Episode 11: Sirens (Literary technique: Fuga per canonem (fugue or polyphony by rule: weaving of various voices and motifs in counterpoint to one another). Art: Music. Time: 38 40 pm. Place: Ormond Hotel


Movement 4: Outside Bella Cohen’s



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Movement 4: Outside Bella Cohen’s
Bloom finds Stephen involved in a confrontation with two British soldiers--Privates Carr and Compton--over a supposed insult to Cissy Caffrey. Bloom tries to defuse the situation, but the drunken Stephen refuses to be led off. An array of phantasms representing various nationalistic tendencies occur before Carr knocks Stephen down. Bloom prevents further violence, and, with the help of Corny Kelleher and two commercial travelers, manages to prevent Stephen’s arrest for public drunkenness.
Bloom manages to escape Bella Cohen’s:
(HE HURRIES OUT THROUGH THE HALL. THE WHORES POINT. FLORRY FOLLOWS,

SPILLING WATER FROM HER TILTED TUMBLER. ON THE DOORSTEP ALL THE WHORES

CLUSTERED TALK VOLUBLY, POINTING TO THE RIGHT WHERE THE FOG HAS CLEARED

OFF. FROM THE LEFT ARRIVES A JINGLING HACKNEY CAR. IT SLOWS TO IN FRONT

OF THE HOUSE. BLOOM AT THE HALLDOOR PERCEIVES CORNY KELLEHER WHO IS ABOUT

TO DISMOUNT FROM THE CAR WITH TWO SILENT LECHERS. HE AVERTS HIS FACE.

BELLA FROM WITHIN THE HALL URGES ON HER WHORES. THEY BLOW ICKYLICKYSTICKY

YUMYUM KISSES. CORNY KELLEHER REPLIES WITH A GHASTLY LEWD SMILE. THE

SILENT LECHERS TURN TO PAY THE JARVEY. ZOE AND KITTY STILL POINT RIGHT.

BLOOM, PARTING THEM SWIFTLY, DRAWS HIS CALIPH'S HOOD AND PONCHO AND

HURRIES DOWN THE STEPS WITH SIDEWAYS FACE. INCOG HAROUN AL RASCHID HE

FLITS BEHIND THE SILENT LECHERS AND HASTENS ON BY THE RAILINGS WITH FLEET

STEP OF A PARD STREWING THE DRAG BEHIND HIM, TORN ENVELOPES DRENCHED IN

ANISEED. THE ASHPLANT MARKS HIS STRIDE. A PACK OF BLOODHOUNDS, LED BY

HORNBLOWER OF TRINITY BRANDISHING A DOGWHIP IN TALLYHO CAP AND AN OLD

PAIR OF GREY TROUSERS, FOLLOW FROM FIR, PICKING UP THE SCENT, NEARER,

BAYING, PANTING, AT FAULT, BREAKING AWAY, THROWING THEIR TONGUES, BITING

HIS HEELS, LEAPING AT HIS TAIL. HE WALKS, RUNS, ZIGZAGS, GALLOPS, LUGS

LAID BACK. HE IS PELTED WITH GRAVEL, CABBAGESTUMPS, BISCUITBOXES, EGGS,

POTATOES, DEAD CODFISH, WOMAN'S SLIPPERSLAPPERS. AFTER HIM FRESHFOUND THE

HUE AND CRY ZIGZAG GALLOPS IN HOT PURSUIT OF FOLLOW MY LEADER: 65 C, 66

C, NIGHT WATCH, JOHN HENRY MENTON, WISDOM HELY, V. B. DILLON, COUNCILLOR

NANNETTI, ALEXANDER KEYES, LARRY O'ROURKE, JOE CUFFE MRS O'DOWD, PISSER

BURKE, THE NAMELESS ONE, MRS RIORDAN, THE CITIZEN, GARRYOWEN,

WHODOYOUCALLHIM, STRANGEFACE, FELLOWTHATSOLIKE, SAWHIMBEFORE,

CHAPWITHAWEN, CHRIS CALLINAN, SIR CHARLES CAMERON, BENJAMIN DOLLARD,

LENEHAN, BARTELL D'ARCY, JOE HYNES, RED MURRAY, EDITOR BRAYDEN, T. M.

