Ulysses

half sovereign into the top of her stocking. Hard earned on the flat of my back. Lynch Lifting Kitty from the table. Come! Kitty Wait. She clutches the two crowns. Florry And me? Lynch Hoopla! He lifts her, carries her and bumps her down on the sofa. Stephen

The fox crew, the cocks flew,
The bells in heaven
Were striking eleven.
’Tis time for her poor soul
To get out of heaven.

Bloom Quietly lays a half sovereign on the table between Bella and Florry. So. Allow me. He takes up the pound note. Three times ten. We’re square. Bella Admiringly. You’re such a slyboots, old cocky. I could kiss you. Zoe Points. Hum? Deep as a drawwell. Lynch bends Kitty back over the sofa and kisses her. Bloom goes with the poundnote to Stephen. Bloom This is yours. Stephen How is that? Le distrait or absentminded beggar. He fumbles again in his pocket and draws out a handful of coins. An object falls. That fell. Bloom Stooping, picks up and hands a box of matches. This. Stephen Lucifer. Thanks. Bloom Quietly. You had better hand over that cash to me to take care of. Why pay more? Stephen Hands him all his coins. Be just before you are generous. Bloom I will but is it wise? He counts. One, seven, eleven, and five. Six. Eleven. I don’t answer for what you may have lost. Stephen Why striking eleven? Proparoxyton. Moment before the next Lessing says. Thirsty fox. He laughs loudly. Burying his grandmother. Probably he killed her. Bloom That is one pound six and eleven. One pound seven, say. Stephen Doesn’t matter a rambling damn. Bloom No, but⁠ ⁠… Stephen Comes to the table. Cigarette, please. Lynch tosses a cigarette from the sofa to the table. And so Georgina Johnson is dead and married. A cigarette appears on the table. Stephen looks at it. Wonder. Parlour magic. Married. Hm. He strikes a match and proceeds to light the cigarette with enigmatic melancholy. Lynch Watching him. You would have a better chance of lighting it if you held the match nearer. Stephen Brings the match nearer his eye. Lynx eye. Must get glasses. Broke them yesterday. Sixteen years ago. Distance. The eye sees all flat. He draws the match away. It goes out. Brain thinks. Near: far. Ineluctable modality of the visible. He frowns mysteriously. Hm. Sphinx. The beast that has two backs at midnight. Married. Zoe It was a commercial traveller married her and took her away with him. Florry Nods. Mr Lambe from London. Stephen Lamb of London, who takest away the sins of our world. Lynch Embracing Kitty on the sofa, chants deeply. Dona nobis pacem. The cigarette slips from Stephen’s fingers. Bloom picks it up and throws it into the grate. Bloom Don’t smoke. You ought to eat. Cursed dog I met. To Zoe. You have nothing? Zoe Is he hungry? Stephen

Extends his hand to her smiling and chants to the air of the bloodoath in the Dusk of the Gods.

Hangende Hunger,
Fragende Frau,
Macht uns alle kaput.

Zoe Tragically. Hamlet, I am thy father’s gimlet! She takes his hand. Blue eyes beauty I’ll read your hand. She points to his forehead. No wit, no wrinkles. She counts. Two, three, Mars, that’s courage. Stephen shakes his head. No kid. Lynch Sheet lightning courage. The youth who could not shiver and shake. To Zoe. Who taught you palmistry? Zoe Turns. Ask my ballocks that I haven’t got. To Stephen. I see it in your face. The eye, like that. She frowns with lowered head. Lynch Laughing, slaps Kitty behind twice. Like that. Pandy bat. Twice loudly a pandybat cracks, the coffin of the pianola flies open, the bald little round jack-in-the-box head of Father Dolan springs up. Father Dolan Any boy want flogging? Broke his glasses? Lazy idle little schemer. See it in your eye. Mild, benign, rectorial, reproving, the head of Don John Conmee rises from the pianola coffin. Don John Conmee Now, Father Dolan! Now. I’m sure that Stephen is a very good little boy. Zoe Examining Stephen’s palm. Woman’s hand. Stephen Murmurs. Continue. Lie. Hold me. Caress. I never could read His handwriting except His criminal thumbprint on the haddock. Zoe What day were you born? Stephen Thursday. Today. Zoe Thursday’s child has far to go. She traces lines on his hand. Line of fate. Influential friends. Florry Pointing. Imagination. Zoe Mount of the moon. You’ll meet with a⁠ ⁠… She peers at his hands abruptly. I won’t tell you what’s not good for you. Or do you want to know? Bloom Detaches her fingers and offers his palm. More harm than good. Here. Read mine. Bella Show. She turns up Bloom’s hand. I thought so. Knobby knuckles, for the women. Zoe Peering at Bloom’s palm. Gridiron. Travels beyond the sea and marry money. Bloom Wrong. Zoe Quickly. O, I see. Short little finger. Henpecked husband. That wrong? Black Liz, a huge rooster hatching in a chalked circle, rises, stretches her wings and clucks. Black Liz Gara. Klook. Klook. Klook. She sidles from her newlaid egg and waddles off. Bloom Points to his hand. That weal there is an accident. Fell and cut it twenty two years age. I was sixteen. Zoe I see, says the blind man. Tell us news. Stephen See? Moves to one great goal. I am twentytwo too. Sixteen years ago I twentytwo tumbled, twentytwo years ago he sixteen fell off his hobbyhorse. He winces. Hurt my hand somewhere. Must see a dentist. Money? Zoe whispers to Florry. They giggle. Bloom releases his hand and writes idly on the table in backhand, pencilling slow curves. Florry What? A hackneycar, number three hundred and twentyfour, with a gallant buttocked mare, driven by James Barton, Harmony Avenue, Donnybrook, trots past. Blazes Boylan and Lenehan sprawl swaying on the sideseats.