{ms, 001}

(Nighttown. Rows of grimy houses with gaping doors. Rare smoky lamps. ^|3Little Stunted^3| men and women squabble for ices round a halted gondola. They grab wafers between which are wedged lumps of coral and copper snow. The stunted men and women scatter slowly, sucking up the melting coloured snow. They are children. The highreared ^|3swan^3| comb of the gondola forges on through the dark, passing under a lighthouse, d white and blue. Whistles are heard from afar, calling, answering)

The Whistles

Wait my love and I'll be with you.

The Answers

Round behind the stable.

^|3(An idiot with goggle eyes ^|aand, his^a| dribbling ^|aopen shapeless^a| mouth jerks past, shaken in Saint Vitus' dance.) A group of boys je imprison him with a chain of hands)

(They release him. He slops on.)^a|3|

On a step a ^|3ragpicker gnome^3| crouches to shoulder a sack ^|3of rags & bones^3|. A crone, standing by with a guttering oillamp rams her last bottle in the maw of his sack. He shoulders his booty and hobbles off mutely, tugging a peaked cap askew on his eyes. The crone makes back for her lair, swaying her lamp. A bandy child, asquat on the doorstep with a paper shuttlecock crawls sidling after her in jerks and, clutching at her skirt, scrambles up. ^|3A pigmy woman swings on a rope slung between two railings^3| A drunken navvy grips with both hands the railings ofº an area, swaying heavily to and fro. At a corner two night patrols in shouldercapes, their hands upon their staff holsters, stand (loom) tall and silent. A plate is heard to crash: a woman's scream follows: a child is heard wailing. Heads are thrust out of their cells, listening. Oaths of a man are roared out indistinctly. They cease. Figures, male, female, wander through the murk, round turnings, into warrens. ^|3|aThe head ^|b(muffled by its arm & hat)^b| of^a| A form sprawled o against a dustbuck dustbin snores ——ly ^|xHayfoot and strawfoot^{x| |x}deafdumb^{x| |x}Idiot gobbles Salute^x|3| In an openwindowed room lit by a candle, stuck in a bottleneck, a slut combs out the tatts of another slut's hair. A girl's voice, still young, sings out from a lane.)

^|3The Girl Cissy Caffrey^3|

I gave it to Molly
Because she was jolly
The leg of the duck
The leg of the duck.

(Twoº redcoats ^|3marching^3|, swaggersticks tight in their oxters, face about towards the voice and, without halting, emit in chorus from their mouths a volleyed fart. Laughter of men from the lane. A hoarse hag retorts.)

The Hag

Signs on you, dirty arse. More power the Cavan girl.

^|3The Girl Cissy Caffrey^3|

(screams) More luck to me. Cavan, Cootehill and Belturbet.

(The ^|3redcoats blank^3| turn as before and counterretort, marching on. Near the lamp their tunics are bloodbright, their blond skulls close cropped. Biscuitcaps set on the side lobes look like empty ballsockets. The girl's voice ^|3rises soars^3| higher)

The Girl

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

(The redcoats halt with the patrol in talk. ^|3A girl ^|aCissy Caffrey blank^a|3| with hair on the wind rushes across the street, her batshawl wingflapping from her arms. She shrieks, laughing, rustling and is engulfed in a doorway. A burly porter pursues her with booted strides. He stumbles on the steps but recovers and plunges into gloom after her. Weaker shrieks of laughter are heard. They are suffocated. A young man in black with a wide hat passes through the figures, talking animatedly, pointing ahead with ^|3his blank^3| stick ^|3in his left hand^{3| |3}chanting the paschal introit Vidi aquam egredientem de templo a latere dextro^3|. ^|3A dog terrier slinks after him ^|agrowling^a|. He scares it off with a flourish of his ashplant.^3| Aº broader young man wearing a jockey cap walks beside him, a sneer of discontent on his beaked face. ^|3her famished snaggletusks protruding)^3| An elderly procuress lolled against a doorframe looks out and calls in a husky whisper)

The Procuress

Sst! Come here till I tell you. Maidenhead inside. Sst! (They pass unheeding. She calls ^|3scornfully^3|)

^|3Stephen

In the darkmans clip and kiss^3|

The Procuress

Trinity medicals. Fallopian tube. All prick and no money.

(She spits ^|3her a jet of^3| venom. ^|3A redhaired girl Edy Boardman sniffling^3|, ^|3seated crouched^3| with a friend on a step, draws her shawl quickly across her nostrils as she relates)

^|3The Redhaired Girl Edy^3|

^|3(bickering)^3| And says the one: I seen you in Faithful Placeº with your squarepusher in the come-to-bed hat. Did you? says I. That's not for you to say, says I. You never seen me ^|3nightwalking^3| in the mantrap with a highlander, says I. Stag that one is. Stubborn as a mule. And her walking with two fellows the one time. Kilbride, the enginedriver, and lance corporal Oliphant.

^|3Stephen

Et omnes ad quos pervenit acqua ista. Salvi facti sunt.^3|

Lynch

^|3(looks behind)^3| So that?

Stephen

So that the art of gesture is to render visible not the lay sense but the first structural rhythm. Who wants unread two gestures to illustrate a loaf and a jug? This movement illustrates then the loaf and jug of bread, or wine I mean, in Omar. Here, hold myº stick.
{ms, 002}

Lynch

Damn your yellow 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 planes intersecting, the fingers about to part, the left being higher)

Lynch

Which is the jug of bread? It skills not. Illustrate thou. Here, take your crutch ^|3& walk straight^3|.

(They pass out of sight. ^|3An urchin Tommy Caffrey ^|astarts to^a|3| scrambles to a streetlamp and, clasping, climbs it in spasms. From the spur at the top he slides down ^|3to his ring of urchin friends^3|. ^|3|xJacky^x| another urchin climbs.^3| 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 farther nostril a long liquid jet of snot. Then, shouldering the lamp, he staggers away through the crowd, with his flaring cresset. ^|3Feelers of riverfog creep.^3| Bloom ^|3emerges from the crowd and stands by the curbstone^{3| |3}in the distance^3| comes round a corner hastily and stops, out of breath. In each hand he holds a paper parcel, one containing a lukewarm pig's crubeen and a cold sheep's trotter, sprinkled with wholepepper, the other two slices of quarten loaf and a cake of Fry's chocolate. He frowns, hesitates.

^|3Bloom

^|ahis bending sideways^{a| |a}Close shave that. Why did I run?^a| Stitch in my side. Wait. Is this Mecklenburgh street? Yes. Mabbot street there.^3|

^|3Grooves Lanes Tramstracks ^|aA leaping glow.^a| A tramsliding, uncobbled, with skeleton tracks set with red & green ^|alamps pennons^a|.

Aurora borealis? Or a steel foundry glow? Ah, the brigade. South side anyway. (he hums cheerfully) London's burning, London's burning. On fire. On fire.^3|

^|3Bloom. He darts suddenly across the road. A ^|aHowthgoing tram dragon sandstrewer^a| with large ^|ared^a| eye and red rooflights slews heavily down upon him, its gong banging.

Stitch in my side. Close shave that. Time Day the mudboard wheel of the Black Maria peeled off my ^|aboot shoe^a| at Ty Noblett's corner. Lightness in the head. The monthly course or effect of the other.^3|

^|3(A dark sinister figure^|a, ^|bdarkfaced darkvisaged^b| from infected men^a| regards him.

Haha. Slan leath.^3|

^|3Bloom perceives a figure in the distance. He starts off suddenly to the right. A vagrant bars his path. They move leap to the left together.

^|xLB signposts for tourists Keep to R^x|3|

^|3|xA ^|apestering ^|brunning snatchpurse^b|a| child runs full tilt against towards him ^|a& collides^a|

(feels his parcels watch & pockets) ^|apickpocket's dodge^a|x|3|

(^|3the terrier approaches him, sniffing^3| Rudolph, a stooped bearded figure, appears beside him, garbed in a long caftan embroidered with dog's heads, a smokingcap with magenta tassels and wearing horned spectacles)

Rudolph

^|3|xYellow poison streaks^x|3| Second half crown wasted today. I told you not go with drunken goy ever.

Bloomº

^|3(^|ain a youth's ^|bsmart^b| serge ^|bOxford^b| suit, narrow shouldered and Alpine hat, ^|xgent's stg silver^{x| |b}keyless Waterbury ^|cdouble curb Albert with seal attached^c|b| one side of him mudcoated^a| hiding the crubeen parcel behind his back) Ja, ich weiss, papachi.^3| I know.

(He looks down, shamefaced, feeling through the paper a warm crubeen, a cold trotter)

Rudolph

What are you doing? ^|3(fingers on face)^3| Are you not my son Leopold.

Bloom

^|3Yes, I suppose so,^3| father. ^|3What's left of him.^3|

Rudolph

(severely) One night they bring you home drunk as dog after spend your good money. What you call them running chaps?

Bloom

Harriers. Only that once.

Rudolph

Once! ^|3Nice spectacles for your poor mother.^3| All mud head ^|3to and^3| foot. Cut your hand open. Lockjaw.

Bloom

(weakly ^|3crestfallen^3|) They challenged me to race them. It was muddy. I slipped.

Rudolph

(with contempt) Goim nachez! Nice spectacles for your poor mother.

(Ellen Bloom, a dame in stringed bonnet, wide skirt and bustle, ^|3buttoned blouse with muttonleg sleeves, buttoned behind ^|amobcap^a|3| pushes aside a curtain)

Ellen

(in shrill alarm) O, blessed Redeemer!º Where were you at all? ^|3My smelling salts^3|

^|3(^|aDrawing Hauling^a| up a hemisphere ^|xreef^x| of ^|askirt dress^a| she ransacks the pouch of her ^|a|bmagenta^b| striped^a| blaey underskirt. Celluloid dolls fall out)^3|

(Bloom looks down at his clothes and bestows the bread and chocolate in a side pocket. ^|3With her mirage of datepalms^3| A handsome woman in Turkish costume stands before him. Opulent curves fill her scarlet trousers and jacket. A white yashmak, violet in the night, covers her face and ^|3raven^3| hair, leaving free only her large dark eyes)

Marion

Poldy!

