{ms, 001}

(^|1Faithful Place, Night town.^{1| |1}rows Rows^1| of grimy houses with gaping doors. ^|1Rare smoky lamps.^1| Little men and women squabble for ices round a halted gondola. They receive wafers between which are wedged c lumps of coral and coppery snow. The little men and women scatter slowly, sucking ^|1up^1| the melting coloured snow. They are children. The high reared comb of the gondola pushes on through the dark, passing under the lamplight, white and blue. Whistles are heard in the distance ^|1call calling and answering: Wait, my loves, and I'll be with you^1|. On a step a ragpicker crouches to shoulder a sack. A ^|1hag crone^1| standing by with a guttering oillamp rams a last bottle in the neck of his sack. He shoulders it and lurches off mutely, tugging his peaked cap askew on his eyes. The hag goes back into her lair swaying her lamp. A ^|1|abowlegged bandylegged^a|1| child asquat on the doorstep with a paper shuttlecock ^|1scrambles up to clutch her skirt crawls ^|asidling^a| after her c in jerks and, clutching her skirt scrambles upº^1|. A drunken navvy holds grips with both hands the railings of an area, swaying heavily to and fro. At a corner two night patrols, in ^|1body shoulder^1| capes, stand tall and silent ^|1their hands at rest on their staff holsters^1|. A plate is heard to crash: a woman's scream follows. Figures, male and female, continue to pass through the murk, round corners, into doorways. In an openwindowed room, lit by a candle stuck in a bottleneck, ^|1two sluts a slut^1| combs the natts out of another slut's hair. Heads are thrust out of windows to listen. A child is heard crying. The oaths of a man are roared out indistinctly. They die away. A girl's voice sings out, high ^|1and hoarse, still young^1|, from a lane:

I gave it to ^|1Kitty Molly^1|
Because she was ^|1pretty jolly^1|
The leg of the duck
The leg of the duck,
{ms, 002}

^|1Three Two^1| redcoats, swaggersticks ^|1held tight^1| in their oxters, turn about and towards the voice and, without halting, emit in chorus a loud fart from their mouths. Laughter of men in the lane. A ^|1woman hoarse hag^1| calls:

— Signs on you, dirtyarse. ^|1More power, the Kildare girl.^1|

The redcoats, turn as before and reply. They march on. The girl's voice rises higher:

I gave it to Nelly
To stick in her belly
The leg of the duck
The leg of the duck.

The redcoats halt ^|1with beside^1| the patrol and talk. ^|1Their tunics are bloodbright near the lamp, their blond heads closecropped, their biscuit caps set on the side lobes are round ballsockets.^1| A girl with hair on the wind rushes across the street, ^|1her shawl^1| flapping from her arms. She shrieks., laughing, rushing and is engulfed in a doorway. A burly navvy ^|1follows pursues her^1| with long strides. He stumbles on the steps but recovers and plunges into the doorway after her. Weaker shrieks of laughter are heard: they stop. A young man in a black with a wide hat, pointing ahead with a flourish of his stick, passes through the figures, talking. A broader young man wearing a jockey cap walks beside him,. A sneer of disconcent is seen on his beaked face. An elderly woman ^|1seated on a doorstep lolled against a doorframe^1| looks ^|1up out^1| as they pass and calls ^|1in a discreet whisper^1|.

^|1— ^|aSst! ^|x(wait)^{x| |b}Come here till I tell you^b|a| Maidenhead inside. Sst!^1|

They pass on, unseeing. She calls after them:

— Trinity medicals. Fallopian tube

Still unheeded she spits. A redhaired girl seated with a friend on a doorstep ^|1draws her shawl rapidly across her nostrils as she relates:^1| narrates rapidly:

— And says the one: I seen you ^|1Faithful place^1| with your squarepusher in ^|1Faithful place the come-to-bed hat^1|. ^|1Did you? That's not for you to say,^1| says I.
{ms, 003}
You never seen me in the mantrap with a highlander, says I. And her walking with two fellows the one time.

Lynch

So that?

Stephen

So that the ^|1art of^1| gesture renders visible not the lay sense but the first formal rhythm. Who wants a gesture to illustrate a loaf?, a jug? This movement illustrates ^|1Thou and^1| the loaf ^|1of abread^1| and jug of ^|1wine ^|awine and thou bread, or wine, I mean,^a|1| in Omar. Hold my stick. He

Lynch

Damn your ^|1yellow^1| stick.

