Section 51 of 74 - Table of Contents
(MOTHER GROGAN THROWS HER BOOT AT BLOOM. SEVERAL SHOPKEEPERS FROM UPPER
AND LOWER DORSET STREET THROW OBJECTS OF LITTLE OR NO COMMERCIAL VALUE,
HAMBONES, CONDENSED MILK TINS, UNSALEABLE CABBAGE, STALE BREAD, SHEEP'S
TAILS, ODD PIECES OF FAT.)
BLOOM: (EXCITEDLY) This is midsummer madness, some ghastly joke again. By
heaven, I am guiltless as the unsunned snow! It was my brother Henry. He
is my double. He lives in number 2 Dolphin's Barn. Slander, the viper,
has wrongfully accused me. Fellowcountrymen, SGENL INN BAN BATA COISDE
GAN CAPALL. I call on my old friend, Dr Malachi Mulligan, sex specialist,
to give medical testimony on my behalf.
DR MULLIGAN: (IN MOTOR JERKIN, GREEN MOTORGOGGLES ON HIS BROW) Dr Bloom
is bisexually abnormal. He has recently escaped from Dr Eustace's private
asylum for demented gentlemen. Born out of bedlock hereditary epilepsy is
present, the consequence of unbridled lust. Traces of elephantiasis have
been discovered among his ascendants. There are marked symptoms of
chronic exhibitionism. Ambidexterity is also latent. He is prematurely
bald from selfabuse, perversely idealistic in consequence, a reformed
rake, and has metal teeth. In consequence of a family complex he has
temporarily lost his memory and I believe him to be more sinned against
than sinning. I have made a pervaginal examination and, after application
of the acid test to 5427 anal, axillary, pectoral and pubic hairs, I
declare him to be VIRGO INTACTA.
(BLOOM HOLDS HIS HIGH GRADE HAT OVER HIS GENITAL ORGANS.)
DR MADDEN: Hypsospadia is also marked. In the interest of coming
generations I suggest that the parts affected should be preserved in
spirits of wine in the national teratological museum.
DR CROTTHERS: I have examined the patient's urine. It is albuminoid.
Salivation is insufficient, the patellar reflex intermittent.
DR PUNCH COSTELLO: The FETOR JUDAICUS is most perceptible.
DR DIXON: (READS A BILL OF HEALTH) Professor Bloom is a finished example
of the new womanly man. His moral nature is simple and lovable. Many have
found him a dear man, a dear person. He is a rather quaint fellow on the
whole, coy though not feebleminded in the medical sense. He has written a
really beautiful letter, a poem in itself, to the court missionary of the
Reformed Priests' Protection Society which clears up everything. He is
practically a total abstainer and I can affirm that he sleeps on a straw
litter and eats the most Spartan food, cold dried grocer's peas. He wears
a hairshirt of pure Irish manufacture winter and summer and scourges
himself every Saturday. He was, I understand, at one time a firstclass
misdemeanant in Glencree reformatory. Another report states that he was a
very posthumous child. I appeal for clemency in the name of the most
sacred word our vocal organs have ever been called upon to speak. He is
about to have a baby.
(GENERAL COMMOTION AND COMPASSION. WOMEN FAINT. A WEALTHY AMERICAN MAKES
A STREET COLLECTION FOR BLOOM. GOLD AND SILVER COINS, BLANK CHEQUES,
BANKNOTES, JEWELS, TREASURY BONDS, MATURING BILLS OF EXCHANGE, I. O. U'S,
WEDDING RINGS, WATCHCHAINS, LOCKETS, NECKLACES AND BRACELETS ARE RAPIDLY
COLLECTED.)
BLOOM: O, I so want to be a mother.
MRS THORNTON: (IN NURSETENDER'S GOWN) Embrace me tight, dear. You'll be
soon over it. Tight, dear.
