u09_scylla.xml

<div type="episode" n="09">
<p><lb n="090001"/>Urbane, to comfort them, the quaker librarian purred:
<lb n="090002"/><said who="tl">―And we have, have we not, those priceless pages of <title type="book">Wilhelm Meister</title>. A
<lb n="090003"/>great poet on a great brother poet. A hesitating soul taking arms against a
<lb n="090004"/>sea of troubles, torn by conflicting doubts, as one sees in real life.</said></p>
  <p><lb n="090005"/>He came a step a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">sinkapace</distinct> forward on neatsleather creaking and a
    <lb n="090006"/>step backward a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">sinkapace</distinct> on the solemn floor.</p>
<p><lb n="090007"/>A noiseless attendant setting open the door but slightly made him a
<lb n="090008"/>noiseless beck.
<lb n="090009"/><said who="tl">―Directly,</said> said he, creaking to go, albeit lingering. <said who="tl">The beautiful
<lb n="090010"/>ineffectual dreamer who comes to grief against hard facts. One always feels
<lb n="090011"/>that Goethe's judgments are so true. True in the larger analysis.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090012"/><distinct type="Joycean">Twicreakingly</distinct> analysis he <distinct type="archaism">corantoed</distinct> off. Bald, most zealous by the
<lb n="090013"/>door he gave his large ear all to the attendant's words: heard them: and was
<lb n="090014"/>gone.</p>
<p><lb n="090015"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Two left.</said>
<lb n="090016"/><said who="sd">―Monsieur de la Palice,</said> Stephen sneered, <said who="sd">was alive fifteen minutes before
<lb n="090017"/>his death.</said>
<lb n="090018"/><said who="je">―Have you found those six brave medicals,</said> John Eglinton asked with
<lb n="090019"/>elder's gall, <said who="je">to write <title type="poem">Paradise Lost</title> at your dictation? <title type="poem">The Sorrows of Satan</title>
<lb n="090020"/>he calls it.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090021"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Smile. Smile Cranly's smile.</said></p>
<lg rend="italics"><lb n="090022"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><l>First he tickled her</l>
<lb n="090023"/><l>Then he patted her</l>
<lb n="090024"/><l>Then he passed the female catheter</l>
<lb n="090025"/><l>For he was a medical</l>
<lb n="090026"/><l>Jolly old medi .....</l></said></lg>
<p><lb n="090027"/><said who="je">―I feel you would need one more for <title type="play">Hamlet</title>. Seven is dear to the mystic
<lb n="090028"/>mind. The shining seven WB calls them.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090029"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Glittereyed</distinct> his rufous skull close to his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">greencapped</distinct> <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">desklamp</distinct> sought
<lb n="090030"/>the face bearded amid <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">darkgreener</distinct> shadow, an <distinct type="dialect">ollav</distinct>, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">holyeyed</distinct>. He laughed
<lb n="090031"/>low: a sizar's laugh of Trinity: unanswered.</p>
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="090032"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><l>Orchestral Satan, weeping many a rood</l>
<lb n="090033"/><l>Tears such as angels weep.</l></said></lg></quote>
<quote xml:lang="it"><lg rend="italics"><lb n="090034"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><l>Ed egli avea del cul fatto trombetta.</l></said></lg></quote>
<p><lb n="090035"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">He holds my follies hostage.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090036"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Cranly's eleven true Wicklowmen to free their <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">sireland</distinct>. <distinct type="compound">Gaptoothed</distinct>
<lb n="090037"/>Kathleen, her four beautiful green fields, the stranger in her house. And one
<lb n="090038"/>more to hail him: <foreign xml:lang="la">ave, rabbi</foreign>: the Tinahely twelve. In the shadow of the glen
  <lb n="090039"/>he <distinct type="dialect">cooees</distinct> for them. My soul's youth I gave him, night by night. God speed.
<lb n="090040"/>Good hunting.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090041"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Mulligan has my telegram.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090042"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Folly. Persist.</said>
<lb n="090043"/><said who="je">―Our young Irish bards,</said> John Eglinton censured, <said who="je">have yet to create a
<lb n="090044"/>figure which the world will set beside Saxon Shakespeare's Hamlet though
<lb n="090045"/>I admire him, as old Ben did, on this side idolatry.</said>
<lb n="090046"/><said who="ae">―All these questions are purely academic,</said> Russell oracled out of his
<lb n="090047"/>shadow. <said who="ae">I mean, whether Hamlet is Shakespeare or James I or Essex.
<lb n="090048"/>Clergymen's discussions of the historicity of Jesus. Art has to reveal to us
<lb n="090049"/>ideas, formless spiritual essences. The supreme question about a work of art
<lb n="090050"/>is out of how deep a life does it spring. The painting of Gustave Moreau is
<lb n="090051"/>the painting of ideas. The deepest poetry of Shelley, the words of Hamlet
<lb n="090052"/>bring our minds into contact with the eternal wisdom, Plato's world of
<lb n="090053"/>ideas. All the rest is the speculation of schoolboys for schoolboys.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090054"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">A. E. has been telling some yankee interviewer. Wall, tarnation strike
<lb n="090055"/>me!</said>
<lb n="090056"/><said who="sd">―The schoolmen were schoolboys first,</said> Stephen said <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">superpolitely</distinct>.
<said who="sd"><lb n="090057"/>Aristotle was once Plato's schoolboy.</said>
<lb n="090058"/><said who="je">―And has remained so, one should hope,</said> John Eglinton sedately said. <said who="je">One
<lb n="090059"/>can see him, a model schoolboy with his diploma under his arm.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090060"/>He laughed again at the now smiling bearded face.</p>
<p><lb n="090061"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Formless spiritual. Father, Word and Holy Breath. <distinct type="compound">Allfather</distinct>, the
<lb n="090062"/>heavenly man. Hiesos Kristos, magician of the beautiful, the Logos who
<lb n="090063"/>suffers in us at every moment. This verily is that. I am the fire upon the
<lb n="090064"/>altar. I am the sacrificial butter.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090065"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Dunlop, Judge, the noblest Roman of them all, A. E., Arval, the Name
  <lb n="090066"/>Ineffable, in heaven <distinct type="archaism">hight</distinct>: K. H., their master, whose identity is no secret to
<lb n="090067"/>adepts. Brothers of the great white lodge always watching to see if they can
<lb n="090068"/>help. The Christ with the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">bridesister</distinct>, moisture of light, born of an ensouled
<lb n="090069"/>virgin, repentant sophia, departed to the plane of buddhi. The life esoteric is
<lb n="090070"/>not for ordinary person. O. P. must work off bad karma first. Mrs Cooper
<lb n="090071"/>Oakley once glimpsed our very illustrious sister H. P. B.'s elemental.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090072"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">O, fie! Out <distinct type="archaism">on't</distinct>! <foreign xml:lang="de">Pfuiteufel!</foreign> You <distinct type="Joycean">naughtn't</distinct> to look, missus, so you
  <lb n="090073"/><distinct type="Joycean">naughtn't</distinct> when a lady's <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">ashowing</distinct> of her elemental.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090074"/>Mr Best entered, tall, young, mild, light. He bore in his hand with
<lb n="090075"/>grace a notebook, new, large, clean, bright.
<lb n="090076"/><said who="sd">―That model schoolboy,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">would find Hamlet's musings about
<lb n="090077"/>the afterlife of his princely soul, the improbable, insignificant and
<lb n="090078"/>undramatic monologue, as shallow as Plato's.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090079"/>John Eglinton, frowning, said, waxing wroth:
<lb n="090080"/><said who="je">―Upon my word it makes my blood boil to hear anyone compare Aristotle
<lb n="090081"/>with Plato.</said>
<lb n="090082"/><said who="sd">―Which of the two,</said> Stephen asked, <said who="sd">would have banished me from his
<lb n="090083"/>commonwealth?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090084"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Unsheathe your dagger definitions. Horseness is the whatness of
<lb n="090085"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">allhorse</distinct>. Streams of tendency and eons they worship. God: noise in the
<lb n="090086"/>street: very peripatetic. Space: what you damn well have to see. Through
<lb n="090087"/>spaces smaller than red globules of man's blood they <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">creepycrawl</distinct> after
<lb n="090088"/>Blake's buttocks into eternity of which this vegetable world is but a shadow.
<lb n="090089"/>Hold to the now, the here, through which all future plunges to the past.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090090"/>Mr Best came forward, amiable, towards his colleague.
<lb n="090091"/><said who="rib">―Haines is gone,</said> he said.
<lb n="090092"/><said who="je">―Is he?</said>
<lb n="090093"/><said who="rib">―I was showing him Jubainville's book. He's quite enthusiastic, don't you
<lb n="090094"/>know, about Hyde's <title type="book">Lovesongs of Connacht</title>. I couldn't bring him in to
<lb n="090095"/>hear the discussion. He's gone to Gill's to buy it.</said></p>
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="090096"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><l>Bound thee forth, my booklet, quick</l>
<lb n="090097"/><l>To greet the callous public,</l>
<lb n="090098"/><l>Writ, I ween, 'twas not my wish</l>
<lb n="090099"/><l>In lean unlovely English.</l></said></lg></quote>
  <p><lb n="090100"/><said who="je">―The <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">peatsmoke</distinct> is going to his head,</said> John Eglinton opined.</p>
<p><lb n="090101"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">We feel in England. Penitent thief. Gone. I smoked his <distinct type="dialect">baccy</distinct>. Green
<lb n="090102"/>twinkling stone. An emerald set in the ring of the sea.</said>
<lb n="090103"/><said who="ae">―People do not know how dangerous <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">lovesongs</distinct> can be,</said> the auric egg of
<lb n="090104"/>Russell warned occultly. <said who="ae">The movements which work revolutions in the
<lb n="090105"/>world are born out of the dreams and visions in a peasant's heart on the
<lb n="090106"/>hillside. For them the earth is not an exploitable ground but the living
<lb n="090107"/>mother. The rarefied air of the academy and the arena produce the
  <lb n="090108"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">sixshilling</distinct> novel, the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">musichall</distinct> song. France produces the finest flower of
<lb n="090109"/>corruption in Mallarmé but the desirable life is revealed only to the poor of
<lb n="090110"/>heart, the life of Homer's Phaeacians.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090111"/>From these words Mr Best turned an unoffending face to Stephen.
<lb n="090112"/><said who="rib">―Mallarmé, don't you know,</said> he said, <said who="rib">has written those wonderful prose
<lb n="090113"/>poems Stephen MacKenna used to read to me in Paris. The one about
<lb n="090114"/><title type="play">Hamlet</title>. He says: <quote xml:lang="fr">il se promène, lisant au livre de lui-même</quote>, don't you
<lb n="090115"/>know, <quote>reading the book of himself</quote>. He describes <title type="play">Hamlet</title> given in a French
<lb n="090116"/>town, don't you know, a provincial town. They advertised it.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090117"/>His free hand graciously wrote tiny signs in air.</p>
<ab><title type="play" xml:lang="fr"><lg rend="italics"><lb n="090118"/><l>Hamlet</l>
<lb n="090119"/><l>ou</l>
<lb n="090120"/><l>Le Distrait</l>
<lb n="090121"/><l>Pièce de Shakespeare</l></lg></title></ab>
<p><lb n="090122"/>He repeated to John Eglinton's <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">newgathered</distinct> frown:
<lb n="090123"/><said who="rib">―<foreign xml:lang="fr">Pièce de Shakespeare</foreign>, don't you know. It's so French. The French point
<lb n="090124"/>of view. <foreign xml:lang="fr">Hamlet ou</foreign> ...</said>
<lb n="090125"/><said who="sd">―The absentminded beggar,</said> Stephen ended.</p>
<p><lb n="090126"/>John Eglinton laughed.
