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Families of them. Bone them young so they metamspychosis. That we live after death. Our souls. That a man's soul after he dies. Dignam's soul... Did you finish it? he asked. Yes, she said. There's nothing smutty in it. Is she in love with the first fellow all the time? Never read it. Do you want another? Yes. Get another of Paul de Kock's. Nice name he has.
Mr Denis J Maginni, professor of dancing &c, in silk hat, slate frockcoat with silk facings, white kerchief tie, tight lavender trousers, canary gloves and pointed patent boots, walking with grave deportment most respectfully took the curbstone as he passed lady Maxwell at the corner of Dignam's court. Was that not Mrs M'Guinness?
His dachshund coat becomes a brown mortuary habit. His green eye flashes bloodshot. It was my funeral. Doctor Finucane pronounced life extinct when I succumbed to the disease from natural causes. PADDY DIGNAM: Bloom, I am Paddy Dignam's spirit. List, list, O list! BLOOM: The voice is the voice of Esau. FIRST WATCH: It is not in the penny catechism. PADDY DIGNAM: By metempsychosis. Spooks.
Maunder on for hours, talking to himself or the other fellow blowing the bellows. Pwee! A wee little wind piped eeee. In Bloom's little wee. Was he? Mr Dedalus said, returning with fetched pipe. I was with him this morning at poor little Paddy Dignam's... Ay, the Lord have mercy on him. By the bye there's a tuningfork in there on the... Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. The wife has a fine voice. Or had. What?
Good job I let off there behind the wall coming out of Dignam's. Cider that was. Otherwise I couldn't have. Makes you want to sing after. Lacaus esant taratara. Suppose I spoke to her. What about? Bad plan however if you don't know how to end the conversation. Ask them a question they ask you another. Good idea if you're stuck. Gain time. But then you're in a cart.
Sardines on the shelves. Almost taste them by looking. Sandwich? Ham and his descendants musterred and bred there. Potted meats. What is home without Plumtree's potted meat? Incomplete. What a stupid ad! Under the obituary notices they stuck it. All up a plumtree. Dignam's potted meat. Cannibals would with lemon and rice. White missionary too salty. Like pickled pork.
Entertainment for man and beast. And says Joe: Could you make a hole in another pint? Could a swim duck? says I. Same again, Terry, says Joe. Are you sure you won't have anything in the way of liquid refreshment? says he. Thank you, no, says Bloom. As a matter of fact I just wanted to meet Martin Cunningham, don't you see, about this insurance of poor Dignam's. Martin asked me to go to the house.
Lord! Did me good all the same. Off colour after Kiernan's, Dignam's. For this relief much thanks. In Hamlet, that is. Lord! It was all things combined. Excitement. When she leaned back, felt an ache at the butt of my tongue. Your head it simply swirls. He's right. Might have made a worse fool of myself however. Instead of talking about nothing. Then I will tell you all.
Then a word: "If you wuz slipper to-morrow and it so came about that Dignam's Minkie gets done, wall, it means another cigar." "Faix, an' if I wuz slipper I could load the dice so Minkie would flyer score a p'int, but her runnin' mate would have the same bad luck." "That so?" The diamond man looked interested. "All right fix it so; it means two cigars."
Plot, one hundred and one. PADDY DIGNAM: Pray for the repose of his soul. After him toddles an obese grandfather rat on fungus turtle paws under a grey carapace. Dignam's voice, muffled, is heard baying under ground: Dignam's dead and gone below. Follow me up to Carlow. Two discs on the columns wobble, eyes of nought. All recedes. Bloom plodges forward again through the sump.
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