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. Conventions for this chapter: External narrative Internal narrative ...in Leopold Bloom's mind Internal narrative ...in Stephen Dedalus's mind —External dialog ...All individual speech included Telegraphic external narrative ...Reporting collective dialog and musing; silent reading (See for ex., lines 3552-56) Annotations ...Displayed on selected words when link is touched by mouse pointer 00 ...Line counter by tens (if touched by mouse pointer, it displays a brief summary of the action in the adjacent lines ).

. This background color indicates a different approach to the narrative: a world of magical realism (see pages 3-95)

. This background color indicates a different approach to the narrative: the World of Hallucination of Bloom (see pages 211-29)

. This background color indicates a different approach to the narrative: the World of Hallucination of Stephen Dedalus (see pages 2650-91, Cont. of Chapter)

. 00 [15] Cont. ==> (second half of Chapter) <== .

. STEPHEN (to himself) Play with your eyes shut. Imitate pa. Filling my belly with husks of swine. Too much of this. I will arise and go to my. Expect this is the. Steve, thou art in a parlous way. Must visit old Deasy or telegraph. Our interview of this morning has left on me a deep impression. Though our ages. Will write fully tomorrow. I'm partially drunk, by the way. (he touches the keys again) Minor chord comes now. Yes. Not much however. .

. (Almidano Artifoni holds out a batonroll of music with vigorous 2500 moustachework.) ARTIFONI Ci rifletta. Lei rovina tutto. .

. FLORRY Sing us something. Love's old sweet song. STEPHEN No voice. I am a most finished artist. Lynch, did I show you the letter about the lute? FLORRY (smirking) The bird that can sing and won't sing. .

. 2510 (The Siamese twins, Philip Drunk and Philip Sober, two Oxford dons with lawnmowers, appear in the window embrasure. Both are masked with Matthew Arnold's face.)   PHILIP SOBER Take a fool's advice. All is not well. Work it out with the buttend of a pencil, like a good young idiot. Three pounds twelve you got, two notes, one sovereign, two crowns, if youth but knew. Mooney's en ville, Mooney's sur mer, the Moira, Larchet's, Holles street hospital, Burke's. Eh? I am watching you. PHILIP DRUNK 2520 (impatiently) Ah, bosh, man. Go to hell! I paid my way. If I could only 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? .

. FLORRY And the song? STEPHEN Spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. 2530 FLORRY Are you out of Maynooth? You're like someone I knew once. STEPHEN Out of it now. (to himself) Clever. .

. PHILIP DRUNK AND PHILIP SOBER (their lawnmowers purring with a rigadoon of grasshalms) Clever ever. Out of it out of it. By the bye have you the book, the thing, the ashplant? Yes, there it, yes. Cleverever outofitnow. Keep in condition. Do like us. .

. ZOE There was a priest down here two nights ago to do his bit of business with 2540 his coat buttoned up. You needn't try to hide, I says to him. I know you've a Roman collar. .

. VIRAG Perfectly logical from his standpoint. Fall of man. (harshly, his pupils waxing) To hell with the pope! Nothing new under the sun. I am the Virag who disclosed the Sex Secrets of Monks and Maidens. Why I left the church of Rome. Read the Priest, the Woman and the Confessional. Penrose. Flipperty Jippert. (he wriggles) Woman, undoing with sweet pudor her belt 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 2550 stiff one. (he cries) Coactus volui. Then giddy woman will run about. 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! .

. LYNCH I hope you gave the good father a penance. Nine glorias for shooting a bishop. ZOE (spouts walrus smoke through her nostrils) He couldn't get a connection. Only, you know, sensation. A dry rush. 2560 BLOOM Poor man! ZOE (lightly) Only for what happened him. BLOOM How? .

. VIRAG (A diabolic rictus of black luminosity contracting his visage, cranes his scraggy neck forward. He lifts a mooncalf nozzle and howls.) Verfluchte Goim! He had a father, forty fathers. He never existed. Pig God! He had 2570 two left feet. He was Judas Iacchia, a Libyan eunuch, the pope's bastard. (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. Apocalypse. .

. KITTY And Mary Shortall that was in the lock with the pox she got from Jimmy Pidgeon in the blue caps had a child off him that couldn't swallow and was smothered with the convulsions in the mattress and we all subscribed for the funeral. .

. PHILIP DRUNK 2580 (gravely) Qui vous a mis dans cette fichue position, Philippe? PHILIP SOBER (gaily) C'etait le sacr pigeon, Philippe. .

. (Kitty unpins her hat and sets it down calmly, patting her henna hair. And a prettier, a daintier head of winsome curls was never seen on a whore's shoulders. Lynch puts on her hat. She whips it off.) LYNCH (laughs) And to such delights has Metchnikoff inoculated anthropoid apes. FLORRY (nods) Locomotor ataxy. 2590 ZOE (gaily) O, my dictionary. LYNCH Three wise virgins. .

. VIRAG (agueshaken, profuse yellow spawn foaming over his bony epileptic lips) She sold lovephiltres, whitewax, orangeflower. Panther, the Roman centurion, polluted her with his genitories. (he sticks out a flickering phosphorescent scorpion tongue, his hand on his fork) Messiah! He burst her tympanum. (with gibbering baboon's cries he jerks his hips in the 2600 cynical spasm) Hik! Hek! Hak! Hok! Huk! Kok! Kuk! (Ben Jumbo Dollard, rubicund, musclebound, hairynostrilled, hugebearded, cabbageeared, shaggychested, shockmaned, fat- papped, stands forth, his loins and genitals tightened into a pair of black bathing bagslops.) BEN DOLLARD (nakkering castanet bones in his huge padded paws, yodels jovially in base barreltone) When love absorbs my ardent soul. (The virgins Nurse Callan and Nurse Quigley burst through the ringkeepers and the ropes and mob him with open arms.) 2610 THE VIRGINS (gushingly) Big Ben! Ben my Chree! A VOICE Hold that fellow with the bad breeches. BEN DOLLARD (smites his thigh in abundant laughter) Hold him now. HENRY (caressing on his breast a severed female head, murmurs) Thine heart, mine love. (he plucks his lutestrings) When first I saw ... VIRAG 2620 (sloughing his skins, his multitudinous plumage moulting) Rats! (he 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 pocketcomb and gives a cow's lick to his hair. Steered by his rapier, he glides to the door, his wild harp slung behind him. Virag reaches the door in two ungainly stilthops, his tail cocked, and deftly claps sideways on the wall a pusyellow flybill, butting it with his head.) THE FLYBILL 2630 K. II. Post No Bills. Strictly confidential. Dr Hy Franks. HENRY All is lost now. (Virag unscrews his head in a trice and holds it under his arm.) VIRAG'S HEAD Quack! (Exeunt severally.) .

. STEPHEN (over his shoulder to Zoe) You would have preferred the fighting parson who founded the protestant error. But beware Antisthenes, the dog sage, 2640 and the last end of Arius Heresiarchus. The agony in the closet. LYNCH All one and the same God to her. STEPHEN (devoutly) And sovereign Lord of all things. FLORRY (to Stephen) I'm sure you're a spoiled priest. Or a monk. LYNCH He is. A cardinal's son. STEPHEN 2650 Cardinal sin. Monks of the screw. .

. (His Eminence Simon Stephen cardinal Dedalus, primate of all Ireland, appears in the doorway, dressed in red soutane, sandals and socks Seven dwarf simian acolytes, also in red, cardinal sins, uphold his train, peeping under it He wears a battered silk hat sideways on his head. His thumbs are stuck in his armpits and his palms outspread. Round his neck hangs a rosary of corks ending on his breast in a corkscrew cross. Releasing his thumbs, he invokes grace from on high with large wave gestures and proclaims with bloated pomp:) 2660 THE CARDINAL Conservio lies captured He lies in the lowest dungeon With manacles and chains around his limbs Weighing upwards of three tons. (He looks at all for a moment, his right eye closed tight, his left cheek puffed out Then, unable to repress his merriment, he rocks to and fro, arms akimbo, and sings with broad rollicking humour:) O, the poor little fellow Hihihihihis legs they were yellow 2670 He was plump, fat and heavy and brisk as a snake 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 himself with crossed arms at his ribs, grimacing, and exclaims:) I'm suffering the agony of the damned. By the hoky fiddle, thanks be to Jesus those funny little chaps are not unanimous. If they were they'd walk me off the face of the bloody globe. (His head aslant he blesses curtly with fore and middle fingers, 2680 imparts the Easter kiss and doubleshuffles off comically, swaying his hat from side to side, shrinking quickly to the size of his trainbearers.The dwarf acolytes, giggling, peeping, nudging, ogling, easterkissing, zigzag behind him. His voice is heard mellow from afar, merciful male, melodious:) Shall carry my heart to thee, Shall carry my heart to thee, And the breath of the balmy night Shall carry my heart to thee! (The trick doorhandle turns.) 2690 THE DOORHANDLE Theeee! .

. ZOE The devil is in that door. (A male form passes down the creaking staircase and is heard taking the waterproof and hat from the rack. Bloom starts forward involuntarily and, half closing the door as he passes, takes the chocolate from his pocket and offers it nervously to Zoe.) ZOE (sniffs his hair briskly) Hmmm! Thank your mother for the rabbits. I'm 2700 very fond of what I like. BLOOM (hearing a male voice in talk with the whores on the doorstep, pricks his ears) If it were he? After? Or because not? Or the double event? ZOE (tears open the silverfoil) Fingers was made before forks. (she breaks off and nibbles a piece gives a piece to Kitty Ricketts and then turns kittenishly to Lynch) No objection to French lozenges? (He nods. She taunts him.) Have it now or wait till you get it? (He opens his mouth, his head cocked. She whirls the prize in left circle. His head follows. She whirls it back in 2710 right circle. He eyes her.) Catch! (She tosses a piece. With an adroit snap he catches it and bites it through with a crack.) KITTY (chewing) The engineer I was with at the bazaar does have lovely ones. Full of the best liqueurs. And the viceroy was there with his lady. The gas we had on the Toft's hobbyhorses. I'm giddy still. .

. BLOOM (In Svengali's fur overcoat, with folded arms and Napoleonic forelock, frowns in ventriloquial exorcism with piercing eagle glance towards the 2720 door. Then rigid with left foot advanced he makes a swift pass with impelling fingers and gives the sign of past master, drawing his right arm downwards from his left shoulder.) Go, go, go, I conjure you, whoever you are! .

. (A male cough and tread are heard passing through the mist outside. Bloom's features relax. He places a hand in his waistcoat, posing calmly. Zoe offers him chocolate.) BLOOM (solemnly) Thanks. ZOE 2730 Do as you're bid. Here! (A firm heelclacking tread is heard on the stairs.) BLOOM (takes the chocolate) Aphrodisiac? Tansy and pennyroyal. But I bought it. Vanilla calms or? Mnemo. Confused light confuses memory. Red influences lupus. Colours affect women's characters, any they have. This black makes me sad. Eat and be merry for tomorrow. (he eats) Influence taste too, mauve. But it is so long since I. Seems new. Aphro. That priest. Must come. Better late than never. Try truffles at Andrews. (The door opens. Bella Cohen, a massive whoremistress, enters. She 2740 is dressed in a threequarter ivory gown, fringed round the hem with tasselled selvedge, and cools herself flirting a black horn fan like Minnie Hauck in Carmen. On her left hand are wedding and keeper rings. Her eyes are deeply carboned. She has a sprouting moustache. Her olive face is heavy, slightly sweated and fullnosed with orangetainted nostrils. She has large pendant beryl eardrops.)   BELLA My word! I'm all of a mucksweat. (She glances round her at the couples Then her eyes rest on Bloom with hard insistence. Her large fan winnows wind towards her 2750 heated faceneck and embonpoint. Her falcon eyes glitter.) .

