u02_nestor.xml

<div type="episode" n="02">
<p><lb n="020001"/><said who="sd">―You, Cochrane, what city sent for him?</said>
<lb n="020002"/><said who="co">―Tarentum, sir.</said>
<lb n="020003"/><said who="sd">―Very good. Well?</said>
<lb n="020004"/><said who="co">―There was a battle, sir.</said>
<lb n="020005"/><said who="sd">―Very good. Where?</said></p>
<p><lb n="020006"/>The boy's blank face asked the blank window.</p>
<p><lb n="020007"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Fabled by the daughters of memory. And yet it was in some way if not
<lb n="020008"/>as memory fabled it. A phrase, then, of impatience, thud of Blake's wings of
<lb n="020009"/>excess. I hear the ruin of all space, shattered glass and toppling masonry,
<lb n="020010"/>and time one livid final flame. What's left us then?</said>
<lb n="020011"/><said who="co">―I forget the place, sir. 279 B. C.</said>
<lb n="020012"/><said who="sd">―Asculum,</said> Stephen said, glancing at the name and date in the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">gorescarred</distinct>
<lb n="020013"/>book.
<lb n="020014"/><said who="co">―Yes, sir. And he said: <quote>Another victory like that and we are done for</quote>.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020015"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">That phrase the world had remembered. A dull ease of the mind.
<lb n="020016"/>From a hill above a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">corpsestrewn</distinct> plain a general speaking to his officers,
<lb n="020017"/>leaned upon his spear. Any general to any officers. They lend ear.</said>
<lb n="020018"/><said who="sd">―You, Armstrong,</said> Stephen said. <said who="sd">What was the end of Pyrrhus?</said>
<lb n="020019"/><said who="ar">―End of Pyrrhus, sir?</said>
<lb n="020020"/><said who="com">―I know, sir. Ask me, sir,</said> Comyn said.
<lb n="020021"/><said who="sd">―Wait. You, Armstrong. Do you know anything about Pyrrhus?</said></p>
<p><lb n="020022"/>A bag of <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">figrolls</distinct> lay snugly in Armstrong's satchel. He curled them
<lb n="020023"/>between his palms at whiles and swallowed them softly. Crumbs adhered to
<lb n="020024"/>the tissue of his lips. <said who="sd" aloud="false">A sweetened boy's breath. <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Welloff</distinct> people, proud that
<lb n="020025"/>their eldest son was in the navy. Vico road, Dalkey.</said>
<lb n="020026"/><said who="ar">―Pyrrhus, sir? Pyrrhus, a pier.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020027"/>All laughed. Mirthless high malicious laughter. Armstrong looked
<lb n="020028"/>round at his classmates, silly glee in profile. <said who="sd" aloud="false">In a moment they will laugh
<lb n="020029"/>more loudly, aware of my lack of rule and of the fees their papas pay.</said>
<lb n="020030"/><said who="sd">―Tell me now,</said> Stephen said, poking the boy's shoulder with the book, <said who="sd">what
<lb n="020031"/>is a pier.</said>
<lb n="020032"/><said who="ar">―A pier, sir,</said> Armstrong said. <said who="ar">A thing out in the water. A kind of a bridge.
<lb n="020033"/>Kingstown pier, sir.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020034"/>Some laughed again: mirthless but with meaning. Two in the back
<lb n="020035"/>bench whispered. <said who="sd" aloud="false">Yes. They knew: had never learned nor ever been
<lb n="020036"/>innocent. All.</said> With envy he watched their faces: Edith, Ethel, Gerty, Lily.
<lb n="020037"/>Their likes: their breaths, too, sweetened with tea and jam, their bracelets
<lb n="020038"/>tittering in the struggle.
<lb n="020039"/><said who="sd">―Kingstown pier,</said> Stephen said. <said who="sd">Yes, a disappointed bridge.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020040"/>The words troubled their gaze.
<lb n="020041"/><said who="com">―How, sir?</said> Comyn asked. <said who="com">A bridge is across a river.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020042"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">For Haines's chapbook. No-one here to hear. Tonight deftly amid
<lb n="020043"/>wild drink and talk, to pierce the polished mail of his mind. What then? A
<lb n="020044"/>jester at the court of his master, indulged and disesteemed, winning a
<lb n="020045"/>clement master's praise. Why had they chosen all that part? Not wholly for
<lb n="020046"/>the smooth caress. For them too history was a tale like any other too often
<lb n="020047"/>heard, their land a pawnshop.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020048"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Had Pyrrhus not fallen by a beldam's hand in Argos or Julius Caesar
<lb n="020049"/>not been knifed to death. They are not to be thought away. Time has
<lb n="020050"/>branded them and fettered they are lodged in the room of the infinite
<lb n="020051"/>possibilities they have ousted. But can those have been possible seeing that
<lb n="020052"/>they never were? Or was that only possible which came to pass? Weave,
<lb n="020053"/>weaver of the wind.</said>
<lb n="020054"/><said who="ustud">―Tell us a story, sir.</said>
<lb n="020055"/><said who="ustud">―O, do, sir. A <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">ghoststory</distinct>.</said>
<lb n="020056"/><said who="sd">―Where do you begin in this?</said> Stephen asked, opening another book.
