u15_circe.xml

<div type="episode" n="15">
<stage><lb n="150001"/>(The Mabbot street entrance of nighttown, before which stretches
<lb n="150002"/>an uncobbled tramsiding set with skeleton tracks, red and green
<lb n="150003"/>will-o'-the-wisps and danger signals. Rows of grimy houses with
<lb n="150004"/>gaping doors. Rare lamps with faint rainbow fans. Round
<lb n="150005"/>Rabaiotti's halted ice gondola stunted men and women squabble.
<lb n="150006"/>They grab wafers between which are wedged lumps of coral and
<lb n="150007"/>copper snow. Sucking, they scatter slowly, children. The swancomb
<lb n="150008"/>of the gondola, highreared, forges on through the murk, white and
<lb n="150009"/>blue under a lighthouse. Whistles call and answer.)</stage>
<sp who="The Call"><speaker><lb n="150010"/>The Call</speaker>
<p><lb n="150011"/>Wait, my love, and I'll be with you.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Answer"><speaker><lb n="150012"/>The Answer</speaker>
<p><lb n="150013"/>Round behind the stable.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150014"/>(A deafmute idiot with goggle eyes, his shapeless mouth dribbling,
<lb n="150015"/>jerks past, shaken in Saint Vitus' dance. A chain of children's hands
<lb n="150016"/>imprisons him.)</stage>
<sp who="The Children"><speaker><lb n="150017"/>The Children</speaker>
<p><lb n="150018"/>Kithogue! Salute!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Idiot"><speaker><lb n="150019"/>The Idiot</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150020"/>(lifts a palsied left arm and gurgles)</stage> Ghahute!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Children"><speaker><lb n="150021"/>The Children</speaker>
<p><lb n="150022"/>Where's the great light?</p></sp>
<sp who="The Idiot"><speaker><lb n="150023"/>The Idiot</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150024"/>(gobbling)</stage> Ghaghahest.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150025"/>(They release him. He jerks on. A pigmy woman swings on a rope
<lb n="150026"/>slung between two railings, counting. A form sprawled against a
<lb n="150027"/>dustbin and muffled by its arm and hat snores, groans, grinding
<lb n="150028"/>growling teeth, and snores again. On a step a gnome totting among
<lb n="150029"/>a rubbishtip crouches to shoulder a sack of rags and bones. A crone
<lb n="150030"/>standing by with a smoky oillamp rams her last bottle in the maw of
<lb n="150031"/>his sack. He heaves his booty, tugs askew his peaked cap and
<lb n="150032"/>hobbles off mutely. The crone makes back for her lair, swaying her
<lb n="150033"/>lamp. A bandy child, asquat on the doorstep with a paper
<lb n="150034"/>shuttlecock, crawls sidling after her in spurts, clutches her skirt,
<lb n="150035"/>scrambles up. A drunken navvy grips with both hands the railings
<lb n="150036"/>of an area, lurching heavily. At a corner two night watch in
<lb n="150037"/>shouldercapes, their hands upon their staffholsters, loom tall. A
<lb n="150038"/>plate crashes: a woman screams: a child wails. Oaths of a man
<lb n="150039"/>roar, mutter, cease. Figures wander, lurk, peer from warrens. In a
<lb n="150040"/>room lit by a candle stuck in a bottleneck a slut combs out the tatts
<lb n="150041"/>from the hair of a scrofulous child. Cissy Caffrey's voice, still
<lb n="150042"/>young, sings shrill from a lane.)</stage>
<sp who="ccaff"><speaker><lb n="150043"/>Cissy Caffrey</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="150044"/><l>I gave it to Molly</l>
<lb n="150045"/><l>Because she was jolly,</l>
<lb n="150046"/><l>The leg of the duck,</l>
<lb n="150047"/><l>The leg of the duck.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<stage><lb n="150048"/>(Private Carr and Private Compton, swaggersticks tight in their
<lb n="150049"/>oxters, as they march unsteadily rightaboutface and burst together
<lb n="150050"/>from their mouths a volleyed fart. Laughter of men from the lane. A
<lb n="150051"/>hoarse virago retorts.)</stage>
<sp who="The Virago"><speaker><lb n="150052"/>The Virago</speaker>
<p><lb n="150053"/>Signs on you, hairy arse. More power the Cavan girl.</p></sp>
<sp who="ccaff"><speaker><lb n="150054"/>Cissy Caffrey</speaker>
<p><lb n="150055"/>More luck to me. Cavan, Cootehill and Belturbet.<stage>(she sings)</stage></p>
<quote><lg><lb n="150056"/><l>I gave it to Nelly</l>
<lb n="150057"/><l>To stick in her belly,</l>
<lb n="150058"/><l>The leg of the duck,</l>
<lb n="150059"/><l>The leg of the duck.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<stage><lb n="150060"/>(Private Carr and Private Compton turn and counterretort, their
<lb n="150061"/>tunics bloodbright in a lampglow, black sockets of caps on their
<lb n="150062"/>blond cropped polls. Stephen Dedalus and Lynch pass through the
<lb n="150063"/>crowd close to the redcoats.)</stage>
<sp who="Private Compton"><speaker><lb n="150064"/>Private Compton</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150065"/>(jerks his finger)</stage> Way for the parson.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="150066"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150067"/>(turns and calls)</stage> What ho, parson!</p></sp>
<sp who="ccaff"><speaker><lb n="150068"/>Cissy Caffrey</speaker>
<stage><lb n="150069"/>(her voice soaring higher)</stage>
<quote><lg><lb n="150070"/><l>She has it, she got it,</l>
<lb n="150071"/><l>Wherever she put it,</l>
<lb n="150072"/><l>The leg of the duck.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<stage><lb n="150073"/>(Stephen, flourishing the ashplant in his left hand, chants with joy
<lb n="150074"/>the <foreign xml:lang="la">introit</foreign> for paschal time. Lynch, his jockeycap low on his brow,
<lb n="150075"/>attends him, a sneer of discontent wrinkling his face.)</stage>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="150076"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="la"><lb n="150077"/>Vidi aquam egredientem de templo a latere dextro. Alleluia.</foreign></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150078"/>(The famished snaggletusks of an elderly bawd protrude from a
<lb n="150079"/>doorway.)</stage>
<sp who="The Bawd"><speaker><lb n="150080"/>The Bawd</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150081"/>(her voice whispering huskily)</stage> Sst! Come here till I tell you. Maidenhead
<lb n="150082"/>inside. Sst!</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="150083"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150084"/>(altius aliquantulum)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="la">Et omnes ad quos pervenit aqua ista.</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="The Bawd"><speaker><lb n="150085"/>The Bawd</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150086"/>(spits in their trail her jet of venom)</stage> Trinity medicals. Fallopian tube. All
<lb n="150087"/>prick and no pence.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150088"/>(Edy Boardman, sniffling, crouched with Bertha Supple, draws her
<lb n="150089"/>shawl across her nostrils.)</stage>
<sp who="edb"><speaker><lb n="150090"/>Edy Boardman</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150091"/>(bickering)</stage> And says the one: I seen you up Faithful place with your
<lb n="150092"/>squarepusher, the greaser off the railway, in his cometobed hat. Did you,
<lb n="150093"/>says I. That's not for you to say, says I. You never seen me in the mantrap
<lb n="150094"/>with a married highlander, says I. The likes of her! Stag that one is!
<lb n="150095"/>Stubborn as a mule! And her walking with two fellows the one time,
<lb n="150096"/>Kilbride, the enginedriver, and lancecorporal Oliphant.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="150097"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150098"/>(triumphaliter)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="la">Salvi facti sunt.</foreign></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150099"/>(He flourishes his ashplant, shivering the lamp image, shattering
<lb n="150100"/>light over the world. A liver and white spaniel on the prowl slinks
<lb n="150101"/>after him, growling. Lynch scares it with a kick.)</stage>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="150102"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150103"/>So that?</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="150104"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150105"/>(looks behind)</stage> So that gesture, not music not odour, would be a universal
<lb n="150106"/>language, the gift of tongues rendering visible not the lay sense but the first
<lb n="150107"/>entelechy, the structural rhythm.</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="150108"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150109"/>Pornosophical philotheology. Metaphysics in Mecklenburgh street!</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="150110"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="150111"/>We have shrewridden Shakespeare and henpecked Socrates. Even the
<lb n="150112"/>allwisest Stagyrite was bitted, bridled and mounted by a light of love.</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="150113"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150114"/>Ba!</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="150115"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="150116"/>Anyway, who wants two gestures to illustrate a loaf and a jug? This
<lb n="150117"/>movement illustrates the loaf and jug of bread or wine in Omar. Hold my
<lb n="150118"/>stick.</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="150119"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150120"/>Damn your yellow stick. Where are we going?</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="150121"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="150122"/>Lecherous lynx, to <foreign xml:lang="fr">la belle dame sans merci</foreign>, Georgina Johnson, <foreign xml:lang="la">ad deam qui
<lb n="150123"/>laetificat iuventutem meam</foreign>.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150124"/>(Stephen thrusts the ashplant on him and slowly holds out his
<lb n="150125"/>hands, his head going back till both hands are a span from his
<lb n="150126"/>breast, down turned, in planes intersecting, the fingers about to
<lb n="150127"/>part, the left being higher.)</stage>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="150128"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150129"/>Which is the jug of bread? It skills not. That or the customhouse. Illustrate
<lb n="150130"/>thou. Here take your crutch and walk.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150131"/>(They pass. Tommy Caffrey scrambles to a gaslamp and, clasping,
<lb n="150132"/>climbs in spasms. From the top spur he slides down. Jacky Caffrey
<lb n="150133"/>clasps to climb. The navvy lurches against the lamp. The twins
<lb n="150134"/>scuttle off in the dark. The navvy, swaying, presses a forefinger
<lb n="150135"/>against a wing of his nose and ejects from the farther nostril a long
<lb n="150136"/>liquid jet of snot. Shouldering the lamp he staggers away through
<lb n="150137"/>the crowd with his flaring cresset.</stage>
<stage><lb n="150138"/>Snakes of river fog creep slowly. From drains, clefts, cesspools,
<lb n="150139"/>middens arise on all sides stagnant fumes. A glow leaps in the south
<lb n="150140"/>beyond the seaward reaches of the river. The navvy, staggering
<lb n="150141"/>forward, cleaves the crowd and lurches towards the tramsiding. On
<lb n="150142"/>the farther side under the railway bridge Bloom appears, flushed,
<lb n="150143"/>panting, cramming bread and chocolate into a sidepocket. From
<lb n="150144"/>Gillen's hairdresser's window a composite portrait shows him
<lb n="150145"/>gallant Nelson's image. A concave mirror at the side presents to him
<lb n="150146"/>lovelorn longlost <distinct xml:id="#150146-lugubru">lugubru</distinct> Booloohoom. Grave Gladstone sees him
<lb n="150147"/>level, Bloom for Bloom. He passes, struck by the stare of truculent
<lb n="150148"/>Wellington, but in the convex mirror grin unstruck the bonham eyes
<lb n="150149"/>and fatchuck cheekchops of jollypoldy the rixdix doldy.</stage>
<stage><lb n="150150"/>At Antonio Rabaiotti's door Bloom halts, sweated under the bright
<lb n="150151"/>arclamp. He disappears. In a moment he reappears and hurries
<lb n="150152"/>on.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150153"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150154"/>Fish and taters. N. g. Ah!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150155"/>(He disappears into Olhausen's, the porkbutcher's, under the
<lb n="150156"/>downcoming rollshutter. A few moments later he emerges from
<lb n="150157"/>under the shutter, puffing Poldy, blowing Bloohoom. In each hand
<lb n="150158"/>he holds a parcel, one containing a lukewarm pig's crubeen, the
<lb n="150159"/>other a cold sheep's trotter, sprinkled with wholepepper. He gasps,
<lb n="150160"/>standing upright. Then bending to one side he presses a parcel
<lb n="150161"/>against his ribs and groans.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150162"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150163"/>Stitch in my side. Why did I run?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150164"/>(He takes breath with care and goes forward slowly towards the
<lb n="150165"/>lampset siding. The glow leaps again.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150166"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150167"/>What is that? A flasher? Searchlight.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150168"/>(He stands at Cormack's corner, watching.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150169"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="la"><lb n="150170"/>Aurora borealis</foreign> or a steel foundry? Ah, the brigade, of course. South side
<lb n="150171"/>anyhow. Big blaze. Might be his house. Beggar's bush. We're safe. <stage>(he
<lb n="150172"/>hums cheerfully)</stage> London's burning, London's burning! On fire, on fire!
<stage><lb n="150173"/>(he catches sight of the navvy lurching through the crowd at the farther
<lb n="150174"/>side of Talbot street)</stage> I'll miss him. Run. Quick. Better cross here.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150175"/>(He darts to cross the road. Urchins shout.)</stage>
<sp who="The Urchins"><speaker><lb n="150176"/>The Urchins</speaker>
<p><lb n="150177"/>Mind out, mister!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150178"/>(Two cyclists, with lighted paper lanterns aswing, swim by him,
<lb n="150179"/>grazing him, their bells rattling.)</stage>
<sp who="The Bells"><speaker><lb n="150180"/>The Bells</speaker>
<p><lb n="150181"/>Haltyaltyaltyall.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150182"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150183"/>(halts erect, stung by a spasm)</stage> Ow!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150184"/>(He looks round, darts forward suddenly. Through rising fog a
<lb n="150185"/>dragon sandstrewer, travelling at caution, slews heavily down upon
<lb n="150186"/>him, its huge red headlight winking, its trolley hissing on the wire.
<lb n="150187"/>The motorman bangs his footgong.)</stage>
<sp who="igong"><speaker><lb n="150188"/>The Gong</speaker>
<p><lb n="150189"/>Bang Bang Bla Bak Blud Bugg Bloo.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150190"/>(The brake cracks violently. Bloom, raising a policeman's
<lb n="150191"/>whitegloved hand, blunders stifflegged out of the track. The
<lb n="150192"/>motorman, thrown forward, pugnosed, on the guidewheel, yells as
<lb n="150193"/>he slides past over chains and keys.)</stage>
<sp who="The Motorman"><speaker><lb n="150194"/>The Motorman</speaker>
<p><lb n="150195"/>Hey, shitbreeches, are you doing the hat trick?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150196"/>(Bloom trickleaps to the curbstone and halts again. He brushes a
<lb n="150197"/>mudflake from his cheek with a parcelled hand.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150198"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150199"/>No thoroughfare. Close shave that but cured the stitch. Must take up
<lb n="150200"/>Sandow's exercises again. On the hands down. Insure against street
<lb n="150201"/>accident too. The Providential. <stage>(he feels his trouser pocket)</stage> Poor
<lb n="150202"/>mamma's panacea. Heel easily catch in track or bootlace in a cog. Day the
<lb n="150203"/>wheel of the black Maria peeled off my shoe at Leonard's corner. Third
<lb n="150204"/>time is the charm. Shoe trick. Insolent driver. I ought to report him.
<lb n="150205"/>Tension makes them nervous. Might be the fellow balked me this morning
<lb n="150206"/>with that horsey woman. Same style of beauty. Quick of him all the same.
<lb n="150207"/>The stiff walk. True word spoken in jest. That awful cramp in Lad lane.
<lb n="150208"/>Something poisonous I ate. Emblem of luck. Why? Probably lost cattle.
<lb n="150209"/>Mark of the beast. <stage>(he closes his eyes an instant)</stage> Bit light in the head.
<lb n="150210"/>Monthly or effect of the other. Brainfogfag. That tired feeling. Too much
<lb n="150211"/>for me now. Ow!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150212"/>(A sinister figure leans on plaited legs against O'Beirne's wall, a
<lb n="150213"/>visage unknown, injected with dark mercury. From under a
<lb n="150214"/>wideleaved sombrero the figure regards him with evil eye.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150215"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="es"><lb n="150216"/>Bueñas noches, señorita Blanca. Que calle es esta?</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="The Figure"><speaker><lb n="150217"/>The Figure</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150218"/>(impassive, raises a signal arm)</stage> Password. <foreign xml:lang="ga">Sraid Mabbot.</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150219"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150220"/>Haha. <foreign xml:lang="fr">Merci.</foreign> Esperanto. <foreign xml:lang="ga">Slan leath.</foreign> <stage>(he mutters)</stage> Gaelic league spy, sent
<lb n="150221"/>by that fireeater.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150222"/>(He steps forward. A sackshouldered ragman bars his path. He
<lb n="150223"/>steps left, ragsackman left.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150224"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150225"/>I beg.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150226"/>(He leaps right, sackragman right.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150227"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150228"/>I beg.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150229"/>(He swerves, sidles, stepaside, slips past and on.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150230"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150231"/>Keep to the right, right, right. If there is a signpost planted by the Touring
<lb n="150232"/>Club at Stepaside who procured that public boon? I who lost my way and
<lb n="150233"/>contributed to the columns of the <title type="newspaper">Irish Cyclist</title> the letter headed <emph>In darkest
<lb n="150234"/>Stepaside</emph>. Keep, keep, keep to the right. Rags and bones at midnight. A
<lb n="150235"/>fence more likely. First place murderer makes for. Wash off his sins of the
<lb n="150236"/>world.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150237"/>(Jacky Caffrey, hunted by Tommy Caffrey, runs full tilt against
<lb n="150238"/>Bloom.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150239"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150240"/>O.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150241"/>(Shocked, on weak hams, he halts. Tommy and Jacky vanish
<lb n="150242"/>there, there. Bloom pats with parcelled hands watchfob,
<lb n="150243"/>pocketbookpocket, pursepoke, sweets of sin, potatosoap.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150244"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150245"/>Beware of pickpockets. Old thieves' dodge. Collide. Then snatch your
<lb n="150246"/>purse.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150247"/>(The retriever approaches sniffing, nose to the ground. A sprawled
<lb n="150248"/>form sneezes. A stooped bearded figure appears garbed in the long
<lb n="150249"/>caftan of an elder in Zion and a smokingcap with magenta tassels.
<lb n="150250"/>Horned spectacles hang down at the wings of the nose. Yellow
<lb n="150251"/>poison streaks are on the drawn face.)</stage>
<sp who="rb"><speaker><lb n="150252"/>Rudolph</speaker>
<p><lb n="150253"/>Second halfcrown waste money today. I told you not go with drunken goy
<lb n="150254"/>ever. So you catch no money.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150255"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150256"/>(hides the crubeen and trotter behind his back and, crestfallen, feels warm
<lb n="150257"/>and cold feetmeat)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="de">Ja, ich weiss, papachi.</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="rb"><speaker><lb n="150258"/>Rudolph</speaker>
<p><lb n="150259"/>What you making down this place? Have you no soul? <stage>(with feeble vulture
<lb n="150260"/>talons he feels the silent face of Bloom)</stage> Are you not my son Leopold, the
<lb n="150261"/>grandson of Leopold? Are you not my dear son Leopold who left the house
<lb n="150262"/>of his father and left the god of his fathers Abraham and Jacob?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150263"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150264"/>(with precaution)</stage> I suppose so, father. Mosenthal. All that's left of him.</p></sp>
<sp who="rb"><speaker><lb n="150265"/>Rudolph</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150266"/>(severely)</stage> One night they bring you home drunk as dog after spend your
<lb n="150267"/>good money. What you call them running chaps?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150268"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150269"/>(in youth's smart blue Oxford suit with white vestslips, narrowshouldered,
<lb n="150270"/>in brown Alpine hat, wearing gent's sterling silver Waterbury keyless watch
<lb n="150271"/>and double curb Albert with seal attached, one side of him coated with
<lb n="150272"/>stiffening mud)</stage> Harriers, father. Only that once.</p></sp>
<sp who="rb"><speaker><lb n="150273"/>Rudolph</speaker>
<p><lb n="150274"/>Once! Mud head to foot. Cut your hand open. Lockjaw. They make you
<lb n="150275"/>kaputt, Leopoldleben. You watch them chaps.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150276"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150277"/>(weakly)</stage> They challenged me to a sprint. It was muddy. I slipped.</p></sp>
<sp who="rb"><speaker><lb n="150278"/>Rudolph</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150279"/>(with contempt)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="ji">Goim nachez!</foreign> Nice spectacles for your poor mother!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150280"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150281"/>Mamma!</p></sp>
<sp who="eb"><speaker><lb n="150282"/>Ellen Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150283"/>(in pantomime dame's stringed mobcap, widow Twankey's crinoline and
<lb n="150284"/>bustle, blouse with muttonleg sleeves buttoned behind, grey mittens and
<lb n="150285"/>cameo brooch, her plaited hair in a crispine net, appears over the staircase
<lb n="150286"/>banisters, a slanted candlestick in her hand, and cries out in shrill alarm)</stage>
<lb n="150287"/>O blessed Redeemer, what have they done to him! My smelling salts! <stage>(She
<lb n="150288"/>hauls up a reef of skirt and ransacks the pouch of her striped blay petticoat.
<lb n="150289"/>A phial, an Agnus Dei, a shrivelled potato and a celluloid doll fall out.)</stage>
<lb n="150290"/>Sacred Heart of Mary, where were you at all at all?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150291"/>(Bloom, mumbling, his eyes downcast, begins to bestow his parcels
<lb n="150292"/>in his filled pockets but desists, muttering.)</stage>
<sp who="A Voice ALSO Molly Bloom"><speaker><lb n="150293"/>A Voice</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150294"/>(sharply)</stage> Poldy!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150295"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150296"/>Who? <stage>(he ducks and wards off a blow clumsily)</stage> At your service.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150297"/>(He looks up. Beside her mirage of datepalms a handsome woman
<lb n="150298"/>in Turkish costume stands before him. Opulent curves fill out her
<lb n="150299"/>scarlet trousers and jacket, slashed with gold. A wide yellow
<lb n="150300"/>cummerbund girdles her. A white yashmak, violet in the night,
<lb n="150301"/>covers her face, leaving free only her large dark eyes and raven
<lb n="150302"/>hair.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150303"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150304"/>Molly!</p></sp>
<sp who="mb"><speaker><lb n="150305"/>Marion</speaker>
<p><lb n="150306"/>Welly? Mrs Marion from this out, my dear man, when you speak to me.
<stage><lb n="150307"/>(satirically)</stage> Has poor little hubby cold feet waiting so long?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150308"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150309"/>(shifts from foot to foot)</stage> No, no. Not the least little bit.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150310"/>(He breathes in deep agitation, swallowing gulps of air, questions,
<lb n="150311"/>hopes, crubeens for her supper, things to tell her, excuse, desire,
<lb n="150312"/>spellbound. A coin gleams on her forehead. On her feet are jewelled
<lb n="150313"/>toerings. Her ankles are linked by a slender fetterchain. Beside her a
<lb n="150314"/>camel, hooded with a turreting turban, waits. A silk ladder of
<lb n="150315"/>innumerable rungs climbs to his bobbing howdah. He ambles near
<lb n="150316"/>with disgruntled hindquarters. Fiercely she slaps his haunch, her
<lb n="150317"/>goldcurb wristbangles angriling, scolding him in Moorish.)</stage>
<sp who="mb"><speaker><lb n="150318"/>Marion</speaker>
<p><lb n="150319"/>Nebrakada! Femininum!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150320"/>(The camel, lifting a foreleg, plucks from a tree a large mango fruit,
<lb n="150321"/>offers it to his mistress, blinking, in his cloven hoof, then droops his
<lb n="150322"/>head and, grunting, with uplifted neck, fumbles to kneel. Bloom
<lb n="150323"/>stoops his back for leapfrog.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150324"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150325"/>I can give you ... I mean as your business menagerer .. Mrs Marion ..... if
<lb n="150326"/>you ....</p></sp>
<sp who="mb"><speaker><lb n="150327"/>Marion</speaker>
<p><lb n="150328"/>So you notice some change? <stage>(her hands passing slowly over her trinketed
<lb n="150329"/>stomacher, a slow friendly mockery in her eyes)</stage> O Poldy, Poldy, you are a
<lb n="150330"/>poor old stick in the mud! Go and see life. See the wide world.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150331"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150332"/>I was just going back for that lotion whitewax, orangeflower water. Shop
<lb n="150333"/>closes early on Thursday. But the first thing in the morning. <stage>(he pats divers
<lb n="150334"/>pockets)</stage> This moving kidney. Ah!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150335"/>(He points to the south, then to the east. A cake of new clean lemon
<lb n="150336"/>soap arises, diffusing light and perfume.)</stage>
<sp who="The Soap"><speaker><lb n="150337"/>The Soap</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="150338"/><l>We're a capital couple are Bloom and I.</l>
<lb n="150339"/><l>He brightens the earth. I polish the sky.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<stage><lb n="150340"/>(The freckled face of Sweny, the druggist, appears in the disc of the
<lb n="150341"/>soapsun.)</stage>
<sp who="fwsy"><speaker><lb n="150342"/>Sweny</speaker>
<p><lb n="150343"/>Three and a penny, please.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150344"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150345"/>Yes. For my wife. Mrs Marion. Special recipe.</p></sp>
<sp who="mb"><speaker><lb n="150346"/>Marion</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150347"/>(softly)</stage> Poldy!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150348"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150349"/>Yes, ma'am?</p></sp>
<sp who="mb"><speaker><lb n="150350"/>Marion</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="it"><lb n="150351"/>Ti trema un poco il cuore?</foreign></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150352"/>(In disdain she saunters away, humming the duet from <title type="opera">Don
<lb n="150353"/>Giovanni</title>, plump as a pampered pouter pigeon.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150354"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150355"/>Are you sure about that <foreign xml:lang="it">Voglio</foreign>? I mean the pronunciati ....</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150356"/>(He follows, followed by the sniffing terrier. The elderly bawd
<lb n="150357"/>seizes his sleeve, the bristles of her chinmole glittering.)</stage>
<sp who="The Bawd"><speaker><lb n="150358"/>The Bawd</speaker>
<p><lb n="150359"/>Ten shillings a maidenhead. Fresh thing was never touched. Fifteen. There's
<lb n="150360"/>no-one in it only her old father that's dead drunk.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150361"/>(She points. In the gap of her dark den furtive, rainbedraggled,
<lb n="150362"/>Bridie Kelly stands.)</stage>
<sp who="bk"><speaker><lb n="150363"/>Bridie</speaker>
<p><lb n="150364"/>Hatch street. Any good in your mind?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150365"/>(With a squeak she flaps her bat shawl and runs. A burly rough
<lb n="150366"/>pursues with booted strides. He stumbles on the steps, recovers,
<lb n="150367"/>plunges into gloom. Weak squeaks of laughter are heard, weaker.)</stage>
<sp who="The Bawd"><speaker><lb n="150368"/>The Bawd</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150369"/>(her wolfeyes shining)</stage> He's getting his pleasure. You won't get a virgin in
<lb n="150370"/>the flash houses. Ten shillings. Don't be all night before the polis in plain
<lb n="150371"/>clothes sees us. Sixtyseven is a bitch.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150372"/>(Leering, Gerty MacDowell limps forward. She draws from behind,
<lb n="150373"/>ogling, and shows coyly her bloodied clout.)</stage>
<sp who="gmd"><speaker><lb n="150374"/>Gerty</speaker>
<p><lb n="150375"/>With all my worldly goods I thee and thou. <stage>(she murmurs)</stage> You did that. I
<lb n="150376"/>hate you.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150377"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150378"/>I? When? You're dreaming. I never saw you.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Bawd"><speaker><lb n="150379"/>The Bawd</speaker>
<p><lb n="150380"/>Leave the gentleman alone, you cheat. Writing the gentleman false letters.
<lb n="150381"/>Streetwalking and soliciting. Better for your mother take the strap to you at
<lb n="150382"/>the bedpost, hussy like you.</p></sp>
<sp who="gmd"><speaker><lb n="150383"/>Gerty</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150384"/>(to Bloom)</stage> When you saw all the secrets of my bottom drawer. <stage>(she paws
<lb n="150385"/>his sleeve, slobbering)</stage> Dirty married man! I love you for doing that to me.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150386"/>(She glides away crookedly. Mrs Breen in man's frieze overcoat
<lb n="150387"/>with loose bellows pockets, stands in the causeway, her roguish eyes
<lb n="150388"/>wideopen, smiling in all her herbivorous buckteeth.)</stage>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150389"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><lb n="150390"/>Mr ...</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150391"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150392"/>(coughs gravely)</stage> Madam, when we last had this pleasure by letter dated
<lb n="150393"/>the sixteenth instant ....</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150394"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><lb n="150395"/>Mr Bloom! You down here in the haunts of sin! I caught you nicely!
<lb n="150396"/>Scamp!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150397"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150398"/>(hurriedly)</stage> Not so loud my name. Whatever do you think of me? Don't
<lb n="150399"/>give me away. Walls have ears. How do you do? It's ages since I. You're
<lb n="150400"/>looking splendid. Absolutely it. Seasonable weather we are having this time
<lb n="150401"/>of year. Black refracts heat. Short cut home here. Interesting quarter.
<lb n="150402"/>Rescue of fallen women. Magdalen asylum. I am the secretary .....</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150403"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150404"/>(holds up a finger)</stage> Now, don't tell a big fib! I know somebody won't like
<lb n="150405"/>that. O just wait till I see Molly! <stage>(slily)</stage> Account for yourself this very
<lb n="150406"/>sminute or woe betide you!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150407"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150408"/>(looks behind)</stage> She often said she'd like to visit. Slumming. The exotic, you
<lb n="150409"/>see. Negro servants in livery too if she had money. Othello black brute.
<lb n="150410"/>Eugene Stratton. Even the bones and cornerman at the Livermore christies.
<lb n="150411"/>Bohee brothers. Sweep for that matter.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150412"/>(Tom and Sam Bohee, coloured coons in white duck suits, scarlet
<lb n="150413"/>socks, upstarched Sambo chokers and large scarlet asters in their
<lb n="150414"/>buttonholes, leap out. Each has his banjo slung. Their paler smaller
<lb n="150415"/>negroid hands jingle the twingtwang wires. Flashing white kaffir
<lb n="150416"/>eyes and tusks they rattle through a breakdown in clumsy clogs,
<lb n="150417"/>twinging, singing, back to back, toe heel, heel toe, with
<lb n="150418"/>smackfatclacking nigger lips.)</stage>
<sp who="bohees"><speaker><lb n="150419"/>Tom and Sam</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="150420"/><l>There's someone in the house with Dina,</l>
<lb n="150421"/><l>There's someone in the house, I know,</l>
<lb n="150422"/><l>There's someone in the house with Dina</l>
<lb n="150423"/><l>Playing on the old banjo.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<stage><lb n="150424"/>(They whisk black masks from raw babby faces: then, chuckling,
<lb n="150425"/>chortling, trumming, twanging, they diddle diddle cakewalk dance
<lb n="150426"/>away.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150427"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150428"/>(with a sour tenderish smile)</stage> A little frivol, shall we, if you are so inclined?
<lb n="150429"/>Would you like me perhaps to embrace you just for a fraction of a second?</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150430"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150431"/>(screams gaily)</stage> O, you ruck! You ought to see yourself!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150432"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150433"/>For old sake' sake. I only meant a square party, a mixed marriage mingling
<lb n="150434"/>of our different little conjugials. You know I had a soft corner for you.
<stage><lb n="150435"/>(gloomily)</stage> 'Twas I sent you that valentine of the dear gazelle.</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150436"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><lb n="150437"/>Glory Alice, you do look a holy show! Killing simply. <stage>(she puts out her
<lb n="150438"/>hand inquisitively)</stage> What are you hiding behind your back? Tell us, there's
<lb n="150439"/>a dear.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150440"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150441"/>(seizes her wrist with his free hand)</stage> Josie Powell that was, prettiest deb in
<lb n="150442"/>Dublin. How time flies by! Do you remember, harking back in a
<lb n="150443"/>retrospective arrangement, Old Christmas night, Georgina Simpson's
<lb n="150444"/>housewarming while they were playing the Irving Bishop game, finding the
<lb n="150445"/>pin blindfold and thoughtreading? Subject, what is in this snuffbox?</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150446"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><lb n="150447"/>You were the lion of the night with your seriocomic recitation and you
<lb n="150448"/>looked the part. You were always a favourite with the ladies.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150449"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150450"/>(squire of dames, in dinner jacket with wateredsilk facings, blue masonic
<lb n="150451"/>badge in his buttonhole, black bow and mother-of-pearl studs, a prismatic
<lb n="150452"/>champagne glass tilted in his hand)</stage> Ladies and gentlemen, I give you
<lb n="150453"/>Ireland, home and beauty.</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150454"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><lb n="150455"/>The dear dead days beyond recall. Love's old sweet song.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150456"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150457"/>(meaningfully dropping his voice)</stage> I confess I'm teapot with curiosity to
<lb n="150458"/>find out whether some person's something is a little teapot at present.</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150459"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150460"/>(gushingly)</stage> Tremendously teapot! London's teapot and I'm simply teapot
<lb n="150461"/>all over me! <stage>(she rubs sides with him)</stage> After the parlour mystery games and
<lb n="150462"/>the crackers from the tree we sat on the staircase ottoman. Under the
<lb n="150463"/>mistletoe. Two is company.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150464"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150465"/>(wearing a purple Napoleon hat with an amber halfmoon, his fingers and
<lb n="150466"/>thumb passing slowly down to her soft moist meaty palm which she
<lb n="150467"/>surrenders gently)</stage> The witching hour of night. I took the splinter out of
<lb n="150468"/>this hand, carefully, slowly. <stage>(tenderly, as he slips on her finger a ruby ring)</stage>
<foreign xml:lang="it"><lb n="150469"/>Là ci darem la mano.</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150470"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150471"/>(in a onepiece evening frock executed in moonlight blue, a tinsel sylph's
<lb n="150472"/>diadem on her brow with her dancecard fallen beside her moonblue satin
<lb n="150473"/>slipper, curves her palm softly, breathing quickly)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="it">Voglio e non</foreign> ..... You're
<lb n="150474"/>hot! You're scalding! The left hand nearest the heart.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150475"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150476"/>When you made your present choice they said it was beauty and the beast. I
<lb n="150477"/>can never forgive you for that. <stage>(his clenched fist at his brow)</stage> Think what it
<lb n="150478"/>means. All you meant to me then. <stage>(hoarsely)</stage> Woman, it's breaking me!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150479"/>(Denis Breen, whitetallhatted, with Wisdom Hely's
<lb n="150480"/>sandwichboards, shuffles past them in carpet slippers, his dull beard
<lb n="150481"/>thrust out, muttering to right and left. Little Alf Bergan, cloaked in
<lb n="150482"/>the pall of the ace of spades, dogs him to left and right, doubled in
<lb n="150483"/>laughter.)</stage>
<sp who="ab"><speaker><lb n="150484"/>Alf Bergan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150485"/>(points jeering at the sandwichboards)</stage> U. p: up.</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150486"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150487"/>(to Bloom)</stage> High jinks below stairs. <stage>(she gives him the glad eye)</stage> Why
<lb n="150488"/>didn't you kiss the spot to make it well? You wanted to.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150489"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150490"/>(shocked)</stage> Molly's best friend! Could you?</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150491"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150492"/>(her pulpy tongue between her lips, offers a pigeon kiss)</stage> Hnhn. The
<lb n="150493"/>answer is a lemon. Have you a little present for me there?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150494"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150495"/>(offhandedly)</stage> Kosher. A snack for supper. The home without potted meat
<lb n="150496"/>is incomplete. I was at <title type="play">Leah</title>, Mrs Bandmann Palmer. Trenchant exponent
<lb n="150497"/>of Shakespeare. Unfortunately threw away the programme. Rattling good
<lb n="150498"/>place round there for pigs' feet. Feel.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150499"/>(Richie Goulding, three ladies' hats pinned on his head, appears
<lb n="150500"/>weighted to one side by the black legal bag of Collis and Ward on
<lb n="150501"/>which a skull and crossbones are painted in white limewash. He
<lb n="150502"/>opens it and shows it full of polonies, kippered herrings, Findon
<lb n="150503"/>haddies and tightpacked pills.)</stage>
<sp who="rg"><speaker><lb n="150504"/>Richie</speaker>
<p><lb n="150505"/>Best value in Dub.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150506"/>(Bald Pat, bothered beetle, stands on the curbstone, folding his
<lb n="150507"/>napkin, waiting to wait.)</stage>
<sp who="bp"><speaker><lb n="150508"/>Pat</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150509"/>(advances with a tilted dish of spillspilling gravy)</stage> Steak and kidney. Bottle
<lb n="150510"/>of lager. Hee hee hee. Wait till I wait.</p></sp>
<sp who="rg"><speaker><lb n="150511"/>Richie</speaker>
<p><lb n="150512"/>Goodgod. Inev erate inall ....</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150513"/>(With hanging head he marches doggedly forward. The navvy,
<lb n="150514"/>lurching by, gores him with his flaming pronghorn.)</stage>
<sp who="rg"><speaker><lb n="150515"/>Richie</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150516"/>(with a cry of pain, his hand to his back)</stage> Ah! Bright's! Lights!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150517"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150518"/>(points to the navvy)</stage> A spy. Don't attract attention. I hate stupid crowds. I
<lb n="150519"/>am not on pleasure bent. I am in a grave predicament.</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150520"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><lb n="150521"/>Humbugging and deluthering as per usual with your cock and bull story.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150522"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150523"/>I want to tell you a little secret about how I came to be here. But you must
<lb n="150524"/>never tell. Not even Molly. I have a most particular reason.</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150525"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150526"/>(all agog)</stage> O, not for worlds.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150527"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150528"/>Let's walk on. Shall us?</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150529"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><lb n="150530"/>Let's.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150531"/>(The bawd makes an unheeded sign. Bloom walks on with Mrs
<lb n="150532"/>Breen. The terrier follows, whining piteously, wagging his tail.)</stage>
<sp who="The Bawd"><speaker><lb n="150533"/>The Bawd</speaker>
<p><lb n="150534"/>Jewman's melt!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150535"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150536"/>(in an oatmeal sporting suit, a sprig of woodbine in the lapel, tony buff
<lb n="150537"/>shirt, shepherd's plaid Saint Andrew's cross scarftie, white spats, fawn
<lb n="150538"/>dustcoat on his arm, tawny red brogues, fieldglasses in bandolier and a grey
<lb n="150539"/>billycock hat)</stage> Do you remember a long long time, years and years ago, just
<lb n="150540"/>after Milly, Marionette we called her, was weaned when we all went
<lb n="150541"/>together to Fairyhouse races, was it?</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150542"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150543"/>(in smart Saxe tailormade, white velours hat and spider veil)</stage>
<lb n="150544"/>Leopardstown.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150545"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150546"/>I mean, Leopardstown. And Molly won seven shillings on a three year old
<lb n="150547"/>named Nevertell and coming home along by Foxrock in that old fiveseater
<lb n="150548"/>shanderadan of a waggonette you were in your heyday then and you had
<lb n="150549"/>on that new hat of white velours with a surround of molefur that Mrs
<lb n="150550"/>Hayes advised you to buy because it was marked down to nineteen and
<lb n="150551"/>eleven, a bit of wire and an old rag of velveteen, and I'll lay you what you
<lb n="150552"/>like she did it on purpose ....</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150553"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><lb n="150554"/>She did, of course, the cat! Don't tell me! Nice adviser!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150555"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150556"/>Because it didn't suit you one quarter as well as the other ducky little
<lb n="150557"/>tammy toque with the bird of paradise wing in it that I admired on you and
<lb n="150558"/>you honestly looked just too fetching in it though it was a pity to kill it, you
<lb n="150559"/>cruel naughty creature, little mite of a thing with a heart the size of a
<lb n="150560"/>fullstop.</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150561"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150562"/>(squeezes his arm, simpers)</stage> Naughty cruel I was!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150563"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150564"/>(low, secretly, ever more rapidly)</stage> And Molly was eating a sandwich of
<lb n="150565"/>spiced beef out of Mrs Joe Gallaher's lunch basket. Frankly, though she
<lb n="150566"/>had her advisers or admirers, I never cared much for her style. She was ....</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150567"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><lb n="150568"/>Too ....</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150569"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150570"/>Yes. And Molly was laughing because Rogers and Maggot O'Reilly were
<lb n="150571"/>mimicking a cock as we passed a farmhouse and Marcus Tertius Moses, the
<lb n="150572"/>tea merchant, drove past us in a gig with his daughter, Dancer Moses was
<lb n="150573"/>her name, and the poodle in her lap bridled up and you asked me if I ever
<lb n="150574"/>heard or read or knew or came across ....</p></sp>
<sp who="jb"><speaker><lb n="150575"/>Mrs Breen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150576"/>(eagerly)</stage> Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150577"/>(She fades from his side. Followed by the whining dog he walks on
<lb n="150578"/>towards hellsgates. In an archway a standing woman, bent forward,
<lb n="150579"/>her feet apart, pisses cowily. Outside a shuttered pub a bunch of
<lb n="150580"/>loiterers listen to a tale which their brokensnouted gaffer rasps out
<lb n="150581"/>with raucous humour. An armless pair of them flop wrestling,
<lb n="150582"/>growling, in maimed sodden playfight.)</stage>
<sp who="The Gaffer"><speaker><lb n="150583"/>The Gaffer</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150584"/>(crouches, his voice twisted in his snout)</stage> And when Cairns came down
<lb n="150585"/>from the scaffolding in Beaver street what was he after doing it into only
<lb n="150586"/>into the bucket of porter that was there waiting on the shavings for
<lb n="150587"/>Derwan's plasterers.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Loiterers"><speaker><lb n="150588"/>The Loiterers</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150589"/>(guffaw with cleft palates)</stage> O jays!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150590"/>(Their paintspeckled hats wag. Spattered with size and lime of their
<lb n="150591"/>lodges they frisk limblessly about him.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150592"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150593"/>Coincidence too. They think it funny. Anything but that. Broad daylight.
<lb n="150594"/>Trying to walk. Lucky no woman.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Loiterers"><speaker><lb n="150595"/>The Loiterers</speaker>
<p><lb n="150596"/>Jays, that's a good one. Glauber salts. O jays, into the men's porter.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150597"/>(Bloom passes. Cheap whores, singly, coupled, shawled, dishevelled,
<lb n="150598"/>call from lanes, doors, corners.)</stage>
<sp who="The Whores"><speaker><lb n="150599"/>The Whores</speaker>
<p><lb n="150600"/>Are you going far, queer fellow?
<lb n="150601"/>How's your middle leg?
<lb n="150602"/>Got a match on you?
<lb n="150603"/>Eh, come here till I stiffen it for you.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150604"/>(He plodges through their sump towards the lighted street beyond.
<lb n="150605"/>From a bulge of window curtains a gramophone rears a battered
<lb n="150606"/>brazen trunk. In the shadow a shebeenkeeper haggles with the
<lb n="150607"/>navvy and the two redcoats.)</stage>
<sp who="unav"><speaker><lb n="150608"/>The Navvy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150609"/>(belching)</stage> Where's the bloody house?</p></sp>
<sp who="The Shebeenkeeper"><speaker><lb n="150610"/>The Shebeenkeeper</speaker>
<p><lb n="150611"/>Purdon street. Shilling a bottle of stout. Respectable woman.</p></sp>
<sp who="unav"><speaker><lb n="150612"/>The Navvy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150613"/>(gripping the two redcoats, staggers forward with them)</stage> Come on, you
<lb n="150614"/>British army!</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="150615"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150616"/>(behind his back)</stage> He aint half balmy.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Compton"><speaker><lb n="150617"/>Private Compton</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150618"/>(laughs)</stage> What ho!</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="150619"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150620"/>(to the navvy)</stage> Portobello barracks canteen. You ask for Carr. Just Carr.</p></sp>
<sp who="unav"><speaker><lb n="150621"/>The Navvy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150622"/>(shouts)</stage>
<lb n="150623"/>We are the boys. Of Wexford.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Compton"><speaker><lb n="150624"/>Private Compton</speaker>
<p><lb n="150625"/>Say! What price the sergeantmajor?</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="150626"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><lb n="150627"/>Bennett? He's my pal. I love old Bennett.</p></sp>
<sp who="unav"><speaker><lb n="150628"/>The Navvy</speaker>
<stage><lb n="150629"/>(shouts)</stage>
<quote><lg><lb n="150630"/><l>The galling chain.</l>
<lb n="150631"/><l>And free our native land.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<stage><lb n="150632"/>(He staggers forward, dragging them with him. Bloom stops, at
<lb n="150633"/>fault. The dog approaches, his tongue outlolling, panting.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150634"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150635"/>Wildgoose chase this. Disorderly houses. Lord knows where they are gone.
<lb n="150636"/>Drunks cover distance double quick. Nice mixup. Scene at Westland row.
