Finnegans_Wake.pdf

Finnegan's Wake - Episode 1: Part 1

riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by

a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.

Sir Tristram, violer d'amores, fr'over the short sea, had passencore rearrived

from North Armorica on this side the scraggy isthmus of Europe Minor to

wielderﬁght his penisolate war: nor had topsawyer's rocks by the stream Oconee

exaggerated themselse to Laurens County's gorgios while they went doublin their

mumper all the time: nor avoice from aﬁre bellowsed mishe mishe to tauftauf

thuartpeatrick not yet, though venissoon after, had a kidscad buttended a bland

old isaac: not yet, though all's fair in vanessy, were sosie sesthers wroth with

twone nathandjoe. Rot a peck of pa's malt had Jhem or Shen brewed by arclight

and rory end to the regginbrow was to be seen ringsome on the aquaface.

The fall

(bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonnerronntuonnthunntrovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthurnuk!)

of a once wallstrait oldparr is retaled early in bed and later on life down

through all christian minstrelsy. The great fall of the offwall entailed at such

short notice the pftjschute of Finnegan, erse solid man, that the humptyhillhead

of humself prumptly sends an unquiring one well to the west in quest of his

tumptytumtoes: and their upturnpikepointandplace is at the knock out in the park

where oranges have been laid to rust upon the green since devlinsﬁrst loved

livvy.

What clashes here of wills gen wonts, oystrygods gaggin ﬁshygods! Brekkek

Kekkek Kekkek Kekkek! Koax Koax Koax! Ualu Ualu Ualu! Quaouauh! Where the

Baddelaries partisans are still out to mathmaster Malachus Micgranes and the

Verdons catapelting the camibalistics out of the Whoyteboyce of Hoodie Head.

Assiegates and boomeringstroms. Sod's brood, be me fear! Sanglorians, save! Arms

apeal with larms, appalling. Killykillkilly: a toll, a toll. What chance

cuddleys, what cashels aired and ventilated! What bidimetoloves sinduced by what

tegotetabsolvers! What true feeling for their's hayair with what strawng voice

of false jiccup! O here here how hoth sprowled met the duskt the father of

fornicationists but, (O my shining stars and body!) how hath fanespanned most

high heaven the skysign of soft advertisement! But was iz? Iseut? Ere were

sewers? The oaks of ald now they lie in peat yet elms leap where askes lay.

Phall if you but will, rise you must: and none so soon either shall the pharce

for the nunce come to a setdown secular phoenish.

Bygmester Finnegan, of the Stuttering Hand, freemen's maurer, lived in the

broadest way immarginable in his rushlit toofarback for messuages before joshuan

judges had given us numbers or Helviticus committed deuteronomy (one yeastyday

he sternely struxk his tete in a tub for to watsch the future of his fates but

ere he swiftly stook it out again, by the might of moses, the very water was

eviparated and all the guenneses had met their exodus so that ought to show you

what a pentschanjeuchy chap he was!) and during mighty odd years this man of

hod, cement and ediﬁces in Toper's Thorp piled buildung supra buildung pon the

banks for the livers by the Soangso. He addle liddle phiﬁe Annie ugged the

little craythur. Wither hayre in honds tuck up your part inher. Oftwhile

balbulous, mithre ahead, with goodly trowel in grasp and ivoroiled overalls

which he habitacularly fondseed, like Haroun Childeric Eggeberth he would

caligulate by multiplicables the alltitude and malltitude until he seesaw by

neatlight of the liquor wheretwin 'twas born, his roundhead staple of other days

to rise in undress maisonry upstanded (joygrantit!), a waalworth of a skyerscape

of most eyeful hoyth entowerly, erigenating from next to nothing and

celescalating the himals and all, hierarchitectitiptitoploftical, with a burning

bush abob off its baubletop and with larrons o'toolers clittering up and tombles

a'buckets clottering down.

Of the ﬁrst was he to bare arms and a name: Wassaily Booslaeugh of

Riesengeborg. His crest of huroldry, in vert with ancillars, troublant, argent,

a hegoak, poursuivant, horrid, horned. His scutschum fessed, with archers

strung, helio, of the second. Hootch is for husbandman handling his hoe.

Hohohoho, Mister Finn, you're going to be Mister Finnagain! Comeday morm and, O,

you're vine! Sendday's eve and, ah, you're vinegar! Hahahaha, Mister Funn,

you're going to be ﬁned again!

