Page 952 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

THE GREEN LODGES: Soft day, sir John! Soft day,
your honour!
(Private Carr, Private Compton and Cissy Caffrey pass

beneath the windows, singing in discord.)
STEPHEN: Hark! Our friend noise in the street.
ZOE: (Holds up her hand) Stop!
PRIVATE CARR, PRIVATE COMPTON AND
CISSY CAFFREY:

Yet I’ve a sort a
Yorkshire relish for ...

ZOE: That’s me. (She claps her hands) Dance! Dance!
(She runs to the pianola) Who has twopence?

BLOOM: Who’ll ...?
LYNCH: (Handing her coins) Here.
STEPHEN: (Cracking his fingers impatiently) Quick!
Quick! Where’s my augur’s rod? (He runs to the piano and
takes his ashplant, beating his foot in tripudium)
ZOE: (Turns the drumhandle) There.
(She drops two pennies in the slot. Gold, pink and violet
lights start forth. The drum turns purring in low hesitation waltz.
Professor Goodwin, in a bowknotted periwig, in court dress,
wearing a stained inverness cape, bent in two from incredible age,
totters across the room, his hands fluttering. He sits tinily on the

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