HEALY, MR JUSTICE FITZGIBBON, JOHN HOWARD PARNELL, THE REVEREND TINNED

SALMON, PROFESSOR JOLY, MRS BREEN, DENIS BREEN, THEODORE PUREFOY, MINA

PUREFOY, THE WESTLAND ROW POSTMISTRESS, C. P. M'COY, FRIEND OF LYONS,

HOPPY HOLOHAN, MANINTHESTREET, OTHERMANINTHESTREET, FOOTBALLBOOTS,

PUGNOSED DRIVER, RICH PROTESTANT LADY, DAVY BYRNE, MRS ELLEN M'GUINNESS,

MRS JOE GALLAHER, GEORGE LIDWELL, JIMMY HENRY ON CORNS, SUPERINTENDENT

LARACY, FATHER COWLEY, CROFTON OUT OF THE COLLECTOR-GENERAL'S, DAN

DAWSON, DENTAL SURGEON BLOOM WITH TWEEZERS, MRS BOB DORAN, MRS KENNEFICK,

MRS WYSE NOLAN, JOHN WYSE NOLAN,

HANDSOMEMARRIEDWOMANRUBBEDAGAINSTWIDEBEHINDINCLONSKEATRAM, THE BOOKSELLER

OF Sweets Of Sin, MISS DUBEDATANDSHEDIDBEDAD, MESDAMES GERALD AND

STANISLAUS MORAN OF ROEBUCK, THE MANAGING CLERK OF DRIMMIE'S, WETHERUP,

COLONEL HAYES, MASTIANSKY, CITRON, PENROSE, AARON FIGATNER, MOSES HERZOG,

MICHAEL E GERAGHTY, INSPECTOR TROY, MRS GALBRAITH, THE CONSTABLE OFF

ECCLES STREET CORNER, OLD DOCTOR BRADY WITH STETHOSCOPE, THE MYSTERY MAN

ON THE BEACH, A RETRIEVER, MRS MIRIAM DANDRADE AND ALL HER LOVERS.)
THE HUE AND CRY: (HELTERSKELTERPELTERWELTER) He's Bloom! Stop Bloom!

Stopabloom! Stopperrobber! Hi! Hi! Stophim on the corner!
At the corner of Beaver St., Stephen tangles with the British soldiers.
(AT THE CORNER OF BEAVER STREET BENEATH THE SCAFFOLDING BLOOM PANTING

STOPS ON THE FRINGE OF THE NOISY QUARRELLING KNOT, A LOT NOT KNOWING A

JOT WHAT HI! HI! ROW AND WRANGLE ROUND THE WHOWHAT BRAWLALTOGETHER.)
STEPHEN: (WITH ELABORATE GESTURES, BREATHING DEEPLY AND SLOWLY) You are

my guests. Uninvited. By virtue of the fifth of George and seventh of

Edward. History to blame. Fabled by mothers of memory.
PRIVATE CARR: (TO CISSY CAFFREY) Was he insulting you?
STEPHEN: Addressed her in vocative feminine. Probably neuter. Ungenitive.
VOICES: No, he didn't. I seen him. The girl there. He was in Mrs Cohen's.

What's up? Soldier and civilian.
CISSY CAFFREY: I was in company with the soldiers and they left me to

do--you know, and the young man run up behind me. But I'm faithful to the

man that's treating me though I'm only a shilling whore.
STEPHEN: (CATCHES SIGHT OF LYNCH'S AND KITTY'S HEADS) Hail, Sisyphus. (HE

POINTS TO HIMSELF AND THE OTHERS) Poetic. Uropoetic.
VOICES: Shes faithfultheman.
CISSY CAFFREY: Yes, to go with him. And me with a soldier friend.
PRIVATE COMPTON: He doesn't half want a thick ear, the blighter. Biff him

one, Harry.
PRIVATE CARR: (TO CISSY) Was he insulting you while me and him was having

a piss?
LORD TENNYSON: (GENTLEMAN POET IN UNION JACK BLAZER AND CRICKET FLANNELS,

BAREHEADED, FLOWINGBEARDED) Theirs not to reason why.
PRIVATE COMPTON: Biff him, Harry.
STEPHEN: (TO PRIVATE COMPTON) I don't know your name but you are quite

right. Doctor Swift says one man in armour will beat ten men in their

shirts. Shirt is synechdoche. Part for the whole.
CISSY CAFFREY: (TO THE CROWD) No, I was with the privates.
STEPHEN: (AMIABLY) Why not? The bold soldier boy. In my opinion every

lady for example ...
PRIVATE CARR: (HIS CAP AWRY, ADVANCES TO STEPHEN) Say, how would it be,

governor, if I was to bash in your jaw?
STEPHEN: (LOOKS UP TO THE SKY) How? Very unpleasant. Noble art of

selfpretence. Personally, I detest action. (HE WAVES HIS HAND) Hand hurts

me slightly. ENFIN CE SONT VOS OIGNONS. (TO CISSY CAFFREY) Some trouble

is on here. What is it precisely?
DOLLY GRAY: (FROM HER BALCONY WAVES HER HANDKERCHIEF, GIVING THE SIGN OF

THE HEROINE OF JERICHO) Rahab. Cook's son, goodbye. Safe home to Dolly.

Dream of the girl you left behind and she will dream of you.
(THE SOLDIERS TURN THEIR SWIMMING EYES.)
BLOOM: (ELBOWING THROUGH THE CROWD, PLUCKS STEPHEN'S SLEEVE VIGOROUSLY)

Come now, professor, that carman is waiting.
STEPHEN: (TURNS) Eh? (HE DISENGAGES HIMSELF) Why should I not speak to

him or to any human being who walks upright upon this oblate orange? (HE

POINTS HIS FINGER) I'm not afraid of what I can talk to if I see his eye.