(BLOOM EMBRACES HER TIGHTLY AND BEARS EIGHT MALE YELLOW AND WHITE
CHILDREN. THEY APPEAR ON A REDCARPETED STAIRCASE ADORNED WITH EXPENSIVE
PLANTS. ALL THE OCTUPLETS ARE HANDSOME, WITH VALUABLE METALLIC FACES,
WELLMADE, RESPECTABLY DRESSED AND WELLCONDUCTED, SPEAKING FIVE MODERN
LANGUAGES FLUENTLY AND INTERESTED IN VARIOUS ARTS AND SCIENCES. EACH HAS
HIS NAME PRINTED IN LEGIBLE LETTERS ON HIS SHIRTFRONT: NASODORO,
GOLDFINGER, CHRYSOSTOMOS, MAINDOREE, SILVERSMILE, SILBERSELBER,
VIFARGENT, PANARGYROS. THEY ARE IMMEDIATELY APPOINTED TO POSITIONS OF
HIGH PUBLIC TRUST IN SEVERAL DIFFERENT COUNTRIES AS MANAGING DIRECTORS OF
BANKS, TRAFFIC MANAGERS OF RAILWAYS, CHAIRMEN OF LIMITED LIABILITY
COMPANIES, VICECHAIRMEN OF HOTEL SYNDICATES.)
A VOICE: Bloom, are you the Messiah ben Joseph or ben David?
BLOOM: (DARKLY) You have said it.
BROTHER BUZZ: Then perform a miracle like Father Charles.
BANTAM LYONS: Prophesy who will win the Saint Leger.
(BLOOM WALKS ON A NET, COVERS HIS LEFT EYE WITH HIS LEFT EAR, PASSES
THROUGH SEVERAL WALLS, CLIMBS NELSON'S PILLAR, HANGS FROM THE TOP LEDGE
BY HIS EYELIDS, EATS TWELVE DOZEN OYSTERS (SHELLS INCLUDED), HEALS
SEVERAL SUFFERERS FROM KING'S EVIL, CONTRACTS HIS FACE SO AS TO RESEMBLE
MANY HISTORICAL PERSONAGES, LORD BEACONSFIELD, LORD BYRON, WAT TYLER,
MOSES OF EGYPT, MOSES MAIMONIDES, MOSES MENDELSSOHN, HENRY IRVING, RIP
VAN WINKLE, KOSSUTH, JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU, BARON LEOPOLD ROTHSCHILD,
ROBINSON CRUSOE, SHERLOCK HOLMES, PASTEUR, TURNS EACH FOOT SIMULTANEOUSLY
IN DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS, BIDS THE TIDE TURN BACK, ECLIPSES THE SUN BY
EXTENDING HIS LITTLE FINGER.)
BRINI, PAPAL NUNCIO: (IN PAPAL ZOUAVE'S UNIFORM, STEEL CUIRASSES AS
BREASTPLATE, ARMPLATES, THIGHPLATES, LEGPLATES, LARGE PROFANE MOUSTACHES
AND BROWN PAPER MITRE) LEOPOLDI AUTEM GENERATIO. Moses begat Noah and
Noah begat Eunuch and Eunuch begat O'Halloran and O'Halloran begat
Guggenheim and Guggenheim begat Agendath and Agendath begat Netaim and
Netaim begat Le Hirsch and Le Hirsch begat Jesurum and Jesurum begat
MacKay and MacKay begat Ostrolopsky and Ostrolopsky begat Smerdoz and
Smerdoz begat Weiss and Weiss begat Schwarz and Schwarz begat Adrianopoli
and Adrianopoli begat Aranjuez and Aranjuez begat Lewy Lawson and Lewy
Lawson begat Ichabudonosor and Ichabudonosor begat O'Donnell Magnus and
O'Donnell Magnus begat Christbaum and Christbaum begat ben Maimun and ben
Maimun begat Dusty Rhodes and Dusty Rhodes begat Benamor and Benamor
begat Jones-Smith and Jones-Smith begat Savorgnanovich and Savorgnanovich
begat Jasperstone and Jasperstone begat Vingtetunieme and Vingtetunieme
begat Szombathely and Szombathely begat Virag and Virag begat Bloom ET
VOCABITUR NOMEN EIUS EMMANUEL.
