"I, I and I. I.
A.E.I.O.U." (U9.212)
"- Do you mean to fly in the face of the tradition of three centuries? John Eglinton's carping voice asked. Her ghost at least has been laid for ever. She died, for literature at least, before she was born." (U9.214)
"- She died, Stephen retorted, sixtyseven years after she was born. She saw him into and out of the world. She took his first embraces. She bore his children and she laid pennies on his eyes to keep his eyelids closed when he lay on his deathbed." (U9.217)
"John Eglinton looked in the tangled glowworm of his lamp.
- The world believes that Shakespeare made a mistake, he said, and got out of it as quickly and as best he could.
- Bosh! Stephen said rudely. A man of genius makes no mistakes. His errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery." (U9.225)
"Portals of discovery opened to let in the quaker librarian, softcreakfooted, bald, eared and assiduous.
- A shrew, John Eglinton said shrewdly, is not a useful portal of discovery, one should imagine. What useful discovery did Socrates learn from Xanthippe?
- Dialectic, Stephen answered: and from his mother how to bring thoughts into the world. What he learnt from his other wife Myrto (absit nomen!), Socratididion's Epipsychidion, no man, not a woman, will ever know." (U9.230)

Xanthippe was the wife of Socrates. There are more stories than facts about her. She is believed to have been much younger than the philosopher, perhaps by as much as forty years. She was famed for her sharp tongue and is said to have been the only person to ever have beaten Socrates in a discussion.
"But neither the midwife's lore nor the caudlectures saved him from the archons of Sinn Fein and their naggin of hemlock." (U9.237)

'Mrs Caudle's Curtain Lectures' was a series of 'lectures' by journalist Douglas William Jerrold (1803 - 1857), serialised in Punch (where Jerrold worked) then published in book form in 1846. Jerrod, the son of an actor-manager, spent some time in the navy as an apprentice printer, then became a playwright and journalist. He was a contemporary and friend of Charles Dickens. Job Caudle, the 'hero' of the book, is a Victorian shopkeeper whose wife finds she can only talk to him without interruption when he is falling asleep. After she dies, Caudle finds himself unable to sleep on his own, and resolves to exorcise his wife's memory by writing down her 'lectures' for the edification of others.
"- But Ann Hathaway? Mr Best's quiet voice said forgetfully. Yes, we seem to be forgetting her as Shakespeare himself forgot her.
His look went from brooder's beard to carper's skull, to remind, to chide them not unkindly, then to the baldpink lollard costard, guiltless though maligned." (U9.240)
"- He had a good groatsworth of wit, Stephen said, and no truant memory. He carried a memory in his wallet as he trudged to Romeville whistling The girl I left behind me.
If the earthquake did not time it we should know where to place poor Wat, sitting in his form, the cry of hounds, the studded bridle and her blue windows. That memory, Venus and Adonis, lay in the bedchamber of every light-of-love in London." (U9.245)
"Is Katharine the shrew illfavoured? Hortensio calls her young and beautiful. Do you think the writer of Antony and Cleopatra, a passionate pilgrim, had his eyes in the back of his head that he chose the ugliest doxy in all Warwickshire to lie withal? Good: he left her and gained the world of men. But his boywomen are the women of a boy. Their life, thought, speech are lent them by males. He chose badly? He was chosen, it seems to me." (U9.250)
"If others have their will Ann hath a way. By cock, she was to blame. She put the comether on him, sweet and twentysix. The greyeyed goddess who bends over the boy Adonis, stooping to conquer, as prologue to the swelling act, is a boldfaced Stratford wench who tumbles in a cornfield a lover younger than herself." (U9.256)
"And my turn? When?
Come!
- Ryefield, Mr Best said brightly, gladly, raising his new book, gladly, brightly." (U9.261)
"- Are you going? John Eglinton's active eyebrows asked. Shall we see you at Moore's tonight? Piper is coming.
- Piper! Mr Best piped. Is Piper back?
Peter Piper pecked a peck of pick of peck of pickled pepper.
- I don't know if I can. Thursday. We have our meeting. If I can get away in time." (U9.273)
"— They say we are to have a literary surprise, the quaker librarian said, friendly and earnest. Mr Russell, rumour has it, is gathering together a sheaf of our younger poets' verses. We are all looking forward anxiously.
Anxiously he glanced in the cone of lamplight where three faces, lighted, shone.
See this. Remember." (U9.289)
"Stephen looked down on a wide headless caubeen, hung on his ashplanthandle over his knee. My casque and sword. Touch lightly with two index fingers. Aristotle's experiment. One or two? Necessity is that in virtue of which it is impossible that one can be otherwise. Argal, one hat is one hat.
Listen.
Young Colum and Starkey. George Roberts is doing the commercial part. Longworth will give it a good puff in the Express. O, will he? I liked Colum's Drover. Yes, I think he has that queer thing genius. Do you think he has genius really? Yeats admired his line: As in wild earth a Grecian vase. Did he? I hope you'll be able to come tonight. Malachi Mulligan is coming too. Moore asked him to bring Haines." (U12.295)
"Did you hear Miss Mitchell's joke about Moore and Martyn? That Moore is Martyn's wild oats? Awfully clever, isn't it? They remind one of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. Our national epic has yet to be written, Dr Sigerson says. Moore is the man for it. A knight of the rueful countenance here in Dublin. With a saffron kilt? O'Neill Russell? O, yes, he must speak the grand old tongue. And his Dulcinea? James Stephens is doing some clever sketches. We are becoming important, it seems." (U9.306)

(Image courtesy of the ZJJF)
"Cordelia. Cordoglio. Lir's loneliest daughter.
Nookshotten. Now your best French polish.
- Thank you very much, Mr Russell, Stephen said, rising. If you will be so kind as to give the letter to Mr Norman...
- O, yes. If he considers it important it will go in. We have so much correspondence.
- I understand, Stephen said. Thanks.
Good ild you. The pigs' paper. Bullockbefriending." (U9.314)
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