The Women's Dublin

DIMENSION 2 · TYPE I, INVENTORY · THE UNIT: THE WOMAN — INCOME, MOBILITY, INTERIORITY

Sixteen census entries — seventeen women named, Miss Douce and Miss Kennedy sharing one — 181 appearances. Those are the census's numbers and only the census's: after the last census entry stands a separately denominated, uncounted register, the women the text draws and never names. The reference documents' maps followed two men through the day; the women appeared in them as an arm, a glimpse, a letter (catch C-02). This dimension collects the women as they actually enter the 1922 text — how each earns or is kept, where each can and cannot go, and whether the text grants her an inside or only a surface. How she enters is itself the finding: on stage, as a body part, as a letter, as men's talk. The omission is data, not error (learning L-02). Quotes are verbatim from the public-domain text; states follow anchor A3; hours are approximate, from the itinerary. The Hour column records where in the day’s text an appearance falls, not when its matter occurs — a recalled or hallucinated appearance has no clock of its own: Ann Hathaway enters at Scylla and Charybdis’s hour, three centuries dead.

Molly Bloom

the women

The dimension's fixed pole: the one full female interiority in the book (forty unpunctuated pages), a concert-singer's income routed through her lover-manager, and a mobility of exactly nil — she never leaves the bed while the whole city talks about her.

Income: A concert soprano between engagements: the coming income is the Belfast tour Boylan is organising — "a swagger affair in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on the twentyfifth" (ep 5), run by "a committee formed. Part shares and part profits" (ep 5), with Boylan "an excellent man to organise" (ep 12) — her earnings routed through her lover-manager. Past paid work is thin and underpaid: the Coffee Palace paid "a very modest remuneration indeed for her pianoplaying" (ep 16); her last concert was "over a year ago... St Teresas hall" (ep 18); she sells cast-offs — "Mrs Marion Bloom has left off clothes of all descriptions" (ep 11). Otherwise she is kept by the household Bloom funds: "no visitors or post ever except his cheques" (ep 18).
Mobility: Exactly nil on the day. She is on the page in bed at 8 a.m. (ep 4), an arm at the window at ~3 p.m. (ep 10), and in bed from 2 a.m. (eps 17-18); the text records no step outside 7 Eccles Street. Her monologue confirms the confinement from inside: "nobody to say youre out you have to peep out through the blind" (ep 18). Movement exists only in prospect (Belfast, "this day week were to go to Belfast") and in memory (Gibraltar, Howth, the Mallow concert train) — while Boylan, Bloom, the basket of fruit and the whole city's talk travel to her.
Interiority: None granted for eighteen episodes — she exists as a sleepy "Mn", an arm, men's talk, a photograph, a hallucination — and then the entire final episode: the longest unbroken interiority in the book, eight unpunctuated sentences of first-person consciousness covering Gibraltar, Howth, twenty years and the whole cast, closing the novel on her "yes I said yes I will Yes." The book's structure is the finding: the most absent woman is granted the fullest mind, last.

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~8:00-8:45 a.m. (approx., doc 03)	4 · Calypso	on stage	present	In bed at 7 Eccles Street: orders breakfast with "Mn", takes Boylan's letter, asks Bloom to explain a word from her library book while hiding the envelope under the pillow.	“—O, rocks! she said. Tell us in plain words.”
~8:00-8:45 a.m. (approx.)	4 · Calypso	a letter	present	Boylan's envelope on the hallfloor addresses her outside her marriage — not Mrs Leopold Bloom but her own name in a bold hand; Bloom reads the address and his heart slows.	“Mrs Marion Bloom. His quickened heart slowed at once. Bold hand. Mrs Marion.”
~9:45-10:45 a.m. (approx.)	5 · Lotus Eaters	men's talk	recalled	Bloom announces the concert engagement to M'Coy in the street; M'Coy's "Who's getting it up?" hangs unanswered because the answer is Boylan.	“—My wife too, he said. She's going to sing at a swagger affair in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on the twentyfifth.”
~9:45-10:45 a.m. (approx.)	5 · Lotus Eaters	memory	recalled	Bloom's mind-picture of her at that hour: still in bed, cards laid along her thigh, the torn strip of Boylan's envelope beside her.	“Mrs Marion Bloom. Not up yet. Queen was in her bedroom eating bread and.”
~11:00 a.m.-12:00 (approx.)	6 · Hades	men's talk	recalled	In the funeral carriage the concert tour is discussed over Bloom's head; Power's smiling "Madame" is politeness with an edge, and Bloom privately imagines her doing her hair, humming her aria.	“—And Madame, Mr Power said smiling. Last but not least.”
~11:30 a.m. (approx.)	6 · Hades	men's talk	recalled	At the graveside Ned Lambert identifies Bloom to Menton through his wife; Menton remembers dancing with her at Mat Dillon's — she is the interesting one, Bloom the appendage.	“—Bloom, he said, Madame Marion Tweedy that was, is, I mean, the soprano. She's his wife.”
~12:00-1:00 p.m. (approx.)	7 · Aeolus	a letter	recalled	Her only trace at noon: Martha Clifford's letter-question echoing in Bloom's head in the newspaper office — Molly present as "your wife" in another woman's handwriting.	“What perfume does your wife use? I could go home still: tram: something I forgot.”
~1:00-2:00 p.m. (approx.)	8 · Lestrygonians	men's talk	recalled	Josie Breen's street inquiry — the polite formula by which the city keeps track of a woman it never sees.	“—No use complaining. How is Molly those times? Haven't seen her for ages.”
~1:30 p.m. (approx.)	8 · Lestrygonians	memory	recalled	In Davy Byrne's, over burgundy, the Howth Head proposal memory — the book's central act of shared food and consent, given first from Bloom's side.	“Softly she gave me in my mouth the seedcake warm and chewed. Mawkish pulp her mouth had mumbled sweetsour of her spittle. Joy: I ate it: joy.”
~3:00 p.m. (approx.)	10 · Wandering Rocks	a glimpse	present	Her single bodily appearance between 8:45 a.m. and 2 a.m.: an arm from the window of 7 Eccles Street throwing a coin to the one-legged sailor while the Unfurnished Apartments card falls from the sash.	“A plump bare generous arm shone, was seen, held forth from a white petticoatbodice and taut shiftstraps. A woman's hand flung forth a coin over the area railings.”
~3:15 p.m. (approx.)	10 · Wandering Rocks	men's talk	recalled	Lenehan's Glencree-dinner story to M'Coy — Molly handled as an anecdote of curves and port wine, groped in retelling, while Bloom points out stars.	“She's a gamey mare and no mistake.”
~4:00-5:00 p.m. (approx.)	11 · Sirens	men's talk	recalled	In the Ormond bar Dedalus and Dollard remember borrowing a dress suit from the Blooms' second-hand clothes business; her name is fished for — "A buxom lassy. Marion... Tweedy." — at the very hour Boylan's jingle crosses town to her.	“—Ay, ay, Mr Dedalus nodded. Mrs Marion Bloom has left off clothes of all descriptions.”
~4:00-5:00 p.m. (approx.)	11 · Sirens	memory	recalled	Bloom, eating in the dining room while the adultery happens offstage ("Jingle into Dorset street"), remembers her laughing on the bed at Dollard's tight trousers — her vitality held in memory against the present hour.	“Molly did laugh when he went out. Threw herself back across the bed, screaming, kicking.”
~5:00-6:00 p.m. (approx.)	12 · Cyclops	men's talk	recalled	In Barney Kiernan's, Joe's needling question about the tour — the pub already knows what Boylan's organising means; the nameless narrator supplies the cruelty.	“The fat heap he married is a nice old phenomenon with a back on her like a ballalley.”
~5:00-6:00 p.m. (approx.)	12 · Cyclops	men's talk	recalled	The parodic interpolation elevates the same gossip to mock-epic — Gibraltar birth, garden of Alameda, chastity asserted by a style that knows better.	“The chaste spouse of Leopold is she: Marion of the bountiful bosoms.”
~8:00-9:00 p.m. (approx.)	13 · Nausicaa	memory	recalled	On the strand after Gerty leaves, Bloom's stopped watch makes the adultery a fact he can finally think: the hands stand at approximately Boylan's hour.	“Funny my watch stopped at half past four... Was that just when he, she? O, he did. Into her. She did. Done.”
~10:00-11:00 p.m. (approx.)	14 · Oxen of the Sun	men's talk	recalled	In the hospital common room even Bloom's dream of her circulates as tavern matter, told in seventeenth-century pastiche.	“he having dreamed tonight a strange fancy of his dame Mrs Moll with red slippers on in a pair of Turkey trunks”
~12:00-1:00 a.m. (approx.)	15 · Circe	hallucination	hallucinated	She rises in Bloom's Nighttown mind as Marion in Turkish costume — yashmak, camel, jewelled fetterchain — renaming herself out of the marriage and mocking him in his own guilt's imagery.	“Welly? Mrs Marion from this out, my dear man, when you speak to me.”
~12:30-1:00 a.m. (approx.)	15 · Circe	hallucination	hallucinated	In Bella Cohen's the afternoon is staged as Bloom's masochistic pageant: Boylan hangs his hat on Bloom's antlered head and Marion calls from the bath in the language of Sweets of Sin.	“Raoul darling, come and dry me. I'm in my pelt. Only my new hat and a carriage sponge.”
~1:00-2:00 a.m. (approx.)	16 · Eumaeus	a photograph	recalled	In the cabman's shelter Bloom shows Stephen the Lafayette photograph of 1896 — evening dress, bosom, In Old Madrid on the piano — and lingers over the slightly soiled likeness of the wife another man left that afternoon.	“—Mrs Bloom, my wife the prima donna Madam Marion Tweedy, Bloom indicated. Taken a few years since.”
~2:00-2:45 a.m. (approx.)	17 · Ithaca	on stage	present	In the flesh again at last, asleep in the imprinted bed: Bloom enters head to her feet and kisses her; the catechism registers her without giving her a spoken word.	“He kissed the plump mellow yellow smellow melons of her rump, on each plump melonous hemisphere, in their mellow yellow furrow”
~2:30 a.m. (approx.)	17 · Ithaca	on stage	present	She half-wakes and interrogates him about his day; the exchange is reported only as grammar — her questions, his edited answers omitting Martha, Kiernan's and Gerty — her actual voice withheld until episode 18.	“Somnolent invocation, less somnolent recognition, incipient excitation, catechetical interrogation.”
no hour — Joyce's schema gives Penelope none (doc 03)	18 · Penelope	on stage	present	Awake beside sleeping Bloom, she opens the monologue on his unprecedented demand for breakfast in bed and does not stop for forty pages.	“Yes because he never did a thing like that before as ask to get his breakfast in bed with a couple of eggs”
no hour	18 · Penelope	on stage	present	Inside the monologue the day is re-seen from the window: the housebound hours, Boylan's knock at the door, the coin to the sailor — confirming the arm of episode 10 was hers.	“when I threw the penny to that lame sailor for England home and beauty when I was whistling there is a charming girl I love”
no hour	18 · Penelope	on stage	present	The close: Howth and Gibraltar merge, the young officer and the husband become one man asking one question, and the book ends in her voice.	“and yes I said yes I will Yes.”

Milly Bloom

the women

The only young woman with a stated wage (twelve and six a week in the Mullingar photo business) and real away-from-home mobility, yet she enters the text exclusively as letter, photograph, and parental appraisal — earned independence rendered entirely as paper.

Income: The only young woman in the census with a stated wage: apprenticed in a Mullingar photographer's — "I am getting on swimming in the photo business now" (her letter, ep 4) — earning, in Bloom's silent accounting, "Twelve and six a week. Not much. Still, she might do worse" (ep 4). Confirmed publicly: "Milly has a position down in Mullingar... In a photographer's there" (ep 8). Behind the wage sits family capital she did not choose: a £500 Scottish Widows endowment policy in her name, maturing at 25 (ep 17). Molly adds that the posting itself was engineered: "such an idea for him to send the girl down there to learn to take photographs" (ep 18).
Mobility: The widest real mobility of the three — and none of it on stage. She lives away from home in Mullingar, Co. Westmeath: fair days, a planned Lough Owel picnic, concerts at the Greville Arms (her letter, ep 4); before that, in Dublin, "riding Harry Devans bicycle at night" and "wanting to go on the skatingrink" until, Molly says, "she was just getting out of bounds" (ep 18). But the mobility was assigned, not chosen — Bloom sent her ("on account of me and Boylan thats why he did it Im certain", ep 18) — and its earlier limits were watched: episode 17 records her turning back abruptly on Stamer street when followed, and declining a stranger's request to photograph her. She never physically enters the day.
Interiority: None granted directly. Her one page of first-person prose is the breathless birthday letter ("Excuse bad writing am in hurry. Byby."), immediately re-read twice and interpreted by her father; everything else is paper and appraisal — a card, a hallucinated cry of "Papli", drawer relics (copybook, childhood epistle, moustache cup), Bannon's tavern boasting ("a skittish heifer, big of her age"), Bloom's catechized memories, and Molly's long maternal audit. Earned independence rendered entirely as other people's documents: the text never once enters her mind.