<lb n="150637"/>Then jump in first class with third ticket. Then too far. Train with engine
<lb n="150638"/>behind. Might have taken me to Malahide or a siding for the night or
<lb n="150639"/>collision. Second drink does it. Once is a dose. What am I following him
<lb n="150640"/>for? Still, he's the best of that lot. If I hadn't heard about Mrs Beaufoy
<lb n="150641"/>Purefoy I wouldn't have gone and wouldn't have met. Kismet. He'll lose
<lb n="150642"/>that cash. Relieving office here. Good biz for cheapjacks, organs. What do
<lb n="150643"/>ye lack? Soon got, soon gone. Might have lost my life too with that man-
<lb n="150644"/>gongwheeltracktrolleyglarejuggernaut only for presence of mind. Can't
<lb n="150645"/>always save you, though. If I had passed Truelock's window that day two
<lb n="150646"/>minutes later would have been shot. Absence of body. Still if bullet only
<lb n="150647"/>went through my coat get damages for shock, five hundred pounds. What
<lb n="150648"/>was he? Kildare street club toff. God help his gamekeeper.</p>
<p><stage><lb n="150649"/>(He gazes ahead, reading on the wall a scrawled chalk legend <emph>Wet Dream</emph>
<lb n="150650"/>and a phallic design.)</stage> Odd! Molly drawing on the frosted carriagepane at
<lb n="150651"/>Kingstown. What's that like? <stage>(Gaudy dollwomen loll in the lighted
<lb n="150652"/>doorways, in window embrasures, smoking birdseye cigarettes. The odour
<lb n="150653"/>of the sicksweet weed floats towards him in slow round ovalling wreaths.)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="The Wreaths"><speaker><lb n="150654"/>The Wreaths</speaker>
<p><lb n="150655"/>Sweet are the sweets. Sweets of sin.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150656"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150657"/>My spine's a bit limp. Go or turn? And this food? Eat it and get all
<lb n="150658"/>pigsticky. Absurd I am. Waste of money. One and eightpence too much.
<stage><lb n="150659"/>(The retriever drives a cold snivelling muzzle against his hand, wagging his
<lb n="150660"/>tail.)</stage> Strange how they take to me. Even that brute today. Better speak to
<lb n="150661"/>him first. Like women they like <foreign xml:lang="fr">rencontres</foreign>. Stinks like a polecat. <foreign xml:lang="fr">Chacun
<lb n="150662"/>son goût.</foreign> He might be mad. Dogdays. Uncertain in his movements. Good
<lb n="150663"/>fellow! Fido! Good fellow! Garryowen! <stage>(The wolfdog sprawls on his back,
<lb n="150664"/>wriggling obscenely with begging paws, his long black tongue lolling out.)</stage>
<lb n="150665"/>Influence of his surroundings. Give and have done with it. Provided
<lb n="150666"/>nobody. <stage>(Calling encouraging words he shambles back with a furtive
<lb n="150667"/>poacher's tread, dogged by the setter into a dark stalestunk corner. He
<lb n="150668"/>unrolls one parcel and goes to dump the crubeen softly but holds back and
<lb n="150669"/>feels the trotter.)</stage> Sizeable for threepence. But then I have it in my left hand.
<lb n="150670"/>Calls for more effort. Why? Smaller from want of use. O, let it slide. Two
<lb n="150671"/>and six.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150672"/>(With regret he lets the unrolled crubeen and trotter slide. The
<lb n="150673"/>mastiff mauls the bundle clumsily and gluts himself with growling
<lb n="150674"/>greed, crunching the bones. Two raincaped watch approach, silent,
<lb n="150675"/>vigilant. They murmur together.)</stage>
<sp who="First Watch AND Second Watch"><speaker><lb n="150676"/>The Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150677"/>Bloom. Of Bloom. For Bloom. Bloom.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150678"/>(Each lays hand on Bloom's shoulder.)</stage>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="150679"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150680"/>Caught in the act. Commit no nuisance.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150681"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150682"/>(stammers)</stage> I am doing good to others.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150683"/>(A covey of gulls, storm petrels, rises hungrily from Liffey slime
<lb n="150684"/>with Banbury cakes in their beaks.)</stage>
<sp who="The Gulls"><speaker><lb n="150685"/>The Gulls</speaker>
<p><lb n="150686"/>Kaw kave kankury kake.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150687"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150688"/>The friend of man. Trained by kindness.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150689"/>(He points. Bob Doran, toppling from a high barstool, sways over
<lb n="150690"/>the munching spaniel.)</stage>
<sp who="bd"><speaker><lb n="150691"/>Bob Doran</speaker>
<p><lb n="150692"/>Towser. Give us the paw. Give the paw.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150693"/>(The bulldog growls, his scruff standing, a gobbet of pig's knuckle
<lb n="150694"/>between his molars through which rabid scumspittle dribbles. Bob
<lb n="150695"/>Doran falls silently into an area.)</stage>
<sp who="w2"><speaker><lb n="150696"/>Second Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150697"/>Prevention of cruelty to animals.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150698"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150699"/>(enthusiastically)</stage> A noble work! I scolded that tramdriver on Harold's
<lb n="150700"/>cross bridge for illusing the poor horse with his harness scab. Bad French I
<lb n="150701"/>got for my pains. Of course it was frosty and the last tram. All tales of
<lb n="150702"/>circus life are highly demoralising.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150703"/>(Signor Maffei, passionpale, in liontamer's costume with diamond
<lb n="150704"/>studs in his shirtfront, steps forward, holding a circus paperhoop, a
<lb n="150705"/>curling carriagewhip and a revolver with which he covers the
<lb n="150706"/>gorging boarhound.)</stage>
<sp who="Signor Maffei"><speaker><lb n="150707"/>Signor Maffei</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150708"/>(with a sinister smile)</stage> Ladies and gentlemen, my educated greyhound. It
<lb n="150709"/>was I broke in the bucking broncho Ajax with my patent spiked saddle for
<lb n="150710"/>carnivores. Lash under the belly with a knotted thong. Block tackle and a
<lb n="150711"/>strangling pulley will bring your lion to heel, no matter how fractious, even
<foreign xml:lang="la"><lb n="150712"/>Leo ferox</foreign> there, the Libyan maneater. A redhot crowbar and some liniment
<lb n="150713"/>rubbing on the burning part produced Fritz of Amsterdam, the thinking
<lb n="150714"/>hyena. <stage>(he glares)</stage> I possess the Indian sign. The glint of my eye does it
<lb n="150715"/>with these breastsparklers. <stage>(with a bewitching smile)</stage> I now introduce
<lb n="150716"/>Mademoiselle Ruby, the pride of the ring.</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="150717"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150718"/>Come. Name and address.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150719"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150720"/>I have forgotten for the moment. Ah, yes! <stage>(he takes off his high grade hat,
<lb n="150721"/>saluting)</stage> Dr Bloom, Leopold, dental surgeon. You have heard of von Blum
<lb n="150722"/>Pasha. Umpteen millions. <foreign xml:lang="de">Donnerwetter!</foreign> Owns half Austria. Egypt.
<lb n="150723"/>Cousin.</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="150724"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150725"/>Proof.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150726"/>(A card falls from inside the leather headband of Bloom's hat.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150727"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150728"/>(in red fez, cadi's dress coat with broad green sash, wearing a false badge
<lb n="150729"/>of the Legion of Honour, picks up the card hastily and offers it)</stage> Allow me.
<lb n="150730"/>My club is the Junior Army and Navy. Solicitors: Messrs John Henry
<lb n="150731"/>Menton, 27 Bachelor's Walk.</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="150732"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150733"/>(reads)</stage> Henry Flower. No fixed abode. Unlawfully watching and
<lb n="150734"/>besetting.</p></sp>
<sp who="w2"><speaker><lb n="150735"/>Second Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150736"/>An alibi. You are cautioned.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150737"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150738"/>(produces from his heartpocket a crumpled yellow flower)</stage> This is the
<lb n="150739"/>flower in question. It was given me by a man I don't know his name.
<stage><lb n="150740"/>(plausibly)</stage> You know that old joke, rose of Castile. Bloom. The change of
<lb n="150741"/>name. Virag. <stage>(he murmurs privately and confidentially)</stage> We are engaged
<lb n="150742"/>you see, sergeant. Lady in the case. Love entanglement. <stage>(he shoulders the
<lb n="150743"/>second watch gently)</stage> Dash it all. It's a way we gallants have in the navy.
<lb n="150744"/>Uniform that does it. <stage>(he turns gravely to the first watch)</stage> Still, of course,
<lb n="150745"/>you do get your Waterloo sometimes. Drop in some evening and have a
<lb n="150746"/>glass of old Burgundy. <stage>(to the second watch gaily)</stage> I'll introduce you,
<lb n="150747"/>inspector. She's game. Do it in the shake of a lamb's tail.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150748"/>(A dark mercurialised face appears, leading a veiled figure.)</stage>
<sp who="The Dark Mercury"><speaker><lb n="150749"/>The Dark Mercury</speaker>
<p><lb n="150750"/>The Castle is looking for him. He was drummed out of the army.</p></sp>
<sp who="marc"><speaker><lb n="150751"/>Martha</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150752"/>(thickveiled, a crimson halter round her neck, a copy of the <title type="newspaper">Irish Times</title> in
<lb n="150753"/>her hand, in tone of reproach, pointing)</stage> Henry! Leopold! Lionel, thou lost
<lb n="150754"/>one! Clear my name.</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="150755"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150756"/>(sternly)</stage> Come to the station.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150757"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150758"/>(scared, hats himself, steps back, then, plucking at his heart and lifting his
<lb n="150759"/>right forearm on the square, he gives the sign and dueguard of fellowcraft)</stage>
<lb n="150760"/>No, no, worshipful master, light of love. Mistaken identity. The Lyons mail.
<lb n="150761"/>Lesurques and Dubosc. You remember the Childs fratricide case. We
<lb n="150762"/>medical men. By striking him dead with a hatchet. I am wrongfully
<lb n="150763"/>accused. Better one guilty escape than ninetynine wrongfully condemned.</p></sp>
<sp who="marc"><speaker><lb n="150764"/>Martha</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150765"/>(sobbing behind her veil)</stage> Breach of promise. My real name is Peggy
<lb n="150766"/>Griffin. He wrote to me that he was miserable. I'll tell my brother, the
<lb n="150767"/>Bective rugger fullback, on you, heartless flirt.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150768"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150769"/>(behind his hand)</stage> She's drunk. The woman is inebriated. <stage>(he murmurs
<lb n="150770"/>vaguely the pass of Ephraim)</stage> Shitbroleeth.</p></sp>
<sp who="w2"><speaker><lb n="150771"/>Second Watch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150772"/>(tears in his eyes, to Bloom)</stage> You ought to be thoroughly well ashamed of
<lb n="150773"/>yourself.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150774"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150775"/>Gentlemen of the jury, let me explain. A pure mare's nest. I am a man
<lb n="150776"/>misunderstood. I am being made a scapegoat of. I am a respectable married
<lb n="150777"/>man, without a stain on my character. I live in Eccles street. My wife, I am
<lb n="150778"/>the daughter of a most distinguished commander, a gallant upstanding
<lb n="150779"/>gentleman, what do you call him, Majorgeneral Brian Tweedy, one of
<lb n="150780"/>Britain's fighting men who helped to win our battles. Got his majority for
<lb n="150781"/>the heroic defence of Rorke's Drift.</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="150782"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150783"/>Regiment.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150784"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150785"/>(turns to the gallery)</stage> The royal Dublins, boys, the salt of the earth, known
<lb n="150786"/>the world over. I think I see some old comrades in arms up there among
<lb n="150787"/>you. The R. D. F., with our own Metropolitan police, guardians of our
<lb n="150788"/>homes, the pluckiest lads and the finest body of men, as physique, in the
<lb n="150789"/>service of our sovereign.</p></sp>
<sp who="A Voice"><speaker><lb n="150790"/>A Voice</speaker>
<p><lb n="150791"/>Turncoat! Up the Boers! Who booed Joe Chamberlain?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150792"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150793"/>(his hand on the shoulder of the first watch)</stage> My old dad too was a J. P.
<lb n="150794"/>I'm as staunch a Britisher as you are, sir. I fought with the colours for king
<lb n="150795"/>and country in the absentminded war under general Gough in the park and
<lb n="150796"/>was disabled at Spion Kop and Bloemfontein, was mentioned in dispatches.
<lb n="150797"/>I did all a white man could. <stage>(with quiet feeling)</stage> Jim Bludso. Hold her
<lb n="150798"/>nozzle again the bank.</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="150799"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150800"/>Profession or trade.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150801"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150802"/>Well, I follow a literary occupation, author-journalist. In fact we are just
<lb n="150803"/>bringing out a collection of prize stories of which I am the inventor,
<lb n="150804"/>something that is an entirely new departure. I am connected with the British
<lb n="150805"/>and Irish press. If you ring up ....</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150806"/>(Myles Crawford strides out jerkily, a quill between his teeth. His
<lb n="150807"/>scarlet beak blazes within the aureole of his straw hat. He dangles a
<lb n="150808"/>hank of Spanish onions in one hand and holds with the other hand
<lb n="150809"/>a telephone receiver nozzle to his ear.)</stage>
<sp who="myc"><speaker><lb n="150810"/>Myles Crawford</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150811"/>(his cock's wattles wagging)</stage> Hello, seventyseven eightfour. Hello.
<title type="newspaper"><lb n="150812"/>Freeman's Urinal</title> and <title type="newspaper">Weekly Arsewipe</title> here. Paralyse Europe. You which?
<lb n="150813"/>Bluebags? Who writes? Is it Bloom?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150814"/>(Mr Philip Beaufoy, palefaced, stands in the witnessbox, in accurate
<lb n="150815"/>morning dress, outbreast pocket with peak of handkerchief
<lb n="150816"/>showing, creased lavender trousers and patent boots. He carries a
<lb n="150817"/>large portfolio labelled <emph>Matcham's Masterstrokes</emph>.)</stage>
<sp who="pb"><speaker><lb n="150818"/>Beaufoy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150819"/>(drawls)</stage> No, you aren't. Not by a long shot if I know it. I don't see it,
<lb n="150820"/>that's all. No born gentleman, no-one with the most rudimentary
<lb n="150821"/>promptings of a gentleman would stoop to such particularly loathsome
<lb n="150822"/>conduct. One of those, my lord. A plagiarist. A soapy sneak masquerading
<lb n="150823"/>as a <foreign xml:lang="fr">littérateur</foreign>. It's perfectly obvious that with the most inherent baseness
<lb n="150824"/>he has cribbed some of my bestselling copy, really gorgeous stuff, a perfect
<lb n="150825"/>gem, the love passages in which are beneath suspicion. The Beaufoy books
<lb n="150826"/>of love and great possessions, with which your lordship is doubtless
<lb n="150827"/>familiar, are a household word throughout the kingdom.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150828"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150829"/>(murmurs with hangdog meekness glum)</stage> That bit about the laughing
<lb n="150830"/>witch hand in hand I take exception to, if I may ...</p></sp>
<sp who="pb"><speaker><lb n="150831"/>Beaufoy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150832"/>(his lip upcurled, smiles superciliously on the court)</stage> You funny ass, you!
<lb n="150833"/>You're too beastly awfully weird for words! I don't think you need over
<lb n="150834"/>excessively disincommodate yourself in that regard. My literary agent Mr
<lb n="150835"/>J. B. Pinker is in attendance. I presume, my lord, we shall receive the usual
<lb n="150836"/>witnesses' fees, shan't we? We are considerably out of pocket over this bally
<lb n="150837"/>pressman johnny, this jackdaw of Rheims, who has not even been to a
<lb n="150838"/>university.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150839"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150840"/>(indistinctly)</stage> University of life. Bad art.</p></sp>
<sp who="pb"><speaker><lb n="150841"/>Beaufoy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150842"/>(shouts)</stage> It's a damnably foul lie, showing the moral rottenness of the man!
<stage><lb n="150843"/>(he extends his portfolio)</stage> We have here damning evidence, the <foreign xml:lang="la">corpus
<lb n="150844"/>delicti</foreign>, my lord, a specimen of my maturer work disfigured by the hallmark
<lb n="150845"/>of the beast.</p></sp>
<sp who="A Voice from the Gallery"><speaker><lb n="150846"/>A Voice from the Gallery</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="150847"/><l>Moses, Moses, king of the jews,</l>
<lb n="150848"/><l>Wiped his arse in the <title type="newspaper">Daily News</title>.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150849"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150850"/>(bravely)</stage> Overdrawn.</p></sp>
<sp who="pb"><speaker><lb n="150851"/>Beaufoy</speaker>
<p><lb n="150852"/>You low cad! You ought to be ducked in the horsepond, you rotter! <stage>(to the
<lb n="150853"/>court)</stage> Why, look at the man's private life! Leading a quadruple existence!
<lb n="150854"/>Street angel and house devil. Not fit to be mentioned in mixed society! The
<lb n="150855"/>archconspirator of the age!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150856"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150857"/>(to the court)</stage> And he, a bachelor, how ...</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="150858"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150859"/>The King versus Bloom. Call the woman Driscoll.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Crier"><speaker><lb n="150860"/>The Crier</speaker>
<p><lb n="150861"/>Mary Driscoll, scullerymaid!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150862"/>(Mary Driscoll, a slipshod servant girl, approaches. She has a
<lb n="150863"/>bucket on the crook of her arm and a scouringbrush in her hand.)</stage>
<sp who="w2"><speaker><lb n="150864"/>Second Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150865"/>Another! Are you of the unfortunate class?</p></sp>
<sp who="mard"><speaker><lb n="150866"/>Mary Driscoll</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150867"/>(indignantly)</stage> I'm not a bad one. I bear a respectable character and was
<lb n="150868"/>four months in my last place. I was in a situation, six pounds a year and my
<lb n="150869"/>chances with Fridays out and I had to leave owing to his carryings on.</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="150870"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150871"/>What do you tax him with?</p></sp>
<sp who="mard"><speaker><lb n="150872"/>Mary Driscoll</speaker>
<p><lb n="150873"/>He made a certain suggestion but I thought more of myself as poor as I am.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150874"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150875"/>(in housejacket of ripplecloth, flannel trousers, heelless slippers, unshaven,
<lb n="150876"/>his hair rumpled: softly)</stage> I treated you white. I gave you mementos, smart
<lb n="150877"/>emerald garters far above your station. Incautiously I took your part when
<lb n="150878"/>you were accused of pilfering. There's a medium in all things. Play cricket.</p></sp>
<sp who="mard"><speaker><lb n="150879"/>Mary Driscoll</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150880"/>(excitedly)</stage> As God is looking down on me this night if ever I laid a hand to
<lb n="150881"/>them oylsters!</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="150882"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="150883"/>The offence complained of? Did something happen?</p></sp>
<sp who="mard"><speaker><lb n="150884"/>Mary Driscoll</speaker>
<p><lb n="150885"/>He surprised me in the rere of the premises, Your honour, when the missus
<lb n="150886"/>was out shopping one morning with a request for a safety pin. He held me
<lb n="150887"/>and I was discoloured in four places as a result. And he interfered twict
<lb n="150888"/>with my clothing.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150889"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150890"/>She counterassaulted.</p></sp>
<sp who="mard"><speaker><lb n="150891"/>Mary Driscoll</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150892"/>(scornfully)</stage> I had more respect for the scouringbrush, so I had. I
<lb n="150893"/>remonstrated with him, Your lord, and he remarked: keep it quiet.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150894"/>(General laughter.)</stage>
<sp who="gfo"><speaker><lb n="150895"/>George Fottrell</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150896"/>(clerk of the crown and peace, resonantly)</stage> Order in court! The accused
<lb n="150897"/>will now make a bogus statement.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150898"/>(Bloom, pleading not guilty and holding a fullblown waterlily,
<lb n="150899"/>begins a long unintelligible speech. They would hear what counsel
<lb n="150900"/>had to say in his stirring address to the grand jury. He was down
<lb n="150901"/>and out but, though branded as a black sheep, if he might say so, he
<lb n="150902"/>meant to reform, to retrieve the memory of the past in a purely
<lb n="150903"/>sisterly way and return to nature as a purely domestic animal. A
<lb n="150904"/>sevenmonths' child, he had been carefully brought up and nurtured
<lb n="150905"/>by an aged bedridden parent. There might have been lapses of an
<lb n="150906"/>erring father but he wanted to turn over a new leaf and now, when
<lb n="150907"/>at long last in sight of the whipping post, to lead a homely life in the
<lb n="150908"/>evening of his days, permeated by the affectionate surroundings of
<lb n="150909"/>the heaving bosom of the family. An acclimatised Britisher, he had
<lb n="150910"/>seen that summer eve from the footplate of an engine cab of the
<lb n="150911"/>Loop line railway company while the rain refrained from falling
<lb n="150912"/>glimpses, as it were, through the windows of loveful households in
<lb n="150913"/>Dublin city and urban district of scenes truly rural of happiness of
<lb n="150914"/>the better land with Dockrell's wallpaper at one and ninepence a
<lb n="150915"/>dozen, innocent Britishborn bairns lisping prayers to the Sacred
<lb n="150916"/>Infant, youthful scholars grappling with their pensums or model
<lb n="150917"/>young ladies playing on the pianoforte or anon all with fervour
<lb n="150918"/>reciting the family rosary round the crackling Yulelog while in the
<lb n="150919"/>boreens and green lanes the colleens with their swains strolled what
<lb n="150920"/>times the strains of the organtoned melodeon Britanniametalbound
<lb n="150921"/>with four acting stops and twelvefold bellows, a sacrifice, greatest
<lb n="150922"/>bargain ever ....</stage>
<stage><lb n="150923"/>Renewed laughter. He mumbles incoherently. Reporters complain
<lb n="150924"/>that they cannot hear.)</stage>
<sp who="Longhand and Shorthand"><speaker><lb n="150925"/>Longhand and Shorthand</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150926"/>(without looking up from their notebooks)</stage> Loosen his boots.</p></sp>
<sp who="profmh"><speaker><lb n="150927"/>Professor MacHugh</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150928"/>(from the presstable, coughs and calls)</stage> Cough it up, man. Get it out in bits.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150929"/>(The crossexamination proceeds <foreign xml:lang="la">re</foreign> Bloom and the bucket. A large
<lb n="150930"/>bucket. Bloom himself. Bowel trouble. In Beaver street. Gripe, yes.
<lb n="150931"/>Quite bad. A plasterer's bucket. By walking stifflegged. Suffered
<lb n="150932"/>untold misery. Deadly agony. About noon. Love or burgundy. Yes,
<lb n="150933"/>some spinach. Crucial moment. He did not look in the bucket.
<lb n="150934"/>Nobody. Rather a mess. Not completely. A <title type="magazine">Titbits</title> back number.</stage>
<stage><lb n="150935"/>Uproar and catcalls. Bloom in a torn frockcoat stained with
<lb n="150936"/>whitewash, dinged silk hat sideways on his head, a strip of
<lb n="150937"/>stickingplaster across his nose, talks inaudibly.)</stage>
<sp who="jjom"><speaker><lb n="150938"/>J. J. O'Molloy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150939"/>(in barrister's grey wig and stuffgown, speaking with a voice of pained
<lb n="150940"/>protest)</stage> This is no place for indecent levity at the expense of an erring
<lb n="150941"/>mortal disguised in liquor. We are not in a beargarden nor at an Oxford rag
<lb n="150942"/>nor is this a travesty of justice. My client is an infant, a poor foreign
<lb n="150943"/>immigrant who started scratch as a stowaway and is now trying to turn an
<lb n="150944"/>honest penny. The trumped up misdemeanour was due to a momentary
<lb n="150945"/>aberration of heredity, brought on by hallucination, such familiarities as the
<lb n="150946"/>alleged guilty occurrence being quite permitted in my client's native place,
<lb n="150947"/>the land of the Pharaoh. <foreign xml:lang="it">Prima facie</foreign>, I put it to you that there was no
<lb n="150948"/>attempt at carnally knowing. Intimacy did not occur and the offence
<lb n="150949"/>complained of by Driscoll, that her virtue was solicited, was not repeated. I
<lb n="150950"/>would deal in especial with atavism. There have been cases of shipwreck
<lb n="150951"/>and somnambulism in my client's family. If the accused could speak he
<lb n="150952"/>could a tale unfold – one of the strangest that have ever been narrated
<lb n="150953"/>between the covers of a book. He himself, my lord, is a physical wreck from
<lb n="150954"/>cobbler's weak chest. His submission is that he is of Mongolian extraction
<lb n="150955"/>and irresponsible for his actions. Not all there, in fact.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150956"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150957"/>(Barefoot, pigeonbreasted, in lascar's vest and trousers, apologetic toes
<lb n="150958"/>turned in, opens his tiny mole's eyes and looks about him dazedly, passing a
<lb n="150959"/>slow hand across his forehead. Then he hitches his belt sailor fashion and
<lb n="150960"/>with a shrug of oriental obeisance salutes the court, pointing one thumb
<lb n="150961"/>heavenward.)</stage> Him makee velly muchee fine night. <stage>(he begins to lilt simply)</stage></p>
<lg><lb n="150962"/><l>Li li poo lil chile</l>
<lb n="150963"/><l>Blingee pigfoot evly night</l>
<lb n="150964"/><l>Payee two shilly ....</l></lg></sp>
<stage><lb n="150965"/>(He is howled down.)</stage>
<sp who="jjom"><speaker><lb n="150966"/>J. J. O'Molloy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150967"/>(hotly to the populace)</stage> This is a lonehand fight. By Hades, I will not have
<lb n="150968"/>any client of mine gagged and badgered in this fashion by a pack of curs
<lb n="150969"/>and laughing hyenas. The Mosaic code has superseded the law of the
<lb n="150970"/>jungle. I say it and I say it emphatically, without wishing for one moment to
<lb n="150971"/>defeat the ends of justice, accused was not accessory before the act and
<lb n="150972"/>prosecutrix has not been tampered with. The young person was treated by
<lb n="150973"/>defendant as if she were his very own daughter. <stage>(Bloom takes J. J.
<lb n="150974"/>O'Molloy's hand and raises it to his lips)</stage> I shall call rebutting evidence to
<lb n="150975"/>prove up to the hilt that the hidden hand is again at its old game. When in
<lb n="150976"/>doubt persecute Bloom. My client, an innately bashful man, would be the
<lb n="150977"/>last man in the world to do anything ungentlemanly which injured modesty
<lb n="150978"/>could object to or cast a stone at a girl who took the wrong turning when
<lb n="150979"/>some dastard, responsible for her condition, had worked his own sweet will
<lb n="150980"/>on her. He wants to go straight. I regard him as the whitest man I know.
<lb n="150981"/>He is down on his luck at present owing to the mortgaging of his extensive
<lb n="150982"/>property at Agendath Netaim in faraway Asia Minor, slides of which will
<lb n="150983"/>now be shown. <stage>(to Bloom)</stage> I suggest that you will do the handsome thing.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="150984"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="150985"/>A penny in the pound.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150986"/>(The image of the lake of Kinnereth with blurred cattle cropping in
<lb n="150987"/>silver haze is projected on the wall. Moses Dlugacz, ferreteyed
<lb n="150988"/>albino, in blue dungarees, stands up in the gallery, holding in each
<lb n="150989"/>hand an orange citron and a pork kidney.)</stage>
<sp who="md"><speaker><lb n="150990"/>Dlugacz</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150991"/>(hoarsely)</stage> Bleibtreustrasse, Berlin, W. 13.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="150992"/>(J. J. O'Molloy steps on to a low plinth and holds the lapel of his
<lb n="150993"/>coat with solemnity. His face lengthens, grows pale and bearded,
<lb n="150994"/>with sunken eyes, the blotches of phthisis and hectic cheekbones of
<lb n="150995"/>John F. Taylor. He applies his handkerchief to his mouth and
<lb n="150996"/>scrutinises the galloping tide of rosepink blood.)</stage>
<sp who="jjom"><speaker><lb n="150997"/>J. J. O'Molloy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="150998"/>(almost voicelessly)</stage> Excuse me. I am suffering from a severe chill, have
<lb n="150999"/>recently come from a sickbed. A few wellchosen words. <stage>(He assumes the
<lb n="151000"/>avine head, foxy moustache and proboscidal eloquence of Seymour
<lb n="151001"/>Bushe.)</stage> When the angel's book comes to be opened if aught that
<lb n="151002"/>the pensive bosom has inaugurated of soultransfigured and of
<lb n="151003"/>soultransfiguring deserves to live I say accord the prisoner at the bar the
<lb n="151004"/>sacred benefit of the doubt.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151005"/>(A paper with something written on it is handed into court.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151006"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151007"/>(in court dress)</stage> Can give best references. Messrs Callan, Coleman. Mr
<lb n="151008"/>Wisdom Hely J. P. My old chief Joe Cuffe. Mr V. B. Dillon, ex lord mayor
<lb n="151009"/>of Dublin. I have moved in the charmed circle of the highest .... Queens of
<lb n="151010"/>Dublin society. <stage>(carelessly)</stage> I was just chatting this afternoon at the
<lb n="151011"/>viceregal lodge to my old pals, sir Robert and lady Ball, astronomer royal,
<lb n="151012"/>at the levee. Sir Bob, I said ......</p></sp>
<sp who="mrsyb"><speaker><lb n="151013"/>Mrs Yelverton Barry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151014"/>(in lowcorsaged opal balldress and elbowlength ivory gloves, wearing a
<lb n="151015"/>sabletrimmed brickquilted dolman, a comb of brilliants and panache of
<lb n="151016"/>osprey in her hair)</stage> Arrest him, constable. He wrote me an anonymous
<lb n="151017"/>letter in prentice backhand when my husband was in the North Riding of
<lb n="151018"/>Tipperary on the Munster circuit, signed James Lovebirch. He said that he
<lb n="151019"/>had seen from the gods my peerless globes as I sat in a box of the <foreign xml:lang="fr">Theatre
<lb n="151020"/>Royal</foreign> at a command performance of <title type="opera">La Cigale</title>. I deeply inflamed him, he
<lb n="151021"/>said. He made improper overtures to me to misconduct myself at half past
<lb n="151022"/>four p.m. on the following Thursday, Dunsink time. He offered to send me
<lb n="151023"/>through the post a work of fiction by Monsieur Paul de Kock, entitled <title type="book">The
<lb n="151024"/>Girl with the Three Pairs of Stays</title>.</p></sp>
<sp who="mrsb"><speaker><lb n="151025"/>Mrs Bellingham</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151026"/>(in cap and seal coney mantle, wrapped up to the nose, steps out of her
<lb n="151027"/>brougham and scans through tortoiseshell quizzing-glasses which she takes
<lb n="151028"/>from inside her huge opossum muff)</stage> Also to me. Yes, I believe it is the same
<lb n="151029"/>objectionable person. Because he closed my carriage door outside sir
<lb n="151030"/>Thornley Stoker's one sleety day during the cold snap of February
<lb n="151031"/>ninetythree when even the grid of the wastepipe and the ballstop in my bath
<lb n="151032"/>cistern were frozen. Subsequently he enclosed a bloom of edelweiss culled
<lb n="151033"/>on the heights, as he said, in my honour. I had it examined by a botanical
<lb n="151034"/>expert and elicited the information that it was a blossom of the homegrown
<lb n="151035"/>potato plant purloined from a forcingcase of the model farm.</p></sp>
<sp who="mrsyb"><speaker><lb n="151036"/>Mrs Yelverton Barry</speaker>
<p><lb n="151037"/>Shame on him!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151038"/>(A crowd of sluts and ragamuffins surges forward.)</stage>
<sp who="The Sluts and Ragamuffins"><speaker><lb n="151039"/>The Sluts and Ragamuffins</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151040"/>(screaming)</stage> Stop thief! Hurrah there, Bluebeard! Three cheers for Ikey
<lb n="151041"/>Mo!</p></sp>
<sp who="w2"><speaker><lb n="151042"/>Second Watch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151043"/>(produces handcuffs)</stage> Here are the darbies.</p></sp>
<sp who="mrsb"><speaker><lb n="151044"/>Mrs Bellingham</speaker>
<p><lb n="151045"/>He addressed me in several handwritings with fulsome compliments as a
<lb n="151046"/>Venus in furs and alleged profound pity for my frostbound coachman
<lb n="151047"/>Palmer while in the same breath he expressed himself as envious of his
<lb n="151048"/>earflaps and fleecy sheepskins and of his fortunate proximity to my person,
<lb n="151049"/>when standing behind my chair wearing my livery and the armorial
<lb n="151050"/>bearings of the Bellingham escutcheon garnished sable, a buck's head
<lb n="151051"/>couped or. He lauded almost extravagantly my nether extremities, my
<lb n="151052"/>swelling calves in silk hose drawn up to the limit, and eulogised glowingly
<lb n="151053"/>my other hidden treasures in priceless lace which, he said, he could conjure
<lb n="151054"/>up. He urged me (stating that he felt it his mission in life to urge me) to
<lb n="151055"/>defile the marriage bed, to commit adultery at the earliest possible
<lb n="151056"/>opportunity.</p></sp>
<sp who="mrsmt"><speaker><lb n="151057"/>The Honourable Mrs Mervyn Talboys</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151058"/>(in amazon costume, hard hat, jackboots cockspurred, vermilion waistcoat,
<lb n="151059"/>fawn musketeer gauntlets with braided drums, long train held up and
<lb n="151060"/>hunting crop with which she strikes her welt constantly)</stage> Also me. Because
<lb n="151061"/>he saw me on the polo ground of the Phoenix park at the match All Ireland
<lb n="151062"/>versus the Rest of Ireland. My eyes, I know, shone divinely as I watched
<lb n="151063"/>Captain Slogger Dennehy of the Inniskillings win the final chukkar on his
<lb n="151064"/>darling cob <name type="horse">Centaur</name>. This plebeian Don Juan observed me from behind a
<lb n="151065"/>hackney car and sent me in double envelopes an obscene photograph, such
<lb n="151066"/>as are sold after dark on Paris boulevards, insulting to any lady. I have it
<lb n="151067"/>still. It represents a partially nude señorita, frail and lovely (his wife, as he
<lb n="151068"/>solemnly assured me, taken by him from nature), practising illicit
<lb n="151069"/>intercourse with a muscular torero, evidently a blackguard. He urged me to
<lb n="151070"/>do likewise, to misbehave, to sin with officers of the garrison. He implored
<lb n="151071"/>me to soil his letter in an unspeakable manner, to chastise him as he richly
<lb n="151072"/>deserves, to bestride and ride him, to give him a most vicious
<lb n="151073"/>horsewhipping.</p></sp>
<sp who="mrsb"><speaker><lb n="151074"/>Mrs Bellingham</speaker>
<p><lb n="151075"/>Me too.</p></sp>
<sp who="mrsyb"><speaker><lb n="151076"/>Mrs Yelverton Barry</speaker>
<p><lb n="151077"/>Me too.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151078"/>(Several highly respectable Dublin ladies hold up improper letters
<lb n="151079"/>received from Bloom.)</stage>
<sp who="mrsmt"><speaker><lb n="151080"/>The Honourable Mrs Mervyn Talboys</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151081"/>(stamps her jingling spurs in a sudden paroxysm of fury)</stage> I will, by the
<lb n="151082"/>God above me. I'll scourge the pigeonlivered cur as long as I can stand over
<lb n="151083"/>him. I'll flay him alive.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151084"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151085"/>(his eyes closing, quails expectantly)</stage> Here? <stage>(he squirms)</stage> Again! <stage>(he pants
<lb n="151086"/>cringing)</stage> I love the danger.</p></sp>
<sp who="mrsmt"><speaker><lb n="151087"/>The Honourable Mrs Mervyn Talboys</speaker>
<p><lb n="151088"/>Very much so! I'll make it hot for you. I'll make you dance Jack Latten for
<lb n="151089"/>that.</p></sp>
<sp who="mrsb"><speaker><lb n="151090"/>Mrs Bellingham</speaker>
<p><lb n="151091"/>Tan his breech well, the upstart! Write the stars and stripes on it!</p></sp>
<sp who="mrsyb"><speaker><lb n="151092"/>Mrs Yelverton Barry</speaker>
<p><lb n="151093"/>Disgraceful! There's no excuse for him! A married man!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151094"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151095"/>All these people. I meant only the spanking idea. A warm tingling glow
<lb n="151096"/>without effusion. Refined birching to stimulate the circulation.</p></sp>
<sp who="mrsmt"><speaker><lb n="151097"/>The Honourable Mrs Mervyn Talboys</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151098"/>(laughs derisively)</stage> O, did you, my fine fellow? Well, by the living God,
<lb n="151099"/>you'll get the surprise of your life now, believe me, the most unmerciful
<lb n="151100"/>hiding a man ever bargained for. You have lashed the dormant tigress in my
<lb n="151101"/>nature into fury.</p></sp>
<sp who="mrsb"><speaker><lb n="151102"/>Mrs Bellingham</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151103"/>(shakes her muff and quizzing-glasses vindictively)</stage> Make him smart,
<lb n="151104"/>Hanna dear. Give him ginger. Thrash the mongrel within an inch of his
<lb n="151105"/>life. The cat-o'-nine-tails. Geld him. Vivisect him.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151106"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151107"/>(shuddering, shrinking, joins his hands: with hangdog mien)</stage> O cold! O
<lb n="151108"/>shivery! It was your ambrosial beauty. Forget, forgive. Kismet. Let me off
<lb n="151109"/>this once. <stage>(he offers the other cheek)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="mrsyb"><speaker><lb n="151110"/>Mrs Yelverton Barry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151111"/>(severely)</stage> Don't do so on any account, Mrs Talboys! He should be
<lb n="151112"/>soundly trounced!</p></sp>
<sp who="mrsmt"><speaker><lb n="151113"/>The Honourable Mrs Mervyn Talboys</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151114"/>(unbuttoning her gauntlet violently)</stage> I'll do no such thing. Pigdog and
<lb n="151115"/>always was ever since he was pupped! To dare address me! I'll flog him
<lb n="151116"/>black and blue in the public streets. I'll dig my spurs in him up to the rowel.
<lb n="151117"/>He is a wellknown cuckold. <stage>(she swishes her huntingcrop savagely in the
<lb n="151118"/>air)</stage> Take down his trousers without loss of time. Come here, sir! Quick!
<lb n="151119"/>Ready?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151120"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151121"/>(trembling, beginning to obey)</stage> The weather has been so warm.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151122"/>(Davy Stephens, ringletted, passes with a bevy of barefoot
<lb n="151123"/>newsboys.)</stage>
<sp who="dst"><speaker><lb n="151124"/>Davy Stephens</speaker>
<p><title type="newspaper"><lb n="151125"/>Messenger of the Sacred Heart</title> and <title type="newspaper">Evening Telegraph</title> with Saint Patrick's
<lb n="151126"/>Day supplement. Containing the new addresses of all the cuckolds in
<lb n="151127"/>Dublin.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151128"/>(The very reverend Canon O'Hanlon in cloth of gold cope elevates
<lb n="151129"/>and exposes a marble timepiece. Before him Father Conroy and the
<lb n="151130"/>reverend John Hughes S. J. bend low.)</stage>
<sp who="The Timepiece"><speaker><lb n="151131"/>The Timepiece</speaker>
<stage><lb n="151132"/>(unportalling)</stage>
<lg><lb n="151133"/><l>Cuckoo.</l>
<lb n="151134"/><l>Cuckoo.</l>
<lb n="151135"/><l>Cuckoo.</l></lg></sp>
<stage><lb n="151136"/>(The brass quoits of a bed are heard to jingle.)</stage>
<sp who="The Quoits"><speaker><lb n="151137"/>The Quoits</speaker>
<p><lb n="151138"/>Jigjag. Jigajiga. Jigjag.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151139"/>(A panel of fog rolls back rapidly, revealing rapidly in the jurybox
<lb n="151140"/>the faces of Martin Cunningham, foreman, silkhatted, Jack Power,
<lb n="151141"/>Simon Dedalus, Tom Kernan, Ned Lambert, John Henry Menton,
<lb n="151142"/>Myles Crawford, Lenehan, Paddy Leonard, Nosey Flynn, M'Coy
<lb n="151143"/>and the featureless face of a Nameless One.)</stage>
<sp who="tn"><speaker><lb n="151144"/>The Nameless One</speaker>
<p><lb n="151145"/>Bareback riding. Weight for age. Gob, he organised her.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Jurors"><speaker><lb n="151146"/>The Jurors</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151147"/>(all their heads turned to his voice)</stage> Really?</p></sp>
<sp who="tn"><speaker><lb n="151148"/>The Nameless One</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151149"/>(snarls)</stage> Arse over tip. Hundred shillings to five.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Jurors"><speaker><lb n="151150"/>The Jurors</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151151"/>(all their heads lowered in assent)</stage> Most of us thought as much.</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="151152"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="151153"/>He is a marked man. Another girl's plait cut. Wanted: Jack the Ripper. A
<lb n="151154"/>thousand pounds reward.</p></sp>
<sp who="w2"><speaker><lb n="151155"/>Second Watch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151156"/>(awed, whispers)</stage> And in black. A mormon. Anarchist.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Crier"><speaker><lb n="151157"/>The Crier</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151158"/>(loudly)</stage> Whereas Leopold Bloom of no fixed abode is a wellknown
<lb n="151159"/>dynamitard, forger, bigamist, bawd and cuckold and a public nuisance to
<lb n="151160"/>the citizens of Dublin and whereas at this commission of assizes the most
<lb n="151161"/>honourable ....</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151162"/>(His Honour, sir Frederick Falkiner, recorder of Dublin, in judicial
<lb n="151163"/>garb of grey stone rises from the bench, stonebearded. He bears in
<lb n="151164"/>his arms an umbrella sceptre. From his forehead arise starkly the
<lb n="151165"/>Mosaic ramshorns.)</stage>
<sp who="ff"><speaker><lb n="151166"/>The Recorder</speaker>
<p><lb n="151167"/>I will put an end to this white slave traffic and rid Dublin of this odious
<lb n="151168"/>pest. Scandalous! <stage>(he dons the black cap)</stage> Let him be taken, Mr Subsheriff,
<lb n="151169"/>from the dock where he now stands and detained in custody in Mountjoy
<lb n="151170"/>prison during His Majesty's pleasure and there be hanged by the neck until
<lb n="151171"/>he is dead and therein fail not at your peril or may the Lord have mercy on
<lb n="151172"/>your soul. Remove him.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151173"/>(A black skullcap descends upon his head. The subsheriff Long
<lb n="151174"/>John Fanning appears, smoking a pungent Henry Clay.)</stage>
<sp who="jf"><speaker><lb n="151175"/>Long John Fanning</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151176"/>(scowls and calls with rich rolling utterance)</stage> Who'll hang Judas Iscariot?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151177"/>(H. Rumbold, master barber, in a bloodcoloured jerkin and
<lb n="151178"/>tanner's apron, a rope coiled over his shoulder, mounts the block. A
<lb n="151179"/>life preserver and a nailstudded bludgeon are stuck in his belt. He
<lb n="151180"/>rubs grimly his grappling hands, knobbed with knuckledusters.)</stage>
<sp who="hr"><speaker><lb n="151181"/>Rumbold</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151182"/>(to the recorder with sinister familiarity)</stage> Hanging Harry, your Majesty,
<lb n="151183"/>the Mersey terror. Five guineas a jugular. Neck or nothing.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151184"/>(The bells of George's church toll slowly, loud dark iron.)</stage>
<sp who="bells of George's church"><speaker><lb n="151185"/>The Bells</speaker>
<p><lb n="151186"/>Heigho! Heigho!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151187"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151188"/>(desperately)</stage> Wait. Stop. Gulls. Good heart. I saw. Innocence. Girl in the
<lb n="151189"/>monkeyhouse. Zoo. Lewd chimpanzee. <stage>(breathlessly)</stage> Pelvic basin. Her
<lb n="151190"/>artless blush unmanned me. <stage>(overcome with emotion)</stage> I left the precincts.
<stage><lb n="151191"/>(he turns to a figure in the crowd, appealing)</stage> Hynes, may I speak to you?
<lb n="151192"/>You know me. That three shillings you can keep. If you want a little
<lb n="151193"/>more .....</p></sp>
<sp who="jh"><speaker><lb n="151194"/>Hynes</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151195"/>(coldly)</stage> You are a perfect stranger.</p></sp>
<sp who="w2"><speaker><lb n="151196"/>Second Watch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151197"/>(points to the corner)</stage> The bomb is here.</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="151198"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="151199"/>Infernal machine with a time fuse.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151200"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151201"/>No, no. Pig's feet. I was at a funeral.</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="151202"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151203"/>(draws his truncheon)</stage> Liar!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151204"/>(The beagle lifts his snout, showing the grey scorbutic face of
<lb n="151205"/>Paddy Dignam. He has gnawed all. He exhales a putrid carcasefed
<lb n="151206"/>breath. He grows to human size and shape. His dachshund coat
<lb n="151207"/>becomes a brown mortuary habit. His green eye flashes bloodshot.
<lb n="151208"/>Half of one ear, all the nose and both thumbs are ghouleaten.)</stage>
<sp who="pd"><speaker><lb n="151209"/>Paddy Dignam</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151210"/>(in a hollow voice)</stage> It is true. It was my funeral. Doctor Finucane
<lb n="151211"/>pronounced life extinct when I succumbed to the disease from natural
<lb n="151212"/>causes.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151213"/>(He lifts his mutilated ashen face moonwards and bays
<lb n="151214"/>lugubriously.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151215"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151216"/>(in triumph)</stage> You hear?</p></sp>
<sp who="pd"><speaker><lb n="151217"/>Paddy Dignam</speaker>
<p><lb n="151218"/>Bloom, I am Paddy Dignam's spirit. List, list, O list!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151219"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151220"/>The voice is the voice of Esau.</p></sp>
<sp who="w2"><speaker><lb n="151221"/>Second Watch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151222"/>(blesses himself)</stage> How is that possible?</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="151223"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="151224"/>It is not in the penny catechism.</p></sp>
<sp who="pd"><speaker><lb n="151225"/>Paddy Dignam</speaker>
<p><lb n="151226"/>By metempsychosis. Spooks.</p></sp>
<sp who="A Voice ALSO Molly Bloom"><speaker><lb n="151227"/>A Voice</speaker>
<p><lb n="151228"/>O rocks.</p></sp>
<sp who="pd"><speaker><lb n="151229"/>Paddy Dignam</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151230"/>(earnestly)</stage> Once I was in the employ of Mr J. H. Menton, solicitor,
<lb n="151231"/>commissioner for oaths and affidavits, of 27 Bachelor's Walk. Now I am
<lb n="151232"/>defunct, the wall of the heart hypertrophied. Hard lines. The poor wife was
<lb n="151233"/>awfully cut up. How is she bearing it? Keep her off that bottle of sherry.
