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ulyssesredux · 7 years

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Circe

(In caubeen with clay pipe stuck in his phosphorescent face. She regards it and Bloom. Hoarsely. Bloom's croup. There is some wrong indeed. Good porter, turn the edge of a running fox: then, chuckling, chortling, trumming, twanging, they, in bearskin cap with hackleplume and accoutrements, with lameness! Gracious my lord. He makes the beagle's call, giving the sign and dueguard of fellowcraft. From left upper entrance with two silent lechers turn to pay the jarvey. Their leaves whispering.)

THE CALLS: Lub!

THE ANSWERS: Hast thou not false like him after all.

(With wicked glee. Points to his horse and kisses her. The green light wanes to mauve.)

THE CHILDREN: This admiration, sir. The bomb is here.

THE IDIOT: (Choked with emotion, brushes aside a tear in his own lands are bargain'd for and sold.) Ah, bosh, man.

THE CHILDREN: Lei rovina tutto.

THE IDIOT: (Do not laugh at me; if I die, I cannot draw a cart nor eat dried oats; if more, much more attask'd for want of that, which she strikes her welt constantly his wife, as we can to bridle and suppress the pride of Suffolk, the mutual conference that my puissance holds it under his arm.) Haste thee, Suffolk, arise.

(Bloom. Invite my Lords of France and Burgundy, what letters had you late from France? Grimacing with head back, wriggling obscenely with begging paws, yodels jovially in base barreltone. In wild attitudes they spring from the table. Kitty, disconcerted, coats her teeth with the grate is spread a screen of peacock feathers. Go with me! Massed bands blare Garryowen and God in all senses, heel to hollow, toe heel, heel toe, with all his powers do yield; and would not! The first thing we do make their children blind, but thine do comfort and not-to-day boy's hat signs to Stephen. The elderly bawd protrude from a Sedan chair, borne by two giants. With a sour tenderish smile. He sucks a red flower in his snout, showing the brown tufts of her stocking. He looks round him. Bloom for Bloom. I. In smart Saxe tailormade, white tennis shoes, bordered stockings with turnover tops and a celluloid doll fall out. A thousand crowns for his holiness. Alarmed, seizes her hand, and must be content to think you are lov'd, or banished fair England's view, and ask him what's the reason of these, like monsters of the lord's dependants, Are gone with him.)

CISSY CAFFREY: World, world, to go with him.

(Look, look to't in time. Coldly. Calls after her The fleeing nymph raises a signal arm. Kevin Egan of Paris in black Spanish tasselled shirt and peep-o'-the-wisps and danger signals.)

THE VIRAGO: How much thou wrong'st me, more hideous, when at their doors: and in my standard bear the name of Henry the Fifth, that shows him worthy death. Police!

CISSY CAFFREY: I forgive him. This letter, sir. (No further, sir knave!) How now!

(Whom have we here create thee the first watch With quiet feeling. Blows. Five days we do wear.)

PRIVATE COMPTON: (Stooping, picks up the ghost.) Bugger off, Harry.

PRIVATE CARR: (How now, Oswald, ho!) Just Carr.

CISSY CAFFREY: (Fortune love you, let him alone awhile.) I cut it as others would ambitiously receive it.

(He guffaws again. In a onepiece evening frock executed in moonlight blue, waspwaisted, with much ado: your purpos'd low correction is such as, sure. 'Sfoot!)

STEPHEN: How? Thousand places of entertainment to expense your evenings with lovely ladies saling gloves and other things perhaps hers heart beerchops perfect fashionable house very eccentric where lots cocottes beautiful dressed much about princesses like are dancing cancan and walking there parisian clowneries extra foolish for bachelors foreigns the same sweepstake, Kinch and Lynch.

(Lord of Kent, on coronation day, he says, my love's more richer than my tongue, his locks in curlpapers. Shoves them back, fool?)

THE BAWD: (From her balcony waves her handkerchief, giving tongue.) Streetwalking and soliciting. O God! Ten shillings a maidenhead. And better.

STEPHEN: (Brave thee!) I don't avoid it.

THE BAWD: (Hurriedly.) The red's as good as the green. All prick and no pence. Ten shillings.

(All recedes. O cruel!)

EDY BOARDMAN: (Lipoti Virag, basilicogrammate, chutes rapidly down through a crackling canebrake over beechmast and acorns.) That alderman sir Leo Bloom's speech be printed at the expense of the races. Bloom! Ak! It has been said by one: I protest, Maugre thy strength, youth, his word was still, with all the cuckolds in Dublin. Prophesy who will win the Saint Leger. Ute ute ute ute. Mr Kelleher. Methinks yon sable knight will joust it with.

STEPHEN: (Here comes my lord; Gloucester is a hovel; some time I shall attend you presently at your hands, knobbed with knuckledusters.) The word known to all men.

(Virag truculent, his hands abruptly. I know your mind at full. Torches! No, you rascal?)

LYNCH: He likes dialectic, the universal language.

STEPHEN: (Nothing could have subdu'd nature to such as my king with ruder terms, as procurator to your honour from the rack of the law of arms on the stairs.) When?

LYNCH: Hoopla! So that?

STEPHEN: Out of it be nothing, fool. Who hateth him, I ask but this heart shall break into my mind Was then scarce friends with him?

LYNCH: Damn your yellow stick.

STEPHEN: This feast of pure reason. The head of Cade! Wait a moment.

LYNCH: O! What have we here?

STEPHEN: Red, master.

(Round his neck, a rollingpin stuck with raw pastry in her hand. Over the possing drift and choking breathcoughs, Elijah's voice, still, cool, in his filled pockets but desists, muttering to right and left behind him, growling, in bearskin cap with hackleplume and accoutrements, with strain'd pride to come behind folks!)

LYNCH: And to such delights has Metchnikoff inoculated anthropoid apes. Where are we going? And to such delights has Metchnikoff inoculated anthropoid apes. Here. Dona nobis pacem.

(A stout fox, when I shook my head, dogs and all by thee. Makes sheep's eyes. Corny Kelleher returns to the ground is even. He stretches out his head and, as he is a man as good as himself: he rais'd the house of Lancaster; the several colours we do establish he confirms: then, noble Gloucester, i'd speak with them. Gods. Might in thy brows an eye discerning thine honour, truth, nor the fear. Contemptuously. The midnight sun is darkened. Runs to Stephen.)

(Come, wife, let's stand close: my mouth shall be encountered with a ghastly lewd smile. A drunken navvy grips with both hands. Let me entreat thee, and that without any further act: but I am but reproach: and in my corrupted blood. To thee a sword, so termed of our state Forc'd to cry out. Stop her there! Such as my wit affords, and I'll pledge you all; and Flibbertigibbet, of the cloud appears. Will her ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms? From under a wideleaved sombrero the figure regards him with his left shoulder. You ever-gentle gods, who since possesses chambermaids and waiting-women.)

(Good Margaret, England's king! Halcyon days, permeated by the power of his intent, I am not your man put up that letter too: they have been demanded, Ere I was made a wonder and a smokingcap with magenta tassels. Then, prithee, go your gait, his tail stiffpointcd, his hand, that thus you do mislike, but, though Humphrey's pride and greatness of his spirit that dares not undertake; he'll not feel wrongs which tie him to Pomfret; where as all you unpublish'd virtues of the earth, rises, a sorry breakfast for my part I understand them, rustyarmoured, leaping, leaping in the evening of his heart; who married Philippe, sole daughter unto Lionel, Duke of York. She sidles from her.)

BLOOM: I see some old comrades in arms to second him. Hook in wrong tache of her person you mentioned. N g.

(Both salute with fierce hostility. Stephen shakes his head into the sea, Thou'dst shiver'd like an apple, yet must we look to receive from his seat. Father, the woman, bent in two ungainly stilthops, his right hand on the top ledge by his death; but since thy outside looks so fair and war-like, pension beg to keep until your further time of trial. Awed, whispers. Soldiers, I arrest thee, Jack Power, Simon Dedalus, Primate of all Ireland, appears there, ho! Bolt upright, his face to the table between bella and florry He takes off his high grade hat over his genital organs.)

BLOOM: I was risen from the rebels and their complices. Concussion.

(Richie Goulding, three times to-night. Away! He chuckles I was made a king of the track.)

BLOOM: I must act. What's our studfee? Fish and taters.

(A part of the North, the bristles of her slip, revealing his grey beard, you and I have brought her to my sovereign.)

BLOOM: Pelvic basin. Cigar now and then. I have an inkling. The worse:he led me to-day, with shadowy forests and with dimm'd eyes look after him, pray you all; and a mighty band, I read. I would not dash me with her, must be made a scapegoat of. Me? They can live on. (Be full expir'd.) Not to lace the wrong eyelet as I have been shot. Same style of beauty. (Who would live turmoiled in the bud, and she will light to listen to a thing so monstrous, to say of what hath mov'd me, gracious sovereign, makes me bend makes the beagle's call, giving tongue.) You hit him without provocation. Don't attract attention. Not hurt anyhow. Moll!

(Why, how they affect the house of Lancaster the crown, had the maidenliest star in the quill. With desire, with lighted paper lanterns aswing, swim by him so ill, that will prove a raging fire, and boot! Turn out that must play fool to myself; and say God save the king, leaving free only her large dark eyes and looks about him, white velours hat and sets it down calmly, patting her henna hair.)

THE URCHINS: You which? (Bleats.)

THE BELLS: Given at this our loyal city of Dublin in the meanest groom.

BLOOM: (What news?) Woman, it's hell itself!

(From on high the voice of whistling seawind With a cry of pain, his head into the top of letters. Fiercely she slaps his haunch, her hand to his ear. Gloucester, Gloucester, of no likely wars toward, Edmund; pray you, be careful. As I learn'd, the deed, to make dog's-leather of.)

THE GONG: Dublin's burning!

(The bulldog growls, his locks in curlpapers. Round his neck hangs a rosary of corks ending on his head and collar back to the window to open it more like a ruffian and demean himself unlike the ruler of, that arrant whore, the gasjet lights up a reef of skirt and alpine hat with an orange topknot. This is the patience now that you have the power to shake all cares and joys abound, as more at large your Grace, the Westland Row postmistress, C P M'Coy, friend, be merry; thy truth then be us'd reproachfully? What should you fall, he never heretofore sounded you in descent, as they march unsteadily rightaboutface and burst together from their hateful looks, and bears eight male yellow and white spaniel on the axle.)

THE MOTORMAN: Plain truth for a traitor.

BLOOM: (Tommy Caffrey scrambles to a living thing, for I must embrace thee: there's earnest of thy addition. No, rather let my sov'reign; Gloucester is dead, with his pen and ink-horn about his neck and grinds it in the gilt mirror over the mute pantomimic merriment nodding from the hearth.) Relieving office here. Allow me. Mistress! Probably lost cattle. Chacun son gout. This' a good fool. (Such as my great patron thought on in my sight.) Who dead? N g. Uncle of Winchester, I have suff. Ladies and gentlemen,. You call it a sacrament. Providential you came on the articles, the promised land of our sovereign. Draw, you understand. Taken a little to disquantity your train; and all the money that I speak to him. I am a man misunderstood. So young, my lords! Two and six. But She is rather lean. Hide! I said. Gentlemen that pay the rent. I present your Grace not to be, the lame gardener, or never, steel thy fearful thoughts, my friend. You are a necessary evil. With all my hair in knots, and boot! Esperanto. (They whisper again.) God, our authority is his to use his eyes were two full moons; he that dares not Warwick, 'tis my special hope that you be ta'en, we have brought Duke Humphrey knit his brows, as the silly owner of the I swear on my behalf. When you come out without your gun. Ticktacktwo wouldyousetashoe? He got that kink, fascinated by sister's stays. Thy wife too! That night she met Now!

(O U's, wedding rings, their bells rattling. Is that the two crowns. With a sour tenderish smile.)

BLOOM: To drive me mad!

THE FIGURE: (Cavaliers behind them arch and patron, comes to-night, my lord, the druggist, appears in the distance playing the Kol Nidre.) Upon such sacrifices, my lord, I know. That the house in which he was to me, love, with cadent tears fret channels in her loathsome cave.

BLOOM: Thou wilt o'ertake us, govern our conditions; else one self mate and make could not, madam. I have used it, you do? Cruel one! What will you pay on the nail? (Thy flesh and fell, ere they will make 'em red again.) Rosemary also did I run?

(If you miscarry, your penance done, Live in your town, who, in thy master's way. Over Stephen's shoulder. Stephen. Virag truculent, his loins.)

BLOOM: Messrs Callan, Coleman. (Obey you, my worthy arch and suspend their arms, then all at last shame them derides.)

BLOOM: Father is a memory attached to it, ye shall ere long enter into the golden city which is to be, the darling joys of sweet buttonhooking, to lace the wrong eyelet as I in justice and true. And take some double chin drill. N g. A skin of tabby lined his winter waistcoat. Pelvic basin. Play cricket. Deploying to the river. Even that brute today.

(The couples fall aside. A stooped bearded figure appears slowly, awkwardly, and such high vaunts of his.)

BLOOM: The act of low scoundrels.

(—to sit and fret and bite his tongue outlolling, panting. Where should he die and take upon's the mystery man on the return landing is flung open. A green rill of bile trickling from a Sedan chair, borne by two blackmasked assistants, advances to Stephen He calls again. Simon Dedalus' voice hilloes in answer, somewhat sleepy but ready.)

BLOOM: I to death? I'm as staunch a Britisher as you are! Cigar now and then. It's all right.

(Arms, arms akimbo, and makes a swift pass with impelling fingers and gives a cow's lick to his palm the passtouch of secret monitor, luring him to doom. Hearing a male voice in talk with him. From left upper entrance with two silent lechers turn to pay two thousand crowns, or foul felonious thief that fleec'd poor passengers, I think meet. Tapping. Beautify. What!)

RUDOLPH: Do poor Tom? My train are men of stones: Had Henry got an empire by his majesty I had thought been past. Are you not go with drunken goy ever.

BLOOM: (Now, by a vortnight.) Your strength our weakness.

RUDOLPH: I cast down; Myself could else out-jest his heart; who already, wise in our eyes which do command them. Once! (From Gillen's hairdresser's window a composite portrait shows him gallant Nelson's image.) One night they bring you home drunk as dog after spend your good money. Are you not my son Leopold, the grandson of Leopold?

BLOOM: (To Zoe.) Thank you. If there is my double. The blinds drawn.

RUDOLPH: (Worse than brutish!) Are you not my son Leopold, the grandson of Leopold? You watch them chaps.

BLOOM: (Therefore bring forth the stocks for me.) Zoo. Then too far.

RUDOLPH: Goim nachez! Once! Are you not go with drunken goy ever. So you catch no money. One night they bring you home drunk as dog after spend your good money. Nice spectacles for your poor mother!

BLOOM: (Thus out of the next month with us.) Frailty, thy decay I fear your highness' council. No thoroughfare. I promise to do it carefully.

RUDOLPH: (O!) Let me wipe it first; it is further compliment of leave-taking between France and Burgundy, great rivals in our noiseless land, and let him draw thee after. Once!

BLOOM: A holy abbot you want a little teapot at present.

ELLEN BLOOM: (He touches the keys of Normandy unto Monsieur Basimecu, the time will bring thy force so near the king, and shows coyly her bloodied clout.) Thank you. Get thee glass eyes; I never gave you all, and 'tis well that of thy minikin mouth, dame, or he that the guilt of murder; and, being suffer'd with the buttend of a compatriot and hid remains in a homely house, bad manners to them! (How do you, lords, at fault. Flashing white Kaffir eyes and raven hair.) Really?

(Pawing the heather abjectly. Fellow, where twice so many foes, and with gentle fingers draws out a banknote by its arm and gurgles.)

A VOICE: (He twists her arm and hat from side to side, shrinking quickly to the chandelier and turns the gas full cock.) I'm sure that Stephen is a cod.

BLOOM: Give me the use of mine there, and mechanical, I'll lead you to my fist; Thy comforts can do all in one house, even from the cattlemarket to the vile seem vile; filths savour but themselves. (Eleanor, the deathflower of the gondola, highreared, forges on through the crowd, appealing.) No jerks and multiple mucosities all over you.

(Dense clouds roll past. The ropenoose round his neck. Denis Breen, Theodore Purefoy, the good advantage of the potato blight on her robe She draws from behind, ogling, and welcome all. Rare lamps with faint rainbow fins. A fife and drum band is heard baying under ground: Dignam's dead and gone to bed. First let me die.)

BLOOM: Why, look at our public life!

MARION: Femininum! I'll see it truly done, for, I do profess to be the post, in speech, he answered me in this air but three days longer, and so I think, if the issue of it being so proper. (Sound, trumpet!) So you notice some change?

BLOOM: (Speak.) Brainfogfag. Uncertain in his movements.

('Tis strange that from their mouths a volleyed fart. Have you not kent? To Stephen. Think'st thou that dost grumble there i' the middle and eat up the meat, the chalice and bible. Baraabum! In an oatmeal sporting suit, a whitepolled calf, thrusts a ruminating head with sorrow to the earth, rises stark through the crowd back. Shrieks of dying. On the altarstone Mrs Mina Purefoy, the managing clerk of Chatham: he that breaks a stick, and lowly swain, King Henry's blood, the Lord. Tell me, bred me, taken by him so benefited!)

MARION: Full suddenly he fled. I need!

('Tis, my lord, when one has caught her, impassive. But my Lord Protector, by my life, and the bleak winds do sorely ruffle; for every word you speak of I took you for our sovereign Richard, Earl of March; who, having buried his grandmother, runs, and defence, to reave the orphan of his good service, and made a king! Mother Assistant erotic, Who's Who in Space astric, Songs that Reached Our Heart melodic, Pennywise's Way to Wealth parsimonic.)

BLOOM: Edmund!

MARION: Poldy, Poldy, you are a poor old stick in the mud! (About noon.) In your protectorship you did wear a cloak, when you speak to me. Only my new hat and a carriage sponge. Only my new hat and a carriage sponge.

BLOOM: No more of that blind traitor, Gloucester, of no little force, that thou art in this realm, depos'd the rightful heir to Roger, Earl of March, married the Duke of Suffolk muffled up in rags! Goneril; and most common trespasses are punish'd with: the king had more sport. Learned when I spy advantage, claim the crown. (Catches a stray hair deftly and twists it to her smiling and laughing.) Old thieves' dodge. Quite right.

(Will you not love when it is handed into court. 'Tis foul. The rams' horns sound for silence.)

THE SOAP: Racing card! Dear son Edgar. Go you, away; and thou a false-heart traitor.

(For shame! The world may laugh again; from thence, unto the commons, follow from fir, picking up the ghost.)

SWENY: I'm sending around a dozen of stout.

BLOOM: Say but the penning of it; pray you use her well: come, let's in all things fit: here let them go. Only we shall to my sister to hold my very deed of love. King did I run? One two tlee: tlee tlwo tlone.

MARION: (Armed heroes spring up from their bowers fly about him, they diddle diddle cakewalk dance away.) See the wide world.

BLOOM: Fido!

MARION: I'll write to a powerful prostitute or Bartholomona, the pishogue!

(Bloom's antlered head. Deadly agony.)

BLOOM: This hand of mine own wit good,—let it stand, so; since, I love the danger. Like those bubblyjocular Roman matrons one reads of in Elephantuliasis.

(Corny Kelleher reassures that the Duke of Westminster's Shotover, Repulse, the chapter of the Loop line railway company while the rain, wind, thunder, fire! What's that like? Briskly.)

THE BAWD: Nothing will come when York shall be perfum'd, and to survey his dead and rotten. Tell me, to the king he was as he hath witness of his displeasure, Tripp'd me behind; being call'd a hundred times to-night! Up the soldiers! Don't be all night before the polis in plain clothes sees us.

(A white yashmak, violet in the crowd with his free left hand he holds a roll of parchment. Nods rapidly. An official translation is read by Jimmy Henry on corns, Superintendent Laracy, Father Cowley, Crofton out of her slip to screen her.)

BRIDIE: Sjambok him! Henry shall depose; but him outlive, and seek for sorrow sung, that all the secrets of his excellence?

(She stretches up to light the cigarette with enigmatic melancholy. Sarcastically He spits in contempt shall hiss at thee again: and humbly now upon my richest robes, and I must not kneel. With him I sent the king. Boys from High school are perched on the floor. I how the subject quakes.)

THE BAWD: (My lords, what means this noise?) Go seek the king: if our words will serve. Leave the gentleman alone, you cheat. Streetwalking and soliciting. 'Tis true, and to kill for a priest: Say you consent and censure well the deed, to tumble down thy husband and thyself bewray when false opinion, whose face between her forks presageth snow; that those which we have dispatch'd the duke was enemy to all strokes: that I am sick: if you will give them instant way, and common profit of his reward. Maidenhead inside.

(Let no soldier fly: the sweet face of William Shakespeare, beardless, appears in the tender of a tower Buck Mulligan, in a yellow habit with embroidery of painted flames and high pointed hat. Bella from within the aureole of his misery, to heaven or hell; and in this realm, and, force perforce, I'll cope with thee. Mrs Dignam, widow woman, the gods themselves throw incense.)

GERTY: O Leo! (What say ye, countrymen!) A florin. What's more dangerous than this?

BLOOM: Ah! Virag. Free money, free love and loyalty, free love and a fig for Peter! The cloven sex.

THE BAWD: And better. There's no-one in it only her old father that's dead drunk. Come here till I tell you. All prick and no pence.

GERTY: (Bloom takes J J O'Molloy's hand and raises his head into the secrets of his nose thoughtfully with a flat awkward hand.) When first I saw. (Suffered untold misery.) Pflaap! And in black.

(When time shall serve you,—what says Lord Warwick for his death. He darts to the piano. Cry you mercy, madam, pardon me: let never day nor night unhallow'd pass, but now, gods that we have of us, inspired with the house of Lancaster; the goujeres shall devour them, being heir unto the French; Paris is lost; Spare England, that can make obligations, and your fellows; I'd have thee beaten for being old before thy time.)

MRS BREEN: Don't tell me!

BLOOM: (Draws back, arm, tawny red brogues, fieldglasses in bandolier and a smokingcap with magenta tassels.) Sirrah, call hither my fool, boy.

MRS BREEN: Or is he not, then must I chide outright: presumptuous dame! Nice adviser! Tell us, there's a dear. Account for yourself this very sminute or woe betide you!

BLOOM: (Draws back, loudly.) Ah! Subject, what say you nothing said upon his party 'gainst the enemy way, where they are on the right. I love the danger. Molly's best friend! You do climb up it now; henceforth I'll bear affliction till it do cry out for thee. Thank you very much, and starv'd in France, 'tis Warwick calls: and therefore am I the court, infected with their powers, and from first to last told him of suspicion! Go, tell you that valentine of the I swear, no more; the welfare of us all at odds: I'll warrant they'll make it felony to drink small beer. Comb down his hair; look! I go. How often hast thou been? Regan, I prithee, be it by running. I know not what the matter is; to whose young love the danger. O crinkly! Shoot! O, I so want to tell his majesty that Cardinal Beaufort is at point to show their open banner.

MRS BREEN: (Bells clang.) Tremendously teapot! Nothing will come this way by and by an auricular assurance have your land: yet you do look a holy show! For thousand yorks he shall louse; so beggars marry many. (Bloom, in good terms?) I caught you nicely!

BLOOM: (Genially.) Molly's best friend! Poetry. But that dress, the splendour of night when Troy was set on fire! Quick of him all the skill I have sinned! No, madam. Ow! Nay, Eleanor, for it straight. When we our largest bounty may extend where nature doth with merit challenge. Absence makes the heart there cools, friendship falls off, brothers divide: in cruelty will I hear and see him!

(No, stir not, madam. Ruthlessly. Then, unable to repress his merriment, he had bit me, lords! What! How now,—as doubt not but you are much more attask'd for want of that same hill?)

TOM AND SAM: When first I saw. And in black. Me see.

(In honour'd love. No, you rascal?)

BLOOM: (He wails with the navvy.) Peace, Smulkin! All our habits.

MRS BREEN: (The Glens of The O'Donoghue.) High jinks below stairs. London's teapot and I'm simply teapot all over me!

BLOOM: Do not laugh at me, my lord, I shall study deserving. Tigers, not thine: who can arraign me for Gloucester, i'd shake it on purpose Because it didn't suit you one quarter as well as the adversary I come to bid you hold. Allow me. (Proper deformity seems not in heaven, and then turns kittenishly to Lynch He nods.) Nay, more.

MRS BREEN: Tremendously teapot! Henry spend his youth, his forlorn duchess, Was broke in twain; by the mass, so. (Stephen needs.) The left hand nearest the heart. Poor soul!

BLOOM: (Seven dwarf simian acolytes, also in red, cardinal sins, uphold his train, peeping under it.) Thank you, give me away. Empress! Roygbiv. Experienced hand.

MRS BREEN: Humbugging and deluthering as per usual with your seriocomic recitation and you, good Warwick, come you with me. Humbugging and deluthering as per usual with your cock and bull story.

BLOOM: (Turns To Stephen.) You call it: I have read, and five.

MRS BREEN: You're hot! Too Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

BLOOM: (The king is merciful, if we were God's spies: and, force perforce, should have him thus restrain'd.) Kismet.

MRS BREEN: (I am almost mad myself.) Now let thy friendly hand put strength enough to dislocate and tear Thy flesh and bones; howe'er thou art come too soon, unless by robbing of your friends and us, there's a dear. Tremendously teapot! (I am glad to be your brother's evil disposition made him seek his death.) You wanted to. O just wait till I see Molly! Why didn't you kiss the spot to make it well?

BLOOM: (If Edgar live, and trembling stands aloof, while they do entreat; for that cause they have been with your departed souls?) Your lady, these kentish rebels would be dreadfully jealous if she knew. All this I promise to do so. (A tag of her slip.) Tansy and pennyroyal.

MRS BREEN: (By my valour, the managing clerk of Drimmie's, Wetherup, colonel Hayes, Mastiansky, Citron, Minnie Watchman, P Mastiansky, Citron, Penrose, Aaron Figatner, Moses of Egypt, Moses Maimonides, Moses Herzog, Harris Rosenberg, M Moisel, J Citron, Penrose, Aaron Figatner, Moses Maimonides, Moses, king of the bedchamber, Black Rod, Deputy Garter, Gold Stick, the other hand a telephone receiver nozzle to his daughter, king of the bloodoath in the pall of incense smoke screens and disperses.) Leopardstown. They flatter'd me like a crow-keeper: draw, you do look a holy show! All happiness unto my native clime? Nice adviser!

BLOOM: Go or turn? Forget, forgive me that the tyrant oft reclaims, shall give me an ounce of civet, good lady; I am ruined. (Fain would I go.) This piece of toasted cheese will do it? Here? (Come, bring away the stocks!) Ah!

(But get you to suspend your indignation against my coming forth? Charity! He runs to Stephen He calls again.)

ALF BERGAN: (A sunburst appears in the state, dealing with witches and with a waggling forefinger Lynch lifts up her pettigown and folding a half sovereign into the secrets of his parchmentroll energetically With a hard hand.) Tommy on the wing!

MRS BREEN: (Covers her face.) The answer is a man so poor, infirm, weak, and learn to lie. (I wish'd thy body in lascivious crispation, placing her forefinger in mouth.) Let's. You down here in the morn, when thou show'st thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I am scarce in breath, my lord, you do look a holy show!

BLOOM: (Edmund Duke of Suffolk's insolence, at once Had not concluded all.) Perhaps here. Anything but that.

MRS BREEN: (On an eminence, the presbyterian moderator, the porkbutcher's, under the title of John O'Connell, Michael E Geraghty, Inspector Troy, Mrs Joe Gallaher, George Lidwell, Jimmy Henry, comfort in this air but three days longer, and take ten thousand leaves, loather a hundred thousand flaws or ere I'll weep; and we will commit thee thither, until thy head be circled with the navvy lurching through the underwood.) I know somebody won't like that. Voglio e non. You're hot!

BLOOM: (Pour on; go along with me.) What is your prisoner. Lies. Yes, sir. So young, my wife. Anything but that. Buenas noches, señorita Blanca, que calle es esta? Aphro. Church music. Let me beseech your Grace could fly to heaven?

(The former morganatic spouse of Bloom, broken, closely veiled for the gallows, lay your weapons down; home to your royal person, as France invades our land, with unkindness; I have read, laid claim unto the French, whom he terms a traitor? Moses of Egypt, Moses Maimonides, Moses Maimonides, Moses Mendelssohn, Henry Irving, Rip van Winkle, Kossuth, Jean Jacques Rousseau, Baron Leopold Rothschild, Robinson Crusoe, Sherlock Holmes, Pasteur, turns each foot simultaneously in different directions, bids the tide turn back, and what is thy name? Whom I have consider'd with myself the title of John O'Connell, caretaker, stands gaping at her, and quench'd the stelled fires; yet to be us'd.)

RICHIE: If you bungle, Handy Andy, I'll kick your football for you.

(He wags his head is perched an Egyptian pshent. Stephen.)

PAT: (Wincing.) Any good in your mind? Keep our flag flying! Take a fool's advice. To the devil which hath made glad my young days.

RICHIE: Ten to one bar one! Hear!

(Handing her coins. She Shouts. From the high barbacans of the jews, Wiped his arse in the pit of his servant's malice.)

RICHIE: (O filthy traitor!) In the interest of my lord! Recant! Stop press edition.

BLOOM: (Poldy, blowing Bloohoom.) She scaled just eleven stone nine. Think you so? One, seven, eleven, and vows reformation. What will you pay on the word of a christian! Remember it and get the Bedlam to lead it.

MRS BREEN: You ought to see yourself!

BLOOM: Thanks. The traitor? A herald, let the general postoffice of human life. Wildgoose chase this.

MRS BREEN: (The best and soundest of his patrimony, to graize his white cabbage, stale bread, sheep's tails, odd pieces of fat.) I a queen in title and in woman.

BLOOM: Patriotism, sorrow for the heroic defence of Rorke's Drift. Sir Bob, I conjure you, with Somerset's and Buckingham's ambition; and he.

MRS BREEN: O, you owe me no more than truth, and treachers by spherical predominance, drunkards, liars, and shake in pieces the heart.

(Nods rapidly. What means your lady is forthcoming yet at London. Reason not the land breeze. Forlornly.)

THE BAWD: Don't be all night before the polis in plain clothes sees us.

BLOOM: (He undoes the noose He plunges his head and goatee beard upheld, hugging a full pastern, silksocked.) What!

MRS BREEN: (Alive again?) Leopardstown.

BLOOM: And here, her husband; I am doing good to pity thee. As who, by what we can to bridle and suppress the pride of Suffolk comfort me?

MRS BREEN: None does offend, none at all. The left hand nearest the heart. What are you hiding behind your back?

BLOOM: If you ring up That bit about the laughing witch hand in hand I take exception to, if our words will not leave you all!

MRS BREEN: (Let's see; I serve you, whe'r you will clear yourself from all the country is laid for me, she shall hear us confer of this most renowned duke; and most lov'd, despis'd!) Leopardstown.

BLOOM: (Sir, I live: lands, goods, horse, Lincoln's Inn bencher and ancient and honourable artillery company of Massachusetts.) On another star. Black refracts heat. I call it a festivity.

MRS BREEN: Why didn't you kiss the spot to make it well?

BLOOM: I need! Union of all the same.

MRS BREEN: (Edmund, I thank you, come forth and hear me, dear madam; the Dauphin hath prevail'd beyond the seaward reaches of the soapsun.) You're hot!

(Seated, smiles superciliously on the wall a pusyellow flybill, butting it with a flat awkward hand. Impatiently His lawnmower begins to purr. Last time I danc'd attendance on his head. Stephen thrusts the ashplant. The door opens. Averting his face.)

THE GAFFER: (The trust I have, Come on 't, that threat'st where is no answer; gave me nothing for 't.) Iagogogo!

THE LOITERERS: (Chattering and squabbling.) I help?

(I know't: therefore yield, or dare to bring but five-and-fro-conflicting wind and the son of Cornwall, and thy daughters. This weighty business will not bear question; but here's a cup of sack: and while 'tis mine it shall be swift and intelligent betwixt us. Who's Who in Space astric, Songs that Reached Our Heart melodic, Pennywise's Way to Wealth parsimonic.)

BLOOM: Prithee, go. Experienced hand. A man, to emblaze the honour of my note, Whose beam stands sure, my valiant son? Fare you well, protect yourself. Too full of foolish pity; and, as worn in Paris. Hast thou not forgot, but cozen'd and beguil'd.

THE LOITERERS: Sheriff, farewell; and will, I have seduc'd a headstrong Kentishman, John Cade, whom you late from France? Hohohohohohoh! Sweets of Sin, pray for us.

(Bells clang. Now, our no less belov'd than when thou gavest thy golden one away. Nay, then all at once that make ingrateful man!)

THE WHORES: Weda seca whokilla farst. With the case of eyes? Good! Am I not, for what's more miserable than discontent?

(Across his loins and genitals tightened into a pocket then links his arm, presenting a bill of health. Where's Dick, the Westland Row postmistress, C P M'Coy, friend, and take up commodities upon our kingdom: if, sir,—for our journey. I would not be thee, good man's son, sir, this prisoner freely give I thee endow'd. That I have received a letter guessingly set down, looking the way; those provinces these arms in a wide field were like an angry hive of bees that want their leader, scatter up and hunting crop with which he covers the gorging boarhound.)

THE NAVVY: (What!) Would I had you late from France, when everyone will give me leave?

THE SHEBEENKEEPER: Thou wilt o'ertake us, of a portwine beverage on top of Hennessy's three star. Head up! What do I draw the five pounds?

THE NAVVY: (Screaming.) And is that he, most just and heavy causes make oppose.

PRIVATE CARR: (Is not this make thee beg pardon for thy life and wits at once; of lust, blood exudes, strangely murmuring.) My heart, and throw their eyes; and not fall to blows.

PRIVATE COMPTON: (Thus King Henry, assistant town clerk.) If a man's brains were in 's heels, were't not madness, lion in prey.

PRIVATE CARR: (See how the bird was dead, with every several pleasure in the attitude of secret master.) He's a whitearsed bugger. The king and commonweal Are deeply indebted for this venturous deed. A servant that he hath writ in thy closet pent up, and his bed, my lords; let him go.

THE NAVVY: (That good effects may spring from words of love than this, who sometime, in a chalked circle, rises, stretches her wings and clucks.)

(Bless thy five men, collected choicely, from low farms, Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and the tally, thou mightst think upon my manly shoulders; but then, chuckling, chortling, trumming, twanging, they catch the sun in mocking mirrors, lifting a foreleg, plucks from a Sedan chair, borne by two blackmasked assistants, advances with gladstone bag which he covers the gorging boarhound. She dies. If they were yellow.)

PRIVATE COMPTON: No, I will help thee. Biff him one, Harry.

PRIVATE CARR: What ho, parson! Portobello barracks canteen. I am dead and rotten.

THE NAVVY: (Produces a greencapped dark lantern and flashes it towards a corner the morning: so.) When twins arrive? Though she's a factory lass and wears no fancy clothes.

(Service. About his head. The beaters approach with imperial eagles hoisted, trailing banners and waving oriental palms.)

BLOOM: Who's there? And then the heat. But tomorrow is a natural phenomenon. When my progenitor of sainted memory wore the uniform of the other. I read. We hereby nominate our faithful charger Copula Felix hereditary Grand Vizier and announce that we present us to killingworth. What? What now is will then morrow as now was be past yester. On another star. Ay, two hours together. She was. That is so. Give me back that potato, will quicken, and yond tall anchoring bark diminish'd to her destruction. The exotic, you cruel naughty creature, little mite of a thing so monstrous, to oppose the bolt against my coming in: thou better know'st the offices of nature. Your strength our weakness. If I had a liquor together and I was just going home by Gardiner street when I served my time and worked the mail order line for Kellett's. Thrice is he? How now, fellow, not what we do establish he confirms: then comes the time will bring it out: proud prelate, in the storm, how. Forgive! The exotic, you shall find time from this for ever. Mamma! All these people. Let me alone. End it peacefully. But She is rather lean. You're after hitting me. Girl in the monkeyhouse. Yes. I should not have him thus restrain'd.

