尤利西斯-第90章

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fall　in　the　noonday　soupplate；　while　on　her　rere　lower　down　are　two　additional　protuberances；　suggestive　of　potent　rectum　and　tumescent　for　palpation　which　leave　nothing　to　be　desired　save　pactness。　Such　fleshy　parts　are　the　product　of　careful　nurture。　When　coopfattened　their　livers　reach　an　elephantine　size。　Pellets　of　new　bread　with　fennygreek　and　gumbenjamin　swamped　down　by　potions　of　green　tea　endow　them　during　their　brief　existence　with　natural　pincushions　of　quite　colossal　blubber。　That　suits　your　book；　eh？　Fleshhotpots　of　Egypt　to　hanker　after。　Wallow　in　it。　Lycopodium。　（His　throat　twitches。）　Slapbang！　There　he　goes　again。　
BLOOM　The　stye　I　dislike。　
VIRAG　（Arches　his　eyebrows。）　Contact　with　a　goldring；　they　say。　Argumentum　ad　feminam；　as　we　said　in　old　Rome　and　ancient　Greece　in　the　consulship　of　Diplodocus　and　Ichthyo　saurus。　For　the　rest　Eve's　sovereign　remedy。　Not　for　sale。　Hire　only。　Huguenot。　（He　twitches。）　It　is　a　funny　sound。　
（He　coughs　encouragingly。）　But　possibly　it　is　only　a　wart。　I　presume　you　shall　have　remembered　what　I　will　have　taught　you　on　that　head？　Wheatenmeal　with　honey　and　nutmeg。　
BLOOM　（Reflecting。）　Wheatenmeal　with　lycopodium　and　syllabax。　This　searching　ordeal。　It　has　been　an　unusually　fatiguing　day；　a　chapter　of　accidents。　Wait。　I　mean；　wartsblood　spreads　warts；　you　said　。　
VIRAG　（Severely；　his　nose　hardhumped；　his　side　eye　winking。）　Stop　twirling　your　thumbs　and　have　a　good　old　thunk。　See；　you　have　forgotten。　Exercise　your　mnemotechnic。　La　causa　è　santa。　Tara。　Tara。　（Aside。）　He　will　surely　remember。　
BLOOM　Rosemary　also　did　I　understand　you　to　say　or　will　power　over　parasitic　tissues。　Then　nay　no　I　have　an　inkling。　The　touch　of　a　deadhand　cures。　Mnemo？　
VIRAG　（Excitedly。）　I　say　so。　I　say　so。　E'en　so。　Technic。　（He　taps　his　parchmentroll　energetically。）　This　book　tells　you　how　to　act　with　all　descriptive　particulars。　Consult　index　for　agitated　fear　of　aconite；　melancholy　of　muriatic；　priapic　pulsatilla。　Virag　is　going　to　talk　about　amputation。　Our　old　friend　caustic。　They　must　be　starved。　Snip　off　with　horsehair　under　the　denned　neck。　But；　to　change　the　venue　to　the　Bulgar　and　the　Basque；　have　you　made　up　your　mind　whether　you　like　or　dislike　women　in　male　habiliments？　（With　a　dry　snigger。）　You　intended　to　devote　an　entire　year　to　the　study　of　the　religious　problem　and　the　summer　months　of　1882　to　square　the　circle　and　win　that　million。　Pomegranate！　From　the　sublime　to　the　ridiculous　is　but　a　step。　Pyjamas；　let　us　say？　Or　stockingette　gusseted　knickers；　closed？　Or；　put　we　the　case；　those　plicated　binations；　camiknickers？　（He　crows　derisively。）　Keekeereekee！　
（Bloom　surveys　uncertainly　the　three　whores；　then　gazes　at　the　veiled　mauve　light；　hearing　the　everflying　moth。）　