A DEADHAND: (WRITES ON THE WALL) Bloom is a cod.
CRAB: (IN BUSHRANGER'S KIT) What did you do in the cattlecreep behind
Kilbarrack?
A FEMALE INFANT: (SHAKES A RATTLE) And under Ballybough bridge?
A HOLLYBUSH: And in the devil's glen?
BLOOM: (BLUSHES FURIOUSLY ALL OVER FROM FRONS TO NATES, THREE TEARS
FILLING FROM HIS LEFT EYE) Spare my past.
THE IRISH EVICTED TENANTS: (IN BODYCOATS, KNEEBREECHES, WITH DONNYBROOK
FAIR SHILLELAGHS) Sjambok him!
(BLOOM WITH ASSES' EARS SEATS HIMSELF IN THE PILLORY WITH CROSSED ARMS,
HIS FEET PROTRUDING. HE WHISTLES Don Giovanni, a cenar teco. ARTANE
ORPHANS, JOINING HANDS, CAPER ROUND HIM. GIRLS OF THE PRISON GATE
MISSION, JOINING HANDS, CAPER ROUND IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION.)
THE ARTANE ORPHANS:
You hig, you hog, you dirty dog!
You think the ladies love you!
THE PRISON GATE GIRLS:
If you see Kay
Tell him he may
See you in tea
Tell him from me.
HORNBLOWER: (IN EPHOD AND HUNTINGCAP, ANNOUNCES) And he shall carry the
sins of the people to Azazel, the spirit which is in the wilderness, and
to Lilith, the nighthag. And they shall stone him and defile him, yea,
all from Agendath Netaim and from Mizraim, the land of Ham.
(ALL THE PEOPLE CAST SOFT PANTOMIME STONES AT BLOOM. MANY BONAFIDE
TRAVELLERS AND OWNERLESS DOGS COME NEAR HIM AND DEFILE HIM. MASTIANSKY
AND CITRON APPROACH IN GABERDINES, WEARING LONG EARLOCKS. THEY WAG THEIR
BEARDS AT BLOOM.)
MASTIANSKY AND CITRON: Belial! Laemlein of Istria, the false Messiah!
Abulafia! Recant!
(GEORGE R MESIAS, BLOOM'S TAILOR, APPEARS, A TAILOR'S GOOSE UNDER HIS
ARM, PRESENTING A BILL)
MESIAS: To alteration one pair trousers eleven shillings.
BLOOM: (RUBS HIS HANDS CHEERFULLY) Just like old times. Poor Bloom!
(REUBEN J DODD, BLACKBEARDED ISCARIOT, BAD SHEPHERD, BEARING ON HIS
SHOULDERS THE DROWNED CORPSE OF HIS SON, APPROACHES THE PILLORY.)
REUBEN J: (WHISPERS HOARSELY) The squeak is out. A split is gone for the
flatties. Nip the first rattler.
THE FIRE BRIGADE: Pflaap!
BROTHER BUZZ: (INVESTS BLOOM IN A YELLOW HABIT WITH EMBROIDERY OF PAINTED
FLAMES AND HIGH POINTED HAT. HE PLACES A BAG OF GUNPOWDER ROUND HIS NECK
AND HANDS HIM OVER TO THE CIVIL POWER, SAYING) Forgive him his
trespasses.
(LIEUTENANT MYERS OF THE DUBLIN FIRE BRIGADE BY GENERAL REQUEST SETS FIRE
TO BLOOM. LAMENTATIONS.)
THE CITIZEN: Thank heaven!
BLOOM: (IN A SEAMLESS GARMENT MARKED I. H. S. STANDS UPRIGHT AMID PHOENIX
FLAMES) Weep not for me, O daughters of Erin.
