Page:Ulysses, 1922.djvu/535

532

Dreams go by contraries.

(Extending his arms.) It was here. Street of harlots. In Serpentine Avenue Beelzebub showed me her, a fubsy widow. Where’s the red carpet spread?

(Approaching Stephen.) Look…

No, I flew. My foes beneath me. And ever shall be. World without end. (He cries.) Pater! Free!

I say, look…

Break my spirit, will he? O merde alors! (He cries, his vulture talons sharpened.) Hola! Hillyho!

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 towin? 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! hai hoop! (He makes the beagle’s call giving tongue.) Bulbul! Burblblbrurblbl! Hai, boy!

(The fronds and spaces of the wallpaper file rapidly across country. A stout fox drawn from covert, brush pointed, having buried his grandmother, runs swift, for the open brighteyedruns swift for the open, brighteyed [sic], seeking badger earth, under the leaves. The pack of staghounds follows, nose to the ground, sniffing their quarry, beaglebaying, burblbrbling to be blooded. Ward Union huntsmen and huntswomen live with them, hot for a kill. From Six Mile Point, Flathouse, Nine Mile Stone follow the footpeople with knotty sticks, salmongaffs, lassos, flockmasters with stockwhips,