Chapter 15 Chapter Eleven 1

Brown next to gold [1], heard the sound of hoofs, the sound of iron and steel. Rough Lulu, Lululu [2]. Chipping, chipping off the hard thumbnail, chipping. Damn!Gold blushed even more. The hoarse tone of the fife. play.The flowers are blue. In her blond hair pulled up in an updo. On a bosom wrapped in a satin dress, a rising and falling rose, a Castilian rose. Trembling, trembling: Edololus[3]. Boring!Who in that corner... caught a glimpse of gold? Matched with the compassionate brown, there was a tinkle [4]. Pure, long vibrato.The cry that lasted for a long time. lure.gentle words.But look!The brilliant stars faded[5].

Ah, roses!Gently played the melody of repayment.castile.Dawn is about to break. 辚辚, a brisk tricycle. Coins clang.The clock ticks. Show your heart.ring.I can't bear to...the sound of the garters snapping back...to leave you.Snapped!That bell [6]!A slap on the thigh.Show your heart.Tender.Sweetheart, goodbye! Rumble.blue. Humming chords.When you are madly in love.war!war!eardrum. sailboat!The veil undulates with the waves. lose.The thrush twittered crisply.Now all is lost [7]. horn.Woo-horn. When he first met.oops! Hypersexuality.My heart was pounding. Tremolo singing.Ah, temptation!Intoxicating.

Marta!Come back! [8] Chirp, chirp, chirp. God, he'd never heard it in his life. Pat, deaf and bald, brought the blotters and picked up the knife. The call of the moonlit night: far away, far away. I feel so sad.PS: So incredibly lonely. Listen! Cold, pointed and curved conch.Have you? Alone, and then each other, the splash of the waves and the silent tsunami. Pearls.Be her.Play Liszt's Rhapsody[9].Shhhhhhh. You can't do that, can you? Never, no, no, believe it.Liddy Lieder. [10] Kaha, Kala. [11] Black. Deep chasing voice.Sing it, Ben, sing it. Serve when you serve.whee.Serve with a smile.

But wait! Deep in the dark under the earth.Buried ore. In the name of the Lord. [12] It's all over, it's all down. [13] Her virgin hair[14].That trembling slender leaf. Ah guys!He gritted his teeth angrily. For example.The other side, this side.A cold stick sticks out. Brunette Lydia next to blonde Mina. By brown, by gold, in shades of sea green.bloom.Old Bloom. Someone tapped, someone tapped, clicked, clicked. Pray for him!Pray, good people! His gouty fingers clattered like castanets[15]. Big Ben.Big books [16].The last rose of Castile in summer has left Bloom, and I am sad alone.[17]

Hush!The breeze made a flute-like sound: Hush! True man.Lid K Cody and Dora.Hey, hey. Just like you guys.Let's raise our glasses together, Chiqinka, Chichongka [18]. Fufurfur!oh! Where does the brown come from near? Where does the gold come from near? Where is the hoof? Boo boo.Crackling.Kradle. Until then, and only then, will the epitaph be written for me. It's over [19]. Start[20]! Brown against gold, Miss Douce's head against Miss Kennedy's.Over the half-curtain of Ormond's pub the Governor's motorcade galloped by, the clatter of hoofs. "Is that her?" asked Miss Kennedy.

Miss Douce said yes, sitting shoulder to shoulder with your lord, graying pearl and a pale greenish blue[21]. "Excellent contrast," said Miss Kennedy. At this moment Miss Douce, very excited, said eagerly: "Look at that guy in the top hat[22]." "Who? Where?" Gold asked more eagerly. "In the second carriage," said Miss Douce with her moist lips, basking in the sunshine, "he's looking around. Wait a minute, let me go and have a look." She, brown, rushed to the last corner with one stride, let out a hasty breath, and pressed her face against the windowpane.

Her moist lips sneered and said: "He's looking back desperately." She laughed loudly: "Oh, my God! Men are horrible fools, don't you think?" With grief. Miss Kennedy paced sadly back from the bright light, twirling a lock of hair that fell behind her ear.She strolled mournfully, brushing and twisting her hair, which was no longer golden in the sun.And so she ambled, twisting her fair hair mournfully behind her curly ears. "They're happy," so she said sadly. a man. With the joy of adultery[23], Bloom walked past the pipes in Mulan's shop; with sweet words in his heart, he walked by the antiques in Vaine's shop; Walked past the worn and blackened gilt vessels in Lore's jeweler's shop.

The shoeshine waiters [24] come to them-they in the bar, the barmaids-here.They ignored him.So he slammed down the tray of rattling china on the counter for them, and said: "Here's your tea." Miss Kennedy coyly moved the tea tray low and out of sight --in an upturned wicker basket, which had been used for bottled mineral water. "What's the matter?" asked the loud shoe-shine boy rudely. "Guess what," replied Miss Douce, leaving her scouting point. "It's your crush, right?" Haughty Brown replied: "If I ever hear you insult anyone so rudely again, I'll tell Madame de Massey about you."

"Rude, rumble," the shoe shiner snorted roughly at her threat, and walked back the way he had come. flowering [25]. Miss Douce frowned at her flowers, and said: "That boy's so wild. I'll rip his ears out a yard if he doesn't behave himself." A ladylike style, in stark contrast. "What about him," replied Miss Kennedy. She poured out a cup of tea and poured it back into the pot.They huddled behind the reef-like counter, sitting in upturned wicker baskets, waiting for the tea to infuse.They each played with their shirts, both of black satin: one was two shillings ninepence a yard, the other two shillings sevenpence a yard.Just waiting for the tea to taste.

Yea, the brown heard it near, and the gold far away.I heard the clanging of steel nearby, and the stamping of hooves in the distance.I heard the clang of hoofs, click, click, click. "Am I badly tanned?" The brown lady unbuttoned her shirt, exposing her neck. "No," said Miss Kennedy, "it will turn brown later. Have you tried cherry bay water with borax?" Miss Douce rose and squinted at her skin in the barroom mirror, where glasses of white and red wine shone, with a conch shell in the middle. "Even my hands were tanned," she said. "Try some glycerin," suggested Miss Kennedy.