(HE EXHIBITS TO DUBLIN REPORTERS TRACES OF BURNING. THE DAUGHTERS OF
ERIN, IN BLACK GARMENTS, WITH LARGE PRAYERBOOKS AND LONG LIGHTED CANDLES
IN THEIR HANDS, KNEEL DOWN AND PRAY.)
THE DAUGHTERS OF ERIN:
Kidney of Bloom, pray for us
Flower of the Bath, pray for us
Mentor of Menton, pray for us
Canvasser for the Freeman, pray for us
Charitable Mason, pray for us
Wandering Soap, pray for us
Sweets of Sin, pray for us
Music without Words, pray for us
Reprover of the Citizen, pray for us
Friend of all Frillies, pray for us
Midwife Most Merciful, pray for us
Potato Preservative against Plague and Pestilence, pray for us.
(A CHOIR OF SIX HUNDRED VOICES, CONDUCTED BY VINCENT O'BRIEN, SINGS THE
CHORUS FROM HANDEL'S MESSIAH ALLELUIA FOR THE LORD GOD OMNIPOTENT
REIGNETH, ACCOMPANIED ON THE ORGAN BY JOSEPH GLYNN. BLOOM BECOMES MUTE,
SHRUNKEN, CARBONISED.)
ZOE: Talk away till you're black in the face.
BLOOM: (IN CAUBEEN WITH CLAY PIPE STUCK IN THE BAND, DUSTY BROGUES, AN
EMIGRANT'S RED HANDKERCHIEF BUNDLE IN HIS HAND, LEADING A BLACK BOGOAK
PIG BY A SUGAUN, WITH A SMILE IN HIS EYE) Let me be going now, woman of
the house, for by all the goats in Connemara I'm after having the father
and mother of a bating. (WITH A TEAR IN HIS EYE) All insanity.
Patriotism, sorrow for the dead, music, future of the race. To be or not
to be. Life's dream is o'er. End it peacefully. They can live on. (HE
GAZES FAR AWAY MOURNFULLY) I am ruined. A few pastilles of aconite. The
blinds drawn. A letter. Then lie back to rest. (HE BREATHES SOFTLY) No
more. I have lived. Fare. Farewell.
ZOE: (STIFFLY, HER FINGER IN HER NECKFILLET) Honest? Till the next time.
(SHE SNEERS) Suppose you got up the wrong side of the bed or came too
quick with your best girl. O, I can read your thoughts!
BLOOM: (BITTERLY) Man and woman, love, what is it? A cork and bottle. I'm
sick of it. Let everything rip.
ZOE: (IN SUDDEN SULKS) I hate a rotter that's insincere. Give a bleeding
whore a chance.
BLOOM: (REPENTANTLY) I am very disagreeable. You are a necessary evil.
Where are you from? London?
ZOE: (GLIBLY) Hog's Norton where the pigs plays the organs. I'm Yorkshire
born. (SHE HOLDS HIS HAND WHICH IS FEELING FOR HER NIPPLE) I say, Tommy
Tittlemouse. Stop that and begin worse. Have you cash for a short time?
Ten shillings?
BLOOM: (SMILES, NODS SLOWLY) More, houri, more.
ZOE: And more's mother? (SHE PATS HIM OFFHANDEDLY WITH VELVET PAWS) Are
you coming into the musicroom to see our new pianola? Come and I'll peel
off.
BLOOM: (FEELING HIS OCCIPUT DUBIOUSLY WITH THE UNPARALLELED EMBARRASSMENT
OF A HARASSED PEDLAR GAUGING THE SYMMETRY OF HER PEELED PEARS) Somebody
would be dreadfully jealous if she knew. The greeneyed monster.
(EARNESTLY) You know how difficult it is. I needn't tell you.
ZOE: (FLATTERED) What the eye can't see the heart can't grieve for. (SHE
PATS HIM) Come.
BLOOM: Laughing witch! The hand that rocks the cradle.
ZOE: Babby!
