will-o'-the-wisps and danger signals. Rows of grimy houses with
gaping doors. Rare lamps with faint rainbow fins. Round
Rabaiotti's halted ice gondola stunted men and women squabble.
They grab wafers between which are wedged lumps of coral and
copper snow. Sucking, they scatter slowly, children. The swancomb
of the gondola, highreared, forges on through the murk, white and
blue under a lighthouse. Whistles call and answer.)
Round behind the stable.
(A deafmute idiot with goggle eyes, his shapeless mouth dribbling,
(lifts a palsied left arm and gurgles) Ghahute!
Where's the great light?
(They release him. He jerks on. A pigmy woman swings on a rope
a rubbishtip crouches to shoulder a sack of rags and bones. A crone
standing by with a smoky oillamp rams her last bottle in the maw of
hobbles off mutely. The crone makes back for her lair, swaying her
lamp. A bandy child, asquat on the doorstep with a paper
shuttlecock, crawls sidling after her in spurts, clutches her skirt,
scrambles up. A drunken navvy grips with both hands the railings
of an area, lurching heavily. At a comer two night watch in
shouldercapes, their hands upon their staffholsters, loom tall. A
plate crashes: a woman screams: a child wails. Oaths of a man
roar, mutter, cease. Figures wander, lurk, peer from warrens. In a
room lit by a candle stuck in a bottleneck a slut combs out the tatts
young, sings shrill from a lane.)
I gave it to Molly
(Private Carr and Private Compton, swaggersticks tight in their
More luck to me. Cavan, Cootehill and Belturbet. (she sings)
I gave it to Nelly
(Private Carr and Private Compton turn and counterretort, their
(jerks his finger) Way for the parson.
(turns and calls) What ho, parson!.
(her voice soaring higher)
The leg of the duck.
the introit for paschal time. Lynch, his jockeycap low on his brow,
attends him, a sneer of discontent wrinkling his face.)
(The famished snaggletusks of an elderly bawd protrude from a
inside. Sst! .
(spits in their trail her jet of venom) Trinity medicals. Fallopian
(Edy Boardman, sniffling, crouched with Bertha Supple, draws her
squarepusher, the greaser off the railway, in his cometobed hat. Did you,
says I. That's not for you to say, says I. You never seen me in the mantrap
with a married highlander, says I. The likes of her! Stag that one is!
Stubborn as a mule! And her walking with two fellows the one time,
Kilbride, the enginedriver, and lancecorporal Oliphant.
(He flourishes his ashplant, shivering the lamp image, shattering
(looks behind) So that gesture, not music not odour, would be
allwisest Stagyrite was bitted, bridled and mounted by a light of love.
Damn your yellow stick. Where are we going?
(Stephen thrusts the ashplant on him and slowly holds out his
clasps to climb. The navvy lurches against the lamp. The twins
scuttle off in the dark. The navvy, swaying, presses a forefinger
against a wing of his nose and ejects from the farther nostril a long
liquid jet of snot. Shouldering the lamp he staggers away through
the crowd with his flaring cresset.
Snakes of river fog creep slowly. From drains, clefts, cesspools,
middens arise on all sides stagnant fumes. A glow leaps in the south
beyond the seaward reaches of the river. The navvy, staggering
panting, cramming bread and chocolate into a sidepocket. From
Gillen's hairdresser's window a composite portrait shows him
gallant Nelson 's image. A concave mirror at the side presents to him
lovelorn longlost lugubru Booloohoom. Grave Gladstone sees him
level, Bloom for Bloom. He passes, struck by the stare of truculent
Wellington, but in the convex mirror grin unstruck the bonham eyes
and fatchuck cheekchops of jollypoldy the rixdix doldy.
At Antonio Rabaiotti's door Bloom halts, sweated under the bright
(He disappears into Olhausen's, the porkbutcher's, under the
Stitch in my side. Why did I run?
(He takes breath with care and goes forward slowly towards the
What is that? A flasher? Searchlight.
(He stands at Cormack's corner, watching)
anyhow. Big blaze. Might be his house. Beggar's bush. We're safe. (he
hums cheerfully) London's burning, London's burning! On fire, on fire!
(he catches sight of the navvy lurching through the crowd at the farther
side of Talbot street) I'll miss him. Run. Quick. Better cross here.
(He darts to cross the road. Urchins shout.)
Mind out, mister!
(Two cyclists, with lighted paper lanterns aswing, swim by him,
(halts erect, stung by a spasm) Ow!
(He looks round, darts forward suddenly. Through rising fog a
Bang Bang Bla Bak Blud Bugg Bloo..
whitegloved hand, blunders stifflegged out of the track. The
motorman, thrown forward, pugnosed, on the guidewheel, yells as
he slides past over chains and keys.)
Hey, shitbreeches, are you doing the hat trick?
(Bloom trickleaps to the curbstone and halts again. He brushes a
accident too. The Providential. (he feels his trouser pocket) Poor
mamma's panacea. Heel easily catch in track or bootlace in a cog. Day the
wheel of the black Maria peeled off my shoe at Leonard's corner. Third
time is the charm. Shoe trick. Insolent driver. I ought to report him.
Tension makes them nervous. Might be the fellow balked me this morning
with that horsey woman. Same style of beauty. Quick of him all the same.
The stiff walk. True word spoken in jest. That awful cramp in Lad lane.
Something poisonous I ate. Emblem of luck. Why? Probably lost cattle.
Mark of the beast. (he closes his eyes an instant) Bit light in the head.
for me now. Ow! .
Buenas noches, senorita Blanca. Que calle es esta?
(impassive, raises a signal arm) Password. Sraid Mabbot.
by that fireeater. .
(He steps forward. A sackshouldered ragman bars his path. He
(He leaps right, sackragman right.)
(He swerves, sidles, stepaside, slips past and on.)
Keep to the right, right, right. If there is a signpost planted by the
(Jacky Caffrey, hunted by Tommy Caffrey, runs full tilt against
(Shocked, on weak hams, he halts. Tommy and Jacky vanish
Beware of pickpockets. Old thieves' dodge. Collide. Then snatch your
(The retriever approaches sniffing, nose to the ground. .
caftan of an elder in Zion and a smokingcap with magenta tassels.
poison streaks are on the drawn face.)
Second halfcrown waste money today. I told you not go with drunken goy
(hides the crubeen and trotter behind his back and, crestfallen,
What you making down this place? Have you no soul? (with feeble vulture
(with precaution) I suppose so, father. Mosenthal. All that's left of him.
(severely) One night they bring you home drunk as dog after spend
(in youth's smart blue Oxford suit with white vestslips, narrowshouldered,
Once! Mud head to foot. Cut your hand open. Lockjaw. They make you
(weakly) They challenged me to a sprint. It was muddy. I slipped.
(with contempt) Goim nachez! Nice spectacles for your poor mother!
(in pantomime dame's stringed mobcap, widow Twankey's crinoline and
(Bloom, mumbling, his eyes downcast, begins to bestow his parcels
Who? (he ducks and wards off a blow clumsily) At your service.
(He looks up. Beside her mirage of datepalms a handsome woman
Welly? Mrs Marion from this out, my dear man, when you speak to me.
(shifts from foot to foot) No, no. Not the least little bit.
(He breathes in deep agitation, swallowing gulps of air, questions,
(The camel, lifting a foreleg, plucks from a tree a large mango fruit,
I can give you ... I mean as your business menagerer .. Mrs Marion .....
So you notice some change? (her hands passing slowly over her trinketed
I was just going back for that lotion whitewax, orangeflower water.
(He points to the south, then to the east. A cake of new clean lemon
We're a capital couple are Bloom and I.
Three and a penny, please.
Yes. For my wife. Mrs Marion. Special recipe.
(In disdain she saunters away, humming the duet from Don
Are you sure about that Voglio? I mean the pronunciati .....
(He follows, followed by the sniffing terrier .
Ten shillings a maidenhead. Fresh thing was never touched. Fifteen.
Bridie Kelly stands.)
Hatch street. Any good in your mind?
(With a squeak she flaps her bat shawl and runs. A burly rough
(her wolfeyes shining) He's getting his pleasure. You won't get
a virgin in
(Leering, Gerty MacDowell limps forward. She draws from behind,
With all my worldly goods I thee and thou. (she murmurs) You
did that. I
l? When? You're dreaming. I never saw you.
the bedpost, hussy like you.
(to Bloom) When you saw all the secrets of my bottom drawer.
(She glides away crookedly. Mrs Breen in man's frieze overcoat
(coughs gravely) Madam, when we last had this pleasure by letter
Mr Bloom! You down here in the haunts of sin! I caught you nicely!
(hurriedly) Not so loud my name. Whatever do you think of me?
Rescue of fallen women. Magdalen asylum. I am the secretary .....
(holds up a finger) Now, don't tell a big fib! I know somebody
(looks behind) She often said she'd like to visit. Slumming.
The exotic, you
(Tom and Sam Bohee, coloured coons in white duck suits, scarlet
TOM AND SAM
(They whisk black masks from raw babby faces: then, chuckling,
(with a sour tenderish smile) A little frivol, shall we, if you
are so inclined?
(screams gaily) O, you ruck! You ought to see yourself!
For old sake' sake. I only meant a square party, a mixed marriage mingling
Glory Alice, you do look a holy show! Killing simply. (she puts out
(seizes her wrist with his free hand) Josie Powell that was,
prettiest deb in
You were the lion of the night with your seriocomic recitation and you
badge in his buttonhole, black bow and mother-of-pearl studs, a prismatic
champagne glass tilted in his hand) Ladies and gentlemen, I give you
Ireland, home and beauty.
The dear dead days beyond recall. Love's old sweet song.
(meaningfully dropping his voice) I confess I'm teapot with curiosity
all over me! (she rubs sides with him) After the parlour mystery games and
the crackers from the tree we sat on the staircase ottoman. Under the
mistletoe. Two is company.
(wearing a purple Napoleon hat with an amber halfmoon, his fingers
(in a onepiece evening frock executed in moonlight blue, a tinsel
When you made your present choice they said it was beauty and the beast.
(Denis Breen, whitetallhatted, with Wisdom Hely's sandwich-
(points jeering at the sandwichboards) U. p: up.
(to Bloom) High jinks below stairs. (she gives him the glad
(her pulpy tongue between her lips, offers a pigeon kiss) Hnhn.
(offhandedly) Kosher. A snack for supper. The home without potted
(Richie Goulding, three ladies' hats pinned on his head, appears
Best value in Dub.
(Bald Pat, bothered beetle, stands on the curbstone, folding his
Goodgod. Inev erate inall ....
(With hanging head he marches doggedly forward The navvy,
(with a cry of pain, his hand to his back) Ah! Bright's! Lights!
(points to the navvy) A spy. Don't attract attention. I hate
stupid crowds. I
Humbugging and deluthering as per usual with your cock and bull story.
I want to tell you a little secret about how I came to be here. But
(all agog) O, not for worlds.
Let's walk on. Shall us?
(The bawd makes an unheeded sign. Bloom walks on with Mrs
(in an oatmeal sporting suit, a sprig of woodbine in the lapel, tony
together to Fairyhouse races, was it?
I mean, Leopardstown. And Molly won seven shillings on a three year
eleven, a bit of wire and an old rag of velveteen, and I'll lay you what you
like she did it on purpose ....
She did, of course, the cat! Don't tell me! Nice adviser!
Because it didn't suit you one quarter as well as the other ducky little
(squeezes his arm, simpers) Naughty cruel I was!
(low, secretly, ever more rapidly) And Molly was eating a sandwich
mimicking a cock as we passed a farmhouse and Marcus Tertius Moses, the
tea merchant, drove past us in a gig with his daughter, Dancer Moses was
her name, and the poodle in her lap bridled up and you asked me if I ever
heard or read or knew or came across ....
(eagerly) Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes..
(She fades from his side. Followed by the whining dog he walks on =|BREa|=
with raucous humour. An armless pair of them flop wrestling,
growling, in maimed sodden playfight.)
(crouches, his voice twisted in his snout) And when Cairns came
(guffaw with cleft palates) O jays!
Coincidence too. They think it funny. Anything but that. Broad daylight.
Jays, that's a good one. Glauber salts. O jays, into the men's porter.
(Bloom passes. Cheap whores, singly, coupled, shawled, dishevelled,
How's your middle leg?
Got a match on you?
Eh, come here till I stiffen it for you.
(He plodges through their sump towards the lighted street beyond.
(belching) Where's the bloody house?
Purdon street. Shilling a bottle of stout. Respectable woman.
(gripping the two redcoats, staggers forward with them) Come
(behind his back) He aint half balmy.
