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TheProjectGutenbergEBookofUlysses,byJamesJoyce

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Title:Ulysses
Author:JamesJoyce
ReleaseDate:August1,2008[EBook#4300]
LastUpdated:January9,2013
Language:English
Charactersetencoding:ISO88591
***STARTOFTHISPROJECTGUTENBERGEBOOKULYSSES***

ProducedbyColChoat,andDavidWidger

ULYSSES
byJamesJoyce

Contents
I
II
III

I
Stately,plumpBuckMulligancamefromthestairhead,bearingabowloflatheronwhicha
mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently
behindhimonthemildmorningair.Heheldthebowlaloftandintoned:
IntroiboadaltareDei.
Halted,hepeereddownthedarkwindingstairsandcalledoutcoarsely:
Comeup,Kinch!Comeup,youfearfuljesuit!
Solemnly he came forward and mounted the round gunrest. He faced about and blessed
gravely thrice the tower, the surrounding land and the awaking mountains. Then, catching
sightofStephenDedalus,hebenttowardshimandmaderapidcrossesintheair,gurglingin
histhroatandshakinghishead.StephenDedalus,displeasedandsleepy,leanedhisarmson
thetopofthestaircaseandlookedcoldlyattheshakinggurglingfacethatblessedhim,equine
initslength,andatthelightuntonsuredhair,grainedandhuedlikepaleoak.
BuckMulliganpeepedaninstantunderthemirrorandthencoveredthebowlsmartly.
Backtobarracks!hesaidsternly.
Headdedinapreacher'stone:
Forthis,Odearlybeloved,isthegenuineChristine:bodyandsoulandbloodandouns.
Slow music, please. Shut your eyes, gents. One moment. A little trouble about those white
corpuscles.Silence,all.
He peered sideways up and gave a long slow whistle of call, then paused awhile in rapt
attention,hisevenwhiteteethglisteninghereandtherewithgoldpoints.Chrysostomos.Two
strongshrillwhistlesansweredthroughthecalm.
Thanks,oldchap,hecriedbriskly.Thatwilldonicely.Switchoffthecurrent,willyou?
Heskippedoffthegunrestandlookedgravelyathiswatcher,gatheringabouthislegsthe
loose folds of his gown. The plump shadowed face and sullen oval jowl recalled a prelate,
patronofartsinthemiddleages.Apleasantsmilebrokequietlyoverhislips.
Themockeryofit!hesaidgaily.Yourabsurdname,anancientGreek!
He pointed his finger in friendly jest and went over to the parapet, laughing to himself.
StephenDedalussteppedup,followedhimwearilyhalfwayandsatdownontheedgeofthe
gunrest,watchinghimstillasheproppedhis mirroron theparapet,dipped the brushinthe
bowlandlatheredcheeksandneck.
BuckMulligan'sgayvoicewenton.
Mynameisabsurdtoo:MalachiMulligan,twodactyls.ButithasaHellenicring,hasn't
it?Trippingandsunnylikethebuckhimself.WemustgotoAthens.WillyoucomeifIcan
gettheaunttoforkouttwentyquid?
Helaidthebrushasideand,laughingwithdelight,cried:
Willhecome?Thejejunejesuit!
Ceasing,hebegantoshavewithcare.
Tellme,Mulligan,Stephensaidquietly.
Yes,mylove?
HowlongisHainesgoingtostayinthistower?

BuckMulliganshowedashavencheekoverhisrightshoulder.
God, isn't he dreadful? he said frankly. A ponderous Saxon. He thinks you're not a
gentleman. God, these bloody English! Bursting with money and indigestion. Because he
comes from Oxford. You know, Dedalus, you have the real Oxford manner. He can't make
youout.O,mynameforyouisthebest:Kinch,theknifeblade.
Heshavedwarilyoverhischin.
Hewasravingallnightaboutablackpanther,Stephensaid.Whereishisguncase?
Awofullunatic!Mulligansaid.Wereyouinafunk?
Iwas,Stephensaidwithenergyandgrowingfear.OuthereinthedarkwithamanIdon't
know raving and moaning to himself about shooting a black panther. You saved men from
drowning.I'mnotahero,however.IfhestaysonhereIamoff.
BuckMulliganfrownedatthelatheronhisrazorblade.Hehoppeddownfromhisperchand
begantosearchhistrouserpocketshastily.
Scutter!hecriedthickly.
Hecameovertothegunrestand,thrustingahandintoStephen'supperpocket,said:
Lendusaloanofyournoseragtowipemyrazor.
Stephen suffered him to pull out and hold up on show by its corner a dirty crumpled
handkerchief. Buck Mulligan wiped the razorblade neatly. Then, gazing over the
handkerchief,hesaid:
Thebard'snoserag!AnewartcolourforourIrishpoets:snotgreen.Youcanalmosttaste
it,can'tyou?
He mounted to the parapet again and gazed out over Dublin bay, his fair oakpale hair
stirringslightly.
God!hesaidquietly.Isn'ttheseawhatAlgycallsit:agreysweetmother?Thesnotgreen
sea. The scrotumtightening sea. Epi oinopa ponton. Ah, Dedalus, the Greeks! I must teach
you.Youmustreadthemintheoriginal.Thalatta!Thalatta!Sheisourgreatsweetmother.
Comeandlook.
Stephenstoodupandwentovertotheparapet.Leaningonithelookeddownonthewater
andonthemailboatclearingtheharbourmouthofKingstown.
Ourmightymother!BuckMulligansaid.
HeturnedabruptlyhisgreysearchingeyesfromtheseatoStephen'sface.
The aunt thinks you killed your mother, he said. That's why she won't let me have
anythingtodowithyou.
Someonekilledher,Stephensaidgloomily.
Youcouldhavekneltdown,damnit,Kinch,whenyourdyingmotheraskedyou,Buck
Mulligansaid.I'mhyperboreanasmuchasyou.Buttothinkofyourmotherbeggingyouwith
herlastbreathtokneeldownandprayforher.Andyourefused.Thereissomethingsinisterin
you...
Hebrokeoffandlatheredagainlightlyhisfarthercheek.Atolerantsmilecurledhislips.
But a lovely mummer! he murmured to himself. Kinch, the loveliest mummer of them
all!
Heshavedevenlyandwithcare,insilence,seriously.
Stephen,anelbowrestedonthejaggedgranite,leanedhispalmagainsthisbrowandgazed
at the fraying edge of his shiny black coatsleeve. Pain, that was not yet the pain of love,
frettedhisheart.Silently,inadreamshehadcometohimafterherdeath,herwastedbody
withinitsloosebrowngraveclothesgivingoffanodourofwaxandrosewood,herbreath,that
had bent upon him, mute, reproachful, a faint odour of wetted ashes. Across the threadbare
cuffedgehesawtheseahailedasagreatsweetmotherbythewellfedvoicebesidehim.The
ring of bay and skyline held a dull green mass of liquid. A bowl of white china had stood

besideher deathbed holding the green sluggish bile which she had torn up from herrotting
liverbyfitsofloudgroaningvomiting.
BuckMulliganwipedagainhisrazorblade.
Ah,poordogsbody!hesaidinakindvoice.Imustgiveyouashirtandafewnoserags.
Howarethesecondhandbreeks?
Theyfitwellenough,Stephenanswered.
BuckMulliganattackedthehollowbeneathhisunderlip.
Themockeryofit,hesaidcontentedly.Secondlegtheyshouldbe.Godknowswhatpoxy
bowsyleftthemoff.Ihavealovelypairwithahairstripe,grey.You'lllookspiffinginthem.
I'mnotjoking,Kinch.Youlookdamnwellwhenyou'redressed.
Thanks,Stephensaid.Ican'twearthemiftheyaregrey.
Hecan'twearthem,BuckMulligantoldhisfaceinthemirror.Etiquetteisetiquette.He
killshismotherbuthecan'tweargreytrousers.
Hefoldedhisrazorneatlyandwithstrokingpalpsoffingersfeltthesmoothskin.
Stephenturnedhisgazefromtheseaandtotheplumpfacewithitssmokebluemobileeyes.
ThatfellowIwaswithintheShiplastnight,saidBuckMulligan,says you have g.p.i.
He'supinDottyvillewithConnollyNorman.Generalparalysisoftheinsane!
He swept the mirror a half circle in the air to flash the tidings abroad in sunlight now
radiantonthesea.Hiscurlingshavenlipslaughedandtheedgesofhiswhiteglitteringteeth.
Laughterseizedallhisstrongwellknittrunk.
Lookatyourself,hesaid,youdreadfulbard!
Stephen bent forward and peered at the mirror held out to him, cleft by a crooked crack.
Haironend.Asheandothersseeme.Whochosethisfaceforme?Thisdogsbodytoridof
vermin.Itasksmetoo.
Ipincheditoutoftheskivvy'sroom,BuckMulligansaid.Itdoesherallright.Theaunt
alwayskeepsplainlookingservantsforMalachi.Leadhimnotintotemptation.Andhername
isUrsula.
Laughingagain,hebroughtthemirrorawayfromStephen'speeringeyes.
TherageofCalibanatnotseeinghisfaceinamirror,hesaid.IfWildewereonlyaliveto
seeyou!
Drawingbackandpointing,Stephensaidwithbitterness:
ItisasymbolofIrishart.Thecrackedlookingglassofaservant.
BuckMulligansuddenlylinkedhisarminStephen'sandwalkedwithhimroundthetower,
hisrazorandmirrorclackinginthepocketwherehehadthrustthem.
It'snotfairtoteaseyoulikethat,Kinch,isit?hesaidkindly.Godknowsyouhavemore
spiritthananyofthem.
Parriedagain.HefearsthelancetofmyartasIfearthatofhis.Thecoldsteelpen.
Crackedlookingglassofaservant!Tellthattotheoxychapdownstairsandtouchhimfor
aguinea.He'sstinkingwithmoneyandthinksyou'renotagentleman.Hisoldfellowmadehis
tinbysellingjalaptoZulusorsomebloodyswindleorother.God,Kinch,ifyouandIcould
onlyworktogetherwemightdosomethingfortheisland.Helleniseit.
Cranly'sarm.Hisarm.
Andtothinkofyourhavingtobegfromtheseswine.I'mtheonlyonethatknowswhat
youare.Whydon'tyoutrustmemore?Whathaveyouupyournoseagainstme?IsitHaines?
IfhemakesanynoisehereI'llbringdownSeymourandwe'llgivehimaraggingworsethan
theygaveCliveKempthorpe.
YoungshoutsofmoneyedvoicesinCliveKempthorpe'srooms.Palefaces:theyholdtheir
ribs with laughter, one clasping another. O, I shall expire! Break the news to her gently,

Aubrey!Ishalldie!Withslitribbonsofhisshirtwhippingtheairhehopsandhobblesround
thetable,withtrousersdownatheels,chasedbyAdesofMagdalenwiththetailor'sshears.A
scared calf's face gilded with marmalade. I don't want to be debagged! Don't you play the
giddyoxwithme!
Shouts from the open window startling evening in the quadrangle. A deaf gardener,
aproned, masked with Matthew Arnold's face, pushes his mower on the sombre lawn
watchingnarrowlythedancingmotesofgrasshalms.
Toourselves...newpaganism...omphalos.
Lethimstay,Stephensaid.There'snothingwrongwithhimexceptatnight.
Thenwhatisit?BuckMulliganaskedimpatiently.Coughitup.I'mquitefrankwithyou.
Whathaveyouagainstmenow?
They halted, looking towards the blunt cape of Bray Head that lay on the water like the
snoutofasleepingwhale.Stephenfreedhisarmquietly.
Doyouwishmetotellyou?heasked.
Yes,whatisit?BuckMulligananswered.Idon'trememberanything.
HelookedinStephen'sfaceashespoke.Alightwindpassedhisbrow,fanningsoftlyhis
fairuncombedhairandstirringsilverpointsofanxietyinhiseyes.
Stephen,depressedbyhisownvoice,said:
DoyourememberthefirstdayIwenttoyourhouseaftermymother'sdeath?
BuckMulliganfrownedquicklyandsaid:
What?Where?Ican'trememberanything.Irememberonlyideasandsensations.Why?
WhathappenedinthenameofGod?
Youweremakingtea,Stephensaid,andwentacrossthelandingtogetmorehotwater.
Yourmotherandsomevisitorcameoutofthedrawingroom.Sheaskedyouwhowasinyour
room.
Yes?BuckMulligansaid.WhatdidIsay?Iforget.
Yousaid,Stephenanswered,O,it'sonlyDedaluswhosemotherisbeastlydead.
AflushwhichmadehimseemyoungerandmoreengagingrosetoBuckMulligan'scheek.
DidIsaythat?heasked.Well?Whatharmisthat?
Heshookhisconstraintfromhimnervously.
And what is death, he asked, your mother's or yours or my own? You saw only your
motherdie.IseethempopoffeverydayintheMaterandRichmondandcutupintotripesin
the dissectingroom. It's a beastly thing and nothing else. It simply doesn't matter. You
wouldn't kneel down to pray for your mother on her deathbed when she asked you. Why?
Becauseyouhavethecursedjesuitstraininyou,onlyit'sinjectedthewrongway.Tomeit's
allamockeryandbeastly.Hercerebrallobesarenotfunctioning.ShecallsthedoctorsirPeter
Teazleandpicksbuttercupsoffthequilt.Humourhertillit'sover.Youcrossedherlastwish
in death and yet you sulk with me because I don't whinge like some hired mute from
Lalouette's.Absurd!IsupposeIdidsayit.Ididn'tmeantooffendthememoryofyourmother.
He had spoken himself into boldness. Stephen, shielding the gaping wounds which the
wordshadleftinhisheart,saidverycoldly:
Iamnotthinkingoftheoffencetomymother.
Ofwhatthen?BuckMulliganasked.
Oftheoffencetome,Stephenanswered.
BuckMulliganswungroundonhisheel.
O,animpossibleperson!heexclaimed.
Hewalkedoffquicklyroundtheparapet.Stephenstoodathispost,gazingoverthecalm
seatowardstheheadland.Seaandheadlandnowgrewdim.Pulseswerebeatinginhiseyes,

veilingtheirsight,andhefeltthefeverofhischeeks.
Avoicewithinthetowercalledloudly:
Areyouupthere,Mulligan?
I'mcoming,BuckMulligananswered.
HeturnedtowardsStephenandsaid:
Lookatthesea.Whatdoesitcareaboutoffences?ChuckLoyola,Kinch,andcomeon
down.TheSassenachwantshismorningrashers.
Hisheadhaltedagainforamomentatthetopofthestaircase,levelwiththeroof:
Don'tmopeoveritallday,hesaid.I'minconsequent.Giveupthemoodybrooding.
Hisheadvanishedbutthedroneofhisdescendingvoiceboomedoutofthestairhead:
Andnomoreturnasideandbrood
Uponlove'sbittermystery
ForFergusrulesthebrazencars.

Woodshadows floated silently by through the morning peace from the stairhead seaward
wherehegazed.Inshoreandfartheroutthemirrorofwaterwhitened,spurnedbylightshod
hurryingfeet.Whitebreastofthedimsea.Thetwiningstresses,twobytwo.Ahandplucking
theharpstrings,mergingtheirtwiningchords.Wavewhiteweddedwordsshimmeringonthe
dimtide.
Acloudbegantocoverthesunslowly,wholly,shadowingthebayindeepergreen.Itlay
beneathhim,abowlofbitterwaters.Fergus'song:Isangitaloneinthehouse,holdingdown
thelongdarkchords.Herdoorwasopen:shewantedtohearmymusic.Silentwithaweand
pity I went to her bedside. She was crying in her wretched bed. For those words, Stephen:
love'sbittermystery.
Wherenow?
Her secrets: old featherfans, tasselled dancecards, powdered with musk, a gaud of amber
beadsinherlockeddrawer.Abirdcagehunginthesunnywindowofherhousewhenshewas
a girl. She heard old Royce sing in the pantomime of Turko the Terrible and laughed with
otherswhenhesang:
Iamtheboy
Thatcanenjoy
Invisibility.

Phantasmalmirth,foldedaway:muskperfumed.
Andnomoreturnasideandbrood.
Folded away in the memory of nature with her toys. Memories beset his brooding brain.
Her glass of water from the kitchen tap when she had approached the sacrament. A cored
apple, filled with brown sugar, roasting for her at the hob on a dark autumn evening. Her
shapelyfingernailsreddenedbythebloodofsquashedlicefromthechildren'sshirts.
In a dream, silently, she had come to him, her wasted body within its loose graveclothes
givingoffanodourofwaxandrosewood,herbreath,bentoverhimwithmutesecretwords,a
faintodourofwettedashes.
Her glazing eyes, staring out of death, to shake and bend my soul. On me alone. The
ghostcandle to light her agony. Ghostly light on the tortured face. Her hoarse loud breath
rattlinginhorror,whileallprayedontheirknees.Hereyesonmetostrikemedown.Liliata
rutilantiumteconfessorumturmacircumdet:iubilantiumtevirginumchorusexcipiat.
Ghoul!Chewerofcorpses!
No,mother!Letmebeandletmelive.
Kinchahoy!
BuckMulligan'svoicesangfromwithinthetower.Itcamenearerupthestaircase,calling

again. Stephen, still trembling at his soul's cry, heard warm running sunlight and in the air
behindhimfriendlywords.
Dedalus, come down, like a good mosey. Breakfast is ready. Haines is apologising for
wakinguslastnight.It'sallright.
I'mcoming,Stephensaid,turning.
Do,forJesus'sake,BuckMulligansaid.Formysakeandforalloursakes.
Hisheaddisappearedandreappeared.
ItoldhimyoursymbolofIrishart.Hesaysit'sveryclever.Touchhimforaquid,will
you?Aguinea,Imean.
Igetpaidthismorning,Stephensaid.
Theschoolkip?BuckMulligansaid.Howmuch?Fourquid?Lendusone.
Ifyouwantit,Stephensaid.
Fourshiningsovereigns,BuckMulligancriedwithdelight.We'llhaveagloriousdrunk
toastonishthedruidydruids.Fouromnipotentsovereigns.
He flung up his hands and tramped down the stone stairs, singing out of tune with a
Cockneyaccent:
O,won'twehaveamerrytime,
Drinkingwhisky,beerandwine!
Oncoronation,
Coronationday!
O,won'twehaveamerrytime
Oncoronationday!

Warm sunshine merrying over the sea. The nickel shavingbowl shone, forgotten, on the
parapet.WhyshouldIbringitdown?Orleaveitthereallday,forgottenfriendship?
Hewentovertoit,helditinhishandsawhile,feelingitscoolness,smellingtheclammy
slaver of the lather in which the brush was stuck. So I carried the boat of incense then at
Clongowes.Iamanothernowandyetthesame.Aservanttoo.Aserverofaservant.
InthegloomydomedlivingroomofthetowerBuckMulligan'sgownedformmovedbriskly
toandfroaboutthehearth,hidingandrevealingitsyellowglow.Twoshaftsofsoftdaylight
fellacrosstheflaggedfloorfromthehighbarbacans:andatthemeetingoftheirraysacloud
ofcoalsmokeandfumesoffriedgreasefloated,turning.
We'llbechoked,BuckMulligansaid.Haines,openthatdoor,willyou?
Stephenlaidtheshavingbowlonthelocker.Atallfigurerosefromthehammockwhereit
hadbeensitting,wenttothedoorwayandpulledopentheinnerdoors.
Haveyouthekey?avoiceasked.
Dedalushasit,BuckMulligansaid.JaneyMack,I'mchoked!
Hehowled,withoutlookingupfromthefire:
Kinch!
It'sinthelock,Stephensaid,comingforward.
Thekeyscrapedroundharshlytwiceand,whentheheavydoorhadbeensetajar,welcome
light and bright air entered. Haines stood at the doorway, looking out. Stephen haled his
upendedvalisetothetableandsatdowntowait.BuckMulligantossedthefryontothedish
beside him. Then he carried the dish and a large teapot over to the table, set them down
heavilyandsighedwithrelief.
I'mmelting,hesaid,asthecandleremarkedwhen...But,hush!Notawordmoreonthat
subject!Kinch,wakeup!Bread,butter,honey.Haines,comein.Thegrubisready.Blessus,
OLord,andthesethygifts.Where'sthesugar?O,jay,there'snomilk.
Stephenfetchedtheloafandthepotofhoneyandthebuttercoolerfromthelocker.Buck
Mulligansatdowninasuddenpet.

Whatsortofakipisthis?hesaid.Itoldhertocomeaftereight.
Wecandrinkitblack,Stephensaidthirstily.There'salemoninthelocker.
O,damnyouandyourParisfads!BuckMulligansaid.IwantSandycovemilk.
Hainescameinfromthedoorwayandsaidquietly:
Thatwomaniscomingupwiththemilk.
TheblessingsofGodonyou!BuckMulligancried,jumpingupfromhischair.Sitdown.
Pourouttheteathere.Thesugarisinthebag.Here,Ican'tgofumblingatthedamnedeggs.
Hehackedthroughthefryonthedishandslappeditoutonthreeplates,saying:
InnominePatrisetFiliietSpiritusSancti.
Hainessatdowntopouroutthetea.
I'mgivingyoutwolumpseach,hesaid.But,Isay,Mulligan,youdo make strong tea,
don'tyou?
BuckMulligan,hewingthickslicesfromtheloaf,saidinanoldwoman'swheedlingvoice:
WhenI makes tea I makes tea,as old mother Grogansaid. Andwhen I makeswaterI
makeswater.
ByJove,itistea,Hainessaid.
BuckMulliganwentonhewingandwheedling:
SoIdo,MrsCahill,saysshe.Begob,ma'am,saysMrsCahill,Godsendyoudon'tmake
themintheonepot.
Helungedtowardshismessmatesinturnathicksliceofbread,impaledonhisknife.
That'sfolk,hesaidveryearnestly,foryourbook,Haines.Fivelinesoftextandtenpages
ofnotesaboutthefolkandthefishgodsofDundrum.Printedbytheweirdsistersintheyear
ofthebigwind.
HeturnedtoStephenandaskedinafinepuzzledvoice,liftinghisbrows:
Can you recall, brother, is mother Grogan's tea and water pot spoken of in the
MabinogionorisitintheUpanishads?
Idoubtit,saidStephengravely.
Doyounow?BuckMulligansaidinthesametone.Yourreasons,pray?
I fancy, Stephen said as he ate, it did not exist in or out of the Mabinogion. Mother
Groganwas,oneimagines,akinswomanofMaryAnn.
BuckMulligan'sfacesmiledwithdelight.
Charming!hesaidinafinicalsweetvoice,showinghiswhiteteethandblinkinghiseyes
pleasantly.Doyouthinkshewas?Quitecharming!
Then,suddenlyovercloudingallhisfeatures,hegrowledinahoarsenedraspingvoiceashe
hewedagainvigorouslyattheloaf:
ForoldMaryAnn
Shedoesn'tcareadamn.
But,hisingupherpetticoats...

Hecrammedhismouthwithfryandmunchedanddroned.
Thedoorwaywasdarkenedbyanenteringform.
Themilk,sir!
Comein,ma'am,Mulligansaid.Kinch,getthejug.
AnoldwomancameforwardandstoodbyStephen'selbow.
That'salovelymorning,sir,shesaid.GlorybetoGod.
Towhom?Mulligansaid,glancingather.Ah,tobesure!
Stephenreachedbackandtookthemilkjugfromthelocker.

The islanders, Mulligan said to Haines casually, speak frequently of the collector of
prepuces.
Howmuch,sir?askedtheoldwoman.
Aquart,Stephensaid.
Hewatchedherpourintothemeasureandthenceintothejugrichwhitemilk,nothers.Old
shrunkenpaps.Shepouredagainameasurefulandatilly.Oldandsecretshehadenteredfrom
amorningworld,maybeamessenger. Shepraised thegoodness of the milk, pouring itout.
Crouching by a patient cow at daybreak in the lush field, a witch on her toadstool, her
wrinkled fingers quick at the squirting dugs. They lowed about her whom they knew,
dewsilky cattle. Silk of the kine and poor old woman, names given her in old times. A
wanderingcrone,lowlyformofanimmortalservingherconquerorandhergaybetrayer,their
commoncuckquean,amessengerfromthesecretmorning.Toserveortoupbraid,whetherhe
couldnottell:butscornedtobegherfavour.
Itisindeed,ma'am,BuckMulligansaid,pouringmilkintotheircups.
Tasteit,sir,shesaid.
Hedrankatherbidding.
If we could live on good food like that, he said to her somewhat loudly, we wouldn't
havethecountryfullofrottenteethandrottenguts.Livinginabogswamp,eatingcheapfood
andthestreetspavedwithdust,horsedungandconsumptives'spits.
Areyouamedicalstudent,sir?theoldwomanasked.
Iam,ma'am,BuckMulligananswered.
Lookatthatnow,shesaid.
Stephen listened in scornful silence. She bows her old head to a voice that speaks to her
loudly,herbonesetter,hermedicineman:mesheslights.Tothevoicethatwillshriveandoil
for the grave all there is of her but her woman's unclean loins, of man's flesh made not in
God's likeness, the serpent's prey. And to the loud voice that now bids her be silent with
wonderingunsteadyeyes.
Doyouunderstandwhathesays?Stephenaskedher.
IsitFrenchyouaretalking,sir?theoldwomansaidtoHaines.
Hainesspoketoheragainalongerspeech,confidently.
Irish,BuckMulligansaid.IsthereGaeliconyou?
IthoughtitwasIrish,shesaid,bythesoundofit.Areyoufromthewest,sir?
IamanEnglishman,Hainesanswered.
He'sEnglish,BuckMulligansaid,andhethinksweoughttospeakIrishinIreland.
Sure we ought to, the old woman said, and I'm ashamed I don't speak the language
myself.I'mtoldit'sagrandlanguagebythemthatknows.
Grandisnonameforit,saidBuckMulligan.Wonderfulentirely.Fillusoutsomemore
tea,Kinch.Wouldyoulikeacup,ma'am?
No,thankyou,sir,theoldwomansaid,slippingtheringofthemilkcanonherforearm
andabouttogo.
Hainessaidtoher:
Haveyouyourbill?Wehadbetterpayher,Mulligan,hadn'twe?
Stephenfilledagainthethreecups.
Bill,sir?shesaid,halting.Well,it'ssevenmorningsapintattwopenceisseventwosisa
shillingandtwopenceoverandthesethreemorningsaquartatfourpenceisthreequartsisa
shilling.That'sashillingandoneandtwoistwoandtwo,sir.
Buck Mulligan sighed and, having filled his mouth with a crust thickly buttered on both
sides,stretchedforthhislegsandbegantosearchhistrouserpockets.

Payupandlookpleasant,Hainessaidtohim,smiling.
Stephen filled a third cup, a spoonful of tea colouring faintly the thick rich milk. Buck
Mulliganbroughtupaflorin,twisteditroundinhisfingersandcried:
Amiracle!
Hepasseditalongthetabletowardstheoldwoman,saying:
Asknothingmoreofme,sweet.AllIcangiveyouIgive.
Stephenlaidthecoininheruneagerhand.
We'llowetwopence,hesaid.
Timeenough,sir,shesaid,takingthecoin.Timeenough.Goodmorning,sir.
Shecurtseyedandwentout,followedbyBuckMulligan'stenderchant:
Heartofmyheart,wereitmore,
Morewouldbelaidatyourfeet.

HeturnedtoStephenandsaid:
Seriously, Dedalus. I'm stony. Hurry out to your school kip and bring us back some
money.Todaythebardsmustdrinkandjunket.Irelandexpectsthateverymanthisdaywill
dohisduty.
Thatremindsme,Hainessaid,rising,thatIhavetovisityournationallibrarytoday.
Ourswimfirst,BuckMulligansaid.
HeturnedtoStephenandaskedblandly:
Isthisthedayforyourmonthlywash,Kinch?
ThenhesaidtoHaines:
Theuncleanbardmakesapointofwashingonceamonth.
AllIrelandiswashedbythegulfstream,Stephensaidashelethoneytrickleoveraslice
oftheloaf.
Hainesfromthecornerwherehewasknottingeasilyascarfabouttheloose collar of his
tennisshirtspoke:
Iintendtomakeacollectionofyoursayingsifyouwillletme.
Speakingtome.Theywashandtubandscrub.Agenbiteofinwit.Conscience.Yethere'sa
spot.
That one about the cracked lookingglass of a servant being the symbol of Irish art is
deucedgood.
BuckMulligankickedStephen'sfootunderthetableandsaidwithwarmthoftone:
WaittillyouhearhimonHamlet,Haines.
Well,Imeanit,Hainessaid,stillspeakingtoStephen.Iwasjustthinkingofitwhenthat
pooroldcreaturecamein.
WouldImakeanymoneybyit?Stephenasked.
Haineslaughedand,ashetookhissoftgreyhatfromtheholdfastofthehammock,said:
Idon'tknow,I'msure.
Hestrolledouttothedoorway.BuckMulliganbentacrosstoStephenandsaidwithcoarse
vigour:
Youputyourhoofinitnow.Whatdidyousaythatfor?
Well?Stephensaid.Theproblemistogetmoney.Fromwhom?Fromthemilkwomanor
fromhim.It'satossup,Ithink.
Iblowhimoutaboutyou,BuckMulligansaid,andthenyoucomealongwithyourlousy
leerandyourgloomyjesuitjibes.
Iseelittlehope,Stephensaid,fromherorfromhim.

BuckMulligansighedtragicallyandlaidhishandonStephen'sarm.
Fromme,Kinch,hesaid.
Inasuddenlychangedtoneheadded:
To tell you the God's truth I think you're right. Damn all else they are good for. Why
don'tyouplaythemasIdo?Tohellwiththemall.Letusgetoutofthekip.
Hestoodup,gravelyungirdledanddisrobedhimselfofhisgown,sayingresignedly:
Mulliganisstrippedofhisgarments.
Heemptiedhispocketsontothetable.
There'syoursnotrag,hesaid.
Andputtingonhisstiffcollarandrebellioustiehespoketothem,chidingthem,andtohis
dangling watchchain. His hands plunged and rummaged in his trunk while he called for a
clean handkerchief. God, we'll simply have to dress the character. I want puce gloves and
green boots. Contradiction. Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself.
MercurialMalachi.Alimpblackmissileflewoutofhistalkinghands.
Andthere'syourLatinquarterhat,hesaid.
Stephenpickeditupandputiton.Hainescalledtothemfromthedoorway:
Areyoucoming,youfellows?
I'mready,BuckMulligananswered,goingtowardsthedoor.Comeout,Kinch.Youhave
eaten all we left, I suppose. Resigned he passed out with grave words and gait, saying,
wellnighwithsorrow:
AndgoingforthhemetButterly.
Stephen, taking his ashplant from its leaningplace, followed them out and, as they went
downtheladder,pulledtotheslowirondoorandlockedit.Heputthehugekeyinhisinner
pocket.
AtthefootoftheladderBuckMulliganasked:
Didyoubringthekey?
Ihaveit,Stephensaid,precedingthem.
He walked on. Behind him he heard Buck Mulligan club with his heavy bathtowel the
leadershootsoffernsorgrasses.
Down,sir!Howdareyou,sir!
Hainesasked:
Doyoupayrentforthistower?
Twelvequid,BuckMulligansaid.
Tothesecretaryofstateforwar,Stephenaddedoverhisshoulder.
TheyhaltedwhileHainessurveyedthetowerandsaidatlast:
Ratherbleakinwintertime,Ishouldsay.Martelloyoucallit?
BillyPitthadthembuilt,BuckMulligansaid,whentheFrenchwereonthesea.Butours
istheomphalos.
WhatisyourideaofHamlet?HainesaskedStephen.
No, no, Buck Mulligan shouted in pain. I'm not equal to Thomas Aquinas and the
fiftyfivereasonshehasmadeouttopropitup.WaittillIhaveafewpintsinmefirst.
HeturnedtoStephen,saying,ashepulleddownneatlythepeaksofhisprimrosewaistcoat:
Youcouldn'tmanageitunderthreepints,Kinch,couldyou?
Ithaswaitedsolong,Stephensaidlistlessly,itcanwaitlonger.
Youpiquemycuriosity,Hainessaidamiably.Isitsomeparadox?
Pooh!BuckMulligansaid.WehavegrownoutofWildeandparadoxes.It'squitesimple.
HeprovesbyalgebrathatHamlet'sgrandsonisShakespeare'sgrandfatherandthathehimself

istheghostofhisownfather.
What?Hainessaid,beginningtopointatStephen.Hehimself?
Buck Mulligan slung his towel stolewise round his neck and, bending in loose laughter,
saidtoStephen'sear:
O,shadeofKinchtheelder!Japhetinsearchofafather!
We'realwaystiredinthemorning,StephensaidtoHaines.Anditisratherlongtotell.
BuckMulligan,walkingforwardagain,raisedhishands.
ThesacredpintalonecanunbindthetongueofDedalus,hesaid.
Imeantosay,HainesexplainedtoStephenastheyfollowed,thistowerandthesecliffs
hereremindmesomehowofElsinore.Thatbeetleso'erhisbaseintothesea,isn'tit?
Buck Mulligan turned suddenly for an instant towards Stephen but did not speak. In the
brightsilentinstantStephensawhisownimageincheapdustymourningbetweentheirgay
attires.
It'sawonderfultale,Hainessaid,bringingthemtohaltagain.
Eyes, pale as the sea the wind had freshened, paler, firm and prudent. The seas'ruler,he
gazedsouthwardoverthebay,emptysaveforthesmokeplumeofthemailboatvagueonthe
brightskylineandasailtackingbytheMuglins.
Ireadatheologicalinterpretationofitsomewhere,hesaidbemused.TheFatherandthe
Sonidea.TheSonstrivingtobeatonedwiththeFather.
Buck Mulligan at once put on a blithe broadly smiling face. He looked at them, his
wellshapedmouthopenhappily,hiseyes,fromwhichhehadsuddenlywithdrawnallshrewd
sense,blinkingwithmadgaiety.Hemovedadoll'sheadtoandfro,thebrimsofhisPanama
hatquivering,andbegantochantinaquiethappyfoolishvoice:
I'mthequeerestyoungfellowthateveryouheard.
Mymother'sajew,myfather'sabird.
WithJosephthejoinerIcannotagree.
Sohere'stodisciplesandCalvary.

Heheldupaforefingerofwarning.
IfanyonethinksthatIamn'tdivine
He'llgetnofreedrinkswhenI'mmakingthewine
Buthavetodrinkwaterandwishitwereplain
Thatimakewhenthewinebecomeswateragain.

HetuggedswiftlyatStephen'sashplantinfarewelland,runningforwardtoabrowofthe
cliff, fluttered his hands at his sides like fins or wings of one about to rise in the air, and
chanted:
Goodbye,now,goodbye!WritedownallIsaid
AndtellTom,DickandHarryIrosefromthedead.
What'sbredinthebonecannotfailmetofly
AndOlivet'sbreezy...Goodbye,now,goodbye!

He capered before them down towards the fortyfoot hole, fluttering his winglike hands,
leaping nimbly, Mercury's hat quivering in the fresh wind that bore back to them his brief
birdsweetcries.
Haines,whohadbeenlaughingguardedly,walkedonbesideStephenandsaid:
Weoughtn'ttolaugh,Isuppose.He'sratherblasphemous.I'mnotabelievermyself,that
is to say. Still his gaiety takes the harm out of it somehow, doesn't it? What did he call it?
JosephtheJoiner?
TheballadofjokingJesus,Stephenanswered.
O,Hainessaid,youhavehearditbefore?
Threetimesaday,aftermeals,Stephensaiddrily.

You'renotabeliever,areyou?Hainesasked.Imean,abelieverinthenarrowsenseof
theword.CreationfromnothingandmiraclesandapersonalGod.
There'sonlyonesenseoftheword,itseemstome,Stephensaid.
Hainesstoppedtotakeoutasmoothsilvercaseinwhichtwinkledagreenstone.Hesprang
itopenwithhisthumbandofferedit.
Thankyou,Stephensaid,takingacigarette.
Haineshelpedhimselfandsnappedthecaseto.Heputitbackinhissidepocketandtook
fromhiswaistcoatpocketanickeltinderbox,sprangitopentoo,and,havinglithiscigarette,
heldtheflamingspunktowardsStephenintheshellofhishands.
Yes,ofcourse,hesaid,astheywentonagain.Eitheryoubelieveoryoudon't,isn'tit?
PersonallyIcouldn'tstomachthatideaofapersonalGod.Youdon'tstandforthat,Isuppose?
You behold in me, Stephen said with grim displeasure, a horrible example of free
thought.
Hewalkedon,waitingtobespokento,trailinghisashplantbyhisside.Itsferrulefollowed
lightlyonthepath,squealingathisheels.Myfamiliar,afterme,calling,Steeeeeeeeeeeephen!
A wavering line along the path. They will walk on it tonight, coming here in the dark. He
wantsthatkey.Itismine.Ipaidtherent.NowIeathissaltbread.Givehimthekeytoo.All.
Hewillaskforit.Thatwasinhiseyes.
Afterall,Hainesbegan...
Stephenturnedandsawthatthecoldgazewhichhadmeasuredhimwasnotallunkind.
Afterall,Ishouldthinkyouareabletofreeyourself.Youareyourownmaster,itseems
tome.
Iamaservantoftwomasters,Stephensaid,anEnglishandanItalian.
Italian?Hainessaid.
Acrazyqueen,oldandjealous.Kneeldownbeforeme.
Andathird,Stephensaid,thereiswhowantsmeforoddjobs.
Italian?Hainessaidagain.Whatdoyoumean?
The imperial British state, Stephen answered, his colour rising, and the holy Roman
catholicandapostolicchurch.
Hainesdetachedfromhisunderlipsomefibresoftobaccobeforehespoke.
Icanquiteunderstandthat,hesaidcalmly.AnIrishmanmustthinklikethat,Idaresay.
WefeelinEnglandthatwehavetreatedyouratherunfairly.Itseemshistoryistoblame.
TheproudpotenttitlesclangedoverStephen'smemorythetriumphoftheirbrazenbells:et
unamsanctamcatholicametapostolicamecclesiam:theslowgrowthandchangeofriteand
dogmalikehisownrarethoughts,achemistryofstars.Symboloftheapostlesinthemassfor
popeMarcellus,thevoicesblended,singingaloneloudinaffirmation:andbehindtheirchant
the vigilant angel of the church militant disarmed and menaced her heresiarchs. A horde of
heresiesfleeingwithmitresawry:PhotiusandthebroodofmockersofwhomMulliganwas
one,andArius,warringhislifelongupontheconsubstantialityoftheSonwiththeFather,and
Valentine, spurning Christ's terrene body, and the subtle African heresiarch Sabellius who
heldthattheFatherwasHimselfHisownSon.WordsMulliganhadspokenamomentsincein
mockerytothestranger.Idlemockery.Thevoidawaitssurelyallthemthatweavethewind:a
menace, a disarming and a worsting from those embattled angels of the church, Michael's
host,whodefendhereverinthehourofconflictwiththeirlancesandtheirshields.
Hear,hear!Prolongedapplause.Zut!NomdeDieu!
OfcourseI'maBritisher,Haines'svoicesaid,andIfeelasone.Idon'twanttoseemy
countryfallintothehandsofGermanjewseither.That'sournationalproblem,I'mafraid,just
now.
Twomenstoodatthevergeofthecliff,watching:businessman,boatman.

She'smakingforBullockharbour.
Theboatmannoddedtowardsthenorthofthebaywithsomedisdain.
There'sfivefathomsoutthere,hesaid.It'llbesweptupthatwaywhenthetidecomesin
aboutone.It'sninedaystoday.
Themanthatwasdrowned.Asailveeringabouttheblankbaywaitingforaswollenbundle
tobobup,rollovertothesunapuffyface,saltwhite.HereIam.
They followed the winding path down to the creek. Buck Mulligan stood on a stone, in
shirtsleeves,hisunclippedtieripplingoverhisshoulder.Ayoungmanclingingtoaspurof
rocknearhim,movedslowlyfrogwisehisgreenlegsinthedeepjellyofthewater.
Isthebrotherwithyou,Malachi?
DowninWestmeath.WiththeBannons.
Still there? I got a card from Bannon. Says he found a sweet young thing down there.
Photogirlhecallsher.
Snapshot,eh?Briefexposure.
BuckMulligansatdowntounlacehisboots.Anelderlymanshotupnearthespurofrocka
blowing red face. He scrambled up by the stones, water glistening on his pate and on its
garlandofgreyhair,waterrillingoverhischestandpaunchandspillingjetsoutofhisblack
saggingloincloth.
Buck Mulligan made way for him to scramble past and, glancing at Haines and Stephen,
crossedhimselfpiouslywithhisthumbnailatbrowandlipsandbreastbone.
Seymour'sbackintown,theyoungmansaid,graspingagainhisspurofrock.Chucked
medicineandgoinginforthearmy.
Ah,gotoGod!BuckMulligansaid.
Goingovernextweektostew.YouknowthatredCarlislegirl,Lily?
Yes.
Spooningwithhimlastnightonthepier.Thefatherisrottowithmoney.
Issheupthepole?
BetteraskSeymourthat.
Seymourableedingofficer!BuckMulligansaid.
Henoddedtohimselfashedrewoffhistrousersandstoodup,sayingtritely:
Redheadedwomenbucklikegoats.
Hebrokeoffinalarm,feelinghissideunderhisflappingshirt.
My twelfth rib is gone, he cried. I'm the Uebermensch. Toothless Kinch and I, the
supermen.
Hestruggledoutofhisshirtandflungitbehindhimtowherehisclotheslay.
Areyougoinginhere,Malachi?
Yes.Makeroominthebed.
Theyoungmanshovedhimselfbackwardthroughthewaterandreachedthemiddleofthe
creekintwolongcleanstrokes.Hainessatdownonastone,smoking.
Areyounotcomingin?BuckMulliganasked.
Lateron,Hainessaid.Notonmybreakfast.
Stephenturnedaway.
I'mgoing,Mulligan,hesaid.
Giveusthatkey,Kinch,BuckMulligansaid,tokeepmychemiseflat.
Stephenhandedhimthekey.BuckMulliganlaiditacrosshisheapedclothes.
Andtwopence,hesaid,forapint.Throwitthere.

Stephen threw two pennies on the soft heap. Dressing, undressing. Buck Mulligan erect,
withjoinedhandsbeforehim,saidsolemnly:
HewhostealethfromthepoorlendethtotheLord.ThusspakeZarathustra.
Hisplumpbodyplunged.
We'llseeyouagain,Hainessaid,turningasStephenwalkedupthepathandsmilingat
wildIrish.
Hornofabull,hoofofahorse,smileofaSaxon.
TheShip,BuckMulligancried.Halftwelve.
Good,Stephensaid.
Hewalkedalongtheupwardcurvingpath.
Liliatarutilantium.
Turmacircumdet.
Iubilantiumtevirginum.

The priest's grey nimbus in a niche where he dressed discreetly. I will not sleep here
tonight.HomealsoIcannotgo.
Avoice,sweettonedandsustained,calledtohimfromthesea.Turningthecurvehewaved
hishand.Itcalledagain.Asleekbrownhead,aseal's,faroutonthewater,round.
Usurper.
You,Cochrane,whatcitysentforhim?
Tarentum,sir.
Verygood.Well?
Therewasabattle,sir.
Verygood.Where?
Theboy'sblankfaceaskedtheblankwindow.
Fabledbythedaughtersofmemory.Andyetitwasinsomewayifnotasmemoryfabledit.
A phrase, then, of impatience, thud ofBlake's wings ofexcess. I hear the ruin of all space,
shatteredglassandtopplingmasonry,andtimeonelividfinalflame.What'sleftusthen?
Iforgettheplace,sir.279B.C.
Asculum,Stephensaid,glancingatthenameanddateinthegorescarredbook.
Yes,sir.Andhesaid:Anothervictorylikethatandwearedonefor.
That phrase the world had remembered. A dull ease of the mind. From a hill above a
corpsestrewnplainageneralspeakingtohisofficers,leaneduponhisspear.Anygeneralto
anyofficers.Theylendear.
You,Armstrong,Stephensaid.WhatwastheendofPyrrhus?
EndofPyrrhus,sir?
Iknow,sir.Askme,sir,Comynsaid.
Wait.You,Armstrong.DoyouknowanythingaboutPyrrhus?
AbagoffigrollslaysnuglyinArmstrong'ssatchel.Hecurledthembetweenhispalmsat
whiles and swallowed them softly. Crumbs adhered to the tissue of his lips. A sweetened
boy'sbreath.Welloffpeople,proudthattheireldestsonwasinthenavy.Vicoroad,Dalkey.
Pyrrhus,sir?Pyrrhus,apier.
Alllaughed.Mirthlesshighmaliciouslaughter.Armstronglookedroundathisclassmates,
sillygleeinprofile.Inamomenttheywilllaughmoreloudly,awareofmylackofruleandof
thefeestheirpapaspay.
Tellmenow,Stephensaid,pokingtheboy'sshoulderwiththebook,whatisapier.
Apier,sir,Armstrongsaid.Athingoutinthewater.Akindofabridge.Kingstownpier,
sir.

Somelaughedagain:mirthlessbutwithmeaning.Twointhebackbenchwhispered.Yes.
Theyknew:hadneverlearnednoreverbeeninnocent.All.Withenvyhewatchedtheirfaces:
Edith, Ethel, Gerty, Lily. Their likes: their breaths, too, sweetened with tea and jam, their
braceletstitteringinthestruggle.
Kingstownpier,Stephensaid.Yes,adisappointedbridge.
Thewordstroubledtheirgaze.
How,sir?Comynasked.Abridgeisacrossariver.
For Haines's chapbook. Noone here to hear. Tonight deftly amid wild drink and talk, to
piercethepolishedmailofhismind.Whatthen?Ajesteratthecourtofhismaster,indulged
anddisesteemed,winningaclementmaster'spraise.Whyhadtheychosenallthatpart?Not
whollyforthesmoothcaress.Forthemtoohistorywasatalelikeanyothertoooftenheard,
theirlandapawnshop.
Had Pyrrhus not fallen by a beldam's hand in Argos or Julius Caesar not been knifed to
death.Theyarenottobethoughtaway.Timehasbrandedthemandfetteredtheyarelodged
in the room of the infinite possibilities they have ousted. But can those have been possible
seeingthattheyneverwere?Orwasthatonlypossiblewhichcametopass?Weave,weaverof
thewind.
Tellusastory,sir.
O,do,sir.Aghoststory.
Wheredoyoubegininthis?Stephenasked,openinganotherbook.
Weepnomore,Comynsaid.
Goonthen,Talbot.
Andthestory,sir?
After,Stephensaid.Goon,Talbot.
Aswarthyboyopenedabookandproppeditnimblyunderthebreastworkofhissatchel.
Herecitedjerksofversewithoddglancesatthetext:
Weepnomore,wofulshepherds,weepnomore
ForLycidas,yoursorrow,isnotdead,
Sunkthoughhebebeneaththewateryfloor...

It must be a movement then, an actuality of the possible as possible. Aristotle's phrase


formeditselfwithinthegabbledversesandfloatedoutintothestudioussilenceofthelibrary
ofSaintGenevievewherehehadread,shelteredfromthesinofParis,nightbynight.Byhis
elbowadelicateSiameseconnedahandbookofstrategy.Fedandfeedingbrainsabout me:
underglowlamps,impaled,withfaintlybeatingfeelers:andinmymind'sdarknessaslothof
the underworld, reluctant, shy of brightness, shifting her dragon scaly folds. Thought is the
thoughtofthought.Tranquilbrightness.Thesoulisinamannerallthatis:thesoulistheform
offorms.Tranquilitysudden,vast,candescent:formofforms.
Talbotrepeated:
ThroughthedearmightofHimthatwalkedthewaves,
Throughthedearmight...

Turnover,Stephensaidquietly.Idon'tseeanything.
What,sir?Talbotaskedsimply,bendingforward.
Hishandturnedthepageover.Heleanedbackandwentonagain,havingjustremembered.
Ofhimthatwalkedthewaves.Herealsooverthesecravenheartshisshadowliesandonthe
scoffer'sheartandlipsandonmine.Itliesupontheireagerfaceswhoofferedhimacoinof
thetribute.ToCaesarwhatisCaesar's,toGodwhatisGod's.Alonglookfromdarkeyes,a
riddlingsentencetobewovenandwovenonthechurch'slooms.Ay.
Riddleme,riddleme,randyro.
Myfathergavemeseedstosow.

Talbotslidhisclosedbookintohissatchel.
HaveIheardall?Stephenasked.
Yes,sir.Hockeyatten,sir.
Halfday,sir.Thursday.
Whocananswerariddle?Stephenasked.
They bundled their books away, pencils clacking, pages rustling. Crowding together they
strappedandbuckledtheirsatchels,allgabblinggaily:
Ariddle,sir?Askme,sir.
O,askme,sir.
Ahardone,sir.
Thisistheriddle,Stephensaid:
Thecockcrew,
Theskywasblue:
Thebellsinheaven
Werestrikingeleven.
'Tistimeforthispoorsoul
Togotoheaven.

Whatisthat?
What,sir?
Again,sir.Wedidn'thear.
Theireyesgrewbiggerasthelineswererepeated.AfterasilenceCochranesaid:
Whatisit,sir?Wegiveitup.
Stephen,histhroatitching,answered:
Thefoxburyinghisgrandmotherunderahollybush.
Hestoodupandgaveashoutofnervouslaughtertowhichtheircriesechoeddismay.
Astickstruckthedoorandavoiceinthecorridorcalled:
Hockey!
Theybrokeasunder,sidlingoutoftheirbenches,leapingthem.Quicklytheyweregoneand
fromthelumberroomcametherattleofsticksandclamouroftheirbootsandtongues.
Sargent who alone had lingered came forward slowly, showing an open copybook. His
thickhairandscraggyneckgavewitnessofunreadinessandthroughhismistyglassesweak
eyeslookeduppleading.Onhischeek,dullandbloodless,asoftstainofinklay,dateshaped,
recentanddampasasnail'sbed.
He held out his copybook. The word Sums was written on the headline. Beneath were
slopingfiguresandatthefootacrookedsignaturewithblindloopsandablot.CyrilSargent:
hisnameandseal.
MrDeasytoldmetowritethemoutallagain,hesaid,andshowthemtoyou,sir.
Stephentouchedtheedgesofthebook.Futility.
Doyouunderstandhowtodothemnow?heasked.
Numberseleventofifteen,Sargentanswered.MrDeasysaidIwastocopythemoffthe
board,sir.
Canyoudothemyourself?Stephenasked.
No,sir.
Uglyandfutile:leanneckandthickhairandastainofink,asnail'sbed.Yetsomeonehad
lovedhim,bornehiminherarmsandinherheart.Butforhertheraceoftheworldwould
havetrampledhimunderfoot,asquashedbonelesssnail.Shehadlovedhisweakwateryblood
drainedfromherown.Wasthatthenreal?Theonlytruethinginlife?Hismother'sprostrate
bodythefieryColumbanusinholyzealbestrode.Shewasnomore:thetremblingskeletonof

a twig burnt in the fire, an odour of rosewood and wetted ashes. She had saved him from
beingtrampledunderfootand had gone, scarcely having been. A poor soul gone to heaven:
andonaheathbeneathwinkingstarsafox,redreekofrapineinhisfur,withmercilessbright
eyesscrapedintheearth,listened,scrapeduptheearth,listened,scrapedandscraped.
SittingathissideStephensolvedouttheproblem.HeprovesbyalgebrathatShakespeare's
ghost is Hamlet's grandfather. Sargent peered askance through his slanted glasses.
Hockeysticksrattledinthelumberroom:thehollowknockofaballandcallsfromthefield.
Across the page the symbols moved in grave morrice, in the mummery of their letters,
wearingquaintcapsofsquaresandcubes.Givehands,traverse,bowtopartner:so:impsof
fancyoftheMoors.Gonetoofromtheworld,AverroesandMosesMaimonides,darkmenin
mien and movement, flashing in their mocking mirrors the obscure soul of the world, a
darknessshininginbrightnesswhichbrightnesscouldnotcomprehend.
Doyouunderstandnow?Canyouworkthesecondforyourself?
Yes,sir.
InlongshakystrokesSargentcopiedthedata.Waitingalwaysforawordofhelphishand
movedfaithfullytheunsteadysymbols,afainthueofshameflickeringbehindhisdullskin.
Amormatris:subjectiveandobjectivegenitive.Withherweakbloodandwheysourmilkshe
hadfedhimandhidfromsightofothershisswaddlingbands.
LikehimwasI,theseslopingshoulders,thisgracelessness.Mychildhoodbendsbesideme.
Too far for me to lay a hand there once or lightly. Mine is far and his secret as our eyes.
Secrets,silent,stonysitinthedarkpalacesofbothourhearts:secretswearyoftheirtyranny:
tyrants,willingtobedethroned.
Thesumwasdone.
Itisverysimple,Stephensaidashestoodup.
Yes,sir.Thanks,Sargentanswered.
Hedriedthepagewithasheetofthinblottingpaperandcarriedhiscopybookbacktohis
bench.
You had better get your stick and go out to the others, Stephen said as he followed
towardsthedoortheboy'sgracelessform.
Yes,sir.
Inthecorridorhisnamewasheard,calledfromtheplayfield.
Sargent!
Runon,Stephensaid.MrDeasyiscallingyou.
Hestoodintheporchandwatchedthelaggardhurrytowardsthescrappyfieldwheresharp
voices were in strife. They were sorted in teams and Mr Deasy came away stepping over
wisps of grass with gaitered feet. When he had reached the schoolhouse voices again
contendingcalledtohim.Heturnedhisangrywhitemoustache.
Whatisitnow?hecriedcontinuallywithoutlistening.
CochraneandHallidayareonthesameside,sir,Stephensaid.
Willyouwaitinmystudyforamoment,MrDeasysaid,tillIrestoreorderhere.
Andashesteppedfussilybackacrossthefieldhisoldman'svoicecriedsternly:
Whatisthematter?Whatisitnow?
Their sharp voices cried about him on all sides: their many forms closed round him, the
garishsunshinebleachingthehoneyofhisilldyedhead.
Stalesmokyairhunginthestudywiththesmellofdrababradedleatherofitschairs.Ason
thefirstdayhebargainedwithmehere.Asitwasinthebeginning,isnow.Onthesideboard
thetrayofStuartcoins,basetreasureofabog:andevershallbe.Andsnugintheirspooncase
ofpurpleplush,faded,thetwelveapostleshavingpreachedtoallthegentiles:worldwithout
end.

Ahastystepoverthestoneporchandinthecorridor.BlowingouthisraremoustacheMr
Deasyhaltedatthetable.
First,ourlittlefinancialsettlement,hesaid.
Hebroughtoutofhiscoatapocketbookboundbyaleatherthong.Itslappedopenandhe
tookfromittwonotes,oneofjoinedhalves,andlaidthemcarefullyonthetable.
Two,hesaid,strappingandstowinghispocketbookaway.
Andnowhisstrongroomforthegold.Stephen'sembarrassedhandmovedovertheshells
heaped in the cold stone mortar: whelks and money cowries and leopard shells: and this,
whorledasanemir'sturban,andthis,thescallopofsaintJames.Anoldpilgrim'shoard,dead
treasure,hollowshells.
Asovereignfell,brightandnew,onthesoftpileofthetablecloth.
Three,MrDeasysaid,turninghislittlesavingsboxaboutinhishand. These are handy
thingstohave.See.Thisisforsovereigns.Thisisforshillings.Sixpences,halfcrowns.And
herecrowns.See.
Heshotfromittwocrownsandtwoshillings.
Threetwelve,hesaid.Ithinkyou'llfindthat'sright.
Thankyou,sir,Stephensaid,gatheringthemoneytogetherwithshyhasteandputtingit
allinapocketofhistrousers.
Nothanksatall,MrDeasysaid.Youhaveearnedit.
Stephen'shand,freeagain,wentbacktothehollowshells.Symbolstooofbeautyandof
power.Alumpinmypocket:symbolssoiledbygreedandmisery.
Don'tcarryitlikethat,MrDeasysaid.You'llpullitoutsomewhereandloseit.Youjust
buyoneofthesemachines.You'llfindthemveryhandy.
Answersomething.
Minewouldbeoftenempty,Stephensaid.
Thesameroomandhour,thesamewisdom:andIthesame.Threetimesnow.Threenooses
roundmehere.Well?IcanbreaktheminthisinstantifIwill.
Because you don't save, Mr Deasy said, pointing his finger. You don't know yet what
moneyis.Moneyispower.WhenyouhavelivedaslongasIhave.Iknow,Iknow.Ifyouth
butknew.ButwhatdoesShakespearesay?Putbutmoneyinthypurse.
Iago,Stephenmurmured.
Heliftedhisgazefromtheidleshellstotheoldman'sstare.
He knew what money was, Mr Deasy said. He made money. A poet, yes, but an
Englishman too. Do you know what is the pride of the English? Do you know what is the
proudestwordyouwilleverhearfromanEnglishman'smouth?
Theseas'ruler.Hisseacoldeyeslookedontheemptybay:itseemshistoryistoblame:on
meandonmywords,unhating.
Thatonhisempire,Stephensaid,thesunneversets.
Ba! Mr Deasy cried. That's not English. A French Celt said that. He tapped his
savingsboxagainsthisthumbnail.
Iwilltellyou,hesaidsolemnly,whatishisproudestboast.Ipaidmyway.
Goodman,goodman.
Ipaidmyway.Ineverborrowedashillinginmylife.Canyoufeelthat?Iowenothing.
Canyou?
Mulligan, nine pounds, three pairs of socks, one pair brogues, ties. Curran, ten guineas.
McCann, one guinea. Fred Ryan, two shillings. Temple, two lunches. Russell, one guinea,
Cousins,tenshillings,BobReynolds,halfaguinea,Koehler,threeguineas,MrsMacKernan,
fiveweeks'board.ThelumpIhaveisuseless.

Forthemoment,no,Stephenanswered.
MrDeasylaughedwithrichdelight,puttingbackhissavingsbox.
Iknewyoucouldn't,hesaidjoyously.Butonedayyoumustfeelit.Weareagenerous
peoplebutwemustalsobejust.
Ifearthosebigwords,Stephensaid,whichmakeussounhappy.
MrDeasystaredsternlyforsomemomentsoverthemantelpieceattheshapely bulk of a
manintartanfilibegs:AlbertEdward,princeofWales.
You think me an old fogey and an old tory, his thoughtful voice said. I saw three
generations since O'Connell's time. I remember the famine in '46. Do you know that the
orangelodgesagitatedforrepealoftheuniontwentyyearsbeforeO'Connelldidorbeforethe
prelatesofyourcommuniondenouncedhimasademagogue?Youfeniansforgetsomethings.
Glorious, pious and immortal memory. The lodge of Diamond in Armagh the splendid
behung with corpses of papishes. Hoarse, masked and armed, the planters' covenant. The
blacknorthandtruebluebible.Croppiesliedown.
Stephensketchedabriefgesture.
Ihaverebelbloodinmetoo,MrDeasysaid.Onthespindleside.But I am descended
fromsirJohnBlackwoodwhovotedfortheunion.WeareallIrish,allkings'sons.
Alas,Stephensaid.
Per vias rectas, Mr Deasy said firmly, was his motto. He voted for it and put on his
topbootstoridetoDublinfromtheArdsofDowntodoso.
Laltheralthera
TherockyroadtoDublin.

A gruff squire on horseback with shiny topboots. Soft day, sir John! Soft day, your
honour!...Day!...Day!...TwotopbootsjogdanglingontoDublin.Laltheralthera.Lalthe
raltheraddy.
That reminds me, Mr Deasy said. You can do me a favour, Mr Dedalus, withsomeof
yourliteraryfriends.Ihavealetterhereforthepress.Sitdownamoment.Ihavejusttocopy
theend.
He went tothe desk near the window, pulledinhis chair twice and read off some words
fromthesheetonthedrumofhistypewriter.
Sit down. Excuse me, he said over his shoulder, the dictates of common sense. Just a
moment.
He peered from under his shaggy brows at the manuscript by his elbow and, muttering,
begantoprodthestiffbuttonsofthekeyboardslowly,sometimesblowingashescrewedup
thedrumtoeraseanerror.
Stephenseatedhimselfnoiselesslybeforetheprincelypresence.Framedaroundthewalls
images of vanished horses stood in homage, their meek heads poised in air: lord Hastings'
Repulse, the duke of Westminster's Shotover, the duke of Beaufort's Ceylon, prix de Paris,
1866.Elfinriderssatthem,watchfulofasign.Hesawtheirspeeds,backingking'scolours,
andshoutedwiththeshoutsofvanishedcrowds.
Fullstop,MrDeasybadehiskeys.Butpromptventilationofthisallimportantquestion...
WhereCranlyledmetogetrichquick,huntinghiswinnersamongthemudsplashedbrakes,
amidthebawlsofbookiesontheirpitchesandreekofthecanteen,overthemotleyslush.Fair
Rebel!FairRebel!Evenmoneythefavourite:tentoonethefield.Dicersandthimbleriggers
we hurried by after the hoofs, the vying caps and jackets and past the meatfaced woman, a
butcher'sdame,nuzzlingthirstilyhercloveoforange.
Shoutsrangshrillfromtheboys'playfieldandawhirringwhistle.
Again:agoal.Iamamongthem,amongtheirbattlingbodiesinamedley,thejoustoflife.
Youmeanthatknockkneedmother'sdarlingwhoseemstobeslightlycrawsick?Jousts.Time

shockedrebounds,shockbyshock.Jousts,slushanduproarofbattles,thefrozendeathspew
oftheslain,ashoutofspearspikesbaitedwithmen'sbloodiedguts.
Nowthen,MrDeasysaid,rising.
Hecametothetable,pinningtogetherhissheets.Stephenstoodup.
I have put the matter into a nutshell, Mr Deasy said. It's about the foot and mouth
disease.Justlookthroughit.Therecanbenotwoopinionsonthematter.
MayItrespassonyourvaluablespace.Thatdoctrineoflaissezfairewhichsoofteninour
history.Ourcattletrade.Thewayofallouroldindustries.Liverpoolringwhichjockeyedthe
Galwayharbourscheme.Europeanconflagration.Grainsuppliesthroughthenarrowwatersof
thechannel. The pluterperfect imperturbability of the department of agriculture.Pardoneda
classicalallusion.Cassandra.Byawomanwhowasnobetterthansheshouldbe.Tocometo
thepointatissue.
Idon'tmincewords,doI?MrDeasyaskedasStephenreadon.
Foot and mouth disease. Known as Koch's preparation. Serum and virus. Percentage of
saltedhorses.Rinderpest.Emperor'shorsesatMurzsteg,lowerAustria.Veterinarysurgeons.
Mr Henry Blackwood Price. Courteous offer a fair trial. Dictates of common sense.
Allimportantquestion.Ineverysenseofthewordtakethebullbythehorns.Thankingyoufor
thehospitalityofyourcolumns.
Iwantthattobeprintedandread,MrDeasysaid.Youwillseeatthenextoutbreakthey
willputanembargoonIrishcattle.Anditcanbecured.Itiscured.Mycousin,Blackwood
Price, writes to me it is regularly treated and cured in Austria by cattledoctors there. They
offertocomeoverhere.Iamtryingtoworkupinfluencewiththedepartment.NowI'mgoing
totrypublicity.Iamsurroundedbydifficulties,by...intriguesby...backstairsinfluenceby...
Heraisedhisforefingerandbeattheairoldlybeforehisvoicespoke.
Mark my words, Mr Dedalus, he said. England is in the hands of the jews. In all the
highest places:her finance, her press.And theyare thesigns of a nation's decay. Wherever
theygathertheyeatupthenation'svitalstrength.Ihaveseenitcomingtheseyears.Assureas
wearestandingherethejewmerchantsarealreadyattheirworkofdestruction.OldEngland
isdying.
He stepped swiftly off, his eyes coming to blue life as they passed a broad sunbeam. He
facedaboutandbackagain.
Dying,hesaidagain,ifnotdeadbynow.
Theharlot'scryfromstreettostreet
ShallweaveoldEngland'swindingsheet.

Hiseyesopenwideinvisionstaredsternlyacrossthesunbeaminwhichhehalted.
Amerchant,Stephensaid,isonewhobuyscheapandsellsdear,jeworgentile,ishenot?
Theysinnedagainstthelight,MrDeasysaidgravely.Andyoucanseethedarknessin
theireyes.Andthatiswhytheyarewanderersontheearthtothisday.
On the steps of the Paris stock exchange the goldskinned men quoting prices on their
gemmedfingers.Gabbleofgeese.Theyswarmedloud,uncouthaboutthetemple,theirheads
thickplottingundermaladroitsilkhats. Not theirs: these clothes, this speech, these gestures.
Their full slow eyes belied the words, the gestures eager and unoffending, but knew the
rancoursmassedaboutthemandknewtheirzealwasvain.Vainpatiencetoheapandhoard.
Time surely would scatter all. A hoard heaped by the roadside: plundered and passing on.
Theireyesknewtheiryearsofwanderingand,patient,knewthedishonoursoftheirflesh.
Whohasnot?Stephensaid.
Whatdoyoumean?MrDeasyasked.
He came forward a pace and stood by the table. His underjaw fell sideways open
uncertainly.Isthisoldwisdom?Hewaitstohearfromme.

History,Stephensaid,isanightmarefromwhichIamtryingtoawake.
Fromtheplayfieldtheboysraisedashout.Awhirringwhistle:goal.Whatifthatnightmare
gaveyouabackkick?
The ways of the Creator are not our ways, Mr Deasy said. All human history moves
towardsonegreatgoal,themanifestationofGod.
Stephenjerkedhisthumbtowardsthewindow,saying:
ThatisGod.
Hooray!Ay!Whrrwhee!
What?MrDeasyasked.
Ashoutinthestreet,Stephenanswered,shrugginghisshoulders.
Mr Deasy looked down and held for awhile the wings of his nose tweaked between his
fingers.Lookingupagainhesetthemfree.
Iamhappierthanyouare,hesaid.Wehavecommittedmanyerrorsand many sins. A
womanbroughtsinintotheworld.Forawomanwhowasnobetterthansheshouldbe,Helen,
therunawaywifeofMenelaus,tenyearstheGreeksmadewaronTroy.Afaithlesswifefirst
broughtthestrangerstoourshorehere,MacMurrough'swifeandherleman,O'Rourke,prince
ofBreffni.AwomantoobroughtParnelllow.Manyerrors,manyfailuresbutnottheonesin.
Iamastrugglernowattheendofmydays.ButIwillfightfortherighttilltheend.
ForUlsterwillfight
AndUlsterwillberight.

Stephenraisedthesheetsinhishand.
Well,sir,hebegan...
Iforesee,MrDeasysaid,thatyouwillnotremainhereverylongatthiswork.Youwere
notborntobeateacher,Ithink.PerhapsIamwrong.
Alearnerrather,Stephensaid.
Andherewhatwillyoulearnmore?
MrDeasyshookhishead.
Whoknows?hesaid.Tolearnonemustbehumble.Butlifeisthegreatteacher.
Stephenrustledthesheetsagain.
Asregardsthese,hebegan.
Yes,MrDeasysaid.Youhavetwocopiesthere.Ifyoucanhavethempublishedatonce.
Telegraph.IrishHomestead.
Iwilltry,Stephensaid,andletyouknowtomorrow.Iknowtwoeditorsslightly.
That will do, Mr Deasy said briskly. I wrote last night to Mr Field, M.P. There is a
meetingofthecattletraders'associationtodayattheCityArmshotel.Iaskedhimtolaymy
letterbeforethemeeting.Youseeifyoucangetitintoyourtwopapers.Whatarethey?
TheEveningTelegraph...
Thatwilldo,MrDeasysaid.Thereisnotimetolose.NowIhavetoanswerthatletter
frommycousin.
Goodmorning,sir,Stephensaid,puttingthesheetsinhispocket.Thankyou.
Notatall,MrDeasysaidashesearchedthepapersonhisdesk.Iliketobreakalance
withyou,oldasIam.
Goodmorning,sir,Stephensaidagain,bowingtohisbentback.
Hewentoutbytheopenporchanddownthegravelpathunderthetrees,hearingthecries
ofvoicesandcrackofsticksfromtheplayfield.Thelionscouchantonthepillarsashepassed
outthroughthegate:toothlessterrors.StillIwillhelphiminhisfight.Mulliganwilldubmea
newname:thebullockbefriendingbard.

MrDedalus!
Runningafterme.Nomoreletters,Ihope.
Justonemoment.
Yes,sir,Stephensaid,turningbackatthegate.
MrDeasyhalted,breathinghardandswallowinghisbreath.
Ijustwantedtosay,hesaid.Ireland,theysay,hasthehonourofbeingtheonlycountry
whichneverpersecutedthejews.Doyouknowthat?No.Anddoyouknowwhy?
Hefrownedsternlyonthebrightair.
Why,sir?Stephenasked,beginningtosmile.
Becausesheneverletthemin,MrDeasysaidsolemnly.
Acoughballoflaughterleapedfromhisthroatdraggingafteritarattlingchainofphlegm.
Heturnedbackquickly,coughing,laughing,hisliftedarmswavingtotheair.
Sheneverletthemin,hecriedagainthroughhislaughterashestampedongaiteredfeet
overthegravelofthepath.That'swhy.
Onhiswiseshouldersthroughthecheckerworkofleavesthesunflungspangles, dancing
coins.
Ineluctable modality of the visible: at least that if no more, thought through my eyes.
SignaturesofallthingsIamheretoread,seaspawnandseawrack,thenearingtide,thatrusty
boot. Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust: coloured signs. Limits of the diaphane. But he adds: in
bodies.Thenhewasawareofthembodiesbeforeofthemcoloured.How?Byknockinghis
sconce against them, sure. Go easy. Bald he was and a millionaire, maestro di color che
sanno. Limit of the diaphane in. Why in? Diaphane, adiaphane. If you can put your five
fingersthroughititisagate,ifnotadoor.Shutyoureyesandsee.
Stephenclosedhiseyestohearhisbootscrushcracklingwrackandshells.Youarewalking
throughithowsomever.Iam,astrideatatime.Averyshortspaceoftimethroughveryshort
timesofspace.Five,six:thenacheinander.Exactly:andthatistheineluctablemodalityofthe
audible.Openyoureyes.No.Jesus!IfIfelloveracliffthatbeetleso'erhisbase,fellthrough
thenebeneinanderineluctably!Iamgettingonnicelyinthedark.Myashswordhangsatmy
side.Tapwithit:theydo.Mytwofeetinhisbootsareattheendsofhislegs,nebeneinander.
Sounds solid: made by the mallet of Los Demiurgos. Am I walking into eternity along
Sandymountstrand?Crush,crack,crick,crick.Wildseamoney.DominieDeasykensthema'.
Won'tyoucometoSandymount,Madelinethemare?
Rhythm begins, you see. I hear. Acatalectic tetrameter of iambs marching. No, agallop:
delinethemare.
Openyoureyesnow.Iwill.Onemoment.Hasallvanishedsince?IfIopenandamforever
intheblackadiaphane.Basta!IwillseeifIcansee.
Seenow.Thereallthetimewithoutyou:andevershallbe,worldwithoutend.
They came down the steps from Leahy's terrace prudently, Frauenzimmer: and down the
shelving shore flabbily, their splayed feet sinking in the silted sand. Like me, like Algy,
coming down to our mighty mother. Number one swung lourdily her midwife's bag, the
other'sgamppokedinthebeach.Fromtheliberties,outfortheday.MrsFlorenceMacCabe,
relict of the late Patk MacCabe, deeply lamented, of Bride Street. One of her sisterhood
lugged me squealing into life. Creation from nothing. What has she in the bag? A misbirth
withatrailingnavelcord,hushedinruddywool.Thecordsofalllinkback,strandentwining
cableofallflesh.Thatiswhymysticmonks.Willyoubeasgods?Gazeinyouromphalos.
Hello!Kinchhere.PutmeontoEdenville.Aleph,alpha:nought,nought,one.
SpouseandhelpmateofAdamKadmon:Heva,nakedEve.Shehadnonavel.Gaze.Belly
without blemish, bulging big, a buckler of taut vellum, no, whiteheaped corn, orient and
immortal,standingfromeverlastingtoeverlasting.Wombofsin.
Wombed in sin darkness I was too,made not begotten.By them, themanwith myvoice

andmyeyesandaghostwomanwithashesonherbreath.Theyclaspedandsundered,didthe
coupler'swill.FrombeforetheagesHewilledmeandnowmaynotwillmeawayorever.A
lex eterna stays about Him. Is that then the divine substance wherein Father and Son are
consubstantial?WhereispoordearAriustotryconclusions?Warringhislifelonguponthe
contransmagnificandjewbangtantiality. Illstarred heresiarch' In a Greek watercloset he
breathed his last: euthanasia. With beaded mitre and with crozier, stalled upon his throne,
widowerofawidowedsee,withupstiffedomophorion,withclottedhinderparts.
Airsrompedroundhim,nippingandeagerairs.Theyarecoming,waves.Thewhitemaned
seahorses,champing,brightwindbridled,thesteedsofMananaan.
I mustn't forget his letter for the press. And after? The Ship, half twelve. By the way go
easywiththatmoneylikeagoodyoungimbecile.
Yes,Imust.
His pace slackened. Here. Am I going to aunt Sara's or not? My consubstantial father's
voice.DidyouseeanythingofyourartistbrotherStephenlately?No?Surehe'snotdownin
StrasburgterracewithhisauntSally?Couldn'theflyabithigherthanthat,eh?Andandand
andtellus,Stephen,howisuncleSi?O,weepingGod,thethingsImarriedinto!Deboysup
in de hayloft. The drunken little costdrawer and his brother, the cornet player. Highly
respectablegondoliers!AndskeweyedWaltersirringhisfather,noless!Sir.Yes,sir.No,sir.
Jesuswept:andnowonder,byChrist!
Ipullthewheezybelloftheirshutteredcottage:andwait.Theytakemeforadun,peerout
fromacoignofvantage.
It'sStephen,sir.
Lethimin.LetStephenin.
AboltdrawnbackandWalterwelcomesme.
Wethoughtyouweresomeoneelse.
In his broad bed nuncle Richie, pillowed and blanketed, extends over the hillock of his
kneesasturdyforearm.Cleanchested.Hehaswashedtheuppermoiety.
Morrow,nephew.
HelaysasidethelapboardwhereonhedraftshisbillsofcostsfortheeyesofmasterGoff
andmasterShaplandTandy,filingconsentsandcommonsearchesandawritofDucesTecum.
Abogoakframeoverhisbaldhead:Wilde'sRequiescat.Thedroneofhismisleadingwhistle
bringsWalterback.
Yes,sir?
MaltforRichieandStephen,tellmother.Whereisshe?
BathingCrissie,sir.
Papa'slittlebedpal.Lumpoflove.
No,uncleRichie...
CallmeRichie.Damnyourlithiawater.Itlowers.Whusky!
UncleRichie,really...
SitdownorbythelawHarryI'llknockyoudown.
Waltersquintsvainlyforachair.
Hehasnothingtositdownon,sir.
Hehasnowheretoputit,youmug.Bringinourchippendalechair.Wouldyoulikeabite
ofsomething?Noneofyourdamnedlawdeedawairshere. The rich of a rasher fried with a
herring?Sure?Somuchthebetter.Wehavenothinginthehousebutbackachepills.
All'erta!
HedronesbarsofFerrando'sariadisortita.Thegrandestnumber,Stephen, in the whole
opera.Listen.

His tuneful whistle sounds again, finely shaded, with rushes of the air, his fists
bigdrummingonhispaddedknees.
Thiswindissweeter.
Houses of decay, mine, his and all. You told the Clongowes gentry you had an uncle a
judgeandanuncleageneralinthearmy.Comeoutofthem,Stephen.Beautyisnotthere.Nor
in the stagnant bay of Marsh's library where you read the fading prophecies of Joachim
Abbas.Forwhom?Thehundredheadedrabbleofthecathedralclose.Ahaterofhiskindran
from them to the wood of madness, his mane foaming in the moon, his eyeballs stars.
Houyhnhnm,horsenostrilled.Theovalequinefaces,Temple,BuckMulligan,FoxyCampbell,
Lanternjaws. Abbas father,furious dean, what offence laid fire to their brains? Paff!
Descende,calve,utneampliusdecalveris.Agarlandofgreyhaironhiscomminatedheadsee
himmeclamberingdowntothefootpace(descende!),clutchingamonstrance, basiliskeyed.
Getdown,baldpoll!Achoirgivesbackmenaceandecho,assistingaboutthealtar'shorns,the
snortedLatinofjackpriestsmovingburlyintheiralbs,tonsuredandoiledandgelded,fatwith
thefatofkidneysofwheat.
Andatthesameinstantperhapsapriestroundthecorneriselevatingit.Dringdring! And
twostreetsoffanotherlockingitintoapyx.Dringadring!Andinaladychapelanothertaking
housel all to his own cheek. Dringdring! Down, up, forward, back. Dan Occam thought of
that, invincible doctor. A misty English morning the imp hypostasis tickled his brain.
Bringinghishostdownandkneelingheheardtwinewithhissecondbellthefirstbellinthe
transept(heisliftinghis)and,rising,heard(nowIamlifting)theirtwobells(heiskneeling)
twangindiphthong.
Cousin Stephen, you will never be a saint. Isle of saints. You were awfullyholy,weren't
you?YouprayedtotheBlessedVirginthatyoumightnothavearednose.Youprayedtothe
devilinSerpentineavenuethatthefubsywidowinfrontmightliftherclothesstillmorefrom
thewetstreet.Osi,certo!Sellyoursoulforthat,do,dyedragspinnedroundasquaw.More
tell me, more still!! On the top of the Howth tram alone crying to the rain: Naked women!
nakedwomen!Whataboutthat,eh?
Whataboutwhat?Whatelseweretheyinventedfor?
Reading two pages apiece of seven books every night, eh? I was young. You bowed to
yourself in the mirror, stepping forward to applause earnestly, striking face. Hurray for the
Goddamnedidiot!Hray!Noonesaw:tellnoone.Booksyouweregoingtowritewithletters
fortitles.Haveyouread his F? O yes, but I prefer Q. Yes, but W is wonderful. O yes, W.
Rememberyourepiphanieswrittenongreenovalleaves,deeplydeep,copiestobesentifyou
diedtoallthegreatlibrariesoftheworld,includingAlexandria?Someonewastoreadthem
thereafterafewthousandyears,amahamanvantara.PicodellaMirandolalike.Ay,verylikea
whale.Whenonereadsthesestrangepagesofonelonggoneonefeelsthatoneisatonewith
onewhoonce...
Thegrainysandhadgonefromunderhisfeet.Hisbootstrodagainadampcracklingmast,
razorshells, squeaking pebbles, that on the unnumbered pebbles beats, wood sieved by the
shipworm,lostArmada.Unwholesomesandflatswaitedtosuckhistreadingsoles,breathing
upwardsewagebreath,apocketofseaweedsmoulderedinseafireunderamiddenofman's
ashes.Hecoastedthem,walkingwarily.Aporterbottlestoodup,stoggedtoitswaist,inthe
cakeysanddough.Asentinel:isleofdreadfulthirst.Brokenhoopsontheshoreatthelanda
mazeofdarkcunningnetsfartherawaychalkscrawledbackdoorsandonthehigherbeacha
dryingline with two crucified shirts. Ringsend: wigwams of brown steersmen and master
mariners.Humanshells.
Hehalted.IhavepassedthewaytoauntSara's.AmInotgoingthere?Seemsnot.Noone
about.HeturnednortheastandcrossedthefirmersandtowardsthePigeonhouse.
Quivousamisdanscettefichueposition?
c'estlepigeon,Joseph.
Patrice, home on furlough, lapped warm milk with me in the bar MacMahon. Son of the

wildgoose,KevinEganofParis.Myfather'sabird,helappedthesweetlaitchaudwithpink
young tongue, plump bunny's face. Lap,lapin. He hopes to win in the gros lots. About the
natureofwomenhereadinMichelet.ButhemustsendmeLaViedeJesusbyM.LeoTaxil.
Lentittohisfriend.
C'esttordant,voussavez.Moi,jesuissocialiste.Jenecroispasenl'existencedeDieu.
Fautpasledireamonpre.
Ilcroit?
Monpere,oui.
Schluss.Helaps.
My Latin quarter hat. God, we simply must dress the character. I want puce gloves.You
were a student, weren't you? Of what in the other devil's name? Paysayenn. P. C. N., you
know: physiques, chimiques et naturelles. Aha. Eating your groatsworth of mou en civet,
fleshpots of Egypt, elbowed by belching cabmen. Just say in the most natural tone: when I
wasinParisboul'Mich',Iusedto.Yes,usedtocarrypunchedticketstoproveanalibiifthey
arrestedyouformurdersomewhere.Justice.OnthenightoftheseventeenthofFebruary1904
theprisonerwasseenbytwowitnesses.Otherfellowdidit:otherme.Hat,tie,overcoat,nose.
Lui,c'estmoi.Youseemtohaveenjoyedyourself.
Proudly walking. Whom were you trying to walk like? Forget: a dispossessed. With
mother's money order, eight shillings, the banging door of the post office slammed in your
face by the usher. Hunger toothache. Encore deux minutes. Look clock. Must get. Ferme.
Hireddog!Shoothimtobloodybitswithabangshotgun,bitsmanspatteredwallsallbrass
buttons.Bitsallkhrrrrklakinplaceclackback.Nothurt?O,that'sallright.Shakehands.See
whatImeant,see?O,that'sallright.Shakeashake.O,that'sallonlyallright.
Youweregoingtodowonders,what?MissionarytoEuropeafterfieryColumbanus.Fiacre
andScotusontheircreepystoolsinheavenspiltfromtheirpintpots,loudlatinlaughing:Euge!
Euge! Pretending to speak broken English as you dragged your valise, porter threepence,
acrosstheslimy pier at Newhaven. Comment? Rich booty you brought back Le Tutu, five
tattered numbers of Pantalon Blanc et Culotte Rouge a blue French telegram, curiosity to
show:
Motherdyingcomehomefather.
Theauntthinksyoukilledyourmother.That'swhyshewon't.
Thenhere'sahealthtoMulligan'saunt
AndI'lltellyouthereasonwhy.
Shealwayskeptthingsdecentin
TheHanniganfamileye.

Hisfeetmarchedinsuddenproudrhythmoverthesandfurrows,alongbythebouldersof
thesouthwall.Hestaredatthemproudly,piledstonemammothskulls.Goldlightonsea,on
sand,onboulders.Thesunisthere,theslendertrees,thelemonhouses.
Paris rawly waking, crude sunlight on her lemon streets. Moist pith of farls of bread, the
froggreen wormwood, her matin incense, court the air. Belluomo rises from the bed of his
wife's lover's wife, the kerchiefed housewife is astir, a saucer of acetic acid in her hand. In
Rodot'sYvonneand Madeleine newmake their tumbled beauties, shattering with gold teeth
chaussonsofpastry,theirmouthsyellowedwiththepusofflanbreton.FacesofParismengo
by,theirwellpleasedpleasers,curledconquistadores.
Noon slumbers. Kevin Egan rolls gunpowder cigarettes through fingers smeared with
printer'sink,sippinghisgreenfairyasPatricehiswhite.Aboutusgobblersforkspicedbeans
down their gullets. Un demi setier! A jet of coffee steam from the burnished caldron. She
serves me at his beck. Il est irlandais. Hollandais? Non fromage. Deux irlandais, nous,
Irlande,voussavezah,oui!Shethoughtyouwantedacheesehollandais.Yourpostprandial,
do you know that word? Postprandial.There was afellow I knew once in Barcelona, queer
fellow,usedtocallithispostprandial.Well:slainte!Aroundtheslabbedtablesthetangleof

winedbreathsandgrumblinggorges.Hisbreathhangsoveroursaucestainedplates,thegreen
fairy'sfangthrustingbetweenhislips.OfIreland,theDalcassians,ofhopes,conspiracies,of
ArthurGriffithnow,AE,pimander,goodshepherdofmen.Toyokemeashisyokefellow,
ourcrimesourcommoncause.You'reyourfather'sson.Iknowthevoice.Hisfustianshirt,
sanguineflowered,tremblesitsSpanishtasselsathissecrets.M.Drumont,famousjournalist,
Drumont,knowwhathecalledqueenVictoria?Oldhagwiththeyellowteeth.Vieilleogresse
withthedentsjaunes.MaudGonne,beautifulwoman,LaPatrie,M.Millevoye,FelixFaure,
know how he died? Licentious men. The froeken, bonne a tout faire, who rubs male
nakednessinthebathatUpsala.Moifaire,shesaid,Touslesmessieurs.NotthisMonsieur,I
said.Mostlicentiouscustom.Bathamostprivatething.Iwouldn'tletmybrother,noteven
myownbrother,mostlasciviousthing.Greeneyes,Iseeyou.Fang,Ifeel.Lasciviouspeople.
Thebluefuseburnsdeadlybetweenhandsandburnsclear.Loosetobaccoshredscatchfire:
a flame and acrid smoke light our corner. Raw facebones under his peep of day boy's hat.
How the head centre got away, authentic version. Got up as a young bride, man, veil,
orangeblossoms,droveouttheroadtoMalahide.Did,faith.Oflostleaders,thebetrayed,wild
escapes.Disguises,clutchedat,gone,nothere.
Spurnedlover.Iwasastrappingyounggossoonatthattime,Itellyou.I'll show you my
likeness one day. I was, faith. Lover, for her love he prowled with colonel Richard Burke,
tanistofhissept,underthewallsofClerkenwelland,crouching,sawaflameofvengeance
hurl them upward in the fog. Shattered glass and toppling masonry. In gay Paree he hides,
EganofParis,unsoughtbyanysavebyme.Makinghisday'sstations,thedingyprintingcase,
his three taverns, the Montmartre lair he sleeps short night in, rue de la Goutted'Or,
damascenedwithflyblownfacesofthegone.Loveless,landless,wifeless.Sheisquitenicey
comfywithoutheroutcastman, madame in rue GitleCoeur, canary and two buck lodgers.
Peachycheeks,azebraskirt,friskyasayoungthing's.Spurnedandundespairing.TellPatyou
saw me, won't you? I wanted to get poor Pat a job one time. Mon fils, soldier of France. I
taughthimtosingTheboysofKilkennyarestoutroaringblades.Knowthatoldlay?Itaught
Patricethat.OldKilkenny:saintCanice,Strongbow'scastleontheNore.Goeslikethis.O,O.
Hetakesme,NapperTandy,bythehand.
O,OTHEBOYSOF
KILKENNY...

Weakwastinghandonmine.TheyhaveforgottenKevinEgan,nothethem.Remembering
thee,OSion.
Hehadcomenearertheedgeoftheseaandwetsandslappedhisboots.Thenewairgreeted
him,harpinginwildnerves,windofwildairofseedsofbrightness.Here,Iamnotwalking
outtotheKishlightship,amI?Hestood suddenly, his feet beginning to sink slowly in the
quakingsoil.Turnback.
Turning,hescannedtheshoresouth,hisfeetsinkingagainslowlyinnewsockets.Thecold
domedroomofthetowerwaits.Throughthebarbacanstheshaftsof light are moving ever,
slowlyeverasmyfeetaresinking,creepingduskwardoverthedialfloor.Bluedusk,nightfall,
deepbluenight.Inthedarknessofthedometheywait,theirpushedbackchairs,myobelisk
valise,aroundaboardofabandonedplatters.Whotoclearit?Hehasthekey.Iwillnotsleep
therewhenthisnightcomes.Ashutdoorofasilenttower,entombingtheirblindbodies,the
panthersahibandhispointer.Call:noanswer.Heliftedhisfeetupfromthesuckandturned
backbythemoleofboulders.Takeall,keepall.Mysoulwalkswithme,formofforms.Soin
themoon'smidwatchesIpacethepathabovetherocks,insablesilvered,hearingElsinore's
temptingflood.
Thefloodisfollowingme.Icanwatchitflowpastfromhere.GetbackthenbythePoolbeg
roadtothestrandthere.Heclimbedoverthesedgeandeelyoarweedsandsatonastoolof
rock,restinghisashplantinagrike.
Abloatedcarcassofadoglaylolledonbladderwrack.Beforehimthegunwaleofaboat,
sunkinsand.UncocheensablLouisVeuillotcalledGautier'sprose.Theseheavysandsare

languagetideandwindhavesiltedhere.Andthese,thestoneheapsofdeadbuilders,awarren
ofweaselrats.Hidegoldthere.Tryit.Youhavesome.Sandsandstones.Heavyofthepast.
SirLout'stoys.Mindyoudon'tgetonebangontheear.I'mthebloodywellgigantrollsall
thembloodywellboulders,bonesformysteppingstones.Feefawfum.Izmellzdebloodzodz
anIridzman.
Apoint,livedog,grewintosightrunningacrossthesweepofsand.Lord,is he going to
attackme?Respecthisliberty.Youwillnotbemasterofothersortheirslave.Ihavemystick.
Sittight.Fromfartheraway,walkingshorewardacrossfromthecrestedtide,figures,two.The
twomaries.Theyhavetuckeditsafemongthebulrushes.Peekaboo.Iseeyou.No,thedog.
Heisrunningbacktothem.Who?
Galleys of the Lochlanns ran here to beach, in quest of prey, their bloodbeaked prows
ridinglowonamoltenpewtersurf.Danevikings,torcsoftomahawksaglitterontheirbreasts
when Malachi wore the collar of gold. A school of turlehide whales stranded in hot noon,
spouting,hobblingintheshallows.Thenfromthestarvingcageworkcityahordeofjerkined
dwarfs, my people, with flayers' knives, running, scaling, hacking in green blubbery
whalemeat. Famine, plague and slaughters. Their blood is in me, their lusts my waves. I
moved among them on the frozen Liffey, that I, a changeling, among the spluttering resin
fires.Ispoketonoone:nonetome.
Thedog'sbarkrantowardshim,stopped,ranback.Dogofmyenemy.Ijustsimplystood
pale,silent,bayedabout.Terribiliameditans.Aprimrosedoublet,fortune'sknave,smiledon
myfear.Forthatareyoupining,thebarkoftheirapplause?Pretenders:livetheirlives.The
Bruce's brother, Thomas Fitzgerald, silken knight, Perkin Warbeck, York's false scion, in
breechesofsilkofwhiteroseivory,wonderofaday,andLambertSimnel,withatailofnans
and sutlers, a scullion crowned. All kings' sons. Paradise of pretenders then and now. He
saved men from drowning and you shake at a cur's yelping. But the courtiers who mocked
Guido in Or san Michele were in their own house. House of... We don't want any of your
medieval abstrusiosities. Would you do what he did? A boat would be near, a lifebuoy.
Natrlich,putthereforyou.Wouldyouorwouldyounot?Themanthatwasdrownednine
daysagooffMaiden'srock.Theyarewaitingforhimnow.Thetruth,spititout.Iwouldwant
to.Iwouldtry.Iamnotastrongswimmer.Watercoldsoft.WhenIputmyfaceintoitinthe
basinatClongowes.Can'tsee!Who'sbehindme?Outquickly,quickly!Doyouseethetide
flowingquicklyinonallsides,sheetingthelowsofsandquickly,shellcocoacoloured?IfIhad
land under my feet. I want his life still to be his, mine to be mine. A drowning man. His
humaneyesscreamtomeoutofhorrorofhisdeath.I...Withhimtogetherdown...Icouldnot
saveher.Waters:bitterdeath:lost.
Awomanandaman.Iseeherskirties.Pinnedup,Ibet.
Theirdogambledaboutabankofdwindlingsand,trotting,sniffingonallsides.Looking
forsomethinglostinapastlife.Suddenlyhemadeofflikeaboundinghare,earsflungback,
chasingtheshadowofalowskimminggull.Theman'sshriekedwhistlestruckhislimpears.
Heturned,boundedback,camenearer,trottedontwinklingshanks.Onafieldtenneyabuck,
trippant, proper, unattired. At the lacefringe of the tide he halted with stiff forehoofs,
seawardpointed ears. His snout lifted barked at the wavenoise, herds of seamorse. They
serpented towards his feet, curling, unfurling many crests, every ninth, breaking, plashing,
fromfar,fromfartherout,wavesandwaves.
Cocklepickers.Theywadedalittlewayinthewaterand,stooping,sousedtheirbagsand,
liftingthemagain,wadedout.Thedogyelpedrunningtothem,rearedup and pawedthem,
droppingonallfours,againrearedupatthemwithmutebearishfawning.Unheededhekept
bythemastheycametowardsthedriersand,aragofwolf'stongueredpantingfromhisjaws.
Hisspeckledbodyambledaheadofthemandthenlopedoffatacalf'sgallop.Thecarcasslay
on his path. He stopped, sniffed, stalked round it, brother, nosing closer, went round it,
snifflingrapidlylikeadogalloverthedeaddog'sbedraggledfell.Dogskull,dogsniff,eyeson
theground,movestoonegreatgoal.Ah,poordogsbody!Hereliespoordogsbody'sbody.

Tatters!Outofthat,youmongrel!
The cry brought him skulking back to his master and a blunt bootless kick sent him
unscathedacrossaspitofsand,crouchedinflight.Heslunkbackinacurve.Doesn'tseeme.
Alongbytheedgeofthemolehelolloped,dawdled,smeltarockandfromunderacocked
hindlegpissedagainstit.Hetrottedforwardand,liftingagainhishindleg,pissedquickshort
atanunsmeltrock.Thesimplepleasuresofthepoor.Hishindpawsthenscatteredthesand:
thenhisforepawsdabbledanddelved.Somethingheburiedthere,hisgrandmother.Herooted
inthesand,dabbling,delvingandstoppedtolistentotheair,scrapedupthesandagainwitha
furyofhisclaws,soonceasing,apard,apanther,gotinspousebreach,vulturingthedead.
Afterhewokemelastnightsamedreamorwasit?Wait.Openhallway.Streetofharlots.
Remember.HarounalRaschid.Iamalmostingit.Thatmanledme,spoke.Iwasnotafraid.
Themelonhehadheheldagainstmyface.Smiled:creamfruitsmell.Thatwastherule,said.
In.Come.Redcarpetspread.Youwillseewho.
Shouldering their bags they trudged, the red Egyptians. His blued feet out of turnedup
trousers slapped the clammy sand, a dull brick muffler strangling his unshaven neck. With
womanstepsshefollowed:theruffianandhisstrollingmort.Spoilsslungatherback.Loose
sandandshellgritcrustedherbarefeet.Aboutherwindrawfacehairtrailed.Behindherlord,
hishelpmate,bingawasttoRomeville.Whennighthidesherbody'sflawscallingunderher
brownshawlfromanarchwaywheredogshavemired.Her fancyman istreating two Royal
DublinsinO'Loughlin'sofBlackpitts.Bussher,wapinrogues'rumlingo,for,O,mydimber
wapping dell! A shefiend's whiteness under her rancid rags. Fumbally's lane that night: the
tanyardsmells.
Whitethyfambles,redthygan
Andthyquarronsdaintyis.
Couchahogsheadwithmethen.
Inthedarkmansclipandkiss.

MorosedelectationAquinastunbellycallsthis,frateporcospino.UnfallenAdamrodeand
not rutted. Call away let him: thy quarrons dainty is. Language no whit worse than his.
Monkwords, marybeads jabber on their girdles: roguewords, tough nuggets patter in their
pockets.
Passingnow.
AsideeyeatmyHamlethat.IfIweresuddenlynakedhereasIsit?Iamnot.Acrossthe
sandsofalltheworld,followedbythesun'sflamingsword,tothewest,trekkingtoevening
lands.Shetrudges,schlepps,trains,drags,trascinesherload.Atidewestering,moondrawn,in
herwake.Tides,myriadislanded,withinher,bloodnotmine,oinopaponton,awinedarksea.
Beholdthehandmaidofthemoon.Insleepthewetsigncallsherhour,bidsherrise.Bridebed,
childbed, bed of death, ghostcandled. Omnis caro ad te veniet. He comes, pale vampire,
throughstormhiseyes,hisbatsailsbloodyingthesea,mouthtohermouth'skiss.
Here.Putapininthatchap,willyou?Mytablets.Mouthtoherkiss.
No.Mustbetwoofem.Glueemwell.Mouthtohermouth'skiss.
Hislipslippedandmouthedfleshlesslipsofair:mouthtohermoomb.Oomb,allwombing
tomb. His mouth moulded issuing breath, unspeeched: ooeeehah: roar of cataractic planets,
globed, blazing, roaring wayawayawayawayaway. Paper. The banknotes, blast them. Old
Deasy'sletter.Here.Thankingyouforthehospitalityteartheblankendoff.Turninghisback
tothesunhebentoverfartoatableofrockandscribbledwords.That'stwiceIforgottotake
slipsfromthelibrarycounter.
His shadow lay over the rocks as he bent, ending. Why not endless till the farthest star?
Darklytheyaretherebehindthislight,darknessshininginthebrightness,deltaofCassiopeia,
worlds.Mesitstherewithhisaugur'srodofash,inborrowedsandals,bydaybesidealivid
sea, unbeheld, in violet night walking beneath a reign of uncouth stars. I throw this ended
shadowfromme,manshapeineluctable,callitback.Endless,woulditbemine,formofmy
form?Whowatchesmehere?Whoeveranywherewillreadthesewrittenwords?Signsona

whitefield.Somewheretosomeoneinyourflutiestvoice.ThegoodbishopofCloynetookthe
veilofthetempleoutofhisshovelhat:veilofspacewithcolouredemblemshatchedonits
field.Holdhard.Colouredonaflat:yes,that'sright.FlatIsee,thenthinkdistance,near,far,
flatIsee,east,back.Ah,seenow!Fallsbacksuddenly,frozeninstereoscope.Clickdoesthe
trick.Youfindmywordsdark.Darknessisinoursoulsdoyounotthink?Flutier.Oursouls,
shamewoundedbyoursins,clingtousyetmore,awomantoherloverclinging,themorethe
more.
Shetrustsme,herhandgentle,thelonglashedeyes.NowwherethebluehellamIbringing
herbeyondtheveil?Intotheineluctablemodalityoftheineluctablevisuality.She,she,she.
Whatshe?ThevirginatHodgesFiggis'windowonMondaylookinginforoneofthealphabet
booksyouweregoingtowrite.Keenglanceyougaveher.Wristthroughthebraidedjesseof
hersunshade.ShelivesinLeesonparkwithagriefandkickshaws,aladyofletters.Talkthat
tosomeoneelse,Stevie:apickmeup.BetshewearsthosecurseofGodstayssuspendersand
yellowstockings,darnedwithlumpywool.Talkaboutappledumplings,piuttosto.Whereare
yourwits?
Touchme.Softeyes.Softsoftsofthand.Iamlonelyhere.O,touchmesoon,now.Whatis
thatwordknowntoallmen?Iamquietherealone.Sadtoo.Touch,touchme.
Helaybackatfullstretchoverthesharprocks,crammingthescribblednoteandpencilinto
apockhishat.Hishatdownonhiseyes.ThatisKevinEgan'smovementImade,noddingfor
his nap, sabbath sleep. Et vidit Deus. Et erant valde bona. Alo! Bonjour. Welcome as the
flowersinMay.Underitsleafhewatchedthroughpeacocktwitteringlashesthesouthingsun.
I am caught in this burning scene. Pan's hour, the faunal noon. Among gumheavy
serpentplants,milkoozingfruits,whereonthetawnywatersleavesliewide.Painisfar.
Andnomoreturnasideandbrood.

Hisgazebroodedonhisbroadtoedboots,abuck'scastoffs,nebeneinander.Hecountedthe
creases of rucked leather wherein another's foot had nested warm. The foot that beat the
groundintripudium,footIdislove.ButyouweredelightedwhenEstherOsvalt'sshoewent
onyou:girlIknewinParis.Tiens,quelpetitpied!Staunchfriend,abrothersoul:Wilde'slove
thatdarenotspeakitsname.Hisarm:Cranly'sarm.Henowwillleaveme.Andtheblame?
AsIam.AsIam.Allornotatall.
InlonglassoesfromtheCocklakethewaterflowedfull,coveringgreengoldenlylagoons
of sand, rising, flowing. My ashplant will float away. I shall wait. No, they will pass on,
passing, chafing against the low rocks, swirling, passing. Better get this job over quick.
Listen: a fourworded wavespeech: seesoo, hrss, rsseeiss, ooos. Vehement breath of waters
amidseasnakes,rearinghorses,rocks.Incupsofrocksitslops:flop,slop,slap:boundedin
barrels. And, spent, its speech ceases. It flows purling, widely flowing, floating foampool,
flowerunfurling.
Undertheupswellingtidehesawthewrithingweedsliftlanguidlyandswayreluctantarms,
hisinguptheirpetticoats,inwhisperingwaterswayingandupturningcoysilverfronds.Day
by day: night bynight: lifted,floodedandletfall.Lord,theyarewearyand,whisperedto,
theysigh.SaintAmbroseheardit,sighofleavesandwaves,waiting,awaitingthefullnessof
theirtimes,diebus ac noctibus iniurias patiens ingemiscit. To no end gathered vainly then
released, forthflowing, wending back: loom of the moon. Weary too in sight of lovers,
lasciviousmen,anakedwomanshininginhercourts,shedrawsatoilofwaters.
Fivefathomsoutthere.Fullfathomfivethyfatherlies.Atone,hesaid.Found drowned.
HighwateratDublinbar.Drivingbeforeitaloosedriftofrubble,fanshoalsoffishes,silly
shells. A corpse rising saltwhite from the undertow, bobbing a pace a pace a porpoise
landward.Thereheis.Hookitquick.Pull.Sunkthoughhebebeneaththewateryfloor.We
havehim.Easynow.
Bagofcorpsegassoppinginfoulbrine.Aquiverofminnows,fatofaspongytitbit,flash
throughtheslitsofhisbuttonedtrouserfly.Godbecomesmanbecomesfishbecomesbarnacle

goosebecomesfeatherbedmountain.DeadbreathsIlivingbreathe,treaddeaddust,devoura
urinousoffalfromalldead.Hauledstarkoverthegunwalehebreathesupwardthestenchof
hisgreengrave,hisleprousnoseholesnoringtothesun.
Aseachangethis,browneyessaltblue.Seadeath,mildestofalldeathsknowntoman.Old
FatherOcean.Prix de paris: beware of imitations. Just you give it a fair trial. We enjoyed
ourselvesimmensely.
Come. I thirst. Clouding over. No black clouds anywhere, are there? Thunderstorm.
Allbrighthefalls,proudlightningoftheintellect,Lucifer,dico,quinescitoccasum.No.My
cockle hat and staff and hismy sandal shoon. Where? To evening lands. Evening will find
itself.
Hetookthehiltofhisashplant,lungingwithitsoftly,dallyingstill.Yes,eveningwillfind
itselfinme,withoutme.Alldaysmaketheirend.BythewaynextwhenisitTuesdaywillbe
thelongestday.Ofallthegladnewyear,mother,therumtumtiddledytum.LawnTennyson,
gentleman poet. Gi. For the old hag with the yellow teeth. And Monsieur Drumont,
gentlemanjournalist.Gi.Myteethareverybad.Why,Iwonder.Feel.Thatoneisgoingtoo.
Shells.OughtIgotoadentist,Iwonder,withthatmoney?Thatone.This.ToothlessKinch,
thesuperman.Whyisthat,Iwonder,ordoesitmeansomethingperhaps?
Myhandkerchief.Hethrewit.Iremember.DidInottakeitup?
Hishandgropedvainlyinhispockets.No,Ididn't.Betterbuyone.
Helaidthedrysnotpickedfromhisnostrilonaledgeofrock,carefully.Fortherestlet
lookwhowill.
Behind.Perhapsthereissomeone.
Heturnedhisfaceoverashoulder,rereregardant.Movingthroughtheairhighsparsofa
threemaster,hersailsbraileduponthecrosstrees,homing,upstream,silentlymoving,asilent
ship.+

II
Mr Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. He liked thick
giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart, liverslices fried with crustcrumbs, fried
hencods'roes.Mostofallhelikedgrilledmuttonkidneyswhichgavetohispalateafinetang
offaintlyscentedurine.
Kidneys were in his mind as he moved about the kitchen softly, righting her breakfast
things on the humpy tray. Gelid light and air were in the kitchen but out of doors gentle
summermorningeverywhere.Madehimfeelabitpeckish.
Thecoalswerereddening.
Anothersliceofbreadandbutter:three,four:right.Shedidn'tlikeherplatefull.Right.He
turnedfromthetray,liftedthekettleoffthehobandsetitsidewaysonthefire.Itsatthere,
dullandsquat,itsspoutstuckout.Cupofteasoon.Good.Mouthdry.Thecatwalkedstiffly
roundalegofthetablewithtailonhigh.
Mkgnao!
O,thereyouare,MrBloomsaid,turningfromthefire.
Thecatmewedinanswerandstalkedagainstifflyroundalegofthetable,mewing.Just
howshestalksovermywritingtable.Prr.Scratchmyhead.Prr.
Mr Bloom watched curiously, kindly the lithe black form. Clean to see: the gloss of her
sleekhide,thewhitebuttonunderthebuttofhertail,thegreenflashingeyes.Hebentdownto

her,hishandsonhisknees.
Milkforthepussens,hesaid.
Mrkgnao!thecatcried.
Theycallthemstupid.Theyunderstandwhatwesaybetterthanweunderstandthem.She
understands all she wants to. Vindictive too. Cruel. Her nature. Curious mice never squeal.
Seemtolikeit.WonderwhatIlookliketoher.Heightofatower?No,shecanjumpme.
Afraidofthechickenssheis,hesaidmockingly.Afraidofthechookchooks.Ineversaw
suchastupidpussensasthepussens.
Cruel.Hernature.Curiousmiceneversqueal.Seemtolikeit.
Mrkrgnao!thecatsaidloudly.
Sheblinkedupoutofheravidshameclosingeyes,mewingplaintivelyandlong,showing
himhermilkwhiteteeth.Hewatchedthedarkeyeslitsnarrowingwithgreedtillhereyeswere
greenstones.Thenhewenttothedresser,tookthejugHanlon'smilkmanhadjustfilledfor
him,pouredwarmbubbledmilkonasaucerandsetitslowlyonthefloor.
Gurrhr!shecried,runningtolap.
Hewatchedthebristlesshiningwirilyintheweaklightasshetippedthreetimesandlicked
lightly.Wonderisittrueifyouclipthemtheycan'tmouseafter.Why?Theyshineinthedark,
perhaps,thetips.Orkindoffeelersinthedark,perhaps.
Helistenedtoherlickinglap.Hamandeggs,no.Nogoodeggswiththisdrouth.Wantpure
fresh water. Thursday: not a good day either for a mutton kidney at Buckley's. Fried with
butter,ashakeofpepper.BetteraporkkidneyatDlugacz's.Whilethekettleisboiling.She
lappedslower,thenlickingthesaucerclean.Whyaretheirtonguessorough?Tolapbetter,all
porousholes.Nothingshecaneat?Heglancedroundhim.No.
Onquietlycreakybootshewentupthestaircasetothehall,pausedbythebedroomdoor.
Shemightlikesomethingtasty.Thinbreadandbuttershelikesinthemorning.Stillperhaps:
onceinaway.
Hesaidsoftlyinthebarehall:
I'mgoingroundthecorner.Bebackinaminute.
Andwhenhehadheardhisvoicesayitheadded:
Youdon'twantanythingforbreakfast?
Asleepysoftgruntanswered:
Mn.
No.Shedidn'twantanything.Heheardthenawarmheavysigh,softer,assheturnedover
andtheloosebrassquoitsofthebedsteadjingled.Mustgetthosesettledreally.Pity.Allthe
wayfromGibraltar.ForgottenanylittleSpanishsheknew.Wonderwhatherfathergavefor
it.Oldstyle.Ahyes!ofcourse.Boughtitatthegovernor'sauction.Gotashortknock.Hardas
nailsatabargain,oldTweedy.Yes,sir.AtPlevnathatwas.Irosefromtheranks,sir,andI'm
proudofit.Stillhehadbrainsenoughtomakethatcornerinstamps.Nowthatwasfarseeing.
Hishandtookhishatfromthepegoverhisinitialledheavyovercoatandhislostproperty
officesecondhandwaterproof.Stamps:stickybackpictures.Daresaylotsofofficersareinthe
swim too. Course they do. The sweated legend in the crown of his hat told him mutely:
Plasto'shighgrade ha. He peeped quickly inside the leather headband. White slip of paper.
Quitesafe.
Onthedoorstephefeltinhishippocketforthelatchkey.Notthere.Inthe trousers I left
off. Must get it. Potato I have. Creaky wardrobe. No use disturbing her. She turned over
sleepily that time. He pulled the halldoor to after him very quietly, more, till the footleaf
droppedgentlyoverthethreshold,alimplid.Lookedshut.AllrighttillIcomebackanyhow.
Hecrossedtothebrightside,avoidingtheloosecellarflapofnumberseventyfive.Thesun
wasnearingthesteepleofGeorge'schurch.BeawarmdayIfancy.Speciallyintheseblack

clothesfeelitmore.Blackconducts,reflects,(refractsisit?),theheat.ButIcouldn'tgointhat
lightsuit.Makeapicnicofit.Hiseyelidssankquietlyoftenashewalkedinhappywarmth.
Boland'sbreadvandeliveringwithtraysourdailybutsheprefersyesterday'sloavesturnovers
crisp crowns hot. Makes you feel young. Somewhere in the east: early morning: set off at
dawn.Travelroundinfrontofthesun,stealaday'smarchonhim.Keepitupforevernever
growadayoldertechnically.Walkalongastrand,strangeland,come to a city gate,sentry
there,oldrankertoo,oldTweedy'sbigmoustaches,leaningonalongkindofaspear.Wander
throughawnedstreets.Turbanedfacesgoingby.Darkcavesofcarpetshops,bigman,Turko
the terrible, seated crosslegged, smoking a coiled pipe. Cries of sellers in the streets. Drink
waterscentedwithfennel,sherbet.Danderalongallday.Mightmeetarobberortwo.Well,
meethim.Gettingontosundown.Theshadowsofthemosquesamongthepillars:priestwith
ascrollrolledup.Ashiverofthetrees,signal,theeveningwind.Ipasson.Fadinggoldsky.A
mother watches me from her doorway. She calls her children home in their dark language.
High wall:beyond strings twanged. Night sky, moon, violet, colour of Molly's new garters.
Strings.Listen.Agirlplayingoneofthoseinstrumentswhatdoyoucallthem:dulcimers.I
pass.
Probablynotabitlikeitreally.Kindofstuffyouread:inthetrackofthesun.Sunburston
thetitlepage.Hesmiled,pleasinghimself.WhatArthurGriffithsaidabouttheheadpieceover
theFreemanleader:ahomerulesunrisingupinthenorthwestfromthelanewaybehindthe
bankofIreland.Heprolongedhispleasedsmile.Ikeytouchthat:homerulesunrisingupin
thenorthwest.
He approached Larry O'Rourke's. From the cellar grating floated up the flabby gush of
porter.Throughtheopendoorwaythebarsquirtedoutwhiffsofginger,teadust,biscuitmush.
Goodhouse,however:justtheendofthecitytraffic.ForinstanceM'Auley'sdownthere:n.g.
asposition.OfcourseiftheyranatramlinealongtheNorthCircularfromthecattlemarketto
thequaysvaluewouldgouplikeashot.
Baldheadovertheblind.Cuteoldcodger.Nousecanvassinghimforanad.Stillheknows
hisownbusinessbest.Thereheis,sureenough,myboldLarry,leaningagainstthesugarbin
inhisshirtsleeveswatchingtheapronedcurateswabupwithmopandbucket.SimonDedalus
takes him off to a tee with his eyes screwed up. Do you know what I'm going to tell you?
What'sthat,MrO'Rourke?Doyouknowwhat?TheRussians,they'donlybeaneighto'clock
breakfastfortheJapanese.
Stop and say a word: about the funeral perhaps. Sad thing about poor Dignam, Mr
O'Rourke.
TurningintoDorsetstreethesaidfreshlyingreetingthroughthedoorway:
Goodday,MrO'Rourke.
Gooddaytoyou.
Lovelyweather,sir.
'Tisallthat.
Where do they get the money? Coming up redheaded curates from the county Leitrim,
rinsing empties and old man in the cellar. Then, lo and behold, they blossom out as Adam
FindlatersorDanTallons.Thenthinofthecompetition.Generalthirst.Goodpuzzlewouldbe
crossDublinwithoutpassingapub.Saveittheycan't.Offthedrunksperhaps.Putdownthree
andcarryfive.Whatisthat,abobhereandthere,dribsanddrabs.Onthewholesaleorders
perhaps.Doingadoubleshufflewiththetowntravellers.Squareityouwiththebossandwe'll
splitthejob,see?
Howmuchwouldthattottoofftheporterinthemonth?Saytenbarrelsofstuff.Sayhegot
tenpercentoff.Omore.Fifteen.HepassedSaintJoseph'sNationalschool.Brats'clamour.
Windows open. Fresh air helps memory. Or a lilt. Ahbeesee defeegee kelomen opeecue
rustyouveedoubleyou.Boysarethey?Yes.Inishturk.Inishark.Inishboffin.Attheirjoggerfry.
Mine.SlieveBloom.

HehaltedbeforeDlugacz'swindow,staringatthehanksofsausages,polonies,blackand
white. Fifteen multiplied by. The figures whitened in his mind, unsolved: displeased, he let
themfade.Theshinylinks,packedwithforcemeat,fedhisgazeandhebreathedintranquilly
thelukewarmbreathofcookedspicypigs'blood.
Akidneyoozedbloodgoutsonthewillowpatterneddish:thelast.Hestoodbythenextdoor
girlatthecounter.Wouldshebuyittoo,callingtheitemsfromaslipinherhand?Chapped:
washingsoda.AndapoundandahalfofDenny'ssausages.Hiseyesrestedonhervigorous
hips. Woods his name is. Wonder what he does. Wife is oldish. New blood. No followers
allowed. Strong pair of arms. Whacking a carpet on the clothesline. She does whack it, by
George.Thewayhercrookedskirtswingsateachwhack.
The ferreteyed porkbutcher folded the sausages he had snipped off with blotchy fingers,
sausagepink.Soundmeatthere:likeastallfedheifer.
Hetookapageupfromthepileofcutsheets:themodelfarmatKinnerethonthelakeshore
of Tiberias. Can become ideal winter sanatorium. Moses Montefiore. I thought he was.
Farmhouse, wall round it, blurred cattle cropping. He held the page from him: interesting:
readitnearer,thetitle, the blurred cropping cattle, the page rustling. A young white heifer.
Thosemorningsinthecattlemarket,thebeastslowingintheirpens,brandedsheep,flopand
fallofdung,thebreedersinhobnailedbootstrudgingthroughthelitter,slappingapalmona
ripemeated hindquarter, there's a prime one, unpeeled switches in their hands. He held the
pageaslantpatiently,bendinghissensesandhiswill,hissoftsubjectgazeatrest.Thecrooked
skirtswinging,whackbywhackbywhack.
The porkbutcher snapped two sheets from the pile, wrapped up her prime sausages and
madearedgrimace.
Now,mymiss,hesaid.
Shetenderedacoin,smilingboldly,holdingherthickwristout.
Thankyou,mymiss.Andoneshillingthreepencechange.Foryou,please?
MrBloompointedquickly.Tocatchupandwalkbehindherifshewentslowly,behindher
movinghams.Pleasanttoseefirstthinginthemorning.Hurryup,damnit.Makehaywhile
the sun shines. She stood outside the shop in sunlight and sauntered lazily to the right. He
sighed down his nose: they never understand. Sodachapped hands. Crusted toenails too.
Brownscapularsintatters,defendingherbothways.Thestingofdisregardglowedtoweak
pleasurewithinhisbreast.Foranother:aconstableoffdutycuddlingherinEccleslane.They
likethemsizeable.Primesausage.Oplease,MrPoliceman,I'mlostinthewood.
Threepence,please.
Hishandacceptedthemoisttenderglandandsliditintoasidepocket.Thenitfetchedup
threecoinsfromhistrousers'pocketandlaidthemontherubberprickles.Theylay,wereread
quicklyandquicklyslid,discbydisc,intothetill.
Thankyou,sir.Anothertime.
Aspeckofeagerfirefromfoxeyesthankedhim.Hewithdrewhisgazeafteraninstant.No:
betternot:anothertime.
Goodmorning,hesaid,movingaway.
Goodmorning,sir.
Nosign.Gone.Whatmatter?
HewalkedbackalongDorsetstreet,readinggravely.AgendathNetaim:planters'company.
To purchase waste sandy tracts from Turkish government and plant with eucalyptus trees.
Excellent for shade, fuel and construction.Orangegrovesandimmensemelonfieldsnorthof
Jaffa. You pay eighty marks and they plant a dunam of land for you with olives, oranges,
almonds or citrons. Olives cheaper: oranges need artificial irrigation. Every year you get a
sendingofthecrop.Yournameenteredforlifeasownerinthebookoftheunion.Canpayten
downandthebalanceinyearlyinstalments.Bleibtreustrasse34,Berlin,W.15.

Nothingdoing.Stillanideabehindit.
Helookedatthecattle,blurredinsilverheat.Silverpowderedolivetrees.Quietlongdays:
pruning, ripening. Olives are packed in jars, eh? I have a few left from Andrews. Molly
spitting them out. Knows the taste of them now. Oranges in tissue paper packed in crates.
Citronstoo.WonderispoorCitronstillinSaintKevin'sparade.AndMastianskywiththeold
cither.Pleasanteveningswehadthen.MollyinCitron'sbasketchair.Nicetohold,coolwaxen
fruit, hold in the hand, lift it to the nostrils and smell the perfume. Like that, heavy, sweet,
wildperfume.Alwaysthesame,yearafteryear.Theyfetchedhighpricestoo,Moiseltoldme.
Arbutusplace:Pleasantsstreet:pleasantoldtimes.Mustbewithoutaflaw,hesaid.Coming
allthatway:Spain,Gibraltar,Mediterranean,theLevant.Crateslineduponthequaysideat
Jaffa,chapticking them off in a book, navvies handling them barefoot in soiled dungarees.
There'swhatdoyoucallhimoutof.Howdoyou?Doesn'tsee.Chapyouknowjusttosalutebit
ofabore.HisbackislikethatNorwegiancaptain's.WonderifI'llmeethimtoday.Watering
cart.Toprovoketherain.Onearthasitisinheaven.
Acloudbegantocoverthesunslowly,wholly.Grey.Far.
No,notlikethat.Abarrenland,barewaste.Vulcaniclake,thedeadsea:nofish,weedless,
sunkdeepintheearth.Nowindcouldliftthosewaves,greymetal,poisonousfoggywaters.
Brimstonetheycalleditrainingdown:thecitiesoftheplain:Sodom,Gomorrah,Edom.All
dead names. A dead sea in a dead land, grey and old. Old now. It bore the oldest, the first
race. A bent hag crossed from Cassidy's, clutching a naggin bottle by the neck. The oldest
people.Wanderedfarawayoveralltheearth,captivitytocaptivity,multiplying,dying,being
born everywhere. It lay there now. Now it could bear no more. Dead: an old woman's: the
greysunkencuntoftheworld.
Desolation.
Greyhorrorsearedhisflesh.FoldingthepageintohispocketheturnedintoEcclesstreet,
hurryinghomeward.Coldoilsslidalonghisveins,chillinghisblood:agecrustinghimwitha
salt cloak. Well, I am here now. Yes, I am here now. Morning mouth bad images. Got up
wrong side of the bed. Must begin again those Sandow's exercises. On the hands down.
Blotchybrownbrickhouses.Numbereightystillunlet.Whyisthat?Valuationisonlytwenty
eight.Towers,Battersby,North,MacArthur:parlourwindowsplasteredwithbills.Plasterson
a sore eye. To smell the gentle smoke of tea, fume of the pan, sizzling butter. Be near her
amplebedwarmedflesh.Yes,yes.
QuickwarmsunlightcamerunningfromBerkeleyroad,swiftly,inslimsandals,alongthe
brighteningfootpath.Runs,sherunstomeetme,agirlwithgoldhaironthewind.
Two letters and a card lay on the hallfloor. He stooped and gathered them. Mrs Marion
Bloom.Hisquickenedheartslowedatonce.Boldhand.MrsMarion.
Poldy!
Entering the bedroom he halfclosed his eyes and walked through warm yellow twilight
towardshertousledhead.
Whoarethelettersfor?
Helookedatthem.Mullingar.Milly.
AletterformefromMilly,hesaidcarefully,andacardtoyou.Andaletterforyou.
Helaidhercardandletteronthetwillbedspreadnearthecurveofherknees.
Doyouwanttheblindup?
Lettingtheblindupbygentletugshalfwayhisbackwardeyesawherglanceattheletter
andtuckitunderherpillow.
Thatdo?heasked,turning.
Shewasreadingthecard,proppedonherelbow.
Shegotthethings,shesaid.
Hewaitedtillshehadlaidthecardasideandcurledherselfbackslowlywithasnugsigh.

Hurryupwiththattea,shesaid.I'mparched.
Thekettleisboiling,hesaid.
Buthedelayedtoclearthechair:herstripedpetticoat,tossedsoiledlinen:andliftedallin
anarmfulontothefootofthebed.
Ashewentdownthekitchenstairsshecalled:
Poldy!
What?
Scaldtheteapot.
Ontheboilsureenough:aplumeofsteamfromthespout.Hescaldedandrinsedoutthe
teapotandputinfourfullspoonsoftea,tiltingthekettlethentoletthewaterflowin.Having
set it to draw he took off the kettle, crushed the pan flat on the live coals and watched the
lumpofbutterslideandmelt.Whileheunwrappedthekidneythecatmewedhungrilyagainst
him.Givehertoomuchmeatshewon'tmouse.Saytheywon'teatpork.Kosher.Here.Helet
the bloodsmeared paper fall to her and dropped the kidney amid the sizzling butter sauce.
Pepper.Hesprinkleditthroughhisfingersringwisefromthechippedeggcup.
Then he slit open his letter, glancing down the page and over. Thanks: new tam: Mr
Coghlan:loughOwelpicnic:youngstudent:BlazesBoylan'sseasidegirls.
Theteawasdrawn.Hefilledhisownmoustachecup,shamcrown
Derby,smiling.SillyMilly'sbirthdaygift.Onlyfiveshewasthen.No,wait:four.Igave
hertheamberoidnecklaceshebroke.Puttingpiecesoffoldedbrownpaperintheletterboxfor
her.Hesmiled,pouring.
O,MillyBloom,youaremydarling.
Youaremylookingglassfromnighttomorning.
I'dratherhaveyouwithoutafarthing
ThanKateyKeoghwithherassandgarden.

Poor old professor Goodwin. Dreadful old case. Still he was a courteous old chap.
OldfashionedwayheusedtobowMollyofftheplatform.Andthelittlemirrorinhissilkhat.
ThenightMillybroughtitintotheparlour.O,lookwhatIfoundinprofessorGoodwin'shat!
Allwelaughed.Sexbreakingouteventhen.Pertlittlepieceshewas.
Heproddedaforkintothekidneyandslappeditover:thenfittedtheteapotonthetray.Its
hump bumped as he took it up. Everything on it? Bread and butter, four, sugar, spoon, her
cream.Yes.Hecarrieditupstairs,histhumbhookedintheteapothandle.
Nudging the door open with his knee he carried the tray in and set it on the chair by the
bedhead.
Whatatimeyouwere!shesaid.
Shesetthebrassesjinglingassheraisedherselfbriskly,anelbowonthepillow.Helooked
calmlydownonherbulkandbetweenherlargesoftbubs,slopingwithinhernightdresslikea
shegoat'sudder.Thewarmthofhercouchedbodyroseontheair,minglingwiththefragrance
oftheteashepoured.
A strip of torn envelope peeped from under the dimpled pillow. In the act of going he
stayedtostraightenthebedspread.
Whowastheletterfrom?heasked.
Boldhand.Marion.
O,Boylan,shesaid.He'sbringingtheprogramme.
Whatareyousinging?
LacidaremwithJ.C.Doyle,shesaid,andLove'sOldSweetSong.
Her full lips, drinking, smiled. Rather stale smell that incense leaves next day. Like foul
flowerwater.
Wouldyoulikethewindowopenalittle?

Shedoubledasliceofbreadintohermouth,asking:
Whattimeisthefuneral?
Eleven,Ithink,heanswered.Ididn'tseethepaper.
Followingthepointingofherfingerhetookupalegofhersoileddrawersfromthebed.
No?Then,atwistedgreygarterloopedroundastocking:rumpled,shinysole.
No:thatbook.
Otherstocking.Herpetticoat.
Itmusthavefelldown,shesaid.
He felt here and there. Voglio e non vorrei. Wonder if she pronounces that right: voglio.
Not in the bed. Must have slid down. He stooped and lifted the valance. The book, fallen,
sprawledagainstthebulgeoftheorangekeyedchamberpot.
Showhere,shesaid.Iputamarkinit.There'sawordIwantedtoaskyou.
She swallowed a draught of tea from her cup held by nothandle and, having wiped her
fingertipssmartlyontheblanket,begantosearchthetextwiththehairpintillshereachedthe
word.
Methimwhat?heasked.
Here,shesaid.Whatdoesthatmean?
Heleaneddownwardandreadnearherpolishedthumbnail.
Metempsychosis?
Yes.Who'shewhenhe'sathome?
Metempsychosis, he said, frowning. It's Greek: from the Greek. That means the
transmigrationofsouls.
O,rocks!shesaid.Tellusinplainwords.
He smiled, glancing askance at her mocking eyes. The same young eyes. The first night
afterthecharades.Dolphin'sBarn.Heturnedoverthesmudgedpages.Ruby:thePrideofthe
Ring.Hello.Illustration.FierceItalianwithcarriagewhip.MustbeRubyprideoftheonthe
floornaked.Sheetkindlylent.ThemonsterMaffeidesistedandflunghisvictimfromhimwith
an oath. Cruelty behind it all. Doped animals. Trapeze at Hengler's. Had to look the other
way.Mobgaping.Breakyourneckandwe'llbreakoursides.Familiesofthem.Bonethem
youngsotheymetamspychosis.Thatweliveafterdeath.Oursouls.Thataman'ssoulafterhe
dies.Dignam'ssoul...
Didyoufinishit?heasked.
Yes, she said. There's nothing smutty in it. Is she in love with the first fellow all the
time?
Neverreadit.Doyouwantanother?
Yes.GetanotherofPauldeKock's.Nicenamehehas.
Shepouredmoreteaintohercup,watchingitflowsideways.
MustgetthatCapelstreetlibrarybookrenewedorthey'llwritetoKearney,myguarantor.
Reincarnation:that'stheword.
Somepeoplebelieve,hesaid,thatwegoonlivinginanotherbodyafterdeath,thatwe
lived before. They call it reincarnation. That we all lived before on the earth thousands of
yearsagoorsomeotherplanet.Theysaywehaveforgottenit.Somesaytheyremembertheir
pastlives.
Thesluggishcreamwoundcurdlingspiralsthroughhertea.Betterremindheroftheword:
metempsychosis.Anexamplewouldbebetter.Anexample?
TheBath of the Nymph over the bed. Given away with the Easter numberofPhoto Bits:
Splendidmasterpieceinartcolours.Teabeforeyouputmilkin.Notunlikeherwithherhair
down:slimmer.ThreeandsixIgavefortheframe.Shesaiditwouldlookniceoverthebed.

