instinct of the herd, and the dark sexsmelling theatre unbridles
vice), even a pricelist of their hosiery. And then the heat. There were
sunspots that summer. End of school. And tipsycake. Halcyon days.

_(Halcyon days, high school boys in blue and white football jerseys and
shorts, Master Donald Turnbull, Master Abraham Chatterton, Master Owen
Goldberg, Master Jack Meredith, Master Percy Apjohn, stand in a clearing
of the trees and shout to Master Leopold Bloom.)_

THE HALCYON DAYS: Mackerel! Live us again. Hurray! _(They cheer)_

BLOOM: _(Hobbledehoy, warmgloved, mammamufflered, starred with spent
snowballs, struggles to rise)_ Again! I feel sixteen! What a lark! Let's
ring all the bells in Montague street. _(He cheers feebly)_ Hurray for
the High School!

THE ECHO: Fool!

THE YEWS: _(Rustling)_ She is right, our sister. Whisper. _(Whispered
kisses are heard in all the wood. Faces of hamadryads peep out from
the boles and among the leaves and break, blossoming into bloom.)_ Who
profaned our silent shade?

THE NYMPH: _(Coyly, through parting fingers)_ There? In the open air?

THE YEWS: _(Sweeping downward)_ Sister, yes. And on our virgin sward.

THE WATERFALL:

Poulaphouca Poulaphouca
Phoucaphouca Phoucaphouca.

THE NYMPH: _(With wide fingers)_ O, infamy!

BLOOM: I was precocious. Youth. The fauna. I sacrificed to the god of
the forest. The flowers that bloom in the spring. It was pairing
time. Capillary attraction is a natural phenomenon. 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?

_(Staggering Bob, a whitepolled calf, thrusts a ruminating head with
humid nostrils through the foliage.)_

STAGGERING BOB: (LARGE TEARDROPS ROLLING FROM HIS PROMINENT EYES,
SNIVELS) Me. Me see.

BLOOM: 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.)_

THE NANNYGOAT: _(Bleats)_ Megeggaggegg! Nannannanny!

BLOOM: _(Hatless, flushed, covered with burrs of thistledown and
gorsespine)_ Regularly engaged. Circumstances alter cases. _(He gazes
intently dow