. THE FAN (flirting quickly, then slowly) Married, I see. BLOOM Yes. Partly, I have mislaid..... THE FAN (half opening, then closing) And the missus is master. Petticoat government. BLOOM (looks down with a sheepish grin) That is so. 2760 THE FAN (folding together, rests against her left eardrop) Have you forgotten me? BLOOM Nes. Yo. THE FAN (folded akimbo against her waist) Is me her was you dreamed before? Was then she him you us since knew? Am all them and the same now me? (Bella approaches, gently tapping with the fan.) BLOOM (wincing) Powerful being. In my eyes read that slumber which women 2770 love. THE FAN (tapping) We have met. You are mine. It is fate. BLOOM (cowed) Exuberant female. Enormously I desiderate your domination. I am exhausted, abandoned, no more young. I stand, so to speak, with an unposted letter bearing the extra regulation fee before the too late box of the general postoffice of human life. The door and window open at a right 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 2780 muscle. It runs in our family. Poor dear papa, a widower, was a regular 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! RICHIE GOULDING (bagweighted, passes the door) Mocking is catch. Best value in Dub. Fit for a prince's. Liver and kidney. THE FAN (tapping) All things end. Be mine. Now, 2790 BLOOM (undecided) All now? I should not have parted with my talisman. Rain, exposure at dewfall on the searocks, a peccadillo at my time of life. Every phenomenon has a natural cause. THE FAN (points downwards slowly) You may. BLOOM (looks downwards and perceives her unfastened bootlace) We are observed. THE FAN 2800 (points downwards quickly) You must. BLOOM (with desire, with reluctance) I can make a true black knot. Learned when I served my time and worked the mail order line for Kellett's. Experienced hand. Every knot says a lot. Let me. In courtesy. I knelt once before today. (Bella raises her gown slightly and, steadying her pose, lifts to the edge of a chair a plump buskined hoof and a full pastern, silksocked. Bloom, stifflegged, aging, bends over her hoof and with gentle fingers draws out and in her laces.) BLOOM 2810 (murmurs lovingly) To be a shoefitter in Manfield's was my love's young 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. THE HOOF Smell my hot goathide. Feel my royal weight. BLOOM (crosslacing) Too tight? THE HOOF 2820 If you bungle, Handy Andy, I'll kick your football for you. BLOOM Not to lace the wrong eyelet as I did the night of the bazaar dance. Bad luck. Hook in wrong tache of her .... person you mentioned. That night she met.... Now! (He knots the lace. Bella places her foot on the floor. Bloom raises his head. Her heavy face, her eyes strike him in midbrow. His eyes grow dull, darker and pouched, his nose thickens.) BLOOM (mumbles) Awaiting your further orders we remain, gentlemen, .... 2830 BELLO (with a hard basilisk stare, in a baritone voice) Hound of dishonour! BLOOM (infatuated) Empress! BELLO (his heavy cheekchops sagging) Adorer of the adulterous rump! BLOOM (plaintively) Hugeness! BELLO Dungdevourer! 2840 BLOOM (with sinews semiflexed) Magmagnificence! BELLO Down! (he taps her on the shoulder with his fan) Incline feet forward! Slide left foot one pace back! You will fall. You are falling. On the hands down! BLOOM (her eyes upturned in the sign of admiration, closing, yaps) Truffles! (With a piercing epileptic cry she sinks on all fours, grunting, snuffling, rooting at his feet: then lies, shamming dead, with eyes 2850 shut tight, trembling eyelids, bowed upon the ground in the attitude of most excellent master.) BELLO (with bobbed hair, purple gills, fit moustache rings round his shaven mouth, in mountaineer's puttees, green silverbuttoned coat, sport skirt and alpine hat with moorcock's feather, his hands stuck deep in his breeches pockets, places his heel on her neck and grinds it in) Footstool! Feel my entire weight. Bow, bondslave, before the throne of your despot's glorious heels so glistening in their proud erectness. BLOOM 2860 (enthralled, bleats) I promise never to disobey. BELLO (laughs loudly) Holy smoke! You little know what's in store for you. I'm the Tartar to settle your little lot and break you in! I'll bet Kentucky cocktails all round I shame it out of you, old son. Cheek me, I dare you. If you do tremble in anticipation of heel discipline to be inflicted in gym costume. (Bloom creeps under the sofa and peers out through the fringe.) ZOE (widening her slip to screen her) She's not here. BLOOM 2870 (closing her eyes) She's not here. FLORRY (hiding her with her gown) She didn't mean it, Mr Bello. She'll be good, sir. KITTY Don't be too hard on her, Mr Bello. Sure you won't, ma'amsir. BELLO (coaxingly) Come, ducky dear, I want a word with you, darling, just to administer correction. Just a little heart to heart talk, sweety. (Bloom puts out her timid head) There's a good girly now. (Bello grabs her hair 2880 violently and drags her forward) I only want to correct you for your own good on a soft safe spot. How's that tender behind? O, ever so gently, pet. Begin to get ready. BLOOM (fainting) Don't tear my ... BELLO (savagely) The nosering, the pliers, the bastinado, the hanging hook, the knout I'll make you kiss while the flutes play like the Nubian slave of old. You're in for it this time! I'll make you remember me for the balance of your natural life. (his forehead veins swollen, his face congested) I shall sit 2890 on your ottoman saddleback every morning after my thumping good 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.) BLOOM Don't be cruel, nurse! Don't! 2900 BELLO (twisting) Another! BLOOM (screams) O, it's hell itself! Every nerve in my body aches like mad! BELLO (shouts) Good, by the rumping jumping general! That's the best bit of news I heard these six weeks. Here, don't keep me waiting, damn you! (he slaps her face) BLOOM (whimpers) You're after hitting me. I'll tell .... 2910 BELLO Hold him down, girls, till I squat on him. ZOE Yes. Walk on him! I will. FLORRY I will. Don't be greedy. KITTY No, me. Lend him to me. (The brothel cook, Mrs Keogh, wrinkled, greybearded, in a greasy bib, men's grey and green socks and brogues, floursmeared, a 2920 rollingpin stuck with raw pastry in her bare red arm and hand, appears at the door.) MRS KEOGH (ferociously) Can I help? (They hold and pinion Bloom.) BELLO (squats with a grunt on Bloom's upturned face, puffing cigarsmoke, nursing a fat leg) I see Keating Clay is elected vicechairman of the Richmond asylum and by the by Guinness's preference shares are at sixteen three quaffers. Curse me for a fool that didn't buy that lot Craig and 2930 Gardner told me about. Just my infernal luck, curse it. And that Goddamned outsider Throwaway at twenty to one. (he quenches his cigar angrily on Bloom's ear) Where's that Goddamned cursed ashtray? BLOOM (goaded, buttocksmothered) O! O! Monsters! Cruel one! BELLO Ask for that every ten minutes. Beg. Pray for it as you never prayed before. (he thrusts out a figged fist and foul cigar) Here, kiss that. Both. Kiss. (he throws a leg astride and, pressing with horseman's knees, calls in a hard voice) Gee up! A cockhorse to Banbury cross. I'll ride him for the Eclipse 2940 stakes. (he bends sideways and squeezes his mount's testicles roughly, 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. FLORRY (pulls at Bello) Let me on him now. You had enough. I asked before you. ZOE (pulling at Florry) Me. Me. Are you not finished with him yet, suckeress? BLOOM 2950 (stifling) Can't. BELLO Well, I'm not. Wait. (he holds in his breath) Curse it. Here. This bung's about burst. (he uncorks himself behind: then, contorting his features, farts stoutly) Take that! (he recorks himself) Yes, by Jingo, sixteen three quarters. BLOOM (a sweat breaking out over him) Not man. (he sniffs) Woman. BELLO (stands up) No more blow hot and cold. What you longed for has come to 2960 pass. Henceforth you are unmanned and mine in earnest, a thing under the 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! BLOOM (shrinks) Silk, mistress said! O crinkly! scrapy! Must I tiptouch it with my nails? BELLO (points to his whores) As they are now so will you be, wigged, singed, perfumesprayed, ricepowdered, with smoothshaven armpits. Tape 2970 measurements will be taken next your skin. You will be laced with cruel 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 ..... BLOOM 2980 (charming soubrette with dauby cheeks, mustard hair and large male 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. BELLO (jeers) Little jobs that make mother pleased, eh? And showed off coquettishly in your domino at the mirror behind closedrawn blinds your unskirted thighs and hegoat's udders in various poses of surrender, eh? Ho! ho! I have to laugh! That secondhand black operatop shift and short trunkleg naughties all split up the stitches at her last rape that Mrs Miriam 2990 Dandrade sold you from the Shelbourne hotel, eh? BLOOM Miriam. Black. Demimondaine. BELLO (guffaws) Christ Almighty it's too tickling, this! You were a nicelooking Miriam when you clipped off your backgate hairs and lay swooning in the thing across the bed as Mrs Dandrade about to be violated by lieutenant Smythe-Smythe, Mr Philip Augustus Blockwell M. P., signor Laci Daremo, the robust tenor, blueeyed Bert, the liftboy, Henri Fleury of Gordon Bennett fame, Sheridan, the quadroon Croesus, the varsity wetbob eight 3000 from old Trinity, Ponto, her splendid Newfoundland and Bobs, dowager duchess of Manorhamilton. (he guffaws again) Christ, wouldn't it make a Siamese cat laugh? BLOOM (her hands and features working) It was Gerald converted me to be a true corsetlover when I was female impersonator in the High School play Vice Versa. It was dear Gerald. He got that kink, fascinated by sister's stays. Now dearest Gerald uses pinky greasepaint and gilds his eyelids. Cult of the beautiful. BELLO 3010 (with wicked glee) Beautiful! Give us a breather! When you took your seat with womanish care, lifting your billowy flounces, on the smoothworn throne. BLOOM Science. To compare the various joys we each enjoy. (earnestly) And really it's better the position .... because often I used to wet .... BELLO (sternly) No insubordination! The sawdust is there in the corner for you. I gave you strict instructions, didn't I? Do it standing, sir! I'll teach you to behave like a jinkleman! If I catch a trace on your swaddles. Aha! By the 3020 ass of the Dorans you'll find I'm a martinet. The sins of your past are rising against you. Many. Hundreds. THE SINS OF THE PAST (in a medley of voices) He went through a form of clandestine marriage with at least one woman in the shadow of the Black church. Unspeakable messages he telephoned mentally to Miss Dunn at an address in D'Olier street while he presented himself indecently to the instrument in the callbox. By word and deed he frankly encouraged a nocturnal strumpet to deposit fecal and other matter in an unsanitary outhouse attached to empty premises. In five public conveniences he wrote pencilled messages offering 3030 his nuptial partner to all strongmembered males. And by the offensively 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 postal order? BELLO (whistles loudly) Say! What was the most revolting piece of obscenity in all your career of crime? Go the whole hog. Puke it out! Be candid for once. (Mute inhuman faces throng forward, leering, vanishing, gibbering, 3040 Booloohoom, Poldy Kock, Bootlaces a penny Cassidy's hag, blind stripling, Larry rhinoceros, the girl, the woman, the whore, the other the, lane the.) BLOOM Don't ask me! Our mutual faith. Pleasants street. I only thought the half of the ... I swear on my sacred oath .... BELLO (peremptorily) Answer. Repugnant wretch! I insist on knowing. Tell me something to amuse me, smut or a bloody good ghoststory or a line of poetry, quick, quick, quick! Where? How? What time? With how many? I 3050 give you just three seconds. One! Two! Thr ..... BLOOM (docile, gurgles) I rererepugnosed in rerererepugnant BELLO (imperiously) O, get out, you skunk! Hold your tongue! Speak when you're spoken to. BLOOM (bows) Master! Mistress! Mantamer! (He lifts his arms. His bangle bracelets fill.) BELLO 3060 (satirically) By day you will souse and bat our smelling underclothes also 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, mistress. BLOOM Thank you, mistress. BELLO You will make the beds, get my tub ready, empty the pisspots in the different rooms, including old Mrs Keogh's the cook's, a sandy one. Ay, and rinse 3070 the seven of them well, mind, or lap it up like champagne. Drink me piping 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 to see you so ladylike, the colonel, above all, when they come here the night before the wedding to fondle my new attraction in gilded heels. First I'll have a go at you myself. A man I know on the turf named Charles Alberta Marsh (I 3080 was in bed with him just now and another gentleman out of the Hanaper 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! A BIDDER A florin. (Dillon's lacquey rings his handbell.) 3090 THE LACQUEY Barang! A VOICE One and eightpence too much. CHARLES ALBERTA MARSH Must be virgin. Good breath. Clean. BELLO (gives a rap with his gavel) Two bar. Rockbottom figure and cheap at the price. Fourteen hands high. Touch and examine shis points. Handle hrim. This downy skin, these soft muscles, this tender flesh. If I had only my gold 3100 piercer here! And quite easy to milk. Three newlaid gallons a day. A pure 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. VOICES (subdued) For the Caliph. Haroun Al Raschid. 