ULYSSES

Fair Copy

Fair copy of 11 sections in 11 notebooks, Spring 1920, draft level 2

MS NLI.11B, V.A.13, V.A.14, NLI.11C, V.A.15, NLI.11D, V.A.16, V.A.17, V.A.18, NLI.11E, NLI.11F Draft details

{Prologue: NLI.11B: U84 14.01-70}
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Hisº acumen we |2hold esteem2| very little perceptive |2about concerning2| whatsoever |2things matters2| are |2being held as2| |2best most profitably2| by |2sapient mortals mortals with sapience2| to be |2learnt studied2| who is ignorant of that which the most |2in by2| doctrine |2erudite |aornamented blanka|2| and certainly |2for that by2| reason of that |2in them2| high mind's ornament deserving of veneration |2have constantly maintained constantly maintain2| when, by universal assent, they affirm that|2, other things being equal,2| by no pomp or splendour is the prosperity of a people more effectively asserted than by the measure |2of how far forward has progressed2| of the tribute of its solicitude for that prolific continuance which, of evils the chief if it be absent, |2when fortunately present,2| constitutes the certain sign of the benevolent benediction of nature. For who is there who anything of |2any some2| significance has apprehended but is conscious that this splendour of it may be the surface of a lutulent and |2morbid moribund2| reality |2while or2| on the contrary is there anyone so unilluminated |2but2| that he does |2not perceive perceives2| that, as no boon of nature can contend a with the bounty of increase, so it behoves every |2most2| just citizen to be |2an the2| admonisher |2& exhortator2| |2of his nation2| when and to tremble lest what |2was by her in the commencement had in the past been by her2| excellently commenced |2may might2| be not with similar excellence |2in the future2| accomplished if an inverecund habit |2has shall have2| |2gradually2| traduced the honourable customs transmitted by the ancestors to such an extent that that he |2will be2|
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|2was2| audaciousº excessively who |2has |awill woulda| have2| the courage to affirm that no more odious crime |2is there can2| to him |2be2| than |2to consign2| to oblivious neglect |2to consign2| the evangel, simultaneously command and promise, which on all mortals most solemnly with |2anticipation prophecy2| of abundance or with |2menace of dimunition diminution's menace2| that exalted duty of |2reiterated procreation reiteratedly procreating2| most solemnly and irrevocably |2and ever2| enjoined?

It is not why we shall wonder if, as the best historians relate, among the Celts |2who |aadmired nothing nothing admireda| which was not in its nature admirable,2| the art of medicine |2was shall have been2| highly honoured. Not to speak of their hostels, leperyards, sweating chambers, plaguegraves their greatest doctors, such as the O'Shiels, the O'Lees, the O'Hickeys, have carefully set down the divers |2ways methods2| by which the sick, the ailing, the relapsed, and the convalesent |2were had been2| |2restored to found again2| health |2so that we may read with instruction2| whether the malady |2were had been2| the trembling hand, withering arm, boyconnell or loose flux. In Certainly in every public work which has anything in it of gravity it is to be considered that the preparation should be commensurate with the importance and therefore a plan was by them adopted (whether by preconsideration or as the fruit of experience |2has not been it is2| up to the present time |2clear difficult in being said2| |2|awhicha| the discrepant opinions of subsequent inquirers |ahave area| not |acongrueda| up to the present time |arendered to rendera| manifest2|) whereby maternity was so far
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removed from
º accident |2possibility2| that whatever care woman the patient in that |2woman's hardest allhardest of woman2| hour chiefly required |2was valiantly and for an inconsiderable emolument provided and not solely for the copiously |amoneyed opulenta| of the community but also for |athose |bher oneb|a| who, not being sufficiently moneyed, scarcely and not even scarcely could exist, valiantly and for an inconsiderable emolument |awasa| provided2|.

|2To her |anothinga| already then and thenceforward was |aanywaya| able to be |atherea| molestful for this chiefly |afelta| all citizens that except with fruitful mothers prosperity at all not to can be and as they had received, eternity of the gods, |ageneration to mortals mortals generationa| to befit them her beholding parturient, when the case |aso has was so havinga| itself, parturient in car carrying thither, |ahuge immensea| desire among |aalla| one another |aimpelled was impellinga| on of her to be received into that domicile. Whom of them suddenly O thing |aof a wise |bstate nationb|a| not merely in being seen |aworth to be praiseda| but also even in being related deserv |aworthy to be praiseda| that they her |ain bya| anticipation went seeing mother, that she by them suddenly to |abe about toa| be cherished had |abeena| begun she felt!

2| Before born |2the2| babe had bliss. Within |2the2| womb |2he won won he2| worship. |2Whatever |ain that one casea| they done was commodiously done.2| A couch and food |2were are2| set for her who |2shortly bear him |ais about to bear him is bringing fortha|2| and clean swaddles and the service of midwives and |2of2| what drugs |2were needed there is need2| or surgical implements |2|apertained |bwere pertaining are pertainingb|a| to |atheir hera| case2| |2and |athea| aspect of |athe most all verya| diverting spectacles |ain its various latitudesa| offered by the terrestrial orb together with the images, sacre divine & human, |athe cogitation of which |bby the sejunct femaleb| most favourable to tumescencea| |amost conducive to felicitous parturition parturition most conducivea|,2| in the high |2bright sunbright2| wellbuilt fair home of mothers when, being |2ostensibly2| far gone, |2and |aby hera| about to reproduce,2| she |2draws thither it was come thither2| to lie in, her term come.

{Section I: MS V.A.13: U84 14.71-122}

I
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Some man that wayfaring was stood by housedoor at night's oncoming. Of Israel's folk was that man that on earth wandering far had fared. |2Stark2| Manly ruth his errand was that him |2love2| |2ledº2| to that house.

Of that house A. Horne is lord. Seventy beds keeps he there (where) teeming mothers are wont that they lie for to bring forth bairns hale |2as2| so God's angel to Mary quoth. Watchers twey there walk, white sisters |2of sleepless ward in ward sleepless2|. Smarts they still, |2the young sickness2| soothing: in twelve moons thrice an hundred. Truest bedthanes they twain are, for Horne holding wariest ward.

In ward wary the watcher hearing come that man mildhearted |2|aefta| rising |awith swire wimpleda| and2| to him her |2door gate2| wide undid. Lo, levin leaping |2lightened lightens2| in eyeblink Ireland's |2western westward2| welkin. Full she dread that God the Wreaker all mankind would fordo with water for |2their his2| evil sins. Christ's rood made she on breastbone and him |2hest drew2| that he would rathe infare under her thatch. That man her will wotting worthful went in Horne's house.

Loth to irk in Horne's |2house hallº2| hat holding the seeker stood. On her |2land stow2| he ere was living with liefest wife and |2small lovesome2| daughter that then over
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land and seafloor nine years had long outwandered. Once her in |2throng townhithe2| meeting he to her bow had not doffed. Her to forgive now he craved with good ground by her allowed, that that of him swiftseen face, hers, so young then had |2seemed looked2|. Light swift her eyes kindled, bloom of blushes his word winning.

As her eyes then ongot his weeds swart for that sorrow she feared. Glad after she was that ere adread was. Her he asked if |2Doctor O'Hare O'Hare Doctor2| tidings sent and she |2with sorrowful look grameful2| him answered that |2Doctor O'Hare O'Hare Doctor2| in heaven was. Sorry was the man |2eke that a word2| to hear |2that him so heavied2|. All she there told him, ruing death for so young man |2yet algate2| unwilling God's rightwiseness to withsay. She said that he had a fair death through God's goodness with masspriest to |2be2| shriven |2him2|, the holy housel to eat and sick men's oil |2to his limbs2|. The man then right earnest asked the nun of which death the m dead man was died and the nun answered him and said that he was died through bellycrab in Mona island three-year agone come Yule and she prayed |2to2| God |2Allruthful2| to have his dear soul in |2his2| undeathliness. He heard her sad words, in held hat, sore staring. So stood they there both awhile |2in wanhope |asorrowinga|2| one with other.
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Therefore, all men, look to that last end that is |2your thy2| death and the dust that gripeth on every man that is born of woman for as he came naked forth of his mother's womb so naked shall he wend him at the last for to go as he came.

The man that was come into the house then spoke to the |2nursing2| woman and he asked her how it fared with the woman that lay there in childbed. The good |2nursing2| woman answered him and said that that woman was in throes now full three days and that it would be a hard birth |2unneth2| to bear but that now in a little it would be. She said thereto that she had seen many births of women but never was none so hard as was that woman's birth. Then she set it forth all to him |2as for because2| she knew the man that |2of oldtime time was2| had lived nigh that house. The man hearkened to her words for he felt with wonder women's woe in the travail that they have |2of motherhood2| and he wondered to look on her face that was |2a2| young |2face2| for any man to see but yet was she left after long years a handmaid. Nine twelve bloodflows chiding her childless.

{Section II: MS V.A.14: U84 14.123-276}

II
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(2)

Andº whiles they |2spoke spake2| the door of the chamber upon their left was opened and there nighed them near a mickle noise as |2him thoughtº2| of many that had assembled them at meat and made merry to their much desport. And there came against the place as they stood a young scholar of medicine, hardy and noble, that men clepen Dixon junior for him thought that |2young Malachiº2| had come. And |2he knew sir Leopold it happened sir Leopold was couth2| sithen they had had ado each with other in the house of our mother of misericord where this scholar lay |2because that sir Leopold was come there |asore wounded in the |bbosom side |cfrom a spear wherewith he was smitten himc|b|a| after a fight with a |afearful horriblea| dragon |afor which he did do make a salve as much as he might sufficea|2|. And he said him that he should in with them for to maken make merry and sir Leopold in hope to scape said him how he should go otherwhere for he was a man of cautels and a subtile. And the good nun was of his avis and repreved this scholar though she trowed well he not said sooth but thing that was false for his subtility. But this scholar would not hear say nay nor do her mandement ne have him neither in aught contrarious to his |2will listº2| and sir Leopold went with him into this chamber. And he was fain to rest him for a space being sore of limb after many marches environing and sometime venery.
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|2⇒ The board was of the birchwood of Finlandy and there held it up four men of that part that were dwarves but they durst not move more for enchantment. There were frightful knives and cutlasses that |ashined brighta| are white flames that are made in a great cavern by |aswinkinga| demons and they are caught and fixed in the horns of buffalos and stags that there abound marvellously. And |avessels |bbubbles vesselsb|a| that are wrought by magic out of seasand and the air by a warlock there by his breath that he blases into them. They be like bubbles but blank
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There were silver |acaskets vatsa| that were opened moved by craft to open in which lay strange fishes that be withouten heads. though others |amisbelieving mena| nie that this be possible thing |awithout they see ita|. Yet natheless they are so. And they lie by preference in a |aoilya| sea |ain Portugala| |abecause by causea| of the fatness that there is which is like the liquor of the olivepress. And also it was a marvel to see how by magic they make a most fecund compost out of the wheatkidneys |aof Caldeea| which by aid of |aa certaina| angry spirits that they put in swells up wondrously like a vast mountain. |aand they train the serpents there to entwine themselves up long |bpoles sticksb| |xflowersx| in the |bgrounds groundb| and of their hide that they notch off they brew out a brewage like to mead.a|2|
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Inº this chamber sat at board a fellowship of scholars the most lustiest |2who which2| hailed sir Leopold |2full delectably2| crying, Welcome, pardee. With |2right goodly full fair2| cheer |2and |aplenty richa|2| was this board
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deckedº |2that no |aman wighta| could devise a fuller ne |afairer richera|2| of salted fishes withouten heads and oil of the fatness of the olive and the lifegiving bread of |2the kidneys2| fecund wheat and meadflasks |2missing2| a great plenty. And these scholars all |2the board about2| with one accord bid sit sir Leopold and this scholar let pour to him a draught of fellowship and halp thereto |2the which they all drank every eachº2| whereof sir Leopold |2having put up his vizard2| for to pleasure him took apertly somewhat in amity for he never drank drank no manner of mead but anon full privily he voided it the more part into his neighbour glass, he nothing of that will perceiving. So sat sir Leopold with those drunken scholars. Loth to move from Horne's house. |2Thanked be Almighty God.2|

This meanwhile this good nun stood by the door and begged them at the reverence of Jesu our alther liege |2lord Lord2| to leave their wassailing for there was |2one above above one2| |2quick with child2|, a gentle dame, whose time hied fast. |2And sir Leopold heard in the |aupper chamber upfloora| cry on high and he marvelled what cry that it was |afor he nist not whether of — — — whether of child or womana|2| I marvel, said sir Leopold, it be not come or now|2.2| |2meseems Meseems2| it dureth overlong. And he was ware and saw a franklin that hight Lenehan on that side the board that was older than any of the tother and for that they were knights venturous in the one emprise and eke by cause that he
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wasº elder he spoke to him fully gently. But, said he, or it be long too she will bring forth by God his bounty and have joy for she hath waited marvellous long. And the franklin |2that had drunkenº2| said, Expecting each moment to be her next. Also he took the cup that stood tofore him for him needed |2neverº2| none asking nor desiring of him to drink and Now drink, said he |2full delectably2|, and he quaffed as far as he might to their both's health for he was a passing good man of his lustiness. And sir Leopold that was the |2meekest knight goodliest guest2| that ever sat in scholars' hall and that was the meekest man |2and the kindest2| that ever laid |2husbandly2| hand under hen and that was the |2very2| gentlest knight that ever did minion service to lady gentle pledged him courtly in the cup. Woman's woe with wonder weening.

