and the king of England, have invented arbitration. (HE TAPS HIS BROW)
But in here it is I must kill the priest and the king.

BIDDY THE CLAP: Did you hear what the professor said? He's a professor
out of the college.

CUNTY KATE: I did. I heard that.

BIDDY THE CLAP: He expresses himself with such marked refinement of
phraseology.

CUNTY KATE: Indeed, yes. And at the same time with such apposite
trenchancy.

PRIVATE CARR: (PULLS HIMSELF FREE AND COMES FORWARD) What's that you're
saying about my king?

(EDWARD THE SEVENTH APPEARS IN AN ARCHWAY. HE WARS A WHITE JERSEY ON
WHICH AN IMAGE OF THE SACRED HEART IS STITCHED WITH THE INSIGNIA OF
GARTER AND THISTLE, GOLDEN FLEECE, ELEPHANT OF DENMARK, SKINNER'S AND
PROBYN'S HORSE, LINCOLN'S INN BENCHER AND ANCIENT AND HONOURABLE
ARTILLERY COMPANY OF MASSACHUSETTS. HE SUCKS A RED JUJUBE. HE IS ROBED AS
A GRAND ELECT PERFECT AND SUBLIME MASON WITH TROWEL AND APRON, MARKED
made in Germany. IN HIS LEFT HAND HE HOLDS A PLASTERER'S BUCKET ON WHICH
IS PRINTED Defense d'uriner. A ROAR OF WELCOME GREETS HIM.)

EDWARD THE SEVENTH: (SLOWLY, SOLEMNLY BUT INDISTINCTLY) Peace, perfect
peace. For identification, bucket in my hand. Cheerio, boys. (HE TURNS TO
HIS SUBJECTS) We have come here to witness a clean straight fight and we
heartily wish both men the best of good luck. Mahak makar a bak.

(HE SHAKES HANDS WITH PRIVATE CARR, PRIVATE COMPTON, STEPHEN, BLOOM AND
LYNCH. GENERAL APPLAUSE. EDWARD THE SEVENTH LIFTS HIS BUCKET GRACIOUSLY
IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT.)

PRIVATE CARR: (TO STEPHEN) Say it again.

STEPHEN: (NERVOUS, FRIENDLY, PULLS HIMSELF UP) I understand your point of
view though I have no king myself for the moment. This is the age of
patent medicines. A discussion is difficult down here. But this is the
point. You die for your country. Suppose. (HE PLACES HIS ARM ON PRIVATE
CARR'S SLEEVE) Not that I wish it for you. But I say: Let my country die
for me. Up to the present it has done so. I didn't want it to die. Damn
death. Long live life!

EDWARD THE SEVENTH: (LEVITATES OVER HEAPS OF SLAIN, IN THE GARB AND WITH
THE HALO OF JOKING JESUS, A WHITE JUJUBE IN HIS PHOSPHORESCENT FACE)


My methods are new and are causing surprise.
To make the blind see I throw dust in their eyes.


STEPHEN: Kings and unicorns! (HE FILLS BACK A PACE) Come somewhere and
we'll ... What was that girl saying? ...

PRIVATE COMPTON: Eh, Harry, give him a kick in the knackers. Stick one
into Jerry.

BLOOM: (TO THE PRIVATES, SOFTLY) He doesn't know what he's saying. Taken
a little more than is good for him. Absinthe. Greeneyed monster. I know
him. He's a gentleman, a poet. It's all right.

STEPHEN: (NODS, SMILING AND LAUGHING) Gentleman, patriot, scholar and
judge of impostors.

PRIVATE CARR: I don't give a bugger who he is.

PRIVATE COMPTON: We don't give a bugger who he is.

STEPHEN: I seem to annoy them. Green rag to a bull.

(KEVIN EGAN OF PARIS IN BLACK SPANISH TASSELLED SHIRT AND PEEP-O'-DAY
BOY'S HAT SIGNS TO STEPHEN.)

KEVIN EGAN: H'lo! BONJOUR! The VIEILLE OGRESSE with the DENTS JAUNES.

(PATRICE EGAN PEEPS FROM BEHIND, HIS RABBITFACE NIBBLING A QUINCE LEAF.)

PATRICE: SOCIALISTE!

DON EMILE PATRIZIO FRANZ RUPERT POPE HENNESSY: (IN MEDIEVAL HAUBERK, TWO
WILD GEESE VOLANT ON HIS HELM, WITH NOBLE INDIGNATION POINTS A MAILED
HAND AGAINST THE PRIVATES) Werf those eykes to footboden, big grand
porcos of johnyellows todos covered of gravy!

BLOOM: (TO STEPHEN) Come home. You'll get into trouble.

STEPHEN: (SWAYING) I don't avoid it. He provokes my intelligence.

BIDDY THE CLAP: One immediately observes that he is of patrician lineage.

THE VIRAGO: Green above the red, says he. Wolfe Tone.

THE BAWD: The red's as good as the green. And better. Up the soldiers! Up
King Edward!

A ROUGH: (LAUGHS) Ay! Hands up to De Wet.

THE CITIZEN: (WITH A HUGE EMERALD MUFFLER AND SHILLELAGH, CALLS)


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