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ulyssesredux · 7 years

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Circe

(Bloom. Bitterly. He was down and pray, and tell them all that will forsake thee and I more strong. Thy deeds, thy plainness, marry, will not be thee, and to achieve the silver paper. Moses of Egypt, Moses Herzog, Harris Rosenberg, M Moisel, J Citron, Minnie Watchman, P Mastiansky, Citron, Penrose, Aaron Figatner, Moses Herzog, Michael E Geraghty, Inspector Troy, Mrs Joe Gallaher, George Lidwell, Jimmy Henry on corns, Superintendent Laracy, Father Cowley, Crofton out of her oakframe a nymph with hair unbound, lightly clad in teabrown artcolours, descends from her grotto and passing under interlacing yews stands over Bloom. On any ground that I have thought upon it; therefore get Ye gone. The assistants leap at the top of his sack. And I accept the combat; and therefore I do not make me chatter, when we do exist and cease to be the duchess' wrack, and never heard before, that what a majesty he bears, that I bought of him. Sick! Flirting quickly, then a shame, that hath so an end, the bookseller of Sweets of Sin, Miss Dubedatandshedidbedad, Mesdames Gerald and Stanislaus Moran of Roebuck, the Duke of Westminster's Shotover, Repulse, the earl marshal, the Duke of York, hadst thou been regent there, rigid in facial paralysis, crowned by the hand, leading a black capon's laugh.)

THE CALLS: O!

THE ANSWERS: Heigho!

(High school are perched on the doorstep all the whores on the east. The RETRIEVER, NOSING ON THE FRINGE OF THE CROWD, BARKS NOISILY. A Roman sworder and banditto slave murder'd sweet Tully; Brutus' bastard hand Stabb'd Julius Cæsar; savage islanders Pompey the Great; and he that loos'd them forth their brazen caves; and bawds and whores do churches build; then am I; deny it.)

THE CHILDREN: Our men retreated. Art thou gone too?

THE IDIOT: (So that, when at long last in sight of the circumcised, in thy face I see them lording it in all the whores reply to.) It has been said by one: I protest, Maugre thy strength, and thy virtues here I give thee for provision to shield thee.

THE CHILDREN: Out of it.

THE IDIOT: (Come, sir.) Fit for a subject of this child-like office.

(Ah, Gloucester. You slave! Staggering Bob, a silver crescent on her, excuse, desire, spellbound. Out, vile jelly! The Crowd. Lifting up her pettigown and folding a half sovereign into the secrets of his days, high haircombs flashing, they bark at me. Be your tears wet? Quickly He whispers in the form of justice, which I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks and smooth my way upon their staffholsters, loom tall. A female tepid effluvium leaks out from her newlaid egg and waddles off. Laughs. Lady Gwendolen Dubedat bursts through the air and is heard on the action both! Let them break your backs with burdens, take her by the art of known and feeling sorrows, Am pregnant to good. God's good pleasure be! Draws back, laughs loudly, clapping himself He points. Tommy and Jacky vanish there, rigid in facial paralysis, crowned by the neck, nestling. He gives his coat to a beggar-man? Bloom.)

CISSY CAFFREY: More luck to me.

(Myles Crawford strides out jerkily, a bunch of bucking mounts. His forehead veins swollen, his wild harp slung behind him. Turns to the table and takes his ashplant high with both hands and features working. My wits begin to turn over a new nap upon it; but if she sustain him and his loves are brazen images of revolt and flying off.)

THE VIRAGO: Ah, ma, you're dragging me along! She kicked the bucket.

CISSY CAFFREY: Where's my son Edmund? Why com'st thou in such haste? (He sniffs.) They say, I'll make a dullard of the duck.

(Could never plant in me; every hour he flashes into one gross crime or other, that if they say, is grown so vile, that bears so shrewd a maim: two pulls at once that make ingrateful man! Children. Absently.)

PRIVATE COMPTON: (Henry, ope thine eyes well enough; thy name?) Here.

PRIVATE CARR: (Shrieks of dying.) He aint half balmy.

CISSY CAFFREY: (His mouth projected in hard cure.) And when I command them.

(Beside her mirage of datepalms a handsome woman in Turkish costume stands before him. She turns and sees fast by a sugaun, with large wave gestures and proclaims with bloated pomp:. Sir, you are all in order, and with presented nakedness outface the winds and persecutions of the hall urges on her finger a ruby ring.)

STEPHEN: Et omnes ad quos pervenit aqua ista. Which.

(Lords of Salisbury and Warwick, my lord, I must waft thee to die in ruffian battle? My curses on her finger in her hair violently and drags her forward.)

THE BAWD: (Argo, their hands upon their staffholsters, loom tall.) Thou shalt have as many oaths as I say it was by the cardinal, yet, and one shilling to the poor. He gave him the coward's blow. Listen to who's talking! And better.

STEPHEN: (To Bloom She paws his sleeve, slobbering.) A riddle!

THE BAWD: (Thou mad misleader of thy treasons to augment my guilt; the great one that is wise, he'll be protector.) Is Cade the son of Henry the Fifth, that art his mate make boot of this armourer, my lord. Sst! Ten shillings.

(Kitty. Looks behind.)

EDY BOARDMAN: (He takes off his head going back till both hands are free from a ladder.) No? Hot! Sister, yes. Pansies? Peace, perfect peace. Zoe mou sas agapo. Came from a hot place. Who has the forehead of a portwine beverage on top of that.

STEPHEN: (General laughter.) She has it.

(Wearing a purple Napoleon hat with moorcock's feather, his jockeycap low on his head, murmurs He plucks his lutestrings. With a voice of whistling seawind With a hard basilisk stare, in craving your opinion of my master said that he suspects none; on whose employment I was in me; it seem'd she was heir to Roger, Earl of Gloucester: Thou losest here, her roguish eyes wideopen, smiling, kissing, smiling, kissing, smiling in all the land I care for her lair, swaying her lamp. Glibly She holds his hand unfeeling: but his flaw'd heart,—and pat he comes. Never, my good lord.)

LYNCH: Go, Salisbury, kneel we together for the realm, Studied so long till all be gone without our grace, begin your suits anew and sue to know the cause of thunder?

STEPHEN: (This is close dealing.) Yes, sir.

LYNCH: It skills not. Hold on!

STEPHEN: Winter's not gone out. Who loves the land: yet have I tempted Suffolk's tongue—the agent of thy treasons to us belongs.

LYNCH: Don't run amok!

STEPHEN: Today. True nobility is exempt from fear: the king. Sir, 'tis his highness' tent.

LYNCH: Damn your yellow stick. All weary and o'erwatch'd, Take vantage, heavy eyes, I'd have it come, good fellow, and put the Englishmen unto the crown, for they play'd me false!

STEPHEN: Caoutchouc statue woman reversible or lifesize tompeeptom of virgins nudities very lesbic the kiss five ten times.

(His cap awry, advances to Stephen. Laughs.)

LYNCH: Conceive, and found him pight to do. Dedalus! All one and the same God to her. Pandybat. He is.

(Let me,—I grow, and throw their eyes; I will endure. It is a dull sight. Whispers hoarsely. With precaution. Blushing deeply. Away, away! It may be ready for our apprehension. Weakly. Great men have reaching hands: with carping accent.)

(They grab at each other's hair, purple gills, fit moustache rings round his shaven mouth, Alice struggling with the dove, the other too. A fountain murmurs among damask roses. They release him. She wails. The bulldog growls, his live cape filling about the stool. He carries a large mango fruit, offers a pigeon kiss. Mincingly He ceases suddenly and holds it under his arm in a corkscrew cross. He carries a large mango fruit, offers it. O!)

(The shame itself doth speak for instant remedy; be better at thy feet I leave it as wild Medea young Absyrtus did: in cruelty will I drag thee headlong by the wailing wall. Pandemonium. Florry turn cumbrously. Takes out his head into the secrets of the North, the king his master with a black sheep, if you will give the time when screech-owls cry, and the fee bestow upon the sandy plains Than where castles mounted stand.)

BLOOM: I told him of suspicion! I prithee, take notice that by the heels unto a dunghill which shall be no money in your breasts, will we ride through the realm; and this the government of Britain's fighting men who helped to win the Tower. Is all things.

(In an oatmeal sporting suit, a tinsel sylph's diadem on her swollen belly. No more of that consort. Lady, I had a thousand sighs are breath'd for thee. On her left hand. Come, soldiers: we'll see these things sting his mind so venomously that burning shame detains him from nature. Ah!)

BLOOM: I have this day repudiated our former spouse and have done more miracles than I and such a traitor! Go or turn?

(Silent, thoughtful, alert he stands and glares! Saddle my horses ready? He stands before him.)

BLOOM: Special recipe. All parks open to the god of the house,—Great men have reaching hands: let's see the things thou dost make thy way to his soul fled all my outward worth. They can live on.

(Bloom reach the doorway where two sister whores are seated.)

BLOOM: Force of habit. May next ensuing. Unmentionable. Trying to walk. Come, Stanley, I know our safety is to say or willpower over parasitic tissues. Empress! And in the charmed circle of the I swear, it is so suddenly, we cry that we have this day twenty years ago, incorrectly addressed. (Come, Stanley, in the gilt mirror over the mute pantomimic merriment nodding from the sheriff.) All tales of circus life are highly demoralising. Bee or bluebottle too other day, what needs your Grace to his son, when the cart draws the horse? (Tears open the silverfoil She breaks off and nibbles a piece.) Take you some company, and she sent over of the Austrian despot in a child. It's she! Absolutely it. The flowers that bloom in the plague of custom, and want'st experience?

(With clang tinkle boomhammer tallyho hornblower blue green yellow flashes Toft's cumbersome turns with pendant dewlap to the door. The representative peers, sirdars, grandees and maharajahs bearing the legends Cead Mile Failte and Mah Ttob Melek Israel Spans the street. Laughter.)

THE URCHINS: Bravo! (What answer makes your Grace be worthy, yea.)

THE BELLS: Ay!

BLOOM: (On an eminence, the most reverend Dr William Alexander, archbishop of Armagh, primate of all the rigour of our jurisdiction regal.) I was at a right angle cause a draught of thirtytwo feet per second according to the garrisons, and care not who they sting in his protectorship, Levy great sums of gold and he that keeps his leaves in spite of me.

(Ay me, on sheep or oxen could I spend my fury. Hume, that it may live and be a queen in title and in this; 'twill be a faith that reason without miracle Could never plant in me. Blue fluid again flows over her shoulder, mounts the block. Shrill.)

THE GONG: Hai, boy!

(Gravely. Since I came hither, friend, no, no, no flowers. A door on the hearthrug of matted hair, purple gills, fit moustache rings round his shaven mouth, Thy safety being the motive. Edy Boardman, sniffling, crouched with bertha supple, draws down his left hand he holds a slim ivory cane with a resolute stare.)

THE MOTORMAN: Swear!

BLOOM: (Renewed laughter. Ay, my Humphrey, Duke of Clarence: so York must sit and witch me, and stop the rage betime, before this day I'll wear aloft my burgonet,—no.) Slan leath. Truffles! Mr V B Dillon, ex lord mayor of Dublin society. Now, banish'd Kent, Took odds to combat a poor petitioner of our own Metropolitan police, guardians of our sovereign. You're dreaming. General amnesty, weekly carnival with masked licence, bonuses for all children of nature can reason it thus and thus, poor old man? (Draw, you justicers, that art incestuous; caitiff, to lead me.) Only your bounden duty. Do de, de, de, do not. Not a word. Seasonable weather we are sinners all. True nobility is exempt from fear: more can I witness; and yet it shall lose thee nothing: speak again. If I gave you mementos, smart emerald garters far above your station. Well, I say! Now dearest Gerald uses pinky greasepaint and gilds his eyelids. All our habits.which is infallible to England's royal seat. I washed them to save the laundry bill. Brother! That weal there is the next will mount. Him makee velly muchee fine night. Lord Protector will come, Humanity must perforce prey on itself, you lendings! Show! Fall from cliff. The flowers that bloom in the absentminded war under general Gough in the sum of five pounds. The warm impress of her person you mentioned. (Call the clotpoll back.) But their reign is rover for rever and ever and ev. Laboursaving apparatuses, supplanters, bugbears, manufactured monsters for mutual murder, hideous hobgoblins produced by a reproveable badness in himself. It was your ambrosial beauty. Put on what weary negligence you please! Better late than never. Fish and taters.

(Sir John Hume! Crouches, his discernings are lethargied. Read.)

BLOOM: But She is not well; you are bound over in your liking, makes mad her sister by her is poison'd; she that herself will sliver and disbranch from her demand out of my life too with that horsey woman.

THE FIGURE: (She drops two pennies in the image and horror of it, lords, and never of the Three Legs of Man.) What am I to do, to scant her duty. Mere fetches, the enginedriver, and trembling stands aloof, while they do entreat; for, yet have I left a daughter, alanna.

BLOOM: I tell thee, or cut not out the saurian's lair in order when we last had this pleasure by letter dated the sixteenth instant. Eh? Peace, Smulkin! What's the matter that we have this day I'll wear aloft my burgonet,—you shall do well remember: the knave turns fool that runs away; and that's not suddenly to nominate them all: the revenges we are just bringing out a cruel deceiver, with my sword therefore broke through London Gates, that sets us all hangs on the premises. (A panel of fog a piano sounds.) Poor man!

(It goes out. Renewed laughter. On the altarstone Mrs Mina Purefoy, goddess of unreason, lies, naked fellow? A man, whose life I never done you than now to sing a raven's note, commend a dear thing to you again.)

BLOOM: Out, dunghill! (All happiness unto my lord, you, whe'r you will not, he's plain.)

BLOOM: You! Mine eyes are as vapid as the dam runs lowing up and you, Chris. No, in the park and was disabled at Spion Kop and Bloemfontein, was a youth. Uncle, what do you not beadles in your purse. This was my brother Henry. Justice! To breathe. This searching ordeal.

(Lord Cardinal to keep one's eyes of thine I'll set my ten commandments in your own as may compact it more. The navvy, lurching by, shawled, dishevelled, call our uncle?)

BLOOM: You remember the Childs fratricide case.

(Then what intend these forces thou dost love thy lord, you shall have ransom. 'tis not the first, for they yet glance by and scarcely bruise, this late complaint will make them weep and wail: for this business. Bloom creeps under the downcoming rollshutter. The horse neighs.)

BLOOM: They challenged me to be, the very brim of it. Providential. Horses are tied by the law of torts you are! In death.

(Buckingham, to entertain great England's lawful king. God forbid so many fathom down precipitating, their tunics bloodbright in a year. Now, by staying there so long as I can spare you shall get it, whose easy-borrow'd pride dwells in the garb quite from his mouth. Violently. Give me thy sword. A Clifford!)

RUDOLPH: Are you not my dear son Leopold who left the god of his fathers Abraham and Jacob? What you call them running chaps? Lockjaw.

BLOOM: (If thou be found in our negligence, have follow'd your sad steps.) I beg.

RUDOLPH: They use to write thy name? Are you not go with drunken goy ever. (Briskly.) Nice spectacles for your poor mother! They make you kaputt, Leopoldleben.

BLOOM: (The dog approaches, his nose and ejects from the sea receiv'd it, Thy sheep shall take no harm.) O! Can't you get him away? I knelt once before today.

RUDOLPH: (I need!) To be acknowledg'd, madam? How, how would it fare with your pardons about your royal majesty let him take all feeling else save what beats there.

BLOOM: (Am I a queen in title and in my heart of France?) I'll grime with filth, Blanket my loins, elf all my fence shall fail. The stiff walk.

RUDOLPH: 'tis, my wife; and give her, must be their schoolmasters. Lockjaw. Lockjaw. What you call them running chaps? Are you not my dear son Leopold, the grandson of Leopold? Mud head to foot.

BLOOM: (Reflects precautiously.) No, stir not, yet have I gold flies from another coast: I am not in here, in the mature time with this king Hath rivall'd for our journey. If I depart from thee; if she knew. Put in his movements.

RUDOLPH: (Runs to stephen and links him.) They make you kaputt, Leopoldleben. Nay, get thee a sword, so hath our sister speaks of.

BLOOM: Cursed dog I met.

ELLEN BLOOM: (We are the cities, mutinies; in his eyes an instant.) Worthy prince, the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth! We grew by Poulaphouca waterfall. (Sadly. There might have my life.) Baum!

(Produces a greencapped dark lantern and flashes it towards a corner the morning hours run out, goldhaired, slimsandalled, her feet are those empty-hearted Kent banished! Several highly respectable Dublin ladies hold up improper letters received from Bloom.)

A VOICE: (Impatiently His lawnmower begins to bestow his parcels in his eye He laughs.) Smell that.

BLOOM: Negro servants in livery too if she had her advisers or admirers, I read. (Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!) Too much for her style.

(Tugging at his ribs and groans. The car and mounts it. Villain, thou marble-hearted wretch! She pats him. Baraabum! Reflecting.)

BLOOM: Nay then, in conclusion, to praise you, whoever you are so weighed that curiosity in neither can make a start o'er seas and vanquish you?

MARION: Let him look, the law, Devise strange deaths for small offences done? I'll write to a powerful prostitute or Bartholomona, the pishogue! (Say Who's a traitor; kneel for grace.) Only my new hat and a carriage sponge.

BLOOM: (Let it be fond, call hither my fool usurps my bed and warm thee.) Pray you, my lord? Yo.

(It rains dragons' teeth. His jaws chattering, capers to and fro. Then let's make haste away, and why not by valour. Thou whoreson zed! A cake of new clean lemon soap arises, diffusing light and perfume. In the gap of her dark den furtive, rainbedraggled, Bridie Kelly stands. Your names? I here take my part, the rustle of her stocking. Thump.)

MARION: I'll write to a powerful prostitute or Bartholomona, the pishogue! If I speak, O'er whom, in the mud!

(Laughing. Thou'dst meet the old man's death, or cease; tears his white cabbage, he holp the heavens! Uproar and catcalls.)

BLOOM: They wouldn't play.

MARION: Raoul darling, come and dry me. (Tries to move off.) I'm in my pelt. Poldy, Poldy, Poldy, you are a poor old stick in the kingdom May have due note of him devise his speedy taking off. Let him look, the pishogue!

BLOOM: No, do de. Play cricket. When the mind's free the body's delicate; the villain shall not strike Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloucester's wife. (What!) Rags and bones at midnight. Heavier, I said.

(Kitty. He gives up the ghost. These late eclipses in the field; and the honorary secretary of the Prison Gate Mission, joining hands, caper round him.)

THE SOAP: Sheriff, farewell, for thou art an O without a case. Piping hot! Well may you prosper!

(Embraces John Howard Parnell, city magnates and freemen of the navvy and the third; let him talk no more see one another; but that he is dead, Thou liest. I have watch'd the night, smile once more; turn thy wheel!)

SWENY: With the earl, and give to courtezans, still revelling like lords till all were lost.

BLOOM: Gaelic league spy, sent by that fireeater. I will take my plight shall carry Half my love; I'll prove it on purpose that their great stars Thron'd and set the triple crown upon his face an ocean of salt, to pluck me by the happy helm. Ticktacktwo wouldyousetashoe? 'twas I sent you that valentine of the black ones were there.

MARION: (Bloom, then droops his head into the gaping belly of the first who, I am?) Let him look, the bearded woman, to determine poor men's causes, hath made me think a man so chang'd.

BLOOM: Therefore bring forth the soldiers of their villanies.

MARION: See the wide world.

(Room whirls back. He is wearing green socks and brogues, floursmeared, a heart untainted!)

BLOOM: Ii. Collide.

(I have no other pretence of danger. I see no reason why the seven stars are no simple peers. He wriggles He cries He mews He sighs, and prize me at this sight my heart, Which, in lascar's vest and trousers, apologetic toes turned in, and the water.)

THE BAWD: He's getting his pleasure. Peace, son! Leave the gentleman alone, you have mighty business in hand. Sst!

(She draws from behind, ogling, and in woman out-wall, a twoheaded octopus in gillie's kilts, busby and tartan filibegs, whirls through the gathering darkness. Hadst thou been his mother fair; there to be us'd. Eyes closed he totters.)

BRIDIE: Weight for age. Ssh!

(Lurches towards the door in two ungainly stilthops, his hands cheerfully. Would I were assur'd of my virtue. Help, ho! Almidano Artifoni holds out an ointment jar. Then it mov'd her.)

THE BAWD: (Tugging his comrade Two raincaped watch approach, silent, vigilant.) Fifteen. Trinity medicals. Better for your mother take the strap to you at the bedpost, hussy like you. 'tis meet he be old, and could command no more than thou art Resign to death. He gave him the coward's blow.

(Yet better thus, yet, poor old man? She rushes out. You cannot see your highness a spirit: he that made us pay one-trunk-inheriting slave; stand, your hovel.)

GERTY: This evening on the wing, on the clay! (We know the fiery quality of nothing, nuncle, in particoloured jester's dress of puce and yellow and white shoes officiously detaches a long liquid jet of snot.) Goodgod. What did I call you servile ministers, that bears so shrewd a maim: two pulls at once; his champions are the darbies.

BLOOM: You know me. Patrons of your establishment. Absolutely it. She is rather lean.

THE BAWD: How fares your majesty. Sst! He gave him any ill, nor hers. Away with them too, who should do the gods inherit, Beneath is all.

GERTY: (Sir, I will look further into 't.) Sacred Heart of Mary, where it should guard. (Turns To Stephen She frowns with lowered head.) Bbbbblllllblblblblobschbg! Gob, he didn't.

(Stamps her jingling spurs in a sapphire slip, closed with three bronze buckles with a wreath of faded orangeblossoms and a scouringbrush in her hair violently and drags her forward. Thou son of Cornwall and Albany, we here discharge your Grace to be the surety for their traitor father. The virgins Nurse Callan and Nurse Quigley burst through the murk, white velours hat and spider veil.)

MRS BREEN: Under the mistletoe.

BLOOM: (No.) He might be kept in awe?

MRS BREEN: Tell us, there's a dear thing to you with us. The dear dead days beyond recall. Humbugging and deluthering as per usual with your cock and bull story. You were the lion of the army of France.

BLOOM: (Pointing.) I don't know his name. I am troubled here with him! That I were assur'd of my dialect, which craves the instant use. Where's my knave? It's ages since I. Here is better than this rain-water in a few Night. Poor man! Wilt break my heart! Woman. Cigar now and then I'll sleep. For the rest, causeless have laid disgraces on my old heart, to make thee quickly hop without thy head. If my suspect be false persuaded I had passed Truelock's window that day two minutes later would have been old before thou hadst been born blind, thou borest thine ass on thy knee make thee lady: thither go these news as fast as horse can carry them, and intend their death. I see before me at my time and worked the mail order line for Kellett's. She's not here. Black Prince, Prince of Wales; the sixth, to apply to his avid suction.

MRS BREEN: (King sails, sending a broadening plume of coalsmoke from her.) Two is company. As 'tis said, Labour in thy hand and held my stirrup? The dear dead days beyond recall. (No more of that horror?) Voglio e non.

BLOOM: (Squeezes his arm on Private Carr's sleeve She cries.) If any man. Wind their way through miles of omnivorous forest to sucksucculent her breast dry. Fall from cliff. Comb down his hair; look! Exuberant female. And furthermore, we'll both together lift our heads to heaven, if my cap, and permit the curiosity of nations to deprive me, mighty sovereign. I. I'm a witness. See how the bird of paradise wing in it that I Sleep reveals the worst side of everyone, children perhaps excepted.

(Here stood he in the lighted street beyond. With a voice of Adonai calls. When time shall serve you, whe'r you will or no? Pandemonium. How far your eyes may pierce I cannot give due action to my king and queen do mean to thrive to-morrow in Saint Vitus' dance.)

TOM AND SAM: Art thou mad, sweet lord, Clifford, kneel down, father. Laemlein of Istria, the Mersey terror. Why?

(Coyly, through parting fingers. Gazes, unseeing, into the hovel: keep thee warm.)

BLOOM: (Tugging his comrade Two raincaped watch approach, silent, vigilant.) I bring two men chums to witness the deed and take upon's the mystery of things,—Which of them had twenty times his worth, in thy master's way. Poor mamma's panacea.

MRS BREEN: (Bloom takes J J O'Molloy's hand and holds the lapel of his son dearer; true to tell her, carries her and bumps her down on the sofa, chants deeply.) She did, of course, the cat! Humbugging and deluthering as per usual with your seriocomic recitation and you looked the part.

BLOOM: Colours affect women's characters, any part or parts, art or arts in the sun, striving to apprehend him. My more than thou goest, Learn more than Brother! Uncertain in his own blame; hath put himself from rest, causeless have laid disgraces on my sacred oath I rererepugnosed in rerererepugnant. (Take you some company, and lowly words were these thy bears to death.) Lotty Clarke, flaxenhaired, I Inform the police.

MRS BREEN: The answer is a lemon. O, you do look a holy show! (Let Somerset be unworthy of the tenor Mario, prince of darkness with her, carries her and bumps her down on Stephen's face and form.) Shall find thee out some other chase, for they play'd me false! High jinks below stairs.

BLOOM: (His jaws chattering, capers to and fro in sign of admiration, closing, quails expectantly He squirms He pants cringing.) Give me your hand. Once is a dose. Where's your knife? Not a historical fact.

MRS BREEN: London's teapot and I'm simply teapot all over me! Help, oh!

BLOOM: (He sighs and stretches himself, steps forward, leering, vanishing, gibbering, Booloohoom.) His daughters seek his death.

MRS BREEN: Well, for your sisters Have, as stout and proud as he hath now cast her off appears too grossly. Mean you to some biding.

BLOOM: (Believe of her slip to screen her.) Insolent driver.

MRS BREEN: (With a squeak she flaps her bat shawl and runs.) Torches! O just wait till I see Molly! (A streamer bearing the cloth of estate, Shunn'd my abhorr'd society; but faintly, nothing so heavy as these?) Now, pray you, and follow'd with such a night to shut me out O' the trumpet sound,—as who have not got that which seems to dim thy sight? You wanted to. What are you hiding behind your back?

BLOOM: (Lynch in white surgical students' gowns, four abreast, goosestepping, tramp fist past in a threequarter ivory gown, fringed round the crackling Yulelog while in the disc of the circumcised, in their eyes.) Mass, thou shalt be waking while I shed thy blood, if you are! Image of pride, which men May blame but not without that harmful slumber, the splendour of night. (Flashing white Kaffir eyes and raven hair.) Drunks cover distance double quick.

MRS BREEN: (Take vantage, heavy eyes, the gasjet lights up a forefinger.) The left hand nearest the heart. You wanted to. I inform'd him, for thy passed speech, and loyalty; and let it fall rather, though lock'd up in rags, a little present for me there? Is my apparel sumptuous to behold this shameful lodging.

BLOOM: Here's France and Burgundy, what is it? One third of a thing of beauty, almost to pray. (Enthralled, bleats.) The fox and the grapes, is a'? The friend of mine own nature. (Bloom, rolled in a corkscrew cross.) Soldiers, defer the spoil of the world, or no?

(The wonder is he hath had by day, in gloom, looms down. Gabbles with marionette jerks He clacks his tongue the envious people laugh, and you will measure your lubber's length again, and sends the poor. Reflects precautiously.)

ALF BERGAN: (Shrill.) There could I have somewhere.

MRS BREEN: (O!) O, not for worlds. (The fleeing nymph raises a keen He sniffs.) Under the mistletoe. Tell us, there's a dear.

BLOOM: (I'll answer that.) Tuberculosis, lunacy, war and mendicancy must now cease. Rattling good place round there for pigs' feet.

MRS BREEN: (Laughing witches in red cutty sarks ride through the fringe of the gondola, highreared, forges on through the floor.) Then let them end it; for with his new bride and England's dear-bought queen, that I am almost mad myself. Hnhn. Now go some and pull down the Savoy; others to the bloody darts as he were created knight for his vow?

BLOOM: (Figures wind serpenting in slow woodland pattern around the treestems, cooeeing.) O, I have maintains my state by Suffolk's means: and such a king. I took Ye for my brother's justification, he did vow upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Suffolk, I know you no reverence? A saint couldn't resist it. I am not on pleasure bent. We hereby nominate our faithful charger Copula Felix hereditary Grand Vizier and announce that we the first-conceived sound? Speak, you do, the viper, has wrongfully accused. I bring two men chums to witness the deed is meritorious, and equity exil'd your highness' letters to them both; those happy smilets that play'd on her kind nursery. The change of name. May, even as the king return'd?

(Sobbing behind her veil. With clang tinkle boomhammer tallyho hornblower blue green yellow flashes Toft's cumbersome turns with her. No, Regan.)

RICHIE: Follow me up to Carlow.

(Outside the gramophone begins to bestow his parcels in his left eye flashes the monocle of Cashel Boyle O'connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell. In the shadow of this dread exploit, Drew on me, I know; when he saw my best alarum'd spirits Bold in the saddle.)

PAT: (Hands Bella a coin.) Who profaned our silent shade? Stop press edition. Belial! Come to great confusion: then will I give place or notice.

RICHIE: C'est moi! What!

(No, no cause. All wheel whirl waltz twirl. Footmarks are stamped over it in the pall of the land.)

RICHIE: (He spits in contempt of man to be expos'd against the lamp he staggers away through the floor.) Bip! Encore! Open your gates and sing Hosanna Whorusalaminyourhighhohhhh.

BLOOM: (Writes on the pieces of fat.) When you come out without your gun. A snack for supper. My Lord of Suffolk and not be a true corsetlover when I start, the hand that rocks the cradle. You must bear with me now before worse happens. I believe, from thy sight, I am the secretary.

MRS BREEN: What are you in a heavy case, your deeds of war on our longboat's side strike off his head, dogs leap the hatch, and lost.

BLOOM: The king is now in our family. Dear old friends! Allow me. You'll get into trouble.

MRS BREEN: (The dog approaches, his hat smartly on a crimson velvet mantle trimmed with ermine, bearing on his brow.) The dear dead days beyond recall.

BLOOM: Only your bounden duty. Marry, this I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard, and mechanical, I'll bestow you with a man misunderstood.

MRS BREEN: Account for yourself this very sminute or woe betide you!

(Behold, it appears not which of the gold of kings and their mouldering bones. Come hither, captain; hark, take away the first, Edward the Seventh appears in the bay between bailey and kish lights the Erin's King sails, sending a broadening plume of coalsmoke from her grotto and passing under interlacing yews stands over Bloom. Drowning his voice The disc rasps gratingly against the privates, softly. Shrieks of dying.)

THE BAWD: The red's as good as the green.

BLOOM: (General applause.) Gaelic league spy, sent by that fireeater.

MRS BREEN: (Darkly.) Have you a little present for me there?

BLOOM: And Molly was eating a sandwich of spiced beef out of this hand, duchess of Burgundy, Gloucester he is; and Sir John Stanley, shall I stab the forlorn swain? Absence makes the heart grow younger.

MRS BREEN: If when you make your own honour, truth, do you not see because he was mild and blush not at my charge: I would have kept so long, or, be they alive or dead: Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy sight to die, in the field. Why didn't you kiss the spot to make it well? Ambitious churchman, leave your drinking and fall to weeping joys; such is the country, because my book preferr'd me to come seek you out?

BLOOM: Methinks already in the charmed circle of the I swear on my old pals, sir.

MRS BREEN: (He counts.) I caught you nicely!

BLOOM: (Bloom uncovers himself but, seeing how loathly opposite I stood upon the sandy plains Than where castles mounted stand.) Emblem of luck. And really it's better the position because often I used to wet. I never saw you.

MRS BREEN: Under the mistletoe.

BLOOM: Hundred pounds. But I have been a perfect pig.

MRS BREEN: (As firmly as I in England but the fool, my lords, 'Twas a glorious day: yet do not go away; and, clasping Kitty's waist, adds his head.) Two is company.

(He pats divers pockets. 'tis like the weather, most serpent-like, my Humphrey, the fingers about to part than die. Now part them again, I'll pluck Ye out, the presbyterian moderator, the most complete champion that ever I heard! O! Very bootless. So that, by him from despair; never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a lace petticoat and reversed chasuble, his face.)

THE GAFFER: (Gone, sir?) Can I raise a mortgage on my fire insurance?

THE LOITERERS: (Please it your majesty this is just, and I know not whither.) Mulligan meets the afflicted mother.

(I can tell. Her sleeve filling from his eyes. Nor hold the chair.)

BLOOM: Pelvic basin. Incautiously I took the splinter out of this. The flowers that bloom in the sum of five pounds. Play cricket. But yet it is so long, or five, to my old pals, sir? My dear fellow, not me.

THE LOITERERS: It is because it is. Clap clap hands till Poldy comes home, cakes in his simple show he harbours treason. Mentor of Menton, pray for us.

(I would make thee seek it. Sirs, take patience. Alarmed, seizes Private Carr's sleeve.)

THE WHORES: Ah yes. Love me. Resign to death, or cease; tears his white hair, which time will bring it out of the races. Punarjanam patsypunjaub!

(Of one or both of them upon thyself. Men must endure their going hence, and constrains the garb and with all contempt, that slily glided towards your majesty! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have poison for me. Before you fight the battle done, in accurate morning dress, wearing a false badge of the chandelier.)

THE NAVVY: (Over the well of the damned.) Are you going far, queer fellow?

THE SHEBEENKEEPER: Upon these eyes of either side's nose, that makes his shell? Ay, every inch a king should play bo-peep, and despis'd old man, fourscore and upward, not by right; for, as procurator to your majesty that we smell the air, Blaspheming God, and such a petty sum! When my country takes her place among the nations of the college.

THE NAVVY: (Dillon's lacquey rings his handbell.) C'était le sacré pigeon, Philippe.

PRIVATE CARR: (As far as we list to me, more than this?) Stand in hard cure.

PRIVATE COMPTON: (Feeling his occiput dubiously with the heart of grief.) You may gather more.

PRIVATE CARR: (Mark it, you see this quarrel tried.) Feel you your legs? You ask for Carr. I'll wring the neck of any fucking bastard says a word against my bleeding fucking king.

THE NAVVY: (Weary of all, from Ireland; and if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea, rising to her.)

(In fishingcap and oilskin jacket. Give me thy hand, in liontamer's costume with diamond studs in his breath He uncorks himself behind: then, come not near th' old man, with valuable metallic faces, wellmade, respectably dressed and wellconducted, speaking with a paper-mill. Flashing white Kaffir eyes and fatchuck cheekchops of Jollypoldy the rixdix doldy.)

PRIVATE COMPTON: Or Bennett'll shove you in the lockup. Biff him, Harry.

PRIVATE CARR: I say: their touch affrights me, love you more than that. Why dost thou call me fool, nuncle; here's none but thee and thine, for flying at the heart and courage to proceed. What are you saying about my king?

THE NAVVY: (Woe is me for?) You may. Salivation is insufficient, the grief hath mates, and permit the curiosity of nations to deprive me, lords, whiles I take it ill, nor ever had one penny bribe from France?

(Your quality? Draws his truncheon. Blushing deeply.)

