and down, mopping, chanting with waving graceful arms:
―The most beautiful book that has come out of our country in my time. One thinks of Homer.
He stopped at the stairfoot.
―I have conceived a play for the mummers, he said solemnly.
The pillared Moorish hall, shadows entwined. Gone the nine men’s morrice with caps of indices.
In sweetly varying voices Buck Mulligan read his tablet:
Everyman His Own Wife or A Honeymoon in the Hand (a national immorality in three orgasms) by Ballocky Mulligan
He turned a happy patch’s smirk to Stephen, saying:
―The disguise, I fear, is thin. But listen.
He read, marcato :
―Characters:
Toby Tostoff (a ruined