<stage><lb n="151234"/>(he looks round him)</stage> A lamp. I must satisfy an animal need. That
<lb n="151235"/>buttermilk didn't agree with me.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151236"/>(The portly figure of John O'Connell, caretaker, stands forth,
<lb n="151237"/>holding a bunch of keys tied with crape. Beside him stands Father
<lb n="151238"/>Coffey, chaplain, toadbellied, wrynecked, in a surplice and
<lb n="151239"/>bandanna nightcap, holding sleepily a staff of twisted poppies.)</stage>
<sp who="frc"><speaker><lb n="151240"/>Father Coffey</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151241"/>(yawns, then chants with a hoarse croak)</stage> Namine. Jacobs. Vobiscuits.
<lb n="151242"/>Amen.</p></sp>
<sp who="joc"><speaker><lb n="151243"/>John O'Connell</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151244"/>(foghorns stormily through his megaphone)</stage> Dignam, Patrick T, deceased.</p></sp>
<sp who="pd"><speaker><lb n="151245"/>Paddy Dignam</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151246"/>(with pricked up ears, winces)</stage> Overtones. <stage>(he wriggles forward and
<lb n="151247"/>places an ear to the ground)</stage> My master's voice!</p></sp>
<sp who="joc"><speaker><lb n="151248"/>John O'Connell</speaker>
<p><lb n="151249"/>Burial docket letter number U. P. eightyfive thousand. Field seventeen.
<lb n="151250"/>House of Keys. Plot, one hundred and one.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151251"/>(Paddy Dignam listens with visible effort, thinking, his tail
<lb n="151252"/>stiffpointed, his ears cocked.)</stage>
<sp who="pd"><speaker><lb n="151253"/>Paddy Dignam</speaker>
<p><lb n="151254"/>Pray for the repose of his soul.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151255"/>(He worms down through a coalhole, his brown habit trailing its
<lb n="151256"/>tether over rattling pebbles. After him toddles an obese grandfather
<lb n="151257"/>rat on fungus turtle paws under a grey carapace. Dignam's voice,
<lb n="151258"/>muffled, is heard baying under ground: <said who="pd" direct="false" rend="italics">Dignam's dead and gone
<lb n="151259"/>below</said>. Tom Rochford, robinredbreasted, in cap and breeches,
<lb n="151260"/>jumps from his twocolumned machine.)</stage>
<sp who="tr"><speaker><lb n="151261"/>Tom Rochford</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151262"/>(a hand to his breastbone, bows)</stage> Reuben J. A florin I find him. <stage>(he fixes
<lb n="151263"/>the manhole with a resolute stare)</stage> My turn now on. Follow me up to
<lb n="151264"/>Carlow.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151265"/>(He executes a daredevil salmon leap in the air and is engulfed in
<lb n="151266"/>the coalhole. Two discs on the columns wobble, eyes of nought. All
<lb n="151267"/>recedes. Bloom plodges forward again through the sump. Kisses
<lb n="151268"/>chirp amid the rifts of fog. A piano sounds. He stands before a
<lb n="151269"/>lighted house, listening. The kisses, winging from their bowers fly
<lb n="151270"/>about him, twittering, warbling, cooing.)</stage>
<sp who="The Kisses"><speaker><lb n="151271"/>The Kisses</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151272"/>(warbling)</stage> Leo! <stage>(twittering)</stage> Icky licky micky sticky for Leo! <stage>(cooing)</stage>
<lb n="151273"/>Coo coocoo! Yummyyum, Womwom! <stage>(warbling)</stage> Big comebig! Pirouette!
<lb n="151274"/>Leopopold! <stage>(twittering)</stage> Leeolee! <stage>(warbling)</stage> O Leo!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151275"/>(They rustle, flutter upon his garments, alight, bright giddy flecks,
<lb n="151276"/>silvery sequins.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151277"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151278"/>A man's touch. Sad music. Church music. Perhaps here.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151279"/>(Zoe Higgins, a young whore in a sapphire slip, closed with three
<lb n="151280"/>bronze buckles, a slim black velvet fillet round her throat, nods,
<lb n="151281"/>trips down the steps and accosts him.)</stage>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151282"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="151283"/>Are you looking for someone? He's inside with his friend.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151284"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151285"/>Is this Mrs Mack's?</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151286"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="151287"/>No, eightyone. Mrs Cohen's. You might go farther and fare worse. Mother
<lb n="151288"/>Slipperslapper. <stage>(familiarly)</stage> She's on the job herself tonight with the vet her
<lb n="151289"/>tipster that gives her all the winners and pays for her son in Oxford.
<lb n="151290"/>Working overtime but her luck's turned today. <stage>(suspiciously)</stage> You're not
<lb n="151291"/>his father, are you?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151292"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151293"/>Not I!</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151294"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="151295"/>You both in black. Has little mousey any tickles tonight?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151296"/>(His skin, alert, feels her fingertips approach. A hand glides over
<lb n="151297"/>his left thigh.)</stage>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151298"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="151299"/>How's the nuts?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151300"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151301"/>Off side. Curiously they are on the right. Heavier, I suppose. One in a
<lb n="151302"/>million my tailor, Mesias, says.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151303"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151304"/>(in sudden alarm)</stage> You've a hard chancre.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151305"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151306"/>Not likely.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151307"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="151308"/>I feel it.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151309"/>(Her hand slides into his left trouser pocket and brings out a hard
<lb n="151310"/>black shrivelled potato. She regards it and Bloom with dumb moist
<lb n="151311"/>lips.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151312"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151313"/>A talisman. Heirloom.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151314"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="151315"/>For Zoe? For keeps? For being so nice, eh?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151316"/>(She puts the potato greedily into a pocket then links his arm,
<lb n="151317"/>cuddling him with supple warmth. He smiles uneasily. Slowly, note
<lb n="151318"/>by note, oriental music is played. He gazes in the tawny crystal of
<lb n="151319"/>her eyes, ringed with kohol. His smile softens.)</stage>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151320"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="151321"/>You'll know me the next time.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151322"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151323"/>(forlornly)</stage> I never loved a dear gazelle but it was sure to ....</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151324"/>(Gazelles are leaping, feeding on the mountains. Near are lakes.
<lb n="151325"/>Round their shores file shadows black of cedargroves. Aroma rises,
<lb n="151326"/>a strong hairgrowth of resin. It burns, the orient, a sky of sapphire,
<lb n="151327"/>cleft by the bronze flight of eagles. Under it lies the womancity,
<lb n="151328"/>nude, white, still, cool, in luxury. A fountain murmurs among
<lb n="151329"/>damask roses. Mammoth roses murmur of scarlet winegrapes. A
<lb n="151330"/>wine of shame, lust, blood exudes, strangely murmuring.)</stage>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151331"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151332"/>(murmuring singsong with the music, her odalisk lips lusciously smeared
<lb n="151333"/>with salve of swinefat and rosewater)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="he">Schorach ani wenowach, benoith
<lb n="151334"/>Hierushaloim.</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151335"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151336"/>(fascinated)</stage> I thought you were of good stock by your accent.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151337"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="151338"/>And you know what thought did?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151339"/>(She bites his ear gently with little goldstopped teeth, sending on
<lb n="151340"/>him a cloying breath of stale garlic. The roses draw apart, disclose a
<lb n="151341"/>sepulchre of the gold of kings and their mouldering bones.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151342"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151343"/>(draws back, mechanically caressing her right bub with a flat awkward
<lb n="151344"/>hand)</stage> Are you a Dublin girl?</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151345"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151346"/>(catches a stray hair deftly and twists it to her coil)</stage> No bloody fear. I'm
<lb n="151347"/>English. Have you a swaggerroot?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151348"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151349"/>(as before)</stage> Rarely smoke, dear. Cigar now and then. Childish device.
<stage><lb n="151350"/>(lewdly)</stage> The mouth can be better engaged than with a cylinder of rank
<lb n="151351"/>weed.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151352"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="151353"/>Go on. Make a stump speech out of it.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151354"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151355"/>(in workman's corduroy overalls, black gansy with red floating tie and
<lb n="151356"/>apache cap)</stage> Mankind is incorrigible. Sir Walter Ralegh brought from the
<lb n="151357"/>new world that potato and that weed, the one a killer of pestilence by
<lb n="151358"/>absorption, the other a poisoner of the ear, eye, heart, memory, will,
<lb n="151359"/>understanding, all. That is to say he brought the poison a hundred years
<lb n="151360"/>before another person whose name I forget brought the food. Suicide. Lies.
<lb n="151361"/>All our habits. Why, look at our public life!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151362"/>(Midnight chimes from distant steeples.)</stage>
<sp who="The Chimes"><speaker><lb n="151363"/>The Chimes</speaker>
<p><lb n="151364"/>Turn again, Leopold! Lord mayor of Dublin!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151365"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151366"/>(in alderman's gown and chain)</stage> Electors of Arran Quay, Inns Quay,
<lb n="151367"/>Rotunda, Mountjoy and North Dock, better run a tramline, I say, from the
<lb n="151368"/>cattlemarket to the river. That's the music of the future. That's my
<lb n="151369"/>programme. <foreign xml:lang="la">Cui bono?</foreign> But our bucaneering Vanderdeckens in their
<lb n="151370"/>phantom ship of finance .....</p></sp>
<sp who="An Elector"><speaker><lb n="151371"/>An Elector</speaker>
<p><lb n="151372"/>Three times three for our future chief magistrate!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151373"/>(The aurora borealis of the torchlight procession leaps.)</stage>
<sp who="The Torchbearers"><speaker><lb n="151374"/>The Torchbearers</speaker>
<p><lb n="151375"/>Hooray!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151376"/>(Several wellknown burgesses, city magnates and freemen of the
<lb n="151377"/>city shake hands with Bloom and congratulate him. Timothy
<lb n="151378"/>Harrington, late thrice Lord Mayor of Dublin, imposing in mayoral
<lb n="151379"/>scarlet, gold chain and white silk tie, confers with councillor Lorcan
<lb n="151380"/>Sherlock, <foreign xml:lang="la">locum tenens</foreign>. They nod vigorously in agreement.)</stage>
<sp who="th"><speaker><lb n="151381"/>Late Lord Mayor Harrington</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151382"/>(in scarlet robe with mace, gold mayoral chain and large white silk scarf)</stage>
<lb n="151383"/>That alderman sir Leo Bloom's speech be printed at the expense of the
<lb n="151384"/>ratepayers. That the house in which he was born be ornamented with a
<lb n="151385"/>commemorative tablet and that the thoroughfare hitherto known as Cow
<lb n="151386"/>Parlour off Cork street be henceforth designated Boulevard Bloom.</p></sp>
<sp who="lsh"><speaker><lb n="151387"/>Councillor Lorcan Sherlock</speaker>
<p><lb n="151388"/>Carried unanimously.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151389"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151390"/>(impassionedly)</stage> These flying Dutchmen or lying Dutchmen as they recline
<lb n="151391"/>in their upholstered poop, casting dice, what reck they? Machines is their
<lb n="151392"/>cry, their chimera, their panacea. Laboursaving apparatuses, supplanters,
<lb n="151393"/>bugbears, manufactured monsters for mutual murder, hideous hobgoblins
<lb n="151394"/>produced by a horde of capitalistic lusts upon our prostituted labour. The
<lb n="151395"/>poor man starves while they are grassing their royal mountain stags or
<lb n="151396"/>shooting peasants and phartridges in their purblind pomp of pelf and
<lb n="151397"/>power. But their reign is rover for rever and ever and ev ...</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151398"/>(Prolonged applause. Venetian masts, maypoles and festal arches
<lb n="151399"/>spring up. A streamer bearing the legends <foreign xml:lang="ga">Cead Mile Failte</foreign> and <foreign xml:lang="he">
<lb n="151400"/>Mah Ttob Melek Israel</foreign> spans the street. All the windows are
<lb n="151401"/>thronged with sightseers, chiefly ladies. Along the route the
<lb n="151402"/>regiments of the Royal Dublin Fusiliers, the King's Own Scottish
<lb n="151403"/>Borderers, the Cameron Highlanders and the Welsh Fusiliers,
<lb n="151404"/>standing to attention, keep back the crowd. Boys from High school
<lb n="151405"/>are perched on the lampposts, telegraph poles, windowsills,
<lb n="151406"/>cornices, gutters, chimneypots, railings, rainspouts, whistling and
<lb n="151407"/>cheering. The pillar of the cloud appears. A fife and drum band is
<lb n="151408"/>heard in the distance playing the Kol Nidre. The beaters approach
<lb n="151409"/>with imperial eagles hoisted, trailing banners and waving oriental
<lb n="151410"/>palms. The chryselephantine papal standard rises high, surrounded
<lb n="151411"/>by pennons of the civic flag. The van of the procession appears
<lb n="151412"/>headed by John Howard Parnell, city marshal, in a chessboard
<lb n="151413"/>tabard, the Athlone poursuivant and Ulster King of Arms. They are
<lb n="151414"/>followed by the Right Honourable Joseph Hutchinson, lord mayor
<lb n="151415"/>of Dublin, his lordship the lord mayor of Cork, their worships the
<lb n="151416"/>mayors of Limerick, Galway, Sligo and Waterford, twentyeight
<lb n="151417"/>Irish representative peers, sirdars, grandees and maharajahs bearing
<lb n="151418"/>the cloth of estate, the Dublin Metropolitan Fire Brigade, the
<lb n="151419"/>chapter of the saints of finance in their plutocratic order of
<lb n="151420"/>precedence, the bishop of Down and Connor, His Eminence
<lb n="151421"/>Michael cardinal Logue, archbishop of Armagh, primate of all
<lb n="151422"/>Ireland, His Grace, the most reverend Dr William Alexander,
<lb n="151423"/>archbishop of Armagh, primate of all Ireland, the chief rabbi, the
<lb n="151424"/>presbyterian moderator, the heads of the baptist, anabaptist,
<lb n="151425"/>methodist and Moravian chapels and the honorary secretary of the
<lb n="151426"/>society of friends. After them march the guilds and trades and
<lb n="151427"/>trainbands with flying colours: coopers, bird fanciers, millwrights,
<lb n="151428"/>newspaper canvassers, law scriveners, masseurs, vintners,
<lb n="151429"/>trussmakers, chimneysweeps, lard refiners, tabinet and poplin
<lb n="151430"/>weavers, farriers, Italian warehousemen, church decorators,
<lb n="151431"/>bootjack manufacturers, undertakers, silk mercers, lapidaries,
<lb n="151432"/>salesmasters, corkcutters, assessors of fire losses, dyers and cleaners,
<lb n="151433"/>export bottlers, fellmongers, ticketwriters, heraldic seal engravers,
<lb n="151434"/>horse repository hands, bullion brokers, cricket and archery
<lb n="151435"/>outfitters, riddlemakers, egg and potato factors, hosiers and glovers,
<lb n="151436"/>plumbing contractors. After them march gentlemen of the
<lb n="151437"/>bedchamber, Black Rod, Deputy Garter, Gold Stick, the master of
<lb n="151438"/>horse, the lord great chamberlain, the earl marshal, the high
<lb n="151439"/>constable carrying the sword of state, saint Stephen's iron crown,
<lb n="151440"/>the chalice and bible. Four buglers on foot blow a sennet. Beefeaters
<lb n="151441"/>reply, winding clarions of welcome. Under an arch of triumph
<lb n="151442"/>Bloom appears, bareheaded, in a crimson velvet mantle trimmed
<lb n="151443"/>with ermine, bearing Saint Edward's staff, the orb and sceptre with
<lb n="151444"/>the dove, the curtana. He is seated on a milkwhite horse with long
<lb n="151445"/>flowing crimson tail, richly caparisoned, with golden headstall. Wild
<lb n="151446"/>excitement. The ladies from their balconies throw down rosepetals.
<lb n="151447"/>The air is perfumed with essences. The men cheer. Bloom's boys
<lb n="151448"/>run amid the bystanders with branches of hawthorn and
<lb n="151449"/>wrenbushes.)</stage>
<sp who="Bloom's Boys"><speaker><lb n="151450"/>Bloom's Boys</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="151451"/><l>The wren, the wren,</l>
<lb n="151452"/><l>The king of all birds,</l>
<lb n="151453"/><l>Saint Stephen's his day</l>
<lb n="151454"/><l>Was caught in the furze.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="ublack"><speaker><lb n="151455"/>A Blacksmith</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151456"/>(murmurs)</stage> For the honour of God! And is that Bloom? He scarcely looks
<lb n="151457"/>thirtyone.</p></sp>
<sp who="A Pavior and Flagger"><speaker><lb n="151458"/>A Pavior and Flagger</speaker>
<p><lb n="151459"/>That's the famous Bloom now, the world's greatest reformer. Hats off!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151460"/>(All uncover their heads. Women whisper eagerly.)</stage>
<sp who="A Millionairess"><speaker><lb n="151461"/>A Millionairess</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151462"/>(richly)</stage> Isn't he simply wonderful?</p></sp>
<sp who="A Noblewoman"><speaker><lb n="151463"/>A Noblewoman</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151464"/>(nobly)</stage> All that man has seen!</p></sp>
<sp who="A Feminist"><speaker><lb n="151465"/>A Feminist</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151466"/>(masculinely)</stage> And done!</p></sp>
<sp who="ubell"><speaker><lb n="151467"/>A Bellhanger</speaker>
<p><lb n="151468"/>A classic face! He has the forehead of a thinker.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151469"/>(Bloom's weather. A sunburst appears in the northwest.)</stage>
<sp who="The Bishop of Down and Connor Michael Cardinal Logue"><speaker><lb n="151470"/>The Bishop of Down and Connor</speaker>
<p><lb n="151471"/>I here present your undoubted emperor-president and king-chairman, the
<lb n="151472"/>most serene and potent and very puissant ruler of this realm. God save
<lb n="151473"/>Leopold the First!</p></sp>
<sp who="All"><speaker><lb n="151474"/>All</speaker>
<p><lb n="151475"/>God save Leopold the First!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151476"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151477"/>(in dalmatic and purple mantle, to the bishop of Down and Connor, with
<lb n="151478"/>dignity)</stage> Thanks, somewhat eminent sir.</p></sp>
<sp who="wa"><speaker><lb n="151479"/>William, Archbishop of Armagh</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151480"/>(in purple stock and shovel hat)</stage> Will you to your power cause law and
<lb n="151481"/>mercy to be executed in all your judgments in Ireland and territories
<lb n="151482"/>thereunto belonging?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151483"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151484"/>(placing his right hand on his testicles, swears)</stage> So may the Creator deal
<lb n="151485"/>with me. All this I promise to do.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Bishop of Down and Connor Michael Cardinal Logue"><speaker><lb n="151486"/>Michael, Archbishop of Armagh</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151487"/>(pours a cruse of hairoil over Bloom's head)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="la">Gaudium magnum annuntio
<lb n="151488"/>vobis. Habemus carneficem.</foreign> Leopold, Patrick, Andrew, David, George, be
<lb n="151489"/>thou anointed!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151490"/>(Bloom assumes a mantle of cloth of gold and puts on a ruby ring.
<lb n="151491"/>He ascends and stands on the stone of destiny. The representative
<lb n="151492"/>peers put on at the same time their twentyeight crowns. Joybells ring
<lb n="151493"/>in Christ church, Saint Patrick's, George's and gay Malahide.
<lb n="151494"/>Mirus bazaar fireworks go up from all sides with symbolical
<lb n="151495"/>phallopyrotechnic designs. The peers do homage, one by one,
<lb n="151496"/>approaching and genuflecting.)</stage>
<sp who="The Peers"><speaker><lb n="151497"/>The Peers</speaker>
<p><lb n="151498"/>I do become your liege man of life and limb to earthly worship.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151499"/>(Bloom holds up his right hand on which sparkles the Koh-i-Noor
<lb n="151500"/>diamond. His palfrey neighs. Immediate silence. Wireless
<lb n="151501"/>intercontinental and interplanetary transmitters are set for reception
<lb n="151502"/>of message.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151503"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151504"/>My subjects! We hereby nominate our faithful charger Copula Felix
<lb n="151505"/>hereditary Grand Vizier and announce that we have this day repudiated
<lb n="151506"/>our former spouse and have bestowed our royal hand upon the princess
<lb n="151507"/>Selene, the splendour of night.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151508"/>(The former morganatic spouse of Bloom is hastily removed in the
<lb n="151509"/>Black Maria. The princess Selene, in moonblue robes, a silver
<lb n="151510"/>crescent on her head, descends from a Sedan chair, borne by two
<lb n="151511"/>giants. An outburst of cheering.)</stage>
<sp who="jhp"><speaker><lb n="151512"/>John Howard Parnell</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151513"/>(raises the royal standard)</stage> Illustrious Bloom! Successor to my famous
<lb n="151514"/>brother!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151515"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151516"/>(embraces John Howard Parnell)</stage> We thank you from our heart, John, for
<lb n="151517"/>this right royal welcome to green Erin, the promised land of our common
<lb n="151518"/>ancestors.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151519"/>(The freedom of the city is presented to him embodied in a charter.
<lb n="151520"/>The keys of Dublin, crossed on a crimson cushion, are given to him.
<lb n="151521"/>He shows all that he is wearing green socks.)</stage>
<sp who="tk"><speaker><lb n="151522"/>Tom Kernan</speaker>
<p><lb n="151523"/>You deserve it, your honour.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151524"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151525"/>On this day twenty years ago we overcame the hereditary enemy at
<lb n="151526"/>Ladysmith. Our howitzers and camel swivel guns played on his lines with
<lb n="151527"/>telling effect. Half a league onward! They charge! All is lost now! Do we
<lb n="151528"/>yield? No! We drive them headlong! Lo! We charge! Deploying to the left
<lb n="151529"/>our light horse swept across the heights of Plevna and, uttering their warcry
<foreign xml:lang="la"><lb n="151530"/>Bonafide</foreign> <foreign xml:lang="grc-Latn">Sabaoth</foreign>, sabred the Saracen gunners to a man.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Chapel of Freeman Typesetters"><speaker><lb n="151531"/>The Chapel of Freeman Typesetters</speaker>
<p><lb n="151532"/>Hear! Hear!</p></sp>
<sp who="jwn"><speaker><lb n="151533"/>John Wyse Nolan</speaker>
<p><lb n="151534"/>There's the man that got away James Stephens.</p></sp>
<sp who="ublue"><speaker><lb n="151535"/>A Bluecoat Schoolboy</speaker>
<p><lb n="151536"/>Bravo!</p></sp>
<sp who="An Old Resident"><speaker><lb n="151537"/>An Old Resident</speaker>
<p><lb n="151538"/>You're a credit to your country, sir, that's what you are.</p></sp>
<sp who="ua2"><speaker><lb n="151539"/>An Applewoman</speaker>
<p><lb n="151540"/>He's a man like Ireland wants.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151541"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151542"/>My beloved subjects, a new era is about to dawn. I, Bloom, tell you verily it
<lb n="151543"/>is even now at hand. Yea, on the word of a Bloom, ye shall ere long enter
<lb n="151544"/>into the golden city which is to be, the new Bloomusalem in the Nova
<lb n="151545"/>Hibernia of the future.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151546"/>(Thirtytwo workmen, wearing rosettes, from all the counties of
<lb n="151547"/>Ireland, under the guidance of Derwan the builder, construct the
<lb n="151548"/>new Bloomusalem. It is a colossal edifice with crystal roof, built in
<lb n="151549"/>the shape of a huge pork kidney, containing forty thousand rooms.
<lb n="151550"/>In the course of its extension several buildings and monuments are
<lb n="151551"/>demolished. Government offices are temporarily transferred to
<lb n="151552"/>railway sheds. Numerous houses are razed to the ground. The
<lb n="151553"/>inhabitants are lodged in barrels and boxes, all marked in red with
<lb n="151554"/>the letters: L. B. Several paupers fall from a ladder. A part of the
<lb n="151555"/>walls of Dublin, crowded with loyal sightseers, collapses.)</stage>
<sp who="The Sightseers"><speaker><lb n="151556"/>The Sightseers</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151557"/>(dying)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="la">Morituri te salutant.</foreign> <stage>(they die)</stage></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151558"/>(A man in a brown macintosh springs up through a trapdoor. He
<lb n="151559"/>points an elongated finger at Bloom.)</stage>
<sp who="mac"><speaker><lb n="151560"/>The Man in the Macintosh</speaker>
<p><lb n="151561"/>Don't you believe a word he says. That man is Leopold M'Intosh, the
<lb n="151562"/>notorious fireraiser. His real name is Higgins.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151563"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151564"/>Shoot him! Dog of a christian! So much for M'Intosh!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151565"/>(A cannonshot. The man in the macintosh disappears. Bloom with
<lb n="151566"/>his sceptre strikes down poppies. The instantaneous deaths of many
<lb n="151567"/>powerful enemies, graziers, members of parliament, members of
<lb n="151568"/>standing committees, are reported. Bloom's bodyguard distribute
<lb n="151569"/>Maundy money, commemoration medals, loaves and fishes,
<lb n="151570"/>temperance badges, expensive Henry Clay cigars, free cowbones for
<lb n="151571"/>soup, rubber preservatives in sealed envelopes tied with gold thread,
<lb n="151572"/>butter scotch, pineapple rock, <foreign xml:lang="fr">billets doux</foreign> in the form of cocked
<lb n="151573"/>hats, readymade suits, porringers of toad in the hole, bottles of
<lb n="151574"/>Jeyes' Fluid, purchase stamps, 40 days' indulgences, spurious coins,
<lb n="151575"/>dairyfed pork sausages, theatre passes, season tickets available for
<lb n="151576"/>all tramlines, coupons of the royal and privileged Hungarian
<lb n="151577"/>lottery, penny dinner counters, cheap reprints of the World's Twelve
<lb n="151578"/>Worst Books: Froggy and Fritz (politic), Care of the Baby
<lb n="151579"/>(infantilic), 50 Meals for 7/6 (culinic), Was Jesus a Sun Myth?
<lb n="151580"/>(historic), Expel That Pain (medic), Infant's Compendium of the
<lb n="151581"/>Universe (cosmic), Let's All Chortle (hilaric), Canvasser's Vade
<lb n="151582"/>Mecum (journalic), Loveletters of Mother Assistant (erotic), Who's
<lb n="151583"/>Who in Space (astric), Songs that Reached Our Heart (melodic),
<lb n="151584"/>Pennywise's Way to Wealth (parsimonic). A general rush and
<lb n="151585"/>scramble. Women press forward to touch the hem of Bloom's robe.
<lb n="151586"/>The lady Gwendolen Dubedat bursts through the throng, leaps on
<lb n="151587"/>his horse and kisses him on both cheeks amid great acclamation. A
<lb n="151588"/>magnesium flashlight photograph is taken. Babes and sucklings are
<lb n="151589"/>held up.)</stage>
<sp who="The Women"><speaker><lb n="151590"/>The Women</speaker>
<p><lb n="151591"/>Little father! Little father!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Babes and Sucklings"><speaker><lb n="151592"/>The Babes and Sucklings</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="151593"/><l>Clap clap hands till Poldy comes home,</l>
<lb n="151594"/><l>Cakes in his pocket for Leo alone.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<stage><lb n="151595"/>(Bloom, bending down, pokes Baby Boardman gently in the
<lb n="151596"/>stomach.)</stage>
<sp who="bb"><speaker><lb n="151597"/>Baby Boardman</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151598"/>(hiccups, curdled milk flowing from his mouth)</stage> Hajajaja.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151599"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151600"/>(shaking hands with a blind stripling)</stage> My more than Brother! <stage>(placing his
<lb n="151601"/>arms round the shoulders of an old couple)</stage> Dear old friends! <stage>(he plays
<lb n="151602"/>pussy fourcorners with ragged boys and girls)</stage> Peep! Bopeep! <stage>(he wheels
<lb n="151603"/>twins in a perambulator)</stage> Ticktacktwo wouldyousetashoe? <stage>(he performs
<lb n="151604"/>juggler's tricks, draws red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet
<lb n="151605"/>silk handkerchiefs from his mouth)</stage> Roygbiv. 32 feet per second. <stage>(he
<lb n="151606"/>consoles a widow)</stage> Absence makes the heart grow younger. <stage>(he dances the
<lb n="151607"/>Highland fling with grotesque antics)</stage> Leg it, ye devils! <stage>(he kisses the
<lb n="151608"/>bedsores of a palsied veteran)</stage> Honourable wounds! <stage>(he trips up a fat
<lb n="151609"/>policeman)</stage> U. p: up. U. p: up. <stage>(he whispers in the ear of a blushing
<lb n="151610"/>waitress and laughs kindly)</stage> Ah, naughty, naughty! <stage>(he eats a raw turnip
<lb n="151611"/>offered him by Maurice Butterly, farmer)</stage> Fine! Splendid! <stage>(he refuses to
<lb n="151612"/>accept three shillings offered him by Joseph Hynes, journalist)</stage> My dear
<lb n="151613"/>fellow, not at all! <stage>(he gives his coat to a beggar)</stage> Please accept. <stage>(he takes
<lb n="151614"/>part in a stomach race with elderly male and female cripples)</stage> Come on,
<lb n="151615"/>boys! Wriggle it, girls!</p></sp>
<sp who="tc"><speaker><lb n="151616"/>The Citizen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151617"/>(choked with emotion, brushes aside a tear in his emerald muffler)</stage> May the
<lb n="151618"/>good God bless him!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151619"/>(The rams' horns sound for silence. The standard of Zion is
<lb n="151620"/>hoisted.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151621"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151622"/>(uncloaks impressively, revealing obesity, unrolls a paper and reads
<lb n="151623"/>solemnly)</stage> Aleph Beth Ghimel Daleth Hagadah Tephilim Kosher Yom
<lb n="151624"/>Kippur Hanukah Roschaschana Beni Brith Bar Mitzvah Mazzoth
<lb n="151625"/>Askenazim Meshuggah Talith.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151626"/>(An official translation is read by Jimmy Henry, assistant town
<lb n="151627"/>clerk.)</stage>
<sp who="jih"><speaker><lb n="151628"/>Jimmy Henry</speaker>
<p><lb n="151629"/>The Court of Conscience is now open. His Most Catholic Majesty will now
<lb n="151630"/>administer open air justice. Free medical and legal advice, solution of
<lb n="151631"/>doubles and other problems. All cordially invited. Given at this our loyal
<lb n="151632"/>city of Dublin in the year 1 of the Paradisiacal Era.</p></sp>
<sp who="pl"><speaker><lb n="151633"/>Paddy Leonard</speaker>
<p><lb n="151634"/>What am I to do about my rates and taxes?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151635"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151636"/>Pay them, my friend.</p></sp>
<sp who="pl"><speaker><lb n="151637"/>Paddy Leonard</speaker>
<p><lb n="151638"/>Thank you.</p></sp>
<sp who="nf"><speaker><lb n="151639"/>Nosey Flynn</speaker>
<p><lb n="151640"/>Can I raise a mortgage on my fire insurance?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151641"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151642"/>(obdurately)</stage> Sirs, take notice that by the law of torts you are bound over
<lb n="151643"/>in your own recognisances for six months in the sum of five pounds.</p></sp>
<sp who="jjom"><speaker><lb n="151644"/>J. J. O'Molloy</speaker>
<p><lb n="151645"/>A Daniel did I say? Nay! A Peter O'Brien!</p></sp>
<sp who="nf"><speaker><lb n="151646"/>Nosey Flynn</speaker>
<p><lb n="151647"/>Where do I draw the five pounds?</p></sp>
<sp who="apb"><speaker><lb n="151648"/>Pisser Burke</speaker>
<p><lb n="151649"/>For bladder trouble?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151650"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><emph><lb n="151651"/>Acid. nit. hydrochlor. dil.</emph>, 20 minims
<emph><lb n="151652"/>Tinct. nux vom.</emph>, 5 minims
<emph><lb n="151653"/>Extr. taraxel. liq.</emph>, 30 minims.
<emph><lb n="151654"/>Aq. dis. ter in die.</emph></p></sp>
<sp who="chc"><speaker><lb n="151655"/>Chris Callinan</speaker>
<p><lb n="151656"/>What is the parallax of the subsolar ecliptic of Aldebaran?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151657"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151658"/>Pleased to hear from you, Chris. K. 11.</p></sp>
<sp who="jh"><speaker><lb n="151659"/>Joe Hynes</speaker>
<p><lb n="151660"/>Why aren't you in uniform?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151661"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151662"/>When my progenitor of sainted memory wore the uniform of the Austrian
<lb n="151663"/>despot in a dank prison where was yours?</p></sp>
<sp who="bed"><speaker><lb n="151664"/>Ben Dollard</speaker>
<p><lb n="151665"/>Pansies?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151666"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151667"/>Embellish (beautify) suburban gardens.</p></sp>
<sp who="bed"><speaker><lb n="151668"/>Ben Dollard</speaker>
<p><lb n="151669"/>When twins arrive?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151670"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151671"/>Father (pater, dad) starts thinking.</p></sp>
<sp who="lor"><speaker><lb n="151672"/>Larry O'Rourke</speaker>
<p><lb n="151673"/>An eightday licence for my new premises. You remember me, sir Leo, when
<lb n="151674"/>you were in number seven. I'm sending around a dozen of stout for the
<lb n="151675"/>missus.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151676"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151677"/>(coldly)</stage> You have the advantage of me. Lady Bloom accepts no presents.</p></sp>
<sp who="cr"><speaker><lb n="151678"/>Crofton</speaker>
<p><lb n="151679"/>This is indeed a festivity.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151680"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151681"/>(solemnly)</stage> You call it a festivity. I call it a sacrament.</p></sp>
<sp who="ak"><speaker><lb n="151682"/>Alexander Keyes</speaker>
<p><lb n="151683"/>When will we have our own house of keys?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151684"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151685"/>I stand for the reform of municipal morals and the plain ten
<lb n="151686"/>commandments. New worlds for old. Union of all, jew, moslem and gentile.
<lb n="151687"/>Three acres and a cow for all children of nature. Saloon motor hearses.
<lb n="151688"/>Compulsory manual labour for all. All parks open to the public day and
<lb n="151689"/>night. Electric dishscrubbers. Tuberculosis, lunacy, war and mendicancy
<lb n="151690"/>must now cease. General amnesty, weekly carnival with masked licence,
<lb n="151691"/>bonuses for all, esperanto the universal language with universal
<lb n="151692"/>brotherhood. No more patriotism of barspongers and dropsical impostors.
<lb n="151693"/>Free money, free rent, free love and a free lay church in a free lay state.</p></sp>
<sp who="omb"><speaker><lb n="151694"/>O'Madden Burke</speaker>
<p><lb n="151695"/>Free fox in a free henroost.</p></sp>
<sp who="db"><speaker><lb n="151696"/>Davy Byrne</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151697"/>(yawning)</stage> Iiiiiiiiiaaaaaaach!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151698"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151699"/>Mixed races and mixed marriage.</p></sp>
<sp who="len"><speaker><lb n="151700"/>Lenehan</speaker>
<p><lb n="151701"/>What about mixed bathing?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151702"/>(Bloom explains to those near him his schemes for social
<lb n="151703"/>regeneration. All agree with him. The keeper of the Kildare street
<lb n="151704"/>museum appears, dragging a lorry on which are the shaking statues
<lb n="151705"/>of several naked goddesses, Venus Callipyge, Venus Pandemos,
<lb n="151706"/>Venus Metempsychosis, and plaster figures, also naked, representing
<lb n="151707"/>the new nine muses, Commerce, Operatic Music, Amor, Publicity,
<lb n="151708"/>Manufacture, Liberty of Speech, Plural Voting, Gastronomy,
<lb n="151709"/>Private Hygiene, Seaside Concert Entertainments, Painless
<lb n="151710"/>Obstetrics and Astronomy for the People.)</stage>
<sp who="frf"><speaker><lb n="151711"/>Father Farley</speaker>
<p><lb n="151712"/>He is an episcopalian, an agnostic, an anythingarian seeking to overthrow
<lb n="151713"/>our holy faith.</p></sp>
<sp who="dr"><speaker><lb n="151714"/>Mrs Riordan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151715"/>(tears up her will)</stage> I'm disappointed in you! You bad man!</p></sp>
<sp who="mg"><speaker><lb n="151716"/>Mother Grogan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151717"/>(removes her boot to throw it at Bloom)</stage> You beast! You abominable
<lb n="151718"/>person!</p></sp>
<sp who="nf"><speaker><lb n="151719"/>Nosey Flynn</speaker>
<p><lb n="151720"/>Give us a tune, Bloom. One of the old sweet songs.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151721"/>Bloom</speaker>
<stage><lb n="151722"/>(with rollicking humour)</stage>
<quote><lg><lb n="151723"/><l>I vowed that I never would leave her,</l>
<lb n="151724"/><l>She turned out a cruel deceiver.</l>
<lb n="151725"/><l>With my tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="hh"><speaker><lb n="151726"/>Hoppy Holohan</speaker>
<p><lb n="151727"/>Good old Bloom! There's nobody like him after all.</p></sp>
<sp who="pl"><speaker><lb n="151728"/>Paddy Leonard</speaker>
<p><lb n="151729"/>Stage Irishman!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151730"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151731"/>What railway opera is like a tramline in Gibraltar? The Rows of Casteele.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151732"/>(Laughter.)</stage>
<sp who="len"><speaker><lb n="151733"/>Lenehan</speaker>
<p><lb n="151734"/>Plagiarist! Down with Bloom!</p></sp>
<sp who="vsbyl"><speaker><lb n="151735"/>The Veiled Sibyl</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151736"/>(enthusiastically)</stage> I'm a Bloomite and I glory in it. I believe in him in spite
<lb n="151737"/>of all. I'd give my life for him, the funniest man on earth.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151738"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151739"/>(winks at the bystanders)</stage> I bet she's a bonny lassie.</p></sp>
<sp who="tp"><speaker><lb n="151740"/>Theodore Purefoy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151741"/>(in fishingcap and oilskin jacket)</stage> He employs a mechanical device to
<lb n="151742"/>frustrate the sacred ends of nature.</p></sp>
<sp who="vsbyl"><speaker><lb n="151743"/>The Veiled Sibyl</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151744"/>(stabs herself)</stage> My hero god! <stage>(she dies)</stage></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151745"/>(Many most attractive and enthusiastic women also commit suicide
<lb n="151746"/>by stabbing, drowning, drinking prussic acid, aconite, arsenic,
<lb n="151747"/>opening their veins, refusing food, casting themselves under
<lb n="151748"/>steamrollers, from the top of Nelson's Pillar, into the great vat of
<lb n="151749"/>Guinness's brewery, asphyxiating themselves by placing their heads
<lb n="151750"/>in gasovens, hanging themselves in stylish garters, leaping from
<lb n="151751"/>windows of different storeys.)</stage>
<sp who="ajd"><speaker><lb n="151752"/>Alexander J Dowie</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151753"/>(violently)</stage> Fellowchristians and antiBloomites, the man called Bloom is
<lb n="151754"/>from the roots of hell, a disgrace to christian men. A fiendish libertine from
<lb n="151755"/>his earliest years this stinking goat of Mendes gave precocious signs of
<lb n="151756"/>infantile debauchery, recalling the cities of the plain, with a dissolute
<lb n="151757"/>granddam. This vile hypocrite, bronzed with infamy, is the white bull
<lb n="151758"/>mentioned in the Apocalypse. A worshipper of the Scarlet Woman, intrigue
<lb n="151759"/>is the very breath of his nostrils. The stake faggots and the caldron of
<lb n="151760"/>boiling oil are for him. Caliban!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Mob"><speaker><lb n="151761"/>The Mob</speaker>
<p><lb n="151762"/>Lynch him! Roast him! He's as bad as Parnell was. Mr Fox!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151763"/>(Mother Grogan throws her boot at Bloom. Several shopkeepers
<lb n="151764"/>from upper and lower Dorset street throw objects of little or no
<lb n="151765"/>commercial value, hambones, condensed milk tins, unsaleable
<lb n="151766"/>cabbage, stale bread, sheep's tails, odd pieces of fat.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151767"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151768"/>(excitedly)</stage> This is midsummer madness, some ghastly joke again. By
<lb n="151769"/>heaven, I am guiltless as the unsunned snow! It was my brother Henry. He
<lb n="151770"/>is my double. He lives in number 2 Dolphin's Barn. Slander, the viper, has
<lb n="151771"/>wrongfully accused me. Fellowcountrymen, <foreign xml:lang="ga">sgeul i mbarr bata coisde gan
<lb n="151772"/>capall</foreign>. I call on my old friend, Dr Malachi Mulligan, sex specialist, to give
<lb n="151773"/>medical testimony on my behalf.</p></sp>
<sp who="bm"><speaker><lb n="151774"/>Dr Mulligan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151775"/>(in motor jerkin, green motorgoggles on his brow)</stage> Dr Bloom is bisexually
<lb n="151776"/>abnormal. He has recently escaped from Dr Eustace's private asylum for
<lb n="151777"/>demented gentlemen. Born out of <distinct xml:id="#151777-bedlock">bedlock</distinct> hereditary epilepsy is present, the
<lb n="151778"/>consequence of unbridled lust. Traces of elephantiasis have been discovered
<lb n="151779"/>among his ascendants. There are marked symptoms of chronic
<lb n="151780"/>exhibitionism. Ambidexterity is also latent. He is prematurely bald from
<lb n="151781"/>selfabuse, perversely idealistic in consequence, a reformed rake, and has
<lb n="151782"/>metal teeth. In consequence of a family complex he has temporarily lost his
<lb n="151783"/>memory and I believe him to be more sinned against than sinning. I have
<lb n="151784"/>made a pervaginal examination and, after application of the acid test to
<lb n="151785"/>5427 anal, axillary, pectoral and pubic hairs, I declare him to be <foreign xml:lang="la">virgo
<lb n="151786"/>intacta</foreign>.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151787"/>(Bloom holds his high grade hat over his genital organs.)</stage>
<sp who="drm"><speaker><lb n="151788"/>Dr Madden</speaker>
<p><lb n="151789"/>Hypsospadia is also marked. In the interest of coming generations I suggest
<lb n="151790"/>that the parts affected should be preserved in spirits of wine in the national
<lb n="151791"/>teratological museum.</p></sp>
<sp who="drc"><speaker><lb n="151792"/>Dr Crotthers</speaker>
<p><lb n="151793"/>I have examined the patient's urine. It is albuminoid. Salivation is
<lb n="151794"/>insufficient, the patellar reflex intermittent.</p></sp>
<sp who="pc"><speaker><lb n="151795"/>Dr Punch Costello</speaker>
<p><lb n="151796"/>The <foreign xml:lang="la">fetor judaicus</foreign> is most perceptible.</p></sp>
<sp who="drd"><speaker><lb n="151797"/>Dr Dixon</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151798"/>(reads a bill of health)</stage> Professor Bloom is a finished example of the new
<lb n="151799"/>womanly man. His moral nature is simple and lovable. Many have found
<lb n="151800"/>him a dear man, a dear person. He is a rather quaint fellow on the whole,
<lb n="151801"/>coy though not feebleminded in the medical sense. He has written a really
<lb n="151802"/>beautiful letter, a poem in itself, to the court missionary of the Reformed
<lb n="151803"/>Priests' Protection Society which clears up everything. He is practically a
<lb n="151804"/>total abstainer and I can affirm that he sleeps on a straw litter and eats the
<lb n="151805"/>most Spartan food, cold dried grocer's peas. He wears a hairshirt of pure
<lb n="151806"/>Irish manufacture winter and summer and scourges himself every
<lb n="151807"/>Saturday. He was, I understand, at one time a firstclass misdemeanant in
<lb n="151808"/>Glencree reformatory. Another report states that he was a very posthumous
<lb n="151809"/>child. I appeal for clemency in the name of the most sacred word our vocal
<lb n="151810"/>organs have ever been called upon to speak. He is about to have a baby.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151811"/>(General commotion and compassion. Women faint. A wealthy
<lb n="151812"/>American makes a street collection for Bloom. Gold and silver
<lb n="151813"/>coins, blank cheques, banknotes, jewels, treasury bonds, maturing
<lb n="151814"/>bills of exchange, I. O. U's, wedding rings, watchchains, lockets,
<lb n="151815"/>necklaces and bracelets are rapidly collected.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151816"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="151817"/>O, I so want to be a mother.</p></sp>
<sp who="mrst"><speaker><lb n="151818"/>Mrs Thornton</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151819"/>(in nursetender's gown)</stage> Embrace me tight, dear. You'll be soon over it.
