 Section 60 of Ulysses. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Ulysses by James Joyce, Part 3, The Nostos. Episode 18, Penelope, Part 5. Movies was the first one I was in bed that morning. And Mrs. Rubio brought us in with the coffee. She stood there standing when I asked her to hand me. And I, pointing at them, I couldn't think of the word, a hairpin to open it. Oh, Horkia! Disapplyed an old thing, and it's staring her in the face with her switch of false hair on her, and vain about her appearance ugly as she was. Near eighty or a hundred, her face a mass of wrinkles with all her religion, domineering because she never could get over the Atlantic fleet coming in. Half the ships of the world, and the Union Jack flying with all her carabineros, because four drunken English sailors took all the rock from them. And because I didn't run into mass often enough in Santa Maria to please her, with her shawl open, except when there was a marriage on with all her miracles of the saints, and her black-blessed virgin in a silver dress, and the sun dancing three times in Easter Sunday morning. And when the priest was going by with the bell ring and the Vatican to the dying, blessed herself after his majesty and admirer, he signed it. I near jumped out of my skin. I wanted to pick him up on a farm along the Caleriel in the shop window. Then he tipped me just in passing, but I never thought he'd write making an appointment. I had it inside my pedicot bodice all day reading it up every hole in the corner, while father was up at the drill instructing to find out by the handwriting or the language of stamps. Singin', I remember, shall I wear a white rose? And I wanted to put on the old stupid clock to near the time. He was the first man kissed me under the Moorish wall, my sweet heart when a boy. It never entered my head what kissing meant till he put his tongue in my mouth. His mouth was sweet like young. I put my knee up to him a few times to learn the way. What did I tell him? I was engaged, for fun, to the son of a Spanish nobleman named Don Miguel de la Flora. And he believed me that I was to be married to him in three years' time. There's many a true word spoken in jest. There is a flower that bloometh. A few things I told him true about myself, just for him to be imagining. The Spanish girls he didn't like. I suppose one of them wouldn't have him. I got him excited. He crushed all the flowers on my bosom he brought me. He couldn't count the Pesetas and the Paragord as I till I taught him. Cappaquin he came from, he said, on the black water. But I was too short then the day before he left. May. Yes, it was May when the infant King of Spain was born. I'm always like that in the spring. I'd like a new fellow every year up on the tip-top under the rock and near O'Hara's tower. I told him it was struck by lightning and all about the old Barbary apes they sent to clap them without a tail, careering all over the show and each other's back. Mrs. Rubio said she's a regular old rock scorpion robbing the chickens out of Inca's farm and throw stones at you if you went near. He was looking at me. I had that white blouse on, open in the front to encourage him as much as I could without too openly. They were just beginning to be plump. I said I was tired. We lay over the fir tree cove. A wild place I suppose it must be the highest rock in existence. Galleries and Casanades and those frightful rocks in St. Michael's cave with the icicles or whatever to call them, hanging down and ladders. All the mud clutching my boots. I'm sure that's the way down. The monkeys going to the sea to Africa when they die. The ships out far like chips. That was the Malta boat passing, yes? The sea in the sky, you could do what you liked. Lay there forever. They caress them outside. They love doing that. It's the roundness there. I was leaning over him with my white rice straw hat to take the newness out of it. The left side of my face the best. My blouse open for his last day. Transparent kind of shirt he had. I could see his chest pink. He wanted to touch mine with his for a moment but I wouldn't let him. He was awfully put out first for fear. There was no consumption. Or leave me with a child. That old servant, Ines, told me that one drop even if I got into it all. After I tried with the banana but I was afraid it might break and get lost up in me somewhere because they once took something down out of a woman that was up there for years covered with lime salts. They're all mad to get in there where they come out of. You'd think they could never go far enough up and then they're done with you in a way till the next time. Yes. Because there's a wonderful feeling there. So tender all the time. How did we finish it off? Yes. Oh yes. I pulled him off into my handkerchief pretending not to be excited but I opened my legs. I wouldn't let him touch inside my petticoat because I had a skirt opening up the side. I tormented the life out of him first tickling him. I loved rousing that dog in the hotel. His eyes shut and a bird flying below us. He was shy all the same. I liked him like that morning. I made him blush a little when I got over him that way when I unbuttoned him and took his out and drew his skin back. It kind of an eye in it. They're all buttons men. Down the middle on the wrong side of it. Mollying darling he called me. What was his name? Jack. Joe. Harry Mulvey was it? Yes I think. A lieutenant. He was rather fair. He had a laugh of a voice so I went round to the watch you call it. Everything was watch you call it. Mustache had he. He said he'd come back. Lord it's just like yesterday to me and if I was married he'd do it to me and I promised him yes faithfully. I'd let him block me now flying. Perhaps he's dead or killed or a captain or admiral. It's nearly twenty years. If I said for a tree-cove he would. If he'd come up behind me and put his hand over my eyes to guess who. I might recognize him. He's young still, about forty. Perhaps he's married some girl in the black water and has quite changed. They all do. They haven't half the character a woman has. She little knows what I did with her beloved husband before he ever dreamt of her in broad daylight too. In the sight of the whole world you might say. Could have put an article about it in the chronicle. I was a bit wild after when I blew out the old bag. The biscuits were in from Bernadie Brothers and exploded. Lord what a bag. All the woodcocks and pigeons screaming. Coming back the same way that we went. Over middle hill round by the old guard house and the Jews barrier place. Pretending to read out the Hebrew on them. I wanted to fire his pistol. He said he hadn't one. He didn't know what to make of me with his peak cap on. That he always wore crooked. As often as I settled it straight. HMS Calypso swing in my hat. That old bishop that spoke off the altar. His long preach about women's higher functions. About girls no riding the bicycle. And wearing peak caps. And the new woman bloomers. God send him sense and me more money. I suppose they're called after him. I never thought that would be my name. Bloom when I used to write it in print to see how it looked. On a visiting card or practicing for the butcher. And a bligh gem bloom. You're looking blooming. Josie used to say after I married him. Well it's better than brine or briggs. Does Briggs or those awful names with bottom in them. Mrs. Rams bottom or some other kind of bottom. Movia wouldn't go mad about either. Or suppose I divorced him. Mrs. Boylan. My mother whoever she was might have given me a nicer name. She was my partner after the lovely one she had. Lunita Laredo. The fun we had running along Willis Road to Europa Point. Twisting in and out all around the other side of Jersey. They were shaking and dancing about in my blouse. Like Millie's little ones now when she runs up the stairs. I loved looking down at them. I was jumping up at the pepper trees and the white poplars. Pulling the leaves off and