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Part Two. The Odyssey – Chapter two: The Lotus Eaters (第二章:食莲者)

探索《尤利西斯》第2章,包含英文原文、简体中文翻译、详细的雅思词汇与解释,以及英文原版音频。聆听并提升你的阅读技能。

英文原文
翻译
雅思词汇 (ZH-CN)

布卢姆先生沿着约翰·罗杰森爵士码头,在货车旁庄重地走着,经过风车巷、利斯克的亚麻籽榨油厂、邮政电报局。本来也可以给那个地址。又经过水手之家。他从码头清晨的喧嚣中转身,穿过石灰街。在布雷迪的小屋旁,一个替人剥皮的男孩懒洋洋地靠着,提着满满一桶内脏,叼着嚼过的烟屁股。一个额头上有湿疹疤痕的小女孩,无精打采地握着一个破木箍,盯着他。告诉他吸烟长不高。随他去吧!他的日子也不是那么好过。在酒馆外面等着带爸爸回家。回家找妈妈,爸爸。闲散时光:里面人不会多。他跨过汤森街,经过伯特利教会那阴沉的面孔。伊勒,是的:房子:阿莱夫,贝斯。又经过尼科尔斯殡仪馆。十一点钟。时间足够。料想科尼·凯莱赫替奥尼尔揽了这活儿。闭着眼睛唱歌。科尼。在公园里遇见过她一次。在黑暗中。真有趣。警察的眼线。她随后告诉了我她的姓名和地址,用我那嘟嘟噜噜嘟嘟噜噜的调子。哦,他肯定揽下了。便宜地把他埋了,叫什么来着。用我那嘟嘟噜噜,嘟嘟噜噜,嘟嘟噜噜,嘟嘟噜噜。

🔊
soberly /ˈsəʊbəli/
adv. 冷静地;审慎地
🔊
linseed /ˈlɪnsiːd/
n. 亚麻籽
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crusher /ˈkrʌʃə/
n. 破碎机;压碎机
🔊
telegraph /ˈtelɪɡrɑːf/
n. 电报;电报机
🔊
quayside /ˈkiːsaɪd/
n. 码头边;码头区
🔊
lolled /lɒld/
v. 懒洋洋地倚靠;闲荡
🔊
offal /ˈɒfəl/
n. 内脏;下水
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eczema /ˈeksɪmə/
n. 湿疹
🔊
listlessly /ˈlɪstləsli/
adv. 无精打采地;倦怠地
🔊
battered /ˈbætəd/
adj. 破旧的;磨损的
🔊
undertaker /ˈʌndəteɪkə/
n. 殡仪馆人员;承办丧葬者
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tout /taʊt/
n. 兜售者;侦察员

在韦斯特兰巷,他在贝尔法斯特和东方茶叶公司的橱窗前停下,阅读铅箔包装上的说明:精选混合,最佳品质,家庭用茶。相当暖和。茶。得从汤姆·克南那儿弄些。不过不能在葬礼上问他。他眼睛漫不经心地看着,一边悄悄脱下帽子,吸着发油的气味,右手缓慢而优雅地拂过额头和头发。非常暖和的早晨。垂下的眼睑下,他的目光找到了高级帽子里面皮箍上的小蝴蝶结。就在那儿。他的右手放下来,伸进帽碗里。手指迅速摸到皮箍后面的名片,把它转移到背心口袋里。

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halted /ˈhɔːltɪd/
v. 停止;停下
🔊
blandly /ˈblændli/
adv. 温和地;平淡地
🔊
inhaling /ɪnˈheɪlɪŋ/
v. 吸入(气体、烟雾等)
🔊
grace /ɡreɪs/
n. 优雅;优美
🔊
lids /lɪdz/
n. 眼睑;盖子
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headband /ˈhedbænd/
n. 头带;发带
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transferred /trænsˈfɜːd/
v. 转移;调动
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waistcoat /ˈweɪstkəʊt/
n. 马甲;背心

真暖和。他的右手再次更缓慢地拂过额头和头发。然后他重新戴上帽子,松了口气:又读了一遍:精选混合,用最好的锡兰品牌制成。遥远的东方。一定是个可爱的地方:世界花园,宽大慵懒的叶子可以漂浮其上,仙人掌,鲜花盛开的草地,他们称之为蛇形藤蔓。不知道是不是那样。那些锡兰人在阳光下悠闲度日,终日无所事事。一年睡六个月。热得没力气吵架。气候的影响。昏睡。懒惰之花。空气滋养万物。氮气。植物园的温室。含羞草。睡莲。花瓣累得抬不起来。空气中弥漫着睡病。在玫瑰叶上行走。想象一下吃牛肚和牛蹄是什么滋味。我在某幅画里见过的小伙子在哪?啊,对了,在死海上仰面漂浮,打着阳伞看书。想沉都沉不下去:盐分太高。因为水的重量,不,是身体在水中的重量等于什么的重量?还是体积等于重量?是类似的定律。万斯在中学里掰着指关节讲课。大学课程。掰课程。你说重量的时候,真正的重量是什么?每秒每秒三十二英尺。落体定律:每秒每秒。它们都落向地面。地球。引力就是重量。

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relieved /rɪˈliːvd/
adj. 感到宽慰的;解脱的
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cactuses /ˈkæktəsɪz/
n. 仙人掌(复数)
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flowery /ˈflaʊəri/
adj. 多花的;花哨的
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snaky /ˈsneɪki/
adj. 蛇形的;蜿蜒的
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lianas /liˈɑːnəz/
n. 藤蔓植物(复数)
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Lethargy /ˈleθədʒi/
n. 昏睡;倦怠
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idleness /ˈaɪdlnəs/
n. 闲散;懒惰
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Hothouse /ˈhɒthaʊs/
n. 温室;暖房
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Waterlilies /ˈwɔːtəlɪliːz/
n. 睡莲(复数)
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tripe /traɪp/
n. 牛肚(食物)
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cowheel /ˈkaʊhiːl/
n. 牛蹄(食物)
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parasol /ˈpærəsɒl/
n. 遮阳伞
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gravity /ˈɡrævəti/
n. 重力;地心引力
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curriculum /kəˈrɪkjʊləm/
n. 课程;课程大纲

他转身溜达着穿过马路。她是怎么拿着香肠走路的?像那样子。他走着,从侧兜掏出折叠的《自由人报》,展开,卷成个棍状,每走一步就用它轻敲一次裤腿。一副漫不经心的样子:顺便进去看看。每秒每秒。每秒每秒的意思。从路缘石上,他敏锐地瞥了一眼邮局的门。信箱已过时。这儿寄信。没人。进去。

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sauntered /ˈsɔːntəd/
v. 闲逛;漫步
🔊
unfolded /ʌnˈfəʊldɪd/
v. 展开;打开
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lengthwise /ˈleŋθwaɪz/
adv. 纵向地
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baton /ˈbætɒn/
n. 指挥棒;警棍
🔊
sauntering /ˈsɔːntərɪŋ/
adj. 闲逛的;漫步的
🔊
curbstone /ˈkɜːbstəʊn/
n. 路缘石;街沿石
🔊
darted /dɑːtɪd/
v. 猛冲;投射(目光)
🔊
keen /kiːn/
adj. 敏锐的;强烈的

他把名片从铜格栅递进去。

“有我的信吗?”他问。

女局长在格子架里翻找时,他凝视着一张征兵海报,上面各兵种的士兵列队行进:他把纸卷的尖端抵在鼻孔上,嗅着新鲜印刷的破布纸。可能没回信。上次太过分了。

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postmistress /ˈpəʊstmɪstrəs/
n. 女邮政局长
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pigeonhole /ˈpɪdʒɪnhəʊl/
n. 鸽子笼式分类架;小隔间
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recruiting /rɪˈkruːtɪŋ/
adj. 招募的;征兵的

女局长从格栅里递回他的名片和一封信。他道了谢,迅速扫了一眼打字打印的信封。

🔊
rapidly /ˈræpɪdli/
adv. 快速地,迅速地

亨利·弗劳尔先生,由本市韦斯特兰街邮政局转交。

总算回了信。

🔊 He slipped card and letter into his sidepocket, reviewing again the soldiers on parade. Wheres old Tweedys regiment? Castoff soldier. There: bearskin cap and hackle plume. No, hes a grenadier. Pointed cuffs. There he is: royal Dublin fusiliers. Redcoats. Too showy. That must be why the women go after them. Uniform. Easier to enlist and drill. Maud Gonnes letter about taking them off OConnell street at night: disgrace to our Irish capital. Griffiths paper is on the same tack now: an army rotten with venereal disease: overseas or halfseasover empire. Half baked they look: hypnotised like. Eyes front. Mark time. Table: able. Bed: ed. The Kings own. Never see him dressed up as a fireman or a bobby. A mason, yes.

