Private Carr:  (To Stephen) Say it again.

Stephen:  (Nervous, friendly, pulls himself up) I understand your point of view though I have no king myself for the moment.  This is the age of patent medicines.  A discussion is difficult down here.  But this is the point.  You die for your country.  Suppose. (He places his arm on private Carr’s sleeve) Not that I wish it for you.  But I say:  Let my country die for me.  Up to the present it has done so.  I didn’t want it to die.  Damn death.  Long live life!

Edward the seventh:  (Levitates over heaps of slain, in the garb and with the halo of joking Jesus, A white jujube in his phosphorescent face)

    My methods are new and are causing surprise. 
    To make the blind see I throw dust in their eyes.

Stephen:  Kings and unicorns! (He fills back A pace) Come somewhere and we’ll ...  What was that girl saying? ...

Private Compton:  Eh, Harry, give him a kick in the knackers.  Stick one into Jerry.

Bloom:  (To the privates, softly) He doesn’t know what he’s saying.  Taken a little more than is good for him.  Absinthe.  Greeneyed monster.  I know him.  He’s a gentleman, a poet.  It’s all right.

Stephen:  (Nods, smiling and laughing) Gentleman, patriot, scholar and judge of impostors.

Private Carr:  I don’t give a bugger who he is.

Private Compton:  We don’t give a bugger who he is.

Stephen:  I seem to annoy them.  Green rag to a bull.

(Kevin Egan of paris in black Spanish tasselled shirt and peep-O’-day
boy’s hat signs to Stephen.)

Kevin Egan:  H’lo!  Bonjour!  The VIEILLE OGRESSE with the dents JAUNES.

(Patrice Egan peeps from behind, his RABBITFACE nibbling A Quince leaf.)

Patrice:  SOCIALISTE!

Don Emile PATRIZIO Franz Rupert pope Hennessy:  (In medieval hauberk, two wild geese volant on his helm, with noble indignation points A mailed hand against the privates) Werf those eykes to footboden, big grand porcos of johnyellows todos covered of gravy!

Bloom:  (To Stephen) Come home.  You’ll get into trouble.