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.)"
What's wrong here?
We were with this lady. And he insulted us. And assaulted my chum."
(takes out his notebook) What's his name?
(peering over the crowd) I just see a car there. If you give me a hand a second, sergeant....
Name and address."
(To the watch, with drawling eye.) That's all right. I know him. Won a bit on the races. Gold cup. Throwaway. (He laughs.) Twenty to one. Do you follow me?
(Turns to the crowd.) Here, what are you all gaping at? Move on out of that.
(The crowd disperses slowly, muttering, down the lane.)"
(Genially.) Ah, sure we were too.
(winking) Boys will be boys. I've a car round there.
All right, Mr Kelleher. Good night.
I'll see to that."
O, I understand, sir.
That's all right, sir.
It was only in case of corporal injuries I'd have to report it at the station.
(Nods rapidly.) Naturally. Quite right. Only your bounden duty."
(Laughs, pointing his thumb over his right shoulder to the car brought up against the scaffolding.) Two commercials that were standing fizz in Jammet's. Like princes, faith. One of them lost two quid on the race. Drowning his grief. And were on for a go with the jolly girls. So I landed them up on Behan's car and down to nighttown."
I was just going home by Gardiner street when I happened to ...
(laughs) Sure they wanted me to join in with the mots. No, by God, says I. Not for old stagers like myself and yourself. (he laughs again and leers with lacklustre eye) Thanks be to God we have it in the house, what, eh, do you follow me? Hah, hah, hah!"
Sure it was Behan, our jarvey there, that told me after we left the two commercials in Mrs Cohen's and I told him to pull up and got off to see. (He laughs.) Sober hearsedrivers a specialty. Will I give him a lift home? Where does he hang out? Somewhere in Cabra, what?"
No, in Sandycove, I believe, from what he let drop.
(Stephen, prone, breathes to the stars. Corny Kelleher, asquint, drawls at the horse. Bloom, in gloom, looms down.)
(Scratches his nape.) Sandycove! (He bends down and calls to Stephen.) Eh! (He calls again.) Eh! He's covered with shavings anyhow. Take care they didn't lift anything off him."
No, no, no. I have his money and his hat here and stick.
Ah, well, he'll get over it. No bones broken. Well, I'll shove along. (he laughs) I've a rendezvous in the morning. Burying the dead. Safe home!
Good night. I'll just wait and take him along in a few ...
(Corny Kelleher returns to the outside car and mounts it. The horseharness jingles.)"
(from the car, standing) Night.
(The jarvey chucks the reins and raises his whip encouragingly.The car and horse back slowly, awkwardly, and turn. Corny Kelleher on the sideseat sways his head to and fro in sign of mirth at Bloom's plight. The jarvey joins in the mute pantomimic merriment nodding from the farther seat. Bloom shakes his head in mute mirthful reply.