<lb n="090127"/><said who="je">―Yes, I suppose it would be,</said> he said. <said who="je">Excellent people, no doubt, but
<lb n="090128"/>distressingly shortsighted in some matters.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090129"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Sumptuous and stagnant exaggeration of murder.</said>
  <lb n="090130"/><said who="sd">―A <distinct type="archaism">deathsman</distinct> of the soul Robert Greene called him,</said> Stephen said. <said who="sd">Not for
<lb n="090131"/>nothing was he a butcher's son, wielding the sledded poleaxe and spitting in
<lb n="090132"/>his palms. Nine lives are taken off for his father's one. Our Father who art
<lb n="090133"/>in purgatory. Khaki Hamlets don't hesitate to shoot. The <distinct type="compound">bloodboltered</distinct>
<lb n="090134"/>shambles in act five is a forecast of the concentration camp sung by Mr
<lb n="090135"/>Swinburne.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090136"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Cranly, I his mute orderly, following battles from afar.</said></p>
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="090137"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><l>Whelps and dams of murderous foes whom none</l>
<lb n="090138"/><l>But we had spared ....</l></said></lg></quote>
<p><lb n="090139"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Between the Saxon smile and yankee yawp. The devil and the deep
<lb n="090140"/>sea.</said>
<lb n="090141"/><said who="je">―He will have it that <title type="play">Hamlet</title> is a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">ghoststory</distinct>,</said> John Eglinton said for Mr
  <lb n="090142"/>Best's <distinct type="archaism">behoof</distinct>. <said who="je">Like the fat boy in Pickwick he wants to make our flesh
<lb n="090143"/>creep.</said></p>
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="090144"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><l>List! List! O list!</l></said></lg></quote>
<p><lb n="090145"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">My flesh hears him: creeping, hears.</said></p>
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="090146"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><l>If thou didst ever ....</l></said></lg></quote>
<p><lb n="090147"/><said who="sd">―What is a ghost?</said> Stephen said with tingling energy. <said who="sd">One who has faded
<lb n="090148"/>into impalpability through death, through absence, through change of
<lb n="090149"/>manners. Elizabethan London lay as far from Stratford as corrupt Paris
<lb n="090150"/>lies from virgin Dublin. Who is the ghost from <foreign xml:lang="la">limbo patrum</foreign>, returning to
<lb n="090151"/>the world that has forgotten him? Who is King Hamlet?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090152"/>John Eglinton shifted his spare body, leaning back to judge.</p>
<p><lb n="090153"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Lifted.</said>
<lb n="090154"/><said who="sd">―It is this hour of a day in mid June,</said> Stephen said, begging with a swift
<lb n="090155"/>glance their hearing. <said who="sd">The flag is up on the playhouse by the bankside. The
<lb n="090156"/>bear Sackerson growls in the pit near it, Paris garden. <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Canvasclimbers</distinct> who
<lb n="090157"/>sailed with Drake chew their sausages among the groundlings.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090158"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Local colour. Work in all you know. Make them accomplices.</said>
<lb n="090159"/><said who="sd">―Shakespeare has left the huguenot's house in Silver street and walks by
  <lb n="090160"/>the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">swanmews</distinct> along the riverbank. But he does not stay to feed the pen
<lb n="090161"/>chivying her game of cygnets towards the rushes. The swan of Avon has
<lb n="090162"/>other thoughts.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090163"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Composition of place. Ignatius Loyola, make haste to help me!</said>
<lb n="090164"/><said who="sd">―The play begins. A player comes on under the shadow, made up in the
<lb n="090165"/>castoff mail of a court buck, a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">wellset</distinct> man with a bass voice. It is the ghost,
<lb n="090166"/>the king, a king and no king, and the player is Shakespeare who has studied
<lb n="090167"/><title type="play">Hamlet</title> all the years of his life which were not vanity in order to play the
<lb n="090168"/>part of the spectre. He speaks the words to Burbage, the young player who
<lb n="090169"/>stands before him beyond the rack of cerecloth, calling him by a name:
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="090170"/><l>Hamlet, I am thy father's spirit,</l></lg></quote>
<lb n="090171"/>bidding him list. To a son he speaks, the son of his soul, the prince, young
<lb n="090172"/>Hamlet and to the son of his body, Hamnet Shakespeare, who has died in
<lb n="090173"/>Stratford that his namesake may live for ever.
<lb n="090174"/>Is it possible that that player Shakespeare, a ghost by absence, and in the
<lb n="090175"/>vesture of buried Denmark, a ghost by death, speaking his own words to
<lb n="090176"/>his own son's name (had Hamnet Shakespeare lived he would have been
<lb n="090177"/>prince Hamlet's twin), is it possible, I want to know, or probable that he
<lb n="090178"/>did not draw or foresee the logical conclusion of those premises: you are
<lb n="090179"/>the dispossessed son: I am the murdered father: your mother is the
<lb n="090180"/>guilty queen, Ann Shakespeare, born Hathaway?</said>
<lb n="090181"/><said who="ae">―But this prying into the family life of a great man,</said> Russell began
<lb n="090182"/>impatiently.</p>
<p><lb n="090183"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Art thou there, truepenny?</said>
<lb n="090184"/><said who="ae">―Interesting only to the parish clerk. I mean, we have the plays. I mean
<lb n="090185"/>when we read the poetry of <title type="play">King Lear</title> what is it to us how the poet lived?
<lb n="090186"/>As for living our servants can do that for us, Villiers de l'Isle has said.
<lb n="090187"/>Peeping and prying into greenroom gossip of the day, the poet's drinking,
<lb n="090188"/>the poet's debts. We have <title type="play">King Lear</title>: and it is immortal.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090189"/>Mr Best's face, appealed to, agreed.</p>
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="090190"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><l>Flow over them with your waves and with your waters, Mananaan,</l>
<lb n="090191"/><l>Mananaan MacLir ....</l></said></lg></quote>
<p><lb n="090192"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">How now, sirrah, that pound he lent you when you were hungry?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090193"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Marry, I wanted it.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090194"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Take thou this noble.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090195"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Go to! You spent most of it in Georgina Johnson's bed, clergyman's
<lb n="090196"/>daughter. <ref xml:id="lb_090196">Agenbite of inwit.</ref></said></p>
<p><lb n="090197"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Do you intend to pay it back?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090198"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">O, yes.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090199"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">When? Now?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090200"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Well .... No.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090201"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">When, then?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090202"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">I paid my way. I paid my way.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090203"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Steady on. He's from <distinct type="dialect">beyant</distinct> Boyne water. The northeast corner. You
<lb n="090204"/>owe it.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090205"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Wait. Five months. Molecules all change. I am other I now. Other I
<lb n="090206"/>got pound.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090207"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Buzz. Buzz.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090208"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">But I, entelechy, form of forms, am I by memory because under
  <lb n="090209"/><distinct type="compound">everchanging</distinct> forms.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090210"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">I that sinned and prayed and fasted.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090211"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">A child Conmee saved from <distinct type="dialect">pandies</distinct>.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090212"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">I, I and I. I.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090213"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">A. E. I. O. U.</said>
<lb n="090214"/><said who="je">―Do you mean to fly in the face of the tradition of three centuries?</said> John
<lb n="090215"/>Eglinton's carping voice asked. <said who="je">Her ghost at least has been laid for ever.
<lb n="090216"/>She died, for literature at least, before she was born.</said>
<lb n="090217"/><said who="sd">―She died,</said> Stephen retorted, <said who="sd"><distinct type="compound">sixtyseven</distinct> years after she was born. She saw
<lb n="090218"/>him into and out of the world. She took his first embraces. She bore his
<lb n="090219"/>children and she laid pennies on his eyes to keep his eyelids closed when he
<lb n="090220"/>lay on his deathbed.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090221"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Mother's deathbed. Candle. The sheeted mirror. Who brought me
<lb n="090222"/>into this world lies there, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">bronzelidded</distinct>, under few cheap flowers. <quote xml:lang="la">Liliata
<lb n="090223"/>rutilantium.</quote></said></p>
<p><lb n="090224"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">I wept alone.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090225"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">John Eglinton looked in the tangled glowworm of his lamp.</said>
<lb n="090226"/><said who="je">―The world believes that Shakespeare made a mistake,</said> he said, <said who="je">and got out
<lb n="090227"/>of it as quickly and as best he could.</said>
<lb n="090228"/><said who="sd">―Bosh!</said> Stephen said rudely. <said who="sd">A man of genius makes no mistakes. His
<lb n="090229"/>errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090230"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Portals of discovery opened to let in the quaker librarian,
<lb n="090231"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">softcreakfooted</distinct>, bald, eared and assiduous.</said>
<lb n="090232"/><said who="je">―A shrew,</said> John Eglinton said shrewdly, <said who="je">is not a useful portal of discovery,
<lb n="090233"/>one should imagine. What useful discovery did Socrates learn from
<lb n="090234"/>Xanthippe?</said>
<lb n="090235"/><said who="sd">―Dialectic,</said> Stephen answered: <said who="sd">and from his mother how to bring thoughts
<lb n="090236"/>into the world. What he learnt from his other wife Myrto (<foreign xml:lang="la">absit nomen!</foreign>),
<lb n="090237"/>Socratididion's Epipsychidion, no man, not a woman, will ever know. But
<lb n="090238"/>neither the midwife's lore nor the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">caudlelectures</distinct> saved him from the
  <lb n="090239"/>archons of Sinn Fein and their <distinct type="dialect">naggin</distinct> of hemlock.</said>
<lb n="090240"/><said who="rib">―But Ann Hathaway?</said> Mr Best's quiet voice said forgetfully. <said who="rib">Yes, we seem
<lb n="090241"/>to be forgetting her as Shakespeare himself forgot her.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090242"/>His look went from brooder's beard to carper's skull, to remind, to
<lb n="090243"/>chide them not unkindly, then to the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">baldpink</distinct> lollard <distinct type="dialect">costard</distinct>, guiltless
<lb n="090244"/>though maligned.
<lb n="090245"/><said who="sd">―He had a good <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">groatsworth</distinct> of wit,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">and no truant memory.
<lb n="090246"/>He carried a memory in his wallet as he trudged to Romeville whistling <title type="song">The
<lb n="090247"/>Girl I left behind me</title>. If the earthquake did not time it we should know
<lb n="090248"/>where to place poor Wat, sitting in his form, the cry of hounds, the studded
<lb n="090249"/>bridle and her blue windows. That memory, <title type="play">Venus and Adonis</title>, lay in the
<lb n="090250"/>bedchamber of every light-of-love in London. Is Katharine the shrew
  <lb n="090251"/><distinct type="compound">illfavoured</distinct>? Hortensio calls her young and beautiful. Do you think the
<lb n="090252"/>writer of <title type="play">Antony and Cleopatra</title>, a passionate pilgrim, had his eyes in the
<lb n="090253"/>back of his head that he chose the ugliest doxy in all Warwickshire to lie
<lb n="090254"/>withal? Good: he left her and gained the world of men. But his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">boywomen</distinct>
<lb n="090255"/>are the women of a boy. Their life, thought, speech are lent them by males.
<lb n="090256"/>He chose badly? He was chosen, it seems to me. If others have their will
<lb n="090257"/>Ann hath a way. By cock, she was to blame. She put the <distinct type="dialect">comether</distinct> on him,
  <lb n="090258"/>sweet and <distinct type="compound">twentysix</distinct>. The <distinct type="compound">greyeyed</distinct> goddess who bends over the boy Adonis,
<lb n="090259"/>stooping to conquer, as prologue to the swelling act, is a boldfaced
<lb n="090260"/>Stratford wench who tumbles in a cornfield a lover younger than herself.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090261"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">And my turn? When?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090262"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Come!</said>
<lb n="090263"/><said who="rib">―Ryefield,</said> Mr Best said brightly, gladly, raising his new book, gladly,
<lb n="090264"/>brightly.</p>
<p><lb n="090265"/>He murmured then with blond delight for all:
<lb n="090266"/><said who="rib">―<quote>Between the acres of the rye
<lb n="090267"/>These pretty countryfolk would lie.</quote></said></p>
<p><lb n="090268"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Paris: the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">wellpleased</distinct> pleaser.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090269"/>A tall figure in bearded homespun rose from shadow and unveiled its
<lb n="090270"/>cooperative watch.
<lb n="090271"/><said who="ae">―I am afraid I am due at the <title type="newspaper">Homestead</title>.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090272"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Whither away? Exploitable ground.</said>
<lb n="090273"/><said who="je">―Are you going?</said> John Eglinton's active eyebrows asked. <said who="je">Shall we see you
<lb n="090274"/>at Moore's tonight? Piper is coming.</said>
<lb n="090275"/><said who="rib">―Piper!</said> Mr Best piped. <said who="rib">Is Piper back?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090276"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Peter Piper pecked a peck of pick of peck of pickled pepper.</said>
<lb n="090277"/><said who="ae">―I don't know if I can. Thursday. We have our meeting. If I can get away
<lb n="090278"/>in time.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090279"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><distinct type="Joycean">Yogibogeybox</distinct> in Dawson chambers. <title type="book">Isis Unveiled.</title> Their Pali book
<lb n="090280"/>we tried to pawn. <distinct type="compound">Crosslegged</distinct> under an <distinct type="archaism">umbrel</distinct> <distinct type="Joycean">umbershoot</distinct> he thrones an
<lb n="090281"/>Aztec logos, functioning on astral levels, their oversoul, mahamahatma. The
<lb n="090282"/>faithful hermetists await the light, ripe for chelaship, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">ringroundabout</distinct> him.
<lb n="090283"/>Louis H. Victory. T. Caulfield Irwin. Lotus ladies tend them i'the eyes, their
<lb n="090284"/>pineal glands aglow. Filled with his god, he thrones, Buddh under plantain.
<lb n="090285"/>Gulfer of souls, engulfer. <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Hesouls</distinct>, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">shesouls</distinct>, shoals of souls. Engulfed with
<lb n="090286"/>wailing <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">creecries</distinct>, whirled, whirling, they bewail.</said></p>
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="090287"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><l>In quintessential triviality</l>
<lb n="090288"/><l>For years in this <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">fleshcase</distinct> a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">shesoul</distinct> dwelt.</l></said></lg></quote>
<p><lb n="090289"/><said who="tl">―They say we are to have a literary surprise,</said> the quaker librarian said,
<lb n="090290"/>friendly and earnest. <said who="tl">Mr Russell, rumour has it, is gathering together a
<lb n="090291"/>sheaf of our younger poets' verses. We are all looking forward anxiously.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090292"/>Anxiously he glanced in the cone of lamplight where three faces,
<lb n="090293"/>lighted, shone.</p>
<p><lb n="090294"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">See this. Remember.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090295"/>Stephen looked down on a wide headless <distinct type="dialect">caubeen</distinct>, hung on his
<lb n="090296"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">ashplanthandle</distinct> over his knee. <said who="sd" aloud="false">My <distinct type="archaism">casque</distinct> and sword. Touch lightly with
<lb n="090297"/>two index fingers. Aristotle's experiment. One or two? Necessity is that in
<lb n="090298"/>virtue of which it is impossible that one can be otherwise. Argal, one hat is
<lb n="090299"/>one hat.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090300"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Listen.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090301"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Young Colum and Starkey. George Roberts is doing the commercial
<lb n="090302"/>part. Longworth will give it a good puff in the <title type="newspaper">Express</title>. O, will he? I liked
<lb n="090303"/>Colum's <title type="poem">Drover</title>. Yes, I think he has that queer thing genius. Do you think
<lb n="090304"/>he has genius really? Yeats admired his line: <quote>As in wild earth a Grecian
<lb n="090305"/>vase.</quote> Did he? I hope you'll be able to come tonight. Malachi Mulligan is
<lb n="090306"/>coming too. Moore asked him to bring Haines. Did you hear Miss
<lb n="090307"/>Mitchell's joke about Moore and Martyn? That Moore is Martyn's wild
<lb n="090308"/>oats? Awfully clever, isn't it? They remind one of Don Quixote and Sancho
<lb n="090309"/>Panza. Our national epic has yet to be written, Dr Sigerson says. Moore is
<lb n="090310"/>the man for it. A knight of the rueful countenance here in Dublin. With a
<lb n="090311"/>saffron kilt? O'Neill Russell? O, yes, he must speak the grand old tongue.
