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notes: [Th] [G&S] [Dent] [∞] [wbks] [rw] [images] [hyper]
Delaney: [0] Useen: [] [cp] maps: [other] [*]
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(In youth's smart blue Oxford suit with white vestslips, narrowshouldered, in brown Alpine hat, wearing gent's sterling silver Waterbury keyless watch and double curb Albert with seal attached, one side of him coated with stiffening mud.) Harriers, father. Only that once.
(this costume sounds like what he wished he could afford then)
before c1850 all watches needed a separate key for winding and setting ('keyless' UK = 'stem winder' US)
Once! Mud head to foot. Cut your hand open. Lockjaw. They make you kaputt, Leopoldleben. You watch them chaps.
age 16 c1882 "(Points to his hand.) That weal there is an accident. Fell and cut it twentytwo years ago. I was sixteen." p525
(Weakly.) They challenged me to a sprint. It was muddy. I slipped.
(With contempt.) Goim nachez! Nice spectacles for your poor mother!
Mamma!
(In pantomime dame's stringed mobcap, widow Twankey's crinoline and bustle, blouse with muttonleg sleeves buttoned behind, grey mittens and cameo brooch, her plaited hair in a crispine net, appears over the staircase banisters, a slanted candlestick in her hand, and cries out in shrill alarm.) O blessed Redeemer, what have they done to him! My smelling salts! (She hauls up a reef of skirt and ransacks the pouch of her striped blay petticoat. A phial, an Agnus Dei, a shrivelled potato and a celluloid doll fall out.) Sacred Heart of Mary, where were you at all, at all?
(by far the most detailed view of Bloom's mother seems more stereotyped than remembered)
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| Widow Twankey |
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| crespine net |
(Bloom, mumbling, his eyes downcast, begins to bestow his parcels in his filled pockets but desists, muttering.)
(Sharply.) Poldy!
Who? (He ducks and wards off a blow clumsily.) At your service.
(He looks up. Beside her mirage of datepalms a handsome woman in Turkish costume stands before him. Opulent curves fill out her scarlet
mysteries:
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