<lb n="020057"/><said who="com">―<quote>Weep no more</quote>,</said> Comyn said.
<lb n="020058"/><said who="sd">―Go on then, Talbot.</said>
<lb n="020059"/><said who="ustud">―And the story, sir?</said>
<lb n="020060"/><said who="sd">―After,</said> Stephen said. <said who="sd">Go on, Talbot.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020061"/>A swarthy boy opened a book and propped it nimbly under the
<lb n="020062"/>breastwork of his satchel. He recited jerks of verse with odd glances at the
<lb n="020063"/>text:
<lb n="020064"/><said who="ta">―<quote>Weep no more, <distinct type="archaism">woful</distinct> shepherds, weep no more
<lb n="020065"/>For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead,
<lb n="020066"/>Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor</quote> ....</said></p>
<p><lb n="020067"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">It must be a movement then, an actuality of the possible as possible.
<lb n="020068"/>Aristotle's phrase formed itself within the gabbled verses and floated out
<lb n="020069"/>into the studious silence of the library of Saint Genevieve where he had
<lb n="020070"/>read, sheltered from the sin of Paris, night by night. By his elbow a delicate
<lb n="020071"/>Siamese conned a handbook of strategy. Fed and feeding brains about me:
<lb n="020072"/>under <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">glowlamps</distinct>, impaled, with faintly beating feelers: and in my mind's
<lb n="020073"/>darkness a sloth of the underworld, reluctant, shy of brightness, shifting her
<lb n="020074"/>dragon scaly folds. Thought is the thought of thought. Tranquil brightness.
<lb n="020075"/>The soul is in a manner all that is: the soul is the form of forms. Tranquility
<lb n="020076"/>sudden, vast, candescent: form of forms.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020077"/>Talbot repeated:
<lb n="020078"/><said who="ta">―<quote>Through the dear might of Him that walked the waves,
<lb n="020079"/>Through the dear might</quote> .....</said>
<lb n="020080"/><said who="sd">―Turn over,</said> Stephen said quietly. <said who="sd">I don't see anything.</said>
<lb n="020081"/><said who="ta">―What, sir?</said> Talbot asked simply, bending forward.</p>
<p><lb n="020082"/>His hand turned the page over. He leaned back and went on again,
<lb n="020083"/>having just remembered. <said who="sd" aloud="false">Of him that walked the waves. Here also over
<lb n="020084"/>these craven hearts his shadow lies and on the scoffer's heart and lips and
<lb n="020085"/>on mine. It lies upon their eager faces who offered him a coin of the tribute.
<lb n="020086"/>To Caesar what is Caesar's, to God what is God's. A long look from dark
<lb n="020087"/>eyes, a riddling sentence to be woven and woven on the church's looms. Ay.</said></p>
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="020088"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><l>Riddle me, riddle me, randy ro.</l>
<lb n="020089"/><l>My father gave me seeds to sow.</l></said></lg></quote>
<p><lb n="020090"/>Talbot slid his closed book into his satchel.
<lb n="020091"/><said who="sd">―Have I heard all?</said> Stephen asked.
<lb n="020092"/><said who="ustud">―Yes, sir. Hockey at ten, sir.</said>
<lb n="020093"/><said who="ustud">―Half day, sir. Thursday.</said>
<lb n="020094"/><said who="sd">―Who can answer a riddle?</said> Stephen asked.</p>
<p><lb n="020095"/>They bundled their books away, pencils clacking, pages rustling.
<lb n="020096"/>Crowding together they strapped and buckled their satchels, all gabbling
<lb n="020097"/>gaily:
<lb n="020098"/><said who="ustud">―A riddle, sir? Ask me, sir.</said>
<lb n="020099"/><said who="ustud">―O, ask me, sir.</said>
<lb n="020100"/><said who="ustud">―A hard one, sir.</said>
<lb n="020101"/><said who="sd">―This is the riddle,</said> Stephen said:</p>
<said who="sd"><quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="020102"/><l>The cock crew,</l>
<lb n="020103"/><l>The sky was blue:</l>
<lb n="020104"/><l>The bells in heaven</l>
<lb n="020105"/><l>Were striking eleven.</l>
<lb n="020106"/><l>'Tis time for this poor soul</l>
<lb n="020107"/><l>To go to heaven.</l></lg></quote></said>
<p><lb n="020108"/><said who="sd">What is that?</said>
<lb n="020109"/><said who="ustud">―What, sir?</said>
<lb n="020110"/><said who="ustud">―Again, sir. We didn't hear.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020111"/>Their eyes grew bigger as the lines were repeated. After a silence
<lb n="020112"/>Cochrane said:
<lb n="020113"/><said who="co">―What is it, sir? We give it up.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020114"/>Stephen, his throat itching, answered:
<lb n="020115"/><said who="sd">―The fox burying his grandmother under a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">hollybush</distinct>.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020116"/>He stood up and gave a shout of nervous laughter to which their cries
<lb n="020117"/>echoed dismay.</p>
<p><lb n="020118"/>A stick struck the door and a voice in the corridor called:
<lb n="020119"/><said who="gd">―Hockey!</said></p>
<p><lb n="020120"/>They broke asunder, sidling out of their benches, leaping them.
