(CLOSECLUTCHED SWIFT SWIFTER WITH GLAREBLAREFLARE SCUDDING THEY SCOOTLOOTSHOOT LUMBERING BY.  BARAABUM!)

TUTTI:  Encore!  Bis!  Bravo!  Encore!

Simon:  Think of your mother’s people!

Stephen:  Dance of death.

(Bang fresh Barang bang of LACQUEY’S bell, horse, nag, STEER, PIGLINGS,
Conmee on CHRISTASS, lame crutch and leg sailor in COCKBOAT ARMFOLDED
ROPEPULLING HITCHING stamp HORNPIPE through and through.  Baraabum!  On
nags hogs BELLHORSES GADARENE swine Corny in coffin steel Shark stone
onehandled Nelson two trickies FRAUENZIMMER PLUMSTAINED from PRAM filling
bawling gum he’s A champion.  FUSEBLUE peer from barrel rev.  EVENSONG love
on hackney JAUNT blazes blind CODDOUBLED BICYCLERS Dilly with SNOWCAKE no
fancy clothes.  Then in last SWITCHBACK LUMBERING up and down bump mashtub
sort of viceroy and Reine relish for TUBLUMBER BUMPSHIRE rose.  Baraabum!)

(The couples fall aside.  Stephen WHIRLS GIDDILY.  Room WHIRLS back.  Eyes
closed he TOTTERS.  Red rails fly SPACEWARDS.  STARS all around suns turn
ROUNDABOUT.  BRIGHT MIDGES dance on walls.  He stops dead.)

Stephen:  Ho!

(Stephen’s mother, emaciated, rises stark through the floor, in LEPER
grey with A wreath of faded orangeblossoms and A torn bridal veil, her
face worn and NOSELESS, green with GRAVEMOULD.  Her hair is scant and
lank.  She FIXES her bluecircled hollow EYESOCKETS on Stephen and OPENS
her toothless mouth uttering A silent word.  A choir of virgins and
confessors sing VOICELESSLY.)

The choir: 

    Liliata rutilantium te confessorum ... 
    Iubilantium te virginum …

(From the top of A tower buck Mulligan, in particoloured JESTER’S dress
of puce and yellow and clown’s cap with curling bell, stands gaping at
her, A smoking buttered split scone in his hand.)

Buck Mulligan:  She’s beastly dead.  The pity of it!  Mulligan meets the afflicted mother. (He UPTURNS his eyes) Mercurial Malachi!

The mother:  (With the subtle smile of death’s madness) I was once the beautiful May Goulding.  I am dead.

Stephen:  (HORRORSTRUCK) Lemur, who are you?  No.  What bogeyman’s trick is this?

Buck Mulligan:  (Shakes his curling CAPBELL) The mockery of it!  Kinch dogsbody killed her bitchbody.  She kicked the bucket. (Tears of molten butter fall from his eyes on to the scone) Our great sweet mother!  EPI OINOPA PONTON.

The mother:  (Comes nearer, breathing upon him softly her breath of wetted ashes) All must go through it, Stephen.  More women than men in the world.  You too.  Time will come.

Stephen:  (Choking with fright, remorse and horror) They say I killed you, mother.  He offended your memory.  Cancer did it, not I. Destiny.

The mother:  (A green RILL of bile trickling from A side of her mouth) You sang that song to me.  Love’s bitter mystery.

Stephen:  (EAGERLY) Tell me the word, mother, if you know now.  The word known to all men.

The mother:  Who saved you the night you jumped into the train at Dalkey with Paddy Lee?  Who had pity for you when you were sad among the strangers?  Prayer is allpowerful.  Prayer for the suffering souls in the Ursuline manual and forty days’ indulgence.  Repent, Stephen.

Stephen:  The ghoul!  Hyena!

The mother:  I pray for you in my other world.  Get Dilly to make you that boiled rice every night after your brainwork.  Years and years I loved you, O, my son, my firstborn, when you lay in my womb.

Zoe:  (Fanning herself with the grate fan) I’m melting!

Florry:  (POINTS to Stephen) Look!  He’s white.

Bloom:  (Goes to the window to open it more) Giddy.