<lb n="090312"/>And his Dulcinea? James Stephens is doing some clever sketches. We are
<lb n="090313"/>becoming important, it seems.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090314"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Cordelia. <foreign xml:lang="it">Cordoglio.</foreign> Lir's loneliest daughter.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090315"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Nookshotten. Now your best French polish.</said>
<lb n="090316"/><said who="sd">―Thank you very much, Mr Russell,</said> Stephen said, rising. <said who="sd">If you will be so
<lb n="090317"/>kind as to give the letter to Mr Norman ...</said>
<lb n="090318"/><said who="ae">―O, yes. If he considers it important it will go in. We have so much
<lb n="090319"/>correspondence.</said>
<lb n="090320"/><said who="sd">―I understand,</said> Stephen said. <said who="sd">Thanks.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090321"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">God ild you. The pigs' paper. <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Bullockbefriending</distinct>.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090322"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Synge has promised me an article for <title type="magazine">Dana</title> too. Are we going to be
<lb n="090323"/>read? I feel we are. The Gaelic league wants something in Irish. I hope you
<lb n="090324"/>will come round tonight. Bring Starkey.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090325"/>Stephen sat down.</p>
<p><lb n="090326"/>The quaker librarian came from the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">leavetakers</distinct>. Blushing, his mask
<lb n="090327"/>said:
<lb n="090328"/><said who="tl">―Mr Dedalus, your views are most illuminating.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090329"/>He creaked to and fro, tiptoing up nearer heaven by the altitude of a
  <lb n="090330"/><distinct type="archaism">chopine</distinct>, and, covered by the noise of outgoing, said low:
<lb n="090331"/><said who="tl">―Is it your view, then, that she was not faithful to the poet?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090332"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Alarmed face asks me. Why did he come? Courtesy or an inward
<lb n="090333"/>light?</said>
<lb n="090334"/><said who="sd">―Where there is a reconciliation,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">there must have been first a
<lb n="090335"/>sundering.</said>
<lb n="090336"/><said who="tl">―Yes.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090337"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Christfox</distinct> in leather <distinct type="dialect">trews</distinct>, hiding, a runaway in blighted <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">treeforks</distinct>,
<lb n="090338"/>from hue and cry. Knowing no vixen, walking lonely in the chase. Women
<lb n="090339"/>he won to him, tender people, a whore of Babylon, ladies of justices, bully
<lb n="090340"/>tapsters' wives. Fox and geese. And in New Place a slack dishonoured body
<lb n="090341"/>that once was comely, once as sweet, as fresh as cinnamon, now her leaves
  <lb n="090342"/>falling, all, bare, <distinct type="archaism">frighted</distinct> of the narrow grave and unforgiven.</said>
<lb n="090343"/><said who="tl">―Yes. So you think ....</said></p>
<p><lb n="090344"/>The door closed behind the outgoer.</p>
<p><lb n="090345"/>Rest suddenly possessed the discreet vaulted cell, rest of warm and
<lb n="090346"/>brooding air.</p>
<p><lb n="090347"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">A vestal's lamp.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090348"/>Here he ponders things that were not: what Caesar would have lived
<lb n="090349"/>to do had he believed the soothsayer: what might have been: possibilities of
<lb n="090350"/>the possible as possible: things not known: what name Achilles bore when
<lb n="090351"/>he lived among women.</p>
<p><lb n="090352"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Coffined thoughts around me, in <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">mummycases</distinct>, embalmed in spice of
<lb n="090353"/>words. Thoth, god of libraries, a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">birdgod</distinct>, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">moonycrowned</distinct>. And I heard the
  <lb n="090354"/>voice of that Egyptian <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">highpriest</distinct>. <quote>In painted chambers loaded with
  <lb n="090355"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">tilebooks</distinct>.</quote></said></p>
<p><lb n="090356"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">They are still. Once quick in the brains of men. Still: but an itch of
<lb n="090357"/>death is in them, to tell me in my ear a maudlin tale, urge me to wreak their
<lb n="090358"/>will.</said>
<lb n="090359"/><said who="je">―Certainly,</said> John Eglinton mused, <said who="je">of all great men he is the most enigmatic.
<lb n="090360"/>We know nothing but that he lived and suffered. Not even so much. Others
<lb n="090361"/>abide our question. A shadow hangs over all the rest.</said>
<lb n="090362"/><said who="rib">―But <title type="play">Hamlet</title> is so personal, isn't it?</said> Mr Best pleaded. <said who="rib">I mean, a kind of
<lb n="090363"/>private paper, don't you know, of his private life. I mean, I don't care a
<lb n="090364"/>button, don't you know, who is killed or who is guilty ...</said></p>
<p><lb n="090365"/>He rested an innocent book on the edge of the desk, smiling his
<lb n="090366"/>defiance. <said who="sd" aloud="false">His private papers in the original. <foreign xml:lang="ga">Ta an bad ar an tir. Taim in mo
<lb n="090367"/>shagart.</foreign> Put beurla on it, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">littlejohn</distinct>.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090368"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><distinct type="archaism">Quoth</distinct> <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">littlejohn</distinct> Eglinton:</said>
<lb n="090369"/><said who="je">―I was prepared for paradoxes from what Malachi Mulligan told us but I
<lb n="090370"/>may as well warn you that if you want to shake my belief that Shakespeare
<lb n="090371"/>is Hamlet you have a stern task before you.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090372"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Bear with me.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090373"/>Stephen withstood the bane of miscreant eyes glinting stern under
<lb n="090374"/>wrinkled brows. <said who="sd" aloud="false">A basilisk. <foreign xml:lang="it">E quando vede l'uomo l'attosca.</foreign> Messer
<lb n="090375"/>Brunetto, I thank thee for the word.</said>
<lb n="090376"/><said who="sd">―As we, or mother Dana, weave and unweave our bodies,</said> Stephen said,
<said who="sd"><lb n="090377"/>from day to day, their molecules shuttled to and fro, so does the artist
<lb n="090378"/>weave and unweave his image. And as the mole on my right breast is where
<lb n="090379"/>it was when I was born, though all my body has been woven of new stuff
<lb n="090380"/>time after time, so through the ghost of the unquiet father the image of the
<lb n="090381"/>unliving son looks forth. In the intense instant of imagination, when the
<lb n="090382"/>mind, Shelley says, is a fading coal, that which I was is that which I am and
<lb n="090383"/>that which in possibility I may come to be. So in the future, the sister of the
<lb n="090384"/>past, I may see myself as I sit here now but by reflection from that which
<lb n="090385"/>then I shall be.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090386"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Drummond of Hawthornden helped you at that stile.</said>
<lb n="090387"/><said who="rib">―Yes,</said> Mr Best said youngly. <said who="rib">I feel Hamlet quite young. The bitterness
<lb n="090388"/>might be from the father but the passages with Ophelia are surely from the
<lb n="090389"/>son.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090390"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Has the wrong sow by the lug. He is in my father. I am in his son.</said>
<lb n="090391"/><said who="sd">―That mole is the last to go,</said> Stephen said, laughing.</p>
<p><lb n="090392"/>John Eglinton made a nothing pleasing mow.
<lb n="090393"/><said who="je">―If that were the birthmark of genius,</said> he said, <said who="je">genius would be a drug in
<lb n="090394"/>the market. The plays of Shakespeare's later years which Renan admired so
<lb n="090395"/>much breathe another spirit.</said>
<lb n="090396"/><said who="tl">―The spirit of reconciliation,</said> the quaker librarian breathed.
<lb n="090397"/><said who="sd">―There can be no reconciliation,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">if there has not been a
<lb n="090398"/>sundering.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090399"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Said that.</said>
<lb n="090400"/><said who="sd">―If you want to know what are the events which cast their shadow over the
<lb n="090401"/>hell of time of <title type="play">King Lear</title>, <title type="play">Othello</title>, <title type="play">Hamlet</title>, <title type="play">Troilus and Cressida</title>, look to
<lb n="090402"/>see when and how the shadow lifts. What softens the heart of a man,
<lb n="090403"/>shipwrecked in storms dire, Tried, like another Ulysses, Pericles, prince of
<lb n="090404"/>Tyre?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090405"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Head, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">redconecapped</distinct>, buffeted, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">brineblinded</distinct>.</said>
<lb n="090406"/><said who="sd">―A child, a girl, placed in his arms, Marina.</said>
<lb n="090407"/><said who="je">―The leaning of sophists towards the bypaths of apocrypha is a constant
<lb n="090408"/>quantity,</said> John Eglinton detected. <said who="je">The highroads are dreary but they lead to
<lb n="090409"/>the town.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090410"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Good Bacon: gone musty. Shakespeare Bacon's wild oats.
<lb n="090411"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Cypherjugglers</distinct> going the highroads. Seekers on the great quest. What
<lb n="090412"/>town, good masters? Mummed in names: A. E., eon: Magee, John Eglinton.
<lb n="090413"/>East of the sun, west of the moon: <foreign xml:lang="it">Tir na n-og</foreign>. Booted the twain and
<lb n="090414"/>staved.</said></p>
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="090415"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><l>How many miles to Dublin?</l>
<lb n="090416"/><l>Three score and ten, sir.</l>
<lb n="090417"/><l>Will we be there by candlelight?</l></said></lg></quote>
<p><lb n="090418"/><said who="sd">―Mr Brandes accepts it,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">as the first play of the closing period.</said>
<lb n="090419"/><said who="je">―Does he? What does Mr Sidney Lee, or Mr Simon Lazarus as some aver
<lb n="090420"/>his name is, say of it?</said>
<lb n="090421"/><said who="sd">―Marina,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">a child of storm, Miranda, a wonder, Perdita, that
<lb n="090422"/>which was lost. What was lost is given back to him: his daughter's child.
<lb n="090423"/><quote>My dearest wife</quote>, Pericles says, <quote>was like this maid</quote>. Will any man love the
<lb n="090424"/>daughter if he has not loved the mother?</said>
<lb n="090425"/><said who="rib">―The art of being a grandfather,</said> Mr Best gan murmur. <said who="rib"><foreign xml:lang="fr">L'art d'être
<lb n="090426"/>grandp</foreign> .....</said>
<lb n="090427"/><said who="sd">―Will he not see reborn in her, with the memory of his own youth added,
<lb n="090428"/>another image?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090429"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Do you know what you are talking about? Love, yes. Word known to
<lb n="090430"/>all men. <foreign xml:lang="la">Amor vero aliquid alicui bonum vult unde et ea quae
<lb n="090431"/>concupiscimus</foreign> ...</said>
<lb n="090432"/><said who="sd">―His own image to a man with that queer thing genius is the standard of
<lb n="090433"/>all experience, material and moral. Such an appeal will touch him. The
<lb n="090434"/>images of other males of his blood will repel him. He will see in them
<lb n="090435"/>grotesque attempts of nature to foretell or to repeat himself.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090436"/>The benign forehead of the quaker librarian enkindled rosily with
<lb n="090437"/>hope.
<lb n="090438"/><said who="tl">―I hope Mr Dedalus will work out his theory for the enlightenment of the
<lb n="090439"/>public. And we ought to mention another Irish commentator, Mr George
<lb n="090440"/>Bernard Shaw. Nor should we forget Mr Frank Harris. His articles on
<lb n="090441"/>Shakespeare in the <title type="magazine">Saturday Review</title> were surely brilliant. Oddly enough
<lb n="090442"/>he too draws for us an unhappy relation with the dark lady of the sonnets.