Now let us speak of that fellowship that was there to the intent to be drunken an they might. There was a sort of scholars |2along either side the board2|, that is to wit, Dixon yclept junior with other his fellows Lynch and Madden, scholars of medicine and the franklin that hight Lenehan and one from Alba Longa, one Crotthers, and young Stephen, that had mien of a frere, that was at head of the board,
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and Costello that men clepen |2Punch Bighead2| Costello all long of a mastery of him erewhile gested (and of all them, reserved young Stephen, he was the most drunken that demanded still of more mead) and beside the meek sir Leopold. But on young Malachi they waited for that he promised to have come and such as intended to no goodness said how he had broke his avow. And sir Leopold sat with them for he bore fast friendship to sir Simon, and to this his son young Stephen, and for that his languor becalmed him there after longest wanderings insomuch as they feasted him for that time in the honourablest manner. Ruth rede him, love led on with will to wander loth to leave. |2|xLoth to move from Horne's housex|2|

For they were right witty scholars. And he heard their quarrels each gen other as touching birth and righteousness, young Madden maintaining that put such case it were hard the wife to die (for so it had fallen out |2a matter of some years agoneº2| with a woman of Eblana in Horne's house that now was trespassed out of this world) and the self night next before her death all they had taken counsel as many as were there. And they said farther she should live because in the beginning, they said, the woman should bring forth in pain and travail and wherefore they that were of this imagination affirmed
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how young Madden had said truth for he had conscience to let her die. And |2not few &º2| of these was young Lynch, were in doubt that the world was now right evil governed as it was never other, howbeit the mean people believed it otherwise, but the law nor its his judges did provide no remedy. This was scant said but all cried with one acclaim the wife should live sith she was God's creature as well as other and the babe to die. And they waxed hot upon that head, what with argument and what for their drinking, but the franklin Lenehan was prompt to pour them ale so that at the least way mirth might not lack. Then young Madden showed all the whole affair and when they had heard her case how that she was dead and how her goodman husband |2for holy religion2| would not let her death |2for holy religion2| whereby they were one and all wondrous grieved. To whom young Stephen had these words following: |2Murmur is eke oft among low folk.º2| Sirs, pity is meet always, but if meet here for this unborn child how then for those unborn that we daily do to death. For, sirs, he said, our |2mickle of2| lust is brief, |2|xWe are means to those small creatures.x|2| but nature, giving that, had other ends. Then said Dixon junior to him that hight Punch Costello wist he what ends. But he had overmuch drunken and the best word he could have of him was that he would ever dishonest a woman whoso she were; were she wife or maid or leman, if so be it fortuned him to be delivered of his |2spleen of2| lustihood. Whereat young Stephen presently poured him
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meadº in his cup, saying it was well said if not well done. And Crotthers of Alba Longa sang praise of that beast the unicorn |2of Malachi2|, after sir Binnetto, how once in the millenium he cometh by his horn, he all that while, pricked forward with their jibes wherewith they did malice him, witnessing all and several, by his saint Bastard his engines, that he was able by grace of his privities to do any manner of thing that lay in man to do. Thereat laughed they all right jocundly only young Stephen and sir Leopold which never durst laugh too open by reason of a strange humour which he would not bewray and also for that he rued for her that bare whoso she might be |2or wheresoever2|. Then spake young Stephen orgulous of mother church that would cast him out, of law of canons, of bigness wrought by wind of seeds of brightness or by |2potency of2| demons as divers fable |2or in |athe hera| bath according to the opinion of Averroes the Moor |xlook at W. (Virgil) or seawind (Livy)x|2|. |2Vampire, mouth to mouth.2| Also he showed how on the ninth day a soul rational was infused and how in all our heavenly mother foldeth aye souls for |2God's greaterº2| glory whereas that earthly mother, that was but a dam to bring forth beastly, should die by canon |2for so saith he that holdeth the fisherman's seal, even that blessed Peter on which rock was holy church for all ages builded2|. All they bachelors then asked of sir Leopold would he in like case so jeopard her person as risk life to save life. A wariness of mind he would answer as fitted all and |2laying hand to jaw2| said dissembling, as it was informed him and agreeing also with his experience of so seldom seen an accident so it was good for that mother Church
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belikeº at one blow had birth and death pence. |2That is truth, then said Dixon junior, and, or I err, a pregnant word.º2| In such sort deliverly he scaped their questions. Which hearing young Stephen was a marvellous glad man and he averred |2that he who stealeth from the poor lendeth to the Lordº2| for he was ever of a wild humour when he had much drunken, and that he was now in that taking it appeared eftsoons.

But sir Leopold was passing grave, maugre his word, by cause he still had pity of the terrorcausing shrieking of shrill women in their labour and moreover he was minded of his good lady Marion that had borne him an only manchild which on his eleventh day on live had died and no man of art could save |2and so dark is destiny. Andº2| she was wondrous stricken of heart for that evil hap and to his burial, sore weeping, did him on a fair corselet of lamb's wool, the flower of the flock, lest he might perish utterly and lie akeled (for it was that time about the midst of the winter): and now sir Leopold that had of his body no manchild for an heir looked upon him, his friend's son, and was shut up in sorrow for his forepassed happiness and as sad as he was that him failed a son of such gentle courage, for all accomtedº him of real parts, so grieved he also in no less measure for young Stephen for that he lived riotously with |2those2| wastrels and murdered his goods with whores.

{Section III: MS NLI.11C: U84 14.277-428}

III
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(3)

Aboutº that present time young Stephen filled all cups that stood empty, so as |2there were2| remained but little mo if some of the prudenter had not shadowed their approach from him that still plied it very busily, who, praying for the intention of the sovereign pontiff he gave them for a pledge the vicar of Christ which also, as he said, was by all signs and tokens vicar of Bray. Now drink we, |2said quod2| he of this |2chalice mazer2|, and quaff ye this strong mead which is not indeed parcel of my body but the bodiment of my soul. |2And leave fraction of bread to such as live by bread alone and |ahave no fear be not afearda| of — for this will more comfort than the other will dismay2| And he showed them fully proudly |2glistering2| coin of the tribute & goldsmiths' notes to the worth of two pound nineteen shillings that he had for certain sweet airs he had composed that were printed. They all admired to see |2that the foresaid2| riches |2in such dearth as was herebefore2| and his words were these as followeth. |2Know all men2| For, he said, as the ruins of time build mansions in eternity so will the thorntree, blasted by the winds of desire, become from a bramblebush to be the rose upon the rood of time. In the womb of woman word is made flesh but in the spirit of the maker all flesh that passes becomes the word that shall not pass away. Omnis caro ad te veniet. No question but her name is puissant whom we call mother most venerable |2who aventried the dear corse of our agenbuyer |aHealer & |bherd Herdb|a| and our mighty mother, that Eve |athe Second Grandama| |xthat sold us sold for a pippinx| |afrom witha| whom her 700 million soulful sons are linked by successive anastomosis of navelcords2| for her omnipotentia |2deiparae2| supplex, as Bernardus saith, that is to wit, an almightiness of petition. But as she knew him and was but the creature of her creature, vergine madre, figlia di tuo figlio or she knew him not and then stands she in the one denial or ignorance with Peter Piscator who |2carries lives in2| the house that Jack built and with Joseph the Joiner patron of the happy death of all unhappy marriages parceque qui l'avait mise dans cette fichue
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positionº c'était ce sacré pigéon, ventre de Dieu. Entweder transubstantiality oder consubstantiality but in no case subsubstantiality. And all cried as one man out upon it for a very scurvy word. A pregnancy without joy, he said, a birth without pain, a body without blemish, a belly without bigness. Let the lewd with faith and fervour worship. With will will we withsay, withstand.

Hereupon Punch Costello, |2beating dinged2| with his fist |2on2| the board, would sing a bawdy catch Staboo Stabella |2|aof abouta| a wench that was put in pod of a |asoldier jolly swashbucklera| in Almain2| which he did now |2begin attack2|:

The first three months she was not well, Staboo!

When nurse Quigley from the door |2angerly2| bid them hist, ye should shame you |2for your ignorance2| nor was it not meet as she remembered them being her mind was to have all orderly against lord Andrew came |2that day evening2| as she was jealous that no turmoil might shorten the honour of her guard. It was an ancient and a sad matron |2|aof a sedate look |band of Christian walkingb|a| in habit dun beseeming her |amegrims &a| wrinkled visage,2| nor did her hortative want of |2his it2| effect for |2straightways incontinently2| Punch Costello was of them all embraided and they reclaimed him with civil rudeness and shaked him with menace of blandishments |2whiles they chode with him2| |2others2|, a murrain seize |2him the dolt2|, what a devil he would be and|2, thou chuff,2| to shut up his drunken drool out of that like a blasted ape, the good sir Leopold, that had |2gotten2| for his cognisance the flower of quiet, margerain gentle, advising also the time's occasion |2as most discreet and most worthy to be most discreet2|. In Horne's house rest should reign.

|2To be short2| This passage was scarcely by when Master Dixon |2scholar of my lady M Mary's2| |2gently grinning2| asked young Stephen |2what was the reason why he had not |ataken cided to takea|2| when he would take friar's vows and he answered him obedience in the womb, chastity in the tomb and involuntary poverty all his days. Master Lenehan at this |2said made return2| he had heard of those nefarious deeds and how, as he heard |2hereof2| counted, he had besmirched the lily virtue of a confiding female which was corruption of minors and |2|x& intershowedx|2|, waxing merry, they toasted his fatherhood. But he said |2very entirely it was clean contrary for2| he was the eternal son and |2to countervail the same2| |2a very ever2| virgin. Thereat mirth grew
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in them
º the more and they rehearsed to him his |2curious2| rite of |2espousals wedlock2|, for the disrobing and deflowering of |2the spouse spouses2|, she to be in |2guise of2| white and saffron, in saffron and scarlet her |2groom swain2|, with burning of nards and tapers on a bridebed while clerks sung kyries & the anthem Ut novetur sexus omnis corporis mysterium till she was there unmaided and got to breed. He gave them then |2an excellent hymen song much admirable hymen minim2| by those delicate poets Master John Fletcher and Master Francis Beaumont that is in their Maid's Tragedy that was writ for a like twining of lovers: To bed, to bed was the burden to be played |2sweetly with |asweet accompanablea| concent2| upon the virginals. Well met they were, said Master Dixon, but, |2by my troth harkee2|, better were they named Beau Mount and Lecher for |2by my troth2| of such a mingling much might come. Master Stephen said indeed to his best remembrance they had but the one doxy between them and she of the stews to make shift with in delights noble for life ran very high in those days and the custom of the country approved with it. And greater love than this, said he, no man hath that a man lay down his wife for his friend. Go thou and do likewise for thus, or words to that effect, spake Zarathustra, sometime regius professor of French letters to the university of Oxtail nor breathed there ever that sage to whom mankind was more beholden. Orate, pro me. Seek unto him, he said, and I will bring you unto the land of behest, he said, even from Horeb and from Pisgah and from Sinai mount and from the Horns of Hatten unto a land flowing with milk and money. |2|xThat tenebrosity of the interior darkness, he said, hath not been illuminated by the wit of the septuagint. The Orient from on high who brake hell's gates dispersed a darkness which wh was literally foraneous. But by assuefaction it |ahad become becomesa| tolerable of to that state for Hamlet his father's ghost |ashowed showetha| his son no mark of combustion. The adiaphane at |athea| noonday of life is |athat Eyptian an Egypt'sa| plague which in the nights of prenativity and postmortemity is |athe their most propera| ubi and quomodo |aof those diuturnousa|.x|2| And as, said he, the ends and finalities of all things |2accord accords2| in some mean and measure with their inceptions and originals, that same |2manifold multiplicit2|
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concordanceº which has led forth growth from birth accomplishing by a retrogressive metamorphosis that minishing |2or o ablation2| towards the final most consonant with the nature of that which suffers nature so is it with us from cradle to the grave. Over our birth the aged sisters bend: We, wail, batten, live, clasp, sunder, dwindle, die: over us dead they bend |2whose breath is ashes2|. First saved from water of old Nile, among the bulrushes, a wattled bed: at last; on Horeb on Bachar a cave that the jackals inhabit. And as no man knows the ubicity of his tumulus nor to what processes we shall thereby be ushered nor whether to Tophet or to Edenville in the like way is all hidden when we would backward see from what region of remoteness the whatness of our whoness hath fetched his whenceness.