Nakednymphs:Greece:andforinstanceallthepeoplethatlivedthen.
Heturnedthepagesback.
Metempsychosis,hesaid,iswhattheancientGreekscalledit.Theyusedtobelieveyou
could be changed into an animal or a tree, for instance. What they called nymphs, for
example.
Herspoonceasedtostirupthesugar.Shegazedstraightbeforeher,inhalingthroughher
archednostrils.
There'sasmellofburn,shesaid.Didyouleaveanythingonthefire?
Thekidney!hecriedsuddenly.
Hefittedthebookroughlyintohisinnerpocketand,stubbinghistoesagainstthebroken
commode, hurried out towards the smell, stepping hastily down the stairs with a flurried
stork's legs. Pungent smoke shot up in an angry jet from a side of the pan. By prodding a
prongoftheforkunderthekidneyhedetacheditandturneditturtleonitsback.Onlyalittle
burnt.Hetosseditoffthepanontoaplateandletthescantybrowngravytrickleoverit.
Cupofteanow.Hesatdown,cutandbutteredasliceoftheloaf.Heshoreawaytheburnt
fleshandflungittothecat.Thenheputaforkfulintohismouth,chewingwithdiscernment
thetoothsomepliantmeat.Donetoaturn.Amouthfuloftea.Thenhecutawaydiesofbread,
soppedoneinthegravyandputitinhismouth.Whatwasthataboutsomeyoungstudentand
apicnic?Hecreasedouttheletterathisside,readingitslowlyashechewed,soppinganother
dieofbreadinthegravyandraisingittohismouth.
DearestPapli
Thankseversomuchforthelovelybirthdaypresent.Itsuitsmesplendid.EveryonesaysI
amquitethebelleinmynewtam.Igotmummy'sIovelyboxofcreamsandamwriting.They
arelovely.Iamgettingonswimminginthephotobusinessnow.MrCoghlantookoneofme
andMrs.Willsendwhendeveloped.Wedidgreatbizyesterday.Fairdayandallthebeefto
theheelswerein.WearegoingtoloughOwelonMondaywithafewfriendstomakeascrap
picnic.Givemylovetomummyandtoyourselfabigkissandthanks.Ihearthematthepiano
downstairs. There is to be a concert in the Greville Arms on Saturday. There is a young
studentcomesheresomeeveningsnamedBannonhiscousinsorsomethingarebigswellsand
hesingsBoylan's(IwasonthepopofwritingBlazesBoylan's)songaboutthoseseasidegirls.
TellhimsillyMillysendsmybestrespects.Imustnowclosewithfondestlove
Yourfonddaughter,MILLY.
P.S.Excusebadwritingaminhurry.Byby.M.
Fifteenyesterday.Curious,fifteenthofthemonthtoo.Herfirstbirthdayawayfromhome.
Separation.Rememberthesummermorningshewasborn,runningtoknockupMrsThornton
inDenzillestreet.Jollyoldwoman.Lotofbabiesshemusthavehelpedintotheworld.She
knewfromthefirstpoorlittleRudywouldn'tlive.Well,Godisgood,sir.Sheknewatonce.
Hewouldbeelevennowifhehadlived.
His vacant face stared pityingly at the postscript. Excuse bad writing. Hurry. Piano
downstairs. Coming out of her shell. Row with her in the XL Cafe about the bracelet.
Wouldn'teathercakesorspeakorlook.Saucebox.Hesoppedotherdiesofbreadinthegravy
and ate piece after piece of kidney. Twelve and six a week. Not much. Still, she might do
worse.Musichallstage.Youngstudent.Hedrankadraughtofcoolerteatowashdownhis
meal.Thenhereadtheletteragain:twice.
O,well:sheknowshowtomindherself.Butifnot?No,nothinghashappened.Ofcourseit
might. Wait in any case till it does. A wild piece of goods. Her slim legs running up the
staircase.Destiny.Ripeningnow.
Vain:very.
He smiled with troubled affection at the kitchen window. Day I caught her in the street
pinching her cheeks to make them red. Anemic a little. Was given milk too long. On the

ERIN'SKINGthatdayroundtheKish.Damnedoldtubpitchingabout.Notabitfunky.Her
pale blue scarf loose in the wind with her hair. All dimpled cheeks and curls, Your head it
simplyswirls.
Seaside girls. Torn envelope. Hands stuck in his trousers' pockets, jarvey off for the day,
singing.Friendofthefamily.Swurls,hesays.Pierwithlamps,summerevening,band,
Thosegirls,thosegirls,
Thoselovelyseasidegirls.

Milly too. Young kisses: the first. Far away now past. Mrs Marion. Reading, lying back
now,countingthestrandsofherhair,smiling,braiding.
A soft qualm, regret, flowed down his backbone, increasing. Will happen, yes. Prevent.
Useless:can'tmove.Girl'ssweetlightlips.Willhappentoo.Hefelttheflowingqualmspread
overhim.Uselesstomovenow.Lipskissed,kissing,kissed.Fullglueywoman'slips.
Betterwheresheisdownthere:away.Occupyher.Wantedadogtopassthetime.Might
takeatripdownthere.Augustbankholiday,onlytwoandsixreturn.Sixweeksoff,however.
Mightworkapresspass.OrthroughM'Coy.
The cat, having cleaned all her fur, returned to the meatstained paper, nosed at it and
stalked to the door. She looked back at him, mewing. Wants to go out. Wait before a door
sometimeitwillopen.Letherwait.Hasthefidgets.Electric.Thunderintheair.Waswashing
atherearwithherbacktothefiretoo.
He felt heavy, full: then a gentle loosening of his bowels. He stood up, undoing the
waistbandofhistrousers.Thecatmewedtohim.
Miaow!hesaidinanswer.WaittillI'mready.
Heaviness:hotdaycoming.Toomuchtroubletofagupthestairstothelanding.
Apaper.Helikedtoreadatstool.HopenoapecomesknockingjustasI'm.
InthetabledrawerhefoundanoldnumberofTitbits.Hefoldeditunderhisarmpit,wentto
thedoorandopenedit.Thecatwentupinsoftbounds.Ah,wantedtogoupstairs,curlupina
ballonthebed.
Listening,heheardhervoice:
Come,come,pussy.Come.
Hewentoutthroughthebackdoorintothegarden:stoodtolistentowardsthenextgarden.
Nosound.Perhapshangingclothesouttodry.Themaidwasinthegarden.Finemorning.
Hebentdowntoregardaleanfileofspearmintgrowingbythewall.Makeasummerhouse
here.Scarletrunners.Virginiacreepers.Wanttomanurethewholeplaceover,scabbysoil.A
coatofliverofsulphur.Allsoillikethatwithoutdung.Householdslops.Loam,whatisthis
thatis?Thehensinthenextgarden:theirdroppingsareverygoodtopdressing.Bestofall
though are the cattle, especially when they are fed on those oilcakes. Mulch of dung. Best
thingtocleanladies'kidgloves.Dirtycleans.Ashestoo.Reclaimthewholeplace.Growpeas
in that corner there. Lettuce. Always have fresh greens then. Still gardens have their
drawbacks.ThatbeeorbluebottlehereWhitmonday.
Hewalkedon.Whereismyhat,bytheway?Musthaveputitbackonthepeg.Orhanging
up on the floor. Funny I don't remember that. Hallstand too full. Four umbrellas, her
raincloak. Picking up the letters. Drago's shopbell ringing. Queer I was just thinking that
moment.Brownbrillantinedhairoverhiscollar.Justhadawashandbrushup.WonderhaveI
timeforabaththismorning.Tarastreet.ChapinthepayboxtheregotawayJamesStephens,
theysay.O'Brien.
DeepvoicethatfellowDlugaczhas.Agendathwhatisit?Now,mymiss.Enthusiast.
Hekickedopenthecrazydoorofthejakes.Betterbecarefulnottogetthesetrousersdirty
forthefuneral.Hewentin,bowinghisheadunderthelowlintel.Leavingthedoorajar,amid
thestenchofmouldylimewashandstalecobwebsheundidhisbraces.Beforesittingdownhe
peered through a chink up at the nextdoor windows. The king was in his countinghouse.

Nobody.
Asquatonthecuckstoolhefoldedouthispaper,turningitspagesoveronhisbaredknees.
Something new and easy. No great hurry. Keep it a bit. Our prize titbit: Matcham's
Masterstroke.WrittenbyMrPhilipBeaufoy,Playgoers'Club,London.Paymentattherateof
oneguineaacolumnhasbeenmadetothewriter.Threeandahalf.Threepoundsthree.Three
pounds,thirteenandsix.
Quietlyheread,restraininghimself,thefirstcolumnand,yieldingbutresisting,beganthe
second.Midway,hislastresistanceyielding,heallowedhisbowelstoeasethemselvesquietly
asheread,readingstillpatientlythatslightconstipationofyesterdayquitegone.Hopeit'snot
toobigbringonpilesagain.No,justright.So.Ah!Costive.Onetabloidofcascarasagrada.
Life might be so. It did not move or touch him but it was something quick and neat. Print
anything now. Silly season. He read on, seated calm above his own rising smell. Neat
certainly.Matchamoftenthinksofthemasterstrokebywhichhewonthelaughingwitchwho
now.Beginsandendsmorally.Handinhand.Smart.Heglancedbackthroughwhathehad
readand,whilefeelinghiswaterflowquietly,heenviedkindlyMrBeaufoywhohadwritten
itandreceivedpaymentofthreepounds,thirteenandsix.
Might manage a sketch. By Mr and Mrs L. M. Bloom. Invent a story for some proverb.
Which?TimeIusedtotryjottingdownonmycuffwhatshesaiddressing.Dislikedressing
together. Nicked myself shaving. Biting her nether lip, hooking the placket of her skirt.
Timing her. 9.l5. Did Roberts pay you yet? 9.20. What had Gretta Conroy on? 9.23. What
possessedmetobuythiscomb?9.24.I'mswelledafterthatcabbage.Aspeckofdustonthe
patentleatherofherboot.
Rubbing smartly in turn each welt against her stockinged calf. Morning after the bazaar
dancewhenMay'sbandplayedPonchielli'sdanceofthehours.Explainthat:morninghours,
noon,theneveningcomingon,thennighthours.Washingherteeth.Thatwasthefirstnight.
Her head dancing. Her fansticks clicking. Is that Boylan well off? He has money. Why? I
noticedhehadagoodrichsmelloffhisbreathdancing.Nousehummingthen.Alludetoit.
Strange kind of music that last night. The mirror was in shadow. She rubbed her handglass
brisklyonherwoollenvestagainstherfullwaggingbub.Peeringintoit.Linesinhereyes.It
wouldn'tpanoutsomehow.
Evening hours, girls in grey gauze. Night hours then: black with daggers and eyemasks.
Poetical idea: pink, then golden, then grey, then black. Still, true to life also. Day: then the
night.
Hetoreawayhalftheprizestorysharplyandwipedhimselfwithit.Thenhegirdeduphis
trousers,bracedandbuttonedhimself.Hepulledbackthejerkyshakydoorofthejakesand
cameforthfromthegloomintotheair.
Inthebrightlight,lightenedandcooledinlimb,heeyedcarefullyhisblack trousers: the
ends, the knees, the houghs of the knees. What time is the funeral? Better find out in the
paper.
Acreakandadarkwhirrintheairhighup.ThebellsofGeorge'schurch.Theytolledthe
hour:louddarkiron.
Heigho!Heigho!
Heigho!Heigho!
Heigho!Heigho!

Quarterto.Thereagain:theovertonefollowingthroughtheair,third.
PoorDignam!
BylorriesalongsirJohnRogerson'squayMrBloomwalkedsoberly,pastWindmilllane,
Leask's the linseed crusher, the postal telegraph office. Could have given that address too.
Andpastthesailors'home.Heturnedfrom the morning noises of the quayside and walked
throughLimestreet.ByBrady'scottagesaboyfortheskinslolled,hisbucketofoffallinked,
smoking a chewed fagbutt. A smaller girl with scars of eczema on her forehead eyed him,

listlesslyholdingherbatteredcaskhoop.Tellhimifhesmokeshewon'tgrow.Olethim!His
lifeisn'tsuchabedofroses.Waitingoutsidepubstobringdahome.Comehometoma,da.
Slackhour:won't be many there. He crossed Townsend street, passed the frowning face of
Bethel.El,yes:houseof:Aleph,Beth.AndpastNichols'theundertaker.Atelevenitis.Time
enough. Daresay Corny Kelleher bagged the job for O'Neill's. Singing with his eyes shut.
Corny.Metheronceinthepark.Inthedark.Whatalark.Policetout.Hernameandaddress
shethentoldwithmytooraloomtooraloomtay.O,surelyhebaggedit.Buryhimcheapina
whatyoumaycall.Withmytooraloom,tooraloom,tooraloom,tooraloom.
InWestlandrowhehaltedbeforethewindowoftheBelfastandOrientalTeaCompanyand
readthelegendsofleadpaperedpackets:choiceblend,finestquality,familytea.Ratherwarm.
Tea.MustgetsomefromTomKernan.Couldn'taskhimatafuneral,though.Whilehiseyes
stillreadblandlyhetookoffhishatquietlyinhalinghishairoilandsenthisrighthandwith
slow grace over his brow and hair. Very warm morning. Under their dropped lids his eyes
foundthetinybowoftheleatherheadbandinsidehishighgradeha.Justthere.Hisrighthand
camedownintothebowlofhishat.Hisfingersfoundquicklyacardbehindtheheadbandand
transferredittohiswaistcoatpocket.
Sowarm.Hisrighthandoncemoremoreslowlywentoverhisbrowandhair.Thenheput
onhishatagain,relieved:andreadagain:choiceblend,madeofthefinestCeylonbrands.The
far east. Lovely spot it must be: the garden of the world, big lazy leaves to float about on,
cactuses,flowerymeads,snakylianastheycallthem.Wonderisitlikethat.ThoseCinghalese
lobbingaboutinthesunindolcefarniente,notdoingahand'sturnallday.Sleepsixmonths
outoftwelve.Toohottoquarrel.Influenceoftheclimate.Lethargy.Flowersofidleness.The
airfeedsmost.Azotes.HothouseinBotanicgardens.Sensitiveplants.Waterlilies.Petalstoo
tired to. Sleeping sickness in the air. Walk on roseleaves. Imagine trying to eat tripe and
cowheel. Where was the chap I saw in that picture somewhere? Ah yes, in the dead sea
floatingonhisback,readingabookwithaparasolopen.Couldn'tsinkifyoutried:sothick
withsalt.Becausetheweightofthewater,no,theweightofthebodyinthewaterisequalto
theweightofthewhat?Orisitthevolumeisequaltotheweight?It'salawsomethinglike
that. Vance in High school cracking his fingerjoints, teaching. The college curriculum.
Cracking curriculum. What is weight really when you say the weight? Thirtytwo feet per
secondpersecond.Lawoffallingbodies:persecondpersecond.Theyallfalltotheground.
Theearth.It'stheforceofgravityoftheearthistheweight.
Heturnedawayandsaunteredacrosstheroad.Howdidshewalkwithhersausages?Like
thatsomething.AshewalkedhetookthefoldedFreemanfrom his sidepocket, unfolded it,
rolled it lengthwise in a baton and tapped it at each sauntering step against his trouserleg.
Carelessair:justdropintosee.Persecondpersecond.Persecondforeveryseconditmeans.
Fromthecurbstonehedartedakeenglancethroughthedoorofthepostoffice.Toolatebox.
Posthere.Noone.In.
Hehandedthecardthroughthebrassgrill.
Arethereanylettersforme?heasked.
Whilethepostmistresssearchedapigeonholehegazedattherecruitingposterwithsoldiers
ofallarmsonparade:andheldthetipofhisbatonagainsthisnostrils,smellingfreshprinted
ragpaper.Noanswerprobably.Wenttoofarlasttime.
Thepostmistresshandedhimbackthroughthegrillhiscardwithaletter.Hethankedher
andglancedrapidlyatthetypedenvelope.
HenryFlowerEsq,c/oP.O.WestlandRow,City.
Answered anyhow. He slipped card and letter into his sidepocket, reviewing again the
soldiersonparade.Where'soldTweedy'sregiment?Castoffsoldier.There:bearskincapand
hackle plume. No, he's a grenadier. Pointed cuffs. There he is: royal Dublin fusiliers.
Redcoats.Tooshowy.Thatmustbewhythewomengoafterthem.Uniform.Easiertoenlist
anddrill.MaudGonne'sletterabouttakingthemoffO'Connellstreetatnight:disgracetoour
Irishcapital.Griffith'spaperisonthesametacknow:anarmyrottenwithvenerealdisease:

overseas or halfseasover empire. Half baked they look: hypnotised like. Eyes front. Mark
time. Table: able. Bed: ed. The King's own. Never see him dressed up as a fireman or a
bobby.Amason,yes.
Hestrolledoutofthepostofficeandturnedtotheright.Talk:asifthatwouldmendmatters.
His hand went into his pocket and a forefinger felt its way under the flap of the envelope,
rippingitopeninjerks.Womenwillpayalotofheed,Idon'tthink.Hisfingersdrewforththe
lettertheletterandcrumpledtheenvelopeinhispocket.Somethingpinnedon:photoperhaps.
Hair?No.
M'Coy.Getridofhimquickly.Takemeoutofmyway.Hatecompanywhenyou.
Hello,Bloom.Whereareyouoffto?
Hello,M'Coy.Nowhereinparticular.
How'sthebody?
Fine.Howareyou?
Justkeepingalive,M'Coysaid.
Hiseyesontheblacktieandclothesheaskedwithlowrespect:
Isthereany...notroubleIhope?Iseeyou're...
O,no,MrBloomsaid.PoorDignam,youknow.Thefuneralistoday.
Tobesure,poorfellow.Soitis.Whattime?
Aphotoitisn't.Abadgemaybe.
E...eleven,MrBloomanswered.
Imusttrytogetoutthere,M'Coysaid.Eleven,isit?Ionlyhearditlastnight.Whowas
tellingme?Holohan.YouknowHoppy?
Iknow.
MrBloomgazedacrosstheroadattheoutsiderdrawnupbeforethedooroftheGrosvenor.
Theporterhoistedthevaliseuponthewell.Shestoodstill,waiting,whiletheman,husband,
brother, like her, searched his pockets for change. Stylish kind of coat with that roll collar,
warmforadaylikethis,lookslikeblanketcloth.Carelessstandofherwithherhandsinthose
patchpockets.Likethathaughtycreatureatthepolomatch.Womenallforcastetillyoutouch
thespot.Handsomeisandhandsomedoes.Reservedabouttoyield.ThehonourableMrsand
Brutusisanhonourableman.Possessheroncetakethestarchoutofher.
I was with Bob Doran, he's on one of his periodical bends, and what do you call him
BantamLyons.JustdownthereinConway'swewere.
DoranLyonsinConway's.Sheraisedaglovedhandtoherhair.IncameHoppy.Havinga
wet.Drawingbackhisheadandgazingfarfrombeneathhisvailedeyelidshesawthebright
fawnskinshineintheglare,thebraideddrums.ClearlyIcanseetoday.Moistureaboutgives
longsightperhaps.Talkingofonethingoranother.Lady'shand.Whichsidewillshegetup?
And he said: Sad thing about our poor friend Paddy! What Paddy? I said. Poor little
PaddyDignam,hesaid.
Offtothecountry:Broadstoneprobably.Highbrownbootswithlacesdangling.Wellturned
foot.Whatishefoosteringoverthatchangefor?Seesmelooking.Eyeoutforotherfellow
always.Goodfallback.Twostringstoherbow.
Why?Isaid.What'swrongwithhim?Isaid.
Proud:rich:silkstockings.
Yes,MrBloomsaid.
HemovedalittletothesideofM'Coy'stalkinghead.Gettingupinaminute.
What'swrongwithhim?Hesaid.He'sdead,hesaid.And,faith,hefilledup.IsitPaddy
Dignam?Isaid.Icouldn'tbelieveitwhenIheardit.IwaswithhimnolaterthanFridaylast
or Thursday was it in the Arch. Yes, he said. He's gone. He died on Monday, poor fellow.

Watch!Watch!Silkflashrichstockingswhite.Watch!
Aheavytramcarhonkingitsgongslewedbetween.
Lost it. Curse your noisy pugnose. Feels locked out of it. Paradise and the peri. Always
happeninglikethat.Theverymoment.GirlinEustacestreethallwayMondaywasitsettling
hergarter.Herfriendcoveringthedisplayofespritdecorps.Well,whatareyougapingat?
Yes,yes,MrBloomsaidafteradullsigh.Anothergone.
Oneofthebest,M'Coysaid.
Thetrampassed.TheydroveofftowardstheLoopLinebridge,herrichglovedhandonthe
steelgrip.Flicker,flicker:thelaceflareofherhatinthesun:flicker,flick.
Wifewell,Isuppose?M'Coy'schangedvoicesaid.
O,yes,MrBloomsaid.Tiptop,thanks.
Heunrolledthenewspaperbatonidlyandreadidly:
WhatishomewithoutPlumtree'sPottedMeat?IncompleteWithitanabodeofbliss.
Mymissushasjustgotanengagement.Atleastit'snotsettledyet.
Valisetackagain.Bythewaynoharm.I'moffthat,thanks.
MrBloomturnedhislargeliddedeyeswithunhastyfriendliness.
Mywifetoo,hesaid.She'sgoingtosingataswaggeraffairintheUlsterHall,Belfast,
onthetwentyfifth.
Thatso?M'Coysaid.Gladtohearthat,oldman.Who'sgettingitup?
Mrs Marion Bloom. Not up yet. Queen was in her bedroom eating bread and. No book.
Blackened court cards laid along her thigh by sevens. Dark lady and fair man. Letter. Cat
furryblackball.Tornstripofenvelope.
Love's
Old
Sweet
Song
Comesloove'sold...

It'sakindofatour,don'tyousee,MrBloomsaidthoughtfully.Sweeeetsong.There'sa
committeeformed.Partsharesandpartprofits.
M'Coynodded,pickingathismoustachestubble.
O,well,hesaid.That'sgoodnews.
Hemovedtogo.
Well,gladtoseeyoulookingfit,hesaid.Meetyouknockingaround.
Yes,MrBloomsaid.
Tellyouwhat,M'Coysaid.Youmightputdownmynameatthefuneral,willyou?I'd
liketogobutImightn'tbeable,yousee.There'sadrowningcaseatSandycovemayturnup
andthenthecoronerandmyselfwouldhavetogodownifthebodyisfound.Youjustshove
inmynameifI'mnotthere,willyou?
I'lldothat,MrBloomsaid,movingtogetoff.That'llbeallright.
Right,M'Coysaidbrightly.Thanks,oldman.I'dgoifIpossiblycould.Well,tolloll.Just
C.P.M'Coywilldo.
Thatwillbedone,MrBloomansweredfirmly.
Didn'tcatchmenappingthatwheeze.Thequicktouch.Softmark.I'dlikemyjob.ValiseI
haveaparticularfancyfor.Leather.Cappedcorners,rivettededges,doubleactionleverlock.
BobCowleylenthimhisfortheWicklowregattaconcertlastyearandneverheardtidingsof
itfromthatgooddaytothis.
Mr Bloom, strolling towards Brunswick street, smiled. My missus has just gotan.Reedy
freckledsoprano.Cheeseparingnose.Niceenoughinitsway:foralittleballad.Nogutsinit.

Youandme,don'tyouknow:inthesameboat.Softsoaping.Giveyoutheneedlethatwould.
Can'thehearthedifference?Thinkhe'sthatwayinclinedabit.Againstmygrainsomehow.
Thought that Belfast would fetch him. I hope that smallpox up there doesn't get worse.
Supposeshewouldn'tletherselfbevaccinatedagain.Yourwifeandmywife.
Wonderishepimpingafterme?
Mr Bloom stood at the corner, his eyes wandering over the multicoloured hoardings.
Cantrell and Cochrane's Ginger Ale (Aromatic). Clery's Summer Sale. No, he's going on
straight.Hello.Leahtonight.MrsBandmannPalmer.Liketoseeheragaininthat.Hamletshe
played last night. Male impersonator. Perhaps he was a woman. Why Ophelia committed
suicide. Poor papa! How he used to talk of Kate Bateman in that. Outside the Adelphi in
London waited all the afternoon to get in. Year before I was born that was: sixtyfive. And
RistoriinVienna.Whatisthistherightnameis?ByMosenthalitis.Rachel,isit?No.The
scenehewasalwaystalkingaboutwheretheoldblindAbrahamrecognisesthevoiceandputs
hisfingersonhisface.
Nathan'svoice!Hisson'svoice!IhearthevoiceofNathanwholefthisfathertodieofgrief
andmiseryinmyarms,wholeftthehouseofhisfatherandlefttheGodofhisfather.
Everywordissodeep,Leopold.
Poorpapa!Poorman!I'mgladIdidn'tgointotheroomtolookathisface.Thatday!O,
dear!O,dear!Ffoo!Well,perhapsitwasbestforhim.
Mr Bloom went round the corner and passed the drooping nags of the hazard. No use
thinkingofitanymore.Nosebagtime.WishIhadn'tmetthatM'Coyfellow.
Hecamenearerandheardacrunchingofgildedoats,thegentlychampingteeth.Theirfull
buck eyes regarded him as he went by, amid the sweet oaten reek of horsepiss. Their
Eldorado.Poorjugginses!Damnalltheyknoworcareaboutanythingwiththeirlongnoses
stuckinnosebags.Toofullforwords.Stilltheygettheirfeedallrightandtheirdoss.Gelded
too:astumpofblackguttaperchawagginglimpbetweentheirhaunches.Mightbehappyall
thesamethatway.Goodpoorbrutestheylook.Stilltheirneighcanbeveryirritating.
Hedrewtheletterfromhispocketandfoldeditintothenewspaperhecarried.Mightjust
walkintoherhere.Thelaneissafer.
Hepassedthecabman'sshelter.Curiousthelifeofdriftingcabbies.Allweathers,allplaces,
time or setdown, no will of their own. Voglio e non. Like to give them an odd cigarette.
Sociable.Shoutafewflyingsyllablesastheypass.Hehummed:
Lacidaremlamano
Lalalalalala.

HeturnedintoCumberlandstreetand,goingonsomepaces,haltedintheleeofthestation
wall. Noone. Meade's timberyard. Piled balks. Ruins and tenements. With careful tread he
passed over a hopscotch court with its forgotten pickeystone. Not a sinner. Near the
timberyard a squatted child at marbles, alone, shooting the taw with a cunnythumb. A wise
tabby,ablinkingsphinx,watchedfromherwarmsill.Pitytodisturbthem.Mohammedcuta
pieceoutofhismantlenottowakeher.Openit.AndonceIplayedmarbleswhenIwentto
that old dame's school. She liked mignonette. Mrs Ellis's. And Mr? He opened the letter
withinthenewspaper.
Aflower.Ithinkit'sa.Ayellowflowerwithflattenedpetals.Notannoyedthen?Whatdoes
shesay?
DearHenry
Igotyourlastlettertomeandthankyouverymuchforit.Iamsorryyoudidnotlikemy
lastletter.Whydidyouenclosethestamps?Iamawfullyangrywithyou.IdowishIcould
punishyouforthat.IcalledyounaughtyboybecauseIdonotlikethatotherworld.Pleasetell
mewhat is the real meaning of that word? Are you not happy in your home you poorlittle
naughtyboy?IdowishIcoulddosomethingforyou.Pleasetellmewhatyouthinkofpoor

me.Ioftenthinkofthebeautifulnameyouhave.DearHenry,whenwillwemeet?Ithinkof
yousooftenyouhavenoidea.Ihaveneverfeltmyselfsomuchdrawntoamanasyou.Ifeel
sobadabout.Pleasewritemealongletterandtellmemore.RememberifyoudonotIwill
punishyou.SonowyouknowwhatIwilldotoyou,younaughtyboy,ifyoudonotwrote.O
how I long to meet you. Henry dear, do not deny my request before my patience are
exhausted. Then I will tell you all. Goodbye now, naughty darling, I have such a bad
headache.today.andwritebyreturntoyourlonging
Martha
P.S.Dotellmewhatkindofperfumedoesyourwifeuse.Iwanttoknow.
Hetoretheflowergravelyfromitspinholdsmeltitsalmostnosmellandplaceditinhis
heartpocket.Languageofflowers.Theylikeitbecausenoonecanhear.Orapoisonbouquet
to strike him down. Then walking slowly forward he read the letter again, murmuring here
andthereaword.Angry tulips with you darling manflower punish your cactus if you don't
please poor forgetmenot how I long violets to dear roses when we soon anemone meet all
naughty nightstalk wife Martha's perfume. Having read it all he took it from the newspaper
andputitbackinhissidepocket.
Weakjoyopenedhislips.Changedsincethefirstletter.Wonderdidshewroteitherself.
Doing the indignant: a girl of good family like me, respectable character. Could meet one
Sunday after the rosary. Thank you: not having any. Usual love scrimmage. Then running
roundcorners.BadasarowwithMolly.Cigarhasacoolingeffect.Narcotic.Gofurthernext
time.Naughtyboy:punish:afraidofwords,ofcourse.Brutal,whynot?Tryitanyhow.Abit
atatime.
Fingeringstilltheletterinhispockethedrewthepinoutofit.Commonpin,eh?Hethrew
itontheroad.Outofherclothessomewhere:pinnedtogether.Queerthenumberofpinsthey
alwayshave.Noroseswithoutthorns.
Flat Dublin voices bawled in his head. Those two sluts that night in the Coombe, linked
togetherintherain.
O,Marylostthepinofherdrawers.
Shedidn'tknowwhattodo
Tokeepitup
Tokeepitup.

It?Them.Suchabadheadache.Hasherrosesprobably.Orsittingalldaytyping.Eyefocus
badforstomachnerves.Whatperfumedoesyourwifeuse.Nowcouldyoumakeoutathing
likethat?
Tokeepitup.

Martha,Mary.IsawthatpicturesomewhereIforgetnowoldmasterorfakedformoney.
He is sitting in their house, talking. Mysterious. Also the two sluts in the Coombe would
listen.
Tokeepitup.

Nice kind of evening feeling. No more wandering about. Just loll there: quiet dusk: let
everythingrip.Forget.Tellaboutplacesyouhavebeen,strangecustoms.Theotherone,jar
onherhead,wasgettingthesupper:fruit,olives,lovelycoolwateroutofawell,stonecold
like the hole in the wall at Ashtown. Must carry a paper goblet next time I go to the
trottingmatches.Shelistenswithbigdarksofteyes.Tellher:moreandmore:all.Thenasigh:
silence.Longlonglongrest.
Going under the railway arch he took out the envelope, tore it swiftly in shreds and
scattered them towards the road. The shreds fluttered away, sank in the dank air: a white
flutter,thenallsank.
HenryFlower.Youcouldtearupachequeforahundredpoundsinthesameway.Simple
bit of paper. Lord Iveagh once cashed a sevenfigure cheque for a million in the bank of

Ireland.Showsyouthemoneytobemadeoutofporter.StilltheotherbrotherlordArdilaun
has to change his shirt four times a day, they say. Skin breeds lice or vermin. A million
pounds,waitamoment.Twopenceapint,fourpenceaquart,eightpenceagallonofporter,no,
oneandfourpenceagallonofporter.Oneandfourintotwenty:fifteenabout.Yes,exactly.
Fifteenmillionsofbarrelsofporter.
WhatamIsayingbarrels?Gallons.Aboutamillionbarrelsallthesame.
An incoming train clanked heavily above his head, coach after coach. Barrels bumped in
hishead:dullportersloppedandchurnedinside.Thebungholessprangopenandahugedull
flood leaked out, flowing together, winding through mudflats all over the level land, a lazy
poolingswirlofliquorbearingalongwideleavedflowersofitsfroth.
HehadreachedtheopenbackdoorofAllHallows.Steppingintotheporchhedoffedhis
hat,tookthecardfromhispocketandtuckeditagainbehindtheleatherheadband.Damnit.I
mighthavetriedtoworkM'CoyforapasstoMullingar.
Same notice on the door. Sermon by the very reverend John Conmee S.J. on saint Peter
Claver S.J. and the African Mission. Prayers for the conversion of Gladstone they had too
whenhewasalmostunconscious.Theprotestantsarethesame.ConvertDrWilliamJ.Walsh
D.D.tothetruereligion. Save China's millions. Wonder how they explain it to the heathen
Chinee.Preferanounceofopium.Celestials.Rankheresyforthem.Buddhatheirgodlying
onhissideinthemuseum.Takingiteasywithhandunderhischeek.Josssticksburning.Not
like Ecce Homo. Crown of thorns and cross. Clever idea Saint Patrick the shamrock.
Chopsticks? Conmee: Martin Cunningham knows him: distinguishedlooking. Sorry I didn't
workhimaboutgettingMollyintothechoirinsteadofthatFatherFarleywholookedafool
but wasn't. They're taught that. He's not going out in bluey specs with the sweat rolling off
himtobaptiseblacks,ishe?Theglasseswouldtaketheirfancy,flashing.Liketoseethem
sitting round in a ring with blub lips, entranced, listening. Still life. Lap it up like milk, I
suppose.
Thecoldsmellofsacredstonecalledhim.Hetrodthewornsteps,pushedthe swingdoor
andenteredsoftlybytherere.
Somethinggoingon:somesodality.Pitysoempty.Nicediscreetplacetobenextsomegirl.
Who is my neighbour? Jammed by the hour to slow music. That woman at midnight mass.
Seventhheaven.Womenkneltinthebencheswithcrimsonhaltersroundtheirnecks,heads
bowed.Abatchkneltatthealtarrails.Thepriestwentalongbythem,murmuring,holdingthe
thinginhishands.Hestoppedateach,tookoutacommunion,shookadroportwo(arethey
inwater?)offitandputitneatlyintohermouth.Herhatandheadsank.Thenthenextone.
Herhatsankatonce.Thenthenextone:asmalloldwoman.Thepriestbentdowntoputit
intohermouth,murmuringallthetime.Latin.Thenextone.Shutyoureyesandopenyour
mouth.What?Corpus:body.Corpse.GoodideatheLatin.Stupefiesthemfirst.Hospicefor
the dying. They don't seem to chew it: only swallow it down. Rum idea: eating bits of a
corpse.Whythecannibalscottontoit.
Hestoodasidewatchingtheirblindmaskspassdowntheaisle,onebyone,andseektheir
places. He approached a bench and seated himself in its corner, nursing his hat and
newspaper.Thesepotswehavetowear.Weoughttohavehatsmodelledonourheads.They
wereabouthimhereandthere,withheadsstillbowedintheircrimsonhalters,waitingforitto
melt in their stomachs. Something like those mazzoth: it's that sort of bread: unleavened
shewbread.Lookatthem.NowIbetitmakesthemfeelhappy.Lollipop.Itdoes.Yes,bread
ofangelsit'scalled.There'sabigideabehindit,kindofkingdomofGodiswithinyoufeel.
Firstcommunicants.Hokypokypennyalump.Thenfeelalllikeonefamilyparty,sameinthe
theatre,allinthesameswim.Theydo.I'msureofthat.Notsolonely.Inourconfraternity.
Thencomeoutabitspreeish.Letoffsteam.Thingisifyoureallybelieveinit.Lourdescure,
waters of oblivion, and the Knock apparition, statues bleeding. Old fellow asleep near that
confessionbox.Hencethosesnores.Blindfaith.Safeinthearmsofkingdomcome.Lullsall
pain.Wakethistimenextyear.

He saw the priest stow the communion cup away, well in, and kneel an instantbeforeit,
showingalargegreybootsolefromunderthelaceaffairhehadon.Supposehelostthepinof
his. He wouldn't know what to do to. Bald spot behind. Letters on his back: I.N.R.I? No:
I.H.S.MollytoldmeonetimeIaskedher.Ihavesinned:orno:Ihavesuffered,itis.Andthe
otherone?Ironnailsranin.
MeetoneSundayaftertherosary.Donotdenymyrequest.Turnupwithaveilandblack
bag.Duskandthelightbehindher.Shemightbeherewitharibbonroundherneckanddothe
otherthingallthesameonthesly.Theircharacter.Thatfellowthatturnedqueen'sevidence
ontheinvinciblesheusedtoreceivethe,Careywashisname,thecommunioneverymorning.
Thisverychurch.PeterCarey,yes.No,PeterClaverIamthinkingof.DenisCarey.Andjust
imagine that. Wife and six children at home. And plotting that murder all the time. Those
crawthumpers,nowthat'sagoodnameforthem,there'salwayssomethingshiftylookingabout
them.They'renotstraightmenofbusinesseither.O,no,she'snothere:theflower:no,no.By
theway,didItearupthatenvelope?Yes:underthebridge.
Thepriestwasrinsingoutthechalice:thenhetossedoffthedregssmartly.Wine.Makesit
morearistocraticthanforexampleifhedrankwhattheyareusedtoGuinness'sporterorsome
temperance beverage Wheatley's Dublin hop bitters or Cantrell and Cochrane's ginger ale
(aromatic).Doesn'tgivethemanyofit:shewwine:onlytheother.Coldcomfort.Piousfraud
but quite right: otherwise they'd have one old booser worse than another coming along,
cadgingforadrink.Queerthewholeatmosphereofthe.Quiteright.Perfectlyrightthatis.
Mr Bloom looked back towards the choir. Not going to be any music. Pity. Whohasthe
organhereIwonder?OldGlynnheknewhowtomakethatinstrumenttalk,thevibrato:fifty
poundsayeartheysayhehadinGardinerstreet.Mollywasinfinevoicethatday,theStabat
Materof Rossini. Father Bernard Vaughan's sermon first. Christ or Pilate? Christ, but don't
keepusallnightoverit.Musictheywanted.Footdrillstopped.Couldhearapindrop.Itold
hertopitchhervoiceagainstthatcorner.Icouldfeelthethrillintheair,thefull,thepeople
lookingup:
Quisesthomo.
Some of that old sacred music splendid. Mercadante: seven last words. Mozart's twelfth
mass:Gloria in that. Those old popes keen on music, on art and statues and pictures of all
kinds. Palestrina for example too. They had a gay old time while it lasted. Healthy too,
chanting, regular hours, then brew liqueurs. Benedictine. Green Chartreuse. Still, having
eunuchsintheirchoirthatwascomingitabitthick.Whatkindofvoiceisit?Mustbecurious
tohearaftertheirownstrongbasses.Connoisseurs.Supposetheywouldn'tfeelanythingafter.
Kindofaplacid.Noworry.Fallintoflesh,don'tthey?Gluttons,tall,longlegs.Whoknows?
Eunuch.Onewayoutofit.
Hesawthepriestbenddownandkissthealtarandthenfaceaboutandblessallthepeople.
Allcrossedthemselvesandstoodup.MrBloomglancedabouthimandthenstoodup,looking
over the risen hats. Stand up at the gospel of course. Then all settled down on their knees
againandhesatbackquietlyinhisbench.Thepriestcamedownfromthealtar,holdingthe
thing out from him, and he and the massboy answered each other in Latin. Then the priest
kneltdownandbegantoreadoffacard:
OGod,ourrefugeandourstrength...
Mr Bloom put his face forward to catch the words. English. Throw them the bone. I
rememberslightly.Howlongsinceyourlastmass?Gloriousandimmaculatevirgin.Joseph,
her spouse. Peter and Paul. More interesting if you understood what it was all about.
Wonderfulorganisationcertainly,goeslikeclockwork.Confession.Everyonewantsto.Then
Iwilltellyouall.Penance.Punishme,please.Greatweaponintheirhands.Morethandoctor
orsolicitor.Womandyingto.AndIschschschschschsch.Anddidyouchachachachacha?And
whydidyou?Lookdownatherringtofindanexcuse.Whisperinggallerywallshaveears.
Husband learn to his surprise. God's little joke. Then out she comes. Repentance skindeep.
Lovelyshame.Prayatanaltar.HailMaryandHolyMary.Flowers,incense,candlesmelting.

Hide her blushes. Salvation army blatant imitation. Reformed prostitute will address the
meeting.HowIfoundtheLord.SquareheadedchapsthosemustbeinRome:theyworkthe
whole show. And don't they rake in the money too? Bequests also: to the P.P. for the time
being in his absolute discretion. Masses for the repose of my soul to be said publicly with
open doors. Monasteries and convents. The priest in that Fermanagh will case in the
witnessbox. No browbeating him. He had his answer pat for everything. Liberty and
exaltation of our holy mother the church. The doctors of the church: they mapped out the
wholetheologyofit.
Thepriestprayed:
BlessedMichael,archangel,defendusinthehourofconflict.Beoursafeguardagainst
thewickednessandsnaresofthedevil(mayGodrestrainhim,wehumblypray!):anddothou,
Oprinceoftheheavenlyhost,bythepowerofGodthrustSatandowntohellandwithhim
thoseotherwickedspiritswhowanderthroughtheworldfortheruinofsouls.
The priest and the massboy stood up and walked off. All over. The women remained
behind:thanksgiving.
Better be shoving along. Brother Buzz. Come around with the plate perhaps. Pay your
Easterduty.
He stood up. Hello. Were those two buttons of my waistcoat open all the time? Women
enjoy it. Never tell you. But we. Excuse, miss, there's a (whh!) just a (whh!) fluff. Or their
skirtbehind,placketunhooked.Glimpsesofthemoon.Annoyedifyoudon't.Whydidn'tyou
tell me before. Still like you better untidy. Good job it wasn't farther south. He passed,
discreetlybuttoning,downtheaisleandoutthroughthemaindoorintothelight.Hestooda
moment unseeing by the cold black marble bowl while before him and behind two
worshippers dipped furtive hands in the low tide of holy water. Trams: a car of Prescott's
dyeworks: a widow in her weeds. Notice because I'm in mourning myself. He covered
himself.Howgoesthetime?Quarterpast.Timeenoughyet.Bettergetthatlotionmadeup.
Whereisthis?Ahyes,thelasttime.Sweny'sinLincolnplace.Chemistsrarelymove.Their
greenandgoldbeaconjarstooheavytostir.HamiltonLong's,foundedintheyearoftheflood.
Huguenotchurchyardnearthere.Visitsomeday.
HewalkedsouthwardalongWestlandrow.Buttherecipeisintheothertrousers.O,andI
forgotthatlatchkeytoo.Borethisfuneralaffair.Owell,poorfellow,it'snothisfault.When
was it I got it made up last? Wait. I changed a sovereign I remember. First of the month it
musthavebeenorthesecond.O,hecanlookitupintheprescriptionsbook.
The chemist turned back page after page. Sandy shrivelled smell he seems to have.
Shrunken skull. And old. Quest for the philosopher's stone. The alchemists. Drugs age you
after mental excitement. Lethargy then. Why? Reaction. A lifetime in a night. Gradually
changes your character. Living all the day among herbs, ointments, disinfectants. All his
alabasterlilypots.Mortarandpestle.Aq.Dist.Fol.Laur.TeVirid.Smellalmostcureyoulike
thedentist'sdoorbell.DoctorWhack.Heoughttophysichimselfabit.Electuaryoremulsion.
Thefirstfellowthatpickedanherbtocurehimselfhadabitofpluck.Simples.Wanttobe
careful.Enoughstuffheretochloroformyou.Test:turnsbluelitmuspaperred.Chloroform.
Overdoseoflaudanum.Sleepingdraughts.Lovephiltres.Paragoricpoppysyrupbadforcough.
Clogs the pores or the phlegm. Poisons the only cures. Remedy where you least expect it.
Cleverofnature.
Aboutafortnightago,sir?
Yes,MrBloomsaid.
He waited by the counter, inhaling slowly the keen reek of drugs, the dusty dry smell of
spongesandloofahs.Lotoftimetakenuptellingyourachesandpains.
Sweetalmondoilandtinctureofbenzoin,MrBloomsaid,andthenorangeflowerwater...
Itcertainlydidmakeherskinsodelicatewhitelikewax.
Andwhitewaxalso,hesaid.

Brings out the darkness of her eyes. Looking at me, the sheet up to her eyes, Spanish,
smellingherself,whenIwasfixingthelinksinmycuffs.Thosehomelyrecipesareoftenthe
best:strawberriesfortheteeth:nettlesandrainwater:oatmealtheysaysteepedinbuttermilk.
Skinfood.Oneoftheoldqueen'ssons,dukeofAlbanywasit?hadonlyoneskin.Leopold,
yes.Threewehave.Warts,bunionsandpimplestomakeitworse.Butyouwantaperfume
too. What perfume does your? Peau d'Espagne. That orangeflower water is so fresh. Nice
smell these soaps have. Pure curd soap. Time to get a bath round the corner. Hammam.
Turkish.Massage.Dirtgetsrolledupinyournavel.Nicerifanicegirldidit.AlsoIthinkI.
YesI.Doitinthebath.CuriouslongingI.Watertowater.Combinebusinesswithpleasure.
Pitynotimeformassage.Feelfreshthenalltheday.Funeralberatherglum.
Yes,sir,thechemistsaid.Thatwastwoandnine.Haveyoubroughtabottle?
No,MrBloomsaid.Makeitup,please.I'llcalllaterinthedayandI'lltakeoneofthese
soaps.Howmucharethey?
Fourpence,sir.
MrBloomraisedacaketohisnostrils.Sweetlemonywax.
I'lltakethisone,hesaid.Thatmakesthreeandapenny.
Yes,sir,thechemistsaid.Youcanpayalltogether,sir,whenyoucomeback.
Good,MrBloomsaid.
Hestrolledoutoftheshop,thenewspaperbatonunderhisarmpit,thecoolwrapperedsoap
inhislefthand.
AthisarmpitBantamLyons'voiceandhandsaid:
Hello,Bloom.What'sthebestnews?Isthattoday's?Showusaminute.
Shavedoffhismoustacheagain,byJove!Longcoldupperlip.Tolookyounger.Hedoes
lookbalmy.YoungerthanIam.
BantamLyons'syellowblacknailedfingersunrolledthebaton.Wantsawashtoo.Takeoff
theroughdirt.Goodmorning,haveyouusedPears'soap?Dandruffonhisshoulders.Scalp
wantsoiling.
IwanttoseeaboutthatFrenchhorsethat'srunningtoday,BantamLyonssaid.Wherethe
buggerisit?
Herustledthepleatedpages,jerkinghischinonhishighcollar.Barber'sitch.Tightcollar
he'lllosehishair.Betterleavehimthepaperandgetshutofhim.
Youcankeepit,MrBloomsaid.
Ascot.Goldcup.Wait,BantamLyonsmuttered.Halfamo.Maximumthesecond.
Iwasjustgoingtothrowitaway,MrBloomsaid.
BantamLyonsraisedhiseyessuddenlyandleeredweakly.
What'sthat?hissharpvoicesaid.
Isayyoucankeepit,MrBloomanswered.Iwasgoingtothrowitawaythatmoment.
Bantam Lyons doubted an instant, leering: then thrust the outspread sheets back on Mr
Bloom'sarms.
I'llriskit,hesaid.Here,thanks.
HespedofftowardsConway'scorner.Godspeedscut.
MrBloomfoldedthesheetsagaintoaneatsquareandlodgedthesoapinit,smiling.Silly
lips of that chap. Betting. Regular hotbed of it lately. Messenger boys stealing to put on
sixpence.Raffleforlargetenderturkey.YourChristmasdinnerforthreepence.JackFleming
embezzling to gamble then smuggled off to America. Keeps a hotel now. They nevercome
back.FleshpotsofEgypt.
Hewalkedcheerfullytowardsthemosqueofthebaths.Remindyouofamosque,redbaked
bricks,theminarets.CollegesportstodayIsee.Heeyedthehorseshoeposteroverthegateof

collegepark:cyclistdoubleduplikeacodinapot.Damnbadad.Nowiftheyhadmadeit
round like a wheel. Then the spokes: sports, sports, sports: and the hub big: college.
Somethingtocatchtheeye.
There'sHornblowerstandingattheporter'slodge.Keephimonhands:mighttakeaturnin
thereonthenod.Howdoyoudo,MrHornblower?Howdoyoudo,sir?
Heavenly weather really. If life was always like that. Cricket weather. Sit around under
sunshades.Overafterover.Out.Theycan'tplayithere.Duck for sixwickets.Still Captain
CullerbrokeawindowintheKildarestreetclubwithaslogtosquareleg.Donnybrookfair
moreintheirline.AndtheskullswewereacrackingwhenM'Carthytookthefloor.Heatwave.
Won'tlast.Alwayspassing,thestreamoflife,whichinthestreamoflifewetraceisdearer
thanthemall.
Enjoyabathnow:cleantroughofwater,coolenamel,thegentletepidstream.Thisismy
body.
He foresaw his pale body reclined in it at full, naked, in a womb of warmth, oiled by
scentedmeltingsoap,softlylaved.Hesawhistrunkandlimbsriprippledoverandsustained,
buoyedlightlyupward,lemonyellow:hisnavel,budofflesh:andsawthedarktangledcurls
ofhisbushfloating,floatinghairofthestreamaroundthelimpfatherofthousands,alanguid
floatingflower.
MartinCunningham,first,pokedhissilkhattedheadintothecreakingcarriageand,entering
deftly,seatedhimself.MrPowersteppedinafterhim,curvinghisheightwithcare.
Comeon,Simon.
Afteryou,MrBloomsaid.
MrDedaluscoveredhimselfquicklyandgotin,saying:
Yes,yes.
Areweallherenow?MartinCunninghamasked.Comealong,Bloom.
MrBloomenteredandsatinthevacantplace.Hepulledthedoortoafterhimandslammed
ittwicetillitshuttight.Hepassedanarmthroughthearmstrapandlookedseriouslyfromthe
opencarriagewindowattheloweredblindsoftheavenue.Onedraggedaside:anoldwoman
peeping. Nose whiteflattened against the pane. Thanking her stars she was passed over.
Extraordinarytheinteresttheytakeinacorpse.Gladtoseeusgowegivethemsuchtrouble
coming.Jobseemstosuitthem.Huggermuggerincorners.Slopaboutinslipperslappersfor
fearhe'dwake.Thengettingitready.Layingitout.MollyandMrsFlemingmakingthebed.
Pullitmoretoyourside.Ourwindingsheet.Neverknowwhowilltouchyoudead.Washand
shampoo.Ibelievetheyclipthenailsandthehair.Keepabitinanenvelope.Growsallthe
sameafter.Uncleanjob.
Allwaited.Nothingwassaid.Stowinginthewreathsprobably.Iamsittingonsomething
hard.Ah,thatsoap:inmyhippocket.Bettershiftitoutofthat.Waitforanopportunity.
Allwaited.Thenwheelswereheardfrominfront,turning:thennearer:thenhorses'hoofs.
Ajolt.Theircarriagebegantomove,creakingandswaying.Otherhoofsandcreakingwheels
startedbehind.Theblindsoftheavenuepassedandnumberninewithitscrapedknocker,door
ajar.Atwalkingpace.
They waited still, their knees jogging, till they had turned and were passing along the
tramtracks. Tritonville road. Quicker. The wheels rattled rolling over the cobbled causeway
andthecrazyglassesshookrattlinginthedoorframes.
Whatwayishetakingus?MrPoweraskedthroughbothwindows.
Irishtown,MartinCunninghamsaid.Ringsend.Brunswickstreet.
MrDedalusnodded,lookingout.
That'safineoldcustom,hesaid.Iamgladtoseeithasnotdiedout.
All watched awhile through their windows caps and hats lifted by passers. Respect. The
carriageswervedfromthetramtracktothesmootherroadpastWaterylane.MrBloomatgaze

sawalitheyoungman,cladinmourning,awidehat.
There'safriendofyoursgoneby,Dedalus,hesaid.
Whoisthat?
Yoursonandheir.
Whereishe?MrDedalussaid,stretchingoveracross.
Thecarriage,passingtheopendrainsandmoundsofrippeduproadwaybeforethetenement
houses,lurchedroundthecornerand,swervingbacktothetramtrack,rolledonnoisilywith
chatteringwheels.MrDedalusfellback,saying:
WasthatMulligancadwithhim?HisfidusAchates!
No,MrBloomsaid.Hewasalone.
DownwithhisauntSally,Isuppose,MrDedalussaid,theGouldingfaction,thedrunken
little costdrawer and Crissie, papa's little lump of dung, the wise child that knows her own
father.
Mr Bloom smiled joylessly on Ringsend road. Wallace Bros: the bottleworks: Dodder
bridge.
RichieGouldingandthelegalbag.Goulding,CollisandWardhecallsthefirm.Hisjokes
aregettingabitdamp.Greatcardhewas.WaltzinginStamerstreetwithIgnatiusGallaheron
aSundaymorning,thelandlady'stwohatspinnedonhishead.Outontherampageallnight.
Beginningtotellonhimnow:thatbackacheofhis,Ifear.Wifeironinghisback.Thinkshe'll
cureitwithpills.Allbreadcrumbstheyare.Aboutsixhundredpercentprofit.
He's in with a lowdown crowd, Mr Dedalus snarled. That Mulligan is a contaminated
bloodydoubledyedruffianbyallaccounts.HisnamestinksalloverDublin.Butwiththehelp
ofGodandHisblessedmotherI'llmakeitmybusinesstowritealetteroneofthosedaysto
hismotherorhisauntorwhateversheisthatwillopenhereyeaswideasagate.I'llticklehis
catastrophe,believeyoume.
Hecriedabovetheclatterofthewheels:
Iwon'thaveherbastardofanephewruinmyson.Acounterjumper'sson.Sellingtapes
inmycousin,PeterPaulM'Swiney's.Notlikely.
He ceased. Mr Bloom glanced from his angry moustache to Mr Power's mild face and
MartinCunningham'seyesandbeard,gravelyshaking.Noisyselfwilledman.Fullofhisson.
Heisright.Somethingtohandon.IflittleRudyhadlived.Seehimgrowup.Hearhisvoicein
thehouse.WalkingbesideMollyinanEtonsuit.Myson.Meinhiseyes.Strangefeelingit
wouldbe.Fromme.Justachance.MusthavebeenthatmorninginRaymondterraceshewas
atthewindowwatchingthetwodogsatitbythewalloftheceasetodoevil.Andthesergeant
grinning up. She had that cream gown on with the rip she never stitched. Give us a touch,
Poldy.God,I'mdyingforit.Howlifebegins.
Gotbigthen.HadtorefusetheGreystonesconcert.Mysoninsideher.Icouldhavehelped
himoninlife.Icould.Makehimindependent.LearnGermantoo.
Arewelate?MrPowerasked.
Tenminutes,MartinCunninghamsaid,lookingathiswatch.
Molly. Milly. Same thing watered down. Her tomboy oaths. O jumping Jupiter! Ye gods
and little fishes! Still, she's a dear girl. Soon be a woman. Mullingar. Dearest Papli. Young
student.Yes,yes:awomantoo.Life,life.
Thecarriageheeledoverandback,theirfourtrunksswaying.
Cornymighthavegivenusamorecommodiousyoke,MrPowersaid.
Hemight,MrDedalussaid,ifhehadn'tthatsquinttroublinghim.Doyoufollowme?
Heclosedhislefteye.MartinCunninghambegantobrushawaycrustcrumbsfrom under
histhighs.
Whatisthis,hesaid,inthenameofGod?Crumbs?

Someoneseemstohavebeenmakingapicnicpartyherelately,MrPowersaid.
Allraisedtheirthighsandeyedwithdisfavourthemildewedbuttonlessleatheroftheseats.
MrDedalus,twistinghisnose,frowneddownwardandsaid:
UnlessI'mgreatlymistaken.Whatdoyouthink,Martin?
Itstruckmetoo,MartinCunninghamsaid.
MrBloomsethisthighdown.GladItookthatbath.Feelmyfeetquiteclean.ButIwish
MrsFleminghaddarnedthesesocksbetter.
MrDedalussighedresignedly.
Afterall,hesaid,it'sthemostnaturalthingintheworld.
Did Tom Kernan turn up? Martin Cunningham asked, twirling the peak of his beard
gently.
Yes,MrBloomanswered.He'sbehindwithNedLambertandHynes.
AndCornyKelleherhimself?MrPowerasked.
Atthecemetery,MartinCunninghamsaid.
ImetM'Coythismorning,MrBloomsaid.Hesaidhe'dtrytocome.
Thecarriagehaltedshort.
What'swrong?
We'restopped.
Wherearewe?
MrBloomputhisheadoutofthewindow.
Thegrandcanal,hesaid.
Gasworks.Whoopingcoughtheysayitcures.GoodjobMillynevergotit.Poorchildren!
Doublesthemupblackandblueinconvulsions.Shamereally.Gotofflightlywithillnesses
compared.Onlymeasles.Flaxseedtea.Scarlatina,influenzaepidemics.Canvassingfordeath.
Don'tmissthischance.Dogs'homeoverthere.PooroldAthos!BegoodtoAthos,Leopold,is
my last wish. Thy will be done. We obey them in the grave. A dying scrawl. He tookitto
heart,pinedaway.Quietbrute.Oldmen'sdogsusuallyare.
Araindropspatonhishat.Hedrewbackandsawaninstantofshowerspraydotsoverthe
grey flags. Apart. Curious. Like through a colander. I thought it would. My boots were
creakingIremembernow.
Theweatherischanging,hesaidquietly.
Apityitdidnotkeepupfine,MartinCunninghamsaid.
Wantedforthecountry,MrPowersaid.There'sthesunagaincomingout.
MrDedalus,peeringthroughhisglassestowardstheveiledsun,hurledamutecurseatthe
sky.
It'sasuncertainasachild'sbottom,hesaid.
We'reoffagain.
The carriage turned again its stiff wheels and their trunks swayed gently. Martin
Cunninghamtwirledmorequicklythepeakofhisbeard.
TomKernanwasimmenselastnight,hesaid.AndPaddyLeonardtakinghimofftohis
face.
O,drawhimout,Martin,MrPowersaideagerly.Waittillyouhearhim,Simon,onBen
Dollard'ssingingofTheCroppyBoy.
Immense, Martin Cunningham said pompously. His singing of that simple ballad,
Martin,isthemosttrenchantrenderingIeverheardinthewholecourseofmyexperience.
Trenchant, Mr Power said laughing. He's dead nuts on that. And the retrospective
arrangement.

DidyoureadDanDawson'sspeech?MartinCunninghamasked.
Ididnotthen,MrDedalussaid.Whereisit?
Inthepaperthismorning.
MrBloomtookthepaperfromhisinsidepocket.ThatbookImustchangeforher.
No,no,MrDedalussaidquickly.Lateronplease.
Mr Bloom's glance travelled down the edge of the paper, scanning the deaths: Callan,
Coleman,Dignam,Fawcett,Lowry,Naumann,Peake,whatPeakeisthat?isitthechapwasin
Crosbie and Alleyne's? no, Sexton, Urbright. Inked characters fast fading on the frayed
breakingpaper.ThankstotheLittleFlower.Sadlymissed.Totheinexpressiblegriefofhis.
Aged88afteralongandtediousillness.Month'smind:Quinlan.OnwhosesoulSweetJesus
havemercy.
ItisnowamonthsincedearHenryfledTohishomeupaboveintheskyWhilehisfamily
weepsandmournshislossHopingsomedaytomeethimonhigh.
Itoreuptheenvelope?Yes.WheredidIputherletterafterIreaditinthebath?Hepatted
hiswaistcoatpocket.Thereallright.DearHenryfled.Beforemypatienceareexhausted.
Nationalschool.Meade'syard.Thehazard.Onlytwotherenow.Nodding.Full as a tick.
Toomuchboneintheirskulls.Theothertrottingroundwithafare.AnhouragoIwaspassing
there.Thejarviesraisedtheirhats.
Apointsman'sbackstraighteneditselfuprightsuddenlyagainstatramwaystandardbyMr
Bloom's window. Couldn't they invent something automatic so that the wheel itself much
handier?Wellbutthatfellowwouldlosehisjobthen?Wellbutthenanotherfellowwouldget
ajobmakingthenewinvention?
Antient concert rooms. Nothing on there. A man in a buff suit with a crape armlet. Not
muchgriefthere.Quartermourning.Peopleinlawperhaps.
TheywentpastthebleakpulpitofsaintMark's,undertherailwaybridge,pasttheQueen's
theatre: in silence. Hoardings: Eugene Stratton, Mrs Bandmann Palmer. Could I go to see
LEAH tonight, I wonder. I said I. Or theLilyofKillarney? Elster Grimes Opera Company.
Bigpowerfulchange.Wetbrightbillsfornextweek.FunontheBristol.MartinCunningham
couldworkapassfortheGaiety.Havetostandadrinkortwo.Asbroadasit'slong.
He'scomingintheafternoon.Hersongs.
Plasto's.SirPhilipCrampton'smemorialfountainbust.Whowashe?
Howdoyoudo?MartinCunninghamsaid,raisinghispalmtohisbrowinsalute.
Hedoesn'tseeus,MrPowersaid.Yes,hedoes.Howdoyoudo?
Who?MrDedalusasked.
BlazesBoylan,MrPowersaid.Thereheisairinghisquiff.
JustthatmomentIwasthinking.
MrDedalusbentacrosstosalute.FromthedooroftheRedBankthewhitediscofastraw
hatflashedreply:sprucefigure:passed.
MrBloomreviewedthenailsofhislefthand,thenthoseofhisrighthand.Thenails,yes.Is
thereanythingmoreinhimthattheyshesees?Fascination.WorstmaninDublin.Thatkeeps
himalive.Theysometimesfeelwhatapersonis.Instinct.Butatypelikethat.Mynails.Iam
justlookingatthem:wellpared.Andafter:thinkingalone.Bodygettingabitsofty.Iwould
notice that: from remembering. What causes that? I suppose the skin can't contract quickly
enough when the flesh falls off. But the shape is there. The shape is there still. Shoulders.
Hips.Plump.Nightofthedancedressing.Shiftstuckbetweenthecheeksbehind.
He clasped his hands between his knees and, satisfied, sent his vacant glance over their
faces.
MrPowerasked:
Howistheconcerttourgettingon,Bloom?

O,verywell,MrBloomsaid.Iheargreataccountsofit.It'sagoodidea,yousee...
Areyougoingyourself?
Wellno,MrBloomsaid.InpointoffactIhavetogodowntothecountyClareonsome
privatebusiness.Youseetheideaistotourthechieftowns.Whatyouloseononeyoucan
makeupontheother.
Quiteso,MartinCunninghamsaid.MaryAndersonisuptherenow.
Haveyougoodartists?
Louis Werner is touring her, Mr Bloom said. O yes, we'll have all topnobbers. J. C.
DoyleandJohnMacCormackIhopeand.Thebest,infact.
AndMadame,MrPowersaidsmiling.Lastbutnotleast.
Mr Bloom unclasped his hands in a gesture of soft politeness and clasped them. Smith
O'Brien.Someonehaslaidabunchofflowersthere.Woman.Mustbehisdeathday.Formany
happy returns. The carriage wheeling by Farrell's statue united noiselessly their unresisting
knees.
Oot:adullgarbedoldmanfromthecurbstonetenderedhiswares,hismouthopening:oot.
Fourbootlacesforapenny.
Wonder why he was struck off the rolls. Had his office in Hume street. Same house as
Molly'snamesake,Tweedy,crownsolicitorforWaterford.Hasthatsilkhateversince.Relics
ofolddecency.Mourningtoo.Terriblecomedown,poorwretch!Kickedaboutlikesnuffata
wake.O'Callaghanonhislastlegs.
And Madame. Twenty past eleven. Up. Mrs Fleming is in to clean. Doing her hair,
humming.voglioenonvorrei.No.vorreienon.Lookingatthetipsofherhairstoseeifthey
aresplit.Mitremaunpocoil.Beautifulonthattrehervoiceis:weepingtone.Athrush. A
throstle.Thereisawordthrostlethatexpressesthat.
HiseyespassedlightlyoverMrPower'sgoodlookingface.Greyishovertheears.Madame:
smiling.Ismiledback.Asmilegoesalongway.Onlypolitenessperhaps.Nicefellow.Who
knowsisthattrueaboutthewomanhekeeps?Notpleasantforthewife.Yettheysay,who
wasittoldme,thereisnocarnal.Youwouldimaginethatwouldgetplayedoutprettyquick.
Yes,itwasCroftonmethimoneeveningbringingherapoundofrumpsteak.Whatisthisshe
was?BarmaidinJury's.OrtheMoira,wasit?
TheypassedunderthehugecloakedLiberator'sform.
MartinCunninghamnudgedMrPower.
OfthetribeofReuben,hesaid.
Atallblackbeardedfigure,bentonastick,stumpingroundthecornerofElvery'sElephant
house,showedthemacurvedhandopenonhisspine.
Inallhispristinebeauty,MrPowersaid.
MrDedaluslookedafterthestumpingfigureandsaidmildly:
Thedevilbreakthehaspofyourback!
MrPower,collapsinginlaughter,shadedhisfacefromthewindowasthecarriagepassed
Gray'sstatue.
Wehaveallbeenthere,MartinCunninghamsaidbroadly.
HiseyesmetMrBloom'seyes.Hecaressedhisbeard,adding:
Well,nearlyallofus.
MrBloombegantospeakwithsuddeneagernesstohiscompanions'faces.
That'sanawfullygoodonethat'sgoingtheroundsaboutReubenJandtheson.
Abouttheboatman?MrPowerasked.
Yes.Isn'titawfullygood?
Whatisthat?MrDedalusasked.Ididn'thearit.

Therewasagirlinthecase,MrBloombegan,andhedeterminedtosendhimtotheIsle
ofManoutofharm'swaybutwhentheywereboth...
What?MrDedalusasked.Thatconfirmedbloodyhobbledehoyisit?
Yes,MrBloomsaid.Theywerebothonthewaytotheboatandhetriedtodrown...
DrownBarabbas!MrDedaluscried.IwishtoChristhedid!
MrPowersentalonglaughdownhisshadednostrils.
No,MrBloomsaid,thesonhimself...
MartinCunninghamthwartedhisspeechrudely:
ReubenandthesonwerepikingitdownthequaynexttheriverontheirwaytotheIsle
ofManboatandtheyoungchisellersuddenlygotlooseandoverthewallwithhimintothe
Liffey.
ForGod'ssake!MrDedalusexclaimedinfright.Ishedead?
Dead!MartinCunninghamcried.Nothe!Aboatmangotapoleandfishedhimoutby
theslackofthebreechesandhewaslandeduptothefatheronthequaymoredeadthanalive.
Halfthetownwasthere.
Yes,MrBloomsaid.Butthefunnypartis...
AndReubenJ,MartinCunninghamsaid,gavetheboatmanaflorinforsavinghisson's
life.
AstifledsighcamefromunderMrPower'shand.
O,hedid,MartinCunninghamaffirmed.Likeahero.Asilverflorin.
Isn'titawfullygood?MrBloomsaideagerly.
Oneandeightpencetoomuch,MrDedalussaiddrily.
MrPower'schokedlaughburstquietlyinthecarriage.
Nelson'spillar.
Eightplumsapenny!Eightforapenny!
Wehadbetterlookalittleserious,MartinCunninghamsaid.
MrDedalussighed.
Ahthenindeed,hesaid,poorlittlePaddywouldn'tgrudgeusalaugh.Manyagoodone
hetoldhimself.
TheLordforgiveme!MrPowersaid,wipinghisweteyeswithhisfingers.PoorPaddy!I
littlethoughtaweekagowhenIsawhimlastandhewasinhisusualhealththatI'dbedriving
afterhimlikethis.He'sgonefromus.
Asdecentalittlemanaseverworeahat,MrDedalussaid.Hewentverysuddenly.
Breakdown,MartinCunninghamsaid.Heart.
Hetappedhischestsadly.
Blazingface:redhot.ToomuchJohnBarleycorn.Cureforarednose.Drinklikethedevil
tillitturnsadelite.Alotofmoneyhespentcolouringit.
MrPowergazedatthepassinghouseswithruefulapprehension.
Hehadasuddendeath,poorfellow,hesaid.
Thebestdeath,MrBloomsaid.
Theirwideopeneyeslookedathim.
Nosuffering,hesaid.Amomentandallisover.Likedyinginsleep.
Noonespoke.
Deadsideofthestreetthis.Dullbusinessbyday,landagents,temperancehotel,Falconer's
railway guide, civil service college, Gill's, catholic club, the industrious blind. Why? Some
reason. Sun or wind. At night too. Chummies and slaveys. Under the patronage of the late
FatherMathew.FoundationstoneforParnell.Breakdown.Heart.

WhitehorseswithwhitefrontletplumescameroundtheRotundacorner,galloping.Atiny
coffinflashedby.Inahurrytobury.Amourningcoach.Unmarried.Blackforthemarried.
Piebaldforbachelors.Dunforanun.
Sad,MartinCunninghamsaid.Achild.
Adwarf'sface,mauveandwrinkledlikelittleRudy'swas.Dwarf'sbody,weakasputty,in
awhitelineddealbox.Burialfriendlysocietypays.Pennyaweekforasodofturf.Our.Little.
Beggar. Baby. Meant nothing. Mistake of nature. If it's healthy it's from the mother. If not
fromtheman.Betterlucknexttime.
Poorlittlething,MrDedalussaid.It'swelloutofit.
The carriage climbed more slowly the hill of Rutland square. Rattle his bones. Over the
stones.Onlyapauper.Nobodyowns.
Inthemidstoflife,MartinCunninghamsaid.
Buttheworstofall,MrPowersaid,isthemanwhotakeshisownlife.
MartinCunninghamdrewouthiswatchbriskly,coughedandputitback.
Thegreatestdisgracetohaveinthefamily,MrPoweradded.
Temporary insanity, of course, Martin Cunningham said decisively. We must take a
charitableviewofit.
Theysayamanwhodoesitisacoward,MrDedalussaid.
Itisnotforustojudge,MartinCunninghamsaid.
MrBloom,abouttospeak,closedhislipsagain.MartinCunningham'slargeeyes.Looking
awaynow.Sympathetichumanmanheis.Intelligent.LikeShakespeare'sface.Alwaysagood
word to say. They have no mercy on that here or infanticide. Refuse christian burial. They
usedtodriveastakeofwoodthroughhisheartinthegrave.Asifitwasn'tbrokenalready.
Yetsometimestheyrepenttoolate.Foundintheriverbedclutchingrushes.Helookedatme.
Andthatawfuldrunkardofawifeofhis.Settingup house for her time after time and then
pawning the furniture on him every Saturday almost. Leading him the life of the damned.
Wear the heart out of a stone, that. Monday morning. Start afresh. Shoulder to the wheel.
Lord,shemusthavelookedasightthatnightDedalustoldmehewasinthere.Drunkabout
theplaceandcaperingwithMartin'sumbrella.
AndtheycallmethejewelofAsia,
OfAsia,
TheGeisha.

Helookedawayfromme.Heknows.Rattlehisbones.
That afternoon of the inquest. The redlabelled bottle on the table. The room in the hotel
with hunting pictures. Stuffy it was. Sunlight through the slats of the Venetian blind. The
coroner'ssunlitears,bigandhairy.Bootsgivingevidence.Thoughthewasasleepfirst.Then
saw like yellow streaks on his face. Had slipped down to the foot of the bed. Verdict:
overdose.Deathbymisadventure.Theletter.FormysonLeopold.
Nomorepain.Wakenomore.Nobodyowns.
ThecarriagerattledswiftlyalongBlessingtonstreet.Overthestones.
Wearegoingthepace,Ithink,MartinCunninghamsaid.
Godgranthedoesn'tupsetusontheroad,MrPowersaid.
I hope not, Martin Cunningham said. That will be a great race tomorrow in Germany.
TheGordonBennett.
Yes,byJove,MrDedalussaid.Thatwillbeworthseeing,faith.
AstheyturnedintoBerkeleystreetastreetorganneartheBasinsentoverandafterthema
rollicking rattling song of the halls. Has anybody here seen Kelly? Kay ee double ell wy.
DeadMarchfromSaul.He'sasbadasoldAntonio.Heleftmeonmyownio.Pirouette!The
Mater Misericordiae. Eccles street. My house down there. Big place. Ward for incurables

there. Very encouraging. Our Lady's Hospice for the dying. Deadhouse handy underneath.
WhereoldMrsRiordandied.Theylookterriblethewomen.Herfeedingcupandrubbingher
mouthwiththespoon.Thenthescreenroundherbedforhertodie.Niceyoungstudentthat
wasdressedthatbitethebeegaveme.He'sgoneovertothelyinginhospitaltheytoldme.
Fromoneextremetotheother.Thecarriagegallopedroundacorner:stopped.
What'swrongnow?
A divided drove of branded cattle passed the windows, lowing, slouching by on padded
hoofs, whisking their tails slowly on their clotted bony croups. Outside them and through
themranraddledsheepbleatingtheirfear.
Emigrants,MrPowersaid.
Huuuh!thedrover'svoicecried,hisswitchsoundingontheirflanks.
Huuuh!outofthat!
Thursday, of course. Tomorrow is killing day. Springers. Cuffe sold them about
twentysevenquideach.ForLiverpoolprobably.RoastbeefforoldEngland.Theybuyupall
thejuicyones.Andthenthefifthquarterlost:allthatrawstuff,hide,hair,horns.Comestoa
bigthinginayear.Deadmeattrade.Byproductsoftheslaughterhousesfortanneries,soap,
margarine.WonderifthatdodgeworksnowgettingdickymeatoffthetrainatClonsilla.
Thecarriagemovedonthroughthedrove.
I can't make out why the corporation doesn't run a tramline from the parkgate to the
quays,MrBloomsaid.Allthoseanimalscouldbetakenintrucksdowntotheboats.
Instead of blocking up the thoroughfare, Martin Cunningham said. Quite right. They
oughtto.
Yes, Mr Bloom said, and another thing I often thought, is to have municipal funeral
trams like they have in Milan, you know. Run the line out to the cemetery gates and have
specialtrams,hearseandcarriageandall.Don'tyouseewhatImean?
O,thatbedamnedforastory,MrDedalussaid.Pullmancarandsaloondiningroom.
ApoorlookoutforCorny,MrPoweradded.
Why? Mr Bloom asked, turning to Mr Dedalus. Wouldn't it be more decent than
gallopingtwoabreast?
Well,there'ssomethinginthat,MrDedalusgranted.
And, Martin Cunningham said, we wouldn't have scenes like that when the hearse
capsizedroundDunphy'sandupsetthecoffinontotheroad.
That was terrible, Mr Power's shocked face said, and the corpse fell about the road.
Terrible!
FirstroundDunphy's,MrDedalussaid,nodding.GordonBennettcup.
PraisesbetoGod!MartinCunninghamsaidpiously.
Bom!Upset.Acoffinbumpedoutontotheroad.Burstopen.PaddyDignamshotoutand
rollingoverstiffinthedustinabrownhabittoolargeforhim. Red face: grey now.Mouth
fallenopen.Askingwhat'supnow.Quiterighttocloseit.Lookshorridopen.Thentheinsides
decompose quickly. Much better to close up all the orifices. Yes, also. With wax. The
sphincterloose.Sealupall.
Dunphy's,MrPowerannouncedasthecarriageturnedright.
Dunphy's corner. Mourning coaches drawn up, drowning their grief. A pause by the
wayside. Tiptop position for a pub. Expect we'll pull up here on the way back to drink his
health.Passroundtheconsolation.Elixiroflife.
Butsupposenowitdidhappen.Wouldhebleedifanailsaycuthimintheknockingabout?
He would and he wouldn't, I suppose. Depends on where. The circulation stops. Still some
mightoozeoutofanartery.Itwouldbebettertoburytheminred:adarkred.
InsilencetheydrovealongPhibsboroughroad.Anemptyhearsetrottedby,comingfrom

thecemetery:looksrelieved.
Crossgunsbridge:theroyalcanal.
Water rushed roaring through the sluices. A man stood on his dropping barge, between
clampsofturf.Onthetowpathbythelockaslacktetheredhorse.AboardoftheBugabu.
Theireyeswatchedhim.Ontheslowweedywaterwayhehadfloatedonhisraftcoastward
over Ireland drawn by a haulage rope past beds of reeds, over slime, mudchoked bottles,
carriondogs.Athlone,Mullingar,Moyvalley,IcouldmakeawalkingtourtoseeMillybythe
canal.Orcycledown.Hiresomeoldcrock,safety.Wrenhadonetheotherdayattheauction
butalady's.Developingwaterways.JamesM'Cann'shobbytorowmeo'ertheferry.Cheaper
transit.Byeasystages.Houseboats.Campingout.Alsohearses.Toheavenbywater.Perhaps
Iwillwithoutwriting.Comeasasurprise,Leixlip,Clonsilla.Droppingdownlockbylockto
Dublin.Withturffromthemidlandbogs.Salute.Heliftedhisbrownstrawhat,salutingPaddy
Dignam.
TheydroveonpastBrianBoroimhehouse.Nearitnow.
IwonderhowisourfriendFogartygettingon,MrPowersaid.
BetteraskTomKernan,MrDedalussaid.
Howisthat?MartinCunninghamsaid.Lefthimweeping,Isuppose?
Thoughlosttosight,MrDedalussaid,tomemorydear.
ThecarriagesteeredleftforFinglasroad.
The stonecutter's yard on the right. Last lap. Crowded on the spit of land silent shapes
appeared, white, sorrowful, holding out calm hands, knelt in grief, pointing. Fragments of
shapes, hewn. In white silence: appealing. The best obtainable. Thos. H. Dennany,
monumentalbuilderandsculptor.
Passed.
OnthecurbstonebeforeJimmyGeary,thesexton's,anoldtrampsat,grumbling,emptying
thedirtandstonesoutofhishugedustbrownyawningboot.Afterlife'sjourney.
Gloomygardensthenwentby:onebyone:gloomyhouses.
MrPowerpointed.
ThatiswhereChildswasmurdered,hesaid.Thelasthouse.
Soitis,MrDedalussaid.Agruesomecase.SeymourBushegothimoff.Murderedhis
brother.Orsotheysaid.
Thecrownhadnoevidence,MrPowersaid.
Onlycircumstantial,MartinCunninghamadded.That'sthemaximofthelaw.Betterfor
ninetynineguiltytoescapethanforoneinnocentpersontobewrongfullycondemned.
Theylooked.Murderer'sground.Itpasseddarkly.Shuttered,tenantless,unweededgarden.
Wholeplacegonetohell.Wrongfullycondemned.Murder.Themurderer'simageintheeye
of the murdered. They love reading about it. Man's head found in a garden. Her clothing
consistedof.Howshemetherdeath.Recentoutrage.Theweaponused.Murdererisstillat
large.Clues.Ashoelace.Thebodytobeexhumed.Murderwillout.
Crampedinthiscarriage.Shemightn'tlikemetocomethatwaywithoutlettingherknow.
Must be careful about women. Catch them once with their pants down. Never forgive you
after.Fifteen.
ThehighrailingsofProspectrippledpasttheirgaze.Darkpoplars,rarewhiteforms.Forms
morefrequent,whiteshapesthrongedamidthetrees,whiteformsandfragmentsstreamingby
mutely,sustainingvaingesturesontheair.
Thefellyharshedagainstthecurbstone:stopped.MartinCunninghamputouthisarmand,
wrenchingbackthehandle,shovedthedooropenwithhisknee.Hesteppedout.MrPower
andMrDedalusfollowed.
Changethatsoapnow.MrBloom'shandunbuttonedhishippocketswiftlyandtransferred

thepaperstucksoaptohisinnerhandkerchiefpocket.Hesteppedoutofthecarriage,replacing
thenewspaperhisotherhandstillheld.
Paltryfuneral:coachandthreecarriages.It'sallthesame.Pallbearers,goldreins,requiem
mass,firingavolley.Pompofdeath.Beyondthehindcarriageahawkerstoodbyhisbarrow
of cakes and fruit. Simnel cakes those are, stuck together: cakes for the dead. Dogbiscuits.
Whoatethem?Mournerscomingout.
Hefollowedhiscompanions.MrKernanandNedLambertfollowed,Hyneswalkingafter
them.CornyKelleherstoodbytheopenedhearseandtookoutthetwowreaths.Hehanded
onetotheboy.
Whereisthatchild'sfuneraldisappearedto?
A team of horses passed from Finglas with toiling plodding tread, dragging through the
funerealsilenceacreakingwaggononwhichlayagraniteblock.Thewaggonermarchingat
theirheadsaluted.
Coffin now. Got here before us, dead as he is. Horse looking round at it with his plume
skeowways. Dull eye: collar tight on his neck, pressing on a bloodvessel or something. Do
they know what they cart out here every day? Must be twenty or thirty funerals every day.
ThenMountJeromefortheprotestants.Funeralsallovertheworldeverywhereeveryminute.
Shovellingthemunderbythecartloaddoublequick.Thousandseveryhour.Toomanyinthe
world.
Mournerscameoutthroughthegates:womanandagirl.Leanjawedharpy,hardwomanat
abargain,herbonnetawry.Girl'sfacestainedwithdirtandtears,holdingthewoman'sarm,
lookingupatherforasigntocry.Fish'sface,bloodlessandlivid.
Themutesshoulderedthecoffinandboreitinthroughthegates.Somuchdeadweight.Felt
heavier myself stepping out of that bath. First the stiff: then the friends of the stiff. Corny
Kelleherandtheboyfollowedwiththeirwreaths.Whoisthatbesidethem?Ah,thebrother
inlaw.
Allwalkedafter.
MartinCunninghamwhispered:
IwasinmortalagonywithyoutalkingofsuicidebeforeBloom.
What?MrPowerwhispered.Howso?
His father poisoned himself, Martin Cunningham whispered. Had the Queen's hotel in
Ennis.YouheardhimsayhewasgoingtoClare.Anniversary.
OGod!MrPowerwhispered.FirstIheardofit.Poisonedhimself?
He glanced behind him to where a face with dark thinking eyes followed towards the
cardinal'smausoleum.Speaking.
Washeinsured?MrBloomasked.
I believe so, Mr Kernan answered. But the policy was heavily mortgaged. Martin is
tryingtogettheyoungsterintoArtane.
Howmanychildrendidheleave?
Five.NedLambertsayshe'lltrytogetoneofthegirlsintoTodd's.
Asadcase,MrBloomsaidgently.Fiveyoungchildren.
Agreatblowtothepoorwife,MrKernanadded.
Indeedyes,MrBloomagreed.
Hasthelaughathimnow.
Helookeddownatthebootshehadblackedandpolished.Shehadoutlivedhim.Losther
husband.Moredeadforherthanforme.Onemustoutlivetheother.Wisemensay.Thereare
morewomenthanmenintheworld.Condolewithher.Yourterribleloss.Ihopeyou'llsoon
follow him. For Hindu widows only. She would marry another. Him? No. Yet who knows
after.Widowhood not the thing since the old queen died. Drawn on a guncarriage. Victoria

andAlbert.Frogmorememorialmourning.Butintheendsheputafewvioletsinherbonnet.
Vain in her heart of hearts. All for a shadow. Consort not even a king. Her son was the
substance. Something new to hope for not like the past she wanted back, waiting. It never
comes.Onemustgofirst:alone,undertheground:andlienomoreinherwarmbed.
Howareyou,Simon?NedLambertsaidsoftly,claspinghands.Haven'tseenyoufora
monthofSundays.
Neverbetter.HowareallinCork'sowntown?
IwasdowntherefortheCorkparkracesonEasterMonday,NedLambertsaid.Sameold
sixandeightpence.StoppedwithDickTivy.
AndhowisDick,thesolidman?
Nothingbetweenhimselfandheaven,NedLambertanswered.
BytheholyPaul!MrDedalussaidinsubduedwonder.DickTivybald?
Martinisgoingtogetupawhipfortheyoungsters,NedLambertsaid,pointingahead.A
fewbobaskull.Justtokeepthemgoingtilltheinsuranceisclearedup.
Yes,yes,MrDedalussaiddubiously.Isthattheeldestboyinfront?
Yes, Ned Lambert said, with the wife's brother. John Henry Menton is behind. He put
downhisnameforaquid.
I'llengagehedid,MrDedalussaid.IoftentoldpoorPaddyheoughttomindthatjob.
JohnHenryisnottheworstintheworld.
Howdidheloseit?NedLambertasked.Liquor,what?
Manyagoodman'sfault,MrDedalussaidwithasigh.
Theyhaltedaboutthedoorofthemortuarychapel.MrBloomstoodbehindtheboywith
thewreathlookingdownathissleekcombedhairandattheslenderfurrowedneckinsidehis
brandnewcollar.Poorboy!Washetherewhenthefather?Bothunconscious.Lightenupat
thelastmomentandrecogniseforthelasttime.Allhemighthavedone.Iowethreeshillings
toO'Grady.Wouldheunderstand?Themutesborethecoffinintothechapel.Whichendishis
head?
Afteramomenthefollowedtheothersin,blinkinginthescreenedlight.Thecoffinlayon
itsbierbeforethechancel,fourtallyellowcandlesatitscorners.Alwaysinfrontofus.Corny
Kelleher, laying a wreath at each fore corner, beckoned to the boy to kneel. The mourners
knelthereandthereinprayingdesks.MrBloomstoodbehindnearthefontand,whenallhad
knelt,droppedcarefullyhisunfoldednewspaperfromhispocketandknelthisrightkneeupon
it.Hefittedhisblackhatgentlyonhisleftkneeand,holdingitsbrim,bentoverpiously.
A server bearing a brass bucket with something in it came out through a door. The
whitesmockedpriestcameafterhim,tidyinghisstolewithonehand,balancingwiththeother
alittlebookagainsthistoad'sbelly.Who'llreadthebook?I,saidtherook.
Theyhaltedbythebierandthepriestbegantoreadoutofhisbookwithafluentcroak.
FatherCoffey.Iknewhisnamewaslikeacoffin.Dominenamine.Bullyaboutthemuzzle
helooks.Bossestheshow.Muscularchristian.Woebetideanyonethatlookscrookedathim:
priest.ThouartPeter.BurstsidewayslikeasheepincloverDedalussayshewill.Withabelly
onhimlikeapoisonedpup.Mostamusingexpressionsthatmanfinds.Hhhn:burstsideways.
Nonintresinjudiciumcumservotuo,Domine.
MakesthemfeelmoreimportanttobeprayedoverinLatin.Requiemmass.Crapeweepers.
Blackedgednotepaper.Yournameonthealtarlist.Chillyplacethis.Wanttofeedwell,sitting
inthereallthemorninginthegloomkickinghisheelswaitingforthenextplease.Eyesofa
toadtoo.What swells him up that way? Molly gets swelled after cabbage. Air of the place
maybe.Looksfullupofbadgas.Mustbeaninfernallotofbadgasroundtheplace.Butchers,
forinstance:theygetlikerawbeefsteaks.Whowastellingme?MervynBrowne.Downinthe
vaultsofsaintWerburgh'slovelyoldorganhundredandfiftytheyhavetoboreaholeinthe
coffinssometimestoletoutthebadgasandburnit.Outitrushes:blue.Onewhiffofthatand

you'reagoner.
Mykneecapishurtingme.Ow.That'sbetter.
Thepriesttookastickwithaknobattheendofitoutoftheboy'sbucketandshookitover
thecoffin.Thenhewalkedtotheotherendandshookitagain.Thenhecamebackandputit
backinthebucket.Asyouwerebeforeyourested.It'sallwrittendown:hehastodoit.
Etnenosinducasintentationem.
Theserverpipedtheanswersinthetreble.Ioftenthoughtitwouldbebettertohaveboy
servants.Uptofifteenorso.Afterthat,ofcourse...
Holy water that was, I expect. Shaking sleep out of it. He must be fed up with that job,
shakingthatthingoverallthecorpsestheytrotup.Whatharmifhecouldseewhathewas
shaking it over. Every mortal day a fresh batch: middleaged men, old women, children,
womendeadinchildbirth,menwithbeards,baldheadedbusinessmen,consumptivegirlswith
littlesparrows'breasts.Alltheyearroundheprayedthesamethingoverthemallandshook
waterontopofthem:sleep.OnDignamnow.
Inparadisum.
Saidhewasgoingtoparadiseorisinparadise.Saysthatovereverybody.Tiresomekindof
ajob.Buthehastosaysomething.
Thepriestclosedhisbookandwentoff,followedbytheserver.CornyKelleheropenedthe
sidedoorsandthegravediggerscamein,hoistedthecoffinagain,carrieditoutandshovedit
ontheircart.CornyKellehergave one wreath to the boy and one to the brotherinlaw. All
followedthem out of the sidedoors into the mild grey air. Mr Bloom came last folding his
paperagainintohispocket.Hegazedgravelyatthegroundtillthecoffincartwheeledoffto
theleft.Themetalwheelsgroundthegravel with a sharp grating cry and the pack of blunt
bootsfollowedthetrundledbarrowalongalaneofsepulchres.
Thereetherathereetheratheroo.Lord,Imustn'tlilthere.
TheO'Connellcircle,MrDedalussaidabouthim.
MrPower'ssofteyeswentuptotheapexoftheloftycone.
He'satrest,hesaid,inthemiddleofhispeople,oldDanO'.Buthisheartisburiedin
Rome.Howmanybrokenheartsareburiedhere,Simon!
Hergraveisoverthere,Jack,MrDedalussaid.I'llsoonbestretchedbesideher.LetHim
takemewheneverHelikes.
Breaking down, he began to weep to himself quietly, stumbling a little in his walk. Mr
Powertookhisarm.
She'sbetterwheresheis,hesaidkindly.
Isupposeso,MrDedalussaidwithaweakgasp.Isupposesheisinheavenifthereisa
heaven.
CornyKellehersteppedasidefromhisrankandallowedthemournerstoplodby.
Sadoccasions,MrKernanbeganpolitely.
MrBloomclosedhiseyesandsadlytwicebowedhishead.
Theothersareputtingontheirhats,MrKernansaid.Isupposewecandosotoo.Weare
thelast.Thiscemeteryisatreacherousplace.
Theycoveredtheirheads.
Thereverend gentleman read the servicetoo quickly,don't youthink? Mr Kernan said
withreproof.
Mr Bloom nodded gravely looking in the quick bloodshot eyes. Secret eyes,
secretsearching.Mason,Ithink:notsure.Besidehimagain.Wearethelast.Inthesameboat.
Hopehe'llsaysomethingelse.
MrKernanadded:

TheserviceoftheIrishchurchusedinMountJeromeissimpler,moreimpressiveImust
say.
MrBloomgaveprudentassent.Thelanguageofcoursewasanotherthing.
MrKernansaidwithsolemnity:
Iamtheresurrectionandthelife.Thattouchesaman'sinmostheart.
Itdoes,MrBloomsaid.
Your heart perhaps but what price the fellow in the six feet by two with his toes to the
daisies? No touching that. Seat of the affections. Broken heart. A pump after all, pumping
thousandsofgallonsofbloodeveryday.Onefinedayitgetsbungedup:andthereyouare.
Lotsofthemlyingaroundhere:lungs,hearts,livers.Oldrustypumps:damnthethingelse.
Theresurrectionandthelife.Onceyouaredeadyouaredead.Thatlastdayidea.Knocking
themallupoutoftheirgraves.Comeforth,Lazarus!Andhecamefifthandlostthejob.Get
up!Lastday!Theneveryfellowmousingaroundforhisliverandhislightsandtherestofhis
traps. Find damn all of himself that morning. Pennyweight of powder in a skull. Twelve
grammesonepennyweight.Troymeasure.
CornyKelleherfellintostepattheirside.
EverythingwentoffA1,hesaid.What?
He looked on them from his drawling eye. Policeman's shoulders. With your tooraloom
tooraloom.
Asitshouldbe,MrKernansaid.
What?Eh?CornyKellehersaid.
MrKernanassuredhim.
WhoisthatchapbehindwithTomKernan?JohnHenryMentonasked.Iknowhisface.
NedLambertglancedback.
Bloom, he said, Madame Marion Tweedy that was, is, I mean, the soprano. She's his
wife.
O, to be sure, John Henry Menton said. I haven't seen her for some time. He was a
finelooking woman. I danced with her, wait, fifteen seventeen golden years ago, at Mat
Dillon'sinRoundtown.Andagoodarmfulshewas.
Helookedbehindthroughtheothers.
Whatishe?heasked.Whatdoeshedo?Wasn'theinthestationeryline?Ifellfoulof
himoneevening,Iremember,atbowls.
NedLambertsmiled.
Yes,hewas,hesaid,inWisdomHely's.Atravellerforblottingpaper.
InGod'sname,JohnHenryMentonsaid,whatdidshemarryacoonlike that for? She
hadplentyofgameinherthen.
Hasstill,NedLambertsaid.Hedoessomecanvassingforads.
JohnHenryMenton'slargeeyesstaredahead.
Thebarrowturnedintoasidelane.Aportlyman,ambushedamongthegrasses,raisedhis
hatinhomage.Thegravediggerstouchedtheircaps.
JohnO'Connell,MrPowersaidpleased.Heneverforgetsafriend.
MrO'Connellshookalltheirhandsinsilence.MrDedalussaid:
Iamcometopayyouanothervisit.
MydearSimon,thecaretakeransweredinalowvoice.Idon'twantyourcustomatall.
SalutingNedLambertandJohnHenryMentonhewalkedonatMartinCunningham'sside
puzzlingtwolongkeysathisback.
Didyouhearthatone,heaskedthem,aboutMulcahyfromtheCoombe?

Ididnot,MartinCunninghamsaid.
They bent their silk hats in concert and Hynes inclined his ear. The caretaker hung his
thumbsintheloopsofhisgoldwatchchainandspokeinadiscreettonetotheirvacantsmiles.
Theytellthestory,hesaid,thattwodrunkscameouthereonefoggyeveningtolookfor
thegraveofafriendoftheirs.TheyaskedforMulcahyfromtheCoombeandweretoldwhere
hewasburied.Aftertraipsingaboutinthefogtheyfoundthegravesureenough.Oneofthe
drunksspeltoutthename:TerenceMulcahy.Theotherdrunkwasblinkingupatastatueof
OurSaviourthewidowhadgotputup.
Thecaretakerblinkedupatoneofthesepulchrestheypassed.Heresumed:
And,afterblinkingupatthesacredfigure,Notabloodybitliketheman,sayshe.That's
notMulcahy,sayshe,whoeverdoneit.
Rewarded by smiles he fell back and spoke with Corny Kelleher, accepting the dockets
givenhim,turningthemoverandscanningthemashewalked.
That'salldonewithapurpose,MartinCunninghamexplainedtoHynes.
Iknow,Hynessaid.Iknowthat.
To cheer a fellow up, Martin Cunningham said. It's pure goodheartedness: damn the
thingelse.
MrBloomadmiredthecaretaker'sprosperousbulk.Allwanttobeongoodtermswithhim.
Decent fellow, John O'Connell, real good sort. Keys: like Keyes's ad: no fear of anyone
gettingout.Nopassoutchecks.Habeascorpus.Imustseeaboutthatadafterthefuneral.Did
IwriteBallsbridgeontheenvelopeItooktocoverwhenshedisturbedmewritingtoMartha?
Hopeit'snotchuckedinthedeadletteroffice.Bethebetterofashave.Greysproutingbeard.
That'sthefirstsignwhenthehairscome out grey. And temper getting cross. Silver threads
amongthegrey.Fancybeinghiswife.Wonderhehadthegumptiontoproposetoanygirl.
Comeoutandliveinthegraveyard.Danglethatbeforeher.Itmightthrillherfirst.Courting
death...Shadesofnighthoveringherewithallthedeadstretchedabout.Theshadowsofthe
tombswhenchurchyardsyawnandDanielO'ConnellmustbeadescendantIsupposewhois
thisusedtosayhewasaqueerbreedymangreatcatholicallthesamelikeabiggiantinthe
dark.Willo'thewisp.Gasofgraves.Wanttokeephermindoffittoconceiveatall.Women
especiallyaresotouchy.Tellheraghoststoryinbedtomakehersleep.Haveyoueverseena
ghost? Well, I have. It was a pitchdark night. The clock was on the stroke of twelve. Still
they'd kiss all right if properly keyed up. Whores in Turkish graveyards. Learn anything if
taken young. You might pick up a young widow here. Men like that. Love among the
tombstones.Romeo.Spiceofpleasure.Inthemidstofdeathweareinlife.Bothendsmeet.
Tantalisingforthepoordead.Smellofgrilledbeefsteakstothestarving.Gnawingtheirvitals.
Desiretogrigpeople.Mollywantingtodoitatthewindow.Eightchildrenhehasanyway.
Hehasseenafairsharegounderinhistime,lyingaroundhimfieldafterfield.Holyfields.
Moreroomiftheyburiedthemstanding.Sittingorkneelingyoucouldn't.Standing?Hishead
mightcomeupsomedayabovegroundinalandslipwithhishandpointing.Allhoneycombed
thegroundmustbe:oblongcells.Andveryneathekeepsittoo:trimgrassandedgings.His
garden Major Gamble calls Mount Jerome. Well, so it is. Ought to be flowers of sleep.
ChinesecemeterieswithgiantpoppiesgrowingproducethebestopiumMastianskytoldme.
The Botanic Gardens are just over there. It's the blood sinking in the earth gives new life.
Sameideathosejewstheysaidkilledthechristianboy.Everymanhisprice.Wellpreserved
fatcorpse,gentleman,epicure,invaluableforfruitgarden.Abargain.BycarcassofWilliam
Wilkinson, auditor and accountant, lately deceased, three pounds thirteen and six. With
thanks.
Idaresaythesoilwouldbequitefatwithcorpsemanure,bones,flesh,nails.Charnelhouses.
Dreadful.Turninggreenandpinkdecomposing.Rotquickindampearth.Theleanoldones
tougher. Then a kind of a tallowy kind of a cheesy. Then begin to get black, black treacle
oozingoutofthem.Thendriedup.Deathmoths.Ofcoursethecellsorwhatevertheyarego
onliving.Changingabout.Liveforeverpractically.Nothingtofeedonfeedonthemselves.

Buttheymustbreedadevilofalotofmaggots.Soilmustbesimplyswirlingwiththem.
Yourheaditsimplyswurls.Thoseprettylittleseasidegurls.Helookscheerfulenoughoverit.
Giveshimasenseofpowerseeingalltheothersgounderfirst.Wonderhowhelooksatlife.
Crackinghisjokestoo:warmsthecocklesofhisheart.Theoneaboutthebulletin.Spurgeon
wenttoheaven4a.m.thismorning.11p.m.(closingtime).Notarrivedyet.Peter.Thedead
themselvesthemenanyhowwouldliketohearanoddjokeorthewomentoknowwhat'sin
fashion.Ajuicypearorladies'punch,hot,strongandsweet.Keepoutthedamp.Youmust
laugh sometimes so better do it that way. Gravediggers in Hamlet. Shows the profound
knowledgeofthehumanheart.Daren'tjokeaboutthedeadfortwoyearsatleast.Demortuis
nilnisiprius.Gooutofmourningfirst.Hardtoimaginehisfuneral.Seemsasortofajoke.
Readyourownobituarynoticetheysayyoulivelonger.Givesyousecondwind.Newleaseof
life.
Howmanyhaveyoufortomorrow?thecaretakerasked.
Two,CornyKellehersaid.Halftenandeleven.
Thecaretakerputthepapersinhispocket.Thebarrowhadceasedtotrundle.Themourners
split and moved to each side of the hole, stepping with care round the graves. The
gravediggersborethecoffinandsetitsnoseonthebrink,loopingthebandsroundit.
Buryinghim.WecometoburyCaesar.HisidesofMarchorJune.Hedoesn'tknowwhois
herenorcare.Nowwhoisthatlankylookinggalootoverthereinthemacintosh?Nowwhois
heI'dliketoknow?NowI'dgiveatrifletoknowwhoheis.Alwayssomeoneturnsupyou
neverdreamtof.Afellowcouldliveonhislonesomeallhislife.Yes,hecould.Stillhe'dhave
togetsomeonetosodhimafterhediedthoughhecoulddighisowngrave.Wealldo.Only
man buries. No, ants too. First thing strikes anybody. Bury the dead. Say Robinson Crusoe
wastruetolife.WellthenFridayburiedhim.EveryFridayburiesaThursdayifyoucometo
lookatit.
O,poorRobinsonCrusoe!
Howcouldyoupossiblydoso?

PoorDignam!Hislastlieontheearthinhisbox.Whenyouthinkofthemallitdoesseema
wasteofwood.Allgnawedthrough.Theycouldinventahandsomebierwithakindofpanel
sliding,letitdownthatway.Aybuttheymightobjecttobeburiedoutofanotherfellow's.
They're so particular. Lay me in my native earth. Bit of clay from the holy land. Only a
motheranddeadbornchildeverburiedintheonecoffin.Iseewhatitmeans.Isee.Toprotect
himaslongaspossibleevenintheearth.TheIrishman'shouseishiscoffin.Embalmingin
catacombs,mummiesthesameidea.
Mr Bloom stood far back, his hat in his hand, counting the bared heads. Twelve. I'm
thirteen.No.Thechapinthemacintoshisthirteen.Death'snumber.Wherethedeucedidhe
popoutof?Hewasn'tinthechapel,thatI'llswear.Sillysuperstitionthataboutthirteen.
NicesofttweedNedLamberthasinthatsuit.Tingeofpurple.Ihadonelikethatwhenwe
lived in Lombard street west. Dressy fellow he was once. Used to change three suits in the
day.MustgetthatgreysuitofmineturnedbyMesias.Hello.It'sdyed.HiswifeIforgothe's
notmarriedorhislandladyoughttohavepickedoutthosethreadsforhim.
Thecoffindivedoutofsight,easeddownbythemenstraddledonthegravetrestles.They
struggledupandout:andalluncovered.Twenty.
Pause.
Ifwewereallsuddenlysomebodyelse.
Farawayadonkeybrayed.Rain.Nosuchass.Neverseeadeadone,theysay.Shameof
death.Theyhide.Alsopoorpapawentaway.
Gentle sweet air blew round the bared heads in a whisper. Whisper. The boy by the
graveheadheldhiswreathwithbothhandsstaringquietlyintheblackopenspace.MrBloom
moved behind the portly kindly caretaker. Wellcut frockcoat. Weighing them up perhaps to

seewhichwillgonext.Well,itisalongrest.Feelnomore.It'sthemomentyoufeel.Mustbe
damned unpleasant. Can't believe it at first. Mistake must be: someone else. Try the house
opposite. Wait, I wanted to. I haven't yet. Then darkened deathchamber. Light they want.
Whispering around you. Would you like to see a priest? Then rambling and wandering.
Deliriumallyouhidallyourlife.Thedeathstruggle.Hissleepisnotnatural.Presshislower
eyelid.Watchingishisnosepointedishisjawsinkingarethesolesofhisfeetyellow.Pullthe
pillowawayandfinishitoffonthefloorsincehe'sdoomed.Devilinthatpictureofsinner's
death showing him a woman. Dying to embrace her in his shirt. Last act of Lucia. Shall i
nevermorebeholdthee? Bam! He expires. Gone at last. People talk about you a bit: forget
you.Don'tforgettoprayforhim.Rememberhiminyourprayers.EvenParnell.Ivydaydying
out.Thentheyfollow:droppingintoahole,oneaftertheother.
We are praying now for the repose of his soul. Hoping you're well and not inhell.Nice
changeofair.Outofthefryingpanoflifeintothefireofpurgatory.
Doesheeverthinkoftheholewaitingforhimself?Theysayyoudowhenyoushiverinthe
sun.Someonewalkingoverit.Callboy'swarning.Nearyou.MineovertheretowardsFinglas,
theplotIbought.Mamma,poormamma,andlittleRudy.
Thegravediggerstookuptheirspadesandflungheavyclodsofclayinonthecoffin.Mr
Bloomturnedawayhisface.Andifhewasaliveallthetime?Whew!Byjingo,thatwouldbe
awful!No,no:heisdead,ofcourse.Of course he isdead. Mondayhedied.Theyoughtto
have some law to pierce the heart and make sure or an electric clock or a telephone in the
coffin and some kind of a canvas airhole. Flag of distress. Three days. Rather long to keep
theminsummer.Justaswelltogetshutofthemassoonasyouaresurethere'sno.
Theclayfellsofter.Begintobeforgotten.Outofsight,outofmind.
Thecaretakermovedawayafewpacesandputonhishat.Hadenoughofit.Themourners
tookheartofgrace,onebyone,coveringthemselveswithoutshow.MrBloomputonhishat
andsawtheportlyfiguremakeitswaydeftlythroughthemazeofgraves.Quietly,sureofhis
ground,hetraversedthedismalfields.
Hynesjottingdownsomethinginhisnotebook.Ah,thenames.Butheknowsthemall.No:
comingtome.
Iamjusttakingthenames,Hynessaidbelowhisbreath.Whatisyourchristianname?
I'mnotsure.
L,MrBloomsaid.Leopold.AndyoumightputdownM'Coy'snametoo.Heaskedme
to.
Charley,Hynessaidwriting.Iknow.HewasontheFreemanonce.
SohewasbeforehegotthejobinthemorgueunderLouisByrne.Goodideaapostmortem
for doctors. Find out what they imagine they know. He died of a Tuesday. Got the run.
Levantedwiththecashofafewads.Charley,you'remydarling.Thatwaswhyheaskedme
to.Owell,doesnoharm.Isawtothat,M'Coy.Thanks,oldchap:muchobliged.Leavehim
underanobligation:costsnothing.
Andtellus,Hynessaid,doyouknowthatfellowinthe,fellowwasoverthereinthe...
Helookedaround.
Macintosh.Yes,Isawhim,MrBloomsaid.Whereishenow?
M'Intosh,Hynessaidscribbling.Idon'tknowwhoheis.Isthathisname?
Hemovedaway,lookingabouthim.
No,MrBloombegan,turningandstopping.Isay,Hynes!
Didn'thear.What?Wherehashedisappearedto?Notasign.Wellofallthe.Hasanybody
hereseen?Kayeedoubleell.Becomeinvisible.GoodLord,whatbecameofhim?
AseventhgravediggercamebesideMrBloomtotakeupanidlespade.
O,excuseme!
Hesteppedasidenimbly.

Clay,brown,damp,begantobeseeninthehole.Itrose.Nearlyover.Amoundofdamp
clodsrosemore,rose,andthegravediggersrestedtheirspades.Alluncoveredagainforafew
instants.Theboyproppedhiswreathagainstacorner:thebrotherinlawhisonalump.The
gravediggers put on their caps and carried their earthy spades towards the barrow. Then
knockedthebladeslightlyontheturf:clean.Onebenttopluckfromthehaftalongtuftof
grass. One, leaving his mates, walked slowly on with shouldered weapon, its blade
blueglancing. Silently at the gravehead another coiled the coffinband. His navelcord. The
brotherinlaw,turningaway,placedsomethinginhisfreehand.Thanksinsilence.Sorry,sir:
trouble.Headshake.Iknowthat.Foryourselvesjust.
Themournersmovedawayslowlywithoutaim,bydeviouspaths,stayingatwhilestoread
anameonatomb.
Letusgoroundbythechief'sgrave,Hynessaid.Wehavetime.
Letus,MrPowersaid.
Theyturnedtotheright,followingtheirslowthoughts.WithaweMrPower'sblankvoice
spoke:
Somesayheisnotinthatgraveatall.Thatthecoffinwasfilledwithstones.Thatone
dayhewillcomeagain.
Hynesshookhishead.
Parnellwillnevercomeagain,hesaid.He'sthere,allthatwasmortalofhim.Peacetohis
ashes.
Mr Bloom walked unheeded along his grove by saddened angels, crosses, broken pillars,
family vaults, stone hopes praying with upcast eyes, old Ireland's hearts and hands. More
sensibletospendthemoneyonsomecharityfortheliving.Prayforthereposeofthesoulof.
Doesanybodyreally?Planthimandhavedonewithhim.Likedownacoalshoot.Thenlump
themtogethertosavetime.Allsouls'day.TwentyseventhI'llbeathisgrave.Tenshillingsfor
thegardener.Hekeepsitfreeofweeds.Oldmanhimself.Bentdowndoublewithhisshears
clipping. Near death's door. Who passed away. Who departed this life. As if they did it of
theirownaccord.Gottheshove,allofthem.Whokickedthebucket.Moreinterestingifthey
toldyouwhattheywere.SoandSo,wheelwright.Itravelledforcorklino.Ipaidfiveshillings
inthepound.Orawoman'swithhersaucepan.IcookedgoodIrishstew.Eulogyinacountry
churchyarditoughttobethatpoemofwhoseisitWordsworthorThomasCampbell.Entered
intoresttheprotestantsputit.OldDrMurren's.Thegreatphysiciancalledhimhome.Well
it's God's acre for them. Nice country residence. Newly plastered and painted. Ideal spot to
haveaquietsmokeandreadtheChurchTimes.Marriageadstheynevertrytobeautify.Rusty
wreaths hung on knobs, garlands of bronzefoil. Better value that for the money. Still, the
flowersaremorepoetical.Theothergetsrathertiresome,neverwithering.Expressesnothing.
Immortelles.
A bird sat tamely perched on a poplar branch. Like stuffed. Like the wedding present
aldermanHoopergaveus.Hoo!Notabudgeoutofhim.Knowstherearenocatapultstolet
fly at him. Dead animal even sadder. SillyMilly burying the little dead bird in the kitchen
matchbox,adaisychainandbitsofbrokenchainiesonthegrave.
TheSacredHeartthatis:showingit.Heartonhissleeve.Oughttobesidewaysandredit
should be painted like a real heart. Ireland was dedicated to it or whatever that. Seems
anythingbutpleased.Whythisinfliction?Wouldbirdscomethenandpeckliketheboywith
thebasketoffruitbuthesaidnobecausetheyoughttohavebeenafraidoftheboy.Apollo
thatwas.
Howmany!AllthesehereoncewalkedroundDublin.Faithfuldeparted.Asyouarenowso
oncewerewe.
Besides how could you remember everybody? Eyes, walk, voice. Well, the voice, yes:
gramophone. Have a gramophone in every grave or keep it in the house. After dinner on a
Sunday.Putonpooroldgreatgrandfather.Kraahraark!Hellohellohelloamawfullygladkraark

awfullygladaseeagainhellohelloamawfkrpthsth.Remindyouofthevoicelikethephotograph
reminds you of the face. Otherwise you couldn't remember the face after fifteenyears,say.
Forinstancewho?ForinstancesomefellowthatdiedwhenIwasinWisdomHely's.
Rtststr!Arattleofpebbles.Wait.Stop!
Helookeddownintentlyintoastonecrypt.Someanimal.Wait.Therehegoes.
Anobesegreyrattoddledalongthesideofthecrypt,movingthepebbles.Anoldstager:
greatgrandfather: he knows the ropes. The grey alive crushed itself in under the plinth,
wriggleditselfinunderit.Goodhidingplacefortreasure.
Wholivesthere?ArelaidtheremainsofRobertEmery.RobertEmmetwasburiedhereby
torchlight,wasn'the?Makinghisrounds.
Tailgonenow.
Oneofthosechapswouldmakeshortworkofafellow.Pickthebonescleannomatterwho
itwas.Ordinarymeatforthem.Acorpseismeatgonebad.Wellandwhat'scheese?Corpseof
milk.IreadinthatVoyagesinChinathattheChinesesayawhitemansmellslikeacorpse.
Cremationbetter.Priestsdeadagainstit.Devillingfortheotherfirm.Wholesaleburnersand
Dutch oven dealers. Time of the plague. Quicklime feverpits to eat them. Lethal chamber.
Ashestoashes.Orburyatsea.WhereisthatParseetowerofsilence?Eatenbybirds.Earth,
fire, water. Drowning they say is the pleasantest. See your whole life in a flash. But being
broughtbacktolifeno.Can'tburyintheairhowever.Outofaflyingmachine.Wonderdoes
the news go about whenever a fresh one is let down. Underground communication. We
learned that from them. Wouldn't be surprised. Regular square feed for them. Flies come
before he's well dead. Got wind of Dignam. They wouldn't care about the smell of it.
Saltwhitecrumblingmushofcorpse:smell,tastelikerawwhiteturnips.
The gates glimmered in front: still open. Back to the world again. Enough of this place.
Bringsyouabitnearereverytime.LasttimeIwasherewasMrsSinico'sfuneral.Poorpapa
too.Thelovethatkills.AndevenscrapinguptheearthatnightwithalanternlikethatcaseI
readoftogetatfreshburiedfemalesorevenputrefiedwithrunninggravesores.Giveyouthe
creepsafterabit.Iwillappeartoyouafterdeath.Youwillseemyghostafterdeath.Myghost
willhauntyouafterdeath.Thereis another world after death named hell. I do not like that
other world she wrote. No more do I. Plenty to see and hear and feel yet. Feel live warm
beings near you. Let them sleep in their maggoty beds. They are not going to get me this
innings.Warmbeds:warmfullbloodedlife.
MartinCunninghamemergedfromasidepath,talkinggravely.
Solicitor,Ithink.Iknowhisface.Menton,JohnHenry,solicitor,commissionerforoaths
andaffidavits.Dignamusedtobeinhisoffice.MatDillon'slongago.JollyMat.Convivial
evenings.Coldfowl,cigars,theTantalusglasses.Heartofgoldreally.Yes,Menton.Gothis
ragoutthateveningonthebowlinggreenbecauseIsailedinsidehim.Pureflukeofmine:the
bias. Why he took such a rooted dislike to me. Hate at first sight. Molly and Floey Dillon
linkedunderthelilactree,laughing.Fellowalwayslikethat,mortifiedifwomenareby.
Gotadingeinthesideofhishat.Carriageprobably.
Excuseme,sir,MrBloomsaidbesidethem.
Theystopped.
Yourhatisalittlecrushed,MrBloomsaidpointing.
JohnHenryMentonstaredathimforaninstantwithoutmoving.
There,MartinCunninghamhelped,pointingalso.JohnHenryMentontook off his hat,
bulgedoutthedingeandsmoothedthenapwithcareonhiscoatsleeve.Heclappedthehaton
hisheadagain.
It'sallrightnow,MartinCunninghamsaid.
JohnHenryMentonjerkedhisheaddowninacknowledgment.
Thankyou,hesaidshortly.

Theywalkedontowardsthegates.MrBloom,chapfallen,drewbehindafewpacessoas
nottooverhear.Martinlayingdownthelaw.Martincouldwindasappyheadlikethatround
hislittlefinger,withouthisseeingit.
Oystereyes.Nevermind.Besorryafterperhapswhenitdawnsonhim.Getthepullover
himthatway.
Thankyou.Howgrandwearethismorning!
INTHEHEARTOFTHEHIBERNIANMETROPOLIS
Before Nelson's pillar trams slowed, shunted, changed trolley, started for Blackrock,
Kingstown and Dalkey, Clonskea, Rathgar and Terenure, Palmerston Park and upper
Rathmines, Sandymount Green, Rathmines, Ringsend and Sandymount Tower, Harold's
Cross.ThehoarseDublinUnitedTramwayCompany'stimekeeperbawledthemoff:
RathgarandTerenure!
Comeon,SandymountGreen!
Rightandleftparallelclangingringingadoubledeckerandasingledeckmovedfromtheir
railheads,swervedtothedownline,glidedparallel.
Start,PalmerstonPark!
THEWEAREROFTHECROWN
Undertheporchofthegeneralpostofficeshoeblackscalledandpolished.ParkedinNorth
Prince'sstreetHisMajesty'svermilionmailcars,bearingontheirsidestheroyalinitials,E.R.,
received loudly flung sacks of letters, postcards, lettercards, parcels, insured and paid, for
local,provincial,Britishandoverseasdelivery.
GENTLEMENOFTHEPRESS
Grossbooteddraymen rolled barrelsdullthudding out of Prince's stores andbumped them
up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by
grossbooteddraymenoutofPrince'sstores.
Thereitis,RedMurraysaid.AlexanderKeyes.
Justcutitout,willyou?MrBloomsaid,andI'lltakeitroundtotheTelegraphoffice.
ThedoorofRuttledge'sofficecreakedagain.DavyStephens,minuteinalargecapecoat,a
smallfelthatcrowninghisringlets,passedoutwitharollofpapersunderhiscape,aking's
courier.
Red Murray's long shears sliced out the advertisement from the newspaper in four clean
strokes.Scissorsandpaste.
I'llgothroughtheprintingworks,MrBloomsaid,takingthecutsquare.
Ofcourse,ifhewantsapar,RedMurraysaidearnestly,apenbehindhisear,wecando
himone.
Right,MrBloomsaidwithanod.I'llrubthatin.
We.
WILLIAMBRAYDEN,ESQUIRE,OFOAKLANDS,SANDYMOUNT
RedMurraytouchedMrBloom'sarmwiththeshearsandwhispered:
Brayden.
MrBloomturnedandsawtheliveriedporterraisehisletteredcapasastatelyfigureentered
between the newsboards of the Weekly Freeman and National Press and the Freeman's
Journal and National Press. Dullthudding Guinness's barrels. It passed statelily up the
staircase,steeredbyanumbrella,asolemnbeardframedface.Thebroadclothbackascended
eachstep:back.Allhisbrainsareinthenapeofhisneck,SimonDedalussays.Weltsofflesh
behindonhim.Fatfoldsofneck,fat,neck,fat,neck.
Don'tyouthinkhisfaceislikeOurSaviour?RedMurraywhispered.
The door of Ruttledge's office whispered: ee: cree. They always build one door opposite

anotherforthewindto.Wayin.Wayout.
Our Saviour: beardframed oval face: talking in the dusk. Mary, Martha. Steered by an
umbrellaswordtothefootlights:Mariothetenor.
OrlikeMario,MrBloomsaid.
Yes,RedMurrayagreed.ButMariowassaidtobethepictureofOurSaviour.
Jesusmariowithrougycheeks,doubletandspindlelegs.Handonhisheart.InMartha.
Coomethoulostone,
Coomethoudearone!

THECROZIERANDTHEPEN
Hisgracephoneddowntwicethismorning,RedMurraysaidgravely.
Theywatchedtheknees,legs,bootsvanish.Neck.
A telegram boy stepped in nimbly, threw an envelope on the counter and stepped off
posthastewithaword:
Freeman!
MrBloomsaidslowly:
Well,heisoneofoursavioursalso.
A meek smile accompanied him as he lifted the counterflap, as he passed in through a
sidedoorandalongthewarmdarkstairsandpassage,alongthenowreverberatingboards.But
willhesavethecirculation?Thumping.Thumping.
He pushed in the glass swingdoor and entered, stepping over strewn packing paper.
ThroughalaneofclankingdrumshemadehiswaytowardsNannetti'sreadingcloset.
WITH UNFEIGNED REGRET IT IS WE ANNOUNCE THE DISSOLUTION OF A
MOSTRESPECTEDDUBLINBURGESS
Hynes here too: account of the funeral probably. Thumping. Thump. This morning the
remains of the late Mr Patrick Dignam. Machines. Smash a man to atoms if they got him
caught.Ruletheworldtoday.Hismachineriesarepeggingawaytoo.Likethese,gotoutof
hand:fermenting.Workingaway,tearingaway.Andthatoldgreyrattearingtogetin.
HOWAGREATDAILYORGANISTURNEDOUT
MrBloomhaltedbehindtheforeman'ssparebody,admiringaglossycrown.
Strangeheneversawhisrealcountry.Irelandmycountry.MemberforCollegegreen.He
boomed thatworkaday worker tackforall it was worth.It's the ads and side features sell a
weekly,notthestalenewsintheofficialgazette.QueenAnneisdead.Publishedbyauthority
in the year one thousand and. Demesne situate in the townland of Rosenallis, barony of
Tinnahinch. To all whom it may concern schedule pursuant to statute showing return of
number of mules and jennets exported from Ballina. Nature notes. Cartoons. Phil Blake's
weeklyPatandBullstory.UncleToby'spagefortinytots.Countrybumpkin'squeries.Dear
MrEditor,whatisagoodcureforflatulence?I'dlikethatpart.Learnalotteachingothers.
The personal note. M. A. P. Mainly all pictures. Shapely bathers on golden strand. World's
biggestballoon.Doublemarriageofsisterscelebrated.Twobridegroomslaughingheartilyat
eachother.Cupranitoo,printer.MoreIrishthantheIrish.
The machines clanked in threefour time. Thump, thump, thump. Now if he got paralysed
thereandnooneknewhowtostopthemthey'dclankonandonthesame,printitoverand
overandupandback.Monkeydoodlethewholething.Wantacoolhead.
Well,getitintotheeveningedition,councillor,Hynessaid.
Soonbecallinghimmylordmayor.LongJohnisbackinghim,theysay.
Theforeman,withoutanswering,scribbledpressonacornerofthesheetandmadeasign
toatypesetter.Hehandedthesheetsilentlyoverthedirtyglassscreen.
Right:thanks,Hynessaidmovingoff.

MrBloomstoodinhisway.
Ifyouwanttodrawthecashierisjustgoingtolunch,hesaid,pointingbackwardwithhis
thumb.
Didyou?Hynesasked.
Mm,MrBloomsaid.Looksharpandyou'llcatchhim.
Thanks,oldman,Hynessaid.I'lltaphimtoo.
HehurriedoneagerlytowardstheFreeman'sJournal.
ThreebobIlenthiminMeagher's.Threeweeks.Thirdhint.
WESEETHECANVASSERATWORK
MrBloomlaidhiscuttingonMrNannetti'sdesk.
Excuseme,councillor,hesaid.Thisad,yousee.Keyes,youremember?
MrNannetticonsideredthecuttingawhileandnodded.
HewantsitinforJuly,MrBloomsaid.
Theforemanmovedhispenciltowardsit.
Butwait,MrBloomsaid.Hewantsitchanged.Keyes,yousee.Hewantstwokeysatthe
top.
Hellofarackettheymake.Hedoesn'thearit.Nannan.Ironnerves.Maybeheunderstands
whatI.
Theforemanturnedroundtohearpatientlyand,liftinganelbow,begantoscratchslowlyin
thearmpitofhisalpacajacket.
Likethat,MrBloomsaid,crossinghisforefingersatthetop.
Lethimtakethatinfirst.
Mr Bloom, glancing sideways up from the cross he had made, saw the foreman's sallow
face,thinkhehasatouchofjaundice,andbeyondtheobedientreelsfeedinginhugewebsof
paper. Clank it. Clank it. Miles of it unreeled. What becomes of it after? O, wrap up meat,
parcels:varioususes,thousandandonethings.
Slipping his words deftly into the pauses of the clanking he drew swiftly on the scarred
woodwork.
HOUSEOFKEY(E)S
Likethat,see.Twocrossedkeyshere.Acircle.Thenherethename.AlexanderKeyes,
tea,wineandspiritmerchant.Soon.
Betternotteachhimhisownbusiness.
You know yourself, councillor, just what he wants. Then round the top in leaded: the
houseofkeys.Yousee?Doyouthinkthat'sagoodidea?
Theforemanmovedhisscratchinghandtohislowerribsandscratchedtherequietly.
The idea, Mr Bloom said, is the house of keys. You know, councillor, the Manx
parliament. Innuendo of home rule. Tourists, you know, from the isle of Man. Catches the
eye,yousee.Canyoudothat?
I could ask him perhaps about how to pronounce that voglio.Butthen if he didn't know
onlymakeitawkwardforhim.Betternot.
Wecandothat,theforemansaid.Haveyouthedesign?
Icangetit,MrBloomsaid.ItwasinaKilkennypaper.Hehasahousetheretoo.I'lljust
runoutandaskhim.Well,youcandothatandjustalittleparcallingattention.Youknowthe
usual.Highclasslicensedpremises.Longfeltwant.Soon.
Theforemanthoughtforaninstant.
Wecandothat,hesaid.Lethimgiveusathreemonths'renewal.
Atypesetterbroughthimalimpgalleypage.Hebegantocheckitsilently.MrBloomstood

by,hearingtheloudthrobsofcranks,watchingthesilenttypesettersattheircases.
ORTHOGRAPHICAL
Want to be sure of his spelling. Proof fever. Martin Cunningham forgot to give us his
spellingbeeconundrumthismorning.Itisamusingtoviewtheunparonearalleledembarra
twoarsisit?doubleessmentofaharassedpedlarwhilegaugingauthesymmetrywithayof
apeeledpearunderacemeterywall.Silly,isn'tit?Cemeteryputinofcourseonaccountof
thesymmetry.
I should have said when he clapped on his topper. Thank you. I ought to have said
somethingaboutanoldhatorsomething.No.Icouldhavesaid.Looksasgoodasnewnow.
Seehisphizthen.
Sllt.Thenethermostdeckofthefirstmachinejoggedforwarditsflyboardwithslltthefirst
batchofquirefoldedpapers.Sllt.Almosthumanthewayitsllttocallattention.Doingitslevel
besttospeak.Thatdoortooslltcreaking,askingtobeshut.Everythingspeaksinitsownway.
Sllt.
NOTEDCHURCHMANANOCCASIONALCONTRIBUTOR
Theforemanhandedbackthegalleypagesuddenly,saying:
Wait.Where'sthearchbishop'sletter?It'stoberepeatedintheTelegraph.Where'swhat's
hisname?
Helookedabouthimroundhisloudunansweringmachines.
Monks,sir?avoiceaskedfromthecastingbox.
Ay.Where'sMonks?
Monks!
MrBloomtookuphiscutting.Timetogetout.
ThenI'llgetthedesign,MrNannetti,hesaid,andyou'llgiveitagoodplaceIknow.
Monks!
Yes,sir.
Threemonths'renewal.Wanttogetsomewindoffmychestfirst.Tryitanyhow.Rubin
August:goodidea:horseshowmonth.Ballsbridge.Touristsoverfortheshow.
ADAYFATHER
Hewalkedonthroughthecaseroompassinganoldman,bowed,spectacled,aproned.Old
Monks, the dayfather. Queer lot of stuff he must have put through his hands in his time:
obituary notices, pubs' ads, speeches, divorce suits, found drowned. Nearing the end of his
tether now. Sober serious man with a bit in the savingsbank I'd say. Wife a good cook and
washer.Daughterworkingthemachineintheparlour.PlainJane,nodamnnonsense.ANDIT
WASTHEFEASTOFTHEPASSOVER
He stayed in his walk to watch a typesetter neatly distributing type. Reads it backwards
first.Quicklyhedoesit.Mustrequiresomepracticethat.mangiDkcirtaP.Poorpapawithhis
hagadah book, reading backwards with his finger to me. Pessach. Next year in Jerusalem.
Dear,Odear!AllthatlongbusinessaboutthatbroughtusoutofthelandofEgyptandinto
thehouseofbondageAlleluia.ShemaIsraelAdonaiElohenu.No,that'stheother.Thenthe
twelvebrothers,Jacob'ssons.Andthenthelambandthecatandthedogandthestickandthe
waterandthebutcher.Andthentheangelofdeathkillsthebutcherandhekillstheoxandthe
dogkillsthecat.Soundsabitsillytillyoucometolookintoitwell.Justiceitmeansbutit's
everybody eating everyone else. That's what life is after all. How quickly he does that job.
Practicemakesperfect.Seemstoseewithhisfingers.
MrBloompassedonoutoftheclankingnoisesthroughthegalleryontothelanding.Now
am I going to tram it out all the way and then catch him out perhaps. Better phone him up
first.Number?Yes.SameasCitron'shouse.Twentyeight.Twentyeightdoublefour.
ONLYONCEMORETHATSOAP

He went down the house staircase. Who the deuce scrawled all over those walls with
matches?Looksasiftheydiditforabet.Heavygreasysmelltherealwaysisinthoseworks.
LukewarmglueinThom'snextdoorwhenIwasthere.
Hetookouthishandkerchieftodabhisnose.Citronlemon?Ah,thesoapIputthere.Loseit
out of that pocket. Putting back his handkerchief he took out the soap and stowed it away,
buttoned,intothehippocketofhistrousers.
Whatperfumedoesyourwifeuse?Icouldgohomestill:tram:somethingIforgot.Justto
see:before:dressing.No.Here.No.
AsuddenscreechoflaughtercamefromtheEveningTelegraphoffice.Knowwhothatis.
What'sup?Popinaminutetophone.NedLambertitis.
Heenteredsoftly.
ERIN,GREENGEMOFTHESILVERSEA
The ghost walks, professor MacHugh murmured softly, biscuitfully to the dusty
windowpane.
MrDedalus,staringfromtheemptyfireplaceatNedLambert'squizzingface,askedofit
sourly:
AgonisingChrist,wouldn'titgiveyouaheartburnonyourarse?
NedLambert,seatedonthetable,readon:
Or again, note the meanderings of some purling rill as it babbles on its way, tho'
quarrelling with the stony obstacles, to the tumbling waters of Neptune's blue domain, 'mid
mossy banks, fanned by gentlest zephyrs, played on by the glorious sunlight or 'neath the
shadows cast o'er its pensive bosom by the overarching leafage of the giants of the forest.
Whataboutthat,Simon?heaskedoverthefringeofhisnewspaper.How'sthatforhigh?
Changinghisdrink,MrDedalussaid.
NedLambert,laughing,struckthenewspaperonhisknees,repeating:
Thepensivebosomandtheoverarsingleafage.Oboys!Oboys!
AndXenophonlookeduponMarathon,MrDedalussaid,lookingagainonthefireplace
andtothewindow,andMarathonlookedonthesea.
Thatwilldo,professorMacHughcriedfromthewindow.Idon'twanttohearanymore
ofthestuff.
Heateoffthecrescentofwaterbiscuithehadbeennibblingand,hungered,madereadyto
nibblethebiscuitinhisotherhand.
High falutin stuff. Bladderbags. Ned Lambert is taking a day off I see. Rather upsets a
man'sday,afuneraldoes.Hehasinfluencetheysay.OldChatterton,thevicechancellor,ishis
granduncleorhisgreatgranduncle.Closeonninetytheysay.Subleaderforhisdeathwritten
thislongtimeperhaps.Livingtospitethem.Mightgofirsthimself.Johnny,makeroomfor
your uncle. The right honourable Hedges Eyre Chatterton. Daresay he writes him an odd
shakychequeortwoongaledays.Windfallwhenhekicksout.Alleluia.
Justanotherspasm,NedLambertsaid.
Whatisit?MrBloomasked.
ArecentlydiscoveredfragmentofCicero,professorMacHughanswered with pomp of
tone.Ourlovelyland.SHORTBUTTOTHEPOINT
Whoseland?MrBloomsaidsimply.
Most pertinent question, the professor said between his chews. With an accent on the
whose.
DanDawson'slandMrDedalussaid.
Isithisspeechlastnight?MrBloomasked.
NedLambertnodded.

