No More Learning

_(Several wellknown burgesses, city magnates and freemen of the city
shake hands with Bloom and congratulate him. Timothy Harrington, late
thrice Lord Mayor of Dublin, imposing in mayoral scarlet, gold chain and
white silk tie, confers with councillor Lorcan Sherlock, locum tenens.
They nod vigorously in agreement. )_

LATE LORD MAYOR HARRINGTON: _(In scarlet robe with mace, gold mayoral
chain and large white silk scarf)_ That alderman sir Leo Bloom's speech
be printed at the expense of the ratepayers. That the house in which
he was born be ornamented with a commemorative tablet and that the
thoroughfare hitherto known as Cow Parlour off Cork street be henceforth
designated Boulevard Bloom.

COUNCILLOR LORCAN SHERLOCK: Carried unanimously.

BLOOM: _(Impassionedly)_ These flying Dutchmen or lying Dutchmen as
they recline in their upholstered poop, casting dice, what reck they?
Machines is their cry, their chimera, their panacea. Laboursaving
apparatuses, supplanters, bugbears, manufactured monsters for mutual
murder, hideous hobgoblins produced by a horde of capitalistic lusts
upon our prostituted labour. The poor man starves while they are
grassing their royal mountain stags or shooting peasants and phartridges
in their purblind pomp of pelf and power. But their reign is rover for
rever and ever and ev. . .

_(Prolonged applause. Venetian masts, maypoles and festal arches spring
up. A streamer bearing the legends_ Cead Mile Failte _and_ Mah Ttob
Melek Israel _Spans the street. All the windows are thronged with
sightseers, chiefly ladies. Along the route the regiments of the
royal Dublin Fusiliers, the King's own Scottish Borderers, the Cameron
Highlanders and the Welsh Fusiliers standing to attention, keep back
the crowd. Boys from High school are perched on the lampposts,
telegraph poles, windowsills, cornices, gutters, chimneypots, railings,
rainspouts, whistling and cheering the pillar of the cloud appears. A
fife and drum band is heard in the distance playing the Kol Nidre. The
beaters approach with imperial eagles hoisted, trailing banners and
waving oriental palms. The chryselephantine papal standard rises high,
surrounded by pennons of the civic flag. The van of the procession
appears headed by John Howard Parnell, city marshal, in a chessboard
tabard, the Athlone Poursuivant and Ulster King of Arms. They are
followed by the Right Honourable Joseph Hutchinson, lord mayor of
Dublin, his lordship the lord mayor of Cork, their worships the
mayors of Limerick, Galway, Sligo and Waterford, twentyeight Irish
representative peers, sirdars, grandees and maharajahs bearing the cloth
of estate, the Dublin Metropolitan Fire Brigade, the chapter of the
saints of finance in their plutocratic order of precedence, the bishop
of Down and Connor, His Eminence Michael cardinal Logue, archbishop of
Armagh, primate of all Ireland, His Grace, the most reverend Dr William
Alexander, archbishop of Armagh, primate of all Ireland, the chief
rabbi, the presbyterian moderator, the heads of the baptist, anabaptist,
methodist and Moravian chapels and the honorary secretary of the society
of friends. After them march the guilds and trades and trainbands
with flying colours: coopers, bird fanciers, millwrights, newspaper
canvassers, law scriveners, masseurs, vintners, trussmakers,
chimneysweeps, lard refiners, tabinet and poplin weavers, farriers,
Italian warehousemen, church decorators, bootjack manufacturers,
undertakers, silk mercers, lapidaries, salesmasters, corkcutters,
assessors of fire losses, dyers and cleaners, export bottlers,
fellmongers, ticketwriters, heraldic seal engravers, horse repository
hands, bullion brokers, cricket and archery outfitters, riddlemakers,
egg and potato factors, hosiers and glovers, plumbing contractors. After
them march gentlemen of the bedchamber, Black Rod, Deputy Garter,
Gold Stick, the master of horse, the lord great chamberlain, the earl
marshal, the high constable carrying the sword of state, saint Stephen's
iron crown, the chalice and bible. Four buglers on foot blow a sennet.
Beefeaters reply, winding clarions of welcome. Under an arch of triumph
Bloom appears, bareheaded, in a crimson velvet mantle trimmed with
ermine, bearing Saint Edward's staff the orb and sceptre with the dove,
the curtana. He is seated on a milkwhite horse with long flowing crimson
tail, richly caparisoned, with golden headstall. Wild excitement. The
ladies from their balconies throw down rosepetals. The air is perfumed
with essences. The men cheer. Bloom's boys run amid the bystanders with
branches of hawthorn and wrenbushes. )_

