(A choir of six hundred voices, conducted by Vincent O’BRIEN, sings the
chorus from Handel’s messiah alleluia for the lord god omnipotent
reigneth, accompanied on the organ by Joseph Glynn.  Bloom becomes mute,
shrunken, carbonised.)

Zoe:  Talk away till you’re black in the face.

Bloom:  (In caubeen with clay pipe stuck in the band, dusty brogues, an emigrant’s red handkerchief bundle in his hand, leading A black bogoak pig by A SUGAUN, with A smile in his eye) Let me be going now, woman of the house, for by all the goats in Connemara I’m after having the father and mother of a bating. (With A tear in his eye) All insanity.  Patriotism, sorrow for the dead, music, future of the race.  To be or not to be.  Life’s dream is o’er.  End it peacefully.  They can live on. (He gazes far away mournfully) I am ruined.  A few pastilles of aconite.  The blinds drawn.  A letter.  Then lie back to rest. (He breathes softly) No more.  I have lived.  Fare.  Farewell.

Zoe:  (Stiffly, her finger in her NECKFILLET) Honest?  Till the next time.  (She sneers) Suppose you got up the wrong side of the bed or came too quick with your best girl.  O, I can read your thoughts!

Bloom:  (Bitterly) Man and woman, love, what is it?  A cork and bottle.  I’m sick of it.  Let everything rip.

Zoe:  (In sudden sulks) I hate a rotter that’s insincere.  Give a bleeding whore a chance.

Bloom:  (Repentantly) I am very disagreeable.  You are a necessary evil.  Where are you from?  London?

Zoe:  (Glibly) Hog’s Norton where the pigs plays the organs.  I’m Yorkshire born. (She holds his hand which is feeling for her nipple) I say, Tommy Tittlemouse.  Stop that and begin worse.  Have you cash for a short time?  Ten shillings?

Bloom:  (Smiles, nods slowly) More, houri, more.

Zoe:  And more’s mother? (She pats him offhandedly with Velvet paws) Are you coming into the musicroom to see our new pianola?  Come and I’ll peel off.

Bloom:  (Feeling his occiput dubiously with the unparalleled embarrassment of A harassed pedlar gauging the symmetry of her peeled pears) Somebody would be dreadfully jealous if she knew.  The greeneyed monster.  (Earnestly) You know how difficult it is.  I needn’t tell you.