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(A Nymph, with hair unbound, lightly clad in teabrown ^|2artcolours^2|, ^|2appears near advances from her grotto & bends over^2| Bloom. She looks down at him with Marion Bloom's glances but softer.

^|2The ^|aTrees Yews^a|

(all their leaves whispering) Sister. Our sister. Ssh!^2|

The Nymph

(softly) Mortal! (he ^|2looks up tries to lift his head^2|) Mortal, you found me in the company of highkickers, ^|2coster^2| picnicmakers, pugilists, ^|2popular generals and immoral ^|awomen panto favourites^{a| |a}La Amora and Karini^a|2| on cheap paper that smelt of petroleum, surrounded by stale jokes of clubmen, pointless
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stories ^|2advertisements of transparencies and rubber goods^2| and allusions to disturb the mind of raw adults.

Bloom

You mean in Photo Bits?

Theº Nymph

Exactly. You bore me away and framed me in tinsel and placed me above your marriage couch.

Bloom

(tenderly) I did. Because you were beautiful, O immortal, and my eyes were glad to look upon you.
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^|2Theº Nymph

(hesitates) No? But you understood them?º^2|
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The Nymph

(covers her face with her hands) What have I not seen ^|2& heard^2| in that chamber? What must my eyes look down on? ^|2in the chamber of love.^2|

Bloom

(apologetically) I know. ^|2I quite understand.^2| The quoits are loose. ^|2Sleep reveals the worst aspect of everybody, children perhaps excepted. Steelwine is said to cure snoring. For the rest there is that English invention The Wonder Worker ^|athe pamphlet of which^a| which I received some days ^|ais claimed to afford a noiseless vent^a| (he sighs) ^|aSuch Perhaps^a| 'Twas ever thus. Frailty, thy name is marriage.^2| Soiled personal linen also. ^|2Wrong side up with care.^2| She, yes. And that ^|2absurd thing ^|aabsurd^a| porcelain utensil^2| which has only one handle.

The Nymph

(laughing coyly through half open fingers) Worse. Still worse.
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^|2Theº Yews

(rustling) She is right, our sister. Whisper. Who profaned our silent shade?º^2|
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^|2The Nymph

(mournfully) I never reached the age of cowhood. I ate those yewleaves and I died poisoned.º^2|
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^|2Theº Nymph

(assuming the form of ^|aan a poor^a| old ^|aqueen, woman,^a| a milkcan on her arm) To have seen what I have seen! (She assumes the form of a ^|aqueen^a| young and haughty ^|aqueen^a|) ^|aTo^a| See what I see! (she re assumes the form of a ^|ablue & white^a| madonna with joined hands and downcast eyes) A shame in my light.º^2|
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Bloom

(abjectly) Yes. Enemas I have administered. One third of a pint of infusion of quassia to which a tablespoonful of rock salt had been added. Yes. Also, I admit that I have paid homage too there where the back changes its name. ^|2Itº overpowers me. It is so characteristic of the female body. ^|aEven to sit where a woman has lately offers satisfaction^a|2|

The Nymph

(withdrawing her hands ^|2from her face slowly.^{2| |2}and reveals her face within the wimple of a nun^2|) But the face is the mirror of ^|2woman's ^|athe heart of woman with the female^a|2| soul, ^|2(low and softly) Tranquilla convent. Feast of Mount Carmel.^2| her tenderness, her love, her beauty. Mortals, gaze on me. ^|2Come. In my bower there is no desired, no desirer. Only beauty, love and tenderness ethereal^2|

Bloom

(starts ^|2violently to his feet at once^2|) You are no immortal. Be gone. ^|2Omelette without eggs.^2|

(The Nymph vanishes^|2). He calls after her)

I ^|bsaw see^b| your pruningknife too^|b,. Fair play,^b| madam. What? The fox and the grapes, is it?^a| We pay on the nail. ^|afor all we get.^a| The labourer is worthy of his stud fee.^2|