What then agentlike brought about that tragoady thundersday this municipal sin

business? Our cubehouse still rocks as earwitness to the thunder of his arafatas

but we hear also through successive ages that shebby choruysh of unkaliﬁed

muzzlenimiissilehims that would blackguardise the whitestone ever hurtleturtled

out of heaven. Stay us wherefore in our search for tighteousness, O Sustainer,

what time we rise and when we take up to toothmick and before we lump down upown

our leatherbed and in the night and at the fading of the stars ! For a nod to

the nabir is better than wink to the wabsanti. Otherways wesways like that

provost scofﬁng bedoueen the jebel and the jpysian sea. Cropherb the

crunchbracken shall decide. Then we'll know if the feast is a ﬂyday. She has a

gift of seek on site and she allcasually ansars helpers, the dreamydeary. Heed!

Heed ! It may half been a missﬁred brick, as some say, or it mought have been

due to a collupsus of his back promises, as others looked at it. (There extand

by now one thousand and one stories, all told, of the same). But so sore did abe

ite ivvy's holired abbles, (what with the wallhall's horrors of rollsrights,

carhacks, stonengens, kisstvanes, tramtrees, fargobawlers, autokinotons,

hippohobbilies, streetﬂeets, tournintaxes, megaphoggs, circuses and wardsmoats

and basilikerks and aeropagods and the hoyse and the jollybrool and the peeler

in the coat and the mecklenburk bitch bite at his ear and the merlinburrow

burrocks and his fore old porecourts, the bore the more, and his blightblack

workingstacks at twelvepins a dozen and the noobibusses sleighding along

Safetyﬁrst Street and the derryjellybies snooping around Tell-No-Tailors'

Corner and the fumes and the hopes and the strupithump of his ville's indigenous

romekeepers, homesweepers, domecreepers, thurum and thurum in fancymud murumd

and all the uproor from all the aufroofs, a roof for may and a reef for hugh

butt under his bridge suits tony) wan warning Phill ﬁlt tippling full. His howd

feeled heavy, his hoddit did shake. (There was a wall of course in erection)

Dimb! He stottered from the latter. Damb! he was dud. Dumb! Mastabatoom,

mastabadtomm, when a mon merries his lute is all long. For whole the world to

see.

Shize? I should shee! Macool, Macool, orra whyi deed ye diie? of a trying

thirstay mournin? Sobs they sighdid at Fillagain's chrissormiss wake, all the

hoolivans of the nation, prostrated in their consternation and their

duodisimally profusive plethora of ululation. There was plumbs and grumes and

cheriffs and citherers and raiders and cinemen too. And the all gianed in with

the shoutmost shoviality. Agog and magog and the round of them agrog. To the

continuation of that celebration until Hanandhunigan's extermination! Some in

kinkin corass, more, kankan keening. Belling him up and ﬁlling him down. He's

stiff but he's steady is Priam Olim ! 'Twas he was the dacent gaylabouring

youth. Sharpen his pillowscone, tap up his bier! E'erawhere in this whorl would

ye hear sich a din again? With their deepbrow fundigs and the dusty ﬁdelios.

They laid him brawdawn alanglast bed. With a bockalips of ﬁnisky fore his feet.

And a barrowload of guenesis hoer his head. Tee the tootal of the ﬂuid hang the

twoddle of the fuddled, O !

Hurrah, there is but young gleve for the owl globe wheels in view which is

tautaulogically the same thing. Well, Him a being so on the ﬂounder of his bulk

like an overgrown babeling, let wee peep, see, at Hom, well, see peegee ought he

ought, platterplate. Hum ! From Shopalist to Bailywick or from ashtun to

baronoath or from Buythebanks to Roundthehead or from the foot of the bill to

ireglint's eye he calmly extensolies. And all the way (a horn!) from ﬁord to

fjell his baywinds' oboboes shall wail him rockbound (hoahoahoah!) in

swimswamswum and all the livvylong night, the delldale dalppling night, the

night of bluerybells, her ﬂittaﬂute in tricky trochees (O carina! O carina!)

wake him. With her issavan essavans and her patterjackmartins about all them

inns and ouses. Tilling a teel of a tum, telling a toll of a teary turty

Taubling. Grace before Glutton. For what we are, gifs a gross if we are, about

to believe. So pool the begg and pass the kish for crawsake. Omen. So sigh us.

