00 |
PARBefore Nelson's pillar trams slowed, shunted, changed trolley, started
for Blackrock, Kingstown and Dalkey, Clonskea, Rathgar and Terenure,
Palmerston Park and upper Rathmines, Sandymount Green, Rathmines,
Ringsend and Sandymount Tower, Harold's Cross. The hoarse Dublin
United Tramway Company's timekeeper bawled them off:
PARRathgar and Terenure!
PARCome on, Sandymount Green!
PARRight and left parallel clanging ringing a doubledecker and a
singledeck moved from their railheads, swerved to the down line, glided 10
parallel.
PARStart, Palmerston Park!
PARUnder the porch of the general post office shoeblacks called and
polished. Parked in North Prince's street His Majesty's vermilion mailcars,
bearing on their sides the royal initials, E. R., received loudly flung
sacks of
letters, postcards, lettercards, parcels, insured and paid, for local,
provincial, British and overseas delivery.
20 |
PARGrossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's
stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float
bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of
Prince's stores.
PARThere it is, Red Murray said. Alexander Keyes.
PARJust cut it out, will you? Mr Bloom said, and I'll take it round to
the
Telegraph office.
PARThe door of Ruttledge's office creaked again. Davy Stephens, minute
in a large capecoat, a small felt hat crowning his ringlets, passed out
with a
roll of papers under his cape, a king's courier.
30 |
PARRed Murray's long shears sliced out the advertisement from the
newspaper in four clean strokes. Scissors and paste.
PARI'll go through the printingworks, Mr Bloom said, taking the cut square.
PAROf course, if he wants a par, Red Murray said earnestly, a pen behind
his
ear, we can do him one.
PARRight, Mr Bloom said with a nod. I'll rub that in.
PARWe.
PARRed Murray touched Mr Bloom's arm with the shears and whispered:
40
PARBrayden.
PARMr Bloom turned and saw the liveried porter raise his lettered cap as a PAR
stately figure entered between the newsboards of the Weekly Freeman
and
National Press and the Freeman's Journal and National Press.
Dullthudding
Guinness's barrels. It passed statelily up the staircase, steered by an
umbrella, a solemn beardframed face. The broadcloth back ascended each
step: back. All his brains are in the nape of his neck, Simon Dedalus says.
Welts of flesh behind on him. Fat folds of neck, fat, neck, fat, neck.
PARThe door of Ruttledge's office whispered: ee: cree. They always build PAROur Saviour: beardframed oval face: talking in the dusk. Mary, PAR
one door opposite another for the wind to. Way in. Way out. 50
Martha. Steered by an umbrella sword to the footlights: Mario the tenor.
PARYes, Red Murray agreed. But Mario was said to be the picture of Our
Saviour.
PARJesusmario with rougy cheeks, doublet and spindle legs. Hand on his
heart. In Martha.
Co-ome thou lost one,
Co-ome thou dear one!
60 |
PARHis grace phoned down twice this morning, Red Murray said gravely.
PARThey watched the knees, legs, boots vanish. Neck. PAR
and stepped off posthaste with a word:
PARFreeman!
PARMr Bloom said slowly:
PARWell, he is one of our saviours also.
PARA meek smile accompanied him as he lifted the counterflap, as he
passed in through a sidedoor and along the warm dark stairs and passage,
70 |
along the now reverberating boards. But will he save the circulation? PAR
Thumping. Thumping.
packing paper. Through a lane of clanking drums he made his way towards
Nannetti's reading closet.
PAR
Hynes here too: account of the funeral probably. Thumping. Thump.
WITH UNFEIGNED REGRET IT IS WE
ANNOUNCE THE DISSOLUTION OF A MOST
RESPECTED DUBLIN BURGESS 80
PARThis morning the remains of the late Mr Patrick Dignam. Machines.
Smash a man to atoms if they got him caught. Rule the world today. His
machineries are pegging away too. Like these, got out of hand: fermenting.
Working away, tearing away. And that old grey rat tearing to get in.
PARMr Bloom halted behind the foreman's spare body, admiring a glossy
crown.
PARStrange he never saw his real country. Ireland my country. Member PAR PAR
for College green. He boomed that workaday worker tack for all it was
worth. It's the ads and side features sell a weekly, not the stale news
in the
official gazette. Queen Anne is dead. Published by authority in the year
one 90
thousand and. Demesne situate in the townland of Rosenallis, barony of
Tinnahinch. To all whom it may concern schedule pursuant to statute
showing return of number of mules and jennets exported from Ballina.
Nature notes. Cartoons. Phil Blake's weekly Pat and Bull story. Uncle
Toby's page for tiny tots. Country bumpkin's queries. Dear Mr Editor,
what is a good cure for flatulence? I'd like that part. Learn a lot teaching
others. The personal note. M. A. P. Mainly all pictures. Shapely bathers
on
golden strand. World's biggest balloon. Double marriage of sisters
celebrated. Two bridegrooms laughing heartily at each other. Cuprani too,
printer. More Irish than the Irish. 100
Now if he got paralysed there and no-one knew how to stop them they'd
clank on and on the same, print it over and over and up and back.
Monkeydoodle the whole thing. Want a cool head.
PARSoon be calling him my lord mayor. Long John is backing him, they PAR
say.
sheet and made a sign to a typesetter. He handed the sheet silently over
the
dirty glass screen. 110
PARRight: thanks, Hynes said moving off.
PARMr Bloom stood in his way.
PARIf you want to draw the cashier is just going to lunch, he said, pointing
backward with his thumb.
PARDid you? Hynes asked.
PARMm, Mr Bloom said. Look sharp and you'll catch him.
PARThanks, old man, Hynes said. I'll tap him too.
PARHe hurried on eagerly towards the Freeman's Journal office.
PARThree bob I lent him in Meagher's. Three weeks. Third hint.
120 |
PARMr Bloom laid his cutting on Mr Nannetti's desk.
PARExcuse me, councillor, he said. This ad, you see. Keyes, you remember?
PARMr Nannetti considered the cutting awhile and nodded.
PARHe wants it in for July, Mr Bloom said.
PARThe foreman moved his pencil towards it.
PARBut wait, Mr Bloom said. He wants it changed. Keyes, you see. He wants
two keys at the top.
PARHell of a racket they make. He doesn't hear it. Nannan. Iron nerves. PAR
Maybe he understands what I.
130
began to scratch slowly in the armpit of his alpaca jacket.
PARLike that, Mr Bloom said, crossing his forefingers at the top.
