15. Circe
Link every word (may take a few seconds)
[19846][ 15 ]
[19847]
[19848](The Mabbot street entrance of nighttown, before which stretches
[19849]an uncobbled tramsiding set with skeleton tracks, red and green
[19850]will-o’-the-wisps and danger signals. Rows of grimy houses with gaping
[19851]doors. Rare lamps with faint rainbow fans. Round Rabaiotti’s halted
[19852]ice gondola stunted men and women squabble. They grab wafers between
[19853]which are wedged lumps of coral and copper snow. Sucking, they scatter
[19854]slowly. Children. The swancomb of the gondola, highreared, forges on
[19855]through the murk, white and blue under a lighthouse. Whistles call and
[19856]answer.)
[19857]
[19858]THE CALLS: Wait, my love, and I’ll be with you.
[19859]
[19860]THE ANSWERS: Round behind the stable.
[19861]
[19862](A deafmute idiot with goggle eyes, his shapeless mouth dribbling, jerks
[19863]past, shaken in Saint Vitus’ dance. A chain of children ’s hands
[19864]imprisons him.)
[19865]
[19866]THE CHILDREN: Kithogue! Salute!
[19867]
[19868]THE IDIOT: (Lifts a palsied left arm and gurgles.) Grhahute!
[19869]
[19870]THE CHILDREN: Where’s the great light?
[19871]
[19872]THE IDIOT: (Gobbling.) Ghaghahest.
[19873]
[19874](They release him. He jerks on. A pigmy woman swings on a rope slung
[19875]between two railings, counting. A form sprawled against a dustbin and
[19876]muffled by its arm and hat snores, groans, grinding growling teeth, and
[19877]snores again. On a step a gnome totting among a rubbishtip crouches
[19878]to shoulder a sack of rags and bones. A crone standing by with a smoky
[19879]oillamp rams her last bottle in the maw of his sack. He heaves his
[19880]booty, tugs askew his peaked cap and hobbles off mutely. The crone
[19881]makes back for her lair, swaying her lamp. A bandy child, asquat on the
[19882]doorstep with a paper shuttlecock, crawls sidling after her in spurts,
[19883]clutches her skirt, scrambles up. A drunken navvy grips with both hands
[19884]the railings of an area, lurching heavily. At a corner two night watch
[19885]in shouldercapes, their hands upon their staffholsters, loom tall. A
[19886]plate crashes: a woman screams: a child wails. Oaths of a man roar,
[19887]mutter, cease. Figures wander, lurk, peer from warrens. In a room lit by
[19888]a candle stuck in a bottleneck a slut combs out the tatts from the
[19889]hair of a scrofulous child. Cissy Caffrey’s voice, still young, sings
[19890]shrill from a lane.)
[19891]
[19892]CISSY CAFFREY:
[19893]
[19894] I gave it to Molly
[19895] Because she was jolly,
[19896] The leg of the duck,
[19897] The leg of the duck.
[19898](Private Carr and Private Compton, swaggersticks tight in their oxters,
[19899]as they march unsteadily rightaboutface and burst together from their
[19900]mouths a volleyed fart. Laughter of men from the lane. A hoarse virago
[19901]retorts.)
[19902]
[19903]THE VIRAGO: Signs on you, hairy arse. More power the Cavan girl.
[19904]
[19905]CISSY CAFFREY: More luck to me. Cavan, Cootehill and Belturbet. (She
[19906]sings.)
[19907]
[19908] I gave it to Nelly
[19909] To stick in her belly,
[19910] The leg of the duck,
[19911] The leg of the duck.
[19912](Private Carr and Private Compton turn and counterretort, their tunics
[19913]bloodbright in a lampglow, black sockets of caps on their blond cropped
[19914]polls. Stephen Dedalus and Lynch pass through the crowd close to the
[19915]redcoats.)
[19916]
[19917]PRIVATE COMPTON: (Jerks his finger.) Way for the parson.
[19918]
[19919]PRIVATE CARR: (Turns and calls.) What ho, parson!
[19920]
[19921]CISSY CAFFREY: (Her voice soaring higher.)
[19922]
[19923] She has it, she got it,
[19924] Wherever she put it,
[19925] The leg of the duck.
[19926](Stephen, flourishing the ashplant in his left hand, chants with joy the
[19927]introit for paschal time. Lynch, his jockeycap low on his brow, attends
[19928]him, a sneer of discontent wrinkling his face.)
[19929]
[19930]STEPHEN: Vidi aquam egredientem de templo a latere dextro. Alleluia.
[19931]
[19932](The famished snaggletusks of an elderly bawd protrude from a doorway.)
[19933]
[19934]THE BAWD: (Her voice whispering huskily.) Sst! Come here till I tell
[19935]you. Maidenhead inside. Sst!
[19936]
[19937]STEPHEN: (Altius aliquantulum.) Et omnes ad quos pervenit aqua ista.
[19938]
[19939]THE BAWD: (Spits in their trail her jet of venom.) Trinity medicals.
[19940]Fallopian tube. All prick and no pence.
[19941]
[19942](Edy Boardman, sniffling, crouched with Bertha Supple, draws her shawl
[19943]across her nostrils.)
[19944]
[19945]EDY BOARDMAN: (Bickering.) And says the one: I seen you up Faithful
[19946]place with your squarepusher, the greaser off the railway, in his
[19947]cometobed hat. Did you, says I. That’s not for you to say, says I.
[19948]You never seen me in the mantrap with a married highlander, says I. The
[19949]likes of her! Stag that one is! Stubborn as a mule! And her walking with
[19950]two fellows the one time, Kilbride, the enginedriver, and lancecorporal
[19951]Oliphant.
[19952]
[19953]STEPHEN: (Triumphaliter.) Salvi facti sunt.
[19954]
[19955](He flourishes his ashplant, shivering the lamp image, shattering light
[19956]over the world. A liver and white spaniel on the prowl slinks after him,
[19957]growling. Lynch scares it with a kick.)
[19958]
[19959]LYNCH: So that?
[19960]
[19961]STEPHEN: (Looks behind.) So that gesture, not music not odour, would be
[19962]a universal language, the gift of tongues rendering visible not the lay
[19963]sense but the first entelechy, the structural rhythm.
[19964]
[19965]LYNCH: Pornosophical philotheology. Metaphysics in Mecklenburgh street!
[19966]
[19967]STEPHEN: We have shrewridden Shakespeare and henpecked Socrates. Even
[19968]the allwisest Stagyrite was bitted, bridled and mounted by a light of
[19969]love.
[19970]
[19971]LYNCH: Ba!
[19972]
[19973]STEPHEN: Anyway, who wants two gestures to illustrate a loaf and a jug?
[19974]This movement illustrates the loaf and jug of bread or wine in Omar.
[19975]Hold my stick.
[19976]
[19977]LYNCH: Damn your yellow stick. Where are we going?
[19978]
[19979]STEPHEN: Lecherous lynx, to la belle dame sans merci, Georgina Johnson,
[19980]ad deam qui laetificat iuventutem meam.
[19981]
[19982](Stephen thrusts the ashplant on him and slowly holds out his hands, his
[19983]head going back till both hands are a span from his breast, down turned,
[19984]in planes intersecting, the fingers about to part, the left being
[19985]higher.)
[19986]
[19987]LYNCH: Which is the jug of bread? It skills not. That or the
[19988]customhouse. Illustrate thou. Here take your crutch and walk.
[19989]
[19990](They pass. Tommy Caffrey scrambles to a gaslamp and, clasping, climbs
[19991]in spasms. From the top spur he slides down. Jacky Caffrey clasps to
[19992]climb. The navvy lurches against the lamp. The twins scuttle off in the
[19993]dark. The navvy, swaying, presses a forefinger against a wing of his
[19994]nose and ejects from the farther nostril a long liquid jet of snot.
[19995]Shouldering the lamp he staggers away through the crowd with his flaring
[19996]cresset.
[19997]
[19998]Snakes of river fog creep slowly. From drains, clefts, cesspools,
[19999]middens arise on all sides stagnant fumes. A glow leaps in the south
[20000]beyond the seaward reaches of the river. The navvy, staggering forward,
[20001]cleaves the crowd and lurches towards the tramsiding. On the farther
[20002]side under the railway bridge Bloom appears, flushed, panting, cramming
[20003]bread and chocolate into a sidepocket. From Gillen’s hairdresser’s
[20004]window a composite portrait shows him gallant Nelson’s image. A
[20005]concave mirror at the side presents to him lovelorn longlost lugubru
[20006]Booloohoom. Grave Gladstone sees him level, Bloom for Bloom. He passes,
[20007]struck by the stare of truculent Wellington, but in the convex mirror
[20008]grin unstruck the bonham eyes and fatchuck cheekchops of Jollypoldy the
[20009]rixdix doldy.
[20010]
[20011]At Antonio Rabaiotti’s door Bloom halts, sweated under the bright
[20012]arclamp. He disappears. In a moment he reappears and hurries on.)
[20013]
[20014]BLOOM: Fish and taters. N. g. Ah!
[20015]
[20016](He disappears into Olhausen’s, the porkbutcher’s, under the
[20017]downcoming rollshutter. A few moments later he emerges from under
[20018]the shutter, puffing Poldy, blowing Bloohoom. In each hand he holds
[20019]a parcel, one containing a lukewarm pig’s crubeen, the other a cold
[20020]sheep’s trotter, sprinkled with wholepepper. He gasps, standing
[20021]upright. Then bending to one side he presses a parcel against his ribs
[20022]and groans.)
[20023]
[20024]BLOOM: Stitch in my side. Why did I run?
[20025]
[20026](He takes breath with care and goes forward slowly towards the lampset
[20027]siding. The glow leaps again.)
[20028]
[20029]BLOOM: What is that? A flasher? Searchlight.
[20030]
[20031](He stands at Cormack’s corner, watching.)
[20032]
[20033]BLOOM: Aurora borealis or a steel foundry? Ah, the brigade, of course.
[20034]South side anyhow. Big blaze. Might be his house. Beggar’s bush.
[20035]We’re safe. (He hums cheerfully.) London’s burning, London’s
[20036]burning! On fire, on fire! (He catches sight of the navvy lurching
[20037]through the crowd at the farther side of Talbot street.) I’ll miss
[20038]him. Run. Quick. Better cross here.
[20039]
[20040](He darts to cross the road. Urchins shout.)
[20041]
[20042]THE URCHINS: Mind out, mister!
[20043]
[20044](Two cyclists, with lighted paper lanterns aswing, swim by him, grazing
[20045]him, their bells rattling.)
[20046]
[20047]THE BELLS: Haltyaltyaltyall.
[20048]
[20049]BLOOM: (Halts erect, stung by a spasm.) Ow!
[20050]
[20051](He looks round, darts forward suddenly. Through rising fog a dragon
[20052]sandstrewer, travelling at caution, slews heavily down upon him,
[20053]its huge red headlight winking, its trolley hissing on the wire. The
[20054]motorman bangs his footgong.)
[20055]
[20056]THE GONG: Bang Bang Bla Bak Blud Bugg Bloo.
[20057]
[20058](The brake cracks violently. Bloom, raising a policeman’s whitegloved
[20059]hand, blunders stifflegged out of the track. The motorman, thrown
[20060]forward, pugnosed, on the guidewheel, yells as he slides past over
[20061]chains and keys.)
[20062]
[20063]THE MOTORMAN: Hey, shitbreeches, are you doing the hat trick?
[20064]
[20065](Bloom trickleaps to the curbstone and halts again. He brushes a
[20066]mudflake from his cheek with a parcelled hand.)
[20067]
[20068]BLOOM: No thoroughfare. Close shave that but cured the stitch. Must take
[20069]up Sandow’s exercises again. On the hands down. Insure against street
[20070]accident too. The Providential. (He feels his trouser pocket.) Poor
[20071]mamma’s panacea. Heel easily catch in track or bootlace in a cog. Day
[20072]the wheel of the black Maria peeled off my shoe at Leonard’s corner.
[20073]Third time is the charm. Shoe trick. Insolent driver. I ought to report
[20074]him. Tension makes them nervous. Might be the fellow balked me this
[20075]morning with that horsey woman. Same style of beauty. Quick of him all
[20076]the same. The stiff walk. True word spoken in jest. That awful cramp in
[20077]Lad lane. Something poisonous I ate. Emblem of luck. Why? Probably lost
[20078]cattle. Mark of the beast. (He closes his eyes an instant.) Bit light
[20079]in the head. Monthly or effect of the other. Brainfogfag. That tired
[20080]feeling. Too much for me now. Ow!
[20081]
[20082](A sinister figure leans on plaited legs against O’Beirne’s wall,
[20083]a visage unknown, injected with dark mercury. From under a wideleaved
[20084]sombrero the figure regards him with evil eye.)
[20085]
[20086]BLOOM: Buenas noches, señorita Blanca, que calle es esta?
[20087]
[20088]THE FIGURE: (Impassive, raises a signal arm.) Password. Sraid Mabbot.
[20089]
[20090]BLOOM: Haha. Merci. Esperanto. Slan leath. (He mutters.) Gaelic league
[20091]spy, sent by that fireeater.
[20092]
[20093](He steps forward. A sackshouldered ragman bars his path. He steps left,
[20094]ragsackman left.)
[20095]
[20096]BLOOM: I beg.
[20097]
[20098](He leaps right, sackragman right.)
[20099]
[20100]BLOOM: I beg.
[20101]
[20102](He swerves, sidles, stepaside, slips past and on.)
[20103]
[20104]BLOOM: Keep to the right, right, right. If there is a signpost planted
[20105]by the Touring Club at Stepaside who procured that public boon? I who
[20106]lost my way and contributed to the columns of the Irish Cyclist the
[20107]letter headed In darkest Stepaside. Keep, keep, keep to the right. Rags
[20108]and bones at midnight. A fence more likely. First place murderer makes
[20109]for. Wash off his sins of the world.
[20110]
[20111](Jacky Caffrey, hunted by Tommy Caffrey, runs full tilt against Bloom.)
[20112]
[20113]BLOOM: O.
[20114]
[20115](Shocked, on weak hams, he halts. Tommy and Jacky vanish there, there.
[20116]Bloom pats with parcelled hands watch, fobpocket, bookpocket, pursepoke,
[20117]sweets of sin, potato soap.)
[20118]
[20119]BLOOM: Beware of pickpockets. Old thieves’ dodge. Collide. Then snatch
[20120]your purse.
[20121]
[20122](The retriever approaches sniffing, nose to the ground. A sprawled form
[20123]sneezes. A stooped bearded figure appears garbed in the long caftan
[20124]of an elder in Zion and a smokingcap with magenta tassels. Horned
[20125]spectacles hang down at the wings of the nose. Yellow poison streaks are
[20126]on the drawn face.)
[20127]
[20128]RUDOLPH: Second halfcrown waste money today. I told you not go with
[20129]drunken goy ever. So you catch no money.
[20130]
[20131]BLOOM: (Hides the crubeen and trotter behind his back and, crestfallen,
[20132]feels warm and cold feetmeat.) Ja, ich weiss, papachi.
[20133]
[20134]RUDOLPH: What you making down this place? Have you no soul? (With feeble
[20135]vulture talons he feels the silent face of Bloom.) Are you not my son
[20136]Leopold, the grandson of Leopold? Are you not my dear son Leopold who
[20137]left the house of his father and left the god of his fathers Abraham and
[20138]Jacob?
[20139]
[20140]BLOOM: (With precaution.) I suppose so, father. Mosenthal. All that’s
[20141]left of him.
[20142]
[20143]RUDOLPH: (Severely.) One night they bring you home drunk as dog after
[20144]spend your good money. What you call them running chaps?
[20145]
[20146]BLOOM: (In youth’s smart blue Oxford suit with white vestslips,
[20147]narrowshouldered, in brown Alpine hat, wearing gent’s sterling silver
[20148]waterbury keyless watch and double curb Albert with seal attached, one
[20149]side of him coated with stiffening mud.) Harriers, father. Only that
[20150]once.
[20151]
[20152]RUDOLPH: Once! Mud head to foot. Cut your hand open. Lockjaw. They make
[20153]you kaputt, Leopoldleben. You watch them chaps.
[20154]
[20155]BLOOM: (Weakly.) They challenged me to a sprint. It was muddy. I
[20156]slipped.
[20157]
[20158]RUDOLPH: (With contempt.) Goim nachez! Nice spectacles for your poor
[20159]mother!
[20160]
[20161]BLOOM: Mamma!
[20162]
[20163]ELLEN BLOOM: (In pantomime dame’s stringed mobcap, widow Twankey’s
[20164]crinoline and bustle, blouse with muttonleg sleeves buttoned behind,
[20165]grey mittens and cameo brooch, her plaited hair in a crispine net,
[20166]appears over the staircase banisters, a slanted candlestick in her hand,
[20167]and cries out in shrill alarm.) O blessed Redeemer, what have they done
[20168]to him! My smelling salts! (She hauls up a reef of skirt and ransacks
[20169]the pouch of her striped blay petticoat. A phial, an Agnus Dei, a
[20170]shrivelled potato and a celluloid doll fall out.) Sacred Heart of Mary,
[20171]where were you at all at all?
[20172]
[20173](Bloom, mumbling, his eyes downcast, begins to bestow his parcels in his
[20174]filled pockets but desists, muttering.)
[20175]
[20176]A VOICE: (Sharply.) Poldy!
[20177]
[20178]BLOOM: Who? (He ducks and wards off a blow clumsily.) At your service.
[20179]
[20180](He looks up. Beside her mirage of datepalms a handsome woman in Turkish
[20181]costume stands before him. Opulent curves fill out her scarlet trousers
[20182]and jacket, slashed with gold. A wide yellow cummerbund girdles her. A
[20183]white yashmak, violet in the night, covers her face, leaving free only
[20184]her large dark eyes and raven hair.)
[20185]
[20186]BLOOM: Molly!
[20187]
[20188]MARION: Welly? Mrs Marion from this out, my dear man, when you speak to
[20189]me. (Satirically.) Has poor little hubby cold feet waiting so long?
[20190]
[20191]BLOOM: (Shifts from foot to foot.) No, no. Not the least little bit.
[20192]
[20193](He breathes in deep agitation, swallowing gulps of air, questions,
[20194]hopes, crubeens for her supper, things to tell her, excuse, desire,
[20195]spellbound. A coin gleams on her forehead. On her feet are jewelled
[20196]toerings. Her ankles are linked by a slender fetterchain. Beside her
[20197]a camel, hooded with a turreting turban, waits. A silk ladder of
[20198]innumerable rungs climbs to his bobbing howdah. He ambles near with
[20199]disgruntled hindquarters. Fiercely she slaps his haunch, her goldcurb
[20200]wristbangles angriling, scolding him in Moorish.)
[20201]
[20202]MARION: Nebrakada! Femininum!
[20203]
[20204](The camel, lifting a foreleg, plucks from a tree a large mango fruit,
[20205]offers it to his mistress, blinking, in his cloven hoof, then droops his
[20206]head and, grunting, with uplifted neck, fumbles to kneel. Bloom stoops
[20207]his back for leapfrog.)
[20208]
[20209]BLOOM: I can give you... I mean as your business menagerer... Mrs
[20210]Marion... if you...
[20211]
[20212]MARION: So you notice some change? (Her hands passing slowly over her
[20213]trinketed stomacher, a slow friendly mockery in her eyes.) O Poldy,
[20214]Poldy, you are a poor old stick in the mud! Go and see life. See the
[20215]wide world.
[20216]
[20217]BLOOM: I was just going back for that lotion whitewax, orangeflower
[20218]water. Shop closes early on Thursday. But the first thing in the
[20219]morning. (He pats divers pockets.) This moving kidney. Ah!
[20220]
[20221](He points to the south, then to the east. A cake of new clean lemon
[20222]soap arises, diffusing light and perfume.)
[20223]
[20224]THE SOAP:
[20225]
[20226] We’re a capital couple are Bloom and I.
[20227] He brightens the earth. I polish the sky.
[20228](The freckled face of Sweny, the druggist, appears in the disc of the
[20229]soapsun.)
[20230]
[20231]SWENY: Three and a penny, please.
[20232]
[20233]BLOOM: Yes. For my wife. Mrs Marion. Special recipe.
[20234]
[20235]MARION: (Softly.) Poldy!
[20236]
[20237]BLOOM: Yes, ma’am?
[20238]
[20239]MARION: Ti trema un poco il cuore?
[20240]
[20241](In disdain she saunters away, plump as a pampered pouter pigeon,
[20242]humming the duet from Don Giovanni.)
[20243]
[20244]BLOOM: Are you sure about that Voglio? I mean the pronunciati...
[20245]
[20246](He follows, followed by the sniffing terrier. The elderly bawd seizes
[20247]his sleeve, the bristles of her chinmole glittering.)
[20248]
[20249]THE BAWD: Ten shillings a maidenhead. Fresh thing was never touched.
[20250]Fifteen. There’s no-one in it only her old father that’s dead drunk.
[20251]
[20252](She points. In the gap of her dark den furtive, rainbedraggled, Bridie
[20253]Kelly stands.)
[20254]
[20255]BRIDIE: Hatch street. Any good in your mind?
[20256]
[20257](With a squeak she flaps her bat shawl and runs. A burly rough pursues
[20258]with booted strides. He stumbles on the steps, recovers, plunges into
[20259]gloom. Weak squeaks of laughter are heard, weaker.)
[20260]
[20261]THE BAWD: (Her wolfeyes shining.) He’s getting his pleasure. You
[20262]won’t get a virgin in the flash houses. Ten shillings. Don’t be all
[20263]night before the polis in plain clothes sees us. Sixtyseven is a bitch.
[20264]
[20265](Leering, Gerty Macdowell limps forward. She draws from behind, ogling,
[20266]and shows coyly her bloodied clout.)
[20267]
[20268]GERTY: With all my worldly goods I thee and thou. (She murmurs.) You did
[20269]that. I hate you.
[20270]
[20271]BLOOM: I? When? You’re dreaming. I never saw you.
[20272]
[20273]THE BAWD: Leave the gentleman alone, you cheat. Writing the gentleman
[20274]false letters. Streetwalking and soliciting. Better for your mother take
[20275]the strap to you at the bedpost, hussy like you.
[20276]
[20277]GERTY: (To Bloom.) When you saw all the secrets of my bottom drawer.
[20278](She paws his sleeve, slobbering.) Dirty married man! I love you for
[20279]doing that to me.
[20280]
[20281](She glides away crookedly. Mrs Breen in man’s frieze overcoat
[20282]with loose bellows pockets, stands in the causeway, her roguish eyes
[20283]wideopen, smiling in all her herbivorous buckteeth.)
[20284]
[20285]MRS BREEN: Mr...
[20286]
[20287]BLOOM: (Coughs gravely.) Madam, when we last had this pleasure by letter
[20288]dated the sixteenth instant...
[20289]
[20290]MRS BREEN: Mr Bloom! You down here in the haunts of sin! I caught you
[20291]nicely! Scamp!
[20292]
[20293]BLOOM: (Hurriedly.) Not so loud my name. Whatever do you think of me?
[20294]Don’t give me away. Walls have ears. How do you do? It’s ages since
[20295]I. You’re looking splendid. Absolutely it. Seasonable weather we are
[20296]having this time of year. Black refracts heat. Short cut home here.
[20297]Interesting quarter. Rescue of fallen women. Magdalen asylum. I am the
[20298]secretary...
[20299]
[20300]MRS BREEN: (Holds up a finger.) Now, don’t tell a big fib! I know
[20301]somebody won’t like that. O just wait till I see Molly! (Slily.)
[20302]Account for yourself this very sminute or woe betide you!
[20303]
[20304]BLOOM: (Looks behind.) She often said she’d like to visit. Slumming.
[20305]The exotic, you see. Negro servants in livery too if she had money.
[20306]Othello black brute. Eugene Stratton. Even the bones and cornerman at
[20307]the Livermore christies. Bohee brothers. Sweep for that matter.
[20308]
[20309](Tom and Sam Bohee, coloured coons in white duck suits, scarlet socks,
[20310]upstarched Sambo chokers and large scarlet asters in their buttonholes,
[20311]leap out. Each has his banjo slung. Their paler smaller negroid hands
[20312]jingle the twingtwang wires. Flashing white Kaffir eyes and tusks they
[20313]rattle through a breakdown in clumsy clogs, twinging, singing, back to
[20314]back, toe heel, heel toe, with smackfatclacking nigger lips.)
[20315]
[20316]TOM AND SAM:
[20317]
[20318] There’s someone in the house with Dina
[20319] There’s someone in the house, I know,
[20320] There’s someone in the house with Dina
[20321] Playing on the old banjo.
[20322](They whisk black masks from raw babby faces: then, chuckling,
[20323]chortling, trumming, twanging, they diddle diddle cakewalk dance away.)
[20324]
[20325]BLOOM: (With a sour tenderish smile.) A little frivol, shall we, if you
[20326]are so inclined? Would you like me perhaps to embrace you just for a
[20327]fraction of a second?
[20328]
[20329]MRS BREEN: (Screams gaily.) O, you ruck! You ought to see yourself!
[20330]
[20331]BLOOM: For old sake’ sake. I only meant a square party, a mixed
[20332]marriage mingling of our different little conjugials. You know I had a
[20333]soft corner for you. (Gloomily.) ’Twas I sent you that valentine of
[20334]the dear gazelle.
[20335]
[20336]MRS BREEN: Glory Alice, you do look a holy show! Killing simply. (She
[20337]puts out her hand inquisitively.) What are you hiding behind your back?
[20338]Tell us, there’s a dear.
[20339]
[20340]BLOOM: (Seizes her wrist with his free hand.) Josie Powell that was,
[20341]prettiest deb in Dublin. How time flies by! Do you remember, harking
[20342]back in a retrospective arrangement, Old Christmas night, Georgina
[20343]Simpson’s housewarming while they were playing the Irving Bishop game,
[20344]finding the pin blindfold and thoughtreading? Subject, what is in this
[20345]snuffbox?
[20346]
[20347]MRS BREEN: You were the lion of the night with your seriocomic
[20348]recitation and you looked the part. You were always a favourite with the
[20349]ladies.
[20350]
[20351]BLOOM: (Squire of dames, in dinner jacket with wateredsilk facings, blue
[20352]masonic badge in his buttonhole, black bow and mother-of-pearl studs, a
[20353]prismatic champagne glass tilted in his hand.) Ladies and gentlemen, I
[20354]give you Ireland, home and beauty.
[20355]
[20356]MRS BREEN: The dear dead days beyond recall. Love’s old sweet song.
[20357]
[20358]BLOOM: (Meaningfully dropping his voice.) I confess I’m teapot with
[20359]curiosity to find out whether some person’s something is a little
[20360]teapot at present.
[20361]
[20362]MRS BREEN: (Gushingly.) Tremendously teapot! London’s teapot and I’m
[20363]simply teapot all over me! (She rubs sides with him.) After the parlour
[20364]mystery games and the crackers from the tree we sat on the staircase
[20365]ottoman. Under the mistletoe. Two is company.
[20366]
[20367]BLOOM: (Wearing a purple Napoleon hat with an amber halfmoon, his
[20368]fingers and thumb passing slowly down to her soft moist meaty palm which
[20369]she surrenders gently.) The witching hour of night. I took the splinter
[20370]out of this hand, carefully, slowly. (Tenderly, as he slips on her
[20371]finger a ruby ring.) Là ci darem la mano.
[20372]
[20373]MRS BREEN: (In a onepiece evening frock executed in moonlight blue, a
[20374]tinsel sylph’s diadem on her brow with her dancecard fallen beside
[20375]her moonblue satin slipper, curves her palm softly, breathing quickly.)
[20376]Voglio e non. You’re hot! You’re scalding! The left hand nearest the
[20377]heart.
[20378]
[20379]BLOOM: When you made your present choice they said it was beauty and
[20380]the beast. I can never forgive you for that. (His clenched fist at his
[20381]brow.) Think what it means. All you meant to me then. (Hoarsely.) Woman,
[20382]it’s breaking me!
[20383]
[20384](Denis Breen, whitetallhatted, with Wisdom Hely’s sandwichboards,
[20385]shuffles past them in carpet slippers, his dull beard thrust out,
[20386]muttering to right and left. Little Alf Bergan, cloaked in the pall of
[20387]the ace of spades, dogs him to left and right, doubled in laughter.)
[20388]
[20389]ALF BERGAN: (Points jeering at the sandwichboards.) U. p: up.
[20390]
[20391]MRS BREEN: (To Bloom.) High jinks below stairs. (She gives him the glad
[20392]eye.) Why didn’t you kiss the spot to make it well? You wanted to.
[20393]
[20394]BLOOM: (Shocked.) Molly’s best friend! Could you?
[20395]
[20396]MRS BREEN: (Her pulpy tongue between her lips, offers a pigeon kiss.)
[20397]Hnhn. The answer is a lemon. Have you a little present for me there?
[20398]
[20399]BLOOM: (Offhandedly.) Kosher. A snack for supper. The home without
[20400]potted meat is incomplete. I was at Leah, Mrs Bandmann Palmer. Trenchant
[20401]exponent of Shakespeare. Unfortunately threw away the programme.
[20402]Rattling good place round there for pigs’ feet. Feel.
[20403]
[20404](Richie Goulding, three ladies’ hats pinned on his head, appears
[20405]weighted to one side by the black legal bag of Collis and Ward on which
[20406]a skull and crossbones are painted in white limewash. He opens it
[20407]and shows it full of polonies, kippered herrings, Findon haddies and
[20408]tightpacked pills.)
[20409]
[20410]RICHIE: Best value in Dub.
[20411]
[20412](Bald Pat, bothered beetle, stands on the curbstone, folding his napkin,
[20413]waiting to wait.)
[20414]
[20415]PAT: (Advances with a tilted dish of spillspilling gravy.) Steak and
[20416]kidney. Bottle of lager. Hee hee hee. Wait till I wait.
[20417]
[20418]RICHIE: Goodgod. Inev erate inall...
[20419]
[20420](With hanging head he marches doggedly forward. The navvy, lurching by,
[20421]gores him with his flaming pronghorn.)
[20422]
[20423]RICHIE: (With a cry of pain, his hand to his back.) Ah! Bright’s!
[20424]Lights!
[20425]
[20426]BLOOM: (Points to the navvy.) A spy. Don’t attract attention. I hate
[20427]stupid crowds. I am not on pleasure bent. I am in a grave predicament.
[20428]
[20429]MRS BREEN: Humbugging and deluthering as per usual with your cock and
[20430]bull story.
[20431]
[20432]BLOOM: I want to tell you a little secret about how I came to be here.
[20433]But you must never tell. Not even Molly. I have a most particular
[20434]reason.
[20435]
[20436]MRS BREEN: (All agog.) O, not for worlds.
[20437]
[20438]BLOOM: Let’s walk on. Shall us?
[20439]
[20440]MRS BREEN: Let’s.
[20441]
[20442](The bawd makes an unheeded sign. Bloom walks on with Mrs Breen. The
[20443]terrier follows, whining piteously, wagging his tail.)
[20444]
[20445]THE BAWD: Jewman’s melt!
[20446]
[20447]BLOOM: (In an oatmeal sporting suit, a sprig of woodbine in the lapel,
[20448]tony buff shirt, shepherd’s plaid Saint Andrew’s cross scarftie,
[20449]white spats, fawn dustcoat on his arm, tawny red brogues, fieldglasses
[20450]in bandolier and a grey billycock hat.) Do you remember a long long
[20451]time, years and years ago, just after Milly, Marionette we called her,
[20452]was weaned when we all went together to Fairyhouse races, was it?
[20453]
[20454]MRS BREEN: (In smart Saxe tailormade, white velours hat and spider
[20455]veil.) Leopardstown.
[20456]
[20457]BLOOM: I mean, Leopardstown. And Molly won seven shillings on a three
[20458]year old named Nevertell and coming home along by Foxrock in that old
[20459]fiveseater shanderadan of a waggonette you were in your heyday then and
[20460]you had on that new hat of white velours with a surround of molefur that
[20461]Mrs Hayes advised you to buy because it was marked down to nineteen and
[20462]eleven, a bit of wire and an old rag of velveteen, and I’ll lay you
[20463]what you like she did it on purpose...
[20464]
[20465]MRS BREEN: She did, of course, the cat! Don’t tell me! Nice adviser!
[20466]
[20467]BLOOM: Because it didn’t suit you one quarter as well as the other
[20468]ducky little tammy toque with the bird of paradise wing in it that I
[20469]admired on you and you honestly looked just too fetching in it though
[20470]it was a pity to kill it, you cruel naughty creature, little mite of a
[20471]thing with a heart the size of a fullstop.
[20472]
[20473]MRS BREEN: (Squeezes his arm, simpers.) Naughty cruel I was!
[20474]
[20475]BLOOM: (Low, secretly, ever more rapidly.) And Molly was eating a
[20476]sandwich of spiced beef out of Mrs Joe Gallaher’s lunch basket.
[20477]Frankly, though she had her advisers or admirers, I never cared much for
[20478]her style. She was...
[20479]
[20480]MRS BREEN: Too...
[20481]
[20482]BLOOM: Yes. And Molly was laughing because Rogers and Maggot O’Reilly
[20483]were mimicking a cock as we passed a farmhouse and Marcus Tertius Moses,
[20484]the tea merchant, drove past us in a gig with his daughter, Dancer Moses
[20485]was her name, and the poodle in her lap bridled up and you asked me if I
[20486]ever heard or read or knew or came across...
[20487]
[20488]MRS BREEN: (Eagerly.) Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
[20489]
[20490](She fades from his side. Followed by the whining dog he walks on
[20491]towards hellsgates. In an archway a standing woman, bent forward, her
[20492]feet apart, pisses cowily. Outside a shuttered pub a bunch of loiterers
[20493]listen to a tale which their brokensnouted gaffer rasps out with raucous
[20494]humour. An armless pair of them flop wrestling, growling, in maimed
[20495]sodden playfight.)
[20496]
[20497]THE GAFFER: (Crouches, his voice twisted in his snout.) And when Cairns
[20498]came down from the scaffolding in Beaver street what was he after doing
[20499]it into only into the bucket of porter that was there waiting on the
[20500]shavings for Derwan’s plasterers.
[20501]
[20502]THE LOITERERS: (Guffaw with cleft palates.) O jays!
[20503]
[20504](Their paintspeckled hats wag. Spattered with size and lime of their
[20505]lodges they frisk limblessly about him.)
[20506]
[20507]BLOOM: Coincidence too. They think it funny. Anything but that. Broad
[20508]daylight. Trying to walk. Lucky no woman.
[20509]
[20510]THE LOITERERS: Jays, that’s a good one. Glauber salts. O jays, into
[20511]the men’s porter.
[20512]
[20513](Bloom passes. Cheap whores, singly, coupled, shawled, dishevelled, call
[20514]from lanes, doors, corners.)
[20515]
[20516]THE WHORES:
[20517]
[20518] Are you going far, queer fellow?
[20519] How’s your middle leg?
[20520] Got a match on you?
[20521] Eh, come here till I stiffen it for you.
[20522](He plodges through their sump towards the lighted street beyond. From a
[20523]bulge of window curtains a gramophone rears a battered brazen trunk. In
[20524]the shadow a shebeenkeeper haggles with the navvy and the two redcoats.)
[20525]
[20526]THE NAVVY: (Belching.) Where’s the bloody house?
[20527]
[20528]THE SHEBEENKEEPER: Purdon street. Shilling a bottle of stout.
[20529]Respectable woman.
[20530]
[20531]THE NAVVY: (Gripping the two redcoats, staggers forward with them.) Come
[20532]on, you British army!
[20533]
[20534]PRIVATE CARR: (Behind his back.) He aint half balmy.
[20535]
[20536]PRIVATE COMPTON: (Laughs.) What ho!
[20537]
[20538]PRIVATE CARR: (To the navvy.) Portobello barracks canteen. You ask for
[20539]Carr. Just Carr.
[20540]
[20541]THE NAVVY: (Shouts.)
[20542]
[20543] We are the boys. Of Wexford.
[20544]PRIVATE COMPTON: Say! What price the sergeantmajor?
[20545]
[20546]PRIVATE CARR: Bennett? He’s my pal. I love old Bennett.
[20547]
[20548]THE NAVVY: (Shouts.)
[20549]
[20550] The galling chain.
[20551] And free our native land.
[20552](He staggers forward, dragging them with him. Bloom stops, at fault. The
[20553]dog approaches, his tongue outlolling, panting.)