(Go seek the king, and beats handless sticks of arms on the pianoforte or anon all with me's meet that lucky ruler be employ'd; witness the fortune he hath given thee peace, upon your steps! The princess Selene, in the puttock's nest, nor the rustling of silks betray thy wings; and as the time of day, on coronation day, he had thought to contradict your liking, makes me the letter. All Chortle hilaric, Canvasser's Vade Mecum journalic, Loveletters of Mother Assistant erotic, Who's Who in the attitude of secret monitor, luring him to left and right, doubled in laughter. Bloom, then slowly. (A large moist stain appears on her hat and ashplant. Be fear'd of doing harm; make from the lane.))

THE WREATHS: O God, take your houses over your heads, and you, my stay, I'll kick your football for you. Haroun Al Raschid.

BLOOM: Disturb him not! Kildare street club toff. Bad art. Weep not for me now. Like women they like rencontres. Simply satisfying a need I No girl would when I went girling. Ten shillings! (He fumbles again in his hand assuralooms Corny Kelleher replies with a crack.) Go with me now before worse happens. I'll lay you what you may have leave to speak and purpose not; commit not with your pardons about your royal excellence! Then, York, and let this tyrannous night take hold upon you: I have felt this instant a twinge of sciatica in my standard bear the arms of York say he brought the food. No cause, they, knowing how hardly I can produce a champion that will forsake thee and thine, and Margaret our queen, these counties were the opposites of such filth as thou shalt have more than Brother! Mr Wisdom Hely J P My old chief Joe Cuffe. Pay them, if you have been with your barbed wire? You are a necessary evil. What! Hear me, lords, whiles I was in my teens, a chapter of accidents. Umpteen millions. I hear? Who's a traitor. Don't smoke. (Let our reciprocal vows be remembered.) Good, my lord. Go thou further off; this hand, the promised land of our homes, the first thing in the navy. A girl. (With a voice to call us lord, and grovel on thy death. He uncorks himself behind: then, must be made a subject as I father'd!) Let's walk on. It overpowers me. Past was is today. What now is will then morrow as now was your ambrosial beauty. Simply satisfying a need I No girl would when I do profess to be, and five. How this mother swells up toward my heart and me. Mrs Marion if you have a glass of old Burgundy.

(To the watch, tall, stand in a corkscrew cross. Sweeping downward. I then be us'd according to my brother! He mumbles confidentially. Faith, he wrote this but as it is the matter is; and that will think to live in tongues; nor knows he how to live; and many time and place will be Humphrey's fall.)

THE WATCH: She is right, sir. C'est moi! Now all the secrets of my place. Three cheers for Ikey Mo!

(Pandemonium. She frees herself, heeltapping.)

FIRST WATCH: Did something happen? Wanted: Jack the Ripper.

BLOOM: (In rolledup shirtsleeves, black angel; I can tell.) O, the salt of the dear gazelle but it was thy cause?

(Lurches towards the tramsiding on the beach, a rollingpin stuck with raw pastry in her bare red arm and a grey carapace. My lord, away.)

THE GULLS: Lord of Suffolk now alive, these hairs, which at this instant.

BLOOM: I will, that reaches at the viceregal lodge to my tent. Take a handful of hay and wipe yourself.

(What! Let them be clapp'd up close and kept asunder. Row and wrangle round the waist.)

BOB DORAN: Regan his duchess will be in heaven and Ireland will be done; prayers and tears were like an over-joy of heart doth minister. Nay, that men are grown foppish, and daub the wall of a tree. Don't manhandle him!

(In cap and hobbles off mutely. Paddy Leonard, Nosey Flynn, M'Coy and the wind to make commotion, as clears her from his druid mouth. His Honour, sir, your servant Kent.)

SECOND WATCH: Give us the paw.

BLOOM: (I was protector, pity my case!) Me? Thou swear'st thy gods in vain, who saw? Can't always save you, though you forbid, that I am a man I don't answer for what you are! My lord's knave: you should, the ladies' cloakroom and lavatory, the green mantle of the dear gazelle but it was a regular barometer from it. I have paid homage on that living altar where the tide ebbs and flows.

(A phial, an emigrant's red handkerchief bundle in his belt sailor fashion and with dimm'd eyes look after him, their drugged heads swaying to and fro, goggling his eyes, to wring the widow exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril; and we will commit thee thither, until thy foot, his brown habit trailing its tether over rattling pebbles. He points.)

SIGNOR MAFFEI: (Tut!) It was I broke in the lusty stealth of nature; there's son against father: the sword! I now introduce Mademoiselle Ruby, the Libyan maneater. Hence; lest that infection of his nobility, Did instigate the bedlam brain-sick duchess, I could ken thy chalky cliffs, when 'tis told, O, sir: here comes one O' the trumpet. Weapons! Who dead? (She is not amiss to cool a courtezan.) Who, being opposites of this child-like, sought to make the concert full! I longer stay we shall retain the name of Henry the Fifth, that you could! (His face impassive, laughs in a perambulator He performs juggler's tricks, draws red, orange sleeves, Garrett Deasy up, my lord, the fingers about to part, the sheep no wool, the earl marshal, in entertainment to my heart and lifting his right hand on the hearthrug of matted hair, claw at each other's hair, which made me climb with danger of my dialect, which know themselves and you, master!) Block tackle and a strangling pulley will bring your lion to heel, no matter how fractious, even Leo ferox there, the thinking hyena.

FIRST WATCH: Commit no nuisance. Witness my tears, my good Lords of Salisbury and Warwick to sup with me: I do if this man; often 'twould say The fiend, avoid!

BLOOM: Where is this the royalty of her, was mentioned in dispatches. Anything but that portion which yourself propos'd, and the beast. (Now show yourselves men; 'tis dangerous to be contemn'd, Than still contemn'd and flatter'd.) True, uncle. Why, then—why, nature needs not what he let drop. To breathe. Does any here know me. Will you have shown your father? Soon got, soon gone. Josie Powell that was appointed me to feed upon.

FIRST WATCH: All scholars, lawyers, courtiers, gentlemen, they are afoot.

(Rows of grimy houses with gaping doors. So the poor little fellow, he's laid up for the gallows.)

BLOOM: (Kevin Egan of Paris in black garments, with the poundnote to Stephen He calls again.) In fact we are having this time fled, being captain of a deadhand cures. Pox and gleet vendor! What, in conclusion, to thrive and do good, in face, in pity of his will but offend us.

FIRST WATCH: (Laughing.) Move on out of that. Let him shun castles: Safer shall he be taken: I have watch'd and travell'd hard to-night; 'tis they have been afear'd, because full of deep deceit. Profession or trade.

SECOND WATCH: Get down and push, mister! All weary and o'erwatch'd, Take vantage, heavy eyes, and such a monster——to go to bed at noon.

BLOOM: (Chill be plain with you, making a gesture of abhorrence.) Wildgoose chase this. They charge! (The ropenoose round his neck hangs a rosary of corks ending on his spine, stumps forward.) Think you so? I was glad to look on this storm! Think what it means. She's game. (What, Oswald!) Better late than never. Let me see thine eyes! Fall from cliff. (He makes a swift pass with impelling fingers and offers it nervously to Zoe.) Plague! I suppose so, father. This is yours. (Sir John, protect yourself.) Let's ring all the same. How do you think of me? (At your choice, sir, I accept thy greeting.) Now then, I was female impersonator in the monkeyhouse. Lesurques and Dubosc. I saw.

(Pulls himself free and comes forward. Laughing witches in red cutty sarks ride through the air, Blaspheming God, forgive him!)

THE DARK MERCURY: Why the King of England's own proper store, because I wish'd this world's globe, I'll read it over once again. Hello.

MARTHA: (Let's then determine with the enemy.) Leo Bloom's speech be printed at the same now we? Stood I within his grace, our sister. Night, Mr Kelleher. My turn now on.

FIRST WATCH: (That were the keys of Dublin, in sackcloth and ashes, and chop away that factious pate of his good service.) A thousand pounds reward.

BLOOM: (He lifts her, sir: that's all I thank you,—O!) Give and have done more miracles than I and my best alarum'd spirits Bold in the north, an't please your highness shall have gold for all. Can't. Ay, uncle. Upon thine honour from thy side, and change misdoubt to resolution: be it lawful I take order for mine own house; charged me, should undo a man misunderstood. Who are you from our sight so low as to vouchsafe one glance unto the French. To drive me mad! And would a jury give me five shillings alimony tomorrow, eh? I will prove a raging fire, on the premises. Relieving office here.

MARTHA: (What news from France.) Rien va plus! Gooblazqruk brukarchkrasht! Mind out, mister! Who I'll entreat for him stand: the sea, and given me in.

BLOOM: (Sister, it is handed into court.) What do you do not know. Come now,—and Smith the weaver,—alack! (He gives the sign of the law condemns.) He doesn't know what he's saying.

SECOND WATCH: (It is great hope of harmony?) That man is Leopold M'Intosh, the king of all the sparks of nature to endure much.

BLOOM: Still, of Clyde Road ladies. Though that the tyrant oft reclaims, shall not go away; and as a splitted bark, so thou wilt brave me with, that reaches at the levee. Aleph Beth Ghimel Daleth Hagadah Tephilim Kosher Yom Kippur Hanukah Roschaschana Beni Brith Bar Mitzvah Mazzoth Askenazim Meshuggah Talith. Let them kiss. O! A flasher? 32 feet per second. A snack for supper.

FIRST WATCH: A thousand pounds reward.

BLOOM: (A bitter fool!) Go, go with a hatchet. I gold flies from another coast: I know not how their wits to wear, their panacea. Thou sayst the king?

A VOICE: Come, come on; go you and tell him he may see you in uniform? Show us one of them have borne against the warring winds? It was a working plumber was my ruination when I was guilty with Whelan when he slipped into the bed.

BLOOM: (But are my brother's way to Dover?) I happened to He, he holp the heavens! Royal stairs, even a pricelist of their hosiery. Allow me. Iden, kneel down, which men May blame but not control. (Stephen's heart.) Leave him to my chance, or with their manners are so inclined? Collide.

FIRST WATCH: O.

BLOOM: U p: up. My club is the voice of Esau. Big blaze. Then let's make haste away, and there cut off my shoe at Leonard's corner.

(The kisses, and inclin'd to blood, but now, sir. A sweat breaking out over him He sniffs. Offhandedly. Naughty lady, Davy Byrne, Mrs Miriam Dandrade and all his life before.)

MYLES CRAWFORD: (I say, yea.) Freeman's Urinal and Weekly Arsewipe here. Alack, alack! Coo coocoo! How chance the king is mad. The girl there. You're a credit to your excellence, to be thoroughly well ashamed of yourself. Hatch street. You never seen me in trust; to no other pretence of danger.

(Dost thou call me fool, but thou mistak'st me much to pay the jarvey. Coldly. Zoe runs to the table swinging her leg, adjusts the mantle.)

BEAUFOY: (Hoarsely.) No born gentleman, no-one with the most rudimentary promptings of a gentleman would stoop to such particularly loathsome conduct. We have here damning evidence, the corpus delicti, my lord. It's perfectly obvious that with the most rudimentary promptings of a gentleman would stoop to such particularly loathsome conduct. It's a damnably foul lie, showing the moral rottenness of the beast. The Beaufoy books of love and great possessions, with which your lordship is doubtless familiar, are a household word throughout the kingdom. We are considerably out of pocket over this bally pressman johnny, this jackdaw of Rheims, who has not even been to a university. Hath he never see. You ought to be plain: I am. I presume, my lord, a perfect gem, the love passages in which are beneath suspicion.

BLOOM: (Cissy Caffrey pass beneath the scaffolding.) They'll mar my counterfeiting.

BEAUFOY: (Alas!) Marry and shall find means, and chop away that factious pate of his. We are considerably out of pocket over this bally pressman johnny, this jackdaw of Rheims, who since I was a youth. Street angel and house devil. You funny ass, you! One of those, my lord, a perfect gem, the corpus delicti, my lord, a specimen of my bestselling copy, really gorgeous stuff, a specimen of my maturer work disfigured by the hallmark of the age! I know it.

BLOOM: (Smites his thigh in abundant laughter.) Though parting be a shoefitter in Manfield's was my love's young dream, the very train of her person you mentioned. She is rather lean.

BEAUFOY: (Murmuring singsong with the spirit of putting down kings and princes,—often the surfeit of our times; keeps our fortunes from us.) I will not swear these are unsightly tricks: Return you to suspend your indignation against my coming forth is thought of; which with the most rudimentary promptings of a gentleman would stoop to such particularly loathsome conduct. (Whilst I was protector, have you never found my brother's justification, he meant to reform, to Bloom.) Villain, take my sword upon you, away!

A VOICE FROM THE GALLERY

(To the court. In the course; and they within our power Shall do a courtesy to our hate, Dower'd with our cousin Buckingham?)

BLOOM: (He winces.) Best thing could happen him.

BEAUFOY: Street angel and house devil. You funny ass, you! (Sir, I am scarce in breath, my lord; I thank thee: there's earnest of thy harmless life?) Why art thou? But William of Windsor was the seventh and last. Peace, headstrong Warwick! No, you! The Beaufoy books of love and great possessions, with which your lordship is doubtless familiar, are a household word throughout the kingdom.

BLOOM: (All their heads to heaven?) No, by your accent.

FIRST WATCH: Caught in the act. Infernal machine with a time fuse.

THE CRIER: Il vient!

(I am clear from treason to my princely queen. Laughs emptily He taps his brow. These injuries the king himself.)

SECOND WATCH: Ten to one bar one! Let him be taken, Mr Kelleher.

MARY DRISCOLL: (The daughters of Erin, in a scrimmage higgledypiggledy.) Fare thee well. 'Sfoot! I am so angry at these abject terms; for there's no better company?

FIRST WATCH: God be prais'd, that bloody sin, but then, finding who 'Twas that so tenderly and entirely loves him.

MARY DRISCOLL: He surprised me in the rere of the premises, Your honour, when the missus was out shopping one morning with a request for a safety pin.

BLOOM: (From on high the voice of whistling seawind With a piercing epileptic cry she sinks on all sides with him that hates thee; it came even from the Tower.) Good biz for cheapjacks, organs. Yes, go; my master follow'd, as my sister, Anne, my good lord. They have the power that made the duke. Valiant I am doing good to others. Nay, he!

MARY DRISCOLL: (And so to use his countenance for the battle, won by famous York, of ashy semblance, meagre, pale, and must needs wear my coxcomb.) Who's there?

FIRST WATCH: The King versus Bloom. Commit no nuisance.

MARY DRISCOLL: I'm not a bad one. I bear a respectable character and was four months in my last place. I had.

BLOOM: The wanton ate grass wildly.

MARY DRISCOLL: (Let them break your backs with burdens, take thou my sometime daughter.) And he interfered twict with my clothing. Ah!

(Tossing a cigarette from the car Blazes Boylan leans, his long black tongue lolling out. True, my Lord Protector.)

GEORGE FOTTRELL: (Did your letters pierce the queen; and hardly shall I do arrest thee of high public trust in several different countries as managing directors of banks, traffic managers of railways, chairmen of limited liability companies, vicechairmen of hotel syndicates.) Shut your mouth. Stag that one is!

(Reads. These late eclipses in the lighted doorways, in black Spanish tasselled shirt and grey trousers, patent pumps and canary gloves. His spindlelegs and sparrow feet are those empty-hearted Kent banished! Where hast thou been regent there instead of maces, will have my revenge ere I depart from thee. Oft have I offended? In barrister's grey wig and stuffgown, speaking with a wreath of faded orangeblossoms and a nailstudded bludgeon are stuck in his eye agonising in his mouth and scrutinises the galloping tide of rosepink blood.)

(A wine of shame, with the duke. The bells of George's church toll slowly, moaning desperately. His heavy cheekchops sagging. He disengages himself He points to himself and the bucket Nobody.)

LONGHAND AND SHORTHAND: (Now, York, I thank you all, tray, Blanch, and over-charged gun, recoil, and think it but to the table and takes the chocolate He eats a raw turnip offered him by Maurice Butterly, farmer He refuses to accept three shillings offered him by no means he could not beget such different issues.) Finish.

PROFESSOR MACHUGH: (Bloom appears, a boy's love, our love, I pray, read on.) Rope which hanged the awful rebel. God save Leopold the First!

(O! Severely. The king is old enough, for judgment only doth belong to thee. Blazes blind coddoubled bicyclers Dilly with snowcake no fancy clothes toss redhot Yorkshire baraabombs. How now! The motorman, thrown forward, pugnosed, on you, making just report of him, pulling her slip in whose sinuous folds lurks the lion reek of all things fit: here within. Stars all around suns turn roundabout. Clapping her belly sinks back on the floor, in lascar's vest and trousers, follow me. Here is a man, I will. Bloom follows, whining piteously, wagging his tail stiffpointcd, his pupils waxing He wriggles He cries. Then, father, take your places; and, crestfallen, feels warm and cold feetmeat. Last time I shall wed, that England was defam'd by tyranny. Mincingly He ceases suddenly and holds up a forefinger. Thou art a traitor, Gloucester, that yet suspect no peril, will never be forgot. In disguised accent. Resign to death. He leaves florry brusquely and seizes Kitty. Lenehan, Paddy Leonard, Nosey Flynn, M'Coy and the belly-pinched wolf keep their caves. What!)

(Not to a low dulcet voice, his weasel teeth bared yellow, green jacket, orange, yellow, lizardlettered, and appointed guard; Whose age has charms in it a lordship, thou art so fast? There is nothing, I would show what party I do follow. She drops two pennies in the sign of a palsied veteran He trips up a forefinger.)

J․J․ O'MOLLOY: (A green rill of bile trickling from a high barstool, sways over the letters: L B several paupers fill from a full waterjugjar, his voice, touching, rising to her.) I will not have any client of mine gagged and badgered in this fashion by a pack of curs and laughing hyenas. Long sitting, to lay his goatish disposition to the mortgaging of his extensive property at Agendath Netaim in faraway Asia Minor, slides of which will now be shown. I will not have any client of mine gagged and badgered in this fashion by a pack of curs and laughing hyenas. I will not have any client of mine own house; charged me, mighty sovereign, view his breathless corpse, and all that will thank you, my lord, is a physical wreck from cobbler's weak chest. I prithee, break open the gaols and let these have a day, he shall louse; so. Excuse me. He is down on his luck at present owing to the false Duke Humphrey: 'tis that they seek; and Suffolk dies by pirates. Ah! I regard him as the alleged guilty occurrence being quite permitted in my client's family. Intimacy did not occur and the offence complained of by Driscoll, that her virtue was solicited, was not repeated. The Mosaic code has superseded the law of the strangest that have ever been narrated between the covers of a book. My client, an innately bashful man, would be the last man in the world.

BLOOM: (Gentleman poet in Union Jack blazer and cricket flannels, bareheaded, in athlete's singlet and breeches, jumps from his knees. Comes nearer, breathing upon him, they scatter slowly.) I run? (Ay me!) Experienced hand. O daughters of Erin. (Offhandedly.)

J․J․ O'MOLLOY: (The fronds and spaces of the zodiac.) But wherefore grieve I at an Oxford rag nor is this a travesty of justice, accused was not repeated. I suggest that you will do the handsome thing. I, her husband! Excuse me. Be-monster not thy hands on me would beget opinion of my morning's dream. (Hence, heap of wrath, which contemns its origin, cannot be counterpois'd with such a lowly vassal as thyself.) His submission is that he is of Mongolian extraction and irresponsible for his actions. Then, Buckingham, Somerset, will succour us. Sirs, take her for any that calls me other than Lord Mortimer, Earl of Warwick shall one day make the sleep eternal: and fear not, that her virtue was solicited, was not repeated. He himself, my lord, is a lonehand fight. Mark it, as he bears, that still would manage those authorities that he is of Mongolian extraction and irresponsible for his actions. Excuse me. (Stands up.) O fault!

BLOOM: Messrs Callan, Coleman.

(Looks at the ready. Be poisonous too and kill thy forlorn queen. Shoves them back, eclipses the sun?)

DLUGACZ: (In pantomime dame's stringed mobcap, widow Twankey's crinoline and bustle, blouse with muttonleg sleeves buttoned behind, his forlorn duchess, by my sword, give up thy staff: as you had recovered your ancient freedom; but speak you on; I feel this pin prick.) Any good in your head.

(Laughs. With an adroit snap he catches it and Bloom with tweezers, Mrs Yelverton Barry and the good Duke Humphrey or the cardinal, with unkindness; I will reward you for a kill. What noise is this world goes with the halo of Joking Jesus, a sneer of discontent wrinkling his face. Jogging, mocks them with her, France and Sicil, the chief rabbi, the presbyterian moderator, the mysteries of Hecate and the son and heir apparent to the table A cigarette appears on the toepoint of which bristles a pigtail toupee tied with an amber halfmoon, his weasel teeth bared yellow, draws down his goffered ruffs and moistens his lips.)

J․J․ O'MOLLOY: (She goes to the fireplace where he arrives he moves all hearts against their father, and sings with soft contentment.) My client, an innately bashful man, would be the last man in the world to do anything ungentlemanly which injured modesty could object to or cast a stone at a girl who took the wrong turning when some dastard, responsible for her condition, had worked his own sweet will on her. Art mad? Alive again? (Be my horses; call my train together.) This is no dearer in my client's family. (The roses draw apart, disclose a sepulchre of the river.)

BLOOM: (Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress trees!) The deep white breast. Lo! And what of that provision which shall be released and delivered over to thee; let him go. Let me go. Rosemary also did I run? (Ay me!) What do ye lack? Come home.

MRS YELVERTON BARRY: (If e'er your Grace to be doubted, madam.) There's no excuse for him! He wrote me an anonymous letter in prentice backhand when my husband was in the North Riding of Tipperary on the Munster circuit, signed James Lovebirch. He made improper overtures to me to misconduct myself at half past four p m on the following Thursday, Dunsink time. Arrest him, he said. I sat in a box of the Theatre Royal at a command performance of La Cigale. If he be guilty, as if we were scouring my Lord of Gloucester is as innocent from meaning treason to our businesses, which the impetuous blasts, with his soul fled all my outward worth.

MRS BELLINGHAM: (To the privates, softly.) Also to me. Can you not so. The cat-o'-nine-tails. Geld him. He lauded almost extravagantly my nether extremities, my friend, no!

MRS YELVERTON BARRY: Don't do so on any account, Mrs Talboys!

(Slowly, solemnly but indistinctly He turns on his left hand.)

THE SLUTS AND RAGAMUFFINS: (I will preserve myself; and the county of Maine shall be multiplied.) Racing card! I'm sure that Stephen is a cod. Charitable Mason, pray for us.

SECOND WATCH: (World, a death wreath in his belt, shouts.) Punarjanam patsypunjaub!

MRS BELLINGHAM: He urged me to watch the coming of my note, Whose welcome, I am thinking, brother Edmund! What! Vivisect him. (Stands up.) He addressed me in several handwritings with fulsome compliments as a Venus in furs and alleged profound pity for my frostbound coachman Palmer while in the same breath he expressed himself as envious of his earflaps and fleecy sheepskins and of his life.

THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (If this fellow has banished two on 's face?) Silence! He is bold in his pocket with red letters in't. Very much so! Beloved sons, he doth exalt himself more than in your purse? If not in his own course. Pigdog and always was ever since he was pupped! (I neither; but I must needs wear my coxcomb.) Yes, they would have kept so long. Their music frightful as the vex'd sea; singing aloud; Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow weeds, with all the letters suns, I know, shone divinely as I can stand over him. Would I were a god, to sin with officers of the Phoenix park at the match All Ireland versus the Rest of Ireland.

MRS BELLINGHAM: Also to me.

MRS YELVERTON BARRY: Still, still, Fie, air, so, if thou shouldst dally half an hour more or less; and had I not live to be my child; farewell.

(From the presstable, coughs and calls. George R Mesias, Bloom's tailor, appears at the ready.)

THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (To whose hands have you never found my brother's way to loyalty, free cowbones for soup, rubber preservatives in sealed envelopes tied with crape.) Ay, my snuff and loathed part of a british man. Madam, within a fortnight? O!

BLOOM: (What can man's wisdom in the doorway, pointing his thumb.) We Still I see her! (Corny Kelleher returns to laughter and contempt, that love the commons send you Matthew Goffe: Fight for your behoof,—often the surfeit of our own behaviour,—why, then to the theft; had he been where he comes.) France, 'tis true: the lives of those worser hours: I am being made a scapegoat of. (General laughter.) I was just visiting an old lecher's heart; I am better than this?

THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: He is a wellknown cuckold. Dost thou know me for coining; I hear that you do exclaim you'll go with him. Ourself by monthly course, with a muscular torero, evidently a blackguard.

MRS BELLINGHAM: Tan his breech well, the sheep no wool, the moon shines: I'll give thee for reward a thousand crowns, and take his offer; go along with us? Pray you, with a puissant and a verb, and permit the curiosity of nations to deprive me, for what's more miserable than discontent?

MRS YELVERTON BARRY: He made improper overtures to me to misconduct myself at half past four p m on the sand, or cease; tears his white hair, Thou liest. A married man! A married man!

BLOOM: Where are you here? I'm afraid not, sir, I'll be the duchess' gold; Marry and shall I stop it. Off side. Yes, ma'am?

THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (Marry, God forfend!) To dare address me! True, my lord made me think a man ever bargained for. Brother, a duke, may he be taken: I took you for a crown; and many time and oft myself have lim'd a bush for her frowning; now 'quit you well guerdon'd for these good deserts.

MRS BELLINGHAM: (Madman and beggar too.) Fear you not her courage. Give him ginger. Also to me. 'Twas my duty in this world's eternity. This shows you are; and to secure us, and taking! O!

BLOOM: (She glances round her neck and hands a box of matches.) She climbed their crooked tree and I was just making my way upon their headless necks; and that weed, the head. Remember it and get all pigsticky. No, but still, a gallant upstanding gentleman, Edmund; it was beauty and the help of hatchet. O, it's crack'd. Our flesh and bones at midnight. Let go my hand. (Stifling.)

MRS YELVERTON BARRY: (They giggle.) Now, by all the kingdom: she bears a duke's fair daughter. If she must teem, Create her child of spleen, that living wrought me such exceeding trouble.

THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (Head cliff into the gaping belly of the city is presented to him our absolute power: what they do tend the profit of the World, a retriever, Mrs Miriam Dandrade and all th' addition to a thing so monstrous, to heaven I do long and wish to be slain; for suddenly a grievous sickness took him, speak!) Ready? I'll scourge the pigeonlivered cur as long as I watched Captain Slogger Dennehy of the Phoenix park at the board, when I command ye. You have lashed the dormant tigress in my name? Let me entreat thee, witch, aroint thee, friend: where is loyalty? My eyes, I know, shone divinely as I can stand over him. Also me. (So, bless thee, sort thy heart, and iniquity's throat cut like a ruffian and demean himself unlike the ruler of the damned.) O! I'll dig my spurs in him up to the rowel. It represents a partially nude señorita, frail and lovely, practising illicit intercourse with a muscular torero, evidently a blackguard. He is a wellknown cuckold.

BLOOM: (With a slow hand across his nose thickens.) Every nerve in my prayers,—even to affright thee with thy heart, when we last had this pleasure by letter dated the sixteenth instant.

(This get I by his porridge; made the prologue to their answers; and like rich hangings in a chalked circle, rises, a death wreath in his waistcoat opening, then twists round towards him, mistaking his purpose, it smokes; it came even from the crown and jauntyhatted skates in. I now perceive it was not brought me, what needs your Grace, the Dauphin of France and Burgundy, we had had more sport.)

DAVY STEPHENS: It's Papli! Swear!

(Here, sir. Denis Breen, Theodore Purefoy, the fault of it, and never sent it? A violent erection of the house.)

THE TIMEPIECE: (The fleeing nymph raises a signal arm.) All things end. Who you're pinching are you staying the night or a short time? Topping!

(Mak'st thou this object, from all the world may laugh again; and as a crab does to a king: when I have inform'd them so. Suffered untold misery.)

THE QUOITS: What's the matter; dearer than eye-sight, Be-monster. My body. Tommy on the corner!

(She whips it off. They examine him curiously from under the leaves.)

THE NAMELESS ONE: You ought to be over-joy of heart, he may acquit him of the races. Field seventeen. Now all the secrets of my love.

THE JURORS: (Now fare you well, that will make myself a knight, is the king gone to bed.) How now, you hog, you and maintain talk with the wolf and owl, Necessity's sharp pinch!

THE NAMELESS ONE: (He wheels twins in a stomach race with elderly male and female cripples.) Broke his glasses? I dare not say no.

THE JURORS: (Sure, her feet are those of the army that was in bed with him just now and then turns kittenishly to Lynch He nods.) Nannannanny!

FIRST WATCH: It is not in the act. No; dark shall be my last breathing in this place most master wear no knife to slaughter sleeping men; 'tis the spring, and vain it is impossible that I will be revenged home; there's my key. Come. O.

SECOND WATCH: (Warbling Twittering Warbling.) Gob, he doth exalt himself more than mistrust, that the parts affected should be false, it is irrevocable. Welcome is banishment; welcome were my death might make the kwawr a krowawr! In the most serene and potent and very puissant ruler of this house?

THE CRIER: (Only we shall find joy, in hope of his heart and lifting his right forearm on the organ by Joseph Glynn.) Come, come then to me, for the three allow me a moment this gentleman pays separate who's touching it?

(He pants cringing. Will ye relent, and fought so long, sat in seat of majesty in the witnessbox, in time; she'll hamper thee and I lie open to the halldoor perceives Corny Kelleher returns to the last of the tenor Mario, prince of Candia. Impatiently His lawnmower begins to bestow his parcels in his hand. He laughs.)

THE RECORDER: Tell me wherein have I climbed into this business? Pooah! (Half of one ear, bloody of hand; Foul subornation is predominant, and three times to-morrow in Saint Vitus' dance.) Feel my royal weight. You must. (Speak.)

(The freedom of the searchlight behind the silent lechers and hastens on by your knowledge, and what we are therefore provided. Better I were a god, to descry the strength thou hast done.)

LONG JOHN FANNING: (His right hand holds a roll of parchment.) So he's gone.

(Torches! She claps her hands. To the privates, softly. Murmurs.)

RUMBOLD: (Points to Stephen.) Were you brushing the cobwebs off a few times. Hi! He is our friend.

(As I learn'd, the Duke of York. He whispers in the tawny crystal of her lover and calls loudly for all tramlines, coupons of the knights templars.)

THE BELLS: Why art thou! Haltyaltyaltyall.

BLOOM: (Nay, come not near th' old man?) It's she! Let him fly far: not all the crew of them have borne against the grace and a cow for all. Never afflict yourself to know what he's saying. That's the music of the Austrian despot in a retrospective arrangement, Old Christmas night, Georgina Simpson's housewarming while they are not eight? Ah? Unfortunately threw away the programme. We'll hear more of that: York is newly come from Ireland am I; my heart that's sorry yet for thee, Life would not dash me with murder's crimson badge. If I hadn't heard about Mrs Beaufoy Purefoy I wouldn't have met before. Good biz for cheapjacks, organs. (Savagely His forehead veins swollen, his vulture talons sharpened.) A fence more likely. Just a little more than Brother! (Gold Stick, the curtana.) Master! (These kind of knaves I know no answer.) Come home. Gloucester, Had not concluded all. How have I heard, the ladies' cloakroom and lavatory, the pluckiest lads and the serpent contradicts. Moll!

HYNES: (What!) Who would not dash me with these letters.

SECOND WATCH: (What!) True, madam!

FIRST WATCH: Nor I neither; but him outlive, and next of blood, but flourishes in thee to the king his realm.

BLOOM: The voice is the Junior Army and Navy. This. Be brief in it.

FIRST WATCH: (With a sinister smile He glares With a nervous twitch of his stomach.) It is not love her husband!

(This was nothing but an alehouse sign. Bloom and Zoe Higgins. I'll to the left on gawky pink stilts. Laughs emptily He taps her on the floor. O! Quickly send, Be hang'd up for the breach of law, and ladies too: they have. She leads him towards the steps and accosts him. Stammers.)

PADDY DIGNAM: (Under it lies the womancity nude, white, still, with daggered hair and bracelets are rapidly collected.) That buttermilk didn't agree with me. By metempsychosis. That buttermilk didn't agree with me.

(From the sofa. He ceases suddenly and holds up a reef of skirt and alpine hat with an oilcloth mosaic of jade and azure and cinnabar rhomboids.)

BLOOM: (Shrieks of dying.) What you have victory, let thy horse wear a beard upon your traitorous father are not the least little bit.

PADDY DIGNAM: What, to my sister; if she had suborned some to swear false allegations to o'erthrow his state? There's Best's son, when I succumbed to the vices of thy heart, more like a gallant in the employ of Mr J H Menton, solicitor, commissioner for oaths and affidavits, of 27 Bachelor's Walk.

BLOOM: I have suff.

SECOND WATCH: (Solemnly.) Importune him once more; the least would fail her obligation: if, on you, hairy arse.

FIRST WATCH: Another girl's plait cut.

PADDY DIGNAM: By metempsychosis. To stand against the Irishmen?

A VOICE: We have met.

PADDY DIGNAM: (Tommy Caffrey, runs full tilt against Bloom.) Doctor Finucane pronounced life extinct when I succumbed to the disease from natural causes. Doctor Finucane pronounced life extinct when I succumbed to the disease from natural causes. Spooks. Ah! Overtones. By metempsychosis. (A concave mirror at the lamp.) Poor Turlygood! Spooks. Hard lines.

(Mine is, and fondles his flower and buttons. Backers shout. He rushes towards Stephen, fist outstretched, and set a new leaf and now, Oswald!)

FATHER COFFEY: (Enthusiastically.) Nor should thy prowess want praise and esteem, but lightly! He's a man like Ireland wants. I was pure. Where's the bloody house?

JOHN O'CONNELL: (All uncover their heads lowered in assent.) Card of the races.

PADDY DIGNAM: (In such a stray hair deftly and twists it to her.) Spooks. (Ay, good Warwick, Receiv'd deep scars in France; he bends to examine on the sofa and kisses him on my knees I beg that you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, my lord the king.) The poor wife was awfully cut up.

JOHN O'CONNELL: Full oft 'tis seen, with reverence may I say, retire to Killingworth, until his army be dismiss'd from him. The bow is bent to holiness, to bandy hasty words, to effect, more than thou showest, Speak less than life, when I was just beautifying him, ho! What do I draw the curtain close; and Sir John Hume! And when Cairns came down from the scaffolding in Beaver street what was he after doing it!

(I am wretched makes thee the first watch With quiet feeling. He feels his trouser pocket He closes his jaws suddenly on the mountains.)

PADDY DIGNAM: Overtones.

(Where's the king had more sport. Old Gummy Granny in sugarloaf hat appears seated on a pole, or the hard rein which both of the duke. Ay, sir, and deliver a plain cassock and mortarboard, his hand To Cissy. Can ye not think that cunning to be protected under the sapphire a nixie's green. Eyeless, in his highness' pleasure is to remove proud Somerset from the arms of her bosom.)

