, dad) starts thinking.

LARRY O'ROURKE: An eightday licence for my new premises. You remember
me, sir Leo, when you were in number seven. I'm sending around a dozen
of stout for the missus.

BLOOM: _(Coldly)_ You have the advantage of me. Lady Bloom accepts no
presents.

CROFTON: This is indeed a festivity.

BLOOM: _(Solemnly)_ You call it a festivity. I call it a sacrament.

ALEXANDER KEYES: When will we have our own house of keys?

BLOOM: I stand for the reform of municipal morals and the plain ten
commandments. New worlds for old. Union of all, jew, moslem and gentile.
Three acres and a cow for all children of nature. Saloon motor hearses.
Compulsory manual labour for all. All parks open to the public day and
night. Electric dishscrubbers. Tuberculosis, lunacy, war and mendicancy
must now cease. General amnesty, weekly carnival with masked licence,
bonuses for all, esperanto the universal language with universal
brotherhood. No more patriotism of barspongers and dropsical impostors.
Free money, free rent, free love and a free lay church in a free lay
state.

O'MADDEN BURKE: Free fox in a free henroost.

DAVY BYRNE: _(Yawning)_ Iiiiiiiiiaaaaaaach!

BLOOM: Mixed races and mixed marriage.

LENEHAN: What about mixed bathing?

_(bloom explains to those near him his schemes for social regeneration.
All agree with him. The keeper of the Kildare Street Museum appears,
dragging a lorry on which are the shaking statues of several naked
goddesses, Venus Callipyge, Venus Pandemos, Venus Metempsychosis, and
plaster figures, also naked, representing the new nine muses, Commerce,
Operatic Music, Amor, Publicity, Manufacture, Liberty of Speech, Plural
Voting, Gastronomy, Private Hygiene, Seaside Concert Entertainments,
Painless Obstetrics and Astronomy for the People.)_

FATHER FARLEY: He is an episcopalian, an agnostic, an anythingarian
seeking to overthrow our holy faith.

MRS RIORDAN: _(Tears up her will)_ I'm disappointed in you! You bad man!

MOTHER GROGAN: _(Removes her boot to throw it at Bloom)_ You beast! You
abominable person!

NOSEY FLYNN: Give us a tune, Bloom. One of the old sweet songs.

BLOOM: _(With rollicking humour)_

I vowed that I never would leave her,
She turned out a cruel deceiver.
With my tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom.

HOPPY HOLOHAN: Good old Bloom! There's nobody like him after all.

PADDY LEONARD: Stage Irishman!

BLOOM: What railway opera is like a tram