<lb n="090443"/>The favoured rival is William Herbert, earl of Pembroke. I own that if the
<lb n="090444"/>poet must be rejected such a rejection would seem more in harmony with –
<lb n="090445"/>what shall I say? – our notions of what ought not to have been.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090446"/>Felicitously he ceased and held a meek head among them, auk's egg,
<lb n="090447"/>prize of their fray.</p>
<p><lb n="090448"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">He thous and thees her with grave <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">husbandwords</distinct>. <distinct type="archaism">Dost</distinct> love,
  <lb n="090449"/>Miriam? <distinct type="archaism">Dost</distinct> love thy man?</said>
<lb n="090450"/><said who="sd">―That may be too,</said> Stephen said. <said who="sd">There's a saying of Goethe's which Mr
<lb n="090451"/>Magee likes to quote. Beware of what you wish for in youth because you
<lb n="090452"/>will get it in middle life. Why does he send to one who is a <foreign xml:lang="it">buonaroba</foreign>, a bay
<lb n="090453"/>where all men ride, a maid of honour with a scandalous girlhood, a <distinct type="archaism">lordling</distinct>
<lb n="090454"/>to woo for him? He was himself a lord of language and had made himself a
  <lb n="090455"/><distinct type="archaism">coistrel</distinct> gentleman and he had written <title type="play">Romeo and Juliet</title>. Why? Belief in
<lb n="090456"/>himself has been untimely killed. He was overborne in a cornfield first (a
  <lb n="090457"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">ryefield</distinct>, I should say) and he will never be a victor in his own eyes after nor
<lb n="090458"/>play victoriously the game of laugh and lie down. Assumed <distinct type="Joycean">dongiovannism</distinct>
<lb n="090459"/>will not save him. No later undoing will undo the first undoing. The tusk of
<lb n="090460"/>the boar has wounded him there where love lies ableeding. If the shrew is
<lb n="090461"/>worsted yet there remains to her woman's invisible weapon. There is, I feel
<lb n="090462"/>in the words, some goad of the flesh driving him into a new passion, a
<lb n="090463"/>darker shadow of the first, darkening even his own understanding of
<lb n="090464"/>himself. A like fate awaits him and the two rages commingle in a whirlpool.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090465"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">They list. And in the porches of their ears I pour.</said>
<lb n="090466"/><said who="sd">―The soul has been before stricken mortally, a poison poured in the porch
<lb n="090467"/>of a sleeping ear. But those who are done to death in sleep cannot know the
<lb n="090468"/>manner of their quell unless their Creator endow their souls with that
<lb n="090469"/>knowledge in the life to come. The poisoning and the beast with two backs
<lb n="090470"/>that urged it King Hamlet's ghost could not know of were he not endowed
<lb n="090471"/>with knowledge by his creator. That is why the speech (his lean unlovely
<lb n="090472"/>English) is always turned elsewhere, backward. Ravisher and ravished,
<lb n="090473"/>what he would but would not, go with him from Lucrece's <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">bluecircled</distinct> ivory
<lb n="090474"/>globes to Imogen's breast, bare, with its mole <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">cinquespotted</distinct>. He goes back,
<lb n="090475"/>weary of the creation he has piled up to hide him from himself, an old dog
<lb n="090476"/>licking an old sore. But, because loss is his gain, he passes on towards
<lb n="090477"/>eternity in undiminished personality, untaught by the wisdom he has
<lb n="090478"/>written or by the laws he has revealed. His beaver is up. He is a ghost, a
<lb n="090479"/>shadow now, the wind by Elsinore's rocks or what you will, the sea's voice,
<lb n="090480"/>a voice heard only in the heart of him who is the substance of his shadow,
<lb n="090481"/>the son consubstantial with the father.</said>
<lb n="090482"/><said who="bm">―Amen!</said> was responded from the doorway.</p>
<p><lb n="090483"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Hast thou found me, O mine enemy?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090484"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><foreign xml:lang="fr">Entr'acte.</foreign></said></p>
<p><lb n="090485"/>A ribald face, sullen as a dean's, Buck Mulligan came forward, then
<lb n="090486"/>blithe in motley, towards the greeting of their smiles. <said who="sd" aloud="false">My telegram.</said>
<lb n="090487"/><said who="bm">―You were speaking of the gaseous vertebrate, if I mistake not?</said> he asked of
<lb n="090488"/>Stephen.</p>
<p><lb n="090489"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Primrosevested</distinct> he greeted gaily with his doffed Panama as with a
<lb n="090490"/>bauble.</p>
<p><lb n="090491"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">They make him welcome. <foreign xml:lang="de">Was Du verlachst wirst Du noch dienen.</foreign></said></p>
<p><lb n="090492"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Brood of mockers: Photius, pseudo Malachi, Johann Most.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090493"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">He Who Himself begot middler the Holy Ghost and Himself sent
<lb n="090494"/>Himself, Agenbuyer, between Himself and others, Who, put upon by His
<lb n="090495"/>fiends, stripped and whipped, was nailed like bat to <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">barndoor</distinct>, starved on
<lb n="090496"/>crosstree, Who let Him bury, stood up, harrowed hell, fared into heaven
<lb n="090497"/>and there these nineteen hundred years sitteth on the right hand of His
<lb n="090498"/>Own Self but yet shall come in the latter day to doom the quick and dead
<lb n="090499"/>when all the quick shall be dead already.</said></p> <notatedMusic/>
<p rend="inset"><lb n="090500"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><foreign xml:lang="la">Glo-o--ri--a in ex--cel--sis De--o.</foreign></said></p>
<p><lb n="090501"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">He lifts his hands. Veils fall. O, flowers! Bells with bells with bells
<lb n="090502"/>aquiring.</said>
<lb n="090503"/><said who="tl">―Yes, indeed,</said> the quaker librarian said. <said who="tl">A most instructive discussion. Mr
<lb n="090504"/>Mulligan, I'll be bound, has his theory too of the play and of Shakespeare.
<lb n="090505"/>All sides of life should be represented.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090506"/>He smiled on all sides equally.</p>
<p><lb n="090507"/>Buck Mulligan thought, puzzled.
<lb n="090508"/><said who="bm">―Shakespeare?</said> he said. <said who="bm">I seem to know the name.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090509"/>A flying sunny smile rayed in his loose features.
<lb n="090510"/><said who="bm">―To be sure,</said> he said, remembering brightly. <said who="bm">The chap that writes like
<lb n="090511"/>Synge.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090512"/>Mr Best turned to him.
<lb n="090513"/><said who="rib">―Haines missed you,</said> he said. <said who="rib">Did you meet him? He'll see you after at the
<lb n="090514"/>D. B. C. He's gone to Gill's to buy Hyde's <title type="book">Lovesongs of Connacht</title>.</said>
<lb n="090515"/><said who="bm">―I came through the museum,</said> Buck Mulligan said. <said who="bm">Was he here?</said>
<lb n="090516"/><said who="je">―The bard's <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">fellowcountrymen</distinct>,</said> John Eglinton answered, <said who="je">are rather tired
<lb n="090517"/>perhaps of our brilliancies of theorising. I hear that an actress played
  <lb n="090518"/>Hamlet for the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">fourhundredandeighth</distinct> time last night in Dublin. Vining
<lb n="090519"/>held that the prince was a woman. Has no-one made him out to be an
<lb n="090520"/>Irishman? Judge Barton, I believe, is searching for some clues. He swears
<lb n="090521"/>(His Highness not His Lordship) by saint Patrick.</said>
<lb n="090522"/><said who="rib">―The most brilliant of all is that story of Wilde's,</said> Mr Best said, lifting his
<lb n="090523"/>brilliant notebook. <said who="rib">That <title type="book">Portrait of Mr W. H.</title> where he proves that the
<lb n="090524"/>sonnets were written by a Willie Hughes, a man all hues.</said>
<lb n="090525"/><said who="tl">―For Willie Hughes, is it not?</said> the quaker librarian asked.</p>
<p><lb n="090526"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Or Hughie Wills? Mr William Himself. W. H.: who am I?</said>
<lb n="090527"/><said who="rib">―I mean, for Willie Hughes,</said> Mr Best said, amending his gloss easily. <said who="rib">Of
<lb n="090528"/>course it's all paradox, don't you know, Hughes and hews and hues, the
<lb n="090529"/>colour, but it's so typical the way he works it out. It's the very essence of
<lb n="090530"/>Wilde, don't you know. The light touch.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090531"/>His glance touched their faces lightly as he smiled, a blond ephebe.
<lb n="090532"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Tame essence of Wilde.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090533"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">You're darned witty. Three drams of <distinct type="dialect">usquebaugh</distinct> you drank with
<lb n="090534"/>Dan Deasy's ducats.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090535"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">How much did I spend? O, a few shillings.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090536"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">For a plump of pressmen. Humour wet and dry.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090537"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Wit. You would give your five wits for youth's proud livery he pranks
<lb n="090538"/>in. Lineaments of gratified desire.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090539"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">There be many mo. Take her for me. In pairing time. Jove, a cool
  <lb n="090540"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">ruttime</distinct> send them. Yea, turtledove her.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090541"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Eve. Naked <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">wheatbellied</distinct> sin. A snake coils her, fang in's kiss.</said>
<lb n="090542"/><said who="tl">―Do you think it is only a paradox?</said> the quaker librarian was asking. <said who="tl">The
<lb n="090543"/>mocker is never taken seriously when he is most serious.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090544"/>They talked seriously of mocker's seriousness.</p>
<p><lb n="090545"/>Buck Mulligan's again heavy face eyed Stephen awhile. Then, his
<lb n="090546"/>head wagging, he came near, drew a folded telegram from his pocket. His
<lb n="090547"/>mobile lips read, smiling with new delight.
<lb n="090548"/><said who="bm">―Telegram!</said> he said. <said who="bm">Wonderful inspiration! Telegram! A papal bull!</said></p>
<p><lb n="090549"/>He sat on a corner of the unlit desk, reading aloud joyfully:
<lb n="090550"/><said who="bm">―<quote>The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense
  <lb n="090551"/><distinct type="Joycean">debtorship</distinct> for a thing done.</quote> Signed: Dedalus. Where did you launch it
<lb n="090552"/>from? The kips? No. College Green. Have you drunk the four quid? The
<lb n="090553"/>aunt is going to call on your unsubstantial father. Telegram! Malachi
<lb n="090554"/>Mulligan, The Ship, lower Abbey street. O, you peerless mummer! O, you
  <lb n="090555"/><distinct type="Joycean">priestified</distinct> <distinct type="Joycean">Kinchite</distinct>!</said></p>
<p><lb n="090556"/>Joyfully he thrust message and envelope into a pocket but keened in a
<lb n="090557"/>querulous brogue:
<lb n="090558"/><said who="bm">―It's what I'm telling you, mister honey, it's queer and sick we were,
<lb n="090559"/>Haines and myself, the time himself brought it in. 'Twas murmur we did for
  <lb n="090560"/>a <distinct type="dialect">gallus</distinct> potion would rouse a friar, I'm thinking, and he limp with <distinct type="dialect">leching</distinct>.
<lb n="090561"/>And we one hour and two hours and three hours in Connery's sitting civil
<lb n="090562"/>waiting for pints apiece.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090563"/>He wailed:
  <lb n="090564"/><said who="bm">―And we to be there, <distinct type="dialect">mavrone</distinct>, and you to be unbeknownst sending us
<lb n="090565"/>your conglomerations the way we to have our tongues out a yard long like
  <lb n="090566"/>the <distinct type="dialect">drouthy</distinct> clerics do be fainting for a <distinct type="dialect">pussful</distinct>.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090567"/>Stephen laughed.</p>
<p><lb n="090568"/>Quickly, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">warningfully</distinct> Buck Mulligan bent down.
<lb n="090569"/><said who="bm">―The tramper Synge is looking for you,</said> he said, <said who="bm">to murder you. He heard
  <lb n="090570"/>you pissed on his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">halldoor</distinct> in Glasthule. He's out in <distinct type="dialect">pampooties</distinct> to murder
<lb n="090571"/>you.</said>
<lb n="090572"/><said who="sd">―Me!</said> Stephen exclaimed. <said who="sd">That was your contribution to literature.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090573"/>Buck Mulligan gleefully bent back, laughing to the dark
<lb n="090574"/>eavesdropping ceiling.
<lb n="090575"/><said who="bm">―Murder you!</said> he laughed.</p>
<p><lb n="090576"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Harsh gargoyle face that warred against me over our mess of hash of
<lb n="090577"/>lights in rue Saint André des Arts. In words of words for words, palabras.
<lb n="090578"/>Oisin with Patrick. Faunman he met in Clamart woods, brandishing a
  <lb n="090579"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">winebottle</distinct>. <foreign xml:lang="fr">C'est vendredi saint!</foreign> <distinct type="archaism">Murthering</distinct> Irish. His image, wandering,
<lb n="090580"/>he met. I mine. I met a fool i'the forest.</said>
<lb n="090581"/><said who="uatt">―Mr Lyster,</said> an attendant said from the door ajar.
<lb n="090582"/><said who="tl">―..... in which everyone can find his own. So Mr Justice Madden in his
<lb n="090583"/><title type="book">Diary of Master William Silence</title> has found the hunting terms .... Yes? What
<lb n="090584"/>is it?</said>
<lb n="090585"/><said who="uatt">―There's a gentleman here, sir,</said> the attendant said, coming forward and
<lb n="090586"/>offering a card. <said who="uatt">From the <title type="newspaper">Freeman</title>. He wants to see the files of the <title type="newspaper">Kilkenny
<lb n="090587"/>People</title> for last year.</said>
<lb n="090588"/><said who="tl">―Certainly, certainly, certainly. Is the gentleman ......?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090589"/>He took the eager card, glanced, not saw, laid down unglanced,
<lb n="090590"/>looked, asked, creaked, asked:
<lb n="090591"/><said who="tl">―Is he .....? O, there!</said></p>
<p><lb n="090592"/>Brisk in a galliard he was off, out. In the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">daylit</distinct> corridor he talked
<lb n="090593"/>with voluble pains of zeal, in duty bound, most fair, most kind, most honest
  <lb n="090594"/><distinct type="dialect">broadbrim</distinct>.
<lb n="090595"/><said who="tl">―This gentleman? <title type="newspaper">Freeman's Journal</title>? <title type="newspaper">Kilkenny People</title>? To be sure. Good
<lb n="090596"/>day, sir. <title type="newspaper">Kilkenny</title> .... We have certainly ....</said></p>
<p><lb n="090597"/>A patient silhouette waited, listening.
<lb n="090598"/><said who="tl">―All the leading provincial .... <title type="newspaper">Northern Whig</title>, <title type="newspaper">Cork Examiner</title>,
<lb n="090599"/><title type="newspaper">Enniscorthy Guardian</title>. Last year. 1903 .... Will you please ... Evans,
<lb n="090600"/>conduct this gentleman ... If you just follow the atten .... Or, please allow
<lb n="090601"/>me .... This way ... Please, sir ....</said></p>
<p><lb n="090602"/>Voluble, dutiful, he led the way to all the provincial papers, a bowing
<lb n="090603"/>dark figure following his hasty heels.</p>
<p><lb n="090604"/>The door closed.
<lb n="090605"/><said who="bm">―The sheeny!</said> Buck Mulligan cried.</p>
<p><lb n="090606"/>He jumped up and snatched the card.
<lb n="090607"/><said who="bm">―What's his name? Ikey Moses? Bloom.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090608"/>He rattled on:
<lb n="090609"/><said who="bm">―Jehovah, collector of prepuces, is no more. I found him over in the
<lb n="090610"/>museum where I went to hail the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">foamborn</distinct> Aphrodite. The Greek mouth
<lb n="090611"/>that has never been twisted in prayer. Every day we must do homage to her.