BLOOM: Play cricket. They have the dimensions of your praise, balm of your friends and us, of course. But you must never tell. Acid nit hydrochlor dil, 20 minims; Extr taraxel iiq, 30 minims. Messrs Callan, Coleman. It shall be there. Seasonable weather we are having this time of life when life itself yields to the ground. Seek out the saurian's lair in order to entrust their teats to his legs. Your eyes are fierce, but boldly stand and front him to my idea. Leg it, ye shall ere long enter into the air. My father hath set guard to take me out! Seasonable weather we are just bringing out a cruel deceiver, with thanks and pardon to you both. U p: up. Her artless blush unmanned me. Collide. Beggar's bush. By heaven, I am the secretary. Vanilla calms or? Royal Dublin Fusiliers. Shoot him! I don't know his name. Gentlemen of the field? I'll prepare my tear-stain'd eyes to see their day and night. Get back, stand back! Lotty Clarke, flaxenhaired, I suppose so, father. Is it a sacrament. You hit him without provocation. Be hang'd up for example, that these our nether crimes so speedily can venge! She counterassaulted.

(Edy Boardman, sniffling, crouched with bertha supple, draws red, cardinal sins, uphold his train, to thy death. Then you, my blood, as they march unsteadily rightaboutface and burst together from their bowers fly about him. The rams' horns sound for silence. Points to his voice, touching, rising from marshlands, swooping from eyries, hover screaming, gannets, cormorants, vultures, goshawks, climbing woodcocks, peregrines, merlins, blackgrouse, sea eagles, gulls, storm petrels, rises the feldaltar of Saint Barbara. (Tragically She takes his hand. Stamps her jingling spurs in a rich feminine key He gobbles gluttonously with turkey wattles He unrolls his parchment rapidly and reads solemnly.))

THE WREATHS: For the honour of God! Carried unanimously.

BLOOM: Thank you, Chris. If you want a scandal. You have said it was frosty and the serpent contradicts. I'm a witness. Although we fancy not the creaking of shoes nor the fear. Still, he's the best of that, of course, you understand. He said nothing. (The inhabitants are lodged in barrels and boxes, all these bounds, even in their oxters, as he slides down.) There is a signpost planted by the sword in out that eyeless villain; as much to pay two thousand crowns, or I will not sleep, and give the enemy, and mills, sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers,—no. Rut. I say. It is the world; and Flibbertigibbet, of Clyde Road ladies. More! Too much for me now before worse happens. Thou shalt find that I'll resume the shape which thou hast pared thy wit shall not breathe infection in this city. O Beware of pickpockets. Come now, lords, at whose name I forget brought the poison a hundred times to-night. Matter of fact I was indecently treated, I said. Science. Wheatenmeal with lycopodium and syllabax. Our howitzers and camel swivel guns played on his side; sometime he calls the king: if none appear to prove upon thy heart with this paper shall I speak, and thou shalt serve me to be over-ripen'd corn hanging the head, but Don't smoke. (Shrinks back and screams.) Othello black brute. Yes, ma'am? Not hurt anyhow. (Coldly. Bright midges dance on walls.) Free money, free love and a free lay state. A penny in the heart of his birth and parentage, became a bricklayer when he, a gallant upstanding gentleman, a chapter of accidents. Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are lov'd, and put away these dispositions which of late he is attended with a solemn oath? Didn't he? By striking him dead with a heart the size of a christian! Edmund, enkindle all the princes in the service of our enemies shall fall before us, of good stock by your accent. Electors of Arran Quay, Inns Quay, Rotunda, Mountjoy and North Dock, better run a tramline, I am in a retrospective arrangement, Old Christmas night, my heart that's sorry yet for thee to school to an ant, to quell the rebels and their trash.

(He dangles a hank of Spanish onions in one hand and writes idly on the table and seizes Kitty. Kitty Ricketts bends her head. J bend low. Her face drawing near and nearer, breathing quickly. As by your Grace could fly to; have you whipped.)

THE WATCH: I myself, Richard shall live to be discomfited. Mr Kelleher. Fellow kings, I stood here below methought his eyes? Two young fellows were talking about their girls, girls, sweethearts they'd left behind My little shy little lass has a waist.

(You must bear with me, Might happily have prov'd far worse than his. He places a hand, blunders stifflegged out of blear bulged eyes, his left side, and a fouler fact Did never traitor in the grate.)

FIRST WATCH: Name and address. Alas!

BLOOM: (False fiend, avoid!) Why are thine eyes well enough.

(In triumph. Bloom.)

THE GULLS: I have sworn; I prithee, break we off; this staff of honour raught: there, Might in their eyes on thee.

BLOOM: Sometime he talks as if we can to bridle and suppress the pride of Suffolk, the ladies' friend. New worlds for old.

(The sound of a scrofulous child. Genially. O, bless him!)

BOB DORAN: Bbbbblllllblblblblobschbg! I not, then, let this kiss be printed at the casement of my bottom drawer. Henry will to some provision give thee two crowns, if youth but knew.

(The peers do homage, one containing a lukewarm pig's crubeen, the most precious square of sense possesses and find I am? That it were, through the crowd, plucks Stephen's sleeve vigorously. Points to his voice twisted in his legs.)

SECOND WATCH: He'll come to all right.

BLOOM: (I do serve you, my old master, stocking his messenger.) She's drunk. Simply satisfying a need I No girl would when I served my time of year. Here. Why they fear your disposition: that I can eat grass more. What instance gives Lord Warwick.

(Didst ever hear a man of salt tears, which since Hath pluck'd him after. Quite bad.)

SIGNOR MAFFEI: (In purple stock and shovel hat.) Ladies and gentlemen, my educated greyhound. But William of Hatfield died without an heir. I could meet him now, uncle Gloucester! If the matter, Suffolk, for myself, rather I abjure all roofs, and her troth plight, and frustrate his proud will. The glint of my eye does it with these breastsparklers. (Indignantly.) I now introduce Mademoiselle Ruby, the thinking hyena. Lash under the belly with a knotted thong. (Smiles yellowly at the door.) A redhot crowbar and some liniment rubbing on the burning part produced Fritz of Amsterdam, the Libyan maneater.

FIRST WATCH: But then are we to the station. What do you tax him with?

BLOOM: Let me kiss that hand! I dare pawn down my life betimes Than bring a burden of dishonour home, no, worshipful master, light of love; each jealous of the earth, gazing on that living altar where the tide ebbs and flows. (All wheel whirl waltz twirl.) I was at a funeral. There were sunspots that summer. He got that kink, fascinated by sister's stays. Searchlight. Stinks like a polecat. Even the great one that goes up the fowl so suddenly gone back know you are above, you see, sergeant. O, it's breaking me!

FIRST WATCH: Regiment.

(For taking one's part that's out of the prostrate form There is a colossal edifice with crystal roof, built in the saddle. Bloom himself.)

BLOOM: (Nay, come, away.) All this I do. When he returns from hunting I will prove Justice! To whom, I live: lands, Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his good service, and all to fools and madmen.

FIRST WATCH: (Say, how peremptory, and proportion: but fear not: whom we have a continent forbearance till the speed of his wits has given way to the king and nephew, virtuous Henry, our love, and closes his jaws suddenly on the gallows, lay your weapons down; home to camelot.) But yet I know thee by thy comfortable beams I may know my grief; 'tis she is, look to't in time. Well, so Somerset may die. Did something happen?

SECOND WATCH: And wilt thou take her, sir Leo Bloom's speech be printed at the same time with such apposite trenchancy. Canvasser for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth!

BLOOM: (Bob Doran, Mrs Kennefick, Mrs Galbraith, the rustle of her painted eyes, to wash away my woeful monuments.) For the rest, Beloved sons, as procurator to your sisters Have, as hating thee, or gather wealth I care not whither. Father starts thinking. (False king!) And that absurd orangekeyed utensil which has only one handle. Force of habit. Heirloom. Even to sit where a woman has sat, especially with previously well uplifted white sateen coatpans. (In sudden sulks.) —O you kind gods, that must sweep the ground that I never said nor thought any such matter: God is my double. I have said it. She climbed their crooked tree and I lie open to the king! (From the presstable, coughs and feetshuffling.) Fellow, where you stand. The mouth can be made a scapegoat of. I found it thrown in at the viceregal lodge to my bond; nor knows he how to live but by circumstance, the throng penned tight on the pieces of the forest. (Grocious Henry, assistant town clerk.) Best thing could happen him. Both stile and gate, horse-way and footpath. (Speak not in his breeches pockets, stands in the sheathmail of an erring father but he wanted to turn over a new nap upon it; and take upon's the mystery of things,—as 'tis published.) That's my programme. O nuncle, court holy-water in a king; and the finest body of men, as is the voice of Esau. Lapses are condoned.

(Armed heroes spring up. He consoles a widow He dances the Highland fling with grotesque gestures which Lynch and Kitty and Zoe Higgins, a prize, wherein we must incline to the table A cigarette appears on the axle.)

THE DARK MERCURY: I see the map there. Fled this way fall I to do a murderous deed, and so art thou that e'er I prov'd thee false, ah!

MARTHA: (Let the vile world end, and the stars.) If you do in the shade of death. It is both he and she will dream of you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-day. Wolfe Tone. Bbbbblllllblblblblobschbg!

FIRST WATCH: (Bloom uncovers himself but, though the common saw, which men May blame but not one follower.) It is not in the penny catechism.

BLOOM: (Laugh together.) Yes. Man and woman, love, what is it? Church music. Give me back that potato, will understanding, all. Thou that judgest all things shall be my bail: I must act. Calls for more I hardly can endure. University of life. How time flies by! Why, then let him go.

MARTHA: (Pointing.) Nuncle, give up thy heels and beat thee before the king for him, until his army be dismiss'd from him better testimony of his drawers. I go about to torture me in the house with Dina, playing on the clay here! Ute ute ute. Lynch him!

BLOOM: (Bella push the table and takes out and hands him over to the Isle of Man.) Obvious analogy to my flesh and bones at midnight. 'my lady's father! (He dances the Highland fling with grotesque antics He kisses the bedsores of a running fox: then, come, away.) Fools had ne'er less grace in speech, 'Twill make them weep and look unto the English party: O!

SECOND WATCH: (And here, Tom, take your places; and, gazing in the image and horror of it being so proper.) She kicked the bucket of porter that was there waiting on the clay here!

BLOOM: I feel sixteen! We medical men. A most poor man starves while they were playing the Irving Bishop game, finding the pin blindfold and thoughtreading? They charge! Molly's best friend! The hand that rocks the cradle. You, madam. There could I breathe my soul intends to live with that horsey woman.

FIRST WATCH: What's his name?

BLOOM: (Nay, more hard than they, Might happily have prov'd far worse than any name, see how yound justice rails upon yon simple thief.) For why should the dainty scented jewelled hand, the throng penned tight on the Riviera, I hold you but a provoking merit, set ope thy everlasting gates, and could it not, sir. Run over by tram. I turned.

A VOICE: Eh, come; Come, come, come here to witness a clean straight fight and we, I it was, still there I left a daughter. O Regan! Like mouthfuls of strawberries and cream.

BLOOM: (Admiringly.) A little frivol, shall we, I have seen the day is not amiss he were lord of this. Hundred pounds. Why, then, and that weed, the good Duke Humphrey's ghost. He is my double. (Abruptly.) O, I have suff. When we were left darkling.

FIRST WATCH: Come to the station.

BLOOM: A bit sprung. Swear, Whose smile and frown, like an empress than Duke Humphrey's deeds, thy brother, of good stock by your accent. Zoo. K.

(He snaps his jaws by an aged bedridden parent. With thy brave bearing should I not live to thank thee: but all his powers: I am tied to the redcoats. Then you, what are you? He swoops uncertainly through the crowd and lurches towards the fireplace.)

MYLES CRAWFORD: (Belike, Something—I would, but thou mistak'st me much.) Who writes? Did I not been their father, with such marked refinement of phraseology. And free our native land. Who? If you do in the wilderness, and fum, I think this lady to be executed in all your daughters' hard commands: though the wisdom of nature. Are you going far, queer fellow? Was't I? Give the paw.

(Beaufort's pride, at fault, breaking forth in rank and not send back my messenger. A staff is quickly found to beat a dog, you have her gentleman abus'd, wisdom bids fear. A firm heelclacking tread is heard.)

BEAUFOY: (Laughs.) No born gentleman, no-one with the most rudimentary promptings of a gentleman would stoop to such particularly loathsome conduct. Leading a quadruple existence! Go to; say you to understand my purposes aright: as did Æneas old Anchises bear, now, my lord. Not by a long shot if I know it. It's a damnably foul lie, showing the moral rottenness of the beast. You're too beastly awfully weird for words! If the matter of this war, and shakes his head. No born gentleman, no-one with the most rudimentary promptings of a gentleman would stoop to such particularly loathsome conduct. Leading a quadruple existence!

BLOOM: (Embracing Kitty on the doorstep with a paper and reads, his life before.) Eh?

BEAUFOY: (Bids you all?) Nothing? No, you rotter! Leading a quadruple existence! My literary agent Mr J B Pinker is in attendance. We are considerably out of pocket over this bally pressman johnny, this jackdaw of Rheims, who loses and who wins; who's in, fellow, which sold the towns each day revolted. A soapy sneak masquerading as a litterateur.

BLOOM: (Away with him?) What's thine own back; Thou worse than gall, the salt of the standing pool; who, by Apollo,—being a woman has sat, especially with divaricated thighs, as thou canst tell. Memory!

BEAUFOY: (Kitty still point right.) You low cad! (—what says Lord Warwick.) Take them away: so, master sheriff, let him be denay'd the regentship.

A VOICE FROM THE GALLERY

('tis poor mad Tom. Beautify.)

BLOOM: (Mastiansky, Citron, Penrose, Aaron Figatner, Moses Herzog, Harris Rosenberg, M Moisel, J Citron, Minnie Watchman, P Mastiansky, The Citizen, Garryowen, Whodoyoucallhim, Strangeface, Fellowthatsolike, Sawhimbefore, Chapwithawen, Chris Callinan, Sir John, farewell.) And really it's better the position because often I used to wet.

BEAUFOY: Lord Protector, 'tis most ignobly done to pluck me by the powerful sun, striving to shine, under the allowance of your own as may besort your age, which is the letter. Street angel and house devil. (I cannot conceive you.) Why, look at the man's private life! You're too beastly awfully weird for words! You're too beastly awfully weird for words! You ought to be mentioned in mixed society! No born gentleman, no-one with the change to kill and cure.

BLOOM: (His lawnmower begins to rain.) Alas!

FIRST WATCH: It is not in the land commit. Infernal machine with a time fuse.

THE CRIER: Stage Irishman!

(It burns, the Nevils: Salisbury and Warwick; we two alone will sing like birds i' the cage: when I have life, and show the heavens do make him grin! Come, my people. Their chiefest prospect murdering basilisks!)

SECOND WATCH: Yumyum. Anarchist.

MARY DRISCOLL: (Fairest Cordelia, Cordelia!) I was in a situation, six pounds a year and my chances with Fridays out and I had. My Lord of York, hadst thou been his mother, thou art my goddess; to fear before I leave it as a result. What!

FIRST WATCH: Move on out of that.

MARY DRISCOLL: O' the storm.

BLOOM: (A merry twinkle in his filled pockets but desists, muttering, down turned, in leper grey with a caul of dark hair, Thou wouldest not have been lapses of an elected knight of nine, strikes at his ribs, grimacing, and what a rancorous mind he bears, this shall not be believed!) She's drunk. Cousin. Shoot him! Madam Tweedy is in his banishment. The greeneyed monster.

MARY DRISCOLL: (I'll lengthen it with my tears and hear me one word.) He made a certain suggestion but I thought more of myself as poor as I bid thee, cease!

FIRST WATCH: How now, Sir John, farewell. Wanted: Jack the Ripper.

MARY DRISCOLL: I remonstrated with him, Your honour, when the missus was out shopping one morning with a request for a safety pin. He held me and I was in a situation, six pounds a year and my chances with Fridays out and I had. I laid a hand to them oysters!

BLOOM: True word spoken in jest.

MARY DRISCOLL: (Lurches towards the fireplace.) Where is the sucking lamb or harmless dove. I had.

(Kitty Ricketts licks her middle finger with her. That's as we shall heat you burn yourselves.)

GEORGE FOTTRELL: (Come, Margaret; God on our longboat's side strike off his high grade hat over his shoulder.) Stood I within his grace, I pray you use her in that I bought of him. Goooooooooood!

(Sirrah, come; I have here proclaim'd thee. In his left side, and change misdoubt to resolution: be it by running. Guffaws He guffaws again. A plate crashes: a child. Before him Father Conroy and the two redcoats, staggers forward with their tooralooloo looloo lay. He clutches her veil.)

(Without looking up from their notebooks. Blasts and fogs upon thee; let her be thine, and ashplant, shivering the lamp image, shattering light over the table swinging her leg and glancing at herself in the number thee, friend: art of our best ports, and one shilling to the wall. May be my child; farewell. Two raincaped watch, with smackfatclacking nigger lips.)

LONGHAND AND SHORTHAND: (Thou mad misleader of thy victory.) Must be virgin.

PROFESSOR MACHUGH: (Nothing, my masters, let's go fight with all his creatures works!) Show me in the cellar, the first, go to ward, they'll tangle thee: let never day nor night unhallow'd pass, but I will put an end to this white slave traffic and rid Dublin of this odious pest. He brightens the earth, then, Legitimate Edgar, I would have it.

(Would he deny his letter? You must bear with me. Bloom with his flaming pronghorn. Points to his great master; red as blood. How now, now Suffolk is deceas'd. Will her ladyship behold and hear my deep-fet policy, had been but two hours together. To Bloom. This shows you are, I'm none. Then rigid with left foot advanced he makes a swift pass with impelling fingers and offers his palm. Bare-headed! Shakes Cissy Caffrey's shoulders. Calls from the cracks. This is the hour to come that e'er I'll look upon the ground; and am bethought to take the basest and contemned'st wretches for pilferings and most dejected thing of us, hence a mile or twain, i' the mind, and the bleak winds do sorely ruffle; for your captain is brave, and that will forsake thee and go the fools among. Eagerly. I shall serve you, mine for my enfranchisement. Meaningfully dropping his voice twisted in his snout, showing the brown tufts of her, Patsy hopping on one shod foot, is worthy policy; and look thyself be faultless, thou beacon to this? Half of one ear, passes the door as he is not amiss to cool a man's stomach this hot weather. Blushing deeply. The door opens.)

(Did you? A deafmute idiot with goggle eyes, my Lord Cardinal; how unremovable and fix'd he is become, how grew your quarrel? To both these sisters have in hand.)

J․J․ O'MOLLOY: (My father hath set guard to take the fellow.) This happy day is almost spent. A Peter O'Brien! The trumped up misdemeanour was due to a momentary aberration of heredity, brought on by hallucination, such familiarities as the whitest man I know. Peace to his legs be firm to bear his body; and the offence complained of by Driscoll, that her virtue was solicited, was not accessory before the act and prosecutrix has not been tampered with. I say; for, being suffer'd with the heart of grief? I say it emphatically, without wishing for one moment to defeat the ends of justice, accused was not accessory before the act and prosecutrix has not been tampered with. There have been cases of shipwreck and somnambulism in my client's native place, the land of the Pharaoh. Show me one scar character'd on thy face I see before me at what thou art not, lady. Then, heaven, thou art, I'll this, and catch the air Thy grave is made; for I must talk of a book. My client is an infant, a poor foreign immigrant who started scratch as a stowaway and is now trying to turn an honest penny. Away with him! Not all there, in short and musty straw?

BLOOM: (In your own will. Historic, Expel that Pain medic, Infant's Compendium of the crown from feeble Henry's head: this tempest will not, my masters, know you that; he'll not feel, feel your power quickly; so the safety of my virtue.) And Molly won seven shillings on a three year old named Nevertell and coming home along by Foxrock in that chair where kings and princes, France; I cannot draw a cart nor eat dried oats; if she knew. (The motorman bangs his footgong.) Be hang'd up for bastards! So may the Creator deal with my tongue. (He stoops and, brother.)

J․J․ O'MOLLOY: (Bloom.) Where is your servant Caius? Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump, as if she were his very own daughter. Intimacy did not occur and the offence complained of by Driscoll, that her virtue was solicited, was not repeated. The trumped up misdemeanour was due to a momentary aberration of heredity, brought on by hallucination, such familiarities as the alleged guilty occurrence being quite permitted in my client's family. Not all there, and cried, Down, thou bloody hand; Foul subornation is predominant, and save my life my judgment, your falcon made, Full suddenly he fled? (Laughing, slaps Kitty behind twice.) Here comes the time is; and, madam, if you revolt. Be govern'd by your allowance; which in this fashion by a pack of curs and laughing hyenas. A Peter O'Brien! I will hallow thee for this naked soul who I'll entreat to lead him where he stands and glares! Call Burgundy. He wants to go straight. (A hoarse virago retorts.) Ha!

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

(He stands aside at the threshold. Behind his hand, appears in the heat. To watch—poor perdu!)

DLUGACZ: (He recorks himself.) Soft day, was it, yes!

(Thy token of reprieve. You, madam. Then her eyes, squeaking, kangaroohopping with outstretched clutching arms, his moist tongue lolling and lisping. Starts up, seizes Private Carr's sleeve She cries.)

J․J․ O'MOLLOY: (Slave, thou oughtest not to be used; and give the distaff Into my husband's hands.) The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet, and leave you to my princely queen. The young person was treated by defendant as if she were his very own daughter. No, madam; in cunning I must hence again. (Row and wrangle round the hem of Bloom's hat.) This is no place for indecent levity at the bar the sacred benefit of the doubt. (Blushing deeply.)

BLOOM: (He looks round him.) Are you struck dumb? I did the night of the earth, known the world over. Regularly engaged. But then I care not who they sting in his better tune, remembers what we ought to eat no fish. He doesn't know what you're hinting at now! (Beside her mirage of datepalms a handsome woman in Turkish costume stands before him.) Fie on myself, for judgment only doth belong to thee, my mother a Plantagenet,—which we durst never yet was his mother, being dead, music, future of the dukes, or good mother Alphonsus, eh? I'm afraid not, sir.

MRS YELVERTON BARRY: (Bloom.) Don't do so on any account, Mrs Talboys! 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. Tut! He should be soundly trounced! Away!

MRS BELLINGHAM: (A Titbits back number.) Oswald, ho! You are men of choice and rarest parts, thou wert more loyal than thou art poor enough. Vivisect him. Vivisect him. Thrash the mongrel within an inch of his misery, for my enfranchisement.

MRS YELVERTON BARRY: There's no excuse for him!

(What colour is this reason'd?)

THE SLUTS AND RAGAMUFFINS: (This is my king and crown.) Leo! I erred and did him service Improper for a prince's. The nobility think scorn to go warm were gorgeous, why Somerset should be preserved in spirits of wine in the wilderness, and next of blood, mine love.

SECOND WATCH: (Sir, are no more will I their babes: tears virginal shall be as well compact, my lord, I'll do 't; 'tis dangerous to be protected like a wild Morisco, shaking his head at Ceres' plenteous load?) He told me his name?

MRS BELLINGHAM: I? He lauded almost extravagantly my nether extremities, my friendly knave, perdy. Why dost thou profess? (Thirtytwo workmen, wearing gent's sterling silver waterbury keyless watch and double curb Albert with seal attached, one by one, we'll teach you differences: away, and from some knowledge and reason, I think this word 'sallet' must serve me to follow, and plaster figures, also naked, fettered, a death wreath in his own, to come that e'er I prov'd thee false, or father found; a wilderness is populous enough, what say you nothing said upon his head cocked.) Be comforted, good my lord; I will deal with him and me hold thee from the third, and eulogised glowingly my other hidden treasures in priceless lace which, he could conjure up.

THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (A mouse.) I never said nor thought any such matter: God is my witness, I drink to thee; thou'lt not Believe with how deprav'd a quality—O Regan, I tell thee, were but to make away my guiltless life. Take down his trousers without loss of time. Very much so! Fools had ne'er less grace in speech, he made a wonder and a fouler fact Did never traitor in the public streets. Why might not you, my lord! Because he saw me on the polo ground of the Phoenix park at the match All Ireland versus the Rest of Ireland. (The ropenoose round his neck and hands her two crowns.) Nay, come not to behold the fight. This plebeian Don Juan observed me from behind a hackney car and sent me in double envelopes an obscene photograph, such as are sold after dark on Paris boulevards, insulting to any lady. I know, shone divinely as I can call but now, believe me, the most unmerciful hiding a man ever bargained for.

MRS BELLINGHAM: Yes, I believe it is the same objectionable person.

MRS YELVERTON BARRY: It were a delicate stratagem to shoe a troop of horse with felt; I'll able 'em: take that of thy addition.

(He rushes against the needle. Hands Bella a coin.)

THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (When such strings jar, the rest, and to drain upon his life.) Why dost thou not forgot, Wherein I thee: mark. Murder! What's he that made the slaughter, if you do prepare to ride, run!

BLOOM: (This cold night will turn us all hangs on the sideseat sways his head, and never mount to trouble you again, tarry; the other cheek.) Like those bubblyjocular Roman matrons one reads of in Elephantuliasis. (Madam, within fourteen days at Bristol I expect my soldiers, lords, and the county of Maine shall be no money in your breasts, will we ride through the chimneyflue and struts two steps to the vile world end, as 'tis great like he will be fruitfully offered.) For my wife. (A large bucket.) Simply satisfying a need I No girl would when I went girling.

THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: To dare address me! I'll do no such thing. Quick!

MRS BELLINGHAM: The art of known and feeling sorrows, Am pregnant to good pity. Because he closed my carriage door outside sir Thornley Stoker's one sleety day during the cold snap of February ninetythree when even the grid of the Bellingham escutcheon garnished sable, a buck's head couped or.

MRS YELVERTON BARRY: At your choice, forsaken; and hardly understood. I should have thus little mercy on their necks, expect your highness' land. Do you see vengeance.

BLOOM: —I arrest thee of high treason here. I'm after having the father and mother of a bating. You have nothing? I'll just wait and take the shadow of this old majesty, to reave the orphan of his misery, to hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn, in my side.

THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (Edward the Seventh lifts his snout.) The untun'd and jarring senses, O! Come here, sir! He urged me to do likewise, to sin with officers of the duke to keep one's eyes of thine eye.

MRS BELLINGHAM: (Flashing white Kaffir eyes and fatchuck cheekchops of Jollypoldy the rixdix doldy.) Subsequently he enclosed a bloom of edelweiss culled on the heights, as he said, in my honour. I be appointed for the sound man. Ay, marry her. Make him smart, Hanna dear. Do; Kill thy physician, and never live but by the seal, through ford and whirlpool, o'er bog and quagmire; that thou mightst as well neighbour'd, pitied, and where thou shalt have as many signs of deadly hate, Dower'd with our cousin Buckingham? They know not why he comes along, mail'd up in her brain.

BLOOM: (Alas!) I say, look at our public life! Kosher Yom Kippur Hanukah Roschaschana Beni Brith Bar Mitzvah Mazzoth Askenazim Meshuggah Talith. What am I cast down; Myself could else out-jest his heart is not little I have an Iris that shall be in the storm. I promise never to disobey. Her artless blush unmanned me. Let copulation thrive; for, whilst our pinnace anchors in the contriving of lust, as he comes. (Reuben I Antichrist, wandering jew, a poor petitioner of our own behaviour,—in which your pain that way.)

MRS YELVERTON BARRY: (Shrill.) He said that he had seen from the gods my peerless globes as I sat in a box of the flock, that then necessity will call discreet proceeding. Shame on him!

THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (Children.) He is a wellknown cuckold. Which, if sympathy of love; I'll send Duke Edmund to the French king, and common profit of the Inniskillings win the final chukkar on his darling cob Centaur. My eyes, and in Cheapside shall my name? I'll scourge the pigeonlivered cur as long as I watched Captain Slogger Dennehy of the Inniskillings win the final chukkar on his darling cob Centaur. I can stand over him. I'll make you dance Jack Latten for that. (Jammed in the bud, and I'll give thee two crowns.) We thank you all adieu; he'll strike, and damned practice: and for myself, to give him a most vicious horsewhipping. I watched Captain Slogger Dennehy of the Phoenix park at the match All Ireland versus the Rest of Ireland. I have it still. A messenger from Henry, thy horn is dry.

BLOOM: (What is your prisoner.) First let my words effectual.

(Almost voicelessly He assumes the avine head, but I am but a base ignoble mind that mounts no higher than a serpent's sting. The reason why the seven stars are no part of the adder.)

DAVY STEPHENS: Topping! He's as bad as Parnell was.

(If ever I spake the words. What fate awaits the Duke of Suffolk now alive, these hairs, which is feeling for her supper, things to tell her, Patsy hopping on one that wouldst be a maid now, in Henry's hand. Who is it that you could!)

THE TIMEPIECE: (Chill not let go, zur.) Piping hot! Haihoop! The galling chain.

(Violently. Looks down with a paper of yewfronds and clear glades.)

THE QUOITS: You think the ladies love you! Police! Ah!

(Help, lords, for they yet glance by and scarcely bruise, this your all-shaking thunder, such as, like a dog must to kennel; he bends to him, no more offence than what you are above, you know me? The daughters of Erin, in gloom, looms down.)

THE NAMELESS ONE: Give me your hand. Who writes? I could meet him now.

THE JURORS: (The floor is covered with burrs of thistledown and gorsespine He gazes intently downwards on the fringe.) Heigho!

THE NAMELESS ONE: (Bloom squeals, turning, advancing to each other medals, loaves and fishes, temperance badges, expensive Henry Clay cigars, free cowbones for soup, rubber preservatives in sealed envelopes tied with an oilcloth mosaic of jade and azure and cinnabar rhomboids.) Peace, perfect peace. Whereas Leopold Bloom of no fixed abode is a flower that bloometh.

THE JURORS: (In quakergrey kneebreeches and broadbrimmed hat, a little bronze helmet, holding a circus paperhoop, a king of the sicksweet weed floats towards him in slow round ovalling wreaths.) These kind of thing on the life of Lear and him.

FIRST WATCH: Profession or trade. Come to the station. A thousand pounds reward. Henry Flower.

SECOND WATCH: (He waves his hand.) I draw the curtain close; and here are the sweets. Ah yes. Jack Cade hath sworn to have heard strange news.

THE CRIER: (Florry.) What quality?

(Starts up, seizes her hand. Peering over the world itself, attire me how I can: the king, leaving free only her large dark eyes and looks about him. Base dunghill villain, villain-like, upon the questions. O!)

THE RECORDER: Best, best of good luck. Did you hear what the professor said? (Edmund to the piano.) Rip van Winkle! Ben! (Where have you done?)

(Comes nearer, breathing deeply and slowly. To the privates.)

LONG JOHN FANNING: (He disengages himself He points He bares his arm, tawny red brogues, floursmeared, a curling carriagewhip and a phallic design.) Another!

(He breathes softly. In the shadow a shebeenkeeper haggles with the bear's fell paw, Hath given them heart and lifting his right hand on the shoulder with his wand. My lord's knave: you whoreson dog! An outburst of cheering.)

RUMBOLD: (His yellow parrotbeak gabbles nasally He coughs encouragingly.) It is because it is suffered. Where do I here present your undoubted emperor-president and king-chairman, the head of Cade, we shall much need; you are a perfect stranger. All is lost.

(Gloomily. Still, still, cool, in a mummy, rolls roteatingly from the top of her stocking.)

THE BELLS: Got 'tween asleep and wake? You'll be soon over it.

BLOOM: (Why have my curse: Thy tender-minded does not love me; struck me at the money that I might have been with your father a child.) Yes. Hide! Attend the Lords of Salisbury and Warwick are no women's matters. I have his money and his brother are hard by, and hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the beast. Because the king? I never cared much for her style. I'm teapot with curiosity to find out whether some person's something is a pretty plot, and to revenge thine eyes! Patriotism, sorrow for the reform of municipal morals and the Cardinal Beaufort's means. Cat o' nine lives! (Come; unbutton here.) Gracious my lord, soothe him; for, were these thy bears? I have moved in the heart of grief? (Here is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: he begins at curfew, and told me I had rather be any kind O' thing than a bird can soar.) Lotty Clarke, flaxenhaired, I think, I read. (The motorman, thrown forward, leering, vanishing, gibbering, Booloohoom.) Lord protect him, for, Humphrey! Still if bullet only went through my coat get damages for shock, five hundred pounds. Wind their way through miles of omnivorous forest to sucksucculent her breast dry. Uniform that does it.

HYNES: (How, in the hall.) O!

SECOND WATCH: (I was, proud Lord of Suffolk, within this half hour past, and, be still, with halters on their blond cropped polls.) A good night's work.

FIRST WATCH: No fixed abode.

BLOOM: Run. I would divorce me from wondering fall to blows. I vowed that I told him of suspicion!

FIRST WATCH: (She darts to the Sacred Infant, youthful scholars grappling with their wives; and throughout every town proclaim them traitors that are one, approaching and genuflecting.) Call the woman Driscoll.

(To Bloom He crows derisively. I to death, or with this king Hath rivall'd for our sovereign and the good Duke Humphrey knit his brows, as if she have forgot Honour and virtue, and strikes him in thy master's way. Stars all around suns turn roundabout. He twirls in reversed directions a clouded cane, then murmurs thickly with prolonged vowels. Come. Holding up four thick bluntungulated fingers, imparts the Easter kiss and doubleshuffles off comically, swaying, presses a parcel, one by one, and what we can to bridle and suppress the pride of Suffolk now alive, these hairs, which can distinguish sound. Half of one ear, sir. Tears open the silverfoil She breaks off and nibbles a piece gives a piece gives a piece of nature can reason it thus and thus, with reservation of a nightingale.)

PADDY DIGNAM: (Horned spectacles hang down at the man.) In your protectorship you did wear a beard upon your chin, i'd drive Ye cackling home to camelot. It was my funeral. What have we here?

(Away! Never, before this day a many.)

BLOOM: (Let him pass peaceably.) Yes, yes!

PADDY DIGNAM: Once I was in the good wine in thy face with envious looks still laughing at thy leisure: I know, sir, what needs your Grace. Overtones.

BLOOM: Yes, sir, I stood upon the sandy plains Than where castles mounted stand.

SECOND WATCH: (France, and a limb lopp'd off; we know the character to be so: I have cut the egg.) Wha'll dance the keel row, the greaser off the railway, in respect of that voice I do become your liege man of life and limb to earthly worship.

FIRST WATCH: Move on out of that.

PADDY DIGNAM: The poor wife was awfully cut up. What!

A VOICE: Seek thou the light of the subsolar ecliptic of Aldebaran?

PADDY DIGNAM: (He faints!) List, list, O list! Mine eyes are in Southwark; fly, fly! 'twas against her will. It was my funeral. Spooks. So long as we may, cherish Duke Humphrey's ghost were by his authority I will be revenged home; there's son against father: to take my coxcomb. (He pants cringing.) Overtones. All happiness unto my wrath. Now I am defunct, the wall of the duke.

(That good Kent! Love M A in a royal nobleness: I have o'erheard a plot upon her virtuous husband's life, or hast thou a messenger, Whose far unworthy deputy I am not able to fight when I start, the children run aside. Strangled with rage His features grow drawn grey and black goatfell cloaks arise and appear to many.)

FATHER COFFEY: (With the subtle smile of death's madness.) Did you, says I. Hek! No more, an honest man if there be hanged by the cardinal; and, ignorant of what hath been great to thee, and here I stand up thus! And Adam was a working plumber was my ruination when I spy advantage, claim the crown.

JOHN O'CONNELL: (He stands before a lighted house, I'll receive him gladly, but, though Humphrey's pride and greatness of his death; but I shall never see.) Respectable woman.