<lb n="020121"/>Quickly they were gone and from the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">lumberroom</distinct> came the rattle of sticks
<lb n="020122"/>and clamour of their boots and tongues.</p>
<p><lb n="020123"/>Sargent who alone had lingered came forward slowly, showing an
<lb n="020124"/>open copybook. His thick hair and scraggy neck gave witness of
<lb n="020125"/>unreadiness and through his misty glasses weak eyes looked up pleading.
<lb n="020126"/>On his cheek, dull and bloodless, a soft stain of ink lay, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">dateshaped</distinct>, recent
<lb n="020127"/>and damp as a snail's bed.</p>
<p><lb n="020128"/>He held out his copybook. The word <q>Sums</q> was written on the
<lb n="020129"/>headline. Beneath were sloping figures and at the foot a crooked signature
<lb n="020130"/>with blind loops and a blot. Cyril Sargent: his name and seal.
<lb n="020131"/><said who="sa">―Mr Deasy told me to write them out all again,</said> he said, <said who="sa">and show them to
<lb n="020132"/>you, sir.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020133"/>Stephen touched the edges of the book. Futility.
<lb n="020134"/><said who="sd">―Do you understand how to do them now?</said> he asked.
<lb n="020135"/><said who="sa">―Numbers eleven to fifteen,</said> Sargent answered. <said who="sa">Mr Deasy said I was to
<lb n="020136"/>copy them off the board, sir.</said>
<lb n="020137"/><said who="sd">―Can you do them yourself?</said> Stephen asked.
<lb n="020138"/><said who="sa">―No, sir.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020139"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Ugly and futile: lean neck and thick hair and a stain of ink, a snail's
<lb n="020140"/>bed. Yet someone had loved him, borne him in her arms and in her heart.
<lb n="020141"/>But for her the race of the world would have trampled him underfoot, a
<lb n="020142"/>squashed boneless snail. She had loved his weak watery blood drained from
<lb n="020143"/>her own. Was that then real? The only true thing in life? His mother's
<lb n="020144"/>prostrate body the fiery Columbanus in holy zeal bestrode. She was no
<lb n="020145"/>more: the trembling skeleton of a twig burnt in the fire, an odour of
<lb n="020146"/>rosewood and wetted ashes. She had saved him from being trampled
<lb n="020147"/>underfoot and had gone, scarcely having been. A poor soul gone to heaven:
<lb n="020148"/>and on a heath beneath winking stars a fox, red reek of rapine in his fur,
<lb n="020149"/>with merciless bright eyes scraped in the earth, listened, scraped up the
<lb n="020150"/>earth, listened, scraped and scraped.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020151"/>Sitting at his side Stephen solved out the problem. He proves by
<lb n="020152"/>algebra that Shakespeare's ghost is Hamlet's grandfather. Sargent peered
<lb n="020153"/>askance through his slanted glasses. <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Hockeysticks</distinct> rattled in the
<lb n="020154"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">lumberroom</distinct>: the hollow knock of a ball and calls from the field.</p>
<p><lb n="020155"/>Across the page the symbols moved in grave <distinct type="archaism">morrice</distinct>, in the mummery
<lb n="020156"/>of their letters, wearing quaint caps of squares and cubes. Give hands,
<lb n="020157"/>traverse, bow to partner: so: imps of fancy of the Moors. Gone too from
<lb n="020158"/>the world, Averroes and Moses Maimonides, dark men in mien and
<lb n="020159"/>movement, flashing in their mocking mirrors the obscure soul of the world,
<lb n="020160"/>a darkness shining in brightness which brightness could not comprehend.
<lb n="020161"/><said who="sd">―Do you understand now? Can you work the second for yourself?</said>
<lb n="020162"/><said who="sa">―Yes, sir.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020163"/>In long shaky strokes Sargent copied the data. Waiting always for a
<lb n="020164"/>word of help his hand moved faithfully the unsteady symbols, a faint hue of
<lb n="020165"/>shame flickering behind his dull skin. <foreign xml:lang="la">Amor matris</foreign>: subjective and objective
<lb n="020166"/>genitive. With her weak blood and <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">wheysour</distinct> milk she had fed him and hid
<lb n="020167"/>from sight of others his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">swaddlingbands</distinct>.</p>
<p><lb n="020168"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Like him was I, these sloping shoulders, this gracelessness. My
<lb n="020169"/>childhood bends beside me. Too far for me to lay a hand there once or
<lb n="020170"/>lightly. Mine is far and his secret as our eyes. Secrets, silent, stony sit in the
<lb n="020171"/>dark palaces of both our hearts: secrets weary of their tyranny: tyrants,
<lb n="020172"/>willing to be dethroned.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020173"/>The sum was done.
<lb n="020174"/><said who="sd">―It is very simple,</said> Stephen said as he stood up.
