Ulysses :: Concordance

Ulysses by James Joyce Scylla and Charybdis
Telemachus Nestor Proteus Calypso Lotus-Eaters Hades Aeolus Lestrygonians Scylla and Charybdis Wandering Rocks Sirens Cyclops Nausicaa Oxen of the Sun Circe Eumeus Ithaca Penelope This is a hypertextual, self-referential edition of Ulysses by James Joyce. The text was prepared using the Project Gutenberg edition. Click on any word to see its occurrences in the text; click on line numbers to go to that line; click on chapter names to go to that chapter; or search using the form below. Search terms can contain spaces and punctuation. The concordance for Ulysses ordered alphanumerically, and listed in order of word frequency. Click here for more texts.
[8737] [8738] [8739] Urbane, to comfort them, the quaker librarian purred: [8740] [8741] --And we have, have we not, those priceless pages of WILHELM MEISTER. A [8742] great poet on a great brother poet. A hesitating soul taking arms against [8743] a sea of troubles, torn by conflicting doubts, as one sees in real life. [8744] [8745] He came a step a sinkapace forward on neatsleather creaking and a step [8746] backward a sinkapace on the solemn floor. [8747] [8748] A noiseless attendant setting open the door but slightly made him a [8749] noiseless beck. [8750] [8751] --Directly, said he, creaking to go, albeit lingering. The beautiful [8752] ineffectual dreamer who comes to grief against hard facts. One always [8753] feels that Goethe's judgments are so true. True in the larger analysis. [8754] [8755] Twicreakingly analysis he corantoed off. Bald, most zealous by the door [8756] he gave his large ear all to the attendant's words: heard them: and was [8757] gone. [8758] [8759] Two left. [8760] [8761] --Monsieur de la Palice, Stephen sneered, was alive fifteen minutes [8762] before his death. [8763] [8764] --Have you found those six brave medicals, John Eglinton asked with [8765] elder's gall, to write PARADISE LOST at your dictation? THE SORROWS OF [8766] SATAN he calls it. [8767] [8768] Smile. Smile Cranly's smile. [8769] [8770] [8771] FIRST HE TICKLED HER [8772] THEN HE PATTED HER [8773] THEN HE PASSED THE FEMALE CATHETER. [8774] FOR HE WAS A MEDICAL [8775] JOLLY OLD MEDI ... [8776] [8777] [8778] --I feel you would need one more for HAMLET. Seven is dear to the mystic [8779] mind. The shining seven W.B. calls them. [8780] [8781] Glittereyed his rufous skull close to his greencapped desklamp sought the [8782] face bearded amid darkgreener shadow, an ollav, holyeyed. He laughed low: [8783] a sizar's laugh of Trinity: unanswered. [8784] [8785] [8786] ORCHESTRAL SATAN, WEEPING MANY A ROOD [8787] TEARS SUCH AS ANGELS WEEP. [8788] ED EGLI AVEA DEL CUL FATTO TROMBETTA. [8789] [8790] [8791] He holds my follies hostage. [8792] [8793] Cranly's eleven true Wicklowmen to free their sireland. Gaptoothed [8794] Kathleen, her four beautiful green fields, the stranger in her house. And [8795] one more to hail him: AVE, RABBI: the Tinahely twelve. In the shadow of [8796] the glen he cooees for them. My soul's youth I gave him, night by night. [8797] God speed. Good hunting. [8798] [8799] Mulligan has my telegram. [8800] [8801] Folly. Persist. [8802] [8803] --Our young Irish bards, John Eglinton censured, have yet to create a [8804] figure which the world will set beside Saxon Shakespeare's Hamlet though [8805] I admire him, as old Ben did, on this side idolatry. [8806] [8807] --All these questions are purely academic, Russell oracled out of his [8808] shadow. I mean, whether Hamlet is Shakespeare or James I or Essex. [8809] Clergymen's discussions of the historicity of Jesus. Art has to reveal to [8810] us ideas, formless spiritual essences. The supreme question about a work [8811] of art is out of how deep a life does it spring. The painting of Gustave [8812] Moreau is the painting of ideas. The deepest poetry of Shelley, the words [8813] of Hamlet bring our minds into contact with the eternal wisdom, Plato's [8814] world of ideas. All the rest is the speculation of schoolboys for [8815] schoolboys. [8816] [8817] A. E. has been telling some yankee interviewer. Wall, tarnation strike [8818] me! [8819] [8820] --The schoolmen were schoolboys first, Stephen said superpolitely. [8821] Aristotle was once Plato's schoolboy. [8822] [8823] --And has remained so, one should hope, John Eglinton sedately said. One [8824] can see him, a model schoolboy with his diploma under his arm. [8825] [8826] He laughed again at the now smiling bearded face. [8827] [8828] Formless spiritual. Father, Word and Holy Breath. Allfather, the heavenly [8829] man. Hiesos Kristos, magician of the beautiful, the Logos who suffers in [8830] us at every moment. This verily is that. I am the fire upon the altar. I [8831] am the sacrificial butter. [8832] [8833] Dunlop, Judge, the noblest Roman of them all, A.E., Arval, the Name [8834] Ineffable, in heaven hight: K.H., their master, whose identity is no [8835] secret to adepts. Brothers of the great white lodge always watching to [8836] see if they can help. The Christ with the bridesister, moisture of light, [8837] born of an ensouled virgin, repentant sophia, departed to the plane of [8838] buddhi. The life esoteric is not for ordinary person. O.P. must work off [8839] bad karma first. Mrs Cooper Oakley once glimpsed our very illustrious [8840] sister H.P.B.'s elemental. [8841] [8842] O, fie! Out on't! PFUITEUFEL! You naughtn't to look, missus, so you [8843] naughtn't when a lady's ashowing of her elemental. [8844] [8845] Mr Best entered, tall, young, mild, light. He bore in his hand with grace [8846] a notebook, new, large, clean, bright. [8847] [8848] --That model schoolboy, Stephen said, would find Hamlet's musings about [8849] the afterlife of his princely soul, the improbable, insignificant and [8850] undramatic monologue, as shallow as Plato's. [8851] [8852] John Eglinton, frowning, said, waxing wroth: [8853] [8854] --Upon my word it makes my blood boil to hear anyone compare Aristotle [8855] with Plato. [8856] [8857] --Which of the two, Stephen asked, would have banished me from his [8858] commonwealth? [8859] [8860] Unsheathe your dagger definitions. Horseness is the whatness of allhorse. [8861] Streams of tendency and eons they worship. God: noise in the street: very [8862] peripatetic. Space: what you damn well have to see. Through spaces [8863] smaller than red globules of man's blood they creepycrawl after Blake's [8864] buttocks into eternity of which this vegetable world is but a shadow. [8865] Hold to the now, the here, through which all future plunges to the past. [8866] [8867] Mr Best came forward, amiable, towards his colleague. [8868] [8869] --Haines is gone, he said. [8870] [8871] --Is he? [8872] [8873] --I was showing him Jubainville's book. He's quite enthusiastic, don't [8874] you know, about Hyde's LOVESONGS OF CONNACHT. I couldn't bring him in to [8875] hear the discussion. He's gone to Gill's to buy it. [8876] [8877] [8878] BOUND THEE FORTH, MY BOOKLET, QUICK [8879] TO GREET THE CALLOUS PUBLIC. [8880] WRIT, I WEEN, 'TWAS NOT MY WISH [8881] IN LEAN UNLOVELY ENGLISH. [8882] [8883] [8884] --The peatsmoke is going to his head, John Eglinton opined. [8885] [8886] We feel in England. Penitent thief. Gone. I smoked his baccy. Green [8887] twinkling stone. An emerald set in the ring of the sea. [8888] [8889] --People do not know how dangerous lovesongs can be, the auric egg of [8890] Russell warned occultly. The movements which work revolutions in the [8891] world are born out of the dreams and visions in a peasant's heart on the [8892] hillside. For them the earth is not an exploitable ground but the living [8893] mother. The rarefied air of the academy and the arena produce the [8894] sixshilling novel, the musichall song. France produces the finest flower [8895] of corruption in Mallarme but the desirable life is revealed only to the [8896] poor of heart, the life of Homer's Phaeacians. [8897] [8898] From these words Mr Best turned an unoffending face to Stephen. [8899] [8900] --Mallarme, don't you know, he said, has written those wonderful prose [8901] poems Stephen MacKenna used to read to me in Paris. The one about HAMLET. [8902] He says: IL SE PROMENE, LISANT AU LIVRE DE LUI-MEME, don't you know, [8903] READING THE BOOK OF HIMSELF. He describes HAMLET given in a French town, [8904] don't you know, a provincial town. They advertised it. [8905] [8906] His free hand graciously wrote tiny signs in air. [8907] [8908] [8909] HAMLET [8910] OU [8911] LE DISTRAIT [8912] PIECE DE SHAKESPEARE [8913] [8914] [8915] He repeated to John Eglinton's newgathered frown: [8916] [8917] --PIECE DE SHAKESPEARE, don't you know. It's so French. The French point [8918] of view. HAMLET OU ... [8919] [8920] --The absentminded beggar, Stephen ended. [8921] [8922] John Eglinton laughed. [8923] [8924] --Yes, I suppose it would be, he said. Excellent people, no doubt, but [8925] distressingly shortsighted in some matters. [8926] [8927] Sumptuous and stagnant exaggeration of murder. [8928] [8929] --A deathsman of the soul Robert Greene called him, Stephen said. Not for [8930] nothing was he a butcher's son, wielding the sledded poleaxe and spitting [8931] in his palms. Nine lives are taken off for his father's one. Our Father [8932] who art in purgatory. Khaki Hamlets don't hesitate to shoot. The [8933] bloodboltered shambles in act five is a forecast of the concentration [8934] camp sung by Mr Swinburne. [8935] [8936] Cranly, I his mute orderly, following battles from