Bloom
O.
Bloom
Beware of pickpockets. Old thieves dodge. Collide. Then snatch your purse.
Rudolph
Second halfcrown waste money today. I told you not go with drunken goy ever. So. You catch no money.
Bloom
(Hides the crubeen and trotter behind his back and, crestfallen, feels warm and cold feetmeat.) Ja, ich weiss, papachi.
Rudolph
What you making down this place? Have you no soul? (With feeble vulture talons he feels the silent face of Bloom.) Are you not my son Leopold, the grand son of Leopold? Are you not my dear son Leopold who left the house of his father and left the god of his fathers Abraham and Jacob?
Bloom
(With precaution.) I suppose so, father. Mosenthal. All that’s left of him.
Rudolph
(Severely.) One night they bring you home drunk as dog after spend your good money. What you call them running chaps?