Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:
     - Introibo ad altare Dei.
     Halted, he peered down the dark winding stairs and called out coarsely:
     - Come up, Kinch! Come up, you fearful Jesuit!
     Solemnly he came forward and mounted the round gunrest. He faced about and blessed gravely thrice the tower, the surrounding land and the awaking mountains. Then, catching sight of Stephen Dedalus, he bent towards him and made rapid crosses in the air, gurgling in his throat and shaking his head. Stephen Dedalus, displeased and sleepy, leaned his arms on the top of the staircase and looked coldly at the shaking gurgling face that blessed him, equine in its length, and at the light untonsured hair, grained and hued like pale oak.
     Buck Mulligan peeped an instant under the mirror and then covered the bowl smartly.
     - Back to barracks, he said sternly.

Statelig, plump kom Buck Mulligan fra øverste trappetrin bærende en skål sæbeskum med korslagt spejl og ragekniv. Gul slåbrok, ugjordet, varligt båret bag ham på den milde morgenluft. Han holdt skålen højt og messede:
     [SPAN]- Introibo ad altare Dei. [/SPAN]
     Standset spejdede han ned ad den mørke spindeltrappe og råbte drøjt:
     - Kom op, Kinch! Kom op, din ramme jesuit!
     Højtideligt skred han frem og trådte op på den runde kanonbrisk. Han vendte sig og velsignede alvorsfuldt tre gange tårnet, det omliggende land og de vågnende bjerge. Da han fik øje på Stephen Dedalus bøjede han sig mod ham og slog hastige kors i luften, klukkede i halsen og rystede på hovedet. Stephen Dedalus støttede, misfornøjet og søvnig, armene mod trappens øverste og så koldt på det rystende klukkende hoved der velsignede ham, hesteligt i sin længde, og på det lette utonsurerede hår, året og farvet som lys eg.
     Buck Mulligan spejdede et øjeblik under spejlet og dækkede så rask skålen.
     -Tilbage til kasernen! sagde han strengt.

     Mr Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. He liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart, liverslices fried with crustcrumbs, fried hencods’ roes. Most of all he liked grilled mutton kidneys which gave to his palate a fine tang of faintly scented urine.
Kidneys were in his mind as he moved about the kitchen softly, righting her breakfast things on the humpy tray. Gelid light and air were in the kitchen but out of doors gentle summer morning everywhere. Made him feel a bit peckish.
     The coals were reddening.
     Another slice of bread and butter: three, four: right. She didn’t like her plate full. Right. He turned from the tray, lifted the kettle off the hob and set it sideways on the fire. It sat there, dull and squat, its spout stuck out. Cup of tea soon. Good. Mouth dry. The cat walked stiffly round a leg of the table with tail on high.
     - Mkgnao!

Mr Leopold Bloom spiste med velbehag de indre organer af kreaturer og fjerkræ. Han kunne godt lide tyk kråsesuppe, nødagtig kro, et fyldt stegt hjerte, leverskiver stegt med skorpekrummer, stegt huntorskerogn. Allermest holdt han af grillerede fårenyrer som gav hans gane en fin bismag af let duftende urin.
     Nyrer var i hans tanker mens han sagte bevægede sig rundt i køkkenet og ordnede hendes morgenmadsting på den bulende bakke. Iskoldt lys og iskold luft var i køkkenet men udenfor blid sommermorgen alle vegne. Fik ham til at føle sig lidt sulten.
     Kullene var så småt ved at være røde.
     Endnu en skive brød med smør: tre, fire: sådan. Hun brød sig ikke om en fuld tallerken. Sådan. Han vendte sig bort fra bakken, løftede kedlen af sidehylden og satte den sidelæns på ilden. Der sad den, træg og tung, med tuden stukket ud. Kop te snart. Godt. Tør i munden.
     Katten gik stift rundt om et bordben med halen i det høje.
     -Mkgnao!