afar. [8937] [8938] WHELPS AND DAMS OF MURDEROUS FOES WHOM NONE [8939] BUT WE HAD SPARED ... [8940] [8941] [8942] Between the Saxon smile and yankee yawp. The devil and the deep sea. [8943] [8944] --He will have it that HAMLET is a ghoststory, John Eglinton said for Mr [8945] Best's behoof. Like the fat boy in Pickwick he wants to make our flesh [8946] creep. [8947] [8948] [8949] LIST! LIST! O LIST! [8950] [8951] [8952] My flesh hears him: creeping, hears. [8953] [8954] [8955] IF THOU DIDST EVER ... [8956] [8957] [8958] --What is a ghost? Stephen said with tingling energy. One who has faded [8959] into impalpability through death, through absence, through change of [8960] manners. Elizabethan London lay as far from Stratford as corrupt Paris [8961] lies from virgin Dublin. Who is the ghost from LIMBO PATRUM, returning to [8962] the world that has forgotten him? Who is King Hamlet? [8963] [8964] John Eglinton shifted his spare body, leaning back to judge. [8965] [8966] Lifted. [8967] [8968] --It is this hour of a day in mid June, Stephen said, begging with a [8969] swift glance their hearing. The flag is up on the playhouse by the [8970] bankside. The bear Sackerson growls in the pit near it, Paris garden. [8971] Canvasclimbers who sailed with Drake chew their sausages among the [8972] groundlings. [8973] [8974] Local colour. Work in all you know. Make them accomplices. [8975] [8976] --Shakespeare has left the huguenot's house in Silver street and walks by [8977] the swanmews along the riverbank. But he does not stay to feed the pen [8978] chivying her game of cygnets towards the rushes. The swan of Avon has [8979] other thoughts. [8980] [8981] Composition of place. Ignatius Loyola, make haste to help me! [8982] [8983] --The play begins. A player comes on under the shadow, made up in the [8984] castoff mail of a court buck, a wellset man with a bass voice. It is the [8985] ghost, the king, a king and no king, and the player is Shakespeare who [8986] has studied HAMLET all the years of his life which were not vanity in [8987] order to play the part of the spectre. He speaks the words to Burbage, [8988] the young player who stands before him beyond the rack of cerecloth, [8989] calling him by a name: [8990] [8991] HAMLET, I AM THY FATHER'S SPIRIT, [8992] [8993] bidding him list. To a son he speaks, the son of his soul, the prince, [8994] young Hamlet and to the son of his body, Hamnet Shakespeare, who has died [8995] in Stratford that his namesake may live for ever. [8996] [8997] Is it possible that that player Shakespeare, a ghost by absence, and in [8998] the vesture of buried Denmark, a ghost by death, speaking his own words [8999] to his own son's name (had Hamnet Shakespeare lived he would have been [9000] prince Hamlet's twin), is it possible, I want to know, or probable that [9001] he did not draw or foresee the logical conclusion of those premises: you [9002] are the dispossessed son: I am the murdered father: your mother is the [9003] guilty queen, Ann Shakespeare, born Hathaway? [9004] [9005] --But this prying into the family life of a great man, Russell began [9006] impatiently. [9007] [9008] Art thou there, truepenny? [9009] [9010] --Interesting only to the parish clerk. I mean, we have the plays. I mean [9011] when we read the poetry of KING LEAR what is it to us how the poet lived? [9012] As for living our servants can do that for us, Villiers de l'Isle has [9013] said. Peeping and prying into greenroom gossip of the day, the poet's [9014] drinking, the poet's debts. We have KING LEAR: and it is immortal. [9015] [9016] Mr Best's face, appealed to, agreed. [9017] [9018] [9019] FLOW OVER THEM WITH YOUR WAVES AND WITH YOUR WATERS, MANANAAN, [9020] MANANAAN MACLIR ... [9021] [9022] [9023] How now, sirrah, that pound he lent you when you were hungry? [9024] [9025] Marry, I wanted it. [9026] [9027] Take thou this noble. [9028] [9029] Go to! You spent most of it in Georgina Johnson's bed, clergyman's [9030] daughter. Agenbite of inwit. [9031] [9032] Do you intend to pay it back? [9033] [9034] O, yes. [9035] [9036] When? Now? [9037] [9038] Well ... No. [9039] [9040] When, then? [9041] [9042] I paid my way. I paid my way. [9043] [9044] Steady on. He's from beyant Boyne water. The northeast corner. You owe [9045] it. [9046] [9047] Wait. Five months. Molecules all change. I am other I now. Other I got [9048] pound. [9049] [9050] Buzz. Buzz. [9051] [9052] But I, entelechy, form of forms, am I by memory because under [9053] everchanging forms. [9054] [9055] I that sinned and prayed and fasted. [9056] [9057] A child Conmee saved from pandies. [9058] [9059] I, I and I. I. [9060] [9061] A.E.I.O.U. [9062] [9063] --Do you mean to fly in the face of the tradition of three centuries? [9064] John Eglinton's carping voice asked. Her ghost at least has been laid for [9065] ever. She died, for literature at least, before she was born. [9066] [9067] --She died, Stephen retorted, sixtyseven years after she was born. She [9068] saw him into and out of the world. She took his first embraces. She bore [9069] his children and she laid pennies on his eyes to keep his eyelids closed [9070] when he lay on his deathbed. [9071] [9072] Mother's deathbed. Candle. The sheeted mirror. Who brought me into this [9073] world lies there, bronzelidded, under few cheap flowers. LILIATA [9074] RUTILANTIUM. [9075] [9076] I wept alone. [9077] [9078] John Eglinton looked in the tangled glowworm of his lamp. [9079] [9080] --The world believes that Shakespeare made a mistake, he said, and got [9081] out of it as quickly and as best he could. [9082] [9083] --Bosh! Stephen said rudely. A man of genius makes no mistakes. His [9084] errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery. [9085] [9086] Portals of discovery opened to let in the quaker librarian, [9087] softcreakfooted, bald, eared and assiduous. [9088] [9089] --A shrew, John Eglinton said shrewdly, is not a useful portal of [9090] discovery, one should imagine. What useful discovery did Socrates learn [9091] from Xanthippe? [9092] [9093] --Dialectic, Stephen answered: and from his mother how to bring thoughts [9094] into the world. What he learnt from his other wife Myrto (ABSIT NOMEN!), [9095] Socratididion's Epipsychidion, no man, not a woman, will ever know. But [9096] neither the midwife's lore nor the caudlelectures saved him from the [9097] archons of Sinn Fein and their naggin of hemlock. [9098] [9099] --But Ann Hathaway? Mr Best's quiet voice said forgetfully. Yes, we seem [9100] to be forgetting her as Shakespeare himself forgot her. [9101] [9102] His look went from brooder's beard to carper's skull, to remind, to chide [9103] them not unkindly, then to the baldpink lollard costard, guiltless though [9104] maligned. [9105] [9106] --He had a good groatsworth of wit, Stephen said, and no truant memory. [9107] He carried a memory in his wallet as he trudged to Romeville whistling [9108] THE GIRL I LEFT BEHIND ME. If the earthquake did not time it we should [9109] know where to place poor Wat, sitting in his form, the cry of hounds, the [9110] studded bridle and her blue windows. That memory, VENUS AND ADONIS, lay [9111] in the bedchamber of every light-of-love in London. Is Katharine the [9112] shrew illfavoured? Hortensio calls her young and beautiful. Do you think [9113] the writer of ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA, a passionate pilgrim, had his eyes in [9114] the back of his head that he chose the ugliest doxy in all Warwickshire [9115] to lie withal? Good: he left her and gained the world of men. But his [9116] boywomen are the women of a boy. Their life, thought, speech are lent [9117] them by males. He chose badly? He was chosen, it seems to me. If others [9118] have their will Ann hath a way. By cock, she was to blame. She put the [9119] comether on him, sweet and twentysix. The greyeyed goddess who bends over [9120] the boy Adonis, stooping to conquer, as prologue to the swelling act, is [9121] a boldfaced Stratford wench who tumbles in a cornfield a lover younger [9122] than herself. [9123] [9124] And my turn? When? [9125] [9126] Come! [9127] [9128] --Ryefield, Mr Best said brightly, gladly, raising his new book, gladly, [9129] brightly. [9130] [9131] He murmured then with blond delight for all: [9132] [9133] [9134] BETWEEN THE ACRES OF THE RYE [9135] THESE PRETTY COUNTRYFOLK WOULD LIE. [9136] [9137] [9138] Paris: the wellpleased pleaser. [9139] [9140] A tall figure in bearded homespun rose from shadow and unveiled its [9141] cooperative watch. [9142] [9143] --I am afraid I am due at the HOMESTEAD. [9144] [9145] Whither away? Exploitable ground. [9146] [9147] --Are you going? John Eglinton's active eyebrows asked. Shall we see you [9148] at Moore's tonight? Piper is coming. [9149] [9150] --Piper! Mr Best piped. Is Piper back? [9151] [9152] Peter Piper pecked a peck of pick of peck of pickled pepper. [9153] [9154] --I don't know if I can. Thursday. We have our meeting. If I can get away [9155] in time. [9156] [9157] Yogibogeybox in Dawson chambers. ISIS UNVEILED. Their Pali book we tried [9158] to pawn. Crosslegged under an umbrel umbershoot he thrones an Aztec [9159] logos, functioning on astral levels, their oversoul, mahamahatma. The [9160] faithful hermetists await the light, ripe for chelaship, ringroundabout [9161] him. Louis H. Victory. T. Caulfield Irwin. Lotus ladies tend them i'the [9162] eyes, their pineal glands aglow. Filled with his god, he thrones, Buddh [9163] under plantain. Gulfer of