BLOOM　I　wanted　then　to　have　now　concluded。　Nightdress　was　never。　Hence　this。　But　tomorrow　is　a　new　day　will　be。　Past　was　is　today。　What　now　is　will　then　tomorrow　as　now　was　be　past　yester。　
VIRAG　（Prompts　into　his　ear　in　a　pig's　whisper。）　Insects　of　the　day　spend　their　brief　existence　in　reiterated　coition；　lured　by　the　smell　of　the　inferiorly　pulchritudinous　female　possessing　extendified　pudendal　verve　in　dorsal　region。　Pretty　Poll！　（His　yellow　parrotbeak　gabbles　nasally。）　They　had　a　proverb　in　the　Carpathians　in　or　about　the　year　five　thousand　five　hundred　and　fifty　of　our　era。　One　tablespoonful　of　honey　will　attract　friend　Bruin　more　than　half　a　dozen　barrels　of　first　choice　malt　vinegar。　Bear's　buzz　bothers　bees。　But　of　this　apart。　At　another　time　we　may　resume。　We　were　very　pleased；　we　others。　（He　coughs　and；　bending　his　brow；　rubs　his　nose　thoughtfully　with　a　scooping　hand。）　You　shall　find　that　these　night　insects　follow　the　light。　An　illusion　for　remember　their　plex　unadjustable　eye。　For　all　these　knotty　points　see　the　seventeenth　book　of　my　Fundamentals　of　Sexology　or　the　Love　Passion　which　Doctor　L。　B。　says　is　the　book　sensation　of　the　year。　Some；　to　example；　there　are　again　whose　movements　are　automatic。　Perceive。　That　is　his　appropriate　sun。　Nightbird　nightsun　nighttown。　Chase　me；　Charley！　Buzz！　
BLOOM　Bee　or　bluebottle　too　other　day　butting　shadow　on　wall　dazed　self　then　me　wandered　dazed　down　shirt　good　job　I。。。　
VIRAG　（His　face　impassive；　laughs　in　a　rich　feminine　key。）　Splendid！　Spanish　fly　in　his　fly　or　mustard　plaster　on　his　dibble。　（He　gobbles　gluttonously　with　turkey　wattles。）　Bubbly　jock！　Bubbly　jock！　Where　are　we？　Open　Sesame！　eth　forth！　（He　unrolls　his　parchment　rapidly　and　reads；　his　glowworm's　nose　running　backwards　over　the　letters　which　he　claws。）　Stay；　good　friend。　I　bring　thee　thy　answer　Redbank　oysters　will　shortly　be　upon　us。　I'm　the　best　o'cook。　Those　succulent　bivalves　may　help　us　and　the　truffles　of　Perigord；　tubers　dislodged　through　mister　omnivorous　porker；　were　unsurpassed　in　cases　of　nervous　debility　or　viragitis。　Though　they　stink　yet　they　sting。　（He　wags　head　with　cackling　raillery。）　Jocular。　With　my　eyeglass　in　my　ocular。　
BLOOM　（Absently。）　Ocularly　woman's　bivalve　case　is　worse。　Always　open　sesame。　The　cloven　sex。　Why　they　fear　vermin；　creeping　things。　Yet　Eve　and　the　serpent　contradict。　Not　a　historical　fact。　Obvious　analogy　to　my　idea。　Serpents　too　are　gluttons　for　woman's　milk。　Wind　their　way　through　miles　of　omnivorous　forest　to　sucksucculent　her　breast　dry。　Like　those　bubblyjocular　Roman　matrons　one　reads　of　in　Elephantuliasis。　
VIRAG　（His　mouth　projected　in　hard　wrinkles；　eyes　stonily　forlornly　closed；　psalms　in　outlandish　monotone。）　That　the　cows　with　their　those　distended　udders　that　they　have　been　the　known。。。　