Stephen gives the stick quickly and slowly holds out his hands, his head going back till both hands are a span or so from his breast, downturned in the planes at an angle, the fingers at about to open, the left hand being higher.

Lynch

Damn jugs and loaves. Which is the jug ^|1of bread^1|? Illustrate Thou. Here take your stick.

They pass out of sight. A barefoot urchin scrambles to a street c lamp and ^|1clasping^1| climbs it in jerks. From the top he slides down to his ring of urchin friends. Another starts to climb. The navvy, leaving hold of the railings, lurches against the lamp. The urchin slides down: all scuttle off in the darkness. The navvy, swaying, presses a forefinger against a wing of his nose. Swaying, he ejects from the other nostril
{ms, 004}
a ^|1long dribbling^1| jet of snot.

Bloom comes round the corner hastily and stops. In ^|1one each^1| hand he has a ^|1lukewarm^1| paper parcel^|1, one^1| containing a ^|1lukewarm^1| pig's crubeen and a ^|1cold^1| sheep's trotter sprinkled with wholepepper, the other two slices of quartern loaf and a tablet of Fry's chocolate. He frowns slightly and hesitates. A stooped bearded figure appears beside him, in horned spectacles, dressed in a long caftan with ^|1embroidered with dog's heads^1| and wearing a smoking cap with crimson tassel.

Rudolph ^|1Bloom^1|

Half a crown wasted. I told you not go with drunken goys ever.

Bloom

I know.

He looks down, conscious of error, feeling through the paper a warm crubeen and a cold trotter.

Rudolph ^|1Bloom^1|

^|1What are you doing?^1| Are you ^|1not^1| my son ^|1Leopold^1|?

Bloom

Yes, father.

^|1Rudolph

Bloom looks down at his clothes and bestows the chocolate & bread in a sidepocket.^1|

A handsome woman in ^|1scarlet^1| Turkish trou costume stands before him. Her opulent curves fill ^|1out^1| her ^|1scarlet^1| trousers and jacket. A ^|1violet white^1| yashmak ^|1violet in the night^1|, covers her face and hair leaving free only her large dark eyes.

Marion Bloom

Poldy!
{ms, 005}

He breathes in deep agitation, wavering. Questions ^|1rise throng^1| to his lips: He swallows them down. He wishes to ^|1fall down at sink to the ground at near^1| her slippers. He wishes to tell her that he bought the crubeen, the trotter, the bread, and the chocolate for her supper. He wishes and unwishes, is cold warm, then cold, knows then knows not, before her stands helpless, ^|1facinated spellbound^1| by her eyes and dress. ^|1Beneath her turreted turban a coin gleams on her brow. Her anklets are linked together by a fetterchain. Beside her a camel waits, with hood and palanquin, a ladder of countless steps reaching to his hump.^1| unread ^|1A dark slow friendly mockery steals into her eyes.^1|

Mar

Marion Bloom

Poldy!

Bloom

Yes.

Marion

Ti trema un poco il core?

She ^|1turns saunters^1| away in disdain. He follows ^|1following followed by a sniffing terrier^1|. She is gone. The elderly woman seizes his sleeve. Instinctively he tightens his grip on the crubeen and trotter. The woman pours into his ear a fetid husky message.

— Ten shillings a maidenhead. Fresh thing that was never touched. Fifteen.

Her mouldy sweat promises ^|1secret^1| obscenities. She indicates the doorway. He looks. In the dark hall ^|1furtive, rainbedraggled,^1| Bridie Kelly stands ^|1and beckons. She calls to him:^1|

— ^|1Are you game? Any good in your mind?^1|

He thinks of giving the crubeen and trotter to the procuress. Gertie MacDowell limps to his side. Leering, she ^|1draws from behind her^1| shows him coyly ^|1a bloody something. It is a bloodied^1| clout. She whispers:

— You did that.
{ms, 006}

Bloom

There is some mistake. I? When?

Gertie

^|1(pawing his coat)^1| Dirty ^|1married^1| man. I love you. for ^|1doing^1| that.

The ^|1Woman Procuress^1|

^|1(hurriedly)^1| Fifteen. Come. ^|1Don't be all night. You won't get a virgin in the flash houses^1| The polis will see us. ^|167 33^1| is a bitch.

Mrs Breen stands in the middle of the street. She ^|1throws^1| opens her mouth, eyes and arms, astonished.

Mrs Breen

You down here? ^|1O,^1| Wait till I see Molly.

