James Joyce's Ulysses, down to only dialogue and minimal setting

This is an abridged version of James Joyce's Ulysses, showing only the dialog and the basic chapter setting. I have not edited this heavily, the content here has been extracted from Gutenberg Project's text file with a python script and help from several AI tools. It is used within the limits of the license provided in that text, details about licence use in the bottom of the text.

The short-ish dialog of Joyce's original text can be well appreciated here, it can easily be read in a day whereas the full text took me about 16 years. The reasoning behind my abridgement of this work can be more fully understood here.

Gilbert's Table

As you may know, Gilbert’s table is a chart created in 1921 by the critic and journalist Stuart Gilbert, a friend of James Joyce. It is based on Joyce’s own notes and maps each chapter of Ulysses onto a set of symbolic correspondences such as a colour, organ, art, hour of the day, and technic. Intended to guide readers through the novel’s complex structure it is one of the most widely used reference tools for interpreting Ulysses. My copy of Ulysses has this table in the Foreword, I took the liberty to map each provided colour onto the text and proposed colours for chapters that had none in the spirit of continuity.

Title Scene Hour Organ Colour Symbol Art Technic
Telemachus The Tower 8am - White / gold Heir Theology Narrative (young)
Nestor The School 10am - Brown Horse History Catechism (personal)
Proteus The Strand 11am - Green Tide Philology Monologue (male)
Calypso The House 8am Kidney Orange Nymph Economics Narrative (mature)
Lotus Eaters The Bath 10am Genitals - Eucharist Botany / chemistry Narcissism
Hades The Graveyard 11am Heart White / black Caretaker Religion Incubism
Aeolus The Newspaper 12 noon Lungs Red Editor Rhetoric Enthymemic
Lestrygonians The Lunch 1pm Oesophagus - Constables Architecture Peristaltic
Scylla and Charybdis The Library 2pm Brain - Stratford / London Literature Dialectic
Wandering Rocks The Streets 3pm Blood - Citizens Mechanics Labyrinth
Sirens The Concert Room 4pm Ear - Barmaids Music Fuga per canonem
Cyclops The Tavern 5pm Muscle - Fenian Politics Gigantism
Nausicaa The Rocks 8pm Eye, nose Grey / blue Virgin Painting Tumescence / detumescence
Oxen of the Sun The Hospital 10pm Womb White Mothers Medicine Embryonic development
Circe The Brothel 12am Locomotor apparatus - Whore Magic Hallucination
Eumaeus The Shelter 1am Nerves - Sailors Navigation Narrative (old)
Ithaca The House 2am Skeleton - Comets Science Catechism (impersonal)
Penelope The Bed - Flesh - Earth - Monologue (female)

Chapter 1 - Telemachus

↑ Back to Gilbert's Table

Setting: Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned.

Dialogue:

  • Buck Mulligan: "Introibo ad altare Dei."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Come up, Kinch! Come up, you fearful jesuit!"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Back to barracks!"
  • Buck Mulligan: "For this, O dearly beloved, is the genuine Christine: body and soul and blood and ouns. Slow music, please. Shut your eyes, gents. One moment. A little trouble about those white corpuscles. Silence, all."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Thanks, old chap. That will do nicely. Switch off the current, will you?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "The mockery of it! Your absurd name, an ancient Greek!"
  • Buck Mulligan: "My name is absurd too: Malachi Mulligan, two dactyls. But it has a Hellenic ring, hasn't it? Tripping and sunny like the buck himself. We must go to Athens. Will you come if I can get the aunt to fork out twenty quid?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Will he come? The jejune jesuit!"
  • Stephen: "Tell me, Mulligan, how long is Haines going to stay in this tower?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "God, isn't he dreadful? 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 you out. O, my name for you is the best: Kinch, the knife-blade."
  • Stephen: "He was raving all night about a black panther. Where is his guncase?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "A woful lunatic! Were you in a funk?"
  • Stephen: "I was, out here in the dark with a man I don't know raving and moaning to himself about shooting a black panther. You saved men from drowning. I'm not a hero, however. If he stays on here I am off."
  • Buck Mulligan: "The aunt thinks you killed your mother, he said. That's why she won't let me have anything to do with you."
  • Stephen: "Someone killed her."
  • Buck Mulligan: "You could have knelt down, damn it, Kinch, when your dying mother asked you. I'm hyperborean as much as you. But to think of your mother begging you with her last breath to kneel down and pray for her. And you refused. There is something sinister in you..."
  • Stephen: "I am not thinking of the offence to my mother."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Of what then?"
  • Stephen: "Of the offence to me."
  • Buck Mulligan: "O, an impossible person!"
  • Haines: "Are you up there, Mulligan?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "I'm coming."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Look at the sea. What does it care about offences? Chuck Loyola, Kinch, and come on down. The Sassenach wants his morning rashers."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Don't mope over it all day, he said. I'm inconsequent. Give up the moody brooding."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Kinch ahoy!"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Dedalus, come down, like a good mosey. Breakfast is ready. Haines apologises for waking us. He said goodbye."
  • Stephen: "I'm coming."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Do, for Jesus' sake, for my sake and for all our sakes."
  • Buck Mulligan: "I told him your symbol of Irish art. He says it's very clever. Touch him for a quid, will you? A guinea, I mean."
  • Stephen: "I get paid this morning."
  • Buck Mulligan: "The school kip? How much? Four quid? Lend us one."
  • Stephen: "If you want it."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Four shining sovereigns, we'll have a glorious drunk to astonish the druidy druids."
  • Buck Mulligan: "We'll be choked. Haines, open that door, will you?"
  • Haines: "Have you the key?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Dedalus has it. Janey Mack, I'm choked!"
  • Stephen: "It's in the lock."
  • Buck Mulligan: "I'm melting, as the candle remarked when... But, hush! Not a word more on that subject!"
  • Buck Mulligan: "What sort of a kip is this? I told her to come after eight."
  • Stephen: "We can drink it black, there's a lemon in the locker."
  • Buck Mulligan: "O, damn you and your Paris fads! I want Sandycove milk."
  • Haines: "That woman is coming up with the milk."
  • Buck Mulligan: "The blessings of God on you! In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti."
  • Haines: "I'm giving you two lumps each. But, I say, Mulligan, you do make strong tea, don't you?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "When I makes tea I makes tea, as old mother Grogan said. And when I makes water I makes water."
  • Haines: "By Jove, it is tea."
  • Buck Mulligan: "So I do, Mrs Cahill, says she. Begob, ma'am, says Mrs Cahill, God send you don't make them in the one pot."
  • Buck Mulligan: "That's folk, for your book, Haines. Five lines of text and ten pages of notes about the folk and the fishgods of Dundrum. Printed by the weird sisters in the year of the big wind."
  • Stephen: "Can you recall, brother, is mother Grogan's tea and water pot spoken of in the Mabinogion or is it in the Upanishads?"
  • Stephen: "I doubt it."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Do you now? Your reasons, pray?"
  • Stephen: "I fancy, it did not exist in or out of the Mabinogion."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Charming! showing his white teeth and thumbing his lip. The quaint name of the quaint old lady. It's like a name out of Ibsen. I suppose she was a Yiddisher."
  • Old woman: "The milk, sir!"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Come in, ma'am. Kinch, get the jug."
  • Old woman: "That's a lovely morning, sir. Glory be to God."
  • Buck Mulligan: "To whom? Ah, to be sure!"
  • Stephen: "The islanders speak frequently of the beast by that name, Stephen said to Haines casually."
  • Old woman: "How much, sir?"
  • Stephen: "A quart."
  • Buck Mulligan: "It is indeed, ma'am, pouring milk into their cups."
  • Old woman: "Taste it, sir."
  • Buck Mulligan: "If we could live on good food like that, he said to her somewhat loudly, we wouldn't have the country full of rotten teeth and rotten guts. Living in a bogswamp, eating cheap food and the streets paved with dust, horsedung and consumptives' spits."
  • Old woman: "Are you a medical student, sir?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "I am, ma'am."
  • Old woman: "Look at that now."
  • Stephen: "Do you understand what he says?"
  • Old woman: "Is it French you are talking, sir?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Irish. Is there Gaelic on you?"
  • Old woman: "I thought it was Irish, by the sound of it. Are you from the west, sir?"
  • Haines: "I am an Englishman."
  • Buck Mulligan: "He's English, and he thinks we ought to speak Irish in Ireland."
  • Old woman: "Sure we ought to, and I'm ashamed I don't speak the language myself. I'm told it's a grand language by them that knows."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Grand is no name for it. Wonderful entirely. Fill out the place for the tea."
  • Old woman: "No, thank you, sir, slipping the ring of the milkcan on her forearm and about to go."
  • Haines: "Have you your bill? We had better pay her, Mulligan, hadn't we?"
  • Old woman: "Bill, sir? Well, it's seven mornings a pint at twopence is seven twos is a shilling and twopence over and these three mornings every other day at twopence is three twos is sixpence and one and two is two and two, sir."
  • Haines: "Pay up and look pleasant, smiling."
  • Buck Mulligan: "A miracle! Ask nothing more of me, sweet. All I can give you I give."
  • Buck Mulligan: "We'll owe twopence."
  • Old woman: "Time enough, sir, taking the coin. Time enough. Good morning, sir."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Seriously, Dedalus. I'm stony. Hurry out to your school kip and bring us back some money. Today the bards must drink and junket. Ireland expects that every man this day will do his duty."
  • Haines: "That reminds me, rising, that I have to visit your national library today."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Our swim first."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Is this the day for your monthly wash, Kinch?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "The unclean bard makes a point of washing once a month."
  • Stephen: "All Ireland is washed by the gulfstream, as he let honey trickle over a slice of the loaf."
  • Haines: "I intend to make a collection of your sayings if you will let me."
  • Haines: "That one about the cracked lookingglass of a servant being the symbol of Irish art is deuced good."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Wait till you hear him on Hamlet, Haines."
  • Haines: "Well, I mean it, still speaking to Stephen. I was just thinking of it when that poor old creature came in."
  • Stephen: "Would I make any money by it?"
  • Haines: "I don't know, I'm sure."
  • Buck Mulligan: "You put your hoof in it now. What did you say that for?"
  • Stephen: "Well? The problem is to get money. From whom? From the queen or from her successor?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "I blow him out about you, and then you come along with your lousy leer and your gloomy jesuit jibes."
  • Stephen: "I see little hope, from her or from him."
  • Buck Mulligan: "From me, Kinch."
  • Buck Mulligan: "To tell you the God's truth I think you're right. Damn all else they are good for. Why don't you play them as I do?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Mulligan is stripped of his garments."
  • Buck Mulligan: "There's your snotrag."
  • Buck Mulligan: "And there's your Latin quarter hat."
  • Haines: "Are you coming, you fellows?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "I'm ready. Come out, Kinch. You have eaten all we left, I suppose."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Did you bring the key?"
  • Stephen: "I have it, preceding them."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Down, sir! How dare you, sir!"
  • Haines: "Do you pay rent for this tower?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Twelve quid."
  • Stephen: "To the secretary of state for war, over his shoulder."
  • Haines: "Rather bleak in wintertime, I should say. Martello you call it?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Billy Pitt had them built when the French were on the sea. But ours is the omphalos."
  • Haines: "What is your idea of Hamlet?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "No, no, I'm not equal to Thomas Aquinas and the fiftyfive reasons he has made out to prop it up. Wait till I have a few pints in me first."
  • Buck Mulligan: "You couldn't manage it under three pints, Kinch, could you?"
  • Stephen: "It has waited so long, it can wait longer."
  • Haines: "You pique my curiosity. Is it some paradox?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Pooh! We have grown out of Wilde and paradoxes. It's quite simple. He proves by algebra that Hamlet's grandson is Shakespeare's grandfather and that he himself is the ghost of his own father."
  • Haines: "What? beginning to point at Stephen. He himself?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "O, shade of Kinch the elder! Japhet in search of a father!"
  • Stephen: "We're always tired in the morning, to Haines. And it is rather long to tell."
  • Buck Mulligan: "The sacred pint alone can unbind the tongue of Dedalus."
  • Haines: "I mean to say, explained to Stephen as they followed, this tower and these cliffs here remind me somehow of Elsinore. That beetles o'er his base into the sea, isn't it?"
  • Haines: "It's a wonderful tale, bringing them to halt again."
  • Stephen: "I read a theological interpretation of it somewhere, bemused. The Father and the Son idea. The Son striving to be atoned with the Father."
  • Buck Mulligan: "We oughtn't to laugh, I suppose. He's rather blasphemous. I'm not a believer myself, that is to say. Still his gaiety takes the harm out of it somehow, doesn't it?"
  • Stephen: "The ballad of joking Jesus."
  • Haines: "O, you have heard it before?"
  • Stephen: "Three times a day, after meals."
  • Haines: "You're not a believer, are you? I mean, a believer in the narrow sense of the word. Creation from nothing and miracles and a personal God."
  • Stephen: "There's only one sense of the word, it seems to me."
  • Haines: "Thank you, taking a cigarette."
  • Haines: "Yes, of course, as they went on again. Either you believe or you don't, isn't it? Personally I couldn't stomach that idea of a personal God. You don't stand for that, I suppose?"
  • Stephen: "You behold in me, with grim displeasure, a horrible example of free thought."
  • Haines: "After all, I should think you are able to free yourself. You are your own master, it seems to me."
  • Stephen: "I am a servant of two masters, an English and an Italian."
  • Haines: "Italian?"
  • Stephen: "And a third, there is who wants me for odd jobs."
  • Haines: "Italian? What do you mean?"
  • Stephen: "The imperial British state, his colour rising, and the holy Roman catholic and apostolic church."
  • Haines: "I can quite understand that, calmly. An Irishman must think like that, I daresay. We feel in England that we have treated you rather unfairly. It seems history is to blame."
  • Haines: "Of course I'm a Britisher, and I feel as one. I don't want to see my country fall into the hands of German jews either. That's our national problem, I'm afraid, just now."
  • Buck Mulligan: "She's making for Bullock harbour."
  • Buck Mulligan: "There's five fathoms out there, he said. It'll be swept up that way when the tide comes in about one. It's nine days today."
  • Young man: "Is the brother with you, Malachi?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Down in Westmeath. With the Bannons."
  • Young man: "Still there? I got a card from Bannon. Says he found a sweet young thing down there. Photo girl he calls her."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Snapshot, eh? Brief exposure."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Seymour's back in town, the young man said, grasping again his spur of rock. He's on the loose. What did you do with the lovelorn letters when the banns broke?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Ah, go to God!"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Going over next week to stew. You know that red Carlisle girl, Lily?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Yes."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Spooning with him last night on the pier. The father is rotto with money."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Is she up the pole?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Better ask Seymour that."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Seymour a bleeding officer!"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Redheaded women buck like goats."
  • Buck Mulligan: "My twelfth rib is gone, he cried. I'm the Übermensch. Toothless Kinch and I, the supermen."
  • Haines: "Are you going in here, Malachi?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Yes. Make room in the bed."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Are you not coming in?"
  • Haines: "Later on. Not on my breakfast."
  • Stephen: "I'm going, Mulligan."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Give us that key, Kinch, to keep my chemise flat."
  • Buck Mulligan: "And twopence, for a pint. Throw it there."
  • Buck Mulligan: "He who stealeth from the poor lendeth to the Lord. Thus spake Zarathustra."
  • Haines: "We'll see you again, turning as Stephen walked up the path and smiling at wild Irish."
  • Buck Mulligan: "The Ship, half twelve."
  • Stephen: "Good."

Chapter 2 - Nestor

↑ Back to Gilbert's Table

Setting: A classroom where Stephen teaches his students about history. The boy's blank face asked the blank window. Fabled by the daughters of memory. And yet it was in some way if not as memory fabled it.

Dialogue:

  • Stephen: "You, Cochrane, what city sent for him?"
  • Cochrane: "Tarentum, sir."
  • Stephen: "Very good. Well?"
  • Student: "There was a battle, sir."
  • Stephen: "Very good. Where?"
  • Student: "I forget the place, sir. 279 B. C."
  • Stephen: "Asculum, glancing at the name and date in the gorescarred book."
  • Student: "Yes, sir. And he said: Another victory like that and we are done for."
  • Stephen: "You, Armstrong. What was the end of Pyrrhus?"
  • Armstrong: "End of Pyrrhus, sir?"
  • Comyn: "I know, sir. Ask me, sir."
  • Stephen: "Wait. You, Armstrong. Do you know anything about Pyrrhus?"
  • Armstrong: "Pyrrhus, sir? Pyrrhus, a pier."
  • Stephen: "Tell me now, poking the boy's shoulder with the book, what is a pier."
  • Armstrong: "A pier, sir. A thing out in the water. A kind of a bridge."
  • Stephen: "Kingstown pier. Yes, a disappointed bridge."
  • Comyn: "How, sir? A bridge is across a river."
  • Student: "Tell us a story, sir."
  • Student: "O, do, sir. A ghoststory."
  • Stephen: "Where do you begin in this? opening another book."
  • Comyn: "Weep no more."
  • Stephen: "Go on then, Talbot."
  • Student: "And the story, sir?"
  • Stephen: "After. Go on, Talbot."
  • Stephen: "Turn over, quietly. I don't see anything."
  • Talbot: "What, sir? simply, bending forward."
  • Stephen: "Have I heard all?"
  • Student: "Yes, sir. Hockey at ten, sir."
  • Student: "Half day, sir. Thursday."
  • Stephen: "Who can answer a riddle?"
  • Student: "A riddle, sir? Ask me, sir."
  • Student: "O, ask me, sir."
  • Student: "A hard one, sir."
  • Stephen: "This is the riddle: The cock crew, The sky was blue: The bells in heaven Were striking eleven. 'Tis time for this poor soul To go to heaven."
  • Student: "What, sir?"
  • Student: "Again, sir. We didn't hear."
  • Stephen: "What is it? We give it up."
  • Stephen: "The fox burying his grandmother under a hollybush."
  • Students: "Hockey!"
  • Sargent: "Mr Deasy told me to write them out all again, and show them to you, sir."
  • Stephen: "Do you understand how to do them now?"
  • Sargent: "Numbers eleven to fifteen. Mr Deasy said I was to copy them off the board, sir."
  • Stephen: "Can you do them yourself?"
  • Sargent: "No, sir."
  • Stephen: "Do you understand now? Can you work the second for yourself?"
  • Sargent: "Yes, sir."
  • Stephen: "It is very simple, as he stood up."
  • Sargent: "Yes, sir. Thanks."
  • Stephen: "You had better get your stick and go out to the others, as they are finished for the day."
  • Sargent: "Yes, sir."
  • Stephen: "Sargent!"
  • Stephen: "Run on. Mr Deasy is calling you."
  • Mr. Deasy: "What is it now? continually without listening."
  • Stephen: "Cochrane and Halliday are on the same side, sir."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Will you wait in my study for a moment, till I restore order here."
  • Mr. Deasy: "What is the matter? What is it now?"
  • Mr. Deasy: "First, our little financial settlement."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Two, strapping and stowing his pocketbook away."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Three, turning his little savingsbox about in his hand."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Three twelve. I think you'll find that's right."
  • Stephen: "Thank you, sir, gathering the money together with shy haste and putting it all in a pocket of his trousers."
  • Mr. Deasy: "No thanks at all. You have earned it."
  • Stephen: "I owe thanks."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Don't carry it like that. You'll pull it out somewhere and lose it. You just buy one of these machines. You'll find them very handy."
  • Stephen: "Mine would be often empty."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Because you don't save, pointing his finger. You don't know yet what money is. Money is power. When you have lived as long as I have. I know, I know. If youth but knew. But what does Shakespeare say? Put but money in thy purse."
  • Stephen: "Iago."
  • Mr. Deasy: "He knew what money was. He made money. A poet, yes, but an Englishman too. Do you know what is the pride of the English?"
  • Stephen: "That on his empire the sun never sets."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Ba! That's not English. A French Celt said that. He tapped his savingsbox against his thumbnail."
  • Mr. Deasy: "I will tell you, solemnly, what is his proudest boast. I paid my way."
  • Stephen: "Good man, good man."
  • Mr. Deasy: "I paid my way. I never borrowed a shilling in my life. Can you feel that? I owe nothing. Can you?"
  • Stephen: "For the moment, no."
  • Mr. Deasy: "I knew you couldn't, joyously. But one day you must feel it. We are a generous people but we must also be just."
  • Stephen: "I fear those big words, which make us so unhappy."
  • Mr. Deasy: "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 orange lodges agitated for repeal of the union twenty years before O'Connell did or before the prelates of your communion denounced him as a demagogue? You fenians forget some things."
  • Stephen: "To learn one must be humble. But life is the great teacher."
  • Mr. Deasy: "I have rebel blood in me too. On the spindle side. But I am descended from sir John Blackwood who voted for the union. We are all Irish, all kings' sons."
  • Stephen: "Alas."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Per vias rectas, was his motto. He voted for it and put on his topboots to ride to Dublin from the Ards of Down to do it."
  • Stephen: "Lal the ral the ra, The rocky road to Dublin."
  • Mr. Deasy: "That reminds me. You can do me a favour, Mr Dedalus, with some of your literary friends. I have a letter here."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Sit down. Excuse me, over his shoulder, the dictates of common sense. Just a moment."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Full stop, to his keys. But prompt ventilation of this allimportant question..."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Now then, rising."
  • Mr. Deasy: "I have put the matter into a nutshell. It's about the foot and mouth disease. Just look through it. There can be no two opinions on the matter."
  • Mr. Deasy: "I don't mince words, do I?" (as Stephen read on)
  • Mr. Deasy: "I want that to be printed and read. You will see at the next outbreak they will put an embargo on Irish cattle. And it can be cured. It is cured. My cousin, Blackwood Price, writes to me it is regularly treated and cured in Austria by cattledoctors there. They offer to come over here. I am trying to work up influence with the department. Now I'm going to try publicity. I am surrounded by difficulties, by... intrigues by... backstairs influence by..."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Mark my words, Mr Dedalus. England is in the hands of the jews. In all the highest places: her finance, her press. And they are the signs of a nation's decay. Wherever they gather they eat up the nation's vital strength. I have seen it coming these years. As sure as we are standing here the jew merchants are already at their work of destruction. Old England is dying."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Dying, again, if not dead by now."
  • Stephen: "A merchant, is one who buys cheap and sells dear, jew or gentile, is he not?"
  • Mr. Deasy: "They sinned against the light, gravely. And you can see the darkness in their eyes. And that is why they are wanderers on the earth to this day."
  • Stephen: "Who has not?"
  • Mr. Deasy: "What do you mean?"
  • Stephen: "History, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake."
  • Mr. Deasy: "The ways of the Creator are not our ways. All human history moves towards one great goal, the manifestation of God."
  • Stephen: "That is God."
  • Mr. Deasy: "What?"
  • Stephen: "A shout in the street, shrugging his shoulders."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Very good then."
  • Mr. Deasy: "I am happier than you are. We have committed many errors and many sins. A woman brought sin into the world. For a woman who was no better than she should be, Helen, the runaway wife of Menelaus, ten years the Greeks made war on Troy. A faithless wife first brought the strangers to our shore here, MacMurrough's wife and her leman, O'Rourke, prince of Breffni. A woman too brought Parnell low. Many errors, many failures but not the one sin. I am a struggler now at the end of my days. But I will fight for the right till the end."
  • Student: "Well, sir."
  • Mr. Deasy: "I foresee, that you will not remain here very long at this work. You were not born to be a teacher, I think. Perhaps I am wrong."
  • Stephen: "A learner rather."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Who knows? To learn one must be humble. But life is the great teacher."
  • Stephen: "As regards these."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Yes. You have two copies there. If you can have them published at once."
  • Stephen: "I will try, and let you know tomorrow. I know two editors slightly."
  • Mr. Deasy: "That will do, Mr Deasy said briskly. I wrote last night to Mr Field, M.P. There is a meeting of the cattletraders' association today at the City Arms hotel. I asked him to lay my letter before the meeting. You see if you can get it into your two papers. What are they?"
  • Stephen: "The Evening Telegraph..."
  • Mr. Deasy: "That will do. There is no time to lose. Now I have to answer that letter from my cousin."
  • Stephen: "Good morning, sir, putting the sheets in his pocket. Thank you."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Not at all, Mr Deasy said as he searched the papers on his desk. I like to break a lance with you, old as I am."
  • Stephen: "Good morning, sir, again, bowing to his bent back."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Mr Dedalus!"
  • Mr. Deasy: "Just one moment."
  • Stephen: "Yes, sir, turning back at the gate."
  • Mr. Deasy: "I just wanted to say. Ireland, they say, has the honour of being the only country which never persecuted the jews. Do you know that? No. And do you know why?"
  • Stephen: "Why, sir? beginning to smile."
  • Mr. Deasy: "Because she never let them in, solemnly."
  • Mr. Deasy: "She never let them in, again through his laughter as he stamped on gaitered feet over the gravel of the path. That's why."

Chapter 3 - Proteus

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Setting: Sandymount strand. Stephen walks along the beach, thinking philosophical thoughts. "Ineluctable modality of the visible: at least that if no more, thought through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the nearing tide, that rusty boot."

Dialogue:

  • Voice: "It's Stephen, sir."
  • Voice: "Let him in. Let Stephen in."
  • Voice: "We thought you were someone else."
  • Uncle Richie: "Morrow, nephew."
  • Stephen: "Yes, sir?"
  • Uncle Richie: "Malt for Richie and Stephen, tell mother. Where is she?"
  • Voice: "Bathing Crissie, sir."
  • Stephen: "No, uncle Richie..."
  • Uncle Richie: "Call me Richie. Damn your lithia water. It lowers. Whusky!"
  • Stephen: "Uncle Richie, really..."
  • Uncle Richie: "Sit down or by the law Harry I'll knock you down."
  • Voice: "He has nothing to sit down on, sir."
  • Uncle Richie: "He has nowhere to put it, you mug. Bring in our chippendale chair."
  • Telegram: "Mother dying come home father."
  • Voice: "Tatters! Out of that, you mongrel!"