BLOOM'S BOYS:

The wren, the wren,
The king of all birds,
Saint Stephen's his day
Was caught in the furze.


A BLACKSMITH: _(Murmurs)_ For the honour of God! And is that Bloom? He
scarcely looks thirtyone.

A PAVIOR AND FLAGGER: That's the famous Bloom now, the world's greatest
reformer. Hats off!

_(All uncover their heads. Women whisper eagerly. )_

A MILLIONAIRESS: _(Richly)_ Isn't he simply wonderful?

A NOBLEWOMAN: _(Nobly)_ All that man has seen!

A FEMINIST: _(Masculinely)_ And done!

A BELLHANGER: A classic face! He has the forehead of a thinker.

_(Bloom's weather. A sunburst appears in the northwest. )_

THE BISHOP OF DOWN AND CONNOR: I here present your undoubted
emperor-president and king-chairman, the most serene and potent and very
puissant ruler of this realm. God save Leopold the First!

ALL: God save Leopold the First!

BLOOM: _(In dalmatic and purple mantle, to the bishop of Down and
Connor, with dignity)_ Thanks, somewhat eminent sir.

WILLIAM, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH: _(In purple stock and shovel hat)_
Will you to your power cause law and mercy to be executed in all your
judgments in Ireland and territories thereunto belonging?

BLOOM: _(Placing his right hand on his testicles, swears)_ So may the
Creator deal with me. All this I promise to do.

MICHAEL, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH: _(Pours a cruse of hairoil over Bloom's
head) Gaudium magnum annuntio vobis. Habemus carneficem. _ Leopold,
Patrick, Andrew, David, George, be thou anointed!

_(Bloom assumes a mantle of cloth of gold and puts on a ruby ring. He
ascends and stands on the stone of destiny. The representative peers put
on at the same time their twentyeight crowns. Joybells ring in Christ
church, Saint Patrick's, George's and gay Malahide. Mirus bazaar
fireworks go up from all sides with symbolical phallopyrotechnic
designs. The peers do homage, one by one, approaching and
genuflecting. )_

THE PEERS: I do become your liege man of life and limb to earthly
worship.

_(Bloom holds up his right hand on which sparkles the Koh-i-Noor
diamond. His palfrey neighs. Immediate silence. Wireless
intercontinental and interplanetary transmitters are set for reception
of message. )_

BLOOM: My subjects! We hereby nominate our faithful charger Copula Felix
hereditary Grand Vizier and announce that we have this day repudiated
our former spouse and have bestowed our royal hand upon the princess
Selene, the splendour of night.

_(The former morganatic spouse of Bloom is hastily removed in the Black
Maria. The princess Selene, in moonblue robes, a silver crescent on her
head, descends from a Sedan chair, borne by two giants. An outburst of
cheering. )_

JOHN HOWARD PARNELL: _(Raises the royal standard)_ Illustrious Bloom!
Successor to my famous brother!

BLOOM: _(Embraces John Howard Parnell)_ We thank you from our heart,
John, for this right royal welcome to green Erin, the promised land of
our common ancestors.

_(The freedom of the city is presented to him embodied in a charter. The
keys of Dublin, crossed on a crimson cushion, are given to him. He shows
all that he is wearing green socks. )_

TOM KERNAN: You deserve it, your honour.

BLOOM: On this day twenty years ago we overcame the hereditary enemy at
Ladysmith. Our howitzers and camel swivel guns played on his lines with
telling effect. Half a league onward! They charge! All is lost now! Do
we yield? No! We drive them headlong! Lo! We charge! Deploying to the
left our light horse swept across the heights of Plevna and, uttering
their warcry _Bonafide Sabaoth_, sabred the Saracen gunners to a man.