他把名片和信塞进侧兜,又看了看列队的士兵。老特威迪的团在哪?退伍兵。在那儿:熊皮帽和羽饰。不,他是掷弹兵。尖袖口。在那儿:皇家都柏林燧发枪团。红军装。太花哨了。难怪女人们追着他们跑。制服。容易招募和训练。毛德·冈内关于晚上把他们从奥康内尔街赶走的信:我们爱尔兰首都的耻辱。格里菲斯的报纸现在也唱同一个调子:一支败坏的军队,染着花柳病:海外或半身不遂的帝国。他们看起来半生不熟:像被催眠了似的。眼睛向前。踏步。桌子:能。床:能。国王陛下的。从没见他打扮成消防员或警察。共济会员,是的。

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regiment /ˈredʒɪmənt/
n. 团;军团
🔊
castoff /ˈkɑːstɒf/
adj. 被丢弃的;被抛弃的
🔊
bearskin /ˈbeəskɪn/
n. 熊皮;熊皮高帽
🔊
hackle /ˈhækəl/
n. 颈羽(鸟类颈部的羽毛)
🔊
plume /pluːm/
n. 羽毛;羽饰
🔊
grenadier /ˌɡrenəˈdɪə/
n. 掷弹兵;精锐步兵
🔊
cuffs /kʌfs/
n. 袖口;攻占
🔊
fusiliers /ˌfjuːzɪˈlɪəz/
n. 燧发枪团(复数)
🔊
redcoats /ˈredkəʊts/
n. 红衣兵(指英国士兵)
🔊
showy /ˈʃəʊi/
adj. 艳丽的;引人注目的
🔊
enlist /ɪnˈlɪst/
v. 入伍;征募
🔊
disgrace /dɪsˈɡreɪs/
n. 耻辱;不光彩
🔊
tack /tæk/
n. 方针;行动方向
🔊
rotten /ˈrɒtən/
adj. 腐烂的;糟糕的
🔊
venereal /vɪˈnɪəriəl/
adj. 性病的
🔊
overseas /ˌəʊvəˈsiːz/
adv. 在海外;在国外
🔊
empire /ˈempaɪə/
n. 帝国
🔊
hypnotised /ˈhɪpnətaɪzd/
adj. 被催眠的;着迷的
🔊
mason /ˈmeɪsən/
n. 石匠;共济会会员

他溜达出邮局,向右转。说话:好像那样就能解决问题似的。他的手伸进口袋,食指摸索到信封的封口下,猛地撕开。女人们会特别在意,我才不信呢。他的手指抽出信,把信封揉成一团塞进口袋。有别针别着的东西:也许是照片。头发?不。

🔊
strolled /strəʊld/
v. 散步;闲逛
🔊
forefinger /ˈfɔːfɪŋɡə/
n. 食指
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flap /flæp/
n. 封口盖;口盖
🔊
ripping /ˈrɪpɪŋ/
v. 撕开;扯破
🔊
jerks /dʒɜːks/
n. 猛拉;急动
🔊
heed /hiːd/
n. 注意;留心
🔊
crumpled /ˈkrʌmpəld/
v. 弄皱;皱缩
🔊 MCoy. Get rid of him quickly. Take me out of my way. Hate company when you. -Hello, Bloom. Where are you off to? -Hello, MCoy. Nowhere in particular. -Hows the body? -Fine. How are you? -Just keeping alive, MCoy said. His eyes on the black tie and clothes he asked with low respect: -Is there any... no trouble I hope? I see youre... -O, no, Mr Bloom said. Poor Dignam, you know. The funeral is today. -To be sure, poor fellow. So it is. What time? A photo it isnt. A badge maybe. -E... eleven, Mr Bloom answered. -I must try to get out there, MCoy said. Eleven, is it? I only heard it last night. Who was telling me? Holohan. You know Hoppy? -I know. Mr Bloom gazed across the road at the outsider drawn up before the door of the Grosvenor. The porter hoisted the valise up on the well. She stood still, waiting, while the man, husband, brother, like her, searched his pockets for change. Stylish kind of coat with that roll collar, warm for a day like this, looks like blanketcloth. Careless stand of her with her hands in those patch pockets. Like that haughty creature at the polo match. Women all for caste till you touch the spot. Handsome is and handsome does. Reserved about to yield. The honourable Mrs and Brutus is an honourable man. Possess her once take the starch out of her. -I was with Bob Doran, hes on one of his periodical bends, and what do you call him Bantam Lyons. Just down there in Conways we were. Doran Lyons in Conways. She raised a gloved hand to her hair. In came Hoppy. Having a wet. Drawing back his head and gazing far from beneath his vailed eyelids he saw the bright fawn skin shine in the glare, the braided drums. Clearly I can see today. Moisture about gives long sight perhaps. Talking of one thing or another. Ladys hand. Which side will she get up? -And he said: Sad thing about our poor friend Paddy! What Paddy? I said. Poor little Paddy Dignam, he said. Off to the country: Broadstone probably. High brown boots with laces dangling. Wellturned foot. What is he foostering over that change for? Sees me looking. Eye out for other fellow always. Good fallback. Two strings to her bow. -Why? I said. Whats wrong with him? I said. Proud: rich: silk stockings. -Yes, Mr Bloom said. He moved a little to the side of MCoys talking head. Getting up in a minute. -Whats wrong with him? He said. Hes dead, he said. And, faith, he filled up. Is it Paddy Dignam? I said. I couldnt believe it when I heard it. I was with him no later than Friday last or Thursday was it in the Arch. Yes, he said. Hes gone. He died on Monday, poor fellow. Watch! Watch! Silk flash rich stockings white. Watch! A heavy tramcar honking its gong slewed between. Lost it. Curse your noisy pugnose. Feels locked out of it. Paradise and the peri. Always happening like that.

麦科伊。快点甩掉他。耽误我时间。讨厌有人陪着当你……“你好,布鲁姆。去哪儿?”“你好,麦科伊。没什么特别的地方。”“身体怎么样?”“很好。你呢?”“还活着呗,”麦科伊说。他的眼睛盯着黑领带和衣服,低声恭敬地问:“没什么……麻烦吧,我希望?我看你……” “哦,不,”布卢姆先生说。“可怜的迪格纳姆,你知道。今天下葬。”“可不是,可怜的家伙。是的。几点?”不是照片。也许是徽章。“十……十一点,”布卢姆先生回答。“我得想法子去,”麦科伊说。“十一点,是吗?我昨晚才知道。谁告诉我的?霍洛汉。你知道霍皮吗?”“我知道。”布卢姆先生望着马路对面,一辆停在格罗夫纳酒店门外的出租马车。脚夫把旅行箱举上行李架。她静静站着等待,而那个男人--丈夫、兄弟,和她相像--在口袋里摸索零钱。时髦的外套,那种翻领,这种天气穿太暖和了,像毯子布料。她双手插在带补丁的口袋里,站姿随意。就像马球场上那个傲慢的小妞。女人看重阶级,直到你触及要害。漂亮的人做漂亮的事。矜持着准备屈服。可敬的夫人和布鲁图斯是个可敬的人。占有她一次,就磨掉她的傲气。“我跟鲍勃·多兰在一起,他正在周期性的闹酒,还有你叫他什么来着,班塔姆·莱昂斯。就在康韦那儿,我们一起。多兰和莱昂斯在康韦那儿。”她抬起戴手套的手理了理头发。霍皮进来了。喝一杯。他仰起头,从垂下的眼睑下远远望去,看见鲜亮的浅黄褐色皮肤在强光下闪光,鼓起的辫子。今天我看得真清楚。也许是湿度大让视线变远。东拉西扯。太太的手。她会从哪边起来?“他说:我们可怜的朋友帕迪的事真让人难过!哪个帕迪?我说。可怜的小帕迪·迪格纳姆,他说。去乡下:大概是布罗德斯特恩。高筒棕色皮鞋,鞋带晃荡着。优美的脚型。他干嘛为了那几个零钱磨蹭?看见我在看。总是留心别人。好退路。两条弦的弓。”“为什么?我说。他怎么了?我说。骄傲:有钱:丝袜。”“是的,”布卢姆先生说。他稍微往旁边挪了挪,避开麦科伊说话的脑袋。马上就要上车了。“他怎么了?他说。他死了,他说。而且,天哪,他眼泪都出来了。是帕迪·迪格纳姆吗?我说。我听到时简直不敢相信。最晚上周五还和他在一起,或者是周四,在拱门那儿。是的,他说。他走了。周一死的,可怜的家伙。看!看!丝光闪烁,富婆的白丝袜。看!一辆沉重的电车叮叮当当地斜插过来。错过了。该死的你那吵闹的猪鼻子。感觉被关在外面了。天堂和佩里。总是这样。

