Page 891 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

I’m a tiny tiny thing
Ever flying in the spring
Round and round a ringaring.
Long ago I was a king
Now I do this kind of thing
On the wing, on the wing!
Bing!

(He rushes against the mauve shade, flapping noisily) Pretty
pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty petticoats.
(From left upper entrance with two gliding steps Henry Flower
comes forward to left front centre. He wears a dark mantle and
drooping plumed sombrero. He carries a silverstringed inlaid
dulcimer and a longstemmed bamboo Jacob’s pipe, its clay bowl
fashioned as a female head. He wears dark velvet hose and
silverbuckled pumps. He has the romantic Saviour’s face with
flowing locks, thin beard and moustache. His spindlelegs and
sparrow feet are those of the tenor Mario, prince of Candia. He
settles down his goffered ruffs and moistens his lips with a passage
of his amorous tongue.)
HENRY: (In a low dulcet voice, touching the strings of his

guitar) There is a flower that bloometh.
(Virag truculent, his jowl set, stares at the lamp. Grave
Bloom regards Zoe’s neck. Henry gallant turns with pendant
dewlap to the piano.)

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