Улисс

           —Whatwasit?MartinCunninghamasked,astheywentonupthestaircase.

           —ThelordlieutenantgeneralandgeneralgovernorofIreland,JohnWyseNolanansweredfromthestairfoot.

           ***

           AstheytrodacrossthethickcarpetBuckMulliganwhisperedbehindhisPanamatoHaines:

           —Parnell’sbrother.Thereinthecorner.

           Theychoseasmalltablenearthewindow,oppositealongfacedmanwhosebeardandgazehungintentlydownonachessboard.

           —Isthathe?Hainesasked,twistingroundinhisseat.

           —Yes,Mulligansaid.That’sJohnHoward,hisbrother,ourcitymarshal.

           JohnHowardParnelltranslatedawhitebishopquietlyandhisgreyclawwentupagaintohisforeheadwhereatitrested.Aninstantafter,underitsscreen,hiseyeslookedquickly,ghostbright,athisfoeandfelloncemoreuponaworkingcorner.

           —I’lltakeamélange,Hainessaidtothewaitress.

           —Twomélanges,BuckMulligansaid.Andbringussomesconesandbutterandsomecakesaswell.

           Whenshehadgonehesaid,laughing:

           —WecallitD.B.C.becausetheyhavedamnbadcakes.O,butyoumissedDedalusonHamlet.

           Hainesopenedhisnewboughtbook.

           —I’msorry,hesaid.Shakespeareisthehappyhuntinggroundofallmindsthathavelosttheirbalance.

           Theoneleggedsailorgrowledattheareaof14Nelsonstreet:

           —Englandexpects...

           BuckMulligan’sprimrosewaistcoatshookgailytohislaughter.

           —Youshouldseehim,hesaid,whenhisbodylosesitsbalance.WanderingÆngusIcallhim.

           —Iamsurehehasanidéefixe,Hainessaid,pinchinghischinthoughtfullywiththumbandforefinger.