🔊
outsider /aʊtˈsaɪdə/
n. 局外人;门外汉
🔊
porter /ˈpɔːtə/
n. 搬运工;门房
🔊
hoisted /hɔɪstɪd/
v. 举起;吊起
🔊
valise /vəˈliːz/
n. 手提箱;旅行箱
🔊
stylish /ˈstaɪlɪʃ/
adj. 时髦的;有风格的
🔊
haughty /ˈhɔːti/
adj. 傲慢的;自大的
🔊
caste /kɑːst/
n. 社会等级;种姓制度
🔊
reserved /rɪˈzɜːvd/
adj. 矜持的;内向的
🔊
yield /jiːld/
v. 屈服;让步
🔊
possess /pəˈzes/
v. 拥有;具有
🔊
starch /stɑːtʃ/
n. 淀粉;僵硬
🔊
periodical /ˌpɪəriˈɒdɪkəl/
adj. 定期的;周期的
🔊
bends /bendz/
n. 潜水员病(减压病);倾向
🔊
gloved /ɡlʌvd/
adj. 戴手套的
🔊
vailed /veɪld/
adj. 低垂的(指眼睑等)
🔊
eyelids /ˈaɪlɪdz/
n. 眼睑(复数)
🔊
fawn /fɔːn/
adj. 浅黄褐色的;幼鹿色的
🔊
glare /ɡleə/
n. 刺眼的光;怒视
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braided /ˈbreɪdɪd/
adj. 编成辫的;编织的
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moisture /ˈmɔɪstʃə/
n. 湿气;水分
🔊
dangling /ˈdæŋɡlɪŋ/
v. 悬垂;摇摆
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fallback /ˈfɔːlbæk/
n. 备用方案;退路
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tramcar /ˈtræmkɑː/
n. 有轨电车
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honking /ˈhɒŋkɪŋ/
v. (汽车)鸣喇叭
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gong /ɡɒŋ/
n.
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slewed /sluːd/
v. (使)旋转;(使)急转
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curse /kɜːs/
v. 诅咒;咒骂
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badge /bædʒ/
n. 徽章;标志
🔊
polo /ˈpəʊləʊ/
n. 马球运动
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paradise /ˈpærədaɪs/
n. 天堂;乐园
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peri /ˈpeəri/
n. 妖精(波斯神话)
🔊 The very moment. Girl in Eustace street hallway Monday was it settling her garter. Her friend covering the display of esprit de corps. Well, what are you gaping at? -Yes, yes, Mr Bloom said after a dull sigh. Another gone. -One of the best, MCoy said. The tram passed. They drove off towards the Loop Line bridge, her rich gloved hand on the steel grip. Flicker, flicker: the laceflare of her hat in the sun: flicker, flick. -Wife well, I suppose? MCoys changed voice said. -O, yes, Mr Bloom said. Tiptop, thanks. He unrolled the newspaper baton idly and read idly: What is home without Plumtrees Potted Meat? Incomplete. With it an abode of bliss. -My missus has just got an engagement. At least its not settled yet. Valise tack again. By the way no harm. Im off that, thanks. Mr Bloom turned his largelidded eyes with unhasty friendliness. -My wife too, he said. Shes going to sing at a swagger affair in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on the twenty-fifth. -That so? MCoy said. Glad to hear that, old man. Whos getting it up? Mrs Marion Bloom. Not up yet. Queen was in her bedroom eating bread and. No book. Blackened court cards laid along her thigh by sevens. Dark lady and fair man. Letter. Cat furry black ball. Torn strip of envelope. Loves Old Sweet Song Comes lo-oves old... -Its a kind of a tour, dont you see, Mr Bloom said thoughtfully. Sweeeet song. Theres a committee formed. Part shares and part profits. MCoy nodded, picking at his moustache stubble. -O, well, he said. Thats good news. He moved to go. -Well, glad to see you looking fit, he said. Meet you knocking around. -Yes, Mr Bloom said. -Tell you what, MCoy said. You might put down my name at the funeral, will you? Id like to go but I mightnt be able, you see. Theres a drowning case at Sandycove may turn up and then the coroner and myself would have to go down if the body is found. You just shove in my name if Im not there, will you? -Ill do that, Mr Bloom said, moving to get off. Thatll be all right. -Right, MCoy said brightly. Thanks, old man. Id go if I possibly could. Well, tolloll. Just C. P. MCoy will do. -That will be done, Mr Bloom answered firmly. Didnt catch me napping that wheeze. The quick touch. Soft mark. Id like my job. Valise I have a particular fancy for. Leather. Capped corners, rivetted edges, double action lever lock. Bob Cowley lent him his for the Wicklow regatta concert last year and never heard tidings of it from that good day to this. Mr Bloom, strolling towards Brunswick street, smiled. My missus has just got an. Reedy freckled soprano. Cheeseparing nose. Nice enough in its way: for a little ballad. No guts in it. You and me, dont you know: in the same boat. Softsoaping. Give you the needle that would. Cant he hear the difference?

就在那一刻。周一尤斯塔斯街门厅里那个女孩在系吊袜带。她的朋友遮挡着,显示团队精神。喂,你张着嘴看什么?“是的,是的,”布卢姆先生沉闷地叹了口气后说。“又走了一个。”“最好的人之一,”麦科伊说。电车过去了。他们向环线桥驶去,她戴着手套的富态的手握着钢扶手。闪烁,闪烁:她帽子上的花边在阳光下闪动:闪烁,闪。“妻子还好吧,我想?”麦科伊换了语气说。“哦,是的,”布卢姆先生说。“好极了,谢谢。”他漫不经心地展开报纸卷,随意读着:没有普朗姆特里肉酱的家算什么家?不完整。有了它,就是幸福乐园。“我老婆刚接了个活儿。至少还没定下来。”旅行箱又出现了。顺便说一句,没坏处。那事我不干了,谢谢。布卢姆先生迟缓而友好地转了转他那大眼睛的眼睑。“我老婆也是,”他说。“她要在二十五号去贝尔法斯特的阿尔斯特厅一个体面的场合唱歌。”“是吗?”麦科伊说。“很高兴听到这个消息,老兄。谁组织的?”马里恩·布鲁姆太太。还没起床。王后在她卧室里吃面包和……没书。黑色宫廷牌沿她大腿排成七列。黑发女郎和金发男人。信。猫,黑色毛球。撕开的信封条。爱情古老甜美的歌,来--爱情古老甜美的……“有点像巡回演出,你看,”布卢姆先生若有所思地说。甜美的歌。成立了一个委员会。部分股份,部分利润。麦科伊点点头,揪着胡子茬。“哦,好吧,”他说。“是好消息。”他准备走。“好了,很高兴看到你气色不错,”他说。“回头见。”“是的,”布卢姆先生说。“告诉你,”麦科伊说。“你可以在葬礼上替我报个名,行吗?我想去,但可能去不了,你知道。桑迪科夫有个溺水案可能要处理,如果发现尸体,验尸官和我都得去。如果我不在,你就把我的名字写上去,行吗?”“我会的,”布卢姆先生说着,准备脱身。“没问题。”“好,”麦科伊愉快地说。“谢谢,老兄。如果可能,我会去的。好了,回头见。就写C.P.麦科伊就行。”“就这么办,”布卢姆先生坚定地回答。这家伙的花招没让我措手不及。快拳。软柿子。我喜欢自己的活儿。我对旅行箱情有独钟。皮的。包角,铆边,双动杠杆锁。鲍勃·考利去年为了威克洛赛舟音乐会借给他一个,从那以后就再也没听说过它的下落。布卢姆先生朝布伦瑞克街走去,微笑着。我老婆刚接了个……干瘪的雀斑女高音。吝啬的鼻子。就其本身而言还不错:唱个小曲。没有胆量。你和我,你知道:同一条船。说好话。会给你一针的。难道他听不出区别?

🔊
garter /ˈɡɑːtə/
n. 吊袜带
🔊
flicker /ˈflɪkə/
v. 闪烁;摇曳
🔊
incomplete /ˌɪnkəmˈpliːt/
adj. 不完全的;未完成的
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abode /əˈbəʊd/
n. 住所;居住地
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bliss /blɪs/
n. 极乐;幸福
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engagement /ɪnˈɡeɪdʒmənt/
n. 约会;婚约;演出预约
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swagger /ˈswæɡə/
adj. 时髦的;炫酷的
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blackened /ˈblækənd/
adj. 变黑的;被烧黑的
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court cards /kɔːt kɑːdz/
n. 纸牌中的花牌(K、Q、J)
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thigh /θaɪ/
n. 大腿;股
🔊
furry /ˈfɜːri/
adj. 毛茸茸的;覆盖绒毛的
🔊
moustache /məˈstɑːʃ/
n. 髭;小胡子
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stubble /ˈstʌbəl/
n. 胡茬;茬子
🔊
drowning /ˈdraʊnɪŋ/
n. 溺水;淹死
🔊
coroner /ˈkɒrənə/
n. 验尸官
🔊
firmly /ˈfɜːmli/
adv. 坚定地;牢固地
🔊
capped /kæpt/
adj. 有盖的;限额的
🔊
rivetted /ˈrɪvɪtɪd/
adj. 铆接的;固定的
🔊
regatta /rɪˈɡætə/
n. 赛艇会;划船比赛
🔊
tidings /ˈtaɪdɪŋz/
n. 音信;消息
🔊 Think hes that way inclined a bit. Against my grain somehow. Thought that Belfast would fetch him. I hope that smallpox up there doesnt get worse. Suppose she wouldnt let herself be vaccinated again. Your wife and my wife. Wonder is he pimping after me? Mr Bloom stood at the corner, his eyes wandering over the multicoloured hoardings. Cantrell and Cochranes Ginger Ale (Aromatic). Clerys Summer Sale. No, hes going on straight. Hello. Leah tonight. Mrs Bandmann Palmer. Like to see her again in that. Hamletshe played last night. Male impersonator. Perhaps he was a woman. Why Ophelia committed suicide. Poor papa! How he used to talk of Kate Bateman in that. Outside the Adelphi in London waited all the afternoon to get in. Year before I was born that was: sixtyfive. And Ristori in Vienna. What is this the right name is? By Mosenthal it is. Rachel, is it? No. The scene he was always talking about where the old blind Abraham recognises the voice and puts his fingers on his face. Nathans voice! His sons voice! I hear the voice of Nathan who left his father to die of grief and misery in my arms, who left the house of his father and left the God of his father. Every word is so deep, Leopold. Poor papa! Poor man! Im glad I didnt go into the room to look at his face. That day! O, dear! O, dear! Ffoo! Well, perhaps it was best for him. Mr Bloom went round the corner and passed the drooping nags of the hazard. No use thinking of it any more. Nosebag time. Wish I hadnt met that MCoy fellow. He came nearer and heard a crunching of gilded oats, the gently champing teeth. Their full buck eyes regarded him as he went by, amid the sweet oaten reek of horsepiss. Their Eldorado. Poor jugginses! Damn all they know or care about anything with their long noses stuck in nosebags. Too full for words. Still they get their feed all right and their doss. Gelded too: a stump of black guttapercha wagging limp between their haunches. Might be happy all the same that way. Good poor brutes they look. Still their neigh can be very irritating. He drew the letter from his pocket and folded it into the newspaper he carried. Might just walk into her here. The lane is safer. He passed the cabmans shelter. Curious the life of drifting cabbies. All weathers, all places, time or setdown, no will of their own. Voglio e non. Like to give them an odd cigarette. Sociable. Shout a few flying syllables as they pass. He hummed: Là ci darem la mano La la lala la la. He turned into Cumberland street and, going on some paces, halted in the lee of the station wall. No-one. Meades timberyard. Piled balks. Ruins and tenements. With careful tread he passed over a hopscotch court with its forgotten pickeystone. Not a sinner.

