Fiction

Ulysses

James Joyce

Update Subscription Section 49 of 74 - Table of Contents
FIRST WATCH: The offence complained of? Did something happen?

MARY DRISCOLL: He surprised me in the rere of the premises, Your honour,
when the missus was out shopping one morning with a request for a safety
pin. He held me and I was discoloured in four places as a result. And he
interfered twict with my clothing.

BLOOM: She counterassaulted.

MARY DRISCOLL: (SCORNFULLY) I had more respect for the scouringbrush, so
I had. I remonstrated with him, Your lord, and he remarked: keep it
quiet.

(GENERAL LAUGHTER.)

GEORGE FOTTRELL: (CLERK OF THE CROWN AND PEACE, RESONANTLY) Order in
court! The accused will now make a bogus statement.

(BLOOM, PLEADING NOT GUILTY AND HOLDING A FULLBLOWN WATERLILY, BEGINS A
LONG UNINTELLIGIBLE SPEECH. THEY WOULD HEAR WHAT COUNSEL HAD TO SAY IN
HIS STIRRING ADDRESS TO THE GRAND JURY. HE WAS DOWN AND OUT BUT, THOUGH
BRANDED AS A BLACK SHEEP, IF HE MIGHT SAY SO, HE MEANT TO REFORM, TO
RETRIEVE THE MEMORY OF THE PAST IN A PURELY SISTERLY WAY AND RETURN TO
NATURE AS A PURELY DOMESTIC ANIMAL. A SEVENMONTHS' CHILD, HE HAD BEEN
CAREFULLY BROUGHT UP AND NURTURED BY AN AGED BEDRIDDEN PARENT. THERE
MIGHT HAVE BEEN LAPSES OF AN ERRING FATHER BUT HE WANTED 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 HEAVING BOSOM OF THE FAMILY. AN
ACCLIMATISED BRITISHER, HE HAD SEEN THAT SUMMER EVE FROM THE 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 URBAN DISTRICT OF SCENES TRULY RURAL OF
HAPPINESS OF THE BETTER LAND WITH DOCKRELL'S WALLPAPER AT ONE AND
NINEPENCE A DOZEN, INNOCENT BRITISHBORN BAIRNS LISPING PRAYERS TO THE
SACRED INFANT, 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 TWELVEFOLD BELLOWS, A SACRIFICE, GREATEST BARGAIN EVER...)

(RENEWED LAUGHTER. HE MUMBLES INCOHERENTLY. REPORTERS COMPLAIN THAT THEY
CANNOT HEAR.)

LONGHAND AND SHORTHAND: (WITHOUT LOOKING UP FROM THEIR NOTEBOOKS) Loosen
his boots.

PROFESSOR MACHUGH: (FROM THE PRESSTABLE, COUGHS AND CALLS) Cough it up,
man. Get it out in bits.

(THE CROSSEXAMINATION PROCEEDS RE BLOOM AND THE BUCKET. A LARGE BUCKET.
BLOOM HIMSELF. BOWEL TROUBLE. IN BEAVER STREET GRIPE, YES. QUITE BAD. A
PLASTERER'S BUCKET. BY WALKING STIFFLEGGED. SUFFERED UNTOLD MISERY.
DEADLY AGONY. ABOUT NOON. LOVE OR BURGUNDY. YES, SOME SPINACH. CRUCIAL
MOMENT. HE DID NOT LOOK IN THE BUCKET NOBODY. RATHER A MESS. NOT
COMPLETELY. A Titbits BACK NUMBER.)

(UPROAR AND CATCALLS. BLOOM IN A TORN FROCKCOAT STAINED WITH WHITEWASH,
DINGED SILK HAT SIDEWAYS ON HIS HEAD, A STRIP OF STICKINGPLASTER ACROSS
HIS NOSE, TALKS INAUDIBLY.)

J. J. O'MOLLOY: (IN BARRISTER'S GREY WIG AND STUFFGOWN, SPEAKING WITH A
VOICE OF PAINED PROTEST) This is no place for indecent levity at the
expense of an erring mortal disguised in liquor. We are not in a
beargarden nor at an Oxford rag nor is this a travesty of justice. 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 occurrence being
quite permitted in my client's native place, the land of the Pharaoh.
PRIMA FACIE, I put it to you that there was no attempt at carnally
knowing. Intimacy did not occur and the offence complained of by
Driscoll, that her virtue was solicited, was not repeated. I would deal
in especial with atavism. There have been cases of shipwreck and
somnambulism in my client's family. If the accused could speak he could a
tale unfold--one 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 irresponsible for his actions. Not all there, in fact.