souls, engulfer. Hesouls, shesouls, shoals of [9164] souls. Engulfed with wailing creecries, whirled, whirling, they bewail. [9165] [9166] [9167] IN QUINTESSENTIAL TRIVIALITY [9168] FOR YEARS IN THIS FLESHCASE A SHESOUL DWELT. [9169] [9170] [9171] --They say we are to have a literary surprise, the quaker librarian said, [9172] friendly and earnest. Mr Russell, rumour has it, is gathering together a [9173] sheaf of our younger poets' verses. We are all looking forward anxiously. [9174] [9175] Anxiously he glanced in the cone of lamplight where three faces, lighted, [9176] shone. [9177] [9178] See this. Remember. [9179] [9180] Stephen looked down on a wide headless caubeen, hung on his [9181] ashplanthandle over his knee. My casque and sword. Touch lightly with two [9182] index fingers. Aristotle's experiment. One or two? Necessity is that in [9183] virtue of which it is impossible that one can be otherwise. Argal, one [9184] hat is one hat. [9185] [9186] Listen. [9187] [9188] Young Colum and Starkey. George Roberts is doing the commercial part. [9189] Longworth will give it a good puff in the EXPRESS. O, will he? I liked [9190] Colum's DROVER. Yes, I think he has that queer thing genius. Do you think [9191] he has genius really? Yeats admired his line: AS IN WILD EARTH A GRECIAN [9192] VASE. Did he? I hope you'll be able to come tonight. Malachi Mulligan is [9193] coming too. Moore asked him to bring Haines. Did you hear Miss Mitchell's [9194] joke about Moore and Martyn? That Moore is Martyn's wild oats? Awfully [9195] clever, isn't it? They remind one of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. Our [9196] national epic has yet to be written, Dr Sigerson says. Moore is the man [9197] for it. A knight of the rueful countenance here in Dublin. With a saffron [9198] kilt? O'Neill Russell? O, yes, he must speak the grand old tongue. And [9199] his Dulcinea? James Stephens is doing some clever sketches. We are [9200] becoming important, it seems. [9201] [9202] Cordelia. CORDOGLIO. Lir's loneliest daughter. [9203] [9204] Nookshotten. Now your best French polish. [9205] [9206] --Thank you very much, Mr Russell, Stephen said, rising. If you will be [9207] so kind as to give the letter to Mr Norman ... [9208] [9209] --O, yes. If he considers it important it will go in. We have so much [9210] correspondence. [9211] [9212] --I understand, Stephen said. Thanks. [9213] [9214] God ild you. The pigs' paper. Bullockbefriending. [9215] [9216] Synge has promised me an article for DANA too. Are we going to be read? I [9217] feel we are. The Gaelic league wants something in Irish. I hope you will [9218] come round tonight. Bring Starkey. [9219] [9220] Stephen sat down. [9221] [9222] The quaker librarian came from the leavetakers. Blushing, his mask said: [9223] [9224] --Mr Dedalus, your views are most illuminating. [9225] [9226] He creaked to and fro, tiptoing up nearer heaven by the altitude of a [9227] chopine, and, covered by the noise of outgoing, said low: [9228] [9229] --Is it your view, then, that she was not faithful to the poet? [9230] [9231] Alarmed face asks me. Why did he come? Courtesy or an inward light? [9232] [9233] --Where there is a reconciliation, Stephen said, there must have been [9234] first a sundering. [9235] [9236] --Yes. [9237] [9238] Christfox in leather trews, hiding, a runaway in blighted treeforks, from [9239] hue and cry. Knowing no vixen, walking lonely in the chase. Women he won [9240] to him, tender people, a whore of Babylon, ladies of justices, bully [9241] tapsters' wives. Fox and geese. And in New Place a slack dishonoured body [9242] that once was comely, once as sweet, as fresh as cinnamon, now her leaves [9243] falling, all, bare, frighted of the narrow grave and unforgiven. [9244] [9245] --Yes. So you think ... [9246] [9247] The door closed behind the outgoer. [9248] [9249] Rest suddenly possessed the discreet vaulted cell, rest of warm and [9250] brooding air. [9251] [9252] A vestal's lamp. [9253] [9254] Here he ponders things that were not: what Caesar would have lived to do [9255] had he believed the soothsayer: what might have been: possibilities of [9256] the possible as possible: things not known: what name Achilles bore when [9257] he lived among women. [9258] [9259] Coffined thoughts around me, in mummycases, embalmed in spice of words. [9260] Thoth, god of libraries, a birdgod, moonycrowned. And I heard the voice [9261] of that Egyptian highpriest. IN PAINTED CHAMBERS LOADED WITH TILEBOOKS. [9262] [9263] They are still. Once quick in the brains of men. Still: but an itch of [9264] death is in them, to tell me in my ear a maudlin tale, urge me to wreak [9265] their will. [9266] [9267] --Certainly, John Eglinton mused, of all great men he is the most [9268] enigmatic. We know nothing but that he lived and suffered. Not even so [9269] much. Others abide our question. A shadow hangs over all the rest. [9270] [9271] --But HAMLET is so personal, isn't it? Mr Best pleaded. I mean, a kind of [9272] private paper, don't you know, of his private life. I mean, I don't care [9273] a button, don't you know, who is killed or who is guilty ... [9274] [9275] He rested an innocent book on the edge of the desk, smiling his defiance. [9276] His private papers in the original. TA AN BAD AR AN TIR. TAIM IN MO [9277] SHAGART. Put beurla on it, littlejohn. [9278] [9279] Quoth littlejohn Eglinton: [9280] [9281] --I was prepared for paradoxes from what Malachi Mulligan told us but I [9282] may as well warn you that if you want to shake my belief that Shakespeare [9283] is Hamlet you have a stern task before you. [9284] [9285] Bear with me. [9286] [9287] Stephen withstood the bane of miscreant eyes glinting stern under [9288] wrinkled brows. A basilisk. E QUANDO VEDE L'UOMO L'ATTOSCA. Messer [9289] Brunetto, I thank thee for the word. [9290] [9291] --As we, or mother Dana, weave and unweave our bodies, Stephen said, from [9292] day to day, their molecules shuttled to and fro, so does the artist weave [9293] and unweave his image. And as the mole on my right breast is where it was [9294] when I was born, though all my body has been woven of new stuff time [9295] after time, so through the ghost of the unquiet father the image of the [9296] unliving son looks forth. In the intense instant of imagination, when the [9297] mind, Shelley says, is a fading coal, that which I was is that which I am [9298] and that which in possibility I may come to be. So in the future, the [9299] sister of the past, I may see myself as I sit here now but by reflection [9300] from that which then I shall be. [9301] [9302] Drummond of Hawthornden helped you at that stile. [9303] [9304] --Yes, Mr Best said youngly. I feel Hamlet quite young. The bitterness [9305] might be from the father but the passages with Ophelia are surely from [9306] the son. [9307] [9308] Has the wrong sow by the lug. He is in my father. I am in his son. [9309] [9310] --That mole is the last to go, Stephen said, laughing. [9311] [9312] John Eglinton made a nothing pleasing mow. [9313] [9314] --If that were the birthmark of genius, he said, genius would be a drug [9315] in the market. The plays of Shakespeare's later years which Renan admired [9316] so much breathe another spirit. [9317] [9318] --The spirit of reconciliation, the quaker librarian breathed. [9319] [9320] --There can be no reconciliation, Stephen said, if there has not been a [9321] sundering. [9322] [9323] Said that. [9324] [9325] --If you want to know what are the events which cast their shadow over [9326] the hell of time of KING LEAR, OTHELLO, HAMLET, TROILUS AND CRESSIDA, [9327] look to see when and how the shadow lifts. What softens the heart of a [9328] man, shipwrecked in storms dire, Tried, like another Ulysses, Pericles, [9329] prince of Tyre? [9330] [9331] Head, redconecapped, buffeted, brineblinded. [9332] [9333] --A child, a girl, placed in his arms, Marina. [9334] [9335] --The leaning of sophists towards the bypaths of apocrypha is a constant [9336] quantity, John Eglinton detected. The highroads are dreary but they lead [9337] to the town. [9338] [9339] Good Bacon: gone musty. Shakespeare Bacon's wild oats. Cypherjugglers [9340] going the highroads. Seekers on the great quest. What town, good masters? [9341] Mummed in names: A. E., eon: Magee, John Eglinton. East of the sun, west [9342] of the moon: TIR NA N-OG. Booted the twain and staved. [9343] [9344] [9345] HOW MANY MILES TO DUBLIN? [9346] THREE SCORE AND TEN, SIR. [9347] WILL WE BE THERE BY CANDLELIGHT? [9348] [9349] [9350] --Mr Brandes accepts it, Stephen said, as the first play of the closing [9351] period. [9352] [9353] --Does he? What does Mr Sidney Lee, or Mr Simon Lazarus as some aver his [9354] name is, say of it? [9355] [9356] --Marina, Stephen said, a child of storm, Miranda, a wonder, Perdita, [9357] that which was lost. What was lost is given back to him: his daughter's [9358] child. MY DEAREST WIFE, Pericles says, WAS LIKE THIS MAID. Will any man [9359] love the daughter if he has not loved the mother? [9360] [9361] --The art of being a grandfather, Mr Best gan murmur. L'ART D'ETRE GRAND [9362] [9363] [9364] --Will he not see reborn in her, with the memory of his own youth added, [9365] another image? [9366] [9367] Do you know what you are talking about? Love, yes. Word known to all men. [9368] Amor vero aliquid alicui bonum vult unde et ea quae concupiscimus ... [9369] [9370] --His own image to a man with that queer thing genius is the standard of [9371] all experience, material and moral. Such an appeal will touch him. The [9372] images of other males of his blood will repel him. He will see in them [9373] grotesque attempts of nature to foretell or to repeat himself. [9374] [9375] The benign forehead of the quaker librarian enkindled rosily with hope. [9376] [9377] --I hope Mr Dedalus will work out his theory for the enlightenment of the [9378] public. And we ought to mention another Irish commentator, Mr George [9379] Bernard Shaw. Nor should we forget Mr Frank Harris. His articles on [9380] Shakespeare in the SATURDAY REVIEW were surely brilliant. Oddly enough he [9381] too draws for us an unhappy relation with the dark lady of the sonnets. [9382] The favoured rival is William Herbert, earl of Pembroke. I own that if [9383] the poet must be rejected such a rejection would seem more in harmony [9384] with--what shall I say?