Bloom

(confused) ^|1How do you do?^1| It's a short cut home. I just was buying something for supper. Very good place round there for hot pigs' feet. ^|1Best value in Dublin.^{1| |1}Feel how hot.^1|

^|1Richie G. stands by weighted with the ^|ablack^a| legal bag of Colles & Ward on which a skull & crossbones are painted in limewash. He opens it and shows it full of white puddings, kippered herring

Best value in Dublin^1|

Mrs Breen

(Shouts with laughter) ^|1Glory Alice!^{1| |1}Well, you You^1| do look absurd! a holy show. O, you ruck! ^|1You should see yourself^1|

Bloom

(Cautiously) Don't attract the attention of these people. I want to tell you a little secret about how I came here. But between ourselves. ^|1You must never tell^1| Not even Molly. ^|1I have special reason.^1|

Mrs Breen

O, not for worlds. Tell me.

He shakes himself free from the procuress and walks on with Mrs Breen^|1, followed by the sniffing dog^1|. ^|1The dog slinks at their heels, sniffing.^1|

Bloom

(mysteriously) Do you remember a long long time ago when ^|1just after Milly was weaned^1| we all went to Fairyhouse races ^|1when Molly won seven shillings on a horse named Nevertell^1| and coming
{ms, 007}
home in the ^|1break wagonette^1| you were sitting beside me ^|1and you wore that a new hat Denis had ^|ajust^a| bought you and that didn't become you at all as m well as the missing toque^1| and Molly was eating a sandwich of spiced beef ^|1out of Mrs Joe Gallagher's basket and laughing because Paul Rogerson ^|a& Maggot O'Reilly^a| was mimicking the cock as we passed a farmhouse on the road and Marcus Tertius Moses, the tea merchant, drove past us with his daughter, Dancer Moses was her name, and the poodle ^|athey had in her lap bridled up &^a| began to bark^1| and you asked me if I ever heard or read or came across …......

Mrs Breen

(eagerly) Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

She fades from his side. He walks on alone, sorry, displeased, uncertain, mistrustful, excited, amid ^|1past towards^1| hell's gates. In an archway a woman pisses loudly, standing, her feet planted apart, pisses noisily. Outside a shuttered pub a group of ^|1men loiterers^1| listen to the end of a story which a ^|1|abrokennosed brokensnouted^a|1| man relates with rasping humour. ^|1He half crouches to show them ^|aand laughs raucously^a|.^1|

The Man

And what was he after doing it into only into po the bucket of porter that was there for the ^|1Derwan's^1| plasterers.

The Loiterers

^|1(guffawing)^1| O, jays! Jays, that's a good one! ^|1Glauber Salts.^1| O, jays, into the ^|1men's^1| porter.

They laugh in all voices. Some scratch, indifferent to the scene about them. Cheap whores, emboldened by bold, dishevelled, solicit singly and in couples call from ^|1doorways hallways^1|, laneways, doorsteps.

— Come here, queer fellow.

— How is your middle leg?

— That you, love?

— Have you a match on you?
{ms, 008}

— He's going down to Mrs ^|1Mack Mack's^1|.

— Sh! Come here till I feel it for you.

Bloom ^|1passed passes ^|athrough the swamp^a|1| into the lower street. The housedoors are open. Women Gaudy women loll in the lighted halls or about the doors smoking ^|1birdseye^1| cigarettes. The odour of the sicksweet weed floats round Bloom. Kisses are chirped towards him. Ashamed, fluttered he tries to hide his parcel.

Bloom

I cannot go back. In which house have they gone? ^|1I could ask a woman.^{1| |1}And But^1| this parcel. ^|1Shall I eat it? Where? Get myself all sticky.^1| Useless waste.

He perceives the dog. An idea strikes him. He returns a few yards to a dark corner, followed by the terrier and opens the parcel. He throws the crubeen softly in the corner. He would like to eat the trotter but, after a moment, throws it down regretfully ^|1and the bread with the bread^1|. The terrier, snarling with famine, gluts himself greedily, crunching the bones. ^|1Two raincaped ^|awatchmen watch^a| approach. They lay hands on his shoulders.

He ^|adisappears crawls ^|b|cwormlike & worms^c|b|a| down ^|ainto ^|bthrough^b|a| a coalhole, his brown habit trailing after him. The women grow dark. The watch recede.^1|

Bloom goes forward again. New louder kisses are chirped to him. A piano sounds. He stands before the house, listening. The kisses fly about him, twittering.