Miss Douce said good-bye to her neck and hands, and replied: "Those things just give you pimples," she sat down again. "I've asked the old man in Boyd's to get me some skin rubs." While pouring the freshly brewed tea, Miss Kennedy frowned and begged: "Please, don't mention him to me." "But listen to me," begged Miss Douce. Miss Kennedy poured sweet tea, mixed it with milk, and plugged her ears with her little finger. "No, stop it," she said aloud. "I don't want to hear it," she said aloud. But what about Bloom? Miss Douce imitated the old-fashioned nasal voice and said: "Which part of you?—that's what he said." Miss Kennedy no longer plugs her ears to listen and talk.But she spoke again, and pleaded: "Don't make me think of him again, or I'll die. Vile old fellow! That night at the Antient Music Hall." She took a sip of the hot tea she had brewed, which didn't quite suit her taste.She sipped the sweet tea little by little. "Look at the way he's doing!" said Miss Douce, raising her brown-haired head three quarters of the way up, puffing out her nostrils. "Whoa! Whoa!" A high-pitched, piercing laugh burst from Miss Kennedy's throat.Miss Douce's swollen nostrils snorted, quivered like a hound in search of prey, and uttered a rude chuff. "Oh!" shrieked Miss Kennedy. "How can you forget his rolling eyes?" Miss Douce chimed in with a deep brown laugh, and exclaimed: "And your other eye[26]!" Bloom's dark eyes read Alan Figartner's name.Why do I always think it is Figazel? It probably reminds me of collecting figs [27].The name Prosper Lore[28] must have been a Huguenot.Bloom's dark eyes flicked past some of the Madonnas in Bashi.Come to me, man with a blue robe over a white shirt.People believed that she was a god, or a goddess.Today are those goddesses.I failed to see that place.The guy was talking.is a student.Then got involved with Dedalus' son.He might be Mulligan.These are pretty virgins.That's why all those prodigal children were recruited.Her whiteness. His eyes flicked away.The joy of cheating.Pleasure is sweet. Cheating. A resounding smirk from that golden-brown voice of youth, Douce and Kennedy, your other eye.They—the brunette and the giggling blond—throw back their young heads, laugh and yelp, and your other one winks at each other and makes shrill tones. Ah, gasp, sigh, sigh.Ah, exhaustion, their joy gradually subsided. Miss Kennedy put her lips to the edge of her glass, took a sip, and chuckled.Miss Douce stooped over the tea tray, wrinkled her nose again, and rolled her thick, comical eyes.Kennedy giggled again, and bent down her blond hair, which was pulled up in a high bun; when she bent down, she revealed a tortoiseshell comb stuck in the nape of her neck.Tea splashed from her mouth, and she choked on the tea and the laughter, coughing and yelling. "Oh, what oily eyes! Just imagine being married to such a man!" she cried, "and with a mustache!" Douce's hearty cry was excellent, the sonorous cry of a woman in her prime: joy, joy, indignation. "Married to such a greasy nose!" she cried. High-pitched voices, mixed with deep laughter, golden followed by brown, chasing each other, one after another, changing intonations, brown and golden, golden and brown, sharp and deep, laughing one after another.They laughed for a while again.It's really greasy.Exhausted and out of breath, they leaned their bobbing heads—braided with glossy combs and pulled into an updo—on the edge of the counter.All flushed (oh!), panting, sweating (oh!), and suffocating. Marry Bloom, marry that greasy Bloom. "Oh, saints in heaven!" said Miss Douce.She looked down at the trembling rose on her chest, and sighed, "I've never laughed so hard. I'm soaked." "Oh, Miss Douce!" protested Miss Kennedy. "You bastard!" She blushed more and more (you bastard!), more and more golden. Greasy Bloom is loitering at the Canterville office by some of Seppi's shiny Madonnas.Nanniti's father used to peddle these kinds of wares door to door, bluffing people like me.Religion pays off.Needed to see him about Case's ad.Fill your stomach first.I want.Not yet.She said, at four o'clock. [32] Time flies so fast.The clock ticked on and on.Move forward.where to eat?Clarence [33].Dolphins [34].Move forward.For Raoul.If only I