--our notions of what ought not to have been. [9385] [9386] Felicitously he ceased and held a meek head among them, auk's egg, prize [9387] of their fray. [9388] [9389] He thous and thees her with grave husbandwords. Dost love, Miriam? Dost [9390] love thy man? [9391] [9392] --That may be too, Stephen said. There's a saying of Goethe's which Mr [9393] Magee likes to quote. Beware of what you wish for in youth because you [9394] will get it in middle life. Why does he send to one who is a BUONAROBA, a [9395] bay where all men ride, a maid of honour with a scandalous girlhood, a [9396] lordling to woo for him? He was himself a lord of language and had made [9397] himself a coistrel gentleman and he had written ROMEO AND JULIET. Why? [9398] Belief in himself has been untimely killed. He was overborne in a [9399] cornfield first (ryefield, I should say) and he will never be a victor in [9400] his own eyes after nor play victoriously the game of laugh and lie down. [9401] Assumed dongiovannism will not save him. No later undoing will undo the [9402] first undoing. The tusk of the boar has wounded him there where love lies [9403] ableeding. If the shrew is worsted yet there remains to her woman's [9404] invisible weapon. There is, I feel in the words, some goad of the flesh [9405] driving him into a new passion, a darker shadow of the first, darkening [9406] even his own understanding of himself. A like fate awaits him and the two [9407] rages commingle in a whirlpool. [9408] [9409] They list. And in the porches of their ears I pour. [9410] [9411] --The soul has been before stricken mortally, a poison poured in the [9412] porch of a sleeping ear. But those who are done to death in sleep cannot [9413] know the manner of their quell unless their Creator endow their souls [9414] with that knowledge in the life to come. The poisoning and the beast with [9415] two backs that urged it King Hamlet's ghost could not know of were he not [9416] endowed with knowledge by his creator. That is why the speech (his lean [9417] unlovely English) is always turned elsewhere, backward. Ravisher and [9418] ravished, what he would but would not, go with him from Lucrece's [9419] bluecircled ivory globes to Imogen's breast, bare, with its mole [9420] cinquespotted. He goes back, weary of the creation he has piled up to [9421] hide him from himself, an old dog licking an old sore. But, because loss [9422] is his gain, he passes on towards eternity in undiminished personality, [9423] untaught by the wisdom he has written or by the laws he has revealed. His [9424] beaver is up. He is a ghost, a shadow now, the wind by Elsinore's rocks [9425] or what you will, the sea's voice, a voice heard only in the heart of him [9426] who is the substance of his shadow, the son consubstantial with the [9427] father. [9428] [9429] --Amen! was responded from the doorway. [9430] [9431] Hast thou found me, O mine enemy? [9432] [9433] ENTR'ACTE. [9434] [9435] A ribald face, sullen as a dean's, Buck Mulligan came forward, then [9436] blithe in motley, towards the greeting of their smiles. My telegram. [9437] [9438] --You were speaking of the gaseous vertebrate, if I mistake not? he asked [9439] of Stephen. [9440] [9441] Primrosevested he greeted gaily with his doffed Panama as with a bauble. [9442] [9443] They make him welcome. WAS DU VERLACHST WIRST DU NOCH DIENEN. [9444] [9445] Brood of mockers: Photius, pseudomalachi, Johann Most. [9446] [9447] He Who Himself begot middler the Holy Ghost and Himself sent Himself, [9448] Agenbuyer, between Himself and others, Who, put upon by His fiends, [9449] stripped and whipped, was nailed like bat to barndoor, starved on [9450] crosstree, Who let Him bury, stood up, harrowed hell, fared into heaven [9451] and there these nineteen hundred years sitteth on the right hand of His [9452] Own Self but yet shall come in the latter day to doom the quick and dead [9453] when all the quick shall be dead already. [9454] [9455] Glo--o--ri--a in ex--cel--sis De--o. [9456] [9457] He lifts his hands. Veils fall. O, flowers! Bells with bells with bells [9458] aquiring. [9459] [9460] --Yes, indeed, the quaker librarian said. A most instructive discussion. [9461] Mr Mulligan, I'll be bound, has his theory too of the play and of [9462] Shakespeare. All sides of life should be represented. [9463] [9464] He smiled on all sides equally. [9465] [9466] Buck Mulligan thought, puzzled: [9467] [9468] --Shakespeare? he said. I seem to know the name. [9469] [9470] A flying sunny smile rayed in his loose features. [9471] [9472] --To be sure, he said, remembering brightly. The chap that writes like [9473] Synge. [9474] [9475] Mr Best turned to him. [9476] [9477] --Haines missed you, he said. Did you meet him? He'll see you after at [9478] the D. B. C. He's gone to Gill's to buy Hyde's LOVESONGS OF CONNACHT. [9479] [9480] --I came through the museum, Buck Mulligan said. Was he here? [9481] [9482] --The bard's fellowcountrymen, John Eglinton answered, are rather tired [9483] perhaps of our brilliancies of theorising. I hear that an actress played [9484] Hamlet for the fourhundredandeighth time last night in Dublin. Vining [9485] held that the prince was a woman. Has no-one made him out to be an [9486] Irishman? Judge Barton, I believe, is searching for some clues. He swears [9487] (His Highness not His Lordship) by saint Patrick. [9488] [9489] --The most brilliant of all is that story of Wilde's, Mr Best said, [9490] lifting his brilliant notebook. That PORTRAIT OF MR W. H. where he proves [9491] that the sonnets were written by a Willie Hughes, a man all hues. [9492] [9493] --For Willie Hughes, is it not? the quaker librarian asked. [9494] [9495] Or Hughie Wills? Mr William Himself. W. H.: who am I? [9496] [9497] --I mean, for Willie Hughes, Mr Best said, amending his gloss easily. Of [9498] course it's all paradox, don't you know, Hughes and hews and hues, the [9499] colour, but it's so typical the way he works it out. It's the very [9500] essence of Wilde, don't you know. The light touch. [9501] [9502] His glance touched their faces lightly as he smiled, a blond ephebe. Tame [9503] essence of Wilde. [9504] [9505] You're darned witty. Three drams of usquebaugh you drank with Dan Deasy's [9506] ducats. [9507] [9508] How much did I spend? O, a few shillings. [9509] [9510] For a plump of pressmen. Humour wet and dry. [9511] [9512] Wit. You would give your five wits for youth's proud livery he pranks in. [9513] Lineaments of gratified desire. [9514] [9515] There be many mo. Take her for me. In pairing time. Jove, a cool ruttime [9516] send them. Yea, turtledove her. [9517] [9518] Eve. Naked wheatbellied sin. A snake coils her, fang in's kiss. [9519] [9520] --Do you think it is only a paradox? the quaker librarian was asking. The [9521] mocker is never taken seriously when he is most serious. [9522] [9523] They talked seriously of mocker's seriousness. [9524] [9525] Buck Mulligan's again heavy face eyed Stephen awhile. Then, his head [9526] wagging, he came near, drew a folded telegram from his pocket. His mobile [9527] lips read, smiling with new delight. [9528] [9529] --Telegram! he said. Wonderful inspiration! Telegram! A papal bull! [9530] [9531] He sat on a corner of the unlit desk, reading aloud joyfully: [9532] [9533] --THE SENTIMENTALIST IS HE WHO WOULD ENJOY WITHOUT INCURRING THE IMMENSE [9534] DEBTORSHIP FOR A THING DONE. Signed: Dedalus. Where did you launch it [9535] from? The kips? No. College Green. Have you drunk the four quid? The aunt [9536] is going to call on your unsubstantial father. Telegram! Malachi [9537] Mulligan, The Ship, lower Abbey street. O, you peerless mummer! O, you [9538] priestified Kinchite! [9539] [9540] Joyfully he thrust message and envelope into a pocket but keened in a [9541] querulous brogue: [9542] [9543] --It's what I'm telling you, mister honey, it's queer and sick we were, [9544] Haines and myself, the time himself brought it in. 