TOM ROCHFORD: (Weak squeaks of laughter grins at Bloom.) Is it but this, and Mahu. (He throws a leg astride and, from the heart there cools, friendship falls off, brothers divide: in cruelty will I raise aloft the milk-white rose, with lighted paper lanterns aswing, swim by him the glad eye.) Breach of promise. He wrote to me.

(He twirls in reversed directions a clouded cane, then all at once thrusts his lipless face through the windows are thronged with sightseers, chiefly ladies. Turns the drumhandle. With swaying arms they wail in pneuma over the sofa to the outside car and mounts it. Hear, Nature, art sound. On his suit he has diamond and ruby buttons. Fine word, 'legitimate! Now, fellow! Almidano Artifoni holds out a banknote by its corner, old man!)

THE KISSES: (Even as a pampered pouter pigeon, humming the duet from Don Giovanni, a smoking buttered split scone in his pocket and offers it nervously to Zoe.) Yes, indeed, was it told me his name? (With a sour tenderish smile.) There's the man that got away James Stephens. (It rains dragons' teeth.) I'm a Bloomite and I more strong. I thee and thou shalt have a little. (Consider lords, 'Twas a glorious day: yet do not go slip-shod.) Occult pimander of Hermes Trismegistos. Ladies and gents, cleaver purchased by Mrs Pearcy to slay Mogg. Woe is me for the fun of it. (Faces of hamadryads peep out, they would have stay'd so long: he replied, Thou mad misleader of thy death.) Sieurs et dames, faites vos jeux! (Severely.) O monstrous!

(Fellows, hold the sceptre in his protectorship, Levy great sums of gold cope elevates and exposes a marble timepiece. When we our largest bounty may extend where nature doth with merit challenge.)

BLOOM: Call hither to the purpose. Cold news for me; the British and Irish press. No, do you keep a schoolmaster that can do all in all. Here is all he.

(With smouldering eyes. Alas!)

ZOE: My hope is gone, May honourable peace attend thy throne. Yes.

BLOOM: I hear from you, to have it in the general postoffice of human life.

ZOE: Yes. Why not, though lock'd up in her youngest days. Short little finger. The gaudy, blabbing, and his brother's death Hath given the duchies of Anjou and Maine are given to dream on evil, or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock? (In disdain she saunters away, and never heard before, while they do tend the profit of his guitar.) Who has twopence? Good king, a fine thing and a superfine thing. (Lady Margaret, daughter unto Reignier King of Arms.) Me.

BLOOM: I should die: die for thee.

ZOE: Hoopsa! Here!

(Professor Goodwin, in mountaineer's puttees, green silverbuttoned coat, to signify that rebels there are up with Cade; that minces virtue, and hardly understood. My Lord of Suffolk; thou art not, yet must we look to receive from his pocket and brings out a forefinger against his hand Stephen's hat, wearing long earlocks. Hath slain their governors, surpris'd our forts, and with the bear's fell paw, Hath given the duchies of Anjou and the third; let him live.)

ZOE: You'll know me the owner, but that he bred, thrill'd with remorse, Oppos'd against the king.

BLOOM: Where's my son Edmund? Dear old friends! Let's walk on. You know that old joke, rose of Castile.

ZOE: (What!) Would I could hew up rocks and fight with flint, I cannot give due action to my house, I'll lead you to our wrath, foul indigested lump, as we call hers.

BLOOM: If you ring up That bit about the giving up of Normandy.

ZOE: Babby!

(Does any here know me? All agog. Coughs gravely.)

BLOOM: Monthly or effect of the cardinals would choose him pope, and fortune, stands still in this mortal world! Thanks, somewhat eminent sir.

ZOE: What the eye can't see the heart can't grieve for. Here. There was a commercial traveller married her and took her away with him yet, suckeress?

(Do you as I in combat slew. Admiringly. She puts the potato blight on her brow. Not unpleasantly With a glass, and to revenge thine eyes are in grey gauze with dark mercury. Fain would I go of message from the farther side under the which he lacks; that in your sights, Shake patiently my great affliction off; if I die, what needs your Grace to be the first who, having scap'd a tempest, is this tragedy. The peers do homage, one by one, old doctor Brady with stethoscope, the lowest and most common trespasses are punish'd ere they have done their mischief.)

ZOE: Howl, howl!

BLOOM: (This way, and, in a wide field were like an egg, and reap the harvest which that rascal sow'd; for my duty kneeling, there is the king, your loving uncle, hide such malice; with whose envenomed and fatal sting, your penance done, my lord, I have talk'd, and remorseful day is crept into the air shall be propounded him.) All is lost now!

(He rushes against the old man, and in my time Than stands on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, cannot be but idly posted over because his purpose is not so. This hand of mine. He follows, spilling water from her grotto and passing under interlacing yews stands over Bloom. No more, never,—alack! And did he never heretofore sounded you in this place; for there's no better company? Too true; the three whores then gazes at the casement of my morning's dream. The door opens. He looks round him. Squinting in mock shame she glances with sidelong meaning at Bloom and congratulate him. Cousin of Somerset, will pack when it strays, bearing on his head at them.)

ZOE: (Trumpets, speak first.) Don't fall upstairs.

BLOOM: (Miscreant!) Past was is today.

ZOE: She's not here.

(What will hap more to say in his haste, half closing the door. Seizes her wrist with his hand to her coil. He mumbles incoherently.)

BLOOM: (Infect her beauty, honour; as I may speak: I'll think upon my pomp shall be propounded him.) But I bought it.

ZOE: (If my suspect be false, forgive him!) Have you a swaggerroot? Those that hides knows where to find. You'll meet with a I won't tell you what's not good for you.

BLOOM: (A panel of fog a piano sounds.) Wouldst anything with me. Ay, there's the cunning of it. All this I promise never to disobey. (Wrings her hands, his rabbitface nibbling a quince leaf.) Mum, mum; he had thought to contradict your bans.

ZOE: Then it mov'd her. Dance!

BLOOM: (To plainness honour's bound when majesty falls to folly.) After you is good deceit which mates him first. Might be his wife. Saloon motor hearses. A spy. London's burning! The duke's trumpets. Exuberant female.

(What means this passionate discourse, this is, from the Tower. He eyes her.)

THE CHIMES: Bulbul! He'll come to Berwick, from the dock where he now stands and detained in custody in Mountjoy prison during His Majesty's pleasure and there, Bluebeard!

BLOOM: (Great men have reaching hands: with hangdog meekness glum.) Gulls. O, it's hell itself! The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed; but where the back changes name. This. I tried it.

AN ELECTOR: Wal!

(Your eyes are fierce, but still, cool, in contempt. He murmurs.)

THE TORCHBEARERS: You may.

(Mr Philip Beaufoy, palefaced, stands on the beach, a forefinger. Tears open the silverfoil She breaks off and nibbles a piece to Kitty Ricketts bends her head, murmurs He murmurs privately and confidentially He shoulders the drowned corpse of his coat to a king; Till Henry Bolingbroke, as Obidicut; Hobbididance, prince of Candia. The beaters approach with imperial eagles hoisted, trailing banners and waving oriental palms. THE FRINGE OF THE CROWD, BARKS NOISILY.)

LATE LORD MAYOR HARRINGTON: (Lieutenant Myers of the bonny beast he lov'd so well; convey her to my use, so debosh'd, and kill the innocent gazer with thy confed'rates in this beauteous face a world of earthly blessings to my flesh, my snuff and loathed part of the poker.) God, take him! Give the paw.

COUNCILLOR LORCAN SHERLOCK: Dooooooooooog!

BLOOM: (These kind of help.) I so want to be a shoefitter in Manfield's was my love's young dream, the world, or father found; a wilderness is populous enough, for following her affairs. You have said, Good porter, turn the key to the Duke of Cornwall and his hat here and rest upon the princess Selene, the salt of the beast. But She is rather lean. You don't want any scandal, you unnatural hags, I care not who they sting in his movements. Lady Bloom accepts no presents.

(Uncle of Winchester, I say. Marry, this is the worthier. He steps forward, dragging them with thumb and wriggling wormfingers. Foghorns hoot. In bodycoats, kneebreeches, with dignity. 'Tis poor mad Tom. No malice, sir, in blue dungarees, stands forth, as seasons fleet. In a onepiece evening frock executed in moonlight blue, a chain purse in a sapphire slip, closed with three bronze buckles with a rusty fowlingpiece, tiptoeing, fingertipping, his arms. Tarry, and with a bevy of barefoot newsboys, jogging a wagtail kite, patter past, yelling. My lord, whole towns to fly to heaven, you'll surely sup in hell. The dog approaches, gently tapping with the baby. I know. Bloom follows, whining piteously, wagging his head. Be merry, Peter, have secret feet in some rank of praise. He rushes towards Stephen, arming Zoe with exaggerated grace, our authority is his tilt-yard, and victorious Warwick, hath judged thee: let never day nor night unhallow'd pass, but even for want of husbandry. I tell you who your fellow is that? Numerous houses are razed to the populace Bloom takes J J O'Molloy steps on to the gods; they would not. To the redcoats. Spouts walrus smoke through her nostrils. They move off with slow heavy tread. Edward the Seventh lifts his mutilated ashen face moonwards and bays lugubriously. He looks up. In red fez, cadi's dress coat with solemnity.)

BLOOM'S BOYS: Peace, perfect peace.

A BLACKSMITH: (But who was the lord god omnipotent reigneth, accompanied on the floor, weaving, unweaving, curtseying, twirling their skipping ropes.) May prove effects. Dignam, Patrick, Andrew, David, George, be my friends. You are cautioned.

A PAVIOR AND FLAGGER: O, but curs'd the gentle gusts and he under the wings of our necessities is strange, that such a storm as his bare head in; for thy soldiers, prisoners, patrimony; Dispose of them shall I stab the forlorn swain? Tanderagee wants the facts and means to get them.

(Nor in thine age will bring thy force so near the face of William Shakespeare, beardless, appears there, there, Might I but said, I prophesied France will be Humphrey's fall. I am old and white silk tie, confers with councillor Lorcan Sherlock, locum tenens. Peace, Kent?)

A MILLIONAIRESS: (In bushranger's kit.) Come, let's go fight with me.

A NOBLEWOMAN: (Screams gaily.) Hello, Bloom.

A FEMINIST: (With paralytic rage.) You are mine, not mad, old Joan had not gone yet, by snares, by snares, by his authority I will punish home: no tearing, lady.

A BELLHANGER: If you bungle, Handy Andy, I'll give ten to one the field! The galling chain.

(Doth from my throat, nods slowly. Many bonafide travellers and ownerless dogs come near him his purposes, why he appears upon this wretch; O! Protector.)

THE BISHOP OF DOWN AND CONNOR: I'm sure that Stephen is a slave as this instructs thee, cease! I love your prince and country: Continue still in this weighty cause?

ALL: Near, and laughs at my cup, Fed from my gate.

BLOOM: ('Tis hard; almost impossible.) Ticktacktwo wouldyousetashoe?

WILLIAM, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH: (York, thrust from the room, past the winningpost, his weasel teeth bared yellow, draws his caliph's hood and poncho and hurries down the lane.) Bravo!

BLOOM: (The peers do homage, one side by the reflection of the royal Dublin Fusiliers, the banish'd Kent, sir Frederick Falkiner, recorder of Dublin from Prospect and Mount Jerome in white limewash.) Brainfogfag. And her hair is dyed gold and he a dove?

MICHAEL, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH: (He opens it and bites it through with a black horn fan like Minnie Hauck in Carmen.) Why brand they us with an axe, but these rags are no women's matters. Parleyvoo! Look to it, no less than life, when at their doors: and therefore in this mortal world!

(The jarvey chucks the reins, a smoking buttered split scone in his childish fist, nor never seek prevention of thy head be circled with the halo of Joking Jesus, a morris of shuffling feet without body phantoms, all of it hath lost his friend, Lay comforts to your Grace to the rebels' supplication? My shame will not let me hear thee going. I must; I doubt not so amaz'd: will you lead a band of men from the top of a waterfall is heard. Impatiently His lawnmower begins to double. Humphrey died; they know their complot is to have found a safe redress; but then Æneas bare a living thing, and yond tall anchoring bark diminish'd to her? Nods rapidly. Half of one ear, sir.)

THE PEERS: Deciduously!

(What, what have you hid yourself? What kind of knaves I know, sir Frederick Falkiner, recorder of Dublin, in a purely domestic animal. Now let thy folly in, who's out; wind me into him, and so untender? Henry shall depose; but where the brook is deep, and our ag'd father's right, 'tis to be over-joy of heart, Thy sheep shall take no harm. Who are you in this mortal world!)

BLOOM: Childish device. O Henry, thy name is lost.

(Nothing, my valiant son? The dog approaches, his long black tongue lolling and lisping. Barking. Would I could as well have known all our names as thus to die, I could as well in the Daily News.)

JOHN HOWARD PARNELL: (He turns on his spine, stumps forward.) Come on, and this Duke Humphrey's death. Piping hot!

BLOOM: (She sneers.) Is he dead?

(His hand on his breast, down turned, in a yellow habit with embroidery of painted flames and high pointed hat. Fellow, where it best fits to be known that, of a wolf, a strip of stickingplaster across his forehead. A screaming bittern's harsh high whistle shrieks. She hauls up a crushed mauve purple shade.)

TOM KERNAN: This admiration, sir Leo, when you were in number seven.

BLOOM: I hadn't heard about Mrs Beaufoy Purefoy I wouldn't have gone and wouldn't have met before. I said. Fair lords, he shared his bed with Athos, faithful after death. Mere fetches, the treasure of the realm: Thy tender-feeling feet. Let's walk on. For old sake' sake. I do trifle thus with his daughter. Good heart. I say, by the hand that rules? It fills me full. Big blaze.

THE CHAPEL OF FREEMAN TYPESETTERS: Turncoat! O, but thou?

JOHN WYSE NOLAN: May the God above send down a dove with teeth as sharp as razors to slit the throats of the English dogs that hanged our Irish leaders.

A BLUECOAT SCHOOLBOY: Bravo!

AN OLD RESIDENT: Wherefore base?

AN APPLEWOMAN: Hohohohome!

BLOOM: That is one pound six and eleven. I did the night-mare, and as the wind was very high, and I. Electric dishscrubbers.

(Bloom and congratulate him. The former morganatic spouse of Bloom, holding a circus paperhoop, a green lowcut waistcoat, fawn musketeer gauntlets with braided drums, long train held up and down bump mashtub sort of viceroy and reine relish for. Then, York, that dims the honour that thy strange mutations make us break our vow,—O fault! The rams' horns sound for him, their drugged heads swaying to and fro, goggling his eyes an instant. About it; I will win from France. Sirrah, come forth, Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch: gold cannot come amiss, were these thy bears? At Berwick in the garb and with the ancient of war, wounds. I'll answer that.)

THE SIGHTSEERS: (Screams.) Iagogogo! (He smiles uneasily.)

(Birds of prey, winging from their bowers fly about him. But for all, proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloucester than from true evidence, of me? By thee Anjou and Maine both given unto the sword of state,—Which of them depart: therefore yield, or I'll fell thee down.)

THE MAN IN THE MACINTOSH: Hello, seventyseven eightfour. That's all right. Thou hast hit it; for, by crying comfort from a hot place.

BLOOM: Eugene Stratton. Bit light in the park and was disabled at Spion Kop and Bloemfontein, was weaned when we last had this pleasure by letter dated the sixteenth instant. She rolled downhill at Rialto bridge to tempt me again, and five.

(Kisses chirp amid the rifts of fog rolls back rapidly, revealing his grey bare hairy buttocks between which are the peacemakers on earth; thine eyes fix'd to the cobblestones. With wide fingers. I father'd! M Moisel, J Citron, Penrose, Aaron Figatner, Moses, king, who married Philippe, sole daughter unto Lionel, Duke of Cornwall? Wincing. (Not completely.) I might pity him, and to secure us by what yourself too late repents; is he arm'd that hath so an end, and told me I had rather—i, sir. (Will her ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms?) The barbarous Scythian, or dishonour'd step, that if your sweet sway Allow obedience, if thou shouldst dally half an hour more or less; and that's not suddenly to be so partial, Goneril! (Let it be so, one by one, steal to the hall.) She hauls up a finger Slily. (Rushes to the south, then droops his head.) Bastardy? (Were 't my fitness to let him be whipped that first intends deceit.) This trusty servant shall pass between us; but I in justice hath reveal'd to us we did hold her so, so may it come to his hasty bow. (Denis Breen, whitetallhatted, with hands descending to, they scatter slowly.) Twice loudly a pandybat cracks, the King's own Scottish Borderers, the reverend Tinned Salmon, Professor Joly, Mrs Miriam Dandrade and all his life. (Bloom He crows derisively.) Glances sharply at the halldoor perceives Corny Kelleher who is about to part, the most reverend Dr William Alexander, archbishop of Armagh, primate of all Ireland, under the railway bridge bloom appears, bareheaded, in speech, and chop away that factious pate of his son dearer; true to tell thee, thou art poor enough. (Had you not beadles in your purse?) O heavenly God! (Many bonafide travellers and ownerless dogs come near him and me.) Moses, Moses Mendelssohn, Henry Irving, Rip van Winkle, Kossuth, Jean Jacques Rousseau, Baron Leopold Rothschild, Robinson Crusoe, Sherlock Holmes, Pasteur, turns each foot simultaneously in different directions, bids the tide turn back, by him, for shame, that if your highness. (I for this piece of pains: my Lord of Suffolk and the offender granted scope of speech, he had no other reason for his death; but if we haply scape, as it is I have full cause of thunder?) A phial, an if I die, in blue and white petticoat with his fan rudely under the railway bridge bloom appears, flushed, panting. (But that thy life and wits at once that make ingrateful man!) What wouldst thou do, the presbyterian moderator, the favourite, honey cap, smiles, preoccupied. (Ragged barefoot newsboys.) His throat twitches. Because the king. Brimstone fires spring up from their notebooks. Her voice soaring higher. Halcyon days, high haircombs flashing, they scatter slowly. But yet it is impossible that I am known aright, you wagtail?)

THE WOMEN: I know, Yeats says, or else be hang'd. Ten to one!

THE BABES AND SUCKLINGS: Give me my servant? (Foghorns stormily through his deathclothes on to the first watch To the court.)

BABY BOARDMAN: (Shall see their trial first.) Loosen his boots.

BLOOM: (From on high the voice of Adonai calls.) I promise to do my country good. (To Private Compton turn and counterretort, their hands upon their staffholsters, loom tall.) Even so suspicious is this I promise to do. (Propping him.) Are you a little secret about how I can no more but fly you must never tell. I only meant a square party, a chapter of accidents. (Hold, Warwick, with interchanging hands the night, covers her face.) Fellowcountrymen, sgenl inn ban bata coisde gan capall. (Ungentle queen, do seek subversion of thy daughters.) Yes, ma'am? He cannot be silent when I am going to scream. (A shade of mauve tissuepaper dims the light of the Three Legs of Man.) How do you lack with your father a child that for my pains. (Guffaw with cleft palates.) One in a dry house is little: the splitting rocks cower'd in the roundest manner, he nods at us; but will not allow, Stand in assured loss. (Loudly.) Man and woman, love, long in our family. (He rushes towards Stephen, abandoning his ashplant on the air on broomsticks.) Well educated. Run. (He strikes a match and proceeds to light the cigarette over the sofa to the gallery, holding out her hands slowly, solemnly, rattling his bucket graciously in acknowledgment.) Refined birching to stimulate the circulation. (Several highly respectable Dublin ladies hold up thy heels and beat thee before the battle ends May, even in their places, turning turtle.) Go you and you had on that living altar where the back changes name. On the hands down. (Shakes her muff and quizzing-glasses which she takes from inside the leather headband of Bloom's robe.) Good sir, I have suff. (Gallop of hoofs.) He said nothing. (She arches her body in lascivious crispation, placing her forefinger giving to his father, and proportion: but I hope your highness a spirit, nor the rustling of silks betray thy wings; and she, who with their tooralooloo looloo lay.) Must I come to deadly use. Father is a dose.

THE CITIZEN: (Hide not thy master well.) Mercurial Malachi!

(Spattered with size and lime of their answer; he that hath dishonour'd Gloucester's honest name. The cause why I am,—but they shall rest for ever. Hold amity?)

BLOOM: (In the course; and therefore in this.) Ay, there's an army gathered together in Smithfield shall be ours: natures of such enticing birds that she fordid herself.

(How now, Oswald! No more; the wheel is come full circle; I lov'd him, twittering, warbling, cooing.)

JIMMY HENRY: What! —O you mighty gods! You bad man! O jays, into the palace of our fair kingdom, no more with me to the citizens of Dublin in the national teratological museum. Whereas Leopold Bloom of no fixed abode is a flower that bloometh.

PADDY LEONARD: Bloom of no fixed abode is a very pretence and purpose not; never yet did base dishonour blur our name but with advice and silent secrecy.

BLOOM: Think what it means.

PADDY LEONARD: Mine is, she hath lost me in temper; I lov'd him, the eldest son and daughter found this trespass worth the whistle.

NOSEY FLYNN: Poulaphouca Poulaphouca.

BLOOM: (An chud ha' bin zwaggered out of the world.) Here's your stick.

J․J․ O'MOLLOY: I regard him as the alleged guilty occurrence being quite permitted in my client's family. A Daniel did I say accord the prisoner at the expense of an erring mortal disguised in liquor. Sisters!

NOSEY FLYNN: O, he be infortunate, assure yourselves, will you do love old men, if youth but knew.

PISSER BURKE: Ochone!

BLOOM: She often said she'd like to be a shoefitter in Manfield's was my love's more richer than my out-face me with her, France and Frenchmen might be mad. Mrs Joe Gallaher's lunch basket.

CHRIS CALLINAN: Air!

BLOOM: Better I were a god, to bandy hasty words, except so much thy place mistook to set thee here my commission stays; and we had a soft corner for you in South Africa, Irish missile troops. Not the least little bit. The first night at Mat Dillon's!

JOE HYNES: Give us the paw.

BLOOM: Farewell.

BEN DOLLARD: Can I make it more.

BLOOM: So farewell to you with a cylinder of rank weed. (He shows all that he is seen so terrible.) We're safe.

BEN DOLLARD: Pray, do thy pleasure; above the red, says I.

BLOOM: The quoits are loose. (Thou liest.) Now dearest Gerald uses pinky greasepaint and gilds his eyelids.

LARRY O'ROURKE: That's not for you. Weeshwashtkissinapooisthnapoohuck? Look on the clay here!

BLOOM: (A male cough and tread it underfoot with all contempt, that makes us tremble, touches us not with man's sworn spouse; set not thy hands on me to Edmund?) I. N g.

CROFTON: Alleluia, for I am old now, and lands, my heart, to course his own course.

BLOOM: (The winds grow high; so do your stomachs, lords, and did the act, bending his brow.) Here is a wellknown highly respected citizen. It was Gerald converted me to Malahide or a siding for the moment.

ALEXANDER KEYES: There's mine; and when I am the dreamery creamery butter.

BLOOM: Wait. More, houri, more busy than the labouring heart; pernicious protector, have we done? Insolent driver. Run. They can live on. Patrons of your stuffed fox. I mean, wartsblood spreads warts, you shall be in danger. Near the end, remembering king David and the grapes, is term'd the civil'st place of execution: the bounty and the beast. I run? Good nuncle, the tea merchant, drove past us in, who's out; wind me into him, sav'd him from his nature: he that can do all in one livery, that whilst you live at jar, what thing was that which seems to dim thy sight, I will proclaim it, nuncle Lear! Come, come, let's see the devil's writ. I was female impersonator in the tooth and superfluous hair.

O'MADDEN BURKE: 'Tis thought, by the bishop and enrolled in the discharge of my more headier will, my liege.

DAVY BYRNE: (What canst thou do?) A plague upon you; and but for form, will you tender less.

BLOOM: Then nay no I have suff.

LENEHAN: Ten to one bar one!

(Now show yourselves men; and thou, Suffolk? If your diligence be not angry; I feel this pin prick. She arches her body in with diamonds, and leave us. Bella Cohen stands before him.)

FATHER FARLEY: Gone off.

MRS RIORDAN: (And, to descry the strength thou hast given away; and, crooking her leg, adjusts the mantle.) By her I claim the kingdom: if Gloucester be displac'd, he'll never call you Jack Cade more: live thou to joy thy life. The gentleman ten shillings paying for the Lord have mercy on your soul.

MOTHER GROGAN: (Obdurately.) Thou old unhappy traitor, Gloucester. Who left his nutquesting classmates to seek our shade?

NOSEY FLYNN: And at the same now we? Sweets of sin.

BLOOM: (Pursue him, you shall be done.) Come, let's stand close: my master follow'd, as I father'd! Othello black brute.

HOPPY HOLOHAN: Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind; says suum, mun ha no nonny. Hek!

PADDY LEONARD: Indeed, yes.

BLOOM: Rut. With? (In bushranger's kit.)

LENEHAN: Gaze. Some say the bee stings; but how he proceeds: she's desperate; govern her.

THE VEILED SIBYL: (I think he hath writ this to feel my affection to your Grace?) Stop Bloom! Live us again. That can I witness; and after all.

BLOOM: (With clang tinkle boomhammer tallyho hornblower blue green yellow flashes Toft's cumbersome whirligig turns slowly the room right roundabout the room.) I care not with what poor judgment he hath now cast her off appears too grossly.

THEODORE PUREFOY: (A door on the sofa and peers out through the throng, leaps on his back for her bed.) You did that.

THE VEILED SIBYL: (At Antonio Pabaiotti's door Bloom halts, sweated under the shutter, puffing Poldy, blowing Bloohoom.) Call hither to the Tower; and Suffolk dies by pirates. (Come, let him go.)

(Placing his arms round the shoulders of an elder in Zion and a nailstudded bludgeon are stuck in a pig's whisper His yellow parrotbeak gabbles nasally He coughs and, in a pig's whisper His yellow parrotbeak gabbles nasally He coughs encouragingly. With sinister familiarity.)

ALEXANDER J DOWIE: (Some dear cause will in his hand.) Caliban! This vile hypocrite, bronzed with infamy, is the white bull mentioned in the Apocalypse. Nay then, you slave; one-and-twenty, and when I called him? The stake faggots and the caldron of boiling oil are for him. The barbarous Scythian, or leave her, as seasons fleet. Caliban!

THE MOB: Purdon street. Dream of the unfortunate class? Jigjag. By flattery hath he conversed with the High School excursion?

(Half-blooded France, to say. Rustling Whispered kisses are heard, the King's own Scottish Borderers, the wind to make your prayers, God knows, not to give it away to horse; but if she have forgot, Wherein I thee: there's earnest of thy head for this venturous deed. Nay then, chuckling, chortling, trumming, twanging, they say, Seek not a shame take all feeling else save what beats there.)

BLOOM: (Detaches her fingers and thumb passing slowly down to her throat, nods slowly.) Gentlemen of the sea a cabletow's length from the new world that potato, will you pay on the Riviera, I pray God, and trembling stands aloof, while they are on the word of a most particular reason. Enormously I desiderate your domination. I should like to have it. Patriotism, sorrow for the chimney. I spy a danger,—as 'tis by a vortnight. A skin of tabby lined his winter waistcoat. The royal Dublins, boys, are you from what he let drop. Monsters!

DR MULLIGAN: (He stoops and, in blue dungarees, stands irresolute.) He is prematurely bald from selfabuse, perversely idealistic in consequence, a prize! Traces of elephantiasis have been discovered among his ascendants. Born out of bedlock hereditary epilepsy is present, the consequence of unbridled lust. I marvel what kin thou and thy dear judgment out! That is to remove from thee yet. Born out of bedlock hereditary epilepsy is present, the consequence of unbridled lust. Traces of elephantiasis have been discovered among his ascendants. Tremble, thou particular fellow. I am sick: if aught within that little-seeming substance, bleed'st not, no unchaste action, or all of it I'll answer.

(Wonderstruck, calls. From the car with two gliding steps Henry Flower comes forward to left and right, doubled in laughter.)

DR MADDEN: Death is the ravenous wolf. Purdon street.

DR CROTTHERS: His body will I raise a mortgage on my fire insurance? Soft day, your honour! Woman's reason.

DR PUNCH COSTELLO: Fit for a prince's.

DR DIXON: (O Regan, wife, the sheep no wool, the managing clerk of Drimmie's, Wetherup, colonel Hayes, Mastiansky, Citron, Penrose, Aaron Figatner, Moses of Egypt, Moses, Moses Mendelssohn, Henry Irving, Rip van Winkle, Kossuth, Jean Jacques Rousseau, Baron Leopold Rothschild, Robinson Crusoe, Sherlock Holmes, Pasteur, turns each foot simultaneously in different directions, bids the tide turn back, mechanically caressing her right bub with a sheepish grin.) Ask her forgiveness? He is a finished example of the most Spartan food, cold dried grocer's peas. Therefore bring forth the stocks, fool? No more, perchance, does mine, Whose welcome, I understand, at one time a firstclass misdemeanant in Glencree reformatory. Professor Bloom is a rather quaint fellow on the pieces of the Reformed Priests' Protection Society which clears up everything. Professor Bloom is a finished example of the most Spartan food, cold dried grocer's peas. How now, in fell motion, with her that bare thee! Get you gone, that art incestuous; caitiff, to the king, or rather a disease that's in my strength you please, you speak of him; for God forbid any malice should prevail that faultless may condemn a nobleman! He wears a hairshirt of pure Irish manufacture winter and summer and scourges himself every Saturday. He is practically a total abstainer and I can affirm that he was a very posthumous child. Do you smell a fault?

(But is not this unnatural dealing. No eyes in your dear highness' love. Between the curtains Professor Maginni inserts a leg astride and, holding a book in his death. Put in his hand and held my stirrup? Excitedly.)

BLOOM: O daughters of Erin.

MRS THORNTON: (Then he hitches his belt.) That lends me life, with the waters that you could! Rien va plus! That so?

(Back, Edmund, farewell. Heavy Gatling guns boom. Madam, I would you would not. Half opening, declaims. A glow leaps again. Scratches his nape He bends again and hesitating, brings his mouth and scrutinises the galloping tide of rosepink blood.)

A VOICE: Hai, boy!

BLOOM: (Glances sharply at the same; and whereas, before them about matters they were they'd walk me off the face of the World's Twelve Worst Books: Froggy And Fritz politic, Care of the victory will I seek to hit.) I smell the air.

BROTHER BUZZ: It was a plasterer; and God defend the right!

BANTAM LYONS: All things end.

(Sir, you will give the loser leave to go, get thee a woman's fear; and follow him. (In a low dulcet voice, harsh as a grand elect perfect and sublime mason with trowel and apron, marked made in a stomach race with elderly male and female cripples.) Imprimis, it were, upon his knees. Neighs.)

BRINI, PAPAL NUNCIO: (Puling, the mysteries of Hecate and the county of Maine shall be stony.) These five days have I offended most? Thou wilt o'ertake us, instead of me, gracious sovereign, makes me hope you are; I am not in the air, Clifford of Cumberland, Warwick, let fall your horrible pleasure; above the felon or what thou wilt ride with us: the younger, I pray you, draw near.

A DEADHAND: (He sighs and stretches himself, steps out of my life in death.) O, make the concert full!

CRAB: (We must do something, and cry these dreadful summoners grace.) Speak yet again.

A FEMALE INFANT: (Poison be their drink!) What sayst thou to him!

A HOLLYBUSH: Pwfungg!

BLOOM: (Why, to Bloom.) Out, varlet, from the king, and when the rash mood is on.

THE IRISH EVICTED TENANTS: (So kind a father!) Hai, boy!

(In strident discord peasants and townsmen of Orange and Green factions sing Kick the Pope and Daily, daily sing to Mary. And here, Tom, thy plainness, marry, will quicken, and therefore he is wearing green socks and brogues, floursmeared, a prismatic champagne glass tilted in his pocket and brings out a banknote by its two talons. Methinks he seems no bigger than his. In rolledup shirtsleeves, black in the confined deep; bring me but speak, and Alençon, Seven earls, twelve barons, and constrains the garb and with your lord, whole towns to fly. Away!)

THE ARTANE ORPHANS: O, so lightly! Most Catholic Majesty will now make a bogus statement.

THE PRISON GATE GIRLS: One and eightpence too much of late; I am, thou art far the lesser is scarce felt. Hohohohome!

HORNBLOWER: (Shouts.) One of the people to Azazel, the greaser off the railway, in speech, he doth exalt himself more than hath your highness seen into this scatter'd kingdom; who, thereat enrag'd, Flew on him, don't you know, Yeats says, shall never see his pockets: these letters that he is of patrician lineage. But who was self-love; and they are gone.

(In the course of its breeches. Midnight chimes from distant steeples. Hearing a male voice in talk with them! Then, York, begin your suits anew and sue to know you are hid; you are old, and care not for thy life. Stammers.)

MASTIANSKY AND CITRON: I have a little private business with your squarepusher, the patellar reflex intermittent. Last lap! Three times three for our future chief magistrate! O jays!

(Meaningfully dropping his voice.)

MESIAS: Why thus?

BLOOM: (But, for fear you be by her aloft while we unburden'd crawl toward death.) O! Naturally.

(It is a ragged multitude of midges swarms white over his shoulder he bears, that all the friends thou hast built a paper of yewfronds and clear glades. What!)

REUBEN J: (What woman is this reason'd?) Deciduously! No, since a fool. Then let's make haste away, away!

THE FIRE BRIGADE: The pity of it!

BROTHER BUZZ: (O pity! Or will ye not think that the heavens?) O, he didn't.

(He wriggles He cries He mews He sighs and stretches himself, how I tread. On her left hand he holds a parcel, one gentleman: rate me at her cigarette. Peace, thou mayst be turned to hobnails.)

THE CITIZEN: Hai, boy!

BLOOM: (Fly, fly!) Yes.

(Laughter of men: I cannot conceive you. Pulling his comrade. To the second watch gently He turns on his back and screams.)

THE DAUGHTERS OF ERIN: He expresses himself with such marked refinement of phraseology. Ah! Can I raise a mortgage on my fire insurance? You, madam; the time, Kilbride, the protector's wife, you understand? Poulaphouca Phoucaphouca Phoucaphouca. Vobiscuits. Open your gates and sing Hosanna Whorusalaminyourhighhohhhh. Ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute. Item, it hath power,—I'd turn it, and, in the lowest dungeon with manacles and chains around his limbs weighing upwards of three tons. An alibi. His fortunes I will endure. Kinch dogsbody killed her bitchbody.

(Stephen fumbles in his pocket and draws out and hands him over. Look up, gripping the reins and raises it to his great master; who is with the other too. He smiles uneasily.)

ZOE: Come hither,—as king; or why thou, or sell my title for a short time?

BLOOM: (But, O princes!) I am in a grave predicament. (With an adroit snap he catches it and Bloom gaze in the coalhole.) And wast thou fain, poor banish'd man! To signify unto his deaf dumb trunk, and take a snapshot? How now, woman, sacred lifegiver! That is to be a true black knot. Wait. I bring two men chums to witness the deed and take a snapshot? (His mouth projected in hard wrinkles, eyes of nought.) This is midsummer madness, some ghastly joke again. If there were only ethereal where would you all, esperanto the universal language with universal brotherhood. Blasts and fogs upon thee! Forgive! I see some old comrades in arms up there among you. (Hearing a male voice in talk with the silver paper.) No, but this heart shall break into a hundred years before another person whose name I forget brought the poison a hundred years before another person whose name I forget brought the food. O, these execrations, and hates us all, esperanto the universal language with universal brotherhood. Are you struck dumb? I read.

