Zoe:  Thursday’s child has far to go. (She traces lines on his hand) Line of fate.  Influential friends.

Florry:  (Pointing) Imagination.

Zoe:  Mount of the moon.  You’ll meet with a ... (She peers at his hands abruptly) I won’t tell you what’s not good for you.  Or do you want to know?

Bloom:  (Detaches her fingers and offers his palm) More harm than good. 
Here.  Read mine.

Bella:  Show. (She turns up Bloom’s hand) I thought so.  Knobby knuckles for the women.

Zoe:  (Peering at Bloom’s palm) Gridiron.  Travels beyond the sea and marry money.

Bloom:  Wrong.

Zoe:  (Quickly) O, I see.  Short little finger.  Henpecked husband.  That wrong?

(Black Liz, A huge rooster hatching in A chalked circle, rises, stretches her wings and clucks.)

Black Liz:  Gara.  Klook.  Klook.  Klook.

(She Sidles from her newlaid egg and Waddles off)

Bloom:  (Points to his hand) That weal there is an accident.  Fell and cut it twentytwo years ago.  I was sixteen.

Zoe:  I see, says the blind man.  Tell us news.

Stephen:  See?  Moves to one great goal.  I am twentytwo.  Sixteen years ago he was twentytwo too.  Sixteen years ago I twentytwo tumbled.  Twentytwo years ago he sixteen fell off his hobbyhorse. (He winces) Hurt my hand somewhere.  Must see a dentist.  Money?

(Zoe whispers to Florry.  They giggle.  Bloom releases his hand and writes
idly on the table in backhand, pencilling slow curves.)

Florry:  What?

(A HACKNEYCAR, number three hundred and twentyfour, with A
gallantbuttocked mare, driven by James Barton, harmony avenue,
Donnybrook, trots past. Blazes Boylan and Lenehan sprawl swaying on the
SIDESEATS.  The Ormond boots crouches behind on the axle.  Sadly over the
crossblind Lydia douce and Mina Kennedy gaze.)

The boots:  (Jogging, mocks them with thumb and wriggling WORMFINGERS) Haw haw have you the horn?