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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Улисс
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- Стр. 667/821
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(
She
drops
two
pennies
in
the
slot
.
Gold
,
pink
and
violet
lights
start
forth
.
The
drum
turns
purring
in
low
hesitation
waltz
.
Professor
Goodwin
,
in
a
bowknotted
periwig
,
in
court
dress
,
wearing
a
stained
inverness
cape
,
bent
in
two
from
incredible
age
,
totters
across
the
room
,
his
hands
fluttering
.
He
sits
tinily
on
the
pianostool
and
lifts
and
beats
handless
sticks
of
arms
on
the
keyboard
,
nodding
with
damsel
’
s
grace
,
his
bowknot
bobbing
.
)
ZOE
:
(
Twirls
round
herself
,
heeltapping
.
)
Dance
.
Anybody
here
for
there
?
Who
’
ll
dance
?
Clear
the
table
.
(
The
pianola
with
changing
lights
plays
in
waltz
time
the
prelude
of
My
Girl
’
s
a
Yorkshire
Girl
.
Stephen
throws
his
ashplant
on
the
table
and
seizes
Zoe
round
the
waist
.
Florry
and
Bella
push
the
table
towards
the
fireplace
.
Stephen
,
arming
Zoe
with
exaggerated
grace
,
begins
to
waltz
her
round
the
room
.
Bloom
stands
aside
.
Her
sleeve
falling
from
gracing
arms
,
reveals
a
white
fleshflower
of
vaccination
.
Between
the
curtains
Professor
Maginni
inserts
a
leg
on
the
toepoint
of
which
spins
a
silk
hat
.
With
a
deft
kick
he
sends
it
spinning
to
his
crown
and
jauntyhatted
skates
in
.
He
wears
a
slate
frockcoat
with
claret
silk
lapels
,
a
gorget
of
cream
tulle
,
a
green
lowcut
waistcoat
,
stock
collar
with
white
kerchief
,
tight
lavender
trousers
,
patent
pumps
and
canary
gloves
.
In
his
buttonhole
is
an
immense
dahlia
.
He
twirls
in
reversed
directions
a
clouded
cane
,
then
wedges
it
tight
in
his
oxter
.
He
places
a
hand
lightly
on
his
breastbone
,
bows
,
and
fondles
his
flower
and
buttons
.
)
MAGINNI
:
The
poetry
of
motion
,
art
of
calisthenics
.
No
connection
with
Madam
Legget
Byrne
’
s
or
Levenston
’
s
.
Fancy
dress
balls
arranged
.
Deportment
.
The
Katty
Lanner
step
.
So
.
Watch
me
!
My
terpsichorean
abilities
.
(
He
minuets
forward
three
paces
on
tripping
bee
’
s
feet
.
)
Tout
le
monde
en
avant
!
Révérence
!
Tout
le
monde
en
place
!
(
The
prelude
ceases
.
Professor
Goodwin
,
beating
vague
arms
shrivels
,
sinks
,
his
live
cape
falling
about
the
stool
.
The
air
in
firmer
waltz
time
sounds
.
Stephen
and
Zoe
circle
freely
.
The
lights
change
,
glow
,
fade
gold
rosy
violet
.
)
THE
PIANOLA
:
Two
young
fellows
were
talking
about
their
girls
,
girls
,
girls
,
Sweethearts
they
’
d
left
behind
.
.
.
(
From
a
corner
the
morning
hours
run
out
,
goldhaired
,
slimsandalled
,
in
girlish
blue
,
waspwaisted
,
with
innocent
hands
.
Nimbly
they
dance
,
twirling
their
skipping
ropes
.
The
hours
of
noon
follow
in
amber
gold
.
Laughing
,
linked
,
high
haircombs
flashing
,
they
catch
the
sun
in
mocking
mirrors
,
lifting
their
arms
.
)
