Break my spirit, will he? O merde alors! (he cries, his vulture talons sharpened) Holà! Hillyho!
(Simon Dedalus' voice hilloes in answer, somewhat sleepy but ready.)
That's all right. (he swoops uncertainly through the air, wheeling, uttering cries of heartening, on strong ponderous buzzard wings) Ho, boy! Are you going to win? Hoop! Pschatt! Stable with those halfcastes. Wouldn't let them within the bawl of an ass. Head up! Keep our flag flying! An eagle gules volant in a field argent displayed. Ulster king at arms! Haihoop! (he makes the beagle's call, giving tongue) Bulbul! Burblblburblbl! Hai, boy!"
Card of the races. Racing card!
Ten to one the field!
Tommy on the clay here! Tommy on the clay!
Ten to one bar one! Ten to one bar one!
Try your luck on Spinning Jenny!
Ten to one bar one!
Sell the monkey, boys! Sell the monkey!
I'll give ten to one!
Ten to one bar one!" (U15.3962)
THE ORANGE LODGES
(jeering) Get down and push, mister. Last lap! You'll be home the night!
(bolt upright, his nailscraped face plastered with postagestamps, brandishes his hockeystick, his blue eyes flashing in the prism of the chandelier as his mount lopes by at schooling gallop) Per vias rectas!" (U15.3980)
THE GREEN LODGES
Soft day, sir John! Soft day, your honour!
(Private Carr, Private Compton and Cissy Caffrey pass beneath the windows, singing in discord.)"
Hark! Our friend noise in the street!
(Holds up her hand.) Stop!
PRIVATE CARR, PRIVATE COMPTON AND CISSY CAFFREY
Yet I've a sort of a
Yorkshire relish for... "
That's me. (She claps her hands.) Dance! Dance! (She runs to the pianola.) Who has twopence?
(Handing her coins.) Here.
(Cracking his fingers impatiently.) Quick! Quick! Where's my augur's rod? (He runs to the piano and takes his ashplant, beating his foot in tripudium.)"