Butlistentothis,hesaid.
ThedoorknobhitMrBloominthesmallofthebackasthedoorwaspushedin.
Excuseme,J.J.O'Molloysaid,entering.
MrBloommovednimblyaside.
Ibegyours,hesaid.
Goodday,Jack.
Comein.Comein.
Goodday.
Howareyou,Dedalus?
Well.Andyourself?
J.J.O'Molloyshookhishead.
SAD
Cleverestfellowatthejuniorbarheusedtobe.Decline,poorchap.Thathecticflushspells
finisforaman.Touchandgowithhim.What'sinthewind,Iwonder.Moneyworry.
Oragainifwebutclimbtheserriedmountainpeaks.
You'relookingextra.
Istheeditortobeseen?J.J.O'Molloyasked,lookingtowardstheinnerdoor.
Verymuchso,professorMacHughsaid.Tobeseenandheard.He'sinhissanctumwith
Lenehan.
J.J.O'Molloystrolledtotheslopingdeskandbegantoturnbackthepinkpagesofthefile.
Practicedwindling.Amighthavebeen.Losingheart.Gambling.Debtsofhonour. Reaping
thewhirlwind.UsedtogetgoodretainersfromD.andT.Fitzgerald.Theirwigstoshowthe
greymatter.BrainsontheirsleevelikethestatueinGlasnevin.Believehedoessomeliterary
work for the Express with Gabriel Conroy. Wellread fellow. Myles Crawford began on the
Independent.Funnythewaythosenewspapermenveeraboutwhentheygetwindofanew
opening. Weathercocks. Hot and cold in the same breath. Wouldn't know which to believe.
Onestorygoodtillyouhearthenext.Goforoneanotherbaldheadedinthepapersandthenall
blowsover.Hailfellowwellmetthenextmoment.
Ah, listen to this for God' sake, Ned Lambert pleaded. Or again if we but climb the
serriedmountainpeaks...
Bombast!theprofessorbrokeintestily.Enoughoftheinflatedwindbag!
Peaks,NedLambertwenton,toweringhighonhigh,tobatheoursouls,asitwere...
Bathehislips,MrDedalussaid.BlessedandeternalGod!Yes?Ishetakinganythingfor
it?
As 'twere, in the peerless panorama of Ireland's portfolio, unmatched, despite their
wellpraised prototypes in other vaunted prize regions, for very beauty, of bosky grove and
undulating plain and luscious pastureland of vernal green, steeped in the transcendent
translucentglowofourmildmysteriousIrishtwilight...
HISNATIVEDORIC
Themoon,professorMacHughsaid.HeforgotHamlet.
Thatmantlesthevistafarandwideandwaittilltheglowingorbofthemoonshineforth
toirradiatehersilvereffulgence...
O!MrDedaluscried,givingventtoahopelessgroan.Shiteandonions!That'lldo,Ned.
Lifeistooshort.
Hetookoffhissilkhatand,blowingoutimpatientlyhisbushymoustache,welshcombed
hishairwithrakingfingers.
NedLamberttossedthenewspaperaside,chucklingwithdelight.Aninstantafterahoarse
barkoflaughterburstoverprofessorMacHugh'sunshavenblackspectacledface.

DoughyDaw!hecried.
WHATWETHERUPSAID
Allveryfinetojeeratitnowincoldprintbutitgoesdownlikehotcakethatstuff.Hewas
in the bakery line too, wasn't he? Why they call him Doughy Daw. Feathered his nest well
anyhow.Daughterengagedtothatchapintheinlandrevenueofficewiththemotor.Hooked
thatnicely.Entertainments.Openhouse.Bigblowout.Wetherupalwayssaidthat.Getagrip
ofthembythestomach.
The inner door was opened violently and a scarlet beaked face, crested by a comb of
featheryhair,thrustitselfin.Theboldblueeyesstaredaboutthemandtheharshvoiceasked:
Whatisit?
Andherecomestheshamsquirehimself!professorMacHughsaidgrandly.
Getonouthat,youbloodyoldpedagogue!theeditorsaidinrecognition.
Come,Ned,MrDedalussaid,puttingonhishat.Imustgetadrinkafterthat.
Drink!theeditorcried.Nodrinksservedbeforemass.
Quiterighttoo,MrDedalussaid,goingout.Comeon,Ned.
NedLambertsidleddownfromthetable.Theeditor'sblueeyesrovedtowardsMrBloom's
face,shadowedbyasmile.
Willyoujoinus,Myles?NedLambertasked.
MEMORABLEBATTLESRECALLED
North Cork militia! the editor cried, striding to the mantelpiece. We won every time!
NorthCorkandSpanishofficers!
Wherewasthat,Myles?NedLambertaskedwithareflectiveglanceathistoecaps.
InOhio!theeditorshouted.
Soitwas,begad,NedLambertagreed.
PassingouthewhisperedtoJ.J.O'Molloy:
Incipientjigs.Sadcase.
Ohio!theeditorcrowedinhightreblefromhisupliftedscarletface.MyOhio!
Aperfectcretic!theprofessorsaid.Long,shortandlong.
O,HARPEOLIAN!
Hetookareelofdentalflossfromhiswaistcoatpocketand,breakingoffapiece,twanged
itsmartlybetweentwoandtwoofhisresonantunwashedteeth.
Bingbang,bangbang.
MrBloom,seeingthecoastclear,madefortheinnerdoor.
Justamoment,MrCrawford,hesaid.Ijustwanttophoneaboutanad.
Hewentin.
Whataboutthatleaderthisevening?professorMacHughasked,comingtotheeditorand
layingafirmhandonhisshoulder.
That'llbeallright,MylesCrawfordsaidmorecalmly.Neveryoufret.Hello,Jack.That's
allright.
Goodday,Myles,J.J.O'Molloysaid,lettingthepagesheheldsliplimplybackonthe
file.IsthatCanadaswindlecaseontoday?
Thetelephonewhirredinside.
Twentyeight...No,twenty...Doublefour...Yes.
SPOTTHEWINNER
LenehancameoutoftheinnerofficewithSPORT'Stissues.
WhowantsadeadcertfortheGoldcup?heasked.SceptrewithO.Maddenup.

Hetossedthetissuesontothetable.
Screamsofnewsboysbarefootinthehallrushednearandthedoorwasflungopen.
Hush,Lenehansaid.Ihearfeetstoops.
ProfessorMacHughstrodeacrosstheroomandseizedthecringingurchinbythecollaras
theothersscamperedoutofthehallanddownthesteps.Thetissuesrustledupinthedraught,
floatedsoftlyintheairbluescrawlsandunderthetablecametoearth.
Itwasn'tme,sir.Itwasthebigfellowshovedme,sir.
Throwhimoutandshutthedoor,theeditorsaid.There'sahurricaneblowing.
Lenehanbegantopawthetissuesupfromthefloor,gruntingashestoopedtwice.
Waitingfortheracingspecial,sir,thenewsboysaid.ItwasPatFarrellshovedme,sir.
Hepointedtotwofacespeeringinroundthedoorframe.
Him,sir.
Outofthiswithyou,professorMacHughsaidgruffly.
Hehustledtheboyoutandbangedthedoorto.
J.J.O'Molloyturnedthefilescrackinglyover,murmuring,seeking:
Continuedonpagesix,columnfour.
Yes, Evening Telegraph here, Mr Bloom phoned from the inner office. Is the boss...?
Yes,Telegraph...Towhere?Aha!Whichauctionrooms?...Aha!Isee...Right.I'llcatchhim.
ACOLLISIONENSUES
The bell whirred again as he rang off. He came in quickly and bumped against Lenehan
whowasstrugglingupwiththesecondtissue.
Pardon,monsieur,Lenehansaid,clutchinghimforaninstantandmakingagrimace.
Myfault,MrBloomsaid,sufferinghisgrip.Areyouhurt?I'minahurry.
Knee,Lenehansaid.
Hemadeacomicfaceandwhined,rubbinghisknee:
TheaccumulationoftheannoDomini.
Sorry,MrBloomsaid.
He went to the door and, holding it ajar, paused. J. J. O'Molloy slapped the heavy pages
over. The noise of two shrill voices, a mouthorgan, echoed in the bare hallway from the
newsboyssquattedonthedoorsteps:
WearetheboysofWexford
Whofoughtwithheartandhand.

EXITBLOOM
I'mjustrunningroundtoBachelor'swalk,MrBloomsaid,aboutthisadofKeyes's.Want
tofixitup.Theytellmehe'sroundthereinDillon's.
He looked indecisively for a moment at their faces. The editor who, leaning against the
mantelshelf,hadproppedhisheadonhishand,suddenlystretchedforthanarmamply.
Begone!hesaid.Theworldisbeforeyou.
Backinnotime,MrBloomsaid,hurryingout.
J. J. O'Molloy took the tissues from Lenehan's hand and read them, blowing them apart
gently,withoutcomment.
He'll get that advertisement, the professor said, staring through his blackrimmed
spectaclesoverthecrossblind.Lookattheyoungscampsafterhim.
Show.Where?Lenehancried,runningtothewindow.
ASTREETCORTEGE
BothsmiledoverthecrossblindatthefileofcaperingnewsboysinMrBloom'swake,the

lastzigzaggingwhiteonthebreezeamockingkite,atailofwhitebowknots.
Lookattheyoungguttersnipebehindhimhueandcry,Lenehansaid,andyou'llkick.O,
myribrisible!Takingoffhisflatspaugsandthewalk.Smallnines.Stealuponlarks.
Hebegantomazurkainswiftcaricatureacrosstheflooronslidingfeetpastthefireplaceto
J.J.O'Molloywhoplacedthetissuesinhisreceivinghands.
What'sthat?MylesCrawfordsaidwithastart.Wherearetheothertwogone?
Who? the professor said, turning. They're gone round to the Oval for a drink. Paddy
HooperistherewithJackHall.Cameoverlastnight.
Comeonthen,MylesCrawfordsaid.Where'smyhat?
Hewalkedjerkilyintotheofficebehind,partingtheventofhisjacket,jinglinghiskeysin
his back pocket. They jingled then in the air and against the wood as he locked his desk
drawer.
He'sprettywellon,professorMacHughsaidinalowvoice.
Seemstobe,J.J.O'Molloysaid,takingoutacigarettecaseinmurmuringmeditation,but
itisnotalwaysasitseems.Whohasthemostmatches?
THECALUMETOFPEACE
He offered a cigarette to the professor and took one himself. Lenehan promptly struck a
matchforthemandlittheircigarettesinturn.J.J.O'Molloyopenedhiscaseagainandoffered
it.
Thankyvous,Lenehansaid,helpinghimself.
Theeditorcamefromtheinneroffice,astrawhatawryonhisbrow.Hedeclaimedinsong,
pointingsternlyatprofessorMacHugh:
'Twasrankandfamethattemptedthee,'Twasempirecharmedthyheart.
Theprofessorgrinned,lockinghislonglips.
Eh?YoubloodyoldRomanempire?MylesCrawfordsaid.
Hetookacigarettefromtheopencase.Lenehan,lightingitforhimwithquickgrace,said:
Silenceformybrandnewriddle!
Imperiumromanum,J.J.O'Molloysaidgently.ItsoundsnoblerthanBritishorBrixton.
Thewordremindsonesomehowoffatinthefire.
MylesCrawfordblewhisfirstpuffviolentlytowardstheceiling.
That's it, he said. We are the fat. You and I are the fat in the fire. We haven't got the
chanceofasnowballinhell.
THEGRANDEURTHATWASROME
Wait a moment, professor MacHugh said, raising two quiet claws. We mustn't be led
awaybywords,bysoundsofwords.WethinkofRome,imperial,imperious,imperative.
Heextendedelocutionaryarmsfromfrayedstainedshirtcuffs,pausing:
What was their civilisation? Vast, I allow: but vile. Cloacae: sewers. The Jews in the
wildernessandonthemountaintopsaid:Itismeettobehere.LetusbuildanaltartoJehovah.
TheRoman,liketheEnglishmanwhofollowsinhisfootsteps,broughttoeverynewshoreon
whichhesethisfoot(onourshoreheneversetit)onlyhiscloacalobsession.Hegazedabout
himinhistogaandhesaid:Itismeettobehere.Letusconstructawatercloset.
Whichtheyaccordinglydiddo,Lenehansaid.Ouroldancientancestors,aswereadin
thefirstchapterofGuinness's,werepartialtotherunningstream.
Theywerenature'sgentlemen,J.J.O'Molloymurmured.ButwehavealsoRomanlaw.
AndPontiusPilateisitsprophet,professorMacHughresponded.
DoyouknowthatstoryaboutchiefbaronPalles?J.J.O'Molloyasked.Itwasattheroyal
universitydinner.Everythingwasgoingswimmingly...
Firstmyriddle,Lenehansaid.Areyouready?

Mr O'Madden Burke, tall in copious grey of Donegal tweed, came in from the hallway.
StephenDedalus,behindhim,uncoveredasheentered.
Entrez,mesenfants!Lenehancried.
I escort a suppliant, Mr O'Madden Burke said melodiously. Youth led by Experience
visitsNotoriety.
How do you do? the editor said, holding out a hand. Come in. Your governor is just
gone.???
Lenehansaidtoall:
Silence!Whatoperaresemblesarailwayline?Reflect,ponder,excogitate,reply.
Stephenhandedoverthetypedsheets,pointingtothetitleandsignature.
Who?theeditorasked.
Bittornoff.
MrGarrettDeasy,Stephensaid.
Thatoldpelters,theeditorsaid.Whotoreit?Washeshorttaken?
Onswiftsailflaming
Fromstormandsouth
Hecomes,palevampire,
Mouthtomymouth.

Good day, Stephen, the professor said, coming to peer over their shoulders. Foot and
mouth?Areyouturned...?
Bullockbefriendingbard.
SHINDYINWELLKNOWNRESTAURANT
Good day, sir, Stephen answered blushing. The letter is not mine. Mr Garrett Deasy
askedmeto...
O,Iknowhim,MylesCrawfordsaid,andIknewhiswifetoo.Thebloodiestoldtartar
Godevermade.ByJesus,shehadthefootandmouthdiseaseandnomistake!Thenightshe
threwthesoupinthewaiter'sfaceintheStarandGarter.Oho!
Awomanbroughtsinintotheworld.ForHelen,therunawaywifeofMenelaus,tenyears
theGreeks.O'Rourke,princeofBreffni.
Isheawidower?Stephenasked.
Ay, a grass one, Myles Crawford said, his eye running down the typescript. Emperor's
horses. Habsburg. An Irishman saved his life on the ramparts of Vienna. Don't you forget!
Maximilian Karl O'Donnell, graf von Tirconnell in Ireland. Sent his heir over to make the
king an Austrian fieldmarshal now. Going to be trouble there one day. Wild geese. O yes,
everytime.Don'tyouforgetthat!
The moot point is did he forget it, J. J. O'Molloy said quietly, turning a horseshoe
paperweight.Savingprincesisathankyoujob.
ProfessorMacHughturnedonhim.
Andifnot?hesaid.
I'll tell you how it was, Myles Crawford began. A Hungarian it was one day... LOST
CAUSES
NOBLEMARQUESSMENTIONED
Wewerealwaysloyaltolostcauses,theprofessorsaid.Successforusisthedeathofthe
intellectandoftheimagination.Wewereneverloyaltothesuccessful.Weservethem.Iteach
the blatant Latin language. I speak the tongue of a race the acme of whose mentality is the
maxim:timeismoney.Materialdomination.Dominus!Lord!Whereisthespirituality?Lord
Jesus?LordSalisbury?Asofainawestendclub.ButtheGreek!
KYRIEELEISON!

Asmileoflightbrightenedhisdarkrimmedeyes,lengthenedhislonglips.
TheGreek!hesaidagain.Kyrios!Shiningword!ThevowelstheSemiteandtheSaxon
knownot.Kyrie!Theradianceoftheintellect.IoughttoprofessGreek,thelanguageofthe
mind.Kyrieeleison! The closetmaker and the cloacamaker will never be lords of ourspirit.
WeareliegesubjectsofthecatholicchivalryofEuropethatfounderedatTrafalgarandofthe
empire of the spirit, not an imperium, that went under with the Athenian fleets at
Aegospotami.Yes,yes.Theywentunder.Pyrrhus,misledbyanoracle,madealastattemptto
retrievethefortunesofGreece.Loyaltoalostcause.
Hestrodeawayfromthemtowardsthewindow.
Theywentforthtobattle,MrO'MaddenBurkesaidgreyly,buttheyalwaysfell.
Boohoo!Lenehanweptwithalittlenoise.Owingtoabrickreceivedinthelatterhalfof
thematine.Poor,poor,poorPyrrhus!
HewhisperedthennearStephen'sear:
LENEHAN'SLIMERICK
There'saponderouspunditMacHugh
Whowearsgogglesofebonyhue.
Ashemostlyseesdouble
Towearthemwhytrouble?
Ican'tseetheJoeMiller.Canyou?

InmourningforSallust,Mulligansays.Whosemotherisbeastlydead.
MylesCrawfordcrammedthesheetsintoasidepocket.
That'llbeallright,hesaid.I'llreadtherestafter.That'llbeallright.
Lenehanextendedhishandsinprotest.
Butmyriddle!hesaid.Whatoperaislikearailwayline?
Opera?MrO'MaddenBurke'ssphinxfacereriddled.
Lenehanannouncedgladly:
TheRoseofCastile.Seethewheeze?Rowsofcaststeel.Gee!
He poked Mr O'Madden Burke mildly in the spleen. Mr O'Madden Burke fell back with
graceonhisumbrella,feigningagasp.
Help!hesighed.Ifeelastrongweakness.
Lenehan,risingtotiptoe,fannedhisfacerapidlywiththerustlingtissues.
The professor, returning by way of the files, swept his hand across Stephen's and Mr
O'MaddenBurke'slooseties.
Paris,pastandpresent,hesaid.Youlooklikecommunards.
LikefellowswhohadblownuptheBastile,J.J.O'Molloysaidinquietmockery.Orwas
ityoushotthelordlieutenantofFinlandbetweenyou?Youlookasthoughyouhaddonethe
deed.GeneralBobrikoff.
OMNIUMGATHERUM
Wewereonlythinkingaboutit,Stephensaid.
Allthetalents,MylesCrawfordsaid.Law,theclassics...
Theturf,Lenehanputin.
Literature,thepress.
IfBloomwerehere,theprofessorsaid.Thegentleartofadvertisement.
And Madam Bloom, Mr O'Madden Burke added. The vocal muse. Dublin's prime
favourite.
Lenehangavealoudcough.
Ahem!hesaidverysoftly.O,forafreshofbreathair!Icaughtacoldinthepark.The
gatewasopen.

YOUCANDOIT!
TheeditorlaidanervoushandonStephen'sshoulder.
Iwantyoutowritesomethingforme,hesaid.Somethingwithabiteinit.Youcandoit.
Iseeitinyourface.Inthelexiconofyouth...
Seeitinyourface.Seeitinyoureye.Lazyidlelittleschemer.
Footandmouthdisease!theeditorcriedinscornfulinvective.Greatnationalistmeeting
inBorrisinOssory.Allballs!Bulldosingthepublic!Givethemsomethingwithabiteinit.
Putusallintoit,damnitssoul.Father,SonandHolyGhostandJakesM'Carthy.
Wecanallsupplymentalpabulum,MrO'MaddenBurkesaid.
Stephenraisedhiseyestotheboldunheedingstare.
Hewantsyouforthepressgang,J.J.O'Molloysaid.
THEGREATGALLAHER
Youcandoit,MylesCrawfordrepeated,clenchinghishandinemphasis.Waitaminute.
We'llparalyseEuropeasIgnatiusGallaherusedtosaywhenhewasontheshaughraun,doing
billiardmarkingintheClarence.Gallaher,thatwasapressmanforyou.Thatwasapen.You
know how he made his mark? I'll tell you. That was the smartest piece of journalism ever
known.Thatwasineightyone,sixthofMay,timeoftheinvincibles,murderinthePhoenix
park,beforeyouwereborn,Isuppose.I'llshowyou.
Hepushedpastthemtothefiles.
Lookathere,hesaidturning.TheNewYorkWorldcabledforaspecial.Rememberthat
time?
ProfessorMacHughnodded.
New York World, the editor said, excitedly pushing back his straw hat. Where it took
place.TimKelly,orKavanaghImean.JoeBradyandtherestofthem.WhereSkintheGoat
drovethecar.Wholeroute,see?
SkintheGoat,MrO'MaddenBurkesaid.Fitzharris.Hehasthatcabman'sshelter,they
say,downthereatButtbridge.Holohantoldme.YouknowHolohan?
Hopandcarryone,isit?MylesCrawfordsaid.
AndpoorGumleyisdowntheretoo,sohetoldme,mindingstonesforthecorporation.A
nightwatchman.
Stephenturnedinsurprise.
Gumley?hesaid.Youdon'tsayso?Afriendofmyfather's,isit?
Never mind Gumley, Myles Crawford cried angrily. Let Gumley mind the stones, see
theydon'trunaway.Lookathere.WhatdidIgnatiusGallaherdo?I'lltellyou.Inspirationof
genius. Cabled right away. Have you Weekly Freeman of 17 March? Right. Have you got
that?
Heflungbackpagesofthefilesandstuckhisfingeronapoint.
Take page four, advertisement for Bransome's coffee, let us say. Have you got that?
Right.
Thetelephonewhirred.
ADISTANTVOICE
I'llanswerit,theprofessorsaid,going.
Bisparkgate.Good.
Hisfingerleapedandstruckpointafterpoint,vibrating.
Tisviceregallodge.Ciswheremurdertookplace.KisKnockmaroongate.
Theloosefleshofhisneckshooklikeacock'swattles.Anillstarcheddickyjuttedupand
witharudegesturehethrustitbackintohiswaistcoat.
Hello?EveningTelegraphhere...Hello?...Who'sthere?...Yes...Yes...Yes.

FtoPistherouteSkintheGoatdrovethecarforanalibi,Inchicore,Roundtown,Windy
Arbour, Palmerston Park, Ranelagh. F.A.B.P. Got that? X is Davy's publichouse in upper
Leesonstreet.
Theprofessorcametotheinnerdoor.
Bloomisatthetelephone,hesaid.
Tell him go to hell, the editor said promptly. X is Davy's publichouse, see? CLEVER,
VERY
Clever,Lenehansaid.Very.
Gaveittothemonahotplate,MylesCrawfordsaid,thewholebloodyhistory.
Nightmarefromwhichyouwillneverawake.
I saw it, the editor said proudly. I was present. Dick Adams, the besthearted bloody
CorkmantheLordeverputthebreathoflifein,andmyself.
Lenehanbowedtoashapeofair,announcing:
Madam,I'mAdam.AndAblewasIereIsawElba.
History!MylesCrawfordcried.TheOldWomanofPrince'sstreetwastherefirst.There
wasweepingandgnashingofteethoverthat.Outofanadvertisement.GregorGreymadethe
designforit.Thatgavehimthelegup.ThenPaddyHooperworkedTayPaywhotookhimon
totheStar. Now he's got in with Blumenfeld. That's press. That's talent. Pyatt! He was all
theirdaddies!
The father of scare journalism, Lenehan confirmed, and the brotherinlaw of Chris
Callinan.
Hello?...Areyouthere?...Yes,he'sherestill.Comeacrossyourself.
Where do you find a pressman like that now, eh? the editor cried. He flung the pages
down.
Clamndever,LenehansaidtoMrO'MaddenBurke.
Verysmart,MrO'MaddenBurkesaid.
ProfessorMacHughcamefromtheinneroffice.
Talkingabouttheinvincibles,hesaid,didyouseethatsomehawkerswereupbeforethe
recorder?
Oyes,J.J.O'Molloysaideagerly.LadyDudleywaswalkinghomethroughtheparkto
seeallthetreesthatwereblowndownbythatcyclonelastyearandthoughtshe'dbuyaview
ofDublin.AnditturnedouttobeacommemorationpostcardofJoeBradyorNumberOneor
SkintheGoat.Rightoutsidetheviceregallodge,imagine!
They'reonlyinthehookandeyedepartment,MylesCrawfordsaid.Psha!Pressandthe
bar!Wherehaveyouamannowatthebarlikethosefellows,likeWhiteside,likeIsaacButt,
likesilvertonguedO'Hagan.Eh?Ah,bloodynonsense.Psha!Onlyinthehalfpennyplace.
Hismouthcontinuedtotwitchunspeakinginnervouscurlsofdisdain.
Wouldanyonewishthatmouthforherkiss?Howdoyouknow?Whydidyouwriteitthen?
RHYMESANDREASONS
Mouth,south.Isthemouthsouthsomeway?Orthesouthamouth?Mustbesome.South,
pout,out,shout,drouth.Rhymes:twomendressedthesame,lookingthesame,twobytwo.
........................latuapace
..................cheparlartipiace
....mentrechilvento,comefa,sitace.

Hesawthemthreebythree,approachinggirls,ingreen,inrose,inrusset,entwining,per
l'aerperso,inmauve,inpurple,quellapacificaoriafiamma,goldoforiflamme,dirimirarfe
piu ardenti. But I old men, penitent, leadenfooted, underdarkneath the night: mouth south:
tombwomb.

Speakupforyourself,MrO'MaddenBurkesaid.
SUFFICIENTFORTHEDAY...
J.J.O'Molloy,smilingpalely,tookupthegage.
MydearMyles,hesaid,flinginghiscigaretteaside,youputafalseconstructiononmy
words.Iholdnobrief,asatpresentadvised,forthethirdprofessionquaprofessionbutyour
Cork legs are running away with you. Why not bring in Henry Grattan and Flood and
Demosthenes and Edmund Burke? Ignatius Gallaher we all know and his Chapelizod boss,
Harmsworthofthefarthingpress,andhisAmericancousinoftheBoweryguttersheetnotto
mention Paddy Kelly's Budget, Pue's Occurrences and our watchful friend The Skibbereen
Eagle.WhybringinamasterofforensiceloquencelikeWhiteside?Sufficientforthedayis
thenewspaperthereof.LINKSWITHBYGONEDAYSOFYORE
GrattanandFloodwroteforthisverypaper,theeditorcriedinhisface.Irishvolunteers.
Where are you now? Established 1763. Dr Lucas. Who have you now like John Philpot
Curran?Psha!
Well,J.J.O'Molloysaid,BusheK.C.,forexample.
Bushe?theeditorsaid.Well,yes:Bushe,yes.Hehasastrainofitinhisblood.Kendal
BusheorImeanSeymourBushe.
Hewouldhavebeenonthebenchlongago,theprofessorsaid,onlyfor...Butnomatter.
J.J.O'MolloyturnedtoStephenandsaidquietlyandslowly:
OneofthemostpolishedperiodsIthinkIeverlistenedtoinmylifefellfromthelipsof
SeymourBushe.Itwasinthatcaseoffratricide,theChildsmurdercase.Bushedefendedhim.
Andintheporchesofmineeardidpour.
Bythewayhowdidhefindthatout?Hediedinhissleep.Ortheotherstory,beastwith
twobacks?
Whatwasthat?theprofessorasked.
ITALIA,MAGISTRAARTIUM
Hespokeonthelawofevidence,J.J.O'Molloysaid,ofRomanjusticeascontrastedwith
the earlier Mosaic code, the lex talionis. And he cited the Moses of Michelangelo in the
vatican.
Ha.
Afewwellchosenwords,Lenehanprefaced.Silence!
Pause.J.J.O'Molloytookouthiscigarettecase.
Falselull.Somethingquiteordinary.
Messengertookouthismatchboxthoughtfullyandlithiscigar.
Ihaveoftenthoughtsinceonlookingbackoverthatstrangetimethatitwasthatsmallact,
trivialinitself,thatstrikingofthatmatch,thatdeterminedthewholeaftercourseofbothour
lives.APOLISHEDPERIOD
J.J.O'Molloyresumed,mouldinghiswords:
Hesaidofit:thatstonyeffigyinfrozenmusic,hornedandterrible,ofthehumanform
divine,thateternalsymbolofwisdomandofprophecywhich,ifaughtthattheimaginationor
the hand of sculptor has wrought in marble of soultransfigured and of soultransfiguring
deservestolive,deservestolive.
Hisslimhandwithawavegracedechoandfall.
Fine!MylesCrawfordsaidatonce.
Thedivineafflatus,MrO'MaddenBurkesaid.
Youlikeit?J.J.O'MolloyaskedStephen.
Stephen,hisbloodwooedbygraceoflanguageandgesture,blushed.Hetookacigarette
fromthecase.J.J.O'MolloyofferedhiscasetoMylesCrawford.Lenehanlittheircigarettes

asbeforeandtookhistrophy,saying:
Muchibusthankibus.
AMANOFHIGHMORALE
ProfessorMagenniswasspeakingtomeaboutyou,J.J.O'MolloysaidtoStephen.What
doyouthinkreallyofthathermeticcrowd,theopalhushpoets:A.E.themastermystic?That
Blavatsky woman started it. She was a nice old bag of tricks. A. E. has been telling some
yankeeinterviewerthatyoucametohiminthesmallhoursofthemorningtoaskhimabout
planesofconsciousness.MagennisthinksyoumusthavebeenpullingA.E.'sleg.Heisaman
oftheveryhighestmorale,Magennis.
Speakingaboutme.Whatdidhesay?Whatdidhesay?Whatdidhesayaboutme?Don't
ask.
No,thanks,professorMacHughsaid,wavingthecigarettecaseaside.Waitamoment.Let
me say one thing. The finest display of oratory I ever heard was a speech made by John F
Taylor at the college historical society. Mr Justice Fitzgibbon, the present lord justice of
appeal,hadspokenandthepaperunderdebatewasanessay(newforthosedays),advocating
therevivaloftheIrishtongue.
HeturnedtowardsMylesCrawfordandsaid:
YouknowGeraldFitzgibbon.Thenyoucanimaginethestyleofhisdiscourse.
HeissittingwithTimHealy,J.J.O'Molloysaid,rumourhasit,ontheTrinitycollege
estatescommission.
Heissittingwithasweetthing,MylesCrawfordsaid,inachild'sfrock.Goon.Well?
It was the speech, mark you, the professor said, of a finished orator, full of courteous
haughtinessandpouringinchasteneddictionIwillnotsaythevialsofhiswrathbutpouring
theproudman'scontumelyuponthenewmovement.Itwasthenanewmovement.Wewere
weak,thereforeworthless.
Heclosedhislongthinlipsaninstantbut,eagertobeon,raisedanoutspannedhandtohis
spectaclesand,withtremblingthumbandringfingertouchinglightlytheblackrims,steadied
themtoanewfocus.
IMPROMPTU
InferialtoneheaddressedJ.J.O'Molloy:
Taylorhadcomethere,youmustknow,fromasickbed.Thathehadpreparedhisspeech
Idonotbelievefortherewasnotevenoneshorthandwriterinthehall.Hisdarkleanfacehad
a growth of shaggy beard round it. He wore a loose white silk neckcloth and altogether he
looked(thoughhewasnot)adyingman.
HisgazeturnedatoncebutslowlyfromJ.J.O'Molloy'stowardsStephen'sfaceandthen
bentatoncetotheground,seeking.Hisunglazedlinencollarappearedbehindhisbenthead,
soiledbyhiswitheringhair.Stillseeking,hesaid:
When Fitzgibbon's speech had ended John F Taylor rose to reply. Briefly, as well as I
canbringthemtomind,hiswordswerethese.
He raised his head firmly. His eyes bethought themselves once more. Witless shellfish
swaminthegrosslensestoandfro,seekingoutlet.
Hebegan:
Mr Chairman, ladies and gentlemen: Great was my admiration in listening to the
remarksaddressedtotheyouthofIrelandamomentsincebymylearnedfriend.Itseemedto
methatIhadbeentransportedintoacountryfarawayfromthiscountry,intoanageremote
from this age, that I stood in ancient Egypt and that I was listening to the speech of some
highpriestofthatlandaddressedtotheyouthfulMoses.
Hislistenersheldtheircigarettespoisedtohear,theirsmokesascendinginfrailstalksthat
floweredwithhisspeech.Andletourcrookedsmokes.Noblewordscoming.Lookout.Could
youtryyourhandatityourself?

AnditseemedtomethatIheardthevoiceofthatEgyptianhighpriestraisedinatoneof
likehaughtinessandlikepride.Iheardhiswordsandtheirmeaningwasrevealedtome.
FROMTHEFATHERS
Itwasrevealedtomethatthosethingsaregoodwhichyetarecorruptedwhichneitherif
they were supremely good nor unless they were good could be corrupted. Ah, curse you!
That'ssaintAugustine.
Whywillyoujewsnotacceptourculture,ourreligionandourlanguage?Youareatribe
ofnomadherdsmen:weareamightypeople.Youhavenocitiesnornowealth:ourcitiesare
hives of humanity and our galleys, trireme and quadrireme, laden with all manner
merchandise furrow the waters of the known globe. You have but emerged from primitive
conditions:wehavealiterature,apriesthood,anagelonghistoryandapolity.
Nile.
Child,man,effigy.
By the Nilebank the babemaries kneel, cradle of bulrushes: a man supple in combat:
stonehorned,stonebearded,heartofstone.
You pray to a local and obscure idol: our temples, majestic and mysterious, are the
abodesofIsisandOsiris,ofHorusandAmmonRa.Yoursserfdom,aweandhumbleness:ours
thunderandtheseas.Israelisweakandfewareherchildren:Egyptisanhostandterrible
areherarms.Vagrantsanddaylabourersareyoucalled:theworldtremblesatourname.
Adumbbelchofhungerclefthisspeech.Heliftedhisvoiceaboveitboldly:
But,ladiesandgentlemen,hadtheyouthfulMoseslistenedtoandacceptedthatviewof
life, had he bowed his head and bowed his will and bowed his spirit before that arrogant
admonitionhewouldneverhavebroughtthechosenpeopleoutoftheirhouseofbondage,nor
followedthepillar of the cloud by day. He would never have spoken with the Eternal amid
lightnings on Sinai's mountaintop nor ever have come down with the light of inspiration
shining in his countenance and bearing in his arms the tables of the law, graven in the
languageoftheoutlaw.
Heceasedandlookedatthem,enjoyingasilence.
OMINOUSFORHIM!
J.J.O'Molloysaidnotwithoutregret:
Andyethediedwithouthavingenteredthelandofpromise.
A suddenatthemomentthoughfromlingeringillnessoften previously
expectorateddemise,Lenehanadded.Andwithagreatfuturebehindhim.
Thetroopofbarefeetwasheardrushingalongthehallwayandpatteringupthestaircase.
That is oratory, the professor said uncontradicted. Gone with the wind. Hosts at
MullaghmastandTaraofthekings.Milesofearsofporches.Thetribune'swords,howledand
scatteredtothefourwinds.Apeopleshelteredwithinhisvoice.Deadnoise.Akasicrecordsof
allthateveranywherewhereverwas.Loveandlaudhim:menomore.
Ihavemoney.
Gentlemen,Stephensaid.AsthenextmotionontheagendapapermayIsuggestthatthe
housedonowadjourn?
You take my breath away. It is not perchance a French compliment? Mr O'Madden
Burke asked. 'Tis the hour, methinks, when the winejug, metaphorically speaking, is most
gratefulinYeancienthostelry.
That it be and hereby is resolutely resolved. All that are in favour say ay, Lenehan
announced. The contrary no. I declare it carried. To which particular boosing shed?... My
castingvoteis:Mooney's!
Heledtheway,admonishing:
Wewillsternlyrefusetopartakeofstrongwaters,willwenot?Yes,wewillnot.Byno

mannerofmeans.
MrO'MaddenBurke,followingclose,saidwithanally'slungeofhisumbrella:
Layon,Macduff!
Chip of the old block! the editor cried, clapping Stephen on the shoulder. Let us go.
Wherearethoseblastedkeys?
Hefumbledinhispocketpullingoutthecrushedtypesheets.
Foot and mouth. I know. That'll be all right. That'll go in. Where are they? That's all
right.
Hethrustthesheetsbackandwentintotheinneroffice.LETUSHOPE
J.J.O'Molloy,abouttofollowhimin,saidquietlytoStephen:
Ihopeyouwilllivetoseeitpublished.Myles,onemoment.
Hewentintotheinneroffice,closingthedoorbehindhim.
Comealong,Stephen,theprofessorsaid.Thatisfine,isn'tit?Ithasthepropheticvision.
Fuit Ilium! The sack of windy Troy. Kingdoms of this world. The masters of the
Mediterraneanarefellaheentoday.
The first newsboy came pattering down the stairs at their heels and rushed out into the
street,yelling:
Racingspecial!
Dublin.Ihavemuch,muchtolearn.
TheyturnedtotheleftalongAbbeystreet.
Ihaveavisiontoo,Stephensaid.
Yes?theprofessorsaid,skippingtogetintostep.Crawfordwillfollow.
Anothernewsboyshotpastthem,yellingasheran:
Racingspecial!
DEARDIRTYDUBLIN
Dubliners.
TwoDublinvestals,Stephensaid,elderlyandpious,havelivedfiftyandfiftythreeyears
inFumbally'slane.
Whereisthat?theprofessorasked.
OffBlackpitts,Stephensaid.
Damp night reeking of hungry dough. Against the wall. Face glistering tallow under her
fustianshawl.Frantichearts.Akasicrecords.Quicker,darlint!
Onnow.Dareit.Lettherebelife.
TheywanttoseetheviewsofDublinfromthetopofNelson'spillar.Theysaveupthree
and tenpence in a red tin letterbox moneybox. They shake out the threepenny bits and
sixpencesandcoaxoutthepennieswiththebladeofaknife.Twoandthreeinsilverandone
andsevenincoppers.Theyputontheirbonnetsandbestclothesandtaketheirumbrellasfor
fearitmaycomeontorain.
Wisevirgins,professorMacHughsaid.
LIFEONTHERAW
Theybuyoneandfourpenceworthofbrawnandfourslicesofpanloafatthenorthcity
diningroomsinMarlboroughstreetfromMissKateCollins,proprietress...Theypurchasefour
and twenty ripe plums from a girl at the foot of Nelson's pillar to take off the thirst of the
brawn.They give two threepenny bits to the gentleman at the turnstile and begin towaddle
slowlyupthewindingstaircase,grunting,encouragingeachother,afraidofthedark,panting,
oneaskingtheotherhaveyouthebrawn,praisingGodandtheBlessedVirgin,threateningto
comedown,peepingattheairslits.GlorybetoGod.Theyhadnoideaitwasthathigh.

Their names are Anne Kearns and Florence MacCabe. Anne Kearns has the lumbagofor
whichsherubsonLourdeswater,givenherbyaladywhogotabottlefulfromapassionist
father.FlorenceMacCabetakesacrubeenandabottleofdoubleXforsuppereverySaturday.
Antithesis, the professor said nodding twice. Vestal virgins. I can see them. What's
keepingourfriend?
Heturned.
Abevyofscamperingnewsboysrusheddownthesteps,scatteringinalldirections,yelling,
theirwhitepapersfluttering.HardafterthemMylesCrawfordappearedonthesteps,hishat
aureolinghisscarletface,talkingwithJ.J.O'Molloy.
Comealong,theprofessorcried,wavinghisarm.
HesetoffagaintowalkbyStephen'sside.RETURNOFBLOOM
Yes,hesaid.Iseethem.
Mr Bloom, breathless, caught in a whirl of wild newsboys near the offices of the Irish
CatholicandDublinPennyJournal,called:
MrCrawford!Amoment!
Telegraph!Racingspecial!
Whatisit?MylesCrawfordsaid,fallingbackapace.
AnewsboycriedinMrBloom'sface:
TerribletragedyinRathmines!Achildbitbyabellows!
INTERVIEWWITHTHEEDITOR
Justthisad,MrBloomsaid,pushingthroughtowardsthesteps,puffing,andtakingthe
cuttingfromhispocket.IspokewithMrKeyesjustnow.He'llgivearenewalfortwomonths,
hesays.Afterhe'llsee.ButhewantsapartocallattentionintheTelegraphtoo,theSaturday
pink.Andhewantsitcopiedifit'snottoolateItoldcouncillorNannettifromtheKilkenny
People.Icanhaveaccesstoitinthenationallibrary.Houseofkeys,don'tyousee?Hisname
isKeyes.It'saplayonthename.Buthepracticallypromisedhe'dgivetherenewal.Buthe
wantsjustalittlepuff.WhatwillItellhim,MrCrawford?K.M.A.
Will you tell him he can kiss my arse? Myles Crawford said throwing out his arm for
emphasis.Tellhimthatstraightfromthestable.
Abitnervy.Lookoutforsqualls.Alloffforadrink.Arminarm.Lenehan'syachtingcap
onthecadgebeyond.Usualblarney.WonderisthatyoungDedalusthemovingspirit.Hasa
goodpairofbootsonhimtoday.LasttimeIsawhimhehadhisheelsonview.Beenwalking
inmucksomewhere.Carelesschap.WhatwashedoinginIrishtown?
Well, Mr Bloom said, his eyes returning, if I can get the design I suppose it's worth a
shortpar.He'dgivethead,Ithink.I'lltellhim...K.M.R.I.A.
He can kiss my royal Irish arse, Myles Crawford cried loudly over his shoulder. Any
timehelikes,tellhim.
WhileMrBloomstoodweighingthepointandabouttosmilehestrodeonjerkily.
RAISINGTHEWIND
Nullabona,Jack,hesaid,raisinghishandtohischin.I'muptohere.I'vebeenthrough
thehoopmyself.Iwaslookingforafellowtobackabillformenolaterthanlastweek.Sorry,
Jack.Youmusttakethe will for the deed. With a heart and a half if I could raise the wind
anyhow.
J.J.O'Molloypulledalongfaceandwalkedonsilently.Theycaughtupontheothersand
walkedabreast.
When they have eaten the brawn and the bread and wiped their twenty fingers in the
paperthebreadwaswrappedintheygonearertotherailings.
Somethingforyou,theprofessorexplainedtoMylesCrawford.TwooldDublinwomen
onthetopofNelson'spillar.

SOMECOLUMN!THAT'SWHATWADDLERONESAID
That's new, Myles Crawford said. That's copy. Out for the waxies Dargle. Two old
trickies,what?
But they are afraid the pillar will fall, Stephen went on. They see the roofs and argue
about where the different churches are: Rathmines' blue dome, Adam and Eve's, saint
LaurenceO'Toole's.Butitmakesthemgiddytolooksotheypulluptheirskirts...
THOSESLIGHTLYRAMBUNCTIOUSFEMALES
Easyall,MylesCrawfordsaid.Nopoeticlicence.We'reinthearchdiocesehere.
And settle down on their striped petticoats, peering up at the statue of the onehandled
adulterer.
Onehandledadulterer!theprofessorcried.Ilikethat.Iseetheidea.Iseewhatyoumean.
DAMES DONATE DUBLIN'S CITS SPEEDPILLS VELOCITOUS AEROLITHS,
BELIEF
It gives them a crick in their necks, Stephen said, and they are too tired to look up or
downortospeak.Theyputthebagofplumsbetweenthemandeattheplumsoutofit,one
after another, wiping off with their handkerchiefs the plumjuice that dribbles out of their
mouthsandspittingtheplumstonesslowlyoutbetweentherailings.
Hegaveasuddenloudyounglaughasaclose.LenehanandMrO'MaddenBurke,hearing,
turned,beckonedandledonacrosstowardsMooney's.
Finished?MylesCrawfordsaid.Solongastheydonoworse.
SOPHIST WALLOPS HAUGHTY HELEN SQUARE ON PROBOSCIS. SPARTANS
GNASHMOLARS.ITHACANSVOWPENISCHAMP.
YouremindmeofAntisthenes,theprofessorsaid,adiscipleofGorgias,thesophist.Itis
saidofhimthatnonecouldtellifhewerebittereragainstothersoragainsthimself.Hewas
thesonofanobleandabondwoman.Andhewroteabookinwhichhetookawaythepalmof
beautyfromArgiveHelenandhandedittopoorPenelope.
PoorPenelope.PenelopeRich.
TheymadereadytocrossO'Connellstreet.
HELLOTHERE,CENTRAL!
At various points along the eight lines tramcars with motionless trolleys stood in their
tracks, bound for or from Rathmines, Rathfarnham, Blackrock, Kingstown and Dalkey,
Sandymount Green, Ringsend and Sandymount Tower, Donnybrook, Palmerston Park and
UpperRathmines,allstill,becalmedinshortcircuit.Hackneycars,cabs,deliverywaggons,
mailvans, private broughams, aerated mineral water floats with rattling crates of bottles,
rattled,rolled,horsedrawn,rapidly.
WHAT?ANDLIKEWISEWHERE?
Butwhatdoyoucallit?MylesCrawfordasked.Wheredidtheygettheplums?
VIRGILIAN,SAYSPEDAGOGUE.SOPHOMOREPLUMPSFOROLDMANMOSES.
Callit,wait,theprofessorsaid,openinghislonglipswidetoreflect.Callit,letmesee.
Callit:deusnobishaecotiafecit.
No,Stephensaid.IcallitAPisgahSightofPalestineortheParableofThePlums.
Isee,theprofessorsaid.
Helaughedrichly.
Isee,hesaidagainwithnewpleasure.Mosesandthepromisedland.Wegavehimthat
idea,headdedtoJ.J.O'Molloy.
HORATIOISCYNOSURETHISFAIRJUNEDAY
J.J.O'Molloysentawearysidelongglancetowardsthestatueandheldhispeace.
Isee,theprofessorsaid.

He halted on sir John Gray's pavement island and peered aloft at Nelson through the
meshesofhiswrysmile.
DIMINISHED DIGITS PROVE TOO TITILLATING FOR FRISKY FRUMPS. ANNE
WIMBLES,FLOWANGLESYETCANYOUBLAMETHEM?
Onehandledadulterer,hesaidsmilinggrimly.Thatticklesme,Imustsay.
Tickledtheoldonestoo,MylesCrawfordsaid,iftheGodAlmighty'struthwasknown.
Pineapple rock, lemon platt, butter scotch. A sugarsticky girl shovelling scoopfuls of
creamsforachristianbrother.Someschooltreat.Badfortheirtummies.Lozengeandcomfit
manufacturer to His Majesty the King. God. Save. Our. Sitting on his throne sucking red
jujubeswhite.
A sombre Y.M.C.A. young man, watchful among the warm sweet fumes of Graham
Lemon's,placedathrowawayinahandofMrBloom.
Hearttohearttalks.
Bloo...Me?No.
BloodoftheLamb.
Hisslowfeetwalkedhimriverward,reading.Areyousaved?Allarewashedintheblood
of the lamb. God wants blood victim. Birth, hymen, martyr, war, foundation of a building,
sacrifice, kidney burntoffering, druids' altars. Elijah is coming. Dr John Alexander Dowie
restorerofthechurchinZioniscoming.
Is coming! Is coming!! Is coming!!! All heartily welcome. Paying game. Torry and
Alexanderlastyear.Polygamy.Hiswifewillputthestopperonthat.Wherewasthatadsome
Birminghamfirmtheluminouscrucifix.OurSaviour.Wakeupinthedeadofnightandsee
himonthewall,hanging.Pepper'sghostidea.Ironnailsranin.
Phosphorusitmustbedonewith.Ifyouleaveabitofcodfishforinstance.Icouldseethe
blueysilveroverit.NightIwentdowntothepantryinthekitchen.Don'tlikeallthesmellsin
itwaitingtorushout.Whatwasitshewanted?TheMalagaraisins.ThinkingofSpain.Before
Rudywasborn.Thephosphorescence,thatblueygreeny.Verygoodforthebrain.
FromButler'smonumenthousecornerheglancedalongBachelor'swalk.Dedalus'daughter
there still outside Dillon's auctionrooms. Must be selling off some old furniture. Knew her
eyesatoncefromthefather.Lobbingaboutwaitingforhim.Homealwaysbreaksupwhen
themothergoes.Fifteenchildrenhehad.Birtheveryyearalmost.That'sintheirtheologyor
the priest won't give the poor woman the confession, the absolution. Increase and multiply.
Didyoueverhearsuchanidea?Eatyououtofhouseandhome.Nofamiliesthemselvesto
feed.Livingonthefatoftheland.Theirbutteriesandlarders.I'dliketoseethemdotheblack
fastYomKippur.Crossbuns.Onemealandacollationforfearhe'dcollapseonthealtar.A
housekeeperofoneofthosefellowsifyoucouldpickitoutofher.Neverpickitoutofher.
Likegettingl.s.d.outofhim.Doeshimselfwell.Noguests.Allfornumberone.Watchinghis
water.Bringyourownbreadandbutter.Hisreverence:mum'stheword.
GoodLord,thatpoorchild'sdressisinflitters.Underfedshelookstoo.Potatoesandmarge,
margeandpotatoes.It'saftertheyfeelit.Proofofthepudding.Underminestheconstitution.
As he set foot on O'Connell bridge a puffball of smoke plumed up from the parapet.
Brewerybargewithexportstout.England.Seaairsoursit,Iheard.Beinterestingsomeday
get a pass through Hancock to see the brewery. Regular world in itself. Vats of porter
wonderful.Ratsgetintoo.Drinkthemselvesbloatedasbigasacolliefloating.Deaddrunkon
theporter.Drinktilltheypukeagainlikechristians.Imaginedrinkingthat!Rats:vats.Well,
ofcourse,ifweknewallthethings.
Looking down he saw flapping strongly, wheeling between the gaunt quaywalls, gulls.
Roughweatheroutside.IfIthrewmyselfdown?ReubenJ'ssonmusthaveswallowedagood
bellyfulofthatsewage.Oneandeightpencetoomuch.Hhhhm.It'sthedrollwayhecomesout
withthethings.Knowshowtotellastorytoo.

Theywheeledlower.Lookingforgrub.Wait.
Hethrewdownamongthemacrumpledpaperball.Elijahthirtytwofeetperseciscom.Not
abit.Theballbobbedunheededonthewakeofswells,floatedunderbythebridgepiers.Not
suchdamnfools.AlsothedayIthrewthatstalecakeoutoftheErin'sKingpickeditupinthe
wakefiftyyardsastern.Livebytheirwits.Theywheeled,flapping.
Thehungryfamishedgull
Flapso'erthewatersdull.

That is how poets write, the similar sounds. But then Shakespeare has no rhymes: blank
verse.Theflowofthelanguageitis.Thethoughts.Solemn.
Hamlet,Iamthyfather'sspirit
Doomedforacertaintimetowalktheearth.
Twoapplesapenny!Twoforapenny!

Hisgazepassedovertheglazedapplesserriedonherstand.Australianstheymustbethis
timeofyear.Shinypeels:polishesthemupwitharagorahandkerchief.
Wait.Thosepoorbirds.
HehaltedagainandboughtfromtheoldapplewomantwoBanburycakesforapennyand
broke the brittle paste and threw its fragments down into the Liffey. See that? The gulls
swoopedsilently,two,thenallfromtheirheights,pouncingonprey.Gone.Everymorsel.
Awareoftheirgreedandcunningheshookthepowderycrumbfromhishands.Theynever
expectedthat.Manna.Liveonfish,fishyfleshtheyhave,allseabirds,gulls,seagoose.Swans
fromAnnaLiffeyswimdownheresometimestopreenthemselves.Noaccountingfortastes.
Wonderwhatkindisswanmeat.RobinsonCrusoehadtoliveonthem.
Theywheeledflappingweakly.I'mnotgoingtothrowanymore.Pennyquiteenough.Lot
ofthanksIget.Notevenacaw.Theyspreadfootandmouthdiseasetoo.Ifyoucramaturkey
sayonchestnutmealittasteslikethat.Eatpiglikepig.Butthenwhyisitthatsaltwaterfish
arenotsalty?Howisthat?
His eyes sought answer from the river and saw a rowboat rock at anchor on the treacly
swellslazilyitsplasteredboard.
Kino's11/Trousers
Goodideathat.Wonderifhepaysrenttothecorporation.Howcanyouownwaterreally?
It'salwaysflowinginastream,neverthesame,whichinthestreamoflifewetrace.Because
lifeisastream.Allkindsofplacesaregoodforads.Thatquackdoctorfortheclapusedtobe
stuckupinallthegreenhouses.Neverseeitnow.Strictlyconfidential.DrHyFranks.Didn't
costhimaredlikeMaginnithedancingmasterselfadvertisement.Gotfellowstostickthem
up or stick them up himself for that matter on the q. t. running in to loosen a button.
Flybynight.Justtheplacetoo.POSTNOBILLS.POST110PILLS.Somechapwithadose
burninghim.
Ifhe...?
O!
Eh?
No...No.
No,no.Idon'tbelieveit.Hewouldn'tsurely?
No,no.
MrBloommovedforward,raisinghistroubledeyes.Thinknomoreaboutthat.Afterone.
Timeball on the ballastoffice is down. Dunsink time. Fascinating little book that is of sir
Robert Ball's. Parallax. I never exactly understood. There's a priest. Could ask him. Par it's
Greek: parallel, parallax. Met him pike hoses she called it till I told her about the
transmigration.Orocks!
MrBloomsmiledOrocksattwowindowsoftheballastoffice.She'srightafterall.Only

bigwordsforordinarythingsonaccountofthesound.She'snotexactlywitty.Canberude
too.BlurtoutwhatIwasthinking.Still,Idon'tknow.SheusedtosayBenDollardhadabase
barreltonevoice.Hehaslegslikebarrelsandyou'dthinkhewassingingintoabarrel.Now,
isn'tthatwit.TheyusedtocallhimbigBen.Nothalfaswittyascallinghimbasebarreltone.
Appetite like analbatross. Get outside of a baron of beef. Powerful man he was at stowing
awaynumberoneBass.BarrelofBass.See?Itallworksout.
Aprocessionofwhitesmockedsandwichmenmarchedslowlytowardshimalongthegutter,
scarlet sashes across their boards. Bargains. Like that priest theyarethis morning:wehave
sinned:wehavesuffered.Hereadthescarletlettersontheirfivetallwhitehats:H.E.L.Y.S.
WisdomHely's.Ylaggingbehinddrewachunkofbreadfromunderhisforeboard,crammed
itintohismouthandmunchedashewalked.Ourstaplefood.Threebobaday,walkingalong
thegutters,streetafterstreet.Justkeepskinandbonetogether,breadandskilly.Theyarenot
Boyl: no, M Glade's men. Doesn't bring in any business either. I suggested to him about a
transparentshowcartwithtwosmartgirlssittinginsidewritingletters,copybooks,envelopes,
blottingpaper.Ibetthatwouldhavecaughton.Smartgirlswritingsomethingcatchtheeyeat
once.Everyonedyingtoknowwhatshe'swriting.Gettwentyofthemroundyouifyoustare
atnothing.Haveafingerinthepie.Womentoo.Curiosity.Pillarofsalt.Wouldn'thaveitof
coursebecausehedidn'tthinkofithimselffirst.OrtheinkbottleIsuggestedwithafalsestain
of black celluloid. His ideas for ads like Plumtree's potted under the obituaries, cold meat
department. You can't lick 'em. What? Our envelopes. Hello, Jones, where are you going?
Can'tstop,Robinson,IamhasteningtopurchasetheonlyreliableinkeraserKansell,soldby
Hely's Ltd, 85 Dame street. Well out of that ruck I am. Devil of a job it was collecting
accountsofthoseconvents.Tranquillaconvent.Thatwasanicenunthere,reallysweetface.
Wimplesuitedhersmallhead.Sister?Sister?Iamsureshewascrossedinlovebyhereyes.
Veryhardtobargainwiththatsortofawoman.Idisturbedheratherdevotionsthatmorning.
Butgladtocommunicatewiththeoutsideworld.Ourgreatday,shesaid.FeastofOurLady
ofMountCarmel.Sweetnametoo:caramel.SheknewI,Ithinksheknewbythewayshe.If
shehadmarriedshewouldhavechanged.Isupposethey really were short of money. Fried
everythinginthebestbutterallthesame.Nolardforthem.Myheart'sbrokeeatingdripping.
Theylikebutteringthemselvesinandout.Mollytastingit,herveilup.Sister?PatClaffey,the
pawnbroker'sdaughter.Itwasanuntheysayinventedbarbedwire.
He crossed Westmoreland street when apostrophe S had plodded by. Rover cycleshop.
Thoseracesareontoday.Howlongagoisthat?YearPhilGilligandied.WewereinLombard
streetwest.Wait:wasinThom's.GotthejobinWisdomHely'syearwemarried.Sixyears.
Tenyearsago:ninetyfourhediedyesthat'srightthebigfireatArnott's.ValDillonwaslord
mayor. The Glencree dinner. Alderman Robert O'Reilly emptying the port into his soup
before the flag fell. Bobbob lapping it for the inner alderman. Couldn't hear what the band
played.Forwhatwehavealreadyreceived maythe Lordmake us.Milly was a kiddythen.
Molly had that elephantgrey dress with the braided frogs. Mantailored with selfcovered
buttons.Shedidn'tlikeitbecauseIsprainedmyanklefirstdaysheworechoirpicnicatthe
Sugarloaf.Asifthat.OldGoodwin'stallhatdoneupwithsomestickystuff.Flies'picnictoo.
Never put a dress on her back like it. Fitted her like a glove, shoulders and hips. Just
beginningtoplumpitoutwell.Rabbitpiewehadthatday.Peoplelookingafterher.
Happy.Happierthen.Snuglittleroomthatwaswiththeredwallpaper.Dockrell's,oneand
ninepenceadozen.Milly'stubbingnight.AmericansoapIbought:elderflower.Cosysmellof
herbathwater.Funnyshelookedsoapedallover.Shapelytoo.Nowphotography.Poorpapa's
daguerreotypeatelierhetoldmeof.Hereditarytaste.
Hewalkedalongthecurbstone.
Stream of life. What was the name of that priestylooking chap was always squinting in
when he passed? Weak eyes, woman. Stopped in Citron's saint Kevin's parade. Pen
something.Pendennis?Mymemoryisgetting.Pen...?Ofcourseit'syearsago.Noiseofthe
tramsprobably.Well,ifhecouldn'trememberthedayfather'snamethatheseeseveryday.
Bartell d'Arcy was the tenor, just coming out then. Seeing her home after practice.

Conceitedfellowwithhiswaxedupmoustache.GaveherthatsongWindsthatblowfromthe
south.
WindynightthatwasIwenttofetchhertherewasthatlodgemeetingonaboutthoselottery
ticketsafterGoodwin'sconcertinthesupperroomoroakroomoftheMansionhouse.HeandI
behind. Sheet of her music blew out of my hand against the High school railings. Lucky it
didn't. Thing like that spoils the effect of a night for her. Professor Goodwin linking her in
front.Shakyonhispins,pooroldsot.Hisfarewellconcerts.Positivelylastappearanceonany
stage. May be for months and may be for never. Remember her laughing at the wind, her
blizzardcollarup.CornerofHarcourtroadrememberthatgust.Brrfoo!Blewupallherskirts
andherboanearlysmotheredoldGoodwin.Shedidgetflushedinthewind.Rememberwhen
wegothomerakingupthefireandfryingupthosepiecesoflapofmuttonforhersupperwith
the Chutney sauce she liked. And the mulled rum. Could see her in the bedroom from the
hearthunclampingthebuskofherstays:white.
Swishandsoftflopherstaysmadeonthebed.Alwayswarmfromher.Alwayslikedtolet
her self out. Sitting there after till near two taking out her hairpins. Milly tucked up in
beddyhouse.Happy.Happy.Thatwasthenight...
O,MrBloom,howdoyoudo?
O,howdoyoudo,MrsBreen?
Nousecomplaining.HowisMollythosetimes?Haven'tseenherforages.
Inthepink,MrBloomsaidgaily.MillyhasapositiondowninMullingar,youknow.
Goaway!Isn'tthatgrandforher?
Yes.Inaphotographer'sthere.Gettingonlikeahouseonfire.Howareallyourcharges?
Allonthebaker'slist,MrsBreensaid.
Howmanyhasshe?Nootherinsight.
You'reinblack,Isee.Youhaveno...
No,MrBloomsaid.Ihavejustcomefromafuneral.
Goingtocropupallday,Iforesee.Who'sdead,whenandwhatdidhedieof?Turnuplike
abadpenny.
O,dearme,MrsBreensaid.Ihopeitwasn'tanynearrelation.
Mayaswellgethersympathy.
Dignam, Mr Bloom said. An old friend of mine. He died quite suddenly, poor fellow.
Hearttrouble,Ibelieve.Funeralwasthismorning.
Your funeral's tomorrow While you're coming through the rye. Diddlediddle dumdum
Diddlediddle...
Sadtolosetheoldfriends,MrsBreen'swomaneyessaidmelancholily.
Nowthat'squiteenoughaboutthat.Just:quietly:husband.
Andyourlordandmaster?
MrsBreenturneduphertwolargeeyes.Hasn'tlostthemanyhow.
O,don'tbetalking!shesaid.He'sacautiontorattlesnakes.He'sin there now with his
lawbooksfindingoutthelawoflibel.Hehasmeheartscalded.WaittillIshowyou.
Hot mockturtle vapour and steam of newbaked jampuffs rolypoly poured out from
Harrison's. The heavy noonreek tickled the top of Mr Bloom's gullet. Want to make good
pastry,butter,bestflour,Demerarasugar,orthey'dtasteitwiththehottea.Orisitfromher?
A barefoot arab stood over the grating, breathing in the fumes. Deaden the gnaw of hunger
thatway.Pleasureorpainisit?Pennydinner.Knifeandforkchainedtothetable.
Openingherhandbag,chippedleather.Hatpin:oughttohaveaguardonthosethings.Stick
itinachap'seyeinthetram.Rummaging.Open.Money.Pleasetakeone.Devilsiftheylose
sixpence.RaiseCain.Husbandbarging.Where'sthetenshillingsIgaveyouonMonday?Are
youfeedingyourlittlebrother'sfamily?Soiledhandkerchief:medicinebottle.Pastillethatwas

fell.Whatisshe?...
Theremustbeanewmoonout,shesaid.He'salwaysbadthen.Doyouknowwhathe
didlastnight?
Her hand ceased to rummage. Her eyes fixed themselves on him, wide in alarm, yet
smiling.
What?MrBloomasked.
Letherspeak.Lookstraightinhereyes.Ibelieveyou.Trustme.
Wokemeupinthenight,shesaid.Dreamhehad,anightmare.
Indiges.
Saidtheaceofspadeswaswalkingupthestairs.
Theaceofspades!MrBloomsaid.
Shetookafoldedpostcardfromherhandbag.
Readthat,shesaid.Hegotitthismorning.
Whatisit?MrBloomasked,takingthecard.U.P.?
U.P.:up,shesaid.Someonetakingariseoutofhim.It'sagreatshameforthemwhoever
heis.
Indeeditis,MrBloomsaid.
Shetookbackthecard,sighing.
And now he's going round to Mr Menton's office. He's going to take an action for ten
thousandpounds,hesays.
Shefoldedthecardintoheruntidybagandsnappedthecatch.
Samebluesergedressshehadtwoyearsago,thenapbleaching.Seenitsbestdays.Wispish
hairoverherears.Andthatdowdytoque:threeoldgrapestotaketheharmoutofit.Shabby
genteel.Sheusedtobeatastydresser.Linesroundhermouth.Onlyayearorsoolderthan
Molly.
Seetheeyethatwomangaveher,passing.Cruel.Theunfairsex.
He looked still at her, holding back behind his look his discontent. Pungent mockturtle
oxtail mulligatawny. I'm hungry too. Flakes of pastry on the gusset of her dress: daub of
sugary flour stuck to her cheek. Rhubarb tart with liberal fillings, rich fruit interior. Josie
Powellthatwas.InLukeDoyle'slongago.Dolphin'sBarn,thecharades.U.P.:up.
Changethesubject.
DoyoueverseeanythingofMrsBeaufoy?MrBloomasked.
MinaPurefoy?shesaid.
PhilipBeaufoyIwasthinking.Playgoers'Club.Matchamoftenthinksofthemasterstroke.
DidIpullthechain?Yes.Thelastact.
Yes.
Ijustcalledtoaskonthewayinissheoverit.She'sinthelyinginhospitalinHolles
street.DrHornegotherin.She'sthreedaysbadnow.
O,MrBloomsaid.I'msorrytohearthat.
Yes,MrsBreensaid.Andahousefulofkidsathome.It'saverystiffbirth,thenursetold
me.
O,MrBloomsaid.
Hisheavypityinggazeabsorbedhernews.Histongueclackedincompassion.Dth!Dth!
I'msorrytohearthat,hesaid.Poorthing!Threedays!That'sterribleforher.
MrsBreennodded.
ShewastakenbadontheTuesday...
MrBloomtouchedherfunnybonegently,warningher:

Mind!Letthismanpass.
A bony form strode along the curbstone from the river staring with a rapt gaze into the
sunlightthroughaheavystringedglass.Tightasaskullpieceatinyhatgrippedhishead.From
hisarmafoldeddustcoat,astickandanumbrelladangledtohisstride.
Watchhim,MrBloomsaid.Healwayswalksoutsidethelampposts.Watch!
Whoisheifit'safairquestion?MrsBreenasked.Ishedotty?
HisnameisCashelBoyleO'ConnorFitzmauriceTisdallFarrell,MrBloomsaidsmiling.
Watch!
Hehasenoughofthem,shesaid.Deniswillbelikethatoneofthesedays.
Shebrokeoffsuddenly.
Thereheis,shesaid.Imustgoafterhim.Goodbye.RemembermetoMolly,won'tyou?
Iwill,MrBloomsaid.
He watched her dodge through passers towards the shopfronts. Denis Breen in skimpy
frockcoat and blue canvas shoes shuffled out of Harrison's hugging two heavy tomes to his
ribs.Blowninfromthebay.Likeoldtimes.Hesufferedhertoovertakehimwithoutsurprise
andthrusthisdullgreybeardtowardsher,hisloosejawwaggingashespokeearnestly.
Meshuggah.Offhischump.
MrBloomwalkedonagaineasily,seeingaheadofhiminsunlightthetightskullpiece,the
danglingstickumbrelladustcoat.Goingthetwodays.Watchhim!Outhegoesagain.Oneway
ofgettingonintheworld.Andthatotheroldmoseylunaticinthoseduds.Hardtimeshemust
havewithhim.
U.P.:up.I'lltakemyoaththat'sAlfBerganorRichieGoulding.Wroteitforalarkinthe
ScotchhouseIbetanything.RoundtoMenton'soffice.Hisoystereyesstaringatthepostcard.
Beafeastforthegods.
HepassedtheIrishTimes.TheremightbeotheranswersIyingthere.Liketoanswerthem
all.Goodsystemforcriminals.Code.Attheirlunchnow.Clerkwiththeglassestheredoesn't
knowme.O,leavethemtheretosimmer.Enoughbotherwadingthroughfortyfourofthem.
Wanted, smart lady typist to aid gentleman in literary work. I called you naughty darling
becauseIdonotlikethatotherworld.Pleasetellmewhatisthemeaning.Pleasetellmewhat
perfumedoesyourwife.Tellmewhomadetheworld.Thewaytheyspringthosequestions
onyou.AndtheotheroneLizzieTwigg.Myliteraryeffortshavehadthegoodfortunetomeet
withtheapprovaloftheeminentpoetA.E.(MrGeo.Russell).Notimetodoherhairdrinking
sloppyteawithabookofpoetry.
Bestpaperbylongchalksforasmallad.Gottheprovincesnow.Cookandgeneral,exc.
cuisine,housemaidkept.Wantedlivemanforspiritcounter.Resp.girl(R.C.)wishestohear
ofpostinfruitorporkshop.JamesCarlislemadethat.Sixandahalfpercentdividend.Made
abigdealonCoates'sshares.Ca'canny.CunningoldScotchhunks.Allthetoadynews.Our
gracious and popular vicereine. Bought the Irish Field now. Lady Mountcashel has quite
recovered after her confinement and rode out with the Ward Union staghounds at the
enlargementyesterdayatRathoath.Uneatablefox.Pothunterstoo.Fearinjectsjuicesmakeit
tenderenoughforthem.Ridingastride.Sitherhorselikeaman.Weightcarryinghuntress.No
sidesaddle or pillion for her, not for Joe. First to the meet and in at the death. Strong as a
broodmaresomeofthosehorseywomen.Swaggeraroundliverystables.Tossoffaglassof
brandyneatwhileyou'dsayknife.ThatoneattheGrosvenorthismorning.Upwithheronthe
car:wishswish.Stonewallorfivebarredgateputhermounttoit.Thinkthatpugnoseddriver
diditoutofspite.Whoisthisshewaslike?Oyes!MrsMiriamDandradethatsoldmeherold
wraps and black underclothes in the Shelbourne hotel. Divorced Spanish American. Didn't
take a feather out of her my handling them. As if I was her clotheshorse. Saw her in the
viceregal party when Stubbs the park ranger got me in with Whelan of the Express.
Scavengingwhatthequalityleft.Hightea.MayonnaiseIpouredontheplumsthinkingitwas
custard.Herearsoughttohavetingledforafewweeksafter.Wanttobeabullforher.Born

courtesan.Nonurseryworkforher,thanks.
PoorMrsPurefoy!Methodisthusband.Methodinhismadness.Saffronbunandmilkand
sodalunchintheeducationaldairy.Y.M.C.A.Eatingwithastopwatch,thirtytwochewsto
the minute. And still his muttonchop whiskers grew. Supposed to be well connected.
Theodore's cousin in Dublin Castle. One tony relative in every family. Hardy annuals he
presentsherwith.SawhimoutattheThreeJollyTopersmarchingalongbareheadedandhis
eldest boy carrying one in a marketnet. The squallers. Poor thing! Then having to give the
breastyearafteryearallhoursofthenight.Selfishthoset.t'sare.Doginthemanger.Only
onelumpofsugarinmytea,ifyouplease.
HestoodatFleetstreetcrossing.Luncheoninterval.AsixpennyatRowe's?Mustlookup
thatadinthenationallibrary.AneightpennyintheBurton.Better.Onmyway.
He walked on past Bolton's Westmoreland house. Tea. Tea. Tea. I forgot to tap Tom
Kernan.
Sss. Dth, dth, dth! Three days imagine groaning on a bed with a vinegared handkerchief
round her forehead, her belly swollen out. Phew! Dreadful simply! Child's head too big:
forceps.Doubledupinsidehertryingtobuttitswayoutblindly,gropingforthewayout.Kill
me that would. Lucky Molly got over hers lightly. They ought to invent something to stop
that.Lifewithhardlabour.Twilightsleepidea:queenVictoriawasgiventhat.Nineshehad.
A good layer. Old woman that lived in a shoe she had so many children. Suppose he was
consumptive. Time someone thought about it instead of gassing about the what was it the
pensivebosomofthesilvereffulgence.Flapdoodletofeedfoolson.Theycouldeasilyhave
bigestablishmentswholethingquitepainlessoutofallthetaxesgiveeverychild born five
quid at compound interest up to twentyone five per cent is a hundred shillings and five
tiresomepoundsmultiplybytwentydecimalsystemencouragepeopletoputbymoneysave
hundredandtenandabittwentyoneyearswanttoworkitoutonpapercometoatidysum
morethanyouthink.
Notstillbornofcourse.Theyarenotevenregistered.Troublefornothing.
Funny sight two of them together, their bellies out. Molly and Mrs Moisel. Mothers'
meeting.Phthisisretiresforthetimebeing,thenreturns.Howflattheylookallofasudden
after.Peacefuleyes.Weightofftheirmind. Old Mrs Thornton was a jolly old soul. All my
babies,shesaid.Thespoonofpapinhermouthbeforeshefedthem.O,that'snyumnyum.Got
her hand crushed by old Tom Wall's son. His first bow to the public. Head like a prize
pumpkin. Snuffy Dr Murren. People knocking them up at all hours. For God' sake, doctor.
Wifeinherthroes.Thenkeepthemwaitingmonthsfortheirfee.Toattendanceonyourwife.
Nogratitudeinpeople.Humanedoctors,mostofthem.
BeforethehugehighdooroftheIrishhouseofparliamentaflockofpigeonsflew.Their
littlefrolicaftermeals.Whowillwedoiton?Ipickthefellowinblack.Heregoes.Here's
goodluck.Mustbethrillingfromtheair.Apjohn,myselfandOwenGoldbergupinthetrees
nearGoosegreenplayingthemonkeys.Mackereltheycalledme.
AsquadofconstablesdebouchedfromCollegestreet,marchinginIndianfile.Goosestep.
Foodheated faces, sweating helmets, patting their truncheons. After their feed with a good
loadoffatsoupundertheirbelts.Policeman'slotisoftahappyone.Theysplitupingroups
and scattered, saluting, towards their beats. Let out to graze. Best moment to attack one in
puddingtime.Apunchinhisdinner.Asquadofothers,marchingirregularly,roundedTrinity
railingsmakingforthestation.Boundfortheirtroughs.Preparetoreceivecavalry.Prepareto
receivesoup.
He crossed under Tommy Moore's roguish finger. They did right to put him up over a
urinal:meetingofthewaters.Oughttobeplacesforwomen.Runningintocakeshops.Settle
myhatstraight.Thereisnotinthiswideworldavallee.GreatsongofJuliaMorkan's.Kept
hervoiceuptotheverylast.PupilofMichaelBalfe's,wasn'tshe?
He gazed after the last broad tunic. Nasty customers to tackle. Jack Power could a tale
unfold:fatheraGman.Ifafellowgavethemtroublebeinglaggedtheylethimhaveithotand

heavyinthebridewell.Can'tblamethemafterallwiththejobtheyhaveespeciallytheyoung
hornies.ThathorsepolicemanthedayJoeChamberlainwasgivenhisdegreeinTrinityhegot
arunforhismoney.Mywordhedid!Hishorse'shoofsclatteringafterusdownAbbeystreet.
Lucky I had the presence of mind to dive into Manning's or I was souped. He did come a
wallop, by George. Must have cracked his skull on the cobblestones. I oughtn't to have got
myselfsweptalongwiththosemedicals.AndtheTrinityjibsintheirmortarboards.Looking
fortrouble.StillIgottoknowthatyoungDixonwhodressedthatstingformeintheMater
andnowhe'sinHollesstreetwhereMrsPurefoy.Wheelswithinwheels.Policewhistleinmy
earsstill.Allskedaddled.Whyhefixedonme.Givemeincharge.Righthereitbegan.
UptheBoers!
ThreecheersforDeWet!
We'llhangJoeChamberlainonasourappletree.
Sillybillies:mobofyoungcubsyellingtheirgutsout.Vinegarhill.TheButterexchange
band. Few years' time half of them magistrates and civil servants. War comes on: into the
armyhelterskelter:samefellowsusedto.Whetheronthescaffoldhigh.
Neverknowwhoyou'retalkingto.CornyKelleherhehasHarveyDuffinhiseye.Likethat
Peter or Denis or James Carey that blew the gaff on the invincibles. Member of the
corporationtoo.Eggingrawyouthsontogetintheknowallthetimedrawingsecretservice
pay from the castle. Drop him like a hot potato. Why those plainclothes men are always
courtingslaveys.Easily twig a man used to uniform. Squarepushing up against a backdoor.
Maulherabit.Thenthenextthingonthemenu.Andwhoisthegentlemandoesbevisiting
there? Was the young master saying anything? Peeping Tom through the keyhole. Decoy
duck.Hotbloodedyoungstudentfoolingroundherfatarmsironing.
Arethoseyours,Mary?
Idon'twearsuchthings...StoporI'lltellthemissusonyou.Outhalfthenight.
Therearegreattimescoming,Mary.Waittillyousee.
Ah,gelongwithyourgreattimescoming.
Barmaidstoo.Tobaccoshopgirls.
JamesStephens'ideawasthebest.Heknewthem.Circlesoftensothatafellowcouldn't
roundonmorethanhisownring.SinnFein.Backoutyougettheknife.Hiddenhand.Stayin.
Thefiringsquad.Turnkey'sdaughtergothimoutofRichmond,offfromLusk.Puttingupin
theBuckinghamPalacehotelundertheirverynoses.Garibaldi.
Youmusthaveacertainfascination:Parnell.ArthurGriffithisasquareheadedfellowbut
hehasnogoinhimforthemob.Orgasaboutourlovelyland.Gammonandspinach.Dublin
Bakery Company's tearoom. Debating societies. That republicanism is the best form of
government. That the language question should take precedence of the economic question.
Have your daughters inveigling them to your house. Stuff them up with meat and drink.
Michaelmas goose. Here's a good lump of thyme seasoning under the apron for you. Have
another quart of goosegrease before it gets too cold. Halffed enthusiasts. Penny roll and a
walkwiththeband.Nograceforthecarver.Thethoughtthattheotherchappaysbestsauce
in the world. Make themselves thoroughly at home. Show us over those apricots, meaning
peaches.Thenotfardistantday.Homerulesunrisingupinthenorthwest.
His smile faded as he walked, a heavy cloud hiding the sun slowly, shadowing Trinity's
surlyfront.Tramspassedoneanother,ingoing,outgoing,clanging.Uselesswords.Thingsgo
onsame,dayafterday:squadsofpolicemarchingout,back:tramsin,out.Thosetwoloonies
moochingabout.Dignamcartedoff.MinaPurefoyswollenbellyonabedgroaningtohavea
childtuggedoutofher.Oneborneverysecondsomewhere.Otherdyingeverysecond.SinceI
fed the birds five minutes. Three hundred kicked the bucket. Other three hundred born,
washingthebloodoff,allarewashedinthebloodofthelamb,bawlingmaaaaaa.
Cityfulpassingaway,othercityfulcoming,passingawaytoo:othercomingon,passingon.
Houses,linesofhouses,streets,milesofpavements,piledupbricks,stones.Changinghands.

This owner, that. Landlord never dies they say. Other steps into his shoes when he gets his
noticetoquit.Theybuytheplaceupwithgoldandstilltheyhaveallthegold.Swindleinit
somewhere.Piledupincities,wornawayageafterage.Pyramidsinsand.Builtonbreadand
onions.SlavesChinesewall.Babylon.Bigstonesleft.Roundtowers.Restrubble,sprawling
suburbs,jerrybuilt.Kerwan'smushroomhousesbuiltofbreeze.Shelter,forthenight.
Nooneisanything.
Thisistheveryworsthouroftheday.Vitality.Dull,gloomy:hatethishour.FeelasifIhad
beeneatenandspewed.
Provost's house. The reverend Dr Salmon: tinned salmon. Well tinned in there. Like a
mortuarychapel.Wouldn'tliveinitiftheypaidme.Hopetheyhaveliverandbacontoday.
Natureabhorsavacuum.
ThesunfreeditselfslowlyandlitglintsoflightamongthesilverwareoppositeinWalter
Sexton'swindowbywhichJohnHowardParnellpassed,unseeing.
There he is: the brother. Image of him. Haunting face. Now that's a coincidence. Course
hundredsoftimesyouthinkofapersonanddon'tmeethim.Likeamanwalkinginhissleep.
Nooneknowshim.Mustbeacorporationmeetingtoday.Theysayheneverputonthecity
marshal'suniformsincehegotthejob.CharleyKavanaghusedtocomeoutonhishighhorse,
cockedhat,puffed,powderedandshaved.Lookatthewoebegonewalkofhim.Eatenabad
egg. Poached eyes on ghost. I have a pain. Great man's brother: his brother's brother. He'd
lookniceonthecitycharger.DropintotheD.B.C.probablyforhiscoffee,playchessthere.
Hisbrotherusedmenaspawns.Letthemallgotopot.Afraidtopassaremarkonhim.Freeze
themupwiththateyeofhis.That'sthefascination:thename.Allabittouched.MadFanny
andhisothersisterMrsDickinsondrivingaboutwithscarletharness.Boltuprightliksurgeon
M'Ardle.StillDavidSheehybeathimforsouthMeath.ApplyfortheChilternHundredsand
retire into public life. The patriot's banquet. Eating orangepeels in the park. Simon Dedalus
saidwhentheyputhiminparliamentthatParnellwouldcomebackfromthegraveandlead
himoutofthehouseofcommonsbythearm.
Ofthetwoheadedoctopus,oneofwhoseheadsistheheaduponwhichthe ends of the
worldhaveforgottentocomewhiletheotherspeakswithaScotchaccent.Thetentacles...
They passed from behind Mr Bloom along the curbstone. Beard and bicycle. Young
woman.
Andthereheistoo.Nowthat'sreallyacoincidence:secondtime.Comingeventscasttheir
shadows before. With the approval of the eminent poet, Mr Geo. Russell. That might be
LizzieTwiggwithhim.A.E.:whatdoesthatmean?Initialsperhaps.AlbertEdward,Arthur
Edmund, Alphonsus Eb Ed El Esquire. What was he saying? The ends of the world with a
Scotchaccent.Tentacles:octopus.Somethingoccult:symbolism.Holdingforth.She'staking
itallin.Notsayingaword.Toaidgentlemaninliterarywork.
Hiseyesfollowedthehighfigureinhomespun,beardandbicycle,alisteningwomanathis
side.Comingfromthevegetarian.Onlyweggebobblesandfruit.Don'teatabeefsteak.Ifyou
do the eyes of that cow will pursue you through all eternity. They say it's healthier.
Windandwaterythough. Tried it. Keep you on therunall day.Badas abloater. Dreamsall
night.Whydotheycallthatthingtheygavemenutsteak?Nutarians.Fruitarians.Togiveyou
theideayouareeatingrumpsteak.Absurd.Saltytoo.Theycookinsoda.Keepyousittingby
thetapallnight.
Her stockings are loose over her ankles. I detest that: so tasteless. Those literary etherial
peopletheyareall.Dreamy,cloudy,symbolistic.Esthetestheyare.Iwouldn'tbesurprisedif
itwasthatkindoffoodyouseeproducesthelikewavesofthebrainthepoetical.Forexample
one of those policemen sweating Irish stew into their shirts you couldn't squeeze a line of
poetryoutofhim.Don'tknowwhatpoetryiseven.Mustbeinacertainmood.
Thedreamycloudygull
Waveso'erthewatersdull.

HecrossedatNassaustreetcornerandstoodbeforethewindowofYeatesandSon,pricing
the fieldglasses. Or will I drop into old Harris's and have a chat with young Sinclair?
Wellmannered fellow. Probably at his lunch. Must get those old glasses of mine set right.
Goerz lenses six guineas. Germans making their way everywhere. Sell on easy terms to
capture trade. Undercutting. Might chance on a pair in the railway lost property office.
Astonishingthethingspeopleleavebehindthemintrainsandcloakrooms.Whatdotheybe
thinking about? Women too. Incredible. Last year travelling to Ennis had to pick up that
farmer'sdaughter'sbaandhandittoheratLimerickjunction.Unclaimedmoneytoo.There's
alittlewatchupthereontheroofofthebanktotestthoseglassesby.
Hislidscamedownonthelowerrimsofhisirides.Can'tseeit.Ifyouimagineit'sthereyou
canalmostseeit.Can'tseeit.
Hefacedaboutand,standingbetweentheawnings,heldouthisrighthandatarm'slength
towardsthesun.Wantedtotrythatoften.Yes:completely.Thetipofhislittlefingerblotted
outthesun'sdisk.Mustbethefocuswheretherayscross.IfIhadblackglasses.Interesting.
TherewasalotoftalkaboutthosesunspotswhenwewereinLombardstreetwest.Looking
upfromthebackgarden.Terrificexplosionstheyare.Therewillbeatotaleclipsethisyear:
autumnsometime.
NowthatIcometothinkofitthatballfallsatGreenwichtime.It'stheclockisworkedby
anelectricwirefromDunsink.MustgoouttheresomefirstSaturdayofthemonth.IfIcould
getanintroductiontoprofessorJolyorlearnupsomethingabouthisfamily.Thatwoulddoto:
man always feels complimented. Flattery where least expected. Nobleman proud to be
descendedfromsomeking'smistress.Hisforemother.Layitonwithatrowel. Cap in hand
goesthroughtheland.Notgoinandblurtoutwhatyouknowyou'renotto:what'sparallax?
Showthisgentlemanthedoor.
Ah.
Hishandfelltohissideagain.
Neverknowanythingaboutit.Wasteoftime.Gasballsspinningabout,crossingeachother,
passing. Same old dingdong always. Gas: then solid: then world: then cold: then dead shell
driftingaround,frozenrock,likethatpineapplerock.Themoon.Mustbeanewmoonout,she
said.Ibelievethereis.
HewentonbylamaisonClaire.
Wait.ThefullmoonwasthenightwewereSundayfortnightexactlythereisanewmoon.
Walking down by the Tolka. Not bad for a Fairview moon. She was humming. The young
Maymoonshe'sbeaming,love.Heothersideofher.Elbow,arm.He.Glowworm'slaampis
gleaming,love.Touch.Fingers.Asking.Answer.Yes.
Stop.Stop.Ifitwasitwas.Must.
MrBloom,quickbreathing,slowlierwalkingpassedAdamcourt.
WithakeepquietreliefhiseyestooknotethisisthestreetheremiddleofthedayofBob
Doran'sbottleshoulders.Onhisannualbend,MCoysaid.Theydrinkinordertosayordo
something or cherchez la femme. Up in the Coombe with chummies and streetwalkers and
thentherestoftheyearsoberasajudge.
Yes.Thoughtso.SlopingintotheEmpire.Gone.Plainsodawoulddohimgood.WherePat
Kinsella had his Harp theatre before Whitbred ran the Queen's. Broth of a boy. Dion
Boucicault business with his harvestmoon face in a poky bonnet. Three Purty Maids from
School.Howtimeflies,eh?Showinglongredpantaloonsunderhisskirts.Drinkers,drinking,
laughed spluttering, their drink against their breath. More power, Pat. Coarse red: fun for
drunkards:guffawandsmoke.Takeoffthatwhitehat.Hisparboiledeyes.Whereishenow?
Beggarsomewhere.Theharpthatoncedidstarveusall.
I was happier then. Or was that I? Or am I now I? Twentyeight I was. She twentythree.
WhenweleftLombardstreetwestsomethingchanged.CouldneverlikeitagainafterRudy.
Can't bring back time. Like holding water in your hand. Would you go back to then? Just

beginningthen.Wouldyou?Are you not happy in your home you poor little naughty boy?
Wantstosewonbuttonsforme.Imustanswer.Writeitinthelibrary.
Grafton street gay with housed awnings lured his senses. Muslin prints, silkdames and
dowagers,jingleofharnesses,hoofthudslowringinginthebakingcauseway.Thickfeetthat
woman has in the white stockings. Hope the rain mucks them up on her. Countrybred
chawbacon.Allthebeeftotheheelswerein.Alwaysgivesawomanclumsyfeet.Mollylooks
outofplumb.
He passed, dallying, the windows of Brown Thomas, silk mercers. Cascades of ribbons.
FlimsyChinasilks.Atiltedurnpouredfromitsmouthafloodofbloodhuedpoplin:lustrous
blood.Thehuguenotsbroughtthathere.Lacausasanta!Taratara.Greatchorusthat.Taree
tara.Mustbewashedinrainwater.Meyerbeer.Tara:bombombom.
Pincushions. I'm a long time threatening to buy one. Sticking them all over the place.
Needlesinwindowcurtains.
Hebaredslightlyhisleftforearm.Scrape:nearlygone.Nottodayanyhow.Mustgoback
forthatlotion.Forherbirthdayperhaps.Junejulyaugseptember eighth. Nearly three months
off.Thenshemightn'tlikeit.Womenwon'tpickuppins.Sayitcutslo.
Gleamingsilks,petticoatsonslimbrassrails,raysofflatsilkstockings.
Uselesstogoback.Hadtobe.Tellmeall.
High voices. Sunwarm silk. Jingling harnesses. All for a woman, home and houses,
silkwebs,silver,richfruitsspicyfromJaffa.AgendathNetaim.Wealthoftheworld.
A warm human plumpness settled down on his brain. His brain yielded. Perfume of
embracesallhimassailed.Withhungeredfleshobscurely,hemutelycravedtoadore.
Dukestreet.Hereweare.Musteat.TheBurton.Feelbetterthen.
HeturnedCombridge'scorner,stillpursued.Jingling,hoofthuds.Perfumedbodies,warm,
full.Allkissed,yielded:indeepsummerfields,tangledpressedgrass,intricklinghallwaysof
tenements,alongsofas,creakingbeds.
Jack,love!
Darling!
Kissme,Reggy!
Myboy!
Love!
HisheartastirhepushedinthedooroftheBurtonrestaurant.Stinkgrippedhistrembling
breath:pungentmeatjuice,slushofgreens.Seetheanimalsfeed.
Men,men,men.
Perchedonhighstoolsbythebar,hatsshovedback,atthetablescallingformorebreadno
charge, swilling, wolfing gobfuls of sloppy food, their eyes bulging, wiping wetted
moustaches.Apallidsuetfacedyoungmanpolishedhistumblerknifeforkandspoonwithhis
napkin.Newsetofmicrobes.Amanwithaninfant'ssaucestainednapkintuckedroundhim
shovelled gurgling soup down his gullet. A man spitting back on his plate: halfmasticated
gristle:gums:noteethtochewchewchewit.Chumpchopfromthegrill.Boltingtogetitover.
Sadbooser'seyes.Bittenoffmorethanhecanchew.AmIlikethat?Seeourselvesasothers
see us. Hungry man is an angry man. Working tooth and jaw. Don't! O! A bone! That last
pagankingofIrelandCormacintheschoolpoemchokedhimselfatSlettysouthwardofthe
Boyne. Wonder what he was eating. Something galoptious. Saint Patrick converted him to
Christianity.Couldn'tswallowitallhowever.
Roastbeefandcabbage.
Onestew.
Smellsofmen.Hisgorgerose.Spatonsawdust,sweetishwarmishcigarettesmoke,reekof
plug,spiltbeer,men'sbeerypiss,thestaleofferment.

Couldn'teatamorselhere.Fellowsharpeningknifeandforktoeatallbeforehim,oldchap
pickinghistootles.Slightspasm,full,chewingthecud.Beforeandafter.Graceaftermeals.
Lookonthispicturethenonthat.Scoffingupstewgravywithsoppingsippetsofbread.Lickit
offtheplate,man!Getoutofthis.
Hegazedroundthestooledandtabledeaters,tighteningthewingsofhisnose.
Twostoutshere.
Onecornedandcabbage.
Thatfellowrammingaknifefulofcabbagedownasifhislifedependedonit.Goodstroke.
Givemethefidgetstolook.Safertoeatfromhisthreehands.Tearitlimbfromlimb.Second
naturetohim.Bornwithasilverknifeinhismouth.That'switty,Ithink.Orno.Silvermeans
bornrich.Bornwithaknife.Butthentheallusionislost.
Anillgirtservergatheredstickyclatteringplates.Rock,theheadbailiff,standingatthebar
blewthefoamycrownfromhistankard.Wellup:itsplashedyellownearhisboot.Adiner,
knifeandforkupright,elbowsontable,readyforasecondhelpingstaredtowardsthefoodlift
acrosshisstainedsquareofnewspaper.Otherchaptellinghimsomethingwithhismouthfull.
Sympathetic listener. Table talk. I munched hum un thu Unchster Bunk un Munchday. Ha?
Didyou,faith?
MrBloomraisedtwofingersdoubtfullytohislips.Hiseyessaid:
Nothere.Don'tseehim.
Out.Ihatedirtyeaters.
Hebackedtowardsthedoor.GetalightsnackinDavyByrne's.Stopgap.Keepmegoing.
Hadagoodbreakfast.
Roastandmashedhere.
Pintofstout.
Everyfellowforhisown,toothandnail.Gulp.Grub.Gulp.Gobstuff.
HecameoutintoclearerairandturnedbacktowardsGraftonstreet.Eatorbeeaten.Kill!
Kill!
Supposethatcommunalkitchenyearstocomeperhaps.Alltrottingdownwithporringers
andtommycanstobefilled.Devourcontentsinthestreet.JohnHowardParnellexamplethe
provost of Trinity every mother's son don't talk of your provosts and provost of Trinity
womenandchildrencabmenpriestsparsonsfieldmarshalsarchbishops.FromAilesburyroad,
Clyderoad,artisans'dwellings,northDublinunion,lordmayorinhisgingerbreadcoach,old
queeninabathchair.Myplate'sempty.Afteryouwithourincorporateddrinkingcup.Likesir
PhilipCrampton'sfountain.Ruboffthemicrobeswithyourhandkerchief.Nextchaprubsona
newbatchwithhis.FatherO'Flynnwouldmakeharesofthemall.Haverowsallthesame.All
fornumberone.Childrenfightingforthescrapingsofthepot.Wantasouppotasbigasthe
Phoenixpark.Harpooningflitchesandhindquartersoutofit.Hatepeopleallroundyou.City
Arms hotel table d'hte she called it. Soup, joint and sweet. Never know whose thoughts
you'rechewing.Thenwho'dwashupalltheplatesandforks?Mightbeallfeedingontabloids
thattime.Teethgettingworseandworse.
Afterallthere'salotinthatvegetarianfineflavourofthingsfromtheearthgarlicofcourse
itstinksafterItalianorgangrinderscrispofonionsmushroomstruffles.Paintotheanimaltoo.
Pluckanddrawfowl.Wretchedbrutesthereatthecattlemarketwaitingforthepoleaxetosplit
their skulls open. Moo. Poor trembling calves. Meh. Staggering bob. Bubble and squeak.
Butchers'bucketswobblylights.Giveusthatbrisketoffthehook.Plup.Rawheadandbloody
bones. Flayed glasseyed sheep hung from their haunches, sheepsnouts bloodypapered
snivelling nosejam on sawdust. Top and lashers going out. Don't maul them pieces, young
one.
Hot fresh blood they prescribe for decline. Blood always needed. Insidious. Lick it up
smokinghot,thicksugary.Famishedghosts.

Ah,I'mhungry.
HeenteredDavyByrne's.Moralpub.Hedoesn'tchat.Standsadrinknowandthen.Butin
leapyearonceinfour.Cashedachequeformeonce.
WhatwillItakenow?Hedrewhiswatch.Letmeseenow.Shandygaff?
Hello,Bloom,NoseyFlynnsaidfromhisnook.
Hello,Flynn.
How'sthings?
Tiptop...Letmesee.I'lltakeaglassofburgundyand...letmesee.
Sardines on the shelves. Almost taste them by looking. Sandwich? Ham and his
descendantsmusterredandbredthere.Pottedmeats.WhatishomewithoutPlumtree'spotted
meat? Incomplete. What a stupid ad! Under the obituary notices they stuck it. All up a
plumtree.Dignam'spottedmeat.Cannibalswouldwithlemonandrice.Whitemissionarytoo
salty.Likepickled pork. Expect the chief consumes the parts of honour. Ought to be tough
fromexercise.Hiswivesinarowtowatchtheeffect.Therewasarightroyaloldnigger.Who
ateorsomethingthesomethingsofthereverendMrMacTrigger. With it an abode of bliss.
Lord knows what concoction. Cauls mouldy tripes windpipes faked and minced up. Puzzle
findthemeat.Kosher.Nomeatandmilktogether.Hygienethatwaswhattheycallnow.Yom
Kippur fast spring cleaning of inside. Peace and war depend on some fellow's digestion.
Religions.Christmasturkeysandgeese.Slaughterofinnocents.Eatdrinkandbemerry.Then
casualwardsfullafter.Headsbandaged.Cheesedigestsallbutitself.Mitycheese.
Haveyouacheesesandwich?
Yes,sir.
Likeafewolivestooiftheyhadthem.ItalianIprefer.Goodglassofburgundytakeaway
that.Lubricate.Anicesalad,coolasacucumber,TomKernancandress.Putsgustointoit.
Pureoliveoil.Millyservedmethatcutletwithasprigofparsley.TakeoneSpanishonion.
Godmadefood,thedevilthecooks.Devilledcrab.
Wifewell?
Quitewell,thanks...Acheesesandwich,then.Gorgonzola,haveyou?
Yes,sir.
NoseyFlynnsippedhisgrog.
Doinganysingingthosetimes?
Look at his mouth. Could whistle in his own ear. Flap ears to match. Music. Knows as
muchaboutitasmycoachman.Stillbettertellhim.Doesnoharm.Freead.
She'sengagedforabigtourendofthismonth.Youmayhaveheardperhaps.
No.O,that'sthestyle.Who'sgettingitup?
Thecurateserved.
Howmuchisthat?
Sevend.,sir...Thankyou,sir.
Mr Bloom cut his sandwich into slender strips. Mr MacTrigger. Easier than the dreamy
creamystuff.Hisfivehundredwives.Hadthetimeoftheirlives.
Mustard,sir?
Thankyou.
Hestuddedundereachliftedstripyellowblobs.Theirlives.Ihaveit.It grew bigger and
biggerandbigger.
Getting it up? he said. Well, it's like a company idea, you see. Part shares and part
profits.
Ay, now I remember, Nosey Flynn said, putting his hand in his pocket to scratch his
groin.Whoisthiswastellingme?Isn'tBlazesBoylanmixedupinit?

AwarmshockofairheatofmustardhanchedonMrBloom'sheart.Heraisedhiseyesand
met the stare of a bilious clock. Two. Pub clock five minutes fast. Time going on. Hands
moving.Two.Notyet.
Hismidriffyearnedthenupward,sankwithinhim,yearnedmorelongly,longingly.
Wine.
He smellsipped the cordial juice and, bidding his throat strongly to speed it, set his
wineglassdelicatelydown.
Yes,hesaid.He'stheorganiserinpointoffact.
Nofear:nobrains.
NoseyFlynnsnuffledandscratched.Fleahavingagoodsquaremeal.
Hehadagoodsliceofluck,JackMooneywastellingme,overthatboxingmatchMyler
Keogh won again that soldier in the Portobello barracks. By God, he had the little kipper
downinthecountyCarlowhewastellingme...
Hopethatdewdropdoesn'tcomedownintohisglass.No,snuffleditup.
Fornearamonth,man,beforeitcameoff.SuckingduckeggsbyGodtillfurtherorders.
Keephimofftheboose,see?O,byGod,Blazesisahairychap.
Davy Byrnecame forward from the hindbar in tuckstitchedshirtsleeves, cleaninghislips
withtwowipesofhisnapkin.Herring'sblush.Whosesmileuponeachfeatureplayswithsuch
andsuchreplete.Toomuchfatontheparsnips.
Andhere'shimselfandpepperonhim,NoseyFlynnsaid.Canyougiveusagoodonefor
theGoldcup?
I'moffthat,MrFlynn,DavyByrneanswered.Ineverputanythingonahorse.
You'rerightthere,NoseyFlynnsaid.
Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, fresh clean bread, with relish of disgust pungent
mustard,thefeetysavourofgreencheese.Sipsofhiswinesoothedhispalate.Notlogwood
that.Tastesfullerthisweatherwiththechilloff.
Nicequietbar.Nicepieceofwoodinthatcounter.Nicelyplaned.Likethewayitcurves
there.
I wouldn't do anything at all in that line, Davy Byrne said. It ruined many a man, the
samehorses.
Vintners'sweepstake.Licensedforthesaleofbeer,wineandspiritsforconsumptiononthe
premises.HeadsIwintailsyoulose.
True for you, Nosey Flynn said. Unless you're in the know. There's no straight sport
going now. Lenehan gets some good ones. He's giving Sceptre today. Zinfandel's the
favourite, lord Howard de Walden's, won at Epsom. Morny Cannon is riding him. I could
havegotseventooneagainstSaintAmantafortnightbefore.
Thatso?DavyByrnesaid...
Hewenttowardsthewindowand,takingupthepettycashbook,scanneditspages.
I could, faith, Nosey Flynn said, snuffling. That was a rare bit of horseflesh. Saint
Frusquinwashersire.Shewoninathunderstorm,Rothschild'sfilly,withwaddinginherears.
Bluejacketandyellowcap.BadlucktobigBenDollardandhisJohnO'Gaunt.Heputmeoff
it.Ay.
Hedrankresignedlyfromhistumbler,runninghisfingersdowntheflutes.
Ay,hesaid,sighing.
MrBloom,champing,standing,lookeduponhissigh.Noseynumbskull.WillItellhimthat
horse Lenehan? He knows already. Better let him forget. Go and lose more. Fool and his
money.Dewdropcomingdownagain.Coldnosehe'dhavekissingawoman.Stilltheymight
like.Pricklybeardstheylike.Dogs'coldnoses.OldMrsRiordanwiththerumblingstomach's
Skye terrier in the City Arms hotel. Molly fondling him in her lap. O, the big

doggybowwowsywowsy!
Wine soaked and softened rolled pith of bread mustard a moment mawkish cheese. Nice
wineitis.TasteitbetterbecauseI'mnotthirsty.Bathofcoursedoesthat.Justabiteortwo.
Thenaboutsixo'clockIcan.Six.Six.Timewillbegonethen.She...
Mild fire of wine kindled his veins. I wanted that badly. Felt so off colour. His eyes
unhungrilysawshelvesoftins:sardines,gaudylobsters'claws.Alltheoddthingspeoplepick
upforfood.Outofshells,periwinkleswithapin,offtrees,snailsoutofthegroundtheFrench
eat, out of the sea with bait on a hook. Silly fish learn nothing in a thousand years. If you
didn't know risky putting anything into your mouth. Poisonous berries. Johnny Magories.
Roundnessyouthinkgood.Gaudycolourwarnsyouoff.Onefellowtoldanotherandsoon.
Try it on the dog first. Led on by the smell or the look. Tempting fruit. Ice cones. Cream.
Instinct.Orangegrovesforinstance.Needartificialirrigation.Bleibtreustrasse.Yesbutwhat
about oysters. Unsightly like a clot of phlegm. Filthy shells. Devil to open them too. Who
found them out? Garbage, sewage they feed on. Fizz and Red bank oysters. Effect on the
sexual. Aphrodis. He was in the Red Bank this morning. Was he oysters old fish at table
perhapsheyoungfleshinbednoJunehasnoarnooysters.Buttherearepeoplelikethings
high.Taintedgame.Juggedhare.Firstcatch your hare. Chinese eating eggs fifty years old,
blueandgreenagain.Dinnerofthirtycourses.Eachdishharmlessmightmixinside.Ideafor
a poison mystery. That archduke Leopold was it no yes or was it Otto one of those
Habsburgs?Orwhowasitusedtoeatthescruffoffhisownhead?Cheapestlunchintown.Of
coursearistocrats,thentheotherscopytobeinthefashion.Millytoorockoilandflour.Raw
pastryIlikemyself.Halfthecatchofoysterstheythrowbackintheseatokeepuptheprice.
Cheapnoonewouldbuy.Caviare.Dothegrand.Hockingreenglasses.Swellblowout.Lady
this. Powdered bosom pearls. The lite. Crme de la crme. They want special dishes to
pretend they're. Hermit with a platter of pulse keep down the stings of the flesh. Know me
comeeatwithme.Royalsturgeonhighsheriff,Coffey,thebutcher,righttovenisonsofthe
forestfromhisex.Sendhimbackthehalfofacow.SpreadIsawdownintheMasterofthe
Rolls' kitchen area. Whitehatted chef like a rabbi. Combustible duck. Curly cabbage la
duchessedeParme.Justaswelltowriteitonthebilloffaresoyoucanknowwhatyou've
eaten.Toomanydrugsspoilthebroth.Iknowitmyself.DosingitwithEdwards'desiccated
soup.Geesestuffedsillyforthem.Lobstersboiledalive.Doptakesomeptarmigan.Wouldn't
mindbeingawaiterinaswellhotel.Tips,eveningdress,halfnakedladies.MayItemptyouto
alittlemorefilletedlemonsole,missDubedat?Yes,dobedad.Andshedidbedad.Huguenot
nameIexpectthat.AmissDubedatlivedinKilliney,Iremember.Du,delaFrench.Stillit's
thesamefishperhapsoldMickyHanlonofMoorestreetrippedthegutsoutofmakingmoney
handoverfistfingerinfishes'gillscan'twritehisnameonachequethinkhewaspaintingthe
landscapewithhismouthtwisted.MoooikillAAitchaHaignorantasakishofbrogues,worth
fiftythousandpounds.
Stuckonthepanetwofliesbuzzed,stuck.
Glowing wine on his palate lingered swallowed. Crushing in the winepress grapes of
Burgundy. Sun's heat it is. Seems to a secret touch telling me memory. Touched his sense
moistenedremembered.HiddenunderwildfernsonHowthbelowusbaysleeping:sky.No
sound.Thesky.ThebaypurplebytheLion'shead.GreenbyDrumleck.Yellowgreentowards
Sutton.Fieldsofundersea,thelinesfaintbrowningrass,buriedcities.Pillowedonmycoat
shehadherhair,earwigsintheheatherscrubmyhandunderhernape,you'lltossmeall.O
wonder! Coolsoft with ointments her hand touched me, caressed: her eyes upon me did not
turnaway.RavishedoverherIlay,fulllipsfullopen,kissedhermouth.Yum.Softlyshegave
me in my mouth the seedcake warm and chewed. Mawkish pulp her mouth had mumbled
sweetsourofherspittle.Joy:Iateit:joy.Younglife,herlipsthatgavemepouting.Softwarm
stickygumjellylips.Flowershereyeswere,takeme,willingeyes.Pebblesfell.Shelaystill.
A goat. Noone. High on Ben Howth rhododendrons a nannygoat walking surefooted,
droppingcurrants.Screenedunderfernsshelaughedwarmfolded.WildlyIlayonher,kissed
her: eyes, her lips, her stretched neck beating, woman's breasts full in her blouse of nun's

veiling,fatnipplesupright.HotItonguedher.Shekissedme.Iwaskissed.Allyieldingshe
tossedmyhair.Kissed,shekissedme.
Me.Andmenow.
Stuck,thefliesbuzzed.
Hisdowncasteyesfollowedthesilentveiningoftheoakenslab.Beauty:itcurves:curves
arebeauty.Shapelygoddesses,Venus,Juno:curvestheworldadmires.Canseethemlibrary
museumstandingintheroundhall,nakedgoddesses.Aidstodigestion.Theydon'tcarewhat
manlooks.Alltosee.Neverspeaking.ImeantosaytofellowslikeFlynn.Supposeshedid
Pygmalion and Galatea what would she say first? Mortal! Put you in your proper place.
Quaffing nectar at mess with gods golden dishes, all ambrosial. Not like a tanner lunch we
have, boiled mutton, carrots and turnips, bottle of Allsop. Nectar imagine it drinking
electricity:gods'food. Lovely formsof women sculped Junonian.Immortal lovely. Andwe
stuffingfoodinoneholeandoutbehind:food,chyle,blood,dung,earth,food:havetofeedit
likestokinganengine.Theyhaveno.Neverlooked.I'lllooktoday.Keeperwon'tsee.Bend
downletsomethingdropseeifshe.
Dribblingaquietmessagefromhisbladdercametogotodonottodotheretodo.Aman
andreadyhedrainedhisglasstotheleesandwalked,tomentootheygavethemselves,manly
conscious,laywithmenlovers,ayouthenjoyedher,totheyard.
WhenthesoundofhisbootshadceasedDavyByrnesaidfromhisbook:
Whatisthisheis?Isn'theintheinsuranceline?
He'soutofthatlongago,NoseyFlynnsaid.HedoescanvassingfortheFreeman.
Iknowhimwelltosee,DavyByrnesaid.Isheintrouble?
Trouble?NoseyFlynnsaid.NotthatIheardof.Why?
Inoticedhewasinmourning.
Washe?NoseyFlynnsaid.Sohewas,faith.Iaskedhimhowwasallathome.You're
right,byGod.Sohewas.
Ineverbroachthesubject,DavyByrnesaidhumanely,ifIseeagentlemanisintrouble
thatway.Itonlybringsitupfreshintheirminds.
It'snotthewifeanyhow,NoseyFlynnsaid.Imethimthedaybeforeyesterdayandhe
comingoutofthatIrishfarmdairyJohnWyseNolan'swifehasinHenrystreetwithajarof
creaminhishandtakingithometohisbetterhalf.She'swellnourished,Itellyou.Ploverson
toast.
AndishedoingfortheFreeman?DavyByrnesaid.
NoseyFlynnpursedhislips.
Hedoesn'tbuycreamontheadshepicksup.Youcanmakebaconofthat.
Howso?DavyByrneasked,comingfromhisbook.
NoseyFlynnmadeswiftpassesintheairwithjugglingfingers.Hewinked.
He'sinthecraft,hesaid.
Doyoutellmeso?DavyByrnesaid.
Very much so, Nosey Flynn said. Ancient free and accepted order. He's an excellent
brother.Light,lifeandlove,byGod.Theygivehimaleg up. I was told that by awell, I
won'tsaywho.
Isthatafact?
O, it's a fine order, Nosey Flynn said. They stick to you when you're down. I know a
fellowwastryingtogetintoit.Butthey'reascloseasdamnit.ByGodtheydidrighttokeep
thewomenoutofit.
DavyByrnesmiledyawnednoddedallinone:
Iiiiiichaaaaaaach!

Therewasonewoman,NoseyFlynnsaid,hidherselfinaclocktofindoutwhattheydo
bedoing.Butbedamnedbuttheysmeltheroutandsworeherinonthespotamastermason.
ThatwasoneofthesaintLegersofDoneraile.
DavyByrne,satedafterhisyawn,saidwithtearwashedeyes:
Andisthatafact?Decentquietmanheis.IoftensawhiminhereandIneveroncesaw
himyouknow,overtheline.
GodAlmightycouldn'tmakehimdrunk,NoseyFlynnsaidfirmly.Slipsoffwhenthefun
getstoohot.Didn'tyouseehimlookathiswatch?Ah,youweren'tthere.Ifyouaskhimto
haveadrinkfirstthinghedoesheoutswiththewatchtoseewhatheoughttoimbibe.Declare
toGodhedoes.
Therearesomelikethat,DavyByrnesaid.He'sasafeman,I'dsay.
He's not too bad, Nosey Flynn said, snuffling it up. He's been known to put his hand
downtootohelpafellow.Givethedevilhisdue.O,Bloomhashisgoodpoints.Butthere's
onethinghe'llneverdo.
Hishandscrawledadrypensignaturebesidehisgrog.
Iknow,DavyByrnesaid.
Nothinginblackandwhite,NoseyFlynnsaid.
PaddyLeonardandBantamLyonscamein.TomRochfordfollowedfrowning,aplaining
handonhisclaretwaistcoat.
Day,MrByrne.
Day,gentlemen.
Theypausedatthecounter.
Who'sstanding?PaddyLeonardasked.
I'msittinganyhow,NoseyFlynnanswered.
Well,what'llitbe?PaddyLeonardasked.
I'lltakeastoneginger,BantamLyonssaid.
Howmuch?PaddyLeonardcried.Sincewhen,forGod'sake?What'syours,Tom?
Howisthemaindrainage?NoseyFlynnasked,sipping.
ForanswerTomRochfordpressedhishandtohisbreastboneandhiccupped.
WouldItroubleyouforaglassoffreshwater,MrByrne?hesaid.
Certainly,sir.
PaddyLeonardeyedhisalemates.
Lord love a duck, he said. Look at what I'm standing drinks to! Cold water and
gingerpop!Twofellowsthatwouldsuckwhiskyoffasoreleg.Hehassomebloodyhorseup
hissleevefortheGoldcup.Adeadsnip.
Zinfandelisit?NoseyFlynnasked.
TomRochfordspiltpowderfromatwistedpaperintothewatersetbeforehim.
Thatcurseddyspepsia,hesaidbeforedrinking.
Breadsodaisverygood,DavyByrnesaid.
TomRochfordnoddedanddrank.
IsitZinfandel?
Saynothing!BantamLyonswinked.I'mgoingtoplungefivebobonmyown.
Tellusifyou'reworthyoursaltandbedamnedtoyou,PaddyLeonardsaid.Whogaveit
toyou?
MrBloomonhiswayoutraisedthreefingersingreeting.
Solong!NoseyFlynnsaid.

Theothersturned.
That'sthemannowthatgaveittome,BantamLyonswhispered.
Prrwht! Paddy Leonard said with scorn. Mr Byrne, sir, we'll take two of your small
Jamesonsafterthatanda...
Stoneginger,DavyByrneaddedcivilly.
Ay,PaddyLeonardsaid.Asuckingbottleforthebaby.
MrBloomwalkedtowardsDawsonstreet,histonguebrushinghisteethsmooth.Something
greenitwouldhavetobe:spinach,say.ThenwiththoseRontgenrayssearchlightyoucould.
At Duke lane a ravenous terrier choked up a sick knuckly cud on the cobblestones and
lappeditwithnewzest.Surfeit.Returnedwiththankshavingfullydigestedthecontents.First
sweet then savoury. Mr Bloom coasted warily. Ruminants. His second course. Their upper
jawtheymove.WonderifTomRochfordwilldoanythingwiththatinventionofhis?Wasting
timeexplainingittoFlynn'smouth.Leanpeoplelongmouths.Oughttobeahalloraplace
whereinventorscouldgoinandinventfree.Coursethenyou'dhaveallthecrankspestering.
Hehummed,prolonginginsolemnechotheclosesofthebars:
DonGiovanni,acenartecoM'invitasti.
Feelbetter.Burgundy.Goodpickmeup.Whodistilledfirst?Somechapintheblues.Dutch
courage.ThatKilkennyPeopleinthenationallibrarynowImust.
BarecleanclosestoolswaitinginthewindowofWilliamMiller,plumber,turnedbackhis
thoughts.Theycould:andwatchitallthewaydown,swallowapinsometimescomeoutof
the ribs years after, tour round the body changing biliary duct spleen squirting liver gastric
juicecoilsofintestineslikepipes.Butthepoorbufferwouldhavetostandallthetimewith
hisinsidesentrailsonshow.Science.
Acenarteco.
Whatdoesthattecomean?Tonightperhaps.
DonGiovanni,thouhastmeinvited
Tocometosuppertonight,
Therumtherumdum.

Doesn'tgoproperly.
Keyes:twomonthsifIgetNannettito.That'llbetwopoundstenabouttwopoundseight.
Three Hynes owes me. Two eleven. Prescott's dyeworks van over there. If I get Billy
Prescott'sad:twofifteen.Fiveguineasabout.Onthepig'sback.
CouldbuyoneofthosesilkpetticoatsforMolly,colourofhernewgarters.
Today.Today.Notthink.
Tour the south then. What about English wateringplaces? Brighton, Margate. Piers by
moonlight.Hervoicefloatingout.Thoselovelyseasidegirls.AgainstJohnLong'sadrowsing
loafer lounged in heavy thought, gnawing a crusted knuckle. Handy man wants job. Small
wages.Willeatanything.
Mr Bloom turned at Gray's confectioner's window of unbought tarts and passed the
reverendThomasConnellan'sbookstore.WhyIleftthechurchofRome?Birds'Nest.Women
runhim.Theysaytheyusedtogivepauperchildrensouptochangetoprotestantsinthetime
ofthepotatoblight.Societyoverthewaypapawenttofortheconversionofpoorjews.Same
bait.WhyweleftthechurchofRome.
Ablindstriplingstoodtappingthecurbstonewithhisslendercane.Notraminsight.Wants
tocross.
Doyouwanttocross?MrBloomasked.
The blind stripling did not answer. His wallface frowned weakly. He moved his head
uncertainly.
You'reinDawsonstreet,MrBloomsaid.Molesworthstreetisopposite.Doyouwantto

cross?There'snothingintheway.
Thecanemovedouttremblingtotheleft.MrBloom'seyefolloweditslineandsawagain
thedyeworks'vandrawnupbeforeDrago's.WhereIsawhisbrillantinedhairjustwhenIwas.
Horsedrooping.DriverinJohnLong's.Slakinghisdrouth.
There'savanthere,MrBloomsaid,butit'snotmoving.I'llseeyouacross.Doyouwant
togotoMolesworthstreet?
Yes,thestriplinganswered.SouthFrederickstreet.
Come,MrBloomsaid.
Hetouchedthethinelbowgently:thentookthelimpseeinghandtoguideitforward.
Saysomethingtohim.Betternotdothecondescending.Theymistrustwhatyoutellthem.
Passacommonremark.
Therainkeptoff.
Noanswer.
Stains on his coat. Slobbers his food, I suppose. Tastes all different for him. Have to be
spoonfed first. Like a child's hand, his hand. Like Milly's was. Sensitive. Sizing me up I
daresayfrommyhand.Wonderifhehasaname.Van.Keephiscaneclearofthehorse'slegs:
tireddrudgegethisdoze.That'sright.Clear.Behindabull:infrontofahorse.
Thanks,sir.
KnowsI'maman.Voice.
Rightnow?Firstturntotheleft.
The blind stripling tapped the curbstone and went on his way, drawing his cane back,
feelingagain.
MrBloomwalkedbehindtheeyelessfeet,aflatcutsuitofherringbonetweed.Pooryoung
fellow!Howonearthdidheknowthatvanwasthere?Musthavefeltit.Seethingsintheir
foreheadperhaps:kindofsenseofvolume.Weightorsizeofit,somethingblackerthanthe
dark.Wonderwouldhefeelitifsomethingwasremoved.Feelagap.QueerideaofDublinhe
musthave,tappinghiswayroundbythestones.Couldhewalkinabeelineifhehadn'tthat
cane?Bloodlesspiousfacelikeafellowgoingintobeapriest.
Penrose!Thatwasthatchap'sname.
Lookatallthethingstheycanlearntodo.Readwiththeirfingers.Tunepianos.Orweare
surprisedtheyhaveanybrains.Whywethinkadeformedpersonorahunchbackcleverifhe
sayssomethingwemightsay.Ofcoursetheothersensesaremore.Embroider.Plaitbaskets.
Peopleoughttohelp.WorkbasketIcouldbuyforMolly'sbirthday.Hatessewing.Mighttake
anobjection.Darkmentheycallthem.
Sense of smell must be stronger too. Smells on all sides, bunched together. Each street
differentsmell.Eachpersontoo.Thenthespring,thesummer:smells.Tastes?Theysayyou
can'ttastewineswithyoureyesshutoracoldinthehead.Alsosmokeinthedarktheysayget
nopleasure.
Andwithawoman,forinstance.Moreshamelessnotseeing.ThatgirlpassingtheStewart
institution, head in the air. Look at me. I have them all on. Must be strange not to see her.
Kind of a form in his mind's eye. The voice, temperatures: when he touches her with his
fingersmustalmostseethelines,thecurves.Hishandsonherhair,forinstance.Sayitwas
black,forinstance.Good.Wecallitblack.Thenpassingoverherwhiteskin.Differentfeel
perhaps.Feelingofwhite.
Postoffice. Must answer. Fag today. Send her a postal order two shillings, half a crown.
Acceptmylittlepresent.Stationer'sjustheretoo.Wait.Thinkoverit.
With a gentle finger he felt ever so slowly the hair combed back above his ears. Again.
Fibresoffinefinestraw.Thengentlyhisfingerfelttheskinofhisrightcheek.Downyhair
theretoo.Notsmoothenough.Thebellyisthesmoothest.Nooneabout.Therehegoesinto
Frederickstreet.PerhapstoLevenston'sdancingacademypiano.Mightbesettlingmybraces.

WalkingbyDoran'spublichouseheslidhishandbetweenhiswaistcoatandtrousersand,
pullingasidehisshirtgently,feltaslackfoldofhisbelly.ButIknowit'swhiteyyellow.Want
totryinthedarktosee.
Hewithdrewhishandandpulledhisdressto.
Poorfellow!Quiteaboy.Terrible.Reallyterrible.Whatdreamswouldhehave,notseeing?
Lifeadreamforhim.Whereisthejusticebeingbornthatway?Allthosewomenandchildren
excursion beanfeast burned and drowned in New York. Holocaust. Karma they call that
transmigrationforsinsyoudidinapastlifethereincarnationmethimpikehoses.Dear,dear,
dear.Pity,ofcourse:butsomehowyoucan'tcottonontothemsomeway.
Sir Frederick Falkiner going into the freemasons' hall. Solemn as Troy. After his good
lunch in Earlsfort terrace. Old legal cronies cracking a magnum. Tales of the bench and
assizesandannalsofthebluecoatschool.Isentencedhimtotenyears.Isupposehe'dturnup
hisnoseatthatstuffIdrank.Vintagewineforthem,theyearmarkedonadustybottle.Has
his own ideas of justice in the recorder's court. Wellmeaning old man. Police chargesheets
crammedwithcasesgettheirpercentagemanufacturingcrime.Sendsthemtotherightabout.
Thedevilonmoneylenders.GaveReubenJ.agreatstrawcalling.Nowhe'sreallywhatthey
calladirtyjew. Power those judges have. Crusty old topers in wigs. Bear with a sore paw.
AndmaytheLordhavemercyonyoursoul.
Hello,placard.Mirusbazaar.HisExcellencythelordlieutenant.Sixteenth.Todayitis.In
aidoffundsforMercer'shospital.TheMessiah was first given for that. Yes. Handel. What
about going out there: Ballsbridge. Drop in on Keyes. No use sticking to him like a leech.
Wearoutmywelcome.Suretoknowsomeoneonthegate.
MrBloomcametoKildarestreet.FirstImust.Library.
Strawhatinsunlight.Tanshoes.Turneduptrousers.Itis.Itis.
Hisheartquoppedsoftly.Totheright.Museum.Goddesses.Heswervedtotheright.
Isit?Almostcertain.Won'tlook.Wineinmyface.WhydidI?Tooheady.Yes,itis.The
walk.Notsee.Geton.
Makingforthemuseumgatewithlongwindystepsheliftedhiseyes.Handsomebuilding.
SirThomasDeanedesigned.Notfollowingme?
Didn'tseemeperhaps.Lightinhiseyes.
Theflutterofhisbreathcameforthinshortsighs.Quick.Coldstatues:quietthere.Safeina
minute.
No.Didn'tseeme.Aftertwo.Justatthegate.
Myheart!
His eyes beating looked steadfastly at cream curves of stone. Sir Thomas Deane was the
Greekarchitecture.
LookforsomethingI.
Hishastyhandwentquickintoapocket,tookout,readunfoldedAgendathNetaim.Where
didI?
Busylooking.
HethrustbackquickAgendath.
Afternoonshesaid.
Iamlookingforthat.Yes,that.Tryallpockets.Handker.Freeman.WheredidI?Ah,yes.
Trousers.Potato.Purse.Where?
Hurry.Walkquietly.Momentmore.Myheart.
HishandlookingforthewheredidIputfoundinhishippocketsoaplotion have to call
tepidpaperstuck.AhsoapthereIyes.Gate.
Safe!

Urbane,tocomfortthem,thequakerlibrarianpurred:
Andwehave,havewenot,thosepricelesspagesofWilhelmMeister.Agreatpoetona
greatbrotherpoet.Ahesitatingsoultakingarmsagainstaseaoftroubles,tornbyconflicting
doubts,asoneseesinreallife.
He came a step a sinkapace forward on neatsleather creaking and a step backward a
sinkapaceonthesolemnfloor.
Anoiselessattendantsettingopenthedoorbutslightlymadehimanoiselessbeck.
Directly,saidhe,creakingtogo,albeitlingering.Thebeautifulineffectualdreamerwho
comestogriefagainsthardfacts.OnealwaysfeelsthatGoethe'sjudgmentsaresotrue.True
inthelargeranalysis.
Twicreakinglyanalysishecorantoedoff.Bald,mostzealousbythedoorhegavehislarge
earalltotheattendant'swords:heardthem:andwasgone.
Twoleft.
MonsieurdelaPalice,Stephensneered,wasalivefifteenminutesbeforehisdeath.
Haveyoufoundthosesixbravemedicals,JohnEglintonaskedwithelder'sgall,towrite
ParadiseLostatyourdictation?TheSorrowsofSatanhecallsit.
Smile.SmileCranly'ssmile.
Firsthetickledher
Thenhepattedher
Thenhepassedthefemalecatheter.
Forhewasamedical
Jollyoldmedi...

I feel you would need one more for Hamlet. Seven is dear to the mystic mind. The
shiningsevenW.B.callsthem.
Glittereyed his rufous skull close to his greencapped desklamp sought the face bearded
amid darkgreener shadow, an ollav, holyeyed. He laughed low: a sizar's laugh of Trinity:
unanswered.
OrchestralSatan,weepingmanyarood
Tearssuchasangelsweep.
Edegliaveadelculfattotrombetta.