Chapter 4 - Calypso

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Setting: Leopold Bloom's house at 7 Eccles Street in the morning. Mr Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls.

Dialogue:

  • Cat: "Mkgnao!"
  • Bloom: "O, there you are, turning from the fire."
  • Bloom: "Milk for the pussens."
  • Cat: "Mrkgnao!"
  • Bloom: "Afraid of the chickens she is, mockingly. Afraid of the chickens."
  • Cat: "Mrkrgnao!"
  • Cat: "Gurrhr! running to lap."
  • Bloom: "I'm going round the corner. Be back in a minute."
  • Bloom: "You don't want anything for breakfast?"
  • Molly: "Mn."
  • Bloom: "Good day, Mr O'Rourke."
  • Mr O'Rourke: "Good day to you."
  • Bloom: "Lovely weather, sir."
  • Mr O'Rourke: "'Tis all that."
  • Butcher: "Now, my miss."
  • Butcher: "Thank you, my miss. And one shilling threepence change. For you, my miss."
  • Butcher: "Threepence, please."
  • Butcher: "Thank you, sir. Another time."
  • Bloom: "Good morning, moving away."
  • Butcher: "Good morning, sir."
  • Molly: "Poldy!"
  • Molly: "Who are the letters for?"
  • Bloom: "A letter for me from Milly, carefully, and a card to you. And a letter for you."
  • Molly: "Do you want the blind up?"
  • Bloom: "That do? turning."
  • Molly: "She got the things."
  • Molly: "Hurry up with that tea. I'm parched."
  • Bloom: "The kettle is boiling."
  • Molly: "Poldy!"
  • Bloom: "What?"
  • Molly: "Scald the teapot."
  • Molly: "What a time you were!"
  • Bloom: "Who was the letter from?"
  • Molly: "O, Boylan. He's bringing the programme."
  • Bloom: "What are you singing?"
  • Molly: "Là ci darem with J. C. Doyle, and Love's Old Sweet Song."
  • Bloom: "Would you like the window open a little?"
  • Molly: "What time is the funeral?"
  • Bloom: "Eleven, I think. I didn't see the paper."
  • Molly: "No: that book."
  • Molly: "It must have fell down."
  • Molly: "Show here. I put a mark in it. There's a word I wanted to ask you."
  • Bloom: "Met him what?"
  • Molly: "Here. What does that mean?"
  • Bloom: "Metempsychosis?"
  • Molly: "Yes. Who's he when he's at home?"
  • Bloom: "Metempsychosis, frowning. It's Greek: from the Greek. That means the transmigration of souls."
  • Molly: "O, rocks! Tell us in plain words."
  • Bloom: "Did you finish it?"
  • Molly: "Yes. There's nothing smutty in it. Is she in love with the first fellow all the time?"
  • Bloom: "Never read it. Do you want another?"
  • Molly: "Yes. Get another of Paul de Kock's. Nice name he has."
  • Bloom: "Some people believe, that we go on living in another body after death, that we lived before. They call it reincarnation. That we all lived before on the earth thousands of years ago or on some other planet. They say we have forgotten it. Some say they remember their past lives."
  • Bloom: "Metempsychosis, is what the ancient Greeks called it. They used to believe you could be changed into a tree for example. Or into a hawk, a cat. Or even a stone. How they used to believe that."
  • Molly: "There's a smell of burn. Did you leave anything on the fire?"
  • Bloom: "The kidney! suddenly."
  • Bloom: "Miaow! in answer. Wait till I'm ready."
  • Bloom: "Come, come, pussy. Come."

Chapter 5 - Lotus Eaters

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Setting: Bloom's morning wanderings through Dublin streets.

Dialogue:

  • Bloom: "Are there any letters for me?"
  • M'Coy: "Hello, Bloom. Where are you off to?"
  • Bloom: "Hello, M'Coy. Nowhere in particular."
  • M'Coy: "How's the body?"
  • Bloom: "Fine. How are you?"
  • M'Coy: "Just keeping alive."
  • M'Coy: "Is there any... no trouble I hope? I see you're..."
  • Bloom: "O, no. Poor Dignam, you know. The funeral is today."
  • M'Coy: "To be sure, poor fellow. So it is. What time?"
  • Bloom: "E...eleven."
  • M'Coy: "I must try to get out there. Eleven, is it? I only heard it this morning."
  • Bloom: "I know."
  • M'Coy: "I was with Bob Doran, he's on one of his periodical bends, and what do you think he told me?"
  • M'Coy: "And he said: Sad thing about our poor friend Paddy! What Paddy? I said."
  • M'Coy: "Why? I said. What's wrong with him? I said."
  • Bloom: "Yes."
  • M'Coy: "What's wrong with him? He said. He's dead, he said. And, faith, he was right."
  • Bloom: "Yes, yes, after a dull sigh. Another gone."
  • M'Coy: "One of the best."
  • M'Coy: "Wife well, I suppose?"
  • Bloom: "O, yes. Tiptop, thanks."
  • M'Coy: "My missus has just got an engagement. At least it's not settled yet."
  • Bloom: "My wife too. She's going to sing at a swagger affair in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on the twentyfifth."
  • M'Coy: "That so? Glad to hear that, old man. Who's getting it up?"
  • Bloom: "It's a kind of a tour, don't you see, thoughtfully."
  • M'Coy: "O, well. That's good news."
  • M'Coy: "Well, glad to see you looking fit. Meet you knocking around."
  • Bloom: "Yes."
  • M'Coy: "Tell you what. You might put down my name at the funeral, will you? I'd like to go but I mightn't be able, you see. There's a drowning case at Sandycove may turn up and then the coroner and myself would have to go down if the body is found. You just put down my name at the funeral."
  • Bloom: "I'll do that, moving to get off. That'll be all right."
  • M'Coy: "Right, brightly. Thanks, old man. I'd go if I possibly could. Well, so long."
  • Bloom: "That will be done, firmly."
  • Voice: "O God, our refuge and our strength..."
  • Voice: "Blessed Michael, archangel, defend us in the hour of conflict. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil..."
  • Chemist: "About a fortnight ago, sir?"
  • Bloom: "Yes."
  • Bloom: "Sweet almond oil and tincture of benzoin, and then I want a flannel bandage."
  • Chemist: "And white wax also."
  • Chemist: "Yes, sir. That was two and nine. Have you brought a bottle?"
  • Bloom: "No. Make it up, please. I'll call later in the day and take it away."
  • Chemist: "Fourpence, sir."
  • Bloom: "I'll take this one. That makes three and a penny."
  • Chemist: "Yes, sir. You can pay all together, sir, when you call."
  • Bloom: "Good."
  • Bantam Lyons: "Hello, Bloom. What's the best news? Is that today's? Show us a minute."
  • Bantam Lyons: "I want to see about that French horse that's running today, Bantam Lyons said."
  • Bloom: "You can keep it."
  • Bantam Lyons: "Ascot. Gold cup. Wait, muttered. Half a mo. Maximum the second."
  • Bloom: "I was just going to throw it away."
  • Bantam Lyons: "What's that? his sharp voice said."
  • Bloom: "I say you can keep it. I was going to throw it away anyway."
  • Bantam Lyons: "I'll risk it, he said. Here, thanks."

Chapter 6 - Hades

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Setting: The funeral carriage ride to Glasnevin Cemetery for Paddy Dignam's burial.

Dialogue:

  • Martin Cunningham: "Come on, Simon."
  • Bloom: "After you."
  • Dedalus: "Yes, yes."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Are we all here now? Come along, Bloom."
  • Power: "What way is he taking us?"
  • Martin Cunningham: "Irishtown. Ringsend. Brunswick street."
  • Power: "That's a fine old custom. I am glad to see it has not died out."
  • Martin Cunningham: "There's a friend of yours gone by, Dedalus."
  • Dedalus: "Who is that?"
  • Martin Cunningham: "Your son and heir."
  • Dedalus: "Where is he? stretching over across."
  • Dedalus: "Was that Mulligan cad with him? His fidus Achates!"
  • Bloom: "No. He was alone."
  • Dedalus: "Down with his aunt Sally, I suppose, the Goulding connection."
  • Dedalus: "He's in with a lowdown crowd. That Mulligan is a contaminated bloody doubledyed ruffian by all accounts."
  • Dedalus: "I won't have her bastard of a nephew ruin my son. A counterjumper's son. Selling tapes in my cousin, Peter Paul M'Swiney's."
  • Power: "Are we late?"
  • Martin Cunningham: "Ten minutes, looking at his watch."
  • Power: "Corny might have given us a more commodious yoke."
  • Dedalus: "He might, if he hadn't that squint troubling him. Do you follow me?"
  • Dedalus: "What is this, in the name of God? Crumbs?"
  • Power: "Someone seems to have been making a picnic party here lately."
  • Power: "Unless I'm greatly mistaken. What do you think, Martin?"
  • Martin Cunningham: "It struck me too."
  • Power: "After all, it's the most natural thing in the world."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Did Tom Kernan turn up? twirling the peak of his beard."
  • Bloom: "Yes. He's behind with Ned Lambert and Hynes."
  • Power: "And Corny Kelleher himself?"
  • Martin Cunningham: "At the cemetery."
  • Bloom: "I met M'Coy this morning. He said he'd try to come."
  • Power: "What's wrong?"
  • Martin Cunningham: "We're stopped."
  • Power: "Where are we?"
  • Martin Cunningham: "The grand canal."
  • Power: "The weather is changing, quietly."
  • Martin Cunningham: "A pity it did not keep up fine."
  • Power: "Wanted for the country. There's the sun again coming out."
  • Power: "It's as uncertain as a child's bottom."
  • Martin Cunningham: "We're off again."
  • Power: "Tom Kernan was immense last night. And Paddy Leonard taking him off to his face."
  • Power: "O, draw him out, Martin, eagerly. Wait till you hear him, Martin."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Immense, pompously. His singing of that simple ballad, pure and perfect. Such a true gift for that kind of thing."
  • Power: "Trenchant, laughing. He's dead nuts on that. And the other one, Balfe's. Let me see..."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Did you read Dan Dawson's speech?"
  • Dedalus: "I did not then. Where is it?"
  • Martin Cunningham: "In the paper this morning."
  • Dedalus: "No, no, quickly. Later on please."
  • Martin Cunningham: "How do you do? raising his palm to his brow in salute."
  • Power: "He doesn't see us. Yes, he does. How do you do?"
  • Dedalus: "Who?"
  • Power: "Blazes Boylan. There he is airing his quiff."
  • Power: "How is the concert tour getting on, Bloom?"
  • Bloom: "O, very well. I hear great accounts of it. It's a good idea, you see."
  • Power: "Are you going yourself?"
  • Bloom: "Well no. In point of fact I have to go down to the county Clare on some private business."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Quite so. Mary Anderson is up there now."
  • Bloom: "Louis Werner is touring her. O yes, we'll have all the topnobbers."
  • Power: "And Madame, smiling. Last but not least."
  • Voice: "Four bootlaces for a penny."
  • Power: "Of the tribe of Reuben."
  • Power: "In all his pristine beauty."
  • Dedalus: "The devil break the hasp of your back!"
  • Martin Cunningham: "We have all been there, broadly."
  • Power: "Well, nearly all of us."
  • Martin Cunningham: "That's an awfully good one that's going the rounds about Reuben J and the son."
  • Power: "About the boatman?"
  • Martin Cunningham: "Yes. Isn't it awfully good?"
  • Dedalus: "What is that? I didn't hear it."
  • Bloom: "There was a girl in the case, and he determined to send him to the rightabout."
  • Dedalus: "What? That confirmed bloody hobbledehoy is it?"
  • Bloom: "Yes. They were both on the way to the boat and he tried to drown him."
  • Dedalus: "Drown Barabbas! I wish to Christ he did!"
  • Bloom: "No, the son himself....."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Reuben J and the son were piking it down the quay next the river on their way to the boat and he tried to drown him."
  • Dedalus: "For God's sake! Is he dead?"
  • Martin Cunningham: "Dead! Not he! A boatman got a pole and fished him out by the slack of the breeches."
  • Bloom: "Yes. But the funny part is....."
  • Martin Cunningham: "And Reuben J, gave the boatman a florin for saving his son's life."
  • Martin Cunningham: "O, he did. Like a hero. A silver florin."
  • Bloom: "Isn't it awfully good? eagerly."
  • Dedalus: "One and eightpence too much, drily."
  • Voice: "Eight plums a penny! Eight for a penny!"
  • Martin Cunningham: "We had better look a little serious."
  • Power: "Ah then indeed, poor little Paddy wouldn't grudge us a laugh."
  • Power: "The Lord forgive me! wiping his wet eyes with his fingers."
  • Dedalus: "As decent a little man as ever wore a hat. He went very suddenly."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Breakdown. Heart."
  • Power: "He had a sudden death, poor fellow."
  • Bloom: "The best death."
  • Power: "No suffering. A moment and all is over. Like dying in sleep."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Sad. A child."
  • Dedalus: "Poor little thing. It's well out of it."
  • Martin Cunningham: "In the midst of life."
  • Power: "But the worst of all is the man who takes his own life."
  • Power: "The greatest disgrace to have in the family."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Temporary insanity, of course. We must take a charitable view of it."
  • Dedalus: "They say a man who does it is a coward."
  • Martin Cunningham: "It is not for us to judge."
  • Martin Cunningham: "We are going the pace, I think."
  • Power: "God grant he doesn't upset us on the road."
  • Martin Cunningham: "I hope not. That will be a great race tomorrow at the Curragh."
  • Dedalus: "Yes, by Jove. That will be worth seeing, faith."
  • Power: "What's wrong now?"
  • Power: "Emigrants."
  • Drover: "Huuuh! his switch sounding on their flanks."
  • Power: "I can't make out why the corporation doesn't run a tramline from the parkgate to the quays."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Instead of blocking up the thoroughfare. Quite right."
  • Bloom: "Yes, and another thing I often thought, is to have municipal funeral trams like they have in Milan, you know."
  • Dedalus: "O, that be damned for a story. Pullman car and saloon diningroom."
  • Power: "A poor lookout for Corny."
  • Bloom: "Why? turning to Mr Dedalus. Wouldn't it be more decent than galloping two abreast?"
  • Dedalus: "Well, there's something in that."
  • Martin Cunningham: "And, we wouldn't have scenes like that when the hearse capsized round Dunphy's and upset the coffin on to the road."
  • Power: "That was terrible, and the corpse fell about the place. The head fell off."
  • Dedalus: "First round Dunphy's, nodding. Gordon Bennett cup."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Praises be to God! piously."
  • Power: "Dunphy's, as the carriage turned right."
  • Power: "I wonder how is our friend Fogarty getting on."
  • Dedalus: "Better ask Tom Kernan."
  • Martin Cunningham: "How is that? Left him weeping, I suppose?"
  • Dedalus: "Though lost to sight, to memory dear."
  • Power: "That is where Childs was murdered. The last house."
  • Dedalus: "So it is. A gruesome case. Seymour Bushe got him off."
  • Power: "The crown had no evidence."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Only circumstantial. That's the maxim of the law."
  • Power: "I was in mortal agony with you talking of suicide before Bloom."
  • Power: "What? How so?"
  • Martin Cunningham: "His father poisoned himself, whispered. Had the Queen's hotel in Longford."
  • Power: "O God! First I heard of it. Poisoned himself?"
  • Bloom: "Was he insured?"
  • Kernan: "I believe so. But the policy was heavily mortgaged."
  • Power: "How many children did he leave?"
  • Kernan: "Five. Ned Lambert says he'll try to get one of the girls into Todd's."
  • Bloom: "A sad case, gently. Five young children."
  • Kernan: "A great blow to the poor wife."
  • Bloom: "Indeed yes."
  • Ned Lambert: "How are you, Simon? softly, clasping hands. Haven't seen you for ages."
  • Dedalus: "Never better. How are all in Cork's own town?"
  • Ned Lambert: "I was down there for the Cork park races on Easter Monday."
  • Dedalus: "And how is Dick, the solid man?"
  • Ned Lambert: "Nothing between himself and heaven."
  • Dedalus: "By the holy Paul! in subdued wonder. Dick Tivy bald?"
  • Ned Lambert: "Martin is going to get up a whip for the youngsters, pointing to the children."
  • Dedalus: "Yes, yes, dubiously. Is that the eldest boy in front?"
  • Ned Lambert: "Yes, with the wife's brother. John Henry Menton is behind. He put down his name for a quid."
  • Dedalus: "I'll engage he did. I often told poor Paddy he ought to mind that job."
  • Ned Lambert: "How did he lose it? Liquor, what?"
  • Dedalus: "Many a good man's fault, with a sigh."
  • Dedalus: "The O'Connell circle, about him."
  • Dedalus: "He's at rest, in the middle of his people, old Dan O'. But his heart is buried in Rome."
  • Dedalus: "Her grave is over there, Jack. I'll soon be stretched beside her."
  • Power: "She's better where she is, kindly."
  • Dedalus: "I suppose so, with a weak gasp. I suppose she is in heaven if there is a heaven."
  • Kernan: "Sad occasions, began politely."
  • Kernan: "The others are putting on their hats. I suppose we can do so too."
  • Kernan: "The reverend gentleman read the service too quickly, don't you think?"
  • Kernan: "The service of the Irish church used in Mount Jerome is simpler, more impressive, I must say."
  • Kernan: "I am the resurrection and the life. That touches a man's inmost heart."
  • Bloom: "It does."
  • Kernan: "Everything went off A1. What?"
  • Kernan: "As it should be."
  • Corny Kelleher: "What? Eh?"
  • John Henry Menton: "Who is that chap behind with Tom Kernan? I can't see."
  • Ned Lambert: "Bloom, Madame Marion Tweedy that was, is, I mean, the soprano."
  • John Henry Menton: "O, to be sure. I haven't seen her for some time."
  • John Henry Menton: "What is he? What does he do? Wasn't he in the stationery line?"
  • Ned Lambert: "Yes, he was, in Wisdom Hely's. A traveller for blottingpaper."
  • John Henry Menton: "In God's name, what did she marry a coon like that for?"
  • Ned Lambert: "Has still. He does some canvassing for ads."
  • Power: "John O'Connell, pleased. He never forgets a friend."
  • Caretaker: "I am come to pay you another visit."
  • Caretaker: "My dear Simon, answered in a low voice. I don't want to be importunate, but..."
  • Caretaker: "Did you hear that one, he asked them, about Mulcahy from the Coombe?"
  • Martin Cunningham: "I did not."
  • Caretaker: "They tell the story, that two drunks came out here one foggy evening to look for a friend's grave."
  • Caretaker: "And, after blinking up at the sacred figure, Not a bloody bit like him, says they."
  • Martin Cunningham: "That's all done with a purpose, explained to Hynes."
  • Hynes: "I know. I know that."
  • Martin Cunningham: "To cheer a fellow up. It's pure mockery."
  • Caretaker: "How many have you for tomorrow?"
  • Corny Kelleher: "Two. Half ten and eleven."
  • Hynes: "I am just taking the names, below his breath. What is your christian name? I'm not sure."
  • Bloom: "L. Leopold. And you might put down M'Coy's name too. He asked me to."
  • Hynes: "Charley, writing. I know. He was on the Freeman once."
  • Hynes: "And tell us, do you know that fellow in the, fellow was in the, er..."
  • Bloom: "Macintosh. Yes, I saw him. Where is he now?"
  • Hynes: "M'Intosh, scribbling. I don't know who he is. Is that his name?"
  • Bloom: "No, turning and stopping. I say, Hynes!"
  • Hynes: "O, excuse me!"
  • Hynes: "Let us go round by the chief's grave. We have time."
  • Power: "Let us."
  • Hynes: "Some say he is not in that grave at all. That the coffin was filled with stones."
  • Hynes: "Parnell will never come again. He's there, all that was mortal of him."
  • Bloom: "Excuse me, sir, beside them."
  • Bloom: "Your hat is a little crushed, pointing."
  • Martin Cunningham: "There, helped, pointing also."
  • Martin Cunningham: "It's all right now."
  • John Henry Menton: "Thank you, shortly."

Chapter 7 - Aeolus

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Setting: The newspaper office of the Freeman's Journal.

Dialogue:

