Private Carr: (To Stephen) Say it again.
Stephen: (Nervous, friendly, pulls himself up) I understand your point of view though I have no king myself for the moment. This is the age of patent medicines. A discussion is difficult down here. But this is the point. You die for your country. Suppose. (He places his arm on private Carr’s sleeve) Not that I wish it for you. But I say: Let my country die for me. Up to the present it has done so. I didn’t want it to die. Damn death. Long live life!
Edward the seventh: (Levitates over heaps of slain, in the garb and with the halo of joking Jesus, A white jujube in his phosphorescent face)
My methods are new and are
To make the blind see I throw dust in their eyes.
Stephen: Kings and unicorns! (He fills back A pace) Come somewhere and we’ll ... What was that girl saying? ...
Private Compton: Eh, Harry, give him a kick in the knackers. Stick one into Jerry.
Bloom: (To the privates, softly) He doesn’t know what he’s saying. Taken a little more than is good for him. Absinthe. Greeneyed monster. I know him. He’s a gentleman, a poet. It’s all right.
Stephen: (Nods, smiling and laughing) Gentleman, patriot, scholar and judge of impostors.
Private Carr: I don’t give a bugger who he is.
Private Compton: We don’t give a bugger who he is.
Stephen: I seem to annoy them. Green rag to a bull.
(Kevin Egan of paris in black
Spanish tasselled shirt and peep-O’-day
boy’s hat signs to Stephen.)
Kevin Egan: H’lo! Bonjour! The VIEILLE OGRESSE with the dents JAUNES.
(Patrice Egan peeps from behind, his RABBITFACE nibbling A Quince leaf.)
Don Emile PATRIZIO Franz Rupert pope Hennessy: (In medieval hauberk, two wild geese volant on his helm, with noble indignation points A mailed hand against the privates) Werf those eykes to footboden, big grand porcos of johnyellows todos covered of gravy!
Bloom: (To Stephen) Come home. You’ll get into trouble.