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~8:00-8:45 a.m. (approx., doc 03)	1 · Telemachus	men's talk	recalled	Unnamed at the Forty Foot: Bannon's card about a "photo girl" in Westmeath, met with Mulligan's obscene pun. [inferred] that the girl is Milly — confirmed by her own letter (ep 4) naming Bannon, and by ep 14.	“I got a card from Bannon. Says he found a sweet young thing down there. Photo girl he calls her.”
~8:00-8:45 a.m. (approx.)	4 · Calypso	a letter	recalled	Her birthday letter from Mullingar, read by Bloom over his kidney: the tam, the photo business, the picnic, and — carefully noted by her father — "a young student comes here some evenings named Bannon."	“I am getting on swimming in the photo business now. Mr Coghlan took one of me and Mrs. Will send when developed.”
~8:30 a.m. (approx.)	4 · Calypso	men's talk	recalled	Bloom's parental audit of the letter — the wage priced, the risk weighed, the sexual future foreseen and pronounced unpreventable: "Will happen, yes. Prevent. Useless: can't move."	“Fifteen yesterday... Her first birthday away from home. Separation... Twelve and six a week. Not much. Still, she might do worse.”
~11:00 a.m.-12:00 (approx.)	6 · Hades	memory	recalled	In the funeral carriage Bloom folds her into her mother; crossing the canal he plans a visit he will not make: "I could make a walking tour to see Milly by the canal. Or cycle down."	“Molly. Milly. Same thing watered down. Her tomboy oaths.”
~1:00-2:00 p.m. (approx.)	8 · Lestrygonians	men's talk	recalled	Bloom presents her position to Mrs Breen as family good news — the wage-earning daughter as social currency in a street conversation.	“Milly has a position down in Mullingar, you know... In a photographer's there. Getting on like a house on fire.”
~4:00-5:00 p.m. (approx.)	11 · Sirens	memory	recalled	In the Ormond dining room, against Dollard's ballad of a last man of his name, Bloom counts his own line — Milly present as the daughter who cannot carry it.	“I too. Last of my race. Milly young student. Well, my fault perhaps. No son. Rudy. Too late now.”
~8:00-9:00 p.m. (approx.)	13 · Nausicaa	memory	recalled	On the strand Bloom remembers her fearless on the Erin's King pleasure cruise — the blue scarf that will recur in her Circe apparition.	“Milly, no sign of funk. Her blue scarf loose, laughing. Don't know what death is at that age.”
~10:00-11:00 p.m. (approx.)	14 · Oxen of the Sun	men's talk	recalled	Bannon arrives at Holles Street promising the company an account of her — the letter's polite "young student" turned livestock-appraisal in male company, with her father in the room.	“would tell him of a skittish heifer, big of her age and beef to the heel”
~11:00 p.m. (approx.)	14 · Oxen of the Sun	men's talk	recalled	In the closing pub babble Bannon toasts her and then bolts on realising who Bloom is — the moment the two circuits of talk about her touch.	“Bold bad girl from the town of Mullingar. Tell her I was axing at her... Photo's papli, by all that's gorgeous.”
~12:00-1:00 a.m. (approx.)	15 · Circe	hallucination	hallucinated	In the Bello sequence she appears fairhaired and slimsandalled, blue scarf swirling, breaking from a lover's arms — Bloom's fear of her sexual adulthood staged as apparition.	“My! It's Papli! But, O Papli, how old you've grown!”
~2:00-2:45 a.m. (approx.)	17 · Ithaca	memory	recalled	The catechism inventories her whole life — infancy, the watched adolescence, the letter with its "brief allusion to a local student (faculty and year not stated)" — and weighs the departure.	“Did that first division, portending a second division, afflict him? Less than he had imagined, more than he had hoped.”
~2:30 a.m. (approx.)	17 · Ithaca	memory	recalled	She survives in the house as paper: the drawer holds her handwriting copybook with its Papli drawings and her infant letter; the second drawer holds the insurance policy in her name.	“A Vere Foster's handwriting copybook, property of Milly (Millicent) Bloom, certain pages of which bore diagram drawings, marked Papli”
no hour (Penelope has none in the schema)	18 · Penelope	memory	recalled	Molly's audit of the posting — she reads Bloom's motive as clearing the house for Boylan, and half-approves the exile on her own grounds.	“such an idea for him to send the girl down there to learn to take photographs... its as well he sent her where she is she was just getting out of bounds”
no hour	18 · Penelope	memory	recalled	Mother and daughter as rivals and doubles in Molly's mind — the girl imitating her, watched by men as she once was, her age fixed by the arithmetic of the marriage.	“they all look at her like me when I was her age of course any old rag looks well on you then [...] 88 I was married 88 Milly is 15 yesterday 89”

Gerty MacDowell

the women

Unwaged daughter keeping house on halved shillings, literally lame (mobility curtailed in the body), and the book's great test-case of borrowed interiority — a full inner life in novelette prose that episode 17 then strips back to 'surname unknown'.

Income: No wage — the text gives her none. She is the unwaged daughter keeping house: "A sterling good daughter was Gerty just like a second mother in the house, a ministering angel too" (ep 13). The household's means are her father's Catesby's cork lino agency, and he is laid up — she runs his business errands ("carrying the Catesby's cork lino letters for her father who was laid up", ep 10; "she had to go into town to bring him the letters and samples from his office", ep 13) — while drink has already halved the family's prospects: "Had her father only avoided the clutches of the demon drink... she might now be rolling in her carriage, second to none" (ep 13). Her economy is itemized in shop prices — knickers "the green, four and eleven" — and her exit route is marriage, priced and dreamed in the same prose.
Mobility: Curtailed in the body itself: "Gerty MacDowell was... lame" — the reveal withheld until she walks ("She walked with a certain quiet dignity... very slowly because—because Gerty MacDowell was... Tight boots? No. She's lame! O!", ep 13). Her recorded range is the strand near home with her girl chums (ep 13), town on her father's errands (ep 10), and evenings by the fire — "gazing out of the window dreamily by the hour at the rain" (ep 13). When the others sprint for the fireworks she stays seated; when she finally moves it is the limp Bloom watches. In Circe the limp follows her into hallucination: "Leering, Gerty Macdowell limps forward" (ep 15).
Interiority: The fullest interiority granted any woman before Molly — nearly half of episode 13 runs through her consciousness: desire, family grief, religious feeling, calculation about Reggy Wylie and the stranger on the rocks. But it is borrowed interiority, conducted entirely in the prose of novelettes and the Princess Novelette — whether the inwardness is hers or the style's is the episode's open question, and the exhibition is knowing ("she let him and she saw that he saw"). Episode 17 then performs the book's coldest subtraction: the full inner life is filed as "Gertrude (Gerty), surname unknown" — a maid without even a family name. Both facts are data: the text grants her a mind and then shows how the day's records erase it.

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~3:00-4:00 p.m., cavalcade section closer to 4 (approx., doc 03)	10 · Wandering Rocks	a glimpse	present	In the viceregal cavalcade section: on her father's errand, she knows the vicereine by style but a stopped tram and a furniture van block her view — the governed city interposing itself between her and the spectacle.	“Gerty MacDowell, carrying the Catesby's cork lino letters for her father who was laid up, knew by the style it was the lord and lady lieutenant”
~5:00-6:00 p.m. (approx.)	12 · Cyclops	men's talk	recalled	In the Cyclops love-parody she is one clause in the city's ledger of couples — her romantic life already public property in a register that levels her with constables and elephants.	“Gerty MacDowell loves the boy that has the bicycle.”
~8:00 p.m. (approx.)	13 · Nausicaa	on stage	present	On the rocks with Cissy, Edy and the children: the narration hands her the whole first half of the episode in novelette prose, introducing her as heroine.	“Gerty MacDowell... was, in very truth, as fair a specimen of winsome Irish girlhood as one could wish to see.”
~8:15 p.m. (approx.)	13 · Nausicaa	on stage	present	Her inwardness reaches the household truth beneath the style: the drunken father, witnessed domestic violence, the carriage she will never ride — poverty and temperance-tract idiom fused in one thought.	“Had her father only avoided the clutches of the demon drink... she might now be rolling in her carriage, second to none.”
~8:45 p.m. (approx.)	13 · Nausicaa	on stage	present	The exhibition at the fireworks — the leaning back is her own knowing act, mutual and unashamed in her own account of it, timed to the Roman candle and the Benediction choir.	“and she let him and she saw that he saw and then it went so high it went out of sight a moment and she was trembling in every limb”
~9:00 p.m. (approx.)	13 · Nausicaa	on stage	present	The reveal as she walks away, and the narration's handover: her half of the episode ends where Bloom's begins, her body redefined in his appraising idiom — "Jilted beauty. A defect is ten times worse in a woman."	“Tight boots? No. She's lame! O! Mr Bloom watched her as she limped away. Poor girl!”
~12:00-1:00 a.m. (approx.)	15 · Circe	hallucination	hallucinated	In Nighttown Bloom's guilt raises her limping, showing her bloodied clout, speaking accusation and desire at once; within the hallucination the bawd reclassifies her as a soliciting streetwalker.	“With all my worldly goods I thee and thou... You did that. I hate you... Dirty married man! I love you for doing that to me.”
~2:00-2:45 a.m. (approx.)	17 · Ithaca	memory	recalled	In the catechism's list of the day's favourable receptions she is filed among wife, nurse and maid — her family name, given twelve times in episode 13, now not on record.	“a wife (Mrs Josephine Breen, born Josie Powell), a nurse, Miss Callan (Christian name unknown), a maid, Gertrude (Gerty, family name unknown).”
~2:30 a.m. (approx.)	17 · Ithaca	memory	recalled	In the inventory of what Bloom's edited narration to Molly omitted, the strand encounter is reduced to clinical shorthand and the erasure of her name is repeated — the day's official record of her.	“the erotic provocation and response thereto caused by the exhibitionism of Gertrude (Gerty), surname unknown.”

May Dedalus (Stephen's mother)

the women

The recalled-only pole under discipline A3: never on stage, present across ten episodes as dream-apparition, grave, jeer and Circe-ghost — a dead woman whose entire recorded interiority is the guilt she leaves in a son.

Income: The text does not say how she earned or was kept in life; she is identified only as "wife of Simon Dedalus" (ep 17) — kept as a wife [inferred]. The one money transaction attached to her is outbound: she sent Stephen "mother's money order, eight shillings" in Paris (ep 3) — out of what funds the text does not say. That she held the household's economy together is stated only negatively, through men's talk after her death: "Home always breaks up when the mother goes" (Bloom, ep 8).
Mobility: None — she is dead before 16 June 1904 begins. Her only locations in the book's present are a grave at Glasnevin (ep 6), a dream and a jeer in other people's mouths, and the floor of Bella Cohen's music room, through which she rises as a hallucination (ep 15). In recalled life her recorded places are domestic and devotional: the kitchen tap, the hob, the kitchen of 12 North Richmond street, Matthew Dillon's lilacgarden, her deathbed.
Interiority: The text grants her none of her own. She never thinks on the page; alive she is remembered in objects and gestures (a glass of water, a cored apple, squashed lice), and the only voice she is ever given is in Circe — where the words ("Repent, Stephen," "Beware God's hand!") are hallucinated, i.e. Stephen's guilt ventriloquising her, not her mind. Her entire recorded inwardness is the effect of her death on a son, a husband, and (glancingly) Molly. The silence is the finding (L-02): ten episodes, no interior.

