尤利西斯-第121章

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ghly　providential　was　the　appearance　on　the　scene　of　Corny　Kelleher　when　Stephen　was　blissfully　unconscious　that；　but　for　that　man　in　the　gap　turning　up　at　the　eleventh　hour；　the　finis　might　have　been　that　he　might　have　been　a　candidate　for　the　accident　ward；　or；　failing　that；　the　Bridewell　and　an　appearance　in　the　court　next　day　before　Mr　Tobias；　or；　he　being　the　solicitor；　rather　old　Wall；　he　meant　to　say；　or　Malony　which　simply　spelt　ruin　for　a　chap　when　it　got　bruited　about。　The　reason　he　mentioned　the　fact　was　that　a　lot　of　those　policemen；　whom　he　cordially　disliked；　were　admittedly　unscrupulous　in　the　service　of　the　Crown　and；　as　Mr　Bloom　put　it；　recalling　a　case　or　two　in　the　A　Division　in　Clanbrassil　street；　prepared　to　swear　a　hole　through　a　ten　gallon　pot。　Never　on　the　spot　when　wanted　but　in　quiet　parts　of　the　City；　Pembroke　Road；　for　example；　the　guardians　of　the　law　were　well　in　evidence；　the　obvious　reason　being　they　were　paid　to　protect　the　upper　classes。　Another　thing　he　mented　on　was　equipping　soldiers　with　firearms　or　sidearms　of　any　description；　liable　to　go　off　at　any　time；　which　was　tantamount　to　inciting　them　against　civilians　should　by　any　chance　they　fall　nut　over　anything。　You　frittered　away　your　time；　he　very　sensibly　maintained；　and　health　and　also　character　besides　which　the　squandermania　of　the　thing；　fast　women　of　the　demimonde　ran　away　with　a　lot　of　#。　s。　d。　into　the　bargain　and　the　greatest　danger　of　all　was　who　you　got　drunk　with　though；　touching　the　much　vexed　question　of　stimulants；　he　relished　a　glass　of　choice　old　wine　in　season　as　both　nourishing　and　blood…making　and　possessing　aperient　virtues　（notably　a　good　burgundy　which　he　was　a　staunch　believer　in）　still　never　beyond　a　certain　point　where　he　invariably　drew　the　line　as　it　simply　led　to　trouble　all　round　to　say　nothing　of　your　being　at　the　tender　mercy　of　others　practically。　Most　of　all　he　mented　adversely　on　the　desertion　of　Stephen　by　all　his　pubhunting　confrères　but　one；　a　most　glaring　piece　of　ratting　on　the　part　of　his　brother　medicos　under　all　the　circs。　
　And　that　one　was　Judas；　said　Stephen；　who　up　to　then　had　said　nothing　whatsoever　of　any　kind。　
Discussing　these　and　kindred　topics　they　made　a　beeline　across　the　back　of　the　Customhouse　and　passed　under　the　Loop　Line　bridge　when　a　brazier　of　coke　burning　in　front　of　a　sentrybox；　or　something　like　one；　attracted　their　rather　lagging　footsteps。　Stephen　of　his　own　accord　stopped　for　no　special　reason　to　look　at　the　heap　of　barren　cobblestones　and　by　the　light　emanating　from　the　brazier　he　could　just　make　out　the　darker　figure　of　the　corporation　watchman　inside　the　gloom　of　the　sentrybox。　He　began　to　remember　that　this　had　happened；　or　had　been　mentioned　as　having　happened；　before　but　it　cost　him　no　small　effort　before　he　remembered　that　he　recognised　in　the　sentry　a　quondam　friend　of　his　father's　Gumley。　To　avoid　a　meeting　be　drew　nearer　to　the　pillars　of　the　railway　bridge。　
　Someone　saluted　you；　Mr　Bloom　said。　
A　figure　of　middle　height　on　the　prowl；　evidently；　under　the　arches　saluted　again；　calling：　Night！　Stephen；　of　course；　started　rather　dizzily　and　stopped　to　return　the　pliment。　Mr　Bloom；　actuated　by　motives　of　inherent　delicacy；　inasmuch　as　he　always　believed　in　minding　his　own　business；　moved　off　but　nevertheless　remained　on　the　qui　vive　with　just　a　shade　of　anxiety　though　not　funkyish　in　the　least。　Although　unusual　in　the　Dublin　area；　he　knew　that　it　was　not　by　any　means　unknown　for　desperadoes　who　had　next　to　nothing　to　live　on　to　be　about　waylaying　and　generally　terrorising　peaceable　pedestrians　by　placing　a　pistol　at　their　head　in　some　secluded　spot　outside　the　city　proper；　famished　loiterers　of　the　Thames　embankment　category　they　might　be　hanging　about　there　or　simply　marauders　ready　to　decamp　with　whatever　boodle　they　could　in　one　fell　swoop　at　a　moments　notice；　your　money　or　your　life；　leaving　you　there　to　point　a　moral；　gagged　and　garotted。　