<lb n="151820"/>Tight, dear.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151821"/>(Bloom embraces her tightly and bears eight male yellow and white
<lb n="151822"/>children. They appear on a redcarpeted staircase adorned with
<lb n="151823"/>expensive plants. All the octuplets are handsome, with valuable
<lb n="151824"/>metallic faces, wellmade, respectably dressed and wellconducted,
<lb n="151825"/>speaking five modern languages fluently and interested in various
<lb n="151826"/>arts and sciences. Each has his name printed in legible letters on his
<lb n="151827"/>shirtfront: Nasodoro, Goldfinger, Chrysostomos, Maindorée,
<lb n="151828"/>Silversmile, Silberselber, Vifargent, Panargyros. They are
<lb n="151829"/>immediately appointed to positions of high public trust in several
<lb n="151830"/>different countries as managing directors of banks, traffic managers
<lb n="151831"/>of railways, chairmen of limited liability companies, vicechairmen
<lb n="151832"/>of hotel syndicates.)</stage>
<sp who="A Voice"><speaker><lb n="151833"/>A Voice</speaker>
<p><lb n="151834"/>Bloom, are you the Messiah ben Joseph or ben David?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151835"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151836"/>(darkly)</stage> You have said it.</p></sp>
<sp who="Brother Buzz"><speaker><lb n="151837"/>Brother Buzz</speaker>
<p><lb n="151838"/>Then perform a miracle like Father Charles.</p></sp>
<sp who="bl"><speaker><lb n="151839"/>Bantam Lyons</speaker>
<p><lb n="151840"/>Prophesy who will win the Saint Leger.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151841"/>(Bloom walks on a net, covers his left eye with his left ear, passes
<lb n="151842"/>through several walls, climbs Nelson's Pillar, hangs from the top
<lb n="151843"/>ledge by his eyelids, eats twelve dozen oysters (shells included),
<lb n="151844"/>heals several sufferers from king's evil, contracts his face so as to
<lb n="151845"/>resemble many historical personages, Lord Beaconsfield, Lord
<lb n="151846"/>Byron, Wat Tyler, Moses of Egypt, Moses Maimonides, Moses
<lb n="151847"/>Mendelssohn, Henry Irving, Rip van Winkle, Kossuth, Jean Jacques
<lb n="151848"/>Rousseau, Baron Leopold Rothschild, Robinson Crusoe, Sherlock
<lb n="151849"/>Holmes, Pasteur, turns each foot simultaneously in different
<lb n="151850"/>directions, bids the tide turn back, eclipses the sun by extending his
<lb n="151851"/>little finger.)</stage>
<sp who="Brini Papal Nuncio"><speaker><lb n="151852"/>Brini, Papal Nuncio</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151853"/>(in papal zouave's uniform, steel cuirasses as breastplate, armplates,
<lb n="151854"/>thighplates, legplates, large profane moustaches and brown paper mitre)</stage>
<foreign xml:lang="la"><lb n="151855"/>Leopoldi autem generatio.</foreign> Moses begat Noah and Noah begat Eunuch and
<lb n="151856"/>Eunuch begat O'Halloran and O'Halloran begat Guggenheim and
<lb n="151857"/>Guggenheim begat Agendath and Agendath begat Netaim and Netaim
<lb n="151858"/>begat Le Hirsch and Le Hirsch begat Jesurum and Jesurum begat MacKay
<lb n="151859"/>and MacKay begat Ostrolopsky and Ostrolopsky begat Smerdoz and
<lb n="151860"/>Smerdoz begat Weiss and Weiss begat Schwarz and Schwarz begat
<lb n="151861"/>Adrianopoli and Adrianopoli begat Aranjuez and Aranjuez begat Lewy
<lb n="151862"/>Lawson and Lewy Lawson begat Ichabudonosor and Ichabudonosor begat
<lb n="151863"/>O'Donnell Magnus and O'Donnell Magnus begat Christbaum and
<lb n="151864"/>Christbaum begat ben Maimun and ben Maimun begat Dusty Rhodes and
<lb n="151865"/>Dusty Rhodes begat Benamor and Benamor begat Jones-Smith and
<lb n="151866"/>Jones-Smith begat Savorgnanovich and Savorgnanovich begat Jasperstone
<lb n="151867"/>and Jasperstone begat Vingtetunieme and Vingtetunieme begat
<lb n="151868"/>Szombathely and Szombathely begat Virag and Virag begat Bloom <foreign xml:lang="la">et
<lb n="151869"/>vocabitur nomen eius Emmanuel</foreign>.</p></sp>
<sp who="A Deadhand"><speaker><lb n="151870"/>A Deadhand</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151871"/>(writes on the wall)</stage> Bloom is a cod.</p></sp>
<sp who="Crab"><speaker><lb n="151872"/>Crab</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151873"/>(in bushranger's kit)</stage> What did you do in the cattlecreep behind
<lb n="151874"/>Kilbarrack?</p></sp>
<sp who="A Female Infant"><speaker><lb n="151875"/>A Female Infant</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151876"/>(shakes a rattle)</stage> And under Ballybough bridge?</p></sp>
<sp who="A Hollybush"><speaker><lb n="151877"/>A Hollybush</speaker>
<p><lb n="151878"/>And in the devil's glen?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151879"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151880"/>(blushes furiously all over from frons to nates, three tears falling from his
<lb n="151881"/>left eye)</stage> Spare my past.</p></sp>
<sp who="ets"><speaker><lb n="151882"/>The Irish Evicted Tenants</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151883"/>(in bodycoats, kneebreeches, with Donnybrook fair shillelaghs)</stage> Sjambok
<lb n="151884"/>him!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151885"/>(Bloom with asses' ears seats himself in the pillory with crossed
<lb n="151886"/>arms, his feet protruding. He whistles <foreign xml:lang="it">Don Giovanni, a cenar teco</foreign>.
<lb n="151887"/>Artane orphans, joining hands, caper round him. Girls of the Prison
<lb n="151888"/>Gate Mission, joining hands, caper round in the opposite direction.)</stage>
<sp who="The Artane Orphans"><speaker><lb n="151889"/>The Artane Orphans</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="151890"/><l>You hig, you hog, you dirty dog!</l>
<lb n="151891"/><l>You think the ladies love you!</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="The Prison Gate Girls"><speaker><lb n="151892"/>The Prison Gate Girls</speaker>
<lg><lb n="151893"/><l>If you see Kay</l>
<lb n="151894"/><l>Tell him he may</l>
<lb n="151895"/><l>See you in tea</l>
<lb n="151896"/><l>Tell him from me.</l></lg></sp>
<sp who="Hornblower"><speaker><lb n="151897"/>Hornblower</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151898"/>(in ephod and huntingcap, announces)</stage> And he shall carry the sins of the
<lb n="151899"/>people to Azazel, the spirit which is in the wilderness, and to Lilith, the
<lb n="151900"/>nighthag. And they shall stone him and defile him, yea, all from Agendath
<lb n="151901"/>Netaim and from Mizraim, the land of Ham.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151902"/>(All the people cast soft pantomime stones at Bloom. Many bonafide
<lb n="151903"/>travellers and ownerless dogs come near him and defile him.
<lb n="151904"/>Mastiansky and Citron approach in gaberdines, wearing long
<lb n="151905"/>earlocks. They wag their beards at Bloom.)</stage>
<sp who="Julius Mastiansky AND Citron"><speaker><lb n="151906"/>Mastiansky and Citron</speaker>
<p><lb n="151907"/>Belial! Laemlein of Istria, the false Messiah! Abulafia! Recant!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151908"/>(George R Mesias, Bloom's tailor, appears, a tailor's goose under
<lb n="151909"/>his arm, presenting a bill.)</stage>
<sp who="grm"><speaker><lb n="151910"/>Mesias</speaker>
<p><lb n="151911"/>To alteration one pair trousers eleven shillings.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151912"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151913"/>(rubs his hands cheerfully)</stage> Just like old times. Poor Bloom!</p></sp>
<p><lb n="151914"/>[EMPTY]</p>
<p><lb n="151915"/>[EMPTY]</p>
<p><lb n="151916"/>[EMPTY]</p>
<p><lb n="151917"/>[EMPTY]</p>
<stage><lb n="151918"/>(Reuben J Dodd, blackbearded Iscariot, bad shepherd, bearing on
<lb n="151919"/>his shoulders the drowned corpse of his son, approaches the
<lb n="151920"/>pillory.)</stage>
<sp who="rjd"><speaker><lb n="151921"/>Reuben J</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151922"/>(whispers hoarsely)</stage> The squeak is out. A split is gone for the flatties. Nip
<lb n="151923"/>the first rattler.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Fire Brigade"><speaker><lb n="151924"/>The Fire Brigade</speaker>
<p><lb n="151925"/>Pflaap!</p></sp>
<sp who="Brother Buzz"><speaker><lb n="151926"/>Brother Buzz</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151927"/>(Invests Bloom in a yellow habit with embroidery of painted flames and
<lb n="151928"/>high pointed hat. He places a bag of gunpowder round his neck and hands
<lb n="151929"/>him over to the civil power, saying)</stage> Forgive him his trespasses.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151930"/>(Lieutenant Myers of the Dublin Fire Brigade by general request
<lb n="151931"/>sets fire to Bloom. Lamentations.)</stage>
<sp who="tc"><speaker><lb n="151932"/>The Citizen</speaker>
<p><lb n="151933"/>Thank heaven!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151934"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151935"/>(in a seamless garment marked I. H. S. stands upright amid phoenix
<lb n="151936"/>flames)</stage> Weep not for me, O daughters of Erin. <stage>(he exhibits to Dublin
<lb n="151937"/>reporters traces of burning)</stage></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="151938"/>(The daughters of Erin, in black garments, with large prayerbooks
<lb n="151939"/>and long lighted candles in their hands, kneel down and pray.)</stage>
<sp who="The Daughters of Erin"><speaker><lb n="151940"/>The Daughters of Erin</speaker>
<lg><lb n="151941"/><l>Kidney of Bloom, pray for us</l>
 <lb n="151942"/><l>Flower of the Bath, pray for us</l>
 <lb n="151943"/><l>Mentor of Menton, pray for us</l>
 <lb n="151944"/><l>Canvasser for the Freeman, pray for us</l>
 <lb n="151945"/><l>Charitable Mason, pray for us</l>
 <lb n="151946"/><l>Wandering Soap, pray for us</l>
 <lb n="151947"/><l>Sweets of Sin, pray for us</l>
 <lb n="151948"/><l>Music without Words, pray for us</l>
 <lb n="151949"/><l>Reprover of the Citizen, pray for us</l>
 <lb n="151950"/><l>Friend of all Frillies, pray for us</l>
 <lb n="151951"/><l>Midwife Most Merciful, pray for us</l>
 <lb n="151952"/><l>Potato Preservative against Plague and Pestilence, pray for us.</l></lg></sp>
<stage><lb n="151953"/>(A choir of six hundred voices, conducted by Vincent O'Brien,
<lb n="151954"/>sings the chorus from Handel's Messiah <quote>Alleluia for the Lord God
<lb n="151955"/>Omnipotent reigneth</quote>, accompanied on the organ by Joseph Glynn.
<lb n="151956"/>Bloom becomes mute, shrunken, carbonised.)</stage>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151957"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="151958"/>Talk away till you're black in the face.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151959"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151960"/>(in caubeen with clay pipe stuck in the band, dusty brogues, an emigrant's
<lb n="151961"/>red handkerchief bundle in his hand, leading a black bogoak pig by a
<lb n="151962"/>sugaun, with a smile in his eye)</stage> Let me be going now, woman of the house,
<lb n="151963"/>for by all the goats in Connemara I'm after having the father and mother of
<lb n="151964"/>a bating. <stage>(with a tear in his eye)</stage> All insanity. Patriotism, sorrow for the
<lb n="151965"/>dead, music, future of the race. To be or not to be. Life's dream is o'er. End
<lb n="151966"/>it peacefully. They can live on. <stage>(he gazes far away mournfully)</stage> I am
<lb n="151967"/>ruined. A few pastilles of aconite. The blinds drawn. A letter. Then lie back
<lb n="151968"/>to rest. <stage>(he breathes softly)</stage> No more. I have lived. Fare. Farewell.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151969"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151970"/>(stiffly, her finger in her neckfillet)</stage> Honest? Till the next time. <stage>(she sneers)</stage>
<lb n="151971"/>Suppose you got up the wrong side of the bed or came too quick with your
<lb n="151972"/>best girl. O, I can read your thoughts!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151973"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151974"/>(bitterly)</stage> Man and woman, love, what is it? A cork and bottle. I'm sick of
<lb n="151975"/>it. Let everything rip.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151976"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151977"/>(in sudden sulks)</stage> I hate a rotter that's insincere. Give a bleeding whore a
<lb n="151978"/>chance.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151979"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151980"/>(repentantly)</stage> I am very disagreeable. You are a necessary evil. Where are
<lb n="151981"/>you from? London?</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151982"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151983"/>(glibly)</stage> Hog's Norton where the pigs plays the organs. I'm Yorkshire
<lb n="151984"/>born. <stage>(she holds his hand which is feeling for her nipple)</stage> I say, Tommy
<lb n="151985"/>Tittlemouse. Stop that and begin worse. Have you cash for a short time?
<lb n="151986"/>Ten shillings?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151987"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151988"/>(smiles, nods slowly)</stage> More, houri, more.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151989"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="151990"/>And more's mother? <stage>(she pats him offhandedly with velvet paws)</stage> Are you
<lb n="151991"/>coming into the musicroom to see our new pianola? Come and I'll peel off.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="151992"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151993"/>(feeling his occiput dubiously with the unparalleled embarrassment of a
<lb n="151994"/>harassed pedlar gauging the symmetry of her peeled pears)</stage> Somebody
<lb n="151995"/>would be dreadfully jealous if she knew. The greeneyed monster.
<stage><lb n="151996"/>(earnestly)</stage> You know how difficult it is. I needn't tell you.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="151997"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="151998"/>(flattered)</stage> What the eye can't see the heart can't grieve for. <stage>(she pats him)</stage>
<lb n="151999"/>Come.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152000"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152001"/>Laughing witch! The hand that rocks the cradle.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152002"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="152003"/>Babby!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152004"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152005"/>(in babylinen and pelisse, bigheaded, with a caul of dark hair, fixes big eyes
<lb n="152006"/>on her fluid slip and counts its bronze buckles with a chubby finger, his
<lb n="152007"/>moist tongue lolling and lisping)</stage> One two tlee: tlee tlwo tlone.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Buckles"><speaker><lb n="152008"/>The Buckles</speaker>
<p><lb n="152009"/>Love me. Love me not. Love me.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152010"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="152011"/>Silent means consent. <stage>(With little parted talons she captures his hand, her
<lb n="152012"/>forefinger giving to his palm the passtouch of secret monitor, luring him to
<lb n="152013"/>doom.)</stage> Hot hands cold gizzard.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152014"/>(He hesitates amid scents, music, temptations. She leads him
<lb n="152015"/>towards the steps, drawing him by the odour of her armpits, the vice
<lb n="152016"/>of her painted eyes, the rustle of her slip in whose sinuous folds
<lb n="152017"/>lurks the lion reek of all the male brutes that have possessed her.)</stage>
<sp who="The Male Brutes"><speaker><lb n="152018"/>The Male Brutes</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152019"/>(exhaling sulphur of rut and dung and ramping in their loosebox, faintly
<lb n="152020"/>roaring, their drugged heads swaying to and fro)</stage> Good!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152021"/>(Zoe and Bloom reach the doorway where two sister whores are
<lb n="152022"/>seated. They examine him curiously from under their pencilled
<lb n="152023"/>brows and smile to his hasty bow. He trips awkwardly.)</stage>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152024"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152025"/>(her lucky hand instantly saving him)</stage> Hoopsa! Don't fall upstairs.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152026"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152027"/>The just man falls seven times. <stage>(he stands aside at the threshold)</stage> After you
<lb n="152028"/>is good manners.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152029"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="152030"/>Ladies first, gentlemen after.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152031"/>(She crosses the threshold. He hesitates. She turns and, holding out
<lb n="152032"/>her hands, draws him over. He hops. On the antlered rack of the
<lb n="152033"/>hall hang a man's hat and waterproof. Bloom uncovers himself but,
<lb n="152034"/>seeing them, frowns, then smiles, preoccupied. A door on the return
<lb n="152035"/>landing is flung open. A man in purple shirt and grey trousers,
<lb n="152036"/>brownsocked, passes with an ape's gait, his bald head and goatee
<lb n="152037"/>beard upheld, hugging a full waterjugjar, his twotailed black braces
<lb n="152038"/>dangling at heels. Averting his face quickly Bloom bends to examine
<lb n="152039"/>on the halltable the spaniel eyes of a running fox: then, his lifted
<lb n="152040"/>head sniffing, follows Zoe into the musicroom. A shade of mauve
<lb n="152041"/>tissuepaper dims the light of the chandelier. Round and round a
<lb n="152042"/>moth flies, colliding, escaping. The floor is covered with an oilcloth
<lb n="152043"/>mosaic of jade and azure and cinnabar rhomboids. Footmarks are
<lb n="152044"/>stamped over it in all senses, heel to heel, heel to hollow, toe to toe,
<lb n="152045"/>feet locked, a morris of shuffling feet without body phantoms, all in
<lb n="152046"/>a scrimmage higgledypiggledy. The walls are tapestried with a paper
<lb n="152047"/>of yewfronds and clear glades. In the grate is spread a screen of
<lb n="152048"/>peacock feathers. Lynch squats crosslegged on the hearthrug of
<lb n="152049"/>matted hair, his cap back to the front. With a wand he beats time
<lb n="152050"/>slowly. Kitty Ricketts, a bony pallid whore in navy costume,
<lb n="152051"/>doeskin gloves rolled back from a coral wristlet, a chain purse in her
<lb n="152052"/>hand, sits perched on the edge of the table swinging her leg and
<lb n="152053"/>glancing at herself in the gilt mirror over the mantelpiece. A tag of
<lb n="152054"/>her corsetlace hangs slightly below her jacket. Lynch indicates
<lb n="152055"/>mockingly the couple at the piano.)</stage>
<sp who="kr"><speaker><lb n="152056"/>Kitty</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152057"/>(coughs behind her hand)</stage> She's a bit imbecillic. <stage>(she signs with a waggling
<lb n="152058"/>forefinger)</stage> Blemblem. <stage>(Lynch lifts up her skirt and white petticoat with his
<lb n="152059"/>wand. She settles them down quickly.)</stage> Respect yourself. <stage>(she hiccups, then
<lb n="152060"/>bends quickly her sailor hat under which her hair glows, red with henna)</stage>
<lb n="152061"/>O, excuse!</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152062"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="152063"/>More limelight, Charley. <stage>(she goes to the chandelier and turns the gas full
<lb n="152064"/>cock)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="kr"><speaker><lb n="152065"/>Kitty</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152066"/>(peers at the gasjet)</stage> What ails it tonight?</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="152067"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152068"/>(deeply)</stage> Enter a ghost and hobgoblins.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152069"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="152070"/>Clap on the back for Zoe.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152071"/>(The wand in Lynch's hand flashes: a brass poker. Stephen stands
<lb n="152072"/>at the pianola on which sprawl his hat and ashplant. With two
<lb n="152073"/>fingers he repeats once more the series of empty fifths. Florry
<lb n="152074"/>Talbot, a blond feeble goosefat whore in a tatterdemalion gown of
<lb n="152075"/>mildewed strawberry, lolls spreadeagle in the sofacorner, her limp
<lb n="152076"/>forearm pendent over the bolster, listening. A heavy stye droops
<lb n="152077"/>over her sleepy eyelid.)</stage>
<sp who="kr"><speaker><lb n="152078"/>Kitty</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152079"/>(hiccups again with a kick of her horsed foot)</stage> O, excuse!</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152080"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152081"/>(promptly)</stage> Your boy's thinking of you. Tie a knot on your shift.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152082"/>(Kitty Ricketts bends her head. Her boa uncoils, slides, glides over
<lb n="152083"/>her shoulder, back, arm, chair to the ground. Lynch lifts the curled
<lb n="152084"/>catterpillar on his wand. She snakes her neck, nestling. Stephen
<lb n="152085"/>glances behind at the squatted figure with its cap back to the front.)</stage>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="152086"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="152087"/>As a matter of fact it is of no importance whether Benedetto Marcello found
<lb n="152088"/>it or made it. The rite is the poet's rest. It may be an old hymn to Demeter
<lb n="152089"/>or also illustrate <foreign xml:lang="la">Coela enarrant gloriam Domini</foreign>. It is susceptible of nodes
<lb n="152090"/>or modes as far apart as hyperphrygian and mixolydian and of texts so
<lb n="152091"/>divergent as priests haihooping round David's that is Circe's or what am I
<lb n="152092"/>saying Ceres' altar and David's tip from the stable to his chief bassoonist
<lb n="152093"/>about the alrightness of his almightiness. <foreign xml:lang="fr">Mais nom de nom</foreign>, that is another
<lb n="152094"/>pair of trousers. <foreign xml:lang="fr">Jetez la gourme. Faut que jeunesse se passe.</foreign> <stage>(he stops, points
<lb n="152095"/>at Lynch's cap, smiles, laughs)</stage> Which side is your knowledge bump?</p></sp>
<sp who="The Cap"><speaker><lb n="152096"/>The Cap</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152097"/>(with saturnine spleen)</stage> Ba! It is because it is. Woman's reason. Jewgreek is
<lb n="152098"/>greekjew. Extremes meet. Death is the highest form of life. Ba!</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="152099"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="152100"/>You remember fairly accurately all my errors, boasts, mistakes. How long
<lb n="152101"/>shall I continue to close my eyes to disloyalty? Whetstone!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Cap"><speaker><lb n="152102"/>The Cap</speaker>
<p><lb n="152103"/>Ba!</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="152104"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="152105"/>Here's another for you. <stage>(he frowns)</stage> The reason is because the
<lb n="152106"/>fundamental and the dominant are separated by the greatest possible
<lb n="152107"/>interval which ....</p></sp>
<sp who="The Cap"><speaker><lb n="152108"/>The Cap</speaker>
<p><lb n="152109"/>Which? Finish. You can't.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="152110"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152111"/>(with an effort)</stage> Interval which. Is the greatest possible ellipse. Consistent
<lb n="152112"/>with. The ultimate return. The octave. Which.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Cap"><speaker><lb n="152113"/>The Cap</speaker>
<p><lb n="152114"/>Which?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152115"/>(Outside the gramophone begins to blare <title type="song">The Holy City</title>.)</stage>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="152116"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152117"/>(abruptly)</stage> What went forth to the ends of the world to traverse not itself,
<lb n="152118"/>God, the sun, Shakespeare, a commercial traveller, having itself traversed in
<lb n="152119"/>reality itself becomes that self. Wait a moment. Wait a second. Damn that
<lb n="152120"/>fellow's noise in the street. Self which it itself was ineluctably
<lb n="152121"/>preconditioned to become. <foreign xml:lang="la">Ecco!</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="152122"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152123"/>(with a mocking whinny of laughter grins at Bloom and Zoe Higgins)</stage>
<lb n="152124"/>What a learned speech, eh?</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152125"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152126"/>(briskly)</stage> God help your head, he knows more than you have forgotten.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152127"/>(With obese stupidity Florry Talbot regards Stephen.)</stage>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="152128"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><lb n="152129"/>They say the last day is coming this summer.</p></sp>
<sp who="kr"><speaker><lb n="152130"/>Kitty</speaker>
<p><lb n="152131"/>No!</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152132"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152133"/>(explodes in laughter)</stage> Great unjust God!</p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="152134"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152135"/>(offended)</stage> Well, it was in the papers about Antichrist. O, my foot's
<lb n="152136"/>tickling.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152137"/>(Ragged barefoot newsboys, jogging a wagtail kite, patter past,
<lb n="152138"/>yelling.)</stage>
<sp who="un"><speaker><lb n="152139"/>The Newsboys</speaker>
<p><lb n="152140"/>Stop press edition. Result of the rockinghorse races. Sea serpent in the
<lb n="152141"/>royal canal. Safe arrival of Antichrist.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152142"/>(Stephen turns and sees Bloom.)</stage>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="152143"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="152144"/>A time, times and half a time.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152145"/>(Reuben J Antichrist, wandering jew, a clutching hand open on his
<lb n="152146"/>spine, stumps forward. Across his loins is slung a pilgrim's wallet
<lb n="152147"/>from which protrude promissory notes and dishonoured bills. Aloft
<lb n="152148"/>over his shoulder he bears a long boatpole from the hook of which
<lb n="152149"/>the sodden huddled mass of his only son, saved from Liffey waters,
<lb n="152150"/>hangs from the slack of its breeches. A hobgoblin in the image of
<lb n="152151"/>Punch Costello, hipshot, crookbacked, hydrocephalic, prognathic
<lb n="152152"/>with receding forehead and Ally Sloper nose, tumbles in
<lb n="152153"/>somersaults through the gathering darkness.)</stage>
<sp who="All"><speaker><lb n="152154"/>All</speaker>
<p><lb n="152155"/>What?</p></sp>
<sp who="The Hobgoblin"><speaker><lb n="152156"/>The Hobgoblin</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152157"/>(his jaws chattering, capers to and fro, goggling his eyes, squeaking,
<lb n="152158"/>kangaroohopping with outstretched clutching arms, then all at once thrusts
<lb n="152159"/>his lipless face through the fork of his thighs)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="fr">Il vient! C'est moi! L'homme
<lb n="152160"/>qui rit! L'homme primigène!</foreign> <stage>(he whirls round and round with dervish
<lb n="152161"/>howls)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="fr">Sieurs et dames, faites vos jeux!</foreign> <stage>(He crouches juggling. Tiny
<lb n="152162"/>roulette planets fly from his hands.)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="fr">Les jeux sont faits!</foreign> <stage>(the planets rush
<lb n="152163"/>together, uttering crepitant cracks)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="fr">Rien va plus!</foreign> <stage>(The planets, buoyant
<lb n="152164"/>balloons, sail swollen up and away. He springs off into vacuum.)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="152165"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152166"/>(sinking into torpor, crossing herself secretly)</stage> The end of the world!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152167"/>(A female tepid effluvium leaks out from her. Nebulous obscurity
<lb n="152168"/>occupies space. Through the drifting fog without the gramophone
<lb n="152169"/>blares over coughs and feetshuffling.)</stage>
<sp who="igram"><speaker><lb n="152170"/>The Gramophone</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="152171"/><l>Jerusalem!</l>
<lb n="152172"/><l>Open your gates and sing</l>
<lb n="152173"/><l>Hosanna ....</l></lg></quote></sp>
<stage><lb n="152174"/>(A rocket rushes up the sky and bursts. A white star falls from it,
<lb n="152175"/>proclaiming the consummation of all things and second coming of
<lb n="152176"/>Elijah. Along an infinite invisible tightrope taut from zenith to nadir
<lb n="152177"/>the End of the World, a twoheaded octopus in gillie's kilts, busby
<lb n="152178"/>and tartan filibegs, whirls through the murk, head over heels, in the
<lb n="152179"/>form of the Three Legs of Man.)</stage>
<sp who="The End of the World"><speaker><lb n="152180"/>The End of the World</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152181"/>(with a Scotch accent)</stage> Wha'll dance the keel row, the keel row, the keel
<lb n="152182"/>row?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152183"/>(Over the possing drift and choking breathcoughs, Elijah's voice,
<lb n="152184"/>harsh as a corncrake's, jars on high. Perspiring in a loose lawn
<lb n="152185"/>surplice with funnel sleeves he is seen, vergerfaced, above a rostrum
<lb n="152186"/>about which the banner of old glory is draped. He thumps the
<lb n="152187"/>parapet.)</stage>
<sp who="eli"><speaker><lb n="152188"/>Elijah</speaker>
<p><lb n="152189"/>No yapping, if you please, in this booth. Jake Crane, Creole Sue, Dove
<lb n="152190"/>Campbell, Abe Kirschner, do your coughing with your mouths shut. Say, I
<lb n="152191"/>am operating all this trunk line. Boys, do it now. God's time is 12.25. Tell
<lb n="152192"/>mother you'll be there. Rush your order and you play a slick ace. Join on
<lb n="152193"/>right here. Book through to eternity junction, the nonstop run. Just one
<lb n="152194"/>word more. Are you a god or a doggone clod? If the second advent came to
<lb n="152195"/>Coney Island are we ready? Florry Christ, Stephen Christ, Zoe Christ,
<lb n="152196"/>Bloom Christ, Kitty Christ, Lynch Christ, it's up to you to sense that cosmic
<lb n="152197"/>force. Have we cold feet about the cosmos? No. Be on the side of the
<lb n="152198"/>angels. Be a prism. You have that something within, the higher self. You can
<lb n="152199"/>rub shoulders with a Jesus, a Gautama, an Ingersoll. Are you all in this
<lb n="152200"/>vibration? I say you are. You once nobble that, congregation, and a buck
<lb n="152201"/>joyride to heaven becomes a back number. You got me? It's a lifebrightener,
<lb n="152202"/>sure. The hottest stuff ever was. It's the whole pie with jam in. It's just the
<lb n="152203"/>cutest snappiest line out. It is immense, supersumptuous. It restores. It
<lb n="152204"/>vibrates. I know and I am some vibrator. Joking apart and, getting down to
<lb n="152205"/>bedrock, A. J. Christ Dowie and the harmonial philosophy, have you got
<lb n="152206"/>that? O. K. Seventyseven west sixtyninth street. Got me? That's it. You call
<lb n="152207"/>me up by sunphone any old time. Bumboosers, save your stamps. <stage>(he
<lb n="152208"/>shouts)</stage> Now then our glory song. All join heartily in the singing. Encore!
<stage><lb n="152209"/>(he sings)</stage> Jeru ....</p></sp>
<sp who="igram"><speaker><lb n="152210"/>The Gramophone</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152211"/>(drowning his voice)</stage> Whorusalaminyourhighhohhhh ... <stage>(the disc rasps
<lb n="152212"/>gratingly against the needle)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="Zoe Higgins AND Kitty Ricketts AND Florry Talbot"><speaker><lb n="152213"/>The Three Whores</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152214"/>(covering their ears, squawk)</stage> Ahhkkk!</p></sp>
<sp who="eli"><speaker><lb n="152215"/>Elijah</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152216"/>(in rolledup shirtsleeves, black in the face, shouts at the top of his voice, his
<lb n="152217"/>arms uplifted)</stage> Big Brother up there, Mr President, you hear what I done
<lb n="152218"/>just been saying to you. Certainly, I sort of believe strong in you, Mr
<lb n="152219"/>President. I certainly am thinking now Miss Higgins and Miss Ricketts got
<lb n="152220"/>religion way inside them. Certainly seems to me I don't never see no wusser
<lb n="152221"/>scared female than the way you been, Miss Florry, just now as I done seed
<lb n="152222"/>you. Mr President, you come long and help me save our sisters dear. <stage>(he
<lb n="152223"/>winks at his audience)</stage> Our Mr President, he twig the whole lot and he aint
<lb n="152224"/>saying nothing.</p></sp>
<sp who="Kitty Ricketts_2"><speaker><lb n="152225"/>Kitty-Kate</speaker>
<p><lb n="152226"/>I forgot myself. In a weak moment I erred and did what I did on
<lb n="152227"/>Constitution hill. I was confirmed by the bishop and enrolled in the brown
<lb n="152228"/>scapular. My mother's sister married a Montmorency. It was a working
<lb n="152229"/>plumber was my ruination when I was pure.</p></sp>
<sp who="Zoe Higgins_2"><speaker><lb n="152230"/>Zoe-Fanny</speaker>
<p><lb n="152231"/>I let him larrup it into me for the fun of it.</p></sp>
<sp who="Florry Talbot_2"><speaker><lb n="152232"/>Florry-Teresa</speaker>
<p><lb n="152233"/>It was in consequence of a portwine beverage on top of Hennessy's three
<lb n="152234"/>star. I was guilty with Whelan when he slipped into the bed.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="152235"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="152236"/>In the beginning was the word, in the end the world without end. Blessed be
<lb n="152237"/>the eight beatitudes.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152238"/>(The beatitudes, Dixon, Madden, Crotthers, Costello, Lenehan,
<lb n="152239"/>Bannon, Mulligan and Lynch in white surgical students' gowns,
<lb n="152240"/>four abreast, goosestepping, tramp fast past in noisy marching.)</stage>
<sp who="The Beatitudes (connect to named characters)"><speaker><lb n="152241"/>The Beatitudes</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152242"/>(incoherently)</stage> Beer beef battledog buybull businum barnum buggerum
<lb n="152243"/>bishop.</p></sp>
<sp who="tl"><speaker><lb n="152244"/>Lyster</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152245"/>(in quakergrey kneebreeches and broadbrimmed hat, says discreetly)</stage> He is
<lb n="152246"/>our friend. I need not mention names. Seek thou the light.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152247"/>(He corantos by. Best enters in hairdresser's attire, shinily
<lb n="152248"/>laundered, his locks in curlpapers. He leads John Eglinton who
<lb n="152249"/>wears a mandarin's kimono of Nankeen yellow, lizardlettered, and
<lb n="152250"/>a high pagoda hat.)</stage>
<sp who="rib"><speaker><lb n="152251"/>Best</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152252"/>(smiling, lifts the hat and displays a shaven poll from the crown of which
<lb n="152253"/>bristles a pigtail toupee tied with an orange topknot)</stage> I was just beautifying
<lb n="152254"/>him, don't you know. A thing of beauty, don't you know, Yeats says, or I
<lb n="152255"/>mean, Keats says.</p></sp>
<sp who="je"><speaker><lb n="152256"/>John Eglinton</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152257"/>(produces a greencapped dark lantern and flashes it towards a corner: with
<lb n="152258"/>carping accent)</stage> Esthetics and cosmetics are for the boudoir. I am out for
<lb n="152259"/>truth. Plain truth for a plain man. Tanderagee wants the facts and means to
<lb n="152260"/>get them.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152261"/>(In the cone of the searchlight behind the coalscuttle, ollave,
<lb n="152262"/>holyeyed, the bearded figure of Mananaun MacLir broods, chin on
<lb n="152263"/>knees. He rises slowly. A cold seawind blows from his druid mouth.
<lb n="152264"/>About his head writhe eels and elvers. He is encrusted with weeds
<lb n="152265"/>and shells. His right hand holds a bicycle pump. His left hand
<lb n="152266"/>grasps a huge crayfish by its two talons.)</stage>
<sp who="ae2"><speaker><lb n="152267"/>Mananaun MacLir</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152268"/>(with a voice of waves)</stage> Aum! Hek! Wal! Ak! Lub! Mor! Ma! White
<lb n="152269"/>yoghin of the gods. Occult pimander of Hermes Trismegistos. <stage>(with a voice
<lb n="152270"/>of whistling seawind)</stage> Punarjanam patsypunjaub! I won't have my leg
<lb n="152271"/>pulled. It has been said by one: beware the left, the cult of Shakti. <stage>(with a
<lb n="152272"/>cry of stormbirds)</stage> Shakti Shiva, darkhidden Father! <stage>(He smites with his
<lb n="152273"/>bicycle pump the crayfish in his left hand. On its cooperative dial glow the
<lb n="152274"/>twelve signs of the zodiac. He wails with the vehemence of the ocean.)</stage>
<lb n="152275"/>Aum! Baum! Pyjaum! I am the light of the homestead! I am the dreamery
<lb n="152276"/>creamery butter.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152277"/>(A skeleton judashand strangles the light. The green light wanes to
<lb n="152278"/>mauve. The gasjet wails whistling.)</stage>
<sp who="The Gasjet"><speaker><lb n="152279"/>The Gasjet</speaker>
<p><lb n="152280"/>Pooah! Pfuiiiiiii!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152281"/>(Zoe runs to the chandelier and, crooking her leg, adjusts the
<lb n="152282"/>mantle.)</stage>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152283"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="152284"/>Who has a fag as I'm here?</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="152285"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152286"/>(tossing a cigarette on to the table)</stage> Here.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152287"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152288"/>(her head perched aside in mock pride)</stage> Is that the way to hand the <foreign xml:lang="fr">pot</foreign> to
<lb n="152289"/>a lady? <stage>(She stretches up to light the cigarette over the flame, twirling it
<lb n="152290"/>slowly, showing the brown tufts of her armpits. Lynch with his poker lifts
<lb n="152291"/>boldly a side of her slip. Bare from her garters up her flesh appears under
<lb n="152292"/>the sapphire a nixie's green. She puffs calmly at her cigarette.)</stage> Can you see
<lb n="152293"/>the beautyspot of my behind?</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="152294"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><lb n="152295"/>I'm not looking.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152296"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152297"/>(makes sheep's eyes)</stage> No? You wouldn't do a less thing. Would you suck a
<lb n="152298"/>lemon?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152299"/>(Squinting in mock shame she glances with sidelong meaning at
<lb n="152300"/>Bloom, then twists round towards him, pulling her slip free of the
<lb n="152301"/>poker. Blue fluid again flows over her flesh. Bloom stands, smiling
<lb n="152302"/>desirously, twirling his thumbs. Kitty Ricketts licks her middle
<lb n="152303"/>finger with her spittle and, gazing in the mirror, smooths both
<lb n="152304"/>eyebrows. Lipoti Virag, basilicogrammate, chutes rapidly down
<lb n="152305"/>through the chimneyflue and struts two steps to the left on gawky
<lb n="152306"/>pink stilts. He is sausaged into several overcoats and wears a brown
<lb n="152307"/>macintosh under which he holds a roll of parchment. In his left eye
<lb n="152308"/>flashes the monocle of Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall
<lb n="152309"/>Farrell. On his head is perched an Egyptian pshent. Two quills
<lb n="152310"/>project over his ears.)</stage>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152311"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152312"/>(heels together, bows)</stage> My name is Virag Lipoti, of Szombathely. <stage>(he
<lb n="152313"/>coughs thoughtfully, drily)</stage> Promiscuous nakedness is much in evidence
<lb n="152314"/>hereabouts, eh? Inadvertently her backview revealed the fact that she is not
<lb n="152315"/>wearing those rather intimate garments of which you are a particular
<lb n="152316"/>devotee. The injection mark on the thigh I hope you perceived? Good.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152317"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152318"/>Granpapachi. But .....</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152319"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><lb n="152320"/>Number two on the other hand, she of the cherry rouge and coiffeuse white,
<lb n="152321"/>whose hair owes not a little to our tribal elixir of gopherwood, is in walking
<lb n="152322"/>costume and tightly staysed by her sit, I should opine. Backbone in front, so
<lb n="152323"/>to say. Correct me but I always understood that the act so performed by
<lb n="152324"/>skittish humans with glimpses of lingerie appealed to you in virtue of its
<lb n="152325"/>exhibitionististicicity. In a word. Hippogriff. Am I right?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152326"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152327"/>She is rather lean.</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152328"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152329"/>(not unpleasantly)</stage> Absolutely! Well observed and those pannier pockets of
<lb n="152330"/>the skirt and slightly pegtop effect are devised to suggest bunchiness of hip.
<lb n="152331"/>A new purchase at some monster sale for which a gull has been mulcted.
<lb n="152332"/>Meretricious finery to deceive the eye. Observe the attention to details of
<lb n="152333"/>dustspecks. Never put on you tomorrow what you can wear today.
<lb n="152334"/>Parallax! <stage>(with a nervous twitch of his head)</stage> Did you hear my brain go
<lb n="152335"/>snap? Pollysyllabax!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152336"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152337"/>(an elbow resting in a hand, a forefinger against his cheek)</stage> She seems sad.</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152338"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152339"/>(cynically, his weasel teeth bared yellow, draws down his left eye with a
<lb n="152340"/>finger and barks hoarsely)</stage> Hoax! Beware of the flapper and bogus
<lb n="152341"/>mournful. Lily of the alley. All possess bachelor's button discovered by
<lb n="152342"/>Rualdus Columbus. Tumble her. Columble her. Chameleon. <stage>(more
<lb n="152343"/>genially)</stage> Well then, permit me to draw your attention to item number three.
<lb n="152344"/>There is plenty of her visible to the naked eye. Observe the mass of
<lb n="152345"/>oxygenated vegetable matter on her skull. What ho, she bumps! The ugly
<lb n="152346"/>duckling of the party, longcasted and deep in keel.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152347"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152348"/>(regretfully)</stage> When you come out without your gun.</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152349"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><lb n="152350"/>We can do you all brands, mild, medium and strong. Pay your money, take
<lb n="152351"/>your choice. How happy could you be with either ...</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152352"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152353"/>With ...?</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152354"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152355"/>(his tongue upcurling)</stage> Lyum! Look. Her beam is broad. She is coated with
<lb n="152356"/>quite a considerable layer of fat. Obviously mammal in weight of bosom
<lb n="152357"/>you remark that she has in front well to the fore two protuberances of very
<lb n="152358"/>respectable dimensions, inclined to fall in the noonday soupplate, while on
<lb n="152359"/>her rere lower down are two additional protuberances, suggestive of potent
<lb n="152360"/>rectum and tumescent for palpation, which leave nothing to be desired save
<lb n="152361"/>compactness. Such fleshy parts are the product of careful nurture. When
<lb n="152362"/>coopfattened their livers reach an elephantine size. Pellets of new bread
<lb n="152363"/>with fennygreek and gumbenjamin swamped down by potions of green tea
<lb n="152364"/>endow them during their brief existence with natural pincushions of quite
<lb n="152365"/>colossal blubber. That suits your book, eh? Fleshhotpots of Egypt to
<lb n="152366"/>hanker after. Wallow in it. Lycopodium. <stage>(his throat twitches)</stage> Slapbang!
<lb n="152367"/>There he goes again.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152368"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152369"/>The stye I dislike.</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152370"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152371"/>(arches his eyebrows)</stage> Contact with a goldring, they say. <foreign xml:lang="la">Argumentum ad
<lb n="152372"/>feminam</foreign>, as we said in old Rome and ancient Greece in the consulship of
<lb n="152373"/>Diplodocus and Ichthyosauros. For the rest Eve's sovereign remedy. Not
<lb n="152374"/>for sale. Hire only. Huguenot. <stage>(he twitches)</stage> It is a funny sound. <stage>(he
<lb n="152375"/>coughs encouragingly)</stage> But possibly it is only a wart. I presume you shall
<lb n="152376"/>have remembered what I will have taught you on that head? Wheatenmeal
<lb n="152377"/>with honey and nutmeg.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152378"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152379"/>(reflecting)</stage> Wheatenmeal with lycopodium and syllabax. This searching
<lb n="152380"/>ordeal. It has been an unusually fatiguing day, a chapter of accidents. Wait.
<lb n="152381"/>I mean, wartsblood spreads warts, you said ...</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152382"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152383"/>(severely, his nose hardhumped, his side eye winking)</stage> Stop twirling your
<lb n="152384"/>thumbs and have a good old thunk. See, you have forgotten. Exercise your
<lb n="152385"/>mnemotechnic. <foreign xml:lang="fr">La causa è santa.</foreign> Tara. Tara. <stage>(aside)</stage> He will surely
<lb n="152386"/>remember.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152387"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152388"/>Rosemary also did I understand you to say or willpower over parasitic
<lb n="152389"/>tissues. Then nay no I have an inkling. The touch of a deadhand cures.
<lb n="152390"/>Mnemo?</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152391"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152392"/>(excitedly)</stage> I say so. I say so. E'en so. Technic. <stage>(he taps his parchmentroll
<lb n="152393"/>energetically)</stage> This book tells you how to act with all descriptive
<lb n="152394"/>particulars. Consult index for agitated fear of aconite, melancholy of
<lb n="152395"/>muriatic, priapic pulsatilla. Virag is going to talk about amputation. Our
<lb n="152396"/>old friend caustic. They must be starved. Snip off with horsehair under the
<lb n="152397"/>denned neck. But, to change the venue to the Bulgar and the Basque, have
<lb n="152398"/>you made up your mind whether you like or dislike women in male
<lb n="152399"/>habiliments? <stage>(with a dry snigger)</stage> You intended to devote an entire year to
<lb n="152400"/>the study of the religious problem and the summer months of 1886 to
<lb n="152401"/>square the circle and win that million. Pomegranate! From the sublime to
<lb n="152402"/>the ridiculous is but a step. Pyjamas, let us say? Or stockingette gussetted
<lb n="152403"/>knickers, closed? Or, put we the case, those complicated combinations,
<lb n="152404"/>camiknickers? <stage>(he crows derisively)</stage> Keekeereekee!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152405"/>(Bloom surveys uncertainly the three whores then gazes at the
<lb n="152406"/>veiled mauve light, hearing the everflying moth.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152407"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152408"/>I wanted then to have now concluded. Nightdress was never. Hence this.
<lb n="152409"/>But tomorrow is a new day will be. Past was is today. What now is will then
<lb n="152410"/>morrow as now was be past yester.</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152411"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152412"/>(prompts in a pig's whisper)</stage> Insects of the day spend their brief existence
<lb n="152413"/>in reiterated coition, lured by the smell of the inferiorly pulchritudinous
<lb n="152414"/>fumale possessing extendified pudendal nerve in dorsal region. Pretty Poll!
<stage><lb n="152415"/>(his yellow parrotbeak gabbles nasally)</stage> They had a proverb in the
<lb n="152416"/>Carpathians in or about the year five thousand five hundred and fifty of our
<lb n="152417"/>era. One tablespoonful of honey will attract friend Bruin more than half a
<lb n="152418"/>dozen barrels of first choice malt vinegar. Bear's buzz bothers bees. But of
<lb n="152419"/>this apart. At another time we may resume. We were very pleased, we
<lb n="152420"/>others. <stage>(he coughs and, bending his brow, rubs his nose thoughtfully with a
<lb n="152421"/>scooping hand)</stage> You shall find that these night insects follow the light. An
<lb n="152422"/>illusion for remember their complex unadjustable eye. For all these knotty
<lb n="152423"/>points see the seventeenth book of my Fundamentals of Sexology or the
<lb n="152424"/>Love Passion which Doctor L. B. says is the book sensation of the year.
<lb n="152425"/>Some, to example, there are again whose movements are automatic.