BLOOM: (IN BABYLINEN AND PELISSE, BIGHEADED, WITH A CAUL OF DARK HAIR,
FIXES BIG EYES ON HER FLUID SLIP AND COUNTS ITS BRONZE BUCKLES WITH A
CHUBBY FINGER, HIS MOIST TONGUE LOLLING AND LISPING) One two tlee: tlee
tlwo tlone.
THE BUCKLES: Love me. Love me not. Love me.
ZOE: Silent means consent. (WITH LITTLE PARTED TALONS SHE CAPTURES HIS
HAND, HER FOREFINGER GIVING TO HIS PALM THE PASSTOUCH OF SECRET MONITOR,
LURING HIM TO DOOM.) Hot hands cold gizzard.
(HE HESITATES AMID SCENTS, MUSIC, TEMPTATIONS. SHE LEADS HIM TOWARDS THE
STEPS, DRAWING HIM BY THE ODOUR OF HER ARMPITS, THE VICE OF HER PAINTED
EYES, THE RUSTLE OF HER SLIP IN WHOSE SINUOUS FOLDS LURKS THE LION REEK
OF ALL THE MALE BRUTES THAT HAVE POSSESSED HER.)
THE MALE BRUTES: (EXHALING SULPHUR OF RUT AND DUNG AND RAMPING IN THEIR
LOOSEBOX, FAINTLY ROARING, THEIR DRUGGED HEADS SWAYING TO AND FRO) Good!
(ZOE AND BLOOM REACH THE DOORWAY WHERE TWO SISTER WHORES ARE SEATED. THEY
EXAMINE HIM CURIOUSLY FROM UNDER THEIR PENCILLED BROWS AND SMILE TO HIS
HASTY BOW. HE TRIPS AWKWARDLY.)
ZOE: (HER LUCKY HAND INSTANTLY SAVING HIM) Hoopsa! Don't fall upstairs.
BLOOM: The just man falls seven times. (HE STANDS ASIDE AT THE THRESHOLD)
After you is good manners.
ZOE: Ladies first, gentlemen after.
(SHE CROSSES THE THRESHOLD. HE HESITATES. SHE TURNS AND, HOLDING OUT HER
HANDS, DRAWS HIM OVER. HE HOPS. ON THE ANTLERED RACK OF THE HALL HANG A
MAN 'S HAT AND WATERPROOF. BLOOM UNCOVERS HIMSELF BUT, SEEING THEM,
FROWNS, THEN SMILES, PREOCCUPIED. A DOOR ON THE RETURN LANDING IS FLUNG
OPEN. A MAN IN PURPLE SHIRT AND GREY TROUSERS, BROWNSOCKED, PASSES WITH
AN APE'S GAIT, HIS BALD HEAD AND GOATEE BEARD UPHELD, HUGGING A FULL
WATERJUGJAR, HIS TWOTAILED BLACK BRACES DANGLING AT HEELS. AVERTING HIS
FACE QUICKLY BLOOM BENDS TO EXAMINE ON THE HALLTABLE THE SPANIEL EYES OF
A RUNNING FOX: THEN, HIS LIFTED HEAD SNIFFING, FOLLOWS ZOE INTO THE
MUSICROOM. A SHADE OF MAUVE TISSUEPAPER DIMS THE LIGHT OF THE CHANDELIER.
ROUND AND ROUND A MOTH FLIES, COLLIDING, ESCAPING. THE FLOOR IS COVERED
WITH AN OILCLOTH MOSAIC OF JADE AND AZURE AND CINNABAR RHOMBOIDS.
FOOTMARKS ARE STAMPED OVER IT IN ALL SENSES, HEEL TO HEEL, HEEL TO
HOLLOW, TOE TO TOE, FEET LOCKED, A MORRIS OF SHUFFLING FEET WITHOUT BODY
PHANTOMS, ALL IN A SCRIMMAGE HIGGLEDYPIGGLEDY. THE WALLS ARE TAPESTRIED
WITH A PAPER OF YEWFRONDS AND CLEAR GLADES. IN THE GRATE IS SPREAD A
SCREEN OF PEACOCK FEATHERS. LYNCH SQUATS CROSSLEGGED ON THE HEARTHRUG OF
MATTED HAIR, HIS CAP BACK TO THE FRONT. WITH A WAND HE BEATS TIME SLOWLY.