BLOOM　I　am　going　to　scream。　I　beg　your　pardon。　Ah？　So。　（He　repeats。）　Spontaneously　to　seek　out　the　saurian's　lair　in　order　to　entrust　their　teats　to　his　avid　suction。　Ant　milks　aphis。　（Profoundly。）　Instinct　rules　the　world。　In　life。　In　death。　
VIRAG　（Head　askew；　arches　his　back　and　hunched　wing…　shoulders；　peers　at　the　moth　out　of　blear　bulged　eyes；　points　a　homing　claw　and　cries。）　Who's　Ger　Ger？　Who's　dear　Gerald？　O；　I　much　fear　he　shall　be　most　badly　burned。　Will　some　pleashe　pershon　not　now　impediment　so　catastrophics　mit　agitation　of　firstclass　tablenumpkin？　（He　mews。）　Luss　puss　puss　puss！　（He　sighs；　draws　back　and　stares　sideways　down　with　dropping　underjaw。）　Well；　well。　He　doth　rest　anon。　
I'm　a　tiny　tiny　thing
Ever　flying　in　the　spring　
Round　and　round　a　ringaring。　
Long　ago　I　was　a　king；　
Now　I　do　this　kind　of　thing　
On　the　wing；　on　the　wing！　
Bing！
（He　rushes　against　the　mauve　shade　flapping　noisily。）　Pretty　pretty　pretty　pretty　pretty　pretty　petticoats。　
（From　left　upper　entrance　with　two　sliding　steps　Henry　Flower　es　forward　to　left　front　centre。　He　wears　a　dark　mantle　and　drooping　plumed　sombrero。　He　carries　a　silverstringed　inlaid　dulcimer　and　a　longstemmed　bamboo　Jacobs　pipe；　its　clay　bowl　fashioned　as　a　female　head。　He　wears　dark　velvet　hose　and　silverbuckled　pumps。　He　has　the　romantic　Saviour's　face　with　flowing　locks；　thin　beard　and　moustache。　His　spindlelegs　and　sparrow　feet　are　those　of　the　tenor　Mario；　prince　of　Candia。　He　settles　down　his　goffered　ruffs　and　moistens　his　lips　with　a　passage　of　his　amorous　tongue。）　
HENRY　（In　a　low　dulcet　voice；　touching　the　strings　of　his　guitar。）　There　is　a　flower　that　bloometh。　
（Virag　truculent；　his　jowl　set；　stares　at　the　lamp。　Grave　Bloom　regards　Zoe's　neck。　Henry　gallant　turns　with　pendent　dewlap　to　the　piano。）　
STEPHEN　（To　himself。）　Play　with　your　eyes　shut。　Imitate　pa。　Filling　my　belly　with　husks　of　swine。　Too　much　of　this。　I　will　arise　and　go　to　my。　Expect　this　is　the。　Steve；　thou　art　in　a　parlous　way。　Must　visit　old　Deasy　or　telegraph。　Our　interview　of　this　morning　has　left　on　me　a　deep　impression。　Though　our　ages。　Will　write　fully　tomorrow。　I'm　partially　drunk；　by　the　way。　（He　touches　the　keys　again。）　Minor　chord　es　now。　Yes。　Not　much　however。　
（Almidano　Artifoni　holds　out　a　batonroll　of　music　with　vigorous　moustachework。）　
ARTIFONI　Ci　rifletta。　Lei　rovina　tutto。　
FLORRY　Sing　us　something。　Love's　old　sweet　song。　
STEPHEN　No　voice。　I　am　a　most　finished　artist。　Lynch；　did　I　show　you　the　letter　about　the　lute？　
FLORRY　（Smirking。）　The　bird　that　can　sing　and　won't　sing。　
（The　Siamese　twins；　Philip　Drunk　and　Philip　Sober　two　Oxford　dons　with　lawnmowers；　appear　in　the　window　embrasure。　Both　are　masked　with　Matthew　Arnold's　face。）　
PHILIP　SOBER　Take　a　fool's　advice。　All　is　not　well。　Work　it　out　with　the　buttend　of　a　pencil；　like　a　good　young　idiot。　Three　pounds　twelve　you　got；　two　notes；　one　sovereign；　two　crowns；　if　youth　but　knew。　Mooney's　en　ville；　Mooney's　sur　mer；　the　Moira；　Larchet's；　Holles　street　hospital；　Burke's。　Eh？　I　am　watching　you。　
