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indulgences, spurious coins, dairyfed pork sausages, theatre pa.s.ses, season tickets available for all tramlines, coupons of the royal and privileged Hungarian lottery, penny dinner counters, cheap reprints of the World's Twelve Worst Books: Froggy And Fritz (politic), Care of the Baby (infantilic), 50 Meals for 7/6 (culinic), Was Jesus a Sun Myth?
(historic), Expel that Pain (medic), Infant's Compendium of the Universe (cosmic), Let's All Chortle (hilaric), Canva.s.ser's Vade Mec.u.m (journalic), Loveletters of Mother a.s.sistant (erotic), Who's Who in s.p.a.ce (astric), Songs that Reached Our Heart (melodic), Pennywise's Way to Wealth (parsimonic). A general rush and scramble. Women press forward to touch the hem of Bloom's robe. The Lady Gwendolen Dubedat bursts through the throng, leaps on his horse and kisses him on both cheeks amid great acclamation. A magnesium flashlight photograph is taken.
Babes and sucklings are held up.)_
THE WOMEN: Little father! Little father!
THE BABES AND SUCKLINGS:
Clap clap hands till Poldy comes home, Cakes in his pocket for Leo alone.
_(Bloom, bending down, pokes Baby Boardman gently in the stomach.)_
BABY BOARDMAN: _(Hiccups, curdled milk flowing from his mouth)_ Hajajaja.
BLOOM: _(Shaking hands with a blind stripling)_ My more than Brother!
_(Placing his arms round the shoulders of an old couple)_ Dear old friends! _(He plays p.u.s.s.y fourcorners with ragged boys and girls)_ Peep! Bopeep! _(He wheels twins in a perambulator)_ Ticktacktwo wouldyousetashoe? _(He performs juggler's tricks, draws red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet silk handkerchiefs from his mouth)_ Roygbiv. 32 feet per second. _(He consoles a widow)_ Absence makes the heart grow younger. _(He dances the Highland fling with grotesque antics)_ Leg it, ye devils! _(He kisses the bedsores of a palsied veteran_) Honourable wounds! _(He trips up a fit policeman)_ U. p: up. U. p: up. _(He whispers in the ear of a blus.h.i.+ng waitress and laughs kindly)_ Ah, naughty, naughty! _(He eats a raw turnip offered him by Maurice b.u.t.terly, farmer)_ Fine! Splendid! _(He refuses to accept three s.h.i.+llings offered him by Joseph Hynes, journalist)_ My dear fellow, not at all! (He gives his coat to a beggar) Please accept. _(He takes part in a stomach race with elderly male and female cripples)_ Come on, boys! Wriggle it, girls!
THE CITIZEN: _(Choked with emotion, brushes aside a tear in his emerald m.u.f.fler)_ May the good G.o.d bless him!
_(The rams' horns sound for silence. The standard of Zion is hoisted.)_
BLOOM: _(Uncloaks impressively, revealing obesity, unrolls a paper and reads solemnly)_ Aleph Beth Ghimel Daleth Hagadah Tephilim Kosher Yom Kippur Hanukah Roschaschana Beni Brith Bar Mitzvah Mazzoth Asken.a.z.im Meshuggah Talith.
_(An official translation is read by Jimmy Henry, a.s.sistant town clerk.)_
JIMMY HENRY: The Court of Conscience is now open. His Most Catholic Majesty will now administer open air justice. Free medical and legal advice, solution of doubles and other problems. All cordially invited.
Given at this our loyal city of Dublin in the year I of the Paradisiacal Era.
PADDY LEONARD: What am I to do about my rates and taxes?
BLOOM: Pay them, my friend.
PADDY LEONARD: Thank you.
NOSEY FLYNN: Can I raise a mortgage on my fire insurance?
BLOOM: _(Obdurately)_ Sirs, take notice that by the law of torts you are bound over in your own recognisances for six months in the sum of five pounds.
J. J. O'MOLLOY: A Daniel did I say? Nay! A Peter O'Brien!
NOSEY FLYNN: Where do I draw the five pounds?
p.i.s.sER BURKE: For bladder trouble?
BLOOM:
_Acid. nit. hydrochlor. dil.,_ 20 minims _Tinct. nux vom.,_ 5 minims _Extr. taraxel. iiq.,_ 30 minims.
_Aq. dis. ter in die._
CHRIS CALLINAN: What is the parallax of the subsolar ecliptic of Aldebaran?
BLOOM: Pleased to hear from you, Chris. K. II.
JOE HYNES: Why aren't you in uniform?
BLOOM: When my progenitor of sainted memory wore the uniform of the Austrian despot in a dank prison where was yours?
BEN DOLLARD: Pansies?
BLOOM: Embellish (beautify) suburban gardens.
BEN DOLLARD: When twins arrive?
BLOOM: Father (pater, dad) starts thinking.
LARRY O'ROURKE: An eightday licence for my new premises. You remember me, sir Leo, when you were in number seven. I'm sending around a dozen of stout for the missus.
BLOOM: _(Coldly)_ You have the advantage of me. Lady Bloom accepts no presents.
CROFTON: This is indeed a festivity.
BLOOM: _(Solemnly)_ You call it a festivity. I call it a sacrament.
ALEXANDER KEYES: When will we have our own house of keys?
BLOOM: I stand for the reform of munic.i.p.al morals and the plain ten commandments. New worlds for old. Union of all, jew, moslem and gentile.
Three acres and a cow for all children of nature. Saloon motor hea.r.s.es.
Compulsory manual labour for all. All parks open to the public day and night. Electric dishscrubbers. Tuberculosis, lunacy, war and mendicancy must now cease. General amnesty, weekly carnival with masked licence, bonuses for all, esperanto the universal language with universal brotherhood. No more patriotism of barspongers and dropsical impostors.
Free money, free rent, free love and a free lay church in a free lay state.
O'MADDEN BURKE: Free fox in a free henroost.
DAVY BYRNE: _(Yawning)_ Iiiiiiiiiaaaaaaach!
BLOOM: Mixed races and mixed marriage.
LENEHAN: What about mixed bathing?
_(bloom explains to those near him his schemes for social regeneration.
All agree with him. The keeper of the Kildare Street Museum appears, dragging a lorry on which are the shaking statues of several naked G.o.ddesses, Venus Callipyge, Venus Pandemos, Venus Metempsychosis, and plaster figures, also naked, representing the new nine muses, Commerce, Operatic Music, Amor, Publicity, Manufacture, Liberty of Speech, Plural Voting, Gastronomy, Private Hygiene, Seaside Concert Entertainments, Painless Obstetrics and Astronomy for the People.)_
FATHER FARLEY: He is an episcopalian, an agnostic, an anythingarian seeking to overthrow our holy faith.
MRS RIORDAN: _(Tears up her will)_ I'm disappointed in you! You bad man!
MOTHER GROGAN: _(Removes her boot to throw it at Bloom)_ You beast! You abominable person!
NOSEY FLYNN: Give us a tune, Bloom. One of the old sweet songs.