Thereto Punch Costello roared |2lustily out mainly2|: Etienne, chanson! |2Etienne He2| however loudly bid them lo, wisdom had built herself a house, this vast majestic vault fretted with golden fire, all in applepie order: a penny for him as finds the pea.

Behold the mansion reared by dedal Jack
See the malt stored in many a refluent sack
In the proud cirque of |2Ivan's Jackjohn's2| bivouac.

Noise |2in the street2| checked further words. Loud on left Thor thundered: in anger awful, the hammerhurler. And Master Lynch bade him have a care to witwanton as the god |2self2| was angered for his hellprate |2and paganry2|: and he that had erst challenged to be so doughty waxed pale as they might all mark and shrank together |2and his pitch that was erewhile so haught lift was |aquitea| plucked |asuddena| down2| as he tasted that storm and his heart shook within the cage of his breast. Then some mocked and Punch Costello fell to |2drinking to his yale2| which Master Lenehan vowed he would do after and he was indeed |2on any the least colour2| but a word and a blow. But the braggart boaster cried that |2an2| old Nobodaddy was in his cups |2|xit was muchwhat indifferentx|2| he would not lag behind his lead
{ms, 5}
butº this was only to dye his desperation as cowed he crouched in Horne's |2house hall2|. He drank indeed and at one draught to pluck up a heart of any grace for it thundered long rumblingly over all the heavens so that Master Madden, being godly certain whiles, knocked him on his breast and Master Bloom at the braggart's side spoke to him calming words to slumber his great fear advertising how it was |2but no other thing but2| a hubbub noise he heard, the discharge of fluid, look you, having taken place and all of the order of a natural phenomenon.

{Section IV: MS V.A.15: U84 14.429-473}

IV
{ms, 1}

(4)

But was young braggart's fear vanquished by calmer's words? No, for he knew his own wretchedness which could not by words be done away. And was he then neither calm like the one nor godly like the other? He was neither as much as he would have liked to be either. But could he not have endeavoured to have found again as in his youth the natural piety that then he lived withal? Indeed no for grace was not there to give it. Heard he then in that clap the voice of the god Bringforth or, what calmer said, a hubbub of phenomenon? Heard? Why he could not but hear both of those things unless peradventure he had sealed him up understanding (which he had not done). For understanding told him that he was in the land of phenomenon where he must certainly one day die as he was too like the rest a passing show. And would he not accept to die like the rest and pass away? He would not though he must nor would he make more shows according as men do with wives which phenomenon has commanded them to do by his law. Then wotted he nought of that other land which is called Believe on Me that is the true land of behest which is all delightful and shall be for ever where there is also no death and no birth, neither wiving nor mothering at which all shall come as many as believe on it? Yes: Pious had told him of that land and Chaste had pointed him to the way but the reason was that in the way he fell in with a certain whore whose name, she said, is Bird-in-the-Hand of an eyepleasing exterior and she beguiled him wrongways from the true path by her flatteries to him that
{ms, 2}
he was a very pretty man and so she had him in her grot of shame which is named Two in the Bush or, by some learned also, Carnal Concupiscence.

This was it what all that company that sat there at commons in Manse of Mothers the most lusted after and if they met with withº this whore Bird in the Hand (which was within all foul plagues, monsters and a devil) they would strain |2hard all2| but they would make at her and know her. For regarding Believe on Me they said it was nought else but notion and they could conceive no thought of it for, first, Two in the Bush whither she ticed them was the very goodliest grot and in it were four bowers which were called Dalliance and Loth to Brood and Chamber Delights and Harlotry and, second, for that foul plague |2Allpox2| and monsters they cared not for them for Preservative had given them a stout shield of oxengut and, third, that they might take no hurt neither from Offspring that was a noxious devil by reas virtue of this same shield which was named Killchild. So were they all in their blind fancy, Mr Godly and Mr Cavil, Mr Ape Swillale, Mr False Franklin, Mr Dainty Dixon, Young Boasthard and Mr Cautious Calmer. Wherein, O wretched company, were ye all deceived for that was the voice of the god that was in a most grievous rage that he would presently |2lift his arm2| spill their souls for their abuses and their spillings done by them contrariwise to his word which forth to bring brenningly biddeth.

{Section V: MS NLI.11D: U84 14.474-528}

V
{ms, 1}

(5)

Soº Thursday sixteenth June |2Mr Pa. Dignam laid in clay of an apoplexy and2| after hard drought, please God, rained, a bargeman coming in by water |2a twenty mile or thereabout2| with some turf saying, |2no seed would seed won't2| sprout, the fields athirst, very sadcoloured and stunk mightily, the quags |2and tofts too2|. |2Hard to breathe & |a young quicksa| clean consumed, they say, |aSo No sprinkle this long while back as no man remembered to be withouta|2| No use |2the2| watering them |2the rosy buds all gone brown & spread out blobs2| and on the hills nought but dry flag |2and faggots2| that would catch at first fire |2and all the world saying2|, for aught they knew, the big wind of last February that did havoc the land so pitifully a small thing beside this barrenness. |2missing2| But by and by, as said, this evening (past ten of the clock) after sundown, the wind sitting in the west, biggish swollen clouds to be seen |2|aas the night increaseda| and many poring up at them2| and some lightnings at first and after (v.s.) one great |2crack stroke2| with a long thunder and |2in a brace of shakes2| all running pellmell within |2doors door2| for the smoking shower, the men making cover for their straws with a clout or kerchief, womenfolk all |2ahurry |aaskip skipping ahurry offa|2| with kirtles |2catched2| up soon as the pour came. In Ely place, Baggot street, thence through Merrion green up to Holles street a swash of water running that was before brave dry but no |2more2| crack after that first. Over against |2duke's Lawn the Rt. Hon. Mr Justice Fitzgibbon's house (that is sitting with Mr Healy about the college lands)2| Ma. Mulligan |2met |aruns chanceda| against2| |2Al.2| Seymour of Trinity that was new got to town from Mullingar with the stage, |2and asks what in the earth he does there2| he bound home and he to Andrew Horne's |2being stayed for2| but would tell him of a skittish |2wench heifer |abig of her agea|2| and so both together on to Horne's. There Bloom |2of |athe Crawford'sa| journal2| sitting snug with a |2party covey2| of wags, likely |2brangling2| fellows, among them Dixon jun., |2scholar of my lady of Mercy's2| Ja. Lynch, doc. Madden, |2Lenehan, very sad for a horse he fancied,2| and Stephen D. Bloom for a languor he had but was now better, he having dreamed tonight a strange fancy |2of |awife his dame witha| hair and slippers which is thought to be for a bad birth2| and mistress Purefoy there |2to be delivered that got in, pleading her belly, now |along on the stoolsa|2|, poor body, two days past her term
{ms, 2}
theº midwives sore put to it |2and can't deliver.2||2'Tis her |afifth seventha| chick, I hear, |aallelujeruma| |aand Lady day last bit off her last's nails that was |bjust oldb| a twelvemonth,a| and her |aman huba|, fifty odd, |awith dundrearies, & a methodista| that is in the Congested districts board2| |2She crying for chicken broth She |acrying crazeda| for a riceslop that |athose in ken saya| is a shrewd drier of insides2| |2and should be a bullyboy by the knocks, they say, but2| God send her |2quick soon2| issue. In sum an infinite great fall of rain |2and all refreshed2| |2that and2| will much increase the harvest yet some believe after wind and water fire shall come for a prognostication of Malachi's almanac to have three things in all but this a mere fetch |2without bottom of reason2| for |2women old crones2|, bairns and such cattle yet sometimes they are found in the right guess |2without their queerities2|, no telling how.

{Section VI: MS V.A.16: U84 14.529-650}

VI
{ms, 1}

(6)