Heholdsmyfollieshostage.
Cranly's eleven true Wicklowmen to free their sireland. Gaptoothed Kathleen, her four
beautiful green fields, the stranger in her house. And one more to hail him: ave, rabbi: the
Tinahelytwelve.Intheshadowoftheglenhecooeesforthem.Mysoul'syouthIgavehim,
nightbynight.Godspeed.Goodhunting.
Mulliganhasmytelegram.
Folly.Persist.
Our young Irish bards, John Eglinton censured, have yet to create a figure which the
world will set beside Saxon Shakespeare's Hamlet though I admire him, as old Ben did, on
thissideidolatry.
All these questions are purely academic, Russell oracled out of his shadow. I mean,
whetherHamletisShakespeareorJamesIorEssex.Clergymen'sdiscussionsofthehistoricity
ofJesus.Arthastorevealtousideas,formlessspiritualessences.Thesupremequestionabout
aworkofartisoutofhowdeepalifedoesitspring.ThepaintingofGustaveMoreauisthe
painting of ideas. The deepest poetry of Shelley, the words ofHamlet bring ourmindsinto
contact with the eternal wisdom, Plato's world of ideas. All the rest is the speculation of
schoolboysforschoolboys.
A.E.hasbeentellingsomeyankeeinterviewer.Wall,tarnationstrikeme!
The schoolmen were schoolboys first, Stephen said superpolitely. Aristotle was once

Plato'sschoolboy.
Andhasremainedso,oneshouldhope,JohnEglintonsedatelysaid.Onecanseehim,a
modelschoolboywithhisdiplomaunderhisarm.
Helaughedagainatthenowsmilingbeardedface.
Formless spiritual. Father, Word and Holy Breath. Allfather, the heavenly man. Hiesos
Kristos,magicianofthebeautiful,theLogoswhosuffersinusateverymoment.Thisverilyis
that.Iamthefireuponthealtar.Iamthesacrificialbutter.
Dunlop,Judge,thenoblestRomanofthemall,A.E.,Arval,theNameIneffable,inheaven
hight: K.H., their master, whose identity is no secret to adepts. Brothers of the great white
lodge always watching to see if they can help. The Christ with the bridesister, moisture of
light,bornofanensouledvirgin,repentantsophia,departedtotheplaneofbuddhi.Thelife
esotericisnotforordinaryperson.O.P.mustworkoffbadkarmafirst. Mrs Cooper Oakley
onceglimpsedourveryillustrioussisterH.P.B.'selemental.
O,fie!Outon't!Pfuiteufel!Younaughtn'ttolook,missus,soyounaughtn'twhenalady's
ashowingofherelemental.
MrBestentered,tall,young,mild,light.Heboreinhishandwithgraceanotebook,new,
large,clean,bright.
Thatmodelschoolboy,Stephensaid,wouldfindHamlet'smusingsabouttheafterlifeof
his princely soul, the improbable, insignificant and undramatic monologue, as shallow as
Plato's.
JohnEglinton,frowning,said,waxingwroth:
UponmyworditmakesmybloodboiltohearanyonecompareAristotlewithPlato.
Whichofthetwo,Stephenasked,wouldhavebanishedmefromhiscommonwealth?
Unsheathe your dagger definitions. Horseness is the whatness of allhorse. Streams of
tendencyandeonstheyworship.God:noiseinthestreet:veryperipatetic.Space:whatyou
damn well have to see. Through spaces smaller than red globules of man's blood they
creepycrawlafterBlake'sbuttocksintoeternityofwhichthisvegetableworldisbutashadow.
Holdtothenow,thehere,throughwhichallfutureplungestothepast.
MrBestcameforward,amiable,towardshiscolleague.
Hainesisgone,hesaid.
Ishe?
I was showing him Jubainville's book. He's quite enthusiastic, don't you know, about
Hyde'sLovesongsofConnacht. I couldn't bring him in to hear the discussion. He's gone to
Gill'stobuyit.
Boundtheeforth,mybooklet,quick
Togreetthecallouspublic.
Writ,Iween,'twasnotmywish
InleanunlovelyEnglish.

Thepeatsmokeisgoingtohishead,JohnEglintonopined.
WefeelinEngland.Penitentthief.Gone.Ismokedhisbaccy.Greentwinklingstone.An
emeraldsetintheringofthesea.
Peopledonotknowhowdangerouslovesongscanbe,theauriceggofRussell warned
occultly.Themovementswhichworkrevolutionsintheworldarebornoutofthedreamsand
visionsinapeasant'sheartonthehillside.Forthemtheearthisnotanexploitablegroundbut
thelivingmother.Therarefiedairoftheacademyandthearenaproducethesixshillingnovel,
the musichall song. France produces the finest flower of corruption in Mallarme but the
desirablelifeisrevealedonlytothepoorofheart,thelifeofHomer'sPhaeacians.
FromthesewordsMrBestturnedanunoffendingfacetoStephen.
Mallarme, don't you know, he said, has written those wonderful prose poems Stephen

MacKennausedtoreadtomeinParis.TheoneaboutHamlet.Hesays:ilsepromne,lisant
aulivredeluimme,don'tyouknow,readingthebookofhimself.HedescribesHamletgiven
inaFrenchtown,don'tyouknow,aprovincialtown.Theyadvertisedit.
Hisfreehandgraciouslywrotetinysignsinair.
HAMLET
ou
LEDISTRAIT
PicedeShakespeare

HerepeatedtoJohnEglinton'snewgatheredfrown:
PicedeShakespeare,don'tyouknow.It'ssoFrench.TheFrenchpointofview.Hamlet
ou...
Theabsentmindedbeggar,Stephenended.
JohnEglintonlaughed.
Yes, I suppose it would be, he said. Excellent people, no doubt, but distressingly
shortsightedinsomematters.
Sumptuousandstagnantexaggerationofmurder.
AdeathsmanofthesoulRobertGreenecalledhim,Stephensaid.Notfornothingwashe
abutcher'sson,wieldingthesleddedpoleaxeandspittinginhispalms.Ninelivesaretaken
off for his father's one. Our Father who art in purgatory. Khaki Hamlets don't hesitate to
shoot.Thebloodbolteredshamblesinactfiveisaforecastoftheconcentrationcampsungby
MrSwinburne.
Cranly,Ihismuteorderly,followingbattlesfromafar.
WhelpsanddamsofmurderousfoeswhomnoneButwehadspared...
BetweentheSaxonsmileandyankeeyawp.Thedevilandthedeepsea.
HewillhaveitthatHamletisaghoststory,JohnEglintonsaidforMrBest'sbehoof.Like
thefatboyinPickwickhewantstomakeourfleshcreep.
List!List!OList!
Myfleshhearshim:creeping,hears.
Ifthoudidstever...
What is a ghost? Stephen said with tingling energy. One who has faded into
impalpability through death, through absence, through change of manners. Elizabethan
LondonlayasfarfromStratfordascorruptParisliesfromvirginDublin.Whoistheghost
fromlimbopatrum,returningtotheworldthathasforgottenhim?WhoisKingHamlet?
JohnEglintonshiftedhissparebody,leaningbacktojudge.
Lifted.
It is this hour of a day in mid June, Stephen said, begging with a swift glance their
hearing.Theflagisupontheplayhousebythebankside.ThebearSackersongrowlsinthepit
nearit,Parisgarden.CanvasclimberswhosailedwithDrakechewtheirsausagesamongthe
groundlings.
Localcolour.Workinallyouknow.Makethemaccomplices.
Shakespearehas left the huguenot'shouse in Silverstreetand walks by the swanmews
along the riverbank. But he does not stay to feed the pen chivying her game of cygnets
towardstherushes.TheswanofAvonhasotherthoughts.
Compositionofplace.IgnatiusLoyola,makehastetohelpme!
Theplaybegins.Aplayercomesonundertheshadow,madeupinthecastoffmailofa
courtbuck,awellsetmanwithabassvoice.Itistheghost,theking,akingandnoking,and
the player is Shakespeare who has studied Hamlet all the years of his life which were not
vanity in order to play the part of the spectre. He speaks the words to Burbage, the young
playerwhostandsbeforehimbeyondtherackofcerecloth,callinghimbyaname:

Hamlet,Iamthyfather'sspirit,
biddinghimlist.Toasonhespeaks,thesonofhissoul,theprince,youngHamletandto
thesonofhisbody,HamnetShakespeare,whohasdiedinStratfordthat hisnamesakemay
liveforever.
IsitpossiblethatthatplayerShakespeare,aghostbyabsence,andinthevestureofburied
Denmark, a ghost by death, speaking his own words to his own son's name (had Hamnet
ShakespearelivedhewouldhavebeenprinceHamlet'stwin),isitpossible,Iwanttoknow,or
probablethathedidnotdraworforeseethelogicalconclusionofthosepremises:youarethe
dispossessed son: I am the murdered father: your mother is the guilty queen, Ann
Shakespeare,bornHathaway?
Butthispryingintothefamilylifeofagreatman,Russellbeganimpatiently.
Artthouthere,truepenny?
Interestingonlytotheparishclerk.Imean,wehavetheplays.Imeanwhenwereadthe
poetryofKingLearwhatisittoushowthepoetlived?Asforlivingourservantscandothat
for us, Villiers de l'Isle has said. Peeping and prying into greenroom gossip of the day, the
poet'sdrinking,thepoet'sdebts.WehaveKingLear:anditisimmortal.
MrBest'sface,appealedto,agreed.
Flowoverthemwithyourwavesandwithyourwaters,Mananaan,MananaanMacLir...
Hownow,sirrah,thatpoundhelentyouwhenyouwerehungry?
Marry,Iwantedit.
Takethouthisnoble.
Goto!YouspentmostofitinGeorginaJohnson'sbed,clergyman'sdaughter.Agenbiteof
inwit.
Doyouintendtopayitback?
O,yes.
When?Now?
Well...No.
When,then?
Ipaidmyway.Ipaidmyway.
Steadyon.He'sfrombeyantBoynewater.Thenortheastcorner.Youoweit.
Wait.Fivemonths.Moleculesallchange.IamotherInow.OtherIgotpound.
Buzz.Buzz.
ButI,entelechy,formofforms,amIbymemorybecauseundereverchangingforms.
Ithatsinnedandprayedandfasted.
AchildConmeesavedfrompandies.
I,IandI.I.
A.E.I.O.U.
Doyoumeantoflyinthefaceofthetraditionofthreecenturies?JohnEglinton'scarping
voiceasked.Herghostatleasthasbeenlaidforever.Shedied,forliteratureatleast,before
shewasborn.
Shedied,Stephenretorted,sixtysevenyearsaftershewasborn.Shesawhimintoandout
oftheworld.Shetookhisfirstembraces.Sheborehischildrenandshelaidpenniesonhis
eyestokeephiseyelidsclosedwhenhelayonhisdeathbed.
Mother'sdeathbed.Candle.Thesheetedmirror.Whobroughtmeintothisworldliesthere,
bronzelidded,underfewcheapflowers.Liliatarutilantium.
Iweptalone.
JohnEglintonlookedinthetangledglowwormofhislamp.

TheworldbelievesthatShakespearemadeamistake,hesaid,andgotoutofitasquickly
andasbesthecould.
Bosh!Stephensaidrudely.Amanofgeniusmakesnomistakes.Hiserrorsarevolitional
andaretheportalsofdiscovery.
Portalsofdiscoveryopenedtoletinthequakerlibrarian,softcreakfooted,bald,earedand
assiduous.
A shrew, John Eglinton said shrewdly, is not a useful portal of discovery, one should
imagine.WhatusefuldiscoverydidSocrateslearnfromXanthippe?
Dialectic,Stephenanswered:andfromhismotherhowtobringthoughtsintotheworld.
WhathelearntfromhisotherwifeMyrto(absitnomen!), Socratididion's Epipsychidion, no
man,notawoman,willeverknow.Butneitherthemidwife'slorenorthecaudlelecturessaved
himfromthearchonsofSinnFeinandtheirnagginofhemlock.
ButAnnHathaway?MrBest'squietvoicesaidforgetfully.Yes,weseemtobeforgetting
herasShakespearehimselfforgother.
Hislookwentfrombrooder'sbeardtocarper'sskull,toremind,tochidethemnotunkindly,
thentothebaldpinklollardcostard,guiltlessthoughmaligned.
He had a good groatsworth of wit, Stephen said, and no truant memory. He carried a
memory in his wallet as he trudged to Romeville whistlingThe girl I left behind me.Ifthe
earthquakedidnottimeitweshouldknowwheretoplacepoorWat,sittinginhisform,the
cryofhounds,thestuddedbridleandherbluewindows.Thatmemory,VenusandAdonis,lay
in the bedchamber of every lightoflove in London. Is Katharine the shrew illfavoured?
Hortensiocallsheryoungandbeautiful.DoyouthinkthewriterofAntonyandCleopatra, a
passionatepilgrim,hadhiseyesinthebackofhisheadthathechosetheugliestdoxyinall
Warwickshire to lie withal? Good: he left her and gained the world of men. But his
boywomen are the women of a boy. Their life, thought, speech are lent them by males. He
chose badly? He was chosen, it seems to me. If others have their will Ann hath a way. By
cock, she was to blame. She put the comether on him, sweet and twentysix. The greyeyed
goddesswhobendsovertheboyAdonis,stoopingtoconquer,asprologuetotheswellingact,
isaboldfacedStratfordwenchwhotumblesinacornfieldaloveryoungerthanherself.
Andmyturn?When?
Come!
Ryefield,MrBestsaidbrightly,gladly,raisinghisnewbook,gladly,brightly.
Hemurmuredthenwithblonddelightforall:
BetweentheacresoftheryeTheseprettycountryfolkwouldlie.
Paris:thewellpleasedpleaser.
Atallfigureinbeardedhomespunrosefromshadowandunveileditscooperativewatch.
IamafraidIamdueattheHomestead.
Whitheraway?Exploitableground.
Are you going? John Eglinton's active eyebrows asked. Shall we see you at Moore's
tonight?Piperiscoming.
Piper!MrBestpiped.IsPiperback?
PeterPiperpeckedapeckofpickofpeckofpickledpepper.
Idon'tknowifIcan.Thursday.Wehaveourmeeting.IfIcangetawayintime.
Yogibogeybox in Dawson chambers. Isis Unveiled. Their Pali book we tried to pawn.
Crosslegged under an umbrel umbershoot he thrones an Aztec logos, functioning on astral
levels, their oversoul, mahamahatma. The faithful hermetists await the light, ripe for
chelaship,ringroundabouthim.LouisH.Victory.T.CaulfieldIrwin.Lotusladiestendthem
i'theeyes, their pineal glands aglow. Filled with his god, he thrones, Buddh underplantain.
Gulferofsouls,engulfer.Hesouls,shesouls,shoalsofsouls.Engulfedwithwailingcreecries,

whirled,whirling,theybewail.
Inquintessentialtriviality
Foryearsinthisfleshcaseashesouldwelt.

Theysaywearetohavealiterarysurprise,thequakerlibrariansaid,friendlyandearnest.
MrRussell,rumourhasit,isgatheringtogetherasheafofouryoungerpoets'verses.Weare
alllookingforwardanxiously.
Anxiouslyheglancedintheconeoflamplightwherethreefaces,lighted,shone.
Seethis.Remember.
Stephen looked down on a wide headless caubeen, hung on his ashplanthandle over his
knee.Mycasqueandsword.Touchlightlywithtwoindexfingers.Aristotle'sexperiment.One
ortwo?Necessityisthatinvirtueofwhichitisimpossiblethatonecanbeotherwise.Argal,
onehatisonehat.
Listen.
YoungColumandStarkey.GeorgeRobertsisdoingthecommercialpart.Longworthwill
giveitagoodpuffintheExpress.O,willhe?IlikedColum'sDrover.Yes,Ithinkhehasthat
queer thing genius. Do you think he has genius really? Yeats admired his line: As in wild
earth a Grecian vase. Did he? I hope you'll be able to come tonight. Malachi Mulligan is
coming too. Moore asked him to bring Haines. Did you hear Miss Mitchell's joke about
MooreandMartyn?ThatMooreisMartyn'swildoats?Awfullyclever,isn'tit?Theyremind
oneofDonQuixoteandSanchoPanza.Ournationalepichasyettobewritten,DrSigerson
says. Moore is the man for it. A knight of the rueful countenance here in Dublin. With a
saffronkilt?O'NeillRussell?O,yes,hemustspeakthegrandoldtongue.AndhisDulcinea?
JamesStephensisdoingsomecleversketches.Wearebecomingimportant,itseems.
Cordelia.Cordoglio.Lir'sloneliestdaughter.
Nookshotten.NowyourbestFrenchpolish.
Thankyouverymuch,MrRussell,Stephensaid,rising.Ifyouwillbesokindastogive
thelettertoMrNorman...
O,yes.Ifheconsidersitimportantitwillgoin.Wehavesomuchcorrespondence.
Iunderstand,Stephensaid.Thanks.
Godildyou.Thepigs'paper.Bullockbefriending.
SyngehaspromisedmeanarticleforDanatoo.Arewegoingtoberead?Ifeelweare.The
GaelicleaguewantssomethinginIrish.Ihopeyouwillcomeroundtonight.BringStarkey.
Stephensatdown.
Thequakerlibrariancamefromtheleavetakers.Blushing,hismasksaid:
MrDedalus,yourviewsaremostilluminating.
Hecreakedtoandfro,tiptoingupnearerheavenbythealtitudeofachopine,and,covered
bythenoiseofoutgoing,saidlow:
Isityourview,then,thatshewasnotfaithfultothepoet?
Alarmedfaceasksme.Whydidhecome?Courtesyoraninwardlight?
Wherethereisareconciliation,Stephensaid,theremusthavebeenfirstasundering.
Yes.
Christfox in leather trews, hiding, a runaway in blighted treeforks, from hue and cry.
Knowing no vixen, walking lonely in the chase. Women he won to him, tender people, a
whoreofBabylon,ladiesofjustices,bullytapsters'wives.Foxandgeese.AndinNewPlacea
slackdishonouredbodythatoncewascomely,onceassweet,asfreshascinnamon,nowher
leavesfalling,all,bare,frightedofthenarrowgraveandunforgiven.
Yes.Soyouthink...
Thedoorclosedbehindtheoutgoer.

Restsuddenlypossessedthediscreetvaultedcell,restofwarmandbroodingair.
Avestal'slamp.
Herehepondersthingsthatwerenot:whatCaesarwouldhavelivedtodohadhebelieved
the soothsayer: what might have been: possibilities of the possible as possible: things not
known:whatnameAchillesborewhenhelivedamongwomen.
Coffinedthoughtsaroundme,inmummycases,embalmedinspiceofwords.Thoth,godof
libraries, a birdgod, moonycrowned. And I heard the voice of that Egyptian highpriest. In
paintedchambersloadedwithtilebooks.
Theyarestill.Oncequickinthebrainsofmen.Still:butanitchofdeathisinthem,totell
meinmyearamaudlintale,urgemetowreaktheirwill.
Certainly, John Eglinton mused, of all great men he is the most enigmatic. We know
nothing but that he lived and suffered. Not even so much. Others abide our question. A
shadowhangsoveralltherest.
ButHamletissopersonal,isn'tit?MrBestpleaded.Imean,akindofprivatepaper,don't
youknow,ofhisprivatelife.Imean,Idon'tcareabutton,don'tyouknow,whoiskilledor
whoisguilty...
Herestedaninnocentbookontheedgeofthedesk,smilinghisdefiance.Hisprivatepapers
intheoriginal.Taanbadarantir.Taiminmoshagart.Putbeurlaonit,littlejohn.
QuothlittlejohnEglinton:
IwaspreparedforparadoxesfromwhatMalachiMulligantoldusbutImayaswellwarn
you that if you want to shake my belief that Shakespeare is Hamlet you have a stern task
beforeyou.
Bearwithme.
Stephen withstood the bane of miscreant eyes glinting stern under wrinkled brows. A
basilisk.Equandovedel'uomol'attosca.MesserBrunetto,Ithanktheefortheword.
Aswe,ormotherDana,weaveandunweaveourbodies,Stephensaid,fromdaytoday,
theirmoleculesshuttledtoandfro,sodoestheartistweaveandunweavehisimage.Andas
themoleonmyrightbreastiswhereitwaswhenIwasborn,thoughallmybodyhasbeen
wovenofnewstufftimeaftertime,sothroughtheghostoftheunquietfathertheimageofthe
unlivingsonlooksforth.Intheintenseinstantofimagination,whenthemind,Shelleysays,is
afadingcoal,thatwhichIwasisthatwhichIamandthatwhichinpossibilityImaycometo
be.Sointhefuture,thesisterofthepast,ImayseemyselfasIsitherenowbutbyreflection
fromthatwhichthenIshallbe.
DrummondofHawthorndenhelpedyouatthatstile.
Yes,MrBestsaidyoungly.IfeelHamletquiteyoung.Thebitternessmightbefromthe
fatherbutthepassageswithOpheliaaresurelyfromtheson.
Hasthewrongsowbythelug.Heisinmyfather.Iaminhisson.
Thatmoleisthelasttogo,Stephensaid,laughing.
JohnEglintonmadeanothingpleasingmow.
Ifthatwerethebirthmarkofgenius,hesaid,geniuswouldbeadruginthemarket.The
playsofShakespeare'slateryearswhichRenanadmiredsomuchbreatheanotherspirit.
Thespiritofreconciliation,thequakerlibrarianbreathed.
Therecanbenoreconciliation,Stephensaid,iftherehasnotbeenasundering.
Saidthat.
Ifyouwanttoknowwhataretheeventswhichcasttheirshadowoverthehelloftimeof
KingLear,Othello,Hamlet,TroilusandCressida,looktoseewhenandhowtheshadowlifts.
What softens the heart of a man, shipwrecked in storms dire, Tried, like another Ulysses,
Pericles,princeofTyre?
Head,redconecapped,buffeted,brineblinded.

Achild,agirl,placedinhisarms,Marina.
The leaning of sophists towards the bypaths of apocrypha is a constant quantity, John
Eglintondetected.Thehighroadsaredrearybuttheyleadtothetown.
Good Bacon: gone musty. Shakespeare Bacon's wild oats. Cypherjugglers going the
highroads.Seekersonthegreatquest.Whattown,goodmasters?Mummedinnames:A.E.,
eon:Magee,JohnEglinton.Eastofthesun,westofthemoon:Tirnanog.Bootedthetwain
andstaved.
HowmanymilestoDublin?Threescoreandten,sir.Willwebetherebycandlelight?
MrBrandesacceptsit,Stephensaid,asthefirstplayoftheclosingperiod.
Doeshe?WhatdoesMrSidneyLee,orMrSimonLazarusassomeaverhisnameis,say
ofit?
Marina,Stephensaid,achildofstorm,Miranda,awonder,Perdita,thatwhichwaslost.
Whatwaslostisgivenbacktohim:hisdaughter'schild.Mydearestwife,Periclessays,was
likethismaid.Willanymanlovethedaughterifhehasnotlovedthemother?
Theartofbeingagrandfather,MrBestganmurmur.l'artd'tregrand...
Willhenotseereborninher,withthememoryofhisownyouthadded,anotherimage?
Doyouknowwhatyouaretalkingabout?Love,yes.Wordknowntoallmen.Amorvero
aliquidalicuibonumvultundeeteaquaeconcupiscimus...
Hisownimagetoamanwiththatqueerthinggeniusisthestandardofallexperience,
materialandmoral.Suchanappealwilltouchhim.Theimagesofothermalesofhisblood
will repel him. He will see in them grotesque attempts of nature to foretell or to repeat
himself.
Thebenignforeheadofthequakerlibrarianenkindledrosilywithhope.
IhopeMrDedaluswillworkouthistheoryfortheenlightenmentofthepublic.Andwe
oughttomentionanotherIrishcommentator,MrGeorgeBernardShaw.Norshouldweforget
Mr Frank Harris. His articles on Shakespeare in the Saturday Review were surely brilliant.
Oddlyenoughhetoodrawsforusanunhappyrelationwiththedarkladyofthesonnets.The
favouredrivalisWilliamHerbert,earlofPembroke.Iownthatifthepoetmustberejected
sucharejectionwouldseemmoreinharmonywithwhatshallIsay?ournotionsofwhat
oughtnottohavebeen.
Felicitouslyheceasedandheldameekheadamongthem,auk'segg,prizeoftheirfray.
Hethousandtheesherwithgravehusbandwords.Dostlove,Miriam?Dostlovethyman?
That may be too, Stephen said. There's a saying of Goethe's which Mr Magee likes to
quote.Bewareofwhatyouwishforinyouthbecauseyouwillgetitinmiddlelife.Whydoes
he send to one who is a buonaroba, a bay where all men ride, a maid of honour with a
scandalousgirlhood,alordlingtowooforhim?Hewashimselfalordoflanguageandhad
made himself a coistrel gentleman and he had written Romeo and Juliet. Why? Belief in
himselfhasbeenuntimelykilled.Hewasoverborneinacornfieldfirst(ryefield,Ishouldsay)
andhewillneverbeavictorinhisowneyesafternorplayvictoriouslythegameoflaughand
lie down. Assumed dongiovannism will not save him. No later undoing will undo the first
undoing.Thetuskoftheboarhaswoundedhimtherewhereloveliesableeding.Iftheshrew
isworstedyetthereremainstoherwoman'sinvisibleweapon.Thereis,Ifeelinthewords,
somegoadofthefleshdrivinghimintoanewpassion,adarkershadowofthefirst,darkening
evenhisownunderstandingofhimself.Alikefateawaitshimandthetworagescommingle
inawhirlpool.
Theylist.AndintheporchesoftheirearsIpour.
Thesoulhasbeenbeforestrickenmortally,apoisonpouredintheporch of a sleeping
ear.Butthosewhoaredonetodeathinsleepcannotknowthemanneroftheirquellunless
theirCreatorendowtheirsoulswiththatknowledgeinthelifetocome.Thepoisoningandthe
beast with two backs that urged it King Hamlet's ghost could not know of were he not

endowedwithknowledgebyhiscreator.Thatiswhythespeech(hisleanunlovelyEnglish)is
alwaysturnedelsewhere,backward.Ravisherandravished,whathewouldbutwouldnot,go
with him from Lucrece's bluecircled ivory globes to Imogen's breast, bare, with its mole
cinquespotted.Hegoesback,wearyofthecreationhehaspileduptohidehimfromhimself,
anolddoglickinganoldsore.But,becauselossishisgain,hepassesontowardseternityin
undiminished personality, untaught by the wisdom he has written or by the laws he has
revealed.Hisbeaverisup.Heisaghost,ashadownow,thewindbyElsinore'srocksorwhat
youwill,thesea'svoice,avoiceheardonlyintheheartofhimwhoisthesubstanceofhis
shadow,thesonconsubstantialwiththefather.
Amen!wasrespondedfromthedoorway.
Hastthoufoundme,Omineenemy?
Entr'acte.
A ribald face, sullen as a dean's, Buck Mulligan came forward, then blithe in motley,
towardsthegreetingoftheirsmiles.Mytelegram.
Youwerespeakingofthegaseousvertebrate,ifImistakenot?heaskedofStephen.
PrimrosevestedhegreetedgailywithhisdoffedPanamaaswithabauble.
Theymakehimwelcome.WasDuverlachstwirstDunochdienen.
Broodofmockers:Photius,pseudomalachi,JohannMost.
He Who Himself begot middler the Holy Ghost and Himself sent Himself, Agenbuyer,
betweenHimselfandothers,Who,putuponbyHisfiends,strippedandwhipped,wasnailed
likebattobarndoor,starvedoncrosstree,WholetHimbury,stoodup,harrowedhell,fared
intoheavenandtherethesenineteenhundredyearssittethontherighthandofHisOwnSelf
butyetshallcomeinthelatterdaytodoomthequickanddeadwhenallthequickshallbe
deadalready.
GlooriainexcelsisDeo.
Heliftshishands.Veilsfall.O,flowers!Bellswithbellswithbellsaquiring.
Yes,indeed,thequakerlibrariansaid.Amostinstructivediscussion.MrMulligan,I'llbe
bound, has his theory too of the play and of Shakespeare. All sides of life should be
represented.
Hesmiledonallsidesequally.
BuckMulliganthought,puzzled:
Shakespeare?hesaid.Iseemtoknowthename.
Aflyingsunnysmilerayedinhisloosefeatures.
Tobesure,hesaid,rememberingbrightly.ThechapthatwriteslikeSynge.
MrBestturnedtohim.
Hainesmissedyou,hesaid.Didyoumeethim?He'llseeyouafterattheD.B.C.He's
gonetoGill'stobuyHyde'sLovesongsofConnacht.
Icamethroughthemuseum,BuckMulligansaid.Washehere?
The bard's fellowcountrymen, John Eglinton answered, are rather tired perhaps of our
brilliancies of theorising. I hear that an actress playedHamletforthefourhundredandeighth
timelastnightinDublin.Viningheldthattheprincewasawoman.Hasnoonemadehimout
to be an Irishman? Judge Barton, I believe, is searching for some clues. He swears (His
HighnessnotHisLordship)bysaintPatrick.
The most brilliant of all is that story of Wilde's, Mr Best said, lifting his brilliant
notebook.ThatPortraitofMrW.H.whereheprovesthatthesonnetswerewrittenbyaWillie
Hughes,amanallhues.
ForWillieHughes,isitnot?thequakerlibrarianasked.
OrHughieWills?MrWilliamHimself.W.H.:whoamI?

I mean, for Willie Hughes, Mr Best said, amending his gloss easily. Of course it's all
paradox,don'tyouknow,Hughesandhewsandhues,thecolour,butit'ssotypicalthewayhe
worksitout.It'stheveryessenceofWilde,don'tyouknow.Thelighttouch.
Hisglancetouchedtheirfaceslightlyashesmiled,ablondephebe.TameessenceofWilde.
You'redarnedwitty.ThreedramsofusquebaughyoudrankwithDanDeasy'sducats.
HowmuchdidIspend?O,afewshillings.
Foraplumpofpressmen.Humourwetanddry.
Wit. You would give your five wits for youth's proud livery he pranks in. Lineamentsof
gratifieddesire.
Therebemanymo.Takeherforme.Inpairingtime.Jove,acoolruttimesendthem.Yea,
turtledoveher.
Eve.Nakedwheatbelliedsin.Asnakecoilsher,fangin'skiss.
Doyouthinkitisonlyaparadox?thequakerlibrarianwasasking.Themockerisnever
takenseriouslywhenheismostserious.
Theytalkedseriouslyofmocker'sseriousness.
BuckMulligan'sagainheavyfaceeyedStephenawhile.Then,hisheadwagging,hecame
near,drewafoldedtelegramfromhispocket.Hismobilelipsread,smilingwithnewdelight.
Telegram!hesaid.Wonderfulinspiration!Telegram!Apapalbull!
Hesatonacorneroftheunlitdesk,readingaloudjoyfully:
Thesentimentalistishewhowouldenjoywithoutincurringtheimmensedebtorshipfora
thingdone. Signed: Dedalus. Where did you launch it from? The kips? No. College Green.
Have you drunk the four quid? The aunt is going to call on your unsubstantial father.
Telegram!MalachiMulligan,TheShip,lowerAbbeystreet.O,youpeerlessmummer!O,you
priestifiedKinchite!
Joyfullyhethrustmessageandenvelopeintoapocketbutkeenedinaquerulousbrogue:
It'swhatI'mtellingyou,misterhoney,it'squeerandsickwewere,Hainesandmyself,
thetimehimselfbroughtitin.'Twasmurmurwedidforagalluspotionwouldrouseafriar,
I'm thinking, and he limp with leching. And we one hour and two hours and three hours in
Connery'ssittingcivilwaitingforpintsapiece.
Hewailed:
And we to be there, mavrone, and you to be unbeknownst sending us your
conglomerationsthewaywetohaveourtonguesoutayardlonglikethedrouthyclericsdobe
faintingforapussful.
Stephenlaughed.
Quickly,warningfullyBuckMulliganbentdown.
ThetramperSyngeislookingforyou,hesaid,tomurderyou.Heheardyoupissedonhis
halldoorinGlasthule.He'soutinpampootiestomurderyou.
Me!Stephenexclaimed.Thatwasyourcontributiontoliterature.
BuckMulligangleefullybentback,laughingtothedarkeavesdroppingceiling.
Murderyou!helaughed.
Harsh gargoyle face that warred against me over our mess of hash of lights in rue Saint
AndrdesArts.Inwordsofwordsforwords,palabras.OisinwithPatrick.Faunmanhemet
in Clamart woods, brandishing a winebottle. C'est vendredi saint! Murthering Irish. His
image,wandering,hemet.Imine.Imetafooli'theforest.
MrLyster,anattendantsaidfromthedoorajar.
... in which everyone can find his own. So Mr Justice Madden in his Diary of Master
WilliamSilencehasfoundthehuntingterms...Yes?Whatisit?
There's a gentleman here, sir, the attendant said, coming forward and offering a card.

FromtheFreeman.HewantstoseethefilesoftheKilkennyPeopleforlastyear.
Certainly,certainly,certainly.Isthegentleman?...
He took the eager card, glanced, not saw, laid down unglanced, looked, asked, creaked,
asked:
Ishe?...O,there!
Brisk in a galliard he was off, out. In the daylit corridor he talked with volublepainsof
zeal,indutybound,mostfair,mostkind,mosthonestbroadbrim.
This gentleman? Freeman's Journal? Kilkenny People? To be sure. Good day, sir.
Kilkenny...Wehavecertainly...
Apatientsilhouettewaited,listening.
All the leading provincial... Northern Whig, Cork Examiner, Enniscorthy Guardian,
1903...Willyouplease?...Evans,conductthisgentleman...Ifyoujustfollowtheatten...Or,
pleaseallowme...Thisway...Please,sir...
Voluble,dutiful,heledthewaytoalltheprovincialpapers,abowingdarkfigurefollowing
hishastyheels.
Thedoorclosed.
Thesheeny!BuckMulligancried.
Hejumpedupandsnatchedthecard.
What'shisname?IkeyMoses?Bloom.
Herattledon:
Jehovah,collectorofprepuces,isnomore.IfoundhimoverinthemuseumwhereIwent
tohailthefoambornAphrodite.TheGreekmouththathasneverbeentwistedinprayer.Every
daywemustdohomagetoher.Lifeoflife,thylipsenkindle.
SuddenlyheturnedtoStephen:
Heknowsyou.Heknowsyouroldfellow.O,Ifearme,heisGreekerthantheGreeks.
HispaleGalileaneyeswereuponhermesialgroove.VenusKallipyge.O,thethunderofthose
loins!Thegodpursuingthemaidenhid.
Wewanttohearmore,JohnEglintondecidedwithMrBest'sapproval.Webegintobe
interestedinMrsS.Tillnowwehadthoughtofher,ifatall,asapatientGriselda,aPenelope
stayathome.
Antisthenes, pupil of Gorgias, Stephen said, took the palm of beauty from Kyrios
Menelaus' brooddam, Argive Helen, the wooden mare of Troy in whom a score of heroes
slept,andhandedittopoorPenelope.TwentyyearshelivedinLondonand,duringpartof
thattime,hedrewasalaryequaltothatofthelordchancellorofIreland.Hislifewasrich.His
art, more than the art of feudalism as Walt Whitman called it, is the art of surfeit. Hot
herringpies, green mugs of sack, honeysauces, sugar of roses, marchpane, gooseberried
pigeons,ringocandies.SirWalterRaleigh,whentheyarrestedhim,hadhalfamillionfrancs
onhisbackincludingapairoffancystays.ThegombeenwomanElizaTudorhadunderlinen
enoughtoviewithherofSheba.Twentyyearshedalliedtherebetweenconjugialloveandits
chastedelightsandscortatoryloveanditsfoulpleasures.YouknowManningham'sstoryof
theburgher'swifewhobadeDickBurbagetoherbedaftershehadseenhiminRichardIII
and how Shakespeare, overhearing, without more ado about nothing, took the cow by the
horns and, when Burbage came knocking at the gate, answered from the capon's blankets:
WilliamtheconquerorcamebeforeRichardIII.Andthegaylakin,mistressFitton,mountand
cry O, and his dainty birdsnies, lady Penelope Rich, a clean quality woman is suited for a
player,andthepunksofthebankside,apennyatime.
CourslaReine.Encorevingtsous.Nousferonsdepetitescochonneries.Minette?Tuveux?
Theheightoffinesociety.AndsirWilliamDavenantofoxford'smotherwithhercupof
canaryforanycockcanary.

BuckMulligan,hispiouseyesupturned,prayed:
BlessedMargaretMaryAnycock!
AndHarryofsixwives'daughter.AndotherladyfriendsfromneighbourseatsasLawn
Tennyson, gentleman poet, sings. But all those twenty years what do you suppose poor
PenelopeinStratfordwasdoingbehindthediamondpanes?
Do and do. Thing done. In a rosery of Fetter lane of Gerard, herbalist, he walks,
greyedauburn.Anazuredharebelllikeherveins.LidsofJuno'seyes,violets.Hewalks.One
life is all. One body. Do. But do. Afar, in a reek of lust and squalor, hands are laid on
whiteness.
BuckMulliganrappedJohnEglinton'sdesksharply.
Whomdoyoususpect?hechallenged.
Say that he is the spurned lover in the sonnets. Once spurned twice spurned. But the
courtwantonspurnedhimforalord,hisdearmylove.
Lovethatdarenotspeakitsname.
AsanEnglishman,youmean,JohnsturdyEglintonputin,helovedalord.
Oldwallwheresuddenlizardsflash.AtCharentonIwatchedthem.
It seems so, Stephen said, when he wants to do for him, and for all otherandsingular
unearedwombs,theholyofficeanostlerdoesforthestallion.Maybe,likeSocrates,hehada
midwife to mother as he had a shrew to wife. But she, the giglot wanton, did not break a
bedvow.Twodeedsarerankinthatghost'smind:abrokenvowandthedullbrainedyokelon
whomherfavourhasdeclined,deceasedhusband'sbrother.SweetAnn,Itakeit,washotin
theblood.Onceawooer,twiceawooer.
Stephenturnedboldlyinhischair.
Theburdenofproofiswithyounotwithme,hesaidfrowning.Ifyoudenythatinthe
fifthsceneofHamlethehasbrandedherwithinfamytellmewhythereisnomentionofher
duringthethirtyfouryearsbetweenthedayshemarriedhimandthedaysheburiedhim.All
thosewomensawtheirmendownandunder:Mary,hergoodmanJohn,Ann,herpoordear
Willun, when he went and died on her, raging that he was the first to go, Joan, her four
brothers,Judith,herhusbandandallhersons,Susan,herhusbandtoo,whileSusan'sdaughter,
Elizabeth,tousegranddaddy'swords,wedhersecond,havingkilledherfirst.
O,yes,mentionthereis.IntheyearswhenhewaslivingrichlyinroyalLondontopaya
debtshehadtoborrowfortyshillingsfromherfather'sshepherd.Explainyouthen.Explain
theswansongtoowhereinhehascommendedhertoposterity.
Hefacedtheirsilence.
TowhomthusEglinton:
Youmeanthewill.
Butthathasbeenexplained,Ibelieve,byjurists.
Shewasentitledtoherwidow'sdower
Atcommonlaw.Hislegalknowledgewasgreat
Ourjudgestellus.
HimSatanfleers,
Mocker:
Andthereforeheleftouthername
Fromthefirstdraftbuthedidnotleaveout
Thepresentsforhisgranddaughter,forhisdaughters,
Forhissister,forhisoldcroniesinStratford
AndinLondon.Andthereforewhenhewasurged,
AsIbelieve,tonameher
Heleftherhis
Secondbest
Bed.
Punkt.
Leftherhis
Secondbest
Leftherhis

Bestabed
Secabest
Leftabed.

Woa!
Prettycountryfolkhadfewchattelsthen,JohnEglintonobserved,astheyhavestillifour
peasantplaysaretruetotype.
Hewasarichcountrygentleman,Stephensaid,withacoatofarmsandlandedestateat
StratfordandahouseinIrelandyard,acapitalistshareholder,abillpromoter,atithefarmer.
Whydidhenotleaveherhisbestbedifhewishedhertosnoreawaytherestofhernightsin
peace?
It is clear that there were two beds, a best and a secondbest, Mr SecondbestBestsaid
finely.
Separatioamensaetathalamo,betteredBuckMulliganandwassmiledon.
Antiquitymentionsfamousbeds,SecondEglintonpuckered,bedsmiling.Letmethink.
AntiquitymentionsthatStagyriteschoolurchinandbaldheathensage,Stephensaid,who
whendyinginexilefreesandendowshisslaves,paystributetohiselders,willstobelaidin
earth near the bones of his dead wife and bids his friends be kind to an old mistress (don't
forgetNellGwynnHerpyllis)andletherliveinhisvilla.
Doyoumeanhediedso?MrBestaskedwithslightconcern.Imean...
Hedieddeaddrunk,BuckMulligancapped.Aquartofaleisadishforaking.O,Imust
tellyouwhatDowdensaid!
What?askedBesteglinton.
William Shakespeare and company, limited. The people's William. For terms apply: E.
Dowden,Highfieldhouse...
Lovely!BuckMulligansuspiredamorously.Iaskedhimwhathethoughtofthecharge
ofpederastybroughtagainstthebard.Heliftedhishandsandsaid:Allwecansayisthatlife
ranveryhighinthosedays.Lovely!
Catamite.
Thesenseofbeautyleadsusastray,saidbeautifulinsadnessBesttouglingEglinton.
SteadfastJohnrepliedsevere:
Thedoctorcantelluswhatthosewordsmean.Youcannoteatyourcakeandhaveit.
Sayestthouso?Willtheywrestfromus,fromme,thepalmofbeauty?
Andthesenseofproperty,Stephensaid.HedrewShylockoutofhisownlongpocket.
Thesonofamaltjobberandmoneylenderhewashimselfacornjobberandmoneylender,with
ten tods of corn hoarded in the famine riots. His borrowers are no doubt those divers of
worship mentioned by Chettle Falstaff who reported his uprightness of dealing. He sued a
fellowplayerforthepriceofafewbagsofmaltandexactedhispoundoffleshininterestfor
every money lent. How else could Aubrey's ostler and callboy get rich quick? All events
broughtgristtohismill.Shylockchimes with the jewbaiting that followed the hanging and
quartering of the queen's leech Lopez, his jew's heart being plucked forth while the sheeny
wasyetalive:HamletandMacbethwiththecomingtothethroneofaScotchphilosophaster
withaturnforwitchroasting.ThelostarmadaishisjeerinLove'sLabourLost.Hispageants,
thehistories,sailfullbelliedonatideofMafekingenthusiasm.Warwickshirejesuitsaretried
andwehaveaporter'stheoryofequivocation.TheSeaVenturecomeshomefromBermudas
andtheplayRenanadmirediswrittenwithPatsyCaliban,ourAmericancousin.Thesugared
sonnetsfollowSidney's.AsforfayElizabeth,otherwisecarrottyBess,thegrossvirginwho
inspiredTheMerryWivesofWindsor,letsomemeinherrfromAlmanygropehislifelongfor
deephidmeaningsinthedepthsofthebuckbasket.
Ithinkyou'regettingonverynicely.Justmixupamixtureoftheolologicophilolological.
Mingo,minxi,mictum,mingere.

Provethathewasajew,JohnEglintondared,'expectantly.Yourdeanofstudiesholdshe
wasaholyRoman.
Sufflaminandussum.
He was made in Germany, Stephen replied, as the champion French polisherofItalian
scandals.
Amyriadmindedman,MrBestreminded.Coleridgecalledhimmyriadminded.
Amplius.Insocietatehumanahocestmaximenecessariumutsitamicitiaintermultos.
SaintThomas,Stephenbegan...
Orapronobis,MonkMulligangroaned,sinkingtoachair.
Therehekeenedawailingrune.
Poguemahone!Acushlamachree!It'sdestroyedwearefromthisday!It'sdestroyedwe
aresurely!
Allsmiledtheirsmiles.
Saint Thomas, Stephen smiling said, whose gorbellied works I enjoy reading in the
original, writing of incest from a standpoint different from that of the new Viennese school
MrMageespokeof,likensitinhiswiseandcuriouswaytoanavariceoftheemotions.He
meansthatthelovesogiventoonenearinbloodiscovetouslywithheldfromsomestranger
who, it may be, hungers for it. Jews, whom christians tax with avarice, are of all races the
mostgiventointermarriage.Accusationsaremadeinanger.Thechristianlawswhichbuiltup
thehoardsofthejews(forwhom,asforthelollards,stormwasshelter)boundtheiraffections
too with hoops of steel. Whether these be sins or virtues old Nobodaddy will tell us at
doomsdayleet.Butamanwhoholdssotightlytowhathecallshisrightsoverwhathecalls
hisdebtswillholdtightlyalsotowhathecallshisrightsoverherwhomhecallshiswife.No
sirsmileneighbourshallcovethisoxorhiswifeorhismanservantorhismaidservantorhis
jackass.
Orhisjennyass,BuckMulliganantiphoned.
GentleWillisbeingroughlyhandled,gentleMrBestsaidgently.
Whichwill?gaggedsweetlyBuckMulligan.Wearegettingmixed.
Thewilltolive,JohnEglintonphilosophised,forpoorAnn,Will'swidow,isthewillto
die.
Requiescat!Stephenprayed.
Whatofallthewilltodo?
Ithasvanishedlongago...

Shelieslaidoutinstarkstiffnessinthatsecondbestbed,themobledqueen,eventhough
youprovethatabedinthosedayswasasrareasamotorcarisnowandthatitscarvingswere
thewonderofsevenparishes.Inoldageshetakesupwithgospellers(onestayedwithherat
NewPlaceanddrankaquartofsackthetowncouncilpaidforbutinwhichbed he slept it
skills not to ask) and heard she had a soul. She read or had read to her his chapbooks
preferringthemtotheMerryWivesand,loosinghernightlywatersonthejordan,shethought
over Hooks and Eyes for Believers' Breeches and The most Spiritual Snuffbox to Make the
MostDevoutSoulsSneeze.Venushastwistedherlipsinprayer.Agenbiteofinwit:remorseof
conscience.Itisanageofexhaustedwhoredomgropingforitsgod.
History shows that to be true, inquit Eglintonus Chronolologos. The ages succeed one
another.Butwehaveitonhighauthoritythataman'sworstenemiesshallbethoseofhisown
houseandfamily.IfeelthatRussellisright.Whatdowecareforhiswifeorfather?Ishould
saythatonlyfamilypoetshavefamilylives.Falstaffwasnotafamilyman.Ifeelthatthefat
knightishissupremecreation.
Lean,helayback.Shy,denythykindred,theuncoguid.Shy,suppingwiththegodless,he
sneaksthecup.AsireinUltonianAntrimbadeithim.Visits him here on quarter days. Mr

Magee, sir, there's a gentleman to see you. Me? Says he's your father, sir. Give me my
Wordsworth.EnterMageeMorMatthew,aruggedroughrugheadedkern,instrosserswitha
buttonedcodpiece,hisnetherstocksbemiredwithclauberoftenforests,awandofwildingin
hishand.
Yourown?Heknowsyouroldfellow.Thewidower.
HurryingtohersqualiddeathlairfromgayParisonthequaysideItouchedhishand.The
voice,newwarmth,speaking.DrBobKennyisattendingher.Theeyesthatwishmewell.But
donotknowme.
A father, Stephen said, battling against hopelessness, is a necessary evil. He wrote the
playinthemonthsthatfollowedhisfather'sdeath.Ifyouholdthathe,agreyingmanwithtwo
marriageabledaughters,withthirtyfiveyearsoflife,nelmezzodelcammindinostravita,with
fiftyofexperience,isthebeardlessundergraduatefromWittenbergthen you must hold that
hisseventyyearoldmotheristhelustfulqueen.No.ThecorpseofJohnShakespearedoesnot
walkthenight.Fromhourtohouritrotsandrots.Herests,disarmedoffatherhood,having
devisedthatmysticalestateuponhisson.Boccaccio'sCalandrinowasthefirstandlastman
whofelthimselfwithchild.Fatherhood,inthesenseofconscious begetting, is unknown to
man.Itisamysticalestate,anapostolicsuccession,fromonlybegettertoonlybegotten.On
thatmysteryandnotonthemadonnawhichthecunningItalianintellectflungtothemobof
Europe the church is founded and founded irremovably because founded, like the world,
macro and microcosm, upon the void. Upon incertitude, upon unlikelihood. Amor matris,
subjectiveandobjectivegenitive,maybetheonlytruethinginlife.Paternitymaybealegal
fiction.Whoisthefatherofanysonthatanysonshouldlovehimorheanyson?
Whatthehellareyoudrivingat?
Iknow.Shutup.Blastyou.Ihavereasons.
Amplius.Adhuc.Iterum.Postea.
Areyoucondemnedtodothis?
Theyaresunderedbyabodilyshamesosteadfastthatthecriminalannalsoftheworld,
stainedwithallotherincestsandbestialities,hardlyrecorditsbreach.Sonswithmothers,sires
with daughters, lesbic sisters, loves that dare not speak their name, nephews with
grandmothers,jailbirdswithkeyholes,queenswithprizebulls.Thesonunbornmarsbeauty:
born, he brings pain, divides affection, increases care. He is a new male: his growth is his
father'sdecline,hisyouthhisfather'senvy,hisfriendhisfather'senemy.
InrueMonsieurlePrinceIthoughtit.
Whatlinkstheminnature?Aninstantofblindrut.
AmIafather?IfIwere?
Shrunkenuncertainhand.
Sabellius, the African, subtlest heresiarch of all the beasts of the field, held that the
Father was Himself His Own Son. The bulldog of Aquin, with whom no word shall be
impossible,refuteshim.Well:ifthefatherwhohasnotasonbenotafathercanthesonwho
hasnotafatherbeason?WhenRutlandbaconsouthamptonshakespeareoranotherpoetofthe
samenameinthecomedyoferrorswroteHamlethewasnotthefatherofhisownsonmerely
but,beingnomoreason,hewasandfelthimselfthefatherofallhisrace,thefatherofhis
owngrandfather,thefatherofhisunborngrandsonwho,bythesametoken,neverwasborn,
fornature,asMrMageeunderstandsher,abhorsperfection.
Eglintoneyes,quickwithpleasure,lookedupshybrightly.Gladlyglancing,amerrypuritan,
throughthetwistedeglantine.
Flatter.Rarely.Butflatter.
Himselfhisownfather,Sonmulligantoldhimself.Wait.Iambigwithchild.Ihavean
unbornchildinmybrain.PallasAthena!Aplay!Theplay'sthething!Letmeparturiate!
Heclaspedhispaunchbrowwithbothbirthaidinghands.

Asforhisfamily,Stephensaid,hismother'snamelivesintheforestofArden.Herdeath
brought from him the scene with Volumnia in Coriolanus. His boyson's death is the
deathsceneofyoungArthurinKingJohn.Hamlet,theblackprince,isHamnetShakespeare.
Who the girls in The Tempest, in Pericles, in Winter's Tale are we know. Who Cleopatra,
fleshpotofEgypt,andCressidandVenusarewemayguess.Butthereisanothermemberof
hisfamilywhoisrecorded.
Theplotthickens,JohnEglintonsaid.
Thequakerlibrarian,quaking,tiptoedin,quake,hismask,quake,withhaste,quake,quack.
Doorclosed.Cell.Day.
Theylist.Three.They.
Iyouhethey.
Come,mess.
STEPHEN: He had three brothers, Gilbert, Edmund, Richard. Gilbert in his old age told
somecavaliershegotapassfornowtfromMaisterGathereronetimemasshedidandheseen
hisbrudMaisterWulltheplaywriterupinLunnoninawrastlingplaywudamanon'sback.
TheplayhousesausagefilledGilbert'ssoul.Heisnowhere:butanEdmundandaRichardare
recordedintheworksofsweetWilliam.
MAGEEGLINJOHN:Names!What'sinaname?
BEST:Thatismyname,Richard,don'tyouknow.Ihopeyouaregoingtosayagoodword
forRichard,don'tyouknow,formysake.(Laughter)
BUCKMULLIGAN:(Piano,diminuendo)
ThenoutspokemedicalDick
TohiscomrademedicalDavy...

STEPHEN: In his trinity of black Wills, the villain shakebags, Iago, RichardCrookback,
EdmundinKingLear,twobearthewickeduncles'names.Nay,thatlastplaywaswrittenor
beingwrittenwhilehisbrotherEdmundlaydyinginSouthwark.
BEST:IhopeEdmundisgoingtocatchit.Idon'twantRichard,myname...
(Laughter)
QUAKERLYSTER:(Atempo)Buthethatfilchesfrommemygoodname...
STEPHEN:(Stringendo)Hehashiddenhisownname,afairname,William,intheplays,a
superhere,aclownthere,asapainterofoldItalysethisfaceinadarkcornerofhiscanvas.
HehasrevealeditinthesonnetswherethereisWillinoverplus.LikeJohno'Gaunthisname
isdeartohim,asdearasthecoatandcresthetoadiedfor,onabendsableaspearorsteeled
argent,honorificabilitudinitatibus,dearerthanhisgloryofgreatestshakesceneinthecountry.
What'sinaname?Thatiswhatweaskourselvesinchildhoodwhenwewritethenamethat
we are told is ours. A star, a daystar, a firedrake, rose at his birth. It shone by day in the
heavensalone,brighterthanVenusinthenight,andbynightitshoneoverdeltainCassiopeia,
the recumbent constellation which is the signature of his initial among the stars. His eyes
watchedit,lowlying on the horizon, eastward of the bear, as he walked by the slumberous
summerfieldsatmidnightreturningfromShotteryandfromherarms.
Bothsatisfied.Itoo.
Don'ttellthemhewasnineyearsoldwhenitwasquenched.
Andfromherarms.
Waittobewooedandwon.Ay,meacock.Whowillwooyou?
Read the skies. Autontimorumenos. Bous Stephanoumenos. Where's your configuration?
Stephen, Stephen, cut the bread even. S. D: sua donna. Gi: di lui. gelindo risolve di non
amareS.D.
Whatisthat,MrDedalus?thequakerlibrarianasked.Wasitacelestialphenomenon?

Astarbynight,Stephensaid.Apillarofthecloudbyday.
Whatmore'stospeak?
Stephenlookedonhishat,hisstick,hisboots.
Stephanos,mycrown.Mysword.Hisbootsarespoilingtheshapeofmyfeet.Buyapair.
Holesinmysocks.Handkerchieftoo.
You make good use of the name, John Eglinton allowed. Your own name is strange
enough.Isupposeitexplainsyourfantasticalhumour.
Me,MageeandMulligan.
Fabulous artificer. The hawklike man. You flew. Whereto? NewhavenDieppe, steerage
passenger. Paris and back. Lapwing. Icarus. Pater, ait. Seabedabbled, fallen, weltering.
Lapwingyouare.Lapwingbe.
MrBesteagerquietlyliftedhisbooktosay:
That'sveryinterestingbecausethatbrothermotive,don'tyouknow,wefindalsointhe
oldIrishmyths.Justwhatyousay.ThethreebrothersShakespeare.InGrimmtoo,don'tyou
know,thefairytales.Thethirdbrotherthatalwaysmarriesthesleepingbeautyandwinsthe
bestprize.
BestofBestbrothers.Good,better,best.
Thequakerlibrarianspringhaltednear.
Ishouldliketoknow,hesaid,whichbrotheryou...Iunderstandyoutosuggesttherewas
misconductwithoneofthebrothers...ButperhapsIamanticipating?
Hecaughthimselfintheact:lookedatall:refrained.
Anattendantfromthedoorwaycalled:
MrLyster!FatherDineenwants...
O,FatherDineen!Directly.
Swiftlyrectlycreakingrectlyrectlyhewasrectlygone.
JohnEglintontouchedthefoil.
Come,hesaid.LetushearwhatyouhavetosayofRichardandEdmund.Youkeptthem
forthelast,didn'tyou?
InaskingyoutorememberthosetwonoblekinsmennuncleRichieandnuncleEdmund,
Stephenanswered,IfeelIamaskingtoomuchperhaps.Abrotherisaseasilyforgottenasan
umbrella.
Lapwing.
Whereisyourbrother?Apothecaries'hall.Mywhetstone.Him,thenCranly,Mulligan:now
these.Speech,speech.Butact.Actspeech.Theymocktotryyou.Act.Beactedon.
Lapwing.
Iamtiredofmyvoice,thevoiceofEsau.Mykingdomforadrink.
On.
Youwillsaythosenameswerealreadyinthechroniclesfromwhichhetookthestuffof
his plays. Why did he take them rather than others? Richard, a whoreson crookback,
misbegotten, makes love to a widowed Ann (what's in a name?), woos and wins her, a
whoreson merry widow. Richard the conqueror, third brother, came after William the
conquered. The other four acts of that play hang limply from that first. Of all his kings
RichardistheonlykingunshieldedbyShakespeare'sreverence,theangeloftheworld.Why
is the underplot of King Lear in which Edmund figures lifted out of Sidney's Arcadia and
spatchcockedontoaCelticlegendolderthanhistory?
ThatwasWill'sway,JohnEglintondefended.WeshouldnotnowcombineaNorsesaga
withanexcerptfromanovelbyGeorgeMeredith.Quevoulezvous? Moore would say. He
putsBohemiaontheseacoastandmakesUlyssesquoteAristotle.

Why?Stephenansweredhimself.Becausethethemeofthefalseortheusurpingorthe
adulterous brother or all three in one is to Shakespeare, what the poor are not, always with
him. The note of banishment, banishment from the heart, banishment from home, sounds
uninterruptedly from The Two Gentlemen of Verona onward till Prospero breaks his staff,
buriesitcertainfathomsintheearthanddrownshisbook.Itdoublesitselfinthemiddleofhis
life,reflectsitselfinanother,repeatsitself,protasis,epitasis,catastasis,catastrophe.Itrepeats
itselfagainwhenheisnearthegrave,whenhismarrieddaughterSusan,chipoftheoldblock,
isaccusedofadultery.Butitwastheoriginalsinthatdarkenedhisunderstanding,weakened
hiswillandleftinhimastronginclinationtoevil.Thewordsarethoseofmylordsbishopsof
Maynooth. An original sin and, like original sin, committedbyanotherinwhosesinhetoo
has sinned. It is between the lines of his last written words, it is petrified on his tombstone
underwhichherfourbonesarenottobelaid.Agehasnotwitheredit.Beautyandpeacehave
notdoneitaway.Itisininfinitevarietyeverywhereintheworldhehascreated,inMuchAdo
aboutNothing,twiceinAsyoulikeIt,inTheTempest,inHamlet,inMeasureforMeasure
andinalltheotherplayswhichIhavenotread.
Helaughedtofreehismindfromhismind'sbondage.
JudgeEglintonsummedup.
Thetruthismidway,heaffirmed.Heistheghostandtheprince.Heisallinall.
He is, Stephen said. The boy of act one is the mature man of act five. All in all. In
Cymbeline,inOthelloheisbawdandcuckold.Heactsandisactedon.Loverofanidealora
perversion,likeJosehekillstherealCarmen.HisunremittingintellectisthehornmadIago
ceaselesslywillingthatthemoorinhimshallsuffer.
Cuckoo!Cuckoo!CuckMulligancluckedlewdly.Owordoffear!
Darkdomereceived,reverbed.
And what a character is Iago! undaunted John Eglinton exclaimed. When all is said
Dumasfils(orisitDumaspre?)isright.AfterGodShakespearehascreatedmost.
Mandelightshimnotnorwomanneither,Stephensaid.Hereturnsafteralifeofabsence
to that spot of earth where he was born, where he has always been, man and boy, a silent
witnessandthere,hisjourneyoflifeended,heplantshismulberrytreeintheearth.Thendies.
Themotionisended.GravediggersburyHamlet(pre?)andHamletfils.Akingandaprince
atlastindeath,withincidentalmusic.And,whatthoughmurderedandbetrayed,beweptby
all frail tender hearts for, Dane or Dubliner, sorrow for the dead is the only husband from
whom they refuse to be divorced. If you like the epilogue look long on it: prosperous
Prospero,thegoodmanrewarded,Lizzie,grandpa'slumpoflove,andnuncleRichie,thebad
man taken off by poetic justice to the place where the bad niggers go. Strong curtain. He
found in the world without as actual what was in his world within as possible. Maeterlinck
says:IfSocratesleavehishousetodayhewillfindthesageseatedonhisdoorstep.IfJudasgo
forthtonightitistoJudashisstepswilltend.Everylifeismanydays,dayafterday.Wewalk
through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows,
brothersinlove, but always meeting ourselves. The playwright who wrote the folio of this
worldandwroteitbadly(Hegaveuslightfirstandthesuntwodayslater),thelordofthings
astheyarewhomthemostRomanofcatholicscalldioboia,hangmangod,isdoubtlessallin
allinallofus,ostlerandbutcher,andwouldbebawdandcuckoldtoobutthatintheeconomy
ofheaven, foretold by Hamlet, there are no moremarriages,glorified man, an androgynous
angel,beingawifeuntohimself.
Eureka!BuckMulligancried.Eureka!
SuddenlyhappiedhejumpedupandreachedinastrideJohnEglinton'sdesk.
MayI?hesaid.TheLordhasspokentoMalachi.
Hebegantoscribbleonaslipofpaper.
Takesomeslipsfromthecountergoingout.
Those who are married, Mr Best, douce herald, said, all save one, shall live. The rest

shallkeepastheyare.
Helaughed,unmarried,atEglintonJohannes,ofartsabachelor.
Unwed, unfancied, ware of wiles, they fingerponder nightly each his variorum edition of
TheTamingoftheShrew.
Youareadelusion,saidroundlyJohnEglintontoStephen.Youhavebroughtusallthis
waytoshowusaFrenchtriangle.Doyoubelieveyourowntheory?
No,Stephensaidpromptly.
Are you going to write it? Mr Best asked. You ought to make it a dialogue, don't you
know,likethePlatonicdialoguesWildewrote.
JohnEclecticondoublysmiled.
Well,inthatcase,hesaid,Idon'tseewhyyoushouldexpectpaymentforitsinceyou
don't believe it yourself. Dowden believes there is some mystery in Hamlet but will say no
more. Herr Bleibtreu, the man Piper met in Berlin, who is working up that Rutland theory,
believesthatthesecretishiddenintheStratfordmonument.Heisgoingtovisitthepresent
duke,Pipersays,andprovetohimthathisancestorwrotetheplays.Itwillcomeasasurprise
tohisgrace.Buthebelieveshistheory.
Ibelieve,OLord,helpmyunbelief.Thatis,helpmetobelieveorhelpmetounbelieve?
Whohelpstobelieve?Egomen.Whotounbelieve?Otherchap.
YouaretheonlycontributortoDanawhoasksforpiecesofsilver.ThenIdon'tknow
aboutthenextnumber.FredRyanwantsspaceforanarticleoneconomics.
Fraidrine.Twopiecesofsilverhelentme.Tideyouover.Economics.
Foraguinea,Stephensaid,youcanpublishthisinterview.
Buck Mulligan stood up from his laughing scribbling, laughing: and then gravely said,
honeyingmalice:
IcalleduponthebardKinchathissummerresidenceinupperMecklenburghstreetand
foundhimdeepinthestudyoftheSummacontraGentilesinthecompanyoftwogonorrheal
ladies,FreshNellyandRosalie,thecoalquaywhore.
Hebrokeaway.
Come,Kinch.Come,wanderingAengusofthebirds.
Come,Kinch.Youhaveeatenallweleft.Ay.Iwillserveyouyourortsandoffals.
Stephenrose.
Lifeismanydays.Thiswillend.
Weshallseeyoutonight,JohnEglintonsaid.NotreamiMoore says Malachi Mulligan
mustbethere.
BuckMulliganflauntedhisslipandpanama.
MonsieurMoore,hesaid,lectureronFrenchletterstotheyouthofIreland.I'llbethere.
Come,Kinch,thebardsmustdrink.Canyouwalkstraight?
Laughing,he...
Swilltilleleven.Irishnightsentertainment.
Lubber...
Stephenfollowedalubber...
One day in the national library we had a discussion. Shakes. After. His lub back: I
followed.Igallhiskibe.
Stephen,greeting,thenallamort,followedalubberjester,awellkempthead,newbarbered,
outofthevaultedcellintoashatteringdaylightofnothought.
WhathaveIlearned?Ofthem?Ofme?
WalklikeHainesnow.

The constant readers' room. In the readers' book Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice
Tisdall Farrell parafes his polysyllables. Item: was Hamlet mad? The quaker's pate godlily
withapriesteeninbooktalk.
Opleasedo,sir...Ishallbemostpleased...
AmusedBuckMulliganmusedinpleasantmurmurwithhimself,selfnodding:
Apleasedbottom.
Theturnstile.
Isthat?...Blueribbonedhat...Idlywriting...What?Looked?...
Thecurvingbalustrade:smoothslidingMincius.
PuckMulligan,panamahelmeted,wentstepbystep,iambing,trolling:
JohnEglinton,myjo,John,Whywon'tyouwedawife?
Hesplutteredtotheair:
O, the chinless Chinaman! Chin Chon Eg Lin Ton. We went over to their playbox,
HainesandI,theplumbers'hall.OurplayersarecreatinganewartforEuropeliketheGreeks
orM.Maeterlinck.AbbeyTheatre!Ismellthepubicsweatofmonks.
Hespatblank.
Forgot:anymorethanheforgotthewhippinglousyLucygavehim.Andleftthefemmede
trenteans.Andwhynootherchildrenborn?Andhisfirstchildagirl?
Afterwit.Goback.
Thedourreclusestillthere(hehashiscake)andthedouceyoungling,minionofpleasure,
Phedo'stoyablefairhair.
Eh...Ijusteh...wanted...Iforgot...he...
LongworthandM'CurdyAtkinsonwerethere...
PuckMulliganfootedfeatly,trilling:
Ihardlyhearthepurlieucry
OratommytalkasIpassoneby
Beforemythoughtsbegintorun
OnF.M'CurdyAtkinson,
Thesamethathadthewoodenleg
Andthatfilibusteringfilibeg
Thatneverdaredtoslakehisdrouth,
Mageethathadthechinlessmouth.
Beingafraidtomarryonearth
Theymasturbatedforalltheywereworth.

Jeston.Knowthyself.
Halted,belowme,aquizzerlooksatme.Ihalt.
Mournfulmummer,BuckMulliganmoaned.Syngehasleftoffwearingblacktobelike
nature.Onlycrows,priestsandEnglishcoalareblack.
Alaughtrippedoverhislips.
Longworthisawfullysick,hesaid,afterwhatyouwroteaboutthatoldhakeGregory.O
youinquisitionaldrunkenjewjesuit!Shegetsyouajobonthepaperandthenyougoandslate
herdriveltoJaysus.Couldn'tyoudotheYeatstouch?
Hewentonanddown,mopping,chantingwithwavinggracefularms:
The most beautiful book that has come out of our country in my time. One thinks of
Homer.
Hestoppedatthestairfoot.
Ihaveconceivedaplayforthemummers,hesaidsolemnly.
The pillared Moorish hall, shadows entwined. Gone the nine men's morrice with caps of
indices.

In sweetly varying voices Buck Mulligan read his tablet: Everyman His own Wife or A
HoneymoonintheHand(anationalimmoralityinthreeorgasms)byBallockyMulligan.
Heturnedahappypatch'ssmirktoStephen,saying:
Thedisguise,Ifear,isthin.Butlisten.
Heread,marcato:
Characters:
TODYTOSTOFF(aruinedPole)
CRAB(abushranger)
MEDICALDICK)
and)(twobirdswithonestone)
MEDICALDAVY)
MOTHERGROGAN(awatercarrier)
FRESHNELLY
and
ROSALIE(thecoalquaywhore).

Helaughed,lollingatoandfrohead,walkingon,followedbyStephen:andmirthfullyhe
toldtheshadows,soulsofmen:
O,thenightintheCamdenhallwhenthedaughtersofErinhadtolifttheirskirtstostep
overyouasyoulayinyourmulberrycoloured,multicoloured,multitudinousvomit!
ThemostinnocentsonofErin,Stephensaid,forwhomtheyeverliftedthem.
Abouttopassthroughthedoorway,feelingonebehind,hestoodaside.
Part.Themomentisnow.Wherethen?IfSocratesleavehishousetoday,ifJudasgoforth
tonight.Why?ThatliesinspacewhichIintimemustcometo,ineluctably.
Mywill:hiswillthatfrontsme.Seasbetween.
Amanpassedoutbetweenthem,bowing,greeting.
Gooddayagain,BuckMulligansaid.
Theportico.
HereIwatchedthebirdsforaugury.Aengusofthebirds.Theygo,theycome.LastnightI
flew.Easilyflew.Menwondered.Streetofharlotsafter.Acreamfruitmelonheheldtome.
In.Youwillsee.
Thewandering jew, Buck Mulliganwhisperedwithclown's awe. Did you see his eye?
Helookeduponyoutolustafteryou.Ifearthee,ancientmariner.O,Kinch,thouartinperil.
Gettheeabreechpad.
MannerofOxenford.
Day.Wheelbarrowsunoverarchofbridge.
Adarkbackwentbeforethem,stepofapard,down,outbythegateway,underportcullis
barbs.
Theyfollowed.
Offendmestill.Speakon.
KindairdefinedthecoignsofhousesinKildarestreet.Nobirds.Frailfromthehousetops
twoplumesofsmokeascended,pluming,andinaflawofsoftnesssoftlywereblown.
Ceasetostrive.PeaceofthedruidpriestsofCymbeline:hierophantic:fromwideearthan
altar.
Laudwethegods
Andletourcrookedsmokesclimbtotheirnostrils
Fromourbless'daltars.

The superior, the very reverend John Conmee S.J. reset his smooth watch in his interior
pocketashecamedownthepresbyterysteps.Fivetothree.JustnicetimetowalktoArtane.
Whatwasthatboy'snameagain?Dignam.Yes.Veredignumetiustumest.BrotherSwanwas

the person to see. Mr Cunningham's letter. Yes. Oblige him, if possible. Good practical
catholic:usefulatmissiontime.
Aoneleggedsailor,swinginghimselfonwardbylazyjerksofhiscrutches,growledsome
notes.Hejerkedshortbeforetheconventofthesistersofcharityandheldoutapeakedcap
foralmstowardstheveryreverendJohnConmeeS.J.FatherConmeeblessedhiminthesun
forhispurseheld,heknew,onesilvercrown.
FatherConmeecrossedtoMountjoysquare.Hethought,butnotforlong,ofsoldiersand
sailors,whoselegshadbeenshotoffbycannonballs,endingtheirdaysinsomepauperward,
andofcardinalWolsey'swords:IfIhadservedmyGodasIhaveservedmykingHewould
nothaveabandonedmeinmyolddays.Hewalkedbythetreeshadeofsunnywinkingleaves:
andtowardshimcamethewifeofMrDavidSheehyM.P.
Verywell,indeed,father.Andyou,father?
Father Conmee was wonderfully well indeed. He would go to Buxton probably for the
waters.Andherboys,weretheygettingonwellatBelvedere?Wasthatso?FatherConmee
wasverygladindeedtohearthat.AndMrSheehyhimself?StillinLondon.Thehousewas
still sitting, to be sure it was. Beautiful weather it was, delightful indeed. Yes, it was very
probable that Father Bernard Vaughan would come again to preach. O, yes: a very great
success.Awonderfulmanreally.
FatherConmeewasverygladtoseethewifeofMrDavidSheehyM.P.Iookingsowelland
hebeggedtoberememberedtoMrDavidSheehyM.P.Yes,hewouldcertainlycall.
Goodafternoon,MrsSheehy.
Father Conmee doffed his silk hat and smiled, as he took leave, at the jet beads of her
mantillainkshininginthesun.Andsmiledyetagain,ingoing.Hehadcleanedhisteeth,he
knew,witharecanutpaste.
FatherConmeewalkedand,walking,smiledforhethoughtonFatherBernardVaughan's
drolleyesandcockneyvoice.
Pilate!Wydon'tyouoldbackthatowlinmob?
Azealousman,however.Reallyhewas.Andreallydidgreatgoodinhisway.Beyonda
doubt.HelovedIreland,hesaid,andhelovedtheIrish.Ofgoodfamilytoowouldonethink
it?Welsh,weretheynot?
O,lestheforget.Thatlettertofatherprovincial.
FatherConmeestoppedthreelittleschoolboysatthecornerofMountjoysquare.Yes:they
werefromBelvedere.Thelittlehouse.Aha.Andweretheygoodboysatschool?O.Thatwas
verygoodnow.Andwhatwashisname?JackSohan.Andhisname?Ger.Gallaher.Andthe
otherlittleman?HisnamewasBrunnyLynam.O,thatwasaverynicenametohave.
FatherConmeegavealetterfromhisbreasttoMasterBrunnyLynamandpointed to the
redpillarboxatthecornerofFitzgibbonstreet.
Butmindyoudon'tpostyourselfintothebox,littleman,hesaid.
TheboyssixeyedFatherConmeeandlaughed:
O,sir.
Well,letmeseeifyoucanpostaletter,FatherConmeesaid.
Master Brunny Lynam ran across the road and put Father Conmee's letter to father
provincialintothemouthofthebrightredletterbox.FatherConmeesmiledandnoddedand
smiledandwalkedalongMountjoysquareeast.
MrDenisJMaginni,professorofdancing&c,insilkhat,slatefrockcoatwithsilkfacings,
white kerchief tie, tight lavender trousers, canary gloves and pointed patent boots, walking
withgravedeportmentmostrespectfullytookthecurbstoneashepassedladyMaxwellatthe
cornerofDignam'scourt.
WasthatnotMrsM'Guinness?

Mrs M'Guinness, stately, silverhaired,bowed toFatherConmeefrom thefarther footpath


alongwhichshesailed.AndFatherConmeesmiledandsaluted.Howdidshedo?
Afinecarriageshehad.LikeMary,queenofScots,something.Andtothinkthatshewasa
pawnbroker!Well,now!Sucha...whatshouldhesay?...suchaqueenlymien.
FatherConmeewalkeddownGreatCharlesstreetandglancedattheshutupfreechurchon
hisleft.ThereverendT.R.GreeneB.A.will(D.V.)speak.Theincumbenttheycalledhim.
He felt it incumbent on him to say a few words. But one should be charitable. Invincible
ignorance.Theyactedaccordingtotheirlights.
Father Conmee turned the corner and walked along the North Circular road. It was a
wonderthattherewasnotatramlineinsuchanimportantthoroughfare.Surely,thereoughtto
be.
A band of satchelled schoolboys crossed from Richmond street. All raised untidy caps.
FatherConmeegreetedthemmorethanoncebenignly.Christianbrotherboys.
Father Conmee smelt incense on his right hand as he walked. Saint Joseph's church,
Portland row. For aged and virtuous females. Father Conmee raised his hat to the Blessed
Sacrament.Virtuous:butoccasionallytheywerealsobadtempered.
NearAldboroughhouseFatherConmeethoughtofthatspendthriftnobleman.Andnowit
wasanofficeorsomething.
FatherConmeebegantowalkalongtheNorthStrandroadandwassalutedbyMrWilliam
Gallagher who stood in the doorway of his shop. Father Conmee saluted Mr William
Gallagherandperceivedtheodoursthatcamefrombaconflitchesandamplecoolsofbutter.
HepassedGrogan'stheTobacconistagainstwhichnewsboardsleanedandtoldofadreadful
catastropheinNewYork.InAmericathosethingswerecontinuallyhappening. Unfortunate
peopletodielikethat,unprepared.Still,anactofperfectcontrition.
Father Conmee went by Daniel Bergin's publichouse against the window of which two
unlabouringmenlounged.Theysalutedhimandweresaluted.
Father Conmee passed H. J. O'Neill's funeral establishment where Corny Kelleher totted
figuresinthedaybookwhilehechewedabladeofhay.AconstableonhisbeatsalutedFather
ConmeeandFatherConmeesalutedtheconstable.InYoukstetter's,theporkbutcher's,Father
Conmeeobservedpig'spuddings,whiteandblackandred,lieneatlycurledintubes.
Moored under the trees of Charleville Mall Father Conmee saw a turfbarge, a towhorse
with pendent head, a bargeman with a hat of dirty straw seated amidships, smoking and
staring at abranch of poplarabovehim. It was idyllic:andFatherConmeereflectedonthe
providenceoftheCreatorwhohadmadeturftobeinbogswhencemenmightdigitoutand
bringittotownandhamlettomakefiresinthehousesofpoorpeople.
OnNewcomenbridgetheveryreverendJohnConmeeS.J.ofsaintFrancisXavier'schurch,
upperGardinerstreet,steppedontoanoutwardboundtram.
Off an inward bound tram stepped the reverend Nicholas Dudley C. C. of saint Agatha's
church,northWilliamstreet,ontoNewcomenbridge.
AtNewcomenbridgeFatherConmeesteppedintoanoutwardboundtramforhedislikedto
traverseonfootthedingywaypastMudIsland.
FatherConmeesatinacornerofthetramcar,abluetickettuckedwithcareintheeyeof
oneplumpkidglove,whilefourshillings,asixpenceandfivepennieschutedfromhisother
plumpglovepalmintohispurse.Passingtheivychurchhereflectedthattheticketinspector
usuallymadehisvisitwhenonehadcarelesslythrownawaytheticket.Thesolemnityofthe
occupants of the car seemed to Father Conmee excessive for a journey so short and cheap.
FatherConmeelikedcheerfuldecorum.
Itwasapeacefulday.ThegentlemanwiththeglassesoppositeFatherConmeehadfinished
explaining and looked down. His wife, Father Conmee supposed. A tiny yawn opened the
mouthofthewifeofthegentlemanwiththeglasses.Sheraisedhersmallglovedfist,yawned
ever so gently, tiptapping her small gloved fist on her opening mouth and smiled tinily,

sweetly.
FatherConmeeperceivedherperfumeinthecar.Heperceivedalsothattheawkwardman
attheothersideofherwassittingontheedgeoftheseat.
FatherConmeeatthealtarrailsplacedthehostwithdifficultyinthemouthoftheawkward
oldmanwhohadtheshakyhead.
At Annesley bridge the tram halted and, when it was about to go, an old woman rose
suddenlyfromherplacetoalight.Theconductorpulledthebellstraptostaythecarforher.
Shepassedoutwithherbasketandamarketnet:andFatherConmeesawtheconductorhelp
herandnetandbasketdown:andFatherConmeethoughtthat,asshehadnearlypassedthe
endofthepennyfare,shewasoneofthosegoodsoulswhohadalwaystobetoldtwicebless
you,mychild, that they have been absolved, prayforme. But they had so many worries in
life,somanycares,poorcreatures.
FromthehoardingsMrEugeneStrattongrimacedwiththickniggerlipsatFatherConmee.
FatherConmeethoughtofthesoulsofblackandbrownandyellowmenandofhissermon
onsaintPeterClaverS.J.andtheAfricanmissionandofthepropagationofthefaithandof
themillionsofblackandbrownandyellowsoulsthathadnotreceivedthebaptismofwater
whentheirlasthourcamelikeathiefinthenight.ThatbookbytheBelgianjesuit,LeNombre
deslus,seemed to Father Conmee areasonableplea.Those were millions of human souls
createdbyGodinHisOwnlikenesstowhomthefaithhadnot(D.V.)beenbrought.Butthey
wereGod'ssouls,createdbyGod.ItseemedtoFatherConmeeapitythattheyshouldallbe
lost,awaste,ifonemightsay.
AttheHowthroadstopFatherConmeealighted,wassalutedbytheconductorandsaluted
inhisturn.
TheMalahideroadwasquiet.ItpleasedFatherConmee,roadandname.Thejoybellswere
ringing in gay Malahide. Lord Talbot de Malahide, immediate hereditary lord admiral of
Malahide and the seas adjoining. Then came the call to arms and she was maid, wife and
widowinoneday.Thosewereoldworldishdays,loyaltimesinjoyoustownlands,oldtimes
inthebarony.
FatherConmee,walking,thoughtofhislittlebookOldTimesintheBaronyandofthebook
thatmightbewrittenaboutjesuithousesandofMaryRochfort,daughteroflordMolesworth,
firstcountessofBelvedere.
Alistlesslady,nomoreyoung,walkedalonetheshoreofloughEnnel,Mary,firstcountess
ofBelvedere,listlesslywalkingintheevening,notstartledwhenanotterplunged.Whocould
knowthetruth?NotthejealouslordBelvedereandnotherconfessorifshehadnotcommitted
adulteryfully,eiaculatioseminisintervasnaturalemulieris,withherhusband'sbrother?She
wouldhalfconfessifshehadnotallsinnedaswomendid.OnlyGodknewandsheandhe,
herhusband'sbrother.
FatherConmeethoughtofthattyrannousincontinence,neededhoweverforman'sraceon
earth,andofthewaysofGodwhichwerenotourways.
Don John Conmee walked and moved in times of yore. He was humane and honoured
there.Heboreinmindsecretsconfessedandhesmiledatsmilingnoblefacesinabeeswaxed
drawingroom, ceiled with full fruit clusters. And the hands of a bride and of a bridegroom,
nobletonoble,wereimpalmedbyDonJohnConmee.
Itwasacharmingday.
The lychgate of a field showed Father Conmee breadths of cabbages, curtseying to him
with ample underleaves. The sky showed him a flock of small white clouds going slowly
downthewind.Moutonner,theFrenchsaid.Ajustandhomelyword.
FatherConmee,readinghisoffice,watchedaflockofmuttoningcloudsoverRathcoffey.
His thinsocked ankles were tickled by the stubble of Clongowes field. He walked there,
readingintheevening,andheardthecriesoftheboys'linesattheirplay,youngcriesinthe
quietevening.Hewastheirrector:hisreignwasmild.

FatherConmeedrewoffhisglovesandtookhisrededgedbreviaryout.Anivorybookmark
toldhimthepage.
Nones.Heshouldhavereadthatbeforelunch.ButladyMaxwellhadcome.
FatherConmeereadinsecretPaterandAveandcrossedhisbreast.Deusinadiutorium.
Hewalkedcalmlyandreadmutelythenones,walkingandreadingtillhecametoRes in
Beati immaculati: Principium verborum tuorum veritas: in eternum omnia indicia iustitiae
tuae.
Aflushedyoungmancamefromagapofahedgeandafterhimcameayoungwomanwith
wildnoddingdaisiesinherhand.Theyoungmanraisedhiscapabruptly:theyoungwoman
abruptlybentandwithslowcaredetachedfromherlightskirtaclingingtwig.
FatherConmeeblessedbothgravelyandturnedathinpageofhisbreviary.Sin:Principes
persecutisuntmegratis:etaverbistuisformidavitcormeum.
Corny Kelleher closed his long daybook and glanced with his drooping eye at a pine
coffinlidsentriedinacorner.Hepulledhimselferect,wenttoitand,spinningitonitsaxle,
vieweditsshapeandbrassfurnishings.Chewinghisbladeofhayhelaidthecoffinlidbyand
cametothedoorway.Therehetiltedhishatbrimtogiveshadetohiseyesandleanedagainst
thedoorcase,lookingidlyout.
FatherJohnConmeesteppedintotheDollymounttramonNewcomenbridge.
Corny Kelleher locked his largefooted boots and gazed, his hat downtilted, chewing his
bladeofhay.
Constable57C,onhisbeat,stoodtopassthetimeofday.
That'safineday,MrKelleher.
Ay,CornyKellehersaid.
It'sveryclose,theconstablesaid.
CornyKelleherspedasilentjetofhayjuicearchingfromhismouthwhileagenerouswhite
armfromawindowinEcclesstreetflungforthacoin.
What'sthebestnews?heasked.
Iseenthatparticularpartylastevening,theconstablesaidwithbatedbreath.
A onelegged sailor crutched himself round MacConnell's corner, skirting Rabaiotti's
icecreamcar,andjerkedhimselfupEcclesstreet.TowardsLarryO'Rourke,inshirtsleevesin
hisdoorway,hegrowledunamiably:
ForEngland...
HeswunghimselfviolentlyforwardpastKateyandBoodyDedalus,haltedandgrowled:
homeandbeauty.
J.J.O'Molloy'swhitecarewornfacewastoldthatMrLambertwasinthewarehousewitha
visitor.
Astoutladystopped,tookacoppercoinfromherpurseanddroppeditintothecapheldout
toher.Thesailorgrumbledthanks,glancedsourlyattheunheedingwindows,sankhishead
andswunghimselfforwardfourstrides.
Hehaltedandgrowledangrily:
ForEngland...
Two barefoot urchins, sucking long liquorice laces, halted near him, gaping at his stump
withtheiryellowslobberedmouths.
Heswunghimselfforwardinvigorousjerks,halted,liftedhisheadtowardsawindowand
bayeddeeply:
homeandbeauty.

The gay sweet chirping whistling within went on a bar or two, ceased. The blind of the
windowwasdrawnaside.AcardUnfurnishedApartmentsslippedfromthesashandfell.A
plumpbaregenerousarmshone,wasseen,heldforthfromawhitepetticoatbodiceandtaut
shiftstraps.Awoman'shandflungforthacoinoverthearearailings.Itfellonthepath.
Oneoftheurchinsrantoit,pickeditupanddroppeditintotheminstrel'scap,saying:
There,sir.
KateyandBoodyDedalusshovedinthedooroftheclosesteamingkitchen.
Didyouputinthebooks?Boodyasked.
Maggy at the range rammed down a greyish mass beneath bubbling suds twice with her
potstickandwipedherbrow.
Theywouldn'tgiveanythingonthem,shesaid.
FatherConmeewalkedthroughClongowesfields,histhinsockedanklestickledbystubble.
Wheredidyoutry?Boodyasked.
M'Guinness's.
Boodystampedherfootandthrewhersatchelonthetable.
Badcesstoherbigface!shecried.
Kateywenttotherangeandpeeredwithsquintingeyes.
What'sinthepot?sheasked.
Shirts,Maggysaid.
Boodycriedangrily:
Crickey,istherenothingforustoeat?
Katey,liftingthekettlelidinapadofherstainedskirt,asked:
Andwhat'sinthis?
Aheavyfumegushedinanswer.
Peasoup,Maggysaid.
Wheredidyougetit?Kateyasked.
SisterMaryPatrick,Maggysaid.
Thelacqueyranghisbell.
Barang!
Boodysatdownatthetableandsaidhungrily:
Giveusithere.
Maggypouredyellowthicksoupfromthekettleintoabowl.Katey,sittingoppositeBoody,
saidquietly,asherfingertipliftedtohermouthrandomcrumbs:
Agoodjobwehavethatmuch.Where'sDilly?
Gonetomeetfather,Maggysaid.
Boody,breakingbigchunksofbreadintotheyellowsoup,added:
Ourfatherwhoartnotinheaven.
Maggy,pouringyellowsoupinKatey'sbowl,exclaimed:
Boody!Forshame!
A skiff, a crumpled throwaway, Elijah is coming, rode lightly down the Liffey, under
Loopline bridge, shooting the rapids where water chafed around the bridgepiers, sailing
eastwardpasthullsandanchorchains,betweentheCustomhouseolddockandGeorge'squay.
The blond girl in Thornton's bedded the wicker basket with rustling fibre. Blazes Boylan
handedherthebottleswathedinpinktissuepaperandasmalljar.

Puttheseinfirst,willyou?hesaid.
Yes,sir,theblondgirlsaid.Andthefruitontop.
That'lldo,gameball,BlazesBoylansaid.
Shebestowedfatpearsneatly,headbytail,andamongthemripeshamefacedpeaches.
BlazesBoylanwalkedhereandthereinnewtanshoesaboutthefruitsmellingshop,lifting
fruits,youngjuicycrinkledandplumpredtomatoes,sniffingsmells.
H. E. L. Y.'S filed before him, tallwhitehatted, past Tangier lane, plodding towards their
goal.
Heturnedsuddenlyfromachipofstrawberries,drewagoldwatchfromhisfobandheldit
atitschain'slength.
Canyousendthembytram?Now?
AdarkbackedfigureunderMerchants'archscannedbooksonthehawker'scart.
Certainly,sir.Isitinthecity?
O,yes,BlazesBoylansaid.Tenminutes.
Theblondgirlhandedhimadocketandpencil.
Willyouwritetheaddress,sir?
BlazesBoylanatthecounterwroteandpushedthedockettoher.
Senditatonce,willyou?hesaid.It'sforaninvalid.
Yes,sir.Iwill,sir.
BlazesBoylanrattledmerrymoneyinhistrousers'pocket.
What'sthedamage?heasked.
Theblondgirl'sslimfingersreckonedthefruits.
BlazesBoylanlookedintothecutofherblouse.Ayoungpullet.Hetookaredcarnation
fromthetallstemglass.
Thisforme?heaskedgallantly.
The blond girl glanced sideways at him, got up regardless, with his tie a bit crooked,
blushing.
Yes,sir,shesaid.
Bendingarchlyshereckonedagainfatpearsandblushingpeaches.
BlazesBoylanlookedinherblousewithmorefavour,thestalkoftheredflowerbetween
hissmilingteeth.
MayIsayawordtoyourtelephone,missy?heaskedroguishly.
Ma!AlmidanoArtifonisaid.
HegazedoverStephen'sshoulderatGoldsmith'sknobbypoll.
Two carfuls of tourists passed slowly, their women sitting fore, gripping the handrests.
Palefaces. Men's arms frankly round their stunted forms. They looked from Trinity to the
blindcolumnedporchofthebankofIrelandwherepigeonsroocoocooed.
Anch'iohoavutodiquesteidee,ALMIDANOARTIFONISAID,quand'erogiovinecome
Lei. Eppoi mi sono convinto che il mondo una bestia. peccato. Perch la sua voce...
sarebbeuncespitedirendita,via.Invece,Leisisacrifica.
Sacrifizio incruento, Stephen said smiling, swaying his ashplant in slow swingswong
fromitsmidpoint,lightly.
Speriamo,theroundmustachioedfacesaidpleasantly.Ma,diarettaame.Cirifletta.
By the stern stone hand of Grattan, bidding halt, an Inchicore tram unloaded straggling
Highlandsoldiersofaband.
Cirifletter,Stephensaid,glancingdownthesolidtrouserleg.

Ma,sulserio,eh?AlmidanoArtifonisaid.
His heavy hand took Stephen's firmly. Human eyes. They gazed curiously an instantand
turnedquicklytowardsaDalkeytram.
Eccolo, Almidano Artifoni said in friendly haste. Venga a trovarmi e ci pensi. Addio,
caro.
Arrivederla,maestro,Stephensaid,raisinghishatwhenhishandwasfreed.Egrazie.
Diche?AlmidanoArtifonisaid.Scusi,eh?Tantebellecose!
AlmidanoArtifoni,holdingupabatonofrolledmusicasasignal,trottedonstouttrousers
aftertheDalkeytram.Invainhetrotted,signallinginvainamongtheroutofbarekneedgillies
smugglingimplementsofmusicthroughTrinitygates.
MissDunnehidtheCapelstreetlibrarycopyofTheWomaninWhitefarbackinherdrawer
androlledasheetofgaudynotepaperintohertypewriter.
Too much mystery business in it. Is he in love with that one, Marion? Change it and get
anotherbyMaryCecilHaye.
Thediskshotdownthegroove,wobbledawhile,ceasedandogledthem:six.
MissDunneclickedonthekeyboard:
16June1904.
Five tallwhitehatted sandwichmen between Monypeny's corner and the slab where Wolfe
Tone'sstatuewasnot,eeledthemselvesturningH.E.L.Y.'Sandploddedbackastheyhad
come.
Then she stared at the large poster of Marie Kendall, charming soubrette, and, listlessly
lolling,scribbledonthejottersixteensandcapitalesses.Mustardhairanddaubycheeks.She's
notnicelooking,isshe?Thewayshe'sholdingupherbitofaskirt.Wonderwillthatfellowbe
atthebandtonight.IfIcouldgetthatdressmakertomakeaconcertinaskirtlikeSusyNagle's.
Theykickoutgrand.Shannonandalltheboatclubswellsnevertookhiseyesoffher.Hopeto
goodnesshewon'tkeepmeheretillseven.
Thetelephonerangrudelybyherear.
Hello. Yes, sir. No, sir. Yes, sir. I'll ring them up after five. Only those two, sir, for
BelfastandLiverpool.Allright,sir.ThenIcangoaftersixifyou'renotback.Aquarterafter.
Yes,sir.Twentysevenandsix.I'lltellhim.Yes:one,seven,six.
Shescribbledthreefiguresonanenvelope.
MrBoylan!Hello!ThatgentlemanfromSPORTwasinlookingforyou.Mr Lenehan,
yes.Hesaidhe'llbeintheOrmondatfour.No,sir.Yes,sir.I'llringthemupafterfive.
Twopinkfacesturnedintheflareofthetinytorch.
Who'sthat?NedLambertasked.IsthatCrotty?
RingabellaandCrosshaven,avoicerepliedgropingforfoothold.
Hello,Jack,isthatyourself?NedLambertsaid,raisinginsalutehispliantlathamongthe
flickeringarches.Comeon.Mindyourstepsthere.
Thevestaintheclergyman'supliftedhandconsumeditselfinalongsoftflameandwaslet
fall.Attheirfeetitsredspeckdied:andmouldyairclosedroundthem.
Howinteresting!arefinedaccentsaidinthegloom.
Yes,sir,NedLambertsaidheartily.Wearestandinginthehistoriccouncilchamberof
saintMary'sabbeywheresilkenThomasproclaimedhimselfarebelin1534.Thisisthemost
historicspotinallDublin.O'MaddenBurkeisgoingtowritesomethingaboutitoneofthese
days.TheoldbankofIrelandwasoverthewaytillthetimeoftheunionandtheoriginaljews'
templewasheretoobeforetheybuilttheirsynagogueoverinAdelaideroad.Youwerenever
herebefore,Jack,wereyou?

No,Ned.
HerodedownthroughDamewalk,therefinedaccentsaid,ifmymemoryservesme.The
mansionoftheKildareswasinThomascourt.
That'sright,NedLambertsaid.That'squiteright,sir.
Ifyouwillbesokindthen,theclergymansaid,thenexttimetoallowmeperhaps...
Certainly, Ned Lambert said. Bring the camera whenever you like. I'll get those bags
clearedawayfromthewindows.Youcantakeitfromhereorfromhere.
Inthestillfaintlighthemovedabout,tappingwithhislaththepiledseedbagsandpointsof
vantageonthefloor.
Fromalongfaceabeardandgazehungonachessboard.
I'mdeeply obliged, Mr Lambert, the clergymansaid. Iwon'ttrespass on your valuable
time...
You'rewelcome,sir,NedLambertsaid.Dropinwheneveryoulike.Nextweek,say.Can
yousee?
Yes,yes.Goodafternoon,MrLambert.Verypleasedtohavemetyou.
Pleasureismine,sir,NedLambertanswered.
Hefollowedhisguesttotheoutletandthenwhirledhislathawayamongthepillars.WithJ.
J.O'MolloyhecameforthslowlyintoMary'sabbeywheredraymenwereloadingfloatswith
sacksofcarobandpalmnutmeal,O'Connor,Wexford.
Hestoodtoreadthecardinhishand.
ThereverendHughC.Love,Rathcoffey.Presentaddress:SaintMichael's,Sallins.Nice
young chap he is. He's writing a book about the Fitzgeralds he told me. He's well up in
history,faith.
Theyoungwomanwithslowcaredetachedfromherlightskirtaclingingtwig.
Ithoughtyouwereatanewgunpowderplot,J.J.O'Molloysaid.
NedLambertcrackedhisfingersintheair.
God!hecried.IforgottotellhimthatoneabouttheearlofKildareafterhesetfireto
Cashelcathedral.Youknowthatone?I'mbloodysorryIdidit,sayshe,butIdeclaretoGodI
thought the archbishop was inside. He mightn't like it, though. What? God, I'll tell him
anyhow.Thatwasthegreatearl,theFitzgeraldMor.Hotmemberstheywereallofthem,the
Geraldines.
The horses he passed started nervously under their slack harness. He slapped a piebald
haunchquiveringnearhimandcried:
Woa,sonny!
HeturnedtoJ.J.O'Molloyandasked:
Well,Jack.Whatisit?What'sthetrouble?Waitawhile.Holdhard.
Withgapingmouthandheadfarbackhestoodstilland,afteraninstant,sneezedloudly.
Chow!hesaid.Blastyou!
Thedustfromthosesacks,J.J.O'Molloysaidpolitely.
No,NedLambertgasped,Icaughta...coldnightbefore...blastyoursoul...nightbefore
last...andtherewasahellofalotofdraught...
Heheldhishandkerchiefreadyforthecoming...
Iwas...Glasnevinthismorning...poorlittle...whatdoyoucallhim...Chow!...Motherof
Moses!
TomRochfordtookthetopdiskfromthepileheclaspedagainsthisclaretwaistcoat.
See?hesaid.Sayit'sturnsix.Inhere,see.TurnNowOn.
He slid it into the left slot for them. It shot down the groove, wobbled a while, ceased,

oglingthem:six.
Lawyersofthepast,haughty,pleading,beheldpassfromtheconsolidatedtaxingofficeto
NisiPriuscourtRichieGouldingcarryingthecostbagofGoulding,CollisandWardandheard
rustlingfromtheadmiraltydivisionofking'sbenchtothecourtofappealanelderlyfemale
withfalseteethsmilingincredulouslyandablacksilkskirtofgreatamplitude.
See? he said. See now the last one I put in is over here: Turns Over. The impact.
Leverage,see?
Heshowedthemtherisingcolumnofdisksontheright.
Smartidea,NoseyFlynnsaid,snuffling.Soafellowcominginlatecanseewhatturnis
onandwhatturnsareover.
See?TomRochfordsaid.
Heslidinadiskforhimself:andwatcheditshoot,wobble,ogle,stop:four.TurnNowOn.
I'llseehimnowintheOrmond,Lenehansaid,andsoundhim.Onegoodturndeserves
another.
Do,TomRochfordsaid.TellhimI'mBoylanwithimpatience.
Goodnight,M'Coysaidabruptly.Whenyoutwobegin
NoseyFlynnstoopedtowardsthelever,snufflingatit.
Buthowdoesitworkhere,Tommy?heasked.
Tooraloo,Lenehansaid.Seeyoulater.
HefollowedM'CoyoutacrossthetinysquareofCramptoncourt.
He'sahero,hesaidsimply.
Iknow,M'Coysaid.Thedrain,youmean.
Drain?Lenehansaid.Itwasdownamanhole.
TheypassedDanLowry'smusichallwhereMarieKendall,charmingsoubrette,smiledon
themfromaposteradaubysmile.
Going down the path of Sycamore street beside the Empire musichall Lenehan showed
M'Coyhowthewholethingwas.Oneofthosemanholeslikeabloodygaspipeandtherewas
the poor devil stuck down in it, half choked with sewer gas. Down went Tom Rochford
anyhow,booky'svestandall,withtheroperoundhim.Andbedamnedbuthegottherope
roundthepoordevilandthetwowerehauledup.
Theactofahero,hesaid.
AttheDolphintheyhaltedtoallowtheambulancecartogalloppastthemforJervisstreet.
This way, he said, walking to the right. I want to pop into Lynam's to see Sceptre's
startingprice.What'sthetimebyyourgoldwatchandchain?
M'CoypeeredintoMarcusTertiusMoses'sombreoffice,thenatO'Neill'sclock.
Afterthree,hesaid.Who'sridingher?
O.Madden,Lenehansaid.Andagamefillysheis.
WhilehewaitedinTemplebarM'Coydodgedabananapeelwithgentlepushesofhistoe
fromthepathtothegutter.Fellowmightdamneasygetanastyfalltherecomingalongtight
inthedark.
Thegatesofthedriveopenedwidetogiveegresstotheviceregalcavalcade.
Evenmoney,Lenehansaidreturning.IknockedagainstBantamLyonsintheregoingto
backabloodyhorsesomeonegavehimthathasn'tanearthly.Throughhere.
TheywentupthestepsandunderMerchants'arch.Adarkbackedfigurescannedbookson
thehawker'scart.
Thereheis,Lenehansaid.
Wonderwhathe'sbuying,M'Coysaid,glancingbehind.

LeopoldoortheBloomisontheRye,Lenehansaid.
He'sdeadnutsonsales,M'Coysaid.Iwaswithhimonedayandheboughtabookfrom
anoldoneinLiffeystreetfortwobob.Therewerefineplatesinitworthdoublethemoney,
thestarsandthemoonandcometswithlongtails.Astronomyitwasabout.
Lenehanlaughed.
I'lltellyouadamngoodoneaboutcomets'tails,hesaid.Comeoverinthesun.
TheycrossedtothemetalbridgeandwentalongWellingtonquaybytheriverwall.
Master Patrick Aloysius Dignam came out of Mangan's, late Fehrenbach's, carrying a
poundandahalfofporksteaks.
TherewasalongspreadoutatGlencreereformatory,Lenehansaideagerly.Theannual
dinner, you know. Boiled shirt affair. The lord mayor was there, Val Dillon it was, and sir
Charles Cameron and Dan Dawson spoke and there was music. Bartell d'Arcy sang and
BenjaminDollard...
Iknow,M'Coybrokein.Mymissussangthereonce.
Didshe?Lenehansaid.
AcardUnfurnishedApartmentsreappearedonthewindowsashofnumber7Ecclesstreet.
Hecheckedhistaleamomentbutbrokeoutinawheezylaugh.
But wait till I tell you, he said. Delahunt of Camden street had the catering and yours
trulywaschiefbottlewasher.Bloomandthewifewerethere.Lashingsofstuffweputup:port
wine and sherry and curacao to which we did ample justice. Fast and furious it was. After
liquidscamesolids.Coldjointsgaloreandmincepies...
Iknow,M'Coysaid.Theyearthemissuswasthere...
Lenehanlinkedhisarmwarmly.
ButwaittillItellyou,hesaid.Wehadamidnightlunchtooafterallthejollificationand
whenwesalliedforthitwasblueo'clockthemorningafterthenightbefore.Cominghomeit
wasagorgeouswinter'snightontheFeatherbedMountain.BloomandChrisCallinanwereon
onesideofthecarandIwaswiththewifeontheother.Westartedsinginggleesandduets:
Lo, the early beam of morning. She was well primed with a good load of Delahunt's port
underherbellyband.EveryjoltthebloodycargaveIhadherbumpingupagainstme.Hell's
delights!Shehasafinepair,Godblessher.Likethat.
Heheldhiscavedhandsacubitfromhim,frowning:
Iwastuckingtherugunderherandsettlingherboaallthetime.KnowwhatImean?
His hands moulded ample curves of air. He shut his eyes tight in delight, his body
shrinking,andblewasweetchirpfromhislips.
The lad stood to attention anyhow, he said with a sigh. She's a gamey mare and no
mistake.BloomwaspointingoutallthestarsandthecometsintheheavenstoChrisCallinan
andthejarvey:thegreatbearandHerculesandthedragon,andthewholejingbanglot.But,
byGod,Iwaslost,sotospeak,inthemilkyway.Heknowsthemall,faith.Atlastshespotted
a weeny weeshy one miles away. And what star is that, Poldy? says she. By God, she had
Bloomcornered.Thatone,isit?saysChrisCallinan,surethat'sonlywhatyoumightcalla
pinprick.ByGod,hewasn'tfarwideofthemark.
Lenehanstoppedandleanedontheriverwall,pantingwithsoftlaughter.
I'mweak,hegasped.
M'Coy'swhitefacesmiledaboutitatinstantsandgrewgrave.Lenehanwalkedonagain.
He lifted his yachtingcap and scratched his hindhead rapidly. He glanced sideways in the
sunlightatM'Coy.
He'saculturedallroundman,Bloomis,hesaidseriously.He'snotoneofyourcommon
orgarden...youknow...There'satouchoftheartistaboutoldBloom.

Mr Bloom turned over idly pages of The Awful Disclosures of Maria Monk, then of
Aristotle'sMasterpiece. Crooked botched print. Plates:infants cuddled in a ball in bloodred
wombs like livers of slaughtered cows. Lots of them like that at this moment all over the
world.Allbuttingwiththeirskullstogetoutofit.Childborneveryminutesomewhere.Mrs
Purefoy.
He laid both books aside and glanced at the third: Tales of the Ghetto by Leopold von
SacherMasoch.
ThatIhad,hesaid,pushingitby.
Theshopmanlettwovolumesfallonthecounter.
Themaretwogoodones,hesaid.
Onionsofhisbreathcameacrossthecounteroutofhisruinedmouth.Hebenttomakea
bundleoftheotherbooks,huggedthemagainsthisunbuttonedwaistcoatandborethemoff
behindthedingycurtain.
OnO'ConnellbridgemanypersonsobservedthegravedeportmentandgayapparelofMr
DenisJMaginni,professorofdancing&c.
MrBloom,alone,lookedatthetitles.FairTyrantsbyJamesLovebirch.Knowthekindthat
is.Hadit?Yes.
Heopenedit.Thoughtso.
Awoman'svoicebehindthedingycurtain.Listen:theman.
No:shewouldn'tlikethatmuch.Gotheritonce.
Hereadtheothertitle:SweetsofSin.Moreinherline.Letussee.
Hereadwherehisfingeropened.
Allthedollarbillsherhusbandgaveherwerespentinthestoresonwondrousgownsand
costliestfrillies.Forhim!Forraoul!
Yes.This.Here.Try.
Hermouthgluedonhisinalusciousvoluptuouskisswhilehishandsfeltfortheopulent
curvesinsideherdeshabill.
Yes.Takethis.Theend.
Youarelate,hespokehoarsely,eyingherwithasuspiciousglare.Thebeautifulwoman
threwoffhersabletrimmedwrap,displayingherqueenlyshouldersandheavingembonpoint.
Animperceptiblesmileplayedroundherperfectlipsassheturnedtohimcalmly.
MrBloomreadagain:Thebeautifulwoman.
Warmth showered gently over him, cowing his flesh. Flesh yielded amply amid rumpled
clothes:whitesofeyesswooningup.Hisnostrilsarchedthemselvesforprey.Meltingbreast
ointments (for Him! For Raoul!). Armpits' oniony sweat. Fishgluey slime (her heaving
embonpoint!).Feel!Press!Crushed!Sulphurdungoflions!
Young!Young!
Anelderlyfemale,nomoreyoung,leftthebuildingofthecourtsofchancery,king'sbench,
exchequerandcommonpleas,havingheardinthelordchancellor'scourtthecaseinlunacyof
Potterton,intheadmiraltydivisionthesummons,expartemotion,oftheownersoftheLady
CairnsversustheownersofthebarqueMona,inthecourtofappealreservationofjudgment
inthecaseofHarveyversustheOceanAccidentandGuaranteeCorporation.
Phlegmy coughs shook the air of the bookshop, bulging out the dingy curtains. The
shopman's uncombed grey head came out and his unshaven reddened face, coughing. He
raked his throat rudely, puked phlegm on the floor. He put his boot on what he had spat,
wipinghissolealongit,andbent,showingarawskinnedcrown,scantilyhaired.
MrBloombeheldit.
Masteringhistroubledbreath,hesaid:

I'lltakethisone.
Theshopmanliftedeyesblearedwitholdrheum.
SweetsofSin,hesaid,tappingonit.That'sagoodone.
The lacquey by the door of Dillon's auctionrooms shook his handbell twice again and
viewedhimselfinthechalkedmirrorofthecabinet.
Dilly Dedalus, loitering by the curbstone, heard the beats of the bell, the cries of the
auctioneerwithin.Fourandnine.Thoselovelycurtains.Fiveshillings.Cosycurtains.Selling
newattwoguineas.Anyadvanceonfiveshillings?Goingforfiveshillings.
Thelacqueyliftedhishandbellandshookit:
Barang!
Bangofthelastlapbellspurredthehalfmilewheelmentotheirsprint.J.A.Jackson,W.E.
Wylie,A.MunroandH.T.Gahan,theirstretchedneckswagging,negotiatedthecurvebythe
Collegelibrary.
MrDedalus,tuggingalongmoustache,cameroundfromWilliams'srow.Hehaltednear
hisdaughter.
It'stimeforyou,shesaid.
Stand up straight for the love of the lord Jesus, Mr Dedalus said. Are you trying to
imitateyouruncleJohn,thecornetplayer,headuponshoulder?MelancholyGod!
Dillyshruggedhershoulders.MrDedalusplacedhishandsonthemandheldthemback.
Standupstraight,girl,hesaid.You'llgetcurvatureofthespine.Doyouknowwhatyou
looklike?
Helethisheadsinksuddenlydownandforward,hunchinghisshouldersanddroppinghis
underjaw.
Giveitup,father,Dillysaid.Allthepeoplearelookingatyou.
MrDedalusdrewhimselfuprightandtuggedagainathismoustache.
Didyougetanymoney?Dillyasked.
WherewouldIgetmoney?MrDedalussaid.ThereisnooneinDublinwouldlendme
fourpence.
Yougotsome,Dillysaid,lookinginhiseyes.
Howdoyouknowthat?MrDedalusasked,histongueinhischeek.
MrKernan,pleasedwiththeorderhehadbooked,walkedboldlyalongJames'sstreet.
Iknowyoudid,Dillyanswered.WereyouintheScotchhousenow?
I was not, then, Mr Dedalus said, smiling. Was it the little nuns taught you to be so
saucy?Here.
Hehandedherashilling.
Seeifyoucandoanythingwiththat,hesaid.
Isupposeyougotfive,Dillysaid.Givememorethanthat.
Wait awhile, Mr Dedalus said threateningly. You're like the rest of them, are you? An
insolentpackoflittlebitchessinceyourpoormotherdied.Butwaitawhile.You'llallgeta
short shrift and a long day from me. Low blackguardism! I'm going to get rid of you.
Wouldn'tcareifIwasstretchedoutstiff.He'sdead.Themanupstairsisdead.
Heleftherandwalkedon.Dillyfollowedquicklyandpulledhiscoat.
Well,whatisit?hesaid,stopping.
Thelacqueyranghisbellbehindtheirbacks.
Barang!
Curseyourbloodyblatantsoul,MrDedaluscried,turningonhim.

Thelacquey,awareofcomment,shookthelollingclapperofhisbellbutfeebly:
Bang!
MrDedalusstaredathim.
Watchhim,hesaid.It'sinstructive.Iwonderwillheallowustotalk.
Yougotmorethanthat,father,Dillysaid.
I'mgoingtoshowyoualittletrick,MrDedalussaid.I'llleaveyouallwhereJesusleft
thejews.Look,there'sallIhave.IgottwoshillingsfromJackPowerandIspenttwopence
forashaveforthefuneral.
Hedrewforthahandfulofcoppercoins,nervously.
Can'tyoulookforsomemoneysomewhere?Dillysaid.
MrDedalusthoughtandnodded.
Iwill,hesaidgravely.IlookedallalongthegutterinO'Connellstreet.I'lltrythisone
now.
You'reveryfunny,Dillysaid,grinning.
Here,MrDedalussaid,handinghertwopennies.Getaglassofmilkforyourselfanda
bunorasomething.I'llbehomeshortly.
Heputtheothercoinsinhispocketandstartedtowalkon.
Theviceregalcavalcadepassed,greetedbyobsequiouspolicemen,outofParkgate.
I'msureyouhaveanothershilling,Dillysaid.
Thelacqueybangedloudly.
MrDedalusamidthedinwalkedoff,murmuringtohimselfwithapursingmincingmouth
gently:
The little nuns! Nice little things! O, sure they wouldn't do anything! O, sure they
wouldn'treally!IsitlittlesisterMonica!
FromthesundialtowardsJames'sgatewalkedMrKernan,pleasedwiththeorderhehad
booked for Pulbrook Robertson, boldly along James's street, past Shackleton's offices. Got
roundhimallright.Howdoyoudo,MrCrimmins?Firstrate,sir.Iwasafraidyoumightbe
upinyourotherestablishmentinPimlico.Howarethingsgoing?Justkeepingalive.Lovely
weather we're having. Yes, indeed. Good for the country. Those farmers are always
grumbling.I'lljusttakeathimblefulofyourbestgin,MrCrimmins.Asmallgin,sir.Yes,sir.
TerribleaffairthatGeneralSlocumexplosion.Terrible,terrible!Athousandcasualties.And
heartrendingscenes. Men trampling down women and children. Most brutal thing. What do
they say was the cause? Spontaneous combustion. Most scandalous revelation. Not a single
lifeboatwouldfloatandthefirehoseallburst.WhatIcan'tunderstandishowtheinspectors
everallowedaboatlikethat...Now,you'retalkingstraight,MrCrimmins.Youknowwhy?
Palmoil.Isthatafact?Withoutadoubt.Wellnow,lookatthat.AndAmericatheysayisthe
landofthefree.Ithoughtwewerebadhere.
Ismiledathim.America,Isaidquietly,justlikethat.Whatisit?Thesweepingsofevery
countryincludingourown.Isn'tthattrue?That'safact.
Graft,mydearsir.Well,ofcourse,wherethere'smoneygoingthere'salwayssomeoneto
pickitup.
Sawhimlookingatmyfrockcoat.Dressdoesit.Nothinglikeadressyappearance. Bowls
themover.
Hello,Simon,FatherCowleysaid.Howarethings?
Hello,Bob,oldman,MrDedalusanswered,stopping.
Mr Kernan halted and preened himself before the sloping mirror of Peter Kennedy,
hairdresser. Stylish coat, beyond a doubt. Scott of Dawson street. Well worth the half
sovereignIgaveNearyforit.Neverbuiltunderthreeguineas.Fitsmedowntotheground.

SomeKildarestreetclubtoff had it probably. JohnMulligan,the manager ofthe Hibernian


bank,gavemeaverysharpeyeyesterdayonCarlislebridgeasifherememberedme.
Aham! Must dress the character for those fellows. Knight of the road. Gentleman. And
now,MrCrimmins,maywehavethehonourofyourcustomagain,sir.Thecupthatcheers
butnotinebriates,astheoldsayinghasit.
North wall and sir John Rogerson's quay, with hulls and anchorchains, sailingwestward,
sailedbyaskiff,acrumpledthrowaway,rockedontheferrywash,Elijahiscoming.
MrKernanglancedinfarewellathisimage.Highcolour,ofcourse.Grizzledmoustache.
ReturnedIndianofficer.Bravelyheborehisstumpybody forward onspatted feet, squaring
hisshoulders.IsthatNedLambert'sbrotherovertheway,Sam?What?Yes.He'saslikeitas
damnit.No.Thewindscreenofthatmotorcarinthesunthere.Justaflashlikethat.Damnlike
him.
Aham!Hotspiritofjuniperjuicewarmedhisvitalsandhisbreath.Gooddropofgin,that
was.Hisfrocktailswinkedinbrightsunshinetohisfatstrut.
DownthereEmmetwashanged,drawnandquartered.Greasyblackrope.Dogslickingthe
bloodoffthestreetwhenthelordlieutenant'swifedrovebyinhernoddy.
Badtimesthosewere.Well,well.Overanddonewith.Greattoperstoo.Fourbottlemen.
Letmesee.IsheburiedinsaintMichan's?Orno,therewasamidnightburialinGlasnevin.
Corpsebroughtinthroughasecretdoorinthewall.Dignamistherenow.Wentoutinapuff.
Well,well.Betterturndownhere.Makeadetour.
MrKernanturnedandwalkeddowntheslopeofWatlingstreetbythecornerofGuinness's
visitors'waitingroom.OutsidetheDublinDistillersCompany'sstoresanoutsidecarwithout
fareorjarveystood,thereinsknottedtothewheel.Damndangerousthing.SomeTipperary
bosthoonendangeringthelivesofthecitizens.Runawayhorse.
Denis Breen with his tomes, weary of having waited an hour in John Henry Menton's
office,ledhiswifeoverO'Connellbridge,boundfortheofficeofMessrsCollisandWard.
MrKernanapproachedIslandstreet.
Timesofthetroubles.MustaskNedLamberttolendmethosereminiscencesofsirJonah
Barrington.Whenyoulookbackonitallnowinakindofretrospectivearrangement.Gaming
at Daly's. No cardsharping then. One of those fellows got his hand nailed to the table by a
dagger. Somewhere here lord Edward Fitzgerald escaped from major Sirr. Stables behind
Moirahouse.
Damngoodginthatwas.
Finedashingyoungnobleman.Goodstock,ofcourse.Thatruffian,thatshamsquire,with
hisvioletglovesgavehimaway.Coursetheywereonthewrongside.Theyroseindarkand
evildays.Finepoemthatis:Ingram.Theyweregentlemen.BenDollarddoessingthatballad
touchingly.Masterlyrendition.
AtthesiegeofRossdidmyfatherfall.
AcavalcadeineasytrotalongPembrokequaypassed,outridersleaping,leapingintheir,in
theirsaddles.Frockcoats.Creamsunshades.
MrKernanhurriedforward,blowingpursily.
HisExcellency!Toobad!Justmissedthatbyahair.Damnit!Whatapity!
Stephen Dedalus watched through the webbed window the lapidary's fingers prove a
timedulled chain. Dust webbed the window and the showtrays. Dust darkened the toiling
fingers with their vulture nails. Dust slept on dull coils of bronze and silver, lozenges of
cinnabar,onrubies,leprousandwinedarkstones.
Bornallinthedarkwormyearth,coldspecksoffire,evil,lightsshininginthedarkness.
Wherefallenarchangelsflungthestarsoftheirbrows. Muddyswinesnouts, hands, rootand
root,gripeandwrestthem.

She dances in a foul gloom where gum bums with garlic. A sailorman, rustbearded, sips
fromabeakerrumandeyesher.Alongandseafedsilentrut.Shedances,capers,waggingher
sowishhaunchesandherhips,onhergrossbellyflappingarubyegg.
OldRussellwithasmearedshammyragburnishedagainhisgem,turneditandhelditat
thepointofhisMoses'beard.Grandfatherapegloatingonastolenhoard.
And you who wrest old images from the burial earth? The brainsick words of sophists:
Antisthenes. A lore of drugs. Orient and immortal wheat standing from everlasting to
everlasting.
Two old women fresh from their whiff of the briny trudged through Irishtown along
London bridge road, one with a sanded tired umbrella, one with a midwife's bag in which
elevencocklesrolled.
The whirr of flapping leathern bands and hum of dynamos from the powerhouse urged
Stephen to be on. Beingless beings. Stop! Throb always without you and the throb always
within.Yourheartyousingof.Ibetweenthem.Where?Betweentworoaringworldswhere
theyswirl,I.Shatterthem,oneandboth.Butstunmyselftoointheblow.Shattermeyouwho
can.Bawdandbutcherwerethewords.Isay!Notyetawhile.Alookaround.
Yes, quite true. Very large and wonderful and keeps famous time. You say right, sir. A
Mondaymorning,'twasso,indeed.
StephenwentdownBedfordrow,thehandleoftheashclackingagainsthisshoulderblade.
In Clohissey's window a faded 1860 print of Heenan boxing Sayers held his eye. Staring
backerswithsquarehatsstoodroundtheropedprizering.Theheavyweightsintightloincloths
proposedgentlyeachtootherhisbulbousfists.Andtheyarethrobbing:heroes'hearts.
Heturnedandhaltedbytheslantedbookcart.
Twopenceeach,thehuckstersaid.Fourforsixpence.
Tatteredpages.TheIrishBeekeeper.LifeandMiraclesoftheCurofArs.PocketGuideto
Killarney.
I might find here one of my pawned schoolprizes. Stephano Dedalo, alumno optimo,
palmamferenti.
Father Conmee, having read his little hours, walked through the hamlet of Donnycarney,
murmuringvespers.
Binding too good probably. What is this? Eighth and ninth book of Moses. Secret of all
secrets.SealofKingDavid.Thumbedpages:readandread.Whohaspassedherebeforeme?
Howtosoftenchappedhands.Recipeforwhite wine vinegar. How to win a woman's love.
Formethis.Saythefollowingtalismanthreetimeswithhandsfolded:
Seelyilonebrakadafemininum!Amormesolo!Sanktus!Amen.
Whowrotethis?CharmsandinvocationsofthemostblessedabbotPeterSalankatoalltrue
believers divulged. As good as any other abbot's charms, as mumbling Joachim's. Down,
baldynoddle,orwe'llwoolyourwool.
Whatareyoudoinghere,Stephen?
Dilly'shighshouldersandshabbydress.
Shutthebookquick.Don'tletsee.
Whatareyoudoing?Stephensaid.
AStuartfaceofnonesuchCharles,lanklocksfallingatitssides.Itglowedasshecrouched
feeding the fire with broken boots. I told her of Paris. Late lieabed under a quilt of old
overcoats,fingeringapinchbeckbracelet,DanKelly'stoken.Nebrakadafemininum.
Whathaveyouthere?Stephenasked.
Iboughtitfromtheothercartforapenny,Dillysaid,laughingnervously.Isitanygood?
Myeyestheysayshehas.Doothersseemeso?Quick,faranddaring.Shadowofmymind.
Hetookthecoverlessbookfromherhand.Chardenal'sFrenchprimer.

Whatdidyoubuythatfor?heasked.TolearnFrench?
Shenodded,reddeningandclosingtightherlips.
Shownosurprise.Quitenatural.
Here,Stephensaid.It'sallright.MindMaggydoesn'tpawnitonyou.Isupposeallmy
booksaregone.
Some,Dillysaid.Wehadto.
Sheisdrowning.Agenbite.Saveher.Agenbite.Allagainstus.Shewilldrownmewithher,
eyesandhair.Lankcoilsofseaweedhairaroundme,myheart,mysoul.Saltgreendeath.
We.
Agenbiteofinwit.Inwit'sagenbite.
Misery!Misery!
Hello,Simon,FatherCowleysaid.Howarethings?
Hello,Bob,oldman,MrDedalusanswered,stopping.
They clasped hands loudly outside Reddy and Daughter's. Father Cowley brushed his
moustacheoftendownwardwithascoopinghand.
What'sthebestnews?MrDedalussaid.
Why then not much, Father Cowley said. I'm barricaded up, Simon, with two men
prowlingaroundthehousetryingtoeffectanentrance.
Jolly,MrDedalussaid.Whoisit?
O,FatherCowleysaid.Acertaingombeenmanofouracquaintance.
Withabrokenback,isit?MrDedalusasked.
Thesame,Simon,FatherCowleyanswered.Reubenofthatilk.I'mjustwaitingforBen
Dollard. He's going to say a word to long John to get him to take those two men off. All I
wantisalittletime.
Helookedwithvaguehopeupanddownthequay,abigapplebulginginhisneck.
Iknow,MrDedalussaid,nodding.PooroldbockedyBen!He'salwaysdoingagoodturn
forsomeone.Holdhard!
Heputonhisglassesandgazedtowardsthemetalbridgeaninstant.
Thereheis,byGod,hesaid,arseandpockets.
BenDollard'sloosebluecutawayandsquarehatabovelargeslopscrossedthequayinfull
gaitfromthemetalbridge.Hecametowardsthematanamble,scratchingactivelybehindhis
coattails.
AshecamenearMrDedalusgreeted:
Holdthatfellowwiththebadtrousers.
Holdhimnow,BenDollardsaid.
MrDedaluseyedwithcoldwanderingscornvariouspointsofBenDollard'sfigure.Then,
turningtoFatherCowleywithanod,hemutteredsneeringly:
That'saprettygarment,isn'tit,forasummer'sday?
Why, God eternally curse your soul, Ben Dollard growled furiously, I threw out more
clothesinmytimethanyoueversaw.
He stood beside them beaming, on them first and on his roomy clothes from points of
whichMrDedalusflickedfluff,saying:
Theyweremadeforamaninhishealth,Ben,anyhow.
Bad luck to the jewman that made them, Ben Dollard said. Thanks be to God he's not
paidyet.
Andhowisthatbassoprofondo,Benjamin?FatherCowleyasked.

CashelBoyleO'ConnorFitzmauriceTisdallFarrell,murmuring,glassyeyed,strodepastthe
Kildarestreetclub.
BenDollardfrownedand,makingsuddenlyachanter'smouth,gaveforthadeepnote.
Aw!hesaid.
That'sthestyle,MrDedalussaid,noddingtoitsdrone.
Whataboutthat?BenDollardsaid.Nottoodusty?What?
Heturnedtoboth.
That'lldo,FatherCowleysaid,noddingalso.
ThereverendHughC.LovewalkedfromtheoldchapterhouseofsaintMary'sabbeypast
JamesandCharlesKennedy's,rectifiers,attendedbyGeraldinestallandpersonable,towards
theTholselbeyondthefordofhurdles.
BenDollardwithaheavylisttowardstheshopfrontsledthemforward,hisjoyfulfingersin
theair.
Come along with me to the subsheriff's office, he said. I want to show you the new
beauty Rock has for a bailiff. He's a cross between Lobengula and Lynchehaun. He's well
worthseeing,mindyou.Comealong.IsawJohnHenryMentoncasuallyintheBodegajust
nowanditwillcostmeafallifIdon't...Waitawhile...We'reontherightlay,Bob,believe
youme.
Forafewdaystellhim,FatherCowleysaidanxiously.
BenDollardhaltedandstared,hisloudorificeopen,adanglingbuttonofhiscoatwagging
brightbacked from its thread as he wiped away the heavy shraums that clogged his eyes to
heararight.
Whatfewdays?heboomed.Hasn'tyourlandlorddistrainedforrent?
Hehas,FatherCowleysaid.
Then our friend's writ is not worth the paper it's printed on, Ben Dollard said. The
landlord has the prior claim. Igavehim alltheparticulars.29Windsoravenue.Loveisthe
name?
That'sright,FatherCowleysaid.ThereverendMrLove.He'saministerinthecountry
somewhere.Butareyousureofthat?
YoucantellBarabbasfromme,BenDollardsaid,thathecanputthatwritwhereJacko
putthenuts.
HeledFatherCowleyboldlyforward,linkedtohisbulk.
FilbertsIbelievetheywere,MrDedalussaid,ashedroppedhisglassesonhiscoatfront,
followingthem.
The youngster will be all right, Martin Cunningham said, as they passed out of the
Castleyardgate.
Thepolicemantouchedhisforehead.
Godblessyou,MartinCunninghamsaid,cheerily.
HesignedtothewaitingjarveywhochuckedatthereinsandsetontowardsLordEdward
street.
Bronzebygold,MissKennedy'sheadbyMissDouce'shead,appearedabovethecrossblind
oftheOrmondhotel.
Yes,MartinCunninghamsaid,fingeringhisbeard.IwrotetoFatherConmeeandlaidthe
wholecasebeforehim.
Youcouldtryourfriend,MrPowersuggestedbackward.
Boyd?MartinCunninghamsaidshortly.Touchmenot.
JohnWyseNolan,laggingbehind,readingthelist,cameafterthemquicklydownCorkhill.