  • Voice: "Rathgar and Terenure!"
  • Voice: "Come on, Sandymount Green!"
  • Voice: "Start, Palmerston Park!"
  • Red Murray: "There it is. Alexander Keyes."
  • Bloom: "Just cut it out, will you? and I'll take it round to the Telegraph."
  • Bloom: "I'll go through the printingworks, taking the cut."
  • Red Murray: "Of course, if he wants a par, earnestly, a pen behind his ear."
  • Bloom: "Right, with a nod. I'll rub that in."
  • Red Murray: "Brayden."
  • Red Murray: "Don't you think his face is like Our Saviour? whispered."
  • Bloom: "Or like Mario."
  • Red Murray: "Yes. But Mario was said to be the picture of Our Saviour."
  • Red Murray: "His grace phoned down twice this morning, gravely."
  • Red Murray: "Well, he is one of our saviours also."
  • Hynes: "Well, get it into the evening edition, councillor."
  • Hynes: "Right: thanks, moving off."
  • Red Murray: "If you want to draw the cashier is just going to lunch, he said."
  • Hynes: "Did you?"
  • Bloom: "Mm. Look sharp and you'll catch him."
  • Hynes: "Thanks, old man. I'll tap him too."
  • Bloom: "Excuse me, councillor. This ad, you see. Keyes, you remember?"
  • Bloom: "He wants it in for July."
  • Bloom: "But wait. He wants it changed. Keyes, you see. He wants two keys at the top."
  • Bloom: "Like that, crossing his forefingers at the top."
  • Bloom: "Like that, see. Two crossed keys here. A circle. Then here the name."
  • Bloom: "You know yourself, councillor, just what he wants. Then round the top in leaded caps the house of keys."
  • Bloom: "The idea, is the house of keys. You know, councillor, the Manx parliament."
  • Foreman: "We can do that. Have you the design?"
  • Bloom: "I can get it. It was in a Kilkenny paper. He has a house there too."
  • Foreman: "We can do that. Let him give us a three months' renewal."
  • Red Murray: "Wait. Where's the archbishop's letter? It's to be repeated in the Telegraph."
  • Voice: "Monks, sir? asked from the castingbox."
  • Red Murray: "Ay. Where's Monks?"
  • Red Murray: "Monks!"
  • Bloom: "Then I'll get the design, Mr Nannetti, and you'll give it a good place I know."
  • Red Murray: "Monks!"
  • Monks: "Yes, sir."
  • Professor MacHugh: "The ghost walks, murmured softly, biscuitfully to himself."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Agonising Christ, wouldn't it give you a heartburn on your arse?"
  • Professor MacHugh: "Or again, note the meanderings of some purling rill as it babbles on its way."
  • Dedalus: "Changing his drink."
  • Professor MacHugh: "The pensive bosom and the overarsing leafage. O boys! O boys!"
  • Dedalus: "And Xenophon looked upon Marathon, looking again on the mirror."
  • Professor MacHugh: "That will do, cried from the window. I don't want to hear any more of that stuff."
  • Ned Lambert: "Just another spasm."
  • Bloom: "What is it?"
  • Professor MacHugh: "A recently discovered fragment of Cicero, answered with a mouthful of biscuit."
  • Bloom: "Whose land?"
  • Professor MacHugh: "Most pertinent question, between his chews. With an accent on the whose."
  • Dedalus: "Dan Dawson's land."
  • Bloom: "Is it his speech last night?"
  • Professor MacHugh: "But listen to this."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Excuse me, entering."
  • Professor MacHugh: "I beg yours."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Good day, Jack."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Come in. Come in."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Good day."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "How are you, Dedalus?"
  • Dedalus: "Well. And yourself?"
  • Professor MacHugh: "Or again if we but climb the serried mountain peaks."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "You're looking extra."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Is the editor to be seen? looking towards the inner door."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Very much so. To be seen and heard. He's in his sanctum with Lenehan."
  • Ned Lambert: "Ah, listen to this for God' sake. Or again if we but climb the serried mountain peaks."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Bombast! broke in testily. Enough of the inflated stuff."
  • Ned Lambert: "Peaks, went on, towering high on high, to bathe our souls, as it were..."
  • Dedalus: "Bathe his lips. Blessed and eternal God! Yes? Is he dead?"
  • Professor MacHugh: "The moon. He forgot Hamlet."
  • Dedalus: "O! giving vent to a hopeless groan. Shite and onions!"
  • Dedalus: "Doughy Daw!"
  • Professor MacHugh: "What is it?"
  • Professor MacHugh: "And here comes the sham squire himself! said, pointing to the editor."
  • Myles Crawford: "Getonouthat, you bloody old pedagogue! said in recognition."
  • Dedalus: "Come, Ned, putting on his hat. I must get a drink somewhere."
  • Myles Crawford: "Drink! cried. No drinks served before mass."
  • Dedalus: "Quite right too, going out. Come on, Ned."
  • Ned Lambert: "Will you join us, Myles?"
  • Myles Crawford: "North Cork militia! cried, striding to the mantelpiece. We fought every day."
  • Ned Lambert: "Where was that, Myles? asked with a reflective glance at his toecaps."
  • Myles Crawford: "In Ohio! shouted."
  • Ned Lambert: "So it was, begad."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Incipient jigs. Sad case."
  • Myles Crawford: "Ohio! crowed in high treble from his uplifted scarlet face."
  • Professor MacHugh: "A perfect cretic! Long, short and long."
  • Myles Crawford: "Bingbang, bangbang."
  • Bloom: "Just a moment, Mr Crawford. I just want to phone about an ad."
  • Professor MacHugh: "What about that leader this evening? coming forward."
  • Myles Crawford: "That'll be all right, more calmly. Never you fret."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Good day, Myles, letting the pages he held slip to the floor."
  • Myles Crawford: "Twentyeight... No, twenty... Double four... Yes."
  • Myles Crawford: "Who wants a dead cert for the Gold cup? Sceptre with O. Madden."
  • Lenehan: "Hush. I hear feetstoops."
  • Newsboy: "It wasn't me, sir. It was the big fellow shoved me, sir."
  • Myles Crawford: "Throw him out and shut the door. There's a hurricane blowing."
  • Newsboy: "Waiting for the racing special, sir. It was Pat Farrell shoved me, sir."
  • Myles Crawford: "Him, sir."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Out of this with you, gruffly."
  • Voice: "Continued on page six, column four."
  • Bloom: "Yes, Evening Telegraph here, phoned from the inner office."
  • Lenehan: "Pardon, monsieur, clutching him for an instant and making a grimace."
  • Bloom: "My fault, suffering his grip. Are you hurt? I'm in a hurry."
  • Lenehan: "Knee."
  • Professor MacHugh: "The accumulation of the anno Domini."
  • Bloom: "Sorry."
  • Bloom: "I'm just running round to Bachelor's walk, about this ad."
  • Myles Crawford: "Begone! The world is before you."
  • Bloom: "Back in no time, hurrying out."
  • Professor MacHugh: "He'll get that advertisement, staring through his spectacles."
  • Lenehan: "Show. Where? cried, running to the window."
  • Lenehan: "Look at the young guttersnipe behind him hue and cry, pointing."
  • Myles Crawford: "What's that? with a start. Where are the other two gone?"
  • Professor MacHugh: "Who? turning. They're gone round to the Oval for a drink."
  • Myles Crawford: "Come on then. Where's my hat?"
  • Professor MacHugh: "He's pretty well on, in a low voice."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Seems to be, taking out a cigarettecase in a leisurely way."
  • Lenehan: "Thanky vous, helping himself."
  • Myles Crawford: "Eh? You bloody old Roman empire?"
  • Lenehan: "Silence for my brandnew riddle!"
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Imperium romanum, gently. It sounds nobler than British empire."
  • Lenehan: "That's it. We are the fat. You and I are the fat in the fire."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Wait a moment, raising two quiet claws. We mustn't be led away by words, by sounds of words."
  • Professor MacHugh: "What was their civilisation? Vast, I allow: but vile. Cloacae: sewers."
  • Lenehan: "Which they accordingly did do. Our old ancient ancestors, as we read in the first chapter of Guinness's, were partial to the running stream."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "They were nature's gentlemen, murmured. But we have the Roman law."
  • Professor MacHugh: "And Pontius Pilate is its prophet, responded."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Do you know that story about chief baron Palles?"
  • Lenehan: "First my riddle. Are you ready?"
  • Lenehan: "Entrez, mes enfants! cried."
  • Mr O'Madden Burke: "I escort a suppliant, melodiously. Youth led by Experience visits Notoriety."
  • Myles Crawford: "How do you do? the editor said, holding out a hand. Come in. Your governor is just gone."
  • Lenehan: "Silence! What opera resembles a railwayline? Reflect, ponder, excogitate, reply."
  • Myles Crawford: "Who?"
  • Stephen: "Mr Garrett Deasy."
  • Myles Crawford: "That old pelters. Who tore it? Was he short taken?"
  • Professor MacHugh: "Good day, Stephen, coming to peer over their shoulders. The letter is not mine. Mr Garrett Deasy wrote it."
  • Stephen: "Good day, sir, blushing. The letter is not mine. Mr Garrett Deasy asked me to..."
  • Myles Crawford: "O, I know him, and I knew his wife too. The bloodiest old tartar God ever made."
  • Stephen: "Is he a widower?"
  • Myles Crawford: "Ay, a grass one, his eye running down the letter."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "The moot point is did he forget it, quietly, or did he not?"
  • Myles Crawford: "And if not?"
  • Myles Crawford: "I'll tell you how it was. A Hungarian it was one day..."
  • Professor MacHugh: "We were always loyal to lost causes. Success for us is the death of the intellect and of the imagination."
  • Professor MacHugh: "The Greek! again. Kyrios! Shining word! The vowels the Semite and the Saxon know not."
  • Mr O'Madden Burke: "They went forth to battle, greyly, but they always fell."
  • Lenehan: "Boohoo! wept with a little noise. Owing to a brick received in the latter half of the matinée."
  • Professor MacHugh: "There's a ponderous pundit MacHugh for you!"
  • Myles Crawford: "That'll be all right. I'll read the rest after. That'll be all right."
  • Lenehan: "But my riddle! What opera is like a railwayline?"
  • Mr O'Madden Burke: "Opera? sphinx face reriddled."
  • Lenehan: "The Rose of Castile. See the wheeze? Rows of cast steel. Gee!"
  • Lenehan: "Help! sighed. I feel a strong weakness."
  • Myles Crawford: "Paris, past and present. You look like communards."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Like fellows who had blown up the Bastile, in a quiet tone."
  • Stephen: "We were only thinking about it."
  • Myles Crawford: "All the talents. Law, the classics..."
  • Lenehan: "The turf."
  • Myles Crawford: "Literature, the press."
  • Professor MacHugh: "If Bloom were here. The gentle art of advertisement."
  • Mr O'Madden Burke: "And Madam Bloom. The vocal muse. Dublin's prime favourite."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Ahem! very softly. O, for a fresh of breath air! I caught a cold in the park."
  • Myles Crawford: "I want you to write something for me. Something with a bite in it."
  • Myles Crawford: "Foot and mouth disease! cried in scornful invective. Great scourge of our time."
  • Mr O'Madden Burke: "We can all supply mental pabulum."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "He wants you for the pressgang."
  • Myles Crawford: "You can do it, repeated, clenching his hand in emphasis."
  • Myles Crawford: "Look at here, turning. The New York World cabled for a special."
  • Myles Crawford: "New York World, excitedly pushing back his straw hat. Where the deuce did they hear of it?"
  • Mr O'Madden Burke: "Skin-the-Goat. Fitzharris. He has that cabman's shelter."
  • Myles Crawford: "Hop and carry one, is it?"
  • Mr O'Madden Burke: "And poor Gumley is down there too, so he told me, minding stones for the corporation."
  • Myles Crawford: "Gumley? You don't say so? A friend of my father's, is it?"
  • Myles Crawford: "Never mind Gumley, cried angrily. Let Gumley mind the stones."
  • Myles Crawford: "Take page four, advertisement for Bransome's coffee, let us say. Have you seen it?"
  • Professor MacHugh: "I'll answer it, going."
  • Myles Crawford: "B is parkgate. Good."
  • Myles Crawford: "T is viceregal lodge. C is where murder took place. K is Knockmaroon gate."
  • Bloom: "Hello? Evening Telegraph here... Hello?... Who's there?... Yes..."
  • Myles Crawford: "F to P is the route Skin-the-Goat drove the car for an alibi."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Bloom is at the telephone, he said."
  • Myles Crawford: "Tell him go to hell, promptly. X is Davy's publichouse."
  • Lenehan: "Clever. Very."
  • Myles Crawford: "Gave it to them on a hot plate, the whole bloody history."
  • Myles Crawford: "I saw it, proudly. I was present. Dick Adams, the besthearted bloody Corkman God ever put on the earth."
  • Myles Crawford: "Madam, I'm Adam. And Able was I ere I saw Elba."
  • Myles Crawford: "History! cried. The Old Woman of Prince's street was there first."
  • Lenehan: "The father of scare journalism, confirmed, and the brother of the great writer of our time."
  • Bloom: "Hello?... Are you there?... Yes, he's here still. Come across and have a..."
  • Myles Crawford: "Where do you find a pressman like that now, eh? cried."
  • Lenehan: "Clamn dever, to Mr O'Madden Burke."
  • Mr O'Madden Burke: "Very smart."
  • Myles Crawford: "Talking about the invincibles, did you see that some hawkers were up before the recorder..."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "O yes, eagerly. Lady Dudley was walking home through the park to see all the trees that were blown down by that cyclone last year."
  • Myles Crawford: "They're only in the hook and eye department."
  • Mr O'Madden Burke: "Speak up for yourself."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "My dear Myles, flinging his cigarette aside, you put a false construction on my words."
  • Myles Crawford: "Grattan and Flood wrote for this very paper, cried in his rich baritone of ridicule."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Well, Bushe K.C., for example."
  • Myles Crawford: "Bushe? Well, yes: Bushe, yes. He has a strain of it in his blood."
  • Professor MacHugh: "He would have been on the bench long ago, only for..."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "One of the most polished periods I think I ever listened to in my life was Fitzgibbon's."
  • Professor MacHugh: "What was that?"
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "He spoke on the law of evidence, of Roman justice as contrasted with the earlier Mosaic code, the lex talionis."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Ha."
  • Lenehan: "A few wellchosen words, prefaced. Silence!"
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "He said of it: that stony effigy in frozen music, horned and terrible, of the human form divine, that eternal symbol of wisdom and prophecy which, if aught that the imagination or the hand of sculptor has wrought in marble of soultransfigured and of soultransfiguring deserves to live, deserves to live."
  • Myles Crawford: "Fine! at once."
  • Mr O'Madden Burke: "The divine afflatus."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "You like it? asked Stephen."
  • Stephen: "Muchibus thankibus."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Professor Magennis was speaking to me about you."
  • Professor MacHugh: "No, thanks, waving the cigarettecase aside."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "You know Gerald Fitzgibbon. Then you can imagine the style of his mind."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "He is sitting with Tim Healy, rumour has it, on the Trinity estates to purchase a small property."
  • Myles Crawford: "He is sitting with a sweet thing, in a child's coffined chair."
  • Professor MacHugh: "It was the speech, mark you, of a finished orator, full of courteous haughtiness and pouring in chastened diction, I will not say the vials of his wrath but pouring the proud man's contumely upon the new movement."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Taylor had come there, you must know, from a sickbed. That he had prepared his speech I do not believe for there was not even one shorthandwriter in the hall."
  • Professor MacHugh: "When Fitzgibbon's speech had ended John F Taylor rose to reply."
  • Professor MacHugh: "And yet he died without having entered the land of promise."
  • Professor MacHugh: "A—sudden—at—the—moment—though—from—lingering—illness—often—previously—expectorated—demise."
  • Professor MacHugh: "That is oratory, uncontradicted."
  • Stephen: "Gentlemen. As the next motion on the agenda paper may I suggest that the house do now adjourn?"
  • Myles Crawford: "You take my breath away. It is not perchance a French compliment?"
  • Stephen: "That it be and hereby is resolutely resolved. All that are in favour say ay, contrary minded no."
  • Professor MacHugh: "We will sternly refuse to partake of strong waters, will we not? Yes. We will not."
  • Stephen: "Lay on, Macduff!"
  • Myles Crawford: "Chip of the old block! cried, clapping Stephen on the shoulder."
  • Myles Crawford: "Foot and mouth. I know. That'll be all right. That'll go in. Where are you going?"
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "I hope you will live to see it published. Myles, one moment."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Come along, Stephen. That is fine, isn't it? It has the prophetic vision."
  • Voice: "Racing special!"
  • Stephen: "I have a vision too."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Yes? skipping to get into step. Crawford will arrange it."
  • Voice: "Racing special!"
  • Stephen: "Two Dublin vestals, elderly and pious, have lived fifty and fiftythree years in Fumbally's lane."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Where is that?"
  • Stephen: "Off Blackpitts."
  • Stephen: "They want to see the views of Dublin from the top of Nelson's pillar."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Wise virgins."
  • Stephen: "They buy one and fourpenceworth of brawn and four slices of panloaf at the north city dining rooms in Marlborough street from Miss Kate Collins, proprietress..."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Antithesis, nodding twice. Vestal virgins. I can see them."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Come along, cried, waving his arm."
  • Stephen: "Yes. I see them."
  • Myles Crawford: "Mr Crawford! A moment!"
  • Voice: "Telegraph! Racing special!"
  • Myles Crawford: "What is it? falling back a pace."
  • Voice: "Terrible tragedy in Rathmines! A child bit by a bellows!"
  • Bloom: "Just this ad, pushing through towards the steps."
  • Myles Crawford: "Will you tell him he can kiss my arse? throwing his straw hat on the table."
  • Bloom: "Well, his eyes returning, if I can get the design I think it'll be all right."
  • Myles Crawford: "He can kiss my royal Irish arse, cried loudly over his shoulder."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Nulla bona, Jack, raising his hand to his chin. I'm up to here."
  • Stephen: "When they have eaten the brawn and the bread and wiped their twenty fingers in the paper napkin ringed with guineas, they go nearer to the railings."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Something for you, explained to Myles Crawford. Two old Dublin women on the top of Nelson's pillar."
  • Myles Crawford: "That's new. That's copy. Out for the waxies' Dargle."
  • Stephen: "But they are afraid the pillar will fall. They see the roofs and argue about where the different churches are: Rathmines' blue dome, Adam and Eve's, saint Laurence O'Toole's."
  • Myles Crawford: "Easy all. No poetic licence. We're in the Freeman."
  • Stephen: "And settle down on their striped petticoats, peering up at the statue of the onehandled adulterer."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Onehandled adulterer! I like that. I see the idea."
  • Stephen: "It gives them a crick in their necks, and they are too tired to look up or down or to speak."
  • Myles Crawford: "Finished? So long as they do no worse."
  • Professor MacHugh: "You remind me of Antisthenes, a disciple of Gorgias, the sophist."
  • Myles Crawford: "But what do you call it? Where did they get the plums?"
  • Professor MacHugh: "Call it, wait, opening his long lips wide to reflect. Call it, let me see."
  • Stephen: "No. I call it A Pisgah Sight of Palestine or The Parable of The Plums."
  • Professor MacHugh: "I see."
  • Professor MacHugh: "I see, again with new pleasure. Moses and the promised land."
  • Professor MacHugh: "I see."
  • Professor MacHugh: "Onehandled adulterer, smiling grimly. That tickles me, I must say."
  • Myles Crawford: "Tickled the old ones too, if the God Almighty's truth was known."

Chapter 8 - Lestrygonians

↑ Back to Gilbert's Table

Setting: Bloom's lunchtime wanderings through Dublin, seeking food.

Dialogue:

  • Street Vendor: "Two apples a penny! Two for a penny!"
  • Mrs Breen: "O, Mr Bloom, how do you do?"
  • Bloom: "O, how do you do, Mrs Breen?"
  • Mrs Breen: "No use complaining. How is Molly those times? Haven't seen her for ages."
  • Bloom: "In the pink, Mr Bloom said gaily. Milly has a position down in Mullingar."
  • Mrs Breen: "Go away! Isn't that grand for her?"
  • Bloom: "Yes. In a photographer's there. Getting on like a house on fire. How are all your charges?"
  • Mrs Breen: "All on the baker's list, Mrs Breen said."
  • Mrs Breen: "You're in black, I see. You have no..."
  • Bloom: "No, Mr Bloom said. I have just come from a funeral."
  • Mrs Breen: "O, dear me, Mrs Breen said. I hope it wasn't any near relation."
  • Bloom: "Dignam, Mr Bloom said. An old friend of mine. He died quite suddenly, poor fellow. Heart trouble, I believe."
  • Mrs Breen: "Sad to lose the old friends, Mrs Breen's womaneyes said melancholily."
  • Bloom: "And your lord and master?"
  • Mrs Breen: "O, don't be talking! she said. He's a caution to rattlesnakes. He's in there now with his lawbooks finding out the law of libel. He has me heartscalded."
  • Mrs Breen: "There must be a new moon out, she said. He's always bad then. Do you know what he did last night?"
  • Bloom: "What? Mr Bloom asked."
  • Mrs Breen: "Woke me up in the night, she said. Dream he had, a nightmare."
  • Mrs Breen: "Said the ace of spades was walking up the stairs."
  • Bloom: "The ace of spades! Mr Bloom said."
  • Mrs Breen: "Read that, she said. He got it this morning."
  • Bloom: "What is it? Mr Bloom asked, taking the card. U. P.?"
  • Mrs Breen: "U. p: up, she said. Someone taking a rise out of him. It's a great shame for them whoever he is."
  • Bloom: "Indeed it is, Mr Bloom said."
  • Mrs Breen: "And now he's going round to Mr Menton's office. He's going to take an action for ten thousand pounds, he says."
  • Bloom: "Do you ever see anything of Mrs Beaufoy? Mr Bloom asked."
  • Mrs Breen: "Mina Purefoy? she said."
  • Bloom: "Yes."
  • Mrs Breen: "I just called to ask on the way in is she over it. She's in the lying-in hospital in Holles street. Dr Horne got her in. She's three days bad now."
  • Bloom: "O, Mr Bloom said. I'm sorry to hear that."
  • Mrs Breen: "Yes, Mrs Breen said. And a houseful of kids at home. It's a very stiff birth, the nurse told me."
  • Bloom: "O, Mr Bloom said."
  • Bloom: "I'm sorry to hear that, he said. Poor thing! Three days! That's terrible for her."
  • Mrs Breen: "She was taken bad on the Tuesday..."
  • Constable: "Mind! Let this man pass."
  • Bloom: "Watch him, Mr Bloom said. He always walks outside the lampposts."
  • Mrs Breen: "Who is he if it's a fair question? Mrs Breen asked. Is he dotty?"
  • Bloom: "His name is Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, Mr Bloom said smiling. Watch!"
  • Mrs Breen: "He has enough of them, she said. Denis will be like that one of these days."
  • Mrs Breen: "There he is, she said. I must go after him. Goodbye. Remember me to Molly, won't you?"
  • Bloom: "I will, Mr Bloom said."
  • Boys: "Up the Boers!"
  • Boys: "Three cheers for De Wet!"
  • Boys: "We'll hang Joe Chamberlain on a sourapple tree."
  • Man: "Are those yours, Mary?"
  • Mary: "I don't wear such things... Stop or I'll tell the missus on you. Out of that, you little monkey!"
  • Man: "There are great times coming, Mary. Wait till you see."
  • Mary: "Ah, gelong with your great times coming."
  • Bloom: "Of the twoheaded octopus, one of whose heads is the head upon which the ends of the world have forgotten to come while the other speaks with a Scotch accent."
  • Woman: "Jack, love!"
  • Man: "Darling!"
  • Woman: "Kiss me, Reggy!"
  • Man: "My boy!"
  • Woman: "Love!"
  • Various Customers: "Roast beef and cabbage."
  • Various Customers: "One stew."
  • Various Customers: "Two stouts here."
  • Various Customers: "One corned and cabbage."
  • Various Customers: "Not here. Don't see him."
  • Various Customers: "Roast and mashed here."
  • Various Customers: "Pint of stout."
  • Nosey Flynn: "Hello, Bloom, Nosey Flynn said from his nook."
  • Bloom: "Hello, Flynn."
  • Nosey Flynn: "How's things?"
  • Bloom: "Tiptop... Let me see. I'll take a glass of burgundy and... let me see."
  • Bloom: "Have you a cheese sandwich?"
  • Davy Byrne: "Yes, sir."
  • Nosey Flynn: "Wife well?"
  • Bloom: "Quite well, thanks... A cheese sandwich, then. Gorgonzola, have you?"
  • Davy Byrne: "Yes, sir."
  • Nosey Flynn: "Doing any singing those times?"
  • Bloom: "She's engaged for a big tour end of this month. You may have heard perhaps."
  • Nosey Flynn: "No. O, that's the style. Who's getting it up?"
  • Bloom: "How much is that?"
  • Davy Byrne: "Seven d., sir... Thank you, sir."
  • Davy Byrne: "Mustard, sir?"
  • Bloom: "Thank you."
  • Nosey Flynn: "Getting it up? he said. Well, it's like a company idea, you see. Part shares and part profits."
  • Nosey Flynn: "Ay, now I remember, Nosey Flynn said, putting his hand in his pocket to scratch his groin. Who's this was telling me? Isn't Blazes Boylan mixed up in it?"
  • Bloom: "Yes, he said. He's the organiser in point of fact."
  • Nosey Flynn: "He had a good slice of luck, Jack Mooney was telling me, over that boxing match Myler Keogh won again that soldier in the Portobello barracks."
  • Nosey Flynn: "For near a month, man, before it came off. Sucking duck eggs by God till further orders. Keep him off the boose, see?"
  • Nosey Flynn: "And here's himself and pepper on him, Nosey Flynn said. Can you give us a good one for the Gold cup?"
  • Davy Byrne: "I'm off that, Mr Flynn, Davy Byrne answered. I never put anything on a horse."
  • Nosey Flynn: "You're right there, Nosey Flynn said."
  • Davy Byrne: "I wouldn't do anything at all in that line, Davy Byrne said. It ruined many a man the same horses."
  • Nosey Flynn: "True for you, Nosey Flynn said. Unless you're in the know. There's no straight sport going now."
  • Davy Byrne: "That so? Davy Byrne said..."
  • Nosey Flynn: "I could, faith, Nosey Flynn said, snuffling. That was a rare bit of horseflesh. Saint Frusquin was her sire."
  • Nosey Flynn: "Ay, he said, sighing."
  • Davy Byrne: "What is this he is? Isn't he in the insurance line?"
  • Nosey Flynn: "He's out of that long ago, Nosey Flynn said. He does canvassing for the Freeman."
  • Davy Byrne: "I know him well to see, Davy Byrne said. Is he in trouble?"
  • Nosey Flynn: "Trouble? Nosey Flynn said. Not that I heard of. Why?"
  • Davy Byrne: "I noticed he was in mourning."
  • Nosey Flynn: "Was he? Nosey Flynn said. So he was, faith. I asked him how was all at home. You're right, by God. So he was."
  • Davy Byrne: "I never broach the subject, Davy Byrne said humanely, if I see a gentleman is in trouble that way. It only brings it up fresh in their minds."
  • Nosey Flynn: "It's not the wife anyhow, Nosey Flynn said. I met him the day before yesterday and he coming out of that Irish farm dairy John Wyse Nolan's wife has in Henry street with a jar of cream in his hand taking it home to his better half."
  • Davy Byrne: "And is he doing for the Freeman? Davy Byrne said."
  • Nosey Flynn: "He doesn't buy cream on the ads he picks up. You can make bacon of that."
  • Davy Byrne: "How so? Davy Byrne asked, coming from his book."
  • Nosey Flynn: "He's in the craft, he said."
  • Davy Byrne: "Do you tell me so? Davy Byrne said."
  • Nosey Flynn: "Very much so, Nosey Flynn said. Ancient free and accepted order. He's an excellent brother."
  • Davy Byrne: "Is that a fact?"
  • Nosey Flynn: "O, it's a fine order, Nosey Flynn said. They stick to you when you're down."
  • Bantam Lyons: "Iiiiiichaaaaaaach!"
  • Nosey Flynn: "There was one woman, Nosey Flynn said, hid herself in a clock to find out what they do be doing."
  • Davy Byrne: "And is that a fact? Decent quiet man he is. I often saw him in here and I never once saw him, you know, over the line."
  • Nosey Flynn: "God Almighty couldn't make him drunk, Nosey Flynn said firmly. Slips off when the fun gets too hot."
  • Davy Byrne: "There are some like that, Davy Byrne said. He's a safe man, I'd say."
  • Nosey Flynn: "He's not too bad, Nosey Flynn said, snuffling it up. He's been known to put his hand down too to help a fellow."
  • Davy Byrne: "I know, Davy Byrne said."
  • Nosey Flynn: "Nothing in black and white, Nosey Flynn said."
  • Bantam Lyons: "Day, Mr Byrne."
  • Davy Byrne: "Day, gentlemen."
  • Paddy Leonard: "Who's standing? Paddy Leonard asked."
  • Nosey Flynn: "I'm sitting anyhow, Nosey Flynn answered."
  • Paddy Leonard: "Well, what'll it be? Paddy Leonard asked."
  • Bantam Lyons: "I'll take a stone ginger, Bantam Lyons said."
  • Paddy Leonard: "How much? Paddy Leonard cried. Since when, for God' sake? What's yours?"
  • Nosey Flynn: "How is the main drainage? Nosey Flynn asked, sipping."
  • Bantam Lyons: "Would I trouble you for a glass of fresh water, Mr Byrne? he said."
  • Davy Byrne: "Certainly, sir."
  • Bantam Lyons: "Lord love a duck, he said. Look at what I'm standing drinks to! Cold water and gingerpop! Some fellows have all the luck."
  • Nosey Flynn: "Zinfandel is it? Nosey Flynn asked."
  • Bantam Lyons: "That cursed dyspepsia, he said before drinking."
  • Davy Byrne: "Breadsoda is very good, Davy Byrne said."
  • Bantam Lyons: "Is it Zinfandel?"
  • Bantam Lyons: "Say nothing! Bantam Lyons winked. I'm going to plunge five bob on my own."
  • Paddy Leonard: "Tell us if you're worth your salt and be damned to you, Paddy Leonard said."
  • Nosey Flynn: "So long! Nosey Flynn said."
  • Bantam Lyons: "That's the man now that gave it to me, Bantam Lyons whispered."
  • Paddy Leonard: "Prrwht! Paddy Leonard said with scorn. Mr Byrne, sir, we'll take two of your small Jamesons after that and a..."
  • Davy Byrne: "Stone ginger, Davy Byrne added civilly."
  • Paddy Leonard: "Ay, Paddy Leonard said. A suckingbottle for the baby."
  • Bantam Lyons: "A cenar teco."
  • Bloom: "Do you want to cross? Mr Bloom asked."
  • Bloom: "You're in Dawson street, Mr Bloom said. Molesworth street is opposite."
  • Bloom: "There's a van there, Mr Bloom said, but it's not moving. I'll see you across. Do you want to go to Molesworth street?"
  • Young Man: "Yes, the stripling answered. South Frederick street."
  • Bloom: "Come, Mr Bloom said."
  • Young Man: "The rain kept off."
  • Young Man: "Thanks, sir."
  • Bloom: "Right now? First turn to the left."

