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.