3110 BELLO (gaily) Right. Let them all come. The scanty, daringly short skirt, riding up at the knee to show a peep of white pantalette, is a potent weapon and transparent stockings, emeraldgartered, with the long straight seam trailing up beyond the knee, appeal to the better instincts of the blase man about town. Learn the smooth mincing walk on four inch Louis Quinze heels, the Grecian bend with provoking croup, the thighs fluescent, knees modestly kissing. Bring all your powers of fascination to bear on them. Pander to their Gomorrahan vices. BLOOM 3120 (bends his blushing face into his armpit and simpers with forefinger in mouth) O, I know what you're hinting at now! BELLO What else are you good for, an impotent thing like you? (he stoops and, peering, pokes with his fan rudely under the fat suet folds of Bloom's haunches) Up! Up! Manx cat! What have we here? Where's your curly teapot gone to or who docked it on you, cockyolly? Sing, birdy, sing. It's as limp as a boy of six's doing his pooly behind a cart. Buy a bucket or sell your pump. (loudly) Can you do a man's job? BLOOM 3130 Eccles street.... BELLO (sarcastically) I wouldn't hurt your feelings for the world but there's a man of brawn in possession there. The tables are turned, my gay young fellow! He is something like a fullgrown outdoor man. Well for you, you muff, if you had that weapon with knobs and lumps and warts all over it. He shot his bolt, I can tell you! Foot to foot, knee to knee, belly to belly, bubs to breast! He's no eunuch. A shock of red hair he has sticking out of him behind like a furzebush! Wait for nine months, my lad! Holy ginger, it's kicking and coughing up and down in her guts already! That makes 3140 you wild, don't it? Touches the spot? (he spits in contempt) Spittoon! BLOOM I was indecently treated, I ..... Inform the police. Hundred pounds. Unmentionable. I .... BELLO Would if you could, lame duck. A downpour we want not your drizzle. BLOOM To drive me mad! Moll! I forgot! Forgive! Moll .... We .... Still ..... BELLO (ruthlessly) No, Leopold Bloom, all is changed by woman's will since you 3150 slept horizontal in Sleepy Hollow your night of twenty years. Return and see. (Old Sleepy Hollow calls over the wold.) SLEEPY HOLLOW Rip van Wink! Rip van Winkle! BLOOM (in tattered mocassins with a rusty fowlingpiece, tiptoeing, fingertipping, his haggard bony bearded face peering through the diamond panes, cries out) I see her! It's she! The first night at Mat Dillon's! But that dress, the green! And her hair is dyed gold and he .... BELLO 3160 (laughs mockingly) That's your daughter, you owl, with a Mullingar student. (Milly Bloom, fairhaired, greenvested, slimsandalled, her blue scarf in the seawind simply swirling, breaks from the arms of her lover and calls, her young eyes wonderwide.) MILLY My! It's Papli! But, O Papli, how old you've grown! BELLO Changed, eh? Our whatnot, our writingtable where we never wrote, aunt Hegarty's armchair, our classic reprints of old masters. A man and his 3170 menfriends are living there in clover. The Cuckoos' Rest! Why not? How 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 gander O. BLOOM They.... I .... BELLO (cuttingly) Their heelmarks will stamp the Brusselette carpet you bought at Wren's auction. In their horseplay with Moll the romp to find the buck flea 3180 in her breeches they will deface the little statue you carried home in the rain 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 Hampton Leedom's. BLOOM Ten and six. The act of low scoundrels. Let me go. I will return. I will prove ... A VOICE Swear! 3190 (Bloom clenches his fists and crawls forward, a bowieknife between his teeth.) BELLO As a paying guest or a kept man? Too late. You have made your secondbest bed and others must lie in it. Your epitaph is written. You are down and out and don't you forget it, old bean. BLOOM Justice! All Ireland versus one! Has nobody ...? (he bites his thumb) BELLO Die and be damned to you if you have any sense of decency or grace about 3200 you. I can give you a rare old wine that'll send you skipping to hell and 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, Papli! BLOOM 3210 (clasps his head) My willpower! Memory! I have sinned! I have suff.... (he weeps tearlessly) BELLO (sneers) Crybabby! Crocodile tears! (Bloom, broken, closely veiled for the sacrifice, sobs, his face to the earth. The passing bell is heard. Darkshawled figures of the circumcised, in sackcloth and ashes, stand by the wailing wall, M. Shulomowitz, Joseph Goldwater, Moses Herzog, Harris Rosenberg, M. Moisel, J. Citron, Minnie Watchman, P. Mastiansky, the reverend Leopold Abramovitz, chazen. With swaying arms they 3220 wail in pneuma over the recreant Bloom.) THE CIRCUMCISED (in dark guttural chant as they cast dead sea fruit upon him, no flowers) Shema Israel Adonai Elohenu Adonai Echad. VOICES (sighing) So he's gone. Ah yes. Yes, indeed. Bloom? Never heard of him. No? Queer kind of chap. There's the widow. That so? Ah, yes. (From the suttee pyre the flame of gum camphire ascends. The pall of incense smoke screens and disperses. Out of her oakframe a nymph with hair unbound, lightly clad in teabrown artcolours, 3230 descends from her grotto and passing under interlacing yews stands over Bloom.) THE YEWS (their leaves whispering) Sister. Our sister. Ssh! THE NYMPH (softly) Mortal! (kindly) Nay, dost not weepest! BLOOM (crawls jellily forward under the boughs, streaked by sunlight, with dignity) This position. I felt it was expected of me. Force of habit. THE NYMPH 3240 Mortal! You found me in evil company, highkickers, coster picnicmakers, 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 by the stale smut of clubmen, stories to disturb callow youth, ads for transparencies, truedup dice and bustpads, proprietary articles and why wear a truss with testimonial from ruptured gentleman. Useful hints to the married. BLOOM (lifts a turtle head towards her lap) We have met before. On another star. 3250 THE NYMPH (sadly) Rubber goods. Neverrip brand as supplied to the aristocracy. Corsets for men. I cure fits or money refunded. Unsolicited testimonials for Professor Waldmann's wonderful chest exuber. My bust developed four inches in three weeks, reports Mrs Gus Rublin with photo. BLOOM You mean Photo Bits? THE NYMPH I do. You bore me away, framed me in oak and tinsel, set me above your marriage couch. Unseen, one summer eve, you kissed me in four places. 3260 And with loving pencil you shaded my eyes, my bosom and my shame. BLOOM (humbly kisses her long hair) Your classic curves, beautiful immortal, I was glad to look on you, to praise you, a thing of beauty, almost to pray. THE NYMPH During dark nights I heard your praise. BLOOM (quickly) Yes, yes. You mean that I.... Sleep reveals the worst side of everyone, children perhaps excepted. I know I fell out of bed or rather was pushed. Steel wine is said to cure snoring. For the rest there is that English 3270 invention, pamphlet of which I received some days ago, incorrectly addressed. It claims to afford a noiseless, inoffensive vent. (he sighs) 'Twas ever thus. Frailty, thy name is marriage. THE NYMPH (her fingers in her ears) And words. They are not in my dictionary. BLOOM You understood them? THE YEWS Ssh! THE NYMPH 3280 (covers her face with her hands) What have I not seen in that chamber? What must my eyes look down on? BLOOM (apologetically) I know. Soiled personal linen, wrong side up with care. The quoits are loose. From Gibraltar by long sea long ago. THE NYMPH (bends her head) Worse, worse! BLOOM (reflects precautiously) That antiquated commode. It wasn't her weight. She scaled just eleven stone nine. She put on nine pounds after weaning. It 3290 was a crack and want of glue. Eh? And that absurd orangekeyed utensil which has only one handle. (The sound of a waterfall is heard in bright cascade.) THE WATERFALL Poulaphouca Poulaphouca Poulaphouca Poulaphouca. THE YEWS (mingling their boughs) Listen. Whisper. She is right, our sister. We grew by Poulaphouca waterfall. We gave shade on languorous summer days. JOHN WYSE NOLAN 3300 (in the background, in Irish National Forester's uniform, doffs his plumed hat) Prosper! Give shade on languorous days, trees of Ireland! THE YEWS (murmuring) Who came to Poulaphouca with the High School excursion? Who left his nutquesting classmates to seek our shade? BLOOM (scared) High School of Poula? Mnemo? Not in full possession of faculties. Concussion. Run over by tram. THE ECHO Sham! 3310 BLOOM (pigeonbreasted, bottleshouldered, padded, in nondescript juvenile grey and black striped suit, too small for him, white tennis shoes, bordered stockings with turnover tops and a red schoolcap with badge) I was in my teens, a growing boy. A little then sufficed, a jolting car, the mingling odours of the ladies' cloakroom and lavatory, the throng penned tight on the old Royal stairs (for they love crushes, instinct of the herd, and the dark sexsmelling theatre unbridles vice), even a pricelist of their hosiery. And then the heat. There were sunspots that summer. End of school. And tipsycake. Halcyon days. 3320 (Halcyon Days, High School boys in blue and white football 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 Leopold Bloom.) THE HALCYON DAYS Mackerel! Live us again. Hurray! (they cheer) BLOOM (hobbledehoy, warmgloved, mammamufflered, starred with spent snowballs, struggles to rise) Again! I feel sixteen! What a lark! Let's ring 3330 all the bells in Montague street. (he cheers feebly) Hurray for the High School! THE ECHO Fool! THE YEWS (rustling) She is right, our sister. Whisper. (Whispered kisses are heard in all the wood. Faces of hamadryads peep out from the boles and among the leaves and break, blossoming into bloom.) Who profaned our silent shade? THE NYMPH (coyly, through parting fingers) There? In the open air? 3340 THE YEWS (sweeping downward) Sister, yes. And on our virgin sward. THE WATERFALL Poulaphouca Poulaphouca Phoucaphouca Phoucaphouca. THE NYMPH (with wide fingers) O, infamy! BLOOM I was precocious. Youth. The fauna. I sacrificed to the god of the forest. The flowers that bloom in the spring. It was pairing time. Capillary 3350 attraction is a natural phenomenon. Lotty Clarke, flaxenhaired, I saw at her 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 humid nostrils through the foliage.) STAGGERING BOB (large teardrops rolling from his prominent eyes, snivels) Me. Me see. BLOOM 3360 Simply satisfying a need I... (with pathos) No girl would when I went girling. Too ugly. They wouldn't play .... (High on Ben Howth through rhododendrons a nannygoat passes, plumpuddered, buttytailed, dropping currants.) THE NANNYGOAT (bleats) Megeggaggegg! Nannannanny! BLOOM (hatless, flushed, covered with burrs of thistledown and gorsespine) Regularly engaged. Circumstances alter cases. (he gazes intently downwards on the water) Thirtytwo head over heels per second. Press 3370 nightmare. Giddy Elijah. Fall from cliff. Sad end of government printer's clerk. (Through silversilent summer air the dummy of Bloom, rolled in a mummy, rolls roteatingly from the Lion's Head cliff into the purple waiting waters.) THE DUMMYMUMMY Bbbbblllllblblblblobschb! (Far out in the bay between Bailey and Kish lights the Erin's King sails, sending a broadening plume of coalsmoke from her funnel towards the land.) 3380 COUNCILLOR NANNETII (alone on deck, in dark alpaca, yellowkitefaced, his hand in his waistcoat opening, declaims) When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my epitaph be written. I have ... BLOOM Done. Prff! THE NYMPH (loftily) We immortals, as you saw today, have not such a place and no hair there either. We are stonecold and pure. We eat electric light. (she arches her body in lascivious crispation, placing her forefinger in her mouth) 3390 Spoke to me. Heard from behind. How then could you ...? BLOOM (pawing the heather abjectly) O, I have been a perfect pig. Enemas too I have administered. One third of a pint of quassia to which add a tablespoonful of rocksalt. Up the fundament. With Hamilton Long's syringe, the ladies' friend. THE NYMPH In my presence. The powderpuff. (she blushes and makes a knee) And the rest! BLOOM 3400 (dejected) Yes. Peccavi! I have paid homage on that living altar where the 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 treestems, cooeeing) THE VOICE OF KITTY (in the thicket) Show us one of them cushions. THE VOICE OF FLORRY Here. (A grouse wings clumsily through the underwood.) 3410 THE VOICE OF LYNCH (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 assegai, striding through a crackling canebrake over beechmast and acorns) Hot! Hot! Ware Sitting Bull! BLOOM It overpowers me. The warm impress of her warm form. Even to sit where a 3420 woman has sat, especially with divaricated thighs, as though to grant the last favours, most especially with previously well uplifted white sateen coatpans. So womanly, full. It fills me full. THE WATERFALL Phillaphulla Poulaphouca Poulaphouca Poulaphouca. THE YEWS Ssh! Sister, speak! THE NYMPH (eyeless, in nun's white habit, coif and hugewinged wimple, softly, with 3430 remote eyes) Tranquilla convent. Sister Agatha. Mount Carmel. The apparitions of Knock and Lourdes. No more desire. (she reclines her head, sighing) Only the ethereal. Where dreamy creamy gull waves o'er the waters dull. (Bloom half rises. His back trouserbutton snaps.) THE BUTTON Bip! (Two sluts of the Coombe dance rainily by, shawled, yelling flatly.) THE SLUTS O, Leopold lost the pin of his drawers 3440 He didn't know what to do, To keep it up, To keep it up. BLOOM (coldly) You have broken the spell. The last straw. If there were only ethereal where would you all be, postulants and novices? Shy but willing like an ass pissing. THE YEWS (their silverfoil of leaves precipitating, their skinny arms aging and swaying) Deciduously! 3450 THE NYMPH (her features hardening, gropes in the folds of her habit) Sacrilege! To attempt my virtue! (a large moist stain appears on her robe) Sully my innocence! You are not fit to touch the garment of a pure woman. (she clutches again in her robe) Wait. Satan, you'll sing no more lovesongs. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. (she draws a poniard and, clad in the sheathmail of an elected knight of nine, strikes at his loins) Nekum! BLOOM (starts up, seizes her hand) Hoy! Nebrakada! Cat o' nine lives! Fair play, madam. No pruningknife. The fox and the grapes, is it? What do you lack 3460 with your barbed wire? Crucifix not thick enough? (he clutches her veil) A holy abbot you want or Brophy, the lame gardener, or the spoutless statue of the watercarrier, or good mother Alphonsus, eh Reynard? THE NYMPH (with a cry flees from him unveiled, her plaster cast cracking, a cloud of stench escaping from the cracks) Poli ...! BLOOM (calls after her) As if you didn't get it on the double yourselves. No jerks and multiple mucosities all over you. I tried it. Your strength our weakness. What's our studfee? What will you pay on the nail? You fee mendancers on 3470 the Riviera, I read. (the fleeing nymph raises a keen) Eh? I have sixteen 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.) BELLA You'll know me the next time. .