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~8:10 a.m. (episode runs 8:00–8:45, hours approximate per doc 03)	1 · Telemachus	men's talk — Mulligan's accusation on the gun-platform, and his remembered jeer	recalled	Mulligan tells Stephen his aunt blames him for not kneeling at the deathbed; Stephen recalls overhearing Mulligan describe the death to his own mother.	“You said, Stephen answered, O, it’s only Dedalus whose mother is beastly dead.”
~8:15 a.m.	1 · Telemachus	memory and dream-apparition — Stephen brooding on the parapet	recalled	Domestic memories (the glass of water, the cored apple, her fingernails) turn into the recurring dream of her corpse; Stephen cries out inwardly against her.	“In a dream, silently, she had come to him, her wasted body within its loose graveclothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood”
~10:15 a.m. (episode ~9:45–10:45)	2 · Nestor	memory — refracted through the ugly pupil Sargent, whom someone must have loved	recalled	Watching Sargent do sums, Stephen reasons from mother-love in the abstract straight back to his own dead mother.	“She was no more: the trembling skeleton of a twig burnt in the fire, an odour of rosewood and wetted ashes.”
~11:15 a.m. (episode ~11:00–11:45)	3 · Proteus	memory — the Paris year; also the aunt's accusation replayed	recalled	Stephen remembers living in Paris on her eight-shilling money order, and re-hears the family verdict: "The aunt thinks you killed your mother."	“With mother’s money order, eight shillings, the banging door of the post office slammed in your face by the usher.”
~11:45 a.m. (funeral at Glasnevin, episode ~11:00–12:00)	6 · Hades	men's talk at her grave — she is present only as a plot of ground	recalled	Passing her grave at Dignam's funeral, Simon Dedalus breaks down and weeps; Mr Power consoles him.	“—Her grave is over there, Jack, Mr Dedalus said. I’ll soon be stretched beside her. Let Him take me whenever He likes.”
~12:30 p.m. (episode 12:00–1:00)	7 · Aeolus	memory — Mulligan's jeer surfacing in Stephen's inner monologue in the newspaper office	recalled	Amid the rhetoric of Aeolus, the jeer returns unbidden as a one-line intrusion in Stephen's thought.	“In mourning for Sallust, Mulligan says. Whose mother is beastly dead.”
~2:20 p.m. (episode 2:00–3:00)	9 · Scylla and Charybdis	memory — breaking through Stephen's Shakespeare argument in the library	recalled	Talk of Mary Shakespeare's deathbed pennies triggers the deathbed image and the Liliata rutilantium chant; then, alone in the thought: "I wept alone."	“Mother’s deathbed. Candle. The sheeted mirror. Who brought me into this world lies there, bronzelidded, under few cheap flowers.”
~10:45 p.m. (episode ~10:00–11:00)	14 · Oxen of the Sun	men's talk — Lenehan's tipsy witticism in the hospital common room	recalled	Lenehan repeats the town's joke about Stephen's bereavement; the company sees Stephen darken at "his recent loss."	“He could not leave his mother an orphan. The young man’s face grew dark.”
~12:30–1:00 a.m. (episode midnight–1:00 a.m.)	15 · Circe	hallucination — rises stark through the floor of Bella Cohen's music room, in graveclothes, green with gravemould	hallucinated	The only time in the book she speaks: she names herself, begs Stephen to repent, prays over him; he answers Non serviam! and smashes the chandelier with his ashplant.	“THE MOTHER: (With the subtle smile of death’s madness.) I was once the beautiful May Goulding. I am dead.”
~2:20 a.m. (episode ~2:00–2:45)	17 · Ithaca	memory — the catechism's inventory of companies of kindled fires	recalled	The catechism fixes her, uniquely, with full name, place and date — a kitchen fire lit for a son in 1898.	“of his mother Mary, wife of Simon Dedalus, in the kitchen of number twelve North Richmond street on the morning of the feast of Saint Francis Xavier 1898”
~2:25 a.m.	17 · Ithaca	memory — the catechism's record of Bloom's and Stephen's two previous meetings	recalled	She appears as chaperone of the first Bloom–Stephen encounter, in Matthew Dillon's lilacgarden, 1887.	“in the company of Stephen’s mother, Stephen being then of the age of 5 and reluctant to give his hand in salutation”
no hour — Joyce's schema gives Penelope none (after ~2:45 a.m.)	18 · Penelope	memory — Molly's, seeing the Dedalus family in mourning-year 1893/4, and her judgment on the dead woman's behalf	recalled	Molly remembers seeing young Stephen driving to Kingsbridge station with his father and mother, and later thinks the dead mother would grieve at his night-wandering.	“his poor mother wouldnt like that if she was alive ruining himself for life perhaps”

the milk woman

the women

The book's first present woman: petty-trade income reckoned aloud to the penny ('seven twos is a shilling and twopence over'), free coming and going, and zero granted inwardness — Stephen instantly converts her surface into national allegory.

Income: Petty trade, reckoned aloud to the penny: she sells milk door to door — "seven mornings a pint at twopence is seven twos is a shilling and twopence over and these three mornings a quart at fourpence is three quarts is a shilling" — takes Mulligan's florin and extends credit without complaint ("We'll owe twopence. —Time enough, sir"). The milk is "not hers" (Stephen's observation): she carries it, [inferred] as roundswoman for a dairy or farm; the text does not say what she keeps of the two-and-two.
Mobility: Free coming and going of the working morning: she enters the tower unannounced from "a morning world," does her business, and leaves for the rest of her round — the only woman in the opening episodes who moves through a male space at will. Stephen imagines her range ("crouching by a patient cow at daybreak in the lush field"), but that is his fancy, not her stated itinerary. The text gives her one call, one exit, and no home.
Interiority: None granted — the book's first present woman is all surface. She speaks (politeness, deference to Mulligan's "loud voice," shame at not knowing Irish: "I'm ashamed I don't speak the language myself"), but never once thinks on the page. What looks like her inwardness is Stephen's instant conversion of her into national allegory — "Silk of the kine and poor old woman... a wandering crone, lowly form of an immortal serving her conqueror and her gay betrayer" — and even her slighting of Stephen ("me she slights") is his reading, not her thought. The silence is the finding (L-02).

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~8:15 a.m. (breakfast in the tower; episode 8:00–8:45)	1 · Telemachus	on stage — she enters the tower's living room mid-breakfast	present	The doorway darkens and she announces herself; Mulligan mocks her piety behind her deference ("Glory be to God. —To whom?").	“The doorway was darkened by an entering form. —The milk, sir!”
~8:15–8:20 a.m.	1 · Telemachus	on stage — pouring the milk, while Stephen silently allegorises her	present	She measures out a quart and a tilly and praises the milk; Stephen, watching "old shrunken paps," converts her into Ireland serving conqueror (England) and betrayer (the Church).	“Silk of the kine and poor old woman, names given her in old times. A wandering crone, lowly form of an immortal serving her conqueror and her gay betrayer”
~8:20 a.m.	1 · Telemachus	on stage — the language of rule enacted at the breakfast table	present	Haines the Englishman addresses her in Irish; she takes it for French, then confesses her shame — an Irishwoman who cannot recognise Irish, complimented on it by the coloniser.	“—Sure we ought to, the old woman said, and I’m ashamed I don’t speak the language myself. I’m told it’s a grand language by them that knows.”
~8:25 a.m.	1 · Telemachus	on stage — the bill, the florin, the exit with a curtsey	present	She reckons the account aloud to the penny, accepts a florin "in her uneager hand," allows twopence credit, curtseys and goes, pursued by Mulligan's mock-chant.	“seven mornings a pint at twopence is seven twos is a shilling and twopence over and these three mornings a quart at fourpence is three quarts is a shilling”
~8:35 a.m.	1 · Telemachus	men's talk — after her exit, as a unit of account in Stephen's sardonic reply	recalled	Asked if his Hamlet theory would pay, Stephen ranks her with Haines as one of his two possible paymasters — creditor and coloniser weighed in one toss.	“The problem is to get money. From whom? From the milkwoman or from him. It’s a toss up, I think.”
~12:50 a.m. (Beaver Street, before the fight; episode midnight–1:00 a.m.)	15 · Circe	hallucination — Old Gummy Granny, [inferred] the milkwoman's figure returned: seated on a toadstool, keening the same epithets ("Silk of the kine") Stephen hung on her at 8 a.m.; the text does not name her as the milkwoman	hallucinated	As Private Carr squares up to Stephen, the crone-Ireland figure his morning allegory built reappears demanding blood sacrifice; Stephen answers with "the old sow that eats her farrow."	“Ochone! Ochone! Silk of the kine! (She wails.) You met with poor old Ireland and how does she stand?”

Dilly Dedalus

the women

The unpaid daughter at the destitution floor — flitters, pawned books, coins extracted from a drunk father — whose penny French primer is the dimension's sharpest image of aspiration on no income, and whose inwardness reaches us only refracted through Stephen's 'Agenbite'.

Income: None of her own — the unpaid daughter at the destitution floor. Money reaches her only by extraction from her drunk father, shilling by pennies ("He handed her a shilling... Here, Mr Dedalus said, handing her two pennies"), against his curse ("an insolent pack of little bitches since your poor mother died"). The household eats charity peasoup from Sister Mary Patrick and has pawned Stephen's books ("Some, Dilly said. We had to"). Out of this she spends one penny — on Chardenal's French primer.
Mobility: The errand-range of family scavenging, all on foot through the centre: loitering by the curbstone outside Dillon's auctionrooms on Bachelor's Walk (Bloom sees her there at ~1 p.m.; she is still posted there at ~3, "gone to meet father"), pursuing Simon up the street for coins, then the bookcart, then Fownes's street as the viceregal cavalcade passes. Home is the stripped kitchen in Cabra. Where she cannot go the text marks by silence: no school, no employment, no evening — after 4 p.m. she exists only in her brother's memory. [inferred from absence]
Interiority: Never granted directly. The closest the text comes is one ambiguous flicker at the auctionrooms — "Four and nine. Those lovely curtains. Five shillings. Cosy curtains." — which reads as either the auctioneer's cries overheard or her free indirect longing; if hers, it is her only interior moment in the book. Otherwise her inwardness reaches us refracted: through Bloom's pity ("that poor child's dress is in flitters"), through her blush over the primer ("She nodded, reddening and closing tight her lips"), and above all through Stephen's guilt — "She is drowning. Agenbite. Save her. Agenbite... Misery! Misery!" — which is his interior, not hers. The omission is data (L-02).

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~1:05 p.m. (Bloom at O'Connell bridge; episode ~1:00–2:00)	8 · Lestrygonians	a glimpse — Bloom's sighting across Bachelor's Walk, and his unspoken pity	present	Bloom sees her posted outside Dillon's auctionrooms, guesses the family furniture is being sold, blames the priests' theology of increase, and registers her hunger.	“Good Lord, that poor child’s dress is in flitters. Underfed she looks too. Potatoes and marge, marge and potatoes.”
~3:15 p.m. (episode ~2:55–4:00)	10 · Wandering Rocks	family talk — named by her sisters over the charity peasoup; she is elsewhere in the city, not on this stage	present	In the bare Cabra kitchen Katey asks where Dilly is; Maggy answers she has gone to intercept their father for money.	“—A good job we have that much. Where’s Dilly? —Gone to meet father, Maggy said.”
~3:20 p.m.	10 · Wandering Rocks	on stage — the duel with Simon outside Dillon's auctionrooms	present	She reads the drink in his eyes, calls his bluff coin by coin (a shilling, then two pennies for a glass of milk and a bun), and takes his curse standing.	“—I suppose you got five, Dilly said. Give me more than that.”
~3:35 p.m.	10 · Wandering Rocks	on stage — with Stephen at the bookcart; his interiority floods over her surface	present	She shows him the penny French primer, blushing; he sees his own eyes in hers, thinks her drowning, and does nothing — Agenbite of inwit.	“—I bought it from the other cart for a penny, Dilly said, laughing nervously. Is it any good?”
~3:55 p.m. (the cavalcade section closing the episode)	10 · Wandering Rocks	a glimpse — one clause in the viceregal cavalcade's survey of the saluting city	present	In Fownes's street she looks up from the primer bought an hour earlier to watch the Crown drive past — aspiration on no income, eye to eye with empire.	“In Fownes’s street Dilly Dedalus, straining her sight upward from Chardenal’s first French primer, saw sunshades spanned and wheelspokes spinning in the glare.”
~12:30 a.m. (the dance vertigo in Bella Cohen's; episode midnight–1:00 a.m.)	15 · Circe	hallucination — a fragment in the whirling dance of all the day's figures	hallucinated	As the room spins before the Mother rises, Dilly flickers past in Stephen's vertigo among the day's debris, marked by her poverty.	“Blazes blind coddoubled bicyclers Dilly with snowcake no fancy clothes.”
~12:40 a.m.	15 · Circe	hallucination — named by the Mother's ghost as the household's remaining caretaker	hallucinated	The apparition of May Dedalus assigns Dilly, in passing, the serving role the dead mother left: the unpaid daughter's duty spoken even from the grave.	“THE MOTHER: I pray for you in my other world. Get Dilly to make you that boiled rice every night after your brainwork.”
~1:30 a.m. (the cabman's shelter; episode ~1:00–2:00)	16 · Eumaeus	memory — Stephen's mind's eye repicturing the family hearth, unspoken over the coffee	recalled	Instead of answering Bloom, Stephen sees the last time he saw home: Dilly by the fire waiting for weak cocoa, oatmealwater for milk, Friday herrings at two a penny.	“his sister Dilly sitting by the ingle, her hair hanging down, waiting for some weak Trinidad shell cocoa that was in the sootcoated kettle”
~2:20 a.m. (episode ~2:00–2:45)	17 · Ithaca	memory — the catechism's inventory of companies of kindled fires	recalled	The catechism records her, with her formal name restored, as one of the fires kindled in Stephen's past — feeding the fire with broken boots, as ep 10 showed.	“of his sister Dilly (Delia) in his father’s house in Cabra.”

Martha Clifford

the women

The woman-as-letter made literal: a typist in the new female clerical economy who exists across eight episodes solely as correspondence, a pressed flower, a postal order of two shillings, and a cryptogram in a locked drawer — intimacy priced, person withheld.

Income: [inferred] A typist in the new female clerical economy: Bloom's advertisement sought a 'smart lady typist to aid gentleman in literary work' (ep 8) and all her letters are typewritten (ep 17). Supplemented by Bloom's postal orders — 'Send her a postal order two shillings, half a crown' (ep 8), sent from the Ormond (ep 11). Her wage, employer, and lodgings the text does not say.
Mobility: The text does not say — and that is the finding. She is reachable only at a poste restante ('c/o P. O. Dolphin's Barn'), asks 'Dear Henry, when will we meet?', and no meeting ever occurs. The text never once places her body anywhere in Dublin; her entire geography is two post offices and the dead letter office Bloom fears.
Interiority: One paragraph of her own prose — the ep 5 letter, with its slips ('that other world', 'if you do not wrote', 'my patience are exhausted') — is the only inwardness the book grants her. Everything after is Bloom's projection, an opera air (M'appari becomes her private cipher), a cryptogram in a locked drawer, and a hallucination that revokes even her name ('My real name is Peggy Griffin'). Intimacy priced at two shillings; the person withheld entirely.