(laughs) What ho!
We are the boys.
Say! What price the sergeantmajor?
Bennett? He's my pal. I love old Bennett.
The galling chain.
(He staggers forward, dragging them with him. .
Wildgoose chase this. Disorderly houses. Lord knows where they are gone.
for? Still, he's the best of that lot. If I hadn't heard about Mrs Beaufoy
Purefoy I wouldn't have gone and wouldn't have met. Kismet. He'll lose
that cash. Relieving office here. Good biz for cheapjacks, organs. What do
ye lack? Soon got, soon gone. Might have lost my life too with that man-
gongwheeltracktrolleyglarejuggernaut only for presence of mind. Can't
always save you, though. If I had passed Truelock's window that day two
minutes later would have been shot. Absence of body. Still if bullet only
went through my coat get damages for shock, five hundred pounds. What
was he? Kildare street club toff. God help his gamekeeper.
and a phallic design.) Odd! Molly drawing on the frosted carriagepane at
Kingstown. What's that like? .
of the sicksweet weed floats towards him in slow round ovalling wreaths.)
Sweet are the sweets. Sweets of sin..
(The retriever drives a cold snivelling muzzle against his hand, wagging his
tail.) Strange how they take to me. Even that brute today. Better speak to
him first. Like women they like rencontres. Stinks like a polecat. Chacun
son got. He might be mad. Dogdays. Uncertain in his movements. Good
fellow! Fido! Good fellow! Garryowen! (The wolfdog sprawls on his back,
wriggling obscenely with begging paws, his long black tongue lolling out.)
Influence of his surroundings. Give and have done with it. Provided
nobody. (Calling encouraging words he shambles back with a furtive
poacher's tread, dogged by the setter into a dark stalestunk corner. He
feels the trotter.) Sizeable for threepence. But then I have it in my left hand.
Calls for more effort. Why? Smaller from want of use. O, let it slide. Two
(With regret he lets the unrolled crubeen and trotter slide. The
Bloom. Of Bloom. For Bloom. Bloom.
Caught in the act. Commit no nuisance.
(stammers) I am doing good to others.
(A covey of gulls, storm petrels, rises hungrily from Liffey slime
Kaw kave kankury kake.
(He points. Bob Doran, toppling from a high barstool, sways over
Towser. Give us the paw. Give the paw.
(The bulldog growls, his scruff standing, a gobbet of pig's knuckle
Prevention of cruelty to animals.
(enthusiastically) A noble work! I scolded that tramdriver on
(Signor Maffei, passionpale, in liontamer's costume with diamond
was I broke in the bucking broncho Ajax with my patent spiked saddle for
carnivores. Lash under the belly with a knotted thong. Block tackle and a
strangling pulley will bring your lion to heel, no matter how fractious, even
Leo ferox there, the Libyan maneater. A redhot crowbar and some liniment
rubbing on the burning part produced Fritz of Amsterdam, the thinking
hyena. (he glares) I possess the Indian sign. The glint of my eye does it
with these breastsparklers. (with a bewitching smile) I now introduce
Mademoiselle Ruby, the pride of the ring.
I have forgotten for the moment. Ah, yes! (he takes off his high
(A card falls from inside the leather headband of Bloom's hat.)
of the Legion of Honour, picks up the card hastily and offers it) Allow me.
My club is the Junior Army and Navy. Solicitors: Messrs John Henry
Menton, 27 Bachelor's Walk.
An alibi. You are cautioned.
(produces from his heartpocket a crumpled yellow flower) This
(A dark mercurialised face appears, leading a veiled figure.)
THE DARK MERCURY
The Castle is looking for him. He was drummed out of the army.
(sternly) Come to the station.
(scared, hats himself, steps back, then, plucking at his heart and
medical men. By striking him dead with a hatchet. I am wrongfully
accused. Better one guilty escape than ninetynine wrongfully condemned.
(behind his hand) She's drunk. The woman is inebriated. (he
(tears in his eyes, to Bloom) You ought to be thoroughly well
Gentlemen of the jury, let me explain. A pure mare's nest. I am a man
the daughter of a most distinguished commander, a gallant upstanding
gentleman, what do you call him, Majorgeneral Brian Tweedy, one of
Britain's fighting men who helped to win our battles. Got his majority for
the heroic defence of Rorke's Drift.
homes, the pluckiest lads and the finest body of men, as physique, in the
service of our sovereign.
(his hand on the shoulder of the first watch) My old dad too
was a J. P.
nozzle again the bank.
Profession or trade.
Well, I follow a literary occupation, author-journalist. In fact we
(Myles Crawford strides out jerkily, a quill between his teeth. His
(his cock's wattles wagging) Hello, seventyseven eightfour. Hello.
(Mr Philip Beaufoy, palefaced, stands in the witnessbox, in accurate
(drawls) No, you aren't. Not by a long shot if I know it. I don't
(murmurs with hangdog meekness glum) That bit about the laughing
(his lip upcurled, smiles superciliously on the court) You funny
(indistinctly) University of life. Bad art.
(shouts) It's a damnably foul lie, showing the moral rottenness
of the man!
A VOICE FROM THE GALLERY
You low cad! You ought to be ducked in the horsepond, you rotter! (to
(to the court) And he, a bachelor, how...
The King versus Bloom. Call the woman Driscoll.
Mary Driscoll, scullerymaid!
(Mary Driscoll, a slipshod servant girl, approaches. She has a
Another! Are you of the unfortunate class?
chances with Fridays out and I had to leave owing to his carryings on.
What do you tax him with?
He made a certain suggestion but I thought more of myself as poor as I am.
(in housejacket of ripplecloth, flannel trousers, heelless slippers,
(excitedly) As God is looking down on me this night if ever I
laid a hand to
The offence complained of? Did something happen?
He surprised me in the rere of the premises, Your honour, when the missus
(scornfully) I had more respect for the scouringbrush, so I had.
(clerk of the crown and peace, resonantly) Order in court! The
begins a long unintelligible speech. They would hear what counsel
had to say in his stirring address to the grand jury. He was down
and out but, though branded as a black sheep, if he might say so, he
meant to reform, to retrieve the memory of the past in a purely
sisterly way and return to nature as a purely domestic animal. A
sevenmonths' child, he had been carefully brought up and nurtured
(Renewed laughter. He mumbles incoherently. Reporters complain
LONGHAND AND SHORTHAND
(without looking up from their notebooks) Loosen his boots.
(The crossexamination proceeds re Bloom and the bucket. A
(in barrister's grey wig and stuffgown, speaking with a voice of
aberration of heredity, brought on by hallucination, such familiarities as the
alleged guilty occurrence being quite permitted in my client's native place,
the land of the Pharaoh. Prima facie, I put it to you that there was no
complained of by Driscoll, that her virtue was solicited, was not repeated. I
would deal in especial with atavism. There have been cases of shipwreck
and somnambulism in my client's family. If the accused could speak he
could a tale unfold - one of the strangest that have ever been narrated
between the covers of a book. He himself, my lord, is a physical wreck from
cobbler's weak chest. His submission is that he is of Mongolian extraction
and irresponsible for his actions. Not all there, in fact.
(Barefoot, pigeonbreasted, in lascar's vest and trousers, apologetic
Li li poo lil chile
(He is howled down.)
J. J. O'MOLLOY
and laughing hyenas. The Mosaic code has superseded the law of the
jungle. I say it and I say it emphatically, without wishing for one moment to
defeat the ends of justice, accused was not accessory before the act and
prosecutrix has not been tampered with. The young person was treated by
defendant as if she were his very own daughter. (Bloom takes J. J.
O'Molloy's hand and raises it to his lips) I shall call rebutting evidence to
prove up to the hilt that the hidden hand is again at its old game. When in
doubt persecute Bloom. My client, an innately bashful man, would be the
last man in the world to do anything ungentlemanly which injured modesty
some dastard, responsible for her condition, had worked his own sweet will
on her. He wants to go straight. I regard him as the whitest man I know.
He is down on his luck at present owing to the mortgaging of his extensive
property at Agendath Netaim in faraway Asia Minor, slides of which will
now be shown. (to Bloom) I suggest that you will do the handsome thing.
A penny in the pound.
(The image of the lake of Kinnereth with blurred cattle cropping
(hoarsely) Bleibtreustrasse, Berlin, W. 13.
(J. J. O'Molloy steps on to a low plinth and holds the lapel of his
(almost voicelessly) Excuse me. I am suffering from a severe
(A paper with something written on it is handed into court.)
Wisdom Hely J. P. My old chief Joe Cuffe. Mr V. B. Dillon, ex lord mayor
of Dublin. I have moved in the charmed circle of the highest .... Queens of
Dublin society. (carelessly) I was just chatting this afternoon at the
viceregal lodge to my old pals, sir Robert and lady Ball, astronomer royal
at the levee. Sir Bob, I said ......
MRS YELVERTON BARRY
(in lowcorsaged opal balldress and elbowlength ivory gloves, wearing
Tipperary on the Munster circuit, signed James Lovebirch. He said that he
had seen from the gods my peerless globes as I sat in a box of the Theatre
Royal at a command performance of La Cigale. I deeply inflamed him, he
said. He made improper overtures to me to misconduct myself at half past
four p.m. on the following Thursday, Dunsink time. He offered to send me
through the post a work of fiction by Monsieur Paul de Kock, entitled The
Girl with the Three Pairs of Stays.
(in cap and seal coney mantle, wrapped up to the nose, steps out
MRS YELVERTON BARRY
(A crowd of sluts and ragamuffins surges forward)
(produces handcuffs) Here are the darbies.
Venus in furs and alleged profound pity for my frostbound coachman
Palmer while in the same breath he expressed himself as envious of his
earflaps and fleecy sheepskins and of his fortunate proximity to my person,
when standing behind my chair wearing my livery and the armorial
bearings of the Bellingham escutcheon garnished sable, a buck's head
couped or. He lauded almost extravagantly my nether extremities, my
swelling calves in silk hose drawn up to the limit, and eulogised glowingly
my other hidden treasures in priceless lace which, he said, he could conjure
up. He urged me (stating that he felt it his mission in life to urge me) to
THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS
(in amazon costume, hard hat, jackboots cockspurred, vermilion waistcoat,
hackney car and sent me in double envelopes an obscene photograph, such
as are sold after dark on Paris boulevards, insulting to any lady. I have it
still. It represents a partially nude senorita, frail and lovely (his wife, as he
solemnly assured me, taken by him from nature), practising illicit
intercourse with a muscular torero, evidently a blackguard. He urged me to
do likewise, to misbehave, to sin with officers of the garrison. He implored
me to soil his letter in an unspeakable manner, to chastise him as he richly
deserves, to bestride and ride him, to give him a most vicious
MRS YELVERTON BARRY
(Several highly respectable Dublin ladies hold up improper letters
THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS
(stamps her jingling spurs in a sudden paroxysm of fury) I will,
(his eyes closing, quails expectantly) Here? (he squirms)
Again! (he pants
THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS
Tan his breech well, the upstart! Write the stars and stripes on it!
MRS YELVERTON BARRY
Disgraceful! There's no excuse for him! A married man!
without effusion. Refined birching to stimulate the circulation.
THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS
(laughs derisively) O, did you, my fine fellow? Well, by the
(shuddering, shrinking, joins his hands: with hangdog mien) O
MRS YELVERTON BARRY
(severely) Don't do so on any account, Mrs Talboys! He should
THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS
black and blue in the public streets. I'll dig my spurs in him up to the rowel.
He is a wellknown cuckold. (she swishes her huntingcrop savagely in the
air) Take down his trousers without loss of time. Come here, sir! Quick!
(trembling, beginning to obey) The weather has been so warm.
(Davy Stephens, ringletted, passes with a bevy of barefoot
DAVY STEPHEN S
Day supplement. Containing the new addresses of all the cuckolds in
(The very reverend Canon O'Hanlon in cloth of gold cope elevates
(The brass quoits of a bed are heard to jingle.)
Jigjag. Jigajiga. Jigjag.
(A panel of fog rolls back rapidly, revealing rapidly in the jurybox
THE NAMELESS ONE
(all their heads turned to his voice) Really?
THE NAMELESS ONE
(all their heads lowered in assent) Most of us thought as much.
(loudly) Whereas Leopold Bloom of no fixed abode is a wellknown
(His Honour, sir Frederick Falkiner, recorder of Dublin, in judicial
I will put an end to this white slave traffic and rid Dublin of this
John Fanning appears, smoking a pungent Henry Clay.)
LONG JOHN FANNING
(scowls and calls with rich rolling utterance) Who'll hang Judas Iscariot?