Grampupus is fallen down but grinny sprids the boord. Whase on the joint of a

desh? Finfoefom the Fush. Whase be his baken head? A loaf of Singpantry's

Kennedy bread. And whase hitched to the hop in his tayle? A glass of Danu

U'Dunnell's foamous olde Dobbelin ayle. But, lo, as you would quaffoff his

fraudstuff and sink teeth through that pyth of a ﬂowerwhite bodey behold of him

as behemoth for he is noewhemoe. Finiche! Only a fadograph of a yestern scene.

Almost rubicund Salmosalar, ancient fromout the ages of the Agapemonides, he is

smolten in our mist, woebecanned and packt away. So that meal's dead off for

summan, schlook, schlice and goodridhirring.

Yet may we not see still the brontoichthyan form outlined aslumbered, even in

our own nighttime by the sedge of the troutling stream that Bronto loved and

Brunto has a lean on. Hic cubat edilis. Apud libertinam parvulam. Whatif she be

in ﬂags or ﬂitters, reekierags or sundyechosies, with a mint of mines or

beggar a pinnyweight. Arrah, sure, we all love little Anny Ruiny, or, we mean to

say, lovelittle Anna Rayiny, when unda her brella, mid piddle med puddle, she

ninnygoes nannygoes nancing by. Yoh! Brontolone slaaps, yoh snoores. Upon Benn

Heather, in Seeple Isout too. The cranic head on him, caster of his reasons,

peer yuthner in yondmist. Whooth? His clay feet, swarded in verdigrass, stick up

starck where he last fellonem, by the mund of the magazine wall, where our maggy

seen all, with her sisterin shawl. While over against this belles' alliance

beyind Ill Sixty, ollollowed ill! bagsides of the fort, bom, tarabom, tarabom,

lurk the ombushes, the site of the lyfﬁng-in-wait of the upjock and hockums.

Hence when the clouds roll by, jamey, a proudseye view is enjoyable of our

mounding's mass, now Wallinstone national museum, with, in some greenish

distance, the charmful waterloose country and the two quitewhite villagettes who

hear show of themselves so gigglesomes minxt the follyages, the prettilees!

Penetrators are permitted into the museomound free. Welsh and the Paddy

Patkinses, one shelenk! Redismembers invalids of old guard ﬁnd poussepousse

pousseypram to sate the sort of their butt. For her passkey supply to the

janitrix, the mistress Kathe. Tip.

This the way to the museyroom. Mind your hats goan in! Now yiz are in the

Willingdone Museyroom. This is a Prooshious gunn. This is a ffrinch. Tip. This

is the ﬂag of the Prooshious, the Cap and Soracer. This is the bullet that byng

the ﬂag of the Prooshious. This is the ffrinch that ﬁre on the Bull that bang

the ﬂag of the Prooshious. Saloos the Crossgunn! Up with your pike and fork!

Tip. (Bullsfoot! Fine!) This is the triplewon hat of Lipoleum. Tip. Lipoleumhat.

This is the Willingdone on his same white harse, the Cokenhape. This is the big

Sraughter Willingdone, grand and magentic in his goldtin spurs and his ironed

dux and his quarterbrass woodyshoes and his magnate's gharters and his bangkok's

best and goliar's goloshes and his pulluponeasyan wartrews. This is his big wide

harse. Tip. This is the three lipoleum boyne grouching down in the living detch.

This is an inimyskilling inglis, this is a scotcher grey, this is a davy,

stooping. This is the bog lipoleum mordering the lipoleum beg. A Gallawghurs

argaumunt. This is the petty lipoleum boy that was nayther bag nor bug. Assaye,

assaye! Touchole Fitz Tuomush. Dirty MacDyke. And Hairy O'Hurry. All of them

arminus-varminus. This is Delian alps. This is Mont Tivel, this is Mont Tipsey,

this is the Grand Mons Injun. This is the crimealine of the alps hooping to

sheltershock the three lipoleums. This is the jinnies with their legahorns

feinting to read in their handmade's book of stralegy while making their war

undisides the Willingdone. The jinnies is a cooin her hand and the jinnies is a

ravin her hair and the Willingdone git the band up. This is big Willingdone

mormorial tallowscoop Wounderworker obscides on the ﬂanks of the jinnies.

