"- As for his family, Stephen said, his mother's name lives in the forest of Arden. Her death brought from him the scene with Volumnia in Coriolanus." (U9.879)
"Who the girls in The Tempest, in Pericles, in Winter's Tale are we know. Who Cleopatra, fleshpot of Egypt, and Cressid and Venus are we may guess. But there is another member of his family who is recorded.
- The plot thickens, John Eglinton said.
The quaker librarian, quaking, tiptoed in, quake, his mask, quake, with haste, quake, quack.
Door closed. Cell. Day." (U9.882)
"They list. Three. They.
I you he they.
He had three brothers, Gilbert, Edmund, Richard. Gilbert in his old age told some cavaliers he got a pass for nowt from Maister Gatherer one time mass he did and he seen his brud Maister Wull the playwriter up in Lunnon in a wrastling play wud a man on's back. The playhouse sausage filled Gilbert's soul." (U9.890)
"He is nowhere: but an Edmund and a Richard are recorded in the works of sweet William." (U9.898)
"Cassiopeia, the recumbent constellation which is the signature of his initial among the stars." (U9.930)
"His eyes watched it, lowlying on the horizon, eastward of the bear, as he walked by the slumberous summer fields at midnight, returning from Shottery and from her arms." (U9.932)
"What more's to speak?
Stephen looked on his hat, his stick, his boots.
Stephanos, my crown. My sword. His boots are spoiling the shape of my feet. Buy a pair. Holes in my socks. Handkerchief too.
- You make good use of the name, John Eglinton allowed. Your own name is strange enough. I suppose it explains your fantastical humour.
Me, Magee and Mulligan." (U9.945)
"Fabulous artificer, the hawklike man. You flew. Whereto? Newhaven-Dieppe, steerage passenger." (U9.952)
"Paris and back." (U3.953)
"Lapwing. Icarus. Pater, ait. Seabedabbled, fallen, weltering. Lapwing you are. Lapwing be." (U9.953)
The back of the Ogden's card reads: "Lapwing (Vanellus Vulgaris). The Lapwing or Peewit, is essentially a moorland bird, being found all the year round on the bare heathery uplands. Its weird cry of "pee-wit" heard echoing over the bare moorlands at close of day strikes a remarkable sense of loneliness to the hearer. Its flight is much like that of the gull, swinging with slow beat of wing in wide circles. At times it rises rapidly in the air, and suddenly doubles back to earth, recovering itself before reaching the ground." This last characteristic, I think, is of relevance to Stephen.
"John Eglinton touched the foil.
- Come, he said. Let us hear what you have to say of Richard and Edmund. You kept them for the last, didn't you?
- In asking you to remember those two noble kinsmen nuncle Richie and nuncle Edmund, Stephen answered, I feel I am asking too much perhaps." (U9.970)
"I am tired of my voice, the voice of Esau. My kingdom for a drink.
"- You will say those names were already in the chronicles from which he took the stuff of his plays. Why did he take them rather than others? Richard, a whoreson crookback, misbegotten, makes love to a widowed Ann (what's in a name?), woos and wins her, a whoreson merry widow. Richard the conqueror, third brother, came after William the conquered. The other four acts of that play hang limply from that first. Of all his kings Richard is the only king unshielded by Shakespeare's reverence, the angel of the world. Why is the underplot of King Lear in which Edmund figures lifted out of Sidney's Arcadia and spatchcocked on to a Celtic legend older than history?" (U9.983)
"- That was Will's way, John Eglinton defended. We should not now combine a Norse saga with an excerpt from a novel by George Meredith. Que voulez-vous? Moore would say. He puts Bohemia on the seacoast and makes Ulysses quote Aristotle.
- Why? Stephen answered himself. Because the theme of the false or the usurping or the adulterous brother or all three in one is to Shakespeare, what the poor are not, always with him." (U9.993)