OnthestepsoftheCityhallCouncillorNannetti,descending,hailedAldermanCowleyand
CouncillorAbrahamLyonascending.
ThecastlecarwheeledemptyintoupperExchangestreet.
Look here, Martin, John Wyse Nolan said, overtaking them at the Mail office. I see
Bloomputhisnamedownforfiveshillings.
Quiteright,MartinCunninghamsaid,takingthelist.Andputdownthefiveshillingstoo.
Withoutasecondwordeither,MrPowersaid.
Strangebuttrue,MartinCunninghamadded.
JohnWyseNolanopenedwideeyes.
I'llsaythereismuchkindnessinthejew,hequoted,elegantly.
TheywentdownParliamentstreet.
There'sJimmyHenry,MrPowersaid,justheadingforKavanagh's.
Righto,MartinCunninghamsaid.Heregoes.
Outside la Maison Claire Blazes Boylan waylaid Jack Mooney's brotherinlaw, humpy,
tight,makingfortheliberties.
JohnWyseNolanfellbackwithMrPower,whileMartinCunninghamtooktheelbowofa
dapper little man in a shower of hail suit, who walked uncertainly, with hasty steps past
MickyAnderson'swatches.
Theassistanttownclerk'scornsaregivinghimsometrouble,JohnWyseNolantoldMr
Power.
They followed round the corner towards James Kavanagh's winerooms.Theempty castle
carfrontedthematrestinEssexgate.MartinCunningham,speakingalways,showedoftenthe
listatwhichJimmyHenrydidnotglance.
AndlongJohnFanningisheretoo,JohnWyseNolansaid,aslargeaslife.
ThetallformoflongJohnFanningfilledthedoorwaywherehestood.
Goodday,MrSubsheriff,MartinCunninghamsaid,asallhaltedandgreeted.
Long John Fanning made no way for them. He removed his large Henry Clay decisively
andhislargefierceeyesscowledintelligentlyoveralltheirfaces.
Are the conscript fathers pursuing their peaceful deliberations? he said with rich acrid
utterancetotheassistanttownclerk.
Hellopentochristianstheywerehaving,JimmyHenrysaidpettishly,abouttheirdamned
Irish language. Where was the marshal, he wanted to know, to keep order in the council
chamber.AndoldBarlowthemacebearerlaidupwithasthma,nomaceonthetable,nothing
in order, no quorum even, and Hutchinson, the lord mayor, in Llandudno and little Lorcan
Sherlockdoinglocumtenensforhim.DamnedIrishlanguage,languageofourforefathers.
LongJohnFanningblewaplumeofsmokefromhislips.
Martin Cunningham spoke by turns, twirling the peak of his beard, to the assistant town
clerkandthesubsheriff,whileJohnWyseNolanheldhispeace.
WhatDignamwasthat?longJohnFanningasked.
JimmyHenrymadeagrimaceandliftedhisleftfoot.
O, my corns! he said plaintively. Come upstairs for goodness' sake till I sit down
somewhere.Uff!Ooo!Mind!
TestilyhemaderoomforhimselfbesidelongJohnFanning'sflankandpassedinandupthe
stairs.
Comeonup,MartinCunninghamsaidtothesubsheriff.Idon'tthinkyou knew him or
perhapsyoudid,though.
WithJohnWyseNolanMrPowerfollowedthemin.
Decent little soul he was, Mr Power said to the stalwart back of long John Fanning

ascendingtowardslongJohnFanninginthemirror.
Ratherlowsized.DignamofMenton'sofficethatwas,MartinCunninghamsaid.
LongJohnFanningcouldnotrememberhim.
Clatterofhorsehoofssoundedfromtheair.
What'sthat?MartinCunninghamsaid.
Allturnedwheretheystood.JohnWyseNolancamedownagain.Fromthecoolshadowof
thedoorwayhesawthehorsespassParliamentstreet,harnessandglossypasternsinsunlight
shimmering.Gailytheywentpastbeforehiscoolunfriendlyeyes,notquickly.Insaddlesof
theleaders,leapingleaders,rodeoutriders.
Whatwasit?MartinCunninghamasked,astheywentonupthestaircase.
ThelordlieutenantgeneralandgeneralgovernorofIreland,JohnWyseNolananswered
fromthestairfoot.
As they trod across the thick carpet Buck Mulligan whispered behind his Panama to
Haines:
Parnell'sbrother.Thereinthecorner.
Theychoseasmalltablenearthewindow,oppositealongfacedmanwhosebeardandgaze
hungintentlydownonachessboard.
Isthathe?Hainesasked,twistingroundinhisseat.
Yes,Mulligansaid.That'sJohnHoward,hisbrother,ourcitymarshal.
JohnHowardParnelltranslatedawhitebishopquietlyandhisgreyclawwentupagainto
his forehead whereat it rested. An instant after, under its screen, his eyes looked quickly,
ghostbright,athisfoeandfelloncemoreuponaworkingcorner.
I'lltakeamlange,Hainessaidtothewaitress.
Two mlanges, Buck Mulligan said. And bring us some scones and butter and some
cakesaswell.
Whenshehadgonehesaid,laughing:
We call it D.B.C. because they have damn bad cakes. O, but you missed Dedalus on
Hamlet.
Hainesopenedhisnewboughtbook.
I'm sorry, he said. Shakespeare is the happy huntingground of all minds that have lost
theirbalance.
Theoneleggedsailorgrowledattheareaof14Nelsonstreet:
Englandexpects...
BuckMulligan'sprimrosewaistcoatshookgailytohislaughter.
Youshouldseehim,hesaid,whenhisbodylosesitsbalance.WanderingAengusIcall
him.
Iamsurehehasanidefixe,Hainessaid,pinchinghischinthoughtfullywiththumband
forefinger.NowIamspeculatingwhatitwouldbelikelytobe.Suchpersonsalwayshave.
BuckMulliganbentacrossthetablegravely.
They drove his wits astray, he said, by visions of hell. He will never capture the Attic
note. The note of Swinburne, of all poets, the white death and the ruddy birth. That is his
tragedy.Hecanneverbeapoet.Thejoyofcreation...
Eternal punishment, Haines said, nodding curtly. I see. I tackled him this morning on
belief. There was something on his mind, I saw. It's rather interesting because professor
PokornyofViennamakesaninterestingpointoutofthat.
BuckMulligan'swatchfuleyessawthewaitresscome.Hehelpedhertounloadhertray.
HecanfindnotraceofhellinancientIrishmyth,Hainessaid,amidthecheerfulcups.

Themoralideaseemslacking,thesenseofdestiny,ofretribution.Ratherstrangeheshould
havejustthatfixedidea.Doeshewriteanythingforyourmovement?
Hesanktwolumpsofsugardeftlylongwisethroughthewhippedcream.BuckMulliganslit
a steaming scone in two and plastered butter over its smoking pith. He bit off a soft piece
hungrily.
Tenyears,hesaid,chewingandlaughing.Heisgoingtowritesomethingintenyears.
Seems a long way off, Haines said, thoughtfully lifting his spoon. Still, I shouldn't
wonderifhedidafterall.
Hetastedaspoonfulfromthecreamyconeofhiscup.
ThisisrealIrishcreamItakeit,hesaidwithforbearance.Idon'twanttobeimposedon.
Elijah, skiff, light crumpled throwaway, sailed eastward by flanks of ships and trawlers,
amid an archipelago of corks, beyond new Wapping street past Benson's ferry, and by the
threemastedschoonerRoseveanfromBridgwaterwithbricks.
AlmidanoArtifoniwalkedpastHollesstreet,pastSewell'syard.BehindhimCashelBoyle
O'ConnorFitzmauriceTisdallFarrell,withstickumbrelladustcoatdangling,shunnedthelamp
beforeMrLawSmith'shouseand,crossing,walkedalongMerrionsquare.Distantlybehind
himablindstriplingtappedhiswaybythewallofCollegepark.
Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell walked as far as Mr Lewis Werner's
cheerful windows, then turned and strode back along Merrion square, his
stickumbrelladustcoatdangling.
At the corner of Wilde's house he halted, frowned at Elijah's name announced on the
Metropolitan hall, frowned at the distant pleasance of duke's lawn. His eyeglass flashed
frowninginthesun.Withratsteethbaredhemuttered:
Coactusvolui.
HestrodeonforClarestreet,grindinghisfierceword.
AshestrodepastMrBloom'sdentalwindowstheswayofhisdustcoatbrushedrudelyfrom
its angle a slender tapping cane and swept onwards, having buffeted a thewless body. The
blindstriplingturnedhissicklyfaceafterthestridingform.
God'scurseonyou,hesaidsourly,whoeveryouare!You'reblindernorIam,youbitch's
bastard!
Opposite Ruggy O'Donohoe's Master Patrick Aloysius Dignam, pawing the pound and a
half of Mangan's, late Fehrenbach's, porksteaks he had been sent for, went along warm
Wicklowstreetdawdling.ItwastoobloomingdullsittingintheparlourwithMrsStoerand
MrsQuigleyandMrsMacDowellandtheblinddownandtheyallattheirsnifflesandsipping
sups of the superior tawny sherry uncle Barney brought from Tunney's. And they eating
crumbsofthecottagefruitcake,jawingthewholebloomingtimeandsighing.
After Wicklow lane the window of Madame Doyle, courtdress milliner, stopped him. He
stoodlookinginatthetwopuckersstrippedtotheirpeltsandputtinguptheirprops.Fromthe
sidemirrorstwomourningMastersDignamgapedsilently.MylerKeogh,Dublin'spetlamb,
willmeetsergeantmajorBennett,thePortobellobruiser,forapurseoffiftysovereigns.Gob,
that'dbeagoodpuckingmatchtosee.MylerKeogh,that'sthechapsparringouttohimwith
thegreensash.Twobarentrance,soldiershalfprice.Icouldeasydoabunkonma.Master
Dignam on his left turned as he turned. That's me in mourning. When is it? May the
twentysecond. Sure, the blooming thing is all over. He turned to the right and on his right
MasterDignamturned,hiscapawry,hiscollarstickingup.Buttoningitdown,hischinlifted,
hesawtheimageofMarieKendall,charmingsoubrette,besidethetwopuckers.Oneofthem
motsthatdobeinthepacketsoffagsStoersmokesthathisoldfellowweltedhelloutofhim
foronetimehefoundout.
Master Dignam got his collar down and dawdled on. The best pucker going for strength

wasFitzsimons.Onepuckinthewindfromthatfellowwouldknockyouintothemiddleof
nextweek,man.ButthebestpuckerforsciencewasJemCorbetbeforeFitzsimonsknocked
thestuffingsoutofhim,dodgingandall.
InGraftonstreetMasterDignamsawaredflowerinatoff'smouthandaswellpairofkicks
onhimandhelisteningtowhatthedrunkwastellinghimandgrinningallthetime.
NoSandymounttram.
Master Dignam walked along Nassau street, shifted the porksteaks to his other hand. His
collar sprang up again and he tugged it down. The blooming stud was too small for the
buttonhole of the shirt, blooming end to it. He met schoolboys with satchels. I'm not going
tomorrow either, stay away till Monday. He met other schoolboys. Do they notice I'm in
mourning?UncleBarneysaidhe'dgetitintothepapertonight.Thenthey'llallseeitinthe
paperandreadmynameprintedandpa'sname.
Hisfacegotallgreyinsteadofbeingredlikeitwasandtherewasaflywalkingoveritup
tohiseye.Thescrunchthatwaswhentheywerescrewingthescrewsintothecoffin:andthe
bumpswhentheywerebringingitdownstairs.
PawasinsideitandmacryingintheparlouranduncleBarneytellingthemenhowtogetit
roundthebend.Abigcoffinitwas,andhighandheavylooking.Howwasthat?Thelastnight
pa was boosed he was standing on the landing there bawling out for his boots to go out to
Tunney'sfortoboosemoreandhelookedbuttyandshortinhisshirt.Neverseehimagain.
Death,thatis.Paisdead.Myfatherisdead.Hetoldmetobeagood son toma. I couldn't
heartheotherthingshesaidbutIsawhistongueandhisteethtryingtosayitbetter.Poorpa.
ThatwasMrDignam,myfather.Ihopehe'sinpurgatorynowbecausehewenttoconfession
toFatherConroyonSaturdaynight.
William Humble, earl of Dudley, and lady Dudley, accompanied by lieutenantcolonel
Heseltine,droveoutafterluncheonfromtheviceregallodge.Inthefollowingcarriagewere
the honourable Mrs Paget, Miss de Courcy and the honourable Gerald Ward A.D.C. in
attendance.
The cavalcade passed out by the lower gate of Phoenix park saluted by obsequious
policemenandproceededpastKingsbridgealongthenorthernquays.Theviceroywasmost
cordially greeted on his way through the metropolis. At Bloody bridge Mr Thomas Kernan
beyondtherivergreetedhimvainlyfromafarBetweenQueen'sandWhitworthbridgeslord
Dudley'sviceregal carriages passed and were unsaluted by Mr Dudley White, B. L., M. A.,
whostoodonArranquayoutsideMrsM.E.White's,thepawnbroker's,atthecornerofArran
street west stroking his nose with his forefinger, undecided whether he should arrive at
Phibsboroughmorequicklybyatriplechangeoftramorbyhailingacaroronfootthrough
Smithfield, Constitution hill and Broadstone terminus. In the porch of Four Courts Richie
Goulding with the costbag of Goulding, Collis and Ward saw him with surprise. Past
Richmond bridge at the doorstep of the office of Reuben J Dodd, solicitor, agent for the
PatrioticInsuranceCompany,anelderlyfemaleabouttoenterchangedherplanandretracing
herstepsbyKing'swindowssmiledcredulouslyontherepresentativeofHisMajesty.From
its sluice in Wood quay wall under Tom Devan's office Poddle river hung out in fealty a
tongue of liquid sewage. Above the crossblind of the Ormond hotel, gold by bronze, Miss
Kennedy's head by Miss Douce's head watched and admired. On Ormond quay Mr Simon
Dedalus, steering his way from the greenhouse for the subsheriff's office, stood still in
midstreetandbroughthishatlow.HisExcellencygraciouslyreturnedMrDedalus'greeting.
FromCahill'scornerthereverendHughC.Love,M.A.,madeobeisanceunperceived,mindful
oflordsdeputieswhosehandsbenignanthadheldofyorerichadvowsons.OnGrattanbridge
Lenehan and M'Coy, taking leave of each other, watched the carriages go by. Passing by
Roger Greene's office and Dollard's big red printinghouse Gerty MacDowell, carrying the
Catesby'scorklinolettersforherfatherwhowaslaidup,knewbythestyleitwasthelordand
ladylieutenantbutshecouldn'tseewhatHerExcellencyhadonbecausethetramandSpring's
bigyellowfurniturevanhadtostopinfrontofheronaccountofitsbeingthelordlieutenant.

Beyond Lundy Foot's from the shaded door of Kavanagh's winerooms John Wyse Nolan
smiled with unseen coldness towards the lord lieutenantgeneral and general governor of
Ireland.TheRightHonourableWilliamHumble,earlofDudley,G.C.V.O.,passedMicky
Anderson's all times ticking watches and Henry and James's wax smartsuited freshcheeked
models,thegentlemanHenry,derniercriJames.OveragainstDamegateTomRochfordand
NoseyFlynnwatchedtheapproachofthecavalcade.TomRochford,seeingtheeyesoflady
Dudleyfixedonhim,tookhisthumbsquicklyoutofthepocketsofhisclaretwaistcoatand
doffed his cap to her. A charming soubrette, great Marie Kendall, with dauby cheeks and
liftedskirtsmileddaubilyfromherposteruponWilliamHumble,earlof Dudley, and upon
lieutenantcolonelH.G.Heseltine,andalsouponthehonourableGeraldWardA.D.C.From
the window of the D. B. C. Buck Mulligan gaily, and Haines gravely, gazed down on the
viceregal equipage over the shoulders of eager guests, whose mass of forms darkened the
chessboardwhereonJohnHowardParnelllookedintently.InFownes'sstreetDillyDedalus,
straininghersightupwardfromChardenal'sfirstFrenchprimer,sawsunshadesspannedand
wheelspokes spinning in the glare. John Henry Menton, filling the doorway of Commercial
Buildings,staredfromwinebigoystereyes,holdingafatgoldhunterwatchnotlookedatin
his fat left hand not feeling it. Where the foreleg of King Billy's horse pawed the air Mrs
Breenpluckedherhasteninghusbandbackfromunderthehoofsoftheoutriders.Sheshouted
in his ear the tidings. Understanding, he shifted his tomes to his left breast and saluted the
second carriage. The honourable Gerald Ward A.D.C., agreeably surprised, made haste to
reply.AtPonsonby'scornerajadedwhiteflagonH.haltedandfourtallhattedwhiteflagons
halted behind him, E.L.Y'S, while outriders pranced past and carriages. Opposite Pigott's
music warerooms Mr Denis J Maginni, professor of dancing &c, gaily apparelled, gravely
walked,outpassedbyaviceroyandunobserved.Bytheprovost'swallcamejauntilyBlazes
Boylan, stepping in tan shoes and socks with skyblue clocks to the refrain of My girl's a
Yorkshiregirl.
Blazes Boylan presented to the leaders' skyblue frontlets and high action a skyblue tie, a
widebrimmed straw hat at a rakish angle and a suit of indigo serge. His hands in his jacket
pocketsforgottosalutebutheofferedtothethreeladiestheboldadmirationofhiseyesand
theredflowerbetweenhislips.AstheydrovealongNassaustreetHisExcellencydrewthe
attention of his bowing consort to the programme of music which was being discoursed in
Collegepark.Unseenbrazenhighlandladdiesblaredanddrumthumpedafterthecortge:
Butthoughshe'safactorylass
Andwearsnofancyclothes.
Baraabum.
YetI'veasortofa
Yorkshirerelishfor
MylittleYorkshirerose.
Baraabum.

Thitherofthewallthequartermileflathandicappers,M.C.Green,H.Shrift,T.M.Patey,
C.Scaife,J.B.Jeffs,G.N.Morphy,F.Stevenson,C.AdderlyandW.C.Huggard,startedin
pursuit. Striding past Finn's hotel Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell stared
through a fierce eyeglass across the carriages at the head of Mr M. E. Solomons in the
windowoftheAustroHungarianviceconsulate.DeepinLeinsterstreetbyTrinity'sposterna
loyal king's man, Hornblower, touched his tallyho cap. As the glossy horses pranced by
MerrionsquareMasterPatrickAloysiusDignam,waiting,sawsalutesbeinggiventothegent
withthetopperandraisedalsohisnewblackcapwithfingersgreasedbyporksteakpaper.His
collartoosprangup.Theviceroy,onhiswaytoinauguratetheMirusbazaarinaidoffunds
forMercer'shospital,drovewithhisfollowingtowardsLowerMountstreet.Hepassedablind
stripling opposite Broadbent's. In Lower Mount street a pedestrian in a brown macintosh,
eatingdrybread,passedswiftlyandunscathedacrosstheviceroy'spath.AttheRoyalCanal
bridge,fromhishoarding,MrEugeneStratton,hisblublipsagrin,badeallcomerswelcome
toPembroketownship.AtHaddingtonroadcornertwosandedwomenhaltedthemselves,an
umbrellaandabaginwhichelevencocklesrolledtoviewwithwonderthelordmayorand

lady mayoress without his golden chain. On Northumberland and Lansdowne roads His
Excellencyacknowledgedpunctuallysalutesfromraremalewalkers,thesaluteoftwosmall
schoolboysatthegardengateofthehousesaidtohavebeenadmiredbythelatequeenwhen
visiting the Irish capital with her husband, the prince consort, in 1849 and the salute of
AlmidanoArtifoni'ssturdytrousersswallowedbyaclosingdoor.
Bronzebygoldheardthehoofirons,steelyringingImperthnthnthnthnthn.
Chips,pickingchipsoffrockythumbnail,chips.
Horrid!Andgoldflushedmore.
Ahuskyfifenoteblew.
Blew.Bluebloomisonthe.
Goldpinnacledhair.
Ajumpingroseonsatinybreastofsatin,roseofCastile.
Trilling,trilling:Idolores.
Peep!Who'sinthe...peepofgold?
Tinkcriedtobronzeinpity.
Andacall,pure,longandthrobbing.Longindyingcall.
Decoy.Softword.Butlook:thebrightstarsfade.Noteschirrupinganswer.
Orose!Castile.Themornisbreaking.
Jinglejinglejauntedjingling.
Coinrang.Clockclacked.
Avowal. Sonnez. I could. Rebound of garter. Not leave thee. Smack. La cloche! Thigh
smack.Avowal.Warm.Sweetheart,goodbye!
Jingle.Bloo.
Boomedcrashingchords.Whenloveabsorbs.War!War!Thetympanum.
Asail!Aveilawaveuponthewaves.
Lost.Throstlefluted.Allislostnow.
Horn.Hawhorn.
Whenfirsthesaw.Alas!
Fulltup.Fullthrob.
Warbling.Ah,lure!Alluring.
Martha!Come!
Clapclap.Clipclap.Clappyclap.
Goodgodheneverheardinall.
DeafbaldPatbroughtpadknifetookup.
Amoonlitnightcall:far,far.
Ifeelsosad.P.S.Solonelyblooming.
Listen!
Thespikedandwindingcoldseahorn.Haveyouthe?Each,andforother,plashandsilent
roar.
Pearls:whenshe.Liszt'srhapsodies.Hissss.
Youdon't?
Didnot:no,no:believe:Lidlyd.Withacockwithacarra.
Black.Deepsounding.Do,Ben,do.
Waitwhileyouwait.Heehee.Waitwhileyouhee.
Butwait!

Lowindarkmiddleearth.Embeddedore.
Naminedamine.Preacherishe:
Allgone.Allfallen.
Tiny,hertremulousfernfoilsofmaidenhair.
Amen!Hegnashedinfury.
Fro.To,fro.Abatoncoolprotruding.
BronzelydiabyMinagold.
Bybronze,bygold,inoceangreenofshadow.Bloom.OldBloom.
Onerapped,onetapped,withacarra,withacock.
Prayforhim!Pray,goodpeople!
Hisgoutyfingersnakkering.
BigBenaben.BigBenben.
LastroseCastileofsummerleftbloomIfeelsosadalone.
Pwee!Littlewindpipedwee.
True men. Lid Ker Cow De and Doll. Ay, ay. Like you men. Will lift your tschink with
tschunk.
Fff!Oo!
Wherebronzefromanear?Wheregoldfromafar?Wherehoofs?
Rrrpr.Kraa.Kraandl.
Thennottillthen.Myeppripfftaph.Bepfrwritt.
Done.
Begin!
Bronze by gold, miss Douce's head by miss Kennedy's head, over the crossblind of the
Ormondbarheardtheviceregalhoofsgoby,ringingsteel.
Isthather?askedmissKennedy.
MissDoucesaidyes,sittingwithhisex,pearlgreyandeaudeNil.
Exquisitecontrast,missKennedysaid.
WhenallagogmissDoucesaideagerly:
Lookatthefellowinthetallsilk.
Who?Where?goldaskedmoreeagerly.
Inthesecondcarriage,missDouce'swetlipssaid,laughinginthesun.
He'slooking.MindtillIsee.
Shedarted,bronze,tothebackmostcorner,flatteningherfaceagainstthepaneinahaloof
hurriedbreath.
Herwetlipstittered:
He'skilledlookingback.
Shelaughed:
Owept!Aren'tmenfrightfulidiots?
Withsadness.
Miss Kennedy sauntered sadly from bright light, twining a loose hair behind an ear.
Saunteringsadly,goldnomore,shetwistedtwinedahair.
Sadlyshetwinedinsaunteringgoldhairbehindacurvingear.
It'sthemhasthefinetimes,sadlythenshesaid.
Aman.
Bloowho went by by Moulang's pipes bearing in his breast the sweets of sin, by Wine's

antiques,inmemorybearingsweetsinfulwords,byCarroll'sduskybatteredplate,forRaoul.
The boots to them, them in the bar, them barmaids came. For them unheeding him he
bangedonthecounterhistrayofchatteringchina.And
There'syourteas,hesaid.
MissKennedywithmannerstransposedtheteatraydowntoanupturnedlithiacrate,safe
fromeyes,low.
Whatisit?loudbootsunmannerlyasked.
Findout,missDouceretorted,leavingherspyingpoint.
Yourbeau,isit?
Ahaughtybronzereplied:
I'llcomplaintoMrsdeMasseyonyouifIhearanymoreofyourimpertinentinsolence.
Imperthnthnthnthnthn,bootssnoutsniffedrudely,asheretreatedasshethreatenedashe
hadcome.
Bloom.
OnherflowerfrowningmissDoucesaid:
Mostaggravatingthatyoungbratis.Ifhedoesn'tconducthimselfI'llwringhisearfor
himayardlong.
Ladylikeinexquisitecontrast.
Takenonotice,missKennedyrejoined.
Shepouredinateacuptea,thenbackintheteapottea.Theycoweredundertheirreefof
counter, waiting on footstools, crates upturned, waiting for their teas to draw. They pawed
theirblouses,bothofblacksatin,twoandnineayard,waitingfortheirteastodraw,andtwo
andseven.
Yes,bronzefromanear,bygoldfromafar,heardsteelfromanear,hoofsringfromafar,and
heardsteelhoofsringhoofringsteel.
AmIawfullysunburnt?
Missbronzeunblousedherneck.
No,saidmissKennedy.Itgetsbrownafter.Didyoutrytheboraxwiththecherrylaurel
water?
Miss Douce halfstood to see her skin askance in the barmirror gildedlettered where hock
andclaretglassesshimmeredandintheirmidstashell.
Andleaveittomyhands,shesaid.
Tryitwiththeglycerine,missKennedyadvised.
BiddingherneckandhandsadieumissDouce
Thosethingsonlybringoutarash,replied,reseated.IaskedthatoldfogeyinBoyd'sfor
somethingformyskin.
MissKennedy,pouringnowafulldrawntea,grimacedandprayed:
O,don'tremindmeofhimformercy'sake!
ButwaittillItellyou,missDouceentreated.
SweetteamissKennedyhavingpouredwithmilkpluggedbothtwoearswithlittlefingers.
No,don't,shecried.
Iwon'tlisten,shecried.
ButBloom?
MissDoucegruntedinsnuffyfogey'stone:
Foryourwhat?sayshe.
MissKennedyunpluggedherearstohear,tospeak:butsaid,butprayedagain:

Don'tletmethinkofhimorI'llexpire.Thehideousoldwretch!ThatnightintheAntient
ConcertRooms.
Shesippeddistastefullyherbrew,hottea,asip,sipped,sweettea.
Here he was, miss Douce said, cocking her bronze head three quarters, ruffling her
nosewings.Hufa!Hufa!
ShrillshriekoflaughtersprangfrommissKennedy'sthroat.MissDoucehuffedandsnorted
downhernostrilsthatquiveredimperthnthnlikeasnoutinquest.
O!shrieking,missKennedycried.Willyoueverforgethisgoggleeye?
MissDoucechimedinindeepbronzelaughter,shouting:
Andyourothereye!
Bloowhose dark eye read Aaron Figatner's name. Why do I always think Figather?
Gathering figs, I think. And Prosper Lore's huguenot name. By Bassi's blessed virgins
Bloom'sdarkeyeswentby.Bluerobed,whiteunder,cometome.Godtheybelievesheis:or
goddess.Thosetoday.Icouldnotsee.Thatfellowspoke.Astudent.AfterwithDedalus'son.
HemightbeMulligan.Allcomelyvirgins.Thatbringsthoserakesoffellowsin:herwhite.
Bywenthiseyes.Thesweetsofsin.Sweetarethesweets.
Ofsin.
Inagigglingpealyounggoldbronzevoicesblended,DoucewithKennedyyourothereye.
Theythrewyoungheadsback,bronzegigglegold,toletfreeflytheirlaughter,screaming,your
other,signalstoeachother,highpiercingnotes.
Ah,panting,sighing,sighing,ah,fordone,theirmirthdieddown.
Miss Kennedy lipped her cup again, raised, drank a sip and gigglegiggled. Miss Douce,
bending over the teatray, ruffled again her nose and rolled droll fattened eyes. Again
Kennygiggles,stooping,herfairpinnaclesofhair, stooping, her tortoise napecomb showed,
spluttered out of her mouth her tea, choking in tea and laughter, coughing with choking,
crying:
Ogreasyeyes!Imaginebeingmarriedtoamanlikethat!shecried.Withhisbitofbeard!
Doucegavefullventtoasplendidyell,afullyelloffullwoman,delight,joy,indignation.
Marriedtothegreasynose!sheyelled.
Shrill,withdeeplaughter,after,goldafterbronze,theyurgedeacheachtopealafterpeal,
ringing in changes, bronzegold, goldbronze, shrilldeep, to laughter after laughter. And then
laughed more. Greasy I knows. Exhausted, breathless, their shaken heads they laid, braided
andpinnacledbyglossycombed,againstthecounterledge.Allflushed(O!),panting,sweating
(O!),allbreathless.
MarriedtoBloom,togreaseabloom.
Osaintsabove!missDoucesaid,sighedaboveherjumpingrose.Iwished
Ihadn'tlaughedsomuch.Ifeelallwet.
O,missDouce!missKennedyprotested.Youhorridthing!
Andflushedyetmore(youhorrid!),moregoldenly.
By Cantwell's offices roved Greaseabloom, by Ceppi's virgins, bright of their oils.
Nannetti'sfatherhawkedthosethingsabout,wheedlingatdoorsasI.Religionpays.Mustsee
himforthatpar.Eatfirst.Iwant.Notyet.Atfour,shesaid.Timeeverpassing.Clockhands
turning.On.Whereeat?TheClarence,Dolphin.On.ForRaoul.Eat.IfInetfiveguineaswith
thoseads.Thevioletsilkpetticoats.Notyet.Thesweetsofsin.
Flushedless,stillless,goldenlypaled.
Into their bar strolled Mr Dedalus. Chips, picking chips off one of his rocky thumbnails.
Chips.Hestrolled.
O,welcomeback,missDouce.

Heheldherhand.Enjoyedherholidays?
Tiptop.
HehopedshehadniceweatherinRostrevor.
Gorgeous,shesaid.LookattheholyshowIam.Lyingoutonthestrandallday.
Bronzewhiteness.
That was exceedingly naughty of you, Mr Dedalus told her and pressed her hand
indulgently.Temptingpoorsimplemales.
MissDouceofsatindoucedherarmaway.
Ogoaway!shesaid.You'reverysimple,Idon'tthink.
Hewas.
Well now I am, he mused. I looked so simple in the cradle they christenedmesimple
Simon.
Youmusthavebeenadoaty,missDoucemadeanswer.Andwhatdidthedoctororder
today?
Wellnow,hemused,whateveryousayyourself.IthinkI'lltroubleyouforsomefresh
waterandahalfglassofwhisky.
Jingle.
Withthegreatestalacrity,missDouceagreed.
With grace of alacrity towards the mirror gilt Cantrell and Cochrane's she turned herself.
Withgraceshetappedameasureofgoldwhiskyfromhercrystalkeg.Forthfromtheskirtof
hiscoatMrDedalusbroughtpouchandpipe.Alacritysheserved.Heblewthroughtheflue
twohuskyfifenotes.
ByJove,hemused,IoftenwantedtoseetheMournemountains.Mustbeagreattonicin
theairdownthere.Butalongthreateningcomesatlast,theysay.Yes.Yes.
Yes. He fingered shreds of hair, her maidenhair, her mermaid's, into the bowl. Chips.
Shreds.Musing.Mute.
Nonenoughtsaidnothing.Yes.
GailymissDoucepolishedatumbler,trilling:
O,Idolores,queenoftheeasternseas!
WasMrLidwellintoday?
IncameLenehan.RoundhimpeeredLenehan.MrBloomreachedEssexbridge.Yes,Mr
BloomcrossedbridgeofYessex.ToMarthaImustwrite.Buypaper.Daly's.Girltherecivil.
Bloom.OldBloom.Bluebloomisontherye.
Hewasinatlunchtime,missDoucesaid.
Lenehancameforward.
WasMrBoylanlookingforme?
Heasked.Sheanswered:
MissKennedy,wasMrBoylaninwhileIwasupstairs?
Sheasked.MissvoiceofKennedyanswered,asecondteacuppoised,hergazeuponapage:
No.Hewasnot.
Miss gaze of Kennedy, heard, not seen, read on. Lenehan round the sandwichbell wound
hisroundbodyround.
Peep!Who'sinthecorner?
NoglanceofKennedyrewardinghimheyetmadeovertures.Tomindherstops.Toread
onlytheblackones:roundoandcrookedess.
Jinglejauntyjingle.
Girlgoldshereadanddidnotglance.Takenonotice.Shetooknonoticewhilehereadby

roteasolfafableforher,plapperingflatly:
Ahfoxmetahstork.Saidtheefoxtootheestork:Willyouputyourbilldowninnmy
troathandpulluppahbone?
Hedronedinvain.MissDouceturnedtoherteaaside.
Hesighedaside:
Ahme!Omy!
HegreetedMrDedalusandgotanod.
Greetingsfromthefamoussonofafamousfather.
Whomayhebe?MrDedalusasked.
Lenehanopenedmostgenialarms.Who?
Whomayhebe?heasked.Canyouask?Stephen,theyouthfulbard.
Dry.
MrDedalus,famousfather,laidbyhisdryfilledpipe.
I see, he said. I didn't recognise him for the moment. I hear he is keeping very select
company.Haveyouseenhimlately?
Hehad.
Iquaffedthenectarbowlwithhimthisveryday,saidLenehan.InMooney'senvilleand
inMooney'ssurmer.Hehadreceivedtherhinoforthelabourofhismuse.
Hesmiledatbronze'steabathedlips,atlisteninglipsandeyes:
TheliteofErinhunguponhislips.Theponderouspundit,Hugh
MacHugh, Dublin's most brilliant scribe and editor and that minstrel boy of the wild wet
westwhoisknownbytheeuphoniousappellationoftheO'MaddenBurke.
AfteranintervalMrDedalusraisedhisgrogand
Thatmusthavebeenhighlydiverting,saidhe.Isee.
Hesee.Hedrank.Withfarawaymourningmountaineye.Setdownhisglass.
Helookedtowardsthesaloondoor.
Iseeyouhavemovedthepiano.
Thetunerwasintoday,missDoucereplied,tuningitforthesmokingconcertandInever
heardsuchanexquisiteplayer.
Isthatafact?
Didn'the,missKennedy?Therealclassical,youknow.Andblindtoo,poorfellow.Not
twentyI'msurehewas.
Isthatafact?MrDedalussaid.
Hedrankandstrayedaway.
Sosadtolookathisface,missDoucecondoled.
God'scurseonbitch'sbastard.
Tinktoherpitycriedadiner'sbell.TothedoorofthebaranddiningroomcamebaldPat,
camebotheredPat,camePat,waiterofOrmond.Lagerfordiner.Lagerwithoutalacrityshe
served.
WithpatienceLenehanwaitedforBoylanwithimpatience,forjinglejauntyblazesboy.
Upholding the lid he (who?) gazed in the coffin (coffin?) at the oblique triple (piano!)
wires.Hepressed(thesamewhopressedindulgentlyherhand),softpedalling,atripleofkeys
toseethethicknessesoffeltadvancing,tohearthemuffledhammerfallinaction.
TwosheetscreamvellumpaperonereservetwoenvelopeswhenIwasinWisdomHely's
wise Bloom in Daly's Henry Flower bought. Are you not happy in your home? Flower to
consolemeandapincutslo.Meanssomething,languageofflow.Wasitadaisy?Innocence
that is. Respectable girl meet after mass. Thanks awfully muchly. Wise Bloom eyed on the

dooraposter,aswayingmermaidsmokingmidnicewaves.Smokemermaids,coolestwhiff
ofall. Hair streaming: lovelorn. For some man. For Raoul. He eyed and saw afar on Essex
bridgeagayhatridingonajauntingcar.Itis.Again.Thirdtime.Coincidence.
JinglingonsupplerubbersitjauntedfromthebridgetoOrmondquay.Follow.Riskit.Go
quick.Atfour.Nearnow.Out.
Twopence,sir,theshopgirldaredtosay.
Aha...Iwasforgetting...Excuse...
Andfour.
At four she. Winsomely she on Bloohimwhom smiled. Bloo smi qui go. Ternoon. Think
you'retheonlypebbleonthebeach?Doesthattoall.
Formen.
Indrowsysilencegoldbentonherpage.
From the saloon a call came, long in dying. That was a tuningfork the tuner had that he
forgotthathenowstruck.Acallagain.Thathenowpoisedthatitnowthrobbed.Youhear?It
throbbed,pure,purer,softlyandsoftlier,itsbuzzingprongs.Longerindyingcall.
Pat paid for diner's popcorked bottle: and over tumbler, tray and popcorked bottle ere he
wenthewhispered,baldandbothered,withmiss
Douce.
Thebrightstarsfade...
Avoicelesssongsangfromwithin,singing:
...themornisbreaking.
Aduodeneofbirdnoteschirrupedbrighttrebleanswerundersensitivehands.Brightlythe
keys, all twinkling, linked, all harpsichording, called to a voice to sing the strain of dewy
morn,ofyouth,oflove'sleavetaking,life's,love'smorn.
Thedewdropspearl...
Lenehan'slipsoverthecounterlispedalowwhistleofdecoy.
Butlookthisway,hesaid,roseofCastile.
Jinglejauntedbythecurbandstopped.
Sheroseandclosedherreading,roseofCastile:fretted,forlorn,dreamilyrose.
Didshefallorwasshepushed?heaskedher.
Sheanswered,slighting:
Asknoquestionsandyou'llhearnolies.
Likelady,ladylike.
BlazesBoylan'ssmarttanshoescreakedonthebarfloorwherehestrode.Yes,goldfrom
anearbybronzefromafar.Lenehanheardandknewandhailedhim:
Seetheconqueringherocomes.
Betweenthecarandwindow,warilywalking,wentBloom,unconqueredhero.Seemehe
might.Theseathesaton:warm.BlackwaryhecatwalkedtowardsRichieGoulding'slegal
bag,liftedaloft,saluting.
AndIfromthee...
Iheardyouwereround,saidBlazesBoylan.
HetouchedtofairmissKennedyarimofhisslantedstraw.Shesmiledonhim.Butsister
bronzeoutsmiledher,preeningforhimherricherhair,abosomandarose.
SmartBoylanbespokepotions.
What'syourcry?Glassofbitter?Glassofbitter,please,andasloeginforme.Wirein
yet?
Notyet.Atfourshe.Whosaidfour?

Cowley'sredlugsandbulgingappleinthedoorofthesheriff'soffice.
Avoid.Gouldingachance.WhatishedoingintheOrmond?Carwaiting.
Wait.
Hello.Whereoffto?Somethingtoeat?Itoowasjust.Inhere.What,Ormond?Bestvalue
inDublin.Isthatso?Diningroom.Sittightthere.See,notbeseen.IthinkI'lljoinyou.Come
on.Richieledon.Bloomfollowedbag.Dinnerfitforaprince.
Miss Douce reached high to take a flagon, stretching her satin arm, her bust, that all but
burst,sohigh.
O!O!jerkedLenehan,gaspingateachstretch.O!
Buteasilysheseizedherpreyandleditlowintriumph.
Whydon'tyougrow?askedBlazesBoylan.
Shebronze,dealingfromherobliquejarthicksyrupyliquorforhislips,lookedasitflowed
(flowerinhiscoat:whogavehim?),andsyruppedwithhervoice:
Finegoodsinsmallparcels.
Thatistosayshe.Neatlyshepouredslowsyrupysloe.
Here'sfortune,Blazessaid.
Hepitchedabroadcoindown.Coinrang.
Holdon,saidLenehan,tillI...
Fortune,hewished,liftinghisbubbledale.
Sceptrewillwininacanter,hesaid.
Iplungedabit,saidBoylanwinkinganddrinking.Notonmyown,youknow.Fancyofa
friendofmine.
Lenehan still drank and grinned at his tilted ale and at miss Douce's lips that all but
hummed,notshut,theoceansongherlipshadtrilled.
Idolores.Theeasternseas.
Clockwhirred.MissKennedypassedtheirway(flower,wonderwhogave),bearingaway
teatray.Clockclacked.
MissDoucetookBoylan'scoin,struckboldlythecashregister.Itclanged.Clockclacked.
FaironeofEgyptteasedandsortedinthetillandhummedandhandedcoinsinchange.Look
tothewest.Aclack.Forme.
Whattimeisthat?askedBlazesBoylan.Four?
O'clock.
Lenehan, small eyes ahunger on her humming, bust ahumming, tugged Blazes Boylan's
elbowsleeve.
Let'shearthetime,hesaid.
The bag of Goulding, Collis, Ward led Bloom by ryebloom flowered tables. Aimless he
chose with agitated aim, bald Pat attending, a table near the door. Be near. At four. Has he
forgotten? Perhaps a trick. Not come: whet appetite. I couldn't do. Wait, wait. Pat, waiter,
waited.
SparklingbronzeazureeyedBlazure'sskybluebowandeyes.
Goon,pressedLenehan.There'snoone.Heneverheard.
...toFlora'slipsdidhie.
High,ahighnotepealedinthetrebleclear.
Bronzedoucecommuningwithherrosethatsankandrosesought
BlazesBoylan'sflowerandeyes.
Please,please.
Hepleadedoverreturningphrasesofavowal.

Icouldnotleavethee...
Afterwits,missDoucepromisedcoyly.
No,now,urgedLenehan.Sonnezlacloche!Odo!There'snoone.
Shelooked.Quick.MissKennoutofearshot.Suddenbent.Twokindlingfaceswatchedher
bend.
Quaveringthechordsstrayedfromtheair,founditagain,lostchord,andlostandfoundit,
faltering.
Goon!Do!Sonnez!
Bending,shenippedapeakofskirtaboveherknee.Delayed.Tauntedthemstill,bending,
suspending,withwilfuleyes.
Sonnez!
Smack. She set free sudden in rebound her nipped elastic garter smackwarm against her
smackableawoman'swarmhosedthigh.
LaCloche!criedgleefulLenehan.Trainedbyowner.Nosawdustthere.
Shesmilesmirkedsupercilious(wept!aren'tmen?),but,lightwardgliding,mildshesmiled
onBoylan.
You'retheessenceofvulgarity,sheinglidingsaid.
Boylan,eyed,eyed.Tossedtofatlipshischalice,drankoffhischalicetiny,suckingthelast
fatvioletsyrupydrops.Hisspellboundeyeswentafter,afterherglidingheadasitwentdown
the bar by mirrors, gilded arch for ginger ale, hock and claret glasses shimmering, a spiky
shell,whereitconcerted,mirrored,bronzewithsunnierbronze.
Yes,bronzefromanearby.
...Sweetheart,goodbye!
I'moff,saidBoylanwithimpatience.
Heslidhischalicebriskaway,graspedhischange.
Waitashake,beggedLenehan,drinkingquickly.Iwantedtotellyou.
TomRochford...
Comeontoblazes,saidBlazesBoylan,going.
Lenehangulpedtogo.
Gotthehornorwhat?hesaid.Wait.I'mcoming.
Hefollowedthehastycreakingshoesbutstoodbynimblybythethreshold,salutingforms,
abulkywithaslender.
Howdoyoudo,MrDollard?
Eh? How do? How do? Ben Dollard's vague bass answered, turning an instant from
FatherCowley'swoe.Hewon'tgiveyouanytrouble,Bob.AlfBerganwillspeaktothelong
fellow.We'llputabarleystrawinthatJudasIscariot'searthistime.
SighingMrDedaluscamethroughthesaloon,afingersoothinganeyelid.
Hoho,wewill,BenDollardyodledjollily.Comeon,Simon.Giveusaditty.Weheard
thepiano.
BaldPat,botheredwaiter,waitedfordrinkorders.PowerforRichie.AndBloom?Letme
see.Notmakehimwalktwice.Hiscorns.Fournow.Howwarmthisblackis.Coursenervesa
bit.Refracts(isit?)heat.Letmesee.Cider.Yes,bottleofcider.
What'sthat?MrDedalussaid.Iwasonlyvamping,man.
Comeon,comeon,BenDollardcalled.Begonedullcare.Come,Bob.
HeambledDollard,bulkyslops,beforethem(holdthatfellowwiththe:holdhimnow)into
thesaloon.HeplumpedhimDollardonthestool.Hisgoutypawsplumpedchords.Plumped,
stoppedabrupt.

BaldPatinthedoorwaymettealessgoldreturning.Bothered,hewantedPowerandcider.
Bronzebythewindow,watched,bronzefromafar.
Jingleatinklejaunted.
Bloomheardajing,alittlesound.He'soff.LightsobofbreathBloomsighedonthesilent
bluehuedflowers.Jingling.He'sgone.Jingle.Hear.
LoveandWar,Ben,MrDedalussaid.Godbewitholdtimes.
Miss Douce's brave eyes, unregarded, turned from the crossblind, smitten by sunlight.
Gone. Pensive (who knows?), smitten (the smiting light), she lowered the dropblind with a
slidingcord.Shedrewdownpensive(whydidhegosoquickwhenI?)aboutherbronze,over
thebarwherebaldstoodbysistergold,inexquisitecontrast,contrastinexquisitenonexquisite,
slowcooldimseagreenslidingdepthofshadow,eaudeNil.
PooroldGoodwinwasthepianistthatnight,FatherCowleyremindedthem.Therewasa
slightdifferenceofopinionbetweenhimselfandtheCollardgrand.
Therewas.
A symposium all his own, Mr Dedalus said. The devil wouldn't stop him. He was a
crotchetyoldfellowintheprimarystageofdrink.
God, do you remember? Ben bulky Dollard said, turning from the punished keyboard.
AndbyJapersIhadnoweddinggarment.
Theylaughedallthree.Hehadnowed.Alltriolaughed.Noweddinggarment.
OurfriendBloomturnedinhandythatnight,MrDedalussaid.Where'smypipe,bythe
way?
He wandered back to the bar to the lost chord pipe. Bald Pat carried two diners' drinks,
RichieandPoldy.AndFatherCowleylaughedagain.
Isavedthesituation,Ben,Ithink.
Youdid,averredBenDollard.Irememberthosetighttrouserstoo.Thatwasabrilliant
idea,Bob.
FatherCowleyblushedtohisbrilliantpurplylobes.Hesavedthesitua.Tighttrou.Brilliant
ide.
Iknewhewasontherocks,hesaid.Thewifewasplayingthepianointhecoffeepalace
on Saturdays for a very trifling consideration and who was it gave me the wheeze she was
doingtheotherbusiness?Doyouremember?WehadtosearchallHollesstreettofindthem
tillthechapinKeogh'sgaveusthenumber.Remember?Benremembered,hisbroadvisage
wondering.
ByGod,shehadsomeluxuriousoperacloaksandthingsthere.
MrDedaluswanderedback,pipeinhand.
Merrion square style. Balldresses, by God, and court dresses. He wouldn't take any
moneyeither.What?AnyGod'squantityofcockedhatsandbolerosandtrunkhose.What?
Ay,ay,MrDedalusnodded.MrsMarionBloomhasleftoffclothesofalldescriptions.
Jinglejaunteddownthequays.Blazessprawledonboundingtyres.
Liverandbacon.Steakandkidneypie.Right,sir.Right,Pat.
MrsMarion.Methimpikehoses.Smellofburn.OfPauldeKock.Nicenamehe.
What'sthishernamewas?Abuxomlassy.Marion...
Tweedy.
Yes.Isshealive?
Andkicking.
Shewasadaughterof...
Daughteroftheregiment.
Yes,begad.Iremembertheolddrummajor.

MrDedalusstruck,whizzed,lit,puffedsavourypuffafter
Irish?Idon'tknow,faith.Isshe,Simon?
Puffafterstiff,apuff,strong,savoury,crackling.
Buccinatormuscleis...What?...Bitrusty...O,sheis...MyIrishMolly,O.
Hepuffedapungentplumyblast.
FromtherockofGibraltar...alltheway.
They pined in depth of ocean shadow, gold by the beerpull, bronze by maraschino,
thoughtful all two. Mina Kennedy, 4 Lismore terrace, Drumcondra with Idolores, a queen,
Dolores,silent.
Patserved,uncovereddishes.Leopoldcutliverslices.Assaidbeforeheatewithrelishthe
inner organs, nutty gizzards, fried cods' roes while Richie Goulding, Collis, Ward ate steak
andkidney,steakthenkidney,bitebybiteofpieheateBloomatetheyate.
BloomwithGoulding,marriedinsilence,ate.Dinnersfitforprinces.
ByBachelor'swalkjogjauntyjingledBlazesBoylan,bachelor,insuninheat,mare'sglossy
rumpatrot,withflickofwhip,onboundingtyres:sprawled,warmseated,Boylanimpatience,
ardentbold.Horn.Haveyouthe?Horn.Haveyouthe?Hawhawhorn.
OvertheirvoicesDollardbassoonedattack,boomingoverbombardingchords:
Whenloveabsorbsmyardentsoul...
RollofBensoulbenjaminrolledtothequiveryloveshiveryroofpanes.
War!War!criedFatherCowley.You'rethewarrior.
SoIam,BenWarriorlaughed.Iwasthinkingofyourlandlord.Loveormoney.
Hestopped.Hewaggedhugebeard,hugefaceoverhisblunderhuge.
Sure,you'dburstthetympanumofherear,man,MrDedalussaidthroughsmokearoma,
withanorganlikeyours.
InbeardedabundantlaughterDollardshookuponthekeyboard.Hewould.
Nottomentionanothermembrane,FatherCowleyadded.Halftime,Ben.Amoroso ma
nontroppo.Letmethere.
MissKennedyservedtwogentlemenwithtankardsofcoolstout.Shepassedaremark.It
was indeed, first gentleman said, beautiful weather. They drank cool stout. Did she know
where the lord lieutenant was going? And heard steelhoofs ringhoof ring. No, she couldn't
say.Butitwouldbeinthepaper.O,sheneednottrouble.Notrouble.Shewavedabouther
outspreadIndependent,searching,thelordlieutenant,herpinnaclesofhairslowmoving,lord
lieuten.Toomuchtrouble,firstgentlemansaid.O,notintheleast.Wayhelookedthat.Lord
lieutenant.Goldbybronzeheardironsteel.
............myardentsoul
Icarenotfororthemorrow.

In liver gravy Bloom mashed mashed potatoes. Love and War someone is. Ben Dollard's
famous.Nightheranroundtoustoborrowadresssuitforthatconcert.Trouserstightasa
drumonhim.Musicalporkers.Mollydidlaughwhenhewentout.Threwherselfbackacross
thebed,screaming,kicking.Withallhisbelongingsonshow.Osaintsabove,I'mdrenched!
O,thewomeninthefrontrow!O,Ineverlaughedsomany!Well,ofcoursethat'swhatgives
him the base barreltone. For instance eunuchs. Wonder who's playing. Nice touch. Must be
Cowley.Musical.Knowswhatevernoteyouplay.Badbreathhehas,poorchap.Stopped.
MissDouce,engaging,LydiaDouce,bowedtosuavesolicitor,GeorgeLidwell,gentleman,
entering. Good afternoon. She gave her moist (a lady's) hand to his firm clasp. Afternoon.
Yes,shewasback.Totheolddingdongagain.
Yourfriendsareinside,MrLidwell.
GeorgeLidwell,suave,solicited,heldalydiahand.

Bloom ate liv as said before. Clean here at least. That chap in the Burton, gummy with
gristle.Noonehere:GouldingandI.Cleantables,flowers,mitresofnapkins.Pattoandfro.
BaldPat.Nothingtodo.BestvalueinDub.
Piano again. Cowley it is. Way he sits in to it, like one together, mutual understanding.
Tiresome shapers scraping fiddles, eye on the bowend, sawing the cello, remind you of
toothache. Her high long snore. Night we were in the box. Trombone under blowing like a
grampus, between the acts, other brass chap unscrewing, emptying spittle. Conductor's legs
too,bagstrousers,jiggedyjiggedy.Dorighttohidethem.
Jiggedyjinglejauntyjaunty.
Only the harp. Lovely. Gold glowering light. Girl touched it. Poop of a lovely. Gravy's
rathergoodfitfora.Goldenship.Erin.Theharpthatonceortwice.Coolhands.BenHowth,
therhododendrons.Wearetheirharps.I.He.Old.Young.
Ah,Icouldn't,man,MrDedalussaid,shy,listless.
Strongly.
Goon,blastyou!BenDollardgrowled.Getitoutinbits.
M'appari,Simon,FatherCowleysaid.
Downstagehestrodesomepaces,grave,tallinaffliction,hislongarmsoutheld.Hoarsely
the apple of his throat hoarsed softly. Softly he sang to a dusty seascape there: A Last
Farewell.Aheadland,aship,asailuponthebillows.Farewell.Alovelygirl,herveilawave
uponthewindupontheheadland,windaroundher.
Cowleysang:
M'apparitutt'amor:
Ilmiosguardol'incontr...

Shewaved,unhearingCowley,herveil,toonedeparting,dearone,towind,love,speeding
sail,return.
Goon,Simon.
Ah,sure,mydancingdaysaredone,Ben...Well...
Mr Dedalus laid his pipe to rest beside the tuningfork and, sitting, touched the obedient
keys.
No,Simon,FatherCowleyturned.Playitintheoriginal.Oneflat.
Thekeys,obedient,rosehigher,told,faltered,confessed,confused.
UpstagestrodeFatherCowley.
Here,Simon,I'llaccompanyyou,hesaid.Getup.
By Graham Lemon's pineapple rock, by Elvery's elephant jingly jogged. Steak, kidney,
liver,mashed,at meat fit for princessat princes Bloom and Goulding. Princes at meat they
raisedanddrank,Powerandcider.
Mostbeautifultenoraireverwritten,Richiesaid:Sonnambula.HeheardJoeMaassingthat
onenight.Ah,whatM'Guckin!Yes.Inhisway.Choirboystyle.Maaswastheboy.Massboy.
Alyricaltenorifyoulike.Neverforgetit.Never.
Tenderly Bloom over liverless bacon saw the tightened features strain. Backache he.
Bright's bright eye. Next item on the programme. Paying the piper. Pills, pounded bread,
worthaguineaabox.Staveitoffawhile.Singstoo:Downamongthedeadmen.Appropriate.
Kidneypie.Sweetstothe.Notmakingmuchhandofit.Bestvaluein.Characteristicofhim.
Power.Particularabouthisdrink.Flawintheglass,freshVartrywater.Feckingmatchesfrom
counterstosave.Thensquanderasovereignindribsanddrabs.Andwhenhe'swantednota
farthing.Screwedrefusingtopayhisfare.Curioustypes.
Never would Richie forget that night. As long as he lived: never. In the gods of the old
RoyalwithlittlePeake.Andwhenthefirstnote.

SpeechpausedonRichie'slips.
Comingoutwithawhoppernow.Rhapsodiesaboutdamnall.
Believeshisownlies.Doesreally.Wonderfulliar.Butwantagoodmemory.
Whichairisthat?askedLeopoldBloom.
Allislostnow.
Richiecockedhislipsapout.Alowincipientnotesweetbansheemurmured:all.Athrush.
Athrostle.Hisbreath,birdsweet,goodteethhe'sproudof,flutedwithplaintivewoe.Islost.
Rich sound. Two notes in one there. Blackbird I heard in the hawthorn valley. Taking my
motiveshetwinedandturnedthem.Allmosttoonewcallislostinall.Echo.Howsweetthe
answer.Howisthatdone?Alllostnow.Mournfulhewhistled.Fall,surrender,lost.
Bloom bent leopold ear, turning a fringe of doyley down under the vase. Order. Yes, I
remember.Lovelyair.Insleepshewenttohim.Innocenceinthemoon.Brave.Don'tknow
theirdanger.Stillholdherback.Callname.Touchwater.Jinglejaunty.Toolate.Shelonged
togo.That'swhy.Woman.Aseasystopthesea.Yes:allislost.
Abeautifulair,saidBloomlostLeopold.Iknowitwell.
NeverinallhislifehadRichieGoulding.
Heknowsitwelltoo.Orhefeels.Stillharpingonhisdaughter.Wisechildthatknowsher
father,Dedalussaid.Me?
Bloomaskanceoverliverlesssaw.Faceoftheallislost.RollickingRichieonce.Jokesold
stalenow.Wagginghisear.Napkinringinhiseye.Nowbegginglettershesendshissonwith.
CrosseyedWaltersirIdidsir.Wouldn'ttroubleonlyIwasexpectingsomemoney.Apologise.
Pianoagain.SoundsbetterthanlasttimeIheard.Tunedprobably.Stoppedagain.
DollardandCowleystillurgedthelingeringsingeroutwithit.
Withit,Simon.
It,Simon.
Ladiesandgentlemen,Iammostdeeplyobligedbyyourkindsolicitations.
It,Simon.
IhavenomoneybutifyouwilllendmeyourattentionIshallendeavourtosingtoyouof
aheartboweddown.
BythesandwichbellinscreeningshadowLydia,herbronzeandrose,alady'sgrace,gave
andwithheld:asincoolglaucouseaudeNilMinatotankardstwoherpinnaclesofgold.
Theharpingchordsofpreludeclosed.Achord,longdrawn,expectant,drewavoiceaway.
WhenfirstIsawthatformendearing...
Richieturned.
SiDedalus'voice,hesaid.
Braintipped,cheektouchedwithflame,theylistenedfeelingthatflowendearingflowover
skinlimbshumanheartsoulspine.BloomsignedtoPat,baldPatisawaiterhardofhearing,
to set ajar the door of the bar. The door of the bar. So. That will do. Pat, waiter, waited,
waitingtohear,forhewashardofhearbythedoor.
Sorrowfrommeseemedtodepart.
Throughthehushofairavoicesangtothem,low,notrain,notleavesinmurmur,likeno
voiceofstringsorreedsorwhatdoyoucallthemdulcimerstouchingtheirstillearswithwords,
still hearts of their each his remembered lives. Good, good to hear: sorrow from them each
seemed to from both depart when first they heard. When first they saw, lost Richie Poldy,
mercyofbeauty,heardfromapersonwouldn'texpectitintheleast,herfirstmercifullovesoft
oftlovedword.
Lovethatissinging:love'soldsweetsong.Bloomunwoundslowlytheelasticbandofhis
packet. Love's old sweet sonnez la gold. Bloom wound a skein round four forkfingers,

stretchedit,relaxed,andwounditroundhistroubleddouble,fourfold,inoctave,gyvedthem
fast.
Fullofhopeandalldelighted...
Tenorsgetwomenbythescore.Increasetheirflow.Throwflowerathisfeet.Whenwillwe
meet?Myheaditsimply.Jinglealldelighted.Hecan'tsingfortallhats.Yourheaditsimply
swurls.Perfumedforhim.Whatperfumedoesyourwife?Iwanttoknow.Jing.Stop.Knock.
Lastlookatmirroralwaysbeforesheanswersthedoor.Thehall.There?Howdoyou?Ido
well.There?What?Or?Phialofcachous,kissingcomfits,inhersatchel.Yes?Handsfeltfor
theopulent.
Alasthevoicerose,sighing,changed:loud,full,shining,proud.
Butalas,'twasidledreaming...
Glorious tone he has still. Cork air softer also their brogue. Silly man! Couldhavemade
oceansofmoney.Singingwrongwords.Woreouthiswife:nowsings.Buthardtotell.Only
thetwothemselves.Ifhedoesn'tbreakdown.Keepatrotfortheavenue.Hishandsandfeet
singtoo.Drink.Nervesoverstrung.Mustbeabstemioustosing.JennyLindsoup:stock,sage,
raweggs,halfpintofcream.Forcreamydreamy.
Tenderness it welled: slow, swelling, full it throbbed. That's the chat. Ha, give! Take!
Throb,athrob,apulsingprouderect.
Words?Music?No:it'swhat'sbehind.
Bloomlooped,unlooped,noded,disnoded.
Bloom.Floodofwarmjamjamlickitupsecretnessflowedtoflowinmusicout,indesire,
dark to lick flow invading. Tipping her tepping her tapping her topping her. Tup. Pores to
dilatedilating.Tup.Thejoythefeelthewarmthe.Tup.Topouro'ersluicespouringgushes.
Flood,gush,flow,joygush,tupthrob.Now!Languageoflove.
...rayofhopeis...
Beaming.LydiaforLidwellsqueakscarcelyhearsoladylikethemuseunsqueakedarayof
hopk.
Marthaitis.Coincidence.Justgoingtowrite.Lionel'ssong.Lovelynameyouhave.Can't
write. Accept my little pres. Play on her heartstrings pursestrings too. She's a. I called you
naughtyboy.Stillthename:Martha.Howstrange!Today.
ThevoiceofLionelreturned,weakerbutunwearied.ItsangagaintoRichiePoldyLydia
Lidwell also sang to Pat open mouth ear waiting to wait. How first he saw that form
endearing, how sorrow seemed to part, how look, form, word charmed him Gould Lidwell,
wonPatBloom'sheart.
WishIcouldseehisface,though.Explainbetter.WhythebarberinDrago'salwayslooked
my face when I spoke his face in the glass. Still hear it better here than in the bar though
farther.
Eachgracefullook...
FirstnightwhenfirstIsawheratMatDillon'sinTerenure.Yellow,black lace she wore.
Musicalchairs.Wetwothelast.Fate.Afterher.Fate.
Roundandroundslow.Quickround.Wetwo.Alllooked.Halt.Downshesat.Allousted
looked.Lipslaughing.Yellowknees.
Charmedmyeye...
Singing.Waitingshesang.Iturnedhermusic.Fullvoiceofperfumeofwhatperfumedoes
yourlilactrees.BosomIsaw,bothfull,throatwarbling.FirstIsaw.Shethankedme.Whydid
sheme?Fate.Spanishyeyes.UnderapeartreealonepatiothishourinoldMadridonesidein
shadowDoloresshedolores.Atme.Luring.Ah,alluring.
Martha!Ah,Martha!
QuittingalllanguorLionelcriedingrief,incryofpassiondominanttolovetoreturnwith

deepeningyetwithrisingchordsofharmony.Incryoflionellonelinessthatsheshouldknow,
must martha feel. For only her he waited. Where? Here there try there here all try where.
Somewhere.
Coome,thoulostone!
Coome,thoudearone!

Alone.Onelove.Onehope.Onecomfortme.Martha,chestnote,return!
Come!
Itsoared,abird,ithelditsflight,aswiftpurecry,soarsilverorbitleapedserene,speeding,
sustained,tocome,don'tspinitouttoolonglongbreathhebreathlonglife,soaringhigh,high
resplendent,aflame,crowned,highintheeffulgencesymbolistic,high,oftheetherialbosom,
high, of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about the all, the
endlessnessnessness...
Tome!
Siopold!
Consumed.
Come.Wellsung.Allclapped.Sheoughtto.Come.Tome,tohim,toher,youtoo,me,us.
Bravo!Clapclap.Goodman,Simon.Clappyclapclap.Encore!Clapclipclapclap.Sound
asabell.Bravo,Simon!Clapclopclap.Encore,enclap,said,cried,clappedall,BenDollard,
Lydia Douce, George Lidwell, Pat, Mina Kennedy, two gentlemen with two tankards,
Cowley,firstgentwithtankandbronzemissDouceandgoldMJissMina.
BlazesBoylan'ssmarttanshoescreakedonthebarfloor,saidbefore.Jinglebymonuments
ofsirJohnGray,HoratioonehandledNelson,reverendfatherTheobaldMathew,jaunted,as
saidbeforejustnow.Atrot,inheat,heatseated.Cloche.Sonnezla.Cloche.Sonnezla.Slower
the mare went up the hill by the Rotunda, Rutland square. Too slow for Boylan, blazes
Boylan,impatienceBoylan,joggledthemare.
AnafterclangofCowley'schordsclosed,diedontheairmadericher.
And Richie Goulding drank his Power and Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Lidwell his
Guinness, second gentleman said they would partake of two more tankards if she did not
mind.MissKennedysmirked,disserving,corallips,atfirst,atsecond.Shedidnotmind.
Sevendaysinjail,BenDollardsaid,onbreadandwater.Thenyou'dsing,Simon,likea
gardenthrush.
LionelSimon,singer,laughed.FatherBobCowleyplayed.MinaKennedyserved. Second
gentlemanpaid.TomKernanstruttedin.Lydia,admired,admired.ButBloomsangdumb.
Admiring.
Richie,admiring, descanted on thatman'sglorious voice.Heremembered one night long
ago.Neverforgetthatnight.Sisang'Twasrankandfame:inNedLambert's'twas.GoodGod
heneverheardinallhislifeanotelikethatheneverdidthenfalseonewehadbetterpartso
clearsoGodheneverheardsincelovelivesnotaclinkingvoicelivesnotaskLamberthecan
tellyoutoo.
Goulding, a flush struggling in his pale, told Mr Bloom, face of the night, Si in Ned
Lambert's,Dedalushouse,sang'Twasrankandfame.
He,MrBloom,listenedwhilehe,RichieGoulding,toldhim,MrBloom,ofthenighthe,
Richie,heardhim,SiDedalus,sing'TWASRANKANDFAMEinhis,NedLambert's,house.
Brothersinlaw: relations. We never speak as we pass by. Rift in the lute I think. Treats
himwithscorn.See.Headmireshimallthemore.ThenightSisang.Thehumanvoice,two
tinysilkychords,wonderful,morethanallothers.
That voice was a lamentation. Calmer now. It's in the silence after you feel you hear.
Vibrations.Nowsilentair.
Bloom ungyved his crisscrossed hands and with slack fingers plucked the slender catgut

thong. He drew and plucked. It buzz, it twanged. While Goulding talked of Barraclough's
voice production, while Tom Kernan, harking back in a retrospective sort of arrangement
talkedtolisteningFatherCowley,whoplayedavoluntary,whonoddedasheplayed.While
big Ben Dollard talked with Simon Dedalus, lighting, who nodded as he smoked, who
smoked.
Thou lost one. All songs on that theme. Yet more Bloom stretched his string. Cruel it
seems. Let people get fond of each other: lure them on. Then tear asunder. Death. Explos.
Knock on the head. Outtohelloutofthat. Human life. Dignam. Ugh, that rat's tail wriggling!
Five bob I gave. Corpus paradisum. Corncrake croaker: belly like a poisoned pup. Gone.
Theysing.Forgotten.ItooAndonedayshewith.Leaveher:gettired.Sufferthen.Snivel.
Bigspanishyeyesgogglingatnothing.Herwavyavyeavyheavyeavyevyevyhairuncomb:'d.
Yettoomuchhappybores.Hestretchedmore,more.Areyounothappyinyour?Twang.It
snapped.
JingleintoDorsetstreet.
MissDoucewithdrewhersatinyarm,reproachful,pleased.
Don'tmakehalfsofree,saidshe,tillwearebetteracquainted.
GeorgeLidwelltoldherreallyandtruly:butshedidnotbelieve.
FirstgentlemantoldMinathatwasso.Sheaskedhimwasthatso.Andsecondtankardtold
herso.Thatthatwasso.
Miss Douce, miss Lydia, did not believe: miss Kennedy, Mina, did not believe: George
Lidwell,no:missDoudidnot:thefirst,thefirst:gentwiththetank:believe,no,no:didnot,
missKenn:Lidlydiawell:thetank.
Betterwriteithere.Quillsinthepostofficechewedandtwisted.
BaldPatatasigndrewnigh.Apenandink.Hewent.Apad.Hewent.Apadtoblot.He
heard,deafPat.
Yes,MrBloomsaid,teasingthecurlingcatgutline.Itcertainlyis.Fewlineswilldo.My
present.AllthatItalianfloridmusicis.Whoisthiswrote?Knowthenameyouknowbetter.
Takeoutsheetnotepaper,envelope:unconcerned.It'ssocharacteristic.
Grandestnumberinthewholeopera,Gouldingsaid.
Itis,Bloomsaid.
Numbersitis.Allmusicwhenyoucometothink.Twomultipliedbytwodividedbyhalfis
twiceone.Vibrations:chordsthoseare.Oneplustwoplussixisseven.Doanythingyoulike
withfiguresjuggling.Alwaysfindoutthisequaltothat.Symmetryunderacemeterywall.He
doesn't see my mourning. Callous: all for his own gut. Musemathematics. And you think
you'relisteningtotheetherial.Butsupposeyousaiditlike:Martha,seventimesnineminusx
isthirtyfivethousand.Fallquiteflat.It'sonaccountofthesoundsitis.
Instance he's playing now. Improvising. Might be what you like, till you hear the words.
Wanttolistensharp.Hard.Beginallright:thenhearchordsabitoff:feellostabit.Inandout
of sacks, over barrels, through wirefences, obstacle race. Time makes the tune. Question of
mood you're in. Still always nice to hear. Except scales up and down, girls learning. Two
together nextdoor neighbours. Ought to invent dummy pianos forthat.Blumenlied I bought
forher.Thename.Playingitslow,agirl,nightIcamehome,thegirl.Doorofthestablesnear
Ceciliastreet.Millynotaste.Queerbecauseweboth,Imean.
BalddeafPatbroughtquiteflatpadink.Patsetwithinkpenquiteflatpad.Pattookplate
dishknifefork.Patwent.
ItwastheonlylanguageMrDedalussaidtoBen.HeheardthemasaboyinRingabella,
Crosshaven, Ringabella, singing their barcaroles. Queenstown harbour full of Italian ships.
Walking,youknow,Ben,inthemoonlightwiththoseearthquakehats.Blendingtheirvoices.
God,suchmusic,Ben.Heardasaboy.CrossRingabellahavenmooncarole.
Sourpiperemovedheheldashieldofhandbesidehislipsthatcooedamoonlightnightcall,

clearfromanear,acallfromafar,replying.
DowntheedgeofhisFreemanbatonrangedBloom's,yourothereye,scanningforwhere
didIseethat.Callan,Coleman,DignamPatrick.Heigho!Heigho!Fawcett.Aha!JustIwas
looking...
Hope he's not looking, cute as a rat. He held unfurled his Freeman. Can't see now.
RememberwriteGreekees.Bloomdipped,Bloomur:dearsir.DearHenrywrote:dearMady.
Gotyourlettandflow.HelldidIput?Somepockoroth.Itisutterlimposs.Underlineimposs.
Towritetoday.
Borethis.BoredBloomtambourinedgentlywithIamjustreflectingfingersonflatpadPat
brought.
On. Know what I mean. No, change that ee. Accep my poor litt pres enclos. Askherno
answ. Hold on. Five Dig. Two about here. Penny the gulls. Elijah is com. Seven Davy
Byrne's.Iseightabout.Sayhalfacrown.Mypoorlittlepres:p.o.twoandsix.Writemea
long. Do you despise? Jingle, have you the? So excited. Why do you call me naught? You
naughtytoo?O,Mairylostthestringofher.Byefortoday.Yes,yes,willtellyou.Wantto.
Tokeepitup.Callmethatother.Otherworldshewrote.Mypatienceareexhaust.Tokeepit
up.Youmustbelieve.Believe.Thetank.It.Is.True.
FollyamIwriting?Husbandsdon't.That'smarriagedoes,theirwives.BecauseI'maway
from.Suppose.Buthow?Shemust.Keepyoung.Ifshefoundout.Cardinmyhighgradeha.
No,nottellall.Uselesspain.Iftheydon'tsee.Woman.Sauceforthegander.
Ahackneycar,numberthreehundredandtwentyfour,driverBartonJamesofnumberone
Harmonyavenue,Donnybrook,onwhichsatafare,ayounggentleman,stylishlydressedin
an indigoblue serge suit made by George Robert Mesias, tailor and cutter, of number five
Edenquay,andwearingastrawhatverydressy,boughtofJohnPlastoofnumberoneGreat
Brunswickstreet,hatter.Eh?Thisisthejinglethatjoggledandjingled.ByDlugacz'porkshop
brighttubesofAgendathtrottedagallantbuttockedmare.
Answeringanad?keenRichie'seyesaskedBloom.
Yes,MrBloomsaid.Towntraveller.Nothingdoing,Iexpect.
Bloommur:bestreferences.ButHenrywrote:itwillexciteme.Youknowhow.Inhaste.
Henry.Greekee.Betteraddpostscript.Whatisheplayingnow?Improvising.Intermezzo.P.
S.Therumtumtum.Howwillyoupun?Youpunishme?Crookedskirtswinging,whackby.
TellmeIwantto.Know.O.CourseifIdidn'tIwouldn'task.Lalalaree.Trailsofftheresad
inminor.Whyminorsad?SignH.Theylikesadtailatend.P.P.S.Lalalaree.Ifeelsosad
today.Laree.Solonely.Dee.
HeblottedquickonpadofPat.Envel.Address.Justcopyoutofpaper.Murmured:Messrs
Callan,ColemanandCo,limited.Henrywrote:
MissMarthaCliffordc/oP.O.Dolphin'sBarnLaneDublin
Blotovertheothersohecan'tread.There.Right.Ideaprizetitbit.Somethingdetectiveread
off blottingpad. Payment at the rate of guinea per col. Matcham often thinks the laughing
witch.PoorMrsPurefoy.U.P:up.
Too poetical that about the sad. Music did that. Music hath charms. Shakespeare said.
Quotationseverydayintheyear.Tobeornottobe.Wisdomwhileyouwait.
InGerard'sroseryofFetterlanehewalks,greyedauburn.Onelifeisall.Onebody.Do.But
do.
Done anyhow. Postal order, stamp. Postoffice lower down. Walk now. Enough. Barney
Kiernan'sIpromisedtomeetthem.Dislikethatjob.
Houseofmourning.Walk.Pat!Doesn'thear.Deafbeetleheis.
Carneartherenow.Talk.Talk.Pat!Doesn't.Settlingthosenapkins.Lotofgroundhemust
coverintheday.Paintfacebehindonhimthenhe'dbetwo.Wishthey'dsingmore.Keepmy
mindoff.

Bald Pat who is bothered mitred the napkins. Patisawaiterhard ofhishearing.Patisa


waiter who waits while you wait. Hee hee hee hee. He waits while you wait. Hee hee. A
waiterishe.Heeheeheehee.Hewaitswhileyouwait.Whileyouwaitifyouwaithewill
waitwhileyouwait.Heeheeheehee.Hoh.Waitwhileyouwait.
Doucenow.DouceLydia.Bronzeandrose.
Shehadagorgeous,simplygorgeous,time.Andlookatthelovelyshellshebrought.
To the end of the bar to him she bore lightly the spiked and winding seahorn that he,
GeorgeLidwell,solicitor,mighthear.
Listen!shebadehim.
UnderTomKernan'sginhotwordstheaccompanistwovemusicslow.Authenticfact.How
WalterBaptylosthisvoice.Well,sir,thehusbandtookhimbythethroat.Scoundrel,saidhe,
You'llsingnomorelovesongs.He did, faith, sir Tom. Bob Cowley wove. Tenors get wom.
Cowleylayback.
Ah,nowheheard,sheholdingittohisear.Hear!Heheard.
Wonderful.Sheheldittoherown.Andthroughthesiftedlightpalegoldincontrastglided.
Tohear.
Tap.
Bloomthroughthebardoorsawashellheldattheirears.Heheardmorefaintlythatthat
theyheard,eachforherselfalone,theneachforother,hearingtheplashofwaves,loudly,a
silentroar.
Bronzebyawearygold,anear,afar,theylistened.
Hereartooisashell,thepeepinglobethere.Beentotheseaside.Lovelyseasidegirls.Skin
tanned raw. Should have put on coldcream first make it brown. Buttered toast. O and that
lotionmustn'tforget.Fevernearhermouth.Yourheaditsimply.Hairbraidedover:shellwith
seaweed. Why do they hide their ears with seaweed hair? And Turks the mouth, why? Her
eyesoverthesheet.Yashmak.Findthewayin.Acave.Noadmittanceexceptonbusiness.
Theseatheythinktheyhear.Singing.Aroar.Theblooditis.Souseintheearsometimes.
Well,it'sasea.Corpuscleislands.
Wonderfulreally.Sodistinct.Again.GeorgeLidwellhelditsmurmur,hearing:thenlaidit
by,gently.
Whatarethewildwavessaying?heaskedher,smiled.
Charming,seasmilingandunansweringLydiaonLidwellsmiled.
Tap.
ByLarryO'Rourke's,byLarry,boldLarryO',BoylanswayedandBoylanturned.
From the forsaken shell miss Mina glided to her tankards waiting. No, she was not so
lonelyarchlymissDouce'sheadletMrLidwellknow.Walksinthemoonlightbythesea.No,
notalone.Withwhom?Shenoblyanswered:withagentlemanfriend.
Bob Cowley's twinkling fingers in the treble played again. The landlord has the prior. A
littletime.LongJohn.BigBen.Lightlyheplayedalightbrighttinklingmeasurefortripping
ladies, arch and smiling, and for their gallants, gentlemen friends. One: one, one, one, one,
one:two,one,three,four.
Sea,wind,leaves,thunder,waters,cowslowing,thecattlemarket,cocks,hensdon'tcrow,
snakes hissss. There's music everywhere. Ruttledge's door: ee creaking. No, that's noise.
Minuet of Don Giovanni he's playing now. Court dresses of all descriptions in castle
chambers dancing. Misery. Peasants outside. Green starving faces eating dockleaves. Nice
thatis.Look:look,look,look,look,look:youlookatus.
That'sjoyfulIcanfeel.Neverhavewrittenit.Why?Myjoyisotherjoy.Butbotharejoys.
Yes,joyitmustbe.Merefactofmusicshowsyouare.Oftenthoughtshewasinthedumpstill
shebegantolilt.Thenknow.

M'Coyvalise.Mywifeandyourwife.Squealingcat.Liketearingsilk.Tonguewhenshe
talksliketheclapperofabellows.Theycan'tmanagemen'sintervals.Gapintheirvoicestoo.
Fillme.I'mwarm,dark,open.Mollyinquisesthomo:Mercadante.Myearagainstthewallto
hear.Wantawomanwhocandeliverthegoods.
Jogjigjoggedstopped.DandytanshoeofdandyBoylansocksskyblueclockscamelightto
earth.
O,lookweareso!Chambermusic.Couldmakeakindofpunonthat.Itisakindofmusic
I often thought when she. Acoustics that is. Tinkling. Empty vessels make most noise.
Becausetheacoustics,theresonancechangesaccordingastheweightofthewaterisequalto
the law of falling water. Like those rhapsodies of Liszt's, Hungarian, gipsyeyed. Pearls.
Drops.Rain.Diddleiddleaddleaddleooddleooddle.Hissss.Now.Maybenow.Before.
One rapped on a door, one tapped with a knock, did he knock Paul de Kock withaloud
proudknockerwithacockcarracarracarracock.Cockcock.
Tap.
Quisdegno,Ben,saidFatherCowley.
No,Ben,TomKernaninterfered.TheCroppyBoy.OurnativeDoric.
Aydo,Ben,MrDedalussaid.Goodmenandtrue.
Do,do,theybeggedinone.
I'llgo.Here,Pat,return.Come.Hecame,hecame,hedidnotstay.Tome.Howmuch?
Whatkey?Sixsharps?
Fsharpmajor,BenDollardsaid.
BobCowley'soutstretchedtalonsgripedtheblackdeepsoundingchords.
Must go prince Bloom told Richie prince. No, Richie said. Yes, must. Got money
somewhere.He'sonforarazzlebackachespree.Much?Heseehearslipspeech.Oneandnine.
Pennyforyourself.Here.Givehimtwopencetip.Deaf,bothered.Butperhapshehaswifeand
familywaiting,waitingPattycomehome.Heeheeheehee.Deafwaitwhiletheywait.
Butwait.Buthear.Chordsdark.Lugugugubrious.Low.Inacaveofthedarkmiddleearth.
Embeddedore.Lumpmusic.
The voice of dark age, of unlove, earth's fatigue made grave approach and painful,come
from afar, from hoary mountains, called on good men and true. The priest he sought. With
himwouldhespeakaword.
Tap.
BenDollard'svoice.Basebarreltone.Doinghislevelbesttosayit.Croakofvastmanless
moonless womoonless marsh. Other comedown. Big ships' chandler's business he did once.
Remember:rosinyropes,ships'lanterns.Failed tothetune of tenthousandpounds. Nowin
theIveaghhome.Cubiclenumbersoandso.NumberoneBassdidthatforhim.
Thepriest'sathome.Afalsepriest'sservantbadehimwelcome.Stepin.Theholyfather.
Withbowsatraitorservant.Curlycuesofchords.
Ruin them. Wreck their lives. Then build them cubicles to end their days in. Hushaby.
Lullaby.Die,dog.Littledog,die.
Thevoiceofwarning,solemnwarning,toldthemtheyouthhadenteredalonelyhall,told
them how solemn fell his footsteps there, told them the gloomy chamber, the vested priest
sittingtoshrive.
Decentsoul.Bitaddlednow.Thinkshe'llwininAnswers,poets'picturepuzzle.Wehand
youcrispfivepoundnote.Birdsittinghatchinginanest.Layofthelastminstrelhethoughtit
was.Seeblankteewhatdomesticanimal?Teedasharmostcourageousmariner.Goodvoice
hehasstill.Noeunuchyetwithallhisbelongings.
Listen.Bloomlistened.RichieGouldinglistened.AndbythedoordeafPat,baldPat,tipped
Pat,listened.Thechordsharpedslower.

Thevoiceofpenanceandofgriefcameslow,embellished,tremulous.Ben'scontritebeard
confessed. in nomine Domini, in God's name he knelt. He beat his hand upon his breast,
confessing:meaculpa.
Latin again. That holds them like birdlime. Priest with the communion corpus for those
women.Chapinthemortuary,coffinorcoffey,corpusnomine.Wonder where that ratisby
now.Scrape.
Tap.
They listened. Tankards and miss Kennedy. George Lidwell, eyelid well expressive,
fullbustedsatin.Kernan.Si.
The sighing voice of sorrow sang. His sins. Since Easter he had cursed three times. You
bitch'sbast.Andonceatmasstimehehadgonetoplay.Oncebythechurchyardhehadpassed
andforhismother'sresthehadnotprayed.Aboy.Acroppyboy.
Bronze,listening,bythebeerpullgazedfaraway.Soulfully.Doesn'thalfknowI'm.Molly
greatdabatseeinganyonelooking.
Bronzegazedfarsideways.Mirrorthere.Isthatbestsideofherface?Theyalwaysknow.
Knockatthedoor.Lasttiptotitivate.
Cockcarracarra.
Whatdotheythinkwhentheyhearmusic?Waytocatchrattlesnakes.NightMichaelGunn
gaveusthebox.Tuningup.ShahofPersialikedthatbest.Remindhimofhomesweethome.
Wipedhisnoseincurtaintoo.Customhiscountryperhaps.That'smusictoo.Notasbadasit
sounds.Tootling.Brasses braying asses through uptrunks. Doublebasses helpless, gashes in
theirsides.Woodwindsmooingcows.Semigrandopencrocodilemusichathjaws.Woodwind
likeGoodwin'sname.
Shelookedfine.Hercrocusdresssheworelowcut,belongingsonshow.Cloveherbreath
was always in theatre when she bent to ask a question. Told her what Spinoza says in that
book of poor papa's. Hypnotised, listening. Eyes like that. She bent. Chap in dresscircle
staringdownintoherwithhisoperaglassforallhewasworth.Beautyofmusicyoumusthear
twice.Naturewomanhalfalook.Godmadethecountrymanthetune.Methimpikehoses.
Philosophy.Orocks!
All gone. All fallen. At the siege of Ross his father, at Gorey all his brothers fell. To
Wexford,wearetheboysofWexford,hewould.Lastofhisnameandrace.
Itoo.Lastofmyrace.Millyyoungstudent.Well,myfaultperhaps.Noson.Rudy.Toolate
now.Orifnot?Ifnot?Ifstill?
Heborenohate.
Hate. Love. Those are names. Rudy. Soon I am old. Big Ben his voice unfolded. Great
voiceRichieGouldingsaid,aflushstrugglinginhispale,toBloomsoonold.Butwhenwas
young?
Irelandcomesnow.Mycountryabovetheking.Shelistens.Whofearstospeakofnineteen
four?Timetobeshoving.Lookedenough.
Blessme,father,Dollardthecroppycried.Blessmeandletmego.
Tap.
Bloomlooked,unblessedtogo.Gotuptokill:oneighteenbobaweek.Fellowsshellout
thedibs.Wanttokeepyourweathereyeopen.Thosegirls,thoselovely.Bythesadseawaves.
Chorusgirl's romance. Letters read out for breach of promise. From Chickabiddy's owny
Mumpsypum.Laughterincourt.Henry.Ineversignedit.Thelovelynameyou.
Lowsankthemusic,airandwords.Thenhastened.Thefalsepriestrustlingsoldierfromhis
cassock.Ayeomancaptain.Theyknowitallbyheart.Thethrilltheyitchfor.Yeomancap.
Tap.Tap.
Thrilledshelistened,bendinginsympathytohear.

Blankface.Virginshouldsay:orfingeredonly.Writesomethingonit:page.Ifnotwhat
becomesofthem?Decline,despair.Keepsthemyoung.Evenadmirethemselves.See.Playon
her. Lip blow. Body of white woman, a flute alive. Blow gentle. Loud. Three holes, all
women. Goddess I didn't see. They want it. Not too much polite. That's why he gets them.
Goldinyour pocket, brass in your face. Say something. Make her hear. With look to look.
Songswithoutwords.Molly,thathurdygurdyboy.Sheknewhemeantthemonkeywassick.
OrbecausesoliketheSpanish.Understandanimalstoothatway.Solomondid.Giftofnature.
Ventriloquise.Mylipsclosed.Thinkinmystom.What?
Will?You?I.Want.You.To.
With hoarse rude fury the yeoman cursed, swelling in apoplectic bitch's bastard. A good
thought,boy,tocome.Onehour'syourtimetolive,yourlast.
Tap.Tap.
Thrillnow.Pitytheyfeel.Towipeawayatearformartyrsthatwantto,dyingto,die.For
allthingsdying,forallthingsborn.PoorMrsPurefoy.Hopeshe'sover.Becausetheirwombs.
A liquid of womb of woman eyeball gazed under a fence of lashes, calmly, hearing. See
real beauty of the eye when she not speaks. On yonder river. At each slow satiny heaving
bosom'swave(herheavingembon)redroseroseslowlysankredrose.Heartbeats:herbreath:
breaththatislife.Andallthetinytinyfernfoilstrembledofmaidenhair.
Butlook.Thebrightstarsfade.Orose!Castile.Themorn.Ha.Lidwell.Forhimthennot
for. Infatuated. I like that? See her from here though. Popped corks, splashes of beerfroth,
stacksofempties.
OnthesmoothjuttingbeerpulllaidLydiahand,lightly,plumply,leaveittomyhands.All
lostinpityforcroppy.Fro,to:to,fro:overthepolishedknob(sheknowshiseyes,myeyes,
hereyes)herthumbandfingerpassedinpity:passed,reposedand,gentlytouching,thenslid
sosmoothly, slowly down, a cool firm white enamel baton protruding through their sliding
ring.
Withacockwithacarra.
Tap.Tap.Tap.
Iholdthishouse.Amen.Hegnashedinfury.Traitorsswing.
Thechordsconsented.Verysadthing.Buthadtobe.Getoutbeforetheend.Thanks,that
washeavenly.Where'smyhat.Passbyher.CanleavethatFreeman.LetterIhave.Suppose
she were the? No. Walk, walk, walk. Like Cashel Boylo Connoro Coylo Tisdall Maurice
TisntdallFarrell.Waaaaaaalk.
Well,Imustbe.Areyouoff?Yrfmstbyes.Blmstup.O'erryehighblue.Ow.Bloomstood
up. Soap feeling rather sticky behind. Must have sweated: music. That lotion, remember.
Well,solong.Highgrade.Cardinside.Yes.
BydeafPatinthedoorwaystrainingearBloompassed.
At Geneva barrack that young man died. At Passage was his body laid. Dolor! O, he
dolores!Thevoiceofthemournfulchantercalledtodolorousprayer.
By rose, by satiny bosom, by the fondling hand, by slops, by empties, by popped corks,
greeting in going, past eyes and maidenhair, bronze and faint gold in deepseashadow, went
Bloom,softBloom,IfeelsolonelyBloom.
Tap.Tap.Tap.
Prayforhim,prayedthebassofDollard.Youwhohearinpeace.Breatheaprayer,dropa
tear,goodmen,goodpeople.Hewasthecroppyboy.
Scaring eavesdropping boots croppy bootsboy Bloom in the Ormond hallway heard the
growlsandroarsofbravo,fatbackslapping,theirbootsalltreading,bootsnotthebootsthe
boy.Generalchorusoffforaswilltowashitdown.GladIavoided.
Comeon,Ben,SimonDedaluscried.ByGod,you'reasgoodaseveryouwere.

Better,saidTomginKernan.Mosttrenchantrenditionofthatballad,uponmysouland
honourItis.
Lablache,saidFatherCowley.
BenDollardbulkilycachuchadtowardsthebar,mightilypraisefedandallbigroseate,on
heavyfootedfeet,hisgoutyfingersnakkeringcastagnettesintheair.
BigBenabenDollard.BigBenben.BigBenben.
Rrr.
And deepmoved all, Simon trumping compassion from foghorn nose, all laughing they
broughthimforth,BenDollard,inrightgoodcheer.
You'relookingrubicund,GeorgeLidwellsaid.
MissDoucecomposedherrosetowait.
Ben machree, said Mr Dedalus, clapping Ben's fat back shoulderblade. Fit as a fiddle
onlyhehasalotofadiposetissueconcealedabouthisperson.
Rrrrrrrsss.
Fatofdeath,Simon,BenDollardgrowled.
Richieriftinthelutealonesat:Goulding,Collis,Ward.Uncertainlyhewaited.UnpaidPat
too.
Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.
MissMinaKennedybroughtnearherlipstoearoftankardone.
MrDollard,theymurmuredlow.
Dollard,murmuredtankard.
Tankonebelieved:missKennwhenshe:thatdollhewas:shedoll:thetank.
Hemurmuredthatheknewthename.Thenamewasfamiliartohim,thatistosay.That
wastosayhehadheardthenameof.Dollard,wasit?Dollard,yes.
Yes,herlipssaidmoreloudly,MrDollard.Hesangthatsonglovely,murmuredMina.Mr
Dollard.AndThelastroseofsummerwasalovelysong.Minalovedthatsong.Tankardloved
thesongthatMina.
'Tisthelastroseofsummerdollardleftbloomfeltwindwoundroundinside.
Gassy thing that cider: binding too. Wait. Postoffice near Reuben J's one and eightpence
too.Getshutofit.DodgeroundbyGreekstreet.WishIhadn'tpromisedtomeet.Freerinair.
Music.Getsonyournerves.Beerpull.Herhandthatrocksthecradlerulesthe.BenHowth.
Thatrulestheworld.
Far.Far.Far.Far.
Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.
UpthequaywentLionelleopold,naughtyHenrywithletterforMady,withsweetsofsin
withfrilliesforRaoulwithmethimpikehoseswentPoldyon.
Tapblindwalkedtappingbythetapthecurbstonetapping,tapbytap.
Cowley,hestunshimselfwithit:kindofdrunkenness.Bettergivewayonlyhalfwaythe
way of a man with a maid. Instanceenthusiasts.Allears. Notlose a demisemiquaver.Eyes
shut. Head nodding in time. Dotty. You daren't budge. Thinking strictly prohibited. Always
talkingshop.Fiddlefaddleaboutnotes.
Allakindofattempttotalk.Unpleasantwhenitstopsbecauseyouneverknowexac.Organ
in Gardiner street. Old Glynn fifty quid a year. Queer up there in the cockloft, alone, with
stopsandlocksandkeys.Seatedalldayattheorgan.Maunderonforhours,talkingtohimself
or the other fellow blowing the bellows. Growl angry, then shriek cursing (want to have
waddingorsomethinginhisnodon'tshecried),thenallofasoftsuddenweelittleweelittle
pipywind.
Pwee!Aweelittlewindpipedeeee.InBloom'slittlewee.

Washe?MrDedalussaid,returningwithfetchedpipe.Iwaswithhim this morning at


poorlittlePaddyDignam's...
Ay,theLordhavemercyonhim.
Bythebyethere'satuningforkinthereonthe...
Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.
Thewifehasafinevoice.Orhad.What?Lidwellasked.
O,thatmustbethetuner,LydiasaidtoSimonlionelfirstIsaw,forgot it when he was
here.
Blind he was she told George Lidwell second I saw. And played so exquisitely, treat to
hear.Exquisitecontrast:bronzelid,minagold.
Shout!BenDollardshouted,pouring.Singout!
'lldo!criedFatherCowley.
Rrrrrr.
IfeelIwant...
Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap
Very,MrDedalussaid,staringhardataheadlesssardine.
Underthesandwichbelllayonabierofbreadonelast,onelonely,lastsardineofsummer.
Bloomalone.
Very,hestared.Thelowerregister,forchoice.
Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.
Bloom went by Barry's. Wish I could. Wait. That wonderworker if I had. Twentyfour
solicitorsinthatonehouse.Countedthem.Litigation.Loveoneanother.Pilesofparchment.
MessrsPickandPockethavepowerofattorney.Goulding,Collis,Ward.
Butforexamplethechapthatwallopsthebigdrum.Hisvocation:MickeyRooney'sband.
Wonderhowitfirststruckhim.Sittingathomeafterpig'scheekandcabbagenursingitinthe
armchair. Rehearsing his band part. Pom. Pompedy. Jolly for the wife. Asses' skins. Welt
themthroughlife,thenwallopafterdeath.Pom.Wallop.Seemstobewhatyoucallyashmak
orImeankismet.Fate.
Tap. Tap. A stripling, blind, with a tapping cane came taptaptapping by Daly's window
where a mermaid hair all streaming (but he couldn't see) blew whiffs of a mermaid (blind
couldn't),mermaid,coolestwhiffofall.
Instruments. A blade of grass, shell of her hands, then blow. Even comb and tissuepaper
youcanknockatuneoutof.MollyinhershiftinLombardstreetwest,hairdown.Isuppose
each kind of trade made its own, don't you see? Hunter with a horn. Haw. Have you the?
Cloche.Sonnezla.Shepherdhispipe.Pweelittlewee.Policemanawhistle.Locksandkeys!
Sweep! Four o'clock's all's well! Sleep! All is lost now. Drum? Pompedy. Wait. I know.
Towncrier,bumbailiff.LongJohn.Wakenthedead.Pom.Dignam.Poorlittlenominedomine.
Pom.Itismusic.Imeanofcourseit'sallpompompomverymuchwhattheycalldacapo.
Stillyoucanhear.Aswemarch,wemarchalong,marchalong.Pom.
Imustreally.Fff.NowifIdidthatatabanquet.JustaquestionofcustomshahofPersia.
Breatheaprayer,dropatear.Allthesamehemusthavebeenabitofanaturalnottoseeit
wasayeomancap.Muffledup.Wonderwhowasthatchapatthegraveinthebrownmacin.
O,thewhoreofthelane!
Afrowsywhorewithblackstrawsailorhataskewcameglazilyinthedayalongthequay
towardsMrBloom.Whenfirsthesawthatformendearing?Yes,itis.Ifeelsolonely.Wet
nightinthelane.Horn.Whohadthe?Heehawshesaw.Offherbeathere.Whatisshe?Hope
she.Psst!Anychanceofyourwash.KnewMolly.Hadmedecked.Stoutladydoesbewith
youinthebrowncostume.Putyouoffyourstroke,that.Appointmentwemadeknowingwe'd
never,wellhardlyever.Toodeartooneartohomesweethome.Seesme,doesshe?Looksa

frightintheday.Facelikedip.Damnher.O,well,shehastoliveliketherest.Lookinhere.
In Lionel Marks's antique saleshop window haughty Henry Lionel Leopold dear Henry
Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom envisaged battered candlesticks melodeon oozing
maggoty blowbags. Bargain: six bob. Might learn to play. Cheap. Let her pass. Course
everythingisdearifyoudon'twantit.That'swhatgoodsalesmanis.Makeyoubuywhathe
wantstosell.ChapsoldmetheSwedishrazorheshavedmewith.Wantedtochargemefor
theedgehegaveit.She'spassingnow.Sixbob.
Mustbetheciderorperhapstheburgund.
Near bronze from anear near gold from afar they chinked their clinking glasses all,
brighteyedandgallant,beforebronzeLydia'stemptinglastroseof summer,rose of Castile.
FirstLid,De,Cow,Ker,Doll,afifth:Lidwell,SiDedalus,BobCowley,KernanandbigBen
Dollard.
Tap.AyouthenteredalonelyOrmondhall.
Bloom viewed a gallant pictured hero in Lionel Marks's window. Robert Emmet's last
words.Sevenlastwords.OfMeyerbeerthatis.
Truemenlikeyoumen.
Ay,ay,Ben.
Willliftyourglasswithus.
Theylifted.
Tschink.Tschunk.
Tip.Anunseeingstriplingstoodinthedoor.Hesawnotbronze.Hesawnotgold.NorBen
norBobnorTomnorSinorGeorgenortanksnorRichienorPat.Heeheeheehee.Hedidnot
see.
Seabloom, greaseabloom viewed last words. Softly. When my country takes her place
among.
Prrprr.
Mustbethebur.
Fff!Oo.Rrpr.
Nationsoftheearth.Noonebehind.She'spassed.Thenandnottillthen.Tramkrankran
kran.Goodoppor.Coming.Krandlkrankran.I'msureit'stheburgund.Yes.One,two.Letmy
epitaphbe.Kraaaaaa.Written.Ihave.
Pprrpffrrppffff.
Done.
IwasjustpassingthetimeofdaywitholdTroyoftheD.M.P.atthecornerofArbourhill
thereandbedamnedbutabloodysweepcamealongandheneardrovehisgearintomyeye.I
turnedaroundtolethimhavetheweightofmytonguewhenwhoshouldIseedodgingalong
StonyBatteronlyJoeHynes.
Lo, Joe, says I. How are you blowing? Did you see that bloody chimneysweep near
shovemyeyeoutwithhisbrush?
Soot'sluck,saysJoe.Who'stheoldballocksyouweretalkingto?
OldTroy,saysI,wasintheforce.I'montwomindsnottogivethatfellowinchargefor
obstructingthethoroughfarewithhisbroomsandladders.
Whatareyoudoingroundthoseparts?saysJoe.
Devilamuch,saysI.There'sabloodybigfoxythiefbeyondbythegarrisonchurchat
the corner of Chicken laneold Troy was just giving me a wrinkle about himlifted any
God's quantity of tea and sugar to pay three bob a week said he had a farm in the county
Down off a hopofmythumb by the name of Moses Herzog over there near Heytesbury
street.

Circumcised?saysJoe.
Ay,saysI.Abitoffthetop.AnoldplumbernamedGeraghty.I'mhangingontohistaw
nowforthepastfortnightandIcan'tgetapennyoutofhim.
Thatthelayyou'reonnow?saysJoe.
Ay,saysI.Howarethemightyfallen!Collectorofbadanddoubtfuldebts.Butthat'sthe
mostnotoriousbloodyrobberyou'dmeetinaday'swalkandthefaceonhimallpockmarks
wouldholdashowerofrain.Tellhim,sayshe,Idarehim,sayshe,andIdoubledarehimto
send you round here again or if he does, says he, I'll have him summonsed up before the
court,soIwill,fortradingwithoutalicence.Andheafterstuffinghimselftillhe'sfittoburst.
Jesus,Ihadtolaughatthelittlejewygettinghisshirtout.Hedrinkmemyteas.Heeatmemy
sugars.Becausehenopaymemymoneys?
FornonperishablegoodsboughtofMosesHerzog,of13SaintKevin'sparadeinthecityof
Dublin,Woodquayward,merchant,hereinaftercalledthevendor,andsoldanddeliveredto
Michael E. Geraghty, esquire, of 29 Arbour hill in the city of Dublin, Arran quay ward,
gentleman,hereinaftercalledthepurchaser,videlicet,fivepoundsavoirdupoisoffirstchoice
teaatthreeshillingsandnopenceperpoundavoirdupoisandthreestoneavoirdupoisofsugar,
crushed crystal, at threepence per pound avoirdupois, the said purchaser debtor to the said
vendor of one pound five shillings and sixpence sterling for value received which amount
shall be paid by said purchaser to said vendor in weekly instalments every seven calendar
days of three shillings and no pence sterling: and the said nonperishable goods shall not be
pawned or pledged or sold or otherwise alienated by the said purchaser but shall be and
remainandbeheldtobethesoleandexclusivepropertyofthesaidvendortobedisposedof
at his good will and pleasure until the said amount shall have been duly paid by the said
purchasertothesaidvendorinthemannerhereinsetforthasthisdayherebyagreedbetween
the said vendor, his heirs, successors, trustees and assigns of the one part and the said
purchaser,hisheirs,successors,trusteesandassignsoftheotherpart.
Areyouastrictt.t.?saysJoe.
Nottakinganythingbetweendrinks,saysI.
Whataboutpayingourrespectstoourfriend?saysJoe.
Who?saysI.Sure,he'soutinJohnofGod'soffhishead,poorman.
Drinkinghisownstuff?saysJoe.
Ay,saysI.Whiskyandwateronthebrain.
ComearoundtoBarneyKiernan's,saysJoe.Iwanttoseethecitizen.
Barneymavourneen'sbeit,saysI.Anythingstrangeorwonderful,Joe?
Notaword,saysJoe.IwasupatthatmeetingintheCityArms.
Whatwasthat,Joe?saysI.
Cattletraders,saysJoe,aboutthefootandmouthdisease.Iwanttogivethecitizenthe
hardwordaboutit.
SowewentaroundbytheLinenhallbarracksandthebackofthecourthousetalkingofone
thingoranother.DecentfellowJoewhenhehasitbutsurelikethatheneverhasit.Jesus,I
couldn't get over that bloody foxy Geraghty, the daylight robber. For trading without a
licence,sayshe.
In Inisfail the fair there lies a land, the land of holy Michan. There rises a watchtower
beheldofmenafar.Theresleepthemightydeadasinlifetheyslept,warriorsandprincesof
highrenown.Apleasantlanditisinsoothofmurmuringwaters,fishfulstreamswheresport
thegurnard,theplaice,theroach,thehalibut,thegibbedhaddock,thegrilse,thedab,thebrill,
theflounder,thepollock,themixedcoarsefishgenerallyandotherdenizensoftheaqueous
kingdomtoonumeroustobeenumerated.Inthemildbreezesofthewestandoftheeastthe
lofty trees wave in different directions their firstclass foliage, the wafty sycamore, the
Lebanonian cedar, the exalted planetree, the eugenic eucalyptus and other ornamentsofthe

arborealworldwithwhichthatregionisthoroughlywellsupplied.Lovelymaidenssitinclose
proximitytotherootsofthelovelytreessingingthemostlovelysongswhiletheyplaywith
all kinds of lovely objects as for example golden ingots, silvery fishes, crans of herrings,
draftsofeels,codlings,creelsoffingerlings,purpleseagemsandplayfulinsects.Andheroes
voyagefromafartowoothem,fromEblanatoSlievemargy,thepeerlessprincesofunfettered
MunsterandofConnachtthejustandofsmoothsleekLeinsterandofCruahan'slandandof
ArmaghthesplendidandofthenobledistrictofBoyle,princes,thesonsofkings.
And there rises a shining palace whose crystal glittering roof is seen by mariners who
traversetheextensiveseainbarksbuiltexpresslyforthatpurpose,andthithercomeallherds
andfatlingsandfirstfruitsofthatlandforO'ConnellFitzsimontakestollofthem,achieftain
descended from chieftains. Thither the extremely large wains bring foison of the fields,
flaskets of cauliflowers, floats of spinach, pineapple chunks, Rangoon beans, strikes of
tomatoes, drums of figs, drills of Swedes, spherical potatoes and tallies of iridescent kale,
York and Savoy, and trays of onions, pearls of the earth, and punnets of mushrooms and
custardmarrowsandfatvetchesandbereandrapeandredgreenyellowbrownrusset sweet
bigbitterripepomellatedapplesandchipsofstrawberriesandsievesofgooseberries,pulpy
andpelurious,andstrawberriesfitforprincesandraspberriesfromtheircanes.
Idarehim,sayshe,andIdoubledarehim.Comeouthere,Geraghty,younotoriousbloody
hillanddalerobber!
And by that way wend the herds innumerable of bellwethers and flushed ewes and
shearlingramsandlambsandstubblegeeseandmediumsteersandroaringmaresandpolled
calvesandlongwoodsandstoresheepandCuffe'sprimespringersandcullsandsowpigsand
baconhogsandthevariousdifferentvarietiesofhighlydistinguishedswineandAngusheifers
and polly bulllocks of immaculate pedigree together with prime premiated milchcows and
beeves: and there is ever heard a trampling, cackling, roaring, lowing, bleating, bellowing,
rumbling, grunting, champing, chewing, of sheep and pigs and heavyhooved kine from
pasturelands of Lusk and Rush and Carrickmines and from the streamy vales of Thomond,
from the M'Gillicuddy's reeks the inaccessible and lordly Shannon the unfathomable, and
from the gentle declivities of the place of the race of Kiar, their udders distended with
superabundance of milk and butts of butter and rennets of cheese and farmer's firkins and
targetsoflambandcrannocksofcornandoblongeggsingreathundreds,variousinsize,the
agatewiththisdun.
SoweturnedintoBarneyKiernan'sandthere,sureenough,wasthecitizenupinthecorner
having a great confab with himself and that bloody mangy mongrel, Garryowen, and he
waitingforwhattheskywoulddropinthewayofdrink.
There he is, says I, in his gloryhole, with his cruiskeen lawn and his load of papers,
workingforthecause.
Thebloodymongrelletagrouseoutofhimwouldgiveyouthecreeps.Beacorporalwork
ofmercyifsomeonewouldtakethelifeofthatbloodydog.I'mtoldforafactheateagood
partofthebreechesoffaconstabularymaninSantrythatcameroundonetimewithablue
paperaboutalicence.
Standanddeliver,sayshe.
That'sallright,citizen,saysJoe.Friendshere.
Pass,friends,sayshe.
Thenherubshishandinhiseyeandsayshe:
What'syouropinionofthetimes?
DoingtherappareeandRoryofthehill.But,begob,Joewasequaltotheoccasion.
Ithinkthemarketsareonarise,sayshe,slidinghishanddownhisfork.
Sobegobthecitizenclapshispawonhiskneeandhesays:
Foreignwarsisthecauseofit.

AndsaysJoe,stickinghisthumbinhispocket:
It'stheRussianswishtotyrannise.
Arrah,giveoveryourbloodycodding,Joe,saysI.I'veathirstonmeIwouldn'tsellfor
halfacrown.
Giveitaname,citizen,saysJoe.
Wineofthecountry,sayshe.
What'syours?saysJoe.
DittoMacAnaspey,saysI.
Threepints,Terry,saysJoe.Andhow'stheoldheart,citizen?sayshe.
Neverbetter,achara,sayshe.WhatGarry?Arewegoingtowin?Eh?
Andwiththathetookthebloodyoldtowserbythescruffoftheneckand,byJesus,henear
throttledhim.
The figure seated on a large boulder at the foot of a round tower was that of a
broadshouldereddeepchestedstronglimbedfrankeyedredhairedfreelyfreckledshaggybearded
widemouthed largenosed longheaded deepvoiced barekneed brawnyhanded hairylegged
ruddyfaced sinewyarmed hero. From shoulder to shoulder he measured several ells and his
rocklike mountainous knees were covered, as was likewise the rest of his body wherever
visible, with a strong growth of tawny prickly hair in hue and toughness similar to the
mountaingorse(UlexEuropeus).Thewidewinged nostrils, fromwhich bristles of the same
tawny hue projected, were of such capaciousness that within their cavernous obscurity the
fieldlarkmighteasilyhavelodgedhernest.Theeyesinwhichatearandasmilestroveever
for the mastery were of the dimensions of a goodsized cauliflower. A powerful current of
warm breath issued at regular intervals from the profound cavity of his mouth while in
rhythmic resonance the loud strong hale reverberations of his formidable heart thundered
rumblinglycausingtheground,thesummitoftheloftytowerandthestillloftierwallsofthe
cavetovibrateandtremble.
He wore a long unsleeved garment of recently flayed oxhide reaching to the knees in a
loosekiltandthiswasboundabouthismiddlebyagirdleofplaitedstrawandrushes.Beneath
thisheworetrewsofdeerskin,roughlystitchedwithgut.Hisnetherextremitieswereencased
inhighBalbrigganbuskinsdyedinlichenpurple,thefeetbeingshodwithbroguesofsalted
cowhidelacedwiththewindpipeofthesamebeast.Fromhisgirdlehungarowofseastones
whichjangledateverymovementofhisportentousframeandontheseweregravenwithrude
yet striking art the tribal images of many Irish heroes and heroines of antiquity, Cuchulin,
Conn of hundred battles, Niall of nine hostages, Brian of Kincora, the ardri Malachi, Art
MacMurragh, Shane O'Neill, Father John Murphy, Owen Roe, Patrick Sarsfield, Red Hugh
O'Donnell, Red Jim MacDermott, Soggarth Eoghan O'Growney, Michael Dwyer, Francy
Higgins,HenryJoyM'Cracken,Goliath,HoraceWheatley,ThomasConneff,PegWoffington,
the Village Blacksmith, Captain Moonlight, Captain Boycott, Dante Alighieri, Christopher
Columbus,S.Fursa,S.Brendan,MarshalMacMahon,Charlemagne,TheobaldWolfeTone,
the Mother of the Maccabees, the Last of the Mohicans, the Rose of Castile, the Man for
Galway, The Man that Broke the Bank at Monte Carlo, The Man in the Gap, The Woman
Who Didn't, Benjamin Franklin, Napoleon Bonaparte, John L. Sullivan, Cleopatra,
Savourneen Deelish, Julius Caesar, Paracelsus, sir Thomas Lipton, William Tell,
Michelangelo Hayes, Muhammad, the Bride of Lammermoor, Peter the Hermit, Peter the
Packer, Dark Rosaleen, Patrick W. Shakespeare, Brian Confucius, Murtagh Gutenberg,
Patricio Velasquez, Captain Nemo, Tristan and Isolde, the first Prince of Wales, Thomas
CookandSon,theBoldSoldierBoy,ArrahnaPogue,DickTurpin,LudwigBeethoven,the
ColleenBawn,WaddlerHealy,AngustheCuldee,DollyMount,SidneyParade,BenHowth,
Valentine Greatrakes, Adam and Eve, Arthur Wellesley, Boss Croker, Herodotus, Jack the
Giantkiller,GautamaBuddha,LadyGodiva,TheLilyofKillarney,BaloroftheEvilEye,the
QueenofSheba,AckyNagle,JoeNagle,AlessandroVolta,JeremiahO'DonovanRossa,Don
Philip O'Sullivan Beare. A couched spear of acuminated granite rested by him while at his

feetreposedasavageanimalofthecaninetribewhosestertorousgaspsannouncedthathewas
sunkinuneasyslumber,asuppositionconfirmedbyhoarsegrowlsandspasmodicmovements
whichhismasterrepressedfromtimetotimebytranquilisingblowsofamightycudgelrudely
fashionedoutofpaleolithicstone.
SoanyhowTerrybroughtthethreepintsJoewasstandingandbegobthesightnearlyleft
my eyes when I saw him land out a quid O, as true as I'm telling you. A goodlooking
sovereign.
Andthere'smorewherethatcamefrom,sayshe.
Wereyourobbingthepoorbox,Joe?saysI.
Sweatofmybrow,saysJoe.'Twastheprudentmembergavemethewheeze.
IsawhimbeforeImetyou,saysI,slopingaroundbyPilllaneandGreekstreetwithhis
cod'seyecountingupallthegutsofthefish.
WhocomesthroughMichan'sland,bedightinsablearmour?O'Bloom,thesonofRory:it
ishe.ImpervioustofearisRory'sson:heoftheprudentsoul.
For the old woman of Prince's street, says the citizen, the subsidised organ. The
pledgebound party on the floor of the house. And look at this blasted rag, says he. Look at
this,sayshe.TheIrishIndependent,ifyouplease,foundedbyParnelltobetheworkingman's
friend.ListentothebirthsanddeathsintheIrishallforIrelandIndependent, and I'll thank
youandthemarriages.
Andhestartsreadingthemout:
Gordon,Barnfieldcrescent,ExeterRedmayneofIffley,SaintAnne'sonSea:thewifeof
WilliamTRedmayneofason.How'sthat,eh?WrightandFlint,VincentandGilletttoRotha
Marion daughter of Rosa and the late George Alfred Gillett, 179 Clapham road, Stockwell,
PlaywoodandRidsdaleatSaintJude's,KensingtonbytheveryreverendDrForrest,deanof
Worcester. Eh? Deaths. Bristow, at Whitehall lane, London: Carr, Stoke Newington, of
gastritisandheartdisease:Cockburn,attheMoathouse,Chepstow...
Iknowthatfellow,saysJoe,frombitterexperience.
Cockburn.Dimsey,wifeofDavidDimsey,lateoftheadmiralty:Miller,Tottenham,aged
eightyfive:Welsh,June12,at35Canningstreet,Liverpool,IsabellaHelen.How'sthatfora
nationalpress,eh,mybrownson!How'sthatforMartinMurphy,theBantryjobber?
Ah,well,saysJoe,handingroundtheboose.ThanksbetoGodtheyhadthestartofus.
Drinkthat,citizen.
Iwill,sayshe,honourableperson.
Health,Joe,saysI.Andalldowntheform.
Ah!Ow!Don'tbetalking!Iwasbluemouldyforthewantofthatpint.Declare to God I
couldhearithitthepitofmystomachwithaclick.
Andlo,astheyquaffedtheircupofjoy,agodlikemessengercameswiftlyin,radiantasthe
eye of heaven, a comely youth and behind him there passed an elder of noble gait and
countenance,bearingthesacredscrollsoflawandwithhimhisladywifeadameofpeerless
lineage,fairestofherrace.
LittleAlfBerganpoppedinroundthedoorandhidbehindBarney'ssnug,squeezedupwith
thelaughing.AndwhowassittingupthereinthecornerthatIhadn'tseensnoringdrunkblind
totheworldonlyBobDoran.Ididn'tknowwhatwasupandAlfkeptmakingsignsoutofthe
door.AndbegobwhatwasitonlythatbloodyoldpantaloonDenisBreeninhisbathslippers
withtwobloodybigbookstuckedunderhisoxterandthewifehotfootafterhim,unfortunate
wretchedwoman,trottinglikeapoodle.IthoughtAlfwouldsplit.
Look at him, says he. Breen. He's traipsing all round Dublin with a postcard someone
senthimwithU.p:uponittotakeali...
Andhedoubledup.
Takeawhat?saysI.

Libelaction,sayshe,fortenthousandpounds.
Ohell!saysI.
Thebloodymongrelbegantogrowlthat'dputthefearofGodinyouseeingsomethingwas
upbutthecitizengavehimakickintheribs.
Biidhohusht,sayshe.
Who?saysJoe.
Breen,saysAlf.HewasinJohnHenryMenton'sandthenhewentroundtoCollisand
Ward'sandthenTomRochfordmethimandsenthimroundtothesubsheriff'sforalark.O
God,I'veapainlaughing.U.p:up.Thelongfellowgavehimaneyeasgoodasaprocessand
nowthebloodyoldlunaticisgoneroundtoGreenstreettolookforaGman.
WhenislongJohngoingtohangthatfellowinMountjoy?saysJoe.
Bergan,saysBobDoran,wakingup.IsthatAlfBergan?
Yes,saysAlf.Hanging?WaittillIshowyou.Here,Terry,giveusapony.Thatbloody
oldfool!Tenthousandpounds.YoushouldhaveseenlongJohn'seye.U.p...
Andhestartedlaughing.
Whoareyoulaughingat?saysBobDoran.IsthatBergan?
Hurryup,Terryboy,saysAlf.
Terence O'Ryan heard him and straightway brought him a crystal cup full of the foamy
ebon ale which the noble twin brothers Bungiveagh and Bungardilaun brew ever in their
divinealevats,cunningasthesonsofdeathlessLeda.Fortheygarnerthesucculentberriesof
thehopandmassandsiftandbruiseandbrewthemandtheymixtherewithsourjuicesand
bring the must to the sacred fire and cease not night or day from their toil, those cunning
brothers,lordsofthevat.
Then did you, chivalrous Terence, hand forth, as to the manner born, that nectarous
beverageandyouofferedthecrystalcuptohimthatthirsted,thesoulofchivalry,inbeauty
akintotheimmortals.
Buthe,theyoungchiefoftheO'Bergan's,couldillbrooktobeoutdoneingenerousdeeds
but gave therefor with gracious gesture a testoon of costliest bronze. Thereon embossed in
excellent smithwork was seen the image of a queen of regal port, scion of the house of
Brunswick,Victoriaher name, Her Most Excellent Majesty, by grace of God of the United
Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland and of the British dominions beyond the sea, queen,
defenderofthefaith,EmpressofIndia,evenshe,whoborerule,avictressovermanypeoples,
the wellbeloved, for they knew and loved her from the rising of the sun to the going down
thereof,thepale,thedark,theruddyandtheethiop.
What'sthatbloodyfreemasondoing,saysthecitizen,prowlingupanddownoutside?
What'sthat?saysJoe.
Here you are, says Alf, chucking out the rhino. Talking about hanging, I'll show you
somethingyouneversaw.Hangmen'sletters.Lookathere.
Sohetookabundleofwispsoflettersandenvelopesoutofhispocket.
Areyoucodding?saysI.
Honestinjun,saysAlf.Readthem.
SoJoetookuptheletters.
Whoareyoulaughingat?saysBobDoran.
SoIsawtherewasgoingtobeabitofadustBob'saqueerchapwhentheporter'supin
himsosaysIjusttomaketalk:
How'sWillyMurraythosetimes,Alf?
Idon'tknow,saysAlfIsawhimjustnowinCapelstreetwithPaddyDignam.OnlyIwas
runningafterthat...

Youwhat?saysJoe,throwingdowntheletters.Withwho?
WithDignam,saysAlf.
IsitPaddy?saysJoe.
Yes,saysAlf.Why?
Don'tyouknowhe'sdead?saysJoe.
PaddyDignamdead!saysAlf.
Ay,saysJoe.
SureI'mafterseeinghimnotfiveminutesago,saysAlf,asplainasapikestaff.
Who'sdead?saysBobDoran.
Yousawhisghostthen,saysJoe,Godbetweenusandharm.
What?saysAlf.GoodChrist,onlyfive...What?...AndWillyMurraywithhim,thetwo
ofthemtherenearwhatdoyoucallhim's...What?Dignamdead?
WhataboutDignam?saysBobDoran.Who'stalkingabout...?
Dead!saysAlf.He'snomoredeadthanyouare.
Maybeso,saysJoe.Theytookthelibertyofburyinghimthismorninganyhow.
Paddy?saysAlf.
Ay,saysJoe.Hepaidthedebtofnature,Godbemercifultohim.
GoodChrist!saysAlf.
Begobhewaswhatyoumightcallflabbergasted.
Inthedarknessspirithandswerefelttoflutterandwhenprayerbytantrashadbeendirected
totheproperquarterafaintbutincreasingluminosityofrubylightbecamegraduallyvisible,
theapparitionoftheethericdoublebeingparticularlylifelikeowingtothedischargeofjivic
raysfromthecrownoftheheadandface.Communicationwaseffectedthroughthepituitary
bodyandalsobymeansoftheorangefieryandscarletraysemanatingfromthesacralregion
andsolarplexus.Questionedbyhisearthnameastohiswhereaboutsintheheavenworldhe
statedthathewasnowonthepathofprlyaorreturnbutwasstillsubmittedtotrialatthe
handsofcertainbloodthirstyentitiesonthelowerastrallevels.Inreplytoaquestionastohis
firstsensationsinthegreatdividebeyondhestatedthatpreviouslyhehadseenasinaglass
darkly but that those who had passed over had summit possibilities of atmic development
openeduptothem.Interrogatedastowhetherlifethereresembledourexperienceintheflesh
hestatedthathehadheardfrommorefavouredbeingsnowinthespiritthattheirabodeswere
equippedwith every modern home comfort such as talafana, alavatar, hatakalda, wataklasat
andthatthehighestadeptsweresteepedinwavesofvolupcyoftheverypurestnature.Having
requestedaquartofbuttermilkthiswasbroughtandevidentlyaffordedrelief.Askedifhehad
any message for the living he exhorted all who were still at the wrong side of Maya to
acknowledgethetruepathforitwasreportedindevaniccirclesthatMarsandJupiterwereout
formischiefontheeasternanglewheretheramhaspower.Itwasthenqueriedwhetherthere
wereanyspecialdesiresonthepartofthedefunctandthereplywas:Wegreetyou,friendsof
earth, who are still in the body. Mind C. K. doesn't pile it on. It was ascertained that the
reference was to Mr Cornelius Kelleher, manager of Messrs H. J. O'Neill's popular funeral
establishment,apersonalfriendofthedefunct,whohadbeenresponsibleforthecarryingout
oftheintermentarrangements.Beforedepartingherequestedthatitshouldbetoldtohisdear
son Patsy that the other boot which he had been looking for was at present under the
commodeinthereturnroomandthatthepairshouldbesenttoCullen'stobesoledonlyasthe
heelswerestillgood.Hestatedthatthishadgreatlyperturbedhispeaceofmindintheother
regionandearnestlyrequestedthathisdesireshouldbemadeknown.
Assurancesweregiventhatthematterwouldbeattendedtoanditwasintimatedthatthis
hadgivensatisfaction.
Heisgonefrommortalhaunts:O'Dignam,sunofourmorning.Fleetwashisfootonthe
bracken:Patrickofthebeamybrow.Wail,Banba,withyourwind:andwail,Oocean,with

yourwhirlwind.
Thereheisagain,saysthecitizen,staringout.
Who?saysI.
Bloom,sayshe.He'sonpointdutyupanddownthereforthelasttenminutes.
And,begob,Isawhisphysogdoapeepinandthenslidderoffagain.
LittleAlfwasknockedbawways.Faith,hewas.
GoodChrist!sayshe.Icouldhaveswornitwashim.
And says Bob Doran, with the hat on the back of his poll, lowest blackguard in Dublin
whenhe'sundertheinfluence:
WhosaidChristisgood?
Ibegyourparsnips,saysAlf.
IsthatagoodChrist,saysBobDoran,totakeawaypoorlittleWillyDignam?
Ah,well,saysAlf,tryingtopassitoff.He'soverallhistroubles.
ButBobDoranshoutsoutofhim.
He'sabloodyruffian,Isay,totakeawaypoorlittleWillyDignam.
Terrycamedownandtippedhimthewinktokeepquiet,thattheydidn'twantthatkindof
talkinarespectablelicensedpremises.AndBobDoranstarts doing theweeps about Paddy
Dignam,trueasyou'rethere.
Thefinestman,sayshe,snivelling,thefinestpurestcharacter.
Thetearisbloodynearyoureye.Talkingthroughhisbloodyhat.Fitterforhimgohometo
thelittlesleepwalkingbitchhemarried,Mooney,thebumbailiff'sdaughter,motherkeptakip
inHardwickestreet,thatusedtobestravagingaboutthelandingsBantamLyonstoldmethat
wasstoppingthereattwointhemorningwithoutastitchonher,exposingherperson,opento
allcomers,fairfieldandnofavour.
The noblest, the truest, says he. And he's gone, poor little Willy, poor little Paddy
Dignam.
Andmournfulandwithaheavyhearthebewepttheextinctionofthatbeamofheaven.
OldGarryowenstartedgrowlingagainatBloomthatwasskeezingroundthedoor.
Comein,comeon,hewon'teatyou,saysthecitizen.
So Bloom slopes in with his cod's eye on the dog and he asks Terry was Martin
Cunninghamthere.
O,ChristM'Keown,saysJoe,readingoneoftheletters.Listentothis,willyou?
Andhestartsreadingoutone.
7HunterStreet,Liverpool.TotheHighSheriffofDublin,Dublin.
Honouredsiribegtooffermyservicesintheabovementionedpainfulcase i hanged Joe
GanninBootlejailonthe12ofFebuary1900andihanged...
Showus,Joe,saysI.
...privateArthurChaceforfowlmurderofJessieTilsitinPentonvilleprisonandiwas
assistantwhen...
Jesus,saysI.
...BillingtonexecutedtheawfulmurdererToadSmith...
Thecitizenmadeagrabattheletter.
Holdhard,saysJoe,ihaveaspecialnackofputtingthenooseonceinhecan'tgetout
hopingtobefavourediremain,honouredsir,mytermsisfiveginnees.
H.RUMBOLD,MASTERBARBER.
Andabarbarousbloodybarbarianheistoo,saysthecitizen.