Bloom

Who? Molly?

^|3Marion

Mrs Marion, please, from this out ^|amy dear man ^|bwhen you address me^b|a|.^3|

(He breathes in deep agitation, wavering. Questions rise to his lips. He swallows them down. He wishes to sink to the ground near her slippers to tell her that he bought the crubeen and trotter, the bread and chocolate for her supper. He wishes, unwishes, is cold, warm, knows, knows not, stands helpless, spellbound by her eyes and dress. Beneath her turreted turban a coin gleams on her forehead. Her anklets are linked together by a fetterchain. Beside her a camel waits with hood and ^|3palanquin bobbing howdah^3|, aº ^|3silk^3| ladder of innumerable steps, leading to his hump. ^|3He ambles near. She slaps his flank fiercely ^|auttering a curse scolding him in Moorish^a|. The animal hangs his head.^3| A slow friendly mockery steals into her eyes)

^|3Bloom

(to Marion ^|astooping his back for leapfrog^a|) I can give you a leg up behind, Mrs Marion.º^3|

Bloom

(with forced speed) I was just going back for that lotion, whitewax, orangeflower water. Shop closes early on Thursdays. But the first thing in the morning …

^|3(He points to the east. A cake of ^|anew, clean^a| lemon soap rises diffusing light, and perfume^|a, clean^a|

(Oilily) One and nine, please.^3|

Marion

Poldy!

Bloom

^|3(fascinated?)^3| Yes.

Marion

Ti trema un poco il cuore?

(In disdain she saunters away ^|3|xpoulter pampered^x|3|. He follows, followed by a sniffing ^|3dog terrier^3|. She is gone. The elderly procuress seizes his sleeve. Instinctively he tightens the grip his crubeen and trotter)

The Procuress

(^|3the bristles of her chinmole glistening^3| pouring into his ear a foetid message) Ten shillings a maidenhead. Fresh thing that was never touched. Fifteen. (Her mouldy sweat promises secret obscenities. She points to
{ms, 003}
the doorway. In ^|3the her^3| dark ^|3aperture den^3|, furtive, rainbedraggled, Bridie Kelly stands. She calls to him)

Bridie

Hatch street. Any good in your mind.

^|3|xbatshawl ^|aflapping^a| burly porter pursues with booted strides^x|3|

(He thinks of giving the crubeen and trotter to the procuress. Gertyº MacDowell limps to his side. Leering, she draws from behind her something and shows it coyly. It is her bloodied clout)

Gerty

With all my worldly goods I thee and thou (in a long lingering whisper) You did that.

Bloom

I? Mistaken identity. I never saw you. When?

Gerty

(paws his coatsleeve, slobbering) ^|3You saw ^|aall^a| the secrets of my bottom drawer.^3| Dirty married man! I love you for doing that.

The Procuress

^|3Ten shillings. ^|a(to Gerty) Leave the gentleman alone. Streetwalking and soliciting. Better for your mother to take the strap to you^|b, hussy like you^b|. (^|bGerty glides away.^b| to B—)^a|3| (hurriedly ^|3her wolfeyes shining^3|) Come. Don't be all night. You won't get a virgin in the flash houses. Come before the polis ^|3in plain clothes^3| sees us. Sixtyseven is a bitch.

(Mrs Breen ^|3in spider's veil,^3| stands in the middle of the street ^|3in a ^|alarge^a| frieze gentleman's overcoat with large bellows pockets^3|. She throws open her mouth, eyes and arms, astonished)

Mrs Breen

(astonished) ^|3Mr Bloom!^3| You down here! O, wait till I see Molly. ^|3(She looks at him roguishly, smiling with large ^|acarnivorous herbivorous^a| buck teeth)^3|

Bloom

(Confused) ^|3Not so loud. Walls have ears.^3| O, how do you do? ^|3It's ages since I saw you.^{3| |3}Close kind of Seasonable^3| weather ^|3for this time of year^3|. ^|3Black reflects, refracts.^3| Short cut home here. Interesting quarter. Molly often (he looks round him) She said once in Thornton's at supper she would prefer a negro servant. ^|3Othello, a black brute^3| Exotic, you see. Livermore minstrels. Haigh's ^|3Moore Players^3|. The Bohee Brothers. ^|3|xEugene Stratton^x|3| Sweep even.

(Tom and Sam Bohee, coloured coons in white duck suits, ^|3scarlet socks, ^|xlarge scarlet asters^x|3| leapº out. Each has a ^|3Swanee ribber^3| banjo slung ^|3to play^3|. ^|3Their paler smaller ^|anegroid^a| hands jangle the ^|atwingtwangling^a| wires.^3| Flashing ^|3the whites of their eyes their whiteyekaffir eyes^3| and teeth they rattle through a breakdown in their clumsy clogs and singing ^|3back to back^3| with smackfatclacking nigger lips)

Tom and Sam

There's someone in the house with Dina.
There's someone in the house, I know.
There's someone in the house with Dina
Playing on the old banjo.

(^|3They snatch ^|athe^a| black masks from their raw babby faces^3| Chuckling, chortling, trumming, twanging, they diddlediddle dance away)

Bloom

(to Mrs Breen) I was just buying a little snack for supper after the theatre. Leah, Mrs Bandman Palmer. ^|3Unfortunately threw away the programme^3| Rattling good place round there for pigs' feet. Feel how hot.

^|3Bloom

(sighs)º The left hand. Nearest the heart.^a|3|

^|3Bloom

O, I wanted to.^3|

(Richie Goulding appears weighted to one side by the black legal bag of Colles and Ward on which a skull and crossbones are painted in white limewash. He opens it and shows it full of polonies, kippered herrings and tightpacked pills)

Richie

(stolidly) Best value in Dublin. Eh?

Bloom

Feel.

Mrs Breen

(shouts with laughter) Glory Alice! You do look a holy show. Killing, simply. ^|3You should just see yourself. O, you ruck!^3|

^|3(Bald Pat ^|awho is bothered, bothered beetle,^a| answers the question ^|a|bstands on the curbstone, folding his napkin^b| waiting to wait^a|

(with a shriek of pain, his hand to his back) Ah! Bright's! lights!^3|

Bloom

(cautiously) Don't attract the attention of the public. ^|3I hate stupid crowds.^3| I want to tell you a little secret about how I came to be here. ^|3It is a very grave predicament^3| You must never tell. Not even Molly. I have a most particular reason. ^|3I am not on pleasure bent^3|

Mrs Breen

(all agog) O, not for worlds.

^|3Bloom^3|

^|3Bl

Let's.^3|

(^|3Bloom^3| Shaking himself free of the procuress walks on with Mrs Breen. The dog slinks at their heels ^|3|xThe terrier whines piteously, wagging his tail^x|3|)

^|3|xProcuress

Jewman's melt^x|3|

Bloom

^|3(in an oatmeal sporting suit ^|abuff shirt^{a| |a}fawn spats^{a| |a}fawn dustcoat^{a| |x}tawny red blank^{x| |x}fieldglasses^x| grey billycock hat, shepherd's plaid tie, and ^|acarnation a sprig of woodbine^a| in his buttonhole^3| (low, mysteriously, with increasing rapidity) Do you remember a long long time ago ^|3years & years^3| just after Milly was weaned when we all went together to Fairyhouse races ^|3and was it?^3|

^|3Mrs Breen

Leopardstown.^3|

^|3Bloom

Of course^3| Molly won seven shillings on a horse named Nevertell and coming home ^|3along by Foxrock^3| in the ^|3old shandaradan ofº a^3| wagonette. you were sitting beside me ^|3You were in your heyday^3| and you ^|3wore had on^3| that new hat ^|3of white velours with a surround of molefur ^|athat was more in keeping with your complexion^{a|3| |3}Denis bought for you Mrs Galbraith recommended did it on purpose^3| that didn't become you ^|3half ¼^3| as well as the ^|3other the other ducky little tammy^3| toque with the ^|3snipe in it bird of paradise feathers in it ^|athat was more in keeping with your complexion^{a| |x}I never liked the other style^{x| |a}with tenderly) though it was a pity to kill it, ^|byou cruel naughty blank^b| little thing with a heart the size of a fullstop^a|3| and Molly was eating a sandwich of spiced beef out of Mrs Joe Gallaher's lunchbasket and laughing because Rogers and Maggot O'Reilly were mimicking a cock as we passed a farmhouse and Marcus Tertius Moses, the tea merchant, drove past us in a gig with his daughter, Dancer Moses was her name, and the unread poodle in her lap bridled up and you asked me if Iº ever heard or read or came across …

Mrs Breen

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

(She fades from his side. Displeased, mistrustful, he walks on alone, towards hell's gates. In an archway a standing woman, her feet planted far apart, pisses cowily. Outside a shuttered pub a group of loiterers listen to the end of a story which a brokensnouted ^|3man gaffer^3| relates with rasping humour. To show them he crouches and raucously laughs)
{ms, 004}

The ^|3Man Gaffer^3|

And ^|3when the gaffer came along^3| what was heº after doing it into only into the bucket of porter that was there for Derwan's plasterers.

The Loiterers

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

(They laugh in all voices, indifferent to the scene about them. ^|3limesplattered with lime and size, their hats paintspeckled. They frisk wearily about their gaffer, bedappled beavers,^3| Cheap whores, bold, dishevelled, singly, coupled, call from hallways, doorways, laneways)

The Whores

— Come here, queer fellow.

— How's your middle leg?

— Got a match on you?

— Eh? Come here till I ^|3feel stiffen^3| it for you.

(Bloom passes through the swamp into the lower street. ^|3|aA gramophone protrudes from a curtained window From a bulk of bulged windowcurtains a gramophone protrudes upwards a battered brazen trunk.^a|3| The housedoors are open. Gaudy dollwomen loll in the lighted halls, about the doors, in the window embrasures, smoking birdseye cigarettes. The odour of the sicksweet weed floats towards and around Bloom in pearly wreaths)

The Wreaths

Sweet sweet. Embrace. Of air.