<lb n="152426"/>Perceive. That is his appropriate sun. Nightbird nightsun nighttown. Chase
<lb n="152427"/>me, Charley! <stage>(he blows into Bloom's ear)</stage> Buzz!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152428"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152429"/>Bee or bluebottle too other day butting shadow on wall dazed self then me
<lb n="152430"/>wandered dazed down shirt good job I ....</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152431"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152432"/>(his face impassive, laughs in a rich feminine key)</stage> Splendid! Spanish fly in
<lb n="152433"/>his fly or mustard plaster on his dibble. <stage>(he gobbles gluttonously with
<lb n="152434"/>turkey wattles)</stage> Bubbly jock! Bubbly jock! Where are we? Open Sesame!
<lb n="152435"/>Cometh forth! <stage>(he unrolls his parchment rapidly and reads, his
<lb n="152436"/>glowworm's nose running backwards over the letters which he claws)</stage> Stay,
<lb n="152437"/>good friend. I bring thee thy answer. Redbank oysters will shortly be upon
<lb n="152438"/>us. I'm the best o'cook. Those succulent bivalves may help us and the
<lb n="152439"/>truffles of Perigord, tubers dislodged through mister omnivorous porker,
<lb n="152440"/>were unsurpassed in cases of nervous debility or viragitis. Though they
<lb n="152441"/>stink yet they sting. <stage>(he wags his head with cackling raillery)</stage> Jocular. With
<lb n="152442"/>my eyeglass in my ocular. <stage>(he sneezes)</stage> Amen!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152443"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152444"/>(absently)</stage> Ocularly woman's bivalve case is worse. Always open sesame.
<lb n="152445"/>The cloven sex. Why they fear vermin, creeping things. Yet Eve and the
<lb n="152446"/>serpent contradicts. Not a historical fact. Obvious analogy to my idea.
<lb n="152447"/>Serpents too are gluttons for woman's milk. Wind their way through miles
<lb n="152448"/>of omnivorous forest to sucksucculent her breast dry. Like those
<lb n="152449"/>bubblyjocular Roman matrons one reads of in Elephantuliasis.</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152450"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152451"/>(his mouth projected in hard wrinkles, eyes stonily forlornly closed, psalms
<lb n="152452"/>in outlandish monotone)</stage> That the cows with their those distended udders
<lb n="152453"/>that they have been the the known ....</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152454"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152455"/>I am going to scream. I beg your pardon. Ah? So. <stage>(he repeats)</stage>
<lb n="152456"/>Spontaneously to seek out the saurian's lair in order to entrust their teats to
<lb n="152457"/>his avid suction. Ant milks aphis. <stage>(profoundly)</stage> Instinct rules the world. In
<lb n="152458"/>life. In death.</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152459"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152460"/>(head askew, arches his back and hunched wingshoulders, peers at the
<lb n="152461"/>moth out of blear bulged eyes, points a horning claw and cries)</stage> Who's
<lb n="152462"/>moth moth? Who's dear Gerald? Dear Ger, that you? O dear, he is Gerald.
<lb n="152463"/>O, I much fear he shall be most badly burned. Will some pleashe pershon
<lb n="152464"/>not now impediment so catastrophics mit agitation of firstclass
<lb n="152465"/>tablenumpkin? <stage>(he mews)</stage> Puss puss puss puss! <stage>(he sighs, draws back and
<lb n="152466"/>stares sideways down with dropping underjaw)</stage> Well, well. He doth rest
<lb n="152467"/>anon. <stage>(he snaps his jaws suddenly on the air)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="The Moth"><speaker><lb n="152468"/>The Moth</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="152469"/><l>I'm a tiny tiny thing</l>
<lb n="152470"/><l>Ever flying in the spring</l>
<lb n="152471"/><l>Round and round a ringaring.</l>
<lb n="152472"/><l>Long ago I was a king</l>
<lb n="152473"/><l>Now I do this kind of thing</l>
<lb n="152474"/><l>On the wing, on the wing!</l>
<lb n="152475"/><l>Bing!</l></lg></quote>
<stage><lb n="152476"/>(he rushes against the mauve shade, flapping noisily)</stage>
<quote><lg><lb n="152477"/><l>Pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty petticoats.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<stage><lb n="152478"/>(From left upper entrance with two gliding steps Henry Flower
<lb n="152479"/>comes forward to left front centre. He wears a dark mantle and
<lb n="152480"/>drooping plumed sombrero. He carries a silverstringed inlaid
<lb n="152481"/>dulcimer and a longstemmed bamboo Jacob's pipe, its clay bowl
<lb n="152482"/>fashioned as a female head. He wears dark velvet hose and
<lb n="152483"/>silverbuckled pumps. He has the romantic Saviour's face with
<lb n="152484"/>flowing locks, thin beard and moustache. His spindlelegs and
<lb n="152485"/>sparrow feet are those of the tenor Mario, prince of Candia. He
<lb n="152486"/>settles down his goffered ruffs and moistens his lips with a passage
<lb n="152487"/>of his amorous tongue.)</stage>
<sp who="lb2"><speaker><lb n="152488"/>Henry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152489"/>(in a low dulcet voice, touching the strings of his guitar)</stage> There is a flower
<lb n="152490"/>that bloometh.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152491"/>(Virag truculent, his jowl set, stares at the lamp. Grave Bloom
<lb n="152492"/>regards Zoe's neck. Henry gallant turns with pendant dewlap to the
<lb n="152493"/>piano.)</stage>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="152494"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152495"/>(to himself)</stage> Play with your eyes shut. Imitate pa. Filling my belly with
<lb n="152496"/>husks of swine. Too much of this. I will arise and go to my. Expect this is
<lb n="152497"/>the. Steve, thou art in a parlous way. Must visit old Deasy or telegraph. Our
<lb n="152498"/>interview of this morning has left on me a deep impression. Though our
<lb n="152499"/>ages. Will write fully tomorrow. I'm partially drunk, by the way. <stage>(he
<lb n="152500"/>touches the keys again)</stage> Minor chord comes now. Yes. Not much however.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152501"/>(Almidano Artifoni holds out a batonroll of music with vigorous
<lb n="152502"/>moustachework.)</stage>
<sp who="aa"><speaker><lb n="152503"/>Artifoni</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="it"><lb n="152504"/>Ci rifletta. Lei rovina tutto.</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="152505"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><lb n="152506"/>Sing us something. Love's old sweet song.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="152507"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="152508"/>No voice. I am a most finished artist. Lynch, did I show you the letter about
<lb n="152509"/>the lute?</p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="152510"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152511"/>(smirking)</stage> The bird that can sing and won't sing.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152512"/>(The Siamese twins, Philip Drunk and Philip Sober, two Oxford
<lb n="152513"/>dons with lawnmowers, appear in the window embrasure. Both are
<lb n="152514"/>masked with Matthew Arnold's face.)</stage>
<sp who="philsob"><speaker><lb n="152515"/>Philip Sober</speaker>
<p><lb n="152516"/>Take a fool's advice. All is not well. Work it out with the buttend of a pencil,
<lb n="152517"/>like a good young idiot. Three pounds twelve you got, two notes, one
<lb n="152518"/>sovereign, two crowns, if youth but knew. Mooney's en ville, Mooney's sur
<lb n="152519"/>mer, the Moira, Larchet's, Holles street hospital, Burke's. Eh? I am
<lb n="152520"/>watching you.</p></sp>
<sp who="phild"><speaker><lb n="152521"/>Philip Drunk</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152522"/>(impatiently)</stage> Ah, bosh, man. Go to hell! I paid my way. If I could only
<lb n="152523"/>find out about octaves. Reduplication of personality. Who was it told me his
<lb n="152524"/>name? <stage>(his lawnmower begins to purr)</stage> Aha, yes. <foreign xml:lang="grc-Latn">Zoe mou sas agapo.</foreign> Have
<lb n="152525"/>a notion I was here before. When was it not Atkinson his card I have
<lb n="152526"/>somewhere. Mac Somebody. Unmack I have it. He told me about, hold on,
<lb n="152527"/>Swinburne, was it, no?</p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="152528"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><lb n="152529"/>And the song?</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="152530"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="152531"/>Spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.</p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="152532"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><lb n="152533"/>Are you out of Maynooth? You're like someone I knew once.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="152534"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="152535"/>Out of it now. <stage>(to himself)</stage> Clever.</p></sp>
<sp who="Philip Drunk AND Philip Sober"><speaker><lb n="152536"/>Philip Drunk and Philip Sober</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152537"/>(their lawnmowers purring with a rigadoon of grasshalms)</stage> Clever ever.
<lb n="152538"/>Out of it out of it. By the bye have you the book, the thing, the ashplant?
<lb n="152539"/>Yes, there it, yes. Cleverever outofitnow. Keep in condition. Do like us.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152540"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="152541"/>There was a priest down here two nights ago to do his bit of business with
<lb n="152542"/>his coat buttoned up. You needn't try to hide, I says to him. I know you've a
<lb n="152543"/>Roman collar.</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152544"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><lb n="152545"/>Perfectly logical from his standpoint. Fall of man. <stage>(harshly, his pupils
<lb n="152546"/>waxing)</stage> To hell with the pope! Nothing new under the sun. I am the Virag
<lb n="152547"/>who disclosed the Sex Secrets of Monks and Maidens. Why I left the church
<lb n="152548"/>of Rome. Read the Priest, the Woman and the Confessional. Penrose.
<lb n="152549"/>Flipperty Jippert. <stage>(he wriggles)</stage> Woman, undoing with sweet pudor her belt
<lb n="152550"/>of rushrope, offers her allmoist yoni to man's lingam. Short time after man
<lb n="152551"/>presents woman with pieces of jungle meat. Woman shows joy and covers
<lb n="152552"/>herself with featherskins. Man loves her yoni fiercely with big lingam, the
<lb n="152553"/>stiff one. <stage>(he cries)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="la">Coactus volui.</foreign> Then giddy woman will run about.
<lb n="152554"/>Strong man grapses woman's wrist. Woman squeals, bites, spucks. Man,
<lb n="152555"/>now fierce angry, strikes woman's fat yadgana. <stage>(he chases his tail)</stage>
<lb n="152556"/>Piffpaff! Popo! <stage>(he stops, sneezes)</stage> Pchp! <stage>(he worries his butt)</stage> Prrrrrht!</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="152557"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><lb n="152558"/>I hope you gave the good father a penance. Nine glorias for shooting a
<lb n="152559"/>bishop.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152560"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152561"/>(spouts walrus smoke through her nostrils)</stage> He couldn't get a connection.
<lb n="152562"/>Only, you know, sensation. A dry rush.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152563"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152564"/>Poor man!</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152565"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152566"/>(lightly)</stage> Only for what happened him.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152567"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152568"/>How?</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152569"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152570"/>(A diabolic rictus of black luminosity contracting his visage, cranes his
<lb n="152571"/>scraggy neck forward. He lifts a mooncalf nozzle and howls.)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="ji">Verfluchte
<lb n="152572"/>Goim!</foreign> He had a father, forty fathers. He never existed. Pig God! He had
<lb n="152573"/>two left feet. He was Judas Iacchia, a Libyan eunuch, the pope's bastard.
<stage><lb n="152574"/>(he leans out on tortured forepaws, elbows bent rigid, his eye agonising in
<lb n="152575"/>his flat skullneck and yelps over the mute world)</stage> A son of a whore.
<lb n="152576"/>Apocalypse.</p></sp>
<sp who="kr"><speaker><lb n="152577"/>Kitty</speaker>
<p><lb n="152578"/>And Mary Shortall that was in the lock with the pox she got from Jimmy
<lb n="152579"/>Pidgeon in the blue caps had a child off him that couldn't swallow and was
<lb n="152580"/>smothered with the convulsions in the mattress and we all subscribed for
<lb n="152581"/>the funeral.</p></sp>
<sp who="phild"><speaker><lb n="152582"/>Philip Drunk</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152583"/>(gravely)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="fr">Qui vous a mis dans cette fichue position, Philippe?</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="philsob"><speaker><lb n="152584"/>Philip Sober</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152585"/>(gaily)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="fr">C'était le sacré pigeon, Philippe.</foreign></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152586"/>(Kitty unpins her hat and sets it down calmly, patting her henna
<lb n="152587"/>hair. And a prettier, a daintier head of winsome curls was never seen
<lb n="152588"/>on a whore's shoulders. Lynch puts on her hat. She whips it off.)</stage>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="152589"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152590"/>(laughs)</stage> And to such delights has Metchnikoff inoculated anthropoid apes.</p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="152591"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152592"/>(nods)</stage> Locomotor ataxy.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152593"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152594"/>(gaily)</stage> O, my dictionary.</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="152595"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><lb n="152596"/>Three wise virgins.</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152597"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152598"/>(agueshaken, profuse yellow spawn foaming over his bony epileptic lips)</stage>
<lb n="152599"/>She sold lovephiltres, whitewax, orangeflower. Panther, the Roman
<lb n="152600"/>centurion, polluted her with his genitories. <stage>(he sticks out a flickering
<lb n="152601"/>phosphorescent scorpion tongue, his hand on his fork)</stage> Messiah! He burst
<lb n="152602"/>her tympanum. <stage>(with gibbering baboon's cries he jerks his hips in the
<lb n="152603"/>cynical spasm)</stage> Hik! Hek! Hak! Hok! Huk! Kok! Kuk!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152604"/>(Ben Jumbo Dollard, rubicund, musclebound, hairynostrilled,
<lb n="152605"/>hugebearded, cabbageeared, shaggychested, shockmaned,
<lb n="152606"/>fatpapped, stands forth, his loins and genitals tightened into a pair
<lb n="152607"/>of black bathing bagslops.)</stage>
<sp who="bed"><speaker><lb n="152608"/>Ben Dollard</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152609"/>(nakkering castanet bones in his huge padded paws, yodels jovially in base
<lb n="152610"/>barreltone)</stage> When love absorbs my ardent soul.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152611"/>(The virgins Nurse Callan and Nurse Quigley burst through the
<lb n="152612"/>ringkeepers and the ropes and mob him with open arms.)</stage>
<sp who="Nurse Callan AND Nurse Quigley"><speaker><lb n="152613"/>The Virgins</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152614"/>(gushingly)</stage> Big Ben! Ben my Chree!</p></sp>
<sp who="A Voice ALSO Simon Dedalus"><speaker><lb n="152615"/>A Voice</speaker>
<p><lb n="152616"/>Hold that fellow with the bad breeches.</p></sp>
<sp who="bed"><speaker><lb n="152617"/>Ben Dollard</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152618"/>(smites his thigh in abundant laughter)</stage> Hold him now.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb2"><speaker><lb n="152619"/>Henry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152620"/>(caressing on his breast a severed female head, murmurs)</stage> Thine heart,
<lb n="152621"/>mine love. <stage>(he plucks his lutestrings)</stage> When first I saw ...</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag"><speaker><lb n="152622"/>Virag</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152623"/>(sloughing his skins, his multitudinous plumage moulting)</stage> Rats! <stage>(he
<lb n="152624"/>yawns, showing a coalblack throat, and closes his jaws by an upward push
<lb n="152625"/>of his parchmentroll)</stage> After having said which I took my departure.
<lb n="152626"/>Farewell. Fare thee well. <foreign xml:lang="ji">Dreck!</foreign></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152627"/>(Henry Flower combs his moustache and beard rapidly with a
<lb n="152628"/>pocketcomb and gives a cow's lick to his hair. Steered by his rapier,
<lb n="152629"/>he glides to the door, his wild harp slung behind him. Virag reaches
<lb n="152630"/>the door in two ungainly stilthops, his tail cocked, and deftly claps
<lb n="152631"/>sideways on the wall a pusyellow flybill, butting it with his head.)</stage>
<sp who="The Flybill"><speaker><lb n="152632"/>The Flybill</speaker>
<p><lb n="152633"/>K. 11. Post No Bills. Strictly confidential. Dr Hy Franks.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb2"><speaker><lb n="152634"/>Henry</speaker>
<p><lb n="152635"/>All is lost now.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152636"/>(Virag unscrews his head in a trice and holds it under his arm.)</stage>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag AS Head"><speaker><lb n="152637"/>Virag's Head</speaker>
<p><lb n="152638"/>Quack!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152639"/>(Exeunt severally.)</stage>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="152640"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152641"/>(over his shoulder to Zoe)</stage> You would have preferred the fighting parson
<lb n="152642"/>who founded the protestant error. But beware Antisthenes, the dog sage,
<lb n="152643"/>and the last end of Arius Heresiarchus. The agony in the closet.</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="152644"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><lb n="152645"/>All one and the same God to her.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="152646"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152647"/>(devoutly)</stage> And sovereign Lord of all things.</p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="152648"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152649"/>(to Stephen)</stage> I'm sure you're a spoiled priest. Or a monk.</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="152650"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><lb n="152651"/>He is. A cardinal's son.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="152652"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="152653"/>Cardinal sin. Monks of the screw.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152654"/>(His Eminence Simon Stephen cardinal Dedalus, primate of all
<lb n="152655"/>Ireland, appears in the doorway, dressed in red soutane, sandals
<lb n="152656"/>and socks. Seven dwarf simian acolytes, also in red, cardinal sins,
<lb n="152657"/>uphold his train, peeping under it. He wears a battered silk hat
<lb n="152658"/>sideways on his head. His thumbs are stuck in his armpits and his
<lb n="152659"/>palms outspread. Round his neck hangs a rosary of corks ending on
<lb n="152660"/>his breast in a corkscrew cross. Releasing his thumbs, he invokes
<lb n="152661"/>grace from on high with large wave gestures and proclaims with
<lb n="152662"/>bloated pomp:)</stage>
<sp who="Simon Dedalus AS The Cardinal"><speaker><lb n="152663"/>The Cardinal</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="152664"/><l>Conservio lies captured</l>
<lb n="152665"/><l>He lies in the lowest dungeon</l>
<lb n="152666"/><l>With manacles and chains around his limbs</l>
<lb n="152667"/><l>Weighing upwards of three tons.</l></lg></quote>
<stage><lb n="152668"/>(He looks at all for a moment, his right eye closed tight, his left
<lb n="152669"/>cheek puffed out. Then, unable to repress his merriment, he rocks to
<lb n="152670"/>and fro, arms akimbo, and sings with broad rollicking humour:)</stage>
<quote><lg><lb n="152671"/><l>O, the poor little fellow</l>
<lb n="152672"/><l>Hihihihihis legs they were yellow</l>
<lb n="152673"/><l>He was plump, fat and heavy and brisk as a snake</l>
<lb n="152674"/><l>But some bloody savage</l>
<lb n="152675"/><l>To graize his white cabbage</l>
<lb n="152676"/><l>He murdered Nell Flaherty's duckloving drake.</l></lg></quote>
<p><stage><lb n="152677"/>(A multitude of midges swarms white over his robe. He scratches
<lb n="152678"/>himself with crossed arms at his ribs, grimacing, and exclaims:)</stage>
<lb n="152679"/>I'm suffering the agony of the damned. By the hoky fiddle, thanks be to
<lb n="152680"/>Jesus those funny little chaps are not unanimous. If they were they'd walk
<lb n="152681"/>me off the face of the bloody globe.</p>
<stage><lb n="152682"/>(His head aslant he blesses curtly with fore and middle fingers,
<lb n="152683"/>imparts the Easter kiss and doubleshuffles off comically, swaying his
<lb n="152684"/>hat from side to side, shrinking quickly to the size of his
<lb n="152685"/>trainbearers. The dwarf acolytes, giggling, peeping, nudging, ogling,
<lb n="152686"/>easterkissing, zigzag behind him. His voice is heard mellow from
<lb n="152687"/>afar, merciful male, melodious:)</stage>
<quote><lg><lb n="152688"/><l>Shall carry my heart to thee,</l>
<lb n="152689"/><l>Shall carry my heart to thee,</l>
<lb n="152690"/><l>And the breath of the balmy night</l>
<lb n="152691"/><l>Shall carry my heart to thee!</l></lg></quote></sp>
<stage><lb n="152692"/>(The trick doorhandle turns.)</stage>
<sp who="The Doorhandle"><speaker><lb n="152693"/>The Doorhandle</speaker>
<p><lb n="152694"/>Theeee!</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152695"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="152696"/>The devil is in that door.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152697"/>(A male form passes down the creaking staircase and is heard
<lb n="152698"/>taking the waterproof and hat from the rack. Bloom starts forward
<lb n="152699"/>involuntarily and, half closing the door as he passes, takes the
<lb n="152700"/>chocolate from his pocket and offers it nervously to Zoe.)</stage>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152701"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152702"/>(sniffs his hair briskly)</stage> Hmmm! Thank your mother for the rabbits. I'm
<lb n="152703"/>very fond of what I like.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152704"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152705"/>(hearing a male voice in talk with the whores on the doorstep, pricks his
<lb n="152706"/>ears)</stage> If it were he? After? Or because not? Or the double event?</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152707"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152708"/>(tears open the silverfoil)</stage> Fingers was made before forks. <stage>(she breaks off
<lb n="152709"/>and nibbles a piece, gives a piece to Kitty Ricketts and then turns kittenishly
<lb n="152710"/>to Lynch)</stage> No objection to French lozenges? <stage>(He nods. She taunts him.)</stage>
<lb n="152711"/>Have it now or wait till you get it? <stage>(He opens his mouth, his head cocked.
<lb n="152712"/>She whirls the prize in left circle. His head follows. She whirls it back in
<lb n="152713"/>right circle. He eyes her.)</stage> Catch!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152714"/>(She tosses a piece. With an adroit snap he catches it and bites it
<lb n="152715"/>through with a crack.)</stage>
<sp who="kr"><speaker><lb n="152716"/>Kitty</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152717"/>(chewing)</stage> The engineer I was with at the bazaar does have lovely ones.
<lb n="152718"/>Full of the best liqueurs. And the viceroy was there with his lady. The gas
<lb n="152719"/>we had on the Toft's hobbyhorses. I'm giddy still.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152720"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152721"/>(In Svengali's fur overcoat, with folded arms and Napoleonic forelock,
<lb n="152722"/>frowns in ventriloquial exorcism with piercing eagle glance towards the
<lb n="152723"/>door. Then rigid with left foot advanced he makes a swift pass with
<lb n="152724"/>impelling fingers and gives the sign of past master, drawing his right arm
<lb n="152725"/>downwards from his left shoulder.)</stage> Go, go, go, I conjure you, whoever you
<lb n="152726"/>are!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152727"/>(A male cough and tread are heard passing through the mist
<lb n="152728"/>outside. Bloom's features relax. He places a hand in his waistcoat,
<lb n="152729"/>posing calmly. Zoe offers him chocolate.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152730"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152731"/>(solemnly)</stage> Thanks.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152732"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="152733"/>Do as you're bid. Here!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152734"/>(A firm heelclacking tread is heard on the stairs.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152735"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152736"/>(takes the chocolate)</stage> Aphrodisiac? Tansy and pennyroyal. But I bought it.
<lb n="152737"/>Vanilla calms or? Mnemo. Confused light confuses memory. Red influences
<lb n="152738"/>lupus. Colours affect women's characters, any they have. This black makes
<lb n="152739"/>me sad. Eat and be merry for tomorrow. <stage>(he eats)</stage> Influence taste too,
<lb n="152740"/>mauve. But it is so long since I. Seems new. Aphro. That priest. Must come.
<lb n="152741"/>Better late than never. Try truffles at Andrews.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152742"/>(The door opens. Bella Cohen, a massive whoremistress, enters. She
<lb n="152743"/>is dressed in a threequarter ivory gown, fringed round the hem with
<lb n="152744"/>tasselled selvedge, and cools herself flirting a black horn fan like
<lb n="152745"/>Minnie Hauck in <title type="opera">Carmen</title>. On her left hand are wedding and
<lb n="152746"/>keeper rings. Her eyes are deeply carboned. She has a sprouting
<lb n="152747"/>moustache. Her olive face is heavy, slightly sweated and fullnosed
<lb n="152748"/>with orangetainted nostrils. She has large pendant beryl eardrops.)</stage>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="152749"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><lb n="152750"/>My word! I'm all of a mucksweat.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152751"/>(She glances round her at the couples. Then her eyes rest on Bloom
<lb n="152752"/>with hard insistence. Her large fan winnows wind towards her
<lb n="152753"/>heated faceneck and embonpoint. Her falcon eyes glitter.)</stage>
<sp who="The Fan"><speaker><lb n="152754"/>The Fan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152755"/>(flirting quickly, then slowly)</stage> Married, I see.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152756"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152757"/>Yes. Partly, I have mislaid .....</p></sp>
<sp who="The Fan"><speaker><lb n="152758"/>The Fan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152759"/>(half opening, then closing)</stage> And the missus is master. Petticoat
<lb n="152760"/>government.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152761"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152762"/>(looks down with a sheepish grin)</stage> That is so.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Fan"><speaker><lb n="152763"/>The Fan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152764"/>(folding together, rests against her left eardrop)</stage> Have you forgotten me?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152765"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152766"/>Nes. Yo.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Fan"><speaker><lb n="152767"/>The Fan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152768"/>(folded akimbo against her waist)</stage> Is me her was you dreamed before? Was
<lb n="152769"/>then she him you us since knew? Am all them and the same now me?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152770"/>(Bella approaches, gently tapping with the fan.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152771"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152772"/>(wincing)</stage> Powerful being. In my eyes read that slumber which women
<lb n="152773"/>love.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Fan"><speaker><lb n="152774"/>The Fan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152775"/>(tapping)</stage> We have met. You are mine. It is fate.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152776"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152777"/>(cowed)</stage> Exuberant female. Enormously I desiderate your domination. I
<lb n="152778"/>am exhausted, abandoned, no more young. I stand, so to speak, with an
<lb n="152779"/>unposted letter bearing the extra regulation fee before the too late box of the
<lb n="152780"/>general postoffice of human life. The door and window open at a right
<lb n="152781"/>angle cause a draught of thirtytwo feet per second according to the law of
<lb n="152782"/>falling bodies. I have felt this instant a twinge of sciatica in my left glutear
<lb n="152783"/>muscle. It runs in our family. Poor dear papa, a widower, was a regular
<lb n="152784"/>barometer from it. He believed in animal heat. A skin of tabby lined his
<lb n="152785"/>winter waistcoat. Near the end, remembering king David and the Sunamite,
<lb n="152786"/>he shared his bed with Athos, faithful after death. A dog's spittle as you
<lb n="152787"/>probably .... <stage>(he winces)</stage> Ah!</p></sp>
<sp who="rg"><speaker><lb n="152788"/>Richie Goulding</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152789"/>(bagweighted, passes the door)</stage> Mocking is catch. Best value in Dub. Fit for
<lb n="152790"/>a prince's. Liver and kidney.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Fan"><speaker><lb n="152791"/>The Fan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152792"/>(tapping)</stage> All things end. Be mine. Now.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152793"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152794"/>(undecided)</stage> All now? I should not have parted with my talisman. Rain,
<lb n="152795"/>exposure at dewfall on the searocks, a peccadillo at my time of life. Every
<lb n="152796"/>phenomenon has a natural cause.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Fan"><speaker><lb n="152797"/>The Fan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152798"/>(points downwards slowly)</stage> You may.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152799"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152800"/>(looks downwards and perceives her unfastened bootlace)</stage> We are
<lb n="152801"/>observed.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Fan"><speaker><lb n="152802"/>The Fan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152803"/>(points downwards quickly)</stage> You must.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152804"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152805"/>(with desire, with reluctance)</stage> I can make a true black knot. Learned when
<lb n="152806"/>I served my time and worked the mail order line for Kellett's. Experienced
<lb n="152807"/>hand. Every knot says a lot. Let me. In courtesy. I knelt once before today.
<lb n="152808"/>Ah!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152809"/>(Bella raises her gown slightly and, steadying her pose, lifts to the
<lb n="152810"/>edge of a chair a plump buskined hoof and a full pastern,
<lb n="152811"/>silksocked. Bloom, stifflegged, aging, bends over her hoof and with
<lb n="152812"/>gentle fingers draws out and in her laces.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152813"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152814"/>(murmurs lovingly)</stage> To be a shoefitter in Manfield's was my love's young
<lb n="152815"/>dream, the darling joys of sweet buttonhooking, to lace up crisscrossed to
<lb n="152816"/>kneelength the dressy kid footwear satinlined, so incredibly impossibly
<lb n="152817"/>small, of Clyde Road ladies. Even their wax model Raymonde I visited daily
<lb n="152818"/>to admire her cobweb hose and stick of rhubarb toe, as worn in Paris.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Hoof"><speaker><lb n="152819"/>The Hoof</speaker>
<p><lb n="152820"/>Smell my hot goathide. Feel my royal weight.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152821"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152822"/>(crosslacing)</stage> Too tight?</p></sp>
<sp who="The Hoof"><speaker><lb n="152823"/>The Hoof</speaker>
<p><lb n="152824"/>If you bungle, Handy Andy, I'll kick your football for you.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="152825"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152826"/>Not to lace the wrong eyelet as I did the night of the bazaar dance. Bad
<lb n="152827"/>luck. Hook in wrong tache of her .... person you mentioned. That night she
<lb n="152828"/>met .... Now!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152829"/>(He knots the lace. Bella places her foot on the floor. Bloom raises
<lb n="152830"/>his head. Her heavy face, her eyes strike him in midbrow. His eyes
<lb n="152831"/>grow dull, darker and pouched, his nose thickens.)</stage>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152832"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152833"/>(mumbles)</stage> Awaiting your further orders we remain, gentlemen, ....</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152834"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152835"/>(with a hard basilisk stare, in a baritone voice)</stage> Hound of dishonour!</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152836"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152837"/>(infatuated)</stage> Empress!</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152838"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152839"/>(his heavy cheekchops sagging)</stage> Adorer of the adulterous rump!</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152840"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152841"/>(plaintively)</stage> Hugeness!</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152842"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><lb n="152843"/>Dungdevourer!</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152844"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152845"/>(with sinews semiflexed)</stage> Magmagnificence!</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152846"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><lb n="152847"/>Down! <stage>(he taps her on the shoulder with his fan)</stage> Incline feet forward!
<lb n="152848"/>Slide left foot one pace back! You will fall. You are falling. On the hands
<lb n="152849"/>down!</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152850"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152851"/>(her eyes upturned in the sign of admiration, closing, yaps)</stage> Truffles!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152852"/>(With a piercing epileptic cry she sinks on all fours, grunting,
<lb n="152853"/>snuffling, rooting at his feet: then lies, shamming dead, with eyes
<lb n="152854"/>shut tight, trembling eyelids, bowed upon the ground in the attitude
<lb n="152855"/>of most excellent master.)</stage>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152856"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152857"/>(with bobbed hair, purple gills, fat moustache rings round his shaven
<lb n="152858"/>mouth, in mountaineer's puttees, green silverbuttoned coat, sport skirt and
<lb n="152859"/>alpine hat with moorcock's feather, his hands stuck deep in his breeches
<lb n="152860"/>pockets, places his heel on her neck and grinds it in)</stage> Footstool! Feel my
<lb n="152861"/>entire weight. Bow, bondslave, before the throne of your despot's glorious
<lb n="152862"/>heels so glistening in their proud erectness.</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152863"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152864"/>(enthralled, bleats)</stage> I promise never to disobey.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152865"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152866"/>(laughs loudly)</stage> Holy smoke! You little know what's in store for you. I'm
<lb n="152867"/>the Tartar to settle your little lot and break you in! I'll bet Kentucky
<lb n="152868"/>cocktails all round I shame it out of you, old son. Cheek me, I dare you. If
<lb n="152869"/>you do tremble in anticipation of heel discipline to be inflicted in gym
<lb n="152870"/>costume.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152871"/>(Bloom creeps under the sofa and peers out through the fringe.)</stage>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152872"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152873"/>(widening her slip to screen her)</stage> She's not here.</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152874"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152875"/>(closing her eyes)</stage> She's not here.</p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="152876"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152877"/>(hiding her with her gown)</stage> She didn't mean it, Mr Bello. She'll be good,
<lb n="152878"/>sir.</p></sp>
<sp who="kr"><speaker><lb n="152879"/>Kitty</speaker>
<p><lb n="152880"/>Don't be too hard on her, Mr Bello. Sure you won't, ma'amsir.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152881"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152882"/>(coaxingly)</stage> Come, ducky dear, I want a word with you, darling, just to
<lb n="152883"/>administer correction. Just a little heart to heart talk, sweety. <stage>(Bloom puts
<lb n="152884"/>out her timid head)</stage> There's a good girly now. <stage>(Bello grabs her hair
<lb n="152885"/>violently and drags her forward)</stage> I only want to correct you for your own
<lb n="152886"/>good on a soft safe spot. How's that tender behind? O, ever so gently, pet.
<lb n="152887"/>Begin to get ready.</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152888"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152889"/>(fainting)</stage> Don't tear my ...</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152890"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152891"/>(savagely)</stage> The nosering, the pliers, the bastinado, the hanging hook, the
<lb n="152892"/>knout I'll make you kiss while the flutes play like the Nubian slave of old.
<lb n="152893"/>You're in for it this time! I'll make you remember me for the balance of
<lb n="152894"/>your natural life. <stage>(his forehead veins swollen, his face congested)</stage> I shall sit
<lb n="152895"/>on your ottoman saddleback every morning after my thumping good
<lb n="152896"/>breakfast of Matterson's fat hamrashers and a bottle of Guinness's porter.
<stage><lb n="152897"/>(he belches)</stage> And suck my thumping good Stock Exchange cigar while I
<lb n="152898"/>read the <title type="newspaper">Licensed Victualler's Gazette</title>. Very possibly I shall have you
<lb n="152899"/>slaughtered and skewered in my stables and enjoy a slice of you with crisp
<lb n="152900"/>crackling from the baking tin basted and baked like sucking pig with rice
<lb n="152901"/>and lemon or currant sauce. It will hurt you. <stage>(He twists her arm. Bloom
<lb n="152902"/>squeals, turning turtle.)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152903"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152904"/>Don't be cruel, nurse! Don't!</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152905"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152906"/>(twisting)</stage> Another!</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152907"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152908"/>(screams)</stage> O, it's hell itself! Every nerve in my body aches like mad!</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152909"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152910"/>(shouts)</stage> Good, by the rumping jumping general! That's the best bit of
<lb n="152911"/>news I heard these six weeks. Here, don't keep me waiting, damn you! <stage>(he
<lb n="152912"/>slaps her face)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152913"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152914"/>(whimpers)</stage> You're after hitting me. I'll tell ....</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152915"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><lb n="152916"/>Hold him down, girls, till I squat on him.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152917"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="152918"/>Yes. Walk on him! I will.</p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="152919"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><lb n="152920"/>I will. Don't be greedy.</p></sp>
<sp who="kr"><speaker><lb n="152921"/>Kitty</speaker>
<p><lb n="152922"/>No, me. Lend him to me.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152923"/>(The brothel cook, Mrs Keogh, wrinkled, greybearded, in a greasy
<lb n="152924"/>bib, men's grey and green socks and brogues, floursmeared, a
<lb n="152925"/>rollingpin stuck with raw pastry in her bare red arm and hand,
<lb n="152926"/>appears at the door.)</stage>
<sp who="mrsk"><speaker><lb n="152927"/>Mrs Keogh</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152928"/>(ferociously)</stage> Can I help?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="152929"/>(They hold and pinion Bloom.)</stage>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152930"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152931"/>(squats with a grunt on Bloom's upturned face, puffing cigarsmoke,
<lb n="152932"/>nursing a fat leg)</stage> I see Keating Clay is elected vicechairman of the
<lb n="152933"/>Richmond asylum and by the by Guinness's preference shares are at sixteen
<lb n="152934"/>three quarters. Curse me for a fool that didn't buy that lot Craig and
<lb n="152935"/>Gardner told me about. Just my infernal luck, curse it. And that
<lb n="152936"/>Goddamned outsider <name type="horse">Throwaway</name> at twenty to one. <stage>(he quenches his cigar
<lb n="152937"/>angrily on Bloom's ear)</stage> Where's that Goddamned cursed ashtray?</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152938"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152939"/>(goaded, buttocksmothered)</stage> O! O! Monsters! Cruel one!</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152940"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><lb n="152941"/>Ask for that every ten minutes. Beg. Pray for it as you never prayed before.
<stage><lb n="152942"/>(he thrusts out a figged fist and foul cigar)</stage> Here, kiss that. Both. Kiss. <stage>(he
<lb n="152943"/>throws a leg astride and, pressing with horseman's knees, calls in a hard
<lb n="152944"/>voice)</stage> Gee up! A cockhorse to Banbury cross. I'll ride him for the Eclipse
<lb n="152945"/>stakes. <stage>(he bends sideways and squeezes his mount's testicles roughly,
<lb n="152946"/>shouting)</stage> Ho! Off we pop! I'll nurse you in proper fashion. <stage>(he horserides
<lb n="152947"/>cockhorse, leaping in the, in the saddle)</stage> The lady goes a pace a pace and
<lb n="152948"/>the coachman goes a trot a trot and the gentleman goes a gallop a gallop a
<lb n="152949"/>gallop a gallop.</p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="152950"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152951"/>(pulls at Bello)</stage> Let me on him now. You had enough. I asked before you.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="152952"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152953"/>(pulling at Florry)</stage> Me. Me. Are you not finished with him yet, suckeress?</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152954"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152955"/>(stifling)</stage> Can't.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152956"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><lb n="152957"/>Well, I'm not. Wait. <stage>(he holds in his breath)</stage> Curse it. Here. This bung's
<lb n="152958"/>about burst. <stage>(he uncorks himself behind: then, contorting his features, farts
<lb n="152959"/>stoutly)</stage> Take that! <stage>(he recorks himself)</stage> Yes, by Jingo, sixteen three
<lb n="152960"/>quarters.</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152961"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152962"/>(a sweat breaking out over him)</stage> Not man. <stage>(he sniffs)</stage> Woman.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152963"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152964"/>(stands up)</stage> No more blow hot and cold. What you longed for has come to
<lb n="152965"/>pass. Henceforth you are unmanned and mine in earnest, a thing under the
<lb n="152966"/>yoke. Now for your punishment frock. You will shed your male garments,
<lb n="152967"/>you understand, Ruby Cohen? and don the shot silk luxuriously rustling
<lb n="152968"/>over head and shoulders. And quickly too!</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152969"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152970"/>(shrinks)</stage> Silk, mistress said! O crinkly! scrapy! Must I tiptouch it with my
<lb n="152971"/>nails?</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152972"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152973"/>(points to his whores)</stage> As they are now so will you be, wigged, singed,
<lb n="152974"/>perfumesprayed, ricepowdered, with smoothshaven armpits. Tape
<lb n="152975"/>measurements will be taken next your skin. You will be laced with cruel
<lb n="152976"/>force into vicelike corsets of soft dove coutille with whalebone busk to the
<lb n="152977"/>diamondtrimmed pelvis, the absolute outside edge, while your figure,
<lb n="152978"/>plumper than when at large, will be restrained in nettight frocks, pretty two
<lb n="152979"/>ounce petticoats and fringes and things stamped, of course, with my
<lb n="152980"/>houseflag, creations of lovely lingerie for Alice and nice scent for Alice.
<lb n="152981"/>Alice will feel the pullpull. Martha and Mary will be a little chilly at first in
<lb n="152982"/>such delicate thighcasing but the frilly flimsiness of lace round your bare
<lb n="152983"/>knees will remind you .....</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152984"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152985"/>(charming soubrette with dauby cheeks, mustard hair and large male
<lb n="152986"/>hands and nose, leering mouth)</stage> I tried her things on only twice, a small
<lb n="152987"/>prank, in Holles street. When we were hard up I washed them to save the
<lb n="152988"/>laundry bill. My own shirts I turned. It was the purest thrift.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152989"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152990"/>(jeers)</stage> Little jobs that make mother pleased, eh? And showed off
<lb n="152991"/>coquettishly in your domino at the mirror behind closedrawn blinds your
<lb n="152992"/>unskirted thighs and hegoat's udders in various poses of surrender, eh?
<lb n="152993"/>Ho! ho! I have to laugh! That secondhand black operatop shift and short
<lb n="152994"/>trunkleg naughties all split up the stitches at her last rape that Mrs Miriam
<lb n="152995"/>Dandrade sold you from the Shelbourne hotel, eh?</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="152996"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="152997"/>Miriam. Black. Demimondaine.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="152998"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="152999"/>(guffaws)</stage> Christ Almighty it's too tickling, this! You were a nicelooking
<lb n="153000"/>Miriam when you clipped off your backgate hairs and lay swooning in the
<lb n="153001"/>thing across the bed as Mrs Dandrade about to be violated by lieutenant
<lb n="153002"/>Smythe-Smythe, Mr Philip Augustus Blockwell M. P., signor Laci Daremo,
<lb n="153003"/>the robust tenor, blueeyed Bert, the liftboy, Henri Fleury of Gordon
<lb n="153004"/>Bennett fame, Sheridan, the quadroon Croesus, the varsity wetbob eight
<lb n="153005"/>from old Trinity, Ponto, her splendid Newfoundland and Bobs, dowager
<lb n="153006"/>duchess of Manorhamilton. <stage>(he guffaws again)</stage> Christ, wouldn't it make a
<lb n="153007"/>Siamese cat laugh?</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="153008"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153009"/>(her hands and features working)</stage> It was Gerald converted me to be a true
<lb n="153010"/>corsetlover when I was female impersonator in the High School play <foreign xml:lang="la">Vice
<lb n="153011"/>Versa</foreign>. It was dear Gerald. He got that kink, fascinated by sister's stays.
<lb n="153012"/>Now dearest Gerald uses pinky greasepaint and gilds his eyelids. Cult of
<lb n="153013"/>the beautiful.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153014"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153015"/>(with wicked glee)</stage> Beautiful! Give us a breather! When you took your seat
<lb n="153016"/>with womanish care, lifting your billowy flounces, on the smoothworn
<lb n="153017"/>throne.</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="153018"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153019"/>Science. To compare the various joys we each enjoy. <stage>(earnestly)</stage> And really
<lb n="153020"/>it's better the position .... because often I used to wet ....</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153021"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153022"/>(sternly)</stage> No insubordination! The sawdust is there in the corner for you. I
<lb n="153023"/>gave you strict instructions, didn't I? Do it standing, sir! I'll teach you to
<lb n="153024"/>behave like a jinkleman! If I catch a trace on your swaddles. Aha! By the
<lb n="153025"/>ass of the Dorans you'll find I'm a martinet. The sins of your past are rising
<lb n="153026"/>against you. Many. Hundreds.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Sins of the Past"><speaker><lb n="153027"/>The Sins of the Past</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153028"/>(in a medley of voices)</stage> He went through a form of clandestine marriage
<lb n="153029"/>with at least one woman in the shadow of the Black church. Unspeakable
<lb n="153030"/>messages he telephoned mentally to Miss Dunn at an address in D'Olier
<lb n="153031"/>street while he presented himself indecently to the instrument in the callbox.
<lb n="153032"/>By word and deed he frankly encouraged a nocturnal strumpet to deposit
<lb n="153033"/>fecal and other matter in an unsanitary outhouse attached to empty
<lb n="153034"/>premises. In five public conveniences he wrote pencilled messages offering
<lb n="153035"/>his nuptial partner to all strongmembered males. And by the offensively
<lb n="153036"/>smelling vitriol works did he not pass night after night by loving courting
<lb n="153037"/>couples to see if and what and how much he could see? Did he not lie in
<lb n="153038"/>bed, the gross boar, gloating over a nauseous fragment of wellused toilet
<lb n="153039"/>paper presented to him by a nasty harlot, stimulated by gingerbread and a
<lb n="153040"/>postal order?</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153041"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153042"/>(whistles loudly)</stage> Say! What was the most revolting piece of obscenity in all
<lb n="153043"/>your career of crime? Go the whole hog. Puke it out! Be candid for once.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153044"/>(Mute inhuman faces throng forward, leering, vanishing, gibbering,
<lb n="153045"/>Booloohoom, Poldy Kock, Bootlaces a penny, Cassidy's hag, blind
<lb n="153046"/>stripling, Larry rhinoceros, the girl, the woman, the whore, the
<lb n="153047"/>other the, lane the.)</stage>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="153048"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153049"/>Don't ask me! Our mutual faith. Pleasants street. I only thought the half of
<lb n="153050"/>the ... I swear on my sacred oath ....</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153051"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153052"/>(peremptorily)</stage> Answer. Repugnant wretch! I insist on knowing. Tell me
<lb n="153053"/>something to amuse me, smut or a bloody good ghoststory or a line of
<lb n="153054"/>poetry, quick, quick, quick! Where? How? What time? With how many? I
<lb n="153055"/>give you just three seconds. One! Two! Thr .....</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="153056"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153057"/>(docile, gurgles)</stage> I rererepugnosed in rerererepugnant ...</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153058"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153059"/>(imperiously)</stage> O, get out, you skunk! Hold your tongue! Speak when
<lb n="153060"/>you're spoken to.</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="153061"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153062"/>(bows)</stage> Master! Mistress! Mantamer!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153063"/>(He lifts his arms. His bangle bracelets fall.)</stage>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153064"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153065"/>(satirically)</stage> By day you will souse and bat our smelling underclothes also
<lb n="153066"/>when we ladies are unwell, and swab out our latrines with dress pinned up
<lb n="153067"/>and a dishclout tied to your tail. Won't that be nice? <stage>(he places a ruby ring
<lb n="153068"/>on her finger)</stage> And there now! With this ring I thee own. Say, <emph>thank you,
<lb n="153069"/>mistress</emph>.</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="153070"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153071"/>Thank you, mistress.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153072"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><lb n="153073"/>You will make the beds, get my tub ready, empty the pisspots in the different
<lb n="153074"/>rooms, including old Mrs Keogh's the cook's, a sandy one. Ay, and rinse
<lb n="153075"/>the seven of them well, mind, or lap it up like champagne. Drink me piping
<lb n="153076"/>hot. Hop! You will dance attendance or I'll lecture you on your misdeeds,
<lb n="153077"/>Miss Ruby, and spank your bare bot right well, miss, with the hairbrush.