<lb n="090612"/><quote>Life of life, thy lips enkindle.</quote></said></p>
<p><lb n="090613"/>Suddenly he turned to Stephen:
<lb n="090614"/><said who="bm">―He knows you. He knows your old fellow. O, I fear me, he is Greeker
<lb n="090615"/>than the Greeks. His pale Galilean eyes were upon her mesial groove.
<lb n="090616"/>Venus Kallipyge. O, the thunder of those loins! <quote>The god pursuing the
<lb n="090617"/>maiden hid.</quote></said>
<lb n="090618"/><said who="je">―We want to hear more,</said> John Eglinton decided with Mr Best's approval.
<said who="je"><lb n="090619"/>We begin to be interested in Mrs S. Till now we had thought of her, if at all,
<lb n="090620"/>as a patient Griselda, a Penelope stay-at-home.</said>
<lb n="090621"/><said who="sd">―Antisthenes, pupil of Gorgias,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">took the palm of beauty from
  <lb n="090622"/>Kyrios Menelaus' <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">brooddam</distinct>, Argive Helen, the wooden mare of Troy in
<lb n="090623"/>whom a score of heroes slept, and handed it to poor Penelope. Twenty years
<lb n="090624"/>he lived in London and, during part of that time, he drew a salary equal to
<lb n="090625"/>that of the lord chancellor of Ireland. His life was rich. His art, more than
<lb n="090626"/>the art of feudalism as Walt Whitman called it, is the art of surfeit. Hot
  <lb n="090627"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">herringpies</distinct>, green mugs of sack, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">honeysauces</distinct>, sugar of roses, <distinct type="archaism">marchpane</distinct>,
  <lb n="090628"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">gooseberried</distinct> pigeons, <distinct type="Joycean">ringocandies</distinct>. Sir Walter Raleigh, when they arrested
<lb n="090629"/>him, had half a million francs on his back including a pair of fancy stays.
  <lb n="090630"/>The <distinct type="dialect">gombeenwoman</distinct> Eliza Tudor had <distinct type="archaism">underlinen</distinct> enough to vie with her of
<lb n="090631"/>Sheba. Twenty years he dallied there between conjugial love and its chaste
<lb n="090632"/>delights and scortatory love and its foul pleasures. You know
<lb n="090633"/>Manningham's story of the burgher's wife who bade Dick Burbage to her
<lb n="090634"/>bed after she had seen him in <title type="play">Richard III</title> and how Shakespeare,
<lb n="090635"/>overhearing, without more ado about nothing, took the cow by the horns
<lb n="090636"/>and, when Burbage came knocking at the gate, answered from the capon's
<lb n="090637"/>blankets: <quote>William the conqueror came before Richard III.</quote> And the gay
  <lb n="090638"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">lakin</distinct>, mistress Fitton, mount and cry O, and his dainty <distinct type="dialect">birdsnies</distinct>, lady
<lb n="090639"/>Penelope Rich, a clean quality woman is suited for a player, and the punks
<lb n="090640"/>of the bankside, a penny a time.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090641"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Cours la Reine. <foreign xml:lang="fr">Encore vingt sous. Nous ferons de petites cochonneries.
<lb n="090642"/>Minette? Tu veux?</foreign></said>
<lb n="090643"/><said who="sd">―The height of fine society. And sir William Davenant of Oxford's mother
<lb n="090644"/>with her cup of canary for any <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">cockcanary</distinct>.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090645"/>Buck Mulligan, his pious eyes upturned, prayed:
<lb n="090646"/><said who="bm">―Blessed Margaret Mary Anycock!</said>
<lb n="090647"/><said who="sd">―And Harry of six wives' daughter. And other lady friends from
<lb n="090648"/>neighbour seats as Lawn Tennyson, gentleman poet, sings. But all those
<lb n="090649"/>twenty years what do you suppose poor Penelope in Stratford was doing
<lb n="090650"/>behind the diamond panes?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090651"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Do and do. Thing done. In a rosery of Fetter lane of Gerard,
<lb n="090652"/>herbalist, he walks, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">greyedauburn</distinct>. An azured harebell like her veins. Lids
<lb n="090653"/>of Juno's eyes, violets. He walks. One life is all. One body. Do. But do.
<lb n="090654"/>Afar, in a reek of lust and squalor, hands are laid on whiteness.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090655"/>Buck Mulligan rapped John Eglinton's desk sharply.
<lb n="090656"/><said who="bm">―Whom do you suspect?</said> he challenged.
<lb n="090657"/><said who="sd">―Say that he is the spurned lover in the sonnets. Once spurned twice
<lb n="090658"/>spurned. But the court wanton spurned him for a lord, his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">dearmylove</distinct>.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090659"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Love that dare not speak its name.</said>
<lb n="090660"/><said who="je">―As an Englishman, you mean,</said> John sturdy Eglinton put in, <said who="je">he loved a
<lb n="090661"/>lord.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090662"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Old wall where sudden lizards flash. At Charenton I watched them.</said>
<lb n="090663"/><said who="sd">―It seems so,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">when he wants to do for him, and for all other
<lb n="090664"/>and singular uneared wombs, the holy office an <distinct type="archaism">ostler</distinct> does for the stallion.
<lb n="090665"/>Maybe, like Socrates, he had a midwife to mother as he had a shrew to wife.
  <lb n="090666"/>But she, the <distinct type="archaism">giglot</distinct> wanton, did not break a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">bedvow</distinct>. Two deeds are rank in
<lb n="090667"/>that ghost's mind: a broken vow and the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">dullbrained</distinct> yokel on whom her
<lb n="090668"/>favour has declined, deceased husband's brother. Sweet Ann, I take it, was
<lb n="090669"/>hot in the blood. Once a wooer, twice a wooer.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090670"/>Stephen turned boldly in his chair.
<lb n="090671"/><said who="sd">―The burden of proof is with you not with me,</said> he said frowning. <said who="sd">If you
<lb n="090672"/>deny that in the fifth scene of <title type="play">Hamlet</title> he has branded her with infamy tell
<lb n="090673"/>me why there is no mention of her during the <distinct type="compound">thirtyfour</distinct> years between the
<lb n="090674"/>day she married him and the day she buried him. All those women saw their
<lb n="090675"/>men down and under: Mary, her <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">goodman</distinct> John, Ann, her poor dear
<lb n="090676"/>Willun, when he went and died on her, raging that he was the first to go,
<lb n="090677"/>Joan, her four brothers, Judith, her husband and all her sons, Susan, her
<lb n="090678"/>husband too, while Susan's daughter, Elizabeth, to use granddaddy's
<lb n="090679"/>words, wed her second, having killed her first. O, yes, mention there is. In
<lb n="090680"/>the years when he was living richly in royal London to pay a debt she had
<lb n="090681"/>to borrow forty shillings from her father's shepherd. Explain you then.
<lb n="090682"/>Explain the swansong too wherein he has commended her to posterity.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090683"/>He faced their silence.</p>
<p rend="inset"><lb n="090684"/>To whom thus Eglinton: <said who="je">You mean the will.
<lb n="090685"/>But that has been explained, I believe, by jurists.
<lb n="090686"/>She was entitled to her widow's dower
<lb n="090687"/>At common law. His legal knowledge was great
<lb n="090688"/>Our judges tell us.</said>
<lb n="090689"/>Him Satan fleers,
<lb n="090690"/>Mocker:
<said who="je"><lb n="090691"/>And therefore he left out her name
<lb n="090692"/>From the first draft but he did not leave out
<lb n="090693"/>The presents for his granddaughter, for his daughters,
<lb n="090694"/>For his sister, for his old cronies in Stratford
<lb n="090695"/>And in London. And therefore when he was urged,
<lb n="090696"/>As I believe, to name her
<lb n="090697"/>He left her his
  <lb n="090698"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Secondbest</distinct>
<lb n="090699"/>Bed.</said></p>
<p rend="non-indent"><lb n="090700"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><foreign xml:lang="de">Punkt.</foreign></said></p>
<p rend="inset"><lb n="090701"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Leftherhis
  <lb n="090702"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Secondbest</distinct>
  <lb n="090703"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Leftherhis</distinct>
  <lb n="090704"/><distinct type="Joycean">Bestabed</distinct>
  <lb n="090705"/><distinct type="Joycean">Secabest</distinct>
  <lb n="090706"/><distinct type="Joycean">Leftabed</distinct>.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090707"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Woa!</said></p>
<p><lb n="090708"/><said who="je">―Pretty <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">countryfolk</distinct> had few chattels then,</said> John Eglinton observed, <said who="je">as they
<lb n="090709"/>have still if our peasant plays are true to type.</said>
<lb n="090710"/><said who="sd">―He was a rich country gentleman,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">with a coat of arms and
<lb n="090711"/>landed estate at Stratford and a house in Ireland yard, a capitalist
<lb n="090712"/>shareholder, a bill promoter, a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">tithefarmer</distinct>. Why did he not leave her his
<lb n="090713"/>best bed if he wished her to snore away the rest of her nights in peace?</said>
<lb n="090714"/><said who="rib">―It is clear that there were two beds, a best and a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">secondbest</distinct>,</said> Mr
  <lb n="090715"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Secondbest</distinct> Best said finely.
<lb n="090716"/><said who="bm">―<foreign xml:lang="la">Separatio a mensa et a thalamo</foreign>,</said> bettered Buck Mulligan and was smiled
<lb n="090717"/>on.
<lb n="090718"/><said who="je">―Antiquity mentions famous beds,</said> Second Eglinton puckered, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">bedsmiling</distinct>.
<said who="je"><lb n="090719"/>Let me think.</said>
<lb n="090720"/><said who="sd">―Antiquity mentions that Stagyrite <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">schoolurchin</distinct> and bald heathen sage,</said>
<lb n="090721"/>Stephen said, <said who="sd">who when dying in exile frees and endows his slaves, pays
<lb n="090722"/>tribute to his elders, wills to be laid in earth near the bones of his dead wife
<lb n="090723"/>and bids his friends be kind to an old mistress (don't forget Nell Gwynn
<lb n="090724"/>Herpyllis) and let her live in his villa.</said>
<lb n="090725"/><said who="rib">―Do you mean he died so?</said> Mr Best asked with slight concern. <said who="rib">I mean ....</said>
<lb n="090726"/><said who="bm">―He died dead drunk,</said> Buck Mulligan capped. <said who="bm"><quote>A quart of ale is a dish for a
<lb n="090727"/>king.</quote> O, I must tell you what Dowden said!</said>
<lb n="090728"/><said who="je">―What?</said> asked Besteglinton.</p>
<p><lb n="090729"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">William Shakespeare and company, limited. The people's William.
<lb n="090730"/>For terms apply: E. Dowden, Highfield house ....</said>
<lb n="090731"/><said who="bm">―Lovely!</said> Buck Mulligan suspired amorously. <said who="bm">I asked him what he thought
<lb n="090732"/>of the charge of pederasty brought against the bard. He lifted his hands and
<lb n="090733"/>said: <said who="ed" rend="italics">All we can say is that life ran very high in those days</said>. Lovely!</said></p>
<p><lb n="090734"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Catamite.</said>
<lb n="090735"/><said who="rib">―The sense of beauty leads us astray,</said> said <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">beautifulinsadness</distinct> Best to <distinct type="Joycean">ugling</distinct>
<lb n="090736"/>Eglinton.</p>
<p><lb n="090737"/>Steadfast John replied severe:
<lb n="090738"/><said who="je">―The doctor can tell us what those words mean. You cannot eat your cake
<lb n="090739"/>and have it.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090740"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Sayest thou so? Will they wrest from us, from me, the palm of beauty?</said>
<lb n="090741"/><said who="sd">―And the sense of property,</said> Stephen said. <said who="sd">He drew Shylock out of his own
<lb n="090742"/>long pocket. The son of a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">maltjobber</distinct> and moneylender he was himself a
  <lb n="090743"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">cornjobber</distinct> and moneylender, with ten <distinct type="dialect">tods</distinct> of corn hoarded in the famine
<lb n="090744"/>riots. His borrowers are no doubt those divers of worship mentioned by
<lb n="090745"/>Chettle Falstaff who reported his uprightness of dealing. He sued a
  <lb n="090746"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">fellowplayer</distinct> for the price of a few bags of malt and exacted his pound of
<lb n="090747"/>flesh in interest for every money lent. How else could Aubrey's <distinct type="archaism">ostler</distinct> and
<lb n="090748"/>callboy get rich quick? All events brought grist to his mill. Shylock chimes
  <lb n="090749"/>with the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">jewbaiting</distinct> that followed the hanging and quartering of the queen's
<lb n="090750"/>leech Lopez, his jew's heart being plucked forth while the sheeny was yet
<lb n="090751"/>alive: <title type="play">Hamlet</title> and <title type="play">Macbeth</title> with the coming to the throne of a Scotch
<lb n="090752"/>philosophaster with a turn for <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">witchroasting</distinct>. The lost armada is his jeer in
<lb n="090753"/><title type="play">Love's Labour Lost</title>. His pageants, the histories, sail <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">fullbellied</distinct> on a tide of
<lb n="090754"/>Mafeking enthusiasm. Warwickshire jesuits are tried and we have a porter's
<lb n="090755"/>theory of equivocation. The <name type="ship">Sea Venture</name> comes home from Bermudas and
<lb n="090756"/>the play Renan admired is written with Patsy Caliban, our American
<lb n="090757"/>cousin. The sugared sonnets follow Sidney's. As for fay Elizabeth,
<lb n="090758"/>otherwise carrotty Bess, the gross virgin who inspired the <title type="play">Merry Wives of
<lb n="090759"/>Windsor</title>, let some meinherr from Almany grope his life long for <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">deephid</distinct>
<lb n="090760"/>meanings in the depths of the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">buckbasket</distinct>.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090761"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">I think you're getting on very nicely. Just mix up a mixture of
<lb n="090762"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">theolologicophilolological</distinct>. <foreign xml:lang="la">Mingo, minxi, mictum, mingere.</foreign></said>
<lb n="090763"/><said who="je">―Prove that he was a jew,</said> John Eglinton dared, expectantly. <said who="je">Your dean of
<lb n="090764"/>studies holds he was a holy Roman.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090765"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><foreign xml:lang="la">Sufflaminandus sum.</foreign></said>
<lb n="090766"/><said who="sd">―He was made in Germany,</said> Stephen replied, <said who="sd">as the champion French
<lb n="090767"/>polisher of Italian scandals.</said>
  <lb n="090768"/><said who="rib">―A <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">myriadminded</distinct> man,</said> Mr Best reminded. <said who="rib">Coleridge called him
  <lb n="090769"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">myriadminded</distinct>.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090770"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><foreign xml:lang="la">Amplius. In societate humana hoc est maxime necessarium ut sit
<lb n="090771"/>amicitia inter multos.</foreign></said>
<lb n="090772"/><said who="sd">―Saint Thomas,</said> Stephen began ...
