(frowns) Here. This isn't a |3musical3| peepshow. And don't smash that pianola.
(She goes to the piano. Stephen takes a handful of money from his pocket and selecting a note with difficulty hands it to her)
(with exaggerated politeness) |3I have made this silken purse out of the sow's ear of the public.3| Excuse me, if you allow me to (he indicates |3vaguely3| Lynch |3vaguely3| and Bloom) |3We are all in a row.3|
|3(to Stephen)3| Give us your blessing.
You have it.
Do you want three girls? That's thirty shillings.
(|3delightedly polite,3| hands her two crowns) Excuse me, my sight is troubled. |3|xRipped my coat somewhere.x|3|
|3Bella gathers the money. Zoe and Kitty lean over the table |apatting shoulderbladesa|3|
|3Lynch rises and clasps Kitty3|
(Strives to rise) Ow! My foot's asleep.3|
(advances |3and talks with Bella3|)
Bella, Zoe and, Kitty, Bloom, Lynch
|3(chattering |asquabbling round the tablea|)3| The gentleman … ten shillings …. Paying for the three … Allow me a moment … This gentleman pays separate …. Who's touching it? … We can arrange that … Ten for you … Mind who you're pinching! … Are you staying the night? … Who did? … You're a liar, excuse me … The gentleman paid like a gentleman … Drink … it's after eleven.
(turns, laughing) |3No bottles!3| A riddle.
(hises her gown & |3turns back her stocking3| folds a half sovereign in the top of her stocking) |3Hardearned. On the flat of my back.3|
|3Lynch carries Kitty from room |a& bumps her at doora|3|
|3The fox crew to the bells of heaven & The bells in heaven were striking eleven.3| 'tis time for this poor soul to go to heaven.
(lays a half sovereign on the table and takes up the pound note |3& indicates Lynch & Stephen3|) Ten & ten. For him and I pay myself. Ten and ten (he passes the half sovereign to Zoe & the two crowns to Kitty) We're square, what?
(Zoe claps her hands.
He's as deep as a draw well.3|
Lynch bends Kitty back and kisses her. Bloom goes with the pound note to Stephen)
This is yours.
(draws the money again from his pocket) How is that? |3Le distrait or the absentminded beggar.3| Doesn't matter a rambling damn.
|3An object falls to the ground.
(Stoops) |aSomething Thata| fell (He picks up matches)
|aYour matches. This.a|
(quietly) |3Why pay more?3| You had better hand that cash to me to take care of.
(hands it.) Be just before you are generous.
|3I will, but is it wise.3| (Counting) One. seven. eleven. and five., six., eleven. |3I don't answer for what you may have lost.3|
Why |3striking3| eleven? |3Thirsty fox3| The proparoxyton antepenultimate. Lessing says, the instant before |3it the next3| is. (he laughs loudly) The fox burying his mother. Probably he killed her.
(to Stephen) That is one pound six and eleven. 1/7, say.
No, but …
|3(Comes to the table)3| Cigarette, please. (he laughs) And so Georgina Johnson's gone. |3Dead and married.3|
It was a commercial traveller married her, named Lambe from London |a& took her away from Dublin with hima|.
Lamb of London who takest away the sins of the world.
(Chants deeply) Dona nobis pacem.3|
(Lynch tosses a cigarette on the table and matches. Stephen |3takes strikes3| a match |3and proceeds to light his cigarette3|)
(observing him) You would have a better chance of lighting it if you held the match nearer.
(brings the match near his eye) |3|aMust get glasses. I broke them yesterday. Sixteen years ago.a| Lynxeye.3| Distance. The eye sees all flat. (he brings the match away. It goes out) The Brain thinks near: far. Ineluctable modality of the visible. (the cigarette slips through his fingers)
(picks it up) Don't smoke. You ought to eat. Cursed dog I met. (to Zoe) You have nothing?
Is he hungry
|3|x(He makes an abrupt gesture and strikes his hand)x|3|
Hamlet! I am thy father's gimlet. Blue eyes beauty (she takes his hand). Florrie rises and comes to the table. All peer over, Lynch encircling Kitty's waist. Zoe points to his forehead) No wit, no wrinkles (she counts) Two three. Mars. That's for courage (Stephen shakes his head) No kid.
(sings) The youth who could not shiver and shake. Sheet lightning courage. Who taught you palmistry
(turning) Ask my ballocks that I haven't got. (to Stephen) I see it in your face. |3Like that.3| That look. The eye. Like that.
