Ulysses Part 80

--Poor old Goodwin was the pianist that night, Father Cowley reminded them. There was a slight difference of opinion between himself and the Collard grand.

There was.

--A symposium all his own, Mr Dedalus said. The devil wouldn't stop him.

He was a crotchety old fellow in the primary stage of drink.

--G.o.d, do you remember? Ben bulky Dollard said, turning from the punished keyboard. And by j.a.pers I had no wedding garment.

They laughed all three. He had no wed. All trio laughed. No wedding garment.

--Our friend Bloom turned in handy that night, Mr Dedalus said. Where's my pipe, by the way?

He wandered back to the bar to the lost chord pipe. Bald Pat carried two diners' drinks, Richie and Poldy. And Father Cowley laughed again.

--I saved the situation, Ben, I think.

--You did, averred Ben Dollard. I remember those tight trousers too.

That was a brilliant idea, Bob.

Father Cowley blushed to his brilliant purply lobes. He saved the situa.

Tight trou. Brilliant ide.

--I knew he was on the rocks, he said. The wife was playing the piano in the coffee palace on Sat.u.r.days for a very trifling consideration and who was it gave me the wheeze she was doing the other business? Do you remember? We had to search all Holles street to find them till the chap in Keogh's gave us the number. Remember? Ben remembered, his broad visage wondering.

--By G.o.d, she had some luxurious operacloaks and things there.

Mr Dedalus wandered back, pipe in hand.

--Merrion square style. Balldresses, by G.o.d, and court dresses. He wouldn't take any money either. What? Any G.o.d's quant.i.ty of c.o.c.ked hats and boleros and trunkhose. What?

--Ay, ay, Mr Dedalus nodded. Mrs Marion Bloom has left off clothes of all descriptions.

Jingle jaunted down the quays. Blazes sprawled on bounding tyres.

Liver and bacon. Steak and kidney pie. Right, sir. Right, Pat.

Mrs Marion. Met him pike hoses. Smell of burn. Of Paul de k.o.c.k. Nice name he.

--What's this her name was? A buxom la.s.sy. Marion...

--Tweedy.

--Yes. Is she alive?

--And kicking.

--She was a daughter of...

--Daughter of the regiment.

--Yes, begad. I remember the old drummajor.

Mr Dedalus struck, whizzed, lit, puffed savoury puff after

--Irish? I don't know, faith. Is she, Simon?

Puff after stiff, a puff, strong, savoury, crackling.

--Buccinator muscle is... What?... Bit rusty... O, she is... My Irish Molly, O.

He puffed a pungent plumy blast.

--From the rock of Gibraltar... all the way.

They pined in depth of ocean shadow, gold by the beerpull, bronze by maraschino, thoughtful all two. Mina Kennedy, 4 Lismore terrace, Drumcondra with Idolores, a queen, Dolores, silent.

Pat served, uncovered dishes. Leopold cut liverslices. As said before he ate with relish the inner organs, nutty gizzards, fried cods' roes while Richie Goulding, Collis, Ward ate steak and kidney, steak then kidney, bite by bite of pie he ate Bloom ate they ate.

Bloom with Goulding, married in silence, ate. Dinners fit for princes.

By Bachelor's walk jogjaunty jingled Blazes Boylan, bachelor, in sun in heat, mare's glossy rump atrot, with flick of whip, on bounding tyres: sprawled, warmseated, Boylan impatience, ardentbold. Horn. Have you the?

Horn. Have you the? Haw haw horn.

Over their voices Dollard ba.s.sooned attack, booming over bombarding chords:

--_When love absorbs my ardent soul_...

Roll of Bensoulbenjamin rolled to the quivery loves.h.i.+very roofpanes.

--War! War! cried Father Cowley. You're the warrior.

--So I am, Ben Warrior laughed. I was thinking of your landlord. Love or money.

He stopped. He wagged huge beard, huge face over his blunder huge.

--Sure, you'd burst the tympanum of her ear, man, Mr Dedalus said through smoke aroma, with an organ like yours.

In bearded abundant laughter Dollard shook upon the keyboard. He would.

--Not to mention another membrane, Father Cowley added. Half time, Ben.

_Amoroso ma non troppo._ Let me there.

Miss Kennedy served two gentlemen with tankards of cool stout. She pa.s.sed a remark. It was indeed, first gentleman said, beautiful weather.

They drank cool stout. Did she know where the lord lieutenant was going?

And heard steelhoofs ringhoof ring. No, she couldn't say. But it would be in the paper. O, she need not trouble. No trouble. She waved about her outspread _Independent,_ searching, the lord lieutenant, her pinnacles of hair slowmoving, lord lieuten. Too much trouble, first gentleman said. O, not in the least. Way he looked that. Lord lieutenant. Gold by bronze heard iron steel.

--............ _my ardent soul_ _I care not foror the morrow._

In liver gravy Bloom mashed mashed potatoes. Love and War someone is.