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 SALUTES THE
COURT, POINTING ONE THUMB HEAVENWARD.) Him makee velly muchee fine night.
(HE BEGINS TO LILT SIMPLY)

    Li li poo lil chile
    Blingee pigfoot evly night
    Payee two shilly ...

(HE IS HOWLED DOWN.)

J. J. O'MOLLOY: (HOTLY TO THE POPULACE) This is a lonehand fight. By
Hades, I will not have any client of mine gagged and badgered in this
fashion by a pack of curs and laughing hyenas. The Mosaic code has
superseded the law of the jungle. I say it and I say it emphatically,
without wishing for one moment to defeat the ends of justice, accused was
not accessory before the act and prosecutrix has not been tampered with.
The young person was treated by defendant as if she were his very own
daughter. (BLOOM TAKES J. J. O'MOLLOY'S HAND AND RAISES IT TO HIS LIPS.)
I shall call rebutting evidence to prove up to the hilt that the hidden
hand is again at its old game. When in doubt persecute Bloom. My client,
an innately bashful man, would be the last man in the world to do
anything ungentlemanly which injured modesty could object to or cast a
stone at a girl who took the wrong turning when some dastard, responsible
for her condition, had worked his own sweet will on her. He wants to go
straight. 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 which will now be shown. (TO
BLOOM) I suggest that you will do the handsome thing.

BLOOM: A penny in the pound.

(THE IMAGE OF THE LAKE OF KINNERETH WITH BLURRED CATTLE CROPPING IN
SILVER HAZE IS PROJECTED ON THE WALL. MOSES DLUGACZ, FERRETEYED ALBINO,
IN BLUE DUNGAREES, STANDS UP IN THE GALLERY, HOLDING IN EACH HAND AN
ORANGE CITRON AND A PORK KIDNEY.)

DLUGACZ: (HOARSELY) Bleibtreustrasse, Berlin, W.13.

(J. J. O'MOLLOY STEPS ON TO A LOW PLINTH AND HOLDS THE LAPEL OF HIS COAT
WITH SOLEMNITY. HIS FACE LENGTHENS, GROWS PALE AND BEARDED, WITH SUNKEN
EYES, THE BLOTCHES OF PHTHISIS AND HECTIC CHEEKBONES OF JOHN F. TAYLOR.
HE APPLIES HIS HANDKERCHIEF TO HIS MOUTH AND SCRUTINISES THE GALLOPING
TIDE OF ROSEPINK BLOOD.)

J.J.O'MOLLOY: (ALMOST VOICELESSLY) Excuse me. I am suffering from a
severe chill, have recently come from a sickbed. A few wellchosen words.
(HE ASSUMES THE AVINE HEAD, FOXY MOUSTACHE AND PROBOSCIDAL ELOQUENCE OF
SEYMOUR BUSHE.) When the angel's book comes to be opened if aught that
the pensive bosom has inaugurated of soultransfigured and of
soultransfiguring deserves to live I say accord the prisoner at the bar
the sacred benefit of the doubt. (A PAPER WITH SOMETHING WRITTEN ON IT IS
HANDED INTO COURT.)

BLOOM: (IN COURT DRESS) Can give best references. Messrs Callan, Coleman.
Mr Wisdom Hely J. P. My old chief Joe Cuffe. Mr V. B. Dillon, ex lord
mayor of Dublin. I have moved in the charmed circle of the highest ...
Queens of Dublin society. (CARELESSLY) I was just chatting this afternoon
at the viceregal lodge to my old pals, sir Robert and lady Ball,
astronomer royal at the levee. Sir Bob, I said ...

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, signed James Lovebirch. He
said that he had seen from the gods my peerless globes as I sat in a box
of the THEATRE ROYAL at a command performance of LA CIGALE. I deeply
inflamed him, he said. He made improper overtures to me to misconduct
myself at half past four p.m. on the following Thursday, Dunsink time. He
offered to send me through the post a work of fiction by Monsieur Paul de
Kock, entitled THE GIRL WITH THE THREE PAIRS OF STAYS.

MRS BELLINGHAM: (IN CAP AND SEAL CONEY MANTLE, WRAPPED UP TO THE NOSE,
STEPS OUT OF HER BROUGHAM AND SCANS THROUGH TORTOISESHELL QUIZZING-
GLASSES WHICH SHE TAKES FROM INSIDE HER HUGE OPOSSUM MUFF) Also to me.
Yes, I believe it is the same objectionable person. Because he closed my
carriage door outside sir Thornley Stoker's one sleety day during the
cold snap of February ninetythree when even the grid of the wastepipe and
the ballstop in my 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 information that it
was ablossom of the homegrown potato plant purloined from a forcingcase
of the model farm.

