CIRCE
"ZOE
(Murmuring singsong with the music, her odalisk lips lusciously smeared with salve of swinefat and rosewater.) Schorach ani wenowach, benoith Hierushaloim.
BLOOM
(Fascinated.) I thought you were of good stock by your accent.
ZOE
And you know what thought did?
(She bites his ear gently with little goldstopped teeth, sending on him a cloying breath of stale garlic. The roses draw apart, disclose a sepulchre of the gold of kings and their mouldering bones.)"
(U15.1331)