[20554]
[20555]BLOOM: Wildgoose chase this. Disorderly houses. Lord knows where they
[20556]are gone. Drunks cover distance double quick. Nice mixup. Scene at
[20557]Westland row. Then jump in first class with third ticket. Then too far.
[20558]Train with engine behind. Might have taken me to Malahide or a siding
[20559]for the night or collision. Second drink does it. Once is a dose.
[20560]What am I following him for? Still, he’s the best of that lot. If
[20561]I hadn’t heard about Mrs Beaufoy Purefoy I wouldn’t have gone and
[20562]wouldn’t have met. Kismet. He’ll lose that cash. Relieving office
[20563]here. Good biz for cheapjacks, organs. What do ye lack? Soon got,
[20564]soon gone. Might have lost my life too with that
[20565]mangongwheeltracktrolleyglarejuggernaut only for presence of mind.
[20566]Can’t always save you, though. If I had passed Truelock’s window
[20567]that day two minutes later would have been shot. Absence of body. Still
[20568]if bullet only went through my coat get damages for shock, five hundred
[20569]pounds. What was he? Kildare street club toff. God help his gamekeeper.
[20570]
[20571](He gazes ahead, reading on the wall a scrawled chalk legend Wet Dream
[20572]and a phallic design.) Odd! Molly drawing on the frosted carriagepane
[20573]at Kingstown. What’s that like? (Gaudy dollwomen loll in the lighted
[20574]doorways, in window embrasures, smoking birdseye cigarettes. The
[20575]odour of the sicksweet weed floats towards him in slow round ovalling
[20576]wreaths.)
[20577]
[20578]THE WREATHS: Sweet are the sweets. Sweets of sin.
[20579]
[20580]BLOOM: My spine’s a bit limp. Go or turn? And this food? Eat it and
[20581]get all pigsticky. Absurd I am. Waste of money. One and eightpence too
[20582]much. (The retriever drives a cold snivelling muzzle against his hand,
[20583]wagging his tail.) Strange how they take to me. Even that brute today.
[20584]Better speak to him first. Like women they like rencontres. Stinks like
[20585]a polecat. Chacun son goût. He might be mad. Dogdays. Uncertain in
[20586]his movements. Good fellow! Fido! Good fellow! Garryowen! (The wolfdog
[20587]sprawls on his back, wriggling obscenely with begging paws, his long
[20588]black tongue lolling out.) Influence of his surroundings. Give and have
[20589]done with it. Provided nobody. (Calling encouraging words he shambles
[20590]back with a furtive poacher’s tread, dogged by the setter into a dark
[20591]stalestunk corner. He unrolls one parcel and goes to dump the crubeen
[20592]softly but holds back and feels the trotter.) Sizeable for threepence.
[20593]But then I have it in my left hand. Calls for more effort. Why? Smaller
[20594]from want of use. O, let it slide. Two and six.
[20595]
[20596](With regret he lets the unrolled crubeen and trotter slide. The
[20597]mastiff mauls the bundle clumsily and gluts himself with growling greed,
[20598]crunching the bones. Two raincaped watch approach, silent, vigilant.
[20599]They murmur together.)
[20600]
[20601]THE WATCH: Bloom. Of Bloom. For Bloom. Bloom.
[20602]
[20603](Each lays hand on Bloom’s shoulder.)
[20604]
[20605]FIRST WATCH: Caught in the act. Commit no nuisance.
[20606]
[20607]BLOOM: (Stammers.) I am doing good to others.
[20608]
[20609](A covey of gulls, storm petrels, rises hungrily from Liffey slime with
[20610]Banbury cakes in their beaks.)
[20611]
[20612]THE GULLS: Kaw kave kankury kake.
[20613]
[20614]BLOOM: The friend of man. Trained by kindness.
[20615]
[20616](He points. Bob Doran, toppling from a high barstool, sways over the
[20617]munching spaniel.)
[20618]
[20619]BOB DORAN: Towser. Give us the paw. Give the paw.
[20620]
[20621](The bulldog growls, his scruff standing, a gobbet of pig’s knuckle
[20622]between his molars through which rabid scumspittle dribbles. Bob Doran
[20623]falls silently into an area.)
[20624]
[20625]SECOND WATCH: Prevention of cruelty to animals.
[20626]
[20627]BLOOM: (Enthusiastically.) A noble work! I scolded that tramdriver on
[20628]Harold’s cross bridge for illusing the poor horse with his harness
[20629]scab. Bad French I got for my pains. Of course it was frosty and the
[20630]last tram. All tales of circus life are highly demoralising.
[20631]
[20632](Signor Maffei, passionpale, in liontamer’s costume with diamond studs
[20633]in his shirtfront, steps forward, holding a circus paperhoop, a curling
[20634]carriagewhip and a revolver with which he covers the gorging boarhound.)
[20635]
[20636]SIGNOR MAFFEI: (With a sinister smile.) Ladies and gentlemen, my
[20637]educated greyhound. It was I broke in the bucking broncho Ajax with my
[20638]patent spiked saddle for carnivores. Lash under the belly with a knotted
[20639]thong. Block tackle and a strangling pulley will bring your lion
[20640]to heel, no matter how fractious, even Leo ferox there, the Libyan
[20641]maneater. A redhot crowbar and some liniment rubbing on the burning part
[20642]produced Fritz of Amsterdam, the thinking hyena. (He glares.) I possess
[20643]the Indian sign. The glint of my eye does it with these breastsparklers.
[20644](With a bewitching smile.) I now introduce Mademoiselle Ruby, the pride
[20645]of the ring.
[20646]
[20647]FIRST WATCH: Come. Name and address.
[20648]
[20649]BLOOM: I have forgotten for the moment. Ah, yes! (He takes off his high
[20650]grade hat, saluting.) Dr Bloom, Leopold, dental surgeon. You have heard
[20651]of von Blum Pasha. Umpteen millions. Donnerwetter! Owns half Austria.
[20652]Egypt. Cousin.
[20653]
[20654]FIRST WATCH: Proof.
[20655]
[20656](A card falls from inside the leather headband of Bloom’s hat.)
[20657]
[20658]BLOOM: (In red fez, cadi’s dress coat with broad green sash, wearing
[20659]a false badge of the Legion of Honour, picks up the card hastily and
[20660]offers it.) Allow me. My club is the Junior Army and Navy. Solicitors:
[20661]Messrs John Henry Menton, 27 Bachelor’s Walk.
[20662]
[20663]FIRST WATCH: (Reads.) Henry Flower. No fixed abode. Unlawfully watching
[20664]and besetting.
[20665]
[20666]SECOND WATCH: An alibi. You are cautioned.
[20667]
[20668]BLOOM: (Produces from his heartpocket a crumpled yellow flower.) This
[20669]is the flower in question. It was given me by a man I don’t know his
[20670]name. (Plausibly.) You know that old joke, rose of Castile. Bloom. The
[20671]change of name. Virag. (He murmurs privately and confidentially.) We
[20672]are engaged you see, sergeant. Lady in the case. Love entanglement.
[20673](He shoulders the second watch gently.) Dash it all. It’s a way we
[20674]gallants have in the navy. Uniform that does it. (He turns gravely to
[20675]the first watch.) Still, of course, you do get your Waterloo sometimes.
[20676]Drop in some evening and have a glass of old Burgundy. (To the second
[20677]watch gaily.) I’ll introduce you, inspector. She’s game. Do it in
[20678]the shake of a lamb’s tail.
[20679]
[20680](A dark mercurialised face appears, leading a veiled figure.)
[20681]
[20682]THE DARK MERCURY: The Castle is looking for him. He was drummed out of
[20683]the army.
[20684]
[20685]MARTHA: (Thickveiled, a crimson halter round her neck, a copy of the
[20686]Irish Times in her hand, in tone of reproach, pointing.) Henry! Leopold!
[20687]Lionel, thou lost one! Clear my name.
[20688]
[20689]FIRST WATCH: (Sternly.) Come to the station.
[20690]
[20691]BLOOM: (Scared, hats himself, steps back, then, plucking at his heart
[20692]and lifting his right forearm on the square, he gives the sign and
[20693]dueguard of fellowcraft.) No, no, worshipful master, light of love.
[20694]Mistaken identity. The Lyons mail. Lesurques and Dubosc. You remember
[20695]the Childs fratricide case. We medical men. By striking him dead with
[20696]a hatchet. I am wrongfully accused. Better one guilty escape than
[20697]ninetynine wrongfully condemned.
[20698]
[20699]MARTHA: (Sobbing behind her veil.) Breach of promise. My real name is
[20700]Peggy Griffin. He wrote to me that he was miserable. I’ll tell my
[20701]brother, the Bective rugger fullback, on you, heartless flirt.
[20702]
[20703]BLOOM: (Behind his hand.) She’s drunk. The woman is inebriated. (He
[20704]murmurs vaguely the pass of Ephraim.) Shitbroleeth.
[20705]
[20706]SECOND WATCH: (Tears in his eyes, to Bloom.) You ought to be thoroughly
[20707]well ashamed of yourself.
[20708]
[20709]BLOOM: Gentlemen of the jury, let me explain. A pure mare’s nest. I am
[20710]a man misunderstood. I am being made a scapegoat of. I am a respectable
[20711]married man, without a stain on my character. I live in Eccles street.
[20712]My wife, I am the daughter of a most distinguished commander, a gallant
[20713]upstanding gentleman, what do you call him, Majorgeneral Brian Tweedy,
[20714]one of Britain’s fighting men who helped to win our battles. Got his
[20715]majority for the heroic defence of Rorke’s Drift.
[20716]
[20717]FIRST WATCH: Regiment.
[20718]
[20719]BLOOM: (Turns to the gallery.) The royal Dublins, boys, the salt of the
[20720]earth, known the world over. I think I see some old comrades in arms
[20721]up there among you. The R. D. F., with our own Metropolitan police,
[20722]guardians of our homes, the pluckiest lads and the finest body of men,
[20723]as physique, in the service of our sovereign.
[20724]
[20725]A VOICE: Turncoat! Up the Boers! Who booed Joe Chamberlain?
[20726]
[20727]BLOOM: (His hand on the shoulder of the first watch.) My old dad too was
[20728]a J. P. I’m as staunch a Britisher as you are, sir. I fought with the
[20729]colours for king and country in the absentminded war under general
[20730]Gough in the park and was disabled at Spion Kop and Bloemfontein,
[20731]was mentioned in dispatches. I did all a white man could. (With quiet
[20732]feeling.) Jim Bludso. Hold her nozzle again the bank.
[20733]
[20734]FIRST WATCH: Profession or trade.
[20735]
[20736]BLOOM: Well, I follow a literary occupation, author-journalist. In fact
[20737]we are just bringing out a collection of prize stories of which I am the
[20738]inventor, something that is an entirely new departure. I am connected
[20739]with the British and Irish press. If you ring up...
[20740]
[20741](Myles Crawford strides out jerkily, a quill between his teeth. His
[20742]scarlet beak blazes within the aureole of his straw hat. He dangles
[20743]a hank of Spanish onions in one hand and holds with the other hand a
[20744]telephone receiver nozzle to his ear.)
[20745]
[20746]MYLES CRAWFORD: (His cock’s wattles wagging.) Hello, seventyseven
[20747]eightfour. Hello. Freeman’s Urinal and Weekly Arsewipe here. Paralyse
[20748]Europe. You which? Bluebags? Who writes? Is it Bloom?
[20749]
[20750](Mr Philip Beaufoy, palefaced, stands in the witnessbox, in accurate
[20751]morning dress, outbreast pocket with peak of handkerchief showing,
[20752]creased lavender trousers and patent boots. He carries a large portfolio
[20753]labelled Matcham’s Masterstrokes.)
[20754]
[20755]BEAUFOY: (Drawls.) No, you aren’t. Not by a long shot if I know it.
[20756]I don’t see it, that’s all. No born gentleman, no-one with the most
[20757]rudimentary promptings of a gentleman would stoop to such particularly
[20758]loathsome conduct. One of those, my lord. A plagiarist. A soapy sneak
[20759]masquerading as a literateur. It’s perfectly obvious that with the
[20760]most inherent baseness he has cribbed some of my bestselling copy,
[20761]really gorgeous stuff, a perfect gem, the love passages in which are
[20762]beneath suspicion. The Beaufoy books of love and great possessions,
[20763]with which your lordship is doubtless familiar, are a household word
[20764]throughout the kingdom.
[20765]
[20766]BLOOM: (Murmurs with hangdog meekness glum.) That bit about the laughing
[20767]witch hand in hand I take exception to, if I may...
[20768]
[20769]BEAUFOY: (His lip upcurled, smiles superciliously on the court.) You
[20770]funny ass, you! You’re too beastly awfully weird for words! I don’t
[20771]think you need over excessively disincommodate yourself in that regard.
[20772]My literary agent Mr J. B. Pinker is in attendance. I presume, my
[20773]lord, we shall receive the usual witnesses’ fees, shan’t we? We are
[20774]considerably out of pocket over this bally pressman johnny, this jackdaw
[20775]of Rheims, who has not even been to a university.
[20776]
[20777]BLOOM: (Indistinctly.) University of life. Bad art.
[20778]
[20779]BEAUFOY: (Shouts.) It’s a damnably foul lie, showing the moral
[20780]rottenness of the man! (He extends his portfolio.) We have here damning
[20781]evidence, the corpus delicti, my lord, a specimen of my maturer work
[20782]disfigured by the hallmark of the beast.
[20783]
[20784]A VOICE FROM THE GALLERY:
[20785]
[20786] Moses, Moses, king of the jews,
[20787] Wiped his arse in the Daily News.
[20788]BLOOM: (Bravely.) Overdrawn.
[20789]
[20790]BEAUFOY: You low cad! You ought to be ducked in the horsepond, you
[20791]rotter! (To the court.) Why, look at the man’s private life! Leading
[20792]a quadruple existence! Street angel and house devil. Not fit to be
[20793]mentioned in mixed society! The archconspirator of the age!
[20794]
[20795]BLOOM: (To the court.) And he, a bachelor, how...
[20796]
[20797]FIRST WATCH: The King versus Bloom. Call the woman Driscoll.
[20798]
[20799]THE CRIER: Mary Driscoll, scullerymaid!
[20800]
[20801](Mary Driscoll, a slipshod servant girl, approaches. She has a bucket on
[20802]the crook of her arm and a scouringbrush in her hand.)
[20803]
[20804]SECOND WATCH: Another! Are you of the unfortunate class?
[20805]
[20806]MARY DRISCOLL: (Indignantly.) I’m not a bad one. I bear a respectable
[20807]character and was four months in my last place. I was in a situation,
[20808]six pounds a year and my chances with Fridays out and I had to leave
[20809]owing to his carryings on.
[20810]
[20811]FIRST WATCH: What do you tax him with?
[20812]
[20813]MARY DRISCOLL: He made a certain suggestion but I thought more of myself
[20814]as poor as I am.
[20815]
[20816]BLOOM: (In housejacket of ripplecloth, flannel trousers, heelless
[20817]slippers, unshaven, his hair rumpled: softly.) I treated you white.
[20818]I gave you mementos, smart emerald garters far above your station.
[20819]Incautiously I took your part when you were accused of pilfering.
[20820]There’s a medium in all things. Play cricket.
[20821]
[20822]MARY DRISCOLL: (Excitedly.) As God is looking down on me this night if
[20823]ever I laid a hand to them oylsters!
[20824]
[20825]FIRST WATCH: The offence complained of? Did something happen?
[20826]
[20827]MARY DRISCOLL: He surprised me in the rere of the premises, Your honour,
[20828]when the missus was out shopping one morning with a request for a safety
[20829]pin. He held me and I was discoloured in four places as a result. And he
[20830]interfered twict with my clothing.
[20831]
[20832]BLOOM: She counterassaulted.
[20833]
[20834]MARY DRISCOLL: (Scornfully.) I had more respect for the scouringbrush,
[20835]so I had. I remonstrated with him, Your lord, and he remarked: keep it
[20836]quiet.
[20837]
[20838](General laughter.)
[20839]
[20840]GEORGE FOTTRELL: (Clerk of the crown and peace, resonantly.) Order in
[20841]court! The accused will now make a bogus statement.
[20842]
[20843](Bloom, pleading not guilty and holding a fullblown waterlily, begins a
[20844]long unintelligible speech. They would hear what counsel had to say in
[20845]his stirring address to the grand jury. He was down and out but, though
[20846]branded as a black sheep, if he might say so, he meant to reform, to
[20847]retrieve the memory of the past in a purely sisterly way and return to
[20848]nature as a purely domestic animal. A sevenmonths’ child, he had been
[20849]carefully brought up and nurtured by an aged bedridden parent. There
[20850]might have been lapses of an erring father but he wanted to turn over
[20851]a new leaf and now, when at long last in sight of the whipping post,
[20852]to lead a homely life in the evening of his days, permeated by the
[20853]affectionate surroundings of the heaving bosom of the family. An
[20854]acclimatised Britisher, he had seen that summer eve from the footplate
[20855]of an engine cab of the Loop line railway company while the rain
[20856]refrained from falling glimpses, as it were, through the windows of
[20857]loveful households in Dublin city and urban district of scenes truly
[20858]rural of happiness of the better land with Dockrell’s wallpaper at one
[20859]and ninepence a dozen, innocent Britishborn bairns lisping prayers to
[20860]the Sacred Infant, youthful scholars grappling with their pensums or
[20861]model young ladies playing on the pianoforte or anon all with fervour
[20862]reciting the family rosary round the crackling Yulelog while in the
[20863]boreens and green lanes the colleens with their swains strolled what
[20864]times the strains of the organtoned melodeon Britannia metalbound with
[20865]four acting stops and twelvefold bellows, a sacrifice, greatest bargain
[20866]ever....
[20867]
[20868](Renewed laughter. He mumbles incoherently. Reporters complain that they
[20869]cannot hear.)
[20870]
[20871]LONGHAND AND SHORTHAND: (Without looking up from their notebooks.)
[20872]Loosen his boots.
[20873]
[20874]PROFESSOR MACHUGH: (From the presstable, coughs and calls.) Cough it up,
[20875]man. Get it out in bits.
[20876]
[20877](The crossexamination proceeds re Bloom and the bucket. A large bucket.
[20878]Bloom himself. Bowel trouble. In Beaver street. Gripe, yes. Quite bad.
[20879]A plasterer’s bucket. By walking stifflegged. Suffered untold misery.
[20880]Deadly agony. About noon. Love or burgundy. Yes, some spinach. Crucial
[20881]moment. He did not look in the bucket. Nobody. Rather a mess. Not
[20882]completely. A Titbits back number.)
[20883]
[20884](Uproar and catcalls. Bloom in a torn frockcoat stained with whitewash,
[20885]dinged silk hat sideways on his head, a strip of stickingplaster across
[20886]his nose, talks inaudibly.)
[20887]
[20888]J. J. O’MOLLOY: (In barrister’s grey wig and stuffgown, speaking
[20889]with a voice of pained protest.) This is no place for indecent levity
[20890]at the expense of an erring mortal disguised in liquor. We are not in
[20891]a beargarden nor at an Oxford rag nor is this a travesty of justice. My
[20892]client is an infant, a poor foreign immigrant who started scratch as
[20893]a stowaway and is now trying to turn an honest penny. The trumped up
[20894]misdemeanour was due to a momentary aberration of heredity, brought on
[20895]by hallucination, such familiarities as the alleged guilty occurrence
[20896]being quite permitted in my client’s native place, the land of the
[20897]Pharaoh. Prima facie, I put it to you that there was no attempt at
[20898]carnally knowing. Intimacy did not occur and the offence complained of
[20899]by Driscoll, that her virtue was solicited, was not repeated. I would
[20900]deal in especial with atavism. There have been cases of shipwreck and
[20901]somnambulism in my client’s family. If the accused could speak he
[20902]could a tale unfold—one of the strangest that have ever been narrated
[20903]between the covers of a book. He himself, my lord, is a physical wreck
[20904]from cobbler’s weak chest. His submission is that he is of Mongolian
[20905]extraction and irresponsible for his actions. Not all there, in fact.
[20906]
[20907]BLOOM: (Barefoot, pigeonbreasted, in lascar’s vest and trousers,
[20908]apologetic toes turned in, opens his tiny mole’s eyes and looks about
[20909]him dazedly, passing a slow hand across his forehead. Then he hitches
[20910]his belt sailor fashion and with a shrug of oriental obeisance salutes
[20911]the court, pointing one thumb heavenward.) Him makee velly muchee fine
[20912]night. (He begins to lilt simply.)
[20913]
[20914] Li li poo lil chile
[20915] Blingee pigfoot evly night
[20916] Payee two shilly...
[20917](He is howled down.)
[20918]
[20919]J. J. O’MOLLOY: (Hotly to the populace.) This is a lonehand fight. By
[20920]Hades, I will not have any client of mine gagged and badgered in this
[20921]fashion by a pack of curs and laughing hyenas. The Mosaic code has
[20922]superseded the law of the jungle. I say it and I say it emphatically,
[20923]without wishing for one moment to defeat the ends of justice, accused
[20924]was not accessory before the act and prosecutrix has not been tampered
[20925]with. The young person was treated by defendant as if she were his very
[20926]own daughter. (Bloom takes J. J. O’Molloy’s hand and raises it to
[20927]his lips.) I shall call rebutting evidence to prove up to the hilt that
[20928]the hidden hand is again at its old game. When in doubt persecute Bloom.
[20929]My client, an innately bashful man, would be the last man in the world
[20930]to do anything ungentlemanly which injured modesty could object to or
[20931]cast a stone at a girl who took the wrong turning when some dastard,
[20932]responsible for her condition, had worked his own sweet will on her. He
[20933]wants to go straight. I regard him as the whitest man I know. He is down
[20934]on his luck at present owing to the mortgaging of his extensive property
[20935]at Agendath Netaim in faraway Asia Minor, slides of which will now be
[20936]shown. (To Bloom.) I suggest that you will do the handsome thing.
[20937]
[20938]BLOOM: A penny in the pound.
[20939]
[20940](The image of the lake of Kinnereth with blurred cattle cropping in
[20941]silver haze is projected on the wall. Moses Dlugacz, ferreteyed albino,
[20942]in blue dungarees, stands up in the gallery, holding in each hand an
[20943]orange citron and a pork kidney.)
[20944]
[20945]DLUGACZ: (Hoarsely.) Bleibtreustrasse, Berlin, W. 13.
[20946]
[20947](J. J. O’Molloy steps on to a low plinth and holds the lapel of his
[20948]coat with solemnity. His face lengthens, grows pale and bearded, with
[20949]sunken eyes, the blotches of phthisis and hectic cheekbones of John F.
[20950]Taylor. He applies his handkerchief to his mouth and scrutinises the
[20951]galloping tide of rosepink blood.)
[20952]
[20953]J. J. O’MOLLOY: (Almost voicelessly.) Excuse me. I am suffering from a
[20954]severe chill, have recently come from a sickbed. A few wellchosen words.
[20955](He assumes the avine head, foxy moustache and proboscidal eloquence of
[20956]Seymour Bushe.) When the angel’s book comes to be opened if aught
[20957]that the pensive bosom has inaugurated of soultransfigured and of
[20958]soultransfiguring deserves to live I say accord the prisoner at the bar
[20959]the sacred benefit of the doubt.
[20960]
[20961](A paper with something written on it is handed into court.)
[20962]
[20963]BLOOM: (In court dress.) Can give best references. Messrs Callan,
[20964]Coleman. Mr Wisdom Hely J. P. My old chief Joe Cuffe. Mr V. B. Dillon,
[20965]ex lord mayor of Dublin. I have moved in the charmed circle of the
[20966]highest... Queens of Dublin society. (Carelessly.) I was just chatting
[20967]this afternoon at the viceregal lodge to my old pals, sir Robert and
[20968]lady Ball, astronomer royal, at the levee. Sir Bob, I said...
[20969]
[20970]MRS YELVERTON BARRY: (In lowcorsaged opal balldress and elbowlength
[20971]ivory gloves, wearing a sabletrimmed brickquilted dolman, a comb of
[20972]brilliants and panache of osprey in her hair.) Arrest him, constable. He
[20973]wrote me an anonymous letter in prentice backhand when my husband was
[20974]in the North Riding of Tipperary on the Munster circuit, signed James
[20975]Lovebirch. He said that he had seen from the gods my peerless globes
[20976]as I sat in a box of the Theatre Royal at a command performance of La
[20977]Cigale. I deeply inflamed him, he said. He made improper overtures to me
[20978]to misconduct myself at half past four p.m. on the following Thursday,
[20979]Dunsink time. He offered to send me through the post a work of fiction
[20980]by Monsieur Paul de Kock, entitled The Girl with the Three Pairs of
[20981]Stays.
[20982]
[20983]MRS BELLINGHAM: (In cap and seal coney mantle, wrapped up to the
[20984]nose, steps out of her brougham and scans through tortoiseshell
[20985]quizzing-glasses which she takes from inside her huge opossum muff.)
[20986]Also to me. Yes, I believe it is the same objectionable person. Because
[20987]he closed my carriage door outside sir Thornley Stoker’s one sleety
[20988]day during the cold snap of February ninetythree when even the grid
[20989]of the wastepipe and the ballstop in my bath cistern were frozen.
[20990]Subsequently he enclosed a bloom of edelweiss culled on the heights,
[20991]as he said, in my honour. I had it examined by a botanical expert and
[20992]elicited the information that it was a blossom of the homegrown potato
[20993]plant purloined from a forcingcase of the model farm.
[20994]
[20995]MRS YELVERTON BARRY: Shame on him!
[20996]
[20997](A crowd of sluts and ragamuffins surges forward.)
[20998]
[20999]THE SLUTS AND RAGAMUFFINS: (Screaming.) Stop thief! Hurrah there,
[21000]Bluebeard! Three cheers for Ikey Mo!
[21001]
[21002]SECOND WATCH: (Produces handcuffs.) Here are the darbies.
[21003]
[21004]MRS BELLINGHAM: He addressed me in several handwritings with fulsome
[21005]compliments as a Venus in furs and alleged profound pity for my
[21006]frostbound coachman Palmer while in the same breath he expressed himself
[21007]as envious of his earflaps and fleecy sheepskins and of his fortunate
[21008]proximity to my person, when standing behind my chair wearing my livery
[21009]and the armorial bearings of the Bellingham escutcheon garnished sable,
[21010]a buck’s head couped or. He lauded almost extravagantly my nether
[21011]extremities, my swelling calves in silk hose drawn up to the limit, and
[21012]eulogised glowingly my other hidden treasures in priceless lace which,
[21013]he said, he could conjure up. He urged me (Stating that he felt it
[21014]his mission in life to urge me.) to defile the marriage bed, to commit
[21015]adultery at the earliest possible opportunity.
[21016]
[21017]THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (In amazon costume, hard hat,
[21018]jackboots cockspurred, vermilion waistcoat, fawn musketeer gauntlets
[21019]with braided drums, long train held up and hunting crop with which she
[21020]strikes her welt constantly.) Also me. Because he saw me on the polo
[21021]ground of the Phoenix park at the match All Ireland versus the Rest of
[21022]Ireland. My eyes, I know, shone divinely as I watched Captain Slogger
[21023]Dennehy of the Inniskillings win the final chukkar on his darling cob
[21024]Centaur. This plebeian Don Juan observed me from behind a hackney car
[21025]and sent me in double envelopes an obscene photograph, such as are sold
[21026]after dark on Paris boulevards, insulting to any lady. I have it still.
[21027]It represents a partially nude señorita, frail and lovely (his wife,
[21028]as he solemnly assured me, taken by him from nature), practising illicit
[21029]intercourse with a muscular torero, evidently a blackguard. He urged me
[21030]to do likewise, to misbehave, to sin with officers of the garrison. He
[21031]implored me to soil his letter in an unspeakable manner, to chastise
[21032]him as he richly deserves, to bestride and ride him, to give him a most
[21033]vicious horsewhipping.
[21034]
[21035]MRS BELLINGHAM: Me too.
[21036]
[21037]MRS YELVERTON BARRY: Me too.
[21038]
[21039](Several highly respectable Dublin ladies hold up improper letters
[21040]received from Bloom.)
[21041]
[21042]THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (Stamps her jingling spurs in a
[21043]sudden paroxysm of fury.) I will, by the God above me. I’ll scourge
[21044]the pigeonlivered cur as long as I can stand over him. I’ll flay him
[21045]alive.
[21046]
[21047]BLOOM: (His eyes closing, quails expectantly.) Here? (He squirms.)
[21048]Again! (He pants cringing.) I love the danger.
[21049]
[21050]THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: Very much so! I’ll make it hot for
[21051]you. I’ll make you dance Jack Latten for that.
[21052]
[21053]MRS BELLINGHAM: Tan his breech well, the upstart! Write the stars and
[21054]stripes on it!
[21055]
[21056]MRS YELVERTON BARRY: Disgraceful! There’s no excuse for him! A married
[21057]man!
[21058]
[21059]BLOOM: All these people. I meant only the spanking idea. A warm tingling
[21060]glow without effusion. Refined birching to stimulate the circulation.
[21061]
[21062]THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (Laughs derisively.) O, did you, my
[21063]fine fellow? Well, by the living God, you’ll get the surprise of your
[21064]life now, believe me, the most unmerciful hiding a man ever bargained
[21065]for. You have lashed the dormant tigress in my nature into fury.
[21066]
[21067]MRS BELLINGHAM: (Shakes her muff and quizzing-glasses vindictively.)
[21068]Make him smart, Hanna dear. Give him ginger. Thrash the mongrel within
[21069]an inch of his life. The cat-o’-nine-tails. Geld him. Vivisect him.
[21070]
[21071]BLOOM: (Shuddering, shrinking, joins his hands: with hangdog mien.) O
[21072]cold! O shivery! It was your ambrosial beauty. Forget, forgive. Kismet.
[21073]Let me off this once. (He offers the other cheek.)
[21074]
[21075]MRS YELVERTON BARRY: (Severely.) Don’t do so on any account, Mrs
[21076]Talboys! He should be soundly trounced!
[21077]
[21078]THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (Unbuttoning her gauntlet violently.)
[21079]I’ll do no such thing. Pigdog and always was ever since he was
[21080]pupped! To dare address me! I’ll flog him black and blue in the public
[21081]streets. I’ll dig my spurs in him up to the rowel. He is a wellknown
[21082]cuckold. (She swishes her huntingcrop savagely in the air.) Take down
[21083]his trousers without loss of time. Come here, sir! Quick! Ready?
[21084]
[21085]BLOOM: (Trembling, beginning to obey.) The weather has been so warm.
[21086]
[21087](Davy Stephens, ringletted, passes with a bevy of barefoot newsboys.)
[21088]
[21089]DAVY STEPHENS: Messenger of the Sacred Heart and Evening Telegraph with
[21090]Saint Patrick’s Day supplement. Containing the new addresses of all
[21091]the cuckolds in Dublin.
[21092]
[21093](The very reverend Canon O’Hanlon in cloth of gold cope elevates and
[21094]exposes a marble timepiece. Before him Father Conroy and the reverend
[21095]John Hughes S. J. bend low.)
[21096]
[21097]THE TIMEPIECE: (Unportalling.)
[21098]
[21099] Cuckoo.
[21100] Cuckoo.
[21101] Cuckoo.
[21102](The brass quoits of a bed are heard to jingle.)
[21103]
[21104]THE QUOITS: Jigjag. Jigajiga. Jigjag.
[21105]
[21106](A panel of fog rolls back rapidly, revealing rapidly in the jurybox
[21107]the faces of Martin Cunningham, foreman, silkhatted, Jack Power, Simon
[21108]Dedalus, Tom Kernan, Ned Lambert, John Henry Menton, Myles Crawford,
[21109]Lenehan, Paddy Leonard, Nosey Flynn, M’Coy and the featureless face of
[21110]a Nameless One.)
[21111]
[21112]THE NAMELESS ONE: Bareback riding. Weight for age. Gob, he organised
[21113]her.
[21114]
[21115]THE JURORS: (All their heads turned to his voice.) Really?
[21116]
[21117]THE NAMELESS ONE: (Snarls.) Arse over tip. Hundred shillings to five.
[21118]
[21119]THE JURORS: (All their heads lowered in assent.) Most of us thought as
[21120]much.
[21121]
[21122]FIRST WATCH: He is a marked man. Another girl’s plait cut. Wanted:
[21123]Jack the Ripper. A thousand pounds reward.
[21124]
[21125]SECOND WATCH: (Awed, whispers.) And in black. A mormon. Anarchist.
[21126]
[21127]THE CRIER: (Loudly.) Whereas Leopold Bloom of no fixed abode is a
[21128]wellknown dynamitard, forger, bigamist, bawd and cuckold and a public
[21129]nuisance to the citizens of Dublin and whereas at this commission of
[21130]assizes the most honourable...
[21131]
[21132](His Honour, sir Frederick Falkiner, recorder of Dublin, in judicial
[21133]garb of grey stone rises from the bench, stonebearded. He bears in his
[21134]arms an umbrella sceptre. From his forehead arise starkly the Mosaic
[21135]ramshorns.)
[21136]
[21137]THE RECORDER: I will put an end to this white slave traffic and rid
[21138]Dublin of this odious pest. Scandalous! (He dons the black cap.) Let him
[21139]be taken, Mr Subsheriff, from the dock where he now stands and detained
[21140]in custody in Mountjoy prison during His Majesty’s pleasure and there
[21141]be hanged by the neck until he is dead and therein fail not at your
[21142]peril or may the Lord have mercy on your soul. Remove him. (A black
[21143]skullcap descends upon his head.)
[21144]
[21145](The subsheriff Long John Fanning appears, smoking a pungent Henry
[21146]Clay.)
[21147]
[21148]LONG JOHN FANNING: (Scowls and calls with rich rolling utterance.)
[21149]Who’ll hang Judas Iscariot?
[21150]
[21151](H. Rumbold, master barber, in a bloodcoloured jerkin and tanner’s
[21152]apron, a rope coiled over his shoulder, mounts the block. A life
[21153]preserver and a nailstudded bludgeon are stuck in his belt. He rubs
[21154]grimly his grappling hands, knobbed with knuckledusters.)
[21155]
[21156]RUMBOLD: (To the recorder with sinister familiarity.) Hanging Harry,
[21157]your Majesty, the Mersey terror. Five guineas a jugular. Neck or
[21158]nothing.
[21159]
[21160](The bells of George’s church toll slowly, loud dark iron.)
[21161]
[21162]THE BELLS: Heigho! Heigho!
[21163]
[21164]BLOOM: (Desperately.) Wait. Stop. Gulls. Good heart. I saw. Innocence.
[21165]Girl in the monkeyhouse. Zoo. Lewd chimpanzee. (Breathlessly.) Pelvic
[21166]basin. Her artless blush unmanned me. (Overcome with emotion.) I left
[21167]the precincts. (He turns to a figure in the crowd, appealing.) Hynes,
[21168]may I speak to you? You know me. That three shillings you can keep. If
[21169]you want a little more...
[21170]
[21171]HYNES: (Coldly.) You are a perfect stranger.
[21172]
[21173]SECOND WATCH: (Points to the corner.) The bomb is here.
[21174]
[21175]FIRST WATCH: Infernal machine with a time fuse.
[21176]
[21177]BLOOM: No, no. Pig’s feet. I was at a funeral.
[21178]
[21179]FIRST WATCH: (Draws his truncheon.) Liar!
[21180]
[21181](The beagle lifts his snout, showing the grey scorbutic face of Paddy
[21182]Dignam. He has gnawed all. He exhales a putrid carcasefed breath.
[21183]He grows to human size and shape. His dachshund coat becomes a brown
[21184]mortuary habit. His green eye flashes bloodshot. Half of one ear, all
[21185]the nose and both thumbs are ghouleaten.)
[21186]
[21187]PADDY DIGNAM: (In a hollow voice.) It is true. It was my funeral. Doctor
[21188]Finucane pronounced life extinct when I succumbed to the disease from
[21189]natural causes.
[21190]
[21191](He lifts his mutilated ashen face moonwards and bays lugubriously.)
[21192]
[21193]BLOOM: (In triumph.) You hear?
[21194]
[21195]PADDY DIGNAM: Bloom, I am Paddy Dignam’s spirit. List, list, O list!
[21196]
[21197]BLOOM: The voice is the voice of Esau.
[21198]
[21199]SECOND WATCH: (Blesses himself.) How is that possible?