(slapping her behind |atwicea|) Like that. Pandybat.3|
(She frowns sternly. |3Loudly3| A pandybat cracks |3loudly3| twice. The top of the pianola flies open. The bald little round fluffy Jack in the box head of Father Dolan springs up)
|3Any boy want flogging3| Lazy idle little schemer. See it in your eyes.
(looks at his hand, nods) |3The haddock bears |ahis God'sa| criminal thumbmark.3| I never could decipher |3God's His3| handwriting. Continue. Lie. Hold me. Caress.
What day were you born?
Thursday's child has far to go. (tracing lines on his hand) |3Woman's hand.3| Line of Fate. Influential friends. Mount of the moon. Imagination. You'll meet with a …. (she peers at his hand: brusquely) I won't tell you what. Or do you want to know? |3What's not good for you3|
(detaches her fingers and offers his hand) More harm than good. Here. Read mine.
(takes his hand) Knobby knuckles for the women. Gridiron. Travels beyond the sea and marry money.
O, I see. Little finger short henpecked husband. That wrong?
(Black Liz, a huge |3cock hen3| roosting in a chalked circle, rises, stretching her wings and clucks)
Gara. Klook Klook Klook.
(She rises from her egg and waddles off)
(pointing to his hand) That ridge isº an accident. I fell and cut it |3sixteen 223| years ago. When I was twentytwo.
I see, says the blind man. Tell us news.
Twenty two. Moves to one great
(delighted) See. Moves to one great goal. I am twentytwo. Sixteen years ago he
years ago3| I
years ago3|. Twenty two years ago he fell
outº off his |3horse hobbyhorse3|. Moves to one great goal. (he winces) Hurt my hand somewhere
(Zoe whispers to Kitty. They giggle|3. Bloom releases his hand and writes idly |ain backhanda| on the table with finial curves slowly3|)
|3(A hackney car number blank |aa gallantbuttocked marea| driven by James Barton, Harmony avenue, Donnybrook The Ormond boots Blazes Boylan & Lenehan sprawl swaying on the sideseats. The Ormond Boots crouches behind. Sadly over the crossblind Lydia Douce and Mina Kennedy gaze.
(jogging, mocks them with thumb and blank fingers) Haw. Have you the? Haw haw have you the horn?
(they whisper bronze by gold)3|
(Blazes Boylan, a flashing straw hat set sideways, a red flower in his mouth, leans on mantelpiece. Lenehan, in yachting cap and white shoes, officiously detaches a long hair from his shoulder)
Ho! What do I here behold? Were you brushing the cobwebs off a few quims?
(smiles, sated) Plucking a turkey?
A good night's work.
(|3holding up four |a|bbluntungulated thickungulatedb|a| fingers,3| winks) Up to sample. or your money back.
Zoe and Kitty
(laughing together) Ha ha ha ha
Hee hee |3hee.3| |3(she whispers to Bella) Hee hee hee3|
Ho ho ho ho
(points to the mirror) Hu hu hu
(in dignified ventriloquy) 'Tis the loud laugh bespeaks the vacant mind. |3(to Bloom) You thought you were invisible. Gaze.3|
(smiles) Well. When |3you tell me, I know will I hear the joke3|.
When Before you're twice married and once a widower.
Even the great Napoleon. Measurements taken next the skin.x|3|
(The widow Dignam, |3her snubnose red3| her face flushed with talk, tunread tears and Tunny's tawny sherry, hurries |3past by3| in her weeds, her bonnet awry. Beneath her skirt appear her |3late3| husband's everyday trousers and turnedup boots, large eights. She holds |3insurance policy3| a large marquee umbrella under which her brood |3is huddled3|, Susie, Patsy, his collar loose, |3hopping on one shod foot3| Freddy, snivelling, Susy, with a crying cod's mouth, Alice unread |3tottering3| struggling with the baby. They She cuffs them on) her streamers flaunting aloft)
Ah, ma, you're dragging me along!
Ma ma, the beeftea is fizzing over.
None wed the second but who kill the first.
(Martin Cunningham's feature replace the features of Shakespeare. |3Mrs Dignam, swaying her umbrella The umbrella sways3| drunkenly, the children run aside. Mrs Cunningham in merry widow hat and kimono gown glides sidling and bowing), twirling japanesily)
(flatly) And they call me the jewel of Asia
(gazes on her impassive) Immense! A most bloody awful |3bitch |acharacter demirepa|3|!
What matter the horns. Queens |3lay3| with prize bulls
(restrains her) Let him alone. He's back from Paris.
Can you |aparlez parleyvooa| français?
