Page 234 - ULYSSES
P. 234
Ulysses
their cigarettes in turn. J. J. O’Molloy opened his case
again and offered it.
—Thanky vous, Lenehan said, helping himself.
The editor came from the inner office, a straw hat awry
on his brow. He declaimed in song, pointing sternly at
professor MacHugh:
—’Twas rank and fame that tempted thee,
‘Twas empire charmed thy heart.
The professor grinned, locking his long lips.
—Eh? You bloody old Roman empire? Myles
Crawford said.
He took a cigarette from the open case. Lenehan,
lighting it for him with quick grace, said:
—Silence for my brandnew riddle!
—Imperium romanum, J. J. O’Molloy said gently. It
sounds nobler than British or Brixton. The word reminds
one somehow of fat in the fire.
Myles Crawford blew his first puff violently towards
the ceiling.
—That’s it, he said. We are the fat. You and I are the
fat in the fire. We haven’t got the chance of a snowball in
hell.
THE GRANDEUR THAT WAS ROME
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