MRS YELVERTON BARRY: Shame on him!

(A CROWD OF SLUTS AND RAGAMUFFINS SURGES FORWARD)

THE SLUTS AND RAGAMUFFINS: (SCREAMING) Stop thief! Hurrah there,
Bluebeard! Three cheers for Ikey Mo!

SECOND WATCH: (PRODUCES HANDCUFFS) Here are the darbies.

MRS BELLINGHAM: He addressed me in several handwritings with fulsome
compliments as a Venus in furs and alleged profound pity for my
frostbound coachman Palmer while in the same breath he expressed himself
as envious of his earflaps and fleecy sheepskins and of his fortunate
proximity to my person, when standing behind my chair wearing my livery
and the armorial bearings of the Bellingham escutcheon garnished sable, a
buck's head couped or. He lauded almost extravagantly my nether
extremities, my swelling calves in silk hose drawn up to the limit, and
eulogised glowingly my other hidden treasures in priceless lace which, he
said, he could conjure up. He urged me (stating that he felt it his
mission in life to urge me) to defile the marriage bed, to commit
adultery at the earliest possible opportunity.

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. Because he saw me on the polo ground of the
Phoenix park at the match All Ireland versus the Rest of Ireland. My
eyes, I know, shone divinely as I watched Captain Slogger Dennehy of the
Inniskillings 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. It represents a
partially nude senorita, frail and lovely (his wife, as he solemnly
assured me, taken by him from nature), practising illicit intercourse
with a muscular torero, evidently a blackguard. He urged me to do
likewise, to misbehave, to sin with officers of the garrison. He implored
me to soil his letter in an unspeakable manner, to chastise him as he
richly deserves, to bestride and ride him, to give him a most vicious
horsewhipping.

MRS BELLINGHAM: Me too.

MRS YELVERTON BARRY: Me too.

(SEVERAL HIGHLY RESPECTABLE DUBLIN LADIES HOLD UP IMPROPER LETTERS
RECEIVED FROM BLOOM.)

THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (STAMPS HER JINGLING SPURS IN A SUDDEN
PAROXYSM OF FURY) I will, by the God above me. I'll scourge the
pigeonlivered cur as long as I can stand over him. I'll flay him alive.

BLOOM: (HIS EYES CLOSING, QUAILS EXPECTANTLY) Here? (HE SQUIRMS) Again!
(HE PANTS CRINGING) I love the danger.

THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: Very much so! I'll make it hot for
you. I'll make you dance Jack Latten for that.

MRS BELLINGHAM: Tan his breech well, the upstart! Write the stars and
stripes on it!

MRS YELVERTON BARRY: Disgraceful! There's no excuse for him! A married
man!

BLOOM: All these people. I meant only the spanking idea. A warm tingling
glow without effusion. Refined birching to stimulate the circulation.

THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (LAUGHS DERISIVELY) O, did you, my
fine fellow? Well, by the living God, you'll get the surprise of your
life now, believe me, the most unmerciful hiding a man ever bargained
for. You have lashed the dormant tigress in my nature into fury.

MRS BELLINGHAM: (SHAKES HER MUFF AND QUIZZING-GLASSES VINDICTIVELY) Make
him smart, Hanna dear. Give him ginger. Thrash the mongrel within an inch
of his life. The cat-o'-nine-tails. Geld him. Vivisect him.

BLOOM: (SHUDDERING, SHRINKING, JOINS HIS HANDS: WITH HANGDOG MIEN) O
cold! O shivery! It was your ambrosial beauty. Forget, forgive. Kismet.
Let me off this once. (HE OFFERS THE OTHER CHEEK)

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

THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS: (UNBUTTONING HER GAUNTLET VIOLENTLY)
I'll do no such thing. Pigdog and always was ever since he was pupped! To
dare address me! I'll flog him black and blue in the public streets. I'll
dig my spurs in him up to the rowel. He is a wellknown cuckold. (SHE
SWISHES HER HUNTINGCROP SAVAGELY IN THE AIR) Take down his trousers
without loss of time. Come here, sir! Quick! Ready?

BLOOM: (TREMBLING, BEGINNING TO OBEY) The weather has been so warm.

(DAVY STEPHENS, RINGLETTED, PASSES WITH A BEVY OF BAREFOOT NEWSBOYS.)