^|1The Kisses

Leo! Icky sticky licky ^|amicky^a| for Leo! Coo coo coo coocoo! Yummy yum^|a, _unreadg womwom^a| big come big pirouette, Leolee! O Leo!^1|

Bloom

A man's touch that is. Perhaps they are here. Sad music. Church music. Yes, it is here.

^|1He enters the house. Zoe ^|aHiggins^a|, a young whore in sapphire slip ^|aclosed with four ^|bbronze^b| buckle pins^a|, coos to him.
{ms, 009}
She comes down the steps and accosts him)^1|

Zoe

^|1Are you looking for someone.^1| He's inside with his friend.

Bloom

Is this Mrs Mack's?

Zoe

No. Mrs Cohen's. You're not his father, are you?

Bloom

O, no.

Zoe

^|1(suspiciously)^1| I thought from your both being in black.

She takes his arm, cuddling him. ^|1Strange oriental music is played slowly, note by note^1| He looks into her brown eyes, ^|1the eyes of a gazelle: they gazelles are leaping feeding on the mountains. Near^1| are lakes. ^|1He sees the black Black^1| shadows of fo cedar forests file round them. A perfume ^|1of resin^1| rises from the fine strong ^|1hair^1| growth^|1, of resin^1|. It burns, the orient, a sky of sapphire ^|1cleft by the bronze flight of eagles^1|. Under it the woman city lies white, nude nude, white, cool ^|1in luxury^1|. A fountain murmurs among purple roses. ^|1The mammoth^1| Roses of scarlet ^|1wine^1| grapes murmur. Shame A wine of shame, blood, lust exudes from them. ^|1Within a sepulchre, the gold of kings & their mouldering bones. ^|aShe smiles, showing her goldstopped teeth.^a|1|

Zoe

(^|1murmurs with murmuring her^1| lips smeared ^|1lusciouslyº^1| with ^|1her unread pomade of swinefat and rosewater^1| in singsong with the music) Schorah ani wenowah, benoith Hierushaloim

Bloom

^|1(mechanically caressing her left bub)^1| I knew. Are you a Dublin girl

Zoe

^|1(as ^|ashe the free hand^a| catches a stray hair deftly and twists it to her coil)^1| Not bloody much. I'm English.

^|1Zoe

Hog's Norton where the pigs plays the organs.^1| (catching his hand which is feeling
{ms, 010}
for her nipple) I say! Stop that and begin worse. Have you money for a short time. Ten shillings.

Bloom

(smiles) & nods ^|1slowly^1|) More. More.

Zoe

And more's mother? ^|1Come. Coming in?^1|

^|1He stands listening to music, inhaling scents, seeing colours, feeling being tempted.)

Silent means consent.^1|

She leads him up the steps by his hand, the odour of her armpits and the vice of her eyes. ^|1the rustle of her slip in which lurks the leonine reek of all the males that have possessed her.

(roaring faintly) Good! (?)^1|

They reach the doorway where two sister whores are seated. She precedes him They examine him curiously, lazily and at last smile to his hasty bow)

Bloom

(at the threshold standing aside) After you is good manners.

Zoe

Ladies first, gentlemen after.

She goes first into the house: he goes after.

On the return landing a door is thrown open. A man in shirt and trousers crosses, his braces undone dangle behind him ^|1making him^1| like a twotailed ape. ^|1Zoe and Bloom enter Bloom^|a, averting his face,^a| follows Zoe into^1| the parlour. The gaslamp is covered with ^|1red a mauve^1| tissuepaper so that the light is dim. A moth flies round and round, colliding against it. On the mantelpiece ^|1are lie^1| two ^|1large^1| China dogs. On the flank of each is painted a woodland glade. ^|1In the grate is a screen Between them a vase full^1| of peacock feathers. ^|1In the grate is a Japanese parasol screen.^1| On a rug of matted sheepskin before the fireplace Lynch is seated crosslegged, his cap on his back to the front. ^|1He beats time to the music with a wand in his hand.^1| Kitty Lawrence, a bony ^|1pallid^1| whore in street costume,
{ms, 011}
sits on the side of a high ^|1sofa armchair^1|, swinging her leg. ^|1Lynch indicates ^|adecisively^a| the other group.

(behind her hand) She's a little imbecillic.^1|

Lynch ^|1lifts tips^1| up her skirt ^|1and white petticoat^1| with his wand.

