Улисс

           Awanderingcrone,lowlyformofanimmortalservingherconquerorandhergaybetrayer,theircommoncuckquean,amessengerfromthesecretmorning.Toserveortoupbraid,whetherhecouldnottell:butscornedtobegherfavour.

           —Itisindeed,ma’am,BuckMulligansaid,pouringmilkintotheircups.

           —Tasteit,sir,shesaid.

           Hedrankatherbidding.

           —Ifwecouldliveongoodfoodlikethat,hesaidtohersomewhatloudly,wewouldn’thavethecountryfullofrottenteethandrottenguts.Livinginabogswamp,eatingcheapfoodandthestreetspavedwithdust,horsedungandconsumptives’spits.

           —Areyouamedicalstudent,sir?theoldwomanasked.

           —Iam,ma’am,BuckMulligananswered.

           —Lookatthatnow,shesaid.

           Stephenlistenedinscornfulsilence.Shebowsheroldheadtoavoicethatspeakstoherloudly,herbonesetter,hermedicineman:mesheslights.Tothevoicethatwillshriveandoilforthegraveallthereisofherbutherwoman’suncleanloins,ofman’sfleshmadenotinGod’slikeness,theserpent’sprey.Andtotheloudvoicethatnowbidsherbesilentwithwonderingunsteadyeyes.

           —Doyouunderstandwhathesays?Stephenaskedher.

           —IsitFrenchyouaretalking,sir?theoldwomansaidtoHaines.

           Hainesspoketoheragainalongerspeech,confidently.

           —Irish,BuckMulligansaid.IsthereGaeliconyou?

           —IthoughtitwasIrish,shesaid,bythesoundofit.Areyoufromthewest,sir?

           —IamanEnglishman,Hainesanswered.

           —He’sEnglish,BuckMulligansaid,andhethinksweoughttospeakIrishinIreland.