Withº this came up Lenehan to the |2hither end feet2| of the table to say how the letter was in that night's gazette and he made a show to find it about him (for he swore with an oath he had been at pains about it) but on |2the persuasion of Stephen Stephen's persuasion2| he gave over to search and was bidden to sit near by which he did mighty brisk. He was a kind of sport gentleman that went for a merryandrew or honest pickle and what belonged of women, horseflesh or new scandal in the town he knew it pat. To tell the truth he was mean in fortunes and for the most part hankered about the |2cookshops coffeehouses2| and low taverns with crimps, ostlers & bookies and rogues of ofº the game |2or with a |afriendly chanceablea| catchpole2|, often at nights till broad day, of whom he picked up loose gossip. He took his ordinary at a boiling cook's and if he had but gotten a mess of broken victuals into him |2a side of |aboileda| tripes and cowheel2| or a bare tester in his purse in any company he could always bring himself off with his tongue, some randy quip he had from a punk or whatnot that every mother's son of them would burst their sides. The other, Costello that is, hearing this talk asked was it poetry or a tale. Faith no, |2Frank, he says he says, Frank2|, (that was his name). 'Tis all about Kerry cows that are to be butchered along of the plague. But they can go hang, says he |2with a wink2|, for me with their bully beef, a pox on it. There's as good fish in this tin as ever came out of it and very friendly he offered to take of some salty sprats that stood by which he had been looking wishly on for this was indeed the chief design of his embassy |2as he was sharpset2|. Mort aux vaches, says Frank then in the French
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tongueº that had been |2articled indentured2| to a wineshipper in Bordeaux |2& was back now with naked pockets2| and he spoke French like a gentleman too. From a child this Frank had been a donought |2that the headborough and the stripe made to that his father, a headborough |ain, matriculated ata| the university but he took his matriculati to study the mechanics but he took the bit in his teeth like a raw colt and he was more familiar with the justiciary and the parish beadle than with his volumes2|, one time he would be a divine, then a welsher, then he was for the |2ocean2| sea or to |2tramp foot it on2| the roads with the romany folk, to feck |2linen of the maids maids' linen2| choking chickens behind a hedge. What, says Mr Leopold |2with his hands across2|, that was earnest to know the drift of it, will they slaughter all. I |2protest Iº2| saw them but this |2day2| morning going to the English boats, says he. I can scarce believe 'tis so bad. He had experience too of the like brood |2cattle beasts2| and springers, |2wether wool2| and greasy hoggets and of Gavin Low's meadow auctions having been at one time of life an actuary for Mr Joseph Cuffe's, a worthy salesmaster that drove his trade for cattle and meadow auctions hard by Mr Gavin Low's yard in Prussia street. |2I question with you2| More like, says he, 'tis the hoose or the timber tongue. Mr Stephen, a little moved but very handsomely told him no such matter and that he had dispatches from the emperor's chief tailtickler |2thanking him for the hospitality2| that was sending over |2Doctor Rinderpest2| the bestquoted cowcatcher in all Muscovy with a bolus or two of physic to take the bull by the horns. Come, come, says Mr Lynch, plain dealing. He'll find himself soon on the horns of a dilemma if he meddles with |2an Irish bull a bull that's Irish2|, says he. Irish she is, says Mr Stephen, as he sent the ale purling about, an Irish bull in an English chinashop. I conceive you, says Mr Dixon, It is that same bull that was sent to our island by a certain Farmer
{ms, 3}
Nicholas, the bravest cattlebreeder of them all with an emerald ring in his nose. True for you, says Mr Lynch |2cross the table2|, and a bullseye into the bargain, says he, and a plumper and a portlier bull never shit on shamrock. He had horns galore and a coat of cloth of gold and sweet smoky breath coming out of his nostrils so that the women of our island, leaving pots and rollingpins, followed after him everywhere, hanging his |2bullship bulliness2| in daisychains. What for that, says Mr Dixon, but before he came farmer Nicholas that was a eunuch had him properly gelded by seven cowcatchers that were no better off than himself, So be off now, says he with a farmer's blessing |2and do all my cousin |agermana| the lord Harry tells you2| and |2with thatº2| he slapped his posteriors very soundly. But the slap and the blessing stood him friend, says Mr Lynch, for to make up he taught him a trick worth two of the other so that maid, wife, abbess and widow to this day affirm they would rather any day of the month whisper in his ear in the dark of a cowhouse or get a lick on the neck from his long tongue than lie with the finest strapping young ravisher in the four fields of all Ireland. Another then put in his word: And they dressed him, says he, in a loose shift and petticoat with a tippet too and clipped his forelocks and rubbed him with |2macasser spermacetic2| oil and they built a great barn for him with a gold manger in it full of the best hay in the market for by this time the father of the faithful (for so they called him) was so heavy
{ms, 4}
he could scarce walk to pasture. To remedy which our dames and damsels brought him his fodder in their apronlaps, and, as soon as his belly was full, he used to rear up on his hind quarters to show their ladyships a mystery and roar and bellow in bull's language and they all after him. Ay, says another, and so pampered was he he would have nought growing in all the land but |2greenº2| grass for himself and when he was full up (for that was the only colour to his mind) and there was a board put up on a hillock in the middle of the island with a notice printed on it, saying: |2By the Lord Harry2| Green is the grass that grows on the ground. And if ever he got scent |2of a cattleraider in the wilds of Sligo2| of a husbandman that was sowing as much as a handful of mustard or a bag of rapeseed he'd run amok |2over half the countrysideº2| rooting up with his horns whatever was planted and all by Lord Harry's orders. At first there was bad blood between them because the lord Harry had a quarrel with his cousin farmer Nicholas and called him Old Nick and an old whoremaster and I'll |2dish make2| that animal smell hell, says he, with the help of that good pizzle |2my father left me2|. But one |2morning evening2| when the lord Harry was |2dressing |awashing cleaninga| his royal pelt2| for a great time after winning a boatrace (he had |2spade2| oars for himself but one of the rules |2of the course2| was that the others were to row with pitchforks) he discovered |2in himself2| a wonderful likeness |2in himself2| to |2the a2| bull and on looking up |2his family tree a blackthumbed chapbook that he kept in the pantry2| he found he was |2the lineal a lefthand2| descendant of the famous Roman |2champion2| bull |2that was2| named |2Bos Bovum which is good bog latin for2| Boss of the Show. After that the lord Harry
{ms, 5}
and the bull of Ireland were as fast friends as an arse and a shirt. They were, says Mr Lynch, and the end was that the men of the island seeing no help was toward, as the ungrate women were all of the one mind, made a raft of timbers, loaded themselves and their chattels aboard, set all masts erect, spread three sheets in the wind, ran up the Jolly Roger |2sprang their luff2| and pushed off |2for to recover2| the main of America in search of, which was the occasion of the composing by a boatswain of the famous seachanty:

Pope Peter's but a pissabed.
A man's a man for a' that.

{Section VII: MS V.A.17: U84 14.651-844}

VII
{ms, 1}

(7)

Ourº worthy acquaintance Mr Mal Mulligan now appeared in the doorway as the student was concluding his apologue accompanied with a friend of his a young gentleman |2whom he had just rencountered2|, his name Seymour who had lately come up to town, it being his intention to |2take a buy a colour or2| cornetcy and list for the wars. Mr Mulligan |2|aput off his hat & advanceda|2| was obliging enough to express some relish of it and all the more as it jumped with a project of his own for the cure of the very evil which had been touched on. Whereat (Saying which), he handed round to the company a set of cards pasteboard cards |2that which2| he had had printed that day at Thom's, and on which was printed in flowing italics the legend: Mr Malachi Mulligan, Fertiliser |2& Incubator2|, Lambay. His project, as he went on to expound, was to withdraw from the round of idle pleasures such as form the chief business of sir fopling |2Popinjay |a& sir milksop quidnunca|2| in town and to devote himself to the noblest task for which our bodily organism has been framed. |2Well, let us hear of it, |agood my friend,a| said Mr Dixon. Come, be seated both. 'Tis as cheap sitting as standing. Mr Malachi Mulligan accepted of the invitation and, expatiating upon his project, said2| He had been led into this thought by a consideration of the causes of sterility, both the inhibitory and the prohibitory, whether the inhibition in its turn were due to conjugal vexations or to parsimony as well as whether the prohibition proceeded from defects congenital or from proclivities acquired. It grieved him |2plaguily2|, he said, sorely to see the nuptial couch defrauded of its dearest pledges: and to reflect upon so many agreeable females with rich jointures |2who lose their bloom in a cloister a prey to the vilest bonzes, hide their |alight flambeaua| under a bushel in some uncongenial cloister or lose their bloom & pine in |amarriage with the embraces ofa| an unaccountable muskin2| when they might multiply the inlets of happiness, sacrificing the inestimable jewel of their sex so sadly when a hundred pretty fellows were at hand to caress had been to him, he assured them, a thorn in the flesh. To meet
{ms, 2}
thisº inconvenient |2he had advised which he concluded |ato be ita| due to a suppression of latent heat,2| having advised with certain counsellors of worth, |2he concluded to be due to a suppression of latent heat,2| he had resolved to purchase |2in fee simple2| the freehold of Lambay island from count Anthony Considine, a gentleman of note much in favour with our high church party, and there to set up a national fertilising farm to be named |2the Ladies' Friend Omphalos2|, he offering his dutiful yeoman service to any female of what grade of life soever who should there direct to him, with the desire of fulfilling the functions of her natural. For his nourishment, he said, he would |2subsist feed him2| exclusively on the fish and coneys there, this |2latter flesh flesh of these latter prolific2| being highly recommended for his purpose, both broiled and stewed. After this homily, which he delivered with much warmth of asseveration, Mr Mulligan |2removed |ain a tricea| put off2| from his hat a kerchief with which he had sheltered it. They both had been surprised by the rain, it seems, and for all their mending their pace had taken water as might be seen from Mr Mulligan's suit of a hodden grey which was now somewhat piebald. His project meanwhile was very favourably entertained by his audience |2except for Mr Dixon Mr Dixon |aof Mary'sa| excepted to it by2| asking |2with a finicking air2| did he purpose also carrying coals to Newcastle. Mr Mulligan however made court to the scholarly by an apt quotation from the classics which as it dwelt upon his memory, seemed a conclusion confirmation |2sound & cogent2| of his contention. Talis ac tanta depravatio huius seculi, O quirites, ut |2matronae matres familiarum2| nostrae lascivas cuiuslibet libici titillationes testibus ponderosis atque excelsis erectionibus centurionum Romanorum
{ms, 3}
magnopereº anteponunt, while for those of ruder wit he drove home his point by analogies of the animal kingdom more suitable to their relishes, the buck and doe of the field, the domestic drake and duck.

Valuing himself not a little upon his |2person elegance being indeed a proper man of |ahisa| person2| he now applied himself to his |2person dress2| with animadversions of some spleen upon the sudden shower while the company lavished their encomiums upon the project he had advanced. The young gentleman, his friend, overjoyed as he was at a passage that had lately befallen him could not forbear to tell it his nearest neighbour of it. Mr Mulligan now perceiving the table asked for whom those loaves and fishes were and then, seeing the stranger, he made him a civil bow and said, Pray, sir, was you in need an of any |2professionalº2| assistance we can give? Who upon his offer thanked him very heartily, though preserving his proper distance, and made return that he was come there about a lady of Horne's house that was in an interesting condition, poor body, from woman's woe (and |2here he he here2| fetched a deep sigh) to hear if her happiness had yet taken place. Mr Dixon still rallying a little upon that plan |2asked took on to ask |aof Mr Mulligan whether his incipient ventripotence, on which he rallied him, betokened |ba an ovoblasticb| gestation in process in the prostatic utricle or male womb or was due, as with the — physician Mr Meldon, to a malady known as wolf in the stomacha|2| when was it known that blank Mr Mulligan smote himself bravely below the diaphragm, exclaiming with an admirable |2droll2| mimic of Mother Grogan (the most excellent creature of her sex though 'tis pity she's a trollop). There's a belly that never bore a bastard. This was so happy a conceit that it renewed the storm of mirth and threw the whole room into the most violent agitations of delight. He had run on in the same vein of mimicries but for
{ms, 4}
some larum in the antechamber.

Here the listener who was none other than the student from Perth, a little fume of a fellow, |2gratulated congratulated2| in the liveliest |2manner fashion2| with the young gentleman, and, interrupting the narrative at a salient point, and having desired his vis a vis with a polite beck to have the obligingness to pass him a flagon of cordial waters at the same time by a questioning poise of the head (a whole century of polite breeding had not achieved so nice a gesture) to which was united an equivalent but contrary balance of the bottle asked the narrator as plainly as was ever done in words if he might treat him with a cup of it. Mais bien sûr, said he cheerily, That you may and very opportunely. There wanted nothing but this cup to crown my felicity. But was I left with but a crust in my wallet and a cupful of water from the well |2My God2| |2I would freely accept of it2| I could find it in my heart to kneel down upon the ground and thanksº the powers above for the happiness vouchsafed me. With these words he |2approached the goblet to his lips and2| took a complacent draught of the cordial, slicked his hair and opening his bosom out popped a locket that hung from a silk ribbon, that very picture which he had cherished ever since her hand had wrote therein. Gazing upon those features with a world of tenderness, Ah, Monsieur, he said, had you but beheld her at that affecting instant |2|awith her piquant with her dainty tucker & the coquettea| little |anew |bPhrygianb|a| cap awry, (a |apresent gifta| for her feast day, as she told me |aprettilya|)2|, in such an artless disorder, of so melting a tenderness, even you, Monsieur, |2I weigh2| had been impelled by the
{ms, 5}
generous nature to deliver yourself wholly into the hands of such an enemy or to quit the field for ever. I declare, I was never so touched in all my life. Thrice happy will he be whom that amiable creature will bless with her favours. A sigh of affection gave eloquence to these words and, having replaced the locket in his bosom, he wiped his eyes and sighed again. Beneficent distributor of the blessings to all thy creatures, how great & universal must be that sweetest of thy tyrannies which can hold in thrall, the free & the bond, the simple swain and the polished coxcomb, the lover in the heyday of reckless passion and the husband of maturer years. |2But I wander from the point2| Yet how mingled & imperfect are all sublunary joys! Maledicity Would to God, he |2cried exclaimed2| in anguish, that foresight had but remembered me to take my cloak along! |2I could weep to think of it.2| Then, though it had poured seven showers, we were neither of us a penny the worse. But, beshrew me, he cried, clapping hand to his forehead (brow), tomorrow will be a new day. I know of a clothier's where I can have for a livre as pretty a cloak as ever kept a lady from wetting. Tut, cries Le Fecondateur, tripping in, my friend Monsieur Moore, that most accomplished traveller (I have just cracked a bottle with him) is my authority that in Cape Horn they have a rain that will wet through any, even the stoutest, cloak. |2A drenching of that violence, he tells me, has sent more than one luckless fellow |ain good earnesta| posthaste to another world.º2| A livre! cries Monsieur Lynch. |2Pooh!2| The clumsy
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thingsº are |2not worth dear at2| a sou. |2A single sunshade, were it no bigger than a fairy mushroom, is worth ten such |astopgapsa|.2| No woman of any wit would wear them. My dear Kitty told me |2today2| she would dance in a deluge before ever she would starve in such an ark of salvation for as she reminded me (and|2, blushing piquantly,2| this she whispered in my ear though there was none to hear her but |2giddy2| butterflies) Dame Nature has implanted it in our hearts and it has become a household word that il y a deux choses for which the innocence of our original garb, in other circumstances a breach of the proprieties, is the fittest, indeed the only garment. The first, said she (and here my pretty philosopher, to |2draw fix2| my attention, gently tipped with her tongue the edge of my ear) the first is a bath — But at this point a bell in the hall, |2ringing tinkling2| most untimely, cut short a discourse which had promised so bravely for the enrichment of our store of knowledge.

