Ulysses page-by-page: Page 119 (7.230-268) "What perfume... Lambert said."

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What perfume does your wife use? I could go home still: tram: something I forgot. Just to see: before: dressing. No. Here. No.

A sudden screech of laughter came from the Evening Telegraph office. Know who that is. What's up? Pop in a minute to phone. Ned Lambert it is.

He entered softly.

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ERIN, GREEN GEM OF THE SILVER SEA

Richard II II.1.41? 'This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall, Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands' [more]

cf p19 "Haines stopped to take out a smooth silver case in which twinkled a green stone."

— The ghost walks, professor MacHugh murmured softly, biscuitfully to the dusty windowpane.

"The ghost walks" = it's payday??

1901 and 1911

cf? p24 "A bag of figrolls lay snugly in Armstrong's satchel. He curled them between his palms at whiles and swallowed them softly. Crumbs adhered to the tissues of his lips. A sweetened boy's breath."

Ellmann: "MacHugh himself was, as his name suggests, Hugh MacNeill, a scholar of the classical modern languages, clever and lazy. Ordinarily careless in dress, he had for a time a position as teacher of romance languages at Maynooth, and so was obliged to wear hat and tailcoat; he usually left them unbrushed. Gogarty, speculating upon this garb, evidently made the remark, in mourning for Sallust,' which passes through Stephen's mind. MacNeill used to arrive early in the morning at the Evening Telegraph offices, read the paper, and remain all day. As the members of the staff arrived, he reprimanded them for being late. The title of professor was accorded him out of slightly ironic politeness, for in fact he never attained that eminence."

Mr Dedalus, staring from the empty fireplace at Ned Lambert's quizzing face, asked of it sourly:

— Agonising Christ, wouldn't it give you a heartburn on your arse?

Ned Lambert, seated on the table, read on:

— Or again, note the meanderings of some purling rill as it babbles on its way, tho' quarrelling with the stony obstacles, to the tumbling waters of Neptune's blue domain, 'mid mossy banks fanned by gentlest zephyrs, played on by the glorious sunlight or 'neath the shadows cast o'er its pensive bosom by the overarching leafage of the giants of the forest. What about that, Simon? he asked over the fringe of his newspaper. How's that for high?

— Changing his drink, Mr Dedalus said.

analysis

Ned Lambert, laughing, struck the newspaper on his knees, repeating:

— The pensive bosom and the overarsing leafage. O boys! O boys!

— And Xenophon looked upon Marathon, Mr Dedalus said, looking again on the fireplace and to the window, and Marathon looked on the sea.

— That will do, professor MacHugh cried from the window. I don't want to hear any more of the stuff.

He ate off the crescent of water biscuit he had been nibbling and, hungered, made ready to nibble the biscuit in his other hand.

High falutin stuff. Bladderbags. Ned Lambert is taking a day off I see. Rather upsets a man's day, a funeral does. He has influence they say. Old Chatterton, the vice-chancellor, is his granduncle or his greatgranduncle. Close on ninety they say. Subleader for his death written this long time perhaps. Living to spite them. Might go first himself. Johnny, make room for your uncle. The right honourable Hedges Eyre Chatterton. Daresay he writes him an odd shaky cheque or two on gale days. Windfall when he kicks out. Alleluia.

"Subleader" [def]

"Tommy make room for your uncle" [lyrics] [sheetmusic] [♬]