. BLOOM (composed, regards her) Passe. Mutton dressed as lamb. Long in the tooth and superfluous hair. A raw onion the last thing at night would 3480 benefit your complexion. And take some double chin drill. Your eyes are as 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. BELLA (contemptuously) You're not game, in fact. (her sowcunt barks) Fbhracht! BLOOM (contemptuously) Clean your nailless middle finger first, your bully's cold spunk is dripping from your cockscomb. Take a handful of hay and wipe yourself. 3490 BELLA I know you, canvasser! Dead cod! BLOOM I saw him, kipkeeper! Pox and gleet vendor! .

. BELLA (turns to the piano) Which of you was playing the dead march from Saul? ZOE Me. Mind your cornflowers. (she darts to the piano and bangs chords on it with crossed arms) The cat's ramble through the slag. (she glances back) Eh? Who's making love to my sweeties? (she darts back to the table) 3500 What's yours is mine and what's mine is my own. (Kitty, disconcerted, coats her teeth with the silver paper. Bloom approaches Zoe.) BLOOM (gently) Give me back that potato, will you? ZOE Forfeits, a fine thing and a superfine thing. BLOOM (with feeling) It is nothing, but still, a relic of poor mamma. ZOE 3510 Give a thing and take it back God'll ask you where is that You'll say you don't know God'll send you down below. BLOOM There is a memory attached to it. I should like to have it. STEPHEN To have or not to have that is the question. ZOE Here. (she hauls up a reef of her slip, revealing her bare thigh, and unrolls 3520 the potato from the top of her stocking) Those that hides knows where to find. BELLA (frowns) Here. This isn't a musical peepshow. And don't you smash that piano. Who's paying here? (She goes to the pianola. Stephen fumbles in his pocket and, taking out a banknote by its corner, hands it to her.) STEPHEN (with exaggerated politeness) This silken purse I made out of the sow's ear of the public. Madam, excuse me. If you allow me. (he indicates vaguely 3530 Lynch and Bloom) We are all in the same sweepstake, Kinch and Lynch. Dans ce bordel o tenons nostre tat. LYNCH (calls from the hearth) Dedalus! Give her your blessing for me. STEPHEN (hands Bella a coin) Gold. She has it. BELLA (looks at the money, then at Stephen, then at Zoe, Florry and Kitty) Do you want three girls? It's ten shillings here. STEPHEN 3540 (delightedly) A hundred thousand apologies. (he fumbles again and takes out and hands her two crowns) Permit, brevi manu, my sight is somewhat troubled. (Bella goes to the table to count the money while Stephen talks to himself in monosyllables. Zoe bends over the table. Kitty leans over Zoe's neck. Lynch gets up, rights his cap and, clasping Kitty's waist, adds his head to the group.) FLORRY (strives heavily to rise) Ow! My foot's asleep. (She limps over to the table. Bloom approaches.) 3550 BELLA, ZOE, KITTY, LYNCH, BLOOM (chattering and squabbling) The gentleman... ten shillings.... paying for the three... allow me a moment... this gentleman pays separate.... who's touching it?... ow!... mind who you're pinching... are you staying the night or a short time?... who did?... you're a liar, excuse me... the gentleman paid down like a gentleman ... drink ... it's long after eleven. STEPHEN (at the pianola, making a gesture of abhorrence) No bottles! What, eleven? A riddle! ZOE 3560 (lifting up her pettigown and folding a half sovereign into the top of her stocking) Hard earned on the flat of my back. LYNCH (lifting Kitty from the table) Come! KITTY Wait. (she clutches the two crowns) FLORRY And me? LYNCH 3570 Hoopla! (He lifts her, carries her and bumps her down on the sofa.) STEPHEN The fox crew, the cocks flew, The bells in heaven Were striking eleven. 'Tis time for her poor soul To get out of heaven. BLOOM (quietly lays a half sovereign on the table between Bella and Florry) So. 3580 Allow me. (he takes up the poundnote) Three times ten. We're square. BELLA (admiringly) You're such a slyboots, old cocky. I could kiss you. ZOE (points) Him? Deep as a drawwell. (Lynch bends Kitty back over the sofa and kisses her. Bloom goes with the poundnote to Stephen.) BLOOM This is yours. 3590 STEPHEN How is that? The distrait or absentminded beggar. (He fumbles again in his pocket and draws out a handful of coins. An object falls.) That fell. BLOOM (stooping, picks up and hands a box of matches) This. STEPHEN Lucifer. Thanks. BLOOM (quietly) You had better hand over that cash to me to take care of. Why pay more? 3600 STEPHEN (hands him all his coins) Be just before you are generous. BLOOM I will but is it wise? (he counts) One, seven, eleven, and five. Six. Eleven. I don't answer for what you may have lost. STEPHEN Why striking eleven? Proparoxyton. Moment before the next Lessing says. Thirsty fox. (he laughs loudly) Burying his grandmother. Probably he killed her. BLOOM 3610 That is one pound six and eleven. One pound seven, say. STEPHEN Doesn't matter a rambling damn. BLOOM No, but.... STEPHEN (comes to the table) Cigarette, please. (Lynch tosses a cigarette from the sofa to the table) And so Georgina Johnson is dead and married. (A cigarette appears on the table. Stephen looks at it) Wonder. Parlour magic. Married. Hm. (he strikes a match and proceeds to light the cigarette 3620 with enigmatic melancholy) LYNCH (watching him) You would have a better chance of lighting it if you held the match nearer. STEPHEN (brings the match near his eye) Lynx eye. Must get glasses. Broke them yesterday. Sixteen years ago. Distance. The eye sees all flat. (He draws the match away. It goes out.) Brain thinks. Near: far. Ineluctable modality of the visible. (he frowns mysteriously) Hm. Sphinx. The beast that has two backs at midnight. Married. 3630 ZOE It was a commercial traveller married her and took her away with him. FLORRY (nods) Mr Lambe from London. STEPHEN Lamb of London, who takest away the sins of our world. LYNCH (embracing Kitty on the sofa, chants deeply) Dona nobis pacem. (The cigarette slips from Stephen 's fingers. Bloom picks it up and throws it in the grate.) 3640 BLOOM Don't smoke. You ought to eat. Cursed dog I met. (to Zoe) You have nothing? ZOE Is he hungry? STEPHEN (extends his hand to her smiling and chants to the air of the bloodoath in (The Dusk of the Gods) Hangende Hunger, Fragende Frau, 3650 Macht uns alle kaputt. ZOE (tragically) Hamlet, I am thy father's gimlet! (she takes his hand) Blue eyes beauty I'll read your hand. (she points to his forehead) No wit, no wrinkles. (she counts) Two, three, Mars, that's courage. (Stephen shakes his head) No kid. LYNCH Sheet lightning courage. The youth who could not shiver and shake. (to Zoe) Who taught you palmistry? ZOE 3660 (turns) Ask my ballocks that I haven't got. (to Stephen) I see it in your face. The eye, like that. (she frowns with lowered head) LYNCH (laughing, slaps Kitty behind twice) Like that. Pandybat. .

. (Twice loudly a pandybat cracks, the coffin of the pianola flies open, the bald little round jack-in-the-box head of Father Dolan springs up.) FATHER DOLAN Any boy want flogging? Broke his glasses? Lazy idle little schemer. See it in your eye. 3670 (Mild, benign, rectorial, reproving, the head of Don John Conmee rises from the pianola coffin.) DON JOHN CONMEE Now, Father Dolan! Now. I'm sure that Stephen is a very good little boy! .

. ZOE (examining Stephen's palm) Woman's hand. STEPHEN (murmurs) Continue. Lie. Hold me. Caress. I never could read His handwriting except His criminal thumbprint on the haddock. ZOE 3680 What day were you born? STEPHEN Thursday. Today. ZOE Thursday's child has far to go. (she traces lines on his hand) Line of fate. Influential friends. FLORRY (pointing) Imagination. ZOE Mount of the moon. You'll meet with a .... (she peers at his hands abruptly) 3690 I won't tell you what's not good for you. Or do you want to know? BLOOM (detaches her fingers and offers his palm) More harm than good. Here. Read mine. BELLA Show. (she turns up Bloom's hand) I thought so. Knobby knuckles for the women. ZOE (peering at Bloom's palm) Gridiron. Travels beyond the sea and marry money. 3700 BLOOM Wrong. ZOE (quickly) O, I see. Short little finger. Henpecked husband. That wrong? .

. (Black Liz, a huge rooster hatching in a chalked circle, rises, stretches her wings and clucks.) BLACK LIZ Gara. Klook. Klook. Klook. (she sidles from her newlaid egg and waddles off) .

. BLOOM 3710 (points to his hand) That weal there is an accident. Fell and cut it twentytwo years ago. I was sixteen. ZOE I see, says the blind man. Tell us news. STEPHEN See? Moves to one great goal. I am twentytwo. Sixteen years ago he was twentytwo too. Sixteen years ago I twentytwo tumbled. Twentytwo years ago he sixteen fell off his hobbyhorse. (he winces) Hurt my hand somewhere. Must see a dentist. Money? (Zoe whispers to Florry. They giggle. Bloom releases his hand and 3720 writes idly on the table in backhand, pencilling slow curves.) FLORRY What? .