'Twas murmur we did [9545] for a gallus potion would rouse a friar, I'm thinking, and he limp with [9546] leching. And we one hour and two hours and three hours in Connery's [9547] sitting civil waiting for pints apiece. [9548] [9549] He wailed: [9550] [9551] --And we to be there, mavrone, and you to be unbeknownst sending us your [9552] conglomerations the way we to have our tongues out a yard long like the [9553] drouthy clerics do be fainting for a pussful. [9554] [9555] Stephen laughed. [9556] [9557] Quickly, warningfully Buck Mulligan bent down. [9558] [9559] --The tramper Synge is looking for you, he said, to murder you. He heard [9560] you pissed on his halldoor in Glasthule. He's out in pampooties to murder [9561] you. [9562] [9563] --Me! Stephen exclaimed. That was your contribution to literature. [9564] [9565] Buck Mulligan gleefully bent back, laughing to the dark eavesdropping [9566] ceiling. [9567] [9568] --Murder you! he laughed. [9569] [9570] Harsh gargoyle face that warred against me over our mess of hash of [9571] lights in rue Saint-Andre-des-Arts. In words of words for words, [9572] palabras. Oisin with Patrick. Faunman he met in Clamart woods, [9573] brandishing a winebottle. C'EST VENDREDI SAINT! Murthering Irish. His [9574] image, wandering, he met. I mine. I met a fool i'the forest. [9575] [9576] --Mr Lyster, an attendant said from the door ajar. [9577] [9578] -- ... in which everyone can find his own. So Mr Justice Madden in his [9579] DIARY OF MASTER WILLIAM SILENCE has found the hunting terms ... Yes? What [9580] is it? [9581] [9582] --There's a gentleman here, sir, the attendant said, coming forward and [9583] offering a card. From the FREEMAN. He wants to see the files of the [9584] KILKENNY PEOPLE for last year. [9585] [9586] --Certainly, certainly, certainly. Is the gentleman? ... [9587] [9588] He took the eager card, glanced, not saw, laid down unglanced, looked, [9589] asked, creaked, asked: [9590] [9591] --Is he? ... O, there! [9592] [9593] Brisk in a galliard he was off, out. In the daylit corridor he talked [9594] with voluble pains of zeal, in duty bound, most fair, most kind, most [9595] honest broadbrim. [9596] [9597] --This gentleman? FREEMAN'S JOURNAL? KILKENNY PEOPLE? To be sure. Good [9598] day, sir. KILKENNY ... We have certainly ... [9599] [9600] A patient silhouette waited, listening. [9601] [9602] --All the leading provincial ... NORTHERN WHIG, CORK EXAMINER, [9603] ENNISCORTHY GUARDIAN, 1903 ... Will you please? ... Evans, conduct this [9604] gentleman ... If you just follow the atten ... Or, please allow me ... [9605] This way ... Please, sir ... [9606] [9607] Voluble, dutiful, he led the way to all the provincial papers, a bowing [9608] dark figure following his hasty heels. [9609] [9610] The door closed. [9611] [9612] --The sheeny! Buck Mulligan cried. [9613] [9614] He jumped up and snatched the card. [9615] [9616] --What's his name? Ikey Moses? Bloom. [9617] [9618] He rattled on: [9619] [9620] --Jehovah, collector of prepuces, is no more. I found him over in the [9621] museum where I went to hail the foamborn Aphrodite. The Greek mouth that [9622] has never been twisted in prayer. Every day we must do homage to her. [9623] LIFE OF LIFE, THY LIPS ENKINDLE. [9624] [9625] Suddenly he turned to Stephen: [9626] [9627] --He knows you. He knows your old fellow. O, I fear me, he is Greeker [9628] than the Greeks. His pale Galilean eyes were upon her mesial groove. [9629] Venus Kallipyge. O, the thunder of those loins! THE GOD PURSUING THE [9630] MAIDEN HID. [9631] [9632] --We want to hear more, John Eglinton decided with Mr Best's approval. We [9633] begin to be interested in Mrs S. Till now we had thought of her, if at [9634] all, as a patient Griselda, a Penelope stayathome. [9635] [9636] --Antisthenes, pupil of Gorgias, Stephen said, took the palm of beauty [9637] from Kyrios Menelaus' brooddam, Argive Helen, the wooden mare of Troy in [9638] whom a score of heroes slept, and handed it to poor Penelope. Twenty [9639] years he lived in London and, during part of that time, he drew a salary [9640] equal to that of the lord chancellor of Ireland. His life was rich. His [9641] art, more than the art of feudalism as Walt Whitman called it, is the art [9642] of surfeit. Hot herringpies, green mugs of sack, honeysauces, sugar of [9643] roses, marchpane, gooseberried pigeons, ringocandies. Sir Walter Raleigh, [9644] when they arrested him, had half a million francs on his back including a [9645] pair of fancy stays. The gombeenwoman Eliza Tudor had underlinen enough [9646] to vie with her of Sheba. Twenty years he dallied there between conjugial [9647] love and its chaste delights and scortatory love and its foul pleasures. [9648] You know Manningham's story of the burgher's wife who bade Dick Burbage [9649] to her bed after she had seen him in RICHARD III and how Shakespeare, [9650] overhearing, without more ado about nothing, took the cow by the horns [9651] and, when Burbage came knocking at the gate, answered from the capon's [9652] blankets: WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR CAME BEFORE RICHARD III. And the gay [9653] lakin, mistress Fitton, mount and cry O, and his dainty birdsnies, lady [9654] Penelope Rich, a clean quality woman is suited for a player, and the [9655] punks of the bankside, a penny a time. [9656] [9657] Cours la Reine. ENCORE VINGT SOUS. NOUS FERONS DE PETITES COCHONNERIES. [9658] MINETTE? TU VEUX? [9659] [9660] --The height of fine society. And sir William Davenant of oxford's mother [9661] with her cup of canary for any cockcanary. [9662] [9663] Buck Mulligan, his pious eyes upturned, prayed: [9664] [9665] --Blessed Margaret Mary Anycock! [9666] [9667] --And Harry of six wives' daughter. And other lady friends from neighbour [9668] seats as Lawn Tennyson, gentleman poet, sings. But all those twenty years [9669] what do you suppose poor Penelope in Stratford was doing behind the [9670] diamond panes? [9671] [9672] Do and do. Thing done. In a rosery of Fetter lane of Gerard, herbalist, [9673] he walks, greyedauburn. An azured harebell like her veins. Lids of Juno's [9674] eyes, violets. He walks. One life is all. One body. Do. But do. Afar, in [9675] a reek of lust and squalor, hands are laid on whiteness. [9676] [9677] Buck Mulligan rapped John Eglinton's desk sharply. [9678] [9679] --Whom do you suspect? he challenged. [9680] [9681] --Say that he is the spurned lover in the sonnets. Once spurned twice [9682] spurned. But the court wanton spurned him for a lord, his dearmylove. [9683] [9684] Love that dare not speak its name. [9685] [9686] --As an Englishman, you mean, John sturdy Eglinton put in, he loved a [9687] lord. [9688] [9689] Old wall where sudden lizards flash. At Charenton I watched them. [9690] [9691] --It seems so, Stephen said, when he wants to do for him, and for all [9692] other and singular uneared wombs, the holy office an ostler does for the [9693] stallion. Maybe, like Socrates, he had a midwife to mother as he had a [9694] shrew to wife. But she, the giglot wanton, did not break a bedvow. Two [9695] deeds are rank in that ghost's mind: a broken vow and the dullbrained [9696] yokel on whom her favour has declined, deceased husband's brother. Sweet [9697] Ann, I take it, was hot in the blood. Once a wooer, twice a wooer. [9698] [9699] Stephen turned boldly in his chair. [9700] [9701] --The burden of proof is with you not with me, he said frowning. If you [9702] deny that in the fifth scene of HAMLET he has branded her with infamy [9703] tell me why there is no mention of her during the thirtyfour years [9704] between the day she married him and the day she buried him. All those [9705] women saw their men down and under: Mary, her goodman John, Ann, her poor [9706] dear Willun, when he went and died on her, raging that he was the first [9707] to go, Joan, her four brothers, Judith, her husband and all her sons, [9708] Susan, her husband too, while Susan's daughter, Elizabeth, to use [9709] granddaddy's words, wed her second, having killed her first. [9710] [9711] O, yes, mention there is. In the years when he was living richly in royal [9712] London to pay a debt she had to borrow forty shillings from her father's [9713] shepherd. Explain you then. Explain the swansong too wherein he has [9714] commended her to posterity. [9715] [9716] He faced their silence. [9717] [9718] To whom thus Eglinton: [9719] [9720] [9721] You mean the will. [9722] But that has been explained, I believe, by jurists. [9723] She was entitled to her widow's dower [9724] At common law. His legal knowledge was great [9725] Our judges tell us. [9726] Him Satan fleers, [9727] Mocker: [9728] And therefore he left out her name [9729] From the first draft but he did not leave out [9730] The presents for his granddaughter, for his daughters, [9731] For his sister, for his old cronies in Stratford [9732] And in London. And therefore when he was urged, [9733] As I believe, to name her [9734] He left her his [9735] Secondbest [9736] Bed. [9737] PUNKT. [9738] Leftherhis [9739] Secondbest [9740] Leftherhis [9741] Bestabed [9742] Secabest [9743] Leftabed. [9744] [9745] [9746] Woa! [9747] [9748] AMPLIUS. IN SOCIETATE HUMANA HOC EST MAXIME NECESSARIUM UT SIT AMICITIA [9749] INTER MULTOS. [9750] [9751] --Saint Thomas, Stephen began ... [9752] [9753] --ORA PRO NOBIS, Monk Mulligan groaned, sinking to a chair. [9754] [9755] There he keened a wailing rune. [9756] [9757] --POGUE MAHONE! ACUSHLA MACHREE! It's destroyed we are from this day! [9758] It's destroyed we are surely! [9759] [9760] All smiled their smiles. [9761] [9762] --Saint Thomas, Stephen smiling said, whose gorbellied works I enjoy [9763] reading in the original, writing of incest from a standpoint different [9764] from that of the new Viennese school Mr Magee spoke of, likens it in his [9765] wise and curious way to an avarice of the emotions. He means that the [9766] love so given to one near in blood is covetously withheld from some [9767] stranger who, it may be, hungers for it. Jews, whom christians tax with [9768] avarice, are of all races the most given to intermarriage. Accusations [9769] are made in anger. The christian laws