觉得他有点那个倾向。不知怎的违背我的意愿。以为贝尔法斯特会吸引他。我希望那儿的痘症别再恶化。假设她不会让自己再种痘。你的妻子和我的妻子。不知道他是不是在勾引我?布卢姆先生站在街角,目光扫过五颜六色的广告牌。坎特雷尔和科克伦的姜汁汽水(芳香型)。克莱里夏季大甩卖。不,他径直往前走了。你好。《利亚》今晚。班德曼·帕尔默夫人。想再看她演那个。她昨晚演了哈姆雷特。男扮女装。也许他本就是个女人。为什么奥菲莉亚自杀。可怜的爸爸!他过去常常谈凯特·贝特曼演这个角色。在伦敦的阿德尔菲剧院外等了一下午才进去。那是我出生前一年:六五年。还有维也纳的里斯托里。正确的名字是什么?是莫森塔尔的作品。拉结?是吗?他老是谈的那个场景,老盲人亚伯拉罕认出声音,把手指放在他脸上。内森的声音!他儿子的声音!我听见内森的声音,他让父亲在悲伤和痛苦中死在我怀里,他离开了父亲的房子,离开了父亲的上帝。每个字都那么深奥,利奥波德。可怜的爸爸!可怜的人!我很高兴没有进房间看他的脸。那天!哦,天哪!哦,天哪!呸!嗯,也许对他来说最好。布卢姆先生转过街角,经过那些垂头丧气的出租马。别再想它了。喂食时间。希望没遇到那个麦科伊家伙。他走近时,听见嘎吱嘎吱的镀金燕麦声,轻柔地咀嚼的牙齿。他经过时,那些饱满的牡鹿眼睛看着他,周围是甜美的燕麦和马的尿骚味。他们的埃尔多拉多。可怜的家伙!它们长鼻子插在饲料袋里,对任何事情一无所知,也毫不关心。饱得说不出话。不过它们确实有吃的,有地方睡。也被阉割了:屁股后面耷拉着一根黑色古塔胶的残桩,软塌塌地晃着。也许那样也挺幸福的。它们看起来是多好的可怜畜生。不过它们的嘶鸣有时很烦人。他从口袋里掏出信,折好夹在报纸里。说不定就在这里撞见她。巷子里更安全。他经过马车夫的休息处。漂泊的马车夫的生活真奇怪。无论天气,无论地点,时间或停靠,没有自己的意志。Voglio e non. 喜欢偶尔给他们一支烟。友好。他们经过时喊几个飞快的音节。他哼着歌:Là ci darem la mano,啦啦啦啦啦啦。他拐进坎伯兰街,走了几步,在车站墙的背风处停下。没人。米德的木材场。堆着的木料。废墟和出租屋。他小心地走过一个跳房子格子和被遗忘的掷石。没有一个人影。

🔊
smallpox /ˈsmɔːlpɒks/
n. 天花
🔊
vaccinated /ˈvæksɪneɪtɪd/
v. 接种疫苗
🔊
pimping /ˈpɪmpɪŋ/
v. 拉皮条;当淫媒
🔊
multicoloured /ˌmʌltiˈkʌləd/
adj. 多彩的;五颜六色的
🔊
hoardings /ˈhɔːdɪŋz/
n. 广告牌;临时围板
🔊
aromatic /ˌærəˈmætɪk/
adj. 芳香的;有香味的
🔊
impersonator /ɪmˈpɜːsəneɪtə/
n. 模仿者;扮演者
🔊
grief /ɡriːf/
n. 悲伤;悲痛
🔊
misery /ˈmɪzəri/
n. 痛苦;悲惨
🔊
drooping /ˈdruːpɪŋ/
adj. 下垂的;低垂的
🔊
nags /næɡz/
n. 老马(复数);劣马
🔊
hazard /ˈhæzəd/
n. 危险;风险
🔊
Nosebag /ˈnəʊzbæɡ/
n. (马的)草料袋
🔊
crunching /ˈkrʌntʃɪŋ/
v. 嘎吱嘎吱地嚼;碾碎
🔊
gilded /ˈɡɪldɪd/
adj. 镀金的;金色的
🔊
champing /ˈtʃæmpɪŋ/
v. (马)大声咀嚼;焦急
🔊
amid /əˈmɪd/
prep. 在……中;在……之间
🔊
reek /riːk/
n. 臭味;浓烈的气味
🔊
buck /bʌk/
n. 鹿;雄鹿
🔊
regarded /rɪˈɡɑːdɪd/
v. 看待;注视
🔊
gelded /ˈɡeldɪd/
adj. 去势的;阉割的
🔊
stump /stʌmp/
n. 树桩;残肢
🔊
guttapercha /ˌɡʌtəˈpɜːtʃə/
n. 杜仲胶;古塔胶
🔊
wagging /ˈwæɡɪŋ/
v. 摇摆;摆动
🔊
limp /lɪmp/
adj. 无力的;软弱的
🔊
haunches /hɔːntʃɪz/
n. (人、动物的)臀部;后腿
🔊
brutes /bruːts/
n. 畜生;残忍的人
🔊
neigh /neɪ/
n. 马嘶声
🔊
irritating /ˈɪrɪteɪtɪŋ/
adj. 令人恼火的;刺激的
🔊
drifting /ˈdrɪftɪŋ/
v. 漂流;漂泊
🔊
sociable /ˈsəʊʃəbəl/
adj. 好交际的;友善的
🔊
hummed /hʌmd/
v. 哼唱;发出嗡嗡声
🔊
lee /liː/
n. 避风处;背风面
🔊
balks /bɔːks/
n. 大梁;障碍
🔊
ruins /ˈruːɪnz/
n. 废墟;遗迹
🔊
tenements /ˈtenəmənts/
n. 廉价公寓;出租屋
🔊
tread /tred/
n. 脚步;步态
🔊
hopscotch /ˈhɒpskɒtʃ/
n. 跳房子游戏
🔊
sinner /ˈsɪnə/
n. 罪人;有罪者
🔊 Near the timberyard a squatted child at marbles, alone, shooting the taw with a cunnythumb. A wise tabby, a blinking sphinx, watched from her warm sill. Pity to disturb them. Mohammed cut a piece out of his mantle not to wake her. Open it. And once I played marbles when I went to that old dames school. She liked mignonette. Mrs Elliss. And Mr? He opened the letter within the newspaper. A flower. I think its a. A yellow flower with flattened petals. Not annoyed then? What does she say? Dear Henry I got your last letter to me and thank you very much for it. I am sorry you did not like my last letter. Why did you enclose the stamps? I am awfully angry with you. I do wish I could punish you for that. I called you naughty boy because I do not like that other world. Please tell me what is the real meaning of that word? Are you not happy in your home you poor little naughty boy? I do wish I could do something for you. Please tell me what you think of poor me. I often think of the beautiful name you have. Dear Henry, when will we meet? I think of you so often you have no idea. I have never felt myself so much drawn to a man as you. I feel so bad about. Please write me a long letter and tell me more. Remember if you do not I will punish you. So now you know what I will do to you, you naughty boy, if you do not wrote. O how I long to meet you. Henry dear, do not deny my request before my patience are exhausted. Then I will tell you all. Goodbye now, naughty darling, I have such a bad headache. today. and write by return to your longing Martha P. S. Do tell me what kind of perfume does your wife use. I want to know. He tore the flower gravely from its pinhold smelt its almost no smell and placed it in his heart pocket. Language of flowers. They like it because no-one can hear. Or a poison bouquet to strike him down. Then walking slowly forward he read the letter again, murmuring here and there a word. Angry tulips with you darling manflower punish your cactus if you dont please poor forgetmenot how I long violets to dear roses when we soon anemone meet all naughty nightstalk wife Marthas perfume. Having read it all he took it from the newspaper and put it back in his sidepocket. Weak joy opened his lips. Changed since the first letter. Wonder did she wrote it herself. Doing the indignant: a girl of good family like me, respectable character. Could meet one Sunday after the rosary. Thank you: not having any. Usual love scrimmage. Then running round corners. Bad as a row with Molly. Cigar has a cooling effect. Narcotic. Go further next time. Naughty boy: punish: afraid of words, of course. Brutal, why not? Try it anyhow. A bit at a time. Fingering still the letter in his pocket he drew the pin out of it. Common pin, eh? He threw it on the road.