throwing them at him. He went to India. He was to write the voyages those men have to make to the ends of the world and back. It's the least they might get a squeeze or two as a woman while they can. Going out to be drowned or blown up somewhere. I went up Windmill Hill to the flats that Sunday morning with Captain Rubios. There was dead spyglass like the sentry had. He said he'd have one or two from on board. They wore that frock from the B-March Paris. And the coral necklace. The straits shining. I could see over to Morocco almost the bay of Tangier. White and the atlas mountain would snow on it. And the straits like a river so clear. Harry. Molly, darling. I was thinking of him on the sea all the time after at Mass. When my petticoat began to slip down at the elevation. Weeks and weeks I kept a handkerchief under my pillow for the smell of him. There was no decent perfume to be gotten at Gibraltar. I could see that sheep paw disband that faded and left a stink on you more than anything else. I wanted to give him a memento. He gave me that clumsy clatter ring for luck that I gave Gardner going to South Africa where all those boars killed him with their war and fever. But they were well beaten all the same. And if it brought its bad luck with it like an opal or a pearl. Still. Must have been pure 18 carat gold because it was very heavy. Could you get in a place like that with the sand frog shower from Africa and that derelict ship that came up the harbour? Marie the Marie what you call it. No yet in a mustache that was Gardner. Yes. I can see his face clean shaven. Free from that train again. Weeping tone. Once in the dear dead days beyond the call. Close my eyes. Breath. My lips forward. Kiss. Sad look. Eyes open. Piano air or the world the mists began. I hate that. Ist's bag comes love sweet song. Let that outfall when I get in front of the footlights again. Kathleen Kearney and her lot of squealers. Miss this, miss that, miss the other. Lot of sparrow farts getting round talking about politics. They know of much about as my back side. Anything in the world to make themselves some way interesting. Irish homemade beauties. Soldiers daughter am I. And who's are you bootmakers and publicans I beg your pardon coach. I thought you were a wheelbarrow. They died down dead off their feet if ever they got a chance of walking down the Alameda on officers arm. Like me in the band light. My eyes flash my bust. That they haven't passion. God help their poor head. I knew more about men in life when I was 15 than they'll know at 50. They don't know how to sing a song like that. Gardner said no man could look at my mouth and teeth smiling like that and not think of it. I was afraid he might like my accent first. He's so English. All father left me in spite of his stamps. I have my mother's eyes and figure anyhow he always said. They're so snotty about themselves some of these cats. He wasn't a bit like that he was dead gone in my lips. Let them get a husband first that's fit to be looked at and a daughter like mine. Or see if they can excite as well with money they can pick and choose whoever he wants like boiling. To do it four or five times locked in each other's arms or the voice either. I could have been a prima donna only I married him. Comes love salt deep down chin back. Not too much make it double. My lady's bower is too long for an encore. About the moted grains of twilight and vaulted rooms. Yeah, saucing winds that blow from this house that he gave me after the choir stares performance. I'll change that lace on my black dress to show off my bubs and oh yes by God I'll get that big fan and it make them burst with envy. My whole is it should be always what I think of him. I feel I want to. I feel some wind in me. Better go easy not to wake him. Have him at me against lubber and after washing every bit of myself back belly and sides. If we had even a bath itself or my own room anyway I wish he'd sleep in some bed by himself with his cold feet on me. Give us room to even let a fart. God or do the least thing. Better yes hold him like that a bit on my side. Piano quietly. Sweet. There's a train far away. Pianissimo. One more song. End of section 60. Section 61 of Ulysses. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Ulysses by James Joyce. Part 3. The Nostos. Section 18 Penelope. Part 6. That was a relief. Wherever you be let your wind go free. Who knows if that pork chop I took with my cup of tea after was quite good with that heat. I couldn't smell anything off it. I'm sure that queer looking man in the pork butchers is a great rogue. I hope that lamp is not smoking. Fill my nose up with smuts better than having him leaving the gas on all night. I couldn't rest easy in my bed in Gibraltar even. Getting up to sea. Why am I so damn nervous about that? Do I like it in the winter? It's more company. Oh lord it was rotten cold too that winter when I was only about ten. Was I? Yes. I had the big doll without the funny clothes. Dressing her up and undressing. That icy wind skating across from those mountains. There's something in Nevada. Sierra Nevada standing at the fire with a little bit of a short shift I had up to the heat itself. I loved dancing about in it. Then make a race back into bed. I'm sure that fellow opposite used to be there the whole time watching me with the lights out in the summer and dyeing my skin hopping around. Used to love myself then. Stripped at the wash stand. Dabbing and creaming. Only when it came to the chamber performance I put out the light too. So then there were two of us. Goodbye to my sleep for this night anyhow. I hope he's not going to get in with those medicos leading him astray to imagine he's young again. Coming in at four in the morning. Must be, if not more. Still, he had the matters not to wake me. What did I find to jabber about all night squandering money and getting drunker and drunker? Couldn't I drink water? Then he starts giving us his orders for eggs and tea and fin danaadi and hot buttered toast. I suppose we'll have him sitting up like the king of the country pumping the wrong end of the spoon up and down in his egg wherever he learned that from. Now I love to hear him following up the stairs every morning with the cups rattling on the tray and then play with the cat. She rubs up against you for her own sake. I wonder how she flees. She's as bad as a woman always licking and licking. But I hate her claws. I want her to see anything that we can't. Staring like that when she sits at the stop at the stairs so long and listening as I wait always. What a robber too. That lovely fresh place I bought. I think I'll get a bit of fish tomorrow. Or today is it Friday? Yes, I will with some blemange. With blackcurrant jam like long go. Let those two pound pots of mixed plum and apple from the London Newcastle. Williams and woods go twice as far only for the bones. I hate those eels. Cod. Yes, I'll get a nice piece of cod. I'm always getting enough for three, forgetting. Anyway, I'm sick of that everlasting butchers meat from bookleys. Nine chops and leg beef and rib steak and swag of mutton and calf's pluck. The very name is enough. Or a picnic. I suppose we all get five pence each. Or let him pay it and invite some other woman for him. Who, Mrs Fleming? And drove out to the furry glen or the strawberry beds. We'd have him examining all the horses' toenails first. Like he does with the letters. No, not with violin there. Yes, with some cold veal and ham. Mixed sandwiches. There are little houses down at the bottom of the bank stair on purpose, but it's hot as blaze, as he says. Not a bank holiday, anyhow. I hate all those Rook of Miriam coal boxes out for the day. Which Monday is a cursed day, too. No wonder that bee bit him. Better to seaside, but I'd never again in this life get into a boat with him after him at Bray telling the boatman he knew how to roll. If anyone asked could he ride the steeple-chain for the gold cup, he'd say yes. Then it came down