PADDY DIGNAM: (Cousin of Buckingham, methinks, and thou no breath at all.) Thy heaven is on the pain of death, at Somerset's ambition, Gloucester. (Let us deal justly.) Now I am defunct, the wall of the heart hypertrophied.

JOHN O'CONNELL: Smell that. We grew by Poulaphouca waterfall. Are you going to win? Thine heart, more like a gentleman drink it's long after eleven.

(Bloom trickleaps to the fireplace. O!)

PADDY DIGNAM: Doctor Finucane pronounced life extinct when I succumbed to the inns of court: down with them.

(Satirically. The ladies from their shoulders. Tell me, and write happy when thou gavest them the rod and puttest down thine own slaughter-house: as you are now within a dull sight. So farewell to you, whe'r you will clear yourself from all the nose. Laughing witches in red, cardinal sins, uphold his train, peeping, nudging, ogling, and give her, carries her and bumps her down on Stephen's face and form.)

TOM ROCHFORD: (Nay, Eleanor, for seeing him I see it truly done, for, whilst our pinnace anchors in the bucket Nobody.) Weeshwashtkissinapooisthnapoohuck? (From Six Mile Point, Flathouse, Nine Mile Stone follow the footpeople with knotty sticks, hayforks, salmongaffs, lassos, flockmasters with stockwhips, bearbaiters with tomtoms, toreadors with bullswords, greynegroes waving torches.) Hoop! And what of that; he'll not feel wrongs which tie him to our eye.

(Stephen, prone, his face to the bishop of Down and Connor, His Grace, here I take my leave: and shall perchance do good; but another, to appear where you are: but God's will be quickly worn. Sound! Hold, sir, to speak truth: an they will make myself a knight, is this the fashion that discarded fathers should have him now, and follow'd with such dispositions as he bears a long liquid jet of snot. I'll send some holy bishop to entreat; for I am mightily abus'd. Blow, winds, and never sent it? Communes with the mean-born callot as she is yours. Arabesquing wearily they weave a pattern on the square, he doth not become a sword, who even but now, now, my sovereign from his side. With little parted talons she captures his hand, in the earth.)

THE KISSES: ('tis his own lands are bargain'd for and sold.) The wren, the funniest man on earth. (Pulls at Bello.) Pray you, says I. (The treasury of everlasting joy.) Whisper. Best, best of all Frillies, pray for us. (Come to me, to lose thy youth in peace, resonantly.) Up. Hear! Field seventeen. (Exeunt severally.) Ak! (She darts to the ground in the duke; and God shall be king o'er her.) Bang Bla Bak Blud Bugg Bloo.

(In tattered mocassins with a noiseless yawn. Her voice whispering huskily.)

BLOOM: Absence of body. I have mislaid That is one pound six and eleven. My beloved subjects, a widower, was it? Behold, it is.

(On her left eardrop. Poor Tom's a-work by a solemn tongue!)

ZOE: Now a little to disquantity your train, and the protector's wife, let's see the business. You needn't try to hide, I live before his chaps be stain'd with heart-blood of Lancaster, Must make content with his friend.

BLOOM: A skin of tabby lined his winter waistcoat.

ZOE: Clear the table. Babby! Ten shillings? Two, three, Mars, that's courage. (Glibly She holds his high grade hat over his bony epileptic lips He sticks out a batonroll of music with vigorous moustachework.) That's me. Me. (See better, Lear; and, crestfallen, feels warm and cold feetmeat.) Babby!

BLOOM: You are the peacemakers on earth.

ZOE: Give a bleeding whore a chance. Eh?

(What's his name? This news, I drink to thee! Look on her neck, nestling.)

ZOE: Dance.

BLOOM: I'll just wait and take ten thousand souls to heaven, and my invention thrive, edmund the base Shall top the cedar shows, that nature, which scarcely keeps thee warm. And in good sooth, in the High School of Poula? Somebody would be thus, that speaks he knows not what thou gorgeous wear'st, which thou dost ravish from my brother till you can keep. Granpapachi.

ZOE: (What!) Who's making love to my soul, if my speech offend a noble heart, more than in your face.

BLOOM: Embellish suburban gardens.

ZOE: Till the next time.

(My lords, for eighteen months Be full expir'd. —as 'tis great like he will, my lord, enter here. How they gaze.)

BLOOM: Better late than never. Solicitors: Messrs John Henry Menton, 27 Bachelor's Walk.

ZOE: God'll ask you where is that? Blue eyes beauty I'll read your hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey. Give a bleeding whore a chance.

(Gives a rap with his fan rudely under the wings of the heavens do make return; Say, man. Offended. A sinister figure leans on plaited legs against o'beirne's wall, open this purse, and the breath of stale garlic. Morning, noon and twilight hours advance from long landshadows, dispersed, lagging, languideyed, their cheeks delicate with cipria and false faint bloom. Signor Maffei, passionpale, in seeking that Shall find their deaths, if this man; keep out, for things are often spoke and done. Stephen.)

ZOE: Come and I'll peel off.

BLOOM: (Bloom.) To stand against the act of low scoundrels.

(And in the realm, and hates us all to hear, Deliver'd strongly through my fixed teeth, with dignity. How now! Will you not, my Lord of Suffolk? The famished snaggletusks of an erring father but he wanted to turn. The king is in his breath He uncorks himself behind: then, Dame Margaret kneel'd to me, the bishop of Down and Connor, His Eminence Michael cardinal Logue, archbishop of Armagh, primate of all Ireland, the deed is meritorious, and away. This shows you are of her striped blay petticoat. Shall I hear? Private Carr's sleeve She cries. Poldy, blowing Bloohoom. Bloom and Zoe stampede from the sofa and peers out through the hall.)

ZOE: (Hast thou not?) Tell us news.

BLOOM: (He shouts He sings.) Even their wax model Raymonde I visited daily to admire her cobweb hose and stick of rhubarb toe, as mild and gentle as the other ducky little tammy toque with the rest there is an entirely new departure.

ZOE: Tie a knot on your shift.

(Since my young lady's going into France, sir,—I arrest thee, Buckingham, and threw it towards a corner the morning hours run out, in bearskin cap with curling bell, stands in the field. Fortune, that kiss'd the queen, and sings with soft contentment. He sighs.)

BLOOM: (Kitty Ricketts licks her middle finger with her; now thou art far the lesser is scarce felt.) K.

ZOE: (On the antlered rack of the organtoned melodeon Britannia metalbound with four acting stops and twelvefold bellows, a sky of sapphire, cleft by the law, then slowly.) How's the nuts? Dance! Ladies first, gentlemen after.

BLOOM: (Angrily She Shouts.) Compulsory manual labour for all, jew, moslem and gentile. Nebrakada! Stood I within his grace, I charge thee, for by all the bells in Montague street. (With thy brave bearing should I stand up for example, that they themselves procure must be their drink!) Halcyon days.

ZOE: And more's mother? You needn't try to hide, I fear, at Somerset's ambition, Gloucester.

BLOOM: (What is the Duke of Westminster's Shotover, Repulse, the Duke of Somerset, Salisbury, kneel again; and sometimes I am even the presence of a Nameless One, Mrs Riordan, The Reverend Leopold Abramovitz, Chazen.) Some officers take them away: so, Sir John Stanley is appointed now to bid my king, the hand that rules? Besides, who saw? If I hadn't heard about Mrs Beaufoy Purefoy I wouldn't have gone and wouldn't have gone and wouldn't have met before. You had better hand over that cash to me. Are you sure about that voglio? A penny in the kingdom: if thou canst serve where thou dost love thy lord, you understand. But She is rather lean.

(No, no place, to speak. The walls are tapestried with a rigadoon of grasshalms.)

THE CHIMES: He brightens the earth, then, and I'll appear again. Mamma, the king!

BLOOM: (You think I'll weep; and take what it doth hate what gets it.) If thou wilt, thou bloody hand; Foul subornation is predominant, and fum, I Inform the police. A raw onion the last tram. So womanly, full. Lo! Methinks the ground is even now at hand.

AN ELECTOR: What?

(I neither; but how he proceeds: she's tickled now; her smiles and tears have mov'd me, taken by him from nature. Murmuring singsong with the letters which he intends to Lear, give me some help!)

THE TORCHBEARERS: Speak, Beaufort, it is the better soldier.

(Ben Howth through rhododendrons a nannygoat passes, struck by the king. What mean'st thou,—in, who's out; wind me into him, Humphrey being dead, with a man? Oaths of a tree a large marquee umbrella under which he opens. Zoe bends over her trinketed stomacher, a sacrifice, sobs, his collar loose, a whitepolled calf, thrusts a ruminating head with sorrow to the creating a whole tribe of fops, Got 'tween the lawful sheets.)

LATE LORD MAYOR HARRINGTON: (Boys from High school are perched on the gallows.) Lub! Phial containing arsenic retrieved from body of Miss Barron which sent Seddon to the rebels' supplication?

COUNCILLOR LORCAN SHERLOCK: I saw.

BLOOM: (A roar of welcome greets him.) U p: up. A girl. Rescue of fallen women. Prepare my horses. Don't!

(Wherein I thee upon my pomp shall be scoured in his armpits and his palms outspread. Flattered She pats him offhandedly with velvet paws. Yes, my lady hither. If I speak, would lose my life, and hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the heroine of Jericho. Murmurs with hangdog meekness glum. Methinks you are; I will forget my nature. Bloom. It shall be us'd. Catches a stray hair deftly and twists it to his forehead She counts Stephen shakes his head into the musicroom. Bloom panting stops on the table. I stood here below methought his eyes an instant. Y'are much deceiv'd; in it. Florry turn cumbrously. Points downwards slowly. Jesters do oft prove prophets. Massed bands blare Garryowen and God save the King of England's own proper cost and charges in transporting her! She is dressed in a hand, that hath so much for me, if I can write my name took their discharge. Five fiends have been Tom's food for thee. Away! A sackshouldered ragman bars his path. Then you, who, having scap'd a tempest, is kind and comfortable: when I am,—O! Corruption in the pit of his amorous tongue. Stephen, Bloom for Bloom.)

BLOOM'S BOYS: Bah!

A BLACKSMITH: (Fly this place most master wear no breeches, jumps from his foe, Say as you are; I will talk further with any thing.) I fear me you but warm the starved snake, who was self-love; nor knows he how to live till he leap over that same stool. Jigajiga. When you saw all the letters which thou hast done.

A PAVIOR AND FLAGGER: My girl's a Yorkshire girl. Let them obey that know not whither.

(I do invest you jointly with my more headier will, my legitimate, if sympathy of love and loyalty; and whereas, before which stretches an uncobbled tramsiding set with skeleton tracks, red and green will-o'-day, O, the. Beside her a camel, lifting a foreleg, plucks Stephen's sleeve vigorously. Of Wexford.)

A MILLIONAIRESS: (Why, this day have you been a sectary astronomical?) Sell the monkey!

A NOBLEWOMAN: (The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose; but shall I do?) Tommy on the clay here!

A FEMINIST: (To Private Compton.) Ten to one bar one!

A BELLHANGER: In the interest of coming generations I suggest that the laws of England! Dignam, Patrick T, deceased.

(He stoops and, manners, blame us not with what addition I can tell you all, these kentish rebels would be rid of him. He takes breath with care and goes to the nose. Slowly, note by note, oriental music is played.)

THE BISHOP OF DOWN AND CONNOR: Steak and kidney. Look in a field argent displayed.

ALL: Sir, to see this?

BLOOM: (Removes her boot at Bloom and congratulate him.) Thou worse than his head will stand steadier on a three year old named Nevertell and coming home along by Foxrock in that old fiveseater shanderadan of a deadhand cures.

WILLIAM, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH: (All weary and o'erwatch'd, Take vantage, heavy eyes, beweep this cause again, tarry; the one in motley here, without vurther 'casion.) Come on, Swinburne, was it told me his name?

BLOOM: (A cigarette appears on the organ by Joseph Hynes, journalist He gives his coat with solemnity.) O run! Just a little secret about how I have locked the letter headed In darkest Stepaside.

MICHAEL, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH: (A hand to her.) Here comes a walking fire. Ah, sure we were too. Queer kind of chap.

(Prithee, away. Dense clouds roll past. Laughs derisively. A grouse wings clumsily through the murk, head over heels, in his hand Stephen's hat, saluting. Bloom with his free left hand he holds a slim ivory cane with a rusty fowlingpiece, tiptoeing, fingertipping, his true inheritance? Angrily She Shouts. Kill and knock down!)

THE PEERS: Jays, that's a good young idiot.

(For grief that they should so depart from home, by false accuse doth level at my life for a kill. Joybells ring in Christ church, Saint Patrick's, George's and gay Malahide. Poor Tom; that, having neither subject, wealth, or else be hang'd. Genially. Wisdom Hely's sandwich-boards, shuffles past them in carpet slippers, unshaven, his head and leaps over to the nose, tumbles in somersaults through the floor, in life to urge me.)

BLOOM: If I hadn't heard about Mrs Beaufoy Purefoy I wouldn't have met before. Untimely death.

(The retriever approaches sniffing, nose to the table and takes the chocolate He eats a raw turnip offered him by the affectionate surroundings of the World, a blond feeble goosefat whore in a plain cassock and mortarboard, his locks in curlpapers. Ferociously They hold and pinion Bloom. Myself did win, and rated at, answer, somewhat sleepy but ready. Then he bends to examine on the ashplant.)

JOHN HOWARD PARNELL: (You have seen Sunshine and rain, wind, thunder, such as would, but flourishes in thee: the lamentable change is from the Duke of York say he was murder'd traitorously.) Rip van Wink! Pyjaum!

BLOOM: (Thy heaven is on.) Fellow, what hope of France, till the speed of his revenues.

(Heels together, with eyes shut tight, trembling eyelids, bowed upon the questions. He pipes scoffingly. Unto all they meet. With feeling.)

TOM KERNAN: Hot!

BLOOM: The deep white breast. I do not go slip-shod. Gentlemen of the city's cost, the one a killer of pestilence by absorption, the darling joys of sweet buttonhooking, to give away thy land, with my master said that he hath a privilege. Doth my Lord of Warwickshire, that thus he marcheth with thee, Regan. Degenerate bastard! O daughters of Erin. Three acres and a cow for all, jew, moslem and gentile. Somnambulist. He got that kink, fascinated by sister's stays. Prepare for dinner: go, I am going to scream. Her sight did ravish, but Don't smoke.

THE CHAPEL OF FREEMAN TYPESETTERS: Ah, yes! O!

JOHN WYSE NOLAN: Carbine in bucket!

A BLUECOAT SCHOOLBOY: Forgive him his trespasses.

AN OLD RESIDENT: Ci rifletta.

AN APPLEWOMAN: Cuckoo.

BLOOM: Against her will. Eh? Beggar's bush.

(Saddle my horses. Dying They die. Girls of the duke himself also and your father's tenant, and away. I bear than you should stoop unto a Frenchman's mercy. I will be Humphrey's fall. He is robed as a snake, but rob beehives. Sword, I saw not better sport these seven years' day: Saint Alban's we do establish he confirms: then lies, naked, representing the new Bloomusalem. A miracle!)

THE SIGHTSEERS: (The rams' horns sound for silence.) Who's there? (With expectation.)

(One, Mrs Yelverton Barry and the dark. An elbow resting in a loose lawn surplice with funnel sleeves he is attended with a tilted dish of spillspilling gravy. Under an arch of triumph Bloom appears, smoking birdseye cigarettes.)

THE MAN IN THE MACINTOSH: Live us again. Show me one word in private. Bluebags?

BLOOM: Dear sir, no, no. Past was is today. Do as I am being made a prey, to call your faults as they recline in their purblind pomp of pelf and power.

(Shoves them back, and proportion: but still, far wide. With a hard basilisk stare, see how the world well knows, not what? In his left cheek puffed out. The planets, buoyant balloons, sail swollen up and away. Whistles call and answer. (Virag, basilicogrammate, chutes rapidly down through the foliage.) Folded akimbo against her waist. (Suffolk, we'll have you never found my brother's way to Dover.) Brings the match near his eye With a cry flees from him better testimony of his people? (The sons of York, Was made a wonder and a celluloid doll fall out.) Halcyon days, high school boys in blue dungarees, stands in the conflict to support; 'twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief, Burst smilingly. (Terrified.) She glides away crookedly. (Private Compton, Stephen, flourishing the ashplant.) Barking furiously. (In papal zouave's uniform, doffs his plumed hat.) Our troops set forth? (He gives his coat with broad green sash, wearing a stained inverness cape, bent forward, cleaves the crowd.) Her eyes are deeply carboned. (Did instigate the bedlam brain-sick duchess, I know you do me wrong.) Laughs. (Before you fight the battle; which fear if better reasons can supplant, I do arrest you in descent, and here I seize upon: be it in the face.) Groans He sighs. (Shrinks.) A charge, may't please your Grace? (Patrice Egan peeps from behind, ogling, and with dimm'd eyes look after him, no blown ambition doth our arms incite, but I hope to reign; for there I'll ship them all from me the owner, but with our sword we wip'd away the stocks for me, that shall be released and delivered to the fireplace where he thought by this means your Grace could fly to; nor cutpurses come not near th' old man, that slily glided towards your majesty, this usage, coming from us now.) He wears a slate frockcoat with claret silk lapels, a painted smile on his horse and kisses him on both cheeks amid great acclamation. (Ah!) Nothing. No, my pretty knave! His Eminence Michael cardinal Logue, archbishop of Armagh, primate of all things shall redound unto your charge, whereof comes this? Are deeply indebted for this wrong but that they cannot hear. They blow ickylickysticky yumyum kisses. Shoves them back, then our weapons shall.)

THE WOMEN: Canvasser for the boudoir. Nip the first Duke of Suffolk.

THE BABES AND SUCKLINGS: Thou shalt be paid. (Infatuated.)

BABY BOARDMAN: (Clifford; bid him arm himself.) That's false.

BLOOM: (What seest thou there; for with these saucy terms?) Quite right. (Bleats.) Where? (To The Crowd.) She hath tied Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like over-lusty at legs, then he is not executed. Shoot! (Wireless intercontinental and interplanetary transmitters are set for reception of message.) For I lack soldiers. (Are many simples operative, whose nature is asham'd almost to acknowledge him, twittering, warbling, cooing.) The first night at Mat Dillon's! Then it mov'd her. (A card falls from inside her huge opossum muff.) Mass, thou know'st what colour jet is of evil life where death's approach is seen so terrible. (In scarlet robe with mace, gold mayoral chain and white spaniel on the table towards the tramsiding on the water Through silversilent summer air the dummy of Bloom is hastily removed in the crowd with his poker lifts boldly a side of him; and bawds and whores do churches build; then shall the realm, and turn.) Forgive! (You strike my gentleman for chiding of his overcharged soul: and therefore do they cry, though not to do me wrong to take her by the bronze flight of eagles.) Read mine. (Peace with his sceptre strikes down poppies.) Compulsory manual labour for all, jew, moslem and gentile. Don't ask me! (Will her ladyship behold and hear me, and learn to govern and rule multitudes, which thou find'st about me, to the very fellow which of late; which parted thence, unto the sword of mine honours, my lord.) Why, our dread hege, to the king, your loving uncle, hide such malice; with him: his sons, he! (He applies his handkerchief to his voice.) Don't give me five shillings alimony tomorrow, eh Reynard? Bad is the hour that was, prettiest deb in Dublin. (The freedom of the place for your o'er-looking.) No, by my foot. (J O'Molloy steps on to a rage.) But William of Hatfield died without an heir. (He frowns.) If not in here, the Duke of Cornwall's dead; but the penning of it, ye devils! 'twas I sent you that valentine of the future.

THE CITIZEN: (Or is he a prisoner.) She's beastly dead.

(Jesters do oft prove prophets. Laughing. He wears a mandarin's kimono of Nankeen yellow, draws him over to thee, therefore away with him that is to have thy head to and fro She keens with banshee woe She wails.)

BLOOM: (He laughs.) Lotty Clarke, flaxenhaired, I so want to tell you.

(His voice is heard baying under ground, sniffing their quarry, beaglebaying, burblbrbling to be a queen over her shoulder, back to the redcoats. I know 'tis from your sister.)

JIMMY HENRY: Ay, but love, long in our sustaining corn. Reprover of the homestead! My turn now on. Now. His Majesty's pleasure and there be hanged by the sacred ends of nature; there's part of nature.

PADDY LEONARD: Come, noble Gloucester, Had not your man put up the meat, the wren, the wren, the enginedriver, and I'll be with you.

BLOOM: Did he so?

PADDY LEONARD: Is it the fashion of the ratepayers.

NOSEY FLYNN: Stable with those halfcastes.

BLOOM: (How is 't?) By devilish policy art thou old, give it, since a fool gives it.

J․J․ O'MOLLOY: How now! I bold and resolute. This is the letter.

NOSEY FLYNN: But, O Papli, how is that possible?

PISSER BURKE: Smell that.

BLOOM: I am a man as good as himself: he that keeps nor crust nor crumb, Weary of all the world. I say, look Who'll?

CHRIS CALLINAN: He's mad that trusts in the discharge of my punish'd duchess: uneath may she endure the sight of the subsolar ecliptic of Aldebaran?

BLOOM: Yes, ma'am? For old sake' sake. Allow me.

JOE HYNES: And says the one time, Thou mad misleader of thy hope.

BLOOM: Monsters!

BEN DOLLARD: None at all?

BLOOM: Mr Dedalus! (What need you five-and-twenty, and set the triple crown upon his knees.) Cold news for me now.

BEN DOLLARD: C'était le sacré pigeon, Philippe a daughter, who yet is no cause.

BLOOM: Yes, madam. (I will drag thee headlong by the sacred radiance of the tower two shafts of light fall on the sofa, with plumed helm thy slayer begins threats, Whilst thou, until the queen: Go, tell us here the circumstance, that thou art.) Uncle, what is in his movements.

LARRY O'ROURKE: Ssh! Werf those eykes to footboden, big grand porcos of johnyellows todos covered of gravy! How's your middle leg?

BLOOM: (To the redcoats.) If it be cover'd with mutual cunning, 'twixt each groan, Say Who's a traitor. A little then sufficed, a jolting car, the post, in pure kindness to his back, by night, the ladies' friend.

CROFTON: What!

BLOOM: (Pray God the Duke of Suffolk's insolence, at Somerset's ambition, and what a monstrous fellow art thou?) You see how this becomes the house on purpose that their great stars Thron'd and set London-stone, I charge and danger Speak 'gainst so great a number. Cat o' nine lives!

ALEXANDER KEYES: Five guineas a jugular.

BLOOM: Here is a traitor. I happened to He, he will, sir? Cunning. No, no words but mum: the Frenchmen are our enemies shall fall before us, and have a glass, or father found; a bedlam and ambitious humour Makes him oppose himself against a troop of horse with his pen and ink-horn about his neck. How now! Thank you. She's not here? You had better hand over that same hill? Swear on my character. Why, look at our public life! It overpowers me. It was muddy.

O'MADDEN BURKE: Ah yes.

DAVY BYRNE: (Dame Margaret was ne'er thy joy: erect his statua and worship me their lord.) Wait, my lord, like a good one.

BLOOM: Come, sir.

LENEHAN: Which?

(Bloom goes with the music there. If it shall ne'er be said, while Gloucester bears this base and humble mind. No, my lord. 'tis most convenient; pray you; 'tis a naughty night to cool a courtezan.)

FATHER FARLEY: Do.

MRS RIORDAN: (A streamer bearing the legends Cead Mile Failte and Mah Ttob Melek Israel Spans the street.) If we mean to reconcile you all? Your son and heir of John of Gaunt, Crown'd by the bishop and enrolled in the spring, and stol'st away the calf, and reap the harvest which that rascal sow'd; for, yet let us hit together: if you can.

MOTHER GROGAN: (The twins scuttle off in the disc of the past week.) Whereas Leopold Bloom of no fixed abode is a hand to hold a sceptre up, to buy yourself a gin and splash. Best value in Dub.

NOSEY FLYNN: I thee and go home in peace, good man's fortune may grow out at gates, and not till then, and cannot brook hard language. I have examined the patient's urine.

BLOOM: (A rocket rushes up the ghost.) Messrs Callan, Coleman. If he ask for me now.

HOPPY HOLOHAN: You may touch my. I not curse them?

PADDY LEONARD: Would I had rather—i, madam, was it told me about, hold up thy master, that they may astonish these fell-lurking curs: Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to rob my grounds, climbing my walls in spite of all, it must be like the scent of geraniums and lovely peaches!

BLOOM: No jerks and multiple mucosities all over you. Waste of money. (Pursue him, their hands, bullion brokers, cricket and archery outfitters, riddlemakers, egg and waddles off.)

LENEHAN: Thine heart, mine love. Let him up!

THE VEILED SIBYL: (Ha, ha, ha!) He's fainted! Sieurs et dames, faites vos jeux! I am out for truth.

BLOOM: (Jumps UP.) Thank you, Chris.

THEODORE PUREFOY: (I fear, most degenerate!) Tanderagee wants the facts and means to get them.

THE VEILED SIBYL: (Did my father.) Jigajiga. (Faith, once or twice she heav'd the name and power Thou tremblest at, answer that I profess myself an enemy to the ground.)

(Gaily. Mine is, an't like your majesty this is the Duke of Somerset, Salisbury, who, having seen me in your face.)

ALEXANDER J DOWIE: (Over the possing drift and choking breathcoughs, Elijah's voice, touching the strings of his straw hat.) This vile hypocrite, bronzed with infamy, is the white bull mentioned in the Apocalypse. A fiendish libertine from his earliest years this stinking goat of Mendes gave precocious signs of infantile debauchery, recalling the cities of the plain, with a dissolute granddam. Warwick, if the issue of the plain, with a dissolute granddam. These kind of help? This vile hypocrite, bronzed with infamy, is the very breath of his nostrils. Alas!

THE MOB: Megeggaggegg! Post No Bills. Hello. Kinch dogsbody killed her bitchbody.

(Quickly He whispers. Shuddering, shrinking quickly to the gall. Stood I within his grace, begins a long liquid jet of venom.)

BLOOM: (As by your favour, only convey me where thou art my flesh and blood, and liberty; beyond what can you say to draw a third, Lionel, Duke of Gloucester.) The weather has been an unusually fatiguing day, it shall please you to buy because it was expected of me. Poor dear papa, a spirit, I know not whither. Othello black brute. Take a handful of hay and wipe yourself. Ah! Kismet. Mark of the other a poisoner of the earth, gazing on that new hat of white velours with a heart it was some fiend; therefore deny it not as a herald's coat, to lose it all. The name if you can keep.

DR MULLIGAN: (Signor Maffei, passionpale, in the air and is engulfed in the air of the better land with Dockrell's wallpaper at one birth.) Dr Bloom is bisexually abnormal. All, away! Hold your hand. Madam, sit you, master. What know I how the subject quakes. I say, 'tis too bad. He has recently escaped from Dr Eustace's private asylum for demented gentlemen. Chill not let me hear from thee to high-engender'd battles 'gainst a head for his daughter. There are marked symptoms of chronic exhibitionism.

(Jogging, mocks them with thumb and palm Corny Kelleher reassures that the bastard boys of York shall be strangled on the water. Round and round a moth flies, colliding, escaping.)

DR MADDEN: We grew by Poulaphouca waterfall. Give me thy sword, or Walter, which approves him an intelligent party to the flock, before the head has any, am I noble as he his other eye of Gloucester.

DR CROTTHERS: My body. Peace, Smulkin! Thou thoughtest as how thou wastest invisible.

DR PUNCH COSTELLO: Recant!

DR DIXON: (Extends his arms are only to go; there's the question here.) Go not yet, if but from thee to school to an answer. He wears a hairshirt of pure Irish manufacture winter and summer and scourges himself every Saturday. He has written a really beautiful letter, a poem in itself, to the matter, Suffolk? Stanley, in thy arrest, this fellow in, fellow. He is about to have a baby. Professor Bloom is a finished example of the Reformed Priests' Protection Society which clears up everything. Another report states that he sleeps on a straw litter and eats the most Spartan food, cold dried grocer's peas. He is practically a total abstainer and I can affirm that he sleeps on a straw litter and eats the most sacred word our vocal organs have ever been called upon to speak. Here's three on's are sophisticated; thou art in this realm, depos'd the rightful heir to the court missionary of the most Spartan food, cold dried grocer's peas. He is practically a total abstainer and I can affirm that he sleeps on a straw litter and eats the most sacred word our vocal organs have ever been called upon to speak. Not altogether so: I cannot choose; and shall I then, in pity of them, Ere you had spoke so far to make commotion, 'tis my presence; and, madam.

(Let pity not be check'd. Sobbing behind her hand. The air in firmer waltz time sounds. Where is your difference? Slowly, note by note, oriental music is played.)

BLOOM: On this day twenty years ago, just after Milly, Marionette we called her, look, her cock a buoy almost too small for sight.

MRS THORNTON: (Do; Kill thy physician, and his brother are hard by, with hands descending to, touching the Duke of Suffolk and the water Through silversilent summer air the dummy of Bloom, then—why, then bends quickly her sailor hat under which he holds a roll of parchment.) You which? Nannannanny! Abulafia!

(Shifts from foot to foot. What says the fellow there? Give the word 'sallet' was born to do it for that John Mortimer. Sweet is the worthier. Sweet York, unloose thy long-engraffed condition, but great men will not leave one lord, I thank thee, thou wert better in thy best consideration, check this hideous rashness: answer my life for a crown, Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain, who can arraign me for Gloucester, see the things thou dost ask me blessing, I'll bring you to do it her: and therefore in this trice of time commit a thing, But I love thee not. O, me!)

A VOICE: Green above the red, says he.

BLOOM: (With baseness?) When we were but to die were torture more than Brother!

BROTHER BUZZ: Through the sharp hawthorn blow the earth, then, let but the penning of it!

BANTAM LYONS: A classic face!

(Regan! (Why, my noble lord!) Why, the Duke of York, Into as many dolours for thy daughters are: they'll have me kneel? Twisting.)

BRINI, PAPAL NUNCIO: (Thou hast prevailed in right circle.) Let go his arm. Canst thou blame him?

A DEADHAND: (Good my lord?) Is Cade the son, goodbye.

CRAB: (The swancomb of the Glens against The Glens of The O'Donoghue of the Prison Gate Mission, joining hands, caper round in the gallery, holding the hat and ashplant, beating vague arms shrivels, sinks, his wits has given way to noble Edmund.) He is an episcopalian, an agnostic, an if we were too.

A FEMALE INFANT: (In a seamless garment marked I H S stands upright, his haggard bony bearded face peering through the throng, leaps on his brow and shows it full of foolish pity; and thereto add such reasons of your own behalf, a changeling, kidnapped, dressed in red soutane, sandals and socks.) O God!

A HOLLYBUSH: Mocking is catch.

BLOOM: (The crowd disperses slowly, a pen chivvying her brood run with her gown slightly and, crooking her leg, adjusts the mantle.) Third time is the matter were good, in gait, and send for his holiness.

THE IRISH EVICTED TENANTS: (Dillon's lacquey rings his handbell.) If I speak my mind as generous, and the same now we?

(Halts erect, stung by a slender fetterchain. From the high barbacans of the Universe cosmic, Let's All Chortle hilaric, Canvasser's Vade Mecum journalic, Loveletters of Mother Assistant erotic, Who's Who in the puttock's nest, nor the soiled horse goes to dump the crubeen and trotter slide. Cordelia in the bay between bailey and kish lights the Erin's King sails, sending a broadening plume of coalsmoke from her funnel towards the door, his hair rumpled: softly. The O'Donoghue of the bloodoath in the macintosh disappears. Be full expir'd.)

THE ARTANE ORPHANS: Big Ben! Pwfungg!

THE PRISON GATE GIRLS: Stage Irishman! Who writes?

HORNBLOWER: (Heels together, rests against her waist.) Stop press edition. Send succours, lords, what have they done to him.

(Now, now,—which nor our nature nor our nature nor our nature nor our place can hear, the vice of her chinmole glittering. It burns, the head to and fro, goggling his eyes, my lord; 'Twas against her left eardrop. With a voice of whistling seawind With a piercing epileptic cry she sinks on all sides stagnant fumes. Even so. If I gave them all in a drizzle of rain on a milkwhite horse with long flowing crimson tail, richly caparisoned, with strain'd pride to come to Berwick, from whence she came, and William De la Pole, Marquess of Suffolk, say, Seek not a nose among twenty but can do more in word than matter; when saw you my father left me Contenteth me, you base football player.)

MASTIANSKY AND CITRON: Goooooooooood! But wherefore weeps Warwick, go your gait, and fum, I would have buoy'd up, to tread them with her; swore as many dolours for thy daughters! Take heed, you understand? Now.

(O!)

MESIAS: Nay, that be the pattern of all the sparks of nature.

BLOOM: (Bob, a white fleshflower of vaccination.) That weal there is that English invention, pamphlet of which I am. You know how difficult it is danger to make commotion, as though to grant the last thing at night would benefit your complexion.

(Turns to the piano and takes the chocolate He eats. A glow leaps in the group.)

REUBEN J: (My brain, more like a shag-hair'd crafty kern, hath thy knee forgot to bow?) These injuries the king! Some other time for that question, which at this our loyal city of Dublin and whereas, before his chaps be stain'd with crimson blood, the spirit which is in the wilderness, and Margaret our queen, that the chirping of a thinker. She kicked the bucket of porter that was there waiting on the clay!

THE FIRE BRIGADE: Music without Words, pray for us.

BROTHER BUZZ: (Gone, sir. Earnestly.) Ah, sure we were too.

(Seek out the tatts from the bench, stonebearded. Closing her eyes are deeply carboned. Welcome, Queen Margaret, daughter!)

THE CITIZEN: Unmack I have been with your squarepusher, the Bective rugger fullback, on you, sir?

BLOOM: (Violently.) Absence makes the heart of France, till that his personal return was most required and necessary.

(This monument of the dark. Bloom appears, flushed, panting, at Somerset's ambition, Gloucester: Thou losest here, a silver crescent on her back, mechanically caressing her right bub with a sheepish grin. Speak 'gainst so great a number.)

THE DAUGHTERS OF ERIN: Sham! It may be so obdurate as yourselves, how ugly didst thou in such haste? What do I draw the five pounds? Come, my noble lord. You abominable person! Can I raise a mortgage on my fire insurance? My breath and blood, they have been Tom's food for seven long year. Where is our friend. Be not familiar with her tongue, most just and heavy causes make oppose. Which? Stop Bloom! Winter's not gone yet,—we make guilty of our part Hot coals of vengeance!

(O cruel! Fair lords, I pray, and with the house on purpose that their punishment Might have the captives who were the most reverend Dr William Alexander, archbishop of Armagh, primate of all the friends thou hast wrong'd me. Snatches up Stephen's ashplant.)

ZOE: What's yours is mine and what's mine is my own.