which built up the hoards of the [9770] jews (for whom, as for the lollards, storm was shelter) bound their [9771] affections too with hoops of steel. Whether these be sins or virtues old [9772] Nobodaddy will tell us at doomsday leet. But a man who holds so tightly [9773] to what he calls his rights over what he calls his debts will hold [9774] tightly also to what he calls his rights over her whom he calls his wife. [9775] No sir smile neighbour shall covet his ox or his wife or his manservant [9776] or his maidservant or his jackass. [9777] [9778] --Or his jennyass, Buck Mulligan antiphoned. [9779] [9780] --Gentle Will is being roughly handled, gentle Mr Best said gently. [9781] [9782] --Which will? gagged sweetly Buck Mulligan. We are getting mixed. [9783] [9784] --The will to live, John Eglinton philosophised, for poor Ann, Will's [9785] widow, is the will to die. [9786] [9787] --REQUIESCAT! Stephen prayed. [9788] [9789] [9790] WHAT OF ALL THE WILL TO DO? [9791] IT HAS VANISHED LONG AGO ... [9792] [9793] [9794] --She lies laid out in stark stiffness in that secondbest bed, the mobled [9795] queen, even though you prove that a bed in those days was as rare as a [9796] motorcar is now and that its carvings were the wonder of seven parishes. [9797] In old age she takes up with gospellers (one stayed with her at New Place [9798] and drank a quart of sack the town council paid for but in which bed he [9799] slept it skills not to ask) and heard she had a soul. She read or had [9800] read to her his chapbooks preferring them to the MERRY WIVES and, loosing [9801] her nightly waters on the jordan, she thought over HOOKS AND EYES FOR [9802] BELIEVERS' BREECHES and THE MOST SPIRITUAL SNUFFBOX TO MAKE THE MOST [9803] DEVOUT SOULS SNEEZE. Venus has twisted her lips in prayer. Agenbite of [9804] inwit: remorse of conscience. It is an age of exhausted whoredom groping [9805] for its god. [9806] [9807] --History shows that to be true, INQUIT EGLINTONUS CHRONOLOLOGOS. The [9808] ages succeed one another. But we have it on high authority that a man's [9809] worst enemies shall be those of his own house and family. I feel that [9810] Russell is right. What do we care for his wife or father? I should say [9811] that only family poets have family lives. Falstaff was not a family man. [9812] I feel that the fat knight is his supreme creation. [9813] [9814] Lean, he lay back. Shy, deny thy kindred, the unco guid. Shy, supping [9815] with the godless, he sneaks the cup. A sire in Ultonian Antrim bade it [9816] him. Visits him here on quarter days. Mr Magee, sir, there's a gentleman [9817] to see you. Me? Says he's your father, sir. Give me my Wordsworth. Enter [9818] Magee Mor Matthew, a rugged rough rugheaded kern, in strossers with a [9819] buttoned codpiece, his nether stocks bemired with clauber of ten forests, [9820] a wand of wilding in his hand. [9821] [9822] Your own? He knows your old fellow. The widower. [9823] [9824] Hurrying to her squalid deathlair from gay Paris on the quayside I [9825] touched his hand. The voice, new warmth, speaking. Dr Bob Kenny is [9826] attending her. The eyes that wish me well. But do not know me. [9827] [9828] --A father, Stephen said, battling against hopelessness, is a necessary [9829] evil. He wrote the play in the months that followed his father's death. [9830] If you hold that he, a greying man with two marriageable daughters, with [9831] thirtyfive years of life, NEL MEZZO DEL CAMMIN DI NOSTRA VITA, with fifty [9832] of experience, is the beardless undergraduate from Wittenberg then you [9833] must hold that his seventyyear old mother is the lustful queen. No. The [9834] corpse of John Shakespeare does not walk the night. From hour to hour it [9835] rots and rots. He rests, disarmed of fatherhood, having devised that [9836] mystical estate upon his son. Boccaccio's Calandrino was the first and [9837] last man who felt himself with child. Fatherhood, in the sense of [9838] conscious begetting, is unknown to man. It is a mystical estate, an [9839] apostolic succession, from only begetter to only begotten. On that [9840] mystery and not on the madonna which the cunning Italian intellect flung [9841] to the mob of Europe the church is founded and founded irremovably [9842] because founded, like the world, macro and microcosm, upon the void. Upon [9843] incertitude, upon unlikelihood. AMOR MATRIS, subjective and objective [9844] genitive, may be the only true thing in life. Paternity may be a legal [9845] fiction. Who is the father of any son that any son should love him or he [9846] any son? [9847] [9848] What the hell are you driving at? [9849] [9850] I know. Shut up. Blast you. I have reasons. [9851] [9852] AMPLIUS. ADHUC. ITERUM. POSTEA. [9853] [9854] Are you condemned to do this? [9855] [9856] --They are sundered by a bodily shame so steadfast that the criminal [9857] annals of the world, stained with all other incests and bestialities, [9858] hardly record its breach. Sons with mothers, sires with daughters, lesbic [9859] sisters, loves that dare not speak their name, nephews with grandmothers, [9860] jailbirds with keyholes, queens with prize bulls. The son unborn mars [9861] beauty: born, he brings pain, divides affection, increases care. He is a [9862] new male: his growth is his father's decline, his youth his father's [9863] envy, his friend his father's enemy. [9864] [9865] In rue Monsieur-le-Prince I thought it. [9866] [9867] --What links them in nature? An instant of blind rut. [9868] [9869] Am I a father? If I were? [9870] [9871] Shrunken uncertain hand. [9872] [9873] --Sabellius, the African, subtlest heresiarch of all the beasts of the [9874] field, held that the Father was Himself His Own Son. The bulldog of [9875] Aquin, with whom no word shall be impossible, refutes him. Well: if the [9876] father who has not a son be not a father can the son who has not a father [9877] be a son? When Rutlandbaconsouthamptonshakespeare or another poet of the [9878] same name in the comedy of errors wrote HAMLET he was not the father of [9879] his own son merely but, being no more a son, he was and felt himself the [9880] father of all his race, the father of his own grandfather, the father of [9881] his unborn grandson who, by the same token, never was born, for nature, [9882] as Mr Magee understands her, abhors perfection. [9883] [9884] Eglintoneyes, quick with pleasure, looked up shybrightly. Gladly [9885] glancing, a merry puritan, through the twisted eglantine. [9886] [9887] Flatter. Rarely. But flatter. [9888] [9889] --Himself his own father, Sonmulligan told himself. Wait. I am big with [9890] child. I have an unborn child in my brain. Pallas Athena! A play! The [9891] play's the thing! Let me parturiate! [9892] [9893] He clasped his paunchbrow with both birthaiding hands. [9894] [9895] --As for his family, Stephen said, his mother's name lives in the forest [9896] of Arden. Her death brought from him the scene with Volumnia in [9897] CORIOLANUS. His boyson's death is the deathscene of young Arthur in KING [9898] JOHN. Hamlet, the black prince, is Hamnet Shakespeare. Who the girls in [9899] THE TEMPEST, in PERICLES, in WINTER'S TALE are we know. Who Cleopatra, [9900] fleshpot of Egypt, and Cressid and Venus are we may guess. But there is [9901] another member of his family who is recorded. [9902] [9903] --The plot thickens, John Eglinton said. [9904] [9905] The quaker librarian, quaking, tiptoed in, quake, his mask, quake, with [9906] haste, quake, quack. [9907] [9908] Door closed. Cell. Day. [9909] [9910] They list. Three. They. [9911] [9912] I you he they. [9913] [9914] Come, mess. [9915] [9916] STEPHEN: He had three brothers, Gilbert, Edmund, Richard. Gilbert in his [9917] old age told some cavaliers he got a pass for nowt from Maister Gatherer [9918] one time mass he did and he seen his brud Maister Wull the playwriter up [9919] in Lunnon in a wrastling play wud a man on's back. The playhouse sausage [9920] filled Gilbert's soul. He is nowhere: but an Edmund and a Richard are [9921] recorded in the works of sweet William. [9922] [9923] MAGEEGLINJOHN: Names! What's in a name? [9924] [9925] BEST: That is my name, Richard, don't you know. I hope you are going to [9926] say a good word for Richard, don't you know, for my sake. [9927] [9928] (Laughter) [9929] [9930] BUCKMULLIGAN: (PIANO, DIMINUENDO) [9931] [9932] Then outspoke medical Dick [9933] To his comrade medical Davy ... [9934] [9935] STEPHEN: In his trinity of black Wills, the villain shakebags, Iago, [9936] Richard Crookback, Edmund in KING LEAR, two bear the wicked uncles' [9937] names. Nay, that last play was written or being written while his brother [9938] Edmund lay dying in Southwark. [9939] [9940] BEST: I hope Edmund is going to catch it. I don't want Richard, my [9941] name ... [9942] [9943] (Laughter) [9944] [9945] QUAKERLYSTER: (A TEMPO) But he that filches from me my good name ... [9946] [9947] STEPHEN: (STRINGENDO) He has hidden his own name, a fair name, William, [9948] in the plays, a super here, a clown there, as a painter of old Italy set [9949] his face in a dark corner of his canvas. He has revealed it in the [9950] sonnets where there is Will in overplus. Like John o'Gaunt his name is [9951] dear to him, as dear as the coat and crest he toadied for, on a bend [9952] sable a spear or steeled argent, honorificabilitudinitatibus, dearer than [9953] his glory of greatest shakescene in the country. What's in a name? That [9954] is what we ask ourselves in childhood when