(Ashamed, flattened, he tries to hide his parcel ^|3The dog sprawls ^|aobscenely^a| on his back ^|awriggling obscenely^a| with begging paws. The dog holds out a long limp black tongue.^3|)

Bloom

^|3A wildgoose chase. ^|xMe too. That money.^x| Disorderly houses.^3| I can't go back. ^|3In which house Where^3| have they gone? I could ask. Or let it slide. ^|3Half a crown gone and my back feels rather weak. ^|x1^st cl. with 3^rd class ticket^{x| |x}Ifº I had not met Mrs Breen^x|3| But this parcel. Shall I eat it? Where? Get myself all sticky then. Waste. ^|3Fool's errand ^|aInfluence of the by his surroundings. ^|xGood biz here for cheapjacks^x| Soon got soon gone.^a|3| Strange how dogs like me. Even that brute today. ^|3But better to speak to this animal first.^3| (^|3He perceives a dog The dog shoves a cold snivelling muzzle against his hand ^|awagging his tail^a|3|) ^|3|aAddressing With^a| encouraging words Shambles back ^|afurtively, with a furtive poacher's tread,^a| and retreats a few yards to a dark corner followed by the tracking terrier.^{3| |3}(He holds back the trotter) It feels a ^|abig meaty^a| one. Then I have it in my left hand of course. ^|a|bCalls for more effort.^b| Smaller perhaps from want of use or unaccustomed, which?^a| Let it go (he throws it down regretfully)^3| He opens the parcel and dumps the crubeen softly in the corner. He would like to eat the trotter but after an instant lets it fall regretfully. The terrier ^|3mauls the bundle &^3| gluts himself greedily, crunching the bones)º
{ms, 005}

(Two raincaped watch approach. Eachº lays a hand on Bloom's shoulder)

First Watch

^|3Caught in the act.^3| Commit no nuisance.

Bloom

(Stammers) I am doing good to others. Training by kindness. ^|3The friend of man.^3| (He points. Bob Doran, toppling from a high barstool, sways over the famished dog)

Bob Doran

Here, Towser. Give us the paw. Give the paw, doggy.

(The dog ^|3his scruff standing, a gobbet of pig's knuckle between his ^|ateeth molars^a|3| growls. Bob Doran falls sideways slowly silently into an area)

^|3(A covey of gulls, storm petrels, rises, hungry, famished, from Liffey slime with Banbury cakes in their beaks.

Caw! MawCaw! Caw!^3|

^|3Bloom

I once scolded ^|aa floatman that tramman^a| on Rialto bridge for illusing his ^|apoor^a| horse ^|aill with harness scabs^a| and got bad language for my pains. Of course it was a frosty night & the last tram. ^|x(Signor Maffei, ^|adiamond studs^a| deadly, passionpale, in liontamer's costume with curling carriagewhip ^|aand. He covers the dog with a loaded^a| revolver) ^|aI possess the Indian sign. The glint of my eye does it with these breastsparklers.^{a| |a}My^a| Educated greyhounds. I h I broke in the bucking broncho with my patent spiked saddle. ^|aLash under the belly with a knotted thong.^a| Block tackle and strangling pulleys will bring your lion to heel ^|ano matter how fractious^a|. ^|aA redhot crowbar and some liniment rubbing produced Fritz, the thinking leopard hyena.^{a| |a}(withº a sinister smile)^a| I introduce Mademoiselle Ruby, the pride of the ring^x|3|

First Watch

Name and address.

Bloom

(takes off his ^|3high grade^3| hat, saluting) Bloom, Leopold. ^|3You have heard of Bloom Pascha. Owns half Austria. Egypt too. ^|aCousin.^a|3| (A card falls from ^|3inside the leather headband of^3| his hat)

First Watch

Proof.

Bloom

(hastily picking up the card) and offering it) Allow me.

First Watch

(reads) Henry Flower, no fixed abode.

Second Watch

An alibi.

Bloom

(produces from his heartpocket a faded yellow flower: ^|3Lady in the case^3| he murmurs privately and confidentially his name on watch's shoulder) This is the flower in question. We are engaged, you see. Bloom the flower. The change of name. Virag. ^|3Way we have in the navy.^3|

Martha

(thickveiled, ^|3crimson halter^3| in tone of reproach, pointing) Henry! Leopold! Lionel, thou lost one! ^|3Clear my name^3|

First Watch

(sternly) Come to the station.

Bloom

(^|3in alarm scared^3|) No, no. Let me explain, sergeant. Appearances are against me. Wrongfully accused. ^|3Lesurques & Dubosc of the Lyons Mail. Mistaken identity.^3| You remember the Childs murder case. By striking him dead with a hatchet. Fratricide. Better one escape than ninetynine condemned.

Martha

(sobbing behind her veil) Breach of promise. ^|3He told me he was miserable.^3| I'll tell my four brothers.º ^|3on you, heartless flirt^3|.

Second Watch

(to Bloom) ^|3|aDisgraceful!^a|3| You ought to be thoroughly well ashamed of yourself.

Bloom

^|3But Gentlemen of the jury …^3| let me explain. ^|3A pure mare's nest.^{3| |3|x}a man misunderstood^{x| |x}I am being made a scapegoat of.^x|3| My wife, the daughter of ^|3one of our most distinguished commanders a most distinguished commander^3|. ^|3|aI'm a good Britisher who helped to fight & win our battles^a| I fought at Bloemfontein for king & country; mentioned in dispatches.^3| I am a respectable married man ^|3without a stain on my character^3|. I live in Eccles street. I ^|3am a journalist ^|aam a journalist from Ringsend follow a literary occupation^a|3|. I write for the British and Irish press. ^|3In fact we are just bringing out a collection of prize stories ^|aof which I am the author ^|bsomething entirely new unread^b|a|3| If you ring up ….

(Myles Crawford strides out jerkily. His scarlet face, a homerule sun, blazes within the aureole of his straw hat. He holds a telephone receiver ^|3|xhank of Span. onions^x|3| to his ear)

Myles Crawford

Hello! Sevenseven eightfour. Hello! Freeman's Urinal and Weekly Arsewiper here. ^|3Paralyse Europe^3| You which? Who wrote? Bluebags? Is it Bloom?

(Mrº Philip Beaufoy stands in the witnessbox, in accurate morning dress, silk hat^|3|x, outbreast pocket with tip of handkerchief^{x|3| |3}creased^3| lavender trousers ^|3and ^|xin ^|atony^a| patent boots^x|3|. He carries a large portfolio labelled Matcham's Masterstrokes)

Beaufoy

(curtly) ^|3No, you aren't. ^|aNot if I know it.^a| I don't quite see ^|athat it^a|, that's all. ^|aNo born gentleman, no-one with the first ^|brudimentary^b| instincts ^|xrudimentary promptings^x| of a gentleman would stoop to such perfectly loathsome conduct^a|3| A ^|3delinquent plagiarist^3|, my lord. ^|3One of those. It is perfectly obvious that^3| He ^|3has^3| cribbed some of my bestselling ^|3stuff copy, really gorgeous stuff^3|, my lord. The Beaufoy books, with which your lordship is doubtless familiar, are a household word throughout the kingdom.

Bloom

(bravely) It is ^|3not true to life bad art^3|. ^|3I can prove it.^{3| |3}part about the laughing witch hand in hand I take exception^{3| |3}That passage about the laughing witch I take exception

Overdrawn^3|

Beaufoy

(superciliously ^|3smiling on court^3|) ^|3You funny ass, you ^|xI don't think you need ^|aover excessively^a| to ^|atrouble yourself too incommodate yourself ^|btoo much^b| in that regard^a|x|3| My literary agent, Mr JB Pinker, is in attendance. I presume we ^|3are entitled to our shall receive the usual^3| witnesses' fees, ^|3my lord shan't we^3|. Time is money. We ^|3came here at considerable personal inconvenience are considerably out of money ^|aowing to this ^|bdelinquent bally pressman ^|cBloom johnny^c|b|a|3|.

J.J. O'Molloyº

(^|3in barrister's grey wig and stiff gown, speaking in a faint voice ^|aholds applies^a| his handkerchief to his mouth^3|) ^|3My client wishes to make a statement.^{3| |3}His face lengthens, grows pale and bearded, ^|awith blotches of phthisis^a| like that of John X Taylor)^3| (he coughs into his handkerchief and examines ^|3the phlegm a galloping tide of rosepink blood^3|) Excuse me, I am suffering from a severe chill. ^|3|aA few wellchosen words which the pensive bosom has inaugurated^{a| |a}I hold a watching brief for Michelangeo^{a| |x}he holds solemnly the lapel of his coat^{x| |a}(assuming the avine head, foxy moustaches and nasal voice of Seymour Bushe ^|bHe steps on to a low plinth^b|)^{a| |a}When the angel's book comes to be opened^a| If aught of soultransfigured & of soultransfiguring deserves to live^3|

Bloom

Can give best references. Messrs Callan, Coleman. Mr Wisdom Hely J.P. Mr V.B. Dillon, ex lord mayor of Dublin. ^|3I move in the the ^|abest highest^a| circles. The élite.^3|

First Watch

Call the woman Driscoll.

^|3The Crier

Mary Driscoll, scullery maid.^3|

(Mary Driscoll, a slipshod servantgirl approaches with a scouringbrush and bucket)

Secondº Watch

Another! ^|3|xunfortunate class^x|3| What do you tax him with? ^|3What is the offence complained of?^3|

Mary Driscoll

^|3He made a certain suggestion but I thought more of myself, so I did ^|aas poor as I am^a|.^{3| |3}(indignantly) I'm not a bad one. I was in a situation ^|a£6 a year and ^|band my chances with^b| Fridays out^a|. I had to leave owing to his attentions. I am a good character.^3| He surprised me from behind in the ^|3scullery rere of the premises^3|, your honour, when the missus was out shopping with a request for the use of a safetypin.

^|3Bloom

(excitedly stands) As God is my judge, if ever I laid a hand on ^|ait them oylsters^a|!^3|

^|3|xDriscol

He held me and I was discoloured as a result.^x|3| He interfered with my clothing, so he did, your honour, till I
{ms, 006}
took the scouringbrush to him.