Chapter 9 - Scylla and Charybdis

↑ Back to Gilbert's Table

Setting: The National Library, where Stephen discusses his theory about Shakespeare.

Dialogue:

  • Best: "And we have, have we not, those priceless pages of Wilhelm Meister."
  • Best: "Directly, said he, creaking to go, albeit lingering. The beautiful ineffectual dreamer who comes to grief against hard facts."
  • Stephen: "Monsieur de la Palice, Stephen sneered, was alive fifteen minutes before his death."
  • John Eglinton: "Have you found those six brave medicals, John Eglinton asked with elder's gall, to write Paradise Lost at my dictation? The Sorrows of Satan he calls it."
  • Stephen: "I feel you would need one more for Hamlet. Seven is dear to the mystical mind. The shining seven W.B. calls them."
  • John Eglinton: "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 this side idolatry."
  • Russell: "All these questions are purely academic, Russell oracled out of his shadow. I mean, whether Hamlet is Shakespeare or James I or Essex. Clergymen's discussions of the historicity of Jesus. Art has to reveal to us ideas, formless spiritual essences. The supreme question about a work of art is out of how deep a life does it spring. The painting of Gustave Moreau is the painting of ideas. The deepest poetry of Shelley, the words of Hamlet bring our mind into contact with the eternal wisdom, Plato's world of ideas. All the rest is the speculation of schoolboys for schoolboys."
  • Stephen: "The schoolmen were schoolboys first, Stephen said superpolitely."
  • John Eglinton: "And has remained so, one should hope, John Eglinton sedately said. One feels that one is listening to a thought-tormented music."
  • Stephen: "That model schoolboy, Stephen said, would find Hamlet's musings about the afterlife of his soul the inferior, unskilful play of a junior hand."
  • John Eglinton: "Upon my word it makes my blood boil to hear anyone compare Aristotle with Plato."
  • Stephen: "Which of the two, Stephen asked, would have banished me from his commonwealth?"
  • Best: "Haines is gone, he said."
  • Stephen: "Is he?"
  • Best: "I was showing him Jubainville's book. He's quite enthusiastic, don't you know, about the correspondence of the Celtic and the Semitic."
  • John Eglinton: "The peatsmoke is going to his head, John Eglinton opined."
  • Stephen: "People do not know how dangerous lovesongs can be, the auric egg of Russell warns occultly. The movements which work revolutions in the world are born out of the dreams and visions in a peasant's heart on the hillside. For those the earth is not an exploitable ground but the living mother. The rarefied air of the academy and the arena produce the sixshilling novel, the musichall song. France produces the finest flower of corruption in Mallarmé but the desirable life is revealed only to the poor of heart, the life of Homer's Phaeacians."
  • Best: "Mallarmé, don't you know, he said, has written those wonderful prose poems Stephen MacKenna used to read to me in Paris. The one about Hamlet. He says: il se promène, lisant au livre de lui-même, don't you know, reading the book of himself. He describes Hamlet given in a French town, don't you know, a provincial town. They advertised it."
  • Stephen: "Pièce de Shakespeare, don't you know. It's so French. The French point of view. Hamlet is... so... French."
  • Best: "The absentminded beggar, Stephen ended."
  • John Eglinton: "Yes, I suppose it would be, he said. Excellent people, no doubt, but distressing to the feelings."
  • Stephen: "A deathsman of the soul Robert Greene called him, Stephen said. Not for nothing was he a butcher's son wielding the sledded poleaxe and spitting in his palm. Nine lives are taken off for his father's one, Our Father who art in purgatory. Khaki Hamlets don't hesitate to shoot. The bloodboltered shambles in act five is a forecast of the concentration camp sung by Mr Swinburne."
  • John Eglinton: "He will have it that Hamlet is a ghoststory, John Eglinton said for Mr Best's behoof. Like the small boy in the street who says it is a ghoststory. But Hamlet is so personal, isn't it? Mr Best pleaded. I mean, a kind of private paper, don't you know, of his private life."
  • Stephen: "What is a ghost? Stephen said with tingling energy. One who has faded into impalpability through death, through absence, through change of manners. Elizabethan London lay as far from Stratford as corrupt Paris lies from virgin Dublin. Who is the ghost from limbo patrum, returning to the world that has undergone him? Who is King Hamlet?"
  • Stephen: "It is this hour of a day in mid June, Stephen said, begging with a swift glance their hearing. The flag is up on the playhouse by the bankside. The bear Sackerson growls in the pit near it, Paris garden. Canvasclimbers who sailed with Drake chew their sausages among the groundlings."
  • Stephen: "Shakespeare has left the huguenot's house in Silver street and walks by the swanmews along the riverbank. But he does not stay to feed the pen chivying her game of cygnets towards the rushes. The swan of Avon has other thoughts."
  • Stephen: "The play begins. A player comes on under the shadow, made up in the castoff mail of a court buck, a wellset man with a bass voice. It is the ghost, the king, a king and no king, 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 player who stands before him beyond the rack of cerecloth, calling him by a name:"
  • Russell: "But this prying into the family life of a great man, Russell began impatiently."
  • John Eglinton: "Interesting only to the parish clerk. I mean, we have the plays. I mean when we read the poetry of King Lear what is it to us how the poet lived? As for living our servants can do that for us, Villiers de l'Isle has said. Peeping and prying into greenroom gossip of the day, the poet's drinking, the poet's debts. We have King Lear: and it is immortal."
  • Stephen: "Do you mean to fly in the face of the tradition of three centuries? John Eglinton's carping voice asked. Her ghost at least has been laid for ever. She died, for literature at least, before she was born."
  • Stephen: "She died, Stephen retorted, sixtyseven years after she was born. She saw him into and out of the world. She took his first embraces. She bore his children and she laid pennies on his eyes to keep his eyelids closed when he lay on his deathbed."
  • John Eglinton: "The world believes that Shakespeare made a mistake, he said, and got out of it as quickly and as best he could."
  • Stephen: "Bosh! Stephen said rudely. A man of genius makes no mistakes. His errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery."
  • John Eglinton: "A shrew, John Eglinton said shrewdly, is not a useful portal of discovery, one should imagine. What useful discovery did Socrates learn from Xanthippe?"
  • Stephen: "Dialectic, Stephen answered: and from his mother how to bring thoughts into the world. What he learnt from his other wife Myrto (absit nomen!) Socratididion's Epipsychidion, no man, not a woman, will ever know. But neither the midwife's lore nor the caudlelectures saved him from the archons of Sinn Fein and their naggin of hemlock."
  • Mr Best: "But Ann Hathaway? Mr Best's quiet voice said forgetfully. Yes, we seem to be forgetting her as Shakespeare himself forgot her. His life was rich to be sure. But it has been suggested, with some show of reason, that she was, shall we say, overmuch given to ratiocination."
  • Stephen: "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 whistling The girl I left behind me. If the earthquake did not time it we should know where to place poor Wat, sitting in his form, the cry of hounds, the studded bridle and her blue windows. That memory, Venus and Adonis, lay in the bedchamber of every light-of-love in London. Is Katharine the shrew illfavoured? Hortensio calls her young and beautiful. Do you think the writer of Antony and Cleopatra, a passionate pilgrim, had his eyes in the back of his head that he chose the ugliest doxy in all Warwickshire to lie withal?"
  • Mr Best: "Ryefield, Mr Best said brightly, gladly, raising his new book, gladly, raising his new book."
  • Mr Best: "I am afraid I am due at the Homestead."
  • John Eglinton: "Are you going? John Eglinton's active eyebrows asked. Shall we see you at Moore's tonight? Piper is coming."
  • Mr Best: "Piper! Mr Best piped. Is Piper back?"
  • Mr Best: "I don't know if I can. Thursday. We have our meeting. If I can get away in time."
  • Russell: "They say we are to have a literary surprise, the quaker librarian said, friendly and earnest. Mr George Russell is organising some kind of Irish literary theatre. First productions The Countess Cathleen, by Yeats, and The Heather Field, by Martyn. I wonder whether he will include anything of yours. Young Colum and Starkey. George Moore is getting up Diarmuid and Grania with Edward Martyn. I expect you will, of course."
  • Stephen: "Thank you very much, Mr Russell, Stephen said, rising. If you will be so kind then."
  • Russell: "O, yes. If he considers it important it will go in. We have so much space."
  • Stephen: "I understand, Stephen said. Thanks."
  • John Eglinton: "Mr Dedalus, your views are most illuminating."
  • John Eglinton: "Is it your view, then, that she was not faithful to the poet?"
  • Stephen: "Where there is a reconciliation, Stephen said, there must have been a sundering."
  • John Eglinton: "Yes."
  • Stephen: "Yes. So you think..."
  • John Eglinton: "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 shadow hangs over all the rest."
  • Mr Best: "But Hamlet is so personal, isn't it? Mr Best pleaded. I mean, a kind of private paper, don't you know, of his private life."
  • John Eglinton: "I was prepared for paradoxes from what Malachi Mulligan told us but I hardly expected..."
  • Stephen: "As we, or mother Dana, weave and unweave our bodies, Stephen said, from day to day, their molecules shuttled to and fro, so does the artist weave and unweave his image."
  • Mr Best: "Yes, Mr Best said youngly. I feel Hamlet quite young. The bitterness, the disillusionment, the cynicism, all that is youth."
  • Stephen: "That mole is the last to go, Stephen said, laughing."
  • John Eglinton: "If that were the birthmark of genius, he said, genius would be a drug in the market. But it is not so at all. Art is not an escape from life. It is the very stuff of life itself."
  • Russell: "The spirit of reconciliation, the quaker librarian breathed."
  • Stephen: "There can be no reconciliation, Stephen said, if there has not been a sundering."
  • Stephen: "If you want to know what are the events which cast their shadow over the hell of time of King Lear, Othello, Hamlet, Troilus and Cressida, look to see when and how the shadow lifts. What softens the heart of a man, shipwrecked in storms dire, Tried, like another Ulysses, Pericles, prince of Tyre?"
  • Stephen: "A child, a girl, placed in his arms, Marina."
  • John Eglinton: "The leaning of sophists towards the bypaths of apocrypha is a constant quantity, John Eglinton detected. The highroads are dreary but they lead to the town."
  • Stephen: "Mr Brandes accepts it, Stephen said, as the first play of the closing period."
  • John Eglinton: "Does he? What does Mr Sidney Lee, or Mr Simon Lazarus as some aver his name is, say of it?"
  • Stephen: "Marina, Stephen said, a child of storm, Miranda, a wonder, Perdita, that which was lost. What was lost is given back to him: his daughter's child. My dearest wife, Pericles says, was like this maid. Will any man love the daughter if he has not loved the mother?"
  • Mr Best: "The art of being a grandfather, Mr Best gan murmur. L'art d'être grandpère."
  • Stephen: "Will he not see reborn in her, with the memory of his own youth added, another image?"
  • John Eglinton: "His own image to a man with that queer thing genius is the standard of all experience, material and moral. Such an appeal will touch him. The images of other males of his blood will repel him. He will see in them grotesque attempts of nature to foretell or repeat himself."
  • Russell: "I hope Mr Dedalus will work out his theory for the enlightenment of the public. We shall all look forward to it."
  • Stephen: "That may be too, Stephen said. There's a saying of Goethe's which Mr Magee likes to quote. Beware of what you wish for in youth because you will get it in middle life. Why did he not write these plays or so many of them for his own pleasure as the great poets, Dante and Ibsen, have done? Because the wolf of poverty is always at the door of the artist. He was a rich country gentleman, Stephen said, with a coat of arms and landed estate at Stratford and a house in Ireland yard, a capitalist shareholder, a bill promoter, a tithefarmer. Now, the question is, what was the secular reason for this sudden departure from the custom of his craft? He was not a French courtier like Rabelais that was patient of all things. He was an English country gentleman who had fallen on evil days. He was a lapsed catholic who said mass once a year, obligatio, to keep himself in memory of the fact that his mother was a jewess and his father a wahoo doctor. But the Church of Rome is a sound economicsystem and sure salvation. Lavater said: Go on, get a divorce! And The Times of London is the organ of the upper ten. He was a gentleman, Stephen said, who lived by the pen and had an income of forty pounds a year from the Globe theatre. He was a practical catholic. He was a lapsed catholic but not a fallen one. He was still a catholic in his heart."
  • Stephen: "The soul has been before stricken mortally, a poison poured in the porch of a sleeping ear. But those who are done to death in sleep cannot know the manner of their quell unless their Creator endow their souls with that knowledge in the life to come. The poisoning and the beast with two backs that urged it King Hamlet's ghost could not know of were he not endowed with knowledge by his creator. That is why the speech (his lean unlovely English) is always turned elsewhere, backward. Ravisher and ravished, what he would but would not, go with him from Lucrece's bluecircled ivory globes to Imogen's breast, bare, with its mole cinquespotted. He goes back, weary of the creation he has piled up to hide him from himself, an old dog licking an old sore. But, because loss is his gain, he passes on towards eternity in undiminished personality, untaught by the wisdom he has written or by the laws he has revealed. His beaver is up. He is a ghost, a shadow now, the wind by Elsinore's rocks or what you will, the sea's voice, a voice heard only in the heart of him who is the substance of his shadow, the son consubstantial with the father."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Amen! was responded from the doorway."
  • Buck Mulligan: "You were speaking of the gaseous vertebrate, if I mistake not? he asked of Stephen from behind."
  • Russell: "Yes, indeed, the quaker librarian said. A most instructive discussion. Mr Mulligan, I'll be bound, has his theory too of the play and of Shakespeare. All sides of life should be represented."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Shakespeare? he said. I seem to know the name."
  • Russell: "To be sure, he said, remembering brightly. The chap that writes like Synge."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Haines missed you, he said. Did you meet him? He'll see you after at the Ship. He's gone to Gill's to buy Hyde's Lovesongs of Connacht."
  • Stephen: "I came through the museum, Buck Mulligan said. Was he here?"
  • John Eglinton: "The bard's fellowcountrymen, John Eglinton answered, are rather tired perhaps of our brilliancies of theorising. I hear that an actress played Hamlet for the fourhundredandeighteenth time last night in Dublin. Vining held that the prince was a woman. Has no-one made him out to be an Irishman? Judge Barton, I believe, is searching for some clues. He swears (His Highness not His Lordship) by saint Patrick."
  • Mr Best: "The most brilliant of all is that story of Wilde's, Mr Best said, lifting his brilliant notebook. That Portrait of Mr W. H. where he proves that the sonnets were written by a Willie Hughes, a man all hues."
  • Russell: "For Willie Hughes, is it not? the quaker librarian asked."
  • Mr Best: "I mean, for Willie Hughes, Mr Best said, amending his gloss easily. Of course he's right about the Sonnets being no more than a literary exercise. But he proves by the most ingenious paralogism that they were written by a Willie Hughes, a man all hues."
  • Russell: "Do you think it is only a paradox? the quaker librarian was asking. The mocker is never taken seriously when he is most serious."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Telegram! he said. Wonderful inspiration! Telegram! A papal bull!"
  • Stephen: "The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a thing done. Malachi Mulligan is two years younger than I."
  • Buck Mulligan: "It's what I'm telling you, mister honey, it's queer and sick we were, Haines and myself, the night you brought your first repository to the servant's hall. And it was your contribution to literature."
  • Stephen: "And we to be there, mavrone, and you to be unbeknownst sending us your conglomerations the way we to have our tongues out a yard long like the drouthy clerics do be fainting for a pussfull."
  • Buck Mulligan: "The tramper Synge is looking for you, he said, to murder you. He heard you pissed on his halldoor in Glasthule. He's out in pampooties to murder you."
  • Stephen: "Me! Stephen exclaimed. That was your contribution to literature."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Murder you! he laughed."
  • Attendant: "Mr Lyster, an attendant said from the door ajar."
  • Russell: "... in which everyone can find his own. So Mr Justice Madden in his Diary of Master Silence has found the hunting terms... Yes? What is it?"
  • Attendant: "There's a gentleman here, sir, the attendant said, coming forward and offering a card. From the Freeman. He wants to see the files of the Kilkenny People for last year."
  • Russell: "Certainly, certainly, certainly. Is the gentleman?..."
  • Attendant: "Is he?... O, there!"
  • Russell: "This gentleman? Freeman's Journal? Kilkenny People? To be sure. Good day, sir. Kilkenny... We have certainly those papers. If the gentleman will be so kind... The files, you know, are in the basement... If he will just wait a moment... I'll... This gentleman is from the Freeman, John Eglinton explained, getting up to bow."
  • Russell: "All the leading provincial... Northern Whig, Cork Examiner, Enniscorthy Guardian, 1903... Will you please... Stephen, may I ask you to do your best for this gentleman?... Mr Bloom, Stephen said. Yes, sir. Freeman."
  • Buck Mulligan: "The sheeny! Buck Mulligan cried."
  • Stephen: "What's his name? Ikey Moses? Bloom."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Jehovah, collector of prepuces, is no more. I found him over in the museum where I went to hail the foamborn Aphrodite, the cheap print in hand, serving as a model for the statue. He knows you. He knows your old fellow. O, I fear me, he is Greeker than the Greeks."
  • Stephen: "What links them in nature? An instant of blind rut."
  • Eglinton: "Interesting only to the parish clerk. I mean, whether Hamlet is Shakespeare or James I or Essex."
  • John Eglinton: "We want to hear more, John Eglinton decided with Mr Best's approval."
  • Stephen: "Antisthenes, pupil of Gorgias, Stephen said, took the palm of beauty from the pupil of the pupil of Gorgias. The height of fine society. And sir William Davenant of Oxford's mother with her cup of canary for any cockcanary."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Blessed Margaret Mary Anycock!"
  • Stephen: "And Harry of six wives' daughter. And other lady friends from neighbour seats, as Lawn Tennyson, gentleman poet, sings. But all those twenty years what do you suppose poor Penelope in Stratford was doing behind the diamond panes?"
  • John Eglinton: "Whom do you suspect? he challenged."
  • Stephen: "Say that he is the spurned lover in the sonnets. Once spurned twice spurned. But the court wanton spurned him for a lord, his dearmylove."
  • John Eglinton: "As an Englishman, you mean, John sturdy Eglinton put in, he loved a lord."
  • Stephen: "It seems so, Stephen said, when he wants to do for him, and for all other and singular uncared wombs, the lord their stuff, as that fabler and fishmonger, John Eglinton, puts it."
  • John Eglinton: "The burden of proof is with you not with me, he said frowning. If you deny that in the fifth scene of Hamlet he has branded her with infamy, tell me why there is no mention of her during the thirtyfour years between the day she married him and the day she buried him. All those women saw their men down and under: Mary, her goodman John, Ann, her poor dear Willun, when he went and died on her, raging that he was the first to go, Joan, her four brothers, Judith, her husband and all her sons, Susan, her husband too, while Susan's daughter, Elizabeth, to use granddaddy's words, wed her second, having killed her first."
  • Stephen: "Pretty countryfolk had few chattels then, John Eglinton observed, as he folded up his notebook."
  • Stephen: "He was a rich country gentleman, Stephen said, with a coat of arms and landed estate at Stratford and a house in Ireland yard, a capitalist shareholder, a bill promoter, a tithefarmer."
  • Mr Best: "It is clear that there were two beds, a best and a secondbest, Mr Secondbest Best said finely."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Separatio a mensa et a thalamo, bettered Buck Mulligan and was applauded."
  • John Eglinton: "Antiquity mentions famous beds, Second Eglinton puckered, bedsmiling."
  • Stephen: "Antiquity mentions that Stagyrite schoolurchin and bald heathen sage, Stephen said, who when dying in his bed asked this question of his friends: the Nicomachean Ethics and the Metaphysics bear me out."
  • Mr Best: "Do you mean he died so? Mr Best asked with slight concern. I mean..."
  • Buck Mulligan: "He died dead drunk, Buck Mulligan capped. A quart of ale is a dish for a king."
  • John Eglinton: "What? asked Besteglinton."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Lovely! Buck Mulligan suspired amorously. I asked him what he thought of the charge of pederasty brought against the bard. He lifted his hands and said: All I can say is I'm sorry for Shakespeare."
  • Mr Best: "The sense of beauty leads us astray, said beautifulinsadness Best to ugling Eglinton."
  • Stephen: "The doctor can tell us what those words mean. You cannot eat your cake and have it."
  • Stephen: "And the sense of property, Stephen said. He drew Shylock out of his own long pocket. The son of a maltjobber and moneylender he was himself a cornjobber and moneylender with ten tods of corn hoarded in the famine riots."
  • John Eglinton: "Prove that he was a jew, John Eglinton dared, expectantly. Your dean of studies holds he was a holy Roman."
  • Stephen: "He was made in Germany, Stephen replied, as the champion French polisher of Italian scandals."
  • Mr Best: "A myriadminded man, Mr Best reminded. Coleridge called him myriadminded."
  • Stephen: "Saint Thomas, Stephen began..."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Ora pro nobis, Monk Mulligan groaned, sinking to a chair."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Pogue mahone! Acushla machree! It's destroyed we are from this day!"
  • Stephen: "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 Mr Magee spoke of, likens it in his wise and curious way to an avarice of the emotions. He means that the love so given to one near in blood is covetously withheld from some stranger who, it may be, hungers for it."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Or his jennyass, Buck Mulligan antiphoned."
  • Mr Best: "Gentle Will is being roughly handled, gentle Mr Best said gently."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Which will? gagged sweetly Buck Mulligan. We are getting mixed."
  • John Eglinton: "The will to live, John Eglinton philosophised, for poor Ann, Will's widow, is the will to die."
  • Stephen: "She lies laid out in stark stiffness in that secondbest bed, the mobled queen, even though you prove that a bed in those days was as rare as a motorcar is now and that its carvings were the wonder of seven parishes."
  • John Eglinton: "History shows that to be true, inquit Eglintonus Chronolologos. The age of brass has returned."
  • Stephen: "A father, Stephen said, battling against hopelessness, is a necessary evil."
  • John Eglinton: "They are sundered by a bodily shame so steadfast that the criminal annals of the world, stained with all other incests and bestialities, hardly record its breach."
  • Stephen: "What links them in nature? An instant of blind rut."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Sabellius, the African, subtlest heresiarch of all the beasts of the field, held that the Father was Himself His Own Son."
  • Stephen: "Himself his own father, Sonmulligan told himself. Wait. I am big with child. I have an unborn child in my brain. Pallas Athena! A play! The play's the thing! Let me parturiate!"
  • Stephen: "As for his family, Stephen said, his mother's name lives in the forest of Arden. Her death brought from him the scene with Volumnia in Coriolanus. His boyson's death is the deathscene of young Arthur in King John. Hamlet, the black prince, is Hamnet Shakespeare. Who the girls in The Tempest, in Pericles, in Winter's Tale are we know. Who Cleopatra, fleshpot of Egypt, and Cressid and Venus are we may guess. But there is one person in all the works of Shakespeare who is never forgotten. That is the writer of the plays, the lord of language, the father of his own race, the father of his own grandfather, the father of his own unborn grandson, who, he said, may or may not be a jew."
  • John Eglinton: "The plot thickens, John Eglinton said."
  • Stephen: "What is that, Mr Dedalus? the quaker librarian asked. Was it a miracle?"
  • Stephen: "A star by night, Stephen said. A pillar of the cloud by day."
  • John Eglinton: "You make good use of the name, John Eglinton allowed. Your own name is strange enough."
  • Stephen: "That's very interesting because that brother motive, don't you know, we find again in the old Irish myths. Just what you say. The three brothers Shakespeare. In Grimm too, don't you know, the fairytales. The third brother that always marries the sleeping beauty and wins the best prize."
  • John Eglinton: "I should like to know, he said, which brother you... I understand you to suggest there was some kind of rivalry between the brothers."
  • Attendant: "Mr Lyster! Father Dineen wants..."
  • Russell: "O, Father Dineen! Directly."
  • Stephen: "Come, he said. Let us hear what you have to say of Richard and Edmund."
  • Stephen: "In asking you to remember those two noble kinsmen nuncle Richie and nuncle Edmund, Stephen answered, I feel I am asking too much perhaps. A brother is as easily forgotten as an umbrella."
  • John Eglinton: "You will say those names were already in the chronicles from which he took the stuff of his plays."
  • Stephen: "That was Will's way, John Eglinton defended. We should not now combine a Norse saga with an excerpt from a novel by George Meredith. Que voulez-vous? Moore would say. He puts Bohemia on the seacoast and makes Ulysses quote Aristotle."
  • Stephen: "Why? Stephen answered himself. Because the theme of the false or the usurping or the adulterous brother or all three in one is to Shakespeare what the poor is not, always with him."
  • John Eglinton: "The truth is midway, he affirmed. He is the ghost and the prince. He is all in all."
  • Stephen: "He is, Stephen said. The boy of act one is the mature man of act five. All in all. In Cymbeline, in Othello he is bawd and cuckold. He acts and is acted on. Lover of an ideal or a perversion, like José he kills the real Carmen. His unremitting intellect is the horizmal Iago ceaselessly willing that the moor in him shall suffer."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuck Mulligan clucked lewdly. O word of fear!"
  • John Eglinton: "And what a character is Iago! undaunted John Eglinton exclaimed. When all is said Dumas fils (or is it Dumas père?) is right. After God Shakespeare has created most."
  • Stephen: "Man delights him not nor woman neither, Stephen said. He returns after a life of absence to that spot of earth where he was born, where he has always been, man and boy, a silent witness and there, his journey of life ended, he plants his mulberrytree in the earth. Then dies. The motion is ended. Gravediggers bury Hamlet père and Hamlet fils. A king and a prince at last in death, with incidental music. And, what though murdered and betrayed, bewept by all frail tender hearts for, Dane or Dubliner, sorrow for the dead is the only husband from whom they refuse to be divorced."
  • Buck Mulligan: "May I? he said. The Lord has spoken to Malachi."
  • Mr Best: "Those who are married, Mr Best, douce herald, said, all save one, shall live. The rest shall keep as they are."
  • John Eglinton: "You are a delusion, said roundly John Eglinton to Stephen. You have brought us all this way to show us a French triangle. Do you believe your own theory?"
  • Stephen: "No, Stephen said promptly."
  • Mr Best: "Are you going to write it? Mr Best asked. You ought to make it a dialogue, don't you know, like the Platonic dialogues Wilde wrote."
  • John Eglinton: "Well, in that case, he said, I don't see why you should expect payment since you don't believe it yourself."
  • Stephen: "You are the only contributor to Dana who asks for pieces of silver."
  • Stephen: "For a guinea, Stephen said, you can publish this interview."
  • Buck Mulligan: "I called upon the bard Kinch at his summer residence in upper Mecklenburgh street and found him deep in the study of the Summa contra Gentiles in the company of two gonorrheal ladies, Fresh Nelly and Rosalie, the coalquay whore."
  • Stephen: "Come, Kinch. Come, wandering Ængus of the birds."
  • John Eglinton: "We shall see you tonight, John Eglinton said. Notre ami Moore says Malachi Mulligan must be there."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Monsieur Moore, he said, lecturer on French letters to the youth of Ireland."
  • Stephen: "O please do, sir... I shall be most pleased..."
  • Buck Mulligan: "A pleased bottom."
  • Stephen: "O, the chinless Chinaman! Chin Chon Eg Lin Ton. We went over to their playbox, Haines and I, the plumbers' hall. Our players are creating a new art for Europe like the Greeks or M. Maeterlinck. Abbey Theatre! I smell the public sweat of monks."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Longworth and M'Curdy Atkinson were there..."
  • Stephen: "Mournful mummer, Buck Mulligan moaned. Synge has left off wearing black to be like nature. Only crows, priests and English coal are black."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Longworth is awfully sick, he said, after what you wrote about that old hake Gregory. O you inquisitional drunken jewjesuit!"
  • Stephen: "The most beautiful book that has come out of our country in my time."
  • Buck Mulligan: "I have conceived a play for the mummers, he said solemnly."
  • Stephen: "The disguise, I fear, is thin. But listen."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Characters:"
  • Stephen: "O, the night in the Camden hall when the daughters of Erin had to lift their skirts to step over you as you lay in your mulberrycoloured, multicoloured, multitudinous vomit!"
  • Buck Mulligan: "The most innocent son of Erin, Stephen said, for whom they ever lifted them."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Good day again, Buck Mulligan said."
  • Stephen: "The wandering jew, Buck Mulligan whispered with clown's awe. Did you see his eye? He looked upon you to lust after you. I fear thee, ancient mariner. O, Kinch, thou art in peril. Get thee a breechpad."
  • Mr Best: "The art of being a grandfather, Mr Best gan murmur. L'art d'être grandpère."
  • Stephen: "Will he not see reborn in her, with the memory of his own youth added, another image?"
  • John Eglinton: "His own image to a man with that queer thing genius is the standard of all experience, material and moral. Such an appeal will touch him. The images of other males of his blood will repel him. He will see in them grotesque attempts of nature to foretell or repeat himself."
  • Russell: "I hope Mr Dedalus will work out his theory for the enlightenment of the public. We shall all look forward to it."
  • Stephen: "That may be too, Stephen said. There's a saying of Goethe's which Mr Magee likes to quote. Beware of what you wish for in youth because you will get it in middle life. Why did he not write these plays or so many of them for his own pleasure as the great poets, Dante and Ibsen, have done? Because the wolf of poverty is always at the door of the artist. He was a rich country gentleman, Stephen said, with a coat of arms and landed estate at Stratford and a house in Ireland yard, a capitalist shareholder, a bill promoter, a tithefarmer. Now, the question is, what was the secular reason for this sudden departure from the custom of his craft? He was not a French courtier like Rabelais that was patient of all things. He was an English country gentleman who had fallen on evil days. He was a lapsed catholic who said mass once a year, obligatio, to keep himself in memory of the fact that his mother was a jewess and his father a wahoo doctor. But the Church of Rome is a sound economicsystem and sure salvation. Lavater said: Go on, get a divorce! And The Times of London is the organ of the upper ten. He was a gentleman, Stephen said, who lived by the pen and had an income of forty pounds a year from the Globe theatre. He was a practical catholic. He was a lapsed catholic but not a fallen one. He was still a catholic in his heart."
  • Stephen: "The soul has been before stricken mortally, a poison poured in the porch of a sleeping ear. But those who are done to death in sleep cannot know the manner of their quell unless their Creator endow their souls with that knowledge in the life to come. The poisoning and the beast with two backs that urged it King Hamlet's ghost could not know of were he not endowed with knowledge by his creator. That is why the speech (his lean unlovely English) is always turned elsewhere, backward. Ravisher and ravished, what he would but would not, go with him from Lucrece's bluecircled ivory globes to Imogen's breast, bare, with its mole cinquespotted. He goes back, weary of the creation he has piled up to hide him from himself, an old dog licking an old sore. But, because loss is his gain, he passes on towards eternity in undiminished personality, untaught by the wisdom he has written or by the laws he has revealed. His beaver is up. He is a ghost, a shadow now, the wind by Elsinore's rocks or what you will, the sea's voice, a voice heard only in the heart of him who is the substance of his shadow, the son consubstantial with the father."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Amen! was responded from the doorway."
  • Buck Mulligan: "You were speaking of the gaseous vertebrate, if I mistake not? he asked of Stephen from behind."
  • Russell: "Yes, indeed, the quaker librarian said. A most instructive discussion. Mr Mulligan, I'll be bound, has his theory too of the play and of Shakespeare. All sides of life should be represented."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Shakespeare? he said. I seem to know the name."
  • Russell: "To be sure, he said, remembering brightly. The chap that writes like Synge."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Haines missed you, he said. Did you meet him? He'll see you after at the Ship. He's gone to Gill's to buy Hyde's Lovesongs of Connacht."
  • Stephen: "I came through the museum, Buck Mulligan said. Was he here?"
  • John Eglinton: "The bard's fellowcountrymen, John Eglinton answered, are rather tired perhaps of our brilliancies of theorising. I hear that an actress played Hamlet for the fourhundredandeighteenth time last night in Dublin. Vining held that the prince was a woman. Has no-one made him out to be an Irishman? Judge Barton, I believe, is searching for some clues. He swears (His Highness not His Lordship) by saint Patrick."
  • Mr Best: "The most brilliant of all is that story of Wilde's, Mr Best said, lifting his brilliant notebook. That Portrait of Mr W. H. where he proves that the sonnets were written by a Willie Hughes, a man all hues."
  • Russell: "For Willie Hughes, is it not? the quaker librarian asked."
  • Mr Best: "I mean, for Willie Hughes, Mr Best said, amending his gloss easily. Of course he's right about the Sonnets being no more than a literary exercise. But he proves by the most ingenious paralogism that they were written by a Willie Hughes, a man all hues."
  • Russell: "Do you think it is only a paradox? the quaker librarian was asking. The mocker is never taken seriously when he is most serious."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Telegram! he said. Wonderful inspiration! Telegram! A papal bull!"
  • Stephen: "The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a thing done. Malachi Mulligan is two years younger than I."
  • Buck Mulligan: "It's what I'm telling you, mister honey, it's queer and sick we were, Haines and myself, the night you brought your first repository to the servant's hall. And it was your contribution to literature."
  • Stephen: "And we to be there, mavrone, and you to be unbeknownst sending us your conglomerations the way we to have our tongues out a yard long like the drouthy clerics do be fainting for a pussfull."
  • Buck Mulligan: "The tramper Synge is looking for you, he said, to murder you. He heard you pissed on his halldoor in Glasthule. He's out in pampooties to murder you."
  • Stephen: "Me! Stephen exclaimed. That was your contribution to literature."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Murder you! he laughed."
  • Attendant: "Mr Lyster, an attendant said from the door ajar."
  • Russell: "... in which everyone can find his own. So Mr Justice Madden in his Diary of Master Silence has found the hunting terms... Yes? What is it?"
  • Attendant: "There's a gentleman here, sir, the attendant said, coming forward and offering a card. From the Freeman. He wants to see the files of the Kilkenny People for last year."
  • Russell: "Certainly, certainly, certainly. Is the gentleman?..."
  • Attendant: "Is he?... O, there!"
  • Russell: "This gentleman? Freeman's Journal? Kilkenny People? To be sure. Good day, sir. Kilkenny... We have certainly those papers. If the gentleman will be so kind... The files, you know, are in the basement... If he will just wait a moment... I'll... This gentleman is from the Freeman, John Eglinton explained, getting up to bow."
  • Russell: "All the leading provincial... Northern Whig, Cork Examiner, Enniscorthy Guardian, 1903... Will you please... Stephen, may I ask you to do your best for this gentleman?... Mr Bloom, Stephen said. Yes, sir. Freeman."
  • Buck Mulligan: "The sheeny! Buck Mulligan cried."
  • Stephen: "What's his name? Ikey Moses? Bloom."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Jehovah, collector of prepuces, is no more. I found him over in the museum where I went to hail the foamborn Aphrodite, the cheap print in hand, serving as a model for the statue. He knows you. He knows your old fellow. O, I fear me, he is Greeker than the Greeks."
  • Stephen: "What links them in nature? An instant of blind rut."
  • Eglinton: "Interesting only to the parish clerk. I mean, whether Hamlet is Shakespeare or James I or Essex."

