"Didn't catch me napping that wheeze. The quick touch. Soft mark. I'd like my job. Valise I have a particular fancy for. Leather. Capped corners, rivetted edges, double action lever lock. Bob Cowley lent him his for the Wicklow regatta concert last year and never heard tidings of it from that good day to this." (U5.178)
"Mr Bloom, strolling towards Brunswick street, smiled. My missus has just got an. Reedy freckled soprano. Cheeseparing nose. Nice enough in its way: for a little ballad. No guts in it. You and me, don't you know: in the same boat. Softsoaping. Give you the needle that would. Can't he hear the difference? Think he's that way inclined a bit. Against my grain somehow." (U5.183)
"Thought that Belfast would fetch him. I hope that smallpox up there doesn't get worse. Suppose she wouldn't let herself be vaccinated again. Your wife and my wife.
Wonder is he pimping after me?" (U5.188)

(Image courtesy of the ZJJF)
"Mr Bloom stood at the corner, his eyes wandering over the multicoloured hoardings. Cantrell and Cochrane's Ginger Ale (Aromatic)." (U5.192)
"Clery's Summer Sale. No, he's going on straight." (U5.194)

(Image courtesy of the ZJJF)
"Leah tonight: Mrs Bandmann Palmer. Like to see again her in that. Hamlet she played last night." (U5.194)

The Illustrated London News (July 1st, 1899) comments: "Mrs. Bandmann Palmer confesses to having studied Shakspere's tragedy from the age of fifteen, but only summoned up courage to appear as the distraught Prince since 1895. Since then she has played it some 270 times, and bids fair to hold a woman's record in the role. Making little or no pretence at aping masculinity, she offers her Hamlet rather as a psychological study than a vivid impersonation. For hours before Mrs. Bandmann Palmer appears in the part, she communes with herself in solitude."
The Freeman's Journal reviewed the June 15 performance of Hamlet at the Gaiety Theatre. The reviewer thought Mrs. Bandmann-Palmer played the Prince of Denmark 'creditably' but was critical of the ghost and of the musical score.
"Male impersonator." (U5.196)

In addition to Mrs. Bandmann Palmer, numerous female actresses played Hamlet, most famously the French tragedienne Sarah Bernhardt (1844 - 1923). This photo was taken by Lafayette during her performance of Hamlet (in a French version by Eugene Morand and Marcel Schwab) at the Adelphi Theatre in 1899. Other Hamlet 'male impersonators' included Miss Winetta Montague, Miss Clare Howard, Miss Hanette Steer, Miss Mariott, Miss Louise Pomeroy, Miss Charlotte Compton, Miss Julia Seaman, and Miss Oliph Webb (ILN 1899).
"Perhaps he was a woman. Why Ophelia committed suicide." (U8.196)
"Poor papa! How he used to talk about Kate Bateman in that." (U5.197)

Kate Josephine Bateman (1842 - 1917) was an American actress. She was born in Baltimore, MD, the daughter of Hezekiah Linthicum Bateman (an actor and theatrical manager) and an actress mother. A child prodigy, she started on stage around the age of 5 in Louisville, KY, together with her sister Ellen. Between 1851 - 1854, they toured under the management of P.T. Barnum. After she outgrew her childhood career and matured as an actress, Kate achieved great success in the title role of 'Evangeline', a dramatization of Longfellow's poem (1860), and as Julia in Sheridan Knowles' 'The Hunchback' (1862). Her most famous role however was Leah in 'Leah the Forsaken', a play adapted specifically for her by Augustine Daly from a melodrama then popular in Vienna. Despite harsh reviews by critics, the play opened to an enthusiastic public in New York (1863). It remained Bateman's primary dramatic vehicle for many years. After 1892, she led a school of acting in London, and played minor roles. This CDV shows Kate Bateman as Leah around the time Rudolph saw her in London.
"Outside the Adelphi in London waited all the afternoon to get in. Year before I was born that was: sixtyfive." (U5.198)

The Adelphi Theatre is a 1500-seat theatre located on The Strand in the West End of London. It was founded in 1806 as the Sans Pareil (= Peerless). In 1819 it took on its present name from the Adelphi Buildings opposite. Actor William Terriss was stabbed to death in the theatre in 1897, and it is said that his ghost haunts the place. Terriss's daughter Ellaline and her husband Seymour Hicks managed the Adelphi for some years. It was bought in 1993 by Andrew Lloyd Webber.
"And Ristori in Vienna. What is this the right name is? By Mosenthal it is." (U5.199)

Adelaide Ristori (1822 - 1906), often referred to as the Marquise, was a distinguished Italian tragedienne. Her famous roles included Mary Stuart, Myrrha, Medea, Phaedra, Lady Macbeth, and Queen Elizabeth. The daughter of strolling players, she started on the stage as a child, and became quite famous in Italy. In 1855, she moved to France, and stirred great passions as a rival to the French actress Rachel; playgoers fought at gallery doors over the merits of their respective favourites. In 1856, she started a European tour including London, Madrid (and I presume Vienna). In 1866 she paid the first of four visits to the USA. She retired from professional life in 1885. This is an autographed card; such cards were sometimes handed out in the theater lobby to adoring fans after a performance.
"Rachel, is it? No." (U5.200)

The play is 'Leah the Forsaken' (1863) by Augustin Daly, loosely translated and adapted from the German drama 'Deborah' by Salomon Hermann von Mosenthal. It takes place in 17c. Germany, and deals with the love of the Jewess Leah (Kate Bateman) for a young Christian farmer, Rudolf (Edwin Adams). The play gave Daly his first success and started him on a distinguished career. It also gave Kate Bateman her signature role.

In the Bible, Leah and Rachel were sisters, daughters of Laban, and wives of Jacob (Rachel being the favorite). Their story is told in Genesis 29-35.
"The scene he was always talking about where the old blind Abraham recognises the voice and puts his fingers on his face." (U5.200)
"Nathan's voice! His son's voice! I hear the voice of Nathan who left his father to die of grief and misery in my arms, who left the house of his father and left the God of his father.
Every word is so deep, Leopold.
Poor papa! Poor man! I'm glad I didn't go into the room to look at his face. That day! O dear! O dear! Ffoo! Well, perhaps it was the best for him." (U5.203)
"Mr Bloom went round the corner and passed the drooping nags of the hazard. No use thinking of it any more. Nosebag time. Wish I hadn't met that M'Coy fellow.
He came nearer and heard a crunching of gilded oats, the gently champing teeth. Their full buck eyes regarded him as he went by, amid the sweet oaten reek of horsepiss. Their Eldorado. Poor jugginses!" (U5.210)
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