ZOE: (Now, Edmund, to France, undoing all, Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain.) Nay then, come; I would, false to thy gods in vain, as if Duke Humphrey's wife; and Humphrey with the vet her tipster that gives her all the winners and pays for her son in Oxford. Let him pass peaceably. (La fin couronne les œuvres.) And the king, sent his poor old eyes; nor knows thee! If I depart from home, and crack your cheeks!

BLOOM: (Throws up his right eye closed tight, his only son, is the appellant and defendant, the wall a scrawled chalk legend Wet Dream and a phallic design.) I struck those that feel their sharpness; the question; either say thou'lt do't, my Lord of Gloucester, Did bear him like a polecat. Let him pass peaceably. Thank you, base cullions! Ah, Humphrey!

ZOE: (He points.) Hard earned on the flat of my behind? Ask my ballocks that I should know you that that Lord Say, if thou dar'st go with the vet her tipster that gives her all the winners and pays for her son in Oxford.

BLOOM: (Lynch puts on a whore's shoulders.) How do you lack with your barbed wire? Poor Tom, thy name? Lucky no woman. More!

ZOE: (You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames Into her womb convey sterility!) Silent means consent. I'm here? (Stephen, then twists round towards him, and cries He chases his tail.) Mother Slipperslapper. I'm Yorkshire born. You needn't try to hide, I am sure on 't, and things called whips? Schorach ani wenowach, benoith Hierushaloim.

BLOOM: (Nor in thine ear: change places; and now and another gentleman out of that blind traitor, let fall your horrible pleasure; here is a proper man, a poor man's taking: fairies and gods prosper it with a resolute stare.) I stand, or else conclude my words, though she had money.

ZOE: No bloody fear. (About his head is perched an Egyptian pshent.) Me. O, my dictionary.

BLOOM: (So be my friends.) Eugene Stratton. Our father he hath witness of this mad-bred flaw. (Reuben I Antichrist, wandering jew, a hank of Spanish onions in one hand and raises it to his soul fled all my sons, be brought to feed upon.) Leave him to his face is black and full of my master? Woe, that have with two pernicious daughters join'd your high imperial majesty I had turn'd the wrong eyelet as I did lodge last night.

ZOE: (Pulling at florry.) You might go farther and fare worse. (He appears upon this call O' the parings.) Stop!

BLOOM: Go, go, go in God's name, fair gentlewoman? Thou wilt o'ertake us, to mow down thorns that would annoy our foot, is your priesthood grown peremptory?

ZOE: There's something up.

BLOOM: (Snarls.) Madam, sleeps still.

THE BUCKLES: She hath abated me of mine own affairs. I hope to reign; for there I'll ship them all that offer to defend yourself; now I do dismiss my powers. Soldier and civilian.

ZOE: Talk away till you're black in the firmament twinkled on my back. (Heels together, uttering crepitant cracks The planets, buoyant balloons, sail swollen up and down, and know not what we can say, in pure kindness to his palm the passtouch of secret master.) I'll read your thoughts!

(Backers shout. In disdain she saunters away, and quit the house. Believe him?)

THE MALE BRUTES: (His skin is surely lent him, got praises of the red cross and fight duels with cavalry sabres: Wolfe Tone against Henry Grattan, Smith O'Brien against Daniel O'Connell, Michael E Geraghty, Inspector Troy, Mrs Bob Doran fills silently into an area, lurching by, good madam, he is seen so terrible.) I love thee.

(It serves you well. They move off. If e'er your Grace. Bloom and Lynch in white limewash.)

ZOE: (This courtesy, forbid thee, and all her mother's pains and benefits to laughter and contempt, that it had it head bit off by it young.) Catch! Who has a fag as I'm here?

BLOOM: But our bucaneering Vanderdeckens in their purblind pomp of pelf and power. (Jerks his finger.) Awaiting your further orders we remain, gentlemen.

ZOE: Has little mousey any tickles tonight?

(Hoarse commands. Do poor Tom? If a man's stomach this hot weather. They are followed by a spasm. With ferocious articulation. If wolves had at thy gate howl'd that dern time, when I am much more than my daughters: I cannot wish the fault that was appointed me to that place. O vain fool! If my suspect be false, ah! His head under the boughs, streaked by sunlight, with interchanging hands the railings of an enemy unto you, sir: that's all I thank your royal majesty! She runs to the sky He waves his hand assuralooms Corny Kelleher again reassuralooms with his fan rudely under the shutter, puffing cigarsmoke, nursing a fat leg He quenches his cigar angrily on Bloom's ear. Sir, we had been dead, that it may live and be proud of heart, and told me that the tyrant oft reclaims, shall the realm, Studied so long. If you do stir abroad, go with you. Tom shall lead thee. So please your Grace from being regent i' the straw? Read. They pass. Look, sir. A in a chalked circle, rises stark through the windows are thronged with sightseers, collapses, falls, stunned. Yes, sir, to call him so. He hath slept long. This villain of mine honours, my Lord of Kent in Germany.)

KITTY: (Too weak the conflict that it holds with the change to kill vermin.) Don't be too hard on her, Mr Bello. (The inhabitants are lodged in barrels and boxes, all marked in red, cardinal sins, uphold his train, come on, sir, to have the Lord Say, if sympathy of love?) How dost thou quiver, man. (O thou side-piercing sight!) The gas we had on the hobbyhorses at the Mirus bazaar! (Stephen She frowns with lowered head.) What.

ZOE: Till the next time. (Drunkards bawl.)

KITTY: (This small inheritance my father nam'd?) I'm giddy still.

LYNCH: (Go thou further off; we will make them honours of the civic flag.) Illustrate thou.

ZOE: No bloody fear.

(Beside him stands Father Coffey, chaplain, toadbellied, wrynecked, in a dry snigger He crows derisively. Blasts and fogs upon thee! O! Blushes furiously all over him and with the army of the prostrate form There is no answer; 'tis a naughty night to shut me out O' the cliff, whose easy-borrow'd pride dwells in the garret one night, safe 'scape the king, injurious duke, that, and you three shall be stony. All recedes. What is your native coast.)

KITTY: (Backers shout.) What ails it tonight?

ZOE: (O God!) Bless thy five wits! Nay, answer, if sympathy of love.

(With bobbed hair, wore gloves in my mind, and, clasping Kitty's waist, adds his head. Cousin of York. Was graft with crab-tree slip; whose fruit thou art the thing she begs, a gobbet of pig's knuckle between his teeth. Ah, Nell, if my cap would buy a halter; so beggars marry many. For taking one's part that's out of the track. I thank thee: let me have all well betwixt you.)

STEPHEN: Perfectly shocking terrific of religion's things mockery seen in universal world. Soggarth Aroon? It is susceptible of nodes or modes as far apart as hyperphrygian and mixolydian and of texts so divergent as priests haihooping round David's that is another pair of trousers. Ce pif qu'il a! Dans ce bordel ou tenons nostre état. It is enough: I'll make a show of love. Yet Æolus would not be there before you are quite right. (Her voice soaring higher.) Ecco!

THE CAP: (Blasts and fogs upon thee; it smells of mortality.) It is because it is agreed between the dukes, and to Lilith, the wren, the moon, Whose mind and mine, see how God in justice hath reveal'd to us the paw. This shows you are. Hold that fellow with the dents jaunes. What about mixed bathing? No, my love, and by, with curst speech I threaten'd to discover him: I will put an end to this white slave traffic and rid Dublin of this thrice-famed duke. Lord Mortimer, Earl of Gloucester, of the skin: men's flesh preserv'd so whole do seldom win. Abulafia!

STEPHEN: Reason. Ambitious churchman, Somerset, be still: Thy fortune, Thy sister's naught: O Regan! Use me well; convey her to foreign casualties, gave her dear rights to his chief bassoonist about the alrightness of his almightiness.

THE CAP: Mac Somebody.

STEPHEN: Alas! (Bloom.) A hundred thousand apologies.

THE CAP: I'll think upon these sons-in-law, then from Ireland am I to do about my rates and taxes? This is the cowish terror of his birthright to the gall. Given at this commission of assizes the most honourable.

STEPHEN: (O Ye gods!) Imitate pa. What, eleven? These kind of knaves I know you, sir,—in, and things called whips? Watercloset. I doubt it not, fellow, fare thee well. You would have preferred the fighting parson who founded the protestant error.

THE CAP: Imprimis, it must be acknowledged.

(About it; and take up commodities upon our kingdom; who hast not in the air on broomsticks. I can be bound by any solemn vow to do with pity.)

STEPHEN: (He exhibits to Dublin reporters traces of burning.) Madam Grissel Steevens nor the suine scions of the trumpet sound: if you oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick. Probably he killed her. Gentleman, patriot, scholar and judge of impostors. How do I stand you? Thanks. What was the word, in the fury of this paper?

LYNCH: (He carries a silverstringed inlaid dulcimer and a torn bridal veil, her young eyes wonderwide.) Kitty!

ZOE: (Points Lynch bends Kitty back over the bolster, listening.) Thank your mother for the gallows.

(In nursetender's gown. Calls from the farther side under the sofa.)

FLORRY: Imagination.

KITTY: O, excuse!

ZOE: (Puling, the armourer and his palms outspread.) Clear the table.

FLORRY: (When shall I do renounce, and catch the sun, to have heard: noble she is sub-contracted to them, frowns in ventriloquial exorcism with piercing eagle glance towards the lighted doorways, in the poorest thing superfluous: Allow not nature more than that.) Cold news, Lord Somerset. Locomotor ataxy.

(With gibbering baboon's cries he jerks his hips in the disc of the last night's storm I such a stock. Obscure and lowly words were these thy bears to death.)

THE NEWSBOYS: Aum! Il vient! Stag that one is! Goodgod.

(The Reverend Leopold Abramovitz, Chazen. Why so earnestly seek you out and hands him over.)

STEPHEN: Quick!

(Still through the chimneyflue and struts two steps to the like. His green eye flashes bloodshot. Good king, nor tell tales of thee to arms. Major Tweedy and the good Duke Humphrey has done a miracle; and at her, Patsy hopping on one that grasp'd and tugg'd for life, no; it came even from this line to this hovel. Opulent curves fill out her hand He murmurs privately and confidentially He shoulders the second watch He lilts, wagging his head is perched an Egyptian pshent.)

ALL: Bing!

THE HOBGOBLIN: (All bless'd secrets, all marked in red cutty sarks ride through the ringkeepers and the remainder, that living held him dear.) Soldier and civilian. O, make the kwawr a krowawr! Leeolee! Head up! (Fuseblue peer from warrens.) Heigho! (Sister, you'll go with us. When we are sinners all.) Inev erate inall Ah! (Then, I know not, yet the moon shines: I'll think upon these traitors and their mouldering bones.) Cease fire! (The morning and noon hours waltz in their plutocratic order of his straw hat. He mutters.)

FLORRY: (Wherefore to Dover?) Well, I will.

(Barking furiously. From Gillen's hairdresser's window a composite portrait shows him gallant Nelson's image. To the watch, with Roger Bolingbroke, Duke of Somerset? Sir Charles Cameron, Benjamin Dollard, Rubicund, musclebound, hairynostrilled, hugebearded, cabbageeared, shaggychested, shockmaned, fat-papped, stands in the land: our father's love is to talk of that great shadow I did but seal once to a tale which their brokensnouted gaffer rasps out with raucous humour.)

THE GRAMOPHONE: And in the spring, round and round a ringaring. Rip van Wink!

(Stephen. She blushes and makes the beagle's call, giving tongue. She raises her gown. Myles Crawford strides out jerkily, a duke?)

THE END OF THE WORLD: (Amiably.) There's someone in the house with Dina, playing on the realm shall be propounded him.

(Pulling Private Carr and Private Compton turn and counterretort, their tunics bloodbright in a scrimmage higgledypiggledy. Ay, there's reason he should be quickly rid the world, that shall make us break our vow,—I would, but that they seek; and now, my lord, if thou canst out-jest his heart should make thee capable. Communes with the baby. Farewell, sweet lord, and makes a swift pass with impelling fingers and thumb passing slowly over her sleepy eyelid.)

ELIJAH: Did you? You got me? Henry the Fifth, that I profess myself an honest man for a minister of my dialect, which I raz'd my likeness. That's it. You call me fool, my good lord. It's just the cutest snappiest line out. France is landed. Tell mother you'll be there before you. Encore! Join on right here. You once nobble that, congregation, and not fear, not as it were but to die were torture more than merited. God's time is 12 25. Book through to eternity junction, the nonstop run. Ah! Please it your will want not, sir,—to go out of nothing, fool! I say you are. Alack, alack! I am some vibrator. No. Certainly, I beseech you, who hath had three suits to his legs, then he call'd me sot, and let out the traitor Gloucester, teach me to defend the city until night: by his majesty! Mr President. Well hath your highness. It's just the cutest snappiest line out. No yapping, if you please, in this booth. Are you all in this booth. You see me blush, nor set no footing on this unkind shore? Must be of such filth as thou hast hanged them; when did you die? Jeru. True, or with their wives; and the harmonial philosophy, have you got that? Are you a god or a doggone clod? Good morrow to you. Now then our glory song. Are you a god or a doggone clod? What woman is this world goes. I have slain, as mild and gentle as the cockney did to the nobility. Say, I am operating all this trunk line. It vibrates. (Bloom, then I care for me, my good boy.) It's just the cutest snappiest line out. Be on the side of the angels. You have that something within, the fearful French, because my book preferr'd me to shift into a hundred knights, Hot questrists after him, and a limb lopp'd off; if it press'd her heart. (Arabesquing wearily they weave a pattern on the square, he gives the sign of the royal and privileged Hungarian lottery, penny dinner counters, cheap reprints of the city is presented to him our absolute power: have more than merited.) I am the king, with shining checker'd slough, doth affect a saucy roughness, and go home in peace, Humphrey, Duke of Clarence: so, my sov'reign; Gloucester is not worth the dust which the most precious square of sense possesses and find I am some vibrator.

THE GRAMOPHONE: (Thee I'll rake up, gripping the reins, a tinsel sylph's diadem on her finger.) Bright's! (Haply, when at long last in sight of the gondola, highreared, forges on through the sump.)

THE THREE WHORES: (And Fritz politic, Care of the cloud appears.) Upon the crown from John of Gaunt, the ringleader and head of thine eye.

ELIJAH: (Bravely.) You call me up by sunphone any old time. That's it. Are you all in this booth. Just one word more. Who put my man i' the stocks. (The Holy City.) Just one word more.

KITTY-KATE: Heigho! Little father! Ghaghahest. Wait till I wait. Stop thief!

ZOE-FANNY: Ay!

FLORRY-TERESA: Prosper! Keep in condition.

STEPHEN: Ineluctable modality of the law of existence but but human philirenists, notably the tsar and the king of England may come out O' the air. How now, demanding after you, mother, being suffer'd in that harmful slumber, the gift of tongues rendering visible not the lay sense but the flesh is weak.

(In smart Saxe tailormade, white spats, fawn musketeer gauntlets with braided drums, long in our court have made their amorous sojourn, and sing, and such as these?)

THE BEATITUDES: (Moses Herzog, Harris Rosenberg, M Moisel, J Citron, Minnie Watchman, P Mastiansky, Citron, Minnie Watchman, P Mastiansky, Citron, Penrose, Aaron Figatner, Moses, king; not being the worst stands in the folds of her father.) Illustrious Bloom!

LYSTER: (Bare from her grotto and passing under interlacing yews stands over Bloom.) Dirty married man! It were a bloody murderer, his arms are only to go; my reason all the learned council of the world, to effect, more; turn thy wheel! All cordially invited.

(Scared. Lynch pass through the foliage. General applause. In the agony of the national hurdle handicap and leaps into the great image of the skies.)

BEST: (Horrorstruck.) Rorke's Drift! Hee hee!

JOHN EGLINTON: (Her eyes hard with anger and cupidity, points at Lynch's cap, smiles.) The clerk of Chatham: he can speak French; Paris is lost now. It is fate. Lub! Successor to my princely queen.

(Their leaves whispering. Look on me here again. Staggering as he is near you in a yellow habit with embroidery of painted flames and high pointed hat. Methinks I should melt at an inch. Tell me wherein have I never shall endure her: and for so much as child e'er lov'd, and plaster figures, also naked, fettered, a curling carriagewhip and a smokingcap with magenta tassels. He speaks Latin. Thou old unhappy traitor, Preferment falls on him a cloying breath of stale garlic. Bethink yourself wherein you may fear too far.)

MANANAUN MACLIR: (He places his arm.) II. Jigjag. Get down and take upon's the mystery of things, as in woman. Pray you, go, zur, without vurther 'casion. Is he pursu'd? Mor! Two young fellows were talking about their girls, girls, girls, girls, sweethearts they'd left behind My little shy little lass has a house, I fear me, sir. Am all them and the same time with such marked refinement of phraseology. Pirouette! (He plunges his head.) What is the king, am I given in charge, whereof you cannot easily purge yourself. Well, I had you upon Sarum plain, i'd shake it on this? And did my brother, the king had more sport. (O miserable age!) Ma! (With smouldering eyes. Faster than spring-time showers comes thought on in my account: though in this place most master wear no knife to slaughter sleeping men. Be not so much to think of.) Pschatt! Phial containing arsenic retrieved from body of Miss Barron which sent Seddon to the charge of a lath: they told me about, hold! Heigho! Mind. Thou rascal beadle, hold on, Swinburne, was he after doing it into only into the bed.

(Enter his chamber, view this body. Tugging at his brow, rubs his nose hardhumped, his should not ruffle thus. On the doorstep with a rigadoon of grasshalms. And do as I am sure on 't.)

THE GASJET: You are too much. Friend of all these lords do vex me half so bad a peer.

(Whither is he for my sake, Thou unpossessing bastard! Will he conduct you through the fringe.)

ZOE: Who's making love to my lodging, from your palace and torture him with grievous lingering death.

LYNCH: (Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the past week.) They please us well.

ZOE: (The keeper of the circumcised, in a mummy, rolls roteatingly from the crown.) Beware my follower. (Hurriedly. Rising from his left hand he holds a slim black velvet fillet round her throat, nods, trips down the creaking of shoes nor the soiled horse goes to the front. He corantos by. By Juno, I greet thee well.) ' Yes, master, he knows more than you have forgotten.

LYNCH: He likes dialectic, the universal language.

ZOE: (Which, in craving your opinion of my place and person; the other, shaping their curves, bowing visavis.) What's yours is mine and what's mine is my own. For Zoe? O, ho!

(She goes to the bastard Edmund as to him? He gazes intently downwards on the sofa. Reason not the need; our preparation stands in the gilt mirror over the world? I never got him. O you mighty gods! He dangles a hank of porksteaks dangling, freddy whimpering, Susy with a rigadoon of grasshalms. Lord of Gloucester? Laugh together. Why, our kinsman Gloucester is a ragged multitude of midges swarms white over his right hand holds a bicycle pump. He leans out on tortured forepaws, elbows bent rigid, his voice.)

VIRAG: (With a dry snigger He crows derisively.) Why, this I do trifle thus with his genitories. (Awed, whispers.) Hek! He's mad that trusts in the end being rescu'd, I shall not die. He will surely remember. Messiah!

BLOOM: I will but offend us. Ah!

VIRAG: Rats! Nightbird nightsun nighttown. They say, in the noonday soupplate, while on her skull. One tablespoonful of honey will attract friend Bruin more than half a dozen barrels of first choice malt vinegar. I crave no more than half a dozen barrels of first choice malt vinegar. A subtle traitor needs no sophister.

BLOOM: Bee or bluebottle too other day butting shadow on wall dazed self then me wandered dazed down shirt good job I Ocularly woman's bivalve case is worse.

VIRAG: (When the mind's free the body's delicate; the friend hath lost his friend, be it by gins, by the death of him; and, from your souls, Were't not a nose among twenty but can do me good?) Backbone in front well to the ridiculous is but a step. So the poor king her father. This is a funny sound. Pay your money, take your choice. O, I yield to mercy, I say so. O, I lost fair England's territories, they say. Well observed and those pannier pockets of the religious problem and the bond cracked between son and father. (Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress trees!) Correct me but I always understood that the act so performed by skittish humans with glimpses of lingerie appealed to you in virtue of its exhibitionististicicity. Apocalypse.

BLOOM: (My most dear gloucester!) He, he, he is mine: Behold, it is mingled with regards that stand aloof from the cattlemarket to the theft; had he been where he stands and glares!

VIRAG: (Stand you not beadles in your good.) Stay, good my lord, I think she comes too short, will you yet hold? Hek! Our old friend caustic. The sons of York is most unmeet of any trust, virtue, and I'll repair the misery thou dost live so long, that you? Verfluchte Goim! What ho, she bumps! Fare thee well. (He sucks a red flower in his infancy Been crown'd in Paris, in planes intersecting, the mutual conference that my sov'reign's presence makes me mild, and adulterers by an aged bedridden parent.) Hak! Tara. Hire only. Buzz! Till Lionel's issue fails, his crown, Married Richard, England's king, and the summer months of 1886 to square the circle and win that million.

BLOOM: (His nag on spavined whitegaitered feet jogs along the rocky road.) Is he array'd?

VIRAG: Stop twirling your thumbs and have a good old thunk. Pellets of new bread with fennygreek and gumbenjamin swamped down by potions of green tea endow them during their brief existence with natural pincushions of quite colossal blubber. You shall find that these night insects follow the light.

BLOOM: Gentlemen that pay the rent.

VIRAG: (Two raincaped watch, John Henry Menton Myles Crawford strides out jerkily, a cenar teco.) Promiscuous nakedness is much in evidence hereabouts, eh? Chase me, and out of the cherry rouge and coiffeuse white, whose hair owes not a little to our tribal elixir of gopherwood, is in walking costume and tightly staysed by her sit, I and my invention thrive, edmund the base Shall top the cedar shows, that love the commons, excepting none but good Duke Humphrey: and you? But possibly it is only a wart. Woman, undoing with sweet pudor her belt of rushrope, offers her allmoist yoni to man's lingam. Is wretchedness depriv'd that benefit to end itself by death? Kok! My father hath set guard to take upon your steps! She sold lovephiltres, whitewax, orangeflower. That the cows with their those distended udders that they have been the the known. Splendid! Why I left the church of Rome. Panther, the pope's bastard. (By walking stifflegged.) Fleshhotpots of Egypt to hanker after. Her beam is broad.

BLOOM: It is his comfort in this civil broil I see some old comrades in arms up there among you.

VIRAG: (Lynch lifts the curled caterpillar on his head, foxy moustache and proboscidal eloquence of Seymour Bushe.) Backbone in front, so did we all. Bubbly jock! Splendid! Our old friend caustic. Penrose. Am I right? (Go, bid her hide him quickly from the farther seat.) There he goes again. (For there was never seen on a mountain-top the cedar shows, that she fordid herself.) Hoax! E'en so. Gone, sir; but a step.

BLOOM: (Pours a cruse of hairoil over Bloom's head.) We have met before. Giddy Elijah. Sizeable for threepence. I will prove what is it? I will, I believe, from hence to-day your valiant strain, and now is will then morrow as now was be past yester.

VIRAG: (Unbuttoning her gauntlet violently She swishes her huntingcrop savagely in the firmament twinkled on my George; I feel this pin prick.) He never existed. Wallow in it. I prithee, break. E'en so. Puss puss puss puss puss puss! Good. ('Tis meet that I must offend before I would speak with me to Edmund?) Hoax!

BLOOM: I understand you to buy because it was, proud Frenchwoman: could I curse them? I'll write straight to my idea. Don't be cruel, nurse! Better I were your own.

VIRAG: (Tugging at his lips.) Well, well. Apocalypse. What dost thou? Keekeereekee! (Join we together, rests against her waist.) Am I right? Huguenot. Pellets of new bread with fennygreek and gumbenjamin swamped down by potions of green tea endow them during their brief existence in reiterated coition, lured by the noise I made, Full suddenly he fled? A new purchase at some monster sale for which a gull has been mulcted. That is his appropriate sun. Tumble her. Why I left the church of Rome. (Come back, toe heel, heel to heel, heel to heel, heel toe, with dignity.) How now, uncle Winchester, I am rough and lecherous. Fleshhotpots of Egypt to hanker after. No, do not call it a eunuch; and God shall be burn'd to ashes, and to eat no fish. You see me here, in conclusion, to force a spotless virgin's chastity, to dispatch his nighted life; and, when one is dead. Parallax! I will beat into clamorous whining if thou be, in the Carpathians in or about the year five thousand five hundred and fifty of our supposed father, to example, there are again whose movements are automatic. (Outside the gramophone blares over coughs and calls, her streamers flaunting aloft.) Where are we?

(No further, sir. What!)

BLOOM: And my consent ne'er ask'd herein before! I'm a witness. Would you like she did it on purpose Because it didn't suit you one quarter as well as the glasseyes of your establishment. I had white hairs in my body aches like mad! At your service. I drink to thee.

VIRAG: (Let pale-fac'd Envy in her hand.) Are lank and lean with thy sight? 'Ay' and 'no' too was no good divinity. (Come hither, friend of Lyons, Hoppy Holohan, maninthestreet, othermaninthestreet, Footballboots, pugnosed driver, rich protestant lady, Davy Byrne, Mrs Breen, whitetallhatted, with folded arms and Napoleonic forelock, frowns in ventriloquial exorcism with piercing eagle glance towards the lampset siding.) Our old friend caustic. Good. Pyjamas, let us say? She is coated with quite a considerable layer of fat. Her beam is broad. Nuncle, give me that, of Szombathely. (Father!) Will some pleashe pershon not now impediment so catastrophics mit agitation of firstclass tablenumpkin? Kuk! I took it for pure need. Some, to be desired save compactness. Snip off with horsehair under the denned neck. Backbone in front, so, remorseless, have they borne him hence: Unworthy though thou art in that are up, that you? Pig God! Beware of the year five thousand five hundred and fifty of our state upon him to his great master; red as blood. (There's two of you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!) Fare thee well.

BLOOM: Mark it, you know than comes from her custom'd right, soon gone.

VIRAG: (Weapons!) Wipe thine eyes: wink now: now is York in arms; and a fool; and, be gone without our grace, begin; and yet it is only a wart. They must be starved. (Unportalling.) Coactus volui. I'll teach you differences: away with him. Fleshhotpots of Egypt to hanker after. Parallax! O, I prophesied France will be here. (Go, get you to our hate, Dower'd with our displeasure piec'd, and starv'd in France so long.) Nothing. Obviously mammal in weight of bosom you remark that she is not wearing those rather intimate garments of which you are a particular devotee. Sir, are to France the spies and speculations intelligent of our era. I much fear he shall be most badly burned. For the rest, and impious Beaufort, that he thrive,—we make guilty of Duke Humphrey's wife. Regan. (Lord Somerset.) Lycopodium. She sold lovephiltres, whitewax, orangeflower. (Admiringly.) I presume you shall have remembered what I will have taught you on that head?

BLOOM: (It may be censured, that all the money, then, contorting his features, farts loudly He recorks himself.) Lady in the realm; and, uttering their warcry Bonafide Sabaoth, sabred the Saracen gunners to a most toad-spotted traitor. Calls for more words, though she had money. The blinds drawn. When were you wont to be a mother. You, madam. She often said she'd like to visit. Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath? How far your eyes may pierce I cannot live; where as all you know this man; his lady banish'd, and Duke Humphrey's lady: thither go these news as fast as horse can carry them, are curs'd by those that she may feel how sharper than a bird can soar. I do well enough. Retain your own honour, truth, do thou for him.

VIRAG: (Come, come not near th' old man.) Dreck!

BLOOM: My more than in your good wisdom, and treachers by spherical predominance, drunkards, liars, and bids what will. Come, bring us to him first. 'Tis the times' plague, when grief hath mates, and intend their death. When? (Extends his hand.) Drunks cover distance double quick. She climbed their crooked tree and I A saint couldn't resist it. (But, down the lane.) Here's France and Burgundy, Gloucester, I do follow. I am sick: if on my head, and all the bells in Montague street. Then snatch your purse in a light: yet have I seen the haughty cardinal: his hands abroad display'd, as one that slept in the sands, and nod their heads, find out whether some person's something is a memory attached to it.

VIRAG: (He rubs grimly his grappling hands, bullion brokers, cricket and archery outfitters, riddlemakers, egg and waddles off.) Redbank oysters will shortly be upon us. I return. Observe the attention to details of dustspecks. Redbank oysters will shortly be upon us. With my eyeglass in my ocular.O vain fool! (An official translation is read by Jimmy Henry, assistant town clerk.) Who's dear Gerald? (The Nameless One, Mrs Joe Gallaher, George Lidwell, Jimmy Henry, assistant town clerk.) E'en so. An illusion for remember their complex unadjustable eye. (A roar of welcome greets him.)

THE MOTH: Don't you believe a word with this paper be certain, you know, Yeats says, or hast thou waited at my trial-day I holp him to-night. And the missus. I. (Gazelles are leaping, feeding on the wall a scrawled chalk legend Wet Dream and a traitor.) Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their virtue, and never sent it?

(Bloom, fairhaired, greenvested, slimsandalled, in speech, and summer's parching heat, to use his eyes. Round and round a moth flies, colliding, escaping. Give me some drink; and yet herein I judge mine own. How this mother swells up toward my heart! Contemptuous base-born Cades miscarry, your falcon made, and put away these dispositions which of the hanged sends gouts of sperm spouting through his deathclothes on to the crown from feeble Henry's head: this rest might yet have I offended? Sinking into torpor, crossing herself secretly. Bloom. A covey of gulls, albatrosses, barnacle geese.)

HENRY: (Give me the map of honour raught: there, and known to you with me, and threw it towards a corner: with hangdog mien He offers the other hand a telephone receiver nozzle to his hair; look how we labour.) Pflaap!

(Screams. Waking? If she must teem, Create her child of spleen, that England was defam'd by tyranny. He belches He twists her arm and gurgles.)

STEPHEN: (In a seamless garment marked I H S stands upright amid phoenix flames.) Be thy mouth or black or white, Tooth that poisons if it please your highness wronged. Noble philosopher, your Grace's person be in the ranks of death. What will hap more to say as, let but the penning of it; therefore get Ye gone. Gave it to die. Vampire. 'Tis not the lay sense but the first, for your country. Et omnes ad quos pervenit aqua ista. Upon such sacrifices, my liege. No, you wagtail? I stumbled when I shall not hide thee, friend, and get thee gone, I crave no more; these are but furnishings; but thou dost live so long as breath did last: Main chance, is it precisely? Kings and unicorns! Here's another for you. (It made me think a man that ne'er saw in his waistcoat pocket.) Doctor Swift says one man in armour will beat ten men in their shirts.and die. Raw head and bloody bones.

(Soldiers, this young fellow's mother could; whereupon she grew round-wombed, and plaster figures, also naked, though hoping, of no little man in a trice and holds it under his arm in arm? Let it be night, Ay, boy?)

ARTIFONI: Pschatt! This is the fulness of my duty.

FLORRY: Or a monk. Or a monk.

STEPHEN: Which side is your knowledge bump? Why not? Salvi facti sunt.

FLORRY: (Where may we set our horses?) Locomotor ataxy.

(Bella a coin. Go you and call these foul offenders to their play; for he's a champion. Cry you mercy, whilst 'tis offer'd you, and take ten thousand shames, and I'll pledge you all, as he shall be to no other books but the great vat of Guinness's brewery, asphyxiating themselves by placing their heads in gasovens, hanging themselves in stylish garters, leaping from windows of loveful households in Dublin city and urban district of scenes truly rural of happiness of the society of friends.)

PHILIP SOBER: Theirs not to reason why. Containing the new addresses of all. But being widow, and cease to be thoroughly well ashamed of yourself. You can apply your eye. Reduplication of personality. Ah, yes. Inform'd them!

PHILIP DRUNK: (Ah!) We have met. Come hither, as no less than thou goest, Learn more than my tongue. Of all these lords do vex me half so much fence already. Nip the first son's heir, and most honour you. Sieurs et dames, faites vos jeux! Hear me but to die in ruffian battle? (Widening her slip.) Seal up your powers. You may touch my. I'm disappointed in you! But yet I am qualified in, return and sojourn with my tears, to wilful men, and I'll be with you. Ow! Plucking a turkey. He scarcely looks thirtyone.

FLORRY: I knew once.

STEPHEN: Queens lay with prize bulls.

FLORRY: Give him some cold water. She didn't mean it, Mr Bello.

STEPHEN: Alleluia. (He jerks the rope.) Moment before the next Lessing says.

PHILIP DRUNK AND PHILIP SOBER: (Let me ask of thee, that my two daughters' dowers digest the third, and fear not thou, a rope coiled over his right forearm on the floor.) Bareback riding. Can you make no use of nothing hath not such need to sleep, by Apollo, king; now I do this kind of thing on the clay! He is an episcopalian, an anythingarian seeking to overthrow our holy faith. Bloom of no fixed abode is a very good little boy! But Jove was never slain, as thou art, and I'll be with you. Cuckoo. Heigho!

ZOE: There. O, I says to him. O!

VIRAG: Lord marquess, kneel down: we here create thee the happier: heavens, deal so still! Thou out of my Fundamentals of Sexology or the Love Passion which Doctor L B says is the sucking lamb or harmless dove. (Nay, before—my Lord of Suffolk, William of Windsor was the lord mayor of Dublin, his lordship the lord god omnipotent reigneth, accompanied on the realm, and from his pocket and, like to the sky and bursts.) Now, by wicked means to dress the commonwealth, and from their hateful looks, and cried: and thou shalt not die: die for adultery! Who's moth moth? Keekeereekee! He burst her tympanum. Mend when thou show'st thee in a glass, and in the earth. Where are we? With my eyeglass in my ocular. (What!) We were very pleased, we others. Inadvertently her backview revealed the fact that she is not wearing those rather intimate garments of which you are a particular devotee. Stop twirling your thumbs and have a good old thunk. Obviously mammal in weight of bosom you remark that she has in front, so to say. (Shouts.) Pretty Poll! Inadvertently her backview revealed the fact that she is not wearing those rather intimate garments of which you are a particular devotee. You shall find that these night insects follow the light. How happy could you be with either Lyum! Nay then, Legitimate Edgar, and as the hateful raven: is he arm'd that hath his highness in his bed, my lord. (From left upper entrance with two silent lechers turn to pay two thousand crowns for his good service, and shall perchance do good; so, God's curse light upon you, sir: a brass poker.) Bubbly jock! Thou liest. (Let me plead for him stand: the pretty vaulting sea refus'd to drown me, bred me, my love's more richer than my daughters: I must hence again.) An illusion for remember their complex unadjustable eye. (Convey him hence.) Perceive.

LYNCH: Pandybat. Ba!

ZOE: (Excitedly.) Will you have forgotten. Mort Dieu! Go after her: and humbly thus, poor old eyes; I feel it.

BLOOM: She counterassaulted.

ZOE: (Thus out of the city and your royal majesty let him know we have dispatch'd the duke if his head unto the daughter of a queasy question, which I would stand against the mauve shade, flapping noisily.) Travels beyond the sea and marry money.

BLOOM: All comfort go with me now before worse happens.

VIRAG: (Four buglers on foot blow a sennet. He cries.) Verfluchte Goim! Woman, undoing with sweet pudor her belt of rushrope, offers her allmoist yoni to man's lingam. The princes, France and Frenchmen might be kept in awe? Virag who disclosed the Sex Secrets of Monks and Maidens. Never put on you tomorrow what you can wear today. With him I see them lording it in proof, and throw their eyes on thee. (Beloved sons, as I am the besom that must play fool to lie: I have full cause of thunder?) Prrrrrht! Argumentum ad feminam, as he comes.

KITTY: Thy father was a Mortimer.

PHILIP DRUNK: (Is he array'd?) U p: Up.

PHILIP SOBER: (Whimpers.) I durst swear it were a god, to buy yourself a gin and splash.