. (A hackneycar, number three hundred and twentyfour, with a gallantbuttocked mare, driven by James Barton, Harmony avenue, Donnybrook, trots past. Blazes Boylan and Lenehan sprawl swaying on the sideseats. The Ormond boots crouches behind on the axle. Sadly over the crossblind Lydia Douce and Mina Kennedy gaze.) THE BOOTS 3730 (jogging, mocks them with thumb and wriggling wormfingers) Haw haw have you the horn? (Bronze by gold they whisper.) ZOE (to Florry) Whisper. (she whispers again) (Over the well of the car Blazes Boylan leans, his boater straw set sideways, a red flower in his mouth. Lenehan in yachtsman's cap and white shoes officiously detaches a long hair from Blazes Boylan's coat shoulder.) LENEHAN 3740 Ho! What do I here behold? Were you brushing the cobwebs off a few quims? BOYLAN (sated, smiles) Plucking a turkey. LENEHAN A good night's work. BOYLAN (holding up four thick bluntungulated fingers, winks) Blazes Kate! Up to sample or your money back. (he holds out a forefinger) Smell that. LENEHAN 3750 (smells gleefully) Ah! Lobster and mayonnaise. Ah! ZOE AND FLORRY (laugh together) Ha ha ha ha. BOYLAN (jumps surely from the car and calls loudly for all to hear) Hello, Bloom! Mrs Bloom dressed yet? BLOOM (in flunkey's prune plush coat and kneebreeches, buff stockings and powdered wig) I'm afraid not, sir. The last articles ..... BOYLAN 3760 (tosses him sixpence) Here, to buy yourself a gin and splash. (he hangs his hat smartly on a peg of Bloom 's antlered head) Show me in. I have a little private business with your wife, you understand? BLOOM Thank you, sir. Yes, sir. Madam Tweedy is in her bath, sir. MARION He ought to feel himself highly honoured. (she plops splashing out of the water) Raoul darling, come and dry me. I'm in my pelt. Only my new hat and a carriage sponge. BOYLAN 3770 (a merry twinkle in his eye) Topping! BELLA What? What is it? (Zoe whispers to her.) MARION Let him look, the pishogue! Pimp! And scourge himself! I'll write to a powerful prostitute or Bartholomona, the bearded woman, to raise weals out on him an inch thick and make him bring me back a signed and stamped receipt. 3780 BOYLAN (clasps himself) Here, I can't hold this little lot much longer. (he strides off on stiff cavalry legs) BELLA (laughing) Ho ho ho ho. BOYLAN (to Bloom, over his shoulder) You can apply your eye to the keyhole and play with yourself while I just go through her a few times. BLOOM Thank you, sir. I will, sir. May I bring two men chums to witness the deed 3790 and take a snapshot? (he holds out an ointment jar) Vaseline, sir? Orangeflower...? Lukewarm water...? KITTY (from the sofa) Tell us, Florry. Tell us. What ... (Florry whispers to her. Whispering lovewords murmur, liplapping loudly, poppysmic plopslop.) MINA KENNEDY (her eyes upturned) O, it must be like the scent of geraniums and lovely peaches! O, he simply idolises every bit of her! Stuck together! Covered 3800 with kisses! LYDIA DOUCE (her mouth opening) Yumyum. O, he's carrying her round the room doing it! Ride a cockhorse. You could hear them in Paris and New York. Like mouthfuls of strawberries and cream. KITTY (laughing) Hee hee hee. BOYLAN'S VOICE (sweetly, hoarsely, in the pit of his stomach) Ah! Godblazegruk- brukarchkhrasht! 3810 MARION'S VOICE (hoarsely, sweetly, rising to her throat) O! Weeshwashtkissinapoo- isthnapoohuck? BLOOM (his eyes wildly dilated, clasps himself) Show! Hide! Show! Plough her! More! Shoot!   BELLA, ZOE, FLORRY, KITTY Ho ho! Ha ha! Hee hee! LYNCH (points) The mirror up to nature. (he laughs) Hu hu hu hu hu! 3820 (Stephen and Bloom gaze in the mirror. The face of William Shakespeare, beardless, appears there, rigid in facial paralysis, crowned by the reflection of the reindeer antlered hatrack in the hall.) SHAKESPEARE (in dignified ventriloquy) 'Tis the loud laugh bespeaks the vacant mind. (to Bloom) Thou thoughtest as how thou wastest invisible. Gaze. (he crows with a black capon 's laugh) Iagogo! How my Oldfellow chokit his Thursdaymornun. Iagogogo! BLOOM 3830 (smiles yellowly at the three whores) When will I hear the joke? ZOE Before you're twice married and once a widower. BLOOM Lapses are condoned. Even the great Napoleon when measurements were taken next the skin after his death ... (Mrs Dignam, widow woman, her snubnose and cheeks flushed with deathtalk, tears and Tunney's tawny sherry, hurries by in her weeds, her bonnet awry, rouging and powdering her cheeks, lips and nose, a pen chivvying her brood of cygnets. Beneath her skirt 3840 appear her late husband's everyday trousers and turnedup boots, large eights. She holds a Scottish Widows' insurance policy and a large marquee umbrella under which her brood run with her, Patsy hopping on one shod foot, his collar loose, a hank of porksteaks dangling, Freddy whimpering, Susy with a crying cod's mouth, Alice struggling with the baby. She cuffs them on, her streamers flaunting aloft.) FREDDY Ah, ma, you're dragging me along! 3850 SUSY Mamma, the beeftea is fizzing over! SHAKESPEARE (with paralytic rage) Weda seca whokilla farst. (The face of Martin Cunningham, bearded, refeatures Shakespeare's beardless face. The marquee umbrella sways drunkenly, the children run aside. Under the umbrella appears Mrs Cunningham in merry widow hat and kimono gown. She glides sidling and bowing, twirling japanesily.) MRS CUNNINGHAM 3860 (sings) And they call me the jewel of Asia! MARTIN CUNNINGHAM (gazes on her, impassive) Immense! Most bloody awful demirep! .

. STEPHEN Et exaltabuntur cornua iusti. Queens lay with prize bulls. Remember Pasiphae for whose lust my grandoldgrossfather made the first confessionbox. Forget not Madam Grissel Steevens nor the suine scions of the house of Lambert. And Noah was drunk with wine. And his ark was open. 3870 BELLA None of that here. Come to the wrong shop. LYNCH Let him alone. He's back from Paris. ZOE (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 he stands with shrugged shoulders, finny hands outspread, a painted smile on his face.) LYNCH 3880 (pommelling on the sofa) Rmm Rmm Rmm Rrrrrrmmmm. STEPHEN (gabbles with marionette jerks) Thousand places of entertainment to expense your evenings with lovely ladies saling gloves and other things perhaps hers heart beerchops perfect fashionable house very eccentric where lots cocottes beautiful dressed much about princesses like are dancing cancan and walking there parisian clowneries extra foolish for bachelors foreigns the same if talking a poor english how much smart they are on things love and sensations voluptuous. Misters very selects for is pleasure must to visit heaven and hell show with mortuary candles and they 3890 tears silver which occur every night. Perfectly shocking terrific of religion's 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! LYNCH Vive le vampire! THE WHORES Bravo! Parleyvoo! STEPHEN 3900 (with head back, laughs loudly, clapping himself grimacing) Great success 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. 3910 BELLA (clapping her belly sinks back on the sofa, with a shout of laughter) An omelette on the.... Ho! ho! ho! ho!... omelette on the.... STEPHEN (mincingly) I love you, sir darling. Speak you englishman tongue for double entente cordiale. O yes, mon loup. How much cost? Waterloo. Watercloset. (he ceases suddenly and holds up a forefinger) BELLA (laughing) Omelette.... 3920 THE WHORES (laughing) Encore! Encore! STEPHEN Mark me. I dreamt of a watermelon. ZOE Go abroad and love a foreign lady. LYNCH Across the world for a wife. FLORRY Dreams goes by contraries. 3930 STEPHEN (extends his arms) It was here. Street of harlots. In Serpentine avenue Beelzebub showed me her, a fubsy widow. Where's the red carpet spread? BLOOM (approaching Stephen) Look .... STEPHEN No, I flew. My foes beneath me. And ever shall be. World without end. (he cries) Pater! Free! BLOOM I say, look... 3940 STEPHEN Break my spirit, will he? O merde alors! (he cries, his vulture talons sharpened) Hol! Hillyho! .

. (Simon Dedalus' voice hilloes in answer, somewhat sleepy but ready.) SIMON That's all right. (he swoops uncertainly through the air, wheeling, uttering cries of heartening, on strong ponderous buzzard wings) Ho, boy! Are you going to win? Hoop! Pschatt! Stable with those halfcastes. Wouldn't let them within the bawl of an ass. Head up! Keep our flag flying! An eagle 3950 gules volant in a field argent displayed. Ulster king at arms! Haihoop! (he makes the beagle's call, giving tongue) Bulbul! Burblblburblbl! Hai, boy! (The fronds and spaces of the wallpaper file rapidly crosscountry. A stout fox, drawn from covert, brush pointed, having buried his grandmother, runs swift for the open, brighteyed, seeking badger earth, under the leaves. The pack of staghounds follows, nose to the ground, sniffing their quarry, beaglebaying, burblbrbling to be blooded. Ward Union huntsmen and huntswomen live with them, hot for a kill. From Six Mile Point, Flathouse, Nine Mile Stone follow the footpeople with knotty sticks, hayforks, salmongaffs, 3960 lassos, flockmasters with stockwhips, bearbaiters with tomtoms, toreadors with bullswords, grey negroes waving torches. The crowd bawls of dicers, crown and anchor players, thimbleriggers, broadsmen. Crows and touts, hoarse bookies in high wizard hats clamour deafeningly.) THE CROWD Card of the races. Racing card! Ten to one the field! Tommy on the clay here! Tommy on the clay! Ten to one bar one! Ten to one bar one! 3970 Try your luck on Spinning Jenny! 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, his mane moonfoaming, his eyeballs stars. The field follows, a bunch of bucking mounts. Skeleton horses, Sceptre, Maximum the Second, Zinfandel, the duke of Westminster's Shotover, Repulse, the duke of Beaufort's Ceylon, prix de Paris. Dwarfs ride them, 3980 rustyarmoured, leaping, leaping in their, in their saddles. Last in a drizzle of rain on a brokenwinded isabelle nag, Cock of the North, the favourite, honey cap, green jacket, orange sleeves, Garrett Deasy up, gripping the reins, a hockeystick at the ready. His nag on spavined whitegaitered feet jogs along the rocky road.) THE ORANGE LODGES (jeering) Get down and push, mister. Last lap! You'll be home the night! GARRETT DEASY (bolt upright, his nailscraped face plastered with postagestamps, brandishes his hockeystick, his blue eyes flashing in the prism of the chandelier as his 3990 mount lopes by at schooling gallop) Per vias rectas! (A yoke of buckets leopards all over him and his rearing nag a torrent of mutton broth with dancing coins of carrots, barley, onions, turnips, potatoes.) THE GREEN LODGES Soft day, sir John! Soft day, your honour! .

. (Private Carr, Private Compton and Cissy Caffrey pass beneath the windows, singing in discord.) .

. STEPHEN Hark! Our friend noise in the street. 4000 ZOE (holds up her hand) Stop! .

. PRIVATE CARR, PRIVATE COMPTON AND CISSY CAFFREY Yet I've a sort of a Yorkshire relish for... .

. ZOE That's me. (she claps her hands) Dance! Dance! (she runs to the pianola) Who has twopence? BLOOM Who'll ...? LYNCH 4010 (handing her coins) Here. STEPHEN (cracking his fingers impatiently) Quick! Quick! Where's my augur's rod? (he runs to the piano and takes his ashplant, beating his foot in tripudium) ZOE (turns the drumhandle) There. (She drops two pennies in the slot. Gold, pink and violet lights start forth. The drum turns purring in low hesitation waltz. [P] 4020 .

. Professor Goodwin, in a bowknotted periwig, in court dress, wearing a 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) .

. ZOE (twirls round herself, heeltapping) Dance. Anybody here for there? Who'll dance? Clear the table. (The pianola with changing lights plays in waltz time the prelude of My Girl's a Yorkshire Girl. Stephen throws his ashplant on the table and seizes Zoe round the waist. Florry and Bella push the table towards the fireplace. Stephen, arming Zoe with exaggerated 4030 grace, begins to waltz her round the room. Bloom stands aside. Her sleeve filling from gracing arms reveals a white fleshflower of vaccination. .

. Between the curtains Professor Maginni inserts a leg =[MAGa on the toepoint of which spins a silk hat. With a deft kick he sends it 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 4040 breastbone, bows, and fondles his flower and buttons.) MAGINNI The poetry of motion, art of calisthenics. No connection with Madam Legget Byrne's or Levenston's. Fancy dress balls arranged. Deportment. The Katty Lanner step. So. Watch me! My terpsichorean abilities. (he minuets forward three paces on tripping bee's feet) Tout le monde en avant! Révérence! Tout le monde en place! (The prelude ceases. Professor Goodwin, beating vague arms shrivels, sinks, his live cape filling about the stool. .

. The air in firmer waltz time sounds. Stephen and Zoe circle freely. The lights 4050 change, glow, fide gold rosy violet.) .

. THE PIANOLA Two young fellows were talking about their girls, girls, girls, Sweethearts they'd left behind ...... .