木材场附近一个孩子蹲着玩弹子,一人,用拇指弹着石弹。一只聪明的虎斑猫,眨眼的斯芬克斯,从温暖的窗台上看着。打扰它们真可惜。穆罕默德为了不吵醒她,从斗篷上割下一块。打开它。我上那个老太太的学校时也玩过弹子。她喜欢木樨草。埃利斯夫人的学校。先生呢?他在报纸里打开信。一朵花。我想是……一朵黄色的花,花瓣扁平。那么不生气了?她说什么?亲爱的亨利,我收到了你上一封给我的信,非常感谢。我很遗憾你不喜欢我的上一封信。你为什么附上邮票?我对此非常生你的气。我真希望为此惩罚你。我称你为淘气男孩,因为我不喜欢那个别的世界。请告诉我那个词的真实含义是什么?你在家不快乐吗,你这可怜的小淘气鬼?我真希望能为你做点什么。请告诉我你对可怜的我有什么看法。我常想起你那个美丽的名字。亲爱的亨利,我们何时见面?我常常想你,你无法想象。我从未感到被一个男人如此吸引。我为此感到很难受。请给我写封长信,多告诉我一些。记住,如果你不写,我会惩罚你。所以现在你知道我会怎么对你,你这淘气男孩,如果你不写的话。哦,我多么渴望见到你。亲爱的亨利,在我耐心耗尽之前,不要拒绝我的请求。然后我会告诉你一切。现在再见,淘气的亲爱的,我今天头疼得厉害。请立即回信给你渴望的玛莎。又及:请告诉我你的妻子用什么香水。我想知道。他庄重地把花从别针上撕下,闻了闻几乎没味道的花,把它放在心脏位置的口袋里。花的语言。她们喜欢,因为没人能听见。或者一束毒花把他击倒。然后他缓缓地向前走,又读了一遍信,这里那里喃喃地说着词。生气的郁金香和你,亲爱的男子花,惩罚你的仙人掌,如果你不让可怜的勿忘我满意,我多么渴望紫罗兰送给亲爱的玫瑰,当我们很快银莲花见面,所有淘气的夜茎妻子,玛莎的香水。读完信后,他从报纸里取出,放回侧兜。微弱的喜悦让他嘴唇微张。和第一封信比变了。不知道是否她亲手写的。做出愤慨的样子:像我这样出身好、品行端正的女孩。可以在星期天念完玫瑰经后见面。谢谢:没必要。通常的爱情争吵。然后绕着街角跑。和莫莉吵架一样糟糕。雪茄有镇定作用。麻醉剂。下次更进一步。淘气男孩:惩罚:当然,怕字眼。粗暴,为什么不?试试看。一次一点。手指还在口袋里摸索信,他拔出别针。普通别针,呃?他把它扔在路上。

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sphinx /sfɪŋks/
n. 斯芬克斯(埃及神话中的狮身人面像);神秘莫测的人
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mantle /ˈmæntl/
n. 斗篷;覆盖物;地幔
🔊 Out of her clothes somewhere: pinned together. Queer the number of pins they always have. No roses without thorns. Flat Dublin voices bawled in his head. Those two sluts that night in the Coombe, linked together in the rain. O, Mairy lost the pin of her drawers. She didnt know what to do To keep it up To keep it up. It? Them. Such a bad headache. Has her roses probably. Or sitting all day typing. Eyefocus bad for stomach nerves. What perfume does your wife use. Now could you make out a thing like that? To keep it up. Martha, Mary. I saw that picture somewhere I forget now old master or faked for money. He is sitting in their house, talking. Mysterious. Also the two sluts in the Coombe would listen. To keep it up. Nice kind of evening feeling. No more wandering about. Just loll there: quiet dusk: let everything rip. Forget. Tell about places you have been, strange customs. The other one, jar on her head, was getting the supper: fruit, olives, lovely cool water out of a well, stonecold like the hole in the wall at Ashtown. Must carry a paper goblet next time I go to the trottingmatches. She listens with big dark soft eyes. Tell her: more and more: all. Then a sigh: silence. Long long long rest. Going under the railway arch he took out the envelope, tore it swiftly in shreds and scattered them towards the road. The shreds fluttered away, sank in the dank air: a white flutter, then all sank. Henry Flower. You could tear up a cheque for a hundred pounds in the same way. Simple bit of paper. Lord Iveagh once cashed a sevenfigure cheque for a million in the bank of Ireland. Shows you the money to be made out of porter. Still the other brother lord Ardilaun has to change his shirt four times a day, they say. Skin breeds lice or vermin. A million pounds, wait a moment. Twopence a pint, fourpence a quart, eightpence a gallon of porter, no, one and fourpence a gallon of porter. One and four into twenty: fifteen about. Yes, exactly. Fifteen millions of barrels of porter. What am I saying barrels? Gallons. About a million barrels all the same. An incoming train clanked heavily above his head, coach after coach. Barrels bumped in his head: dull porter slopped and churned inside. The bungholes sprang open and a huge dull flood leaked out, flowing together, winding through mudflats all over the level land, a lazy pooling swirl of liquor bearing along wideleaved flowers of its froth. He had reached the open backdoor of All Hallows. Stepping into the porch he doffed his hat, took the card from his pocket and tucked it again behind the leather headband. Damn it. I might have tried to work MCoy for a pass to Mullingar. Same notice on the door. Sermon by the very reverend John Conmee S.J. on saint Peter Claver S.J. and the African Mission.

她衣服某处:别在一起的。她们总是有那么多别针,真奇怪。没有不带刺的玫瑰。扁平都柏林口音在他脑子里轰鸣。那晚在库姆,那两个荡妇,在雨中勾搭在一起。哦,梅丽丢了内裤的别针。她不知道怎么办,怎么提住它,怎么提住它。它?它们。头疼得厉害。大概是来玫瑰经了。或者整天坐着打字。眼睛聚焦对胃神经不好。你的妻子用什么香水。现在你能弄明白那种事吗?怎么提住它。玛莎,玛利亚。我见过那幅画,记不清在哪里了,老大师或为钱伪造的。他坐在他们家里,说话。神秘。库姆那两个荡妇也会听。怎么提住它。美好的傍晚感觉。不再闲逛。就懒洋洋地躺着:宁静的黄昏:一切随它去。忘却。讲讲你去过的地方,奇怪的风俗。另一个,头上顶着水罐,在做晚饭:水果,橄榄,清澈凉爽的井水,像阿什敦墙上的洞一样冰冷。下次去赛马会时得带个纸杯。她睁着大大的黑眼睛听着。告诉她:越来越多:全部。然后一声叹息:沉默。长长长久的休息。经过铁路拱桥时,他拿出信封,迅速撕成碎片,撒向马路。碎片飘落,在潮湿的空气中沉下去:一片白色飘动,然后全部沉下。亨利·弗劳尔。你可以用同样的方式撕碎一张一百英镑的支票。简单的纸片。艾维勋爵曾经在爱尔兰银行兑现过一张七位数的百万英镑支票。这说明从黑啤里能赚多少钱。还有另一个弟弟,阿迪朗勋爵,一天得换四次衬衫,他们说。皮肤容易生虱子或寄生虫。一百万英镑,等等。一品脱两便士,一夸脱四便士,一加仑黑啤八便士,不,一加仑黑啤一先令四便士。一先令四便士除以二十:大约十五。是的,没错。一千五百万桶黑啤。我说桶?加仑。大约一百万桶。一列进站的火车在他头顶轰鸣,一节接一节车厢。桶在他脑子里碰撞:浑浊的黑啤在里面泼溅搅动。桶孔迸开,一股巨大的浊流涌出,汇聚在一起,蜿蜒穿过泥滩,漫过平坦的大地,懒洋洋的漩涡漩涡酒液,漂着宽阔叶子的泡沫。他走到了诸圣堂的后门。跨进门廊,他脱下帽子,从口袋里取出名片,又别在皮箍后面。该死。我本可以试试让麦科伊弄张去马林加的车票。门上同样的告示。由极其尊敬的约翰·康米S.J.布道,关于圣彼得·克拉弗S.J.和非洲传教团。

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mysterious /mɪˈstɪəriəs/
adj. 神秘的;难以理解的
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dusk /dʌsk/
n. 黄昏;薄暮
🔊 Prayers for the conversion of Gladstone they had too when he was almost unconscious. The protestants are the same. Convert Dr William J. Walsh D.D. to the true religion. Save Chinas millions. Wonder how they explain it to the heathen Chinee. Prefer an ounce of opium. Celestials. Rank heresy for them. Buddha their god lying on his side in the museum. Taking it easy with hand under his cheek. Josssticks burning. Not like Ecce Homo. Crown of thorns and cross. Clever idea Saint Patrick the shamrock. Chopsticks? Conmee: Martin Cunningham knows him: distinguishedlooking. Sorry I didnt work him about getting Molly into the choir instead of that Father Farley who looked a fool but wasnt. Theyre taught that. Hes not going out in bluey specs with the sweat rolling off him to baptise blacks, is he? The glasses would take their fancy, flashing. Like to see them sitting round in a ring with blub lips, entranced, listening. Still life. Lap it up like milk, I suppose. The cold smell of sacred stone called him. He trod the worn steps, pushed the swingdoor and entered softly by the rere. Something going on: some sodality. Pity so empty. Nice discreet place to be next some girl. Who is my neighbour? Jammed by the hour to slow music. That woman at midnight mass. Seventh heaven. Women knelt in the benches with crimson halters round their necks, heads bowed. A batch knelt at the altarrails. The priest went along by them, murmuring, holding the thing in his hands. He stopped at each, took out a communion, shook a drop or two (are they in water?) off it and put it neatly into her mouth. Her hat and head sank. Then the next one. Her hat sank at once. Then the next one: a small old woman. The priest bent down to put it into her mouth, murmuring all the time. Latin. The next one. Shut your eyes and open your mouth. What? Corpus: body. Corpse. Good idea the Latin. Stupefies them first. Hospice for the dying. They dont seem to chew it: only swallow it down. Rum idea: eating bits of a corpse. Why the cannibals cotton to it. He stood aside watching their blind masks pass down the aisle, one by one, and seek their places. He approached a bench and seated himself in its corner, nursing his hat and newspaper. These pots we have to wear. We ought to have hats modelled on our heads. They were about him here and there, with heads still bowed in their crimson halters, waiting for it to melt in their stomachs. Something like those mazzoth: its that sort of bread: unleavened shewbread. Look at them. Now I bet it makes them feel happy. Lollipop. It does. Yes, bread of angels its called. Theres a big idea behind it, kind of kingdom of God is within you feel. First communicants. Hokypoky penny a lump. Then feel all like one family party, same in the theatre, all in the same swim.