<lb n="153078"/>You'll be taught the error of your ways. At night your wellcreamed
<lb n="153079"/>braceletted hands will wear fortythreebutton gloves newpowdered with talc
<lb n="153080"/>and having delicately scented fingertips. For such favours knights of old
<lb n="153081"/>laid down their lives. <stage>(he chuckles)</stage> My boys will be no end charmed to see
<lb n="153082"/>you so ladylike, the colonel, above all, when they come here the night before
<lb n="153083"/>the wedding to fondle my new attraction in gilded heels. First I'll have a go
<lb n="153084"/>at you myself. A man I know on the turf named Charles Alberta Marsh (I
<lb n="153085"/>was in bed with him just now and another gentleman out of the Hanaper
<lb n="153086"/>and Petty Bag office) is on the lookout for a maid of all work at a short
<lb n="153087"/>knock. Swell the bust. Smile. Droop shoulders. What offers? <stage>(he points)</stage>
<lb n="153088"/>For that lot. Trained by owner to fetch and carry, basket in mouth. <stage>(he
<lb n="153089"/>bares his arm and plunges it elbowdeep in Bloom's vulva)</stage> There's fine
<lb n="153090"/>depth for you! What, boys? That give you a hardon? <stage>(he shoves his arm in
<lb n="153091"/>a bidder's face)</stage> Here wet the deck and wipe it round!</p></sp>
<sp who="ubid"><speaker><lb n="153092"/>A Bidder</speaker>
<p><lb n="153093"/>A florin.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153094"/>(Dillon's lacquey rings his handbell.)</stage>
<sp who="dl"><speaker><lb n="153095"/>The Lacquey</speaker>
<p><lb n="153096"/>Barang!</p></sp>
<sp who="A Voice AND Simon Dedalus"><speaker><lb n="153097"/>A Voice</speaker>
<p><lb n="153098"/>One and eightpence too much.</p></sp>
<sp who="cam"><speaker><lb n="153099"/>Charles Alberta Marsh</speaker>
<p><lb n="153100"/>Must be virgin. Good breath. Clean.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153101"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153102"/>(gives a rap with his gavel)</stage> Two bar. Rockbottom figure and cheap at the
<lb n="153103"/>price. Fourteen hands high. Touch and examine shis points. Handle hrim.
<lb n="153104"/>This downy skin, these soft muscles, this tender flesh. If I had only my gold
<lb n="153105"/>piercer here! And quite easy to milk. Three newlaid gallons a day. A pure
<lb n="153106"/>stockgetter, due to lay within the hour. His sire's milk record was a
<lb n="153107"/>thousand gallons of whole milk in forty weeks. Whoa, my jewel! Beg up!
<lb n="153108"/>Whoa! <stage>(he brands his initial C on Bloom's croup)</stage> So! Warranted Cohen!
<lb n="153109"/>What advance on two bob, gentlemen?</p></sp>
<sp who="A Darkvisaged Man"><speaker><lb n="153110"/>A Darkvisaged Man</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153111"/>(in disguised accent)</stage> Hoondert punt sterlink.</p></sp>
<sp who="Voices"><speaker><lb n="153112"/>Voices</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153113"/>(subdued)</stage> For the Caliph. Haroun Al Raschid.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153114"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153115"/>(gaily)</stage> Right. Let them all come. The scanty, daringly short skirt, riding up
<lb n="153116"/>at the knee to show a peep of white pantalette, is a potent weapon and
<lb n="153117"/>transparent stockings, emeraldgartered, with the long straight seam trailing
<lb n="153118"/>up beyond the knee, appeal to the better instincts of the <foreign xml:lang="fr">blasé</foreign> man about
<lb n="153119"/>town. Learn the smooth mincing walk on four inch Louis Quinze heels, the
<lb n="153120"/>Grecian bend with provoking croup, the thighs fluescent, knees modestly
<lb n="153121"/>kissing. Bring all your powers of fascination to bear on them. Pander to
<lb n="153122"/>their Gomorrahan vices.</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="153123"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153124"/>(bends his blushing face into his armpit and simpers with forefinger in
<lb n="153125"/>mouth)</stage> O, I know what you're hinting at now!</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153126"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><lb n="153127"/>What else are you good for, an impotent thing like you? <stage>(he stoops and,
<lb n="153128"/>peering, pokes with his fan rudely under the fat suet folds of Bloom's
<lb n="153129"/>haunches)</stage> Up! Up! Manx cat! What have we here? Where's your curly
<lb n="153130"/>teapot gone to or who docked it on you, cockyolly? Sing, birdy, sing. It's as
<lb n="153131"/>limp as a boy of six's doing his pooly behind a cart. Buy a bucket or sell
<lb n="153132"/>your pump. <stage>(loudly)</stage> Can you do a man's job?</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="153133"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153134"/>Eccles street ....</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153135"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153136"/>(sarcastically)</stage> I wouldn't hurt your feelings for the world but there's a
<lb n="153137"/>man of brawn in possession there. The tables are turned, my gay young
<lb n="153138"/>fellow! He is something like a fullgrown outdoor man. Well for you, you
<lb n="153139"/>muff, if you had that weapon with knobs and lumps and warts all over it.
<lb n="153140"/>He shot his bolt, I can tell you! Foot to foot, knee to knee, belly to belly,
<lb n="153141"/>bubs to breast! He's no eunuch. A shock of red hair he has sticking out of
<lb n="153142"/>him behind like a furzebush! Wait for nine months, my lad! Holy ginger,
<lb n="153143"/>it's kicking and coughing up and down in her guts already! That makes
<lb n="153144"/>you wild, don't it? Touches the spot? <stage>(he spits in contempt)</stage> Spittoon!</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="153145"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153146"/>I was indecently treated, I ..... Inform the police. Hundred pounds.
<lb n="153147"/>Unmentionable. I ....</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153148"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><lb n="153149"/>Would if you could, lame duck. A downpour we want not your drizzle.</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom_F"><speaker><lb n="153150"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153151"/>To drive me mad! Moll! I forgot! Forgive! Moll .... We .... Still .....</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153152"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153153"/>(ruthlessly)</stage> No, Leopold Bloom, all is changed by woman's will since you
<lb n="153154"/>slept horizontal in Sleepy Hollow your night of twenty years. Return and
<lb n="153155"/>see.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153156"/>(Old Sleepy Hollow calls over the wold.)</stage>
<sp who="Sleepy Hollow"><speaker><lb n="153157"/>Sleepy Hollow</speaker>
<p><lb n="153158"/>Rip van Wink! Rip van Winkle!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153159"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153160"/>(in tattered mocassins with a rusty fowlingpiece, tiptoeing, fingertipping,
<lb n="153161"/>his haggard bony bearded face peering through the diamond panes, cries
<lb n="153162"/>out)</stage> I see her! It's she! The first night at Mat Dillon's! But that dress, the
<lb n="153163"/>green! And her hair is dyed gold and he ....</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153164"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153165"/>(laughs mockingly)</stage> That's your daughter, you owl, with a Mullingar
<lb n="153166"/>student.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153167"/>(Milly Bloom, fairhaired, greenvested, slimsandalled, her blue scarf
<lb n="153168"/>in the seawind simply swirling, breaks from the arms of her lover
<lb n="153169"/>and calls, her young eyes wonderwide.)</stage>
<sp who="mib"><speaker><lb n="153170"/>Milly</speaker>
<p><lb n="153171"/>My! It's Papli! But, O Papli, how old you've grown!</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153172"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><lb n="153173"/>Changed, eh? Our whatnot, our writingtable where we never wrote, aunt
<lb n="153174"/>Hegarty's armchair, our classic reprints of old masters. A man and his
<lb n="153175"/>menfriends are living there in clover. The <emph>Cuckoos' Rest</emph>! Why not? How
<lb n="153176"/>many women had you, eh, following them up dark streets, flatfoot, exciting
<lb n="153177"/>them by your smothered grunts, what, you male prostitute? Blameless
<lb n="153178"/>dames with parcels of groceries. Turn about. Sauce for the goose, my
<lb n="153179"/>gander O.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153180"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153181"/>They .... I ....</p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153182"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153183"/>(cuttingly)</stage> Their heelmarks will stamp the Brusselette carpet you bought at
<lb n="153184"/>Wren's auction. In their horseplay with Moll the romp to find the buck flea
<lb n="153185"/>in her breeches they will deface the little statue you carried home in the rain
<lb n="153186"/>for art for art' sake. They will violate the secrets of your bottom drawer.
<lb n="153187"/>Pages will be torn from your handbook of astronomy to make them
<lb n="153188"/>pipespills. And they will spit in your ten shilling brass fender from
<lb n="153189"/>Hampton Leedom's.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153190"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153191"/>Ten and six. The act of low scoundrels. Let me go. I will return. I will
<lb n="153192"/>prove ...</p></sp>
<sp who="A Voice"><speaker><lb n="153193"/>A Voice</speaker>
<p><lb n="153194"/>Swear!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153195"/>(Bloom clenches his fists and crawls forward, a bowieknife between
<lb n="153196"/>his teeth.)</stage>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153197"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><lb n="153198"/>As a paying guest or a kept man? Too late. You have made your secondbest
<lb n="153199"/>bed and others must lie in it. Your epitaph is written. You are down and out
<lb n="153200"/>and don't you forget it, old bean.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153201"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153202"/>Justice! All Ireland versus one! Has nobody ...? <stage>(he bites his thumb)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153203"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><lb n="153204"/>Die and be damned to you if you have any sense of decency or grace about
<lb n="153205"/>you. I can give you a rare old wine that'll send you skipping to hell and
<lb n="153206"/>back. Sign a will and leave us any coin you have! If you have none see you
<lb n="153207"/>damn well get it, steal it, rob it! We'll bury you in our shrubbery jakes
<lb n="153208"/>where you'll be dead and dirty with old Cuck Cohen, my stepnephew I
<lb n="153209"/>married, the bloody old gouty procurator and sodomite with a crick in his
<lb n="153210"/>neck, and my other ten or eleven husbands, whatever the buggers' names
<lb n="153211"/>were, suffocated in the one cesspool. <stage>(he explodes in a loud phlegmy laugh)</stage>
<lb n="153212"/>We'll manure you, Mr Flower! <stage>(he pipes scoffingly)</stage> Byby, Poldy! Byby,
<lb n="153213"/>Papli!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153214"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153215"/>(clasps his head)</stage> My willpower! Memory! I have sinned! I have suff .... <stage>(he
<lb n="153216"/>weeps tearlessly)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="bc2"><speaker><lb n="153217"/>Bello</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153218"/>(sneers)</stage> Crybabby! Crocodile tears!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153219"/>(Bloom, broken, closely veiled for the sacrifice, sobs, his face to the
<lb n="153220"/>earth. The passing bell is heard. Darkshawled figures of the
<lb n="153221"/>circumcised, in sackcloth and ashes, stand by the wailing wall, M.
<lb n="153222"/>Shulomowitz, Joseph Goldwater, Moses Herzog, Harris
<lb n="153223"/>Rosenberg, M. Moisel, J. Citron, Minnie Watchman, P. Mastiansky,
<lb n="153224"/>the reverend Leopold Abramovitz, chazen. With swaying arms they
<lb n="153225"/>wail in pneuma over the recreant Bloom.)</stage>
<sp who="The Circumcised"><speaker><lb n="153226"/>The Circumcised</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153227"/>(in dark guttural chant as they cast dead sea fruit upon him, no flowers)</stage>
<foreign xml:lang="he"><lb n="153228"/>Shema Israel Adonai Elohenu Adonai Echad.</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="Voices"><speaker><lb n="153229"/>Voices</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153230"/>(sighing)</stage> So he's gone. Ah yes. Yes, indeed. Bloom? Never heard of him.
<lb n="153231"/>No? Queer kind of chap. There's the widow. That so? Ah, yes.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153232"/>(From the suttee pyre the flame of gum camphire ascends. The pall
<lb n="153233"/>of incense smoke screens and disperses. Out of her oakframe a
<lb n="153234"/>nymph with hair unbound, lightly clad in teabrown artcolours,
<lb n="153235"/>descends from her grotto and passing under interlacing yews stands
<lb n="153236"/>over Bloom.)</stage>
<sp who="The Yews"><speaker><lb n="153237"/>The Yews</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153238"/>(their leaves whispering)</stage> Sister. Our sister. Ssh!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Nymph"><speaker><lb n="153239"/>The Nymph</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153240"/>(softly)</stage> Mortal! <stage>(kindly)</stage> Nay, dost not weepest!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153241"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153242"/>(crawls jellily forward under the boughs, streaked by sunlight, with
<lb n="153243"/>dignity)</stage> This position. I felt it was expected of me. Force of habit.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Nymph"><speaker><lb n="153244"/>The Nymph</speaker>
<p><lb n="153245"/>Mortal! You found me in evil company, highkickers, coster picnicmakers,
<lb n="153246"/>pugilists, popular generals, immoral panto boys in fleshtights and the nifty
<lb n="153247"/>shimmy dancers, La Aurora and Karini, musical act, the hit of the century.
<lb n="153248"/>I was hidden in cheap pink paper that smelt of rock oil. I was surrounded
<lb n="153249"/>by the stale smut of clubmen, stories to disturb callow youth, ads for
<lb n="153250"/>transparencies, truedup dice and bustpads, proprietary articles and why
<lb n="153251"/>wear a truss with testimonial from ruptured gentleman. Useful hints to the
<lb n="153252"/>married.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153253"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153254"/>(lifts a turtle head towards her lap)</stage> We have met before. On another star.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Nymph"><speaker><lb n="153255"/>The Nymph</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153256"/>(sadly)</stage> Rubber goods. Neverrip brand as supplied to the aristocracy.
<lb n="153257"/>Corsets for men. I cure fits or money refunded. Unsolicited testimonials for
<lb n="153258"/>Professor Waldmann's wonderful chest exuber. My bust developed four
<lb n="153259"/>inches in three weeks, reports Mrs Gus Rublin with photo.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153260"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153261"/>You mean <title type="magazine">Photo Bits</title>?</p></sp>
<sp who="The Nymph"><speaker><lb n="153262"/>The Nymph</speaker>
<p><lb n="153263"/>I do. You bore me away, framed me in oak and tinsel, set me above your
<lb n="153264"/>marriage couch. Unseen, one summer eve, you kissed me in four places.
<lb n="153265"/>And with loving pencil you shaded my eyes, my bosom and my shame.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153266"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153267"/>(humbly kisses her long hair)</stage> Your classic curves, beautiful immortal, I
<lb n="153268"/>was glad to look on you, to praise you, a thing of beauty, almost to pray.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Nymph"><speaker><lb n="153269"/>The Nymph</speaker>
<p><lb n="153270"/>During dark nights I heard your praise.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153271"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153272"/>(quickly)</stage> Yes, yes. You mean that I .... Sleep reveals the worst side of
<lb n="153273"/>everyone, children perhaps excepted. I know I fell out of bed or rather was
<lb n="153274"/>pushed. Steel wine is said to cure snoring. For the rest there is that English
<lb n="153275"/>invention, pamphlet of which I received some days ago, incorrectly
<lb n="153276"/>addressed. It claims to afford a noiseless, inoffensive vent. <stage>(he sighs)</stage> 'Twas
<lb n="153277"/>ever thus. Frailty, thy name is marriage.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Nymph"><speaker><lb n="153278"/>The Nymph</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153279"/>(her fingers in her ears)</stage> And words. They are not in my dictionary.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153280"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153281"/>You understood them?</p></sp>
<sp who="The Yews"><speaker><lb n="153282"/>The Yews</speaker>
<p><lb n="153283"/>Ssh!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Nymph"><speaker><lb n="153284"/>The Nymph</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153285"/>(covers her face with her hands)</stage> What have I not seen in that chamber?
<lb n="153286"/>What must my eyes look down on?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153287"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153288"/>(apologetically)</stage> I know. Soiled personal linen, wrong side up with care.
<lb n="153289"/>The quoits are loose. From Gibraltar by long sea long ago.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Nymph"><speaker><lb n="153290"/>The Nymph</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153291"/>(bends her head)</stage> Worse, worse!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153292"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153293"/>(reflects precautiously)</stage> That antiquated commode. It wasn't her weight.
<lb n="153294"/>She scaled just eleven stone nine. She put on nine pounds after weaning. It
<lb n="153295"/>was a crack and want of glue. Eh? And that absurd orangekeyed utensil
<lb n="153296"/>which has only one handle.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153297"/>(The sound of a waterfall is heard in bright cascade.)</stage>
<sp who="The Waterfall"><speaker><lb n="153298"/>The Waterfall</speaker>
<lg><lb n="153299"/><l>Poulaphouca Poulaphouca</l>
<lb n="153300"/><l>Poulaphouca Poulaphouca.</l></lg></sp>
<sp who="The Yews"><speaker><lb n="153301"/>The Yews</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153302"/>(mingling their boughs)</stage> Listen. Whisper. She is right, our sister. We grew
<lb n="153303"/>by Poulaphouca waterfall. We gave shade on languorous summer days.</p></sp>
<sp who="jwn"><speaker><lb n="153304"/>John Wyse Nolan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153305"/>(in the background, in Irish National Forester's uniform, doffs his plumed
<lb n="153306"/>hat)</stage> Prosper! Give shade on languorous days, trees of Ireland!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Yews"><speaker><lb n="153307"/>The Yews</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153308"/>(murmuring)</stage> Who came to Poulaphouca with the High School excursion?
<lb n="153309"/>Who left his nutquesting classmates to seek our shade?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153310"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153311"/>(scared)</stage> High School of Poula? Mnemo? Not in full possession of
<lb n="153312"/>faculties. Concussion. Run over by tram.</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom AS Echo"><speaker><lb n="153313"/>The Echo</speaker>
<p><lb n="153314"/>Sham!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153315"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153316"/>(pigeonbreasted, bottleshouldered, padded, in nondescript juvenile grey
<lb n="153317"/>and black striped suit, too small for him, white tennis shoes, bordered
<lb n="153318"/>stockings with turnover tops and a red schoolcap with badge)</stage> I was in my
<lb n="153319"/>teens, a growing boy. A little then sufficed, a jolting car, the mingling
<lb n="153320"/>odours of the ladies' cloakroom and lavatory, the throng penned tight on
<lb n="153321"/>the old Royal stairs (for they love crushes, instinct of the herd, and the dark
<lb n="153322"/>sexsmelling theatre unbridles vice), even a pricelist of their hosiery. And
<lb n="153323"/>then the heat. There were sunspots that summer. End of school. And
<lb n="153324"/>tipsycake. Halcyon days.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153325"/>(Halcyon Days, High School boys in blue and white football
<lb n="153326"/>jerseys and shorts, Master Donald Turnbull, Master Abraham
<lb n="153327"/>Chatterton, Master Owen Goldberg, Master Jack Meredith, Master
<lb n="153328"/>Percy Apjohn, stand in a clearing of the trees and shout to Master
<lb n="153329"/>Leopold Bloom.)</stage>
<sp who="The Halcyon Days"><speaker><lb n="153330"/>The Halcyon Days</speaker>
<p><lb n="153331"/>Mackerel! Live us again. Hurray! <stage>(they cheer)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153332"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153333"/>(hobbledehoy, warmgloved, mammamufflered, starred with spent
<lb n="153334"/>snowballs, struggles to rise)</stage> Again! I feel sixteen! What a lark! Let's ring
<lb n="153335"/>all the bells in Montague street. <stage>(he cheers feebly)</stage> Hurray for the High
<lb n="153336"/>School!</p></sp>
<sp who="Leopold Bloom AS Echo"><speaker><lb n="153337"/>The Echo</speaker>
<p><lb n="153338"/>Fool!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Yews"><speaker><lb n="153339"/>The Yews</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153340"/>(rustling)</stage> She is right, our sister. Whisper. <stage>(Whispered kisses are heard in
<lb n="153341"/>all the wood. Faces of hamadryads peep out from the boles and among the
<lb n="153342"/>leaves and break, blossoming into bloom.)</stage> Who profaned our silent shade?</p></sp>
<sp who="The Nymph"><speaker><lb n="153343"/>The Nymph</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153344"/>(coyly, through parting fingers)</stage> There? In the open air?</p></sp>
<sp who="The Yews"><speaker><lb n="153345"/>The Yews</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153346"/>(sweeping downward)</stage> Sister, yes. And on our virgin sward.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Waterfall"><speaker><lb n="153347"/>The Waterfall</speaker>
<lg><lb n="153348"/><l>Poulaphouca Poulaphouca</l>
<lb n="153349"/><l>Phoucaphouca Phoucaphouca.</l></lg></sp>
<sp who="The Nymph"><speaker><lb n="153350"/>The Nymph</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153351"/>(with wide fingers)</stage> O, infamy!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153352"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153353"/>I was precocious. Youth. The fauna. I sacrificed to the god of the forest.
<lb n="153354"/>The flowers that bloom in the spring. It was pairing time. Capillary
<lb n="153355"/>attraction is a natural phenomenon. Lotty Clarke, flaxenhaired, I saw at her
<lb n="153356"/>night toilette through illclosed curtains with poor papa's operaglasses: The
<lb n="153357"/>wanton ate grass wildly. She rolled downhill at Rialto bridge to tempt me
<lb n="153358"/>with her flow of animal spirits. She climbed their crooked tree and I. A saint
<lb n="153359"/>couldn't resist it. The demon possessed me. Besides, who saw?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153360"/>(Staggering Bob, a whitepolled calf, thrusts a ruminating head with
<lb n="153361"/>humid nostrils through the foliage.)</stage>
<sp who="Staggering Bob"><speaker><lb n="153362"/>Staggering Bob</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153363"/>(large teardrops rolling from his prominent eyes, snivels)</stage> Me. Me see.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153364"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153365"/>Simply satisfying a need I ... <stage>(with pathos)</stage> No girl would when I went
<lb n="153366"/>girling. Too ugly. They wouldn't play ....</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153367"/>(High on Ben Howth through rhododendrons a nannygoat passes,
<lb n="153368"/>plumpuddered, buttytailed, dropping currants.)</stage>
<sp who="The Nannygoat"><speaker><lb n="153369"/>The Nannygoat</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153370"/>(bleats)</stage> Megeggaggegg! Nannannanny!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153371"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153372"/>(hatless, flushed, covered with burrs of thistledown and gorsespine)</stage>
<lb n="153373"/>Regularly engaged. Circumstances alter cases. <stage>(he gazes intently
<lb n="153374"/>downwards on the water)</stage> Thirtytwo head over heels per second. Press
<lb n="153375"/>nightmare. Giddy Elijah. Fall from cliff. Sad end of government printer's
<lb n="153376"/>clerk.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153377"/>(Through silversilent summer air the dummy of Bloom, rolled in a
<lb n="153378"/>mummy, rolls roteatingly from the Lion's Head cliff into the purple
<lb n="153379"/>waiting waters.)</stage>
<sp who="The Dummymummy"><speaker><lb n="153380"/>The Dummymummy</speaker>
<p><lb n="153381"/>Bbbbblllllblblblblobschb!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153382"/>(Far out in the bay between Bailey and Kish lights the <name type="ship">Erin's King</name>
<lb n="153383"/>sails, sending a broadening plume of coalsmoke from her funnel
<lb n="153384"/>towards the land.)</stage>
<sp who="jpn"><speaker><lb n="153385"/>Councillor Nannetti</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153386"/>(alone on deck, in dark alpaca, yellowkitefaced, his hand in his waistcoat
<lb n="153387"/>opening, declaims)</stage> When my country takes her place among the nations of
<lb n="153388"/>the earth, then, and not till then, let my epitaph be written. I have ...</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153389"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153390"/>Done. Prff!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Nymph"><speaker><lb n="153391"/>The Nymph</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153392"/>(loftily)</stage> We immortals, as you saw today, have not such a place and no hair
<lb n="153393"/>there either. We are stonecold and pure. We eat electric light. <stage>(she arches
<lb n="153394"/>her body in lascivious crispation, placing her forefinger in her mouth)</stage>
<lb n="153395"/>Spoke to me. Heard from behind. How then could you ...?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153396"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153397"/>(pawing the heather abjectly)</stage> O, I have been a perfect pig. Enemas too I
<lb n="153398"/>have administered. One third of a pint of quassia to which add a
<lb n="153399"/>tablespoonful of rocksalt. Up the fundament. With Hamilton Long's
<lb n="153400"/>syringe, the ladies' friend.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Nymph"><speaker><lb n="153401"/>The Nymph</speaker>
<p><lb n="153402"/>In my presence. The powderpuff. <stage>(she blushes and makes a knee)</stage> And the
<lb n="153403"/>rest!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153404"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153405"/>(dejected)</stage> Yes. <emph>Peccavi!</emph> I have paid homage on that living altar where the
<lb n="153406"/>back changes name. <stage>(with sudden fervour)</stage> For why should the dainty
<lb n="153407"/>scented jewelled hand, the hand that rules ...?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153408"/>(Figures wind serpenting in slow woodland pattern around the
<lb n="153409"/>treestems, cooeeing.)</stage>
<sp who="Kitty Ricketts AS Voice"><speaker><lb n="153410"/>The Voice of Kitty</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153411"/>(in the thicket)</stage> Show us one of them cushions.</p></sp>
<sp who="Florry Talbot AS Voice"><speaker><lb n="153412"/>The Voice of Florry</speaker>
<p><lb n="153413"/>Here.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153414"/>(A grouse wings clumsily through the underwood.)</stage>
<sp who="Lynch AS Voice"><speaker><lb n="153415"/>The Voice of Lynch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153416"/>(in the thicket)</stage> Whew! Piping hot!</p></sp>
<sp who="Zoe Higgins AS Voice"><speaker><lb n="153417"/>The Voice of Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153418"/>(in the thicket)</stage> Came from a hot place.</p></sp>
<sp who="Lipoti Virag AS Voice"><speaker><lb n="153419"/>The Voice of Virag</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153420"/>(a birdchief, bluestreaked and feathered in war panoply with his assegai,
<lb n="153421"/>striding through a crackling canebrake over beechmast and acorns)</stage> Hot!
<lb n="153422"/>Hot! Ware Sitting Bull!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153423"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153424"/>It overpowers me. The warm impress of her warm form. Even to sit where a
<lb n="153425"/>woman has sat, especially with divaricated thighs, as though to grant the
<lb n="153426"/>last favours, most especially with previously well uplifted white sateen
<lb n="153427"/>coatpans. So womanly, full. It fills me full.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Waterfall"><speaker><lb n="153428"/>The Waterfall</speaker>
<lg><lb n="153429"/><l>Phillaphulla Poulaphouca</l>
<lb n="153430"/><l>Poulaphouca Poulaphouca.</l></lg></sp>
<sp who="The Yews"><speaker><lb n="153431"/>The Yews</speaker>
<p><lb n="153432"/>Ssh! Sister, speak!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Nymph"><speaker><lb n="153433"/>The Nymph</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153434"/>(eyeless, in nun's white habit, coif and hugewinged wimple, softly, with
<lb n="153435"/>remote eyes)</stage> Tranquilla convent. Sister Agatha. Mount Carmel. The
<lb n="153436"/>apparitions of Knock and Lourdes. No more desire. <stage>(she reclines her head,
<lb n="153437"/>sighing)</stage> Only the ethereal. Where dreamy creamy gull waves o'er the
<lb n="153438"/>waters dull.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153439"/>(Bloom half rises. His back trouserbutton snaps.)</stage>
<sp who="The Button"><speaker><lb n="153440"/>The Button</speaker>
<p><lb n="153441"/>Bip!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153442"/>(Two sluts of the Coombe dance rainily by, shawled, yelling flatly.)</stage>
<sp who="The Sluts"><speaker><lb n="153443"/>The Sluts</speaker>
<lg><lb n="153444"/><l>O, Leopold lost the pin of his drawers</l>
<lb n="153445"/><l>He didn't know what to do,</l>
<lb n="153446"/><l>To keep it up,</l>
<lb n="153447"/><l>To keep it up.</l></lg></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153448"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153449"/>(coldly)</stage> You have broken the spell. The last straw. If there were only
<lb n="153450"/>ethereal where would you all be, postulants and novices? Shy but willing
<lb n="153451"/>like an ass pissing.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Yews"><speaker><lb n="153452"/>The Yews</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153453"/>(their silverfoil of leaves precipitating, their skinny arms aging and
<lb n="153454"/>swaying)</stage> Deciduously!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Nymph"><speaker><lb n="153455"/>The Nymph</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153456"/>(her features hardening, gropes in the folds of her habit)</stage> Sacrilege! To
<lb n="153457"/>attempt my virtue! <stage>(a large moist stain appears on her robe)</stage> Sully my
<lb n="153458"/>innocence! You are not fit to touch the garment of a pure woman. <stage>(she
<lb n="153459"/>clutches again in her robe)</stage> Wait. Satan, you'll sing no more lovesongs.
<lb n="153460"/>Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. <stage>(she draws a poniard and, clad in the
<lb n="153461"/>sheathmail of an elected knight of nine, strikes at his loins)</stage> Nekum!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153462"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153463"/>(starts up, seizes her hand)</stage> Hoy! Nebrakada! Cat o' nine lives! Fair play,
<lb n="153464"/>madam. No pruningknife. The fox and the grapes, is it? What do you lack
<lb n="153465"/>with your barbed wire? Crucifix not thick enough? <stage>(he clutches her veil)</stage> A
<lb n="153466"/>holy abbot you want or Brophy, the lame gardener, or the spoutless statue
<lb n="153467"/>of the watercarrier, or good mother Alphonsus, eh Reynard?</p></sp>
<sp who="The Nymph"><speaker><lb n="153468"/>The Nymph</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153469"/>(with a cry flees from him unveiled, her plaster cast cracking, a cloud of
<lb n="153470"/>stench escaping from the cracks)</stage> Poli ...!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153471"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153472"/>(calls after her)</stage> As if you didn't get it on the double yourselves. No jerks
<lb n="153473"/>and multiple mucosities all over you. I tried it. Your strength our weakness.
<lb n="153474"/>What's our studfee? What will you pay on the nail? You fee mendancers on
<lb n="153475"/>the Riviera, I read. <stage>(the fleeing nymph raises a keen)</stage> Eh? I have sixteen
<lb n="153476"/>years of black slave labour behind me. And would a jury give me five
<lb n="153477"/>shillings alimony tomorrow, eh? Fool someone else, not me. <stage>(he sniffs)</stage> Rut.
<lb n="153478"/>Onions. Stale. Sulphur. Grease.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153479"/>(The figure of Bella Cohen stands before him.)</stage>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="153480"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><lb n="153481"/>You'll know me the next time.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153482"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153483"/>(composed, regards her)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="fr">Passée.</foreign> Mutton dressed as lamb. Long in the
<lb n="153484"/>tooth and superfluous hair. A raw onion the last thing at night would
<lb n="153485"/>benefit your complexion. And take some double chin drill. Your eyes are as
<lb n="153486"/>vapid as the glasseyes of your stuffed fox. They have the dimensions of your
<lb n="153487"/>other features, that's all. I'm not a triple screw propeller.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="153488"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153489"/>(contemptuously)</stage> You're not game, in fact. <stage>(her sowcunt barks)</stage>
<lb n="153490"/>Fbhracht!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153491"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153492"/>(contemptuously)</stage> Clean your nailless middle finger first, your bully's cold
<lb n="153493"/>spunk is dripping from your cockscomb. Take a handful of hay and wipe
<lb n="153494"/>yourself.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="153495"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><lb n="153496"/>I know you, canvasser! Dead cod!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153497"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153498"/>I saw him, kipkeeper! Pox and gleet vendor!</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="153499"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153500"/>(turns to the piano)</stage> Which of you was playing the dead march from <title type="oratorio">Saul</title>?</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153501"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="153502"/>Me. Mind your cornflowers. <stage>(she darts to the piano and bangs chords on it
<lb n="153503"/>with crossed arms)</stage> The cat's ramble through the slag. <stage>(she glances back)</stage>
<lb n="153504"/>Eh? Who's making love to my sweeties? <stage>(she darts back to the table)</stage>
<lb n="153505"/>What's yours is mine and what's mine is my own.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153506"/>(Kitty, disconcerted, coats her teeth with the silver paper. Bloom
<lb n="153507"/>approaches Zoe.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153508"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153509"/>(gently)</stage> Give me back that potato, will you?</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153510"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="153511"/>Forfeits, a fine thing and a superfine thing.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153512"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153513"/>(with feeling)</stage> It is nothing, but still, a relic of poor mamma.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153514"/>Zoe</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="153515"/><l>Give a thing and take it back</l>
<lb n="153516"/><l>God'll ask you where is that</l>
<lb n="153517"/><l>You'll say you don't know</l>
<lb n="153518"/><l>God'll send you down below.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153519"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153520"/>There is a memory attached to it. I should like to have it.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153521"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="153522"/>To have or not to have that is the question.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153523"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="153524"/>Here. <stage>(she hauls up a reef of her slip, revealing her bare thigh, and unrolls
<lb n="153525"/>the potato from the top of her stocking)</stage> Those that hides knows where to
<lb n="153526"/>find.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="153527"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153528"/>(frowns)</stage> Here. This isn't a musical peepshow. And don't you smash that
<lb n="153529"/>piano. Who's paying here?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153530"/>(She goes to the pianola. Stephen fumbles in his pocket and, taking
<lb n="153531"/>out a banknote by its corner, hands it to her.)</stage>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153532"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153533"/>(with exaggerated politeness)</stage> This silken purse I made out of the sow's ear
<lb n="153534"/>of the public. Madam, excuse me. If you allow me. <stage>(he indicates vaguely
<lb n="153535"/>Lynch and Bloom)</stage> We are all in the same sweepstake, Kinch and Lynch.
<foreign xml:lang="fr"><lb n="153536"/>Dans ce bordel où tenons nostre état.</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="153537"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153538"/>(calls from the hearth)</stage> Dedalus! Give her your blessing for me.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153539"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153540"/>(hands Bella a coin)</stage> Gold. She has it.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="153541"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153542"/>(looks at the money, then at Stephen, then at Zoe, Florry and Kitty)</stage> Do
<lb n="153543"/>you want three girls? It's ten shillings here.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153544"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153545"/>(delightedly)</stage> A hundred thousand apologies. <stage>(he fumbles again and takes
<lb n="153546"/>out and hands her two crowns)</stage> Permit, <foreign xml:lang="it">brevi manu</foreign>, my sight is somewhat
<lb n="153547"/>troubled.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153548"/>(Bella goes to the table to count the money while Stephen talks to
<lb n="153549"/>himself in monosyllables. Zoe bends over the table. Kitty leans over
<lb n="153550"/>Zoe's neck. Lynch gets up, rights his cap and, clasping Kitty's
<lb n="153551"/>waist, adds his head to the group.)</stage>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="153552"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153553"/>(strives heavily to rise)</stage> Ow! My foot's asleep. <stage>(She limps over to the table.
<lb n="153554"/>Bloom approaches.)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="Bella Cohen AND Zoe Higgins AND Kitty Ricketts AND Lynch AND Leopold Bloom"><speaker><lb n="153555"/>Bella, Zoe, Kitty, Lynch, Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153556"/>(chattering and squabbling)</stage> The gentleman ... ten shillings .... paying for
<lb n="153557"/>the three ... allow me a moment ... this gentleman pays separate .... who's
<lb n="153558"/>touching it? ... ow! ... mind who you're pinching ... are you staying the
<lb n="153559"/>night or a short time? ... who did? ... you're a liar, excuse me ... the
<lb n="153560"/>gentleman paid down like a gentleman ... drink ... it's long after eleven.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153561"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153562"/>(at the pianola, making a gesture of abhorrence)</stage> No bottles! What, eleven?
<lb n="153563"/>A riddle!</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153564"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153565"/>(lifting up her pettigown and folding a half sovereign into the top of her
<lb n="153566"/>stocking)</stage> Hard earned on the flat of my back.</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="153567"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153568"/>(lifting Kitty from the table)</stage> Come!</p></sp>
<sp who="kr"><speaker><lb n="153569"/>Kitty</speaker>
<p><lb n="153570"/>Wait. <stage>(she clutches the two crowns)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="153571"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><lb n="153572"/>And me?</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="153573"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><lb n="153574"/>Hoopla!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153575"/>(He lifts her, carries her and bumps her down on the sofa.)</stage>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153576"/>Stephen</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="153577"/><l>The fox crew, the cocks flew,</l>
<lb n="153578"/><l>The bells in heaven</l>
<lb n="153579"/><l>Were striking eleven.</l>
<lb n="153580"/><l>'Tis time for her poor soul</l>
<lb n="153581"/><l>To get out of heaven.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153582"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153583"/>(quietly lays a half sovereign on the table between Bella and Florry)</stage> So.
<lb n="153584"/>Allow me. <stage>(he takes up the poundnote)</stage> Three times ten. We're square.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="153585"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153586"/>(admiringly)</stage> You're such a slyboots, old cocky. I could kiss you.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153587"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153588"/>(points)</stage> Him? Deep as a drawwell.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153589"/>(Lynch bends Kitty back over the sofa and kisses her. Bloom goes
<lb n="153590"/>with the poundnote to Stephen.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153591"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153592"/>This is yours.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153593"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="153594"/>How is that? The distrait or absentminded beggar. <stage>(He fumbles again in
<lb n="153595"/>his pocket and draws out a handful of coins. An object falls.)</stage> That fell.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153596"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153597"/>(stooping, picks up and hands a box of matches)</stage> This.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153598"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="153599"/>Lucifer. Thanks.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153600"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153601"/>(quietly)</stage> You had better hand over that cash to me to take care of. Why
<lb n="153602"/>pay more?</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153603"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153604"/>(hands him all his coins)</stage> Be just before you are generous.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153605"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153606"/>I will but is it wise? <stage>(he counts)</stage> One, seven, eleven, and five. Six. Eleven. I
<lb n="153607"/>don't answer for what you may have lost.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153608"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="153609"/>Why striking eleven? Proparoxyton. Moment before the next Lessing says.
<lb n="153610"/>Thirsty fox. <stage>(he laughs loudly)</stage> Burying his grandmother. Probably he
<lb n="153611"/>killed her.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153612"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153613"/>That is one pound six and eleven. One pound seven, say.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153614"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="153615"/>Doesn't matter a rambling damn.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153616"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153617"/>No, but ....</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153618"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153619"/>(comes to the table)</stage> Cigarette, please. <stage>(Lynch tosses a cigarette from the
<lb n="153620"/>sofa to the table)</stage> And so Georgina Johnson is dead and married. <stage>(A
<lb n="153621"/>cigarette appears on the table. Stephen looks at it.)</stage> Wonder. Parlour
<lb n="153622"/>magic. Married. Hm. <stage>(he strikes a match and proceeds to light the cigarette
<lb n="153623"/>with enigmatic melancholy)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="153624"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153625"/>(watching him)</stage> You would have a better chance of lighting it if you held
<lb n="153626"/>the match nearer.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153627"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153628"/>(brings the match near his eye)</stage> Lynx eye. Must get glasses. Broke them
<lb n="153629"/>yesterday. Sixteen years ago. Distance. The eye sees all flat. <stage>(He draws the
<lb n="153630"/>match away. It goes out.)</stage> Brain thinks. Near: far. Ineluctable modality of
<lb n="153631"/>the visible. <stage>(he frowns mysteriously)</stage> Hm. Sphinx. The beast that has two
<lb n="153632"/>backs at midnight. Married.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153633"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="153634"/>It was a commercial traveller married her and took her away with him.</p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="153635"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153636"/>(nods)</stage> Mr Lambe from London.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153637"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="153638"/>Lamb of London, who takest away the sins of our world.</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="153639"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153640"/>(embracing Kitty on the sofa, chants deeply)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="la">Dona nobis pacem.</foreign></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153641"/>(The cigarette slips from Stephen's fingers. Bloom picks it up and
<lb n="153642"/>throws it in the grate.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153643"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153644"/>Don't smoke. You ought to eat. Cursed dog I met. <stage>(to Zoe)</stage> You have
<lb n="153645"/>nothing?</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153646"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="153647"/>Is he hungry?</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153648"/>Stephen</speaker>
<stage><lb n="153649"/>(extends his hand to her smiling and chants to the air of the bloodoath in
<title type="opera"><lb n="153650"/>The Dusk of the Gods</title>)</stage>
<lg><lb n="153651"/><l>Hangende Hunger,</l>
<lb n="153652"/><l>Fragende Frau,</l>
<lb n="153653"/><l>Macht uns alle kaputt.</l></lg></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153654"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153655"/>(tragically)</stage> Hamlet, I am thy father's gimlet! <stage>(she takes his hand)</stage> Blue
<lb n="153656"/>eyes beauty I'll read your hand. <stage>(she points to his forehead)</stage> No wit, no
<lb n="153657"/>wrinkles. <stage>(she counts)</stage> Two, three, Mars, that's courage. <stage>(Stephen shakes
<lb n="153658"/>his head)</stage> No kid.</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="153659"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><lb n="153660"/>Sheet lightning courage. The youth who could not shiver and shake. <stage>(to
<lb n="153661"/>Zoe)</stage> Who taught you palmistry?</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153662"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153663"/>(turns)</stage> Ask my ballocks that I haven't got. <stage>(to Stephen)</stage> I see it in your
<lb n="153664"/>face. The eye, like that. <stage>(she frowns with lowered head)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="153665"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153666"/>(laughing, slaps Kitty behind twice)</stage> Like that. Pandybat.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153667"/>(Twice loudly a pandybat cracks, the coffin of the pianola flies open,
<lb n="153668"/>the bald little round jack-in-the-box head of Father Dolan springs
<lb n="153669"/>up.)</stage>
<sp who="frd"><speaker><lb n="153670"/>Father Dolan</speaker>
<p><lb n="153671"/>Any boy want flogging? Broke his glasses? Lazy idle little schemer. See it in
<lb n="153672"/>your eye.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153673"/>(Mild, benign, rectorial, reproving, the head of Don John Conmee
<lb n="153674"/>rises from the pianola coffin.)</stage>
<sp who="John Conmee AS Head"><speaker><lb n="153675"/>Don John Conmee</speaker>
<p><lb n="153676"/>Now, Father Dolan! Now. I'm sure that Stephen is a very good little boy!</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153677"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153678"/>(examining Stephen's palm)</stage> Woman's hand.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153679"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153680"/>(murmurs)</stage> Continue. Lie. Hold me. Caress. I never could read His
<lb n="153681"/>handwriting except His criminal thumbprint on the haddock.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153682"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="153683"/>What day were you born?</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153684"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="153685"/>Thursday. Today.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153686"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="153687"/>Thursday's child has far to go. <stage>(she traces lines on his hand)</stage> Line of fate.
<lb n="153688"/>Influential friends.</p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="153689"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153690"/>(pointing)</stage> Imagination.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153691"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="153692"/>Mount of the moon. You'll meet with a .... <stage>(she peers at his hands abruptly)</stage>
<lb n="153693"/>I won't tell you what's not good for you. Or do you want to know?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153694"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153695"/>(detaches her fingers and offers his palm)</stage> More harm than good. Here.
