from Ulysses

bride

Bride Sreet, from Book 12

They came down the steps from Leahy's terraceprudently, Frauenzimmer: and down the shelving shore flabbily their splayed feet sinking in the silted sand. Like me, like Algy, coming down to our mighty mother. Number one swung lourdily her midwife's bag, the other's gamp poked in the beach. From the liberties, out for the day. Mrs Florence MacCabe, relict of the late Patk MacCabe, deeply lamented, of Bride Street. One of her sisterhood lugged me squealing into life. Creation from nothing. What has she in the bag? A misbirth with a trailing navelcord, hushed in ruddy wool. The cords of all link back, strandentwining cable of all flesh. That is why mystic monks. Will you be as gods? Gaze in your omphalos. Hello. Kinch here. Put me on to Edenville. Aleph, alpha: nought, nought, one.

 

Bride Street from Book 3

And off with him and out trying to walk straight.Boosed at five o'clock. Night he was near being laggedonly Paddy Leonard knew the bobby, 14 A. Blind to the world up in a shebeen in Bride Streetafter closing time, fornicating with two shawls and a bully on guard,drinking porter out of teacups. And calling himself a Frenchy for the shawls, Joseph Manuo,and talking against the catholic religion and he serving mass in Adam and Eve's when he was young with his eyes shutwho wrote the new testament and the old testament and hugging and snugging.And the two shawls killed with the laughing, picking his pockets the bloody fooland he spilling the porter all over the bed and the two shawls screechinglaughing at one another. How is your testament? Have you got an old testament?Only Paddy was passing there, I tell you what. Then see him of a Sunday with his little concubine of a wife,and she wagging her tail up the aisle of the chapel,with her patent boots on her, no less,<br and her violets, nice as pie, doing the little lady. Jack Mooney's sister. And the old prostitute of a mother procuring rooms to street couples.Gob, Jack made him toe the line. Told him if he didn't patch up the pot,Jesus, he'd kick the shite out of him.

 

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