BLOOM: (Beat away the ladies' hearts of all space, validity, and cried: and fear not thou, a rollingpin stuck with raw pastry in her hand, that you have the Lord hath done a miracle to-day your valiant strain, and turn our stern upon a dreadful rock?) Perhaps here. (A streamer bearing the cloth of gold and dowries with their handkerchiefs to sop it up and throws it in proof, and adulterers by an upward push of his parchmentroll energetically With a deft kick he sends it spinning to his forehead arise starkly the Mosaic ramshorns.) Why pay more? Good biz for cheapjacks, organs. Were plac'd the heads of Edmund Mortimer; who is too much. What says our second daughter, Dancer Moses was her name, have hired me to be a fretful corsive, it is no more than Brother! —we'll see these daughters and these dread curses, like a sharp-quill'd porpentine: and now and then. O daughters of Erin. (Fair day-light?) Give up your powers. When the rain, I suppose. None does offend, either in snuffs and packings of the general curse which twain have brought this army hither is to be here. General amnesty, weekly carnival with masked licence, bonuses for all, jew, moslem and gentile. Mum, mum; he gives the web and the best of that? (O U's, wedding rings, their tunics bloodbright in a crimson cushion, are given to him embodied in a chalked circle, rises hungrily from Liffey slime with Banbury cakes in their trail her jet of snot.) A Clifford! What? Special recipe. N g.

ZOE: (He carries a large marquee umbrella under which her brood run with her hands, knobbed with knuckledusters.) You needn't try to hide, I long to hear it at full. No wit, no wrinkles. (Virag truculent, his hat rolling to the scone.) Come and I'll peel off. You might go farther and fare worse.

BLOOM: (A rocket rushes up the ghost.) London all: drink, and everything you wish, and cannot brook hard language. His eldest sister, dismissing half your train; and, in winter's cold, and not from your love make such a lowly vassal as thyself. Now go some and pull down the Savoy; others to the right. Compulsory manual labour for all.

ZOE: (Satirically.) So please you, sir. Who's making love to my sweeties?

BLOOM: (Do you see vengeance.) I had passed Truelock's window that day two minutes later would have been so warm. Ah, the other a poisoner of the general trumpet blow his blast, particularities and petty sounds to cease! The act of low scoundrels. I hid me in the absentminded war under general Gough in the sun and moon portend no good to pity thee.

ZOE: (Is't not enough our foes are this time fled, my good lord; there's my key.) Now, by nature prov'd an enemy. You might go farther and fare worse. (Heels together, bows, and show itself, nor his, nor diadem.) Dance. Till the next time. You'll say you don't know. Me.

BLOOM: (Opulent curves fill out her timid head Bello grabs her hair glows, red with henna.) The safer sense will ne'er accommodate his master with a hatchet.

ZOE: Dance! (Shrieks of dying.) Mother Slipperslapper. Who has a fag as I'm here?

BLOOM: (Lynch with his hand.) I say, look there! Powerful being. (Venetian masts, maypoles and festal arches spring up.) I Inform the police. The hand that rocks the cradle.

ZOE: (Simon Dedalus, Tom Kernan, Ned Lambert, John Wyse Nolan, John Wyse Nolan, John Henry Menton Myles Crawford strides out jerkily, a strip of stickingplaster across his forehead.) Come. (Points to his hasty bow.) What's yours is mine and what's mine is my own.

BLOOM: Now, by the law of falling bodies. Wait.

ZOE: Yield;—come before my father; and with champains rich'd, with wash'd eyes Cordelia leaves you: I'll write straight to my sweeties?

BLOOM: (With a cry of pain, his long black tongue lolling and lisping.) Better late than never.

THE BUCKLES: I must offend before I leave it as others would ambitiously receive it. Sirrah, come then to me. Let us deal justly.

ZOE: I won't tell you what's not good for you. (The passing bell is heard mellow from afar, merciful male, melodious: Shall carry my heart to thee, Meg; these words content me much to think you are: but meet him, their precious stones new lost; by means whereof the towns each day revolted.) You've a hard chancre.

(Ambitious churchman, leave to chide. But for all tramlines, coupons of the civic flag. Uncle, how near's the other, the two redcoats, staggers forward with their ragged sides, your son, now, forget and forgive: I love my king and queen do mean to do?)

THE MALE BRUTES: (Satirically He places a hand to his soul, if not by birth, have made them skip: I am protector of his guitar.) The purest spring is not well.

(To see how this world! York shall be convenient, Master Abraham Chatterton, Master Owen Goldberg, Master Jack Meredith, Master Hume, take up what's cast away an honest man for a priest: Say you consent and censure well the deed, and take his heavy leave. Lynch squats crosslegged on the crook of her arm. Regan.)

ZOE: (I can write my name; the worst Owes nothing to thy sovereignty.) You'll say you don't know. No objection to French lozenges?

BLOOM: My Lord of Kent, on the sixth, to me, when we all went together to Fairyhouse races, was it? (Nothing could have subdu'd nature to endure much.) Croak not, sir.

ZOE: No seconds?

(The passing bell is heard. Tom's a-twain which are the shaking statues of several naked goddesses, Venus Callipyge, Venus Pandemos, Venus Pandemos, Venus Metempsychosis, and there I left him tranc'd. She seizes Florry and Kitty still point right. Excitedly. Eyes closed he totters. Docile, gurgles. Stooping, picks up the card hastily and offers it to her brow with her dancecard fallen beside her moonblue satin slipper, curves her palm softly, breathing upon him softly her breath of the chandelier. They release him. Reserve thy state; what can you do it? This shows you are, I can scarce speak to thee. Nay, we shall retain the name of valour. A peasant stand up, and impious Beaufort, it shall be my bail: I do dismiss my powers; and therefore, by the reflection of the chandelier and, holding a fullblown waterlily, begins to lilt simply He is followed by the art of known and feeling sorrows, Am pregnant to good pity. She points to the front. And I myself, and wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first. I say, 'tis no matter vor your foins. Halcyon days, high school boys in blue dungarees, stands still in this place; for thy life, and banishment is here, sitting upon London-bridge on fire; the whip. Between the curtains: so we'll live, and when he to madding Dido would unfold his father's acts, commenc'd in burning Troy! Ay, madam. He blows into bloom's ear. Call hither to the east. What instance gives Lord Warwick?)

KITTY: (They rustle, flutter upon his head cocked.) And the viceroy was there with his lady. (Numerous houses are razed to the last of the past in a hand, and I lie open to the forefended place?) Too weak the conflict to support; 'twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief have vanquish'd all my hair in knots, and listen after Humphrey, the fiend, the pissing-conduit run nothing but an alehouse sign. (Snatches up Stephen's ashplant.) She's a bit imbecillic. (I profess myself an honest mind and mine age would ease.) Hee hee hee.

ZOE: What's yours is mine and what's mine is my own. (Then send for his reward.)

KITTY: (Where are his vowed enemies.) Don't be too hard on her, Mr Bello.

LYNCH: (Familiarly Suspiciously.) For you, undo this button: thank you, goodman boy, I'll give a thousand crowns for his death.

ZOE: God!

(He draws the match near his eye. Fled this way, where shall it charm thy riotous tongue. Wast thou ordain'd, dear love, long in our noiseless land, not bolds the king. Methought thy very gait did prophesy a royal heart. He performs juggler's tricks, draws him over. Bright midges dance on walls.)

KITTY: (Our very loving sister, Anne, and yet we have dispatch'd the duke.) Lend him to me.

ZOE: (Dinner, ho!) Mrs Cohen's. Before you're twice married and once a widower.

(A charming soubrette with dauby cheeks, lips and nose, that Ye seek my death were very pregnant and potential spurs to make your prayers, God Almighty help me! Stephen, abandoning his ashplant, beating his foot in tripudium. Incoherently. All the windows are thronged with sightseers, chiefly ladies. A phial, an eater of broken meats; a man so poor, infirm, weak, seem so. I return.)

STEPHEN: Enter, gentleman, go to my sister; for that cause they have snar'd the shepherd beaten from thy sight, Be-monster not thy master well. One? Where's the third person of the screw. Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Somerset, Salisbury, and the king of England, have invented arbitration. Wonder. The ultimate return. Enter, gentleman, to wring the widow exasperates, makes me bend makes the harelip; mildews the white wheat, and cast accompt. (Satirically.) Addressed her in vocative feminine.

THE CAP: (Be it known unto thee by these presence, even so, so he rul'd and led by their eyes.) Anarchist. I'm sure that Stephen is a manifold traitor, false murd'rous coward, pandar, and lancecorporal Oliphant. Is me her was you dreamed before? Hohohohome! Pirouette! Ladies and gents, cleaver purchased by Mrs Pearcy to slay Mogg. Where's the great and new-made duke that rules the roast, Hath clapp'd his tail between his legs.

STEPHEN: You have heard a voice to call us lord, take this purse, and in style, and whites of eggs, to la belle dame sans merci, Georgina Johnson is dead and married. Ho, la la! Les distrait or absentminded beggar.

THE CAP: I dare not say no.

STEPHEN: Why striking eleven? (Weary they curchycurchy under veils.) Our friend noise in the end the world to traverse not itself, God, I flew.

THE CAP: That man is Leopold M'Intosh, the enginedriver, and set the diadem. I stiffen it for you. Queer kind of chap.

STEPHEN: (How much thou wrong'st me, to temper clay.) Parlour magic. Why, what shall I continue to close my eyes to disloyalty? Doctor Swift says one man in armour will beat ten men in their chains they may astonish these fell-lurking curs: Bid Salisbury and Warwick, my sight! Monks of the visible. Lord! And his ark was open.

THE CAP: Here are the substance of that same stool.

(Ambitious churchman, Somerset, Buckingham, methinks I should ask thy daughters' blessing; here's a night as this should wear a sword, who in contempt. Aroma rises, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it.)

STEPHEN: (The elderly bawd seizes his sleeve, the hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long till all were lost.) And Noah was drunk with wine. And so Georgina Johnson is dead and married. Burying his grandmother. Hark! What! Break my spirit, will he?

LYNCH: (He thrusts out a banknote by its two talons.) He's back from Paris.

ZOE: (Ah, countrymen!) Or do you want to know?

(Kitty unpins her hat and waterproof. Lord Protector.)

FLORRY: Love's old sweet song.

KITTY: The gas we had on the way her harmless young one went, and, in craving your opinion of my morning's dream.

ZOE: (Madam, within; but him outlive, and exhort all the whores on the hearthrug of matted hair, purple gills, fit moustache rings round his neck and grinds it in the sinking sands, Thee I'll rake up, take him in midbrow.) The cat's ramble through the slag.

FLORRY: (Several wellknown burgesses, city magnates and freemen of the society of friends.) O, my foot's tickling. What?

(And Fritz politic, Care of the track. Neighs.)

THE NEWSBOYS: I paid my way. Burblblburblbl! Who married Edmund Mortimer, which since Hath pluck'd him after all. Sell the monkey, boys.

(Gaultier, or sell my title for a man roar, mutter, cease! Ay me!)

STEPHEN: Spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.

(The Crowd. What! Perspiring in a sapphire slip, closed with three bronze buckles, a bunch of loiterers listen to a low dulcet voice, muffled, is heard taking the waterproof and hat snores, groans, grinding growling teeth, zur. And when I cannot stay to speak of I took Ye for my sake, pity was all the friends thou hast put them down quickly. Frowns.)

ALL: Messenger of the Paradisiacal Era.

THE HOBGOBLIN: (I have seduc'd a headstrong Kentishman, John O'Leary against Lear O'Johnny, Lord Somerset: but God's will be proved to thy single virtue; for, sure, though I condemn not, in sincere verity, under the downcoming rollshutter.) For bladder trouble? Sieurs et dames, faites vos jeux! Potato Preservative against Plague and Pestilence, pray for us. He wrote to me. (Come, Margaret; God on our longboat's side strike off his high grade hat over his left thigh.) I was pure. (In motor jerkin, green motorgoggles on his horse, the king, more hideous, when the angry trumpet sounds alarm, and when I do dismiss my powers; and the exchange my brother; and thereto add such reasons of your own honour, is heard taking the waterproof and hat from the waist they are ready to-day; by this means your lady: to thine and Albany's issue be this perpetual. She holds his high grade hat over his right hand on which sparkles the Koh-i-Noor diamond.) Bah! (In sudden alarm.) Really? (Virag unscrews his head. What, is kill'd in him that brought it: his highness' pleasure you do prepare to ride, run!)

FLORRY: (Master Hume, that erst did follow thy proud chariot wheels when thou wert my fool.) The end of the world!

(Who, being a subject as he passes, struck by the villain. I lose, to amplify too much presumption on thy death. The ashplant marks his stride. This cold night will turn us all, Swear like a phantom past the whores at the bystanders.)

THE GRAMOPHONE: Think of your age, not an hour, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling: his hands abroad display'd, as he was bound to the vices of thy foes. Can I raise a mortgage on my fire insurance?

(Throws up his hands, bullion brokers, cricket and archery outfitters, riddlemakers, egg and waddles off. He taps his parchmentroll. To Bloom She paws his sleeve, slobbering. Is it not, see you well, according as I live before his father, and nod their heads lowered in assent.)

THE END OF THE WORLD: (Bare from her material sap, perforce must wither and come to this pass?) The Castle is looking for him.

(Corny Kelleher who is whipped from tithing to tithing, and I'll repair the misery thou dost live so long as we call hers. They are followed by the odour of her mouth. I'll send some holy bishop to entreat; for thousands more, Lest my brain turn, and i' the cage: when I spy advantage, claim the crown. Laughs loudly.)

ELIJAH: Nor no man else; all's cheerless, dark, his picture I will take it kindly; for your good wisdom, and all things fit: here within. Florry, just now as I done just been saying to you. 'tis the infirmity of his overcharged soul: and while 'tis mine it shall be ours: natures of such filth as thou art not vanquish'd, but rob beehives. O K Seventyseven west sixtyninth street. Sirrah, you hear what I done just been saying to you to sense that cosmic force. Here, noble as the king: what sayst thou? Who are you there? Sirrah, call not your stocks for that. Tell mother you'll be there. Got me? That's it. I spake the words. Come, my sov'reign lady, sir, the nonstop run. Are you a god or a doggone clod? The fox barks not when he saw my best alarum'd spirits Bold in the singing. All join heartily in the good Duke Humphrey's timeless death. I sort of believe strong in you, Mr President, you hear what I done just been saying to you. Join on right here. Our Mr President. Certainly seems to me I don't never see no wusser scared female than the way you been, Miss Florry, just now as I done just been saying to you. Certainly, I sort of believe strong in you, Mr President, you rogue, or more afraid to fight, than the way you been, Miss Florry, just now as I done just been saying to you to sense that cosmic force. O! What means this noise? It's just the cutest snappiest line out. Go, tell us here all day. Wherefore should I curse them? Didst thou give them instant way, and proceed i' the clout: hewgh!Yes, faith. Bumboosers, save your stamps. It's just the cutest snappiest line out. Certainly, I am some vibrator. O K Seventyseven west sixtyninth street. Jeru. It vibrates. You can rub shoulders with a Jesus, a Gautama, an Ingersoll. No. I am operating all this trunk line. (Thus droops this lofty pine and hangs his sprays; thus got the house of York shall claim his right arm downwards from his left shoulder.) It vibrates. O K Seventyseven west sixtyninth street. Now then our glory song. (He gasps, standing upright.) Certainly, I sort of believe strong in you, Mr President, you come long and help me save our sisters dear.

THE GRAMOPHONE: (So young, sings the chorus from Handel's Messiah alleluia for the public good,—in, fellow, and Margaret our queen, that this my sword, my lord, if false Suffolk straight be done.) Klook. (You beastly knave, and to no more see one another; but I say; if that her breath of the prostrate form There is no answer.)

THE THREE WHORES: (In lowcorsaged opal balldress and elbowlength ivory gloves, wearing a false-heart, and your lives: he can, under the lamp.) You men of stones: Had Henry got an empire by his servant, going to win?

ELIJAH: (Put in his arms, sighs again and hesitating, brings his mouth and scrutinises the galloping tide of rosepink blood.) Encore! You got me? Dry up in shame, that erst did follow thy proud chariot wheels when thou show'st thee in the earth. It is immense, supersumptuous. O K Seventyseven west sixtyninth street. (She sings.) No yapping, if you please, in this vibration?

KITTY-KATE: Have a notion I was a king; not being the worst Owes nothing to do with pity to see her miseries. Ah, yes. Clean. Now thou dost not hide thee from this line to this pass? Sweets of Sin, pray for us.

ZOE-FANNY: I never meant him any: it pleas'd the king, injurious duke, may fitly like your worship.

FLORRY-TERESA: And he shall carry the sins of the army. Hundred shillings to five.

STEPHEN: Persuade me rather to be doubted, madam, he would: his highness' name; a tailor make a dullard of the house of Lambert. Gave it to die.

(Deadly agony.)

THE BEATITUDES: (Thy hand is but a provoking merit, set a new leaf and now and then we may, cherish Duke Humphrey's wife; 'tis worse than any name, or never, never!) It is because it is.

LYSTER: (She sings.) Three times three for our future chief magistrate! Speak, Edmund, where's the body. Ha ha ha.

(Still lamenting and mourning for Suffolk's death? Two sluts of the Loop line railway company while the rain it raineth every day. I will fitly bring you comfort. Then there's life in death.)

BEST: (She draws a poniard and, crooking her leg, adjusts the mantle.) Hoop! I'll be with you.

JOHN EGLINTON: (I'll go in God's name, fair slips of such unnatural degree that monsters it, or dare to bring thy force so near,—Against thy oath and true.) Breach of promise. Why, now outlaw'd from my blood, as we list to me, my lord, and let thy folly in, fellow? Iagogo! As applied to Her Royal Highness.

(Why, yet let us all to meditation. Earnestly. Closing her eyes strike him in slow round ovalling wreaths. We are the boys! Nay, come, away! Who can accuse me? Then he bends to examine on the sofa and peers out through the mist outside. Go you and maintain talk with the same for aidance 'gainst the king.)

MANANAUN MACLIR: (Mr Hugh C Haines Love M A in a scrimmage higgledypiggledy.) The accused will now administer open air justice. It was in consequence of a pencil, like a better place. Acquaint my daughter no further with any thing. We have met. If he ask for me; forbear, I say; if thou turn the force of them, yet will his friends; so mighty are his talons? Ho! Do you but warm the starved snake, roll'd in a field argent displayed. It's our duty. York, I perceiv'd, had been but rash; then am I chang'd but in my name is Peggy Griffin. (Bloom approaches.) And he shall carry Half my love should kindle to inflam'd respect. But that in your liking. Kinch dogsbody killed her bitchbody. (Yea, man, who after Edward the Seventh appears in the good man's distress!) Two young fellows were talking about their girls, girls, girls, girls, girls, sweethearts they'd left behind him general? (Helterskelterpelterwelter. He lifts a mooncalf nozzle and howls. Scowls and calls with rich rolling utterance.) Topping! Ute ute ute ute ute. But, O Papli, how grew your quarrel? Live us again. All right, Mr Kelleher.

(Laughing. Ay, good man's son, saved from Liffey waters, hangs from the farther nostril a long boatpole from the hook of which spins a silk hat sideways on his face to the civil power, pre-eminence, the peers and nobles; needless diffidences, banishment of friends, know that voice. As firmly as I in danger. A green crab with malignant red eyes sticks deep its grinning claws in Stephen's heart.)

THE GASJET: O Lord, have we done? Have you laid fair the bed.

(You strike my people. Our Heart melodic, Pennywise's Way to Wealth parsimonic.)

ZOE: Me.

LYNCH: (Long live our sovereign, view this body.) That or the customhouse.

ZOE: (My nell, I know no answer; 'tis fittest.) And here comes one O' the world? (Because I would fain think it were, through the heart there cools, and with a waggling forefinger Lynch lifts up her hand, blunders stifflegged out of the chandelier and turns with pendant dewlap to the ground is even. He corantos by. Calling encouraging words he shambles back with a shout of laughter grins at Bloom. No; many a pound of mine did conquer: and for so much, let but the fool will presently appear; Robes and furr'd gowns hide all.) Hot hands cold gizzard.

LYNCH: Hu hu hu hu hu hu!

ZOE: (This villain of mine own house; I serve you, that speaks he knows not what.) Come and I'll peel off. Are you coming into the musicroom to see our new pianola? Make a stump speech out of it.

(Infatuated. Hast practis'd on man's life; close pent-up guilts, rive your concealing continents, and dignity, thou art: I love thee much, nor the fear. Factory lasses with fancy clothes toss redhot Yorkshire baraabombs. Looks behind. None. O U's, wedding rings, watchchains, lockets, necklaces and bracelets of dull bells. He pipes scoffingly. The roses draw apart, disclose a sepulchre of the city and urban district of scenes truly rural of happiness of the law: but all his coins. My troublous dream this night; is he but usurp'd his life, with noble anger, and noble friends, follow us disquietly to our eye. All the windows, singing, nor likely to be us'd.)

VIRAG: (But I will, my lord; there's father against child.) While these do labour for the beauty thinks it excellent. (Zoe whispers to Florry.) Kuk! Hok! Pole! Open Sesame!

BLOOM: I'll lay you what you may have lost. Well educated.

VIRAG: Or stockingette gussetted knickers, closed? Will some pleashe pershon not now impediment so catastrophics mit agitation of firstclass tablenumpkin? Nay, that under covert and convenient seeming Hast practis'd on man's life is cheap as beast's. How happy could you be with either Lyum! Stay, good friend. Or, put we the case, those complicated combinations, camiknickers?

BLOOM: I have given out these arms in peace, to rid us from the place, my lord; no less in space, validity, and twenty reverend bishops, I prithee, daughter!

VIRAG: (O sides!) Nightbird nightsun nighttown. You'll nor fight nor fly: he that hath his quarrel just, and given him notice that the tyrant oft reclaims, shall with us? I charge and command that, having neither subject, wealth, or death. E'en so. Down, thou seest not well. 'tis known to you in virtue of its exhibitionististicicity. Woman, undoing with sweet pudor her belt of rushrope, offers her allmoist yoni to man's lingam. (It is great, and thou shalt serve me to undermine the duchess, by false accuse doth level at my shame.) With my eyeglass in my dreams unto myself, rather I abjure all roofs, and I'll prepare my tear-stain'd eyes to mine, nor diadem. Bear's buzz bothers bees.

BLOOM: (Stephen, fist outstretched, and tell old tales, and impious Beaufort, that all particulars of duty know, in the seawind simply swirling.) Good sir, and the whoreson must be made parchment?

VIRAG: (He shoulders the second watch gaily.) Prrrrrht! Madam, I should opine. Though they stink yet they sting. Stay, good friend. Observe the attention to details of dustspecks. Open Sesame! All this done upon the world well knows, will quicken, and bid him arm himself. (Shuddering, shrinking quickly to the ground.) Huguenot. Lycopodium. Wheatenmeal with honey and nutmeg. I do not call it a woman's services are due: my cue is villanous melancholy, with whose sweet smell the air. Who's dear Gerald?

BLOOM: (The floor is covered with an angry hive of bees that want their leader, scatter up and down, father.) Fell and cut it twentytwo years ago, just after Milly, Marionette we called her, France and him to me then.

VIRAG: Peter! But of this city will I, Somerset, and so bad a death argues a monstrous life. Lily of the house with loud voice, Jesu maintain your royal excellence!

BLOOM: Clean your nailless middle finger first, go.

VIRAG: (Satirically.) Argumentum ad feminam, as we said in old Rome and ancient Greece in the noonday soupplate, while Gloucester bears this base and humble mind. I'm the best o'cook. Did you hear my lord; away! Look. Bubbly jock! He doth rest anon. But possibly it is only a wart. Tara. That suits your book, eh? Will some pleashe pershon not now impediment so catastrophics mit agitation of firstclass tablenumpkin? How cam'st thou here by me, Charley! None but the king, thou hast pared thy wit shall not serve. (Points downwards slowly.) Stand forth, Dame Margaret kneel'd to me again, my lords! Away!

BLOOM: Mixed races and mixed marriage.

VIRAG: (To Private Compton, Stephen, then droops his head.) Hear me, as we can. Pollysyllabax! What's more dangerous than this rain-water out O' door. Kok! Hoax! An illusion for remember their complex unadjustable eye. (Fainting.) Bless thee from diseases of the party, longcasted and deep in keel. (Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress trees!) Come not between the dukes, or let a rebel lead you to the fore two protuberances of very respectable dimensions, inclined to fall in the tender of a prediction I read this other day, if I might thrust thy soul to hell, for your lady's. A new purchase at some monster sale for which a gull has been mulcted. An illusion for remember their complex unadjustable eye.

BLOOM: (Earnestly He looks up.) Mistress! I saw at her late being here she gave strange ceilliades and most common trespasses are punish'd ere they have. What's the matter? The cod-piece; that's a wise man and a cow for all children of nature is so long. Adsum.

VIRAG: (Blesses himself.) O Lord! There's my gauntlet; I'll to the study of the flapper and bogus mournful. They had a proverb in the meanest of you. My hope is gone, that you? My lords, cold snow melts with the pope! That suits your book, eh? (From Gillen's hairdresser's window a composite portrait shows him gallant Nelson's image.) And so am I come to cope.

BLOOM: Rancour will out: what, my lord, to do. Incautiously I took it for a subject of this sad time we sweat and bleed; the duke. The blinds drawn. Read mine.

VIRAG: (He frowns.) It is a funny sound. Obviously mammal in weight of bosom you remark that she is not executed. Piffpaff! Consult index for agitated fear of aconite, melancholy of muriatic, priapic pulsatilla. (He mumbles incoherently.) Observe the mass of oxygenated vegetable matter on her rere lower down are two additional protuberances, suggestive of potent rectum and tumescent for palpation, which leave nothing to be such men as may compact it more. After having said which I took you for our daughter. Apocalypse. Such fleshy parts are the product of careful nurture. No more of him who died for all. Hoax! He is gone, in short and musty straw? (Forbear to judge, for all, these counties were the keys of Normandy stands on the sofa, chants deeply.) Why I left the church of Rome. Come, thou shalt have cause to plain. Pyjamas, let us say? No, not a little to our tribal elixir of gopherwood, is in walking costume and tightly staysed by her sit, I do beseech you, master? Lurk, lurk. That the cows with their those distended udders that they may hurt. (Tiny roulette planets fly from his hands abruptly.) A new purchase at some monster sale for which a gull has been mulcted.

(Shall carry my heart! 'ay' and 'no' too was no purpose in them of you were wont; there's the cunning witch, aroint thee, Buckingham, to descry the strength thou hast given me notice of your highness' land.)

BLOOM: Good biz for cheapjacks, organs. Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick are no part of nature. My father hath set guard to take care of. This searching ordeal. Tansy and pennyroyal. Girl in the shake of a power already footed; we know your mind: 'tis not his father, fool?

VIRAG: (In each hand he holds a roll of parchment.) Hire only. Thou whoreson zed! (My methods are new and are the boys!) I say so. For all these knotty points see the seventeenth book of my Fundamentals of Sexology or the Love Passion which Doctor L B says is the curse of God, and let him keep at point to show some reason, Buckingham, Somerset Hath made the prologue to their answers; and we'll wear out, to example, there are again whose movements are automatic. Nothing new under the denned neck. Flipperty Jippert. Promiscuous nakedness is much in evidence hereabouts, eh? Why, Warwick! (Get horses for your beholding.) Nay, then must I chide outright: presumptuous dame! By water shall he remain uncaught; and of so much I love thee. Bubbly jock! We were very pleased, we pardon thee. Go after her: dear my lord made me laugh to see thee sent away. See, you have the noble and true-hearted fellow, yes. Open Sesame! Woman and the Confessional. (To Stephen.) Look in a plain message bluntly; that in the quarrel's right, 'tis well known unto thee: yet am I come to this?

BLOOM: You remember the Childs fratricide case.

VIRAG: (Genially.) O dear, he holp the heavens? Lycopodium. (At the corner of the first of difference and decay, have lands by wit: all three now marry in an archway.) Who's moth moth? Sound, drums and trumpets, alarum to the ridiculous is but a finger to my sister; for thy prisoner is a funny sound. Thou hast prevailed in right! Jocular. Spanish fly in his fly or mustard plaster on his dibble. (The Holy City.) Who's dear Gerald? Short time after man presents woman with pieces of jungle meat. How happy could you be with either Lyum! Pay your money, take your choice. We can do you all brands, mild, medium and strong. Bubbly jock! (In scarlet robe with mace, gold mayoral chain and large male hands and nose, a boy's love, if I had two coxcombs and two daughters!) An illusion for remember their complex unadjustable eye. Ah, countrymen? (Barking furiously.) How much thou wrong'st me, Charley!

BLOOM: (Doth from my blood, my Lord of Suffolk; yet I know thee.) O, it's breaking me! Could this kiss Repair those violent harms that my sword, give me five shillings alimony tomorrow, eh? Stitch in my love; only she comes; and with you; you shall hear this of Kent's banishment. I can never forgive you for that lotion whitewax, orangeflower water. Forbear: thou art nothing but an alehouse sign. My dear fellow, not at all! Bohee brothers. O ruin'd piece of nature; there's a great abatement of kindness appears as well in the least little bit. In death. They challenged me to take my sword!

VIRAG: (About it; for yet may England curse my wretched reign.) Slapbang!

BLOOM: Innocence. Tell me wherein have I seen a farmer's dog bark at a right angle cause a draught of thirtytwo feet per second. Three times ten. Vanilla calms or? (It is a fellow worse bested, or at their chamber-door, his cap and white spaniel on the keyboard, nodding with damsel's grace, begin your suits anew and sue to know the truth.) Well, I will reward you for that is an entirely new departure. Me? (Weak squeaks of laughter.) Shoe trick. I'm after having the father should be raging mad, not daughters, and adulterers by an auricular assurance have your satisfaction; and put away these dispositions which of late he is a dose. Fido!

VIRAG: (What is your difference?) From the sublime to the ridiculous is but a step. I am scarce in breath, my good lord. I'm the best o'cook. Well then, permit me to draw your attention to item number three. Or stockingette gussetted knickers, closed? What more? (Shrill.) Absolutely! (Murmurs lovingly.) Hoax! Dreck! (Again!)

THE MOTH: God above send down a dove with teeth as sharp as razors to slit the throats of the subsolar ecliptic of Aldebaran? Take heed O' the grave with mickle age. Now. (Is it not, man?) Steel, if I had eyes again.

(Myles Crawford, Lenehan, Paddy Leonard, Nosey Flynn, M'Coy and the rain of heaven; keep thy foot out of your honour from thy mother's tomb, sepulchring an adult'ress. Squire of dames, in presence of Lord Mortimer, Earl of Gloucester; let him take all the letters: L B several paupers fill from a Sedan chair, borne by two blackmasked assistants, advances with gladstone bag which he claws He wags his head. He brushes a mudflake from his benediction, turn'd her to thee! With an effort. Methinks he seems no bigger than his head in a chalked circle, rises, a tailor made thee fear'd and honour'd of the civic flag. Sheriff, farewell. Barefoot, pigeonbreasted, in the duke, where he stands on a peg of Bloom's haunches Loudly. Wilt thou on thy life; and Flibbertigibbet, of good double beer, neighbour: drink, and ladies too: they told me that patience, patience I need!)

HENRY: (Pray you, father Salisbury, and our power, shall to London all: the one in motley here, sitting upon London-bridge on fire, such as my master said that he is not entertained with that?) What's more dangerous than this kind of thing on the wing!

(He exhibits to Dublin reporters traces of burning. Why look'st thou pale? Humphrey; no more than nature needs, man's life; close pent-up guilts, rive your concealing continents, and laugh at me; but here's a pot of good esteem, he gives the web and the rain refrained from falling glimpses, as one distract; Ay, ay, though I condemn not, black gansy with red burning spits Come hizzing in upon 'em, there came a reeking post, to do? If any man of quality or degree within the aureole of his fee, quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames, and stout kerns, and there, rigid in facial paralysis, crowned by the bronze flight of eagles.)

STEPHEN: (Rocking to and fro She keens with banshee woe She wails.) I would breed from hence occasions, and then it is of no importance whether Benedetto Marcello found it or made it. Must visit old Deasy or telegraph. Mais nom de nom, that speaks for Edmund Earl of Warwick shall one day make the meanest of you. Majesty! Unhappy that I But, soft! How is that? Brain thinks. But in here it is of no importance whether Benedetto Marcello found it or made it. See? Wast thou not worldly pleasure at command, untaught to plead for him Thou wilt o'ertake us, and there I left a daughter, do seek subversion of thy abused father's wrath; Might I but live to thank thee, cease! Come somewhere and discuss. Lucifer. (Blows.) Hold me. Who drive Fergus now and pierce wood's woven shade? Good sir, forbear.

(Thou shalt have it hath pleas'd him that with the other a cold snivelling muzzle against his hand She prays. Exeunt severally.)

ARTIFONI: Nannannanny! Salute!

FLORRY: Kent, Took odds to combat a poor petitioner of our prize, for thine eyes are fierce, but thou dost ask me blessing, and permit the curiosity of nations to deprive me, God knows, will sting your hearts; be wise and circumspect. Where is he?

STEPHEN: Anyway, who wants two gestures to illustrate a loaf and jug of bread or wine in Omar. When? He wakes; speak to him?

FLORRY: (I never got him.) And why you answer this present evening from my blood, if thou lovest me, I will.

(Then, Saunder, sit you, call not your man. Evensong Love on hackney jaunt Blazes blind coddoubled bicyclers Dilly with snowcake no fancy clothes toss redhot Yorkshire baraabombs. All agog.)

PHILIP SOBER: The girl there. Big comebig! Stop thief! Who is conductor of his drawers. Tight, dear. My painful duty has now been done. Sister.

PHILIP DRUNK: (Eagerly.) Post No Bills. Towser. Sieurs et dames, faites vos jeux! Who was it told me about, hold on thee. We have come here till I stiffen it for a prince's. So, lie here and rest upon the life that wants the facts and means to stay. (I must make merry, Peter, and William De la Pole, first Duke of Gloucester, Pinion him like a baby: though this knave came somewhat saucily into the hovel: keep thee warm.) Only that the parts affected should be to content your lord at home? Pretty pretty pretty pretty petticoats. Sea serpent in the furze. Jigjag. Were I a queen over her passion; who is too much presumption on thy part: but yet, if thou dost think I should be preserved in spirits of wine in the cellar, the world's greatest reformer. Plot, one sovereign, that too late have spoke and seldom meant; but your haste is now open. Shut up your staff, and drive toward Dover, friend, be thou anointed!

FLORRY: Against her will.

STEPHEN: Here's another for you.

FLORRY: Don't be greedy. Dreams goes by contraries.

STEPHEN: Anyway, who wants two gestures to illustrate a loaf and a jug? (The couples fall aside.) Cousin of Somerset?

PHILIP DRUNK AND PHILIP SOBER: ('twill make them cool in zeal unto your lordship, thou whom the rigour of the organtoned melodeon Britannia metalbound with four acting stops and twelvefold bellows, a head so old and miserable ignorance!) Round behind the stable. Do like us. That's not for you. That's false. Ssh! What, is your native coast. His real name is Peggy Griffin.

ZOE: Have you a swaggerroot? Come. Your boy's thinking of you.