PARLet him take that in first. PAR PAR
foreman's sallow face, think he has a touch of jaundice, and beyond the
obedient reels feeding in huge webs of paper. Clank it. Clank it. Miles
of it
unreeled. What becomes of it after? O, wrap up meat, parcels: various uses,
thousand and one things.
swiftly on the scarred woodwork. 140
PARLike that, see. Two crossed keys here. A circle. Then here the name.
Alexander Keyes, tea, wine and spirit merchant. So on.
PARBetter not teach him his own business. PAR
leaded: the house of keys. You see? Do you think that's a good idea?
PARThe foreman moved his scratching hand to his lower ribs and
scratched there quietly.
PARThe idea, Mr Bloom said, is the house of keys. You know, councillor,
the
150 |
PARI could ask him perhaps about how to pronounce that voglio. But PAR
then if he didn't know only make it awkward for him. Better not.
PARI can get it, Mr Bloom said. It was in a Kilkenny paper. He has a house
there too. I'll just run out and ask him. Well, you can do that and just
a little
par calling attention. You know the usual. Highclass licensed premises.
Longfelt want. So on.
PARThe foreman thought for an instant.
160
PARWe can do that, he said. Let him give us a three months' renewal.
PARA typesetter brought him a limp galleypage. He began to check it
silently. Mr Bloom stood by, hearing the loud throbs of cranks, watching
the silent typesetters at their cases.
PARWant to be sure of his spelling. Proof fever. Martin Cunningham PARI should have said when he clapped on his topper. Thank you. I ought PAR
forgot to give us his spellingbee conundrum this morning. It is amusing
to
view the unpar one ar alleled embarra two ars is it? double ess ment of
a
harassed pedlar while gauging au the symmetry with a y of a peeled pear
under a cemetery wall. Silly, isn't it? Cemetery put in of course on account
of the symmetry. 170
to have said something about an old hat or something. No. I could have
said. Looks as good as new now. See his phiz then.
flyboard with sllt the first batch of quirefolded papers. Sllt. Almost
human
the way it sllt to call attention. Doing its level best to speak. That
door too
sllt creaking, asking to be shut. Everything speaks in its own way. Sllt.
180 |
PARThe foreman handed back the galleypage suddenly, saying:
PARWait. Where's the archbishop's letter? It's to be repeated in the Telegraph.
Where's what's his name?
PARHe looked about him round his loud unanswering machines.
PARMonks, sir? a voice asked from the castingbox.
PARAy. Where's Monks?
PARMonks!
PARMr Bloom took up his cutting. Time to get out. PAR
place I know.
190 |
PARMonks!
PARYes, sir.
PARThree months' renewal. Want to get some wind off my chest first. Try
it anyhow. Rub in August: good idea: horseshow month. Ballsbridge.
Tourists over for the show.
PARHe walked on through the caseroom passing an old man, bowed,
spectacled, aproned. Old Monks, the dayfather. Queer lot of stuff he must
have put through his hands in his time: obituary notices, pubs' ads,
speeches, divorce suits, found drowned. Nearing the end of his tether now.
Sober serious man with a bit in the savingsbank I'd say. Wife a good cook 200
and washer. Daughter working the machine in the parlour. Plain Jane, no
damn nonsense.
PARHe stayed in his walk to watch a typesetter neatly distributing type. PAR
Reads it backwards first. Quickly he does it. Must require some practice
that. mangiD kcirtaP. Poor papa with his hagadah book, reading
backwards with his finger to me. Pessach. Next year in Jerusalem. Dear,
O
dear! All that long business about that brought us out of the land of Egypt
and into the house of bondage alleluia. Shema Israel Adonai Elohenu.
No, 210
that's the other. Then the twelve brothers, Jacob's sons. And then the
lamb
and the cat and the dog and the stick and the water and the butcher. And
then the angel of death kills the butcher and he kills the ox and the dog
kills
the cat. Sounds a bit silly till you come to look into it well. Justice
it means
but it's everybody eating everyone else. That's what life is after all.
How
quickly he does that job. Practice makes perfect. Seems to see with his
fingers.
to the landing. Now am I going to tram it out all the way and then catch
him out perhaps. Better phone him up first. Number? Yes. Same as Citron's 220
house. Twentyeight. Twentyeight double four.
PARHe went down the house staircase. Who the deuce scrawled all over PAR
those walls with matches? Looks as if they did it for a bet. Heavy greasy
smell there always is in those works. Lukewarm glue in Thom's next door
when I was there.
soap I put there. Lose it out of that pocket. Putting back his handkerchief
he took out the soap and stowed it away, buttoned, into the hip pocket
of
his trousers.
230
PARWhat perfume does your wife use? I could go home still: tram: PAR PAR
something I forgot. Just to see: before: dressing. No. Here. No.
office. Know who that is. What's up? Pop in a minute to phone. Ned
Lambert it is.
PARThe ghost walks, professor MacHugh murmured softly, biscuitfully
to
the dusty windowpane.
240
PARMr Dedalus, staring from the empty fireplace at Ned Lambert's
quizzing face, asked of it sourly:
PARAgonising Christ, wouldn't it give you a heartburn on your arse?
PARNed Lambert, seated on the table, read on:
PAROr again, note the meanderings of some purling rill as it babbles
on its
way, tho' quarrelling with the stony obstacles, to the tumbling waters
of
Neptune's blue domain, 'mid mossy banks, fanned by gentlest zephyrs,
played on by the glorious sunlight or 'neath the shadows cast o'er its
pensive
bosom by the overarching leafage of the giants of the forest. What
about
that, Simon? he asked over the fringe of his newspaper. How's that for
250 |
PARChanging his drink, Mr Dedalus said.
PARNed Lambert, laughing, struck the newspaper on his knees,
repeating:
PARThe pensive bosom and the overarsing leafage. O boys! O boys!
PARAnd Xenophon looked upon Marathon, Mr Dedalus said, looking again
on the fireplace and to the window, and Marathon looked on the sea.
PARThat will do, professor MacHugh cried from the window. I don't want
to
hear any more of the stuff.
PARHe ate off the crescent of water biscuit he had been nibbling and,
hungered, made ready to nibble the biscuit in his other hand. 260
PARHigh falutin stuff. Bladderbags. Ned Lambert is taking a day off I PAR
see. Rather upsets a man's day, a funeral does. He has influence they say.
Old Chatterton, the vicechancellor, is his granduncle or his
greatgranduncle. Close on ninety they say. Subleader for his death written
this long time perhaps. Living to spite them. Might go first himself. Johnny,
make room for your uncle. The right honourable Hedges Eyre Chatterton.
