Ulysses Page #4

Water, cold, softness.

Soft eyes, soft hand,

soft, tender.

I am lonely here.

Ah, touch me soon, now!

What is that word

known to all men?

I'm quiet and lonely here.

Sad too.

Tap.

Touch me!

This is a great old custom.

Glad to know that is not dead.

So look through your friend,

Dedalus!

- Who?

- Your son and heir.

That Mulligan

boor was with him?

No!

He even went alone.

He is with the ratings down.

Mulligan is a damn criminal.

His name stinks all over Dublin.

But with God's help

and of His blessed Mother,

I still write a letter

any day,

for his mother, or aunt,

or whoever,

that will open your eyes.

I predict its downfall,

believe me!

I will not allow his nephew

bastard ruin my son.

Numb by his son.

He's right, something to cling to.

If Rudy had lived.

Must have been that morning,

Raymond,

she was at the window watching

2 dogs doing it incessantly.

- The increasing desire it.

- Give us a touch, Poldy.

God, I'm dying for it.

How life begins.

And then it grows.

My son inside her.

I could have helped her in life.

I could.

- What is the problem?

- We stopped.

- Where are we?

- In the grand canal.

- Oh, the weather is changing.

- You are unpredictable as

baby's bottom.

We went back to walking.

- How are you?

- He is not seeing.

Ah, yes it is!

- How are you?

- Who?

Blazes Boylan.

There he is, taking a breath.

- Sad! A child!

- Poor thing. Better not to live.

Hmm .. but they say the worst

is the man who takes his own life.

Temporary insanity, of course!

We must have a charitable view.

They say that man

that does this is cowardly.

Well, we should not judge.

I was disturbed to see him

talking about suicide before Bloom.

- What? Why?

- His father poisoned himself.

My God! I learned

now. Poisoned herself?

Hey, who's the guy behind

us? He is familiar to me.

Bloom. Madame Molly Bloom was ...

is, I mean, the soprano.

- She is your wife.

- Ah, I knew it!

I danced with her for 15 or

17 years ago, and she was

a great partner.

There is a history,

that two drunks came here

a night of fog,

look for the grave of a friend.

They asked for Mulcahy

and were informed of the location of the grave.

After wandering through the smoke,

they found the tomb.

A drunk read the name

Terence Mulcahy, and the other

was looking at the statue

of our Saviour the widow built.

After looking at the

sacred figure said:

"It looks nothing like the man.

Not Mulcahy, whoever did this! "

Close the door!

Has a hurricane out there!

Oh, on the announcement of Keys.

He wants two calls at the top.

We can do it.

You have the design?

Well, I can pick up at the library.

He was in the newspaper Kilkenny.

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