THE CHAPEL OF FREEMAN TYPESETTERS: Hear! Hear!

JOHN WYSE NOLAN: There's the man that got away James Stephens.

A BLUECOAT SCHOOLBOY: Bravo!

AN OLD RESIDENT: You're a credit to your country, sir, that's what you
are.

AN APPLEWOMAN: He's a man like Ireland wants.

BLOOM: My beloved subjects, a new era is about to dawn. I, Bloom, tell
you verily it is even now at hand. Yea, on the word of a Bloom, ye shall
ere long enter into the golden city which is to be, the new Bloomusalem
in the Nova Hibernia of the future.

_(Thirtytwo workmen, wearing rosettes, from all the counties of Ireland,
under the guidance of Derwan the builder, construct the new Bloomusalem.
It is a colossal edifice with crystal roof, built in the shape of a
huge pork kidney, containing forty thousand rooms. In the course of its
extension several buildings and monuments are demolished. Government
offices are temporarily transferred to railway sheds. Numerous houses
are razed to the ground. The inhabitants are lodged in barrels and
boxes, all marked in red with the letters: L. B. several paupers
fill from a ladder. A part of the walls of Dublin, crowded with loyal
sightseers, collapses. )_

THE SIGHTSEERS: _(Dying) Morituri te salutant. (They die)_

_(A man in a brown macintosh springs up through a trapdoor. He points an
elongated finger at Bloom. )_

THE MAN IN THE MACINTOSH: Don't you believe a word he says. That man is
Leopold M'Intosh, the notorious fireraiser. His real name is Higgins.

BLOOM: Shoot him! Dog of a christian! So much for M'Intosh!

_(A cannonshot. The man in the macintosh disappears. Bloom with his
sceptre strikes down poppies. The instantaneous deaths of many
powerful enemies, graziers, members of parliament, members of standing
committees, are reported. Bloom's bodyguard distribute Maundy money,
commemoration medals, loaves and fishes, temperance badges, expensive
Henry Clay cigars, free cowbones for soup, rubber preservatives in
sealed envelopes tied with gold thread, butter scotch, pineapple rock,_
billets doux _in the form of cocked hats, readymade suits, porringers
of toad in the hole, bottles of Jeyes' Fluid, purchase stamps, 40 days'
indulgences, spurious coins, dairyfed pork sausages, theatre passes,
season tickets available for all tramlines, coupons of the royal and
privileged Hungarian lottery, penny dinner counters, cheap reprints of
the World's Twelve Worst Books: Froggy And Fritz (politic), Care of the
Baby (infantilic), 50 Meals for 7/6 (culinic), Was Jesus a Sun Myth?
(historic), Expel that Pain (medic), Infant's Compendium of the
Universe (cosmic), Let's All Chortle (hilaric), Canvasser's Vade Mecum
(journalic), Loveletters of Mother Assistant (erotic), Who's Who in
Space (astric), Songs that Reached Our Heart (melodic), Pennywise's Way
to Wealth (parsimonic). A general rush and scramble. Women press forward
to touch the hem of Bloom's robe. The Lady Gwendolen Dubedat bursts
through the throng, leaps on his horse and kisses him on both cheeks
amid great acclamation. A magnesium flashlight photograph is taken.
Babes and sucklings are held up. )_

THE WOMEN: Little father! Little father!

THE BABES AND SUCKLINGS:

Clap clap hands till Poldy comes home,
Cakes in his pocket for Leo alone.


_(Bloom, bending down, pokes Baby Boardman gently in the stomach. )_

BABY BOARDMAN: _(Hiccups, curdled milk flowing from his mouth)_
Hajajaja.