Andthedirtyscrawlofthewretch,saysJoe.Here,sayshe,takethemtohelloutofmy
sight,Alf.Hello,Bloom,sayshe,whatwillyouhave?
So they started arguing about the point, Bloom saying he wouldn't and he couldn't and
excusehimnooffenceandalltothatandthenhesaidwellhe'djusttakeacigar.Gob,he'sa
prudentmemberandnomistake.
Giveusoneofyourprimestinkers,Terry,saysJoe.
And Alf was telling us there was one chap sent in a mourning card with a black border
roundit.
They'reallbarbers,sayshe,fromtheblackcountrythatwouldhangtheirownfathersfor
fivequiddownandtravellingexpenses.
And he was telling us there's two fellows waiting below to pull his heels down when he
getsthedropandchokehimproperlyandthentheychopuptheropeafterandsellthebitsfor
afewbobaskull.
Inthedarklandtheybide,thevengefulknightsoftherazor.Theirdeadlycoiltheygrasp:
yea,andthereintheyleadtoErebuswhatsoeverwighthathdoneadeedofbloodforIwillon
nowisesufferitevensosaiththeLord.
SotheystartedtalkingaboutcapitalpunishmentandofcourseBloomcomesoutwiththe
whyandthewhereforeandallthecodologyofthebusinessandtheolddogsmellinghimall
the time I'm told those jewies does have a sort of a queer odour coming off them for dogs
aboutIdon'tknowwhatalldeterrenteffectandsoforthandsoon.
There'sonethingithasn'tadeterrenteffecton,saysAlf.
What'sthat?saysJoe.
Thepoorbugger'stoolthat'sbeinghanged,saysAlf.
Thatso?saysJoe.
God'struth,saysAlf.Iheardthatfromtheheadwarderthatwasin
Kilmainham when they hanged Joe Brady, the invincible. He told me when theycuthim
downafterthedropitwasstandingupintheirfaceslikeapoker.
Rulingpassionstrongindeath,saysJoe,assomeonesaid.
Thatcanbeexplainedbyscience,saysBloom.It'sonlyanaturalphenomenon,don'tyou
see,becauseonaccountofthe...
And then he starts with his jawbreakers about phenomenon and science and this
phenomenonandtheotherphenomenon.
ThedistinguishedscientistHerrProfessorLuitpoldBlumendufttenderedmedicalevidence
totheeffectthattheinstantaneousfractureofthecervicalvertebraeandconsequentscission
of the spinal cord would, according to the best approved tradition of medical science, be
calculated to inevitably produce in the human subject a violent ganglionic stimulus of the
nerve centres of the genital apparatus, thereby causing the elastic pores of the corpora
cavernosatorapidlydilateinsuchawayastoinstantaneouslyfacilitatetheflowofbloodto
that part of the human anatomy known as the penis or male organ resulting in the
phenomenon which has been denominated by the faculty a morbid upwards and outwards
philoprogenitiveerectioninarticulomortisperdiminutionemcapitis.
Soofcoursethecitizenwasonlywaitingforthewinkofthewordandhestartsgassingout
of him about the invincibles and the old guard and the men of sixtyseven and who fears to
speak of ninetyeight and Joe with him about all the fellows that were hanged, drawn and
transportedforthecausebydrumheadcourtmartialandanewIrelandandnewthis,thatand
theother.TalkingaboutnewIrelandheoughttogoandgetanewdogsoheought.Mangy
ravenousbrutesniffingandsneezingallroundtheplaceandscratchinghisscabs.Andround
hegoestoBobDoranthatwasstandingAlfahalfonesuckingupforwhathecouldget.Soof
courseBobDoranstartsdoingthebloodyfoolwithhim:
Giveusthepaw!Givethepaw,doggy!Goodolddoggy!Givethepawhere!Giveusthe

paw!
Arrah,bloodyendtothepawhe'dpawandAlftryingtokeephimfromtumblingoffthe
bloodystoolatopofthebloodyolddogandhetalkingall kinds of drivel about training by
kindnessandthoroughbreddogandintelligent dog: give you the bloody pip. Then he starts
scrapingafewbitsofoldbiscuitoutofthebottomofaJacobs'tinhetoldTerrytobring.Gob,
hegollopeditdownlikeoldbootsandhistonguehangingoutofhimayardlongformore.
Nearatethetinandall,hungrybloodymongrel.
AndthecitizenandBloomhavinganargumentaboutthepoint,thebrothersSheares and
WolfeTonebeyondonArbourHillandRobertEmmetanddieforyourcountry,theTommy
MooretouchaboutSaraCurranandshe'sfarfromtheland.AndBloom,ofcourse,withhis
knockmedown cigar putting on swank with his lardy face. Phenomenon! The fat heap he
marriedisaniceoldphenomenonwithabackonherlikeaballalley.Timetheywerestopping
up in the City Arms pisser Burke told me there was an old one there with a cracked
loodheramaunofanephewandBloomtryingtogetthesoftsideofherdoingthemollycoddle
playing bzique to come in for a bit of the wampum in her will and not eating meat of a
Fridaybecausetheoldonewasalwaysthumpinghercrawandtakingtheloutoutforawalk.
AndonetimeheledhimtheroundsofDublinand,bytheholyfarmer,henevercriedcrack
tillhebroughthimhomeasdrunkasaboiledowlandhesaidhedidittoteachhimtheevils
ofalcoholandbyherrings,ifthethreewomendidn'tnearroasthim,it'saqueerstory,theold
one,Bloom'swifeandMrsO'Dowdthatkeptthehotel.Jesus,IhadtolaughatpisserBurke
takingthemoffchewingthefat.AndBloomwithhisbutdon'tyousee?andbutontheother
hand.Andsure,morebetoken,theloutI'mtoldwasinPower'safter,theblender's,roundin
Copestreetgoinghomefootlessinacabfivetimesintheweekafterdrinkinghiswaythrough
allthesamplesinthebloodyestablishment.Phenomenon!
Thememoryofthedead,saysthecitizentakinguphispintglassandglaringatBloom.
Ay,ay,saysJoe.
Youdon'tgraspmypoint,saysBloom.WhatImeanis...
SinnFein!saysthecitizen.SinnFeinamhain!Thefriendswelovearebyoursideand
thefoeswehatebeforeus.
Thelastfarewellwasaffectingintheextreme.Fromthebelfriesfarandnearthefunereal
deathbell tolled unceasingly while all around the gloomy precincts rolled the ominous
warning of a hundred muffled drums punctuated by the hollow booming of pieces of
ordnance.The deafening claps ofthunder and the dazzling flashes of lightning which lit up
the ghastly scene testified that the artillery of heaven had lent its supernatural pomp to the
alreadygruesomespectacle.Atorrentialrainpoureddownfromthe floodgates of the angry
heavens upon the bared heads of the assembled multitude which numbered at the lowest
computation five hundred thousand persons. A posse of Dublin Metropolitan police
superintendedbytheChiefCommissioner in person maintained order in the vast throng for
whom the York street brass and reed band whiled away the intervening time by admirably
rendering on their blackdraped instruments the matchless melody endeared to us from the
cradle by Speranza's plaintive muse. Special quick excursion trains and upholstered
charabancs had been provided for the comfort of our country cousins of whom there were
largecontingents.ConsiderableamusementwascausedbythefavouriteDublinstreetsingers
Lnhn and Mllgn who sang The Night before Larry was stretched in their usual mirth
provokingfashion.Ourtwoinimitabledrollsdidaroaringtradewiththeirbroadsheetsamong
lovers of the comedy element and nobody who has a corner in his heart for real Irish fun
without vulgarity will grudge them their hardearned pennies. The children of the Male and
FemaleFoundlingHospitalwhothrongedthewindowsoverlookingthesceneweredelighted
with this unexpected addition to the day's entertainment and a word of praise is due to the
Little Sisters of the Poor for their excellent idea of affording the poor fatherless and
motherless children a genuinely instructive treat. The viceregal houseparty which included
many wellknown ladies was chaperoned by Their Excellencies to the most favourable

positionsonthegrandstandwhilethepicturesqueforeigndelegationknownastheFriendsof
theEmeraldIslewasaccommodatedonatribunedirectlyopposite.Thedelegation,presentin
full force, consisted of Commendatore Bacibaci Beninobenone (the semiparalyseddoyen of
thepartywhohadtobeassistedtohisseatbytheaidofapowerfulsteamcrane),Monsieur
Pierrepaul Petitpatant, the Grandjoker Vladinmire Pokethankertscheff, the Archjoker
Leopold Rudolph von SchwanzenbadHodenthaler, Countess Marha Virga Kisszony
Putrpesthi, Hiram Y. Bomboost, Count Athanatos Karamelopulos, Ali Baba Backsheesh
RahatLokumEffendi,SenorHidalgoCaballeroDonPecadilloyPalabrasyPaternosterdela
MaloradelaMalaria,HokopokoHarakiri,HiHungChang,OlafKobberkeddelsen,Mynheer
TrikvanTrumps,PanPoleaxePaddyrisky,GoosepondPrhklstrKratchinabritchisitch,Borus
Hupinkoff,
Herr
Hurhausdirektorpresident
Hans
ChuechliSteuerli,
Nationalgymnasiummuseumsanatoriumandsuspensoriumsordinaryprivatdocent

generalhistoryspecialprofessordoctor Kriegfried Ueberallgemein. All the delegates without


exceptionexpressedthemselvesinthestrongestpossibleheterogeneoustermsconcerningthe
namelessbarbaritywhichtheyhadbeencalledupontowitness.Ananimatedaltercation(in
whichalltookpart)ensuedamongtheF.O.T.E.I.astowhethertheeighthortheninthof
MarchwasthecorrectdateofthebirthofIreland'spatronsaint.Inthecourseoftheargument
cannonballs, scimitars, boomerangs, blunderbusses, stinkpots, meatchoppers, umbrellas,
catapults,knuckledusters,sandbags,lumpsofpigironwereresortedtoandblowswerefreely
exchanged.Thebaby policeman, Constable MacFadden, summoned by special courier from
Booterstown,quicklyrestoredorderandwithlightningpromptitudeproposedtheseventeenth
of the month as a solution equally honourable for both contending parties. The readywitted
ninefooter's suggestion at once appealed to all and was unanimously accepted. Constable
MacFaddenwasheartilycongratulatedbyalltheF.O.T.E.I.,severalofwhomwerebleeding
profusely. Commendatore Beninobenone having been extricated from underneath the
presidential armchair, it was explained by his legal adviser Avvocato Pagamimi that the
variousarticlessecretedinhisthirtytwopocketshadbeenabstractedbyhimduringtheaffray
fromthepockets of his junior colleagues in the hope of bringing them to their senses. The
objects(whichincludedseveralhundredladies'andgentlemen'sgoldandsilverwatches)were
promptlyrestoredtotheirrightfulownersandgeneralharmonyreignedsupreme.
Quietly,unassuminglyRumboldsteppedontothescaffoldinfaultlessmorningdressand
wearing his favourite flower, the Gladiolus Cruentus. He announced his presence by that
gentle Rumboldian cough which so many have tried (unsuccessfully) to imitateshort,
painstaking yet withal so characteristic of the man. The arrival of the worldrenowned
headsmanwasgreetedbyaroarofacclamationfromthehugeconcourse,theviceregalladies
waving their handkerchiefs in their excitement while the even more excitable foreign
delegatescheeredvociferouslyinamedleyofcries,hoch,banzai,eljen,zivio,chinchin,polla
kronia,hiphip,vive,Allah,amidwhichtheringingevvivaofthedelegateofthelandofsong
(a high double F recalling those piercingly lovely notes with which the eunuch Catalani
beglamouredourgreatgreatgrandmothers)waseasilydistinguishable.Itwasexactlyseventeen
o'clock. The signal for prayer was then promptly given by megaphone and in an instant all
headswerebared,thecommendatore'spatriarchalsombrero,whichhasbeeninthepossession
of his family since the revolution of Rienzi, being removed by his medical adviser in
attendance,DrPippi.Thelearnedprelatewhoadministeredthelastcomfortsofholyreligion
totheheromartyrwhenabouttopaythedeathpenaltykneltinamostchristianspiritinapool
ofrainwater,hiscassockabovehishoaryhead,andoffereduptothethroneofgracefervent
prayersofsupplication.Handbytheblockstoodthegrimfigureoftheexecutioner,hisvisage
beingconcealedinatengallon pot with two circular perforated apertures through which his
eyes glowered furiously. As he awaited the fatal signal he tested the edge of his horrible
weapon by honingitupon his brawny forearm ordecapitated inrapidsuccession aflockof
sheep which had been provided by the admirers of his fell but necessary office. On a
handsome mahogany table near him were neatly arranged the quartering knife, the various
finely tempered disembowelling appliances (specially supplied by the worldfamous firm of
cutlers,MessrsJohnRoundandSons,Sheffield),aterracottasaucepanforthereceptionof

the duodenum, colon, blind intestine and appendix etc when successfully extracted and two
commodious milkjugs destined to receive the most precious blood of the most precious
victim. The housesteward of the amalgamated cats' and dogs' home was in attendance to
conveythesevesselswhenreplenishedtothatbeneficentinstitution.Quiteanexcellentrepast
consistingofrashersandeggs,friedsteakandonions,donetoanicety,delicioushotbreakfast
rolls and invigorating tea had been considerately provided by the authorities for the
consumptionofthecentralfigureofthetragedywhowasincapitalspiritswhenpreparedfor
deathandevincedthekeenestinterestintheproceedingsfrombeginningtoendbuthe,with
anabnegationrareintheseourtimes,rosenoblytotheoccasionandexpressedthedyingwish
(immediatelyaccededto)thatthemealshouldbedividedinaliquotpartsamongthemembers
ofthesickandindigentroomkeepers'associationasatokenofhisregardandesteem.Thenec
and non plus ultra of emotion were reached when the blushing bride elect burst her way
throughtheserriedranksofthebystandersandflungherselfuponthemuscularbosomofhim
whowasabouttobelaunchedintoeternityforhersake.Theherofoldedherwillowyformin
alovingembracemurmuringfondlySheila,myown.Encouragedbythisuseofherchristian
nameshekissedpassionatelyallthevarioussuitableareasofhispersonwhichthedecencies
of prison garb permitted her ardour to reach. She swore to him as they mingled the salt
streamsoftheirtearsthatshewouldevercherishhismemory,thatshewouldneverforgether
heroboywhowenttohisdeathwithasongonhislipsasifhewerebutgoingtoahurling
match in Clonturk park. She brought back to his recollection the happy days of blissful
childhood together on the banks of Anna Liffey when they had indulged in the innocent
pastimesoftheyoungand,obliviousofthedreadful present, they both laughed heartily, all
thespectators,includingthevenerablepastor,joininginthegeneralmerriment.Thatmonster
audience simply rocked with delight. But anon they were overcome with grief and clasped
theirhandsforthelasttime.Afreshtorrentoftearsburstfromtheirlachrymalductsandthe
vast concourse of people, touched to the inmost core, broke into heartrending sobs, not the
leastaffected being the aged prebendary himself. Big strong men, officers of thepeaceand
genialgiantsoftheroyalIrishconstabulary,weremakingfrankuseoftheirhandkerchiefsand
it is safe to say that there was not a dry eye in that record assemblage. A most romantic
incidentoccurredwhen a handsome young Oxford graduate, noted for his chivalry towards
thefairsex,steppedforwardand,presentinghisvisitingcard,bankbookandgenealogicaltree,
solicitedthehandofthehaplessyounglady,requestinghertonametheday,andwasaccepted
onthespot.Everyladyintheaudiencewaspresentedwithatastefulsouveniroftheoccasion
intheshapeofaskullandcrossbonesbrooch,atimelyandgenerousactwhichevokedafresh
outburstofemotion:andwhenthegallantyoungOxonian(thebearer,bytheway,ofoneof
themosttimehonourednamesinAlbion'shistory)placedonthefingerofhisblushingfiance
an expensive engagement ring with emeralds set in the form of a fourleaved shamrock the
excitement knew no bounds. Nay, even the ster provostmarshal, lieutenantcolonel Tomkin
MaxwellffrenchmullanTomlinson,whopresidedonthe sad occasion, he who had blown a
considerable number of sepoys from the cannonmouth without flinching, could not now
restrainhisnaturalemotion.Withhismailedgauntlethebrushedawayafurtivetearandwas
overheard,bythoseprivilegedburgherswhohappenedtobeinhisimmediateentourage, to
murmurtohimselfinafalteringundertone:
God blimey if she aint a clinker, that there bleeding tart. Blimey it makes me kind of
bleedingcry,straight,itdoes,whenIseeshercauseIthinksofmyoldmashtubwhat'swaiting
formedownLimehouseway.
SothenthecitizenbeginstalkingabouttheIrishlanguageandthecorporationmeetingand
alltothatandtheshoneensthatcan'tspeaktheirownlanguageandJoechippinginbecausehe
stucksomeoneforaquidandBloomputtinginhisoldgoowithhistwopennystumpthathe
cadgedoffofJoeandtalkingabouttheGaelicleagueandtheantitreatingleagueanddrink,
thecurseofIreland.Antitreatingisaboutthesizeofit.Gob,he'dletyoupourallmannerof
drinkdownhisthroattilltheLordwouldcallhimbeforeyou'deverseethefrothofhispint.
And one night I went in with a fellow into one of their musical evenings, song and dance
aboutshecouldgetuponatrussofhayshecouldmyMaureenLayandtherewasafellow

withaBallyhoolyblueribbonbadgespiffingoutofhiminIrishandalotofcolleenbawns
goingaboutwithtemperancebeveragesandsellingmedalsandorangesandlemonadeanda
fewolddrybuns,gob,flahoolaghentertainment,don'tbetalking.IrelandsoberisIrelandfree.
Andthenanoldfellowstartsblowingintohisbagpipesandallthegougersshufflingtheirfeet
tothetunetheoldcowdiedof.Andoneortwoskypilotshavinganeyearoundthattherewas
nogoingsonwiththefemales,hittingbelowthebelt.
So howandever, as I was saying, the old dog seeing the tin was empty starts mousing
aroundbyJoeandme.I'dtrainhimbykindness,soIwould,ifhewasmydog.Givehima
rousingfinekicknowandagainwhereitwouldn'tblindhim.
Afraidhe'llbiteyou?saysthecitizen,jeering.
No,saysI.Buthemighttakemylegforalamppost.
Sohecallstheolddogover.
What'sonyou,Garry?sayshe.
ThenhestartshaulingandmaulingandtalkingtohiminIrishandtheoldtowsergrowling,
lettingontoanswer,likeaduetintheopera.Suchgrowlingyouneverheardastheyletoff
betweenthem.Someonethathasnothingbettertodooughttowritealetterprobonopublico
tothepapersaboutthemuzzlingorderforadogthelikeofthat.Growlingandgrousingand
hiseyeallbloodshotfromthedrouthisinitandthehydrophobiadroppingoutofhisjaws.
Allthosewhoareinterestedinthespreadofhumancultureamongtheloweranimals(and
theirnameislegion)shouldmakeapointofnotmissingthereallymarvellousexhibitionof
cynanthropy given by the famous old Irish red setter wolfdog formerly known by the
sobriquet of Garryowen and recently rechristened by his large circle of friends and
acquaintances Owen Garry. The exhibition, which is the result of years of training by
kindnessandacarefullythoughtoutdietarysystem,comprises,amongotherachievements,the
recitationofverse.Ourgreatestlivingphoneticexpert(wildhorsesshallnotdragitfromus!)
hasleftnostoneunturnedinhiseffortstodelucidateandcomparetheverserecitedandhas
founditbearsastrikingresemblance(theitalicsareours)totherannsofancientCelticbards.
We are not speaking so much of those delightful lovesongs with which the writer who
conceals his identity under the graceful pseudonym of the Little Sweet Branch has
familiarised the bookloving world but rather (as a contributor D. O. C. points out in an
interesting communication published by an evening contemporary) of the harsher and more
personal note which is found in the satirical effusions of the famous Raftery and of Donal
MacConsidinetosaynothingofamoremodernlyristatpresentverymuchinthepubliceye.
Wesubjoinaspecimen which has been rendered into English by an eminent scholar whose
nameforthemomentwearenotatlibertytodisclosethoughwebelievethatourreaderswill
find the topical allusion rather more than an indication. The metrical system of the canine
original, which recalls the intricate alliterative and isosyllabic rules of the Welsh englyn, is
infinitelymorecomplicatedbutwebelieveourreaderswillagreethatthespirithasbeenwell
caught. Perhaps it should be added that the effect is greatly increased if Owen's verse be
spokensomewhatslowlyandindistinctlyinatonesuggestiveofsuppressedrancour.
Thecurseofmycurses
Sevendayseveryday
AndsevendryThursdays
Onyou,BarneyKiernan,
Hasnosupofwater
Tocoolmycourage,
Andmygutsredroaring
AfterLowry'slights.

SohetoldTerrytobringsomewaterforthedogand,gob,youcouldhearhimlappingitup
amileoff.AndJoeaskedhimwouldhehaveanother.
Iwill,sayshe,achara,toshowthere'snoillfeeling.
Gob, he's not as green as he's cabbagelooking. Arsing around from one pub to another,

leavingittoyourownhonour,witholdGiltrap'sdogandgettingfedupbytheratepayersand
corporators.Entertainmentformanandbeast.AndsaysJoe:
Couldyoumakeaholeinanotherpint?
Couldaswimduck?saysI.
Sameagain,Terry,saysJoe.Areyousureyouwon'thaveanythinginthewayofliquid
refreshment?sayshe.
Thank you, no, says Bloom. As a matter of fact I just wanted to meet Martin
Cunningham,don'tyousee,aboutthisinsuranceofpoorDignam's.Martinaskedmetogoto
the house. You see, he, Dignam, I mean, didn't serve any notice of the assignment on the
companyatthetimeandnominallyundertheactthemortgageecan'trecoveronthepolicy.
Holy Wars, says Joe, laughing, that's a good one if old Shylock is landed. So the wife
comesouttopdog,what?
Well,that'sapoint,saysBloom,forthewife'sadmirers.
Whoseadmirers?saysJoe.
Thewife'sadvisers,Imean,saysBloom.
Then he starts all confused mucking it up about mortgagor under the act like the lord
chancellorgivingitoutonthebenchandforthebenefitofthewifeandthatatrustiscreated
but on the other hand that Dignam owed Bridgeman the money and if now the wife or the
widow contested the mortgagee's right till he near had the head of me addled with his
mortgagorundertheact.Hewasbloodysafehewasn'truninhimselfundertheactthattime
asarogueandvagabondonlyhehadafriendincourt.Sellingbazaarticketsorwhatdoyou
callitroyalHungarianprivilegedlottery.Trueasyou'rethere.O,commendmetoanisraelite!
RoyalandprivilegedHungarianrobbery.
SoBobDorancomeslurchingaroundaskingBloomtotellMrsDignamhewassorryfor
hertroubleandhewasverysorryaboutthefuneralandtotellherthathesaidandeveryone
whoknewhimsaidthattherewasneveratruer,afinerthanpoorlittleWillythat'sdeadtotell
her.Chokingwithbloodyfoolery.AndshakingBloom'shanddoingthetragictotellherthat.
Shakehands,brother.You'rearogueandI'manother.
Let me, said he, so far presume upon our acquaintance which, however slight it may
appear if judged by the standard of mere time, is founded, as I hope and believe, on a
sentimentofmutualesteemastorequestofyouthisfavour.But,shouldIhaveoverstepped
thelimitsofreserveletthesincerityofmyfeelingsbetheexcuseformyboldness.
No, rejoined the other, I appreciate to the full the motives which actuate your conduct
andIshalldischargetheofficeyouentrusttomeconsoledbythereflectionthat,thoughthe
errand be one of sorrow, this proof of your confidence sweetens in some measure the
bitternessofthecup.
Thensuffermetotakeyourhand,saidhe.Thegoodnessofyourheart,Ifeelsure,will
dictate to you better than my inadequate words the expressions which are most suitable to
conveyanemotionwhosepoignancy,wereItogiveventtomyfeelings,woulddepriveme
evenofspeech.
Andoffwithhimandouttryingtowalkstraight.Boosedatfiveo'clock.Nighthewasnear
beinglaggedonlyPaddyLeonardknewthebobby,14A.Blindtotheworldupinashebeenin
Bride street after closing time, fornicating with two shawls and a bully on guard, drinking
porter out of teacups. And calling himself a Frenchy for the shawls, Joseph Manuo, and
talking against the Catholic religion, and he serving mass in Adam and Eve's when he was
youngwithhiseyesshut,whowrotethenewtestament,andtheoldtestament,andhugging
andsmugging.Andthetwoshawlskilledwiththelaughing,pickinghispockets,thebloody
foolandhespillingtheporteralloverthebedandthetwoshawlsscreechinglaughingatone
another. How is your testament? Have you got an old testament? Only Paddy was passing
there,Itellyouwhat.ThenseehimofaSundaywithhislittleconcubineofawife,andshe
wagging her tail up the aisle of the chapel with her patent boots on her, no less, and her

violets, nice as pie, doing the little lady. Jack Mooney's sister. And the old prostitute of a
mother procuring rooms to street couples. Gob, Jack made him toe the line. Told him if he
didn'tpatchupthepot,Jesus,he'dkicktheshiteoutofhim.
SoTerrybroughtthethreepints.
Here,saysJoe,doingthehonours.Here,citizen.
Slanleat,sayshe.
Fortune,Joe,saysI.Goodhealth,citizen.
Gob,hehadhismouthhalfwaydownthetumbleralready.Wantasmallfortunetokeep
himindrinks.
Whoisthelongfellowrunningforthemayoralty,Alf?saysJoe.
Friendofyours,saysAlf.
Nannan?saysJoe.Themimber?
Iwon'tmentionanynames,saysAlf.
Ithoughtso,saysJoe.IsawhimupatthatmeetingnowwithWilliamField,M.P.,the
cattletraders.
HairyIopas,saysthecitizen,thatexplodedvolcano,thedarlingofallcountriesandthe
idolofhisown.
SoJoestartstellingthecitizenaboutthefootandmouthdiseaseandthecattletradersand
taking action in the matter and the citizen sending them all to the rightabout and Bloom
coming out with his sheepdip for the scab and a hoose drench for coughing calves and the
guaranteed remedy for timber tongue. Because he was up one time in a knacker's yard.
Walking about with his book and pencil here's my head and my heels are coming till Joe
Cuffegavehimtheorderofthebootforgivingliptoagrazier.MisterKnowall.Teachyour
grandmotherhowtomilkducks.PisserBurkewastellingmeinthehotelthewifeusedtobe
inriversoftearssometimeswithMrsO'Dowdcryinghereyesoutwithhereightinchesoffat
all over her. Couldn't loosen her farting strings but old cod's eye was waltzing around her
showingherhowtodoit.What'syourprogrammetoday?Ay.Humanemethods.Becausethe
pooranimalssufferandexpertssayandthebestknownremedythatdoesn'tcausepaintothe
animalandonthesorespotadministergently.Gob,he'dhaveasofthandunderahen.
GaGaGara.KlookKlookKlook.BlackLizisourhen.Shelayseggsforus.Whenshelays
hereggsheissoglad.Gara.KlookKlookKlook.Thencomesgood uncle Leo. He putshis
handunderblackLizandtakesherfreshegg.GagagagaGara.KlookKlookKlook.
Anyhow,saysJoe,FieldandNannettiaregoingovertonighttoLondontoaskaboutiton
thefloorofthehouseofcommons.
Areyousure,saysBloom,thecouncillorisgoing?Iwantedtoseehim,asithappens.
Well,he'sgoingoffbythemailboat,saysJoe,tonight.
That's too bad, says Bloom. I wanted particularly. Perhaps only Mr Field is going. I
couldn'tphone.No.You'resure?
Nannan'sgoingtoo,saysJoe.Theleaguetoldhimtoaskaquestiontomorrowaboutthe
commissionerofpoliceforbiddingIrishgamesinthepark.Whatdoyouthinkofthat,citizen?
TheSluaghnahEireann.
Mr Cowe Conacre (Multifarnham. Nat.): Arising out of the question of my honourable
friend, the member for Shillelagh, may I ask the right honourable gentleman whether the
government has issued orders that these animals shall be slaughtered though no medical
evidenceisforthcomingastotheirpathologicalcondition?
Mr Allfours (Tamoshant. Con.): Honourable members are already in possession of the
evidence produced before a committee of the whole house. I feel I cannot usefully add
anythingtothat.Theanswertothehonourablemember'squestionisintheaffirmative.
MrOrelliO'Reilly(Montenotte.Nat.):Havesimilarordersbeenissuedfortheslaughterof

humananimalswhodaretoplayIrishgamesinthePhoenixpark?
MrAllfours:Theanswerisinthenegative.
Mr Cowe Conacre: Has the right honourable gentleman's famous Mitchelstown telegram
inspiredthepolicyofgentlemenontheTreasurybench?(O!O!)
MrAllfours:Imusthavenoticeofthatquestion.
MrStaylewit(Buncombe.Ind.):Don'thesitatetoshoot.
(Ironicaloppositioncheers.)
Thespeaker:Order!Order!
(Thehouserises.Cheers.)
There'stheman,saysJoe,thatmadetheGaelicsportsrevival.Thereheissittingthere.
The man that got away James Stephens. The champion of all Ireland at putting the sixteen
poundshot.Whatwasyourbestthrow,citizen?
Nabacleis,saysthecitizen,lettingontobemodest.TherewasatimeIwasasgoodas
thenextfellowanyhow.
Putitthere,citizen,saysJoe.Youwereandabloodysightbetter.
Isthatreallyafact?saysAlf.
Yes,saysBloom.That'swellknown.Didyounotknowthat?
SoofftheystartedaboutIrishsportsandshoneengamesthelikeoflawntennisandabout
hurleyandputtingthestoneandracyofthesoilandbuildingupanationonceagainandallto
that.AndofcourseBloomhadtohavehissaytooaboutifafellowhadarower'sheartviolent
exercisewasbad.Ideclaretomyantimacassarifyoutookupastrawfromthebloody floor
andifyousaidtoBloom:Lookat,Bloom.Doyouseethatstraw?That'sastraw.Declareto
myaunthe'dtalkaboutitforanhoursohewouldandtalksteady.
AmostinterestingdiscussiontookplaceintheancienthallofBrianO'ciarnain'sinSraid
na Bretaine Bheag, under the auspices of Sluagh na hEireann, on the revival of ancient
Gaelic sports and the importance of physical culture, as understood in ancient Greece and
ancientRomeandancientIreland,forthedevelopmentoftherace.Thevenerablepresidentof
the noble order was in the chair and the attendance was of large dimensions. After an
instructive discourse by the chairman, a magnificent oration eloquently and forcibly
expressed, a most interesting and instructive discussion of the usual high standard of
excellenceensuedastothedesirabilityoftherevivabilityoftheancientgamesandsportsof
ourancientPancelticforefathers.Thewellknownandhighlyrespectedworkerinthecauseof
ouroldtongue,MrJosephM'CarthyHynes,madeaneloquentappealfortheresuscitationof
theancientGaelicsportsandpastimes,practisedmorningandeveningbyFinnMacCool,as
calculatedtorevivethebesttraditionsofmanlystrengthandprowesshandeddowntousfrom
ancient ages. L. Bloom, who met with a mixed reception of applause and hisses, having
espousedthenegativethevocalistchairmanbroughtthediscussiontoaclose,inresponseto
repeated requests and hearty plaudits from all parts of a bumper house, by a remarkably
noteworthyrenderingoftheimmortalThomasOsborneDavis'evergreenverses(happilytoo
familiar to need recalling here) A nation once again in the execution of which the veteran
patriot champion may be said without fear of contradiction to have fairly excelled himself.
TheIrishCarusoGaribaldiwasinsuperlativeformandhisstentoriannoteswereheardtothe
greatestadvantageinthetimehonouredanthemsungasonlyourcitizencansingit.Hissuperb
highclass vocalism, which by its superquality greatly enhanced his already international
reputation,wasvociferouslyapplaudedbythelargeaudienceamongwhichweretobenoticed
manyprominentmembersoftheclergyaswellasrepresentativesofthepressandthebarand
theotherlearnedprofessions.Theproceedingsthenterminated.
Amongsttheclergypresentweretheveryrev.WilliamDelany,S.J.,L.L.D.thertrev.
GeraldMolloy,D.D.therev.P.J.Kavanagh,C.S.Sp.therev.T.Waters,C.C.therev.
JohnM.Ivers,P.P.therev.P.J.Cleary,O.S.F.therev.L.J.Hickey,O.P.theveryrev.
Fr.Nicholas,O.S.F.C.theveryrev.B.Gorman,O.D.C.therev.T.Maher,S.J.thevery

rev.JamesMurphy,S.J.therev.JohnLavery,V.F.theveryrev.WilliamDoherty,D.D.
therev.PeterFagan,O.M.therev.T.Brangan,O.S.A.therev.J.Flavin,C.C.therev.M.
A.Hackett,C.C.therev.W.Hurley,C.C.thertrev.MgrM'Manus,V.G.therev.B.R.
Slattery,O.M.I.theveryrev.M.D.Scally,P.P.therev.F.T.Purcell,O.P.theveryrev.
TimothycanonGorman,P.P.therev.J.Flanagan,C.C.ThelaityincludedP.Fay,T.Quirke,
etc.,etc.
Talkingaboutviolentexercise,saysAlf,wereyouatthatKeoghBennettmatch?
No,saysJoe.
IheardSoandSomadeacoolhundredquidoverit,saysAlf.
Who?Blazes?saysJoe.
AndsaysBloom:
WhatImeantabouttennis,forexample,istheagilityandtrainingtheeye.
Ay, Blazes,says Alf. He letout that Myler wasonthe beer torunuptheoddsandhe
swattingallthetime.
Weknowhim,saysthecitizen.Thetraitor'sson.WeknowwhatputEnglishgoldinhis
pocket.
Trueforyou,saysJoe.
AndBloomcutsinagainaboutlawntennisandthecirculationoftheblood,askingAlf:
Now,don'tyouthink,Bergan?
Mylerdustedthefloorwithhim,saysAlf.HeenanandSayerswasonlyabloodyfoolto
it.Handedhimthefatherandmotherofabeating.Seethelittlekippernotuptohisnaveland
thebigfellowswiping.God,hegavehimonelastpuckinthewind,Queensberryrulesandall,
madehimpukewhatheneverate.
ItwasahistoricandaheftybattlewhenMylerandPercywerescheduledtodonthegloves
for the purse of fifty sovereigns. Handicapped as he was by lack of poundage, Dublin's pet
lamb made up for it by superlative skill in ringcraft. The final bout of fireworks was a
gruellingforbothchampions.Thewelterweightsergeantmajorhadtappedsomelivelyclaret
inthe previous mixup during which Keogh had been receivergeneral of rights andlefts,the
artillerymanputtinginsomeneatworkonthepet'snose,andMylercameonlookinggroggy.
Thesoldiergottobusiness,leadingoffwithapowerfulleftjabtowhichtheIrishgladiator
retaliatedbyshootingoutastiffoneflushtothepointofBennett'sjaw.Theredcoatducked
buttheDublinerliftedhimwithalefthook,thebodypunchbeingafineone.Themencame
to handigrips. Myler quickly became busy and got his man under, the bout ending with the
bulkiermanontheropes,Mylerpunishinghim.TheEnglishman,whoserighteyewasnearly
closed, took his corner where he was liberally drenched with water and when the bell went
cameongameyandbrimfulofpluck,confidentofknockingoutthefisticEblaniteinjigtime.
Itwasafighttoafinishandthebestmanforit.Thetwofoughtliketigersandexcitementran
feverhigh.TherefereetwicecautionedPuckingPercyforholdingbutthepetwastrickyand
hisfootworkatreattowatch.Afterabriskexchangeofcourtesiesduringwhichasmartupper
cut of the military man brought blood freely from his opponent's mouth the lamb suddenly
wadedinalloverhismanandlandedaterrificlefttoBattlingBennett'sstomach,flooringhim
flat. It was a knockout clean and clever. Amid tense expectation the Portobello bruiser was
being counted out when Bennett's second Ole Pfotts Wettstein threw in the towel and the
Santry boy was declared victor to the frenzied cheers of the public who broke through the
ringropesandfairlymobbedhimwithdelight.
Heknowswhichsidehisbreadisbuttered,saysAlf.Ihearhe'srunningaconcerttour
nowupinthenorth.
Heis,saysJoe.Isn'the?
Who?saysBloom.Ah,yes.That'squitetrue.Yes,akindofsummertour,yousee.Justa
holiday.

MrsB.isthebrightparticularstar,isn'tshe?saysJoe.
Mywife?saysBloom.She'ssinging,yes.Ithinkitwillbeasuccesstoo.
He'sanexcellentmantoorganise.Excellent.
HohobegobsaysItomyselfsaysI.Thatexplainsthemilkinthecocoanutandabsenceof
hair on the animal's chest. Blazes doing the tootle on the flute. Concert tour. Dirty Dan the
dodger'ssonoffIslandbridgethatsoldthesamehorsestwiceovertothegovernmenttofight
theBoers.OldWhatwhat.Icalledaboutthepoorandwaterrate,MrBoylan.Youwhat?The
water rate, Mr Boylan. You whatwhat? That's the bucko that'll organise her, take my tip.
'TwixtmeandyouCaddareesh.
Pride of Calpe's rocky mount, the ravenhaired daughter of Tweedy. There grew she to
peerless beauty where loquat and almond scent the air. The gardens of Alameda knew her
step:thegarthsofolivesknewandbowed.ThechastespouseofLeopoldisshe:Marionofthe
bountifulbosoms.
And lo, there entered one of the clan of the O'Molloy's, a comely hero of whitefaceyet
withalsomewhatruddy,hismajesty'scounsellearnedinthelaw,andwithhimtheprinceand
heirofthenoblelineofLambert.
Hello,Ned.
Hello,Alf.
Hello,Jack.
Hello,Joe.
Godsaveyou,saysthecitizen.
Saveyoukindly,saysJ.J.What'llitbe,Ned?
Halfone,saysNed.
SoJ.J.orderedthedrinks.
Wereyouroundatthecourt?saysJoe.
Yes,saysJ.J.He'llsquarethat,Ned,sayshe.
Hopeso,saysNed.
Nowwhatwerethosetwoat?J.J.gettinghimoffthegrandjurylistandtheothergivehim
alegoverthestile.WithhisnameinStubbs's.Playingcards,hobnobbingwithflashtoffswith
aswankglassintheireye,adrinkingfizzandhehalfsmotheredinwritsandgarnisheeorders.
PawninghisgoldwatchinCumminsofFrancisstreetwherenoonewouldknowhiminthe
private office when I was there with Pisser releasing his boots out of the pop. What's your
name,sir?Dunne,sayshe.Ay,anddonesaysI.Gob,he'llcomehomebyweepingcrossone
ofthosedays,I'mthinking.
DidyouseethatbloodylunaticBreenroundthere?saysAlf.U.p:up.
Yes,saysJ.J.Lookingforaprivatedetective.
Ay,saysNed.AndhewantedrightgowrongtoaddressthecourtonlyCornyKelleher
gotroundhimtellinghimtogetthehandwritingexaminedfirst.
Ten thousand pounds, says Alf, laughing. God, I'd give anything to hear him before a
judgeandjury.
Wasityoudidit,Alf?saysJoe.Thetruth,thewholetruthandnothingbutthetruth,so
helpyouJimmyJohnson.
Me?saysAlf.Don'tcastyournasturtiumsonmycharacter.
Whateverstatementyoumake,saysJoe,willbetakendowninevidenceagainstyou.
Ofcourseanactionwouldlie,saysJ.J.Itimpliesthatheisnotcomposmentis.U.p:up.
Composyoureye!saysAlf,laughing.Doyouknowthathe'sbalmy?Lookathishead.
Doyouknowthatsomemorningshehastogethishatonwithashoehorn.
Yes,saysJ.J.,butthetruthofalibelisnodefencetoanindictmentforpublishingitin

theeyesofthelaw.
Haha,Alf,saysJoe.
Still,saysBloom,onaccountofthepoorwoman,Imeanhiswife.
Pityabouther,saysthecitizen.Oranyotherwomanmarriesahalfandhalf.
Howhalfandhalf?saysBloom.Doyoumeanhe...
HalfandhalfImean,saysthecitizen.Afellowthat'sneitherfishnorflesh.
Norgoodredherring,saysJoe.
Thatwhat'sImean,saysthecitizen.Apishogue,ifyouknowwhatthatis.
BegobIsawtherewastroublecoming.AndBloomexplaininghemeantonaccountofit
beingcruelforthewifehavingtogoroundaftertheoldstutteringfool.Crueltytoanimalsso
it is to let that bloody povertystricken Breen out on grass with his beard out tripping him,
bringing down the rain. And she with her nose cockahoop after she married him because a
cousin of his old fellow's was pewopener to the pope. Picture of him on the wall with his
Smashall Sweeney's moustaches, the signior Brini from Summerhill, the eyetallyano, papal
ZouavetotheHolyFather,hasleftthequayandgonetoMossstreet.Andwhowashe,tell
us?Anobody,twopairbackandpassages,atsevenshillingsaweek,andhecoveredwithall
kindsofbreastplatesbiddingdefiancetotheworld.
Andmoreover,saysJ.J.,apostcardispublication.Itwasheldtobesufficientevidence
ofmaliceinthetestcaseSadgrovev.Hole.Inmyopinionanactionmightlie.
Sixandeightpence,please.Whowantsyouropinion?Letusdrinkourpintsinpeace.Gob,
wewon'tbeletevendothatmuchitself.
Well,goodhealth,Jack,saysNed.
Goodhealth,Ned,saysJ.J.
Thereheisagain,saysJoe.
Where?saysAlf.
Andbegobtherehewaspassingthedoorwithhisbooksunderhisoxterandthewifebeside
himandCornyKelleherwithhiswalleyelookinginastheywentpast,talkingtohimlikea
father,tryingtosellhimasecondhandcoffin.
HowdidthatCanadaswindlecasegooff?saysJoe.
Remanded,saysJ.J.
OneofthebottlenosedfraternityitwaswentbythenameofJamesWoughtaliasSaphiro
aliasSparkandSpiro,putanadinthepaperssayinghe'dgiveapassagetoCanadafortwenty
bob. What? Do you see any green in the white of my eye? Course it was a bloody barney.
What? Swindled them all, skivvies and badhachs from the county Meath, ay, and his own
kidneytoo.J.J.wastellingustherewasanancientHebrewZaretskyorsomethingweepingin
thewitnessboxwithhishatonhim,swearingbytheholyMoseshewasstuckfortwoquid.
Whotriedthecase?saysJoe.
Recorder,saysNed.
PooroldsirFrederick,saysAlf,youcancodhimuptothetwoeyes.
Heartasbigasalion,saysNed.Tellhimataleofwoeaboutarrearsofrentandasick
wifeandasquadofkidsand,faith,he'lldissolveintearsonthebench.
Ay,saysAlf.ReubenJwasbloodyluckyhedidn'tclaphiminthedocktheotherdayfor
suingpoorlittleGumleythat'smindingstones,forthecorporationtherenearButtbridge.
Andhestartstakingofftheoldrecorderlettingontocry:
A most scandalous thing! This poor hardworking man! How many children? Ten, did
yousay?
Yes,yourworship.Andmywifehasthetyphoid.
Andthewifewithtyphoidfever!Scandalous!Leavethecourtimmediately,sir.No,sir,

I'llmakenoorderforpayment.Howdareyou,sir,comeupbeforemeandaskmetomakean
order!Apoorhardworkingindustriousman!Idismissthecase.
Andwhereasonthesixteenthdayofthemonthoftheoxeyedgoddessandinthethirdweek
after the feastday of the Holy and Undivided Trinity, the daughter of the skies, the virgin
moonbeingtheninherfirstquarter,itcametopassthatthoselearnedjudgesrepairedthemto
thehallsoflaw.TheremasterCourtenay,sittinginhisownchamber,gavehisredeandmaster
JusticeAndrews,sittingwithoutajuryintheprobatecourt,weighedwellandponderedthe
claimofthefirstchargeantuponthepropertyinthematterofthewillpropoundedandfinal
testamentarydispositioninretherealandpersonalestateofthelatelamentedJacobHalliday,
vintner, deceased, versus Livingstone, an infant, of unsound mind, and another. And to the
solemncourtofGreenstreettherecamesirFredericktheFalconer.Andhesathimthereabout
thehouroffiveo'clocktoadministerthelawofthebrehonsatthecommissionforallthatand
thosepartstobeholdeninandforthecountyofthecityofDublin.Andtheresatwithhimthe
highsinhedrimofthetwelvetribesofIar,foreverytribeoneman,ofthetribeofPatrickand
ofthetribeofHughandofthetribeofOwenandofthetribeofConnandofthetribeofOscar
andofthetribeofFergusandofthetribeofFinnandofthetribeofDermotandofthetribeof
CormacandofthetribeofKevinandofthetribeofCaolteandofthetribeofOssian,there
beinginalltwelvegoodmenandtrue.AndheconjuredthembyHimwhodiedonroodthat
they should well and truly try and true deliverance make in the issue joined between their
sovereign lord the king and the prisoner at the bar and true verdict give according to the
evidencesohelpthemGodandkissthebook.Andtheyroseintheirseats,thosetwelveofIar,
and they swore by the name of Him Who is from everlasting that they would do His
rightwiseness.Andstraightwaytheminionsofthelawledforthfromtheirdonjonkeepone
whomthesleuthhoundsofjusticehadapprehendedinconsequenceofinformationreceived.
And they shackled him hand and foot and would take of him ne bail ne mainprise but
preferredachargeagainsthimforhewasamalefactor.
Those are nice things, says the citizen, coming over here to Ireland filling the country
withbugs.
So Bloom lets on he heard nothing and he starts talking with Joe, telling himheneedn't
troubleaboutthatlittlemattertillthefirstbutifhewouldjustsayawordtoMrCrawford.
AndsoJoesworehighandholybythisandbythathe'ddothedevilandall.
Because,yousee,saysBloom,foranadvertisementyoumusthaverepetition.That'sthe
wholesecret.
Relyonme,saysJoe.
Swindling the peasants, says the citizen, and the poor of Ireland. We want no more
strangersinourhouse.
O,I'msurethatwillbeallright,Hynes,saysBloom.It'sjustthatKeyes,yousee.
Considerthatdone,saysJoe.
Verykindofyou,saysBloom.
Thestrangers,saysthecitizen.Ourownfault.Weletthemcomein.Webroughtthemin.
TheadulteressandherparamourbroughttheSaxonrobbershere.
Decreenisi,saysJ.J.
And Bloom letting on to be awfully deeply interested in nothing, a spider's web in the
cornerbehindthebarrel,andthecitizenscowlingafterhimandtheolddogathisfeetlooking
uptoknowwhotobiteandwhen.
Adishonouredwife,saysthecitizen,that'swhat'sthecauseofallourmisfortunes.
And here she is, says Alf, that was giggling over the PoliceGazette with Terry on the
counter,inallherwarpaint.
Giveusasquintather,saysI.
And what was it only one of the smutty yankee pictures Terry borrows off of Corny

Kelleher. Secrets for enlarging your private parts. Misconduct of society belle. Norman W.
Tupper, wealthy Chicago contractor, finds pretty but faithless wife in lap of officer Taylor.
Belle in her bloomers misconducting herself, and her fancyman feeling for her tickles and
NormanW.Tupperbouncinginwithhispeashooterjustintimetobelateaftershedoingthe
trickoftheloopwithofficerTaylor.
Ojakers,Jenny,saysJoe,howshortyourshirtis!
There'shair,Joe,saysI.Getaqueeroldtailendofcornedbeefoffofthatone,what?
SoanyhowincameJohnWyseNolanandLenehanwithhimwithafaceonhimaslongas
alatebreakfast.
Well,saysthecitizen,what'sthelatestfromthesceneofaction?Whatdidthosetinkers
inthecityhallattheircaucusmeetingdecideabouttheIrishlanguage?
O'Nolan,cladinshiningarmour,lowbendingmadeobeisancetothepuissantandhighand
mighty chief of all Erin and did him to wit of that which had befallen, how that the grave
eldersofthemostobedientcity,secondoftherealm,hadmettheminthetholsel,andthere,
afterdueprayerstothegodswhodwellinethersupernal,hadtakensolemncounselwhereby
theymight,ifsobeitmightbe,bringoncemoreintohonouramongmortalmenthewinged
speechoftheseadividedGael.
It's on the march, says the citizen. To hell with the bloody brutal Sassenachsandtheir
patois.
SoJ.J.putsinaword,doingthetoffaboutonestorywasgoodtillyouheardanotherand
blinkingfactsandtheNelsonpolicy,puttingyourblindeyetothetelescopeanddrawingupa
bill of attainder to impeach a nation, and Bloom trying to back him up moderation and
botherationandtheircoloniesandtheircivilisation.
Their syphilisation, you mean, says the citizen. To hell with them! The curse of a
goodfornothingGodlightsidewaysonthebloodythickluggedsonsofwhores'gets!Nomusic
andnoartandnoliteratureworthyofthename.Anycivilisationtheyhavetheystolefromus.
Tonguetiedsonsofbastards'ghosts.
TheEuropeanfamily,saysJ.J....
They'renotEuropean,saysthecitizen.IwasinEuropewithKevinEganofParis.You
wouldn't see a trace of them or their language anywhere in Europe except in a cabinet
d'aisance.
AndsaysJohnWyse:
Fullmanyaflowerisborntoblushunseen.
AndsaysLenehanthatknowsabitofthelingo:
ConspuezlesAnglais!PerfideAlbion!
He said and then lifted he in his rude great brawny strengthy hands the medher of dark
strongfoamyaleand,utteringhistribalsloganLamhDeargAbu,hedranktotheundoingof
hisfoes,araceofmightyvalorousheroes,rulersofthewaves,whositonthronesofalabaster
silentasthedeathlessgods.
What'supwithyou,saysItoLenehan.Youlooklikeafellowthathadlostaboband
foundatanner.
Goldcup,sayshe.
Whowon,MrLenehan?saysTerry.
Throwaway,sayshe,attwentytoone.Arankoutsider.Andtherestnowhere.
AndBass'smare?saysTerry.
Stillrunning,sayshe.We'reallinacart.BoylanplungedtwoquidonmytipSceptrefor
himselfandaladyfriend.
Ihadhalfacrownmyself,saysTerry,onZinfandelthatMrFlynngaveme.LordHoward
deWalden's.

Twentytoone,saysLenehan.Suchislifeinanouthouse.Throwaway,sayshe.Takesthe
biscuit,andtalkingaboutbunions.Frailty,thynameisSceptre.
SohewentovertothebiscuittinBobDoranlefttoseeiftherewasanythinghecouldlift
on the nod, the old cur after him backing his luck with his mangy snout up. Old Mother
Hubbardwenttothecupboard.
Notthere,mychild,sayshe.
Keepyourpeckerup,saysJoe.She'dhavewonthemoneyonlyfortheotherdog.
AndJ.J.andthecitizenarguingaboutlawandhistorywithBloomstickinginanoddword.
Somepeople,saysBloom,canseethemoteinothers'eyesbuttheycan'tseethebeamin
theirown.
Raimeis, says the citizen. There's noone as blind as the fellow that won't see, if you
knowwhatthatmeans.WhereareourmissingtwentymillionsofIrishshouldbeheretoday
insteadoffour,ourlosttribes?Andourpotteriesandtextiles,thefinestinthewholeworld!
AndourwoolthatwassoldinRomeinthetimeofJuvenalandourflaxandourdamaskfrom
theloomsofAntrimandourLimericklace,ourtanneriesandourwhiteflintglassdownthere
byBallyboughandourHuguenotpoplinthatwehavesinceJacquarddeLyonandourwoven
silkandourFoxfordtweedsandivoryraisedpointfromtheCarmeliteconventinNewRoss,
nothinglikeitinthewholewideworld.WherearetheGreekmerchantsthatcamethroughthe
pillarsofHercules,theGibraltarnowgrabbedbythefoeofmankind,withgoldandTyrian
purple to sell in Wexford at the fair of Carmen? Read Tacitus and Ptolemy, even Giraldus
Cambrensis. Wine, peltries, Connemara marble, silver from Tipperary, second to none, our
farfamed horses even today, the Irish hobbies, with king Philip of Spain offering to pay
customsdutiesfortherighttofishinourwaters.WhatdotheyellowjohnsofAngliaoweus
forourruinedtradeandourruinedhearths? And the beds of the Barrow and Shannon they
won'tdeepenwithmillionsofacresofmarshandbogtomakeusalldieofconsumption?
AstreelessasPortugalwe'llbesoon,saysJohnWyse,orHeligolandwithitsonetreeif
somethingisnotdonetoreafforesttheland.Larches,firs,allthetreesoftheconiferfamily
aregoingfast.IwasreadingareportoflordCastletown's...
Savethem,saysthecitizen,thegiantashofGalwayandthechieftainelmofKildarewith
afortyfootboleandanacreoffoliage.SavethetreesofIrelandforthefuturemenofIreland
onthefairhillsofEire,O.
Europehasitseyesonyou,saysLenehan.
ThefashionableinternationalworldattendedENMASSEthisafternoonattheweddingof
thechevalierJeanWysedeNeaulan,grandhighchiefrangeroftheIrishNationalForesters,
withMissFirConiferofPineValley.LadySylvesterElmshade,MrsBarbaraLovebirch,Mrs
Poll Ash, Mrs Holly Hazeleyes, Miss Daphne Bays, Miss Dorothy Canebrake, Mrs Clyde
Twelvetrees, Mrs Rowan Greene, Mrs Helen Vinegadding, Miss Virginia Creeper, Miss
Gladys Beech, Miss Olive Garth, Miss Blanche Maple, Mrs Maud Mahogany, Miss Myra
Myrtle, Miss Priscilla Elderflower, Miss Bee Honeysuckle, Miss Grace Poplar, Miss O
Mimosa San, Miss Rachel Cedarfrond, the Misses Lilian and Viola Lilac, Miss Timidity
Aspenall, Mrs Kitty DeweyMosse, Miss May Hawthorne, Mrs Gloriana Palme, Mrs Liana
Forrest,Mrs Arabella Blackwood and Mrs Norma Holyoake of Oakholme Regis graced the
ceremonybytheirpresence.Thebridewhowasgivenawaybyherfather,theM'Coniferof
the Glands, looked exquisitely charming in a creation carried out in green mercerised silk,
mouldedonanunderslipofgloaminggrey,sashedwithayokeofbroademeraldandfinished
with a triple flounce of darkerhued fringe, the scheme being relieved by bretelles and hip
insertions of acorn bronze. The maids of honour, Miss Larch Conifer and Miss Spruce
Conifer,sistersofthebride,woreverybecomingcostumesinthesametone,adaintymotifof
plume rose being worked into the pleats in a pinstripe and repeated capriciously in the
jadegreen toques in the form of heron feathers of paletinted coral. Senhor Enrique Flor
presidedattheorganwithhiswellknownabilityand,inadditiontotheprescribednumbersof
thenuptialmass,playedanewandstrikingarrangementofWoodman,sparethattreeatthe

conclusion of the service. On leaving the church of Saint Fiacre in Horto after the papal
blessing the happy pair were subjected to a playful crossfire of hazelnuts, beechmast,
bayleaves,catkinsofwillow,ivytod,hollyberries,mistletoesprigsandquickenshoots.Mrand
MrsWyseConiferNeaulanwillspendaquiethoneymoonintheBlackForest.
And our eyes are on Europe, says the citizen. We had our trade with Spain and the
FrenchandwiththeFlemingsbeforethosemongrelswerepupped,SpanishaleinGalway,the
winebarkonthewinedarkwaterway.
Andwillagain,saysJoe.
AndwiththehelpoftheholymotherofGodwewillagain,saysthecitizen,clappinghis
thigh,ourharboursthatareemptywillbefullagain,Queenstown,Kinsale,Galway,Blacksod
Bay,VentryinthekingdomofKerry,Killybegs,thethirdlargestharbourinthewideworld
withafleetofmastsoftheGalwayLynchesandtheCavanO'ReillysandtheO'Kennedysof
Dublin when the earl of Desmond could make a treaty with the emperor Charles the Fifth
himself. And will again, says he, when the first Irish battleship is seen breasting the waves
withourownflagtothefore,noneofyourHenryTudor'sharps,no,theoldestflagafloat,the
flagoftheprovinceofDesmondandThomond,threecrownsonabluefield,thethreesonsof
Milesius.
Andhetookthelastswigoutofthepint.Moya.Allwindandpisslikeatanyardcat.Cows
inConnachthavelonghorns.Asmuchashisbloodylifeisworthtogodownandaddresshis
talltalktotheassembledmultitudeinShanagoldenwherehedaren'tshowhisnosewiththe
MollyMaguireslooking for him to let daylight through him for grabbing the holding of an
evictedtenant.
Hear,heartothat,saysJohnWyse.Whatwillyouhave?
Animperialyeomanry,saysLenehan,tocelebratetheoccasion.
Halfone,Terry,saysJohnWyse,andahandsup.Terry!Areyouasleep?
Yes,sir,saysTerry.SmallwhiskyandbottleofAllsop.Right,sir.
HangingoverthebloodypaperwithAlflookingforspicybitsinsteadofattendingtothe
generalpublic.Pictureofabuttingmatch,tryingtocracktheirbloodyskulls,onechapgoing
fortheotherwithhisheaddownlikeabullatagate.Andanotherone:BlackBeastBurnedin
Omaha,Ga.AlotofDeadwoodDicksinslouchhatsandtheyfiringataSambostrungupina
tree with his tongue out and a bonfire under him. Gob, they ought to drown himin thesea
afterandelectrocuteandcrucifyhimtomakesureoftheirjob.
Butwhataboutthefightingnavy,saysNed,thatkeepsourfoesatbay?
I'lltellyouwhataboutit,saysthecitizen.Helluponearthitis.Readtherevelationsthat's
goingoninthepapersaboutfloggingonthetrainingshipsatPortsmouth.Afellowwritesthat
callshimselfDisgustedOne.
Sohestartstellingusaboutcorporalpunishmentandaboutthecrewoftarsandofficersand
rearadmirals drawn up in cocked hats and the parson with his protestant bible to witness
punishmentandayoungladbroughtout,howlingforhisma,andtheytiehimdownonthe
buttendofagun.
Arumpanddozen,saysthecitizen,waswhatthatoldruffiansirJohnBeresfordcalledit
butthemodernGod'sEnglishmancallsitcaningonthebreech.
AndsaysJohnWyse:
'Tisacustommorehonouredinthebreachthanintheobservance.
Thenhewastellingusthemasteratarmscomesalongwithalongcaneandhedrawsout
andheflogsthebloodybacksideoffofthepoorladtillheyellsmeilamurder.
That'syourgloriousBritishnavy,saysthecitizen,thatbossestheearth.
Thefellowsthatneverwillbeslaves,withtheonlyhereditarychamberonthefaceofGod's
earthandtheirlandinthehandsofadozengamehogsandcottonballbarons.That'sthegreat
empiretheyboastaboutofdrudgesandwhippedserfs.

Onwhichthesunneverrises,saysJoe.
Andthetragedyofitis,saysthecitizen,theybelieveit.Theunfortunateyahoosbelieve
it.
Theybelieveinrod,thescourgeralmighty,creatorofhelluponearth,andinJackyTar,the
sonofagun,whowasconceivedofunholyboast,bornofthefightingnavy,sufferedunder
rump and dozen, was scarified, flayed and curried, yelled like bloody hell, the third day he
aroseagainfromthebed,steeredintohaven,sittethonhisbeamendtillfurtherorderswhence
heshallcometodrudgeforalivingandbepaid.
But, says Bloom, isn't discipline the same everywhere. I mean wouldn't it be the same
hereifyouputforceagainstforce?
Didn't I tell you? As true as I'm drinking this porter if he was at his last gasp he'd try to
downfaceyouthatdyingwasliving.
We'll put force against force, says the citizen. We have our greater Ireland beyond the
sea. They were driven out of house and home in the black 47. Their mudcabins and their
shielingsby the roadside were laidlowbythebatteringramandtheTimes rubbed its hands
andtold the whitelivered Saxons there would soon be as few Irish in Ireland as redskins in
America. Even the Grand Turk sent us his piastres. But the Sassenach tried to starve the
nationathomewhilethelandwasfullofcropsthattheBritishhyenasboughtandsoldinRio
deJaneiro.Ay,theydroveoutthepeasantsinhordes.Twentythousandofthemdiedinthe
coffinships.Butthosethatcametothelandofthefreerememberthelandofbondage.And
theywillcomeagainandwithavengeance,nocravens,thesonsofGranuaile,thechampions
ofKathleenniHoulihan.
Perfectlytrue,saysBloom.Butmypointwas...
Wearealongtimewaitingforthatday,citizen,saysNed.Sincethepooroldwomantold
usthattheFrenchwereontheseaandlandedatKillala.
Ay, says John Wyse. We fought for the royal Stuarts that reneged us against the
Williamitesandtheybetrayedus.RememberLimerickandthebrokentreatystone.Wegave
our best blood to France and Spain, the wild geese. Fontenoy, eh? And Sarsfield and
O'Donnell,dukeofTetuaninSpain,andUlyssesBrowneofCamusthatwasfieldmarshalto
MariaTeresa.Butwhatdidweevergetforit?
TheFrench!saysthecitizen.Setofdancingmasters!Doyouknowwhatitis?Theywere
neverwortharoastedfarttoIreland.Aren'ttheytryingtomakeanEntentecordiale now at
TayPay'sdinnerpartywithperfidiousAlbion?FirebrandsofEuropeandtheyalwayswere.
ConspuezlesFranais,saysLenehan,nobblinghisbeer.
AndasfortheProoshiansandtheHanoverians,saysJoe,haven'twehadenoughofthose
sausageeatingbastardsonthethronefromGeorgetheelectordowntotheGermanladandthe
flatulentoldbitchthat'sdead?
Jesus,Ihadtolaughatthewayhecameoutwiththatabouttheoldonewiththewinkerson
her,blinddrunkinherroyalpalaceeverynightofGod,oldVic,withherjorumofmountain
dewandhercoachmancartingherupbodyandbonestorollintobedandshepullinghimby
thewhiskersandsinginghimoldbitsofsongsaboutEhrenontheRhineandcomewherethe
booseischeaper.
Well,saysJ.J.WehaveEdwardthepeacemakernow.
Tellthattoafool,saysthecitizen.There'sabloodysightmorepoxthanpaxaboutthat
boyo.EdwardGuelphWettin!
And what do you think, says Joe, of the holy boys, the priests and bishops of Ireland
doing up his room in Maynooth in His Satanic Majesty's racing colours and sticking up
picturesofallthehorseshisjockeysrode.TheearlofDublin,noless.
Theyoughttohavestuckupallthewomenherodehimself,sayslittleAlf.
AndsaysJ.J.:

Considerationsofspaceinfluencedtheirlordships'decision.
Willyoutryanother,citizen?saysJoe.
Yes,sir,sayshe.Iwill.
You?saysJoe.
Beholdentoyou,Joe,saysI.Mayyourshadownevergrowless.
Repeatthatdose,saysJoe.
Bloom was talking and talking with John Wyse and he quite excited with his
dunducketymudcolouredmugonhimandhisoldplumeyesrollingabout.
Persecution,sayshe,allthehistoryoftheworldisfullofit.Perpetuatingnationalhatred
amongnations.
Butdoyouknowwhatanationmeans?saysJohnWyse.
Yes,saysBloom.
Whatisit?saysJohnWyse.
Anation?saysBloom.Anationisthesamepeoplelivinginthesameplace.
ByGod,then,saysNed,laughing,ifthat'ssoI'manationforI'mlivinginthesameplace
forthepastfiveyears.
SoofcourseeveryonehadthelaughatBloomandsayshe,tryingtomuckoutofit:
Oralsolivingindifferentplaces.
Thatcoversmycase,saysJoe.
WhatisyournationifImayask?saysthecitizen.
Ireland,saysBloom.Iwasbornhere.Ireland.
Thecitizensaidnothingonlyclearedthespitoutofhisgulletand,gob,hespataRedbank
oysteroutofhimrightinthecorner.
Afteryouwiththepush,Joe,sayshe,takingouthishandkerchieftoswabhimselfdry.
Here you are, citizen, says Joe. Take that in your right hand and repeat after me the
followingwords.
The muchtreasured and intricately embroidered ancient Irish facecloth attributed to
SolomonofDromaandManusTomaltachogMacDonogh,authorsoftheBookofBallymote,
wasthencarefullyproducedandcalledforthprolongedadmiration.Noneedtodwellonthe
legendarybeautyofthecornerpieces,theacmeofart,whereinonecandistinctlydiscerneach
ofthefourevangelistsinturnpresentingtoeachofthefourmastershisevangelicalsymbol,a
bogoaksceptre,aNorthAmericanpuma(afarnoblerkingofbeaststhantheBritisharticle,be
itsaidinpassing),aKerrycalfandagoldeneaglefromCarrantuohill.Thescenesdepictedon
the emunctory field, showing our ancient duns and raths and cromlechs and grianauns and
seats of learning and maledictive stones, are as wonderfully beautiful and the pigments as
delicateaswhentheSligoilluminatorsgavefreereintotheirartisticfantasylonglongagoin
the time of the Barmecides. Glendalough, the lovely lakes of Killarney, the ruins of
Clonmacnois,CongAbbey,GlenInaghandtheTwelvePins,Ireland'sEye,theGreenHillsof
Tallaght, Croagh Patrick, the brewery of Messrs Arthur Guinness, Son and Company
(Limited), Lough Neagh's banks, the vale of Ovoca, Isolde's tower, the Mapas obelisk, Sir
Patrick Dun's hospital, Cape Clear, the glen of Aherlow, Lynch's castle, the Scotch house,
Rathdown Union Workhouse at Loughlinstown, Tullamore jail, Castleconnel rapids,
Kilballymacshonakill, the cross at Monasterboice, Jury's Hotel, S. Patrick's Purgatory, the
Salmon Leap, Maynooth college refectory, Curley's hole, the three birthplaces of the first
duke of Wellington, the rock of Cashel, the bog of Allen, the Henry Street Warehouse,
Fingal'sCaveallthese moving scenes are still there for us today rendered more beautiful
still by the waters of sorrow which have passed over them and by the rich incrustations of
time.
Showusoverthedrink,saysI.Whichiswhich?

That'smine,saysJoe,asthedevilsaidtothedeadpoliceman.
AndIbelongtoaracetoo,saysBloom,thatishatedandpersecuted.Alsonow.Thisvery
moment.Thisveryinstant.
Gob,henearburnthisfingerswiththebuttofhisoldcigar.
Robbed,sayshe.Plundered.Insulted.Persecuted.Takingwhatbelongstousbyright.At
thisverymoment,sayshe,puttinguphisfist,soldbyauctioninMoroccolikeslavesorcattle.
AreyoutalkingaboutthenewJerusalem?saysthecitizen.
I'mtalkingaboutinjustice,saysBloom.
Right,saysJohnWyse.Standuptoitthenwithforcelikemen.
That'sanalmanacpictureforyou.Markforasoftnosedbullet.Oldlardyfacestandingupto
the business end of agun. Gob, he'dadorn a sweepingbrush, so he would, if he only had a
nurse'saprononhim.Andthenhecollapsesallofasudden,twistingaroundalltheopposite,
aslimpasawetrag.
But it's no use, says he. Force, hatred, history, all that. That's not life for men and
women, insult and hatred. And everybody knows that it's the very opposite of that that is
reallylife.
What?saysAlf.
Love,saysBloom.Imeantheoppositeofhatred.Imustgonow,sayshetoJohnWyse.
JustroundtothecourtamomenttoseeifMartinisthere.IfhecomesjustsayI'llbebackina
second.Justamoment.
Who'shinderingyou?Andoffhepopslikegreasedlightning.
Anewapostletothegentiles,saysthecitizen.Universallove.
Well,saysJohnWyse.Isn'tthatwhatwe'retold.Loveyourneighbour.
Thatchap?saysthecitizen.Beggarmyneighbourishismotto.Love,moya!He'sanice
patternofaRomeoandJuliet.
Love loves to love love. Nurse loves the new chemist. Constable 14A loves Mary Kelly.
GertyMacDowelllovestheboythathasthebicycle.M.B.lovesafairgentleman.LiChiHan
lovey up kissy Cha Pu Chow. Jumbo, the elephant, loves Alice, the elephant. Old Mr
VerschoylewiththeeartrumpetlovesoldMrsVerschoylewiththeturnedineye.Themanin
thebrownmacintoshlovesaladywhoisdead.HisMajestytheKinglovesHerMajestythe
Queen. Mrs Norman W. Tupper loves officer Taylor. You love a certain person. And this
personlovesthatotherpersonbecauseeverybodylovessomebodybutGodloveseverybody.
Well,Joe,saysI,yourverygoodhealthandsong.Morepower,citizen.
Hurrah,there,saysJoe.
TheblessingofGodandMaryandPatrickonyou,saysthecitizen.
Andheupswithhispinttowethiswhistle.
We know those canters, says he, preaching and picking your pocket. What about
sanctimonious Cromwell and his ironsides that put the women and children of Drogheda to
theswordwiththebibletextGodislovepasted round the mouth of his cannon? The bible!
Did you read that skit in the United Irishman today about that Zulu chief that's visiting
England?
What'sthat?saysJoe.
Sothecitizentakesuponeofhisparaphernaliapapersandhestartsreadingout:
AdelegationofthechiefcottonmagnatesofManchesterwaspresentedyesterdaytoHis
MajestytheAlakiofAbeakutabyGoldStickinWaiting,LordWalkupofWalkuponEggs,to
tendertoHisMajestytheheartfeltthanksofBritishtradersforthefacilitiesaffordedthemin
his dominions. The delegation partook of luncheon at the conclusion of which the dusky
potentate, in the course of a happy speech, freely translated by the British chaplain, the
reverend Ananias Praisegod Barebones, tendered his best thanks to Massa Walkup and

emphasised the cordial relations existing between Abeakuta and the British empire, stating
that he treasured as one of his dearest possessions an illuminated bible, the volume of the
wordofGodandthesecretofEngland'sgreatness,graciouslypresentedtohimbythewhite
chiefwoman,thegreatsquawVictoria,withapersonaldedicationfromtheaugusthandofthe
RoyalDonor.TheAlakithendrankalovingcupoffirstshotusquebaughtothetoastBlackand
WhitefromtheskullofhisimmediatepredecessorinthedynastyKakachakachak,surnamed
FortyWarts,afterwhichhevisitedthechieffactoryofCottonopolisandsignedhismarkin
thevisitors'book,subsequentlyexecutingacharmingoldAbeakuticwardance,inthecourse
ofwhichheswallowedseveralknivesandforks,amidhilariousapplausefromthegirlhands.
Widowwoman,saysNed.Iwouldn'tdoubther.Wonderdidheputthatbibletothesame
useasIwould.
Same only more so, says Lenehan. And thereafter in that fruitful land the broadleaved
mangoflourishedexceedingly.
IsthatbyGriffith?saysJohnWyse.
No,saysthecitizen.It'snotsignedShanganagh.It'sonlyinitialled:P.
Andaverygoodinitialtoo,saysJoe.
That'showit'sworked,saysthecitizen.Tradefollowstheflag.
Well, says J. J., if they're any worse than those Belgians in the Congo Free State they
mustbebad.Didyoureadthatreportbyamanwhat'sthishisnameis?
Casement,saysthecitizen.He'sanIrishman.
Yes,that'stheman,saysJ.J.Rapingthewomenandgirlsandfloggingthenativesonthe
bellytosqueezealltheredrubbertheycanoutofthem.
Iknowwherehe'sgone,saysLenehan,crackinghisfingers.
Who?saysI.
Bloom, says he. The courthouse is a blind. He had a few bob on Throwaway and he's
gonetogatherintheshekels.
Isitthatwhiteeyedkaffir?saysthecitizen,thatneverbackedahorseinangerinhislife?
That'swherehe'sgone,saysLenehan.ImetBantamLyonsgoingtobackthathorseonly
I put him off it and he told me Bloom gave him the tip. Bet you what you like he has a
hundredshillingstofiveon.He'stheonlymaninDublinhasit.Adarkhorse.
He'sabloodydarkhorsehimself,saysJoe.
Mind,Joe,saysI.Showustheentranceout.
Thereyouare,saysTerry.
GoodbyeIrelandI'mgoingtoGort.SoIjustwentroundthebackoftheyardtopumpship
andbegob(hundredshillingstofive)whileIwaslettingoffmy(Throwawaytwentyto)letting
offmyloadgobsaysItomyselfIknewhewasuneasyinhis(twopintsoffofJoeandonein
Slattery'soff)inhismindtogetoffthemarkto(hundredshillingsisfivequid)andwhenthey
wereinthe(darkhorse)pisserBurkewastellingmecardpartyandlettingonthechildwas
sick(gob,musthavedoneaboutagallon)flabbyarseofawifespeakingdownthetubeshe's
betterorshe's(ow!)allaplansohecouldvamoosewiththepoolifhewonor(Jesus,fullupI
was)tradingwithoutalicence(ow!)Irelandmynationsayshe(hoik!phthook!)neverbeup
tothosebloody(there'sthelastofit)Jerusalem(ah!)cuckoos.
SoanyhowwhenIgotbacktheywereatitdingdong,JohnWysesayingitwasBloomgave
theideasforSinnFeintoGriffithtoputinhispaperallkindsofjerrymandering,packedjuries
and swindling the taxes off of the government and appointing consuls all over the world to
walk about selling Irish industries. Robbing Peter to pay Paul. Gob, that puts the bloody
kyboshonitifoldsloppyeyesismuckinguptheshow.Giveusabloodychance.Godsave
Irelandfromthelikesofthatbloodymouseabout.MrBloomwithhisargolbargol.Andhis
oldfellowbeforehimperpetratingfrauds,oldMethusalemBloom,therobbingbagman,that
poisonedhimselfwiththeprussicacidafterheswampingthecountrywithhisbaublesandhis

pennydiamonds.Loansbypostoneasyterms.Anyamountofmoneyadvanced on note of
hand.Distancenoobject.Nosecurity.Gob,he'slikeLantyMacHale'sgoatthat'dgoapiece
oftheroadwitheveryone.
Well, it's a fact, says John Wyse. And there's the man now that'll tell you all about it,
MartinCunningham.
Sure enough the castle car drove up with Martin on it and Jack Power with him and a
fellow named Crofter or Crofton, pensioner out of the collector general's, an orangeman
Blackburn does have on the registration and he drawing his pay or Crawford gallivanting
aroundthecountryattheking'sexpense.
Ourtravellersreachedtherustichostelryandalightedfromtheirpalfreys.
Ho,varlet!criedhe,whobyhismienseemedtheleaderoftheparty.Saucyknave!To
us!
Sosayingheknockedloudlywithhisswordhiltupontheopenlattice.
Minehostcameforthatthesummons,girdinghimwithhistabard.
Giveyougoodden,mymasters,saidhewithanobsequiousbow.
Bestirthyself,sirrah!criedhewhohadknocked.Looktooursteeds.Andforourselves
giveusofyourbestforifaithweneedit.
Lackaday,goodmasters,saidthehost,mypoorhousehasbutabarelarder.Iknownot
whattoofferyourlordships.
How now, fellow? cried the second of the party, a man of pleasant countenance, So
servestthoutheking'smessengers,masterTaptun?
Aninstantaneouschangeoverspreadthelandlord'svisage.
Cryyoumercy,gentlemen,hesaidhumbly.Anyoubetheking'smessengers(Godshield
HisMajesty!)youshallnotwantforaught.Theking'sfriends(GodblessHisMajesty!)shall
notgoafastinginmyhouseIwarrantme.
Thenabout!criedthetravellerwhohadnotspoken,alustytrenchermanbyhisaspect.
Hastaughttogiveus?
Minehostbowedagainashemadeanswer:
Whatsayyou,goodmasters,toasquabpigeonpasty,somecollopsofvenison,asaddle
of veal, widgeon with crisp hog's bacon, a boar's head with pistachios, a bason of jolly
custard,amedlartansyandaflagonofoldRhenish?
Gadzooks!criedthelastspeaker.Thatlikesmewell.Pistachios!
Aha!criedheofthepleasantcountenance.Apoorhouseandabarelarder,quotha!'Tisa
merryrogue.
SoincomesMartinaskingwherewasBloom.
Whereishe?saysLenehan.Defraudingwidowsandorphans.
Isn'tthatafact,saysJohnWyse,whatIwastellingthecitizenaboutBloomandtheSinn
Fein?
That'sso,saysMartin.Orsotheyallege.
Whomadethoseallegations?saysAlf.
I,saysJoe.I'mthealligator.
Andafterall,saysJohnWyse,whycan'tajewlovehiscountrylikethenextfellow?
Whynot?saysJ.J.,whenhe'squitesurewhichcountryitis.
IsheajeworagentileoraholyRomanoraswaddlerorwhatthehellishe?saysNed.
Orwhoishe?Nooffence,Crofton.
WhoisJunius?saysJ.J.
Wedon'twanthim,saysCroftertheOrangemanorpresbyterian.
He'sapervertedjew,saysMartin,fromaplaceinHungaryanditwashedrewupallthe

plansaccordingtotheHungariansystem.Weknowthatinthecastle.
Isn'theacousinofBloomthedentist?saysJackPower.
Not at all, says Martin. Only namesakes. His name was Virag, the father's name that
poisonedhimself.Hechangeditbydeedpoll,thefatherdid.
That'sthenewMessiahforIreland!saysthecitizen.Islandofsaintsandsages!
Well,they'restillwaitingfortheirredeemer,saysMartin.Forthatmattersoarewe.
Yes,saysJ.J.,andeverymalethat'sborntheythinkitmaybetheirMessiah.Andevery
jewisinatallstateofexcitement,Ibelieve,tillheknowsifhe'safatheroramother.
Expectingeverymomentwillbehisnext,saysLenehan.
O,byGod,saysNed,youshouldhaveseenBloombeforethatsonofhisthatdiedwas
born. I met him one day in the south city markets buying a tin of Neave's food six weeks
beforethewifewasdelivered.
Enventresamre,saysJ.J.
Doyoucallthataman?saysthecitizen.
Iwonderdidheeverputitoutofsight,saysJoe.
Well,thereweretwochildrenbornanyhow,saysJackPower.
Andwhodoeshesuspect?saysthecitizen.
Gob,there'smanyatruewordspokeninjest.Oneofthosemixedmiddlingsheis.Lyingup
inthehotelPisserwastellingmeonceamonthwithheadachelikeatottywithhercourses.
DoyouknowwhatI'mtellingyou?It'dbeanactofGodtotakeaholdofafellowthelikeof
thatandthrowhiminthebloodysea.Justifiablehomicide,soitwould.Thenslopingoffwith
hisfivequidwithoutputtingupapintofstufflikeaman.Giveusyourblessing.Notasmuch
aswouldblindyoureye.
Charitytotheneighbour,saysMartin.Butwhereishe?Wecan'twait.
A wolf in sheep's clothing, says the citizen. That's what he is. Virag from Hungary!
AhasuerusIcallhim.CursedbyGod.
Haveyoutimeforabrieflibation,Martin?saysNed.
Onlyone,saysMartin.Wemustbequick.J.J.andS.
You,Jack?Crofton?Threehalfones,Terry.
Saint Patrick would want to land again at Ballykinlar and convert us, says the citizen,
afterallowingthingslikethattocontaminateourshores.
Well,saysMartin,rappingforhisglass.Godblessallhereismyprayer.
Amen,saysthecitizen.
AndI'msureHewill,saysJoe.
And at the sound of the sacring bell, headed by a crucifer with acolytes, thurifers,
boatbearers, readers, ostiarii, deacons and subdeacons, the blessed company drew nigh of
mitred abbots and priors and guardians and monks and friars: the monks of Benedict of
Spoleto, Carthusians and Camaldolesi, Cistercians and Olivetans, Oratorians and
Vallombrosans, and the friars of Augustine, Brigittines, Premonstratensians, Servi,
Trinitarians,andthechildrenofPeterNolasco:andtherewithfromCarmelmountthechildren
ofElijahprophetledbyAlbertbishopandbyTeresaofAvila,calcedand other: andfriars,
brownandgrey,sonsofpoorFrancis,capuchins,cordeliers,minimesandobservantsandthe
daughtersofClara:andthesonsofDominic,thefriarspreachers,andthesonsofVincent:and
the monks of S. Wolstan: and Ignatius his children: and the confraternity of the christian
brothers led by the reverend brother Edmund Ignatius Rice. And after came all saints and
martyrs, virgins and confessors: S. Cyr and S. Isidore Arator and S. James the Less and S.
PhocasofSinopeandS.JulianHospitatorandS.FelixdeCantaliceandS.SimonStylitesand
S.StephenProtomartyrandS.JohnofGodandS.FerreolandS.LeugardeandS.Theodotus
andS.VulmarandS.RichardandS.VincentdePaulandS.MartinofTodiandS.Martinof

Tours and S. Alfred and S. Joseph and S. Denis and S. Cornelius and S. Leopold and S.
Bernard and S. Terence and S. Edward and S. Owen Caniculus and S. Anonymous and S.
Eponymous and S. Pseudonymous and S. Homonymous and S. Paronymous and S.
Synonymous and S. Laurence O'Toole and S. James of Dingle and Compostella and S.
ColumcilleandS.ColumbaandS.CelestineandS.ColmanandS.KevinandS.Brendanand
S.FrigidianandS.SenanandS.FachtnaandS.ColumbanusandS.GallandS.FurseyandS.
FintanandS.FiacreandS.JohnNepomucandS.ThomasAquinasandS.IvesofBrittanyand
S. Michan and S. HermanJoseph and the three patrons of holy youth S. Aloysius Gonzaga
and S. Stanislaus Kostka and S. John Berchmans and the saints Gervasius, Servasius and
BonifaciusandS.BrideandS.KieranandS.CaniceofKilkennyandS.JarlathofTuamand
S. Finbarr and S. Pappin of Ballymun and Brother Aloysius Pacificus and Brother Louis
BellicosusandthesaintsRoseofLimaandofViterboandS.MarthaofBethanyandS.Mary
ofEgyptandS.LucyandS.BrigidandS.AttractaandS.DympnaandS.ItaandS.Marion
CalpensisandtheBlessedSisterTeresaoftheChildJesusandS.BarbaraandS.Scholastica
and S. Ursula with eleven thousand virgins. And all came with nimbi and aureoles and
gloriae,bearingpalmsandharpsandswordsandolivecrowns,inrobeswhereonwerewoven
the blessed symbols of their efficacies, inkhorns, arrows, loaves, cruses, fetters, axes, trees,
bridges, babes in a bathtub, shells, wallets, shears, keys, dragons, lilies, buckshot, beards,
hogs, lamps, bellows, beehives, soupladles, stars, snakes, anvils, boxes of vaseline, bells,
crutches, forceps, stags' horns, watertight boots, hawks, millstones, eyes on a dish, wax
candles,aspergills,unicorns.AndastheywendedtheirwaybyNelson'sPillar,Henrystreet,
Marystreet,Capelstreet,LittleBritainstreetchantingtheintroitinEpiphaniaDominiwhich
beginneth Surge, illuminare and thereafter most sweetly the gradual Omnes which saith de
Saba venient they did divers wonders such as casting out devils, raising the dead to life,
multiplyingfishes,healingthehaltandtheblind,discoveringvariousarticleswhichhadbeen
mislaid,interpretingandfulfillingthescriptures,blessingandprophesying.Andlast,beneath
acanopyofclothofgoldcamethereverendFatherO'FlynnattendedbyMalachiandPatrick.
And when the good fathers had reached the appointed place, the house of Bernard Kiernan
andCo,limited,8,9and10littleBritainstreet,wholesalegrocers,wineandbrandyshippers,
licensedfothesaleofbeer,wineandspiritsforconsumptiononthepremises,thecelebrant
blessedthehouseandcensedthemullionedwindowsandthegroynesandthevaultsandthe
arrisesandthecapitalsandthepedimentsandthecornicesandtheengrailedarchesand the
spiresandthecupolasandsprinkledthelintelsthereofwithblessedwaterandprayedthatGod
mightblessthathouseashehadblessedthehouseofAbrahamandIsaacandJacobandmake
theangelsofHislighttoinhabittherein.Andenteringheblessedtheviandsandthebeverages
andthecompanyofalltheblessedansweredhisprayers.
AdiutoriumnostruminnomineDomini.
Quifecitcoelumetterram.
Dominusvobiscum.
Etcumspiritutuo.
Andhelaidhishandsuponthatheblessedandgavethanksandheprayedandtheyallwith
himprayed:
Deus, cuius verbo sanctificantur omnia, benedictionem tuam effunde super creaturas
istas:etpraestautquisquiseissecundumlegemetvoluntatemTuamcumgratiarumactione
ususfueritperinvocationemsanctissiminominisTuicorporissanitatemetanimaetutelamTe
auctorepercipiatperChristumDominumnostrum.
Andsosayallofus,saysJack.
Thousandayear,Lambert,saysCroftonorCrawford.
Right,saysNed,takinguphisJohnJameson.Andbutterforfish.
Iwasjustlookingaroundtoseewhothehappythoughtwouldstrikewhenbedamnedbut
inhecomesagainlettingontobeinahellofahurry.
Iwasjustroundatthecourthouse,sayshe,lookingforyou.IhopeI'mnot...

No,saysMartin,we'reready.
Courthouse my eye and your pockets hanging down with gold and silver. Mean bloody
scut.Standusadrinkitself.Devilasweetfear!There'sajewfor you! All fornumberone.
Cuteasashithouserat.Hundredtofive.
Don'ttellanyone,saysthecitizen,
Begyourpardon,sayshe.
Comeonboys,saysMartin,seeingitwaslookingblue.Comealongnow.
Don'ttellanyone,saysthecitizen,lettingabawloutofhim.It'sasecret.
Andthebloodydogwokeupandletagrowl.
Byebyeall,saysMartin.
And he got them out as quick as he could, JackPower andCrofton or whatever you call
himandhiminthemiddleofthemlettingontobeallatseaandupwiththemonthebloody
jauntingcar.
Offwithyou,says
Martintothejarvey.
Themilkwhitedolphintossedhismaneand,risinginthegoldenpoopthehelmsmanspread
the bellying sail upon the wind and stood off forward with all sail set, the spinnaker to
larboard.Amanycomelynymphsdrewnightostarboardandtolarboardand,clingingtothe
sidesofthenoblebark,theylinkedtheirshiningformsasdoththecunningwheelwrightwhen
he fashions about the heart of his wheel the equidistant rays whereof each one is sister to
anotherandhebindsthemallwithanouterringandgivethspeedtothefeetofmenwhenas
theyridetoahostingorcontendforthesmileofladiesfair.Evensodidtheycomeandset
them,thosewillingnymphs,theundyingsisters.Andtheylaughed,sportinginacircleoftheir
foam:andthebarkclavethewaves.
But begob I was just lowering the heel of the pint when I saw the citizen getting up to
waddle to the door, puffing and blowing with the dropsy, and he cursing the curse of
Cromwellonhim,bell,bookandcandleinIrish,spittingandspattingoutofhimandJoeand
littleAlfroundhimlikealeprechauntryingtopeacifyhim.
Letmealone,sayshe.
Andbegobhegotasfarasthedoorandtheyholdinghimandhebawlsoutofhim:
ThreecheersforIsrael!
Arrah,sitdownontheparliamentarysideofyourarseforChrist'sakeanddon'tbemaking
apublicexhibitionofyourself.Jesus,there'salwayssomebloodyclownorotherkickingupa
bloodymurderaboutbloodynothing.Gob,it'dturntheportersourinyourguts,soitwould.
AndalltheragamuffinsandslutsofthenationroundthedoorandMartintellingthejarvey
todriveaheadandthecitizenbawlingandAlfandJoeathimtowhishtandheonhishigh
horseaboutthejewsandtheloaferscallingforaspeechandJackPowertryingtogethimto
sit down on the car and hold his bloody jaw and a loafer with a patch over his eye starts
singingIfthemaninthemoonwasajew,jew,jewandaslutshoutsoutofher:
Eh,mister!Yourflyisopen,mister!
Andsayshe:
MendelssohnwasajewandKarlMarxandMercadanteandSpinoza.AndtheSaviour
wasajewandhisfatherwasajew.YourGod.
Hehadnofather,saysMartin.That'lldonow.Driveahead.
WhoseGod?saysthecitizen.
Well,hisunclewasajew,sayshe.YourGodwasajew.Christwasajewlikeme.
Gob,thecitizenmadeaplungebackintotheshop.
ByJesus,sayshe,I'llbrainthatbloodyjewmanforusingtheholyname.

ByJesus,I'llcrucifyhimsoIwill.Giveusthatbiscuitboxhere.
Stop!Stop!saysJoe.
A large and appreciative gathering of friends and acquaintances from the metropolis and
greaterDublinassembledintheirthousandstobidfarewelltoNagyasagosuramLipotiVirag,
lateofMessrsAlexanderThom's,printerstoHisMajesty,ontheoccasionofhisdeparturefor
thedistantclimeofSzazharminczbrojugulyasDugulas(MeadowofMurmuringWaters).The
ceremonywhichwentoffwithgreatclatwascharacterisedbythemostaffectingcordiality.
An illuminated scroll of ancient Irish vellum, the workofIrishartists,waspresentedtothe
distinguished phenomenologist on behalf of a large section of the community and was
accompanied by the gift of a silver casket, tastefully executed in the style of ancient Celtic
ornament, a work which reflects every credit on the makers, Messrs Jacob agus Jacob. The
departingguestwastherecipientofaheartyovation,manyofthosewhowerepresentbeing
visibly moved when the select orchestra of Irish pipes struck up the wellknown strains of
ComebacktoErin,followedimmediatelybyRakoczsy'sMarch.Tarbarrelsandbonfireswere
lightedalongthecoastlineofthefourseasonthesummitsoftheHillofHowth,ThreeRock
Mountain,Sugarloaf,BrayHead,themountainsofMourne,theGaltees,theOxandDonegal
and Sperrin peaks, the Nagles and the Bograghs, the Connemara hills, the reeks of M
Gillicuddy, Slieve Aughty, Slieve Bernagh and Slieve Bloom. Amid cheers that rent the
welkin, responded to by answering cheers from a big muster of henchmen on the distant
CambrianandCaledonianhills,themastodonticpleasureshipslowlymovedawaysalutedbya
finalfloraltributefromtherepresentativesofthefairsexwhowerepresentinlargenumbers
while,asitproceededdowntheriver,escortedbyaflotillaofbarges,theflagsoftheBallast
office and Custom House were dipped in salute as were also those of the electrical power
station at the Pigeonhouse and the Poolbeg Light. Visszontltsra, kedves barton!
Visszontltsra!Gonebutnotforgotten.
Gob,thedevilwouldn'tstophimtillhegotholdofthebloodytinanyhowandoutwithhim
andlittleAlfhangingontohiselbowandheshoutinglikeastuckpig,asgoodasanybloody
playintheQueen'sroyaltheatre:
WhereishetillImurderhim?
AndNedandJ.J.paralysedwiththelaughing.
Bloodywars,saysI,I'llbeinforthelastgospel.
Butasluckwouldhaveitthejarveygotthenag'sheadroundtheotherway and off with
him.
Holdon,citizen,saysJoe.Stop!
Begob he drew his hand and made a swipe and let fly. Mercy of God the sun wasinhis
eyesorhe'dhavelefthimfordead.Gob,henearsentitintothecountyLongford.Thebloody
nagtookfrightandtheoldmongrelafterthecarlikebloodyhellandallthepopulaceshouting
andlaughingandtheoldtinboxclatteringalongthestreet.
The catastrophe was terrific and instantaneous in its effect. The observatory of Dunsink
registeredinallelevenshocks,allofthefifthgradeofMercalli'sscale,andthereisnorecord
extantofasimilarseismicdisturbanceinourislandsincetheearthquakeof1534,theyearof
therebellionofSilkenThomas.Theepicentreappearstohavebeenthatpartofthemetropolis
which constitutes the Inn's Quay ward and parish of Saint Michan covering a surface of
fortyone acres, two roods and one square pole or perch. All the lordly residences in the
vicinityofthepalaceofjusticeweredemolishedandthatnobleedificeitself,inwhichatthe
timeofthecatastropheimportantlegaldebateswereinprogress,is literally amass ofruins
beneathwhichitistobefearedalltheoccupantshavebeenburiedalive.Fromthereportsof
eyewitnessesittranspiresthattheseismicwaveswereaccompaniedbyaviolentatmospheric
perturbation of cyclonic character. An article of headgear since ascertained to belongtothe
muchrespectedclerkofthecrownandpeaceMrGeorgeFottrellandasilkumbrellawithgold
handle with the engraved initials, crest, coat of arms and house number of the erudite and
worshipfulchairmanofquartersessionssirFrederickFalkiner,recorderofDublin,havebeen

discoveredbysearchpartiesinremotepartsoftheislandrespectively,theformeronthethird
basaltic ridge of the giant's causeway, the latter embedded to the extent of one foot three
inchesinthesandybeachofHoleopenbayneartheoldheadofKinsale.Othereyewitnesses
depose that they observed an incandescent object of enormous proportions hurtling through
theatmosphereataterrifyingvelocityinatrajectorydirectedsouthwestbywest.Messagesof
condolenceandsympathyarebeinghourlyreceivedfromallpartsofthedifferentcontinents
and the sovereign pontiff has been graciously pleased to decree that a special missa pro
defunctis shall be celebrated simultaneously by the ordinaries of each and every cathedral
church of all the episcopal dioceses subject to the spiritual authority of the Holy See in
suffrageofthesoulsofthosefaithfuldepartedwhohavebeensounexpectedlycalledaway
from our midst. The work of salvage, removal of dbris, human remains etc has been
entrustedtoMessrsMichaelMeadeandSon,159GreatBrunswickstreet,andMessrsT.and
C. Martin, 77, 78, 79 and 80 North Wall, assisted by the men and officers of the Duke of
Cornwall's light infantry under the general supervision of H. R. H., rear admiral, the right
honourablesirHerculesHannibalHabeasCorpusAnderson,K.G.,K.P.,K.T.,P.C.,K.C.
B.,M.P,J.P.,M.B.,D.S.O.,S.O.D.,M.F.H.,M.R.I.A.,B.L.,Mus.Doc.,P.L.G.,F.
T.C.D.,F.R.U.I.,F.R.C.P.I.andF.R.C.S.I.
Youneversawthelikeofitinallyourbornpuff.Gob,ifhegotthatlotteryticketonthe
sideofhispollhe'drememberthegoldcup,hewouldso,butbegobthecitizenwouldhave
beenlaggedforassaultandbatteryandJoeforaidingandabetting.Thejarveysavedhislife
byfuriousdrivingassureasGodmadeMoses.What?O,Jesus,hedid.Andheletavolleyof
oathsafterhim.
DidIkillhim,sayshe,orwhat?
Andheshoutingtothebloodydog:
Afterhim,Garry!Afterhim,boy!
And the last we saw was the bloody car rounding the corner and old sheepsface on it
gesticulating and the bloody mongrel after it with his lugs back for all he was bloody well
worthtotearhimlimbfromlimb.Hundredtofive!Jesus,hetookthevalueofitoutofhim,I
promiseyou.
When,lo,therecameaboutthemallagreatbrightnessandtheybeheldthechariotwherein
Hestoodascendtoheaven.AndtheybeheldHiminthechariot,clotheduponinthegloryof
thebrightness,havingraimentasofthesun,fairasthemoonandterriblethatforawethey
durstnotlookuponHim.Andtherecameavoiceoutofheaven,calling:Elijah!Elijah!And
He answered with a main cry: Abba!Adonai! And they beheld Him even Him, ben Bloom
Elijah, amid clouds of angels ascend to the glory of the brightness at an angle of fortyfive
degreesoverDonohoe'sinLittleGreenstreetlikeashotoffashovel.
Thesummereveninghadbeguntofoldtheworldinitsmysteriousembrace.Farawayin
thewestthesunwassettingandthelastglowofalltoofleetingdaylingeredlovinglyonsea
and strand, on the proud promontory of dear old Howth guarding as ever the waters of the
bay, on the weedgrown rocks along Sandymount shore and, last but not least, on the quiet
churchwhencetherestreamedforthattimesuponthestillnessthevoiceofprayertoherwho
isinherpureradianceabeaconevertothestormtossedheartofman,Mary,starofthesea.
The three girl friends were seated on the rocks, enjoying the evening scene and the air
whichwasfreshbutnottoochilly.Manyatimeandoftweretheywonttocometheretothat
favouritenooktohaveacosychatbesidethesparklingwavesanddiscussmattersfeminine,
Cissy Caffrey and Edy Boardman with the baby in the pushcar and Tommy and Jacky
Caffrey,twolittlecurlyheadedboys,dressedinsailorsuitswithcapstomatchandthename
H.M.S.Belleisleprintedonboth.ForTommyandJackyCaffreyweretwins,scarcefouryears
old and very noisy and spoiled twins sometimes but for all that darling little fellows with
brightmerryfacesandendearingwaysaboutthem.Theyweredabblinginthesandwiththeir
spades and buckets, building castles as children do, or playing with their bigcolouredball,
happyasthedaywaslong.AndEdyBoardmanwasrockingthechubbybabytoandfrointhe

pushcarwhilethatyounggentlemanfairlychuckledwithdelight.Hewasbutelevenmonths
andninedaysoldand,thoughstillatinytoddler,wasjustbeginningtolisphisfirstbabyish
words.CissyCaffreybentovertohimtoteasehisfatlittleplucksandthedaintydimpleinhis
chin.
Now,baby,CissyCaffreysaid.Sayoutbig,big.Iwantadrinkofwater.
Andbabyprattledafterher:
Ajinkajinkajawbo.
CissyCaffreycuddledtheweechapforshewasawfullyfondofchildren,sopatientwith
littlesufferersandTommyCaffreycouldneverbegottotakehiscastoroilunlessitwasCissy
Caffreythatheldhisnoseandpromisedhimthescattyheeloftheloaforbrownbreadwith
goldensyrupon.Whatapersuasivepowerthatgirlhad!ButtobesurebabyBoardmanwasas
good as gold, a perfect little dote in his new fancy bib. None of your spoilt beauties, Flora
MacFlimsysort,wasCissyCaffrey.Atruerheartedlassneverdrewthebreathoflife,always
with a laugh in her gipsylike eyes and a frolicsome word on her cherryripe red lips, a girl
lovable in the extreme. And Edy Boardman laughed too at the quaint language of little
brother.
ButjustthentherewasaslightaltercationbetweenMasterTommyandMasterJacky.Boys
willbeboysandourtwotwinswerenoexceptiontothis golden rule. The apple of discord
wasacertaincastleofsandwhichMasterJackyhadbuiltandMasterTommywouldhaveit
right go wrong that it was to be architecturally improved by a frontdoor like the Martello
towerhad.ButifMasterTommywasheadstrongMasterJackywasselfwilledtooand,trueto
themaximthateverylittleIrishman'shouseishiscastle,hefelluponhishatedrivalandto
suchpurposethatthewouldbeassailantcametogriefand(alastorelate!)thecovetedcastle
too. Needless to say the cries of discomfited Master Tommy drew the attention of the girl
friends.
Comehere,Tommy,hissistercalledimperatively.Atonce!Andyou,Jacky,forshame
tothrowpoorTommyinthedirtysand.WaittillIcatchyouforthat.
HiseyesmistywithunshedtearsMasterTommycameathercallfortheirbigsister'sword
waslawwiththetwins.Andinasadplighthewastooafterhismisadventure.Hislittleman
o'war top and unmentionables were full of sand but Cissy was a past mistress in the art of
smoothingoverlife'stinytroublesandveryquicklynotonespeckofsandwastobeseenon
hissmartlittlesuit.Stilltheblueeyeswereglisteningwithhottearsthatwouldwellupsoshe
kissedawaythehurtnessandshookherhandatMasterJackytheculpritandsaidifshewas
nearhimshewouldn'tbefarfromhim,hereyesdancinginadmonition.
NastyboldJacky!shecried.
Sheputanarmroundthelittlemarinerandcoaxedwinningly:
What'syourname?Butterandcream?
Telluswhoisyoursweetheart,spokeEdyBoardman.IsCissyyoursweetheart?
Nao,tearfulTommysaid.
IsEdyBoardmanyoursweetheart?Cissyqueried.
Nao,Tommysaid.
Iknow,EdyBoardmansaidnonetooamiablywithanarchglancefromhershortsighted
eyes.IknowwhoisTommy'ssweetheart.GertyisTommy'ssweetheart.
Nao,Tommysaidonthevergeoftears.
Cissy'squickmotherwitguessedwhatwasamissandshewhisperedtoEdyBoardman to
takehimtherebehindthepushcarwherethegentlemancouldn'tseeandtomindhedidn'twet
hisnewtanshoes.
ButwhowasGerty?
Gerty MacDowell who was seated near her companions, lost in thought, gazingfaraway
intothedistancewas,inverytruth,asfairaspecimenofwinsomeIrishgirlhoodasonecould

wishtosee.Shewaspronouncedbeautifulbyallwhoknewherthough,asfolksoftensaid,
shewasmoreaGiltrapthanaMacDowell.Herfigurewasslightandgraceful,incliningeven
tofragilitybutthoseironjelloidsshehadbeentakingoflatehaddone her aworld ofgood
muchbetterthantheWidowWelch'sfemalepillsandshewasmuchbetterofthosedischarges
sheusedtogetandthattiredfeeling.Thewaxenpallorofherfacewasalmostspiritualinits
ivorylikepuritythoughherrosebudmouthwasagenuineCupid'sbow,Greeklyperfect.Her
hands were of finely veined alabaster with tapering fingers and as white as lemonjuice and
queenofointmentscouldmakethemthoughitwasnottruethatsheusedtowearkidglovesin
bedortakeamilkfootbatheither.BerthaSuppletoldthatoncetoEdyBoardman,adeliberate
lie,whenshewasblackoutatdaggersdrawnwithGerty(thegirlchumshadofcoursetheir
littletiffsfromtimetotimeliketherestofmortals)andshetoldhernottoletonwhatevershe
didthatitwasherthattoldherorshe'dneverspeaktoheragain.No.Honourwherehonouris
due. There was an innate refinement, a languid queenly hauteur about Gerty which was
unmistakablyevidencedinherdelicatehandsandhigharchedinstep.Hadkindfatebutwilled
hertobebornagentlewomanofhighdegreeinherownrightandhadsheonlyreceivedthe
benefitofagoodeducationGertyMacDowellmighteasilyhaveheldherownbesideanylady
inthelandandhaveseenherselfexquisitelygownedwithjewelsonher brow and patrician
suitorsatherfeetvyingwithoneanothertopaytheirdevoirstoher.Mayhapitwasthis,the
love that might have been, that lent to her softlyfeatured face at whiles a look, tense with
suppressedmeaning,thatimpartedastrangeyearningtendencytothebeautifuleyes,acharm
few could resist. Why have women such eyes of witchery? Gerty's were of the bluest Irish
blue,setoffbylustrouslashesanddarkexpressivebrows.Timewaswhenthosebrowswere
notsosilkilyseductive.ItwasMadameVeraVerity,directressoftheWomanBeautifulpage
of the Princess Novelette, who had first advised her to try eyebrowleine which gave that
haunting expression to the eyes, so becoming in leaders of fashion, and she had never
regretted it. Then there was blushing scientifically cured and how to be tall increase your
heightandyouhaveabeautifulfacebutyournose?ThatwouldsuitMrsDignambecauseshe
hadabuttonone.ButGerty'scrowningglorywasherwealthofwonderfulhair.Itwasdark
brownwithanaturalwaveinit.Shehadcutitthatverymorningonaccountofthenewmoon
anditnestledaboutherprettyheadinaprofusionofluxuriantclustersandparedhernailstoo,
Thursdayforwealth.AndjustnowatEdy'swordsasatelltaleflush,delicateasthefaintest
rosebloom,creptintohercheeksshelookedsolovely in her sweet girlish shyness that of a
suretyGod'sfairlandofIrelanddidnotholdherequal.
For an instant she was silent with rather sad downcast eyes. She was about to retort but
something checked the words on her tongue. Inclination prompted her to speak out: dignity
toldhertobesilent.Theprettylipspoutedawhilebutthensheglancedupandbrokeoutinto
ajoyouslittlelaughwhichhadinitallthefreshnessofayoungMaymorning.Sheknewright
well,noonebetter,whatmadesquintyEdysaythatbecauseofhimcoolinginhisattentions
whenitwassimplyalovers'quarrel.Asperusualsomebody'snosewasoutofjointaboutthe
boythathadthebicycleofftheLondonbridgeroadalwaysridingupanddowninfrontofher
window.Onlynowhisfatherkepthiminintheeveningsstudyinghardtogetanexhibitionin
theintermediatethatwasonandhewasgoingtogotoTrinitycollegetostudyforadoctor
whenheleftthehighschoollikehisbrotherW.E.Wyliewhowasracinginthebicycleraces
inTrinitycollegeuniversity.Littlereckedheperhapsforwhatshefelt,thatdullachingvoid
inherheartsometimes,piercingtothecore.Yethewasyoungandperchancehemightlearn
toloveherintime.TheywereprotestantsinhisfamilyandofcourseGertyknewWhocame
first and after Him the Blessed Virgin and then Saint Joseph. But he was undeniably
handsome with an exquisite nose and he was what he looked, every inch a gentleman, the
shapeofhisheadtooatthebackwithouthiscaponthatshewouldknowanywheresomething
offthecommonandthewayheturnedthebicycleatthelampwithhishandsoffthebarsand
alsotheniceperfumeofthosegoodcigarettesandbesidestheywerebothofasizetooheand
sheandthatwaswhyEdyBoardmanthoughtshewassofrightfullycleverbecausehedidn't
goandrideupanddowninfrontofherbitofagarden.
GertywasdressedsimplybutwiththeinstinctivetasteofavotaryofDameFashionforshe

feltthattherewasjustamightthathemightbeout.Aneatblouseofelectricblueselftintedby
dollydyes(becauseitwasexpectedintheLady'sPictorialthatelectricbluewouldbeworn)
withasmartveeopeningdowntothedivisionandkerchiefpocket(inwhichshealwayskept
apieceofcottonwoolscentedwithherfavouriteperfumebecausethehandkerchiefspoiledthe
sit) and a navy threequarter skirt cut to the stride showed off her slim graceful figure to
perfection. She wore a coquettish little love of a hat of wideleaved nigger straw contrast
trimmedwithanunderbrimofeggbluechenilleandatthesideabutterflybowofsilktotone.
AllTuesdayweekafternoonshewashuntingtomatchthatchenillebutatlastshefoundwhat
she wanted at Clery's summer sales, the very it, slightly shopsoiled but you would never
notice,sevenfingerstwoandapenny.Shediditupallbyherselfandwhatjoywasherswhen
shetrieditonthen,smilingatthelovelyreflectionwhichthemirrorgavebacktoher!And
whensheputitonthewaterjugtokeeptheshapesheknewthatthatwouldtaketheshineout
ofsomepeoplesheknew.Hershoeswerethenewestthinginfootwear(EdyBoardmanprided
herself thatshe was very petite but she never had a foot like GertyMacDowell,afive,and
never would ash, oak or elm) with patent toecaps and just one smart buckle over her
higharchedinstep.Herwellturnedankledisplayeditsperfectproportionsbeneathherskirtand
just the proper amount and no more of her shapely limbs encased in finespun hose with
highspliced heels and wide garter tops. As for undies they were Gerty's chief care and who
thatknowstheflutteringhopesandfearsofsweetseventeen(thoughGertywouldneversee
seventeenagain)canfinditinhishearttoblameher?Shehadfourdinkysetswithawfully
prettystitchery,threegarmentsandnightiesextra,andeachsetslottedwithdifferentcoloured
ribbons,rosepink,paleblue,mauveandpeagreen,andsheairedthemherselfandbluedthem
whentheycamehomefromthewashandironedthemandshehadabrickbattokeeptheiron
on because she wouldn't trust those washerwomen as far as she'd see them scorching the
things.Shewaswearingtheblueforluck,hopingagainsthope,herowncolourandluckytoo
forabridetohaveabitofbluesomewhereonherbecausethegreensheworethatdayweek
broughtgriefbecausehisfatherbroughthimintostudyfortheintermediateexhibitionand
becauseshethoughtperhapshemightbeoutbecausewhenshewasdressingthatmorningshe
nearlyslippeduptheoldpaironherinsideoutandthatwasforluckandlovers'meetingif
youputthosethingsoninsideoutoriftheygotuntiedthathewasthinkingaboutyousolong
asitwasn'tofaFriday.
Andyetandyet!Thatstrainedlookonherface!Agnawingsorrowisthereallthetime.Her
verysoulisinhereyesandshewouldgiveworldstobeintheprivacyofherownfamiliar
chamber where, giving way to tears, she could have a good cry and relieve her pentup
feelingsthoughnottoomuchbecausesheknewhowtocrynicelybeforethemirror.Youare
lovely,Gerty, it said. The paly light of evening falls upon a face infinitely sad and wistful.
GertyMacDowellyearnsinvain.Yes,shehadknownfromtheveryfirstthatherdaydreamof
a marriage has been arranged and the weddingbells ringing for Mrs Reggy Wylie T. C. D.
(becausetheonewhomarriedtheelderbrotherwouldbeMrsWylie)andinthefashionable
intelligenceMrsGertrudeWyliewaswearingasumptuousconfectionofgreytrimmedwith
expensivebluefoxwasnottobe.Hewastooyoungtounderstand.Hewouldnotbelievein
love, a woman's birthright. The night of the party long ago in Stoer's (he was still in short
trousers)whentheywerealoneandhestoleanarmroundherwaistshewentwhitetothevery
lips.Hecalledherlittleoneinastrangelyhuskyvoiceandsnatchedahalfkiss(thefirst!)but
it was only the end of her nose and then he hastened from the room with a remark about
refreshments.Impetuousfellow!StrengthofcharacterhadneverbeenReggyWylie'sstrong
point and he who would woo and win Gerty MacDowell must be a man among men. But
waiting, always waiting to be asked and it was leap year too and would soon be over. No
prince charming is her beau ideal to lay a rare and wondrous love at her feet but rather a
manly man with a strong quiet face who had not found his ideal, perhaps his hair slightly
flecked with grey, and who would understand, take her in his sheltering arms, strain her to
himinallthestrengthofhisdeeppassionatenatureandcomfortherwithalonglongkiss.It
wouldbelikeheaven.Forsuchaonesheyearnsthisbalmysummereve.Withalltheheartof
hershelongstobehisonly,hisaffiancedbrideforrichesforpoor,insicknessinhealth,till

deathustwopart,fromthistothisdayforward.
AndwhileEdyBoardmanwaswithlittleTommybehindthepushcarshewasjustthinking
wouldthedayevercomewhenshecouldcallherselfhislittlewifetobe.Thentheycouldtalk
abouthertilltheywentblueintheface,BerthaSuppletoo,andEdy,littlespitfire,becauseshe
would be twentytwo in November. She would care for him with creature comforts too for
Gerty was womanly wise and knew that a mere man liked that feeling of hominess. Her
griddlecakes done to a goldenbrown hue and queen Ann's pudding of delightful creaminess
hadwongoldenopinionsfromallbecauseshehadaluckyhandalsoforlightingafire,dredge
in the fine selfraising flour and always stir in the same direction, then cream the milk and
sugarandwhiskwellthewhiteofeggsthoughshedidn'tliketheeatingpartwhentherewere
any people that made her shy and often she wondered why you couldn't eat something
poeticallikevioletsorrosesandtheywouldhaveabeautifullyappointeddrawingroomwith
picturesandengravingsandthephotographofgrandpapaGiltrap'slovelydogGarryowenthat
almost talked it was so human and chintz covers for the chairs and that silver toastrack in
Clery's summer jumble sales like they have in rich houses. He would be tall with broad
shoulders(shehadalwaysadmiredtallmenforahusband)withglisteningwhiteteethunder
his carefully trimmed sweeping moustache and they would go on the continent for their
honeymoon (three wonderful weeks!) and then, when they settled down in a nice snug and
cosylittle homely house, every morningtheywouldbothhavebrekky, simple but perfectly
served,fortheirowntwoselvesandbeforehe went out to business he would give his dear
littlewifeyagoodheartyhugandgazeforamomentdeepdownintohereyes.
EdyBoardmanaskedTommyCaffreywashedoneandhesaidyessothenshebuttonedup
hislittleknickerbockersforhimandtoldhimtorunoffandplaywithJackyandtobegood
nowandnottofight.ButTommysaidhewantedtheballandEdytoldhimnothatbabywas
playingwiththeballandifhetookitthere'dbewigsonthegreenbutTommysaiditwashis
ballandhewantedhisballandheprancedontheground,ifyouplease.Thetemperofhim!
O,hewasamanalreadywaslittleTommyCaffreysincehewasoutofpinnies.Edytoldhim
no,noandtobeoffnowwithhimandshetoldCissyCaffreynottogiveintohim.
You'renotmysister,naughtyTommysaid.It'smyball.
But Cissy Caffrey told baby Boardman to look up, look up high at her finger and she
snatchedtheballquicklyandthrewitalongthesandandTommyafteritinfullcareer,having
wontheday.
Anythingforaquietlife,laughedCiss.
Andshetickledtinytot'stwocheekstomakehimforgetandplayedhere'sthelordmayor,
here's his two horses, here's his gingerbread carriage and here he walks in, chinchopper,
chinchopper,chinchopperchin.ButEdygotascrossastwosticksabouthimgettinghisown
waylikethatfromeveryonealwayspettinghim.
I'dliketogivehimsomething,shesaid,soIwould,whereIwon'tsay.
Onthebeeoteetom,laughedCissymerrily.
Gerty MacDowell bent down her head and crimsoned at the idea of Cissy saying an
unladylikethinglikethatoutloudshe'dbeashamedofherlifetosay,flushingadeeprosy
red,andEdyBoardmansaidshewassurethegentlemanoppositeheardwhatshesaid.Butnot
apincaredCiss.
Lethim!shesaidwithaperttossofherheadandapiquanttiltofhernose.Giveittohim
tooonthesameplaceasquickasI'dlookathim.
Madcap Ciss with her golliwog curls. You had to laugh at her sometimes. For instance
whensheaskedyouwouldyouhavesomemoreChineseteaandjaspberryramandwhenshe
drewthejugstooandthemen'sfacesonhernailswithredinkmakeyousplityoursidesor
whenshewantedtogowhereyouknowshesaidshewantedtorunandpayavisittotheMiss
White.ThatwasjustlikeCissycums.O,andwillyoueverforgethertheeveningshedressed
up in her father's suit and hat and the burned cork moustache and walked down Tritonville
road,smokingacigarette.Therewasnonetocomeuptoherforfun.Butshewassincerity

itself,oneofthebravestandtruestheartsheavenevermade,notoneofyourtwofacedthings,
toosweettobewholesome.
And then there came out upon the air the sound of voices and the pealing anthem of the
organ. It was the men's temperance retreat conducted by the missioner, the reverend John
HughesS.J.,rosary,sermonandbenedictionoftheMostBlessedSacrament.Theywerethere
gatheredtogetherwithoutdistinctionofsocialclass(andamostedifyingspectacleitwasto
see)inthatsimplefanebesidethewaves,afterthestormsofthiswearyworld,kneelingbefore
the feet of the immaculate, reciting the litany of Our Lady of Loreto, beseeching her to
intercedeforthem,theoldfamiliarwords,holyMary,holyvirginofvirgins.Howsadtopoor
Gerty's ears! Had her father only avoided the clutches of the demon drink, by taking the
pledgeorthosepowdersthedrinkhabitcuredinPearson'sWeekly,shemightnowberolling
inhercarriage,secondtonone.Overandoverhadshetoldherselfthatasshemusedbythe
dyingembersinabrownstudywithoutthelampbecauseshehatedtwolightsoroftentimes
gazing out of the window dreamily by the hour at the rain falling on the rusty bucket,
thinking. But that vile decoction which has ruined so many hearths and homes had cist its
shadow over her childhood days. Nay, she had even witnessed in the home circle deeds of
violence caused by intemperance and had seen her own father, a prey to the fumes of
intoxication,forgethimselfcompletelyforiftherewasonethingofallthingsthatGertyknew
itwasthatthemanwholiftshishandtoawomansaveinthewayofkindness,deservestobe
brandedasthelowestofthelow.
AndstillthevoicessanginsupplicationtotheVirginmostpowerful,Virginmostmerciful.
AndGerty,raptinthought,scarcesaworheardhercompanionsorthetwinsattheirboyish
gambolsorthegentlemanoffSandymountgreenthatCissyCaffreycalledthemanthatwasso
like himself passing along the strand taking a short walk. You never saw him any way
screwedbutstillandforallthatshewouldnotlikehimforafatherbecausehewastoooldor
somethingoronaccountofhisface(itwasapalpablecaseofDoctorFell)orhiscarbuncly
nosewiththepimplesonitandhissandymoustacheabitwhiteunderhisnose.Poorfather!
WithallhisfaultsshelovedhimstillwhenhesangTellme,Mary,howtowoothee or My
loveandcottagenearRochelleandtheyhadstewedcocklesandlettucewithLazenby'ssalad
dressing for supper and when he sang The moon hath raised with Mr Dignam that died
suddenlyandwasburied,Godhavemercyonhim,fromastroke.Hermother'sbirthdaythat
wasandCharleywashomeonhisholidaysandTomandMrDignamandMrsandPatsyand
FreddyDignamandtheyweretohavehadagrouptaken.Noonewouldhavethoughttheend
wassonear.Nowhewaslaidtorest.Andhermothersaidtohimtoletthatbeawarningto
himfortherestofhisdaysandhecouldn'tevengotothefuneralonaccountofthegoutand
shehadtogointotowntobringhimthelettersandsamplesfromhisofficeaboutCatesby's
corklino,artistic,standarddesigns,fitforapalace,givestiptopwearandalwaysbrightand
cheeryinthehome.
AsterlinggooddaughterwasGertyjustlikeasecondmotherinthehouse,aministering
angeltoowithalittleheartworthitsweightingold.Andwhenhermotherhadthoseraging
splittingheadacheswhowasitrubbedthementholconeonherforeheadbutGertythoughshe
didn'tlikehermother'stakingpinchesofsnuffandthatwastheonlysinglethingtheyever
hadwordsabout,takingsnuff.Everyonethoughttheworldofherforhergentleways.Itwas
GertywhoturnedoffthegasatthemaineverynightanditwasGertywhotackeduponthe
wallofthatplacewheresheneverforgoteveryfortnightthechlorateoflimeMrTunneythe
grocer's christmas almanac, the picture of halcyon days where a young gentleman in the
costumetheyusedtowearthenwithathreecorneredhatwasofferingabunchofflowersto
his ladylove with oldtime chivalry through her lattice window. You could see there was a
storybehindit.Thecoloursweredonesomethinglovely.Shewasinasoftclingingwhiteina
studiedattitudeandthegentlemanwasinchocolateandhelookedathorougharistocrat.She
often looked at them dreamily when she went there for a certain purpose and felt her own
arms that were white and soft just like hers with the sleeves back and thought about those
times because she had found out in Walker's pronouncing dictionary that belonged to

grandpapaGiltrapaboutthehalcyondayswhattheymeant.
ThetwinswerenowplayinginthemostapprovedbrotherlyfashiontillatlastMasterJacky
whowasreallyasboldasbrasstherewasnogettingbehindthatdeliberatelykickedtheballas
hardaseverhecoulddowntowardstheseaweedyrocks.NeedlesstosaypoorTommywas
not slow to voice his dismay but luckily the gentleman in black who was sitting there by
himself came gallantly to the rescue and intercepted the ball. Our two champions claimed
theirplaythingwithlustycriesandtoavoidtroubleCissyCaffreycalledtothegentlemanto
throwittoherplease.Thegentlemanaimedtheballonceortwiceandthenthrewitupthe
strandtowardsCissyCaffreybutitrolleddowntheslopeandstoppedrightunderGerty'sskirt
nearthelittlepoolbytherock.ThetwinsclamouredagainforitandCissytoldhertokickit
away and let them fight for it so Gerty drew back her foot but she wished their stupid ball
hadn't come rolling down to her and she gave a kick but she missed and Edy and Cissy
laughed.
Ifyoufailtryagain,EdyBoardmansaid.
Gertysmiledassentandbitherlip.Adelicatepinkcreptintoherprettycheekbutshewas
determinedtoletthemseesoshejustliftedherskirtalittlebutjustenoughandtookgoodaim
and gave the ball a jolly good kick and it went ever so far and the two twins after it down
towardstheshingle.Purejealousyofcourseitwasnothingelsetodrawattentiononaccount
ofthegentlemanoppositelooking.Shefeltthewarmflush,adangersignalalwayswithGerty
MacDowell,surgingandflamingintohercheeks.Tillthentheyhadonlyexchangedglances
ofthemostcasualbutnowunderthebrimofhernewhatsheventuredalookathimandthe
face that met her gaze there in the twilight, wan and strangely drawn, seemed to her the
saddestshehadeverseen.
Through the open window of the church the fragrant incense was wafted and with it the
fragrantnamesofherwhowasconceivedwithoutstainoforiginalsin,spiritualvessel,pray
forus,honourablevessel,prayforus,vesselofsingulardevotion,prayforus,mysticalrose.
Andcarewornheartswerethereandtoilersfortheirdailybreadandmanywhohaderredand
wandered, their eyes wet with contrition but for all that bright with hope for the reverend
fatherFatherHugheshadtoldthemwhatthegreatsaintBernardsaidinhisfamousprayerof
Mary, the most pious Virgin's intercessory power that it was not recorded in any age that
thosewhoimploredherpowerfulprotectionwereeverabandonedbyher.
The twins were now playing again right merrily for the troubles of childhood are but as
fleetingsummershowers.CissyCaffreyplayedwithbabyBoardmantillhecrowedwithglee,
clapping baby hands in air. Peep she cried behind the hood of the pushcar and Edy asked
wherewasCissygoneandthenCissypoppedupherheadandcriedah!and,myword,didn't
thelittlechapenjoythat!Andthenshetoldhimtosaypapa.
Saypapa,baby.Saypapapapapapapa.
Andbabydidhislevelbesttosayitforhewasveryintelligentforelevenmonthseveryone
saidandbigforhisageandthepictureofhealth,aperfectlittlebunchoflove,andhewould
certainlyturnouttobesomethinggreat,theysaid.
Hajajajahaja.
Cissywipedhislittlemouthwiththedribblingbibandwantedhimtositupproperlyand
saypapapabutwhensheundidthestrapshecriedout,holysaintDenis,thathewaspossing
wetandtodoublethehalfblankettheotherwayunderhim.Ofcoursehisinfantmajestywas
mostobstreperousatsuchtoiletformalitiesandheleteveryoneknowit:
Habaabaaaahabaaabaaaa.
Andtwogreatbiglovelybigtearscoursingdownhischeeks.Itwasallnousesoothering
himwithno,nono,baby,noandtellinghimaboutthegeegeeandwherewasthepuffpuffbut
Ciss,alwaysreadywitted,gavehiminhismouththeteatofthesuckingbottleandtheyoung
heathenwasquicklyappeased.
Gertywishedtogoodnesstheywouldtaketheirsquallingbabyhomeoutofthatandnotget

onhernerves,nohourtobeout,andthelittlebratsoftwins.Shegazedouttowardsthedistant
sea.Itwaslikethepaintingsthatmanusedtodoonthepavementwithallthecolouredchalks
andsuchapitytooleavingthemtheretobeallblottedout,theeveningandthecloudscoming
outandtheBaileylightonHowthandtohearthemusiclikethat andthe perfume ofthose
incense they burned in the church like a kind of waft. And while she gazed her heart went
pitapat.Yes,itwasherhewaslookingat,andtherewasmeaninginhislook.Hiseyesburned
intoherasthoughtheywouldsearchherthroughandthrough,readherverysoul.Wonderful
eyes they were, superbly expressive, but could you trust them? People were so queer. She
couldseeatoncebyhisdarkeyesandhispaleintellectualfacethathewasaforeigner,the
imageofthephotoshehadofMartinHarvey,thematineeidol,onlyforthemoustachewhich
shepreferredbecauseshewasn'tstagestrucklikeWinnyRippinghamthatwantedtheytwoto
alwaysdressthesameonaccountofaplaybutshecouldnotseewhetherhehadanaquiline
noseoraslightlyretroussfromwherehewassitting.Hewasindeepmourning,shecould
seethat,andthestory of a haunting sorrow was written on his face. She would have given
worldstoknowwhatitwas.Hewaslookingupsointently,sostill,andhesawherkickthe
ballandperhapshecouldseethebrightsteelbucklesofhershoesifsheswungthemlikethat
thoughtfully with the toes down. She was glad that something told her to put on the
transparentstockingsthinkingReggyWyliemightbeoutbutthatwasfaraway.Herewasthat
ofwhich she had so often dreamed. It was he who mattered and there was joy onherface
becauseshewantedhimbecauseshefeltinstinctivelythathewaslikenooneelse.Thevery
heartofthegirlwomanwentouttohim,herdreamhusband,becausesheknewontheinstantit
washim.Ifhehadsuffered,moresinnedagainstthansinning,oreven,even,ifhehadbeen
himselfasinner,awickedman,shecarednot.Evenifhewasaprotestantormethodistshe
couldconverthimeasilyifhetrulylovedher.Therewerewoundsthatwantedhealingwith
heartbalm.Shewasawomanlywomannotlikeotherflightygirlsunfemininehehadknown,
thosecyclistsshowingoffwhattheyhadn'tgotandshejustyearnedtoknowall,toforgiveall
ifshecouldmakehimfallinlovewithher,makehimforgetthememoryof the past.Then
mayhaphewouldembracehergently,likearealman,crushinghersoftbodytohim,andlove
her,hisownestgirlie,forherselfalone.
Refugeofsinners.Comfortressoftheafflicted.Orapronobis.Well has it been saidthat
whosoeverpraystoherwithfaithandconstancycanneverbelostorcastaway:andfitlyis
shetooahavenofrefugefortheafflictedbecauseofthesevendolourswhichtranspiercedher
own heart. Gerty could picture the whole scene in the church, the stained glass windows
lightedup,thecandles,theflowersandthebluebannersoftheblessedVirgin'ssodalityand
FatherConroywashelpingCanonO'Hanlonatthealtar,carryingthingsinandoutwithhis
eyescastdown.Helookedalmostasaintandhisconfessionboxwassoquietandcleanand
darkandhishandswerejustlikewhitewaxandifevershebecameaDominicannunintheir
whitehabitperhapshemightcometotheconventforthenovenaofSaintDominic.Hetold
herthattimewhenshetoldhimaboutthatinconfession,crimsoninguptotherootsofherhair
forfearhecouldsee,nottobetroubledbecausethatwasonlythevoiceofnatureandwewere
allsubjecttonature'slaws,hesaid,inthislifeandthatthatwasnosinbecausethatcamefrom
thenatureofwomaninstitutedbyGod,hesaid,andthatOurBlessedLadyherselfsaidtothe
archangelGabrielbeitdoneuntomeaccordingtoThyWord.Hewassokindandholyand
oftenandoftenshethoughtandthoughtcouldsheworkaruchedteacosywithembroidered
floral design for him as a present or a clock but they had a clock she noticed on the
mantelpiecewhiteandgoldwithacanarybirdthatcameoutofalittlehousetotellthetime
thedayshewentthereabouttheflowersforthefortyhours'adorationbecauseitwashardto
know what sort of a present to give or perhaps an album of illuminatedviewsofDublinor
someplace.
The exasperating little brats of twins began to quarrel again and Jacky threw the ball out
towards the sea and they both ran after it. Little monkeys common as ditchwater. Someone
oughttotakethemandgivethemagoodhidingforthemselvestokeepthemintheirplaces,
the both of them. And Cissy and Edy shouted after them to come back because they were
afraidthetidemightcomeinonthemandbedrowned.

Jacky!Tommy!
Notthey!Whatagreatnotiontheyhad!SoCissysaiditwastheverylasttimeshe'dever
bringthemout.Shejumpedupandcalledthemandsherandowntheslopepasthim,tossing
herhairbehindherwhichhadagoodenoughcolouriftherehadbeenmoreofitbutwithall
the thingamerry she was always rubbing into it she couldn't get it to grow long because it
wasn'tnaturalsoshecouldjustgoandthrowherhatatit.Sheranwithlongganderystridesit
wasawondershedidn'tripupherskirtatthesidethatwastootightonherbecausetherewas
alotofthetomboyaboutCissyCaffreyandshewasaforwardpiecewhenevershethought
shehadagoodopportunitytoshowandjustbecauseshewasagoodrunnersheranlikethat
so that he could see all the end of her petticoat running and her skinny shanks up as far as
possible.Itwouldhaveservedherjustrightifshehadtrippedupoversomethingaccidentally
on purpose with her high crooked French heels on her to make her look tall and got a fine
tumble.Tableau!Thatwouldhavebeenaverycharmingexposeforagentlemanlikethatto
witness.
Queenofangels,queenofpatriarchs,queenofprophets,ofallsaints,theyprayed,queenof
themostholyrosaryandthenFatherConroyhandedthethuribletoCanonO'Hanlonandhe
putintheincenseandcensedtheBlessedSacramentandCissyCaffreycaughtthetwotwins
and she was itching to give them a ringing good clip on the ear but she didn't because she
thought he might be watching but she never made a bigger mistake in all her life because
Gerty could see without looking that he never took his eyes off of her and then Canon
O'HanlonhandedthethuriblebacktoFatherConroyandkneltdownlookingupattheBlessed
SacramentandthechoirbegantosingtheTantumergoandshejustswungherfootinandout
in time as the music rose and fell to the Tantumer gosa cramen tum. Three and eleven she
paidforthosestockingsinSparrow'sofGeorge'sstreetontheTuesday,notheMondaybefore
Easterandtherewasn'tabrackonthemandthatwaswhathewaslookingat,transparent,and
notatherinsignificantonesthathadneithershapenorform(thecheekofher!)becausehehad
eyesinhisheadtoseethedifferenceforhimself.
Cissycameupalongthestrandwiththetwotwinsandtheirballwithherhatanyhowon
her to one side after her run and she did look a streel tugging the two kids along with the
flimsy blouse she bought only a fortnight before like a rag on her back and a bit of her
petticoathanginglikeacaricature.Gertyjusttookoffherhatforamomenttosettleherhair
and a prettier, a daintier head of nutbrown tresses was never seen on a girl's shouldersa
radiant little vision, in sooth, almost maddening in its sweetness. You would have to travel
manyalongmilebeforeyoufoundaheadofhairthelikeofthat.Shecouldalmostseethe
swiftansweringflashofadmirationinhiseyesthatsethertinglingineverynerve.Sheputon
herhatsothatshecouldseefromunderneaththebrimandswungherbuckledshoefasterfor
herbreathcaughtasshecaughttheexpressioninhiseyes.Hewaseyingherasasnakeeyes
itsprey.Herwoman'sinstincttoldherthatshehadraisedthedevilinhimandatthethoughta
burningscarletsweptfromthroattobrowtillthelovelycolourofherfacebecameaglorious
rose.
EdyBoardmanwasnoticingittoobecauseshewassquintingatGerty,halfsmiling,with
her specs like an old maid, pretending to nurse the baby. Irritable little gnat she was and
alwayswouldbeandthatwaswhynoonecouldgetonwithherpokinghernoseintowhat
wasnoconcernofhers.AndshesaidtoGerty:
Apennyforyourthoughts.
What? replied Gerty with a smile reinforced by the whitest of teeth. I was only
wonderingwasitlate.
Becauseshewishedtogoodnessthey'dtakethesnottynosedtwinsandtheirbabbyhometo
themischiefoutofthatsothatwaswhyshejustgaveagentlehintaboutitsbeinglate.And
whenCissycameupEdyaskedherthetimeandMissCissy,asglibasyoulike,saiditwas
halfpastkissingtime,timetokissagain.ButEdywantedtoknowbecausetheyweretoldto
beinearly.

