Ulysses
Waterloo sometimes. Drop in some evening and have a
glass of old Burgundy. (To the second watch gaily) I’ll in-
troduce you, inspector. She’s game. Do it in the shake of a
lamb’s tail.
(A dark mercurialised face appears, leading a veiled fig-
ure.)
THE DARK MERCURY: The Castle is looking for him.
He was drummed out of the army.
MARTHA: (Thickveiled, a crimson halter round her
neck, a copy of the Irish Times in her hand, in tone of re-
proach, pointing) Henry! Leopold! Lionel, thou lost one!
Clear my name.
FIRST WATCH: (Sternly) Come to the station.
BLOOM: (Scared, hats himself, steps back, then, plucking
at his heart and lifting his right forearm on the square, he
gives the sign and dueguard of fellowcraft) No, no, worship-
ful master, light of love. Mistaken identity. The Lyons mail.
Lesurques and Dubosc. You remember the Childs fratricide
case. We medical men. By striking him dead with a hatch-
et. I am wrongfully accused. Better one guilty escape than
ninetynine wrongfully condemned.
MARTHA: (Sobbing behind her veil) Breach of promise.
My real name is Peggy Griffin. He wrote to me that he was
miserable. I’ll tell my brother, the Bective rugger fullback,
on you, heartless flirt.
BLOOM: (Behind his hand) She’s drunk. The woman is
inebriated. (He murmurs vaguely the pass of Ephraim) Shit-
broleeth.
SECOND WATCH: (Tears in his eyes, to Bloom) You