Retaining the perpendicular.
(HE STAGGERS A PACE BACK)
BLOOM: (PROPPING HIM) Retain your own.
STEPHEN: (LAUGHS EMPTILY) My centre of gravity is displaced. I have

forgotten the trick. Let us sit down somewhere and discuss. Struggle for

life is the law of existence but but human philirenists, notably the tsar

and the king of England, have invented arbitration. (HE TAPS HIS BROW)

But in here it is I must kill the priest and the king.
BIDDY THE CLAP: Did you hear what the professor said? He's a professor

out of the college.
CUNTY KATE: I did. I heard that.
BIDDY THE CLAP: He expresses himself with such marked refinement of

phraseology.
CUNTY KATE: Indeed, yes. And at the same time with such apposite

trenchancy.
PRIVATE CARR: (PULLS HIMSELF FREE AND COMES FORWARD) What's that you're

saying about my king?
(EDWARD THE SEVENTH APPEARS IN AN ARCHWAY. HE WARS A WHITE JERSEY ON

WHICH AN IMAGE OF THE SACRED HEART IS STITCHED WITH THE INSIGNIA OF

GARTER AND THISTLE, GOLDEN FLEECE, ELEPHANT OF DENMARK, SKINNER'S AND

PROBYN'S HORSE, LINCOLN'S INN BENCHER AND ANCIENT AND HONOURABLE

ARTILLERY COMPANY OF MASSACHUSETTS. HE SUCKS A RED JUJUBE. HE IS ROBED AS

A GRAND ELECT PERFECT AND SUBLIME MASON WITH TROWEL AND APRON, MARKED

made in Germany. IN HIS LEFT HAND HE HOLDS A PLASTERER'S BUCKET ON WHICH

IS PRINTED Defense d'uriner. A ROAR OF WELCOME GREETS HIM.)
EDWARD THE SEVENTH: (SLOWLY, SOLEMNLY BUT INDISTINCTLY) Peace, perfect

peace. For identification, bucket in my hand. Cheerio, boys. (HE TURNS TO

HIS SUBJECTS) We have come here to witness a clean straight fight and we

heartily wish both men the best of good luck. Mahak makar a bak.
(HE SHAKES HANDS WITH PRIVATE CARR, PRIVATE COMPTON, STEPHEN, BLOOM AND

LYNCH. GENERAL APPLAUSE. EDWARD THE SEVENTH LIFTS HIS BUCKET GRACIOUSLY

IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT.)
PRIVATE CARR: (TO STEPHEN) Say it again.
STEPHEN: (NERVOUS, FRIENDLY, PULLS HIMSELF UP) I understand your point of

view though I have no king myself for the moment. This is the age of

patent medicines. A discussion is difficult down here. But this is the

point. You die for your country. Suppose. (HE PLACES HIS ARM ON PRIVATE

CARR'S SLEEVE) Not that I wish it for you. But I say: Let my country die

for me. Up to the present it has done so. I didn't want it to die. Damn

death. Long live life!
EDWARD THE SEVENTH: (LEVITATES OVER HEAPS OF SLAIN, IN THE GARB AND WITH

THE HALO OF JOKING JESUS, A WHITE JUJUBE IN HIS PHOSPHORESCENT FACE)

My methods are new and are causing surprise.

To make the blind see I throw dust in their eyes.

STEPHEN: Kings and unicorns! (HE FILLS BACK A PACE) Come somewhere and

we'll ... What was that girl saying? ...
PRIVATE COMPTON: Eh, Harry, give him a kick in the knackers. Stick one

into Jerry.
BLOOM: (TO THE PRIVATES, SOFTLY) He doesn't know what he's saying. Taken

a little more than is good for him. Absinthe. Greeneyed monster. I know

him. He's a gentleman, a poet. It's all right.
STEPHEN: (NODS, SMILING AND LAUGHING) Gentleman, patriot, scholar and

judge of impostors.
PRIVATE CARR: I don't give a bugger who he is.
PRIVATE COMPTON: We don't give a bugger who he is.
STEPHEN: I seem to annoy them. Green rag to a bull.
(KEVIN EGAN OF PARIS IN BLACK SPANISH TASSELLED SHIRT AND PEEP-O'-DAY

BOY'S HAT SIGNS TO STEPHEN.)
KEVIN EGAN: H'lo! BONJOUR! The VIEILLE OGRESSE with the DENTS JAUNES.
(PATRICE EGAN PEEPS FROM BEHIND, HIS RABBITFACE NIBBLING A QUINCE LEAF.)
PATRICE: SOCIALISTE!
DON EMILE PATRIZIO FRANZ RUPERT POPE HENNESSY: (IN MEDIEVAL HAUBERK, TWO

WILD GEESE VOLANT ON HIS HELM, WITH NOBLE INDIGNATION POINTS A MAILED

HAND AGAINST THE PRIVATES) Werf those eykes to footboden, big grand

porcos of johnyellows todos covered of gravy!
BLOOM: (TO STEPHEN) Come home. You'll get into trouble.
STEPHEN: (SWAYING) I don't avoid it. He provokes my intelligence.
BIDDY THE CLAP: One immediately observes that he is of patrician lineage.
THE VIRAGO: Green above the red, says he. Wolfe Tone.
THE BAWD: The red's as good as the green. And better. Up the soldiers! Up

King Edward!
A ROUGH: (LAUGHS) Ay! Hands up to De Wet.
THE CITIZEN: (WITH A HUGE EMERALD MUFFLER AND SHILLELAGH, CALLS)

May the God above

Send down a dove

With teeth as sharp as razors

To slit the throats

Of the English dogs

That hanged our Irish leaders.

THE CROPPY BOY: (THE ROPENOOSE ROUND HIS NECK, GRIPES IN HIS ISSUING

BOWELS WITH BOTH HANDS)

I bear no hate to a living thing,

But I love my country beyond the king.