Wait,saidCissy,I'llrunaskmyunclePeterovertherewhat'sthetimebyhisconundrum.
Soovershewentandwhenhesawhercomingshecouldseehimtakehishandoutofhis
pocket,gettingnervous,andbeginningtoplaywithhiswatchchain,lookingupatthechurch.
PassionatenaturethoughhewasGertycouldseethathehadenormouscontroloverhimself.
Onemomenthehadbeenthere,fascinatedbyalovelinessthatmadehimgaze,andthenext
moment it was the quiet gravefaced gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every line of his
distinguishedlookingfigure.
CissysaidtoexcuseherwouldhemindpleasetellingherwhatwastherighttimeandGerty
couldseehimtakingouthiswatch,listeningtoitandlookingupandclearinghisthroatand
hesaidhewasverysorryhiswatchwasstoppedbuthethoughtitmustbeaftereightbecause
thesunwasset.Hisvoicehadaculturedringinitandthoughhespokeinmeasuredaccents
therewasasuspicionofaquiverinthemellowtones.Cissysaidthanksandcamebackwith
hertongueoutandsaidunclesaidhiswaterworkswereoutoforder.
ThentheysangthesecondverseoftheTantumergoandCanonO'Hanlongotupagainand
censed the Blessed Sacrament and knelt down and he told Father Conroy that one of the
candleswasjustgoingtosetfireto the flowers and Father Conroy got up and settled it all
rightandshecouldseethegentlemanwindinghiswatchandlisteningtotheworksandshe
swung her leg more in and out in time. It was getting darker but he could see and he was
lookingallthetimethathewaswindingthewatchorwhateverhewasdoingtoitandthenhe
putitbackandputhishandsbackintohispockets.Shefeltakindofasensationrushingall
over her and she knew by the feel of her scalp and that irritation against her stays thatthat
thingmustbecomingonbecausethelasttimetoowaswhensheclippedherhaironaccount
of the moon. His dark eyes fixed themselves on her again drinking in her every contour,
literally worshipping at her shrine. If ever there was undisguised admiration in a man's
passionate gaze it was there plain to be seen on that man's face. It is for you, Gertrude
MacDowell,andyouknowit.
EdybegantogetreadytogoanditwashightimeforherandGertynoticedthatthatlittle
hintshegavehadhadthedesiredeffectbecauseitwasalongwayalongthestrandtowhere
therewastheplacetopushupthepushcarandCissytookoffthetwins'capsandtidiedtheir
hairtomakeherselfattractiveofcourseandCanonO'Hanlonstoodupwithhiscopepoking
upathisneckandFatherConroyhandedhimthecardtoreadoffandhereadoutPanemde
coelopraestitistieisandEdyandCissyweretalkingaboutthetimeallthetimeandaskingher
but Gerty could pay them back in their own coin and she just answered with scathing
politeness when Edy asked her was she heartbroken about her best boy throwing her over.
Gerty winced sharply. A brief cold blaze shone from her eyes that spoke volumes of scorn
immeasurable.IthurtOyes,itcutdeepbecauseEdyhadherownquietwayofsayingthings
like that she knew would wound like the confounded little cat she was. Gerty's lips parted
swiftly to frame the word but she fought back the sob that rose to her throat, so slim, so
flawless,sobeautifullymouldeditseemedoneanartistmighthavedreamedof.Shehadloved
him better than he knew. Lighthearted deceiver and fickle like all his sex he would never
understand what he had meant to her and for an instant there was in the blue eyes a quick
stingingoftears.Theireyeswereprobinghermercilesslybutwithabraveeffortshesparkled
backinsympathyassheglancedathernewconquestforthemtosee.
O,respondedGerty,quickaslightning,laughing,andtheproudheadflashedup.Ican
throwmycapatwhoIlikebecauseit'sleapyear.
Herwordsrangoutcrystalclear,moremusicalthanthecooingoftheringdove,buttheycut
the silence icily. There was that in her young voice that told that she was not a one to be
lightlytrifledwith.AsforMrReggywithhisswankandhisbitofmoneyshecouldjustchuck
him aside as if he was so much filth and never again would she cast as much as a second
thoughtonhimandtearhissillypostcardintoadozenpieces.Andifeverafterhedaredto
presumeshecouldgivehimonelookofmeasuredscornthatwouldmakehimshrivelupon
thespot.MisspunylittleEdy'scountenancefelltonoslightextentandGertycouldseebyher
lookingasblackasthunderthatshewassimplyinatoweringragethoughshehidit,thelittle

kinnatt,becausethatshafthadstruckhomeforherpettyjealousyandtheybothknewthatshe
wassomethingaloof,apart,inanothersphere,thatshewasnotofthemandneverwouldbe
andtherewassomebodyelsetoothatknewitandsawitsotheycouldputthatintheirpipe
andsmokeit.
EdystraightenedupbabyBoardmantogetreadytogoandCissytuckedintheballandthe
spadesandbucketsanditwashightimetoobecausethesandmanwasonhiswayforMaster
Boardmanjunior.AndCissytoldhimtoothatbillywinkswascomingandthatbabywasto
go deedaw and baby looked just too ducky, laughing up out of his gleeful eyes, and Cissy
pokedhimlikethatoutoffuninhisweefattummyandbaby,withoutasmuchasbyyour
leave,sentuphiscomplimentstoallandsundryontohisbrandnewdribblingbib.
Omy!Puddenypie!protestedCiss.Hehashisbibdestroyed.
The slight contretemps claimed her attention but in two twos she set that little matter to
rights.
GertystifledasmotheredexclamationandgaveanervouscoughandEdyaskedwhatand
shewasjustgoingtotellhertocatchitwhileitwasflyingbutshewaseverladylikeinher
deportment so she simply passed it off with consummate tact by saying that that was the
benediction because just then the bell rang out from the steeple over the quiet seashore
becauseCanonO'HanlonwasuponthealtarwiththeveilthatFatherConroyputroundhis
shouldersgivingthebenedictionwiththeBlessedSacramentinhishands.
Howmovingthescenethereinthegatheringtwilight,thelastglimpseofErin,thetouching
chime of those evening bells and at the same time a bat flew forth from the ivied belfry
throughthedusk,hither,thither,withatinylostcry.Andshecouldseefarawaythelightsof
thelighthousessopicturesqueshewouldhavelovedtodowithaboxofpaintsbecauseitwas
easier than to make a man and soon the lamplighter would be going his rounds past the
presbyterianchurchgroundsandalongbyshadyTritonvilleavenuewherethecoupleswalked
andlightingthelampnearherwindowwhereReggyWylieusedtoturnhisfreewheellikeshe
read in that book The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other
tales.ForGertyhadherdreamsthatnooneknewof.Shelovedtoreadpoetryandwhenshe
gotakeepsakefromBerthaSuppleofthatlovelyconfessionalbumwiththecoralpinkcover
towriteherthoughtsinshelaiditinthedrawerofhertoilettablewhich,thoughitdidnoterr
on the side of luxury, was scrupulously neat and clean. It was there she kept her girlish
treasure trove, the tortoiseshell combs, her child of Mary badge, the whiterose scent, the
eyebrowleine, her alabaster pouncetbox and the ribbons to change when her things came
homefromthewashandthereweresomebeautifulthoughtswritteninitinvioletinkthatshe
boughtinHely'sofDameStreetforshefeltthatshetoocouldwritepoetryifshecouldonly
express herselflike that poem thatappealedtoher sodeeplythatshehadcopiedoutofthe
newspapershefoundoneeveningroundthepotherbs.Artthoureal,myideal?itwascalled
byLouisJWalsh,Magherafelt,andaftertherewassomethingabouttwilight,wiltthouever?
andofttimesthebeautyofpoetry,sosadinitstransientloveliness,hadmistedhereyeswith
silenttearsforshefeltthattheyearswereslippingbyforher,onebyone,andbutforthatone
shortcomingsheknewsheneedfearnocompetitionandthatwasanaccidentcoming down
Dalkeyhillandshealwaystriedtoconcealit.Butitmustend,shefelt.Ifshesawthatmagic
lureinhiseyestherewouldbenoholdingbackforher.Lovelaughsatlocksmiths.Shewould
make the great sacrifice. Her every effort would be to share his thoughts. Dearer than the
wholeworldwouldshebetohimandgildhisdayswithhappiness.Therewastheallimportant
questionandshewasdyingtoknowwasheamarriedmanorawidowerwhohadlosthiswife
orsometragedylikethenoblemanwiththeforeignnamefromthelandofsonghadtohave
herputintoamadhouse,cruelonlytobekind.Butevenifwhatthen?Woulditmakeavery
great difference? From everything in the least indelicate her finebred nature instinctively
recoiled. She loathed that sort of person, the fallen women off the accommodation walk
beside the Dodder that went with the soldiers and coarse men with no respect for a girl's
honour, degrading the sex and being taken up to the police station. No, no: not that. They
wouldbejustgoodfriendslikeabigbrotherandsisterwithoutallthatotherinspiteofthe

conventions of Society with a big ess. Perhaps it was an old flame he was in mourning for
from the days beyond recall. She thought she understood. She would try to understand him
because men were so different. The old love was waiting, waiting with little white hands
stretchedout,withblueappealingeyes.Heartofmine!Shewouldfollow,herdreamoflove,
thedictatesofherheartthattoldherhewasherallinall,theonlymaninalltheworldforher
forlovewasthemasterguide.Nothingelsemattered.Comewhatmightshewouldbewild,
untrammelled,free.
Canon O'Hanlon put the Blessed Sacrament back into the tabernacle and genuflectedand
the choir sang Laudate Dominum omnes gentes and then he locked the tabernacle door
because the benediction was over and Father Conroy handed him his hat to put on and
crosscatEdyaskedwasn'tshecomingbutJackyCaffreycalledout:
O,look,Cissy!
AndtheyalllookedwasitsheetlightningbutTommysawittoooverthetreesbesidethe
church,blueandthengreenandpurple.
It'sfireworks,CissyCaffreysaid.
Andtheyallrandownthestrandtoseeoverthehousesandthechurch,helterskelter,Edy
withthepushcarwithbabyBoardmaninitandCissyholdingTommyandJackybythehand
sotheywouldn'tfallrunning.
Comeon,Gerty,Cissycalled.It'sthebazaarfireworks.
ButGertywasadamant.Shehadnointentionofbeingattheirbeckandcall.Iftheycould
runlikerossiesshecouldsitsoshesaidshecouldseefromwhereshewas.Theeyesthatwere
fastenedupon her set her pulses tingling. Shelooked athima moment, meetinghis glance,
andalightbrokeinuponher.Whitehotpassionwasinthatface,passionsilentasthegrave,
andithadmadeherhis.Atlasttheywereleftalonewithouttheotherstopryandpassremarks
andsheknewhecouldbetrustedtothedeath,steadfast,asterlingman,amanofinflexible
honourtohisfingertips.Hishandsandfacewereworkingandatremourwentoverher.She
leanedbackfartolookupwherethefireworkswereandshecaughtherkneeinherhandsso
asnottofallbacklookingupandtherewasnoonetoseeonlyhimandherwhensherevealed
allhergracefulbeautifullyshapedlegslikethat,supplysoftanddelicatelyrounded,andshe
seemedtohearthepantingofhisheart,hishoarsebreathing,becausesheknewtooaboutthe
passionofmenlikethat,hotblooded,becauseBerthaSuppletoldheronceindeadsecretand
madeherswearshe'dneveraboutthegentlemanlodgerthatwasstayingwiththemoutofthe
Congested Districts Board that had pictures cut out of papers of those skirtdancers and
highkickers and she said he used to do something not very nice that you could imagine
sometimesin the bed. But this was altogether different from a thing like that because there
was all the difference because she could almost feel him draw her face to his and the first
quickhottouchofhishandsomelips.Besidestherewasabsolutionsolongasyoudidn'tdo
the other thing before being married and there ought to be women priests that would
understandwithoutyourtellingoutandCissyCaffreytoosometimeshadthatdreamykindof
dreamy look in her eyes so that she too, my dear, and Winny Rippingham so mad about
actors'photographsandbesidesitwasonaccountofthatotherthingcomingonthewayitdid.
AndJackyCaffreyshoutedtolook,therewasanotherandsheleanedbackandthegarters
werebluetomatchonaccountofthetransparentandtheyallsawitandtheyallshoutedto
look, look, there it was and she leaned backeversofartoseethefireworksandsomething
queer was flying through the air, a soft thing, to and fro, dark. And she saw a long Roman
candle going up over the trees, up,up, and, in thetense hush,they wereall breathless with
excitementasitwenthigherandhigherandshehadtoleanbackmoreandmoretolookup
afterit,high,high,almostoutofsight,andherfacewassuffusedwithadivine,anentrancing
blushfromstrainingbackandhecouldseeherotherthingstoo,nainsookknickers,thefabric
that caresses the skin, better than those other pettiwidth, the green, four and eleven, on
accountofbeingwhiteandshelethimandshesawthathesawandthenitwentsohighit
wentoutofsightamomentandshewastremblingineverylimbfrombeingbentsofarback

thathehadafullviewhighupaboveherkneewherenooneevernotevenontheswingor
wadingandshewasn'tashamedandhewasn'teithertolookinthatimmodest way like that
because he couldn't resist the sight of the wondrous revealment half offered like those
skirtdancersbehavingsoimmodestbeforegentlemenlookingandhekeptonlooking,looking.
Shewouldfainhavecriedtohimchokingly,heldouthersnowyslenderarmstohimtocome,
to feel his lips laid on her white brow, the cry of a young girl's love, a little strangled cry,
wrungfromher,thatcrythathasrungthroughtheages.Andthenarocketsprangandbang
shotblindblankandO!thentheRomancandleburstanditwaslikeasighofO!andeveryone
criedO!O!inrapturesanditgushedoutofitastreamofraingoldhairthreadsandtheyshed
andah!theywereallgreenydewystarsfallingwithgolden,Osolovely,O,soft,sweet,soft!
Thenallmeltedawaydewilyinthegreyair:allwassilent.Ah!Sheglancedathimasshe
bentforwardquickly,apatheticlittleglanceofpiteousprotest,ofshyreproachunderwhich
hecolouredlikeagirlHewasleaningbackagainsttherockbehind.LeopoldBloom(foritis
he)stands silent, with bowed head before those young guileless eyes. What a brute he had
been!Atitagain?Afairunsulliedsoulhadcalledtohimand,wretchthathewas,howhadhe
answered?Anuttercadhehadbeen!Heofallmen!Buttherewasaninfinitestoreofmercy
in those eyes, for him too a word of pardon even though he had erred and sinned and
wandered.Shouldagirltell?No,athousandtimesno.Thatwastheirsecret,onlytheirs,alone
inthehidingtwilightandtherewasnonetoknowortellsavethelittlebatthatflewsosoftly
throughtheeveningtoandfroandlittlebatsdon'ttell.
CissyCaffreywhistled,imitatingtheboysinthefootballfieldtoshowwhatagreatperson
shewas:andthenshecried:
Gerty!Gerty!We'regoing.Comeon.Wecanseefromfartherup.
Gertyhadanidea,oneoflove'slittleruses.Sheslippedahandintoherkerchiefpocketand
took out the wadding and waved in reply of course without letting him and then slipped it
back.Wonderifhe'stoofarto.Sherose.Wasitgoodbye?No.Shehadtogobuttheywould
meetagain,there,andshewoulddreamofthattillthen,tomorrow,ofherdreamofyestereve.
Shedrewherselfuptoherfullheight.Theirsoulsmetinalastlingeringglanceandtheeyes
thatreachedherheart,fullofastrangeshining,hungenrapturedonhersweetflowerlikeface.
Shehalfsmiledathimwanly,asweetforgivingsmile,asmilethatvergedontears,andthen
theyparted.
Slowly,withoutlookingbackshewentdowntheunevenstrandtoCissy,toEdytoJacky
andTommyCaffrey,tolittlebabyBoardman.Itwasdarkernowandtherewerestonesand
bits of wood on the strand and slippy seaweed. She walked with a certain quiet dignity
characteristicofherbutwithcareandveryslowlybecausebecauseGertyMacDowellwas...
Tightboots?No.She'slame!O!
MrBloomwatchedherasshelimpedaway.Poorgirl!That'swhyshe'sleftontheshelfand
theothersdidasprint.Thoughtsomethingwaswrongbythecutofherjib.Jiltedbeauty.A
defectistentimesworseinawoman.Butmakesthempolite.GladIdidn'tknowitwhenshe
wasonshow.Hotlittledevilallthesame.Iwouldn'tmind.Curiositylikeanunoranegress
oragirlwithglasses.Thatsquintyoneisdelicate.Nearhermonthlies,Iexpect,makesthem
feelticklish.Ihavesuchabadheadachetoday.WheredidIputtheletter?Yes,allright.All
kindsofcrazylongings.Lickingpennies.GirlinTranquillaconventthatnuntoldmelikedto
smellrockoil.VirginsgomadintheendIsuppose.Sister?HowmanywomeninDublinhave
ittoday?Martha,she.Somethingintheair.That'sthemoon.Butthenwhydon'tallwomen
menstruate at the same time with the same moon, I mean? Depends on the time they were
bornIsuppose.Orallstartscratchthengetoutofstep.SometimesMollyandMillytogether.
AnyhowIgotthebestofthat.DamnedgladIdidn'tdoitinthebaththismorningoverher
sillyIwillpunishyouletter.Madeupforthattramdriverthismorning.ThatgougerM'Coy
stopping me to say nothing. And his wife engagement in the country valise, voice like a
pickaxe.Thankfulforsmallmercies.Cheaptoo.Yoursfortheasking.Because they want it
themselves. Their natural craving. Shoals of them every evening poured out of offices.

Reserve better. Don't want it they throw it at you. Catch em alive, O. Pity they can't see
themselves. A dream of wellfilled hose. Where was that? Ah, yes. Mutoscope pictures in
Capelstreet:formenonly.PeepingTom.Willy'shatandwhatthegirlsdidwithit.Dothey
snapshot those girls or is it all a fake? Lingerie does it. Felt for the curves inside her
deshabill. Excites them also when they're. I'm all clean come and dirty me. And they like
dressingoneanotherforthesacrifice.MillydelightedwithMolly'snewblouse.Atfirst.Put
themallontotakethemalloff.Molly.WhyIboughtherthevioletgarters.Ustoo:thetiehe
wore,hislovelysocksandturneduptrousers.Heworeapairofgaitersthenightthatfirstwe
met.Hislovelyshirtwasshiningbeneathhiswhat?ofjet.Sayawomanlosesacharmwith
everypinshetakesout.Pinnedtogether.O,Mairylostthepinofher.Dresseduptothenines
for somebody. Fashion part of their charm. Just changes when you're on the track of the
secret.Excepttheeast:Mary,Martha:nowasthen.Noreasonableofferrefused.Shewasn'tin
ahurryeither.Alwaysofftoafellowwhentheyare.Theyneverforgetanappointment.Out
onspecprobably.Theybelieveinchancebecauselikethemselves.Andtheothersinclinedto
giveheranodddig.Girlfriendsatschool,armsroundeachother'snecksorwithtenfingers
locked, kissing and whispering secrets about nothing in the convent garden. Nuns with
whitewashedfaces,coolcoifsandtheirrosariesgoingupanddown,vindictivetooforwhat
theycan'tget.Barbedwire.Besurenowandwritetome.AndI'llwritetoyou.Nowwon't
you? Molly and Josie Powell. Till Mr Right comes along, then meet once in a blue moon.
Tableau!O,lookwhoitisfortheloveofGod!Howareyouatall?Whathaveyoubeendoing
with yourself? Kiss and delighted to, kiss, to see you. Picking holes in each other's
appearance. You're looking splendid. Sister souls. Showing their teeth at one another. How
manyhaveyouleft?Wouldn'tlendeachotherapinchofsalt.
Ah!
Devilstheyarewhenthat'scomingonthem.Darkdevilishappearance.Mollyoftentoldme
feelthingsatonweight.Scratchthesoleofmyfoot.Othatway!O,that'sexquisite!Feelit
myselftoo.Goodtorestonceinaway.Wonderifit'sbadtogowiththemthen.Safeinone
way. Turns milk, makes fiddlestrings snap. Something about withering plants I read in a
garden.Besidestheysayiftheflowerwithersshewearsshe'saflirt.Allare.Daresayshefelt
1.Whenyoufeellikethatyouoftenmeetwhatyoufeel.Likedmeorwhat?Dresstheylook
at.Alwaysknowafellowcourting:collarsandcuffs.Wellcocksandlionsdothesameand
stags.Sametimemightpreferatieundoneorsomething.Trousers?SupposeIwhenI was?
No.Gentlydoesit.Dislikeroughandtumble.Kissinthedarkandnevertell.Sawsomething
inme.Wonderwhat.SoonerhavemeasIamthansomepoetchapwithbearsgreaseplastery
hair, lovelock over his dexter optic. To aid gentleman in literary. Ought to attend to my
appearancemyage. Didn't let her see me in profile. Still, you never know. Pretty girls and
uglymenmarrying.Beautyandthebeast.BesidesIcan'tbesoifMolly.Tookoffherhatto
showherhair.Widebrim.Boughttohideherface,meetingsomeonemightknowher,bend
down or carry a bunch of flowers to smell. Hair strong in rut. Ten bob I got for Molly's
combingswhenwewereontherocksinHollesstreet.Whynot?Supposehegavehermoney.
Whynot?Allaprejudice.She'sworthten,fifteen,more,apound.What?Ithinkso.Allthat
for nothing. Bold hand: Mrs Marion. Did I forget to write address on that letter like the
postcardIsenttoFlynn?AndthedayIwenttoDrimmie'swithoutanecktie.Wranglewith
Mollyitwasputmeoff.No,Iremember.RichieGoulding:he'sanother.Weighsonhismind.
Funnymywatchstoppedathalfpastfour.Dust.Sharkliveroiltheyusetoclean.Coulddoit
myself.Save.Wasthatjustwhenhe,she?
O,hedid.Intoher.Shedid.Done.
Ah!
Mr Bloom with careful hand recomposed his wet shirt. O Lord, that little limping devil.
Begins to feel cold and clammy. Aftereffect not pleasant. Still you have to get rid of it
someway. They don't care. Complimented perhaps. Go home to nicey bread and milky and
saynightprayerswiththekiddies.Well,aren'tthey?Seeherassheisspoilall.Musthavethe
stage setting, the rouge, costume, position, music. The name too. Amoursof actresses. Nell

Gwynn, Mrs Bracegirdle, Maud Branscombe. Curtain up. Moonlight silver effulgence.
Maidendiscoveredwithpensivebosom.Littlesweetheartcomeandkissme.Still,Ifeel.The
strengthitgivesaman.That'sthesecretofit.GoodjobIletofftherebehindthewallcoming
out of Dignam's. Cider that was. Otherwise I couldn't have. Makes you want to sing after.
Lacausesanttaratara.SupposeIspoketoher.Whatabout?Badplanhoweverifyoudon't
knowhowtoendtheconversation.Askthemaquestiontheyaskyouanother.Goodideaif
you're stuck. Gain time. But then you're in a cart. Wonderful of course if you say: good
evening,andyouseeshe'sonforit:goodevening.ObutthedarkeveningintheAppianwayI
nearlyspoketoMrsClinchOthinkingshewas.Whew!GirlinMeathstreetthatnight.Allthe
dirtythingsImadehersay.Allwrongofcourse.Myarksshecalledit.It'ssohardtofindone
who.Aho!Ifyoudon'tanswerwhentheysolicitmustbehorribleforthemtilltheyharden.
AndkissedmyhandwhenIgavehertheextratwoshillings.Parrots.Pressthebuttonandthe
birdwillsqueak.Wishshehadn'tcalledmesir.O,hermouthinthedark!Andyouamarried
manwithasinglegirl!That'swhattheyenjoy.Takingamanfromanotherwoman.Oreven
hear of it. Different with me. Glad to get away from other chap's wife. Eating off his cold
plate. Chap in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. French letter still in my
pocketbook.Causeofhalfthetrouble.Butmighthappensometime,Idon'tthink.Comein,all
isprepared. I dreamt. What? Worst is beginning. How they change the venue when it's not
whattheylike.Askyoudoyoulikemushroomsbecausesheonceknewagentlemanwho.Or
askyouwhatsomeonewasgoingtosaywhenhechangedhismindandstopped.YetifIwent
thewholehog,say:Iwantto,somethinglikethat.BecauseIdid.Shetoo.Offendher.Then
makeitup.Pretendtowantsomethingawfully,thencryoffforhersake.Flattersthem. She
musthavebeenthinkingofsomeoneelseallthetime.Whatharm?Mustsinceshecametothe
use of reason, he, he and he. First kiss does the trick. The propitious moment. Something
inside them goes pop. Mushy like, tell by their eye, on the sly. First thoughts are best.
Remember that till their dying day. Molly, lieutenant Mulvey that kissed her under the
Moorish wall beside the gardens. Fifteen she told me. But her breasts weredeveloped.Fell
asleep then. After Glencree dinner that was when we drove home. Featherbed mountain.
Gnashingherteethinsleep.Lordmayorhadhiseyeonhertoo.ValDillon.Apoplectic.
Theresheiswiththemdownthereforthefireworks.Myfireworks.Uplikearocket,down
likeastick.Andthechildren,twinstheymustbe,waitingforsomethingtohappen.Wantto
be grownups. Dressing in mother's clothes. Time enough, understand all the ways of the
world.Andthedarkonewiththemopheadandtheniggermouth.Iknewshecouldwhistle.
Mouthmadeforthat.LikeMolly.WhythathighclasswhoreinJammet'sworeherveilonlyto
hernose.Wouldyoumind,please,tellingmetherighttime?I'lltellyoutherighttimeupa
darklane.Sayprunesandprismsfortytimeseverymorning,cureforfatlips.Caressingthe
little boy too. Onlookers see most of the game. Of course they understand birds, animals,
babies.Intheirline.
Didn't look back when she was going down the strand. Wouldn't give that satisfaction.
Thosegirls,thosegirls,thoselovelyseasidegirls.Fineeyesshehad,clear.It'sthewhiteofthe
eye brings that out not so much the pupil. Did she know what I? Course. Like a cat sitting
beyondadog'sjump.WomennevermeetonelikethatWilkinsinthehighschooldrawinga
pictureofVenuswithallhisbelongingsonshow.Callthatinnocence?Pooridiot!Hiswife
hasherworkcutoutforher.NeverseethemsitonabenchmarkedWetPaint.Eyesallover
them.Lookunderthebedforwhat'snotthere.Longingtogetthefrightoftheirlives.Sharpas
needlestheyare.WhenIsaidtoMollythemanatthecornerofCuffestreetwasgoodlooking,
thoughtshemightlike,twiggedatoncehehadafalsearm.Had,too.Wheredotheygetthat?
TypistgoingupRogerGreene'sstairstwoatatimetoshowherunderstandings.Handeddown
fromfather to, mother to daughter, I mean. Bred in the bone. Milly for example drying her
handkerchiefonthemirrortosavetheironing.Bestplaceforanadtocatchawoman'seyeon
a mirror. And when I sent her for Molly's Paisley shawl to Prescott's by the way that ad I
must,carryinghomethechangeinherstocking!Cleverlittleminx.Inevertoldher.Neatway
shecarriesparcelstoo.Attractmen,smallthinglikethat.Holdingupherhand,shakingit,to
letthebloodflowbackwhenitwasred.Whodidyoulearnthatfrom?Nobody.Something

the nurse taught me. O, don't they know! Three years old she was in front of Molly's
dressingtable,justbeforeweleftLombardstreetwest.Mehaveanicepace.Mullingar.Who
knows? Ways of the world. Young student. Straight on her pins anyway not like the other.
Stillshewasgame.Lord,Iamwet.Devilyouare.Swellofhercalf.Transparentstockings,
stretchedtobreakingpoint.Notlikethatfrumptoday.A.E.Rumpledstockings.Ortheonein
Graftonstreet.White.Wow!Beeftotheheel.
Amonkeypuzzlerocketburst,splutteringindartingcrackles.Zradsandzrads,zrads,zrads.
AndCissyandTommyandJackyranouttoseeandEdyafterwiththepushcarandthenGerty
beyond the curve of the rocks. Will she? Watch! Watch! See! Looked round. She smelt an
onion.Darling,Isaw,your.Isawall.
Lord!
Did me good all the same. Off colour after Kiernan's, Dignam's. For this relief much
thanks. In Hamlet, that is. Lord! It was all things combined. Excitement. When she leaned
back,feltanacheatthebuttofmytongue.Yourheaditsimplyswirls.He'sright.Mighthave
madeaworsefoolofmyselfhowever.Insteadoftalkingaboutnothing.ThenIwilltellyou
all.Stillitwasakindoflanguagebetweenus.Itcouldn'tbe?No,Gertytheycalledher.Might
befalsenamehoweverlikemynameandtheaddressDolphin'sbarnablind.
HermaidennamewasJeminaBrownAndshelivedwithhermotherinIrishtown.
PlacemademethinkofthatIsuppose.AlltarredwiththesamebrushWipingpensintheir
stockings.Buttheballrolleddowntoherasifitunderstood.Everybullethasitsbillet.Course
I never could throw anything straight at school. Crooked as a ram's horn. Sad however
becauseit lasts only a few years till they settle down to potwalloping and papa's pantswill
soonfitWillyandfuller'searthforthebabywhentheyholdhimouttodoahah.Nosoftjob.
Savesthem.Keepsthemoutofharm'sway.Nature.Washingchild,washingcorpse.Dignam.
Children'shandsalwaysroundthem.Cocoanutskulls,monkeys,notevenclosedatfirst,sour
milkintheirswaddlesandtaintedcurds.Oughtn'ttohavegiventhatchild an empty teat to
suck.Fillitupwithwind.MrsBeaufoy,Purefoy.Mustcalltothehospital.Wonderisnurse
Callantherestill.SheusedtolookoversomenightswhenMollywasintheCoffeePalace.
ThatyoungdoctorO'HareInoticedherbrushinghiscoat.AndMrsBreenandMrsDignam
oncelikethattoo,marriageable.WorstofallatnightMrsDuggantoldmeintheCityArms.
Husbandrollingindrunk,stinkofpuboffhimlikeapolecat.Havethatinyournoseinthe
dark, whiff of stale boose. Then ask in the morning: was I drunk last night? Bad policy
howevertofaultthehusband.Chickenscomehometoroost.Theystickbyoneanotherlike
glue. Maybe the women's fault also. That's where Molly can knock spots off them. It's the
blood of the south. Moorish. Also the form, the figure. Hands felt for the opulent. Just
compareforinstancethoseothers.Wifelockedupathome,skeletoninthecupboard.Allow
metointroducemy.Thentheytrotyououtsomekindofanondescript,wouldn'tknowwhat
tocallher.Alwaysseeafellow'sweakpointinhiswife.Stillthere'sdestinyinit,fallingin
love.Havetheirownsecretsbetweenthem.Chapsthatwouldgotothedogsifsomewoman
didn'ttaketheminhand.Thenlittlechitsofgirls,heightofashillingincoppers,withlittle
hubbies. As God made them he matched them. Sometimes children turn out well enough.
Twicenoughtmakesone.Oroldrichchapofseventyandblushingbride.MarryinMayand
repentinDecember.Thiswetisveryunpleasant.Stuck.Welltheforeskinisnotback.Better
detach.
Ow!
Otherhandasixfooterwithawifeyuptohiswatchpocket.Longandtheshortofit.Bighe
andlittleshe.Verystrangeaboutmywatch.Wristwatchesarealwaysgoingwrong.Wonderis
thereanymagneticinfluencebetweenthepersonbecausethatwasaboutthetimehe.Yes,I
suppose,atonce.Cat'saway,themicewillplay.IrememberlookinginPill lane. Also that
nowismagnetism.Backofeverythingmagnetism.Earthforinstancepullingthisandbeing
pulled.Thatcausesmovement.Andtime,wellthat'sthetimethemovementtakes.Thenifone
thingstoppedthe whole ghesabo would stop bit by bit. Because it's all arranged. Magnetic

needletellsyouwhat'sgoingoninthesun,thestars.Littlepieceofsteeliron.Whenyouhold
outthefork.Come.Come.Tip.Womanandmanthatis.Forkandsteel.Molly,he.Dressup
andlookandsuggestandletyouseeandseemoreanddefyyouifyou'reamantoseethat
and,likeasneezecoming,legs,look,lookandifyouhaveanygutsinyou.Tip.Havetolet
fly.
Wonderhowisshefeelinginthatregion.Shameallputonbeforethirdperson.Moreput
outaboutaholeinherstocking.Molly,herunderjawstuckout,headback,aboutthefarmerin
theridingbootsandspursatthehorseshow.AndwhenthepainterswereinLombardstreet
west.Finevoicethatfellowhad.HowGiuglinibegan.SmellthatIdid.Likeflowers.Itwas
too. Violets. Came from the turpentine probably in the paint. Make their own use of
everything.Sametimedoingitscrapedherslipperonthefloorsotheywouldn'thear.Butlots
ofthemcan'tkickthebeam,Ithink.Keepthatthingupforhours.Kindofageneralallround
overmeandhalfdownmyback.
Wait.Hm.Hm.Yes.That'sherperfume.Whyshewavedherhand.Ileaveyouthistothink
ofmewhenI'mfarawayonthepillow.Whatisit?Heliotrope?No.Hyacinth?Hm.Roses,I
think.She'dlikescentofthatkind.Sweetandcheap:soonsour.WhyMollylikesopoponax.
Suitsher,withalittlejessaminemixed.Herhighnotesandherlownotes.Atthedancenight
shemethim,danceofthehours.Heatbroughtitout.Shewaswearingherblackandithadthe
perfumeofthetimebefore.Goodconductor,isit?Orbad?Lighttoo.Supposethere'ssome
connection.Forinstanceifyougointoacellarwhereit'sdark.Mysteriousthingtoo.Whydid
Ismellitonlynow?Tookitstimeincominglikeherself,slowbutsure.Supposeit'severso
manymillionsoftinygrainsblownacross.Yes,itis.Becausethosespiceislands,Cinghalese
thismorning,smellthemleaguesoff.Tellyouwhatitis.It'slikeafinefineveilorwebthey
haveallovertheskin,finelikewhatdoyoucallitgossamer,andthey'realwaysspinningit
outofthem,fineasanything,likerainbowcolourswithoutknowingit.Clingstoeverything
shetakesoff.Vampofherstockings.Warmshoe.Stays.Drawers:littlekick,takingthemoff.
Byby till next time. Also the cat likes to sniff in her shift on the bed. Know her smell in a
thousand.Bathwatertoo.Remindsmeofstrawberriesandcream.Wonderwhereitisreally.
There or the armpits or under the neck. Because you get it out of all holes and corners.
Hyacinthperfumemadeofoilofetherorsomething.Muskrat.Bagundertheirtails.Onegrain
pour off odour for years. Dogs at each other behind. Good evening. Evening. How do you
sniff?Hm.Hm.Verywell,thankyou.Animalsgobythat.Yesnow,lookatitthatway.We're
thesame.Somewomen,instance,warnyouoffwhentheyhavetheirperiod.Comenear.Then
getahogoyoucouldhangyourhaton.Likewhat?Pottedherringsgonestaleor.Boof!Please
keepoffthegrass.
Perhapstheygetamansmelloffus.Whatthough?CigarygloveslongJohnhadonhisdesk
the other day. Breath? What you eat and drink gives that. No. Mansmell, I mean. Must be
connectedwiththatbecauseprieststhataresupposedtobearedifferent.Womenbuzzround
itlikefliesroundtreacle. Railed off the altar get on to it at any cost. The tree of forbidden
priest. O, father, will you? Let me be the first to. That diffuses itself all through the body,
permeates.Sourceoflife.Andit'sextremelycuriousthesmell.Celerysauce.Letme.
MrBloominsertedhisnose.Hm.Intothe.Hm.Openingofhiswaistcoat.Almondsor.No.
Lemonsitis.Ahno,that'sthesoap.
Obythebythatlotion.Iknewtherewassomethingonmymind.Neverwentbackandthe
soapnotpaid.Dislikecarryingbottleslikethathagthismorning.Hynesmighthavepaidme
that three shillings. I could mention Meagher's just to remind him. Still if he works that
paragraph.Twoandnine.Badopinionofmehe'llhave.Calltomorrow.HowmuchdoIowe
you?Threeandnine?Twoandnine,sir.Ah.Mightstophimgivingcreditanothertime.Lose
yourcustomersthatway.Pubsdo.Fellowsrunupabillontheslateandthenslinkingaround
thebackstreetsintosomewhereelse.
Here'sthisnoblemanpassedbefore.Blowninfromthebay.Justwentasfarasturnback.
Alwaysathomeatdinnertime.Looksmangledout:hadagoodtuckin.Enjoyingnaturenow.
Graceaftermeals.Aftersupperwalkamile. Sure he has a small bank balance somewhere,

governmentsit.Walkafterhimnowmakehimawkwardlikethosenewsboysmetoday.Still
you learn something. See ourselves as others see us. So long as women don't mock what
matter? That's the way to find out. Ask yourself who is he now. The Mystery Man on the
Beach,prizetitbitstorybyMrLeopoldBloom.Paymentattherateofoneguineapercolumn.
Andthatfellowtodayatthegravesideinthebrownmacintosh.Cornsonhiskismethowever.
Healthyperhapsabsorballthe.Whistlebringsraintheysay.Mustbesomesomewhere. Salt
in the Ormond damp. The body feels the atmosphere. Old Betty's joints are on the rack.
MotherShipton'sprophecythatisaboutshipsaroundtheyflyinthetwinkling.No.Signsof
rainitis.Theroyalreader.Anddistanthillsseemcomingnigh.
Howth.Baileylight.Two,four,six,eight,nine.See.Hastochangeortheymightthinkita
house. Wreckers. Grace Darling. People afraid of the dark. Also glowworms, cyclists:
lightingup time. Jewels diamonds flash better. Women. Light is a kind of reassuring. Not
goingtohurtyou.Betternowofcoursethanlongago.Countryroads.Runyouthroughthe
smallgutsfornothing.Stilltwotypesthereareyoubobagainst.Scowlorsmile.Pardon!Not
atall.Besttimetosprayplantstoointheshadeafterthesun.Somelightstill.Redraysare
longest.RoygbivVancetaughtus:red,orange,yellow,green,blue,indigo,violet.AstarIsee.
Venus?Can'ttellyet.Two.Whenthreeit'snight.Werethosenightcloudsthereallthetime?
Lookslikeaphantomship.No.Wait.Treesarethey?Anopticalillusion.Mirage.Landofthe
settingsunthis.Homerulesunsettinginthesoutheast.Mynativeland,goodnight.
Dewfalling.Badforyou,dear,tositonthatstone.Bringsonwhitefluxions.Neverhave
littlebabythenlesshewasbigstrongfighthiswayupthrough.Mightgetpilesmyself.Sticks
too like a summer cold, sore on the mouth. Cut with grass or paper worst. Friction of the
position.Liketobethatrockshesaton.Osweetlittle,youdon'tknowhowniceyoulooked.I
begintolikethematthatage.Greenapples.Grabatallthatoffer.Supposeit'stheonlytime
wecrosslegs,seated.Alsothelibrarytoday:thosegirlgraduates.Happychairsunderthem.
But it's the evening influence. They feel all that. Open like flowers, know their hours,
sunflowers, Jerusalem artichokes, in ballrooms, chandeliers, avenues under the lamps.
Nightstock in Mat Dillon's garden where I kissed her shoulder. Wish I had a full length
oilpaintingofherthen.JunethatwastooIwooed.Theyearreturns.Historyrepeatsitself.Ye
cragsandpeaksI'mwithyouonceagain.Life,love,voyageroundyourownlittleworld.And
now?Sadaboutherlameofcoursebutmustbeonyourguardnottofeeltoomuchpity.They
takeadvantage.
AllquietonHowthnow.Thedistanthillsseem.Wherewe.Therhododendrons.Iamafool
perhaps.Hegetstheplums,andItheplumstones.WhereIcomein.Allthatoldhillhasseen.
Nameschange:that'sall.Lovers:yumyum.
TiredIfeelnow.WillIgetup?Owait.Drainedallthemanhoodoutofme,littlewretch.
She kissed me. Never again. My youth. Only once it comes. Or hers. Take the train there
tomorrow. No. Returning not the same. Like kids your second visit to a house. The new I
want.Nothingnewunderthesun.CareofP.O.Dolphin'sBarn.Areyounothappyinyour?
Naughtydarling.AtDolphin'sbarncharadesinLukeDoyle'shouse.MatDillonandhisbevy
ofdaughters:Tiny,Atty,Floey,Maimy,Louy,Hetty.Mollytoo.Eightyseventhatwas.Year
before we. And the old major, partial to his drop of spirits. Curious she an only child, I an
onlychild.Soitreturns.Thinkyou'reescapingandrunintoyourself.Longestwayroundis
the shortest way home. And just when he and she. Circus horse walking in a ring.Ripvan
Winkle we played. Rip: tear in Henny Doyle's overcoat. Van: breadvan delivering. Winkle:
cockles and periwinkles. Then I did Rip van Winkle coming back. She leaned on the
sideboard watching. Moorish eyes. Twenty years asleep in Sleepy Hollow. All changed.
Forgotten.Theyoungareold.Hisgunrustyfromthedew.
Ba. What is that flying about? Swallow? Bat probably. Thinks I'm a tree, so blind. Have
birdsnosmell?Metempsychosis.Theybelievedyoucouldbechangedintoatreefromgrief.
Weepingwillow.Ba.Therehegoes.Funnylittlebeggar.Wonderwherehelives.Belfryup
there. Very likely. Hanging by his heels in the odour of sanctity. Bell scared him out, I
suppose.Massseemstobeover.Couldhearthemallatit.Prayforus.Andprayforus.And

prayforus.Goodideatherepetition.Samethingwith ads. Buy from us. And buy from us.


Yes,there'sthelightinthepriest'shouse.Theirfrugalmeal.Rememberaboutthemistakein
the valuation when I was in Thom's. Twentyeight it is. Two houses they have. Gabriel
Conroy'sbrotheriscurate.Ba.Again.Wonderwhytheycomeoutatnightlikemice.They're
a mixed breed. Birds are like hopping mice. What frightens them, light or noise? Better sit
still. All instinct like the bird in drouth got water out of the end of a jar by throwing in
pebbles.Like a little man in a cloak he is with tiny hands. Weeny bones. Almost see them
shimmering, kind of a bluey white. Colours depend on the light you see. Stare the sun for
example like the eagle then look at a shoe see a blotch blob yellowish. Wants to stamp his
trademark on everything. Instance, that cat this morning on the staircase. Colour of brown
turf.Sayyouneverseethemwiththreecolours.Nottrue.Thathalftabbywhitetortoiseshellin
theCityArmswiththeletteremonherforehead.Bodyfiftydifferentcolours.Howthawhile
ago amethyst. Glass flashing. That's how that wise man what's his name with the burning
glass.Thentheheathergoesonfire.Itcan'tbetourists'matches.What?Perhapsthesticksdry
rubtogetherinthewindandlight.Orbrokenbottlesinthefurzeactasaburningglassinthe
sun.Archimedes.Ihaveit!Mymemory'snotsobad.
Ba. Who knows what they're always flying for. Insects? That bee last week got into the
room playing with his shadow on the ceiling. Might be the one bit me, come back to see.
Birdstoo.Neverfindout.Orwhattheysay.Likeoursmalltalk.Andsayssheandsayshe.
Nerve they have to fly over the ocean and back. Lots must be killed in storms, telegraph
wires.Dreadfullifesailorshavetoo.Bigbrutesofoceangoingsteamersflounderingalongin
thedark,lowingoutlikeseacows.FaughaBallagh!Outofthat,bloodycursetoyou!Others
invessels,bitofahandkerchiefsail,pitchedaboutlikesnuffatawakewhenthestormywinds
doblow.Marriedtoo.Sometimesawayforyearsattheendsoftheearthsomewhere.Noends
reallybecauseit'sround.Wifeineveryporttheysay.Shehasagoodjobifshemindsittill
Johnnycomesmarchinghomeagain.Ifeverhedoes.Smellingthetailendofports.Howcan
theylikethesea?Yettheydo.Theanchor'sweighed.Offhesailswithascapularoramedal
onhimforluck.Well.Andthetephilimnowhat'sthistheycallitpoorpapa'sfatherhadonhis
door to touch. That brought us out of the land of Egypt and into the house of bondage.
Something in all those superstitions because when you go out never know what dangers.
Hangingontoaplankorastrideofabeamforgrimlife,lifebeltroundhim,gulpingsaltwater,
andthat'sthelastofhisnibstillthesharkscatchholdofhim.Dofishevergetseasick?
Then you have a beautiful calm without a cloud, smooth sea, placid, crew and cargo in
smithereens, Davy Jones' locker, moon looking down so peaceful. Not my fault, old
cockalorum.
AlastlonelycandlewandereduptheskyfromMirusbazaarinsearchoffundsforMercer's
hospitalandbroke,drooping,andshedaclusterofviolet but one white stars. They floated,
fell:theyfaded.Theshepherd'shour:thehouroffolding:houroftryst.Fromhousetohouse,
givinghiseverwelcomedoubleknock,wentthenineo'clockpostman,theglowworm'slamp
athisbeltgleaminghereandtherethroughthelaurelhedges.Andamongthefiveyoungtrees
a hoisted lintstock lit the lamp at Leahy's terrace. By screens of lighted windows, by equal
gardensashrillvoicewentcrying,wailing:EveningTelegraph,stoppressedition!Resultof
theGoldCuprace!andfromthedoorofDignam'shouseaboyranoutandcalled.Twittering
thebatflewhere,flewthere.Faroutoverthesandsthecomingsurfcrept,grey.Howthsettled
forslumber,tiredoflong days, of yumyum rhododendrons (he was old) and felt gladly the
night breeze lift, ruffle his fell of ferns. He lay but opened a red eye unsleeping, deep and
slowly breathing, slumberous but awake. And far on Kish bank the anchored lightship
twinkled,winkedatMrBloom.
Lifethosechapsouttheremusthave,stuckinthesamespot.IrishLightsboard.Penance
fortheirsins.Coastguardstoo.Rocketandbreechesbuoyandlifeboat.Daywewentoutfor
thepleasurecruiseintheErin'sKing,throwingthemthesackofoldpapers.Bearsinthezoo.
Filthy trip. Drunkards out to shake up their livers. Puking overboard to feed the herrings.
Nausea. And the women, fear of God in their faces. Milly, no sign of funk. Her blue scarf

loose, laughing. Don't know what death is at that age. And then their stomachs clean. But
being lost they fear. When we hid behind the tree at Crumlin. I didn't want to. Mamma!
Mamma!Babesinthewood.Frighteningthemwithmaskstoo.Throwingthemupintheairto
catch them. I'll murder you. Is it only half fun? Or children playing battle. Whole earnest.
How can people aim guns at each other. Sometimes they go off. Poor kids! Only troubles
wildfire and nettlerash. Calomel purge I got her for that. After getting better asleep with
Molly.Verysame teeth she has. What do they love? Another themselves? But the morning
she chased her with the umbrella. Perhaps so as not to hurt. I felt her pulse. Ticking. Little
handitwas:nowbig.DearestPapli.Allthatthehandsayswhenyoutouch.Lovedtocount
mywaistcoatbuttons.HerfirststaysIremember.Mademelaughtosee.Littlepapstobegin
with.Leftoneismoresensitive,Ithink.Minetoo.Nearertheheart?Paddingthemselvesout
if fat is in fashion. Her growing pains at night, calling, wakening me. Frightened she was
when her nature came on her first. Poor child! Strange moment for the mother too. Brings
back her girlhood. Gibraltar. Looking from Buena Vista. O'Hara's tower. The seabirds
screaming.OldBarbaryapethatgobbledallhisfamily.Sundown,gunfireforthementocross
the lines. Looking out over the sea she told me. Evening like this, but clear, no clouds. I
always thought I'd marry a lord or a rich gentleman coming with a private yacht. Buenas
noches, seorita. El hombre ama la muchacha hermosa. Why me? Because you were so
foreignfromtheothers.
Betternotstickhereallnightlikealimpet.Thisweathermakesyoudull.Mustbegetting
onforninebythelight.Gohome.ToolateforLeah,LilyofKillarney.No.Mightbestillup.
Call to the hospital to see. Hope she's over. Long day I've had. Martha, the bath, funeral,
houseofKeyes, museum with those goddesses, Dedalus' song. Then that bawler in Barney
Kiernan's. Got my own back there. Drunken ranters what I said about his God made him
wince.Mistaketohitback.Or?No.Oughttogohomeandlaughatthemselves.Alwayswant
tobeswillingincompany.Afraidtobealonelikeachildoftwo.Supposehehitme.Lookat
it other way round. Not so bad then. Perhaps not to hurt he meant. Three cheers for Israel.
Threecheersforthesisterinlawhehawkedabout,threefangsinhermouth.Samestyleof
beauty.Particularlyniceoldpartyforacupoftea.Thesisterofthewifeofthewildmanof
Borneohasjustcometotown.Imaginethatintheearlymorningatcloserange.Everyoneto
histasteasMorrissaidwhenhekissedthecow.ButDignam'sputthebootsonit.Housesof
mourningsodepressingbecauseyouneverknow.Anyhowshewantsthemoney.Mustcallto
thoseScottishWidowsasIpromised.Strangename.Takesitforgrantedwe'regoingtopop
offfirst.ThatwidowonMondaywasitoutsideCramer'sthatlookedatme.Buriedthepoor
husbandbutprogressingfavourablyonthepremium.Herwidow'smite.Well?Whatdoyou
expecthertodo?Mustwheedleherwayalong.WidowerIhatetosee.Lookssoforlorn.Poor
manO'Connorwifeandfivechildrenpoisonedbymusselshere.Thesewage.Hopeless.Some
good matronly woman in a porkpie hat to mother him. Take him in tow, platter face and a
largeapron.Ladies'greyflannelettebloomers,threeshillingsapair,astonishingbargain.Plain
andloved,lovedforever,theysay.Ugly:nowomanthinkssheis.Love,lieandbehandsome
for tomorrow we die. See him sometimes walking about trying to find out who played the
trick. U. p: up. Fate that is. He, not me. Also a shop often noticed. Curse seems to dog it.
Dreamt last night? Wait. Something confused. She had red slippers on. Turkish. Wore the
breeches.Supposeshedoes?WouldIlikeherinpyjamas?Damnedhardtoanswer.Nannetti's
gone. Mailboat. Near Holyhead by now. Must nail that ad of Keyes's. Work Hynes and
Crawford. Petticoats for Molly. She has something to put in them. What's that? Might be
money.
MrBloomstoopedandturnedoverapieceofpaperonthestrand.Hebroughtitnearhis
eyesandpeered.Letter?No.Can'tread.Bettergo.Better.I'mtiredtomove.Pageofanold
copybook.Allthoseholesandpebbles.Whocouldcountthem?Neverknowwhatyoufind.
Bottlewithstoryofatreasureinit,thrownfromawreck.Parcelspost.Childrenalwayswant
tothrowthingsinthesea.Trust?Breadcastonthewaters.What'sthis?Bitofstick.
O!Exhaustedthatfemalehasme.Notsoyoungnow.Willshecomeheretomorrow?Wait

forhersomewhereforever.Mustcomeback.Murderersdo.WillI?
MrBloomwithhisstickgentlyvexedthethicksandathisfoot.Writeamessageforher.
Mightremain.What?
I.
Someflatfoottramponitinthemorning.Useless.Washedaway.Tidecomeshere.Sawa
poolnearherfoot.Bend,seemyfacethere,darkmirror,breatheonit,stirs.Alltheserocks
with lines and scars and letters. O, those transparent! Besides they don't know. What is the
meaningofthatotherworld.IcalledyounaughtyboybecauseIdonotlike.
AM.A.
Noroom.Letitgo.
MrBloomeffacedtheletterswithhisslowboot.Hopelessthingsand.Nothinggrowsinit.
Allfades.Nofearofbigvesselscominguphere.ExceptGuinness'sbarges.RoundtheKishin
eightydays.Donehalfbydesign.
Heflunghiswoodenpenaway.Thestickfellinsiltedsand,stuck.Nowifyouweretrying
todothatforaweekonendyoucouldn't.Chance.We'llnevermeetagain.Butitwaslovely.
Goodbye,dear.Thanks.Mademefeelsoyoung.
Short snooze now if I had. Must be near nine. Liverpool boat long gone.. Not even the
smoke.Andshecandotheother.Didtoo.AndBelfast.Iwon'tgo.Racethere,racebackto
Ennis. Let him. Just close my eyes a moment. Won't sleep, though. Half dream. It never
comesthesame.Batagain.Noharminhim.Justafew.
OsweetyallyourlittlegirlwhiteupIsawdirtybracegirdlemademedolovestickywetwo
naughty Grace darling she him half past the bed met him pike hoses frillies for Raoul de
perfumeyourwifeblackhairheaveunderembonseoritayoungeyesMulveyplumpbubsme
breadvanWinkleredslipperssherustysleepwanderyearsofdreamsreturntailendAgendath
swoonyloveyshowedmehernextyearindrawersreturnnextinhernexthernext.
Abatflew.Here.There.Here.Farinthegreyabellchimed.MrBloomwithopenmouth,
hisleftbootsandedsideways,leaned,breathed.Justforafew
Cuckoo
Cuckoo
Cuckoo.

Theclockonthemantelpieceinthepriest'shousecooedwhereCanonO'HanlonandFather
ConroyandthereverendJohnHughesS.J.weretakingteaandsodabreadandbutterandfried
muttonchopswithcatsupandtalkingabout
Cuckoo
Cuckoo
Cuckoo.

BecauseitwasalittlecanarybirdthatcameoutofitslittlehousetotellthetimethatGerty
MacDowellnoticedthetimeshewastherebecauseshewasasquickasanythingaboutathing
likethat,wasGertyMacDowell,andshenoticedatoncethatthatforeigngentlemanthatwas
sittingontherockslookingwas
Cuckoo
Cuckoo
Cuckoo.

DeshilHollesEamus.DeshilHollesEamus.DeshilHollesEamus.
Sendusbrightone,lightone,Horhorn,quickeningandwombfruit.Sendusbrightone,light
one,Horhorn,quickeningandwombfruit.Sendusbrightone,lightone,Horhorn,quickening
andwombfruit.
Hoopsaboyaboyhoopsa!Hoopsaboyaboyhoopsa!Hoopsaboyaboyhoopsa!
Universallythatperson'sacumenisesteemedverylittleperceptiveconcerning whatsoever

mattersarebeingheldasmostprofitablybymortalswithsapienceendowedtobestudiedwho
isignorantofthatwhichthemostindoctrineeruditeandcertainlybyreasonofthatinthem
highmind'sornament deserving of veneration constantly maintain when by general consent
theyaffirmthatothercircumstancesbeingequalbynoexteriorsplendouristheprosperityofa
nation more efficaciously asserted than by the measure of how far forward may have
progressed the tribute of its solicitude for that proliferent continuance which of evils the
original if it be absent when fortunately present constitutes the certain sign of omnipotent
nature's incorrupted benefaction. For who is there who anything of some significance has
apprehended but is conscious that that exterior splendour may be the surface of a
downwardtendinglutulentrealityoronthecontraryanyonesoisthereunilluminatedasnotto
perceive that as no nature's boon can contend against the bounty of increase so it behoves
every most just citizen to become the exhortator and admonisher of his semblables and to
tremblelestwhathadinthepastbeenbythenationexcellentlycommencedmightbeinthe
future not with similar excellence accomplished if an inverecund habit shall have gradually
traducedthehonourablebyancestorstransmittedcustomstothatthitherofprofunditythatthat
onewasaudaciousexcessivelywhowouldhavethehardihoodtoriseaffirmingthatnomore
odious offence can for anyone be than to oblivious neglect to consign that evangel
simultaneously command and promise which on all mortals with prophecy of abundance or
with diminution's menace that exalted of reiteratedly procreating function ever irrevocably
enjoined?
It is not why therefore we shall wonder if, as the best historians relate, among the Celts,
whonothingthatwasnotinitsnatureadmirableadmired,theartofmedicineshallhavebeen
highlyhonoured.Nottospeakofhostels,leperyards,sweatingchambers,plaguegraves,their
greatestdoctors,theO'Shiels,theO'Hickeys,theO'Lees,havesedulouslysetdownthedivers
methodsbywhichthesickandtherelapsedfoundagainhealthwhetherthemaladyhadbeen
thetremblingwitheringorlooseboyconnellflux.Certainlyineverypublicworkwhichinit
anything of gravity contains preparation should be with importance commensurate and
thereforeaplanwasbythemadopted(whetherbyhavingpreconsideredorasthematuration
ofexperienceitisdifficultinbeingsaidwhichthediscrepantopinionsofsubsequentinquirers
arenotuptothepresentcongruedtorendermanifest)wherebymaternitywassofarfromall
accidentpossibilityremovedthatwhatevercarethepatientinthatallhardestofwomanhour
chiefly required and not solely for the copiously opulent but also for her who not being
sufficientlymoneyedscarcelyandoftennotevenscarcelycouldsubsistvaliantlyandforan
inconsiderableemolumentwasprovided.
To her nothing already then and thenceforward was anyway able to be molestful for this
chieflyfeltallcitizensexceptwithproliferentmothersprosperityatallnottocanbeandas
theyhadreceivedeternitygodsmortalsgenerationtobefitthemherbeholding,whenthecase
wassohovingitself,parturientinvehicletherewardcarryingdesireimmenseamongallone
anotherwasimpellingonofhertobereceivedintothatdomicile.Othingofprudentnation
notmerelyinbeingseenbutalsoeveninbeingrelatedworthyofbeingpraisedthattheyher
byanticipationwentseeingmother,thatshebythemsuddenlytobeabouttobecherishedhad
beenbegunshefelt!
Beforebornblissbabehad.Withinwombwonheworship.Whateverinthatonecasedone
commodiously done was. A couch by midwives attended with wholesome food reposeful,
cleanest swaddles as though forthbringing were now done and by wise foresight set: but to
thisnolessofwhatdrugsthereisneedandsurgicalimplementswhicharepertainingtoher
casenotomittingaspectofallverydistractingspectaclesinvariouslatitudesbyourterrestrial
orb offered together with images, divine and human, the cogitation of which by sejunct
femalesistotumescenceconduciveoreasesissueinthehighsunbrightwellbuiltfairhomeof
motherswhen,ostensiblyfargoneandreproductitive,itiscomebyhertheretotoliein,her
termup.
Somemanthatwayfaringwasstoodbyhousedooratnight'soncoming.OfIsrael'sfolkwas
thatmanthatonearthwanderingfarhadfared.Starkruthofmanhiserrandthathimloneled

tillthathouse.
OfthathouseA.Horneislord.Seventybedskeepshethereteemingmothersarewontthat
theyliefortotholeandbringforthbairnshalesoGod'sangeltoMaryquoth.Watcherstway
there walk, white sisters in ward sleepless. Smarts they still, sickness soothing: in twelve
moonsthriceanhundred.Truestbedthanestheytwainare,forHorneholdingwariestward.
In ward wary the watcher hearing come that man mildhearted eft rising with swire
ywimpled to him her gate wide undid. Lo, levin leaping lightens in eyeblink Ireland's
westwardwelkin.FullshedradthatGodtheWreakerallmankindwouldfordowithwaterfor
hisevilsins.Christ'sroodmadesheonbreastboneandhimdrewthathewouldratheinfare
underherthatch.ThatmanherwillwottingworthfulwentinHorne'shouse.
LothtoirkinHorne'shallhatholdingtheseekerstood.Onherstowheerewaslivingwith
dear wife and lovesome daughter that then over land and seafloor nine years had long
outwandered. Once her in townhithe meeting he to her bow had not doffed. Her to forgive
nowhecravedwithgoodgroundofherallowedthatthatofhimswiftseenface,hers,soyoung
thenhadlooked.Lightswifthereyeskindled,bloomofblusheshiswordwinning.
Ashereyesthenongothisweedsswartthereforsorrowshefeared.Gladaftershewasthat
ere adread was. Her he asked if O'Hare Doctor tidings sent from far coast and she with
gramefulsighhimansweredthatO'HareDoctorinheavenwas.Sadwasthemanthatwordto
hearthathimsoheaviedinbowelsruthful.Allshetheretoldhim,ruingdeathforfriendso
young,algatesoreunwillingGod'srightwisenesstowithsay.Shesaidthathehadafairsweet
deaththroughGodHisgoodnesswithmasspriesttobeshriven,holyhouselandsickmen'soil
tohislimbs.Themanthenrightearnestaskedthenunofwhichdeaththedeadmanwasdied
andthenunansweredhimandsaidthathewasdiedinMonaIslandthroughbellycrab three
yearagonecomeChildermasandsheprayedtoGodtheAllruthfultohavehisdearsoulinhis
undeathliness.Heheardhersadwords,inheldhatsadstaring.Sostoodtheytherebothawhile
inwanhopesorrowingonewithother.
Therefore, everyman, look to that last end that is thy death and the dust that gripeth on
every man that is born of woman for as he came naked forth from his mother's womb so
nakedshallhewendhimatthelastfortogoashecame.
Themanthatwascomeintothehousethenspoketothenursingwomanandheaskedher
howitfaredwiththewomanthatlaythereinchildbed.Thenursingwomanansweredhimand
saidthatthatwomanwasinthroesnowfullthreedaysandthatitwouldbeahardbirthunneth
tobearbutthatnowinalittleitwouldbe.Shesaidtheretothatshehadseenmanybirthsof
womenbutneverwasnonesohardaswasthatwoman'sbirth.Thenshesetitallforthtohim
forbecausesheknewthemanthattimewashadlivednighthathouse.Themanhearkenedto
herwordsforhefeltwithwonderwomen'swoeinthetravailthattheyhaveofmotherhood
andhewonderedtolookonherfacethatwasafairfaceforanymantoseebutyetwasshe
leftafterlongyearsahandmaid.Ninetwelvebloodflowschidingherchildless.
Andwhilestheyspakethedoorofthecastlewasopenedandtherenighedthemamickle
noise as of many that sat there at meat. And there came against the place as they stood a
younglearningknightycleptDixon.AndthetravellerLeopoldwascouthtohimsithenithad
happed that they had had ado each with other in the house of misericord where this
learningknight lay by cause the traveller Leopold came there to be healed for he was sore
woundedinhisbreastbyaspearwherewithahorribleanddreadfuldragonwassmittenhim
forwhichhediddomakeasalveofvolatilesaltandchrismasmuchashemightsuffice.And
hesaidnowthatheshouldgointothatcastlefortomakemerrywiththemthatwerethere.
AndthetravellerLeopoldsaidthatheshouldgootherwhitherforhewasamanofcautelsand
a subtile. Also the lady was of his avis and repreved the learningknight though she trowed
well that the traveller had said thing that was false for his subtility. But the learningknight
wouldnothearsaynaynordohermandementnehavehiminaughtcontrarioustohislistand
hesaidhowitwasamarvellouscastle.AndthetravellerLeopoldwentintothecastleforto
rest him for a space being sore of limb after many marches environing in divers lands and

sometimevenery.
AndinthecastlewassetaboardthatwasofthebirchwoodofFinlandyanditwasupheld
byfourdwarfmenofthatcountrybuttheydurstnotmovemoreforenchantment.Andonthis
boardwerefrightfulswordsandknivesthataremadeinagreatcavernbyswinkingdemons
out of white flames that they fix then in the horns of buffalos and stags that there abound
marvellously.AndtherewerevesselsthatarewroughtbymagicofMahoundoutofseasand
andtheairbyawarlockwithhisbreaththatheblasesintothemliketobubbles.Andfullfair
cheerandrichwasontheboardthatnowightcoulddeviseafullernericher.Andtherewasa
vatofsilverthatwasmovedbycrafttoopeninthewhichlaystrangefisheswithoutenheads
thoughmisbelievingmenniethatthisbepossiblethingwithouttheyseeitnathelesstheyare
so. And these fishes lie in an oily water brought there from Portugal land because of the
fatnessthatthereinisliketothejuicesoftheolivepress.Andalsoitwasamarveltoseein
that castle how by magic they make a compost out of fecund wheatkidneys out of Chaldee
that by aid of certain angry spirits that they do in to it swells up wondrously like to a vast
mountain.Andtheyteachtheserpentstheretoentwinethemselvesuponlongsticksoutofthe
groundandofthescalesoftheseserpentstheybrewoutabrewageliketomead.
AndthelearningknightletpourforchildeLeopoldadraughtandhalptheretothewhileall
theythatweretheredrankeveryeach.AndchildeLeopolddiduphisbeaverfortopleasure
himandtookapertlysomewhatinamityforheneverdranknomannerofmeadwhichhethen
putbyandanonfullprivilyhevoidedthemorepartinhisneighbourglassandhisneighbour
nistnotofthiswile.Andhesatdowninthatcastlewiththemfor to rest him there awhile.
ThankedbeAlmightyGod.
ThismeanwhilethisgoodsisterstoodbythedoorandbeggedthematthereverenceofJesu
our alther liege Lord to leave their wassailing for there was above one quick with child, a
gentle dame, whose time hied fast. Sir Leopold heard on the upfloor cry on high and he
wonderedwhatcrythatitwaswhetherofchildorwomanandImarvel,saidhe,thatitbenot
come or now. Meseems it dureth overlong. And he was ware and saw a franklinthathight
Lenehanonthatsidethetablethatwasolderthananyofthetotherandforthattheybothwere
knightsvirtuousintheoneempriseandekebycausethathewaselderhespoketohimfull
gently.But,saidhe,oritbelongtooshewillbringforthbyGodHisbountyandhavejoyof
her childing for she hath waited marvellous long. And the franklin that had drunken said,
Expecting each moment to be her next. Also he took the cup that stood tofore him for him
needed never none asking nor desiring of him to drink and, Now drink, said he, fully
delectably,andhequaffedasfarashemighttotheirboth'shealthforhewasapassinggood
manofhislustiness.AndsirLeopoldthatwasthegoodliestguestthateversatinscholars'hall
and that was the meekest man and the kindest that ever laid husbandly hand under hen and
thatwastheverytruest knight of the world one that ever did minion service to lady gentle
pledgedhimcourtlyinthecup.Woman'swoewithwonderpondering.
Nowletusspeakofthatfellowshipthatwastheretotheintenttobedrunkenantheymight.
Therewasasortofscholarsalongeithersidetheboard,thatistowit,Dixonycleptjuniorof
saintMaryMerciable'swithotherhisfellowsLynchandMadden,scholarsofmedicine,and
thefranklinthathightLenehanandonefromAlbaLonga,oneCrotthers,andyoungStephen
that had mien of a frere that was at head of the board and Costello that men clepen Punch
Costello all long of a mastery of him erewhile gested (and of all them, reserved young
Stephen,hewasthemostdrunkenthatdemandedstillofmoremead)andbesidethemeeksir
Leopold.ButonyoungMalachitheywaitedforthathepromisedtohavecomeandsuch as
intendedtonogoodnesssaidhowhehadbrokehisavow.AndsirLeopoldsatwiththemfor
heborefastfriendshiptosirSimonandtothishissonyoungStephenandforthathislanguor
becalmedhimthereafterlongestwanderingsinsomuchastheyfeastedhimforthattimeinthe
honourablestmanner.Ruthredhim,loveledonwithwilltowander,lothtoleave.
Fortheywererightwittyscholars.Andheheardtheiraresounseachgenotherastouching
birthandrighteousness,youngMaddenmaintainingthatputsuchcaseitwerehardthewifeto
die(forsoithadfallenoutamatterofsomeyearagonewithawomanofEblanainHorne's

housethatnowwastrespassedoutofthisworldandtheselfnightnextbeforeherdeathall
leechesandpothecarieshadtakencounselofhercase).Andtheysaidfarthersheshouldlive
becauseinthebeginning,theysaid,thewomanshouldbringforthinpainandwhereforethey
that were of this imagination affirmed how young Madden had said truth for he had
consciencetoletherdie.AndnotfewandofthesewasyoungLynchwereindoubtthatthe
worldwasnowrightevilgovernedasitwasneverotherhowbeitthemeanpeoplebelievedit
otherwisebutthelawnorhisjudgesdidprovidenoremedy.AredressGodgrant.Thiswas
scantsaidbutallcriedwithoneacclaimnay,byourVirginMother,thewifeshouldliveand
thebabe to die. In colour whereof they waxed hot upon that head what with argument and
whatfortheirdrinkingbutthefranklinLenehanwasprompteachwhentopourthemaleso
thatattheleastwaymirthmightnotlack.ThenyoungMaddenshowedallthewholeaffair
and said how that she was dead and how for holy religion sake by rede of palmer and
bedesman and for a vow he had made to Saint Ultan of Arbraccan her goodman husband
wouldnot let her death whereby they were all wondrous grieved. To whom young Stephen
hadthesewordsfollowing:Murmur,sirs,isekeoftamonglayfolk.Bothbabeandparentnow
glorify their Maker, the one in limbo gloom, the other in purgefire. But, gramercy, what of
those Godpossibled souls that we nightly impossibilise, which is the sin against the Holy
Ghost,VeryGod,LordandGiverofLife?For,sirs,hesaid,ourlustisbrief.Wearemeansto
thosesmallcreatureswithinusandnaturehasotherendsthanwe.ThensaidDixonjuniorto
PunchCostellowisthewhatends.Buthehadovermuchdrunkenandthebestwordhecould
haveofhimwasthathewouldeverdishonestawomanwhososhewereorwifeormaidor
leman if it so fortuned him to be delivered of his spleen of lustihead. Whereat Crotthers of
AlbaLongasangyoungMalachi'spraiseofthatbeasttheunicornhowonceinthemillennium
he cometh by his horn, the other all this while, pricked forward with their jibes wherewith
theydidmalicehim,witnessingallandseveralbysaintFoutinushisenginesthathewasable
todoanymannerofthingthatlayinmantodo.Thereatlaughedtheyallrightjocundlyonly
young Stephen and sir Leopold which never durst laugh too open by reason of a strange
humour which he would not bewray and also for that he rued for her that bare whoso she
mightbeorwheresoever.ThenspakeyoungStephenorgulousofmotherChurchthatwould
casthimoutofherbosom,oflawofcanons,ofLilith,patronofabortions,ofbignesswrought
by wind of seeds of brightness or by potency of vampires mouth to mouth or, as Virgilius
saith, by the influence of the occident or by the reek of moonflower or an she lie with a
womanwhichhermanhasbutlainwith,effectusecuto,orperadventureinherbathaccording
totheopinionsofAverroesandMosesMaimonides.Hesaidalsohowattheendofthesecond
monthahumansoulwasinfusedandhowinallourholymotherfoldetheversoulsforGod's
greaterglorywhereasthatearthlymotherwhichwasbutadamtobearbeastlyshoulddieby
canonforsosaithhethatholdeththefisherman'sseal,eventhatblessedPeteronwhichrock
washolychurchforallagesfounded.AlltheybachelorsthenaskedofsirLeopoldwouldhe
inlikecasesojeopardherpersonasrisklifetosavelife.Awarinessofmindhewouldanswer
as fitted all and, laying hand to jaw, he said dissembling, as his wont was, that as it was
informedhim,whohadeverlovedtheartofphysicasmightalayman,andagreeingalsowith
hisexperienceofsoseldomseenanaccidentitwasgoodforthatmotherChurchbelikeatone
blowhadbirthanddeathpenceandinsuchsortdeliverlyhescapedtheirquestions.Thatis
truth,pardy,saidDixon,and,orIerr,apregnantword.WhichhearingyoungStephenwasa
marvellousgladmanandheaverredthathewhostealethfromthepoorlendethtotheLordfor
hewasofawildmannerwhenhewasdrunkenandthathewasnowinthattakingitappeared
eftsoons.
But sir Leopold was passing grave maugre his word by cause he still had pity of the
terrorcausingshriekingofshrillwomenintheirlabourandashewasmindedofhisgoodlady
Marionthathadbornehimanonlymanchildwhichonhiseleventhdayonlivehaddiedand
nomanofartcouldsavesodarkisdestiny.Andshewaswondrousstrickenofheartforthat
evilhapandforhisburialdidhimonafaircorseletoflamb'swool,thefloweroftheflock,
lesthemightperishutterlyandlieakeled(foritwasthenaboutthemidstofthewinter)and
nowSirLeopoldthathadofhisbodynomanchildforanheirlookeduponhimhisfriend'sson

andwasshutupinsorrowforhisforepassedhappinessandassadashewasthathimfaileda
sonofsuchgentlecourage(forallaccountedhimofrealparts)sogrievedhealsoinnoless
measureforyoungStephenforthathelivedriotouslywiththosewastrelsandmurderedhis
goodswithwhores.
AboutthatpresenttimeyoungStephenfilledallcupsthatstoodemptysoasthereremained
butlittlemoiftheprudenterhadnotshadowedtheirapproachfromhimthatstillplieditvery
busilywho,prayingfortheintentionsofthesovereignpontiff,hegavethemforapledgethe
vicarofChristwhichalsoashesaidisvicarofBray.Nowdrinkwe,quodhe,ofthismazer
andquaffyethismeadwhichisnotindeedparcelofmybodybutmysoul'sbodiment.Leave
yefractionofbreadtothemthatlivebybreadalone.Benotafeardneitherforanywantfor
thiswillcomfortmorethantheotherwilldismay.Seeyehere.Andheshowedthemglistering
coinsofthetributeandgoldsmithnotestheworthoftwopoundnineteenshillingthathehad,
hesaid,forasongwhichhewrit.Theyalladmiredtoseetheforesaidrichesinsuchdearthof
money as was herebefore. His words were then these as followeth: Know all men, he said,
time'sruinsbuildeternity'smansions.Whatmeansthis?Desire'swindblaststhethorntreebut
after it becomes from a bramblebush to be a rose upon the rood of time. Mark me now. In
woman'swombwordismadefleshbutinthespiritofthemakerallfleshthatpassesbecomes
the word that shall not pass away. This is the postcreation. Omnis caro ad te veniet. No
questionbuthernameispuissantwhoaventriedthedearcorseofourAgenbuyer,Healerand
Herd,ourmightymotherandmothermostvenerableandBernardussaithaptlythatShehath
anomnipotentiamdeiparaesupplicem,thatistowit,analmightinessofpetitionbecausesheis
thesecondEveandshewonus,saithAugustinetoo,whereasthatother,ourgrandam,which
we are linked up with by successive anastomosis of navelcords sold us all, seed, breed and
generation, forapenny pippin. Buthereisthematternow.Orsheknewhim,thatsecondI
say,andwasbutcreatureofhercreature,verginemadre,figliadituofiglio,orsheknewhim
not and then stands she in the one denial or ignorancy with Peter Piscator who lives in the
house that Jack built and with Joseph the joiner patron of the happy demise of all unhappy
marriages,parcequeM. Lo Taxil nous a dit que qui l'avait mise dans cette fichue position
c'tait le sacre pigeon, ventre de Dieu! EntwedertransubstantialityODER consubstantiality
butinnocasesubsubstantiality.Andallcriedoutuponitforaveryscurvyword.Apregnancy
withoutjoy,hesaid,abirthwithoutpangs,abodywithoutblemish,abellywithoutbigness.
Letthelewdwithfaithandfervourworship.Withwillwillwewithstand,withsay.
HereuponPunchCostellodingedwithhisfistupontheboardandwouldsingabawdycatch
StabooStabellaaboutawenchthatwasputinpodofajollyswashbucklerinAlmanywhich
hedidstraightwaysnowattack:Thefirstthreemonthsshewasnotwell,Staboo,whenhere
nurseQuigleyfromthedoorangerlybidthemhistyeshouldshameyounorwasitnotmeetas
sherememberedthembeinghermindwastohaveallorderlyagainstlordAndrewcamefor
becauseshewasjealousthatnogastefulturmoilmightshortenthehonourofherguard.Itwas
anancientandasadmatronofasedatelookandchristianwalking,inhabitdunbeseeming
her megrims and wrinkled visage, nor did her hortative want of it effect for incontinently
Punch Costello was of themall embraided and theyreclaimedthe churl with civil rudeness
someandshakedhimwithmenaceofblandishmentsotherswhilestheyallchodewithhim,a
murrain seize the dolt, what a devil he would be at, thou chuff, thou puny, thou got in
peasestraw,thoulosel,thouchitterling,thouspawnofarebel,thoudykedropt,thouabortion
thou,toshutuphisdrunkendrooloutofthatlikeacurseofGodape,thegoodsirLeopold
that had for his cognisance the flower of quiet, margerain gentle, advising also the time's
occasion as most sacred and most worthy to be most sacred. In Horne's house rest should
reign.
To be short this passage was scarce by when Master Dixon of Mary in Eccles, goodly
grinning,askedyoungStephenwhatwasthereasonwhyhehadnotcidedtotakefriar'svows
andheansweredhimobedienceinthewomb,chastityinthetombbutinvoluntarypovertyall
hisdays.MasterLenehanatthismadereturnthathehadheardofthosenefariousdeedsand
how, as he heard hereof counted, he had besmirched the lily virtue of a confiding female

whichwascorruptionofminorsandtheyallintershowedittoo,waxingmerryandtoastingto
hisfathership.Buthesaidveryentirelyitwascleancontrarytotheirsupposeforhewasthe
eternalsonandevervirgin.Thereatmirthgrewinthemthemoreandtheyrehearsedtohim
hiscuriousriteofwedlockforthedisrobinganddefloweringofspouses,asthepriestsusein
Madagascarisland,shetobeinguiseofwhiteandsaffron,hergroominwhiteandgrain,with
burningofnardandtapers,onabridebedwhileclerkssungkyriesandtheanthemUtnovetur
sexus omnis corporis mysterium till she was there unmaided. He gave them then a much
admirable hymen minim by those delicate poets Master John Fletcher and Master Francis
BeaumontthatisintheirMaid'sTragedythatwaswritforaliketwiningoflovers:Tobed,to
bed was the burden of it to be played with accompanable concent upon the virginals. An
exquisite dulcet epithalame of most mollificative suadency for juveniles amatory whom the
odoriferous flambeaus of the paranymphs have escorted to the quadrupedal proscenium of
connubialcommunion.Wellmettheywere,saidMasterDixon,joyed,but,harkee,youngsir,
betterweretheynamedBeauMountandLecherfor,bymytroth,ofsuchaminglingmuch
mightcome.YoungStephensaidindeedtohisbestremembrancetheyhadbuttheonedoxy
between them and she of the stews to make shift with in delights amorous for life ran very
highinthosedaysandthecustomofthecountryapprovedwithit.Greaterlovethanthis,he
said,nomanhaththatamanlaydownhiswifeforhisfriend.Gothouanddolikewise.Thus,
or words to that effect, saith Zarathustra, sometime regius professorof French letters tothe
universityofOxtailnorbreathedthereeverthatmantowhommankindwasmorebeholden.
Bringastrangerwithinthytoweritwillgohardbutthouwilthavethesecondbestbed.Orate,
fratres,promemetipso.Andallthepeopleshallsay,Amen.Remember,Erin,thygenerations
and thy days of old, how thou settedst little by me and by my word and broughtedst in a
strangertomygatestocommitfornicationinmysightandtowaxfatandkicklikeJeshurum.
Thereforehast thou sinned against my light and hast made me, thy lord, to be the slave of
servants. Return, return, Clan Milly: forget me not, O Milesian. Why hast thou done this
abominationbeforemethatthoudidstspurnmeforamerchantofjalapsanddidstdenymeto
the Roman and to the Indian of dark speech with whom thy daughters did lie luxuriously?
Look forth now, my people, upon the land of behest, even from Horeb and from Nebo and
fromPisgahandfromtheHornsofHattenuntoalandflowingwithmilkandmoney.Butthou
hastsuckledmewithabittermilk:mymoonandmysunthouhastquenchedforever.And
thouhastleftmealoneforeverinthedark waysofmy bitterness: and with akissof ashes
hastthoukissedmymouth.Thistenebrosityoftheinterior,heproceededtosay,hathnotbeen
illuminedbythewitoftheseptuagintnorsomuchasmentionedfortheOrientfromonhigh
Which brake hell's gates visited a darkness that was foraneous. Assuefaction minorates
atrocities (as Tully saith of his darling Stoics) and Hamlet his father showeth the prince no
blister of combustion. The adiaphane in the noon of life is an Egypt's plague which in the
nights of prenativity and postmortemity is their most proper ubi and quomodo. And as the
endsandultimatesofallthingsaccordinsomemeanandmeasurewiththeirinceptionsand
originals, that same multiplicit concordance which leads forth growth from birth
accomplishingbyaretrogressivemetamorphosisthatminishingandablationtowardsthefinal
whichisagreeableuntonaturesoisitwithoursubsolarbeing.Theagedsistersdrawusinto
life: we wail, batten, sport, clip, clasp, sunder, dwindle, die: over us dead they bend. First,
savedfromwatersofoldNile,amongbulrushes,abedoffasciatedwattles:atlastthecavity
ofamountain,anoccultedsepulchreamidtheconclamationofthehillcatandtheossifrage.
Andasnomanknowstheubicityofhistumulusnortowhatprocessesweshalltherebybe
usherednorwhethertoTophetortoEdenvilleinthelikewayisallhiddenwhenwewould
backwardseefromwhatregionofremotenessthewhatnessofourwhonesshathfetchedhis
whenceness.
Thereto Punch Costello roared out mainly Etienne chanson but he loudly bid them, lo,
wisdomhathbuiltherselfahouse,thisvastmajesticlongstablishedvault,thecrystalpalaceof
theCreator,allinapplepieorder,apennyforhimwhofindsthepea.
BeholdthemansionrearedbydedalJack
Seethemaltstoredinmanyarefluentsack,

IntheproudcirqueofJackjohn'sbivouac.

Ablackcrackofnoiseinthestreethere,alack,bawledback.LoudonleftThorthundered:
inangerawfulthehammerhurler.Camenowthestormthathisthisheart.AndMasterLynch
badehimhaveacaretofloutandwitwantonasthegodselfwasangeredforhishellprateand
paganry.Andhethathaderstchallengedtobesodoughtywaxedwanastheymightallmark
andshranktogetherandhispitchthatwasbeforesohaughtupliftwasnowofasuddenquite
pluckeddownandhisheartshookwithinthecageofhisbreastashetastedtherumourofthat
storm. Then did some mock and some jeer and Punch Costello fell hard again to his yale
whichMasterLenehanvowedhewoulddoafterandhewasindeedbutawordandablowon
anytheleastcolour.ButthebraggartboastercriedthatanoldNobodaddywasinhiscupsit
wasmuchwhatindifferentandhewouldnotlagbehindhislead.Butthiswasonlytodyehis
desperationascowedhecrouchedinHorne'shall.Hedrankindeedatonedraughttopluckup
a heart of any grace for it thundered long rumblingly over all the heavens so that Master
Madden, being godly certain whiles, knocked him on his ribs upon that crack of doom and
MasterBloom,atthebraggart'sside,spoketohimcalmingwordstoslumberhisgreatfear,
advertisinghowitwasnootherthingbutahubbubnoisethatheheard,thedischargeoffluid
from the thunderhead, look you, having taken place, and all of the order of a natural
phenomenon.
But was young Boasthard's fear vanquished by Calmer's words? No, for he had in his
bosomaspikenamedBitternesswhichcouldnotbywordsbedoneaway.Andwashethen
neithercalmliketheonenorgodlyliketheother?Hewasneitherasmuchashewouldhave
likedtobeeither.Butcouldhenothaveendeavouredtohavefoundagainasinhisyouththe
bottleHolinessthatthenhelivedwithal?IndeednoforGracewasnottheretofindthatbottle.
HeardhetheninthatclapthevoiceofthegodBringforthor,whatCalmersaid,ahubbubof
Phenomenon? Heard? Why, he could not but hear unless he had plugged him up the tube
Understanding(whichhehadnotdone).Forthroughthattubehesawthathewasintheland
ofPhenomenonwherehemustforacertainonedaydieashewasliketheresttooapassing
show. And would he not accept to die like the rest and pass away? By no means would he
though he must nor would he make more shows according as men do with wives which
Phenomenon has commanded them to do by the book Law. Then wotted he nought of that
other land which is called BelieveonMe, that is the land of promise which behoves to the
kingDelightfulandshallbeforeverwherethereisnodeathandnobirthneitherwivingnor
motheringatwhichallshallcomeasmanyasbelieveonit?Yes,Pioushadtoldhimofthat
landandChastehadpointedhimtothewaybutthereasonwasthatinthewayhefellinwith
acertainwhoreofaneyepleasingexteriorwhosename,shesaid,isBirdintheHandandshe
beguiledhimwrongwaysfromthetruepathbyherflatteriesthatshesaidtohimas,Ho,you
pretty man, turn aside hither and I will show you a brave place, and she lay at him so
flatteringlythatshehadhiminhergrotwhichisnamedTwointheBushor,bysomelearned,
CarnalConcupiscence.
ThiswasitwhatallthatcompanythatsatthereatcommonsinManseofMothersthemost
lusted after and if they met with this whore BirdintheHand (which was within all foul
plagues,monstersandawickeddevil)theywouldstrainthelastbuttheywouldmakeather
andknowher.ForregardingBelieveonMetheysaiditwasnoughtelsebutnotionandthey
could conceive no thought of it for, first, TwointheBush whither she ticed them was the
verygoodliestgrotandinitwerefourpillowsonwhichwerefourticketswiththesewords
printedonthem,PickabackandTopsyturvyandShamefaceandCheekbyJowland,second,
for that foul plague Allpox and the monsters they cared not for them for Preservative had
given them a stout shield of oxengut and, third, that they might take no hurt neither from
OffspringthatwasthatwickeddevilbyvirtueofthissameshieldwhichwasnamedKillchild.
Soweretheyallintheirblindfancy,MrCavilandMrSometimesGodly,MrApeSwillale,
MrFalseFranklin,MrDaintyDixon,YoungBoasthardandMrCautiousCalmer.Wherein,O
wretchedcompany,wereyealldeceivedforthatwasthevoiceofthegodthatwasinavery
grievousragethathewouldpresentlylifthisarmupandspilltheirsoulsfortheirabusesand

theirspillingsdonebythemcontrariwisetohiswordwhichforthtobringbrenninglybiddeth.
So Thursday sixteenth June Patk. Dignam laid in clay of an apoplexy and after hard
drought,pleaseGod,rained,abargemancominginbywaterafiftymileorthereaboutwith
turf saying the seed won't sprout, fields athirst, very sadcoloured and stunk mightily, the
quagsandtoftstoo.Hardtobreatheandalltheyoungquickscleanconsumedwithoutsprinkle
thislongwhilebackasnomanrememberedtobewithout.Therosybudsallgonebrownand
spreadoutblobsandonthehillsnoughtbutdryflagandfaggotsthatwouldcatchatfirstfire.
Alltheworldsaying,foraughttheyknew,thebigwindoflastFebruaryayearthatdidhavoc
thelandsopitifullyasmallthingbesidethisbarrenness.Butbyandby,assaid,thisevening
after sundown, the wind sitting in the west, biggish swollen clouds to be seen as the night
increasedandtheweatherwiseporingupatthemandsomesheetlightningsatfirstandafter,
pasttenoftheclock,onegreatstrokewithalongthunderandinabraceofshakesallscamper
pellmellwithindoorforthesmokingshower,themenmakingshelterfortheirstrawswitha
cloutorkerchief,womenfolkskippingoffwithkirtlescatchedupsoonasthepourcame.In
Ely place, Baggot street, Duke's lawn, thence through Merrion green up to Holles street a
swash of water flowing that was before bonedry and not one chair or coach or fiacre seen
aboutbutnomorecrackafterthatfirst.OveragainsttheRt.Hon.MrJusticeFitzgibbon'sdoor
(thatistositwithMrHealythelawyeruponthecollegelands)Mal.Mulliganagentleman's
gentlemanthathadbutcomefromMrMoore'sthewriter's(thatwasapapishbutisnow,folk
say,agood Williamite) chanced against Alec. Bannon in a cut bob (which are now in with
dancecloaksofKendalgreen)thatwasnewgottotownfromMullingarwiththestagewhere
hiscozandMalM'sbrotherwillstayamonthyettillSaintSwithinandaskswhatintheearth
hedoesthere,heboundhomeandhetoAndrewHorne'sbeingstayedfortocrushacupof
wine,sohesaid,butwouldtellhimofaskittishheifer,bigofherageandbeeftotheheel,and
all this while poured with rain and so both together on to Horne's. There Leop. Bloom of
Crawford's journal sitting snug with a covey of wags, likely brangling fellows, Dixon jun.,
scholarofmyladyofMercy's,Vin.Lynch,aScotsfellow,Will.Madden,T.Lenehan, very
sadaboutaracerhefanciedandStephenD.Leop.Bloomthereforalanguorhehadbutwas
nowbetter,behavingdreamedtonightastrangefancyofhisdameMrsMollwithredslippers
oninapairofTurkeytrunkswhichisthoughtbythoseinkentobeforachangeandMistress
Purefoythere,thatgotinthroughpleadingherbelly,andnowonthestools,poorbody,two
days past her term, the midwives sore put to it and can't deliver, she queasy for a bowl of
riceslopthatisashrewddrierupoftheinsidesandherbreathveryheavymorethangoodand
shouldbeabullyboyfromtheknocks,theysay,butGodgivehersoonissue. 'Tis her ninth
chicktolive,Ihear,andLadydaybitoffherlastchick'snailsthatwasthenatwelvemonth
andwithotherthreeallbreastfedthatdiedwrittenoutinafairhandintheking'sbible.Her
hubfiftyoddandamethodistbuttakesthesacramentandistobeseenanyfairsabbathwitha
pair of his boys off Bullock harbour dapping on the sound with a heavybraked reel or in a
punthehastrailingforflounderandpollockandcatchesafinebag,Ihear.Insumaninfinite
greatfallofrainandallrefreshedandwillmuchincreasetheharvestyetthoseinkensayafter
windandwaterfireshallcomeforaprognosticationofMalachi'salmanac(andIhearthatMr
RussellhasdoneapropheticalcharmofthesamegistoutoftheHindustanishforhisfarmer's
gazette) to have three things in all but this a mere fetch without bottom of reason for old
crones and bairns yet sometimes they are found in the right guess with their queerities no
tellinghow.
WiththiscameupLenehantothefeetofthetabletosayhowtheletterwasinthatnight's
gazetteandhemadeashowtofinditabouthim(forhesworewithanoaththathehadbeenat
painsaboutit)butonStephen'spersuasionhegaveoverthesearchandwasbiddentositnear
bywhichhedidmightybrisk.Hewasakindofsportgentlemanthatwentforamerryandrew
orhonestpickleandwhatbelongedofwomen,horsefleshorhotscandalhehaditpat.Totell
thetruthhewasmeaninfortunesandforthemostparthankeredaboutthecoffeehousesand
lowtavernswithcrimps,ostlers,bookies,Paul'smen,runners,flatcaps,waistcoateers,ladies
ofthebagnioandotherroguesofthegameorwithachanceablecatchpoleoratipstaffoften
atnightstillbroaddayofwhomhepickedupbetweenhissackpossetsmuchloosegossip.He

tookhisordinaryataboilingcook'sandifhehadbutgottenintohimamessofbrokenvictuals
oraplatteroftripeswithabaretesterinhispursehecouldalwaysbringhimselfoffwithhis
tongue, some randy quip he had from a punk or whatnot that every mother's son of them
wouldbursttheirsides.Theother,Costellothatis,hearingthistalkaskedwasitpoetryora
tale. Faith, no, he says, Frank (that was his name), 'tis all about Kerry cows that are to be
butcheredalongoftheplague.Buttheycangohang,sayshewithawink,formewiththeir
bullybeef,apoxonit.There'sasgoodfishinthistinasevercameoutofitandveryfriendly
he offered to take of some salty sprats that stood by which he had eyed wishly in the
meantimeandfoundtheplacewhichwasindeedthechiefdesignofhisembassyashewas
sharpset.Mortauxvaches,saysFrankthenintheFrenchlanguagethathadbeenindenturedto
abrandyshipperthathasawinelodgeinBordeauxandhespokeFrenchlikeagentlemantoo.
From a child this Frank had been a donought that his father, a headborough, who could ill
keephimtoschooltolearnhislettersandtheuseoftheglobes,matriculatedattheuniversity
to study the mechanics but he took the bit between his teeth like a raw colt and was more
familiarwiththejusticiaryandtheparishbeadlethanwithhisvolumes.Onetimehewouldbe
aplayactor,thenasutlerorawelsher,thennoughtwouldkeephimfromthebearpitandthe
cockingmain,thenhewasfortheoceanseaortohoofitontheroadswiththeromanyfolk,
kidnappingasquire'sheirbyfavourofmoonlightorfeckingmaids'linenorchokingchicken
behindahedge.Hehadbeenoffasmanytimesasacathaslivesandbackagainwithnaked
pocketsasmanymoretohisfathertheheadboroughwhoshedapintoftearsasoftenashe
sawhim.What,saysMrLeopoldwithhishandsacross,thatwasearnesttoknowthedriftof
it,willtheyslaughterall?Iprotest I saw them but this day morning going to the Liverpool
boats, says he. I can scarce believe 'tis so bad, says he. And he had experience of the like
brood beasts and of springers, greasy hoggets and wether wool, having been some years
beforeactuaryforMrJosephCuffe,aworthysalesmasterthatdrovehistradeforlivestock
and meadow auctions hard by Mr Gavin Low's yard in Prussia street. I question with you
there,sayshe.Morelike'tisthehooseorthetimbertongue.MrStephen,alittlemovedbut
veryhandsomelytoldhimnosuchmatterandthathehaddispatchesfromtheemperor'schief
tailtickler thanking him for the hospitality, that was sending over Doctor Rinderpest, the
bestquotedcowcatcherinallMuscovy,withabolusortwoofphysictotakethebullbythe
horns. Come, come, says Mr Vincent, plain dealing. He'll find himself on the horns of a
dilemmaifhemeddleswithabullthat'sIrish,sayshe.Irishbynameandirishbynature,says
Mr Stephen, and he sent the ale purling about, an Irish bull in an English chinashop. I
conceive you, says Mr Dixon. It is that same bull that was sent to our island by farmer
Nicholas,thebravestcattlebreederofthemall,withanemeraldringinhisnose.Trueforyou,
saysMrVincentcrossthetable,andabullseyeintothebargain,sayshe,andaplumperanda
portlierbull,sayshe,nevershitonshamrock.Hehadhornsgalore,acoatofclothofgoldand
a sweet smoky breath coming out of his nostrils so that the women of our island, leaving
doughballsandrollingpins,followedafterhimhanginghisbullinessindaisychains.Whatfor
that, says Mr Dixon, but before he came over farmer Nicholas that was a eunuch had him
properlygeldedbyacollegeofdoctorswhowerenobetteroffthanhimself.Sobeoffnow,
sayshe,anddoallmycousingermanthelordHarrytellsyouandtakeafarmer'sblessing,and
with that he slapped his posteriors very soundly. But the slap and the blessing stood him
friend,saysMrVincent,fortomakeuphetaughthimatrickworthtwooftheothersothat
maid,wife,abbessandwidowtothisdayaffirmthattheywouldratheranytimeofthemonth
whisper in his ear in the dark of a cowhouse or get a lick on the nape from his long holy
tongue than lie with the finest strapping young ravisher in the four fields of all Ireland.
Another then put in his word: And they dressed him, says he, in a point shift and petticoat
withatippetandgirdleandrufflesonhiswristsandclippedhisforelockandrubbedhimall
over with spermacetic oil and built stables for him at every turn of the road with a gold
mangerineachfullofthebesthayinthemarketsothathecoulddossanddungtohisheart's
content.Bythistime the father of the faithful (for so they called him) was grown so heavy
that he could scarce walk to pasture. To remedy which our cozening dames and damsels
broughthimhisfodderintheirapronlapsandassoonashisbellywasfullhewouldrearupon

his hind uarters to show their ladyships a mystery and roar and bellow out of him in bulls'
language and they all after him. Ay, says another, and so pampered was he that he would
suffernoughttogrowinallthelandbutgreengrassforhimself(forthatwastheonlycolour
to his mind) and there was a board put up on a hillock in the middle of the island with a
printednotice,saying:BytheLordHarry,Greenisthegrassthatgrowsontheground.And,
saysMrDixon,ifeverhegotscentofacattleraiderinRoscommonorthewildsofConnemara
or a husbandman in Sligo that was sowing as much as a handful of mustard or a bag of
rapeseedouthe'drunamokoverhalfthecountrysiderootingupwithhishornswhateverwas
planted and all by lord Harry's orders. There was bad blood between them at first, says Mr
Vincent,andthelordHarrycalledfarmerNicholasalltheoldNicksintheworldandanold
whoremaster that kept seven trulls in his house and I'll meddle in his matters, says he. I'll
makethatanimalsmellhell,sayshe,withthehelpofthatgoodpizzlemyfatherleftme.But
oneevening,saysMrDixon,whenthelordHarrywascleaninghisroyalpelttogotodinner
afterwinningaboatrace(hehadspadeoarsforhimselfbutthefirstruleofthecoursewasthat
theothersweretorowwithpitchforks)hediscoveredinhimselfawonderfullikenesstoabull
andonpickingupablackthumbedchapbookthathekeptinthepantryhefoundsureenough
thathewasalefthandeddescendantofthefamouschampionbulloftheRomans,BosBovum,
whichisgoodbogLatinforbossoftheshow.Afterthat,saysMrVincent,thelordHarryput
hisheadintoacow'sdrinkingtroughinthepresenceofallhiscourtiersandpullingitoutagain
toldthemallhisnewname.Then,withthewaterrunningoffhim,hegotintoanoldsmock
andskirtthathadbelongedtohisgrandmotherandboughtagrammarofthebulls'languageto
studybuthecouldneverlearnawordofitexceptthefirstpersonalpronounwhichhecopied
outbigandgotoffbyheartandifeverhewentoutforawalkhefilledhispocketswithchalk
towriteituponwhattookhisfancy,thesideofarockorateahousetableorabaleofcotton
oracorkfloat.Inshort,heandthebullofIrelandweresoonasfastfriendsasanarseanda
shirt.Theywere,saysMrStephen,andtheendwasthatthemenoftheislandseeingnohelp
was toward, as the ungrate women were all of one mind, made a wherry raft, loaded
themselvesandtheirbundlesofchattelsonshipboard,setallmastserect,mannedtheyards,
sprangtheirluff,heavedto,spreadthreesheetsinthewind,putherheadbetweenwindand
water,weighedanchor,portedherhelm,ranupthejollyRoger,gavethreetimesthree,letthe
bullgine run, pushed off in their bumboat and put to sea to recover the main of America.
Whichwastheoccasion,saysMrVincent,ofthecomposingbyaboatswainofthatrollicking
chanty:
PopePeter'sbutapissabed.
Aman'samanfora'that.

Our worthy acquaintance Mr Malachi Mulligan now appeared in the doorway as the
students were finishing their apologue accompanied with a friend whom he had just
rencountered,ayounggentleman,hisnameAlecBannon,whohadlatecometotown,itbeing
hisintentiontobuyacolouroracornetcyinthefenciblesandlistforthewars.MrMulligan
wascivilenoughtoexpresssomerelishofitallthemoreasitjumpedwithaprojectofhis
ownforthecureoftheveryevilthathadbeentouchedon.Whereathehandedroundtothe
companyasetofpasteboardcardswhichhehadhadprintedthatdayatMrQuinnell'sbearing
a legend printed in fair italics: Mr Malachi Mulligan. Fertiliser and Incubator. Lambay
Island. His project, as he went on to expound, was to withdraw from the round of idle
pleasuressuchasformthechiefbusinessofsirFoplingPopinjayandsirMilksopQuidnuncin
town and to devote himself to the noblest task for which our bodily organism has been
framed.Well,letushearofit,goodmyfriend,saidMrDixon.Imakenodoubtitsmacksof
wenching.Come,beseated,both.'Tisascheapsittingasstanding.MrMulliganacceptedof
theinvitationand,expatiatinguponhisdesign,toldhishearersthathehadbeenledintothis
thoughtbyaconsiderationofthecausesofsterility,boththeinhibitoryandtheprohibitory,
whether the inhibition in its turn were due to conjugal vexations or to a parsimony of the
balance as well as whether the prohibition proceeded from defects congenital or from
proclivitiesacquired.Itgrievedhimplaguily,hesaid,toseethenuptialcouchdefraudedofits

dearestpledges:andtoreflectuponsomanyagreeablefemaleswithrichjointures,apreyto
thevilestbonzes,whohidetheirflambeauunderabushelinanuncongenialcloisterorlose
their womanly bloom in the embraces of some unaccountable muskin when they might
multiplytheinletsofhappiness,sacrificingtheinestimablejeweloftheirsexwhenahundred
prettyfellowswereathandtocaress,this,heassuredthem,madehisheartweep.Tocurbthis
inconvenient (which he concluded due to a suppression of latent heat), havingadvisedwith
certaincounsellorsofworthandinspectedintothismatter,hehadresolvedtopurchaseinfee
simple for ever the freehold of Lambay island from its holder, lord Talbot de Malahide, a
Tory gentleman of note much in favour with our ascendancy party. He proposed to set up
thereanationalfertilisingfarmtobenamedOmphaloswithanobeliskhewnanderectedafter
the fashion of Egypt and to offer his dutiful yeoman services for the fecundation of any
femaleofwhatgradeoflifesoeverwhoshouldtheredirecttohimwiththedesireoffulfilling
thefunctionsofhernatural.Moneywasnoobject,hesaid,norwouldhetakeapennyforhis
pains. The poorest kitchenwench no less than the opulent lady of fashion, if so be their
constructionsandtheirtemperswerewarmpersuadersfortheirpetitions,wouldfindinhim
theirman.Forhisnutrimentheshewedhowhewouldfeedhimselfexclusivelyuponadietof
savoury tubercles and fish and coneys there, the flesh of these latter prolific rodents being
highlyrecommendedforhispurpose,bothbroiledandstewedwithabladeofmaceandapod
or two of capsicum chillies. After this homily which he delivered with much warmth of
asseverationMrMulliganinatriceputofffromhishatakerchiefwithwhichhehadshielded
it.Theyboth,itseems,hadbeenovertakenbytherainandforalltheirmendingtheirpacehad
takenwater,asmightbeobservedbyMrMulligan'ssmallclothesofahoddengreywhichwas
now somewhat piebald. His project meanwhile was very favourably entertained by his
auditorsandwonheartyeulogiesfromallthoughMrDixonofMary'sexceptedtoit,asking
with a finicking air did he purpose also to carry coals to Newcastle. Mr Mulligan however
madecourttothescholarlybyanaptquotationfromtheclassicswhich,asitdweltuponhis
memory, seemed to him a sound and tasteful support of his contention: Talis ac tanta
depravatiohujusseculi,Oquirites,utmatresfamiliarumnostraelascivascujuslibet semiviri
libici titillationes testibus ponderosis atque excelsis erectionibus centurionum Romanorum
magnopereanteponunt,whileforthoseofruderwithedrovehomehispointbyanalogiesof
theanimalkingdommoresuitabletotheirstomach,thebuckanddoeoftheforestglade,the
farmyarddrakeandduck.
Valuing himself not a little upon his elegance, being indeed a proper man ofperson,this
talkativenowappliedhimselftohisdresswithanimadversionsofsomeheatuponthesudden
whimsyoftheatmosphericswhilethecompanylavishedtheirencomiumsupontheprojecthe
hadadvanced.Theyounggentleman,hisfriend,overjoyedashewasatapassagethathadlate
befallenhim,couldnotforbeartotellithisnearestneighbour.MrMulligan,nowperceiving
thetable,askedforwhomwerethoseloavesandfishesand,seeingthestranger,hemadehim
acivilbowandsaid,Pray,sir,wasyouinneedofanyprofessionalassistancewecouldgive?
Who, upon his offer, thanked him very heartily, though preserving his proper distance, and
repliedthathewascomethereaboutalady,nowaninmateofHorne'shouse,thatwasinan
interesting condition, poor body, from woman's woe (and here he fetched a deep sigh) to
knowifherhappinesshadyettakenplace.MrDixon,toturnthetable,tookontoaskofMr
Mulliganhimselfwhetherhisincipientventripotence,upon whichhe rallied him, betokened
an ovoblastic gestation in the prostatic utricle or male womb or was due, as with the noted
physician,MrAustinMeldon,toawolfinthestomach.ForanswerMrMulligan,inagaleof
laughter at his smalls, smote himself bravely below the diaphragm, exclaiming with an
admirable droll mimic of Mother Grogan (the most excellent creature of her sex though 'tis
pityshe'satrollop):There'sabellythatneverboreabastard.Thiswassohappyaconceitthat
itrenewed the storm of mirth and threw the whole room into the most violent agitations of
delight. The spry rattle had run on in the same vein of mimicry but for some larum in the
antechamber.
Here the listener who was none other than the Scotch student, a little fume of a fellow,
blondastow,congratulatedintheliveliestfashionwiththeyounggentlemanand,interrupting

the narrative at a salient point, having desired his visavis with a polite beck to have the
obligingnesstopasshimaflagonofcordialwatersatthesametimebyaquestioningpoiseof
thehead(awholecenturyofpolitebreedinghadnotachievedsoniceagesture)towhichwas
united an equivalent but contrary balance of the bottle asked the narrator as plainly as was
everdoneinwordsifhemighttreathimwithacupofit.Maisbiensr,noblestranger,said
hecheerily,etmillecompliments.Thatyoumayandveryopportunely.Therewantednothing
but this cup to crown my felicity. But, gracious heaven, was I left with but a crust in my
walletandacupfulofwaterfromthewell,myGod,Iwouldacceptofthemandfinditinmy
hearttokneeldownuponthegroundandgivethankstothepowersaboveforthehappiness
vouchsafedmebytheGiverofgoodthings.Withthesewordsheapproachedthegoblettohis
lips,tookacomplacentdraught of the cordial, slicked his hair and, opening his bosom, out
poppedalocketthathungfromasilkriband,thatverypicturewhichhehadcherishedever
sinceherhandhadwrotetherein.Gazinguponthosefeatureswithaworldoftenderness,Ah,
Monsieur,hesaid,hadyoubutbeheldherasIdidwiththeseeyesatthataffectinginstantwith
herdaintytuckerandhernewcoquettecap(agiftforherfeastdayasshetoldmeprettily)in
suchanartlessdisorder,ofsomeltingatenderness,'ponmyconscience,evenyou,Monsieur,
had been impelled by generous nature to deliver yourself wholly into the hands of such an
enemy or to quit the field for ever. I declare, I was never so touched in all my life. God, I
thankthee,astheAuthorofmydays!Thricehappywillhebewhomso amiable a creature
will bless with her favours. A sigh of affection gave eloquence to these words and, having
replacedthelocketinhisbosom,hewipedhiseyeandsighedagain.BeneficentDisseminator
of blessings to all Thy creatures, how great and universal must be that sweetest of Thy
tyrannies which can hold in thrall the free and the bond, thesimpleswainandthe polished
coxcomb,theloverintheheydayofrecklesspassionandthehusbandofmatureryears.But
indeed,sir,Iwanderfromthepoint.Howmingledandimperfectarealloursublunaryjoys.
Maledicity!heexclaimedinanguish.WouldtoGodthatforesighthadbutrememberedmeto
takemycloakalong!Icouldweeptothinkofit.Then,thoughithadpouredsevenshowers,
we were neither of us a penny the worse. But beshrew me, he cried, clapping hand to his
forehead, tomorrow will be a new day and, thousand thunders, I know of a marchand de
capotes, Monsieur Poyntz, from whom I can have for a livre as snug a cloak of the French
fashionaseverkeptaladyfromwetting.Tut,tut!criesLeFecondateur,trippingin,myfriend
Monsieur Moore, that most accomplished traveller (I have just cracked a half bottle AVEC
LUIinacircleofthebestwitsofthetown),ismyauthoritythatinCapeHorn,ventrebiche,
they have a rain that will wet through any, even the stoutest cloak. A drenching of that
violence, he tells me, sans blague, has sent more than one luckless fellow in good earnest
posthastetoanotherworld.Pooh!Alivre!criesMonsieurLynch.Theclumsythingsaredear
atasou.Oneumbrella,wereitnobiggerthanafairymushroom,isworthtensuchstopgaps.
Nowomanofanywitwouldwearone.MydearKittytoldmetodaythatshewoulddanceina
deluge before ever she would starve in such an ark of salvation for, as she reminded me
(blushingpiquantlyandwhisperinginmyearthoughtherewasnonetosnapher words but
giddybutterflies),dameNature,bythedivineblessing,hasimplanteditinourheartsandit
hasbecomeahouseholdwordthatilyadeuxchosesforwhichtheinnocenceofouroriginal
garb,inothercircumstancesabreachoftheproprieties,isthefittest,nay,theonlygarment.
Thefirst,saidshe(andheremyprettyphilosopher,asIhandedhertohertilbury,tofixmy
attention,gentlytippedwithhertonguetheouterchamberofmyear),thefirstisabath...But
atthispointabelltinklinginthehallcutshortadiscoursewhichpromisedsobravelyforthe
enrichmentofourstoreofknowledge.
Amid the general vacant hilarity of the assembly a bell rang and, while all were
conjecturingwhatmightbethecause,MissCallanenteredand,havingspokenafewwordsin
a low tone to young Mr Dixon, retired with a profound bow to the company. The presence
evenforamomentamongapartyof debauchees of a woman endued with every quality of
modestyandnotlessseverethanbeautifulrefrainedthehumouroussalliesevenofthemost
licentious but her departure was the signal for an outbreak of ribaldry. Strike me silly, said
Costello,alowfellowwhowasfuddled.Amonstrousfinebitofcowflesh!I'llbeswornshe

hasrendezvousedyou.What,youdog?Haveyouawaywiththem?Gad'sbud,immenselyso,
saidMrLynch.ThebedsidemanneritisthattheyuseintheMaterhospice.Demme,doesnot
DoctorO'Garglechuckthenunsthereunderthechin.AsIlooktobesavedIhaditfrommy
Kittywhohasbeenwardmaidthereanytimethesesevenmonths.Lawksamercy,doctor,cried
the young blood in the primrose vest, feigning a womanish simper and with immodest
squirmingsofhisbody,howyoudoteaseabody!Drattheman!Blessme,I'mallofawibbly
wobbly.Why,you'reasbadasdearlittleFatherCantekissem,thatyouare!Maythispotof
fourhalfchokeme,criedCostello,ifsheaintinthefamilyway.Iknowsaladywhat'sgota
whiteswellingquickasIclapseyesonher.Theyoungsurgeon,however,roseandbeggedthe
companytoexcusehisretreatasthenursehadjusttheninformedhimthathewasneededin
theward.Mercifulprovidencehadbeenpleasedtoputaperiodtothesufferingsofthelady
whowasenceintewhichshehadbornewithalaudablefortitudeandshehadgivenbirthtoa
bouncingboy.Iwantpatience,saidhe,withthosewho,withoutwittoenlivenorlearningto
instruct, revile an ennobling profession which, saving the reverence due to the Deity, is the
greatestpowerforhappinessupontheearth.IampositivewhenIsaythatifneedwereIcould
produceacloudofwitnessestotheexcellenceofhernobleexercitationswhich,sofarfrom
beingabyword,shouldbeagloriousincentiveinthehumanbreast.Icannotawaywiththem.
What?Malignsuchanone,theamiableMissCallan,whoisthelustreofherownsexandthe
astonishmentofours?Andataninstantthemostmomentousthatcanbefallapunychildof
clay? Perishthe thought! I shudder to think of the future of a race where the seeds of such
malicehavebeensownandwherenorightreverenceisrenderedtomotherandmaidinhouse
of Horne. Having delivered himself of this rebuke he saluted those present on the by and
repairedtothedoor.Amurmurofapprovalarosefromallandsomewereforejectingthelow
soaker without more ado, a design which would have been effected nor would he have
receivedmorethanhisbaredesertshadhenotabridgedhistransgressionbyaffirmingwitha
horridimprecation(forhesworearoundhand)thathewasasgoodasonofthetruefoldas
ever drew breath. Stap my vitals, said he, them was always the sentiments of honest Frank
CostellowhichIwasbredupmostparticulartohonourthyfatherandthymotherthathadthe
besthandtoarolypolyorahastypuddingasyoueverseewhatIalwayslooksbackonwitha
lovingheart.
To revert to Mr Bloom who, after his first entry, had been conscious of some impudent
mocks which he however had borne with as being the fruits of that age upon which it is
commonly charged that it knows not pity. The young sparks, it is true, were as full of
extravagancies as overgrown children: the words of their tumultuary discussions were
difficultlyunderstoodandnotoftennice:theirtestinessandoutrageousmotswere such that
hisintellectsresiledfrom:norweretheyscrupulouslysensibleoftheproprietiesthoughtheir
fund of strong animal spirits spoke in their behalf. But the word of Mr Costello was an
unwelcome language for him for he nauseated the wretch that seemed to him a cropeared
creature of a misshapen gibbosity, born out of wedlock and thrust like a crookback toothed
andfeetfirstintotheworld,whichthedintofthesurgeon'spliersinhisskulllentindeeda
colourto,soastoputhiminthoughtofthatmissinglinkofcreation'schaindesideratedbythe
lateingeniousMrDarwin.Itwasnowformorethanthemiddlespanofourallottedyearsthat
hehadpassedthroughthethousandvicissitudesofexistenceand,beingofawaryascendancy
and self a man of rare forecast, he had enjoined his heart to repress all motions of a rising
choler and, by intercepting them with the readiest precaution, foster within his breast that
plenitudeofsufferancewhichbasemindsjeerat,rashjudgersscornandallfindtolerableand
buttolerable.Tothosewhocreatethemselveswitsatthecostoffemininedelicacy(ahabitof
mindwhichheneverdidholdwith)tothemhewouldconcedeneithertobearthenamenorto
heritthetraditionofaproperbreeding:whileforsuchthat,having lost all forbearance, can
losenomore,thereremainedthesharpantidoteofexperiencetocausetheirinsolencytobeat
aprecipitateandingloriousretreat.Notbutwhathecouldfeelwithmettlesomeyouthwhich,
caringnoughtforthemowsofdotardsorthegruntlingsofthesevere,isever(asthechaste
fancyoftheHolyWriterexpressesit)foreatingofthetreeforbidityetnotsofarforthasto
pretermithumanityupon any condition soever towards a gentlewoman when she was about

her lawful occasions. To conclude, while from the sister's words he had reckoned upon a
speedydeliveryhewas,however,itmustbeowned,notalittlealleviatedbytheintelligence
that the issue so auspicated after an ordeal of such duress now testified once more to the
mercyaswellastothebountyoftheSupremeBeing.
Accordinglyhebrokehismindtohisneighbour,sayingthat,toexpresshis notion of the
thing,hisopinion(whooughtnotperchancetoexpressone)wasthatonemusthaveacold
constitutionandafrigidgeniusnottoberejoicedbythisfreshestnewsofthefruitionofher
confinementsinceshehadbeeninsuchpainthroughnofaultofhers.Thedressyyoungblade
saiditwasherhusband'sthatputherinthatexpectationoratleastitoughttobeunlessshe
wereanotherEphesianmatron.Imustacquaintyou,saidMrCrotthers,clappingonthetable
so as to evoke a resonant comment of emphasis, old Glory Allelujurum was round again
today,anelderlymanwithdundrearies,preferringthroughhisnosearequesttohavewordof
Wilhelmina,mylife,ashecallsher.Ibadehimholdhimselfinreadinessforthattheevent
wouldburstanon.'Slife,I'llberoundwithyou.Icannotbutextolthevirilepotencyoftheold
buckothatcouldstillknockanotherchildoutofher.Allfelltopraisingofit,eachafterhis
own fashion, though the same young blade held with his former view that another than her
conjugialhadbeenthemaninthegap,aclerkinorders,alinkboy(virtuous)oranitinerant
vendorofarticlesneededineveryhousehold.Singular,communedtheguestwithhimself,the
wonderfully unequal faculty of metempsychosis possessed by them, that the puerperal
dormitoryandthedissectingtheatreshouldbetheseminariesofsuchfrivolity,thatthemere
acquisitionofacademictitlesshouldsufficetotransforminapinchoftimethesevotariesof
levityintoexemplarypractitionersofanartwhichmostmenanywiseeminenthaveesteemed
thenoblest.But,hefurtheradded,itismayhaptorelievethepentupfeelingsthatincommon
oppressthemforIhavemorethanonceobservedthatbirdsofafeatherlaughtogether.
Butwithwhatfitness,letitbeaskedofthenoblelord,hispatron,hasthisalien,whomthe
concession of a gracious prince has admitted to civic rights, constituted himself the lord
paramount of our internal polity? Where is now that gratitude which loyalty should have
counselled?Duringtherecentwarwhenevertheenemyhadatemporaryadvantagewithhis
granadosdidthistraitortohiskindnotseizethatmomenttodischargehispieceagainstthe
empireofwhichheisatenantatwillwhilehetrembledforthesecurityofhisfourpercents?
Hasheforgottenthisasheforgetsallbenefitsreceived?Orisitthatfrombeingadeluderof
othershehasbecomeatlasthisowndupeasheis,ifreportbeliehimnot,hisownandhis
only enjoyer? Far be it from candour to violate the bedchamber of a respectable lady, the
daughter of a gallant major, or to cast the most distant reflections upon her virtue but if he
challengesattentionthere(asitwasindeedhighlyhisinterestnottohavedone)thenbeitso.
Unhappywoman,shehasbeentoolongandtoopersistentlydeniedherlegitimateprerogative
tolistentohisobjurgationswithanyotherfeelingthanthederisionofthedesperate.Hesays
this,acensorofmorals,averypelicaninhispiety,whodidnotscruple,obliviousoftheties
ofnature,toattemptillicitintercoursewithafemaledomesticdrawnfromtheloweststrataof
society!Nay,hadthehussy'sscouringbrushnotbeenhertutelaryangel,ithadgonewithher
ashardaswithHagar,theEgyptian!Inthequestionofthegrazinglandshispeevishasperity
isnotoriousandinMrCuffe'shearingbroughtuponhimfromanindignantrancherascathing
retortcouchedintermsasstraightforwardastheywerebucolic.Itillbecomeshimtopreach
that gospel. Has he not nearer home a seedfield that lies fallow for the want of the
ploughshare?Ahabitreprehensibleatpubertyissecondnatureandanopprobriuminmiddle
life. If he must dispense his balm of Gilead in nostrums and apothegms of dubious taste to
restoretohealthagenerationofunfledgedprofligateslethispracticeconsistbetterwiththe
doctrinesthatnowengrosshim.Hismaritalbreastistherepositoryofsecretswhichdecorum
is reluctant to adduce. The lewd suggestions of some faded beauty may console him for a
consortneglectedanddebauchedbutthisnewexponentofmoralsandhealerofillsisathis
best an exotic tree which, when rooted in its native orient, throve and flourished and was
abundant in balm but, transplanted to a clime more temperate, its roots have lost their
quondamvigourwhilethestuffthatcomesawayfromitisstagnant,acidandinoperative.