<lb n="020175"/><said who="sa">―Yes, sir. Thanks,</said> Sargent answered.</p>
<p><lb n="020176"/>He dried the page with a sheet of thin <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">blottingpaper</distinct> and carried his
<lb n="020177"/>copybook back to his bench.
<lb n="020178"/><said who="sd">―You had better get your stick and go out to the others,</said> Stephen said as he
<lb n="020179"/>followed towards the door the boy's graceless form.
<lb n="020180"/><said who="sa">―Yes, sir.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020181"/>In the corridor his name was heard, called from the playfield.
<lb n="020182"/><said who="gd">―Sargent!</said>
<lb n="020183"/><said who="sd">―Run on,</said> Stephen said. <said who="sd">Mr Deasy is calling you.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020184"/>He stood in the porch and watched the laggard hurry towards the
<lb n="020185"/>scrappy field where sharp voices were in strife. They were sorted in teams
<lb n="020186"/>and Mr Deasy came away stepping over wisps of grass with gaitered feet.
<lb n="020187"/>When he had reached the schoolhouse voices again contending called to
<lb n="020188"/>him. He turned his angry white moustache.
<lb n="020189"/><said who="gd">―What is it now?</said> he cried continually without listening.
<lb n="020190"/><said who="sd">―Cochrane and Halliday are on the same side, sir,</said> Stephen said.
<lb n="020191"/><said who="gd">―Will you wait in my study for a moment,</said> Mr Deasy said, <said who="gd">till I restore
<lb n="020192"/>order here.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020193"/>And as he stepped fussily back across the field his old man's voice
<lb n="020194"/>cried sternly:
<lb n="020195"/><said who="gd">―What is the matter? What is it now?</said></p>
<p><lb n="020196"/>Their sharp voices cried about him on all sides: their many forms
<lb n="020197"/>closed round him, the garish sunshine bleaching the honey of his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">illdyed</distinct>
<lb n="020198"/>head.</p>
<p><lb n="020199"/>Stale smoky air hung in the study with the smell of drab abraded
<lb n="020200"/>leather of its chairs. <said who="sd" aloud="false">As on the first day he bargained with me here. As it was
<lb n="020201"/>in the beginning, is now. On the sideboard the tray of Stuart coins, base
<lb n="020202"/>treasure of a bog: and ever shall be. And snug in their <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">spooncase</distinct> of purple
<lb n="020203"/>plush, faded, the twelve apostles having preached to all the gentiles: world
<lb n="020204"/>without end.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020205"/>A hasty step over the stone porch and in the corridor. Blowing out his
<lb n="020206"/>rare moustache Mr Deasy halted at the table.
<lb n="020207"/><said who="gd">―First, our little financial settlement,</said> he said.</p>
<p><lb n="020208"/>He brought out of his coat a pocketbook bound by a leather thong. It
<lb n="020209"/>slapped open and he took from it two notes, one of joined halves, and laid
<lb n="020210"/>them carefully on the table.
<lb n="020211"/><said who="gd">―Two,</said> he said, strapping and stowing his pocketbook away.</p>
<p><lb n="020212"/>And now his strongroom for the gold. Stephen's embarrassed hand
<lb n="020213"/>moved over the shells heaped in the cold stone mortar: <said who="sd" aloud="false">whelks and money
<lb n="020214"/>cowries and leopard shells: and this, whorled as an emir's turban, and this,
<lb n="020215"/>the scallop of saint James. An old pilgrim's hoard, dead treasure, hollow
<lb n="020216"/>shells.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020217"/>A sovereign fell, bright and new, on the soft pile of the tablecloth.
<lb n="020218"/><said who="gd">―Three,</said> Mr Deasy said, turning his little <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">savingsbox</distinct> about in his hand.
<said who="gd"><lb n="020219"/>These are handy things to have. See. This is for sovereigns. This is for
<lb n="020220"/>shillings. Sixpences, <distinct type="compound">halfcrowns</distinct>. And here crowns. See.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020221"/>He shot from it two crowns and two shillings.
<lb n="020222"/><said who="gd">―Three twelve,</said> he said. <said who="gd">I think you'll find that's right.</said>
<lb n="020223"/><said who="sd">―Thank you, sir,</said> Stephen said, gathering the money together with shy
<lb n="020224"/>haste and putting it all in a pocket of his trousers.
<lb n="020225"/><said who="gd">―No thanks at all,</said> Mr Deasy said. <said who="gd">You have earned it.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020226"/>Stephen's hand, free again, went back to the hollow shells. <said who="sd" aloud="false">Symbols
<lb n="020227"/>too of beauty and of power. A lump in my pocket: symbols soiled by greed
<lb n="020228"/>and misery.</said>
<lb n="020229"/><said who="gd">―Don't carry it like that,</said> Mr Deasy said. <said who="gd">You'll pull it out somewhere and
<lb n="020230"/>lose it. You just buy one of these machines. You'll find them very handy.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020231"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Answer something.</said>
<lb n="020232"/><said who="sd">―Mine would be often empty,</said> Stephen said.</p>
<p><lb n="020233"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">The same room and hour, the same wisdom: and I the same. Three
<lb n="020234"/>times now. Three nooses round me here. Well? I can break them in this
<lb n="020235"/>instant if I will.</said>
<lb n="020236"/><said who="gd">―Because you don't save,</said> Mr Deasy said, pointing his finger. <said who="gd">You don't
<lb n="020237"/>know yet what money is. Money is power. When you have lived as long as I
<lb n="020238"/>have. I know, I know. <quote>If youth but knew.</quote> But what does Shakespeare say?