could make five guineas from those commercials.Violet silk petticoat.Not yet.The joy of cheating. The rosiness on the face faded, faded more and more, and the golden color became lighter. Mr. Dedalus strolled into their bar.Chips, chipped off the onychomycosis of his two thumbs.crumbs.He strolls along. "Hey, welcome back, Miss Douce." He held her hand and asked her if she had a good holiday? "I couldn't be happier." He hoped she caught the fine weather at Rostrevo. "It's a beautiful day," she said. "Look at the sun I'm getting! Lying on the sand all day." Brown to white. "Then you are very naughty," Mr. Dedalup said to her, clasping her hand indulgently. "Poor foolish man is charmed by you." Miss Douce in a satin blouse peacefully withdrew her arm. "Oh, you go away! I don't think you're a very stupid man." But he was stupid. "Well, I'm stupid," he mused, "I was so stupid in the cradle that they called me Silly Simon.[37]" "You must have been lovely back then," returned Miss Douce. "What would the doctor want you to drink today?" "Well, here," he pondered for a while, "you can do everything according to you. I would like to trouble you to bring me some water and half a glass of whiskey." Ding zero. "Bring it right away," promised Miss Douce. Immediately after she had exercised her dexterity with grace, she turned to the mirror inscribed with "Cantrell and Cochrane" in gold.She uncorked the transparent container with delicacy and poured out a glass of golden whiskey.Mr. Dedalus produced a tobacco pouch and pipe from under his coattails.She brought him the wine swiftly.Twice he blew out the hoarse sound of the fife from his pipe. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "I've always wanted to see the Morne. The air there must be good for health. But as the saying goes, in time the omens do come true. Yes Ah. Yeah." yes.He stuffed a handful of filaments, her virgin hair, her mermaid hair[39], into the smoke bucket.crumbs.A small tuft.meditation.Silent. No one ever said a word.yes. While polishing the tumbler happily, Miss Douce sang tremblingly: O Edololus, Queen of the East Sea! [40] "Has Mr. Leadwell been here today?" Lenehan walked in.Lenehan looked around.Mr Bloom walked up to the Ethicop Bridge.Yes, Mr. Bloom across Nassex Bridge.[41]I have to write a letter to Martha.Buy some stationery.Dali Smoke Shop.The clerks there are very nice.Bloom, old Bloom.The barley field blooms blue flowers [42]. "He came at lunch," said Miss Douce. Lenehan moved closer. "Is Mr. Boylan looking for me?" he asks.She replied: "Miss Kennedy, was Mr. Boylan here while I was upstairs?" Kennedy fixed his second cup of tea, fixed his eyes on the page, and answered her question in a ladylike tone: "No, he hasn't been here." Kennedy heard it, but continued reading without even looking up from her ladylike eyes.Lenehan's plump figure walked around the sandwich cloche. "Men'er! Who's in that corner?"[43] Kennedy didn't even pay him a glance, but he tried to be courteous to her, reminding her to watch out for periods.Teach her to read only in black: the round 0 and the curved S. [44] Ruffle, the brisk two-wheeled carriage rattles. The blonde waitress looked at the book and didn't even pay attention to it.She dismissed it.She still dismissed him when he recited plain fables[45] from memory in dull accents: "A fox met a stork. The fox said to the stork: 'Will you stick your beak down my throat and pull out a bone for me?,'"[46] In vain he spoke in a monotonous and low voice.Miss Douce turned her face away to the nearby cup of tea. He sighed and said to himself: "Ouch! Ouch!" He greeted Mr. Dedalus, who nodded to him. "A famous son greets his famous father." "Who do you mean?" said Mr. Dedalus. Lenehan spread his arms most kindly.who? "Who could it be?" he asked. "Do you need to ask? Stephen, the young 'Great Poet'." thirsty. Mr. Dedalus, the famous father, laid aside his pipe full of dried tobacco. "I see," he said. "I didn't realize for a moment who he was referring to. I've heard that he has very carefully chosen friends. Have you seen him lately?" He has seen it. "I've had a good drink with him today," said Lenehan, "at the Mooney's in the city and the Mooney's on the seashore. He's got a fortune for his poetic efforts. money." He smiled towards the lips and eyes of the brunette waitress, which were moistened with tea, listening to him: The elite of "Eileen" are all ears. Including Hugh McHugh, Dublin's most talented journalist and editor, and a man of great learning, and the wild and rainy West, named after Omaden Burke. Elegant title for the famous boy bard.