THE CHOIR
Liliata rutilantium te confessorum . . .
Iubilantium te virginum . . .
(From the top of a tower Buck Mulligan, in particoloured jester’s dress of puce and yellow and clown’s cap with curling bell, stands gaping at her, a smoking buttered split scone in his hand.)
BUCK MULLIGAN
She’s beastly dead. The pity of it! Mulligan meets the afflicted mother. (He upturns his eyes.) Mercurial Malachi.
THE MOTHER
(With the subtle smile of death’s madness.) I was once the beautiful May Goulding. I am dead.
STEPHEN
(Horrorstruck.) Lemur, who are you? What bogeyman’s trick is this?
BUCK MULLIGAN
(Shakes his curling capbell.) The mockery of it! Kinch killed her dogsbody bitchbody. She kicked the bucket. (Tears of molten butter fall from his eyes into the scone.) Our great sweet mother!
