Ulysses
BLOOM: (To Stephen) Come home. You’ll get into trou-
ble.
STEPHEN: (Swaying) I don’t avoid it. He provokes my
intelligence.
BIDDY THE CLAP: One immediately observes that he is
of patrician lineage.
THE VIRAGO: Green above the red, says he. Wolfe
Tone.
THE BAWD: The red’s as good as the green. And better.
Up the soldiers! Up King Edward!
A ROUGH: (Laughs) Ay! Hands up to De Wet.
THE CITIZEN: (With a huge emerald muffler and shil-
lelagh, calls)May the God above
Send down a dove
With teeth as sharp as razors
To slit the throats
Of the English dogs
That hanged our Irish leaders.THE CROPPY BOY: (The ropenoose round his neck,
gripes in his issuing bowels with both hands)I bear no hate to a living thing,
But I love my country beyond the king.RUMBOLD, DEMON BARBER: (Accompanied by two
blackmasked assistants, advances with gladstone bag which