他们也有为格莱斯顿改宗的祈祷,那时他几乎不省人事。新教徒也一样。让威廉·J·沃尔什博士改信真正的宗教。拯救中国的数百万人民。不知道他们怎么对异教徒中国人解释。宁愿要一盎司鸦片。天朝上民。对他们来说是极端异端。他们的神佛在博物馆里侧身躺着。手托腮,悠闲自在。香在燃烧。不像《请看此人》。荆棘冠冕和十字架。圣帕特里克的三叶草是好主意。筷子?康米:马丁·坎宁安认识他:仪表堂堂。可惜我没想办法让他把莫莉弄进唱诗班,而不是那个法利神父,他看上去像个傻瓜但其实不是。他们受过训练。他不会戴着蓝眼镜,浑身流汗去给黑人施洗,是吧?眼镜会吸引他们,闪闪发光。真喜欢看到他们围坐一圈,厚嘴唇,入迷地听着。静物。我想他们会像喝牛奶一样喝下去。圣石的冷冽气味召唤着他。他踩着磨损的台阶,推开弹簧门,从后面悄悄进入。有活动:某个善会。可惜这么空。陪某个姑娘的好地方。谁是我的邻人?挤在一起,伴着慢音乐。午夜晚会上那个女人。第七重天。女人们跪在长凳上,脖子上围着深红色围巾,低着头。一群跪在祭坛栏杆前。神父沿着她们走过去,喃喃自语,手里拿着那东西。他在每个人面前停下,取出一块圣体,抖掉一两滴(是水吗?),然后灵巧地放进她嘴里。她的帽子和头低下去。然后下一个。她的帽子立刻低下。再下一个:一个小老太太。神父弯下腰把圣体放进她嘴里,一直喃喃自语。拉丁文。下一个。闭上眼睛,张开嘴。什么?Corpus:身体。尸体。拉丁文好主意。先让她们麻木。临终关怀院。她们似乎不嚼:只是吞下去。怪主意:吃尸体碎片。难怪食人族喜欢。他站在旁边,看着他们盲目的面具一个个走出过道,寻找自己的位置。他走近一张长凳,在角落里坐下,拿着帽子和报纸。我们得戴这些罐子。应该按我们的头型做帽子。他们散坐在他周围,头还低在深红色围巾里,等着圣体在胃里融化。有点像那种无酵饼:就是那种面包:未发酵的供饼。看看他们。我打赌这让他们感到幸福。棒棒糖。确实。是的,天使之粮。背后有个大观念,某种上帝的王国在你心中。初领圣体者。霍基波基一便士一块。然后感觉像一家人聚会,和剧院里一样,都在同一股水流里。

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heathen /ˈhiːðən/
n. & adj. 异教徒(的);不信上帝的人(的)
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opium /ˈəʊpiəm/
n. 鸦片
🔊 They do. Im sure of that. Not so lonely. In our confraternity. Then come out a bit spreeish. Let off steam. Thing is if you really believe in it. Lourdes cure, waters of oblivion, and the Knock apparition, statues bleeding. Old fellow asleep near that confessionbox. Hence those snores. Blind faith. Safe in the arms of kingdom come. Lulls all pain. Wake this time next year. He saw the priest stow the communion cup away, well in, and kneel an instant before it, showing a large grey bootsole from under the lace affair he had on. Suppose he lost the pin of his. He wouldnt know what to do to. Bald spot behind. Letters on his back: I.N.R.I? No: I.H.S. Molly told me one time I asked her. I have sinned: or no: I have suffered, it is. And the other one? Iron nails ran in. Meet one Sunday after the rosary. Do not deny my request. Turn up with a veil and black bag. Dusk and the light behind her. She might be here with a ribbon round her neck and do the other thing all the same on the sly. Their character. That fellow that turned queens evidence on the invincibles he used to receive the, Carey was his name, the communion every morning. This very church. Peter Carey, yes. No, Peter Claver I am thinking of. Denis Carey. And just imagine that. Wife and six children at home. And plotting that murder all the time. Those crawthumpers, now thats a good name for them, theres always something shiftylooking about them. Theyre not straight men of business either. O, no, shes not here: the flower: no, no. By the way, did I tear up that envelope? Yes: under the bridge. The priest was rinsing out the chalice: then he tossed off the dregs smartly. Wine. Makes it more aristocratic than for example if he drank what they are used to Guinnesss porter or some temperance beverage Wheatleys Dublin hop bitters or Cantrell and Cochranes ginger ale (aromatic). Doesnt give them any of it: shew wine: only the other. Cold comfort. Pious fraud but quite right: otherwise theyd have one old booser worse than another coming along, cadging for a drink. Queer the whole atmosphere of the. Quite right. Perfectly right that is. Mr Bloom looked back towards the choir. Not going to be any music. Pity. Who has the organ here I wonder? Old Glynn he knew how to make that instrument talk, the vibrato: fifty pounds a year they say he had in Gardiner street. Molly was in fine voice that day, the Stabat Mater of Rossini. Father Bernard Vaughans sermon first. Christ or Pilate? Christ, but dont keep us all night over it. Music they wanted. Footdrill stopped. Could hear a pin drop. I told her to pitch her voice against that corner. I could feel the thrill in the air, the full, the people looking up: Quis est homo. Some of that old sacred music splendid. Mercadante: seven last words.

他们确实如此。我敢肯定。不那么孤独。在我们的共济会里。然后出来时有点酒意。释放压力。关键是如果你真的相信它。卢尔德治愈,遗忘之水,诺克显灵,雕像流血。老头睡在告解室附近。因此有鼾声。盲目信仰。安全在天国的怀抱里。平息所有痛苦。明年这时候醒来。他看见神父收起圣体杯,放好,在它面前跪了一会儿,从他穿的花边衣服下面露出一个灰色的大靴底。假设他的别针丢了。他不知道该怎么办。脑后秃斑。他背上的字母:I.N.R.I?不:I.H.S.莫莉有一次我问她时告诉我的。我有罪:或不:是我受了苦。另一个呢?铁钉刺入。星期天念完玫瑰经后见面。不要拒绝我的请求。戴着面纱和黑包出现。黄昏和她身后的灯光。她可能在这里,脖子上系着丝带,同时偷偷做另一件事。她们的性格。那个在不可侵犯者案件中转为女王证人的家伙,他过去每天早晨领圣体,凯里是他的名字。就是这座教堂。彼得·凯里,是的。不,我想到的是彼得·克拉弗。丹尼斯·凯里。想想看。家里有妻子和六个孩子。同时一直在策划谋杀。那些跪地叩拜的家伙,现在这名字好,他们看起来总是可疑,鬼鬼祟祟。他们也不是正直的生意人。哦,不,她不在这儿:花:不,不。顺便问一下,我把那个信封撕了吗?是的:桥下。神父正在冲洗圣杯:然后麻利地倒掉残渣。酒。让它更贵族化,比如如果他喝他们习惯的吉尼斯黑啤或某种禁酒饮料惠特利的都柏林啤酒花苦精或坎特雷尔和科克伦的姜汁汽水(芳香型)。不给他们任何酒:展示酒:只有别的。冷安慰。虔诚的欺骗,但很正确:否则他们会有一个老酒鬼比另一个更糟,跑来乞求一杯酒。整个气氛很奇怪。完全正确。布卢姆先生回头望向唱诗班。不会有音乐。可惜。不知道这儿谁弹管风琴?老格林知道怎么让那乐器说话,颤音:据说他在加德纳街一年有五十英镑。那天莫莉嗓音很好,罗西尼的《圣母悼歌》。先是伯纳德·沃恩神父的布道。基督还是彼拉多?基督,但别让我们整晚谈这个。他们想要音乐。脚踏鼓停了。静得能听见针掉地。我告诉她让声音对着那个角落。我能感到空气中的震颤,饱满,人们抬头的目光:Quis est homo。有些古老圣乐很壮观。梅尔卡丹特:临终七言。

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oblivion /əˈblɪviən/
n. 遗忘;被完全忘记的状态;湮没
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apparition /ˌæpəˈrɪʃn/
n. 鬼魂;幽灵;突然出现的奇景
🔊 Mozarts twelfth mass: Gloria in that. Those old popes keen on music, on art and statues and pictures of all kinds. Palestrina for example too. They had a gay old time while it lasted. Healthy too, chanting, regular hours, then brew liqueurs. Benedictine. Green Chartreuse. Still, having eunuchs in their choir that was coming it a bit thick. What kind of voice is it? Must be curious to hear after their own strong basses. Connoisseurs. Suppose they wouldnt feel anything after. Kind of a placid. No worry. Fall into flesh, dont they? Gluttons, tall, long legs. Who knows? Eunuch. One way out of it. He saw the priest bend down and kiss the altar and then face about and bless all the people. All crossed themselves and stood up. Mr Bloom glanced about him and then stood up, looking over the risen hats. Stand up at the gospel of course. Then all settled down on their knees again and he sat back quietly in his bench. The priest came down from the altar, holding the thing out from him, and he and the massboy answered each other in Latin. Then the priest knelt down and began to read off a card: -O God, our refuge and our strength... Mr Bloom put his face forward to catch the words. English. Throw them the bone. I remember slightly. How long since your last mass? Glorious and immaculate virgin. Joseph, her spouse. Peter and Paul. More interesting if you understood what it was all about. Wonderful organisation certainly, goes like clockwork. Confession. Everyone wants to. Then I will tell you all. Penance. Punish me, please. Great weapon in their hands. More than doctor or solicitor. Woman dying to. And I schschschschschsch. And did you chachachachacha? And why did you? Look down at her ring to find an excuse. Whispering gallery walls have ears. Husband learn to his surprise. Gods little joke. Then out she comes. Repentance skindeep. Lovely shame. Pray at an altar. Hail Mary and Holy Mary. Flowers, incense, candles melting. Hide her blushes. Salvation army blatant imitation. Reformed prostitute will address the meeting. How I found the Lord. Squareheaded chaps those must be in Rome: they work the whole show. And dont they rake in the money too? Bequests also: to the P.P. for the time being in his absolute discretion. Masses for the repose of my soul to be said publicly with open doors. Monasteries and convents. The priest in that Fermanagh will case in the witnessbox. No browbeating him. He had his answer pat for everything. Liberty and exaltation of our holy mother the church. The doctors of the church: they mapped out the whole theology of it. The priest prayed: -Blessed Michael, archangel, defend us in the hour of conflict.

