Page 492 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

—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
original. 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:
Sonnambula. He heard Joe Maas sing that one night. Ah,
what M’Guckin! Yes. In his way. Choirboy style. Maas
was the boy. Massboy. A lyrical tenor if you like. Never
forget it. Never.

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