^|3Bloom

I had more respect for the scouringbrush I remonstrated with him, your lord, and he remarked: keep it quiet.^3|

(General laughter)

George Fottrell

(Clerk of the Crown and Peace, resonantly) Order in court.

(Bloom begins^|3, pleading not guilty,^3| a long unintelligible speech ^|3but is howled down^{3| |3}They would hear what counsel had to say in his stirring address.^3| The reporters at the press table murmur that they cannot hear)

The Reporters

Speak up!

J.J. O'Molly

^|3(in barrister's grey wig and stiff gown, speaking in a faint voice)^3| My client is of ^|3foreign alien^3| descent ^|3& a poor foreign immigrant ^|aof Mongolian ancestry^a|3|. ^|3|xHis submission is^{x| |a}and such Such^a| familiarities are quite permitted in his native place. ^|aThe act was due to a momentary aberration of heredity.^{a| |a}The offence ^|bcomplained of^b| was not repeated^a| It is not alleged that ^|athe girl had been tampered with or^a| intimacy ^|aoccured took place^{a| |x}I can produce rebutting evidence in the witnessbox to show that the hidden hand is again at its old game. When in doubt persecute Bloom.^x|3| No-one regrets more than he that ^|3the a^3| girl ^|3who ^|ahas taken took^a| the wrong turning^3| is in trouble ^|3and he would be the last man in the world to cast a stone at a poor girlº who took &c^3| and ^|3|x& I say it emphatically^x|3| he is willing to ^|3go straight^3| do the right thing. He is down on his luck at present. His extensive property at Agendath Netaim, Asia Minor, ^|3the land of the Pharaoh^3| is in the market. He can produce vouchers from the district, rentrolls photographic views. He tenders ^|3five shillings a penny in the pound^3|. ^|3My client wishes to make a statement.^3|

^|3|xBloom

^|xI des ^|aPity me. Have pity on me.^{a| |a}I intend to reform^a| I am a seven months' child. ^|aaged parent^{a| |a}I am down & out^a| I want to lead a simple life, homely, pure, affectionate surroundings.^{x| |x}loveful ^|ahouseholds homesteads^a| youthful scholars grappling with their pensums ^|areciting the family rosary^{a|x| |x}in boreens & green lanes^{x| |x}the organtoned melodeon^x|3|

^|3|xThis is not a place for levity^{x| |x}beargarden^{x| |x}travesty of justice^{x| |x}Sonambule^x|3|

—————————————————

(Moses Dlugacz, ^|3porkbutcher,^3| redhaired, ^|3ferreteyed,^3| in a blue dungarees, stands up in the gallery, holding up in each hand ^|3a an orange^3| citron and a pig's kidney)

Dlugacz

(hoarsely) Bleibtreustrasse, Berlin. W. 13.

—————————————————

Mrs Brereton Barry

(in a ^|3lowcut low corsage^3| opal balldress ^|3elbowlength ivory gloves ^|awith brick dolman^a|3|) Arrest him, constable. He wrote me ^|3in disguised handwriti backhand^3| an anonymous letter when my husband was on ^|3the Leinster^3| circuit, signed James Lovebirch. He said he saw me ^|3from theº gods^3| at La Cigale in a box of the theatre Royal, that ^|3I my peerless globes^3| deeply inflamed him. He made improper overtures to me ^|3to misconduct myself^3|. He offered to send me a work ofº fiction by Paul de Kock entitled The Girl with the Three Pairs of Stays.

Mrs Bellingham

(in a ^|3sealskin seal^3| mantle ^|3wrapped to nose^3| and cap steps out of her brougham ^|3and scans through tortoiseshell quizzing-glasses^3|) Also to me ^|3I believe it is the same person^3| because he closed my carriage door one rainy day outside sir Thornley Stoker's. He enclosed a sprig of edelweiss, culled he said ^|3on the heights^3| in my honour. I had it examined by a student of botany and ^|3it turned out to be a elicited the information that it was ^|athe a^a| common or garden^3| blossom of the potato plant purloined from the model farm.

^|3A crowd of ragamuffins and sluts surges forward

(scream) ^|aHurrah there, duckstool!^a| Three cheers for Ikey Mo! Stop thief!^3|

Second Watch

(produces handcuffs) Here are the darbies.

Mrs Bellingham

He addressed me with fulsome compliments as a Venus in furs though his allusions ^|3to of^3| my ^|3cockaded^3| coachman ^|3in Joseph's^{3| |3}the fleecy^3| sheepskins seemed ^|3to me beside the point objectionable to me^3|. He praised almost extravagantly my nether extremities and, my swelling calves ^|3in silk hose drawn up to the limit ^|aand other hidden treasures ^|bpriceless lace he could imagine^b|a|3|. He urged me to ^|3defile the marriage bed,^3| commit adultery at the earliest possible opportunity.

Theº Honourable Mrs Paget Butler

(in riding costume, ^|3|xAmazon costume, spurs, fawn musketeer gloves^{x|3| |3}and ^|afoo_unread fur^{a| |a}cockspurred^{a| |x}jean^x| top boots ^|awith spurs^{a| |a}vermilion hunting jacket,^a|3| hard hat, long train and huntingcrop with which she strikes her welt constantly) Also me. ^|3That is the person.^{3| |3}He This plebian^3| saw me on the polo ^|3ground blank^3| in the Phoenix park ^|3at the match All Ireland versus the Rest of Ireland. My eyes, I know, shone divinely as I watched Captain ^|aSlogger^a| Dennehy of the 11^th Inniskillings Hussars win the final chukka^3|. He sent me in double envelopes an obscene photograph insulting to any lady. I have it still. He urged me to ^|3misbehave^3| sin with officers of the garrison. He implored me to chastise him as he ^|3richly^3| deserves ^|3|xmost vicious whipping^x|3|.

Mrs Bellingham

Me too.

Mrs Brereton Barry

Me too.

^|3Bloom

(^|ahis eyes closing,^a| quailing ^|ain expectation^a|) Not here. ^|aAll these people.^a| Another time. It's the idea. It was unread spanking without effusion.^{x| |x}to bring out the dormant tigress in your nature^x|3|

The Honourable Mrs Paget Butler

^|3O, did you, my fine fellow Well you'll get ^|aa the most unmerciful^a| hiding now ^|afrom me believe me,^a| you never bargained for. I'll lash him.^3| (in sudden fury ^|3stamping her jingling spurs^3|) I will, by the God above me. ^|3I'll scourge the pigeonlivered cur.^3| I will flay him alive. ^|3A dog. ^|aPig. Pigdog to ^|bassume to^b| address me^a|3| I will thrash him black and blue in the public streets. ^|3|xshudders^x| I will dig myº spurs ^|asavagely^a| into him up to the rowel.^3| He is a wellknown cuckold (she swishes her huntingcrop ^|3wickedly^3| in the air) Take down his trousers without loss of time. Quick!

(The brass quoits of a bed are heard to jingle)

The Quoits

— Jigjag. Jigajiga. Jigjag.

(A panel of the mist rolls back rapidly revealing rapidly in the jury box the faces of Martin Cunningham, ^|3foreman, silkhatted,^3| Jack Power, Simon Dedalus, Tom Kernan, Ned Lambert, John Henry Menton, Myles Crawford, Lenehan, Paddy Leonard, Nosey Flynn, M'Coy and a Nameless One)

The Nameless One

(snarls) Bareback riding. ^|3Weight for age.^3| Gob, he organised her. ^|3Arse over tip. Hundred to five.^3|

^|3The Jury

(snarls) Arse over tip. Hundred shillings to five.^3|

The ^|3Others Jury^3|

(^|3all^3| bow in grave assent) Most of us thought as much.

^|3First Watch

It is Jack the Ripper. ^|aA marked man:^a| £1000 reward.^3|

Second Watch

(awed, whispers). He is in black. ^|3A mormon.^3| An anarchist incog. That is his infernal machine ^|3with a time fuse^3|. A bomb.

Bloom

(desperately) No, no. Pig's feet. I was at a funeral.

First Watch

(draws his truncheon) Liar!

(Theº dog lifts his snout. He has ^|3devoured gnawed^3| all. He grows to human size and shape. His terrier coat becomes a brown mortuary habit. His red eyes flash bloodshot. He has the ^|3grey scorbutic^3| face of Paddy Dignam ^|3with half of one ear, ^|aboth thumb^a| and all the nose ^|aeaten away ghouleaten^a|3|)

Paddy Dignam

(in a hollow voice) It is true. It was my funeral. Doctor Finucane pronounced life extinct ^|3|awhen on the instant^a| I ^|aexpired succumbed^a| to the disease^3|.
{ms, 007}

(He lifts an ashen ^|3mutilated^3| face and bays lugubriously)

Bloom

(triumphantly) You see! ^|3A mare's nest.^3|

First Watch

How is that possible?

Second Watch

It is not in the ^|3penny^3| catechism.

Paddyº Dignam

By metempsychosis. ^|3Spooks.^3|

A Voice

(in musical derision) O rocks!

Paddy Dignam

(earnestly) ^|3Hard lines.^3| Once I was in the employ of Mr John Henry Menton, solicitor, commissioner for oaths and affidavits. ^|3Bachelor's Walk.^3| Two pounds fifteen a week ^|3|aHard lines on the poor wife. How is the poor wife taking it?^a| She was awfully cut up. But keep her ^|aoff away from^a| the bottle.^3| (he looks round him). A lamp. I want to micturate. That buttermilk ^|3didn't agree with me^3|. ^|3He stops. He places his ear to the ground.^3|

(The portly figure of the caretaker, John O'Connell, stands forth with a bunch of keys and a gramophone trumpet ^|3veiled in crape^3|. Beside him is Father Coffey, chaplain, ^|3toadbellied, wrynecked,^3| in a surplice and bandanna nightcap, holding limply a butterfly net ^|3then with a rook's beak hoarsely croaks^3|)

Father Coffey

(yawning ^|3toadbellied^3|:) Naminedamine. ^|3Vobiscum. Vobiscuits.^3| Amen.