RUMBOLD, DEMON BARBER: (ACCOMPANIED BY TWO BLACKMASKED ASSISTANTS,

ADVANCES WITH GLADSTONE BAG WHICH HE OPENS) Ladies and gents, cleaver

purchased by Mrs Pearcy to slay Mogg. Knife with which Voisin dismembered

the wife of a compatriot and hid remains in a sheet in the cellar, the

unfortunate female's throat being cut from ear to ear. Phial containing

arsenic retrieved from body of Miss Barron which sent Seddon to the

gallows.
(HE JERKS THE ROPE. THE ASSISTANTS LEAP AT THE VICTIM'S LEGS AND DRAG HIM

DOWNWARD, GRUNTING THE CROPPY BOY'S TONGUE PROTRUDES VIOLENTLY.)
THE CROPPY BOY:

Horhot ho hray hor hother's hest.

(HE GIVES UP THE GHOST. A VIOLENT ERECTION OF THE HANGED SENDS GOUTS OF

SPERM SPOUTING THROUGH HIS DEATHCLOTHES ON TO THE COBBLESTONES. MRS

BELLINGHAM, MRS YELVERTON BARRY AND THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS

RUSH FORWARD WITH THEIR HANDKERCHIEFS TO SOP IT UP.)
RUMBOLD: I'm near it myself. (HE UNDOES THE NOOSE) Rope which hanged the

awful rebel. Ten shillings a time. As applied to Her Royal Highness. (HE

PLUNGES HIS HEAD INTO THE GAPING BELLY OF THE HANGED AND DRAWS OUT HIS

HEAD AGAIN CLOTTED WITH COILED AND SMOKING ENTRAILS) My painful duty has

now been done. God save the king!
EDWARD THE SEVENTH: (DANCES SLOWLY, SOLEMNLY, RATTLING HIS BUCKET, AND

SINGS WITH SOFT CONTENTMENT)

On coronation day, on coronation day,

O, won't we have a merry time,

Drinking whisky, beer and wine!
PRIVATE CARR: Here. What are you saying about my king?
STEPHEN: (THROWS UP HIS HANDS) O, this is too monotonous! Nothing. He

wants my money and my life, though want must be his master, for some

brutish empire of his. Money I haven't. (HE SEARCHES HIS POCKETS VAGUELY)

GAVE IT TO SOMEONE.
PRIVATE CARR: Who wants your bleeding money?
STEPHEN: (TRIES TO MOVE OFF) Will someone tell me where I am least likely

to meet these necessary evils? CA SE VOIT AUSSI A PARIS. Not that I ...

But, by Saint Patrick ...!
(THE WOMEN'S HEADS COALESCE. OLD GUMMY GRANNY IN SUGARLOAF HAT APPEARS

SEATED ON A TOADSTOOL, THE DEATHFLOWER OF THE POTATO BLIGHT ON HER

BREAST.)
STEPHEN: Aha! I know you, gammer! Hamlet, revenge! The old sow that eats

her farrow!
OLD GUMMY GRANNY: (ROCKING TO AND FRO) Ireland's sweetheart, the king of

Spain's daughter, alanna. Strangers in my house, bad manners to them!

(SHE KEENS WITH BANSHEE WOE) Ochone! Ochone! Silk of the kine! (SHE

WAILS) You met with poor old Ireland and how does she stand?
STEPHEN: How do I stand you? The hat trick! Where's the third person of

the Blessed Trinity? Soggarth Aroon? The reverend Carrion Crow.
CISSY CAFFREY: (SHRILL) Stop them from fighting!
A ROUGH: Our men retreated.
PRIVATE CARR: (TUGGING AT HIS BELT) I'll wring the neck of any fucker

says a word against my fucking king.
BLOOM: (TERRIFIED) He said nothing. Not a word. A pure misunderstanding.
THE CITIZEN: ERIN GO BRAGH!
Lynch abandons Stephen, called Judas by Stephen. Carr punches Stephen who falls to the ground. With the help of Corny Kelleher, who is known to the police, Bloom manages to secure Stephen. Trying to revive Stephen, Bloom has his final vision: of his dead son Rudy.
(MAJOR TWEEDY AND THE CITIZEN EXHIBIT TO EACH OTHER MEDALS, DECORATIONS,

TROPHIES OF WAR, WOUNDS. BOTH SALUTE WITH FIERCE HOSTILITY.)
PRIVATE COMPTON: Go it, Harry. Do him one in the eye. He's a proboer.
STEPHEN: Did I? When?
BLOOM: (TO THE REDCOATS) We fought for you in South Africa, Irish missile

troops. Isn't that history? Royal Dublin Fusiliers. Honoured by our

monarch.
THE NAVVY: (STAGGERING PAST) O, yes! O God, yes! O, make the kwawr a

krowawr! O! Bo!
(CASQUED HALBERDIERS IN ARMOUR THRUST FORWARD A PENTICE OF GUTTED

SPEARPOINTS. MAJOR TWEEDY, MOUSTACHED LIKE TURKO THE TERRIBLE, IN

BEARSKIN CAP WITH HACKLEPLUME AND ACCOUTREMENTS, WITH EPAULETTES, GILT

CHEVRONS AND SABRETACHES, HIS BREAST BRIGHT WITH MEDALS, TOES THE LINE.

HE GIVES THE PILGRIM WARRIOR'S SIGN OF THE KNIGHTS TEMPLARS.)
MAJOR TWEEDY: (GROWLS GRUFFLY) Rorke's Drift! Up, guards, and at them!