to get rough the old thing crookeding about and the weight all down my side telling me to pull the right reins, now pull the left and to tie it all swamping and floods into the bottom and his oar slipping out of the stirrup. It's a mercy we weren't all drowned. He can swim, of course. Me, no danger there whatsoever. Keep yourself calm in his flannel trousers. I'd like to have tattered him down off and before all the people and give him what that one calls fledglet till he was black and blue. Do him all the good in the world only for that long-nosed chap I don't know who he is but that other beauty burka at the city arm's hotel was there spying around as usual on the slip. All was where he wasn't wanted if there was a row on you'd vomit a better face. There was no love lost between us, that's one consolation. No wonder what kind is that book he brought me. Sweets of sin by a gentleman of fashion. Some other Mr. Cock I suppose people gave from that nickname going about with it is two from one woman to another. I couldn't even change my new white shoes all ruined with the salt water and the hat I had with that feather all blowy and tossed on me. How annoying and provoking because the smell of the sea excited me, of course. The sardines and the brim and Catalan Bay round the back of the rock. Morphine, all silver in a fisherman's baskets. Old Luigi near a hundred they said they came from Genoa and a tall old chap with the earrings. I don't like a man you have to climb up to get at. I suppose they're all dead and rotten long ago. Besides I don't like being alone in this big barracks of a place at night. I suppose I'll have to put up with it. I never brought a bit of salt even when we moved in a confusion. Musical Academy he was going to make on the first floor drawing room with a brass plate or Bloom's private hotel he suggested. Go and moon himself out together the way his father did down in Ennis like all the things he told father he was going to do and me. But I saw through him telling me all the lovely places we could go for the honeymoon. Venice by moonlight with the gandolas and the lake of Como. He had a picture cut out of some paper, oven mandolines and lanterns. Oh how nice I said. Whatever I liked he was going to do immediately if not sooner. Will you be my man? Will you carry my can? He ought to get a leather medal with a putty rim for all the plans he invents. Then leaving us here all day you'd never know what old beggar at the door for a crust with his long story might be a tramp. Put his foot in that way to prevent me like the picture of that hardened criminal he was called in Lloyd's weekly news. Twenty years in jail then he comes out and murders an old woman for her money. Imagine his poor wife or mother, however she is. Such a face you'd run miles away from. I couldn't rest easy till I bolted all the doors and windows to make sure but it's worse again being locked up like a prison or a madhouse. They ought to be all shut or the cat and nine tails. A big brook like that would attack a poor old woman to murder her in the bed. I'd cut them off so I would. Not that he'd be much use still, better than nothing. The night I was sure he heard burglars in the kitchen and he went down in his short with a candle and a poker as if he was looking for a mouse as white as a sheet frightened out of his wits making as much noise as he possibly could for the burglars' benefit. There isn't much to steal indeed, the Lord knows. Still it's the feeling, especially now it's milling away. Such an idea for him to send the girl down there to learn to take photographs on account of his grandfather instead of sending her to the Scarry's Academy where she'd have to learn. Not like me getting all eyes at school. Only he'd do a thing like that all the same on account of me and Bylin. That's why he did it, I'm certain. The way he plots and plans everything out I couldn't turn around with her in the place lately unless I bolted the door first. He gave me the fidgets coming in without knocking first when I put the chair against the door just as I was washing myself there below with the glove. Guess on your nerves. Then doing the log lady all day putting her in a glass case with two at a time to look at her if he knew she broke off the hand of that little Jim Crack statue with her roughness and carelessness before she left then I got that little Italian boy to mend so that you can see the joint for two shillings. Wouldn't even team the potatoes for you. Of course she's right not to be on her hands. I noticed he was always talking her lately at the table explaining things in the paper and she pretending to understand sly of course that comes from his side of the house he can't say I pretend things any I'm too honest as a matter of fact and helping her into her coat but if there's anything wrong with her it's me she tell not him I suppose he thinks I'm finished out and laid on the shelf well I'm not known or anything like it we'll see we'll see she's well on for flirting too with Tom DeVan's two sons imitating me whistling with those rumps of Murray girls calling for her can Milly come out please she's in great demand to pick what they can off her round in Nelson Street riding Harry DeVan's bicycle at night it's as well he sent her where she is she was just getting out of bounds wanting to go to the skating rink and smoking their cigarettes through their nose I smelted off her dress when I was biting off the thread of the button I sewed on the bottom of her jacket she couldn't hide much from me I tell ya only I oughtn't have stitched it and yet on her it brings a parting in the last plump pudding two split in two halves see it comes out no matter what they say her tongue is a bit too long for my taste your blouse is open too low she says to me the pan calling the kettle black bottom and I had to tell her not to cock her legs up like that on show in the windowsill before all the people passing they all look at her like me when I was her age of course any old rag looks well on ya then a great touch me not too in her own way at the only way in the theatre royal take your foot away out of that I hate people touching me I fear that if her life had crushed her skirt with the pleats a lot of that touching must go on in theatres and it'd crush in the dark they're always trying to wiggle up to ya that fellow in the pit at the gatey for a beer-bomb tree in Trilby the last time I'll ever go there to be squashed like that for any Trilby where her beer-bomb every two minutes tipping me there looking away he's a bit daft I think I saw him after trying to get near two stylish dressed ladies outside Switzer's window at the same little game I recognized him on the moment the face and everything but he didn't remember me yes and she didn't want me to kiss her at the broad stone going away well I hope she'll get some of the dance attendance on her the way I did when she was down with the measles and her glands swollen where is this and where is that of course she can't feel anything deep yet I never came properly till I was 22 or so went into the wrong place always only the usual girls nonsense and giggling that Connie Connolly writing to her in white ink on black paper sealed with sealing wax though she clapped when the curtain came down because he looked so handsome and he looked like a good merton harvey for breakfast, dinner and supper he talked to himself afterwards it must be real love if a man gives up his life for her that way or nothing I suppose there are a few men like that left it's hard to believe in it though unless it really happened to me the majority of them would not a particle of love in their natures to find two people like that nowadays full up of each other that would feel the same way as you do they're usually a bit foolish in the head her father must have been a bit queer to go and poison himself after her still poor old man I suppose he felt lost she's always making love to my things too the few old rags I have