Private Carr:  (With ferocious articulation) I’ll do him in, so help me fucking Christ!  I’ll wring the bastard fucker’s bleeding blasted fucking windpipe!

Old gummy granny:  (Thrusts A dagger towards Stephen’s hand) Remove him, acushla.  At 8.35 a.m. you will be in heaven and Ireland will be free.  (She prays) O good God, take him!

(The retriever, nosing on the fringe of the crowd, barks noisily.)

Bloom:  (Runs to Lynch) Can’t you get him away?

Lynch:  He likes dialectic, the universal language.  Kitty! (To bloom) Get him away, you.  He won’t listen to me.

(He drags Kitty away.)

Stephen:  (Points) exit Judas.  Et LAQUEO Se SUSPENDIT.

Bloom:  (Runs to Stephen) Come along with me now before worse happens. 
Here’s your stick.

Stephen:  Stick, no.  Reason.  This feast of pure reason.

Cissy Caffrey:  (Pulling private Carr) Come on, you’re boosed.  He insulted me but I forgive him. (Shouting in his ear) I forgive him for insulting me.

Bloom:  (Over Stephen’s shoulder) Yes, go.  You see he’s incapable.

Private Carr:  (Breaks loose) I’ll insult him.

(He rushes towards Stephen, fist outstretched, and strikes him in the
face.  Stephen totters, collapses, falls, stunned. He lies prone, his face
to the sky, his hat rolling to the wall.  Bloom follows and picks it up.)

Major Tweedy:  (Loudly) Carbine in bucket!  Cease fire!  Salute!

The retriever:  (Barking furiously) Ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute.

The crowd:  Let him up!  Don’t strike him when he’s down!  Air!  Who?  The soldier hit him.  He’s a professor.  Is he hurted?  Don’t manhandle him!  He’s fainted!

A hag:  What call had the redcoat to strike the gentleman and he under the influence.  Let them go and fight the Boers!

The bawd:  Listen to who’s talking!  Hasn’t the soldier a right to go with his girl?  He gave him the coward’s blow.

(They grab at each other’s hair, claw at each other and spit)

The retriever:  (Barking) Wow wow wow.