BLOOM: _(Shaking hands with a blind stripling)_ My more than Brother!
_(Placing his arms round the shoulders of an old couple)_ Dear old
friends! _(He plays pussy fourcorners with ragged boys and girls)_
Peep! Bopeep! _(He wheels twins in a perambulator)_ Ticktacktwo
wouldyousetashoe? _(He performs juggler's tricks, draws red, orange,
yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet silk handkerchiefs from his
mouth)_ Roygbiv. 32 feet per second. _(He consoles a widow)_ Absence
makes the heart grow younger. _(He dances the Highland fling with
grotesque antics)_ Leg it, ye devils! _(He kisses the bedsores of a
palsied veteran_) Honourable wounds! _(He trips up a fit policeman)_
U. p: up. U. p: up. _(He whispers in the ear of a blushing waitress and
laughs kindly)_ Ah, naughty, naughty! _(He eats a raw turnip offered
him by Maurice Butterly, farmer)_ Fine! Splendid! _(He refuses to
accept three shillings offered him by Joseph Hynes, journalist)_ My dear
fellow, not at all! (He gives his coat to a beggar) Please accept. _(He
takes part in a stomach race with elderly male and female cripples)_
Come on, boys! Wriggle it, girls!

THE CITIZEN: _(Choked with emotion, brushes aside a tear in his emerald
muffler)_ May the good God bless him!

_(The rams' horns sound for silence. The standard of Zion is hoisted. )_

BLOOM: _(Uncloaks impressively, revealing obesity, unrolls a paper and
reads solemnly)_ Aleph Beth Ghimel Daleth Hagadah Tephilim Kosher Yom
Kippur Hanukah Roschaschana Beni Brith Bar Mitzvah Mazzoth Askenazim
Meshuggah Talith.

_(An official translation is read by Jimmy Henry, assistant town
clerk. )_

JIMMY HENRY: The Court of Conscience is now open. His Most Catholic
Majesty will now administer open air justice. Free medical and legal
advice, solution of doubles and other problems. All cordially invited.
Given at this our loyal city of Dublin in the year I of the Paradisiacal
Era.

PADDY LEONARD: What am I to do about my rates and taxes?

BLOOM: Pay them, my friend.

PADDY LEONARD: Thank you.

NOSEY FLYNN: Can I raise a mortgage on my fire insurance?

BLOOM: _(Obdurately)_ Sirs, take notice that by the law of torts you are
bound over in your own recognisances for six months in the sum of five
pounds.

J. J. O'MOLLOY: A Daniel did I say? Nay! A Peter O'Brien!

NOSEY FLYNN: Where do I draw the five pounds?

PISSER BURKE: For bladder trouble?

BLOOM:

_Acid. nit. hydrochlor. dil. ,_ 20 minims
_Tinct. nux vom. ,_ 5 minims
_Extr. taraxel. iiq. ,_ 30 minims.
_Aq. dis. ter in die. _

CHRIS CALLINAN: What is the parallax of the subsolar ecliptic of
Aldebaran?

BLOOM: Pleased to hear from you, Chris. K. II.

JOE HYNES: Why aren't you in uniform?

BLOOM: When my progenitor of sainted memory wore the uniform of the
Austrian despot in a dank prison where was yours?

BEN DOLLARD: Pansies?
BLOOM: Embellish (beautify) suburban gardens.

BEN DOLLARD: When twins arrive?

BLOOM: Father (pater, dad) starts thinking.

LARRY O'ROURKE: An eightday licence for my new premises. You remember
me, sir Leo, when you were in number seven. I'm sending around a dozen
of stout for the missus.

BLOOM: _(Coldly)_ You have the advantage of me. Lady Bloom accepts no
presents.

CROFTON: This is indeed a festivity.

BLOOM: _(Solemnly)_ You call it a festivity. I call it a sacrament.

ALEXANDER KEYES: When will we have our own house of keys?

BLOOM: I stand for the reform of municipal morals and the plain ten
commandments. New worlds for old. Union of all, jew, moslem and gentile.
Three acres and a cow for all children of nature. Saloon motor hearses.
Compulsory manual labour for all. All parks open to the public day and
night. Electric dishscrubbers. Tuberculosis, lunacy, war and mendicancy
must now cease. General amnesty, weekly carnival with masked licence,
bonuses for all, esperanto the universal language with universal
brotherhood. No more patriotism of barspongers and dropsical impostors.
Free money, free rent, free love and a free lay church in a free lay
state.

O'MADDEN BURKE: Free fox in a free henroost.