Amid the general vacant hilarity of |2all the assembly2| the bell rang and while all were conjecturing what might be the cause the good Miss Callan came in and, having spoken a few words to young Mr Dixon, retired with a |2low profound2| bow to the company. The presence even for a moment among a party of debauchees of a woman endued with every quality of modesty and not less severe than beautiful refrained even the humour of the most licentious but her departure was the signal for an outbreak of ribaldry. Strike me silly, |2Dixon Doc2|, said the Costello, |2a low fellow who was fuddled2| I believe she has rendezvoused you. What, you dog? You |2succeed have a way2| with them? |2Gad's bud.2| Immensely so, said Mr Lynch. The bedside manner it is that
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theyº use in the Mater Hospice. |2Demme,2| Have I not seen |2sir Mickey O' Doctor O'Gargle2| chuck the nuns there under the chin. |2As I |ahope looka| to be saved, continued he, I had from my Kitty who has been wardmaid there any time these seven months.2| Lawksamercy, |2doctor,2| cried the |2gentleman young blood2| in the primrose vest, feigning a ladylike |2voice simper2| and with unbecoming squirmings of his body. How you do tease a body. Bless me, I'm all of a wibblywobbly. Why, you're as bad as |2dear2| Father |2Comity Cantekissem2|, that you are. May this pot of ale choke me, cried Costello, if she ain't in the family way. I knows a lady what's |2in pod got a white swelling2| quick as I |2sees her claps eyes on her2|. The young surgeon, however, rose and |2told begged2| the company to excuse his retreat as the nurse had just |2then2| informed him that he was needed in the ward. Merciful providence had |2seen fit been pleased2| to put a period to her sufferings which she had borne with laudable fortitude and she had given birth to a bouncing boy. I want patience, said he, with those who, without wit to enliven or learning to palliate, revile an ennobling profession |2which |ais a power for happiness no power upon the earth can —a|2| What? Malign such an one who is the lustre of her own sex and the astonishment of ours? And at a moment the |2most2| momentous that can befall a puny child of clay? |2I am positive when I say that, if need were, I could produce a cloud of witnesses to the excellence of her noble exercitations which, so far from being a mock byword, should be a glorious incentive.2| I shudder to think of the future of a race where the seeds of such malice have been sown, and where no right reverence is rendered to mother and maid in house of Horne. Having delivered himself of this rebuke he saluted those present
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and repaired to the door. A murmur of approval arose from all and some were for ejecting the low |2fellow soaker2| without more ado, a design which would have been effected had he not abridged his transgression by affirming with |2an oath a horrid imprecation |a(for he was a swore a round hand)a|2| that he was as |2true good2| a son of |2holy church as ever any was the true fold as any2|. I may have sinned against the light, he said in tones of compunction, but, I give thanks to Heaven Stap my vitals, said he, them was always the sentiments of |2honest2| Frank Costello which I was bred up |2most particular2| to honour thy father and thy mother by poor dear mamma |2that had the best hand to a rolypoly |ahasty puddinga| you ever see2| what taught me I always looks back on with a loving heart.

{Section VIII: MS V.A.18: U84 14.845-1109}

VIII
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(8)

To revert to Mr Bloom, who, after his first entry had been conscious of some impudent mocks which he, however, had borne with |2them2| as being the fruits of that age |2against upon2| which it is commonly charged that it knows not pity|2, these words were for him an unwelcome language2|. The |2students young sparks2| were full of extravagancies, it was true, |2like overgrown children,2| and the words of their tumultuary discussions were difficultly understood and not often nice: their testiness and outrageous mots were such that his nature resiled from: nor were they scrupulously unread of the proprieties though their fund of strong animal spirits spoke in their behalf. But the word of Mr Costello was an unwelcome language for him for in he nauseated the man that seemed to him a |2misshapen creature creature of misshapen gibbosity2| got in some uncouth way and |2prematurely born come, like a crookback, |atootheda| feet first into the world2| so as to put him in thought of that missing link in the chain of beings desiderated by the late ingenious Mr Darwin. It was now for more than the middle span of our allotted years that he had passed through the thousand vicissitudes of existence and, being of a wary ascendance and self a man of |2the rarest rare2| forecast, he had enjoined his heart to repress all motions of a rising choler and, by intercepting them with the readiest precaution, foster within his breast that plenitude of sufferance which base minds jeer at, the hasty scorn and all find tolerable and but tolerable. To those who create themselves wits at the cost of feminine delicacy to them he would concede neither to bear the name nor to inherit the tradition of nice breeding: while for such that, having lost all forbearance, can lose no more, there remained the sharp antidote of experience to cause their insolency to beat
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an inglorious retreat. Not but what he could feel with mettlesome youth which, caring nought for the |2megrims blank2| of dotards or the gruntlings of the severe, is ever for eating of the tree forbid it yet not so far forth as to pretermit humanity upon any condition soever towards a gentlewoman when she was about her lawful occasions. To conclude, while from the sister's words, when questioned, he had reckoned upon a speedy delivery he was, however, it must be owned, not a little alleviated by the intelligence that the issue so auspicated after a trial of such duress now testified once more to the mercy as well as to the bounty of the Supreme Being.

Accordingly he broke his mind to his neighbour saying that to express his notion of the thing, his opinion (who ought not perhaps to express one) was that one must have a cold constitution and a cold genius not to be rejoiced by this freshest news of the fruition of her confinement since she had been in such pain through no fault of hers. The dressy young spark said it was her husband's fault |2that put her |ain pod up the spouta|2| or at least it ought to be unless she were another Ephesian matron. I must acquaint you, said Mr Crotthers, clapping on the table so as to evoke a resonant comment of emphasis, |2holy Joe |aDoady |bO G old Gloryb| Allujeruma|2| was round today, a short meagre man with whiskers, preferring a request to have word of Wilhelmina his |2wife life2| as he calls her. I bade him hold himself in readiness for that the event would burst anon. For my part I cannot but extol the virile potency of the old bucko that could |2still2| knock another child out of her. All fell to praising of it, each after his fashion, though the same young spark held with his former view that another
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thanº he |2a clerk in orders or an itinerant vendor of articles necessary in |athe everya| household2| was the man in the gap. Singular, muttered the guest to himself, the wonderfully unequal faculty of metempsychosis possessed by them, that the puerperal chamber and the dissecting theatre should be the seminaries of such mirth and that the mere acquisition of academic honours should suffice to transform in a pinch of time these votaries of levity into exemplary practitioners of an art which most men anywise eminent esteem the noblest. But, he further added, it is but to relieve the pentup feelings that |2in common2| oppress them for |2that2| I have more than once observed that birds of a feather laugh together.

But with what fitness, let it be asked, has this alien whom the concession of a gracious prince has admitted to civic rights constituted himself the lord paramount of our |2politics domestic polity2|? Where is now that gratitude which loyalty should have counselled? During the recent war whenever the enemy had a temporary advantage |2with their granados2| did he not seize that moment to discharge his piece against the empire in which he is a tenant at will while he trembled for the security of his four per cents? Has he forgotten this as he forgets benefits received? Or is it that from being a deluder of others he has become his own dupe as he is |2if report belie him not2| his own and his only enjoyer? Far be it from candour to violate the bedchamber of a respectable lady, the daughter of a gallant major, or to cast the most distant reflections upon her virtue but if he challenges attention there (as it was indeed highly his interest not to have done) then be it so. Unhappy woman, she has been too long and too persistently denied her legitimate
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prerogativeº to listen to his objurgations with any other feeling than the derision of the desperate. He says this, a censor of morals, |2a veri very pelican in his piety2| who did not scruple, oblivious of the ties of nature, to enter into illicit relations with a domestic servant drawn from the lowest strata of society. |2Nay, was not |aa the hussy'sa| scouring brush |athe did nota| shield |aofa| her |aHagar'sa| honour.2| In the question of the grazing lands his peevish asperity is notorious and in Mr Cuffe's hearing brought upon him from an indignant cattlebreeder a rebuke as straightforward as |2he was they were2| bucolic. It ill becomes |2him2| to preach that gospel. Has he not himself nearer home a seedfield that lies fallow for the want of a ploughshare. A habit reprehensible at puberty is second nature and an opprobrium in middle life. If he must dispense balm of Gilead to restore to health a generation of unfledged profligates let his practice consist better with the doctrines that now engross him. His marital breast is the repository of secrets which decorum is reluctant to adduce. |2Let2| the lewd suggestion of some faded and beauty |2may2| console him for a |2wife consort2|, neglected & debauched, but this new exponent of natural philosophy and healer of ills is at best an oriental tree, which when rooted in its native |2Gilead Orient2| throve abundant in balm, but transplanted, its roots have lost their vigu vigour |2and while2| the stuff that comes away from it is stagnant |2acid2| and inoperative.