<lb n="090773"/><said who="bm">―<foreign xml:lang="la">Ora pro nobis</foreign>,</said> Monk Mulligan groaned, sinking to a chair.</p>
<p><lb n="090774"/>There he keened a wailing rune:
<lb n="090775"/><said who="bm">―<foreign xml:lang="ga">Pogue mahone! Acushla machree!</foreign> It's destroyed we are from this day! It's
<lb n="090776"/>destroyed we are surely!</said></p>
<p><lb n="090777"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">All smiled their smiles.</said>
<lb n="090778"/><said who="sd">―Saint Thomas,</said> Stephen smiling said, <said who="sd">whose <distinct type="archaism">gorbellied</distinct> works I enjoy
<lb n="090779"/>reading in the original, writing of incest from a standpoint different from
<lb n="090780"/>that of the new Viennese school Mr Magee spoke of, likens it in his wise and
<lb n="090781"/>curious way to an avarice of the emotions. He means that the love so given
<lb n="090782"/>to one near in blood is covetously withheld from some stranger who, it may
<lb n="090783"/>be, hungers for it. Jews, whom christians tax with avarice, are of all races
<lb n="090784"/>the most given to intermarriage. Accusations are made in anger. The
<lb n="090785"/>christian laws which built up the hoards of the jews (for whom, as for the
<lb n="090786"/>lollards, storm was shelter) bound their affections too with hoops of steel.
<lb n="090787"/>Whether these be sins or virtues old Nobodaddy will tell us at doomsday
<lb n="090788"/>leet. But a man who holds so tightly to what he calls his rights over what he
<lb n="090789"/>calls his debts will hold tightly also to what he calls his rights over her
<lb n="090790"/>whom he calls his wife. No sir smile neighbour shall covet his ox or his wife
<lb n="090791"/>or his manservant or his maidservant or his jackass.</said>
  <lb n="090792"/><said who="bm">―Or his <distinct type="dialect">jennyass</distinct>,</said> Buck Mulligan <distinct type="Joycean">antiphoned</distinct>.
<lb n="090793"/><said who="rib">―Gentle Will is being roughly handled,</said> gentle Mr Best said gently.
<lb n="090794"/><said who="bm">―Which will?</said> gagged sweetly Buck Mulligan. <said who="bm">We are getting mixed.</said>
<lb n="090795"/><said who="je">―The will to live,</said> John Eglinton philosophised, <said who="je">for poor Ann, Will's
<lb n="090796"/>widow, is the will to die.</said>
<lb n="090797"/><said who="sd">―<foreign xml:lang="la">Requiescat!</foreign></said> Stephen prayed.</p>
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="090798"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><l>What of all the will to do?</l>
<lb n="090799"/><l>It has vanished long ago ...</l></said></lg></quote>
<p><lb n="090800"/><said who="sd">―She lies laid out in stark stiffness in that <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">secondbest</distinct> bed, the mobled
<lb n="090801"/>queen, even though you prove that a bed in those days was as rare as a
<lb n="090802"/>motorcar is now and that its carvings were the wonder of seven parishes. In
<lb n="090803"/>old age she takes up with gospellers (one stayed with her at New Place and
<lb n="090804"/>drank a quart of sack the town council paid for but in which bed he slept it
<lb n="090805"/>skills not to ask) and heard she had a soul. She read or had read to her his
<lb n="090806"/>chapbooks preferring them to the <title type="play">Merry Wives</title> and, loosing her nightly
<lb n="090807"/>waters on the jordan, she thought over <title type="book">Hooks and Eyes for Believers'
<lb n="090808"/>Breeches</title> and <title type="book">The Most Spiritual Snuffbox to Make the Most Devout Souls
<lb n="090809"/>Sneeze</title>. Venus has twisted her lips in prayer. <ref xml:id="lb_090809">Agenbite of inwit</ref>: remorse of
<lb n="090810"/>conscience. It is an age of exhausted whoredom groping for its god.</said>
<lb n="090811"/><said who="je">―History shows that to be true,</said> <foreign xml:lang="la">inquit Eglintonus Chronolologos</foreign>. <said who="je">The ages
<lb n="090812"/>succeed one another. But we have it on high authority that a man's worst
<lb n="090813"/>enemies shall be those of his own house and family. I feel that Russell is
<lb n="090814"/>right. What do we care for his wife or father? I should say that only family
<lb n="090815"/>poets have family lives. Falstaff was not a family man. I feel that the fat
<lb n="090816"/>knight is his supreme creation.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090817"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Lean, he lay back. Shy, deny thy kindred, the unco guid. Shy, supping
<lb n="090818"/>with the godless, he sneaks the cup. A sire in Ultonian Antrim bade it him.
<lb n="090819"/>Visits him here on quarter days. Mr Magee, sir, there's a gentleman to see
<lb n="090820"/>you. Me? Says he's your father, sir. Give me my Wordsworth. Enter Magee
<lb n="090821"/>Mor Matthew, a rugged rough <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">rugheaded</distinct> kern, in <distinct type="archaism">strossers</distinct> with a buttoned
  <lb n="090822"/>codpiece, his nether stocks bemired with <distinct type="dialect">clauber</distinct> of ten forests, a wand of
<lb n="090823"/>wilding in his hand.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090824"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Your own? He knows your old fellow. The widower.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090825"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Hurrying to her squalid <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">deathlair</distinct> from gay Paris on the quayside I
<lb n="090826"/>touched his hand. The voice, new warmth, speaking. Dr Bob Kenny is
<lb n="090827"/>attending her. The eyes that wish me well. But do not know me.</said>
<lb n="090828"/><said who="sd">―A father,</said> Stephen said, battling against hopelessness, <said who="sd">is a necessary evil.
<lb n="090829"/>He wrote the play in the months that followed his father's death. If you
<lb n="090830"/>hold that he, a greying man with two marriageable daughters, with
  <lb n="090831"/><distinct type="compound">thirtyfive</distinct> years of life, <foreign xml:lang="it">nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita</foreign>, with fifty of
<lb n="090832"/>experience, is the beardless undergraduate from Wittenberg then you must
  <lb n="090833"/>hold that his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">seventyyear</distinct> old mother is the lustful queen. No. The corpse of
<lb n="090834"/>John Shakespeare does not walk the night. From hour to hour it rots and
<lb n="090835"/>rots. He rests, disarmed of fatherhood, having devised that mystical estate
<lb n="090836"/>upon his son. Boccaccio's Calandrino was the first and last man who felt
<lb n="090837"/>himself with child. Fatherhood, in the sense of conscious begetting, is
<lb n="090838"/>unknown to man. It is a mystical estate, an apostolic succession, from only
<lb n="090839"/>begetter to only begotten. On that mystery and not on the madonna which
<lb n="090840"/>the cunning Italian intellect flung to the mob of Europe the church is
<lb n="090841"/>founded and founded irremovably because founded, like the world, macro
<lb n="090842"/>and microcosm, upon the void. Upon incertitude, upon unlikelihood. <foreign xml:lang="la">Amor
<lb n="090843"/>matris</foreign>, subjective and objective genitive, may be the only true thing in life.
<lb n="090844"/>Paternity may be a legal fiction. Who is the father of any son that any son
<lb n="090845"/>should love him or he any son?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090846"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">What the hell are you driving at?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090847"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">I know. Shut up. Blast you. I have reasons.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090848"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><foreign xml:lang="la">Amplius. Adhuc. Iterum. Postea.</foreign></said></p>
<p><lb n="090849"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Are you condemned to do this?</said>
<lb n="090850"/><said who="sd">―They are sundered by a bodily shame so steadfast that the criminal annals
<lb n="090851"/>of the world, stained with all other incests and bestialities, hardly record its
<lb n="090852"/>breach. Sons with mothers, sires with daughters, lesbic sisters, loves that
<lb n="090853"/>dare not speak their name, nephews with grandmothers, jailbirds with
<lb n="090854"/>keyholes, queens with prize bulls. The son unborn mars beauty: born, he
<lb n="090855"/>brings pain, divides affection, increases care. He is a new male: his growth
<lb n="090856"/>is his father's decline, his youth his father's envy, his friend his father's
<lb n="090857"/>enemy.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090858"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">In rue Monsieur le Prince I thought it.</said>
<lb n="090859"/><said who="sd">―What links them in nature? An instant of blind rut.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090860"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Am I a father? If I were?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090861"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Shrunken uncertain hand.</said>
<lb n="090862"/><said who="sd">―Sabellius, the African, subtlest heresiarch of all the beasts of the field, held
<lb n="090863"/>that the Father was Himself His Own Son. The bulldog of Aquin, with
<lb n="090864"/>whom no word shall be impossible, refutes him. Well: if the father who has
<lb n="090865"/>not a son be not a father can the son who has not a father be a son? When
  <lb n="090866"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Rutlandbaconsouthamptonshakespeare</distinct> or another poet of the same name
<lb n="090867"/>in the comedy of errors wrote <title type="play">Hamlet</title> he was not the father of his own son
<lb n="090868"/>merely but, being no more a son, he was and felt himself the father of all his
<lb n="090869"/>race, the father of his own grandfather, the father of his unborn grandson
<lb n="090870"/>who, by the same token, never was born, for nature, as Mr Magee
<lb n="090871"/>understands her, abhors perfection.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090872"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Eglintoneyes</distinct>, quick with pleasure, looked up <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">shybrightly</distinct>. Gladly
<lb n="090873"/>glancing, a merry puritan, through the twisted eglantine.</p>
<p><lb n="090874"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Flatter. Rarely. But flatter.</said>
<lb n="090875"/><said who="bm">―Himself his own father,</said> Sonmulligan told himself. <said who="bm">Wait. I am big with
<lb n="090876"/>child. I have an unborn child in my brain. Pallas Athena! A play! The
  <lb n="090877"/>play's the thing! Let me <distinct type="archaism">parturiate</distinct>!</said></p>
<p><lb n="090878"/>He clasped his <distinct type="Joycean">paunchbrow</distinct> with both <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">birthaiding</distinct> hands.
<lb n="090879"/><said who="sd">―As for his family,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">his mother's name lives in the forest of
<lb n="090880"/>Arden. Her death brought from him the scene with Volumnia in
<lb n="090881"/><title type="play">Coriolanus</title>. His <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">boyson's</distinct> death is the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">deathscene</distinct> of young Arthur in <title type="play">King
<lb n="090882"/>John</title>. Hamlet, the black prince, is Hamnet Shakespeare. Who the girls in
<lb n="090883"/><title type="play">The Tempest</title>, in <title type="play">Pericles</title>, in <title type="play">Winter's Tale</title> are we know. Who Cleopatra,
<lb n="090884"/>fleshpot of Egypt, and Cressid and Venus are we may guess. But there is
<lb n="090885"/>another member of his family who is recorded.</said>
<lb n="090886"/><said who="je">―The plot thickens,</said> John Eglinton said.</p>
<p><lb n="090887"/>The quaker librarian, quaking, tiptoed in, quake, his mask, quake,
<lb n="090888"/>with haste, quake, quack.</p>
<p><lb n="090889"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Door closed. Cell. Day.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090890"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">They list. Three. They.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090891"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">I you he they.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090892"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Come, mess.</said></p>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="090893"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="090894"/>He had three brothers, Gilbert, Edmund, Richard. Gilbert in his old age
<lb n="090895"/>told some cavaliers he got a pass for nowt from Maister Gatherer one time
  <lb n="090896"/>mass he did and he seen his <distinct type="dialect">brud</distinct> Maister Wull the playwriter up in Lunnon
  <lb n="090897"/>in a <distinct type="dialect">wrastling</distinct> play <distinct type="dialect">wud</distinct> a man on's back. The playhouse sausage filled
<lb n="090898"/>Gilbert's soul. He is nowhere: but an Edmund and a Richard are recorded
<lb n="090899"/>in the works of sweet William.</p></sp>
<sp who="je"><speaker><lb n="090900"/>Mageeglinjohn</speaker>
<p><lb n="090901"/>Names! What's in a name?</p></sp>
<sp who="rib"><speaker><lb n="090902"/>Best</speaker>
<p><lb n="090903"/>That is my name, Richard, don't you know. I hope you are going to say a
<lb n="090904"/>good word for Richard, don't you know, for my sake.</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="090905"/>(laughter)</stage>
<sp who="bm"><speaker><lb n="090906"/>Buckmulligan</speaker>
<stage><lb n="090907"/>(piano, diminuendo)</stage>
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="090908"/><l>Then outspoke medical Dick</l>
<lb n="090909"/><l>To his comrade medical Davy ...</l></lg></quote></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="090910"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><lb n="090911"/>In his trinity of black Wills, the villain <distinct type="dialect">shakebags</distinct>, Iago, Richard
<lb n="090912"/>Crookback, Edmund in <title type="play">King Lear</title>, two bear the wicked uncles' names.