KITTY RICKETTS, A BONY PALLID WHORE IN NAVY COSTUME, DOESKIN GLOVES
ROLLED BACK FROM A CORAL WRISTLET, A CHAIN PURSE IN HER HAND, SITS
PERCHED ON THE EDGE OF THE TABLE SWINGING HER LEG AND GLANCING AT HERSELF
IN THE GILT MIRROR OVER THE MANTELPIECE. A TAG OF HER CORSETLACE HANGS
SLIGHTLY BELOW HER JACKET. LYNCH INDICATES MOCKINGLY THE COUPLE AT THE
PIANO.)
KITTY: (COUGHS BEHIND HER HAND) She's a bit imbecillic. (SHE SIGNS WITH A
WAGGLING FOREFINGER) Blemblem. (LYNCH LIFTS UP HER SKIRT AND WHITE
PETTICOAT WITH HIS WAND SHE SETTLES THEM DOWN QUICKLY.) Respect yourself.
(SHE HICCUPS, THEN BENDS QUICKLY HER SAILOR HAT UNDER WHICH HER HAIR
GLOWS, RED WITH HENNA) O, excuse!
ZOE: More limelight, Charley. (SHE GOES TO THE CHANDELIER AND TURNS THE
GAS FULL COCK)
KITTY: (PEERS AT THE GASJET) What ails it tonight?
LYNCH: (DEEPLY) Enter a ghost and hobgoblins.
ZOE: Clap on the back for Zoe.
(THE WAND IN LYNCH'S HAND FLASHES: A BRASS POKER. STEPHEN STANDS AT THE
PIANOLA ON WHICH SPRAWL HIS HAT AND ASHPLANT. WITH TWO FINGERS HE REPEATS
ONCE MORE THE SERIES OF EMPTY FIFTHS. FLORRY TALBOT, A BLOND FEEBLE
GOOSEFAT WHORE IN A TATTERDEMALION GOWN OF MILDEWED STRAWBERRY, LOLLS
SPREADEAGLE IN THE SOFACORNER, HER LIMP FOREARM PENDENT OVER THE BOLSTER,
LISTENING. A HEAVY STYE DROOPS OVER HER SLEEPY EYELID.)
KITTY: (HICCUPS AGAIN WITH A KICK OF HER HORSED FOOT) O, excuse!
ZOE: (PROMPTLY) Your boy's thinking of you. Tie a knot on your shift.
(KITTY RICKETTS BENDS HER HEAD. HER BOA UNCOILS, SLIDES, GLIDES OVER HER
SHOULDER, BACK, ARM, CHAIR TO THE GROUND. LYNCH LIFTS THE CURLED
CATERPILLAR ON HIS WAND. SHE SNAKES HER NECK, NESTLING. STEPHEN GLANCES
BEHIND AT THE SQUATTED FIGURE WITH ITS CAP BACK TO THE FRONT.)
STEPHEN: As a matter of fact it is of no importance whether Benedetto
Marcello found it or made it. The rite is the poet's rest. It may be an
old hymn to Demeter or also illustrate COELA ENARRANT GLORIAM DOMINI. It
is susceptible of nodes or modes as far apart as hyperphrygian and
mixolydian and of texts so divergent as priests haihooping round David's
that is Circe's or what am I saying Ceres' altar and David's tip from the
stable to his chief bassoonist about the alrightness of his almightiness.
MAIS NOM DE NOM, that is another pair of trousers. JETEZ LA GOURME. FAUT
QUE JEUNESSE SE PASSE. (HE STOPS, POINTS AT LYNCH'S CAP, SMILES, LAUGHS)
Which side is your knowledge bump?
