"(H. Rumbold, master barber, in a bloodcoloured jerkin and tanner's apron, a rope coiled over his shoulder, mounts the block. A life preserver and a nailstudded bludgeon are stuck in his belt He rubs grimly his grappling hands, knobbed with knuckledusters.)


(to the recorder with sinister familiarity) Hanging Harry, your Majesty, the Mersey terror. Five guineas a jugular. Neck or nothing."

"(The bells of George's church toll slowly, loud dark iron.)


Heigho! Heigho!


(desperately) Wait. Stop. Gulls. Good heart. I saw. Innocence."

"Girl in the monkeyhouse. Zoo. Lewd chimpanzee.(breathlessly) Pelvic basin. Her artless blush unmanned me. (overcome with emotion) I left the precincts."

"(he turns to a figure in the crowd, appealing) Hynes, may I speak to you? You know me. That three shillings you can keep. If you want a little more .....


(coldly) You are a perfect stranger."


(points to the corner) The bomb is here.


Infernal machine with a time fuse.


No, no. Pig's feet. I was at a funeral.


(draws his truncheon) Liar!"

"(The beagle lifts his snout, showing the grey scorbutic face of Paddy Dignam. He has gnawed all. He exhales a putrid carcasefed breath. He grows to human size and shape. His dachshund coat becomes a brown mortuary habit His green eye flashes bloodshot Half of one ear, all the nose and both thumbs are ghouleaten.)"

(in a hollow voice) It is true. It was my funeral. Doctor Finucane pronounced life extinct when I succumbed to the disease from natural causes."

"(He lifts his mutilated ashen face moonwards and bays lugubriously.)


(in triumph) You hear?


Bloom, I am Paddy Dignam's spirit. List, list, O list!"


(earnestly) Once I was in the employ of Mr J. H. Menton, solicitor, commissioner for oaths and affidavits, of 27 Bachelor's Walk. Now I am defunct, the wall of the heart hypertrophied. Hard lines. The poor wife was awfully cut up. How is she bearing it? Keep her off that bottle of sherry. (he looks round him) A lamp. I must satisfy an animal need. That buttermilk didn't agree with me.

(The portly figure of John O'Connell, caretaker, stands forth, holding a bunch of keys tied with crape. Beside him stands Father Coffey, chaplain, toadbellied, wrynecked, in a surplice and bandanna nightcap, holding sleepily a staff twisted poppies.)"


(yawns, then chants with a hoarse croak) Namine. Jacobs. Vobiscuits. Amen"


(Foghorns stormily through his megaphone.) Dignam, Patrick T, deceased.


(With pricked up ears, winces.) Overtones. (He wriggles forward and places an ear to the ground.) My masters' voice!"


Burial docket letter number U.P. eightyfive thousand. Field seventeen. House of Keys. Plot, one hundred and one"

"Tom Rochford, robinredbreasted, in cap and breeches, jumps from his twocolumned machine.)


(A hand to his breastbone, bows.) Reuben J. A florin I find him. (He fixes the manhole with a resolute stare.) My turn now on."


[Image courtesy of Eamonn Finn]
"Follow me up to Carlow."


The song 'Follow Me up to Carlow' is a traditional tune (ca. 1500) with lyrics by Patrick Joseph McCall (1861 - 1919). It tells the story of the Battle of Glenmalure, one of the victories of the Irish over the English in the late 16c.
"(He executes a daredevil salmon leap in the air and is engulfed in the coalhole. Two discs on the columns wobble, eyes of nought. All recedes. Bloom plodges forward again through the sump. Kisses chirp amid the rifts of fog. A piano sounds. He stands before a lighted house, listening. The kisses, winging from their bowers fly about him, twittering, warbling, cooing.)"


(Warbling.) Leo! (Twittering.) Icky licky micky sticky for Leo! (Cooing.) Coo coocoo! Yummyyum, Womwom! (Warbling.) Big comebig! Pirouette! Leopopold! (Twittering.) Leeolee! (Warbling.) O Leo!

(They rustle, flutter upon his garments, alight, bright giddy flecks, silvery sequins.)


A man's touch. Sad music. Church music. Perhaps here."

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