feels his trouser pocket) Poor
mamma’s panacea. Heel easily catch in track
or bootlace in a cog. Day the wheel of the black
Maria peeled off my shoe at Leonard’s corner.
Third time is the charm. Shoe trick. Insolent
driver. I ought to report him. Tension makes
them nervous. Might be the fellow balked me this
morning with that horsey woman. Same style of
beauty. Quick of him all the same. The stiff
walk. True word spoken in jest. That awful
cramp in Lad lane. Something poisonous I ate.
Emblem of luck. Why? Probably lost cattle.
Mark of the beast. (He closes his eyes
an instant) Bit light in the head. Monthly
or effect of the other. Brainfogfag. That
tired feeling. Too much for me now. Ow!
(A sinister figure leans on plaited
legs against O’BEIRNE’S wall,
A
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
steps left,
RAGSACKMAN left.)
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
there, there.
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.
