Stephen:  (Strangled with rage) Shite! (His features grow drawn grey and
old)

Bloom:  (At the window) What?

Stephen:  Ah non, par EXEMPLE!  The intellectual imagination!  With me all or not at all.  Non SERVIAM!

Florry:  Give him some cold water.  Wait. (She rushes out)

The mother:  (Wrings her hands slowly, moaning desperately) O Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on him!  Save him from hell, O Divine Sacred Heart!

Stephen:  No!  No!  No!  Break my spirit, all of you, if you can!  I’ll bring you all to heel!

The mother:  (In the agony of her DEATHRATTLE) Have mercy on Stephen, Lord, for my sake!  Inexpressible was my anguish when expiring with love, grief and agony on Mount Calvary.

Stephen:  NOTHUNG!

(He lifts his ashplant high with both hands and smashes the chandelier.  TIME’S livid final flame leaps and, in the following darkness, ruin of all space, shattered glass and toppling masonry.)

The GASJET:  Pwfungg!

Bloom:  Stop!

Lynch:  (Rushes forward and seizes Stephen’s hand) Here!  Hold on!  Don’t run amok!

Bella:  Police!

(Stephen, abandoning his ashplant, his head and arms thrown back stark,
beats the ground and flies from the room, past the whores at the door.)

Bella:  (Screams) After him!

(The two whores rush to the halldoor.  Lynch and Kitty and Zoe Stampede
from the room.  They talk excitedly.  Bloom follows, returns.)

The whores:  (Jammed in the doorway, pointing) Down there.

Zoe:  (Pointing) There.  There’s something up.

Bella:  Who pays for the lamp? (She seizes Bloom’s coattail) Here, you were with him.  The lamp’s broken.

Bloom:  (Rushes to the hall, rushes back) What lamp, woman?

A whore:  He tore his coat.

Bella:  (Her eyes hard with anger and cupidity, points) Who’s to pay for that?  Ten shillings.  You’re a witness.