nwards on the water)_ Thirtytwo head over heels per second.
Press nightmare. Giddy Elijah. Fall from cliff. Sad end of government
printer's clerk. _(Through silversilent summer air the dummy of Bloom,
rolled in a mummy, rolls roteatingly from the Lion's Head cliff into the
purple waiting waters.)_

THE DUMMYMUMMY: Bbbbblllllblblblblobschbg!

_(Far out in the bay between bailey and kish lights the_ Erin's King
_sails, sending a broadening plume of coalsmoke from her funnel towards
the land.)_

COUNCILLOR NANNETII: _(Alone on deck, in dark alpaca, yellowkitefaced,
his hand in his waistcoat opening, declaims)_ When my country takes her
place among the nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my
epitaph be written. I have...

BLOOM: Done. Prff!

THE NYMPH: _(Loftily)_ We immortals, as you saw today, have not such
a place and no hair there either. We are stonecold and pure. We eat
electric light. _(She arches her body in lascivious crispation, placing
her forefinger in her mouth)_ Spoke to me. Heard from behind. How then
could you...?

BLOOM: _(Pawing the heather abjectly)_ O, I have been a perfect pig.
Enemas too I have administered. One third of a pint of quassia to which
add a tablespoonful of rocksalt. Up the fundament. With Hamilton Long's
syringe, the ladies' friend.

THE NYMPH: In my presence. The powderpuff. _(She blushes and makes a
knee)_ And the rest!

BLOOM: _(Dejected)_ Yes. _Peccavi!_ I have paid homage on that living
altar where the back changes name. _(With sudden fervour)_ For why
should the dainty scented jewelled hand, the hand that rules...?

_(Figures wind serpenting in slow woodland pattern around the treestems,
cooeeing)_

THE VOICE OF KITTY: _(In the thicket)_ Show us one of them cushions.

THE VOICE OF FLORRY: Here.

_(A grouse wings clumsily through the underwood.)_

THE VOICE OF LYNCH: _(In the thicket)_ Whew! Piping hot!

THE VOICE OF ZOE: _(From the thicket)_ Came from a hot place.

THE VOICE OF VIRAG: _(A birdchief, bluestreaked and feathered in war
panoply with his assegai, striding through a crackling canebrake over
beechmast and acorns)_ Hot! Hot! Ware Sitting Bull!

BLOOM: It overpowers me. The warm impress of her warm form. Even to sit
where a woman has sat, especially with divaricated thighs, as though to
grant the last favours, most especially with previously well uplifted
white sateen coatpans. So womanly, full. It fills me full.

THE WATERFALL:

_P