Kate

(settling it down quickly) ^|1Respect yourself. Respec.^1| (She hiccups ^|1bending quickly a blank hat ^|afrom^a| under which her hennared hair ^|aflashes glowers^a|1|) O, excuse. Respect yourself.

Zoe

(going to the chandelier, turns the gas full on) More limelight, Charley.

The wand in Lynch's hand flashes: it is a brass poker. Stephen stands by the piano, on which lie his stick and hat. He repeats once more the series of empty fifths. ^|1Florrie Talbot,^1| A blond feeble ^|1|agoosefat goosewhite^a|1| whore, ^|1Florrie Talbot,^1| in a mildewed gown of strawberry, lolls ^|1over the other spreadeagle a^1| sofa corner, listening, a heavy stye drooping over her sleepy eyelid.

^|1Stephen

Just one more word. Are you a god or a clod? Florrie Christ, Stephen Christ, Bloom Christ ^|aYou have that Something Within^a|, it's up to you to sense that cosmic force. It is immense. ^|aWe are all All join ^|bup on^b|a| in this vibration. ^|aIt vibrates. It restores.^a| I am I know. And I am some vibrator. You call me up any old time by sunphone any old time. ^|aSunphones.^a| Harmonial Philosophy. Have you got that?^1|

^|1Zoe Kate^1|

(hiccups again) O, excuse. ^|1She bends over again more quickly. A ^|abrown^a| feather boa uncoils and slides, glides over her shoulder, back, arm, chair to the ground and coils a catterpillar. Stephen, glances behind & sees Lynch's squatted figure with the cap back to the front.^1|

^|1Lynch Zoe^1|

Tie a knot on your shift and stick it back. Who has a fag?

Lynch offers her one. She stretches up and lights it over the gasjet. With his poker he lifts up a side of her gown boldly. ^|1Bare from her shoes up her flesh between the sapphire r_unread is lizardgreen^1|

Zoe

(calmly) Can you see the beauty spot of my behind?

Henry Flower

Litpold Virag, Bloom's double, wearing Stephen's hat, Buck Mulligan's primrose vest, and a brown mackintosh under which he holds a ^|1dulcimer book in two tomes^1|, stands somewhat
{ms, 012}
behind Bloom who sees him

Virag

(points to Zoe Higgins and^|1, with a cough^1| speaks in a ^|1mocking dry^1| voice) There is a lot of nakedness knocking about, what? You perceive that she is not wearing what you like. ^|1At the same time she On the other hand the seated one^1| is in walking costume and I always understood that the act performed so pleased you by reason of ^|1exhibitionistic^1| its procedure of. ^|1especially, I believe in the furs of beasts^1| Am I right?

Bloom

But she is ^|1terribly^1| lean.

Virag

^|1True. And the ^|apannier^a| effect ^|aof those pannier pockets^a| of the skirt is intended to give the impression of breadth.^1| Well then, the third. ^|1Her beam is broad.^1| She is ^|1covered coated^1| with a considerable layer of fat. You perceive that she has in front two protuberances which are of ^|1a^1| respectable ^|1size dimensions^1| and on the other side, lower down, two protuberances which are even larger. ^|1When they are coopfattened their livers reach ^|aa prodigious an elephantine^a| size. ^|aPellets of new breadpills with fenugreek, swamped down by draughts of green tea produce a ^|bnatural cushions^b| on them a colossal blubber.^a|1| That suits your taste, eh?

Bloom

The stye I dislike.

Virag

Perhaps it is a wart. ^|1(coughs)^1| I presume you remember what I told you on that subject. ^|1Wheatenmeal with honey and nutmeg is a good cure.^1|

Bloom

(reflecting) It has been a fatiguing day. Wait. Bloodwarts, I mean wartsblood spreads warts.

^|1Virag

Technic. (with energy^1|

Virag

^|1Caustic. They must be starved.^1| Snip off with a horsehair under the denned neck. But to change the subject have you made up your mind yet whether you like or dislike women in ^|1male^1| costume, ^|1You intended to devote one year to a study of the religious problem. From the sublime to the ridiculous is but a step.^1| pyjamas, let us say? ^|1Or those complicated combinations, camiknickers.^1|

Bloom ^|1looks uncertainly^1| uncertainly watches the everflying moth.

^|1|a|bVirag whispers in his ear, Bloom repeats^b|

Pretty pretty pretty pretty petticoats^1|

Henry Flower, stands between Bloom and Virag, both of whom
{ms, 013}
he resembles. He ^|1is dressed in wears a drooping black sombrero^1| a black velvet cloak under which he holds a dulcimer.