(claps hat on head and leaps to the fireplace where he stands with shrugged shoulders, |afinny finshapeda| hands outspread, a painted smile on his face)
(sinks his head and rises his hands
Thousand places of entertainment
expenses yr evgs3|,
ladies saling gloves and other things perhaps hers heart, beer chops
very eccentric where lots cocottes beautiful dressed much about princesses like
are dancing cancan
parisian clowneries extra foolish for bachelors foreign. The same if talking a
poor english how much smart they are on thing's love and sensations
voluptuous. Misters very select for is pleasure must to visit heaven and hell
candles and silver
tears3| which occur
Perfectly shocking terrific of religion's things mockery seen in universal
womans squeal loud to see vampire man debauch nice
miss3| Ho là
là. Ce pif qu'il a!
back he laughs loudly, clapping
success of laughing. Angels much prostitutes like and holy apostles big damn
ruffians. Demimondaines nicely handsome sparkling of diamonds
veryº amiable costumed. Or do you areº fond better what belongs the modern's pleasure |3omelette on the belly3|? Caoutchouc |3statue3| womans reversible |3make concave convex3| besides very lifesize Tompeeptom of |3female virgins3| nudities |3very lesbic they kiss five six3|. Enter, gentleman, to see in mirror every positions trapezes — all that machine there also if desire act awfully bestial. I love you, sir darling. Speak you englishman tongue? |3Double entente cordiale3| O yes, mon loup. How much cost! Waterloo. Watercloset! |3(he halts and upholds a forefinger) Mark me. I dreamt of a |awatera| |aWater Malonea| melon. & a carpet red.3|
(claps her hands) Music! Dance! Meet and love a foreign lady and go abroad.
|3Foreign?3| Across the world for a wife?
Dreams goes by contraries.
(extends his arms) No, |3It was here |xin Mecklenburgh streetx|. Street of harlot. |aIn Serpentine Avenue Beelzebub showed me her — a fubsy widow.a|3| I flew. My foes beneath me. Now and world without end, Amen (he cries) Pater! free!º
(plucks his sleeve) Go easy!
(excitedly) Break my spirit, will he? |3|xO, merde alors! (he cries, his vulture talons sharpened)x|3| Holà! Hillyho! Ho, boy!
(Simon Dedalus' voice hilloes in answer)º
(|3The fronds and spaces of the wallpaper file past rapidly cross country. The fox, brush pointed, bounds runs swift through under the leaves.3| Theº crowd of dicers, crown and anchor players, thimbleriggers, broadsmen, crows and welshers, touts and bookies in high Welsh wizard hats bawl |3hoarse3| deafeningly)
Card of the races! Racing card!
Ten to one the field!
Tommy on the clay here! Tommy on the clay!
Two to one bar one! Two to one bar one!
Try your luck on spinning Jenny!
Two one bar one!
Sell the monkey, boys! Sell the monkey!
I'll give ten to one!
Ten to one bar one!
(A dark horse, unridden, bolts like a phantom past the winning post, his mane foaming, his eyeballs stars. The field follows, a bunch of bucking mounts, skeleton horses, Sceptre, Maximum II, Zinfandel, Duke of Beaufort's Ceylon, Duke of Westminster's Shotover, Repulse dwarfs in rusty armour leaping in their, in their saddles. Last in a drizzle of rain on a broken winded nag, honey cap, red jacket, orange sleeves, Garrett Deasy in the saddle, sprawls, gripping his mount's mane, a hockeystick at the ready. |3on spavined whitegaitered feet along the rocky road3|)
(jeering) Get down and push, mister. |3Last lap!3| You'll be home the night!
(sits bolt upright, brandishing his hockeystick, his blue eyes flashing in the prism of the chandelier) Per vias rectas!
(A yoke of buckets empties violently all over him |3& his rearing steed3| mutton broth with dancing coins of |3dishes souflés3| of carrots, onions, turnips, potatoes)
Soft day, sir John! Soft day, your honour!º
Our old friend noise in the street.x|3|
(claps her hands) Music! Music! A dance! |3(she runs to the pianola)3|
Who'll play? |3O, it's automatic.3|
(Professor |3Goodwin Goodwin's farewell appearance |aperiwigged & bowknota| |xin court wigx|3|, on |3shaky bones3| tottering totters across the room, in stained Inverness cape, bent in two, his grey hair and hands fluttering. He sits at on the pianostool. Zoe drops |3a 23| coin in the slot. White, Gold, pink, violet lights start forth. The drums turn. Professor Goodwin |3with damsel's grace3| lifts and beats handless sticks of arms on the keyboard)
(Professorº Maghinni between the curtains inserts a leg on the toepoint of which spins his silk hat. With a deft kick he sends it sideways to his crown and, sidewise hatted, enters. He wears a slate caftan frockcoat with claret silk lapels, a gorget of cream tulle, a green lowcut waistcoat, stock collar, with white kerchief, lil tight lavender trousers, patent pumps and canary gloves. In his buttonhole he has an immense dahlia. |3He twirls a clouded cane |ain two directionsa| then wedges it in his oxter.3| He places a hand lightly on his breastbone & bows
his aster and his
buttons)3| The poetry
of motion, the art of calisthenics. No connection withº
Madameº Legget Byrne's or Levinstone's. Fancy dress balls arranged. Deportment. The Katty Lanner step. So! Watch me! My Terpsichorean abilities. (he minuets forward |33 paces3| on tripping bee's feet and claps noiseless gloved hands) Tout le monde en avant! Reverence! Tout le monde en place!
