Page 800 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

(He looks up. Beside her mirage of datepalms a handsome
woman in Turkish costume stands before him. Opulent curves fill
out her scarlet trousers and jacket, slashed with gold. A wide

yellow cummerbund girdles her. A white yashmak, violet in the
night, covers her face, leaving free only her large dark eyes and
raven hair.)
BLOOM: Molly!
MARION: Welly? Mrs Marion from this out, my dear
man, when you speak to me. (Satirically) Has poor little
hubby cold feet waiting so long?
BLOOM: (Shifts from foot to foot) No, no. Not the least
little bit.
(He breathes in deep agitation, swallowing gulps of air,
questions, hopes, crubeens for her supper, things to tell her,
excuse, desire, spellbound. A coin gleams on her forehead. On her
feet are jewelled toerings. Her ankles are linked by a slender
fetterchain. Beside her a camel, hooded with a turreting turban,
waits. A silk ladder of innumerable rungs climbs to his bobbing
howdah. He ambles near with disgruntled hindquarters. Fiercely
she slaps his haunch, her goldcurb wristbangles angriling, scolding
him in Moorish.)
MARION: Nebrakada! Femininum!
(The camel, lifting a foreleg, plucks from a tree a large mango
fruit, offers it to his mistress, blinking, in his cloven hoof, then

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