Mrs Bellingham: Me too.
Mrs Yelverton Barry: Me too.
(Several highly respectable Dublin
ladies hold up improper letters
received from bloom.)
The honourable Mrs Mervyn Talboys: (Stamps her jingling spurs in A sudden paroxysm of fury) I will, by the God above me. I’ll scourge the pigeonlivered cur as long as I can stand over him. I’ll flay him alive.
Bloom: (His eyes closing,
Quails expectantly) Here? (He squirms)
(He pants cringing) I love the danger.
The honourable Mrs Mervyn Talboys: Very much so! I’ll make it hot for you. I’ll make you dance Jack Latten for that.
Mrs Bellingham: Tan his breech well, the upstart! Write the stars and stripes on it!
Mrs Yelverton Barry: Disgraceful! There’s no excuse for him! A married man!
Bloom: All these people. I meant only the spanking idea. A warm tingling glow without effusion. Refined birching to stimulate the circulation.
The honourable Mrs Mervyn Talboys: (Laughs derisively) O, did you, my fine fellow? Well, by the living God, you’ll get the surprise of your life now, believe me, the most unmerciful hiding a man ever bargained for. You have lashed the dormant tigress in my nature into fury.
Mrs Bellingham: (Shakes her muff and quizzing-glasses vindictively) Make him smart, Hanna dear. Give him ginger. Thrash the mongrel within an inch of his life. The cat-o’-nine-tails. Geld him. Vivisect him.
Bloom: (Shuddering, shrinking, joins his hands: With hangdog mien) O cold! O shivery! It was your ambrosial beauty. Forget, forgive. Kismet. Let me off this once. (He offers the other cheek)
Mrs Yelverton Barry: (Severely) Don’t do so on any account, Mrs Talboys! He should be soundly trounced!