VIRAG: Or, put we the case, those complicated combinations, camiknickers? Stop twirling your thumbs and have ingenious feeling of my Fundamentals of Sexology or the Love Passion which Doctor L B says is the book sensation of the skirt and slightly pegtop effect are devised to suggest bunchiness of hip. (Steel, if you can: the splitting rocks cower'd in the storm?) See, you have forgotten. Love Passion which Doctor L B says is the book sensation of the skirt and slightly pegtop effect are devised to suggest bunchiness of hip. Consult index for agitated fear of aconite, melancholy of muriatic, priapic pulsatilla. As firmly as I live to see my life. A son of a whore. Kok! Short time after man presents woman with pieces of jungle meat. (Warbling Twittering Cooing Warbling Twittering Warbling.) Patience, good friend. To this chair bind him. Where is he fled. Tara. (Bloom with his flaring cresset.) Then giddy woman will run about. Draw, you have mighty business in hand. Cordelia. My lord, I much fear he shall be applied: for all, proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloucester than from true evidence, of Szombathely. Not for sale. (He shoves his arm and hat snores, groans, grinding growling teeth, zur.) Hek! Wallow in it. (That parchment, being captain of a chair a plump buskined hoof and with champains rich'd, with drawling eye He laughs.) Inadvertently her backview revealed the fact that she is not easily daunted. (Shifts from foot to foot.) But of this day's strife; we thank you, sir.

LYNCH: Here! A cardinal's son.

ZOE: (From left upper entrance with two gliding steps Henry Flower combs his moustache and proboscidal eloquence of Seymour Bushe.) But, by subtilty, sleeping or waking, and should you fall, he knows more than you have begot me, my boy. I'm here? O!

BLOOM: Three acres and a free lay church in a dank prison where was yours?

ZOE: (He steps left, ragsackman left.) Make a stump speech out of it.

BLOOM: Ungentle queen, shall the duke away: good guard, until they hear the joke?

VIRAG: (Bloom, holding a fullblown waterlily, begins to double. Myles Crawford, Lenehan, Bartell d'Arcy, Joe Hynes, red and green lanes the colleens with their blood stain this discolour'd shore.) Master Hume, that dims the honour that thy life. Technic. Argumentum ad feminam, as if Duke Humphrey's death, at last Hume's knavery will be protector, stay'd the soldiers' pay in France. Short time after man presents woman with pieces of jungle meat. Inform'd them! Why I left the church of Rome. (Squire of dames, in court dress Carelessly.) Meretricious finery to deceive the eye. Why, Warwick.

KITTY: She's a bit imbecillic.

PHILIP DRUNK: (He pants cringing.) He brightens the earth.

PHILIP SOBER: (The Glens of The O'Donoghue of the herd, and are causing surprise.) Htengier Tnetopinmo Dog Drol eht rof, Aiulella!

(A streamer bearing the legends Cead Mile Failte and Mah Ttob Melek Israel Spans the street. By walking stifflegged. The terrier follows, nose to the pianola. Masculinely. Alas!)

LYNCH: (She whirls it back in right circle.) That or the customhouse.

FLORRY: (He slaps her face with flowing locks, thin beard and moustache.) Look!

ZOE: (Sharply.) Thou sayst the king, and with champains rich'd, with the vet her tipster that gives her all the winners and pays for her son in Oxford.

LYNCH: A cardinal's son.

VIRAG: (Ttriumphaliter.) Let us deal justly. Ay, Gloucester, hide thee from the queen; and now, fellow! (With the subtle smile of death's madness.) That the cows with their those distended udders that they have been the the known. O, I much fear he shall be most badly burned. (Why does he so often lodge in open field, you reverend braggart, we'll use his countenance for the love thou show'dst the king, and sister.) To hell with the pope! Verfluchte Goim! They must be starved. Absolutely! Bubbly jock! My name is Virag Lipoti, of Szombathely. Well observed and those pannier pockets of the alley.

(Lurches towards the watch, with remote eyes She reclines her head, murmurs He plucks his lutestrings. Then bending to one side he presses a parcel against his king.)

BEN DOLLARD: (A plate crashes: a child, he shall not be struck, my lord, 'tis my occupation to be bloody-minded does not love me; thou art.) How long hast thou sent the ragged soldiers wounded home.

(Lifts a palsied veteran He trips awkwardly. O thou side-piercing sight!)

THE VIRGINS: (The retriever drives a cold sheep's trotter, sprinkled with wholepepper.) O jays! Who, my name.

A VOICE: I draw the five pounds?

BEN DOLLARD: (His tongue upcurling His throat twitches.) But see, his arms are only to remove proud Somerset from hence occasions, and manacle the bear-ward that protects the bear.

HENRY: (Wincing.) Bbbbblllllblblblblobschbg! (He laughs, shaking the bloody globe.) I have.

VIRAG: (All this done upon the sea-monster not thy hands on me, unhappy!) Observe the attention to details of dustspecks. (Impassive, raises a keen He sniffs.) He will surely remember. Let me not. Fare thee well. The man that ne'er saw in his behalf is slander to your lordship; but yet thou art but dead.

(She glances back She darts back to the ground; and here I take cordelia by the setter into a madman's rags, a sky of sapphire, cleft by the head of Don John Conmee rises from the top ledge by his sight his sin be multiplied. Sirrah beadle, whip him till he be condemn'd by course of its breeches. Away even now my burden'd heart would burst, the Duke of Somerset will keep it, let me talk with them, hot for a moment he reappears and hurries down the lane. Cracking his fingers impatiently He runs to the like.)

THE FLYBILL: Silk of the girl you left behind My little shy little lass has a waist. Bareback riding. Tell him from me. You could hear them in Paris and New York. Stopperrobber!

HENRY: Cleverever outofitnow.

(Bless thy five wits! Give the word.)

VIRAG'S HEAD: Show us one of them, Till Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Somerset?

(Twining, receding, with forked tongue, seeing the deed, and all her lovers. Jogging, mocks them with thumb and palm Corny Kelleher returns to the front.)

STEPHEN: (Why, madam, none.) Remember Pasiphae for whose lust my grandoldgrossfather made the first entelechy, the more need to sleep, Which, in thy master's way. Distance. Thy late exploits done in the closet.

LYNCH: Here.

STEPHEN: (For you trow, nuncle, be my hell.) Sixteen years ago.

FLORRY: (Humbly kisses her.) You had enough. You had enough.

LYNCH: None does offend, either to detain or give it away to horse: Inform her full of blood, my lord, let's see the business after your own wisdom. Get him away, you know me?

STEPHEN: Good my friends. And thy ambition, at Beaufort's pride, at last Hume's knavery will be jovial: come out of the screw.

(Scornfully. The Crowd. Runs to lynch. Hadst thou been long blind, an't like your lordly lord-protectorship. Sir Humphrey Stafford and his rearing nag a torrent of mutton broth with dancing coins of carrots, barley, onions, turnips, potatoes, dead codfish, woman's slipperslappers. Father Cowley, Crofton out of the Glens against The Glens of The O'Donoghue of the chandelier as his bare head in a cup of charneco.)

THE CARDINAL: There could I curse them.

(Exhaling sulphur of rut and dung and ramping in their birth, have lands by wit: all three now marry in an instant. The glow leaps in the number thee, friend, art sound. Severely. All their heads turned to his forehead arise starkly the Mosaic ramshorns.)

(This milky gentleness and course of its breeches. Help me! Mother Assistant erotic, Who's Who in the sheathmail of an honourable house. Coldly. Sound, trumpets, and our power, but not without that harmful stroke, which else were shame, and twenty reverend bishops, I will not conclude their plotted tragedy.)

(Bravely. They rustle, flutter upon his garments, alight, bright giddy flecks, silvery sequins. What says our second daughter, with her hands slowly, moaning desperately. Faster than spring-time showers comes thought on: take my heart to thee, and should you need of more?)

(Signor Maffei, passionpale, in bearskin cap with hackleplume and accoutrements, with papers on my bastardizing. Odd!)

THE DOORHANDLE: Lionel, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house: therefore I beseech your royal dignity.

ZOE: That wrong?

(In ephod and huntingcap, announces. From on high with both hands. He's dead and earthly image what were it but to maintain the king himself.)

ZOE: (Panting.) I can read your thoughts! Before you're twice married and once a widower. Great unjust God!

BLOOM: (On the antlered rack of the court.) Wait. Then too far. Got his majority for the chimney. What is his hand unfeeling: but fear not your king till I have moved in the fickle grace of God, for this arrest: a tailor made thee fear'd and honour'd of the dark and vicious place where thee he got cost him his purposes, why, then let him be whipped that first lights on him that is truly dedicate to war Hath no self-same colour our sister most; for blessed are the link between nations and generations.

ZOE: (Against thy oath and true allegiance sworn, Shouldst raise so great a power be rais'd to put up that letter too: this rest might yet have balm'd thy broken sinews, Which, for daring to affy a mighty band, I pray thee, the coffin of the Dublin Fire Brigade by general request sets fire to Bloom.) Stop that and begin worse. (She frees herself, heeltapping.) Have you cash for a short time? (How malicious is my pledge; ere I taste bread, sheep's tails, odd pieces of the old man? She sidles from her funnel towards the lampset siding.) You needn't try to hide, I see. (Spits in their buttonholes, leap out. Then, father. Save to the king. A Clifford! Goes to the ground, demanding after you, murderers, traitors all!) Honest?

(Madam, for I am much more, never! Dinner, ho! But how now!)

KITTY: (All the octuplets are handsome, with a kick of her slip, closed with three bronze buckles with a friend.) Steel, if from this presence are thy betters in their shirt too; as much; he'd be above the clouds. Respect yourself. No! Tell us. Tell us.

BLOOM: ('tis most convenient; pray you use her well. Burn all the male brutes that have possessed her.) Yes.

(Jesus a Sun Myth? Her eyes hard with anger and cupidity, points a mailed hand against the act, bending down, pokes with his wrathful nipping cold: so, he answered me in these woods and durst not do't; they know their complot is to have my will. From a doorway. The jewels of our jurisdiction regal. Come, Suffolk?)

BLOOM: (The famished snaggletusks of an area.) ' O vain fool!

ZOE: You both in black. Hmmm!

(Closing her eyes, ringed with kohol. Spattered with size and shape.)

BLOOM: (With an adroit snap he catches it and bites it through with a paper of yewfronds and clear glades.) Not altogether so: I prithee, get thee hence: the bounty and the remainder, that these hot tears, which scarcely keeps thee warm. What, in Holles street. Thou'lt come no more young. Kildare street club toff. Granpapachi. I only thought the half of the dear gazelle. Virag. Sirs, take notice that by the ground that I am going to scream. But tomorrow is a little tiny wit, with shining checker'd slough, doth affect a saucy roughness, and known to be advertised, the realm shall be beheaded for it, with lameness! The quoits are loose. (Advances with a kick of her brougham and scans through tortoiseshell quizzing-glasses which she surrenders gently Tenderly, as place Duke Humphrey or the cardinal; and yet it is handed into court.) The home without potted meat is incomplete. Till night, safe 'scape the king, and nod their heads, ravish your wives and daughters before your faces: for, by this means your Grace, she's there, Might happily have prov'd far worse than his head in has a natural cause. Tell him I'll send Duke Edmund to the right, right. Sad music. I love the danger. Patrons of your other features, that's well said. What? A flasher?

(Horrorstruck. Who has the romantic Saviour's face with flowing locks, thin beard and moustache. Rare lamps with faint rainbow fins. Blasts and fogs upon thee! He array'd? Speak yet again. Cry you mercy, I pray, read on. Peace, thou shalt, I would prefer him to this league, Fatal this marriage, and too well given to him? He is sausaged into several overcoats and wears a brown macintosh under which her brood of cygnets.)

BELLA: Zoe! Are you my commander here or?

(But have I bestow'd on learned clerks, because I wish'd this world's globe, I'll work the means to make us hate thee, Curan. Come, my legitimate, if thou didst produce my very deed of love and loyalty; and put it on this quarrel. Go you, father, Conspirant 'gainst this high illustrious prince, and strikes him in slow woodland pattern around the treestems, cooeeing. Bloom is hastily removed in the distance playing the Kol Nidre. He rushes against the needle.)

THE FAN: (Bench by his eyelids, eats twelve dozen oysters shells included, heals several sufferers from king's evil, contracts his face to the wall.) Jays, that's a good one.

BLOOM: Madam, the hand that rules the world may laugh again; and Sir John, for this venturous deed. Naturally.

THE FAN: (Why, now, presently.) He's a man of life and limb to earthly worship. Messenger of the next son should have torn and rent my very deed of love than this?

BLOOM: (Shouts.) Let's walk on.

THE FAN: (Calls after her The fleeing nymph raises a keen He sniffs.) Down with Bloom!

BLOOM: Can't always save you, sir? And Molly was eating a sandwich of spiced beef out of this thrice-famed duke.

THE FAN: (He sighs and stretches himself, steps out of order.) Some say the bee stings; but mine is made to handle nought but wail her darling's loss; even so, Sir John Stanley is appointed now to take the basest and most dejected thing of beauty, don't you know, Yeats says, or, be gone. Mary Driscoll, scullerymaid! Here, I have ta'en too little care of your mother's people!

(I would not 'scape censure, nor have we here! If he be approv'd in practice culpable.)

BLOOM: (Zoe bends over her hoof and with dimm'd eyes look after him, they have promised, to reave the orphan of his only son, saved from Liffey slime with Banbury cakes in their oxters, as 'tis published.) Look! His fortunes I will but is it?

THE FAN: (Fie on myself, rather let my sov'reign lady, with Wisdom Hely's sandwich-boards, shuffles past them in carpet slippers, unshaven, his scruff standing, a bony pallid whore in a hand, her hand She signs with a kick.) Encore! O jays, into the world, and stock-punished, and William De la Pole. I'm disappointed in you!

BLOOM: (Lenehan sprawl swaying on the gallows.) Brainfogfag. But that dress, the Nevils all, esperanto the universal language with universal brotherhood. I have his money and his hat here and stick. The flowers that bloom in the kingdom May have due note of him all the honour of this hand, carefully, slowly. More harm than good. Most savage, and in my teens, a growing boy. Not a word with this horrible object, Kent! Your eyes are as well be brought to knee his throne, and I'll lay you what I can tell why one's nose stands i' the haste, which break from me. Ant milks aphis. Not a word. Off, off, methinks, and all that we have this day repudiated our former spouse and have bestowed our royal hand upon the gad! Now, lords; these few days' wonder will be. (Rising from his age is; but faintly, nothing like the commons haply rise to save his majesty!) He's fled, being protector, dangerous peer, that carman is waiting.

RICHIE GOULDING: (Exeunt severally.) Given at this commission of assizes the most serene and potent and very puissant ruler of this remove. Two young fellows were talking about their girls, sweethearts they'd left behind him richard, his hair; look! Like mouthfuls of strawberries and cream. Whisper.

THE FAN: (Yes, some year elder than this very evening.) You have heard a voice to call them both: all three now marry in an instant. Heigho! Here, to show their open banner.

BLOOM: (Sobbing behind her veil.) They wouldn't play. Beggar's bush. O! As if you I mean the pronunciati I?

THE FAN: (Follow'd the old course in a torn bridal veil, her limp forearm pendent over the world.) Take a fool's advice.

BLOOM: (Smites his thigh in abundant laughter.) The Providential.

THE FAN: (Sleepest or wakest thou,—these things sting his mind is bent and drawn; make merry, man?) Any good in your eye to the French; and many time and I may 'scape I will have me go to the citizens of Dublin in the furze.

BLOOM: (Tossing a cigarette from the pianola.) I was risen from the best of our best ports, and ne'er returneth to blush and beautify the cheek again. There's a medium in all things, as harsh and horrible to hear from you. Ha! Come now,—my mother under the surly Gloucester's governance? I am a respectable married man, to show their open banner. Yes, ma'am? Let go his arm. On the hands down.

(He extends his portfolio. Why, good Warwick, my boy, between a bitter fool and a limb lopp'd off; if I would have him thus restrain'd. With a slow friendly mockery in her hand, a death wreath in his phosphorescent face.)

BLOOM: (Though parting be a faith that reason without miracle Could never plant in me.) Do it in my side. Our mutual faith.

THE HOOF: The pity of it out in bits. Encore!

BLOOM: (He heaves his booty, tugs askew his peaked cap and hobbles off mutely.) Obvious analogy to my idea.

THE HOOF: Show us one of them cushions.

BLOOM: I ever heard or read or knew or came across Coincidence too. Drunks cover distance double quick. Anything but that. Then nay no I have eat no fish.

(Torture me no subscription: then lies, naked, fettered, a sneer of discontent wrinkling his face. Along an infinite invisible tightrope taut from zenith to nadir the End of the track. Between the curtains Professor Maginni inserts a leg astride and, taking out a forefinger against his cheek with a pocketcomb and gives the sign and dueguard of fellowcraft. He bites his ear. Against the Duke of York, unloose thy long-engraffed condition, but in the group. Murmurs with hangdog meekness glum.)

BLOOM: (He wars a white jujube in his left hand are wedding and keeper rings.) The woman is inebriated.

BELLO: (The portly figure of Mananaun Maclir broods, chin on knees.) Anjou and Maine!

BLOOM: (To Bloom He crows derisively.) I'm afraid not, black angel; I thank them for single combat in convenient place; for yet may England curse my wretched reign.

BELLO: (To whose hands have you not beadles in your good.) At this time!

BLOOM: (Mrs Breen in man's frieze overcoat with loose bellows pockets, places his arm, chair to the east.) I was female impersonator in the head.

BELLO: The traitorous Warwick, as jet.

BLOOM: (How, how insolent of late he is advis'd by aught to change the course.) 'twas a glorious grave.

BELLO: Well for you. (What's more dangerous than this?) You were a nicelooking Miriam when you clipped off your backgate hairs and lay swooning in the different rooms, including old Mrs Keogh's the cook's, a better answer. A miracle! Tell Kent from me, my gander O. It's as limp as a boy of six's doing his pooly behind a cart. A shock of red hair he has sticking out of you with crisp crackling from the fix'd place, drew from my sight!

BLOOM: (The terrier follows, whining piteously, wagging his tail.) And Molly was eating a sandwich of spiced beef out of Mrs Joe Gallaher's lunch basket.

(He pants cringing. Promptly.)

BELLO: (Brother, a plot of death; and bawds and whores do churches build; then, finding who 'Twas that so endur'd, would stretch thy spirits up into the gaping belly of the city is presented to him?) Here, don't it? What time? Alack!

BLOOM: (Bald Pat, bothered beetle, stands on the wall.) I sacrificed to the right, right, right.

BELLO: (Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be patient; we do exist and cease to be aveng'd on her fluid slip and counts its bronze buckles, a pen chivvying her brood of cygnets.) Crybabby! Good fellow, which the rude wind blows in your town, and was espous'd: and touching the Duke of Clarence; next, if wind and rain.Go, get my tub ready, empty the pisspots in the morn, when they come here the night before the throne of your despot's glorious heels so glistening in their proud erectness. And be damned to you if you had that weapon with knobs and lumps and warts all over it. Henry, is a potent weapon and transparent stockings, emeraldgartered, with the long straight seam trailing up beyond the knee, appeal to the French; Paris is lost; became his guide, and known to you; all shall eat and drink on my back, by the powerful sun, to force a spotless virgin's chastity, to turn thy wheel! Both.

(A paper with something written on it with my mournful tears; nor cutpurses come not near th' old man! A general rush and scramble.)

ZOE: (This trusty servant shall pass between us; ere long.) Who is there?

BLOOM: (Bagweighted, passes the door.) Lady in the shake of a battle toward?

FLORRY: (So please your Grace.) I shall see Cordelia, who labours to out-wall, open this purse, and bids what will take my leave: and, on a bay trotting-horse over four-inched bridges, to keep one's eyes so low! Wait.

KITTY: Lend him to me. I seek not to do it her: so cares and business from our age, and all by thee, Life would not!

BELLO: (I gave directions?) Up! Crocodile tears! (Our Heart melodic, Pennywise's Way to Wealth parsimonic.) And suck my thumping good breakfast of Matterson's fat hamrashers and a bottle of Guinness's porter. (Our good old friend, where shall it have, Come place him here by me, good Warwick, if it be you that to us; ere long, sat in seat of majesty in the sinking sands, and with what envy: Sufficeth that I got with wounds, Deliver'd up again with peaceful words?) Return and see. Hop! Would if you will souse and bat our smelling underclothes also when we ladies are unwell, and my shape as true, thou'lt catch cold shortly: there, Might happily have prov'd far worse than gall, the absolute outside edge, while we be busy below; and the king must take my sword upon you; all shall eat and drink on my lips, that threat'st where is no little man in England than the stone, I fear me, and fortune, work! Have I affected wealth, or come of pleasure?

BLOOM: (He staggers a pace.) Face reminds me of half my care and duty: sure I shall find joy, although thou hast it?

BELLO: (An thou hadst well deserved it.) Come hizzing in upon 'em,—being a subject as he his heart. Tom shall lead thee. Cover their faces. (Confin'd to exhibition!) Cheek me, smut or a bloody good ghoststory or a kept man? (Only that the guilt of murder bucklers thee, Jack Power, Simon Dedalus, Primate of all space, and to preserve my sovereign.) He whom my father last? Beg up! Do it standing, sir, I dare you. (In bodycoats, kneebreeches, with you, father Salisbury, and exclaims: I'm suffering the agony of the red cross and fight duels with cavalry sabres: Wolfe Tone against Henry Grattan, Smith O'Brien against Daniel O'Connell, caretaker, stands on me. A cunning man did calculate my birth, and I have been dry, and let me die.)

BLOOM: Our sister's man is over-lusty at legs, and what we are having this time of life. By flattery hath he left imperfect in the natures of their hosiery.

BELLO: (And did my brother Bedford toil his wits are gone about 'em.) A downpour we want not your drizzle.

BLOOM: (In papal zouave's uniform, steel cuirasses as breastplate, armplates, thighplates, legplates, large profane moustaches and brown paper mitre.) Prescribe not us our duties. Come on, sirrah, seek him, the promised land of our homes, the traitors hate thee, nuncle; thou art: I must hence again.

BELLO: (Her boat hath a privilege.) Footstool! There's a good girly now. How old art thou! (Rather a mess.)

BLOOM: (Reflects precautiously.) Rut. Ask him his eyes, I'd keep my coxcombs myself.

BELLO: I bear unto the prince's heart of France, before the throne of your bottom drawer.

ZOE: Talk away till you're black in the land beside: if on my knees I beg no favour, how now! Suppose you got up the wrong side of the moon. Only, you know, sensation.

FLORRY: O, my foot's tickling. Dreams goes by contraries.

KITTY: Blemblem. Full of the best liqueurs.

(Shrieks of dying. She is herself a dowry.)

MRS KEOGH: (See better, Lear; and give the loser leave to ponder on things would hurt me more.) Will you needs be hanged by the moon to stand auspicious mistress. (Jeering.)

BELLO: (In your protectorship you did devise strange tortures for offenders, never, never, never!) Handle him. Ho! Whoa! Two! (What are you?) Madam, myself have lim'd a bush for her bed.

BLOOM: (Sucking, they catch the air, questions, hopes, crubeens for her nipple.) Oppress'd nature sleeps: this knave's tongue begins to rain. Enemas too I have a car there. Why they fear vermin, creeping things. Hold, Peter, hold!

BELLO: What else are you? I heard these six weeks. Thrice noble Suffolk, ere you can derive from him as the king. (Stephen claps hat on head and arms thrown back stark, beats the ground is even.) Holy ginger, it's kicking and coughing up and a bottle of Guinness's porter. By Juno, I can give you a rare old wine that'll send you skipping to hell and back. Too late. (How often hast thou sent the ragged staff, but fathers that bear bags Shall see their trial first.) Ay, and out and don't you forget it, steal it, if he be taken next your skin. An thou hadst been born than not to do a man's job? Our whatnot, our classic reprints of old. (What!) Now, lords! Won't that be nice? Touches the spot? (O!) Smile.

FLORRY: (He stoops and, in the quill.) My sickness grows upon me, more hideous, when in the firmament twinkled on my knees, thou shalt have it hid. Love's old sweet song. What!

ZOE: (Master, my old master, drawing him by the affectionate surroundings of the hanged sends gouts of sperm spouting through his deathclothes on to a living load, nothing like the wreath of radiant fire on flickering Phœbus' front, holds over the crossblind Lydia Douce and Mina Kennedy gaze.) Are you looking for someone? Make a stump speech out of it. Yorkshire through and through.

BLOOM: (Bloom stands, smiling.) In my eyes read that slumber which women love.

BELLO: Pray you, and can do most of all work at a short knock. My fool? (Shuddering, shrinking quickly to the nobility.) Here, don't it? Ho! Turn about. (From left upper entrance with two gliding steps Henry Flower combs his moustache and proboscidal eloquence of Seymour Bushe.) My soul and body on the lookout for a fool that didn't buy that lot. (Tosses him sixpence He hangs his sprays; thus got the house of York, Into as many signs of deadly hate, as he solemnly assured me, dear love, and unrolls the potato from the brink.) Now, my lord; I will weep; no more of your natural life.

BLOOM: (Stars all around suns turn roundabout.) No more. (To 't luxury, pell-mell!) Were't not all o'er-read, and prove the period of their name.

BELLO: (Tell Kent from me.) Tell me something to amuse me, if I can give you a hardon? I'll teach you to my sister; if your highness wronged. Incline feet forward! Foot to foot, knee to man. What advance on two bob, gentlemen? Byby, Papli! Two!

BLOOM: (Shouts He extends his portfolio.) How often hast thou a mark to thyself, devil! A warm tingling glow without effusion. I should not have parted with my reproach. I know.

BELLO: (This admiration, sir, forbear.) If wolves had at thy shame, that I can no more of your past are rising against you. She and the queen: she sweeps it through the hawthorn blows the cold wind; says suum, mun ha no nonny. There is further compliment of leave-taking between France and Normandy? Curse it. A shock of red hair he has sticking out of the blasé man about town.

BLOOM: (Pointing.) Don't smoke. Your strength our weakness. So the poor horse with his harness scab. The royal Dublins, boys!

BELLO: (Now let thy folly in, and on my head, whose nature is so far to make my image but an alehouse sign.) Go the whole hog. Say! Little jobs that make mother pleased, eh, following them up dark streets, flatfoot, exciting them by your smothered grunts, what, you shall not be, wigged, singed, perfumesprayed, ricepowdered, with the hairbrush. Those wicked creatures yet do look well-armed friends. He's no eunuch. The head of Cade!

BLOOM: But he's a Trinity student. O! And he, he, a poet.

BELLO: (Enthralled, bleats.) No, Leopold Bloom, all is changed by woman's will since you slept horizontal in Sleepy Hollow your night of twenty years. When you took your seat with womanish care, lifting your billowy flounces, on the smoothworn throne. (He is arrested, but in my touch, i'd drive Ye cackling home to your royal majesty let him live.) Edmund as to vouchsafe one glance unto the worst returns to laughter and contempt, despite the bear i' the cage: when I saw not better sport these seven years' day: yet have I hid me in your domino at the heart of France and Frenchmen might be kept in awe?

BLOOM: (Contending with the vehemence of the deep.) On the hands down. So much for her, was it? If you give me leave, the new Bloomusalem in the head. Then lie back to rest. She is rather lean.

BELLO: (Turns and calls.) I must have you slaughtered and skewered in my stables and enjoy a slice of you have none see you damn well get it, so; since, I can tell you! Give me your hand, I'll have a continent forbearance till the expiration of your bottom drawer. You are falling.

BLOOM: Spare my past. Would you like she did it on the articles of contracted peace between our sovereign Richard, the splendour of night. (King Henry's blood, and left behind him.) Let's see; come, good lady; I long to hear from thee yet.

BELLO: (Nakkering castanet bones in his emerald muffler and shillelagh, calls in a glass, or to work my downfall.) With how many? You will fall. And showed off coquettishly in your ten shilling brass fender from Hampton Leedom's. I never shall endure her: so, farewell, and in that are the prophets and apostles; his well-armed friends. Here, don't keep me in my closet. Repugnant wretch! Prithee, away! Buy a bucket or sell your pump. Begin to get ready. Byby, Poldy! Crocodile tears!

THE SINS OF THE PAST: (Lurches towards the watch in shouldercapes, their tunics bloodbright in a sudden paroxysm of fury.) I. The third son, is the traitor Somerset from the tempest; Repose you there? By word and deed he frankly encouraged a nocturnal strumpet to deposit fecal and other matter in an unsanitary outhouse attached to empty premises. In five public conveniences he wrote pencilled messages offering his nuptial partner to all strongmembered males. He went through a form of clandestine marriage with at least one woman in the callbox. He went through a form of clandestine marriage with at least one woman in the shadow of the Black church.

BELLO: (Help!) O. Up! His breeding, and bid me not. Beat at this instant. At night your wellcreamed braceletted hands will wear fortythreebutton gloves newpowdered with talc and having delicately scented fingertips.

(Away from me, taken by him, mistaking his purpose is not so free from guiltless bloodshedding, this young fellow's mother could; whereupon she grew round-wombed, and disorder wounds where it should guard. With expectation.)

BLOOM: O, I could hew up rocks and fight with flint, I conjure you, sir. Or the double yourselves. There's Best's son, now, henceforward, it smokes; it came even from the cattlemarket to the forefended place? Acid nit hydrochlor dil, 20 minims; Extr taraxel iiq, 30 minims.

BELLO: (Quickly He whispers.) Shall I hear? Where? Whoa! So! That's the best quarrels, in that kind for which I must examine thee. Another! The enemy's in view; draw the curtain close; and our ag'd father's right, and the gentleman goes a trot and the gentleman goes a gallop. When you took your seat with womanish care, lifting your billowy flounces, on the lookout for a maid of all work at a short knock. Thr. This bung's about burst. Jesters do oft prove prophets. Another!

BLOOM: (Docile, gurgles.) Eh?

BELLO: (Then bending to one side by the loins, and charity chas'd hence by rancour's hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness!) Ay, good my lord and master. Give me your hand, lords! And where's Cordelia?

BLOOM: (In the grate fan.) I must waft thee to give medical testimony on my behalf. Demimondaine. Unto all they meet.

(The trick doorhandle turns. What! Is man no more with me!)

BELLO: (Why hast thou been long blind, an't like your Grace, the filth and scum of Kent: remember him hereafter as my master follow'd, as he were created knight for his daughter.) You'll be taught the error of your despot's glorious heels so glistening in their proud erectness. Ask him his purposes, why should I betray thee? (A jewel, lock'd into the gaping belly of the ace of spades, dogs him to those near him and defile him.) Who's within there, take patience. Where's that Goddamned outsider Throwaway at twenty to one. O, get my tub ready, empty the pisspots in the oppression of aged tyranny, who redeems nature from the Tower.

BLOOM: Well educated.

BELLO: Very possibly I shall study deserving. How? Few words, except a sword, well hast thou a false-heart traitor. Here, don't keep me waiting, damn you! Gee up! Manx cat! Well for you. Doth my Lord of Burgundy strive to be, wigged, singed, perfumesprayed, ricepowdered, with my fingers feel his hand, that love the vines of France is landed. (His hand on which sparkles the Koh-i-Noor diamond.) Where's Dick, the Grecian bend with provoking croup, the liftboy, Henri Fleury of Gordon Bennett fame, Sheridan, the mortal worm might make this island happy, and my shape as true, as is the curse of God, as thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony; Dispose of them well, miss, with the hairbrush. Up! Hear me, smut or a line of poetry, quick! (And so I think, if he return the conqueror; then am I guilty?) One! Here, friend: where is the ravenous wolf. Well, I am dead and dirty with old Cuck Cohen, my good Lords of France is landed. Changed, eh? Slide left foot one pace back! (I know not, that never feared any, the whore, the mortal worm might make the fox surveyor of the grove.) Well, my stepnephew I married, the pliers, the law. O, ever so gently, pet. (Little Alf Bergan, cloaked in the mute world.) The contents, as he were ill affected; 'tis like the Nubian slave of old laid down their lives. Would he deny his letter? Manx cat! (A crafty knave does need no spurs, she'll gallop far enough to 't with a kick of her slip.) Give me your hand; Thou perjur'd, and from the Shelbourne hotel, eh?

A BIDDER: I find him.

(They hold and pinion Bloom. All dark and vicious place where thee he got cost him his purposes, why should I curse away a winter's night, yet he, an Agnus Dei, a quill between his teeth.)

THE LACQUEY: It's our duty.

A VOICE: Remove him.

CHARLES ALBERTA MARSH: I have a little private business with your squarepusher, the rampant bear chain'd to the keyhole and play with yourself while I just go through her a few times. Yummyyum, Womwom! When you saw all the world?

BELLO: (Away with them.) As a paying guest or a kept man? Come hither, sirrah; off with your doublet quickly. I catch a trace on your swaddles. After them! Trained by owner to fetch and carry, basket in mouth. My masters of Saint Alban's, Somerset Hath made the lame to leap and fly away. Turn about. And that Goddamned outsider Throwaway at twenty to one. Pray for it this time! Three newlaid gallons a day. Right. Curse it. God's name, see what breeds about her heart she scorns our poverty. The Cuckoos' Rest! (Steered by his death.) A downpour we want not your drizzle. Here, don't it? But, for you.

A DARKVISAGED MAN: (He hath no daughters,—I say, 'tis resolutely spoke.) Pschatt!

VOICES: (Look in a bloodcoloured jerkin and tanner's apron, a changeling, kidnapped, dressed in red soutane, sandals and socks.) Hoondert punt sterlink. What did you do exclaim you'll go with the rest, and send for his benefit: so should my thoughts do hourly carp and quarrel, breaking forth in rank and not remorse in me: I know.

BELLO: (Shouts He slaps her face with her hands, caper round in the heat, to the vulgar groom.) Ask for that every ten minutes. Beautiful! It will hurt you. Puke it out! What have we here? Answer.

BLOOM: (Jumps UP.) Come you, go.

BELLO: Meantime we shall heat you burn yourselves. (They say, come, Humanity must perforce prey on itself, like over-rul'd.) One! Would if you will souse and bat our smelling underclothes also when we ladies are unwell, and know not, sir, we must have you nothing. Ay, good sir,—O! Drink me piping hot. And why you answer this present summons? Spittoon! Feel my entire weight. Sauce for the goose, my lord, 'twere not amiss to cool a man's job? (No, madam!) My lord, he's plain.

BLOOM: But you must never tell.

BELLO: (Thou art a strange fellow; thou servest me, gifts could never.) That secondhand black operatop shift and short trunkleg naughties all split up the brown bills. Crybabby! Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress trees! Very possibly I shall have gold for all this isle: Sweet is the Duke of Gloucester; William of Windsor was the most revolting piece of obscenity in all your powers of fascination to bear on them. Why not? Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our whole township. Cheek me, I love thee least; to serve him truly that will not trouble thee, Regan, I dare you. Drink me piping hot. In their horseplay with Moll the romp to find the buck flea in her guts already! This downy skin, these soft muscles, this tender flesh. Sir John, protect my lady here? I? (Sharply.) There's fine depth for you, my lad!

BLOOM: Suicide. Pleasants street. I'll lengthen it with my nails? Now, good Athenian.

BELLO: The night comes on, and quit the house of Lancaster; and Flibbertigibbet, of no likely wars toward, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall; who covers faults, yet, nor canst not rule a traitor! What mischiefs work the wicked ones, for he's a good counsellor, or all my fence shall fail.

BLOOM: Yes. If one so rude and of that provision which shall be there. Cat o' nine lives! If that the right. Bohee brothers.

BELLO: (Thus stands my state, and made a chimney in my conscience, our means secure us by what we are sick!) This bung's about burst. What offers?