莫扎特的第十二弥撒:荣耀经在其中。那些老教皇热爱音乐、艺术、雕像和各种画作。例如帕莱斯特里纳也是。他们玩得很开心。健康,唱歌,作息规律,然后酿造利口酒。本笃会。绿色查特酒。不过,唱诗班里有阉人,这就有点过分了。那是什么声音?听过他们自己有力的男低音后再听一定很奇怪。鉴赏家。假设他们之后什么也感觉不到。一种平静。无忧无虑。堕入肉体,不是吗?暴食者,高个子,长腿。谁知道?阉人。一种出路。他看见神父弯腰亲吻祭坛,然后转身祝福所有人。所有人都画十字并站起来。布卢姆先生环顾四周,然后站起来,越过竖起的帽子望。当然,福音时要起立。然后所有人又跪下,他安静地坐回长凳上。神父从祭坛下来,手里拿着东西伸出去,他和辅祭男孩用拉丁文对答。然后神父跪下,开始读一张卡片:“哦,上帝,我们的避难所和力量……”布卢姆先生把脸凑近些,想听清词句。英语。扔根骨头给他们。我隐约记得。上次参加弥撒是多久以前?光荣无染的原罪贞女。约瑟,她的丈夫。彼得和保罗。如果你明白这一切是什么,会更有趣。当然,组织得很好,像钟表一样运转。告解。每个人都想。然后我会告诉你一切。赎罪。请惩罚我。他们手中的利器,比医生或律师还厉害。女人渴望。然后我嘘嘘嘘嘘嘘。你查查查查查?为什么?低头看她的戒指找借口。耳语廊的墙壁有耳朵。丈夫惊讶地发现。上帝的小玩笑。然后她出来。悔恨在皮肤表层。可爱的羞愧。在祭坛祈祷。万福玛利亚和圣母玛利亚。鲜花,香,蜡烛融化。掩饰她的脸红。救世军拙劣的模仿。改过自新的妓女会向集会演说。我是如何找到主的。罗马那些一定都是方脑袋的人:他们操纵整个演出。他们不也大捞一笔吗?还有遗赠:给当时在任的教区神父,由其绝对酌情处理。为我的灵魂安息做弥撒,公开举行,敞开大门。修道院和女修道院。那个弗马纳遗嘱案中证人席上的神父。没人能吓倒他。他对答如流。我们神圣母亲教会的自由和尊崇。教会的医生:他们描绘了整个神学体系。神父祈祷:“圣米迦勒,天使长,在交战时保护我们。”

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eunuchs /ˈjuːnəks/
n. 宦官;太监;被阉割的男子
🔊
placid /ˈplæsɪd/
adj. 平静的;温和的;不易被激怒的
🔊 Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil (may God restrain him, we humbly pray!): and do thou, O prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God thrust Satan down to hell and with him those other wicked spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls. The priest and the massboy stood up and walked off. All over. The women remained behind: thanksgiving. Better be shoving along. Brother Buzz. Come around with the plate perhaps. Pay your Easter duty. He stood up. Hello. Were those two buttons of my waistcoat open all the time? Women enjoy it. Never tell you. But we. Excuse, miss, theres a (whh!) just a (whh!) fluff. Or their skirt behind, placket unhooked. Glimpses of the moon. Annoyed if you dont. Why didnt you tell me before. Still like you better untidy. Good job it wasnt farther south. He passed, discreetly buttoning, down the aisle and out through the main door into the light. He stood a moment unseeing by the cold black marble bowl while before him and behind two worshippers dipped furtive hands in the low tide of holy water. Trams: a car of Prescotts dyeworks: a widow in her weeds. Notice because Im in mourning myself. He covered himself. How goes the time? Quarter past. Time enough yet. Better get that lotion made up. Where is this? Ah yes, the last time. Swenys in Lincoln place. Chemists rarely move. Their green and gold beaconjars too heavy to stir. Hamilton Longs, founded in the year of the flood. Huguenot churchyard near there. Visit some day. He walked southward along Westland row. But the recipe is in the other trousers. O, and I forgot that latchkey too. Bore this funeral affair. O well, poor fellow, its not his fault. When was it I got it made up last? Wait. I changed a sovereign I remember. First of the month it must have been or the second. O, he can look it up in the prescriptions book. The chemist turned back page after page. Sandy shrivelled smell he seems to have. Shrunken skull. And old. Quest for the philosophers stone. The alchemists. Drugs age you after mental excitement. Lethargy then. Why? Reaction. A lifetime in a night. Gradually changes your character. Living all the day among herbs, ointments, disinfectants. All his alabaster lilypots. Mortar and pestle. Aq. Dist. Fol. Laur. Te Virid. Smell almost cure you like the dentists doorbell. Doctor Whack. He ought to physic himself a bit. Electuary or emulsion. The first fellow that picked an herb to cure himself had a bit of pluck. Simples. Want to be careful. Enough stuff here to chloroform you. Test: turns blue litmus paper red. Chloroform. Overdose of laudanum. Sleeping draughts. Lovephiltres. Paragoric poppysyrup bad for cough. Clogs the pores or the phlegm. Poisons the only cures. Remedy where you least expect it.

“做我们的盾牌,抵御魔鬼的邪恶和陷阱(愿上帝约束他,我们谦卑地祈祷!):还有你,天军的君王,以上帝的力量,将撒旦打倒地狱,以及那些游走世间毁灭灵魂的邪恶幽灵。”神父和辅祭男孩站起来走了。全都结束了。女人们留在后面:感恩。最好走了。嗡嗡兄弟。可能会端着盘子过来。履行你的复活节义务。他站起来。你好。我背心那两颗扣子一直开着?女人们喜欢看。从不告诉你。但我们。对不起,小姐,有个(呼呼!)只是一点(呼呼!)绒毛。或者她们裙子后面,开叉没扣好。月亮的瞥见。如果你不说会生气。你为什么不早告诉我。不过还是喜欢你邋遢的样子。幸好不是在更南边的位置。他经过时悄悄扣好扣子,走下过道,从正门出去,步入光亮中。他在冰冷的黑色大理石圣水盆旁站了片刻,茫然无神,他的前后各有一个信徒偷偷地把手浸入圣水的浅潮中。电车:普雷斯科特染坊的车:一个穿丧服的寡妇。注意到是因为我自己也在服丧。他戴上帽子。几点了?过一刻。时间还够。最好把药水配好。这是哪儿?啊,是的,上次。林肯广场的斯韦尼药店。药剂师很少搬家。他们的绿金色标志罐太重,挪不动。汉密尔顿·朗的药店,洪水那年建立的。附近的胡格诺教堂墓地。哪天去拜访。他沿着韦斯特兰巷向南走。但药方在另一条裤子里。哦,还有那把弹簧锁钥匙我也忘了。讨厌的葬礼这档子事。哦,好吧,可怜的家伙,不是他的错。上次配药是什么时候?等等。我记得换了一枚金币。一定是月初或二号。哦,他可以在处方簿上查。药剂师一页页往回翻。他看起来有种沙土干瘪的气味。萎缩的头骨。老了。寻找贤者之石。炼金术士。药物在精神兴奋后让你老化。然后昏睡。为什么?反应。一夜之间一生。逐渐改变你的性格。整天与草药、药膏、消毒剂为伍。他那些雪花石百合花罐。研钵和杵。Aq. Dist. Fol. Laur. Te Virid. 气味几乎能治好你,就像牙医的门铃。Whack医生。他该给自己开点药。药糖剂或乳剂。第一个采药给自己治病的人有点胆量。草药。要小心。这里有足够把你麻醉的东西。测试:蓝石蕊试纸变红。氯仿。过量鸦片酊。安眠药水。爱情魔药。复方鸦片樟脑酊,对咳嗽不好。堵塞毛孔或痰。毒药才是唯一解药。在你最意想不到的地方。