Chapter 10 - Wandering Rocks

↑ Back to Gilbert's Table

Setting: Various locations across Dublin as different characters move through the city.

Dialogue:

  • Child: "Very well, indeed, father. And you, father?"
  • Father Conmee: "Good afternoon, Mrs Sheehy."
  • Boy: "Pilate! Wy don't you old back that owlin mob?"
  • Father Conmee: "But mind you don't post yourself into the box, little man, he said."
  • Boy: "O, sir."
  • Father Conmee: "Well, let me see if you can post a letter, Father Conmee said."
  • Father Conmee: "That's a fine day, Mr Kelleher."
  • Corny Kelleher: "Ay, Corny Kelleher said."
  • Constable: "It's very close, the constable said."
  • Corny Kelleher: "What's the best news? he asked."
  • Constable: "I seen that particular party last evening, the constable said with bated breath."
  • Boy: "For England..."
  • Boy: "home and beauty."
  • Boy: "For England..."
  • Boy: "home and beauty."
  • Father Conmee: "There, sir."
  • Boody: "Did you put in the books? Boody asked."
  • Maggy: "They wouldn't give anything on them, she said."
  • Boody: "Where did you try? Boody asked."
  • Maggy: "M'Guinness's."
  • Boody: "Bad cess to her big face! she cried."
  • Boody: "What's in the pot? she asked."
  • Maggy: "Shirts, Maggy said."
  • Boody: "Crickey, is there nothing for us to eat?"
  • Boody: "And what's in this?"
  • Maggy: "Peasoup, Maggy said."
  • Katey: "Where did you get it? Katey asked."
  • Maggy: "Sister Mary Patrick, Maggy said."
  • Boody: "Barang!"
  • Boody: "Give us it here."
  • Boody: "A good job we have that much. Where's Dilly?"
  • Maggy: "Gone to meet father, Maggy said."
  • Boody: "Our father who art not in heaven."
  • Katey: "Boody! For shame!"
  • Blazes Boylan: "Put these in first, will you? he said."
  • Shop Girl: "Yes, sir, the blond girl said. And the fruit on top."
  • Blazes Boylan: "That'll do, game ball, Blazes Boylan said."
  • Blazes Boylan: "Can you send them by tram? Now?"
  • Shop Girl: "Certainly, sir. Is it in the city?"
  • Blazes Boylan: "O, yes, Blazes Boylan said. Ten minutes."
  • Shop Girl: "Will you write the address, sir?"
  • Blazes Boylan: "Send it at once, will you? he said. It's for an invalid."
  • Shop Girl: "Yes, sir. I will, sir."
  • Blazes Boylan: "What's the damage? he asked."
  • Blazes Boylan: "This for me? he asked gallantly."
  • Shop Girl: "Yes, sir, she said."
  • Blazes Boylan: "May I say a word to your telephone, missy? he asked roguishly."
  • Almidano Artifoni: "Anch'io ho avuto di queste idee, Almidano Artifoni said, quand' ero giovine come Lei. Eppoi mi sono convinto che il mondo è una bestia. È peccato. Perchè la sua voce... sarebbe un cespite di rendita, via. Invece, Lei si sacrifica."
  • Stephen: "Sacrifizio incruento, Stephen said smiling, swaying his ashplant in slow swingswings from its midpoint, lightly."
  • Stephen: "Ci rifletterò, Stephen said, glancing down the solid trouserleg."
  • Almidano Artifoni: "Ma, sul serio, eh? Almidano Artifoni said."
  • Stephen: "Arrivederla, maestro, Stephen said, raising his hat when his hand was freed from his ashplant."
  • Almidano Artifoni: "Di che? Almidano Artifoni said. Scusi, eh? Tante belle cose!"
  • Stephen: "16 June 1904."
  • Lenehan: "Hello. Yes, sir. No, sir. Yes, sir. I'll ring them up after five. Only those two, sir, for Belfast and Liverpool."
  • Lenehan: "Mr Boylan! Hello! That gentleman from Sport was in looking for you."
  • Ned Lambert: "Who's that? Ned Lambert asked. Is that Crotty?"
  • Voice: "Ringabella and Crosshaven, a voice replied groping for foothold."
  • Ned Lambert: "Hello, Jack, is that yourself? Ned Lambert said, raising in salute his pliant lath among the flickering arches."
  • Clergyman: "How interesting! a refined accent said in the gloom."
  • Ned Lambert: "Yes, sir, Ned Lambert said heartily. We are standing in the historic council chamber of saint Mary's abbey where silken Thomas proclaimed himself a rebel in 1534."
  • Clergyman: "No, Ned."
  • Clergyman: "He rode down through Dame walk, the refined accent said, if my memory serves me. The mansion of the Kildares was in Thomas court."
  • Ned Lambert: "That's right, Ned Lambert said. That's quite right, sir."
  • Clergyman: "If you will be so kind then, the clergyman said, the next time to allow me perhaps..."
  • Ned Lambert: "Certainly, Ned Lambert said. Bring the camera whenever you like. I'll see you on Sunday some time."
  • Clergyman: "I'm deeply obliged, Mr Lambert, the clergyman said. I won't trespass on your valuable time..."
  • Ned Lambert: "You're welcome, sir, Ned Lambert said. Drop in whenever you like. Next Sunday, say. Can you see?"
  • Clergyman: "Yes, yes. Good afternoon, Mr Lambert. Very pleased to have met you."
  • Ned Lambert: "Pleasure is mine, sir, Ned Lambert answered."
  • Clergyman: "The reverend Hugh C. Love, Rathcoffey. Present address: Saint Michael's, Sallins."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "I thought you were at a new gunpowder plot, J. J. O'Molloy said."
  • Ned Lambert: "God! he cried. I forgot to tell him that one about the earl of Kildare after he set fire to Cashel cathedral."
  • Driver: "Woa, sonny!"
  • Ned Lambert: "Well, Jack. What is it? What's the trouble? Wait awhile. Hold hard."
  • Driver: "Chow! he said. Blast you!"
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "The dust from those sacks, J. J. O'Molloy said politely."
  • Ned Lambert: "No, Ned Lambert gasped, I caught a... cold night before... blast your... yesterday evening... and there was a... lot of them... coughing... like that... the whole time."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "I was... Glasnevin this morning... poor little... what do you call him... Chow! Look at that, now!"
  • Tom Rochford: "See? he said. Say it's turn six. In here, see. Turn Now On."
  • Tom Rochford: "See? he said. See now the last one I put in is over here: Turns Over."
  • Nosey Flynn: "Smart idea, Nosey Flynn said, snuffling. So a fellow coming in late can see what turned up and what didn't."
  • Tom Rochford: "See? Tom Rochford said."
  • Lenehan: "I'll see him now in the Ormond, Lenehan said, and sound him. One good turn deserves another."
  • Tom Rochford: "Do, Tom Rochford said. Tell him I'm Boylan with impatience."
  • M'Coy: "Goodnight, M'Coy said abruptly. When you two begin..."
  • Tom Rochford: "But how does it work here, Tommy? he asked."
  • Lenehan: "Tooraloo, Lenehan said. See you later."
  • M'Coy: "He's a hero, he said simply."
  • Lenehan: "I know, M'Coy said. The drain, you mean."
  • M'Coy: "Drain? Lenehan said. It was down a manhole."
  • Lenehan: "The act of a hero, he said."
  • M'Coy: "This way, he said, walking to the right. I want to pop into Lynam's to see Sceptre's starting price."
  • Lenehan: "After three, he said. Who's riding her?"
  • M'Coy: "O. Madden, Lenehan said. And a game filly she is."
  • Lenehan: "Even money, Lenehan said returning. I knocked against Bantam Lyons in there going to back a bloody horse someone gave him that hasn't an earthly."
  • M'Coy: "There he is, Lenehan said."
  • Lenehan: "Wonder what he's buying, M'Coy said, glancing behind."
  • M'Coy: "Leopoldo or the Bloom is on the Rye, Lenehan said."
  • Lenehan: "He's dead nuts on sales, M'Coy said. I was with him one day and he bought a book from an old one in Liffey street for two bob. There were fine plates in it with colours, he said, illustrating the book. The Courtship of Miles Standish it was called."
  • M'Coy: "I'll tell you a damn good one about comets' tails, he said. Come over here."
  • Lenehan: "There was a long spread out at Glencree reformatory, Lenehan said eagerly. The annual 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 Benjamin Dollard..."
  • M'Coy: "I know, M'Coy broke in. My missus sang there once."
  • Lenehan: "Did she? Lenehan said."
  • M'Coy: "But wait till I tell you, he said. Delahunt of Camden street had the catering and yours truly was chief bottlewasher. Bloom and the wife were there. Tipping port, hop and mead. We had a midnight lunch too after all the jollification and when we sallied forth it was blue o'clock the morning after the night before."
  • Lenehan: "I was tucking the rug under her and settling her boa all the time."
  • M'Coy: "The lad stood to attention anyhow, he said with a sigh. She's a gamey mare and no mistake."
  • Lenehan: "I'm weak, he gasped."
  • M'Coy: "He's a cultured allroundman, Bloom is, he said seriously. He's not one of your common or garden... you know... There's a touch of the artist about old Bloom."
  • Bloom: "That I had, he said, pushing it by."
  • Lenehan: "Them are two good ones, he said."
  • Bloom: "Her mouth glued on his in a luscious voluptuous kiss while his hands felt for the opulent curves inside her deshabillé."
  • Bloom: "You are late, he spoke hoarsely, eying her with a suspicious glare."
  • Bloom: "I'll take this one."
  • Bloom: "Sweets of Sin, he said, tapping on it. That's a good one."
  • Boody: "Barang!"
  • Katey: "It's time for you, she said."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Stand up straight for the love of the lord Jesus, Mr Dedalus said. Are you trying to imitate your uncle John the cornetplayer, head upon shoulder? Melancholy God!"
  • Mr Dedalus: "Stand up straight, girl, he said. You'll get curvature of the spine."
  • Dilly: "Give it up, father, Dilly said. All the people are looking at you."
  • Dilly: "Did you get any money? Dilly asked."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Where would I get money? Mr Dedalus said. There is no-one in Dublin would lend me fourpence."
  • Dilly: "You got some, Dilly said, looking in his eyes."
  • Mr Dedalus: "How do you know that? Mr Dedalus asked, his tongue in his cheek."
  • Dilly: "I know you did, Dilly answered. Were you in the Scotch house now?"
  • Mr Dedalus: "I was not, then, Mr Dedalus said, smiling. Was it the little nuns taught you to be so saucy? Here."
  • Mr Dedalus: "See if you can do anything with that, he said."
  • Dilly: "I suppose you got five, Dilly said. Give me more than that."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Wait awhile, Mr Dedalus said threateningly. You're like the rest of them, are you? An insolent pack of little bitches since your poor mother died."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Well, what is it? he said, stopping."
  • Boy: "Barang!"
  • Mr Dedalus: "Curse your bloody blatant soul, Mr Dedalus cried, turning on him."
  • Boy: "Bang!"
  • Mr Dedalus: "Watch him, he said. It's instructive. I wonder will he allow us to talk."
  • Dilly: "You got more than that, father, Dilly said."
  • Mr Dedalus: "I'm going to show you a little trick, Mr Dedalus said. I'll leave you all where Jesus left the jews."
  • Dilly: "Can't you look for some money somewhere? Dilly said."
  • Mr Dedalus: "I will, he said gravely. I looked all along the gutter in O'Connell street. I'll try this one now."
  • Dilly: "You're very funny, Dilly said, grinning."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Here, Mr Dedalus said, handing her two pennies. Get a glass of milk for yourself and a bun or a something. I'll be home shortly."
  • Dilly: "I'm sure you have another shilling, Dilly said."
  • Mr Dedalus: "The little nuns! Nice little things! O, sure they wouldn't do anything! Not the little nuns!"
  • Father Cowley: "Hello, Simon, Father Cowley said. How are things?"
  • Mr Dedalus: "Hello, Bob, old man, Mr Dedalus answered, stopping."
  • Huckster: "Twopence each, the huckster said. Four for sixpence."
  • Stephen: "Se el yilo nebrakada femininum! Amor me solo! Sanktus! Amen."
  • Dilly: "What are you doing here, Stephen?"
  • Stephen: "What are you doing? Stephen said."
  • Stephen: "What have you there? Stephen asked."
  • Dilly: "I bought it from the other cart for a penny, Dilly said, laughing nervously."
  • Stephen: "What did you buy that for? he asked. To learn French?"
  • Stephen: "Here, Stephen said. It's all right. Mind Maggy doesn't pawn it on you."
  • Dilly: "Some, Dilly said. We had to."
  • Father Cowley: "Hello, Simon, Father Cowley said. How are things?"
  • Mr Dedalus: "Hello, Bob, old man, Mr Dedalus answered, stopping."
  • Mr Dedalus: "What's the best news? Mr Dedalus said."
  • Father Cowley: "Why then not much, Father Cowley said. I'm barricaded up, Simon, with a couple of bobtailed louts from the county council."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Jolly, Mr Dedalus said. Who is it?"
  • Father Cowley: "O, Father Cowley said. A certain gombeen man of our acquaintance."
  • Mr Dedalus: "With a broken back, is it? Mr Dedalus asked."
  • Father Cowley: "The same, Simon, Father Cowley answered. Reuben of that ilk. I'm just waiting for Ben Dollard. He's going to put his name to it too."
  • Mr Dedalus: "I know, Mr Dedalus said, nodding. Poor old bockedy Ben! He's always on his uppers."
  • Ben Dollard: "There he is, by God, he said, arse and pockets."
  • Ben Dollard: "Hold that fellow with the bad trousers."
  • Ben Dollard: "Hold him now, Ben Dollard said."
  • Ben Dollard: "That's a pretty garment, isn't it, for a summer's day?"
  • Ben Dollard: "Why, God eternally curse your soul, Ben Dollard growled furiously, I'll crucify you so I will."
  • Mr Dedalus: "They were made for a man in his health, Ben, anyhow."
  • Ben Dollard: "Bad luck to the jewman that made them, Ben Dollard said. Thanks be to God he's not paid yet."
  • Father Cowley: "And how is that basso profondo, Benjamin? Father Cowley asked."
  • Ben Dollard: "Aw! he said."
  • Mr Dedalus: "That's the style, Mr Dedalus said, nodding to its drone."
  • Ben Dollard: "What about that? Ben Dollard said. Not too dusty? What?"
  • Father Cowley: "That'll do, Father Cowley said, nodding also."
  • Ben Dollard: "Come along with me to the subsheriff's office, he said. I want to show you the new beauty Bloom has for a bailiff."
  • Father Cowley: "For a few days tell him, Father Cowley said anxiously."
  • Ben Dollard: "What few days? he boomed. Hasn't your landlord distrained for rent?"
  • Father Cowley: "He has, Father Cowley said."
  • Ben Dollard: "Then our friend's writ is not worth the paper it's printed on, Ben Dollard said. The landlord has the prior claim. I gave him all the particulars twentyseven years ago on the execution of the will. The law, as I told you, is an ass."
  • Father Cowley: "That's right, Father Cowley said. The reverend Mr Love. He's a man of the world."
  • Ben Dollard: "You can tell Barabbas from me, Ben Dollard said, that he can put that writ where Jacko put the nuts."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Filberts I believe they were, Mr Dedalus said, as he dropped his cigaretteend on the pavement."
  • Martin Cunningham: "The youngster will be all right, Martin Cunningham said, as they passed out of the Castleyard gate."
  • Boy: "God bless you, Martin Cunningham said, cheerily."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Yes, Martin Cunningham said, fingering his beard. I wrote to Father Conmee and laid the whole case before him."
  • Mr Power: "You could try our friend, Mr Power suggested backward."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Boyd? Martin Cunningham said shortly. Touch me not."
  • John Wyse Nolan: "Look here, Martin, John Wyse Nolan said, overtaking them at the Mail office. I see Bloom put his name down for five shillings."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Quite right, Martin Cunningham said, taking the list. And put down the five shillings too."
  • Mr Power: "Without a second word either, Mr Power said."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Strange but true, Martin Cunningham added."
  • Martin Cunningham: "I'll say there is much kindness in the jew, he quoted, elegantly."
  • Mr Power: "There's Jimmy Henry, Mr Power said, just heading for Kavanagh's."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Righto, Martin Cunningham said. Here goes."
  • John Wyse Nolan: "The assistant town clerk's corns are giving him some trouble, John Wyse Nolan told them, as they took up the trail again, leading them round by the Custom house."
  • John Wyse Nolan: "And long John Fanning is here too, John Wyse Nolan said, as large as life."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Good day, Mr Subsheriff, Martin Cunningham said, as all halted and saluted."
  • Long John Fanning: "Are the conscript fathers pursuing their peaceful deliberations? he said with rich acrid utterance to the three."
  • Long John Fanning: "What Dignam was that? long John Fanning asked."
  • Long John Fanning: "O, my corns! he said plaintively. Come upstairs for goodness' sake till I sit down somewhere."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Come on up, Martin Cunningham said to the subsheriff. I don't think you'll be troubled by the ladies."
  • Mr Power: "Decent little soul he was, Mr Power said to the stalwart back of long John Fanning ascending towards Long John Fanning in the mirror."
  • Martin Cunningham: "Rather lowsized. Dignam of Menton's office that was, Martin Cunningham said."
  • Martin Cunningham: "What's that? Martin Cunningham said."
  • Martin Cunningham: "What was it? Martin Cunningham asked, as they went on up the staircase."
  • John Wyse Nolan: "The lord lieutenantgeneral and general governor of Ireland, John Wyse Nolan answered."
  • John Wyse Nolan: "Parnell's brother. There in the corner."
  • Haines: "Is that he? Haines asked, twisting round in his seat."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Yes, Mulligan said. That's John Howard, his brother, our city marshal."
  • Haines: "I'll take a mélange, Haines said to the waitress."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Two mélanges, Buck Mulligan said. And bring us some scones and butter and some cakes as well."
  • Buck Mulligan: "We call it D.B.C. because they have damn bad cakes. O, but you missed a very fine display, he said."
  • Haines: "I'm sorry, he said. Shakespeare is the happy huntingground of all minds that have lost their balance."
  • Buck Mulligan: "England expects..."
  • Buck Mulligan: "You should see him, he said, when his body loses its balance."
  • Haines: "I am sure he has an idée fixe, Haines said, pinching his chin thoughtfully with thumb and forefinger."
  • Buck Mulligan: "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."
  • Haines: "Eternal punishment, Haines said, nodding curtly. I see. I tackled him this morning on belief. There was something on his mind, it seemed. My smile will soon come back when I read the passage in the Times."
  • Buck Mulligan: "He can find no trace of hell in ancient Irish myth, Haines said, amid the general scheme of things. Can you recall the brother poets' discussion of the matter?"
  • Buck Mulligan: "Ten years, he said, chewing and laughing. He is going to write something in ten years."
  • Haines: "Seems a long way off, Haines said, thoughtfully lifting his spoon. Still, I shouldn't wonder if he did after all."
  • Buck Mulligan: "This is real Irish cream I take it, he said with forbearance. I don't want to be imposed on."
  • Buck Mulligan: "Coactus volui."
  • Buck Mulligan: "God's curse on you, he said sourly, whoever you are! You're blinder nor the three of us, you old son of a bitch!"