[49]” After a while Mr Dedalus raised his glass of whiskey and water. "That must be funny," he said, "I see." He gets it.He is drinking.There is a look in the eyes looking at the Mountain of Sorrow [50] in the distance.He put the glass down. He looked towards the hall door. "It seems that you have moved the piano." "The tuner came today," replied Miss Douce, "for a concert where smoking is allowed. I've never seen such a fine pianist." "Really?" "Does he play well, Miss Kennedy? Real classical, you know. He's blind too, poor thing. I'm sure he's under twenty." "Really?" said Mr. Dedalus. He finished his drink and walked away slowly. "It hurts me to see his face," said Miss Douce, sympathetically. God damn it, you son of a bitch! [51] In keeping with her gesture of mercy,[52] the restaurant bell jingled.Bald Pat came to the door of the bar and restaurant.Here comes Pat the deaf, and Pat the waiter at the Ormond's.Old beer for diners[53].She served the stale beer without haste. Lenehan waited patiently for the impatient Boylan, for the diabolical dandy who came rattling along in his brisk buggy.[54] Lifting the lid, he[55] (who?) stared at the obliquely stretched triple (piano!) steel wires in the wooden frame (coffin?).He (the same one who had so presumptuously squeezed her hand) stomped on the soft pedal, pressed three triad keys, tried the changes in the thickness of the linoleum, heard the hammers wrapped in felt. Hitting sound effects. Clever Bloom (Henry Flor[56]) bought two sheets of cream-coloured vellum (one was a spare), two envelopes at Daly's, thinking of his time at Wyze as he did so. While working in Dem Healy's shop.Are you unhappy in your own home? [57] Flowers are the needles that comfort me and kill love. [58] The language of flowers[59] is meaningful.Is that a daisy?It symbolizes innocence.After watching mass, meet a girl from a good family [60] with good conduct.Thank you very much.Clever Bloom looked at a poster pasted on the door.A mermaid smoking a cigarette twisted its waist in the beautiful waves.Suck Mermaids, smoke that cool smoke.Her hair is floating with the waves, suffering from lovesickness.For a certain man.For Raoul.He looked around and saw in the distance on the Essex Bridge, a fancy hat riding a light carriage in the distance.That is [61].We met again.This is the third time.coincide. The soft rubber wheels of the carriage rattled across the bridge to Ormond Quay.keep up.Take a chance.go quickly.Four o'clock.It's almost there now.go out. "Twopence, sir," ventured the clerk. "Ah... I forgot... sorry..." "Add fourpence." Four o'clock, she.She smiled at Bloom.Blue, smile, quick, go. [62] Goodbye.Don't you think you're the only pebble on the beach?She does this to everyone, as long as it is a man. Drowsily, the blonde waitress silently bent over the page she was reading. There was a sound coming from the hall, dragged on for a long time, and gradually disappeared.This is the tuning fork that the tuner forgot, and he [63] is holding it to knock it.It rang again.He held it in the air, and this time it trilled.Did you hear that?It trembles, purer, purer; softer, softer.The sound of camping dragged on for a long time.The call dragged on longer and longer, and gradually disappeared. Pat paid for the freshly uncorked bottle that the guest had ordered.Before leaving, bald and puzzled, he chatted with Miss Douce over the tumbler, tray, and freshly uncorked bottle. The brilliant stars faded. ...[64] From within comes the tune of "Silent Song": ...the dawn is about to break. A pair of sensitive hands, the twelve semi-tones responded with a cheerful treble register like a bird singing.All the keys gleamed brightly, joined each other, all roaring like a harpsichord[66], calling the voices to sing of dew-drenched mornings, of youth, of farewell to lovers, of life and the morning of love. Dew like pearls... Lenehan's lips whistled seductively low across the counter. "But look this way," he said, "you rose of Castile." The light carriage rattled up to the curb of the sidewalk and stopped. She stood up and closed the book.Troubled and lonely, the Castilian rose rose sleepily. "Is she" "willing to degenerate, or forced?" he asked her. She replied with contempt: "Don't ask, and you won't hear nonsense."