Daresay he writes him an odd shaky cheque or two on gale days. Windfall
when he kicks out. Alleluia.
270
PARWhat is it? Mr Bloom asked.
PARA recently discovered fragment of Cicero, professor MacHugh answered
with pomp of tone. Our lovely land.
PARWhose land? Mr Bloom said simply.
PARMost pertinent question, the professor said between his chews. With
an
accent on the whose.
PARDan Dawson's land Mr Dedalus said.
PARIs it his speech last night? Mr Bloom asked.
280 |
PARBut listen to this, he said.
PARThe doorknob hit Mr Bloom in the small of the back as the door was
pushed in.
PARExcuse me, J. J. O'Molloy said, entering.
PARMr Bloom moved nimbly aside.
PARI beg yours, he said.
PARGood day, Jack.
PARCome in. Come in.
PARGood day.
290 |
PARWell. And yourself?
PARJ. J. O'Molloy shook his head.
PARCleverest fellow at the junior bar he used to be. Decline, poor chap. PAR
That hectic flush spells finis for a man. Touch and go with him. What's
in
the wind, I wonder. Money worry.
PARYou're looking extra.
PARIs the editor to be seen? J. J. O'Molloy asked, looking towards the
inner
door.
300
PARVery much so, professor MacHugh said. To be seen and heard. He's in
his sanctum with Lenehan.
PARJ. J. O'Molloy strolled to the sloping desk and began to turn back the
pink pages of the file.
PARPractice dwindling. A mighthavebeen. Losing heart. Gambling. Debts PAR
of honour. Reaping the whirlwind. Used to get good retainers from D. and
T. Fitzgerald. Their wigs to show the grey matter. Brains on their sleeve
like the statue in Glasnevin. Believe he does some literary work for the
Express with Gabriel Conroy. Wellread fellow. Myles Crawford began on
the Independent. Funny the way those newspaper men veer about when
they get wind of a new opening. Weathercocks. Hot and cold in the same 310
breath. Wouldn't know which to believe. One story good till you hear the
next. Go for one another baldheaded in the papers and then all blows over.
Hail fellow well met the next moment.
climb the serried mountain peaks ...
PARBombast! the professor broke in testily. Enough of the inflated windbag!
PARPeaks, Ned Lambert went on, towering high on high, to bathe our souls,
as it were ...
PARBathe his lips, Mr Dedalus said. Blessed and eternal God! Yes? Is he
320 |
PARAs 'twere, in the peerless panorama of Ireland's portfolio, unmatched,
despite their wellpraised prototypes in other vaunted prize regions, for
very
beauty, of bosky grove and undulating plain and luscious pastureland of
vernal green, steeped in the transcendent translucent glow of our mild
mysterious Irish twilight ...
PARThe moon, professor MacHugh said. He forgot Hamlet.
PARThat mantles the vista far and wide and wait till the glowing
orb of the
moon shine forth to irradiate her silver effulgence ...
330 |
PARO! Mr Dedalus cried, giving vent to a hopeless groan. Shite and onions!
That'll do, Ned. Life is too short.
PARHe took off his silk hat and, blowing out impatiently his bushy
moustache, welshcombed his hair with raking fingers.
PARNed Lambert tossed the newspaper aside, chuckling with delight. An
instant after a hoarse bark of laughter burst over professor MacHugh's
unshaven blackspectacled face.
PARDoughy Daw! he cried.
PARAll very fine to jeer at it now in cold print but it goes down like
hot PAR
cake that stuff. He was in the bakery line too, wasn't he? Why they call
him 340
Doughy Daw. Feathered his nest well anyhow. Daughter engaged to that
chap in the inland revenue office with the motor. Hooked that nicely.
Entertainments. Open house. Big blowout. Wetherup always said that. Get
a grip of them by the stomach.
crested by a comb of feathery hair, thrust itself in. The bold blue eyes
stared
about them and the harsh voice asked:
PARWhat is it?
PARAnd here comes the sham squire himself! professor MacHugh said
grandly. 350
PARGetonouthat, you bloody old pedagogue! the editor said in recognition.
PARCome, Ned, Mr Dedalus said, putting on his hat. I must get a drink after
PARDrink! the editor cried. No drinks served before mass.
PARQuite right too, Mr Dedalus said, going out. Come on, Ned.
PARNed Lambert sidled down from the table. The editor's blue eyes roved
towards Mr Bloom's face, shadowed by a smile.
PARWill you join us, Myles? Ned Lambert asked.
PARNorth Cork militia! the editor cried, striding to the mantelpiece.
We won
360 |
PARWhere was that, Myles? Ned Lambert asked with a reflective glance at
his
toecaps.
PARIn Ohio! the editor shouted.
PARSo it was, begad, Ned Lambert agreed.
PARPassing out he whispered to J. J. O'Molloy:
PARIncipient jigs. Sad case.
PAROhio! the editor crowed in high treble from his uplifted scarlet face.
My
Ohio!
PARA perfect cretic! the professor said. Long, short and long.
370 |
PARHe took a reel of dental floss from his waistcoat pocket and, breaking
off a piece, twanged it smartly between two and two of his resonant
unwashed teeth.
PARBingbang, bangbang.
PARMr Bloom, seeing the coast clear, made for the inner door.
PARJust a moment, Mr Crawford, he said. I just want to phone about an ad.
PARHe went in.
PARWhat about that leader this evening? professor MacHugh asked, coming
to the editor and laying a firm hand on his shoulder.
380
PARThat'll be all right, Myles Crawford said more calmly. Never you fret.
Hello, Jack. That's all right.
PARGood day, Myles, J. J. O'Molloy said, letting the pages he held slip
limply
back on the file. Is that Canada swindle case on today?
PARThe telephone whirred inside.
PARTwentyeight. No. Twenty. Double four, yes.
PARLenehan came out of the inner office with Sport's tissues.
PARWho wants a dead cert for the Gold cup? he asked. Sceptre with O.
Madden up.
390 |
PARHe tossed the tissues on to the table.
PARScreams of newsboys barefoot in the hall rushed near and the door
was flung open.
PARHush, Lenehan said. I hear feetstoops.
PARProfessor MacHugh strode across the room and seized the cringing
urchin by the collar as the others scampered out of the hall and down the
steps. The tissues rustled up in the draught, floated softly in the air
blue
scrawls and under the table came to earth.
PARIt wasn't me, sir. It was the big fellow shoved me, sir.