Chapter 11 - Sirens

↑ Back to Gilbert's Table

Setting: The Ormond Hotel bar where Bloom dines while listening to music.

Dialogue:

  • Miss Kennedy: "Is that her? asked miss Kennedy."
  • Miss Kennedy: "Exquisite contrast, miss Kennedy said."
  • Miss Kennedy: "Look at the fellow in the tall silk."
  • Miss Douce: "Who? Where? gold asked more eagerly."
  • Miss Douce: "In the second carriage, miss Douce's wet lips said, laughing in the sun."
  • Miss Kennedy: "He's killed looking back."
  • Miss Douce: "O wept! Aren't men frightful idiots?"
  • Miss Kennedy: "It's them has the fine times, sadly then she said."
  • Barman: "There's your teas, he said."
  • Boots: "What is it? loud boots unmannerly asked."
  • Miss Douce: "Find out, miss Douce retorted, leaving her spyingpoint."
  • Boots: "Your beau, is it?"
  • Miss Douce: "I'll complain to Mrs de Massey on you if I hear any more of your cheek."
  • Boots: "Imperthnthn thnthnthn, bootssnout sniffed rudely, as he retreated as she threatened with her hand."
  • Miss Douce: "Most aggravating that young brat is. If he doesn't conduct himself I'll wring his ear for him a yard long."
  • Miss Kennedy: "Take no notice, miss Kennedy rejoined."
  • Miss Douce: "Am I awfully sunburnt?"
  • Miss Kennedy: "No, said miss Kennedy. It gets brown after. Did you try the borax with the cherry laurel water?"
  • Miss Douce: "And leave it to my hands, she said."
  • Miss Kennedy: "Try it with the glycerine, miss Kennedy advised."
  • Miss Douce: "Those things only bring out a rash, replied, reseated. I asked that old fogey in Boyd's for something for my skin."
  • Miss Kennedy: "O, don't remind me of him for mercy' sake!"
  • Miss Douce: "But wait till I tell you, miss Douce entreated."
  • Miss Kennedy: "No, don't, she cried."
  • Miss Kennedy: "I won't listen, she cried."
  • Miss Douce: "For your what? says he."
  • Miss Kennedy: "Don't let me think of him or I'll expire. The hideous old wretch! That freckledy wastycodger."
  • Miss Douce: "Here he was, miss Douce said, cocking her bronze head three quarters, ruffling her nosewings."
  • Miss Kennedy: "O! shrieking, miss Kennedy cried. Will you ever forget his goggle eye?"
  • Miss Douce: "And your other eye!"
  • Miss Kennedy: "O greasy eyes! Imagine being married to a man like that! she cried."
  • Miss Douce: "Married to the greasy nose! she yelled."
  • Miss Douce: "O saints above! miss Douce said, sighed above her jumping rose. I won't be here! I won't be here when nobody comes."
  • Miss Kennedy: "O, miss Douce! miss Kennedy protested. You horrid thing!"
  • Miss Douce: "O, welcome back, miss Douce."
  • Miss Kennedy: "Tiptop."
  • Miss Douce: "Gorgeous, she said. Look at the holy show I am. Lying out on the strand all day on the lookout for mermaids, the dear things."
  • Mr Dedalus: "That was exceedingly naughty of you, Mr Dedalus told her and pressed her hand indulgently."
  • Miss Douce: "O go away! she said. You're very simple, I don't think."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Well now I am, he mused. I looked so simple in the cradle they christened me simple Simon."
  • Miss Douce: "You must have been a doaty, miss Douce made answer. And what did the doctor order today?"
  • Mr Dedalus: "Well now, he mused, whatever you say yourself. I think I'll trouble you for some fresh water and a half glass of whisky, please."
  • Miss Douce: "With the greatest alacrity, miss Douce agreed."
  • Mr Dedalus: "By Jove, he mused, I often wanted to see the Mourne mountains. Must be a great tonic in the air down there."
  • Mr Dedalus: "O, Idolores, queen of the eastern seas!"
  • Mr Dedalus: "Was Mr Lidwell in today?"
  • Miss Douce: "He was in at lunchtime, miss Douce said."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Was Mr Boylan looking for me?"
  • Miss Kennedy: "Miss Kennedy, was Mr Boylan in while I was upstairs?"
  • Miss Kennedy: "No. He was not."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Peep! Who's in the corner?"
  • Mr Dedalus: "Ah fox met ah stork. Said thee fox too thee stork: Will you put your bill down inn my troath and pull uppah bone?"
  • Mr Dedalus: "Ah me! O my!"
  • Lenehan: "Greetings from the famous son of a famous father."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Who may he be? Mr Dedalus asked."
  • Lenehan: "Who may he be? he asked. Can you ask? Stephen, the youthful bard."
  • Mr Dedalus: "I see, he said. I didn't recognise him for the moment. I hear he is keeping very select company. Have you seen him lately?"
  • Lenehan: "I quaffed the nectarbowl with him this very day, said Lenehan. In Mooney's en ville and in Mooney's sur mer."
  • Lenehan: "The élite of Erin hung upon his lips. The ponderous pundit, Hugh MacHugh, Dublin's most brilliant scribe and editor and that minstrel boy of the wild wet west who is known by the euphonious appellation of the O'Madden Burke."
  • Mr Dedalus: "That must have been highly diverting, said he. I see."
  • Mr Dedalus: "I see you have moved the piano."
  • Miss Douce: "The tuner was in today, miss Douce replied, tuning it for the smoking concert and I was only limited to tinkling the brass instrument the tuningfork was struck on the table, a fork, four forks."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Is that a fact?"
  • Miss Douce: "Didn't he, miss Kennedy? The real classical, you know. And blind too, poor fellow. Not twenty I'm sure he was."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Is that a fact? Mr Dedalus said."
  • Miss Douce: "So sad to look at his face, miss Douce condoled."
  • Shopgirl: "Twopence, sir, the shopgirl dared to say."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Aha... I was forgetting... Excuse..."
  • Mr Dedalus: "And four."
  • Mr Dedalus: "The bright stars fade..."
  • Mr Dedalus: "... the morn is breaking."
  • Mr Dedalus: "The dewdrops pearl..."
  • Mr Dedalus: "But look this way, he said, rose of Castile."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Did she fall or was she pushed? he asked her."
  • Miss Douce: "Ask no questions and you'll hear no lies."
  • Mr Dedalus: "See the conquering hero comes."
  • Mr Dedalus: "And I from thee..."
  • Blazes Boylan: "I heard you were round, said Blazes Boylan."
  • Lenehan: "What's your cry? Glass of bitter? Glass of bitter, please, and a sloegin for me."
  • Lenehan: "O! O! jerked Lenehan, gasping at each stretch. O!"
  • Blazes Boylan: "Why don't you grow? asked Blazes Boylan."
  • Lenehan: "Fine goods in small parcels."
  • Blazes Boylan: "Here's fortune, Blazes said."
  • Lenehan: "Hold on, said Lenehan, till I..."
  • Lenehan: "Fortune, he wished, lifting his bubbled ale."
  • Lenehan: "Sceptre will win in a canter, he said."
  • Blazes Boylan: "I plunged a bit, said Boylan winking and drinking. Not on my own, you know. Fancy of a friend of mine."
  • Blazes Boylan: "What time is that? asked Blazes Boylan. Four?"
  • Lenehan: "Let's hear the time, he said."
  • Lenehan: "Go on, pressed Lenehan. There's no-one. He never heard."
  • Mr Dedalus: "... to Flora's lips did hie."
  • Miss Douce: "Please, please."
  • Mr Dedalus: "I could not leave thee..."
  • Miss Douce: "Afterwits, miss Douce promised coyly."
  • Lenehan: "No, now, urged Lenehan. Sonnez la cloche! O do! There's no-one."
  • Lenehan: "Go on! Do! Sonnez!"
  • Lenehan: "La cloche! cried gleeful Lenehan. Trained by owner. No sawdust there."
  • Miss Douce: "You're the essence of vulgarity, she in gliding said."
  • Mr Dedalus: "... Sweetheart, goodbye!"
  • Blazes Boylan: "I'm off, said Boylan with impatience."
  • Lenehan: "Wait a shake, begged Lenehan, drinking quickly. I wanted to tell you. Tom Rochford..."
  • Blazes Boylan: "Come on to blazes, said Blazes Boylan, going."
  • Lenehan: "Got the horn or what? he said. Wait. I'm coming."
  • Lenehan: "How do you do, Mr Dollard?"
  • Ben Dollard: "Eh? How do? How do? Ben Dollard's vague bass answered, turning an instant of Father Cowley's woe."
  • Ben Dollard: "Hoho, we will, Ben Dollard yodled jollily. Come on, Simon. Give us a ditty."
  • Mr Dedalus: "What's that? Mr Dedalus said. I was only vamping, man."
  • Ben Dollard: "Come on, come on, Ben Dollard called. Begone dull care. Come, Bob."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Love and War, Ben, Mr Dedalus said. God be with old times."
  • Father Cowley: "Poor old Goodwin was the pianist that night, Father Cowley reminded them. It was a long and weary night."
  • Mr Dedalus: "A symposium all his own, Mr Dedalus said. The devil wouldn't stop him."
  • Ben Dollard: "God, do you remember? Ben bulky Dollard said, turning from the punished keyboard."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Our friend Bloom turned in handy that night, Mr Dedalus said. Where's my pipe, by the way?"
  • Ben Dollard: "I saved the situation, Ben, I think."
  • Mr Dedalus: "You did, averred Ben Dollard. I remember those tight trousers too."
  • Ben Dollard: "I knew he was on the rocks, he said. The wife was playing the piano in the coffee palace on Saturdays for a very trifling consideration and who was it gave me the wheeze she was doing the other business?"
  • Mr Dedalus: "By God, she had some luxurious operacloaks and things there."
  • Ben Dollard: "Merrion square style. Balldresses, by God, and court dresses. He wouldn't see you in a hurry."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Ay, ay, Mr Dedalus nodded. Mrs Marion Bloom has left off clothes of all descriptions."
  • Ben Dollard: "What's this her name was? A buxom lassy. Marion..."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Tweedy."
  • Ben Dollard: "Yes. Is she alive?"
  • Mr Dedalus: "And kicking."
  • Ben Dollard: "She was a daughter of..."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Daughter of the regiment."
  • Ben Dollard: "Yes, begad. I remember the old drummajor."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Irish? I don't know, faith. Is she, Simon?"
  • Mr Dedalus: "Buccinator muscle is... What?... Bit rusty... O, she is... My Irish Molly, O."
  • Ben Dollard: "From the rock of Gibraltar... all the way."
  • Mr Dedalus: "When love absorbs my ardent soul..."
  • Father Cowley: "War! War! cried Father Cowley. You're the warrior."
  • Ben Dollard: "So I am, Ben Warrior laughed. I was thinking of your landlord. Love or money."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Sure, you'd burst the tympanum of her ear, man, Mr Dedalus said, returning with fetched pipe."
  • Father Cowley: "Not to mention another membrane, Father Cowley added. Half time, Ben."
  • Mr Dedalus: "............ my ardent soul"
  • George Lidwell: "Your friends are inside, Mr Lidwell."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Ah, I couldn't, man, Mr Dedalus said, shy, listless."
  • Ben Dollard: "Go on, blast you! Ben Dollard growled. Get it out in bits."
  • Father Cowley: "M'appari, Simon, Father Cowley said."
  • Ben Dollard: "Go on, Simon."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Ah, sure, my dancing days are done, Ben... Well..."
  • Father Cowley: "No, Simon, Father Cowley turned. Play it in the original. One flat."
  • Father Cowley: "Here, Simon, I'll accompany you, he said. Get up."
  • Bloom: "Which air is that? asked Leopold Bloom."
  • Mr Dedalus: "All is lost now."
  • Bloom: "A beautiful air, said Bloom lost Leopold. I know it well."
  • Father Cowley: "With it, Simon."
  • Ben Dollard: "It, Simon."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Ladies and gentlemen, I am most deeply obliged by your kind solicitations. I have no money but if you will lend me your attention I shall endeavour to sing to you of a heart bowed down."
  • Ben Dollard: "It, Simon."
  • Mr Dedalus: "I have no money but if you will lend me your attention I shall endeavour to sing to you of a heart bowed down."
  • Mr Dedalus: "When first I saw that form endearing..."
  • Bloom: "Si Dedalus' voice, he said."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Sorrow from me seemed to depart."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Full of hope and all delighted..."
  • Mr Dedalus: "But alas, 'twas idle dreaming..."
  • Mr Dedalus: "... ray of hope is..."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Each graceful look..."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Charmed my eye..."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Martha! Ah, Martha!"
  • Mr Dedalus: "Co-ome, thou lost one!"
  • Mr Dedalus: "To me!"
  • Audience: "Bravo! Clapclap. Good man, Simon. Clappyclapclap. Encore! Clapclipclap clap."
  • Ben Dollard: "Seven days in jail, Ben Dollard said, on bread and water. Then you'd sing, Simon, like a garden thrush."
  • Miss Douce: "Don't make half so free, said she, till we are better acquainted."
  • Bloom: "Yes, Mr Bloom said, teasing the curling catgut line. It certainly is."
  • Goulding: "Grandest number in the whole opera, Goulding said."
  • Bloom: "It is, Bloom said."
  • Richie: "Answering an ad? keen Richie's eyes asked Bloom."
  • Bloom: "Yes, Mr Bloom said. Town traveller. Nothing doing, I expect."
  • Miss Douce: "Listen! she bade him."
  • Bloom: "What are the wild waves saying? he asked her, smiled."
  • Father Cowley: "Qui sdegno, Ben, said Father Cowley."
  • Tom Kernan: "No, Ben, Tom Kernan interfered. The Croppy Boy. Our native Doric."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Ay do, Ben, Mr Dedalus said. Good men and true."
  • Ben Dollard: "Do, do, they begged in one."
  • Ben Dollard: "What key? Six sharps?"
  • Ben Dollard: "F sharp major, Ben Dollard said."
  • Ben Dollard: "Bless me, father, Dollard the croppy cried. Bless me and let me go to sleep."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Come on, Ben, Simon Dedalus cried. By God, you're as good as ever you were."
  • Tom Kernan: "Better, said Tomgin Kernan. Most trenchant rendition of that ballad, upon my soul and honour it is."
  • Father Cowley: "Lablache, said Father Cowley."
  • George Lidwell: "You're looking rubicund, George Lidwell said."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Ben machree, said Mr Dedalus, clapping Ben's fat back shoulderblade."
  • Ben Dollard: "Fat of death, Simon, Ben Dollard growled."
  • Audience: "Mr Dollard, they murmured low."
  • Audience: "Dollard, murmured tankard."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Was he? Mr Dedalus said, returning with fetched pipe. I was with him one day and he told me he was living in the south of Dublin."
  • Ben Dollard: "Ay, the Lord have mercy on him."
  • Mr Dedalus: "By the bye there's a tuningfork in there on the..."
  • George Lidwell: "The wife has a fine voice. Or had. What? Lidwell asked."
  • Miss Douce: "O, that must be the tuner, Lydia said to Simonlionel first I saw, forgot, when he was here."
  • Ben Dollard: "Shout! Ben Dollard shouted, pouring. Sing out!"
  • Father Cowley: "'lldo! cried Father Cowley."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Very, Mr Dedalus said, staring hard at a headless sardine."
  • Mr Dedalus: "Very, he stared. The lower register, for choice."
  • Ben Dollard: "True men like you men."
  • Ben Dollard: "Ay, ay, Ben."
  • Ben Dollard: "Will lift your glass with us."

Chapter 12 - Cyclops

↑ Back to Gilbert's Table

Setting: Barney Kiernan's pub, narrated by an unnamed citizen.

Dialogue:

