"Lotty Clarke, flaxenhaired, I saw at her night toilette through illclosed curtains with poor papa's operaglasses: The wanton ate grass wildly. She rolled downhill at Rialto bridge to tempt me with her flow of animal spirits. She climbed their crooked tree and I. A saint couldn't resist it. The demon possessed me. Besides, who saw?" (U15.3355)
"(Staggering Bob, a whitepolled calf, thrusts a ruminating head with humid nostrils through the foliage.)
(Large teardrops rolling from his prominent eyes, snivels.) Me. Me see."
Simply satisfying a need I... (With pathos.) No girl would when I went girling. Too ugly. They wouldn't play..."
"(High on Ben Howth through rhododendrons a nannygoat passes, plumpuddered, buttytailed, dropping currants.)
(Bleats.) Megeggaggegg! Nannannanny!"
"(Through silversilent summer air the dummy of Bloom, rolled in a mummy, rolls roteatingly from the Lion's Head cliff into the purple waiting waters.)
"(Far out in the bay between Bailey and Kish lights the Erin's King sails, sending a broadening plume of coalsmoke from her funnel towards the land.)"
(alone on deck, in dark alpaca, yellowkitefaced, his hand in his waistcoat opening, declaims) When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my epitaph be written. I have ...
Image of Robert Emmett used by kind permission of Tim & Christine O'Neill.
(Loftily.) We immortals, as you saw today, have not such a place and no hair there either. We are stonecold and pure."
"We eat electric light. (She arches her body in lascivious crispation, placing her forefinger in her mouth.) Spoke to me. Heard from behind. How then could you...?"
(Pacing the heather abjectly.) O I have been a perfect pig."
"Enemas too I have administered. One third of a pint of quassia, to which add a tablespoonful of rocksalt. Up the fundament."
"With Hamilton Long's syringe, the ladies' friend."
In my presence. The powderpuff. (she blushes and makes a knee) And the rest!
(dejected) Yes. Peccavi!"
"I have paid homage on that living altar where the back changes name. (with sudden fervour) For why should the dainty scented jewelled hand, the hand that rules ...?
(Figures wind serpenting in slow woodland pattern around the treestems, cooeeing)
THE VOICE OF KITTY
(in the thicket) Show us one of them cushions.
THE VOICE OF FLORRY
"(A grouse wings clumsily through the underwood.)"
"THE VOICE OF LYNCH
(In the thicket.) Whew! Piping hot!
THE VOICE OF ZOE
(In the thicket.) Came from a hot place.
THE VOICE OF VIRAG
(A birdchief, bluestreaked and feathered in war panoply with his assegai, striding through a crackling canebrake over beechmast and acorns.) Hot! Hot! Ware Sitting Bull!"