(H. Rumbold, master barber, in a bloodcoloured jerkin and
(to the recorder with sinister familiarity) Hanging Harry, your
(The bells of George's church toll slowly, loud dark iron.)
(desperately) Wait. Stop. Gulls. Good heart. I saw. Innocence.
Girl in the
(coldly) You are a perfect stranger.
(points to the corner) The bomb is here.
Infernal machine with a time fuse.
No, no. Pig's feet. I was at a funeral.
(draws his truncheon) Liar!
Paddy Dignam. He has gnawed all. He exhales a putrid carcasefed
breath. He grows to human size and shape. His dachshund coat
becomes a brown mortuary habit His green eye flashes bloodshot
Half of one ear, all the nose and both thumbs are ghouleaten.)
(in a hollow voice) It is true. It was my funeral. Doctor Finucane
(He lifts his mutilated ashen face moonwards and bays
(in triumph) You hear?
Bloom, I am Paddy Dignam's spirit. List, list, O list!
The voice is the voice of Esau.
(blesses himself) How is that possible?
By metempsychosis. Spooks.
(earnestly) Once I was in the employ of Mr J. H. Menton, solicitor,
buttermilk didn't agree with me.
(The portly figure of John O'Connell, caretaker, stands forth,
(with pricked up ears, winces) Overtones. (he wriggles forward
(Paddy Dignam listens with visible effort, thinking, his tail
(He worms down through a coalhole, his brown habit trailing its
(He executes a daredevil salmon leap in the air and is engulfed in
lighted house, listening. .
(They rustle, flutter upon his garments, alight, bright giddy flecks,
A man's touch. Sad music. Church music. Perhaps here.
(Zoe Higgins, a young whore in a sapphire slip, closed with three
Are you looking for someone? He's inside with his friend.
No, eightyone. Mrs Cohen's. You might go farther and fare worse. Mother
(His skin, alert, feels her fingertips approach. A hand glides over
How's the nuts?
Off side. Curiously they are on the right. Heavier, I suppose. One in
(in sudden alarm) You've a hard chancre.
I feel it.
(Her hand slides into his left trouser pocket and brings out a hard
A talisman. Heirloom.
For Zoe? For keeps? For being so nice, eh?
(She puts the potato greedily into a pocket then links his arm,
her eyes, ringed with kohol. His smile softens.)
You'll know me the next time.
(forlornly) I never loved a dear gazelle but it was sure to ....
(Gazelles are leaping, feeding on the mountains. Near are lakes.
(murmuring singsong with the music, her odalisk lips lusciously smeared
(fascinated) I thought you were of good stock by your accent.
And you know what thought did?
(She bites his ear gently with little goldstopped teeth, sending
(draws back, mechanically caressing her right bub with a flat awkward
(catches a stray hair deftly and twists it to her coil) No bloody
Go on. Make a stump speech out of it..
(in workman's corduroy overalls, black gansy with red floating tie
All our habits. Why, look at our public life!
(Midnight chimes from distant steeples.)
Turn again, Leopold! Lord mayor of Dublin!
(in alderman's gown and chain) Electors of Arran Quay, Inns Quay,
Three times three for our future chief magistrate!
(The aurora borealis of the torchlight procession leaps.)
(Several wellknown burgesses, city magnates and freemen of the
LATE LORD MAYOR HARRINGTON
(in scarlet robe with mace, gold mayoral chain and large white silk
COUNCILLOR LORCAN SHERLOCK
in their upholstered poop, casting dice, what reck they? Machines is their
cry, their chimera, their panacea. Laboursaving apparatuses, supplanters,
bugbears, manufactured monsters for mutual murder, hideous hobgoblins
produced by a horde of capitalistic lusts upon our prostituted labour. The
poor man starves while they are grassing their royal mountain stags or
shooting peasants and phartridges in their purblind pomp of pelf and
power. But their reign is rover for rever and ever and ev ...
(Prolonged applause. Venetian masts, maypoles and festal arches
bootjack manufacturers, undertakers, silk mercers, lapidaries,
salesmasters, corkcutters, assessors of fire losses, dyers and cleaners,
export bottlers, fellmongers, ticketwriters, heraldic seal engravers,
horse repository hands, bullion brokers, cricket and archery
outfitters, riddlemakers, egg and potato factors, hosiers and glovers,
plumbing contractors. After them march gentlemen of the
bedchamber, Black Rod, Deputy Garter, Gold Stick, the master of
horse, the lord great chamberlain, the earl marshal, the high
constable carrying the sword of state, saint Stephen's iron crown,
reply, winding clarions of welcome. Under an arch of triumph
Bloom appears, bareheaded, in a crimson velvet mantle trimmed
with ermine, bearing Saint Edward's staff the orb and sceptre with
the dove, the curtana. He is seated on a milkwhite horse with long
flowing crimson tail, richly caparisoned, with golden headstall. Wild
excitement. The ladies from their balconies throw down rosepetals.
The air is perfumed with essences. The men cheer. Bloom's boys
run amid the bystanders with branches of hawthorn and
The wren, the wren,
(murmurs) For the honour of God! And is that Bloom? He scarcely
A PAVIOR AND FLAGGER
That's the famous Bloom now, the world's greatest reformer. Hats off!
(richly) Isn't he simply wonderful?
(nobly) All that man has seen!
(masculinely) And done!
A classic face! He has the forehead of a thinker.
(Bloom's weather. A sunburst appears in the northwest.)
THE BISHOP OF DOWN AND CONNOR
I here present your undoubted emperor-president and king-chairman, the
God save Leopold the First!
(in dalmatic and purple mantle, to the bishop of Down and Connor,
(in purple stock and shovel hat) Will you to your power cause
(placing his right hand on his testicles, swears) So may the
MICHAEL, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH
(Bloom assumes a mantle of cloth of gold and puts on a ruby ring
Mirus bazaar fireworks go up from all sides with symbolical
I do become your liege man of life and limb to earthly worship.
diamond. His palfrey neighs. Immediate silence. Wireless
intercontinental and interplanetary transmitters are set for reception
My subjects! We hereby nominate our faithful charger Copula Felix
(The former morganatic spouse of Bloom is hastily removed in the
JOHN HOWARD PARNELL
(raises the royal standard) Illustrious Bloom! Successor to my
(embraces John Howard Parnell) We thank you from our heart, John,
The keys of Dublin, crossed on a crimson cushion, are given to him.
He shows all that he is wearing green socks.)
You deserve it, your honour.
On this day twenty years ago we overcame the hereditary enemy at
Bonafide Sabaoth, sabred the Saracen gunners to a man.
THE CHAPEL OF FREEMAN TYPESETTERS
JOHN WYSE NOLAN
There's the man that got away James Stephens.
A BLUECOAT SCHOOLBOY
AN OLD RESIDENT
You're a credit to your country, sir, that's what you are.
He's a man like Ireland wants.
My beloved subjects, a new era is about to dawn. I, Bloom, tell you
(Thirtytwo workmen, wearing rosettes, from all the counties of
(dying) Morituri te salutant. (they die)
(A man in a brown macintosh springs up through a trapdoor. He
THE MAN IN THE MACINTOSH
Don't you believe a word he says. That man is Leopold M'Intosh, the
Shoot him! Dog of a christian! So much for M'Intosh!
(A cannonshot. The man in the macintosh disappears. Bloom with
Little father! Little father!
THE BABES AND SUCKLINGS
Clap clap hands till Poldy comes home,
(Bloom, bending down, pokes Baby Boardman gently in the
(hiccups, curdled milk flowing from his mouth) Hajajaja.
(shaking hands with a blind stripling) My more than Brother!
(choked with emotion, brushes aside a tear in his emerald muffler)
(uncloaks impressively, revealing obesity, unrolls a paper and reads
(An official translation is read by Jimmy Henry, assistant town
administer open air justice. Free medical and legal advice, solution of
doubles and other problems. All cordially invited. Given at this our loyal
city of Dublin in the year I of the Paradisiacal Era.
What am I to do about my rates and taxes?
Pay them, my friend.
Can I raise a mortgage on my fire insurance?
(obdurately) Sirs, take notice that by the law of torts you are
J. J. O'MOLLOY
A Daniel did I say? Nay! A Peter O'Brien!
Where do I draw the five pounds?
Acid. nit. hydrochlor. dil., 20 minims
What is the parallax of the subsolar ecliptic of Aldebaran?
Pleased to hear from you, Chris. K. II.
Why aren't you in uniform?
When my progenitor of sainted memory wore the uniform of the Austrian
Embellish (beautify) suburban gardens.
Father (pater, dad) starts thinking.
An eightday licence for my new premises. You remember me, sir Leo, when
(coldly) You have the advantage of me. Lady Bloom accepts no presents.
(solemnly) You call it a festivity. I call it a sacrament.
When will we have our own house of keys?
I stand for the reform of municipal morals and the plain ten
must now cease. General amnesty, weekly carnival with masked licence,
bonuses for all, esperanto the universal language with universal
brotherhood. No more patriotism of barspongers and dropsical impostors.
Free money, free rent, free love and a free lay church in a free lay state.
Free fox in a free henroost.
What about mixed bathing?
(Bloom explains to those near him his schemes for social
He is an episcopalian, an agnostic, an anythingarian seeking to overthrow
(tears up her will) I'm disappointed in you! You bad man!
(removes her boot to throw it at Bloom) You beast! You abominable
Give us a tune, Bloom. One of the old sweet songs.
(with rollicking humour)
I vowed that I never would leave her,
Good old Bloom! There's nobody like him after all.
What railway opera is like a tramline in Gibraltar? The Rows of Casteele.
Plagiarist! Down with Bloom!
THE VEILED SIBYL
(enthusiastically) I'm a Bloomite and I glory in it. I believe
in him in spite
(in fishingcap and oilskin jacket) He employs a mechanical device
THE VEILED SIBYL
(stabs herself) My hero god! (she dies)
(Many most attractive and enthusiastic women also commit suicide
ALEXANDER J DOWIE
(violently) Fellowchristians and antiBloomites, the man called
boiling oil are for him. Caliban!
Lynch him! Roast him! He's as bad as Parnell was. Mr Fox!
(Mother Grogan throws her boot at Bloom. Several shopkeepers
is my double. He lives in number 2 Dolphin's Barn. Slander, the viper, has
wrongfully accused me. Fellowcountrymen, sgeul i mbarr bata coisde gan
capall. I call on my old friend, Dr Malachi Mulligan, sex specialist, to give
medical testimony on my behalf.
(in motor jerkin, green motorgoggles on his brow) Dr Bloom is
exhibitionism. Ambidexterity is also latent. He is prematurely bald from
selfabuse, perversely idealistic in consequence, a reformed rake, and has
metal teeth. In consequence of a family complex he has temporarily lost his
memory and I believe him to be more sinned against than sinning. I have
made a pervaginal examination and, after application of the acid test to
5427 anal, axillary, pectoral and pubic hairs, I declare him to be virgo
(Bloom holds his high grade hat over his genital organs.)
Hypsospadia is also marked. In the interest of coming generations I
I have examined the patient's urine. It is albuminoid. Salivation is
DR PUNCH COSTELLO
The fetor judaicus is most perceptible.
womanly man. His moral nature is simple and lovable. Many have found
him a dear man, a dear person. He is a rather quaint fellow on the whole,
coy though not feebleminded in the medical sense. He has written a really
beautiful letter, a poem in itself, to the court missionary of the Reformed
Priests' Protection Society which clears up everything. He is practically a
total abstainer and I can affirm that he sleeps on a straw litter and eats the
most Spartan food, cold dried grocer's peas. He wears a hairshirt of pure
Irish manufacture winter and summer and scourges himself every
Saturday. He was, I understand, at one time a firstclass misdemeanant in
child. I appeal for clemency in the name of the most sacred word our vocal
organs have ever been called upon to speak. He is about to have a baby.
(General commotion and compassion. Women faint. A wealthy
O, I so want to be a mother.
(in nursetender's gown) Embrace me tight, dear. You'll be soon
(Bloom embraces her tightly and bears eight male yellow and white
Bloom, are you the Messiah ben Joseph or ben David?
(darkly) You have said it.
Prophesy who will win the Saint Leger.