The news was imparted with |2customary circumspection a circumspection reminiscent of the Sublime Porte2| by the second female |2attendant infirmarian2| to the junior
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|2|amedical officera|2| residentº who in his turn announced to the delegation that an heir had been born. When he had |2retired betaken himself2| to the women's apartment in |2his her2| company to assist at the |2prescribed2| ceremony of the afterbirth the delegates, chafing under the length & solemnity of their vigil and hoping that the joyful occurrence would palliate for a licence which the simultaneous absence of abigail and officer rendered the easier, broke out at once into a strife of tongues. In vain the voice of Mr Canvasser Bloom was heard endeavouring to urge, to mollify, to refrain: the moment was too propitious for the display of that discursiveness which seemed the sole bond of union among tempers so varied and divergent. Every phase of the situation was successively eviscerated: the prenatal |2struggle repugnance2| of uterine brothers, |2The fratricidal case known as the Queen v. Childs |amurdera| and rendered memorable by the impassioned plea by which Mr Advocate Bushe secured the acquittal of the client2| the Caesarean operation, the rights of primogeniture and queen's bounty touching twins & triplets, miscarriages & infanticides, simulated & dissimulated, acardiac foetus in foetu, aprosopopia due to congestion Agnatia of certain chinless Chinese Cited by Mr Candidate Mulligan as a consequence of a defective reunion of maxillary knobs along the medial line so that, as he said, one ear can catch what the other says. twilight sleep the premature relentment of the amniotic fluid having necessitated an artificial distention of the uterine c matrix the recorded instances of multiseminal |2twikindled &2| monstrous births |2which the masterpiece of Aristotle has catalogued2|. The gravest problems of obstetrics and forensic medicine were examined with as much animation as the most popular beliefs on the subject of pregnancy such as the forbidding a gravid woman to step over a countrystile lest, by her movement, the navelcord should strangle the foetus in her womb and the injunction upon her in the event of a yearning, ardently & ineffectually entertained, to lay her hand against that part of her person which long usage has consecrated as the seat of castigation. The abnormalities of harelip and strawberry mark |2and breastmole2| were cited by one as a prima facie and natural explanation of those swineheaded or doghaired infants occasionally born in opposition to the Caledonian envoy, whose theory |2of the plasmic memory2|, worthy of the metaphysical traditions of the land he stood
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for,º said in such cases an arrest of embryonic development at some stage antecedent to the human. A |2foreign outlandish2| delegate of a somewhat bestial cast of countenance sustained with such heat as almost carried conviction the theory of copulation between women and and the males of brutes, his authority being his own avouchment in support of fables such as that of the Minotaur which the genius of the polished Latin poet has handed down to us. The impression made by his words on an assembly so mobile was immediate but shortlived. It was effaced as easily as it had been evoked by an allocution from Mr Candidate Mulligan in that vein of pleasantry which none more than he knew how to effect, postulating as the extremest object of desire a nice clean old man. Contemporaneously a heated argument having arisen between Mr Delegate Madden and Mr Candidate Lynch respecting the juridical & theological dilemma in the event of one Siamese twin predeceasing the other, the matter by mutual consent was referred to Mr Canvasser Bloom for instant submittal to Mr |2Coadjutor2| Deacon Dedalus. Hitherto silent, whether the better to show that curial dignity in the garb of which he was invested or in obedience to an inward voice, he delivered briefly and, as some thought, perfunctorily the ecclesiastical |2sentence ordinance2| forbidding man to put asunder what God had joined.
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|2⇒ Malachi's tale froze them with horror. The secret panel beside the chimney slid back and in the recess |amissinga| appeared — Haines. |aHe had a book of poems in his hand.a| Surprise, horror, loathing appeared on all faces while he eyed them with a ghostly grin. I anticipated such a reception, he began. Yes, it is true. I am the murderer of Samuel Childs. |aHell has no terrors for me as for the ancient Erse. For me, or for the modern Erseman, hell is here & now. |bBack!b|a| I have tried to obliterate my crime by distractions, rookshooting, the Erse language (he recited some words), laudanum (he raised the phial to his lips), camping out. His spectre troubles stalks me. |aI must buy more dope.a| — Ah! the black panther. |amissinga| He vanished and the panel slid back. An instant later his head app appeared in the mirror and spoke
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these words: Meet me at Westland Row station at ten past eleven. |aHe was gone.a| Tears gushed from the host's eyes. The seer raised his hand to heaven and murmured: 'Tis the vengen vengeance of Aum Mananaun. The sage repeated several times that |aLex talionis aa| sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a thing done. Malachi ceased, overcome. The mystery was unveiled. Haines was the third brother. His real name was Childs. He murdered his brother. Hamlet, the black panther, was |ahimselfa| the ghost of his own father. He drank drugs to obliterate. For this relief much thanks.
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The lonely house |anear bya| the graveyard is uninhabited.
2|
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Whatº is the age of the soul of man? As she hath the virtue of the chameleon to change her hue at every new approach,
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to be gay with the |2gay merry2| and mournful with the downcast, so is her age too changeable as her mood. No longer is Leopold |2|aruminating chewing the cud of reminiscencea|2| the staid agent of publicity as he sits there. A score of years are blown away: He is young Leopold. There in a retrospective arrangement, as in a mirror within a mirror, he beholdeth himself. That young figure of then is seen walking on a nipping morning from the old house in Clanbrassil Street to the high school, his book satchel on him bandolier with his books and a |2fair goodly2| hunk of wheaten loaf. Or it is the same figure, a brace of years gone over, in its first hard hat (Ah, that was a day!), already on the road, a fullfledged traveller for the family firm equipped with a orderbook, a scented handkerchief not for show only, his case of bright trinketware |2(a thing of the past now)2| and a quiverful of compliant smiles for this or that halfwon housewife, reckoning it out on her fingertips |2or for a budding virgin, shyly acknowledging his baisemoins2|. The scent, the smile but |2most of all more than these2| the dark eyes |2|aand rich olive skina| the |asleek oleaginousa| address2| brought many a commitment home by dusk to the head of the firm, seated in |2the paternal ingle2| after like labours, reading through horned spectacles some paper from the Europe of a month before. |2Now Then2| the mirror is breathed on and the young |2adventurer knighterrant2| recedes, shrivels, dwindles to a tiny point within the mist. Now he is himself paternal and these about him might be his sons. Who can tell? For only the wise father knows his own child. He thinks of a drizzling night in Hatch street hard by the bonded stores, the first. Together (she is a poor waif, a child of shame, of one and of all for a bare shilling & her luckpenny) together they hear the heavy tread of the watch as two raincaped shadows pass the university and. Bridie Kelly. He will ever remember the name and the night, the
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first, the bridenight. They are entwined in nethermost darkness, the willer with the willed and in an instant (fiat!) light shall flood the world. But hold! Back! It must not be! In terror the poor girl flees away through the murk. She is the bride of darkness, a daughter of night. She dare not bear the sunnygolden babe of day. No, Leopold. Name and memory solace thee not. That youthful illusion of thy strength was taken from thee and in vain. |2No son of thy loins is here.2| There is none now to be for Leopold what was Leopold for Rudolph.

The voices blend and fuse in clouded silence: silence that is the infinity of space: and |2silently, swiftly swiftly, silently2| the soul is wafted over the regions of cycles of generations that have lived. A twilight region where grey |2eve twilight2| ever descends and never falls on |2the2| wide sagegreen pasturefields, shedding her duskº scattering a perennial dew of stars. She follows her mother with ungainly steps, a mare leading her filly foal. Twilight phantoms are they yet moulded in prophetic grace of structure, slim shapely haunches, the supple tendonous neck, the meek apprehensive skull. They fade, sad phantoms, and all is gone. Agendath is a waste land, a home of screechowls and the sandblind upupa: Netaim, the golden, is no more. And on the highway of the clouds they come, muttering thunder of rebellion, the ghosts of beasts. |2Huuh! Hark! Huuh! Parallax stalks behind & goads them and the lancinating lightnings of whose brow are scorpions.2| Elk and yak, the bulls of Babylon and of Bashan, the mammoth and the mastodon, they come trooping to the sunken sea, Lacus Mortis. Ominous, revengeful, zodiacal host! They moan, passing upon the clouds, horned and capricorned, the trumpeted with the tusked, |2the lionmaned2| the giantantlered, |2the snouters, |athe crawlersa|, the ruminant and pachyderms,2| all |2the their2| moaning multitude, murderers
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ofº the sun.

|2Onward2| Toº the dead sea they |2pass tramp2| to drink |2unsated unslaked2| and with horrible gulpings the |2inexhaustible2| saline somnolent |2inexhaustible salt2| flood. And the equine portent grows again, magnified in the deserted heaven, nay to heaven's own magnitude till it looms vast over the house of virgo. And lo, wonder of metempsychosis, it is she, everlasting bride, |2the bride2| harbinger of the daystar, the bride, ever virgin the. |2It is she,2| Martha, |2the thou2| lost one, Millicent, |2the dear, the young the young, the dear2|, the radiant. How serene does she now arise |2a queen among the pleiades,2| in the |2pale penultimate2| antelucan hour, |2shod2| in sandals of bright gold, coifed with a veil of what do you call it gossamer. It |2flows floats2|, it flows about her starborn flesh, and loose it |2waves streams2|, emerald, sapphireº, heliotrope |2& mauve2|, |2streamed in the sustained on2| cold currents of interstellar wind, winding, coiling, |2streaming simply swirling2|, writhing a mysterious writing till, after a myriad metamorphoses of |2character symbol2|, its it blazes for th |2in the skies2|, |2Alpha|a, a ruby anda|2| a triangled |2& bloodred2| sign, upon the forehead of Taurus.

{Section IX: MS NLI.11E: U84 14.1110-428}

IX
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9)

|2Costello Francis2| wasº reminded reminding Stephen of years before when they had been at school in Conmee's time. He asked about Patrick and James and other friends. Where were they now? Neither knew. You have spoken of the past and its phantoms, Stephen said. Why think of them? If I call them into life across the waters of Lethe will the poor ghosts not troop to my call? Who supposes it? I, Bous Stephanoumenos, am lord and giver of their life. |2Bullockbefriending bard2| He encircled his gadding hair with a coronal of vineleaves, smiling at Vincent. The answer and those leaves, Vincent said |2to him2|, will adorn you more fitly when something more |2and greatly more2| than a capful of light songs can call you father. All |2who wish you well2| hope this for you. |2All desire |ato acclaim a work of yours to see you bring forth the work you meditate, to acclaim you Stephaneforosa|.2| I heartily wish you may not fail them. O no Vincent, Lenehan said, laying his hand on the shoulder nearest near him. Have no fear. He could not leave his mother an orphan. The young man's face grew dark: all could see how sad it was for him to be reminded of his promise and of his recent loss. He would have withdrawn from the feast had not the noise of voices allayed the smart. Madden had lost five sesterces on Sceptre. Lenehan as much more. He told them of the race. The flag fell and, huuh,! off, scamper, the mare ran out freshly with O. Madden up. She was leading the field. All hearts were beating even Phyllis waved her scarf |2She could not contain herself2| and cried: Sceptre wins. But on the run home in close order Throwaway |2drew level2| outstripped her. All was lost. Phyllis was silent: her eyes were sad anemones: |2Mercy, cried she, I am undone2| but her lover consoled her and brought her a little |2basket of delicate berries casket of delicate |aovala| sweets2| which she partook. A whacking fine whip, said Lenehan, is W. Lane. Four winners yesterday and four today. What rider is like him? Mount him on a
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camelº or the boisterous buffalo the victory is still his. But let us bear it as was the Roman wont. Poor Sceptre! he said with a light sigh, she is not the filly that she was. Never |2by this hand,2| shall we behold such another, a queen of them. Do you remember her, Vincent? I wish you could have seen my queen today, Vincent said. How young she was and radiant in her tan shoes and frock of muslin. I do not know the right name of it. |2The chestnuts were in bloom about us: |aShading usa|, |aanda| the air was |aheavy droopinga| with their persuasive odour and with pollen |afloating bya|. In the sunny patches one might have |abaked cookeda| on a stone |aone of those a batch of littlea| buns they make with Corinth fruit which they sell in the booths.2| |2She was ill lately |asome four days a week sincea| |a& cast downa|. But today I like her best then. But today she was free, blithe and mocked at peril. She is more taking then,2| A Her posies too! Mad romp that she is she had pulled her fill as we lay together. And in your ear, my friend, he said to Francis, you will not imagine who met us as we left the field. Conmee himself. |2He was walking by the hedge reading a brevier, I think, with perhaps the story a witty letter of Glycera's to tell the page2| The sweet creature turned all colours in her confusion, feigning to reprove a slight disorder of her dress: a slip of undergrowth clung there for the very trees adore her. When Conmee had passed she glanced at her lovely echo in the little glass she carries. But he was kind to us: in going by he blessed us. The gods too are ever kind, Lenehan said. If I had poor luck with Bass's mare perhaps this draught of his may serve me more propensely. He was laying his hand upon a winejar: Malachi saw it and withheld his act: he pointed to the stranger and then to the scarlet label. Warily, Malachi whispered. Preserve a druid silence. His soul is far away. It is as painful perhaps to be awakened from a vision as to be borne. Any object, intensely regarded, may be a gate of access to the incorruptible eon of the gods. Do you not think it, Stephen? Theosophos told me so, Stephen answered. Him as a youth the |2|ain a previous existencea| Egyptian2| priests |2of Egypt2| initiated into their mysteries |2of karmic law2|. The lords of the moon, Theosophos told me, an orangetawny shipload from planet Alpha of the lunar chain would not |2incarnate assume2| the etheric doubles and these were therefore incarnated by the
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rubycolouredº egos from the second constellation.

However, as a matter of fact though the |2preposterous2| surmise about him being in some sort of a |2trance doldrums |aor othera|2| which was |2entirely2| due to a misconception of the |2most shallow shallowest2| description, was |2preposterously2| not the case at all. The individual whose visual organs |2whilst all this was going on,2| were |2now at this juncture2| commencing to exhibit symptoms of |2life animation2| was as astute or astuter than any man living and |2anybody anyone2| that conjectured the contrary would have discovered themselves pretty quickly mistaken. |2For During2| the last |2few 42| minutes or thereabouts |2after the momentbefore's observation about boyhood days and the turf,2| he had been staring at a certain amount of |2number one2| beer, bottled by Bass & Co at Burton on Trent and which happened to be situated right |2in front of |aopposite amongsta|2| where he was and was certainly calculated to attract anybody's eye no matter whom on account of its scarlet appearance. He was simply and solely |2as it subsequently transpired, |awhich put an altogether different complexion on the transaction,a|2| recollecting two or three private transactions of his own of which the two others were as mutually innocent |2of2| as the babe unborn. Eventually, however, both their eyes met and accordingly perceiving that the other was endeavouring to help himself out of the bottle he involuntarily |2decided determined2| to help him himself and so |2he2| accordingly |2he2| |2grasped took hold of the neck2| the glass mediumsized recipient which contained the |2refreshment |aliquid fluida|2| sought after and made a capacious hole in it by pouring a lot of it out with |2at the same time besides,2| a considerable degree of attentiveness |2in order2| not to upset any of the beer that was in it |2about around2| the place.