Stephen；　that　is　when　the　accosting　figure　came　to　close　quarters；　though　he　was　not　in　any　over　sober　state　himself；　recognised　Corley's　breath　redolent　of　rotten　cornjuice。　Lord　John　Corley；　some　called　him；　and　his　genealogy　came　about　in　this　wise。　He　was　the　eldest　son　of　Inspector　Corley　of　the　G　Division；　lately　deceased；　who　had　married　a　certain　Katherine　Brophy；　the　daughter　of　a　Louth　farmer。　His　grandfather；　Patrick　Michael　Corley；　of　New　Ross；　had　married　the　widow　of　a　publican　there　whose　maiden　name　had　been　Katherine　（also）　Talbot。　Rumour　had　it；　though　not　proved；　that　she　descended　from　the　house　of　the　Lords　Talbot　de　Malahide　in　whose　mansion；　really　an　unquestionably　fine　residence　of　its　kind　and　well　worth　seeing；　his　mother　or　aunt　or　some　relative　had　enjoyed　the　distinction　of　being　in　service　in　the　washkitchen。　This；　therefore；　was　the　reason　why　the　still　paratively　young　though　dissolute　man　who　now　addressed　Stephen　was　spoken　of　by　some　with　facetious　proclivities　as　Lord　John　Corley。　
Taking　Stephen　on　one　side　he　had　the　customary　doleful　ditty　to　tell。　Not　as　much　as　a　farthing　to　purchase　a　night's　lodgings。　His　friends　had　all　deserted　him。　Furthermore；　he　had　a　row　with　Lenehan　and　called　him　to　Stephen　a　mean　bloody　swab　with　a　sprinkling　of　other　uncalled…for　expressions。　He　was　out　of　a　job　and　implored　of　Stephen　to　tell　him　where　on　God's　earth　he　could　get　something；　anything　at　all　to　do。　No；　it　was　the　daughter　of　the　mother　in　the　washkitchen　that　was　fostersister　to　the　heir　of　the　house　or　else　they　were　connected　through　the　mother　in　some　way；　both　occurrences　happening　at　the　same　time　if　the　whole　thing　wasn't　a　plete　fabrication　from　start　to　finish。　Anyhow；　he　was　ill　in。　
　I　wouldn't　ask　you；　only；　pursued　he；　on　my　solemn　oath　and　God　knows　I'm　on　the　rocks。　
　There'll　be　a　job　tomorrow　or　the　next　day；　Stephen　told　him；　in　a　boys'　school　at　Dalkey　for　a　gentleman　usher。　Mr　Garret　Deasy。　Try　it。　You　may　mention　my　name。　
　Ah；　God；　Corley　replied；　sure　I　couldn't　teach　in　a　school；　man。　I　was　never　one　of　your　bright　ones；　he　added　with　a　half　laugh。　Got　stuck　twice　in　the　junior　at　the　Christian　Brothers。　
　I　have　no　place　to　sleep　myself；　Stephen　informed　him。　
Corley；　at　the　first　go…off；　was　inclined　to　suspect　it　was　something　to　do　with　Stephen　being　fired　out　of　his　digs　for　bringing　in　a　bloody　tart　off　the　street。　There　was　a　dosshouse　in　Marlborough　street；　Mrs　Maloney's；　but　it　was　only　a　tanner　touch　and　full　of　undesirables　but　M'Conachie　told　him　you　got　a　decent　enough　do　in　the　Brazen　Head　over　in　Winetavern　street　（which　was　distantly　suggestive　to　the　person　addressed　of　friar　Bacon）　for　a　bob。　He　was　starving　too　though　he　hadn't　said　a　word　about　it。　
Though　this　sort　of　thing　went　on　every　other　night　or　very　near　it　still　Stephen's　feelings　got　the　better　of　him　in　a　sense　though　he　knew　that　Corley's　brandnew　rigmarole；　on　a　par　with　the　others；　was　hardly　deserving　of　much　credence。　However；　haud　ignarus　malorum　miseris　succurrere　disco；　etcetera；　as　the　Latin　poet　remarks；　especially　as　luck　would　have　it　he　got　paid　his　screw　after　every　middle　of　the　month　on　the　sixteenth　which　was　the　date　of　the　month　as　a　matter　of　fact　though　a　good　bit　of　the　wherewithal　was　demolished。　But　the　cream　of　the　joke　was　nothing　would　get　it　Out　of　Corley's　head　that　he　was　living　in　affluence　and　hadn't　a　thing　to　do　but　hand　out　the　needful　…　whereas。　