wanted to put her hair up at 15 my powder too when he ruined her skin on her if she's time enough for that all her life after of course she's restless knowing she's pretty with her lips so red I pity they won't stay that way I was too but there's no use going to the fair with the thing that ends for me like a fissure woman when I asked her to go for half a stone of potatoes the day we met Mrs. Joe Gallagher at the trotting matches and she pretended not to see us in her trap with friary the solicitor we weren't grand enough till I gave her two damn fine cracks across the ear for herself take that now for answering me like that and that for your impotence she had me that exasperated of course contradicting I was bad tempered too because I was there was a weed in the tea or I didn't sleep the night before cheese I ate was it and I told her over and over again not to leave knives crossed like that because she has nobody to command her she said herself that was the last time she turned on the tear tap I was just like that myself they dared to order me about the place it's his fault of course having the two of us slaving here instead of getting in a woman long ago am I ever going to have a proper servant again of course then she'd see him coming I'd have to let her know where she'd revenge it or at the innocence that old Mrs. Fleming would have to be walking around after her putting the things into her hands sneezing and farting into the pots well of course she's old she can't help it good job I found that rotten old smelly dishcloth that got lost behind the dresser I knew there was something and opened the area window to let out the smile bringing in his friends to entertain them like the night he walked home with a dog if you please that might have been mad especially Simon Detleson his father's such a criticiser with his glasses up with his tall hat on him at the cricket match and a great big hole in his sock one thing laughing at the other and his son to get all those prizes for whatever he won them in the intermediate imagine climbing over the railings if anybody saw him that knew us I wonder he didn't tear a big hole in his grand funeral trousers as if the one nature gave wasn't enough for anybody hawking him down into dirty old kitchen was he right in the head I ask pity it wasn't Washington Day my old pair of drawers might have been hanging up too on the line for an exhibition for all he'd ever care with the iron mould mark the stupid old bundle burned on them he might think of something else and she never even rendered down the fat I told her and now she's going such as she was and accounted for a paralysed husband getting worse there's always something wrong with them disease or they have to go under an operation or if it's not that it's drink and he beats her I'll have to hunt around again for someone every day I get up there's some new thing on sweet God sweet God well when I'm stretched out dead in my grave I suppose I'll have some peace I want to get up a minute if I'm that wait oh Jesus wait yes that thing has come on me yes now wouldn't that afflict you of course all the poking and rooting and plowing he had up on me now what am I to do Friday Saturday Sunday wouldn't that pester the soul out of a body unless he likes it some men do God knows there's always something wrong with us five days every three or four weeks usual monthly auction isn't it simply sickening the night it came on to me like that the one and only time we were in a box that Michael Gunn gave him to see Mrs. Kendall and her husband at the gaiety he did about insurance for him and Jimmy's I was fit to be tied though I wouldn't give in with that gentleman of fashion staring down at me with his glasses and him on the other side of me talking about spinosa and his soul that's dead I suppose millions of years ago I smiled the best I could on a swamp leaning forward as if I was interested having to sit it out then to the last tag I won't forget that wife of Scarley in a hurry it's supposed to be a fast play about adultery that idiot in the gallery hissing the woman a dauntress he shouted I suppose he went and had a woman in the next lane running around all the back ways after to make up for it I wish he had what I had then he'd boo I bet the cat itself is better off than us have we too much blood up in us or what all patients above is pouring out and we like to see anyhow he didn't make me pregnant as big as he is I don't want to ruin the clean sheets I just put on I suppose the clean linen I wore brought it on too damn it damn it and they always want to see a stain on the bed to know you're a virgin for them all that's troubling them they're such fools too it could be a widow or divorced 40 times over a dob of red ink would do or blackberry juice no that's too purply oh jamsie let me up out of this poo, sweets of sin business for women what between clothes and cooking and children this damn old bed too jingling like the dickens I suppose they could hear us away over the other side of the park till I suggested to put the quilt on the floor under with the pillow under my bottom I wonder is it nicer in the day I think it is easy I think I'll cut this hair off me there scalding me I might look like a young girl wouldn't he get the great suck on the next time he turned up my clothes on me I'd give anything to see his face where's the chamber gone easy I have a holy horror of its breaking under me after that old commode I wonder was I too heavy sitting on his knee I made him sit on the easy chair purposely when I took off only my blouse and skirt first in the other room he was so busy where he oughtn't to be and he never felt me I hope my breath was sweet after those kissing comforts easy God, I remember one time I could scout it out straight whistling like a man almost easy oh lord how noisy I hope there are bubbles in it for a wad of money from some fellow I'll have to perfume it in the morning don't forget I bet he never saw a better pair of thighs than that look how white they are the smoothest place is right there between this bit here how soft like a peach easy God, I wouldn't mind being a man and get up in a lovely woman oh lord what a row you're making like the cheresy lily easy, easy oh how do waters come down at Lahore and of section 61 section 62 of Ulysses this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Ulysses by James Joyce Part 3 The Nostos Episode 18 Penelope Part 7 Who knows is there anything to matter with my insides or have I something growing in me getting that thing like that every week when was it last I? Witt Monday, yes it's only about 3 weeks I ought to go to the doctor only it would be like before I married him and Flowey made me go to that dry old stick doctor Collins for women's diseases on Pembroke Road your vagina he called it I suppose that's how he got all the guilt mirrors and carpets getting round those rich ones off Stevens Green running up to him for every little fiddle faddle her vagina and her coach and China they have money of course so they're all right I wouldn't marry him not if he was the last man in the world besides there's something queer about their children always smelling around those filthy bitches all sides asking me if what I did had an offensive odor what did he want me to do but the one thing gold maybe what a question if I smathered it all over his wrinkly old face for him with all my compliments I suppose he'd know then and could you pass it easily pass what? I thought he was talking about the rock of Gibraltar the way he put it that's a very nice invention too by the way only I like letting myself down after in the hole as far as I can squeeze and pull the chain then to flush it nice cool pins and needles still there's something in it I suppose I always used to know by Millie's when she was a child whether she had worms or not still all the same paying him for that how much is that doctor one guinea please and asking me had I frequent omissions where do those