PARThrow him out and shut the door, the editor said. There's a hurricane
400 |
PARLenehan began to paw the tissues up from the floor, grunting as he
stooped twice.
PARWaiting for the racing special, sir, the newsboy said. It was Pat Farrell
shoved me, sir.
PARHe pointed to two faces peering in round the doorframe.
PARHim, sir.
PAROut of this with you, professor MacHugh said gruffly.
PARHe hustled the boy out and banged the door to.
PARJ. J. O'Molloy turned the files crackingly over, murmuring, seeking:
410 |
PARContinued on page six, column four.
PARYes, Evening Telegraph here, Mr Bloom phoned from the inner office.
Is
the boss...? Yes, Telegraph .... To where? Aha! Which auction rooms?...
Aha! I see. Right. I'll catch him.
PARThe bell whirred again as he rang off. He came in quickly and
bumped against Lenehan who was struggling up with the second tissue.
PARPardon, monsieur, Lenehan said, clutching him for an instant
and making
a grimace.
PARMy fault, Mr Bloom said, suffering his grip. Are you hurt? I'm in a
hurry.
420 |
PARKnee, Lenehan said.
PARHe made a comic face and whined, rubbing his knee:
PARThe accumulation of the anno Domini.
PARSorry, Mr Bloom said.
PARHe went to the door and, holding it ajar, paused. J. J. O'Molloy
slapped the heavy pages over. The noise of two shrill voices, a mouthorgan,
echoed in the bare hallway from the newsboys squatted on the doorsteps:
We are the boys of Wexford
Who fought with heart and hand.
430 |
PARI'm just running round to Bachelor's walk, Mr Bloom said, about this
ad
of Keyes's. Want to fix it up. They tell me he's round there in Dillon's.
PARHe looked indecisively for a moment at their faces. The editor who,
leaning against the mantelshelf, had propped his head on his hand,
suddenly stretched forth an arm amply.
PARBegone! he said. The world is before you.
PARBack in no time, Mr Bloom said, hurrying out.
PARJ. J. O'Molloy took the tissues from Lenehan's hand and read them,
blowing them apart gently, without comment.
PARHe'll get that advertisement, the professor said, staring through his
blackrimmed spectacles over the crossblind. Look at the young scamps after 440
him.
PARShow. Where? Lenehan cried, running to the window.
PARBoth smiled over the crossblind at the file of capering newsboys in
Mr
Bloom's wake, the last zigzagging white on the breeze a mocking kite, a
tail
of white bowknots.
PARLook at the young guttersnipe behind him hue and cry, Lenehan said,
and
you'll kick. O, my rib risible! Taking off his flat spaugs and the walk.
Small
nines. Steal upon larks.
450 |
PARHe began to mazurka in swift caricature across the floor on sliding
feet past the fireplace to J. J. O'Molloy who placed the tissues in his
receiving hands.
PARWhat's that? Myles Crawford said with a start. Where are the other two
gone?
PARWho? the professor said, turning. They're gone round to the Oval for
a
drink. Paddy Hooper is there with Jack Hall. Came over last night.
PARCome on then, Myles Crawford said. Where's my hat?
PARHe walked jerkily into the office behind, parting the vent of his jacket,
jingling his keys in his back pocket. They jingled then in the air and
against
the wood as he locked his desk drawer. 460
PARHe's pretty well on, professor MacHugh said in a low voice.
PARSeems to be, J. J. O'Molloy said, taking out a cigarettecase in murmuring
meditation, but it is not always as it seems. Who has the most matches?
PARHe offered a cigarette to the professor and took one himself. Lenehan
promptly struck a match for them and lit their cigarettes in turn. J. J.
O'Molloy opened his case again and offered it.
PARThanky vous, Lenehan said, helping himself.
PARThe editor came from the inner office, a straw hat awry on his brow.
470 |
'Twas rank and fame that tempted thee,
'Twas empire charmed thy heart.
PARThe professor grinned, locking his long lips.
PAREh? You bloody old Roman empire? Myles Crawford said.
PARHe took a cigarette from the open case. Lenehan, lighting it for him
with quick grace, said:
PARSilence for my brandnew riddle!
PARImperium romanum, J. J. O'Molloy said gently. It sounds nobler
than
British or Brixton. The word reminds one somehow of fat in the fire.
PARMyles Crawford blew his first puff violently towards the ceiling.
480
PARThat's it, he said. We are the fat. You and I are the fat in the fire.
We
haven't got the chance of a snowball in hell.
PARWait a moment, professor MacHugh said, raising two quiet claws. We
mustn't be led away by words, by sounds of words. We think of Rome,
imperial, imperious, imperative.
PARHe extended elocutionary arms from frayed stained shirtcuffs,
pausing:
PARWhat was their civilisation? Vast, I allow: but vile. Cloacae:
sewers. The
jews in the wilderness and on the mountaintop said: It is meet to be
here.
Let us build an altar to Jehovah. The Roman, like the Englishman who 490
follows in his footsteps, brought to every new shore on which he set his
foot
(on our shore he never set it) only his cloacal obsession. He gazed about
him in his toga and he said: It is meet to be here. Let us construct
a
watercloset.
PARWhich they accordingly did do, Lenehan said. Our old ancient ancestors,
as we read in the first chapter of Guinness's, were partial to the running
stream.
PARThey were nature's gentlemen, J. J. O'Molloy murmured. But we have
also Roman law.
500 |
PARAnd Pontius Pilate is its prophet, professor MacHugh responded.
PARDo you know that story about chief baron Palles? J. J. O'Molloy asked.
It was at the royal university dinner. Everything was going swimmingly
.....
PARFirst my riddle, Lenehan said. Are you ready?
PARMr O'Madden Burke, tall in copious grey of Donegal tweed, came in
from the hallway. Stephen Dedalus, behind him, uncovered as he entered.
PAREntrez, mes enfants! Lenehan cried.
PARI escort a suppliant, Mr O'Madden Burke said melodiously. Youth led
by
Experience visits Notoriety.
PARHow do you do? the editor said, holding out a hand. Come in. Your
510 |
PARLenehan said to all:
PARSilence! What opera resembles a railwayline? Reflect, ponder, excogitate,
reply.
PARStephen handed over the typed sheets, pointing to the title and
signature.
PARWho? the editor asked.
PARBit torn off. PAR
520
PARThat old pelters, the editor said. Who tore it? Was he short taken?
On swift sail flaming
From storm and south
He comes, pale vampire,
Mouth to my mouth.
PARGood day, Stephen, the professor said, coming to peer over their
shoulders. Foot and mouth? Are you turned ...?