Mahar shalal hashbaz.
PRIVATE CARR: I'll do him in.
PRIVATE COMPTON: (WAVES THE CROWD BACK) Fair play, here. Make a bleeding

butcher's shop of the bugger.
(MASSED BANDS BLARE Garryowen AND God save the king.)
CISSY CAFFREY: They're going to fight. For me!
CUNTY KATE: The brave and the fair.
BIDDY THE CLAP: Methinks yon sable knight will joust it with the best.
CUNTY KATE: (BLUSHING DEEPLY) Nay, madam. The gules doublet and merry

saint George for me!
STEPHEN:

The harlot's cry from street to street

Shall weave Old Ireland's windingsheet.

PRIVATE CARR: (LOOSENING HIS BELT, SHOUTS) I'll wring the neck of any

fucking bastard says a word against my bleeding fucking king.
BLOOM: (SHAKES CISSY CAFFREY'S SHOULDERS) Speak, you! Are you struck

dumb? You are the link between nations and generations. Speak, woman,

sacred lifegiver!
CISSY CAFFREY: (ALARMED, SEIZES PRIVATE CARR'S SLEEVE) Amn't I with you?

Amn't I your girl? Cissy's your girl. (SHE CRIES) Police!
STEPHEN: (ECSTATICALLY, TO CISSY CAFFREY)

White thy fambles, red thy gan

And thy quarrons dainty is.

VOICES: Police!
DISTANT VOICES: Dublin's burning! Dublin's burning! On fire, on fire!
(BRIMSTONE FIRES SPRING UP. DENSE CLOUDS ROLL PAST. HEAVY GATLING GUNS

BOOM. PANDEMONIUM. TROOPS DEPLOY. GALLOP OF HOOFS. ARTILLERY. HOARSE

COMMANDS. BELLS CLANG. BACKERS SHOUT. DRUNKARDS BAWL. WHORES SCREECH.

FOGHORNS HOOT. CRIES OF VALOUR. SHRIEKS OF DYING. PIKES CLASH ON

CUIRASSES. THIEVES ROB THE SLAIN. BIRDS OF PREY, WINGING FROM THE SEA,

RISING FROM MARSHLANDS, SWOOPING FROM EYRIES, HOVER SCREAMING, GANNETS,

CORMORANTS, VULTURES, GOSHAWKS, CLIMBING WOODCOCKS, PEREGRINES, MERLINS,

BLACKGROUSE, SEA EAGLES, GULLS, ALBATROSSES, BARNACLE GEESE. THE MIDNIGHT

SUN IS DARKENED. THE EARTH TREMBLES. THE DEAD OF DUBLIN FROM PROSPECT AND

MOUNT JEROME IN WHITE SHEEPSKIN OVERCOATS AND BLACK GOATFELL CLOAKS ARISE

AND APPEAR TO MANY. A CHASM OPENS WITH A NOISELESS YAWN. TOM ROCHFORD,

WINNER, IN ATHLETE'S SINGLET AND BREECHES, ARRIVES AT THE HEAD OF THE

NATIONAL HURDLE HANDICAP AND LEAPS INTO THE VOID. HE IS FOLLOWED BY A

RACE OF RUNNERS AND LEAPERS. IN WILD ATTITUDES THEY SPRING FROM THE

BRINK. THEIR BODIES PLUNGE. FACTORY LASSES WITH FANCY CLOTHES TOSS REDHOT

YORKSHIRE BARAABOMBS. SOCIETY LADIES LIFT THEIR SKIRTS ABOVE THEIR HEADS

TO PROTECT THEMSELVES. LAUGHING WITCHES IN RED CUTTY SARKS RIDE THROUGH

THE AIR ON BROOMSTICKS. QUAKERLYSTER PLASTERS BLISTERS. IT RAINS DRAGONS'

TEETH. ARMED HEROES SPRING UP FROM FURROWS. THEY EXCHANGE IN AMITY THE

PASS OF KNIGHTS OF THE RED CROSS AND FIGHT DUELS WITH CAVALRY SABRES:

WOLFE TONE AGAINST HENRY GRATTAN, SMITH O'BRIEN AGAINST DANIEL O'CONNELL,

MICHAEL DAVITT AGAINST ISAAC BUTT, JUSTIN M'CARTHY AGAINST PARNELL,

ARTHUR GRIFFITH AGAINST JOHN REDMOND, JOHN O'LEARY AGAINST LEAR O'JOHNNY,

LORD EDWARD FITZGERALD AGAINST LORD GERALD FITZEDWARD, THE O'DONOGHUE OF

THE GLENS AGAINST THE GLENS OF THE O'DONOGHUE. ON AN EMINENCE, THE CENTRE

OF THE EARTH, RISES THE FELDALTAR OF SAINT BARBARA. BLACK CANDLES RISE

FROM ITS GOSPEL AND EPISTLE HORNS. FROM THE HIGH BARBACANS OF THE TOWER

TWO SHAFTS OF LIGHT FALL ON THE SMOKEPALLED ALTARSTONE. ON THE ALTARSTONE

MRS MINA PUREFOY, GODDESS OF UNREASON, LIES, NAKED, FETTERED, A CHALICE

RESTING ON HER SWOLLEN BELLY. FATHER MALACHI O'FLYNN IN A LACE PETTICOAT

AND REVERSED CHASUBLE, HIS TWO LEFT FEET BACK TO THE FRONT, CELEBRATES

CAMP MASS. THE REVEREND MR HUGH C HAINES LOVE M. A. IN A PLAIN CASSOCK

AND MORTARBOARD, HIS HEAD AND COLLAR BACK TO THE FRONT, HOLDS OVER THE

CELEBRANT'S HEAD AN OPEN UMBRELLA.)
FATHER MALACHI O'FLYNN: INTROIBO AD ALTARE DIABOLI.
THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE: To the devil which hath made glad my young

days.
FATHER MALACHI O'FLYNN: (TAKES FROM THE CHALICE AND ELEVATES A

BLOODDRIPPING HOST) CORPUS MEUM.
THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE: (RAISES HIGH BEHIND THE CELEBRANT'S