(Professor Goodwin, beating ineffectual arms, shrivels, sinks, his |3Inverness live3| cape falling about the stool. unread music sounds with varying white, gold, rosy, violet light. From a corner, from the south, the morning hours run out goldhaired, slimsandalled, |3girlish, wasp waisted, innocent |aof with lockeda| hand,3| in robes of blue, agile with skipping ropes. The hours of noon follow in amber gold |3laughing. Laughing, linked,3| high haircombs flashing, they catch the dancing sun in metal mirrors, lifting their arms)
|3|xStephen's foot beats ground in tripudiumx|3|
(clipclaps glovesilent hands) Carré! Avant deux! Balancé! Breathe evenly!
(The morning and noonday hours waltz in their places, turning, advance to each other, shaping their curves, bowing visavis. Cavaliers behind them arch and suspend their arms |3hands on their shoulders3|)
You may touch my
May I touch your?
O, but lightly!
(The twilight hours advance, dispersed, lagging, languideyed, their cheeks delicate with cipria and false faint bloom) They are in grey gauze with darker(xx) bat sleeves |3that flutter in the landbreeze3|.
Avant huit! Traversé. Salut! Cours de mains! Croisé.
(The night hours, one by one, steal to the last place. |3The morning, noon and evening hours retreat before them.3| Black with daggered hair, masked. Each has a bracelet of dull bells. Fatiguedº they curchycurchy under veils)
Les Tiroirs! Chaine de dames! La corbeille! Dos à dos!
(arabesquing, they weave a pattern on the floor, weaving, unweaving, curtseying, twirling, simply swirling)
Boulangère! Les Ronds! Les Ponts! |3Chevaux de bois3| Escargots!
(Twining, receding, with interchanging hands, they link each each with arching arms in a mosaic of movement.
Dansez avec vos dames! Changez de dames! Donnez le petit bouquet à votre dame! Remerciez!
(Theyº leap forward. Veils fall, O flowers! Bells with bells with bells.) Stephen |3|xhis mouth shutx|3| whirls giddily. Stops. The room whirls back. Eyes closed, he totters. Red rails fly spaceward. Stars all around suns turn about, bright midges dancing on the walls. A screaming bittern's harsh high whistle. Groan grousegurgling Toft's cumbersome whirligig turns slowly the room rightroundabout the room. Baraabum!
My girl's a Yorkshire girl
Yorkshire through and through!
(With clang, tinkle, boomhammer, tallyho hornblowers blue, bl green, yellow flashes Toft's cumbersome turns with hobbyhorseriders from gilded snakes dangled)
she's a chamption Though she's a
And wears no fancy clothes
(Closeclutched swift swifter with glareblareflare scudding they scootlootshoot clambering by.) Baraabum! Bis!
Dance of deathx|3|
(Bang fresh barang bang of lacquey's bell, horse, nags,
steers, piglings, Conmee on Christass, lame crutch and leg sailor in cockboat
armfolded ropepulling hitching, stamp hornpipe through and through. Baraabum! On
nags, hogs, bellhorses, Gadarene swine. Corny in coffin steel shark
onehandled Nelson, two trickies
plumstained, from pramfalling, bawling, gum he's a champion. Fuseblue peer
from barrel rev. evensong Love on hackney jaunt Blazes blind coddoubled
bicyclers Dilly with snow cake, no fancy clothes. Then in last
lumbering up and down bump mashtub sort of
viceroyº and reine relish for tublumber bumpshire rose. Baraabum! |3Leap forward. Veils fall! O flowers, bells with bells. Swirling giddily. Stops. Room whirls back. Eyes closed he totters. Red rails fly spacewards. Stars all around suns turns about bright midges dancing on walls.3|
Stephen'sº mother |3emaciated,3| rises stark through the floor. She is in |3leper's3| grey, her face worn and green with gravemould. Her hair is scant and straight. She fixes her bluecircled hollow eyesockets on Stephen). Buck Mulligan in particoloured jester's dress of puce and yellow, clown's cap with curling bell, stands gaping at her, a smoking scone in his hand.
|3The choir of virgins and confessors sing voicelessly
(his eyes on the scone) The pity of it! (he upturns his eyes) Mulligan meets the afflicted mother.