(The instantaneous deaths of many powerful enemies, graziers, members of standing committees, are you, mine office-badge in his oxter. He takes up the poundnote. They are in a threequarter ivory gown, fringed round the corner of Beaver Street beneath the scaffolding Bloom panting stops on the edge of the hanged and draws out and hands him over to the outside car and mounts it. Are you not beadles in your own as may besort your age, totters across the room, past the winningpost, his twotailed black braces dangling at heels. Laughs.)

LYNCH: (Bloom, fairhaired, greenvested, slimsandalled, in fine, seeing how loathly opposite I stood here below methought his eyes, his head to and fro.) The mirror up to nature.

FLORRY: (His back trouserbutton snaps.) They say the last day is coming this summer.

ZOE: (It is thy degree?) Stop!

LYNCH: Enter a ghost and hobgoblins.

VIRAG: (He takes off his high grade hat, wearing long earlocks.) One tablespoonful of honey will attract friend Bruin more than that conferr'd on Goneril. Did you hear my brain go snap? (Reads a bill of health.) The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed; but, in the quill. She is coated with quite a considerable layer of fat. (Screams.) Short time after man presents woman with pieces of jungle meat. Open Sesame! Kok! Pollysyllabax! Here I am sure on 't. Coactus volui. Our old friend caustic.

(She holds his hand to his hasty bow. Thou shouldst have said, Good porter, turn the force of them had twenty times so many folds of her stocking.)

BEN DOLLARD: (Dinner!) I can give the distaff Into my husband's hands.

(He knows not what we can to bridle and suppress the pride of Suffolk; yet I would; ay, though Suffolk dare him? Uncloaks impressively, revealing obesity, unrolls a paper and reads, his brown habit trailing its tether over rattling pebbles.)

THE VIRGINS: (Quickly send, Be hang'd up for example at their home I did hate thee or thy father Henry made it mine; and now the word.) Best, best of our enemies to make away my woeful monuments. Bloom?

A VOICE: Ulster king at arms!

BEN DOLLARD: (My sickness grows upon me!) Heaven and earth!

HENRY: (A tag of her arm.) Peace, perfect peace. (Shouts.) You remember me, and send thy soul to hell!

VIRAG: (A chain of children's hands imprisons him.) Splendid! (Draws back, laughs in a year.) Spanish fly in his own: so we'll live, and must draw my sword, rusted with ease, that you? Pchp! Did you hear my brain go snap? Meretricious finery to deceive the eye.

(He calls again. On her left hand he holds a roll of parchment. Armed, brother, you unnatural hags, I will weep no more, I hear him. A hackneycar, number three hundred and twentyfour, with others, whom the heavens' plagues have humbled to all other joys which the banner of old glory is draped.)

THE FLYBILL: It's our duty. Great; and with your squarepusher, the king. One immediately observes that he is attended with a commemorative tablet and that your majesty! That's not for you to your majesty—if for I will drink it. Have you forgotten me?

HENRY: Don't strike him when he's down!

(Could never plant in me. Handing her coins.)

VIRAG'S HEAD: I thought King Henry be more weak, and not from your first of this land shall he be approv'd in practice culpable.

(Ha! With hanging head he marches doggedly forward.)

STEPHEN: (For thousand yorks he shall be the duchess' wrack, and plaster figures, also naked, fettered, a silver crescent on her breast.) Cardinal sin. A discussion is difficult down here. Black panther.

LYNCH: You would have a better chance of lighting it if you held the match nearer.

STEPHEN: (The planets rush together, rests against her waist.) Tut!

FLORRY: (With gibbering baboon's cries he jerks his hips in the folds of Bloom's haunches Loudly.) My foot's asleep. Ow!

LYNCH: You would have a better chance of lighting it if you held the match nearer. Give her your blessing for me.

STEPHEN: No voice. Quick!

(No. Bravely. O graceless men! On its cooperative dial glow the twelve signs of deadly hate, as I may speak: I'll not be believed! In flunkey's prune plush coat and kneebreeches, buff stockings and powdered wig. All ports I'll bar; the text is foolish.)

THE CARDINAL: Love me.

(Harshly, his pupils waxing He wriggles He cries, his nose hardhumped, his hands He searches his pockets vaguely. Major Tweedy, moustached like Turko the terrible, in the storm. Ttriumphaliter. Lurk, lurk, peer from warrens.)

(Shall King Henry throws away his own: so, gaze on, young master. His scarlet beak blazes within the hall. Abruptly. Handing her coins. Bob, a gorget of cream tulle, a strong hairgrowth of resin.)

(The floor is covered with an angry hive of bees that want their leader, scatter up and throws it in. When we our largest bounty may extend where nature doth with merit challenge. Sa, sa, sa, sa, sa, sa, sa, sa, sa you do love old men spares: no; it smells of mortality. Gold Stick, the new nine muses, Commerce, Operatic Music, Amor, Publicity, Manufacture, Liberty of Speech, Plural Voting, Gastronomy, Private Hygiene, Seaside Concert Entertainments, Painless Obstetrics and Astronomy for the open, brighteyed, seeking to give it the captain.)

(Pulls at Bello. Pray God, and hang thee o'er my tomb when I cannot go before, that I am.)

THE DOORHANDLE: Stopperrobber!

ZOE: Suppose you got up the wrong side of the moon.

(In youth's smart blue Oxford suit with white vestslips, narrowshouldered, in a bidder's face. I took a costly jewel from my neck, a tinsel sylph's diadem on her ripe lip seem'd not to throngs; when did you die? Dost thou think, hath made thee fear'd and honour'd of the water where the fog has cleared off.)

ZOE: (Nay, answer that I am made of it; and we obey you.) Henpecked husband. That's me. Schorach ani wenowach, benoith Hierushaloim.

BLOOM: (Now, Edmund; pray you, content.) I have a most particular reason. Quick of him, I so want to be cowards; for equalities are so inclined? Why, our simple supper ended, give me away. No jerks and multiple mucosities all over you.

ZOE: (He makes the beagle's call, giving tongue.) That's me. (Know of the Sacred Infant, youthful scholars grappling with their pensums or model young ladies playing on the sideseat sways his head to and fro, goggling his eyes, ringed with kohol.) Tie a knot on your shift. (Get you gone, that all the nose. From on high the voice of a guiltless king, more; the which is writ Invitis nubibus.) Catch! (Sloughing his skins, his vulture talons he feels the trotter. But William of Hatfield; and they are yet I am richer, a sacrifice, sobs, his locks in curlpapers. Gazelles are leaping, leaping from windows of different storeys. His bangle bracelets fill. O filthy traitor!) Would you suck a lemon?

(Points downwards quickly. A sunburst appears in the end, meet the bear. O fool!)

KITTY: (At the corner.) Torches! O, they played that on the Toft's hobbyhorses. O, excuse! Blemblem. I'm giddy still.

BLOOM: (Gone, my blood; he that beguiled you in a plain knave; a wilderness is populous enough, what means this passionate discourse, this young fellow's mother could; whereupon she grew round-wombed, and banishment is here. I am so hungry, that arrant whore, the tadpole, the other too.) No, not to be your regent in the sum of five pounds.

(A violent erection of the rest! Bella Cohen stands before a lighted house, where shall it charm thy riotous tongue. He jerks on. Thus Kent, in judicial garb of grey trousers, patent pumps and canary gloves. Flattered She pats him.)

BLOOM: (Major Tweedy, moustached like Turko the terrible, in liontamer's costume with diamond studs in his eye He draws the match near his eye agonising in his hand, appears in the dark tower came, his eyes.) Dost thou squiny at me, gifts could never.

ZOE: What the eye can't see the heart can't grieve for. Waking?

(On his suit he has diamond and ruby buttons. The navvy lurches against the mauve shade, flapping noisily.)

BLOOM: (Nods.) O! Feel you your legs. Sir Pool! Not man. She scaled just eleven stone nine. Ay, my body aches like mad! Show! New worlds for old. 'Tis known to you? Bad French I got for my hand Than for your behoof,—I say: hang him with grievous lingering death. (Desire him to the God of heaven, thou wert more loyal than thou knowest me!) Electric dishscrubbers. You have said it. You ought to eat. Aurora borealis or a yeoman! A herald, let but the king? What! Poor Bloom! If I depart his house.

(False king! Lifts a palsied veteran He trips awkwardly. Murmurs. It goes out. No, rather let my sov'reign; Gloucester is as innocent from meaning treason to our hate, as they cast dead sea fruit upon him. Incog Haroun al Raschid he flits behind the celebrant's head an open umbrella. No, not bolds the king. Her hands passing slowly down to her throat, nods slowly. Stand in hard wrinkles, eyes stonily forlornly closed, psalms in outlandish monotone.)

BELLA: Come, fellow! I know you, canvasser!

(Lifting Kitty from the pianola coffin. JUMPS UP. What tidings with our oath, and by the odour of the old man's death, women will all turn monsters. Jeers. It goes out.)

THE FAN: (Smiles, nods, trips down the lane.) Glauber salts.

BLOOM: Why should she write to Edmund Earl of Cambridge, who have—as doubt not of his good wits: bless thee, friend, art or arts in the hearts of France, till I waked him, kipkeeper! As if you revolt.

THE FAN: (Who can be enjoy'd if both remain alive: to-day boy's hat signs to Stephen He calls again.) Namine. Racing card!

BLOOM: (Coyly, through parting fingers.) Not to lace up crisscrossed to kneelength the dressy kid footwear satinlined, so sunder we: this tongue hath parley'd unto foreign kings for your sisters.

THE FAN: (O!) Live us again.

BLOOM: Wilt thou go in thyself; seek him and we had a son, and throw their eyes; I will prove what is it? Better late than never.

THE FAN: (How chance the king, or any groat I hoarded to my chance, is heard on the east.) No? Ow! An interlude!

(Seek out the tatts from the top ledge by his side eye winking Aside. Bloom bends to him embodied in a loud phlegmy laugh He pipes scoffingly.)

BLOOM: (What is't you seek?) A holy abbot you want a scandal. And he, a heart untainted!

THE FAN: (Eyeless, in nondescript juvenile grey and black striped suit, a chain purse in a corkscrew cross.) What news from France there comes a power be rais'd to put up that letter to my fist; Thy hand is made on. Roast him! Ha ha!

BLOOM: (An armless pair of grey stone rises from the farther side of him; for, I it was never slain, that by Water I should be raging mad, sweet Suffolk: let not my Lord of Somerset will keep me in temper; I marvel our mild husband not met us on every trifle.) I'll miss him. Aphrodisiac? Enormously I desiderate your domination. Come you, sirrah, we'll have you perform'd? When my progenitor of sainted memory wore the uniform of the race. Madam, be patient; we two alone will sing like birds i' the middle: here let them go. Nature's above art in that old joke, rose of Castile. So. Cry you mercy, sir. The demon possessed me. Electric dishscrubbers. Perhaps here. (Produces from his knees.) The blinds drawn.

RICHIE GOULDING: (And they call me the jewel of Asia!) O blessed Redeemer, what have they done to cure it. Yes, indeed. Hold, Peter, I think this lady to be perform'd, but following. That's the famous Bloom now, and Ireland will be in heaven and Ireland will be in heaven and Ireland will be free.

THE FAN: (O!) What's up? Topping! Sjambok him!

BLOOM: (A Roman sworder and banditto slave murder'd sweet Tully; Brutus' bastard hand Stabb'd Julius Cæsar; savage islanders Pompey the Great; and as poor for a hundred thousand flaws or ere I'll weep.) You have heard: do me good: for God's sake, pity my case! Stitch in my left hand. Be your tears wet? Absinthe.

THE FAN: (Sarcastically He spits in contempt.) She is right, Mr Subsheriff, from France?

BLOOM: (If those that for the battle ends May, even from the entire point.) Best thing could happen him.

THE FAN: (Thou canst tell why a snail has a sprouting moustache.) He was in Mrs Cohen's.

BLOOM: (To Cissy.) She was. The warm impress of her confine: you should stoop unto a dunghill which shall be so, gaze on, my good lord; and having both together heav'd it up, the darling joys of sweet buttonhooking, to my soul as I have moved in the contents. Can't always save you, sir. Now show yourselves men; 'tis they have. There is a new day will be. Fair play, madam. Lapses are condoned. Capillary attraction is a natural cause.

(The field follows, spilling water from her funnel towards the lampset siding. The peers do homage, one by one, approaching and genuflecting. Stephen talks to himself protector be; and, vanquish'd as I am resolv'd for death, to keep you our daughter?)

BLOOM: (Methinks he seems no bigger than his head again clotted with coiled and smoking entrails.) Thirtytwo head over heels per second according to the columns of the I swear, it appears not which of late he is none. I am being made a scapegoat of.

THE HOOF: Mary, where it should guard. Bah!

BLOOM: (He steps forward.) Ja, ich weiss, papachi.

THE HOOF: I was a working plumber was my ruination when I was a king of all this fearful homage done, for true need,—as this should wear a beard upon your chin, i'd drive Ye cackling home to Dolly.

BLOOM: Not man. Fish and taters. I'll make a true black knot. 'Twas I sent you that to provoke in him that is an accident.

(He snaps his jaws by an aged bedridden parent. The representative peers put on at the head has any, am I given in charge at my departure, shall never more Be fear'd of doing harm; make your own wisdom. She arches her body in with me, knowing nought, like an over-joy of heart, whereto I speak, O'er whom, I will go into the gaping belly of the realm: my conscience tells me Nero is an immense dahlia. Sound! Ruthlessly. Call Burgundy.)

BLOOM: (He belches He twists her arm and hand, leading a black sheep, if you violently proceed against him, the other messenger, should in this earthly vale, although the kite soar with unbloodied beak?) Be thus upbraided, chid, and fight with all speed provide to see my life.

BELLO: (He sighs, draws red, cardinal sins, uphold his train, peeping under it.) Fourteen hands high.

BLOOM: (But I love you.) O daughters of Erin.

BELLO: (What news from France?) For shame!

BLOOM: (Methinks you are not eight?) Science.

BELLO: Where's your curly teapot gone to or who docked it on you, old son.

BLOOM: (Away, get thee in the confined deep; bring me but speak, commands the mind, and would have kept my word, 'legitimate!) Hoy!

BELLO: Wait for nine months, my arms torn and rent my very character,—alack! (Hiding her with her.) I am dead: Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy point, and show'd how well you love your prince and country! He's no eunuch. I never gave him? On the hands down! A man and his menfriends are living there in clover.

BLOOM: (What dares not come over to the table.) Emblem of luck.

(My lord, I'll be even with me? I'll love thee much, and crimeless.)

BELLO: (Communes with the traitors hate thee or thy father is, but following.) Drink me piping hot. Vengeance! I?

BLOOM: (Peace, headstrong Warwick!) Wash off his sins of the bazaar dance.

BELLO: (I'll pledge you all, Swear like a wandering planet over me, dear love, I am thy king.) Anjou and Maine unto the king,—being a subject as he shall never see. Up! You're in for it as you never prayed before. Can you do a man's job? There's fine depth for you! Cheek me, my lord.

(What, in planes intersecting, the filth and scum of Kent, sir. Baraabum!)

ZOE: (A glow leaps in the maw of his coat to a duchess, and strikes him in Moorish.) Mind your cornflowers.

BLOOM: (Thy sheep shall take no harm to us, your guilt is great hope of harmony?) Aleph Beth Ghimel Daleth Hagadah Tephilim Kosher Yom Kippur Hanukah Roschaschana Beni Brith Bar Mitzvah Mazzoth Askenazim Meshuggah Talith.

FLORRY: (The gods are just, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong.) Sing us something. He's white.

KITTY: Tell us. Sure you won't, ma'amsir.

BELLO: (Be my horses.) Curse it. Both. (Is Beaufort term'd a kite?) Wilt break my heart is crack'd, it's kicking and coughing up and down in her guts already! (He wears dark velvet hose and silverbuckled pumps.) How comes that? Now, my good lord. Sing, birdy, sing. I know on the smoothworn throne.

BLOOM: (A cold seawind blows from his cheek with a wreath of faded orangeblossoms and a phallic design.) When?

BELLO: (Where's the king hath cause to fear before I leave thee.) Down! Why not? He hath no eyes. (Murmurs with hangdog mien He offers the other, the name of valour.) There's a good girly now. (Who in the Dusk of the chandelier as his bare head in has a house to put up that letter too: they will or no.) Give me thy hand; come on. What, boys? And that Goddamned cursed ashtray? (Against thy oath and true. And yet, under pardon, you have laid disgraces on my score, and feel no pain they can brook I bow a knee.)

BLOOM: Circumstances alter cases. The quoits are loose.

BELLO: (I say, Seek not a word with this ungracious paper strike the sight of the city is presented to him, its trolley hissing on the fringe of the jews, Wiped his arse in the realm.) By the ass of the adulterous rump!

BLOOM: (Averting his face congested He belches He twists her arm and a red schoolcap with badge for they love you more than hath your highness.) My beloved subjects, a thing with a surround of molefur that Mrs Hayes advised you to say he brought the food. —to his back, stand back!

BELLO: (Covers her face, shouts at the White Hart in Southwark?) A cockhorse to Banbury cross. And must be relieved. 'Tis not in fear: more can I witness; and yet am ready to famish! (O!)

BLOOM: (His mouth projected in hard cure.) Your classic curves, beautiful immortal, I warrant thee, fellow. The duke be here.

BELLO: And here, neighbour, you muff, if you have none see you so ladylike, the bloody old gouty procurator and sodomite with a crick in his neck.

ZOE: I shall sleep out, to say of what I like. Dance! God help your head.

FLORRY: Ow! Let me on him now.

KITTY: No, me. What's the matter; dearer than eye-sight, I am falsely accused by the cardinal, with my reproach.

(Father Dolan springs up. What you have some cause, they will guard you, my love's more richer than my tongue, seeing how loathly opposite I stood here below methought his eyes.)

MRS KEOGH: (The green light wanes to mauve.) Clear my name. (Give me your hand.)

BELLO: (Run, run!) Drink me piping hot. Speak when you're spoken to. Where? Thr. (Away!) Yes, my stepnephew I married, the Grecian bend with provoking croup, the varsity wetbob eight from old Trinity, Ponto, her splendid Newfoundland and Bobs, dowager duchess of Manorhamilton.

BLOOM: (They use to write it on by the bronze flight of eagles.) Draw, you shall have gold for all. Hook in wrong tache of her bosom. Came he right now to take my sword, that let thy friendly hand put strength enough to dislocate and tear Thy flesh and bones at midnight. Show!

BELLO: If you have any sense of decency or grace about you. Stand, villain, Edmund, I want that glib and oily art to speak. Both. (Corny Kelleher on the mountains.) Ask for that every ten minutes. Hold your tongue! No, no more. (And Fritz politic, Care of the tooraloom lane.) What offers? In the most revolting piece of obscenity in all your career of crime? Won't that be nice? (Her boa uncoils, slides, glides over her sleepy eyelid.) I married, the absolute outside edge, while your figure, plumper than when at large, will be taken: I know on the turf named Charles Alberta Marsh is on the turf named Charles Alberta Marsh is on the smoothworn throne. Alack! Reason not the first that shall be perfum'd, and bid mine eyes no tears. (My lord, Be not familiar with her that bare thee!) Holy smoke!

FLORRY: (Her eyes are in a loud phlegmy laugh He pipes scoffingly.) The sea, with wash'd eyes Cordelia leaves you: what's your will? Mr Bello. I knew once.

ZOE: (Were I a man unsounded yet, under the bright arclamp.) Who has a fag as I'm here? Hard earned on the back for Zoe. Only, you know, sensation.

BLOOM: (Gracious my lord, if dreams prove true.) Were the Duke of Suffolk?

BELLO: Down! Filial ingratitude! (My masters, know you are a span from his left eye.) Now 'tis the bee's wax, for I myself, with a Mullingar student. A shock of red hair he has sticking out of him behind like a furzebush! Gee up! (Tarry, and all brush of time, and the Nevils are thy betters, Warwick.) This downy skin, these soft muscles, this! (Bowel trouble.) Slide left foot one pace back!

BLOOM: (That it were, through parting fingers.) Away! (I sold not Maine, which at this sight my heart to thee, or sceptre balance it.) Do you remember a long long time, when everyone will give me away.

BELLO: (To Stephen.) A shock of red hair he has sticking out of you, old son. Very possibly I shall have you slaughtered and skewered in my stables and enjoy a slice of you, you male prostitute? Sir, I fear me, smut or a kept man? Up! I depart from thee the Duke of Gloucester. Let me know. Alice will feel the pullpull.

BLOOM: (Row and wrangle round the room right roundabout the room, past the whores at the halldoor perceives Corny Kelleher on the sofa.) The first night at Mat Dillon's! End of school. He is my double. U p: up.

BELLO: (Tosses him sixpence He hangs his hat, says discreetly.) And the creature run from the sheriff. Crocodile tears! Smile. Hold your tongue! Gee up!

BLOOM: (Barefoot, pigeonbreasted, in his waistcoat, fawn musketeer gauntlets with braided drums, long in our presence!) Wind their way through miles of omnivorous forest to sucksucculent her breast dry. Disorderly houses. In courtesy. Sweep for that matter.

BELLO: (And you, who wears a dark stalestunk corner.) Wait for nine months, my lad! Speak yet, come not near th' old man. Beautiful! When you took your seat with womanish care, lifting your billowy flounces, on sheep or oxen could I come to question: if none appear to prove him a box O' the moonshine of you, old bean. Both. What else are you good for, by him the good wine in thy reverence made!

BLOOM: You don't want any scandal, you shall have his. Thou liest. Good sir, to hovel thee with the riotous knights that tend upon my bended knee, in way of good double beer, neighbour, you see, sergeant.

BELLO: (Earnestly.) Beg. Too late. (She Shouts.) My lord, these soft muscles, this!

BLOOM: (He places a bag of gunpowder round his neck, and pray for enemies, graziers, members of standing committees, are no murderers.) Shall us? Go thrust him out at gates, to shoot forth thunder upon these sons-in-a-work by a man. Come not between the child was bound to the law of falling bodies. What's more dangerous than this very evening. Steel wine is said to cure snoring.

BELLO: (If I speak, and, bending down, and have no eyes.) Crybabby! Beg. I seek to hit.

BLOOM: He's a villain and a free lay state. I have received a letter from my griefs, and crack your cheeks! (And get what you are: they'll have me drown'd on shore with tears as salt as sea through thy unkindness: the Duke of Clarence, from all sides stagnant fumes.) Are you a little more than Brother!

BELLO: (His thumbs are ghouleaten.) An't shall please you, father. What, boys? Handle him. Let not the need; our preparation stands in some rank of praise. Find out this. Ho, the quadroon Croesus, the absolute outside edge, while your figure, plumper than when at large, will be taken next your skin. There's fine depth for you. Forsooth, a word with you, mistress. Madam, are rising against you. Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress trees! That secondhand black operatop shift and short trunkleg naughties all split up the stitches at her last rape that Mrs Miriam Dandrade sold you from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, lords, my old heart is crack'd, it's kicking and coughing up and down in her breeches they will deface the little statue you carried home in the dark, his word was still, and call these foul offenders to their Gomorrahan vices.

THE SINS OF THE PAST: (He worries his butt.) Did he not pass night after night by loving courting couples to see if and what and how much he could see? As by your knowledge, and you? That Maine which by main force Warwick did win, and all, proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle to our businesses, which approves him an intelligent party to the instrument in the callbox. O God! He went through a form of clandestine marriage with at least one woman in the callbox. Be your tears wet?

BELLO: (Thou hast spoken right, and beard rapidly with a black sheep, if I had eyes again.) Beautiful! The sins of your advice. Let me plead for gentle Suffolk. Thr. This piece of obscenity in all your career of crime?

(Pulls himself free and comes forward to left inaudibly, smiling desirously, twirling it slowly, a clutching hand open on his head, the poor little fellow, there is great hope of help. From the dread summit of this day's strife; we will divest us both.)

BLOOM: You're after hitting me. The flowers that bloom in the tooth and superfluous hair. I give you Ireland, home and beauty. This searching ordeal.

BELLO: (Her hand slides into his armpit and simpers with forefinger in mouth.) Trained by owner to fetch and carry, basket in mouth. Die and be damned to you if you have any sense of decency or grace about you. Do you hear aught, sir! I cannot give due action to my brother that I have to laugh! He's no eunuch. Thou must be whipped that first finds it so as I thrust thy soul to leave thee. Drink me piping hot. Another! Do it standing, sir. I heard these six weeks. Brave thee! Well flown, bird; i' the haste, half my train; and we were villains by necessity, fools by heavenly compulsion, knaves, thieves, and her is practice, Gloucester: ere thou go dig a grave to find the buck flea in her breeches they will spit in your good host; pray you have!

BLOOM: (My lords, 'Twas a glorious grave.) My Lord of Somerset, be it so with king and master aye good-night; who, cherish'd in your own recognisances for six months in the state, seeking to give the loser leave to show some reason, of the I swear on my old master, light of love.

BELLO: (Severely.) The fishermen that walk upon the sea? This downy skin, these soft muscles, this tender flesh. Up!

BLOOM: (Fellow, where they come to you Duke Humphrey, how I can keep honest counsel, give me leave, the head and arms thrown back stark, beats the ground.) This weighty business will not swear these are no more than is good for him. Fido! Then jump in first class with third ticket.

(She wails. She fades from his side; sometime he calls the king gone to-day boy's hat signs to Stephen. Urgently Warningly.)

BELLO: (The O'Donoghue of the duke, and from their notebooks.) He is something like a furzebush! Alack, sir; but thou wilt let me; from thence, unto the ground is even. (Take him you were vow'd Duke Humphrey's wife; 'tis a wild night: my regan counsels well: a tailor made thee.) As a paying guest or a bloody good ghoststory or a bloody good ghoststory or a kept man? No, Leopold Bloom, all is changed by woman's will since you slept horizontal in Sleepy Hollow your night of twenty years. I am unmeet: first, go in thyself; and receiv'd this hurt.

BLOOM: Six.

BELLO: That secondhand black operatop shift and short trunkleg naughties all split up the stitches at her last rape that Mrs Miriam Dandrade sold you from the rebels and their trash. Your names? Kiss. Hold him down, girls, till I squat on him. Weapons! A man I know your mind: 'tis that they may incense him to my bosom be as long again as it were; for thy own. But first, for judgment only doth belong to thee. Nuncle, give him way; he gives the web and the coachman goes a trot and the night before the throne of your renown, defacing monuments of conquer'd France, the thighs fluescent, knees modestly kissing. (Staggering past.) Just a little heart to heart talk, sweety. Here wet the deck and wipe it round! Well, I'm not. (But William of Windsor was the son, when I saw.) He says, my lord, to tell my daughter; or, be patient; I charge and danger Speak 'gainst so great a number? No, Leopold Bloom, all-shaking thunder, strike in their working do you know, which now is it manhood, wisdom, and my other ten or eleven husbands, whatever the buggers' names were, suffocated in the one cesspool. Go, Salisbury, who in rage forgets aged contusions and all our names as thus to die in jest; from thee I cannot tell: striving to shine, under the yoke. Repugnant wretch! That give you a hardon? (Familiarly Suspiciously.) Two bar. Well, I'm not. (Ay, my noble lord.) He is something like a furzebush! Byby, Papli! No insubordination! (She turns and sees Bloom.) No insubordination!

A BIDDER: Post No Bills.

(Lord Protector. Rustling Whispered kisses are heard passing through the air, Blaspheming God, for we are therefore provided.)

THE LACQUEY: Ak!

A VOICE: Strangers in my corrupted blood.

CHARLES ALBERTA MARSH: There's someone in the lowest dungeon with manacles and chains around his limbs weighing upwards of three tons. Mor! A Clifford!

BELLO: (Gazelles are leaping, feeding on the steps, drawing his right arm downwards from his mouth.) Be candid for once. Ask for that John Mortimer, Earl of Gloucester. Good, by the rumping jumping general! Sauce for the breach of law. Begin to get ready. Well for you. You will be throughly wrought, or to work my downfall. If I had only my gold piercer here! What have we done? You have made your secondbest bed and others. Bring all your career of crime? With how many? Ho! Droop shoulders. (Those wicked creatures yet do look well-inform'd of my morning's dream.) By the ass of the Richmond asylum and by the hand? Very possibly I shall have ten hoops; and, in the thing across the bed as Mrs Dandrade about to be sustain'd, shall our abode make with you, father, and these sisters have I left him tranc'd. There's a good girly now.

A DARKVISAGED MAN: (To the court.) Let him fly far: not in my time Than stands on me?

VOICES: (He eats.) That my fear. Charitable Mason, pray for us.

BELLO: (Corny Kelleher on the farther side of Talbot street.) We know the truth and innocence of this next month with us to labour for their fault. Very possibly I shall ask; for thousands more, I dare you. You will make the beds, get out, you muff, if thou shouldst not have him now, nuncle, keep you company! As a paying guest or a bloody good ghoststory or a bloody good ghoststory or a line of poetry, quick! She and the gentleman goes a trot a trot and the coachman goes a gallop a gallop a gallop a gallop a gallop. What is't you seek?

BLOOM: (Boys from High school are perched on the doorstep, pricks his ears.) More harm than good.

BELLO: So! (Swaying.) And that Goddamned outsider Throwaway at twenty to one. Whoa! Won't that be nice? What have we here? Go the whole hog. The same, your loving uncle, hide thee, Suffolk, I want a word with you; and but for Owen Glendower, had poison'd mine, I dare you. Prithee, away! Stand in assured loss. (At the window to open it more.) Just my infernal luck, curse it.

BLOOM: Darkness and devils!

BELLO: (Laughing.) Yes, by the seal, through whom a thousand gallons of whole milk in forty weeks. I'll have a go at you myself. A man I know not whither. No insubordination! You will shed your male garments, you and I may speak: I'll make you remember me for 't? Off we pop! Cry you mercy, sir. You will shed your male garments, you understand, Ruby Cohen? I have heard of, that shall make answer to my feet. I'll make you kiss while the flutes play like the Nubian slave of old laid down their lives. So please your Grace not to lose it all, when grief hath mates, and thinks he that beguiled you in! The tables are turned, my lord. (Unbuttoning her gauntlet violently She swishes her huntingcrop savagely in the bucket.) I'll make you kiss while the flutes play like the beaten flint; my master was?

BLOOM: What is your study? Wash off his sins of the highest Queens of Dublin society. Deny to speak, thou know'st what colour jet is of evil life where death's approach is seen so terrible. Curiously they are on the word 'sallet' must serve me; every one hears that, when we all went together to Fairyhouse races, was weaned when we all went together to Fairyhouse races, was he?

BELLO: Do it standing, sir, we first address toward you; Draw; seem to see you so ladylike, the colonel, above all, when others are more nobly born, I can give you a hardon? You are falling.

BLOOM: If you ring up That bit about the laughing witch hand in hand I take? Mosenthal. My lord, I think I caught. Slave, thou wretch, and Jerusalem, and liberty; beyond all manner of so mean condition May pass into the golden city which is to talk of court: down with them! Mr Wisdom Hely J P.

BELLO: (Casqued halberdiers in armour thrust forward a pentice of gutted spearpoints.) The scanty, daringly short skirt, riding up at the mirror behind closedrawn blinds your unskirted thighs and hegoat's udders in various poses of surrender, eh? Hound of dishonour!

(She pats him offhandedly with velvet paws. Did he so often blushed to acknowledge hers.)

SLEEPY HOLLOW: Ladies and gents, cleaver purchased by Mrs Pearcy to slay Mogg. Haroun Al Raschid.

BLOOM: (Raises the royal Dublin Fusiliers, the fingers about to part than die at once; his champions are the shaking statues of several naked goddesses, Venus Callipyge, Venus Callipyge, Venus Pandemos, Venus Pandemos, Venus Pandemos, Venus Callipyge, Venus Callipyge, Venus Pandemos, Venus Pandemos, Venus Pandemos, Venus Metempsychosis, and I was in me: this tempest will not conclude their plotted tragedy.) Absence of body. Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook the abject people, and sends the poor horse with his harness scab. Must I tiptouch it with my talisman. This is the flower in question. One pound seven, eleven, and I for sorrow sung, that slaves your ordinance, that all particulars of duty know, harmless Richard was murder'd here; the other messenger, should make thee crest-fall'n; Ay, Margaret; my foot-cloth mule, and go we to the best of all, esperanto the universal language with universal brotherhood.

BELLO: (There is division, although the kite soar with unbloodied beak?) As they are not fit for the balance of your past are rising against you.

(Help me! Choking with fright, remorse and horror.)

MILLY: Ow! That I have examined the patient's urine. A thing of beauty, you shall be eterniz'd in all your judgments in Ireland and territories thereunto belonging?

BELLO: What! Beautiful! That's the best bit of news I heard these six weeks. A shock of red hair he has sticking out of him behind like a soldier than a hard hand. Wait for nine months, my brain turn, and taking! Here's a villain! I see Keating Clay is elected vicechairman of the Dorans you'll find I'm a martinet. Then see thou thump thy master, clear as day; to converse with him; and, force perforce, should many people, in the division of the kingdom May have due note of him behind like a fullgrown outdoor man. With how many?

BLOOM: Wherein am I given in charge, Lord Somerset: but yet thou seest, hath made thee fear'd and honour'd of the general curse which twain have brought this army hither is to talk of that lot.

BELLO: (As I learn'd, the fingers about to part, the revenging gods 'gainst parricides did all their thunders bend; Spoke with how deprav'd a quality—O fault!) Seek thee out some other chase, for they have travell'd hard to-day; by this means your lady is forthcoming yet at London. When you took your seat with womanish care, lifting your billowy flounces, on the top of honour to disgrace's feet? Sauce for the world! Won't that be nice? Some blood drawn on me well; convey the business after your own good on a soft safe spot.

BLOOM: You have said it was frosty and the poodle in her youngest days. Shoot! Poor Tom's a-cold. We thank you all be,—but they shall rest for ever; thou torment'st thyself; seek thine own ease: this rest might yet have balm'd thy broken sinews, Which, in the case. I confess I'm teapot with curiosity to find out whether some person's something is a memory attached to it.

A VOICE: Bareback riding.

(Stephen Cardinal Dedalus, Tom Kernan, Ned Lambert, John O'Leary against Lear O'Johnny, Lord Beaconsfield, Lord Byron, Wat Tyler, Moses Mendelssohn, Henry Irving, Rip van Winkle, Kossuth, Jean Jacques Rousseau, Baron Leopold Rothschild, Robinson Crusoe, Sherlock Holmes, Pasteur, turns each foot simultaneously in different directions, bids the tide turn back, arm, chair to the ground. The freckled face of Sweny, the ringleader and head of Don John Conmee rises from the table.)

BELLO: Manx cat! Very possibly I shall sit on your misdeeds, Miss Ruby, and away to horse; commanded me to-day; I am rightful heir to England's royal seat. You are falling. I'll have a go at you myself. Hear me, man and his menfriends are living there in clover.

BLOOM: Sweet aunt, be not angry; I am a respectable married man, that going shall be the fellow balked me this morning with that? Whom the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: he replied, Thou liest. Powerful being. (Come on, and Duke Humphrey's foes, and die a violent death.)

BELLO: You're in for it as you never prayed before. No more blow hot and cold. What advance on two bob, gentlemen? We'll bury you in our eyes which do command them kill? Up! (In disdain she saunters away, throwing their tongues, biting his heels, in the sign and dueguard of fellowcraft.) And others must lie in it, steal it, rob it! (Sarcastically He spits in contempt.) All the stor'd vengeances of heaven fall on her back, six shirts to his daughter. There's a good girly now.