PARBullockbefriending bard.
PARGood day, sir, Stephen answered blushing. The letter is not mine.
Mr
530 |
PARO, I know him, Myles Crawford said, and I knew his wife too. The
bloodiest old tartar God ever made. By Jesus, she had the foot and mouth
disease and no mistake! The night she threw the soup in the waiter's face
in
the Star and Garter. Oho!
PARA woman brought sin into the world. For Helen, the runaway wife of PAR
Menelaus, ten years the Greeks. O'Rourke, prince of Breffni.
PARAy, a grass one, Myles Crawford said, his eye running down the
typescript. Emperor's horses. Habsburg. An Irishman saved his life on the
540 |
PARThe moot point is did he forget it, J. J. O'Molloy said quietly, turning
a
horseshoe paperweight. Saving princes is a thankyou job.
PARProfessor MacHugh turned on him.
PARAnd if not? he said.
PARI'll tell you how it was, Myles Crawford began. A Hungarian it was one
day ...
550 |
PARWe were always loyal to lost causes, the professor said. Success
for us is
the death of the intellect and of the imagination. We were never loyal
to the
successful. We serve them. I teach the blatant Latin language. I speak
the
tongue of a race the acme of whose mentality is the maxim: time is money.
Material domination. Domine! Lord! Where is the spirituality? Lord
Jesus?
Lord Salisbury? A sofa in a westend club. But the Greek!
PARA smile of light brightened his darkrimmed eyes, lengthened his long
lips. 560
PARThe Greek! he said again. Kyrios! Shining word! The vowels the
Semite
and the Saxon know not. Kyrie! The radiance of the intellect. I
ought to
profess Greek, the language of the mind. Kyrie eleison! The closetmaker
and the cloacamaker will never be lords of our spirit. We are liege subjects
of the catholic chivalry of Europe that foundered at Trafalgar and of the
empire of the spirit, not an imperium, that went under with the
Athenian
fleets at Aegospotami. Yes, yes. They went under. Pyrrhus, misled by an
oracle, made a last attempt to retrieve the fortunes of Greece. Loyal to
a lost
cause.
570 |
PARHe strode away from them towards the window.
PARThey went forth to battle, Mr O'Madden Burke said greyly, but they
always fell.
PARBoohoo! Lenehan wept with a little noise. Owing to a brick received
in
the latter half of the matinée. Poor, poor, poor Pyrrhus!
PARHe whispered then near Stephen's ear:
There's a ponderous pundit MacHugh
Who wears goggles of ebony hue.
As he mostly sees double
To wear them why trouble?
580
I can't see the Joe Miller. Can you?
PAR
In mourning for Sallust, Mulligan says. Whose mother is beastly PAR
dead.
PARThat'll be all right, he said. I'll read the rest after. That'll be
all right.
PARLenehan extended his hands in protest.
PARBut my riddle! he said. What opera is like a railwayline?
PAROpera? Mr O'Madden Burke's sphinx face reriddled.
PARLenehan announced gladly:
590 |
PARThe Rose of Castile. See the wheeze? Rows of cast steel. Gee!
PARHe poked Mr O'Madden Burke mildly in the spleen. Mr O'Madden
Burke fell back with grace on his umbrella, feigning a gasp.
PARHelp! he sighed. I feel a strong weakness.
PARLenehan, rising to tiptoe, fanned his face rapidly with the rustling
tissues.
PARThe professor, returning by way of the files, swept his hand across
Stephen's and Mr O'Madden Burke's loose ties.
PARParis, past and present, he said. You look like communards.
PARLike fellows who had blown up the Bastile, J. J. O'Molloy said in quiet
mockery. Or was it you shot the lord lieutenant of Finland between you? 600
You look as though you had done the deed. General Bobrikoff.
PARWe were only thinking about it, Stephen said.
PARAll the talents, Myles Crawford said. Law, the classics
PARThe turf, Lenehan put in.
PARLiterature, the press.
PARIf Bloom were here, the professor said. The gentle art of advertisement.
PARAnd Madam Bloom, Mr O'Madden Burke added. The vocal muse.
Dublin's prime favourite.
610 |
PARLenehan gave a loud cough.
PARAhem! he said very softly. O, for a fresh of breath air! I caught a
cold in
the park. The gate was open.
PARThe editor laid a nervous hand on Stephen's shoulder.
PARI want you to write something for me, he said. Something with a bite
in it.
You can do it. I see it in your face. In the lexicon of youth .....
PAR
See it in your face. See it in your eye. Lazy idle little schemer. PAR
nationalist meeting in Borris-in-Ossory. All balls! Bulldosing the public!
620 |
PARWe can all supply mental pabulum, Mr O'Madden Burke said.
PARStephen raised his eyes to the bold unheeding stare.
PARHe wants you for the pressgang, J. J. O'Molloy said.
PARYou can do it, Myles Crawford repeated, clenching his hand in emphasis.
Wait a minute. We'll paralyse Europe as Ignatius Gallaher used to say when
he was on the shaughraun, doing billiardmarking in the Clarence. Gallaher,
that was a pressman for you. That was a pen. You know how he made his
630 |
PARHe pushed past them to the files.
PARLook at here, he said turning. The New York World cabled for
a special.
Remember that time?
PARProfessor MacHugh nodded.
PARNew York World, the editor said, excitedly pushing back his straw
hat.
Where it took place. Tim Kelly, or Kavanagh I mean. Joe Brady and the
rest of them. Where Skin-the-Goat drove the car. Whole route, see?
640 |
PARSkin-the-Goat, Mr O'Madden Burke said. Fitzharris. He has that
cabman's shelter, they say, down there at Butt bridge. Holohan told me.
You know Holohan?
PARHop and carry one, is it? Myles Crawford said.
PARAnd poor Gumley is down there too, so he told me, minding stones for
the corporation. A night watchman.
PARStephen turned in surprise.
PARGumley? he said. You don't say so? A friend of my father's, is it?
PARNever mind Gumley, Myles Crawford cried angrily. Let Gumley mind
the stones, see they don't run away. Look at here. What did Ignatius
650 |
PARHe flung back pages of the files and stuck his finger on a point.
PARTake page four, advertisement for Bransome's coffee, let us say. Have
you got that? Right.
PARThe telephone whirred.
PARI'll answer it, the professor said, going.
PARB is parkgate. Good.
PARHis finger leaped and struck point after point, vibrating.
660
PART is viceregal lodge. C is where murder took place. K is Knockmaroon
gate.
