Page 1085 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

part of seventytwo out of eighty odd constituencies that
ratted at the time of the split and chiefly the belauded
peasant class, probably the selfsame evicted tenants he had
put in their holdings.

So they turned on to chatting about music, a form of
art for which Bloom, as a pure amateur, possessed the
greatest love, as they made tracks arm in arm across
Beresford place. Wagnerian music, though confessedly
grand in its way, was a bit too heavy for Bloom and hard
to follow at the first go-off but the music of Mercadante’s
Huguenots, Meyerbeer’s Seven Last Words on the Cross and
Mozart’s Twelfth Mass he simply revelled in, the Gloria in
that being, to his mind, the acme of first class music as
such, literally knocking everything else into a cocked hat.
He infinitely preferred the sacred music of the catholic
church to anything the opposite shop could offer in that
line such as those Moody and Sankey hymns or Bid me to
live and i will live thy protestant to be. He also yielded to
none in his admiration of Rossini’s Stabat Mater, a work
simply abounding in immortal numbers, in which his wife,
Madam Marion Tweedy, made a hit, a veritable sensation,
he might safely say, greatly adding to her other laureis and
putting the others totally in the shade, in the jesuit fathers’
church in upper Gardiner street, the sacred edifice being

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