THE CAP: (WITH SATURNINE SPLEEN) Bah! It is because it is. Woman's
reason. Jewgreek is greekjew. Extremes meet. Death is the highest form of
life. Bah!
STEPHEN: You remember fairly accurately all my errors, boasts, mistakes.
How long shall I continue to close my eyes to disloyalty? Whetstone!
THE CAP: Bah!
STEPHEN: Here's another for you. (HE FROWNS) The reason is because the
fundamental and the dominant are separated by the greatest possible
interval which ...
THE CAP: Which? Finish. You can't.
STEPHEN: (WITH AN EFFORT) Interval which. Is the greatest possible
ellipse. Consistent with. The ultimate return. The octave. Which.
THE CAP: Which?
(OUTSIDE THE GRAMOPHONE BEGINS TO BLARE The Holy City.)
STEPHEN: (ABRUPTLY) What went forth to the ends of the world to traverse
not itself, God, the sun, Shakespeare, a commercial traveller, having
itself traversed in reality itself becomes that self. Wait a moment. Wait
a second. Damn that fellow's noise in the street. Self which it itself
was ineluctably preconditioned to become. ECCO!
LYNCH: (WITH A MOCKING WHINNY OF LAUGHTER GRINS AT BLOOM AND ZOE HIGGINS)
What a learned speech, eh?
ZOE: (BRISKLY) God help your head, he knows more than you have forgotten.
(WITH OBESE STUPIDITY FLORRY TALBOT REGARDS STEPHEN.)
FLORRY: They say the last day is coming this summer.
KITTY: No!
ZOE: (EXPLODES IN LAUGHTER) Great unjust God!
FLORRY: (OFFENDED) Well, it was in the papers about Antichrist. O, my
foot's tickling.
(RAGGED BAREFOOT NEWSBOYS, JOGGING A WAGTAIL KITE, PATTER PAST, YELLING.)
THE NEWSBOYS: Stop press edition. Result of the rockinghorse races. Sea
serpent in the royal canal. Safe arrival of Antichrist.
(STEPHEN TURNS AND SEES BLOOM.)
STEPHEN: A time, times and half a time.
(REUBEN I ANTICHRIST, WANDERING JEW, A CLUTCHING HAND OPEN ON HIS SPINE,
STUMPS FORWARD. ACROSS HIS LOINS IS SLUNG A PILGRIM'S WALLET FROM WHICH
PROTRUDE PROMISSORY NOTES AND DISHONOURED BILLS. ALOFT OVER HIS SHOULDER
HE BEARS A LONG BOATPOLE FROM THE HOOK OF WHICH THE SODDEN HUDDLED MASS
OF HIS ONLY SON, SAVED FROM LIFFEY WATERS, HANGS FROM THE SLACK OF ITS
BREECHES. A HOBGOBLIN IN THE IMAGE OF PUNCH COSTELLO, HIPSHOT,
CROOKBACKED, HYDROCEPHALIC, PROGNATHIC WITH RECEDING FOREHEAD AND ALLY
SLOPER NOSE, TUMBLES IN SOMERSAULTS THROUGH THE GATHERING DARKNESS.)
ALL: What?
THE HOBGOBLIN: (HIS JAWS CHATTERING, CAPERS TO AND FRO, GOGGLING HIS
EYES, SQUEAKING, KANGAROOHOPPING WITH OUTSTRETCHED CLUTCHING ARMS, THEN
ALL AT ONCE THRUSTS HIS LIPLESS FACE THROUGH THE FORK OF HIS THIGHS) IL
VIENT! C'EST MOI! L'HOMME QUI RIT! L'HOMME PRIMIGENE! (HE WHIRLS ROUND
AND ROUND WITH DERVISH HOWLS) SIEURS ET DAMES, FAITES VOS JEUX! (HE
CROUCHES JUGGLING. TINY ROULETTE PLANETS FLY FROM HIS HANDS.) LES JEUX
SONT FAITS! (THE PLANETS RUSH TOGETHER, UTTERING CREPITANT CRACKS) RIEN
VA PLUS! (THE PLANETS, BUOYANT BALLOONS, SAIL SWOLLEN UP AND AWAY. HE
SPRINGS OFF INTO VACUUM.)
