s.

VIRAG: _(His mouth projected in hard wrinkles, eyes stonily forlornly
closed, psalms in outlandish monotone)_ That the cows with their those
distended udders that they have been the the known...

BLOOM: I am going to scream. I beg your pardon. Ah? So. _(He repeats)_
Spontaneously to seek out the saurian's lair in order to entrust their
teats to his avid suction. Ant milks aphis. _(Profoundly)_ Instinct
rules the world. In life. In death.

VIRAG: _(Head askew, arches his back and hunched wingshoulders, peers
at the moth out of blear bulged eyes, points a horning claw and cries)_
Who's moth moth? Who's dear Gerald? Dear Ger, that you? O dear, he is
Gerald. O, I much fear he shall be most badly burned. Will some pleashe
pershon not now impediment so catastrophics mit agitation of firstclass
tablenumpkin? _(He mews)_ Puss puss puss puss! _(He sighs, draws back
and stares sideways down with dropping underjaw)_ Well, well. He doth
rest anon. (He snaps his jaws suddenly on the air)

THE MOTH:

I'm a tiny tiny thing
Ever flying in the spring
Round and round a ringaring.
Long ago I was a king
Now I do this kind of thing
On the wing, on the wing!
Bing!

_(He rushes against the mauve shade, flapping noisily)_ Pretty pretty
pretty pretty pretty pretty petticoats.

_(From left upper entrance with two gliding steps Henry Flower comes
forward to left front centre. He wears a dark mantle and drooping plumed
sombrero. He carries a silverstringed inlaid dulcimer and a longstemmed
bamboo Jacob's pipe, its clay bowl fashioned as a female head. He wears
dark velvet hose and silverbuckled pumps. He has the romantic Saviour's
face with flowing locks, thin beard and moustache. His spindlelegs and
sparrow feet are those of the tenor Mario, prince of Candia. He settles
down his goffered ruffs and moistens his lips with a passage of his
amorous tongue.)_

HENRY: _(In a low dulcet voice, touching the strings of his guitar)_
There is a flower that bloometh.

_(Virag truculent, his jowl set, stares at the lamp. Grave Bloom regards
Zoe's neck. Henry gallant turns with pendant dewlap to the piano.)_

STEPHEN: _(To himself)_ Play with your eyes shut. Imitate pa. Filling my
belly with husks of swine. Too much of this. I will arise and go to my.
Expect this is the. Steve, thou art in a parlous way. Must visit old
Deasy or telegraph. Our interview of this morning has left on me a deep
impression. Thou