The news was imparted with a circumspection recalling the ceremonial usage of the
Sublime Porte by the second female infirmarian to the junior medical officer in residence,
whoinhisturnannouncedtothedelegationthatanheirhadbeenborn,Whenhehadbetaken
himselftothewomen'sapartmenttoassistattheprescribedceremonyoftheafterbirthinthe
presenceofthesecretaryofstatefordomesticaffairsandthemembersoftheprivycouncil,
silent in unanimous exhaustion and approbation the delegates, chafing under the length and
solemnityoftheirvigilandhopingthatthejoyfuloccurrencewouldpalliatealicencewhich
thesimultaneousabsenceofabigailandobstetricianrenderedtheeasier,brokeoutatonceinto
astrifeoftongues.InvainthevoiceofMrCanvasserBloomwasheardendeavouringtourge,
to mollify, to refrain. The moment was too propitious for the display of that discursiveness
which seemed the only bond of union among tempers so divergent. Every phase of the
situation was successively eviscerated: the prenatal repugnance of uterine brothers, the
Caesareansection,posthumitywithrespecttothefatherand,thatrarerform,withrespectto
themother,thefratricidalcaseknownastheChildsMurderandrenderedmemorablebythe
impassioned plea of Mr Advocate Bushe which secured the acquittal of the wrongfully
accused, the rights of primogeniture and king's bounty touching twins and triplets,
miscarriages and infanticides, simulated or dissimulated, the acardiac foetus in foetu and
aprosopia due to a congestion, the agnathia of certain chinless Chinamen (cited by Mr
Candidate Mulligan) in consequence of defective reunion of the maxillary knobs along the
medial line so that (as he said) one ear could hear what the other spoke, the benefits of
anesthesia or twilight sleep, the prolongation of labour pains in advanced gravidancy by
reasonofpressureonthevein,theprematurerelentmentoftheamnioticfluid(asexemplified
in the actual case) with consequent peril of sepsis to the matrix, artificial insemination by
meansofsyringes,involutionofthewombconsequentuponthemenopause,theproblemof
the perpetration of the species in the case of females impregnated by delinquent rape, that
distressing manner of delivery called by the Brandenburghers Sturzgeburt, the recorded
instances of multiseminal, twikindled and monstrous births conceived during the catamenic
period or of consanguineous parentsin a word all the cases of human nativity which
Aristotlehasclassifiedinhismasterpiecewithchromolithographicillustrations.Thegravest
problemsofobstetricsandforensicmedicinewereexaminedwithasmuchanimationasthe
mostpopularbeliefsonthestateofpregnancysuchastheforbiddingtoagravidwomanto
stepoveracountrystilelest,byhermovement,thenavelcordshouldstranglehercreatureand
theinjunctionuponherintheeventofayearning,ardentlyandineffectuallyentertained,to
placeherhandagainstthatpartofherpersonwhichlongusagehasconsecratedastheseatof
castigation. The abnormalities of harelip, breastmole, supernumerary digits, negro's inkle,
strawberry mark and portwine stain were alleged by one as a prima facie and natural
hypotheticalexplanationofthoseswineheaded(thecaseofMadameGrisselSteevenswasnot
forgotten) or doghaired infants occasionally born. The hypothesis of a plasmic memory,
advancedbytheCaledonianenvoyandworthyofthemetaphysicaltraditions ofthe landhe
stood for, envisaged in such cases an arrest of embryonic development at some stage
antecedenttothehuman.Anoutlandishdelegatesustainedagainstboththeseviews,withsuch
heatasalmostcarriedconviction,thetheoryofcopulationbetweenwomenandthemalesof
brutes, his authority being his own avouchment in support of fables such as that of the
MinotaurwhichthegeniusoftheelegantLatinpoethashandeddowntousinthepagesofhis
Metamorphoses. The impression made by his words was immediate but shortlived. It was
effacedaseasilyasithadbeenevokedbyanallocutionfromMrCandidateMulliganinthat
veinofpleasantrywhichnonebetterthanheknewhowtoaffect,postulatingasthesupremest
objectofdesireanicecleanoldman.Contemporaneously,aheatedargumenthavingarisen
between Mr Delegate Madden and Mr Candidate Lynch regarding the juridical and
theological dilemma created in the event of one Siamese twin predeceasing the other, the
difficultybymutualconsentwasreferredtoMrCanvasserBloomforinstantsubmittaltoMr
Coadjutor Deacon Dedalus. Hitherto silent, whether the better to show by preternatural
gravity that curious dignity of the garb with which he was invested or in obedience to an
inward voice, he delivered briefly and, as some thought, perfunctorily the ecclesiastical

ordinanceforbiddingmantoputasunderwhatGodhasjoined.
But Malachias' tale began to freeze them with horror. He conjured up the scene before
them. The secret panel beside the chimney slid back and in the recess appeared... Haines!
Which of us did not feel his flesh creep! He had a portfolio full of Celtic literature in one
hand,intheotheraphialmarkedPoison.Surprise,horror,loathingweredepictedonallfaces
whileheeyedthemwithaghostlygrin.Ianticipatedsomesuchreception,hebeganwithan
eldritchlaugh,forwhich,itseems,historyistoblame.Yes,itistrue.Iamthemurdererof
Samuel Childs. And how I am punished! The inferno has no terrors for me. This is the
appearanceisonme.Tareandages,whatwaywouldIberestingatall,hemutteredthickly,
andItrampingDublinthiswhilebackwithmyshareofsongsandhimselfaftermethelikeof
asoulthorabullawurrus?Myhell,andIreland's,isinthislife.ItiswhatItriedtoobliterate
my crime. Distractions, rookshooting, the Erse language (he recited some), laudanum (he
raised the phial to his lips), camping out. In vain! His spectre stalks me. Dope is my only
hope...Ah!Destruction!Theblackpanther!With a cry he suddenly vanished and the panel
slid back. An instant later his head appeared in the door opposite and said: Meet me at
Westland Row station at ten past eleven. He was gone. Tears gushed from the eyes of the
dissipatedhost.Theseerraisedhishandtoheaven,murmuring:ThevendettaofMananaun!
Thesagerepeated:Lextalionis.Thesentimentalistishewhowouldenjoywithoutincurring
the immense debtorship for a thing done. Malachias, overcome by emotion, ceased. The
mystery was unveiled. Haines was the third brother. His real name was Childs. The black
pantherwashimselftheghostofhisownfather.Hedrankdrugstoobliterate.Forthisrelief
muchthanks.Thelonelyhousebythegraveyardisuninhabited.Nosoulwilllivethere.The
spiderpitchesherwebinthesolitude.Thenocturnalratpeersfromhishole.Acurseisonit.
Itishaunted.Murderer'sground.
Whatistheageofthesoulofman?Asshehaththevirtueofthechameleontochangeher
hueateverynewapproach,tobegaywiththemerryandmournfulwiththedowncast,sotoo
is her age changeable as her mood. No longer is Leopold, as he sits there, ruminating,
chewing the cud of reminiscence, that staid agent of publicity and holder of a modest
substanceinthefunds.Ascoreofyearsareblownaway.HeisyoungLeopold.There,asina
retrospectivearrangement,amirrorwithinamirror(hey,presto!),hebeholdethhimself.That
youngfigureofthenisseen,precociouslymanly,walkingonanippingmorningfromtheold
houseinClanbrassilstreettothehighschool,hisbooksatchelonhimbandolierwise,andinit
agoodlyhunkofwheatenloaf,amother'sthought.Oritisthesamefigure,ayearorsogone
over,inhisfirsthardhat(ah,thatwasaday!),alreadyontheroad,afullfledgedtravellerfor
thefamilyfirm,equippedwithanorderbook,ascentedhandkerchief(notforshowonly),his
caseofbrighttrinketware(alas!athingnowofthepast!)andaquiverfulofcompliantsmiles
forthisorthathalfwonhousewifereckoningitoutuponherfingertipsorforabuddingvirgin,
shyly acknowledging (but the heart? tell me!) his studied baisemoins. The scent, the smile,
but,morethanthese,thedarkeyesandoleaginousaddress,broughthomeatduskfallmanya
commissiontotheheadofthefirm,seatedwithJacob'spipeafterlikelaboursinthepaternal
ingle (a meal of noodles, you may be sure, is aheating), reading through round horned
spectacles some paper from the Europe of a month before. But hey, presto, the mirror is
breathedonandtheyoungknighterrantrecedes,shrivels,dwindlestoatinyspeckwithinthe
mist.Nowheishimselfpaternalandtheseabouthimmightbehissons.Whocansay?The
wisefatherknowshisownchild.HethinksofadrizzlingnightinHatchstreet,hardbythe
bondedstoresthere,thefirst.Together(sheisapoorwaif,achildofshame,yoursandmine
and of all for a bare shilling and her luckpenny), together they hear the heavy tread of the
watchastworaincapedshadowspassthenewroyaluniversity.Bridie!BridieKelly!Hewill
neverforgetthename,everrememberthenight:firstnight,thebridenight.Theyareentwined
innethermostdarkness,thewillerwiththewilled,andinaninstant(fiat!)lightshallfloodthe
world.Didheart leap to heart? Nay, fair reader. In a breath 'twas done buthold! Back! It
mustnotbe!Interrorthepoorgirlfleesawaythroughthemurk.Sheisthebrideofdarkness,
adaughterofnight.Shedarenotbearthesunnygoldenbabeofday.No,Leopold.Nameand
memorysolacetheenot.Thatyouthfulillusionofthystrengthwastakenfromtheeandin

vain.Nosonofthyloinsisbythee.ThereisnonenowtobeforLeopold,whatLeopoldwas
forRudolph.
The voices blend and fuse in clouded silence: silence that is the infinite of space: and
swiftly, silently the soul is wafted over regions of cycles of generations that have lived. A
region where grey twilight ever descends, never falls on wide sagegreen pasturefields,
sheddingherdusk,scatteringaperennialdewofstars.Shefollowshermotherwithungainly
steps,amareleadingherfillyfoal.Twilightphantomsarethey,yetmouldedinpropheticgrace
of structure, slim shapely haunches, a supple tendonous neck, the meek apprehensive skull.
Theyfade,sadphantoms:allisgone.Agendathisawasteland,ahomeofscreechowlsand
thesandblindupupa.Netaim,thegolden,isnomore.Andonthehighwayofthecloudsthey
come,mutteringthunderofrebellion,theghostsofbeasts.Huuh!Hark!Huuh!Parallaxstalks
behindandgoadsthem,thelancinatinglightningsofwhosebrowarescorpions.Elkandyak,
the bulls of Bashan and of Babylon, mammoth and mastodon, they come trooping to the
sunkensea,LacusMortis. Ominous revengeful zodiacal host! They moan, passinguponthe
clouds, horned and capricorned, the trumpeted with the tusked, the lionmaned, the
giantantlered,snouterandcrawler,rodent,ruminantandpachyderm,alltheirmovingmoaning
multitude,murderersofthesun.
Onwardtothedeadseatheytramptodrink,unslakedandwithhorriblegulpings,thesalt
somnolentinexhaustibleflood.Andtheequineportentgrowsagain,magnifiedinthedeserted
heavens,naytoheaven'sownmagnitude,tillitlooms,vast,overthehouseofVirgo.Andlo,
wonderofmetempsychosis,itisshe,theeverlastingbride,harbingerofthedaystar,thebride,
evervirgin.Itisshe,Martha,thoulostone,Millicent,theyoung,thedear,theradiant.How
serene does she now arise, a queen among the Pleiades, in the penultimate antelucan hour,
shodinsandalsofbrightgold,coifedwithaveilofwhatdoyoucallitgossamer.Itfloats,it
flowsaboutherstarbornfleshandlooseitstreams,emerald,sapphire,mauveandheliotrope,
sustainedoncurrentsofthecoldinterstellarwind,winding,coiling,simplyswirling,writhing
in the skies a mysterious writing till, after a myriad metamorphoses of symbol, it blazes,
Alpha,arubyandtriangledsignupontheforeheadofTaurus.
Francis was reminding Stephen of years before when they had been at school togetherin
Conmee's time. He asked about Glaucon, Alcibiades, Pisistratus. Where were they now?
Neither knew. You have spoken of the past and its phantoms, Stephen said. Why think of
them?IfIcallthemintolifeacrossthewatersofLethewillnotthepoorghoststrooptomy
call?Whosupposesit?I,BousStephanoumenos,bullockbefriendingbard,amlordandgiver
oftheirlife.Heencircledhisgaddinghairwithacoronalofvineleaves,smilingatVincent.
Thatanswerandthoseleaves,Vincentsaidtohim,willadornyoumorefitlywhensomething
more,andgreatlymore,thanacapfuloflightodescancallyourgeniusfather.Allwhowish
youwellhopethisforyou.Alldesiretoseeyoubringforththeworkyoumeditate,toacclaim
youStephaneforos.Iheartilywishyoumaynotfailthem.Ono,VincentLenehansaid,laying
ahandontheshouldernearhim.Havenofear.Hecouldnotleavehismotheranorphan.The
young man's face grew dark. All could see how hard it was for him to be reminded of his
promiseandofhisrecentloss.Hewouldhavewithdrawnfromthefeasthadnotthenoiseof
voicesallayedthesmart.MaddenhadlostfivedrachmasonSceptreforawhimoftherider's
name:Lenehanasmuchmore.Hetoldthemoftherace.Theflagfelland,huuh!off,scamper,
the mare ran out freshly with 0. Madden up. She was leading the field. All hearts were
beating. Even Phyllis could not contain herself. She waved her scarf and cried: Huzzah!
Sceptrewins!Butinthestraightontherunhomewhenallwereincloseorderthedarkhorse
Throwaway drew level, reached, outstripped her. All was lost now. Phyllis was silent: her
eyes were sad anemones. Juno, she cried, I am undone. But her lover consoled her and
broughtherabrightcasketofgoldinwhichlaysomeovalsugarplumswhichshepartook.A
tearfell:oneonly.Awhackingfinewhip,saidLenehan,isW.Lane.Fourwinnersyesterday
andthreetoday.Whatriderislikehim?Mounthimonthecamelortheboisterousbuffalothe
victoryinahackcanterisstillhis.Butletusbearitaswastheancientwont.Mercyonthe
luckless!PoorSceptre!hesaidwithalightsigh.Sheisnotthefillythatshewas.Never,by

thishand,shallwebeholdsuchanother.Bygad,sir,aqueenofthem.Doyourememberher,
Vincent?Iwishyoucouldhaveseenmyqueentoday,Vincentsaid.Howyoungshewasand
radiant(Lalagewerescarcefairbesideher)inheryellowshoesandfrockofmuslin,Idonot
knowtherightnameofit.Thechestnutsthatshadeduswereinbloom:theairdroopedwith
theirpersuasiveodourandwithpollenfloatingbyus.Inthesunnypatchesonemighteasily
havecookedonastoneabatchofthosebunswithCorinthfruitinthemthatPeriplipomenes
sellsinhisboothnearthebridge.ButshehadnoughtforherteethbutthearmwithwhichI
heldherandinthatshenibbledmischievouslywhenIpressedtooclose.Aweekagoshelay
ill,fourdaysonthecouch,buttodayshewasfree,blithe,mockedatperil.Sheismoretaking
then. Her posies tool Mad romp that she is, she had pulled her fill as we reclined together.
And in your ear, my friend, you will not think who met us as we left the field. Conmee
himself! He was walking by the hedge, reading, I think a brevier book with, I doubt not, a
wittyletterinitfromGlyceraorChloetokeepthepage.Thesweetcreatureturnedallcolours
inherconfusion,feigningtoreproveaslightdisorderinherdress:aslipofunderwoodclung
therefortheverytreesadoreher.WhenConmeehadpassedsheglancedatherlovelyechoin
thatlittlemirrorshecarries.Buthehadbeenkind.Ingoingbyhehadblessedus.Thegods
tooareeverkind,Lenehansaid.IfIhadpoorluckwithBass'smareperhapsthisdraughtof
hismayservememorepropensely.Hewaslayinghishandupon a winejar:Malachisawit
and withheld his act, pointing to the stranger and to the scarlet label. Warily, Malachi
whispered, preserve a druid silence. His soul is far away. It is as painful perhaps to be
awakenedfromavisionastobeborn.Anyobject,intenselyregarded,maybeagateofaccess
to the incorruptible eon of the gods. Do you not think it, Stephen? Theosophos told me so,
Stephenanswered,whominapreviousexistenceEgyptianpriestsinitiatedintothemysteries
of karmic law. The lords of the moon, Theosophos told me, an orangefiery shipload from
planetAlphaofthelunarchainwouldnotassumetheethericdoublesandtheseweretherefore
incarnatedbytherubycolouredegosfromthesecondconstellation.
However, as a matter of fact though, the preposterous surmise about him being in some
descriptionofadoldrumsorotherormesmerisedwhichwasentirelyduetoamisconception
oftheshallowestcharacter,wasnotthecaseatall.Theindividualwhosevisualorganswhile
theabovewasgoingonwereatthisjuncturecommencingtoexhibitsymptomsofanimation
was as astute if not astuter than any man living and anybody that conjectured the contrary
wouldhavefoundthemselvesprettyspeedilyinthewrongshop.Duringthepastfourminutes
or thereabouts he had been staring hard at a certain amount of number one Bass bottled by
MessrsBassandCoatBurtononTrentwhichhappenedtobesituatedamongstalotofothers
rightoppositetowherehewasandwhichwascertainlycalculatedtoattractanyone'sremark
onaccountofitsscarletappearance.Hewassimplyandsolely,asitsubsequentlytranspired
forreasonsbestknowntohimself,whichputquiteanaltogetherdifferentcomplexiononthe
proceedings, after the moment before's observations about boyhood days and the turf,
recollectingtwoorthreeprivatetransactionsofhisownwhichtheothertwowereasmutually
innocent of as the babe unborn. Eventually, however, both their eyes met and as soon as it
began to dawn on him that the other was endeavouring to help himself to the thing he
involuntarilydeterminedtohelphimhimselfandsoheaccordinglytookholdoftheneckof
themediumsizedglassrecipientwhichcontainedthefluidsoughtafterandmadeacapacious
holeinitbypouringalotofitoutwith,alsoatthesametime,however,aconsiderabledegree
ofattentivenessinordernottoupsetanyofthebeerthatwasinitabouttheplace.
The debate which ensued was in its scope and progress an epitome of the course of life.
Neitherplacenorcouncilwaslackingindignity.Thedebaterswerethekeenestintheland,
thethemetheywereengagedontheloftiestandmostvital.ThehighhallofHorne'shousehad
never beheld an assembly so representative and so varied nor had the old rafters of that
establishmenteverlistenedtoalanguagesoencyclopaedic.Agallantsceneintruthitmade.
Crotthers was there at the foot of the table in his striking Highland garb, his face glowing
from the briny airs of the Mull of Galloway.There too,oppositeto him, was Lynchwhose
countenance bore already the stigmata of early depravity and premature wisdom. Next the
ScotchmanwastheplaceassignedtoCostello,theeccentric,whileathissidewasseatedin

stolidreposethesquatformofMadden.Thechairoftheresidentindeedstoodvacantbefore
thehearthbutoneitherflankofitthefigureofBannoninexplorer'skitoftweedshortsand
saltedcowhidebroguescontrastedsharplywiththeprimroseeleganceandtownbredmanners
ofMalachiRolandStJohnMulligan.Lastlyattheheadoftheboardwastheyoungpoetwho
found a refuge from his labours of pedagogy and metaphysical inquisition in the convivial
atmosphere of Socratic discussion, while to right and left of him were accommodated the
flippantprognosticator,freshfromthehippodrome,andthatvigilantwanderer,soiledbythe
dustoftravelandcombatandstainedbythemireofanindelibledishonour,butfromwhose
steadfast and constant heart no lure or peril or threat or degradation could ever efface the
imageofthatvoluptuouslovelinesswhichtheinspiredpencilofLafayettehaslimnedforages
yettocome.
It had better be stated here and now at the outset that the perverted transcendentalism to
which Mr S. Dedalus' (Div. Scep.) contentions would appear to prove him pretty badly
addictedrunsdirectlycountertoacceptedscientificmethods.Science,itcannotbetoooften
repeated,dealswithtangiblephenomena.Themanofsciencelikethemaninthestreethasto
facehardheadedfactsthatcannotbeblinkedandexplainthemasbesthecan.Theremaybe,it
istrue,somequestionswhichsciencecannotansweratpresentsuchasthefirstproblem
submittedbyMrL.Bloom(Pubb.Canv.)regardingthefuturedeterminationofsex.Mustwe
accept the view of Empedocles of Trinacria that the right ovary (the postmenstrual period,
assertothers)isresponsibleforthebirthofmalesorarethetoolongneglectedspermatozoaor
nemaspermsthedifferentiatingfactorsorisit,asmostembryologistsinclinetoopine,suchas
Culpepper,Spallanzani,Blumenbach,Lusk,Hertwig,LeopoldandValenti,amixtureofboth?
This would be tantamount to a cooperation (one of nature's favourite devices) between the
nisus formativus of the nemasperm on the one hand and on the other a happily chosen
position, succubitus felix of the passive element. The other problem raised by the same
inquirer is scarcely less vital: infant mortality. It is interesting because, as he pertinently
remarks,weareallborninthesamewaybutwealldieindifferentways.MrM.Mulligan
(Hyg.etEug.Doc.)blamesthesanitaryconditionsinwhichourgreylungedcitizenscontract
adenoids, pulmonary complaints etc. by inhaling the bacteria which lurk in dust. These
factors, he alleged, and the revolting spectacles offered by our streets, hideous publicity
posters, religious ministers of all denominations, mutilated soldiers and sailors, exposed
scorbutic cardrivers, the suspended carcases of dead animals, paranoic bachelors and
unfructified duennasthese, he said, were accountable for any and every fallingoff in the
calibre of the race. Kalipedia, he prophesied, would soon be generally adopted and all the
graces of life, genuinely good music, agreeable literature, light philosophy, instructive
pictures,plastercastreproductionsoftheclassicalstatuessuchasVenusandApollo, artistic
colouredphotographsofprizebabies,alltheselittleattentionswouldenableladieswhowere
in a particular condition to pass the intervening months in a most enjoyable manner. Mr J.
Crotthers(Disc.Bacc.)attributessomeofthesedemisestoabdominaltraumainthecaseof
womenworkerssubjectedtoheavylaboursintheworkshopandtomaritaldisciplineinthe
homebutbyfarthevastmajoritytoneglect,privateorofficial,culminatingintheexposureof
newborn infants, the practice of criminal abortion or in the atrocious crime of infanticide.
Althoughtheformer(wearethinkingofneglect)isundoubtedlyonlytootruethecasehecites
ofnursesforgettingtocountthespongesintheperitonealcavityistooraretobenormative.In
factwhenonecomestolookintoitthewonderisthatsomanypregnanciesanddeliveriesgo
offsowellasthey do, all things considered and in spite of our human shortcomings which
often baulk nature in her intentions. An ingenious suggestion is that thrown out by Mr V.
Lynch (Bacc. Arith.) that both natality and mortality, as well as all other phenomena of
evolution,tidalmovements,lunarphases,bloodtemperatures,diseasesingeneral,everything,
infine,innature'svastworkshopfromtheextinctionofsomeremotesuntotheblossomingof
oneofthecountlessflowerswhichbeautifyourpublicparksissubjecttoalawofnumeration
asyetunascertained.Stilltheplainstraightforwardquestionwhyachildofnormallyhealthy
parentsandseeminglyahealthychildandproperlylookedaftersuccumbsunaccountablyin
early childhood (though other children of the same marriage do not) must certainly, in the

poet's words, give us pause. Nature, we may rest assured, has her own good and cogent
reasons for whatever she does and in all probability such deaths are due to some law of
anticipation by which organisms in which morbous germs have taken up their residence
(modern science has conclusively shown that only the plasmic substance can be said to be
immortal)tendtodisappearatanincreasinglyearlierstageofdevelopment,anarrangement
which, though productive of pain to some of our feelings (notably the maternal), is
nevertheless, some of us think, in the long run beneficial to the race in general in securing
therebythesurvivalofthefittest.MrS.Dedalus'(Div.Scep.)remark(orshoulditbecalled
an interruption?) that an omnivorous being which can masticate, deglute, digest and
apparently pass through the ordinary channel with pluterperfect imperturbability such
multifariousalimentsascancrenousfemalesemaciatedbyparturition,corpulentprofessional
gentlemen, not to speak of jaundiced politicians and chlorotic nuns, might possibly find
gastricreliefinaninnocentcollationofstaggeringbob,revealsasnoughtelsecouldandina
veryunsavourylightthetendencyabovealludedto.Fortheenlightenmentofthosewhoare
notsointimatelyacquaintedwiththeminutiaeofthemunicipalabattoirasthismorbidminded
esthete and embryo philosopher who for all his overweening bumptiousness in things
scientific can scarcely distinguish an acid from an alkali prides himself on being, it should
perhapsbestatedthatstaggeringbobinthevileparlanceofourlowerclasslicensedvictuallers
signifiesthecookableandeatablefleshofacalfnewlydroppedfromitsmother.Inarecent
publiccontroversywithMrL.Bloom(Pubb.Canv.)whichtookplaceinthecommons'hallof
theNationalMaternityHospital,29,30and31Hollesstreet,ofwhich,asiswellknown,Dr
A.Horne(Lic.inMidw.,F.K.Q.C.P.I.)istheableandpopularmaster,heisreportedby
eyewitnesses as having stated that once a woman has let the cat into the bag (an esthete's
allusion,presumably,tooneofthemostcomplicatedandmarvellousofallnature'sprocesses
theactofsexualcongress)shemustletitoutagainorgiveitlife,ashephrasedit,tosave
herown.At the risk of her own, was the telling rejoinder of his interlocutor, none the less
effectiveforthemoderateandmeasuredtoneinwhichitwasdelivered.
Meanwhile the skill and patience of the physician had brought about a happy
accouchement.Ithadbeenawearywearywhilebothforpatientanddoctor.Allthatsurgical
skillcoulddowasdoneandthebravewomanhadmanfullyhelped.Shehad.Shehadfought
thegoodfightandnowshewasveryveryhappy.Thosewhohavepassedon,whohavegone
before,arehappytooastheygazedownandsmileuponthetouchingscene.Reverentlylook
at her as she reclines there with the motherlight in her eyes, that longing hunger for baby
fingers(aprettysightitistosee),inthefirstbloomofhernewmotherhood,breathingasilent
prayerofthanksgivingtoOneabove,theUniversalHusband.Andasherlovingeyesbehold
herbabeshewishesonlyoneblessingmore,tohaveherdearDoadytherewithhertoshare
her joy, to lay in his arms that mite of God's clay, the fruit of their lawful embraces. He is
oldernow(youandImaywhisperit)andatriflestoopedintheshouldersyetinthewhirligig
ofyearsagravedignityhascometotheconscientioussecondaccountantoftheUlsterbank,
College Green branch. O Doady, loved one of old, faithful lifemate now, it may never be
again, that faroff time of the roses! With the old shake of her pretty head she recalls those
days.God!Howbeautifulnowacrossthemistofyears!Buttheirchildrenaregroupedinher
imaginationaboutthebedside,hersandhis,Charley,MaryAlice,FrederickAlbert(ifhehad
lived),Mamy,Budgy(VictoriaFrances),Tom,VioletConstanceLouisa,darlinglittleBobsy
(calledafterourfamousherooftheSouthAfricanwar,lordBobsofWaterfordandCandahar)
andnowthislastpledgeoftheirunion,aPurefoyifevertherewasone,withthetruePurefoy
nose.YounghopefulwillbechristenedMortimerEdwardaftertheinfluentialthirdcousinof
MrPurefoyintheTreasuryRemembrancer'soffice,DublinCastle.Andsotimewagson:but
fatherCronionhasdealtlightlyhere.No,letnosighbreakfromthatbosom,deargentleMina.
And Doady, knock the ashes from your pipe, the seasoned briar you still fancy when the
curfewringsforyou(mayitbethedistantday!)anddoutthelightwherebyyoureadinthe
SacredBookfortheoiltoohasrunlow,andsowithatranquilhearttobed,torest.Heknows
and will call in His own good time. You too have fought the good fight and played loyally
yourman'spart.Sir,toyoumyhand.Welldone,thougoodandfaithfulservant!

Therearesinsor(letuscallthemastheworldcallsthem)evilmemorieswhicharehidden
awaybymaninthedarkestplacesoftheheartbuttheyabidethereandwait.Hemaysuffer
their memory to grow dim, let them be as though they had not been and all but persuade
himselfthattheywerenotoratleastwereotherwise.Yetachancewordwillcallthemforth
suddenlyandtheywillriseuptoconfronthiminthemostvariouscircumstances,avisionora
dream,orwhiletimbrelandharpsoothehissensesoramidthecoolsilvertranquilityofthe
eveningoratthefeast,atmidnight,whenheisnowfilledwithwine.Nottoinsultoverhim
willthevisioncomeasoveronethatliesunderherwrath,notforvengeanceto cut him off
fromthelivingbutshroudedinthepiteousvestureofthepast,silent,remote,reproachful.
Thestrangerstillregardedonthefacebeforehimaslowrecessionofthatfalsecalmthere,
imposed,asitseemed,byhabitorsomestudiedtrick,uponwordssoembitteredastoaccuse
intheirspeakeranunhealthiness,aflair,forthecruderthingsoflife.Ascenedisengagesitself
intheobserver'smemory,evoked,itwouldseem,byawordofsonaturalahomelinessasif
those days were really present there (as some thought) with their immediate pleasures. A
shaven space of lawn one soft May evening, the wellremembered grove of lilacs at
Roundtown, purple and white, fragrant slender spectators of the game but with much real
interestinthepelletsastheyrunslowlyforwardovertheswardorcollideandstop,onebyits
fellow, with a brief alert shock. And yonder about that grey urn where the water moves at
times in thoughtful irrigation you saw another as fragrant sisterhood, Floey, Atty, Tiny and
their darker friend with I know not what of arresting in her pose then, Our Lady of the
Cherries,acomelybraceofthempendentfromanear,bringingouttheforeignwarmthofthe
skin so daintily against the cool ardent fruit. A lad of four or five in linseywoolsey
(blossomtime but there will be cheer in the kindly hearth when ere long the bowls are
gatheredandhutched)isstandingontheurnsecuredbythatcircleofgirlishfondhands.He
frownsalittlejustasthisyoungmandoesnowwithaperhapstooconsciousenjoymentofthe
danger but must needs glance at whiles towards where his mother watches from the
PIAZZETTAgivingupontheflowerclosewithafaintshadowofremotenessorofreproach
(allesVergangliche)inhergladlook.
Markthisfartherandremember.Theendcomessuddenly.Enterthatantechamberofbirth
wherethestudiousareassembledandnotetheirfaces.Nothing,asitseems,thereofrashor
violent.Quietudeofcustody,rather,befittingtheirstationinthathouse,thevigilantwatchof
shepherds and of angels about a crib in Bethlehem of Juda long ago. But as before the
lightning the serried stormclouds, heavy with preponderant excess of moisture, in swollen
masses turgidly distended, compass earth and sky in one vast slumber, impending above
parchedfieldanddrowsyoxenandblightedgrowthofshrubandverduretillinaninstanta
flash rives their centres and with the reverberation of the thunder the cloudburst pours its
torrent, so and not otherwise was the transformation, violent and instantaneous, upon the
utteranceoftheword.
Burke's!outflingsmylordStephen,givingthecry,andatagandbobtailofallthemafter,
cockerel,jackanapes,welsher,pilldoctor,punctualBloomatheelswithauniversalgrabbing
atheadgear,ashplants,bilbos,Panamahatsandscabbards,Zermattalpenstocksandwhatnot.
Adedaleoflustyyouth,nobleeverystudentthere.NurseCallantakenabackinthehallway
cannotstaythemnorsmilingsurgeoncomingdownstairswithnewsofplacentationended,a
full pound if a milligramme. They hark him on. The door! It is open? Ha! They are out,
tumultuously, off for a minute's race, all bravely legging it, Burke's of Denzille and Holles
theirulteriorgoal.Dixonfollowsgivingthemsharplanguagebutrapsoutanoath,hetoo,and
on.Bloomstayswithnurseathoughttosendakindwordtohappymotherandnurselingup
there. Doctor Diet and Doctor Quiet. Looks she too not other now? Ward of watching in
Horne's house has told its tale in that washedout pallor. Then all being gone, a glance of
motherwithelping,hewhisperscloseingoing:Madam,whencomesthestorkbirdforthee?
Theairwithoutisimpregnatedwithraindewmoisture,lifeessencecelestial,glisteningon
Dublin stone there under starshiny coelum. God's air, the Allfather's air, scintillant
circumambientcessileair.Breatheitdeepintothee.Byheaven,TheodorePurefoy,thouhast

doneadoughtydeedandnobotch!Thouart,Ivow,theremarkablestprogenitorbarringnone
in this chaffering allincluding most farraginous chronicle. Astounding! In her lay a
GodframedGodgivenpreformedpossibilitywhichthouhastfructifiedwiththymodicumof
man'swork.Cleavetoher!Serve!Toilon,labourlikeaverybandogandletscholarmentand
allMalthusiastsgohang.Thouartalltheirdaddies,Theodore.Artdroopingunderthyload,
bemoiledwithbutcher'sbillsathomeandingots(notthine!)inthecountinghouse?Headup!
Foreverynewbegottenthoushaltgatherthyhomerofripewheat.See,thyfleeceisdrenched.
DostenvyDarbyDullmantherewithhisJoan?Acantingjayandarheumeyedcurdogisall
theirprogeny.Pshaw,Itellthee!Heisamule,adeadgasteropod,withoutvimorstamina,not
worthacrackedkreutzer.Copulationwithoutpopulation!No,sayI!Herod'sslaughterofthe
innocents were the truer name. Vegetables, forsooth, and sterile cohabitation! Give her
beefsteaks,red,raw,bleeding!Sheisahoarypandemoniumofills,enlargedglands,mumps,
quinsy, bunions, hayfever, bedsores, ringworm, floating kidney, Derbyshire neck, warts,
bilious attacks, gallstones, cold feet, varicose veins. A truce to threnes and trentals and
jeremiesandallsuchcongenitaldefunctivemusic!Twentyyearsofit,regretthemnot.With
theeitwasnotaswithmanythatwillandwouldandwaitandneverdo.Thousawestthy
America, thy lifetask, and didst charge to cover like the transpontine bison. How saith
Zarathustra?DeineKuhTrbsalmelkestDu.NunTrinkstDudiessseMilchdesEuters.See!
itdisplodesfortheeinabundance.Drink,man,anudderful!Mother'smilk,Purefoy,themilk
ofhumankin,milktooofthoseburgeoningstarsoverheadrutilantinthinrainvapour,punch
milk,suchasthoserioterswillquaffintheirguzzlingden,milkofmadness,thehoneymilkof
Canaan's land. Thy cow's dug was tough, what? Ay, but her milk is hot and sweet and
fattening. No dollop this but thick rich bonnyclaber. To her, old patriarch! Pap! Per deam
PartulametPertundamnuncestbibendum!
All off for a buster, armstrong, hollering down the street. Bonafides. Where you slep las
nigh? Timothy of the battered naggin. Like ole Billyo. Any brollies or gumboots in the
fambly? Where the Henry Nevil's sawbones and ole clo? Sorra one o' me knows. Hurrah
there, Dix! Forward to the ribbon counter. Where's Punch? All serene. Jay, look at the
drunkenministercomingoutofthematernityhospal!BenedicatvosomnipotensDeus,Pater
etFilius.Amake,mister.TheDenzillelaneboys.Hell,blastye!Scoot.Righto,Isaacs,shove
emoutofthebleedinglimelight.Yousjoinuz,dearsir?Nohentrusioninlife.Louheapgood
man. Allee samee dis bunch. En avant, mes enfants! Fire away number one on the gun.
Burke's!Burke's!Thencetheyadvancedfiveparasangs.Slattery'smountedfoot.Where'sthat
bleedingawfur?ParsonSteve,apostates'creed!No,no,Mulligan!Abaftthere!Shoveahead.
Keepawatchontheclock.Chuckingouttime.Mullee!What'sonyou?Mamrem'amarie.
BritishBeatitudes!RetamplatanDigidiBoumboum.Ayeshaveit.Tobeprintedandboundat
theDruiddrumpressbytwodesigningfemales.Calfcoversofpissedongreen.Lastwordin
art shades. Most beautiful book come out of Ireland my time. Silentium! Get a spurt on.
Tention. Proceed to nearest canteen and there annex liquor stores. March! Tramp, tramp,
tramp, the boys are (atitudes!) parching. Beer, beef, business, bibles, bulldogs battleships,
buggeryandbishops.Whetheronthescaffoldhigh.Beer,beef,tramplethebibles.Whenfor
Irelandear.Tramplethetrampellers.Thunderation!Keepthedurnedmillingtarystep.Wefall.
Bishopsboosebox.Halt!Heaveto.Rugger.Scrumin.Notouchkicking.Wow,mytootsies!
Youhurt?Mostamazinglysorry!
Query.Who'sastandingthisheredo?Proudpossessorofdamnall.Declaremisery.Betto
theropes.Menanteesaltee.Notaredatmethisweekgone.Yours?Meadofourfathersfor
thebermensch.Dittoh.Fivenumberones.You,sir?Gingercordial.Chaseme,thecabby's
caudle.Stimulatethecaloric.Windingofhisticker.Stoppedshortnevertogoagainwhenthe
old. Absinthe for me, savvy? Caramba! Have an eggnog or a prairie oyster. Enemy?
Avuncular's got my timepiece. Ten to. Obligated awful. Don't mention it. Got a pectoral
trauma,eh,Dix?Posfact.Gotbetbeaboomblebeewheneverhewussettinsleepininhesbit
garten.DigsupneartheMater.Buckledheis.Knowhisdona?Yup,sartinIdo.Fullofadure.
Seeherinherdishybilly.Peelsoffacredit.Loveylovekin.Noneofyourleankine,notmuch.
Pulldowntheblind,love.TwoArdilauns.Samehere.Lookslippery.Ifyoufalldon'twaitto

getup.Five,seven,nine.Fine!Gotaprimepairofmincepies,nokid.Andhertakemetorests
andherankerofrum.Mustbeseentobebelieved.Yourstarvingeyesandallbeplasteredneck
youstolemyheart,Ogluepot.Sir?Spudagaintherheumatiz?Allpoppycock,you'llscuseme
saying.Forthehoipolloi.Iveartheebeestagertvool.Well,doc?BackfroLapland?Your
corporosity sagaciating O K? How's the squaws and papooses? Womanbody after going on
thestraw?Standanddeliver.Password.There'shair.Oursthewhitedeathandtheruddybirth.
Hi!Spitinyourowneye,boss!Mummer'swire.CribbedoutofMeredith.Jesified,orchidised,
polycimicaljesuit!Auntymine'swritingPaKinch.BaddybadStephenleadastraygoodygood
Malachi.
Hurroo! Collar the leather, youngun. Roun wi the nappy. Here, Jock braw Hielentman's
yourbarleybree.Langmayyourlumreekandyourkailpotboil!Mytipple.Merci.Here'sto
us. How's that? Leg before wicket. Don't stain my brandnew sitinems. Give's a shake of
peppe,youthere.Catchaholt.Carawayseedtocarryaway.Twig?Shrieksofsilence.Every
covetohisgentrymort.VenusPandemos.Lespetitesfemmes.Boldbadgirlfromthetownof
Mullingar.TellherIwasaxingather.HaudingSarabythewame.OntheroadtoMalahide.
Me? If she who seduced me had left but the name. What do you want for ninepence?
Machree,macruiskeen.SmuttyMollforamattressjig.Andapullalltogether.Ex!
Waiting, guvnor? Most deciduously. Bet your boots on. Stunned like, seeing as how no
shinersisacoming.Underconstumble?He'vegotthechinkadlib.Seednearfreepounonuna
spellagoasaidwarhisn.Uscomerightinonyourinvite,see?Uptoyou,matey.Outwiththe
oof.Twobarandawing.YoularnthatgooffoftheythereFrenchybilks?Won'twashhere
fornutsnohow.Lilchilevellysolly.Isedecutestcolourcoondownourside.Gawdsteruth,
Chawley.Wearenaefou.We'renaethafou.Aureservoir,mossoo.Tanksyou.
'Tis, sure. What say? In the speakeasy. Tight. I shee you, shir. Bantam, two days teetee.
Bowsingnowtbutclaretwine.Garn!Haveaglint,do.Gum,I'mjiggered.Andbeentobarber
hehave.Toofullforwords.Witharailwaybloke.Howcomeyouso?Operahe'dlike?Rose
of Castile. Rows of cast. Police! Some H2O for a gent fainted. Look at Bantam's flowers.
Gemini. He's going to holler. The colleen bawn. My colleen bawn. O, cheese it! Shut his
blurryDutchovenwithafirmhand.HadthewinnertodaytillItippedhimadeadcert.The
ruffinclythenabofStephenHandasgivemethejadycoppaleen.Hestrikeatelegramboy
paddockwirebigbugBasstothedepot.Shovehimajoeyandgrahamise.Mareonformhot
order.Guinea to a goosegog. Tell a cram, that. Gospeltrue. Criminal diversion? I think that
yes. Sure thing. Land him in chokeechokee if the harman beck copped the game. Madden
backMadden'samaddeningback.Olustourrefugeandourstrength.Decamping.Mustyou
go?Offtomammy.Standby.Hidemyblushessomeone.Allinifhespotsme.Comeahome,
ourBantam.Horryvar,mongvioo.Dinnaforgetthecowslipsforhersel.Cornfide.Whagevye
thoncolt?Paltopal.Jannock.OfJohnThomas,herspouse.Nofake,oldmanLeo.S'elpme,
honestinjun.ShivermytimbersifIhad.There'sagreatbigholyfriar.Vyforyounometell?
Vel,Ises,ifthataintasheenynachez,vel,Ivilgetmishamishinnah.Throughyerdourlord,
Amen.
You move a motion? Steve boy, you're going it some. More bluggy drunkables? Will
immensely splendiferous stander permit one stooder of most extreme poverty and one
largesize grandacious thirst to terminate one expensive inaugurated libation? Give's a
breather.Landlord,landlord,have you good wine, staboo? Hoots, mon, a wee drap to pree.
Cutandcomeagain.Right.Boniface!Absinthethelot.Nosomnesbiberimusviridumtoxicum
diaboluscapiatposteriorianostria.Closingtime,gents.Eh?RomeboosefortheBloomtoff.I
hear you say onions? Bloo? Cadges ads. Photo's papli, by all that's gorgeous. Play low,
pardner. Slide. Bonsoir la compagnie. And snares of the poxfiend. Where's the buck and
NambyAmby?Skunked?Legbail.Aweel,yemaune'engangyergates.Checkmate.Kingto
tower. Kind Kristyann wil yu help yung man hoose frend tuk bungellow kee tu find plais
wheartulaycrownofhished2night.Crickey,I'maboutsprung.Tarnallydoggonemyshins
ifthisbeentthebestestputtiestlongbreakyet.Item,curate,coupleofcookiesforthischild.
Cot's plood and prandypalls, none! Not a pite of sheeses? Thrust syphilis down to hell and

withhimthoseotherlicensedspirits.Time,gents!Whowanderthroughtheworld.Healthall!
alavtre!
Golly,whattentunket'syonguyinthemackintosh?DustyRhodes.Peepathis wearables.
Bymighty!What'shegot?Jubileemutton.Bovril,byJames.Wantsitrealbad.D'yekenbare
socks?SeedycussintheRichmond?Rawthere!Thoughthehadadepositofleadinhispenis.
Trumperyinsanity.BartletheBreadwecallshim.That,sir,wasonceaprosperouscit.Man
alltatteredandtornthatmarriedamaidenallforlorn.Slungherhook,shedid.Hereseelost
love. Walking Mackintosh of lonely canyon. Tuck and turn in. Schedule time. Nix for the
hornies. Pardon? Seen him today at a runefal? Chum o' yourn passed in his checks?
Ludamassy! Pore piccaninnies! Thou'll no be telling me thot, Pold veg! Did ums blubble
bigsplashcrytearscosfrenPadneywastookoffinblackbag?OfalldedarkiesMassaPatwas
verrabest.IneverseethelikesinceIwasborn.Tiens,tiens,butitiswellsad,that,myfaith,
yes.O,get,revonagradientoneinnine.Liveaxledrivesaresouped.Layyoutwotoone
Jenatzylickshimruddywellhollow.Jappies?Highanglefire,inyah!Sunkbywarspecials.
Beworseforhim,sayshe,noranyRooshian.Timeall.There'selevenofthem.Getyegone.
Forward, woozy wobblers! Night. Night. May Allah the Excellent One your soul this night
evertremendouslyconserve.
Yourattention!We'renaethafou.TheLeithpolicedismissethus.Theleasttholice.Ware
hawksforthechappuking.Unwellinhisabominableregions.Yooka.Night.Mona,mytrue
love.Yook.Mona,myownlove.Ook.
Hark!Shutyourobstropolos.Pflaap!Pflaap!Blazeon.Thereshegoes.Brigade!Boutship.
Mountstreetway.Cutup!Pflaap!Tallyho.Younotcome?Run,skelter,race.Pflaaaap!
Lynch!Hey?Signonlongo'me.Denzillelanethisway.ChangehereforBawdyhouse.We
two,shesaid,willseekthekipswhereshadyMaryis.Righto,anyoldtime.Laetabuntur in
cubilibussuis.Youcominglong?Whisper,whothesootyhell'sthejohnnyintheblackduds?
Hush!Sinnedagainstthelightandevennowthatdayisathandwhenheshallcometojudge
the world by fire. Pflaap! Ut implerentur scripturae. Strike up a ballad. Then outspake
medicalDicktohiscomrademedicalDavy.Christicle,who'sthisexcrementyellowgospeller
on the Merrion hall? Elijah is coming! Washed in the blood of the Lamb. Come on you
winefizzling, ginsizzling, booseguzzling existences! Come on, you doggone, bullnecked,
beetlebrowed, hogjowled, peanutbrained, weaseleyed fourflushers, false alarms and excess
baggage!Comeon,youtripleextractofinfamy!AlexanderJChristDowie,that'smyname,
that'syankedtoglorymosthalfthisplanetfromFriscobeachtoVladivostok.TheDeityaint
nonickeldimebumshow.IputittoyouthatHe'sonthesquareandacorkingfinebusiness
proposition.He'sthegrandestthingyetanddon'tyouforgetit.ShoutsalvationinKingJesus.
You'llneedtorisepreciousearlyyousinnerthere,ifyouwanttodiddletheAlmightyGod.
Pflaaaap!Nothalf.He'sgotacoughmixturewithapunchinitforyou,myfriend,inhisback
pocket.Justyoutryiton.
TheMabbotstreetentranceofnighttown,beforewhichstretchesanuncobbled tramsiding
setwithskeletontracks,redandgreenwillo'thewisps and danger signals. Rows of grimy
houseswithgapingdoors. Rare lamps with faint rainbow fins. Round Rabaiotti's halted ice
gondola stunted men and women squabble. They grab wafers between which are wedged
lumpsofcoralandcoppersnow.Sucking,theyscatterslowly.Children.Theswancombofthe
gondola,highreared,forgesonthroughthemurk,whiteandblueunderalighthouse.Whistles
callandanswer.
THECALLS:Wait,mylove,andI'llbewithyou.
THEANSWERS:Roundbehindthestable.
(A deafmute idiot with goggle eyes, his shapeless mouth dribbling, jerks past, shaken in
SaintVitus'dance.Achainofchildren'shandsimprisonshim.)
THECHILDREN:Kithogue!Salute!
THEIDIOT:(Liftsapalsiedleftarmandgurgles)Grhahute!
THECHILDREN:Where'sthegreatlight?

THEIDIOT:(Gobbing)Ghaghahest.
(They release him. He jerks on. A pigmy woman swings on a rope slung between two
railings,counting.Aformsprawledagainstadustbinandmuffledbyitsarmandhatsnores,
groans, grinding growling teeth, and snores again. On a step a gnome totting among a
rubbishtipcrouchestoshoulderasackofragsandbones.Acronestandingbywithasmoky
oillamp rams her last bottle in the maw of his sack. He heaves his booty, tugs askew his
peakedcapandhobblesoffmutely.Thecronemakesbackforherlair,swayingherlamp.A
bandy child, asquat on the doorstep with a paper shuttlecock, crawls sidling after her in
spurts,clutchesherskirt,scramblesup.Adrunkennavvygripswithbothhandstherailingsof
an area, lurching heavily. At a comer two night watch in shouldercapes, their hands upon
their staffholsters, loom tall. A plate crashes: a woman screams: a child wails. Oaths of a
manroar,mutter,cease.Figureswander,lurk,peerfromwarrens.Inaroomlitbyacandle
stuck in a bottleneck a slut combs out the tatts from the hair of a scrofulous child. Cissy
Caffrey'svoice,stillyoung,singsshrillfromalane.)
CISSYCAFFREY:
IgaveittoMolly
Becauseshewasjolly,
Thelegoftheduck,
Thelegoftheduck.

(Private Carr and Private Compton, swaggersticks tight in their oxters, as they march
unsteadily rightaboutface and burst together from their mouths a volleyed fart. Laughter of
menfromthelane.Ahoarseviragoretorts.)
THEVIRAGO:Signsonyou,hairyarse.MorepowertheCavangirl.
CISSYCAFFREY:Morelucktome.Cavan,CootehillandBelturbet.(Shesings)
IgaveittoNelly
Tostickinherbelly,
Thelegoftheduck,
Thelegoftheduck.

(Private Carr and Private Compton turn and counterretort, their tunics bloodbright in a
lampglow, black sockets of caps on their blond cropped polls. Stephen Dedalus and Lynch
passthroughthecrowdclosetotheredcoats.)
PRIVATECOMPTON:(Jerkshisfinger)Wayfortheparson.
PRIVATECARR:(Turnsandcalls)Whatho,parson!
CISSYCAFFREY:(Hervoicesoaringhigher)
Shehasit,shegotit,
Whereversheputit,
Thelegoftheduck.

(Stephen, flourishing the ashplant in his left hand, chants with joy the introit for paschal
time.Lynch,hisjockeycaplowonhisbrow,attendshim,asneerofdiscontentwrinklinghis
face.)
STEPHEN:Vidiaquamegredientemdetemploalateredextro.Alleluia.
(Thefamishedsnaggletusksofanelderlybawdprotrudefromadoorway.)
THE BAWD: (Her voice whispering huskily) Sst! Come here till I tell you. Maidenhead
inside.Sst!
STEPHEN:(Altiusaliquantulum)Etomnesadquospervenitaquaista.
THE BAWD: (Spits in their trail her jet of venom) Trinity medicals. Fallopian tube. All
prickandnopence.
(Edy Boardman, sniffling, crouched with bertha supple, draws her shawl across her
nostrils.)

EDYBOARDMAN:(Bickering)Andsaystheone:IseenyouupFaithfulplacewithyour
squarepusher,thegreaserofftherailway,inhiscometobedhat.Didyou,saysI.That'snotfor
youtosay,saysI.Youneverseenmeinthemantrapwithamarriedhighlander,saysI.The
likesofher!Stagthatoneis!Stubbornasamule!Andherwalkingwithtwofellowstheone
time,Kilbride,theenginedriver,andlancecorporalOliphant.
STEPHEN:(Ttriumphaliter)Salvifactisunt.
(He flourishes his ashplant, shivering the lamp image, shattering light over the world. A
liverandwhitespanielontheprowlslinksafterhim,growling.Lynchscaresitwithakick.)
LYNCH:Sothat?
STEPHEN: (Looks behind) So that gesture, not music not odour, would be a universal
language, the gift of tongues rendering visible not the lay sense but the first entelechy, the
structuralrhythm.
LYNCH:Pornosophicalphilotheology.MetaphysicsinMecklenburghstreet!
STEPHEN:WehaveshrewriddenShakespeareandhenpeckedSocrates.Eventheallwisest
Stagyritewasbitted,bridledandmountedbyalightoflove.
LYNCH:Ba!
STEPHEN:Anyway,whowantstwogesturestoillustratealoafandajug?Thismovement
illustratestheloafandjugofbreadorwineinOmar.Holdmystick.
LYNCH:Damnyouryellowstick.Wherearewegoing?
STEPHEN:Lecherouslynx,tolabelledamesansmerci,GeorginaJohnson,ad deam qui
laetificatiuventutemmeam.
(Stephenthruststheashplantonhimandslowlyholdsouthishands,hisheadgoingback
till both hands are a span from his breast, down turned, in planes intersecting, the fingers
abouttopart,theleftbeinghigher.)
LYNCH:Whichisthejugofbread?Itskillsnot.Thatorthecustomhouse.Illustratethou.
Heretakeyourcrutchandwalk.
(Theypass.TommyCaffreyscramblestoagaslampand,clasping,climbsinspasms.From
the top spur he slides down. Jacky Caffrey clasps to climb. The navvy lurches against the
lamp. The twins scuttle off in the dark. The navvy, swaying, presses a forefinger against a
wingofhisnoseandejectsfromthefarthernostrilalongliquidjetofsnot.Shoulderingthe
lamphestaggersawaythroughthecrowdwithhisflaringcresset.
Snakesofriverfogcreepslowly.Fromdrains,clefts,cesspools,middensariseonallsides
stagnantfumes.Aglowleapsinthesouthbeyondtheseawardreachesoftheriver.Thenavvy,
staggeringforward,cleavesthecrowdandlurchestowardsthetramsidingonthefartherside
under the railway bridge bloom appears, flushed, panting, cramming bread and chocolate
intoasidepocket.FromGillen'shairdresser'swindowacompositeportraitshowshimgallant
Nelson's image. A concave mirror at the side presents to him lovelorn longlost lugubru
Booloohoom.GraveGladstoneseeshimlevel,BloomforBloom.hepasses,struckbythestare
oftruculentWellington,butintheconvexmirrorgrinunstruckthebonhameyesandfatchuck
cheekchopsofJollypoldytherixdixdoldy.
AtAntonioPabaiotti'sdoorBloomhalts,sweatedunderthebrightarclamp.Hedisappears.
Inamomenthereappearsandhurrieson.)
BLOOM:Fishandtaters.N.g.Ah!
(He disappears into Olhausen's, the porkbutcher's, under the downcoming rollshutter. A
fewmomentslaterheemergesfromundertheshutter,puffingPoldy,blowingBloohoom.In
each hand he holds a parcel, one containing a lukewarm pig's crubeen, the other a cold
sheep'strotter,sprinkledwithwholepepper.Hegasps,standingupright.Thenbendingtoone
sidehepressesaparcelagainsthisribsandgroans.)
BLOOM:Stitchinmyside.WhydidIrun?
(Hetakesbreathwithcareandgoesforwardslowlytowardsthelampsetsiding.Theglow

leapsagain.)
BLOOM:Whatisthat?Aflasher?Searchlight.
(HestandsatCormack'scorner,watching)
BLOOM: Aurora borealis or a steel foundry? Ah, the brigade, of course. South side
anyhow. Big blaze. Might be his house. Beggar's bush. We're safe. (He hums cheerfully)
London'sburning,London'sburning!Onfire,onfire!(Hecatchessightofthenavvylurching
throughthecrowdatthefarthersideofTalbotstreet)I'llmisshim.Run.Quick.Bettercross
here.
(Hedartstocrosstheroad.Urchinsshout.)
THEURCHINS:Mindout,mister!(Twocyclists,withlightedpaperlanternsaswing,swim
byhim,grazinghim,theirbellsrattling)
THEBELLS:Haltyaltyaltyall.
BLOOM:(Haltserect,stungbyaspasm)Ow!
(He looks round, darts forward suddenly. Through rising fog a dragon sandstrewer,
travellingatcaution,slewsheavilydownuponhim,itshugeredheadlightwinking,itstrolley
hissingonthewire.Themotormanbangshisfootgong.)
THEGONG:BangBangBlaBakBludBuggBloo.
(The brake cracks violently. Bloom, raising a policeman's whitegloved hand, blunders
stifflegged out of the track. The motorman, thrown forward, pugnosed, on the guidewheel,
yellsasheslidespastoverchainsandkeys.)
THEMOTORMAN:Hey,shitbreeches,areyoudoingthehattrick?
BLOOM:(Bloomtrickleapstothecurbstoneandhaltsagain.Hebrushesamudflakefrom
hischeekwithaparcelledhand.)Nothoroughfare.Closeshavethatbutcuredthestitch.Must
takeupSandow'sexercisesagain.Onthehandsdown.Insureagainststreetaccidenttoo.The
Providential.(Hefeelshistrouserpocket)Poormamma'spanacea.Heeleasilycatchintrack
orbootlaceinacog.DaythewheeloftheblackMariapeeledoffmyshoeatLeonard'scorner.
Third time is the charm. Shoe trick. Insolent driver. I ought to report him. Tension makes
them nervous. Might be the fellow balked me this morning with that horsey woman. Same
style of beauty. Quick of him all the same. The stiff walk. True word spoken in jest. That
awful cramp in Lad lane. Something poisonous I ate. Emblem of luck. Why? Probably lost
cattle. Mark of the beast. (He closes his eyes an instant) Bit light in the head. Monthly or
effectoftheother.Brainfogfag.Thattiredfeeling.Toomuchformenow.Ow!
(Asinisterfigureleansonplaitedlegsagainsto'beirne'swall,avisageunknown, injected
withdarkmercury.Fromunderawideleavedsombrerothefigureregardshimwithevileye.)
BLOOM:Buenasnoches,seoritaBlanca,quecalleesesta?
THEFIGURE:(Impassive,raisesasignalarm)Password.SraidMabbot.
BLOOM:Haha.Merci.Esperanto.Slanleath.(Hemutters)Gaelicleaguespy,sentbythat
fireeater.
(Hestepsforward.Asackshoulderedragmanbarshispath.Hestepsleft,ragsackmanleft.)
BLOOM:Ibeg.(Heswerves,sidles,stepaside,slipspastandon.)
BLOOM:Keeptotheright,right,right.IfthereisasignpostplantedbytheTouringClubat
Stepasidewhoprocuredthatpublicboon?Iwholostmywayandcontributedtothecolumns
oftheIrishCyclisttheletterheadedIndarkestStepaside.Keep,keep,keeptotheright.Rags
andbonesatmidnight.Afencemorelikely.Firstplacemurderermakesfor.Washoffhissins
oftheworld.
(JackyCaffrey,huntedbyTommyCaffrey,runsfulltiltagainstBloom.)
BLOOM:O
(Shocked,onweakhams,hehalts.TommyandJackyvanishthere,there.Bloompatswith
parcelledhandswatchfobpocket,bookpocket,pursepoket,sweetsofsin,potatosoap.)

BLOOM:Bewareofpickpockets.Oldthieves'dodge.Collide.Thensnatchyourpurse.
(Theretrieverapproachessniffing,nosetotheground.Asprawledformsneezes.Astooped
beardedfigureappearsgarbedinthelongcaftanofanelderinZionandasmokingcapwith
magentatassels.Hornedspectacleshangdownatthewingsofthenose.Yellowpoisonstreaks
areonthedrawnface.)
RUDOLPH: Second halfcrown waste money today. I told you not go with drunken goy
ever.Soyoucatchnomoney.
BLOOM:(Hidesthecrubeenandtrotterbehindhisbackand,crestfallen,feelswarmand
coldfeetmeat)Ja,ichweiss,papachi.
RUDOLPH: What you making down this place? Have you no soul? (with feeble vulture
talons he feels the silent face of Bloom) Are you not my son Leopold, the grandson of
Leopold?AreyounotmydearsonLeopoldwholeftthehouseofhisfatherandleftthegodof
hisfathersAbrahamandJacob?
BLOOM:(Withprecaution)Isupposeso,father.Mosenthal.Allthat'sleftofhim.
RUDOLPH:(Severely)Onenighttheybringyouhomedrunkasdogafterspendyourgood
money.Whatyoucallthemrunningchaps?
BLOOM: (In youth's smart blue Oxford suit with white vestslips, narrowshouldered, in
brown Alpine hat, wearing gent's sterling silver waterbury keyless watch and double curb
Albertwithsealattached,onesideofhimcoatedwithstiffeningmud)Harriers,father.Only
thatonce.
RUDOLPH: Once! Mud head to foot. Cut your hand open. Lockjaw. They make you
kaputt,Leopoldleben.Youwatchthemchaps.
BLOOM:(Weakly)Theychallengedmetoasprint.Itwasmuddy.Islipped.
RUDOLPH:(Withcontempt)Goimnachez!Nicespectaclesforyourpoormother!
BLOOM:Mamma!
ELLENBLOOM:(Inpantomimedame'sstringedmobcap,widowTwankey'scrinolineand
bustle, blouse with muttonleg sleeves buttoned behind, grey mittens and cameo brooch, her
plaited hair in a crispine net, appears over the staircase banisters, a slanted candlestick in
herhand,andcriesoutinshrillalarm)OblessedRedeemer,whathavetheydonetohim!My
smelling salts! (She hauls up a reef of skirt and ransacks the pouch of her striped blay
petticoat.Aphial,anAgnusDei,ashrivelledpotatoandacelluloiddollfallout)SacredHeart
ofMary,wherewereyouatallatall?
(Bloom,mumbling,hiseyesdowncast,beginstobestowhisparcelsinhisfilledpocketsbut
desists,muttering.)
AVOICE:(Sharply)Poldy!
BLOOM:Who?(Heducksandwardsoffablowclumsily)Atyourservice.
(He looks up. Beside her mirage of datepalms a handsome woman in Turkish costume
standsbeforehim.Opulentcurvesfilloutherscarlettrousersandjacket,slashedwithgold.A
wideyellowcummerbundgirdlesher.Awhiteyashmak,violetinthenight,coversherface,
leavingfreeonlyherlargedarkeyesandravenhair.)
BLOOM:Molly!
MARION: Welly? Mrs Marion from this out, my dear man, when you speak to me.
(Satirically)Haspoorlittlehubbycoldfeetwaitingsolong?
BLOOM:(Shiftsfromfoottofoot)No,no.Nottheleastlittlebit.
(Hebreathesindeepagitation,swallowinggulpsofair,questions,hopes,crubeensforher
supper,thingstotellher,excuse,desire,spellbound.Acoingleamsonherforehead.Onher
feetarejewelledtoerings.Heranklesarelinkedbyaslenderfetterchain.Besideheracamel,
hooded with a turreting turban, waits. A silk ladder of innumerable rungs climbs to his
bobbing howdah. He ambles near with disgruntled hindquarters. Fiercely she slaps his
haunch,hergoldcurbwristbanglesangriling,scoldinghiminMoorish.)

MARION:Nebrakada!Femininum!
(Thecamel,liftingaforeleg,plucksfromatreealargemangofruit,offersittohismistress,
blinking,inhisclovenhoof,thendroopshisheadand,grunting,withupliftedneck,fumblesto
kneel.Bloomstoopshisbackforleapfrog.)
BLOOM:Icangiveyou...Imeanasyourbusinessmenagerer...MrsMarion...ifyou...
MARION: So you notice some change? (Her hands passing slowly over her trinketed
stomacher,aslowfriendlymockeryinhereyes)OPoldy,Poldy,youareapooroldstickin
themud!Goandseelife.Seethewideworld.
BLOOM:Iwasjustgoingbackforthatlotionwhitewax,orangeflowerwater.Shopcloses
earlyonThursday.Butthefirstthinginthemorning.(Hepatsdiverspockets)Thismoving
kidney.Ah!
(Hepointstothesouth,thentotheeast.Acakeofnewcleanlemonsoaparises,diffusing
lightandperfume.)
THESOAP:We'reacapitalcoupleareBloomandI.Hebrightenstheearth.I polish the
sky.
(ThefreckledfaceofSweny,thedruggist,appearsinthediscofthesoapsun.)
SWENY:Threeandapenny,please.
BLOOM:Yes.Formywife.MrsMarion.Specialrecipe.
MARION:(Softly)Poldy!
BLOOM:Yes,ma'am?
MARION:titremaunpocoilcuore?
(Indisdainshesauntersaway,plumpasapamperedpouterpigeon,hummingtheduetfrom
DonGiovanni.)
BLOOM:Areyousureaboutthatvoglio?Imeanthepronunciati...
(Hefollows,followedbythesniffingterrier.Theelderlybawdseizeshissleeve,thebristles
ofherchinmoleglittering.)
THEBAWD:Tenshillingsamaidenhead.Freshthingwasnevertouched.Fifteen.There's
nooneinitonlyheroldfatherthat'sdeaddrunk.
(Shepoints.Inthegapofherdarkdenfurtive,rainbedraggled,BridieKellystands.)
BRIDIE:Hatchstreet.Anygoodinyourmind?
(Withasqueaksheflapsherbatshawlandruns.Aburlyroughpursueswithbootedstrides.
Hestumblesonthesteps,recovers,plungesintogloom.Weaksqueaksoflaughterareheard,
weaker.)
THEBAWD:(Herwolfeyesshining)He'sgettinghispleasure.Youwon'tgetavirgininthe
flash houses. Ten shillings. Don't be all night before the polis in plain clothes sees us.
Sixtysevenisabitch.
(Leering,GertyMacdowelllimpsforward.Shedrawsfrombehind,ogling,andshowscoyly
herbloodiedclout.)
GERTY:WithallmyworldlygoodsItheeandthou.(Shemurmurs)Youdid that. I hate
you.
BLOOM:I?When?You'redreaming.Ineversawyou.
THE BAWD: Leave the gentleman alone, you cheat. Writing the gentleman false letters.
Streetwalkingandsoliciting.Betterforyourmothertakethestraptoyouatthebedpost,hussy
likeyou.
GERTY:(ToBloom) When you saw all the secrets of my bottom drawer. (She paws his
sleeve,slobbering)Dirtymarriedman!Iloveyoufordoingthattome.
(Sheglidesawaycrookedly.MrsBreeninman'sfriezeovercoatwithloosebellowspockets,
standsinthecauseway,herroguisheyeswideopen,smilinginallherherbivorousbuckteeth.)

MRSBREEN:Mr...
BLOOM: (Coughs gravely) Madam, when we last had this pleasure by letter dated the
sixteenthinstant...
MRS BREEN: Mr Bloom! You down here in the haunts of sin! I caught you nicely!
Scamp!
BLOOM:(Hurriedly)Notsoloudmyname.Whateverdoyouthinkofme?Don'tgiveme
away.Wallshaveears.Howdoyoudo?It'sagessinceI.You'relookingsplendid.Absolutely
it. Seasonable weather we are having this time of year. Black refracts heat. Short cut home
here.Interestingquarter.Rescueoffallenwomen.Magdalenasylum.Iamthesecretary...
MRSBREEN:(Holdsupafinger)Now,don'ttellabigfib!Iknowsomebodywon'tlike
that.OjustwaittillIseeMolly!(Slily)Accountforyourselfthisverysminuteorwoebetide
you!
BLOOM:(Looksbehind)Sheoftensaidshe'dliketovisit.Slumming.Theexotic,yousee.
Negroservantsinliverytooifshehadmoney.Othelloblackbrute.EugeneStratton.Eventhe
bonesandcornermanattheLivermorechristies.Boheebrothers.Sweepforthatmatter.
(TomandSamBohee,colouredcoonsinwhiteducksuits,scarletsocks,upstarchedSambo
chokers and large scarlet asters in their buttonholes, leap out. Each has his banjo slung.
Their paler smaller negroid hands jingle the twingtwang wires. Flashing white Kaffir eyes
andtuskstheyrattlethroughabreakdowninclumsyclogs,twinging,singing,backtoback,
toeheel,heeltoe,withsmackfatclackingniggerlips.)
TOMANDSAM:
There'ssomeoneinthehousewithDina
There'ssomeoneinthehouse,Iknow,
There'ssomeoneinthehousewithDina
Playingontheoldbanjo.

(They whisk black masks from raw babby faces: then, chuckling, chortling, trumming,
twanging,theydiddlediddlecakewalkdanceaway.)
BLOOM: (With a sour tenderish smile) A little frivol, shall we, if you are so inclined?
Wouldyoulikemeperhapstoembraceyoujustforafractionofasecond?
MRSBREEN:(Screamsgaily)O,youruck!Yououghttoseeyourself!
BLOOM:Foroldsake'sake.Ionlymeantasquareparty,amixedmarriageminglingofour
differentlittleconjugials.YouknowIhadasoftcornerforyou.(Gloomily)'TwasIsentyou
thatvalentineofthedeargazelle.
MRS BREEN: Glory Alice, you do look a holy show! Killing simply. (She puts out her
handinquisitively)Whatareyouhidingbehindyourback?Tellus,there'sadear.
BLOOM: (Seizes her wrist with his free hand) Josie Powell that was, prettiest deb in
Dublin.Howtimefliesby!Doyouremember,harkingbackin a retrospective arrangement,
OldChristmasnight,GeorginaSimpson'shousewarmingwhiletheywereplayingtheIrving
Bishopgame,findingthepinblindfoldandthoughtreading?Subject,whatisinthissnuffbox?
MRS BREEN: You were the lion of the night with your seriocomic recitation and you
lookedthepart.Youwerealwaysafavouritewiththeladies.
BLOOM:(Squireofdames,indinnerjacketwithwateredsilkfacings,bluemasonicbadge
inhisbuttonhole,blackbowandmotherofpearlstuds,aprismaticchampagneglasstiltedin
hishand)Ladiesandgentlemen,IgiveyouIreland,homeandbeauty.
MRSBREEN:Thedeardeaddaysbeyondrecall.Love'soldsweetsong.
BLOOM:(Meaningfullydroppinghisvoice)IconfessI'mteapotwithcuriositytofindout
whethersomeperson'ssomethingisalittleteapotatpresent.
MRSBREEN:(Gushingly)Tremendouslyteapot!London'steapotandI'msimplyteapotall
overme!(Sherubssideswithhim)Aftertheparlourmysterygamesandthecrackersfromthe
treewesatonthestaircaseottoman.Underthemistletoe.Twoiscompany.

BLOOM:(WearingapurpleNapoleonhatwithanamberhalfmoon,hisfingersandthumb
passingslowlydowntohersoftmoistmeatypalmwhichshesurrendersgently)Thewitching
hourofnight.Itookthesplinteroutofthishand,carefully,slowly.(Tenderly,asheslipson
herfingerarubyring)Lcidaremlamano.
MRS BREEN: (In a onepiece evening frock executed in moonlight blue, a tinsel sylph's
diademonherbrowwithherdancecardfallenbesidehermoonbluesatinslipper,curvesher
palm softly, breathing quickly) Voglio e non. You're hot! You're scalding! The left hand
nearesttheheart.
BLOOM:Whenyoumadeyourpresentchoicetheysaiditwasbeautyandthebeast.Ican
neverforgiveyouforthat.(Hisclenchedfistathisbrow)Thinkwhatitmeans.Allyoumeant
tomethen.(Hoarsely)Woman,it'sbreakingme!
(DenisBreen,whitetallhatted,withWisdomHely'ssandwichboards,shufflespastthemin
carpet slippers, his dull beard thrust out, muttering to right and left. Little Alf Bergan,
cloakedinthepalloftheaceofspades,dogshimtoleftandright,doubledinlaughter.)
ALFBERGAN:(Pointsjeeringatthesandwichboards)U.p:Up.
MRSBREEN:(ToBloom)Highjinksbelowstairs.(Shegiveshimthegladeye)Whydidn't
youkissthespottomakeitwell?Youwantedto.
BLOOM:(Shocked)Molly'sbestfriend!Couldyou?
MRSBREEN:(Herpulpytonguebetweenherlips,offersapigeonkiss)Hnhn.Theanswer
isalemon.Haveyoualittlepresentformethere?
BLOOM: (Offhandedly) Kosher. A snack for supper. The home without potted meat is
incomplete. I was at Leah. Mrs Bandmann Palmer. Trenchant exponent of Shakespeare.
Unfortunatelythrewawaytheprogramme.Rattlinggoodplaceroundthereforpigs'feet.Feel.
(Richie Goulding,three ladies'hats pinned onhishead, appearsweightedtoonesideby
theblacklegalbagofCollisandWardonwhichaskullandcrossbonesarepaintedinwhite
limewash.Heopensitandshowsit full of polonies, kippered herrings, Findon haddies and
tightpackedpills.)
RICHIE:BestvalueinDub.
(BaldPat,botheredbeetle,standsonthecurbstone,foldinghisnapkin,waitingtowait.)
PAT:(Advanceswithatilteddishofspillspillinggravy)Steakandkidney.Bottleoflager.
Heeheehee.WaittillIwait.
RICHIE:Goodgod.Ineverateinall...
(Withhangingheadhemarchesdoggedlyforward.Thenavvy,lurchingby,goreshimwith
hisflamingpronghorn.)
RICHIE:(Withacryofpain,hishandtohisback)Ah!Bright's!Lights!
BLOOM:(Oointstothenavvy)Aspy.Don'tattractattention.Ihatestupidcrowds.Iamnot
onpleasurebent.Iaminagravepredicament.
MRSBREEN:Humbugginganddelutheringasperusualwithyourcockandbullstory.
BLOOM:IwanttotellyoualittlesecretabouthowIcametobehere.Butyoumustnever
tell.NotevenMolly.Ihaveamostparticularreason.
MRSBREEN:(Allagog)O,notforworlds.
BLOOM:Let'swalkon.Shallus?
MRSBREEN:Let's.
(Thebawdmakesanunheededsign.BloomwalksonwithMrsBreen.Theterrierfollows,
whiningpiteously,wagginghistail.)
THEBAWD:Jewman'smelt!
BLOOM: (In an oatmeal sporting suit, a sprig of woodbine in the lapel, tony buff shirt,
shepherd'splaidSaintAndrew'scrossscarftie,whitespats,fawndustcoatonhisarm,tawny
redbrogues,fieldglassesinbandolierandagreybillycockhat)Doyourememberalonglong

time,yearsandyearsago,justafterMilly,Marionettewecalledher,wasweanedwhenweall
wenttogethertoFairyhouseraces,wasit?
MRSBREEN:(InsmartSaxetailormade,whitevelourshatandspiderveil)Leopardstown.
BLOOM:Imean,Leopardstown.AndMollywonsevenshillingsonathreeyearoldnamed
Nevertell and coming home along by Foxrock in that old fiveseater shanderadan of a
waggonetteyouwereinyourheydaythenandyouhadonthatnewhatofwhitevelourswitha
surround of molefur that Mrs Hayes advised you to buy because it was marked down to
nineteenandeleven,abitofwireandanoldragofvelveteen,andI'lllayyouwhatyoulike
shediditonpurpose...
MRSBREEN:Shedid,ofcourse,thecat!Don'ttellme!Niceadviser!
BLOOM: Because it didn't suit you one quarter as well as the other ducky little tammy
toquewiththebirdofparadisewinginitthatIadmiredonyouandyouhonestlylookedjust
toofetchinginitthoughitwasapitytokillit,youcruelnaughtycreature,littlemiteofathing
withaheartthesizeofafullstop.
MRSBREEN:(Squeezeshisarm,simpers)NaughtycruelIwas!
BLOOM:(Low,secretly,evermorerapidly) And Molly was eating a sandwichofspiced
beefoutofMrsJoeGallaher'slunchbasket.Frankly,thoughshehadheradvisersoradmirers,
Inevercaredmuchforherstyle.Shewas...
MRSBREEN:Too...
BLOOM: Yes. And Molly was laughing because Rogers and Maggot O'Reilly were
mimicking a cock as we passed a farmhouse and Marcus Tertius Moses, the tea merchant,
drovepastusinagigwithhisdaughter,DancerMoseswashername,andthepoodleinher
lapbridledupandyouaskedmeifIeverheardorreadorkneworcameacross...
MRSBREEN:(Eagerly)Yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes.
(Shefadesfromhisside.Followedbythewhiningdoghewalksontowardshellsgates.In
an archway a standing woman, bent forward, her feet apart, pisses cowily. Outside a
shutteredpubabunchofloitererslistentoatalewhichtheirbrokensnoutedgafferraspsout
with raucous humour. An armless pair of them flop wrestling, growling, in maimed sodden
playfight.)
THE GAFFER: (Crouches, his voice twisted in his snout) And when Cairns came down
fromthescaffoldinginBeaverstreetwhatwasheafterdoingitintoonlyintothebucketof
porterthatwastherewaitingontheshavingsforDerwan'splasterers.
THELOITERERS:(Guffawwithcleftpalates)Ojays!
(Their paintspeckled hats wag. Spattered with size and lime of their lodges they frisk
limblesslyabouthim.)
BLOOM:Coincidencetoo.Theythinkitfunny.Anythingbutthat.Broaddaylight.Trying
towalk.Luckynowoman.
THELOITERERS:Jays,that'sagoodone.Glaubersalts.Ojays,intothemen'sporter.
(Bloom passes. Cheap whores, singly, coupled, shawled, dishevelled, call from lanes,
doors,corners.)
THEWHORES:
Areyougoingfar,queerfellow?
How'syourmiddleleg?
Gotamatchonyou?
Eh,comeheretillIstiffenitforyou.

(Heplodgesthroughtheirsumptowardsthelightedstreetbeyond.Fromabulgeofwindow
curtainsagramophonerearsabatteredbrazentrunk.Intheshadowashebeenkeeperhaggles
withthenavvyandthetworedcoats.)
THENAVVY:(Belching)Where'sthebloodyhouse?

THESHEBEENKEEPER:Purdonstreet.Shillingabottleofstout.Respectablewoman.
THE NAVVY: (Gripping the two redcoats, staggers forward with them) Come on, you
Britisharmy!
PRIVATECARR:(Behindhisback)Heainthalfbalmy.
PRIVATECOMPTON:(Laughs)Whatho!
PRIVATECARR:(Tothenavvy)Portobellobarrackscanteen.YouaskforCarr.JustCarr.
THENAVVY:(Shouts)
Wearetheboys.OfWexford.
PRIVATECOMPTON:Say!Whatpricethesergeantmajor?
PRIVATECARR:Bennett?He'smypal.IloveoldBennett.
THENAVVY:(Shouts)
Thegallingchain.
Andfreeournativeland.

(Hestaggersforward,draggingthemwithhim.Bloomstops,atfault.Thedogapproaches,
histongueoutlolling,panting)
BLOOM: Wildgoose chase this. Disorderly houses. Lord knows where they are gone.
Drunkscoverdistancedoublequick.Nicemixup.SceneatWestlandrow.Thenjumpinfirst
class with third ticket. Then too far. Train with engine behind. Might have taken me to
Malahideorasidingforthenightorcollision.Seconddrinkdoesit.Onceisadose.Whatam
Ifollowinghimfor?Still,he'sthebestofthatlot.IfIhadn'theardaboutMrsBeaufoyPurefoy
I wouldn't have gone and wouldn't have met. Kismet. He'll lose that cash. Relieving office
here.Goodbizforcheapjacks,organs.Whatdoyelack?Soongot,soongone.Mighthavelost
my life too with that mangongwheeltracktrolleyglarejuggernaut only for presence of mind.
Can'talwayssaveyou,though.IfIhadpassedTruelock'swindowthatdaytwominuteslater
wouldhavebeenshot.Absenceofbody.Stillifbulletonlywentthroughmycoatgetdamages
for shock, five hundred pounds. What was he? Kildare street club toff. God help his
gamekeeper.
(He gazesahead, reading on thewall a scrawledchalk legendWetDreamand a phallic
design.) Odd! Molly drawing on the frosted carriagepane at Kingstown. What's that like?
(Gaudy dollwomen loll in the lighted doorways, in window embrasures, smoking birdseye
cigarettes. The odour of the sicksweet weed floats towards him in slow round ovalling
wreaths.)
THEWREATHS:Sweetarethesweets.Sweetsofsin.
BLOOM: My spine's a bit limp. Go or turn? And this food? Eat it and get all pigsticky.
Absurd I am. Waste of money. One and eightpence too much. (The retriever drives a cold
snivellingmuzzleagainsthishand,wagginghistail.)Strangehowtheytaketome.Eventhat
brutetoday.Betterspeaktohimfirst.Likewomentheylikerencontres.Stinkslikeapolecat.
Chacun son gout. He might be mad. Dogdays. Uncertain in his movements. Good fellow!
Fido!Goodfellow!Garryowen!(Thewolfdogsprawlsonhisback,wrigglingobscenelywith
beggingpaws,hislongblacktonguelollingout.)Influenceofhissurroundings.Giveandhave
donewithit.Providednobody.(Callingencouragingwordsheshamblesbackwithafurtive
poacher'stread,doggedbythesetterintoadarkstalestunkcorner.Heunrollsoneparceland
goestodumpthecrubeensoftlybutholdsbackandfeelsthetrotter.)Sizeableforthreepence.
ButthenIhaveitinmylefthand.Callsformoreeffort.Why?Smallerfromwantofuse.O,
letitslide.Twoandsix.
(With regret he lets the unrolled crubeen and trotter slide. The mastiff mauls the bundle
clumsily and gluts himself with growling greed, crunching thebones. Two raincapedwatch
approach,silent,vigilant.Theymurmurtogether.)
THEWATCH:Bloom.OfBloom.ForBloom.Bloom.
(EachlayshandonBloom'sshoulder.)

FIRSTWATCH:Caughtintheact.Commitnonuisance.
BLOOM:(Stammers)Iamdoinggoodtoothers.
(Acoveyofgulls,stormpetrels,riseshungrilyfromLiffeyslimewithBanburycakesintheir
beaks.)
THEGULLS:Kawkavekankurykake.
BLOOM:Thefriendofman.Trainedbykindness.
(Hepoints.BobDoran,topplingfromahighbarstool,swaysoverthemunchingspaniel.)
BOBDORAN:Towser.Giveusthepaw.Givethepaw.
(The bulldog growls, his scruff standing, a gobbet of pig's knuckle between his molars
throughwhichrabidscumspittledribbles.BobDoranfillssilentlyintoanarea.)
SECONDWATCH:Preventionofcrueltytoanimals.
BLOOM: (Enthusiastically) A noble work! I scolded that tramdriver on Harold's cross
bridge for illusing the poor horse with his harness scab. Bad French I got for my pains. Of
courseitwasfrostyandthelasttram.Alltalesofcircuslifearehighlydemoralising.
(Signor Maffei, passionpale, in liontamer's costume with diamond studs in his shirtfront,
stepsforward,holdingacircuspaperhoop,acurlingcarriagewhipandarevolverwithwhich
hecoversthegorgingboarhound.)
SIGNORMAFFEI:(Withasinistersmile)Ladiesandgentlemen,myeducatedgreyhound.
ItwasIbrokeinthebuckingbronchoAjaxwithmypatentspikedsaddleforcarnivores.Lash
underthebellywithaknottedthong.Blocktackleandastranglingpulleywillbringyourlion
toheel,nomatterhowfractious,evenLeoferoxthere,theLibyanmaneater.Aredhotcrowbar
and some liniment rubbing on the burning part produced Fritz of Amsterdam, the thinking
hyena. (He glares) I possess the Indian sign. The glint of my eye does it with these
breastsparklers.(Withabewitchingsmile)InowintroduceMademoiselleRuby,theprideof
thering.
FIRSTWATCH:Come.Nameandaddress.
BLOOM: I have forgotten for the moment. Ah, yes! (He takes off his high grade hat,
saluting)DrBloom,Leopold,dentalsurgeon.YouhaveheardofvonBlumPasha.Umpteen
millions.Donnerwetter!OwnshalfAustria.Egypt.Cousin.
FIRSTWATCH:Proof.
(AcardfallsfrominsidetheleatherheadbandofBloom'shat.)
BLOOM:(Inredfez,cadi'sdresscoatwithbroadgreensash,wearingafalsebadgeofthe
Legion of Honour, picks up the cardhastily and offers it) Allow me. My club is the Junior
ArmyandNavy.Solicitors:MessrsJohnHenryMenton,27Bachelor'sWalk.
FIRST WATCH: (Reads) Henry Flower. No fixed abode. Unlawfully watching and
besetting.
SECONDWATCH:Analibi.Youarecautioned.
BLOOM:(Producesfromhisheartpocketacrumpledyellowflower)Thisistheflowerin
question. It was given me by a man I don't know his name.(Plausibly) You know that old
joke, rose of Castile. Bloom. The change of name. Virag. (He murmurs privately and
confidentially)Weareengagedyousee,sergeant.Ladyinthecase.Loveentanglement.(He
shoulders the second watch gently) Dash it all. It's a way we gallants have in the navy.
Uniform that does it. (He turns gravely to the first watch) Still, of course, you do get your
Waterloosometimes.DropinsomeeveningandhaveaglassofoldBurgundy.(Tothesecond
watchgaily)I'llintroduceyou,inspector.She'sgame.Doitintheshakeofalamb'stail.
(Adarkmercurialisedfaceappears,leadingaveiledfigure.)
THEDARKMERCURY:TheCastleislookingforhim.Hewasdrummedoutofthearmy.
MARTHA:(Thickveiled,acrimsonhalterroundherneck,acopyoftheIrishTimesinher
hand,intoneofreproach,pointing)Henry!Leopold!Lionel,thoulostone!Clearmyname.

FIRSTWATCH:(Sternly)Cometothestation.
BLOOM:(Scared,hatshimself,stepsback,then,pluckingathisheartandliftinghisright
forearm on the square, he gives the sign and dueguard of fellowcraft) No, no, worshipful
master, light of love. Mistaken identity. The Lyons mail. Lesurques and Dubosc. You
remembertheChildsfratricidecase.Wemedicalmen.Bystrikinghimdeadwithahatchet.I
amwrongfullyaccused.Betteroneguiltyescapethanninetyninewrongfullycondemned.
MARTHA:(Sobbingbehindherveil)Breachofpromise.MyrealnameisPeggyGriffin.
Hewrotetomethathewasmiserable.I'lltellmybrother,theBectiveruggerfullback,onyou,
heartlessflirt.
BLOOM:(Behindhishand)She'sdrunk.Thewomanisinebriated.(Hemurmurs vaguely
thepassofEphraim)Shitbroleeth.
SECOND WATCH: (Tears in his eyes, to Bloom) You ought to be thoroughly well
ashamedofyourself.
BLOOM: Gentlemen of the jury, let me explain. A pure mare's nest. I am a man
misunderstood.Iambeingmadeascapegoatof.Iamarespectablemarried man, without a
stain on my character. I live in Eccles street. My wife, I am the daughter of a most
distinguished commander, a gallant upstanding gentleman, what do you call him,
MajorgeneralBrianTweedy,oneofBritain'sfightingmenwhohelpedtowinourbattles.Got
hismajorityfortheheroicdefenceofRorke'sDrift.
FIRSTWATCH:Regiment.
BLOOM:(Turnstothegallery)TheroyalDublins,boys,thesaltoftheearth,knownthe
worldover.IthinkIseesomeoldcomradesinarmsupthereamongyou.TheR.D.F.,with
ourownMetropolitanpolice,guardiansofourhomes,thepluckiestladsandthefinestbodyof
men,asphysique,intheserviceofoursovereign.
AVOICE:Turncoat!UptheBoers!WhobooedJoeChamberlain?
BLOOM:(Hishandontheshoulderofthefirstwatch)MyolddadtoowasaJ.P.I'mas
staunch a Britisher as you are, sir. I fought with the colours for king and country in the
absentminded war under general Gough in the park and was disabled at Spion Kop and
Bloemfontein,wasmentionedindispatches.Ididallawhitemancould.(Withquietfeeling)
JimBludso.Holdhernozzleagainthebank.
FIRSTWATCH:Professionortrade.
BLOOM:Well,Ifollowaliteraryoccupation,authorjournalist.Infactwearejustbringing
outacollectionofprizestoriesofwhichIamtheinventor,somethingthatisanentirelynew
departure.IamconnectedwiththeBritishandIrishpress.Ifyouringup...
(MylesCrawfordstridesoutjerkily,aquillbetweenhisteeth.Hisscarletbeakblazeswithin
theaureoleofhisstrawhat.HedanglesahankofSpanishonionsinonehandandholdswith
theotherhandatelephonereceivernozzletohisear.)
MYLESCRAWFORD:(Hiscock'swattleswagging)Hello,seventyseveneightfour.Hello.
Freeman'sUrinalandWeeklyArsewipehere.Paralyse Europe. You which?Bluebags?Who
writes?IsitBloom?
(Mr Philip Beaufoy, palefaced, stands in the witnessbox, in accurate morning dress,
outbreast pocket with peak of handkerchief showing, creased lavender trousers and patent
boots.HecarriesalargeportfoliolabelledMatcham'sMasterstrokes.)
BEAUFOY:(Drawls)No,youaren't.NotbyalongshotifIknowit.Idon'tseeitthat'sall.
No born gentleman, noone with the most rudimentary promptings of a gentleman would
stoop to such particularly loathsome conduct. One of those, my lord. A plagiarist. A soapy
sneakmasqueradingasalitterateur.It'sperfectlyobviousthatwiththemostinherentbaseness
he has cribbed some of my bestselling copy, really gorgeous stuff, a perfect gem, the love
passagesinwhicharebeneathsuspicion. The Beaufoy books of love and great possessions,
withwhichyourlordshipisdoubtlessfamiliar,areahouseholdwordthroughoutthekingdom.

BLOOM:(Murmurswithhangdogmeeknessglum)Thatbitaboutthelaughingwitchhand
inhandItakeexceptionto,ifImay...
BEAUFOY: (His lip upcurled, smiles superciliously on the court) You funny ass, you!
You're too beastly awfully weird for words! I don't think you need over excessively
disincommodateyourselfinthatregard.MyliteraryagentMrJ.B.Pinkerisinattendance.I
presume,mylord,weshallreceivetheusualwitnesses'fees,shan'twe?Weareconsiderably
outofpocketoverthisballypressmanjohnny,thisjackdawofRheims,whohasnotevenbeen
toauniversity.
BLOOM:(Indistinctly)Universityoflife.Badart.
BEAUFOY: (Shouts) It's a damnably foul lie, showing the moral rottenness of the man!
(He extends his portfolio) We have here damning evidence, the corpus delicti, my lord, a
specimenofmymaturerworkdisfiguredbythehallmarkofthebeast.
AVOICEFROMTHEGALLERY:
Moses,Moses,kingofthejews,WipedhisarseintheDailyNews.
BLOOM:(Bravely)Overdrawn.
BEAUFOY:Youlowcad!Yououghttobeduckedinthehorsepond,yourotter!(To the
court) Why, look at the man's private life! Leading a quadruple existence! Street angel and
housedevil.Notfittobementionedinmixedsociety!Thearchconspiratoroftheage!
BLOOM:(Tothecourt)Andhe,abachelor,how...
FIRSTWATCH:TheKingversusBloom.CallthewomanDriscoll.
THECRIER:MaryDriscoll,scullerymaid!
(MaryDriscoll,aslipshodservantgirl,approaches.Shehasabucketonthecrookofher
armandascouringbrushinherhand.)
SECONDWATCH:Another!Areyouoftheunfortunateclass?
MARYDRISCOLL:(Indignantly)I'mnotabadone.Ibeararespectablecharacterandwas
four months in my last place. I was in a situation, six pounds a year and my chances with
FridaysoutandIhadtoleaveowingtohiscarryingson.
FIRSTWATCH:Whatdoyoutaxhimwith?
MARYDRISCOLL:HemadeacertainsuggestionbutIthoughtmoreofmyselfaspooras
Iam.
BLOOM:(In housejacket of ripplecloth, flannel trousers, heelless slippers, unshaven, his
hair rumpled: softly) I treated you white. I gave you mementos, smart emerald garters far
aboveyourstation.IncautiouslyItookyourpartwhenyouwereaccusedofpilfering.There's
amediuminallthings.Playcricket.
MARYDRISCOLL:(Excitedly)AsGodislookingdownonmethisnightifeverIlaida
handtothemoysters!
FIRSTWATCH:Theoffencecomplainedof?Didsomethinghappen?
MARYDRISCOLL:Hesurprisedmeintherereofthepremises,Yourhonour,when the
missuswasoutshoppingonemorningwitharequestforasafetypin.HeheldmeandIwas
discolouredinfourplacesasaresult.Andheinterferedtwictwithmyclothing.
BLOOM:Shecounterassaulted.
MARY DRISCOLL: (Scornfully) I had more respect for the scouringbrush, so I had. I
remonstratedwithhim,Yourlord,andheremarked:keepitquiet.
(Generallaughter.)
GEORGE FOTTRELL: (Clerk of the crown and peace, resonantly) Order in court! The
accusedwillnowmakeabogusstatement.
(Bloom,pleadingnotguiltyandholdingafullblownwaterlily,beginsalongunintelligible
speech.Theywouldhearwhatcounselhadtosayinhisstirringaddresstothegrandjury.He
was down and out but, though branded as a black sheep, if he might say so, he meant to

reform,toretrievethememoryofthepastinapurelysisterlywayandreturntonatureasa
purelydomesticanimal.Asevenmonths'child,hehadbeencarefullybroughtupandnurtured
byanagedbedriddenparent.Theremighthavebeenlapsesofanerringfatherbuthewanted
to turn over a new leaf and now, when at long last in sight of the whipping post, to lead a
homely life in the evening of his days, permeated by the affectionate surroundings of the
heavingbosomofthefamily.AnacclimatisedBritisher,hehadseenthatsummerevefromthe
footplate of an engine cab of the Loop line railway company while the rain refrained from
falling glimpses, as it were, through the windows of loveful households in Dublin city and
urbandistrictofscenestrulyruralofhappinessofthebetterlandwithDockrell'swallpaperat
oneandninepenceadozen,innocentBritishbornbairnslispingprayerstotheSacredInfant,
youthful scholars grappling with their pensums or model young ladies playing on the
pianoforte or anon all with fervour reciting the family rosary round the crackling Yulelog
while in the boreens and green lanes the colleens with their swains strolled what times the
strains of the organtoned melodeon Britannia metalbound with four acting stops and
twelvefoldbellows,asacrifice,greatestbargainever...
(Renewedlaughter.Hemumblesincoherently.Reporterscomplainthattheycannothear.)
LONGHANDANDSHORTHAND:(Withoutlookingupfromtheirnotebooks)Loosenhis
boots.
PROFESSORMACHUGH:(Fromthepresstable,coughsandcalls)Coughitup,man.Get
itoutinbits.
(ThecrossexaminationproceedsreBloomandthebucket.Alargebucket.Bloom himself.
Bowel trouble. In Beaver street Gripe, yes. Quite bad. A plasterer's bucket. By walking
stifflegged.Suffereduntoldmisery.Deadlyagony.Aboutnoon.Loveorburgundy.Yes,some
spinach. Crucial moment. He did not look in the bucket Nobody. Rather a mess. Not
completely.ATitbitsbacknumber.)
(Uproar and catcalls. Bloom in a torn frockcoat stained with whitewash, dinged silk hat
sidewaysonhishead,astripofstickingplasteracrosshisnose,talksinaudibly.)
J.J.O'MOLLOY:(Inbarrister'sgreywigandstuffgown,speakingwithavoiceofpained
protest) This is no place for indecent levity at the expense of an erring mortal disguised in
liquor.WearenotinabeargardennoratanOxfordragnoristhisatravestyofjustice.My
client is an infant, a poor foreign immigrant who started scratch as a stowaway and is now
trying to turn an honest penny. The trumped up misdemeanour was due to a momentary
aberration of heredity, brought on by hallucination, such familiarities as the alleged guilty
occurrencebeingquitepermittedinmyclient'snativeplace,thelandofthePharaoh.Prima
facie,Iputittoyouthattherewasnoattemptatcarnallyknowing.Intimacydidnotoccurand
theoffencecomplainedofbyDriscoll,thathervirtuewassolicited,wasnotrepeated.Iwould
dealinespecialwithatavism.Therehavebeencasesofshipwreckandsomnambulisminmy
client's family. If the accused could speak he could a tale unfoldone of the strangest that
have ever been narrated between the covers of a book. He himself, my lord, is a physical
wreck from cobbler's weak chest. His submission is that he is of Mongolian extraction and
irresponsibleforhisactions.Notallthere,infact.
BLOOM:(Barefoot, pigeonbreasted, in lascar's vest and trousers, apologetic toes turned
in, opens his tiny mole's eyes and looks about him dazedly, passing a slow hand across his
forehead. Then he hitches his belt sailor fashion and with a shrug of oriental obeisance
salutesthecourt,pointingonethumbheavenward.)Himmakeevellymucheefinenight.(He
beginstoliltsimply)
Lilipoolilchile
Blingeepigfootevlynight
Payeetwoshilly...

(Heishowleddown.)
J. J. O'MOLLOY: (Hotly to the populace) This is a lonehand fight. By Hades, I will not
haveanyclientofminegaggedandbadgeredinthisfashionbyapackofcursandlaughing

hyenas. The Mosaic code has superseded the law of the jungle. I say it and I say it
emphatically,withoutwishingforonemomenttodefeattheendsofjustice,accusedwasnot
accessorybeforetheactandprosecutrixhasnotbeentamperedwith.Theyoungpersonwas
treatedbydefendantasifshewerehisveryowndaughter.(BloomtakesJ.J.O'Molloy'shand
andraisesittohislips.)Ishallcallrebuttingevidencetoproveuptothehiltthatthehidden
handisagainatitsoldgame.WhenindoubtpersecuteBloom.Myclient,aninnatelybashful
man,wouldbethelastmanintheworldtodoanythingungentlemanlywhichinjuredmodesty
could object to or cast a stone at a girl who took the wrong turning when some dastard,
responsibleforhercondition,hadworkedhisownsweetwillonher.Hewantstogostraight.I
regard him as the whitest man I know. He is down on his luck at present owing to the
mortgaging of his extensive property at Agendath Netaim in faraway Asia Minor, slides of
whichwillnowbeshown.(ToBloom)Isuggestthatyouwilldothehandsomething.
BLOOM:Apennyinthepound.
(TheimageofthelakeofKinnerethwithblurredcattlecroppinginsilverhazeisprojected
on the wall. Moses Dlugacz, ferreteyed albino, in blue dungarees, stands up in the gallery,
holdingineachhandanorangecitronandaporkkidney.)
DLUGACZ:(Hoarsely)Bleibtreustrasse,Berlin,W.13.
(J.J.O'Molloystepsontoalowplinthandholdsthelapelofhiscoatwithsolemnity.His
facelengthens,growspaleandbearded,withsunkeneyes,theblotchesofphthisisandhectic
cheekbonesofJohnF.Taylor.Heapplieshishandkerchieftohismouthandscrutinisesthe
gallopingtideofrosepinkblood.)
J.J.O'MOLLOY:(Almostvoicelessly)Excuseme.Iamsufferingfromaseverechill,have
recently come from a sickbed. A few wellchosen words. (He assumes the avine head, foxy
moustacheandproboscidaleloquenceofSeymourBushe.)Whentheangel'sbookcomestobe
opened if aught that the pensive bosom has inaugurated of soultransfigured and of
soultransfiguringdeservestoliveIsayaccordtheprisoneratthebarthesacredbenefitofthe
doubt.(Apaperwithsomethingwrittenonitishandedintocourt.)
BLOOM:(Incourtdress)Cangivebestreferences.MessrsCallan,Coleman.MrWisdom
HelyJ.P.MyoldchiefJoeCuffe.MrV.B.Dillon,exlordmayorofDublin.Ihavemovedin
thecharmedcircleofthehighest...QueensofDublinsociety.(Carelessly)Iwasjustchatting
thisafternoonattheviceregallodgetomyoldpals,sirRobertandladyBall,astronomerroyal
atthelevee.SirBob,Isaid...
MRS YELVERTON BARRY: (In lowcorsaged opal balldress and elbowlength ivory
gloves, wearing a sabletrimmed brickquilted dolman, a comb of brilliants and panache of
osprey in her hair) Arrest him, constable. He wrote me an anonymous letter in prentice
backhand when my husband was in the North Riding of Tipperary on the Munster circuit,
signedJamesLovebirch.HesaidthathehadseenfromthegodsmypeerlessglobesasIsatin
aboxoftheTheatreRoyalatacommandperformanceofLaCigale.Ideeplyinflamedhim,
hesaid.Hemadeimproperoverturestometomisconductmyselfathalfpastfourp.m.onthe
followingThursday,Dunsinktime.Heofferedtosendmethroughthepostaworkoffiction
byMonsieurPauldeKock,entitledTheGirlwiththeThreePairsofStays.
MRSBELLINGHAM:(Incapandsealconeymantle,wrappeduptothenose,stepsoutof
her brougham and scans through tortoiseshell quizzingglasses which she takes from inside
her huge opossum muff) Also to me. Yes, I believe it is the same objectionable person.
Becausehe closed my carriage dooroutsidesirThornleyStoker'sonesleetydayduringthe
coldsnapofFebruaryninetythreewheneventhegridofthewastepipeandtheballstopinmy
bath cistern were frozen. Subsequently he enclosed a bloom of edelweiss culled on the
heights, as he said, in my honour. I had it examined by a botanical expert and elicited the
informationthatitwasablossomofthehomegrownpotatoplantpurloinedfromaforcingcase
ofthemodelfarm.
MRSYELVERTONBARRY:Shameonhim!
(Acrowdofslutsandragamuffinssurgesforward)

THE SLUTS AND RAGAMUFFINS: (Screaming) Stop thief! Hurrah there, Bluebeard!
ThreecheersforIkeyMo!
SECONDWATCH:(Produceshandcuffs)Herearethedarbies.
MRSBELLINGHAM:Headdressedmeinseveralhandwritingswithfulsomecompliments
asaVenusinfursandallegedprofoundpityformyfrostboundcoachmanPalmerwhileinthe
samebreathheexpressedhimselfasenviousofhisearflapsandfleecysheepskinsandofhis
fortunateproximitytomyperson,whenstandingbehindmychairwearingmyliveryandthe
armorialbearingsoftheBellinghamescutcheongarnishedsable,abuck'sheadcoupedor.He
laudedalmostextravagantlymynetherextremities,myswellingcalvesinsilkhosedrawnup
to the limit, and eulogised glowingly my other hidden treasures in priceless lace which, he
said,hecouldconjureup.Heurgedme(statingthathefeltithismissioninlifetourgeme)to
defilethemarriagebed,tocommitadulteryattheearliestpossibleopportunity.
THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (In amazon costume, hard hat,
jackboots cockspurred, vermilion waistcoat, fawn musketeer gauntlets with braided drums,
long train held up and hunting crop with which she strikes her welt constantly) Also me.
BecausehesawmeonthepologroundofthePhoenixparkatthematchAllIrelandversusthe
RestofIreland.Myeyes,Iknow,shonedivinelyasIwatchedCaptainSloggerDennehyof
theInniskillings win the final chukkar on his darling cob Centaur. 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 have it
still.Itrepresentsapartiallynudeseorita,frailandlovely(hiswife,ashesolemnlyassured
me,takenbyhimfromnature),practisingillicitintercoursewithamusculartorero,evidently
ablackguard.Heurgedmetodolikewise,tomisbehave,tosinwithofficersofthegarrison.
He implored me to soil his letter in an unspeakable manner, to chastise him as he richly
deserves,tobestrideandridehim,togivehimamostvicioushorsewhipping.
MRSBELLINGHAM:Metoo.
MRSYELVERTONBARRY:Metoo.
(SeveralhighlyrespectableDublinladiesholdupimproperlettersreceivedfromBloom.)
THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (Stamps her jingling spurs in a
suddenparoxysmoffury)Iwill,bytheGodaboveme.I'llscourgethepigeonliveredcuras
longasIcanstandoverhim.I'llflayhimalive.
BLOOM: (His eyes closing, quails expectantly) Here? (He squirms) Again! (He pants
cringing)Ilovethedanger.
THEHONOURABLEMRSMERVYNTALBOYS:Verymuchso!I'llmakeithotforyou.
I'llmakeyoudanceJackLattenforthat.
MRSBELLINGHAM:Tanhisbreechwell,theupstart!Writethestarsandstripesonit!
MRSYELVERTONBARRY:Disgraceful!There'snoexcuseforhim!Amarriedman!
BLOOM:Allthesepeople.Imeantonlythespankingidea.Awarmtinglingglowwithout
effusion.Refinedbirchingtostimulatethecirculation.
THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (Laughs derisively) O, did you, my
finefellow?Well,bythelivingGod,you'llgetthesurpriseofyourlifenow,believeme,the
mostunmercifulhidingamaneverbargainedfor.Youhavelashedthedormanttigressinmy
natureintofury.
MRS BELLINGHAM: (Shakes her muff and quizzingglasses vindictively) Make him
smart,Hannadear.Givehimginger.Thrashthemongrelwithinaninchofhislife.Thecato'
ninetails.Geldhim.Vivisecthim.
BLOOM:(Shuddering,shrinking,joinshishands:withhangdogmien)Ocold!Oshivery!
It was your ambrosial beauty. Forget, forgive. Kismet. Let me off this once. (He offers the
othercheek)
MRS YELVERTON BARRY: (Severely) Don't do so on any account, Mrs Talboys! He

shouldbesoundlytrounced!
THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (Unbuttoning her gauntlet violently)
I'lldonosuchthing.Pigdogandalwayswaseversincehewaspupped!Todareaddressme!
I'llfloghimblackandblueinthepublicstreets.I'lldigmyspursinhimuptotherowel.Heis
a wellknown cuckold. (She swishes her huntingcrop savagely in the air) Take down his
trouserswithoutlossoftime.Comehere,sir!Quick!Ready?
BLOOM:(Trembling,beginningtoobey)Theweatherhasbeensowarm.
(DavyStephens,ringletted,passeswithabevyofbarefootnewsboys.)
DAVY STEPHENS: Messenger of the Sacred Heart and Evening Telegraph with Saint
Patrick'sDaysupplement.ContainingthenewaddressesofallthecuckoldsinDublin.
(TheveryreverendCanonO'Hanloninclothofgoldcopeelevatesandexposesamarble
timepiece.BeforehimFatherConroyandthereverendJohnHughesS.J.bendlow.)
THETIMEPIECE:(Unportalling)
Cuckoo.
Cuckoo.
Cuckoo.

(Thebrassquoitsofabedareheardtojingle.)
THEQUOITS:Jigjag.Jigajiga.Jigjag.
(A panel of fog rolls back rapidly, revealing rapidly in the jurybox the faces of Martin
Cunningham, foreman, silkhatted, Jack Power, Simon Dedalus, Tom Kernan, Ned Lambert,
JohnHenryMentonMylesCrawford,Lenehan,PaddyLeonard,NoseyFlynn,M'Coyandthe
featurelessfaceofaNamelessOne.)
THENAMELESSONE:Barebackriding.Weightforage.Gob,heorganisedher.
THEJURORS:(Alltheirheadsturnedtohisvoice)Really?
THENAMELESSONE:(Snarls)Arseovertip.Hundredshillingstofive.
THEJURORS:(Alltheirheadsloweredinassent)Mostofusthoughtasmuch.
FIRSTWATCH:Heisamarkedman.Anothergirl'splaitcut.Wanted:JacktheRipper.A
thousandpoundsreward.
SECONDWATCH:(Awed,whispers)Andinblack.Amormon.Anarchist.
THE CRIER: (Loudly) Whereas Leopold Bloom of no fixed abode is a wellknown
dynamitard, forger, bigamist, bawd and cuckold and a public nuisance to the citizens of
Dublinandwhereasatthiscommissionofassizesthemosthonourable...
(HisHonour,sirFrederickFalkiner,recorderofDublin,injudicialgarbofgreystonerises
fromthebench,stonebearded.Hebearsinhisarmsanumbrellasceptre.Fromhisforehead
arisestarklytheMosaicramshorns.)
THERECORDER:IwillputanendtothiswhiteslavetrafficandridDublinofthisodious
pest.Scandalous!(He dons the black cap) Let him be taken, Mr Subsheriff, from the dock
where he now stands and detained in custody in Mountjoy prison during His Majesty's
pleasureandtherebehangedbytheneckuntilheisdeadandthereinfailnotatyourperilor
may the Lord have mercy on your soul. Remove him. (A black skullcap descends upon his
head.)
(ThesubsheriffLongJohnFanningappears,smokingapungentHenryClay.)
LONGJOHNFANNING:(Scowlsandcallswithrichrollingutterance)Who'llhangJudas
Iscariot?
(H.Rumbold,masterbarber,inabloodcolouredjerkinandtanner'sapron,aropecoiled
overhisshoulder,mountstheblock.Alifepreserverandanailstuddedbludgeonarestuckin
hisbelt.Herubsgrimlyhisgrapplinghands,knobbedwithknuckledusters.)
RUMBOLD:(Totherecorderwithsinisterfamiliarity)HangingHarry,yourMajesty,the
Merseyterror.Fiveguineasajugular.Neckornothing.

(ThebellsofGeorge'schurchtollslowly,louddarkiron.)
THEBELLS:Heigho!Heigho!
BLOOM: (Desperately) Wait. Stop. Gulls. Good heart. I saw. Innocence. Girl in the
monkeyhouse. Zoo. Lewd chimpanzee. (Breathlessly) Pelvic basin. Her artless blush
unmanned me. (Overcome with emotion) I left the precincts. (He turns to a figure in the
crowd,appealing)Hynes, may I speak to you? You know me. That three shillings you can
keep.Ifyouwantalittlemore...
HYNES:(Coldly)Youareaperfectstranger.
SECONDWATCH:(Pointstothecorner)Thebombishere.
FIRSTWATCH:Infernalmachinewithatimefuse.
BLOOM:No,no.Pig'sfeet.Iwasatafuneral.
FIRSTWATCH:(Drawshistruncheon)Liar!
(The beagle lifts his snout, showing the grey scorbutic face of Paddy Dignam. He has
gnawedall.Heexhalesaputridcarcasefedbreath.Hegrowstohumansizeandshape.His
dachshund coat becomes a brown mortuary habit. His green eye flashes bloodshot. Half of
oneear,allthenoseandboththumbsareghouleaten.)
PADDY DIGNAM: (In a hollow voice) It is true. It was my funeral. Doctor Finucane
pronouncedlifeextinctwhenIsuccumbedtothediseasefromnaturalcauses.
(Heliftshismutilatedashenfacemoonwardsandbayslugubriously.)
BLOOM:(Intriumph)Youhear?
PADDYDIGNAM:Bloom,IamPaddyDignam'sspirit.List,list,Olist!
BLOOM:ThevoiceisthevoiceofEsau.
SECONDWATCH:(Blesseshimself)Howisthatpossible?
FIRSTWATCH:Itisnotinthepennycatechism.
PADDYDIGNAM:Bymetempsychosis.Spooks.
AVOICE:Orocks.
PADDYDIGNAM:(Earnestly) Once I was in the employ of Mr J. H. Menton, solicitor,
commissionerforoathsandaffidavits,of27Bachelor'sWalk.NowIamdefunct,thewallof
thehearthypertrophied.Hardlines.Thepoorwifewasawfullycutup.Howisshebearingit?
Keep her off that bottle of sherry. (He looks round him) A lamp. I must satisfy an animal
need.Thatbuttermilkdidn'tagreewithme.
(TheportlyfigureofJohnO'Connell,caretaker,standsforth,holdingabunchofkeystied
withcrape.BesidehimstandsFatherCoffey,chaplain,toadbellied,wrynecked,inasurplice
andbandannanightcap,holdingsleepilyastafftwistedpoppies.)
FATHERCOFFEY:(Yawns,thenchantswithahoarsecroak)Namine.Jacobs.Vobiscuits.
Amen.
JOHN O'CONNELL: (Foghorns stormily through his megaphone) Dignam, Patrick T,
deceased.
PADDYDIGNAM:(Withprickedupears,winces)Overtones.(Hewriggles forward and
placesaneartotheground)Mymaster'svoice!
JOHN O'CONNELL: Burial docket letter number U. P. eightyfive thousand. Field
seventeen.HouseofKeys.Plot,onehundredandone.
(PaddyDignamlistenswithvisibleeffort,thinking,histailstiffpointcd,hisearscocked.)
PADDYDIGNAM:Prayforthereposeofhissoul.
(He worms down through a coalhole, his brown habit trailing its tether over rattling
pebbles. After him toddles an obese grandfather rat on fungus turtle paws under a grey
carapace.Dignam'svoice,muffled,isheardbayingunderground:Dignam'sdeadandgone
below.TomRochford, robinredbreasted, in cap and breeches, jumps from his twocolumned

machine.)
TOMROCHFORD:(Ahandtohisbreastbone,bows)ReubenJ.AflorinIfindhim.(He
fixesthemanholewitharesolutestare)Myturnnowon.FollowmeuptoCarlow.
(Heexecutesadaredevilsalmonleapintheairandisengulfedinthecoalhole.Twodiscs
onthecolumnswobble,eyesofnought.Allrecedes.Bloomplodgesforwardagainthroughthe
sump. Kisses chirp amid the rifts of fog a piano sounds. He stands before a lighted house,
listening.Thekisses,wingingfromtheirbowersflyabouthim,twittering,warbling,cooing.)
THEKISSES:(Warbling)Leo!(Twittering)IckylickymickystickyforLeo!(Cooing)Coo
coocoo! Yummyyum, Womwom! (Warbling) Big comebig! Pirouette! Leopopold!
(Twittering)Leeolee!(Warbling)OLeo!
(Theyrustle,flutteruponhisgarments,alight,brightgiddyflecks,silverysequins.)
BLOOM:Aman'stouch.Sadmusic.Churchmusic.Perhapshere.
(ZoeHiggins,ayoungwhoreinasapphireslip,closedwiththreebronze buckles, a slim
blackvelvetfilletroundherthroat,nods,tripsdownthestepsandaccostshim.)
ZOE:Areyoulookingforsomeone?He'sinsidewithhisfriend.
BLOOM:IsthisMrsMack's?
ZOE: No, eightyone. Mrs Cohen's. You might go farther and fare worse. Mother
Slipperslapper.(Familiarly)She'sonthejobherselftonightwiththevethertipsterthatgives
herallthewinnersandpaysfor her son in Oxford. Working overtime but her luck's turned
today.(Suspiciously)You'renothisfather,areyou?
BLOOM:NotI!
ZOE:Youbothinblack.Haslittlemouseyanyticklestonight?
(Hisskin,alert,feelsherfingertipsapproach.Ahandglidesoverhisleftthigh.)
ZOE:How'sthenuts?
BLOOM:Offside.Curiouslytheyareontheright.Heavier,Isuppose.Oneinamillionmy
tailor,Mesias,says.
ZOE:(Insuddenalarm)You'veahardchancre.
BLOOM:Notlikely.
ZOE:Ifeelit.
(Herhandslidesintohislefttrouserpocketandbringsoutahardblackshrivelledpotato.
SheregardsitandBloomwithdumbmoistlips.)
BLOOM:Atalisman.Heirloom.
ZOE:ForZoe?Forkeeps?Forbeingsonice,eh?
(She puts the potato greedily into a pocket then links his arm, cuddling him with supple
warmth. He smiles uneasily. Slowly, note by note, orientalmusicisplayed.Hegazesinthe
tawnycrystalofhereyes,ringedwithkohol.Hissmilesoftens.)
ZOE:You'llknowmethenexttime.
BLOOM:(Forlornly)Ineverlovedadeargazellebutitwassureto...
(Gazelles are leaping, feeding on the mountains. Near are lakes. Round their shores file
shadowsblackofcedargroves.Aromarises,astronghairgrowthofresin.Itburns,theorient,
askyofsapphire,cleftbythebronzeflightofeagles.Underitliesthewomancitynude,white,
still,cool, in luxury. A fountain murmurs among damask roses. Mammoth roses murmur of
scarletwinegrapes.Awineofshame,lust,bloodexudes,strangelymurmuring.)
ZOE:(Murmuringsingsongwiththemusic,herodalisklipslusciouslysmearedwithsalve
ofswinefatandrosewater)Schorachaniwenowach,benoithHierushaloim.
BLOOM:(Fascinated)Ithoughtyouwereofgoodstockbyyouraccent.
ZOE:Andyouknowwhatthoughtdid?
(Shebiteshiseargentlywithlittlegoldstoppedteeth,sendingonhimacloyingbreathof

stale garlic. The roses draw apart, disclose a sepulchre of the gold of kings and their
moulderingbones.)
BLOOM:(Draws back, mechanically caressing her right bub with a flat awkward hand)
AreyouaDublingirl?
ZOE: (Catches a stray hair deftly and twists it to her coil) No bloody fear. I'm English.
Haveyouaswaggerroot?
BLOOM:(Asbefore)Rarelysmoke,dear.Cigarnowandthen.Childishdevice. (Lewdly)
Themouthcanbebetterengagedthanwithacylinderofrankweed.
ZOE:Goon.Makeastumpspeechoutofit.
BLOOM:(In workman's corduroy overalls, black gansy with red floating tieandapache
cap)Mankindisincorrigible.SirWalterRaleghbroughtfromthenewworldthatpotatoand
that weed, the one a killer of pestilence by absorption, the other a poisoner of the ear, eye,
heart,memory,willunderstanding,all.Thatistosayhebroughtthepoisonahundredyears
before another person whose name I forget brought the food. Suicide. Lies. All our habits.
Why,lookatourpubliclife!
(Midnightchimesfromdistantsteeples.)
THECHIMES:Turnagain,Leopold!LordmayorofDublin!
BLOOM: (In alderman's gown and chain) Electors of Arran Quay, Inns Quay, Rotunda,
Mountjoy and North Dock, better run a tramline, I say, from the cattlemarket to the river.
That's the music of the future. That's my programme. Cui bono? But our bucaneering
Vanderdeckensintheirphantomshipoffinance...
ANELECTOR:Threetimesthreeforourfuturechiefmagistrate!
(Theauroraborealisofthetorchlightprocessionleaps.)
THETORCHBEARERS:Hooray!
(Several wellknown burgesses, city magnates and freemen of the city shake hands with
Bloom and congratulate him. Timothy Harrington, late thrice Lord Mayor of Dublin,
imposing in mayoral scarlet, gold chain and white silk tie, confers with councillor Lorcan
Sherlock,locumtenens.Theynodvigorouslyinagreement.)
LATELORDMAYORHARRINGTON:(Inscarletrobewithmace,goldmayoralchain
andlargewhitesilkscarf)ThataldermansirLeoBloom'sspeechbeprintedattheexpenseof
the ratepayers. That the house in which he was born be ornamented with a commemorative
tabletandthatthethoroughfarehithertoknownasCowParlouroffCorkstreetbehenceforth
designatedBoulevardBloom.
COUNCILLORLORCANSHERLOCK:Carriedunanimously.
BLOOM: (Impassionedly) These flying Dutchmen or lying Dutchmen as they recline in
their upholstered poop, casting dice, what reck they? Machines is their cry, their chimera,
their panacea. Laboursaving apparatuses, supplanters, bugbears, manufactured monsters for
mutual murder, hideous hobgoblins produced by a horde of capitalistic lusts upon our
prostitutedlabour.Thepoormanstarveswhiletheyaregrassingtheirroyalmountainstagsor
shootingpeasantsandphartridgesintheirpurblindpompofpelfandpower.Buttheirreignis
roverforreverandeverandev...
(Prolonged applause. Venetian masts, maypoles and festal arches spring up. A streamer
bearing the legends Cead Mile Failte and Mah Ttob Melek Israel Spans the street. All the
windows are thronged with sightseers, chiefly ladies. Along the route the regiments of the
royalDublinFusiliers,theKing'sownScottishBorderers,theCameronHighlandersandthe
Welsh Fusiliers standing to attention, keep back the crowd. Boys from High school are
perched on the lampposts, telegraph poles, windowsills, cornices, gutters, chimneypots,
railings,rainspouts,whistlingandcheeringthepillarofthecloudappears.Afifeanddrum
band is heard in the distance playing the Kol Nidre. The beaters approach with imperial
eagles hoisted, trailing banners and waving oriental palms. The chryselephantine papal

standard rises high, surrounded by pennons of the civic flag. The van of the procession
appearsheadedbyJohnHowardParnell,citymarshal,inachessboardtabard,theAthlone
Poursuivant and Ulster King of Arms. They are followed by the Right Honourable Joseph
Hutchinson, lord mayor of Dublin, his lordship the lord mayor of Cork, their worships the
mayors of Limerick, Galway, Sligo and Waterford, twentyeight Irish representative peers,
sirdars,grandeesandmaharajahsbearingtheclothofestate,theDublinMetropolitanFire
Brigade, the chapter of the saints of finance in their plutocratic order of precedence, the
bishopofDownandConnor,HisEminenceMichaelcardinalLogue,archbishopofArmagh,
primate of all Ireland, His Grace, the most reverend Dr William Alexander, archbishop of
Armagh,primateofallIreland,thechiefrabbi,thepresbyterianmoderator,theheadsofthe
baptist,anabaptist,methodistandMoravianchapelsandthehonorarysecretaryofthesociety
of friends. After them march the guilds and trades and trainbands with flying colours:
coopers,birdfanciers,millwrights,newspapercanvassers,lawscriveners,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 losses, dyers and cleaners, export
bottlers,fellmongers, ticketwriters, heraldic seal engravers, horse repository hands, bullion
brokers, cricket and archery outfitters, riddlemakers, egg and potato factors, hosiers and
glovers, plumbing contractors. After them march gentlemen of the bedchamber, Black Rod,
DeputyGarter,GoldStick,themasterofhorse,thelordgreatchamberlain,theearlmarshal,
the high constable carrying the sword of state, saint Stephen's iron crown, the chalice and
bible. Four buglers on foot blow a sennet. Beefeaters reply, winding clarions of welcome.
UnderanarchoftriumphBloomappears, bareheaded, in a crimson velvet mantle trimmed
withermine,bearingSaintEdward'sstafftheorbandsceptrewiththedove,thecurtana.He
isseatedonamilkwhitehorsewithlongflowingcrimsontail,richlycaparisoned,withgolden
headstall.Wildexcitement.Theladiesfromtheirbalconiesthrowdownrosepetals.Theairis
perfumedwithessences.Themencheer.Bloom'sboysrunamidthebystanderswithbranches
ofhawthornandwrenbushes.)
BLOOM'SBOYS:
Thewren,thewren,
Thekingofallbirds,
SaintStephen'shisday
Wascaughtinthefurze.

A BLACKSMITH: (Murmurs) For the honour of God! And is that Bloom? He scarcely
looksthirtyone.
APAVIORANDFLAGGER:That'sthefamousBloomnow,theworld'sgreatestreformer.
Hatsoff!
(Alluncovertheirheads.Womenwhispereagerly.)
AMILLIONAIRESS:(Richly)Isn'thesimplywonderful?
ANOBLEWOMAN:(Nobly)Allthatmanhasseen!
AFEMINIST:(Masculinely)Anddone!
ABELLHANGER:Aclassicface!Hehastheforeheadofathinker.
(Bloom'sweather.Asunburstappearsinthenorthwest.)
THE BISHOP OF DOWN AND CONNOR: I here present your undoubted emperor
presidentandkingchairman,themostsereneandpotentandverypuissantrulerofthisrealm.
GodsaveLeopoldtheFirst!
ALL:GodsaveLeopoldtheFirst!
BLOOM:(Indalmaticandpurplemantle,tothebishopofDownandConnor,withdignity)
Thanks,somewhateminentsir.
WILLIAM,ARCHBISHOPOFARMAGH:(In purple stock and shovel hat)Will you to
your power cause law and mercy to be executed in all your judgments in Ireland and

territoriesthereuntobelonging?
BLOOM:(Placinghisrighthandonhistesticles,swears)SomaytheCreatordealwithme.
AllthisIpromisetodo.
MICHAEL,ARCHBISHOPOFARMAGH:(PoursacruseofhairoiloverBloom'shead)
Gaudium magnum annuntio vobis. Habemus carneficem. Leopold, Patrick, Andrew, David,
George,bethouanointed!
(Bloomassumesamantleofclothofgoldandputsonarubyring.Heascendsandstands
on the stone of destiny. The representative peers put on at the same time their twentyeight
crowns. Joybells ring in Christ church, Saint Patrick's, George's and gay Malahide. Mirus
bazaarfireworksgoupfromallsideswithsymbolicalphallopyrotechnicdesigns.Thepeers
dohomage,onebyone,approachingandgenuflecting.)
THEPEERS:Idobecomeyourliegemanoflifeandlimbtoearthlyworship.
(Bloom holds up his right hand on which sparkles the KohiNoor diamond. His palfrey
neighs. Immediate silence. Wireless intercontinental and interplanetary transmitters are set
forreceptionofmessage.)
BLOOM: My subjects! We hereby nominate our faithful charger Copula Felix hereditary
Grand Vizier and announce that we have this day repudiated our former spouse and have
bestowedourroyalhandupontheprincessSelene,thesplendourofnight.
(The former morganatic spouse of Bloom is hastily removed in the Black Maria. The
princess Selene, in moonblue robes, a silver crescent on her head, descends from a Sedan
chair,bornebytwogiants.Anoutburstofcheering.)
JOHNHOWARDPARNELL:(Raisestheroyalstandard)IllustriousBloom!Successorto
myfamousbrother!
BLOOM:(Embraces John Howard Parnell) We thank you from our heart, John, for this
rightroyalwelcometogreenErin,thepromisedlandofourcommonancestors.
(The freedom of the city is presented to him embodied in a charter. The keys of Dublin,
crossedonacrimsoncushion,aregiventohim.Heshowsallthatheiswearinggreensocks.)
TOMKERNAN:Youdeserveit,yourhonour.
BLOOM:OnthisdaytwentyyearsagoweovercamethehereditaryenemyatLadysmith.
Our howitzers and camel swivel guns played on his lines with telling effect. Half a league
onward!Theycharge!Allislostnow!Doweyield?No!Wedrivethemheadlong!Lo!We
charge!DeployingtotheleftourlighthorsesweptacrosstheheightsofPlevnaand,uttering
theirwarcryBonafideSabaoth,sabredtheSaracengunnerstoaman.
THECHAPELOFFREEMANTYPESETTERS:Hear!Hear!
JOHNWYSENOLAN:There'sthemanthatgotawayJamesStephens.
ABLUECOATSCHOOLBOY:Bravo!
ANOLDRESIDENT:You'reacredittoyourcountry,sir,that'swhatyouare.
ANAPPLEWOMAN:He'samanlikeIrelandwants.
BLOOM:Mybelovedsubjects,aneweraisabouttodawn.I,Bloom,tellyouverilyitis
evennowathand.Yea,onthewordofaBloom,yeshallerelongenterintothegoldencity
whichistobe,thenewBloomusalemintheNovaHiberniaofthefuture.
(Thirtytwoworkmen,wearingrosettes,fromallthecountiesofIreland,undertheguidance
of Derwan the builder, construct the new Bloomusalem. It is a colossal edifice with crystal
roof,builtintheshapeofahugeporkkidney,containingfortythousandrooms.Inthecourse
of its extension several buildings and monuments are demolished. Government offices are
temporarily transferred to railway sheds. Numerous houses are razed to the ground. The
inhabitantsarelodgedinbarrelsandboxes,allmarkedinredwiththeletters:L.B.several
paupers fill from a ladder. A part of the walls of Dublin, crowded with loyal sightseers,
collapses.)
THESIGHTSEERS:(Dying)Morituritesalutant.(Theydie)

(Amaninabrownmacintoshspringsupthroughatrapdoor.Hepointsanelongatedfinger
atBloom.)
THEMANINTHEMACINTOSH:Don'tyoubelieveawordhesays.ThatmanisLeopold
M'Intosh,thenotoriousfireraiser.HisrealnameisHiggins.
BLOOM:Shoothim!Dogofachristian!SomuchforM'Intosh!
(Acannonshot.Themaninthemacintoshdisappears.Bloomwithhissceptrestrikesdown
poppies. The instantaneous deaths of many powerful enemies, graziers, members of
parliament, members of standing committees, are reported. Bloom's bodyguard distribute
Maundy money, commemoration medals, loaves and fishes, temperance badges, expensive
HenryClaycigars,freecowbonesforsoup,rubberpreservativesinsealedenvelopestiedwith
goldthread,butterscotch,pineapplerock,billetsdouxintheformofcockedhats,readymade
suits, porringers of toad in the hole, bottles of Jeyes' Fluid, purchase stamps, 40 days'
indulgences,spuriouscoins,dairyfedporksausages,theatrepasses,seasonticketsavailable
for all tramlines, coupons of the royal and privileged Hungarian lottery, penny dinner
counters,cheapreprintsoftheWorld'sTwelveWorstBooks:FroggyAndFritz(politic),Care
oftheBaby(infantilic),50Mealsfor7/6(culinic),WasJesusaSunMyth?(historic),Expel
thatPain(medic),Infant'sCompendiumoftheUniverse(cosmic),Let'sAllChortle(hilaric),
Canvasser'sVadeMecum(journalic),LovelettersofMotherAssistant(erotic),Who'sWhoin
Space (astric), Songs that Reached Our Heart (melodic), Pennywise's Way to Wealth
(parsimonic). A general rush and scramble. Women press forward to touch the hem of
Bloom's robe. The Lady Gwendolen Dubedat bursts through the throng, leaps on his horse
andkisseshimonbothcheeksamidgreatacclamation.Amagnesiumflashlightphotographis
taken.Babesandsucklingsareheldup.)
THEWOMEN:Littlefather!Littlefather!
THEBABESANDSUCKLINGS:
ClapclaphandstillPoldycomeshome,
CakesinhispocketforLeoalone.

(Bloom,bendingdown,pokesBabyBoardmangentlyinthestomach.)
BABYBOARDMAN:(Hiccups,curdledmilkflowingfromhismouth)Hajajaja.
BLOOM:(Shakinghandswithablindstripling)MymorethanBrother!(Placinghisarms
round the shoulders of an old couple) Dear old friends! (He plays pussy fourcorners with
ragged boys and girls) Peep! Bopeep! (He wheels twins in a perambulator) Ticktacktwo
wouldyousetashoe? (He performs juggler's tricks, draws red, orange, yellow, green, blue,
indigo and violet silk handkerchiefs from his mouth) Roygbiv. 32 feet per second. (He
consoles a widow) Absence makes the heart grow younger. (He dances the Highland fling
with grotesque antics) Leg it, ye devils! (He kisses the bedsores of a palsied veteran)
Honourablewounds!(Hetripsupafitpoliceman)U.p:up.U.p:up.(Hewhispersintheear
ofablushingwaitressandlaughskindly)Ah,naughty,naughty!(Heeatsarawturnipoffered
himbyMauriceButterly,farmer)Fine!Splendid!(Herefusestoacceptthreeshillingsoffered
himbyJosephHynes,journalist)Mydearfellow,notatall!(Hegiveshiscoattoabeggar)
Pleaseaccept.(Hetakespartinastomachracewithelderlymaleandfemalecripples)Come
on,boys!Wriggleit,girls!
THECITIZEN:(Choked withemotion, brushes asideatearinhisemeraldmuffler)May
thegoodGodblesshim!
(Therams'hornssoundforsilence.ThestandardofZionishoisted.)
BLOOM:(Uncloaksimpressively,revealingobesity,unrollsapaperandreads solemnly)
Aleph Beth Ghimel Daleth Hagadah Tephilim Kosher Yom Kippur Hanukah Roschaschana
BeniBrithBarMitzvahMazzothAskenazimMeshuggahTalith.
(AnofficialtranslationisreadbyJimmyHenry,assistanttownclerk.)
JIMMYHENRY:TheCourtofConscienceisnowopen.HisMostCatholicMajesty will

nowadministeropenairjustice.Freemedicalandlegaladvice,solutionofdoublesandother
problems. All cordially invited. Given at this our loyal city of Dublin in the year I of the
ParadisiacalEra.
PADDYLEONARD:WhatamItodoaboutmyratesandtaxes?
BLOOM:Paythem,myfriend.
PADDYLEONARD:Thankyou.
NOSEYFLYNN:CanIraiseamortgageonmyfireinsurance?
BLOOM:(Obdurately)Sirs,takenoticethatbythelawoftortsyouareboundoverinyour
ownrecognisancesforsixmonthsinthesumoffivepounds.
J.J.O'MOLLOY:ADanieldidIsay?Nay!APeterO'Brien!
NOSEYFLYNN:WheredoIdrawthefivepounds?
PISSERBURKE:Forbladdertrouble?
BLOOM:
Acid.nit.hydrochlor.dil.,20minims
Tinct.nuxvom.,5minims
Extr.taraxel.iiq.,30minims.
Aq.dis.terindie.

CHRISCALLINAN:WhatistheparallaxofthesubsolareclipticofAldebaran?
BLOOM:Pleasedtohearfromyou,Chris.K.II.
JOEHYNES:Whyaren'tyouinuniform?
BLOOM:WhenmyprogenitorofsaintedmemoryworetheuniformoftheAustriandespot
inadankprisonwherewasyours?
BENDOLLARD:Pansies?
BLOOM:Embellish(beautify)suburbangardens.
BENDOLLARD:Whentwinsarrive?
BLOOM:Father(pater,dad)startsthinking.
LARRY O'ROURKE: An eightday licence for my new premises. You remember me, sir
Leo,whenyouwereinnumberseven.I'msendingaroundadozenofstoutforthemissus.
BLOOM:(Coldly)Youhavetheadvantageofme.LadyBloomacceptsnopresents.
CROFTON:Thisisindeedafestivity.
BLOOM:(Solemnly)Youcallitafestivity.Icallitasacrament.
ALEXANDERKEYES:Whenwillwehaveourownhouseofkeys?
BLOOM:Istandforthereformofmunicipalmoralsandtheplaintencommandments.New
worldsforold.Unionofall,jew,moslemandgentile.Threeacresandacowforallchildren
of nature. Saloon motor hearses. Compulsory manual labour for all. All parks open to the
publicdayandnight.Electricdishscrubbers.Tuberculosis,lunacy,warandmendicancymust
nowcease.Generalamnesty,weeklycarnivalwithmaskedlicence,bonusesforall,esperanto
the universal language with universal brotherhood. No more patriotism of barspongers and
dropsicalimpostors.Freemoney,freerent,freeloveandafreelaychurchinafreelaystate.
O'MADDENBURKE:Freefoxinafreehenroost.
DAVYBYRNE:(Yawning)Iiiiiiiiiaaaaaaach!
BLOOM:Mixedracesandmixedmarriage.
LENEHAN:Whataboutmixedbathing?
(bloomexplainstothosenearhimhisschemesforsocialregeneration.Allagreewithhim.
ThekeeperoftheKildareStreetMuseumappears,draggingalorryonwhicharetheshaking
statues of several naked goddesses, Venus Callipyge, Venus Pandemos, Venus
Metempsychosis, and plaster figures, also naked, representing the new nine muses,
Commerce,OperaticMusic,Amor,Publicity,Manufacture,LibertyofSpeech,PluralVoting,

Gastronomy, Private Hygiene, Seaside Concert Entertainments, Painless Obstetrics and


AstronomyforthePeople.)
FATHER FARLEY: He is an episcopalian, an agnostic, an anythingarian seeking to
overthrowourholyfaith.
MRSRIORDAN:(Tearsupherwill)I'mdisappointedinyou!Youbadman!
MOTHER GROGAN: (Removes her boot to throw it at Bloom) You beast! You
abominableperson!
NOSEYFLYNN:Giveusatune,Bloom.Oneoftheoldsweetsongs.
BLOOM:(Withrollickinghumour)
IvowedthatIneverwouldleaveher,
Sheturnedoutacrueldeceiver.
Withmytooraloomtooraloomtooraloomtooraloom.

HOPPYHOLOHAN:GoodoldBloom!There'snobodylikehimafterall.
PADDYLEONARD:StageIrishman!
BLOOM: What railway opera is like a tramline in Gibraltar? The Rows of Casteele.
(Laughter.)
LENEHAN:Plagiarist!DownwithBloom!
THEVEILEDSIBYL:(Enthusiastically)I'maBloomiteandIgloryinit.Ibelieveinhim
inspiteofall.I'dgivemylifeforhim,thefunniestmanonearth.
BLOOM:(Winksatthebystanders)Ibetshe'sabonnylassie.
THEODORE PUREFOY: (In fishingcap and oilskin jacket) He employs a mechanical
devicetofrustratethesacredendsofnature.
THEVEILEDSIBYL:(Stabsherself)Myherogod!(She