PARThe loose flesh of his neck shook like a cock's wattles. An illstarched
dicky jutted up and with a rude gesture he thrust it back into his waistcoat.
PARHello? Evening Telegraph here. Hello?... Who's there?... Yes...
Yes....
Yes.
PARF to P is the route Skin-the-Goat drove the car for an alibi, Inchicore,
Roundtown, Windy Arbour, Palmerston Park, Ranelagh. F. A. B. P. Got
that? X is Davy's publichouse in upper Leeson street.
PARThe professor came to the inner door.
670
PARBloom is at the telephone, he said.
PARTell him go to hell, the editor said promptly. X is Davy's publichouse,
see?
PARClever, Lenehan said. Very.
PARGave it to them on a hot plate, Myles Crawford said, the whole bloody
history.
PARNightmare from which you will never awake.
PARI saw it, the editor said proudly. I was present. Dick Adams, the
besthearted bloody Corkman the Lord ever put the breath of life in, and
680 |
PARLenehan bowed to a shape of air, announcing:
PARMadam, I'm Adam. And Able was I ere I saw Elba.
PARHistory! Myles Crawford cried. The Old Woman of Prince's street was
there first. There was weeping and gnashing of teeth over that. Out of
an
advertisement. Gregor Grey made the design for it. That gave him the leg
up. Then Paddy Hooper worked Tay Pay who took him on to the Star.
Now he's got in with Blumenfeld. That's press. That's talent. Pyatt! He
was all their daddies!
PARThe father of scare journalism, Lenehan confirmed, and the
690 |
PARHello? Are you there? Yes, he's here still. Come across yourself.
PARWhere do you find a pressman like that now, eh? the editor cried.
PARHe flung the pages down.
PARClamn dever, Lenehan said to Mr O'Madden Burke.
PARVery smart, Mr O'Madden Burke said.
PARProfessor MacHugh came from the inner office.
PARTalking about the invincibles, he said, did you see that some hawkers
were up before the recorder
PARO yes, J. J. O'Molloy said eagerly. Lady Dudley was walking home
700 |
PARThey're only in the hook and eye department, Myles Crawford said.
Psha! Press and the bar! Where have you a man now at the bar like those
fellows, like Whiteside, like Isaac Butt, like silvertongued O'Hagan. Eh?
Ah, bloody nonsense. Psha! Only in the halfpenny place.
PARHis mouth continued to twitch unspeaking in nervous curls of
disdain.
710
PARWould anyone wish that mouth for her kiss? How do you know?
Why did you write it then? RHYMES AND REASONS
PAR
Mouth, south. Is the mouth south someway? Or the south a mouth?
Must be some. South, pout, out, shout, drouth. Rhymes: two men dressed
the same, looking the same, two by two.
. . . .
. . .
. . . .
. . la tua pace
. . . . . . . .
. . . che
parlar ti piace
. . . . . Mentre
che il vento, come fa, si tace.
PARHe saw them three by three, approaching girls, in green, in rose, in
720 |
PARSpeak up for yourself, Mr O'Madden Burke said.
PARJ. J. O'Molloy, smiling palely, took up the gage.
PARMy dear Myles, he said, flinging his cigarette aside, you put a false
construction on my words. I hold no brief, as at present advised, for the
third profession qua profession but your Cork legs are running away with
730 |
PARGrattan and Flood wrote for this very paper, the editor cried in
his face.
Irish volunteers. Where are you now? Established 1763. Dr Lucas. Who
have you now like John Philpot Curran? Psha!
740 |
PARWell, J. J. O'Molloy said, Bushe K. C., for example.
PARBushe? the editor said. Well, yes: Bushe, yes. He has a strain of it
in his
blood. Kendal Bushe or I mean Seymour Bushe.
PARHe would have been on the bench long ago, the professor said, only
for .... But no matter.
PARJ. J. O'Molloy turned to Stephen and said quietly and slowly:
PAROne of the most polished periods I think I ever listened to in my life
fell
from the lips of Seymour Bushe. It was in that case of fratricide, the
Childs
murder case. Bushe defended him.
And in the porches of mine ear did pour.
750 |
PARBy the way how did he find that out? He died in his sleep. Or the
other story, beast with two backs?
PAR
What was that? the professor asked.PARHe spoke on the law of evidence, J. J. O'Molloy said, of Roman justice
as
contrasted with the earlier Mosaic code, the lex talionis. And he
cited the
Moses of Michelangelo in the Vatican.
PARHa.
PARA few wellchosen words, Lenehan prefaced. Silence!
PARPause. J. J. O'Molloy took out his cigarettecase.
760
PARFalse lull. Something quite ordinary. PARMessenger took out his matchbox thoughtfully and lit his cigar. PARI have often thought since on looking back over that strange time that
it was that small act, trivial in itself, that striking of that match,
that
determined the whole aftercourse of both our lives. A POLISHED PERIOD
PARJ. J. O'Molloy resumed, moulding his words:
PARHe said of it: that stony effigy in frozen music, horned and terrible,
of the
human form divine, that eternal symbol of wisdom and of prophecy which,
if aught that the imagination or the hand of sculptor has wrought in marble
of soultransfigured and of soultransfiguring deserves to live, deserves
to live. 770
PARHis slim hand with a wave graced echo and fall.
PARFine! Myles Crawford said at once.
PARThe divine afflatus, Mr O'Madden Burke said.
PARYou like it? J. J. O'Molloy asked Stephen.
PARStephen, his blood wooed by grace of language and gesture, blushed.
He took a cigarette from the case. J. J. O'Molloy offered his case to Myles
Crawford. Lenehan lit their cigarettes as before and took his trophy,
saying:
PARMuchibus thankibus.
780 |
PARProfessor Magennis was speaking to me about you, J. J. O'Molloy said
to
Stephen. What do you think really of that hermetic crowd, the opal hush
poets: A. E. the mastermystic? That Blavatsky woman started it. She was
a
nice old bag of tricks. A. E. has been telling some yankee interviewer
that
you came to him in the small hours of the morning to ask him about planes
of consciousness. Magennis thinks you must have been pulling A. E.'s leg.
He is a man of the very highest morale, Magennis.
PARSpeaking about me. What did he say? What did he say? What did he PAR
say about me? Don't ask.
790
Wait a moment. Let me say one thing. The finest display of oratory I ever
heard was a speech made by John F Taylor at the college historical society.
Mr Justice Fitzgibbon, the present lord justice of appeal, had spoken and
the paper under debate was an essay (new for those days), advocating the
revival of the Irish tongue.