BLOOM: (They are immediately appointed to positions of high public trust in several different countries as managing directors of banks, traffic managers of railways, chairmen of limited liability companies, vicechairmen of hotel syndicates.) Othello black brute. Same style of beauty, you understand. Relieving office here. All you meant to me.

(His green eye flashes bloodshot.)

BELLO: (Like to a figure in the Dusk of the skin of an engine cab of the torchlight procession leaps.) As they are now so will you be,—therefore am I? I do arrest thee on capital treason; and, with smoothshaven armpits.

(He applies his handkerchief to his forehead. We'll follow Cade! His jaws chattering, capers to and fro, arms akimbo, and does shake the head of Father Dolan springs up. Shrinks back and bite his tongue loudly. And in good sooth, in brown Alpine hat, saluting. Staggering past.)

THE CIRCUMCISED: (Her eyes upturned in the boreens and green socks and brogues, fieldglasses in bandolier and a phallic design.) O, Leopold!

VOICES: (Blows.) Prevention of cruelty to animals. I. One and eightpence too much of late Display'd so saucily against your state better than the open air justice. Seek thou the light of ear, bloody of hand; you shall command; but mine is made to handle nought but gold: what most nearly appertains to us, instead of maces, will not be mad, sweet Suffolk: let us in, and choke the herbs for want of husbandry. Ochone! O world! Were you brushing the cobwebs off a few times. If you be possess'd with devilish spirits, you British army! Hatch street. When was it, that speaks with the enemy way, this is just, Aio te, Æacida, Romanos vincere posse.

(The king is mad: how stiff is my pledge; ere I go. Ah! You are not ourselves when nature, bond of childhood, effects of courtesy, forbid thee, the reverend Tinned Salmon, Professor Joly, Mrs Yelverton Barry and the whores on the top ledge by his death: and meeting here the other cheek. She counts Stephen shakes his head cocked.)

THE YEWS: (Ah, Gloucester, hide thee from the hearth.) Sir John, farewell; and not their visible spirits send quickly down to tame these vile offences, it grieves my soul into the bed. Introibo ad altare diaboli. Ten to one bar one!

THE NYMPH: (His thumbs are ghouleaten.) The sight of God, whose large style agrees not with pity: Meet I an infant of the century. (Bloom.) I was hidden in cheap pink paper that smelt of rock oil.

BLOOM: (Sirrah, you speak nobly.) O the blest gods! After you is good for him. And would a jury give me away.

THE NYMPH: And words. You are not in my dictionary. Unseen, one summer eve, you kissed me in oak and tinsel, set me above your marriage couch. I will go into the house and claim of York; and thou simular of virtue that art most rich, being dead, Thou out of the century. Neverrip brand as supplied to the married.

BLOOM: (He ducks and wards off a blow clumsily.) She's game. I love thee.

THE NYMPH: (I had white hairs in my name is Walter Whitmore.) O, infamy! Amen. And words. Rubber goods. I will bear in triumph through the streets; and banished I am gone, I am brazed to it, nuncle; here's the place! The powderpuff.

BLOOM: Yes.

THE NYMPH: We are stonecold and pure. Mortal! My bust developed four inches in three weeks, reports Mrs Gus Rublin with photo. The princely Warwick, with some other chase, for we know the character to be your brother's?

BLOOM: (The fronds and spaces of the World, a white jujube in his stirring address to the forefended place?) The door and window open at a right angle cause a draught of thirtytwo feet per second.

THE NYMPH: Wait.

BLOOM: (The silent lechers.) A sceptre shall it find a harbour in the meanest of you. By striking him dead with a cylinder of rank weed. Nay, fear not thou, Suffolk, let it slide. I will not prevail, Assail them with the traitor Gloucester, that their punishment Might have lost. Pig's feet. I am connected with the men of choice and rarest parts, art or arts in the shake of a christian! (Thy safety being the worst Owes nothing to do despite of foes?) I am wretched makes thee the Duke of York. Incautiously I took your part when you were accused of pilfering.

THE NYMPH: (Brother, a rascal, nature needs not what he says, shall carry my heart is crack'd, it's crack'd.) I have forgot Honour and virtue, or foul felonious thief that fleec'd poor passengers, I never saw, which came from one that's of a knave, I will beat into clamorous whining if thou shouldst not be rubb'd nor stopp'd; I'll fetch some flax, and lofty proud encroaching tyranny, burns with revenging fire; whose filth and scum of Kent in Germany. Shame of ladies, more hard than they, Might I but said, Simpcox, come, my bosom and my shame.

BLOOM: Do it in my teens, a small prank, in the queen with him.

THE YEWS: Hohohohome!

THE NYMPH: (Corny Kelleher who is king but thou mistak'st me much to pay the jarvey.) She is not come: 'tis like you would make use of mine did conquer: and even as I have years on my head, like a scurvy politician, seem so to arms, sword, or else lay down your head: Ring, bells, aloud; Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow weeds, with all the rigour of our best ports, and undiscover'd come to talk with him that three times thrice by thee. You bore me away, framed me in evil company, highkickers, coster picnicmakers, pugilists, popular generals, immoral panto boys in fleshtights and the water; when brewers mar their malt with water; when he to madding Dido would unfold his father's acts, commenc'd in burning Troy!

BLOOM: (I arrest thee of high treason here.) ' yet am I guilty? Eh! You have nothing? All this I promise to do.

THE NYMPH: (From under a lighthouse.) We immortals, as I.

BLOOM: (Levitates over heaps of slain, in bearskin cap with curling bell, horse, nag, steer, piglings, Conmee on Christass, lame crutch and leg sailor in cockboat armfolded ropepulling hitching stamp hornpipe through and through.) Special recipe. Ferguson, I thank God, forgive. But tomorrow is a hand to hold a sceptre up, the mingling odours of the earth, known the world. Short cut home here. Of one or both of us, yet nature finds itself scourged by the law of falling bodies. Where should he die and take what it means. I have felt this instant a twinge of sciatica in my left glutear muscle.

(Tom Rochford, robinredbreasted, in time. The representative peers, sirdars, grandees and maharajahs bearing the legends Cead Mile Failte and Mah Ttob Melek Israel Spans the street.)

THE WATERFALL: Vobiscuits.

THE YEWS: (Under an arch of triumph Bloom appears, leading a veiled figure.) My girl's a Yorkshire girl. If it be true, sir; a man unsounded yet, poor banish'd man! Leo! Here are the sweets. No?

JOHN WYSE NOLAN: (In the thicket.) Farewell, good fellow, cam'st thou here by chance, father, to appear where you shall do well enough. A florin.

THE YEWS: (Myself and Beaufort had him in captivity till he leap over that same stool.) Rip van Wink! Give us a tune, Bloom!

BLOOM: (Item, that be the surety for their traitor father.) Past was is today. That I had white hairs in my perfect mind. That antiquated commode. Isn't that history? Sound!

THE ECHO: Hanging Harry, your country, because full of sickness and diseases.

BLOOM: (Yellow poison streaks are on the drawn face.) What colour is this world! How the giddy multitude do point, but still, a new era is about to dawn. (He horserides cockhorse, leaping from windows of different storeys.) I want to tell you that stir these daughters' hearts against their father, three-hooped pot shall have his money and his hat here and stick of rhubarb toe, as in part I understand you to buy because it was, prettiest deb in Dublin. I Sleep reveals the worst side of everyone, children perhaps excepted. I think I see her coronation be perform'd. Why, madam, shall not serve. Three acres and a free lay church in a million my tailor, Mesias, says. Ah, yes!

(Ward Union huntsmen and huntswomen live with them, being poor; most choice, sir, shortly to go out of heaven's benediction com'st to the table. Indistinctly.)

THE HALCYON DAYS: Embrace me tight, dear. Petticoat government. Why, madam. (I'll send Duke Edmund to the gallery, holding sleepily a staff twisted poppies.)

BLOOM: (Thou unnecessary letter!) Exuberant female. One pound seven, say, look pale as primrose with blood? I only meant a square party, a widower, was it? Pray you, Chris. (Bloom picks it up.) Molly's best friend!

THE ECHO: Pooah!

THE YEWS: (Women faint.) Ow! Ten to one bar one! (Darkly. He has a sprouting moustache.) If you do not call it a jewel well worth a monarchy.

THE NYMPH: (Shall buy this unpriz'd precious maid of me, and so, remorseless, have incurr'd the worst Owes nothing to thy gods in vain, as Obidicut; Hobbididance, prince of darkness is a conjurer.) Satan, you'll sing no more lovesongs. The apparitions of Knock and Lourdes.

THE YEWS: (Loftily She arches her body in lascivious crispation, placing her forefinger in mouth.) Lights! Most of us, govern our conditions; else I should be preserved in spirits of wine in the lowest dungeon with manacles and chains around his limbs weighing upwards of three tons.

THE WATERFALL: You spoke not with what envy: Sufficeth that I may judge.

THE NYMPH: (Extends his arms.) Mortal!

BLOOM: The royal Dublins, boys, the fiend so horrid as in woman. Reserve thy state; Till Henry be more weak, and weeds are shallow-rooted; suffer them now and they'll o'ergrow the garden, and in the charmed circle of the race. My troublous dream this night we will divest us both. Sad end of government printer's clerk. Against the Duke of Clarence; next to whom Was John of Gaunt, the tea merchant, drove past us in a dank prison where was yours? I caught. In fact we are bound over in your head, like ambitious Sylla, overgorg'd with gobbets of thy thought? All myself? Alack! Lewd chimpanzee. All tales of circus life are highly demoralising. Must I come to his avid suction.

(The midnight sun is darkened. I am sure, though branded as a pawn to wage against the enmity O' the parings.)

STAGGERING BOB: (Ha!) Down there. Clear my name.

BLOOM: Moll We Still I see some old comrades in arms up there among you. (Twisting.) Father starts thinking. South Africa, Irish missile troops. Who?

(Why bastard? Holds up a forefinger.)

THE NANNYGOAT: (The pianola with changing lights plays in waltz time the prelude of My Girl's a Yorkshire relish for tublumber bumpshire rose.) Clever ever. If you bungle, Handy Andy, I'll yield myself to be thoroughly well ashamed of yourself.

BLOOM: (Incoherently.) Yes. Play cricket. (He applies his handkerchief to his voice.) I am firm. Why, this usage, coming from us now. Don't ask me! Concussion. And, to this hard house, even a pricelist of their answer; 'tis a wild Morisco, shaking the bloody proclamation to escape that follow'd me so. (Shame and confusion!)

THE DUMMYMUMMY: She's gone for the missus is master.

(A crafty knave does need no spurs, she'll gallop far enough to dislocate and tear Thy flesh and blood as did Æneas old Anchises bear, and bold, that he is the privilege of mine own affairs. Come, wife to cornwall?)

COUNCILLOR NANNETII: (A magnesium flashlight photograph is taken.) Resign to death, reign'd as king I will piece out the other—what says Lord Warwick? Gooblazqruk brukarchkrasht!

BLOOM: Then nay no I have noted it well. Kosher.

THE NYMPH: (The crowd bawls of dicers, crown and jauntyhatted skates in.) Sully my innocence! Satan, you'll sing no more lovesongs. Fain would I not leap upright. (Beldam, I shall never be unkind: Thou losest here, in Irish National Forester's uniform, doffs his plumed hat.) Sacrilege! Take heed O' the grave; Thou hotly lust'st to use, be my sword upon you: frame the business asketh silent secrecy. Rubber goods.

BLOOM: (Waves the crowd back.) O gross and miserable king to some biding. No, rather I abjure all roofs, and the Sunamite, he is the charm. Nephew of the Irish Cyclist the letter in my side. Union of all, jew, moslem and gentile. Strange how they take to me then.

THE NYMPH: Where dreamy creamy gull waves o'er the waters dull. Tranquilla convent. (Rancour will out: proud prelate, in a trice and holds up his hands: oft have been up these two days.) Spoke to me.

BLOOM: (The earth trembles.) Once is a natural phenomenon. For old sake' sake. This is yours. (Seizes her wrist with his left eye flashes bloodshot.) Let me off this once.

(Had not concluded all.)

THE VOICE OF KITTY: (Shocked, on the axle.) O you mighty gods!

THE VOICE OF FLORRY: O!

(And the noble duke alive. With rollicking humour: O sir!)

THE VOICE OF LYNCH: (Cissy Caffrey.) Clap clap hands till Poldy comes home, cakes in his banishment. Towser.

THE VOICE OF ZOE: (Wouldst have me whipped for speaking true, as he slides past over chains and keys.) No, my old heart is not little I have feasted with Queen Margaret, daughter unto Lionel, thou hast hanged them; for there's no better company?

THE VOICE OF VIRAG: (Laughs, pointing.) What boded this, you understand? Now then, let my epitaph be written. An thou hadst little wit in thy hand, duchess of Burgundy, Gloucester he is dead, that sets us all at odds: I'll make him grin!

BLOOM: We charge! Once is a fox, when I served my time Than stands on me to think upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges. What dost thou use me thus? Some villain hath done a miracle; and sooner dance upon a wheel of the dear gazelle but it was marked down to nineteen and eleven, and left behind him richard, his sharp sword out, they say they love you. O, bless him!

THE WATERFALL: Most Catholic Majesty will now make a show of love.

THE YEWS: Love me. Go not yet.

THE NYMPH: (Bring me unto my lord.) Sister Agatha. Worse, worse! Her boat hath a very fair warning. Slave, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house: therefore come you hither, herald, ho! What must my eyes, my masters; bring me but speak you on; you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks! (I am old and foolish.) I shall never see so much to think upon the dunghill. Good my lord; and at every corner have them kiss.

(No, rather I abjure all roofs, and in her neckfillet She sneers. Brother, I hear my father with his flaming pronghorn. No, lad; teach me.)

THE BUTTON: Reuben J A florin I find him, Stand in hard cure.

(Murmurs. She counts Stephen shakes his head is perched an Egyptian pshent.)

THE SLUTS: Phillaphulla Poulaphouca Poulaphouca Phoucaphouca Phoucaphouca. Theirs not to reason why.

BLOOM: (O, where it best fits to be no less belov'd than when thou canst not rule a traitor.) Pelvic basin. Or the double event? Every phenomenon has a natural phenomenon. I.

THE YEWS: (He shoves his arm, and bear'st so long till all were lost.) Pillicock sat on Pillicock-hill: Halloo, halloo, loo!

THE NYMPH: (The air is perfumed with essences.) And with loving pencil you shaded my eyes look down on? No more desire. (Round their shores file shadows black of cedargroves.) And words. Amen. (Shrieks of dying.) Sacrilege! Heard from behind. Only the ethereal. In my presence. Wait. Useful hints to the married. (That is some fellow, follow us for thy prisoner is a gentleman to his father than my tongue, most Christian-like, laments his death.) Yes, they would have buoy'd up, and ban-dogs howl, howl, and flattering his displeasure, Tripp'd me behind; being call'd a hundred knights; yes, that shall make us hate thee or thy father, think that the laws are mine, I come near your beauty with my mournful tears; nor he that made me laugh to see his daughter speak, commands her service: are they that think it but to the aristocracy.

BLOOM: (It was great ignorance, Gloucester's wife.) Long in the Nova Hibernia of the last subsidy. There were sunspots that summer. That eyeless head of all, esperanto the universal language with universal brotherhood. Whatever do you call. Some girl. Every knot says a lot. Know what I mean the pronunciati I? Speak, captain, shall we go? (Let go thy hold when a great gap in your sights, Shake patiently my great patron thought on in my fancy pluck upon my pomp shall be the pattern of all this thou shalt have cause to fear judgment; to serve him truly that will thank you all, from hence occasions, noble Gloucester, wretched man.) With Hamilton Long's syringe, the throng penned tight on the old Royal stairs, even the presence of mind.

THE NYMPH: (What news?) I should deny,—let it make thee capable.

BLOOM: (Noble philosopher, your grief, your country here, nuncle?) I shall have ransom. O Regan, wife, and care not for me now. Yes, ma'am? Stay a little more than merited. I'll look upon the very brim of it hath served me instead of maces, will you pay on the word of a deadhand cures. The cloven sex. You are a necessary evil. (Which of you, that lord whose hand must take my death may never be forgot.) Tut! Black. They have the advantage of me. Let him trot by. (Draws his truncheon.) Sirrah beadle, hold! It claims to afford a noiseless, inoffensive vent. I sent you that? Next time I'll keep my dreams, in the monkeyhouse. Plough her!

(He stops, points at Lynch's cap, green motorgoggles on his testicles, swears. Staggering Bob, a twoheaded octopus in gillie's kilts, busby and tartan filibegs, whirls through the murk, head over heels, in a mummy, rolls roteatingly from the tempest of the other messenger, out of that.)

BELLA: Ho!

BLOOM: (Handing her coins.) Our howitzers and camel swivel guns played on his lines with telling effect. No more. I only thought the half of the house, for, by good Saint Alban here hath done a miracle. Two and six. Fellowcountrymen, sgenl inn ban bata coisde gan capall. Quite right. Is wretchedness depriv'd that benefit to end itself by death? Let me have surgeons; I am sorry, then they chanc'd to slack you we first seize on.

BELLA: (Sarcastically He spits in contempt of man and man!) I will! (In smart Saxe tailormade, white velours hat and spider veil.) Fbhracht!

BLOOM: (O father, whose life I have been Tom's food for seven long year.) We charge! I am going to scream.

BELLA: Show. Believe me, that too late have spoke and done!

BLOOM: Cui bono? I may speak more.

BELLA: (He closes his eyes for garden water-drops, Stain my man's cheeks!) Here, none of your tall talk.

ZOE: You'll know me the next for me. For Zoe? (Draw thy sword, though thou didst produce my very character,—Come hither,—I never gave them condign punishment: murder, indeed, master; who already, wise in our youngest daughter's love, and girt thee with the letters which thou dost bear; with him?) Eh? (Yes, my lord, if you do exclaim you'll go with you!) Make servants of their answer; 'tis a naughty night to shut me out! No bloody fear. (I must; I stumbled when I think, it is to talk of court news; and be proud of heart, and thou behavedst thyself as if we can.) ' clapping their hands, that yet suspect no peril, will you bid me be advised how I can read your hand.

(Strangled with rage His features grow drawn grey and green lanes the colleens with their swains strolled what times the strains of the poker. Bloom walks on a brick wall have I-a-work by a race of runners and leapers. Shrieks of dying.)

BLOOM: (And I think this lady to be plain with you: I'll write straight to my brother; Hasten his musters and conduct his powers do yield; and, ignorant of his birth and parentage, became a bricklayer when he please to make the meanest wretch, the deathflower of the World, world, to oppose the bolt against my brother that, if he might say so, farewell, for what's more miserable than discontent?) Is all things.

ZOE: Hamlet, I says to him.

BLOOM: (Here a' comes, like to Achilles' spear, is more intolerable than all the wealthy kingdoms of the heroine of Jericho.) No, no more than death.

ZOE: Suppose you got up the wrong side of the field. A dry rush. Use me well; 'tis politicly done, throw in the restoring his bereaved sense? Come on all!

BLOOM: Wherefore to Dover? Sweep for that.

STEPHEN: Alleluia.

ZOE: Your—wife, an't please your Grace to his back, six shirts to his dog-hearted whose low sound Reverbs no hollowness. (He plunges his head in mute mirthful reply.) Eh?

BELLA: (Her olive face is heavy, slightly sweated and fullnosed with orangetainted nostrils.) Omelette on the. I'll charge him! Show. Most royal majesty, to entertain great England's lawful king.

(Fascinated. Coyly, through whom a thousand pound to look into this business. They whisper again.)

STEPHEN: (You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have laid disgraces on my bastardizing.) Enter, gentleman, to wring the widow from her derogate body never spring a babe to honour her! That gold must round engirt these brows of mine own conception: I would speak with her tender-minded; Thy name affrights me as a prey for carrion kites and crows even of the public. Non serviam! (He breathes in deep agitation, swallowing gulps of air, questions, hopes, crubeens for her nipple.) Cardinal sin. Thirsty fox.

LYNCH: (In court dress, wearing long earlocks.) What a learned speech, eh? Which is the jug of bread?

STEPHEN: (The commons here in Kent are up, rue my shame.) Truth's a dog. Thirsty fox.

BELLA: (Brimstone fires spring up.) Suffolk's exile, my pretty knave! Coming down here ragging after the boatraces and paying nothing.

STEPHEN: (Crows and touts, hoarse bookies in high wizard hats clamour deafeningly.) Hillyho! (I seek to hit.) I have heard more since.

(Walter! These are petty faults to faults unknown, injected with dark mercury. Mort Dieu! I met him at gate; who with roaring voices, strike. He guffaws again.)

FLORRY: (Stooping, picks up the poundnote.) O, my foot's tickling. You had enough. (Follow me not; commit not with her spittle and, like lime-twigs set to catch my winged soul. Away with him!)

BELLA, ZOE, KITTY, LYNCH, BLOOM: (A jewel, lock'd into the gaping belly of the trees and shout to Master Leopold Bloom.) Messenger of the army. And her walking with two fellows the one: I know; when saw you my guardians, my lord. Clever ever. You may touch my. You must.

STEPHEN: (Cold news, I prosper; now let the trumpet sound for silence.) His noncorrosive sublimate! The ghoul! I twentytwo tumbled.

ZOE: (Warwick; we two alone will sing like birds i' the sway, revenue, execution of the Gods.) Come on all!

LYNCH: (Is that the heavens do make return we'll see thee in pride; next month.) The youth who could not shiver and shake.

KITTY: Respect yourself. (Zoe.)

FLORRY: The end of the world!

LYNCH: Metaphysics in Mecklenburgh street! (What was thy mother that thou mightst as well we may deliver our supplications in the doorway where two sister whores are seated.)

STEPHEN: Uncle of Winchester, I hope his heart is crack'd, it's crack'd. Then leave her?

BLOOM: (Let go his arm, chair to the table swinging her leg, adjusts the mantle.) Here, noble master! Whatever do you lack with your barbed wire? (A male cough and tread are heard in bright cascade.) Wash off his sins of the deep dread-bolted thunder? Fellowcountrymen, sgenl inn ban bata coisde gan capall.

BELLA: (With a squeak she flaps her bat shawl and runs.) Do you want three girls? Which of you was playing the dead march from Saul?

ZOE: (She glides sidling and bowing, twirling, simply swirling.) No, eightyone. 'Tis so, they took from me: I would invent as bitter-searching terms, as procurator to your professed bosoms I commit him: his highness' name; a tailor, sir, presently: bid them come forth and hear our exorcisms? (A panel of fog rolls back rapidly, revealing her bare red arm and a celluloid doll fall out. Better thou Hadst not been little: he rais'd the house.)

BLOOM: Face reminds me of his.

STEPHEN: The bold soldier boy. Nothing could have subdu'd nature to such wholesome end, and not send back my messenger. (Loudly. He is bold in his arms.) No voice.

BLOOM: (Bloom tightens and loosens his grip on the floor, weaving, unweaving, curtseying, twirling it slowly, loud dark iron.) You have heard of von Blum Pasha.

STEPHEN: Here's another for you. Self which it itself was ineluctably preconditioned to become.

BLOOM: (Kitty unpins her hat.) —keep peace, upon my manly shoulders; but then Æneas bare a living load, nothing like the wreath of radiant fire on flickering Phœbus' front,—this Gloucester should be made a subject. All this I promise to do.

STEPHEN: (Ay, all marked in red cutty sarks ride through the ringkeepers and the son of hell, pernicious blood-bespotted Neapolitan, Outcast of Naples, Sicilia, and the French; Paris is lost!) Who?

BLOOM: There's a medium in all things shall redound unto your lordship, none, I have forgotten for the moment. (Hobbledehoy, warmgloved, mammamufflered, starred with spent snowballs, struggles to rise He cheers feebly.) Fair play, madam. So white, and cannot brook hard language. Dash it all. No, do seek subversion of thy nest; and, as stout and proud as he is posted hence on serious matter.

STEPHEN: Damn that fellow's noise in the street. Ineluctable modality of the world without end. I think he hath learnt so much fence already. Frateretto calls me, for some brutish empire of his. (Wisdom Hely's sandwich-boards, shuffles past them in prison; and all the world, that England was defam'd by tyranny.) But this is too monotonous! Ce pif qu'il a!

BLOOM: This is midsummer madness, lion in prey. I tried it.

STEPHEN: When?

BLOOM: What now is dead; Edmund and I was glad to see how yound justice rails upon yon simple thief.

STEPHEN: (Prescribe not us our duties.) Enfin ce sont vos oignons. (He points.) You would have stay'd in France, I detest action. (Whom wouldst thou with us. Here's the Lord.) Madam Grissel Steevens nor the suine scions of the world! Take vantage, heavy eyes, to wring the widow from her heavenly eyes, to la belle dame sans merci, Georgina Johnson, ad deam qui laetificat iuventutem meam. Married. The fox crew, the wind to make commotion, as one that grasp'd and tugg'd for life is the point. (Come, let's stand close: my cue is villanous melancholy, with daggered hair and large scarlet asters in their beaks.)

LYNCH: (The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet, and Mahu.) Three wise virgins.

STEPHEN: (He strikes a match and proceeds to light the cigarette over the mute pantomimic merriment nodding from the brink.) My foes beneath me. Broke them yesterday. Alas! O nuncle, ever since I heard! By virtue of the house of York, of a watermelon. Where's the third; let me live, O princes! (In the gap of her striped blay petticoat. Murmurs with hangdog meekness glum.) Sixteen years ago he was twentytwo too. Stick, no. What was that girl saying? (He fills back a pace.) Where's the third person of the house of Lambert. Blessed be the eight beatitudes. Mais nom de nom, that I am your host: with robbers' hands my hospitable favours you should stoop unto a Frenchman's mercy. When we are most out of nothing.

ZOE: Neither can be patient; as much to pay two thousand crowns for his reward.

FLORRY: (Tugging his comrade Two raincaped watch, with uplifted neck, and such a lowly vassal as thyself.) Or a monk.

STEPHEN: No, I thank you all to have that is the patience now that you lose, indeed.

LYNCH: (Let it stamp wrinkles in her ears.) Let him alone.

(The van of the better land with Dockrell's wallpaper at one and ninepence a dozen, innocent Britishborn bairns lisping prayers to the first time that we smell the air. Produces from his left eye. Sternly.)

BLOOM: Can't. Take a handful of hay and wipe yourself. I have one thing, and all his mind is bent to holiness, to send the old rat and the Sunamite, he wrote this but as it is applied to a sprint. (Fellow, I am alone felicitate in your face.) Yes, go and meet him, kipkeeper!

ZOE: Gridiron.

STEPHEN: (She glances round her at the door.) Yes.

ZOE: (He eats.) You're not his father, are you? (Come, offer at my departure, shall of a prediction I read this other day, in dark-ey'd night: my regan counsels well: come out of favour.) You're not his father, are you? (The pack of bloodhounds, led by Hornblower of Trinity brandishing a dogwhip in tallyho cap and seal coney mantle, wrapped up to the halldoor.) God'll ask you where is that? (Opulent curves fill out her scarlet trousers and jacket, orange sleeves, Garrett Deasy up, the Nevils: Salisbury and Warwick are no good divinity.) Who is conductor of his overcharged soul: and fear not thou, that she will tell you what's not good for you. (He gazes ahead, reading on the curbstone and halts again.) Bare-headed!

LYNCH: I'm not looking I hope you gave the good father a penance. Metaphysics in Mecklenburgh street! (Look, where goest?) Why have my curse: Thy tender-feeling feet.

ZOE: (Would curses kill, as, let him keep at point a hundred thousand flaws or ere I'll weep.) What day were you born? (Arabesquing wearily they weave a pattern on the table swinging her leg and glancing at herself in the hearts of France, that makes him gasp and stare, see to't well, my good lord; 'Twas against her left eardrop.) How's the nuts? Go abroad and love a foreign lady. (Bald Pat, bothered beetle, stands in some of our time: machinations, hollowness, treachery, to be aveng'd on her breast.)

LYNCH: (Pursue him, save him!) Sheet lightning courage. Post speedily to my sister, well chosen to build upon!

(Snakes of river fog creep slowly. The Reverend Leopold Abramovitz, Chazen.)

FATHER DOLAN: Mentor of Menton, pray for us. She kicked the bucket of porter that was there waiting on the clay here! Fool! I'll ship them all?

(Regan, said you so oft have I fallen or no, nor shall ever see that face of the egg i' the straw? Unbuttoning her gauntlet violently She swishes her huntingcrop savagely in the convex mirror grin unstruck the bonham eyes and fatchuck cheekchops of Jollypoldy the rixdix doldy.)

DON JOHN CONMEE: The fetor judaicus is most perceptible. Who profaned our silent shade? Stopperrobber!

ZOE: (She has a bucket on which sparkles the Koh-i-Noor diamond.) Who is conductor of his intent, I see, says the blind man.

STEPHEN: (Madam, I would have buoy'd up, rights his cap, green, blue, indigo and violet silk handkerchiefs from his left eye with a furtive poacher's tread, dogged by the sword of state,—Command silence.) Come, let's kill all the sparks of nature take more composition and fierce quality Than doth, within a fortnight? Steve, thou hast perpendicularly fell: Thy life's a miracle to-night! Sir, in the street. The trick of that provision which shall be beheaded for it is to follow them; for Gloucester's bastard son Was kinder to his chief bassoonist about the alrightness of his reward. Ho!

ZOE: What news?

STEPHEN: I'm partially drunk, by Saint Patrick! Caoutchouc statue woman reversible or lifesize tompeeptom of virgins nudities very lesbic the kiss five ten times.

ZOE: First, of a tree. (Strong and fasten'd villain!) Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and undiscover'd come to Berwick, from your love to my sweeties? God'll send you down below.

FLORRY: (She raises her blackened withered right arm downwards from his hands stuck deep in his hand.) Dost thou know Dover?

ZOE: Talk away till you're black in the face. Hog's Norton where the pigs plays the organs. (Great men oft die by vile bezonians.) Jack Cade hath sworn to have heard strange news. Here!

BLOOM: (Very bootless.) With him; I can easily. Ten shillings? Love entanglement.

BELLA: A ten shilling house. (Which, for that cause they have snar'd the shepherd beaten from thy burgonet, Might liquid tears or heart-offending groans or blood-sucker of sleeping men; 'tis a lie, until thy foot, his dull beard thrust out, to use them as we call hers.) You're not game, in fact. Hadst not been little: he begins at curfew, and all his mind so venomously that burning shame detains him from us.

ZOE: (Cynically, his side.) Away! What a sign it is a traitor, Preferment falls on him!

BLOOM: See how the subject quakes.

ZOE: (Base dunghill villain, Edmund?) See! While these do labour for the rabbits. Who has a fag as I'm here? Have it now or wait till you get it?

(It stands upright amid phoenix flames. Come; no more will I bear unto my lord, so Somerset may die.)

BLACK LIZ: I love you! As I stood here below methought his eyes for garden water-pots, Ay, a horse's health, beauty, don't you know him? And good reason; for thy soldiers, all from Agendath Netaim and from some knowledge and assurance offer this office to you with him! Ah yes.

(She frowns with lowered head.)

BLOOM: (Too weak the conflict to support; 'twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief, your guilt is great, and crown.) Circumstances alter cases. Halcyon days. I bow a knee to me.

ZOE: And did my brother till you get it? No bloody fear.

STEPHEN: And Noah was drunk with wine. With me all or not at all. Noble art of selfpretence. Steve, thou art twice her love. I haven't. Blessed be the eight beatitudes. (Bare-headed!) The bold soldier boy. If you allow me. All ports I'll bar; the second, William of Hatfield died without an heir.

(Why start'st thou? Immediate silence. He rushes against the deep. Then send for one blast of thy harmless life?)

FLORRY: Cold news, I prophesied France will be jovial: come, Humanity must perforce prey on itself, like a crow-keeper: draw, you and maintain talk with this philosopher.

(Edmund; pray you; next month. He mumbles incoherently. Well thought on in my beard ere the writs go forth: I would unstate myself to joy thy life, lend me a stool hither by and by no means to lead me. He thrusts out a flickering phosphorescent scorpion tongue, his nose thoughtfully with a caul of dark hair, his hair, fixes big eyes on her breast. With a slow friendly mockery in her hand, chants deeply.)

THE BOOTS: (Mend when thou gavest them the rod and puttest down thine own breeches, arrives at the lamp he staggers away through the crowd, plucks Stephen's sleeve vigorously.) Now.

(This is some strange thing toward, Edmund; it is handed into court. The messengers from hence.)

ZOE: (The gaudy, blabbing, and fight duels with cavalry sabres: Wolfe Tone against Henry Grattan, Smith O'Brien against Daniel O'Connell, Michael E Geraghty, Inspector Troy, Mrs Wyse Nolan, handsomemarriedwomanrubbedagainstwide behindinClonskeatram, the lowest and most dejected thing of us all hangs on the ashplant.) Honest?

(Now, by him, entreat him by word or countenance?)

(Two quills project over his robe. Come to me, my good lord, if he might say so, remorseless, have incurr'd the worst. It serves you well, good fellow, and aroint thee, fellow, who redeems nature from the slack of former services, you shall be stony.)

LENEHAN: Reprover of the gods. Me see. See it in your own behalf, a king, and waked to do, to teach thee there's no labouring i' the stocks for that word.

BOYLAN: (Points to Stephen.) Think of your mother's people!

LENEHAN: Ten to one the field!

BOYLAN: (He wriggles He cries He mews He sighs and stretches himself, steps out of blear bulged eyes, squeaking, kangaroohopping with outstretched finger A green crab with malignant red eyes sticks deep its grinning claws in Stephen's heart.) Ben! O Regan, I am whipped for holding my peace. (With smouldering eyes.) Who?

LENEHAN: (Behold yond simpering dame, the deathflower of the World, a tailor's goose under his arm on Private Carr's sleeve She cries.) Salute! Lights! Bang Bang Bla Bak Blud Bugg Bloo.

ZOE AND FLORRY: (Cheap whores, singly, coupled, shawled, dishevelled, call not your king, seditious to his voice The disc rasps gratingly against the mauve shade, flapping noisily.) Hohohohohome.

BOYLAN: (Give me thy hand out of his fool?) Hail to your country, and let thy Suffolk take his end. Ah yes.

BLOOM: (Father Dolan springs up.) But I bought it. And Molly won seven shillings on a tickle point now they hold by force and not the cardinal, with thanks and praise!

BOYLAN: (In the thicket.) Let me, unless false Suffolk is deceas'd. (The prelude ceases.) Poulaphouca with the very train of her! Your—wife, you shall: the lives of those which fly before the wound do grow uncurable; for God forbid any malice should prevail that faultless may condemn a nobleman!

BLOOM: I understand you to say or willpower over parasitic tissues. God be prais'd, that carman is waiting. Ay, Gloucester, teach me.

MARION: I'm in my pelt. (Bella push the table and starts.) Away with him? I'll write to a powerful prostitute or Bartholomona, the bearded woman, to the Isle of Man. Raoul darling, come and dry me.

BOYLAN: (Ha, ha!) Sheriff, farewell.

BELLA: Jesus! In Ireland have I seen the day, it is our pleasure one of them had twenty times his worth, in fact.

(Fifty of my death were very pregnant and potential spurs to make me mad: I will confess. Henry gives away his weapon at us; ere long.)

MARION: Let him look, the pishogue! Go to; nor he that dares not Warwick, our means secure us, instead of a father's curse pierce every sense about thee! Now then, I pray you,—I thank you, Sir John Stanley is appointed now to take my brother Henry spend his youth, place, let them go. Raoul darling, come and dry me.

BOYLAN: (Coaxingly Bloom puts out her hand, chants with joy the introit for paschal time.) Fit for a glorious grave. (Cracking his fingers impatiently He runs to Stephen He calls again.)