I was once the beautiful May Goulding. I am dead.
(horrorstricken) Lemur! |3Who are you?3| No! What bogeyman's trick is this?
More women than men in the world. All must go through it, Stephen. You too. Time will come.
(choking with fright and remorse) They say I killed you, mother, I. Cancer did it, not I. Destiny. Chance. |3He offended your memory.3|
(a green rill of trickling from a side of her mouth) And you sang that music to me. Love's bitter mystery
|3(eagerly)3| Tell me the word, mother, if you know |3now3|. The word known to all men.
Who saved you the night you jumped into the train at Dalkey |3with Paddy Lee3|? Who had pity for you when you were sad among the strangers? Prayer is allpowerful. Prayer for the suffering souls and forty days indulgence. Repent, Stephen.
(bitterly) |3The corpsechewer. Ghoul!3|
I pray for you in my other world. |3|xGet Dilly to make you that boiled rice every night after your |astudies brainworka|.x|3| Years and years I loved you when you lay in my womb.
The corpsechewer! Raw head and bloody bones
(with smouldering eyes |3her face drawing near and nearer) sending out an ashen breath) her blackened withering arm uplifted3|) Beware! (she raises her |3right hand blackened withered right arm3| slowly towards Stephen's breast with outstretched finger) Beware God's hand!
(Aº green crab with malignant red eyes sticks deep its grinning claws in Stephen's heart)
(Voiceless with rage) Shite for Him!
(wrings her hands slowly, moaning desperately) O, Sacred Heart of Jesus have mercy on him! Save him |3from Hell, O divine3|, Sacred Heart! Have mercy on Stephen, Lord, for my sake. Inexpressible was my anguish when expiring with love grief and agony of Mount Calvary.
|3|aBreak my spirit, you and he, no, nor your will you?a| Ah non, par exemple. The intellectual imagination3| Nothung!
(He seizes his ashplant and raising it high in both hands smashes the chandelier. Darkness. Time's livid final flame leaps and |3in the following3| darkness, ruin of all space, shattered glass and toppling masonry. A stampede follows)
(seizes Stephen's hand) Here. Hold on. Don't run amok!
(abandoning his ashplant |3With head thrown and arms stark behind him3|) he rushes from the |3floor room3|. |3Bella screams.3|
(Lynch and Kitty rush out. Bloom follows, Zoe at his heels.
|3|xHe tore his coat
Lynch Kitty Zoe and Bloom talk excitedly with the whores at the thresholdx|3|
(angrily) Who pays for the lamp? (she seizes |3Bloom Bloom's coattail3|) Here, you were withº him? The lamp's broken.
(pointing) There. There's something up.
(pointing) Down there!
(Kitty and Lynch run outx|3|
(impatiently) What lamp, woman (to Zoe) Wait (He hurries back to the room
(points) Have to pay for that. Fifteen shillings. You're a witness.
(snatches up Stephen's ashplant) Fifteen shillings! Me! Haven't you taken enough off him? Didn't he ….?
(loudly |3her eyes hard with anger & cupidity3|) Here, none of your tall talk. This isn't a brothel. |310/- house.3|
(his head under the lamp, pulls the chain. The gas lights up, puling, a crushed mauve purple shade) Only the chimney's broken. (he raises the ashplant) Like this! Here is what he ….
(screams |3& shrinks back |awarding off a blowa|3|) Jesus! Don't
To show you how he hit the paper. |3(he lowers the stick)3| There's not sixpenceworth of damage. done. Fifteen shillings!
Do you want me to call the police
|3|xNephew of / the vicechancellor / Masonic sign / grand master / gent. pay rent / patrons of yr establishment / Mrs Cohen's son / LB threatensx|3|
|aI unread their room for their company,a| Coming down here ragging after the boatrace.x|3|
(in the doorway, excitedly) There's something up.
What? (he throws a shilling on the table |3& starts3|) That's for the chimney (Zoe follows) Where? (He hurries through the hall. The whores point. An outside car coming down the street, halts at the door. |3|aThe Corny Kelleher and twoa| men alight3| Bella, following through the hall with Florrie, whispers to Zoe at the door. The whores and Zoe blow kisses. Waiting. Bloom rushes |3out sees the car, draws his cailiph's hood |a& ponchoa| Haroun al Raschid. With fleet step of a pard he —3| down the street, his face sideways, the ashplant marking his stride). He reaches the corner of Beaver street. A noisy cro knot stands at the corner, Private Carr, Private Compton, Cissy Caffrey and roughs)
(with elaborate gestures,) Well, you are my uninvited guests in virtue of the fifth of George or the seventh ofº Edward. It seems history to blame, fabled by the daughters of memory.