<lb n="020239"/><quote>Put but money in thy purse.</quote></said>
<lb n="020240"/><said who="sd">―Iago,</said> Stephen murmured.</p>
<p><lb n="020241"/>He lifted his gaze from the idle shells to the old man's stare.
<lb n="020242"/><said who="gd">―He knew what money was,</said> Mr Deasy said. <said who="gd">He made money. A poet, yes,
<lb n="020243"/>but an Englishman too. Do you know what is the pride of the English? Do
<lb n="020244"/>you know what is the proudest word you will ever hear from an
<lb n="020245"/>Englishman's mouth?</said></p>
<p><lb n="020246"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">The seas' ruler. His <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">seacold</distinct> eyes looked on the empty bay: it seems
<lb n="020247"/>history is to blame: on me and on my words, unhating.</said>
<lb n="020248"/><said who="sd">―That on his empire,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">the sun never sets.</said>
<lb n="020249"/><said who="gd">―Ba!</said> Mr Deasy cried. <said who="gd">That's not English. A French Celt said that.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020250"/>He tapped his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">savingsbox</distinct> against his thumbnail.
<lb n="020251"/><said who="gd">―I will tell you,</said> he said solemnly, <said who="gd">what is his proudest boast. <said who="ueng" direct="false" rend="italics">I paid my way.</said></said></p>
<p><lb n="020252"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Good man, good man.</said>
<lb n="020253"/><said who="gd">―<said who="ueng" direct="false" rend="italics">I paid my way. I never borrowed a shilling in my life.</said> Can you feel that? <said who="ueng" direct="false" rend="italics">I
<lb n="020254"/>owe nothing.</said> Can you?</said></p>
<p><lb n="020255"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Mulligan, nine pounds, three pairs of socks, one pair brogues, ties.
<lb n="020256"/>Curran, ten guineas. McCann, one guinea. Fred Ryan, two shillings.
<lb n="020257"/>Temple, two lunches. Russell, one guinea, Cousins, ten shillings, Bob
<lb n="020258"/>Reynolds, half a guinea, Koehler, three guineas, Mrs MacKernan, five
<lb n="020259"/>weeks' board. The lump I have is useless.</said>
<lb n="020260"/><said who="sd">―For the moment, no,</said> Stephen answered.</p>
<p><lb n="020261"/>Mr Deasy laughed with rich delight, putting back his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">savingsbox</distinct>.
<lb n="020262"/><said who="gd">―I knew you couldn't,</said> he said joyously. <said who="gd">But one day you must feel it. We
<lb n="020263"/>are a generous people but we must also be just.</said>
<lb n="020264"/><said who="sd">―I fear those big words,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">which make us so unhappy.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020265"/>Mr Deasy stared sternly for some moments over the mantelpiece at
<lb n="020266"/>the shapely bulk of a man in tartan filibegs: Albert Edward, prince of
<lb n="020267"/>Wales.
<lb n="020268"/><said who="gd">―You think me an old fogey and an old tory,</said> his thoughtful voice said. <said who="gd">I
<lb n="020269"/>saw three generations since O'Connell's time. I remember the famine in '46.
<lb n="020270"/>Do you know that the orange lodges agitated for repeal of the union twenty
<lb n="020271"/>years before O'Connell did or before the prelates of your communion
<lb n="020272"/>denounced him as a demagogue? You <distinct type="dialect">fenians</distinct> forget some things.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020273"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Glorious, pious and immortal memory. The lodge of Diamond in
<lb n="020274"/>Armagh the splendid <distinct type="archaism">behung</distinct> with corpses of <distinct type="dialect">papishes.</distinct> Hoarse, masked and
<lb n="020275"/>armed, the planters' covenant. The black north and true blue bible.
<lb n="020276"/>Croppies lie down.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020277"/>Stephen sketched a brief gesture.
<lb n="020278"/><said who="gd">―I have rebel blood in me too,</said> Mr Deasy said. <said who="gd">On the spindle side. But I
<lb n="020279"/>am descended from sir John Blackwood who voted for the union. We are all
<lb n="020280"/>Irish, all kings' sons.</said>
<lb n="020281"/><said who="sd">―Alas,</said> Stephen said.
<lb n="020282"/><said who="gd">―<foreign xml:lang="la">Per vias rectas</foreign>,</said> Mr Deasy said firmly, <said who="gd">was his motto. He voted for it and
<lb n="020283"/>put on his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">topboots</distinct> to ride to Dublin from the Ards of Down to do so.</said></p>
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="020284"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><l>Lal the ral the ra</l>
<lb n="020285"/><l>The rocky road to Dublin.</l></said></lg></quote>
<p><lb n="020286"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">A gruff squire on horseback with shiny <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">topboots</distinct>. Soft day, sir John!