. (From a corner the morning hours run out, goldhaired, [P] slimsandalled, in girlish blue, waspwaisted, with innocent hands. Nimbly they dance, twirling their skipping ropes. The hours of noon follow in amber gold. Laughing, linked, high haircombs flashing, they catch the sun in mocking mirrors, lifting their arms.) MAGINNI 4060 (clipclaps glovesilent hands) Carré! Avant deux! Breathe evenly! Balancé! (The morning and noon hours waltz in their places, turning, advancing to each other, shaping their curves, bowing visavis. Cavaliers behind them arch and suspend their arms, with hands descending to, touching, rising from their shoulders.) HOURS You may touch my. CAVALIERS May I touch your? HOURS 4070 O, but lightly! CAVALIERS O, so lightly! .

. THE PIANOLA My little shy little lass has a waist. .

. (Zoe and Stephen turn boldly with looser swing. .

. The twilight hours advance from long landshadows, dispersed, lagging, languideyed, their cheeks delicate with cipria and false faint bloom. They are in grey gauze with dark bat sleeves that flutter in the landbreeze.) MAGINNI 4080 Avant huit! Traversé! Salut! Cours de mains! Croisé! (The night hours, one by one, steal to the last place. Morning, noon and twilight hours retreat before them. They are masked, with daggered hair and bracelets of dull bells. Weary they curchycurchy under veils.) THE BRACELETS Heigho! Heigho! .

. ZOE (twirling, her hand to her brow) O! .

. MAGINNI 4090 Les tiroirs! Chaîne de dames! La corbeille! Dos à dos! (Arabesquing wearily they weave a pattern on the floor, weaving, unweaving, curtseying, twirling, simply swirling.) .

. ZOE I'm giddy! (She frees herself, droops on a chair. Stephen seizes Florry and turns with her.) .

. MAGINNI Boulangère! Les ronds! Les ponts! Chevaux de bois! Escargots! (Twining, receding, with interchanging hands the night hours link each each with arching arms in a mosaic of movements. Stephen 4100 and Florry turn cumbrously.) MAGINNI Dansez avec vos dames! Changez de dames! Donnez le petit bouquet à votre dame! Remerciez! MAGa]= .

. THE PIANOLA Best, best of all, Baraabum! .

. KITTY (jumps up) O, they played that on the hobbyhorses at the Mirus bazaar! (She runs to Stephen. He leaves Florry brusquely and seizes Kitty. 4110 .

. A screaming bittern's harsh high whistle shrieks. Groangrousegurgling Toft's cumbersome whirligig turns slowly the room right roundabout the room.) .

. THE PIANOLA My girl's a Yorkshire girl. .

. ZOE Yorkshire through and through. Come on all! (She seizes Florry and waltzes her.) STEPHEN Pas seul! (He wheels Kitty into Lynch's arms, snatches up his ashplant from 4120 the table and takes the floor. .

. All wheel whirl waltz twirl Bloombella Kittylynch Florryzoe jujuby women. Stephen with hat ashplant 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.) .

. THE PIANOLA Though she's a factory lass And wears no fancy clothes. 4130 .

. (Closeclutched swift swifter with glareblareflare scudding they scootlootshoot lumbering by. Baraabum!) .

. TUTTI Encore! Bis! Bravo! Encore! .

. SIMON Think of your mother's people! .

. STEPHEN Dance of death. .

. (Bang fresh barang bang of lacquey's bell, horse, nag, steer, piglings, Conmee on Christass, lame crutch and leg sailor in 4140 cockboat armfolded ropepulling hitching stamp hornpipe through and through. Baraabum! On nags hogs bellhorses Gadarene swine Corny in coffin steel shark stone onehandled Nelson two trickies Frauenzimmer plumstained from pram filling bawling Gum he's a champion. Fuseblue peer from barrel rev. evensong Love on hackney jaunt Blazes blind coddoubled bicyclers Dilly with snowcake no fancy clothes. Then in last switchback lumbering up and down bump mashtub sort of viceroy and reine relish for tublumber bumpshire rose. Baraabum!   .

. The couples fall aside. Stephen whirls giddily. Room whirls back. 4150 Eyes closed he totters. Red rails fly spacewards. Stars all around suns turn roundabout. Bright midges dance on walls. He stops dead.) STEPHEN Ho! .

. (Stephen's mother, emaciated, rises stark through the floor, in leper grey with a wreath of faded orangeblossoms and a torn bridal veil, her face worn and noseless, green with gravemould. Her hair is scant and lank. She fixes her bluecircled hollow eyesockets on Stephen and opens her toothless mouth uttering a silent word. A 4160 choir of virgins and confessors sing voicelessly.) THE CHOIR Liliata rutilantium te confessorum Iubilantium te virginum (From the top of a tower Buck Mulligan, in particoloured jester's dress of puce and yellow and clown's cap with curling bell, stands gaping at her, a smoking buttered split scone in his hand.) BUCK MULLIGAN She's beastly dead. The pity of it! Mulligan meets the afflicted mother. (he upturns his eyes) Mercurial Malachi! 4170 THE MOTHER (with the subtle smile of death's madness) I was once the beautiful May Goulding. I am dead. STEPHEN (horrorstruck) Lemur, who are you? No. What bogeyman's trick is this? BUCK MULLIGAN (shakes his curling capbell) The mockery of it! Kinch dogsbody killed her bitchbody. She kicked the bucket. (tears of molten butter fall from his eyes on to the scone) Our great sweet mother! Epi oinopa ponton THE MOTHER 4180 (comes nearer, breathing upon him softly her breath of wetted ashes) All must go through it, Stephen. More women than men in the world. You too. Time will come. STEPHEN (choking with fright, remorse and horror) They say I killed you, mother. He offended your memory. Cancer did it, not I. Destiny. THE MOTHER (a green rill of bile trickling from a side of her mouth) You sang that song to me. Love's bitter mystery. STEPHEN 4190 (eagerly) Tell me the word, mother, if you know now. The word known to all men. THE MOTHER Who saved you the night you jumped into the train at Dalkey with Paddy Lee? Who had pity for you when you were sad among the strangers? Prayer is allpowerful. Prayer for the suffering souls in the Ursuline manual and forty days' indulgence. Repent, Stephen. STEPHEN The ghoul! Hyena! THE MOTHER 4200 I pray for you in my other world. Get Dilly to make you that boiled rice every night after your brainwork. Years and years I loved you, O, my son, my firstborn, when you lay in my womb. .

. ZOE (fanning herself with the gratefan) I'm melting! FLORRY (points to Stephen) Look! He's white. BLOOM (goes to the window to open it more) Giddy. .

. THE MOTHER 4210 (with smouldering eyes) Repent! O, the fire of hell! STEPHEN (panting) His noncorrosive sublimate! The corpsechewer! Raw head and bloody bones. THE MOTHER (her face drawing near and nearer, sending out an ashen breath) Beware! (she raises her blackened withered right arm slowly towards Stephen's breast with outstretched finger) Beware God's hand! (A green crab with malignant red eyes sticks deep its grinning claws in Stephen's heart.) .

. 4220 STEPHEN (strangled with rage, his features drawn grey and old) Shite! BLOOM (at the window) What? STEPHEN Ah non, par exemple! The intellectual imagination! With me all or not at all. Non serviam! FLORRY Give him some cold water. Wait. (she rushes out) .

. THE MOTHER 4230 (wrings her hands slowly, moaning desperately) O Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on him! Save him from hell, O Divine Sacred Heart! STEPHEN No! No! No! Break my spirit, all of you, if you can! I'll bring you all to heel! THE MOTHER (in the agony of her deathrattle) Have mercy on Stephen, Lord, for my sake! Inexpressible was my anguish when expiring with love, grief and agony on Mount Calvary. .

. STEPHEN (He lifts his ashplant high with both hands and smashes the chandelier. .

. Time's livid final flame leaps and, in the following darkness, ruin of all space, shattered glass and toppling masonry.) .

. THE GASJET Pwfungg! .

. BLOOM Stop! LYNCH (rushes forward and seizes Stephen's hand) Here! Hold on! Don't run 4250 amok! BELLA Police! (Stephen, abandoning his ashplant, his head and arms thrown back stark, beats the ground and flies from the room, past the whores at the door.) BELLA (screams) After him! (The two whores rush to the halldoor. Lynch and Kitty and Zoe stampede from the room. They talk excitedly. Bloom follows, 4260 returns.) THE WHORES (jammed in the doorway, pointing) Down there. ZOE (pointing) There. There's something up. BELLA Who pays for the lamp? (she seizes Bloom's coattail) Here, you were with him. The lamp's broken. BLOOM (rushes to the hall, rushes back) What lamp, woman? 4270 A WHORE He tore his coat. BELLA (her eyes hard with anger and cupidity, points) Who's to pay for that? Ten shillings. You're a witness. BLOOM (snatches up Stephen's ashplant) Me? Ten shillings? Haven't you lifted enough off him? Didn't he ....? BELLA (loudly) Here, none of your tall talk. This isn't a brothel. A tenshilling 4280 house. BLOOM (His head under the lamp, pulls the chain. Puling, the gasjet lights up a crushed mauve purple shade. He raises the ashplant.) Only the chimney's broken. Here is all he .... BELLA (shrinks back and screams) Jesus! Don't! BLOOM (warding off a blow) To show you how he hit the paper. There's not sixpenceworth of damage done. Ten shillings! 4290 FLORRY (with a glass of water, enters) Where is he? BELLA Do you want me to call the police? BLOOM O, I know. Bulldog on the premises. But he's a Trinity student. Patrons of your establishment. Gentlemen that pay the rent. (he makes a masonic sign) Know what I mean? Nephew of the vicechancellor. You don't want a scandal. BELLA 4300 (angrily) Trinity. Coming down here ragging after the boatraces and paying nothing. Are you my commander here or? Where is he? I'll charge him! Disgrace him, I will! (she shouts) Zoe! Zoe! BLOOM (urgently) And if it were your own son in Oxford? (warningly) I know. BELLA (almost speechless) Who are. Incog! ZOE (in the doorway) There's a row on. BLOOM 4310 What? Where? (he throws a shilling on the table and starts) That's for the chimney. Where? I need mountain air. (He hurries out through the hall. The whores point. Florry follows, spilling water from her tilted tumbler. On the doorstep all the whores clustered talk volubly, pointing to the right where the fog has cleared off From the left arrives a jingling hackney car. It slows to in front of the house. Bloom at the halldoor perceives Corny Kelleher who is about to dismount from the car with two silent lechers. He averts his face. Bella from within the hall urges on her whores. They blow ickylickysticky yumyum kisses. Corny Kelleher 4320 replies with a ghastly lewd smile. The silent lechers turn to pay the jarvey. Zoe and Kitty still point right. .

. Bloom, parting them swiftly, draws his caliph's hood and poncho and hurries down the steps 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 4330 tongues, biting his heels, leaping at his taiL He walks, runs, zigzags, 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 4340 Dollard, Lenehan, Bartell d'Arcy, Joe Hynes, red Murray, editor 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, superintendent Laracy, Father Cowley, Crofton out of the Collector-general's, Dan Dawson, dental surgeon Bloom with 4350 tweezers, Mrs Bob Doran, Mrs Kennefick, Mrs Wyse Nolan, John Wyse Nolan, handsomemarriedwomanrubbedagainstwidebehind- inClonskeatram, the bookseller of Sweets of Sin, Miss Dubedatandshedidbedad, Mesdames Gerald and Stanislaus Moran of Roebuck, the managing clerk of Drimmie's, Wetherup, colonel Hayes, Mastiansky, Citron, Penrose, Aaron Figatner, Moses Herzog, Michael E Geraghty, Inspector Troy, Mrs Galbraith, the constable off Eccles street corner, old doctor Brady with stethoscope, the mystery man on the beach, a retriever, Mrs Miriam Dandrade and all her lovers.) 4360 THE HUE AND CRY (helterskelterpelterwelter) He's Bloom! Stop Bloom! Stopabloom! Stopperrobber! Hi! Hi! Stophim on the corner! .

. (At the corner of Beaver street beneath the scaffolding Bloom panting stops on the fringe of the noisy quarrelling knot, a lot not knowing a jot what hi! hi! row and wrangle round the whowhat brawlaltogether.) .

