(Private Carr and private Compton,
SWAGGERSTICKS tight in their OXTERS,
as they march unsteadily RIGHTABOUTFACE
and burst together from their
mouths A volleyed fart. Laughter
of men from the lane.
A hoarse virago
retorts.)
The virago: Signs on you, hairy arse.
More power the Cavan girl.
Cissy Caffrey: More luck to me.
Cavan, Cootehill and Belturbet. (She
sings)
I gave it to
Nelly
to stick in
her belly,
the leg of
the duck,
the leg of
the duck.
(Private Carr and private Compton
turn and COUNTERRETORT, their tunics
BLOODBRIGHT in A LAMPGLOW, black sockets
of caps on their blond cropped
Polls. Stephen Dedalus and
Lynch pass through the crowd
close to the
redcoats.)
Private Compton: (Jerks his
finger) Way for the parson.
Private Carr: (Turns and
calls) What ho, parson!
She has it, she got it,
wherever she put it,
the leg of the duck.
(Stephen, flourishing the ashplant in his left hand,
chants with joy the
introit for Paschal time.
Lynch, his JOCKEYCAP low on his
brow, attends
him, A sneer of discontent wrinkling
his face.)
Stephen: VIDI AQUAM EGREDIENTEM de
TEMPLO A LATERE dextro. Alleluia.
(The famished SNAGGLETUSKS of an
elderly bawd protrude from A doorway.)
The bawd: (Her voice whispering
huskily) Sst! Come here till I tell you.
Maidenhead inside. Sst!
Stephen: (ALTIUS ALIQUANTULUM) et OMNES
ad QUOS PERVENIT Aqua ISTA.
The bawd: (Spits in their
trail her jet of venom) Trinity
medicals.
Fallopian tube. All prick and no pence.
(Edy Boardman, sniffling, crouched
with Bertha supple, draws her
shawl
across her nostrils.)