(Bloom walks on a net, covers his left eye with his left ear, passes
BRINI, PAPAL NUNCIO
(in papal zouave's uniform, steel cuirasses as breastplate, armplates,
and MacKay begat Ostrolopsky and Ostrolopsky begat Smerdoz and
Smerdoz begat Weiss and Weiss begat Schwarz and Schwarz begat
Adrianopoli and Adrianopoli begat Aranjuez and Aranjuez begat Lewy
Lawson and Lewy Lawson begat Ichabudonosor and Ichabudonosor begat
O'Donnell Magnus and O'Donnell Magnus begat Christbaum and
Christbaum begat ben Maimun and ben Maimun begat Dusty Rhodes and
Dusty Rhodes begat Benamor and Benamor begat Jones-Smith and
Jones-Smith begat Savorgnanovich and Savorgnanovich begat Jasperstone
and Jasperstone begat Vingtetunieme and Vingtetunieme begat
vocabitur nomen eius Emmanuel.
(writes on the wall) Bloom is a cod.
(in bushranger's kit) What did you do in the cattlecreep behind
A FEMALE INFANT
(shakes a rattle) And under Ballybough bridge?
And in the devil's glen?
(blushes furiously all over from frons to nates, three tears filling
THE IRISH EVICTED TENANTS
(in bodycoats, kneebreeches, with Donnybrook fair shillelaghs)
(Bloom with asses' ears seats himself in the pillory with crossed
THE ARTANE ORPHANS
You hig, you hog, you dirty dog!
THE PRISON GATE GIRLS
If you see Kay
(in ephod and huntingcap, announces) And he shall carry the sins
(All the people cast soft pantomime stones at Bloom. Many bonafide
(George R Mesias, Bloom's tailor, appears, a tailor's goose under
To alteration one pair trousers eleven shillings.
(rubs his hands cheerfully) Just like old times. Poor Bloom!
(Reuben J Dodd, blackbearded Iscariot, bad shepherd, bearing on
(whispers hoarsely) The squeak is out. A split is gone for the
THE FIRE BRIGADE
(Invests Bloom in a yellow habit with embroidery of painted flames
(Lieutenant Myers of the Dublin Fire Brigade by general request
(in a seamless garment marked I. H. S. stands upright amid phoenix
(The daughters of Erin, in black garments, with large prayerbooks
Flower of the Bath, pray for us
Mentor of Menton, pray for us
Canvasser for the Freeman, pray for us
Charitable Mason, pray for us
Wandering Soap, pray for us
Sweets of Sin, pray for us
Music without Words, pray for us
Reprover of the Citizen, pray for us
Friend of all Frillies, pray for us
Potato Preservative against Plague and Pestilence, pray for us.
(A choir of six hundred voices, conducted by Vincent O'Brien,
Talk away till you're black in the face.
(in caubeen with clay pipe stuck in the band, dusty brogues, an emigrant's
best girl. O, I can read your thoughts!
(bitterly) Man and woman, love, what is it? A cork and bottle.
I'm sick of
(in sudden sulks) I hate a rotter that's insincere. Give a bleeding
(glibly) Hog's Norton where the pigs plays the organs. I'm Yorkshire
(smiles, nods slowly) More, houri, more.
(feeling his occiput dubiously with the unparalleled embarrassment
(flattered) What the eye can't see the heart can't grieve for.
(she pats him)
(in babylinen and pelisse, bigheaded, with a caul of dark hair, fixes
Love me. Love me not. Love me.
forefinger giving to his palm the passtouch of secret monitor, luring him to
doom.) Hot hands cold gizzard.
(He hesitates amid scents, music, temptations. She leads him
THE MALE BRUTES
(exhaling sulphur of rut and dung and ramping in their loosebox,
seated. They examine him curiously from under their pencilled
brows and smile to his hasty bow. He trips awkwardly.)
(her lucky hand instantly saving him) Hoopsa! Don't fall upstairs.
The just man falls seven times. (he stands aside at the threshold)
Ladies first, gentlemen after.
her hands, draws him over. He hops. On the antlered rack of the
hall hang a man 's hat and waterproof. Bloom uncovers himself but,
seeing them, frowns, then smiles, preoccupied. A door on the return
landing is flung open. A man in purple shirt and grey trousers,
brownsocked, passes with an ape's gait, his bald head and goatee
beard upheld, hugging a full waterjugjar, his twotailed black braces
dangling at heels. Averting his face quickly Bloom bends to examine
on the halltable the spaniel eyes of a running fox: then, his lifted
head sniffing, follows Zoe into the musicroom. A shade of mauve
moth flies, colliding, escaping. The floor is covered with an oilcloth
mosaic of jade and azure and cinnabar rhomboids. Footmarks are
stamped over it in all senses, heel to heel, heel to hollow, toe to toe,
feet locked, a morris of shuffling feet without body phantoms, all
hand, sits perched on the edge of the table swinging her leg and
glancing at herself in the gilt mirror over the mantelpiece. A tag of
her corsetlace hangs slightly below her jacket Lynch indicates
mockingly the couple at the piano.)
(coughs behind her hand) She's a bit imbecillic. (she signs with
More limelight, Charley. (she goes to the chandelier and turns the
(peers at the gasjet) What ails it tonight?
(deeply) Enter a ghost and hobgoblins.
Clap on the back for Zoe.
at the pianola on which sprawl his hat and ashplant. With two
fingers he repeats once more the series of empty fifths. Florry
Talbot, a blond feeble goosefat whore in a tatterdemalion gown of
mildewed strawberry, lolls spreadeagle in the sofacorner, her limp
forearm pendent over the bolster, listening. A heavy stye droops
over her sleepy eyelid.)
(hiccups again with a kick of her horsed foot) O, excuse!
(Kitty Ricketts bends her head. Her boa uncoils, slides, glides over
As a matter of fact it is of no importance whether Benedetto Marcello
saying Ceres' altar and David's tip from the stable to his chief bassoonist
about the alrightness of his almightiness. Mais nom de nom, that is another
pair of trousers. Jetez la gourme. Faut que jeunesse se passe. (he stops, points
at Lynch's cap, smiles, laughs) Which side is your knowledge bump? .
(with saturnine spleen) Ba! It is because it is. Woman's reason.
Here's another for you. (he frowns) The reason is because the
Which? Finish. You can't.
with. The ultimate return. The octave. Which.
(Outside the gramophone begins to blare The Holy City.)
(abruptly) What went forth to the ends of the world to traverse
(with a mocking whinny of laughter grins at Bloom and Zoe Higgins)
(briskly) God help your head, he knows more than you have forgotten.
(With obese stupidity Florry Talbot regards Stephen.)
They say the last day is coming this summer.
(explodes in laughter) Great unjust God!
(offended) Well, it was in the papers about Antichrist. O, my
(Ragged barefoot newsboys, jogging a wagtail kite, patter past,
(Stephen turns and sees Bloom.)
A time, times and half a time..
(Reuben I Antichrist, wandering jew, a clutching hand open on his
(his jaws chattering, capers to and fro, goggling his eyes, squeaking,
(sinking into torpor, crossing herself secretly) The end of the world!
(A female tepid effluvium leaks out from her. Nebulous obscurity
Open your gates and sing
(A rocket rushes up the sky and bursts. A white star fills from it,
THE END OF THE WORLD
(Over the possing drift and choking breathcoughs, Elijah's voice,
mother you'll be there. Rush your order and you play a slick ace. Join on
right here. Book through to eternity junction, the nonstop run. Just one
word more. Are you a god or a doggone clod? If the second advent came to
Coney Island are we ready? Florry Christ, Stephen Christ, Zoe Christ,
Bloom Christ, Kitty Christ, Lynch Christ, it's up to you to sense that cosmic
force. Have we cold feet about the cosmos? No. Be on the side of the
angels. Be a prism. You have that something within, the higher self. You can
rub shoulders with a Jesus, a Gautama, an Ingersoll. Are you all in this
vibration? I say you are. You once nobble that, congregation, and a buck
sure. The hottest stuff ever was. It's the whole pie with jam in. It's just the
cutest snappiest line out. It is immense, supersumptuous. It restores. It
vibrates. I know and I am some vibrator. Joking apart and, getting down to
bedrock, A. J. Christ Dowie and the harmonial philosophy, have you got
that? O. K. Seventyseven west sixtyninth street. Got me? That's it. You call
me up by sunphone any old time. Bumboosers, save your stamps. (he
shouts) Now then our glory song. All join heartily in the singing. Encore!
(he sings) Jeru ....
gratingly against the needle)
THE THREE WHORES
(covering their ears, squawk) Ahhkkk!
(in rolledup shirtsleeves, black in the face,shouts at the top of
President. I certainly am thinking now Miss Higgins and Miss Ricketts got
religion way inside them. Certainly seems to me I don't never see no wusser
you. Mr President, you come long and help me save our sisters dear. (he
winks at his audience) Our Mr President, he twig the whole lot and he aint
I forgot myself. In a weak moment I erred and did what I did on
It was in consequence of a portwine beverage on top of Hennessy's three
In the beginning was the word, in the end the world without end. Blessed
(The beatitudes, Dixon, Madden, Crotthers, Costello, Lenehan,
(incoherently) Beer beef battledog buybull businum barnum buggerum
(in quakergrey kneebreeches and broadbrimmed hat, says discreetly)
(He corantos by. Best enters in hairdresser's attire, shinily
bristles a pigtail toupee tied with an orange topknot) I was just beautifying
him, don't you know. A thing of beauty, don't you know, Yeats says, or I
mean, Keats says.
(produces a greencapped dark lantern and flashes it towards a corner:
(In the cone of the searchlight behind the coalscuttle, ollave,
(with a voice of waves) Aum! Hek! Wal! Ak! Lub! Mor! Ma! White
(A skeleton judashand strangles the light. The green light wanes
(Zoe runs to the chandelier and, crooking her leg, adjusts the
Who has a fag as I'm here?
(tossing a cigarette on to the table) Here.
(her head perched aside in mock pride) Is that the way to hand
the pot to
I'm not looking
(makes sheep's eyes) No? You wouldn't do a less thing. Would
you suck a
(Squinting in mock shame she glances with sidelong meaning at
pink stilts. He is sausaged into several overcoats and wears a brown
macintosh under which he holds a roll of parchment. In his left eye
flashes the monocle of Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall
Farrell. On his head is perched an Egyptian pshent Two quills
project over his ears.)
coughs thoughtfully, drily) Promiscuous nakedness is much in evidence
hereabouts, eh? Inadvertently her backview revealed the fact that she is not
wearing those rather intimate garments of which you are a particular
devotee. The injection mark on the thigh I hope you perceived? Good.
Granpapachi. But .....
to say. Correct me but I always understood that the act so performed by
skittish humans with glimpses of lingerie appealed to you in virtue of its
exhibitionististicicity. In a word. Hippogriff. Am I right?
She is rather lean.
(not unpleasantly) Absolutely! Well observed and those pannier
dustspecks. Never put on you tomorrow what you can wear today.
Parallax! (with a nervous twitch of his head) Did you hear my brain go
(an elbow resting in a hand, a forefinger against his cheek) She seems sad.
(cynically, his weasel teeth bared yellow, draws down his left eye
genially) Well then, permit me to draw your attention to item number three.
There is plenty of her visible to the naked eye. Observe the mass of
oxygenated vegetable matter on her skull. What ho, she bumps! The ugly
duckling of the party, longcasted and deep in keel.
(regretfully) When you come out without your gun.
We can do you all brands, mild, medium and strong. Pay your money, take
(his tongue upcurling) Lyum! Look. Her beam is broad. She is
with fennygreek and gumbenjamin swamped down by potions of green tea
endow them during their brief existence with natural pincushions of quite
colossal blubber. That suits your book, eh? Fleshhotpots of Egypt to
The stye I dislike.
(arches his eyebrows) Contact with a goldring, they say. Argumentum
(reflecting) Wheatenmeal with lycopodium and syllabax. This searching
(severely, his nose hardhumped, his side eye winking) Stop twirling
Rosemary also did I understand you to say or willpower over parasitic
energetically) This book tells you how to act with all descriptive
particulars. Consult index for agitated fear of aconite, melancholy of
muriatic, priapic pulsatilla. Virag is going to talk about amputation. Our
old friend caustic. They must be starved. Snip off with horsehair under the
denned neck. But, to change the venue to the Bulgar and the Basque, have
you made up your mind whether you like or dislike women in male
habiliments? (with a dry snigger) You intended to devote an entire year to
the study of the religious problem and the summer months of 1886 to
square the circle and win that million. Pomegranate! From the sublime to
knickers, closed? Or, put we the case, those complicated combinations,
camiknickers? (he crows derisively) Keekeereekee!
veiled mauve light, hearing the everflying moth.)
I wanted then to have now concluded. Nightdress was never. Hence this.
in reiterated coition, lured by the smell of the inferiorly pulchritudinous
fumale possessing extendified pudendal nerve in dorsal region. Pretty Poll!