Sexcaliber hrosspower. Tip. This is me Belchum sneaking his phillippy out of his

most Awful Grimmest Sunshat Cromwelly. Looted. This is the jinnies' hastings

dispatch for to irrigate the Willingdone. Dispatch in thin red lines cross the

shortfront of me Belchum. Yaw, yaw, yaw! Leaper Orthor. Fear siecken! Fieldgaze

thy tiny frow. Hugacting. Nap. That was the tictacs of the jinnies for to

fontannoy the Willingdone. Shee, shee, shee! The jinnies is jillous agincourting

all the lipoleums. And the lipoleums is gonn boycottoncrezy onto the one

Willingdone. And the Willingdone git the band up. This is bode Belchum, bonnet

to busby, breaking his secred word with a ball up his ear to the Willingdone.

This is the Willingdone's hurold dispitchback. Dispitch desployed on the regions

rare of me Belchum. Salamangra! Ayi, ayi, ayi! Cherry jinnies. Figtreeyou! Damn

fairy ann, Voutre. Willingdone. That was the ﬁrst joke of Willingdone, tic for

tac. Hee, hee, hee! This is me Belchum in his twelvemile cowchooks, weet, tweet

and stampforth foremost, footing the camp for the jinnies. Drink a sip,

drankasup, for he's as sooner buy a guinness than he'd stale store stout. This

is Rooshious balls. This is a ttrinch. This is mistletropes. This is Canon

Futter with the popynose. After his hundred days' indulgence. This is the

blessed. Tarra's widdars! This is jinnies in the bonny bawn blooches. This is

lipoleums in the rowdy howses. This is the Willingdone, by the splinters of

Cork, order ﬁre. Tonnerre! (Bullsear! Play!) This is camelry, this is ﬂoodens,

this is the solphereens in action, this is their mobbily, this is panickburns.

Almeidagad! Arthiz too loose! This is Willingdone cry. Brum! Brum! Cumbrum! This

is jinnies cry. Underwetter! Goat strip Finnlambs! This is jinnies rinning away

to their ousterlists dowan a bunkersheels. With a nip nippy nip and a trip

trippy trip so airy. For their heart's right there. Tip. This is me Belchum's

tinkyou tankyou silvoor plate for citchin the crapes in the cool of his

canister. Poor the pay! This is the bissmark of the marathon merry of the

jinnies they left behind them. This is the Willingdone branlish his same

marmorial tallowscoop SophyKey-Po for his royal divorsion on the rinnaway

jinnies. Gambariste della porca! Dalaveras ﬁmmieras! This is the pettiest of

the lipoleums, Toffeethief, that spy on the Willingdone from his big white

harse, the Capeinhope. Stonewall Willingdone is an old maxy montrumeny.

Lipoleums is nice hung bushellors. This is hiena hinnessy laughing alout at the

Willingdone. This is lipsyg dooley krieging the funk from the hinnessy. This is

the hinndoo Shimar Shin between the dooley boy and the hinnessy. Tip. This is

the wixy old Willingdone picket up the half of the threefoiled hat of lipoleums

fromoud of the bluddle ﬁlth. This is the hinndoo waxing ranjymad for a

bombshoob. This is the Willingdone hanking the half of the hat of lipoleums up

the tail on the buckside of his big white harse. Tip. That was the last joke of

Willingdone. Hit, hit, hit! This is the same white harse of the Willingdone,

Culpenhelp, waggling his tailoscrupp with the half of a hat of lipoleums to

insoult on the hinndoo seeboy. Hney, hney, hney! (Bullsrag! Foul!) This is the

seeboy, madrashattaras, upjump and pumpim, cry to the Willingdone: Ap Pukkaru!

Pukka Yurap! This is the Willingdone, bornstable ghentleman, tinders his

maxbotch to the cursigan Shimar Shin. Basucker youstead! This is the dooforhim

seeboy blow the whole of the half of the hat of lipoleums off of the top of the

tail on the back of his big wide harse. Tip (Bullseye! Game!) How Copenhagen

ended. This way the museyroom. Mind your boots goan out.

Phew!

What a warm time we were in there but how keling is here the airabouts! We

nowhere she lives but you mussna tell annaone for the lamp of Jig-a-Lanthern!