old fellows get all the words they have omissions with his short-sighted eyes on me cocked sideways I wouldn't trust him too far to give me chloroform or God knows what else still I liked him when he sat down to write the thing out frowning so severe his nose intelligent like that you be damned you lying strap oh anything no matter who except an idiot he was clever enough to spot that of course that was all thinking of him and his mad crazy letters my precious one everything connected with your glorious body everything underlined that comes from it as a thing of beauty and of joy forever something he got out of some nonsensical book that he had me always at myself four and five times a day sometimes are you sure oh yes I said I am quite sure in a way that shot him up I knew what was coming next only natural weakness it was he excited me I don't know how the first night ever we met when I was living in Rehoboth Terrace we stood staring at one another for about ten minutes as if we met somewhere I suppose on account of my being Jewish looking after my mother he used to amuse me the things he said with the half-slythering smile on him and all the Doyle said he was going to stand for a member of parliament I wasn't either born fool to believe all his blather about home rule and the land league sending me that long struel of a song out of the Huguenots to sing in French to be more classy oboe payee de la Touraine that I never even sang once explaining and rigmaroling about religion and persecution he won't let you enjoy anything naturally then might he as a great favor the very first opportunity he got a chance in Brighton Square running into my bedroom pretending the ink got on his hands to wash it off with the Albion milk and sulfur soap I used to use and the gelatin still rounded though I laughed myself sick at him that day I better not make an all night sitting on this affair they ought to make chambers a natural size so that a woman could sit on it properly he nails down to do it I suppose there isn't an all creation another man with the habits he has look at the way he's sleeping at the foot of the bed how can he without a hard bolster it's well he doesn't kick my teeth breathing with his hand on his nose like that Indian God he took me to show one wet Sunday in the museum in Kildare Street all yellow in a pinnifor lying on his side on his hand with his ten toes sticking out that he said was a bigger religion than the Jews and our lords both put together all over Asia imitating him as he's always imitating everybody I suppose he used to sleep at the foot of the bed too with his big square feet up in his wife's mouth damn this stinking thing anyway where's this oh yes I know I hope the old press doesn't creak I knew it would he's sleeping hard still she must have given him great value for his money of course he has to pay for it from her all this nuisance of a thing I hope they'll have something better for us in the other world tying ourselves up got help us that's all right for tonight now the lumpy old jingly bed always reminds me of old Cohen I suppose he scratched himself in it often enough and he thinks father bought it from Lord Napier that I used to admire when I was a little girl because I told him easy piano oh I like my bed God here we are as bad as ever after 16 years how many houses were we in at all Raymond Terrace and Ontario Terrace and Lombard Street and Hall Street and he goes about whistling every time we're on the run again his Huguenose or the Frogs March pretending to help the men with our four sticks of furniture and then the city arms hotel worse and worse says Warden Daily that charming place on the landing always somebody inside praying then leaving all their stinks after them always know who was in their last every time we're just getting on right something happens or he puts his big foot in it Tom's and Helles and Mr. Cuffs and Drimmies either he's going to be run into prison over his old lottery tickets that was to be all our salvation or he goes and gives impudence we'll have him coming home with a sack soon out of the Freeman to like the rest on account of those sinner Fane or the then we'll see if the little man he showed me dribbling along in the wet all by himself round by Cody's lane will give him much consolation that he says is so capable and sincerely Irish he is indeed judging by the sincerity of the trousers I saw on him wait there's George's church bells wait three quarters the hour one wait two o'clock well that's a nice hour of the night for him to be coming home at to anybody climbing down into the area if anybody saw him I'll knock him off that little habit tomorrow first I'll look at his shirt to see or I'll see if he has that French letter still in his pocketbook I suppose he thinks I don't know deceitful men all their 20 pockets aren't enough for their lies then why should we tell them even if it's the truth they don't believe you then tucked up in bed like those babies in the aristocrats masterpiece he brought me another time as if we hadn't enough of that in real life without some old aristocrat or whatever his name is disgusting you more with those rotten pictures children with two heads and no legs that's the kind of villainy they're always dreaming about with not another thing in their empty heads they ought to get slow poised in the half of them then tea and toast for him buttered on both sides and new laid eggs I suppose I'm nothing anymore when I wouldn't let him lick me in Hall Street one night man man tyrant as ever for the one thing he slept on the floor half the night naked the way the Jews used when somebody dies belonged to them and wouldn't eat any breakfast or speak a word wanting to be petted so I thought I stood up for one time and let him he does it all wrong too thinking only of his own pleasure his tongue is too flat or I don't know what he forgets that we then I don't I'll make him do it again if he doesn't mind himself and lock him down to sleep in the coal cellar with the black beetles I wonder was it her Josie off her head with my castoffs he's such a born liar too no he'd never have the courage with a married woman that's why he wants me and boiling those for her Dennis as she calls him that for Lorne looking beautiful you couldn't call him a husband yes it's some little bitch he's got in with even when I was with him with Millie at the college races that hornblower with the child's bonnet on the top of his knob led us into by the back way he was throwing his sheep's eyes at those two doing skirt duty up and down I tried to wink at him first no use of course and that's the way his money goes this is the fruits of Mr. Patty Dignum yes they were all in great style at the Grand Funeral in the paper Boiland brought in if they saw a officer's funeral that would be something reversed arms muffled drums the poor horse walking behind in black Elboom and Tom Kernan that drunken little barely man that bit his tongue off falling down the men's WC drunk in some place or other and Martin Cunningham and the two deadlesses and Fannie McCoy's husband white head of cabbage skinny thing with a turn in her eye trying to sing my songs she'd want to be born all over again at her old green dress with the low neck as she can't attract like dabbling on a rainy day I see it all now plainly and they call that friendship killing and then burying one another and they all with their wives and families at home more especially Jack Power keeping that bar made he does of course his wife is always sick or going to be sick or just getting better of it and he's a good-looking man still though he's getting a bit gray over the ears they're a nice lot all of them well they're not going to get my husband again into their clutches if I can help it making fun of him then behind the back I know well when he goes on with his idiotics because he has sense enough not to squander every penny piece he earns down their gullets and looks after his wife and family good