DAVY STEPHENS: MESSENGER OF THE SACRED HEART and EVENING TELEGRAPH with
Saint Patrick's Day supplement. Containing the new addresses of all the
cuckolds in Dublin.

(THE VERY REVEREND CANON O'HANLON IN CLOTH OF GOLD COPE ELEVATES AND
EXPOSES A MARBLE TIMEPIECE. BEFORE HIM FATHER CONROY AND THE REVEREND
JOHN HUGHES S.J. BEND LOW.)

THE TIMEPIECE: (UNPORTALLING)


    Cuckoo.
    Cuckoo.
    Cuckoo.


(THE BRASS QUOITS OF A BED ARE HEARD TO JINGLE.)

THE QUOITS: 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, JOHN HENRY MENTON MYLES CRAWFORD,
LENEHAN, PADDY LEONARD, NOSEY FLYNN, M'COY AND THE FEATURELESS FACE OF A
NAMELESS ONE.)

THE NAMELESS ONE: Bareback riding. Weight for age. Gob, he organised her.

THE JURORS: (ALL THEIR HEADS TURNED TO HIS VOICE) Really?

THE NAMELESS ONE: (SNARLS) Arse over tip. Hundred shillings to five.

THE JURORS: (ALL THEIR HEADS LOWERED IN ASSENT) Most of us thought as
much.

FIRST WATCH: He is a marked man. Another girl's plait cut. Wanted: Jack
the Ripper. A thousand pounds reward.

SECOND WATCH: (AWED, WHISPERS) And in black. A mormon. 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 Dublin and whereas at this commission of
assizes the most honourable ...

(HIS HONOUR, SIR FREDERICK FALKINER, RECORDER OF DUBLIN, IN JUDICIAL GARB
OF GREY STONE RISES FROM THE BENCH, STONEBEARDED. HE BEARS IN HIS ARMS AN
UMBRELLA SCEPTRE. FROM HIS FOREHEAD ARISE STARKLY THE MOSAIC RAMSHORNS.)

THE RECORDER: I will put an end to this white slave traffic and rid
Dublin of this odious 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 pleasure and there be
hanged by the neck until he is dead and therein fail not at your peril or
may the Lord have mercy on your soul. Remove him. (A BLACK SKULLCAP
DESCENDS UPON HIS HEAD.)

(THE SUBSHERIFF LONG JOHN FANNING APPEARS, SMOKING A PUNGENT HENRY CLAY.)

LONG JOHN FANNING: (SCOWLS AND CALLS WITH RICH ROLLING UTTERANCE) Who'll
hang Judas Iscariot?

(H. RUMBOLD, MASTER BARBER, IN A BLOODCOLOURED JERKIN AND TANNER'S APRON,
A ROPE COILED OVER HIS SHOULDER, MOUNTS THE BLOCK. A LIFE PRESERVER AND A
NAILSTUDDED BLUDGEON ARE STUCK IN HIS BELT. HE RUBS GRIMLY HIS GRAPPLING
HANDS, KNOBBED WITH KNUCKLEDUSTERS.)

RUMBOLD: (TO THE RECORDER WITH SINISTER FAMILIARITY) Hanging Harry, your
Majesty, the Mersey terror. Five guineas a jugular. Neck or nothing.

(THE BELLS OF GEORGE'S CHURCH TOLL SLOWLY, LOUD DARK IRON.)

THE BELLS: 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. If you want
a little more ...

HYNES: (COLDLY) You are a perfect stranger.

SECOND WATCH: (POINTS TO THE CORNER) The bomb is here.

FIRST WATCH: Infernal machine with a time fuse.

BLOOM: No, no. Pig's feet. I was at a funeral.

FIRST WATCH: (DRAWS HIS TRUNCHEON) Liar!

(THE BEAGLE LIFTS HIS SNOUT, SHOWING THE GREY SCORBUTIC FACE OF PADDY
DIGNAM. HE HAS GNAWED ALL. HE EXHALES A PUTRID CARCASEFED BREATH. HE
GROWS TO HUMAN SIZE AND SHAPE. HIS DACHSHUND COAT BECOMES A BROWN
MORTUARY HABIT. HIS GREEN EYE FLASHES BLOODSHOT. HALF OF ONE EAR, ALL THE
NOSE AND BOTH THUMBS ARE GHOULEATEN.)

PADDY DIGNAM: (IN A HOLLOW VOICE) It is true. It was my funeral. Doctor
Finucane pronounced life extinct when I succumbed to the disease from
natural causes.