[21200]
[21201]FIRST WATCH: It is not in the penny catechism.
[21202]
[21203]PADDY DIGNAM: By metempsychosis. Spooks.
[21204]
[21205]A VOICE: O rocks.
[21206]
[21207]PADDY DIGNAM: (Earnestly.) Once I was in the employ of Mr J. H. Menton,
[21208]solicitor, commissioner for oaths and affidavits, of 27 Bachelor’s
[21209]Walk. Now I am defunct, the wall of the heart hypertrophied. Hard lines.
[21210]The poor wife was awfully cut up. How is she bearing it? Keep her off
[21211]that bottle of sherry. (He looks round him.) A lamp. I must satisfy an
[21212]animal need. That buttermilk didn’t agree with me.
[21213]
[21214](The portly figure of John O’Connell, caretaker, stands forth, holding
[21215]a bunch of keys tied with crape. Beside him stands Father Coffey,
[21216]chaplain, toadbellied, wrynecked, in a surplice and bandanna nightcap,
[21217]holding sleepily a staff of twisted poppies.)
[21218]
[21219]FATHER COFFEY: (Yawns, then chants with a hoarse croak.) Namine. Jacobs.
[21220]Vobiscuits. Amen.
[21221]
[21222]JOHN O’CONNELL: (Foghorns stormily through his megaphone.) Dignam,
[21223]Patrick T, deceased.
[21224]
[21225]PADDY DIGNAM: (With pricked up ears, winces.) Overtones. (He wriggles
[21226]forward and places an ear to the ground.) My master’s voice!
[21227]
[21228]JOHN O’CONNELL: Burial docket letter number U. P. eightyfive thousand.
[21229]Field seventeen. House of Keys. Plot, one hundred and one.
[21230]
[21231](Paddy Dignam listens with visible effort, thinking, his tail
[21232]stiffpointed, his ears cocked.)
[21233]
[21234]PADDY DIGNAM: Pray for the repose of his soul.
[21235]
[21236](He worms down through a coalhole, his brown habit trailing its tether
[21237]over rattling pebbles. After him toddles an obese grandfather rat on
[21238]fungus turtle paws under a grey carapace. Dignam’s voice, muffled, is
[21239]heard baying under ground: Dignam’s dead and gone below. Tom Rochford,
[21240]robinredbreasted, in cap and breeches, jumps from his twocolumned
[21241]machine.)
[21242]
[21243]TOM ROCHFORD: (A hand to his breastbone, bows.) Reuben J. A florin I
[21244]find him. (He fixes the manhole with a resolute stare.) My turn now on.
[21245]Follow me up to Carlow.
[21246]
[21247](He executes a daredevil salmon leap in the air and is engulfed in the
[21248]coalhole. Two discs on the columns wobble, eyes of nought. All recedes.
[21249]Bloom plodges forward again through the sump. Kisses chirp amid
[21250]the rifts of fog. A piano sounds. He stands before a lighted house,
[21251]listening. The kisses, winging from their bowers, fly about him,
[21252]twittering, warbling, cooing.)
[21253]
[21254]THE KISSES: (Warbling.) Leo! (Twittering.) Icky licky micky sticky for
[21255]Leo! (Cooing.) Coo coocoo! Yummyyum, Womwom! (Warbling.) Big comebig!
[21256]Pirouette! Leopopold! (Twittering.) Leeolee! (Warbling.) O Leo!
[21257]
[21258](They rustle, flutter upon his garments, alight, bright giddy flecks,
[21259]silvery sequins.)
[21260]
[21261]BLOOM: A man’s touch. Sad music. Church music. Perhaps here.
[21262]
[21263](Zoe Higgins, a young whore in a sapphire slip, closed with three bronze
[21264]buckles, a slim black velvet fillet round her throat, nods, trips down
[21265]the steps and accosts him.)
[21266]
[21267]ZOE: Are you looking for someone? He’s inside with his friend.
[21268]
[21269]BLOOM: Is this Mrs Mack’s?
[21270]
[21271]ZOE: No, eightyone. Mrs Cohen’s. You might go farther and fare worse.
[21272]Mother Slipperslapper. (Familiarly.) She’s on the job herself tonight
[21273]with the vet her tipster that gives her all the winners and pays for
[21274]her son in Oxford. Working overtime but her luck’s turned today.
[21275](Suspiciously.) You’re not his father, are you?
[21276]
[21277]BLOOM: Not I!
[21278]
[21279]ZOE: You both in black. Has little mousey any tickles tonight?
[21280]
[21281](His skin, alert, feels her fingertips approach. A hand glides over his
[21282]left thigh.)
[21283]
[21284]ZOE: How’s the nuts?
[21285]
[21286]BLOOM: Off side. Curiously they are on the right. Heavier, I suppose.
[21287]One in a million my tailor, Mesias, says.
[21288]
[21289]ZOE: (In sudden alarm.) You’ve a hard chancre.
[21290]
[21291]BLOOM: Not likely.
[21292]
[21293]ZOE: I feel it.
[21294]
[21295](Her hand slides into his left trouser pocket and brings out a hard
[21296]black shrivelled potato. She regards it and Bloom with dumb moist lips.)
[21297]
[21298]BLOOM: A talisman. Heirloom.
[21299]
[21300]ZOE: For Zoe? For keeps? For being so nice, eh?
[21301]
[21302](She puts the potato greedily into a pocket then links his arm, cuddling
[21303]him with supple warmth. He smiles uneasily. Slowly, note by note,
[21304]oriental music is played. He gazes in the tawny crystal of her eyes,
[21305]ringed with kohol. His smile softens.)
[21306]
[21307]ZOE: You’ll know me the next time.
[21308]
[21309]BLOOM: (Forlornly.) I never loved a dear gazelle but it was sure to...
[21310]
[21311](Gazelles are leaping, feeding on the mountains. Near are lakes. Round
[21312]their shores file shadows black of cedargroves. Aroma rises, a strong
[21313]hairgrowth of resin. It burns, the orient, a sky of sapphire, cleft by
[21314]the bronze flight of eagles. Under it lies the womancity, nude, white,
[21315]still, cool, in luxury. A fountain murmurs among damask roses. Mammoth
[21316]roses murmur of scarlet winegrapes. A wine of shame, lust, blood exudes,
[21317]strangely murmuring.)
[21318]
[21319]ZOE: (Murmuring singsong with the music, her odalisk lips lusciously
[21320]smeared with salve of swinefat and rosewater.) Schorach ani wenowach,
[21321]benoith Hierushaloim.
[21322]
[21323]BLOOM: (Fascinated.) I thought you were of good stock by your accent.
[21324]
[21325]ZOE: And you know what thought did?
[21326]
[21327](She bites his ear gently with little goldstopped teeth, sending on
[21328]him a cloying breath of stale garlic. The roses draw apart, disclose a
[21329]sepulchre of the gold of kings and their mouldering bones.)
[21330]
[21331]BLOOM: (Draws back, mechanically caressing her right bub with a flat
[21332]awkward hand.) Are you a Dublin girl?
[21333]
[21334]ZOE: (Catches a stray hair deftly and twists it to her coil.) No bloody
[21335]fear. I’m English. Have you a swaggerroot?
[21336]
[21337]BLOOM: (As before.) Rarely smoke, dear. Cigar now and then. Childish
[21338]device. (Lewdly.) The mouth can be better engaged than with a cylinder
[21339]of rank weed.
[21340]
[21341]ZOE: Go on. Make a stump speech out of it.
[21342]
[21343]BLOOM: (In workman’s corduroy overalls, black gansy with red floating
[21344]tie and apache cap.) Mankind is incorrigible. Sir Walter Ralegh brought
[21345]from the new world that potato and that weed, the one a killer of
[21346]pestilence by absorption, the other a poisoner of the ear, eye, heart,
[21347]memory, will, understanding, all. That is to say he brought the poison
[21348]a hundred years before another person whose name I forget brought the
[21349]food. Suicide. Lies. All our habits. Why, look at our public life!
[21350]
[21351](Midnight chimes from distant steeples.)
[21352]
[21353]THE CHIMES: Turn again, Leopold! Lord mayor of Dublin!
[21354]
[21355]BLOOM: (In alderman’s gown and chain.) Electors of Arran Quay, Inns
[21356]Quay, Rotunda, Mountjoy and North Dock, better run a tramline, I say,
[21357]from the cattlemarket to the river. That’s the music of the future.
[21358]That’s my programme. Cui bono? But our bucaneering Vanderdeckens in
[21359]their phantom ship of finance...
[21360]
[21361]AN ELECTOR: Three times three for our future chief magistrate!
[21362]
[21363](The aurora borealis of the torchlight procession leaps.)
[21364]
[21365]THE TORCHBEARERS: Hooray!
[21366]
[21367](Several wellknown burgesses, city magnates and freemen of the city
[21368]shake hands with Bloom and congratulate him. Timothy Harrington, late
[21369]thrice Lord Mayor of Dublin, imposing in mayoral scarlet, gold chain and
[21370]white silk tie, confers with councillor Lorcan Sherlock, locum tenens.
[21371]They nod vigorously in agreement.)
[21372]
[21373]LATE LORD MAYOR HARRINGTON: (In scarlet robe with mace, gold mayoral
[21374]chain and large white silk scarf.) That alderman sir Leo Bloom’s
[21375]speech be printed at the expense of the ratepayers. That the house in
[21376]which he was born be ornamented with a commemorative tablet and that the
[21377]thoroughfare hitherto known as Cow Parlour off Cork street be henceforth
[21378]designated Boulevard Bloom.
[21379]
[21380]COUNCILLOR LORCAN SHERLOCK: Carried unanimously.
[21381]
[21382]BLOOM: (Impassionedly.) These flying Dutchmen or lying Dutchmen as
[21383]they recline in their upholstered poop, casting dice, what reck they?
[21384]Machines is their cry, their chimera, their panacea. Laboursaving
[21385]apparatuses, supplanters, bugbears, manufactured monsters for mutual
[21386]murder, hideous hobgoblins produced by a horde of capitalistic lusts
[21387]upon our prostituted labour. The poor man starves while they are
[21388]grassing their royal mountain stags or shooting peasants and phartridges
[21389]in their purblind pomp of pelf and power. But their reign is rover for
[21390]rever and ever and ev...
[21391]
[21392](Prolonged applause. Venetian masts, maypoles and festal arches spring
[21393]up. A streamer bearing the legends Cead Mile Failte and Mah Ttob Melek
[21394]Israel spans the street. All the windows are thronged with sightseers,
[21395]chiefly ladies. Along the route the regiments of the Royal Dublin
[21396]Fusiliers, the King’s own Scottish Borderers, the Cameron Highlanders
[21397]and the Welsh Fusiliers, standing to attention, keep back the crowd.
[21398]Boys from High school are perched on the lampposts, telegraph poles,
[21399]windowsills, cornices, gutters, chimneypots, railings, rainspouts,
[21400]whistling and cheering. The pillar of the cloud appears. A fife and
[21401]drum band is heard in the distance playing the Kol Nidre. The beaters
[21402]approach with imperial eagles hoisted, trailing banners and waving
[21403]oriental palms. The chryselephantine papal standard rises high,
[21404]surrounded by pennons of the civic flag. The van of the procession
[21405]appears headed by John Howard Parnell, city marshal, in a chessboard
[21406]tabard, the Athlone Poursuivant and Ulster King of Arms. They are
[21407]followed by the Right Honourable Joseph Hutchinson, lord mayor of
[21408]Dublin, his lordship the lord mayor of Cork, their worships the
[21409]mayors of Limerick, Galway, Sligo and Waterford, twentyeight Irish
[21410]representative peers, sirdars, grandees and maharajahs bearing the cloth
[21411]of estate, the Dublin Metropolitan Fire Brigade, the chapter of the
[21412]saints of finance in their plutocratic order of precedence, the bishop
[21413]of Down and Connor, His Eminence Michael cardinal Logue, archbishop of
[21414]Armagh, primate of all Ireland, His Grace, the most reverend Dr William
[21415]Alexander, archbishop of Armagh, primate of all Ireland, the chief
[21416]rabbi, the presbyterian moderator, the heads of the baptist, anabaptist,
[21417]methodist and Moravian chapels and the honorary secretary of the society
[21418]of friends. After them march the guilds and trades and trainbands
[21419]with flying colours: coopers, bird fanciers, millwrights, newspaper
[21420]canvassers, law scriveners, masseurs, vintners, trussmakers,
[21421]chimneysweeps, lard refiners, tabinet and poplin weavers, farriers,
[21422]Italian warehousemen, church decorators, bootjack manufacturers,
[21423]undertakers, silk mercers, lapidaries, salesmasters, corkcutters,
[21424]assessors of fire losses, dyers and cleaners, export bottlers,
[21425]fellmongers, ticketwriters, heraldic seal engravers, horse repository
[21426]hands, bullion brokers, cricket and archery outfitters, riddlemakers,
[21427]egg and potato factors, hosiers and glovers, plumbing contractors. After
[21428]them march gentlemen of the bedchamber, Black Rod, Deputy Garter,
[21429]Gold Stick, the master of horse, the lord great chamberlain, the
[21430]earl marshal, the high constable carrying the sword of state, saint
[21431]Stephen’s iron crown, the chalice and bible. Four buglers on foot blow
[21432]a sennet. Beefeaters reply, winding clarions of welcome. Under an arch
[21433]of triumph Bloom appears, bareheaded, in a crimson velvet mantle trimmed
[21434]with ermine, bearing Saint Edward’s staff, the orb and sceptre with
[21435]the dove, the curtana. He is seated on a milkwhite horse with long
[21436]flowing crimson tail, richly caparisoned, with golden headstall. Wild
[21437]excitement. The ladies from their balconies throw down rosepetals. The
[21438]air is perfumed with essences. The men cheer. Bloom’s boys run amid
[21439]the bystanders with branches of hawthorn and wrenbushes.)
[21440]
[21441]BLOOM’S BOYS:
[21442]
[21443] The wren, the wren,
[21444] The king of all birds,
[21445] Saint Stephen’s his day
[21446] Was caught in the furze.
[21447]A BLACKSMITH: (Murmurs.) For the honour of God! And is that Bloom? He
[21448]scarcely looks thirtyone.
[21449]
[21450]A PAVIOR AND FLAGGER: That’s the famous Bloom now, the world’s
[21451]greatest reformer. Hats off!
[21452]
[21453](All uncover their heads. Women whisper eagerly.)
[21454]
[21455]A MILLIONAIRESS: (Richly.) Isn’t he simply wonderful?
[21456]
[21457]A NOBLEWOMAN: (Nobly.) All that man has seen!
[21458]
[21459]A FEMINIST: (Masculinely.) And done!
[21460]
[21461]A BELLHANGER: A classic face! He has the forehead of a thinker.
[21462]
[21463](Bloom’s weather. A sunburst appears in the northwest.)
[21464]
[21465]THE BISHOP OF DOWN AND CONNOR: I here present your undoubted
[21466]emperor-president and king-chairman, the most serene and potent and very
[21467]puissant ruler of this realm. God save Leopold the First!
[21468]
[21469]ALL: God save Leopold the First!
[21470]
[21471]BLOOM: (In dalmatic and purple mantle, to the bishop of Down and Connor,
[21472]with dignity.) Thanks, somewhat eminent sir.
[21473]
[21474]WILLIAM, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH: (In purple stock and shovel hat.)
[21475]Will you to your power cause law and mercy to be executed in all your
[21476]judgments in Ireland and territories thereunto belonging?
[21477]
[21478]BLOOM: (Placing his right hand on his testicles, swears.) So may the
[21479]Creator deal with me. All this I promise to do.
[21480]
[21481]MICHAEL, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH: (Pours a cruse of hairoil over Bloom’s
[21482]head.) Gaudium magnum annuntio vobis. Habemus carneficem. Leopold,
[21483]Patrick, Andrew, David, George, be thou anointed!
[21484]
[21485](Bloom assumes a mantle of cloth of gold and puts on a ruby ring. He
[21486]ascends and stands on the stone of destiny. The representative peers put
[21487]on at the same time their twentyeight crowns. Joybells ring in Christ
[21488]church, Saint Patrick’s, George’s and gay Malahide. Mirus bazaar
[21489]fireworks go up from all sides with symbolical phallopyrotechnic
[21490]designs. The peers do homage, one by one, approaching and genuflecting.)
[21491]
[21492]THE PEERS: I do become your liege man of life and limb to earthly
[21493]worship.
[21494]
[21495](Bloom holds up his right hand on which sparkles the Koh-i-Noor diamond.
[21496]His palfrey neighs. Immediate silence. Wireless intercontinental and
[21497]interplanetary transmitters are set for reception of message.)
[21498]
[21499]BLOOM: My subjects! We hereby nominate our faithful charger Copula Felix
[21500]hereditary Grand Vizier and announce that we have this day repudiated
[21501]our former spouse and have bestowed our royal hand upon the princess
[21502]Selene, the splendour of night.
[21503]
[21504](The former morganatic spouse of Bloom is hastily removed in the Black
[21505]Maria. The princess Selene, in moonblue robes, a silver crescent on her
[21506]head, descends from a Sedan chair, borne by two giants. An outburst of
[21507]cheering.)
[21508]
[21509]JOHN HOWARD PARNELL: (Raises the royal standard.) Illustrious Bloom!
[21510]Successor to my famous brother!
[21511]
[21512]BLOOM: (Embraces John Howard Parnell.) We thank you from our heart,
[21513]John, for this right royal welcome to green Erin, the promised land of
[21514]our common ancestors.
[21515]
[21516](The freedom of the city is presented to him embodied in a charter. The
[21517]keys of Dublin, crossed on a crimson cushion, are given to him. He shows
[21518]all that he is wearing green socks.)
[21519]
[21520]TOM KERNAN: You deserve it, your honour.
[21521]
[21522]BLOOM: On this day twenty years ago we overcame the hereditary enemy at
[21523]Ladysmith. Our howitzers and camel swivel guns played on his lines with
[21524]telling effect. Half a league onward! They charge! All is lost now! Do
[21525]we yield? No! We drive them headlong! Lo! We charge! Deploying to the
[21526]left our light horse swept across the heights of Plevna and, uttering
[21527]their warcry Bonafide Sabaoth, sabred the Saracen gunners to a man.
[21528]
[21529]THE CHAPEL OF FREEMAN TYPESETTERS: Hear! Hear!
[21530]
[21531]JOHN WYSE NOLAN: There’s the man that got away James Stephens.
[21532]
[21533]A BLUECOAT SCHOOLBOY: Bravo!
[21534]
[21535]AN OLD RESIDENT: You’re a credit to your country, sir, that’s what
[21536]you are.
[21537]
[21538]AN APPLEWOMAN: He’s a man like Ireland wants.
[21539]
[21540]BLOOM: My beloved subjects, a new era is about to dawn. I, Bloom, tell
[21541]you verily it is even now at hand. Yea, on the word of a Bloom, ye shall
[21542]ere long enter into the golden city which is to be, the new Bloomusalem
[21543]in the Nova Hibernia of the future.
[21544]
[21545](Thirtytwo workmen, wearing rosettes, from all the counties of Ireland,
[21546]under the guidance of Derwan the builder, construct the new Bloomusalem.
[21547]It is a colossal edifice with crystal roof, built in the shape of a
[21548]huge pork kidney, containing forty thousand rooms. In the course of its
[21549]extension several buildings and monuments are demolished. Government
[21550]offices are temporarily transferred to railway sheds. Numerous houses
[21551]are razed to the ground. The inhabitants are lodged in barrels and
[21552]boxes, all marked in red with the letters: L. B. Several paupers
[21553]fall from a ladder. A part of the walls of Dublin, crowded with loyal
[21554]sightseers, collapses.)
[21555]
[21556]THE SIGHTSEERS: (Dying.) Morituri te salutant. (They die.)
[21557]
[21558](A man in a brown macintosh springs up through a trapdoor. He points an
[21559]elongated finger at Bloom.)
[21560]
[21561]THE MAN IN THE MACINTOSH: Don’t you believe a word he says. That
[21562]man is Leopold M’Intosh, the notorious fireraiser. His real name is
[21563]Higgins.
[21564]
[21565]BLOOM: Shoot him! Dog of a christian! So much for M’Intosh!
[21566]
[21567](A cannonshot. The man in the macintosh disappears. Bloom with his
[21568]sceptre strikes down poppies. The instantaneous deaths of many
[21569]powerful enemies, graziers, members of parliament, members of standing
[21570]committees, are reported. Bloom’s bodyguard distribute Maundy money,
[21571]commemoration medals, loaves and fishes, temperance badges, expensive
[21572]Henry Clay cigars, free cowbones for soup, rubber preservatives in
[21573]sealed envelopes tied with gold thread, butter scotch, pineapple rock,
[21574]billets doux in the form of cocked hats, readymade suits, porringers of
[21575]toad in the hole, bottles of Jeyes’ Fluid, purchase stamps, 40 days’
[21576]indulgences, spurious coins, dairyfed pork sausages, theatre passes,
[21577]season tickets available for all tramlines, coupons of the royal and
[21578]privileged Hungarian lottery, penny dinner counters, cheap reprints of
[21579]the World’s Twelve Worst Books: Froggy And Fritz (politic), Care of
[21580]the Baby (infantilic), 50 Meals for 7/6 (culinic), Was Jesus a Sun
[21581]Myth? (historic), Expel that Pain (medic), Infant’s Compendium of the
[21582]Universe (cosmic), Let’s All Chortle (hilaric), Canvasser’s Vade
[21583]Mecum (journalic), Loveletters of Mother Assistant (erotic), Who’s Who
[21584]in Space (astric), Songs that Reached Our Heart (melodic), Pennywise’s
[21585]Way to Wealth (parsimonic). A general rush and scramble. Women press
[21586]forward to touch the hem of Bloom’s robe. The lady Gwendolen Dubedat
[21587]bursts through the throng, leaps on his horse and kisses him on both
[21588]cheeks amid great acclamation. A magnesium flashlight photograph is
[21589]taken. Babes and sucklings are held up.)
[21590]
[21591]THE WOMEN: Little father! Little father!
[21592]
[21593]THE BABES AND SUCKLINGS:
[21594]
[21595] Clap clap hands till Poldy comes home,
[21596] Cakes in his pocket for Leo alone.
[21597](Bloom, bending down, pokes Baby Boardman gently in the stomach.)
[21598]
[21599]BABY BOARDMAN: (Hiccups, curdled milk flowing from his mouth.) Hajajaja.
[21600]
[21601]BLOOM: (Shaking hands with a blind stripling.) My more than Brother!
[21602](Placing his arms round the shoulders of an old couple.) Dear old
[21603]friends! (He plays pussy fourcorners with ragged boys and girls.)
[21604]Peep! Bopeep! (He wheels twins in a perambulator.) Ticktacktwo
[21605]wouldyousetashoe? (He performs juggler’s tricks, draws red, orange,
[21606]yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet silk handkerchiefs from his
[21607]mouth.) Roygbiv. 32 feet per second. (He consoles a widow.) Absence
[21608]makes the heart grow younger. (He dances the Highland fling with
[21609]grotesque antics.) Leg it, ye devils! (He kisses the bedsores of a
[21610]palsied veteran.) Honourable wounds! (He trips up a fat policeman.)
[21611]U. p: up. U. p: up. (He whispers in the ear of a blushing waitress and
[21612]laughs kindly.) Ah, naughty, naughty! (He eats a raw turnip offered
[21613]him by Maurice Butterly, farmer.) Fine! Splendid! (He refuses to accept
[21614]three shillings offered him by Joseph Hynes, journalist.) My dear
[21615]fellow, not at all! (He gives his coat to a beggar.) Please accept. (He
[21616]takes part in a stomach race with elderly male and female cripples.)
[21617]Come on, boys! Wriggle it, girls!
[21618]
[21619]THE CITIZEN: (Choked with emotion, brushes aside a tear in his emerald
[21620]muffler.) May the good God bless him!
[21621]
[21622](The rams’ horns sound for silence. The standard of Zion is hoisted.)
[21623]
[21624]BLOOM: (Uncloaks impressively, revealing obesity, unrolls a paper and
[21625]reads solemnly.) Aleph Beth Ghimel Daleth Hagadah Tephilim Kosher Yom
[21626]Kippur Hanukah Roschaschana Beni Brith Bar Mitzvah Mazzoth Askenazim
[21627]Meshuggah Talith.
[21628]
[21629](An official translation is read by Jimmy Henry, assistant town clerk.)
[21630]
[21631]JIMMY HENRY: The Court of Conscience is now open. His Most Catholic
[21632]Majesty will now administer open air justice. Free medical and legal
[21633]advice, solution of doubles and other problems. All cordially invited.
[21634]Given at this our loyal city of Dublin in the year 1 of the Paradisiacal
[21635]Era.
[21636]
[21637]PADDY LEONARD: What am I to do about my rates and taxes?
[21638]
[21639]BLOOM: Pay them, my friend.
[21640]
[21641]PADDY LEONARD: Thank you.
[21642]
[21643]NOSEY FLYNN: Can I raise a mortgage on my fire insurance?
[21644]
[21645]BLOOM: (Obdurately.) Sirs, take notice that by the law of torts you are
[21646]bound over in your own recognisances for six months in the sum of five
[21647]pounds.
[21648]
[21649]J. J. O’MOLLOY: A Daniel did I say? Nay! A Peter O’Brien!
[21650]
[21651]NOSEY FLYNN: Where do I draw the five pounds?
[21652]
[21653]PISSER BURKE: For bladder trouble?
[21654]
[21655]BLOOM:
[21656]
[21657] Acid. nit. hydrochlor. dil., 20 minims
[21658] Tinct. nux vom., 5 minims
[21659] Extr. taraxel. lig., 30 minims.
[21660] Aq. dis. ter in die.
[21661]CHRIS CALLINAN: What is the parallax of the subsolar ecliptic of
[21662]Aldebaran?
[21663]
[21664]BLOOM: Pleased to hear from you, Chris. K. 11.
[21665]
[21666]JOE HYNES: Why aren’t you in uniform?
[21667]
[21668]BLOOM: When my progenitor of sainted memory wore the uniform of the
[21669]Austrian despot in a dank prison where was yours?
[21670]
[21671]BEN DOLLARD: Pansies?
[21672]
[21673]BLOOM: Embellish (beautify) suburban gardens.
[21674]
[21675]BEN DOLLARD: When twins arrive?
[21676]
[21677]BLOOM: Father (pater, dad) starts thinking.
[21678]
[21679]LARRY O’ROURKE: An eightday licence for my new premises. You remember
[21680]me, sir Leo, when you were in number seven. I’m sending around a dozen
[21681]of stout for the missus.
[21682]
[21683]BLOOM: (Coldly.) You have the advantage of me. Lady Bloom accepts no
[21684]presents.
[21685]
[21686]CROFTON: This is indeed a festivity.
[21687]
[21688]BLOOM: (Solemnly.) You call it a festivity. I call it a sacrament.
[21689]
[21690]ALEXANDER KEYES: When will we have our own house of keys?
[21691]
[21692]BLOOM: I stand for the reform of municipal morals and the plain ten
[21693]commandments. New worlds for old. Union of all, jew, moslem and gentile.
[21694]Three acres and a cow for all children of nature. Saloon motor hearses.
[21695]Compulsory manual labour for all. All parks open to the public day and
[21696]night. Electric dishscrubbers. Tuberculosis, lunacy, war and mendicancy
[21697]must now cease. General amnesty, weekly carnival with masked licence,
[21698]bonuses for all, esperanto the universal language with universal
[21699]brotherhood. No more patriotism of barspongers and dropsical impostors.
[21700]Free money, free rent, free love and a free lay church in a free lay
[21701]state.
[21702]
[21703]O’MADDEN BURKE: Free fox in a free henroost.
[21704]
[21705]DAVY BYRNE: (Yawning.) Iiiiiiiiiaaaaaaach!
[21706]
[21707]BLOOM: Mixed races and mixed marriage.
[21708]
[21709]LENEHAN: What about mixed bathing?
[21710]
[21711](Bloom explains to those near him his schemes for social regeneration.
[21712]All agree with him. The keeper of the Kildare street museum appears,
[21713]dragging a lorry on which are the shaking statues of several naked
[21714]goddesses, Venus Callipyge, Venus Pandemos, Venus Metempsychosis, and
[21715]plaster figures, also naked, representing the new nine muses, Commerce,
[21716]Operatic Music, Amor, Publicity, Manufacture, Liberty of Speech, Plural
[21717]Voting, Gastronomy, Private Hygiene, Seaside Concert Entertainments,
[21718]Painless Obstetrics and Astronomy for the People.)
[21719]
[21720]FATHER FARLEY: He is an episcopalian, an agnostic, an anythingarian
[21721]seeking to overthrow our holy faith.
[21722]
[21723]MRS RIORDAN: (Tears up her will.) I’m disappointed in you! You bad
[21724]man!
[21725]
[21726]MOTHER GROGAN: (Removes her boot to throw it at Bloom.) You beast! You
[21727]abominable person!
[21728]
[21729]NOSEY FLYNN: Give us a tune, Bloom. One of the old sweet songs.
[21730]
[21731]BLOOM: (With rollicking humour.)
[21732]
[21733] I vowed that I never would leave her,
[21734] She turned out a cruel deceiver.
[21735] With my tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom.
[21736]HOPPY HOLOHAN: Good old Bloom! There’s nobody like him after all.
[21737]
[21738]PADDY LEONARD: Stage Irishman!
[21739]
[21740]BLOOM: What railway opera is like a tramline in Gibraltar? The Rows of
[21741]Casteele.
[21742]
[21743](Laughter.)
[21744]
[21745]LENEHAN: Plagiarist! Down with Bloom!
[21746]
[21747]THE VEILED SIBYL: (Enthusiastically.) I’m a Bloomite and I glory in
[21748]it. I believe in him in spite of all. I’d give my life for him, the
[21749]funniest man on earth.
[21750]
[21751]BLOOM: (Winks at the bystanders.) I bet she’s a bonny lassie.
[21752]
[21753]THEODORE PUREFOY: (In fishingcap and oilskin jacket.) He employs a
[21754]mechanical device to frustrate the sacred ends of nature.
[21755]
[21756]THE VEILED SIBYL: (Stabs herself.) My hero god! (She dies.)
[21757]
[21758](Many most attractive and enthusiastic women also commit suicide by
[21759]stabbing, drowning, drinking prussic acid, aconite, arsenic, opening
[21760]their veins, refusing food, casting themselves under steamrollers,
[21761]from the top of Nelson’s Pillar, into the great vat of Guinness’s
[21762]brewery, asphyxiating themselves by placing their heads in gasovens,
[21763]hanging themselves in stylish garters, leaping from windows of different
[21764]storeys.)
[21765]
[21766]ALEXANDER J DOWIE: (Violently.) Fellowchristians and antiBloomites, the
[21767]man called Bloom is from the roots of hell, a disgrace to christian
[21768]men. A fiendish libertine from his earliest years this stinking goat
[21769]of Mendes gave precocious signs of infantile debauchery, recalling the
[21770]cities of the plain, with a dissolute granddam. This vile hypocrite,
[21771]bronzed with infamy, is the white bull mentioned in the Apocalypse.
[21772]A worshipper of the Scarlet Woman, intrigue is the very breath of his
[21773]nostrils. The stake faggots and the caldron of boiling oil are for him.
[21774]Caliban!
[21775]
[21776]THE MOB: Lynch him! Roast him! He’s as bad as Parnell was. Mr Fox!
[21777]
[21778](Mother Grogan throws her boot at Bloom. Several shopkeepers from upper
[21779]and lower Dorset street throw objects of little or no commercial
[21780]value, hambones, condensed milk tins, unsaleable cabbage, stale bread,
[21781]sheep’s tails, odd pieces of fat.)
[21782]
[21783]BLOOM: (Excitedly.) This is midsummer madness, some ghastly joke again.
[21784]By heaven, I am guiltless as the unsunned snow! It was my brother Henry.
[21785]He is my double. He lives in number 2 Dolphin’s Barn. Slander, the
[21786]viper, has wrongfully accused me. Fellowcountrymen, sgenl inn ban bata
[21787]coisde gan capall. I call on my old friend, Dr Malachi Mulligan, sex
[21788]specialist, to give medical testimony on my behalf.
[21789]
[21790]DR MULLIGAN: (In motor jerkin, green motorgoggles on his brow.) Dr Bloom
[21791]is bisexually abnormal. He has recently escaped from Dr Eustace’s
[21792]private asylum for demented gentlemen. Born out of bedlock hereditary
[21793]epilepsy is present, the consequence of unbridled lust. Traces of
[21794]elephantiasis have been discovered among his ascendants. There are
[21795]marked symptoms of chronic exhibitionism. Ambidexterity is also
[21796]latent. He is prematurely bald from selfabuse, perversely idealistic in
[21797]consequence, a reformed rake, and has metal teeth. In consequence of a
[21798]family complex he has temporarily lost his memory and I believe him
[21799]to be more sinned against than sinning. I have made a pervaginal
[21800]examination and, after application of the acid test to 5427 anal,
[21801]axillary, pectoral and pubic hairs, I declare him to be virgo intacta.
[21802]
[21803](Bloom holds his high grade hat over his genital organs.)
[21804]
[21805]DR MADDEN: Hypsospadia is also marked. In the interest of coming
[21806]generations I suggest that the parts affected should be preserved in
[21807]spirits of wine in the national teratological museum.
[21808]
[21809]DR CROTTHERS: I have examined the patient’s urine. It is albuminoid.
[21810]Salivation is insufficient, the patellar reflex intermittent.
[21811]
[21812]DR PUNCH COSTELLO: The fetor judaicus is most perceptible.
[21813]
[21814]DR DIXON: (Reads a bill of health.) Professor Bloom is a finished
[21815]example of the new womanly man. His moral nature is simple and lovable.
[21816]Many have found him a dear man, a dear person. He is a rather quaint
[21817]fellow on the whole, coy though not feebleminded in the medical sense.
[21818]He has written a really beautiful letter, a poem in itself, to the court
[21819]missionary of the Reformed Priests’ Protection Society which clears up
[21820]everything. He is practically a total abstainer and I can affirm that
[21821]he sleeps on a straw litter and eats the most Spartan food, cold dried
[21822]grocer’s peas. He wears a hairshirt of pure Irish manufacture winter
[21823]and summer and scourges himself every Saturday. He was, I understand,
[21824]at one time a firstclass misdemeanant in Glencree reformatory. Another
[21825]report states that he was a very posthumous child. I appeal for clemency
[21826]in the name of the most sacred word our vocal organs have ever been
[21827]called upon to speak. He is about to have a baby.
[21828]
[21829](General commotion and compassion. Women faint. A wealthy American makes
[21830]a street collection for Bloom. Gold and silver coins, blank cheques,
[21831]banknotes, jewels, treasury bonds, maturing bills of exchange, I. O.
[21832]U’s, wedding rings, watchchains, lockets, necklaces and bracelets are
[21833]rapidly collected.)
[21834]
[21835]BLOOM: O, I so want to be a mother.
[21836]
[21837]MRS THORNTON: (In nursetender’s gown.) Embrace me tight, dear.
[21838]You’ll be soon over it. Tight, dear.
[21839]
[21840](Bloom embraces her tightly and bears eight male yellow and white
[21841]children. They appear on a redcarpeted staircase adorned with expensive
[21842]plants. All the octuplets are handsome, with valuable metallic faces,
[21843]wellmade, respectably dressed and wellconducted, speaking five modern
[21844]languages fluently and interested in various arts and sciences. Each
[21845]has his name printed in legible letters on his shirtfront: Nasodoro,
[21846]Goldfinger, Chrysostomos, Maindorée, Silversmile, Silberselber,
[21847]Vifargent, Panargyros. They are immediately appointed to positions of
[21848]high public trust in several different countries as managing directors
[21849]of banks, traffic managers of railways, chairmen of limited liability
[21850]companies, vicechairmen of hotel syndicates.)
[21851]
[21852]A VOICE: Bloom, are you the Messiah ben Joseph or ben David?
[21853]
[21854]BLOOM: (Darkly.) You have said it.
[21855]
[21856]BROTHER BUZZ: Then perform a miracle like Father Charles.
[21857]
[21858]BANTAM LYONS: Prophesy who will win the Saint Leger.