(his yellow parrotbeak gabbles nasally) They had a proverb in the
Carpathians in or about the year five thousand five hundred and fifty of our
era. One tablespoonful of honey will attract friend Bruin more than half a
dozen barrels of first choice malt vinegar. Bear's buzz bothers bees. But of
this apart. At another time we may resume. We were very pleased, we
others. (he coughs and, bending his brow, rubs his nose thoughtfully with a
scooping hand) You shall find that these night insects follow the light. An
points see the seventeenth book of my Fundamentals of Sexology or the
Love Passion which Doctor L. B. says is the book sensation of the year.
Some, to example, there are again whose movements are automatic.
Perceive. That is his appropriate sun. Nightbird nightsun nighttown. Chase
me, Charley! (he blows into Bloom's ear) Buzz!
Bee or bluebottle too other day butting shadow on wall dazed self then
his fly or mustard plaster on his dibble. (he gobbles gluttonously with
turkey wattles) Bubbly jock! Bubbly jock! Where are we? Open Sesame!
Cometh forth! (he unrolls his parchment rapidly and reads, his
glowworm's nose running backwards over the letters which he claws) Stay,
good friend. I bring thee thy answer. Redbank oysters will shortly be upon
us. I'm the best o'cook. Those succulent bivalves may help us and the
truffles of Perigord, tubers dislodged through mister omnivorous porker,
were unsurpassed in cases of nervous debility or viragitis. Though they
stink yet they sting. (he wags his head with cackling raillery) Jocular. With
(absently) Ocularly woman's bivalve case is worse. Always open
(his mouth projected in hard wrinkles, eyes stonily forlornly closed,
I am going to scream. I beg your pardon. Ah? So. (he repeats)
O, I much fear he shall be most badly burned. Will some pleashe pershon
not now impediment so catastrophics mit agitation of firstclass
tablenumpkin? (he mews) Puss puss puss puss! (he sighs, draws back and
stares sideways down with dropping underjaw) Well, well. He doth rest
anon. (he snaps his jaws suddenly on the air)
Now I do this kind of thing
On the wing, on the wing!
(he rushes against the mauve shade, flapping noisily)
Pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty petticoats.
(From left upper entrance with two gliding steps Henry Flower
silverbuckled pumps. He has the romantic Saviour's face with
flowing locks, thin beard and moustache. His spindlelegs and
sparrow feet are those of the tenor Mario, prince of Candia. He
settles down his goffered ruffs and moistens his lips with a passage
of his amorous tongue.)
(in a low dulcet voice, touching the strings of his guitar) There
is a flower
(Virag truculent, his jowl set, stares at the lamp. Grave Bloom
(to himself) Play with your eyes shut. Imitate pa. Filling my
(Almidano Artifoni holds out a batonroll of music with vigorous
Ci rifletta. Lei rovina tutto..
Sing us something. Love's old sweet song.
No voice. I am a most finished artist. Lynch, did I show you the letter
(smirking) The bird that can sing and won't sing..
dons with lawnmowers, appear in the window embrasure. Both are
masked with Matthew Arnold's face.)
Take a fool's advice. All is not well. Work it out with the buttend
of a pencil,
find out about octaves. Reduplication of personality. Who was it told me his
name? (his lawnmower begins to purr) Aha, yes. Zoe mou sas agapo. Have
a notion I was here before. When was it not Atkinson his card I have
somewhere. Mac Somebody. Unmack I have it. He told me about, hold on,
Swinburne, was it, no? .
And the song?
Spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.
Are you out of Maynooth? You're like someone I knew once.
Out of it now. (to himself) Clever..
PHILIP DRUNK AND PHILIP SOBER
(their lawnmowers purring with a rigadoon of grasshalms) Clever
Roman collar. .
Perfectly logical from his standpoint. Fall of man. (harshly, his
of rushrope, offers her allmoist yoni to man's lingam. Short time after man
presents woman with pieces of jungle meat. Woman shows joy and covers
herself with featherskins. Man loves her yoni fiercely with big lingam, the
Strong man grapses woman's wrist. Woman squeals, bites, spucks. Man,
now fierce angry, strikes woman's fat yadgana. (he chases his tail)
Piffpaff! Popo! (he stops, sneezes) Pchp! (he worries his butt) Prrrrrht! .
I hope you gave the good father a penance. Nine glorias for shooting
(spouts walrus smoke through her nostrils) He couldn't get a
(lightly) Only for what happened him.
(A diabolic rictus of black luminosity contracting his visage, cranes
(he leans out on tortured forepaws, elbows bent rigid, his eye agonising in
his flat skullneck and yelps over the mute world) A son of a whore.
And Mary Shortall that was in the lock with the pox she got from Jimmy
(gaily) C'etait le sacr pigeon, Philippe..
(Kitty unpins her hat and sets it down calmly, patting her henna
(laughs) And to such delights has Metchnikoff inoculated anthropoid apes.
(nods) Locomotor ataxy.
(gaily) O, my dictionary.
Three wise virgins..
(agueshaken, profuse yellow spawn foaming over his bony epileptic
(Ben Jumbo Dollard, rubicund, musclebound, hairynostrilled,
(nakkering castanet bones in his huge padded paws, yodels jovially
(The virgins Nurse Callan and Nurse Quigley burst through the
(gushingly) Big Ben! Ben my Chree!
Hold that fellow with the bad breeches.
(smites his thigh in abundant laughter) Hold him now.
(caressing on his breast a severed female head, murmurs) Thine
yawns, showing a coalblack throat, and closes his jaws by an upward push
of his parchmentroll) After having said which I took my departure.
Farewell. Fare thee well. Dreck!
(Henry Flower combs his moustache and beard rapidly with a
All is lost now.
(Virag unscrews his head in a trice and holds it under his arm.)
All one and the same God to her.
(devoutly) And sovereign Lord of all things.
(to Stephen) I'm sure you're a spoiled priest. Or a monk.
He is. A cardinal's son.
(His Eminence Simon Stephen cardinal Dedalus, primate of all
Conservio lies captured
(He looks at all for a moment, his right eye closed tight, his left
But some bloody savage
To graize his white cabbage
He murdered Nell Flaherty's duckloving drake.
(A multitude of midges swarms white over his robe. He scratches
I'm suffering the agony of the damned. By the hoky fiddle, thanks be
(His head aslant he blesses curtly with fore and middle fingers,
(The trick doorhandle turns.)
The devil is in that door.
(A male form passes down the creaking staircase and is heard
(hearing a male voice in talk with the whores on the doorstep, pricks
(tears open the silverfoil) Fingers was made before forks. (she
(She tosses a piece. With an adroit snap he catches it and bites
(chewing) The engineer I was with at the bazaar does have lovely
(In Svengali's fur overcoat, with folded arms and Napoleonic forelock,
(A male cough and tread are heard passing through the mist
(A firm heelclacking tread is heard on the stairs.)
(takes the chocolate) Aphrodisiac? Tansy and pennyroyal. But
I bought it.
(The door opens. Bella Cohen, a massive whoremistress, enters. She
My word! I'm all of a mucksweat.
(She glances round her at the couples Then her eyes rest on Bloom
(flirting quickly, then slowly) Married, I see.
Yes. Partly, I have mislaid.....
(half opening, then closing) And the missus is master. Petticoat
(looks down with a sheepish grin) That is so.
(folding together, rests against her left eardrop) Have you forgotten me?
(folded akimbo against her waist) Is me her was you dreamed before?
(Bella approaches, gently tapping with the fan.)
(tapping) We have met. You are mine. It is fate.
(cowed) Exuberant female. Enormously I desiderate your domination.
angle cause a draught of thirtytwo feet per second according to the law of
falling bodies. I have felt this instant a twinge of sciatica in my left glutear
barometer from it. He believed in animal heat. A skin of tabby lined his
winter waistcoat. Near the end, remembering king David and the Sunamite,
he shared his bed with Athos, faithful after death. A dog's spittle as you
probably.... (he winces) Ah!
(bagweighted, passes the door) Mocking is catch. Best value in
Dub. Fit for
(tapping) All things end. Be mine. Now,
(undecided) All now? I should not have parted with my talisman.
(points downwards slowly) You may.
(looks downwards and perceives her unfastened bootlace) We are
(with desire, with reluctance) I can make a true black knot.
(Bella raises her gown slightly and, steadying her pose, lifts to
dream, the darling joys of sweet buttonhooking, to lace up crisscrossed to
kneelength the dressy kid footwear satinlined, so incredibly impossibly
small, of Clyde Road ladies. Even their wax model Raymonde I visited daily
to admire her cobweb hose and stick of rhubarb toe, as worn in Paris.
Smell my hot goathide. Feel my royal weight.
(crosslacing) Too tight?
Not to lace the wrong eyelet as I did the night of the bazaar dance.
(He knots the lace. Bella places her foot on the floor. Bloom raises BLOOM (mumbles) Awaiting your further orders we remain, gentlemen,
(mumbles) Awaiting your further orders we remain, gentlemen, ....
(with a hard basilisk stare, in a baritone voice) Hound of dishonour!
(his heavy cheekchops sagging) Adorer of the adulterous rump!
(with sinews semiflexed) Magmagnificence!
Down! (he taps her on the shoulder with his fan) Incline feet
(her eyes upturned in the sign of admiration, closing, yaps) Truffles!
(With a piercing epileptic cry she sinks on all fours, grunting,
(with bobbed hair, purple gills, fit moustache rings round his shaven
(laughs loudly) Holy smoke! You little know what's in store for
(Bloom creeps under the sofa and peers out through the fringe.)
(widening her slip to screen her) She's not here.
(hiding her with her gown) She didn't mean it, Mr Bello. She'll
Don't be too hard on her, Mr Bello. Sure you won't, ma'amsir.
(coaxingly) Come, ducky dear, I want a word with you, darling,
(fainting) Don't tear my ...
(savagely) The nosering, the pliers, the bastinado, the hanging
breakfast of Matterson's fat hamrashers and a bottle of Guinness's porter.
(he belches) And suck my thumping good Stock Exchange cigar while I
read the Licensed Victualler's Gazette. Very possibly I shall have you
slaughtered and skewered in my stables and enjoy a slice of you with crisp
crackling from the baking tin basted and baked like sucking pig with rice
and lemon or currant sauce. It will hurt you. (He twists her arm. Bloom
squeals, turning turtle.)
Don't be cruel, nurse! Don't!
(screams) O, it's hell itself! Every nerve in my body aches like mad!
(shouts) Good, by the rumping jumping general! That's the best
(whimpers) You're after hitting me. I'll tell ....
Hold him down, girls, till I squat on him.
Yes. Walk on him! I will.
I will. Don't be greedy.
No, me. Lend him to me.
(The brothel cook, Mrs Keogh, wrinkled, greybearded, in a greasy
(ferociously) Can I help?
(They hold and pinion Bloom.)
(squats with a grunt on Bloom's upturned face, puffing cigarsmoke,
Goddamned outsider Throwaway at twenty to one. (he quenches his cigar
angrily on Bloom's ear) Where's that Goddamned cursed ashtray?
(goaded, buttocksmothered) O! O! Monsters! Cruel one!
Ask for that every ten minutes. Beg. Pray for it as you never prayed
shouting) Ho! Off we pop! I'll nurse you in proper fashion. (he horserides
cockhorse, leaping in the, in the saddle) The lady goes a pace a pace and
the coachman goes a trot a trot and the gentleman goes a gallop a gallop a
gallop a gallop.
(pulls at Bello) Let me on him now. You had enough. I asked before you.
(pulling at Florry) Me. Me. Are you not finished with him yet, suckeress?
Well, I'm not. Wait. (he holds in his breath) Curse it. Here.
(a sweat breaking out over him) Not man. (he sniffs) Woman.
yoke. Now for your punishment frock. You will shed your male garments,
you understand, Ruby Cohen? and don the shot silk luxuriously rustling
over head and shoulders. And quickly too!
(shrinks) Silk, mistress said! O crinkly! scrapy! Must I tiptouch
it with my
force into vicelike corsets of soft dove coutille with whalebone busk to the
diamondtrimmed pelvis, the absolute outside edge, while your figure,
plumper than when at large, will be restrained in nettight frocks, pretty two
ounce petticoats and fringes and things stamped, of course, with my
houseflag, creations of lovely lingerie for Alice and nice scent for Alice.
Alice will feel the pullpull.Martha and Mary will be a little chilly at first in
such delicate thighcasing but the frilly flimsiness of lace round your bare
knees will remind you .....
hands and nose, leering mouth) I tried her things on only twice, a small
prank, in Holles street. When we were hard up I washed them to save the
laundry bill. My own shirts I turned. It was the purest thrift.