PETTICOAT, REVEALING HIS GREY BARE HAIRY BUTTOCKS BETWEEN WHICH A CARROT

IS STUCK) My body.
THE VOICE OF ALL THE DAMNED: Htengier Tnetopinmo Dog Drol eht rof,

Aiulella!
(FROM ON HIGH THE VOICE OF ADONAI CALLS.)
ADONAI: Dooooooooooog!
THE VOICE OF ALL THE BLESSED: Alleluia, for the Lord God Omnipotent

reigneth!
(FROM ON HIGH THE VOICE OF ADONAI CALLS.)
ADONAI: Goooooooooood!
(IN STRIDENT DISCORD PEASANTS AND TOWNSMEN OF ORANGE AND GREEN FACTIONS

SING Kick the Pope AND Daily, daily sing to Mary.)
PRIVATE CARR: (WITH FEROCIOUS ARTICULATION) I'll do him in, so help me

fucking Christ! I'll wring the bastard fucker's bleeding blasted fucking

windpipe!
OLD GUMMY GRANNY: (THRUSTS A DAGGER TOWARDS STEPHEN'S HAND) Remove him,

acushla. At 8.35 a.m. you will be in heaven and Ireland will be free.

(SHE PRAYS) O good God, take him!
(THE RETRIEVER, NOSING ON THE FRINGE OF THE CROWD, BARKS NOISILY.)
BLOOM: (RUNS TO LYNCH) Can't you get him away?
LYNCH: He likes dialectic, the universal language. Kitty! (TO BLOOM) Get

him away, you. He won't listen to me.
(HE DRAGS KITTY AWAY.)
STEPHEN: (POINTS) EXIT JUDAS. ET LAQUEO SE SUSPENDIT.
BLOOM: (RUNS TO STEPHEN) Come along with me now before worse happens.

Here's your stick.
STEPHEN: Stick, no. Reason. This feast of pure reason.
CISSY CAFFREY: (PULLING PRIVATE CARR) Come on, you're boosed. He insulted

me but I forgive him. (SHOUTING IN HIS EAR) I forgive him for insulting

me.
BLOOM: (OVER STEPHEN'S SHOULDER) Yes, go. You see he's incapable.
PRIVATE CARR: (BREAKS LOOSE) I'll insult him.
(HE RUSHES TOWARDS STEPHEN, FIST OUTSTRETCHED, AND STRIKES HIM IN THE

FACE. STEPHEN TOTTERS, COLLAPSES, FALLS, STUNNED. HE LIES PRONE, HIS FACE

TO THE SKY, HIS HAT ROLLING TO THE WALL. BLOOM FOLLOWS AND PICKS IT UP.)
MAJOR TWEEDY: (LOUDLY) Carbine in bucket! Cease fire! Salute!
THE RETRIEVER: (BARKING FURIOUSLY) Ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute.
THE CROWD: Let him up! Don't strike him when he's down! Air! Who? The

soldier hit him. He's a professor. Is he hurted? Don't manhandle him!

He's fainted!
A HAG: What call had the redcoat to strike the gentleman and he under the

influence. Let them go and fight the Boers!
THE BAWD: Listen to who's talking! Hasn't the soldier a right to go with

his girl? He gave him the coward's blow.
(THEY GRAB AT EACH OTHER'S HAIR, CLAW AT EACH OTHER AND SPIT)
THE RETRIEVER: (BARKING) Wow wow wow.
BLOOM: (SHOVES THEM BACK, LOUDLY) Get back, stand back!
PRIVATE COMPTON: (TUGGING HIS COMRADE) Here. Bugger off, Harry. Here's

the cops!
(TWO RAINCAPED WATCH, TALL, STAND IN THE GROUP.)
FIRST WATCH: What's wrong here?
PRIVATE COMPTON: We were with this lady. And he insulted us. And

assaulted my chum. (THE RETRIEVER BARKS) Who owns the bleeding tyke?
CISSY CAFFREY: (WITH EXPECTATION) Is he bleeding!
A MAN: (RISING FROM HIS KNEES) No. Gone off. He'll come to all right.
BLOOM: (GLANCES SHARPLY AT THE MAN) Leave him to me. I can easily ...
SECOND WATCH: Who are you? Do you know him?
PRIVATE CARR: (LURCHES TOWARDS THE WATCH) He insulted my lady friend.
BLOOM: (ANGRILY) You hit him without provocation. I'm a witness.

Constable, take his regimental number.
SECOND WATCH: I don't want your instructions in the discharge of my duty.
PRIVATE COMPTON: (PULLING HIS COMRADE) Here, bugger off Harry. Or

Bennett'll shove you in the lockup.
PRIVATE CARR: (STAGGERING AS HE IS PULLED AWAY) God fuck old Bennett.