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~10 a.m. (approx)	5 · Lotus Eaters	a letter — collected at Westland Row P.O. under the alias Henry Flower, with a pressed yellow flower pinned inside	recalled	Her third typewritten letter: flirtation, mock-punishment, a plea to meet, a headache, and the postscript asking what perfume Molly uses. The letter is on stage; the woman never is.	“I called you naughty boy because I do not like that other world. Please tell me what is the real meaning of that word?”
~10 a.m. (approx)	5 · Lotus Eaters	a pressed flower	recalled	Bloom detaches the enclosed flower and pockets it over his heart — the woman reduced to a scentless token.	“He tore the flower gravely from its pinhold smelt its almost no smell and placed it in his heart pocket. Language of flowers.”
~11 a.m. (approx)	6 · Hades	memory — Bloom's anxiety in the funeral carriage	recalled	Bloom frets over the envelope he used to cover his reply when Molly disturbed him — the correspondence as a thing to be hidden at home.	“Did I write Ballsbridge on the envelope I took to cover when she disturbed me writing to Martha? Hope it's not chucked in the dead letter office.”
~12 noon (approx)	7 · Aeolus	memory — an oblique echo (the biblical sisters and the opera)	recalled	In the newspaper office Bloom's mind drifts to the Mary-Martha picture and then to the opera Martha — the name already detaching from the woman into image and song.	“Our Saviour: beardframed oval face: talking in the dusk. Mary, Martha. Steered by an umbrella sword to the footlights: Mario the tenor.”
~1 p.m. (approx)	8 · Lestrygonians	memory — the advertisement and her phrases replaying	recalled	Passing the Irish Times office Bloom recalls the ad that produced her (from forty-four replies) and her letter's words run in his head — she exists as answered small-print.	“Wanted, smart lady typist to aid gentleman in literary work. I called you naughty darling because I do not like that other world.”
~2 p.m. (approx)	8 · Lestrygonians	memory — intimacy priced	recalled	Bloom plans her present: a two-shilling postal order — the relationship's exact market rate.	“Postoffice. Must answer. Fag today. Send her a postal order two shillings, half a crown. Accept my little present.”
~4 p.m. (approx)	11 · Sirens	a letter — Bloom writing the reply as Henry Flower while Simon Dedalus sings M'appari	recalled	At the Ormond, at the hour of Boylan's visit to Molly, Bloom answers her on Daly's notepaper; the aria's Martha and his Martha fuse. He encloses the postal order and posts it.	“Martha it is. Coincidence. Just going to write. Lionel's song. Lovely name you have. Can't write. Accept my little pres.”
~5 p.m. (approx)	11 · Sirens	a letter — the address, her only fixed coordinate	recalled	Henry writes the envelope: her whole existence in the text is this poste restante address. 'Done anyhow. Postal order, stamp. Postoffice lower down.'	“Miss Martha Clifford c/o P. O. Dolphin's Barn Lane Dublin.”
~8 p.m. (approx)	13 · Nausicaa	memory — Bloom on the strand after Gerty	recalled	Her letter-phrases resurface ('bad headache today') and Bloom wonders about her body's cycles — speculating on a woman he has never seen.	“How many women in Dublin have it today? Martha, she. Something in the air. That's the moon.”
~9 p.m. (approx)	13 · Nausicaa	memory — an item in the day's inventory	recalled	Reviewing his day, Bloom files her first in the list — a woman compressed to an event between waking and a bath.	“Long day I've had. Martha, the bath, funeral, house of Keyes, museum with those goddesses, Dedalus' song.”
~10 p.m. (approx)	14 · Oxen of the Sun	an echo — the song's name transferred to Milly	recalled	In the Oxen visions the aria's 'Martha, thou lost one' is applied to Milly — the name now pure floating signifier, detached from the correspondent altogether.	“It is she, Martha, thou lost one, Millicent, the young, the dear, the radiant.”
~12 midnight (approx)	15 · Circe	hallucination — a veiled accuser at Bloom's phantom trial	hallucinated	She materialises thickveiled with a crimson halter and a copy of the Irish Times, charges breach of promise, and dissolves even her own name — the one 'appearance' of her person is unreal.	“Breach of promise. My real name is Peggy Griffin. He wrote to me that he was miserable.”
~1 a.m. (approx)	16 · Eumaeus	men's talk — the cipher spoken aloud in company	recalled	To Stephen in the cabman's shelter Bloom praises the aria M'appari from Martha — naming his secret in public under cover of music criticism.	“he mentioned par excellence Lionel's air in Martha, M'appari, which, curiously enough, he had heard or overheard, to be more accurate, on yesterday”
~2 a.m. (approx)	17 · Ithaca	a catalogue — three letters and a cryptogram in the locked drawer	recalled	The drawer inventory: her letters filed beside dead parents' relics, her name and address encoded in a cryptogram, vowels suppressed — a woman archived.	“3 typewritten letters, addressee, Henry Flower, c/o. P. O. Westland Row, addresser, Martha Clifford, c/o. P. O. Dolphin's Barn”
~2:30 a.m. (approx)	17 · Ithaca	a catalogue — the fourth letter added; the omission to Molly	recalled	Bloom adds the day's letter ('from Martha Clifford (find M. C.)') and, narrating his day to Molly, deletes her: she ends the book as a suppressed item.	“he omitted to mention the clandestine correspondence between Martha Clifford and Henry Flower”

Mrs Breen (Josie Powell)

the women

One of the only women Bloom converses with all day: kept by a mad husband, her poverty read off a two-year-old blue serge dress, her mobility reduced to trailing Denis through the streets — the marriage-as-a-woman's-whole-fortune case, tracked from girlhood to Molly's verdict.

Income: None of her own in the text: kept by marriage to Denis Breen — 'that bloody povertystricken Breen' (ep 12). Her open handbag shows 'Soiled handkerchief: medicinebottle'; Bloom imagines the husband 'barging. Where's the ten shillings I gave you on Monday?' (ep 8). How the household is actually funded the text does not say; visible decline — the two-year-old blue serge, the 'chipped leather' handbag, 'that dowdy toque' — is the only economic data. Marriage was her whole fortune, and the fortune failed.
Mobility: Her day's map is her husband's mania: Westmoreland street at 1 p.m. (ep 8), over O'Connell bridge to Collis and Ward's about 3 p.m. (ep 10), past Barney Kiernan's toward Green street about 5 p.m. (ep 12) — solicitor to solicitor, 'trotting like a poodle', and pulling Denis back from under the cavalcade's hooves at four. The text shows her going nowhere of her own all day.
Interiority: Dialogue but no inward voice. She is one of the only women Bloom converses with all day, and speaks with wit and worry ('He has me heartscalded'), yet the text never once enters her head: she is read from outside by Bloom (dress, 'Lines round her mouth', 'Josie Powell that was') and judged in retrospect by Molly, from girlhood embraces to the castoffs verdict. The flirtatious Josie of Circe is Bloom's hallucination, not her inwardness.

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~1 p.m. (approx)	8 · Lestrygonians	on stage — met by Bloom outside Harrison's, Westmoreland street	present	The day's one real conversation with a woman for Bloom: she reports Denis mad with the U.p: up postcard, off to Menton's to sue for ten thousand pounds.	“He's a caution to rattlesnakes. He's in there now with his lawbooks finding out the law of libel. He has me heartscalded.”
~1 p.m. (approx)	8 · Lestrygonians	on stage — read silently by Bloom while she rummages	present	Bloom's inventory of her poverty: the dress, the toque, the chipped handbag — a woman's fortune read off her clothes. 'Josie Powell that was.'	“Same blue serge dress she had two years ago, the nap bleaching. Seen its best days. Wispish hair over her ears.”
~1 p.m. (approx)	8 · Lestrygonians	on stage — courier of the Purefoy news	present	It is Mrs Breen who tells Bloom Mina Purefoy is three days in labour at Holles street — the sentence that will take him to the hospital at 10 p.m.	“And a houseful of kids at home. It's a very stiff birth, the nurse told me.”
~3 p.m. (approx)	10 · Wandering Rocks	a glimpse — one sentence in the city's cross-cut	present	Led (not leading) across the river in Denis's legal round — her afternoon consumed by his madness, without a word of dialogue.	“Denis Breen with his tomes, weary of having waited an hour in John Henry Menton's office, led his wife over O'Connell bridge”
~4 p.m. (approx)	10 · Wandering Rocks	a glimpse — under the viceregal cavalcade	present	At King Billy's horse she saves Denis from the outriders' hoofs; he salutes the Crown's carriage. Her one decisive act of the day is rescue.	“Mrs Breen plucked her hastening husband back from under the hoofs of the outriders. She shouted in his ear the tidings.”
~5 p.m. (approx)	12 · Cyclops	a glimpse from the pub door, narrated with contempt	present	Seen passing Barney Kiernan's behind Denis and his tomes — the nameless narrator's epithet is the book's cruellest image of her mobility.	“the wife hotfoot after him, unfortunate wretched woman, trotting like a poodle”
~5 p.m. (approx)	12 · Cyclops	men's talk — her marriage weighed in the pub	recalled	Bloom's defence of her ('cruel for the wife having to go round after the old stuttering fool') is retold sneeringly, with the story of why she married Breen.	“And she with her nose cockahoop after she married him because a cousin of his old fellow's was pewopener to the pope.”
~8 p.m. (approx)	13 · Nausicaa	memory — Bloom on the strand	recalled	Filed with Mrs Dignam among women who were 'once like that too, marriageable' — girlhood promise against the day's wreckage.	“And Mrs Breen and Mrs Dignam once like that too, marriageable.”
~12 midnight (approx)	15 · Circe	hallucination — accosting Bloom at the edge of Nighttown	hallucinated	Bloom's guilt and old desire conjure her in a man's frieze overcoat; the scene replays the road-not-taken courtship of Josie Powell, 'prettiest deb in Dublin'.	“Mr Bloom! You down here in the haunts of sin! I caught you nicely! Scamp!”
~12 midnight (approx)	15 · Circe	hallucination — the fade-out	hallucinated	The phantom Josie dissolves mid-reminiscence of Leopardstown on a string of yesses — a pre-echo of Molly's word, given to the woman Bloom did not marry.	“MRS BREEN: (Eagerly.) Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. (She fades from his side. [...])”
~2 a.m. (approx)	17 · Ithaca	a catalogue — listed in Bloom's self-audit	recalled	Counted first among the day's women who received his 'magnetic face, form and address' favourably — a conversation of sympathy re-entered in the ledger as conquest.	“a wife (Mrs Josephine Breen, born Josie Powell), a nurse, Miss Callan (Christian name unknown), a maid, Gertrude (Gerty, family name unknown)”
no hour (Joyce's schema gives none)	18 · Penelope	memory — Molly's verdict on the rival of her girlhood	recalled	Molly reads Bloom's stirred appetite as the effect of meeting Josie, then dismantles her: the embraces that were aimed at him, the castoffs, and the marriage itself.	“it was meeting Josie Powell and the funeral and thinking about me and Boylan set him off”
no hour (Joyce's schema gives none)	18 · Penelope	memory — Molly on the marriage as sentence	recalled	The final word on what marriage to Denis left her: not a husband at all. Tracked from girlhood ('she used to be always embracing me Josie whenever he was there') to this.	“as for her Denis as she calls him that forlornlooking spectacle you couldnt call him a husband”

Mrs Riordan (Dante)

the women

The dimension's rentier: a widow 'of independent, if limited, means' — one of the few women in the book with her own money — whose capital goes to masses for herself, not to women, and whose interior life survives only as an inventory of bezique cards and a bathchair.

Income: The dimension's rentier: 'a widow of independent means' — and, in her infirmity, 'an infirm widow of independent, if limited, means' (both ep 17) — one of the few women in the book with her own capital, which is precisely why she is courted (the Cyclops narrator: Bloom 'playing bézique to come in for a bit of the wampum in her will'). Even her wealth is 'suppositious' in Bloom's memory. Its terminus is Molly's report: 'she never left us a farthing all for masses for herself and her soul' — a woman's money passing to the Church, not to women.
Mobility: By 16 June 1904, none: dead by the day of the book, though no episode gives a death date [inferred] (ep 6 says only 'Where old Mrs Riordan died'). The recorded radius of her life shrinks step by step — the Dedalus house, the City Arms Hotel, then a convalescent bathchair Bloom pushed 'as far as the corner of the North Circular road', from which she watched the traffic to Phoenix Park through one-lensed fieldglasses, then Our Lady's Hospice, 'the screen round her bed for her to die' (ep 6). Her last mobility was borrowed: a man's hands on the wheels, a lens on other people's movement.
Interiority: None — and the silence is the finding. The book never quotes a single word she spoke. She survives as inventory (ep 17: 'her bezique cards and counters, her Skye terrier, her suppositious wealth, her lapses of responsiveness and incipient catarrhal deafness'), as Bloom's deathbed image (the feeding cup, the spoon), as a pub anecdote about her will, as a name in a hallucinated mob, and as Molly's demolition — which grants her, backhandedly, the only inner life on record: 'a welleducated woman certainly'. The woman with her own money gets no voice at all.

