Ulysses

The Hallucination of Ulysses

Come up here, Dedalus!

Come up, you fearful jesuit!

Dedalus?

Here is my dear brothers

the real Christ

body, soul,

the blood and guts.

Slow music, please

Silence all!

Tell me, Mulligan!

Yes, my dear!

How long is Haines

will this tower?

He thinks you

is not a gentleman.

Ah, that pesky English!

Bursting with money

and indigestion,

because it comes from Oxford.

You know, Dedalus?

He does not understand.

If he stays here,

go away!

Hey, lend me your handkerchief

so I wipe my razor.

The bard's scarf!

The new color for the Irish poets

green snot.

Can you imagine the taste?

My aunt believes

you killed your mother.

He could have knelt down, when

his dying mother asked, Dedalus.

I imagine his mother,

pleading with his last breath,

so that you kneel

and prayed for her.

There is something sinister in you.

Even a Jesuit education

creates strange things.

Ah, poor doggy!

I'll give you some shirts

and some scarves.

How are going

breeches of the second hand?

Thanks, but I can not use them.

Are gray.

Ah, can not use them!

Etiquette is etiquette!

He kills his mother,

but can not use gray pants.

Look at you,

his dreadful bard!

What do you have against me?

SPIT!

Remember the first time

I went to your house,

after the death of my mother?

Her aunt asked who

was in her room.

- What I said?

"Ah, Dedalus,

whose mother died stupidly. "

I said that?

And what's wrong with that?

I think the death beast.

I see dead in droves,

every day being

processed in casings

in the dissecting room.

That's pretty beast

that's it.

You do not knelt

on his deathbed and yet

is upset with me.

What nonsense!

I said it, but declined

offend the memory of his mother.

I'm not thinking

on offense to my mother.

- What, then?

- On the offense to me.

- You're impossible!

- Are you there, Mulligan?

I'm coming!

Do not be sad about it all day.

Let the bad mood away.

Haines wants breakfast each morning.

He finds it very smart.

Tickle it with a

changed, okay?

I got paid,

this morning.

At school? It was enough?

Lend us a little,

let's take a nice drop.

In the name of the Father, the Son,

and the Holy Spirit.

I'll tell you something, Mulligan,

you make a very strong tea.

As the old mother Grogan said,

when I make tea, I make tea

when I make water,

I make water!

- My God, it is tea!

- "Is this what I do, Mrs Cahill,

she said. Attention: Mrs. Cahill,

God sent it, do not use the teapot. "

Put on your book

as an indication of Stephen,

This is folk art!

Seriously, Dedalus, I'm broken.

Just go to school

And bring me some

the money they owe me.

Today's poets

should drink and dream.

Yes ..

Today, Ireland expects

his men to do their duty.

I need to visit

your national library today.

But first,

let's get to our dive!

This is the day

their monthly bath, Dedalus?

The dirty poet undertakes

to wash once a month.

All Ireland is washed

by the Gulf Stream.

I intend to use your phrases such

in my book, if you please.

- Will I be paid for it?

- Well, that I can not say.

Oh, wait until you hear

his theory of Hamlet, Haines.

Come on, Dedalus!

Have you eaten all we left.

What is your theory about Hamlet?

No!

I am not qualified to do so!

You could not understand it

without drinking a little, right?

It's simple.

He proves mathematically

that Hamlet's grandson

is Shakespeare's grandfather,

and that he himself,

is the spirit of his father.

What?

Himself?

A little drink of anything,

can loosen the tongue of Dedalus.

I once read a theory about

such thing as a father and son

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