(to Cissy Caffrey) Was he insulting you?
Insult? I addressed her as in the vocative feminine whereas she is probably neuter ungenitive.
(to the crowd) I was with the soldier here and he left me to do, you know, and the young man comes up behind me saying —- |3No, I says. |afaithfula| Though I'm only a |ashillinga| whore (moral)3|
(catches sight of Lynch) points to himself and the others) Hail, Sisyphus! The poetic and the uropoetic.
Yes, to go with him. And me with a soldier friend.
Stephen Private Compton
He doesn't half want a thick ear |3the blighter3|. Biff him one, Harry.
(gentleman poet, in Union Jack blazer and |3cricket3| flannels, bareheaded, flowingbearded) There's not to reason why. |3(he shakes the hands of both privates) Kind hearts and more than coronets.3|
(to private Compton) You are quite right, I don't know your name. I mean the uniform is right can't be wrong. For then no-one is guilty and as Doctor Swift says, one man in armour will beat ten men in their shirts. |3|xWrite it. You have access to pen ink & paper.x|3|
(to the crowd, questioning him) No, I was with the soldier.
(laughs) |3The Your3| bold soldier boy.
(looks up to the sky) How? Unpleasant,
I suppose. I
never learnt the noble art of self pretence. Personally,
Iº detest action. (he waves his hand)
hurts me slightly3| Enfin, ce sont vos oignons?
(toº Cissy Caffrey) What exactly is the trouble or who precisely is he? I'm somewhat le distrait or the absentminded beggar. |3My weakness.3|
(from her balcony waves her handkerchief) Cook's son, goodbye. Safe home to Dolly. Dream of the girl you left behind and she will dream of you.
(The soldiers turn their swimming eyes)
(elbowing through the crowd, plucks Stephen's sleeve |3vigorously3|) Come |3now, professor,3| that carman is waiting.
(turning) Eh? (disengaging himself) Why should I not speak to him or to any human being who walks upright upon this orange? (he points his finger) I'm not afraid of what I can talk to. Retaining the perpendicular … (he staggers a pace back)
(propping him) Retain your own.
(laughs emptily) Quite right. My centre of gravity is displaced. I have forgotten the trick. Let us sit down somewhere and discuss. Struggle is the law of life but human beings, notably the Czar and the King of England, have invented arbitration.
|3|aA Whore Biddy Herringsa|
Did you hear that. |aWhat the professor said. He's a professor.a| Such refinement of repartee.
|aA Whore Cunty Katea|
I did. I heard that. And at the same time remarkably trenchant.
|aA Whore blanka|
He expresses himself with such refinement of phrase.
Yes. And at the same time so trenchantly.3|
(pulls himself free and comes forward) What's that you say about my king.
(In the archway king Edward the Seventh appears, levitated, robed as a master mason with trowel and apron |3|x|amarked Made in Germanya| a plasterer's bucket in his left handx|3| |3and jersey on which the image of the Sacred Heart is stitched3| |3sucking3| a red jujube |3in his mouth3|).
Edward the Seventh
(slowly, solemnly |3and but3| indistinctly) Peace,º perfect peace. |3For identification. Bucket in my hand.3| (to the soldiers, with a wink |3lifting his bucket3|) Cheerio, boys |3We have come to see a straight fight and we wish both men the best of luck. (he shakes hands with private Carr, private Compton, Stephen, Lynch and Bloom |aGeneral applause. He lifts up his bucket in acknowledgmenta|)3|
(nervous, friendly, pulling himself up) I understand though I have no king. It is the age of patent medicines.
Edward the Seventh
(in the garb, halo of joking Jesus, a white jujube in his phosphorescent face)
My methods are new and are causing surprise
To make the blind see I throw dust in their eyes.
Eh, |3Harry,3| Stick one into Jerry. Give him a kick in the knackers.
(to the privates, softly) He doesn't know what he's saying. Taken |3a little3| more than is good for him. |3Upset his mental balance. Absinthe, that greeneyed monster.3| I know him. He's a student, a gentleman, a poet.
And judge of malt.3|
I don't give a bugger who he is.
We don't give a bugger who he is.
I |3really3| seem to annoy him. Green rag to a bull.
