Ulysses
ing slowly over her trinketed stomacher, a slow friendly
mockery in her eyes) O Poldy, Poldy, you are a poor old stick
in the mud! Go and see life. See the wide world.
BLOOM: I was just going back for that lotion whitewax,
orangeflower water. Shop closes early on Thursday. But the
first thing in the morning. (He pats divers pockets) This
moving kidney. Ah!
(He points to the south, then to the east. A cake of new
clean lemon soap arises, diffusing light and perfume.)
THE SOAP:We’re a capital couple are Bloom and I.
He brightens the earth. I polish the sky.(The freckled face of Sweny, the druggist, appears in the
disc of the soapsun.)
SWENY: Three and a penny, please.
BLOOM: Yes. For my wife. Mrs Marion. Special recipe.
MARION: (Softly) Poldy!
BLOOM: Yes, ma’am?
MARION: ti trema un poco il cuore?
(In disdain she saunters away, plump as a pampered pout-
er pigeon, humming the duet from Don Giovanni.)
BLOOM: Are you sure about that voglio? I mean the pro-
nunciati ...
(He follows, followed by the sniffing terrier. The elderly
bawd seizes his sleeve, the bristles of her chinmole glitter-
ing.)
THE BAWD: Ten shillings a maidenhead. Fresh thing