^|3Dignam

(winces) Overtones.^3|

John O'Connell

(calls stormily through his ^|3craped^3| trumpet).º Dignam, Patrick T. Burial docket ^|3letter^3| number U.P. eightyfivethousand and four. Field seventeen. ^|3House of Keyes^3| Plot. One hundred and nine.

(Paddy Dignam listens intently, with visible effort, thinking, his hears ears cocked ^|3his tail stiffpointed^3|)

Paddy Dignam

My master's voice. Pray for the repose of my soul.

(He worms down through a coalhole ^|3his brown mortuary habit trailing after him^3|. His voice is heard baying muffled in the hole. Dignam's dead and gone below. ^|3His brown mortuary habit ^|a& dragropes^a| trails after him ^|ain a long tether^a|. After him toddles ^|aover rattling pebbles^a| an obese grandfather rat on fungous turtle legs under a deathgrey carapace^3| Tom Rochford, in cap, ^|3redbreasted^3| scarlet waistcoat and breeches, jumps out from his twocolumned machine. With a hand on his breast he bows)

Tom Rochford

^|3He fixes the manhole with a resolute stare^3| My turn now ^|3on^3|. ^|3Follow me^3| Up to Carlow. ^|3Reuben J. A florin I find him!^3|

(He executes a ^|3bold daredevil^3| salmon leap in the air and disappears down a coalhole. At the top of each column of the machine two discs, marked with the figure nought, wobble their eyes.

All recedes. Bloom goes forward again. Kisses are chirped to him. A piano sounds. He stands before a house listening. The kisses^|3, winging from their bower,^3| fly about him twittering, warbling, cooing)

The Kisses

(warbling) Leo! (twittering) Icky licky micky sticky for Leo! (cooing) Coo coocoo! Yummyum womwom! (warbling) Big, come big! Pirouette! ^|3Leopopold!^3| (twittering) Leeolee! (warbling) O, Leo!

^|3(they warble, flutter upon his garments in ^|alight^a| flecks of light, silver sequins)^3|

Bloom

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

(Zoe Higgins, a young whore in a sapphire slip, closed with ^|3two three^3| bronze buckles, nods, trips down the steps and accosts him.)

Zoe

Are you looking for someone? He's inside with his friend.

Bloom

Is this Mrs Mack's?

Zoe

No, Mrs Cohen's. ^|381^3| You might go farther and fare worse. ^|3(familiarly)^3| Mother Slipperslapper. She's on the job tonight with her ^|3swellmobsman^3| auctioneer working overtime. ^|3(suspiciously)^3| You're not his father, are you?

Bloomº

O, no.

Zoe

I thought you were from your both being in black. ^|3|aThat's what thought did. What you can't do for me.^a| Have you any tickles tonight?^3|

^|3(^|aHis skin, alert, feels her fingertips approach.^a| Her hand slides on over his ^|aleft^a| thighs)

^|a(She puts it greedily into aº pocket. He regards her uneasily smiling)^a| May I? For keeps?^3|

(She ^|3takes links^3| his arm, cuddling him ^|3suppley^3|. Strange oriental music is played, note by note, slowly. He ^|3looks gazes^{3| |3}into her brown in the tawny crystal of her ^|aosprey^a| eyes^3| eyes, ringed with kohol. Gazelles are leaping, feeding on the mountains. Near are lakes. Black shadows of cedarforests file around them. Aroma rises, a strong hairgrowth of resin. It burns, the orient, a sky of sapphire, cleft by the bronze flight of eagles. Under it the womancity lies, nude, white, cool in luxury. A fountain murmurs among purple ^|3damask^3| roses. Mammoth roses murmur of scarlet winegrapes. A wine of shame, lust, blood exudes, strangely murmuring)

^|3Bloom

I never loved a dear gazelle But was sure to ….^3|

Zoe

^|3You'll know me the next time^3| (murmuring, her lips lusciously smeared with ^|3pomade salve^3| of swinefat and rosewater, in singsong with the music) Schorach ani wenowach, benoith Hierushaloim.

Bloom

^|3(fascinated)^3| I ^|3knew thought so^3|.

^|3Zoe

And you know what thought did?^3|

^|3Zoe

You know what thought did^3|

(^|3|xZ bites LB's ear^x|3| She smiles, showing her goldstopped teeth, sending out a cloying breath. The roses draw apart, disclose a sepulchre where lie the gold of kings, their mouldering bones)

Bloom

(mechanically caressing her left bub) Are you a Dublin girl?
{ms, 008}

Zoe

(catches a stray hair deftly and twists it to her coil) Not bloody much. I'm English. Have you a swaggerroot?

Bloomº

(as before) I rarely smoke, dear, I'm sorry. Cigar now and then. ^|3It's a childish device (lewdly) The mouth is better occupied than with a cylinder of rank grass.^{3| |3}(Suddenly in despair) Mankind is incorrigible. America, you know, ^|aSir Walter Raleigh brought^a| gave us the potato and tobacco, ^|aone^a| a food and ^|athe other^a| a poison ^|afor the ear, the eye, the heart, the memory, the ^|xvirile potency^x| all.^a| The latter came a hundred years before the famine. Suicide. All our habits. ^|aMachines, laboursaving, they called them once, to murder one another. Better invent a platewasher. Manufacturing ^|bmonsters juggernauts^b|.^a| Our lies. For instance romance about woman & man. Love. What is it. A cork and a bottle. It doesn't interest me.

(penitently) I am very disagreeable.^3| Where are you from? London?

Zoe

Hog's Norton. Where the pigs play the organs. ^|3(she holds his hand which is feeling for her nipple)^3| I say, Tommy Tittlemouse. Stop that ^|3(she holds his hand which is feeling for her nipple)^3| and begin worse. Have you cash for a short time? Ten shillings?

Bloom

(smiles, nods slowly) More, more.

Zoe

And more's mother? ^|3(patting him softhandedly ^|awith velvet paws^a|)^3| Coming into the ^|3|amusic pianola^a|3| room? ^|3and I'll peel off.^3|

^|3Bloom

Little laughing witch ^|ahand in hand^a|3|

(He stands awhile listening to the music, inhaling scents, seeing colours, feeling ^|3temptation ^|alured the lure^a| to doom^3|) Silent means consent.

^|3|aHe eyes the fluid slip^a| He counts her bronze buckles.

Love me. Love me not. Love me.^3|

(^|3He hesitates, unwilling to be seen.^{3| |3|x}She places her left hand^x| With little ^|aparted^a| fingers talons she captures his hand^3| She leads him to the steps, drawing him by the odour of her armpits, the vice of her painted eyes, the rustle of her slip in ^|3which whose sinuous folds^3| lurks the lion reek of all male brutes that have possessed her)

Theº Male Brutes

(^|3roaring faintly ^|aramping in their loosebox^a| faintly roaring^3|) Good!

(Zoe and Bloom reach the doorway where two sister whores are seated. They examine him curiously, lazily from under their pencilled brows and at last smile to his hasty bow)

Bloom

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

Zoe

Ladies first, gentlemen after.

(She goes into the house. He still hesitates. She turns and, holding out her hands, draws him over the threshold. ^|3He trips. ^|aShe Her adroit hold blank^a| saves him instantly.

^3| On the antlered hatrack ^|3dragon stick^3| in the hall hangs a man's strawhat. ^|3Parrot perched in hall.^{3| |3}On a gueridon a running fox with blank displays his coat and brush and mild spaniel eyes.^3| A door on the return landing is flung open. A man in shirt and trousers passes. His braces, dangling, give him the gait of a twotailed ape. Bloom, averting his face, follows Zoe into the parlour. ^|3He lays his hat on a chair and stands, smiling awkwardly, sometimes preoccupied.^3| A shade of mauve tissuepaper dims the light. Round and round a moth flies collding against the shade. ^|3The floor is ^|acovered stamped^a| with a linoleum mosaic of jade and ver azure and cinnabar geometries. Footmarks are stamped upon it in all senses, heel to heel, heel to hollow, toe to toe, ^|aheels feet^a| locked, a morris of shuffling ^|afeet phantoms^a|, diversing, setting to, all in a scrimmage, higgledypiggledy.^3| On the mantelshelf lie two large China dogs. On the flanks of each is painted a woodland glade. Between them stands a vase of peacock feathers. In the grate is spread a Japanese parasol screen. Lynch sits crosslegged before the hearth on a rug of matted hair. His cap is back to the front. With a wand he beats time slowly to the music. Kitty Ricketts, a bony pallid whore in street costume, ^|3sued doeskin gloves rolled back & coral wristlet with a chain purse,^3| sits on the edge of a table, swinging her leg. Lynch indicates mockingly the couple at the piano)

Kittyº

(behind her hand) She's a little imbecillic (Lynch tilts up her skirt and white petticoat with his wand.) She settles her skirt down quickly) Respect yourself. (She hiccups, bending quickly her sailor hat under which her hair glows, red with henna) O, excuse!

Zoe

More limelight, Charley (she goes to the chandelier and turns the gas fullº cock) Clap on the back for Zoe.

(The wand in Lynch's hand flashes: it is a brass poker. Stephen Dedalus stands by the piano on which lie his ashplant and stick. He repeats once more the series of empty fifths. Florrie Talbot, a blond feeble goosefat whore in a tatterdemalion gown of mildewed strawberry, lolls spreadeagle in a sofacorner, ^|3her limp forearm pendent over the bolster,^3| listening, a heavy stye drooping over her sleepyº eyelid)

Kitty

(hiccups again) O, excuse.

Zoe

(promptly) Tie a knot on the tail of your shift. ^|3Your boy is thinking of you.^3|

(Kitty Ricketts bends her head again quickly. A feather boa uncoils, slides, glides over her shoulder, back, arms, chair to the ground. It lies, a coiled unheeded catterpillar. Stephen glances behind at the squatted figure with its cap back to the front)

Stephen

As a matter of fact it is of no importance whether Benedetto Marcello found it or made it. The rite is the poet's rest. It may be an ancient Greek song to Demeter or it may illustrate the eighteenth psalm Coeli enarrant gloriam Domini. It is susceptible of nodes, I mean of modes so far apart as the hyperphrygian and the mixolydian, of texts so divergent as the haihooping of priests round David's, round Ceres', altar and David's tip from the stable to his chief bassoonist concerning God's glory: Mais, nom d'un nom, that is another pair of trousers, as they say in France. Faut que jeunesse se passe. ^|3Jetez votre gourme.^3| (He stops, points at Lynch's cap, smiles, laughs) Which side is your knowledge bump?