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~11 a.m. (approx)	6 · Hades	memory — Bloom in the funeral carriage passing the Mater	recalled	Her dying at Our Lady's Hospice: feeding cup, spoon at her mouth, then the screen round the bed — Bloom's first thought of her is her death administered.	“Our Lady's Hospice for the dying. Deadhouse handy underneath. Where old Mrs Riordan died.”
~1 p.m. (approx)	8 · Lestrygonians	memory — Bloom in Davy Byrne's	recalled	Her City Arms years reduced to comic property: the Skye terrier with the rumbling stomach, Molly fondling it — the widow remembered via her dog.	“Old Mrs Riordan with the rumbling stomach's Skye terrier in the City Arms hotel. Molly fondling him in her lap.”
~5 p.m. (approx)	12 · Cyclops	men's talk — Pisser Burke's City Arms anecdote retold in Barney Kiernan's; she is unnamed here, the identification as Mrs Riordan is [inferred] from the matching City Arms/bézique/will data in ep 17	recalled	Her capital is the whole point of the story: Bloom cast as legacy-hunter at her card table. Her money is the only part of her the pub finds worth telling.	“there was an old one there with a cracked loodheramaun of a nephew and Bloom trying to get the soft side of her doing the mollycoddle playing bézique”
~12 midnight–1 a.m. (approx)	15 · Circe	hallucination — a name in the hue and cry pursuing Bloom	hallucinated	Dead eight years, she runs in Bloom's phantom mob between the Cyclops narrator and the Citizen — filed exactly among the day's accusers.	“Joe Cuffe, Mrs O'Dowd, Pisser Burke, The Nameless One, Mrs Riordan, The Citizen, Garryowen, Whodoyoucallhim”
~2 a.m. (approx)	17 · Ithaca	a catalogue — the catechism finds her as the 'third connecting link' between Bloom and Stephen	recalled	The only woman who bridges the book's two halves: Dante of Stephen's childhood house (1888–91), then Bloom's fellow-resident and 'constant informant' at the City Arms (1893–94).	“Mrs Riordan (Dante), a widow of independent means, had resided in the house of Stephen's parents from 1 September 1888 to 29 December 1891”
~2 a.m. (approx)	17 · Ithaca	a catalogue — Bloom's 'corporal work of mercy'	recalled	The bathchair on the North Circular road: her last recorded movement through the city, powered by Bloom, her seeing done through his fieldglasses.	“He had sometimes propelled her on warm summer evenings, an infirm widow of independent, if limited, means, in her convalescent bathchair with slow revolutions of its wheels”
~2 a.m. (approx)	17 · Ithaca	a catalogue — two men's paired memories of her	recalled	What survives of her interior life is strictly an inventory of objects and infirmities (Bloom's list), plus Stephen's: the colza lamp, the Parnell and Davitt brushes.	“The older, her bezique cards and counters, her Skye terrier, her suppositious wealth, her lapses of responsiveness and incipient catarrhal deafness”
no hour (Joyce's schema gives none)	18 · Penelope	memory — Molly's verdict, opening the monologue	recalled	The book's last word on her money: masses for her own soul, nothing to the living woman who nursed her talk — capital as piety, piety as miserliness.	“that old faggot Mrs Riordan that he thought he had a great leg of and she never left us a farthing all for masses for herself and her soul”
no hour (Joyce's schema gives none)	18 · Penelope	memory — Molly's counter-model of womanhood	recalled	Molly reads her piety as unchosen ('no man would look at her twice') and swears off her fate — yet concedes the one glimpse of an inner life: educated, political, talkative.	“I suppose she was pious because no man would look at her twice I hope Ill never be like her ... but she was a welleducated woman certainly”

Bella Cohen

the women

The only woman shown running a business on stage — setting prices, demanding damages, invoking the police as her enforcement — female capital at the sexual economy's top, whose hallucinated inversion into Bello shows what the text does with a woman holding power.

Income: Proprietor of the brothel at 82 Tyrone street, lower — 'a ten shilling house', her own phrase and her own price: she quotes 'It's ten shillings here', counts the money at the table herself, and demands ten shillings damages for the broken lamp, invoking the police as her enforcement. Hearsay income (Zoe, at the door, before Bella appears): she gambles through 'the vet her tipster that gives her all the winners and pays for her son in Oxford' — sourced as talk about her, not shown. She wears 'wedding and keeper rings' but no husband appears; whether she is wife or widow the text does not say.
Mobility: The text shows her only inside her own establishment — she enters the music room by its door, goes to the table, stands in the hall urging on her whores. She is never shown on a street, by day or night; where she goes when not 'on the job herself tonight' the text does not say. Her house is her whole shown territory — the one woman in the book whose premises are her power, and the frame never follows her out of them.
Interiority: None granted. She has speech and force but no interior monologue; her nearest inwardness is narrated surface — 'Her eyes hard with anger and cupidity.' The Fan dialogue and the entire Bello inversion are Bloom's hallucination, a masochist fantasy projected onto her, not her mind: the text marks the return to reality with her flat 'You'll know me the next time.' The woman who holds the most economic power of any woman on stage is granted the least inwardness — the omission is the datum (L-02).

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~12:15 a.m. [approx; episode ~midnight-1 a.m. per doc 03]	15 · Circe	men's talk (Zoe's talk at the door, before Bella appears)	present	Zoe identifies the house as Mrs Cohen's and reports her keeper's economics: gambling on a vet's tips, a son at Oxford paid for by the winnings.	“She's on the job herself tonight with the vet her tipster that gives her all the winners and pays for her son in Oxford.”
~12:35 a.m. [approx]	15 · Circe	on stage	present	Her entrance into the music room — the stage direction gives her capital, costume, and married status in one breath; her first line is bodily complaint, not seduction.	“Bella Cohen, a massive whoremistress, enters... On her left hand are wedding and keeper rings.”
~12:40 a.m. [approx]	15 · Circe	hallucination (Bloom's — the Fan speaks, then Bella becomes Bello and Bloom a woman)	hallucinated	The Bello inversion: the woman holding power is refigured as a male tyrant who unmans, brands ('Warranted Cohen!'), auctions and buries Bloom — Bloom's fantasy of female mastery, projected onto her, not her inwardness.	“Henceforth you are unmanned and mine in earnest, a thing under the yoke.”
~12:50 a.m. [approx]	15 · Circe	on stage	present	The hallucination breaks; the real Bella stands before Bloom and he faces her down. Her single flat line marks the return to the actual room.	“You'll know me the next time.”
~12:50 a.m. [approx]	15 · Circe	on stage	present	She sets the price to Stephen, takes his gold and two crowns, and goes to the table to count the money herself while the room squabbles over who pays what.	“Do you want three girls? It's ten shillings here.”
~1:00 a.m. [approx]	15 · Circe	on stage	present	After Stephen smashes the chandelier and flees, she seizes Bloom's coattail, demands ten shillings damages, screams 'Police!', and threatens 'Do you want me to call the police?' — female capital invoking the Crown's instrument as her enforcement; Bloom beats her down to a shilling with counter-threats about her son in Oxford.	“Here, none of your tall talk. This isn't a brothel. A ten shilling house.”
~1:00 a.m. [approx]	15 · Circe	a glimpse (from the halldoor as Bloom leaves)	present	Her last shown act: managing trade as new customers arrive by hackney car.	“Bella from within the hall urges on her whores.”
~1:00 a.m. [approx]	15 · Circe	men's talk (Corny Kelleher in Beaver street, and street voices: 'He was in Mrs Cohen's')	recalled	After the exit her name persists as an address in men's mouths — the house, not the woman.	“we left the two commercials in Mrs Cohen's and I told him to pull up”
~2:30 a.m. [approx; episode ~2:00-2:45 a.m. per doc 03]	17 · Ithaca	memory (the catechism's review of Bloom's day)	recalled	She is filed in Ithaca's inventory of the day as a place with a postal address — reduced from person to premises. (The episode's budget of the day's expenses, notably, omits what was spent there.)	“the visit to the disorderly house of Mrs Bella Cohen, 82 Tyrone street, lower”

the streetwalker (the frowsy whore of the lane)

the women

The income floor: street sex work with mobility policed by informal geography ('Off her beat here'), driven from the cabman's shelter door at 1 a.m. — no shelter, no name, no voice, and Bloom's one bleak economic verdict: 'she has to live like the rest'.

Income: Street sex work at the income floor, never named as such in her presence: she once accosted Bloom with 'Psst! Any chance of your wash' — solicitation euphemized as begging laundry work — and at the shelter she is 'palpably reconnoitring on her own with the object of bringing more grist to her mill.' Bloom's one economic verdict closes the account: 'she has to live like the rest.' What she actually earns the text does not say.
Mobility: Policed by informal geography rather than law: Bloom's instant reading on Ormond quay is 'Off her beat here' — she has a beat, and daylight on the quays is outside it ('Looks a fright in the day'). Her working ground is the lane at night ('Wet night in the lane'). At ~1 a.m. she gets only as far as the cabman's shelter door before 'the keeper made her a rude sign to take herself off' — no shelter, even in a shed for night men. Bloom links her to the Lock hospital (the venereal lock-up), his supposition, not shown. She is the only one of these women shown moving through the open city, and every space she enters expels her.
Interiority: Almost none — but the claim of total silence is false. Her only recorded words survive inside Bloom's memory (ep 11): 'Psst! Any chance of your wash.' and 'Stout lady does be with you in the brown costume.' — a solicitation euphemised as laundry work, and the proof that she knew Molly by sight; both are recalled by Bloom, never spoken on a present stage. Beyond those two remembered lines she is a hat, a face 'glazed and haggard', a 'demented glassy grin' — mind read entirely from outside, and read cruelly: Bloom's narration calls her 'the partially idiotic female.' The grin 'viewing with evident amusement' the gawkers round the sailor's chest is the sole flicker of a perspective granted her, and even that is Bloom's inference. She is never given an interior monologue; what she says reaches us only as another man's recollection — the finding is voicelessness on the page, not literal silence (L-02).

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~4:55 p.m. [approx; episode closes ~5:00 per doc 03]	11 · Sirens	a glimpse (seen approaching along Ormond quay; Bloom evades her by turning to a shop window)	present	She comes along the quay toward Bloom in daylight, off her beat; he hides in Lionel Marks's window until 'She's passing now' — the episode's sung sirens end on the unsinging one, avoided.	“A frowsy whore with black straw sailor hat askew came glazily in the day along the quay towards Mr Bloom.”
~4:55 p.m. [approx]	11 · Sirens	memory (Bloom's recall, inside the sighting, of a prior night encounter)	recalled	A past solicitation in the lane: she knew Molly by sight ('Stout lady does be with you in the brown costume'), which made her 'too dear too near to home sweet home', and an appointment both knew would never be kept.	“Psst! Any chance of your wash. Knew Molly. Had me decked.”
~1:20 a.m. [approx; episode ~1:00-2:00 a.m. per doc 03]	16 · Eumaeus	a glimpse (her face round the shelter door; driven off by the keeper)	present	She reconnoitres the cabman's shelter for custom; Bloom recognizes the same face from Ormond quay and hides behind the pink Telegraph; the keeper's rude sign expels her — 'then there was no more of her.'	“The face of a streetwalker glazed and haggard under a black straw hat peered askew round the door of the shelter”
~1:25 a.m. [approx]	16 · Eumaeus	men's talk (Bloom and Stephen, after her expulsion)	recalled	The two verdicts spoken over her absence: Bloom's sanitary-administrative one — 'a wretched creature like that from the Lock hospital', women of that stamp should be 'licensed and medically inspected by the proper authorities' — and Stephen's economic-theological one. She gets policy and epigram; she does not get a name.	“She is a bad merchant. She buys dear and sells cheap.”

Miss Lydia Douce and Miss Mina Kennedy

the women

Waged service work performed as surface for male patrons — arm, garter-smack, blouse priced at two and nine a yard — with the text's rare flickers of granted lower-middle inwardness ('Pensive (who knows?)' and 'It's them has the fine times').

Income: Waged bar service at the Ormond Hotel under a manageress — Douce's threat to the boots, 'I'll complain to Mrs de Massey on you', is the one glimpse of the employment structure. Their wages are read through cloth: blouses 'both of black satin, two and nine a yard... and two and seven.' Douce can afford a seaside holiday in Rostrevor ('Lying out on the strand all day'). Their work as performed is surface for male patrons — pouring whisky 'with grace of alacrity', the sunburnt arm displayed, the garter smacked on demand. Exact wages the text does not say.
Mobility: Their day is the bar and its window: the crossblind is their 'spyingpoint' on the city that passes — the viceregal cavalcade goes by and they watch it from behind glass, twice glimpsed from outside as two heads 'above the crossblind.' Within the hotel they move counter to mirror to dropblind; they crouch 'under their reef of counter' on footstools and crates to drink their own tea out of sight. Mobility beyond the bar exists only as a recalled holiday (Douce's Rostrevor) and as Kennedy's envy of men who travel: 'It's them has the fine times.'
Interiority: The text's rare flickers of granted lower-middle inwardness — more than the streetwalker or Bella get, far less than a monologue. Kennedy's sad 'It's them has the fine times' is spoken inwardness; Douce is granted narrator's parentheses that open and instantly qualify her mind: 'Pensive (who knows?), smitten (the smiting light)' and, of Boylan, '(why did he go so quick when I?)' — the '(who knows?)' conceding the narration itself cannot vouch for her inside. Otherwise they are composed into surface: bronze and gold, an arm, a rose, a garter — an orchestration of women as timbre.

