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(Aº nymph, with hair unbound, lightly clad in teabrown artcolours, advances from her grotto and passing under interlacing yews, stands over Bloom. She stands and looks down at him with Marion's glances but softer.

The Yews

(their leaves whispering together) Sister. Our sister. Ssh!

^|3Bloom

^|a(crawling jellily)^a| I am in this position you see. I felt it was expected of me.^3|

The Nymph

(softly) Mortal (he tries to lift his head) Mortal, you found me in evil company ^|3|xin tidbits^x|3|, highkickers, coster picnicmakers, pugilists, popular generals and immortal immoral panto favourites, ^|3fleshpink^{3| |3}the nifty shimmy dancers,^3| La Amora and Karini ^|3the hit of the century^3|, on cheap paper that smelt of petroleum. I was surrounded by the stale jokes of clubmen, pointless anecdotes to disturb the emotions of raw adults, and advertisements for transparencies, ^|3proprietary articles, trusses for rupture,^3| and ^|3rubber goods truedup dice & bustpads^3|.

^|3Bloomº

(sadly) ^|aHighclass, neverrip brand, as supplied to the aristocracy^a| Rubber goods literature. I cure fits or money refunded. My bust developed four inches, report Mrs Gus Rublin. Corsets for men.^3|

Bloomº

You mean in Photo Bits?

Theº Nymph

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

Bloom

(tenderly) I did. Because you were beautiful, O immortal. My eyes were glad to look upon you. I longed to praise you and to pray

The Nymph

During the dark night I heard another praise.

Bloom

(quickly) Yes, yes. ^|3And one night I fell out of bed. I was pushed.^3| Sleep reveals the worst aspect of everybody, children perhaps excepted. Steelwine is said to cure snoring. For the rest there is that English invention the Wonderworker the pamphlet of which I received some days ago. ^|3It claims to afford a noiseless and inoffensive vent.^3| (he sighs) 'Twas ever thus. Frailty, thy name is marriage.

The Yews

Ssh!

The Nymph

(places her little fingers in her ears) And words also. Spoken (she bends her head) Which are not in the dictionary.

Bloom

(hesitates) No? But you understood them?

The Nymph

(covers her face with her hands) And what have I not seen in that chamber! What must my eyes look down on!

Bloom

(apologetically) I know. I quite understand. The quoits are loose. Soiled personal linen also, wrong side up with care. Sh? Yes. ^|3They came from Gibraltar by long sea lon years ago.^{3| |3}That antiquated commode. Its collapse was due to want of glue in the joints, general age, not to any excessive weight of hers. She was just 12 stone 4. ^|aShe didn't break It wasn't her weight broke^a| it really for she was barely 12 st. 4. It was due to a crack and want of glue.^3| And that absurd ^|3porcelain orangekeyed^3| utensil which has only one handle.

^|3(The sound of a waterfall is heard in ^|aclear bright^a| cascade)

Poulaphouca poulaphouca
Poulaphouca poulaphouca^3|

The Nymph

Worse. Still worse.

The Yews

(mingling their boughs, whispering) Listen. Whisper. She is right, our sister. We grew by Poulaphouca waterfall. We gave shade on langourous summer days.

John Wyse Nolan

(in the background in Irish national forester's uniform doffs his plumed hat) Prosper! Give shade on languorousº days, trees of Ireland!

The Yews

(murmuring) Who came to Poulaphouca with the high school ^|3leaving^3| excursion? Who left his comrades to seek our shade?

^|3Bloomº

Sham.^3|

Bloom

(nervously) I was ^|3only sixteen in my teens^3|. Even A ^|3jolting car little^3| then sufficed ^|3a jolting car, the throng on the theatre stairs ^|aBut they like crushes, instinct of the herd.^a| a pricelist of ladies' hosiery.^3| And then the heat. The sunspots that summer. ^|3End of school.^3| The tipsycake.

^|3|xHalcyon Days

Live us again^x|3|

The Yews

(rustling) She is right, our sister. Whisper. ^|3(Faces of hamadryads peep out from the boles and l among the leaves) ^|x(they break in flower^x|)^3| Who profaned our silent shade?

The Nymph

(coyly), through parting fingers) There? In the open air?

The Yews

(sweeping downward) Sister, yes. And on our virgin sward.

^|3The Waterfall

Poulaphouca poulaphouca
Phoucaphouca phoucaphouca^3|

The Nymph

(parting her fingers wide) O, infamy!

Bloom

^|3in a nondescript breeches suit too small for him, white shoes, bordered stockings, and a red schoolcap with badge)^3| Youth. ^|3Pairing time.^3| A natural phenomenon. The flesh. The image of ^|3flaxenhaired^3| Lotty Clarke seen ^|3with operaglasses^3| through the curtains at her night toilette. ^|3It is simply capillary attraction^3| Besides, that day no-one saw.º

(^|3Staggering Bob^3| A calf thrusts a ^|3ruminating^3| white ^|3hornless polled^3| head through the foliage)

^|3The Calf Staggering Bob^3|

Me. ^|3me^3| It was shown to ^|3me^3|. ^|3But I Me^3| was too young to understand.