<lb n="020287"/>Soft day, your honour! .... Day! .... Day! .... Two <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">topboots</distinct> jog dangling on
<lb n="020288"/>to Dublin. Lal the ral the ra. Lal the ral the raddy.</said>
<lb n="020289"/><said who="gd">―That reminds me,</said> Mr Deasy said. <said who="gd">You can do me a favour, Mr Dedalus,
<lb n="020290"/>with some of your literary friends. I have a letter here for the press. Sit
<lb n="020291"/>down a moment. I have just to copy the end.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020292"/>He went to the desk near the window, pulled in his chair twice and
<lb n="020293"/>read off some words from the sheet on the drum of his typewriter.
<lb n="020294"/><said who="gd">―Sit down. Excuse me,</said> he said over his shoulder, <said who="gd"><q>the dictates of common
<lb n="020295"/>sense</q>. Just a moment.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020296"/>He peered from under his shaggy brows at the manuscript by his
<lb n="020297"/>elbow and, muttering, began to prod the stiff buttons of the keyboard
<lb n="020298"/>slowly, sometimes blowing as he screwed up the drum to erase an error.</p>
<p><lb n="020299"/>Stephen seated himself noiselessly before the princely presence.
<lb n="020300"/>Framed around the walls images of vanished horses stood in homage, their
<lb n="020301"/>meek heads poised in air: lord Hastings' <name type="horse">Repulse</name>, the duke of
<lb n="020302"/>Westminster's <name type="horse">Shotover</name>, the duke of Beaufort's <name type="horse">Ceylon</name>, <foreign xml:lang="fr">prix de Paris</foreign>,
<lb n="020303"/>1866. Elfin riders sat them, watchful of a sign. He saw their speeds, backing
<lb n="020304"/>king's colours, and shouted with the shouts of vanished crowds.
<lb n="020305"/><said who="gd">―Full stop,</said> Mr Deasy bade his keys. <said who="gd"><q>But prompt ventilation of this
<lb n="020306"/><distinct type="compound">allimportant</distinct> question</q> ....</said></p>
<p><lb n="020307"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Where Cranly led me to get rich quick, hunting his winners among
<lb n="020308"/>the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">mudsplashed</distinct> brakes, amid the bawls of bookies on their pitches and
<lb n="020309"/>reek of the canteen, over the motley slush. <name type="horse">Fair Rebel</name>! <name type="horse">Fair Rebel</name>! Even
<lb n="020310"/>money the favourite: ten to one the field. Dicers and thimbleriggers we
<lb n="020311"/>hurried by after the hoofs, the vying caps and jackets and past the
<lb n="020312"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">meatfaced</distinct> woman, a butcher's dame, nuzzling thirstily her clove of orange.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020313"/>Shouts rang shrill from the boys' playfield and a whirring whistle.</p>
<p><lb n="020314"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Again: a goal. I am among them, among their battling bodies in a
<lb n="020315"/>medley, the joust of life. You mean that <distinct type="compound">knockkneed</distinct> mother's darling who
<lb n="020316"/>seems to be slightly <distinct type="dialect">crawsick</distinct>? Jousts. Time shocked rebounds, shock by
<lb n="020317"/>shock. Jousts, slush and uproar of battles, the frozen <distinct type="Joycean">deathspew</distinct> of the slain,
<lb n="020318"/>a shout of <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">spearspikes</distinct> baited with men's bloodied guts.</said>
<lb n="020319"/><said who="gd">―Now then,</said> Mr Deasy said, rising.</p>
<p><lb n="020320"/>He came to the table, pinning together his sheets. Stephen stood up.
<lb n="020321"/><said who="gd">―I have put the matter into a nutshell,</said> Mr Deasy said. <said who="gd">It's about the foot
<lb n="020322"/>and mouth disease. Just look through it. There can be no two opinions on
<lb n="020323"/>the matter.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020324"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">May I trespass on your valuable space. That doctrine of <foreign xml:lang="fr">laissez faire</foreign>
<lb n="020325"/>which so often in our history. Our cattle trade. The way of all our old
<lb n="020326"/>industries. Liverpool ring which jockeyed the Galway harbour scheme.
<lb n="020327"/>European conflagration. Grain supplies through the narrow waters of the
<lb n="020328"/>channel. The pluterperfect imperturbability of the department of
<lb n="020329"/>agriculture. Pardoned a classical allusion. Cassandra. By a woman who
<lb n="020330"/>was no better than she should be. To come to the point at issue.</said>
<lb n="020331"/><said who="gd">―I don't mince words, do I?</said> Mr Deasy asked as Stephen read on.</p>
<p><lb n="020332"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Foot and mouth disease. Known as Koch's preparation. Serum and
<lb n="020333"/>virus. Percentage of salted horses. Rinderpest. Emperor's horses at
<lb n="020334"/>Mürzsteg, lower Austria. Veterinary surgeons. Mr Henry Blackwood Price.