[21859]
[21860](Bloom walks on a net, covers his left eye with his left ear, passes
[21861]through several walls, climbs Nelson’s Pillar, hangs from the top
[21862]ledge by his eyelids, eats twelve dozen oysters (shells included),
[21863]heals several sufferers from king’s evil, contracts his face so as to
[21864]resemble many historical personages, Lord Beaconsfield, Lord Byron,
[21865]Wat Tyler, Moses of Egypt, Moses Maimonides, Moses Mendelssohn, Henry
[21866]Irving, Rip van Winkle, Kossuth, Jean Jacques Rousseau, Baron Leopold
[21867]Rothschild, Robinson Crusoe, Sherlock Holmes, Pasteur, turns each
[21868]foot simultaneously in different directions, bids the tide turn back,
[21869]eclipses the sun by extending his little finger.)
[21870]
[21871]BRINI, PAPAL NUNCIO: (In papal zouave’s uniform, steel cuirasses as
[21872]breastplate, armplates, thighplates, legplates, large profane moustaches
[21873]and brown paper mitre.) Leopoldi autem generatio. Moses begat Noah and
[21874]Noah begat Eunuch and Eunuch begat O’Halloran and O’Halloran begat
[21875]Guggenheim and Guggenheim begat Agendath and Agendath begat Netaim and
[21876]Netaim begat Le Hirsch and Le Hirsch begat Jesurum and Jesurum begat
[21877]MacKay and MacKay begat Ostrolopsky and Ostrolopsky begat Smerdoz
[21878]and Smerdoz begat Weiss and Weiss begat Schwarz and Schwarz begat
[21879]Adrianopoli and Adrianopoli begat Aranjuez and Aranjuez begat Lewy
[21880]Lawson and Lewy Lawson begat Ichabudonosor and Ichabudonosor begat
[21881]O’Donnell Magnus and O’Donnell Magnus begat Christbaum and
[21882]Christbaum begat ben Maimun and ben Maimun begat Dusty Rhodes and Dusty
[21883]Rhodes begat Benamor and Benamor begat Jones-Smith and Jones-Smith begat
[21884]Savorgnanovich and Savorgnanovich begat Jasperstone and Jasperstone
[21885]begat Vingtetunieme and Vingtetunieme begat Szombathely and Szombathely
[21886]begat Virag and Virag begat Bloom et vocabitur nomen eius Emmanuel.
[21887]
[21888]A DEADHAND: (Writes on the wall.) Bloom is a cod.
[21889]
[21890]CRAB: (In bushranger’s kit.) What did you do in the cattlecreep behind
[21891]Kilbarrack?
[21892]
[21893]A FEMALE INFANT: (Shakes a rattle.) And under Ballybough bridge?
[21894]
[21895]A HOLLYBUSH: And in the devil’s glen?
[21896]
[21897]BLOOM: (Blushes furiously all over from frons to nates, three tears
[21898]falling from his left eye.) Spare my past.
[21899]
[21900]THE IRISH EVICTED TENANTS: (In bodycoats, kneebreeches, with Donnybrook
[21901]fair shillelaghs.) Sjambok him!
[21902]
[21903](Bloom with asses’ ears seats himself in the pillory with crossed
[21904]arms, his feet protruding. He whistles Don Giovanni, a cenar teco.
[21905]Artane orphans, joining hands, caper round him. Girls of the Prison Gate
[21906]Mission, joining hands, caper round in the opposite direction.)
[21907]
[21908]THE ARTANE ORPHANS:
[21909]
[21910] You hig, you hog, you dirty dog!
[21911] You think the ladies love you!
[21912]THE PRISON GATE GIRLS:
[21913]
[21914] If you see Kay
[21915] Tell him he may
[21916] See you in tea
[21917] Tell him from me.
[21918]HORNBLOWER: (In ephod and huntingcap, announces.) And he shall carry the
[21919]sins of the people to Azazel, the spirit which is in the wilderness, and
[21920]to Lilith, the nighthag. And they shall stone him and defile him, yea,
[21921]all from Agendath Netaim and from Mizraim, the land of Ham.
[21922]
[21923](All the people cast soft pantomime stones at Bloom. Many bonafide
[21924]travellers and ownerless dogs come near him and defile him. Mastiansky
[21925]and Citron approach in gaberdines, wearing long earlocks. They wag their
[21926]beards at Bloom.)
[21927]
[21928]MASTIANSKY AND CITRON: Belial! Laemlein of Istria, the false Messiah!
[21929]Abulafia! Recant!
[21930]
[21931](George R Mesias, Bloom’s tailor, appears, a tailor’s goose under
[21932]his arm, presenting a bill.)
[21933]
[21934]MESIAS: To alteration one pair trousers eleven shillings.
[21935]
[21936]BLOOM: (Rubs his hands cheerfully.) Just like old times. Poor Bloom!
[21937]
[21938](Reuben J Dodd, blackbearded Iscariot, bad shepherd, bearing on his
[21939]shoulders the drowned corpse of his son, approaches the pillory.)
[21940]
[21941]REUBEN J: (Whispers hoarsely.) The squeak is out. A split is gone for
[21942]the flatties. Nip the first rattler.
[21943]
[21944]THE FIRE BRIGADE: Pflaap!
[21945]
[21946]BROTHER BUZZ: (Invests Bloom in a yellow habit with embroidery of
[21947]painted flames and high pointed hat. He places a bag of gunpowder round
[21948]his neck and hands him over to the civil power, saying.) Forgive him his
[21949]trespasses.
[21950]
[21951](Lieutenant Myers of the Dublin Fire Brigade by general request sets
[21952]fire to Bloom. Lamentations.)
[21953]
[21954]THE CITIZEN: Thank heaven!
[21955]
[21956]BLOOM: (In a seamless garment marked I. H. S. stands upright amid
[21957]phoenix flames.) Weep not for me, O daughters of Erin.
[21958]
[21959](He exhibits to Dublin reporters traces of burning. The daughters of
[21960]Erin, in black garments, with large prayerbooks and long lighted candles
[21961]in their hands, kneel down and pray.)
[21962]
[21963]THE DAUGHTERS OF ERIN:
[21964]
[21965] Kidney of Bloom, pray for us
[21966] Flower of the Bath, pray for us
[21967] Mentor of Menton, pray for us
[21968] Canvasser for the Freeman, pray for us
[21969] Charitable Mason, pray for us
[21970] Wandering Soap, pray for us
[21971] Sweets of Sin, pray for us
[21972] Music without Words, pray for us
[21973] Reprover of the Citizen, pray for us
[21974] Friend of all Frillies, pray for us
[21975] Midwife Most Merciful, pray for us
[21976] Potato Preservative against Plague and Pestilence, pray for us.
[21977](A choir of six hundred voices, conducted by Vincent O’Brien, sings
[21978]the chorus from Handel’s Messiah Alleluia for the Lord God Omnipotent
[21979]reigneth, accompanied on the organ by Joseph Glynn. Bloom becomes mute,
[21980]shrunken, carbonised.)
[21981]
[21982]ZOE: Talk away till you’re black in the face.
[21983]
[21984]BLOOM: (In caubeen with clay pipe stuck in the band, dusty brogues, an
[21985]emigrant’s red handkerchief bundle in his hand, leading a black bogoak
[21986]pig by a sugaun, with a smile in his eye.) Let me be going now, woman
[21987]of the house, for by all the goats in Connemara I’m after having the
[21988]father and mother of a bating. (With a tear in his eye.) All insanity.
[21989]Patriotism, sorrow for the dead, music, future of the race. To be or not
[21990]to be. Life’s dream is o’er. End it peacefully. They can live on.
[21991](He gazes far away mournfully.) I am ruined. A few pastilles of aconite.
[21992]The blinds drawn. A letter. Then lie back to rest. (He breathes softly.)
[21993]No more. I have lived. Fare. Farewell.
[21994]
[21995]ZOE: (Stiffly, her finger in her neckfillet.) Honest? Till the next
[21996]time. (She sneers.) Suppose you got up the wrong side of the bed or came
[21997]too quick with your best girl. O, I can read your thoughts!
[21998]
[21999]BLOOM: (Bitterly.) Man and woman, love, what is it? A cork and bottle.
[22000]I’m sick of it. Let everything rip.
[22001]
[22002]ZOE: (In sudden sulks.) I hate a rotter that’s insincere. Give a
[22003]bleeding whore a chance.
[22004]
[22005]BLOOM: (Repentantly.) I am very disagreeable. You are a necessary evil.
[22006]Where are you from? London?
[22007]
[22008]ZOE: (Glibly.) Hog’s Norton where the pigs plays the organs. I’m
[22009]Yorkshire born. (She holds his hand which is feeling for her nipple.) I
[22010]say, Tommy Tittlemouse. Stop that and begin worse. Have you cash for a
[22011]short time? Ten shillings?
[22012]
[22013]BLOOM: (Smiles, nods slowly.) More, houri, more.
[22014]
[22015]ZOE: And more’s mother? (She pats him offhandedly with velvet paws.)
[22016]Are you coming into the musicroom to see our new pianola? Come and
[22017]I’ll peel off.
[22018]
[22019]BLOOM: (Feeling his occiput dubiously with the unparalleled
[22020]embarrassment of a harassed pedlar gauging the symmetry of her peeled
[22021]pears.) Somebody would be dreadfully jealous if she knew. The greeneyed
[22022]monster. (Earnestly.) You know how difficult it is. I needn’t tell
[22023]you.
[22024]
[22025]ZOE: (Flattered.) What the eye can’t see the heart can’t grieve for.
[22026](She pats him.) Come.
[22027]
[22028]BLOOM: Laughing witch! The hand that rocks the cradle.
[22029]
[22030]ZOE: Babby!
[22031]
[22032]BLOOM: (In babylinen and pelisse, bigheaded, with a caul of dark hair,
[22033]fixes big eyes on her fluid slip and counts its bronze buckles with a
[22034]chubby finger, his moist tongue lolling and lisping.) One two tlee: tlee
[22035]tlwo tlone.
[22036]
[22037]THE BUCKLES: Love me. Love me not. Love me.
[22038]
[22039]ZOE: Silent means consent. (With little parted talons she captures his
[22040]hand, her forefinger giving to his palm the passtouch of secret monitor,
[22041]luring him to doom.) Hot hands cold gizzard.
[22042]
[22043](He hesitates amid scents, music, temptations. She leads him towards the
[22044]steps, drawing him by the odour of her armpits, the vice of her painted
[22045]eyes, the rustle of her slip in whose sinuous folds lurks the lion reek
[22046]of all the male brutes that have possessed her.)
[22047]
[22048]THE MALE BRUTES: (Exhaling sulphur of rut and dung and ramping in their
[22049]loosebox, faintly roaring, their drugged heads swaying to and fro.)
[22050]Good!
[22051]
[22052](Zoe and Bloom reach the doorway where two sister whores are seated.
[22053]They examine him curiously from under their pencilled brows and smile to
[22054]his hasty bow. He trips awkwardly.)
[22055]
[22056]ZOE: (Her lucky hand instantly saving him.) Hoopsa! Don’t fall
[22057]upstairs.
[22058]
[22059]BLOOM: The just man falls seven times. (He stands aside at the
[22060]threshold.) After you is good manners.
[22061]
[22062]ZOE: Ladies first, gentlemen after.
[22063]
[22064](She crosses the threshold. He hesitates. She turns and, holding out her
[22065]hands, draws him over. He hops. On the antlered rack of the hall hang
[22066]a man’s hat and waterproof. Bloom uncovers himself but, seeing them,
[22067]frowns, then smiles, preoccupied. A door on the return landing is flung
[22068]open. A man in purple shirt and grey trousers, brownsocked, passes with
[22069]an ape’s gait, his bald head and goatee beard upheld, hugging a full
[22070]waterjugjar, his twotailed black braces dangling at heels. Averting his
[22071]face quickly Bloom bends to examine on the halltable the spaniel eyes
[22072]of a running fox: then, his lifted head sniffing, follows Zoe into
[22073]the musicroom. A shade of mauve tissuepaper dims the light of the
[22074]chandelier. Round and round a moth flies, colliding, escaping. The
[22075]floor is covered with an oilcloth mosaic of jade and azure and cinnabar
[22076]rhomboids. Footmarks are stamped over it in all senses, heel to heel,
[22077]heel to hollow, toe to toe, feet locked, a morris of shuffling feet
[22078]without body phantoms, all in a scrimmage higgledypiggledy. The walls
[22079]are tapestried with a paper of yewfronds and clear glades. In the grate
[22080]is spread a screen of peacock feathers. Lynch squats crosslegged on
[22081]the hearthrug of matted hair, his cap back to the front. With a wand he
[22082]beats time slowly. Kitty Ricketts, a bony pallid whore in navy costume,
[22083]doeskin gloves rolled back from a coral wristlet, a chain purse in
[22084]her hand, sits perched on the edge of the table swinging her leg and
[22085]glancing at herself in the gilt mirror over the mantelpiece. A tag
[22086]of her corsetlace hangs slightly below her jacket. Lynch indicates
[22087]mockingly the couple at the piano.)
[22088]
[22089]KITTY: (Coughs behind her hand.) She’s a bit imbecillic. (She signs
[22090]with a waggling forefinger.) Blemblem. (Lynch lifts up her skirt and
[22091]white petticoat with the wand. She settles them down quickly.) Respect
[22092]yourself. (She hiccups, then bends quickly her sailor hat under which
[22093]her hair glows, red with henna.) O, excuse!
[22094]
[22095]ZOE: More limelight, Charley. (She goes to the chandelier and turns the
[22096]gas full cock.)
[22097]
[22098]KITTY: (Peers at the gasjet.) What ails it tonight?
[22099]
[22100]LYNCH: (Deeply.) Enter a ghost and hobgoblins.
[22101]
[22102]ZOE: Clap on the back for Zoe.
[22103]
[22104](The wand in Lynch’s hand flashes: a brass poker. Stephen stands at
[22105]the pianola on which sprawl his hat and ashplant. With two fingers he
[22106]repeats once more the series of empty fifths. Florry Talbot, a blond
[22107]feeble goosefat whore in a tatterdemalion gown of mildewed strawberry,
[22108]lolls spreadeagle in the sofacorner, her limp forearm pendent over the
[22109]bolster, listening. A heavy stye droops over her sleepy eyelid.)
[22110]
[22111]KITTY: (Hiccups again with a kick of her horsed foot.) O, excuse!
[22112]
[22113]ZOE: (Promptly.) Your boy’s thinking of you. Tie a knot on your shift.
[22114]
[22115](Kitty Ricketts bends her head. Her boa uncoils, slides, glides over
[22116]her shoulder, back, arm, chair to the ground. Lynch lifts the curled
[22117]catterpillar on his wand. She snakes her neck, nestling. Stephen glances
[22118]behind at the squatted figure with its cap back to the front.)
[22119]
[22120]STEPHEN: As a matter of fact it is of no importance whether Benedetto
[22121]Marcello found it or made it. The rite is the poet’s rest. It may be
[22122]an old hymn to Demeter or also illustrate Cœla enarrant gloriam Domini.
[22123]It is susceptible of nodes or modes as far apart as hyperphrygian
[22124]and mixolydian and of texts so divergent as priests haihooping round
[22125]David’s that is Circe’s or what am I saying Ceres’ altar and
[22126]David’s tip from the stable to his chief bassoonist about the
[22127]alrightness of his almightiness. Mais nom de nom, that is another pair
[22128]of trousers. Jetez la gourme. Faut que jeunesse se passe. (He stops,
[22129]points at Lynch’s cap, smiles, laughs.) Which side is your knowledge
[22130]bump?
[22131]
[22132]THE CAP: (With saturnine spleen.) Bah! It is because it is. Woman’s
[22133]reason. Jewgreek is greekjew. Extremes meet. Death is the highest form
[22134]of life. Bah!
[22135]
[22136]STEPHEN: You remember fairly accurately all my errors, boasts, mistakes.
[22137]How long shall I continue to close my eyes to disloyalty? Whetstone!
[22138]
[22139]THE CAP: Bah!
[22140]
[22141]STEPHEN: Here’s another for you. (He frowns.) The reason is because
[22142]the fundamental and the dominant are separated by the greatest possible
[22143]interval which...
[22144]
[22145]THE CAP: Which? Finish. You can’t.
[22146]
[22147]STEPHEN: (With an effort.) Interval which. Is the greatest possible
[22148]ellipse. Consistent with. The ultimate return. The octave. Which.
[22149]
[22150]THE CAP: Which?
[22151]
[22152](Outside the gramophone begins to blare The Holy City.)
[22153]
[22154]STEPHEN: (Abruptly.) What went forth to the ends of the world to
[22155]traverse not itself, God, the sun, Shakespeare, a commercial traveller,
[22156]having itself traversed in reality itself becomes that self. Wait a
[22157]moment. Wait a second. Damn that fellow’s noise in the street. Self
[22158]which it itself was ineluctably preconditioned to become. Ecco!
[22159]
[22160]LYNCH: (With a mocking whinny of laughter grins at Bloom and Zoe
[22161]Higgins.) What a learned speech, eh?
[22162]
[22163]ZOE: (Briskly.) God help your head, he knows more than you have
[22164]forgotten.
[22165]
[22166](With obese stupidity Florry Talbot regards Stephen.)
[22167]
[22168]FLORRY: They say the last day is coming this summer.
[22169]
[22170]KITTY: No!
[22171]
[22172]ZOE: (Explodes in laughter.) Great unjust God!
[22173]
[22174]FLORRY: (Offended.) Well, it was in the papers about Antichrist. O, my
[22175]foot’s tickling.
[22176]
[22177](Ragged barefoot newsboys, jogging a wagtail kite, patter past,
[22178]yelling.)
[22179]
[22180]THE NEWSBOYS: Stop press edition. Result of the rockinghorse races. Sea
[22181]serpent in the royal canal. Safe arrival of Antichrist.
[22182]
[22183](Stephen turns and sees Bloom.)
[22184]
[22185]STEPHEN: A time, times and half a time.
[22186]
[22187](Reuben J Antichrist, wandering jew, a clutching hand open on his spine,
[22188]stumps forward. Across his loins is slung a pilgrim’s wallet from
[22189]which protrude promissory notes and dishonoured bills. Aloft over his
[22190]shoulder he bears a long boatpole from the hook of which the sodden
[22191]huddled mass of his only son, saved from Liffey waters, hangs from
[22192]the slack of its breeches. A hobgoblin in the image of Punch Costello,
[22193]hipshot, crookbacked, hydrocephalic, prognathic with receding forehead
[22194]and Ally Sloper nose, tumbles in somersaults through the gathering
[22195]darkness.)
[22196]
[22197]ALL: What?
[22198]
[22199]THE HOBGOBLIN: (His jaws chattering, capers to and fro, goggling his
[22200]eyes, squeaking, kangaroohopping with outstretched clutching arms, then
[22201]all at once thrusts his lipless face through the fork of his thighs.) Il
[22202]vient! C’est moi! L’homme qui rit! L’homme primigène! (He whirls
[22203]round and round with dervish howls.) Sieurs et dames, faites vos jeux!
[22204](He crouches juggling. Tiny roulette planets fly from his hands.) Les
[22205]jeux sont faits! (The planets rush together, uttering crepitant cracks.)
[22206]Rien va plus! (The planets, buoyant balloons, sail swollen up and away.
[22207]He springs off into vacuum.)
[22208]
[22209]FLORRY: (Sinking into torpor, crossing herself secretly.) The end of the
[22210]world!
[22211]
[22212](A female tepid effluvium leaks out from her. Nebulous obscurity
[22213]occupies space. Through the drifting fog without the gramophone blares
[22214]over coughs and feetshuffling.)
[22215]
[22216]THE GRAMOPHONE: Jerusalem!
[22217]
[22218]Open your gates and sing
[22219]
[22220]Hosanna...
[22221]
[22222](A rocket rushes up the sky and bursts. A white star falls from it,
[22223]proclaiming the consummation of all things and second coming of Elijah.
[22224]Along an infinite invisible tightrope taut from zenith to nadir the End
[22225]of the World, a twoheaded octopus in gillie’s kilts, busby and tartan
[22226]filibegs, whirls through the murk, head over heels, in the form of the
[22227]Three Legs of Man.)
[22228]
[22229]THE END OF THE WORLD: (With a Scotch accent.) Wha’ll dance the keel
[22230]row, the keel row, the keel row?
[22231]
[22232](Over the possing drift and choking breathcoughs, Elijah’s voice,
[22233]harsh as a corncrake’s, jars on high. Perspiring in a loose lawn
[22234]surplice with funnel sleeves he is seen, vergerfaced, above a rostrum
[22235]about which the banner of old glory is draped. He thumps the parapet.)
[22236]
[22237]ELIJAH: No yapping, if you please, in this booth. Jake Crane, Creole
[22238]Sue, Dove Campbell, Abe Kirschner, do your coughing with your mouths
[22239]shut. Say, I am operating all this trunk line. Boys, do it now. God’s
[22240]time is 12.25. Tell mother you’ll be there. Rush your order and you
[22241]play a slick ace. Join on right here. Book through to eternity junction,
[22242]the nonstop run. Just one word more. Are you a god or a doggone clod?
[22243]If the second advent came to Coney Island are we ready? Florry Christ,
[22244]Stephen Christ, Zoe Christ, Bloom Christ, Kitty Christ, Lynch Christ,
[22245]it’s up to you to sense that cosmic force. Have we cold feet about
[22246]the cosmos? No. Be on the side of the angels. Be a prism. You have that
[22247]something within, the higher self. You can rub shoulders with a Jesus, a
[22248]Gautama, an Ingersoll. Are you all in this vibration? I say you are. You
[22249]once nobble that, congregation, and a buck joyride to heaven becomes
[22250]a back number. You got me? It’s a lifebrightener, sure. The hottest
[22251]stuff ever was. It’s the whole pie with jam in. It’s just the cutest
[22252]snappiest line out. It is immense, supersumptuous. It restores. It
[22253]vibrates. I know and I am some vibrator. Joking apart and, getting down
[22254]to bedrock, A. J. Christ Dowie and the harmonial philosophy, have you
[22255]got that? O. K. Seventyseven west sixtyninth street. Got me? That’s
[22256]it. You call me up by sunphone any old time. Bumboosers, save your
[22257]stamps. (He shouts.) Now then our glory song. All join heartily in the
[22258]singing. Encore! (He sings.) Jeru...
[22259]
[22260]THE GRAMOPHONE: (Drowning his voice.) Whorusalaminyourhighhohhhh... (The
[22261]disc rasps gratingly against the needle.)
[22262]
[22263]THE THREE WHORES: (Covering their ears, squawk.) Ahhkkk!
[22264]
[22265]ELIJAH: (In rolledup shirtsleeves, black in the face, shouts at the top
[22266]of his voice, his arms uplifted.) Big Brother up there, Mr President,
[22267]you hear what I done just been saying to you. Certainly, I sort of
[22268]believe strong in you, Mr President. I certainly am thinking now Miss
[22269]Higgins and Miss Ricketts got religion way inside them. Certainly seems
[22270]to me I don’t never see no wusser scared female than the way you been,
[22271]Miss Florry, just now as I done seed you. Mr President, you come long
[22272]and help me save our sisters dear. (He winks at his audience.) Our Mr
[22273]President, he twig the whole lot and he aint saying nothing.
[22274]
[22275]KITTY-KATE: I forgot myself. In a weak moment I erred and did what I did
[22276]on Constitution hill. I was confirmed by the bishop and enrolled in the
[22277]brown scapular. My mother’s sister married a Montmorency. It was a
[22278]working plumber was my ruination when I was pure.
[22279]
[22280]ZOE-FANNY: I let him larrup it into me for the fun of it.
[22281]
[22282]FLORRY-TERESA: It was in consequence of a portwine beverage on top of
[22283]Hennessy’s three star. I was guilty with Whelan when he slipped into
[22284]the bed.
[22285]
[22286]STEPHEN: In the beginning was the word, in the end the world without
[22287]end. Blessed be the eight beatitudes.
[22288]
[22289](The beatitudes, Dixon, Madden, Crotthers, Costello, Lenehan, Bannon,
[22290]Mulligan and Lynch in white surgical students’ gowns, four abreast,
[22291]goosestepping, tramp fast past in noisy marching.)
[22292]
[22293]THE BEATITUDES: (Incoherently.) Beer beef battledog buybull businum
[22294]barnum buggerum bishop.
[22295]
[22296]LYSTER: (In quakergrey kneebreeches and broadbrimmed hat, says
[22297]discreetly.) He is our friend. I need not mention names. Seek thou the
[22298]light.
[22299]
[22300](He corantos by. Best enters in hairdresser’s attire, shinily
[22301]laundered, his locks in curlpapers. He leads John Eglinton who wears a
[22302]mandarin’s kimono of Nankeen yellow, lizardlettered, and a high pagoda
[22303]hat.)
[22304]
[22305]BEST: (Smiling, lifts the hat and displays a shaven poll from the crown
[22306]of which bristles a pigtail toupee tied with an orange topknot.) I was
[22307]just beautifying him, don’t you know. A thing of beauty, don’t you
[22308]know, Yeats says, or I mean, Keats says.
[22309]
[22310]JOHN EGLINTON: (Produces a greencapped dark lantern and flashes it
[22311]towards a corner: with carping accent.) Esthetics and cosmetics are for
[22312]the boudoir. I am out for truth. Plain truth for a plain man. Tanderagee
[22313]wants the facts and means to get them.
[22314]
[22315](In the cone of the searchlight behind the coalscuttle, ollave,
[22316]holyeyed, the bearded figure of Mananaun MacLir broods, chin on knees.
[22317]He rises slowly. A cold seawind blows from his druid mouth. About his
[22318]head writhe eels and elvers. He is encrusted with weeds and shells. His
[22319]right hand holds a bicycle pump. His left hand grasps a huge crayfish by
[22320]its two talons.)
[22321]
[22322]MANANAUN MACLIR: (With a voice of waves.) Aum! Hek! Wal! Ak! Lub! Mor!
[22323]Ma! White yoghin of the gods. Occult pimander of Hermes Trismegistos.
[22324](With a voice of whistling seawind.) Punarjanam patsypunjaub! I won’t
[22325]have my leg pulled. It has been said by one: beware the left, the cult
[22326]of Shakti. (With a cry of stormbirds.) Shakti Shiva, darkhidden Father!
[22327](He smites with his bicycle pump the crayfish in his left hand. On its
[22328]cooperative dial glow the twelve signs of the zodiac. He wails with
[22329]the vehemence of the ocean.) Aum! Baum! Pyjaum! I am the light of the
[22330]homestead! I am the dreamery creamery butter.
[22331]
[22332](A skeleton judashand strangles the light. The green light wanes to
[22333]mauve. The gasjet wails whistling.)
[22334]
[22335]THE GASJET: Pooah! Pfuiiiiiii!
[22336]
[22337](Zoe runs to the chandelier and, crooking her leg, adjusts the mantle.)
[22338]
[22339]ZOE: Who has a fag as I’m here?
[22340]
[22341]LYNCH: (Tossing a cigarette on to the table.) Here.
[22342]
[22343]ZOE: (Her head perched aside in mock pride.) Is that the way to hand the
[22344]pot to a lady? (She stretches up to light the cigarette over the flame,
[22345]twirling it slowly, showing the brown tufts of her armpits. Lynch with
[22346]his poker lifts boldly a side of her slip. Bare from her garters up her
[22347]flesh appears under the sapphire a nixie’s green. She puffs calmly at
[22348]her cigarette.) Can you see the beautyspot of my behind?
[22349]
[22350]LYNCH: I’m not looking
[22351]
[22352]ZOE: (Makes sheep’s eyes.) No? You wouldn’t do a less thing. Would
[22353]you suck a lemon?
[22354]
[22355](Squinting in mock shame she glances with sidelong meaning at Bloom,
[22356]then twists round towards him, pulling her slip free of the poker. Blue
[22357]fluid again flows over her flesh. Bloom stands, smiling desirously,
[22358]twirling his thumbs. Kitty Ricketts licks her middle finger with her
[22359]spittle and, gazing in the mirror, smooths both eyebrows. Lipoti Virag,
[22360]basilicogrammate, chutes rapidly down through the chimneyflue and struts
[22361]two steps to the left on gawky pink stilts. He is sausaged into several
[22362]overcoats and wears a brown macintosh under which he holds a roll
[22363]of parchment. In his left eye flashes the monocle of Cashel Boyle
[22364]O’Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell. On his head is perched an
[22365]Egyptian pshent. Two quills project over his ears.)
[22366]
[22367]VIRAG: (Heels together, bows.) My name is Virag Lipoti, of Szombathely.
[22368](He coughs thoughtfully, drily.) Promiscuous nakedness is much in
[22369]evidence hereabouts, eh? Inadvertently her backview revealed the fact
[22370]that she is not wearing those rather intimate garments of which you
[22371]are a particular devotee. The injection mark on the thigh I hope you
[22372]perceived? Good.
[22373]
[22374]BLOOM: Granpapachi. But...
[22375]
[22376]VIRAG: Number two on the other hand, she of the cherry rouge and
[22377]coiffeuse white, whose hair owes not a little to our tribal elixir of
[22378]gopherwood, is in walking costume and tightly staysed by her sit, I
[22379]should opine. Backbone in front, so to say. Correct me but I always
[22380]understood that the act so performed by skittish humans with glimpses of
[22381]lingerie appealed to you in virtue of its exhibitionististicicity. In a
[22382]word. Hippogriff. Am I right?
[22383]
[22384]BLOOM: She is rather lean.
[22385]
[22386]VIRAG: (Not unpleasantly.) Absolutely! Well observed and those pannier
[22387]pockets of the skirt and slightly pegtop effect are devised to suggest
[22388]bunchiness of hip. A new purchase at some monster sale for which a gull
[22389]has been mulcted. Meretricious finery to deceive the eye. Observe the
[22390]attention to details of dustspecks. Never put on you tomorrow what you
[22391]can wear today. Parallax! (With a nervous twitch of his head.) Did you
[22392]hear my brain go snap? Pollysyllabax!
[22393]
[22394]BLOOM: (An elbow resting in a hand, a forefinger against his cheek.) She
[22395]seems sad.
[22396]
[22397]VIRAG: (Cynically, his weasel teeth bared yellow, draws down his left
[22398]eye with a finger and barks hoarsely.) Hoax! Beware of the flapper
[22399]and bogus mournful. Lily of the alley. All possess bachelor’s button
[22400]discovered by Rualdus Columbus. Tumble her. Columble her. Chameleon.
[22401](More genially.) Well then, permit me to draw your attention to item
[22402]number three. There is plenty of her visible to the naked eye. Observe
[22403]the mass of oxygenated vegetable matter on her skull. What ho, she
[22404]bumps! The ugly duckling of the party, longcasted and deep in keel.
[22405]
[22406]BLOOM: (Regretfully.) When you come out without your gun.
[22407]
[22408]VIRAG: We can do you all brands, mild, medium and strong. Pay your
[22409]money, take your choice. How happy could you be with either...
[22410]
[22411]BLOOM: With...?
[22412]
[22413]VIRAG: (His tongue upcurling.) Lyum! Look. Her beam is broad. She is
[22414]coated with quite a considerable layer of fat. Obviously mammal in
[22415]weight of bosom you remark that she has in front well to the fore two
[22416]protuberances of very respectable dimensions, inclined to fall in the
[22417]noonday soupplate, while on her rere lower down are two additional
[22418]protuberances, suggestive of potent rectum and tumescent for palpation,
[22419]which leave nothing to be desired save compactness. Such fleshy parts
[22420]are the product of careful nurture. When coopfattened their livers
[22421]reach an elephantine size. Pellets of new bread with fennygreek and
[22422]gumbenjamin swamped down by potions of green tea endow them during their
[22423]brief existence with natural pincushions of quite colossal blubber. That
[22424]suits your book, eh? Fleshhotpots of Egypt to hanker after. Wallow in
[22425]it. Lycopodium. (His throat twitches.) Slapbang! There he goes again.
[22426]
[22427]BLOOM: The stye I dislike.
[22428]
[22429]VIRAG: (Arches his eyebrows.) Contact with a goldring, they say.
[22430]Argumentum ad feminam, as we said in old Rome and ancient Greece in
[22431]the consulship of Diplodocus and Ichthyosauros. For the rest Eve’s
[22432]sovereign remedy. Not for sale. Hire only. Huguenot. (He twitches.) It
[22433]is a funny sound. (He coughs encouragingly.) But possibly it is only a
[22434]wart. I presume you shall have remembered what I will have taught you on
[22435]that head? Wheatenmeal with honey and nutmeg.
[22436]
[22437]BLOOM: (Reflecting.) Wheatenmeal with lycopodium and syllabax. This
[22438]searching ordeal. It has been an unusually fatiguing day, a chapter of
[22439]accidents. Wait. I mean, wartsblood spreads warts, you said...
[22440]
[22441]VIRAG: (Severely, his nose hardhumped, his side eye winking.) Stop
[22442]twirling your thumbs and have a good old thunk. See, you have forgotten.
[22443]Exercise your mnemotechnic. La causa è santa. Tara. Tara. (Aside.) He
[22444]will surely remember.
[22445]
[22446]BLOOM: Rosemary also did I understand you to say or willpower over
[22447]parasitic tissues. Then nay no I have an inkling. The touch of a
[22448]deadhand cures. Mnemo?
[22449]
[22450]VIRAG: (Excitedly.) I say so. I say so. E’en so. Technic. (He taps his
[22451]parchmentroll energetically.) This book tells you how to act with all
[22452]descriptive particulars. Consult index for agitated fear of aconite,
[22453]melancholy of muriatic, priapic pulsatilla. Virag is going to talk about
[22454]amputation. Our old friend caustic. They must be starved. Snip off with
[22455]horsehair under the denned neck. But, to change the venue to the Bulgar
[22456]and the Basque, have you made up your mind whether you like or dislike
[22457]women in male habiliments? (With a dry snigger.) You intended to devote
[22458]an entire year to the study of the religious problem and the summer
[22459]months of 1886 to square the circle and win that million. Pomegranate!
[22460]From the sublime to the ridiculous is but a step. Pyjamas, let us say?
[22461]Or stockingette gussetted knickers, closed? Or, put we the case,
[22462]those complicated combinations, camiknickers? (He crows derisively.)
[22463]Keekeereekee!
[22464]
[22465](Bloom surveys uncertainly the three whores then gazes at the veiled
[22466]mauve light, hearing the everflying moth.)
[22467]
[22468]BLOOM: I wanted then to have now concluded. Nightdress was never. Hence
[22469]this. But tomorrow is a new day will be. Past was is today. What now is
[22470]will then morrow as now was be past yester.
[22471]
[22472]VIRAG: (Prompts in a pig’s whisper.) Insects of the day spend their
[22473]brief existence in reiterated coition, lured by the smell of the
[22474]inferiorly pulchritudinous female possessing extendified pudendal nerve
[22475]in dorsal region. Pretty Poll! (His yellow parrotbeak gabbles nasally.)
[22476]They had a proverb in the Carpathians in or about the year five thousand
[22477]five hundred and fifty of our era. One tablespoonful of honey will
[22478]attract friend Bruin more than half a dozen barrels of first choice malt
[22479]vinegar. Bear’s buzz bothers bees. But of this apart. At another time
[22480]we may resume. We were very pleased, we others. (He coughs and, bending
[22481]his brow, rubs his nose thoughtfully with a scooping hand.) You shall
[22482]find that these night insects follow the light. An illusion for remember
[22483]their complex unadjustable eye. For all these knotty points see the
[22484]seventeenth book of my Fundamentals of Sexology or the Love Passion
[22485]which Doctor L. B. says is the book sensation of the year. Some, to
[22486]example, there are again whose movements are automatic. Perceive. That
[22487]is his appropriate sun. Nightbird nightsun nighttown. Chase me, Charley!
[22488](He blows into Bloom’s ear.) Buzz!
[22489]
[22490]BLOOM: Bee or bluebottle too other day butting shadow on wall dazed self
[22491]then me wandered dazed down shirt good job I...
[22492]
[22493]VIRAG: (His face impassive, laughs in a rich feminine key.) Splendid!