^|3(a nannygoat passes ^|ahigh on Ben Howth ^|bover rhododendrons^b| by rhododendrons^a| plumpuddered, buttytailed, dropping currants)

Far out in the bay beyond the Lion's Head, ^|abetween Bailey and Kish lights^a| the Erin's King sails. ^|aCouncillor Nannetti stands alone, in dark alpaca, yellowfaced as a kite. His hand in his vest he watches the broadening plume of smoke broadening from the funnel, and reads the words: Ireland, a Nation^a|3|

(His Honour, Sir Frederick Falkiner, recorder of Dublin, in judicial garb appears seated under the yewtrees ^|3|xstonebearded, stonefeatured, unmovable^x|3| ) He bears in his arms an umbrella sceptre. ^|3From his brow rises the Mosaic ^|aram's^a| horns)^3|

The Recorder

(^|3hotly terribly^3|) ^|3Disgraceful!^3| A most scandalous corruption of minors. Let him be taken from the place where he now stands or crawls and detained in Mountjoy
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prisonº during His Majesty's pleasure. Scandalous! ^|3(a black cap descends on his head)^{3| |3}And may the Lord have mercy and therein fail not at your peril^3|.

^|3(H. Rumbold, master barber, creeps out of the undergrowth ^|aon all fours, his hands knobly with knuckledusters^a|. He wears a bloodcoloured jerkin ^|a& ^|bred tanner's^b| apron^a| and ^|ahas^{a| |a}has a nailstudded bludgeon stuck in his belt^a| a rope coiled overº his shoulder)

^|a(to the recorder)^a| Hanging Harry, your Majesty, the Mersey terror. Five guineas a ^|atime jugular^a|.^3|

Bloom

(earnestly ^|3deferently^3|) Believe me. I respect true modesty, rich and rare. Once in the monkey house in the Zoo a girl was watching a lewd chimpanzee, her hand crossed at her pelvic basin. I stood. I looked, I stared with intention. But, believe me, her deep artless blush unmanned me. (I turned away and left the precincts. ^|3I assure you I could not even discern the animal's gender.^3|

The Recorder

(blows his nose, tearfully) Poor calf! So to blast all her future life! To cast that shadow over her cowhood.

^|3The Calf Staggering Bob^3|

(mournfully) I never reached the age of cowhood. I ate the yewleaves. I died poisoned in my prime.

(Two globes of tears roll slowly from the prominent eyes)

The Nymph

(Assuming the form of a poor old woman, a milkcan on her arm, keening) To have seen what I have seen! (she assumes the form of a queen, young and haughty) ^|3To^3| See what I have seen! (she assumes the form of a madonna in blue and white with joined hands and downcast eyes) A shame in my sight (she assumes the form of a young girl with a plait of yellow hair) Das unbeschreiblich, hier ist's getan

Bloom

(abjectly, pawing the ground) Yes, yes, yes, yes. Enemas too I have administered. One third of a pint of infusion of quassia to which a tablespoonful of rocksalt has been added.

The Nymph

In my presence! ^|3(blushingly)^3| And the rest!

Bloom

^|3Yes, yes,^3| I admit it. I have paid homage where the back changes name. It overpowers me.

^|3The Voice of Kittyº

blank^3|

Even to sit where a woman was lately seated, especially with divaricated thighs, ^|3& most especially with previously well uplifted ^|aivorylined^a| coatpans,^3| diffuses through me immense ^|3warm^3| satisfaction. I find ^|3it so full^3|, so characteristic of the female body. ^|3So full. It fills me full.^3|

^|3The Waterfall

Fillafulla poulaphouca
Poulaphouca poulaphouca^3|

The Yews

Ssh! Sister, speak!

The Nymph

(withdraws her hands slowly and reveals her face, pale, within a nun's wimple) low and softly) But the face is the mirror of the female soul. Tranquilla convent. Feast of Mount Carmel. ^|3No desires and no desirer. The ethereal. ^|aShe stands naked before him)^a| Sister Mary Gabriel.^3| Tenderness. Love. Beauty. Purity.

Bloom

(Starts suddenly to his feet) ^|3You have destroyed the charm

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Begone! ^|3Nag me no more^3| You are no immortal. Omelette without eggs. ^|3As if you didn't get double pleasure yourself.^3| (he grasps her hand firmly within the folds of her garment) Fair play, madam. I see your pruning knife too. What? The fox and sour grapes, is it? (She vanishes. He calls after her loudly) We pay on the nail for what little we get. The labourer is worthy of his stud fee.

^|3(He puts his hand to his haunch) Ah! That twinge again.

(^|astamping across the room, bagweighted, murmurs^a|) Mocking is catch. Best value in Dub. Fit for a prince's, Steak and kidney.^3|

(Theº figure of Bella Cohen stands before ^|3him Bloom^3|)

^|3Bloom^3|

You are passée, I see. Ss. ^|3Long in the tooth.^{3| |3}Esthetically ^|awith your superfluous hair^a| your ^|aeyes orbs^{a| |a}as vapid as the glass eyes of that stuffed fox you have^a| have little or no expression. They have the dimensions of your other features. That is all. ^|aTake some double chin drill, I advise you.^a|3|

Bella

(comfortably) Which of yous was playing the dead march?

Zoeº

Me. Ever see me running? Mind your cornflowers (she darts to the piano and plays banged chords on the keyboard with crossed arms)

Lynch

Beethoven.

Zoe

The cat's rambles through the slag. (darting back as suddenly to the table) Eh? Who's making love to my sweeties. What's yours is mine and what's mine is my own

(she grabs the last of the chocolate. Kitty, disconcerted, coats her teeth with the silver paper)º

Bloom

(gently) Give me back that potato, will you?

Zoe

(tossing her head) Give Forfeits. ^|3Fine thing & a superfine thing^3| What's yours is mine & what's mine is my own.
Give a thing and take it back
God'll ask you where is that?
You'll say you don't know
God'll send you down below.

^|3Bloom

To have or not to have that is the question.^3|

Kitty

^|3No^3| Give a thing and take it back
Never go to God again
See a man, behind the chapel ^|3church^3|
Washing his hands in a bowl of blood