Ulysses
—M’appari, Simon, Father Cowley said.
Down stage he strode some paces, grave, tall in afflic-
tion, his long arms outheld. Hoarsely the apple of his throat
hoarsed softly. Softly he sang to a dusty seascape there: A
Last Farewell. A headland, a ship, a sail upon the billows.
Farewell. A lovely girl, her veil awave upon the wind upon
the headland, wind around her.
Cowley sang:—M’appari tutt’amor:
Il mio sguardo l’incontr ...She waved, unhearing Cowley, her veil, to one departing,
dear one, to wind, love, speeding sail, return.
—Go on, Simon.
—Ah, sure, my dancing days are done, Ben ... Well ...
Mr Dedalus laid his pipe to rest beside the tuningfork
and, sitting, touched the obedient keys.
—No, Simon, Father Cowley turned. Play it in the origi-
nal. One flat.
The keys, obedient, rose higher, told, faltered, confessed,
confused.
Up stage strode Father Cowley.
—Here, Simon, I’ll accompany you, he said. Get up.
By Graham Lemon’s pineapple rock, by Elvery’s elephant
jingly jogged. Steak, kidney, liver, mashed, at meat fit for
princes sat princes Bloom and Goulding. Princes at meat
they raised and drank, Power and cider.
Most beautiful tenor air ever written, Richie said: Son-