<lb n="090913"/>Nay, that last play was written or being written while his brother Edmund
<lb n="090914"/>lay dying in Southwark.</p></sp>
<sp who="rib"><speaker><lb n="090915"/>Best</speaker>
<p><lb n="090916"/>I hope Edmund is going to catch it. I don't want Richard, my name .....</p></sp>
<stage><lb n="090917"/>(laughter)</stage>
<sp who="tl"><speaker><lb n="090918"/><distinct type="Joycean">Quakerlyster</distinct></speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="090919"/>(a tempo)</stage> But he that filches from me my good name .....</p></sp>
<sp who="sd"><speaker><lb n="090920"/>Stephen</speaker>
<p><stage><lb n="090921"/>(stringendo)</stage> He has hidden his own name, a fair name, William, in the
<lb n="090922"/>plays, a super here, a clown there, as a painter of old Italy set his face in a
<lb n="090923"/>dark corner of his canvas. He has revealed it in the sonnets where there is
  <lb n="090924"/>Will in <distinct type="archaism">overplus</distinct>. Like John o'Gaunt his name is dear to him, as dear as the
<lb n="090925"/>coat and crest he toadied for, on a bend sable a spear or steeled argent,
<lb n="090926"/>honorificabilitudinitatibus, dearer than his glory of greatest shakescene in
<lb n="090927"/>the country. What's in a name? That is what we ask ourselves in childhood
<lb n="090928"/>when we write the name that we are told is ours. A star, a daystar, a
<lb n="090929"/>firedrake, rose at his birth. It shone by day in the heavens alone, brighter
<lb n="090930"/>than Venus in the night, and by night it shone over delta in Cassiopeia, the
<lb n="090931"/>recumbent constellation which is the signature of his initial among the stars.
  <lb n="090932"/>His eyes watched it, <distinct type="compound">lowlying</distinct> on the horizon, eastward of the bear, as he
<lb n="090933"/>walked by the slumberous summer fields at midnight returning from
<lb n="090934"/>Shottery and from her arms.</p></sp>
<p><lb n="090935"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Both satisfied. I too.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090936"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Don't tell them he was nine years old when it was quenched.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090937"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">And from her arms.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090938"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Wait to be wooed and won. Ay, <distinct type="archaism">meacock</distinct>. Who will woo you?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090939"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Read the skies. <foreign xml:lang="grc-Latn">Autontimorumenos. Bous Stephanoumenos.</foreign> Where's
<lb n="090940"/>your configuration? Stephen, Stephen, cut the bread even. S. D: <foreign xml:lang="it">sua donna</foreign>.
<lb n="090941"/><foreign xml:lang="it">Già: di lui. Gelindo risolve di non amare S. D.</foreign></said>
<lb n="090942"/><said who="tl">―What is that, Mr Dedalus?</said> the quaker librarian asked. <said who="tl">Was it a celestial
<lb n="090943"/>phenomenon?</said>
<lb n="090944"/><said who="sd">―A star by night,</said> Stephen said. <said who="sd">A pillar of the cloud by day.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090945"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">What more's to speak?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090946"/>Stephen looked on his hat, his stick, his boots.</p>
<p><lb n="090947"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><foreign xml:lang="grc-Latn">Stephanos</foreign>, my crown. My sword. His boots are spoiling the shape of
<lb n="090948"/>my feet. Buy a pair. Holes in my socks. Handkerchief too.</said>
<lb n="090949"/><said who="je">―You make good use of the name,</said> John Eglinton allowed. <said who="je">Your own name
<lb n="090950"/>is strange enough. I suppose it explains your fantastical humour.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090951"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Me, Magee and Mulligan.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090952"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Fabulous artificer. The hawklike man. You flew. Whereto?
<lb n="090953"/>Newhaven-Dieppe, steerage passenger. Paris and back. Lapwing. Icarus.
<lb n="090954"/><foreign xml:lang="la">Pater, ait.</foreign> <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Seabedabbled</distinct>, fallen, weltering. Lapwing you are. Lapwing be.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090955"/>Mr Best <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">eagerquietly</distinct> lifted his book to say:
<lb n="090956"/><said who="rib">―That's very interesting because that brother motive, don't you know, we
<lb n="090957"/>find also in the old Irish myths. Just what you say. The three brothers
<lb n="090958"/>Shakespeare. In Grimm too, don't you know, the fairytales. The third
<lb n="090959"/>brother that always marries the sleeping beauty and wins the best prize.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090960"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Best of Best brothers. Good, better, best.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090961"/>The quaker librarian <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">springhalted</distinct> near.
<lb n="090962"/><said who="tl">―I should like to know,</said> he said, <said who="tl">which brother you .... I understand you to
<lb n="090963"/>suggest there was misconduct with one of the brothers .... But perhaps I am
<lb n="090964"/>anticipating?</said></p>
<p><lb n="090965"/>He caught himself in the act: looked at all: refrained.</p>
<p><lb n="090966"/>An attendant from the doorway called:
<lb n="090967"/><said who="uatt2">―Mr Lyster! Father Dineen wants ...</said>
<lb n="090968"/><said who="tl">―O, Father Dineen! Directly.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090969"/>Swiftly <distinct type="archaism">rectly</distinct> creaking <distinct type="archaism">rectly</distinct> <distinct type="archaism">rectly</distinct> he was <distinct type="archaism">rectly</distinct> gone.</p>
<p><lb n="090970"/>John Eglinton touched the foil.
<lb n="090971"/><said who="je">―Come,</said> he said. <said who="je">Let us hear what you have to say of Richard and
<lb n="090972"/>Edmund. You kept them for the last, didn't you?</said>
<lb n="090973"/><said who="sd">―In asking you to remember those two noble kinsmen <distinct type="dialect">nuncle</distinct> Richie and
  <lb n="090974"/><distinct type="dialect">nuncle</distinct> Edmund,</said> Stephen answered, <said who="sd">I feel I am asking too much perhaps. A
<lb n="090975"/>brother is as easily forgotten as an umbrella.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090976"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Lapwing.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090977"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Where is your brother? Apothecaries' hall. My whetstone. Him, then
<lb n="090978"/>Cranly, Mulligan: now these. Speech, speech. But act. Act speech. They
<lb n="090979"/>mock to try you. Act. Be acted on.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090980"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Lapwing.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090981"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">I am tired of my voice, the voice of Esau. My kingdom for a drink.</said></p>
<p><lb n="090982"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">On.</said>
<lb n="090983"/><said who="sd">―You will say those names were already in the chronicles from which he
<lb n="090984"/>took the stuff of his plays. Why did he take them rather than others?
  <lb n="090985"/>Richard, a <distinct type="archaism">whoreson</distinct> <distinct type="archaism">crookback</distinct>, <distinct type="archaism">misbegotten</distinct>, makes love to a widowed
<lb n="090986"/>Ann (what's in a name?), woos and wins her, a <distinct type="archaism">whoreson</distinct> merry widow.
<lb n="090987"/>Richard the conqueror, third brother, came after William the conquered.
<lb n="090988"/>The other four acts of that play hang limply from that first. Of all his kings
<lb n="090989"/>Richard is the only king unshielded by Shakespeare's reverence, the angel
<lb n="090990"/>of the world. Why is the underplot of <title type="play">King Lear</title> in which Edmund figures
<lb n="090991"/>lifted out of Sidney's <title type="poem">Arcadia</title> and <distinct type="dialect">spatchcocked</distinct> on to a Celtic legend older
<lb n="090992"/>than history?</said>
<lb n="090993"/><said who="je">―That was Will's way,</said> John Eglinton defended. <said who="je">We should not now
<lb n="090994"/>combine a Norse saga with an excerpt from a novel by George Meredith.
<lb n="090995"/><said who="gm" rend="italics" xml:lang="fr">Que voulez-vous?</said> Moore would say. He puts Bohemia on the seacoast and
<lb n="090996"/>makes Ulysses quote Aristotle.</said>
<lb n="090997"/><said who="sd">―Why?</said> Stephen answered himself. <said who="sd">Because the theme of the false or the
<lb n="090998"/>usurping or the adulterous brother or all three in one is to Shakespeare,
<lb n="090999"/>what the poor are not, always with him. The note of banishment,
<lb n="091000"/>banishment from the heart, banishment from home, sounds uninterruptedly
<lb n="091001"/>from <title type="play">The Two Gentlemen of Verona</title> onward till Prospero breaks his staff,
<lb n="091002"/>buries it certain fathoms in the earth and drowns his book. It doubles itself
<lb n="091003"/>in the middle of his life, reflects itself in another, repeats itself, protasis,
<lb n="091004"/>epitasis, catastasis, catastrophe. It repeats itself again when he is near the
<lb n="091005"/>grave, when his married daughter Susan, chip of the old block, is accused
<lb n="091006"/>of adultery. But it was the original sin that darkened his understanding,
<lb n="091007"/>weakened his will and left in him a strong inclination to evil. The words are
<lb n="091008"/>those of my lords bishops of Maynooth. An original sin and, like original
<lb n="091009"/>sin, committed by another in whose sin he too has sinned. It is between the
<lb n="091010"/>lines of his last written words, it is petrified on his tombstone under which
<lb n="091011"/>her four bones are not to be laid. Age has not withered it. Beauty and peace
<lb n="091012"/>have not done it away. It is in infinite variety everywhere in the world he
<lb n="091013"/>has created, in <title type="play">Much Ado about Nothing</title>, twice in <title type="play">As You Like It</title>, in <title type="play">The
<lb n="091014"/>Tempest</title>, in <title type="play">Hamlet</title>, in <title type="play">Measure for Measure</title> – and in all the other plays
<lb n="091015"/>which I have not read.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091016"/>He laughed to free his mind from his mind's bondage.</p>
<p><lb n="091017"/>Judge Eglinton summed up.
<lb n="091018"/><said who="je">―The truth is midway,</said> he affirmed. <said who="je">He is the ghost and the prince. He is all
<lb n="091019"/>in all.</said>
<lb n="091020"/><said who="sd">―He is,</said> Stephen said. <said who="sd">The boy of act one is the mature man of act five. All
<lb n="091021"/>in all. In <title type="play">Cymbeline</title>, in <title type="play">Othello</title> he is bawd and cuckold. He acts and is
<lb n="091022"/>acted on. Lover of an ideal or a perversion, like José he kills the real
<lb n="091023"/>Carmen. His unremitting intellect is the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">hornmad</distinct> Iago ceaselessly willing
<lb n="091024"/>that the moor in him shall suffer.</said>
<lb n="091025"/><said who="bm">―Cuckoo! Cuckoo!</said> Cuck Mulligan clucked lewdly. <said who="bm">O word of fear!</said></p>
<p><lb n="091026"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Dark dome received, reverbed.</said>
<lb n="091027"/><said who="je">―And what a character is Iago!</said> undaunted John Eglinton exclaimed.
<said who="je"><lb n="091028"/>When all is said Dumas <foreign xml:lang="fr">fils</foreign> (or is it Dumas <foreign xml:lang="fr">père</foreign>?) is right. After God
<lb n="091029"/>Shakespeare has created most.</said>
<lb n="091030"/><said who="sd">―Man delights him not nor woman neither,</said> Stephen said. <said who="sd">He returns after
<lb n="091031"/>a life of absence to that spot of earth where he was born, where he has
<lb n="091032"/>always been, man and boy, a silent witness and there, his journey of life
  <lb n="091033"/>ended, he plants his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">mulberrytree</distinct> in the earth. Then dies. The motion is
<lb n="091034"/>ended. Gravediggers bury Hamlet <foreign xml:lang="fr">père</foreign> and Hamlet <foreign xml:lang="fr">fils</foreign>. A king and a
<lb n="091035"/>prince at last in death, with incidental music. And, what though murdered
  <lb n="091036"/>and betrayed, <distinct type="archaism">bewept</distinct> by all frail tender hearts for, Dane or Dubliner,
<lb n="091037"/>sorrow for the dead is the only husband from whom they refuse to be
<lb n="091038"/>divorced. If you like the epilogue look long on it: prosperous Prospero, the
<lb n="091039"/>good man rewarded, Lizzie, grandpa's lump of love, and <distinct type="dialect">nuncle</distinct> Richie, the
<lb n="091040"/>bad man taken off by poetic justice to the place where the bad niggers go.
<lb n="091041"/>Strong curtain. He found in the world without as actual what was in his
<lb n="091042"/>world within as possible. Maeterlinck says: <quote>If Socrates leave his house today
<lb n="091043"/>he will find the sage seated on his doorstep. If Judas go forth tonight it is to
<lb n="091044"/>Judas his steps will tend.</quote> Every life is many days, day after day. We walk
<lb n="091045"/>through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men,
<lb n="091046"/>wives, widows, brothers-in-love, but always meeting ourselves. The
<lb n="091047"/>playwright who wrote the folio of this world and wrote it badly (He gave us
<lb n="091048"/>light first and the sun two days later), the lord of things as they are whom
<lb n="091049"/>the most Roman of catholics call <foreign xml:lang="it">dio boia</foreign>, hangman god, is doubtless all in
  <lb n="091050"/>all in all of us, <distinct type="archaism">ostler</distinct> and butcher, and would be bawd and cuckold too but
<lb n="091051"/>that in the economy of heaven, foretold by Hamlet, there are no more
<lb n="091052"/>marriages, glorified man, an androgynous angel, being a wife unto himself.</said>
<lb n="091053"/><said who="bm">―<foreign xml:lang="grc-Latn">Eureka!</foreign></said> Buck Mulligan cried. <said who="bm"><foreign xml:lang="grc">Eureka!</foreign></said></p>
<p><lb n="091054"/>Suddenly happied he jumped up and reached in a stride John
<lb n="091055"/>Eglinton's desk.