The debate which ensued was, in its scope and progress, an epitome of the course of life. |2Neither place nor |apersons councila| was lacking.2| The debaters were the keenest in the land. The theme they were engaged on was the loftiest and most vital. The common hall of Horne's house had never beheld an assembly so representative and so varied nor had the old walls of that establishment ever heard listened to a language so encyclopaedic. |2A gallant scene it made.2| Then at the
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footº of the table Crotthers |2was there2| in his striking highland garb, his face glowing from the briny airs of the Mull of Galloway, sat opposite to Lynch whose countenance born already the stigmata of early depravity and premature wisdom. Next the Scotchman was the place assigned to Costello, the eccentric, while at his side was seated, in stolid |2calm repose2|, the squat form of Madden of |2Bantry Thurles2|. The chair of the resident indeed |2was stood2| vacant before the hearth but on either side of it the figure of Bannon, in explorer's kit |2of tweed shorts & brogues of salted cowhide2| contrasted sharply with the primrose elegance and |2easy townbred2| manners of Malachi Roland St John Mulligan. Lastly at the head of the board was the young poet who found a refuge from his labours of pedagogy |2and metaphysical inquisition2| in the convivial atmosphere of Socratic discussion while to right and left of him were seated the flippant prognosticator, fresh from the hippodrome, and |2that the2| vigilant wanderer, soiled |2with by2| the dust of travel & conflict and stained by the mire of an indelible disgrace, but |2in from from2| whose |2strong |aconstant steadfast steadfast and constanta|2| heart no lure or peril or threat or degradation could ever efface the image of that voluptuous female loveliness which the |2inspired2| pencil of Lafayette has limned for |2posterity ages yet to come2|.

It had better be stated |2here at the outset2| that the |2perverted2| transcendentalism to which Mr Stephen Dedalus' |2Div. Scep.2| contentions would appear to prove him |2incurably pretty badly2| addicted |2if one is if we are to judge it2| runs directly counter to accepted scientific methods. Science, it cannot be too often repeated, deals with |2tangible2| phenomena. The man of science has to face |2hard hardheaded2| facts |2that won't be blinked2| and explain them as best he can. There may be, it is true,
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someº questions which science cannot answer — at present — such as the first problem submitted by Mr Bloom |2Mat. Mag.2| regarding the |2part played by |afuturea| determination of2| sex |2in birth |athe sex of her childa| if a lady happens to become enceinte2|. |2Must Are we2| we accept the view of Empedocles of Trinacria that the right ovary is responsible for the birth of males |2or the belief which |aattributes sex to holds that the nisus formativus isa| the posture of the passive element2| or |2again2| are the too long neglected spermatozoa the differentiating factors or is it, as the more advanced embryologists such as Lusk, Hertwig, Leopold and Valenti |2Culpepper Blumenbach Spallazani2|, are inclined to opine, a mixture of both? The other problem raised by the same |2gentleman inquirer |athough of a different descriptiona|2| is scarcely less vital: that of infant mortality. It is interesting because as he very pertinently |2remarks observes2| in this connection we are all born in the same way but we all die in different ways. |2Mr Cand.2| Mulligan |2|aHyg. Bac. Hyg. Doc et Hyg et Eug Doca|2| blames the hygienic conditions in which our greylunged citizens contract adenoids, pulmonary complaints, etc by inhaling the germs that lurk in dust. |2These factors and the disgusting spectacle |ato which the eyes of women were accustomeda| of our streets, hideous posters, denominational ministers, mutilated soldiers & sailors, |aparanoic bachelorsa| exposed carcases of beef for were accountable for the falling of the race |aKallipedia, he prophesied, will soon be adopted |bin every house when a birth was expectedb| and all the graces of life, really good music, agreeable literature, light philosophy, pleasant pictures, |bwith attendantb| plastercast reproductions of classical statues such as the Venus of and Apollo of Belvedere |bwould adorn the house in which a birth was expected would make a permit ab| prospective mother to pass her preganancy in a th most enjoyable manner.a|2| Dr Crotthers |2Discp. Bac2| attributes it to neglect, whether private or official. Although the former is unfortunately only too true the case he cites of nurses forgetting to |2remove count2| the sponges from the peritoneal cavity is too rare to be normative. An ingenious explanation is furnished by Mr Lynch |2B. Arith.2| that both natality & mortality, like all other natural phenomena |2of evolution2|, tidal movements, lunar phases, blood temperature, diseases in general, everything, in a word, in nature's vast workshop from the extinction of some remote sun to the blossoming of one of the countless flowers which beautify our |2public2| parks is subject to a law of
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numberº as yet unascertained. Still the plain straightforward question why a child of normal healthy parents and seemingly a healthy child and properly looked after |2dies succumbs2| unaccountably in early childhood or youth (though other d children of the same marriage do not) must certainly, as the poet |2says sings2|, give us pause. Nature, we may rest assured, has her own good |2& cogent2| reasons for |2all that whatever2| she does and in all probability such deaths are due to some law of anticipation by which organisms where morbous germs have taken up their residence (modern science has conclusively shown that only the plasmic substance can be said to be immortal) tend to disappear at an increasingly earlier stage of development, an arrangement which, though productive of pain to some of our feelings (notably the maternal) is nevertheless, all things considered, |2in the long run2| beneficial to the race in securing thereby the survival of the fittest. Mr Dedalus' remark (or should it be called an interruption?) that an omnivorous being which can masticate, deglute, digest and apparently pass in the ordinary fashion |2with pluterperfect imperturbability2| such various aliments as cancrenous females, emaciated by parturition, corpulent professional gentlemen, |2and blank not to speak of jaundiced |aclerics politicians politiciansa| and chlorotic |areligious nunsa|,2| might possibly find |2a gastric2| relief in an innocent |2meal collation2| of staggering bob reveals in a very unsavoury light the tendency above alluded to. For the enlightenment of those who
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perhapsº are not so intimately acquainted with the |2secrets minutiae2| of the municipal abattoir as this morbidminded esthete |2and embryo philosopher |awho can scarcely distinguish an acid from an alkali)a|2| prides himself on being it should perhaps be stated that staggering bob in the vile |2jargon parlance2| of our lowerclass licensed victuallers, signifies the cookable |2and edible2| flesh of a calf newly dropped from its mother. In a recent public controversy with Mr Bloom |2which took place in the students' hall of the National Maternity hospital in Holles Street of which, as is well known, sir A. Horne MB is the distinguished director2| he is reported as having stated that once a woman has let the cat into the bag she must let it out again or give it life (as he phrased it) to save her own. At the risk of her own was the telling rejoinder of his interlocutor none the less effective for the moderate tone in which it was delivered.

Meanwhile the skill and patience of the physician had brought about a happy accouchement. It had been a weary, weary while both for patient and doctor. All that surgical skill could do was done and the brave woman had manfully helped. She had. She had fought the good fight and now she was very very happy. |2Those who have passed are gazing down, happy too and smiling, upon the touching scene2| |2Reverently.2| Look at her as she reclines there |2a pretty sight it is to see2| in the first bloom of her new motherhood, breathing a silent prayer of thanksgiving to One above, the Universal Husband. And, as her loving eyes behold her babe she wishes only one blessing more, to have her |2Fonsy |aDody Doadya|2| there with her to share her joy, to lay in his arms the fruit of their lawful embraces. He is elderly now |2(|awe you and Ia| may whisper it)2| and a trifle stooped in the shoulders yet |2with in2| the |2progress whirligig2| of years a grave dignity has come to
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conscientiousº |2chief second2| accountant of the Ulster bank |2College green branch2|. |2Father Cronion has dealt here lightly2| O |2Fonsy Doady2|, loved one |2of old2|, faithful companion |2lifemate2| |2now2|, it may never be again that far off time of the roses! With the old shake of her pretty head she recalls those days, God, how beautiful now across the mist of years! But their children are |2there grouped2| in her imagination about |2her the2| bedside, hers and his, Charley, Mary Alice, Frederick Albert (if he had lived), Mamie, Budgey (|2Frances Victoria Victoria Frances2|), Tom, Violet Constance Louisa, darling little Bobsy (|2named called2| after our famous hero of the South African war, lord Bobs of Waterford and Candahar) and now this last. |2He Young hopeful2| will be christened Mortimer Edward after the influential third cousin of Mr Purefoy in Dublin Castle. No, let no sigh break from that bosom, dear gentle Mina. And Fonsy, knock the ashes from your |2pipe2|, the old briar you still fancy, when the curfew rings for you (may it be the distant day!) and dout the light |2whereby you read in the sacred book2| for the oil has run low in it and so |2with a tranquil heart2| to bed, to rest. You too have fought the good fight. Sir to you my hand. |2|aTo you the word of the sacred book.a|2| Well done, thou good & faithful servant.

There are sins, or let us call them evil memories, which are hidden away by man in the darkest places of the heart but they abide there & wait. He may suffer their memory to grow dim, let them be as though they had not been, and all but persuade
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himselfº that they were not or were otherwise yet a chance word will call them |2suddenly forth forth suddenly2| & they will rise up to confront him in the most various circumstances, |2the a2| vision of some dream, or while the harp and the timbrel soothe his senses or amid the cool silver tranquility of evening or at the feast at midnight when he is now filled with wine. Not to insult over him will the vision come as over one that lies under her wrath and not for vengeance to cut him off from the living but shrouded in the piteous vesture of the past, silent, remote, reproachful.

The stranger still regarded on the face before him a slow receding of that false calm there, imposed, as it seemed, by habit or some studied trick, upon words so embittered as to suggest in their speaker an unhealthy sensitiveness, a flair for the cruder things of life. A scene disengages itself in the observer's memory|2, a. A2| shaven space of lawn one soft May evening, the wellremembered grove of lilacs at Roundtown fragrant slender spectators of the game but with much real interest in the pellets as they run slowly forward over the sward and stop, one by its fellow, with a brief alert shock. And yonder about that grey urn |2where the water moves at times in thoughtful irrigation2| you saw another |2as fragrant2| sisterhood, Floey, Atty, Tiny and their darker friend with I know not what of arresting in her pose then |2|aand in the oval facea|2|, Our Lady of
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theº cherries, a comely brace of them pendant |2on her from an2| ear bringing out the foreign warmth of her skin so daintily against the cool ardent fruit. A lad of four or five in linsey woolsey of ripe damson is standing on the urn upheld secured by that circle of girlish |2fond2| hands. He frowns a little just as this young man does now with perhaps a too conscious enjoyment of the danger but must needs glance at whiles towards where his mother watches with a faint shadow of |2regret or of removal remoteness or of reproach2| in her |2glad fond2| still look.

Mark this farther and remember. The end comes suddenly. Enter that antechamber of birth where the studious are assembled and note their faces. Nothing, as it seems, there of rash or violent. Quietude of custody, rather, befitting their stations in that house, the vigilant watch of shepherds and of angels on that holiest of nights |2about a crib2| in Bethlehem long ago. But as before the lightning the serried stormclouds, heavy, with ponderous excess of moisture, in swollen masses, turgidly distended, compass earth and sky in one vast slumber, impending above parched field and drowsy oxen and blighted growth of shrub and verdure till in an instant a flash rives their centres and, with the reverberation of the thunder, the cloudburst pours its torrent so and not otherwise in that room of quiet was the transformation, violent
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&º instantaneous upon the utterance of the word.