PARHe turned towards Myles Crawford and said:
PARYou know Gerald Fitzgibbon. Then you can imagine the style of his
discourse.
PARHe is sitting with Tim Healy, J. J. O'Molloy said, rumour has it, on
the
800 |
PARHe is sitting with a sweet thing, Myles Crawford said, in a child's
frock.
Go on. Well?
PARIt was the speech, mark you, the professor said, of a finished orator,
full
of courteous haughtiness and pouring in chastened diction I will not say
the
vials of his wrath but pouring the proud man's contumely upon the new
movement. It was then a new movement. We were weak, therefore
worthless.
PARHe closed his long thin lips an instant but, eager to be on, raised an
outspanned hand to his spectacles and, with trembling thumb and
ringfinger touching lightly the black rims, steadied them to a new focus.
810
PARIn ferial tone he addressed J. J. O'Molloy:
PARTaylor had come there, you must know, from a sickbed. That he had
prepared his speech I do not believe for there was not even one
shorthandwriter in the hall. His dark lean face had a growth of shaggy
beard round it. He wore a loose white silk neckcloth and altogether he
looked (though he was not) a dying man.
PARHis gaze turned at once but slowly from J. J. O'Molloy's towards
Stephen's face and then bent at once to the ground, seeking. His unglazed
linen collar appeared behind his bent head, soiled by his withering hair.
Still 820
seeking, he said:
PARWhen Fitzgibbon's speech had ended John F Taylor rose to reply. Briefly,
as well as I can bring them to mind, his words were these.
PARHe raised his head firmly. His eyes bethought themselves once more.
Witless shellfish swam in the gross lenses to and fro, seeking outlet.
PARHe began:
PARMr chairman, ladies and gentlemen: Great was my admiration in listening
to the remarks addressed to the youth of Ireland a moment since by my
learned friend. It seemed to me that I had been transported into a country
far
830 |
away from this country, into an age remote from this age, that I stood
in
ancient Egypt and that I was listening to the speech of some highpriest
of that
land addressed to the youthful Moses.
PARHis listeners held their cigarettes poised to hear, their smokes PAR
ascending in frail stalks that flowered with his speech. And let our crooked
smokes. Noble words coming. Look out. Could you try your hand at it
yourself?
raised in a tone of like haughtiness and like pride. I heard his words
and their
meaning was revealed to me.
840 |
PARIt was revealed to me that those things are good which yet are PAR
corrupted which neither if they were supremely good nor unless they were
good could be corrupted. Ah, curse you! That's saint Augustine.
You are a tribe of nomad herdsmen: we are a mighty people. You have no
cities nor no wealth: our cities are hives of humanity and our galleys,
trireme
and quadrireme, laden with all manner merchandise furrow the waters of
the
known globe. You have but emerged from primitive conditions: we have a
literature, a priesthood, an agelong history and a polity.
850 |
PARNile. PARChild, man, effigy. PARBy the Nilebank the babemaries kneel, cradle of bulrushes: a man PAR
supple in combat: stonehorned, stonebearded, heart of stone.
are the abodes of Isis and Osiris, of Horus and Ammon Ra. Yours serfdom,
awe and humbleness: ours thunder and the seas. Israel is weak and few are
her children: Egypt is an host and terrible are her arms. Vagrants and
daylabourers are you called: the world trembles at our name.
PARA dumb belch of hunger cleft his speech. He lifted his voice above it
boldly: 860
PARBut, ladies and gentlemen, had the youthful Moses listened to and
accepted
that view of life, had he bowed his head and bowed his will and bowed his
spirit before that arrogant admonition he would never have brought the
chosen people out of their house of bondage, nor followed the pillar of
the
cloud by day. He would never have spoken with the Eternal amid lightnings
on Sinai's mountaintop nor ever have come down with the light of
inspiration shining in his countenance and bearing in his arms the tables
of
the law, graven in the language of the outlaw.
PARHe ceased and looked at them, enjoying a silence.
870 |
PARJ. J. O'Molloy said not without regret:
PARAnd yet he died without having entered the land of promise.
PARA sudden - at - the - moment - though - from - lingering - illness -
often -
previously - expectorated - demise, Lenehan added. And with a great future
behind him.
PARThe troop of bare feet was heard rushing along the hallway and
pattering up the staircase.
PARThat is oratory, the professor said uncontradicted.
PARGone with the wind. Hosts at Mullaghmast and Tara of the kings. PARI have money. PAR
Miles of ears of porches. The tribune's words, howled and scattered to
the 880
four winds. A people sheltered within his voice. Dead noise. Akasic records
of all that ever anywhere wherever was. Love and laud him: me no more.
suggest that the house do now adjourn?
PARYou take my breath away. It is not perchance a French compliment?
Mr
O'Madden Burke asked. 'Tis the hour, methinks, when the winejug,
metaphorically speaking, is most grateful in Ye ancient hostelry.
PARThat it be and hereby is resolutely resolved. All that are in favour
say ay,
890 |
PARHe led the way, admonishing:
PARWe will sternly refuse to partake of strong waters, will we not? Yes,
we
will not. By no manner of means.
PARMr O'Madden Burke, following close, said with an ally's lunge of his
umbrella:
PARLay on, Macduff!
PARChip of the old block! the editor cried, clapping Stephen on the shoulder.
Let us go. Where are those blasted keys?
900 |
PARHe fumbled in his pocket pulling out the crushed typesheets.
PARFoot and mouth. I know. That'll be all right. That'll go in. Where are
they? That's all right.
PARHe thrust the sheets back and went into the inner office.
PARJ. J. O'Molloy, about to follow him in, said quietly to Stephen:
PAR
I hope you will live to see it published. Myles, one moment.
PARHe went into the inner office, closing the door behind him.
PARCome along, Stephen, the professor said. That is fine, isn't it? It
has the
prophetic vision. Fuit Ilium! The sack of windy Troy. Kingdoms of
this
910 |
PARThe first newsboy came pattering down the stairs at their heels and
rushed out into the street, yelling:
PARRacing special!
PARDublin. I have much, much to learn.
PARThey turned to the left along Abbey street.
PARI have a vision too, Stephen said.
PARYes? the professor said, skipping to get into step. Crawford will follow.
PARAnother newsboy shot past them, yelling as he ran:
PARRacing special!
920 |
PARDubliners. PAR
fiftythree years in Fumbally's lane.
PARWhere is that? the professor asked.
PAROff Blackpitts, Stephen said.
PARDamp night reeking of hungry dough. Against the wall. Face PAROn now. Dare it. Let there be life. PAR
glistering tallow under her fustian shawl. Frantic hearts. Akasic records.