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~3:30 p.m. [approx; Wandering Rocks ~2:55-4:00 per doc 03]	10 · Wandering Rocks	a glimpse (interpolated into the Cunningham section)	present	Two heads over the crossblind — the barmaids enter the book as an interpolated fragment, faces at a window in the city's simultaneity.	“Bronze by gold, Miss Kennedy's head by Miss Douce's head, appeared above the crossblind of the Ormond hotel.”
~4:00 p.m. [approx]	10 · Wandering Rocks	a glimpse (in the viceregal cavalcade section)	present	As the Crown drives past, they watch and admire from behind the blind — spectators of rule from the window of their workplace.	“gold by bronze, Miss Kennedy's head by Miss Douce's head watched and admired”
~3:55 p.m. [approx; Sirens ~3:55-5:00 per doc 03]	11 · Sirens	on stage	present	The episode proper opens on them watching the cavalcade — Douce darting to the pane after a man in the second carriage, then Kennedy's sad verdict on male mobility and their own fixity.	“It's them has the fine times, sadly then she said.”
~4:00 p.m. [approx]	11 · Sirens	on stage	present	The teas behind the counter: the boots banging the tray, Douce's threat of Mrs de Massey, and the pair crouched under the counter fingering their priced satin — service work's backstage, shown once.	“They pawed their blouses, both of black satin, two and nine a yard, waiting for their teas to draw, and two and seven.”
~4:05 p.m. [approx]	11 · Sirens	on stage	present	Douce back from her Rostrevor holiday, her sunburn made a bar attraction — Simon Dedalus and Lenehan take her arm and her 'maidenhair' as conversation pieces.	“Gorgeous, she said. Look at the holy show I am. Lying out on the strand all day.”
~4:20 p.m. [approx]	11 · Sirens	on stage	present	Sonnez la cloche: at Lenehan's and Boylan's urging Douce smacks her garter against her thigh for the patrons — her body performed as the bar's instrument, though she taunts and delays on her own terms first.	“Smack. She set free sudden in rebound her nipped elastic garter smackwarm against her smackable a woman's warmhosed thigh.”
~4:30 p.m. [approx]	11 · Sirens	on stage	present	After Boylan leaves abruptly for Eccles street, Douce lowers the dropblind — the narration grants her its most careful flicker of inwardness and marks its own uncertainty about it.	“Gone. Pensive (who knows?), smitten (the smiting light), she lowered the dropblind with a sliding cord.”
~4:55 p.m. [approx]	11 · Sirens	on stage	present	The closing tableau: the men's toast composed around Douce as ornament — she is the rose the glasses chink before; Kennedy serves the tankards.	“they chinked their clinking glasses all, brighteyed and gallant, before bronze Lydia's tempting last rose of summer, rose of Castile.”
~12:55 a.m. [approx; Circe ~midnight-1 a.m. per doc 03]	15 · Circe	hallucination (a tableau in the Circe phantasmagoria, on the passing hackney car's route)	hallucinated	As Boylan's hallucinated car trots past, the two barmaids reappear gazing sadly over their crossblind and whispering — the afternoon's window-image replayed inside the night's delirium.	“Sadly over the crossblind Lydia Douce and Mina Kennedy gaze.”

Mrs Dignam

the women

The widow who never appears: her solvency, insurance policy and children's futures debated and disposed of entirely by men across six episodes — the day's clearest case of a woman existing as other people's arithmetic.

Income: None of her own; the text makes her solvency entirely posthumous and entirely administered by men. Paddy's life policy was mortgaged to the moneylender Bridgeman without notice to the company (ep 6, ep 12); Martin Cunningham gets up 'a whip for the youngsters... a few bob a skull' (ep 6); Bloom contributes 5 shillings ('In Memoriam Patrick Dignam 0—5—0', ep 17 budget) and undertakes to pursue the Scottish Widows office for her (ep 13); Molly asks 'what are his wife and 5 children going to do unless he was insured' (ep 18). Whether she will ever receive the money is still unresolved when the book ends.
Mobility: The text never moves her an inch. Her whole day, so far as the book records it, is spent inside the house of mourning at 9 Newbridge Avenue, Sandymount; the parlour of sniffling women and tawny sherry is seen only through her son, sent out for a pound and a half of porksteaks (ep 10). Bloom and Cunningham actually visit her at the house in the evening — and the text elides the entire visit as 'a blank period of time including a cardrive, a visit to a house of mourning, a leavetaking' (ep 17). Even the one scene set in her own home is not shown. [inferred: that she remained at home all day — the text simply never places her anywhere else]
Interiority: None. She has no line of dialogue and not one word of inner life anywhere in the eighteen episodes. Her grief reaches the text only refracted — her son's 'He told me to be a good son to ma', Kernan's 'a great blow to the poor wife', Bob Doran's drunken condolences entrusted to Bloom rather than delivered. Her single 'appearance' in the flesh is Bloom's Circe hallucination, and even that is all exterior: weeds, rouge, sherry-flush, her dead husband's trousers under her skirt, the insurance policy in her hand. The omission is the finding (L-02): six episodes of men doing her arithmetic, zero words from her.

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~11:15 a.m. (approx.)	6 · Hades	men's talk in the funeral carriage	recalled	Bloom asks Kernan whether Dignam was insured; her future is weighed as a mortgaged policy and five children, and she enters the conversation only as 'the poor wife'.	“I believe so, Mr Kernan answered. But the policy was heavily mortgaged. Martin is trying to get the youngster into Artane.”
~11:50 a.m. (approx.)	6 · Hades	men's talk at the graveside	recalled	Ned Lambert announces Cunningham's collection for the children while the coffin is still above ground; her household is a subscription list before her husband is buried.	“Martin is going to get up a whip for the youngsters... A few bob a skull. Just to keep them going till the insurance is cleared up.”
~3:45 p.m. (approx.)	10 · Wandering Rocks	her son's errand and memory	recalled	She appears only as 'ma' in Master Patrick's section — the parlour of condoling women he escaped, the porksteaks he was sent for, and his father's dying charge concerning her.	“He told me to be a good son to ma. I couldn’t hear the other things he said”
~5:00 p.m. (approx.)	12 · Cyclops	men's talk in Barney Kiernan's	recalled	Bloom, waiting for Cunningham about the insurance, explains the legal tangle; the narrator garbles it; Bob Doran drunkenly asks Bloom to carry his condolences to her — even sympathy reaches her by male proxy.	“Dignam owed Bridgeman the money and if now the wife or the widow contested the mortgagee’s right”
~8:15 p.m. (approx.)	13 · Nausicaa	a girl's passing thought	recalled	In Gerty's beauty-column reverie the widow of the day's funeral surfaces as a nose that would suit a newspaper remedy — the day's grief graded by button noses.	“That would suit Mrs Dignam because she had a button one.”
~8:50 p.m. (approx.)	13 · Nausicaa	Bloom's thoughts on the strand	recalled	Bloom, remembering the house of mourning, states her situation in five words — she wants the money — and renews his promise to chase the insurance office; he also recalls her once 'marriageable', like Mrs Breen.	“Anyhow she wants the money. Must call to those Scottish Widows as I promised.”
~12:30 a.m. (approx.)	15 · Circe	an apparition in Bella Cohen's	hallucinated	Her only bodily 'appearance' in the book: a hallucinated widow in weeds wearing her dead husband's trousers and boots, clutching the insurance policy and an umbrella, cuffing her brood along — Bloom's guilt-image of the family arithmetic he has been carrying all day.	“Mrs Dignam, widow woman, her snubnose and cheeks flushed with deathtalk, tears and Tunney’s tawny sherry, hurries by in her weeds”
~2:15 a.m. (approx.)	17 · Ithaca	a blank in the day's catechism	recalled	The one scene in which Bloom actually met her — the evening visit to Newbridge Avenue about the insurance — is the only stretch of his day the text refuses to narrate: it survives only as a listed blank. The book's clearest case of the omission being the data.	“a blank period of time including a cardrive, a visit to a house of mourning, a leavetaking”
~2:30 a.m. (approx.)	17 · Ithaca	a ledger entry in Bloom's budget	recalled	Her family's provision closes the day as a line in Bloom's accounts: five shillings to the memorial fund, entered between a coffee and the cocoa.	“1 In Memoriam Patrick Dignam 0—5—0”
no hour (Joyce assigned Penelope none; after ~2:45 a.m.)	18 · Penelope	Molly's monologue	recalled	The book's last word on her is another woman's: Molly asks the question the men have circled all day, then appraises her mourning clothes — 'her widows weeds wont improve her appearance'. Even from a woman, she is arithmetic and appearance.	“poor Paddy Dignam all the same Im sorry in a way for him what are his wife and 5 children going to do unless he was insured”

Mina Purefoy

the women

The childbearing body as life sentence — three days in labour with the ninth child, kept by a t.t. Methodist husband — present through a whole episode only as a cry through the floor and men's talk, her one 'interiority' a borrowed Dickens pastiche.

Income: Kept, entirely. Her husband Theodore is 'the conscientious second accountant of the Ulster bank, College Green branch' (ep 14), a teetotal Methodist 'supposed to be well connected' with a cousin in Dublin Castle (ep 8); the household runs on his salary and his economies ('bemoiled with butcher's bills at home and ingots (not thine!) in the countinghouse', ep 14). She was admitted to Holles street as a charity case — 'got in through pleading her belly' (ep 14). The text gives her no money, no earning, and no property of her own; what her husband gives her, in Bloom's phrase, is 'hardy annuals' — a child a year.
Mobility: For the entire day of the book she does not move at all: one labour bed in the National Maternity Hospital, Holles street, where she has been 'three days bad' when the book first names her at 1 p.m. (ep 8) and where the ninth child is delivered around 11 p.m. (ep 14). She is the only woman in the census whose confinement is literal — the childbearing body as a fixed point that half the cast's talk orbits. Where she can go on other days the text does not say.
Interiority: None in her own voice. She has no line of dialogue and is never once on stage: through the whole of episode 14 she is upstairs and unseen while men drink below, her birth announced by Nurse Callan whispering to Dixon. The only 'inwardness' the book grants her is the Oxen narrator's Dickens pastiche — 'she reclines there with the motherlight in her eyes... breathing a silent prayer of thanksgiving' — borrowed sentiment in a borrowed style, immediately followed by the paean crediting the birth to her husband ('By heaven, Theodore Purefoy, thou hast done a doughty deed'). Otherwise she exists as Bloom's recurring pity ('Poor Mrs Purefoy') and a hallucinated body in Circe. The one real interiority her labour produces in the text is Bloom's, not hers.

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~1:10 p.m. (approx.)	8 · Lestrygonians	women's street talk — Mrs Breen to Bloom	recalled	Her first entry into the book: news of her labour, three days on, delivered secondhand in Westmoreland street, with 'a houseful of kids at home'.	“She’s in the lying-in hospital in Holles street. Dr Horne got her in. She’s three days bad now.”
~1:30 p.m. (approx.)	8 · Lestrygonians	Bloom's thoughts	recalled	Bloom turns the news over — the Methodist husband, the stopwatch meals, the yearly pregnancies, 'then having to give the breast year after year all hours of the night' — and later compresses her into one image of the city's churn.	“Mina Purefoy swollen belly on a bed groaning to have a child tugged out of her.”
~3:30 p.m. (approx.)	10 · Wandering Rocks	Bloom's thoughts at the bookcart	recalled	Over the obstetric plates of Aristotle's Masterpiece — 'infants cuddled in a ball in bloodred wombs' — her name surfaces as the day's instance of a universal statistic.	“Child born every minute somewhere. Mrs Purefoy.”
~4:40 p.m. (approx.)	11 · Sirens	Bloom's thoughts in the Ormond	recalled	Twice while the music plays she crosses Bloom's mind — between his letter to Martha and the dying fall of the songs, her labour and 'their wombs' set against the men's singing.	“For all things dying, for all things born. Poor Mrs Purefoy.”
~8:55 p.m. (approx.)	13 · Nausicaa	Bloom's thoughts on the strand	recalled	Bloom resolves on the visit that will cause the meeting of the book's two heroes: her labour is the hinge of the plot, and she will never know it.	“Mrs Beaufoy, Purefoy. Must call to the hospital. Wonder is nurse Callan there still.”
~10:00–11:00 p.m.	14 · Oxen of the Sun	a cry through the floor — upstairs, unseen, in men's talk below	present	Present in the building for the entire episode and never once on stage: two days past her term, 'on the stools, poor body', while downstairs the students mock fertility over their ale. Her ninth living child.	“Mistress Purefoy there, that got in through pleading her belly, and now on the stools, poor body, two days past her term”
~11:00 p.m. (approx.)	14 · Oxen of the Sun	word brought downstairs by Nurse Callan	present	The birth itself reaches the text as a whisper between a nurse and a doctor — the labouring woman's climax of three days rendered as 'a few words in a low tone' to a man.	“Miss Callan entered and, having spoken a few words in a low tone to young Mr Dixon, retired with a profound bow to the company.”
~11:00 p.m. (approx.)	14 · Oxen of the Sun	a borrowed interiority — the narrator's Dickens pastiche, then the paean to her husband	present	The only inwardness the book ever gives her is pastiche — 'the motherlight in her eyes', a thanksgiving scripted for her in secondhand style — and the episode's final apostrophe hands the achievement to Theodore: the mother's labour becomes the father's 'doughty deed'.	“By heaven, Theodore Purefoy, thou hast done a doughty deed and no botch!”
~12:10 a.m. (approx.)	15 · Circe	Bloom's thoughts in Nighttown	recalled	Bloom names her as the whole reason the meeting with Stephen happened at all — 'Kismet' — her offstage labour steering the book's central event.	“If I hadn’t heard about Mrs Beaufoy Purefoy I wouldn’t have gone and wouldn’t have met.”
~12:50 a.m. (approx.)	15 · Circe	the Black Mass apparition	hallucinated	In the apocalypse of Circe the childbearing body becomes the altar itself: naked, fettered, a chalice on the belly that was 'swollen' in Bloom's 1 p.m. thought. She and Theodore also run, hallucinated, in the hue and cry after Bloom.	“On the altarstone Mrs Mina Purefoy, goddess of unreason, lies, naked, fettered, a chalice resting on her swollen belly”
~2:15 a.m. (approx.)	17 · Ithaca	the day's catechism	recalled	Her three days' labour is filed in Bloom's liturgical inventory of his day as a single ritual phrase between Sandymount and Nighttown.	“the prolonged delivery of Mrs Mina Purefoy (heave offering)”
no hour (Joyce assigned Penelope none; after ~2:45 a.m.)	18 · Penelope	Molly's monologue	recalled	The book's one female verdict on her case: Molly, who knows what labour is, turns on the husband — the only voice in eighteen episodes that frames Mina's nine children as something done to her.	“Mina Purefoys husband give us a swing out of your whiskers filling her up with a child or twins once a year as regular as the clock”

Cissy Caffrey

the women

Unpaid child-minder who is nonetheless the physically freest woman in the book — runs, whistles, once walked Tritonville road in her father's suit smoking — until Circe shows the price of that freedom: at night her mobility exists only on soldiers' arms.

