Ulysses
CISSY CAFFREY: Yes, to go with him. And me with a
soldier friend.
PRIVATE COMPTON: He doesn’t half want a thick ear,
the blighter. Biff him one, Harry.
PRIVATE CARR: (To Cissy) Was he insulting you while
me and him was having a piss?
LORD TENNYSON: (Gentleman poet in Union Jack
blazer and cricket flannels, bareheaded, flowingbearded)
Theirs not to reason why.
PRIVATE COMPTON: Biff him, Harry.
STEPHEN: (To Private Compton) I don’t know your
name but you are quite right. Doctor Swift says one man in
armour will beat ten men in their shirts. Shirt is synechdo-
che. Part for the whole.
CISSY CAFFREY: (To The Crowd) No, I was with the pri-
vates.
STEPHEN: (Amiably) Why not? The bold soldier boy. In
my opinion every lady for example ...
PRIVATE CARR: (His cap awry, advances to Stephen)
Say, how would it be, governor, if I was to bash in your jaw?
STEPHEN: (Looks up to the sky) How? Very unpleasant.
Noble art of selfpretence. Personally, I detest action. (He
waves his hand) Hand hurts me slightly. Enfin ce sont vos
oignons. (To Cissy Caffrey) Some trouble is on here. What
is it precisely?
DOLLY GRAY: (From her balcony waves her handker-
chief, giving the sign of the heroine of Jericho) Rahab. Cook’s
son, goodbye. Safe home to Dolly. Dream of the girl you left
behind and she will dream of you.