Burke's! Outflings my lord Stephen, giving the cry, and a tag and bobtail of all their them after, cockerel, |2welcher,2| jackanapes, pilldoctor, punctual |2Bloom blank2| at heels, with a universal grabbing at headgear, ashplants, Zermatt alpenstocks, hats |2scabbards2| of Panama |2bilbos2| and what not. |2a dedale of lusty youth.2| Nurse Callan taken aback in the hallway cannot stay them nor smiling surgeon coming down the stairs with news of placentation ended, a full pound if a milligram. They hark him on. The door. It is open? Ha! They are forth, tumultuously off for a minute's race, all lustily legging it, |2noble every student there2| to Burke's of Denzille street their ulterior goal. Dixon follows, giving them sharp language, but raps out an oath and on. An instant Bloom stays with the nurse to send a good word to happy mother, convalescent, up there. Doctor Diet and Doctor Quiet. Looks she too not other now? |2The strain has told its tale to be read in that washedout pallor.2| And all being gone, a glance of motherwit helping, he whispers close |2 … |ain goinga|. Madam2| The air without is impregnated with raindew moisture, |2God's air, the Allfather's air. |aScintillant cessile air.a| Breathe it deep into thee2| life essence celestial, glistening on Dublin stone there under starshiny coelum. By heaven, |2Alphonsus Theodore2| Purefoy, thou hast done a doughty deed and no botch! |2In her lay preformed a godcreated possibility which |athou thy modicum of work hasta| hast fructified. |aCleave to her.a| Toil on, labour like a very bandog and let scholarment go hang.2| Thou art, I |2swear vow2|, |2barring none2| the remarkablest |2genitor progenitor2| in this chaffering, all including most farraginous chronicle! |2Astounding!2|
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|2Thou art all their daddies2| Artº drooping under thy toil, |2|abesoiled bemoileda|2| with butcher's bills at home and ingots (not thine!) in the countinghouse? Pshaw! |2I say I tell thee. He is a mule, a dead |aobese thing gasteropoda| |awithout vim or stamina,a| |anot worth a kreutzera| and she |aa an obesea| jennet with |awith a pandemonium of ills within her, |bmumps, bunions, enlarged glands, ringworm, Derbyshire neck, warts, bilious attacks, gall stones, cold feet,b|a| ague, palsy, boils, hemicrania, & what not. Dost envy old Darby |aNochilda| there with his Joan that have a canting parrot and a rheumy cur for blank |aVegetables, forsooth, and sterile cohabitation. Give her |bbleedingb| raw beefsteaks.a| Twenty years of it, regret them not. See that It was not with thee as with many who will and would and wait and never — do. Thou sawest thy goal & |awentst |bran didst charge to coverb|a| for it, head down like a bull |abisona| at a gate.2| A truce to threnes and |2trentals and2| jeremies |2and all congenital defunctive music2|! What sa |2Fear not, for every new And have no fear. For every new blank thou shalt gather a new homer of |amanna ripe wheata|. See, thy fleece is drenched.2| How saith Zarathusthra? Deine Kuh Trübsal melkest Du, nun trinkst Du die süsse Milch des Euters. See! It displodes |2in abundance2| for thee. Drink, man, an udderful! Mother's milk, Purefoy, the milk of human kin, milk too of those stars overhead, rutilant in thin rainvapour, punch milk, such as those rioters in the guzzling den there are quaffing, milk of madness, honeymilk of Canaan's land. Thy cow's dug was tough, what? Ay, but her milk is hot and sweet and fattening. To her, old patriarch. By Dea Partula and Pertunda, nunc est bibendum.

{Section X Epilogue: MS NLI.11F: U84 14.1440-1509}
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Allº off for a buster |2armstrong, halloring down the streetº2|. Where's the harm? Bonafides here. Timothy's of the battered naggin. Like old Billyo. Any brollies |2or gumboots2| in the family? Where the Henry Nevil's sawbones and old clo? Sorra one o me knows. Hurrah there, Dix! |2Forward to the ribbon counter.2| Where's Punch? All serene. Coming, so's Christmas. O, look at the drunken minister coming out of the maternity hospital. Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus, Pater et Filius. A make apiece, mister. The Denzille lane boys. Righto, Isaac, shove em out of the bleeding limelight. Hell, blast ye. Scoot. Mister, a make. You join us, |2dear2| sir. No hentrusion in life. Lou heap good man allee samee this bunch. En avant, mes enfants. Fire away, number one on the gun. Burke's! Burke's! Thence they advanced five parasangs. |2Psalm from the parson. Parson Steve, apostates' creed.2| Slattery's mounted foot. No, No, Mulligan! Shove ahead. Keep a watch on the clock. Chucking out time. |2Ma mère m'a mariée. Retamplan Digidi bom bom.2| |2Mulleygann! Mulley!2| |2Abaft there!2| |2What? |aWhatey? What's on you?a|2| British Beatitudes. |2Ay, ay. The ayes have it.2| |2|xTo be printed |a& bounda| at the druid press by two designing females in pissedon green calf. Last thing in art shades. Most beautiful book that has come out of Ireland.x|2| Silentium! Get a move on|2, eh2|! |2Spurt!2| Tention. Proceed to nearest canteen (beatitudes!) and there annex enemy's liquor. March! Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are (beatitudes!), amping. Beer, beef, business, bibles, bulldogs, battleships, buggery and bishops. Whether on the scaffold high. Beer, beef, trample the bibles, when for Ireland dear, trample the trampellers. Keep the |2durned2| millingtary step. Business, boosebox. |2Halt.2| Here we are again. |2Halt.2| |2No touch kicking. |aO Thunderationa|, my tootsies! Scrum in. Heave to!2|

Query. Who's standing this here do? I'm the proud possessor of |2four d one |adime one dime reda|2|. |2|aI declare misery.a| Beat to the ropes.2| Me nantee saltee. |2Not a |apenny reda| at me this week.2| Yours? Mead of our fathers for the Ubermensch. Ditto. Five number ones. You, sir? Ginger cordial. Chase me, the cabby's caudle. |2Stimulate the caloric2| Winding his ticker. Stopped short never to go again when the old. Absinthe, for me, savvy. |2Caramba, have an eggnog or prairie oyster.2| |2Look slippery. If you fall don't wait to get up.2| |2Time Clock2|, sir. My avuncular's got |2mine my timepiece2|. Ten to. Buckled, he is. Know his dona? |2Yup. Sartin I do.2| Digs up there near the Mater. |2None of your lean kine, not much.2| Full of a door, eh, Dix? |2Got a sting of a bumblebee in the epigastric region.2| See her in her dishybilly. |2|aStrips Peels offa| a credit.2| Pull down the blind, love. Two Ardilauns. Same here. Loop slippery. If you fall don't wait to get up. Five, seven, nine. |2That's right. Fine!2| Got a fine pair of |2mutton mince2| pies, no kid. What ho, she bumps! And her lay me to rests and her anker of rum. Must be seen to be believed. Your starving eyes and all beplastered neck you stole my heart, O gluepot. Well, doc, how's |2all the squaws2| in Lapland? Password. |2Papoose.2| There's hair. Stand and deliver. |2Woman body after going on the straw?2| |2Ours is the white death & the ruddy birth. Hi! D Spit in yr own eye, please.2| Hurroo! |2Collar the leather, young un.2| Round wi the nappy. Here, Jock's your barley bree. My tipple. Merci. Here's to us. |2|aWow! How's that?A| Leg before wicket there.2| Don't splash my new sit-in-ems. |2Give us a shake of pepper, young fellow. |aCatch aholt.a| Caraway seed here to carry away. Twig? Shrieks of silence. Pull2| Every cove to his gentry mort. Venus Pandemos. Les petites femmes. A bold bad girl from the town of Mullingar. Tell her I was axing at her. Hauding Sara by the wame. Mine? On the road to Malahide. Me? If she who seduced me had left but the name. |2What do you want for ninepence?2| Machree, Macruskeen. |2What do you want for ninepence?2| Smutty Moll for a mattress jig. |2Pull all together.2| Ex!

Waiting|2., governor?2| Bet your boots on. Stunned like seeing as how no shiners is acoming. He've got the chink. I seed near three pound on him |2a spell ago2| he said was hisn. |2We Us2| come right in on your invite, see. |2Up to you, matey.2| Out with the
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oof.º Two bar and a wing. You learn that go of them Frenchy bilks? Won't wash here for nuts. Lil child velly solly. Ise the most cutest coon down our side. God's truth, Charley. We are na fou. We're nae the fou. Thank you, sir.

'Tis, sure. |2Tight.2| What say? In the speakeasy. Tight? Bantam, the teetee. Garn! Have a glint, do. Well, I'm jiggered. |2How come you so?2| Too full for words. With a railway bloke. |2Opera he'd fancy? Rows of cast steel.2| Look at his flowers. Gemini, he's going to holler. The colleen bawn. My colleen bawn. O, cheese it. Shut his Dutch oven with a firm hand. Had the winner today till I tipped him a dead cert. The ruffin cly the nab of Stephen Hand as give me the |2blasted jady2| coppaleen. He strike a telegram boy, |2stable paddock2| wire |2big bug2| Bass to the depot. Shove him a joey and grahamise. Mare |2fit hot order2| on form. |2|xGuinea to a gooseberry.x|2| Tell a cram, that. Gospel true. Criminal diversion? |2I think that yes. Sure thing.2| Land him |2clever2| in chokey if the harman beck copped the game. |2Sure thing.2| O, lust, our refuge and our strength. |2He's Decamping2| off to mammy. |2Stand by.2| Hide my blushes, someone. |2I'm Duck2| all in if he spots me. Come a home, our Bantam. |2Horry war, mong vioo.2| Dinna forget the cowslips for hersel. Cornfide. Who tipped you |2Throwaway How did you spot that fancy2|? Of John Thomas, her spouse. No kid, |2young un Old man Leo2|. |2Pal to pal.2| Honest injun. Shiver my timbers if I had. Vel, I reckon, if that aint a sheeny nachez, vel, I vil get brigmeela. Though yerd, our lord, Amen.

You move a motion? Steve boy, you're going it some. |2Give's a breather2| Landlord, landlord have you good wine?, staboo? Hoots, mon, a wee drap to prie. Right. |2Cut & come again.2| Absinthes for the lot. Closing time, gents. Eh? Rome boose, for the gent. And snares of the poxfiend. Hi! Where's the buck and Tivy Bannon? Skunked? |2Jappies? High angles fire sunk em? |aMoya. Sunk by war correspondents. I'd be worse for him, says he, nor any Rooshian.a|2| Crikey, I'm about sprung. Tarnally dog gone my shins if this ain't the bestest puttiest |2chance long break2| yet. |2Say, curate, couple of cookies |athis way for this childa|. |aCot's plood |b& prandy pallsb|, none! Not a pite of sheeses?a|2| Thrust syphilis down to hell and with him those other wicked spirits. Time, gents. Who wander through the world. Health all! À la votre!

Golly. Who in tunket's |2this the guy2| in the mackintosh? |2Dusty Rhodes.2| What's he got? Jubilee mutton. Bovril, by James. Wants it real bad. D'ye ken bare socks? Seedy cuss in the Richmond? Rathere. Thought he had deposit of lead in his penis. Trumpery insanity. |2That was once a prosperous man.2| Bartle the bread we calls him. Tuck and turn in. Schedule time, gents. Nix for the |2polis hornies2|. Pardon? Seen him today at a runefal? Chum o yourn passed in his checks? Ludamassy! Thou'llt not |2say be saying2| so, Pold |2veg lad2|? Did ums |2weep blubber2| big splash crytears cos frien Padney was took off in black bag? Of all de darkies massa Pat was verra best bar none. Never see the like since I was born. Time all. |2There's 11 of them2| Get ye gone. Night. Night. Ware hawk for the chap puking. |2Bout ship2| Ioooka. Night. Ook.

Hark! Pflaap! Pflaap! Blaze on. There she goes. |2Brigade2| Mount street way. Cut up. |2Run Scoot2|. |2Tally ho2| Pflaaaap! You not come? Pflaap! Run, race, skelter, run.

Lynch, |2sign on ship long of me,2| with me. Denzille lane way. |2Change here for Bawdyhouse2| We two, she said, will seek
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theº kips where the lady Mary is. |2|xRighto, any old timex|2| Laetabuntur in cubilibus suis. You coming along? Whipser, |2who's who the sooty hell's2| this johnny hanging on to us in the black duds. |2He hath sinned Sinned2| against the light and now that day is even now at hand when he shall come to judge the world with fire. ut implerentur scripturae. Strike up a bawdy ballad.

|2|aThe one was Then outspakea| medical Dick
|aAnd the other was To his comradea| medical Davy
I'd swop my bloody big prick
For you with your buckets

2| Christicle, who's this |2yellow2| excrementitious gospeller on the Metropolitan hall? Elijah is coming. All washed in the blood of the lamb. Come on you winefizzling ginsizzling, booseguzzling existences! Come on you bullnecked, beetlebrowed, hogjowled, peanutbrained, weaseleyed fourflushers, false alarms and excess baggage! |2Come on, you triple extract of infamy!2| Alexander J Dowie's my name that's yanked most half |2the states to glory this planet to glory from Frisco beach to Vladivostock2|. |2You'll need to rise precious early, you sinner there, if you want to diddle the Almighty God. He's got an unpleasant |asurprise coughmixturea| for you, my friend, in his back pocket. Jes you try it on.2| Shout salvation in King Jesus. The Deity aint no |2two dime nickel2| bumshow. I put it to you that he's a |2business proposition on the square2| and a corking fine business proposition.