<lb n="091056"/><said who="bm">―May I?</said> he said. <said who="bm">The Lord has spoken to Malachi.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091057"/>He began to scribble on a slip of paper.</p>
<p><lb n="091058"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">Take some slips from the counter going out.</said>
<lb n="091059"/><said who="rib">―Those who are married,</said> Mr Best, <distinct type="dialect">douce</distinct> herald, said, <said who="rib">all save one, shall
<lb n="091060"/>live. The rest shall keep as they are.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091061"/>He laughed, unmarried, at Eglinton Johannes, of arts a bachelor.</p>
<p><lb n="091062"/>Unwed, unfancied, ware of wiles, they <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">fingerponder</distinct> nightly each his
<lb n="091063"/>variorum edition of <title type="play">The Taming of the Shrew</title>.
<lb n="091064"/><said who="je">―You are a delusion,</said> said roundly John Eglinton to Stephen. <said who="je">You have
<lb n="091065"/>brought us all this way to show us a French triangle. Do you believe your
<lb n="091066"/>own theory?</said>
<lb n="091067"/><said who="sd">―No,</said> Stephen said promptly.
<lb n="091068"/><said who="rib">―Are you going to write it?</said> Mr Best asked. <said who="rib">You ought to make it a
<lb n="091069"/>dialogue, don't you know, like the Platonic dialogues Wilde wrote.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091070"/>John Eclecticon doubly smiled.
<lb n="091071"/><said who="je">―Well, in that case,</said> he said, <said who="je">I don't see why you should expect payment for
<lb n="091072"/>it since you don't believe it yourself. Dowden believes there is some mystery
<lb n="091073"/>in <title type="play">Hamlet</title> but will say no more. Herr Bleibtreu, the man Piper met in
<lb n="091074"/>Berlin, who is working up that Rutland theory, believes that the secret is
<lb n="091075"/>hidden in the Stratford monument. He is going to visit the present duke,
<lb n="091076"/>Piper says, and prove to him that his ancestor wrote the plays. It will come
<lb n="091077"/>as a surprise to his grace. But he believes his theory.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091078"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">I believe, O Lord, help my unbelief. That is, help me to believe or help
<lb n="091079"/>me to unbelieve? Who helps to believe? <foreign xml:lang="grc-Latn">Egomen.</foreign> Who to unbelieve? Other
<lb n="091080"/>chap.</said>
<lb n="091081"/><said who="je">―You are the only contributor to <title type="magazine">Dana</title> who asks for pieces of silver. Then
<lb n="091082"/>I don't know about the next number. Fred Ryan wants space for an article
<lb n="091083"/>on economics.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091084"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">Fraidrine. Two pieces of silver he lent me. Tide you over. Economics.</said>
<lb n="091085"/><said who="sd">―For a guinea,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">you can publish this interview.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091086"/>Buck Mulligan stood up from his laughing scribbling, laughing: and
<lb n="091087"/>then gravely said, honeying malice:
<lb n="091088"/><said who="bm">―I called upon the bard Kinch at his summer residence in upper
<lb n="091089"/>Mecklenburgh street and found him deep in the study of the <title xml:lang="la">Summa contra
<lb n="091090"/>Gentiles</title> in the company of two gonorrheal ladies, Fresh Nelly and Rosalie,
<lb n="091091"/>the coalquay whore.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091092"/>He broke away.
<lb n="091093"/><said who="bm">―Come, Kinch. Come, wandering Aengus of the birds.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091094"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">Come, Kinch. You have eaten all we left. Ay. I will serve you your orts
<lb n="091095"/>and offals.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091096"/>Stephen rose.</p>
<p><lb n="091097"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Life is many days. This will end.</said>
<lb n="091098"/><said who="je">―We shall see you tonight,</said> John Eglinton said. <said who="je"><foreign xml:lang="fr">Notre ami</foreign> Moore says
<lb n="091099"/>Malachi Mulligan must be there.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091100"/>Buck Mulligan flaunted his slip and panama.
<lb n="091101"/><said who="bm">―Monsieur Moore,</said> he said, <said who="bm">lecturer on French letters to the youth of
<lb n="091102"/>Ireland. I'll be there. Come, Kinch, the bards must drink. Can you walk
<lb n="091103"/>straight?</said></p>
<p><lb n="091104"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">Laughing, he ....</said></p>
<p><lb n="091105"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">Swill till eleven. Irish nights entertainment.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091106"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">Lubber ....</said></p>
<p><lb n="091107"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">Stephen followed a lubber ...</said></p>
<p><lb n="091108"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">One day in the national library we had a discussion. Shakes. After.
<lb n="091109"/>His lub back: I followed. I gall his kibe.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091110"/>Stephen, greeting, then all amort, followed a lubber jester, a
<lb n="091111"/><distinct type="compound">wellkempt</distinct> head, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">newbarbered</distinct>, out of the vaulted cell into a shattering
<lb n="091112"/>daylight of no thought.</p>
<p><lb n="091113"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">What have I learned? Of them? Of me?</said></p>
<p><lb n="091114"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">Walk like Haines now.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091115"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">The constant readers' room. In the readers' book Cashel Boyle
<lb n="091116"/>O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell parafes his polysyllables. Item: was
<lb n="091117"/>Hamlet mad? The quaker's pate godlily with a <distinct type="dialect">priesteen</distinct> in <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">booktalk</distinct>.</said>
<lb n="091118"/><said who="tl">―O please do, sir ..... I shall be most pleased ....</said></p>
<p><lb n="091119"/>Amused Buck Mulligan mused in pleasant murmur with himself,
  <lb n="091120"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">selfnodding</distinct>:
<lb n="091121"/><said who="bm">―A pleased bottom.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091122"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">The turnstile.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091123"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">Is that ...? <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Blueribboned</distinct> hat ...? Idly writing ...? What? .... Looked ...?</said></p>
<p><lb n="091124"/>The curving balustrade: <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">smoothsliding</distinct> Mincius.</p>
<p><lb n="091125"/>Puck Mulligan, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">panamahelmeted</distinct>, went step by step, iambing, trolling:</p>
<lb n="091126"/><said who="bm">―<quote><lg rend="italics"><l>John Eglinton, my jo, John,</l>
<lb n="091127"/><l>Why won't you wed a wife?</l></lg></quote></said>
<p><lb n="091128"/>He spluttered to the air:
<lb n="091129"/><said who="bm">―O, the chinless Chinaman! Chin Chon Eg Lin Ton. We went over to their
<lb n="091130"/>playbox, Haines and I, the plumbers' hall. Our players are creating a new
<lb n="091131"/>art for Europe like the Greeks or M. Maeterlinck. Abbey Theatre! I smell
<lb n="091132"/>the pubic sweat of monks.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091133"/>He spat blank.</p>
<p><lb n="091134"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">Forgot: any more than he forgot the whipping lousy Lucy gave him.
<lb n="091135"/>And left the <foreign xml:lang="fr">femme de trente ans</foreign>. And why no other children born? And his
<lb n="091136"/>first child a girl?</said></p>
<p><lb n="091137"/><said who="bm" aloud="false"><distinct type="compound">Afterwit</distinct>. Go back.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091138"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">The dour recluse still there (he has his cake) and the <distinct type="dialect">douce</distinct> youngling,
<lb n="091139"/>minion of pleasure, Phedo's toyable fair hair.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091140"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">Eh ... I just eh .... wanted ... I forgot ... eh ...</said>
<lb n="091141"/><said who="bm">―Longworth and M'Curdy Atkinson were there ...</said></p>
<p><lb n="091142"/>Puck Mulligan footed featly, trilling:</p>
<lb n="091143"/><said who="bm">―<quote><lg rend="italics"><l>I hardly hear the purlieu cry</l>
<lb n="091144"/><l>Or a Tommy talk as I pass one by</l>
<lb n="091145"/><l>Before my thoughts begin to run</l>
<lb n="091146"/><l>On F. M'Curdy Atkinson,</l>
<lb n="091147"/><l>The same that had the wooden leg</l>
<lb n="091148"/><l>And that filibustering filibeg</l>
  <lb n="091149"/><l>That never dared to slake his <distinct type="dialect">drouth</distinct>,</l>
<lb n="091150"/><l>Magee that had the chinless mouth.</l>
<lb n="091151"/><l>Being afraid to marry on earth</l>
<lb n="091152"/><l>They masturbated for all they were worth.</l></lg></quote></said>
<p><lb n="091153"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">Jest on. Know thyself.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091154"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">Halted, below me, a quizzer looks at me. I halt.</said>
<lb n="091155"/><said who="bm">―Mournful mummer,</said> Buck Mulligan moaned. <said who="bm">Synge has left off wearing
<lb n="091156"/>black to be like nature. Only crows, priests and English coal are black.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091157"/>A laugh tripped over his lips.
<lb n="091158"/><said who="bm">―Longworth is awfully sick,</said> he said, <said who="bm">after what you wrote about that old
<lb n="091159"/>hake Gregory. O you inquisitional drunken <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">jewjesuit</distinct>! She gets you a job on
<lb n="091160"/>the paper and then you go and slate her drivel to Jaysus. Couldn't you do
<lb n="091161"/>the Yeats touch?</said></p>
<p><lb n="091162"/>He went on and down, mopping, chanting with waving graceful
<lb n="091163"/>arms:
<lb n="091164"/><said who="bm">―The most beautiful book that has come out of our country in my time.
<lb n="091165"/>One thinks of Homer.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091166"/>He stopped at the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">stairfoot</distinct>.
<lb n="091167"/><said who="bm">―I have conceived a play for the mummers,</said> he said solemnly.</p>
<p><lb n="091168"/><said who="bm" aloud="false">The pillared Moorish hall, shadows entwined. Gone the nine men's
<lb n="091169"/>morrice with caps of indices.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091170"/>In sweetly varying voices Buck Mulligan read his tablet:</p>
<lb n="091171"/><said who="bm">―<title type="play"><lg rend="italics"><l>Everyman His Own Wife</l>
<lb n="091172"/><l>or</l>
<lb n="091173"/><l>A Honeymoon in the Hand</l></lg></title>
<lg rend="italics"><lb n="091174"/><l>(a national immorality in three orgasms)</l>
<lb n="091175"/><l>by</l>
<lb n="091176"/><l>Ballocky Mulligan</l></lg></said>
<p><lb n="091177"/>He turned a happy patch's smirk to Stephen, saying:
<lb n="091178"/><said who="bm">―The disguise, I fear, is thin. But listen.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091179"/>He read, <foreign xml:lang="it">marcato</foreign>:
<lb n="091180"/><said who="bm">―Characters:
<lb n="091181"/>Toby Tostoff (a ruined Pole)
<lb n="091182"/>Crab (a bushranger)
<lb n="091183"/>Medical Dick
<lb n="091184"/>and (two birds with one stone)
<lb n="091185"/>Medical Davy
<lb n="091186"/>Mother Grogan (a watercarrier)
<lb n="091187"/>Fresh Nelly
<lb n="091188"/>and
<lb n="091189"/>Rosalie (the coalquay whore).</said></p>
<p><lb n="091190"/>He laughed, lolling a to and fro head, walking on, followed by
<lb n="091191"/>Stephen: and mirthfully he told the shadows, souls of men:
<lb n="091192"/><said who="bm">―O, the night in the Camden hall when the daughters of Erin had to lift
<lb n="091193"/>their skirts to step over you as you lay in your <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">mulberrycoloured</distinct>,
<lb n="091194"/>multicoloured, multitudinous vomit!</said>
<lb n="091195"/><said who="sd">―The most innocent son of Erin,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">for whom they ever lifted
<lb n="091196"/>them.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091197"/>About to pass through the doorway, feeling one behind, he stood
<lb n="091198"/>aside.</p>
<p><lb n="091199"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Part. The moment is now. Where then? If Socrates leave his house
<lb n="091200"/>today, if Judas go forth tonight. Why? That lies in space which I in time
<lb n="091201"/>must come to, ineluctably.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091202"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">My will: his will that fronts me. Seas between.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091203"/>A man passed out between them, bowing, greeting.
<lb n="091204"/><said who="bm">―Good day again,</said> Buck Mulligan said.</p>
<p><lb n="091205"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">The portico.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091206"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Here I watched the birds for augury. Aengus of the birds. They go,
<lb n="091207"/>they come. Last night I flew. Easily flew. Men wondered. Street of harlots
  <lb n="091208"/>after. A <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">creamfruit</distinct> melon he held to me. In. You will see.</said>
<lb n="091209"/><said who="bm">―The wandering jew,</said> Buck Mulligan whispered with clown's awe. <said who="bm">Did you
<lb n="091210"/>see his eye? He looked upon you to lust after you. I fear thee, ancient
<lb n="091211"/>mariner. O, Kinch, thou art in peril. Get thee a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">breechpad</distinct>.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091212"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Manner of Oxenford.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091213"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Day. Wheelbarrow sun over arch of bridge.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091214"/>A dark back went before them, step of a <distinct type="archaism">pard</distinct>, down, out by the
<lb n="091215"/>gateway, under portcullis barbs.</p>
<p><lb n="091216"/>They followed.</p>
<p><lb n="091217"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Offend me still. Speak on.</said></p>
<p><lb n="091218"/>Kind air defined the coigns of houses in Kildare street. <said who="sd" aloud="false">No birds.</said> Frail
<lb n="091219"/>from the housetops two plumes of smoke ascended, pluming, and in a flaw
<lb n="091220"/>of softness softly were blown.</p>
<p><lb n="091221"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Cease to strive. Peace of the druid priests of Cymbeline: hierophantic:
<lb n="091222"/>from wide earth an altar.</said></p>
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="091223"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><l>Laud we the gods</l>
<lb n="091224"/><l>And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils</l>
<lb n="091225"/><l>From our bless'd altars.</l></said></lg></quote>
</div> <!-- End of Episode 9, "Syclla and Charybdis" -->