He's a whitearsed bugger. I don't give a shit for him.
FIRST WATCH: (TAKES OUT HIS NOTEBOOK) What's his name?
BLOOM: (PEERING OVER THE CROWD) I just see a car there. If you give me a
hand a second, sergeant ...
FIRST WATCH: Name and address.
(CORNY KELLEKER, WEEPERS ROUND HIS HAT, A DEATH WREATH IN HIS HAND,

APPEARS AMONG THE BYSTANDERS.)
BLOOM: (QUICKLY) O, the very man! (HE WHISPERS) Simon Dedalus' son. A bit

sprung. Get those policemen to move those loafers back.
SECOND WATCH: Night, Mr Kelleher.
CORNY KELLEHER: (TO THE WATCH, WITH DRAWLING EYE) That's all right. I

know him. Won a bit on the races. Gold cup. Throwaway. (HE LAUGHS) Twenty

to one. Do you follow me?
FIRST WATCH: (TURNS TO THE CROWD) Here, what are you all gaping at? Move

on out of that.
(THE CROWD DISPERSES SLOWLY, MUTTERING, DOWN THE LANE.)
CORNY KELLEHER: Leave it to me, sergeant. That'll be all right. (HE

LAUGHS, SHAKING HIS HEAD) We were often as bad ourselves, ay or worse.

What? Eh, what?
FIRST WATCH: (LAUGHS) I suppose so.
CORNY KELLEHER: (NUDGES THE SECOND WATCH) Come and wipe your name off the

slate. (HE LILTS, WAGGING HIS HEAD) With my tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom

tooraloom. What, eh, do you follow me?
SECOND WATCH: (GENIALLY) Ah, sure we were too.
CORNY KELLEHER: (WINKING) Boys will be boys. I've a car round there.
SECOND WATCH: All right, Mr Kelleher. Good night.
CORNY KELLEHER: I'll see to that.
BLOOM: (SHAKES HANDS WITH BOTH OF THE WATCH IN TURN) Thank you very much,

gentlemen. Thank you. (HE MUMBLES CONFIDENTIALLY) We don't want any

scandal, you understand. Father is a wellknown highly respected citizen.

Just a little wild oats, you understand.
FIRST WATCH: O. I understand, sir.
SECOND WATCH: That's all right, sir.
FIRST WATCH: It was only in case of corporal injuries I'd have to report

it at the station.
BLOOM: (NODS RAPIDLY) Naturally. Quite right. Only your bounden duty.
SECOND WATCH: It's our duty.
CORNY KELLEHER: Good night, men.
THE WATCH: (SALUTING TOGETHER) Night, gentlemen. (THEY MOVE OFF WITH SLOW

HEAVY TREAD)
BLOOM: (BLOWS) Providential you came on the scene. You have a car? ...
CORNY KELLEHER: (LAUGHS, POINTING HIS THUMB OVER HIS RIGHT SHOULDER TO

THE CAR BROUGHT UP AGAINST THE SCAFFOLDING) Two commercials that were

standing fizz in Jammet's. Like princes, faith. One of them lost two quid

on the race. Drowning his grief. And were on for a go with the jolly

girls. So I landed them up on Behan's car and down to nighttown.
BLOOM: I was just going home by Gardiner street when I happened to ...
CORNY KELLEHER: (LAUGHS) Sure they wanted me to join in with the mots.

No, by God, says I. Not for old stagers like myself and yourself. (HE

LAUGHS AGAIN AND LEERS WITH LACKLUSTRE EYE) Thanks be to God we have it

in the house, what, eh, do you follow me? Hah, hah, hah!
BLOOM: (TRIES TO LAUGH) He, he, he! Yes. Matter of fact I was just

visiting an old friend of mine there, Virag, you don't know him (poor

fellow, he's laid up for the past week) and we had a liquor together and

I was just making my way home ...
(THE HORSE NEIGHS.)
THE HORSE: Hohohohohohoh! Hohohohome!
CORNY KELLEHER: Sure it was Behan our jarvey there that told me after we

left the two commercials in Mrs Cohen's and I told him to pull up and got

off to see. (HE LAUGHS) Sober hearsedrivers a speciality. Will I give him

a lift home? Where does he hang out? Somewhere in Cabra, what?
BLOOM: No, in Sandycove, I believe, from what he let drop.
(STEPHEN, PRONE, BREATHES TO THE STARS. CORNY KELLEHER, ASQUINT, DRAWLS

AT THE HORSE. BLOOM, IN GLOOM, LOOMS DOWN.)
CORNY KELLEHER: (SCRATCHES HIS NAPE) Sandycove! (HE BENDS DOWN AND CALLS

TO STEPHEN) Eh! (HE CALLS AGAIN) Eh! He's covered with shavings anyhow.