(jeers) Little jobs that make mother pleased, eh? And showed
Miriam. Black. Demimondaine.
(guffaws) Christ Almighty it's too tickling, this! You were a
duchess of Manorhamilton. (he guffaws again) Christ, wouldn't it make a
Siamese cat laugh?
(her hands and features working) It was Gerald converted me to
be a true
with womanish care, lifting your billowy flounces, on the smoothworn
Science. To compare the various joys we each enjoy. (earnestly)
(sternly) No insubordination! The sawdust is there in the corner
for you. I
against you. Many. Hundreds.
THE SINS OF THE PAST
(in a medley of voices) He went through a form of clandestine
smelling vitriol works did he not pass night after night by loving courting
couples to see if and what and how much he could see? Did he not lie in
bed, the gross boar, gloating over a nauseous fragment of wellused toilet
paper presented to him by a nasty harlot, stimulated by gingerbread and a
(whistles loudly) Say! What was the most revolting piece of obscenity
(Mute inhuman faces throng forward, leering, vanishing, gibbering,
stripling, Larry rhinoceros, the girl, the woman, the whore, the
Don't ask me! Our mutual faith. Pleasants street. I only thought the
(peremptorily) Answer. Repugnant wretch! I insist on knowing.
(docile, gurgles) I rererepugnosed in rerererepugnant
(imperiously) O, get out, you skunk! Hold your tongue! Speak
(bows) Master! Mistress! Mantamer!
(He lifts his arms. His bangle bracelets fill.)
when we ladies are unwell, and swab out our latrines with dress pinned up
and a dishclout tied to your tail. Won't that be nice? (he places a ruby ring
on her finger) And there now! With this ring I thee own. Say, thank you,
Thank you, mistress.
hot. Hop! You will dance attendance or I'll lecture you on your misdeeds,
Miss Ruby, and spank your bare bot right well, miss, with the hairbrush.
You'll be taught the error of your ways. At night your wellcreamed
braceletted hands will wear fortythreebutton gloves newpowdered with talc
and having delicately scented fingertips. For such favours knights of old
laid down their lives. (he chuckles) My boys will be no end charmed
and Petty Bag office) is on the lookout for a maid of all work at a short
knock. Swell the bust. Smile. Droop shoulders. What offers? (he points)
For that lot. Trained by owner to fetch and carry, basket in mouth. (he
bares his arm and plunges it elbowdeep in Bloom's vulva) There's fine
depth for you! What, boys? That give you a hardon? (he shoves his arm in
a bidder's face) Here wet the deck and wipe it round!
(Dillon's lacquey rings his handbell.)
One and eightpence too much.
CHARLES ALBERTA MARSH
Must be virgin. Good breath. Clean.
(gives a rap with his gavel) Two bar. Rockbottom figure and cheap
stockgetter, due to lay within the hour. His sire's milk record was a
thousand gallons of whole milk in forty weeks. Whoa my jewel! Beg up!
Whoa! (he brands his initial C on Bloom's croup) So! Warranted Cohen!
What advance on two bob, gentlemen?
A DARKVISAGED MAN
(in disguised accent) Hoondert punt sterlink.
(subdued) For the Caliph. Haroun Al Raschid.
(gaily) Right. Let them all come. The scanty, daringly short
skirt, riding up
mouth) O, I know what you're hinting at now!
What else are you good for, an impotent thing like you? (he stoops
(sarcastically) I wouldn't hurt your feelings for the world but
I was indecently treated, I ..... Inform the police. Hundred pounds.
Would if you could, lame duck. A downpour we want not your drizzle.
To drive me mad! Moll! I forgot! Forgive! Moll .... We .... Still .....
(Old Sleepy Hollow calls over the wold.)
Rip van Wink! Rip van Winkle!
(in tattered mocassins with a rusty fowlingpiece, tiptoeing, fingertipping,
(Milly Bloom, fairhaired, greenvested, slimsandalled, her blue scarf
My! It's Papli! But, O Papli, how old you've grown!
many women had you, eh, following them up dark streets, flatfoot, exciting
them by your smothered grunts, what, you male prostitute? Blameless
dames with parcels of groceries. Turn about. Sauce for the goose, my
They.... I ....
for art for art' sake. They will violate the secrets of your bottom drawer.
Pages will be torn from your handbook of astronomy to make them
pipespills. And they will spit in your ten shilling brass fender from
Ten and six. The act of low scoundrels. Let me go. I will return. I
As a paying guest or a kept man? Too late. You have made your secondbest
Justice! All Ireland versus one! Has nobody ...? (he bites his thumb)
back. Sign a will and leave us any coin you have! If you have none see you
damn well get it, steal it, rob it! We'll bury you in our shrubbery jakes
where you'll be dead and dirty with old Cuck Cohen, my stepnephew I
married, the bloody old gouty procurator and sodomite with a crick in his
neck, and my other ten or eleven husbands, whatever the buggers' names
were, suffocated in the one cesspool. (he explodes in a loud phlegmy laugh)
We'll manure you, Mr Flower! (he pipes scoffingly) Byby, Poldy! Byby,
(sneers) Crybabby! Crocodile tears!
(Bloom, broken, closely veiled for the sacrifice, sobs, his face
(in dark guttural chant as they cast dead sea fruit upon him, no
(sighing) So he's gone. Ah yes. Yes, indeed. Bloom? Never heard
(From the suttee pyre the flame of gum camphire ascends. The pall
(their leaves whispering) Sister. Our sister. Ssh!
(softly) Mortal! (kindly) Nay, dost not weepest!
(crawls jellily forward under the boughs, streaked by sunlight, with
pugilists, popular generals, immoral panto boys in fleshtights and the nifty
shimmy dancers, La Aurora and Karini, musical act, the hit of the century.
I was hidden in cheap pink paper that smelt of rock oil. I was surrounded
(lifts a turtle head towards her lap) We have met before. On another star.
(sadly) Rubber goods. Neverrip brand as supplied to the aristocracy.
You mean Photo Bits?
(humbly kisses her long hair) Your classic curves, beautiful
During dark nights I heard your praise.
(quickly) Yes, yes. You mean that I.... Sleep reveals the worst
addressed. It claims to afford a noiseless, inoffensive vent. (he sighs) 'Twas
ever thus. Frailty, thy name is marriage.
(her fingers in her ears) And words. They are not in my dictionary.
You understood them?
What must my eyes look down on?
(apologetically) I know. Soiled personal linen, wrong side up
(bends her head) Worse, worse!
which has only one handle.
(The sound of a waterfall is heard in bright cascade.)
(mingling their boughs) Listen. Whisper. She is right, our sister.
JOHN WYSE NOLAN
hat) Prosper! Give shade on languorous days, trees of Ireland!
(murmuring) Who came to Poulaphouca with the High School excursion?
(scared) High School of Poula? Mnemo? Not in full possession
(pigeonbreasted, bottleshouldered, padded, in nondescript juvenile
jerseys and shorts, Master Donald Turnbull, Master Abraham
Chatterton, Master Owen Goldberg, Master Jack Meredith, Master
Percy Apjohn, stand in a clearing of the trees and shout to Master
THE HALCYON DAYS
Mackerel! Live us again. Hurray! (they cheer)
(rustling) She is right, our sister. Whisper. (Whispered kisses
are heard in
(coyly, through parting fingers) There? In the open air?
(sweeping downward) Sister, yes. And on our virgin sward.
(with wide fingers) O, infamy!
night toilette through illclosed curtains with poor papa's operaglasses: The
wanton ate grass wildly. She rolled downhill at Rialto bridge to tempt me
with her flow of animal spirits. She climbed their crooked tree and I. A saint
couldn't resist it. The demon possessed me. Besides, who saw?
(Staggering Bob, a whitepolled calf, thrusts a ruminating head with
(large teardrops rolling from his prominent eyes, snivels) Me. Me see.
girling. Too ugly. They wouldn't play ....
(High on Ben Howth through rhododendrons a nannygoat passes,
(bleats) Megeggaggegg! Nannannanny!
(hatless, flushed, covered with burrs of thistledown and gorsespine)
(Through silversilent summer air the dummy of Bloom, rolled in a
(Far out in the bay between Bailey and Kish lights the Erin's King
(alone on deck, in dark alpaca, yellowkitefaced, his hand in his
(loftily) We immortals, as you saw today, have not such a place
and no hair
(pawing the heather abjectly) O, I have been a perfect pig. Enemas
In my presence. The powderpuff. (she blushes and makes a knee)
back changes name. (with sudden fervour) For why should the dainty
scented jewelled hand, the hand that rules ...?
(Figures wind serpenting in slow woodland pattern around the
THE VOICE OF KITTY
(in the thicket) Show us one of them cushions.
THE VOICE OF FLORRY
(A grouse wings clumsily through the underwood.)
(in the thicket) Whew! Piping hot!
THE VOICE OF ZOE
(in the thicket) Came from a hot place.
THE VOICE OF VIRAG
(a birdchief, bluestreaked and feathered in war panoply with his
last favours, most especially with previously well uplifted white sateen
coatpans. So womanly, full. It fills me full.
Ssh! Sister, speak!
(eyeless, in nun's white habit, coif and hugewinged wimple, softly,
(Bloom half rises. His back trouserbutton snaps.)
(Two sluts of the Coombe dance rainily by, shawled, yelling flatly.)
To keep it up,
To keep it up.
(coldly) You have broken the spell. The last straw. If there
(their silverfoil of leaves precipitating, their skinny arms aging
(her features hardening, gropes in the folds of her habit) Sacrilege!
holy abbot you want or Brophy, the lame gardener, or the spoutless statue
of the watercarrier, or good mother Alphonsus, eh Reynard?
(with a cry flees from him unveiled, her plaster cast cracking, a
(calls after her) As if you didn't get it on the double yourselves.
years of black slave labour behind me. And would a jury give me five
shillings alimony tomorrow, eh? Fool someone else, not me. (he sniffs) Rut.
Onions. Stale. Sulphur. Grease. .
(The figure of Bella Cohen stands before him.)
You'll know me the next time..
vapid as the glasseyes of your stuffed fox. They have the dimensions of your
other features, that's all. I'm not a triple screw propeller.
(contemptuously) You're not game, in fact. (her sowcunt barks)
(contemptuously) Clean your nailless middle finger first, your
I know you, canvasser! Dead cod!
I saw him, kipkeeper! Pox and gleet vendor!.
(turns to the piano) Which of you was playing the dead march from Saul?
Me. Mind your cornflowers. (she darts to the piano and bangs chords
(Kitty, disconcerted, coats her teeth with the silver paper. Bloom
(gently) Give me back that potato, will you?
Forfeits, a fine thing and a superfine thing.
(with feeling) It is nothing, but still, a relic of poor mamma.
God'll ask you where is that
You'll say you don't know
God'll send you down below.
There is a memory attached to it. I should like to have it.
To have or not to have that is the question.
Here. (she hauls up a reef of her slip, revealing her bare thigh,
(frowns) Here. This isn't a musical peepshow. And don't you smash
(She goes to the pianola. Stephen fumbles in his pocket and, taking
(with exaggerated politeness) This silken purse I made out of
the sow's ear
(calls from the hearth) Dedalus! Give her your blessing for me.
(hands Bella a coin) Gold. She has it.
(looks at the money, then at Stephen, then at Zoe, Florry and Kitty)
out and hands her two crowns) Permit, brevi manu, my sight is somewhat
(Bella goes to the table to count the money while Stephen talks to
(strives heavily to rise) Ow! My foot's asleep. (She limps
over to the table.
(chattering and squabbling) The gentleman... ten shillings....
(at the pianola, making a gesture of abhorrence) No bottles!
stocking) Hard earned on the flat of my back.
(lifting Kitty from the table) Come!
Wait. (she clutches the two crowns)
(He lifts her, carries her and bumps her down on the sofa.)
The fox crew, the cocks flew,
(admiringly) You're such a slyboots, old cocky. I could kiss you.
(points) Him? Deep as a drawwell.
(Lynch bends Kitty back over the sofa and kisses her. Bloom goes
This is yours.
How is that? The distrait or absentminded beggar. (He fumbles again
(stooping, picks up and hands a box of matches) This.
(quietly) You had better hand over that cash to me to take care
(hands him all his coins) Be just before you are generous.
I will but is it wise? (he counts) One, seven, eleven, and five.
Six. Eleven. I
Why striking eleven? Proparoxyton. Moment before the next Lessing says.
Doesn't matter a rambling damn.