(Kevin Egan of Paris, in black Spanish tasselled shirt and peep-o'-dayboy's hat stands & signs to Stephen)
Hlò, bonjour! (he laughs vacantly) The vieille ogresse with the dents jaunes.
|3Patrice Egan peeps from behind him, his rabbitface nibbling a leaf
Come home. You don't know. |3They'll get you intoº trouble.3|
(swaying) Allow me.
Here, what are you saying about my king?
Nothing till he wants my money and my life. Want must be his master. I gave it somebody just …
Who wants your bleeding money?
(tries to move off) Will someone inform me in what part of the world I am least likely to meet |3these people these necessary evils3|. Ça se voit à Paris aussi. Not that I have any objection |3 … but, by Saint Patrick3|
|3(The heads of the women coalesce.3|
(Old Gummy Granny in sugarloaf witch hat, a milkcan on her arm, appears seated on a toadstool)
I know you. Hamlet, revenge. Sow that eats her farrow.
Old Gummy Granny
(rocking to and fro, mumbles) Ireland's sweetheart, alanna. The strangers in my house |3(She wails with banshee woe)º Ochone!3|
The hat trick! Where's the third person of the trinity? Soggarth Aroon!x|3|
(tugs at his belt violently) I'll wring the neck of any
fucker says a word against my fucking king.º
(terrified) He said nothing. Not a word. A pure misunderstanding.
Go it, Harry. Do him one in the eye. He's |3Irish an Irish pro-boer3|.
We fought for you in South Africa. The Irish missile troops. |3Isn't that history?3| Royal Dublin Fusiliers.
(Major Tweedy, |3largemoustached turkmoustached3|, in |3bearskin cap & hackle plume |awith epaulettes, gilt chevrons & sabretaches,a|3| full dress, his breast bright with good conduct badges, growls gruffly) Rorke's Drift. Up guards and at them! |3Casqued Halberdiers in armour thrust forward gutted spearpoints3|
I'll do him in.
(moves the crowd back) Fair play, here. Make a bleeding butcher's shop of |3him the bugger3|.
(loosening his belt, shouts) I'll wring the bleeding neck of any fucking bastard says a word against my bleeding fucking king.
Speak, you. Are you |astrucka| dumb?3|
(in alarm, seizes his arm) Amn't I with you? Amn't I your girl? Cissy's your girl (she cries) Police!
harlot's cry from street to street
Shall weave old Ireland's windingsheet.3|
(with ferocious articulation) I'll do him in, so help me fucking Christ! I'llº wring the bastard fucker's bleeding blasted fucking windpipe.
(to Lynch) Can't you get him away?
He likes dialectic. (to Kitty) Come
(They go away) Car?
(points) Exit Judas. Et laqueo se suspendit.3|
(to Stephen) Come along with me now before worse …
(pulling Private Carr) Come on|3., will you?3| He insulted me but I forgive him. (shouting in his ear) I forgive him for insulting me.
(over Stephen's shoulder) Yes, go. You see he's incapable3|
(breaks loose). I'll insult him.
(He rushes towards Stephen, wit fist outstretched, and strikes him in the face. Stephen |3falls totters, |aquietlya| collapses3|, his hat rolling to the wall |3Bloom follows & picks it up3|
(loudly) Carbine in bucket! Cease fire! Salute!3|
Let him up! Don't strike him when he's down! Air! Who? The soldier hit him. Who is he? He's a student. Is he hurted? |3Don't manhandle him3| He's fainted.
|3|aA Whore The |bProcuress Hagb|a|
What call had the |asoldier redcoata| to strike him? And the gentleman under the influence. Up the Boers and De Wet
A Shawled Aged Whore
Listen to who's talking! Redcoats! Hasn't the soldier a right to go with his girl.3|
(shoves them back loudly) Get back, stand back
(tugging his comrade) Here, bugger off, Harry. Here's the cops.
(Two raincaped watch, tall, stand in the group)º
What's wrong here?
We were with this lady. And he insults us. And assaulted my chum.
(with expectation) Is he |3dead bleeding3|?
(rises from his knees) |3No.3| Gone off. He'll come to all right.
(glances sharply at the man) Leave him to me, please (to the watch) I can explain this matter
Who are you? Do you know him?
(lurches towards the watch) He insulted my lady friend.
You hit him without provocation. I'm a witness. Constable, take his regimental number.
I don't want none of your instructions.
(pulling) Here, shove along or Bennett'll shove you in the lock up.
(staggering as he is pulled away) God fuck old Bennett! He's a whitearsed bugger! I don't give a shit for him!
(takes out his notebook) What's his name.
(peering over the crowd) I just see a car there. If you give me a hand a second ….