[22494]Spanish fly in his fly or mustard plaster on his dibble. (He gobbles
[22495]gluttonously with turkey wattles.) Bubbly jock! Bubbly jock! Where are
[22496]we? Open Sesame! Cometh forth! (He unrolls his parchment rapidly and
[22497]reads, his glowworm’s nose running backwards over the letters which he
[22498]claws.) Stay, good friend. I bring thee thy answer. Redbank oysters will
[22499]shortly be upon us. I’m the best o’cook. Those succulent bivalves
[22500]may help us and the truffles of Perigord, tubers dislodged through
[22501]mister omnivorous porker, were unsurpassed in cases of nervous debility
[22502]or viragitis. Though they stink yet they sting. (He wags his head
[22503]with cackling raillery.) Jocular. With my eyeglass in my ocular. (He
[22504]sneezes.) Amen!
[22505]
[22506]BLOOM: (Absently.) Ocularly woman’s bivalve case is worse. Always open
[22507]sesame. The cloven sex. Why they fear vermin, creeping things. Yet Eve
[22508]and the serpent contradicts. Not a historical fact. Obvious analogy to
[22509]my idea. Serpents too are gluttons for woman’s milk. Wind their way
[22510]through miles of omnivorous forest to sucksucculent her breast dry. Like
[22511]those bubblyjocular Roman matrons one reads of in Elephantuliasis.
[22512]
[22513]VIRAG: (His mouth projected in hard wrinkles, eyes stonily forlornly
[22514]closed, psalms in outlandish monotone.) That the cows with their those
[22515]distended udders that they have been the the known...
[22516]
[22517]BLOOM: I am going to scream. I beg your pardon. Ah? So. (He repeats.)
[22518]Spontaneously to seek out the saurian’s lair in order to entrust their
[22519]teats to his avid suction. Ant milks aphis. (Profoundly.) Instinct rules
[22520]the world. In life. In death.
[22521]
[22522]VIRAG: (Head askew, arches his back and hunched wingshoulders, peers
[22523]at the moth out of blear bulged eyes, points a horning claw and cries.)
[22524]Who’s moth moth? Who’s dear Gerald? Dear Ger, that you? O dear,
[22525]he is Gerald. O, I much fear he shall be most badly burned. Will some
[22526]pleashe pershon not now impediment so catastrophics mit agitation of
[22527]firstclass tablenumpkin? (He mews.) Puss puss puss puss! (He sighs,
[22528]draws back and stares sideways down with dropping underjaw.) Well, well.
[22529]He doth rest anon. (He snaps his jaws suddenly on the air.)
[22530]
[22531]THE MOTH:
[22532]
[22533] I’m a tiny tiny thing
[22534] Ever flying in the spring
[22535] Round and round a ringaring.
[22536] Long ago I was a king
[22537] Now I do this kind of thing
[22538] On the wing, on the wing!
[22539] Bing!
[22540](He rushes against the mauve shade, flapping noisily.) Pretty pretty
[22541]pretty pretty pretty pretty petticoats.
[22542]
[22543](From left upper entrance with two gliding steps Henry Flower comes
[22544]forward to left front centre. He wears a dark mantle and drooping plumed
[22545]sombrero. He carries a silverstringed inlaid dulcimer and a longstemmed
[22546]bamboo Jacob’s pipe, its clay bowl fashioned as a female head. He
[22547]wears dark velvet hose and silverbuckled pumps. He has the romantic
[22548]Saviour’s face with flowing locks, thin beard and moustache. His
[22549]spindlelegs and sparrow feet are those of the tenor Mario, prince of
[22550]Candia. He settles down his goffered ruffs and moistens his lips with a
[22551]passage of his amorous tongue.)
[22552]
[22553]HENRY: (In a low dulcet voice, touching the strings of his guitar.)
[22554]There is a flower that bloometh.
[22555]
[22556](Virag truculent, his jowl set, stares at the lamp. Grave Bloom regards
[22557]Zoe’s neck. Henry gallant turns with pendant dewlap to the piano.)
[22558]
[22559]STEPHEN: (To himself.) Play with your eyes shut. Imitate pa. Filling my
[22560]belly with husks of swine. Too much of this. I will arise and go to my.
[22561]Expect this is the. Steve, thou art in a parlous way. Must visit old
[22562]Deasy or telegraph. Our interview of this morning has left on me a deep
[22563]impression. Though our ages. Will write fully tomorrow. I’m partially
[22564]drunk, by the way. (He touches the keys again.) Minor chord comes now.
[22565]Yes. Not much however.
[22566]
[22567](Almidano Artifoni holds out a batonroll of music with vigorous
[22568]moustachework.)
[22569]
[22570]ARTIFONI: Ci rifletta. Lei rovina tutto.
[22571]
[22572]FLORRY: Sing us something. Love’s old sweet song.
[22573]
[22574]STEPHEN: No voice. I am a most finished artist. Lynch, did I show you
[22575]the letter about the lute?
[22576]
[22577]FLORRY: (Smirking.) The bird that can sing and won’t sing.
[22578]
[22579](The Siamese twins, Philip Drunk and Philip Sober, two Oxford dons with
[22580]lawnmowers, appear in the window embrasure. Both are masked with Matthew
[22581]Arnold’s face.)
[22582]
[22583]PHILIP SOBER: Take a fool’s advice. All is not well. Work it out with
[22584]the buttend of a pencil, like a good young idiot. Three pounds twelve
[22585]you got, two notes, one sovereign, two crowns, if youth but knew.
[22586]Mooney’s en ville, Mooney’s sur mer, the Moira, Larchet’s, Holles
[22587]street hospital, Burke’s. Eh? I am watching you.
[22588]
[22589]PHILIP DRUNK: (Impatiently.) Ah, bosh, man. Go to hell! I paid my way.
[22590]If I could only find out about octaves. Reduplication of personality.
[22591]Who was it told me his name? (His lawnmower begins to purr.) Aha, yes.
[22592]Zoe mou sas agapo. Have a notion I was here before. When was it not
[22593]Atkinson his card I have somewhere. Mac Somebody. Unmack I have it. He
[22594]told me about, hold on, Swinburne, was it, no?
[22595]
[22596]FLORRY: And the song?
[22597]
[22598]STEPHEN: Spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.
[22599]
[22600]FLORRY: Are you out of Maynooth? You’re like someone I knew once.
[22601]
[22602]STEPHEN: Out of it now. (To himself.) Clever.
[22603]
[22604]PHILIP DRUNK AND PHILIP SOBER: (Their lawnmowers purring with a rigadoon
[22605]of grasshalms.) Clever ever. Out of it out of it. By the bye have
[22606]you the book, the thing, the ashplant? Yes, there it, yes. Cleverever
[22607]outofitnow. Keep in condition. Do like us.
[22608]
[22609]ZOE: There was a priest down here two nights ago to do his bit of
[22610]business with his coat buttoned up. You needn’t try to hide, I says to
[22611]him. I know you’ve a Roman collar.
[22612]
[22613]VIRAG: Perfectly logical from his standpoint. Fall of man. (Harshly, his
[22614]pupils waxing.) To hell with the pope! Nothing new under the sun. I am
[22615]the Virag who disclosed the Sex Secrets of Monks and Maidens. Why I left
[22616]the church of Rome. Read the Priest, the Woman and the Confessional.
[22617]Penrose. Flipperty Jippert. (He wriggles.) Woman, undoing with sweet
[22618]pudor her belt of rushrope, offers her allmoist yoni to man’s lingam.
[22619]Short time after man presents woman with pieces of jungle meat. Woman
[22620]shows joy and covers herself with featherskins. Man loves her yoni
[22621]fiercely with big lingam, the stiff one. (He cries.) Coactus volui. Then
[22622]giddy woman will run about. Strong man grapses woman’s wrist. Woman
[22623]squeals, bites, spucks. Man, now fierce angry, strikes woman’s fat
[22624]yadgana. (He chases his tail.) Piffpaff! Popo! (He stops, sneezes.)
[22625]Pchp! (He worries his butt.) Prrrrrht!
[22626]
[22627]LYNCH: I hope you gave the good father a penance. Nine glorias for
[22628]shooting a bishop.
[22629]
[22630]ZOE: (Spouts walrus smoke through her nostrils.) He couldn’t get a
[22631]connection. Only, you know, sensation. A dry rush.
[22632]
[22633]BLOOM: Poor man!
[22634]
[22635]ZOE: (Lightly.) Only for what happened him.
[22636]
[22637]BLOOM: How?
[22638]
[22639]VIRAG: (A diabolic rictus of black luminosity contracting his visage,
[22640]cranes his scraggy neck forward. He lifts a mooncalf nozzle and howls.)
[22641]Verfluchte Goim! He had a father, forty fathers. He never existed. Pig
[22642]God! He had two left feet. He was Judas Iacchia, a Libyan eunuch, the
[22643]pope’s bastard. (He leans out on tortured forepaws, elbows bent rigid,
[22644]his eye agonising in his flat skullneck and yelps over the mute world.)
[22645]A son of a whore. Apocalypse.
[22646]
[22647]KITTY: And Mary Shortall that was in the lock with the pox she got
[22648]from Jimmy Pidgeon in the blue caps had a child off him that couldn’t
[22649]swallow and was smothered with the convulsions in the mattress and we
[22650]all subscribed for the funeral.
[22651]
[22652]PHILIP DRUNK: (Gravely.) Qui vous a mis dans cette fichue position,
[22653]Philippe?
[22654]
[22655]PHILIP SOBER: (Gaily.) C’était le sacré pigeon, Philippe.
[22656]
[22657](Kitty unpins her hat and sets it down calmly, patting her henna hair.
[22658]And a prettier, a daintier head of winsome curls was never seen on a
[22659]whore’s shoulders. Lynch puts on her hat. She whips it off.)
[22660]
[22661]LYNCH: (Laughs.) And to such delights has Metchnikoff inoculated
[22662]anthropoid apes.
[22663]
[22664]FLORRY: (Nods.) Locomotor ataxy.
[22665]
[22666]ZOE: (Gaily.) O, my dictionary.
[22667]
[22668]LYNCH: Three wise virgins.
[22669]
[22670]VIRAG: (Agueshaken, profuse yellow spawn foaming over his bony epileptic
[22671]lips.) She sold lovephiltres, whitewax, orangeflower. Panther, the Roman
[22672]centurion, polluted her with his genitories. (He sticks out a flickering
[22673]phosphorescent scorpion tongue, his hand on his fork.) Messiah! He burst
[22674]her tympanum. (With gibbering baboon’s cries he jerks his hips in the
[22675]cynical spasm.) Hik! Hek! Hak! Hok! Huk! Kok! Kuk!
[22676]
[22677](Ben Jumbo Dollard, rubicund, musclebound, hairynostrilled, hugebearded,
[22678]cabbageeared, shaggychested, shockmaned, fatpapped, stands forth, his
[22679]loins and genitals tightened into a pair of black bathing bagslops.)
[22680]
[22681]BEN DOLLARD: (Nakkering castanet bones in his huge padded paws, yodels
[22682]jovially in base barreltone.) When love absorbs my ardent soul.
[22683]
[22684](The virgins Nurse Callan and Nurse Quigley burst through the
[22685]ringkeepers and the ropes and mob him with open arms.)
[22686]
[22687]THE VIRGINS: (Gushingly.) Big Ben! Ben my Chree!
[22688]
[22689]A VOICE: Hold that fellow with the bad breeches.
[22690]
[22691]BEN DOLLARD: (Smites his thigh in abundant laughter.) Hold him now.
[22692]
[22693]HENRY: (Caressing on his breast a severed female head, murmurs.) Thine
[22694]heart, mine love. (He plucks his lutestrings.) When first I saw...
[22695]
[22696]VIRAG: (Sloughing his skins, his multitudinous plumage moulting.) Rats!
[22697](He yawns, showing a coalblack throat, and closes his jaws by an upward
[22698]push of his parchmentroll.) After having said which I took my departure.
[22699]Farewell. Fare thee well. Dreck!
[22700]
[22701](Henry Flower combs his moustache and beard rapidly with a pocketcomb
[22702]and gives a cow’s lick to his hair. Steered by his rapier, he glides
[22703]to the door, his wild harp slung behind him. Virag reaches the door in
[22704]two ungainly stilthops, his tail cocked, and deftly claps sideways on
[22705]the wall a pusyellow flybill, butting it with his head.)
[22706]
[22707]THE FLYBILL: K. 11. Post No Bills. Strictly confidential. Dr Hy Franks.
[22708]
[22709]HENRY: All is lost now.
[22710]
[22711](Virag unscrews his head in a trice and holds it under his arm.)
[22712]
[22713]VIRAG’S HEAD: Quack!
[22714]
[22715](Exeunt severally.)
[22716]
[22717]STEPHEN: (Over his shoulder to Zoe.) You would have preferred
[22718]the fighting parson who founded the protestant error. But beware
[22719]Antisthenes, the dog sage, and the last end of Arius Heresiarchus. The
[22720]agony in the closet.
[22721]
[22722]LYNCH: All one and the same God to her.
[22723]
[22724]STEPHEN: (Devoutly.) And sovereign Lord of all things.
[22725]
[22726]FLORRY: (To Stephen.) I’m sure you’re a spoiled priest. Or a monk.
[22727]
[22728]LYNCH: He is. A cardinal’s son.
[22729]
[22730]STEPHEN: Cardinal sin. Monks of the screw.
[22731]
[22732](His Eminence Simon Stephen Cardinal Dedalus, Primate of all Ireland,
[22733]appears in the doorway, dressed in red soutane, sandals and socks. Seven
[22734]dwarf simian acolytes, also in red, cardinal sins, uphold his train,
[22735]peeping under it. He wears a battered silk hat sideways on his head. His
[22736]thumbs are stuck in his armpits and his palms outspread. Round his
[22737]neck hangs a rosary of corks ending on his breast in a corkscrew cross.
[22738]Releasing his thumbs, he invokes grace from on high with large wave
[22739]gestures and proclaims with bloated pomp:)
[22740]
[22741]THE CARDINAL:
[22742]
[22743] Conservio lies captured
[22744] He lies in the lowest dungeon
[22745] With manacles and chains around his limbs
[22746] Weighing upwards of three tons.
[22747](He looks at all for a moment, his right eye closed tight, his left
[22748]cheek puffed out. Then, unable to repress his merriment, he rocks to and
[22749]fro, arms akimbo, and sings with broad rollicking humour:)
[22750]
[22751] O, the poor little fellow
[22752] Hihihihihis legs they were yellow
[22753] He was plump, fat and heavy and brisk as a snake
[22754] But some bloody savage
[22755] To graize his white cabbage
[22756] He murdered Nell Flaherty’s duckloving drake.
[22757](A multitude of midges swarms white over his robe. He scratches himself
[22758]with crossed arms at his ribs, grimacing, and exclaims:)
[22759]
[22760]I’m suffering the agony of the damned. By the hoky fiddle, thanks
[22761]be to Jesus those funny little chaps are not unanimous. If they were
[22762]they’d walk me off the face of the bloody globe.
[22763]
[22764](His head aslant he blesses curtly with fore and middle fingers, imparts
[22765]the Easter kiss and doubleshuffles off comically, swaying his hat from
[22766]side to side, shrinking quickly to the size of his trainbearers. The
[22767]dwarf acolytes, giggling, peeping, nudging, ogling, Easterkissing,
[22768]zigzag behind him. His voice is heard mellow from afar, merciful male,
[22769]melodious:)
[22770]
[22771] Shall carry my heart to thee,
[22772] Shall carry my heart to thee,
[22773] And the breath of the balmy night
[22774] Shall carry my heart to thee!
[22775](The trick doorhandle turns.)
[22776]
[22777]THE DOORHANDLE: Theeee!
[22778]
[22779]ZOE: The devil is in that door.
[22780]
[22781](A male form passes down the creaking staircase and is heard taking the
[22782]waterproof and hat from the rack. Bloom starts forward involuntarily
[22783]and, half closing the door as he passes, takes the chocolate from his
[22784]pocket and offers it nervously to Zoe.)
[22785]
[22786]ZOE: (Sniffs his hair briskly.) Hmmm! Thank your mother for the rabbits.
[22787]I’m very fond of what I like.
[22788]
[22789]BLOOM: (Hearing a male voice in talk with the whores on the doorstep,
[22790]pricks his ears.) If it were he? After? Or because not? Or the double
[22791]event?
[22792]
[22793]ZOE: (Tears open the silverfoil.) Fingers was made before forks. (She
[22794]breaks off and nibbles a piece, gives a piece to Kitty Ricketts and then
[22795]turns kittenishly to Lynch.) No objection to French lozenges? (He nods.
[22796]She taunts him.) Have it now or wait till you get it? (He opens his
[22797]mouth, his head cocked. She whirls the prize in left circle. His head
[22798]follows. She whirls it back in right circle. He eyes her.) Catch!
[22799]
[22800](She tosses a piece. With an adroit snap he catches it and bites it
[22801]through with a crack.)
[22802]
[22803]KITTY: (Chewing.) The engineer I was with at the bazaar does have lovely
[22804]ones. Full of the best liqueurs. And the viceroy was there with his
[22805]lady. The gas we had on the Toft’s hobbyhorses. I’m giddy still.
[22806]
[22807]BLOOM: (In Svengali’s fur overcoat, with folded arms and Napoleonic
[22808]forelock, frowns in ventriloquial exorcism with piercing eagle glance
[22809]towards the door. Then rigid with left foot advanced he makes a swift
[22810]pass with impelling fingers and gives the sign of past master, drawing
[22811]his right arm downwards from his left shoulder.) Go, go, go, I conjure
[22812]you, whoever you are!
[22813]
[22814](A male cough and tread are heard passing through the mist outside.
[22815]Bloom’s features relax. He places a hand in his waistcoat, posing
[22816]calmly. Zoe offers him chocolate.)
[22817]
[22818]BLOOM: (Solemnly.) Thanks.
[22819]
[22820]ZOE: Do as you’re bid. Here!
[22821]
[22822](A firm heelclacking tread is heard on the stairs.)
[22823]
[22824]BLOOM: (Takes the chocolate.) Aphrodisiac? Tansy and pennyroyal. But I
[22825]bought it. Vanilla calms or? Mnemo. Confused light confuses memory. Red
[22826]influences lupus. Colours affect women’s characters, any they have.
[22827]This black makes me sad. Eat and be merry for tomorrow. (He eats.)
[22828]Influence taste too, mauve. But it is so long since I. Seems new. Aphro.
[22829]That priest. Must come. Better late than never. Try truffles at Andrews.
[22830]
[22831](The door opens. Bella Cohen, a massive whoremistress, enters. She
[22832]is dressed in a threequarter ivory gown, fringed round the hem with
[22833]tasselled selvedge, and cools herself flirting a black horn fan like
[22834]Minnie Hauck in Carmen. On her left hand are wedding and keeper rings.
[22835]Her eyes are deeply carboned. She has a sprouting moustache. Her
[22836]olive face is heavy, slightly sweated and fullnosed with orangetainted
[22837]nostrils. She has large pendant beryl eardrops.)
[22838]
[22839]BELLA: My word! I’m all of a mucksweat.
[22840]
[22841](She glances round her at the couples. Then her eyes rest on Bloom with
[22842]hard insistence. Her large fan winnows wind towards her heated faceneck
[22843]and embonpoint. Her falcon eyes glitter.)
[22844]
[22845]THE FAN: (Flirting quickly, then slowly.) Married, I see.
[22846]
[22847]BLOOM: Yes. Partly, I have mislaid...
[22848]
[22849]THE FAN: (Half opening, then closing.) And the missus is master.
[22850]Petticoat government.
[22851]
[22852]BLOOM: (Looks down with a sheepish grin.) That is so.
[22853]
[22854]THE FAN: (Folding together, rests against her left eardrop.) Have you
[22855]forgotten me?
[22856]
[22857]BLOOM: Nes. Yo.
[22858]
[22859]THE FAN: (Folded akimbo against her waist.) Is me her was you dreamed
[22860]before? Was then she him you us since knew? Am all them and the same now
[22861]we?
[22862]
[22863](Bella approaches, gently tapping with the fan.)
[22864]
[22865]BLOOM: (Wincing.) Powerful being. In my eyes read that slumber which
[22866]women love.
[22867]
[22868]THE FAN: (Tapping.) We have met. You are mine. It is fate.
[22869]
[22870]BLOOM: (Cowed.) Exuberant female. Enormously I desiderate your
[22871]domination. I am exhausted, abandoned, no more young. I stand, so to
[22872]speak, with an unposted letter bearing the extra regulation fee before
[22873]the too late box of the general postoffice of human life. The door
[22874]and window open at a right angle cause a draught of thirtytwo feet per
[22875]second according to the law of falling bodies. I have felt this instant
[22876]a twinge of sciatica in my left glutear muscle. It runs in our family.
[22877]Poor dear papa, a widower, was a regular barometer from it. He believed
[22878]in animal heat. A skin of tabby lined his winter waistcoat. Near the
[22879]end, remembering king David and the Sunamite, he shared his bed with
[22880]Athos, faithful after death. A dog’s spittle as you probably... (He
[22881]winces.) Ah!
[22882]
[22883]RICHIE GOULDING: (Bagweighted, passes the door.) Mocking is catch. Best
[22884]value in Dub. Fit for a prince’s. Liver and kidney.
[22885]
[22886]THE FAN: (Tapping.) All things end. Be mine. Now.
[22887]
[22888]BLOOM: (Undecided.) All now? I should not have parted with my talisman.
[22889]Rain, exposure at dewfall on the searocks, a peccadillo at my time of
[22890]life. Every phenomenon has a natural cause.
[22891]
[22892]THE FAN: (Points downwards slowly.) You may.
[22893]
[22894]BLOOM: (Looks downwards and perceives her unfastened bootlace.) We are
[22895]observed.
[22896]
[22897]THE FAN: (Points downwards quickly.) You must.
[22898]
[22899]BLOOM: (With desire, with reluctance.) I can make a true black knot.
[22900]Learned when I served my time and worked the mail order line for
[22901]Kellett’s. Experienced hand. Every knot says a lot. Let me. In
[22902]courtesy. I knelt once before today. Ah!
[22903]
[22904](Bella raises her gown slightly and, steadying her pose, lifts to the
[22905]edge of a chair a plump buskined hoof and a full pastern, silksocked.
[22906]Bloom, stifflegged, aging, bends over her hoof and with gentle fingers
[22907]draws out and in her laces.)
[22908]
[22909]BLOOM: (Murmurs lovingly.) To be a shoefitter in Manfield’s was my
[22910]love’s young dream, the darling joys of sweet buttonhooking, to lace
[22911]up crisscrossed to kneelength the dressy kid footwear satinlined, so
[22912]incredibly impossibly small, of Clyde Road ladies. Even their wax model
[22913]Raymonde I visited daily to admire her cobweb hose and stick of rhubarb
[22914]toe, as worn in Paris.
[22915]
[22916]THE HOOF: Smell my hot goathide. Feel my royal weight.
[22917]
[22918]BLOOM: (Crosslacing.) Too tight?
[22919]
[22920]THE HOOF: If you bungle, Handy Andy, I’ll kick your football for you.
[22921]
[22922]BLOOM: Not to lace the wrong eyelet as I did the night of the bazaar
[22923]dance. Bad luck. Hook in wrong tache of her... person you mentioned.
[22924]That night she met... Now!
[22925]
[22926](He knots the lace. Bella places her foot on the floor. Bloom raises
[22927]his head. Her heavy face, her eyes strike him in midbrow. His eyes grow
[22928]dull, darker and pouched, his nose thickens.)
[22929]
[22930]BLOOM: (Mumbles.) Awaiting your further orders we remain, gentlemen,...
[22931]
[22932]BELLO: (With a hard basilisk stare, in a baritone voice.) Hound of
[22933]dishonour!
[22934]
[22935]BLOOM: (Infatuated.) Empress!
[22936]
[22937]BELLO: (His heavy cheekchops sagging.) Adorer of the adulterous rump!
[22938]
[22939]BLOOM: (Plaintively.) Hugeness!
[22940]
[22941]BELLO: Dungdevourer!
[22942]
[22943]BLOOM: (With sinews semiflexed.) Magmagnificence!
[22944]
[22945]BELLO: Down! (He taps her on the shoulder with his fan.) Incline feet
[22946]forward! Slide left foot one pace back! You will fall. You are falling.
[22947]On the hands down!
[22948]
[22949]BLOOM: (Her eyes upturned in the sign of admiration, closing, yaps.)
[22950]Truffles!
[22951]
[22952](With a piercing epileptic cry she sinks on all fours, grunting,
[22953]snuffling, rooting at his feet: then lies, shamming dead, with eyes shut
[22954]tight, trembling eyelids, bowed upon the ground in the attitude of most
[22955]excellent master.)
[22956]
[22957]BELLO: (With bobbed hair, purple gills, fat moustache rings round his
[22958]shaven mouth, in mountaineer’s puttees, green silverbuttoned coat,
[22959]sport skirt and alpine hat with moorcock’s feather, his hands stuck
[22960]deep in his breeches pockets, places his heel on her neck and grinds it
[22961]in.) Footstool! Feel my entire weight. Bow, bondslave, before the
[22962]throne of your despot’s glorious heels so glistening in their proud
[22963]erectness.
[22964]
[22965]BLOOM: (Enthralled, bleats.) I promise never to disobey.
[22966]
[22967]BELLO: (Laughs loudly.) Holy smoke! You little know what’s in store
[22968]for you. I’m the Tartar to settle your little lot and break you in!
[22969]I’ll bet Kentucky cocktails all round I shame it out of you, old
[22970]son. Cheek me, I dare you. If you do tremble in anticipation of heel
[22971]discipline to be inflicted in gym costume.
[22972]
[22973](Bloom creeps under the sofa and peers out through the fringe.)
[22974]
[22975]ZOE: (Widening her slip to screen her.) She’s not here.
[22976]
[22977]BLOOM: (Closing her eyes.) She’s not here.
[22978]
[22979]FLORRY: (Hiding her with her gown.) She didn’t mean it, Mr Bello.
[22980]She’ll be good, sir.
[22981]
[22982]KITTY: Don’t be too hard on her, Mr Bello. Sure you won’t,
[22983]ma’amsir.
[22984]
[22985]BELLO: (Coaxingly.) Come, ducky dear, I want a word with you, darling,
[22986]just to administer correction. Just a little heart to heart talk,
[22987]sweety. (Bloom puts out her timid head.) There’s a good girly now.
[22988](Bello grabs her hair violently and drags her forward.) I only want to
[22989]correct you for your own good on a soft safe spot. How’s that tender
[22990]behind? O, ever so gently, pet. Begin to get ready.
[22991]
[22992]BLOOM: (Fainting.) Don’t tear my...
[22993]
[22994]BELLO: (Savagely.) The nosering, the pliers, the bastinado, the hanging
[22995]hook, the knout I’ll make you kiss while the flutes play like the
[22996]Nubian slave of old. You’re in for it this time! I’ll make you
[22997]remember me for the balance of your natural life. (His forehead veins
[22998]swollen, his face congested.) I shall sit on your ottoman saddleback
[22999]every morning after my thumping good breakfast of Matterson’s fat
[23000]hamrashers and a bottle of Guinness’s porter. (He belches.) And
[23001]suck my thumping good Stock Exchange cigar while I read the Licensed
[23002]Victualler’s Gazette. Very possibly I shall have you slaughtered and
[23003]skewered in my stables and enjoy a slice of you with crisp crackling
[23004]from the baking tin basted and baked like sucking pig with rice and
[23005]lemon or currant sauce. It will hurt you. (He twists her arm. Bloom
[23006]squeals, turning turtle.)
[23007]
[23008]BLOOM: Don’t be cruel, nurse! Don’t!
[23009]
[23010]BELLO: (Twisting.) Another!
[23011]
[23012]BLOOM: (Screams.) O, it’s hell itself! Every nerve in my body aches
[23013]like mad!
[23014]
[23015]BELLO: (Shouts.) Good, by the rumping jumping general! That’s the best
[23016]bit of news I heard these six weeks. Here, don’t keep me waiting, damn
[23017]you! (He slaps her face.)
[23018]
[23019]BLOOM: (Whimpers.) You’re after hitting me. I’ll tell...
[23020]
[23021]BELLO: Hold him down, girls, till I squat on him.
[23022]
[23023]ZOE: Yes. Walk on him! I will.
[23024]
[23025]FLORRY: I will. Don’t be greedy.
[23026]
[23027]KITTY: No, me. Lend him to me.
[23028]
[23029](The brothel cook, Mrs Keogh, wrinkled, greybearded, in a greasy bib,
[23030]men’s grey and green socks and brogues, floursmeared, a rollingpin
[23031]stuck with raw pastry in her bare red arm and hand, appears at the
[23032]door.)
[23033]
[23034]MRS KEOGH: (Ferociously.) Can I help? (They hold and pinion Bloom.)
[23035]
[23036]BELLO: (Squats with a grunt on Bloom’s upturned face, puffing
[23037]cigarsmoke, nursing a fat leg.) I see Keating Clay is elected
[23038]vicechairman of the Richmond asylum and by the by Guinness’s
[23039]preference shares are at sixteen three quarters. Curse me for a fool
[23040]that didn’t buy that lot Craig and Gardner told me about. Just my
[23041]infernal luck, curse it. And that Goddamned outsider Throwaway at twenty
[23042]to one. (He quenches his cigar angrily on Bloom’s ear.) Where’s that
[23043]Goddamned cursed ashtray?
[23044]
[23045]BLOOM: (Goaded, buttocksmothered.) O! O! Monsters! Cruel one!
[23046]
[23047]BELLO: Ask for that every ten minutes. Beg. Pray for it as you never
[23048]prayed before. (He thrusts out a figged fist and foul cigar.) Here,
[23049]kiss that. Both. Kiss. (He throws a leg astride and, pressing with
[23050]horseman’s knees, calls in a hard voice.) Gee up! A cockhorse to
[23051]Banbury cross. I’ll ride him for the Eclipse stakes. (He bends
[23052]sideways and squeezes his mount’s testicles roughly, shouting.)
[23053]Ho! Off we pop! I’ll nurse you in proper fashion. (He horserides
[23054]cockhorse, leaping in the, in the saddle.) The lady goes a pace a pace
[23055]and the coachman goes a trot a trot and the gentleman goes a gallop a
[23056]gallop a gallop a gallop.
[23057]
[23058]FLORRY: (Pulls at Bello.) Let me on him now. You had enough. I asked
[23059]before you.
[23060]
[23061]ZOE: (Pulling at Florry.) Me. Me. Are you not finished with him yet,
[23062]suckeress?
[23063]
[23064]BLOOM: (Stifling.) Can’t.
[23065]
[23066]BELLO: Well, I’m not. Wait. (He holds in his breath.) Curse it. Here.
[23067]This bung’s about burst. (He uncorks himself behind: then, contorting
[23068]his features, farts loudly.) Take that! (He recorks himself.) Yes, by
[23069]Jingo, sixteen three quarters.
[23070]
[23071]BLOOM: (A sweat breaking out over him.) Not man. (He sniffs.) Woman.
[23072]
[23073]BELLO: (Stands up.) No more blow hot and cold. What you longed for has
[23074]come to pass. Henceforth you are unmanned and mine in earnest, a thing
[23075]under the yoke. Now for your punishment frock. You will shed your male
[23076]garments, you understand, Ruby Cohen? and don the shot silk luxuriously
[23077]rustling over head and shoulders. And quickly too!
[23078]
[23079]BLOOM: (Shrinks.) Silk, mistress said! O crinkly! scrapy! Must I
[23080]tiptouch it with my nails?
[23081]
[23082]BELLO: (Points to his whores.) As they are now so will you be, wigged,
[23083]singed, perfumesprayed, ricepowdered, with smoothshaven armpits. Tape
[23084]measurements will be taken next your skin. You will be laced with cruel
[23085]force into vicelike corsets of soft dove coutille with whalebone busk to
[23086]the diamondtrimmed pelvis, the absolute outside edge, while your figure,
[23087]plumper than when at large, will be restrained in nettight frocks,
[23088]pretty two ounce petticoats and fringes and things stamped, of course,
[23089]with my houseflag, creations of lovely lingerie for Alice and nice
[23090]scent for Alice. Alice will feel the pullpull. Martha and Mary will be
[23091]a little chilly at first in such delicate thighcasing but the frilly
[23092]flimsiness of lace round your bare knees will remind you...
[23093]
[23094]BLOOM: (A charming soubrette with dauby cheeks, mustard hair and large
[23095]male hands and nose, leering mouth.) I tried her things on only twice,
[23096]a small prank, in Holles street. When we were hard up I washed them to
[23097]save the laundry bill. My own shirts I turned. It was the purest thrift.
[23098]
[23099]BELLO: (Jeers.) Little jobs that make mother pleased, eh? And showed off
[23100]coquettishly in your domino at the mirror behind closedrawn blinds your
[23101]unskirted thighs and hegoat’s udders in various poses of surrender,
[23102]eh? Ho! ho! I have to laugh! That secondhand black operatop shift and
[23103]short trunkleg naughties all split up the stitches at her last rape that
[23104]Mrs Miriam Dandrade sold you from the Shelbourne hotel, eh?
[23105]
[23106]BLOOM: Miriam. Black. Demimondaine.
[23107]
[23108]BELLO: (Guffaws.) Christ Almighty it’s too tickling, this! You were
[23109]a nicelooking Miriam when you clipped off your backgate hairs and
[23110]lay swooning in the thing across the bed as Mrs Dandrade about to be
[23111]violated by lieutenant Smythe-Smythe, Mr Philip Augustus Blockwell M.
[23112]P., signor Laci Daremo, the robust tenor, blueeyed Bert, the liftboy,
[23113]Henri Fleury of Gordon Bennett fame, Sheridan, the quadroon Croesus, the
[23114]varsity wetbob eight from old Trinity, Ponto, her splendid Newfoundland
[23115]and Bobs, dowager duchess of Manorhamilton. (He guffaws again.) Christ,
[23116]wouldn’t it make a Siamese cat laugh?
[23117]
[23118]BLOOM: (Her hands and features working.) It was Gerald converted me to
[23119]be a true corsetlover when I was female impersonator in the High School
[23120]play Vice Versa. It was dear Gerald. He got that kink, fascinated by
[23121]sister’s stays. Now dearest Gerald uses pinky greasepaint and gilds
[23122]his eyelids. Cult of the beautiful.
[23123]
[23124]BELLO: (With wicked glee.) Beautiful! Give us a breather! When you took
[23125]your seat with womanish care, lifting your billowy flounces, on the
[23126]smoothworn throne.
[23127]
[23128]BLOOM: Science. To compare the various joys we each enjoy. (Earnestly.)
[23129]And really it’s better the position... because often I used to wet...
[23130]
[23131]BELLO: (Sternly.) No insubordination! The sawdust is there in the corner
[23132]for you. I gave you strict instructions, didn’t I? Do it standing,
[23133]sir! I’ll teach you to behave like a jinkleman! If I catch a trace
[23134]on your swaddles. Aha! By the ass of the Dorans you’ll find I’m a
[23135]martinet. The sins of your past are rising against you. Many. Hundreds.
[23136]
[23137]THE SINS OF THE PAST: (In a medley of voices.) He went through a form of
[23138]clandestine marriage with at least one woman in the shadow of the Black
[23139]church. Unspeakable messages he telephoned mentally to Miss Dunn at an
[23140]address in D’Olier street while he presented himself indecently to
[23141]the instrument in the callbox. By word and deed he frankly encouraged
[23142]a nocturnal strumpet to deposit fecal and other matter in an unsanitary
[23143]outhouse attached to empty premises. In five public conveniences
[23144]he wrote pencilled messages offering his nuptial partner to all
[23145]strongmembered males. And by the offensively smelling vitriol works did
[23146]he not pass night after night by loving courting couples to see if and
[23147]what and how much he could see? Did he not lie in bed, the gross boar,
[23148]gloating over a nauseous fragment of wellused toilet paper presented to
[23149]him by a nasty harlot, stimulated by gingerbread and a postal order?
[23150]
[23151]BELLO: (Whistles loudly.) Say! What was the most revolting piece of
[23152]obscenity in all your career of crime? Go the whole hog. Puke it out! Be
[23153]candid for once.
[23154]
[23155](Mute inhuman faces throng forward, leering, vanishing, gibbering,
[23156]Booloohoom. Poldy Kock, Bootlaces a penny, Cassidy’s hag, blind
[23157]stripling, Larry Rhinoceros, the girl, the woman, the whore, the other,
[23158]the...)
[23159]
[23160]BLOOM: Don’t ask me! Our mutual faith. Pleasants street. I only
[23161]thought the half of the... I swear on my sacred oath...
[23162]
[23163]BELLO: (Peremptorily.) Answer. Repugnant wretch! I insist on knowing.