. STEPHEN (with elaborate gestures, breathing deeply and slowly) You are my guests. Uninvited. By virtue of the fifth of George and seventh of Edward. History 4370 to blame. Fabled by mothers of memory. PRIVATE CARR (to Cissy Caffrey) Was he insulting you? STEPHEN Addressed her in vocative feminine. Probably neuter. Ungenitive. VOICES No, he didn't. I seen him. The girl there. He was in Mrs Cohen's. What's up? Soldier and civilian. CISSY CAFFREY I was in company with the soldiers and they left me to do, you know, and 4380 the young man run up behind me. But I'm faithful to the man that's treating me though I'm only a shilling whore. VOICES Shesfaithfultheman. .

. STEPHEN (catches sight of Lynch's and Kitty's heads) Hail, Sisyphus. (he points to himself and the others) Poetic. Uropoetic. .

. CISSY CAFFREY Yes, to go with him. And me with a soldier friend. PRIVATE COMPTON 4390 He doesn't half want a thick ear, the blighter. Biff him one, Harry. PRIVATE CARR (to Cissy) Was he insulting you while me and him was having a piss? LORD TENNYSON (gentleman poet in Union Jack blazer and cricket flannels, bareheaded, flowingbearded) Theirs not to reason why. PRIVATE COMPTON Biff him, Harry. STEPHEN (to Private Compton) I don't know your name but you are quite right. 4400 Doctor Swift says one man in armour will beat ten men in their shirts. Shirt is synechdoche. Part for the whole. CISSY CAFFREY (to the crowd) No, I was with the privates. STEPHEN (amiably) Why not? The bold soldier boy. In my opinion every lady for example ..... PRIVATE CARR (his cap awry, advances to Stephen) Say, how would it be, governor, if I was to bash in your jaw? 4410 STEPHEN (looks up to the sky) How? Very unpleasant. Noble art of selfpretence. Personally, I detest action. (he waves his hand) Hand hurts me slightly. Enfin ce sont vos oignons. (to Cissy Caffrey) Some trouble is on here. What is it precisely? DOLLY GRAY (from her balcony waves her handkerchief, giving the sign of the heroine of Jericho) Rahab. Cook's son, goodbye. Safe home to Dolly. Dream of the girl you left behind and she will dream of you. (The soldiers turn their swimming eyes.) .

. 4420 BLOOM (elbowing through the crowd, plucks Stephen's sleeve vigorously) Come now, professor, that carman is waiting. STEPHEN (turns) Eh? (he disengages himself) Why should I not speak to him or to any human being who walks upright upon this oblate orange? (he points his finger) I'm not afraid of what I can talk to if I see his eye. Retaining the perpendicular. (he staggers a pace back) BLOOM (propping him) Retain your own. 4430 STEPHEN (laughs emptily) My centre of gravity is displaced. I have forgotten the trick. Let us sit down somewhere and discuss. Struggle for life is the law of existence but but human philirenists, notably the tsar and the king of England, have invented arbitration. (he taps his brow) But in here it is I must kill the priest and the king. .

. BIDDY THE CLAP Did you hear what the professor said? He's a professor out of the college. CUNTY KATE I did. I heard that. 4440 BIDDY THE CLAP He expresses himself with such marked refinement of phraseology. CUNTY KATE Indeed, yes. And at the same time with such apposite trenchancy. PRIVATE CARR (pulls himself free and comes forward) What's that you're saying about my king? (Edward the Seventh appears in an archway. He wars a white jersey on which an image of the Sacred Heart is stitched with the insignia of Garter and Thistle, Golden Fleece, Elephant of 4450 Denmark, Skinner's and Probyn's horse, Lincoln 's Inn bencher and ancient and honourable artillery company of Massachusetts. He sucks a red jujube. He is robed as a grand elect perfect and sublime mason with trowel and apron, marked made in Germany. In his left hand he holds a plasterer's bucket on which is printed Defense d'uriner. A roar of welcome greets him.) EDWARD THE SEVENTH (slowly, solemnly but indistinctly) Peace, perfect peace. For identification, bucket in my hand. Cheerio, boys. (he turns to his subjects) We have come here to witness a clean straight fight and we heartily wish both men the best 4460 of good luck. Mahak makar a bak. (he shakes hands with Private Carr, Private Compton, Stephen, Bloom and Lynch) (General applause. Edward the Seventh lifts his bucket graciously in acknowledgment.) PRIVATE CARR (to Stephen) Say it again. STEPHEN (nervous, friendly, pulls himself up) I understand your point of view though I have no king myself for the moment. This is the age of patent medicines. A discussion is difficult down here. But this is the point. You die 4470 for your country. Suppose. (he places his arm on Private Carr's sleeve) 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 Joking Jesus, a white jujube in his phosphorescent face) My methods are new and are causing surprise. To make the blind see I throw dust in their eyes. STEPHEN Kings and unicorns! (he fills back a pace) Come somewhere and we'll... 4480 What was that girl saying ...? PRIVATE COMPTON Eh, Harry, give him a kick in the knackers. Stick one into Jerry. BLOOM (to the privates, softly) He doesn't know what he's saying. Taken a little more than is good for him. Absinthe. Greeneyed monster. I know him. He's a gentleman, a poet. It's all right. STEPHEN (nods, smiling and laughing) Gentleman, patriot, scholar and judge of impostors. 4490 PRIVATE CARR I don't give a bugger who he is. PRIVATE COMPTON We don't give a bugger who he is. STEPHEN I seem to annoy them. Green rag to a bull. (Kevin Egan of Paris in black Spanish tasselled shirt and peep-o'-day boy's hat signs to Stephen.) KEVIN EGAN H'lo! Bonjour! The vieille ogresse with the dents jaunes. (Patrice Egan peeps from behind, his rabbitface nibbling a quince 4500 leaf.) PATRICE Socialiste! DON EMILE PATRIZ1O FRANZ RUPERT POPE HENNESSY (in medieval hauberk, two wild geese volant on his helm, with noble indignation points a mailed hand against the privates) Werf those eykes to footboden, big grand porcos of johnyellows todos covered of gravy! BLOOM (to Stephen) Come home. You'll get into trouble. STEPHEN 4510 (swaying) I don't avoid it. He provokes my intelligence. BIDDY THE CLAP One immediately observes that he is of patrician lineage. THE VIRAGO Green above the red, says he. Wolfe Tone. THE BAWD The red's as good as the green. And better. Up the soldiers! Up King Edward! A ROUGH (laughs) Ay! Hands up to De Wet. 4520 THE CITIZEN (with a huge emerald muffler and shillelagh, calls) May the God above Send down a dove With teeth as sharp as razors To slit the throats Of the English dogs That hanged our Irish leaders. THE CROPPY BOY (the ropenoose round his neck, gripes in his issuing bowels with both 4530 hands) I bear no hate to a living thing, But I love my country beyond the king. RUMBOLD, DEMON BARBER (accompanied by two blackmasked assistants, advances with gladstone bag which he opens) Ladies and gents, cleaver purchased by Mrs Pearcy to slay Mogg. Knife with which Voisin dismembered the wife of a compatriot and hid remains in a sheet in the cellar, the unfortunate female's throat being cut from ear to ear. Phial containing arsenic retrieved from body of Miss Barron which sent Seddon to the gallows. 4540 (He jerks the rope. The assistants leap at the victim's legs and drag him downward, grunting The croppy boy's tongue protrudes violently.) THE CROPPY BOY Horhot ho hray hor hother's hest. (He gives up the ghost. A violent erection of the hanged sends gouts of sperm spouting through his deathclothes on to the cobblestones. Mrs Bellingham, Mrs Yelverton Barry and the Honourable Mrs Mervyn Talboys rush forward with their handkerchiefs to sop it up.) 4550 RUMBOLD I'm near it myself. (he undoes the noose) Rope which hanged the awful rebel. Ten shillings a time. As applied to Her Royal Highness. (he plunges his head into the gaping belly of the hanged and draws out his head again clotted with coiled and smoking entrails) My painful duty has now been done. God save the king! EDWARD THE SEVENTH (dances slowly, solemnly, rattling his bucket, and sings with soft contentment) On coronation day, on coronation day, 4560 O, won't we have a merry time, Drinking whisky, beer and wine! PRIVATE CARR Here. What are you saying about my king? STEPHEN (throws up his hands) O, this is too monotonous! Nothing. He wants my money and my life, though want must be his master, for some brutish empire of his. Money I haven't. (he searches his pockets vaguely) Gave it to someone. PRIVATE CARR 4570 Who wants your bleeding money? STEPHEN (tries to move off) Will someone tell me where I am least likely to meet these necessary evils? Ca se voit aussi a Paris. Not that I ... But, by saint Patrick ....! (The women's heads coalesce. Old Gummy Granny in sugarloaf hat appears seated on a toadstool, the deathflower of the potato blight on her breast.) STEPHEN 4580 Aha! I know you, gammer! Hamlet, revenge! The old sow that eats her farrow! OLD GUMMY GRANNY (rocking to and fro) Ireland's sweetheart, the king of Spain's daughter, alanna. Strangers in my house, bad manners to them! (she keens with banshee woe) Ochone! Ochone! Silk of the kine! (she wails) You met with poor old Ireland and how does she stand? STEPHEN How do I stand you? The hat trick! Where's the third person of the Blessed Trinity? Soggarth Aroon? The reverend Carrion Crow. 4590 CISSY CAFFREY (shrill) Stop them from fighting! A ROUGH Our men retreated. PRIVATE CARR (tugging at his belt) I'll wring the neck of any fucker says a word against my fucking king. BLOOM (terrified) He said nothing. Not a word. A pure misunderstanding. PRIVATE COMPTON 4600 Go it, Harry. Do him one in the eye. He's a proBoer. STEPHEN Did I? When? BLOOM (to the redcoats) We fought for you in South Africa, Irish missile troops. Isn't that history? Royal Dublin Fusiliers. Honoured by our monarch. THE NAVVY (staggering past) O, yes! O God, yes! O, make the kwawr a krowawr! O! Bo! (Casqued halberdiers in armour thrust forward a pentice of gutted 4610 spearpoints. Major Tweedy, moustached like Turko the terrible, in bearskin cap with hackleplume and accoutrements, with epaulettes, gilt chevrons and sabretaches, his breast bright with medals, toes the line. He gives the pilgrim warrior's sign of the knights templars.) MAJOR TWEEDY (growls gruffly) Rorke's Drift! Up, guards, and at them! Mahar shalal hashbaz. THE CITIZEN Erin go bragh! 4620 (Major Tweedy and the Citizen exhibit to each other medals, decorations, trophies of war, wounds. Both salute with fierce hostility.) PRIVATE CARR I'll do him in. PRIVATE COMPTON (moves the crowd back) Fair play, here. Make a bleeding butcher's shop of the bugger. (Massed bands blare Garryowen and God save the king.) CISSY CAFFREY 4630 They're going to fight. For me! CUNTY KATE The brave and the fair. BIDDY THE CLAP Methinks yon sable knight will joust it with the best. CUNTY KATE (blushing deeply) Nay, madam. The gules doublet and merry saint George for me! STEPHEN The harlot's cry from street to street 4640 Shall weave Old Ireland's windingsheet.   PRIVATE CARR (loosening his belt, shouts) I'll wring the neck of any fucking bastard says a word against my bleeding fucking king. BLOOM (shakes Cissy Caffrey's shoulders) Speak, you! Are you struck dumb? You are the link between nations and generations. Speak, woman, sacred lifegiver! CISSY CAFFREY (alarmed, seizes Private Carr's sleeve) Amn't I with you? Amn't I your 4650 girl? Cissy's your girl. (she cries) Police! STEPHEN (ecstatically, to Cissy Caffrey) White thy fambles, red thy gan And thy quarrons dainty is. VOICES Police! DISTANT VOICES Dublin's burning! Dublin's burning! On fire, on fire! (Brimstone fires spring up. Dense clouds roll past. Heavy Gatling 4660 guns boom. Pandemonium. Troops deploy. Gallop of hoofs. Artillery. Hoarse commands. Bells clang Backers shout. Drunkards bawl. Whores screech. Foghorns hoot. Cries of valour. Shrieks of dying. Pikes clash on cuirasses. Thieves rob the slain. Birds of prey, winging from the sea, rising from marshlands, swooping from eyries, hover screaming, gannets, cormorants, vultures, goshawks, climbing woodcocks, peregrines, merlins, blackgrouse, sea eagles, gulls, albatrosses, barnacle geese. The midnight sun is darkened. The earth trembles. The dead of Dublin from Prospect and Mount Jerome in white sheepskin overcoats and black goatfell cloaks arise 4670 and appear to many. A chasm opens with a noiseless yawn. Tom Rochford, winner, in athlete's singlet and breeches, arrives at the head of the national hurdle handicap and leaps into the void. He is followed by a race of runners and leapers. In wild attitudes they spring from the brink. Their bodies plunge. Factory lasses with fancy clothes toss redhot Yorkshire baraabombs. Society ladies lift their skirts above their heads to protect themselves. Laughing witches in red cutty sarks ride through the air on broomsticks. Quakerlyster plasters blisters. It rains dragons' teeth. Armed heroes spring up from furrows. They exchange in amity the pass of knights 4680 of the red cross and fight duels with cavalry sabres: Wolfe Tone against Henry Grattan, Smith O'Brien against Daniel O'Connell, Michael Davitt against Isaac Butt, Justin M'Carthy against Parnell, Arthur Griffith against John Redmond, John O'Leary against Lear O'Johnny, Lord Edward Fitzgerald against Lord Gerald Fitzedward, The O'Donoghue of The Glens against The Glens of The O'Donoghue. On an eminence, the centre of the earth, rises the feldaltar of Saint Barbara. Black candles rise from its gospel and epistle horns. From the high barbacans of the tower two shafts of light fall on the smokepalled altarstone. On the altarstone Mrs Mina 4690 Purefoy, goddess of unreason, lies, naked, fettered, a chalice resting on her swollen belly. Father Malachi O'Flynn in a lace petticoat and reversed chasuble, his two left feet back to the front, celebrates camp mass. The Reverend Mr Hugh C Haines Love M. A. in a plain cassock and mortarboard, his head and collar back to the front, holds over the celebrant's head an open umbrella.) FATHER MALACHI O'FLYNN Introibo ad altare diaboli. THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE To the devil which hath made glad my young days. 4700 FATHER MALACHI O'FLYNN (takes from the chalice and elevates a blooddripping host) Corpus meum. THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE (raises high behind the celebrant's petticoat, revealing his grey bare hairy buttocks between which a carrot is stuck) My body. THE VOICE OF ALL THE DAMNED Htengier Tnetopinmo Dog Drol eht rof, Aiulella! (From on high the voice of Adonai calls.) ADONAI 4710 Dooooooooooog! THE VOICE OF ALL THE BLESSED Alleluia, for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth! (From on high the voice of Adonai calls.) ADONAI Goooooooooood! (In strident discord peasants and townsmen of Orange and Green factions sing Kick the Pope and Daily, daily sing to Mary.) PRIVATE CARR (with ferocious articulation) I'll do him in, so help me fucking Christ! I'll 4720 wring the bastard fucker's bleeding blasted fucking windpipe! .