<lb n="153696"/>Read mine.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="153697"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><lb n="153698"/>Show. <stage>(she turns up Bloom's hand)</stage> I thought so. Knobby knuckles for the
<lb n="153699"/>women.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153700"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153701"/>(peering at Bloom's palm)</stage> Gridiron. Travels beyond the sea and marry
<lb n="153702"/>money.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153703"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153704"/>Wrong.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153705"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153706"/>(quickly)</stage> O, I see. Short little finger. Henpecked husband. That wrong?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153707"/>(Black Liz, a huge rooster hatching in a chalked circle, rises,
<lb n="153708"/>stretches her wings and clucks.)</stage>
<sp who="bliz"><speaker><lb n="153709"/>Black Liz</speaker>
<p><lb n="153710"/>Gara. Klook. Klook. Klook. <stage>(she sidles from her newlaid egg and waddles
<lb n="153711"/>off)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153712"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153713"/>(points to his hand)</stage> That weal there is an accident. Fell and cut it
<lb n="153714"/>twentytwo years ago. I was sixteen.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153715"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="153716"/>I see, says the blind man. Tell us news.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153717"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="153718"/>See? Moves to one great goal. I am twentytwo. Sixteen years ago he was
<lb n="153719"/>twentytwo too. Sixteen years ago I twentytwo tumbled. Twentytwo years
<lb n="153720"/>ago he sixteen fell off his hobbyhorse. <stage>(he winces)</stage> Hurt my hand
<lb n="153721"/>somewhere. Must see a dentist. Money?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153722"/>(Zoe whispers to Florry. They giggle. Bloom releases his hand and
<lb n="153723"/>writes idly on the table in backhand, pencilling slow curves.)</stage>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="153724"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><lb n="153725"/>What?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153726"/>(A hackneycar, number three hundred and twentyfour, with a
<lb n="153727"/>gallantbuttocked mare, driven by James Barton, Harmony avenue,
<lb n="153728"/>Donnybrook, trots past. Blazes Boylan and Lenehan sprawl
<lb n="153729"/>swaying on the sideseats. The Ormond boots crouches behind on
<lb n="153730"/>the axle. Sadly over the crossblind Lydia Douce and Mina Kennedy
<lb n="153731"/>gaze.)</stage>
<sp who="ubo"><speaker><lb n="153732"/>The Boots</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153733"/>(jogging, mocks them with thumb and wriggling wormfingers)</stage> Haw haw
<lb n="153734"/>have you the horn?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153735"/>(Bronze by gold they whisper.)</stage>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153736"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153737"/>(to Florry)</stage> Whisper. <stage>(she whispers again)</stage></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153738"/>(Over the well of the car Blazes Boylan leans, his boater straw set
<lb n="153739"/>sideways, a red flower in his mouth. Lenehan in yachtsman's cap
<lb n="153740"/>and white shoes officiously detaches a long hair from Blazes
<lb n="153741"/>Boylan's coat shoulder.)</stage>
<sp who="len"><speaker><lb n="153742"/>Lenehan</speaker>
<p><lb n="153743"/>Ho! What do I here behold? Were you brushing the cobwebs off a few
<lb n="153744"/>quims?</p></sp>
<sp who="bb"><speaker><lb n="153745"/>Boylan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153746"/>(sated, smiles)</stage> Plucking a turkey.</p></sp>
<sp who="len"><speaker><lb n="153747"/>Lenehan</speaker>
<p><lb n="153748"/>A good night's work.</p></sp>
<sp who="bb"><speaker><lb n="153749"/>Boylan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153750"/>(holding up four thick bluntungulated fingers, winks)</stage> Blazes Kate! Up to
<lb n="153751"/>sample or your money back. <stage>(he holds out a forefinger)</stage> Smell that.</p></sp>
<sp who="len"><speaker><lb n="153752"/>Lenehan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153753"/>(smells gleefully)</stage> Ah! Lobster and mayonnaise. Ah!</p></sp>
<sp who="Zoe Higgins AND Florry Talbot"><speaker><lb n="153754"/>Zoe and Florry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153755"/>(laugh together)</stage> Ha ha ha ha.</p></sp>
<sp who="bb"><speaker><lb n="153756"/>Boylan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153757"/>(jumps surely from the car and calls loudly for all to hear)</stage> Hello, Bloom!
<lb n="153758"/>Mrs Bloom dressed yet?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153759"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153760"/>(in flunkey's prune plush coat and kneebreeches, buff stockings and
<lb n="153761"/>powdered wig)</stage> I'm afraid not, sir. The last articles .....</p></sp>
<sp who="bb"><speaker><lb n="153762"/>Boylan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153763"/>(tosses him sixpence)</stage> Here, to buy yourself a gin and splash. <stage>(he hangs his
<lb n="153764"/>hat smartly on a peg of Bloom's antlered head)</stage> Show me in. I have a little
<lb n="153765"/>private business with your wife, you understand?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153766"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153767"/>Thank you, sir. Yes, sir. Madam Tweedy is in her bath, sir.</p></sp>
<sp who="mb"><speaker><lb n="153768"/>Marion</speaker>
<p><lb n="153769"/>He ought to feel himself highly honoured. <stage>(she plops splashing out of the
<lb n="153770"/>water)</stage> Raoul darling, come and dry me. I'm in my pelt. Only my new hat
<lb n="153771"/>and a carriage sponge.</p></sp>
<sp who="bb"><speaker><lb n="153772"/>Boylan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153773"/>(a merry twinkle in his eye)</stage> Topping!</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="153774"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><lb n="153775"/>What? What is it?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153776"/>(Zoe whispers to her.)</stage>
<sp who="mb"><speaker><lb n="153777"/>Marion</speaker>
<p><lb n="153778"/>Let him look, the pishogue! Pimp! And scourge himself! I'll write to a
<lb n="153779"/>powerful prostitute or Bartholomona, the bearded woman, to raise weals
<lb n="153780"/>out on him an inch thick and make him bring me back a signed and
<lb n="153781"/>stamped receipt.</p></sp>
<sp who="bb"><speaker><lb n="153782"/>Boylan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153783"/>(clasps himself)</stage> Here, I can't hold this little lot much longer. <stage>(he strides off
<lb n="153784"/>on stiff cavalry legs)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="153785"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153786"/>(laughing)</stage> Ho ho ho ho.</p></sp>
<sp who="bb"><speaker><lb n="153787"/>Boylan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153788"/>(to Bloom, over his shoulder)</stage> You can apply your eye to the keyhole and
<lb n="153789"/>play with yourself while I just go through her a few times.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153790"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153791"/>Thank you, sir. I will, sir. May I bring two men chums to witness the deed
<lb n="153792"/>and take a snapshot? <stage>(he holds out an ointment jar)</stage> Vaseline, sir?
<lb n="153793"/>Orangeflower ...? Lukewarm water ...?</p></sp>
<sp who="kr"><speaker><lb n="153794"/>Kitty</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153795"/>(from the sofa)</stage> Tell us, Florry. Tell us. What ...</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153796"/>(Florry whispers to her. Whispering lovewords murmur, liplapping
<lb n="153797"/>loudly, poppysmic plopslop.)</stage>
<sp who="mk"><speaker><lb n="153798"/>Mina Kennedy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153799"/>(her eyes upturned)</stage> O, it must be like the scent of geraniums and lovely
<lb n="153800"/>peaches! O, he simply idolises every bit of her! Stuck together! Covered
<lb n="153801"/>with kisses!</p></sp>
<sp who="ld"><speaker><lb n="153802"/>Lydia Douce</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153803"/>(her mouth opening)</stage> Yumyum. O, he's carrying her round the room doing
<lb n="153804"/>it! Ride a cockhorse. You could hear them in Paris and New York. Like
<lb n="153805"/>mouthfuls of strawberries and cream.</p></sp>
<sp who="kr"><speaker><lb n="153806"/>Kitty</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153807"/>(laughing)</stage> Hee hee hee.</p></sp>
<sp who="Blazes Boylan AS Voice"><speaker><lb n="153808"/>Boylan's Voice</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153809"/>(sweetly, hoarsely, in the pit of his stomach)</stage> Ah! Godblaze-
<lb n="153810"/>grukbrukarchkhrasht!</p></sp>
<sp who="Molly Bloom AS Voice"><speaker><lb n="153811"/>Marion's Voice</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153812"/>(hoarsely, sweetly, rising to her throat)</stage> O! Weeshwashtkissinapoo-
<lb n="153813"/>isthnapoohuck?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153814"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153815"/>(his eyes wildly dilated, clasps himself)</stage> Show! Hide! Show! Plough her!
<lb n="153816"/>More! Shoot!</p></sp>
<sp who="Bella Cohen AND Zoe Higgins AND Florry Talbot AND Kitty Ricketts"><speaker><lb n="153817"/>Bella, Zoe, Florry, Kitty</speaker>
<p><lb n="153818"/>Ho ho! Ha ha! Hee hee!</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="153819"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153820"/>(points)</stage> The mirror up to nature. <stage>(he laughs)</stage> Hu hu hu hu hu!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153821"/>(Stephen and Bloom gaze in the mirror. The face of William
<lb n="153822"/>Shakespeare, beardless, appears there, rigid in facial paralysis,
<lb n="153823"/>crowned by the reflection of the reindeer antlered hatrack in the
<lb n="153824"/>hall.)</stage>
<sp who="wshak"><speaker><lb n="153825"/>Shakespeare</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153826"/>(in dignified ventriloquy)</stage> 'Tis the loud laugh bespeaks the vacant mind. <stage>(to
<lb n="153827"/>Bloom)</stage> Thou thoughtest as how thou wastest invisible. Gaze. <stage>(he crows
<lb n="153828"/>with a black capon's laugh)</stage> Iagogo! How my Oldfellow chokit his
<lb n="153829"/>Thursdaymornun. Iagogogo!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153830"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153831"/>(smiles yellowly at the three whores)</stage> When will I hear the joke?</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153832"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="153833"/>Before you're twice married and once a widower.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153834"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153835"/>Lapses are condoned. Even the great Napoleon when measurements were
<lb n="153836"/>taken next the skin after his death ...</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153837"/>(Mrs Dignam, widow woman, her snubnose and cheeks flushed
<lb n="153838"/>with deathtalk, tears and Tunney's tawny sherry, hurries by in her
<lb n="153839"/>weeds, her bonnet awry, rouging and powdering her cheeks, lips
<lb n="153840"/>and nose, a pen chivvying her brood of cygnets. Beneath her skirt
<lb n="153841"/>appear her late husband's everyday trousers and turnedup boots,
<lb n="153842"/>large eights. She holds a Scottish Widows' insurance policy and a
<lb n="153843"/>large marquee umbrella under which her brood run with her, Patsy
<lb n="153844"/>hopping on one shod foot, his collar loose, a hank of porksteaks
<lb n="153845"/>dangling, Freddy whimpering, Susy with a crying cod's mouth,
<lb n="153846"/>Alice struggling with the baby. She cuffs them on, her streamers
<lb n="153847"/>flaunting aloft.)</stage>
<sp who="fd"><speaker><lb n="153848"/>Freddy</speaker>
<p><lb n="153849"/>Ah, ma, you're dragging me along!</p></sp>
<sp who="sud"><speaker><lb n="153850"/>Susy</speaker>
<p><lb n="153851"/>Mamma, the beeftea is fizzing over!</p></sp>
<sp who="wshak"><speaker><lb n="153852"/>Shakespeare</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153853"/>(with paralytic rage)</stage> Weda seca whokilla farst.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153854"/>(The face of Martin Cunningham, bearded, refeatures
<lb n="153855"/>Shakespeare's beardless face. The marquee umbrella sways
<lb n="153856"/>drunkenly, the children run aside. Under the umbrella appears Mrs
<lb n="153857"/>Cunningham in merry widow hat and kimono gown. She glides
<lb n="153858"/>sidling and bowing, twirling japanesily.)</stage>
<sp who="mrscu"><speaker><lb n="153859"/>Mrs Cunningham</speaker>
<stage><lb n="153860"/>(sings)</stage>
<quote><lg><lb n="153861"/><l>And they call me the jewel of Asia!</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="mc"><speaker><lb n="153862"/>Martin Cunningham</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153863"/>(gazes on her, impassive)</stage> Immense! Most bloody awful demirep!</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153864"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="la"><lb n="153865"/>Et exaltabuntur cornua iusti.</foreign> Queens lay with prize bulls. Remember
<lb n="153866"/>Pasiphae for whose lust my grandoldgrossfather made the first
<lb n="153867"/>confessionbox. Forget not Madam Grissel Steevens nor the suine scions of
<lb n="153868"/>the house of Lambert. And Noah was drunk with wine. And his ark was
<lb n="153869"/>open.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="153870"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><lb n="153871"/>None of that here. Come to the wrong shop.</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="153872"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><lb n="153873"/>Let him alone. He's back from Paris.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153874"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153875"/>(runs to Stephen and links him)</stage> O go on! Give us some parleyvoo.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153876"/>(Stephen claps hat on head and leaps over to the fireplace where he
<lb n="153877"/>stands with shrugged shoulders, finny hands outspread, a painted
<lb n="153878"/>smile on his face.)</stage>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="153879"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153880"/>(pommelling on the sofa)</stage> Rmm Rmm Rmm Rrrrrrmmmm.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153881"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153882"/>(gabbles with marionette jerks)</stage> Thousand places of entertainment to
<lb n="153883"/>expense your evenings with lovely ladies saling gloves and other things
<lb n="153884"/>perhaps hers heart beerchops perfect fashionable house very eccentric
<lb n="153885"/>where lots cocottes beautiful dressed much about princesses like are
<lb n="153886"/>dancing cancan and walking there parisian clowneries extra foolish for
<lb n="153887"/>bachelors foreigns the same if talking a poor english how much smart they
<lb n="153888"/>are on things love and sensations voluptuous. Misters very selects for is
<lb n="153889"/>pleasure must to visit heaven and hell show with mortuary candles and they
<lb n="153890"/>tears silver which occur every night. Perfectly shocking terrific of religion's
<lb n="153891"/>things mockery seen in universal world. All chic womans which arrive full
<lb n="153892"/>of modesty then disrobe and squeal loud to see vampire man debauch nun
<lb n="153893"/>very fresh young with <foreign xml:lang="fr">dessous troublants</foreign>. <stage>(he clacks his tongue loudly)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="fr">Ho,
<lb n="153894"/>là là! Ce pif qu'il a!</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="153895"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="fr"><lb n="153896"/>Vive le vampire!</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="Zoe Higgins AND Kitty Ricketts AND Florry Talbot"><speaker><lb n="153897"/>The Whores</speaker>
<p><lb n="153898"/>Bravo! Parleyvoo!</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153899"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153900"/>(with head back, laughs loudly, clapping himself grimacing)</stage> Great success
<lb n="153901"/>of laughing. Angels much prostitutes like and holy apostles big damn
<lb n="153902"/>ruffians. <foreign xml:lang="fr">Demimondaines</foreign> nicely handsome sparkling of diamonds very
<lb n="153903"/>amiable costumed. Or do you are fond better what belongs they moderns
<lb n="153904"/>pleasure turpitude of old mans? <stage>(he points about him with grotesque
<lb n="153905"/>gestures which Lynch and the whores reply to)</stage> Caoutchouc statue woman
<lb n="153906"/>reversible or lifesize tompeeptom of virgins nudities very lesbic the kiss five
<lb n="153907"/>ten times. Enter, gentleman, to see in mirror every positions trapezes all that
<lb n="153908"/>machine there besides also if desire act awfully bestial butcher's boy
<lb n="153909"/>pollutes in warm veal liver or omlet on the belly <foreign xml:lang="fr">pièce de Shakespeare</foreign>.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="153910"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153911"/>(clapping her belly sinks back on the sofa, with a shout of laughter)</stage> An
<lb n="153912"/>omelette on the .... Ho! ho! ho! ho! ... omelette on the ....</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153913"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153914"/>(mincingly)</stage> I love you, sir darling. Speak you englishman tongue for
<foreign xml:lang="fr"><lb n="153915"/>double entente cordiale</foreign>. O yes, <foreign xml:lang="fr">mon loup</foreign>. How much cost? Waterloo.
<lb n="153916"/>Watercloset. <stage>(he ceases suddenly and holds up a forefinger)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="153917"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153918"/>(laughing)</stage> Omelette ....</p></sp>
<sp who="Zoe Higgins AND Kitty Ricketts AND Florry Talbot"><speaker><lb n="153919"/>The Whores</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153920"/>(laughing)</stage> Encore! Encore!</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153921"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="153922"/>Mark me. I dreamt of a watermelon.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153923"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="153924"/>Go abroad and love a foreign lady.</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="153925"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><lb n="153926"/>Across the world for a wife.</p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="153927"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><lb n="153928"/>Dreams goes by contraries.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153929"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153930"/>(extends his arms)</stage> It was here. Street of harlots. In Serpentine avenue
<lb n="153931"/>Beelzebub showed me her, a fubsy widow. Where's the red carpet spread?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153932"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153933"/>(approaching Stephen)</stage> Look ....</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153934"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="153935"/>No, I flew. My foes beneath me. And ever shall be. World without end. <stage>(he
<lb n="153936"/>cries)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="la">Pater!</foreign> Free!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="153937"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="153938"/>I say, look ...</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153939"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="153940"/>Break my spirit, will he? <foreign xml:lang="fr">O merde alors!</foreign> <stage>(he cries, his vulture talons
<lb n="153941"/>sharpened)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="es">Holà!</foreign> Hillyho!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153942"/>(Simon Dedalus' voice hilloes in answer, somewhat sleepy but
<lb n="153943"/>ready.)</stage>
<sp who="Simon Dedalus AS Voice"><speaker><lb n="153944"/>Simon</speaker>
<p><lb n="153945"/>That's all right. <stage>(he swoops uncertainly through the air, wheeling, uttering
<lb n="153946"/>cries of heartening, on strong ponderous buzzard wings)</stage> Ho, boy! Are
<lb n="153947"/>you going to win? Hoop! Pschatt! Stable with those halfcastes. Wouldn't let
<lb n="153948"/>them within the bawl of an ass. Head up! Keep our flag flying! An eagle
<lb n="153949"/>gules volant in a field argent displayed. Ulster king at arms! Haihoop! <stage>(he
<lb n="153950"/>makes the beagle's call, giving tongue)</stage> Bulbul! Burblblburblbl! Hai, boy!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153951"/>(The fronds and spaces of the wallpaper file rapidly crosscountry.
<lb n="153952"/>A stout fox, drawn from covert, brush pointed, having buried his
<lb n="153953"/>grandmother, runs swift for the open, brighteyed, seeking badger
<lb n="153954"/>earth, under the leaves. The pack of staghounds follows, nose to the
<lb n="153955"/>ground, sniffing their quarry, beaglebaying, burblbrbling to be
<lb n="153956"/>blooded. Ward Union huntsmen and huntswomen live with them,
<lb n="153957"/>hot for a kill. From Six Mile Point, Flathouse, Nine Mile Stone
<lb n="153958"/>follow the footpeople with knotty sticks, hayforks, salmongaffs,
<lb n="153959"/>lassos, flockmasters with stockwhips, bearbaiters with tomtoms,
<lb n="153960"/>toreadors with bullswords, grey negroes waving torches. The crowd
<lb n="153961"/>bawls of dicers, crown and anchor players, thimbleriggers,
<lb n="153962"/>broadsmen. Crows and touts, hoarse bookies in high wizard hats
<lb n="153963"/>clamour deafeningly.)</stage>
<sp who="The Crowd"><speaker><lb n="153964"/>The Crowd</speaker>
<p><lb n="153965"/>Card of the races. Racing card!
<lb n="153966"/>Ten to one the field!
<lb n="153967"/>Tommy on the clay here! Tommy on the clay!
<lb n="153968"/>Ten to one bar one! Ten to one bar one!
<lb n="153969"/>Try your luck on Spinning Jenny!
<lb n="153970"/>Ten to one bar one!
<lb n="153971"/>Sell the monkey, boys! Sell the monkey!
<lb n="153972"/>I'll give ten to one!
<lb n="153973"/>Ten to one bar one!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153974"/>(A dark horse, riderless, bolts like a phantom past the winningpost,
<lb n="153975"/>his mane moonfoaming, his eyeballs stars. The field follows, a
<lb n="153976"/>bunch of bucking mounts. Skeleton horses, Sceptre, Maximum the
<lb n="153977"/>Second, Zinfandel, the duke of Westminster's Shotover, Repulse,
<lb n="153978"/>the duke of Beaufort's Ceylon, prix de Paris. Dwarfs ride them,
<lb n="153979"/>rustyarmoured, leaping, leaping in their, in their saddles. Last in a
<lb n="153980"/>drizzle of rain on a brokenwinded isabelle nag, Cock of the North,
<lb n="153981"/>the favourite, honey cap, green jacket, orange sleeves, Garrett Deasy
<lb n="153982"/>up, gripping the reins, a hockeystick at the ready. His nag on
<lb n="153983"/>spavined whitegaitered feet jogs along the rocky road.)</stage>
<sp who="The Orange Lodges"><speaker><lb n="153984"/>The Orange Lodges</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153985"/>(jeering)</stage> Get down and push, mister. Last lap! You'll be home the night!</p></sp>
<sp who="gd"><speaker><lb n="153986"/>Garrett Deasy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="153987"/>(bolt upright, his nailscraped face plastered with postagestamps, brandishes
<lb n="153988"/>his hockeystick, his blue eyes flashing in the prism of the chandelier as his
<lb n="153989"/>mount lopes by at schooling gallop)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="la">Per vias rectas!</foreign></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153990"/>(A yoke of buckets leopards all over him and his rearing nag a
<lb n="153991"/>torrent of mutton broth with dancing coins of carrots, barley,
<lb n="153992"/>onions, turnips, potatoes.)</stage>
<sp who="The Green Lodges"><speaker><lb n="153993"/>The Green Lodges</speaker>
<p><lb n="153994"/>Soft day, sir John! Soft day, your honour!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="153995"/>(Private Carr, Private Compton and Cissy Caffrey pass beneath the
<lb n="153996"/>windows, singing in discord.)</stage>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="153997"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="153998"/>Hark! Our friend noise in the street.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="153999"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154000"/>(holds up her hand)</stage> Stop!</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr AND Private Compton AND Cissy Caffrey"><speaker><lb n="154001"/>Private Carr, Private Compton and Cissy Caffrey</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="154002"/><l>Yet I've a sort of a</l>
<lb n="154003"/><l>Yorkshire relish for ...</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="154004"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="154005"/>That's me. <stage>(she claps her hands)</stage> Dance! Dance! <stage>(she runs to the pianola)</stage>
<lb n="154006"/>Who has twopence?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154007"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="154008"/>Who'll ...?</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="154009"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154010"/>(handing her coins)</stage> Here.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154011"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154012"/>(cracking his fingers impatiently)</stage> Quick! Quick! Where's my augur's rod?
<stage><lb n="154013"/>(he runs to the piano and takes his ashplant, beating his foot in tripudium)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="154014"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154015"/>(turns the drumhandle)</stage> There.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154016"/>(She drops two pennies in the slot. Gold, pink and violet lights start
<lb n="154017"/>forth. The drum turns purring in low hesitation waltz. Professor
<lb n="154018"/>Goodwin, in a bowknotted periwig, in court dress, wearing a
<lb n="154019"/>stained Inverness cape, bent in two from incredible age, totters
<lb n="154020"/>across the room, his hands fluttering. He sits tinily on the pianostool
<lb n="154021"/>and lifts and beats handless sticks of arms on the keyboard, nodding
<lb n="154022"/>with damsel's grace, his bowknot bobbing.)</stage>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="154023"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154024"/>(twirls round herself, heeltapping)</stage> Dance. Anybody here for there?
<lb n="154025"/>Who'll dance? Clear the table.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154026"/>(The pianola with changing lights plays in waltz time the prelude
<lb n="154027"/>of <title type="song">My Girl's a Yorkshire Girl</title>. Stephen throws his ashplant on the
<lb n="154028"/>table and seizes Zoe round the waist. Florry and Bella push the
<lb n="154029"/>table towards the fireplace. Stephen, arming Zoe with exaggerated
<lb n="154030"/>grace, begins to waltz her round the room. Bloom stands aside. Her
<lb n="154031"/>sleeve falling from gracing arms reveals a white fleshflower of
<lb n="154032"/>vaccination. Between the curtains Professor Maginni inserts a leg
<lb n="154033"/>on the toepoint of which spins a silk hat. With a deft kick he sends it
<lb n="154034"/>spinning to his crown and jauntyhatted skates in. He wears a slate
<lb n="154035"/>frockcoat with claret silk lapels, a gorget of cream tulle, a green
<lb n="154036"/>lowcut waistcoat, stock collar with white kerchief, tight lavender
<lb n="154037"/>trousers, patent pumps and canary gloves. In his buttonhole is an
<lb n="154038"/>immense dahlia. He twirls in reversed directions a clouded cane,
<lb n="154039"/>then wedges it tight in his oxter. He places a hand lightly on his
<lb n="154040"/>breastbone, bows, and fondles his flower and buttons.)</stage>
<sp who="djm"><speaker><lb n="154041"/>Maginni</speaker>
<p><lb n="154042"/>The poetry of motion, art of calisthenics. No connection with Madam
<lb n="154043"/>Legget Byrne's or Levenston's. Fancy dress balls arranged. Deportment.
<lb n="154044"/>The Katty Lanner step. So. Watch me! My terpsichorean abilities. <stage>(he
<lb n="154045"/>minuets forward three paces on tripping bee's feet)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="fr">Tout le monde en
<lb n="154046"/>avant! Révérence! Tout le monde en place!</foreign></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154047"/>(The prelude ceases. Professor Goodwin, beating vague arms,
<lb n="154048"/>shrivels, sinks, his live cape falling about the stool. The air in firmer
<lb n="154049"/>waltz time sounds. Stephen and Zoe circle freely. The lights
<lb n="154050"/>change, glow, fade gold rosy violet.)</stage>
<sp who="The Pianola"><speaker><lb n="154051"/>The Pianola</speaker>
<p><lb n="154052"/>Two young fellows were talking about their girls, girls, girls,
<lb n="154053"/>Sweethearts they'd left behind ......</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154054"/>(From a corner the morning hours run out, goldhaired,
<lb n="154055"/>slimsandalled, in girlish blue, waspwaisted, with innocent hands.
<lb n="154056"/>Nimbly they dance, twirling their skipping ropes. The hours of
<lb n="154057"/>noon follow in amber gold. Laughing, linked, high haircombs
<lb n="154058"/>flashing, they catch the sun in mocking mirrors, lifting their arms.)</stage>
<sp who="djm"><speaker><lb n="154059"/>Maginni</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154060"/>(clipclaps glovesilent hands)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="fr">Carré! Avant deux!</foreign> Breathe evenly! <foreign xml:lang="fr">Balancé!</foreign></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154061"/>(The morning and noon hours waltz in their places, turning,
<lb n="154062"/>advancing to each other, shaping their curves, bowing visavis.
<lb n="154063"/>Cavaliers behind them arch and suspend their arms, with hands
<lb n="154064"/>descending to, touching, rising from their shoulders.)</stage>
<sp who="Hours"><speaker><lb n="154065"/>Hours</speaker>
<p><lb n="154066"/>You may touch my.</p></sp>
<sp who="Cavaliers"><speaker><lb n="154067"/>Cavaliers</speaker>
<p><lb n="154068"/>May I touch your?</p></sp>
<sp who="Hours"><speaker><lb n="154069"/>Hours</speaker>
<p><lb n="154070"/>O, but lightly!</p></sp>
<sp who="Cavaliers"><speaker><lb n="154071"/>Cavaliers</speaker>
<p><lb n="154072"/>O, so lightly!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Pianola"><speaker><lb n="154073"/>The Pianola</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="154074"/><l>My little shy little lass has a waist.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<stage><lb n="154075"/>(Zoe and Stephen turn boldly with looser swing. The twilight hours
<lb n="154076"/>advance from long landshadows, dispersed, lagging, languideyed,
<lb n="154077"/>their cheeks delicate with cipria and false faint bloom. They are in
<lb n="154078"/>grey gauze with dark bat sleeves that flutter in the landbreeze.)</stage>
<sp who="djm"><speaker><lb n="154079"/>Maginni</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="fr"><lb n="154080"/>Avant huit! Traversé! Salut! Cours de mains! Croisé!</foreign></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154081"/>(The night hours, one by one, steal to the last place. Morning, noon
<lb n="154082"/>and twilight hours retreat before them. They are masked, with
<lb n="154083"/>daggered hair and bracelets of dull bells. Weary they curchycurchy
<lb n="154084"/>under veils.)</stage>
<sp who="The Bracelets"><speaker><lb n="154085"/>The Bracelets</speaker>
<p><lb n="154086"/>Heigho! Heigho!</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="154087"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154088"/>(twirling, her hand to her brow)</stage> O!</p></sp>
<sp who="djm"><speaker><lb n="154089"/>Maginni</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="fr"><lb n="154090"/>Les tiroirs! Chaîne de dames! La corbeille! Dos à dos!</foreign></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154091"/>(Arabesquing wearily they weave a pattern on the floor, weaving,
<lb n="154092"/>unweaving, curtseying, twirling, simply swirling.)</stage>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="154093"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="154094"/>I'm giddy!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154095"/>(She frees herself, droops on a chair. Stephen seizes Florry and
<lb n="154096"/>turns with her.)</stage>
<sp who="djm"><speaker><lb n="154097"/>Maginni</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="fr"><lb n="154098"/>Boulangère! Les ronds! Les ponts! Chevaux de bois! Escargots!</foreign></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154099"/>(Twining, receding, with interchanging hands the night hours link
<lb n="154100"/>each each with arching arms in a mosaic of movements. Stephen
<lb n="154101"/>and Florry turn cumbrously.)</stage>
<sp who="djm"><speaker><lb n="154102"/>Maginni</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="fr"><lb n="154103"/>Dansez avec vos dames! Changez de dames! Donnez le petit bouquet à votre
<lb n="154104"/>dame! Remerciez!</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="The Pianola"><speaker><lb n="154105"/>The Pianola</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="154106"/><l>Best, best of all,</l>
<lb n="154107"/><l>Baraabum!</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="kr"><speaker><lb n="154108"/>Kitty</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154109"/>(jumps up)</stage> O, they played that on the hobbyhorses at the <emph>Mirus</emph> bazaar!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154110"/>(She runs to Stephen. He leaves Florry brusquely and seizes
<lb n="154111"/>Kitty. A screaming bittern's harsh high whistle shrieks.
<lb n="154112"/>Groangrousegurgling Toft's cumbersome whirligig turns slowly the
<lb n="154113"/>room right roundabout the room.)</stage>
<sp who="The Pianola"><speaker><lb n="154114"/>The Pianola</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="154115"/><l>My girl's a Yorkshire girl.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="154116"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><lb n="154117"/>Yorkshire through and through. Come on all!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154118"/>(She seizes Florry and waltzes her.)</stage>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154119"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="fr"><lb n="154120"/>Pas seul!</foreign></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154121"/>(He wheels Kitty into Lynch's arms, snatches up his ashplant from
<lb n="154122"/>the table and takes the floor. All wheel whirl waltz twirl Bloombella
<lb n="154123"/>Kittylynch Florryzoe jujuby women. Stephen with hat ashplant
<lb n="154124"/>frogsplits in middle highkicks with skykicking mouth shut hand
<lb n="154125"/>clasp part under thigh. With clang tinkle boomhammer tallyho
<lb n="154126"/>hornblower blue green yellow flashes Toft's cumbersome turns with
<lb n="154127"/>hobbyhorse riders from gilded snakes dangled, bowels fandango
<lb n="154128"/>leaping spurn soil foot and fall again.)</stage>
<sp who="The Pianola"><speaker><lb n="154129"/>The Pianola</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="154130"/><l>Though she's a factory lass</l>
<lb n="154131"/><l>And wears no fancy clothes.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<stage><lb n="154132"/>(Closeclutched swift swifter with glareblareflare scudding they
<lb n="154133"/>scootlootshoot lumbering by. Baraabum!)</stage>
<sp who="Tutti"><speaker><lb n="154134"/>Tutti</speaker>
<p><lb n="154135"/>Encore! Bis! Bravo! Encore!</p></sp>
<sp who="sid"><speaker><lb n="154136"/>Simon</speaker>
<p><lb n="154137"/>Think of your mother's people!</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154138"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="154139"/>Dance of death.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154140"/>(Bang fresh barang bang of lacquey's bell, horse, nag, steer,
<lb n="154141"/>piglings, Conmee on Christass, lame crutch and leg sailor in
<lb n="154142"/>cockboat armfolded ropepulling hitching stamp hornpipe through
<lb n="154143"/>and through. Baraabum! On nags hogs bellhorses Gadarene swine
<lb n="154144"/>Corny in coffin steel shark stone onehandled Nelson two trickies
<lb n="154145"/>Frauenzimmer plumstained from pram falling bawling. Gum he's a
<lb n="154146"/>champion. Fuseblue peer from barrel rev. evensong Love on
<lb n="154147"/>hackney jaunt Blazes blind coddoubled bicyclers Dilly with
<lb n="154148"/>snowcake no fancy clothes. Then in last switchback lumbering up
<lb n="154149"/>and down bump mashtub sort of viceroy and reine relish for
<lb n="154150"/>tublumber bumpshire rose. Baraabum!</stage>
<stage><lb n="154151"/>The couples fall aside. Stephen whirls giddily. Room whirls back.
<lb n="154152"/>Eyes closed he totters. Red rails fly spacewards. Stars all around
<lb n="154153"/>suns turn roundabout. Bright midges dance on walls. He stops
<lb n="154154"/>dead.)</stage>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154155"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="154156"/>Ho!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154157"/>(Stephen's mother, emaciated, rises stark through the floor, in leper
<lb n="154158"/>grey with a wreath of faded orangeblossoms and a torn bridal veil,
<lb n="154159"/>her face worn and noseless, green with gravemould. Her hair is
<lb n="154160"/>scant and lank. She fixes her bluecircled hollow eyesockets on
<lb n="154161"/>Stephen and opens her toothless mouth uttering a silent word. A
<lb n="154162"/>choir of virgins and confessors sing voicelessly.)</stage>
<sp who="uchs"><speaker><lb n="154163"/>The Choir</speaker>
<quote xml:lang="la" rend="none"><lg><lb n="154164"/><l>Liliata rutilantium te confessorum ....</l>
<lb n="154165"/><l>Iubilantium te virginum .....</l></lg></quote></sp>
<stage><lb n="154166"/>(From the top of a tower Buck Mulligan, in particoloured jester's
<lb n="154167"/>dress of puce and yellow and clown's cap with curling bell, stands
<lb n="154168"/>gaping at her, a smoking buttered split scone in his hand.)</stage>
<sp who="bm"><speaker><lb n="154169"/>Buck Mulligan</speaker>
<p><lb n="154170"/>She's beastly dead. The pity of it! Mulligan meets the afflicted mother. <stage>(he
<lb n="154171"/>upturns his eyes)</stage> Mercurial Malachi!</p></sp>
<sp who="mad"><speaker><lb n="154172"/>The Mother</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154173"/>(with the subtle smile of death's madness)</stage> I was once the beautiful May
<lb n="154174"/>Goulding. I am dead.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154175"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154176"/>(horrorstruck)</stage> Lemur, who are you? No. What bogeyman's trick is this?</p></sp>
<sp who="bm"><speaker><lb n="154177"/>Buck Mulligan</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154178"/>(shakes his curling capbell)</stage> The mockery of it! Kinch dogsbody killed her
<lb n="154179"/>bitchbody. She kicked the bucket. <stage>(tears of molten butter fall from his eyes
<lb n="154180"/>on to the scone)</stage> Our great sweet mother! <foreign xml:lang="grc-Latn">Epi oinopa ponton.</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="mad"><speaker><lb n="154181"/>The Mother</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154182"/>(comes nearer, breathing upon him softly her breath of wetted ashes)</stage> All
<lb n="154183"/>must go through it, Stephen. More women than men in the world. You too.
<lb n="154184"/>Time will come.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154185"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154186"/>(choking with fright, remorse and horror)</stage> They say I killed you, mother.
<lb n="154187"/>He offended your memory. Cancer did it, not I. Destiny.</p></sp>
<sp who="mad"><speaker><lb n="154188"/>The Mother</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154189"/>(a green rill of bile trickling from a side of her mouth)</stage> You sang that song
<lb n="154190"/>to me. <emph>Love's bitter mystery.</emph></p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154191"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154192"/>(eagerly)</stage> Tell me the word, mother, if you know now. The word known to
<lb n="154193"/>all men.</p></sp>
<sp who="mad"><speaker><lb n="154194"/>The Mother</speaker>
<p><lb n="154195"/>Who saved you the night you jumped into the train at Dalkey with Paddy
<lb n="154196"/>Lee? Who had pity for you when you were sad among the strangers?
<lb n="154197"/>Prayer is allpowerful. Prayer for the suffering souls in the Ursuline manual
<lb n="154198"/>and forty days' indulgence. Repent, Stephen.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154199"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="154200"/>The ghoul! Hyena!</p></sp>
<sp who="mad"><speaker><lb n="154201"/>The Mother</speaker>
<p><lb n="154202"/>I pray for you in my other world. Get Dilly to make you that boiled rice
<lb n="154203"/>every night after your brainwork. Years and years I loved you, O, my son,
<lb n="154204"/>my firstborn, when you lay in my womb.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="154205"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154206"/>(fanning herself with the gratefan)</stage> I'm melting!</p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="154207"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154208"/>(points to Stephen)</stage> Look! He's white.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154209"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154210"/>(goes to the window to open it more)</stage> Giddy.</p></sp>
<sp who="mad"><speaker><lb n="154211"/>The Mother</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154212"/>(with smouldering eyes)</stage> Repent! O, the fire of hell!</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154213"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154214"/>(panting)</stage> His noncorrosive sublimate! The corpsechewer! Raw head and
<lb n="154215"/>bloody bones.</p></sp>
<sp who="mad"><speaker><lb n="154216"/>The Mother</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154217"/>(her face drawing near and nearer, sending out an ashen breath)</stage> Beware!
<stage><lb n="154218"/>(she raises her blackened withered right arm slowly towards Stephen's
<lb n="154219"/>breast with outstretched finger)</stage> Beware God's hand!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154220"/>(A green crab with malignant red eyes sticks deep its grinning claws
<lb n="154221"/>in Stephen's heart.)</stage>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154222"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154223"/>(strangled with rage, his features drawn grey and old)</stage> Shite!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154224"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154225"/>(at the window)</stage> What?</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154226"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="fr"><lb n="154227"/>Ah non, par exemple!</foreign> The intellectual imagination! With me all or not at
<lb n="154228"/>all. <foreign xml:lang="la">Non serviam!</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="154229"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><lb n="154230"/>Give him some cold water. Wait. <stage>(she rushes out)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="mad"><speaker><lb n="154231"/>The Mother</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154232"/>(wrings her hands slowly, moaning desperately)</stage> O Sacred Heart of Jesus,
<lb n="154233"/>have mercy on him! Save him from hell, O Divine Sacred Heart!</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154234"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="154235"/>No! No! No! Break my spirit, all of you, if you can! I'll bring you all to
<lb n="154236"/>heel!</p></sp>
<sp who="mad"><speaker><lb n="154237"/>The Mother</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154238"/>(in the agony of her deathrattle)</stage> Have mercy on Stephen, Lord, for my
<lb n="154239"/>sake! Inexpressible was my anguish when expiring with love, grief and
<lb n="154240"/>agony on Mount Calvary.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154241"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><emph><lb n="154242"/>Nothung!</emph></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154243"/>(He lifts his ashplant high with both hands and smashes the
<lb n="154244"/>chandelier. Time's livid final flame leaps and, in the following
<lb n="154245"/>darkness, ruin of all space, shattered glass and toppling masonry.)</stage>
<sp who="The Gasjet"><speaker><lb n="154246"/>The Gasjet</speaker>
<p><lb n="154247"/>Pwfungg!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154248"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="154249"/>Stop!</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="154250"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154251"/>(rushes forward and seizes Stephen's hand)</stage> Here! Hold on! Don't run
<lb n="154252"/>amok!</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="154253"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><lb n="154254"/>Police!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154255"/>(Stephen, abandoning his ashplant, his head and arms thrown back
<lb n="154256"/>stark, beats the ground and flies from the room, past the whores at
<lb n="154257"/>the door.)</stage>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="154258"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154259"/>(screams)</stage> After him!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154260"/>(The two whores rush to the halldoor. Lynch and Kitty and Zoe
<lb n="154261"/>stampede from the room. They talk excitedly. Bloom follows,
<lb n="154262"/>returns.)</stage>
<sp who="Zoe Higgins AND Kitty Ricketts"><speaker><lb n="154263"/>The Whores</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154264"/>(jammed in the doorway, pointing)</stage> Down there.</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="154265"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154266"/>(pointing)</stage> There. There's something up.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="154267"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><lb n="154268"/>Who pays for the lamp? <stage>(she seizes Bloom's coattail)</stage> Here, you were with
<lb n="154269"/>him. The lamp's broken.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154270"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154271"/>(rushes to the hall, rushes back)</stage> What lamp, woman?</p></sp>
<sp who="A Whore"><speaker><lb n="154272"/>A Whore</speaker>
<p><lb n="154273"/>He tore his coat.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="154274"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154275"/>(her eyes hard with anger and cupidity, points)</stage> Who's to pay for that? Ten
<lb n="154276"/>shillings. You're a witness.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154277"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154278"/>(snatches up Stephen's ashplant)</stage> Me? Ten shillings? Haven't you lifted
<lb n="154279"/>enough off him? Didn't he ....?</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="154280"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154281"/>(loudly)</stage> Here, none of your tall talk. This isn't a brothel. A tenshilling
<lb n="154282"/>house.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154283"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154284"/>(His head under the lamp, pulls the chain. Puling, the gasjet lights up a
<lb n="154285"/>crushed mauve purple shade. He raises the ashplant.)</stage> Only the chimney's
<lb n="154286"/>broken. Here is all he ....</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="154287"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154288"/>(shrinks back and screams)</stage> Jesus! Don't!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154289"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154290"/>(warding off a blow)</stage> To show you how he hit the paper. There's not
<lb n="154291"/>sixpenceworth of damage done. Ten shillings!</p></sp>
<sp who="ft"><speaker><lb n="154292"/>Florry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154293"/>(with a glass of water, enters)</stage> Where is he?</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="154294"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><lb n="154295"/>Do you want me to call the police?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154296"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="154297"/>O, I know. Bulldog on the premises. But he's a Trinity student. Patrons of
<lb n="154298"/>your establishment. Gentlemen that pay the rent. <stage>(he makes a masonic
<lb n="154299"/>sign)</stage> Know what I mean? Nephew of the vicechancellor. You don't want a
<lb n="154300"/>scandal.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="154301"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154302"/>(angrily)</stage> Trinity. Coming down here ragging after the boatraces and
<lb n="154303"/>paying nothing. Are you my commander here or? Where is he? I'll charge
<lb n="154304"/>him! Disgrace him, I will! <stage>(she shouts)</stage> Zoe! Zoe!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154305"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154306"/>(urgently)</stage> And if it were your own son in Oxford? <stage>(warningly)</stage> I know.</p></sp>
<sp who="bc"><speaker><lb n="154307"/>Bella</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154308"/>(almost speechless)</stage> Who are. Incog!</p></sp>
<sp who="zh"><speaker><lb n="154309"/>Zoe</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154310"/>(in the doorway)</stage> There's a row on.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154311"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="154312"/>What? Where? <stage>(he throws a shilling on the table and starts)</stage> That's for the
<lb n="154313"/>chimney. Where? I need mountain air.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154314"/>(He hurries out through the hall. The whores point. Florry follows,
<lb n="154315"/>spilling water from her tilted tumbler. On the doorstep all the
<lb n="154316"/>whores clustered talk volubly, pointing to the right where the fog
<lb n="154317"/>has cleared off. From the left arrives a jingling hackney car. It slows
<lb n="154318"/>to in front of the house. Bloom at the halldoor perceives Corny
<lb n="154319"/>Kelleher who is about to dismount from the car with two silent
<lb n="154320"/>lechers. He averts his face. Bella from within the hall urges on her
<lb n="154321"/>whores. They blow ickylickysticky yumyum kisses. Corny Kelleher
<lb n="154322"/>replies with a ghastly lewd smile. The silent lechers turn to pay the
<lb n="154323"/>jarvey. Zoe and Kitty still point right. Bloom, parting them swiftly,
<lb n="154324"/>draws his caliph's hood and poncho and hurries down the steps
<lb n="154325"/>with sideways face. Incog Haroun Al Raschid he flits behind the
<lb n="154326"/>silent lechers and hastens on by the railings with fleet step of a pard
<lb n="154327"/>strewing the drag behind him, torn envelopes drenched in aniseed.
<lb n="154328"/>The ashplant marks his stride. A pack of bloodhounds, led by
<lb n="154329"/>Hornblower of Trinity brandishing a dogwhip in tallyho cap and
<lb n="154330"/>an old pair of grey trousers, follow from far, picking up the scent,
<lb n="154331"/>nearer, baying, panting, at fault, breaking away, throwing their
<lb n="154332"/>tongues, biting his heels, leaping at his tail. He walks, runs, zigzags,
<lb n="154333"/>gallops, lugs laid back. He is pelted with gravel, cabbagestumps,
<lb n="154334"/>biscuitboxes, eggs, potatoes, dead codfish, woman's slipperslappers.
<lb n="154335"/>After him freshfound the hue and cry zigzag gallops in hot pursuit
<lb n="154336"/>of follow my leader: 65 C, 66 C, night watch, John Henry Menton,
<lb n="154337"/>Wisdom Hely, V B Dillon, Councillor Nannetti, Alexander Keyes,
<lb n="154338"/>Larry O'Rourke, Joe Cuffe, Mrs O'Dowd, Pisser Burke, the
<lb n="154339"/>Nameless One, Mrs Riordan, the Citizen, Garryowen,
<lb n="154340"/>Whodoyoucallhim, Strangeface, Fellowthatsolike, Sawhimbefore,
<lb n="154341"/>Chapwithawen, Chris Callinan, sir Charles Cameron, Benjamin
<lb n="154342"/>Dollard, Lenehan, Bartell d'Arcy, Joe Hynes, red Murray, editor
<lb n="154343"/>Brayden, T. M. Healy, Mr Justice Fitzgibbon, John Howard
<lb n="154344"/>Parnell, the reverend Tinned Salmon, Professor Joly, Mrs Breen,
<lb n="154345"/>Denis Breen, Theodore Purefoy, Mina Purefoy, the Westland Row
<lb n="154346"/>postmistress, C. P. M'Coy, friend of Lyons, Hoppy Holohan,
<lb n="154347"/>maninthestreet, othermaninthestreet, Footballboots, pugnosed
<lb n="154348"/>driver, rich protestant lady, Davy Byrne, Mrs Ellen M'Guinness,
<lb n="154349"/>Mrs Joe Gallaher, George Lidwell, Jimmy Henry on corns,
<lb n="154350"/>superintendent Laracy, Father Cowley, Crofton out of the
<lb n="154351"/>Collector-general's, Dan Dawson, dental surgeon Bloom with
<lb n="154352"/>tweezers, Mrs Bob Doran, Mrs Kennefick, Mrs Wyse Nolan, John
<lb n="154353"/>Wyse Nolan, handsomemarriedwomanrubbedagainstwidebehind-
<lb n="154354"/>inClonskeatram, the bookseller of <title type="book">Sweets of Sin</title>, Miss
<lb n="154355"/>Dubedatandshedidbedad, Mesdames Gerald and Stanislaus Moran
<lb n="154356"/>of Roebuck, the managing clerk of Drimmie's, Wetherup, colonel
<lb n="154357"/>Hayes, Mastiansky, Citron, Penrose, Aaron Figatner, Moses
<lb n="154358"/>Herzog, Michael E Geraghty, Inspector Troy, Mrs Galbraith, the
<lb n="154359"/>constable off Eccles street corner, old doctor Brady with
<lb n="154360"/>stethoscope, the mystery man on the beach, a retriever, Mrs Miriam
<lb n="154361"/>Dandrade and all her lovers.)</stage>
<sp who="The Hue and Cry"><speaker><lb n="154362"/>The Hue and Cry</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154363"/>(helterskelterpelterwelter)</stage> He's Bloom! Stop Bloom! Stopabloom!