  • Narrator: "Lo, Joe, says I. How are you blowing? Did you see that bloody lunatic Breen round there?"
  • Joe Hynes: "Soot's luck, says Joe. Who's the old ballocks you were talking to?"
  • Narrator: "Old Troy, says I, was in the force. I'm on two minds not to give that fellow a puck in the eye."
  • Joe Hynes: "What are you doing round those parts? says Joe."
  • Narrator: "Devil a much, says I. There's a bloody big foxy thief beyond by the garrison church at the corner of Chicken lane."
  • Joe Hynes: "Circumcised? says Joe."
  • Narrator: "Ay, says I. A bit off the top. An old plumber named Geraghty. I'm hanging about waiting to see if he'll come out."
  • Joe Hynes: "That the lay you're on now? says Joe."
  • Narrator: "Ay, says I. How are the mighty fallen! Collector of bad and doubtful debts."
  • Joe Hynes: "Are you a strict t.t.? says Joe."
  • Narrator: "Not taking anything between drinks, says I."
  • Joe Hynes: "What about paying our respects to our friend? says Joe."
  • Narrator: "Who? says I. Sure, he's out in John of God's off his head, poor man."
  • Joe Hynes: "Drinking his own stuff? says Joe."
  • Narrator: "Ay, says I. Whisky and water on the brain."
  • Joe Hynes: "Come around to Barney Kiernan's, says Joe. I want to see the citizen."
  • Narrator: "Barney mavourneen's be it, says I. Anything strange or wonderful, Joe?"
  • Joe Hynes: "Not a word, says Joe. I was up at that meeting in the City Arms."
  • Narrator: "What was that, Joe? says I."
  • Joe Hynes: "Cattle traders, says Joe, about the foot and mouth disease. I want to see the citizen."
  • Narrator: "There he is, says I, in his gloryhole, with his cruiskeen lawn and his load of papers, working for the cause."
  • Citizen: "Stand and deliver, says he."
  • Joe Hynes: "That's all right, citizen, says Joe. Friends here."
  • Citizen: "Pass, friends, says he."
  • Citizen: "What's your opinion of the times?"
  • Citizen: "I think the markets are on a rise, says he, sliding his hand down his fork."
  • Citizen: "Foreign wars is the cause of it."
  • Citizen: "It's the Russians wish to tyrannise."
  • Narrator: "Arrah, give over your bloody codding, Joe, says I. I've a thirst on me that wouldn't be washed away by a gallon of porter."
  • Joe Hynes: "Give it a name, citizen, says Joe."
  • Citizen: "Wine of the country, says he."
  • Joe Hynes: "What's yours? says Joe."
  • Narrator: "Ditto MacAnaspey, says I."
  • Joe Hynes: "Three pints, Terry, says Joe. And how's the old heart, citizen? says he."
  • Citizen: "Never better, a chara, says he. What Garry? Are we going to win? Eh?"
  • Citizen: "And there's more where that came from, says he."
  • Narrator: "Were you robbing the poorbox, Joe? says I."
  • Joe Hynes: "Sweat of my brow, says Joe. 'Twas the prudent member gave me the loan of his notes."
  • Narrator: "I saw him before I met you, says I, sloping around by Pill lane and Greek street with his cod's eye counting up all the guts of the fish."
  • Citizen: "For the old woman of Prince's street, says the citizen, the subsidised organ. The pledgebound party on the floor of the house."
  • Citizen: "Gordon, Barnfield crescent, Exeter; Redmayne of Iffley, Saint Anne's on the Sea; the Honourable Gerald Ward A.D.C. to the Most Noble the Marquis of Hartington."
  • Joe Hynes: "I know that fellow, says Joe, from bitter experience."
  • Citizen: "Cockburn. Dimsey, wife of David Dimsey, late of the admiralty: Miller, Belfast; Cook, the chemist."
  • Joe Hynes: "Ah, well, says Joe, handing round the boose. Thanks be to God they had the decency not to come over here to Ireland."
  • Citizen: "I will, says he, honourable person."
  • Narrator: "Health, Joe, says I. And all down the form."
  • Citizen: "Look at him, says he. Breen. He's traipsing all round Dublin with a postcard someone sent him with U. p: up on it."
  • Narrator: "Take a what? says I."
  • Citizen: "Libel action, says he, for ten thousand pounds."
  • Narrator: "O hell! says I."
  • Joe Hynes: "Who? says Joe."
  • Alf Bergan: "Breen, says Alf. He was in John Henry Menton's and then he went round to Collis and Ward's and then Tomlinson's for the mate of the Bride that was run down by the General Slocum."
  • Joe Hynes: "When is long John going to hang that fellow in Mountjoy? says Joe."
  • Bob Doran: "Bergan, says Bob Doran, waking up. Is that Alf Bergan?"
  • Alf Bergan: "Yes, says Alf. Hanging? Wait till I show you. Here, Terry, give us a pen and ink."
  • Bob Doran: "Who are you laughing at? says Bob Doran. Is that Bergan?"
  • Alf Bergan: "Hurry up, Terry boy, says Alf."
  • Citizen: "What's that bloody freemason doing, says the citizen, prowling up and down outside?"
  • Joe Hynes: "What's that? says Joe."
  • Alf Bergan: "Here you are, says Alf, chucking out the rhino. Talking about hanging, look at all the ones he hanged or electrocuted or otherwise put to death."
  • Narrator: "Are you codding? says I."
  • Alf Bergan: "Honest injun, says Alf. Read them."
  • Bob Doran: "Who are you laughing at? says Bob Doran."
  • Joe Hynes: "How's Willy Murray those times, Alf?"
  • Alf Bergan: "I don't know, says Alf. I saw him just now in Capel street with Paddy Dignam."
  • Joe Hynes: "You what? says Joe, throwing down the letters. With who?"
  • Alf Bergan: "With Dignam, says Alf."
  • Joe Hynes: "Is it Paddy? says Joe."
  • Alf Bergan: "Yes, says Alf. Why?"
  • Joe Hynes: "Don't you know he's dead? says Joe."
  • Alf Bergan: "Paddy Dignam dead! says Alf."
  • Joe Hynes: "Ay, says Joe."
  • Alf Bergan: "Sure I'm after seeing him not five minutes ago, says Alf, as plain as a pikestaff."
  • Bob Doran: "Who's dead? says Bob Doran."
  • Joe Hynes: "You saw his ghost then, says Joe, God between us and harm."
  • Alf Bergan: "What? says Alf. Good Christ, only five... What?... And Willy Murray with him?"
  • Bob Doran: "What about Dignam? says Bob Doran. Who's talking about...?"
  • Alf Bergan: "Dead! says Alf. He's no more dead than you are."
  • Joe Hynes: "Maybe so, says Joe. They took the liberty of burying him this morning anyway."
  • Alf Bergan: "Paddy? says Alf."
  • Joe Hynes: "Ay, says Joe. He paid the debt of nature, God be merciful to him."
  • Alf Bergan: "Good Christ! says Alf."
  • Citizen: "There he is again, says the citizen, staring out."
  • Narrator: "Who? says I."
  • Citizen: "Bloom, says he. He's on point duty up and down there for the last ten minutes."
  • Narrator: "Good Christ! says he. I could have sworn it was him."
  • Citizen: "Who said Christ is good?"
  • Alf Bergan: "I beg your parsnips, says Alf."
  • Bob Doran: "Is that a good Christ, says Bob Doran, to take away poor little Willy Dignam?"
  • Alf Bergan: "Ah, well, says Alf, trying to pass it off. He's over all his troubles."
  • Bob Doran: "He's a bloody ruffian, I say, to take away poor little Willy Dignam."
  • Bob Doran: "The finest man, says he, snivelling, the finest purest character."
  • Bob Doran: "The noblest, the truest, says he. And he's gone, poor little Willy, poor little Paddy Dignam."
  • Citizen: "Come in, come on, he won't eat you, says the citizen."
  • Joe Hynes: "O, Christ M'Keown, says Joe, reading one of the letters. Listen to this."
  • Narrator: "Show us, Joe, says I."
  • Joe Hynes: "... private Arthur Chace for fowl murder of Jessie Tilsit in Portsmouth and the Adjutant and Regimental Sergeant Major Major Ricketts of the Durham Light Infantry."
  • Narrator: "Jesus, says I."
  • Joe Hynes: "... Billington executed the awful murderer Toad Smith..."
  • Joe Hynes: "Hold hard, says Joe, i have a special nack of putting the noose once in he can't get out hoping to be reprieved."
  • Citizen: "And a barbarous bloody barbarian he is too, says the citizen."
  • Joe Hynes: "And the dirty scrawl of the wretch, says Joe. Here, says he, take them to hell out of my sight."
  • Joe Hynes: "Give us one of your prime stinkers, Terry, says Joe."
  • Citizen: "They're all barbers, says he, from the black country that would hang their own fathers for five quid down and travelling expenses."
  • Alf Bergan: "There's one thing it hasn't a deterrent effect on, says Alf."
  • Joe Hynes: "What's that? says Joe."
  • Alf Bergan: "The poor bugger's tool that's being hanged, says Alf."
  • Joe Hynes: "That so? says Joe."
  • Alf Bergan: "God's truth, says Alf. I heard that from the head warder that was in Kilmainham when they hanged Joe Brady, the invincible."
  • Joe Hynes: "Ruling passion strong in death, says Joe, as someone said."
  • Bloom: "That can be explained by science, says Bloom. It's only a natural phenomenon, don't you see, because of the..."
  • Narrator: "Give us the paw! Give the paw, doggy! Good old doggy! Give the paw here! Give us the paw!"
  • Citizen: "The memory of the dead, says the citizen taking up his pintglass and glaring at Bloom."
  • Joe Hynes: "Ay, ay, says Joe."
  • Bloom: "You don't grasp my point, says Bloom. What I mean is..."
  • Citizen: "Sinn Fein! says the citizen. Sinn Fein amhain! The friends we love are by our side and the foes we hate before us."
  • Narrator: "God blimey if she aint a clinker, that there bleeding tart. Blimey it makes me kind of bleeding cry, straight it does, that there bleeding heart."
  • Citizen: "Afraid he'll bite you? says the citizen, jeering."
  • Narrator: "No, says I. But he might take my leg for a lamppost."
  • Citizen: "What's on you, Garry? says he."
  • Citizen: "I will, says he, a chara, to show there's no ill feeling."
  • Joe Hynes: "Could you make a hole in another pint?"
  • Narrator: "Could a swim duck? says I."
  • Joe Hynes: "Same again, Terry, says Joe. Are you sure you won't have anything in the way of liquid refreshment?"
  • Bloom: "Thank you, no, says Bloom. As a matter of fact I just wanted to meet Martin Cunningham, don't you see."
  • Joe Hynes: "Holy Wars, says Joe, laughing, that's a good one if old Shylock is landed. So the wife comes out top dog, what?"
  • Bloom: "Well, that's a point, says Bloom, for the wife's admirers."
  • Joe Hynes: "Whose admirers? says Joe."
  • Bloom: "The wife's advisers, I mean, says Bloom."
  • Bloom: "Let me, said he, so far presume upon our acquaintance which, however slight it may appear at first sight, to suggest..."
  • Joe Hynes: "No, rejoined the other, I appreciate to the full the motives which actuate your conduct and I shall discharge the office you entrust to me consoled by the reflection that, though your fellow may be a minor, yet you will find in his young heart a recompense for your trust."
  • Bloom: "Then suffer me to take your hand, said he. The goodness of your heart, I feel sure, will dictate to you better than my inadequate words."
  • Joe Hynes: "Here, says Joe, doing the honours. Here, citizen."
  • Bloom: "Slan leat, says he."
  • Narrator: "Fortune, Joe, says I. Good health, citizen."
  • Joe Hynes: "Who is the long fellow running for the mayoralty, Alf? says Joe."
  • Alf Bergan: "Friend of yours, says Alf."
  • Joe Hynes: "Nannan? says Joe. The mimber?"
  • Alf Bergan: "I won't mention any names, says Alf."
  • Joe Hynes: "I thought so, says Joe. I saw him up at that meeting now with William Field, M.P."
  • Citizen: "Hairy Iopas, says the citizen, that exploded volcano, the darling of all countries and the idol of his own."
  • Joe Hynes: "Anyhow, says Joe, Field and Nannetti are going over tonight to London to ask about the Irish language."
  • Bloom: "Are you sure, says Bloom, the councillor is going? I wanted to see him, as it happens."
  • Joe Hynes: "Well, he's going off by the mailboat, says Joe, tonight."
  • Bloom: "That's too bad, says Bloom. I wanted particularly. Perhaps only Mr Field is going. I couldn't phone to him. No. You're sure?"
  • Joe Hynes: "Nannan's going too, says Joe. The league told him to ask a question tomorrow about the commissioner of police forbidding Irish games in the park."
  • Joe Hynes: "There's the man, says Joe, that made the Gaelic sports revival. There he is sitting there. He made it all up."
  • Citizen: "Na bacleis, says the citizen, letting on to be modest. There was a time, none of your doddies, and I'm not saying it in any boastful spirit, when I was able to do a bit myself."
  • Joe Hynes: "Put it there, citizen, says Joe. You were and a bloody sight better."
  • Alf Bergan: "Is that really a fact? says Alf."
  • Bloom: "Yes, says Bloom. That's well known. Did you not know that?"
  • Alf Bergan: "Talking about violent exercise, says Alf, were you at that Keogh-Bennett match?"
  • Joe Hynes: "No, says Joe."
  • Alf Bergan: "I heard So and So made a cool hundred quid over it, says Alf."
  • Joe Hynes: "Who? Blazes? says Joe."
  • Bloom: "What I meant about tennis, for example, is the agility and training of the eye."
  • Alf Bergan: "Ay, Blazes, says Alf. He let out that Myler was on the beer to run up the price and swindle the public."
  • Citizen: "We know him, says the citizen. The traitor's son. We know what put English gold in his pocket."
  • Joe Hynes: "True for you, says Joe."
  • Alf Bergan: "Now, don't you think, Bergan?"
  • Alf Bergan: "Myler dusted the floor with him, says Alf. Heenan and Sayers was only a bloody fool to it."
  • Alf Bergan: "He knows which side his bread is buttered, says Alf. I hear he's running a concert tour. Up to the north."
  • Joe Hynes: "He is, says Joe. Isn't he?"
  • Bloom: "Who? says Bloom. Ah, yes. That's quite true. Yes, a kind of summer tour, you see. Just to keep in touch with the public."
  • Joe Hynes: "Mrs B. is the bright particular star, isn't she? says Joe."
  • Bloom: "My wife? says Bloom. She's singing, yes. I think it will be a success too. He's an excellent man to organise. Excellent."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Hello, Ned."
  • Ned Lambert: "Hello, Alf."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Hello, Jack."
  • Ned Lambert: "Hello, Joe."
  • Citizen: "God save you, says the citizen."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Save you kindly, says J. J. What'll it be, Ned?"
  • Ned Lambert: "Half one, says Ned."
  • Joe Hynes: "Were you round at the court? says Joe."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Yes, says J. J. He'll square that, Ned, says he."
  • Ned Lambert: "Hope so, says Ned."
  • Alf Bergan: "Did you see that bloody lunatic Breen round there? says Alf. U. p: up."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Yes, says J. J. Looking for a private detective."
  • Ned Lambert: "Ay, says Ned. And he wanted right go wrong to address the court only Martin Cunningham dissuaded him."
  • Alf Bergan: "Ten thousand pounds, says Alf, laughing. God, I'd give anything to see him do it."
  • Joe Hynes: "Was it you did it, Alf? says Joe. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you Jimmy Johnson."
  • Alf Bergan: "Me? says Alf. Don't cast your nasturtiums on my character."
  • Joe Hynes: "Whatever statement you make, says Joe, will be taken down in evidence against you."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Of course an action would lie, says J. J. It implies that he is not compos mentis. U. p: up."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Yes, says J. J., but the truth of a libel is no defence to an indictment for publishing it in the eyes of the law."
  • Joe Hynes: "Ha ha, Alf, says Joe."
  • Bloom: "Still, says Bloom, on account of the poor woman, I mean his wife."
  • Citizen: "Pity about her, says the citizen. Or any other woman marries a half and half."
  • Bloom: "How half and half? says Bloom. Do you mean he..."
  • Citizen: "Half and half I mean, says the citizen. A fellow that's neither fish nor flesh nor good red herring."
  • Joe Hynes: "Nor good red herring, says Joe."
  • Citizen: "That what's I mean, says the citizen. A pishogue, if you know what that is."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "And moreover, says J. J., a postcard is publication. It was held to be sufficient evidence of malice in the testcase Sadgrove v. Hole."
  • Ned Lambert: "Well, good health, Jack, says Ned."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Good health, Ned, says J. J."
  • Joe Hynes: "There he is again, says Joe."
  • Alf Bergan: "Where? says Alf."
  • Joe Hynes: "How did that Canada swindle case go off? says Joe."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Remanded, says J. J."
  • Joe Hynes: "Who tried the case? says Joe."
  • Ned Lambert: "Recorder, says Ned."
  • Alf Bergan: "Poor old sir Frederick, says Alf, you can cod him up to the two eyes."
  • Ned Lambert: "Heart as big as a lion, says Ned. Tell him a tale of woe about arrears of rent and a sick wife and a squad of kids and, faith, he'll dissolve in tears on the bench."
  • Alf Bergan: "Ay, says Alf. Reuben J was bloody lucky he didn't clap him in the dock the other day for suing poor little Gumley that's minding stones for the corporation there near Butt bridge."
  • Citizen: "A most scandalous thing! This poor hardworking man! How many children? Ten, was it?"
  • Citizen: "Yes, your worship. And my wife has the typhoid."
  • Citizen: "And the wife with typhoid fever! Scandalous! Leave the court immediately, sir. No, sir, I don't want any of your back answers. The insolence of the fellow! Imagine! I'm a magistrate, do you mind?"
  • Citizen: "Those are nice things, says the citizen, coming over here to Ireland filling the country with bugs."
  • Bloom: "Because, you see, says Bloom, for an advertisement you must have repetition. That's the whole secret."
  • Joe Hynes: "Rely on me, says Joe."
  • Citizen: "Swindling the peasants, says the citizen, and the poor of Ireland. We want no more strangers in our house."
  • Bloom: "O, I'm sure that will be all right, Hynes, says Bloom. It's just that I just wanted to ask you about..."
  • Joe Hynes: "Consider that done, says Joe."
  • Bloom: "Very kind of you, says Bloom."
  • Citizen: "The strangers, says the citizen. Our own fault. We let them come in."
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Decree nisi, says J. J."
  • Citizen: "A dishonoured wife, says the citizen, that's what's the cause of all our misfortunes."
  • Alf Bergan: "And here she is, says Alf, that was giggling over the Police Gazette with Terry on the counter, in all her warpaint."
  • Narrator: "Give us a squint at her, says I."
  • Joe Hynes: "O jakers, Jenny, says Joe, how short your shirt is!"
  • Narrator: "There's hair, Joe, says I. Get a queer old tailend of corned beef off of that one, what?"
  • Citizen: "Well, says the citizen, what's the latest from the scene of action?"
  • Citizen: "It's on the march, says the citizen. To hell with the bloody brutal Sassenachs and their patois."
  • Citizen: "Their syphilisation, you mean, says the citizen. To hell with them! The curse of a goodfornothing God light sideways on the bloody thicklugged sons of whores' gets!"
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "The European family, says J. J...."
  • Citizen: "They're not European, says the citizen. I was in Europe with Kevin Egan of Paris. You wouldn't see a trace of them or their language anywhere in Europe except in a cabinet d'aisance."
  • Citizen: "Full many a flower is born to blush unseen."
  • Citizen: "Conspuez les Anglais! Perfide Albion!"
  • Narrator: "What's up with you, says I to Lenehan. You look like a fellow that had lost a bob and found a tanner."
  • Lenehan: "Gold cup, says he."
  • Terry: "Who won, Mr Lenehan? says Terry."
  • Terry: "And Bass's mare? says Terry."
  • Lenehan: "Still running, says he. We're all in a cart. Boylan plunged two quid on my tip Sceptre for himself and a lady friend."
  • Terry: "I had half a crown myself, says Terry, on Zinfandel that Mr Flynn gave me. Lord Howard de Walden's."
  • Lenehan: "Twenty to one, says Lenehan. Such is life in an outhouse. Throwaway, says he. Takes the biscuit, and talking about bunions. Frailty, thy name is Sceptre."
  • Lenehan: "Not there, my child, says he."
  • Joe Hynes: "Keep your pecker up, says Joe. She'd have won the money only for the other dog."
  • Bloom: "Some people, says Bloom, can see the mote in others' eyes but they can't see the beam in their own."
  • Citizen: "Raimeis, says the citizen. There's no-one as blind as the fellow that won't see, if you know what that means."
  • John Wyse Nolan: "As treeless as Portugal we'll be soon, says John Wyse, or Heligoland with its one tree if something is not done to reafforest the land."
  • Citizen: "Save them, says the citizen, the giant ash of Galway and the chieftain elm of Kildare with a fortyfoot bole and an acre of foliage."
  • Lenehan: "Europe has its eyes on you, says Lenehan."
  • Citizen: "And our eyes are on Europe, says the citizen. We had our trade with Spain and the French and with the Flemings before those mongrels were pupped, Spanish ale in Galway, the winebark on the winedark waterway."
  • Joe Hynes: "And will again, says Joe."
  • Citizen: "And with the help of the holy mother of God we will again, says the citizen, clapping his thigh, our trade and our manufactures that were ruined by the English brutal and tyrannous."
  • John Wyse Nolan: "Hear, hear to that, says John Wyse. What will you have?"
  • Lenehan: "An imperial yeomanry, says Lenehan, to celebrate the occasion."
  • John Wyse Nolan: "Half one, Terry, says John Wyse, and a hands up. Terry! Are you asleep?"
  • Terry: "Yes, sir, says Terry. Small whisky and bottle of Allsop. Right, sir."
  • Ned Lambert: "But what about the fighting navy, says Ned, that keeps our foes at bay?"
  • Citizen: "I'll tell you what about it, says the citizen. Hell upon earth it is. Read the revelations that's going on in the papers about flogging on the training ships at Portsmouth."
  • Citizen: "A rump and dozen, says the citizen, was what that old ruffian sir John Beresford called it but the modern God's Englishman calls it caning on the breech."
  • Citizen: "'Tis a custom more honoured in the breach than in the observance."
  • Citizen: "That's your glorious British navy, says the citizen, that bosses the earth."
  • Joe Hynes: "On which the sun never rises, says Joe."
  • Citizen: "And the tragedy of it is, says the citizen, they believe it. The unfortunate yahoos believe it."
  • Bloom: "But, says Bloom, isn't discipline the same everywhere. I mean wouldn't it be the same here if you put force against force?"
  • Citizen: "We'll put force against force, says the citizen. We have our greater Ireland beyond the sea."
  • Bloom: "Perfectly true, says Bloom. But my point was..."
  • Ned Lambert: "We are a long time waiting for that day, citizen, says Ned. Since the poor old woman told us that the French were on the sea and landed at Killala."
  • John Wyse Nolan: "Ay, says John Wyse. We fought for the royal Stuarts that reneged us against the Williamites and they betrayed us."
  • Citizen: "The French! says the citizen. Set of dancing masters! Do you know what it is? They were never worth a roasted fart to Ireland."
  • Lenehan: "Conspuez les Français, says Lenehan, nobbling his beer."
  • Joe Hynes: "And as for the Prooshians and the Hanoverians, says Joe, haven't we had enough of those sausage-eating bastards on the throne from George the elector down to the German lad and the flatulent old bitch that's dead?"
  • J. J. O'Molloy: "Well, says J. J. We have Edward the peacemaker now."
  • Citizen: "Tell that to a fool, says the citizen. There's a bloody sight more pox than pax about that boyo."
  • Joe Hynes: "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 pictures of all the horses his jockeys rode."
  • Citizen: "They ought to have stuck up all the women he rode himself, says little Alf."
  • Citizen: "Considerations of space influenced their lordships' decision."
  • Joe Hynes: "Will you try another, citizen? says Joe."
  • Citizen: "Yes, sir, says he. I will."
  • Joe Hynes: "You? says Joe."
  • Narrator: "Beholden to you, Joe, says I. May your shadow never grow less."
  • Joe Hynes: "Repeat that dose, says Joe."
  • Bloom: "Persecution, says he, all the history of the world is full of it. Perpetuating national hatred among nations."
  • John Wyse Nolan: "But do you know what a nation means? says John Wyse."
  • Bloom: "Yes, says Bloom."
  • John Wyse Nolan: "What is it? says John Wyse."
  • Bloom: "A nation? says Bloom. A nation is the same people living in the same place."
  • Ned Lambert: "By God, then, says Ned, laughing, if that's so I'm a nation for I'm living in the same place for the past five years."
  • Bloom: "Or also living in different places."
  • Joe Hynes: "That covers my case, says Joe."
  • Citizen: "What is your nation if I may ask? says the citizen."
  • Bloom: "Ireland, says Bloom. I was born here. Ireland."
  • Citizen: "After you with the push, Joe, says he, taking out his handkerchief to swab himself dry."
  • Joe Hynes: "Here you are, citizen, says Joe. Take that in your right hand and repeat after me the following words."
  • Narrator: "Show us over the drink, says I. Which is which?"
  • Joe Hynes: "That's mine, says Joe, as the devil said to the dead policeman."
  • Bloom: "And I belong to a race too, says Bloom, that is hated and persecuted. Also now. This very moment. This very instant."
  • Citizen: "Robbed, says he. Plundered. Insulted. Persecuted. Taking what belongs to us by right."
  • Citizen: "Are you talking about the new Jerusalem? says the citizen."
  • Bloom: "I'm talking about injustice, says Bloom."
  • Citizen: "Right, says John Wyse. Stand up to it then with force like men."
  • Bloom: "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 really life."
  • Citizen: "What? says Alf."
  • Bloom: "Love, says Bloom. I mean the opposite of hatred."
  • Citizen: "By Jesus, I'll brain that bloody jewman for using the holy name. By Jesus, I'll crucify him so I will."

Chapter 13 - Nausicaa

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Setting: Sandymount strand in the evening, focusing on Gerty MacDowell and Bloom.

Dialogue:

  • Cissy Caffrey: "Now, baby, Cissy Caffrey said. Say out big, big. I want a drink of water."
  • Baby: "A jink a jink a jawbo."
  • Cissy Caffrey: "Come here, Tommy, his sister called imperatively. At once! And you, Jacky, for shame to let poor little Tommy such a big boy run on the road."
  • Cissy Caffrey: "Nasty bold Jacky! she cried."
  • Cissy Caffrey: "What's your name? Butter and cream?"
  • Edy Boardman: "Tell us who is your sweetheart, spoke Edy Boardman. Is Cissy your sweetheart?"
  • Tommy Caffrey: "Nao, tearful Tommy said."
  • Cissy Caffrey: "Is Edy Boardman your sweetheart? Cissy queried."
  • Tommy Caffrey: "Nao, Tommy said."
  • Edy Boardman: "I know, Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an arch glance from her shortsighted eyes. I know who is Tommy's sweetheart, Gerty is Tommy's sweetheart."
  • Tommy Caffrey: "Nao, Tommy said on the verge of tears."
  • Tommy Caffrey: "You're not my sister, naughty Tommy said. It's my ball."
  • Cissy Caffrey: "Anything for a quiet life, laughed Ciss."
  • Edy Boardman: "I'd like to give him something, she said, so I would, where I won't say."
  • Cissy Caffrey: "On the beeoteetom, laughed Cissy merrily."
  • Edy Boardman: "Let him! she said with a pert toss of her head and a piquant tilt of her nose. Give him one on the nose and make him smack the lips."
  • Edy Boardman: "If you fail try again, Edy Boardman said."
  • Cissy Caffrey: "Say papa, baby. Say pa pa pa pa pa pa pa."
  • Baby: "Haja ja ja haja."
  • Baby: "Habaa baaaahabaaa baaaa."
  • Cissy Caffrey: "Jacky! Tommy!"
  • Edy Boardman: "A penny for your thoughts."
  • Gerty MacDowell: "What? replied Gerty with a smile reinforced by the whitest of teeth. I was only wondering was it late."
  • Cissy Caffrey: "Wait, said Cissy, I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time by his conundrum."
  • Gerty MacDowell: "O, responded Gerty, quick as lightning, laughing, and the proud head feebly. I was only thinking of the time."
  • Cissy Caffrey: "O my! Puddeny pie! protested Ciss. He has his bib destroyed."
  • Edy Boardman: "O, look, Cissy!"
  • Cissy Caffrey: "It's fireworks, Cissy Caffrey said."
  • Cissy Caffrey: "Come on, Gerty, Cissy called. It's the bazaar fireworks."
  • Cissy Caffrey: "Gerty! Gerty! We're going. Come on. We can see from farther up."

Chapter 14 - Oxen of the Sun

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Setting: The maternity hospital where medical students carouse while a woman gives birth.

Dialogue:

  • Buck Mulligan: "Send us bright one, light one, Horhorn, quickening and wombfruit."
  • Stephen: "Murmur, sirs, is eke oft among lay folk. Both babe and parent now 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, Very God, Lord and Giver of Life? For, sirs, he said, our lust is brief. We are means to those small creatures within us and nature has other ends than we."
  • Dixon: "Wist he what ends."
  • Crotthers: "Young Malachi's praise of that beast the unicorn how once in the millennium he cometh by his horn."
  • Stephen: "Of mother Church that would cast him out of her bosom, of law of canons, of Lilith, patron of abortions, of bigness wrought 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 woman which her man has but lain with, effectu secuto, or peradventure in her bath according to the opinions of Averroes and Moses Maimonides. He said also how at the end of the second month a human soul was infused and how in all our holy mother foldeth ever souls for God's greater glory whereas that earthly mother which was but a dam to bear beastly should die by canon for so saith he that holdeth the fisherman's seal, even that blessed Peter on which rock was holy church for all ages founded."
  • Dixon: "That is truth, pardy, and, or I err, a pregnant word."
  • Stephen: "He who stealeth from the poor lendeth to the Lord for he was of a wild manner when he was drunken and that he was now in that taking it appeared eftsoons."
  • Bloom: "As it was informed him, who had ever loved the art of physic as might a layman, and agreeing also with his experience of so seldomseen an accident it was good for that mother Church belike at one blow had birth and death pence and in such sort deliverly he scaped their questions."
  • Stephen: "Burke's! Outflings my lord Stephen, giving the cry, and a tag and bobtail of all them after."
  • Lynch: "By no manner of 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."
  • Dixon: "Young hopeful will be christened Mortimer Edward after the influential third cousin of Mr Purefoy."
  • Punch Costello: "The first three months she was not well, Staboo."
  • Nurse Quigley: "Hist ye should shame you nor was it not meet as she remembered them being her mind was to have all orderly against lord Andrew came for because she was jealous that no gasteful turmoil might shorten the honour of her guard."
  • Bloom: "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."
  • Dixon: "What was the reason why he had not cided to take friar's vows?"
  • Stephen: "Obedience in the womb, chastity in the tomb but involuntary poverty all his days."
  • Lenehan: "He had heard of those nefarious deeds and how, as he heard hereof counted, he had besmirched the lily virtue of a confiding female which was corruption of minors."
  • Stephen: "It was clean contrary to their suppose for he was the eternal son and ever virgin."
  • Stephen: "To bed, 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 connubial communion."
  • Dixon: "Well met they were, joyed, but, harkee, young sir, better were they named Beau Mount and Lecher for, by my troth, of such a mingling much might come."
  • Stephen: "Indeed to his best remembrance they had but the one doxy between them and she of the stews to make shift with in delights amorous for life ran very high in those days and the custom of the country approved."
  • Lynch: "Have a care to flout and witwanton as the god self was angered for his hellprate and paganry."
  • Punch Costello: "An old Nobodaddy was in his cups it was muchwhat indifferent and he would not lag behind his lead."
  • Madden: "Knocked him on his ribs upon that crack of doom."
  • Bloom: "It was no other thing but a hubbub noise that he heard, the discharge of fluid from the thunderhead, look you, having taken place, and all of the order of a natural phenomenon."
  • Stephen: "He was in the land of Phenomenon where he must for a certain one day die as he was like the rest too a passing 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."
  • Stephen: "That other land which is called Believe-on-Me, that is the land of promise which behoves to the king Delightful and shall be for ever where there is no death and no birth neither wiving nor mothering at which all shall come as many as believe on it."
  • Bird-in-the-Hand: "Ho, you pretty man, turn aside hither and I will show you a brave place."
  • Mulligan: "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 drunken minister coming out of the maternity hospal! Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus, Pater et Filius. A make, mister. The Denzille lane boys. Hell, blast ye! Scoot. Righto, Isaacs, shove em out of the bleeding limelight. Yous join uz, dear sir? No hentrusion in life. Lou heap good man. Allee samee dis bunch. En avant, mes enfants! Fire away number one on the gun. Burke's! Burke's! Thence they advanced five parasangs. Slattery's mounted foot. Where's that bleeding awfur? Parson Steve, apostates' creed! No, no, Mulligan! Abaft there! Shove ahead. Keep a watch on the clock. Chuckingout time. Mullee! What's on you? Ma mère m'a mariée. British Beatitudes! Retamplatan digidi boumboum. Ayes have it. To be printed and bound at the Druiddrum press by two designing females. Calf covers of pissedon green. Last word in 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 (attitudes!)"
  • Stephen: "Deine Kuh Trübsal melkest Du. Nun Trinkst Du die süsse Milch des Euters. See! it displodes for thee in abundance. Drink, man, an udderful! Mother's milk, Purefoy, the milk of human kin, milk too of those burgeoning stars overhead rutilant in thin rainvapour, punch milk, such as those rioters will quaff in their guzzling den, milk of madness, the honeymilk of 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 Partulam et Pertundam nunc est bibendum!"