[68] Like a lady of every family, put on the posture of a lady of every family. Blazes Boylan's stylish tan shoes rattled on the barroom floor as he strode.Yes, the blonde waitress is near, and the brunette is far away.Lenehan heard it, knew it was him, and shouted to him: "Behold, the heroic conqueror arrives."[69] Bloom, the unconquerable hero, walked cautiously between the carriage and the window.Maybe he saw me too.The seat where he sat was still steaming.He walked like a cautious black tomcat toward Rich Goulding's briefcase held up in greeting. And I from Qingqing... "I hear you're here," Blazes Boylan said. He touched the brim of his straw hat askew, and greeted the fair-haired Miss Kennedy.She smiled at him.But the brunette waitress who was like her sister smiled sweeter than her, as if she was showing off to him her thicker hair and her breasts with roses. [Smart][70] Boylan calls for wine. "What would you like? Bitters? Bitters, please. Give me Plum Red Gin. Has it come out yet?"[71] not yet.Four o'clock, him.They say it's four o'clock. Father Cowley, with his ruddy earlobes and prominent Adam's apple, appeared at the door of the Sheriff's Office.Get out of his way.Coincidentally ran into Goulding.What was he doing in Ormond?And let the carriage wait.Wait a minute. Hello.Where are you going?Want something to eat?I just happen to want it too.Right here.Oh, Ormond?Arguably the most affordable in Dublin.Really?restaurant.Just sat there motionless.Be able to see him, but don't let him see you.I will go with you.bring it on.Richie leads the way.Bloom followed behind his briefcase.This meal is enough to entertain the prince. [72] Miss Douce stretched out her satin-sleeved arms to reach a pot-bellied wine bottle, her breasts so high that they were almost bursting. "Oh! Oh!" Lenehan gasped and said hastily, "Oh!" She took the prey without a hitch, however, and set it low, triumphantly. "Why don't you grow taller?" asked Blazes Boylan. The brunette waitress poured the rich liqueur from the bottle for his lips, watched it splash (who sent that flower on his coat?), Said in a voice like: "Good things always come in small packages." This refers to herself.She poured the syrupy wild plum red gin deftly and slowly. "Good luck," Blazers said. He tosses a big coin.The coin rings. "Wait," said Lenehan, "until I—" "Good luck," he wished, holding up a bubbling ale. "'Scepter'[73] won without breaking a sweat," he said. "I made a little bet," Boylan said over his drink, winking. "You know, I didn't pay for it. A friend of mine had it on a whim." Lenehan continued to drink, and grinned at the sloping beer in his glass and at Miss Douce's slightly parted lips.Her lips almost hummed the song of the sea that had just been tremblingly sung.Edololus.East China Sea. The clock is ringing.Miss Kennedy passed them (flowers, I wonder who sent them?) and took the tray away.The clock ticked away. Miss Douce picked up Boylan's coin and tapped it hard on the cash register.It made a clattering sound.The clock ticked away.The Egyptian beauty [74] picked and picked in the cash box, humming, and handed him the change.Looking West [75], click.for me. "What time is it?" Blazes Boylan asked. "Four o'clock?" bell. Lenehan's small eyes hung greedily at her humming, at her humming breast, and tugged at Blazes Boylan's sleeve. "Let's hear the beat[76]," he said. The Goulding, Colliss, and Ward briefcase led Bloom between the tables blooming in the rye fields.Excited by his purpose, he picked a table at random near the door, served by Bald Pat.It's good to get close.Four o'clock.Could it be that he forgot?Maybe it's just playing tricks.Not coming: whet your appetite.I can't do it.Wait, wait.Pat, the waiter, serves. The shiny blue eyes of the brunette waitress looked at Blazes's blue bow tie and sky blue eyes. "Come on," Lenehan urged, "nobody's here. He's never heard of it." ...and moved closer to Flora's lips. [78] The high, high pitch, the treble, resounded clearly. Douce, the brunette maid, talked to her rising and falling rose, longing for Blazes Boylan's flowers and eyes. "Please, please." In order to get her to say a word of agreement, he begged again and again. I can't do without Qingqing...