"Mr Bloom, availing himself of the right of free speech, he having just a bowing acquaintance with the language in dispute, though, to be sure, rather in a quandary over voglio, remarked to his protegé in an audible tone of voice à propos of the battle royal in the street which was still raging fast and furious:
—A beautiful language. I mean for singing purposes. Why do you not write your poetry in that language? Bella Poetria! It is so melodious and full. Belladonna. Voglio." (U16.339)
"Stephen, who was trying his dead best to yawn if he could, suffering from lassitude generally, replied:
— To fill the ear of a cow elephant. They were haggling over money.
— Is that so? Mr Bloom asked. Of course, he subjoined pensively, at the inward reflection of there being more languages to start with than were absolutely necessary, it may be only the southern glamour that surrounds it." (U16.348)
"The keeper of the shelter in the middle of this tête-à-tête put a boiling swimming cup of a choice concoction labelled coffee on the table and a rather antediluvian specimen of a bun, or so it seemed, after which he beat a retreat to his counter, Mr Bloom determining to have a good square look at him later on so as not to appear to... for which reason he encouraged Stephen to proceed with his eyes while he did the honours by surreptitiously pushing the cup of what was temporarily supposed to be called coffee gradually nearer him." (U16.354)
"— Sounds are impostures, Stephen said after a pause of some little time, like names. Cicero, Podmore. Napoleon, Mr Goodbody. Jesus, Mr Doyle. Shakespeares were as common as Murphies. What's in a name?
— Yes, to be sure, Mr Bloom unaffectedly concurred. Of course. Our name was changed too, he added, pushing the socalled roll across.
The redbearded sailor who had his weather eye on the newcomers boarded Stephen, whom he had singled out for attention in particular, squarely by asking:" (U16.362)
"— And what might your name be?
Just in the nick of time Mr Bloom touched his companion's boot but Stephen, apparently disregarding the warm pressure from an unexpected quarter, answered:
— Dedalus." (U16.370)
"The sailor stared at him heavily from a pair of drowsy baggy eyes, rather bunged up from excessive use of boose, preferably good old Hollands and water.
— You know Simon Dedalus? he asked at length.
— I've heard of him, Stephen said." (U16.375)
"Mr Bloom was all at sea for a moment, seeing the others evidently eavesdropping too.
— He's Irish, the seaman bold affirmed, staring still in much the same way and nodding. All Irish.
— All too Irish, Stephen rejoined.
As for Mr Bloom he could neither make head or tail of the whole business and he was just asking himself what possible connection when the sailor of his own accord turned to the other occupants of the shelter with the remark:" (U16.380)
"— I seen him shoot two eggs off two bottles at fifty yards over his shoulder.
The lefthand dead shot.
Though he was slightly hampered by an occasional stammer and his gestures being also clumsy as it was still he did his best to explain.
— Bottles out there, say. Fifty yards measured. Eggs on the bottles. Cocks his gun over his shoulder. Aims." (U16.389)
"He turned his body half round, shut up his right eye completely, then he screwed his features up some way sideways and glared out into the night with an unprepossessing cast of countenance.
- Pom! he then shouted once.
The entire audience waited, anticipating an additional detonation, there being still a further egg." (U16.395)
"-Pom! he shouted twice.
Egg two evidently demolished, he nodded and winked, adding bloodthirstily:" (U16.401)
"- Buffalo Bill shoots to kill,
Never missed nor he never will.
A silence ensued till Mr Bloom for agreeableness' sake just felt like asking him whether it was for a marksmanship competition like the Bisley." (U16.404)
"A silence ensued till Mr Bloom for agreeableness' sake just felt like asking him whether it was for a marksmanship competition like the Bisley." (U16.406)
"— Beg pardon, the sailor said.
— Long ago? Mr Bloom pursued without flinching a hairsbreadth. " (U16.408)
"- Curious coincidence, Mr Bloom confided to Stephen unobtrusively.
- Murphy's my name, the sailor continued, D.B. Murphy, of Carrigaloe. Know where that is?
- Queenstown Harbour, Stephen replied." (U16.414)
"- That's right, the sailor said. Fort Camden and Fort Carlisle. That's where I hails from. I belongs there. That's where I hails from. My little woman's down there. She's waiting for me, I know. For England," (U16.418)"
"home and beauty. She's my own true wife I haven't seen for seven years now, sailing about." (U16.420)