It's a candlelittle houthse of a month and one windies. Downadown, High

Downadown. And nummered quaintlymine. And such reasonable weather too ! The

wagrant wind's awalt'zaround the piltdowns and on every blasted knollyrock (if

you can spot ﬁfty I spy four more) there's that gnarlybird ygathering, a

runalittle, doalittle, preealittle, pouralittle, wipealittle,

kicksalittle,severalittle,eatalittle,whinealittle,kenalittle,

helfalittle,pelfalittle gnarlybird. A verytableland of bleakbardﬁelds! Under

his seven wrothschields lies one, Lumproar. His glav toside him. Skud ontorsed.

Our pigeons pair are ﬂewn for northcliffs. The three of crows have ﬂapped it

southenly, kraaking of de baccle to the kvarters of that sky whence triboos

answer; Wail, 'tis well! She niver comes out when Thon's on shower or when

Thon's ﬂash with his Nixy girls or when Thon's blowing toomcracks down the

gaels of Thon. No nubo no! Neblas on you liv! Her would be too moochy afreet. Of

Burymeleg and Bindmerollingeyes and all the deed in the woe. Fe fo fom! She jist

does hopes till byes will be byes. Here, and it goes on to appear now, she

comes, a peacefugle, a parody's bird, a peri potmother, a pringlpik in the

ilandiskippy, with peewee and powwows in beggybaggy on her bickybacky and a

ﬂick ﬂask ﬂeckﬂinging its pixylighting pacts' huemeramybows, picking here,

pecking there, pussypussy plunderpussy. But it's the armitides toonigh,

militopucos, and toomourn we wish for a muddy kissmans to the minutia workers

and there's to be a gorgeups truce for happinest childher everwere. Come nebo me

and suso sing the day we sallybright. She's burrowed the coacher's headlight the

better to pry (who goes cute goes siocur and shoos aroun) and all spoiled goods

go into her nabsack: curtrages and rattlin buttins, nappy spattees and ﬂasks of

all nations, clavicures and scampulars, maps, keys and woodpiles of haypennies

and moonled brooches with bloodstaned breeks in em, boaston nightgarters and

masses of shoesets and nickelly nacks and foder allmicheal and a lugly parson of

cates and howitzer muchears and midgers and maggets, ills and ells with loffs of

toffs and pleures of bells and the last sigh that come fro the hart (bucklied!)

and the fairest sin the sunsaw (that's cearc!). With Kiss. Kiss Criss. Cross

Criss. Kiss Cross. Undo lives 'end. Slain.

How bootifull and how truetowife of her, when strengly forebidden, to steal our

historic presents from the past postpropheticals so as to will make us all lordy

heirs and ladymaidesses of a pretty nice kettle of fruit. She is livving in our

midst of debt and lafﬁng through all plores for us (her birth is

uncontrollable), with a naperon for her mask and her sabboes kickin arias (so

sair! so solly!) if yous ask me and I saack you. Hou! Hou! Gricks may rise and

Troysirs fall (there being two sights for ever a picture) for in the byways of

high improvidence that's what makes lifework leaving and the world's a cell for

citters to cit in. Let young wimman run away with the story and let young min

talk smooth behind the butteler's back. She knows her knight's duty while Luntum

sleeps. Did ye save any tin? says he. Did I what? with a grin says she. And we

all like a marriedann because she is mercenary. Though the length of the land

lies under liquidation (ﬂoote!) and there's nare a hairbrow nor an eyebush on

this glaubrous phace of Herrschuft Whatarwelter she'll loan a vesta and hire

some peat and sarch the shores her cockles to heat and she'll do all a turfwoman

can to piff the business on. Paff. To puff the blaziness on. Poffpoff. And even

if Humpty shell fall frumpty times as awkward again in the beardsboosoloom of

all our grand remonstrancers there'll be iggs for the brekkers come to mournhim,

sunny side up with care. So true is it that therewhere's a turnover the tay is

wet too and when you think you ketch sight of a hind make sure but you're cocked

by a hin.

Then as she is on her behaviourite job of quainance bandy, fruting for

ﬁrstlings and taking her tithe, we may take our review of the two mounds to see

nothing of the himples here as at elsewhere, by sixes and sevens, like so many

heegills and collines, sitton aroont, scentbreeched ant somepotreek, in their

swishawish satins and their taffetaffe tights, playing Wharton's Folly, at a

treepurty on the planko in the purk. Stand up, mickos! Make strake for minnas !

