Page 913 - ULYSSES
P. 913

Ulysses


                                     BLOOM: Science. To compare the various joys we
                                  each enjoy. (Earnestly) And really it’s better the position ...
                                  because often I used to wet ...

                                     BELLO:  (Sternly) No insubordination! The sawdust is
                                  there in the corner for you. I gave you strict instructions,
                                  didn’t I? Do it standing, sir! I’ll teach you to behave like a
                                  jinkleman! If I catch a trace on your swaddles. Aha! By the
                                  ass of the Dorans you’ll find I’m a martinet. The sins of
                                  your past are rising against you. Many. Hundreds.
                                     THE SINS OF THE PAST: (In a medley of voices) He
                                  went through a form of clandestine marriage with at least
                                  one woman in the shadow of the Black church.
                                  Unspeakable messages he telephoned mentally to Miss
                                  Dunn at an address in D’Olier street while he presented
                                  himself indecently to the instrument in the callbox. By
                                  word and deed he frankly encouraged a nocturnal
                                  strumpet to deposit fecal and other matter in an unsanitary
                                  outhouse attached to empty premises. In five public
                                  conveniences he wrote pencilled messages offering his
                                  nuptial partner to all strongmembered males. And by the
                                  offensively smelling vitriol works did he not pass night
                                  after night by loving courting couples to see if and what
                                  and how much he could see? Did he not lie in bed, the
                                  gross boar, gloating over a nauseous fragment of wellused



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