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furtive /ˈfɜːtɪv/
adj. 偷偷摸摸的;鬼鬼祟祟的
🔊 Clever of nature. -About a fortnight ago, sir? -Yes, Mr Bloom said. He waited by the counter, inhaling slowly the keen reek of drugs, the dusty dry smell of sponges and loofahs. Lot of time taken up telling your aches and pains. -Sweet almond oil and tincture of benzoin, Mr Bloom said, and then orangeflower water... It certainly did make her skin so delicate white like wax. -And white wax also, he said. Brings out the darkness of her eyes. Looking at me, the sheet up to her eyes, Spanish, smelling herself, when I was fixing the links in my cuffs. Those homely recipes are often the best: strawberries for the teeth: nettles and rainwater: oatmeal they say steeped in buttermilk. Skinfood. One of the old queens sons, duke of Albany was it? had only one skin. Leopold, yes. Three we have. Warts, bunions and pimples to make it worse. But you want a perfume too. What perfume does your? Peau dEspagne. That orangeflower water is so fresh. Nice smell these soaps have. Pure curd soap. Time to get a bath round the corner. Hammam. Turkish. Massage. Dirt gets rolled up in your navel. Nicer if a nice girl did it. Also I think I. Yes I. Do it in the bath. Curious longing I. Water to water. Combine business with pleasure. Pity no time for massage. Feel fresh then all the day. Funeral be rather glum. -Yes, sir, the chemist said. That was two and nine. Have you brought a bottle? -No, Mr Bloom said. Make it up, please. Ill call later in the day and Ill take one of these soaps. How much are they? -Fourpence, sir. Mr Bloom raised a cake to his nostrils. Sweet lemony wax. -Ill take this one, he said. That makes three and a penny. -Yes, sir, the chemist said. You can pay all together, sir, when you come back. -Good, Mr Bloom said. He strolled out of the shop, the newspaper baton under his armpit, the coolwrappered soap in his left hand. At his armpit Bantam Lyonsvoice and hand said: -Hello, Bloom. Whats the best news? Is that todays? Show us a minute. Shaved off his moustache again, by Jove! Long cold upper lip. To look younger. He does look balmy. Younger than I am. Bantam Lyonss yellow blacknailed fingers unrolled the baton. Wants a wash too. Take off the rough dirt. Good morning, have you used Pearssoap? Dandruff on his shoulders. Scalp wants oiling. -I want to see about that French horse thats running today, Bantam Lyons said. Where the bugger is it? He rustled the pleated pages, jerking his chin on his high collar. Barbers itch. Tight collar hell lose his hair. Better leave him the paper and get shut of him. -You can keep it, Mr Bloom said. -Ascot. Gold cup. Wait, Bantam Lyons muttered. Half a mo. Maximum the second. -I was just going to throw it away, Mr Bloom said. Bantam Lyons raised his eyes suddenly and leered weakly. -Whats that?

大自然真聪明。“大约两周前,先生?”“是的,”布卢姆先生说。他等在柜台旁,慢慢吸着呛人的药味,海绵和丝瓜络的干尘味。花很多时间讲述你的疼痛。 “甜杏仁油和安息香酊,”布卢姆先生说,“然后是橙花水……”那确实让她的皮肤变得如蜡般细腻白皙。“还有白蜡,”他说。“衬托出她眼睛的深色。她看着我,床单拉到眼睛处,西班牙人,闻着自己,那时我正在扣袖扣。那些家常秘方往往是最好的:草莓洁牙:荨麻和雨水:他们说泡在酪乳里的燕麦片。皮肤食品。老女王的一个儿子,奥尔巴尼公爵?只有一层皮肤。利奥波德,是的。我们有三个。疣、拇囊炎和疙瘩让情况更糟。但你也需要香水。你用什么香水?西班牙皮。那橙花水如此清新。这些肥皂有好闻的香味。纯凝乳皂。该去拐角洗个澡了。哈曼。土耳其浴。按摩。脏东西会卷进肚脐。要是一个漂亮姑娘来做就更好了。而且我想我也……是的,我……在浴缸里做。奇怪的渴望。水与水。工作娱乐两不误。可惜没时间按摩。然后一整天都精神清爽。葬礼会很沉闷。“是的,先生,”药剂师说。“那是两先令九便士。你带瓶子来了吗?”“没有,”布卢姆先生说。“请配好吧。我晚点来取,再拿一块肥皂。多少钱?”“四便士,先生。”布卢姆先生把一块肥皂举到鼻孔前。甜柠檬味蜡。“我拿这块,”他说。“一共三先令一便士。”“是的,先生,”药剂师说。“你回来时可以一起付,先生。”“好的,”布卢姆先生说。他溜达出店,报纸卷夹在腋下,左手拿着冰凉包装的肥皂。在他腋下,班塔姆·莱昂斯的声音和手说:“你好,布鲁姆。有什么好消息?那是今天的吗?给我看看。又把胡子剃了,天哪!又长又冷的上唇。显得年轻。他看起来确实有点糊涂。比我还年轻。班塔姆·莱昂斯黄色黑指甲的手指展开报纸卷。也想洗洗。去掉粗污垢。早上好,你用过皮尔牌肥皂吗?他肩膀上有头皮屑。头皮需要擦油。“我想看看今天跑的那匹法国马,”班塔姆·莱昂斯说。“该死的,在哪?”他沙沙地翻着折页,下巴顶在高领上。理发师痒。领子太紧他会掉头发。最好把报纸给他,甩掉他。“你留着吧,”布卢姆先生说。“阿斯科特。金杯。等等,”班塔姆·莱昂斯嘟囔道。“等一下。马克西姆第二。”“我正好要扔掉,”布卢姆先生说。班塔姆·莱昂斯突然抬起眼睛,虚弱地斜眼瞥着。“什么?”

🔊
fortnight /ˈfɔːtnaɪt/
n. 两星期
🔊
tincture /ˈtɪŋktʃə(r)/
n. 酊剂(药物酒精溶液);微量;色彩
🔊 his sharp voice said. -I say you can keep it, Mr Bloom answered. I was going to throw it away that moment. Bantam Lyons doubted an instant, leering: then thrust the outspread sheets back on Mr Blooms arms. -Ill risk it, he said. Here, thanks. He sped off towards Conways corner. God speed scut. Mr Bloom folded the sheets again to a neat square and lodged the soap in it, smiling. Silly lips of that chap. Betting. Regular hotbed of it lately. Messenger boys stealing to put on sixpence. Raffle for large tender turkey. Your Christmas dinner for threepence. Jack Fleming embezzling to gamble then smuggled off to America. Keeps a hotel now. They never come back. Fleshpots of Egypt. He walked cheerfully towards the mosque of the baths. Remind you of a mosque, redbaked bricks, the minarets. College sports today I see. He eyed the horseshoe poster over the gate of college park: cyclist doubled up like a cod in a pot. Damn bad ad. Now if they had made it round like a wheel. Then the spokes: sports, sports, sports: and the hub big: college. Something to catch the eye. Theres Hornblower standing at the porters lodge. Keep him on hands: might take a turn in there on the nod. How do you do, Mr Hornblower? How do you do, sir? Heavenly weather really. If life was always like that. Cricket weather. Sit around under sunshades. Over after over. Out. They cant play it here. Duck for six wickets. Still Captain Culler broke a window in the Kildare street club with a slog to square leg. Donnybrook fair more in their line. And the skulls we were acracking when MCarthy took the floor. Heatwave. Wont last. Always passing, the stream of life, which in the stream of life we trace is dearer than them all. Enjoy a bath now: clean trough of water, cool enamel, the gentle tepid stream. This is my body. He foresaw his pale body reclined in it at full, naked, in a womb of warmth, oiled by scented melting soap, softly laved. He saw his trunk and limbs riprippled over and sustained, buoyed lightly upward, lemonyellow: his navel, bud of flesh: and saw the dark tangled curls of his bush floating, floating hair of the stream around the limp father of thousands, a languid floating flower.

他尖声道。“我说你可以留着,”布卢姆先生回答。“我正要扔掉。”班塔姆·莱昂斯犹豫了一下,斜眼瞥着:然后把摊开的报纸塞回布卢姆先生怀里。“我冒个险,”他说。“给,谢谢。”他快步朝康韦街角跑去。上帝保佑这无赖。布卢姆先生又把报纸折成整齐的方块,把肥皂夹在里面,微笑着。那家伙愚蠢的嘴唇。赌博。最近成了温床。送信的孩子偷钱押六便士。抽奖得大嫩火鸡。三便士的圣诞晚餐。杰克·弗莱明挪用公款赌博,然后偷渡到美国。现在开了家旅馆。他们从不回来。埃及的肉锅。他愉快地朝浴场清真寺走去。提醒你清真寺,红砖,宣礼塔。我看到今天是大学运动会。他盯着大学公园大门上的马蹄铁形海报:自行车手蜷缩着像锅里的鳕鱼。糟透的广告。如果他们做成圆形像车轮。然后辐条:运动,运动,运动:中心大:学院。引人注目。霍恩布洛尔站在门房那儿。稳住他:说不定能点头同意进去转转。你好,霍恩布洛尔先生?你好,先生?真是天堂般的天气。如果生活总是那样。板球天气。坐在遮阳伞下。一轮接一轮。出局。他们在这儿打不好。鸭子六柱。但卡勒队长在基尔代尔街俱乐部一个上旋球打碎了一扇窗户。唐尼布鲁克集市更对他们的口味。还有麦卡锡占上风时我们打破的头骨。热浪。不会持久。总是流逝,生命之流,在生命之流中我们追寻的,比一切都珍贵。现在享受个澡:干净的浴水,凉爽的搪瓷,温和的温热水流。这是我的身体。他预见到他苍白的身体完全躺在里面,赤裸,在温暖的子宫里,被芳香的溶化肥皂涂抹,轻轻冲洗。他看到他的躯干和四肢被涟漪覆盖,轻轻托起,柠檬黄:他的肚脐,肉芽:看到他那丛暗色卷曲的毛漂浮着,漂浮在溪流中的头发,环绕着那萎靡的千父之父,一朵慵懒漂浮的花。

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hotbed /ˈhɒtbed/
n. (坏事或某种活动的)温床;滋生地
🔊
mosque /mɒsk/
n. 清真寺
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