FLORRY: (SINKING INTO TORPOR, CROSSING HERSELF SECRETLY) The end of the
world!
(A FEMALE TEPID EFFLUVIUM LEAKS OUT FROM HER. NEBULOUS OBSCURITY OCCUPIES
SPACE. THROUGH THE DRIFTING FOG WITHOUT THE GRAMOPHONE BLARES OVER COUGHS
AND FEETSHUFFLING.)
THE GRAMOPHONE: Jerusalem!
Open your gates and sing
Hosanna ...
(A ROCKET RUSHES UP THE SKY AND BURSTS. A WHITE STAR FILLS FROM IT,
PROCLAIMING THE CONSUMMATION OF ALL THINGS AND SECOND COMING OF ELIJAH.
ALONG AN INFINITE INVISIBLE TIGHTROPE TAUT FROM ZENITH TO NADIR THE END
OF THE WORLD, A TWOHEADED OCTOPUS IN GILLIE'S KILTS, BUSBY AND TARTAN
FILIBEGS, WHIRLS THROUGH THE MURK, HEAD OVER HEELS, IN THE FORM OF THE
THREE LEGS OF MAN.)
THE END OF THE WORLD: (WITH A SCOTCH ACCENT) Wha'll dance the keel row,
the keel row, the keel row?
(OVER THE POSSING DRIFT AND CHOKING BREATHCOUGHS, ELIJAH'S VOICE, HARSH
AS A CORNCRAKE'S, JARS ON HIGH. PERSPIRING IN A LOOSE LAWN SURPLICE WITH
FUNNEL SLEEVES HE IS SEEN, VERGERFACED, ABOVE A ROSTRUM ABOUT WHICH THE
BANNER OF OLD GLORY IS DRAPED. HE THUMPS THE PARAPET.)
ELIJAH: No yapping, if you please, in this booth. Jake Crane, Creole Sue,
Dove Campbell, Abe Kirschner, do your coughing with your mouths shut.
Say, I am operating all this trunk line. Boys, do it now. God's time is
12.25. Tell mother you'll be there. Rush your order and you play a slick
ace. Join on right here. Book through to eternity junction, the nonstop
run. Just one word more. Are you a god or a doggone clod? If the second
advent came to Coney Island are we ready? Florry Christ, Stephen Christ,
Zoe Christ, Bloom Christ, Kitty Christ, Lynch Christ, it's up to you to
sense that cosmic force. Have we cold feet about the cosmos? No. Be on
the side of the angels. Be a prism. You have that something within, the
higher self. You can rub shoulders with a Jesus, a Gautama, an Ingersoll.
Are you all in this vibration? I say you are. You once nobble that,
congregation, and a buck joyride to heaven becomes a back number. You got
me? It's a lifebrightener, sure. The hottest stuff ever was. It's the
whole pie with jam in. It's just the cutest snappiest line out. It is
immense, supersumptuous. It restores. It vibrates. I know and I am some
vibrator. Joking apart and, getting down to bedrock, A. J. Christ Dowie
and the harmonial philosophy, have you got that? O. K. Seventyseven west
sixtyninth street. Got me? That's it. You call me up by sunphone any old
time. Bumboosers, save your stamps. (HE SHOUTS) Now then our glory song.
All join heartily in the singing. Encore! (HE SINGS) Jeru ...
THE GRAMOPHONE: (DROWNING HIS VOICE) Whorusalaminyourhighhohhhh ... (THE
DISC RASPS GRATINGLY AGAINST THE NEEDLE)
THE THREE WHORES: (COVERING THEIR EARS, SQUAWK) Ahhkkk!
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A Little Princess Sections: 24 What's this? Table of Contents |
 Non FictionShort StoriesPoetryPlaysSci FiPhilosophyReligionBiography |
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