Quicker, darlint!
930
They save up three and tenpence in a red tin letterbox moneybox. They
shake out the threepenny bits and sixpences and coax out the pennies with
the blade of a knife. Two and three in silver and one and seven in coppers.
They put on their bonnets and best clothes and take their umbrellas for
fear
it may come on to rain.
PARWise virgins, professor MacHugh said.
PARThey buy one and fourpenceworth of brawn and four slices of panloaf
at
the north city diningrooms in Marlborough street from Miss Kate Collins,
940 |
PARTheir names are Anne Kearns and Florence MacCabe. Anne Kearns
has the lumbago for which she rubs on Lourdes water, given her by a lady
who got a bottleful from a passionist father. Florence MacCabe takes a
950 |
PARAntithesis, the professor said nodding twice. Vestal virgins. I can
see
them. What's keeping our friend?
PARHe turned.
PARA bevy of scampering newsboys rushed down the steps, scattering in
all directions, yelling, their white papers fluttering. Hard after them
Myles
Crawford appeared on the steps, his hat aureoling his scarlet face, talking
with J. J. O'Molloy.
PARCome along, the professor cried, waving his arm.
PARHe set off again to walk by Stephen's side.
960 |
PARYes, he said. I see them.
PARMr Bloom, breathless, caught in a whirl of wild newsboys near the
offices of the Irish Catholic and Dublin Penny Journal, called:
PARMr Crawford! A moment!
PARTelegraph! Racing special!
PARWhat is it? Myles Crawford said, falling back a pace.
PARA newsboy cried in Mr Bloom's face:
PARTerrible tragedy in Rathmines! A child bit by a bellows!
970 |
PARJust this ad, Mr Bloom said, pushing through towards the steps, puffing,
and taking the cutting from his pocket. I spoke with Mr Keyes just now.
He'll give a renewal for two months, he says. After he'll see. But he wants
a
par to call attention in the Telegraph too, the Saturday pink. And
he wants
it copied if it's not too late I told councillor Nannetti from the Kilkenny
People. I can have access to it in the national library. House of keys,
don't
you see? His name is Keyes. It's a play on the name. But he practically
promised he'd give the renewal. But he wants just a little puff. What will
I
tell him, Mr Crawford?
980 |
PARWill you tell him he can kiss my arse? Myles Crawford said throwing
out
his arm for emphasis. Tell him that straight from the stable.
PARA bit nervy. Look out for squalls. All off for a drink. Arm in arm. PAR
Lenehan's yachting cap on the cadge beyond. Usual blarney. Wonder is
that young Dedalus the moving spirit. Has a good pair of boots on him
today. Last time I saw him he had his heels on view. Been walking in muck
somewhere. Careless chap. What was he doing in Irishtown?
it's worth a short par. He'd give the ad, I think. I'll tell him...
990 |
PARHe can kiss my royal Irish arse, Myles Crawford cried loudly over
his
shoulder. Any time he likes, tell him.
PARWhile Mr Bloom stood weighing the point and about to smile he
strode on jerkily.
PARNulla bona, Jack, he said, raising his hand to his chin. I'm
up to here.
I've been through the hoop myself. I was looking for a fellow to back a
bill
for me no later than last week. Sorry, Jack. You must take the will for
the
deed. With a heart and a half if I could raise the wind anyhow.
PARJ. J. O'Molloy pulled a long face and walked on silently. They caught
up on the others and walked abreast. 1000
PARWhen they have eaten the brawn and the bread and wiped their twenty
fingers in the paper the bread was wrapped in they go nearer to the railings.
PARSomething for you, the professor explained to Myles Crawford. Two old
Dublin women on the top of Nelson's pillar.
PARThat's new, Myles Crawford said. That's copy. Out for the waxies
Dargle. Two old trickies, what?
PARBut they are afraid the pillar will fall, Stephen went on. They see
the roofs
1010 |
PAREasy all, Myles Crawford said. No poetic licence. We're in the
archdiocese here.
PARAnd settle down on their striped petticoats, peering up at the statue
of the
onehandled adulterer.
PAROnehandled adulterer! the professor cried. I like that. I see the idea.
I see
what you mean.
1020 |
PARIt gives them a crick in their necks, Stephen said, and they are
too tired to
look up or down or to speak. They put the bag of plums between them and
eat the plums out of it, one after another, wiping off with their
handkerchiefs the plumjuice that dribbles out of their mouths and spitting
the plumstones slowly out between the railings.
PARHe gave a sudden loud young laugh as a close. Lenehan and Mr
O'Madden Burke, hearing, turned, beckoned and led on across towards
Mooney's.
1030 |
PARFinished? Myles Crawford said. So long as they do no worse.
PARYou remind me of Antisthenes, the professor said, a disciple of Gorgias,
the sophist. It is said of him that none could tell if he were bitterer
against
others or against himself. He was the son of a noble and a bondwoman.
And he wrote a book in which he took away the palm of beauty from
Argive Helen and handed it to poor Penelope.
PARPoor Penelope. Penelope Rich. PAR
1040
PARAt various points along the eight lines tramcars with motionless
trolleys stood in their tracks, bound for or from Rathmines, Rathfarnham,
Blackrock, Kingstown and Dalkey, Sandymount Green, Ringsend and
Sandymount Tower, Donnybrook, Palmerston Park and Upper Rathmines,
all still, becalmed in short circuit. Hackney cars, cabs, delivery waggons,
mailvans, private broughams, aerated mineral water floats with rattling
crates of bottles, rattled, rolled, horsedrawn, rapidly.
1050 |
PARBut what do you call it? Myles Crawford asked. Where did they get
the
plums?
PARCall it, wait,
the professor said, opening his long lips wide to
reflect. Call
it, let me see. Call it: Deus nobis haec otia fecit.
PARNo, Stephen said. I call it A Pisgah Sight of Palestine or The
Parable of
The Plums.
PARI see, the professor said.
1060 |
PARI see, he said again with new pleasure. Moses and the promised land.
We
gave him that idea, he added to J. J. O'Molloy.
PARJ. J. O'Molloy sent a weary sidelong glance towards the statue and
held his peace.
PARI see, the professor said.
PARHe halted on sir John Gray's pavement island and peered aloft at
Nelson through the meshes of his wry smile.
1070 |
PAROnehandled adulterer, he said smiling grimly. That tickles me, I
must
say.
PARTickled the old ones too,
Myles Crawford said, if the God Almighty's
truth was known.