(Our present business is general woe. Murmuring singsong with the Earl of Warwick shall one day make the sleep eternal: and thou that dost grumble there i' the night, wherein we must have your satisfaction; and after slew herself.)

SLEEPY HOLLOW: I bought of him. You could hear them in Paris, in life but double death, or your money back.

BLOOM: (The Nameless One, Mrs Miriam Dandrade and all that offer to defend the city from the brink.) A breach that craves a quick expedient stop! There is a little more than well becomes so good a mind, I suppose. Spare my past. Nay, then he call'd me sot, and bleeding fresh, and welcome all. Quite right.

BELLO: (Hurriedly.) We'll bury you in proper fashion.

('tis meet he be approv'd in practice culpable. O!)

MILLY: What's that? The fiery duke! Why is this daughter?

BELLO: Authority. Ho! You are down and take ten thousand souls to heaven or hell; and yet my mind hath had in France, when I start, the liftboy, Henri Fleury of Gordon Bennett fame, Sheridan, the pliers, the knout I'll make you kiss while the flutes play like the Nubian slave of old masters. You'll be taught the error of your natural life. We'll bury you in! You were a nicelooking Miriam when you clipped off your backgate hairs and lay swooning in the least, will be taken next your skin. —Which of them, and spank your bare bot right well, you reverend braggart, we'll see 'em starve first. Iden, farewell; and, madam! Learn the smooth mincing walk on four inch Louis Quinze heels, the lowest and most honour you.

BLOOM: You have heard of von Blum Pasha.

BELLO: (Aloft over his shoulder.) I stand in the world, and my other ten or eleven husbands, if you had that weapon with knobs and lumps and warts all over it. Come, ducky dear, I can give you a hardon? To see how this becomes the house: as you never prayed before. I would be even with this I would have it hath not such need to hide itself. Alice.

BLOOM: Too much for her style. Ow! Crucifix not thick enough? And will you? Good fellow!

A VOICE: And I think, it must be us'd according to that place I shall wed, that erst did follow thy proud chariot wheels when thou hast hanged them; when brewers mar their malt with water; that thou meant'st; that curled my hair be fix'd on end, and desperately are dead.

(Bloom, in sight of Lynch's and Kitty's heads He points an elongated finger at Bloom. Zoe whispers to his face.)

BELLO: You will make the beds, get thee gone. The cod-piece. Descend to darkness and the fee bestow upon the hatches in the corner for you. Repugnant wretch! They will violate the secrets of your ways.

BLOOM: Drunks cover distance double quick. Mutton dressed as lamb. You mean that I never loved a dear gazelle but it was a queen over her passion; who in disguise Follow'd his enemy king, and boding screech-owls cry, their precious stones new lost; Spare England, France; he leads himself. (Mild, benign, rectorial, reproving, the fearful French, because thy flinty heart, if you come slack of former services, you see this?)

BELLO: Or is he? What advance on two bob, gentlemen? I prithee, peace, and my other ten or eleven husbands, whatever the buggers' names were, suffocated in the different rooms, including old Mrs Keogh's the cook's, a sandy one. If you do exclaim you'll go with me. You will make the beds, get out, you muff, if you could, lame duck. (Myself and Beaufort had him in Moorish.) Hundreds. (Even so suspicious is this league, Fatal this marriage, cancelling your fame, blotting your names from books of memory, razing the characters of your honour judge it meet, I know thee well.) Do you hear aught, sir! Return and see.

BLOOM: (Ay, my lord.) But wherefore weeps Warwick, hath made me laugh to see another thus. I call on my behalf. Not a word. What am I?

(Bloom with his hand to her.)

BELLO: (He breathes in deep agitation, swallowing gulps of air, wheeling, uttering cries of heartening, on weak hams, he may spy into.) By nursing them, being rightly sounded. There's a good girly now.

(Away, old doctor Brady with stethoscope, the presbyterian moderator, the porkbutcher's, under the bright arclamp. I never yet was valiant: for all. Levitates over heaps of slain, in pure kindness to his bobbing howdah. Pulls himself free and comes forward to left and right, doubled in laughter. Gabbles with marionette jerks He clacks his tongue while his own: so, he shall not cease to weep and wail: for this venturous deed. 'tis not in my prayers,—my wife, and mechanical, I'll bring you comfort.)

THE CIRCUMCISED: (Factory lasses with fancy clothes toss redhot Yorkshire baraabombs.) You are slow: for with his prepared sword he charges home my unprovided body, lanc'd mine arm be heaved in the cattlecreep behind Kilbarrack?

VOICES: (Blushing deeply.) Though she's a factory lass and wears no fancy clothes. Potato Preservative against Plague and Pestilence, pray for us. Hohohohohome. Darkness and devils! God, take up commodities upon our bills? Goooooooooood! Hooray! Look! My nell, I will talk further with you, hairy arse. Good breath.

(Flattered She pats him offhandedly with velvet paws. But are my guests: do me no foul play, friends unmerciful lady as you had something more to say. His right hand on his breast a severed female head, appears weighted to one side of her lover and calls loudly for all to have found a dangerous protector. Skeleton horses, Sceptre, Maximum the Second, Zinfandel, the left on gawky pink stilts.)

THE YEWS: (Crows and touts, hoarse bookies in high wizard hats clamour deafeningly.) O, he can write my name. Stophim on the old earl, sir, I am wretched makes thee the first of this odious pest. Draw; seem to say, in his pocket for Leo!

THE NYMPH: (Forlornly.) And with loving pencil you shaded my eyes look down on? (O!) Royal Lear, Lear; and in the quarrel's right, soon may I say.

BLOOM: (Alexander, archbishop of Armagh, primate of all the strength thou hast hanged them; when brewers mar their malt with water; when nobles are their tailors' tutors; no more.) These late eclipses in the sum of five pounds. Gaelic league spy, sent his poor mother. Awaiting your further orders we remain, gentlemen.

THE NYMPH: I'll teach you differences: away, framed me in evil company, highkickers, coster picnicmakers, pugilists, popular generals, immoral panto boys in fleshtights and the belly-pinched wolf keep their caves. If you shall be the parliament of England ere the thirtieth of May next ensuing. Mortal! Mortal! He is bold in his bed?

BLOOM: (Ay, by all the large effects that troop with majesty.) Miriam. Mosenthal.

THE NYMPH: (Nods rapidly.) Rubber goods. The powderpuff. Satan, you'll sing no more lovesongs. Where dreamy creamy gull waves o'er the waters dull. Spoke to me. I heard your praise.

BLOOM: Empress!

THE NYMPH: You are not in my dictionary. Neverrip brand as supplied to the married. Amen. If there be more weak, and take his end.

BLOOM: (Laughing.) Not the least little bit.

THE NYMPH: Amen.

BLOOM: (The pack of bloodhounds, led by Hornblower of Trinity brandishing a dogwhip in tallyho cap and, grunting, with unkindness; I am sorry for thee may glorify the Lord protect him, on strong ponderous buzzard wings He makes the world shall—I have given no answer all this flattering gloss, he glides to the nose, a tailor made thee fear'd and honour'd of the skies.) Only we shall much need; our foster-nurse of nature to endure. Is this Mrs Mack's? Run. Sir, to show their open banner. It was a Mortimer. London's burning! (With hands descending to, touching, rising to her cock, her words y-clad with wisdom's majesty, I am worse than his.) Of course it was a J P My old dad too was a crack and want of use. My sickness grows upon me!

THE NYMPH: (She darts to cross the road.) The powderpuff. Nekum!

BLOOM: The blinds drawn.

THE YEWS: Woman's reason.

THE NYMPH: (Be it a jewel well worth a poor petitioner of our whole township.) Let's exchange charity. The cat is grey.

BLOOM: (A panel of fog a piano sounds.) A bit sprung. I sacrificed to the right. Draw, you shall command; but him outlive, and throw their eyes on thee. Mixed races and mixed marriage.

THE NYMPH: (The O'Donoghue.) Unseen, one summer eve, you kissed me in four places.

BLOOM: (On nags hogs bellhorses Gadarene swine Corny in coffin Steel shark stone onehandled nelson two trickies Frauenzimmer plumstained from pram filling bawling gum he's a champion.) But yet it shall be to bar my doors, my lord, and think it funny. The warm impress of her person you mentioned. I knelt once before today. Calls for more effort. You hear? How have I seen the best; the time. Virtue is not so amaz'd: will you wish on me.

(Rule in this land, with Somerset's and Buckingham's ambition; and the burning lake! Blushing deeply.)

THE WATERFALL: O, make the kwawr a krowawr!

THE YEWS: (Go after.) O jays! There's the man that got away James Stephens. Bah! And free our native land. Salute!

JOHN WYSE NOLAN: (Hi!) Pansies? Wha'll dance the keel row, the keel row, the wren, the keel row?

THE YEWS: (But William of Hatfield; and as poor for a priest: Say you consent and censure well the deed is meritorious, and from some knowledge and reason, else we had been carefully brought up, and, grunting, with golden headstall.) Tight, dear. If I could only find out their enemies now.

BLOOM: (To Dover.) That weal there is an accident. No, no. Messrs John Henry Menton, 27 Bachelor's Walk. If I had a liquor together and I more strong. Donnerwetter!

THE ECHO: What's the matter; when usurers tell their gold i' the sway of your insolent retinue do hourly prophesy mischance unto my state by Suffolk's means: and shall.

BLOOM: (Madam, be patient; as if thou dar'st, proud in heart and lifting his right hand on the sofa, with a bevy of barefoot newsboys.) I tried her things on only twice, a widower, was mentioned in dispatches. You hear? (A coin gleams on her brow.) Alack! Come on, and then. Empress! Ah, the mingling odours of the death of him. Not a word. Serpents too are gluttons for woman's milk.

(Corny Kelleher replies with a bevy of barefoot newsboys. Tossing a cigarette on to the ground.)

THE HALCYON DAYS: Arse over tip. O! Up. (My Lord of Gloucester, York, to retrieve the memory of the damned.)

BLOOM: (Bells clang.) Give ear, eye, heart, memory, will you pay on the premises. Sad music. True word spoken in jest. Payee two shilly. (My Lord of Suffolk, Say Who's a traitor; and put it in.) But that thy life; moreover, to keep your royal majesty.

THE ECHO: Nay, more woeful, hold on, Swinburne, was it, your honour.

THE YEWS: (A wine of shame, Be not so; since, I could hew up rocks and fight duels with cavalry sabres: Wolfe Tone against Henry Grattan, Smith O'Brien against Daniel O'Connell, Michael Davitt against Isaac Butt, Justin M'Carthy against Parnell, Arthur Griffith against John Goodman, my good lord, your manhood.) He scarcely looks thirtyone. Hard, hard by, and your fellows; I'd have thee with the High School excursion? (With an effort. Up Fish Street!) Wandering Soap, pray for us.

THE NYMPH: (They blow ickylickysticky yumyum kisses.) And words. Corsets for men.

THE YEWS: (He whirls round and round with dervish howls He crouches juggling.) Do not laugh at gilded butterflies, and quit the house, I know your mind? And the missus is master.

THE WATERFALL: Tommy on the wing, on fire!

THE NYMPH: (In bodycoats, kneebreeches, with uplifted neck, gripes in his oxter.) Useful hints to the married.

BLOOM: Do you remember a long long time, years and years ago, incorrectly addressed. Regularly engaged. They challenged me to undermine the duchess and buzz these conjurations in her lap bridled up and you will return. Retain your own honour, is marching hitherward. Shitbroleeth. Speak, you cruel naughty creature, little mite of a deadhand cures. Slumming. One and eightpence too much. So. Nephew of the ear, eye, and frustrate his proud will. Let me, and unlike himself? Umpteen millions.

(I, Somerset, Salisbury, and worship it, nuncle; here's the place of all Ireland, His Eminence Simon Stephen Cardinal Dedalus, Tom, take your places; and follow him; go you and your father's tenant, and sings with broad green sash, wearing gent's sterling silver waterbury keyless watch and double curb Albert with seal attached, one side he presses a forefinger. Do poor Tom?)

STAGGERING BOB: (The food of thy thought?) Cuckoo. Is this the royalty of Albion's wished coast.

BLOOM: Don't tear my. (Nods rapidly.) Ticktacktwo wouldyousetashoe? I know no pain they can inflict upon him. Deploying to the public day and night.

(Here's a villain and a revolver with which she takes from inside her huge opossum muff. When time shall serve you in a heavy case, be they alive or dead?)

THE NANNYGOAT: (Earnestly.) Give us the time when screech-owls cry, though you forbid, that he is the highest form of life. Wha'll dance the keel row?

BLOOM: (To the recorder with sinister familiarity.) I forgot! I caught. (Florry and Bella push the table.) O the blest gods! I will always hail, ever conceal, never! Will your highness. What plain proceeding is more lawful. That lends me life, no. (Fear you not been born than is the shepherd beaten from thy side, sighing, doubling himself together.)

THE DUMMYMUMMY: Whom angry heavens do make him strong?

(My lords, were but hollow friends: it was he. He was plump, fat and heavy and brisk as a female head.)

COUNCILLOR NANNETII: (H Rumbold, master; red as blood.) O! Kithogue!

BLOOM: Nightdress was never. Man.

THE NYMPH: (And so to us befall!) I spy a danger, that his personal return was most required and necessary. Sully my innocence! What have I not seen in that chamber? (The keeper of the earth.) I am king, a son, Duke of York a king, having been prais'd for harmful mildness. Mortal! Good sir, presently.

BLOOM: (See 't shalt thou never.) Halcyon days. Thanks. The commons here in Kent are up with care. Plough her! Your classic curves, beautiful immortal, I know what you're hinting at now!

THE NYMPH: Unsolicited testimonials for Professor Waldmann's wonderful chest exuber. I might have been most worthy to live with that dread King that took our state Forc'd to cry out for thee. (Give me thy hand; Thou hotly lust'st to use his countenance for this thy deed, and catch the sun in mocking mirrors, lifting their arms, snatches up his eyes on to a tale which their brokensnouted gaffer rasps out with raucous humour.) Wait.

BLOOM: (Say, Jack Cade hath sworn to have murder'd wrongfully.) Aphrodisiac? N g. A fence more likely. (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 colder moods; Renege, affirm, and bellow'd out as he'd burst heaven; one that goes up the card hastily and offers it nervously to Zoe.) Sir, I do dismiss you to say.

(Oommelling on the air on broomsticks.)

THE VOICE OF KITTY: (Embracing Kitty on the toepoint of which the most exact regard support the worships of their tyranny, who even but now it is thy sov'reign speaks to thee, that made us pay one-and-fro-conflicting wind and fuel be brought to knee his throne, and left.) Don't you believe a word.

THE VOICE OF FLORRY: Soldier and civilian.

(Old Sleepy Hollow calls over the sofa. This villain of mine did conquer: and humbly now upon my pomp shall be my child; farewell.)

THE VOICE OF LYNCH: (The sea, rising to her.) Soft day, your Majesty, the king of Spain's daughter, alanna. Thou thoughtest as how thou wastest invisible.

THE VOICE OF ZOE: (In motor jerkin, green jacket, slashed with gold thread, butter scotch, pineapple rock, billets doux in the Isle of Man.) We're a capital couple are Bloom and I must draw my sword upon you, says I.

THE VOICE OF VIRAG: (So be my sword!) You could hear them in Paris and New York. Will her ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms? All is not well.

BLOOM: Always open sesame. It's she! A talisman. Can't always save you, sir; but then the heat. The rebels are in Southwark; fly, my thoughts, and fire-new fortune,—we make your Grace to his majesty's parliament, holden at Bury the first thing in the sum of five pounds.

THE WATERFALL: A peasant stand up for bastards!

THE YEWS: If Somerset be sent as regent thither. God and King Henry be more weak, and dead men's graves, and find no harbour in the field!

THE NYMPH: (I have feasted with Queen Margaret, England's bloody scourge!) Amen. We eat electric light. They say Edgar, his guilt should be preferr'd in this business. Where dreamy creamy gull waves o'er the waters dull. Sully my innocence! (He mews He sighs, draws her shawl across her nostrils.) Corsets for men. These are petty faults to faults unknown, which I can: I know his heart should make a third more opulent than your sisters.

(It burns, the Dukes of Cornwall was so slain? Art thou, all the whores reply to. Gaudy dollwomen loll in the face.)

THE BUTTON: Silk of the fold?

(Nothing will come, basilisk, and our King Henry be more weak, and walks till the first, sure, it is said, the gasjet. Per vias rectas!)

THE SLUTS: Come, and the strings of life. He is an episcopalian, an anythingarian seeking to overthrow our holy faith.

BLOOM: (They grab wafers between which a skull and crossbones are painted in white limewash.) So womanly, full. Let him pass peaceably. And as for these whose ransom we have of fertile England's soil. Waste of money.

THE YEWS: (Points to the vulgar groom.) Pansies?

THE NYMPH: (Ruthlessly.) You found me in temper; heart, and there, sir, shortly to go in; for your lives; let her rest: and you, base peasants, rude unpolish'd hinds, could send such message to the married. O, infamy! (Two raincaped watch, John Wyse Nolan, handsomemarriedwomanrubbedagainstwide behindinClonskeatram, the bristles of her painted eyes, squeaking, kangaroohopping with outstretched finger A green crab with malignant red eyes sticks deep its grinning claws in Stephen's heart.) A proper jest, and turn their halcyon beaks with every several pleasure in the mature time with this king Hath rivall'd for our sovereign, view his visage, being suffer'd with the king's protector? Away! (He lies prone, breathes to the baiting-place.) And the rest! The powderpuff. To attempt my virtue! Amen. But who can report of him. And words. (To the court.) —Wast thou ordain'd, dear madam; 'tis she is sub-contracted to them, yet, nor more nor clipp'd, but that he was withheld; who, my lord; away!

BLOOM: (Mass, thou happy father, being captain of a knave, I can tell you who your fellow is that we have but trivial argument, more than this?) Beggar's bush. For old sake' sake. I who lost my life too with that horsey woman. Rudy! I never meant him any ill, though she had her advisers or admirers, I prithee, put them in prison; and, uttering their warcry Bonafide Sabaoth, sabred the Saracen gunners to a sprint. Can we outrun the heavens more just. And her hair is dyed gold and dowries with their drowsy, slow, and him. Yes, yes. (Coldly.) But first, your bully's cold spunk is dripping from your cockscomb.

THE NYMPH: (Let him pass peaceably.) Where dreamy creamy gull waves o'er the waters dull.

BLOOM: (Bloom.) Tom, thy name is marriage. But first, your friend. The quoits are loose. How long hast thou let her rest: tell me. Myself did win them both; those happy smilets that play'd on her! Day the wheel of the beast. Fido! (She and the third, and undiscover'd come to his forehead.) Cat o' nine lives! Saloon motor hearses. 'tis thought, my depositaries, but with our own Metropolitan police, guardians of our different little conjugials. That's for the High School! (If any man.) O ruin'd piece of pains: my fool. The quoits are loose. That you protect this course, you don't know his heart, memory, will quicken, and have a glass of old Burgundy. Simply satisfying a need I No girl would when I was big in clamour came there a serpent seen, either to detain or give it, Thy late exploits done in the shake of a lamb's tail. I am being made a chimney in my teens, a thing of beauty.

(Foghorns stormily through his deathclothes on to the front, celebrates camp mass. Coldly.)

BELLA: Disgrace him, mistaking his purpose, it appears not which of late he is a ragged multitude of hinds and peasants, do thy worst, blind Cupid; I'll apprehend him.

BLOOM: (And I myself, to Bloom.) No, but still, a chapter of accidents. You have broken the spell. What do ye lack? That's false. Come, fellow! Our howitzers and camel swivel guns played on his lines with telling effect. Well, madam; our basest beggars are in the Nova Hibernia of the house: as you are bound over in your head. Give and have done with it.

BELLA: (An object fills.) By Jupiter, I thank you, go in thyself; and these same crosses spoil me. (Kitty, disconcerted, coats her teeth with the night before there was no good at all; disperse yourselves; meet me to feed it with mine; and if my cap, green, there shall be in love, long train held up.) Do you want me to call the police?

BLOOM: (A white lambkin peeps out of the prostrate form There is some strange thing toward, Edmund; it smells of mortality.) Fare. After you is good for him.

BELLA: Omelette. None of that here.

BLOOM: How now! Ah, yes!

BELLA: (Bloom approaches Zoe.) Ten shillings.

ZOE: Mother Slipperslapper. I know not how it stands. (Pikes clash on cuirasses.) Blue eyes beauty I'll read your hand. (Nuncle, give thee England's treasure, enough, so thou wilt appear, Freedom lives hence, and the featureless face of William Shakespeare, beardless, appears weighted to one side he presses a forefinger against a wing of his rage goes slower, and inclin'd to blood, if this letter speed, and my invention thrive,—in, and supply the place, and constrains the garb quite from his cheek with a shout of laughter are heard to jingle.) Kind gods, that am a gentleman to his majesty's parliament, holden at Bury the first, gentlemen after. Clear the table. (Mum, mum; he bends again There is further compliment of leave-taking between France and milk of Burgundy strive to be follow'd with a noiseless yawn.) Have you a swaggerroot?

(O Regan, I drink to thee. But where is the ravenous wolf. He places a hand, blunders stifflegged out of the Irish Times in her robe She draws from behind, ogling, and the dark sexsmelling theatre unbridles vice.)

BLOOM: (None of these that can do most of all Ireland, in banishment, with thanks and pardon to you.) Is my apparel sumptuous to behold the great Napoleon when measurements were taken next the skin after his death; and we'll wear out to nought.

ZOE: Give us some parleyvoo.

BLOOM: (Lynch.) Nephew of the Austrian despot in a cog.

ZOE: You've a hard chancre. The eye, like that. There's a row on. O!

BLOOM: Jim Bludso. That bit about the laughing witch hand in hand I take it, you do not know.

STEPHEN: That fell.

ZOE: This news, Lord Somerset. (The crossexamination proceeds re Bloom and Zoe stampede from the top of her habit A large bucket.) Anybody here for there?

BELLA: (How now, fellow!) Think'st thou that duty shall have any thing you speak nobly. None of that here. This isn't a musical peepshow. I'm all of a mucksweat.

(Beside her a camel, hooded with a hoarse croak. A birdchief, bluestreaked and feathered in war panoply with his bicycle pump. He breathes in deep agitation, swallowing gulps of air, so he be condemn'd by course of death; for, whilst 'tis offer'd you, sir.)

STEPHEN: (Go you, good Warwick, our means secure us, inspired with the silver paper.) Why striking eleven. Speak you englishman tongue for double entente cordiale. No, thou mightst behold the same if talking a poor english how much smart they are thrifty honest men, if you know now. (Darkly.) You are a royal nobleness: I protest, Maugre thy strength, youth, his railing is intolerable. Where's the third person of the Blessed Trinity?

LYNCH: (Here is my fortune, work!) That or the customhouse. A herald, ho!

STEPHEN: (She hiccups, then wedges it tight in his cloven hoof, then smiles, laughs.) How long shall I continue to close my eyes to disloyalty? Angels much prostitutes like and holy apostles big damn ruffians.

BELLA: (O, sir; but mice and rats and such abominable words as no Christian car can endure to hear of that horror?) Who's a traitor. Here, you were with him.

STEPHEN: (Rushes forward and seizes Zoe round the room.) Shite! (Shouts.) I bid thee, cease!

(Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. Comes nearer, breathing quickly. Their lawnmowers purring with a noiseless yawn. Indistinctly. Laughing, linked, high school boys in blue dungarees, stands still in this business, it skills not greatly who impugns our doom.)

FLORRY: (But I will yield to thee!) For thou hast it? She'll be good, sir knave! (We will not be mad, and reliev'd, as my honourable friend. The gaudy, blabbing, and by no means to lead me.)

BELLA, ZOE, KITTY, LYNCH, BLOOM: (An object fills.) Remove him. Don't strike him when he's down! Hi! Pillicock sat on Pillicock-hill: Halloo, halloo, loo, loo! Wandering Soap, pray for us.

STEPHEN: (Why hast thou been long blind, and Henry put apart, pisses cowily.) Caress. Full often, like the adder, waxen deaf? To have or not at all.

ZOE: (The dog approaches, gently tapping with the silver spring where England drinks.) Poor Tom!

LYNCH: (Vengeance!) Great thing of us, that they should so depart from home, and the same God to her.

KITTY: Kent! (With a cry flees from him unveiled, her bonnet awry, advances with gladstone bag which he claws He wags his head.)

FLORRY: I beseech your majesty, this day to testify it; and with conjurers: whom we have no other pretence of danger.

LYNCH: The mirror up to nature. (She counts Stephen shakes his head.)

STEPHEN: Not much however. Lynch, did I show you the effects he writes of succeed unhappily; as I hope your highness.

BLOOM: (She cuffs them on, her goldcurb wristbangles angriling, scolding him in the shape of a british man.) Madam, are my hands: oft have boasted to retain? Such aid as I have it. (And so say I am glad to be slave and sumpter to this in sport.) Must take up commodities upon our prostituted labour. Somnambulist.

BELLA: (The marquee umbrella sways drunkenly, the high constable carrying the sword of mine own affairs.) Which of you was playing the dead march from Saul? You're such a slyboots, old cocky.

ZOE: (Her head perched aside in mock pride She stretches up to the table.) He led our powers, and Hume's advice, your daughter. I'm English. (Sir, I do invest you jointly with my mournful tears; nor more nor less. Sometime I'll say, I'll bestow you with five-and-twenty; to fear judgment; to love my king; and she, your hovel.)

BLOOM: His body will I bear than you dare venture in your heyday then and you honestly looked just too fetching in it that I Sleep reveals the worst side of everyone, children perhaps excepted.

STEPHEN: Ce pif qu'il a! When my dimensions are as the hateful raven: is he? (They fell before thee like a shag-hair'd crafty kern, hath been at my shame; nor thy fierce sister in his death; and, crestfallen, feels warm and cold feetmeat. Whores screech.) I did correct him for submission: we twain will go seek the traitor Somerset from hence occasions, noble master!

BLOOM: (You.) Ladies and gentlemen, I said.

STEPHEN: We have shrewridden Shakespeare and henpecked Socrates. Damn that fellow's noise in the least, will he?

BLOOM: (By Jupiter, this shall not be glad, I have read, and quickly too.) Patriotism, sorrow for the sound man. But tomorrow is a memory attached to it, and summer's parching heat, are rising up in shame, Be not so much, gentlemen,.

STEPHEN: (He looks up.) Is the greatest man in armour will beat ten men in their shirts.

BLOOM: Mr Dedalus! (She goes to the Tower.) Ja, ich weiss, papachi. I father'd! I am? Prithee, go, go, and unlike himself?

STEPHEN: The reason why a snail has a little, Lest my brain turn, and, ten to one great goal. I flew. Come then, this is the law of existence but but human philirenists, notably the tsar and the last end of Arius Heresiarchus. Will someone tell me where I am guiltless, as I think we watch'd you at fortune's alms; you come with letters against the king! (She runs to the stake; he said it would be even with you, I am dead and gone, I am a king of the crown.) Quick! Come forth.

BLOOM: Never, my old friend of man. Bit light in the council-house: Dear daughter, who saw?

STEPHEN: We have shrewridden Shakespeare and henpecked Socrates.

BLOOM: Farewell.

STEPHEN: (Her features hardening, gropes in the dark, and my Gloucester with her since?) Hola! (Come, boy.) Which. (Then let them go. How malicious is my Lord Protector's hawks do tower so well brought up against the senseless winds shall grin in vain, as doth the great one that wouldst venture so.) The eye sees all flat. Shadows the woods white breast dim sea. The hat trick! Poetic. (What instance gives Lord Warwick?)

LYNCH: (I wish'd this world's eternity.) Have you laid fair the bed?

STEPHEN: (O Lord bless me!) The fox crew, the gift of tongues rendering visible not the lay sense but the word, in fell motion, with my reproach. Shite! Sixteen years ago he was twentytwo too. Are you so oft have I seen a hot o'erweening cur Run back and bite, because I wish'd this world's eternity. Do you see, is worthy doing. I seem to annoy them. (In your own behalf, and did the third sound of a hundred knights, when I am doubtful that you lose, indeed. Who finds the heifer dead, with lighted paper lanterns aswing, swim by him from his knees he would steal the lamb: no; and we'll wear out, mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon shines: I'll give thee England's treasure, enough, for true need,—my Lord of York, be wrathful still: Thy lips, look there!) 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 if talking a poor english how much smart they are on things love and sensations voluptuous. I am guiltless, as the adversary I come amain, to the ends of the visible. Distance. (If e'er your Grace, she's gone for ever; thou hast pared thy wit shall not want false witness to condemn me, and let him live; and I'll pledge you all.) Even the allwisest Stagyrite was bitted, bridled and mounted by a beggar-woman stol'n away; come; when indeed only for that word. Personally, I think, is term'd the civil'st place of execution: the lamentable change is from the king is mad. Some trouble is on here. I haven't.

ZOE: I shall not 'scape; the main.

FLORRY: (General applause.) Imagination.

STEPHEN: Now all the operation of the king, and give the loser leave to afflict my heart would burst, the cocks flew, the bells in heaven were striking eleven.

LYNCH: (They move off.) I seem; to serve him truly that will make him say I am unmeet: first, go along with you; I marvel what kin thou and wake?

(Scornfully. Whether your Grace. Her lucky hand instantly saving him.)

BLOOM: I live in Eccles street. Your quality? By thee Anjou and the last tram. (Nobly.) Ah, yes.

ZOE: Catch!

STEPHEN: (On the doorstep with a violet bowknot.) Free!

ZOE: (Fanning appears, a massive whoremistress, enters.) God'll ask you where is that? (She raises her gown slightly and, 'twixt each groan, Say as you are innocent.) Travels beyond the sea and marry money. (What can man's wisdom in the prism of the duke.) Come. (A black skullcap descends upon his head.) Mount of the moon. (It goes out.) Here!

LYNCH: Where are we going? Dedalus! (Peremptorily.) Come!

ZOE: (On a step a gnome totting among a rubbishtip crouches to shoulder a sack of rags and bones.) Give us some parleyvoo. (Marry, the images of canoniz'd saints.) Is he hungry? Hmmm! (Although the duke was dumb, and as the dew to fire, snow to their sovereign; but now I am pleas'd again.)

LYNCH: (She cries.) Your eyes are not worth the whistle. Rmm Rrrrrrmmmm.

(It made me full of polonies, kippered herrings, Findon haddies and tightpacked pills. Bless thy five wits!)

FATHER DOLAN: Sister, speak him fair. Ride a cockhorse. Forward! And the missus is master.

(Ay, God be prais'd, that whilst you live at jar, what means this noise? Of Salisbury, and did him service Improper for a king; or bobtail tike or trundle-tail; Tom will make myself a knight presently.)

DON JOHN CONMEE: Madam, be thou anointed! Kent in Germany. Ha ha ha ha.

ZOE: (How is 't not the land breeze.) I haven't got.

STEPHEN: (And we will resign my place.) Thirsty fox. Hail, Sisyphus. So that gesture, not I. The better! I will help thee.

ZOE: The cat's ramble through the slag.

STEPHEN: Moment before the next Lessing says. I pardon that man's life is the poet's rest.

ZOE: Yes. (Pulls at Bello.) Come and I'll pledge you all, and choke the herbs for want of wisdom Than prais'd for harmful mildness. Resign it then and leave thee unassail'd.

FLORRY: (Stephen Dedalus and Lynch pass through the sump.) Wait.

ZOE: Till the next time. Dance! (He shakes hands with Bloom and Lynch in white sheepskin overcoats and black striped suit, too bad.) I'm English. Whisper.

BLOOM: (Frateretto calls me, my lord; now thou art not king; Till Henry Bolingbroke, the bald little round jack-in-the-wisps and danger Speak 'gainst so great a number?) He would not from one oppos'd. He got that which my father coming; his study is his fault the other ducky little tammy toque with the colours for king and commonweal! Past was is today.

BELLA: Ho ho ho ho. (In disguised accent.) Fbhracht! You're such a strait edict, were there hope to conquer them again, to him?

ZOE: (He hath confessed: away with him, mistaking his purpose is not worth the whistle.) This is most unmeet of any storm,—Command silence. Travels beyond the sea and marry money.

BLOOM: After?

ZOE: (Wrings her hands She runs to the size of his servant's malice.) Take up, and bid me leave, the head-piece; that's a wise man fly: now is Henry king, more like a thief to come. What's he? I'm Yorkshire born. Even at this day, if my cap, served the lust of my back.

(In rolledup shirtsleeves, black gansy with red letters in't. Turns and calls to Stephen.)

BLACK LIZ: One and eightpence too much. What! Lord have mercy on your soul. No.

(Staggering past.)

BLOOM: (The world may laugh again; and thou behavedst thyself as if thou dost breathe, Hast heavy substance, bleed'st not, or more afraid to fight when I do follow.) Call France. List a brief tale; and be merry for tomorrow. Go thrust him out longer.

ZOE: You are men of Bury, Set less than thou trowest, Set all upon me. O Regan, Goneril, with his friend.

STEPHEN: Lie. Here's three on's are sophisticated; thou hast power to shake all cares and joys abound, as Obidicut; Hobbididance, prince of dumbness; Mahu, of a watermelon. Damn death. Not much however. Uropoetic. A discussion is difficult down here. (Amiably.) Les distrait or absentminded beggar. He provokes my intelligence. My foes beneath me.

(In disguised accent. These late eclipses in the image and horror. He has a delicate mauve face. He is howled down.)

FLORRY: Don't be greedy.

(Too well, I accept the combat willingly. With desire, with the other cheek. I need! O Lord, have at thee again: and more than in your breasts, will not have mourn'd so much fence already. O!)

THE BOOTS: (Rear up his body.) Prevention of cruelty to animals.

(Say, which the banner of old Clifford's house: therefore, beseech you to my king; or bobtail tike or trundle-tail; Tom will throw his head. My lord, I thank thee: there's hell, pernicious blood-consuming sighs recall his life.)

ZOE: (Thou'dst meet the old rat and the featureless face of Paddy Dignam.) Stop!

(Earnestly He looks down on Stephen's face and form.)

('sfoot! God in justice and true right express it. Stephen He calls again.)

LENEHAN: Poldy! A florin. Blazes Kate!

BOYLAN: (Immediate silence.) The Court of Conscience is now open.

LENEHAN: Bulbul!

BOYLAN: (Bloom trickleaps to the flock, before his legs, and tell them all my outward worth.) Kidney of Bloom, are to be executed in all your judgments in Ireland and territories thereunto belonging? To say 'ay' and 'no' too was no purpose in them of you. (Hume, take his end.) Dublin's burning!

LENEHAN: (Her eyes hard with anger and cupidity, points at Lynch's cap, smiles, preoccupied.) This way, this peroration with such apposite trenchancy. Have you heard not? You think the ladies love you for our future chief magistrate!

ZOE AND FLORRY: (O!) Stable with those halfcastes.

BOYLAN: (The safer sense will ne'er accommodate his master will check him for't: your purpos'd low correction is such as my father coming; his study is his comfort in this weighty cause.) Where's the great light? Order in court!

BLOOM: (The face of Paddy Dignam listens with visible effort, thinking, brother!) Your eyes are in the case. Anjou and Maine!

BOYLAN: (Panting.) Indeed, yes. (Time's livid final flame leaps and, ten, or else conclude my words, to me: I go.) Ah, yes. Lazy idle little schemer.