. (The retriever, nosing on the fringe of the crowd, barks noisily.) BLOOM (runs to Lynch) Can't you get him away? LYNCH He likes dialectic, the universal language. Kitty! (to Bloom) Get him away, you. He won't listen to me. (He drags Kitty away.) STEPHEN (points) Exit Judas. Et laqueo se suspendit. 4730 BLOOM (runs to Stephen) Come along with me now before worse happens. Here's your stick. STEPHEN Stick, no. Reason. This feast of pure reason. .

. OLD GUMMY GRANNY (thrusts a dagger towards Stephen's hand) Remove him, acushla. At 8.35 a.m. you will be in heaven and Ireland will be free. (she prays) O good God, take him! CISSY CAFFREY 4740 (pulling Private Carr) Come on, you're boosed. He insulted me but I forgive him. (shouting in his ear) I forgive him for insulting me. .

. BLOOM (over Stephen's shoulder) Yes, go. You see he's incapable. .

. PRIVATE CARR (breaks loose) I'll insult him. (He rushes towards Stephen, fist outstretched, and strikes him in the face. Stephen totters, collapses, falls, stunned. He lies prone, his face to the sky, his hat rolling to the wall Bloom follows and picks it up.) 4750 MAJOR TWEEDY (loudly) Carbine in bucket! Cease fire! Salute! THE RETRIEVER (barking furiously) Ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute. THE CROWD Let him up! Don't strike him when he's down! Air! Who? The soldier hit him. He's a professor. Is he hurted? Don't manhandle him! He's fainted! A HAG What call had the redcoat to strike the gentleman and he under the influence. Let them go and fight the Boers! 4760 THE BAWD Listen to who's talking! Hasn't the soldier a right to go with his girl? He gave him the coward's blow. (They grab at each other's hair, claw at each other and spit) THE RETRIEVER (barking) Wow wow wow. .

. BLOOM (shoves them back, loudly) Get back, stand back! .

. PRIVATE COMPTON (tugging his comrade) Here. Bugger off, Harry. Here's the cops! .

. 4770 (Two raincaped watch, tall, stand in the group.) FIRST WATCH What's wrong here? .

. PRIVATE COMPTON We were with this lady. And he insulted us. And assaulted my chum. (the retriever barks) Who owns the bleeding tyke? CISSY CAFFREY (with expectation) Is he bleeding! .

. A MAN (rising from his knees) No. Gone off. He'll come to all right. 4780 BLOOM (glances sharply at the man) Leave him to me. I can easily ..... SECOND WATCH Who are you? Do you know him? .

. PRIVATE CARR (lurches towards the watch) He insulted my lady friend. .

. BLOOM (angrily) You hit him without provocation. I'm a witness. Constable, take his regimental number. SECOND WATCH 4790 I don't want your instructions in the discharge of my duty. .

. PRIVATE COMPTON (pulling his comrade) Here, bugger off Harry. Or Bennett'll shove you in the lockup. PRIVATE CARR (staggering as he is pulled away) God fuck old Bennett. He's a whitearsed bugger. I don't give a shit for him. .

. FIRST WATCH (takes out his notebook) What's his name? BLOOM 4800 (peering over the crowd) I just see a car there. If you give me a hand a second, sergeant.... FIRST WATCH Name and address. (Corny Kelleher, weepers round his hat, a death wreath in his hand, appears among the bystanders.) BLOOM (quickly) O, the very man! (he whispers) Simon Dedalus' son. A bit sprung. Get those policemen to move those loafers back. SECOND WATCH 4810 Night, Mr Kelleher. CORNY KELLEHER (to the watch, with drawling eye) That's all right. I know him. Won a bit on the races. Gold cup. Throwaway. (he laughs) Twenty to one. Do you follow me? FIRST WATCH (turns to the crowd) Here, what are you all gaping at? Move on out of that. (The crowd disperses slowly, muttering, down the lane.) CORNY KELLEHER 4820 Leave it to me, sergeant. That'll be all right. (he laughs, shaking his head) We were often as bad ourselves, ay or worse. What? Eh, what? FIRST WATCH (laughs) I suppose so. CORNY KELLEHER (nudges the second watch) Come and wipe your name off the slate. (he lilts, wagging his head) With my tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom. What, eh, do you follow me? SECOND WATCH (genially) Ah, sure we were too. 4830 CORNY KELLEHER (winking) Boys will be boys. I've a car round there. SECOND WATCH All right, Mr Kelleher. Good night. CORNY KELLEHER I'll see to that. BLOOM (shakes hands with both of the watch in turn) Thank you very much, gentlemen. Thank you. (he mumbles confidentially) We don't want any scandal, you understand. Father is a wellknown highly respected citizen. 4840 Just a little wild oats, you understand. FIRST WATCH O. I understand, sir. SECOND WATCH That's all right, sir. FIRST WATCH It was only in case of corporal injuries I'd have to report it at the station. BLOOM (nods rapidly) Naturally. Quite right. Only your bounden duty. SECOND WATCH 4850 It's our duty. CORNY KELLEHER Good night, men. THE WATCH (saluting together) Night, gentlemen. (They move off with slow heavy tread) BLOOM (blows) Providential you came on the scene. You have a car...? CORNY KELLEHER (laughs, pointing his thumb over his right shoulder to the car brought up 4860 against the scaffolding) Two commercials that were standing fizz in Jammet's. Like princes, faith. One of them lost two quid on the race. Drowning his grief. And were on for a go with the jolly girls. So I landed them up on Behan's car and down to nighttown. BLOOM I was just going home by Gardiner street when I happened to ... CORNY KELLEHER (laughs) Sure they wanted me to join in with the mots. No, by God, says I. Not for old stagers like myself and yourself. (he laughs again and leers with lacklustre eye) Thanks be to God we have it in the house, what, eh, do 4870 you follow me? Hah, hah, hah! BLOOM (tries to laugh) He, he, he! Yes. Matter of fact I was just visiting an old friend of mine there, Virag, you don't know him (poor fellow, he's laid up for the past week) and we had a liquor together and I was just making my way home ...... (The horse neighs.) .

. THE HORSE Hohohohohohoh! Hohohohome! .

. CORNY KELLEHER 4880 Sure it was Behan our jarvey there that told me after we left the two 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? BLOOM No, in Sandycove, I believe, from what he let drop. (Stephen, prone, breathes to the stars. Corny Kelleher, asquint, drawls at the horse. Bloom, in gloom, looms town.) CORNY KELLEHER (scratches his nape) Sandycove! (he bends down and calls to Stephen) 4890 Eh! (he calls again) Eh! He's covered with shavings anyhow. Take care they didn't lift anything off him. BLOOM No, no, no. I have his money and his hat here and stick. CORNY KELLEHER Ah, well, he'll get over it. No bones broken. Well, I'll shove along. (he laughs) I've a rendezvous in the morning. Burying the dead. Safe home! .

. THE HORSE (neighs) Hohohohohome. .

. BLOOM 4900 Good night. I'll just wait and take him along in a few ... (Corny Kelleher returns to the outside car and mounts it. The horseharness jingles.) CORNY KELLEHER (from the car, standing) Night. BLOOM Night. (The jarvey chucks the reins and raises his whip encouragingly. The car and horse back slowly, awkwardly, and turn. Corny Kelleher on the sideseat sways his head to and fro in sign of mirth at 4910 Bloom's plight. The jarvey joins in the mute pantomimic merriment nodding from the farther seat. Bloom shakes his head in mute mirthful reply. With thumb and palm Corny Kelleher reassures that the two bobbies will allow the sleep to continue for what else is to be done. With a slow nod Bloom conveys his gratitude as that is exactly what Stephen needs. The car jingles tooraloom round the corner of the tooraloom lane. Corny Kelleher again reassuralooms with his hand. Bloom with his hand assuralooms Corny Kelleher that he is reassuraloomtay. The tinkling hoofs and jingling harness grow fainter with their tooralooloo looloo lay. Bloom, holding in 4920 his hand Stephen's hat, festooned with shavings, and ashplant, stands irresolute. Then he bends to him and shakes him by the shoulder.) BLOOM Eh! Ho! (There is no answer. He bends again.) Mr Dedalus! (there is no answer) The name if you call. Somnambulist. (he bends again and hesitating, brings his mouth near the face of the prostrate form) Stephen! (There is no answer. He calls again.) Stephen! STEPHEN (frowns) Who? Black panther. Vampire. (he sighs and stretches himself, 4930 then murmurs thickly with prolonged vowels) Who... drive... Fergus now And pierce ... wood's woven shade ..? (He turns on his left side, sighing, doubling himself together.) BLOOM 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? STEPHEN 4940 (murmurs) .... shadows ... the woods ... white breast... dim sea. (He stretches out his arms, sighs again and curls his body. Bloom, holding the hat and ashplant, stands erect. A dog barks in the distance. Bloom tightens and loosens his grip on the ashplant. He looks down on Stephen's face and form.) BLOOM (communes with the night) Face reminds me of his poor mother. In the shady wood. The deep white breast. Ferguson, I think I caught. A girl. 4950 Some girl. Best thing could happen him. (he murmurs) ..swear that I will always hail, ever conceal, never reveal, any part or parts, art or arts ..(he murmurs) ..in the rough sands of the sea ..a cabletow's length from the shore.... where the tide ebbs.... and flows ..... .

. (Silent, thoughtful, alert he stands on guard, his fingers at his lips in the attitude of secret master. Against the dark wall a figure appears slowly, a fairy boy of eleven, a changeling, kidnapped, dressed in an Eton suit with glass shoes and a little bronze helmet, holding a book in his hand. He reads from right to left inaudibly, smiling, kissing the page.) 4960 BLOOM (wonderstruck, calls inaudibly) Rudy! RUDY (gazes, unseeing, into Bloom's eyes and goes on reading, kissing, smiling He has a delicate mauve face. On his suit he has diamond and ruby buttons. In his free left hand he holds a slim ivory cane with a violet bowknot. A white lambkin peeps out of his waistcoat pocket.)