for nothing's poor Patty Dignam all the same I'm sorry in a way for him what are his wife and five children going to do unless he was insured comica little Tito I'm always stuck up in some pub corner and her or her son waiting Bill Bailey won't you please come home her widow's weeds won't approve her appearance they're awfully becoming though what men wasn't he yes he was at the Glencree dinner and Ben Dollar base barrel tone the night he borrowed the swallowtail to sing out of in Hall Street squeezed and squashed into them and grinning all over his big dolly face like a well whipped child's body didn't he look a balmy bollock sure enough that must have been a spectacle on the stage imagine paying five in the preserved seats for that to see him trotting off in his trawlers and Simon Daedalus too he was always turning up half screwed singing the second verse first the old love knew was one of his so sweetly saying the maiden on the Hawthorne bow he was always on for flirtifying too when I sang Maritana with him at Freddie Mayer's private opera he had a delicious glorious voice Phoebe dearest goodbye sweetheart sweetheart he always saying it not like Bartle Darcy sweet tart goodbye of course he had the gift of the voice so there was no art in it all over you like a warm shower bath oh Maritana Wildwood flower we sang splendidly though it was a bit too high for my register even transposed and he was married at the time to May Goulding but then he'd say or do something to knock the good out of it he's a widower now I wonder what sort is his son he says he's an author and going to be a university professor of Italian and I'm to take lessons what is he driving at now showing him my photo it's not good of me I ought to have got it taken in drapery that never looks out of fashion still I look young in it I wonder he didn't make him a present of it oh why not I saw him driving down to the Kingsbridge station with his father and mother I was in mourning that's eleven years ago now yes he'd be eleven though what was the good in going into mourning for what was neither one thing nor the other the first cry was enough for me I heard the death watch too ticking in the wall of course he insisted he'd go into mourning for the cat I suppose he's a man now by this time he was an innocent boy then and a darling little fellow in his Lord Fauntlery suit and curly hair like a prince on the side when I saw him at Matt Dillon's he liked me too I remember they all do wait by God yes wait yes hold on he was on the cards this morning when I laid out the deck union with a young stranger neither dark nor fair you met before I thought it meant him but he's no chicken nor a stranger either besides my face was turned the other way what was the seventh card after that the ten of spades for a journey by land then there was a letter on its way in scandals too the three queens and diamonds for a rise in society yes waited all came out and two red eights for new garments look at that and didn't I dream something too yes there was something about poetry in it I hope he hasn't long greasy hair hanging into his eyes or standing up like a red Indian what do they go about like that for only getting themselves in their poetry laughed at I always liked poetry when I was a girl first I thought he was a poet like Lord Byron and not an ounce of it in his composition I thought he was quite different I wonder is he too young he's about wait 88 I was married 88 Millie is 15 yesterday 89 what age was he then at Dillon's five or six about 88 I suppose he's 20 or more I'm not too old for him if he's 23 or 24 I hope he's not that stuck up university student sort no otherwise he wouldn't go down sitting in the old kitchen with him taking Epps Coco and talking of course he pretended to understand it all probably he told him he was out of Trinity College he's very young to be a professor I hope he's not a professor like Goodwin was he was a potent professor of John Jameson they all write about some woman in their poetry well I suppose he won't find many like me where softly sighs of love the light guitar where poetry is in the air the blue sea and the moon shining so beautifully coming back on the nightboat from Tarifa the lighthouse at Europa Point the guitar that fellow played was so expressive will I ever go back there again all new faces two glancing eyes a lattice hid I'll sing that for him they're my eyes if he's anything of a poet two eyes as darkly bright as love's own star aren't those beautiful words as loves young star it'll be a change the Lord knows to have an intelligent person to talk to about yourself not always listening to him and Billy Prescott's ad and keys ad and Tom the devil's ad then if anything goes wrong in their business we have to suffer I'm sure he's very distinguished I'd like to meet a man like that God not those other rock besides he's young those fine young men I could see down in market strand bathing place from the side of the rock standing up in the sun naked like a God or something and then plunging into the sea with them why aren't all men like that there'd be some consolation for a woman like that lovely little statue he bought I could look at him all day long curly head and his shoulders his finger up for you to listen there's real beauty in poetry for you I often felt I wanted to kiss him all over also his lovely young cock there so simple I wouldn't mind taking him in my mouth if nobody was looking as if it was asking you to suck it so clean and white he looks with his boyish face I would too in half a minute even if some of it went down what it's only like gruel or to do there's no danger besides he'd be so clean compared with those pigs of men I suppose never dream of washing it from one year's end to the other the most of them only that's what gives the women the mustaches I'm sure it'll be grand if I can only get in with a handsome young poet at my age I'll throw them the first thing in the morning till I see if the wish-card comes out or I'll try pairing the lady herself and see if he comes out I'll read and study all I can find or learn a bit off by heart if I knew who he likes so he won't think me stupid if he thinks all women are the same and I can teach him the other part I'll make him feel all over him till he half faints under me then he'll write about me lover and mistress publicly too with our two photographs and all the papers when he becomes famous oh but then what am I going to do about him though end of section 62 section 63 of Ulysses this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Ulysses by James Joyce part 3 the Nostos episode 18 Penelope part 8 no that's no way for him has he no manners nor no refinement nor no nothing in his nature slapping us behind like that on my bottom because I didn't call him Hugh the ignoramus that doesn't know poetry from a cabbage that's what you get for not keeping them in their proper place pulling off his shoes and trousers there on the chair before me so bare faced without even asking permission and standing out that vulgar way in the half of a shirt they wear to be admired like a priest or a butcher or those old hypocrites in the time of Julius Caesar of course he's right enough in his way to pass the time as a joke sure you might as well be in bed with what with the lion god I'm sure he'd have something better to say for himself than old lion would oh well I suppose it's because they were so plump and tempting in my short petticoat he couldn't resist they excite myself sometimes it's well for men all the amount of pleasure they get off a woman's body were so round and white for them myself for a change just to try with that thing they have swelling up on you so hard and at the same time so soft when you touch it my uncle John has a thing long I heard those corner boys saying passing the corner of Maribone Lane my Aunt Mary has a thing hairy because it was dark and they knew a girl was passing it didn't make me blush why should it either it's