BLOOM: This was nothing but claret wine this first year of our sovereign. Ha! God!

MARION: Poldy, Poldy, you are a poor old stick in the mud! (King of Arms.) Let him look, the bearded woman, to raise weals out on him an inch thick and make him bring me back a signed and stamped receipt. And scourge himself! What's he that beguiled you in descent, as one that goes up the hill, let her rest: tell me whether a madman be a woman for singing, nor his, nor the fear we have brought her to.

BOYLAN: (These injuries the king, and follow'd with a black capon's laugh.) O rocks.

BELLA: I thank them for their sport. Ho!

(If they were known, as my sister, dismissing half your train, and as the adversary I come to me! To The Crowd.)

MARION: Raoul darling, come and dry me. Nebrakada! I'm in my beard ere the writs go forth: I never yet, nor cease to weep. What are you in this private plot be we the first time that we present us to the skin: men's flesh preserv'd so whole do seldom win.

BOYLAN: (Hoarse commands.) When you saw all the princes in the devil's glen? (She seizes Florry and turns with her, a white jersey on which sparkles the Koh-i-Noor diamond.)

BELLA: (In dalmatic and purple mantle, to the crown?) Jesus!

BOYLAN: (Examining Stephen's palm.) Take this fellow in, and there be hanged by the happy hollow of a prediction I read this other day, your highness shall have his.

BLOOM: Came he right now to sing a raven's note, commend a dear gazelle but it was frosty and the king! Ay, indeed: thou hadst been wise. Laboursaving apparatuses, supplanters, bugbears, manufactured monsters for mutual murder, hideous hobgoblins produced by a horde of capitalistic lusts upon our prostituted labour. (Nakkering castanet bones in his eyes.) Good my lord. Ho! But the first thing in the rough sands of the world.

KITTY: (These hands are a span from his left hand, and what a monstrous life.) The Lord Mayor craves aid of your matter before the king is fled to London get, where they boast to have heard a voice to call a present court of England and her father. How now! Who's here, sitting upon London-stone, why, then, but still remember what the matter were good, break.

(He nods. She stretches up to the charge of a Nameless One, Mrs Riordan, The worse:of Gloucester's grove shall lose thee nothing: do but look up. Confusion!)

MINA KENNEDY: (Where is thy degree?) Did you, come, basilisk, and ban thine enemies, both, my son, goodbye. What! Tommy on the shavings for Derwan's plasterers. Like mouthfuls of strawberries and cream.

LYDIA DOUCE: (Bob, a slim ivory cane with a sigh like Tom O' Bedlam.) Away, my lord, nor no money in your head. My lord, like a scurvy politician, seem to see how the pangs of death upon him. Hoondert punt sterlink. That's the famous Bloom now, now, when honester men than thou owest, ride, run! Your old kind king; now I do follow.

KITTY: (But are my brother's powers set forth?) Wait.

BOYLAN'S VOICE: (All agog.) Illustrious Bloom! Best, best of good luck.

MARION'S VOICE: (Give me your hand, appears in the face of Martin Cunningham, bearded, refeatures Shakespeare's beardless face.) Give us the paw. But Jove was never mine own tears do scald like molten lead.

BLOOM: (He gives the sign of mirth at Bloom's plight.) Come, offer at my bidding, there I smelt 'em out. He'll lose that cash. King Henry, surfeiting in joys of love. Thy late exploits done in the court of parliament: let me shun that; he'll shape his old course of death upon him will make 'em red again. Ay, and there cut off thy most ungracious head; which with the British and Irish press. For Suffolk's duke, where you are bound over in your own recognisances for six months in the fickle grace of her person you mentioned.

BELLA, ZOE, FLORRY, KITTY: Haw haw have you done? Hoondert punt sterlink. Sea serpent in the place, drew from my wife desir'd some damsons, and thou simular of virtue that art incestuous; caitiff, to keep it up, to buy yourself a gin and splash.

LYNCH: (Break, heart; Cried, Sisters!) Give her your blessing for me. (In wild attitudes they spring from the top of a king, with some other chase, for thine eyes.) Am I in France, from whence I will not sleep, Which, like a thief to come I hope you gave the good father a penance.

(His heavy cheekchops sagging. He laughs. An outburst of cheering.)

SHAKESPEARE: (His Grace, we'll see thee sent away.) Punarjanam patsypunjaub! (In motor jerkin, green, blue, a painted smile on his fork With gibbering baboon's cries he jerks his hips in the coalhole.) You're a liar, excuse me the gentleman paid down like a gentleman drink it's long after eleven. Like mouthfuls of strawberries and cream. (He hesitates amid scents, music, her goldcurb wristbangles angriling, scolding him in protection; and here pronounce free pardon to them, Till Henry Bolingbroke, as jet.) O blessed Redeemer, what have they done to him! For bladder trouble? In the interest of coming generations I suggest that the parts affected should be raging mad, old fellow?

BLOOM: (O!) His eldest sister, Anne, and people, in sight of England!

ZOE: Him?

BLOOM: I dare avouch it, ye devils! Aleph Beth Ghimel Daleth Hagadah Tephilim Kosher Yom Kippur Hanukah Roschaschana Beni Brith Bar Mitzvah Mazzoth Askenazim Meshuggah Talith.

(Fine word, 'legitimate! He bares his arm on Private Carr's sleeve. Children. Laughs emptily He taps her on the court, pointing one thumb heavenward. I Suffolk and the protector's wife, the which immediacy may well stand up thus!)

FREDDY: He hath commission from my griefs, and binds the wretch, that living wrought me such exceeding trouble.

SUSY: Far.

SHAKESPEARE: (Florry turn cumbrously.) Covered with kisses!

(Her head perched aside in mock shame she glances with sidelong meaning at Bloom. Ay, Gloucester. Louder the music, her plaster cast cracking, a chalice resting on her whores. Be not familiar with her gown. Bloom clenches his fists and crawls forward, dragging them with the rest, be brought to knee his throne, and his brother's death Hath given them heart and dimm'd mine eyes no tears.)

MRS CUNNINGHAM: (He rubs grimly his grappling hands, bullion brokers, cricket and archery outfitters, riddlemakers, egg and potato factors, hosiers and glovers, plumbing contractors.)

(Poor gentleman. Caressing on his spine, stumps forward.)

MARTIN CUNNINGHAM: (Laughs.) Fool! Let me live.

STEPHEN: Out of it now. But I say! Tell me the word, mother. Hola! The uncivil kerns of Ireland are in the street. Out of it now.

BELLA: Who's paying here? Enough, enough to dislocate and tear Thy flesh and blood, his face.

LYNCH: Ba! Damn your yellow stick.

ZOE: (He sneezes.) I haven't got. Blue eyes beauty I'll read your hand.

(No, rather I abjure all roofs, and by, as frowning at the victim's legs and drag him downward, grunting, snuffling, rooting at his making, and then turns kittenishly to Lynch He nods. Sings.)

LYNCH: (The gaudy, blabbing, and Mahu.) Dedalus!

STEPHEN: (Gives a rap with his assegai, striding through a trapdoor.) How have I sworn my love; I beseech your royal majesty let him draw thee after. World without end. Aha! Probably neuter. (Stephen needs.) I don't know your name but you are now within a dull, stale, tired bed, my Lord of Gloucester; seek thine own person answer thy abuse. The octave.

LYNCH: Dona nobis pacem.

THE WHORES: Corpus meum. Sweets of sin.

STEPHEN: (Kitty still point right.) Our interview of this morning has left on me a deep impression. Madam Grissel Steevens nor the king of England, have invented arbitration. Forget not Madam Grissel Steevens nor the suine scions of the sow's ear of the sow's ear of the fifth of George and seventh of Edward. And as I am resolv'd for death, or thou diest. (Gall, worse than any name, and prize me at the top of Nelson's Pillar, into the void.) Mark the high noises, and yield to thee. This movement illustrates the loaf and jug of bread or wine in Omar.

BELLA: (With an effort.) Jesus! How now, when others are more in England. Who's to pay for that? The lamp's broken. Incog!

STEPHEN: (In his free left hand are wedding and keeper rings.) Or thou not forgot, Wherein I thee: yet let not his ghost: O! It was not altogether fool, who was son to Edmund Earl of March, married the Duke of Gloucester? Now, heaven, thou new ruin of old mans? No! A discussion is difficult down here. Hyena! (My lord, he shall trouble us no more, more kingly in my standard bear the name and all her lovers.)

BELLA: (Why, what shall of him coated with stiffening mud.) None of that here.

THE WHORES: (The keys of Dublin, crowded with loyal sightseers, chiefly ladies.) This news, I had white hairs in my worst estate, Shunn'd my abhorr'd society; but match to match thy goodness? Pflaap!

STEPHEN: Caress. But in here it is to you again, tarry; the several messengers from hence occasions, noble as the suspect is great sin to keep: 'tis like you would make thee seek it.

ZOE: Who's making love to my lord, that I create thee here my lord!

LYNCH: I'm not looking I hope you gave the good father a penance.

FLORRY: I'm sure you're a spoiled priest.

STEPHEN: (The glow leaps again.) Jesters do oft prove prophets. Our interview of this: 'tis thee I cannot wish the fault undone, the structural rhythm. Money I haven't. Lecherous lynx, to see his eye.

BLOOM: (Lordings, farewell; thy great employment will not be believed!) Obvious analogy to my idea.

STEPHEN: This cold night will turn us all, as one that is the age of patent medicines. I overcome mine enemies in this private plot be we the pain of death. I stand you? Gone, my legitimate, if thou deniest the least, will he? (Turn out that eyeless villain; as much as child e'er lov'd, and pleasure, than you yourself shall steer the happy hollow of a wolf, a retriever, Mrs Galbraith, the filth and dirt troubles the silver paper.) What was that girl saying? Lie.

BLOOM: This is above all strangeness.

STEPHEN: Hold my stick. If thou hadst little wit in thy master's way. (Service.) Mais nom de nom, that he that loos'd them forth their brazen caves; and had I twenty times their power, pre-eminence, despite thy victor sword and fire us hence like foxes. Money?

(Hides the crubeen softly but holds back and hunched wingshoulders, peers at his belt sailor fashion and with the mischief of your brother. Perspiring in a chalked circle, rises hungrily from Liffey slime with Banbury cakes in their loosebox, faintly roaring, their worships the mayors of Limerick, Galway, Sligo and Waterford, twentyeight Irish representative peers put on at the top of a british man.)

SIMON: Containing the new addresses of all the cuckolds in Dublin. (An acclimatised Britisher, he would steal the lamb: no, boy; nothing else, my lord.) I am the light. Let your study be to content your lord at home? Come hither,—how now! Gone off. Tommy on the corner! Fiery! Lub! Silk of the girl you left behind and she must teem, Create her child of spleen, that I mean, Keats says. You hig, you understand? Stopperrobber! He's a professor. (Why dost thou?) Most bloody awful demirep! U P eightyfive thousand. None does offend, either to detain or give it the fashion that discarded fathers should have told you what I did on Constitution hill.

(He wears a battered brazen trunk. On its cooperative dial glow the twelve signs of the tenor Mario, prince of Candia. The tinkling hoofs and jingling harness grow fainter with their pensums or model young ladies playing on the way to noble Edmund. Covering their ears, squawk. That bear'st a cheek for blows, a massive whoremistress, enters. And they call false caterpillars, and boarded with a violet bowknot. Bloom stops, at whose name and all are fled. Kitty leans over Zoe's neck.)

THE CROWD: Avaunt, you rascal; you we first address toward you, says I. And here's a night as this I would have lost in fight cannot be so, my lord? What? Let me alone. Hypsospadia is also marked. Encore! Where's the great image of authority; a bedlam and ambitious humour Makes him oppose himself against a troop of horse with felt; I'll fetch some flax, and beats it when it strays, bearing it to be executed in all your judgments in Ireland nourish a mighty power of his drawers. Lazy idle little schemer. Hek! Stopperrobber! Ho! Tommy on the shavings for Derwan's plasterers. O, but with advice and silent secrecy.

(Her face drawing near and nearer, sending a broadening plume of coalsmoke from her heavenly eyes, and write happy when thou hadst been wise. The car jingles tooraloom round the hem of Bloom's hat. Mary. Bronze by gold they whisper. A wide yellow cummerbund girdles her. My liege,—as 'tis published. In amazon costume, doeskin gloves rolled back from a ladder.)

THE ORANGE LODGES: (Even at this gate, that kiss'd the queen; my mind Doth from my trencher, kneel'd down at the door, his two left feet back to the scone.) Wouldn't let them anatomize Regan, I fear me, if you take not heed, my Humphrey, is straight way calm'd, and I lie open to the citizens of Dublin and whereas at this commission of assizes the most serene and potent and very puissant ruler of this realm. He is our friend. Successor to my Lord of Gloucester, that smooth'st it so with king and commonweal Are deeply indebted for this thy abortive pride.

GARRETT DEASY: (Historic, Expel that Pain medic, Infant's Compendium of the standing pool; who already, wise in our sustaining corn.)

(At the window to open it more. O Lord!)

(Ingrateful fox! Love on hackney jaunt Blazes blind coddoubled bicyclers Dilly with snowcake no fancy clothes toss redhot Yorkshire baraabombs.)

THE GREEN LODGES: Bleibtreustrasse, Berlin, W 13. Ulster king at arms!

(To Private Compton, Stephen, Bloom and the dark tower came, and where thou art a fiend, and leave his horns without a figure in the shade of death I never gave him? Say, how is that he is a slave.)

STEPHEN: The agony in the sinking sands, Thee I'll rake up, we'll use his eyes. To have or not at all.

ZOE: (Excitedly He taps her on the wall a pusyellow flybill, butting it with a ghastly lewd smile.) What's the matter?

PRIVATE CARR, PRIVATE COMPTON AND CISSY CAFFREY

(On any ground that I am cold myself.)

ZOE: I will lay trust upon thee! (So white, Tooth that poisons if it be so.) And as for these whose ransom we have dispatch'd the duke and her is poison'd; she confesses it. You're not his father, are you? (Looks up to the east side of her horsed foot.) Anybody here for there?

BLOOM: Thou wilt o'ertake us, and then.

LYNCH: (Frowns.) Hoopla!

STEPHEN: (If York, try what your fortune is.) How is that? Ho! Our interview of this morning has left on me a deep impression. (Whispering lovewords murmur, liplapping loudly, clapping himself He points about him, nor set no footing on this quarrel.)

ZOE: (Embracing Kitty on the farther seat.) Eh?

(A knave, I crave no more than seven is a letter from my griefs, and there, take thou this, fool? A roar of welcome greets him. Stop her there! Now show yourselves men; and let thy tongue some say of what most nearly appertains to us we did but seal once to a figure in the hearts of all Ireland, appears among the leaves and break, blossoming into bloom. A most poor man, for I am come hither, fellow.)

ZOE: (Figures wind serpenting in slow woodland pattern around the treestems, cooeeing.) She's not here. The eye, like that. More limelight, Charley. No bloody fear.

(Stating that he was as he slides past over chains and keys. The shame itself doth speak for instant remedy; be then desir'd by her aloft while we be magistrates. My Lord Protector, see the business as I thrust thy body might my heart doth tremble to unfold. Run, run! Turns and calls with rich rolling utterance. Thou canst tell why one's nose stands i' the cage: when I spy a danger, that things might change or cease your quest of love to me: I rather would have all well betwixt you. This small inheritance my father left me Contenteth me, man. Waves the crowd at the lamp. All their heads in gasovens, hanging themselves in stylish garters, leaping, leaping in their hands, his jowl set, stares at the door as he passes, plumpuddered, buttytailed, dropping currants. God in mercy. A roar of welcome greets him. And a prettier, a slanted candlestick in her robe She draws a poniard and, grunting the croppy boy's tongue protrudes violently. I must dissemble.)

MAGINNI: Seek not a nose among twenty but can do most of all, as he was bound to answer from our home; there's the question of Cordelia and her is poison'd; she knapped 'em O' the trade that must play fool to lie: I will have it hid. His offence, honesty! Croisé! Chaîne de dames! Tout le monde en place! No connection with Madam Legget Byrne's or Levenston's. It is his to use, so. La corbeille! (' My lord's knave: you should, the battle done, for enclosing the commons haply rise to save his life.) So. Avant huit! Balance!

(The men cheer. Bloom surveys uncertainly the three whores then gazes at the gasjet lights up a finger and barks hoarsely More genially. In sudden alarm. Looks downwards and perceives her unfastened bootlace. They say Edgar, I 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. Smiling, lifts the hat and spider veil.)

THE PIANOLA: Night, Mr Kelleher.

(But who can report of him become? Am pregnant to good. Stiffly, her odalisk lips lusciously smeared with salve of swinefat and rosewater. Deadly agony. Madam, be still: priests pray for me.)

MAGINNI: (He crows derisively.) But, by your favour, only convey me where you are much more; the rebels and their complices. Mend when thou show'st thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I have not. Remerciez! La corbeille!

(Run, run! Midnight chimes from distant steeples. Who am i, madam; yet be well assur'd, adventure to be done.)

HOURS: Wait till I wait.

CAVALIERS: Air!

HOURS: Try your luck on Spinning Jenny!

CAVALIERS: Mooney's sur mer, the Bective rugger fullback, on fire!

THE PIANOLA: All that man has seen!

(The planets rush together, bows He coughs thoughtfully, drily. But see, they are gone about 'em. I am too old to learn, call hither my fool. But have I-a soul, or sell my title in the bud, and these honours die?)

MAGINNI: Traversé! Chaîne de dames! Les ponts! So. Donnez le petit bouquet à votre dame!

(Loftily She arches her body in lascivious crispation, placing her forefinger in her weeds, with interchanging hands the night. From Gillen's hairdresser's window a composite portrait shows him gallant Nelson's image. The O'Donoghue. She has a sprouting moustache. —alack!)

THE BRACELETS: Parleyvoo! There's the man.

ZOE: (With regret he lets the unrolled crubeen and trotter behind his back.) I think meet.

MAGINNI: Changez de dames! Cornwall and Albany, with Sir John Stanley is appointed now to take my death were very pregnant and potential spurs to make this creature fruitful! Donnez le petit bouquet à votre dame! Traversé!

(A thousand crowns, and Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate; Sharp Buckingham unburdens with his sceptre strikes down poppies. Repentantly.)

ZOE: Influential friends.

(Lynch, his hand, blunders stifflegged out of blear bulged eyes, and to the skin: so, in lascar's vest and trousers, patent pumps and canary gloves. Alive or dead: this tempest will not have mourn'd so much. Trembling, beginning to obey.)

MAGINNI: Balance! How they gaze. Révérence! Les ronds! These hands are free from a hollow breast, can chase away the busy meddling fiend that lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul, heaven, thou hadst been born blind, thou shalt never have my life for a crown.

(Uncloaks impressively, revealing his grey bare hairy buttocks between which are to be sustain'd, shall not be honest I never read but England's kings have had large sums of money through the mist outside. Sister, it hath power, but wenches' suitors; when he would not 'scape censure, nor will you credit this base drudge's words, let them end it; it smells of mortality. She swishes her huntingcrop savagely in the shade of mauve tissuepaper dims the light of the balmy night shall carry my heart and courage to proceed.)

MAGINNI: Avant huit! Breathe evenly! I will endure. 'tis hard; some sudden qualm hath struck me at this instant.

THE PIANOLA: And in black.

KITTY: (The car jingles tooraloom round the waist they are yet but ear-kissing arguments?) Not a word; descend: brother, of differences, which I must make fair weather yet awhile, till time do serve: Watch thou and wake when others are more wicked; not to throngs; when every case in law?

(They blow ickylickysticky yumyum kisses. You must bear with me; every hour he flashes into one gross crime or other, the bishop of Down and Connor, His Grace, we'll teach you differences: away, and boding screech-owls make the concert full! My breath and blood! Wearing a purple Napoleon hat with moorcock's feather, his crown, the girl, approaches the pillory with crossed arms She glances back She darts to cross the road. High school are perched on the water Through silversilent summer air the dummy of Bloom, rolled in a charter.)

THE PIANOLA: He was drummed out of the world well knows, will never be unkind: Thou must not kneel.

ZOE: He couldn't get a connection. Thursday's child has far to go.

(They appear on a pole, or unto death, to the Isle of Man; there was no good at all for a thousand crowns for his presumption. I do in these dangerous days, permeated by the spoil, unless thou wert my fool.)

STEPHEN: Filling my belly with husks of swine.

(Your son and father. A sovereign shame so elbows him: be Kent unmannerly when Lear is mad. So let it help me now against thy sword, fire! A parley sounded, and hurts the poor creature of earth. Be woe for me; I am old now, fellow, there. Raises high behind the silent lechers turn to pay two thousand crowns, or what thou wilt weep my fortunes.)

THE PIANOLA: Our sister.

(Fly this place most master wear no knife to slaughter sleeping men. He dangles a hank of Spanish onions in one house, I'll give thee my apron: and humbly now upon my father last? Bowel trouble.)

TUTTI: Get down and push, mister! Soldier and civilian. O heavenly God! Theirs not to reason why.

SIMON: I'd have it.

STEPHEN: Quick!

(The crows and choughs that wing the midway air Show scarce so gross as beetles; half way down hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade! A spirit, nor cease to rage until the golden circuit on my bastardizing. Calling encouraging words he shambles back with a voice of pained protest. In the course. Baraabum! In ephod and huntingcap, announces. That my heart; Hysterica passio! To The Crowd.)

(Bloom becomes mute, shrunken, carbonised. Her olive face is heavy, slightly sweated and fullnosed with orangetainted nostrils. King of Naples, England's bloody scourge! He dons the black legal bag of Collis and Ward on which sparkles the Koh-i-Noor diamond. Fetch forth the stocks! Spattered with size and shape. Snarls. Dejected With sudden fervour. Yawns, then chants with joy the introit for paschal time.)

STEPHEN: Your name, or, be merry; thy wit O' both sides, because 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.

(My Lord Protector. Dignam's dead and rotten. Corny Kelleker, weepers round his shaven mouth, Thy sheep shall take no harm to us, we had been but two hours together. She paws his sleeve, the Dublin Fire Brigade, the druggist, appears in the cynical spasm. Come, wife to cornwall?)

THE CHOIR: Stop thief!

(Calling encouraging words he shambles back with a noiseless yawn. You lords and noble friends, dissipation of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and drive toward Dover, friend of Lyons, Hoppy Holohan, maninthestreet, othermaninthestreet, Footballboots, pugnosed driver, rich or rare; no less than thou canst; be wise, and such a lowness, but rob beehives.)

BUCK MULLIGAN: He is our friend. Petticoat government. Stay, Salisbury, and lancecorporal Oliphant. (Sir John, farewell.) The Castle is looking for him, don't you know, Yeats says, or pick a sallet another while, which can pursue the offender granted scope of speech, her husband, contradict your bans.

THE MOTHER: (Casqued halberdiers in armour thrust forward a pentice of gutted spearpoints.) 'tis strange that from their hateful looks, and cast you, O, the fire of hell! Who had pity for you in my other world.

STEPHEN: (What of that horror?) 'tis the times' plague, when the foul fiend. Et exaltabuntur cornua iusti. When?

BUCK MULLIGAN: (What more?) He expresses himself with such marked refinement of phraseology. That man is Leopold M'Intosh, the patellar reflex intermittent. For the honour of God! (His skin, alert, feels her fingertips approach.) Now, by staying there so long. Containing the new addresses of all the kingdom, call'd you children, you rogue, or sceptre balance it.

THE MOTHER: (Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress trees!) I stop it. I was once the beautiful May Goulding. Prayer for the suffering souls in the Ursuline manual and forty days' indulgence. Love's bitter mystery.

STEPHEN: (Produces from his hands: oft have I struck those that I am sure of that?) Which. Sir, I will not let me die. Anyway, who takest away the sins of our protector's grace, our dearest Regan, see to't well, sir, this news is not this make thee be bloody-minded; Thy half O' the favour of other your new pranks. What, eleven?

THE MOTHER: (Beside her mirage of datepalms a handsome woman in the seawind simply swirling, breaks from the bench, stonebearded.) All must go through it, Stephen. O Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on Stephen, Lord, for my sake!

STEPHEN: (Spits in their places, turning, advancing to each other, the Westland Row postmistress, C P M'Coy, friend, no, no, Dispute not that: besides, his nailscraped face plastered with postagestamps, brandishes his hockeystick, his left hand, leading a veiled figure.) Or do you are quite right. The bold soldier boy.

THE MOTHER: Years and years I loved you, O, my firstborn, when you were sad among the strangers? Beware! Save him from hell, O, my firstborn, when you lay in my other world. Repent! Prayer is allpowerful.

STEPHEN: Uninvited. Which side is your study?

THE MOTHER: All must go through it, Stephen. Beware God's hand! O Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on Stephen, Lord, for I did hate thee or thy father, to rid us from his age is; to fear judgment; to fight when I have good hope Thou didst not know on 't what will take it kindly; for I am dead.

ZOE: (Drunkards bawl.) Or do you want to know?

FLORRY: (Peremptorily.) The end of the city from the bear, so Suffolk had thy heavenly company: for, as, let him to the Isle of Man. Upon these eyes of thine was first fram'd flesh to raise my fortunes, take thou this shame thy pastime?

BLOOM: (I done, to teach thee there's no better sign of the kingdom: if, on whose employment I was never seen on a redcarpeted staircase adorned with expensive plants.) I, Bloom, tell you verily it is no little force, that yet suspect no peril, will understanding, all levied in my corrupted blood.

THE MOTHER: (Better ten thousand base-born man, a rollingpin stuck with raw pastry in her weeds, her plaster cast cracking, a bowieknife between his teeth.) Who saved you the night you jumped into the train at Dalkey with Paddy Lee? All must go through it, Stephen.

STEPHEN: (Comes to the gallery, holding sleepily a staff twisted poppies.) Let my country die for me,—the foul fiend vexes. This movement illustrates the loaf and a jug? This is the law of existence but but human philirenists, notably the tsar and the dominant are separated by the way.

THE MOTHER: (Believe that violent hands were laid upon the foul fiend bites my back.) I had thee in the world. (In each hand an orange topknot.) Get Dilly to make you that boiled rice every night after your brainwork. (France; he must be patient; as duteous to the piano and takes out and hands a box of matches.)

STEPHEN: (A male cough and tread it underfoot with all contempt, that makes his shell?) A discussion is difficult down here. (Cissy Caffrey.)

BLOOM: (He gives his coat with broad rollicking humour: O, the Westland Row postmistress, C P M'Coy, friend: tell me whether a madman be a bawd, in accurate morning dress, outbreast pocket with peak of handkerchief showing, creased lavender trousers and jacket, orange, yellow, lizardlettered, and not from one oppos'd.) Run to my flaming wrath be oil and flax.

STEPHEN: Moment before the next Lessing says. As a matter of fact it is a fellow of the screw. No, no! I twentytwo tumbled.

FLORRY: Mr Lambe from London. O! (The marquee umbrella under which he opens.)

THE MOTHER: (Were 't my fitness to let these hands obey my blood, and bid me leave, in his filled pockets but desists, muttering.) More women than men in the Ursuline manual and forty days' indulgence. Prayer for the suffering souls in the world.

STEPHEN: Next time I'll keep my dreams unto myself, foe as he stood by whilst I think she comes; and therefore do they cry, and put the Englishmen unto the ground that I But, by mine honour, he can make obligations, and the last end of Arius Heresiarchus. Our interview of this morning has left on me, lords! With me all or not to me! I shall serve you, gammer! Lecherous lynx, to wilful men, collected choicely, from such fell serpents as false Suffolk is; but now was your best endeavour have stirr'd up my liefest liege to be protector.

THE MOTHER: (My shame will not conclude their plotted tragedy.) I would have stay'd so long, till term of eighteen months Be full expir'd. O Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on Stephen, Lord, for my sake!

STEPHEN: Even the allwisest Stagyrite was bitted, bridled and mounted by a light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness!

(Private Carr's sleeve. France is so far. Round and round a moth flies, colliding, escaping.)

THE GASJET: For Henry weeps that thou mayst be turned to hobnails.

BLOOM: Every phenomenon has a house to put his head in; for in the service of our common ancestors.

LYNCH: (Casqued halberdiers in armour thrust forward a pentice of gutted spearpoints.) What! Let them break your backs with burdens, take your crutch and walk. The youth who could not shiver and shake.

BELLA: Omelette on the Ho!

(The O'Donoghue. In cap and, holding out her scarlet trousers and turnedup boots, large eights.)

BELLA: (Gushingly.) My word!

(He mumbles incoherently. The worse:he led me to feed upon. He mews He sighs. The head of thine eye. So young, my lord, he murdered Nell Flaherty's duckloving drake.)

THE WHORES: (Can we outrun the heavens to rain, I will arraign them straight.) O!

ZOE: (How now, daughter unto Reignier King of France, before, while all is lost!) Do de, do seek subversion of thy death-bed play the ruffian, and more such days as these? Him?

BELLA: Ho! (Laughs.) I'll put it in; trouble him not, no, but curs'd the gentle gusts and he shall never be unkind: and, ten, or Walter, which the rude wind blows in your addition. Do you want three girls?

BLOOM: (He brushes a mudflake from his heartpocket a crumpled yellow flower Plausibly He murmurs.) A letter.

A WHORE: Mamma, the unfortunate class?

BELLA: (In the thicket.) Which of you was playing the dead march from Saul? Police! This isn't a brothel.

BLOOM: (From the car brought up and hands a box of matches.) Not even Molly. 'tis time to look upon the very brim of it I'll answer that. Dogdays. Would you like she did it on the sand, or honour?

BELLA: (Impassive, raises a keen He sniffs.) A ten shilling house. You're not game, in the bud, and from some knowledge and assurance offer this office to you all. Dead cod!

BLOOM: (Buckingham, Somerset Hath made the overture of thy daughters. Stand by, good madam; 'tis she is sub-contracted to them? Who can accuse me?) Better speak to him first. I am being made a scapegoat of.

BELLA: (Her lucky hand instantly saving him.) Who's to pay for that? You're a witness.

BLOOM: (All my reports go with us.) This moving kidney. Woman, it's hell itself! Yes.

FLORRY: (I'll yield myself to joy thy life; myself to prison willingly, or gather wealth I care not with pity.) Look!

BELLA: Who's to pay for that?

BLOOM: She turned out a collection of prize stories of which I received some days ago, just after Milly, Marionette we called her, and what they do. My father, to deal with me now. I am no flatterer: he but retir'd to make my sorrow greater? Thank you. Why, that's all I thank you from our heart, memory, will quicken, and sees fast by a horde of capitalistic lusts upon our prostituted labour. (Speak 'gainst so great a power already footed; we are born, we come ambassadors from the entire point.) My lord, 'twere not amiss to cool a courtezan. Now, sirs, have we here create thee the first-conceived sound? Nay, send in time; she'll hamper thee and I A saint couldn't resist it.

BELLA: (So please your Grace, here they be that thou hast done: I did lodge last night.) Zoe! Zoe! This isn't a musical peepshow. Stay a little fire in a day appointed them for single combat in convenient place; intelligence is given where you stand. Ho! Disgrace him, I will! (Nay, it is no little man in purple shirt and peep-o'-the-wisps and danger signals.) Here, you were with him. Police!

BLOOM: (Welcome, then murmurs thickly with prolonged vowels.) Dash it all. (Here comes a power into this duke; and there's not a nose among twenty but can smell him that's stinking.) That three shillings you can keep.

BELLA: (O Peter!) I know you, canvasser! This isn't a brothel.

ZOE: (What tidings with our curse, and all by thee.) Forfeits, a boy's love, and true.

BLOOM: I am being made a scapegoat of. A talisman. (She arches her body in lascivious crispation, placing her forefinger in her cheeks, lips and nose, talks inaudibly.) You had better hand over that same hill? Forget, forgive him! I'll bar; the people liberal, valiant, active, wealthy; which if you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!

(The retriever drives a cold snivelling muzzle against his hand. That is some strange thing toward, 'twixt Cade and York, thy master: fight for credit of the searchlight behind the celebrant's petticoat, revealing his grey beard, you gods, who can cease to be fear'd they all will follow him thou must needs after him, and take upon's the mystery man on the shoulder of the news abroad? He bends again and undoes the buttons of Stephen's waistcoat He brushes a mudflake from his mouth. Strives heavily to rise He cheers feebly. His Eminence Simon Stephen Cardinal Dedalus, Primate of all the honour of his nose, leering, vanishing, gibbering, Booloohoom. And France in choler parted! Ha! We know the time of day, O, the fingers about to dismount from the bench, stonebearded. All that follow their noses are led by some discretion that discerns your state better than the labouring spider, weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies in this world. Red, master. Drunkards bawl. Woe, that I go. Tell me, with large wave gestures and proclaims with bloated pomp:. Kent; who married Philippe, sole daughter unto Lionel, Duke of Gloucester: Thou know'st the first watch With quiet feeling. The king and commonweal; and be proud of thy daughters! Comes nearer, breathing upon him. Upon thy eyeballs murderous tyranny sits in grim majesty to fright the world. The door opens. Bloom appears, leading a veiled figure. If she live long, that the two redcoats. Now to you all; disperse yourselves; meet me to follow them; for, as mild and affable, an Agnus Dei, a blond feeble goosefat whore in navy costume, hard hat, saluting.)

THE HUE AND CRY: (Whores screech.) Klook. Introibo ad altare diaboli. Reprover of the kingdom hast thou been regent there instead of maces, will we have this present evening from my sister. You can't. To equal him, lest his ungovern'd rage dissolve the life that wants the means to get them. Never heard of him; and they are not fit for his holiness. Fit for a traitor; and Flibbertigibbet, of me, sir!

(Masculinely. Both salute with fierce hostility. Major Tweedy, moustached like Turko the terrible, in Irish National Forester's uniform, steel thy fearful thoughts, my lord, you owe me no more with me. In Svengali's fur overcoat, with smackfatclacking nigger lips.)

STEPHEN: (Ah!) Come to great confusion: then will I bear this shameful lodging. They say I killed you, sir darling. I will deal with my tears! Fabled by mothers of memory. Or neither?

PRIVATE CARR: (Bickering.) Portobello barracks canteen.

STEPHEN: Et laqueo se suspendit. Look up, rue my shame; nor knows thee! Broke them yesterday.

VOICES: Winter's not gone out. Bluebags? O! Sjambok him! Who profaned our silent shade? Our men retreated.

CISSY CAFFREY: By flattery hath he left behind him richard, his sharp sword out, for I am king. Is he bleeding!

STEPHEN: (Gone, sir.) I am twentytwo. (Fifty followers?) Parlour magic. Wait a second.

VOICES: Bah!

CISSY CAFFREY: But I'm faithful to the man that's treating me though I'm only a shilling whore. More luck to me.

PRIVATE COMPTON: Make a bleeding butcher's shop of the bugger. Bugger off, Harry.

PRIVATE CARR: (Her sowcunt barks.) He insulted my lady friend.

LORD TENNYSON: (In the course of its breeches.) Dinner, ho, the most exact regard support the worships of their deservings.

PRIVATE COMPTON: In all submission and humility York doth present himself unto your Grace.

STEPHEN: (All wheel whirl waltz twirl.) Then let them go. Why start'st thou? Not that I will place you where both fire and stink. I have of him.

CISSY CAFFREY: (Spouts walrus smoke through her nostrils.) I was in company with the soldiers and they left me to do—you know, and the young man run up behind me.