DAVY BYRNE: _(Yawning)_ Iiiiiiiiiaaaaaaach!

BLOOM: Mixed races and mixed marriage.

LENEHAN: What about mixed bathing?

_(bloom explains to those near him his schemes for social regeneration.
All agree with him. The keeper of the Kildare Street Museum appears,
dragging a lorry on which are the shaking statues of several naked
goddesses, Venus Callipyge, Venus Pandemos, Venus Metempsychosis, and
plaster figures, also naked, representing the new nine muses, Commerce,
Operatic Music, Amor, Publicity, Manufacture, Liberty of Speech, Plural
Voting, Gastronomy, Private Hygiene, Seaside Concert Entertainments,
Painless Obstetrics and Astronomy for the People. )_

FATHER FARLEY: He is an episcopalian, an agnostic, an anythingarian
seeking to overthrow our holy faith.

MRS RIORDAN: _(Tears up her will)_ I'm disappointed in you! You bad man!

MOTHER GROGAN: _(Removes her boot to throw it at Bloom)_ You beast! You
abominable person!

NOSEY FLYNN: Give us a tune, Bloom. One of the old sweet songs.

BLOOM: _(With rollicking humour)_

I vowed that I never would leave her,
She turned out a cruel deceiver.
With my tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom.

HOPPY HOLOHAN: Good old Bloom! There's nobody like him after all.

PADDY LEONARD: Stage Irishman!

BLOOM: What railway opera is like a tramline in Gibraltar? The Rows of
Casteele. _(Laughter. )_

LENEHAN: Plagiarist! Down with Bloom!

THE VEILED SIBYL: _(Enthusiastically)_ I'm a Bloomite and I glory in it.
I believe in him in spite of all. I'd give my life for him, the funniest
man on earth.

BLOOM: _(Winks at the bystanders)_ I bet she's a bonny lassie.

THEODORE PUREFOY: _(In fishingcap and oilskin jacket)_ He employs a
mechanical device to frustrate the sacred ends of nature.

THE VEILED SIBYL: _(Stabs herself)_ My hero god! _(She dies)_

_(Many most attractive and enthusiastic women also commit suicide by
stabbing, drowning, drinking prussic acid, aconite, arsenic, opening
their veins, refusing food, casting themselves under steamrollers, from
the top of Nelson's Pillar, into the great vat of Guinness's brewery,
asphyxiating themselves by placing their heads in gasovens, hanging
themselves in stylish garters, leaping from windows of different
storeys. )_

ALEXANDER J DOWIE: _(Violently)_ Fellowchristians and antiBloomites, the
man called Bloom is from the roots of hell, a disgrace to christian
men. A fiendish libertine from his earliest years this stinking goat
of Mendes gave precocious signs of infantile debauchery, recalling the
cities of the plain, with a dissolute granddam. This vile hypocrite,
bronzed with infamy, is the white bull mentioned in the Apocalypse.
A worshipper of the Scarlet Woman, intrigue is the very breath of his
nostrils. The stake faggots and the caldron of boiling oil are for him.
Caliban!

THE MOB: Lynch him! Roast him! He's as bad as Parnell was. Mr Fox!

_(Mother Grogan throws her boot at Bloom. Several shopkeepers from upper
and lower Dorset street throw objects of little or no commercial value,
hambones, condensed milk tins, unsaleable cabbage, stale bread, sheep's
tails, odd pieces of fat. )_

BLOOM: _(Excitedly)_ This is midsummer madness, some ghastly joke again.
By heaven, I am guiltless as the unsunned snow! It was my brother Henry.
He is my double. He lives in number 2 Dolphin's Barn. Slander, the
viper, has wrongfully accused me. Fellowcountrymen, _sgenl inn ban bata
coisde gan capall. _ I call on my old friend, Dr Malachi Mulligan, sex
specialist, to give medical testimony on my behalf.

