This eBook is designed and published by Planet pdf. For more free

Ulysses 

921 

of

 1305 

VOICES:  (Sighing) So he’s gone. Ah yes. Yes, indeed. 

Bloom? Never heard of him. No? Queer kind of chap. 

There’s the widow. That so? Ah, yes. 

(From the suttee pyre the flame of gum camphire ascends. The 

pall of incense smoke screens and disperses. Out of her oakframe a 

nymph with hair unbound, lightly clad in teabrown artcolours, 

descends from her grotto and passing under interlacing yews stands 

over Bloom.) 

THE YEWS: (Their leaves whispering) Sister. Our sister. 

Ssh! 

THE NYMPH: (Softly) Mortal! (Kindly) Nay, dost not 

weepest! 

BLOOM: (Crawls jellily forward under the boughs, streaked 

by sunlight, with dignity) This position. I felt it was expected 

of me. Force of habit. 

THE NYMPH: Mortal! You found me in evil 

company, highkickers, coster picnicmakers, pugilists, 

popular generals, immoral panto boys in fleshtights and the 

nifty shimmy dancers, La Aurora and Karini, musical act, 

the hit of the century. I was hidden in cheap pink paper 

that smelt of rock oil. I was surrounded by the stale smut 

of clubmen, stories to disturb callow youth, ads for 

transparencies, truedup dice and bustpads, proprietary 

---

Ulysses 

922 

of

 1305 

articles and why wear a truss with testimonial from 

ruptured gentleman. Useful hints to the married. 

BLOOM:  (Lifts a turtle head towards her lap) We have 

met before. On another star. 

THE NYMPH: (Sadly) Rubber goods. Neverrip brand 

as supplied to the aristocracy. Corsets for men. I cure fits 

or money refunded. Unsolicited testimonials for Professor 

Waldmann’s wonderful chest exuber. My bust developed 

four inches in three weeks, reports Mrs Gus Rublin with 

photo. 

BLOOM: You mean Photo Bits? 

THE NYMPH: I do. You bore me away, framed me 

in oak and tinsel, set me above your marriage couch. 

Unseen, one summer eve, you kissed me in four places. 

And with loving pencil you shaded my eyes, my bosom 

and my shame. 

BLOOM:  (Humbly kisses her long hair) Your classic 

curves, beautiful immortal, I was glad to look on you, to 

praise you, a thing of beauty, almost to pray. 

THE NYMPH: During dark nights I heard your praise. 

BLOOM: (Quickly) Yes, yes. You mean that I ... Sleep 

reveals the worst side of everyone, children perhaps 

excepted. I know I fell out of bed or rather was pushed. 

Steel wine is said to cure snoring. For the rest there is that 

---

Ulysses 

923 

of

 1305 

English invention, pamphlet of which I received some 

days ago, incorrectly addressed. It claims to afford a 

noiseless, inoffensive vent. (He sighs) ‘Twas ever thus. 

Frailty, thy name is marriage. 

THE NYMPH: (Her fingers in her ears) And words. 

They are not in my dictionary. 

BLOOM: You understood them? 

THE YEWS: Ssh! 

THE NYMPH: (Covers her face with her hands) What 

have I not seen in that chamber? What must my eyes look 

down on? 

BLOOM: (Apologetically) I know. Soiled personal linen, 

wrong side up with care. The quoits are loose. From 

Gibraltar by long sea long ago. 

THE NYMPH: (Bends her head) Worse, worse! 

BLOOM:  (Reflects precautiously) That antiquated 

commode. It wasn’t her weight. She scaled just eleven 

stone nine. She put on nine pounds after weaning. It was a 

crack and want of glue. Eh? And that absurd orangekeyed 

utensil which has only one handle. 

(The sound of a waterfall is heard in bright cascade.) 

THE WATERFALL: 

---

Ulysses 

924 

of

 1305 

Poulaphouca Poulaphouca 

Poulaphouca Poulaphouca.  

THE YEWS: (Mingling their boughs) Listen. Whisper. She is 

right, our sister. We grew by Poulaphouca waterfall. We 

gave shade on languorous summer days.  

JOHN WYSE NOLAN: (In the background, in Irish 

National Forester’s uniform, doffs his plumed hat) Prosper! 

Give shade on languorous days, trees of Ireland! 

THE YEWS: (Murmuring) Who came to Poulaphouca 

with the High School excursion? Who left his nutquesting 

classmates to seek our shade? 

BLOOM: (Scared) High School of Poula? Mnemo? Not 

in full possession of faculties. Concussion. Run over by 

tram. 

THE ECHO: Sham! 

BLOOM:  (Pigeonbreasted, bottleshouldered, padded, in 

nondescript juvenile grey and black striped suit, too small for him, 

white tennis shoes, bordered stockings with turnover tops and a 

red schoolcap with badge) I was in my teens, a growing boy. 

A little then sufficed, a jolting car, the mingling odours of 

the ladies’ cloakroom and lavatory, the throng penned 

tight on the old Royal stairs (for they love crushes, instinct 

of the herd, and the dark sexsmelling theatre unbridles 

vice), even a pricelist of their hosiery. And then the heat. 

---

Ulysses 

925 

of

 1305 

There were sunspots that summer. End of school. And 

tipsycake. Halcyon days. 

(Halcyon days, high school boys in blue and white football 

jerseys and shorts, Master Donald Turnbull, Master Abraham 

Chatterton, Master Owen Goldberg, Master Jack Meredith, 

Master Percy Apjohn, stand in a clearing of the trees and shout to 

Master Leopold Bloom.) 

THE HALCYON DAYS: Mackerel! Live us again. 

Hurray! (They cheer) 

BLOOM:  (Hobbledehoy, warmgloved, mammamufflered, 

starred with spent snowballs, struggles to rise) Again! I feel 

sixteen! What a lark! Let’s ring all the bells in Montague 

street. (He cheers feebly) Hurray for the High School! 

THE ECHO: Fool! 

THE YEWS: (Rustling) She is right, our sister. 

Whisper. (Whispered kisses are heard in all the wood. Faces of 

hamadryads peep out from the boles and among the leaves and 

break, blossoming into bloom.) Who profaned our silent 

shade? 

THE NYMPH: (Coyly, through parting fingers) There? In 

the open air? 

THE YEWS: (Sweeping downward) Sister, yes. And on 

our virgin sward. 

THE WATERFALL: 

---