we write the name that we are [9955] told is ours. A star, a daystar, a firedrake, rose at his birth. It shone [9956] by day in the heavens alone, brighter than Venus in the night, and by [9957] night it shone over delta in Cassiopeia, the recumbent constellation [9958] which is the signature of his initial among the stars. His eyes watched [9959] it, lowlying on the horizon, eastward of the bear, as he walked by the [9960] slumberous summer fields at midnight returning from Shottery and from her [9961] arms. [9962] [9963] [9964] Both satisfied. I too. [9965] [9966] Don't tell them he was nine years old when it was quenched. [9967] [9968] And from her arms. [9969] [9970] Wait to be wooed and won. Ay, meacock. Who will woo you? [9971] [9972] Read the skies. AUTONTIMORUMENOS. BOUS STEPHANOUMENOS. Where's your [9973] configuration? Stephen, Stephen, cut the bread even. S. D: SUA DONNA. [9974] GIA: DI LUI. GELINDO RISOLVE DI NON AMARE S. D. [9975] [9976] --What is that, Mr Dedalus? the quaker librarian asked. Was it a [9977] celestial phenomenon? [9978] [9979] --A star by night, Stephen said. A pillar of the cloud by day. [9980] [9981] What more's to speak? [9982] [9983] Stephen looked on his hat, his stick, his boots. [9984] [9985] STEPHANOS, my crown. My sword. His boots are spoiling the shape of [9986] my feet. Buy a pair. Holes in my socks. Handkerchief too. [9987] [9988] --You make good use of the name, John Eglinton allowed. Your own name [9989] is strange enough. I suppose it explains your fantastical humour. [9990] [9991] Me, Magee and Mulligan. [9992] [9993] Fabulous artificer. The hawklike man. You flew. Whereto? [9994] Newhaven-Dieppe, steerage passenger. Paris and back. Lapwing. Icarus. [9995] PATER, AIT. Seabedabbled, fallen, weltering. Lapwing you are. Lapwing be. [9996] [9997] Mr Best eagerquietly lifted his book to say: [9998] [9999] --That's very interesting because that brother motive, don't you know, we [10000] find also in the old Irish myths. Just what you say. The three brothers [10001] Shakespeare. In Grimm too, don't you know, the fairytales. The third [10002] brother that always marries the sleeping beauty and wins the best prize. [10003] [10004] Best of Best brothers. Good, better, best. [10005] [10006] The quaker librarian springhalted near. [10007] [10008] --I should like to know, he said, which brother you ... I understand you [10009] to suggest there was misconduct with one of the brothers ... But [10010] perhaps I am anticipating? [10011] [10012] He caught himself in the act: looked at all: refrained. [10013] [10014] An attendant from the doorway called: [10015] [10016] --Mr Lyster! Father Dineen wants ... [10017] [10018] --O, Father Dineen! Directly. [10019] [10020] Swiftly rectly creaking rectly rectly he was rectly gone. [10021] [10022] John Eglinton touched the foil. [10023] [10024] --Come, he said. Let us hear what you have to say of Richard and [10025] Edmund. You kept them for the last, didn't you? [10026] [10027] --In asking you to remember those two noble kinsmen nuncle Richie and [10028] nuncle Edmund, Stephen answered, I feel I am asking too much perhaps. A [10029] brother is as easily forgotten as an umbrella. [10030] [10031] Lapwing. [10032] [10033] Where is your brother? Apothecaries' hall. My whetstone. Him, then [10034] Cranly, Mulligan: now these. Speech, speech. But act. Act speech. They [10035] mock to try you. Act. Be acted on. [10036] [10037] Lapwing. [10038] [10039] I am tired of my voice, the voice of Esau. My kingdom for a drink. [10040] [10041] On. [10042] [10043] --You will say those names were already in the chronicles from which he [10044] took the stuff of his plays. Why did he take them rather than others? [10045] Richard, a whoreson crookback, misbegotten, makes love to a widowed [10046] Ann (what's in a name?), woos and wins her, a whoreson merry widow. [10047] Richard the conqueror, third brother, came after William the conquered. [10048] The other four acts of that play hang limply from that first. Of all his [10049] kings Richard is the only king unshielded by Shakespeare's reverence, [10050] the angel of the world. Why is the underplot of KING LEAR in which Edmund [10051] figures lifted out of Sidney's ARCADIA and spatchcocked on to a Celtic [10052] legend older than history? [10053] [10054] --That was Will's way, John Eglinton defended. We should not now [10055] combine a Norse saga with an excerpt from a novel by George Meredith. [10056] QUE VOULEZ-VOUS? Moore would say. He puts Bohemia on the seacoast and [10057] makes Ulysses quote Aristotle. [10058] [10059] --Why? Stephen answered himself. Because the theme of the false or the [10060] usurping or the adulterous brother or all three in one is to Shakespeare, [10061] what the poor are not, always with him. The note of banishment, [10062] banishment from the heart, banishment from home, sounds uninterruptedly [10063] from THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA onward till Prospero breaks his staff, [10064] buries it certain fathoms in the earth and drowns his book. It doubles [10065] itself in the middle of his life, reflects itself in another, repeats [10066] itself, protasis, epitasis, catastasis, catastrophe. It repeats [10067] itself again when he is near the grave, when his married daughter [10068] Susan, chip of the old block, is accused of adultery. But it was [10069] the original sin that darkened his understanding, weakened his [10070] will and left in him a strong inclination to evil. The words are [10071] those of my lords bishops of Maynooth. An original sin and, like original [10072] sin, committed by another in whose sin he too has sinned. It is between [10073] the lines of his last written words, it is petrified on his tombstone [10074] under which her four bones are not to be laid. Age has not withered it. [10075] Beauty and peace have not done it away. It is in infinite variety [10076] everywhere in the world he has created, in MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING, twice [10077] in AS YOU LIKE IT, in THE TEMPEST, in HAMLET, in MEASURE FOR MEASURE--and [10078] in all the other plays which I have not read. [10079] [10080] He laughed to free his mind from his mind's bondage. [10081] [10082] Judge Eglinton summed up. [10083] [10084] --The truth is midway, he affirmed. He is the ghost and the prince. He is [10085] all in all. [10086] [10087] --He is, Stephen said. The boy of act one is the mature man of act five. [10088] All in all. In CYMBELINE, in OTHELLO he is bawd and cuckold. He acts and [10089] is acted on. Lover of an ideal or a perversion, like Jose he kills the [10090] real Carmen. His unremitting intellect is the hornmad Iago ceaselessly [10091] willing that the moor in him shall suffer. [10092] [10093] --Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuck Mulligan clucked lewdly. O word of fear! [10094] [10095] Dark dome received, reverbed. [10096] [10097] --And what a character is Iago! undaunted John Eglinton exclaimed. [10098] When all is said Dumas FILS (or is it Dumas PERE?) is right. After God [10099] Shakespeare has created most. [10100] [10101] --Man delights him not nor woman neither, Stephen said. He returns after [10102] a life of absence to that spot of earth where he was born, where he has [10103] always been, man and boy, a silent witness and there, his journey of life [10104] ended, he plants his mulberrytree in the earth. Then dies. The motion is [10105] ended. Gravediggers bury Hamlet PERE and Hamlet FILS. A king and a [10106] prince at last in death, with incidental music. And, what though murdered [10107] and betrayed, bewept by all frail tender hearts for, Dane or Dubliner, [10108] sorrow for the dead is the only husband from whom they refuse to be [10109] divorced. If you like the epilogue look long on it: prosperous Prospero, [10110] the good man rewarded, Lizzie, grandpa's lump of love, and nuncle Richie, [10111] the bad man taken off by poetic justice to the place where the bad niggers [10112] go. Strong curtain. He found in the world without as actual what was in his [10113] world within as possible. Maeterlinck says: IF SOCRATES LEAVE HIS HOUSE [10114] TODAY HE WILL FIND THE SAGE SEATED ON HIS DOORSTEP. IF JUDAS GO FORTH [10115] TONIGHT IT IS TO JUDAS HIS STEPS WILL TEND. Every life is many days, [10116] day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, [10117] old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love, but always meeting [10118] ourselves. The playwright who wrote the folio of this world and wrote it [10119] badly (He gave us light first and the sun two days later), the lord of [10120] things as they are whom the most Roman of catholics call DIO BOIA, [10121] hangman god, is doubtless all in all in all of us, ostler and butcher, [10122] and would be bawd and cuckold too but that in the economy of heaven, [10123] foretold by Hamlet, there are no more marriages, glorified man, an [10124] androgynous angel, being a wife unto himself. [10125] [10126] --EUREKA! Buck Mulligan cried. EUREKA! [10127] [10128] Suddenly happied he jumped up and reached in a stride John Eglinton's [10129] desk. [10130] [10131] --May I? he said. The Lord has spoken to Malachi. [10132] [10133] He began to scribble on a slip of paper. [10134] [10135] Take some slips from the counter going out. [10136] [10137] --Those who are married, Mr Best, douce herald, said, all save one, shall [10138] live. The rest shall keep as they are. [10139] [10140] He laughed, unmarried, at