Улісс
Chapter 1
Hainescameinfromthedoorwayandsaidquietly:
—Thatwomaniscomingupwiththemilk.
—TheblessingsofGodonyou!BuckMulligancried,jumpingupfromhischair.Sitdown.Pourouttheteathere.Thesugarisinthebag.Here,Ican’tgofumblingatthedamnedeggs.
Hehackedthroughthefryonthedishandslappeditoutonthreeplates,saying:
—InnominePatrisetFiliietSpiritusSancti.
Hainessatdowntopouroutthetea.
—I’mgivingyoutwolumpseach,hesaid.But,Isay,Mulligan,youdomakestrongtea,don’tyou?
BuckMulligan,hewingthickslicesfromtheloaf,saidinanoldwoman’swheedlingvoice:
—WhenImakesteaImakestea,asoldmotherGrogansaid.AndwhenImakeswaterImakeswater.
—ByJove,itistea,Hainessaid.
BuckMulliganwentonhewingandwheedling:
—SoIdo,MrsCahill,saysshe.Begob,ma’am,saysMrsCahill,Godsendyoudon’tmakethemintheonepot.
Helungedtowardshismessmatesinturnathicksliceofbread,impaledonhisknife.
—That’sfolk,hesaidveryearnestly,foryourbook,Haines.FivelinesoftextandtenpagesofnotesaboutthefolkandthefishgodsofDundrum.Printedbytheweirdsistersintheyearofthebigwind.
HeturnedtoStephenandaskedinafinepuzzledvoice,liftinghisbrows:
—Canyourecall,brother,ismotherGrogan’steaandwaterpotspokenofintheMabinogionorisitintheUpanishads?
—Idoubtit,saidStephengravely.
—Doyounow?BuckMulligansaidinthesametone.Yourreasons,pray?
—Ifancy,Stephensaidasheate,itdidnotexistinoroutoftheMabinogion.
