ULYSSES

(writes on the wall) Bloom is a cod.

CRAB

(in bushranger’s kit) What did you do in the cattlecreep behind Kilbarrack?

A FEMALE INFANT

(shakes a rattle) And under Ballybough bridge?

A HOLLYBUSH

And in the devil’s glen?

BLOOM

(blushes furiously all over from frons to nates, three tears falling from his left eye) Spare my past.

THE IRISH EVICTED TENANTS

(in bodycoats, kneebreeches, with Donnybrook fair shillelaghs) Sjambok him!

(Bloom with asses’ ears seats himself in the pillory with crossed arms, his feet protruding. He whistles Don Giovanni, a cenar teco. Artane orphans, joining hands, caper round him. Girls of the Prison Gate Mission, joining hands, caper round in the opposite direction.)

THE ARTANE ORPHANS

You hig, you hog, you dirty dog!

You think the ladies love you!

THE PRISON GATE GIRLS

If you see Kay

Tell him he may

See you in tea

Tell him from me.

HORNBLOWER

(in ephod and huntingcap, announces) And he shall carry the sins of the people to Azazel, the spirit which is in the wilderness, and to Lilith, the nighthag. And they shall stone him and defile him, yea, all from Agendath Netaim and from Mizraim, the land of Ham.

(All the people cast soft pantomime stones at Bloom. Many bonafide travellers and ownerless dogs come near him and defile him. Mastiansky and Citron approach in gaberdines, wearing long earlocks. They wag their beards at Bloom.)

MASTIANSKY AND CITRON

Belial! Laemlein of Istria, the false Messiah! Abulafia! Recant!

(George R Mesias, Bloom’s tailor, appears, a tailor’s goose under his arm, presenting a bill.)

MESIAS

To alteration one pair trousers eleven shillings.

BLOOM

(rubs his hands cheerfully) Just like old times. Poor Bloom!

(Reuben J Dodd, blackbearded Iscariot, bad shepherd, bearing on his shoulders the drowned corpse of his son, approaches the pillory.)

REUBEN J

(whispers hoarsely) The squeak is out. A split is gone for the flatties. Nip the first rattler.

THE FIRE BRIGADE

Pflaap!

BROTHER BUZZ

(Invests Bloom in a yellow habit with embroidery of painted flames and high pointed hat. He places a bag of gunpowder round his neck and hands him over to the civil power, saying) Forgive him his trespasses.

(Lieutenant Myers of the Dublin Fire Brigade by general request sets fire to Bloom. Lamentations.)

THE CITIZEN

Thank heaven!

BLOOM

(in a seamless garment marked I. H. S. stands upright amid phoenix flames) Weep not for me, O daughters of Erin. (he exhibits to Dublin reporters traces of burning)

(The daughters of Erin, in black garments, with large prayerbooks and long lighted candles in their hands, kneel down and pray.)

THE DAUGHTERS OF ERIN

Kidney of Bloom, pray for us

Flower of the Bath, pray for us

Mentor of Menton, pray for us

Canvasser for the Freeman, pray for us

Charitable Mason, pray for us

Wandering Soap, pray for us

Sweets of Sin, pray for us

Music without Words, pray for us

Reprover of the Citizen, pray for us

Friend of all Frillies, pray for us

Midwife Most Merciful, pray for us

Potato Preservative against Plague and Pestilence, pray for us.

(A choir of six hundred voices, conducted by Vincent O’Brien, sings the chorus from Handel’s Messiah Alleluia for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth, accompanied on the organ by Joseph Glynn. Bloom becomes mute, shrunken, carbonised.)

ZOE

Talk away till you’re black in the face.

BLOOM

(in caubeen with clay pipe stuck in the band, dusty brogues, an emigrant’s red handkerchief bundle in his hand, leading a black bogoak pig by a sugaun, with a smile in his eye) Let me be going now, woman of the house, for by all the goats in Connemara I’m after having the father and mother of a bating. (with a tear in his eye) All insanity. Patriotism, sorrow for the dead, music, future of the race. To be or not to be. Life’s dream is o’er. End it peacefully. They can live on. (he gazes far away mournfully) I am ruined. A few pastilles of aconite. The blinds drawn. A letter. Then lie back to rest. (he breathes softly) No more. I have lived. Fare. Farewell.

ZOE

(stiffly, her finger in her neckfillet) Honest? Till the next time. (she sneers) Suppose you got up the wrong side of the bed or came too quick with your best girl. O, I can read your thoughts!

BLOOM

(bitterly) Man and woman, love, what is it? A cork and bottle. I’m sick of it. Let everything rip.

ZOE