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From the window of the D.B.C. I gaily gaze down on the viceregal equipage over the shoulders of eager guests.
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From a long face, a beard and a gaze hang on a chessboard.
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@HAINESINDUBLIN -- Ten years. He is going to write something in ten years.
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I slit a steaming scone in two and plaster butter over its smoking pith. I bite off a soft piece hungrily.
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@HAINESINDUBLIN -- The joy of creation...
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@HAINESINDUBLIN -- The note of Swinburne, of all poets, the white death and the ruddy birth. That is his tragedy. He can never be a poet.
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@HAINESINDUBLIN -- They drove his wits astray, by visions of hell. He will never capture the Attic note.
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@HAINESINDUBLIN -- You should see him, when his body loses its balance. Wandering Ængus I call him.
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@HAINESINDUBLIN -- We call it D.B.C. because they have damn bad cakes. O, but you missed Dedalus on Hamlet.
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I tell her to bring us two, and some scones and butter and some cakes as well.
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@HAINESINDUBLIN -- Yes. That's John Howard, his brother, our city marshal.
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We choose a small table near the window, opposite a longfaced man whose beard and gaze hang intently down on a chessboard.
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As we tread across the thick carpet, I whisper behind my Panama @HAINESINDUBLIN -- Parnell's brother. There in the corner.
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@STEPHENDEDALUS O, my name for you is the best: Kinch, the knifeblade.
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@STEPHENDEDALUS Because he comes from Oxford. You know, Dedalus, you have the real Oxford manner. He can't make you out.
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@STEPHENDEDALUS He thinks you're not a gentleman. God, these bloody English! Bursting with money and indigestion.
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I show a shaven cheek over my right shoulder. @STEPHENDEDALUS-- God, isn't he dreadful? A ponderous Saxon.
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@STEPHENDEDALUS -- Yes, my love?
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I lay the brush aside &, laughing with delight, cry: --Will he come? The jejune jesuit! Ceasing, I begin to shave with care.
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@STEPHENDEDALUS Tripping and sunny like the buck himself. We must go to Athens. Will you come if I can get the aunt to fork out 20 quid?
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