Eglinton Johannes, of arts a bachelor. [10141] [10142] Unwed, unfancied, ware of wiles, they fingerponder nightly each his [10143] variorum edition of THE TAMING OF THE SHREW. [10144] [10145] --You are a delusion, said roundly John Eglinton to Stephen. You have [10146] brought us all this way to show us a French triangle. Do you believe your [10147] own theory? [10148] [10149] --No, Stephen said promptly. [10150] [10151] --Are you going to write it? Mr Best asked. You ought to make it a [10152] dialogue, don't you know, like the Platonic dialogues Wilde wrote. [10153] [10154] John Eclecticon doubly smiled. [10155] [10156] --Well, in that case, he said, I don't see why you should expect payment [10157] for it since you don't believe it yourself. Dowden believes there is some [10158] mystery in HAMLET but will say no more. Herr Bleibtreu, the man Piper met [10159] in Berlin, who is working up that Rutland theory, believes that the secret [10160] is hidden in the Stratford monument. He is going to visit the present [10161] duke, Piper says, and prove to him that his ancestor wrote the plays. [10162] It will come as a surprise to his grace. But he believes his theory. [10163] [10164] I believe, O Lord, help my unbelief. That is, help me to believe or help [10165] me to unbelieve? Who helps to believe? EGOMEN. Who to unbelieve? Other [10166] chap. [10167] [10168] --You are the only contributor to DANA who asks for pieces of silver. Then [10169] I don't know about the next number. Fred Ryan wants space for an article [10170] on economics. [10171] [10172] Fraidrine. Two pieces of silver he lent me. Tide you over. Economics. [10173] [10174] --For a guinea, Stephen said, you can publish this interview. [10175] [10176] Buck Mulligan stood up from his laughing scribbling, laughing: and [10177] then gravely said, honeying malice: [10178] [10179] --I called upon the bard Kinch at his summer residence in upper [10180] Mecklenburgh street and found him deep in the study of the SUMMA CONTRA [10181] GENTILES in the company of two gonorrheal ladies, Fresh Nelly and Rosalie, [10182] the coalquay whore. [10183] [10184] He broke away. [10185] [10186] --Come, Kinch. Come, wandering Aengus of the birds. [10187] [10188] Come, Kinch. You have eaten all we left. Ay. I will serve you your orts [10189] and offals. [10190] [10191] Stephen rose. [10192] [10193] Life is many days. This will end. [10194] [10195] --We shall see you tonight, John Eglinton said. NOTRE AMI Moore says [10196] Malachi Mulligan must be there. [10197] [10198] Buck Mulligan flaunted his slip and panama. [10199] [10200] --Monsieur Moore, he said, lecturer on French letters to the youth of [10201] Ireland. I'll be there. Come, Kinch, the bards must drink. Can you walk [10202] straight? [10203] [10204] Laughing, he ... [10205] [10206] Swill till eleven. Irish nights entertainment. [10207] [10208] Lubber ... [10209] [10210] Stephen followed a lubber ... [10211] [10212] One day in the national library we had a discussion. Shakes. After. [10213] His lub back: I followed. I gall his kibe. [10214] [10215] Stephen, greeting, then all amort, followed a lubber jester, a [10216] wellkempt head, newbarbered, out of the vaulted cell into a shattering [10217] daylight of no thought. [10218] [10219] What have I learned? Of them? Of me? [10220] [10221] Walk like Haines now. [10222] [10223] The constant readers' room. In the readers' book Cashel Boyle [10224] O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell parafes his polysyllables. Item: was [10225] Hamlet mad? The quaker's pate godlily with a priesteen in booktalk. [10226] [10227] --O please do, sir ... I shall be most pleased ... [10228] [10229] Amused Buck Mulligan mused in pleasant murmur with himself, selfnodding: [10230] [10231] --A pleased bottom. [10232] [10233] The turnstile. [10234] [10235] Is that? ... Blueribboned hat ... Idly writing ... What? Looked? ... [10236] [10237] The curving balustrade: smoothsliding Mincius. [10238] [10239] Puck Mulligan, panamahelmeted, went step by step, iambing, trolling: [10240] [10241] [10242] JOHN EGLINTON, MY JO, JOHN, [10243] WHY WON'T YOU WED A WIFE? [10244] [10245] [10246] He spluttered to the air: [10247] [10248] --O, the chinless Chinaman! Chin Chon Eg Lin Ton. We went over to their [10249] playbox, Haines and I, the plumbers' hall. Our players are creating a new [10250] art for Europe like the Greeks or M. Maeterlinck. Abbey Theatre! I smell [10251] the pubic sweat of monks. [10252] [10253] He spat blank. [10254] [10255] Forgot: any more than he forgot the whipping lousy Lucy gave him. [10256] And left the FEMME DE TRENTE ANS. And why no other children born? And his [10257] first child a girl? [10258] [10259] Afterwit. Go back. [10260] [10261] The dour recluse still there (he has his cake) and the douce youngling, [10262] minion of pleasure, Phedo's toyable fair hair. [10263] [10264] Eh ... I just eh ... wanted ... I forgot ... he ... [10265] [10266] --Longworth and M'Curdy Atkinson were there ... [10267] [10268] Puck Mulligan footed featly, trilling: [10269] [10270] I HARDLY HEAR THE PURLIEU CRY [10271] OR A TOMMY TALK AS I PASS ONE BY [10272] BEFORE MY THOUGHTS BEGIN TO RUN [10273] ON F. M'CURDY ATKINSON, [10274] THE SAME THAT HAD THE WOODEN LEG [10275] AND THAT FILIBUSTERING FILIBEG [10276] THAT NEVER DARED TO SLAKE HIS DROUTH, [10277] MAGEE THAT HAD THE CHINLESS MOUTH. [10278] BEING AFRAID TO MARRY ON EARTH [10279] THEY MASTURBATED FOR ALL THEY WERE WORTH. [10280] [10281] Jest on. Know thyself. [10282] [10283] Halted, below me, a quizzer looks at me. I halt. [10284] [10285] --Mournful mummer, Buck Mulligan moaned. Synge has left off wearing [10286] black to be like nature. Only crows, priests and English coal are black. [10287] [10288] A laugh tripped over his lips. [10289] [10290] --Longworth is awfully sick, he said, after what you wrote about that old [10291] hake Gregory. O you inquisitional drunken jewjesuit! She gets you a job on [10292] the paper and then you go and slate her drivel to Jaysus. Couldn't you do [10293] the Yeats touch? [10294] [10295] He went on and down, mopping, chanting with waving graceful arms: [10296] [10297] --The most beautiful book that has come out of our country in my time. [10298] One thinks of Homer. [10299] [10300] He stopped at the stairfoot. [10301] [10302] --I have conceived a play for the mummers, he said solemnly. [10303] [10304] The pillared Moorish hall, shadows entwined. Gone the nine men's [10305] morrice with caps of indices. [10306] [10307] In sweetly varying voices Buck Mulligan read his tablet: [10308] [10309] [10310] EVERYMAN HIS OWN WIFE [10311] OR [10312] A HONEYMOON IN THE HAND [10313] (A NATIONAL IMMORALITY IN THREE ORGASMS) [10314] BY [10315] BALLOCKY MULLIGAN [10316] [10317] [10318] He turned a happy patch's smirk to Stephen, saying: [10319] [10320] --The disguise, I fear, is thin. But listen. [10321] [10322] He read, MARCATO: [10323] [10324] --Characters: [10325] [10326] [10327] TODY TOSTOFF (a ruined Pole) [10328] CRAB (a bushranger) [10329] MEDICAL DICK ) [10330] and ) (two birds with one stone) [10331] MEDICAL DAVY ) [10332] MOTHER GROGAN (a watercarrier) [10333] FRESH NELLY [10334] and [10335] ROSALIE (the coalquay whore). [10336] [10337] [10338] He laughed, lolling a to and fro head, walking on, followed by Stephen: [10339] and mirthfully he told the shadows, souls of men: [10340] [10341] --O, the night in the Camden hall when the daughters of Erin had to lift [10342] their skirts to step over you as you lay in your mulberrycoloured, [10343] multicoloured, multitudinous vomit! [10344] [10345] --The most innocent son of Erin, Stephen said, for whom they ever lifted [10346] them. [10347] [10348] About to pass through the doorway, feeling one behind, he stood aside. [10349] [10350] Part. The moment is now. Where then? If Socrates leave his house [10351] today, if Judas go forth tonight. Why? That lies in space which I in time [10352] must come to, ineluctably. [10353] [10354] My will: his will that fronts me. Seas between. [10355] [10356] A man passed out between them, bowing, greeting. [10357] [10358] --Good day again, Buck Mulligan said. [10359] [10360] The portico. [10361] [10362] Here I watched the birds for augury. Aengus of the birds. They go, [10363] they come. Last night I flew. Easily flew. Men wondered. Street of harlots [10364] after. A creamfruit melon he held to me. In. You will see. [10365] [10366] --The wandering jew, Buck Mulligan whispered with clown's awe. Did you [10367] see his eye? He looked upon you to lust after you. I fear thee, ancient [10368] mariner. O, Kinch, thou art in peril. Get thee a breechpad. [10369] [10370] Manner of Oxenford. [10371] [10372] Day. Wheelbarrow sun over arch of bridge. [10373] [10374] A dark back went before them, step of a pard, down, out by the [10375] gateway, under portcullis barbs. [10376] [10377] They followed. [10378] [10379] Offend me still. Speak on. [10380] [10381] Kind air defined the coigns of houses in Kildare street. No birds. Frail [10382] from the housetops two plumes of smoke ascended, pluming, and in a flaw [10383] of softness softly were blown. [10384] [10385] Cease to strive. Peace of the druid priests of Cymbeline: hierophantic: [10386] from wide earth an altar. [10387] [10388] [10389] LAUD WE THE GODS [10390] AND LET OUR CROOKED SMOKES CLIMB TO THEIR NOSTRILS [10391] FROM OUR BLESS'D ALTARS. [10392] [10393] [10394]

Ulysses by James Joyce Scylla and Charybdis

Ulysses by James Joyce
Scylla and Charybdis