[23164]Tell me something to amuse me, smut or a bloody good ghoststory or a
[23165]line of poetry, quick, quick, quick! Where? How? What time? With how
[23166]many? I give you just three seconds. One! Two! Thr...
[23167]
[23168]BLOOM: (Docile, gurgles.) I rererepugnosed in rerererepugnant...
[23169]
[23170]BELLO: (Imperiously.) O, get out, you skunk! Hold your tongue! Speak
[23171]when you’re spoken to.
[23172]
[23173]BLOOM: (Bows.) Master! Mistress! Mantamer!
[23174]
[23175](He lifts his arms. His bangle bracelets fall.)
[23176]
[23177]BELLO: (Satirically.) By day you will souse and bat our smelling
[23178]underclothes also when we ladies are unwell, and swab out our latrines
[23179]with dress pinned up and a dishclout tied to your tail. Won’t that be
[23180]nice? (He places a ruby ring on her finger.) And there now! With this
[23181]ring I thee own. Say, thank you, mistress.
[23182]
[23183]BLOOM: Thank you, mistress.
[23184]
[23185]BELLO: You will make the beds, get my tub ready, empty the pisspots in
[23186]the different rooms, including old Mrs Keogh’s the cook’s, a sandy
[23187]one. Ay, and rinse the seven of them well, mind, or lap it up like
[23188]champagne. Drink me piping hot. Hop! You will dance attendance or I’ll
[23189]lecture you on your misdeeds, Miss Ruby, and spank your bare bot right
[23190]well, miss, with the hairbrush. You’ll be taught the error of
[23191]your ways. At night your wellcreamed braceletted hands will wear
[23192]fortythreebutton gloves newpowdered with talc and having delicately
[23193]scented fingertips. For such favours knights of old laid down their
[23194]lives. (He chuckles.) My boys will be no end charmed to see you so
[23195]ladylike, the colonel, above all, when they come here the night before
[23196]the wedding to fondle my new attraction in gilded heels. First I’ll
[23197]have a go at you myself. A man I know on the turf named Charles Alberta
[23198]Marsh (I was in bed with him just now and another gentleman out of the
[23199]Hanaper and Petty Bag office) is on the lookout for a maid of all work
[23200]at a short knock. Swell the bust. Smile. Droop shoulders. What offers?
[23201](He points.) For that lot. Trained by owner to fetch and carry, basket
[23202]in mouth. (He bares his arm and plunges it elbowdeep in Bloom’s
[23203]vulva.) There’s fine depth for you! What, boys? That give you a
[23204]hardon? (He shoves his arm in a bidder’s face.) Here wet the deck and
[23205]wipe it round!
[23206]
[23207]A BIDDER: A florin.
[23208]
[23209](Dillon’s lacquey rings his handbell.)
[23210]
[23211]THE LACQUEY: Barang!
[23212]
[23213]A VOICE: One and eightpence too much.
[23214]
[23215]CHARLES ALBERTA MARSH: Must be virgin. Good breath. Clean.
[23216]
[23217]BELLO: (Gives a rap with his gavel.) Two bar. Rockbottom figure and
[23218]cheap at the price. Fourteen hands high. Touch and examine shis points.
[23219]Handle hrim. This downy skin, these soft muscles, this tender flesh. If
[23220]I had only my gold piercer here! And quite easy to milk. Three newlaid
[23221]gallons a day. A pure stockgetter, due to lay within the hour. His
[23222]sire’s milk record was a thousand gallons of whole milk in forty
[23223]weeks. Whoa, my jewel! Beg up! Whoa! (He brands his initial C on
[23224]Bloom’s croup.) So! Warranted Cohen! What advance on two bob,
[23225]gentlemen?
[23226]
[23227]A DARKVISAGED MAN: (In disguised accent.) Hoondert punt sterlink.
[23228]
[23229]VOICES: (Subdued.) For the Caliph. Haroun Al Raschid.
[23230]
[23231]BELLO: (Gaily.) Right. Let them all come. The scanty, daringly short
[23232]skirt, riding up at the knee to show a peep of white pantalette, is a
[23233]potent weapon and transparent stockings, emeraldgartered, with the
[23234]long straight seam trailing up beyond the knee, appeal to the better
[23235]instincts of the blasé man about town. Learn the smooth mincing walk on
[23236]four inch Louis Quinze heels, the Grecian bend with provoking croup,
[23237]the thighs fluescent, knees modestly kissing. Bring all your powers of
[23238]fascination to bear on them. Pander to their Gomorrahan vices.
[23239]
[23240]BLOOM: (Bends his blushing face into his armpit and simpers with
[23241]forefinger in mouth.) O, I know what you’re hinting at now!
[23242]
[23243]BELLO: What else are you good for, an impotent thing like you? (He
[23244]stoops and, peering, pokes with his fan rudely under the fat suet folds
[23245]of Bloom’s haunches.) Up! Up! Manx cat! What have we here? Where’s
[23246]your curly teapot gone to or who docked it on you, cockyolly? Sing,
[23247]birdy, sing. It’s as limp as a boy of six’s doing his pooly behind
[23248]a cart. Buy a bucket or sell your pump. (Loudly.) Can you do a man’s
[23249]job?
[23250]
[23251]BLOOM: Eccles street...
[23252]
[23253]BELLO: (Sarcastically.) I wouldn’t hurt your feelings for the world
[23254]but there’s a man of brawn in possession there. The tables are turned,
[23255]my gay young fellow! He is something like a fullgrown outdoor man. Well
[23256]for you, you muff, if you had that weapon with knobs and lumps and warts
[23257]all over it. He shot his bolt, I can tell you! Foot to foot, knee to
[23258]knee, belly to belly, bubs to breast! He’s no eunuch. A shock of red
[23259]hair he has sticking out of him behind like a furzebush! Wait for nine
[23260]months, my lad! Holy ginger, it’s kicking and coughing up and down in
[23261]her guts already! That makes you wild, don’t it? Touches the spot? (He
[23262]spits in contempt.) Spittoon!
[23263]
[23264]BLOOM: I was indecently treated, I... Inform the police. Hundred pounds.
[23265]Unmentionable. I...
[23266]
[23267]BELLO: Would if you could, lame duck. A downpour we want not your
[23268]drizzle.
[23269]
[23270]BLOOM: To drive me mad! Moll! I forgot! Forgive! Moll... We... Still...
[23271]
[23272]BELLO: (Ruthlessly.) No, Leopold Bloom, all is changed by woman’s will
[23273]since you slept horizontal in Sleepy Hollow your night of twenty years.
[23274]Return and see.
[23275]
[23276](Old Sleepy Hollow calls over the wold.)
[23277]
[23278]SLEEPY HOLLOW: Rip van Wink! Rip van Winkle!
[23279]
[23280]BLOOM: (In tattered mocassins with a rusty fowlingpiece, tiptoeing,
[23281]fingertipping, his haggard bony bearded face peering through the
[23282]diamond panes, cries out.) I see her! It’s she! The first night at
[23283]Mat Dillon’s! But that dress, the green! And her hair is dyed gold and
[23284]he...
[23285]
[23286]BELLO: (Laughs mockingly.) That’s your daughter, you owl, with a
[23287]Mullingar student.
[23288]
[23289](Milly Bloom, fairhaired, greenvested, slimsandalled, her blue scarf
[23290]in the seawind simply swirling, breaks from the arms of her lover and
[23291]calls, her young eyes wonderwide.)
[23292]
[23293]MILLY: My! It’s Papli! But, O Papli, how old you’ve grown!
[23294]
[23295]BELLO: Changed, eh? Our whatnot, our writingtable where we never wrote,
[23296]aunt Hegarty’s armchair, our classic reprints of old masters. A man
[23297]and his menfriends are living there in clover. The Cuckoos’ Rest!
[23298]Why not? How many women had you, eh, following them up dark streets,
[23299]flatfoot, exciting them by your smothered grunts, what, you male
[23300]prostitute? Blameless dames with parcels of groceries. Turn about. Sauce
[23301]for the goose, my gander O.
[23302]
[23303]BLOOM: They... I...
[23304]
[23305]BELLO: (Cuttingly.) Their heelmarks will stamp the Brusselette carpet
[23306]you bought at Wren’s auction. In their horseplay with Moll the romp
[23307]to find the buck flea in her breeches they will deface the little statue
[23308]you carried home in the rain for art for art’s sake. They will violate
[23309]the secrets of your bottom drawer. Pages will be torn from your handbook
[23310]of astronomy to make them pipespills. And they will spit in your ten
[23311]shilling brass fender from Hampton Leedom’s.
[23312]
[23313]BLOOM: Ten and six. The act of low scoundrels. Let me go. I will return.
[23314]I will prove...
[23315]
[23316]A VOICE: Swear!
[23317]
[23318](Bloom clenches his fists and crawls forward, a bowieknife between his
[23319]teeth.)
[23320]
[23321]BELLO: As a paying guest or a kept man? Too late. You have made your
[23322]secondbest bed and others must lie in it. Your epitaph is written. You
[23323]are down and out and don’t you forget it, old bean.
[23324]
[23325]BLOOM: Justice! All Ireland versus one! Has nobody...? (He bites his
[23326]thumb.)
[23327]
[23328]BELLO: Die and be damned to you if you have any sense of decency or
[23329]grace about you. I can give you a rare old wine that’ll send you
[23330]skipping to hell and back. Sign a will and leave us any coin you have!
[23331]If you have none see you damn well get it, steal it, rob it! We’ll
[23332]bury you in our shrubbery jakes where you’ll be dead and dirty with
[23333]old Cuck Cohen, my stepnephew I married, the bloody old gouty procurator
[23334]and sodomite with a crick in his neck, and my other ten or eleven
[23335]husbands, whatever the buggers’ names were, suffocated in the one
[23336]cesspool. (He explodes in a loud phlegmy laugh.) We’ll manure you, Mr
[23337]Flower! (He pipes scoffingly.) Byby, Poldy! Byby, Papli!
[23338]
[23339]BLOOM: (Clasps his head.) My willpower! Memory! I have sinned! I have
[23340]suff...
[23341]
[23342](He weeps tearlessly.)
[23343]
[23344]BELLO: (Sneers.) Crybabby! Crocodile tears!
[23345]
[23346](Bloom, broken, closely veiled for the sacrifice, sobs, his face to
[23347]the earth. The passing bell is heard. Darkshawled figures of the
[23348]circumcised, in sackcloth and ashes, stand by the wailing wall. M.
[23349]Shulomowitz, Joseph Goldwater, Moses Herzog, Harris Rosenberg, M.
[23350]Moisel, J. Citron, Minnie Watchman, P. Mastiansky, The Reverend Leopold
[23351]Abramovitz, Chazen. With swaying arms they wail in pneuma over the
[23352]recreant Bloom.)
[23353]
[23354]THE CIRCUMCISED: (In dark guttural chant as they cast dead sea fruit
[23355]upon him, no flowers.) Shema Israel Adonai Elohenu Adonai Echad.
[23356]
[23357]VOICES: (Sighing.) So he’s gone. Ah yes. Yes, indeed. Bloom? Never
[23358]heard of him. No? Queer kind of chap. There’s the widow. That so? Ah,
[23359]yes.
[23360]
[23361](From the suttee pyre the flame of gum camphire ascends. The pall of
[23362]incense smoke screens and disperses. Out of her oakframe a nymph with
[23363]hair unbound, lightly clad in teabrown artcolours, descends from her
[23364]grotto and passing under interlacing yews stands over Bloom.)
[23365]
[23366]THE YEWS: (Their leaves whispering.) Sister. Our sister. Ssh!
[23367]
[23368]THE NYMPH: (Softly.) Mortal! (Kindly.) Nay, dost not weepest!
[23369]
[23370]BLOOM: (Crawls jellily forward under the boughs, streaked by sunlight,
[23371]with dignity.) This position. I felt it was expected of me. Force of
[23372]habit.
[23373]
[23374]THE NYMPH: Mortal! You found me in evil company, highkickers, coster
[23375]picnicmakers, pugilists, popular generals, immoral panto boys in
[23376]fleshtights and the nifty shimmy dancers, La Aurora and Karini, musical
[23377]act, the hit of the century. I was hidden in cheap pink paper that smelt
[23378]of rock oil. I was surrounded by the stale smut of clubmen, stories to
[23379]disturb callow youth, ads for transparencies, truedup dice and bustpads,
[23380]proprietary articles and why wear a truss with testimonial from ruptured
[23381]gentleman. Useful hints to the married.
[23382]
[23383]BLOOM: (Lifts a turtle head towards her lap.) We have met before. On
[23384]another star.
[23385]
[23386]THE NYMPH: (Sadly.) Rubber goods. Neverrip brand as supplied to the
[23387]aristocracy. Corsets for men. I cure fits or money refunded. Unsolicited
[23388]testimonials for Professor Waldmann’s wonderful chest exuber. My bust
[23389]developed four inches in three weeks, reports Mrs Gus Rublin with photo.
[23390]
[23391]BLOOM: You mean Photo Bits?
[23392]
[23393]THE NYMPH: I do. You bore me away, framed me in oak and tinsel, set me
[23394]above your marriage couch. Unseen, one summer eve, you kissed me in
[23395]four places. And with loving pencil you shaded my eyes, my bosom and my
[23396]shame.
[23397]
[23398]BLOOM: (Humbly kisses her long hair.) Your classic curves, beautiful
[23399]immortal, I was glad to look on you, to praise you, a thing of beauty,
[23400]almost to pray.
[23401]
[23402]THE NYMPH: During dark nights I heard your praise.
[23403]
[23404]BLOOM: (Quickly.) Yes, yes. You mean that I... Sleep reveals the worst
[23405]side of everyone, children perhaps excepted. I know I fell out of bed
[23406]or rather was pushed. Steel wine is said to cure snoring. For the rest
[23407]there is that English invention, pamphlet of which I received some days
[23408]ago, incorrectly addressed. It claims to afford a noiseless, inoffensive
[23409]vent. (He sighs.) ’Twas ever thus. Frailty, thy name is marriage.
[23410]
[23411]THE NYMPH: (Her fingers in her ears.) And words. They are not in my
[23412]dictionary.
[23413]
[23414]BLOOM: You understood them?
[23415]
[23416]THE YEWS: Ssh!
[23417]
[23418]THE NYMPH: (Covers her face with her hands.) What have I not seen in
[23419]that chamber? What must my eyes look down on?
[23420]
[23421]BLOOM: (Apologetically.) I know. Soiled personal linen, wrong side up
[23422]with care. The quoits are loose. From Gibraltar by long sea long ago.
[23423]
[23424]THE NYMPH: (Bends her head.) Worse, worse!
[23425]
[23426]BLOOM: (Reflects precautiously.) That antiquated commode. It wasn’t
[23427]her weight. She scaled just eleven stone nine. She put on nine pounds
[23428]after weaning. It was a crack and want of glue. Eh? And that absurd
[23429]orangekeyed utensil which has only one handle.
[23430]
[23431](The sound of a waterfall is heard in bright cascade.)
[23432]
[23433]THE WATERFALL:
[23434]
[23435] Poulaphouca Poulaphouca
[23436] Poulaphouca Poulaphouca.
[23437]THE YEWS: (Mingling their boughs.) Listen. Whisper. She is right, our
[23438]sister. We grew by Poulaphouca waterfall. We gave shade on languorous
[23439]summer days.
[23440]
[23441]JOHN WYSE NOLAN: (In the background, in Irish National Forester’s
[23442]uniform, doffs his plumed hat.) Prosper! Give shade on languorous days,
[23443]trees of Ireland!
[23444]
[23445]THE YEWS: (Murmuring.) Who came to Poulaphouca with the High School
[23446]excursion? Who left his nutquesting classmates to seek our shade?
[23447]
[23448]BLOOM: (Scared.) High School of Poula? Mnemo? Not in full possession of
[23449]faculties. Concussion. Run over by tram.
[23450]
[23451]THE ECHO: Sham!
[23452]
[23453]BLOOM: (Pigeonbreasted, bottleshouldered, padded, in nondescript
[23454]juvenile grey and black striped suit, too small for him, white tennis
[23455]shoes, bordered stockings with turnover tops and a red schoolcap with
[23456]badge.) I was in my teens, a growing boy. A little then sufficed,
[23457]a jolting car, the mingling odours of the ladies’ cloakroom and
[23458]lavatory, the throng penned tight on the old Royal stairs (for they
[23459]love crushes, instinct of the herd, and the dark sexsmelling theatre
[23460]unbridles vice), even a pricelist of their hosiery. And then the heat.
[23461]There were sunspots that summer. End of school. And tipsycake. Halcyon
[23462]days.
[23463]
[23464](Halcyon days, high school boys in blue and white football jerseys and
[23465]shorts, Master Donald Turnbull, Master Abraham Chatterton, Master Owen
[23466]Goldberg, Master Jack Meredith, Master Percy Apjohn, stand in a clearing
[23467]of the trees and shout to Master Leopold Bloom.)
[23468]
[23469]THE HALCYON DAYS: Mackerel! Live us again. Hurray! (They cheer.)
[23470]
[23471]BLOOM: (Hobbledehoy, warmgloved, mammamufflered, starred with spent
[23472]snowballs, struggles to rise.) Again! I feel sixteen! What a lark!
[23473]Let’s ring all the bells in Montague street. (He cheers feebly.)
[23474]Hurray for the High School!
[23475]
[23476]THE ECHO: Fool!
[23477]
[23478]THE YEWS: (Rustling.) She is right, our sister. Whisper. (Whispered
[23479]kisses are heard in all the wood. Faces of hamadryads peep out from
[23480]the boles and among the leaves and break, blossoming into bloom.) Who
[23481]profaned our silent shade?
[23482]
[23483]THE NYMPH: (Coyly, through parting fingers.) There? In the open air?
[23484]
[23485]THE YEWS: (Sweeping downward.) Sister, yes. And on our virgin sward.
[23486]
[23487]THE WATERFALL:
[23488]
[23489] Poulaphouca Poulaphouca
[23490] Phoucaphouca Phoucaphouca.
[23491]THE NYMPH: (With wide fingers.) O, infamy!
[23492]
[23493]BLOOM: I was precocious. Youth. The fauna. I sacrificed to the god of
[23494]the forest. The flowers that bloom in the spring. It was pairing
[23495]time. Capillary attraction is a natural phenomenon. Lotty Clarke,
[23496]flaxenhaired, I saw at her night toilette through illclosed curtains
[23497]with poor papa’s operaglasses: The wanton ate grass wildly. She rolled
[23498]downhill at Rialto bridge to tempt me with her flow of animal spirits.
[23499]She climbed their crooked tree and I... A saint couldn’t resist it.
[23500]The demon possessed me. Besides, who saw?
[23501]
[23502](Staggering Bob, a whitepolled calf, thrusts a ruminating head with
[23503]humid nostrils through the foliage.)
[23504]
[23505]STAGGERING BOB: (Large teardrops rolling from his prominent eyes,
[23506]snivels.) Me. Me see.
[23507]
[23508]BLOOM: Simply satisfying a need I... (With pathos.) No girl would when I
[23509]went girling. Too ugly. They wouldn’t play...
[23510]
[23511](High on Ben Howth through rhododendrons a nannygoat passes,
[23512]plumpuddered, buttytailed, dropping currants.)
[23513]
[23514]THE NANNYGOAT: (Bleats.) Megeggaggegg! Nannannanny!
[23515]
[23516]BLOOM: (Hatless, flushed, covered with burrs of thistledown and
[23517]gorsespine.) Regularly engaged. Circumstances alter cases. (He gazes
[23518]intently downwards on the water.) Thirtytwo head over heels per second.
[23519]Press nightmare. Giddy Elijah. Fall from cliff. Sad end of government
[23520]printer’s clerk. (Through silversilent summer air the dummy of Bloom,
[23521]rolled in a mummy, rolls roteatingly from the Lion’s Head cliff into
[23522]the purple waiting waters.)
[23523]
[23524]THE DUMMYMUMMY: Bbbbblllllblblblblobschbg!
[23525]
[23526](Far out in the bay between Bailey and Kish lights the Erin’s King
[23527]sails, sending a broadening plume of coalsmoke from her funnel towards
[23528]the land.)
[23529]
[23530]COUNCILLOR NANNETTI: (Alone on deck, in dark alpaca, yellowkitefaced,
[23531]his hand in his waistcoat opening, declaims.) When my country takes her
[23532]place among the nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my
[23533]epitaph be written. I have...
[23534]
[23535]BLOOM: Done. Prff!
[23536]
[23537]THE NYMPH: (Loftily.) We immortals, as you saw today, have not such
[23538]a place and no hair there either. We are stonecold and pure. We eat
[23539]electric light. (She arches her body in lascivious crispation, placing
[23540]her forefinger in her mouth.) Spoke to me. Heard from behind. How then
[23541]could you...?
[23542]
[23543]BLOOM: (Pawing the heather abjectly.) O, I have been a perfect pig.
[23544]Enemas too I have administered. One third of a pint of quassia to
[23545]which add a tablespoonful of rocksalt. Up the fundament. With Hamilton
[23546]Long’s syringe, the ladies’ friend.
[23547]
[23548]THE NYMPH: In my presence. The powderpuff. (She blushes and makes a
[23549]knee.) And the rest!
[23550]
[23551]BLOOM: (Dejected.) Yes. Peccavi! I have paid homage on that living altar
[23552]where the back changes name. (With sudden fervour.) For why should the
[23553]dainty scented jewelled hand, the hand that rules...?
[23554]
[23555](Figures wind serpenting in slow woodland pattern around the treestems,
[23556]cooeeing.)
[23557]
[23558]THE VOICE OF KITTY: (In the thicket.) Show us one of them cushions.
[23559]
[23560]THE VOICE OF FLORRY: Here.
[23561]
[23562](A grouse wings clumsily through the underwood.)
[23563]
[23564]THE VOICE OF LYNCH: (In the thicket.) Whew! Piping hot!
[23565]
[23566]THE VOICE OF ZOE: (From the thicket.) Came from a hot place.
[23567]
[23568]THE VOICE OF VIRAG: (A birdchief, bluestreaked and feathered in war
[23569]panoply with his assegai, striding through a crackling canebrake over
[23570]beechmast and acorns.) Hot! Hot! Ware Sitting Bull!
[23571]
[23572]BLOOM: It overpowers me. The warm impress of her warm form. Even to sit
[23573]where a woman has sat, especially with divaricated thighs, as though to
[23574]grant the last favours, most especially with previously well uplifted
[23575]white sateen coatpans. So womanly, full. It fills me full.
[23576]
[23577]THE WATERFALL:
[23578]
[23579] Phillaphulla Poulaphouca
[23580] Poulaphouca Poulaphouca.
[23581]THE YEWS: Ssh! Sister, speak!
[23582]
[23583]THE NYMPH: (Eyeless, in nun’s white habit, coif and hugewinged wimple,
[23584]softly, with remote eyes.) Tranquilla convent. Sister Agatha. Mount
[23585]Carmel. The apparitions of Knock and Lourdes. No more desire. (She
[23586]reclines her head, sighing.) Only the ethereal. Where dreamy creamy gull
[23587]waves o’er the waters dull.
[23588]
[23589](Bloom half rises. His back trouserbutton snaps.)
[23590]
[23591]THE BUTTON: Bip!
[23592]
[23593](Two sluts of the Coombe dance rainily by, shawled, yelling flatly.)
[23594]
[23595]THE SLUTS:
[23596]
[23597] O, Leopold lost the pin of his drawers
[23598] He didn’t know what to do,
[23599] To keep it up,
[23600] To keep it up.
[23601]BLOOM: (Coldly.) You have broken the spell. The last straw. If there
[23602]were only ethereal where would you all be, postulants and novices? Shy
[23603]but willing like an ass pissing.
[23604]
[23605]THE YEWS: (Their silverfoil of leaves precipitating, their skinny arms
[23606]aging and swaying.) Deciduously!
[23607]
[23608]THE NYMPH: (Her features hardening, gropes in the folds of her habit.)
[23609]Sacrilege! To attempt my virtue! (A large moist stain appears on her
[23610]robe.) Sully my innocence! You are not fit to touch the garment of a
[23611]pure woman. (She clutches again in her robe.) Wait. Satan, you’ll sing
[23612]no more lovesongs. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. (She draws a poniard and,
[23613]clad in the sheathmail of an elected knight of nine, strikes at his
[23614]loins.) Nekum!
[23615]
[23616]BLOOM: (Starts up, seizes her hand.) Hoy! Nebrakada! Cat o’ nine
[23617]lives! Fair play, madam. No pruningknife. The fox and the grapes, is it?
[23618]What do you lack with your barbed wire? Crucifix not thick enough? (He
[23619]clutches her veil.) A holy abbot you want or Brophy, the lame gardener,
[23620]or the spoutless statue of the watercarrier, or good mother Alphonsus,
[23621]eh Reynard?
[23622]
[23623]THE NYMPH: (With a cry flees from him unveiled, her plaster cast
[23624]cracking, a cloud of stench escaping from the cracks.) Poli...!
[23625]
[23626]BLOOM: (Calls after her.) As if you didn’t get it on the double
[23627]yourselves. No jerks and multiple mucosities all over you. I tried it.
[23628]Your strength our weakness. What’s our studfee? What will you pay on
[23629]the nail? You fee mendancers on the Riviera, I read. (The fleeing nymph
[23630]raises a keen.) Eh? I have sixteen years of black slave labour behind
[23631]me. And would a jury give me five shillings alimony tomorrow, eh? Fool
[23632]someone else, not me. (He sniffs.) Rut. Onions. Stale. Sulphur. Grease.
[23633]
[23634](The figure of Bella Cohen stands before him.)
[23635]
[23636]BELLA: You’ll know me the next time.
[23637]
[23638]BLOOM: (Composed, regards her.) Passée. Mutton dressed as lamb. Long
[23639]in the tooth and superfluous hair. A raw onion the last thing at night
[23640]would benefit your complexion. And take some double chin drill. Your
[23641]eyes are as vapid as the glasseyes of your stuffed fox. They have the
[23642]dimensions of your other features, that’s all. I’m not a triple
[23643]screw propeller.
[23644]
[23645]BELLA: (Contemptuously.) You’re not game, in fact. (Her sowcunt
[23646]barks.) Fbhracht!
[23647]
[23648]BLOOM: (Contemptuously.) Clean your nailless middle finger first, your
[23649]bully’s cold spunk is dripping from your cockscomb. Take a handful of
[23650]hay and wipe yourself.
[23651]
[23652]BELLA: I know you, canvasser! Dead cod!
[23653]
[23654]BLOOM: I saw him, kipkeeper! Pox and gleet vendor!
[23655]
[23656]BELLA: (Turns to the piano.) Which of you was playing the dead march
[23657]from Saul?
[23658]
[23659]ZOE: Me. Mind your cornflowers. (She darts to the piano and bangs chords
[23660]on it with crossed arms.) The cat’s ramble through the slag. (She
[23661]glances back.) Eh? Who’s making love to my sweeties? (She darts back
[23662]to the table.) What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is my own.
[23663]
[23664](Kitty, disconcerted, coats her teeth with the silver paper. Bloom
[23665]approaches Zoe.)
[23666]
[23667]BLOOM: (Gently.) Give me back that potato, will you?
[23668]
[23669]ZOE: Forfeits, a fine thing and a superfine thing.
[23670]
[23671]BLOOM: (With feeling.) It is nothing, but still, a relic of poor mamma.
[23672]
[23673]ZOE:
[23674]
[23675] Give a thing and take it back
[23676] God’ll ask you where is that
[23677] You’ll say you don’t know
[23678] God’ll send you down below.
[23679]BLOOM: There is a memory attached to it. I should like to have it.
[23680]
[23681]STEPHEN: To have or not to have that is the question.
[23682]
[23683]ZOE: Here. (She hauls up a reef of her slip, revealing her bare thigh,
[23684]and unrolls the potato from the top of her stocking.) Those that hides
[23685]knows where to find.
[23686]
[23687]BELLA: (Frowns.) Here. This isn’t a musical peepshow. And don’t you
[23688]smash that piano. Who’s paying here?
[23689]
[23690](She goes to the pianola. Stephen fumbles in his pocket and, taking out
[23691]a banknote by its corner, hands it to her.)
[23692]
[23693]STEPHEN: (With exaggerated politeness.) This silken purse I made out of
[23694]the sow’s ear of the public. Madam, excuse me. If you allow me. (He
[23695]indicates vaguely Lynch and Bloom.) We are all in the same sweepstake,
[23696]Kinch and Lynch. Dans ce bordel où tenons nostre état.
[23697]
[23698]LYNCH: (Calls from the hearth.) Dedalus! Give her your blessing for me.
[23699]
[23700]STEPHEN: (Hands Bella a coin.) Gold. She has it.
[23701]
[23702]BELLA: (Looks at the money, then at Stephen, then at Zoe, Florry and
[23703]Kitty.) Do you want three girls? It’s ten shillings here.
[23704]
[23705]STEPHEN: (Delightedly.) A hundred thousand apologies. (He fumbles again
[23706]and takes out and hands her two crowns.) Permit, brevi manu, my sight is
[23707]somewhat troubled.
[23708]
[23709](Bella goes to the table to count the money while Stephen talks to
[23710]himself in monosyllables. Zoe bends over the table. Kitty leans over
[23711]Zoe’s neck. Lynch gets up, rights his cap and, clasping Kitty’s
[23712]waist, adds his head to the group.)
[23713]
[23714]FLORRY: (Strives heavily to rise.) Ow! My foot’s asleep. (She limps
[23715]over to the table. Bloom approaches.)
[23716]
[23717]BELLA, ZOE, KITTY, LYNCH, BLOOM: (Chattering and squabbling.) The
[23718]gentleman... ten shillings... paying for the three... allow me a
[23719]moment... this gentleman pays separate... who’s touching it?... ow!
[23720]... mind who you’re pinching... are you staying the night or a short
[23721]time?... who did?... you’re a liar, excuse me... the gentleman paid
[23722]down like a gentleman... drink... it’s long after eleven.
[23723]
[23724]STEPHEN: (At the pianola, making a gesture of abhorrence.) No bottles!
[23725]What, eleven? A riddle!
[23726]
[23727]ZOE: (Lifting up her pettigown and folding a half sovereign into the top
[23728]of her stocking.) Hard earned on the flat of my back.
[23729]
[23730]LYNCH: (Lifting Kitty from the table.) Come!
[23731]
[23732]KITTY: Wait. (She clutches the two crowns.)
[23733]
[23734]FLORRY: And me?
[23735]
[23736]LYNCH: Hoopla!
[23737]
[23738](He lifts her, carries her and bumps her down on the sofa.)
[23739]
[23740]STEPHEN:
[23741]
[23742] The fox crew, the cocks flew,
[23743] The bells in heaven
[23744] Were striking eleven.
[23745] ’Tis time for her poor soul
[23746] To get out of heaven.
[23747]BLOOM: (Quietly lays a half sovereign on the table between Bella and
[23748]Florry.) So. Allow me. (He takes up the poundnote.) Three times ten.
[23749]We’re square.
[23750]
[23751]BELLA: (Admiringly.) You’re such a slyboots, old cocky. I could kiss
[23752]you.
[23753]
[23754]ZOE: (Points.) Him? Deep as a drawwell. (Lynch bends Kitty back over the
[23755]sofa and kisses her. Bloom goes with the poundnote to Stephen.)
[23756]
[23757]BLOOM: This is yours.
[23758]
[23759]STEPHEN: How is that? Le distrait or absentminded beggar. (He fumbles
[23760]again in his pocket and draws out a handful of coins. An object falls.)
[23761]That fell.
[23762]
[23763]BLOOM: (Stooping, picks up and hands a box of matches.) This.
[23764]
[23765]STEPHEN: Lucifer. Thanks.
[23766]
[23767]BLOOM: (Quietly.) You had better hand over that cash to me to take care
[23768]of. Why pay more?
[23769]
[23770]STEPHEN: (Hands him all his coins.) Be just before you are generous.
[23771]
[23772]BLOOM: I will but is it wise? (He counts.) One, seven, eleven, and five.
[23773]Six. Eleven. I don’t answer for what you may have lost.
[23774]
[23775]STEPHEN: Why striking eleven? Proparoxyton. Moment before the next
[23776]Lessing says. Thirsty fox. (He laughs loudly.) Burying his grandmother.
[23777]Probably he killed her.
[23778]
[23779]BLOOM: That is one pound six and eleven. One pound seven, say.
[23780]
[23781]STEPHEN: Doesn’t matter a rambling damn.
[23782]
[23783]BLOOM: No, but...
[23784]
[23785]STEPHEN: (Comes to the table.) Cigarette, please. (Lynch tosses a
[23786]cigarette from the sofa to the table.) And so Georgina Johnson is dead
[23787]and married. (A cigarette appears on the table. Stephen looks at it.)
[23788]Wonder. Parlour magic. Married. Hm. (He strikes a match and proceeds to
[23789]light the cigarette with enigmatic melancholy.)
[23790]
[23791]LYNCH: (Watching him.) You would have a better chance of lighting it if
[23792]you held the match nearer.
[23793]
[23794]STEPHEN: (Brings the match near his eye.) Lynx eye. Must get glasses.
[23795]Broke them yesterday. Sixteen years ago. Distance. The eye sees all
[23796]flat. (He draws the match away. It goes out.) Brain thinks. Near: far.
[23797]Ineluctable modality of the visible. (He frowns mysteriously.) Hm.
[23798]Sphinx. The beast that has two backs at midnight. Married.
[23799]
[23800]ZOE: It was a commercial traveller married her and took her away with
[23801]him.
[23802]
[23803]FLORRY: (Nods.) Mr Lambe from London.
[23804]
[23805]STEPHEN: Lamb of London, who takest away the sins of our world.
[23806]
[23807]LYNCH: (Embracing Kitty on the sofa, chants deeply.) Dona nobis pacem.
[23808]
[23809](The cigarette slips from Stephen’s fingers. Bloom picks it up and
[23810]throws it in the grate.)
[23811]
[23812]BLOOM: Don’t smoke. You ought to eat. Cursed dog I met. (To Zoe.) You
[23813]have nothing?
[23814]
[23815]ZOE: Is he hungry?
[23816]
[23817]STEPHEN: (Extends his hand to her smiling and chants to the air of the
[23818]bloodoath in the Dusk of the Gods.)
[23819]
[23820] Hangende Hunger,
[23821] Fragende Frau,
[23822] Macht uns alle kaputt.
[23823]ZOE: (Tragically.) Hamlet, I am thy father’s gimlet! (She takes
[23824]his hand.) Blue eyes beauty I’ll read your hand. (She points to his
[23825]forehead.) No wit, no wrinkles. (She counts.) Two, three, Mars, that’s
[23826]courage. (Stephen shakes his head.) No kid.
[23827]
[23828]LYNCH: Sheet lightning courage. The youth who could not shiver and
[23829]shake. (To Zoe.) Who taught you palmistry?
[23830]
[23831]ZOE: (Turns.) Ask my ballocks that I haven’t got. (To Stephen.) I see
[23832]it in your face. The eye, like that. (She frowns with lowered head.)
[23833]
[23834]LYNCH: (Laughing, slaps Kitty behind twice.) Like that. Pandybat.
[23835]
[23836](Twice loudly a pandybat cracks, the coffin of the pianola flies open,
[23837]the bald little round jack-in-the-box head of Father Dolan springs up.)
[23838]
[23839]FATHER DOLAN: Any boy want flogging? Broke his glasses? Lazy idle little
[23840]schemer. See it in your eye.
[23841]
[23842](Mild, benign, rectorial, reproving, the head of Don John Conmee rises
[23843]from the pianola coffin.)
[23844]
[23845]DON JOHN CONMEE: Now, Father Dolan! Now. I’m sure that Stephen is a
[23846]very good little boy!
[23847]
[23848]ZOE: (Examining Stephen’s palm.) Woman’s hand.
[23849]
[23850]STEPHEN: (Murmurs.) Continue. Lie. Hold me. Caress. I never could read
[23851]His handwriting except His criminal thumbprint on the haddock.
[23852]
[23853]ZOE: What day were you born?
[23854]
[23855]STEPHEN: Thursday. Today.
[23856]
[23857]ZOE: Thursday’s child has far to go. (She traces lines on his hand.)
[23858]Line of fate. Influential friends.
[23859]
[23860]FLORRY: (Pointing.) Imagination.