only nature and he puts his thing long into my Aunt Mary's hairy etc and turns out to be you put the handle in a sweeping brush men again all over they can pick and use what they please a married woman or a fast widow or a girl for their different tastes like those houses round behind Irish Street no but we're to be always chained up they're not going to be chaining me up no damn fear once I start I tell you for their stupid husband's jealousy why can't we all remain friends over it instead of quarreling her husband found it out what they did together well naturally and if he did can he undo it he's Coronado anyway whatever he does and then he going about the wife in fair tyrants of course the men never even cast a second thought on the husband or wife either it's the woman he wants and he gets her what else were we given all those desires for I'd like to know I can't help it if I'm young still can I it's a wonder I'm not an old shriveled hag before my time living with him so cold never embracing me except sometimes when he's asleep the wrong end of me not knowing I suppose who he has any man that'd kiss a woman's bottom I'd throw my hat at him after that he'd kiss anything natural where we haven't one atom of any kind of expression in us all of us the same two lumps of lard before I'd ever do that to a man the dirty brutes the mere thought is enough I kiss the feet of you seniorita there's some sense in that didn't he kiss our hall door yes he did what a mad man nobody understands his cracked ideas but me still of course a woman wants to be embraced 20 times a day almost to make her look young no matter by who so long as to be in love or loved by somebody if the fellow you want isn't there sometimes by the Lord God I was thinking I would go around by the keys there some dark evening where nobody'd know me and pick up a sailor off the sea that'd be hot on for to not care a pin who I was only do it off up in a gate somewhere or one of those wild looking gypsies in Rath Farnham had their camp pitched near the Bloomfield Laundry to try and steal our things if they could I only sent mine there a few times for the name model laundry sending me back over and over some old ones odd stockings that blackard looking fellow with the fine eyes peeling a switch attack me in the dark and ride me up against the wall without a word or a murderer anybody what they do themselves the fine gentlemen in their silk hats that K.C. lives up somewhere this way coming out of Hardwick Lane the night he gave us the fish supper on account of winning over the boxing match of course it was for me he gave it I knew him by his gators in the walk and when I turned round a minute after just to see there was a woman after coming out of it too some filthy prostitute then he goes home to his wife after that only I suppose the half of those sailors are rotten again with disease oh move over your big carcass out of that for the love of Mike listen to him the winds that waft my sighs to thee so well he may sleep in sigh the great suggestor Don Polo de la Flora if he knew how he came out on the cards this morning he'd have something to sigh for a dark man in some perplexity between two sevens too in prison for Lord knows what he does but I don't know and I'm to be slouching around down in the kitchen to get his lordship his breakfast while he's rolled up like a mummy will I indeed did you ever see me running I just like to see myself at it show them attention and they treat you like dirt I don't care what anybody says it'd be much better for the world to be governed by the women in it you wouldn't see women going and killing one another and slaughtering when do you ever see women rolling around drunk like they do or gambling every penny they have and losing it on horses yes because a woman does she knows where to stop sure they wouldn't be in the world at all only for us they don't know what it is to be a woman and a mother how could they where would they all of them be if they hadn't all a mother to look after them what I never had that's why I suppose he's running wild now out at night away from his books and studies and not living at home on account of the usual rowey house I suppose well it's a poor case that those that have a fine son like that they're not satisfied and I none was he not able to make one it wasn't my fault we came together when I was watching the two dogs up in her behind in the middle of the naked street that disheartened me all together I suppose I ought to have buried him in that little woolly jacket I knitted crying as I was but give it to some poor child but I knew well I'd never have another our first death too it was we were never the same since oh I'm not going to think myself into the glooms about that anymore I wonder why he wouldn't stay the night I felt all the time it was somebody strange he brought in instead of roving around the city meeting God knows who night walkers in pickpockets his poor mother wouldn't like that if she was alive ruining himself for life perhaps still it's a lovely hour so silent I used to love coming home after dances the air of the night they have friends they can talk to we've none either he wants what he won't get or it's some woman ready to stick her knife in you I hate that in women no wonder they treat us the way they do we are a dreadful lot of bitches I suppose it's all the troubles we have makes us so snappy I'm not like that he could easy have slept in there on the sofa in the other room I suppose he was as shy as a boy he being so young hardly 20 of me in the next room he'd have heard me on the chamber era what harm deadless I wonder it's like those names in Gibraltar De La Paz de la Gracia they had the devil's queer names there father Villa Plana of Santa Maria that gave me the rosary Rosalis E. O'Reilly in the Calais la Siete de la Villeltas and Piscimbo and Mrs. O'Piso in Governor Street oh what a name I'd go and drown myself in this river if I had a name like her oh my and all the bits of streets Paradise Ramp and Bedlam Ramp and Rogers Ramp and Crutchets Ramp and the Devil's Gap Steps well small blame to me if I am a harem scarum I know I am a bit I declare to God I don't feel a day older than then I wonder could I get my tongue round any of the Spanish Como esta usted muy buen gracias y usted see I haven't forgotten at all I thought I had only for the grammar a noun is the name of any person place or thing pity I never tried to read that novel cank tanker Mrs. Rubio lent me by Valera with the questions in it all upside down the two ways I always knew we'd go away in the end I can tell him the Spanish and he tell me the Italian then he'll see I'm not so ignorant what a pity he didn't stay I'm sure the poor fellow was dead tired and wanted a good sleep badly I could have brought him in his breakfast in bed with a bit of toast so long as I didn't do it on the knife for bad luck or if the woman was going her rounds with the watercress and something nice and tasty there are a few olives in the kitchen he might like I never could bear the look of them in a brine as I could do the creada the room looks all right since I changed it the other way you see something was telling me all the time I'd have to introduce myself not knowing me from Adam very funny wouldn't it I'm his wife or pretend we were in Spain with him half awake without a God's notion where he is dos huevos estrellados señor Lord the cracked things that come into my head sometimes it'd be great fun supposing he stayed with us why not there's the room upstairs empty in Millie's bed in the back room he could do his writing and studies at the table in there for all the scribbling he does at it and if he wants to read in bed in the morning like me as he's making the breakfast for one he can make it for two I'm sure I'm not going to take in lodgers off the street for him if he takes a gassabo of a house like this I'd love to have a long talk with an intelligent well educated person I'd have to get a nice