DR MULLIGAN: _(In motor jerkin, green motorgoggles on his brow)_ Dr
Bloom is bisexually abnormal. He has recently escaped from Dr Eustace's
private asylum for demented gentlemen. Born out of bedlock hereditary
epilepsy is present, the consequence of unbridled lust. Traces of
elephantiasis have been discovered among his ascendants. There are
marked symptoms of chronic exhibitionism. Ambidexterity is also
latent. He is prematurely bald from selfabuse, perversely idealistic in
consequence, a reformed rake, and has metal teeth. In consequence of a
family complex he has temporarily lost his memory and I believe him
to be more sinned against than sinning. I have made a pervaginal
examination and, after application of the acid test to 5427 anal,
axillary, pectoral and pubic hairs, I declare him to be _virgo intacta. _

_(Bloom holds his high grade hat over his genital organs. )_

DR MADDEN: Hypsospadia is also marked. In the interest of coming
generations I suggest that the parts affected should be preserved in
spirits of wine in the national teratological museum.

DR CROTTHERS: I have examined the patient's urine. It is albuminoid.
Salivation is insufficient, the patellar reflex intermittent.

DR PUNCH COSTELLO: The _fetor judaicus_ is most perceptible.

DR DIXON: _(Reads a bill of health)_ Professor Bloom is a finished
example of the new womanly man. His moral nature is simple and lovable.
Many have found him a dear man, a dear person. He is a rather quaint
fellow on the whole, coy though not feebleminded in the medical sense.
He has written a really beautiful letter, a poem in itself, to the court
missionary of the Reformed Priests' Protection Society which clears up
everything. He is practically a total abstainer and I can affirm that
he sleeps on a straw litter and eats the most Spartan food, cold dried
grocer's peas. He wears a hairshirt of pure Irish manufacture winter and
summer and scourges himself every Saturday. He was, I understand, at one
time a firstclass misdemeanant in Glencree reformatory. Another report
states that he was a very posthumous child. I appeal for clemency in the
name of the most sacred word our vocal organs have ever been called upon
to speak. He is about to have a baby.

_(General commotion and compassion. Women faint. A wealthy American
makes a street collection for Bloom. Gold and silver coins, blank
cheques, banknotes, jewels, treasury bonds, maturing bills of exchange,
I. O. U's, wedding rings, watchchains, lockets, necklaces and bracelets
are rapidly collected. )_

BLOOM: O, I so want to be a mother.

MRS THORNTON: _(In nursetender's gown)_ Embrace me tight, dear. You'll
be soon over it. Tight, dear.

_(Bloom embraces her tightly and bears eight male yellow and white
children. They appear on a redcarpeted staircase adorned with expensive
plants. All the octuplets are handsome, with valuable metallic faces,
wellmade, respectably dressed and wellconducted, speaking five modern
languages fluently and interested in various arts and sciences. Each
has his name printed in legible letters on his shirtfront: Nasodoro,
Goldfinger, Chrysostomos, Maindoree, Silversmile, Silberselber,
Vifargent, Panargyros. They are immediately appointed to positions of
high public trust in several different countries as managing directors
of banks, traffic managers of railways, chairmen of limited liability
companies, vicechairmen of hotel syndicates. )_

A VOICE: Bloom, are you the Messiah ben Joseph or ben David?

BLOOM: _(Darkly)_ You have said it.

BROTHER BUZZ: Then perform a miracle like Father Charles.

BANTAM LYONS: Prophesy who will win the Saint Leger.

_(Bloom walks on a net, covers his left eye with his left ear, passes
through several walls, climbs Nelson's Pillar, hangs from the top ledge
by his eyelids, eats twelve dozen oysters (shells included), heals
several sufferers from king's evil, contracts his face so as to resemble
many historical personages, Lord Beaconsfield, Lord Byron, Wat Tyler,
Moses of Egypt, Moses Maimonides, Moses Mendelssohn, Henry Irving, Rip
van Winkle, Kossuth, Jean Jacques Rousseau, Baron Leopold Rothschild,
Robinson Crusoe, Sherlock Holmes, Pasteur, turns each foot
simultaneously in different directions, bids the tide turn back,
eclipses the sun by extending his little finger. )_