PHILIP　DRUNK　（Impatiently。）　Ah；　bosh；　man。　Go　to　hell！　I　paid　my　way。　If　I　could　only　find　out　about　octaves。　Reduplication　of　personality。　Who　was　it　told　me　his　name？　
（His　lawnmower　begins　to　purr。）　Aha；　yes。　Zoe　mou　sas　agapo。　Have　a　notion　I　was　here　before。　When　was　it　not　Atkinson　his　card　I　have　somewhere？　Mac　somebody。　Unmack　I　have　it。　He　told　me　about；　hold　on；　Swinburne；　was　it；　no？　
FLORRY　And　the　song？　
STEPHEN　Spirit　is　willing　but　the　flesh　is　weak。　
FLORRY　Are　you　out　of　Maynooth？　You're　like　someone　I　knew　once。　
STEPHEN　Out　of　it　now。　（To　himself。）　Clever。　
PHILIP　DRUNK　AND　PHILIP　SOBER　（Their　lawnmowers　purring　with　a　rigadoon　of　grasshalms。）　Clever　ever。　Out　of　it。　Out　of　it。　By　the　by　have　you　the　book；　the　thing；　the　ashplant？　Yes；　there　it；　yes。　Cleverever　outofitnow。　Keep　in　condition。　Do　like　us。　
ZOE　There　was　a　priest　down　here　two　nights　ago　to　do　his　bit　of　business　with　his　coat　buttoned　up。　You　needn't　try　to　hide；　I　says　to　him。　I　know　you've　a　Roman　collar。　
VIRAG　Perfectly　logical　from　his　standpoint。　Fall　of　man。　（Harshly；　his　pupils　waxing。）　To　hell　with　the　pope！　Nothing　new　under　the　sun。　I　am　the　Virag　who　disclosed　the　sex　secrets　of　monks　and　maidens。　Why　I　left　the　Church　of　Rome。　Read　the　Priest；　the　Woman　and　the　Confessional。　Penrose。　Flipperty　Jippert。　（He　wriggles。）　Woman；　undoing　with　sweet　pudor　her　belt　of　rushrope；　offers　her　allmoist　yoni　to　man's　lingam。　Short　time　after　man　presents　woman　with　pieces　of　jungle　meat。　Woman　shows　joy　and　covers　herself　with　featherskins。　Man　loves　her　yoni　fiercely　with　big　lingam；　the　stiff　one。　（He　cries。）　Coactus　volui。　Then　giddy　woman　will　run　about。　Strong　man　grasps　woman's　wrist。　Woman　squeals；　bites；　spucks。　Man；　now　fierce　angry；　strikes　woman's　fat　yadgana。　（He　chases　his　tail。）　Piffpaff！　Popo！　（He　stops；　sneezes。）　Pchp！　（He　worries　his　butt。）　Prrrrrht！　
LYNCH　I　hope　you　gave　the　good　father　a　penance。　Nine　glorias　for　shooting　a　bishop。　
ZOE　（Spouts　walrus　smoke　through　her　nostrils。）　He　couldn't　get　a　connection。　Only；　you　know；　sensation。　A　dry　rush。　
BLOOM　Poor　man！　
ZOE　（Lightly。）　Only　for　what　happened　him。　
BLOOM　How？　
VIRAG　（A　diabolic　rictus　of　black　luminosity　contracting　his　visage；　cranes　his　scraggy　neck　forward。　He　lifts　a　mooncalf　nozzle　and　howls。）　Verfluchte　Goim！　He　had　a　father；　forty　fathers。　He　never　existed。　Pig　God！　He　had　two　left　feet。　He　was　Judas　Iacchias；　a　Libyan　eunuch；　the　pope's　bastard。　（He　leans　out　on　tortured　forepaws；　elbows　bent　rigid；　his　eye　agonising　in　his　flat　skullneck　and　yelps　over　the　mute　world。）　A　son　of　a　whore。　Apocalypse。　
KITTY　And　Mary　Shortall　that　was　in　the　lock　with　the　pox　she　got　from　Ji