Page 796 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

(He feels his trouser pocket) Poor mamma’s panacea. Heel
easily catch in track or bootlace in a cog. Day the wheel of
the black Maria peeled off my shoe at Leonard’s corner.
Third time is the charm. Shoe trick. Insolent driver. I

ought to report him. Tension makes them nervous. Might
be the fellow balked me this morning with that horsey
woman. Same style of beauty. Quick of him all the same.
The stiff walk. True word spoken in jest. That awful
cramp in Lad lane. Something poisonous I ate. Emblem of
luck. Why? Probably lost cattle. Mark of the beast. (He
closes his eyes an instant) Bit light in the head. Monthly or
effect of the other. Brainfogfag. That tired feeling. Too
much for me now. Ow!
(A sinister figure leans on plaited legs against o’beirne’s
wall, a visage unknown, injected with dark mercury. From
under a wideleaved sombrero the figure regards him with
evil eye.)
BLOOM: Buenas noches, señorita Blanca, que calle es esta?
THE FIGURE: (Impassive, raises a signal arm) Password.
Sraid Mabbot.
BLOOM: Haha. Merci. Esperanto. Slan leath. (He
mutters) Gaelic league spy, sent by that fireeater.
(He steps forward. A sackshouldered ragman bars his path.
He steps left, ragsackman left.)

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