Page 806 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

MRS BREEN: You were the lion of the night with
your seriocomic recitation and you looked the part. You
were always a favourite with the ladies.
BLOOM: (Squire of dames, in dinner jacket with

wateredsilk facings, blue masonic badge in his buttonhole, black
bow and mother-of-pearl studs, a prismatic champagne glass tilted
in his hand) Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Ireland,
home and beauty.
MRS BREEN: The dear dead days beyond recall.
Love’s old sweet song.
BLOOM: (Meaningfully dropping his voice) I confess I’m
teapot with curiosity to find out whether some person’s
something is a little teapot at present.
MRS BREEN: (Gushingly) Tremendously teapot!
London’s teapot and I’m simply teapot all over me! (She
rubs sides with him) After the parlour mystery games and the
crackers from the tree we sat on the staircase ottoman.
Under the mistletoe. Two is company.
BLOOM: (Wearing a purple Napoleon hat with an amber
halfmoon, his fingers and thumb passing slowly down to her soft
moist meaty palm which she surrenders gently) The witching
hour of night. I took the splinter out of this hand,
carefully, slowly. (Tenderly, as he slips on her finger a ruby
ring) Là ci darem la mano.

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