He　put　his　hand　in　a　pocket　anyhow；　not　with　the　idea　of　finding　any　food　there；　but　thinking　he　might　lend　him　anything　up　to　a　bob　or　so　in　lieu　so　that　he　might　endeavour　at　all　events　and　get　sufficient　to　eat。　But　the　result　was　in　the　negative　for；　to　his　chagrin；　he　found　his　cash　missing。　A　few　broken　biscuits　were　all　the　result　of　his　investigation。　He　tried　his　hardest　to　recollect　for　the　moment　whether　he　had　lost；　as　well　he　might　have；　or　left；　because　in　that　contingency　it　was　not　a　pleasant　lookout；　very　much　the　reverse；　in　fact。　He　was　altogether　too　fagged　out　to　institute　a　thorough　search　though　he　tried　to　recollect　about　biscuits　he　dimly　remembered。　Who　now　exactly　gave　them；　or　where　was；　or　did　he　buy？　However；　in　another　pocket　he　came　across　what　he　surmised　in　the　dark　were　pennies；　erroneously；　however；　as　it　turned　out。　
　Those　are　halfcrowns；　man；　Corley　corrected　him。　
And　so　in　point　of　fact　they　turned　out　to　be。　Stephen　lent　him　one　of　them。　
　Thanks；　Corley　answered。　You're　a　gentleman。　I'll　pay　you　back　some　time。　Who's　that　with　you？　I　saw　him　a　few　times　in　the　Bleeding　Horse　in　Camden　street　with　Boylan　the　billsticker。　You　might　put　in　a　good　word　for　us　to　get　me　taken　on　there。　I'd　carry　a　sandwichboard　only　the　girl　in　the　office　told　me　they're　full　up　for　the　next　three　weeks；　man。　God；　you've　to　book　ahead；　man；　you'd　think　it　was　for　the　Carl　Rosa。　I　don't　give　a　shite　anyway　so　long　as　I　get　a　job　even　as　a　crossing　sweeper。　
Subsequently；　being　not　quite　so　down　in　the　mouth　after　the　two…and…six　he　got；　he　informed　Stephen　about　a　fellow　by　the　name　of　Bags　isky　that　he　said　Stephen　knew　well　out　of　Fullam's；　the　shipchandler's　bookkeeper　there；　that　used　to　be　often　round　in　Nagle's　back　with　O'Mara　and　a　little　chap　with　a　stutter　the　name　of　Tighe。　Anyhow；　he　was　lagged　the　night　before　last　and　fined　ten　bob　for　a　drunk　and　disorderly　and　refusing　to　go　with　the　constable。　
Mr　Bloom　in　the　meanwhile　kept　dodging　about　in　the　vicinity　of　the　cobblestones　near　the　brazier　of　coke　in　front　of　the　corporation　watchman's　sentrybox；　who；　evidently　a　glutton　for　work；　it　struck　him；　was　having　a　quiet　forty　winks　for　all　intents　and　purposes　on　his　own　private　account　while　Dublin　slept。　He　threw　an　odd　eye　at　the　same　time　now　and　then　at　Stephen's　anything　but　immaculately　attired　interlocutor　as　if　he　had　seen　that　nobleman　somewhere　or　other　though　where　he　was　not　in　a　position　to　truthfully　state　nor　had　he　the　remotest　idea　when。　Being　a　levelheaded　individual　who　could　give　points　to　not　a　few　in　point　of　shrewd　observation；　he　also　remarked　on　his　very　dilapidated　hat　and　slouchy　wearing　apparel　generally；　testifying　to　a　chronic　impecuniosity。　Probably　he　was　one　of　his　hangerson　but　for　the　matter　of　that　it　was　merely　a　question　of　one　preying　on　his　next　door　neighbour　all　round；　in　every　deep；　so　to　put　it；　a　deeper　depth　and　for　the　matter　of　that　if　the　man　in　the　street　chanced　to　be　in　the　dock　himself　penal　servitude；　with　or　without　the　option　of　a　fine；　would　be　a　very　rara　avis　altogether。　In　any　case　he　had　a　consummate　amount　of　cool　assurance　intercepting　people　at　that　hour　of　the　night　or　morning。　Pretty　thick　that　was　certainly。　
The　pair　parted　pany　and　Stephen　rejoined　Mr　Bloom；　who；　with　his　practised　eye；　was　not　without　perceiving　that　he　had　succumbed　to　the　blandiloquence　of　the　other　parasite。　Alluding　to　the　encounter　he　said；　laughingly；　Stephen；　that　is：　
　He's　down　on　his　luck。　He　asked　me　to　ask　you　to　ask　somebody　named　Boylan；　a　billsticker；　to　give　him　a　job　as　a　sandwichman。　
At　this　intelligence；　in　which　he　seemingly　evinced　little　interest；　Mr　Bloom　gazed　abstractedly　for　the　space　of　a　half　a　second　or　so　in　the　direction　of　a　bucket　dredger；　rejoicing　in　the　farfamed　name　of　Eblana；　moored　alongside　Customho