Page 780 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

the honeymilk of Canaan’s land. Thy cow’s dug was
tough, what? Ay, but her milk is hot and sweet and
fattening. No dollop this but thick rich bonnyclaber. To
her, old patriarch! Pap! Per deam Partulam et Pertundam nunc

est bibendum!
All off for a buster, armstrong, hollering down the
street. Bonafides. Where you slep las nigh? Timothy of the
battered naggin. Like ole Billyo. Any brollies or gumboots
in the fambly? Where the Henry Nevil’s sawbones and ole
clo? Sorra one o’ me knows. Hurrah there, Dix! Forward
to the ribbon counter. Where’s Punch? All serene. Jay,
look at the drunken minister coming out of the maternity
hospal! Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus, Pater et Filius. A
make, mister. The Denzille lane boys. Hell, blast ye!
Scoot. Righto, Isaacs, shove em out of the bleeding
limelight. Yous join uz, dear sir? No hentrusion in life.
Lou heap good man. Allee samee dis bunch. En avant, mes
enfants! Fire away number one on the gun. Burke’s!
Burke’s! Thence they advanced five parasangs. Slattery’s
mounted foot. Where’s that bleeding awfur? Parson Steve,
apostates’ creed! No, no, Mulligan! Abaft there! Shove
ahead. Keep a watch on the clock. Chuckingout time.
Mullee! What’s on you? Ma mère m’a mariée. British
Beatitudes! Retamplatan Digidi Boumboum. Ayes have it. To

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