Улисс

           —Hewasravingallnightaboutablackpanther,Stephensaid.Whereishisguncase?

           —Awofullunatic!Mulligansaid.Wereyouinafunk?

           —Iwas,Stephensaidwithenergyandgrowingfear.OuthereinthedarkwithamanIdon’tknowravingandmoaningtohimselfaboutshootingablackpanther.Yousavedmenfromdrowning.I’mnotahero,however.IfhestaysonhereIamoff.

           BuckMulliganfrownedatthelatheronhisrazorblade.Hehoppeddownfromhisperchandbegantosearchhistrouserpocketshastily.

           —Scutter!hecriedthickly.

           Hecameovertothegunrestand,thrustingahandintoStephen’supperpocket,said:

           —Lendusaloanofyournoseragtowipemyrazor.

           Stephensufferedhimtopulloutandholduponshowbyitscorneradirtycrumpledhandkerchief.BuckMulliganwipedtherazorbladeneatly.Then,gazingoverthehandkerchief,hesaid:

           —Thebard’snoserag!AnewartcolourforourIrishpoets:snotgreen.Youcanalmosttasteit,can’tyou?

           HemountedtotheparapetagainandgazedoutoverDublinbay,hisfairoakpalehairstirringslightly.

           —God!hesaidquietly.Isn’ttheseawhatAlgycallsit:agreatsweetmother?Thesnotgreensea.Thescrotumtighteningsea.Epioinopaponton.Ah,Dedalus,theGreeks!Imustteachyou.Youmustreadthemintheoriginal.Thalatta!Thalatta!Sheisourgreatsweetmother.Comeandlook.

           Stephenstoodupandwentovertotheparapet.LeaningonithelookeddownonthewaterandonthemailboatclearingtheharbourmouthofKingstown.

           —Ourmightymother!BuckMulligansaid.