[79] "Let's talk later," promised Miss Douce shyly. "No, come right away," urged Lenehan, "ring that white bell! [88] Why, come on! Nobody's here." She looked at it.You have to hurry up.It was inaudible from where Miss Ken[81] was.Bending down suddenly.Two excited faces were staring at her bent over. The chords of the wandering tonic, the lost chord[82] tremblingly rediscovered, then lost again, and found again the trembling tonic. "Come on! Do it! Ring! [8c]" She bent down and pinched the hem of the skirt up to her knees.Dally.Bending over, hesitantly, he continued to tease them with his confident eyes. "Ring! [84]" Snapped!She suddenly withdrew her hand from the elastic garter, allowing it to slap slowly back to her clattering female thigh wrapped in warm stockings. "That bell!" Lenehan beeped with delight. "The boss is well trained. Impeccable." She put on a contrived grin (crying! Don't men do that!), but slipped into the light and gave Boylan a soft smile. "You're so vulgar," she said, slipping along. Boylan speaks with his eyes and speaks with his eyes.He put his thick lips to the tipping glass and drank the small glass, sipping the last drops of the syrupy violet-colored liquor.His fascinated eyes followed her as her head passed by the arched gilded mirror in the bar; The glass and a long, pointed conch flashed past, and the brunette waitress and the brighter brunette waitress complemented each other for a moment. Yeah, the brunette waitress walked away from close. ... Goodbye, my lover! (86) "I'm leaving," Boylan said impatiently. He pushed the glass away with vigor and grabbed the change that was given him. "Wait a minute," begged Lenehan, hastily drinking his drink, "I have something to tell you. Tom Rochford..." "He owes hell," Blazes Boylan said, walking away. Lenehan gulped down his drink for the sake of following him. "Have you got horns yet?" he said. "Wait a minute. I'll be right here." He walked behind the hurriedly rattling shoes, but when he reached the door, he quickly stopped beside two figures, one fat and one thin, who were greeting each other. "Hello, Mr. Ben Dollard." "Eh? Okay? Okay?" Ben Dollard, who was listening to Father Cowley's complaints, turned his face away and said in a slurred bass voice, "He won't come to trouble you, Bob. Alf Bergen will talk to the tall man[88]. This time we'll put a barley stalk in the ear of Judas Iscariot[89]." Mr. Dedalus came across the hall sighing, rubbing his eyelid with a finger. "Hey, hey, we've got to fuck him," said Ben Dollard, cheerily, as if yodeling, "Come on, Simon. Sing us a ditty. We hear You play the piano." The dormant Pat, the deaf waiter, was waiting for drinks to be ordered.Rich's called Ball's whiskey[91].What about Bloom?Let me think about it.Save him making two trips.He has corns on his feet.It is four o'clock now.How hot it is in this black suit.Of course, nerves are also at fault.It reflects (does it?) heat energy.Let me think about it.cider.Yes, a bottle of cider. "What's that?" said Mr. Dedalus. "I'm just playing along, man." "Come on, come on," cried Ben Dollard, "get your worries out![92] Come on, Bob." He, Dollard, in those baggy trousers, led them (look at that disheveled fellow, now) into the hall slowly.He - Dolard, sat down on the piano bench.His gouty hands tapped the keys with a thud.With a bang, it stopped abruptly. Bald Pat met the blond waitress in the doorway coming back without a tea tray in her hand.With a perplexed look on his face, he asked her for a Bauer whiskey and a bottle of cider.The brunette waitress watched from the window.Brunette woman leans from a distance. A brisk two-wheeled carriage rattled by. Bloom heard a rattling, soft.He is gone.Bloom sighed softly, like a sob, at the silent blue flowers.Rumble.He is gone.Rumble.listen. "Love and War, Ben," said Mr. Dedalus, "God bless