<lb n="020335"/>Courteous offer a fair trial. Dictates of common sense. <distinct type="compound">Allimportant</distinct>
<lb n="020336"/>question. In every sense of the word take the bull by the horns. Thanking
<lb n="020337"/>you for the hospitality of your columns.</said>
<lb n="020338"/><said who="gd">―I want that to be printed and read,</said> Mr Deasy said. <said who="gd">You will see at the next
<lb n="020339"/>outbreak they will put an embargo on Irish cattle. And it can be cured. It is
<lb n="020340"/>cured. My cousin, Blackwood Price, writes to me it is regularly treated and
<lb n="020341"/>cured in Austria by <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">cattledoctors</distinct> there. They offer to come over here. I am
<lb n="020342"/>trying to work up influence with the department. Now I'm going to try
<lb n="020343"/>publicity. I am surrounded by difficulties, by .... intrigues by ..... backstairs
<lb n="020344"/>influence by .....</said></p>
<p><lb n="020345"/>He raised his forefinger and beat the air oldly before his voice spoke.
<lb n="020346"/><said who="gd">―Mark my words, Mr Dedalus,</said> he said. <said who="gd">England is in the hands of the
<lb n="020347"/>jews. In all the highest places: her finance, her press. And they are the signs
<lb n="020348"/>of a nation's decay. Wherever they gather they eat up the nation's vital
<lb n="020349"/>strength. I have seen it coming these years. As sure as we are standing here
<lb n="020350"/>the jew merchants are already at their work of destruction. Old England is
<lb n="020351"/>dying.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020352"/>He stepped swiftly off, his eyes coming to blue life as they passed a
<lb n="020353"/>broad sunbeam. He faced about and back again.
<lb n="020354"/><said who="gd">―Dying,</said> he said again, <said who="gd">if not dead by now.</said></p>
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="020355"/><l>The harlot's cry from street to street</l>
<lb n="020356"/><l>Shall weave old England's <distinct type="compound">windingsheet</distinct>.</l></lg></quote>    
<p><lb n="020357"/>His eyes open wide in vision stared sternly across the sunbeam in
<lb n="020358"/>which he halted.
<lb n="020359"/><said who="sd">―A merchant,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">is one who buys cheap and sells dear, jew or
<lb n="020360"/>gentile, is he not?</said>
<lb n="020361"/><said who="gd">―They sinned against the light,</said> Mr Deasy said gravely. <said who="gd">And you can see the
<lb n="020362"/>darkness in their eyes. And that is why they are wanderers on the earth to
<lb n="020363"/>this day.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020364"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">On the steps of the Paris stock exchange the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">goldskinned</distinct> men quoting
<lb n="020365"/>prices on their gemmed fingers. Gabble of geese. They swarmed loud,
<lb n="020366"/>uncouth, about the temple, their heads <distinct type="Joycean">thickplotting</distinct> under maladroit silk
<lb n="020367"/>hats. Not theirs: these clothes, this speech, these gestures. Their full slow
<lb n="020368"/>eyes belied the words, the gestures eager and unoffending, but knew the
<lb n="020369"/>rancours massed about them and knew their zeal was vain. Vain patience to
<lb n="020370"/>heap and hoard. Time surely would scatter all. A hoard heaped by the
<lb n="020371"/>roadside: plundered and passing on. Their eyes knew their years of
<lb n="020372"/>wandering and, patient, knew the dishonours of their flesh.</said>
<lb n="020373"/><said who="sd">―Who has not?</said> Stephen said.
<lb n="020374"/><said who="gd">―What do you mean?</said> Mr Deasy asked.</p>
<p><lb n="020375"/>He came forward a pace and stood by the table. His <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">underjaw</distinct> fell
<lb n="020376"/>sideways open uncertainly. <said who="sd" aloud="false">Is this old wisdom? He waits to hear from me.</said>
<lb n="020377"/><said who="sd">―History,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020378"/>From the playfield the boys raised a shout. A whirring whistle: goal.
<lb n="020379"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">What if that nightmare gave you a back kick?</said>
<lb n="020380"/><said who="gd">―The ways of the Creator are not our ways,</said> Mr Deasy said. <said who="gd">All human
<lb n="020381"/>history moves towards one great goal, the manifestation of God.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020382"/>Stephen jerked his thumb towards the window, saying:
<lb n="020383"/><said who="sd">―That is God.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020384"/>Hooray! Ay! Whrrwhee!
<lb n="020385"/><said who="gd">―What?</said> Mr Deasy asked.
<lb n="020386"/><said who="sd">―A shout in the street,</said> Stephen answered, shrugging his shoulders.</p>
<p><lb n="020387"/>Mr Deasy looked down and held for awhile the wings of his nose
<lb n="020388"/>tweaked between his fingers. Looking up again he set them free.
<lb n="020389"/><said who="gd">―I am happier than you are,</said> he said. <said who="gd">We have committed many errors and
<lb n="020390"/>many sins. A woman brought sin into the world. For a woman who was no
<lb n="020391"/>better than she should be, Helen, the runaway wife of Menelaus, ten years
<lb n="020392"/>the Greeks made war on Troy. A faithless wife first brought the strangers to
<lb n="020393"/>our shore here, MacMurrough's wife and her leman, O'Rourke, prince of
<lb n="020394"/>Breffni. A woman too brought Parnell low. Many errors, many failures but
<lb n="020395"/>not the one sin. I am a struggler now at the end of my days. But I will fight
<lb n="020396"/>for the right till the end.</said></p>
<said who="sd" aloud="false"><quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="020397"/><l>For Ulster will fight</l>
<lb n="020398"/><l>And Ulster will be right.</l></lg></quote></said>
<p><lb n="020399"/>Stephen raised the sheets in his hand.
