stephen (throws up his hands.) o， this is too monotonous！ nothing. he wants my money and my life， though want must be his master， for some brutish empire of his. money i haven't. (he searches his pockets vaguely.) gave it to someone.
private carr who wants your bleeding money？
stephen (tries to move off.) will some one tell me where i am least likely to meet these necessary evils？ ？a se voit aussi à paris. not that i... but by saint patrick！...
(the women's heads coalesce. old gummy granny in sugarloaf hat appears seated on a toadstool， the deathflower of the potato blight on her breast.)stephen aha！ i know you， grammer！ hamlet， revenge！ the old sow that eats her farrow！
old gummy granny (rocking to and fro.) ireland's sweetheart， the king of spain's daughter， alanna. strangers in my house， bad manners to them！ (she keens with banshee woe.) ochone！ ochone！ silk of the kine！ (she wails.) you met with poor old ireland and how does she stand？
stephen how do i stand you？ the hat trick！ where's the third person of the blessed trinity？ soggarth aroon？ the reverend carrion crow.
cissy caffrey (shrill.) stop them from fighting！
a rough our men retreated.
private carr (tugging at his belt.) i'll wring the neck of any bugger says a word against my fucking king.
bloom (terrified.) he said nothing. not a word. a pure misunderstanding.
the citizen erin go bragh！
(major tweedy and the citizen exhibit to each other medals， decorations， trophies of war wounds. both salute with fierce hostility.)private compton go it， harry. do him one in the eye. he's a proboer.
stephen did i？ when？
bloom (to the redcoats.) we fought for you in south africa， irish missile troops. isn't that history？ royal dublin fusiliers. honoured by our monarch.
the navvy (staggering past.) o， yes. o， god， yes！ o， make the kwawr a krowawr！ o！ bo！
(casqued halberdiers in armour thrust forward a pentice of gutted spear points. major tweedy， moustached like turko the terrible， in bearskin cap with hackle plume and accoutrements， with epaulette， gilt chevrons and sabretache， his breast bright with medals， toes the line. he gives the pilgrim warrior's sign of the knights templars.)major tweedy (growls gruffly.) rorke's drift！ up， guards， and at them！ mahal shalal hashbaz.