Income: The text does not say that the daytime Cissy earns anything: the minding of her twin brothers and of baby Boardman on the strand is unpaid family and neighbour labour, done wholly by the girls. The night of Circe puts a price on her for the first time — 'I'm faithful to the man that's treating me though I'm only a shilling whore' — a shilling, on a soldier's arm. Whether the Nighttown Cissy is the same girl or the night's transformation of her is an ambiguity the text leaves standing; taken at the letter, by day she is paid nothing and by night a shilling. [inferred: that the strand child-minding is unpaid — the text shows no payment and frames it as sisterhood]
Mobility: By day the physically freest woman in the book: she runs down the strand 'with long gandery strides', whistles 'imitating the boys in the football field', walks up to a strange man to ask the time — the only woman of the day who addresses Bloom on her own initiative — and is remembered walking down Tritonville road in her father's suit and hat, burned cork moustache, smoking a cigarette. But the frame is visible even at 8 p.m.: she moves trailing a pushcar and three children, and must have them home early. At midnight her freedom has changed sign: in Nighttown she moves only in company of Privates Carr and Compton — 'I was in company with the soldiers and they left me to do—you know' — and when violence starts her one available motion is to seize a soldier's sleeve. The day's freest walker ends the night as the ground men fight over.
Interiority: The text grants her no inner monologue anywhere. In Nausicaa she is seen entirely from outside, and through a rival's lens — Gerty's narration, which credits her warmth ('a truerhearted lass never drew the breath of life') and undercuts her body in the same breath. All her vitality is in speech and act: 'half past kissing time', 'uncle said his waterworks were out of order'. The nearest the book comes to her inside is Gerty's guess — 'Cissy Caffrey too sometimes had that dreamy kind of dreamy look in her eyes' — an outside look at an inside. In Circe she is voice and gesture in stage directions: song, panic, and the final 'I forgive him', with no access to what any of it costs her.

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~8:00 p.m. (approx.)	13 · Nausicaa	on stage — the strand, minding children	present	Opens the episode as the working girl of the trio: teaching the baby words, cleaning sand off Tommy, holding noses for castor oil — the unpaid nurse of two households.	“Cissy Caffrey cuddled the wee chap for she was awfully fond of children, so patient with little sufferers”
~8:10 p.m. (approx.)	13 · Nausicaa	Gerty's memory	recalled	The book's single image of a woman borrowing men's full mobility: cross-dressed, moustached, smoking, walking a public road for fun — recalled admiringly by Gerty as the measure of her daring.	“the evening she dressed up in her father’s suit and hat and the burned cork moustache and walked down Tritonville road, smoking a cigarette”
~8:30 p.m. (approx.)	13 · Nausicaa	on stage — running after the twins	present	The run down the strand past Bloom: pure physical freedom, instantly reframed by Gerty's narration as showing-off and 'a lot of the tomboy'. She also snatches and throws the ball, whistles like the boys, and threatens clips on the ear.	“She ran with long gandery strides it was a wonder she didn’t rip up her skirt at the side”
~8:40 p.m. (approx.)	13 · Nausicaa	on stage — she speaks to Bloom	present	The only woman on the strand who walks up to the stranger and speaks: she asks Bloom the time (his watch has stopped at half past four, Boylan's hour) and returns with her tongue out — 'uncle said his waterworks were out of order'.	“Cissy said to excuse her would he mind please telling her what was the right time”
~8:50 p.m. (approx.)	13 · Nausicaa	on stage — leaving with the children	present	Her exit is her duty: whistling like a footballer, then gathering twins, ball, spades, buckets and baby for the walk home — the freedom always towing the pushcar. Bloom's after-thoughts barely register her; his eye stayed on Gerty.	“Cissy Caffrey whistled, imitating the boys in the football field to show what a great person she was”
~12:00 midnight (approx.)	15 · Circe	on stage — a voice from a lane in Nighttown	present	The first named voice of Nighttown: singing a bawdy street song near the two redcoats, trading banter with a virago. The day's whistler is now the night's singer, and the company has changed to soldiers.	“Cissy Caffrey’s voice, still young, sings shrill from a lane.”
~12:45 a.m. (approx.)	15 · Circe	on stage — Beaver street, the brawl gathering	present	Her one self-description in the book, and the price of the night's mobility stated in her own voice: her movement, her loyalty and her shilling all belong to the soldiers' economy.	“I was in company with the soldiers and they left me to do—you know, and the young man run up behind me.”
~12:50 a.m. (approx.)	15 · Circe	on stage — as the fight ignites	present	Made the pretext of the violence — 'They're going to fight. For me!' — then shown what that means: when Bloom begs her to speak and stop it, her only safety is to cling to the soldier and call for the police.	“Amn’t I with you? Amn’t I your girl? Cissy’s your girl. (She cries.) Police!”
~12:55 a.m. (approx.)	15 · Circe	on stage — after the blow	present	The last we see of her: pulling Private Carr off, forgiving Stephen an insult he never gave — the freest girl of the afternoon spending her last recorded words managing a drunk soldier's temper. Then she is gone from the book.	“Come on, you’re boosed. He insulted me but I forgive him. (Shouting in his ear.) I forgive him for insulting me.”

Ann Hathaway (Ann Shakespeare)

the women

The pure men's-talk pole: an entire episode's central woman reconstructed wholly by male theorising — seducer, debtor, adulteress by conjecture, legatee of the secondbest bed — with Stephen's own diagnosis of the method ('their life, thought, speech are lent them by males') attached.

Income: The text gives only fragments, all reported by men in the library: while Shakespeare 'was living richly in royal London to pay a debt she had to borrow forty shillings from her father's shepherd' (ep. 9) — a wife left without means; Eglinton's jurists say 'She was entitled to her widow's dower / At common law' (ep. 9); the will leaves her only the secondbest bed; in old age the town council pays for a visiting gospeller's quart of sack at New Place. How she was actually kept day to day between the wooing and the widowhood the text does not say — [inferred: kept as the wife maintained at Stratford on the rich country gentleman's estate, since Stephen makes him 'a capitalist shareholder, a bill promoter, a tithefarmer']. She earns nothing in the text; even her one recorded financial act is borrowing.
Mobility: Her entire recorded geography is three points in Stratford, all assigned to her by the men theorising: a cornfield/ryefield where she 'tumbles... a lover younger than herself'; twenty years 'behind the diamond panes' at Stratford while he dallied in London ('poor Penelope in Stratford'); and finally the secondbest bed where 'She lies laid out in stark stiffness.' The text never moves her anywhere — she does not travel, walk, or leave a room, because she never enters one. Where she could and could not go the text does not say; the silence is the finding — her mobility is field, window, bed.
Interiority: None granted — the extreme case of L-02. She never speaks a word anywhere in the book; the closest thing to her voice is a pun on her name ('If others have their will Ann hath a way'). Every inward state attributed to her is male conjecture: Stephen makes her 'hot in the blood,' calculating ('She put the comether on him'), and finally remorseful ('Venus has twisted her lips in prayer. Agenbite of inwit'); Eglinton makes her a shrew and her widowhood 'the will to die'; Best notes only that she has been forgotten. Stephen himself supplies the diagnosis of the method that constructs her, speaking of Shakespeare's boywomen: 'Their life, thought, speech are lent them by males' (ep. 9) — a sentence that describes exactly what this episode does to Ann. Her interiority is not withheld by the text so much as manufactured, in three incompatible versions, by men arguing.

HOW SHE ENTERS THE TEXT, HOUR BY HOUR
Hour in the text	Episode	How she enters	State	What the text gives her	The text, 1922
~2:10 p.m. (approx., from doc 03: episode runs 2–3 p.m.)	9 · Scylla and Charybdis	men's talk	recalled	Stephen, expounding his Hamlet theory in the National Library, casts her as Gertrude — the ghost-father Shakespeare addressing Hamnet's namesake, with Ann as the betraying mother.	“you are the dispossessed son: I am the murdered father: your mother is the guilty queen, Ann Shakespeare, born Hathaway?”
~2:15 p.m. (approx.)	9 · Scylla and Charybdis	men's talk	recalled	Eglinton declares her ghost 'laid for ever' — dead for literature before she was born; Stephen retorts with the whole arc of her life with Shakespeare, birth to deathbed.	“She saw him into and out of the world. She took his first embraces. She bore his children and she laid pennies on his eyes”
~2:15 p.m. (approx.)	9 · Scylla and Charybdis	men's talk	recalled	Eglinton reduces her to the shrew of tradition, pairing her with Xanthippe as a wife of no use to genius.	“A shrew, John Eglinton said shrewdly, is not a useful portal of discovery, one should imagine.”
~2:20 p.m. (approx.)	9 · Scylla and Charybdis	men's talk	recalled	Best names the omission itself — the room notices it has been forgetting her, as the poet did. The book's one moment of registering her erasure, spoken 'forgetfully.'	“But Ann Hathaway? Mr Best's quiet voice said forgetfully. Yes, we seem to be forgetting her as Shakespeare himself forgot her.”
~2:20 p.m. (approx.)	9 · Scylla and Charybdis	men's talk	recalled	Stephen's seduction theory: the older woman as agent, the wooing in the cornfield, the pun that gives her her only agency in the book — 'a boldfaced Stratford wench who tumbles in a cornfield a lover younger than herself.'	“He was chosen, it seems to me. If others have their will Ann hath a way. By cock, she was to blame.”
~2:30 p.m. (approx.)	9 · Scylla and Charybdis	men's talk	recalled	The wooing recast as wound: Stephen makes her seduction the injury from which all the plays flow, the shrew retaining 'woman's invisible weapon.'	“He was overborne in a cornfield first (ryefield, I should say) and he will never be a victor in his own eyes after”
~2:35 p.m. (approx.)	9 · Scylla and Charybdis	men's talk	recalled	After cataloguing Shakespeare's London mistresses, Stephen turns to the wife left behind — Ann as failed Penelope, confined behind the windows of Stratford for twenty years.	“But all those twenty years what do you suppose poor Penelope in Stratford was doing behind the diamond panes?”
~2:35 p.m. (approx.)	9 · Scylla and Charybdis	men's talk	recalled	Stephen's adultery conjecture: a broken bedvow with the deceased husband's brother (Richard or Edmund Shakespeare) — infamy branded on her via Hamlet's fifth scene, wholly by inference.	“Sweet Ann, I take it, was hot in the blood. Once a wooer, twice a wooer.”
~2:35 p.m. (approx.)	9 · Scylla and Charybdis	men's talk	recalled	The one documentary trace of her life the text cites: her debt — poverty in Stratford while he was rich in London. The book's only record of her economic existence.	“In the years when he was living richly in royal London to pay a debt she had to borrow forty shillings from her father's shepherd.”
~2:40 p.m. (approx.)	9 · Scylla and Charybdis	men's talk	recalled	The will: her name left out of the first draft, then the legacy that defines her for posterity — the passage breaks into verse and stammer ('Leftherhis / Secondbest / Leftabed').	“Why did he not leave her his best bed if he wished her to snore away the rest of her nights in peace?”
~2:40 p.m. (approx.)	9 · Scylla and Charybdis	men's talk	recalled	Her widowhood and old age, invented on the spot: Eglinton philosophises 'for poor Ann, Will's widow, is the will to die'; Stephen lays her out and gives her a late religiosity of gospellers and chapbooks, ending in conjectured remorse.	“She lies laid out in stark stiffness in that secondbest bed, the mobled queen”
~2:50 p.m. (approx.)	9 · Scylla and Charybdis	men's talk	recalled	Stephen maps Richard III onto the brother-adultery theme, making her the wooed widow of the history plays — her final transformation of the hour, into a character.	“makes love to a widowed Ann (what's in a name?), woos and wins her, a whoreson merry widow.”
~10:30 p.m. (approx., from doc 03: episode runs 10–11 p.m.)	14 · Oxen of the Sun	men's talk	recalled	In the maternity-hospital carousal Stephen reprises the library theory as mock-scripture: Ann unnamed, present only as the bed itself, the cuckoldry generalized into a national parable of the stranger in the tower.	“Bring a stranger within thy tower it will go hard but thou wilt have the secondbest bed.”
~12:05 a.m. (approx., from doc 03: episode runs midnight–1 a.m.)	15 · Circe	men's talk	recalled	Stephen, walking into Nighttown with Lynch, carries the shrew-figure with him — Ann compressed to a single epithet riding Shakespeare, paired again with Xanthippe.	“We have shrewridden Shakespeare and henpecked Socrates. Even the allwisest Stagyrite was bitted, bridled and mounted by a light of love.”
~12:35 a.m. (approx.)	15 · Circe	hallucination	hallucinated	In Bloom's degradation by Bello, Ann's sole legacy is recycled as a taunt against another betrayed husband — her bed become a proverb of cuckoldry, detached from her entirely.	“You have made your secondbest bed and others must lie in it. Your epitaph is written.”
~12:50 a.m. (approx.)	15 · Circe	hallucination	hallucinated	Shakespeare's paralysed face appears to Stephen and Bloom in Bella Cohen's mirror and croaks the wife-guilt formula from the library ('wed her second, having killed her first') — Ann present only as the grievance inside the ghost. Whether this garble points at Ann or at the granddaughter Elizabeth of Stephen's theory the text leaves undecided; [inferred] it fuses both into the one guilty-widow figure.	“SHAKESPEARE: (With paralytic rage.) Weda seca whokilla farst.”

