Ulysses HTML version

Chapter 6
Martin Cunningham, first, poked his silkhatted head into the creaking carriage and,
entering deftly, seated himself. Mr Power stepped in after him, curving his height with
--Come on, Simon.
--After you, Mr Bloom said.
Mr Dedalus covered himself quickly and got in, saying:
Yes, yes.
--Are we all here now? Martin Cunningham asked. Come along, Bloom.
Mr Bloom entered and sat in the vacant place. He pulled the door to after him and
slammed it twice till it shut tight. He passed an arm through the armstrap and looked
seriously from the open carriagewindow at the lowered blinds of the avenue. One
dragged aside: an old woman peeping. Nose whiteflattened against the pane. Thanking
her stars she was passed over. Extraordinary the interest they take in a corpse. Glad to see
us go we give them such trouble coming. Job seems to suit them. Huggermugger in
corners. Slop about in slipperslappers for fear he'd wake. Then getting it ready. Laying it
out. Molly and Mrs Fleming making the bed. Pull it more to your side. Our windingsheet.
Never know who will touch you dead. Wash and shampoo. I believe they clip the nails
and the hair. Keep a bit in an envelope. Grows all the same after. Unclean job.
All waited. Nothing was said. Stowing in the wreaths probably. I am sitting on something
hard. Ah, that soap: in my hip pocket. Better shift it out of that. Wait for an opportunity.
All waited. Then wheels were heard from in front, turning: then nearer: then horses'
hoofs. A jolt. Their carriage began to move, creaking and swaying. Other hoofs and
creaking wheels started behind. The blinds of the avenue passed and number nine with its
craped knocker, door ajar. At walking pace.
They waited still, their knees jogging, till they had turned and were passing along the
tramtracks. Tritonville road. Quicker. The wheels rattled rolling over the cobbled
causeway and the crazy glasses shook rattling in the doorframes.
--What way is he taking us? Mr Power asked through both windows.
--Irishtown, Martin Cunningham said. Ringsend. Brunswick street.
Mr Dedalus nodded, looking out.