By order, Nicholas Proud. We may see and hear nothing if we choose of the

shortlegged bergins off Corkhill or the bergamoors of Arbourhill or the

bergagambols of Summerhill or the bergincellies of Miseryhill or the

countrybossed bergones of Constitutionhill though every crowd has its several

tones and every trade has its clever mechanics and each harmonical has a point

of its own, Olaf's on the rise and Ivor's on the lift and Sitric's place's

between them. But all they are all there scraping along to sneeze out a

likelihood that will solve and salve life's robulous rebus, hopping round his

middle like kippers on a griddle, O, as he lays dormont from the macroborg of

Holdhard to the microbirg of Pied de Poudre. Behove this sound of Irish sense.

Really? Here English might be seen. Royally? One sovereign punned to petery

pence. Regally? The silence speaks the scene. Fake!

So This Is Dyoublong?

Hush! Caution ! Echoland !

How charmingly exquisite! It reminds you of the outwashed engravure that we used

to be blurring on the blotchwall of his innkempt house. Used they? (I am sure

that tiring chabelshoveller with the mujikal chocolat box, Miry Mitchel, is

listening) I say, the remains of the outworn gravemure where used to be blurried

the Ptollmens of the Incabus. Used we? (He is only pretendant to be stugging at

the jubalee harp from a second existed lishener, Fiery Farrelly.) It is well

known. Lokk for himself and see the old butte new. Dbln. W. K. O. O. Hear? By

the mausolime wall. Fimﬁm ﬁmﬁm. With a grand funferall. Fumfum fumfum. 'Tis

optophone which ontophanes. List! Wheatstone's magic lyer. They will be tuggling

foriver. They will be lichening for allof. They will be pretumbling forover. The

harpsdischord shall be theirs for ollaves.

Four things therefore, saith our herodotary Mammon Lujius in his grand old

historiorum, wrote near Boriorum, bluest book in baile's annals, f t. in

Dyfﬁnarsky ne'er sall fail til heathersmoke and cloudweed Eire's ile sall pall.

And here now they are,the fear of um. T. Totities! Unum. (Adar.) A bulbenboss

surmounted upon an alderman. Ay, ay! Duum. (Nizam.) A shoe on a puir old wobban.

Ah, ho! Triom. (Tamuz.) An auburn mayde, o'brine a'bride, to be desarted. Adear,

adear! Quodlibus. (Marchessvan.) A penn no weightier nor a polepost. And so. And

all. (Succoth.)

So, how idlers' wind turning pages on pages, as innocens with anaclete play

popeye antipop, the leaves of the living in the boke of the deeds, annals of

themselves timing the cycles of events grand and national, bring fassilwise to

pass how.

II32 A.D. Men like to ants or emmets wondern upon a groot hwide Whallﬁsk which

lay in a Runnel. Blubby wares upat Ublanium.

566 A.D. On Baalﬁre's night of this year after deluge a crone that hadde a

wickered Kish for to hale dead tunes from the bog lookit under the blay of her

Kish as she ran for to sothisfeige her cowrieosity and be me sawl but she found

hersell sackvulle of swart goody quickenshoon ant small illigant brogues, so

rich in sweat. Blurry works at Hurdlesford.

(Silent.)

566 A.D. At this time it fell out that a brazenlockt damsel grieved

(sobralasolas!) because that Puppette her minion was ravisht-of her by the ogre

Puropeus Pious. Bloody wars in Ballyaughacleeaghbally.

II32. A.D. Two sons at an hour were born until a goodman and his hag. These sons

called themselves Caddy and Primas. Primas was a santryman and drilled all

decent people. Caddy went to Winehouse and wrote o peace a farce. Blotty words

for Dublin.

Somewhere, parently, in the ginnandgo gap between antediluvious and annadominant

the copyist must have ﬂed with his scroll. The billy ﬂood rose or an elk

charged him or the sultrup worldwright from the excelsissimost empyrean (bolt,

in sum) earthspake or the Dannamen gallous banged pan the bliddy duran. A

scribicide then and there is led off under old's code with some ﬁne covered by

six marks or ninepins in metalmen for the sake of his labour's dross while it

will be only now and again in our rear of o'er era, as an upshoot of military

and civil engagements, that a gynecure was let on to the scuffold for taking

that same ﬁne sum covertly by meddlement with the drawers of his neighbour's

safe.

