"Conk a dook he'll doo."

(595.30-597.23)  It's time for HCE to wake ("Conk a dook he'll doo," the rooster says), but he's still asleep.  "So let him slap, the sap!" taunts the rooster, which is here also called "the friarbird."  "Till they take down his shatter from his shap."

A number of names are given for HCE, the "child, a natural child."  Here's some of the ones I particularly like:

• "behold, he returns"
• "fincarnate"
• "sire of leery subs of dub"
• "without links, without impediments, with gygantogyres, with freeflawforms"
• "sure, straight, slim, sturdy, serene, synthetical, swift"

Like HCE, we've also been dozing as we read Joyce's dream book:  "You mean to see we have been hadding a sound night's sleep?  You may so."  But the book, like the sleeping HCE, is "just about to rolywholyover" (when the final sentence of the book leads directly into its opening sentence).  There are two sides to everything, the narrator says.  These include "the yest and the ist" (the west and the east, yesterday and today), "the wright side and the wronged side," and "feeling aslip and wauking up."  We all embrace these dichotomies, and everyone, from HCE to us, has to "doze."

Today's passage, which is still very close to the beginning of the chapter, seems to be setting things up.  Perhaps we'll begin to see what exactly is being set up when we tackle tomorrow's reading.