The Cap

Bah! It is because. It is because it is. Woman's reason. Jewgreek is greekjew. Extremes meet. Death is the highest form of life. Bah!

Stephen

You remember quite accurately all my little errors, boasts, mistakes. How long more must I close my eyes to your disloyalty, to his. Whetstone!

The Cap

Bah!

Stephen

Here is another. (He frowns) The reason is. Because theº fundamental and the dominant areº separated by the greatest possible interval which ….

The Cap

Which? Finish if you can.

Stephen

(with an effort) Interval which is. The greatest possible elipse. Consistent
{ms, 009}
with. The ultimate return. Octave. Which.

The Cap

(interested) Which?

Stephen

(abruptly) What went forth to traverse not itself, God, the sun, a commercial traveller, having itself traversed in reality itself becomes that self. Wait a moment. Wait a second. That self which it itself was ineluctably preconditioned to become. I mean …

Lynch

(^|3in with^3| a mocking whinny of laughter, grins at Zoe Higgins) What a learned speech, eh?

Zoe

(briskly) God help your head. He knows more than you have forgotten.

(Florrie Talbot with obese stupor regards Stephen)

Florrie

But what does it all mean? Everything. What is it?

Stephen

It is the system of Antisthenes the embittered and Saint Thomas Porcupine (delighted with his own politeness) He asked himself that very question. ^|3You are a person for me not necessarily a neuter substantive though you are a bad conductor of emotions.^3|

Florrie

(to her sister whores) They say the end of the world will be this summer.

^|3Kitty

No!^3|

Zoe

(explodes in laughter) Great unjust God!

Florrie

(slightly offended) Well, it was in the papers.

^|3Ragged barefoot newsboys ^|arun patter^a| past, yelling)

Stop press edition! Result of the Rockinghorse Races! Seaserpent in the royal canal! ^|a|bSafe^b| Arrival of Antichrist.^a|3|

^|3(^|aThe wandering jew^a| Reuben J ^|aAntichrist^a|, tall, blackbearded, ^|aspinecurved^{a| |a}his a^a| clutching hand open on his spine back, stumps forward. ^|aA wallet of Across his shoulders is slung a wallet from which protrude promissory notes & dishonoured bills.^a| As a pilgrim's staff he holds up aloft over his shoulder a long boatpole from the crook ofº which the sodden huddled mass of his only son, saved from Liffey waters, sprawls from the slack of its breeches)^3|

(A hobgoblin, in the form of Punch Costello ^|3with &un2023dAlly Sloper nose^3|, hipshot, crookbacked, hydrocephalic, prognatic ^|3with receding brow^3| tumbles through a gathering darkness with a hop, step and jump.

All

Who is this? A kangaroo? ^|3Contortionist.^3|

(The hobgoblin, ^|3puffing^3| his eyes blindfolded, ^|3runs ^|asuddenly^a| capers^3| to and fro, squeaking, ^|3rubber^3| hopping with outstretched clutching arms. His lipless face grins ^|3wagging between the fork of his legs^3|)

The Hobgoblin

^|3(his jaw chattering)^3| Messieurs et dames, c'est moi, l'homme qui rit, l'homme primigène (He begins to whirl round with dervish howls) Sieurs et dames, faites vos jeux! (tiny planets in the form of coloured roulette balls fly whizzing out of his ^|3juggling catching^3| hands) ^|3La jeu est fait. Les jeux sont faits.^3| (The roulette planets rush together with a series of crepitant cracks) Rien va plus. ^|3(The planets, buoyant balloons, sail swollen up and away)^3|

Florrie

(in dull stupor) The end of the world.

(A female tepid effluvium leaks out from her, obfuscating the sight of all, redolent of her oozing sex. ^|3The obscurity of the last day Obscurity^3| occupies space). A rocket rushes up the universe and bursts, ^|3A white star falls from it and glides through space. Behind each stands a dark watchful young man who gives to each a throwaway —^3| proclaiming the last day ^|3and the coming of Elijah^3|. Whirring, creakily ^|3along an infinite invisible tightrope taut from zenith to nadir^3| the End of the World, a twoheaded octopus in highland ^|3gillie's^3| kilts, busby and filibegs careers whirling ^|3head over heels^3| through the murk in the form of the Three Legs of the Isle of Man)

The End Of The World

(with a marked Scotch accent) Wha'll dance the keel row, the keel row, the keel row?

(^|3Elijah's voice Elijah, in shirtsleeves, perspiring, appears in a brass rostrum. He thumps the parapet and^3|, harsh as a corncrake's, ^|3is heard jars^3| on high)

Elijah

Just one word more. ^|3|aJake Crane, Creole Sue, ^|bDave Campbell, Abe Kirschner,^b|a| No yapping please inº this booth. ^|aDo your coughing with your mouths shut.^{a| |x}Here, I am operating all ^|atrunk^a| lines. The non-stop run.^x|3| Are you a god or a clod? ^|3|xIf the 2nd Advent come to Tyrone street are you ready?^x|3| Florrie Christ, Stephen Christ, Zoe Christ, Bloom Christ, Lynch Christ, Kitty Christ, it's up to you to sense that cosmic force. ^|3Boys, do it now. Book through to eternity junction, ^|aRush your order ^|band ^|cyou'll you^c| play a slick ace^b|.^a|3| Are you all in this vibration? ^|3I say you are.^3| Join on right ^|3now here^3|. ^|3You have that something within, the Higher Self^3| Be a prism. You once nobble that, congregation, and a ^|3two buck^3| joyride to heaven becomes a back number. It is immense. ^|3It is sumptious Supersumptious^3|. ^|3|aIt's just the cutest snappiest line out.^a| It's a lifebrightener, sure. ^|aIt is the whole pie with jam in^a|3| It restores. It vibrates. I know and I am some vibrator. Joking apart ^|3& getting down to bedrock^3|, A J Christ Dowie and theº harmonial philosophy. ^|3address Buildings, 777 East Sixty Ninth street,^3| Have you got that? Right! ^|3O.K.^3| You call me up by sunphone any old time.

Stephenº

In the beginning was the word. ^|3Our world's a novelette. In the end was the world ^|awithout end^a|. Blessed be the eight ^|abeatitudes Beatitudes^a|, who are the students Dixon, Madden.

^|a(incoherently)^a| Beer beef ^|abusiness bulliness^a| bibles ^|abulldogs battleship buggery bishops^a|3|

Lyster

(appears in quaker grey with kneebreeches and broadbrimmed hat) Se He is our friend. I need not mention names. Seek the light.

(Best enters in barber's costume, shinily laundered, with ^|3curly^3| locks ^|3in curlpapers^3|. He leads John Eglinton ^|3|xchinless^x| in Chinese ^|amandarin^a| costume ^|a_unreadlettered ^|bbeetlettered lizardlettered^{b|a| |a|b}black Am yellow^b|a| kimono and ^|amandarin's pagoda^a| hat^3| who ^|3has a pinkstriped bib wears a Nankin yellow blank^3| tucked under his chin. His face is profusely lathered. His hair bristles with brilliantine)

Best

(smiling ^|3lifts the hat and reveals aº shaven poll ^|afrom the crown of which rises a bristling toupee tied with an orange ^|bbow topknot^b|a|3|) I was just beautifying him, don't you know. A thing of beauty, don't you know, Yeats says, or I mean, Keats.

John Eglinton

(produces a greencapped dark lantern from under his bib and flashes it towards a corner ^|3with carping accent^3|) Esthetics and cosmetics are for the boudoir. I am out for truth. Plain truth for a plain man. Tanderagee wants the truth and means to get it ^|3too^3|.

(In the cone of the ^|3lanternlight searchlight^3| the bearded figure of Mananaun macLir rises. A cold seawind blows from his mantle. About his head eels writhe. He is encrusted with limpets, barnacles, shells and seaweed. His right grasps a bicycle pump. In his left hand he holds a huge crayfish by its two talons)

Mananaun MacLir

(with a voice of waves) Aum! ^|3|xHel Wal Ak Lub Mor Ma.^x|3| White yoghin of the gods! Occult Pimander of Hermes Trismegistos! (with a voice of the seawind) Punarjanam Patsy Punjaub! ^|3I won't have my leg pulled^{3| |3}It has been said by one^3| Beware the left, the cult of Shakti! (with a voice of stormbirds) Shakti Shiva! (He strikes with his bicycle pump the crayfish in its left hand. On its cooperative dial glow
{ms, 010}
the twelve signs of the zodiac. He wails with the vehemence of the ocean) Aum! Baum! Pyjaum! I am the light of the homestead! I am the creamery butter!

(The green light changes to mauve. Zoe's face emerges under the lamp)

Zoe

Who has a fag? (Lynch offers her a cigarette. Sheº stretches up to light it over the gasjet. With his poker he lifts up a side of her gown boldly. Bare from her garters up her flesh appears beneath the sapphire a lizard green.)

Zoe

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

Lynch

I'm not looking. ^|3Seeing is believing.^3|

Zoe

^|3(makes great eyes)^3| No. You wouldn't do a less thing. Would you suck a lemon?