BRINI, PAPAL NUNCIO: _(In papal zouave's uniform, steel cuirasses as
breastplate, armplates, thighplates, legplates, large profane moustaches
and brown paper mitre) Leopoldi autem generatio. _ Moses begat Noah
and Noah begat Eunuch and Eunuch begat O'Halloran and O'Halloran begat
Guggenheim and Guggenheim begat Agendath and Agendath begat Netaim and
Netaim begat Le Hirsch and Le Hirsch begat Jesurum and Jesurum begat
MacKay and MacKay begat Ostrolopsky and Ostrolopsky begat Smerdoz
and Smerdoz begat Weiss and Weiss begat Schwarz and Schwarz begat
Adrianopoli and Adrianopoli begat Aranjuez and Aranjuez begat Lewy
Lawson and Lewy Lawson begat Ichabudonosor and Ichabudonosor begat
O'Donnell Magnus and O'Donnell Magnus begat Christbaum and Christbaum
begat ben Maimun and ben Maimun begat Dusty Rhodes and Dusty Rhodes
begat Benamor and Benamor begat Jones-Smith and Jones-Smith begat
Savorgnanovich and Savorgnanovich begat Jasperstone and Jasperstone
begat Vingtetunieme and Vingtetunieme begat Szombathely and Szombathely
begat Virag and Virag begat Bloom _et vocabitur nomen eius Emmanuel. _

A DEADHAND: _(Writes on the wall)_ Bloom is a cod.

CRAB: _(In bushranger's kit)_ What did you do in the cattlecreep behind
Kilbarrack?

A FEMALE INFANT: _(Shakes a rattle)_ And under Ballybough bridge?

A HOLLYBUSH: And in the devil's glen?

BLOOM: _(Blushes furiously all over from frons to nates, three tears
filling from his left eye)_ Spare my past.

THE IRISH EVICTED TENANTS: _(In bodycoats, kneebreeches, with Donnybrook
fair shillelaghs)_ Sjambok him!

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

THE ARTANE ORPHANS:

You hig, you hog, you dirty dog!
You think the ladies love you!
THE PRISON GATE GIRLS:


If you see Kay
Tell him he may
See you in tea
Tell him from me.

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

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

MASTIANSKY AND CITRON: Belial! Laemlein of Istria, the false Messiah!
Abulafia! Recant!

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

MESIAS: To alteration one pair trousers eleven shillings.

BLOOM: _(Rubs his hands cheerfully)_ Just like old times. Poor Bloom!

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

REUBEN J: _(Whispers hoarsely)_ The squeak is out. A split is gone for
the flatties. Nip the first rattler.

THE FIRE BRIGADE: Pflaap!

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

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

THE CITIZEN: Thank heaven!

BLOOM: _(In a seamless garment marked I. H. S. stands upright amid
phoenix flames)_ Weep not for me, O daughters of Erin.

_(He exhibits to Dublin reporters traces of burning. The daughters of
Erin, in black garments, with large prayerbooks and long lighted candles
in their hands, kneel down and pray. )_

THE DAUGHTERS OF ERIN:

Kidney of Bloom, pray for us
Flower of the Bath, pray for us
Mentor of Menton, pray for us
Canvasser for the Freeman, pray for us
Charitable Mason, pray for us
Wandering Soap, pray for us
Sweets of Sin, pray for us
Music without Words, pray for us
Reprover of the Citizen, pray for us
Friend of all Frillies, pray for us
Midwife Most Merciful, pray for us
Potato Preservative against Plague and Pestilence, pray for us.

_(A choir of six hundred voices, conducted by Vincent O'brien, sings
the chorus from Handel's Messiah alleluia for the lord god omnipotent
reigneth, accompanied on the organ by Joseph Glynn. Bloom becomes mute,
shrunken, carbonised. )_


ZOE: Talk away till you're black in the face.

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

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

BLOOM: _(Bitterly)_ Man and woman, love, what is it? A cork and bottle.
I'm sick of it. Let everything rip.

ZOE: _(In sudden sulks)_ I hate a rotter that's insincere. Give a
bleeding whore a chance.

BLOOM: _(Repentantly)_ I am very disagreeable. You are a necessary evil.
Where are you from? London?

ZOE: _(Glibly)_ Hog's Norton where the pigs plays the organs.