icechairman of the Richmond asylum and by the by Guinness's preference
shares are at sixteen three quaffers. Curse me for a fool that didn't
buy that lot Craig and Gardner told me about. Just my infernal luck,
curse it. And that Goddamned outsider _Throwaway_ at twenty to one.
_(He quenches his cigar angrily on Bloom's ear)_ Where's that Goddamned
cursed ashtray?

BLOOM: _(Goaded, buttocksmothered)_ O! O! Monsters! Cruel one!

BELLO: Ask for that every ten minutes. Beg. Pray for it as you never
prayed before. _(He thrusts out a figged fist and foul cigar)_ Here,
kiss that. Both. Kiss. _(He throws a leg astride and, pressing with
horseman's knees, calls in a hard voice)_ Gee up! A cockhorse to Banbury
cross. I'll ride him for the Eclipse stakes. _(He bends sideways and
squeezes his mount's testicles roughly, shouting)_ Ho! Off we pop! I'll
nurse you in proper fashion. _(He horserides cockhorse, leaping in the
saddle)_ The lady goes a pace a pace and the coachman goes a trot a trot
and the gentleman goes a gallop a gallop a gallop a gallop.

FLORRY: _(Pulls at Bello)_ Let me on him now. You had enough. I asked
before you.

ZOE: _(Pulling at florry)_ Me. Me. Are you not finished with him yet,
suckeress?

BLOOM: _(Stifling)_ Can't.

BELLO: Well, I'm not. Wait. _(He holds in his breath)_ Curse it. Here.
This bung's about burst. _(He uncorks himself behind: then, contorting
his features, farts loudly)_ Take that! _(He recorks himself)_ Yes, by
Jingo, sixteen three quarters.

BLOOM: _(A sweat breaking out over him)_ Not man. _(He sniffs)_ Woman.

BELLO: _(Stands up)_ No more blow hot and cold. What you longed for has
come to pass. Henceforth you are unmanned and mine in earnest, a thing
under the yoke. Now for your punishment frock. You will shed your male
garments, you understand, Ruby Cohen? and don the shot silk luxuriously
rustling over head and shoulders. And quickly too!

BLOOM: _(Shrinks)_ Silk, mistress said! O crinkly! scrapy! Must I
tiptouch it with my nails?

BELLO: _(Points to his whores)_ As they are now so will you be, wigged,
singed, perfumesprayed, ricepowdered, with smoothshaven armpits. Tape
measurements will be taken next your skin. You will be laced with cruel
force into vicelike corsets of soft dove coutille with whalebone busk to
the diamondtrimmed pelvis, the absolute outside edge, while your figure,
plumper than when at large, will be restrained in nettight frocks,
pretty two ounce petticoat