Chapter 15 - Circe

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Setting: The brothel district of Dublin, with hallucinatory and theatrical elements.

Dialogue:

  • THE CALLS: "Wait, my love, and I'll be with you."
  • THE ANSWERS: "Round behind the stable."
  • THE CHILDREN: "Kithogue! Salute!"
  • THE IDIOT: "Grhahute!"
  • THE CHILDREN: "Where's the great light?"
  • THE IDIOT: "Ghaghahest."
  • CISSY CAFFREY: "I gave it to Molly / Because she was jolly, / The leg of the duck, / The leg of the duck."
  • THE VIRAGO: "Signs on you, hairy arse. More power the Cavan girl."
  • CISSY CAFFREY: "More luck to me. Cavan, Cootehill and Belturbet."
  • CISSY CAFFREY: "I gave it to Nelly / To stick in her belly, / The leg of the duck, / The leg of the duck."
  • THE VIRAGO: "More power the Cavan girl."
  • CISSY CAFFREY: "More luck to me. Cavan, Cootehill and Belturbet."
  • THE VIRAGO: "More power the Cavan girl."
  • CISSY CAFFREY: "More luck to me. Cavan, Cootehill and Belturbet."
  • THE VIRAGO: "More power the Cavan girl."
  • PRIVATE COMPTON: "Way for the parson."
  • PRIVATE CARR: "What ho, parson!"
  • CISSY CAFFREY: "She has it, she got it, / Wherever she put it, / The leg of the duck."
  • STEPHEN: "Vidi aquam egredientem de templo a latere dextro. Alleluia."
  • THE BAWD: "Sst! Come here till I tell you. Maidenhead inside. Sst!"
  • STEPHEN: "Et omnes ad quos pervenit aqua ista."
  • THE BAWD: "Trinity medicals. Fallopian tube. All prick and no pence."
  • EDY BOARDMAN: "And says the one: I seen you up Faithful place with your squarepusher, the greaser off the railway, in his cometobed hat. Did you, says I. That's not for you to say, says I. You never seen me in the mantrap with a married highlander, says I. The likes of her! Stag that one is! Stubborn as a mule! And her walking with two fellows the one time, Kilbride, the enginedriver, and lancecorporal Oliphant."
  • STEPHEN: "Salvi facti sunt."
  • LYNCH: "So that?"
  • STEPHEN: "So that gesture, not music, not odours, would be a universal language, the gift of tongues rendering visible not the lay sense but the first entelechy, the structural rhythm."
  • LYNCH: "Pornosophical philotheology. Metaphysics in Mecklenburg street!"
  • STEPHEN: "We have shrewridden Shakespeare and henpecked Socrates. Even the allwisest stagyrite was bitted, bridled and mounted by a light of love."
  • LYNCH: "Ba!"
  • STEPHEN: "Anyway, who wants two gestures to illustrate a loaf and a jug? This movement illustrates the loaf and jug of bread or wine in Omar. Hold my stick."
  • LYNCH: "Damn your yellow stick. Where are we going?"
  • STEPHEN: "Lecherous lynx, to la belle dame sans merci, Georgina Johnson, ad deam qui laetificat iuventutem meam."
  • LYNCH: "Which is the jug of bread? It skills not. That or the customhouse. Illustrate thou. Here take your crutch and walk."
  • THE URCHINS: "Mind out, mister!"
  • THE BELLS: "Haltyaltyaltyall."
  • BLOOM: "Ow!"
  • THE GONG: "Bang Bang Bla Bak Blud Bugg Bloo."
  • THE MOTORMAN: "Hey, shitbreeches, are you doing the hat trick?"
  • BLOOM: "No thoroughfare. Close shave that but cured the stitch. Must take up Sandow's exercises again. On the hands down. Insure against street accident too. The Providential. Poor mamma's panacea. Heel easily catch in track or bootlace in a cog. Day the wheel of the black Maria peeled off my shoe at Leonard's corner. 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. Bit light in the head. Monthly or effect of the other. Brainfogfag. That tired feeling. Too much for me now. Ow!"
  • BLOOM: "Buenas noches, señorita Blanca, que calle es esta?"
  • THE FIGURE: "Password. Sraid Mabbot."
  • BELLA: "My word! I'm all of a mucksweat."
  • BELLA: "You'll know me the next time."
  • BLOOM: "Passée. Mutton dressed as lamb. Long in the tooth and superfluous hair. A raw onion the last thing at night would make your breath smell like some wanton wench's... or those loathsome black beetles you see in the kitchen."
  • BELLA: "You're not game, in fact. Fbhracht!"
  • BLOOM: "Clean your nailless middle finger first, the cold spunk of your bully is dripping from your cockscomb. Take a handful of hay and wipe yourself."
  • BELLA: "I know you, canvasser! Dead cod!"
  • BLOOM: "I saw him, kipkeeper! Pox and gleet vendor!"
  • BELLA: "Which of you was playing the dead march from Saul?"
  • ZOE: "Me. Mind your cornflowers."
  • BELLA: "Here. This isn't a musical peepshow. And don't you smash that piano. Who's paying here?"
  • STEPHEN: "Gold. She has it."
  • BELLA: "Do you want three girls? It's ten shillings here."
  • STEPHEN: "A hundred thousand apologies."
  • BELLA, ZOE, KITTY, LYNCH, BLOOM: "The gentleman... ten shillings... paying for the three... allow me a moment... this gentleman pays separate... who's touching it?... ow! ... mind who you're pinching... are you staying the night or a short time?"
  • BELLA: "You're such a slyboots, old cocky. I could kiss you."
  • ZOE: "Him? Deep as a drawwell."
  • BELLA: "Show. I thought so. Knobby knuckles for the women."
  • ZOE: "Gridiron. Travels beyond the sea and marry money."
  • BELLA: "What? What is it?"
  • BELLA: "Ho ho ho ho."
  • BOYLAN: "You can apply your eye to the keyhole and play with yourself while I just go through her a few times."
  • BELLA, ZOE, FLORRY, KITTY: "Ho ho! Ha ha! Hee hee!"
  • LYNCH: "The mirror up to nature. Hu hu hu hu hu!"
  • BELLA: "None of that here. Come to the wrong shop."
  • LYNCH: "Let him alone. He's back from Paris."
  • BELLA: "An omelette on the... Ho! ho! ho! ho!... omelette on the..."
  • STEPHEN: "I love you, sir darling. Speak you englishman tongue for double entente cordiale."
  • BELLA: "Omelette..."
  • THE WHORES: "Encore! Encore!"
  • BELLA: "Police!"
  • BELLA: "After him!"
  • BELLA: "Who pays for the lamp? Here, you were with him. The lamp's broken."
  • BLOOM: "What lamp, woman?"
  • A WHORE: "He tore his coat."
  • BELLA: "Who's to pay for that? Ten shillings. You're a witness."
  • BLOOM: "Me? Ten shillings? Haven't you lifted enough off him? Didn't he...?"
  • BELLA: "Here, none of your tall talk. This isn't a brothel. A ten shilling house."
  • BELLA: "Jesus! Don't!"
  • BLOOM: "To show you how he hit the paper. There's not sixpenceworth of damage done. Ten shillings!"
  • FLORRY: "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. I don't want a scandal."
  • BELLA: "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! Zoe! Zoe!"
  • BELLA: "Who are. Incog!"
  • ZOE: "There's a row on."
  • CISSY CAFFREY: "Amn't I with you? Amn't I your girl? Cissy's your girl. Police!"
  • STEPHEN: "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!"

Chapter 16 - Eumaeus

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Setting: The cabman's shelter near the docks, late at night.

Dialogue:

  • Stephen: "And that one was Judas, Stephen said, who up to then had said nothing whatever."
  • Bloom: "Someone saluted you, Mr Bloom said."
  • Stephen: "Night!"
  • Corley: "I wouldn't ask you only, pursued he, on my solemn oath and God knows I'm not a man that's usually suspicious of people but I was just wondering if you might have such a thing as a spare shilling about you."
  • Stephen: "There'll be a job tomorrow or next day, Stephen told him, in a boys' school."
  • Corley: "Ah, God, Corley replied, sure I couldn't teach in a school, man. I was never one of your bright ones, you know yourself."
  • Stephen: "I have no place to sleep myself, Stephen informed him."
  • Corley: "Those are halfcrowns, man, Corley corrected him."
  • Corley: "Thanks, Corley answered, you're a gentleman. I'll pay you back one of these days."
  • Corley: "He is down on his luck. He asked me to ask you to ask somebody named Boylan, a billsticker, to give him a job as a sandwichman."
  • Stephen: "Everybody gets their own ration of luck, they say. Now you mention it his face is familiar to me."
  • Stephen: "Half a crown, Stephen responded. I daresay he needs it to sleep somewhere."
  • Bloom: "Needs! Mr Bloom ejaculated, professing not the least surprise at the intelligence. I can quite understand that, he said, and the more so because it so happens that I was without a penny this morning myself."
  • Stephen: "To seek misfortune, was Stephen's answer."
  • Bloom: "I met your respected father on a recent occasion, Mr Bloom diplomatically said. In fact, I was with him this morning at poor little Paddy Dignam's funeral."
  • Stephen: "I believe he is in Dublin somewhere, Stephen answered unconcernedly."
  • Bloom: "A gifted man, Mr Bloom said of Mr Dedalus senior, in more respects than one and a born raconteur if ever there was one."
  • Bloom: "No, Mr Bloom repeated again, I wouldn't personally repose much trust in that boon companion of yours who contributes the humorous element, Dr Mulligan, as a guide, philosopher, and friend, if I were in your shoes."
  • Stephen: "Except it simply amounts to one thing and he is what they call picking your brains, he ventured to throw out."
  • Bloom: "Now touching a cup of coffee, Mr Bloom ventured to plausibly suggest."
  • Bloom: "A beautiful language. I mean for singing purposes. Why do you not write your poetry in that language?"
  • Stephen: "To fill the ear of a cow elephant. They were haggling over money."
  • Bloom: "Is that so? Mr Bloom asked. Of course, he subjoined pensively, at the same time, you see, it's a question of temperament."
  • Stephen: "Sounds are impostures, Stephen said after a pause of some little time. Like names, Cicero, Podmore, Napoleon, Mr Goodbody, Jesus, Mr Doyle, Shakespeare, were they not all impostures?"
  • Bloom: "Yes, to be sure, Mr Bloom unaffectedly concurred. Of course. Our name was changed too, he added, pushing the socalled roll and butter and semicircular crumpet, to his guest."
  • Sailor: "And what might your name be?"
  • Stephen: "Dedalus."
  • Sailor: "You know Simon Dedalus? he asked at length."
  • Stephen: "I've heard of him, Stephen said."
  • Sailor: "He's Irish, the seaman bold affirmed, staring still in much the same direction and nodding. All Irish."
  • Stephen: "All too Irish, Stephen rejoined."
  • Sailor: "I seen him shoot two eggs off two bottles at fifty yards over his shoulder. Left hand."
  • Sailor: "Bottles out there, say. Fifty yards measured. Eggs on the bottles."
  • Sailor: "Pom! he then shouted once."
  • Sailor: "Pom! he shouted twice."
  • Sailor: "Beg pardon, the sailor said."
  • Bloom: "Long ago? Mr Bloom pursued without flinching a hairsbreadth."
  • Sailor: "Why, the sailor replied, relaxing to a certain extent under the magic influence of diamond cut diamond, it was a good while ago."
  • Bloom: "Curious coincidence, Mr Bloom confided to Stephen unobtrusively."
  • Sailor: "Murphy's my name, the sailor continued. D. B. Murphy of Carrigaloe."
  • Stephen: "Queenstown harbour, Stephen replied."
  • Sailor: "That's right, the sailor said. Fort Camden and Fort Carlisle. That's where I hails from."
  • Sailor: "You don't happen to have such a thing as a spare chaw about you?"
  • Sailor: "Thank you, the sailor said."
  • Sailor: "We come up this morning eleven o'clock. The threemaster Rosevean from Bridgwater with bricks."
  • Keeper: "You must have seen a fair share of the world, the keeper remarked, leaning on the counter."
  • Sailor: "Why, the sailor answered upon reflection upon it, I've circumnavigated a bit since I first joined on."
  • Jarvey: "You seen queer sights, don't be talking, put in a jarvey."
  • Sailor: "Why, the sailor said, shifting his partially chewed plug. I seen queer sights too, knocking around from one port to another."
  • Sailor: "Khaan! Like that. And I seen maneaters in Peru that eats corpses and the livers of horses."
  • Sailor: "Chews coca all day, the communicative tarpaulin added. Stomachs like a jellyfish."
  • Sailor: "Know how to keep them off? he inquired generally."
  • Sailor: "Glass. That boggles 'em. Glass."
  • Sailor: "I seen a Chinese one time, related the doughty narrator, that had little pills like putty and he put them in the water and they opened and every pill was something different."
  • Sailor: "And I seen a man killed in Trieste by an Italian chap. Knife in his back."
  • Sailor: "In a knockingshop it was count of a tryon between two smugglers."
  • Sailor: "That's a good bit of steel, repeated he, examining his formidable stiletto."
  • Sailor: "They're great for the cold steel, somebody who was evidently quite in the dark said eagerly."
  • Sailor: "Ay, boss, the sailor broke in. Give us back them papers."
  • Bloom: "Have you seen the rock of Gibraltar? Mr Bloom inquired."
  • Bloom: "Ah, you've touched there too, Mr Bloom said, Europa point, thinking he had, in the course of his wanderings."
  • Bloom: "What year would that be about? Mr B interrogated. Can you recall the boats?"
  • Sailor: "I'm tired of all them rocks in the sea, he said, and boats and ships."
  • Sailor: "There was a fellow sailed with me in the Rover, the old seadog, himself a rover, proceeded. Went ashore and took up a soft job as gentleman's valet at six quid a month."
  • Bloom: "What age is he? queried one hearer who, by the way, seen from the side."
  • Sailor: "Why, the sailor answered with a slow puzzled utterance, my son, Danny? He's about five."
  • Sailor: "There was lice in that bunk in Bridgwater, he remarked, sure as nuts."
  • Sailor: "Tattoo, the exhibitor explained. That was done when we were lying becalmed off Odessa in the Black Sea under Captain Dalton."
  • Bloom: "Did it hurt much doing it? one asked the sailor."
  • Sailor: "See here, he said, showing Antonio. There he is cursing the mate. And there he is now, he added, the same fellow, pulling the skin with his fingers, some special knack evidently, and he laughing at a yarn."
  • Sailor: "Ay, ay, sighed the sailor, looking down on his manly chest. He's gone too."
  • Loafer: "Neat bit of work, one longshoreman said."
  • Loafer: "And what's the number for? loafer number two queried."
  • Loafer: "Eaten alive? a third asked the sailor."
  • Sailor: "Ay, ay, sighed again the latter personage, more cheerily this time with some sort of a half smile for a brief duration only."
  • Sailor: "As bad as old Antonio, he added. For he left me on my ownio."
  • Keeper: "The gunboat, the keeper said."
  • Bloom: "It beats me, Mr Bloom confided to Stephen, medically I am speaking, how a wretched creature like that from the Lock hospital, reeking with disease, can be barefaced enough to solicit or how any man in his sober senses, if he values his health in the least."
  • Bloom: "In this country people sell much more than she ever had and do a roaring trade."
  • Bloom: "You as a good catholic, he observed, talking of body and soul, believe in the soul."
  • Stephen: "They tell me on the best authority it is a simple substance and therefore incorruptible."
  • Bloom: "Simple? I shouldn't think that is the proper word. Of course, I grant you, to concede a point, you do knock across a simple soul once in a blue moon."
  • Stephen: "O that, Stephen expostulated, has been proved conclusively by several of the best known passages in Holy Writ, apart from circumstantial evidence."
  • Bloom: "Has been? the more experienced of the two objected, sticking to his original point."
  • Stephen: "Couldn't, Stephen contrived to get out, his mental organs for the moment refusing to dictate further."
  • Bloom: "Have a shot at it now, he ventured to say of the coffee after being somewhat and still and all he was rather taken aback when Stephen, his tongue cleaving to his palate, answered in the negative."
  • Bloom: "Still it's solid food, his good genius urged, I'm a stickler for solid food, his one and only reason being not gormandising in the least but regular meals as the sine qua non for any kind of proper work."
  • Stephen: "Liquids I can eat, Stephen said. But O, oblige me by taking away that knife. I can't look at the point of it."
  • Bloom: "Our mutual friend's stories are like himself, Mr Bloom apropos of knives to a not to say particularly strained but nevertheless a not exactly if you understand me and a novice thought a bit more than necessary, he told Stephen."
  • Bloom: "Mind you, I'm not saying that it's all a pure invention, he resumed."
  • Bloom: "Spaniards, for instance, he continued, passionate temperaments like that, impetuous as Old Nick, are given to taking the law into their own hands."
  • Stephen: "The temperaments at the door, Stephen interposed with, were very passionate about ten shillings."
  • Bloom: "Quite so, Mr Bloom dittoed."
  • Stephen: "Then, Stephen said staring and rambling on to himself or some unknown listener somewhere, we have the impetuosity of Dante and the isosceles triangle, Miss Portinari, he fell in love with and Leonardo and san Tommaso Mastino."
  • Bloom: "It's in the blood, Mr Bloom acceded at once. All are washed in the blood of the sun."
  • Bloom: "Let me cross your bows mate, he said to his neighbour who was just putting a hand inside as if to feel the water."
  • Bloom: "Am I right, skipper? he queried of the sailor, now returning after his toilet and looking from left to right of the company."
  • Sailor: "The biscuits was as hard as brass, the sailor gruffly assented."
  • Bloom: "Take a bit of doing, boss, retaliated that rough diamond palpably a bit peeved in response to the foregoing truism."
  • Veteran: "Who's the best troops in the army? the grizzled old veteran irately interrogated."
  • Cabby: "The Irish, for choice, retorted the cabby like Campbell, facial blemishes apart."
  • Sailor: "That's right, the old tarpaulin corroborated. The Irish catholic peasant."
  • Bloom: "He took umbrage at something or other, that muchinjured but on the whole eventempered person declared, I let slip."
  • Stephen: "Ex quibus, Stephen mumbled in a noncommittal accent, their two or three minds, that is."
  • Bloom: "Of course, Mr B. proceeded to stipulate, you must look at both sides of the question."
  • Stephen: "Memorable bloody bridge battle and seven minutes' war, Stephen assented, between Skinner's alley and Ormond market."
  • Bloom: "You just took the words out of my mouth, he said. A hocuspocus of conflicting evidence that candidly you couldn't remotely..."
  • Stephen: "They accuse, remarked he audibly. He turned away from the others, who... and went over to the shuttered window."
  • Bloom: "Jews, he softly imparted in an aside in Stephen's ear, are accused of ruining."
  • Stephen: "Count me out, he managed to remark, meaning work."
  • Bloom: "I mean, of course, the other hastened to affirm, work in the widest possible sense."
  • Stephen: "You suspect, Stephen retorted with a sort of a half laugh, that I may be important because I belong to the faubourg Saint Patrice called Ireland for short."
  • Bloom: "I would go a step farther, Mr Bloom insinuated."
  • Stephen: "But I suspect, Stephen interrupted, that Ireland must be important because it belongs to me."
  • Bloom: "What belongs, queried Mr Bloom bending, fancying he was perhaps under some misapprehension. Excuse me. Unfortunately I didn't catch the latter portion."
  • Stephen: "We can't change the country. Let us change the subject."
  • Bloom: "This morning (Hynes put it in of course) the remains of the late Mr Patrick Dignam."
  • Stephen: "Is that first epistle to the Hebrews, he asked as soon as his bottom jaw would let him, in?"
  • Bloom: "It is. Really, Mr Bloom said (though first he fancied he alluded to the archbishop till he added about father and son being reconciled), on the point of closing it and, stowing it carefully in his side pocket."
  • Bloom: "There was every indication they would arrive at that, he, Bloom, said."
  • Stephen: "Who? the other, whose hand by the way was hurt, said."
  • Keeper: "That bitch, that English whore, did for him, the shebeen proprietor commented. She put the first nail in his coffin."
  • Henry: "Fine lump of a woman all the same, the soi-disant townclerk Henry Campbell remarked, and plenty of her."
  • Keeper: "Ay, Skin-the-Goat amusingly added, he was and a cottonball one."
  • Bloom: "Just bears out what I was saying, he, with glowing bosom said to Stephen."
  • Stephen: "The king of Spain's daughter, Stephen answered, adding something or other rather muddled about farewell and adieu to you Spanish onions."
  • Bloom: "Was she? Bloom ejaculated, surprised though not astonished by any means. I never heard that rumour before."
  • Bloom: "Do you consider, by the by, he said, thoughtfully selecting a faded photo which he laid on the table, that a Spanish type?"
  • Bloom: "Mrs Bloom, my wife the prima donna Madam Marion Tweedy, Bloom pointed out."
  • Bloom: "At what o'clock did you dine? he questioned of the slim form and tired though unwrinkled face."
  • Stephen: "Some time yesterday, Stephen said."
  • Bloom: "Yesterday! exclaimed Bloom till he remembered it was already tomorrow, Friday."
  • Stephen: "The day before yesterday, Stephen said, improving on himself."
  • Bloom: "I propose, our hero eventually suggested after mature reflection while prudently pocketing her photo, it would be far better to leave him here where he can rest in peace until the morning."
  • Stephen: "Yes, that's the best, he assured Stephen to whom for the matter of that Brazen Head or him or anywhere."
  • Sailor: "Give us a squint at that literature, grandfather, the ancient mariner pressed, referring to the newspaper."
  • Keeper: "And welcome, answered the elderly party thus addressed."
  • Keeper: "Are you bad in the eyes? the sympathetic personage like the townclerk Henry Campbell inquired."
  • Sailor: "Why, answered the seafarer with the tartan beard, who seemingly was a bit of a literary cove in his own small way, staring out of seagreen eyes, not to put too fine a point on it, I don't see."
  • Bloom: "Come, he counselled to close the séance."
  • Stephen: "One thing I never understood, he said to be original on the spur of the moment. They used to give treacle and sulphur to the children, one time I was young."
  • Bloom: "To sweep the floor in the morning."
  • Bloom: "It will (the air) do you good, Bloom said, meaning also the walk, in a moment."
  • Stephen: "Yes, Stephen said uncertainly because he thought he felt a strange kind of flesh of a different man approach him, sinewless and wobbly and all that."
  • Stephen: "Our lives are in peril tonight. Beware of the steamroller."
  • Bloom: "What's this I was saying? Ah, yes! My wife, he intimated, plunging in medias res, would have the greatest of pleasure in making your acquaintance as she's passionately attached to music of any kind."

Chapter 17 - Ithaca

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Setting: Bloom's house at 7 Eccles Street, where he brings Stephen for cocoa.

Dialogue:

  • Question: "What parallel courses did Bloom and Stephen follow returning?"
  • Answer: "Starting united both at normal walking pace from Beresford place..."
  • Question: "What rendered problematic for Bloom the realisation of these mutually selfexcluding propositions?"
  • Answer: "The irreparability of the past: once at a performance of Albert Hengler's circus..."

Chapter 18 - Penelope

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Setting: Molly Bloom's bed, as she lies awake with her thoughts.

Dialogue:

(No traditional dialogue found in this chapter - written as Molly Bloom's uninterrupted stream-of-consciousness monologue.)

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