Henry

(in a low voice) All is lost now.

^|1Virag ^|alooks stares^a| at the lamp, Bloom regards Zoe's neck, Henry turns to the piano^1|

Stephen

(to himself) I am slightly drunk (he touches the key he touches the keys again. Florrie Power regards him with stupour

Florrie

Are you out of Maynooth?

Stephen

I am out of it now. (to himself) Clever. ^|1By the way, have I the lamp, the key, the stick. (he sees it) Yes.^1|

^|1Zoe

(lightly) All one and the same God to me.^1|

Lynch

He is. He is a cardinal's son.

^|1His Eminence^1| Cardinal Simon Dedalus appears in the doorway. He is ^|1all^1| in red, shoes, socks, soutane and berretta. ^|1He has a battered silk hat sideways on his head and a corkscrew massboys hanging on his breast^1| Seven^|1, the seven^1| cardinal sins also in red hold up his train. ^|1He looks at all, for a moment, his right eye closed, his left cheek puffed out^1|

The Cardinal

(struggling to suppress his merriment, proclaims with bloated pomp)
Conservio lies captured
He lies in the lowest dungeon,
With manacles and chains around his limbs,
Weighing upwards of three tons

^|1He shuffles off, muttering comically, ^|athe massboys giggling zigzag behind him^a| till he shrinks into to the size of the massboys & disappears^1|

He retires, his face twisted to one side. Bloom advances and taking the chocolate from his pocket offers it to Zoe Higgins.

^|1Zoe

Thank your mother for the rabbits.^1|

She takes a piece and nibbles. Kate ^|1Lawrence Ricketts^1| does the same. Zoe

Zoe

(invitingly to Lynch) No objections
{ms, 014}
to French lozenges?

^|1At a sign from him As he opens his mouth^1| she tosses him a piece of the chocolate. He catches it and chews. Kate ^|1Lawrence Ricketts^1| offers a piece to Bloom.

Bloom

What if it were aphrodisiac? But no, I bought it. ^|1Vanilla too is a sedative^1| Mnemnotechnic. Possibly the confused light here confuses the memory. It seems to influence the taste also of this chocolate. ^|1This colour influences lupus. It encourages hypocondriacs. My figure is sad here in black. The choice of colours is important, suggestive. Let me eat and rejoice here.^1| Or is it because I have not tasted chocolate for a long time. I shall look for some truffles tomorrow.

Bella Cohen, a massive whoremistress, enters the room. She is dressed in a black evening gown and carries a ^|1black^1| fan ^|1of plumes^1| which she flutters. Her eyes are ^|1heavily deeply^1| carboned. She has an incipient moustache. Her c face is heavy, fullnosed, olivecomplexioned. She has huge pendent earrings.

Bella

My word! I'm all of a mucksweat.

She glances round her at the young couples. Then her eyes rest on Bloom with hard insistency. Her large fan winnows cooler wind towards her face and neck and bosom. ^|1Her ^|afalcon^a| eyes glitter.^1|

^|1The Fan

Nes. Yo.^1|

The Fan

Is this was as you ^|1now thought^1| before? ^|1Were then here Was She ^|anever^a| then what^1| you here since knew? Am all one and the same now me?

Bloom

(with deep humility) Powerful being!
{ms, 015}
In my eyes read that slumber which women love. The submission of my soul is absolutely unlimited. Awe and despair possess me.

Bella

(^|1comes near approaches^1|, furling her fan)

Bloom

^|1(winces)^1| Enormously I desire your domination. But I fear you. also. I am alone, exhausted, abandoned. The door and window open in a right line cause and draught. I have felt a twinge of ^|1rheumatism sciatica^1| in my ^|1back left glutear muscle^1|. Long exposure on the rocks in the late evening may have occasioned it. Would, O would, I were young! ^|1missing^1| Queen, marvellous ^|1commanding^1| woman, restore to me my youth. ^|1O, Embrace of universal woman! Abundantly^1| I will eat from your hands. Feed me with miracleworking truffles.

^|1|xhot hide of goats^x|1|

^|1Bella

Magnificence!^1|

Bella

(tips him playfully on the shoulder ^|1with her fan^1|) Down!

Bloom

(sinks on all fours, with a piercing cry) Truffles! (he grovels, grunting, ^|1snuffling,^1| rooting at her feet)