The mother:  (With SMOULDERING eyes) Repent!  O, the fire of hell!

Stephen:  (PANTING) His noncorrosive sublimate!  The corpsechewer!  Raw head and bloody bones.

The mother:  (Her face drawing near and nearer, sending out an ASHEN
breath) Beware! (She RAISES her Blackened withered right arm slowly
towards Stephen’s breast with outstretched finger) Beware God’s hand! (A
green crab with malignant red eyes sticks deep its grinning claws in
Stephen’s heart.)

Stephen:  (STRANGLED with rage) Shite! (His features grow drawn grey and
old)

Bloom:  (At the window) What?

Stephen:  Ah non, par EXEMPLE!  The intellectual imagination!  With me all or not at all.  NON SERVIAM!

Florry:  Give him some cold water.  Wait. (She rushes out)

The mother:  (WRINGS her hands slowly, moaning DESPERATELY) O Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on him!  Save him from hell, O Divine Sacred Heart!

Stephen:  No!  No!  No!  Break my spirit, all of you, if you can!  I’ll bring you all to heel!

The mother:  (In the agony of her DEATHRATTLE) Have mercy on Stephen, Lord, for my sake!  Inexpressible was my anguish when expiring with love, grief and agony on Mount Calvary.

Stephen:  NOTHUNG!

(He lifts his ashplant high with both hands and SMASHES the chandelier.  TIME’S livid final flame LEAPS and, in the following darkness, ruin of all space, shattered glass and toppling masonry.)

The GASJET:  Pwfungg!

Bloom:  Stop!

Lynch:  (RUSHES forward and seizes Stephen’s hand) Here!  Hold on!  Don’t run amok!

Bella:  Police!

(Stephen, ABANDONING his ashplant, his head and arms thrown back stark,
beats the ground and flies from the room, past the whores at the door.)

Bella:  (Screams) After him!

(The two whores rush to the halldoor.  Lynch and Kitty and Zoe STAMPEDE
from the room.  They talk excitedly.  Bloom follows, returns.)

The whores:  (Jammed in the doorway, pointing) Down there.

Zoe:  (POINTING) There.  There’s something up.

Bella:  Who pays for the lamp? (She seizes Bloom’s COATTAIL) Here, you were with him.  The lamp’s broken.

Bloom:  (RUSHES to the hall, rushes back) What lamp, woman?

A whore:  He tore his coat.

Bella:  (Her eyes hard with anger and CUPIDITY, points) Who’s to pay for that?  Ten shillings.  You’re a witness.

Bloom:  (SNATCHES up Stephen’s ashplant) Me?  Ten shillings?  Haven’t you lifted enough off him?  Didn’t he …?

Bella:  (LOUDLY) Here, none of your tall talk.  This isn’t a brothel.  A ten shilling house.

Bloom:  (His head under the lamp, PULLS the chain.  PULING, the GASJET lights up A crushed mauve purple shade.  He RAISES the ashplant.) Only the chimney’s broken.  Here is all he …

Bella:  (SHRINKS back and Screams) Jesus!  Don’t!

Bloom:  (WARDING off A blow) To show you how he hit the paper.  There’s not sixpenceworth of damage done.  Ten shillings!

Florry:  (With A glass of water, enters) Where is he?

Bella:  Do you want me to call the police?

Bloom:  O, I know.  Bulldog on the premises.  But he’s a Trinity student.  Patrons of your establishment.  Gentlemen that pay the rent. (He makes A MASONIC sign) Know what I mean?  Nephew of the vice-chancellor.  You don’t want a scandal.

Bella:  (ANGRILY) Trinity.  Coming down here ragging after the boatraces and paying nothing.  Are you my commander here or?  Where is he?  I’ll charge him!  Disgrace him, I will! (She shouts) Zoe!  Zoe!

Bloom:  (URGENTLY) And if it were your own son in Oxford? (WARNINGLY) I know.

Bella:  (Almost SPEECHLESS) Who are.  Incog!

Zoe:  (In the doorway) There’s a row on.

Bloom:  What?  Where? (He THROWS A shilling on the table and starts) That’s for the chimney.  Where?  I need mountain air.

(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 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 peepO’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.