(A sinister figure leans on plaited
legs against O’BEIRNE’S wall,
A
visage unknown, injected with
dark Mercury. From under A
wideleaved
sombrero the figure regards him
with evil eye.)
Bloom: BUENAS NOCHES, senorita Blanca. QUE Calle ES esta?
The figure: (Impassive, raises A signal arm) Password. SRAID MABBOT.
Bloom: Haha. MERCI. Esperanto. SLAN Leath. (He Mutters) Gaelic league spy, sent by that fireeater.
(He steps forward. A SACKSHOULDERED
ragman bars his path. He
steps left,
RAGSACKMAN left.)
Bloom: I beg. (He swerves, Sidles, Stepaside, slips past and on.)
Bloom: Keep to the right, right, right. If there is a signpost planted by the Touring Club at Stepaside who procured that public boon? I who lost my way and contributed to the columns of the irish cyclist the letter headed in darkest Stepaside. Keep, keep, keep to the right. Rags and bones at midnight. A fence more likely. First place murderer makes for. Wash off his sins of the world.
(Jacky Caffrey, hunted by Tommy Caffrey, runs full tilt against bloom.)
BLOOM: O
(Shocked, on weak hams, he
halts. Tommy and Jacky vanish
there, there.
Bloom pats with parcelled hands
watch FOBPOCKET, BOOKPOCKET, PURSEPOKET,
sweets of sin, potato soap.)
Bloom: Beware of pickpockets. Old thieves’ dodge. Collide. Then snatch your purse.