(She ^|3glances ^|acloses her eyes in shame and then^a| squints^3| with sidelong meaning at Bloom, then twists round towards him ^|3pulling her gown^3| clear of the poker. ^|3Her gown ^|afalls, falling, flows^a| about her flesh in fluid folds. The blue fluid of her gown glows again, covering her flesh.^3| Kitty Ricketts licks her middle finger and smooths both eyebrows carefully with her spittle. ^|3On gawky pink stilts ^|x|asausaged^a| several coats^x| struts^{3| |3}Litpold Lipoti^3| Virag, Bloom's double, wearing Stephen's hat, Buck Mulligan's primrose vest and a brown mackintosh under which he hugs two ancient ^|3legal^3| volumes stands somewhat to Bloom's left ^|3|xCashel Boyle O——^x| In his right eye flashes the angry eyeglass of Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell. Two quills project over his ears.^3|)

Virag

^|3(heels together, bows) My name is Virag ^|aLipoti, basilico-grammate^a|.^3| (coughs ^|3thoughtfully^3|, points to Zoe Higgins and says drily) A lot of promiscuous nakedness ^|3knocking about is much in evidence hereabouts^3|, what? ^|3You perceive Inadvertently she has revealed the fact^3| that she is not wearing ^|3what you like so much those ^|arather intimate^a| garments ^|aof which you are a particular devotee^a|3| Number two on the other hand ^|3whose hair owes not a little to our tribal elixir of gopherwood^3| is in walking costume and I always understood that the act so performed ^|3with glimpses of lingerie^3| attracted you by reason of its exhibitionistic procedure. Am I right? ^|3Hippogriff.^3|

Bloom

(looks at Kitty Ricketts) But she is lean.

Virag

(not unpleasantly). Well observed. And those pannier pockets of the skirtsº ^|3& slightly pegtop effect^3| are intended to give the ^|3illusion blank^3| of ^|3breath bunchiness^3| of hip. All meretricious finery to deceive the eye. ^|3She has ^|ajust unnecessarily urgently^a| bought it. Observe her close attention to details of dustspecks. Some mug ^|agull^a| paid was mulched for its price. Never put on you tomorrow what you can wear today. Parallax. Polysyllabax.^3|

Bloom

She ^|3is seems^3| sad.

Virag

(cynically ^|3his weasel teeth bared yellow^3|) A hoax. Beware of ^|3flappers and^3| the ^|3bogus^3| mournful ^|3languid unsophisticated^3| type, lily of the alley. ^|3Chameleon^3| (more genially) Well then, ^|3permit me to draw your attention^{3| |3}the third no 3 on the list^{3| |3}with the ^|amass of^a| oxygenated ^|ahair vegetable matter^a| on her skull^3|. ^|3There is plenty of her^3| Although the ugly duckling of the party her beam is broad. She is coated with quite a considerable layer of fat. ^|3Obviously mammal,^3| You perceive ^|3remark^3| that she has in front ^|3|xwell to the fore^x|3| two protuberances of respectable dimensions while on her rere lower down are two other protuberances which leave nothing to be desired except compactness. Such ^|3fleshy parts^3| women are the products of careful nurture. When coopfattened their livers attainº an elephantine size. Pellets of new bread with fennygreek and gumbenjamin swamped down by draughts of green tea endow them with natural cushions of a quite colossal blubber. ^|3The sensitivity is blunt but as you may discover with a pin.^3| That suits your book, eh?

Bloom

The stye I dislike.

Virag

(^|3raises arches^3| his eyebrows) Contact with a goldring, they say. For the rest woman's sovereign remedy. ^|3Not for sale, for hire only. Huguenot.^3| (with an encouraging cough) But possibly it is only a wart. I presume you remember what I told you on that subject. Wheatenmeal with honey and nutmeg.

Bloom

(reflecting) ^|3It This searching ordeal^3| has been a fatiguing, a most unusual day. ^|3|xchapter of accidents^x|3| Wait. Bloodwarts, I mean, wartsblood spreads warts, youº said. ^|3He stands smiling desiriously, twirling his thumbs^3|

Virag

(severely) Exercise your mnemotechnic. Stop twirling yr thumbs.

Bloom

^|3Was I?^{3| |3}Did I understand you to say^3| Rosemary also. Mnemo?

Virag

Technic (he taps his volumes energetically) ^|3Have a good think. I am going to talk about amputation. ^|aThis book tells you how to act with all descriptive particulars.^a| Our old friend^3| Caustic. They must be starved. Snip off with a horsehair under the denned neck. But to change the venue have you made up your mind yet whether you like or dislike women in male costume? ^|3Pomegranate.^3| (with a dry ^|3sneer snigger^3|) You intended one entire year to the study of the religious problem ^|3|x1866 1882^x| square circle & win that million^3|. From the sublime to the ridiculous is but a step. Pyjamas, let us say, or those complicated combinations, camiknickers.

(Bloom looks uncertainly at the three whores, then at the mauveveiled light, hearing the everflying moth. Virag, turning the pages of his volumes, prompts into his ear in a pig's whisper. Bloom repeats here and there with silent lips)

Virag

^|3(his yellow parrotbeak gabbling nasally ^|ahis glowworm's chimp nose running over the letters^a|)^3| Insects of the day spend their brief existence chiefly in reiterated coition. The smell of the female lures them^|3, you shall find^3|. ^|3|aPretty Poll^{a|3| |3}One recalls the They have a proverb in the Carpathians. One tablespoonful of ^|a|bchoice ^|cfirst choice^c|b|a| honey attracts more flies than half a dozen barrels of first choice malt vinegar. But this apart.^3| But night insects like this one, which follow light follow an illusion. ^|3|xTechnic^{x|3| |3}Remember too their complex unajustable eye.^{3| |3|x}Some there are whose^x|3| Their movements are automatic. They no longer pursue, seize and fecundate the female. ^|3Pretty Poll.^{3| |3}What ho, she bumps!^{3| |3}See. Perceive.^3| That is his sun, a midnight sun. It suits him. Nightbird nightsun. ^|3Chase me, Charley. Jimmy sitting knitting in her chinashop. Jimmy shitting knitting knittinshitten in her chinashop. Garn!^3| (Still turning the pages he whispers more loudly and rapidly) ^|3Metempsychosation!^3|

Bloomº

(repeats). Yes. That bee too the other day was butting against his shadow on the wall. Finally he dazed himself and drowsed me. Then in a dazed condition he wandered down into my shirt and reached my belly. Yes, it was well I awoke.
{ms, 011}

Viragº

(his face impassive laughs in a rich feminine key) ^|3Spanish fly in his fly.^3| Put some life in it. ^|3Red bank oysters will ^|asoon shortly^a| be upon us. These succulent bivalves and the truffle are excellent for general debility. Though they stink yet they sting.^{3| |3}(with mali ^|acackling^a| raillery) Jocular. With my eyeglass in my ocular.^3|

Bloom

Naturally a woman's case is worse. That is why they fear all vermin, all creeping things. They feel themselves always open. Yet we have Eve and the serpent. One of those contradictions. Well, first of all, it is not a historical fact. Also the reason is obvious. Those serpents too are gluttons for woman's milk. Wind their way through miles of forest to suck her breast dry. Just like a baby.

Virag

(^|3cranes his neck forward^3| his finger pointed on a page) Cows with distended udders have been known.

Bloom

I beg your pardon? Ah. So. Spontaneously to seek out the saurian's lair in order to entrust their teats to his avid suction. (profoundly) Instinct leads us all. In life. Death too. That moth there.

The Moth

I'm a tiny tiny thing
Ever flying in the spring
Round and round a ringaring.
Long ago I was a king
Now I do this sort of thing
On the wing, on the wing.
Bing!
(He rushes against the red mauve tissuepaper, flapping noisily)
Pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty petticoats.

(^|3From left upper entrance with two gliding steps^3| Henry Flower ^|3stands ^|aglides forward comes^a| noiselessly to left front centre^3| on Bloom's right. He unread wears a drooping black sombrero and a black velvet cloak under which he holds a dulcimer. He wears black velvet hose, stockings and shoes with silver buckles. He has the romantic saviourlike facial expression, trimmed beardº and moustache, spindle legs and pointed feet of the tenor Mario, prince of Candia. He touches softly seven notes of his instrument)

Henry

(in a low voice) ^|3All is lost now
There is a flower that bloometh.
When autumn leaves are shed.^3|

^|3Virag

(gratingly) See Se el yilo nebrakada femininum amor me solo, sanktus Amen^3|

(Virag stares at the lamp. Bloom regards Zoe's neck. Henry turns to the piano)

Stephen

(to himself) ^|3Imitate pa.^3| Play the piano with your eyes shut. ^|3Imitate pa.^{3| |3|a}Filling my belly with the husks of swine. I will arise & go to my father's^a|3| Steve, thou art in a parlous way. I am partially drunk (he touchesº the keys again) ^|3Minor chord comes now, yes.^3| Not much however. ^|3Sing.^3|

(Almidano Artifoni holds up a roll of music with vigorous black moustachework)

^|3Florrie Power

Sing us ^|aa song something^a|. Love's old sweet song.^3|

Artifoni

Ci rifletta. Lei rovina tutto.

Stephen

No voice. Lynch, who was it did I show you the letter about the lute?

Florrie

(smirking) The bird that can sing and won't sing.

(^|3Two Oxford Dons ^|xBack to back,^x| the Siamese Twins^3|, Philip Drunk and Philip Sober, ^|3Oxford dons,^3| each masked with Matthew Arnold's face, each with a lawnmower, appear at the window)

Philip Sober

(severely) Take a fool's advice. Work it out with the buttend of a pencil. Three pounds twelve you got. Mooney's en Ville, Mooney's sur Mer, the Moira, Larchet's, Holles street hospital, Burke's. Eh? I am watching you.

Philip Drunk

(impatiently) Ah, ^|3nonsense bosh^3|, man. Go to hell. If I could find out about octaves. Who was it told me his name? (his lawnmower begins to hum) Aha! Yes. Zoe, mou sas agapo. Have a notion I was here before. ^|3I expect this is the.^3| Decidedly. When was it, not Atkinson, his card I have somewhere, Mac Somebody, Unmock, I have it, he told me about, hold on, Swinburne, was it, no.

Florrie

And the song.

Stephen

The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.

Florrieº

Are you out of Maynooth?

Stephen

Out of it now. (to himself) Clever. By the way, have you the clock, the watch, the stick? (he sees it). Yes.