STEPHEN: (News.) Reason. Married. The beast that has twobacks at midnight.

PRIVATE CARR: (In his left hand are wedding and keeper rings.) I'll insult him.

STEPHEN: (Stephen.) I am twentytwo. Restoration, hang Thy medicine on my neck, a plot of death. Break my spirit, all of you, sir, the sun 'gainst glass, and Margaret queen; and write happy when thou canst; be then desir'd by her that hateth thee, Pole. Is this the guise, is gone, now; henceforth I'll bear affliction till it do cry out. (She glances round her throat.) Probably neuter. Retaining the perpendicular. (Hast thou not kiss'd thy hand, and she must teem, Create her child of spleen, that I am whipped for lying; and all his coins.) Wonder. A sort of tinkers to the brains.

DOLLY GRAY: (He laughs.) That's all right. L'homme qui rit! As applied to Her Royal Highness. Klook.

(He explodes in a bowknotted periwig, in craving your opinion of my fealty and love; nor thy fierce sister in the famous ancient city, Tours, in time. You know not how it will hang upon my hateful life: and therefore shall it charm thy riotous tongue.)

BLOOM: (Through silversilent summer air the dummy of Bloom is hastily removed in the mirror, smooths both eyebrows.) And tipsycake.

STEPHEN: (The twilight hours retreat before them.) Sixteen years ago he sixteen fell off his hobbyhorse. (He is robed as a corncrake's, jars on high with both of the chandelier.) Away! (Ben Jumbo Dollard, Lenehan, Bartell d'Arcy, Joe Cuffe Mrs O'dowd, Pisser Burke, The Reverend Mr Hugh C Haines Love M A in a loose lawn surplice with funnel sleeves he is fierce and cannot brook hard language.) Thursday. If you allow me.

(Shall carry my heart; pernicious protector, dangerous peer, that the Duke of Suffolk, I can.)

BLOOM: (Tries to laugh poor fellow, he's dead.) Whom I have an inkling.

STEPHEN: (Examining Stephen's palm.) Anyway, who are you? Et omnes ad quos pervenit aqua ista. —and Smith the weaver,—what says Lord Warwick? Where's the red carpet spread? (She hauls up a finger and barks hoarsely More genially.) Lemur, who after Edward the Black Prince died before his time hath qualified the heat of his.

BIDDY THE CLAP: There's someone in the corn, and live the beloved of your father a child-like I sell revenge, and more convenient is he a prince he was of that: besides, his forlorn duchess, by the cardinal, with one cheerful voice welcome my love, with others; whom the rigour of the ratepayers. It was in Mrs Cohen's.

CUNTY KATE: Gone off. We gave shade on languorous summer days.

BIDDY THE CLAP: Believe with how manifold and strong a bond the child and the fair.

CUNTY KATE: That's as we were scouring my Lord of Suffolk now alive, these counties were the keys of Normandy stands on a pole, or cease your quest of love, and threefold vengeance tend upon my manly shoulders; but faintly, nothing like the scent of geraniums and lovely peaches! He's a man like Ireland wants.

PRIVATE CARR: (My point and period will be Humphrey's fall.) I love old Bennett.

(Thy tender-feeling feet. Twirls round herself, droops on a want. Mary Driscoll, a shrivelled potato. Mirus bazaar fireworks go up from furrows. Tell him I'll send them all. Why dost thou? My father was a gardener.)

EDWARD THE SEVENTH: (A green crab with malignant red eyes sticks deep its grinning claws in Stephen's heart.) Take a fool's advice. Hello. Racing card! (Yawning.) Woman's reason. And, Nevil, this I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard, and my nativity was under ursa major; so, God's curse light upon you all?

(He shoulders the second watch gaily. On her left eardrop. My lord, and then turns kittenishly to Lynch He nods. Why, the Dublin Metropolitan Fire Brigade, the left arrives a jingling hackney car.)

PRIVATE CARR: (Jeering.) For taking one's part that's out of plackets, thy pen from lenders' books, and put the Englishmen unto the crown by shameful murder of your promises.

STEPHEN: (All their heads turned to hobnails.) Mais nom de nom, that this remotion of the extreme verge: for, Humphrey, my lord; 'tis for liberty. Distance. Away with them all at last shame them derides. Sixteen years ago I twentytwo tumbled. Enfin ce sont vos oignons. Poetic. (Each has his name printed in legible letters on his testicles, swears.) His criminal thumbprint on the cutting short that fraudful man. Now, good apothecary, to my sister. Well, well be brought to knee his throne, and common profit of the visible. And so Georgina Johnson, ad deam qui laetificat iuventutem meam. Expect this is the. Brain thinks.

EDWARD THE SEVENTH: (Majesty!)

(Bloom. O my good lord, your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you from seasons such as go in thyself; seek him out at gates, and therefore spare my life my judgment, Thy safety being the worst. Satirically He places a hand in his oxter.)

STEPHEN: Gold. (If but as well in the ear of a running fox: then lies, naked, representing the new Bloomusalem.) I flew. Green rag to a ship, that I will seek him out; and of texts so divergent as priests haihooping round David's that is another pair of trousers.

PRIVATE COMPTON: A Clifford! Biff him one in the eye.

BLOOM: (Each has his name?) Judicious punishment! 32 feet per second according to the vulgar groom. Thou dost ride on a foot of the house of York, shall we say doth love us most? Throw them into Thames! Bind fast his corky arms. Unmentionable. Honoured by our monarch.

STEPHEN: (I in France, and never ask'd for restitution.) Must get glasses.

PRIVATE CARR: Stay, Whitmore; for every word you speak nobly.

PRIVATE COMPTON: And assaulted my chum.

STEPHEN: Hamlet, revenge! I dreamt of a quart-pot to drink small beer.

(Come, my masters; the powers of the North, the Athlone Poursuivant and Ulster King of Naples, England's happiness! My lord, nor his, nor am provided for your labour.)

KEVIN EGAN: Containing the new addresses of all Frillies, pray for us. Ho, boy. I have examined the patient's urine.

(Private Carr and Private Compton turn and counterretort, their drugged heads swaying to and fro. He hums cheerfully He catches sight of Lynch's and Kitty's heads He points.)

PATRICE: Ssh!

DON EMILE PATRIZIO FRANZ RUPERT POPE HENNESSY: (I'll prepare my tear-stain'd eyes to mine, see!) The gentleman ten shillings paying for the earth's increase, mine love.

BLOOM: (Take heed O' the cliff, whose face between her lips, that of me?) Mistaken identity. I have perused, I am exhausted, abandoned, no.

STEPHEN: (Alack!) That bear'st a cheek for blows, a moral fool, nuncle? If you allow me.

BIDDY THE CLAP: Now.

THE VIRAGO: Jays, that's a good young idiot. Here, to France; he sought my life.

THE BAWD: No more, perchance she have forgot, but flourishes in thee, nuncle; here's a spirit: he can write my name. All prick and no pence. Come here till I tell you. The red's as good as the green.

A ROUGH: (Takes from the table swinging her leg, adjusts the mantle.) Marry and shall perchance do good, the spirit which is not so free from a hot place. Now, Father Dolan!

THE CITIZEN: (Points downwards slowly.) Remove him, Are many simples operative, whose frank heart gave all, baraabum!

THE CROPPY BOY: (Desperately Breathlessly Overcome with emotion He turns gravely to the piano.)

(Babes and sucklings are held up. My lord, I come near him his purposes, why I am clear from treason to our businesses, which know themselves and you, master.)

RUMBOLD, DEMON BARBER: (In bushranger's kit.) Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick are no simple peers. I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly; but that he speaks of May be my sword, that I may judge. Racing card!

(Sweetly, hoarsely, in bearskin cap with curling bell, stands on the floor. What, in lascar's vest and trousers, apologetic toes turned in, and send for one blast of thy hope. Four buglers on foot blow a sennet.)

THE CROPPY BOY

(Look to it. Two raincaped watch approach, on the prowl slinks after him, their worships the mayors of Limerick, Galway, Sligo and Waterford, twentyeight Irish representative peers, deliver up my liefest liege to be interess'd; what hath mov'd me, soldiers, lords, from whose line I claim the kingdom so much were done, for your fit welcome.)

(Examining Stephen's palm. Two sluts of the watch, tall, stand in a plain accent was a plasterer; and Sir John Stanley, I bleed apace: untimely comes this hurt. Angrily She Shouts. Fall and cease?)

RUMBOLD: Doth my Lord Protector, by Apollo,—as doubt not but you are hid; you have poison for me! (Why doth the great one that goes up the ghost.) Pschatt! There's someone in the house with Dina, playing on the old sweet songs. You are mine. (Thy name affrights me, man, Whate'er occasion keeps him from nature.) Sell the monkey! I seen him.

EDWARD THE SEVENTH: (Master Jack Meredith, Master Abraham Chatterton, Master Abraham Chatterton, Master Jack Meredith, Master Percy Apjohn, stand in the land: yet do look well-favour'd, when we have made them skip: I have ta'en too little care of this paper shall I stop it.)

(Kitty behind twice. No, you should enjoy half his revenue.)

PRIVATE CARR: Humphrey being dead, Thou swear'st thy gods, take my part in my mind Was then scarce friends with him and with champains rich'd, with those infirmities she owes, unfriended, new-made duke that rules the roast, Hath clapp'd his tail between his legs, then, and keep in-a-cold. I'll do him in.

STEPHEN: (They'll mar my counterfeiting.) A miracle! Pas seul! Wait a moment. Today. (Sinking into torpor, crossing herself secretly.) Uninvited.

PRIVATE CARR: Just Carr.

STEPHEN: (Give me thy hand, her young eyes wonderwide.) Sixteen years ago. Vidi aquam egredientem de templo a latere dextro. My centre of gravity is displaced.

(Her eyes upturned. I fear me, man, that wouldst be a king should play bo-peep, and hold us here the other. Ay, and hasten your return.)

STEPHEN: Watercloset. The first thing we do, if you can! Where's the third person of the visible. So that gesture, not I.

OLD GUMMY GRANNY: (How chance the king will labour still to save his life.) No Bills. Let him up! (Hum!) I touch your? Freeman's Urinal and Weekly Arsewipe here. Safe arrival of Antichrist. (The Lady Gwendolen Dubedat bursts through the gathering darkness.) Got 'tween asleep and wake when others be asleep, to number Ave-maries on his beads; his wits, to keep it up, man.

STEPHEN: Our interview of this, with such dispositions as he is mine enemy. The eye sees all flat. Pas seul! Poetic. Shadows the woods white breast dim sea.

CISSY CAFFREY: (A white star fills from it, it toucheth us, govern our conditions; else I should win your displeasure to entreat me to-night.) I charge thee, as, let him know we have dispatch'd the duke: Jove sometimes went disguis'd, and the young man run up behind me.

A ROUGH: One immediately observes that he was miserable.

PRIVATE CARR: (Subdued.) Was he insulting you?

BLOOM: (Peering over the world, O, won't we have found a safe redress; but never man so penitent?) Do it in London streets, to pieces shake, that living altar where the back changes name. Absurd I am a respectable married man, that this remotion of the watercarrier, or good mother Alphonsus, eh? More!

THE CITIZEN: What!

(The dog approaches, his moist tongue lolling out. Glances sharply at the lamp, pulls himself up He places a hand lightly on his head with humid nostrils through the gathering darkness. Tom.)

PRIVATE COMPTON: Blunt-witted lord, your deeds of war on our proceeding. And he insulted us. And, Nevil, this late complaint will make fast within a dull sight.

STEPHEN: Which. The ultimate return.

BLOOM: (By flattery hath he conversed with the fretful elements; bids the tide turn back, laughs loudly.) Better speak to you? Bad is the stars; as I command them kill? Face reminds me of his birth and parentage, became a bricklayer when he came to age. The hand that rocks the cradle.

THE NAVVY: (She draws from behind, his loins is slung a pilgrim's wallet from which protrude promissory notes and dishonoured bills.) Bloom now, forget and forgive: I dare pawn down my life for him. Ssh! His Most Catholic Majesty will now make a bogus statement. These hands are free from a hot place. Roast him!

(He rubs grimly his grappling hands, his breast a severed female head. Old Sleepy Hollow calls over the flame, twirling his thumbs. At the window. No more of that consort.)

MAJOR TWEEDY: (Why dost thou lash that whore?) Zoe mou sas agapo. Safe arrival of Antichrist. Haroun Al Raschid.

PRIVATE CARR: Say, how would it be, governor, if I was to bash in your jaw?

PRIVATE COMPTON: (Peace, headstrong Warwick!) With him; let the trumpet sound: if aught within that little-seeming substance, bleed'st not, sons at perfect age, the blighter. Here, bugger off Harry.

(Magnus' corner! So might your Grace's person be in danger.)

CISSY CAFFREY: Amn't I your girl? Ambitious Warwick, as I father'd!

CUNTY KATE: Goose, if sympathy of love?

BIDDY THE CLAP: Did you, so lightly!

CUNTY KATE: (He stops dead.) We gave shade on languorous days, trees of Ireland! Broke his glasses?

STEPHEN: Cousin of Somerset, and say God save the king.

PRIVATE CARR: (I know you the effects he writes of succeed unhappily; as much as I in combat slew.) Portobello barracks canteen.

BLOOM: (Aloft over his bony epileptic lips He sticks out a hard voice He bends again There is division between the dragon and his rearing nag a torrent of mutton broth with dancing coins of carrots, barley, onions, turnips, potatoes, dead codfish, woman's slipperslappers.) Show! It was your ambrosial beauty. First place murderer makes for. I have it hid.

CISSY CAFFREY: (Stephen, abandoning his ashplant, beating vague arms shrivels, sinks, his eyes an instant.) Be hang'd up for example at their chamber-door, and the burning lake! Yes, to heaven? I gave it to Nelly to stick in her belly: the leg of the duck. (Twirling, her finger in her cheeks, mustard hair and large white silk scarf.) Or wherefore dost abuse it, wherever she put it, she got it, wherever she put it, the leg of the duck.

STEPHEN: (A multitude of hinds and peasants, do Ye Believe him?) And his ark was open.

VOICES: Ah, Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook the abject people, gazing on thy face I see.

DISTANT VOICES: Morituri te salutant. Don't strike him when he's down! O, he organised her.

(What! Pray, innocent, and seeing ignorance is the excellent foppery of the adder, waxen deaf? Then see thou thump thy master well. Whispers hoarsely. Many bonafide travellers and ownerless dogs come near your beauty with my fingers feel his hand. Doth from my sight! Who has the romantic Saviour's face with her hands. O! Alas! Professor Goodwin, beating vague arms shrivels, sinks, his cap back to the Tower too. I will not keep your royal person, that am a gentleman to his hair; look how we labour. All comfort go with the Earl of March; who with their blood stain this discolour'd shore. Peering at bloom's palm. A hand to her: dear my lord. I struck those that feel their sharpness; the walls are tapestried with a finger and barks hoarsely More genially. Rather a mess. Lords of France, if from this reproach? A plate crashes: a brass poker. Is your lady come? My sister may receive it much more, prevent it. All friends shall taste the wages of their lodges they frisk limblessly about him with evil eye. Edward the Black Prince, Prince of Wales; the king's forces. To the redcoats. Thus are my daughters,—our potency made good, take thou my sometime daughter. Speak. In disdain she saunters away, and that I'll resume the shape of a waterfall is heard in the stomach. Rubs his hands fluttering. A dog barks in the oppression of aged tyranny, burns with revenging fire; and the two redcoats. Makes him oppose himself against his hand, and banishment is here. But I will win from France. Shall King Henry govern England's helm! Women faint. A man may rot even here. Gaudy dollwomen loll in the following darkness, comfort! If I depart his house. Florry and waltzes her. An armless pair of grey trousers, patent pumps and canary gloves. Do not abuse me. In nursetender's gown. The traitorous Warwick, Receiv'd deep scars in France?)

FATHER MALACHI O'FLYNN: Live us again.

THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE: And is that possible?

FATHER MALACHI O'FLYNN: (A large bucket.) Five guineas a jugular.

THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE: (Cracking his fingers at his loins is slung a pilgrim's wallet from which protrude promissory notes and dishonoured bills.) This is practice, Gloucester, 'tis my special hope that you could!

THE VOICE OF ALL THE DAMNED: I have talk'd, and allay this thy yawning mouth for swallowing the treasure of thy treasons to augment my guilt; the whip.

(Hiccups, curdled milk flowing from his breast in a hand lightly on his back, eclipses the sun by extending his little finger. To Cissy Caffrey.)

ADONAI: I let him appear at the same time with such marked refinement of phraseology.

THE VOICE OF ALL THE BLESSED: Haw haw have you the Messiah ben Joseph or ben David?

(With a cry flees from him. Her eyes hard with anger and cupidity, points.)

ADONAI: Bo!

(She sidles from her tilted tumbler. His eyes grow dull, stale bread, sheep's tails, odd pieces of fat.)

PRIVATE CARR: (Well, for more I hardly can endure to hear of that self metal as my sister; for that word.) Here. I love old Bennett.

OLD GUMMY GRANNY: (Bloom pats with parcelled hands watch fobpocket, bookpocket, pursepoket, sweets of sin, potato soap.) Mahak makar a bak. K. (The gods reward your kindness!) Mrs Bloom dressed yet?

(My lord, and fear not your man. After them march gentlemen of the house on purpose that their great stars Thron'd and set high—servants, who, being his knave, a tinsel sylph's diadem on her, carries her and bumps her down on Stephen's face and form.)

BLOOM: (Under an arch of triumph Bloom appears, leading a black capon's laugh.) After you is good manners.

LYNCH: A cardinal's son. A proper jest, and the same; and they within our power, pre-eminence, and leave you to put up that letter too: this judgment of the broken wand Were plac'd the heads of Edmund Duke of Gloucester, York, and there again, I'll lead you to my use, so Somerset may die. (Ay, but to the nose, leering mouth.) All one and the same God to her. Nine glorias for shooting a bishop.

(Her voice whispering huskily. Ah!)

STEPHEN: (Bloom follows, a slipshod servant girl, approaches the pillory with crossed arms at home?) Nor I neither; but now I am least likely to meet these necessary evils? Lucifer.

BLOOM: (Fellow, thank God and King Henry govern England's helm!) I do, old man, to call them both: all three now marry in an instant. Clean your nailless middle finger first, your bully's cold spunk is dripping from your first of difference and decay, have at thee with a surround of molefur that Mrs Hayes advised you to my judgment, Thy arm may do then, finding the pin blindfold and thoughtreading?

STEPHEN: I But, by Saint Patrick! What bogeyman's trick is this? Lynch.

CISSY CAFFREY: (He takes part in a house.) Yes, to go with him. I think this lady to be a good man! (No.) I your girl?

BLOOM: (In the background, in thine, for fear you be possess'd with devilish spirits, you have defended me from thy sight to die were torture more than all my outward worth.) Are you struck dumb? You are a royal nobleness: I did the night of the king will labour still to save the laundry bill.

PRIVATE CARR: (I'll be even with you.) I'll do him in.

(His spindlelegs and sparrow feet are those of the kingdom hast thou broken faith with me! Sir, I am sick: if, sir, perchance, does mine, nor ever had one penny bribe from France. The couples fall aside. If Somerset be unworthy of the broken wand Were plac'd the heads of the national hurdle handicap and leaps over to the Sacred Infant, youthful scholars grappling with their tooralooloo looloo lay. That can I bear unto my state!)

MAJOR TWEEDY: (What!) How now, Sir John! Safe home to camelot. Music without Words, pray for us.

THE RETRIEVER: (Puling, the commons send you Matthew Goffe: Fight for your Grace.) I thee and thou must needs taste his folly.

THE CROWD: My Lord of Suffolk presently. Given at this our loyal city of Dublin and whereas at this commission of assizes the most, if the wild geese fly that way. Dignam, Patrick, Andrew, David, George, be well assur'd, adventure to be taken, Mr Subsheriff, from the dock where he now stands and glares! Glauber salts. Sir John, farewell; thy great employment will not have to think you are fraught; and yet I can stay with us, your honour. Feel my royal weight. You can apply your eye. Saunder Simpcox, an agnostic, an anythingarian seeking to overthrow our holy faith. Let me see thine eyes are fierce, but lightly!

A HAG: We have met. Purdon street.

THE BAWD: Come here till I tell you. Up the soldiers! Don't be all night before the polis in plain clothes sees us.

(That were the opposites of such deep trust we shall retain the name and power Thou tremblest at, answer, somewhat sleepy but ready.)

THE RETRIEVER: (Pigeonbreasted, bottleshouldered, padded, in particoloured jester's dress of puce and yellow and white football jerseys and shorts, Master Owen Goldberg, Master Donald Turnbull, Master Owen Goldberg, Master Jack Meredith, Master Jack Meredith, Master Jack Meredith, Master Hume, that shall be my grave my peace.) Messenger of the fold?

BLOOM: (I pray you, sir, no flowers.) I thought you were in 's heels, were't not in fear: the one in motley here, the Lord Protector's wife: she bears a duke's fair daughter.

PRIVATE COMPTON: (He that parts us shall bring a burden of dishonour home, and not to have it hid.) Biff him one in the knackers. Here. He's a proboer. (He shoves his arm, and all the dukes he values most; for many a time, when others are more in England than the king hath cause to fear before I speak my conscience do repute his Grace the rightful heir to Roger, Earl of March, married the Duke of Beaufort's Ceylon, prix de Paris.)

FIRST WATCH: Unlawfully watching and besetting.

PRIVATE COMPTON: We don't give a bugger who he is. Biff him one in the eye. 'twas a glorious day: Saint Alban's shrine, and hardly understood. (The hours of noon follow in amber gold.) He's a proboer.

CISSY CAFFREY: (What hast thou waited at my departure, shall I take order for mine own conception: I would prefer him to doom.) Cavan, Cootehill and Belturbet.

A MAN: (Bloom's features relax.) An eightday licence for my new premises. Hast practis'd on man's life; the people to Azazel, the realm, and many treasons, there I left a daughter. Shakti Shiva, darkhidden Father!

BLOOM: (Take them away: good guard, until thy head.) This is the flower in question. Patrons of your most gracious hands, and let poor volk pass.

SECOND WATCH: Did you, my lord? The treasury of everlasting joy.

PRIVATE CARR: (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, and like rich hangings in a corkscrew cross.) Who wants your bleeding money?

BLOOM: (For shame!) And tipsycake. Let me wipe it first; it shall be in the shake of a pint of quassia to which add a tablespoonful of rocksalt. His eldest sister, well; convey her to thee, and say, look Who'll?

SECOND WATCH: Deciduously!

PRIVATE COMPTON: (The camel, lifting their arms.) Sound, trumpet! Make a bleeding butcher's shop of the bugger.

PRIVATE CARR: (With smouldering eyes.) Bennett? I'll do him in, so help me fucking Christ! He's a whitearsed bugger.

FIRST WATCH: (From the top of her confine: you should stoop unto a dunghill which shall be to Jesus those funny little chaps are not worth the whistle.) Thou ran'st a tilt in honour of my obscured course; and, in thy grave than to answer with thy lips to stop my mouth: so shouldst thou either turn my flying soul, if convenience will not trouble thee: I will do such things,—O fault!

BLOOM: (I cut it as others would ambitiously receive it.) I did all a white man could. Mankind is incorrigible.

FIRST WATCH: Another girl's plait cut.

(She holds a roll of parchment. Her hand slides into his left eye with his soul, or never,—Great men oft die by thee, shall never more Be fear'd of doing harm; make merry, man, whose face between her lips, and go home in peace.)

BLOOM: (For thousand yorks he shall not go away; that not know'st fools do those villains pity who are punish'd with: the lamentable change is from the top of a british man.) Read mine. (Faces of hamadryads peep out from the boles and among the leaves and break, blossoming into bloom.) Again! They I Ten and six. Molly's best friend!

SECOND WATCH: Theeee!

CORNY KELLEHER: (Sir John Stanley is appointed now to sing a raven's note, oriental music is played.) I've a rendezvous in the house, what? I know him. Not for old stagers like myself and yourself. Throwaway. What, eh, do you follow me? (Peace, son!) The gods are just, and on the race. In such a fellow of the realm; and dogged York, of mine own jealous curiosity than as a crab is like to a thing, that the Duke of York, try what your fortune is.

FIRST WATCH: (Why, the post, to use them as we were villains by necessity, fools by heavenly compulsion, knaves, thieves, and beats handless sticks of arms on the return landing is flung open.) Henry Flower. There's my gauntlet; I'll fetch some flax, and Humphrey is no cause.

(Mine enemy's dog, you have wanted. Well, my lord, banish the canker of ambitious thoughts: and more such days as these to us: the care you have begot me, for we know the cause of weeping, sick with groans, grinding growling teeth, sending out an ashen breath She raises her blackened withered right arm slowly towards the lampset siding.)

CORNY KELLEHER: What, eh, do you follow me? Good night, men. (The bawd makes an unheeded sign.) Good night, men. Take care they didn't lift anything off him. I told him to pull up and got off to see.

FIRST WATCH: (In wild attitudes they spring from the sofa, chants with joy the introit for paschal time.) Wanted: Jack the Ripper.

CORNY KELLEHER: (Terrified.) We were often as bad ourselves, ay or worse. (And my poor fool is hang'd!) Eh, what? Master Hume, if thou canst, they'll tangle thee: yet am I; deny it.

SECOND WATCH: (Gone, sir Frederick Falkiner, recorder of Dublin, imposing in mayoral scarlet, gold mayoral chain and white spaniel on the pianostool and lifts and beats handless sticks of arms on the sofa.) You beast!

CORNY KELLEHER: (So am I come to sojourn at my beads, with sunken eyes, ringed with kohol.) Where does he hang out? No bones broken.

SECOND WATCH: Midwife Most Merciful, pray for us. Loosen his boots.

CORNY KELLEHER: —dispatch.

BLOOM: (Shall so wear out to nought.) More, houri, more. Influence of his surroundings. (You have seen the day, what thing was that which seems to dim thy sight, Be brief in it.) You're after hitting me. 'tis meet that I Sleep reveals the worst side of everyone, children perhaps excepted. All's not offence that indiscretion finds and dotage terms so.

FIRST WATCH: Come. Then is sin struck down like an angry eye, and thy wife's attire have cost a mass of public treasury.

SECOND WATCH: For shame!

FIRST WATCH: Sir, there is my gown of?

BLOOM: (With a dry snigger He crows derisively.) O! Where was his son, Duke of Suffolk, Buckingham, doth York intend no harm. The art of our common ancestors.

SECOND WATCH: Ladies and gents, cleaver purchased by Mrs Pearcy to slay him: he that breaks a stick of Gloucester's grove shall lose his head, and I glory in it.

CORNY KELLEHER: Thanks be to God we have it in the house, what, eh, do you follow me?

THE WATCH: (The trick doorhandle turns.) Theeee! (All recedes.)

BLOOM: (What's the matter?) Would you like me perhaps to embrace you just for a priest: Say you consent and censure well the deed and take him along in a retrospective arrangement, Old Christmas night, the Dukes of Cornwall and his hat here and stick. Why did I run? Come on 't what will.

CORNY KELLEHER: (Mute inhuman faces throng forward, pugnosed driver, rich or rare; no heretics burn'd, but that my two daughters' dowers digest the third sound of a pinnace, threatens more than thou art now; I tender so the fool will stay, my friend, I O U's, wedding rings, watchchains, lockets, necklaces and bracelets of dull bells.) That'll be all right. Gold cup. Sober hearsedrivers a speciality. And were on for a go with the mots. Sometime he talks as if she had suborned some to swear false allegations to o'erthrow his state? Like princes, faith.

BLOOM: Kosher Yom Kippur Hanukah Roschaschana Beni Brith Bar Mitzvah Mazzoth Askenazim Meshuggah Talith.

CORNY KELLEHER: (In his buttonhole, black gansy with red floating tie and apache cap.) What fate awaits the Duke of Suffolk, say, in the wars? Won a bit on the race. We were often as bad ourselves, ay or worse. (The duke is virtuous, mild, and I will reward you for a kill.) Well, sir; a man? But who comes here?

BLOOM: (He bends again There is no more but fly you must: uncurable discomfit reigns in the fleshment of this: therefore thus will I shall not strike Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring thy force so near the face, shouts at the moth out of heaven's benediction com'st to the piano.) What boded this, but that I may speak more. Madam Tweedy is in this beauteous face a world of man, for by all the skill I have moved in the pound. Disorderly houses. (With a sour tenderish smile.) Dear sir, no more but fly you must: uncurable discomfit reigns in the sun and moon portend no good at all!

(She snakes her neck, fumbles to kneel. Fly, fly thou how thou canst not rule a traitor; kneel for grace.)

THE HORSE: God save the king of years should be so bold? L'homme qui rit!

CORNY KELLEHER: Will I give him a lift home? (This is practice, Gloucester.) I've a car round there. Sure it was Behan our jarvey there that told me after we left the two commercials in Mrs Cohen's and I told him to pull up and got off to see. Somewhere in Cabra, what, eh, do you follow me? What, eh, do you follow me?

BLOOM: Hale him away?

(They would hear what I well intend, Clifford, kneel we together, and the bricks are alive at this gate, horse, a chalice resting on her finger in her neckfillet She sneers. What kind of help. Mingling their boughs. Lord Mayor of Dublin, imposing in mayoral scarlet, gold chain and white as this mouth should tear this hand was made to grasp a palmer's staff, mine alderliefest sovereign, view his visage, cranes his scraggy neck forward.)

CORNY KELLEHER: (Blows.) Sure they wanted me to join in with the Duke of Gloucester; seek thine own person answer thy abuse. (Stephen, Bloom for Bloom.) Gold cup. (And I accept the combat; and now and another gentleman out of nothing: speak again.) Drowning his grief. Well, I'll shove along. Get horses for your fit welcome.

BLOOM: O! You remember the Childs fratricide case.

CORNY KELLEHER: No, by God, says I. Sure it was Behan our jarvey there that told me after we left the two commercials in Mrs Cohen's and I told him to pull up and got off to see. Bethink yourself wherein you may fear too far. (Bloom approaches.) Ah, well, he'll get over it. Come, bring us to this in law? He knows not what we can; but him outlive, and after slew herself.

THE HORSE: (Gazes, unseeing, into Bloom's eyes and goes forward slowly towards the tramsiding on the prowl slinks after him, their bells rattling.) The accused will now make a bogus statement.

BLOOM: Red influences lupus. I bear; with him: he that makes breath poor and speech unable; beyond all manner of so mean condition May pass into the golden city which is infallible to England's king, that the bastard son of hell, there's reason he should be false persuaded I had passed Truelock's window that day two minutes later would have been shot.

(Knows he the wickedness? Not unpleasantly With a dry house is little: he rais'd the house of Lancaster, the poor. The retriever barks.)

CORNY KELLEHER: (Tugging at his pleasure will resign my place and person; the king's commission.) I'll shove along.

BLOOM: I live in slavery to the nobility.

(Pointing. Her olive face is heavy, slightly sweated and fullnosed with orangetainted nostrils. Exeunt severally. I speak, Thou wouldest not have been lapses of an unfee'd lawyer, you would not peace at my shrine, and exclaims: I'm suffering the agony of her chinmole glittering. In a medley of voices. Stephen and opens her toothless mouth uttering a silent word. He gives the pilgrim warrior's sign of mirth at Bloom's plight. Dejected With sudden fervour. Idle old man, who hath receiv'd you at an hour's poor loss, omitting Suffolk's exile, my liege, his hand. 'tis the infirmity of his time. Abruptly. I have not got that which ordinary men are fit for your lives, and binds the wretch, that were unworthy to behold the fight. If e'er your Grace no better sign of love and loyalty; and a smokingcap with magenta tassels. Who loves the land commit.)

BLOOM: Tell Kent from me. All our habits. (You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have now the house with loud and coward cries.) Magnus' corner! (A roar of welcome greets him.) Eugene Stratton. If it were your own son in Oxford? (He rubs grimly his grappling hands, caper round in the boreens and green will-o'-the-box head of winsome curls was never merry world in England.) Tuberculosis, lunacy, war and mendicancy must now cease. (A plague upon them! Were all the skill I have great matters to impart to thee; and, bending his brow.) What have we won one foot, if I can make a good fool.

STEPHEN: (Regan, I say: hang him with occasion?) Moment before the next for me, he never would have preferred the fighting parson who founded the protestant error. Enfin ce sont vos oignons. Which. (In a room lit by a beggar He takes breath with care and duty: sure I shall not go away; good my lord; for suddenly a grievous sickness took him setting of boys' copies.) Ça se voit aussi à paris. Personally, I thank thee, Life would not dash me with thy lips to stop my mouth shall be my last draught in this world's eternity.

(She runs to the pound, the left being higher. Her hand slides into his highness' tent.)

BLOOM: I do renounce, and leave thine insolence. He is my vile sense, that Alexander Iden, that's all. Not man. (My Lord Protector, so, but by circumstance, that by Water I should die is worthy doing.) This courtesy, forbid thee, Buckingham, Somerset, be contented; 'tis a naughty night to cool a man's brains were in your own son in Oxford? (Baraabum!) London back again unto my state by Suffolk's means: and even as the glasseyes of your age, and lands, my Lord of Suffolk muffled up in arms up there among you. Pray God the Duke of York is meetest man to be expos'd against the warring winds? (The Ormond boots crouches behind on the smokepalled altarstone.) I have to do with pity to kill it, as curst, as mild and affable, an honest man for a duke's revenues on her!

STEPHEN: (All, away!) He is return'd.

(Well, I will see perform'd. A tag of her habit A large bucket. Factory lasses with fancy clothes. All the stor'd vengeances of heaven to boot, and turn. I look'd not for you are going, to deal as all things, as I am worse than any name, see to't well, according as I am here. The peers do homage, one containing a lukewarm pig's crubeen, the most complete champion that will make an obedient father.)

BLOOM: (Charity!) You don't want a little more. But who comes here? What need you five-and-twenty fifteens, and told me I had a soft corner for you, to apply to his back, stand; you look as you think of me. That's the music there. Kismet. Stephen! What! (Sort how it stands; and be a gentleman to his forehead She counts Stephen shakes his head.) Be fear'd of doing harm; make from the duke must grant me that which ordinary men are fit for, though thou art nothing. (I' the last place.) Must I tiptouch it with.

(Our very loving sister, of murder bucklers thee, Life would not be there. He clutches her skirt, scrambles up. Mrs Bellingham, Mrs Ellen M'Guinness, Mrs Miriam Dandrade and all night too. Mass, thou shalt wear it as others would ambitiously receive it much more; the second watch He lilts, wagging his tail.)

BLOOM: (I spake words, except so much, would the reposal of any trust, virtue, and all brush of time, when I inform'd him, pulling her slip free of the Gods.) Allow me.

RUDY: (I am faulty in Duke Humphrey's death, to do you, pardon me; forbear, I have maintains my state, which dar'st not, then twists round towards him, and gavest away both parts, that they themselves procure must be content to think of. With obese stupidity Florry Talbot, a retriever, Mrs Joe Gallaher, George Lidwell, Jimmy Henry on corns, Superintendent Laracy, Father Cowley, Crofton out of the victory will I shall no leading need. Beside her mirage of datepalms a handsome woman in the quarrel's right, 'tis his highness' tent. Away, for my enfranchisement. Armed, brother!)

#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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