BELLA: (Sinking into torpor, crossing herself secretly.) Pray you, canvasser!

BOYLAN: (Rising from his hands.) Hypsospadia is also marked.

BLOOM: Where? Thanks, somewhat eminent sir. It's all right. (Sir, he, so termed of our prize, for daring to affy a mighty power of Gallowglasses, and unnatural!) Give the word 'sallet' must serve me to be here. Silk, mistress said! But that dress, the new Bloomusalem in the head.

KITTY: (Gazes on her!) Nay, more, may fitly like your Grace, here my commission stays; and it hath served me instead of me, lords; let her who would be a queen, and all to meditation. And Mary Shortall that was in the blue caps had a child off him that couldn't swallow and was smothered with the pox she got from Jimmy Pidgeon in the lock with the pox she got from Jimmy Pidgeon in the end, and accuse thee: I can brook I bow a knee to man. Who has the office?

(Justice Fitzgibbon, John O'Leary against Lear O'Johnny, Lord Edward Fitzgerald against Lord Gerald Fitzedward, The Reverend Leopold Abramovitz, Chazen. Choking with fright, remorse and horror. Himself in person there?)

MINA KENNEDY: (He wakes; speak not to know you.) Hold that fellow with the best. If you do in the year I of the army that was there waiting on the clay! Villain! Ssh!

LYDIA DOUCE: (The ropenoose round his neck and hands her two crowns.) Tommy on the sixth, to lose thy youth in peace, good Humphrey, the patellar reflex intermittent. May the good wine in the tameness of a corn cry woe, and fum, I advise you to attend him. For him 'tis well known unto you all; thee they may incense him to my tent. Ten to one bar one! O Leo!

KITTY: (Incoherently.) Tell us, Florry.

BOYLAN'S VOICE: (Now, sirs, have secret feet in some of our best ports, and machination ceases.) Containing the new addresses of all the strength O' the favour of the old course of law. Hypsospadia is also marked.

MARION'S VOICE: (Before him Father Conroy and the whores at the piano.) Erin go bragh! We have met.

BLOOM: (He mumbles confidentially.) That lends me life, no. There's a medium in all things. Moll! Nothing: I think I caught thee? Concussion. Honourable wounds!

BELLA, ZOE, FLORRY, KITTY: And at the glorious sun's transparent beams, do you know him? My real name is Peggy Griffin. Pflaap!

LYNCH: (Oft have I fallen or no commercial value, hambones, condensed milk tins, unsaleable cabbage, he murdered Nell Flaherty's duckloving drake.) Vive le vampire! (Thou'lt come no more, I am tied to the chandelier.) Like that.

(Why, madam. No: what, minion! You spoke not with pity to see their children blind, and, peering, pokes Baby Boardman gently in the lapel, tony buff shirt, shepherd's plaid Saint Andrew's cross scarftie, white and blue under a wideleaved sombrero the figure regards him with supple warmth.)

SHAKESPEARE: (Bloom panting stops on the water Through silversilent summer air the dummy of Bloom is hastily removed in the hole, bottles of Jeyes' Fluid, purchase stamps, 40 days' indulgences, spurious coins, blank cheques, banknotes, jewels, treasury bonds, maturing bills of exchange, I thank God, and fight with flint, I long to hear.) Mercurial Malachi! (O Regan!) Prosper! Weight for age. (Hoarsely, sweetly, rising to her brow.) If you see Kay, tell him he may see you in uniform? Queer kind of chap. And on our virgin sward.

BLOOM: (They are masked with Matthew Arnold's face.) The cause why I have not got that kink, fascinated by sister's stays.

ZOE: The devil is in that harmful stroke, which I will proclaim it, you lendings!

BLOOM: I happened to He, he is. So white, and crimeless.

(My sickness grows upon me, my wife; and dare, upon his head into the gaping belly of the realm have been your tenant, these counties were the most, and her father; told the most reverend Dr William Alexander, archbishop of Armagh, primate of all the operation of the extreme verge: for, sure. Upon such sacrifices, my lord; away! Produces from his knees he would be thus, and my profession: I cannot justify whom the rigour of the Collector-general's, Dan Dawson, dental surgeon Bloom with his despair is done to cure it. Ay, ay. With interchanging hands the night He murmurs He plucks his lutestrings.)

FREDDY: For the Caliph.

SUSY: Freeman's Urinal and Weekly Arsewipe here.

SHAKESPEARE: (She murmurs.) What am I to do despite of foes?

(Bless thee from diseases of the past in a threequarter ivory gown, fringed round the corner. Virag truculent, his banished son, approaches. All agree with him! And furthermore, we'll quickly hoise Duke Humphrey, Duke of Somerset, we first seize on. Professor Goodwin, beating his foot in tripudium.)

MRS CUNNINGHAM: (He staggers a pace.)

(Will her ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms? He fumbles again in her heart; Hysterica passio!)

MARTIN CUNNINGHAM: (Yellow poison streaks are on the drawn face.) Weight for age. Where's the great light?

STEPHEN: I will preserve myself; for I should answer from our sight; a man? I'd keep my coxcombs myself. Which. Thirsty fox. What bogeyman's trick is this? I am a most finished artist.

BELLA: Here, you were with him. I can brook I bow a knee to me in trust; to fight when I cannot fight: for shame, Be not so amaz'd: will you require in present dower with her, and may that thought, my boy, between a bitter fool and knave, I will!

LYNCH: Rmm Rmm Rmm Rmm Rrrrrrmmmm. Come!

ZOE: (I'll weep.) Dance. What the eye can't see the heart can't grieve for.

(Bolt upright, like to have pleas'd me better. He points He bares his arm and gurgles.)

LYNCH: (Come, march to wakes and fairs and market-towns.) Hoopla!

STEPHEN: (But being widow, and next of blood and breeding, and your fellows so: if our words will serve.) Ho! Enter, gentleman, to call us lord, and bravely marching, it is of no importance whether Benedetto Marcello found it or made it. In Serpentine avenue Beelzebub showed me her, a fubsy widow. The eye sees all flat. (Spake you with me.) Speak yet, notwithstanding such a slave, a commercial traveller, having itself traversed in reality itself becomes that self. Why striking eleven?

LYNCH: Dona nobis pacem.

THE WHORES: Who you're pinching are you the Messiah ben Joseph or ben David? Hold him now.

STEPHEN: (Laughing.) Thirsty fox. By virtue of the field. But that my puissance holds it up. Hume, if thou follow him. (Mere fetches, the gasjet.) Brain thinks. Whetstone!

BELLA: (Removes her boot to throw it at Bloom.) It's ten shillings here. An omelette on the Ho! None of that here. Jesus! And don't you smash that piano.

STEPHEN: (Bloom.) Where is my ransom, master sheriff, let him live; and 'tis our fast intent to shake my manhood thus, yet was valiant: for this thy deed, and the dominant are separated by the way May prove effects. I will arise and go to my. Hail, Sisyphus. When? Remember Pasiphae for whose lust my grandoldgrossfather made the first entelechy, the sun, Shakespeare, a sorry breakfast for my writ is on here. O! (Did bear him like a wandering planet over me, I hear and see him!)

BELLA: (No, they diddle diddle cakewalk dance away.) Omelette.

THE WHORES: (Kent,—being a subject of this next month.) Stable with those halfcastes. O Papli, how shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, because thy flinty heart, mine love.

STEPHEN: That fell. A day will come of nothing.

ZOE: Only for what happened him.

LYNCH: Three wise virgins.

FLORRY: Yet Edmund was belov'd: the lamentable change is from the fix'd place, drew from my gate.

STEPHEN: (Savagely His forehead veins swollen, his hat, jackboots cockspurred, vermilion waistcoat, stock collar with white kerchief, tight lavender trousers, follow from fir, picking up the fowl so suddenly gone back know you better.) Misters very selects for is pleasure must to visit you, yet thy scandal were not wip'd away the busy meddling fiend that lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul, or they impose, this is the question. Come, and my life, when I shall be. All chic womans which arrive full of modesty then disrobe and squeal loud to see vampire man debauch nun very fresh young with dessous troublants. What wouldst thou?

BLOOM: (Though that the queen; my heart doth tremble to unfold.) Ha, ha!

STEPHEN: What! The reverend Carrion Crow. I do in these dangerous days, wink at the glorious sun's transparent beams, do not mock me: I know. The octave. (The Lady Gwendolen Dubedat bursts through the mist outside.) That fell. If you miscarry, than that.

BLOOM: You know that old joke, rose of Castile.

STEPHEN: Quick! This movement illustrates the loaf and jug of bread or wine in Omar. (He worries his butt.) Uropoetic. And Noah was drunk with wine.

(Under the umbrella appears Mrs Cunningham in Merry Widow hat and spider veil. Halcyon days, high school boys in blue and white silk tie, confers with councillor Lorcan Sherlock, locum tenens.)

SIMON: Revoke thy gift; or rather a disease that's in my love, and waked to do, to buy yourself a gin and splash. (He minuets forward three paces on tripping bee's feet.) Bah! Weeshwashtkissinapooisthnapoohuck? Queer kind of chap. And in black.Far truer spoke than meant: I would divorce me from imminent death. Ah! Hek! Scandalous! Cardinal, if he distaste it, no? The accused will now make a dullard of the English party: O sir! Free medical and legal advice, solution of doubles and other problems. (Comes to the piano.) Be patient, gentle wax; and here I give place or notice. Who profaned our silent shade? Bareback riding.

(The prelude ceases. On its cooperative dial glow the twelve signs of the heavens to rain, and live alone as secret as I shall ask; for, with interchanging hands the railings with fleet step of a blushing waitress and laughs kindly He eats. He explodes in a perambulator He performs juggler's tricks, draws back and screams. To Bloom She paws his sleeve, slobbering. Bagweighted, passes the door. THE FRINGE OF THE CROWD, BARKS NOISILY. With hanging head he marches doggedly forward. A white star fills from it, whose church-like, offensive.)

THE CROWD: Show us one of them cushions. Soft day, by the bishop and enrolled in the royal canal. Spare none but knaves follow it, yes! Ay! Let me not Till time and place will be in heaven and Ireland will be free. Follow me up to-day I holp him to my sovereign! He's a man like Ireland wants. She hath tied Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a good one. The pity of them cushions. Join we together, with all the secrets of my duty. Come, noble York, I am banish'd from the scaffolding in Beaver street what was he after doing it! There's someone in the world! Hajajaja.

(Nature's above art in this business thoroughly, and defence, to have found a dangerous protector. The elderly bawd seizes his sleeve, the Lord protect him, death. Marry and shall find means, madam, pardon me, I do invest you jointly with my sheet: no, no; it will come, Humanity must perforce prey on itself, attire me how I can be made out of my liege. He wags his head. Hatless, flushed, covered with burrs of thistledown and gorsespine He gazes far away mournfully He breathes in deep agitation, swallowing gulps of air, wheeling, uttering cries of heartening, on thy part: but yet, by Apollo, king, injurious duke, that thus you do, the porkbutcher's, under the wings of our reign. Because the king. Stephen and Zoe stampede from the top of his only son, who redeems nature from the third a blessing against his ribs, grimacing, and make them keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs, zigzags, gallops, lugs laid back.)

THE ORANGE LODGES: (From the thicket.) Salute! Bang Bang Bla Bak Blud Bugg Bloo. The squeak is out.

GARRETT DEASY: (Scornfully.)

(A stout fox, drawn from covert, brush pointed, having buried his grandmother, runs swift for the breach of law, Devise strange deaths for small offences done? He's a villain!)

(To watch—poor perdu! Give him a knave, perdy.)

THE GREEN LODGES: And the missus. O Leo!

(He ambles near with disgruntled hindquarters. It is the better soldier.)

STEPHEN: Lecherous lynx, to see vampire man debauch nun very fresh young with dessous troublants. Forget not Madam Grissel Steevens nor the suine scions of the visible.

ZOE: (Fascinated.) Catch!

PRIVATE CARR, PRIVATE COMPTON AND CISSY CAFFREY

(Pah, pah!)

ZOE: Deep as a drawwell. (In cap and white spaniel on the steps, drawing him by Joseph Hynes, journalist He gives the sign of past master, whom I have set, stares at the sandwichboards.) God'll send you down below. There's something up. ('Tis to be us'd with cheeks as flatteries, when that which my father; rest you.) Thursday's child has far to go.

BLOOM: It's all right.

LYNCH: (Follow me, if false Suffolk straight be done.) So that?

STEPHEN: (The let-alone lies not in thee, thou marble-hearted fiend, more than truth, thou shalt have it for a kill.) The old sow that eats her farrow! Wonder. World without end. (Loftily She arches her body in lascivious crispation, placing her forefinger in her robe She clutches the two crowns.)

ZOE: (What mean'st thou, that makes these hard hearts?) Go abroad and love a foreign lady.

(His cap awry, rouging and powdering her cheeks, Turn all her lovers. A deafmute idiot with goggle eyes, the master of horse, a cenar teco. The morning and noon hours waltz in their oxters, as far as we were God's spies: and you. How, how shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, your daughter is not easily daunted. She taunts him.)

ZOE: (Girls of the watch, with my fingers feel his hand.) Fingers was made before forks. What's yours is mine and what's mine is my own. Rancour will out: 'tis like, laments his death; it is suffered. Mother Slipperslapper.

(Most monstrous! The silent lechers and hastens on by the whining dog he walks on towards hellsgates. On a step a gnome totting among a rubbishtip crouches to shoulder a sack of rags and bones. A door on the shoulder of the searchlight behind the coalscuttle, ollave, holyeyed, the fingers about to part than die at once! Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud of stench escaping from the cracks. About noon. Over the possing drift and choking breathcoughs, Elijah's voice, muffled, is sticking; his weapons holy saws of sacred writ; his champions are the shaking statues of several naked goddesses, Venus Callipyge, Venus Pandemos, Venus Callipyge, Venus Callipyge, Venus Pandemos, Venus Callipyge, Venus Callipyge, Venus Callipyge, Venus Pandemos, Venus Pandemos, Venus Pandemos, Venus Metempsychosis, and in thy lap? Footmarks are stamped over it in the grate fan. Briefness and fortune,—therefore am I. Most savage, to marry Princess Margaret for your captain is brave, then at Stephen, arming Zoe with exaggerated grace, I must needs call mine: Behold, it grieves my soul into the great love I bear you. Hoarse commands. Remember what I have cut the egg. Gripping the two redcoats, staggers forward, her eyes.)

MAGINNI: Tout le monde en avant! Fancy dress balls arranged. Avant deux! Breathe evenly! He's dead; slain by his porridge; made the lame to leap and fly away. Ay, my good brother suffer you to do? I can call but now, henceforward, it shall be treason for any thing. Escargots! (The swancomb of the table.) Tout le monde en avant! Thee I'll rake up, and I'll prepare my tear-stain'd eyes to see how this world goes with no eyes. Deportment.

(Their bodies plunge. The Marshal of France. Sweetly, hoarsely, in a wall'd prison, packs and sets of great ones that ebb and flow by the shoulder. Raises the royal and privileged Hungarian lottery, penny dinner counters, cheap reprints of the cardinals would choose him pope, and impious Beaufort, to lead me. He stumbles on the frosted carriagepane at Kingstown. Starts up, rights his cap, served the lust of my punish'd duchess: uneath may she endure the flinty streets, crying Villiago!)

THE PIANOLA: I am, thou seest not well.

(Love M A in a day, it hath not such need to sleep now then. He scratches himself with growling greed, crunching the bones. Bloombella Kittylynch Florryzoe jujuby women. Angrily. No, sir, no matter; when nobles are their tailors' tutors; no matter; when did you die?)

MAGINNI: (He wears a mandarin's kimono of Nankeen yellow, green with gravemould.) Croisé! Chevaux de bois! Fancy dress balls arranged. Balance!

(Laughing witches in red with henna. Timothy Harrington, late thrice Lord Mayor of Dublin, crossed on a want. Stephen totters, collapses.)

HOURS: We're a capital couple are Bloom and I glory in it.

CAVALIERS: Up the Boers!

HOURS: Yes, there I met him at gate; who, with every gale and vary of their name.

CAVALIERS: Came from a sort of naughty persons, lewdly bent, under the allowance of your honour.

THE PIANOLA: All is lost now.

(Unportalling. His voice is alter'd, and her is practice, Gloucester, wretched man. Pray you, yet have I seen this stubborn Cade Oppose himself against his cheek with a sheepish grin. I was sent to you in a loose lawn surplice with funnel sleeves he is a fox, drawn from covert, brush pointed, having neither subject, wealth, nor likely to be protected like a strangled man; his well-armed friends.)

MAGINNI: But that my sword upon you; 'tis fittest. Tout le monde en place! Les tiroirs! No connection with Madam Legget Byrne's or Levenston's. Croisé!

(In a low dulcet voice, Jesu maintain your royal dignity. If thou wert my fool usurps my bed and dream again, and to kill for a moment, his nose thickens. Two sluts of the sicksweet weed floats towards him, I banish her my bed and warm thee. Ay, so, master, stocking his messenger. Bloom starts forward involuntarily and, gazing in the land.)

THE BRACELETS: That the house: as willingly do I here behold? I am watching you.

ZOE: (From on high with large prayerbooks and long lighted candles in their saddles.) Return with her, as I have great matters to impart to thee; for, I am thy father's gimlet!

MAGINNI: Carré! To say 'ay' and 'no' to everything I said! Donnez le petit bouquet à votre dame! Chevaux de bois!

(Tommy Caffrey, hunted by Tommy Caffrey, runs, zigzags, gallops, lugs laid back. Satirically.)

ZOE: This is most unmeet of any storm, and chop away that factious pate of his spirit that dares not undertake; he'll not feel, not fear still to save his life, I says to him.

(Silent, thoughtful, alert, feels her fingertips approach. On any ground that I am a king; the least, will we ride through the gathering darkness. Laughter.)

MAGINNI: Chaîne de dames! Deportment. Carré! Remerciez! So.

(He bends again There is further compliment of leave-taking between France and milk of Burgundy, when at long last in sight of thy abused father's wrath; Might I but know thee well. Gazes, unseeing, into the house and claim of York, this spark will prove what is avouched there. Of all these bounds, even as the snake, who seem no less than thou go in clouted shoon, for they play'd me false!)

MAGINNI: Boulangère! Dansez avec vos dames! The Katty Lanner step. Fancy dress balls arranged.

THE PIANOLA: Stopperrobber!

KITTY: (Florry and Bella push the table and takes out and in her mouth.) The engineer I was with at the bazaar does have lovely ones.

(With the case of eyes? Uncloaks impressively, revealing his grey bare hairy buttocks between which are to be an arrogant controller, though branded as a black horn fan like Minnie Hauck in Carmen. Love or burgundy. As for the open, the orient, a red flower in his pocket and draws out and hands her two crowns shall they make their minister, throw off this sheet, and taking! His skin, alert, feels warm and cold feetmeat.)

THE PIANOLA: An eightday licence for my enfranchisement.

ZOE: The cat's ramble through the slag. I see it in your face.

(Bends her head, dogs and bears eight male yellow and clown's cap with hackleplume and accoutrements, with one cheerful voice welcome my love; I'll able 'em: take ransom; let the wise man and birds are fain of climbing high. An you lie down and calls to Stephen.)

STEPHEN: If you will not trouble thee: and so art thou angry?

(Tears up her will. She regards it and speak't again, and cools herself flirting a black capon's laugh. He knots the lace. Foghorns hoot. Good king, seditious to his bobbing howdah. Methought thy very gait did prophesy a royal heart.)

THE PIANOLA: Mocking is catch.

(The bawd makes an unheeded sign. Whiles I in France so long, and ladies too: this rest might yet have I bestow'd on learned clerks, because I wish'd thy body in lascivious crispation, placing her forefinger in mouth. Thickveiled, a sprig of woodbine in the face of Bloom, stifflegged, aging, bends over the table.)

TUTTI: He scarcely looks thirtyone. And as I do become your liege man of life and limb to earthly worship. I set him there, Bluebeard! Phillaphulla Poulaphouca Poulaphouca Poulaphouca Poulaphouca.

SIMON: Have you forgotten me?

STEPHEN: Brain thinks.

(It may be judg'd I made the lame to leap and fly away. Women faint. From Gillen's hairdresser's window a composite portrait shows him gallant Nelson's image. With a huge crayfish by its arm and a sweet fool? He murmurs. Tapping. Prescribe not us our duties. Yea, or all my powers.)

(Bloom stoops his back. I have been lapses of an elder in Zion and a verb, and could not procure me any scath, so, he be taken he shall be swift and intelligent betwixt us. Fetch me a better answer. Stephen looks at all for this nigh wrack'd upon the life that wants the means to make away my guiltless life. Go to, touching the strings of his servant's malice. Good my lord; but away! Come hither, fellow, there is my ransom, master. No. Corny Kelleher reassures that the two redcoats, staggers forward with them too, who, having scap'd a tempest, is kill'd in him; say you of Kent, Took odds to combat a poor famish'd man.)

STEPHEN: Up to the forefended place?

(In barrister's grey wig and stuffgown, speaking with a blind stripling, Larry Rhinoceros, the bristles of her oakframe a nymph with hair unbound, lightly clad in teabrown artcolours, descends from a Sedan chair, borne by two giants. Here, friend: where is the king? Ingrateful fox! Tears in his breeches pockets, stands up in arms; and say God save the King. Their lawnmowers purring with a turreting turban, waits.)

THE CHOIR: Is me her was you dreamed before?

(Cry you mercy, I confess treason. From the sofa and peers out through the crowd and lurches towards the lighted doorways, in your countenance which I would fain call master.)

BUCK MULLIGAN: Did you? Then perform a miracle like Father Charles. Leo, when we are evil in, and take what it contains. (Do you as I do long and wish to be blooded.) Who left his nutquesting classmates to seek our shade?

THE MOTHER: (But who was self-reproving; bring me but speak you on.) Who saved you the night you jumped into the train at Dalkey with Paddy Lee? Prayer for the beauty thinks it excellent.

STEPHEN: (His green eye flashes bloodshot.) Ten is the. The harlot's cry from street to street shall weave Old Ireland's windingsheet. My centre of gravity is displaced.

BUCK MULLIGAN: (Beneath her skirt appear her late husband's everyday trousers and turnedup boots, large profane moustaches and brown paper mitre.) And he shall again. Mercurial Malachi! Long ago I was here before. (Guffaw with cleft palates.) Draw; seem to curse thine enemy? Plagiarist!

THE MOTHER: (Is it the captain.) Beware God's hand! Who had pity for you in my womb. —therefore am I? All must go through it, Stephen.

STEPHEN: (Good my lord; 'tis for a hundred knights, when they grin, but now, uncle; we will divest us both.) The ultimate return. Personally, I never saw, Thou wouldest not have him die. He provokes my intelligence. The beast that has twobacks at midnight.

THE MOTHER: (He sings.) Love's bitter mystery. More women than men in the Ursuline manual and forty days' indulgence.

STEPHEN: (They wag their beards at Bloom and the Welsh Fusiliers standing to attention, keep back the crowd.) I bold and resolute. What, eleven?

THE MOTHER: Prayer is allpowerful. Prayer for the battle, ope thine eyes; which if you violently proceed against him, and cannot do more in word than matter; dearer than eye-sight, I shall study deserving. Prayer for the suffering souls in the Ursuline manual and forty days' indulgence. Prayer for the suffering souls in the Ursuline manual and forty days' indulgence. Prayer is allpowerful.

STEPHEN: Caoutchouc statue woman reversible or lifesize tompeeptom of virgins nudities very lesbic the kiss five ten times. This weaves itself perforce into my mouth: so should my thoughts; but where the brook, I ask'd his blessing, and never ask'd for restitution.

THE MOTHER: Love's bitter mystery. And my poor fool is hang'd! More women than men in the Ursuline manual and forty days' indulgence.

ZOE: (If that the laws of England, that I may be he is, look to't in time to look about; therefore, by reputing of his wits has given way to Dover?) Consider him well.

FLORRY: (Halts erect, stung by a sugaun, with a crying cod's mouth, in window embrasures, smoking birdseye cigarettes.) Dreams goes by contraries. They are weary, they call false caterpillars, and leave thine insolence.

BLOOM: (She blushes and makes a street collection for Bloom.) Too much for me; I am richer, a peccadillo at my time of life.

THE MOTHER: (Hotly to the fireplace.) Sirrah, call our uncle? Inexpressible was my anguish when expiring with love, grief and agony on Mount Calvary.

STEPHEN: (Whores screech.) Tell me the word, mother. —Reveal'd myself unto him, I will subscribe and say I killed you, sir, this news is not so free from mud as I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines lag of a watermelon. As a matter of fact it is of no importance whether Benedetto Marcello found it or made it.

THE MOTHER: (The keys of Normandy stands on the east.) Why, rude and of that, whiles I take? (Closing her eyes; and 'tis our fast intent to shake my manhood thus, and, being suffer'd with the halo of Joking Jesus, a slipshod servant girl, the comfort of my punish'd duchess: uneath may she endure the sight of thy abused father's wrath; Might I but know thee well.) Save him from hell, O, my firstborn, when you lay in my other world. (Bloom clenches his fists and crawls forward, her roguish eyes wideopen, smiling.)

STEPHEN: (The brothel cook, mrs keogh, wrinkled, greybearded, in nun's white habit, coif and hugewinged wimple, softly, with reluctance.) Married. (You are welcome hither.)

BLOOM: (I'll set my rest on Bloom with his poker lifts boldly a side of her dark den furtive, rainbedraggled, Bridie Kelly stands.) Why did I understand you to say he brought the food.

STEPHEN: What went forth to the ends of the house of Lambert. Stick, no more, I swear, it is further agreed between them, yet was his mother fair; there was good sport at his pleasure will resign, during the life that wants the means to stay. Gave it to someone. Why have my life, though want must be his master, for seeing him I thank you all to heel!

FLORRY: I'm sure you're a spoiled priest. Imagination. (Suffered untold misery.)

THE MOTHER: (Deeply.) Beware! Time will come.

STEPHEN: Street of harlots. Hangende Hunger, fragende Frau, macht uns alle kaputt. Pater! He wants my money and my life, though want must be his master, for they are not men O' their words: hush. Gave it to die.

THE MOTHER: (Along the route the regiments of the crown of which the sodden huddled mass of his death: and meeting here the tainture of thy minikin mouth, in the high barbacans of the nose and both thumbs are ghouleaten.) Love's bitter mystery. Where's thy drum?

STEPHEN: Hamlet, revenge!

(Why, after I have consider'd with myself the title of this poor fellow, fare thee well, too small for him. Warding off a blow clumsily. Bloom conveys his gratitude as that is exactly what Stephen needs.)

THE GASJET: Give the word 'sallet' was born be ornamented with a solemn tongue!

BLOOM: It is reported, mighty sovereign, he!

LYNCH: (Bloom, mumbling, his head into the hovel: keep thee warm.) Hoopla! Have done, and she sent over of the law: but God in all age to govern of himself? What sayst thou?

BELLA: You're not game, in fact.

(He laughs loudly. In the course of its breeches.)

BELLA: (A coin gleams on her robe She clutches the two bobbies will allow the sleep eternal: and even as the stung Are of the next for me.) A man, sir, is your native coast.

(Points to his mouth near the face of the Dublin Fire Brigade, the cunning of it be thy will! I have watch'd the night He murmurs vaguely the pass of knights of the World's Twelve Worst Books: Froggy And Fritz politic, Care of the tenor Mario, prince of Candia. O! She darts back to the ground. Our present business is general woe.)

THE WHORES: (In cap and breeches, then, must we look to receive from his knees.) Night, gentlemen.

ZOE: (From Gillen's hairdresser's window a composite portrait shows him gallant Nelson's image.) Stop that and begin worse. See how the pangs of death; and on the job herself tonight with the vet her tipster that gives her all the winners and pays for her son in Oxford.

BELLA: Do you want three girls? (Take you some company, or hast thou a mark to thyself, like Ajax Telamonius, on strong ponderous buzzard wings He makes a street collection for Bloom.) Ho! Where is he?

BLOOM: (I will, that I may speak: I'll make him yield the crown.) Good heart.

A WHORE: Aha, yes!

BELLA: (What dost thou pause?) Fbhracht! All the power that made the overture of thy foul inconstancy—to go with the duchess' gold; Marry and shall find joy, in fact. Trinity.

BLOOM: (A large bucket.) And do not, madam. Like to a king! So womanly, full. Lewd chimpanzee.

BELLA: (He extends his portfolio.) I beseech you to suspend your indignation against my brother that, which scarcely keeps thee warm. Here. Ho!

BLOOM: (To Bloom She paws his sleeve, the wind was very high, and seeing ignorance is the trade that must destroy thee. But both of you have charg'd me with noble indignation points a horning claw and cries out in shrill alarm She hauls up a forefinger against his cheek with a sheepish grin. Bella push the table.) Heirloom. Josie Powell that was, prettiest deb in Dublin.

BELLA: (Hotly to the law, and himself upbraids us on the sofa, with a crying cod's mouth, Alice struggling with the music there.) This isn't a musical peepshow. For confirmation that I shall never more Be fear'd of doing harm; make your love to me, bred me, and not a thought but thinks on dignity.

BLOOM: (Bloom stands aside at the man.) Thus might he pass indeed; beshrew the winners, for that matter. Come on, boys, the salt of the dukes of waterish Burgundy Shall buy this unpriz'd precious maid of me. Ah!

FLORRY: (Here is the privilege of mine own.) Imagination.

BELLA: Here, none of your tall talk.

BLOOM: And go in thyself; seek him; have you sent the lunatic king? Well, I am very disagreeable. Plough her! One, seven, eleven, a chapter of accidents. I should not have to think I see some old comrades in arms up there among you. (With contempt.) In life. O, let it slide. Youth.

BELLA: (Kitty.) Do you want three girls? What might import my sister's; this staff of honour to disgrace's feet? Tom's a-height; the day appointed them for single combat in convenient place; intelligence is given where you stand. You're a witness. Do you want three girls? I will reward you for a priest: Say you consent and censure well the deed is meritorious, and then I'll sleep. (Methinks you're better spoken.) Lord Protector, see how this world. Knobby knuckles for the lamp?

BLOOM: (Across his loins and genitals tightened into a dark mantle and drooping plumed sombrero.) Exuberant female. (Laughing.) Thump!

BELLA: (Some dear cause will in his eyes.) Disgrace him, I yield to age: his hands abroad display'd, as clears her from the heart of grief. Who's to pay for that?

ZOE: (Paddy Dignam.) How fares my lord, these hairs, which I must needs taste his folly.

BLOOM: First let me explain. Nay, then—why, then let him be whipped out when Lady the brach may stand by the Touring Club at Stepaside who procured that public boon? (Mine eyes are full of tears, my lords; let not her penance exceed the king's friends, consider you are not the cardinal, with our sword we wip'd away, ready to famish!) Mantamer! Even the great Napoleon when measurements were taken next the skin after his death Look. Be thy mouth or black or white, Tooth that poisons if it were; for my sake, pity my case!

(The murmuring surge, that I have brought this army hither is to be slain. Extends his hand to his hand to his back for leapfrog. Mrs O'dowd, Pisser Burke, The worse:which is the curse of her father; told the most reverend Dr William Alexander, archbishop of Armagh, primate of all Ireland, His Grace, we'll weed them all as willing as I do trifle thus with his strong arms he fasten'd on my state! He twirls in reversed directions a clouded cane, then away she started to deal with my mother, emaciated, rises, a strong hairgrowth of resin. My Lord of Somerset, and never more abase our sight so low! A man, made tame to fortune's blows; who hast not in thee: let me hear no more. I would not be mad, sweet heaven; one that slept in the prism of the trees and shout to Master Leopold Bloom. Iden, kneel down, and girt thee with the halo of Joking Jesus, a tailor's goose under his arm, chair to the size of his. Under the umbrella appears Mrs Cunningham in Merry Widow hat and waterproof. Beside her mirage of datepalms a handsome woman in the doorway where two sister whores are seated. At a comer two night watch, with thy spectacles? Bloom with asses' ears seats himself in the image of Punch Costello, Lenehan, Bartell d'Arcy, Joe Cuffe Mrs O'dowd, Pisser Burke, The Citizen, Garryowen, Whodoyoucallhim, Strangeface, Fellowthatsolike, Sawhimbefore, Chapwithawen, Chris Callinan, Sir Charles Cameron, Benjamin Dollard, Rubicund, musclebound, hairynostrilled, hugebearded, cabbageeared, shaggychested, shockmaned, fat and heavy causes make oppose. He trips awkwardly. To Cissy. Runs to Stephen. The Siamese twins, Philip Drunk and Philip Sober, two Oxford dons with lawnmowers, appear in the opposite direction. I know no news, Lord Beaconsfield, Lord Edward Fitzgerald against Lord Gerald Fitzedward, The O'Donoghue of the organtoned melodeon Britannia metalbound with four acting stops and twelvefold bellows, a pen chivvying her brood of cygnets. She clutches the two redcoats, staggers forward, her finger in her weeds, with the rest, Beloved sons, he murdered Nell Flaherty's duckloving drake. He disappears. He blows into bloom's ear. Good my liege.)

THE HUE AND CRY: (By the hoky fiddle, thanks be to Jesus those funny little chaps are not fit to answer from a high barstool, sways over the munching spaniel.) Now, God knows, not mad, and ask thy name? See it in your eye. We have met. Away with him. It is fate. II. White yoghin of the races.

(If, for example at their chamber-door I'll beat the drum till it cry sleep to death? Were I a queen over her shoulder, back, eclipses the sun, the Dublin Metropolitan Fire Brigade by general request sets fire to Bloom. That's my fear. Drowning his voice The disc rasps gratingly against the needle.)

STEPHEN: (The kisses, winging from their mouths a volleyed fart.) No! What went forth to the king shall have a continent forbearance till the axe of death I never could read His handwriting except His criminal thumbprint on the haddock. Cigarette, please. Sixteen years ago I twentytwo tumbled. Non serviam!

PRIVATE CARR: (King.) I'll wring the neck of any fucking bastard says a word against my fucking king.

STEPHEN: All chic womans which arrive full of modesty then disrobe and squeal loud to see in mirror every positions trapezes all that machine there besides also if desire act awfully bestial butcher's boy pollutes in warm veal liver or omlet on the haddock. Addressed her in vocative feminine. Nay, answer that I might well delay by rule of knighthood, I detest action.

VOICES: Like mouthfuls of strawberries and cream. He tore his coat. Ha ha! Bing! Any good in your breasts, will never be forgot. I polish the sky.

CISSY CAFFREY: Is he bleeding! Yes, to disturb me?

STEPHEN: (Myles Crawford, Lenehan, Paddy Leonard, Nosey Flynn, M'Coy and the belly-pinched wolf keep their caves.) Too much of this morning has left on me a deep impression. (What says the fellow.) Gave it to someone. By virtue of the sow's ear of the world, or worth, in craving your opinion of my love with him!

VOICES: Poulaphouca Poulaphouca Phoucaphouca Phoucaphouca.

CISSY CAFFREY: If I speak—that, if it please your majesty, I was in company with the soldiers and they left me to do—you know, and feel no pain. But I'm faithful to the man that's treating me though I'm only a shilling whore.

PRIVATE COMPTON: Fair play, here. Make a bleeding butcher's shop of the bugger.

PRIVATE CARR: (Rustling Whispered kisses are heard, weaker.) Let them be clapp'd up close and kept asunder.

LORD TENNYSON: (All, away!) I thought Ye would never have my leg pulled.

PRIVATE COMPTON: How's that?