Take care they didn't lift anything off him.
BLOOM: No, no, no. I have his money and his hat here and stick.
CORNY KELLEHER: Ah, well, he'll get over it. No bones broken. Well, I'll

shove along. (HE LAUGHS) I've a rendezvous in the morning. Burying the

dead. Safe home!
THE HORSE: (NEIGHS) Hohohohohome.
BLOOM: Good night. I'll just wait and take him along in a few ...
(CORNY KELLEHER RETURNS TO THE OUTSIDE CAR AND MOUNTS IT. THE HORSE

HARNESS JINGLES.)
CORNY KELLEHER: (FROM THE CAR, STANDING) Night.
BLOOM: Night.
(THE JARVEY CHUCKS THE REINS AND RAISES HIS WHIP ENCOURAGINGLY. THE CAR

AND HORSE BACK SLOWLY, AWKWARDLY, AND TURN. CORNY KELLEHER ON THE

SIDESEAT SWAYS HIS HEAD TO AND FRO IN SIGN OF MIRTH AT BLOOM'S PLIGHT.

THE JARVEY JOINS IN THE MUTE PANTOMIMIC MERRIMENT NODDING FROM THE

FARTHER SEAT. BLOOM SHAKES HIS HEAD IN MUTE MIRTHFUL REPLY. WITH THUMB

AND PALM CORNY KELLEHER REASSURES THAT THE TWO BOBBIES WILL ALLOW THE

SLEEP TO CONTINUE FOR WHAT ELSE IS TO BE DONE. WITH A SLOW NOD BLOOM

CONVEYS HIS GRATITUDE AS THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT STEPHEN NEEDS. THE CAR

JINGLES TOORALOOM ROUND THE CORNER OF THE TOORALOOM LANE. CORNY KELLEHER

AGAIN REASSURALOOMS WITH HIS HAND. BLOOM WITH HIS HAND ASSURALOOMS CORNY

KELLEHER THAT HE IS REASSURALOOMTAY. THE TINKLING HOOFS AND JINGLING

HARNESS GROW FAINTER WITH THEIR TOORALOOLOO LOOLOO LAY. BLOOM, HOLDING IN

HIS HAND STEPHEN'S HAT, FESTOONED WITH SHAVINGS, AND ASHPLANT, STANDS

IRRESOLUTE. THEN HE BENDS TO HIM AND SHAKES HIM BY THE SHOULDER.)
BLOOM: Eh! Ho! (THERE IS NO ANSWER; HE BENDS AGAIN) Mr Dedalus! (THERE IS

NO ANSWER) The name if you call. Somnambulist. (HE BENDS AGAIN AND

HESITATING, BRINGS HIS MOUTH NEAR THE FACE OF THE PROSTRATE FORM)

Stephen! (THERE IS NO ANSWER. HE CALLS AGAIN.) Stephen!
STEPHEN: (GROANS) Who? Black panther. Vampire. (HE SIGHS AND STRETCHES

HIMSELF, THEN MURMURS THICKLY WITH PROLONGED VOWELS)

Who ... drive... Fergus now

And pierce ... wood's woven shade? ...
(HE TURNS ON HIS LEFT SIDE, SIGHING, DOUBLING HIMSELF TOGETHER.)
BLOOM: Poetry. Well educated. Pity. (HE BENDS AGAIN AND UNDOES THE

BUTTONS OF STEPHEN'S WAISTCOAT) To breathe. (HE BRUSHES THE WOODSHAVINGS

FROM STEPHEN'S CLOTHES WITH LIGHT HAND AND FINGERS) One pound seven. Not

hurt anyhow. (HE LISTENS) What?
STEPHEN: (MURMURS)
... shadows ... the woods

... white breast... dim sea.

(HE STRETCHES OUT HIS ARMS, SIGHS AGAIN AND CURLS HIS BODY. BLOOM,

HOLDING THE HAT AND ASHPLANT, STANDS ERECT. A DOG BARKS IN THE DISTANCE.

BLOOM TIGHTENS AND LOOSENS HIS GRIP ON THE ASHPLANT. HE LOOKS DOWN ON

STEPHEN'S FACE AND FORM.)
BLOOM: (COMMUNES WITH THE NIGHT) Face reminds me of his poor mother. In

the shady wood. The deep white breast. Ferguson, I think I caught. A

girl. Some girl. Best thing could happen him. (HE MURMURS) ... swear that

I will always hail, ever conceal, never reveal, any part or parts, art or

arts ... (HE MURMURS) ... in the rough sands of the sea ... a cabletow's

length from the shore ... where the tide ebbs ... and flows ...
(SILENT, THOUGHTFUL, ALERT HE STANDS ON GUARD, HIS FINGERS AT HIS LIPS IN

THE ATTITUDE OF SECRET MASTER. AGAINST THE DARK WALL A FIGURE APPEARS

SLOWLY, A FAIRY BOY OF ELEVEN, A CHANGELING, KIDNAPPED, DRESSED IN AN

ETON SUIT WITH GLASS SHOES AND A LITTLE BRONZE HELMET, HOLDING A BOOK IN

HIS HAND. HE READS FROM RIGHT TO LEFT INAUDIBLY, SMILING, KISSING THE

PAGE.)
BLOOM: (WONDERSTRUCK, CALLS INAUDIBLY) Rudy!
RUDY: (GAZES, UNSEEING, INTO BLOOM'S EYES AND GOES ON READING, KISSING,

SMILING. HE HAS A DELICATE MAUVE FACE. ON HIS SUIT HE HAS DIAMOND AND

RUBY BUTTONS. IN HIS FREE LEFT HAND HE HOLDS A SLIM IVORY CANE WITH A

VIOLET BOWKNOT. A WHITE LAMBKIN PEEPS OUT OF HIS WAISTCOAT POCKET.)


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