Name and address
(Corny Kelleher |3(weepers round his hat)3| appears in the ring of bystanders)
(quickly) O, the very man (he whispers) Simon Dedalus' son. A bit sprung. Get those policemen to move those loafers back.
Night, Mr Kelleher.
|3(Corny Kelleher speaks3|
to the watch.
That's all right. I know him. Won a bit on the races. |3Gold cup.3| (he laughs)
(turning to the crowd) Here, what are you all gaping at? Move on out of that.
(The crowd disperses slowly |3down the lane3|, muttering)
That's all right, sergeant. You leave it to me |3& my friend3|. (with a drooping eye, he laughs) We were often as bad ourselves or worse. What, eh?
(laughs) I suppose so
(nudges the second watch) Come and wipe your name off the slate, what, eh, do you follow me?
(genially) Ah, sure we were too.
|3(winking)3| That'll be all right.
All right, Mr Kelleher. Good night.
I'll see to that.
(shaking hands with the policemen in turns) Thank you very much. |3Thank you3| (he mumbles confidentially) We don't want any scandal. Father is a wellknown citizen. Just a little wild oats, you understand.
That's all right, sir.
(to Bloom) It was only in case of corporal injuries I'd have to report it |3at the station3|.
(nods rapidly) Naturally. I quite understand.
Good night, men.
(saluting together) Good night.
(They move off.)
It was providential you came on the scene.
(laughs) Two commercials that were standing fizz in
wanted to have a go
withº the girls. So we drove down to to nighttown. And sure they wanted me to join in |3with the mots3|. But that's not for old |3stagers cocks3| like me and yourself (he laughs |3with lacklustre eye3| drooping) We have it in the house, eh, what? |3Do you follow me?3|
(laughs) Ha, he, he. Yes. Matter of fact, I was just passing down Buckingham street there |3visiting an old friend of mine, Virag, you don't know him I think |aand we had a liquour together and a chat and was just making my way homea|3| and I happened to see a crowd
|3(The horse neighs)3|
Sure it was the jarvey, there, told me and I got off to see. Will I give him a lift home? Where does he live? Somewhere in Cabra, what?º
No, he lives in Sandycove, I believe. From what he said.
Sandycove! (he bends down |3calls3|) Eh? (he calls again) He's covered with shavings anyhow. Take care they didn't lift anything off him.
No, no, no. I have his money. And his hat |3here3| and his stick.
Ah, well, he'll get over it. No bones broken. Well, I'll get along. (he laughs) On the job tomorrow. |3Burying the dead.3| Night. Safe home! |3(he nods towards the jarvey) He's on the job too |afor a mourning coacha|. Sober man.3| Night. Safe home.
(Corny Kelleher goes to the car and mounts it. The jarvey whips the horse. The horse harness jingles)
(from the car) Night.
(|3|xRounding the cornerx| The carman raises his whip encouragingly. Corny Kelleher sways his head heavily to and fro in sign of mirth |a& despair |bat his plightb|a|. Bloom replies in the same manner |athat what else is to be donea|. |aJarvey joins in the mutemerriment, nodding to his |bnag horseb|.a| |xCorny makes letter in airx| Corny Kelleher reassures with thumb and palm that the two constables have been will allow the sleep to continue. Bloom with a slow nod conveys his gratitude as that was exactly what Stephen needs.3| The car jingles away. The jingling harness is heard. The jingling grows fainter. Bloom, holding Stephen's muddied hat and ashplant, stands irresolute. He bends towardsº Stephen and shakes him lightly by the shoulder)
|3Mr Dedalus! Eh! Ho!3| (There is no answer. He bends more.) Mr Dedalus! (There is no answer. |3(he reflects) The name if you call, somnambulist.3| |3Bending more,3| Hesitatingly he places his mouth nearer the prostrate figure) Stephen! (There is no answer. He calls more loudly) Stephen!
Panthera|3| (he sighs
himself) he murmurs
Will go drive with Fergus now
Will go drive with Fergus now
And pierce the |3deep wood's Vampire's3| … (he turns on his left side, doubling together)
(|3|xHe opens SD's collar & waistcoatx|3| brushes the woodshavings from Stephen's clothes with light hand and fingers). He murmurs) £1-16-7. Air will do him good. Poet, of course.
(Stephen sighs long, curling his body. Bloom, holding the muddied hat and ashplant, stands erect. A dog bays in the distance. Bloom tightens and relaxes his grip on the ashplant.) He looks down on Stephen's form)
(murmurs) The deep wood's shadow … |3Black vampire3| |3And3| The |3dim white3| breast. Ferguson, he said, some girl he … (He looks down, silent, on guard).