lotion whitewax, orangeflower water. Shop closes early on Thursday. But the first thing in the morning. (He pats divers pockets) This moving kidney. Ah! (He points to the south, then to the east. A cake of new clean lemon soap arises, diffusing light and perfume.) THE SOAP: We're a capital couple are Bloom and I. He brightens the earth. I polish the sky. (The freckled face of Sweny, the druggist, appears in the disc of the soapsun.) SWENY: Three and a penny, please. BLOOM: Yes. For my wife. Mrs Marion. Special recipe. MARION: (Softly) Poldy! BLOOM: Yes, ma'am? MARION: ti trema un poco il cuore? (In disdain she saunters away, plump as a pampered pouter pigeon, humming the duet from Don Giovanni.) BLOOM: Are you sure about that voglio? I mean the pronunciati... (He follows, followed by the sniffing terrier. The elderly bawd seizes his sleeve, the bristles of her chinmole glittering.) THE BAWD: Ten shillings a maidenhead. Fresh thing was never touched. Fifteen. There's no-one in it only her old father that's dead drunk. (She points. In the gap of her dark den furtive, rainbedraggled, Bridie Kelly stands.) BRIDIE: Hatch street. Any good in your mind? (With a squeak she flaps her bat shawl and runs. A burly rough pursues with booted strides. He stumbles on the steps, recovers, plunges into gloom. Weak squeaks of laughter are heard, weaker.) THE BAWD: (Her wolfeyes shining) He's getting his pleasure. You won't get a virgin in the flash houses. Ten shillings. Don't be all night before the polis in plain clothes sees us. Sixtyseven is a bitch. (Leering, Gerty Macdowell limps forward. She draws from behind, ogling, and shows coyly her bloodied clout.) GERTY: With all my worldly goods I thee and thou. (She murmurs) You did that. I hate you. BLOOM: I? When? You're dreaming. I never saw you. THE BAWD: Leave the gentleman alone, you cheat. Writing the gentleman false letters. Streetwalking and soliciting. Better for your mother take the strap to you at the bedpost, hussy like you. GERTY: (To Bloom) When you saw all the secrets of my bottom drawer. (She paws his sleeve, slobbering) Dirty married man! I