pair of red slippers like those Turks with a fez used to sell or yellow in a nice semi-transparent morning gown that I badly want or a peach blossom dressing jacket like the one long ago in wall poles only eight and six or eighteen and six I'll just give him one more chance I'll get up early in the morning I'm sick of Cohen's old bed in any case I might go over to the markets to see all the vegetables and cabbages and tomatoes and carrots and all kinds of splendid fruits all coming in lovely and fresh who knows who'd be the first man I'd meet they're out looking for it in the morning Mamie Dillon used to say they are in the night too that was her mask going I'd love to take juicy pear now to melt in your mouth like when I used to be in the longing way then I'll throw him up his eggs and tea in the mustache cup she gave him to make his mouth bigger I suppose he'd like my nice cream too I know what I'll do I'll go about rather gay not too much singing a bit now and then ma fa pieta maceto then I'll start dressing myself to go out presto non son pu forte I'll put on my best shift in drawers let him have a good eye full out of that to make his mickey stand for him I'll let him know if that's what he wanted my wife is ISLO fucked yes and damn well fucked too up to my neck nearly not by him five or six times hand running there's the mark of his spunk on the clean sheet I wouldn't bother to even iron it out that ought to satisfy him if you don't believe me feel my belly unless I made him stand there and put him into me I have a mind to tell him every scrap and make him do it out in front of me serve him right it's all his own fault if I am an adulteress as the thing in the gallery said oh much about it if that's all the harm ever we did in this veil of tears not much doesn't everybody only they hide it I suppose that's what a woman is supposed to be there for he wouldn't have made us the way he did so attractive to men then if he wants to kiss my bottom I'll drag open my drawers and bulge it right out in his face as large as life he can stick his tongue seven miles up my hole as he's there my brown part then I'll tell him I want L.I. or perhaps 30 I'll tell him I want to buy underclothes then if he gives me that while he won't be too bad I don't want to soak it all out of him like other women do I could often have written out a fine check for myself and written his name on it for a couple of pounds a few times he forgot to lock it up besides he won't spend it I'll let him do it off on me behind provided he doesn't smear all my good drawers oh I suppose that can't be helped I'll do the indifferent one or two questions I'll know by the answers when he's like that he can't keep a thing back I know every turn in him I'll tighten my bottom well and let out a few smutty words smell-rumper lick my shit or the first mad thing that comes into my head then I'll suggest about yes a wait now sending my turn is coming I'll be quite gay and friendly over it oh but I was forgetting this bloody pest of a thing you wouldn't know which to laugh or cry we're such a mixture of plum and apple no I'll have to wear the old thing so much the better it'll be more pointed he'll never know whether he did it or not there that's good enough for you any old thing at all then I'll wipe him off me just like a business his own mission then I'll go out I'll have him eyeing up at the ceiling where is she gone now make him want me that's the only way a quarter after the hour I suppose they're just getting up in China now combing out their pigtails for the day we'll soon have the nuns ringing the Angelus they've nobody coming in to spoil their sleep except an odd priest or two for his night office or the alarm clock next door at cock shout clattering the brains out of itself let me see if I can doze off one two three four five what kind of flowers are those they invented like the stars the wallpaper in Lombard Street was much nicer the apron he gave me was like that something only I only wore it twice better lower this lamp and try again so as I can get up early I'll go to lambs there beside fin ladders and get them to send us some flowers to put about the place in case he brings him home tomorrow today I mean no no Fridays an unlucky day first I want to do the place up some way the dust grows in it I think while I'm asleep then we can have music and cigarettes I can accompany him first I must clean the keys of the piano with milk what'll I wear shall I wear a white rose or those fairy cakes and Lipton's I love the smell of a rich big shop half shillings a pound or the other ones with the cherries in them and the pinky sugar I had a couple of pounds of those a nice plant for the middle of the table I'd get that cheaper and wait where's this I saw them not long ago I love flowers I'd love to have the whole place swimming in roses God of heaven there's nothing like nature the wild mountains then the sea and the waves rushing then the beautiful country with the fields of oats and wheat and all kinds of things and all the fine cattle going about that would do your heart good to see rivers and lakes and flowers all sorts of shapes and smells and colors springing up even out of the ditches primroses and violets nature it is as for them saying there's no God I wouldn't give a snap of my two fingers for all their learning why don't they go and create something I often asked him atheists or whatever they call themselves go and wash the cobbles off themselves first then they go howling for the priest and they dying and why why because they're afraid of hell on account of their bad conscience ah yes I know them well who was the first person in the universe before there was anybody that made it all true ah that they don't know neither do I so there you are they might as well try to stop the sun from rising tomorrow the sun shines for you he said the day we were lying among the roaded dendrons on Househead in the grey tweed suit in his straw hat the day I got him to propose to me yes first I gave him the bit of seed cake out of my mouth and it was leap year like now yes 16 years ago my God after that long kiss I near lost my breath yes he said I was a flower of the mountain yes so we are flowers all a women's body yes that was one true thing he said in his life and the sun shines for you today yes that was why I liked him because I saw he understood or felt what a woman is and I knew I could always get round him and I gave him all the pleasure I could leading him on till he asked me to say yes and I wouldn't answer first only looked out over the sea in the sky I was thinking of so many things he didn't know of Malveen Mr. Stanhope and Hester and father and old captain Groves and the sailors playing all words fly and I say stupid washing up dishes they called it on the pier and the sentry in front of the governor's house with the thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the Spanish girls laughing in their shawls and their tall combs and the auctions in the morning the Greeks and the Jews and the Arabs and the devil knows who else from all the ends of Europe and Duke Street and the foul market all clucking outside Larby Sharon's and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old guests and those handsome moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Rhonda with the old windows of the passata's two glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wine shops half open at night in the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras and the watchman going about serene with his lamp and oh that awful deep down torrent oh and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the fig trees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and the pink and blue and yellow houses and the rose gardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him is another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will yes Trieste Zurich Paris 1914 to 1921 end of section 63 and end of the Ulysses by James Joyce