     Preparatory to anything else Mr Bloom brushed off the greater bulk of the shavings and handed Stephen the hat and ashplant and bucked him up generally in orthodox Samaritan fashion which he very badly needed. His (Stephen’s) mind was not exactly what you would call wandering but a bit unsteady and on his expressed desire for some beverage to drink Mr Bloom in view of the hour it was and there being no pump of Vartry water available for their ablutions let alone drinking purposes hit upon an expedient by suggesting, off the reel, the propriety of the cabman’s shelter, as it was called, hardly a stonesthrow away near Butt bridge where they might hit upon some drinkables in the shape of a milk and soda or a mineral.

Forud for noget andet børstede Mr Bloom hovedparten af høvlspånerne af og rakte Stephen hat og askestok og strammede generelt op på ham på ortodoks samaritansk vis hvad han trængte alvorligt til. Hans (Stephens) tanker var ikke ligefrem hvad man ville kalde usammenhæn gende men en smule ustadige og efter hans udtrykkelige ønske om at a noget drikkeligt fandt Mr Bloom, i betragtning af hvad klokken var den kendsgerning at der ikke var en pumpe med Vartry-vand til aftvætning endsige drikkebrug, på en udvej ved på stående fod at foreslå kuskenes sømmelige kaffestue, som den kaldtes, knap et stenkast borte ved Butt Bridge hvor de eventuelt kunne finde nogle drikkevarer i form af en mælk og soda eller en mineralvand.

     Yes because he never did a thing like that before as ask to get his breakfast in bed with a couple of eggs since the City Arms hotel when he used to be pretending to be laid up with a sick voice doing his highness to make himself interesting for that old faggot Mrs Riordan that he thought he had a great leg of and she never left us a farthing all for masses for herself and her soul greatest miser ever was actually afraid to lay out 4d for her methylated spirit telling me all her ailments she had too much old chat in her about politics and earthquakes and the end of the world let us have a bit of fun first God help the world if all the women were her sort down on bathingsuits and lownecks of course nobody wanted her to wear them I suppose she was pious because no man would look at her twice I hope Ill never be like her a wonder she didnt want us to cover our faces but she was a welleducated woman certainly and her gabby talk about Mr Riordan here and Mr Riordan there...

To take photo

...the Greeks and the jews and the Arabs and the devil knows who else from all the ends of Europe and Duke street and the fowl market all clucking outside Larby Sharons and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with the old windows of the posadas glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about serene with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and the pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.

Trieste-Zurich-Paris
1914-1921

…grækerne og jøderne og araberne og pokker ved hvem ellers fra alle hjørner af Europa og Duke Street og fjerkræmarkedet alle kaglende uden for Larby Sharons og de stakkels æsler der gled halvsovende af sted og de utyde- lige mænd i kapperne der sov i skyggen på trappen og de store hjul på oksekærrerne og det gamle slot tusinder af år gammelt ja og de der flotte maurere helt i hvidt og turbaner ligesom konger der bad en sætte sig i deres lille smule forretning og Ronda med de gamle vinduer i po- sadaerne 2 skimtende øjne et gitterværk skjult at hendes elsker skal kysse jernet og vinhandelerne halvt åbne om aftenen og kastagnet- terne og den nat vi kom for sent til båden i Algeciras vagtmanden der gik rundt i ophøjet ro med sin lampe og O det forfærdelige dybtnede vandfald O og havet havet karmoisin sommetider som ild og de pragt fulde solnedgange og figentræerne i Alameda haven ja og alle de sære små gader og de lyserøde og blå og gule huse og rosenhaverne og jasminer og pelargonier og kaktusser og Gibraltar som pige hvor jeg var en Bjergblomst ja da jeg stak rosen i mit hår ligesom de andalusiske piger gjorde eller skal jeg bære en rød ja og hvordan han kyssede mig under den Mauriske mur og jeg tænkte nå ja ham så godt som enhver anden og så bad jeg ham med øjnene spørge igen ja og så bad han mig ville jeg ja sige ja min bjergblomst og først lagde jeg armene om ham ja og trak ham ned til mig så han kunne mærke mine bryster duftende ja og hans hjerte hamrede helt vanvittigt og ja sagde jeg ja jeg vil Ja.
[SPA]Trieste-Zürich-Paris[/SPA]
1914-1921