the old days." Miss Douce's bold eyes were ignored, and she could not bear the stimulation of the sun, and she looked away from the half-curtain.away.Melancholy (who knew?), it was too harsh (that blinding sun!) She tugged on the pull cord and drew down the curtains.At this moment, a gloomy look floated under the brown hair. (Why did he walk away in such a hurry, just when I wanted to?), Slowly came to the bar.The bald head was standing there next to the blonde sister, an incongruous contrast, an incongruous contrast, an utterly incongruous contrast.Slowly, coolly, dimly gliding to the deep sea-green of the shadows, a pale green-blue[94]. "It was poor old Goodwin who played the piano that night," Father Cowley reminded them. "He didn't quite get along with that Collard grand piano himself." Is such that. "He's all alone," said Mr. Dedalus. "Not even the devil can stop him. He's a curmudgeon old fellow when he's half drunk." "Ouch, do you remember?" said Big Dollard, turning from his chastened keys, "and I didn't have a fucking wedding gown, either." All three of them laughed.He is not married.All three laughed.no wedding wear dress. “那个晚上，咱们的朋友布卢姆可帮了大忙，”迪达勒斯先生说，“哦，我的烟斗哪儿去啦？” 他踱回到酒吧间去找那支失去的和弦烟斗[ 96] 。秃头帕特正给里奇和帕迪两位顾客送饮料。考利神父又笑了一通。 “看来是我给救了急，本。” “可不就是你嘛，”本·多拉德斩钉截铁他说，“我还记得那条紧巴巴的长裤的事儿。那可是个高明的主意，鲍勃。” 考利神父的脸一直涨红到紫红色的耳垂儿。他打开了局面。紧巴巴的长裤。高明的主意。 “我晓得他手头紧。他老婆每星期六在咖啡宫[97]弹钢琴，挣不了几个钱。是谁来着，透露给我说，她在于着另一种行当。[98] 。为了寻找他们，我们不得不走遍整条霍利斯街，最后还是基奥那家店里的伙计告诉了我们门牌号码。记得吗？” 本记起来了，他那张宽脸盘儿露出诧异的神情。 “哎唷，她尽管住在那样的地方，却还有赴歌剧院的豪华大氅什么的。” 迪达勒斯先生手里拿着烟斗，溜溜达达地走回来了。 “梅里昂方场[99]的款式。好多件舞衣，哎唷，还有不少件宫廷服装。然而他从来不让老婆掏钱。对吧？她有一大堆两端尖的帽子、博莱罗[100]和灯笼裤。对吧？” “唉，唉，”迪达勒斯先生点了点头，“玛莉恩·布卢姆太太有各式各样不再穿的衣服。[1 01] 轻快二轮马车辚辚地沿着码头奔驰而去。布莱泽斯在富于弹性的轮胎上伸开四肢，颠簸着。 “肝和熏猪肉。牛排配腰子饼。”“好的，先生，好的，”帕特说。 Mrs. Marion.遇见了他尖头胶皮管[1 02]。一股糊味儿，一本保罗·德·科克[103]的。他这个名字多好！ “她叫什么来着？倒是个活泼丰满的姑娘。玛莉恩……？” “特威迪。” “对。她还活着吗？” “活得欢势着哪，” “她是谁的闺女来着……” “联队的闺女。” “对，一点儿不假。我记起那个老鼓手长来了。” 迪达勒斯先生划了根火柴，嚓的一声点燃了，噗地喷出一口馨香的烟，又喷出一口。 “是爱尔兰人吗？我真不知道哩。她是吗，西蒙？” 然后猛吸进一口，强烈，馨香，发出一阵噼啪声。 “脸蛋儿上的肌肉……怎样？……有点儿褪了色……噢，她是……我的爱尔兰妞儿摩莉，噢。[ 104] ” 他吐出一股刺鼻的羽毛状的烟。 “从直布罗陀的岩石那儿……大老远地来的。” 她们在海洋的阴影深处苦苦地恋慕着[ 105] ，金发女侍守在啤酒泵柄旁，褐发女侍挨着野樱桃酒；两个人都陷入沉思。住在德拉姆康德拉[1 06]的利斯英尔高台街四号的米娜·肯尼迪以及艾多洛勒斯，一位女王，多洛勒斯[1 07]，都一声不响。 帕特上了菜，把罩子一一掀开。利奥波德切着肝。正如前文[118]所说的，他吃起下水、有嚼头的胗和炸雌鳕卵来真是津津有味。考立斯- 沃德律师事务所的里奇·古尔丁则吃着牛排配腰子饼。他先吃牛排，然后吃腰子。他一口口地吃饼。布卢姆吃着，他们吃着。 布卢姆和古尔丁默默地相互配合，吃了起来。那是一顿足以招待王爷的正餐。 单身汉[1 09]布莱泽斯·博伊兰顶着太阳在溽暑中乘着双轮轻便马车，母马那光滑的臀部被鞭子轻打着，倚靠那富于弹性的轮胎，沿着巴切勒[110] 便道辚辚前进。博伊兰摊开四肢焐暖着座席，心里急不可耐，热切而大胆。犄角。你长那个了吗？犄角。你长了吗？ 呜--呜--号角[111]。 多拉德的嗓门像大管[112] 似的冲来，压过他们那炮轰般的和音： 当狂恋使我神魂颠倒之际…… 本灵魂本杰明[ 113] 那雷鸣般的声音响震撼屋宇，震得天窗玻璃直颤抖着，爱情的颤抖。 “战争！战争！”考利神父大声在嚷，“你是勇士。” “正是这样，”勇士本笑着说，“我正想着你的房东[114] 呢。恋爱也罢，金钱也罢。” 他住了口。为了自己犯的大错，他摇晃着大脸盘上的大胡子。 “就凭你这样的声量，”迪达勒斯先生在香烟缭绕中说，“你准会弄破她的膜[115] ，伙计。” 多拉德摇晃着胡子，在键盘上大笑了一通。他是做得到的。 “且别提另一个膜了，”考利神父补充说，“歇口气吧。含情但勿过甚[116]。我来弹吧。” 肯尼迪小姐给两位先生端来两大杯清凉烈性黑啤酒。她寒暄了一声。第一位先生说，这可真是好天气。他们喝着清凉烈性黑啤酒。她可晓得总督大人是到哪儿去吗？可曾听见蹄铁响，马蹄声。不，她说不准。不过，这会儿报的。噢，不用麻烦她啦。No trouble.她摇晃着那份摊开的《独立报》，她寻找着总督大人。她那高高挽起的发髻慢慢移动着，寻找着总督大人。第一位先生说，太麻烦了。哪里，一点也不费事。喏，他就像那样盯着看。总督大人。金发挨着褐发，听见了蹄铁声，钢铁响。 ……我神魂颠倒之际， 顾不得为明天而焦虑。[117] 布卢姆在肝汁里搅拌着土豆泥。恋爱与战争--有人就是这样的。本·多拉德大名鼎鼎。有一天晚上，他跑来向我们借一套为了赴那次音乐会穿的夜礼服。裤子像鼓面那样紧紧地绷在他身上。一头音乐猪。他走出去之后，摩莉大笑了一阵。她仰面往床上一倒，又是尖叫，又是踢踢踹踹。这不是把他的物儿统统都展览出来了吗？啊，天上的圣人们，我真是一身大汗！啊，坐在前排的女客可怎么好！啊，我从来没笑得这么厉害过！喏，就是那样，他才能发得出那低沉的桶音[118] 。比方说，那些阉人。谁在弹琴呢？韵味儿不错。准是考利，有音乐素质。无论奏什么曲调，都能理解。可是他有口臭的毛病，可怜的人。琴声停止了。 富于魅力的杜丝小姐，莉迪亚·杜丝朝着正走进来的一位先生--和蔼可亲的初级律师乔治·利德维尔鞠着躬。Hello.她伸出一只湿润的、上流小姐的手，他紧紧地握住。Hello.是的，她已经回来啦。又忙忙碌碌地干起来了。 “您的朋友们在里面呢，利德维尔先生。” 乔治·利德维尔，和蔼可亲，像是受诱惑般地握住一只肉感的手。 [119] 正如前文说过的，布卢姆吃了肝。这里至少挺清洁。在伯顿饭馆，那家伙用齿龈对付软骨。这里什么人也没有。除了古尔丁和我。干净的桌布，花儿，状似主教冠的餐巾。帕特张罗来张罗去。秃头帕特。nothing to do.在都柏林市，这里最物美价廉了。 又弹起钢琴来了。那是考利。当他面对钢琴而坐时，好像和它融为一体，相互理解。那些徒有其表、令人厌烦的乐师们在弦上乱拨一气。盯着琴弓的一头，就像拉锯般地拉起大提琴，使你想起牙疼时的情景。她高声打起长的呼噜。那晚上我们坐在包厢里，幕间休息的时候，长号在下面像海豚般地喘着气：另一个吹铜管乐器的汉子拧了一下螺丝，把积存的唾沫倒出来。指挥的两条腿在松松垮垮的长裤里跳着吉格舞[120]。把他们遮藏起来还是对的。 双轮轻快马车辚辚地疾驰而去。 只有竖琴。可爱灿烂的金光。少女拨弄着它。可爱的臀部，倒很适宜醮上点儿肉汁。黄金的船。爱琳。那竖琴也被摸过一两次。冰凉的手。 [121]霍斯山，杜鹃花丛。我们是她们的竖琴。I.he.老的。年轻的。 “啊，我不行，老兄，”迪达勒斯先生畏畏缩缩、无精打采地说 得用强硬的口气。 “弹下去，妈的！”本·多拉德大声嚷道，“一小段一小段地来 “来一段《爱情如今》[122] ，西蒙，”考利神父说。 他朝舞台下首迈了几大步，神情严肃，无限悲伤地摊开了长长的胳膊。他的喉结嘶哑地发出轻微的嘎声。他对着那里的一幅罩满尘土的海景画《最后的诀别》[123] 柔声唱了起来。伸入大海中的岬角，一艘船，随着起伏的孤帆。再见吧。可爱的少女。她的面纱随风围着她刮，它在风中朝着岬角飘动。 考利唱道： 爱情如今造访， 攫住我的目光…… 少女不去听考利的歌声。她对那离去的心上人，对风，对恋情，对疾驶的帆，对归去者，摇着她的轻纱。 “弹下去吧，西蒙。” “哎，我的全盛时期确实已经过去了，[124] 本……喏……” 迪达勒斯先生将自己的烟斗撂在音叉旁边，坐下来，碰了碰那顺从的键盘。 “不，西蒙，”考利神父掉过身来说，“照原来的谱子来弹。一个降号。”[125] 键盘乖乖地变得高昂了，诉说着，踌躇着，表白着，迷惘着。 考利神父朝舞台上首大踏步走去。 “喂，西蒙，我为你伴奏，”他说，“起来吧。” 那辆轻快双轮马车从格雷厄姆·莱蒙店里的菠萝味硬糖果和埃尔韦里的象记商店旁边，辚辚地驰过去。 布卢姆和古尔丁严然像王侯一般坐下来，牛排、腰子、肝、土豆泥，吃那顿适宜给王侯吃的饭。他们像进餐中的王侯似的举杯而饮鲍尔威士忌和苹果酒。 里奇说，这是迄今为男高音写的最优美的曲调：《梦游女》[126] 。一天晚上，他曾听见乔·马斯[127] 演唱过。啊，麦古金[128] 真了不起！right.有他独特的方式。少年唱诗班的味道。那少年名叫马斯。弥撒[129] 少年。可以说他是抒情性的男高音。听了之后永远不会忘记，永远不会。 布卢姆消灭了肝之后，就边吃剩下的牛排，边满怀同情地看着对面那张绷起来的脸上泛出的紧张神色。他背疼。布赖特氏病患者那种明亮的目光[130] 。节目单上下一个项目。付钱给吹笛手。[131]药片，像是用面包渣做成的玩艺儿，一吉尼一匣。拖欠一阵再说。也来唱唱：在死者当中[132] 。腰子饼。好花儿给。[133] 赚不了多少钱。东西倒是值。鲍尔威士忌，喝起酒来挺挑剔：什么玻璃杯有碴儿啦，要换一杯瓦尔特里[134] 水啦。为了省几个钱，就从柜台上捞几盒火柴。然后又去挥霍一金镑。等到该付钱的时候，却又一文也拿不出来了。喝醉了就连马车钱也赖着不给。好古怪的家伙。 里奇永远也不会忘记那个夜晚。只要他活着一天，就绝忘不掉的。在古老的皇家剧场的顶层楼座，还带着小皮克[ 135] 。刚一奏起第一个音符。 里奇把到嘴边儿的话咽回去了。 眼下撒开弥天大谎来了。不论说什么都狂热地夸张。还相信自己的瞎话。真的深信不疑。天字第一号撒谎家。可他缺的是一份好记性。[136] “那是什么曲子呀？”利奥波德·布卢姆问。 “'现在一切都失去啦'[137] 。” 里奇噘起嘴来。可爱的狺女[138] 喃喃地唱着音调低沉的序曲：一切。一只画眉。一只画眉鸟。他的呼吸像鸟鸣那样甜美，他引为自豪的一口好牙之间，以长笛般的声音唱出哀愁苦恼。失去了。嗓音圆润。这当儿两个音调融合在一起了。我在山楂谷[139] 听见了画眉的啭鸣。它接过我的基调，将其揉和，变了调。过于新颖的呼声，消失在万有之中。回声。多么婉转悠扬的回音啊！[144] 那是怎样形成的呢？现在一切都失去啦。[141]他哀渤地吹着口哨。垮台，降伏，消失。 布卢姆一面把花边桌垫的流苏塞到花瓶底下，一面竖起他那豹子[142]耳朵。秩序。是啊，我记得。可人的曲子。在梦游中她来到他跟前。一位沐浴在月光中的天真烂漫的少女。勇敢。不了解他们所面临的险境。然而还是把她留住吧。呼唤她的名字。摸摸水。 [143] 轻快双轮马车辚辚。太迟啦[144] 她巴望着去。Therefore.woman.拦截海水倒还容易一些。是的，一切都失去啦。 “一支优美的曲子，”布卢姆，忘乎所以的利奥波德说，“我对它很熟悉。” 里奇·古尔丁平生从来不曾…… 他对这一点也一清二楚。或许已有所觉察。依然念念不忘地提他的女儿。[145] 迪达勒斯曾说：“只有聪明的女儿才会知道自己的父亲。”[146]我呢？ 布卢姆隔着他那只肝儿已经吃光了的盘子，斜眼望去。失去了一切的人的面庞。这位里奇一度也曾沉缅于狂欢作乐。他玩的那些把戏而今都已过时了。什么扇耳朵啦，透过餐巾套环[147] 往外窥伺啦。现在他派儿子送出去几封告帮信。斗鸡眼的沃尔特[148]说，爹，我照办了，爹。我不想麻烦您，但我原是指望能收到一笔钱。替自己辩解。 又弹起钢琴来了。音色比我上次听到的要好些。大概调了音。 又停止了。 多拉德和考利还在催促那个迟迟疑疑的歌手唱起来。 "Come on, Simon." “来，西蒙。” “女士们，先生们，承蒙各位不弃，我深深表示感谢。” “来，西蒙。” “我不称钱，然而您们要是肯听的话，我就为大家唱一支沉痛的心灵之曲[149] 。” 在帘子的遮荫下，钟形三明治容器旁边，莉迪亚胸前插了朵玫瑰。一位褐发淑女的娴雅派头，忽隐忽现；而金发挽成高髻、沉浸在冰凉而银光闪闪的一片淡绿蓝色[150]中的米娜，在两位举着大酒杯的顾客面前也是这样。 前奏旋律结束了。拖得长长的、仿佛有所期待的和弦消失了。 当我初见那绰约身姿时[151] 里奇回过头去。 “西·迪达勒斯的声音，”他说。 他们脑子里充满了兴奋欣喜，涨红了双颊，边听边感受到一股恋慕之情流过肌肤、四肢、心脏、灵魂和脊背。布卢姆朝耳背头秃的帕特打了个手势，叫他把酒吧间的门半开着。酒吧间的门。That's it.that's fine.茶房帕特在那儿听候吩咐，因为站在门口听不清楚。 我的悲哀似乎将消失。 一个低沉的声音穿过静寂的空气传了过来。那不是雨，也不是沙沙作响的树叶；既不像是弦音或芦苇声，又不像那叫什么来着——杜西玛琴[152] ；用歌词触碰他们静静的耳朵，在他们各自宁静的心中，勾起往日生活的记忆，好哇，值得一听。他们刚刚一听，两个人的悲哀就好像分别消失了。当他们——里奇和波尔迪——初见美的女神而感到茫然时，他们从丝毫也不曾想到的人儿嘴里，第一次听到温柔眷恋、情意脉脉、无限缠绵的话语。 爱情在歌唱。古老甜蜜的情歌。[153]布卢姆缓缓地解开他那包包上的松紧带。敲响恋人那古老甜蜜的金发。[154]布卢姆将松紧带绕在四根叉开来的指头上，伸开来，松了松，又将它两道、四道、八道地绕在不安的指头上，勒得紧紧的。 胸中充满希望欣喜…… 男高音歌手能够把好几十个女人弄到手。这样他们的嗓音就洪亮了。妇女们朝他脚下投鲜花。咱们什么时候能见面呢？ [ 155] 简直让我晕头[156] 。辚辚地响着，欢天喜地。他不能专为戴大礼帽的演唱。简直让你晕头转向[157]为他而擦香水。你太太使用哪一种香水。I would like to know.辚辚。停下来了。knock on the door. [158] 在开门之前，她总是先对着镜子照上最后一眼。门厅。啊，来了！Are you OK?I'm very good.那儿吗？What?要么就是？她的手提包里装着口香片，接吻时吃的糖果。要吗？双手去抚摩她那丰满的……[159] 哎呀，歌声高昂了，叹息着，变了调。洪亮，饱满，辉煌，自豪。 幻梦破灭一场空虚…… 他至今仍有着一副极美妙的歌喉。科克人的歌声就是柔和一些，就连土腔都是这样。fool!本来能够挣到海钱的。净唱错歌词。把他老婆活活地累死了。现下他倒唱起来了。然而很难说。只有他们两个[160]在一起。只要他不垮下来。沿着林荫路还能跑出个样儿来。他的四肢也都在歌唱。喝酒吧。神经绷得太紧了。为了唱歌，饮食得有节制。詹妮·林德[161] 式的汤：原汁，洋苏叶，生鸡蛋，半品脱奶油。为了浓郁的、梦幻般的歌喉。 柔情蜜意涌了上来。缓缓地，膨胀着，悸动着。就是那话儿。哈，给啦！接呀！怦怦跳动着，傲然挺立着。 歌词？音乐？不，是那背后的东西。 布卢姆缠上又松开来，结了个活扣儿，又重新解开来。 布卢姆。温吞吞、乐融融、舔光这股秘密热流，化为音乐，化为情欲，任情淌流，为了舔那淌流的东西而侵入。推倒她抚摩她拍拍她压住她。公羊。毛孔膨胀扩大。公羊。那种欢乐，那种感触，那种亲呢，那种。公羊。冲过闸门滚滚而下的激流。洪水，激流，涨潮，欢乐的激流，公羊震动。what!爱情的语言。 希望的一线曙光， 喜气洋溢。女神莉迪亚一副淑女派头，尖声尖气地对利德维尔说着话。听不见，是由于希望的曙光被尖声压住了。 是《玛尔塔》。巧合。 [162]我正要写信呢。莱昂内尔的歌。你这名字挺可爱。不能写。请笑纳我这份小小礼物。拨弄她的心弦，也拨弄钱包的丝带。她是个。我曾称你作淘气鬼。 [163] 然而这个名字：玛莎。多么奇怪呀！Nowadays. 莱昂内尔的声音又回来了，比先前减弱了，但并不疲倦。它再一次对里奇、波尔迪、莉迪亚、利德维尔歌唱，也对那边张着嘴竖起耳朵、边等着伺候顾客的帕特歌唱。他是怎样初次瞥见那绰约的身姿，悲哀是怎样似乎消失的，她的眼神、丰韵和谈吐如何使古尔德[164]和利德维尔着迷，如何赢得了帕特。布卢姆的心。 不过，我要是能瞧见他[165]的脸就好了。意思就更清楚了。这下子我明白，当我在德雷格理发店对着镜中理发师的脸说话时，他何以总要望着我的脸了。尽管离得有点儿远，在这儿还是比在酒吧间听得真切一些。 遇见你那温雅明眸…… 我在特列纽亚的马特·狄龙[166]家初次见到她的那个夜晚。她身穿黑网眼的嫩黄色衣衫。音乐椅。最后只剩下我们两个。destiny.我追在她后面。destiny.慢慢腾腾地兜圈子。快点转吧。我们两个人。大家都看着哪。stop!She sat down.被淘汰的面面相觑。个个咧着嘴笑着。嫩黄色的膝盖。 我的眼睛被迷惑…… 歌唱着。她唱的是《等候》[167]。我替她翻乐谱。音域广阔，香气袭人。你的丁香树，什么牌的香水。我看见了胸脯，两边那么丰腴，喉咙颤抖着。当我初见，她向我道谢。她为什么……我呢？缘分。西班牙风韵的眼睛。此时此刻，在古老的马德里……多洛勒斯…”——她，多洛勒斯，在中院儿梨树下的阴影下。望着我。引诱着。啊，诱惑着。 玛尔塔！啊，玛尔塔！ 莱昂内尔摆脱了心头的一切郁闷，以愈益深邃而愈益高昂的和谐音调，饱含着强有力的激情，唱起悲歌，呼唤着恋人归来。莱昂内尔那；孤独的呼唤，她是应该能理解的；玛尔塔是应该察觉到的。因为他所等待的只有她一人。在那儿？这儿， 那儿； 试试那儿，这儿；哪儿都试试看。在哪儿。在某处。 回来吧，迷失的你！ 回来吧，我亲爱的你！ 孤零零的，唯一的爱。唯一的希望。我唯一的慰藉。玛尔塔，胸腔共鸣[170] ，回来吧！ come back! 声音飞翔着，一只鸟儿，不停地飞翔，迅疾、清越的叫声。蹁跹吧，银色的球体；它安详地跳跃，迅疾地，持续地来到了。气不要拖得太长，他的底气足，能长寿。高高地翱翔，在高处闪耀，燃烧，头戴王冠，高高地在象征性的光辉中，高高地在上苍的怀抱里，高高地在浩瀚、至高无上的光芒普照中，全都飞翔着，全都环绕着万有而旋转，绵绵无绝期，无绝期，无绝期…… 回到我这里！[171] 西奥波德！ 耗尽了。