(A sinister figure leans on plaited
legs against O’BEIRNE’S wall,
visage unknown, injected with dark Mercury. From under A wideleaved
sombrero the figure regards him with evil eye.)
Bloom: BUENAS NOCHES, senorita Blanca. QUE Calle ES esta?
The figure: (Impassive, raises A signal arm) Password. SRAID MABBOT.
Bloom: Haha. MERCI. Esperanto. SLAN Leath. (He Mutters) Gaelic league spy, sent by that fireeater.
(He steps forward. A SACKSHOULDERED
ragman bars his path. He
Bloom: I beg. (He swerves, Sidles, Stepaside, slips past and on.)
Bloom: Keep to the right, right, right. If there is a signpost planted by the Touring Club at Stepaside who procured that public boon? I who lost my way and contributed to the columns of the irish cyclist the letter headed in darkest Stepaside. Keep, keep, keep to the right. Rags and bones at midnight. A fence more likely. First place murderer makes for. Wash off his sins of the world.
(Jacky Caffrey, hunted by Tommy Caffrey, runs full tilt against bloom.)
(Shocked, on weak hams, he
halts. Tommy and Jacky vanish
Bloom pats with parcelled hands watch FOBPOCKET, BOOKPOCKET, PURSEPOKET,
sweets of sin, potato soap.)
Bloom: Beware of pickpockets. Old thieves’ dodge. Collide. Then snatch your purse.