^|3|aFlorrie

(their mowers purring ^|awith rigadoon grasshalms^a|) ^|aKeep in condition. Do like us.^a| Clever ^|aever^a|. Out of it out of it. By the way have you the clock, the watch, the stick? Yes, there it, yes.^3|

Zoe

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

Virag

(harshly^|3, his multicoloured plumage moulting^3|) ^|3|xTo hell with the pope^x|3| Nothing new under the sun. Read ^|3my Sex Secrets^3| The Monks and the Maidens. ^|3(with diabolic rictus ^|xluminosity^{x| |a}blackvisaged a foam of yellow spawn on his blackening visage^a|) ^|xA son of a whore^{x| |x}She sold ^|alove philtres^a| whitewax ointments, orangeflower lotions.^x| Verfluchte Goim. ^|aFlipperty Jippert.^{a| |a}He never existed. He was Judas Jacchia paid by the pope.^a| He had a father, forty fathers. Panther the Roman ^|asoldier centurion^a|, ^|ahaving proposed ^|bat the _unreadello^b| polluted her^a| burst her tympanum

^3| Do as you please but ^|3face facts look facts in the face^3|. ^|3Apocalypse.^3| Good night. (He retires to the door) ^|3and deftly ^|ain going^a| claps sideways on the wall a pusyellow flybill

(at the door, opens his flat yellow nosebeak) Quack! (he disappears)^3|

Henry

(his hand on his head) ^|3There is peace in a nunnery.
Thine heart, mine love.
All is lost now.^3|

(He combs his ^|3hair,^3| beard and moustache rapidly with a pocket comb ^|3gives a cow's lick to his locks,^3| and follows Virag quietly ^|3steered by his rapier^3|

^|3|xExeunt severally.^x|3|

Bloom

(to Zoe) I hope you gave his reverence ^|3your^3| absolution.

^|3Lynch

Nine glorias for shooting a bishop.^3|

Zoe

(spouting her smoke) He couldn't get connection. Only, you know. Sensation. A dry rush.

Bloom

(involuntarily) O! Poor man!

Zoe

(lightly) Only for what happened him.

^|3Stephen

The flesh is willing but the spirit is weak.^3|

Kitty

And Mary Shortall that was in the Lock with the pox she got from Jimmy Pidgeon, corporal in the blue caps. And she had a bastard that couldn't swallow and died strangled.

^|3Lynch

(gently) Such is life in an outhouse.^a|3|
{ms, 012}

Florrie

(nods) That's locomotor ataxy.

Zoe

(mockingly) O, my dictionary! My fellow puffed like a locomotive.

Stephen

(over his shoulder) You would have preferredº the founder of the protestant error.

Zoeº

All one and the same God to me.

Lynch

(devoutly) Sovereign Lord of all things. (to Florrie Talbot indicating Stephen) Beware of him. He's a spoiled priest.

Florrie

That so?

Lynch

Yes. A cardinal's son.

Stephen

Cardinal sin.

(His Eminence, cardinal Simon ^|3Stephen cardinal^3| Dedalus, appears in the doorway. He is all in red, hat, soutane, shoesº and socks. Seven dwarf acolytes, the seven cardinal sins, also in red, hold up his train, peeping under it. He wears a battered silk hat sideways on his head. His thumbs are stuck in his armpits and the palms outspread. Round his neck hangs a rosary of corks ending on his breast in a corkscrew cross. ^|3Invoking grace from on high with ^|aa^a| large wave gesture he^3| He proclaims with bloated pomp.)

The Cardinal

Conservio lies captured
He lies in the lowest dungeons
With manacles and chains around his limbs
Weighing upwards of three tons.
(He looks at all for a moment, his right eye closed tight, his left cheek puffed out. Then, unable to repress his merriment ^|3|xarms akimbo^x|3| he rocks to and fro and sings with broad rollicking humour)
O, the poor little fellow
He he he he his legs they were yellow
He was plump, fat and heavy and brisk as a snake
But some bloody savage
To graize his white cabbage
He murdered Nell Flaherty's duckloving drake
(He scratches himself with crossed arms at his ribs, grimacing sourly) ^|3By the hoky fiddle^3| Thanks be to Jesus, those ^|3jokers funny little ^|afellows chaps^a|3| are not unanimous. If they were they'd walk me off the face of the bloody earth.

(^|3Wi Head aslant he blesses curtly with fore and middle fingers^3| He ^|3double^3| shuffles off comically, swaying his head from side to side, shrinking quickly to the size of his trainbearers. The dwarf acolytes giggling, peeping, nudging, ogling, zigzag behind him.

Bloom advances and, taking the chocolate from his pocket, offers it to Zoe Higgins)

Zoeº

^|3(Snaps a piece)^3| O, thank your mother for unread the rabbits. I'm very fond of what I like. (She tears open the silver paper) Fingers were made before forks (She breaks the cake and nibbles offering a piece to Kitty Ricketts who chews and sucks. To Lynch ^|3invitingly kittenishly^3|) No objection to French lozenges (He nods. She taunts him ^|3kittenishly^3|) Will you have it now or wait till you get it (He opens his mouth) Catch! (She tosses him a piece of chocolate which he catches ^|3deftly adroitly^3| in his mouth and chews. Kitty Ricketts offers a piece to Bloom. He declines, then accepts but does not eat)

Bloom

^|3No, thanks (he takes it)^3| What if it were aphrodisiac? ^|3Tansy & pennyroyal^3| But no, I bought it. Vanilla too is a sedative. Mnemotechnic. Possibly confused light confuses the memory. Seems to influence the taste of this chocolate. Influence of colour. Red influences lupus, I think. Lupus, yes. Mnemo. And encourages hypocondriasis. Choice of colours is important therefore, suggestive. The character of women, any they have, is largely influenced by the line, style and texture of their clothes. My black figure here is too sad. Let me eat and rejoice (smiling, he eats the tablet) Or is it because I haven't tasted chocolate for a long time. It seems new. Aphrodisiac. Serious thing that about theº priest. Must come some day. Better late that never. Tomorrow I shall look for truffles.

(^|3Firm clacking heels are heard.^3| Bella Cohen, a massive whoremistress, enters the room. She is dressed in a threequarter ivoryº gown, fringed round the hem with tasselled selvedge and ^|3carries flaunts^3| a black horn fan which she flutters like Minnie Hauck in Carmen. Her eyes are deeply carboned. She has a sprouting moustache. Her face is heavy, fullnosed ^|3with orangetainted nostrils^3|, olivehued. She has large pendent beryl eardrops)

Bella

My word! I'm all of a mucksweat.

(She glances round her at the couples. Then her eyes rest on Bloom with hard ^|3evil^3| insistence. Her large fan winnows wind towards her face and neck and rising bosom. Her falcon eyes glitter)

The Fan

(flirting quickly, then slowly) Married, I see.

Bloom

Yes, married.

The Fan

(half opening and closing) And the missus is master, I think. Petticoat government.
{ms, 013}

Bloom

(looks down ^|3sheepishly with a sheepish grin^3|) That is so.

The Fan

(closing together, rests against her left eardrop) Have you forgotten me?

Bloom

^|3(his head against his left eardrop)^3| Nes. Yo.

The Fan

(folded akimbo against her waist)
^|3Is this was as you thought before? ^|aIs was this as you dreamed before? Is me was you her dreamed before?^a|3|
|3Was she then what you since here knew? ^|aWas then she what you since here knew? Was then she him you ^|bus^b| since ^|bus^b| knew?^a|3|
|3Am all one and the same now me? Am all them and the same now me?^3|

Bloom

(with profound humility) Powerful being! In my eyes read that slumber which women love. Absolutely unlimited is the submission of my soul. Awe and despair possess me.

(Bella approaches silently, tapping her fan. Bloom winces at her approach.)

Bloom

(as she stands beside him) ^|3(cowed) Exuberant female,^3| Enormously I desiderate your domination. But I fear. I am alone, exhausted,º abandoned, no more young. ^|3I stand^|a, so to speak,^a| withº an unposted letter ^|abearing the late fee^a| before the Too Late Box of the General Post Office of Life.^3| The door and window open in a right line cause a draught of thirtytwo feet per second according to the law of falling bodies. I have felt a twinge of sciatica in my left glutear muscle. ^|3I should not have parted with my talisman. ^|aIt runs in the family. My father^|b, when a widower,^b| believed sometimes slept with ^|bhis the^b| faithful Athos. ^|bHe told me that of King David & the Sunamite^b| Animal heat. ^|banimal health ^|cas you probably know the saliva of a dog. Ah! ^|dBut that you know best yrself.^d| (again)^c|b| He had also a catskin waistcoat.^a|3| The rain. Long exposure on the rocks in the late dewy evening may have brought it on at my age. Would, O would, I were young again! Queen, marvellous commanding woman, restore to me my youth! ^|3(^|ahe feels her heavy face, her eyes strike him in midbrow^a| his eyes grow pouched, his nose thickens etc …)^3| O embrace allround everywhere of universal womanlihood! I will eat my life from your royal hands. Feed me abundantly, monarch, with miracleworking truffles!

^|3(He perceives that her shoelace is unfastened. She The fan rests against her left palm).

(bungling at the knot) A moment. ^|aCrosslaced^a| (he glances up) Too tight?º Not to put ^|athe lace it^a| in the wrong eyelet like I did the night of the bazaar dance with the person you mentioned. Hook in wrong tache of her. Bad luck. Now!^3|

Bella

(with a hard ^|3basilisk^3| stare ^|3in a baritone voice^3|) Hound of dishonour!

Bloom

Empress!

Bella

^|3(^|aher his^a| heavy cheekchops sagging)^3| Adorer of the adulterous rump!

Bloom

(^|3fascinated infatuated^3|) Hugeness!

Bella

Dungdevourer!

Bloom

^|3O, magnificence! Magmagnificence!^3|

Bella

(tips ^|3him her^3| on the shoulder with her fan) Down!

Bloom

(with a piercing epileptic cry ^|3|ahis her^a| eyes upturned, closing^3|) Truffles!

^|3Bella

Incline feet forward! Slide left foot one pace back! On the hands down.^3|

(He sinks ^|3forward^3| on all fours, grunting, snuffling, rooting at her feet. ^|3Then lies quiet, shamming dead ^|abut with trembling eyelids^a|3|)º