<lb n="020400"/><said who="sd">―Well, sir,</said> he began .....
<lb n="020401"/><said who="gd">―I foresee,</said> Mr Deasy said, <said who="gd">that you will not remain here very long at this
<lb n="020402"/>work. You were not born to be a teacher, I think. Perhaps I am wrong.</said>
<lb n="020403"/><said who="sd">―A learner rather,</said> Stephen said.</p>
<p><lb n="020404"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">And here what will you learn more?</said></p>
<p><lb n="020405"/>Mr Deasy shook his head.
<lb n="020406"/><said who="gd">―Who knows?</said> he said. <said who="gd">To learn one must be humble. But life is the great
<lb n="020407"/>teacher.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020408"/>Stephen rustled the sheets again.
<lb n="020409"/><said who="sd">―As regards these,</said> he began .....
<lb n="020410"/><said who="gd">―Yes,</said> Mr Deasy said. <said who="gd">You have two copies there. If you can have them
<lb n="020411"/>published at once.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020412"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Telegraph. Irish Homestead.</said>
<lb n="020413"/><said who="sd">―I will try,</said> Stephen said, <said who="sd">and let you know tomorrow. I know two editors
<lb n="020414"/>slightly.</said>
<lb n="020415"/><said who="gd">―That will do,</said> Mr Deasy said briskly. <said who="gd">I wrote last night to Mr Field, M. P.
<lb n="020416"/>There is a meeting of the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">cattletraders'</distinct> association today at the City Arms
<lb n="020417"/>hotel. I asked him to lay my letter before the meeting. You see if you can get
<lb n="020418"/>it into your two papers. What are they?</said>
<lb n="020419"/><said who="sd">―The <title type="newspaper">Evening Telegraph</title> .....</said>
<lb n="020420"/><said who="gd">―That will do,</said> Mr Deasy said. <said who="gd">There is no time to lose. Now I have to
<lb n="020421"/>answer that letter from my cousin.</said>
<lb n="020422"/><said  who="sd">―Good morning, sir,</said> Stephen said, putting the sheets in his pocket. <said who="sd">Thank
<lb n="020423"/>you.</said>
<lb n="020424"/><said who="gd">―Not at all,</said> Mr Deasy said as he searched the papers on his desk. <said who="gd">I like to
<lb n="020425"/>break a lance with you, old as I am.</said>
<lb n="020426"/><said who="sd">―Good morning, sir,</said> Stephen said again, bowing to his bent back.</p>
<p><lb n="020427"/>He went out by the open porch and down the gravel path under the
<lb n="020428"/>trees, hearing the cries of voices and crack of sticks from the playfield. The
<lb n="020429"/>lions couchant on the pillars as he passed out through the gate: <said who="sd" aloud="false">toothless
<lb n="020430"/>terrors. Still I will help him in his fight. Mulligan will dub me a new name:
<lb n="020431"/>the <distinct type="Joycean">bullockbefriending</distinct> bard.</said>
<lb n="020432"/><said who="gd">―Mr Dedalus!</said></p>
<p><lb n="020433"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Running after me. No more letters, I hope.</said>
<lb n="020434"/><said who="gd">―Just one moment.</said>
<lb n="020435"/><said who="sd">―Yes, sir,</said> Stephen said, turning back at the gate.</p>
<p><lb n="020436"/>Mr Deasy halted, breathing hard and swallowing his breath.
<lb n="020437"/><said who="gd">―I just wanted to say,</said> he said. <said who="gd">Ireland, they say, has the honour of being
<lb n="020438"/>the only country which never persecuted the jews. Do you know that? No.
<lb n="020439"/>And do you know why?</said></p>
<p><lb n="020440"/>He frowned sternly on the bright air.
<lb n="020441"/><said who="sd">―Why, sir?</said> Stephen asked, beginning to smile.
<lb n="020442"/><said who="gd">―Because she never let them in,</said> Mr Deasy said solemnly.</p>
<p><lb n="020443"/>A <distinct type="Joycean">coughball</distinct> of laughter leaped from his throat dragging after it a
<lb n="020444"/>rattling chain of phlegm. He turned back quickly, coughing, laughing, his
<lb n="020445"/>lifted arms waving to the air.
<lb n="020446"/><said who="gd">―She never let them in,</said> he cried again through his laughter as he stamped
<lb n="020447"/>on gaitered feet over the gravel of the path. <said who="gd">That's why.</said></p>
<p><lb n="020448"/>On his wise shoulders through the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">checkerwork</distinct> of leaves the sun
<lb n="020449"/>flung spangles, dancing coins.</p>
</div> <!-- End of Episode 2, "Nestor" -->