iel O'Connell, Michael Davitt against Isaac Butt,
Justin M'Carthy against Parnell, Arthur Griffith against John Redmond,
John O'Leary against Lear O'Johnny, Lord Edward Fitzgerald against Lord
Gerald Fitzedward, The O'Donoghue of the Glens against The Glens of The
O'Donoghue. On an eminence, the centre of the earth, rises the feldaltar
of Saint Barbara. Black candles rise from its gospel and epistle horns.
From the high barbacans of the tower two shafts of light fall on the
smokepalled altarstone. On the altarstone Mrs Mina Purefoy, goddess of
unreason, lies, naked, fettered, a chalice resting on her swollen belly.
Father Malachi O'Flynn in a lace petticoat and reversed chasuble, his
two left feet back to the front, celebrates camp mass. The Reverend Mr
Hugh C Haines Love M. A. in a plain cassock and mortarboard, his head
and collar back to the front, holds over the celebrant's head an open
umbrella.)_

FATHER MALACHI O'FLYNN: _Introibo ad altare diaboli._

THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE: To the devil which hath made glad my young
days.

FATHER MALACHI O'FLYNN: _(Takes from the chalice and elevates a
blooddripping host) Corpus meum._

THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE: _(Raises high behind the celebrant's
petticoat, revealing his grey bare hairy buttocks between which a carrot
is stuck)_ My body.

THE VOICE OF ALL THE DAMNED: Htengier Tnetopinmo Dog Drol eht rof,
Aiulella!

_(From on high the voice of Adonai calls.)_

ADONAI: Dooooooooooog!

THE VOICE OF ALL THE BLESSED: Alleluia, for the Lord God Omnipotent
reigneth!

_(From on high the voice of Adonai calls.)_

ADONAI: Goooooooooood!

_(In strident discord peasants and townsmen of Orange and Green factions
sing_ Kick the Pope _and_ Daily, daily sing to Mary.)

PRIVATE CARR: _(With ferocious articulation)_ I'll do him in, so help me
fucking Christ! I'll wring the bastard fucker's bleeding blasted fucking
windpipe!

OLD GUMMY GRANNY: _(Thrusts a dagger towards Stephen's hand)_ Remove
him, acushla. At 8.35 a.m. you will be in heaven and Ireland will be
free. _(She prays)_ O good God, take him!

(THE RETRIEVER, NOSING ON THE FRINGE OF THE CROWD, BARKS NOISILY.)

BLOOM: _(Runs to lynch)_ Can't you get him away?

LYNCH: He likes dialectic, the universal language. Kitty! _(To Bloom)_
Get him away, you. He won't listen to me.

_(He drags Kitty away.)_

STEPHEN: _(Points) exit Judas. Et laqueo se suspendit._

BLOOM: _(Runs to Stephen)_ Come along with me now b