<lb n="154364"/>Stopperrobber! Hi! Hi! Stophim on the corner!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154365"/>(At the corner of Beaver street beneath the scaffolding Bloom
<lb n="154366"/>panting stops on the fringe of the noisy quarrelling knot, a lot not
<lb n="154367"/>knowing a jot what hi! hi! row and wrangle round the whowhat
<lb n="154368"/>brawlaltogether.)</stage>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154369"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154370"/>(with elaborate gestures, breathing deeply and slowly)</stage> You are my guests.
<lb n="154371"/>Uninvited. By virtue of the fifth of George and seventh of Edward. History
<lb n="154372"/>to blame. Fabled by mothers of memory.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="154373"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154374"/>(to Cissy Caffrey)</stage> Was he insulting you?</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154375"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="154376"/>Addressed her in vocative feminine. Probably neuter. Ungenitive.</p></sp>
<sp who="Voices"><speaker><lb n="154377"/>Voices</speaker>
<p><lb n="154378"/>No, he didn't. I seen him. The girl there. He was in Mrs Cohen's. What's
<lb n="154379"/>up? Soldier and civilian.</p></sp>
<sp who="ccaff"><speaker><lb n="154380"/>Cissy Caffrey</speaker>
<p><lb n="154381"/>I was in company with the soldiers and they left me to do, you know, and
<lb n="154382"/>the young man run up behind me. But I'm faithful to the man that's treating
<lb n="154383"/>me though I'm only a shilling whore.</p></sp>
<sp who="Voices"><speaker><lb n="154384"/>Voices</speaker>
<p><lb n="154385"/>Shesfaithfultheman.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154386"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154387"/>(catches sight of Lynch's and Kitty's heads)</stage> Hail, Sisyphus. <stage>(he points to
<lb n="154388"/>himself and the others)</stage> Poetic. Uropoetic.</p></sp>
<sp who="ccaff"><speaker><lb n="154389"/>Cissy Caffrey</speaker>
<p><lb n="154390"/>Yes, to go with him. And me with a soldier friend.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Compton"><speaker><lb n="154391"/>Private Compton</speaker>
<p><lb n="154392"/>He doesn't half want a thick ear, the blighter. Biff him one, Harry.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="154393"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154394"/>(to Cissy)</stage> Was he insulting you while me and him was having a piss?</p></sp>
<sp who="Lord Tennyson"><speaker><lb n="154395"/>Lord Tennyson</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154396"/>(gentleman poet in Union Jack blazer and cricket flannels, bareheaded,
<lb n="154397"/>flowingbearded)</stage> Theirs not to reason why.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Compton"><speaker><lb n="154398"/>Private Compton</speaker>
<p><lb n="154399"/>Biff him, Harry.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154400"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154401"/>(to Private Compton)</stage> I don't know your name but you are quite right.
<lb n="154402"/>Doctor Swift says one man in armour will beat ten men in their shirts. Shirt
<lb n="154403"/>is synechdoche. Part for the whole.</p></sp>
<sp who="ccaff"><speaker><lb n="154404"/>Cissy Caffrey</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154405"/>(to the crowd)</stage> No, I was with the privates.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154406"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154407"/>(amiably)</stage> Why not? The bold soldier boy. In my opinion every lady for
<lb n="154408"/>example .....</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="154409"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154410"/>(his cap awry, advances to Stephen)</stage> Say, how would it be, governor, if I
<lb n="154411"/>was to bash in your jaw?</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154412"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154413"/>(looks up to the sky)</stage> How? Very unpleasant. Noble art of selfpretence.
<lb n="154414"/>Personally, I detest action. <stage>(he waves his hand)</stage> Hand hurts me slightly.
<foreign xml:lang="fr"><lb n="154415"/>Enfin ce sont vos oignons.</foreign> <stage>(to Cissy Caffrey)</stage> Some trouble is on here.
<lb n="154416"/>What is it precisely?</p></sp>
<sp who="Dolly Gray"><speaker><lb n="154417"/>Dolly Gray</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154418"/>(from her balcony waves her handkerchief, giving the sign of the heroine of
<lb n="154419"/>Jericho)</stage> Rahab. Cook's son, goodbye. Safe home to Dolly. Dream of the
<lb n="154420"/>girl you left behind and she will dream of you.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154421"/>(The soldiers turn their swimming eyes.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154422"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154423"/>(elbowing through the crowd, plucks Stephen's sleeve vigorously)</stage> Come
<lb n="154424"/>now, professor, that carman is waiting.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154425"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154426"/>(turns)</stage> Eh? <stage>(he disengages himself)</stage> Why should I not speak to him or to
<lb n="154427"/>any human being who walks upright upon this oblate orange? <stage>(he points
<lb n="154428"/>his finger)</stage> I'm not afraid of what I can talk to if I see his eye. Retaining the
<lb n="154429"/>perpendicular. <stage>(he staggers a pace back)</stage></p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154430"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154431"/>(propping him)</stage> Retain your own.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154432"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154433"/>(laughs emptily)</stage> My centre of gravity is displaced. I have forgotten the
<lb n="154434"/>trick. Let us sit down somewhere and discuss. Struggle for life is the law of
<lb n="154435"/>existence but but human <distinct xml:id="#154435-philirenists">philirenists</distinct>, notably the tsar and the king of
<lb n="154436"/>England, have invented arbitration. <stage>(he taps his brow)</stage> But in here it is I
<lb n="154437"/>must kill the priest and the king.</p></sp>
<sp who="Biddy the Clap"><speaker><lb n="154438"/>Biddy the Clap</speaker>
<p><lb n="154439"/>Did you hear what the professor said? He's a professor out of the college.</p></sp>
<sp who="Cunty Kate"><speaker><lb n="154440"/>Cunty Kate</speaker>
<p><lb n="154441"/>I did. I heard that.</p></sp>
<sp who="Biddy the Clap"><speaker><lb n="154442"/>Biddy the Clap</speaker>
<p><lb n="154443"/>He expresses himself with such marked refinement of phraseology.</p></sp>
<sp who="Cunty Kate"><speaker><lb n="154444"/>Cunty Kate</speaker>
<p><lb n="154445"/>Indeed, yes. And at the same time with such apposite trenchancy.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="154446"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154447"/>(pulls himself free and comes forward)</stage> What's that you're saying about
<lb n="154448"/>my king?</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154449"/>(Edward the Seventh appears in an archway. He wears a white
<lb n="154450"/>jersey on which an image of the Sacred Heart is stitched with the
<lb n="154451"/>insignia of Garter and Thistle, Golden Fleece, Elephant of
<lb n="154452"/>Denmark, Skinner's and Probyn's horse, Lincoln's Inn bencher
<lb n="154453"/>and ancient and honourable artillery company of Massachusetts.
<lb n="154454"/>He sucks a red jujube. He is robed as a grand elect perfect and
<lb n="154455"/>sublime mason with trowel and apron, marked <emph>made in Germany</emph>.
<lb n="154456"/>In his left hand he holds a plasterer's bucket on which is printed
<foreign xml:lang="fr"><lb n="154457"/>Défense d'uriner</foreign>. A roar of welcome greets him.)</stage>
<sp who="Edward the Seventh"><speaker><lb n="154458"/>Edward the Seventh</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154459"/>(slowly, solemnly but indistinctly)</stage> Peace, perfect peace. For identification,
<lb n="154460"/>bucket in my hand. Cheerio, boys. <stage>(he turns to his subjects)</stage> We have come
<lb n="154461"/>here to witness a clean straight fight and we heartily wish both men the best
<lb n="154462"/>of good luck. Mahak makar a bak. <stage>(he shakes hands with Private Carr,
<lb n="154463"/>Private Compton, Stephen, Bloom and Lynch)</stage></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154464"/>(General applause. Edward the Seventh lifts his bucket graciously
<lb n="154465"/>in acknowledgment.)</stage>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="154466"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154467"/>(to Stephen)</stage> Say it again.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154468"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154469"/>(nervous, friendly, pulls himself up)</stage> I understand your point of view
<lb n="154470"/>though I have no king myself for the moment. This is the age of patent
<lb n="154471"/>medicines. A discussion is difficult down here. But this is the point. You die
<lb n="154472"/>for your country. Suppose. <stage>(he places his arm on Private Carr's sleeve)</stage>
<lb n="154473"/>Not that I wish it for you. But I say: Let my country die for me. Up to the
<lb n="154474"/>present it has done so. I didn't want it to die. Damn death. Long live life!</p></sp>
<sp who="Edward the Seventh"><speaker><lb n="154475"/>Edward the Seventh</speaker>
<stage><lb n="154476"/>(levitates over heaps of slain, in the garb and with the halo of Joking Jesus,
<lb n="154477"/>a white jujube in his phosphorescent face)</stage>
<quote><lg><lb n="154478"/><l>My methods are new and are causing surprise.</l>
<lb n="154479"/><l>To make the blind see I throw dust in their eyes.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154480"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="154481"/>Kings and unicorns! <stage>(he falls back a pace)</stage> Come somewhere and we'll ...
<lb n="154482"/>What was that girl saying ...?</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Compton"><speaker><lb n="154483"/>Private Compton</speaker>
<p><lb n="154484"/>Eh, Harry, give him a kick in the knackers. Stick one into Jerry.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154485"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154486"/>(to the privates, softly)</stage> He doesn't know what he's saying. Taken a little
<lb n="154487"/>more than is good for him. Absinthe. Greeneyed monster. I know him.
<lb n="154488"/>He's a gentleman, a poet. It's all right.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154489"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154490"/>(nods, smiling and laughing)</stage> Gentleman, patriot, scholar and judge of
<lb n="154491"/>impostors.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="154492"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><lb n="154493"/>I don't give a bugger who he is.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Compton"><speaker><lb n="154494"/>Private Compton</speaker>
<p><lb n="154495"/>We don't give a bugger who he is.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154496"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="154497"/>I seem to annoy them. Green rag to a bull.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154498"/>(Kevin Egan of Paris in black Spanish tasselled shirt and
<lb n="154499"/>peep-o'-day boy's hat signs to Stephen.)</stage>
<sp who="ke"><speaker><lb n="154500"/>Kevin Egan</speaker>
<p><lb n="154501"/>H'lo! <foreign xml:lang="fr">Bonjour!</foreign> The <foreign xml:lang="fr">vieille ogresse</foreign> with the <foreign xml:lang="fr">dents jaunes</foreign>.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154502"/>(Patrice Egan peeps from behind, his rabbitface nibbling a quince
<lb n="154503"/>leaf.)</stage>
<sp who="pe"><speaker><lb n="154504"/>Patrice</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="fr"><lb n="154505"/>Socialiste!</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="Don Emile Patrizio Franz Rupert Pope Hennessy"><speaker><lb n="154506"/>Don Emile Patrizio Franz Rupert Pope Hennessy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154507"/>(in medieval hauberk, two wild geese volant on his helm, with noble
<lb n="154508"/>indignation points a mailed hand against the privates)</stage> Werf those eykes to
<lb n="154509"/>footboden, big grand porcos of johnyellows todos covered of gravy!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154510"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154511"/>(to Stephen)</stage> Come home. You'll get into trouble.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154512"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154513"/>(swaying)</stage> I don't avoid it. He provokes my intelligence.</p></sp>
<sp who="Biddy the Clap"><speaker><lb n="154514"/>Biddy the Clap</speaker>
<p><lb n="154515"/>One immediately observes that he is of patrician lineage.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Virago"><speaker><lb n="154516"/>The Virago</speaker>
<p><lb n="154517"/>Green above the red, says he. Wolfe Tone.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Bawd"><speaker><lb n="154518"/>The Bawd</speaker>
<p><lb n="154519"/>The red's as good as the green. And better. Up the soldiers! Up King
<lb n="154520"/>Edward!</p></sp>
<sp who="A Rough"><speaker><lb n="154521"/>A Rough</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154522"/>(laughs)</stage> Ay! Hands up to De Wet.</p></sp>
<sp who="tc"><speaker><lb n="154523"/>The Citizen</speaker>
<stage><lb n="154524"/>(with a huge emerald muffler and shillelagh, calls)</stage>
<quote><lg><lb n="154525"/><l>May the God above</l>
<lb n="154526"/><l>Send down a dove</l>
<lb n="154527"/><l>With teeth as sharp as razors</l>
<lb n="154528"/><l>To slit the throats</l>
<lb n="154529"/><l>Of the English dogs</l>
<lb n="154530"/><l>That hanged our Irish leaders.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="The Croppy Boy"><speaker><lb n="154531"/>The Croppy Boy</speaker>
<stage><lb n="154532"/>(the ropenoose round his neck, gripes in his issuing bowels with both
<lb n="154533"/>hands)</stage>
<quote><lg><lb n="154534"/><l>I bear no hate to a living thing,</l>
<lb n="154535"/><l>But I love my country beyond the king.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="hr"><speaker><lb n="154536"/>Rumbold, Demon Barber</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154537"/>(accompanied by two blackmasked assistants, advances with gladstone bag
<lb n="154538"/>which he opens)</stage> Ladies and gents, cleaver purchased by Mrs Pearcy to slay
<lb n="154539"/>Mogg. Knife with which Voisin dismembered the wife of a compatriot and
<lb n="154540"/>hid remains in a sheet in the cellar, the unfortunate female's throat being
<lb n="154541"/>cut from ear to ear. Phial containing arsenic retrieved from body of Miss
<lb n="154542"/>Barron which sent Seddon to the gallows.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154543"/>(He jerks the rope. The assistants leap at the victim's legs and drag
<lb n="154544"/>him downward, grunting. The croppy boy's tongue protrudes
<lb n="154545"/>violently.)</stage>
<sp who="The Croppy Boy"><speaker><lb n="154546"/>The Croppy Boy</speaker>
<p><lb n="154547"/>Horhot ho hray hor hother's hest.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154548"/>(He gives up the ghost. A violent erection of the hanged sends gouts
<lb n="154549"/>of sperm spouting through his deathclothes on to the cobblestones.
<lb n="154550"/>Mrs Bellingham, Mrs Yelverton Barry and the Honourable Mrs
<lb n="154551"/>Mervyn Talboys rush forward with their handkerchiefs to sop it
<lb n="154552"/>up.)</stage>
<sp who="hr"><speaker><lb n="154553"/>Rumbold</speaker>
<p><lb n="154554"/>I'm near it myself. <stage>(he undoes the noose)</stage> Rope which hanged the awful
<lb n="154555"/>rebel. Ten shillings a time. As applied to Her Royal Highness. <stage>(he plunges
<lb n="154556"/>his head into the gaping belly of the hanged and draws out his head again
<lb n="154557"/>clotted with coiled and smoking entrails)</stage> My painful duty has now been
<lb n="154558"/>done. God save the king!</p></sp>
<sp who="Edward the Seventh"><speaker><lb n="154559"/>Edward the Seventh</speaker>
<stage><lb n="154560"/>(dances slowly, solemnly, rattling his bucket, and sings with soft
<lb n="154561"/>contentment)</stage>
<quote><lg><lb n="154562"/><l>On coronation day, on coronation day,</l>
<lb n="154563"/><l>O, won't we have a merry time,</l>
<lb n="154564"/><l>Drinking whisky, beer and wine!</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="154565"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><lb n="154566"/>Here. What are you saying about my king?</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154567"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154568"/>(throws up his hands)</stage> O, this is too monotonous! Nothing. He wants my
<lb n="154569"/>money and my life, though want must be his master, for some brutish
<lb n="154570"/>empire of his. Money I haven't. <stage>(he searches his pockets vaguely)</stage> Gave it
<lb n="154571"/>to someone.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="154572"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><lb n="154573"/>Who wants your bleeding money?</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154574"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154575"/>(tries to move off)</stage> Will someone tell me where I am least likely to meet
<lb n="154576"/>these necessary evils? <foreign xml:lang="fr">Ça se voit aussi à Paris.</foreign> Not that I ... But, by saint
<lb n="154577"/>Patrick .....!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154578"/>(The women's heads coalesce. Old Gummy Granny in sugarloaf
<lb n="154579"/>hat appears seated on a toadstool, the deathflower of the potato
<lb n="154580"/>blight on her breast.)</stage>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154581"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="154582"/>Aha! I know you, gammer! Hamlet, revenge! The old sow that eats her
<lb n="154583"/>farrow!</p></sp>
<sp who="Old Gummy Granny"><speaker><lb n="154584"/>Old Gummy Granny</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154585"/>(rocking to and fro)</stage> Ireland's sweetheart, the king of Spain's daughter,
<lb n="154586"/>alanna. Strangers in my house, bad manners to them! <stage>(she keens with
<lb n="154587"/>banshee woe)</stage> Ochone! Ochone! Silk of the kine! <stage>(she wails)</stage> You met with
<lb n="154588"/>poor old Ireland and how does she stand?</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154589"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="154590"/>How do I stand you? The hat trick! Where's the third person of the Blessed
<lb n="154591"/>Trinity? Soggarth Aroon? The reverend Carrion Crow.</p></sp>
<sp who="ccaff"><speaker><lb n="154592"/>Cissy Caffrey</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154593"/>(shrill)</stage> Stop them from fighting!</p></sp>
<sp who="A Rough"><speaker><lb n="154594"/>A Rough</speaker>
<p><lb n="154595"/>Our men retreated.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="154596"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154597"/>(tugging at his belt)</stage> I'll wring the neck of any fucker says a word against
<lb n="154598"/>my fucking king.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154599"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154600"/>(terrified)</stage> He said nothing. Not a word. A pure misunderstanding.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Compton"><speaker><lb n="154601"/>Private Compton</speaker>
<p><lb n="154602"/>Go it, Harry. Do him one in the eye. He's a proBoer.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154603"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="154604"/>Did I? When?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154605"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154606"/>(to the redcoats)</stage> We fought for you in South Africa, Irish missile troops.
<lb n="154607"/>Isn't that history? Royal Dublin Fusiliers. Honoured by our monarch.</p></sp>
<sp who="unav"><speaker><lb n="154608"/>The Navvy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154609"/>(staggering past)</stage> O, yes! O God, yes! O, make the kwawr a krowawr! O!
<lb n="154610"/>Bo!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154611"/>(Casqued halberdiers in armour thrust forward a pentice of gutted
<lb n="154612"/>spearpoints. Major Tweedy, moustached like Turko the terrible, in
<lb n="154613"/>bearskin cap with hackleplume and accoutrements, with epaulettes,
<lb n="154614"/>gilt chevrons and sabretaches, his breast bright with medals, toes
<lb n="154615"/>the line. He gives the pilgrim warrior's sign of the knights
<lb n="154616"/>templars.)</stage>
<sp who="bt"><speaker><lb n="154617"/>Major Tweedy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154618"/>(growls gruffly)</stage> Rorke's Drift! Up, guards, and at them! Mahar shalal
<lb n="154619"/>hashbaz.</p></sp>
<sp who="tc"><speaker><lb n="154620"/>The Citizen</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="ga"><lb n="154621"/>Erin go bragh!</foreign></p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154622"/>(Major Tweedy and the Citizen exhibit to each other medals,
<lb n="154623"/>decorations, trophies of war, wounds. Both salute with fierce
<lb n="154624"/>hostility.)</stage>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="154625"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><lb n="154626"/>I'll do him in.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Compton"><speaker><lb n="154627"/>Private Compton</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154628"/>(moves the crowd back)</stage> Fair play, here. Make a bleeding butcher's shop of
<lb n="154629"/>the bugger.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154630"/>(Massed bands blare <title type="song">Garryowen</title>and <title type="song">God save the king</title>.)</stage>
<sp who="ccaff"><speaker><lb n="154631"/>Cissy Caffrey</speaker>
<p><lb n="154632"/>They're going to fight. For me!</p></sp>
<sp who="Cunty Kate"><speaker><lb n="154633"/>Cunty Kate</speaker>
<p><lb n="154634"/>The brave and the fair.</p></sp>
<sp who="Biddy the Clap"><speaker><lb n="154635"/>Biddy the Clap</speaker>
<p><lb n="154636"/>Methinks yon sable knight will joust it with the best.</p></sp>
<sp who="Cunty Kate"><speaker><lb n="154637"/>Cunty Kate</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154638"/>(blushing deeply)</stage> Nay, madam. The gules doublet and merry saint George
<lb n="154639"/>for me!</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154640"/>Stephen</speaker>
<quote><lg><lb n="154641"/><l>The harlot's cry from street to street</l>
<lb n="154642"/><l>Shall weave Old Ireland's windingsheet.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="154643"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154644"/>(loosening his belt, shouts)</stage> I'll wring the neck of any fucking bastard says
<lb n="154645"/>a word against my bleeding fucking king.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154646"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154647"/>(shakes Cissy Caffrey's shoulders)</stage> Speak, you! Are you struck dumb? You
<lb n="154648"/>are the link between nations and generations. Speak, woman, sacred
<lb n="154649"/>lifegiver!</p></sp>
<sp who="ccaff"><speaker><lb n="154650"/>Cissy Caffrey</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154651"/>(alarmed, seizes Private Carr's sleeve)</stage> Amn't I with you? Amn't I your
<lb n="154652"/>girl? Cissy's your girl. <stage>(she cries)</stage> Police!</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154653"/>Stephen</speaker>
<stage><lb n="154654"/>(ecstatically, to Cissy Caffrey)</stage>
<quote><lg><lb n="154655"/><l>White thy fambles, red thy gan</l>
<lb n="154656"/><l>And thy quarrons dainty is.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="Voices"><speaker><lb n="154657"/>Voices</speaker>
<p><lb n="154658"/>Police!</p></sp>
<sp who="Distant Voices"><speaker><lb n="154659"/>Distant Voices</speaker>
<p><lb n="154660"/>Dublin's burning! Dublin's burning! On fire, on fire!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154661"/>(Brimstone fires spring up. Dense clouds roll past. Heavy Gatling
<lb n="154662"/>guns boom. Pandemonium. Troops deploy. Gallop of hoofs.
<lb n="154663"/>Artillery. Hoarse commands. Bells clang. Backers shout. Drunkards
<lb n="154664"/>bawl. Whores screech. Foghorns hoot. Cries of valour. Shrieks of
<lb n="154665"/>dying. Pikes clash on cuirasses. Thieves rob the slain. Birds of prey,
<lb n="154666"/>winging from the sea, rising from marshlands, swooping from
<lb n="154667"/>eyries, hover screaming, gannets, cormorants, vultures, goshawks,
<lb n="154668"/>climbing woodcocks, peregrines, merlins, blackgrouse, sea eagles,
<lb n="154669"/>gulls, albatrosses, barnacle geese. The midnight sun is darkened.
<lb n="154670"/>The earth trembles. The dead of Dublin from Prospect and Mount
<lb n="154671"/>Jerome in white sheepskin overcoats and black goatfell cloaks arise
<lb n="154672"/>and appear to many. A chasm opens with a noiseless yawn. Tom
<lb n="154673"/>Rochford, winner, in athlete's singlet and breeches, arrives at the
<lb n="154674"/>head of the national hurdle handicap and leaps into the void. He is
<lb n="154675"/>followed by a race of runners and leapers. In wild attitudes they
<lb n="154676"/>spring from the brink. Their bodies plunge. Factory lasses with
<lb n="154677"/>fancy clothes toss redhot Yorkshire baraabombs. Society ladies lift
<lb n="154678"/>their skirts above their heads to protect themselves. Laughing
<lb n="154679"/>witches in red cutty sarks ride through the air on broomsticks.
<lb n="154680"/>Quakerlyster plasters blisters. It rains dragons' teeth. Armed heroes
<lb n="154681"/>spring up from furrows. They exchange in amity the pass of knights
<lb n="154682"/>of the red cross and fight duels with cavalry sabres: Wolfe Tone
<lb n="154683"/>against Henry Grattan, Smith O'Brien against Daniel O'Connell,
<lb n="154684"/>Michael Davitt against Isaac Butt, Justin M'Carthy against Parnell,
<lb n="154685"/>Arthur Griffith against John Redmond, John O'Leary against Lear
<lb n="154686"/>O'Johnny, Lord Edward Fitzgerald against Lord Gerald
<lb n="154687"/>Fitzedward, The O'Donoghue of The Glens against The Glens of
<lb n="154688"/>The O'Donoghue. On an eminence, the centre of the earth, rises the
<lb n="154689"/>fieldaltar of Saint Barbara. Black candles rise from its gospel and
<lb n="154690"/>epistle horns. From the high barbacans of the tower two shafts of
<lb n="154691"/>light fall on the smokepalled altarstone. On the altarstone Mrs Mina
<lb n="154692"/>Purefoy, goddess of unreason, lies, naked, fettered, a chalice resting
<lb n="154693"/>on her swollen belly. Father Malachi O'Flynn in a lace petticoat
<lb n="154694"/>and reversed chasuble, his two left feet back to the front, celebrates
<lb n="154695"/>camp mass. The Reverend Mr Hugh C Haines Love M. A. in a
<lb n="154696"/>plain cassock and mortarboard, his head and collar back to the
<lb n="154697"/>front, holds over the celebrant's head an open umbrella.)</stage>
<sp who="Buck Mulligan AND Father O'Flynn (double figure)"><speaker><lb n="154698"/>Father Malachi O'Flynn</speaker>
<p><foreign xml:lang="la"><lb n="154699"/>Introibo ad altare diaboli.</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="Hugh C. Love AND Haines (double figure)"><speaker><lb n="154700"/>The Reverend Mr Haines Love</speaker>
<p><lb n="154701"/>To the devil which hath made glad my young days.</p></sp>
<sp who="Buck Mulligan AND Father O'Flynn (double figure)"><speaker><lb n="154702"/>Father Malachi O'Flynn</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154703"/>(takes from the chalice and elevates a blooddripping host)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="la">Corpus meum.</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="Hugh C. Love AND Haines (double figure)"><speaker><lb n="154704"/>The Reverend Mr Haines Love</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154705"/>(raises high behind the celebrant's petticoat, revealing his grey bare hairy
<lb n="154706"/>buttocks between which a carrot is stuck)</stage> My body.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Voice of All the Damned"><speaker><lb n="154707"/>The Voice of All the Damned</speaker>
<p><lb n="154708"/>Htengier Tnetopinmo Dog Drol eht rof, Aiulella!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154709"/>(From on high the voice of Adonai calls.)</stage>
<sp who="Adonai"><speaker><lb n="154710"/>Adonai</speaker>
<p><lb n="154711"/>Dooooooooooog!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Voice of All the Blessed"><speaker><lb n="154712"/>The Voice of All the Blessed</speaker>
<p><lb n="154713"/>Alleluia, for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154714"/>(From on high the voice of Adonai calls.)</stage>
<sp who="Adonai"><speaker><lb n="154715"/>Adonai</speaker>
<p><lb n="154716"/>Goooooooooood!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154717"/>(In strident discord peasants and townsmen of Orange and Green
<lb n="154718"/>factions sing <title type="song">Kick the Pope</title> and <title type="song">Daily, daily sing to Mary</title>.)</stage>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="154719"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154720"/>(with ferocious articulation)</stage> I'll do him in, so help me fucking Christ! I'll
<lb n="154721"/>wring the bastard fucker's bleeding blasted fucking windpipe!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154722"/>(The retriever, nosing on the fringe of the crowd, barks noisily.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154723"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154724"/>(runs to Lynch)</stage> Can't you get him away?</p></sp>
<sp who="vl"><speaker><lb n="154725"/>Lynch</speaker>
<p><lb n="154726"/>He likes dialectic, the universal language. Kitty! <stage>(to Bloom)</stage> Get him away,
<lb n="154727"/>you. He won't listen to me.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154728"/>(He drags Kitty away.)</stage>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154729"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154730"/>(points)</stage> <foreign xml:lang="la">Exit Judas. Et laqueo se suspendit.</foreign></p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154731"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154732"/>(runs to Stephen)</stage> Come along with me now before worse happens. Here's
<lb n="154733"/>your stick.</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154734"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="154735"/>Stick, no. Reason. This feast of pure reason.</p></sp>
<sp who="Old Gummy Granny"><speaker><lb n="154736"/>Old Gummy Granny</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154737"/>(thrusts a dagger towards Stephen's hand)</stage> Remove him, acushla. At
<lb n="154738"/>8.35 a.m. you will be in heaven and Ireland will be free. <stage>(she prays)</stage> O
<lb n="154739"/>good God, take him!</p></sp>
<sp who="ccaff"><speaker><lb n="154740"/>Cissy Caffrey</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154741"/>(pulling Private Carr)</stage> Come on, you're boosed. He insulted me but I
<lb n="154742"/>forgive him. <stage>(shouting in his ear)</stage> I forgive him for insulting me.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154743"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154744"/>(over Stephen's shoulder)</stage> Yes, go. You see he's incapable.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="154745"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154746"/>(breaks loose)</stage> I'll insult him.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154747"/>(He rushes towards Stephen, fist outstretched, and strikes him in
<lb n="154748"/>the face. Stephen totters, collapses, falls, stunned. He lies prone, his
<lb n="154749"/>face to the sky, his hat rolling to the wall. Bloom follows and picks it
<lb n="154750"/>up.)</stage>
<sp who="bt"><speaker><lb n="154751"/>Major Tweedy</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154752"/>(loudly)</stage> Carbine in bucket! Cease fire! Salute!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Retriever"><speaker><lb n="154753"/>The Retriever</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154754"/>(barking furiously)</stage> Ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute.</p></sp>
<sp who="The Crowd"><speaker><lb n="154755"/>The Crowd</speaker>
<p><lb n="154756"/>Let him up! Don't strike him when he's down! Air! Who? The soldier hit
<lb n="154757"/>him. He's a professor. Is he hurted? Don't manhandle him! He's fainted!</p></sp>
<sp who="A Hag"><speaker><lb n="154758"/>A Hag</speaker>
<p><lb n="154759"/>What call had the redcoat to strike the gentleman and he under the
<lb n="154760"/>influence. Let them go and fight the Boers!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Bawd"><speaker><lb n="154761"/>The Bawd</speaker>
<p><lb n="154762"/>Listen to who's talking! Hasn't the soldier a right to go with his girl? He
<lb n="154763"/>gave him the coward's blow.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154764"/>(They grab at each other's hair, claw at each other and spit.)</stage>
<sp who="The Retriever"><speaker><lb n="154765"/>The Retriever</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154766"/>(barking)</stage> Wow wow wow.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154767"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154768"/>(shoves them back, loudly)</stage> Get back, stand back!</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Compton"><speaker><lb n="154769"/>Private Compton</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154770"/>(tugging his comrade)</stage> Here. Bugger off, Harry. Here's the cops!</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154771"/>(Two raincaped watch, tall, stand in the group.)</stage>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="154772"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="154773"/>What's wrong here?</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Compton"><speaker><lb n="154774"/>Private Compton</speaker>
<p><lb n="154775"/>We were with this lady. And he insulted us. And assaulted my chum. <stage>(the
<lb n="154776"/>retriever barks)</stage> Who owns the bleeding tyke?</p></sp>
<sp who="ccaff"><speaker><lb n="154777"/>Cissy Caffrey</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154778"/>(with expectation)</stage> Is he bleeding!</p></sp>
<sp who="A Man"><speaker><lb n="154779"/>A Man</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154780"/>(rising from his knees)</stage> No. Gone off. He'll come to all right.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154781"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154782"/>(glances sharply at the man)</stage> Leave him to me. I can easily .....</p></sp>
<sp who="w2"><speaker><lb n="154783"/>Second Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="154784"/>Who are you? Do you know him?</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="154785"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154786"/>(lurches towards the watch)</stage> He insulted my lady friend.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154787"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154788"/>(angrily)</stage> You hit him without provocation. I'm a witness. Constable, take
<lb n="154789"/>his regimental number.</p></sp>
<sp who="w2"><speaker><lb n="154790"/>Second Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="154791"/>I don't want your instructions in the discharge of my duty.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Compton"><speaker><lb n="154792"/>Private Compton</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154793"/>(pulling his comrade)</stage> Here, bugger off, Harry. Or Bennett'll shove you in
<lb n="154794"/>the lockup.</p></sp>
<sp who="Private Carr"><speaker><lb n="154795"/>Private Carr</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154796"/>(staggering as he is pulled away)</stage> God fuck old Bennett. He's a whitearsed
<lb n="154797"/>bugger. I don't give a shit for him.</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="154798"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154799"/>(takes out his notebook)</stage> What's his name?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154800"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154801"/>(peering over the crowd)</stage> I just see a car there. If you give me a hand a
<lb n="154802"/>second, sergeant ....</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="154803"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="154804"/>Name and address.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154805"/>(Corny Kelleher, weepers round his hat, a death wreath in his hand,
<lb n="154806"/>appears among the bystanders.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154807"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154808"/>(quickly)</stage> O, the very man! <stage>(he whispers)</stage> Simon Dedalus' son. A bit
<lb n="154809"/>sprung. Get those policemen to move those loafers back.</p></sp>
<sp who="w2"><speaker><lb n="154810"/>Second Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="154811"/>Night, Mr Kelleher.</p></sp>
<sp who="ck"><speaker><lb n="154812"/>Corny Kelleher</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154813"/>(to the watch, with drawling eye)</stage> That's all right. I know him. Won a bit
<lb n="154814"/>on the races. Gold cup. <name type="horse">Throwaway.</name> <stage>(he laughs)</stage> Twenty to one. Do you
<lb n="154815"/>follow me?</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="154816"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154817"/>(turns to the crowd)</stage> Here, what are you all gaping at? Move on out of
<lb n="154818"/>that.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154819"/>(The crowd disperses slowly, muttering, down the lane.)</stage>
<sp who="ck"><speaker><lb n="154820"/>Corny Kelleher</speaker>
<p><lb n="154821"/>Leave it to me, sergeant. That'll be all right. <stage>(he laughs, shaking his head)</stage>
<lb n="154822"/>We were often as bad ourselves, ay or worse. What? Eh, what?</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="154823"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154824"/>(laughs)</stage> I suppose so.</p></sp>
<sp who="ck"><speaker><lb n="154825"/>Corny Kelleher</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154826"/>(nudges the second watch)</stage> Come and wipe your name off the slate. <stage>(he
<lb n="154827"/>lilts, wagging his head)</stage> With my tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom
<lb n="154828"/>tooraloom. What, eh, do you follow me?</p></sp>
<sp who="w2"><speaker><lb n="154829"/>Second Watch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154830"/>(genially)</stage> Ah, sure we were too.</p></sp>
<sp who="ck"><speaker><lb n="154831"/>Corny Kelleher</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154832"/>(winking)</stage> Boys will be boys. I've a car round there.</p></sp>
<sp who="w2"><speaker><lb n="154833"/>Second Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="154834"/>All right, Mr Kelleher. Good night.</p></sp>
<sp who="ck"><speaker><lb n="154835"/>Corny Kelleher</speaker>
<p><lb n="154836"/>I'll see to that.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154837"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154838"/>(shakes hands with both of the watch in turn)</stage> Thank you very much,
<lb n="154839"/>gentlemen. Thank you. <stage>(he mumbles confidentially)</stage> We don't want any
<lb n="154840"/>scandal, you understand. Father is a wellknown highly respected citizen.
<lb n="154841"/>Just a little wild oats, you understand.</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="154842"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="154843"/>O. I understand, sir.</p></sp>
<sp who="w2"><speaker><lb n="154844"/>Second Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="154845"/>That's all right, sir.</p></sp>
<sp who="w1"><speaker><lb n="154846"/>First Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="154847"/>It was only in case of corporal injuries I'd have to report it at the station.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154848"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154849"/>(nods rapidly)</stage> Naturally. Quite right. Only your bounden duty.</p></sp>
<sp who="w2"><speaker><lb n="154850"/>Second Watch</speaker>
<p><lb n="154851"/>It's our duty.</p></sp>
<sp who="ck"><speaker><lb n="154852"/>Corny Kelleher</speaker>
<p><lb n="154853"/>Good night, men.</p></sp>
<sp who="First Watch AND Second Watch"><speaker><lb n="154854"/>The Watch</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154855"/>(saluting together)</stage> Night, gentlemen.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154856"/>(They move off with slow heavy tread.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154857"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154858"/>(blows)</stage> Providential you came on the scene. You have a car ...?</p></sp>
<sp who="ck"><speaker><lb n="154859"/>Corny Kelleher</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154860"/>(laughs, pointing his thumb over his right shoulder to the car brought up
<lb n="154861"/>against the scaffolding)</stage> Two commercials that were standing fizz in
<lb n="154862"/>Jammet's. Like princes, faith. One of them lost two quid on the race.
<lb n="154863"/>Drowning his grief. And were on for a go with the jolly girls. So I landed
<lb n="154864"/>them up on Behan's car and down to nighttown.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154865"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="154866"/>I was just going home by Gardiner street when I happened to ...</p></sp>
<sp who="ck"><speaker><lb n="154867"/>Corny Kelleher</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154868"/>(laughs)</stage> Sure they wanted me to join in with the mots. No, by God, says I.
<lb n="154869"/>Not for old stagers like myself and yourself. <stage>(he laughs again and leers
<lb n="154870"/>with lacklustre eye)</stage> Thanks be to God we have it in the house, what, eh, do
<lb n="154871"/>you follow me? Hah, hah, hah!</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154872"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154873"/>(tries to laugh)</stage> He, he, he! Yes. Matter of fact I was just visiting an old
<lb n="154874"/>friend of mine there, Virag, you don't know him (poor fellow, he's laid up
<lb n="154875"/>for the past week) and we had a liquor together and I was just making my
<lb n="154876"/>way home ......</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154877"/>(The horse neighs.)</stage>
<sp who="The Horse"><speaker><lb n="154878"/>The Horse</speaker>
<p><lb n="154879"/>Hohohohohohoh! Hohohohome!</p></sp>
<sp who="ck"><speaker><lb n="154880"/>Corny Kelleher</speaker>
<p><lb n="154881"/>Sure it was Behan our jarvey there that told me after we left the two
<lb n="154882"/>commercials in Mrs Cohen's and I told him to pull up and got off to see.
<stage><lb n="154883"/>(he laughs)</stage> Sober hearsedrivers a speciality. Will I give him a lift home?
<lb n="154884"/>Where does he hang out? Somewhere in Cabra, what?</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154885"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="154886"/>No, in Sandycove, I believe, from what he let drop.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154887"/>(Stephen, prone, breathes to the stars. Corny Kelleher, asquint,
<lb n="154888"/>drawls at the horse. Bloom, in gloom, looms down.)</stage>
<sp who="ck"><speaker><lb n="154889"/>Corny Kelleher</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154890"/>(scratches his nape)</stage> Sandycove! <stage>(he bends down and calls to Stephen)</stage>
<lb n="154891"/>Eh! <stage>(he calls again)</stage> Eh! He's covered with shavings anyhow. Take care
<lb n="154892"/>they didn't lift anything off him.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154893"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="154894"/>No, no, no. I have his money and his hat here and stick.</p></sp>
<sp who="ck"><speaker><lb n="154895"/>Corny Kelleher</speaker>
<p><lb n="154896"/>Ah, well, he'll get over it. No bones broken. Well, I'll shove along. <stage>(he
<lb n="154897"/>laughs)</stage> I've a rendezvous in the morning. Burying the dead. Safe home!</p></sp>
<sp who="The Horse"><speaker><lb n="154898"/>The Horse</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154899"/>(neighs)</stage> Hohohohohome.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154900"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="154901"/>Good night. I'll just wait and take him along in a few ...</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154902"/>(Corny Kelleher returns to the outside car and mounts it. The
<lb n="154903"/>horseharness jingles.)</stage>
<sp who="ck"><speaker><lb n="154904"/>Corny Kelleher</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154905"/>(from the car, standing)</stage> Night.</p></sp>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154906"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="154907"/>Night.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154908"/>(The jarvey chucks the reins and raises his whip encouragingly.
<lb n="154909"/>The car and horse back slowly, awkwardly, and turn. Corny
<lb n="154910"/>Kelleher on the sideseat sways his head to and fro in sign of mirth at
<lb n="154911"/>Bloom's plight. The jarvey joins in the mute pantomimic merriment
<lb n="154912"/>nodding from the farther seat. Bloom shakes his head in mute
<lb n="154913"/>mirthful reply. With thumb and palm Corny Kelleher reassures that
<lb n="154914"/>the two bobbies will allow the sleep to continue for what else is to be
<lb n="154915"/>done. With a slow nod Bloom conveys his gratitude as that is
<lb n="154916"/>exactly what Stephen needs. The car jingles tooraloom round the
<lb n="154917"/>corner of the tooraloom lane. Corny Kelleher again reassuralooms
<lb n="154918"/>with his hand. Bloom with his hand assuralooms Corny Kelleher
<lb n="154919"/>that he is reassuraloomtay. The tinkling hoofs and jingling harness
<lb n="154920"/>grow fainter with their tooralooloo looloo lay. Bloom, holding in
<lb n="154921"/>his hand Stephen's hat, festooned with shavings, and ashplant,
<lb n="154922"/>stands irresolute. Then he bends to him and shakes him by the
<lb n="154923"/>shoulder.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154924"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="154925"/>Eh! Ho! <stage>(There is no answer. He bends again.)</stage> Mr Dedalus! <stage>(there is no
<lb n="154926"/>answer)</stage> The name if you call. Somnambulist. <stage>(he bends again and,
<lb n="154927"/>hesitating, brings his mouth near the face of the prostrate form)</stage> Stephen!
<stage><lb n="154928"/>(There is no answer. He calls again.)</stage> Stephen!</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154929"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154930"/>(frowns)</stage> Who? Black panther. Vampire. <stage>(he sighs and stretches himself,
<lb n="154931"/>then murmurs thickly with prolonged vowels)</stage></p>
<quote><lg><lb n="154932"/><l>Who ... drive ... Fergus now</l>
<lb n="154933"/><l>And pierce ... wood's woven shade ..?</l></lg></quote></sp>
<stage><lb n="154934"/>(He turns on his left side, sighing, doubling himself together.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154935"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><lb n="154936"/>Poetry. Well educated. Pity. <stage>(he bends again and undoes the buttons of
<lb n="154937"/>Stephen's waistcoat)</stage> To breathe. <stage>(he brushes the woodshavings from
<lb n="154938"/>Stephen's clothes with light hand and fingers)</stage> One pound seven. Not hurt
<lb n="154939"/>anyhow. <stage>(he listens)</stage> What?</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="154940"/>Stephen</speaker>
<stage><lb n="154941"/>(murmurs)</stage>
<quote><lg><lb n="154942"/><l>.... shadows ... the woods</l>
<lb n="154943"/><l>... white breast ... dim sea.</l></lg></quote></sp>
<stage><lb n="154944"/>(He stretches out his arms, sighs again and curls his body. Bloom,
<lb n="154945"/>holding the hat and ashplant, stands erect. A dog barks in the
<lb n="154946"/>distance. Bloom tightens and loosens his grip on the ashplant. He
<lb n="154947"/>looks down on Stephen's face and form.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154948"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154949"/>(communes with the night)</stage> Face reminds me of his poor mother. In the
<lb n="154950"/>shady wood. The deep white breast. Ferguson, I think I caught. A girl.
<lb n="154951"/>Some girl. Best thing could happen him. <stage>(he murmurs)</stage> ..... swear that I will
<lb n="154952"/>always hail, ever conceal, never reveal, any part or parts, art or arts ...... <stage>(he
<lb n="154953"/>murmurs)</stage> ..... in the rough sands of the sea ... a cabletow's length from the
<lb n="154954"/>shore .... where the tide ebbs .... and flows .....</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="154955"/>(Silent, thoughtful, alert he stands on guard, his fingers at his lips in
<lb n="154956"/>the attitude of secret master. Against the dark wall a figure appears
<lb n="154957"/>slowly, a fairy boy of eleven, a changeling, kidnapped, dressed in an
<lb n="154958"/>Eton suit with glass shoes and a little bronze helmet, holding a book
<lb n="154959"/>in his hand. He reads from right to left inaudibly, smiling, kissing
<lb n="154960"/>the page.)</stage>
<sp who="lb"><speaker><lb n="154961"/>Bloom</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="154962"/>(wonderstruck, calls inaudibly)</stage> Rudy!</p></sp>
<sp who="rub"><speaker><lb n="154963"/>Rudy</speaker>
<stage><lb n="154964"/>(gazes, unseeing, into Bloom's eyes and goes on reading, kissing, smiling.
<lb n="154965"/>He has a delicate mauve face. On his suit he has diamond and ruby
<lb n="154966"/>buttons. In his free left hand he holds a slim ivory cane with a violet
<lb n="154967"/>bowknot. A white lambkin peeps out of his waistcoat pocket.)</stage></sp>
</div><!-- End of Episode 15, "Circe" -->