[23861]
[23862]ZOE: Mount of the moon. You’ll meet with a... (She peers at his hands
[23863]abruptly.) I won’t tell you what’s not good for you. Or do you want
[23864]to know?
[23865]
[23866]BLOOM: (Detaches her fingers and offers his palm.) More harm than good.
[23867]Here. Read mine.
[23868]
[23869]BELLA: Show. (She turns up Bloom’s hand.) I thought so. Knobby
[23870]knuckles for the women.
[23871]
[23872]ZOE: (Peering at Bloom’s palm.) Gridiron. Travels beyond the sea and
[23873]marry money.
[23874]
[23875]BLOOM: Wrong.
[23876]
[23877]ZOE: (Quickly.) O, I see. Short little finger. Henpecked husband. That
[23878]wrong?
[23879]
[23880](Black Liz, a huge rooster hatching in a chalked circle, rises,
[23881]stretches her wings and clucks.)
[23882]
[23883]BLACK LIZ: Gara. Klook. Klook. Klook.
[23884]
[23885](She sidles from her newlaid egg and waddles off.)
[23886]
[23887]BLOOM: (Points to his hand.) That weal there is an accident. Fell and
[23888]cut it twentytwo years ago. I was sixteen.
[23889]
[23890]ZOE: I see, says the blind man. Tell us news.
[23891]
[23892]STEPHEN: See? Moves to one great goal. I am twentytwo. Sixteen years ago
[23893]he was twentytwo too. Sixteen years ago I twentytwo tumbled. Twentytwo
[23894]years ago he sixteen fell off his hobbyhorse. (He winces.) Hurt my hand
[23895]somewhere. Must see a dentist. Money?
[23896]
[23897](Zoe whispers to Florry. They giggle. Bloom releases his hand and writes
[23898]idly on the table in backhand, pencilling slow curves.)
[23899]
[23900]FLORRY: What?
[23901]
[23902](A hackneycar, number three hundred and twentyfour, with a
[23903]gallantbuttocked mare, driven by James Barton, Harmony Avenue,
[23904]Donnybrook, trots past. Blazes Boylan and Lenehan sprawl swaying on the
[23905]sideseats. The Ormond boots crouches behind on the axle. Sadly over the
[23906]crossblind Lydia Douce and Mina Kennedy gaze.)
[23907]
[23908]THE BOOTS: (Jogging, mocks them with thumb and wriggling wormfingers.)
[23909]Haw haw have you the horn?
[23910]
[23911](Bronze by gold they whisper.)
[23912]
[23913]ZOE: (To Florry.) Whisper.
[23914]
[23915](They whisper again.)
[23916]
[23917](Over the well of the car Blazes Boylan leans, his boater straw set
[23918]sideways, a red flower in his mouth. Lenehan in yachtsman’s cap and
[23919]white shoes officiously detaches a long hair from Blazes Boylan’s coat
[23920]shoulder.)
[23921]
[23922]LENEHAN: Ho! What do I here behold? Were you brushing the cobwebs off a
[23923]few quims?
[23924]
[23925]BOYLAN: (Sated, smiles.) Plucking a turkey.
[23926]
[23927]LENEHAN: A good night’s work.
[23928]
[23929]BOYLAN: (Holding up four thick bluntungulated fingers, winks.) Blazes
[23930]Kate! Up to sample or your money back. (He holds out a forefinger.)
[23931]Smell that.
[23932]
[23933]LENEHAN: (Smells gleefully.) Ah! Lobster and mayonnaise. Ah!
[23934]
[23935]ZOE AND FLORRY: (Laugh together.) Ha ha ha ha.
[23936]
[23937]BOYLAN: (Jumps surely from the car and calls loudly for all to hear.)
[23938]Hello, Bloom! Mrs Bloom dressed yet?
[23939]
[23940]BLOOM: (In flunkey’s prune plush coat and kneebreeches, buff stockings
[23941]and powdered wig.) I’m afraid not, sir. The last articles...
[23942]
[23943]BOYLAN: (Tosses him sixpence.) Here, to buy yourself a gin and splash.
[23944](He hangs his hat smartly on a peg of Bloom’s antlered head.) Show me
[23945]in. I have a little private business with your wife, you understand?
[23946]
[23947]BLOOM: Thank you, sir. Yes, sir. Madam Tweedy is in her bath, sir.
[23948]
[23949]MARION: He ought to feel himself highly honoured. (She plops splashing
[23950]out of the water.) Raoul darling, come and dry me. I’m in my pelt.
[23951]Only my new hat and a carriage sponge.
[23952]
[23953]BOYLAN: (A merry twinkle in his eye.) Topping!
[23954]
[23955]BELLA: What? What is it?
[23956]
[23957](Zoe whispers to her.)
[23958]
[23959]MARION: Let him look, the pishogue! Pimp! And scourge himself! I’ll
[23960]write to a powerful prostitute or Bartholomona, the bearded woman, to
[23961]raise weals out on him an inch thick and make him bring me back a signed
[23962]and stamped receipt.
[23963]
[23964]BOYLAN: (Clasps himself.) Here, I can’t hold this little lot much
[23965]longer. (He strides off on stiff cavalry legs.)
[23966]
[23967]BELLA: (Laughing.) Ho ho ho ho.
[23968]
[23969]BOYLAN: (To Bloom, over his shoulder.) You can apply your eye to the
[23970]keyhole and play with yourself while I just go through her a few times.
[23971]
[23972]BLOOM: Thank you, sir. I will, sir. May I bring two men chums to witness
[23973]the deed and take a snapshot? (He holds out an ointment jar.) Vaseline,
[23974]sir? Orangeflower...? Lukewarm water...?
[23975]
[23976]KITTY: (From the sofa.) Tell us, Florry. Tell us. What...
[23977]
[23978](Florry whispers to her. Whispering lovewords murmur, liplapping loudly,
[23979]poppysmic plopslop.)
[23980]
[23981]MINA KENNEDY: (Her eyes upturned.) O, it must be like the scent of
[23982]geraniums and lovely peaches! O, he simply idolises every bit of her!
[23983]Stuck together! Covered with kisses!
[23984]
[23985]LYDIA DOUCE: (Her mouth opening.) Yumyum. O, he’s carrying her round
[23986]the room doing it! Ride a cockhorse. You could hear them in Paris and
[23987]New York. Like mouthfuls of strawberries and cream.
[23988]
[23989]KITTY: (Laughing.) Hee hee hee.
[23990]
[23991]BOYLAN’S VOICE: (Sweetly, hoarsely, in the pit of his stomach.) Ah!
[23992]Godblazeqrukbrukarchkrasht!
[23993]
[23994]MARION’S VOICE: (Hoarsely, sweetly, rising to her throat.) O!
[23995]Weeshwashtkissinapooisthnapoohuck?
[23996]
[23997]BLOOM: (His eyes wildly dilated, clasps himself.) Show! Hide! Show!
[23998]Plough her! More! Shoot!
[23999]
[24000]BELLA, ZOE, FLORRY, KITTY: Ho ho! Ha ha! Hee hee!
[24001]
[24002]LYNCH: (Points.) The mirror up to nature. (He laughs.) Hu hu hu hu hu!
[24003]
[24004](Stephen and Bloom gaze in the mirror. The face of William Shakespeare,
[24005]beardless, appears there, rigid in facial paralysis, crowned by the
[24006]reflection of the reindeer antlered hatrack in the hall.)
[24007]
[24008]SHAKESPEARE: (In dignified ventriloquy.) ’Tis the loud laugh bespeaks
[24009]the vacant mind. (To Bloom.) Thou thoughtest as how thou wastest
[24010]invisible. Gaze. (He crows with a black capon’s laugh.) Iagogo! How my
[24011]Oldfellow chokit his Thursdaymornun. Iagogogo!
[24012]
[24013]BLOOM: (Smiles yellowly at the three whores.) When will I hear the joke?
[24014]
[24015]ZOE: Before you’re twice married and once a widower.
[24016]
[24017]BLOOM: Lapses are condoned. Even the great Napoleon when measurements
[24018]were taken next the skin after his death...
[24019]
[24020](Mrs Dignam, widow woman, her snubnose and cheeks flushed with
[24021]deathtalk, tears and Tunney’s tawny sherry, hurries by in her weeds,
[24022]her bonnet awry, rouging and powdering her cheeks, lips and nose, a
[24023]pen chivvying her brood of cygnets. Beneath her skirt appear her late
[24024]husband’s everyday trousers and turnedup boots, large eights. She
[24025]holds a Scottish widow’s insurance policy and a large marquee umbrella
[24026]under which her brood run with her, Patsy hopping on one shod foot, his
[24027]collar loose, a hank of porksteaks dangling, Freddy whimpering, Susy
[24028]with a crying cod’s mouth, Alice struggling with the baby. She cuffs
[24029]them on, her streamers flaunting aloft.)
[24030]
[24031]FREDDY: Ah, ma, you’re dragging me along!
[24032]
[24033]SUSY: Mamma, the beeftea is fizzing over!
[24034]
[24035]SHAKESPEARE: (With paralytic rage.) Weda seca whokilla farst.
[24036]
[24037](The face of Martin Cunningham, bearded, refeatures Shakespeare’s
[24038]beardless face. The marquee umbrella sways drunkenly, the children run
[24039]aside. Under the umbrella appears Mrs Cunningham in Merry Widow hat and
[24040]kimono gown. She glides sidling and bowing, twirling japanesily.)
[24041]
[24042]MRS CUNNINGHAM: (Sings.)
[24043]
[24044] And they call me the jewel of Asia!
[24045]MARTIN CUNNINGHAM: (Gazes on her, impassive.) Immense! Most bloody awful
[24046]demirep!
[24047]
[24048]STEPHEN: Et exaltabuntur cornua iusti. Queens lay with prize bulls.
[24049]Remember Pasiphae for whose lust my grandoldgrossfather made the first
[24050]confessionbox. Forget not Madam Grissel Steevens nor the suine scions
[24051]of the house of Lambert. And Noah was drunk with wine. And his ark was
[24052]open.
[24053]
[24054]BELLA: None of that here. Come to the wrong shop.
[24055]
[24056]LYNCH: Let him alone. He’s back from Paris.
[24057]
[24058]ZOE: (Runs to stephen and links him.) O go on! Give us some parleyvoo.
[24059]
[24060](Stephen claps hat on head and leaps over to the fireplace where he
[24061]stands with shrugged shoulders, finny hands outspread, a painted smile
[24062]on his face.)
[24063]
[24064]LYNCH: (Pommelling on the sofa.) Rmm Rmm Rmm Rrrrrrmmmmm.
[24065]
[24066]STEPHEN: (Gabbles with marionette jerks.) Thousand places of
[24067]entertainment to expense your evenings with lovely ladies saling gloves
[24068]and other things perhaps hers heart beerchops perfect fashionable
[24069]house very eccentric where lots cocottes beautiful dressed much about
[24070]princesses like are dancing cancan and walking there parisian clowneries
[24071]extra foolish for bachelors foreigns the same if talking a poor english
[24072]how much smart they are on things love and sensations voluptuous.
[24073]Misters very selects for is pleasure must to visit heaven and hell show
[24074]with mortuary candles and they tears silver which occur every night.
[24075]Perfectly shocking terrific of religion’s things mockery seen in
[24076]universal world. All chic womans which arrive full of modesty then
[24077]disrobe and squeal loud to see vampire man debauch nun very fresh young
[24078]with dessous troublants. (He clacks his tongue loudly.) Ho, là là! Ce
[24079]pif qu’il a!
[24080]
[24081]LYNCH: Vive le vampire!
[24082]
[24083]THE WHORES: Bravo! Parleyvoo!
[24084]
[24085]STEPHEN: (Grimacing with head back, laughs loudly, clapping himself.)
[24086]Great success of laughing. Angels much prostitutes like and holy
[24087]apostles big damn ruffians. Demimondaines nicely handsome sparkling of
[24088]diamonds very amiable costumed. Or do you are fond better what belongs
[24089]they moderns pleasure turpitude of old mans? (He points about him with
[24090]grotesque gestures which Lynch and the whores reply to.) Caoutchouc
[24091]statue woman reversible or lifesize tompeeptom of virgins nudities very
[24092]lesbic the kiss five ten times. Enter, gentleman, to see in mirror every
[24093]positions trapezes all that machine there besides also if desire act
[24094]awfully bestial butcher’s boy pollutes in warm veal liver or omlet on
[24095]the belly pièce de Shakespeare.
[24096]
[24097]BELLA: (Clapping her belly sinks back on the sofa, with a shout of
[24098]laughter.) An omelette on the... Ho! ho! ho! ho!... omelette on the...
[24099]
[24100]STEPHEN: (Mincingly.) I love you, sir darling. Speak you englishman
[24101]tongue for double entente cordiale. O yes, mon loup. How much cost?
[24102]Waterloo. Watercloset. (He ceases suddenly and holds up a forefinger.)
[24103]
[24104]BELLA: (Laughing.) Omelette...
[24105]
[24106]THE WHORES: (Laughing.) Encore! Encore!
[24107]
[24108]STEPHEN: Mark me. I dreamt of a watermelon.
[24109]
[24110]ZOE: Go abroad and love a foreign lady.
[24111]
[24112]LYNCH: Across the world for a wife.
[24113]
[24114]FLORRY: Dreams goes by contraries.
[24115]
[24116]STEPHEN: (Extends his arms.) It was here. Street of harlots. In
[24117]Serpentine avenue Beelzebub showed me her, a fubsy widow. Where’s the
[24118]red carpet spread?
[24119]
[24120]BLOOM: (Approaching Stephen.) Look...
[24121]
[24122]STEPHEN: No, I flew. My foes beneath me. And ever shall be. World
[24123]without end. (He cries.) Pater! Free!
[24124]
[24125]BLOOM: I say, look...
[24126]
[24127]STEPHEN: Break my spirit, will he? O merde alors! (He cries, his vulture
[24128]talons sharpened.) Hola! Hillyho!
[24129]
[24130](Simon Dedalus’ voice hilloes in answer, somewhat sleepy but ready.)
[24131]
[24132]SIMON: That’s all right. (He swoops uncertainly through the air,
[24133]wheeling, uttering cries of heartening, on strong ponderous buzzard
[24134]wings.) Ho, boy! Are you going to win? Hoop! Pschatt! Stable with those
[24135]halfcastes. Wouldn’t let them within the bawl of an ass. Head up!
[24136]Keep our flag flying! An eagle gules volant in a field argent displayed.
[24137]Ulster king at arms! Haihoop! (He makes the beagle’s call, giving
[24138]tongue.) Bulbul! Burblblburblbl! Hai, boy!
[24139]
[24140](The fronds and spaces of the wallpaper file rapidly across country.
[24141]A stout fox, drawn from covert, brush pointed, having buried his
[24142]grandmother, runs swift for the open, brighteyed, seeking badger earth,
[24143]under the leaves. The pack of staghounds follows, nose to the ground,
[24144]sniffing their quarry, beaglebaying, burblbrbling to be blooded. Ward
[24145]Union huntsmen and huntswomen live with them, hot for a kill. From Six
[24146]Mile Point, Flathouse, Nine Mile Stone follow the footpeople with knotty
[24147]sticks, hayforks, salmongaffs, lassos, flockmasters with stockwhips,
[24148]bearbaiters with tomtoms, toreadors with bullswords, grey negroes
[24149]waving torches. The crowd bawls of dicers, crown and anchor players,
[24150]thimbleriggers, broadsmen. Crows and touts, hoarse bookies in high
[24151]wizard hats clamour deafeningly.)
[24152]
[24153]THE CROWD:
[24154]
[24155] Card of the races. Racing card!
[24156] Ten to one the field!
[24157] Tommy on the clay here! Tommy on the clay!
[24158] Ten to one bar one! Ten to one bar one!
[24159] Try your luck on Spinning Jenny!
[24160] Ten to one bar one!
[24161] Sell the monkey, boys! Sell the monkey!
[24162] I’ll give ten to one!
[24163] Ten to one bar one!
[24164](A dark horse, riderless, bolts like a phantom past the winningpost,
[24165]his mane moonfoaming, his eyeballs stars. The field follows, a bunch of
[24166]bucking mounts. Skeleton horses, Sceptre, Maximum the Second, Zinfandel,
[24167]the Duke of Westminster’s Shotover, Repulse, the Duke of Beaufort’s
[24168]Ceylon, prix de Paris. Dwarfs ride them, rustyarmoured, leaping, leaping
[24169]in their, in their saddles. Last in a drizzle of rain on a brokenwinded
[24170]isabelle nag, Cock of the North, the favourite, honey cap, green jacket,
[24171]orange sleeves, Garrett Deasy up, gripping the reins, a hockeystick at
[24172]the ready. His nag on spavined whitegaitered feet jogs along the rocky
[24173]road.)
[24174]
[24175]THE ORANGE LODGES: (Jeering.) Get down and push, mister. Last lap!
[24176]You’ll be home the night!
[24177]
[24178]GARRETT DEASY: (Bolt upright, his nailscraped face plastered with
[24179]postagestamps, brandishes his hockeystick, his blue eyes flashing in the
[24180]prism of the chandelier as his mount lopes by at schooling gallop.)
[24181]
[24182]Per vias rectas!
[24183]
[24184](A yoke of buckets leopards all over him and his rearing nag a torrent
[24185]of mutton broth with dancing coins of carrots, barley, onions, turnips,
[24186]potatoes.)
[24187]
[24188]THE GREEN LODGES: Soft day, sir John! Soft day, your honour!
[24189]
[24190](Private Carr, Private Compton and Cissy Caffrey pass beneath the
[24191]windows, singing in discord.)
[24192]
[24193]STEPHEN: Hark! Our friend noise in the street.
[24194]
[24195]ZOE: (Holds up her hand.) Stop!
[24196]
[24197]PRIVATE CARR, PRIVATE COMPTON AND CISSY CAFFREY:
[24198]
[24199] Yet I’ve a sort of a
[24200] Yorkshire relish for...
[24201]ZOE: That’s me. (She claps her hands.) Dance! Dance! (She runs to the
[24202]pianola.) Who has twopence?
[24203]
[24204]BLOOM: Who’ll...?
[24205]
[24206]LYNCH: (Handing her coins.) Here.
[24207]
[24208]STEPHEN: (Cracking his fingers impatiently.) Quick! Quick! Where’s my
[24209]augur’s rod? (He runs to the piano and takes his ashplant, beating his
[24210]foot in tripudium.)
[24211]
[24212]ZOE: (Turns the drumhandle.) There.
[24213]
[24214](She drops two pennies in the slot. Gold, pink and violet lights
[24215]start forth. The drum turns purring in low hesitation waltz. Professor
[24216]Goodwin, in a bowknotted periwig, in court dress, wearing a stained
[24217]inverness cape, bent in two from incredible age, totters across the
[24218]room, his hands fluttering. He sits tinily on the pianostool and
[24219]lifts and beats handless sticks of arms on the keyboard, nodding with
[24220]damsel’s grace, his bowknot bobbing.)
[24221]
[24222]ZOE: (Twirls round herself, heeltapping.) Dance. Anybody here for there?
[24223]Who’ll dance? Clear the table.
[24224]
[24225](The pianola with changing lights plays in waltz time the prelude of My
[24226]Girl’s a Yorkshire Girl. Stephen throws his ashplant on the table and
[24227]seizes Zoe round the waist. Florry and Bella push the table towards the
[24228]fireplace. Stephen, arming Zoe with exaggerated grace, begins to waltz
[24229]her round the room. Bloom stands aside. Her sleeve falling from gracing
[24230]arms, reveals a white fleshflower of vaccination. Between the curtains
[24231]Professor Maginni inserts a leg on the toepoint of which spins a silk
[24232]hat. With a deft kick he sends it spinning to his crown and jauntyhatted
[24233]skates in. He wears a slate frockcoat with claret silk lapels, a gorget
[24234]of cream tulle, a green lowcut waistcoat, stock collar with white
[24235]kerchief, tight lavender trousers, patent pumps and canary gloves. In
[24236]his buttonhole is an immense dahlia. He twirls in reversed directions
[24237]a clouded cane, then wedges it tight in his oxter. He places a hand
[24238]lightly on his breastbone, bows, and fondles his flower and buttons.)
[24239]
[24240]MAGINNI: The poetry of motion, art of calisthenics. No connection with
[24241]Madam Legget Byrne’s or Levenston’s. Fancy dress balls arranged.
[24242]Deportment. The Katty Lanner step. So. Watch me! My terpsichorean
[24243]abilities. (He minuets forward three paces on tripping bee’s feet.)
[24244]Tout le monde en avant! Révérence! Tout le monde en place!
[24245]
[24246](The prelude ceases. Professor Goodwin, beating vague arms shrivels,
[24247]sinks, his live cape falling about the stool. The air in firmer waltz
[24248]time sounds. Stephen and Zoe circle freely. The lights change, glow,
[24249]fade gold rosy violet.)
[24250]
[24251]THE PIANOLA:
[24252]
[24253] Two young fellows were talking about their girls, girls, girls,
[24254] Sweethearts they’d left behind...
[24255](From a corner the morning hours run out, goldhaired, slimsandalled,
[24256]in girlish blue, waspwaisted, with innocent hands. Nimbly they dance,
[24257]twirling their skipping ropes. The hours of noon follow in amber gold.
[24258]Laughing, linked, high haircombs flashing, they catch the sun in mocking
[24259]mirrors, lifting their arms.)
[24260]
[24261]MAGINNI: (Clipclaps glovesilent hands.) Carré! Avant deux! Breathe
[24262]evenly! Balance!
[24263]
[24264](The morning and noon hours waltz in their places, turning, advancing to
[24265]each other, shaping their curves, bowing visavis. Cavaliers behind them
[24266]arch and suspend their arms, with hands descending to, touching, rising
[24267]from their shoulders.)
[24268]
[24269]HOURS: You may touch my.
[24270]
[24271]CAVALIERS: May I touch your?
[24272]
[24273]HOURS: O, but lightly!
[24274]
[24275]CAVALIERS: O, so lightly!
[24276]
[24277]THE PIANOLA:
[24278]
[24279] My little shy little lass has a waist.
[24280](Zoe and Stephen turn boldly with looser swing. The twilight hours
[24281]advance from long landshadows, dispersed, lagging, languideyed, their
[24282]cheeks delicate with cipria and false faint bloom. They are in grey
[24283]gauze with dark bat sleeves that flutter in the land breeze.)
[24284]
[24285]MAGINNI: Avant huit! Traversé! Salut! Cours de mains! Croisé!
[24286]
[24287](The night hours, one by one, steal to the last place. Morning, noon and
[24288]twilight hours retreat before them. They are masked, with daggered hair
[24289]and bracelets of dull bells. Weary they curchycurchy under veils.)
[24290]
[24291]THE BRACELETS: Heigho! Heigho!
[24292]
[24293]ZOE: (Twirling, her hand to her brow.) O!
[24294]
[24295]MAGINNI: Les tiroirs! Chaîne de dames! La corbeille! Dos à dos!
[24296]
[24297](Arabesquing wearily they weave a pattern on the floor, weaving,
[24298]unweaving, curtseying, twirling, simply swirling.)
[24299]
[24300]ZOE: I’m giddy!
[24301]
[24302](She frees herself, droops on a chair. Stephen seizes Florry and turns
[24303]with her.)
[24304]
[24305]MAGINNI: Boulangère! Les ronds! Les ponts! Chevaux de bois! Escargots!
[24306]
[24307](Twining, receding, with interchanging hands the night hours link each
[24308]each with arching arms in a mosaic of movements. Stephen and Florry turn
[24309]cumbrously.)
[24310]
[24311]MAGINNI: Dansez avec vos dames! Changez de dames! Donnez le petit
[24312]bouquet à votre dame! Remerciez!
[24313]
[24314]THE PIANOLA:
[24315]
[24316] Best, best of all,
[24317] Baraabum!
[24318]KITTY: (Jumps up.) O, they played that on the hobbyhorses at the Mirus
[24319]bazaar!
[24320]
[24321](She runs to Stephen. He leaves Florry brusquely and seizes Kitty. A
[24322]screaming bittern’s harsh high whistle shrieks. Groangrousegurgling
[24323]Toft’s cumbersome whirligig turns slowly the room right roundabout the
[24324]room.)
[24325]
[24326]THE PIANOLA:
[24327]
[24328] My girl’s a Yorkshire girl.
[24329]ZOE:
[24330]
[24331]Yorkshire through and through. Come on all!
[24332]
[24333](She seizes Florry and waltzes her.)
[24334]
[24335]STEPHEN: Pas seul!
[24336]
[24337](He wheels Kitty into Lynch’s arms, snatches up his ashplant from
[24338]the table and takes the floor. All wheel whirl waltz twirl. Bloombella
[24339]Kittylynch Florryzoe jujuby women. Stephen with hat ashplant frogsplits
[24340]in middle highkicks with skykicking mouth shut hand clasp part under
[24341]thigh. With clang tinkle boomhammer tallyho hornblower blue green yellow
[24342]flashes Toft’s cumbersome turns with hobbyhorse riders from gilded
[24343]snakes dangled, bowels fandango leaping spurn soil foot and fall again.)
[24344]
[24345]THE PIANOLA:
[24346]
[24347] Though she’s a factory lass
[24348] And wears no fancy clothes.
[24349](Closeclutched swift swifter with glareblareflare scudding they
[24350]scootlootshoot lumbering by. Baraabum!)
[24351]
[24352]TUTTI: Encore! Bis! Bravo! Encore!
[24353]
[24354]SIMON: Think of your mother’s people!
[24355]
[24356]STEPHEN: Dance of death.
[24357]
[24358](Bang fresh barang bang of lacquey’s bell, horse, nag, steer,
[24359]piglings, Conmee on Christass, lame crutch and leg sailor in cockboat
[24360]armfolded ropepulling hitching stamp hornpipe through and through.
[24361]Baraabum! On nags hogs bellhorses Gadarene swine Corny in coffin steel
[24362]shark stone onehandled Nelson two trickies Frauenzimmer plumstained from
[24363]pram falling bawling. Gum he’s a champion. Fuseblue peer from barrel
[24364]rev. evensong Love on hackney jaunt Blazes blind coddoubled bicyclers
[24365]Dilly with snowcake no fancy clothes. Then in last switchback lumbering
[24366]up and down bump mashtub sort of viceroy and reine relish for tublumber
[24367]bumpshire rose. Baraabum!)
[24368]
[24369](The couples fall aside. Stephen whirls giddily. Room whirls back. Eyes
[24370]closed he totters. Red rails fly spacewards. Stars all around suns turn
[24371]roundabout. Bright midges dance on walls. He stops dead.)
[24372]
[24373]STEPHEN: Ho!
[24374]
[24375](Stephen’s mother, emaciated, rises stark through the floor, in leper
[24376]grey with a wreath of faded orangeblossoms and a torn bridal veil, her
[24377]face worn and noseless, green with gravemould. Her hair is scant and
[24378]lank. She fixes her bluecircled hollow eyesockets on Stephen and opens
[24379]her toothless mouth uttering a silent word. A choir of virgins and
[24380]confessors sing voicelessly.)
[24381]
[24382]THE CHOIR:
[24383]
[24384] Liliata rutilantium te confessorum...
[24385] Iubilantium te virginum...
[24386](From the top of a tower Buck Mulligan, in particoloured jester’s
[24387]dress of puce and yellow and clown’s cap with curling bell, stands
[24388]gaping at her, a smoking buttered split scone in his hand.)
[24389]
[24390]BUCK MULLIGAN: She’s beastly dead. The pity of it! Mulligan meets the
[24391]afflicted mother. (He upturns his eyes.) Mercurial Malachi!
[24392]
[24393]THE MOTHER: (With the subtle smile of death’s madness.) I was once the
[24394]beautiful May Goulding. I am dead.
[24395]
[24396]STEPHEN: (Horrorstruck.) Lemur, who are you? No. What bogeyman’s trick
[24397]is this?
[24398]
[24399]BUCK MULLIGAN: (Shakes his curling capbell.) The mockery of it! Kinch
[24400]dogsbody killed her bitchbody. She kicked the bucket. (Tears of molten
[24401]butter fall from his eyes on to the scone.) Our great sweet mother! Epi
[24402]oinopa ponton.
[24403]
[24404]THE MOTHER: (Comes nearer, breathing upon him softly her breath of
[24405]wetted ashes.) All must go through it, Stephen. More women than men in
[24406]the world. You too. Time will come.
[24407]
[24408]STEPHEN: (Choking with fright, remorse and horror.) They say I killed
[24409]you, mother. He offended your memory. Cancer did it, not I. Destiny.
[24410]
[24411]THE MOTHER: (A green rill of bile trickling from a side of her mouth.)
[24412]You sang that song to me. Love’s bitter mystery.
[24413]
[24414]STEPHEN: (Eagerly.) Tell me the word, mother, if you know now. The word
[24415]known to all men.
[24416]
[24417]THE MOTHER: Who saved you the night you jumped into the train at
[24418]Dalkey with Paddy Lee? Who had pity for you when you were sad among the
[24419]strangers? Prayer is allpowerful. Prayer for the suffering souls in the
[24420]Ursuline manual and forty days’ indulgence. Repent, Stephen.
[24421]
[24422]STEPHEN: The ghoul! Hyena!
[24423]
[24424]THE MOTHER: I pray for you in my other world. Get Dilly to make you that
[24425]boiled rice every night after your brainwork. Years and years I loved
[24426]you, O, my son, my firstborn, when you lay in my womb.
[24427]
[24428]ZOE: (Fanning herself with the grate fan.) I’m melting!
[24429]
[24430]FLORRY: (Points to Stephen.) Look! He’s white.
[24431]
[24432]BLOOM: (Goes to the window to open it more.) Giddy.
[24433]
[24434]THE MOTHER: (With smouldering eyes.) Repent! O, the fire of hell!
[24435]
[24436]STEPHEN: (Panting.) His noncorrosive sublimate! The corpsechewer! Raw
[24437]head and bloody bones.
[24438]
[24439]THE MOTHER: (Her face drawing near and nearer, sending out an ashen
[24440]breath.) Beware! (She raises her blackened withered right arm slowly
[24441]towards Stephen’s breast with outstretched finger.) Beware God’s
[24442]hand! (A green crab with malignant red eyes sticks deep its grinning
[24443]claws in Stephen’s heart.)
[24444]
[24445]STEPHEN: (Strangled with rage.) Shite! (His features grow drawn and grey
[24446]and old.)
[24447]
[24448]BLOOM: (At the window.) What?
[24449]
[24450]STEPHEN: Ah non, par exemple! The intellectual imagination! With me all
[24451]or not at all. Non serviam!
[24452]
[24453]FLORRY: Give him some cold water. Wait. (She rushes out.)
[24454]
[24455]THE MOTHER: (Wrings her hands slowly, moaning desperately.) O Sacred
[24456]Heart of Jesus, have mercy on him! Save him from hell, O Divine Sacred
[24457]Heart!
[24458]
[24459]STEPHEN: No! No! No! Break my spirit, all of you, if you can! I’ll
[24460]bring you all to heel!
[24461]
[24462]THE MOTHER: (In the agony of her deathrattle.) Have mercy on Stephen,
[24463]Lord, for my sake! Inexpressible was my anguish when expiring with love,
[24464]grief and agony on Mount Calvary.
[24465]
[24466]STEPHEN: Nothung!
[24467]
[24468](He lifts his ashplant high with both hands and smashes the chandelier.
[24469]Time’s livid final flame leaps and, in the following darkness, ruin of
[24470]all space, shattered glass and toppling masonry.)
[24471]
[24472]THE GASJET: Pwfungg!
[24473]
[24474]BLOOM: Stop!
[24475]
[24476]LYNCH: (Rushes forward and seizes Stephen’s hand.) Here! Hold on!
[24477]Don’t run amok!
[24478]
[24479]BELLA: Police!
[24480]
[24481](Stephen, abandoning his ashplant, his head and arms thrown back stark,
[24482]beats the ground and flies from the room, past the whores at the door.)
[24483]
[24484]BELLA: (Screams.) After him!
[24485]
[24486](The two whores rush to the halldoor. Lynch and Kitty and Zoe stampede
[24487]from the room. They talk excitedly. Bloom follows, returns.)
[24488]
[24489]THE WHORES: (Jammed in the doorway, pointing.) Down there.
[24490]
[24491]ZOE: (Pointing.) There. There’s something up.
[24492]
[24493]BELLA: Who pays for the lamp? (She seizes Bloom’s coattail.) Here, you
[24494]were with him. The lamp’s broken.
[24495]
[24496]BLOOM: (Rushes to the hall, rushes back.) What lamp, woman?
[24497]
[24498]A WHORE: He tore his coat.
[24499]
[24500]BELLA: (Her eyes hard with anger and cupidity, points.) Who’s to pay
[24501]for that? Ten shillings. You’re a witness.
[24502]
[24503]BLOOM: (Snatches up Stephen’s ashplant.) Me? Ten shillings? Haven’t
[24504]you lifted enough off him? Didn’t he...?
[24505]
[24506]BELLA: (Loudly.) Here, none of your tall talk. This isn’t a brothel. A
[24507]ten shilling house.
[24508]
[24509]BLOOM: (His head under the lamp, pulls the chain. Pulling, the gasjet
[24510]lights up a crushed mauve purple shade. He raises the ashplant.) Only
[24511]the chimney’s broken. Here is all he...
[24512]
[24513]BELLA: (Shrinks back and screams.) Jesus! Don’t!
[24514]
[24515]BLOOM: (Warding off a blow.) To show you how he hit the paper. There’s
[24516]not sixpenceworth of damage done. Ten shillings!
[24517]
[24518]FLORRY: (With a glass of water, enters.) Where is he?
[24519]
[24520]BELLA: Do you want me to call the police?
[24521]
[24522]BLOOM: O, I know. Bulldog on the premises. But he’s a Trinity student.
[24523]Patrons of your establishment. Gentlemen that pay the rent. (He makes
[24524]a masonic sign.) Know what I mean? Nephew of the vicechancellor. You
[24525]don’t want a scandal.
[24526]
[24527]BELLA: (Angrily.) Trinity. Coming down here ragging after the boatraces
[24528]and paying nothing. Are you my commander here or? Where is he? I’ll
[24529]charge him! Disgrace him, I will! (She shouts.) Zoe! Zoe!
[24530]
[24531]BLOOM: (Urgently.) And if it were your own son in Oxford? (Warningly.) I
[24532]know.
[24533]
[24534]BELLA: (Almost speechless.) Who are. Incog!
[24535]
[24536]ZOE: (In the doorway.) There’s a row on.
[24537]
[24538]BLOOM: What? Where? (He throws a shilling on the table and starts.)
[24539]That’s for the chimney. Where? I need mountain air.