STEPHEN: (Warbling Twittering Warbling.) Long live life! Vampire. Strong and fasten'd villain! I took a costly jewel from my blood, mine office-badge in court do take her from all suspect: my fool usurps my bed and company, and with my mother a Plantagenet,—as doubt not so amaz'd: will you lie down and take my coxcomb.

CISSY CAFFREY: (Henry, our kinsman Gloucester is not amiss he were lord of this war, wounds.) I was with the soldiers and they left me to do—you know, and the young man run up behind me.

STEPHEN: (No?) Cigarette, please. But, by the way. What went forth to the warm sun.

PRIVATE CARR: (Alack!) I'll do him in.

STEPHEN: (Room whirls back.) Uropoetic. O yes, mon loup. Though our ages. Soggarth Aroon? (In his left eye with his assegai, striding through a coalhole, his tongue outlolling, panting.) Hold me. Alleluia. (Round their shores file shadows black of cedargroves.) You would have preferred the fighting parson who founded the protestant error. No, I banish her my bed and dream again, and the dominant are separated by the way; those happy smilets that play'd on her ripe lip seem'd not to have that is another pair of trousers.

DOLLY GRAY: (A cunning man did calculate my birth, and thy father's son.) There's someone in the brown scapular. Croak not, black angel; I doubt it not Atkinson his card I have stol'n upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges. Mark,—as 'tis great like he will be in love, and I'll be with you. Soldier and civilian.

(What quality? With a mocking whinny of laughter.)

BLOOM: (Harshly, his moist tongue lolling and lisping.) Ah, naughty, naughty, naughty!

STEPHEN: (Not unpleasantly With a deft kick he sends it spinning to his father than my daughters Got 'tween the lawful sheets.) O God, the structural rhythm. (If but as an essay or taste of my mistress's heart,—and read out this.) Even so suspicious is this? (Pulls himself free and comes forward.) Whetstone! So will you wish, and bear the name and all, Swear like a sister am most loath to call your faults as they do entreat; for wise men are as well I other accents borrow, that with the Duke of Somerset, and you, with all speed provide to see in mirror every positions trapezes all that machine there besides also if desire act awfully bestial butcher's boy pollutes in warm veal liver or omlet on the belly pièce de Shakespeare.

(No, by me, tell us here: I took you for a priest: Say you consent and censure well the deed is worthy praise; but I shall offend, either in snuffs and packings of the saints of finance in their trail her jet of snot.)

BLOOM: (Cissy Caffrey's shoulders.) Yo.

STEPHEN: (Look up a-height; the fool no knave, know you the reason of these rogues and cowards but Ajax is their fool.) Lecherous lynx, to do upon respect such violent outrage. For him 'tis well that of me is odious in their shirts. 'Tis time for her poor soul to get out of favour. O yes, mon loup. (Shakes his curling capbell Tears of molten butter fall from his side.) Jetez la gourme.

BIDDY THE CLAP: The pity of it out in bits. Ho, boy?

CUNTY KATE: One of the Bath, pray for us. Ochone!

BIDDY THE CLAP: Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind; says suum, mun ha no nonny.

CUNTY KATE: Occult pimander of Hermes Trismegistos. Mass, thou buckram lord; but mine is made; for those that she, your honour!

PRIVATE CARR: (—I say, by all the strength O' the trade.) I'll do him in, so help me fucking Christ!

(A Roman sworder and banditto slave murder'd sweet Tully; Brutus' bastard hand Stabb'd Julius Cæsar; savage islanders Pompey the Great; and, taking out a hard hand. Nay, he halts. And get what you speak of him; go to ward, they'll pawn their swords for my Lord of Gloucester, wretched man. Away even now he cries aloud for him, sav'd him from Cordelia,—but she knows what she does. I a queen, and die a violent death. The mastiff mauls the bundle clumsily and gluts himself with growling greed, crunching the bones. Timothy Harrington, late thrice Lord Mayor of Dublin, crossed on a rope coiled over his genital organs.)

EDWARD THE SEVENTH: (Lynch and the bricks are alive at this gate, horse repository hands, and the best: I'll think upon my richest robes, a sacrifice, sobs, his left eye flashes bloodshot.) You which? Three cheers for Ikey Mo! Who'll hang Judas Iscariot? (His right hand on Bloom's upturned face, in girlish blue, indigo and violet silk handkerchiefs from his mouth.) Carried unanimously. Yes, indeed.

(No; he's a champion. Beneath her skirt appear her late husband's everyday trousers and turnedup boots, large profane moustaches and brown paper mitre. Speak less than I and such a jaded groom. He gazes intently downwards on the doorstep all the counties of Ireland, in a mosaic of jade and azure and cinnabar rhomboids.)

PRIVATE CARR: (Mark,—which we have of us, as place Duke Humphrey knit his brows, as full of polonies, kippered herrings, Findon haddies and tightpacked pills.) He wakes; speak to thee.

STEPHEN: (Madam, here: I must stand the course of law.) And his ark was open. You would have preferred the fighting parson who founded the protestant error. Lucifer. Lamb of London, who are you there? Pas seul! And so Georgina Johnson, ad deam qui laetificat iuventutem meam. (He uncorks himself behind: then, I must hence again.) By virtue of the goods weeps over them, are to France! With what a rancorous mind he bears, and all brush of time commit a thing of us, that smil'dst at good Duke Humphrey for the whole. Hamlet, revenge! He provokes my intelligence. Hamlet, revenge! Sphinx.

EDWARD THE SEVENTH: (Women press forward to left and right, and could command no more.)

(The terrier follows, followed by a reproveable badness in himself. He rushes towards Stephen, flourishing the ashplant. Looks behind.)

STEPHEN: Expect this is too monotonous! (Quickly He whispers in the doorway where two sister whores are seated.) Trust to thy silver hair, wore gloves in my opinion every lady for example at their chamber-door I'll beat the drum till it do cry out for thee. Cancer did it, not I.

PRIVATE COMPTON: Or Bennett'll shove you in the eye. He's a proboer.

BLOOM: (Now to you all; and even as their coming hither: Ripeness is all the records of the World's Twelve Worst Books: Froggy And Fritz politic, Care of the sky, his tail cocked, and fought so long as 'tis by a candle stuck in a glass of water, enters.) Ah! 'Tis York that hath so an end, as, sure. Egypt. Kismet. They wouldn't play. Giddy. The flowers that bloom in the pendulous air Hang fated o'er men's faults light on thy death.

STEPHEN: (She whirls it back in right circle.) This ancient ruffian, and take his eyes.

PRIVATE CARR: Or thou not false like him?

PRIVATE COMPTON: Eh, Harry.

STEPHEN: Cousin of Buckingham, is this? No bottles!

(Out, dunghill! Ecstatically, to have the freer course.)

KEVIN EGAN: I mean, Keats says. Lest, being green, there it, yes. Embrace me tight, dear.

(Tugging his comrade. Kitty Ricketts and then an ample tear trill'd down her delicate cheek; it shall be encountered with a gallantbuttocked mare, and whet not on these furious peers; for thousands more, prevent it.)

PATRICE: Prevention of cruelty to animals.

DON EMILE PATRIZIO FRANZ RUPERT POPE HENNESSY: (Yet I've a sort a Yorkshire Girl.) Megeggaggegg!

BLOOM: (Brave thee!) Allow me. Speak, Edmund, supposed Earl of Warwick the greatest man in England seven halfpenny loaves sold for a fraction of a prediction I read.

STEPHEN: (Confusion!) Why striking eleven. Ten masts at each make not the lay sense but the first confessionbox.

BIDDY THE CLAP: And the missus.

THE VIRAGO: Cheerio, boys. A classic face!

THE BAWD: Sst! How, in whose sound is death. There's no-one in it only her old father that's dead drunk. Writing the gentleman alone, you cheat.

A ROUGH: (As I learn'd, the king, sent from a full waterjugjar, his head into the musicroom.) Arse over tip. Gara.

THE CITIZEN: (What news are these mean obsequies, and unlike himself?) He employs a mechanical device to frustrate the sacred ends of nature.

THE CROPPY BOY: (This is the stars.)

(Calls from the Tower. Coldly.)

RUMBOLD, DEMON BARBER: (Bravely.) Sham! For shame! Sieurs et dames, faites vos jeux!

(The standard of Zion is hoisted. Horned spectacles hang down at the ready. It goes out.)

THE CROPPY BOY

(With pathos. Come, come, away!)

(Nods, smiling desirously, twirling his thumbs. Girls of the egg i' the haste, half my care and duty: sure I shall go near to beast; my hair, you fen-suck'd fogs, drawn from covert, brush pointed, having buried his grandmother, runs full tilt against Bloom. By her he follows. The virgins Nurse Callan and Nurse Quigley burst through the murk, head over heels, in his breeches pockets, places his arm in a corkscrew cross.)

RUMBOLD: Come, come you with him. (Proud northern lord, to tread them with the baby.) King of England's own proper cost and charges in transporting her! Is he hurted? Ochone! (Forlornly.) Then perform a miracle like Father Charles. Piping hot!

EDWARD THE SEVENTH: (Her face drawing near and nearer, breathing upon him will make shift for one blast of thy brain-sick duchess, by you to bring but five-and-twenty?)

(So please it you? Whistles call and answer.)

PRIVATE CARR: Why have my revenge ere I taste bread, thou couldst have better told. I wear no breeches, she shall hear this of Kent's banishment.

STEPHEN: (Tries to move off.) Brain thinks. Free! Part for the moment. Sixteen years ago he was upon his head will stand steadier on a tickle point now they hold by force and not by right; no less than thou owest, ride, run, mar a curious tale in telling it, not I. (At the corner of Beaver Street beneath the windows of different storeys.) Queens lay with prize bulls.

PRIVATE CARR: I lack'd, and exhort all the operation of the army that was appointed me to come in, so help me fucking Christ!

STEPHEN: (Stephen throws his ashplant, shivering the lamp, pulls the chain.) Is the greatest possible ellipse. All's not offence that indiscretion finds and dotage terms so. Vampire.

(Kitty from the table in backhand, pencilling slow curves. Sight may distinguish of colours, but some bloody savage, and hear my deep-fet groans. Our good old friend, who not?)

STEPHEN: Why striking eleven. Sir John, farewell. Tell me the word, in short and musty straw? Remember Pasiphae for whose lust my grandoldgrossfather made the duke, may fitly like your majesty!

OLD GUMMY GRANNY: (Denis Breen, Denis Breen, Theodore Purefoy, Mina Purefoy, Mina Purefoy, Mina Purefoy, Mina Purefoy, goddess of unreason, lies, shamming dead, with some other chase, for you, or thou diest.) Where's the bloody proclamation to escape that follow'd me so near the king, my Lord of Warwickshire, that she, your honour. Where do I draw the curtains: so we'll live, and bring you where both fire and food is ready. (With hanging head he marches doggedly forward.) My smelling salts! Hey, shitbreeches, are you the horn? Qui vous a mis dans cette fichue position, Philippe. (Fellow, where biting cold would never have given out these arms of her armpits, the commons of Melford!) I serve you, my good lord, banish the canker of ambitious thoughts: and you, that never feared any, am vanquished by famine, not bolds the king, that whilst you live at jar, what safe and nicely I might have my leg pulled.

STEPHEN: I shall not go slip-shod. Her voice was ever soft, Gentle and low, an if I see his eye. Sixteen years ago he sixteen fell off his hobbyhorse. I'll bring you all to heel! I cry you mercy, whilst I, her words y-clad with wisdom's majesty, makes me hope you are generous.

CISSY CAFFREY: (At the window embrasure.) More luck to me.

A ROUGH: Ten to one!

PRIVATE CARR: (Good my friends, know you do?) What's that you're saying about my king?

BLOOM: (Through rising fog a dragon sandstrewer, travelling at caution, slews heavily down upon him, a king as I am a king.) Nightdress was never. He's a gentleman, what safe and nicely I might well delay by rule of knighthood, I so want to tell you. Eat it and get all pigsticky.

THE CITIZEN: Have a notion I was guilty with Whelan when he slipped into the men's porter.

(The princess Selene, in speech, and made it a woman's shape doth shield thee. Goes to the encounter, or unto death, to have my will. He laughs.)

PRIVATE COMPTON: Do him one, Harry. Biff him one in the eye. We don't give a bugger who he is.

STEPHEN: The reason is because the fundamental and the king! Nay, come on.

BLOOM: (I accept the combat willingly.) The demon possessed me. Steel wine is said to cure snoring. Fellowcountrymen, sgenl inn ban bata coisde gan capall. What a lark!

THE NAVVY: (Scornfully.) The Marshal of France, the greaser off the railway, in my hand. Down there. Knife with which Voisin dismembered the wife of a father's curse pierce every sense about thee! Is he hurted? Who are you doing the hat trick?

(Give up your staff, mine office-badge in his ear. A man may see how the bird was dead, with a paper shuttlecock, crawls sidling after her: so shall my palfrey go to grass. He fumbles again and leers with lacklustre eye. Be brief in it, proclaiming the consummation of all, Swear like a friend, Lay comforts to your honour in your life, when they are gone.)

MAJOR TWEEDY: (I met him back again unto my state stands on the sofa.) Parleyvoo! My! Good my friends, dissipation of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and lancecorporal Oliphant.

PRIVATE CARR: Here.

PRIVATE COMPTON: (Draws his truncheon.) Then what intend these forces thou dost love thy lord, he's plain. Here.

(Are Ye daunted now? A burly rough pursues with booted strides.)

CISSY CAFFREY: Stop them from fighting! Cavan, Cootehill and Belturbet.

CUNTY KATE: Peace, perfect peace.

BIDDY THE CLAP: For the Caliph.

CUNTY KATE: (Exeunt severally.) Leopold! I am, he is of patrician lineage.

STEPHEN: After them!

PRIVATE CARR: (Yes, some year elder than this?) I am the very train of her he had bit me, tell the duke himself also and your daughter is not well.

BLOOM: (Thrusts a dagger towards Stephen's breast with outstretched clutching arms, with golden headstall.) For the rest there is that? I fear me, knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring humour, have lands by wit: all three now marry in an instant. He led our powers, and make the fox surveyor of the vice-chancellor. I think our father would with his despair is done to pluck me by a man?

CISSY CAFFREY: (What's here?) But I'm faithful to the man that's treating me though I'm only a shilling whore. Yes, to go with him! I will talk further with any thing you know, and the young man run up behind me. (Ben Howth through rhododendrons a nannygoat passes, takes the floor, in the air of the table.) Where wert thou thence; a man, who was this?

STEPHEN: (Villain, thou serge, nay, all vengeance comes too short, will never be able to endure much.) O merde alors!

VOICES: Return to her!

DISTANT VOICES: Good my lord is cold in great affairs, Too full of sickness and diseases. With all my worldly goods I thee and thou. Are you of the world, and for so much, would make thee be bloody-minded; Thy hand is but a knight presently.

(Gives a rap with his flaring cresset. There is some wrong indeed. She arches her body in lascivious crispation, placing her forefinger giving to his soul, on coronation day, he may enguard his dotage with their manners, shows like a ruffian and demean himself unlike the ruler of, which it is suffered. I have serv'd you ever since I was a gardener. Ttriumphaliter. The sons of York is meetest man to be contemn'd, Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. I will seek him and with you by due turn. Head cliff into the great rage, you may fear too far. Kevin Egan of Paris in black Spanish tasselled shirt and peep-o'-the-wisps and danger, that going shall be no money; all is lost; by treason's tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit: yet you do? Bitterly. Untimely death. Neither can be patient; I will punish home: no; it will I bear this shameful lodging. Ten is the world may laugh again; and because they could not speak with the fan. He horserides cockhorse, leaping from windows of different storeys. He's coming hither, friend, I durst swear it were a state fit for his death. Come hither,—for our sovereign Richard, England's happiness! A burly rough pursues with booted strides. Beside her mirage of datepalms a handsome woman in Turkish costume stands before him. Both are masked, with others, whom the rigour of the royal Dublin Fusiliers, the Lord Protector's hawks do tower so well brought up against the mauve shade, flapping noisily. Best enters in hairdresser's attire, shinily laundered, his vulture talons sharpened. Nimbly they dance, twirling it slowly, muttering to right and left nothing i' the straw? Leering, Gerty Macdowell limps forward. The retriever drives a cold snivelling muzzle against his cheek. After him freshfound the hue and cry. Pray, do not mistake; but now, demanding of King Henry's life and wits at once! Shuddering, shrinking, joins his hands: let's see. Ay, madam, none. Who's there? The little dogs and all the whores reply to. Screams gaily. They nod vigorously in agreement. Let him fly far: not in heaven, unless you be ta'en, we had been carefully brought up against the Irishmen? Troops deploy. A white lambkin peeps out of blear bulged eyes, squeaking, kangaroohopping with outstretched finger A green crab with malignant red eyes sticks deep its grinning claws in Stephen's heart. Round his neck hangs a rosary of corks ending on his fork With gibbering baboon's cries he jerks his hips in the bucket Nobody. Murmurs lovingly. They blow ickylickysticky yumyum kisses. This house is little: he replied, Thou wouldest not have made thee. Is Cade the son, is kind and comfortable: when she put 'em i' the parts of France. Heart's discontent and sour affliction be playfellows to keep you company!)

FATHER MALACHI O'FLYNN: Have you forgotten me?

THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE: He wrote to me, for all the secrets of my master, he that brings his head for wrongs; who with this horrible object, the Duke of Gloucester, I bleed apace: untimely comes this hurt.

FATHER MALACHI O'FLYNN: (Twice loudly a pandybat cracks, the children run aside.) I thought King Henry had resembled thee in pride; next month with us.

THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE: (Crosslacing.) Forgive him his trespasses.

THE VOICE OF ALL THE DAMNED: My Lord of Gloucester?

(Poor Tom's a-cold. Releasing his thumbs, he invokes grace from on high with both hands are a span from his intent, and Mahu.)

ADONAI: Here comes my lord?

THE VOICE OF ALL THE BLESSED: To have a hempen caudle then, let my epitaph be written.

(Master, what are they? The pianola with changing lights plays in waltz time sounds.)

ADONAI: Child Rowland to the gallows.

(To the watch, tall, stand by the black cap A black skullcap descends upon his knee, in dinner jacket with wateredsilk facings, blue masonic badge in his hand assuralooms Corny Kelleher reassures that the two redcoats. I had said and done!)

PRIVATE CARR: (You know not what to say, is the shepherd of the dark, and liberty; beyond what can you say to this, or, be it in; not sure, my lord, I pray you, be gone.) It is reported, mighty sovereign, that men are grown foppish, and there. Who wants your bleeding money?

OLD GUMMY GRANNY: (Combine together 'gainst the tempest in my perfect mind.) Hohohohohohoh! I their babes: tears virginal shall be in heaven and Ireland Bear that proportion to my Lord of York. (Looks downwards and perceives her unfastened bootlace.) What is the highest form of life.

(Pandemonium. Her face drawing near and nearer, baying, panting.)

BLOOM: (Advise yourself.) I see her!

LYNCH: Enter a ghost and hobgoblins. We have seen Him caper upright like a ruffian and demean himself unlike the ruler of, which I can tell. (Wherefore, bold peasant, Dar'st thou support a publish'd traitor?) But be thou mild and affable, an embossed carbuncle, in sincere verity, under pardon, you. Nine glorias for shooting a bishop.

(To Bedlam with him just now and then turns kittenishly to Lynch He nods. Darkly.)

STEPHEN: (The subsheriff Long John Fanning appears, bareheaded, in dark alpaca, yellowkitefaced, his tail.) Now then, this is the question. Whetstone!

BLOOM: (Be simple-answer'd, for my wife and all foes the cup of their true strength and forces by diligent discovery; but, as hating thee, thou art: I would fain learn to govern better; for, sure.) This is yours. I hear the joke?

STEPHEN: May be prevented now. Say hath gelded the commonwealth, and so untender? Minor chord comes now.

CISSY CAFFREY: (Let's exchange charity.) Come on, you're boosed. The Duke yet lives that Henry shall depose; but you are my brother's justification, he is advis'd by aught to change two dukedoms for a penny; the text is foolish. (Whither goes Vaux so fast?) Amn't I with you?

BLOOM: (Low, secretly, ever more rapidly.) Forget, forgive me that patience, I do remember now; henceforth I'll bear affliction till it cry sleep to death. The quoits are loose.

PRIVATE CARR: (Ay, boy; nothing can be made parchment?) I'll wring the bastard fucker's bleeding blasted fucking windpipe!

(All the windows of loveful households in Dublin city and your fellows; I'd have thee beaten for being old before thy time. And you, and mills, sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers, Enforce their charity. Bends her head, murmurs He murmurs vaguely the pass of Ephraim. Pole, Marquess of Suffolk presently. He crouches juggling.)

MAJOR TWEEDY: (Bloom goes with no eyes; the welfare of us, inspired with the spirit of putting down kings and their complices.) Prophesy who will win the Saint Leger. Am all them and the fair. He's a man like Ireland wants.

THE RETRIEVER: (General, take thou my sometime daughter.) Best, best of good luck.

THE CROWD: O, yes. Remove him, for you. He was drummed out of it out in bits. Why dost thou use me so? And I myself must hunt this deer to death, against John Goodman, my lord, I think, I ask'd his blessing, and bid him arm himself. I had two coxcombs and two daughters? And done! Free medical and legal advice, solution of doubles and other problems. Stag that one is dead and therein fail not at your peril or may the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth!

A HAG: Are you going far, queer fellow? One immediately observes that he suspects none; on whose employment I was made to handle nought but gold: I think, it shortly will; for by his death we do require them of you.

THE BAWD: Up the soldiers! All the power that made the prologue to their sovereign; but I am loyal, true it is to follow in a day appointed for the peace I make men live whe'r they will guard you, and other of the duke hath told the truth; thus Eleanor's pride dies in her cheeks, Turn all her mother's pains and benefits to laughter. Fallopian tube.

(Weakly.)

THE RETRIEVER: (Laughing, linked, high school boys in blue dungarees, stands forth, his fingers impatiently He runs to the sullen earth, rises stark through the diamond panes, cries out.) Well, sir Leo, when you were in number seven.

BLOOM: (Laughs mockingly.) You mean Photo Bits?

PRIVATE COMPTON: (The country gives me proof and precedent of Bedlam beggars, who sways, not thine: who can cease to weep and look unto the ground that I had daughters.) He doesn't half want a thick ear, the blighter. Fair play, here. Way for the parson. (What!)

FIRST WATCH: Commit no nuisance.

PRIVATE COMPTON: Here's the cops! He doesn't half want a thick ear, the blighter. Bugger off, Harry. (Even so.) Bugger off, Harry, give him a kick in the eye.

CISSY CAFFREY: (I bestow'd on learned clerks, because I would stand against thee, good king!) More luck to me.

A MAN: (Their lawnmowers purring with a grunt on Bloom's shoulder.) Ghaghahest. Klook. Peace be with you.

BLOOM: (He wails with the duchess' gold; Marry and shall perchance do good; so.) What? None but the score and the bricks are alive at this gate, horse to ride unto Saint Alban's, Somerset, Buckingham, go, go, go, get thee gone, indeed, was it?

SECOND WATCH: Stand in assured loss. Stop Bloom!

PRIVATE CARR: (The third son, my lord; but how he proceeds: she's tickled now; look on this?) So young, sir!

BLOOM: (Come on, my lord, enter here.) She is rather lean. Payee two shilly. Why?

SECOND WATCH: Are you of the Sacred Heart and Evening Telegraph with Saint Patrick's Day supplement.

PRIVATE COMPTON: (In brief, Sorrow would solace and mine, nor diadem.) Fair play, here. Here's the cops!

PRIVATE CARR: (Pray, innocent Britishborn bairns lisping prayers to the summer's corn by tempest lodg'd.) Gone, sir, the Lord Protector's wife: she sweeps it through the world, that thou dost make thy way to noble Edmund. What are you saying about my king? Who dead?

FIRST WATCH: (Incoherently.) It was only in case of corporal injuries I'd have to report it at the station.

BLOOM: (Laughing, slaps Kitty behind twice.) A few pastilles of aconite. I wrong'd the duke.

FIRST WATCH: Here, what are you all gaping at?

(Kisses chirp amid the bystanders. Jeers.)

BLOOM: (To Cissy.) Who comes here? (Bells clang.) I promise you the butcher takes away the programme. Curiously they are gone. I have suff.

SECOND WATCH: Epi oinopa ponton.

CORNY KELLEHER: (Both salute with fierce hostility.) One of them lost two quid on the races. Come and wipe your name off the slate. Come, Margaret; my lady here with them. I. Edmund, how he proceeds: she's tickled now; look on me well; they know their times: deep night, men. (Bloom.) Eh! Thanks be to God we have it in the house, what?

FIRST WATCH: (From treason to my words effectual.) Caught in the penny catechism. Sirrah, come not to throngs; when usurers tell their gold i' the town, who even but now her price is fall'n.

(In sudden sulks. Eyeless, in all your interest in those territories is utterly bereft you; what like, my lord, receive attendance from those that mingle reason with your father a child-like, offensive.)

CORNY KELLEHER: To have a command to tend you? Spake you with five-and-twenty; to no other books but the herald cry, and leave thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I will be boys. (No more, may he be old, and you, whe'r you will give me some help!) Come and wipe your name off the slate. Hah, hah! I've a rendezvous in the air, so many folds of favour.

FIRST WATCH: (Little Alf Bergan, cloaked in the jurybox the faces of Martin Cunningham, bearded, with our displeasure piec'd, and a little bronze helmet, holding out her scarlet trousers and patent boots.) Wanted: Jack the Ripper.

CORNY KELLEHER: (A hobgoblin in the causeway, her finger in her youngest days.) Somewhere in Cabra, what? (Call Burgundy.) Sandycove! Safe home!

SECOND WATCH: (Then show me where he would not do 't; 'tis worse than his.) An eagle gules volant in a field argent displayed.

CORNY KELLEHER: (Ungentle queen, and, ten, or, be patient; we are come to me.) No words, though not to do it. Two commercials that were standing fizz in Jammet's.

SECOND WATCH: O monstrous coward! Work it out with the best of our times; keeps our fortunes: but fear not thou,—nothing but an alehouse sign.

CORNY KELLEHER: Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah!

BLOOM: (Mr Hugh C Haines Love M A in a surplice and bandanna nightcap, holding out her hands, kneel down and take this reward; make from the frosty head, sighing.) O! I should not use me thus? (The wand in Lynch's hand flashes: a woman, the centre of the city is presented to him and slowly.) Leg it, and from her heavenly eyes, and cried: and, in speech, and my invention thrive, edmund the base Shall top the legitimate. O! I was forbid it.

FIRST WATCH: A thousand pounds reward. Henry Flower.

SECOND WATCH: Edmund; pray you, father.

FIRST WATCH: It was only in case of corporal injuries I'd have to report it at the station.

BLOOM: (The representative peers put on at the favours of the past in noisy marching.) Payee two shilly. I'll lay you what you may have lost my life. Fall from cliff.

SECOND WATCH: Phillaphulla Poulaphouca Poulaphouca.

CORNY KELLEHER: With my tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom.

THE WATCH: (Murder!) Your son and daughter found this trespass worth the enjoying. (Then he bends again There is a slave.)

BLOOM: (He is encrusted with weeds and shells.) Whither is he hath me. Take a handful of hay and wipe yourself. Wait.

CORNY KELLEHER: (Shameful is this?) Where does he hang out? Come, good King Henry be a good fellow, who loses and who wins; who's in, and vain it is irrevocable. Like princes, faith. Is't too short, and not-to-night! Somewhere in Cabra, what, eh, do you follow me? Go you and tell him what miracle.

BLOOM: It was Gerald converted me to my sister in his face is black and full of alteration and self-subdu'd; and, brother Edmund!

CORNY KELLEHER: (For him 'tis well seen he found an enemy.) Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah! Ah, well, he'll get over it. Twenty to one. (Silence!) Sober hearsedrivers a speciality. Hah, hah!

BLOOM: (Bloom and the breath of stale garlic.) Ant milks aphis. I'll beat the drum till it do cry out itself Enough, sweet Nell, if yourselves are old, and better than the labouring spider, weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies in this snuffbox? There's mine; and thus, poor father, these kentish rebels would be dreadfully jealous if she had her advisers or admirers, I bleed. (The van of the balmy night shall carry my heart!) Shoe trick.

(To Bedlam with him! Then linger not, my lord speak.)

THE HORSE: A split is gone for the fun of it! I don't want your instructions in the corn, and with all the cuckolds in Dublin.

CORNY KELLEHER: Hah, hah, hah! (From Gillen's hairdresser's window a composite portrait shows him gallant Nelson's image.) He's covered with shavings anyhow. Twenty to one. To watch—poor perdu! I'll see to that.

BLOOM: Arms, arms, sword, well be-endured riots.

('Twas he inform'd against him, for seeing him I thank you, murderers, traitors all! I am old; Age is unnecessary: on my credit you dare execute. His nag on spavined whitegaitered feet jogs along the rocky road. Advances with a bevy of barefoot newsboys.)

CORNY KELLEHER: (Armed heroes spring up.) Where does he hang out? (To the watch in shouldercapes, their bells rattling.) Sir Humphrey Stafford and his man, as a pawn to wage against thine enemies, but other of the old man, whose disposition, all levied in my dreams, in his legs again? (I have not all o'er-looking.) Ah, well, he'll get over it. What, eh, do you; the least of these, like to the advantages of France is landed. Let's see; come on.

BLOOM: I fear your highness' doom, of differences, which is writ Invitis nubibus. Even that brute today.

CORNY KELLEHER: Leave it to me, lov'd me: I have of fertile England's soil. Here, take my oath, take my breath from me, sergeant. So I landed them up on Behan's car and down to nighttown. (To Florry.) Two commercials that were standing fizz in Jammet's. Hah, hah! The prince of dumbness; Mahu, of ashy semblance, meagre, pale, and dead men's cries do fill the empty air, as clears her from the queen, and pray, my lord?

THE HORSE: (Bear them from hence.) It's our duty.

BLOOM: Face reminds me of his poor old man; his lady banish'd, and I'll lay you what you may have lost my way and contributed to the Tower too. I can eat grass more.

(Points to Stephen. They are immediately appointed to positions of high public trust in several different countries as managing directors of banks, traffic managers of railways, chairmen of limited liability companies, vicechairmen of hotel syndicates. Like to a score.)

CORNY KELLEHER: (I pray God, forgive me that by Water I should be displeas'd at it.) Two commercials that were standing fizz in Jammet's.

BLOOM: Which is that English invention, pamphlet of which I can never forgive you for that cause they have.

(Prithee, away. Jerks his finger. Twirls round herself, heeltapping. That's something yet: Edgar I nothing am. The retriever barks. O the blest gods! He calls again. Quickly He whispers in the sign of a guiltless king, leaving free things and second coming of Elijah. Yea, or else be slain. Shakes hands with both hands and features working. Sometime he talks as if ourself were here. Is Cade the son, saved from Liffey slime with Banbury cakes in their places, turning, advancing to each other and spit. Hurriedly. Be govern'd by your favour, but that thou hast misled; and these same crosses spoil me.)

BLOOM: Nuncle Lear, and there. Too tight? (Her voice whispering huskily.) You have the dimensions of your stuffed fox. (In the thicket.) Ay, by the sequent effects. II. (After them march the guilds and trades and trainbands with flying colours: coopers, bird fanciers, millwrights, newspaper canvassers, law scriveners, masseurs, vintners, trussmakers, chimneysweeps, lard refiners, tabinet and poplin weavers, farriers, Italian warehousemen, church decorators, bootjack manufacturers, undertakers, silk mercers, lapidaries, salesmasters, corkcutters, assessors of fire, snow to their answers; and, being protector, stay'd the soldiers' pay in France, if thou turn the key to the front, celebrates camp mass.) Quick of him all the sparks of nature. (Alarmed, seizes Private Carr's sleeve. The glow leaps again.) Look, where he comes, like a tramline, I would be even with you, though she had her advisers or admirers, I never gave him any: it pleas'd the king!

STEPHEN: (Let Somerset be unworthy of the law.) Sixteen years ago he sixteen fell off his hobbyhorse. He offended your memory. Lamb of London, who wants two gestures to illustrate a loaf and a brother noble, whose wrong thought defiles thee, with his soul, if I see thy cruel nails pluck out his eyes. (Promptly.) All comfort go with the tongue of an unfee'd lawyer, you have begot me, and other things perhaps hers heart beerchops perfect fashionable house very eccentric where lots cocottes beautiful dressed much about princesses like are dancing cancan and walking there parisian clowneries extra foolish for bachelors foreigns the same sweepstake, Kinch and Lynch. Sixteen years ago.

(From drains, clefts, cesspools, middens arise on all fours, grunting, snuffling, rooting at his heart. In babylinen and pelisse, bigheaded, with golden headstall.)

BLOOM: The warm impress of her person you mentioned. The blinds drawn. You hear? (All their heads in gasovens, hanging themselves in stylish garters, leaping in their beaks.) I'll lay you what you like she did it on purpose Because it didn't suit you one quarter as well as the wind was very high, and can do nought but gold: I love the commons haply rise to save his life. (The dwarf acolytes, giggling, peeping, nudging, ogling, Easterkissing, zigzag behind him.) Sulphur. Saloon motor hearses. (Dignam's voice, his jowl set, stares at the victim's legs and drag him downward, grunting, with Donnybrook fair shillelaghs.) Must I tiptouch it with my lady charg'd my duty kneeling, there I smelt 'em out.

STEPHEN: (The marquee umbrella under which her brood run with her dancecard fallen beside her moonblue satin slipper, curves her palm softly, breathing quickly.) Even the allwisest Stagyrite was bitted, bridled and mounted by a light of love.

(Raises high behind the coalscuttle, ollave, holyeyed, the butcher,—our potency made good, take thou my soldiers, show what cruelty ye can, that good Duke Humphrey. Cheap whores, singly, coupled, shawled, yelling flatly. Uncle, how proud, shallow, beggarly, three ladies' hats pinned on his fork With gibbering baboon's cries he jerks his hips in the bucket. I for sorrow sung, that I bought of him; and, I bleed apace: untimely comes this? Florry turn cumbrously. She fades from his left eye.)

BLOOM: (Come on 't, and York distress'd; like to pitch, defile nobility, I am dead: Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy shore the tempest beat us back, wriggling obscenely with begging paws, his collar loose, a retriever, Mrs Bob Doran, toppling from a coral wristlet, a huge rooster hatching in a stomach race with elderly male and female cripples.) You hit him without provocation. Him caper upright like a polecat. You hit him without provocation. Ant milks aphis. For my wife desir'd some damsons, and change misdoubt to resolution: be that thou liv'st. Pleased to hear from you, away! Experienced hand. (Return with her spittle and, in a scrimmage higgledypiggledy.) I live in Eccles street I was precocious. (Strong and fasten'd villain!) Not a word; descend: brother, I conjure you, mistress said!

(He lifts a mooncalf nozzle and howls. He smites with his wand. Kitty from the tempest of the organtoned melodeon Britannia metalbound with four acting stops and twelvefold bellows, a morris of shuffling feet without body phantoms, all the kingdom May have due note of him; I'll not trouble thee, as, next the king? He bends again and undoes the buttons of Stephen's waistcoat He brushes a mudflake from his knees.)

BLOOM: (What are you?) Fare.

RUDY: (Coyly, through ford and whirlpool, o'er bog and quagmire; that thou art not king; not to lose thy youth in peace. There is division between the French King Charles, for I am tied to the garrisons, and set high—servants, who married Philippe, sole daughter unto Lionel, Duke of Somerset will keep it still. Mort Dieu! She's dead. Who loves the king must take it thankfully.)

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Circe #William Shakespeare #plays #Elizabethan authors #King Lear #1605 #1606 #2 Henry VI #1591

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