(comes to the table) Cigarette, please. (Lynch tosses a cigarette
(watching him) You would have a better chance of lighting it
if you held
(brings the match near his eye) Lynx eye. Must get glasses. Broke
It was a commercial traveller married her and took her away with him.
(nods) Mr Lambe from London.
Lamb of London, who takest away the sins of our world.
(embracing Kitty on the sofa, chants deeply) Dona nobis pacem.
(The cigarette slips from Stephen 's fingers. Bloom picks it up and
Don't smoke. You ought to eat. Cursed dog I met. (to Zoe) You
Is he hungry?
(extends his hand to her smiling and chants to the air of the bloodoath
(tragically) Hamlet, I am thy father's gimlet! (she takes
his hand) Blue
Zoe) Who taught you palmistry?
face. The eye, like that. (she frowns with lowered head)
(laughing, slaps Kitty behind twice) Like that. Pandybat..
(Twice loudly a pandybat cracks, the coffin of the pianola flies
Any boy want flogging? Broke his glasses? Lazy idle little schemer.
See it in
rises from the pianola coffin.)
DON JOHN CONMEE
Now, Father Dolan! Now. I'm sure that Stephen is a very good little boy!.
(examining Stephen's palm) Woman's hand.
(murmurs) Continue. Lie. Hold me. Caress. I never could read
Thursday's child has far to go. (she traces lines on his hand)
Line of fate.
(detaches her fingers and offers his palm) More harm than good.
Show. (she turns up Bloom's hand) I thought so. Knobby knuckles
(peering at Bloom's palm) Gridiron. Travels beyond the sea and
(quickly) O, I see. Short little finger. Henpecked husband. That wrong?.
(Black Liz, a huge rooster hatching in a chalked circle, rises,
Gara. Klook. Klook. Klook. (she sidles from her newlaid egg and waddles
twentytwo years ago. I was sixteen.
I see, says the blind man. Tell us news.
See? Moves to one great goal. I am twentytwo. Sixteen years ago he was
(Zoe whispers to Florry. They giggle. Bloom releases his hand and
(A hackneycar, number three hundred and twentyfour, with a
have you the horn?
(Bronze by gold they whisper.)
(to Florry) Whisper. (she whispers again)
(Over the well of the car Blazes Boylan leans, his boater straw set
(sated, smiles) Plucking a turkey.
A good night's work.
(holding up four thick bluntungulated fingers, winks) Blazes
Kate! Up to
ZOE AND FLORRY
(laugh together) Ha ha ha ha.
(jumps surely from the car and calls loudly for all to hear)
(in flunkey's prune plush coat and kneebreeches, buff stockings and
hat smartly on a peg of Bloom 's antlered head) Show me in. I have a little
private business with your wife, you understand?
Thank you, sir. Yes, sir. Madam Tweedy is in her bath, sir.
He ought to feel himself highly honoured. (she plops splashing out
What? What is it?
(Zoe whispers to her.)
Let him look, the pishogue! Pimp! And scourge himself! I'll write to
(clasps himself) Here, I can't hold this little lot much longer.
(he strides off
(laughing) Ho ho ho ho.
(to Bloom, over his shoulder) You can apply your eye to the keyhole
Orangeflower...? Lukewarm water...?
(from the sofa) Tell us, Florry. Tell us. What ...
(Florry whispers to her. Whispering lovewords murmur, liplapping
(her mouth opening) Yumyum. O, he's carrying her round the room
(laughing) Hee hee hee.
(sweetly, hoarsely, in the pit of his stomach) Ah! Godblazegruk-
(hoarsely, sweetly, rising to her throat) O! Weeshwashtkissinapoo-
BELLA, ZOE, FLORRY, KITTY
Ho ho! Ha ha! Hee hee!
(points) The mirror up to nature. (he laughs) Hu hu hu hu hu!
Shakespeare, beardless, appears there, rigid in facial paralysis,
crowned by the reflection of the reindeer antlered hatrack in the
(in dignified ventriloquy) 'Tis the loud laugh bespeaks the vacant
Before you're twice married and once a widower.
Lapses are condoned. Even the great Napoleon when measurements were
(Mrs Dignam, widow woman, her snubnose and cheeks flushed
Ah, ma, you're dragging me along!
Mamma, the beeftea is fizzing over!
(with paralytic rage) Weda seca whokilla farst.
(The face of Martin Cunningham, bearded, refeatures
And they call me the jewel of Asia!
(gazes on her, impassive) Immense! Most bloody awful demirep!.
Et exaltabuntur cornua iusti. Queens lay with prize bulls. Remember
None of that here. Come to the wrong shop.
Let him alone. He's back from Paris.
(runs to Stephen and links him) O go on! Give us some parleyvoo.
(Stephen claps hat on head and leaps over to the fireplace where
(gabbles with marionette jerks) Thousand places of entertainment
things mockery seen in universal world. All chic womans which arrive full
of modesty then disrobe and squeal loud to see vampire man debauch nun
very fresh young with dessous troublants. (he clacks his tongue loudly) Ho,
la la! Ce pif qu'il a!
Vive le vampire!
of laughing. Angels much prostitutes like and holy apostles big damn
ruffians. Demimondaines nicely handsome sparkling of diamonds very
amiable costumed. Or do you are fond better what belongs they moderns
pleasure turpitude of old mans? (he points about him with grotesque
gestures which Lynch and the whores reply to) Caoutchouc statue woman
reversible or lifesize tompeeptom of virgins nudities very lesbic the kiss five
ten times. Enter, gentleman, to see in mirror every positions trapezes all that
machine there besides also if desire act awfully bestial butcher's boy
pollutes in warm veal liver or omlet on the belly piece de Shakespeare.
(clapping her belly sinks back on the sofa, with a shout of laughter)
(mincingly) I love you, sir darling. Speak you englishman tongue
(laughing) Encore! Encore!
Mark me. I dreamt of a watermelon.
Go abroad and love a foreign lady.
Across the world for a wife.
Dreams goes by contraries.
(extends his arms) It was here. Street of harlots. In Serpentine
(approaching Stephen) Look ....
No, I flew. My foes beneath me. And ever shall be. World without end.
I say, look...
Break my spirit, will he? O merde alors! (he cries, his vulture
(Simon Dedalus' voice hilloes in answer, somewhat sleepy but
That's all right. (he swoops uncertainly through the air, wheeling,
them within the bawl of an ass. Head up! Keep our flag flying! An eagle
makes the beagle's call, giving tongue) Bulbul! Burblblburblbl! Hai, boy!
(The fronds and spaces of the wallpaper file rapidly crosscountry.
Ten to one bar one!
Sell the monkey, boys! Sell the monkey!
I'll give ten to one!
Ten to one bar one!
(A dark horse, riderless, bolts like a phantom past the winningpost,
(jeering) Get down and push, mister. Last lap! You'll be home the night!
(bolt upright, his nailscraped face plastered with postagestamps,
(A yoke of buckets leopards all over him and his rearing nag a
THE GREEN LODGES
Soft day, sir John! Soft day, your honour!.
(Private Carr, Private Compton and Cissy Caffrey pass beneath the
Hark! Our friend noise in the street.
(holds up her hand) Stop!.
PRIVATE CARR, PRIVATE COMPTON AND CISSY CAFFREY
Yet I've a sort of a
That's me. (she claps her hands) Dance! Dance! (she runs to
(cracking his fingers impatiently) Quick! Quick! Where's my augur's
(turns the drumhandle) There.
(She drops two pennies in the slot. Gold, pink and violet lights
stained Inverness cape, bent in two from incredible age, totters
across the room, his hands fluttering. He sits tinily on the pianostool
and lifts and beats handless sticks of arms on the keyboard, nodding
with damsel's grace, his bowknot bobbing)
(twirls round herself, heeltapping) Dance. Anybody here for there?
(The pianola with changing lights plays in waltz time the prelude
spinning to his crown and jauntyhatted skates in. He wears a slate
frockcoat with claret silk lapels, a gorget of cream tulle, a green
lowcut waistcoat, stock collar with white kerchief, tight lavender
trousers, patent pumps and canary gloves. In his buttonhole is an
immense dahlia. He twirls in reversed directions a clouded cane,
then wedges it tight in his oxter. He places a hand lightly on his
The poetry of motion, art of calisthenics. No connection with Madam
(The prelude ceases. Professor Goodwin, beating vague arms
Two young fellows were talking about their girls, girls, girls,
noon follow in amber gold. Laughing, linked, high haircombs
(The morning and noon hours waltz in their places, turning,
You may touch my.
May I touch your?
O, so lightly!.
My little shy little lass has a waist.
their cheeks delicate with cipria and false faint bloom. They are in
grey gauze with dark bat sleeves that flutter in the landbreeze.)
and twilight hours retreat before them. They are masked, with
daggered hair and bracelets of dull bells. Weary they curchycurchy
(twirling, her hand to her brow) O!.
(Arabesquing wearily they weave a pattern on the floor, weaving,
(She frees herself, droops on a chair. Stephen seizes Florry and
(Twining, receding, with interchanging hands the night hours link
Best, best of all,
(jumps up) O, they played that on the hobbyhorses at the Mirus bazaar!
(She runs to Stephen. He leaves Florry brusquely and seizes
room right roundabout the room.)
My girl's a Yorkshire girl.
Yorkshire through and through. Come on all!
(She seizes Florry and waltzes her.)
(He wheels Kitty into Lynch's arms, snatches up his ashplant from
frogsplits in middle highkicks with skykicking mouth shut hand
clasp part under thigh. With clang tinkle boomhammer tallyho
hornblower blue green yellow flashes Toft's cumbersome turns with
hobbyhorse riders from gilded snakes dangled, bowels fandango
leaping spurn soil foot and fall again.)
Though she's a factory lass
scootlootshoot lumbering by. Baraabum!)
Encore! Bis! Bravo! Encore!.
Think of your mother's people!.
Dance of death..
(Bang fresh barang bang of lacquey's bell, horse, nag, steer,
The couples fall aside. Stephen whirls giddily. Room whirls back.
(Stephen's mother, emaciated, rises stark through the floor, in leper
Liliata rutilantium te confessorum
(From the top of a tower Buck Mulligan, in particoloured jester's
She's beastly dead. The pity of it! Mulligan meets the afflicted mother.
(with the subtle smile of death's madness) I was once the beautiful
(horrorstruck) Lemur, who are you? No. What bogeyman's trick is this?
(shakes his curling capbell) The mockery of it! Kinch dogsbody
must go through it, Stephen. More women than men in the world. You too.
Time will come.
(choking with fright, remorse and horror) They say I killed you,
(a green rill of bile trickling from a side of her mouth) You
sang that song
Who saved you the night you jumped into the train at Dalkey with Paddy
The ghoul! Hyena!
every night after your brainwork. Years and years I loved you, O, my son,
my firstborn, when you lay in my womb. .
(fanning herself with the gratefan) I'm melting!
(points to Stephen) Look! He's white.
(goes to the window to open it more) Giddy..
(panting) His noncorrosive sublimate! The corpsechewer! Raw head
(her face drawing near and nearer, sending out an ashen breath) Beware!
(A green crab with malignant red eyes sticks deep its grinning claws
(strangled with rage, his features drawn grey and old) Shite!
(at the window) What?
Ah non, par exemple! The intellectual imagination! With me all
or not at
Give him some cold water. Wait. (she rushes out).
have mercy on him! Save him from hell, O Divine Sacred Heart!
No! No! No! Break my spirit, all of you, if you can! I'll bring you
(in the agony of her deathrattle) Have mercy on Stephen, Lord,
(He lifts his ashplant high with both hands and smashes the
(Stephen, abandoning his ashplant, his head and arms thrown back
(screams) After him!
(The two whores rush to the halldoor. Lynch and Kitty and Zoe
(jammed in the doorway, pointing) Down there.
(pointing) There. There's something up.
Who pays for the lamp? (she seizes Bloom's coattail) Here, you
(rushes to the hall, rushes back) What lamp, woman?
He tore his coat.
(her eyes hard with anger and cupidity, points) Who's to pay
for that? Ten
(snatches up Stephen's ashplant) Me? Ten shillings? Haven't you
(His head under the lamp, pulls the chain. Puling, the gasjet lights
(shrinks back and screams) Jesus! Don't!
(warding off a blow) To show you how he hit the paper. There's
(with a glass of water, enters) Where is he?
Do you want me to call the police?
O, I know. Bulldog on the premises. But he's a Trinity student. Patrons
paying nothing. Are you my commander here or? Where is he? I'll charge
him! Disgrace him, I will! (she shouts) Zoe! Zoe!