Drawn and never named

the women

Below the census sits the layer its own rule could not see: the women the 1922 text draws — an act, a speech, a bodily presence in the day's narration — and never names with a personal name anywhere in the book. A census that admits by name structurally cannot reach them (learning L-38, applied to persons by joint session 09), so they are entered here under a denomination of their own, apart from the sixteen: the head entry first — the servant girl at the pork butcher's counter, per the session that commissioned the register — and after her, the order of the day's text.

The admission rule: A woman is admitted when the held 1922 text DRAWS her — gives her an act, a speech, or a bodily presence in the day's narration — and never names her with a personal name anywhere in the book. Figures who are only referred to, remembered or hallucinated are out: drawn means A3's present, including Circe's real plane, never its apparitions. Groups the text draws as groups are recorded as groups, not entries; a child the text itself sets against 'woman' in the same scene is not an entry, while the working girls the text draws as women are. The rule does not stop at the census's edge: two census entries — the milk woman and the streetwalker of the lane — satisfy it and stand in both records, which is part of why the register is denominated apart. Every designation was searched against the whole book for a personal name before admission, and every passage below is verbatim from the 1922 text, adversarially verified (A19).
Why no total is printed: The register is uncounted, here and on every surface, because a count would assert for these women the very reachability the sixteen have and they do not — the register exists to mark that absence, not to close it (L-38).
The appearance unit, and a dispute held open: For the census, an appearance is one row of an entry's hour-by-hour table — one entry the woman makes into the day's text, on stage, as a body part, as a letter, as men's talk, with its hour, its A3 state and its verbatim passage — and the opening paragraph's 181 counts those rows and nothing else. Whether the dimension's interiority/independence inversion survives that unit is DISPUTED, and it is shown here as unresolved (A4): at joint session 09 the Pamuk and Warburg lenses graded it the strongest of the nine built dimensions' findings — a negative relation nobody went looking for, between two independently scored axes — while the Kenner, Shneiderman and Ginzburg lenses answered that Molly's inside is a chapter allocation, Milly is paper because Mullingar is offstage, and recoding one woman moves the line. The session record is docs/panel-session-09.md; this register settles none of it and is not a second count.
The dissent, beside the register: From the same session, at full strength. KENNER, joined in effect by Galeano: 'The register of the unnamed will return compositional decisions, not women. It will be a monument dressed as a census, and dimension 2's correlation, on which the whole fault line rests, is chapter allocation and offstage geography.' ATWOOD's reply, unrebutted at the table: 'a denominated absence at full footprint is what the Atlas already does twenty-six times, and nobody mistakes those for holdings.' Both are constructed critical lenses named for people whose working methods they abstract, not those people's opinions — the session record's own disclaimer applies (docs/panel-session-09.md, second dissent).

DRAWN AND NEVER NAMED · THE HEAD ENTRY FIRST (JOINT SESSION 09), THEN THE ORDER OF THE DAY’S TEXT · NO TOTAL IS PRINTED (L-38)
The text's own designation	Episode	State	The text, 1922
the nextdoor girl (addressed by the porkbutcher as 'my miss'; servant of the Woods household)	4 · Calypso	present	“—Now, my miss, he said. She tendered a coin, smiling boldly, holding her thick wrist out.”
the milkwoman (also 'An old woman' / 'the old woman'; addressed as 'ma’am'; also a census entry, the milk woman)	1 · Telemachus	present	“He watched her pour into the measure and thence into the jug rich white milk, not hers. Old shrunken paps. She poured again a measureful and a tilly. Old and secret she had entered from a morning world, maybe a messenger. She praised the goodness of the milk, pouring it out.”
his strolling mort (first seen as 'A woman' of 'A woman and a man'; also 'his helpmate')	3 · Proteus	present	“With woman steps she followed: the ruffian and his strolling mort. Spoils slung at her back. Loose sand and shellgrit crusted her bare feet. About her windraw face hair trailed. Behind her lord, his helpmate, bing awast to Romeville.”
A bent hag	4 · Calypso	present	“A bent hag crossed from Cassidy’s, clutching a naggin bottle by the neck.”
the postmistress	5 · Lotus Eaters	present	“The postmistress handed him back through the grill his card with a letter. He thanked her and glanced rapidly at the typed envelope.”
'She', a pronoun only — the woman boarding the outsider before the door of the Grosvenor; Bloom's unfinished tag 'The honourable Mrs'	5 · Lotus Eaters	present	“She stood still, waiting, while the man, husband, brother, like her, searched his pockets for change.”
a small old woman (individuated out of the batch of communicants, at the altarrails)	5 · Lotus Eaters	present	“Then the next one: a small old woman. The priest bent down to put it into her mouth, murmuring all the time.”
a widow in her weeds	5 · Lotus Eaters	present	“Trams: a car of Prescott’s dyeworks: a widow in her weeds. Notice because I’m in mourning myself.”
an old woman peeping (behind a lowered blind on the avenue)	6 · Hades	present	“One dragged aside: an old woman peeping. Nose whiteflattened against the pane.”
'Leanjawed harpy, hard woman at a bargain' (mourner at the child's funeral)	6 · Hades	present	“Mourners came out through the gates: woman and a girl. Leanjawed harpy, hard woman at a bargain, her bonnet awry.”
A sugarsticky girl	8 · Lestrygonians	present	“A sugarsticky girl shovelling scoopfuls of creams for a christian brother.”
the old applewoman	8 · Lestrygonians	present	“—Two apples a penny! Two for a penny!... He halted again and bought from the old applewoman two Banbury cakes for a penny and broke the brittle paste and threw its fragments down into the Liffey.”
that woman (the passer-by who eyes Mrs Breen)	8 · Lestrygonians	present	“See the eye that woman gave her, passing. Cruel. The unfair sex.”
that woman... in the white stockings	8 · Lestrygonians	present	“Thick feet that woman has in the white stockings. Hope the rain mucks them up on her.”
That girl passing the Stewart institution	8 · Lestrygonians	present	“That girl passing the Stewart institution, head in the air. Look at me. I have them all on.”
an old woman (alighting from the tram at Annesley bridge)	10 · Wandering Rocks	present	“At Annesley bridge the tram halted and, when it was about to go, an old woman rose suddenly from her place to alight. The conductor pulled the bellstrap to stay the car for her.”
a young woman with wild nodding daisies in her hand	10 · Wandering Rocks	present	“A flushed young man came from a gap of a hedge and after him came a young woman with wild nodding daisies in her hand. The young man raised his cap abruptly: the young woman abruptly bent and with slow care detached from her light skirt a clinging twig.”
A stout lady (giving a coin to the onelegged sailor)	10 · Wandering Rocks	present	“A stout lady stopped, took a copper coin from her purse and dropped it into the cap held out to her.”
the blond girl (in Thornton's; addressed by Boylan only as 'missy')	10 · Wandering Rocks	present	“The blond girl in Thornton’s bedded the wicker basket with rustling fibre... —Yes, sir, the blond girl said. And the fruit on top.”
An elderly female, no more young (later 'an elderly female with false teeth' and 'an elderly female about to enter')	10 · Wandering Rocks	present	“An elderly female, no more young, left the building of the courts of chancery, king’s bench, exchequer and common pleas, having heard in the lord chancellor’s court the case in lunacy of Potterton”
the shopgirl (in Daly's; earlier in Bloom's planning, 'Girl there civil')	11 · Sirens	present	“—Twopence, sir, the shopgirl dared to say. —Aha... I was forgetting... Excuse... —And four.”
A frowsy whore with black straw sailor hat askew, exclaimed as 'the whore of the lane' (also a census entry, the streetwalker of the lane)	11 · Sirens	present	“A frowsy whore with black straw sailor hat askew came glazily in the day along the quay towards Mr Bloom.”
a pigmy woman (swinging on a rope, the Nighttown entrance)	15 · Circe	present	“A pigmy woman swings on a rope slung between two railings, counting.”
the crone (standing by with a smoky oillamp, the Nighttown entrance)	15 · Circe	present	“A crone standing by with a smoky oillamp rams her last bottle in the maw of his sack. He heaves his booty, tugs askew his peaked cap and hobbles off mutely. The crone makes back for her lair, swaying her lamp.”
a slut (combing a scrofulous child's hair, the Nighttown entrance)	15 · Circe	present	“In a room lit by a candle stuck in a bottleneck a slut combs out the tatts from the hair of a scrofulous child.”
a hoarse virago / THE VIRAGO	15 · Circe	present	“THE VIRAGO: Signs on you, hairy arse. More power the Cavan girl.”
the elderly bawd / THE BAWD	15 · Circe	present	“(The famished snaggletusks of an elderly bawd protrude from a doorway.) THE BAWD: (Her voice whispering huskily.) Sst! Come here till I tell you. Maidenhead inside. Sst!”
A HAG (in the crowd at the Beaver street brawl)	15 · Circe	present	“A HAG: What call had the redcoat to strike the gentleman and he under the influence. Let them go and fight the Boers!”

What was left out

Deduplication and boundary decisions. (1) Near-misses cut for overlap: Miss Dunne (ep 10) — the one other granted clerical interiority — is covered between Martha Clifford (typist economy) and the barmaids (waged flicker-inwardness); Zoe Higgins (ep 15) — house-based sex work with the most female speech in Circe — is represented by the Bella Cohen / streetwalker pair (top and bottom of the same economy); Mrs M'Guinness and Mrs M. E. White (ep 10, women pawnbrokers) yield the female-capital slot to Mrs Riordan (rentier) and Bella (proprietor); Nurse Callan (eps 13-14, 17) and the milk woman compete for waged-work-on-stage and the milk woman wins on the arithmetic scene; the applewoman (ep 8) likewise. (2) Routed to Dimension 3, not lost: Queen Victoria, Lady Dudley/the vicereine, Mary Kelly ('Constable 14A loves Mary Kelly'), and the slavey courted by plainclothes men — women who appear primarily as faces or instruments of rule. (3) Excluded as tropes, not persons (the C-02 boundary): Kathleen ni Houlihan / Granuaile / Old Gummy Granny, the sea as 'great sweet mother', the Blessed Virgin, Eve/Helen/Penelope and Deasy's catalogue — allegorical women doing political or theological work; they belong in the dimension's commentary on how the feminine is used, not in the census of women. (4) The Dedalus sisters are represented by Dilly (fullest scenes); Katey, Boody and Maggy (ep 10 kitchen) fold into her entry. Hallucinated appearances (Circe) are listed in episodes arrays but marked non-present under A3 in the underlying census.

Caveats

An inventory is a reference, not an argument. The sixteen are a selection to cover the range of income, mobility and interiority; the text holds more women.
Income, mobility and interiority are filled from the text only; where the text is silent the entry says so, and inferred facts are marked [inferred] (anchor A5).
"How she enters" distinguishes on-stage presence from letter, photograph, body part, or men's talk — the mode a woman is granted is the dimension's real subject.
Episode titles are schema scaffolding, not Joyce's (anchor A2). Hours are approximate.
The held transcription marks italics with underscores (_…_); inside the quotation cells those markers are set as the italics they mean. Rendering a marker as what it means is not editing what it marks (A19); the words are untouched. Set 5 August 2026 by the closing audit, following the practice the passages layer already used — and recorded here because the same audit's record claimed each converted artifact declared it, which was true of two of the three until this line existed.
Every quote was adversarially verified against the 1922 text; corrections from that pass are recorded below.
Nine corrections were made across the two dimensions after adversarial verification (four of the eleven trace groups had their verification interrupted by a service limit and were re-verified separately).
Four quotes carried paraphrase or misquote inside quotation marks and were corrected against the episode files; one long quote (Milly's, in Penelope) had joined two verbatim fragments in reversed textual order and was restored to the book's actual sequence.
Two appearances mislabelled memory were corrected to present-scene under anchor A3; one asserted a death date the text never gives (Mrs Riordan) and one claimed a woman is literally voiceless (the streetwalker, whose words survive in Bloom's memory) — both reframed to what the text supports (anchor A5).
Only the named fields were touched; every correction was checked against the 1922 episode text before writing.

SOURCE — the 1922 text of Ulysses (public domain; Project Gutenberg #4300); hours from base document 03. Sourced and inferred are kept apart (A5); the three states are held strictly distinct (A3).