[24540]
[24541](He hurries out through the hall. The whores point. Florry follows,
[24542]spilling water from her tilted tumbler. On the doorstep all the whores
[24543]clustered talk volubly, pointing to the right where the fog has cleared
[24544]off. From the left arrives a jingling hackney car. It slows to in front
[24545]of the house. Bloom at the halldoor perceives Corny Kelleher who is
[24546]about to dismount from the car with two silent lechers. He averts
[24547]his face. Bella from within the hall urges on her whores. They blow
[24548]ickylickysticky yumyum kisses. Corny Kelleher replies with a ghastly
[24549]lewd smile. The silent lechers turn to pay the jarvey. Zoe and Kitty
[24550]still point right. Bloom, parting them swiftly, draws his caliph’s
[24551]hood and poncho and hurries down the steps with sideways face. Incog
[24552]Haroun al Raschid he flits behind the silent lechers and hastens on by
[24553]the railings with fleet step of a pard strewing the drag behind him,
[24554]torn envelopes drenched in aniseed. The ashplant marks his stride. A
[24555]pack of bloodhounds, led by Hornblower of Trinity brandishing a dogwhip
[24556]in tallyho cap and an old pair of grey trousers, follows from far,
[24557]picking up the scent, nearer, baying, panting, at fault, breaking away,
[24558]throwing their tongues, biting his heels, leaping at his tail. He
[24559]walks, runs, zigzags, gallops, lugs laid back. He is pelted with gravel,
[24560]cabbagestumps, biscuitboxes, eggs, potatoes, dead codfish, woman’s
[24561]slipperslappers. After him freshfound the hue and cry zigzag gallops
[24562]in hot pursuit of follow my leader: 65 C, 66 C, night watch, John Henry
[24563]Menton, Wisdom Hely, V. B. Dillon, Councillor Nannetti, Alexander Keyes,
[24564]Larry O’Rourke, Joe Cuffe, Mrs O’Dowd, Pisser Burke, The Nameless
[24565]One, Mrs Riordan, The Citizen, Garryowen, Whodoyoucallhim, Strangeface,
[24566]Fellowthatsolike, Sawhimbefore, Chapwithawen, Chris Callinan, sir
[24567]Charles Cameron, Benjamin Dollard, Lenehan, Bartell d’Arcy, Joe Hynes,
[24568]red Murray, editor Brayden, T. M. Healy, Mr Justice Fitzgibbon, John
[24569]Howard Parnell, the reverend Tinned Salmon, Professor Joly, Mrs
[24570]Breen, Denis Breen, Theodore Purefoy, Mina Purefoy, the Westland
[24571]Row postmistress, C. P. M’Coy, friend of Lyons, Hoppy Holohan,
[24572]maninthestreet, othermaninthestreet, Footballboots, pugnosed driver,
[24573]rich protestant lady, Davy Byrne, Mrs Ellen M’Guinness, Mrs Joe
[24574]Gallaher, George Lidwell, Jimmy Henry on corns, Superintendent Laracy,
[24575]Father Cowley, Crofton out of the Collector-general’s, Dan Dawson,
[24576]dental surgeon Bloom with tweezers, Mrs Bob Doran, Mrs Kennefick,
[24577]Mrs Wyse Nolan, John Wyse Nolan,
[24578]handsomemarriedwomanrubbedagainstwidebehindinClonskea tram, the
[24579]bookseller of Sweets of Sin, Miss Dubedatandshedidbedad, Mesdames Gerald
[24580]and Stanislaus Moran of Roebuck, the managing clerk of Drimmie’s,
[24581]Wetherup, colonel Hayes, Mastiansky, Citron, Penrose, Aaron Figatner,
[24582]Moses Herzog, Michael E Geraghty, Inspector Troy, Mrs Galbraith, the
[24583]constable off Eccles street corner, old doctor Brady with stethoscope,
[24584]the mystery man on the beach, a retriever, Mrs Miriam Dandrade and all
[24585]her lovers.)
[24586]
[24587]THE HUE AND CRY: (Helterskelterpelterwelter.) He’s Bloom! Stop Bloom!
[24588]Stopabloom! Stopperrobber! Hi! Hi! Stophim on the corner!
[24589]
[24590](At the corner of Beaver street beneath the scaffolding Bloom panting
[24591]stops on the fringe of the noisy quarrelling knot, a lot not knowing a
[24592]jot what hi! hi! row and wrangle round the whowhat brawlaltogether.)
[24593]
[24594]STEPHEN: (With elaborate gestures, breathing deeply and slowly.) You are
[24595]my guests. Uninvited. By virtue of the fifth of George and seventh of
[24596]Edward. History to blame. Fabled by mothers of memory.
[24597]
[24598]PRIVATE CARR: (To Cissy Caffrey.) Was he insulting you?
[24599]
[24600]STEPHEN: Addressed her in vocative feminine. Probably neuter.
[24601]Ungenitive.
[24602]
[24603]VOICES: No, he didn’t. I seen him. The girl there. He was in Mrs
[24604]Cohen’s. What’s up? Soldier and civilian.
[24605]
[24606]CISSY CAFFREY: I was in company with the soldiers and they left me to
[24607]do—you know, and the young man run up behind me. But I’m faithful to
[24608]the man that’s treating me though I’m only a shilling whore.
[24609]
[24610]STEPHEN: (Catches sight of Lynch’s and Kitty’s heads.) Hail,
[24611]Sisyphus. (He points to himself and the others.) Poetic. Uropoetic.
[24612]
[24613]VOICES: Shes faithfultheman.
[24614]
[24615]CISSY CAFFREY: Yes, to go with him. And me with a soldier friend.
[24616]
[24617]PRIVATE COMPTON: He doesn’t half want a thick ear, the blighter. Biff
[24618]him one, Harry.
[24619]
[24620]PRIVATE CARR: (To Cissy.) Was he insulting you while me and him was
[24621]having a piss?
[24622]
[24623]LORD TENNYSON: (Gentleman poet in Union Jack blazer and cricket
[24624]flannels, bareheaded, flowingbearded.) Theirs not to reason why.
[24625]
[24626]PRIVATE COMPTON: Biff him, Harry.
[24627]
[24628]STEPHEN: (To Private Compton.) I don’t know your name but you are
[24629]quite right. Doctor Swift says one man in armour will beat ten men in
[24630]their shirts. Shirt is synechdoche. Part for the whole.
[24631]
[24632]CISSY CAFFREY: (To the crowd.) No, I was with the privates.
[24633]
[24634]STEPHEN: (Amiably.) Why not? The bold soldier boy. In my opinion every
[24635]lady for example...
[24636]
[24637]PRIVATE CARR: (His cap awry, advances to Stephen.) Say, how would it be,
[24638]governor, if I was to bash in your jaw?
[24639]
[24640]STEPHEN: (Looks up to the sky.) How? Very unpleasant. Noble art of
[24641]selfpretence. Personally, I detest action. (He waves his hand.) Hand
[24642]hurts me slightly. Enfin ce sont vos oignons. (To Cissy Caffrey.) Some
[24643]trouble is on here. What is it precisely?
[24644]
[24645]DOLLY GRAY: (From her balcony waves her handkerchief, giving the sign
[24646]of the heroine of Jericho.) Rahab. Cook’s son, goodbye. Safe home to
[24647]Dolly. Dream of the girl you left behind and she will dream of you.
[24648]
[24649](The soldiers turn their swimming eyes.)
[24650]
[24651]BLOOM: (Elbowing through the crowd, plucks Stephen’s sleeve
[24652]vigorously.) Come now, professor, that carman is waiting.
[24653]
[24654]STEPHEN: (Turns.) Eh? (He disengages himself.) Why should I not speak to
[24655]him or to any human being who walks upright upon this oblate orange? (He
[24656]points his finger.) I’m not afraid of what I can talk to if I see his
[24657]eye. Retaining the perpendicular.
[24658]
[24659](He staggers a pace back.)
[24660]
[24661]BLOOM: (Propping him.) Retain your own.
[24662]
[24663]STEPHEN: (Laughs emptily.) My centre of gravity is displaced. I have
[24664]forgotten the trick. Let us sit down somewhere and discuss. Struggle
[24665]for life is the law of existence but but human philirenists, notably the
[24666]tsar and the king of England, have invented arbitration. (He taps his
[24667]brow.) But in here it is I must kill the priest and the king.
[24668]
[24669]BIDDY THE CLAP: Did you hear what the professor said? He’s a professor
[24670]out of the college.
[24671]
[24672]CUNTY KATE: I did. I heard that.
[24673]
[24674]BIDDY THE CLAP: He expresses himself with such marked refinement of
[24675]phraseology.
[24676]
[24677]CUNTY KATE: Indeed, yes. And at the same time with such apposite
[24678]trenchancy.
[24679]
[24680]PRIVATE CARR: (Pulls himself free and comes forward.) What’s that
[24681]you’re saying about my king?
[24682]
[24683](Edward the Seventh appears in an archway. He wears a white jersey on
[24684]which an image of the Sacred Heart is stitched with the insignia of
[24685]Garter and Thistle, Golden Fleece, Elephant of Denmark, Skinner’s and
[24686]Probyn’s horse, Lincoln’s Inn bencher and ancient and honourable
[24687]artillery company of Massachusetts. He sucks a red jujube. He is robed
[24688]as a grand elect perfect and sublime mason with trowel and apron, marked
[24689]made in Germany. In his left hand he holds a plasterer’s bucket on
[24690]which is printed Défense d’uriner. A roar of welcome greets him.)
[24691]
[24692]EDWARD THE SEVENTH: (Slowly, solemnly but indistinctly.) Peace, perfect
[24693]peace. For identification, bucket in my hand. Cheerio, boys. (He turns
[24694]to his subjects.) We have come here to witness a clean straight fight
[24695]and we heartily wish both men the best of good luck. Mahak makar a bak.
[24696]
[24697](He shakes hands with Private Carr, Private Compton, Stephen, Bloom and
[24698]Lynch. General applause. Edward the Seventh lifts his bucket graciously
[24699]in acknowledgment.)
[24700]
[24701]PRIVATE CARR: (To Stephen.) Say it again.
[24702]
[24703]STEPHEN: (Nervous, friendly, pulls himself up.) I understand your point
[24704]of view though I have no king myself for the moment. This is the age of
[24705]patent medicines. A discussion is difficult down here. But this is the
[24706]point. You die for your country. Suppose. (He places his arm on Private
[24707]Carr’s sleeve.) Not that I wish it for you. But I say: Let my country
[24708]die for me. Up to the present it has done so. I didn’t want it to die.
[24709]Damn death. Long live life!
[24710]
[24711]EDWARD THE SEVENTH: (Levitates over heaps of slain, in the garb and with
[24712]the halo of Joking Jesus, a white jujube in his phosphorescent face.)
[24713]
[24714] My methods are new and are causing surprise.
[24715] To make the blind see I throw dust in their eyes.
[24716]STEPHEN: Kings and unicorns! (He falls back a pace.) Come somewhere and
[24717]we’ll... What was that girl saying?...
[24718]
[24719]PRIVATE COMPTON: Eh, Harry, give him a kick in the knackers. Stick one
[24720]into Jerry.
[24721]
[24722]BLOOM: (To the privates, softly.) He doesn’t know what he’s saying.
[24723]Taken a little more than is good for him. Absinthe. Greeneyed monster. I
[24724]know him. He’s a gentleman, a poet. It’s all right.
[24725]
[24726]STEPHEN: (Nods, smiling and laughing.) Gentleman, patriot, scholar and
[24727]judge of impostors.
[24728]
[24729]PRIVATE CARR: I don’t give a bugger who he is.
[24730]
[24731]PRIVATE COMPTON: We don’t give a bugger who he is.
[24732]
[24733]STEPHEN: I seem to annoy them. Green rag to a bull.
[24734]
[24735](Kevin Egan of Paris in black Spanish tasselled shirt and peep-o’-day
[24736]boy’s hat signs to Stephen.)
[24737]
[24738]KEVIN EGAN: H’lo! Bonjour! The vieille ogresse with the dents jaunes.
[24739]
[24740](Patrice Egan peeps from behind, his rabbitface nibbling a quince leaf.)
[24741]
[24742]PATRICE: Socialiste!
[24743]
[24744]DON EMILE PATRIZIO FRANZ RUPERT POPE HENNESSY: (In medieval hauberk, two
[24745]wild geese volant on his helm, with noble indignation points a mailed
[24746]hand against the privates.) Werf those eykes to footboden, big grand
[24747]porcos of johnyellows todos covered of gravy!
[24748]
[24749]BLOOM: (To Stephen.) Come home. You’ll get into trouble.
[24750]
[24751]STEPHEN: (Swaying.) I don’t avoid it. He provokes my intelligence.
[24752]
[24753]BIDDY THE CLAP: One immediately observes that he is of patrician
[24754]lineage.
[24755]
[24756]THE VIRAGO: Green above the red, says he. Wolfe Tone.
[24757]
[24758]THE BAWD: The red’s as good as the green. And better. Up the soldiers!
[24759]Up King Edward!
[24760]
[24761]A ROUGH: (Laughs.) Ay! Hands up to De Wet.
[24762]
[24763]THE CITIZEN: (With a huge emerald muffler and shillelagh, calls.)
[24764]
[24765] May the God above
[24766] Send down a dove
[24767] With teeth as sharp as razors
[24768] To slit the throats
[24769] Of the English dogs
[24770] That hanged our Irish leaders.
[24771]THE CROPPY BOY: (The ropenoose round his neck, gripes in his issuing
[24772]bowels with both hands.)
[24773]
[24774] I bear no hate to a living thing,
[24775] But I love my country beyond the king.
[24776]RUMBOLD, DEMON BARBER: (Accompanied by two blackmasked assistants,
[24777]advances with gladstone bag which he opens.) Ladies and gents,
[24778]cleaver purchased by Mrs Pearcy to slay Mogg. Knife with which Voisin
[24779]dismembered the wife of a compatriot and hid remains in a sheet in the
[24780]cellar, the unfortunate female’s throat being cut from ear to ear.
[24781]Phial containing arsenic retrieved from body of Miss Barron which sent
[24782]Seddon to the gallows.
[24783]
[24784](He jerks the rope. The assistants leap at the victim’s legs and drag
[24785]him downward, grunting: the croppy boy’s tongue protrudes violently.)
[24786]
[24787]THE CROPPY BOY:
[24788]
[24789] Horhot ho hray hor hother’s hest.
[24790](He gives up the ghost. A violent erection of the hanged sends gouts
[24791]of sperm spouting through his deathclothes on to the cobblestones. Mrs
[24792]Bellingham, Mrs Yelverton Barry and the Honourable Mrs Mervyn Talboys
[24793]rush forward with their handkerchiefs to sop it up.)
[24794]
[24795]RUMBOLD: I’m near it myself. (He undoes the noose.) Rope which hanged
[24796]the awful rebel. Ten shillings a time. As applied to Her Royal Highness.
[24797](He plunges his head into the gaping belly of the hanged and draws out
[24798]his head again clotted with coiled and smoking entrails.) My painful
[24799]duty has now been done. God save the king!
[24800]
[24801]EDWARD THE SEVENTH: (Dances slowly, solemnly, rattling his bucket, and
[24802]sings with soft contentment.)
[24803]
[24804] On coronation day, on coronation day,
[24805] O, won’t we have a merry time,
[24806] Drinking whisky, beer and wine!
[24807]PRIVATE CARR: Here. What are you saying about my king?
[24808]
[24809]STEPHEN: (Throws up his hands.) O, this is too monotonous! Nothing. He
[24810]wants my money and my life, though want must be his master, for some
[24811]brutish empire of his. Money I haven’t. (He searches his pockets
[24812]vaguely.) Gave it to someone.
[24813]
[24814]PRIVATE CARR: Who wants your bleeding money?
[24815]
[24816]STEPHEN: (Tries to move off.) Will someone tell me where I am least
[24817]likely to meet these necessary evils? Ça se voit aussi à Paris. Not
[24818]that I... But, by Saint Patrick...!
[24819]
[24820](The women’s heads coalesce. Old Gummy Granny in sugarloaf hat appears
[24821]seated on a toadstool, the deathflower of the potato blight on her
[24822]breast.)
[24823]
[24824]STEPHEN: Aha! I know you, gammer! Hamlet, revenge! The old sow that eats
[24825]her farrow!
[24826]
[24827]OLD GUMMY GRANNY: (Rocking to and fro.) Ireland’s sweetheart, the king
[24828]of Spain’s daughter, alanna. Strangers in my house, bad manners to
[24829]them! (She keens with banshee woe.) Ochone! Ochone! Silk of the kine!
[24830](She wails.) You met with poor old Ireland and how does she stand?
[24831]
[24832]STEPHEN: How do I stand you? The hat trick! Where’s the third person
[24833]of the Blessed Trinity? Soggarth Aroon? The reverend Carrion Crow.
[24834]
[24835]CISSY CAFFREY: (Shrill.) Stop them from fighting!
[24836]
[24837]A ROUGH: Our men retreated.
[24838]
[24839]PRIVATE CARR: (Tugging at his belt.) I’ll wring the neck of any fucker
[24840]says a word against my fucking king.
[24841]
[24842]BLOOM: (Terrified.) He said nothing. Not a word. A pure
[24843]misunderstanding.
[24844]
[24845]THE CITIZEN: Erin go bragh!
[24846]
[24847](Major Tweedy and the Citizen exhibit to each other medals, decorations,
[24848]trophies of war, wounds. Both salute with fierce hostility.)
[24849]
[24850]PRIVATE COMPTON: Go it, Harry. Do him one in the eye. He’s a proboer.
[24851]
[24852]STEPHEN: Did I? When?
[24853]
[24854]BLOOM: (To the redcoats.) We fought for you in South Africa, Irish
[24855]missile troops. Isn’t that history? Royal Dublin Fusiliers. Honoured
[24856]by our monarch.
[24857]
[24858]THE NAVVY: (Staggering past.) O, yes! O God, yes! O, make the kwawr a
[24859]krowawr! O! Bo!
[24860]
[24861](Casqued halberdiers in armour thrust forward a pentice of gutted
[24862]spearpoints. Major Tweedy, moustached like Turko the terrible, in
[24863]bearskin cap with hackleplume and accoutrements, with epaulettes, gilt
[24864]chevrons and sabretaches, his breast bright with medals, toes the line.
[24865]He gives the pilgrim warrior’s sign of the knights templars.)
[24866]
[24867]MAJOR TWEEDY: (Growls gruffly.) Rorke’s Drift! Up, guards, and at
[24868]them! Mahar shalal hashbaz.
[24869]
[24870]PRIVATE CARR: I’ll do him in.
[24871]
[24872]PRIVATE COMPTON: (Waves the crowd back.) Fair play, here. Make a
[24873]bleeding butcher’s shop of the bugger.
[24874]
[24875](Massed bands blare Garryowen and God save the King.)
[24876]
[24877]CISSY CAFFREY: They’re going to fight. For me!
[24878]
[24879]CUNTY KATE: The brave and the fair.
[24880]
[24881]BIDDY THE CLAP: Methinks yon sable knight will joust it with the best.
[24882]
[24883]CUNTY KATE: (Blushing deeply.) Nay, madam. The gules doublet and merry
[24884]saint George for me!
[24885]
[24886]STEPHEN:
[24887]
[24888] The harlot’s cry from street to street
[24889] Shall weave Old Ireland’s windingsheet.
[24890]PRIVATE CARR: (Loosening his belt, shouts.) I’ll wring the neck of any
[24891]fucking bastard says a word against my bleeding fucking king.
[24892]
[24893]BLOOM: (Shakes Cissy Caffrey’s shoulders.) Speak, you! Are you struck
[24894]dumb? You are the link between nations and generations. Speak, woman,
[24895]sacred lifegiver!
[24896]
[24897]CISSY CAFFREY: (Alarmed, seizes Private Carr’s sleeve.) Amn’t I with
[24898]you? Amn’t I your girl? Cissy’s your girl. (She cries.) Police!
[24899]
[24900]STEPHEN: (Ecstatically, to Cissy Caffrey.)
[24901]
[24902] White thy fambles, red thy gan
[24903] And thy quarrons dainty is.
[24904]VOICES: Police!
[24905]
[24906]DISTANT VOICES: Dublin’s burning! Dublin’s burning! On fire, on
[24907]fire!
[24908]
[24909](Brimstone fires spring up. Dense clouds roll past. Heavy Gatling guns
[24910]boom. Pandemonium. Troops deploy. Gallop of hoofs. Artillery. Hoarse
[24911]commands. Bells clang. Backers shout. Drunkards bawl. Whores screech.
[24912]Foghorns hoot. Cries of valour. Shrieks of dying. Pikes clash on
[24913]cuirasses. Thieves rob the slain. Birds of prey, winging from the sea,
[24914]rising from marshlands, swooping from eyries, hover screaming, gannets,
[24915]cormorants, vultures, goshawks, climbing woodcocks, peregrines, merlins,
[24916]blackgrouse, sea eagles, gulls, albatrosses, barnacle geese. The
[24917]midnight sun is darkened. The earth trembles. The dead of Dublin
[24918]from Prospect and Mount Jerome in white sheepskin overcoats and black
[24919]goatfell cloaks arise and appear to many. A chasm opens with a noiseless
[24920]yawn. Tom Rochford, winner, in athlete’s singlet and breeches, arrives
[24921]at the head of the national hurdle handicap and leaps into the void.
[24922]He is followed by a race of runners and leapers. In wild attitudes they
[24923]spring from the brink. Their bodies plunge. Factory lasses with fancy
[24924]clothes toss redhot Yorkshire baraabombs. Society ladies lift their
[24925]skirts above their heads to protect themselves. Laughing witches in red
[24926]cutty sarks ride through the air on broomsticks. Quakerlyster plasters
[24927]blisters. It rains dragons’ teeth. Armed heroes spring up from
[24928]furrows. They exchange in amity the pass of knights of the red cross and
[24929]fight duels with cavalry sabres: Wolfe Tone against Henry Grattan, Smith
[24930]O’Brien against Daniel O’Connell, Michael Davitt against Isaac Butt,
[24931]Justin M’Carthy against Parnell, Arthur Griffith against John Redmond,
[24932]John O’Leary against Lear O’Johnny, Lord Edward Fitzgerald against
[24933]Lord Gerald Fitzedward, The O’Donoghue of the Glens against The Glens
[24934]of The O’Donoghue. On an eminence, the centre of the earth, rises
[24935]the fieldaltar of Saint Barbara. Black candles rise from its gospel and
[24936]epistle horns. From the high barbacans of the tower two shafts of light
[24937]fall on the smokepalled altarstone. On the altarstone Mrs Mina Purefoy,
[24938]goddess of unreason, lies, naked, fettered, a chalice resting on her
[24939]swollen belly. Father Malachi O’Flynn in a lace petticoat and reversed
[24940]chasuble, his two left feet back to the front, celebrates camp mass. The
[24941]Reverend Mr Hugh C Haines Love M. A. in a plain cassock and mortarboard,
[24942]his head and collar back to the front, holds over the celebrant’s head
[24943]an open umbrella.)
[24944]
[24945]FATHER MALACHI O’FLYNN: Introibo ad altare diaboli.
[24946]
[24947]THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE: To the devil which hath made glad my young
[24948]days.
[24949]
[24950]FATHER MALACHI O’FLYNN: (Takes from the chalice and elevates a
[24951]blooddripping host.) Corpus meum.
[24952]
[24953]THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE: (Raises high behind the celebrant’s
[24954]petticoat, revealing his grey bare hairy buttocks between which a carrot
[24955]is stuck.) My body.
[24956]
[24957]THE VOICE OF ALL THE DAMNED: Htengier Tnetopinmo Dog Drol eht rof,
[24958]Aiulella!
[24959]
[24960](From on high the voice of Adonai calls.)
[24961]
[24962]ADONAI: Dooooooooooog!
[24963]
[24964]THE VOICE OF ALL THE BLESSED: Alleluia, for the Lord God Omnipotent
[24965]reigneth!
[24966]
[24967](From on high the voice of Adonai calls.)
[24968]
[24969]ADONAI: Goooooooooood!
[24970]
[24971](In strident discord peasants and townsmen of Orange and Green factions
[24972]sing Kick the Pope and Daily, daily sing to Mary.)
[24973]
[24974]PRIVATE CARR: (With ferocious articulation.) I’ll do him in, so help
[24975]me fucking Christ! I’ll wring the bastard fucker’s bleeding blasted
[24976]fucking windpipe!
[24977]
[24978](The retriever, nosing on the fringe of the crowd, barks noisily.)
[24979]
[24980]OLD GUMMY GRANNY: (Thrusts a dagger towards Stephen’s hand.) Remove
[24981]him, acushla. At 8.35 a.m. you will be in heaven and Ireland will be
[24982]free. (She prays.) O good God, take him!
[24983]
[24984]BLOOM: (Runs to Lynch.) Can’t you get him away?
[24985]
[24986]LYNCH: He likes dialectic, the universal language. Kitty! (To Bloom.)
[24987]Get him away, you. He won’t listen to me.
[24988]
[24989](He drags Kitty away.)
[24990]
[24991]STEPHEN: (Points.) Exit Judas. Et laqueo se suspendit.
[24992]
[24993]BLOOM: (Runs to Stephen.) Come along with me now before worse happens.
[24994]Here’s your stick.
[24995]
[24996]STEPHEN: Stick, no. Reason. This feast of pure reason.
[24997]
[24998]CISSY CAFFREY: (Pulling Private Carr.) Come on, you’re boosed. He
[24999]insulted me but I forgive him. (Shouting in his ear.) I forgive him for
[25000]insulting me.
[25001]
[25002]BLOOM: (Over Stephen’s shoulder.) Yes, go. You see he’s incapable.
[25003]
[25004]PRIVATE CARR: (Breaks loose.) I’ll insult him.
[25005]
[25006](He rushes towards Stephen, fist outstretched, and strikes him in the
[25007]face. Stephen totters, collapses, falls, stunned. He lies prone, his
[25008]face to the sky, his hat rolling to the wall. Bloom follows and picks it
[25009]up.)
[25010]
[25011]MAJOR TWEEDY: (Loudly.) Carbine in bucket! Cease fire! Salute!
[25012]
[25013]THE RETRIEVER: (Barking furiously.) Ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute.
[25014]
[25015]THE CROWD: Let him up! Don’t strike him when he’s down! Air! Who?
[25016]The soldier hit him. He’s a professor. Is he hurted? Don’t manhandle
[25017]him! He’s fainted!
[25018]
[25019]A HAG: What call had the redcoat to strike the gentleman and he under
[25020]the influence. Let them go and fight the Boers!
[25021]
[25022]THE BAWD: Listen to who’s talking! Hasn’t the soldier a right to go
[25023]with his girl? He gave him the coward’s blow.
[25024]
[25025](They grab at each other’s hair, claw at each other and spit.)
[25026]
[25027]THE RETRIEVER: (Barking.) Wow wow wow.
[25028]
[25029]BLOOM: (Shoves them back, loudly.) Get back, stand back!
[25030]
[25031]PRIVATE COMPTON: (Tugging his comrade.) Here. Bugger off, Harry.
[25032]Here’s the cops! (Two raincaped watch, tall, stand in the group.)
[25033]
[25034]FIRST WATCH: What’s wrong here?
[25035]
[25036]PRIVATE COMPTON: We were with this lady. And he insulted us. And
[25037]assaulted my chum. (The retriever barks.) Who owns the bleeding tyke?
[25038]
[25039]CISSY CAFFREY: (With expectation.) Is he bleeding!
[25040]
[25041]A MAN: (Rising from his knees.) No. Gone off. He’ll come to all right.
[25042]
[25043]BLOOM: (Glances sharply at the man.) Leave him to me. I can easily...
[25044]
[25045]SECOND WATCH: Who are you? Do you know him?
[25046]
[25047]PRIVATE CARR: (Lurches towards the watch.) He insulted my lady friend.
[25048]
[25049]BLOOM: (Angrily.) You hit him without provocation. I’m a witness.
[25050]Constable, take his regimental number.
[25051]
[25052]SECOND WATCH: I don’t want your instructions in the discharge of my
[25053]duty.
[25054]
[25055]PRIVATE COMPTON: (Pulling his comrade.) Here, bugger off Harry. Or
[25056]Bennett’ll shove you in the lockup.
[25057]
[25058]PRIVATE CARR: (Staggering as he is pulled away.) God fuck old Bennett.
[25059]He’s a whitearsed bugger. I don’t give a shit for him.
[25060]
[25061]FIRST WATCH: (Takes out his notebook.) What’s his name?
[25062]
[25063]BLOOM: (Peering over the crowd.) I just see a car there. If you give me
[25064]a hand a second, sergeant...
[25065]
[25066]FIRST WATCH: Name and address.
[25067]
[25068](Corny Kelleher, weepers round his hat, a death wreath in his hand,
[25069]appears among the bystanders.)
[25070]
[25071]BLOOM: (Quickly.) O, the very man! (He whispers.) Simon Dedalus’ son.
[25072]A bit sprung. Get those policemen to move those loafers back.
[25073]
[25074]SECOND WATCH: Night, Mr Kelleher.
[25075]
[25076]CORNY KELLEHER: (To the watch, with drawling eye.) That’s all right.
[25077]I know him. Won a bit on the races. Gold cup. Throwaway. (He laughs.)
[25078]Twenty to one. Do you follow me?
[25079]
[25080]FIRST WATCH: (Turns to the crowd.) Here, what are you all gaping at?
[25081]Move on out of that.
[25082]
[25083](The crowd disperses slowly, muttering, down the lane.)
[25084]
[25085]CORNY KELLEHER: Leave it to me, sergeant. That’ll be all right. (He
[25086]laughs, shaking his head.) We were often as bad ourselves, ay or worse.
[25087]What? Eh, what?
[25088]
[25089]FIRST WATCH: (Laughs.) I suppose so.
[25090]
[25091]CORNY KELLEHER: (Nudges the second watch.) Come and wipe your name off
[25092]the slate. (He lilts, wagging his head.) With my tooraloom tooraloom
[25093]tooraloom tooraloom. What, eh, do you follow me?
[25094]
[25095]SECOND WATCH: (Genially.) Ah, sure we were too.
[25096]
[25097]CORNY KELLEHER: (Winking.) Boys will be boys. I’ve a car round there.
[25098]
[25099]SECOND WATCH: All right, Mr Kelleher. Good night.
[25100]
[25101]CORNY KELLEHER: I’ll see to that.
[25102]
[25103]BLOOM: (Shakes hands with both of the watch in turn.) Thank you very
[25104]much, gentlemen. Thank you. (He mumbles confidentially.) We don’t
[25105]want any scandal, you understand. Father is a wellknown highly respected
[25106]citizen. Just a little wild oats, you understand.
[25107]
[25108]FIRST WATCH: O. I understand, sir.
[25109]
[25110]SECOND WATCH: That’s all right, sir.
[25111]
[25112]FIRST WATCH: It was only in case of corporal injuries I’d have to
[25113]report it at the station.
[25114]
[25115]BLOOM: (Nods rapidly.) Naturally. Quite right. Only your bounden duty.
[25116]
[25117]SECOND WATCH: It’s our duty.
[25118]
[25119]CORNY KELLEHER: Good night, men.
[25120]
[25121]THE WATCH: (Saluting together.) Night, gentlemen. (They move off with
[25122]slow heavy tread.)
[25123]
[25124]BLOOM: (Blows.) Providential you came on the scene. You have a car?...
[25125]
[25126]CORNY KELLEHER: (Laughs, pointing his thumb over his right shoulder to
[25127]the car brought up against the scaffolding.) Two commercials that were
[25128]standing fizz in Jammet’s. Like princes, faith. One of them lost two
[25129]quid on the race. Drowning his grief. And were on for a go with the
[25130]jolly girls. So I landed them up on Behan’s car and down to nighttown.
[25131]
[25132]BLOOM: I was just going home by Gardiner street when I happened to...
[25133]
[25134]CORNY KELLEHER: (Laughs.) Sure they wanted me to join in with the mots.
[25135]No, by God, says I. Not for old stagers like myself and yourself. (He
[25136]laughs again and leers with lacklustre eye.) Thanks be to God we have it
[25137]in the house, what, eh, do you follow me? Hah, hah, hah!
[25138]
[25139]BLOOM: (Tries to laugh.) He, he, he! Yes. Matter of fact I was just
[25140]visiting an old friend of mine there, Virag, you don’t know him (poor
[25141]fellow, he’s laid up for the past week) and we had a liquor together
[25142]and I was just making my way home...
[25143]
[25144](The horse neighs.)
[25145]
[25146]THE HORSE: Hohohohohohoh! Hohohohome!
[25147]
[25148]CORNY KELLEHER: Sure it was Behan our jarvey there that told me after we
[25149]left the two commercials in Mrs Cohen’s and I told him to pull up and
[25150]got off to see. (He laughs.) Sober hearsedrivers a speciality. Will I
[25151]give him a lift home? Where does he hang out? Somewhere in Cabra, what?
[25152]
[25153]BLOOM: No, in Sandycove, I believe, from what he let drop.
[25154]
[25155](Stephen, prone, breathes to the stars. Corny Kelleher, asquint, drawls
[25156]at the horse. Bloom, in gloom, looms down.)
[25157]
[25158]CORNY KELLEHER: (Scratches his nape.) Sandycove! (He bends down and
[25159]calls to Stephen.) Eh! (He calls again.) Eh! He’s covered with
[25160]shavings anyhow. Take care they didn’t lift anything off him.
[25161]
[25162]BLOOM: No, no, no. I have his money and his hat here and stick.
[25163]
[25164]CORNY KELLEHER: Ah, well, he’ll get over it. No bones broken. Well,
[25165]I’ll shove along. (He laughs.) I’ve a rendezvous in the morning.
[25166]Burying the dead. Safe home!
[25167]
[25168]THE HORSE: (Neighs.) Hohohohohome.
[25169]
[25170]BLOOM: Good night. I’ll just wait and take him along in a few...
[25171]
[25172](Corny Kelleher returns to the outside car and mounts it. The horse
[25173]harness jingles.)
[25174]
[25175]CORNY KELLEHER: (From the car, standing.) Night.
[25176]
[25177]BLOOM: Night.
[25178]
[25179](The jarvey chucks the reins and raises his whip encouragingly. The
[25180]car and horse back slowly, awkwardly, and turn. Corny Kelleher on the
[25181]sideseat sways his head to and fro in sign of mirth at Bloom’s plight.
[25182]The jarvey joins in the mute pantomimic merriment nodding from the
[25183]farther seat. Bloom shakes his head in mute mirthful reply. With thumb
[25184]and palm Corny Kelleher reassures that the two bobbies will allow the
[25185]sleep to continue for what else is to be done. With a slow nod Bloom
[25186]conveys his gratitude as that is exactly what Stephen needs. The car
[25187]jingles tooraloom round the corner of the tooraloom lane. Corny Kelleher
[25188]again reassuralooms with his hand. Bloom with his hand assuralooms Corny
[25189]Kelleher that he is reassuraloomtay. The tinkling hoofs and jingling
[25190]harness grow fainter with their tooralooloo looloo lay. Bloom, holding
[25191]in his hand Stephen’s hat, festooned with shavings, and ashplant,
[25192]stands irresolute. Then he bends to him and shakes him by the shoulder.)
[25193]
[25194]BLOOM: Eh! Ho! (There is no answer; he bends again.) Mr Dedalus! (There
[25195]is no answer.) The name if you call. Somnambulist. (He bends again
[25196]and, hesitating, brings his mouth near the face of the prostrate form.)
[25197]Stephen! (There is no answer. He calls again.) Stephen!
[25198]
[25199]STEPHEN: (Groans.) Who? Black panther. Vampire. (He sighs and stretches
[25200]himself, then murmurs thickly with prolonged vowels.)
[25201]
[25202] Who... drive... Fergus now
[25203] And pierce... wood’s woven shade?...
[25204](He turns on his left side, sighing, doubling himself together.)
[25205]
[25206]BLOOM: Poetry. Well educated. Pity. (He bends again and undoes
[25207]the buttons of Stephen’s waistcoat.) To breathe. (He brushes the
[25208]woodshavings from Stephen’s clothes with light hand and fingers.) One
[25209]pound seven. Not hurt anyhow. (He listens.) What?
[25210]
[25211]STEPHEN: (Murmurs.)
[25212]
[25213] ... shadows... the woods
[25214] ... white breast... dim sea.
[25215](He stretches out his arms, sighs again and curls his body. Bloom,
[25216]holding the hat and ashplant, stands erect. A dog barks in the distance.
[25217]Bloom tightens and loosens his grip on the ashplant. He looks down on
[25218]Stephen’s face and form.)
[25219]
[25220]BLOOM: (Communes with the night.) Face reminds me of his poor mother.
[25221]In the shady wood. The deep white breast. Ferguson, I think I caught.
[25222]A girl. Some girl. Best thing could happen him. (He murmurs.)... swear
[25223]that I will always hail, ever conceal, never reveal, any part or parts,
[25224]art or arts... (He murmurs.)... in the rough sands of the sea... a
[25225]cabletow’s length from the shore... where the tide ebbs... and flows
[25226]...
[25227]
[25228](Silent, thoughtful, alert he stands on guard, his fingers at his lips
[25229]in the attitude of secret master. Against the dark wall a figure appears
[25230]slowly, a fairy boy of eleven, a changeling, kidnapped, dressed in an
[25231]Eton suit with glass shoes and a little bronze helmet, holding a book
[25232]in his hand. He reads from right to left inaudibly, smiling, kissing the
[25233]page.)
[25234]
[25235]BLOOM: (Wonderstruck, calls inaudibly.) Rudy!
[25236]
[25237]RUDY: (Gazes, unseeing, into Bloom’s eyes and goes on reading,
[25238]kissing, smiling. He has a delicate mauve face. On his suit he has
[25239]diamond and ruby buttons. In his free left hand he holds a slim ivory
[25240]cane with a violet bowknot. A white lambkin peeps out of his waistcoat
[25241]pocket.)
[25242]
[25243]
[25244]
[25245]
[25246]
[25247]
[25248]— III —
[25249]
[25250]
[25251]
[25252]
[25253]
[25254]