(urgently) And if it were your own son in Oxford? (warningly) I know.
(almost speechless) Who are. Incog!
(in the doorway) There's a row on.
chimney. Where? I need mountain air.
(He hurries out through the hall. The whores point. Florry follows,
with sideways face. Incog Haroun Al Raschid he flits behind the
silent lechers and hastens on by the railings with fleet step of a pard
strewing the drag behind him, torn envelopes drenched in aniseed.
The ashplant marks his stride. A pack of bloodhounds, led by
Hornblower of Trinity brandishing a dogwhip in tallyho cap and
an old pair of grey trousers, follow from fir, picking up the scent,
nearer, baying, panting, at fault, breaking away, throwing their
gallops, lugs laid back. He is pelted with gravel, cabbagestumps,
biscuitboxes, eggs, potatoes, dead codfish, woman's slipperslappers.
After him freshfound the hue and cry zigzag gallops in hot pursuit
of follow my leader: 65 C, 66 C, night watch, John Henry Menton,
Wisdom Hely, VB Dillon, Councillor Nannetti, Alexander Keyes,
Larry O'Rourke, Joe Cuffe Mrs O'Dowd, Pisser Burke, the
Nameless One, Mrs Riordan, the Citizen, Garryowen,
Whodoyoucallhim, Strangeface, Fellowthatsolike, Sawhimbefore,
Chapwithawen, Chris Callinan, sir Charles Cameron, Benjamin
Brayden, T. M. Healy, Mr Justice Fitzgibbon, John Howard
Parnell, the reverend Tinned Salmon, Professor Joly, Mrs Breen,
Denis Breen, Theodore Purefoy, Mina Purefoy, the Westland Row
postmistress, C. P. M'Coy, friend of Lyons, Hoppy Holohan,
maninthestreet, othermaninthestreet, Footballboots, pugnosed
driver, rich protestant lady, Davy Byrne, Mrs Ellen M'Guinness,
Mrs Joe Gallaher, George Lidwell, Jimmy Henry on corns,
(helterskelterpelterwelter) He's Bloom! Stop Bloom! Stopabloom!
(At the corner of Beaver street beneath the scaffolding Bloom
(to Cissy Caffrey) Was he insulting you?
Addressed her in vocative feminine. Probably neuter. Ungenitive.
No, he didn't. I seen him. The girl there. He was in Mrs Cohen's. What's
me though I'm only a shilling whore.
(catches sight of Lynch's and Kitty's heads) Hail, Sisyphus.
(he points to
Yes, to go with him. And me with a soldier friend.
(to Cissy) Was he insulting you while me and him was having a piss?
(gentleman poet in Union Jack blazer and cricket flannels, bareheaded,
Biff him, Harry.
is synechdoche. Part for the whole.
(to the crowd) No, I was with the privates.
(amiably) Why not? The bold soldier boy. In my opinion every
(his cap awry, advances to Stephen) Say, how would it be, governor,
(looks up to the sky) How? Very unpleasant. Noble art of selfpretence.
(from her balcony waves her handkerchief, giving the sign of the
(The soldiers turn their swimming eyes.)
(elbowing through the crowd, plucks Stephen's sleeve vigorously)
(turns) Eh? (he disengages himself) Why should I not speak
to him or to
(propping him) Retain your own.
(laughs emptily) My centre of gravity is displaced. I have forgotten
BIDDY THE CLAP
Did you hear what the professor said? He's a professor out of the college.
I did. I heard that.
He expresses himself with such marked refinement of phraseology.
Indeed, yes. And at the same time with such apposite trenchancy.
(pulls himself free and comes forward) What's that you're saying
(Edward the Seventh appears in an archway. He wars a white
EDWARD THE SEVENTH
(slowly, solemnly but indistinctly) Peace, perfect peace. For
Private Compton, Stephen, Bloom and Lynch)
(General applause. Edward the Seventh lifts his bucket graciously
(to Stephen) Say it again.
(nervous, friendly, pulls himself up) I understand your point
Not that I wish it for you. But I say: Let my country die for me. Up to the
present it has done so. I didn't want it to die. Damn death. Long live life!
EDWARD THE SEVENTH
(levitates over heaps of slain, in the garb and with the halo of
My methods are new and are causing surprise.
Eh, Harry, give him a kick in the knackers. Stick one into Jerry.
(to the privates, softly) He doesn't know what he's saying. Taken
(nods, smiling and laughing) Gentleman, patriot, scholar and
I don't give a bugger who he is.
We don't give a bugger who he is.
I seem to annoy them. Green rag to a bull.
(Kevin Egan of Paris in black Spanish tasselled shirt and
H'lo! Bonjour! The vieille ogresse with the dents jaunes.
DON EMILE PATRIZ1O FRANZ RUPERT POPE HENNESSY
(in medieval hauberk, two wild geese volant on his helm, with noble
(to Stephen) Come home. You'll get into trouble.
BIDDY THE CLAP
One immediately observes that he is of patrician lineage.
Green above the red, says he. Wolfe Tone.
The red's as good as the green. And better. Up the soldiers! Up King
(laughs) Ay! Hands up to De Wet.
(with a huge emerald muffler and shillelagh, calls)
May the God above
THE CROPPY BOY
(the ropenoose round his neck, gripes in his issuing bowels with
I bear no hate to a living thing,
RUMBOLD, DEMON BARBER
(accompanied by two blackmasked assistants, advances with gladstone
him downward, grunting The croppy boy's tongue protrudes
THE CROPPY BOY
Horhot ho hray hor hother's hest.
(He gives up the ghost. A violent erection of the hanged sends gouts
I'm near it myself. (he undoes the noose) Rope which hanged the
EDWARD THE SEVENTH
(dances slowly, solemnly, rattling his bucket, and sings with soft
Drinking whisky, beer and wine!
Here. What are you saying about my king?
(throws up his hands) O, this is too monotonous! Nothing. He
(tries to move off) Will someone tell me where I am least likely
(The women's heads coalesce. Old Gummy Granny in sugarloaf
OLD GUMMY GRANNY
(rocking to and fro) Ireland's sweetheart, the king of Spain's
How do I stand you? The hat trick! Where's the third person of the Blessed
(shrill) Stop them from fighting!
Our men retreated.
(tugging at his belt) I'll wring the neck of any fucker says
a word against
(terrified) He said nothing. Not a word. A pure misunderstanding.
Did I? When?
(to the redcoats) We fought for you in South Africa, Irish missile
(staggering past) O, yes! O God, yes! O, make the kwawr a krowawr!
(Casqued halberdiers in armour thrust forward a pentice of gutted
bearskin cap with hackleplume and accoutrements, with epaulettes,
(growls gruffly) Rorke's Drift! Up, guards, and at them! Mahar
Erin go bragh!
decorations, trophies of war, wounds. Both salute with fierce
I'll do him in.
(moves the crowd back) Fair play, here. Make a bleeding butcher's
(Massed bands blare Garryowen and God save the king.)
The brave and the fair.
BIDDY THE CLAP
Methinks yon sable knight will joust it with the best.
(blushing deeply) Nay, madam. The gules doublet and merry saint
(loosening his belt, shouts) I'll wring the neck of any fucking
(shakes Cissy Caffrey's shoulders) Speak, you! Are you struck
(ecstatically, to Cissy Caffrey)
White thy fambles, red thy gan
Dublin's burning! Dublin's burning! On fire, on fire!
(Brimstone fires spring up. Dense clouds roll past. Heavy Gatling
spring up from furrows. They exchange in amity the pass of knights
FATHER MALACHI O'FLYNN
Introibo ad altare diaboli.
THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE
To the devil which hath made glad my young days.
(takes from the chalice and elevates a blooddripping host) Corpus
THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE
(raises high behind the celebrant's petticoat, revealing his grey
THE VOICE OF ALL THE DAMNED
Htengier Tnetopinmo Dog Drol eht rof, Aiulella!
(From on high the voice of Adonai calls.)
THE VOICE OF ALL THE BLESSED
Alleluia, for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth!
(From on high the voice of Adonai calls.)
(In strident discord peasants and townsmen of Orange and Green
(The retriever, nosing on the fringe of the crowd, barks noisily.)
(runs to Lynch) Can't you get him away?
He likes dialectic, the universal language. Kitty! (to Bloom)
Get him away,
(He drags Kitty away.)
(points) Exit Judas. Et laqueo se suspendit.
(runs to Stephen) Come along with me now before worse happens.
Stick, no. Reason. This feast of pure reason..
OLD GUMMY GRANNY
(thrusts a dagger towards Stephen's hand) Remove him, acushla.
forgive him. (shouting in his ear) I forgive him for insulting me. .
(over Stephen's shoulder) Yes, go. You see he's incapable.
(breaks loose) I'll insult him.
(He rushes towards Stephen, fist outstretched, and strikes him in
(loudly) Carbine in bucket! Cease fire! Salute!
(barking furiously) Ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute.
Let him up! Don't strike him when he's down! Air! Who? The soldier hit
What call had the redcoat to strike the gentleman and he under the
Listen to who's talking! Hasn't the soldier a right to go with his girl?
(They grab at each other's hair, claw at each other and spit)
(barking) Wow wow wow..
(shoves them back, loudly) Get back, stand back!.
(tugging his comrade) Here. Bugger off, Harry. Here's the cops!.
What's wrong here?
We were with this lady. And he insulted us. And assaulted my chum. (the
(with expectation) Is he bleeding!.
(rising from his knees) No. Gone off. He'll come to all right.
(glances sharply at the man) Leave him to me. I can easily .....
Who are you? Do you know him?.
(lurches towards the watch) He insulted my lady friend..
(angrily) You hit him without provocation. I'm a witness. Constable,
(pulling his comrade) Here, bugger off Harry. Or Bennett'll shove
(staggering as he is pulled away) God fuck old Bennett. He's
(takes out his notebook) What's his name?
Name and address.
(Corny Kelleher, weepers round his hat, a death wreath in his hand,
(quickly) O, the very man! (he whispers) Simon Dedalus'
son. A bit
(to the watch, with drawling eye) That's all right. I know him.
Won a bit
(turns to the crowd) Here, what are you all gaping at? Move on
(The crowd disperses slowly, muttering, down the lane.)
We were often as bad ourselves, ay or worse. What? Eh, what?
(laughs) I suppose so.
(nudges the second watch) Come and wipe your name off the slate.
(genially) Ah, sure we were too.
(winking) Boys will be boys. I've a car round there.
All right, Mr Kelleher. Good night.
I'll see to that.
(shakes hands with both of the watch in turn) Thank you very
O. I understand, sir.
That's all right, sir.
It was only in case of corporal injuries I'd have to report it at the station.
(nods rapidly) Naturally. Quite right. Only your bounden duty.
Good night, men.
(saluting together) Night, gentlemen.
(They move off with slow heavy tread)
(blows) Providential you came on the scene. You have a car...?
(laughs, pointing his thumb over his right shoulder to the car brought
I was just going home by Gardiner street when I happened to ...
(laughs) Sure they wanted me to join in with the mots. No, by
God, says I.
(tries to laugh) He, he, he! Yes. Matter of fact I was just visiting
(The horse neighs.)
commercials in Mrs Cohen's and I told him to pull up and got off to see.
(he laughs) Sober hearsedrivers a speciality. Will I give him a lift home?
Where does he hang out? Somewhere in Cabra, what?
No, in Sandycove, I believe, from what he let drop.
(Stephen, prone, breathes to the stars. Corny Kelleher, asquint,
they didn't lift anything off him.
No, no, no. I have his money and his hat here and stick.
Ah, well, he'll get over it. No bones broken. Well, I'll shove along.
(Corny Kelleher returns to the outside car and mounts it. The
(from the car, standing) Night.
(The jarvey chucks the reins and raises his whip encouragingly.
Eh! Ho! (There is no answer. He bends again.) Mr Dedalus! (there
(frowns) Who? Black panther. Vampire. (he sighs and stretches
Who... drive... Fergus now
(He turns on his left side, sighing, doubling himself together.)
Poetry. Well educated. Pity.(he bends again and undoes the buttons of
Stephen's waistcoat) To breathe. (he brushes the woodshavings from
Stephen's clothes with light hand and fingers) One pound seven. Not hurt
anyhow. (he listens) What?
.... shadows ... the woods
(He stretches out his arms, sighs again and curls his body. Bloom,
(communes with the night) Face reminds me of his poor mother.
(Silent, thoughtful, alert he stands on guard, his fingers at his
(wonderstruck, calls inaudibly) Rudy!
(gazes, unseeing, into Bloom's eyes and goes on reading, kissing,