—­Call it, wait, the professor said, opening his long lips wide to reflect.  Call it, let me see.  Call it:  Deus Nobis HAEC Otia FECIT.

—­No, Stephen said.  I call it A Pisgah sight of Palestine or the parable of the plums.

—­I see, the professor said.

He laughed richly.

—­I see, he said again with new pleasure.  Moses and the promised land.  We gave him that idea, he added to J. J. O’Molloy.

    Horatio is cynosure this fair June day

J. J. O’Molloy sent a weary sidelong glance towards the statue and held his peace.

—­I see, the professor said.

He halted on sir John Gray’s pavement island and peered aloft at Nelson through the meshes of his wry smile.

    Diminished digits prove too titillating
    for frisky frumps.  Anne wimbles, Flo
    wangles—­yet can you blame them?

—­Onehandled adulterer, he said smiling grimly.  That tickles me, I must say.

—­Tickled the old ones too, Myles Crawford said, if the God Almighty’s truth was known.

* * * * * * *

Pineapple rock, lemon platt, butter scotch.  A sugarsticky girl shovelling scoopfuls of creams for a christian brother.  Some school treat.  Bad for their tummies.  Lozenge and comfit manufacturer to His Majesty the King.  God.  Save.  Our.  Sitting on his throne sucking red jujubes white.

A sombre Y.M.C.A. young man, watchful among the warm sweet fumes of Graham Lemon’s, placed a throwaway in a hand of Mr Bloom.

Heart to heart talks.

Bloo ...  Me?  No.

Blood of the Lamb.

His slow feet walked him riverward, reading.  Are you saved?  All are washed in the blood of the lamb.  God wants blood victim.  Birth, hymen, martyr, war, foundation of a building, sacrifice, kidney burntoffering, druids’ altars.  Elijah is coming.  Dr John Alexander Dowie restorer of the church in Zion is coming.

    Is coming!  Is coming!!  Is coming!!! 
    All heartily welcome.

Paying game.  Torry and Alexander last year.  Polygamy.  His wife will put the stopper on that.  Where was that ad some Birmingham firm the luminous crucifix.  Our Saviour.  Wake up in the dead of night and see him on the wall, hanging.  Pepper’s ghost idea.  Iron nails ran in.

Phosphorus it must be done with.  If you leave a bit of codfish for instance.  I could see the bluey silver over it.  Night I went down to the pantry in the kitchen.  Don’t like all the smells in it waiting to rush out.  What was it she wanted?  The Malaga raisins.  Thinking of Spain.  Before Rudy was born.  The phosphorescence, that bluey greeny.  Very good for the brain.