(HE LIFTS HIS MUTILATED ASHEN FACE MOONWARDS AND BAYS LUGUBRIOUSLY.)

BLOOM: (IN TRIUMPH) You hear?

PADDY DIGNAM: Bloom, I am Paddy Dignam's spirit. List, list, O list!

BLOOM: The voice is the voice of Esau.

SECOND WATCH: (BLESSES HIMSELF) How is that possible?

FIRST WATCH: It is not in the penny catechism.

PADDY DIGNAM: By metempsychosis. Spooks.

A VOICE: O rocks.

PADDY DIGNAM: (EARNESTLY) Once I was in the employ of Mr J. H. Menton,
solicitor, commissioner for oaths and affidavits, of 27 Bachelor's Walk.
Now I am defunct, the wall of the heart hypertrophied. Hard lines. The
poor wife was awfully cut up. How is she bearing it? Keep her off that
bottle of sherry. (HE LOOKS ROUND HIM) A lamp. I must satisfy an animal
need. That buttermilk didn't agree with me.

(THE PORTLY FIGURE OF JOHN O'CONNELL, CARETAKER, STANDS FORTH, HOLDING A
BUNCH OF KEYS TIED WITH CRAPE. BESIDE HIM STANDS FATHER COFFEY, CHAPLAIN,
TOADBELLIED, WRYNECKED, IN A SURPLICE AND BANDANNA NIGHTCAP, HOLDING
SLEEPILY A STAFF TWISTED POPPIES.)

FATHER COFFEY: (YAWNS, THEN CHANTS WITH A HOARSE CROAK) Namine. Jacobs.
Vobiscuits. Amen.

JOHN O'CONNELL: (FOGHORNS STORMILY THROUGH HIS MEGAPHONE) Dignam, Patrick
T, deceased.

PADDY DIGNAM: (WITH PRICKED UP EARS, WINCES) Overtones. (HE WRIGGLES
FORWARD AND PLACES AN EAR TO THE GROUND) My master's voice!

JOHN O'CONNELL: Burial docket letter number U. P. eightyfive thousand.
Field seventeen. House of Keys. Plot, one hundred and one.

(PADDY DIGNAM LISTENS WITH VISIBLE EFFORT, THINKING, HIS TAIL
STIFFPOINTCD, HIS EARS COCKED.)

PADDY DIGNAM: Pray for the repose of his soul.

(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'S VOICE, MUFFLED, IS
HEARD BAYING UNDER GROUND: Dignam's dead and gone below. TOM ROCHFORD,
ROBINREDBREASTED, IN CAP AND BREECHES, JUMPS FROM HIS TWOCOLUMNED
MACHINE.)

TOM ROCHFORD: (A HAND TO HIS BREASTBONE, BOWS) Reuben J. A florin I find
him. (HE FIXES THE MANHOLE WITH A RESOLUTE STARE) My turn now on. Follow
me up to Carlow.

(HE EXECUTES A DAREDEVIL SALMON LEAP IN THE AIR AND IS ENGULFED IN THE
COALHOLE. TWO DISCS ON THE COLUMNS WOBBLE, EYES OF NOUGHT. ALL RECEDES.
BLOOM PLODGES FORWARD AGAIN THROUGH THE SUMP. KISSES CHIRP AMID THE RIFTS
OF FOG A PIANO SOUNDS. HE STANDS BEFORE A LIGHTED HOUSE, LISTENING. THE
KISSES, WINGING FROM THEIR BOWERS FLY ABOUT HIM, TWITTERING, WARBLING,
COOING.)

THE KISSES: (WARBLING) Leo! (TWITTERING) Icky licky micky sticky for Leo!
(COOING) Coo coocoo! Yummyyum, Womwom! (WARBLING) Big comebig! Pirouette!
Leopopold! (TWITTERING) Leeolee! (WARBLING) O Leo!

(THEY RUSTLE, FLUTTER UPON HIS GARMENTS, ALIGHT, BRIGHT GIDDY FLECKS,
SILVERY SEQUINS.)

BLOOM: A man's touch. Sad music. Church music. Perhaps here.

(ZOE HIGGINS, A YOUNG WHORE IN A SAPPHIRE SLIP, CLOSED WITH THREE BRONZE
BUCKLES, A SLIM BLACK VELVET FILLET ROUND HER THROAT, NODS, TRIPS DOWN
THE STEPS AND ACCOSTS HIM.)

ZOE: Are you looking for someone? He's inside with his friend.
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The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan
W.S. Gilbert

Category: Plays
Sections: 50   What's this?
Table of Contents


Non Fiction
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