eally?

THE NAMELESS ONE: _(Snarls)_ Arse over tip. Hundred shillings to five.

THE JURORS: _(All their heads lowered in assent)_ Most of us thought as
much.

FIRST WATCH: He is a marked man. Another girl's plait cut. Wanted: Jack
the Ripper. A thousand pounds reward.

SECOND WATCH: _(Awed, whispers)_ And in black. A mormon. Anarchist.

THE CRIER: _(Loudly)_ Whereas Leopold Bloom of no fixed abode is a
wellknown dynamitard, forger, bigamist, bawd and cuckold and a public
nuisance to the citizens of Dublin and whereas at this commission of
assizes the most honourable...

_(His Honour, sir Frederick Falkiner, recorder of Dublin, in judicial
garb of grey stone rises from the bench, stonebearded. He bears in his
arms an umbrella sceptre. From his forehead arise starkly the Mosaic
ramshorns.)_

THE RECORDER: I will put an end to this white slave traffic and rid
Dublin of this odious pest. Scandalous! _(He dons the black cap)_ Let
him be taken, Mr Subsheriff, from the dock where he now stands and
detained in custody in Mountjoy prison during His Majesty's pleasure
and there be hanged by the neck until he is dead and therein fail not
at your peril or may the Lord have mercy on your soul. Remove him. _(A
black skullcap descends upon his head.)_

_(The subsheriff Long John Fanning appears, smoking a pungent Henry
Clay.)_

LONG JOHN FANNING: _(Scowls and calls with rich rolling utterance)_
Who'll hang Judas Iscariot?

_(H. Rumbold, master barber, in a bloodcoloured jerkin and tanner's
apron, a rope coiled over his shoulder, mounts the block. A life
preserver and a nailstudded bludgeon are stuck in his belt. He rubs
grimly his grappling hands, knobbed with knuckledusters.)_

RUMBOLD: _(To the recorder with sinister familiarity)_ Hanging Harry,
your Majesty, the Mersey terror. Five guineas a jugular. Neck or
nothing.

_(The bells of George's church toll slowly, loud dark iron.)_

THE BELLS: Heigho! Heigho!

BLOOM: _(Desperately)_ Wait. Stop. Gulls. Good heart. I saw. Innocence.
Girl in the monkeyhouse. Zoo. Lewd chimpanzee. _(Breathlessly)_ Pelvic
basin. Her artless blush unmanned me. _(Overcome with emotion)_ I left
the precincts. (He turns to a figure in the crowd, appealing) Hynes, may
I speak to you? You know me. That three shillings you can keep. If you
want a little more...

HYNES: _(Coldly)_ You are a perfect stranger.

SECOND WATCH: _(Points to the corner)_ The bomb is here.

FIRST WATCH: Infernal mac