Now after all that farfatch'd and peragrine or dingnant or clere lift we our

ears, eyes of the darkness, from the tome of Liber Lividus and, (toh!), how

paisibly eirenical, all dimmering dunes and gloamering glades, selfstretches

afore us our fredeland's plain! Lean neath stone pine the pastor lies with his

crook; young pricket by pricket's sister nibbleth on returned viridities; amaid

her rocking grasses the herb trinity shams lowliness; skyup is of evergrey.

Thus, too, for donkey's years. Since the bouts of Hebear and Hairyman the

cornﬂowers have been staying at Ballymun, the duskrose has choosed out

Goatstown's hedges, twolips have pressed togatherthem by sweet Rush, townland of

twinedlights, the whitethorn and the redthorn have fairygeyed the mayvalleys of

Knockmaroon, and, though for rings round them, during a chiliad of

perihelygangs, the Formoreans have brittled the tooath of the Danes and the

Oxman has been pestered by the Firebugs and the Joynts have thrown up

jerrybuilding to the Kevanses and Little on the Green is childsfather to the

City (Year! Year! And laughtears!), these paxsealing buttonholes have quadrilled

across the centuries and whiff now whafft to us, fresh and made-of-all-smiles

as, on the eve of Killallwho.

The babbelers with their thangas vain have been (confusium hold them!) they were

and went; thigging thugs were and houhnhymn songtoms were and comely norgels

were and pollyfool ﬁansees. Menn have thawed, clerks have surssurhummed, the

blond has sought of the brune: Elsekiss thou may, mean Kerry piggy?: and the

duncledames have countered with the hellish fellows: Who ails tongue coddeau,

aspace of dumbillsilly? And they fell upong one another: and themselves they

have fallen. And still nowanights and by nights of yore do all bold ﬂoras of

the ﬁeld to their shyfaun lovers say only: Cull me ere I wilt to thee!: and,

but a little later: Pluck me whilst I blush! Well may they wilt, marry, and

profusedly blush, be troth! For that saying is as old as the howitts. Lave a

whale a while in a whillbarrow (isn't it the truath I'm tallin ye?) to have ﬁns

and ﬂippers that shimmy and shake. Tim Timmycan timped hir, tampting Tam.

Fleppety! Flippety! Fleapow!

Hop!

In the name of Anem this carl on the kopje in pelted thongs a parth a lone who

the joebiggar be he? Forshapen his pigmaid hoagshead, shroonk his plodsfoot. He

hath locktoes, this shortshins, and, Obeold that's pectoral, his mammamuscles

most mousterious. It is slaking nuncheon out of some thing's brain pan. Me

seemeth a dragon man. He is almonthst on the kiep ﬁef by here, is Comestipple

Sacksoun, be it junipery or febrewery, marracks or alebrill or the ramping riots

of pouriose and

froriose. What a quhare soort of a mahan. It is evident the michindaddy. Lets we

overstep his ﬁre defences and these kraals of slitsucked marrogbones. (Cave!)

He can prapsposterus the pillory way to Hirculos pillar. Come on, fool

porterfull, hosiered women blown monk sewer? Scuse us, chorley guy! You

tollerday donsk? N. You tolkatiff scowegian? Nn. You spigotty anglease? Nnn. You

phonio saxo? Nnnn. Clear all so! 'Tis a Jute. Let us swop hats and excheck a few

strong verbs weak oach eather yapyazzard abast the blooty creeks.

Jute.-- Yutah!

Mutt.-- Mukk's pleasurad.

Jute.-- Are you jeff?

Mutt.-- Somehards.

Jute.-- But you are not jeffmute?

Mutt.-- Noho. Only an utterer.

Jute.-- Whoa? Whoat is the mutter with you?

Mutt.-- I became a stun a stummer.

Jute.-- What a hauhauhauhaudibble thing, to be cause! How, Mutt?

Mutt.-- Aput the buttle, surd.

Jute.-- Whose poddle? Wherein?

Mutt.-- The Inns of Dungtarf where Used awe to be he.

Jute.-- You that side your voise are almost inedible to me.

Become a bitskin more wiseable, as if I were you.

Mutt.-- Has? Has at? Hasatency? Urp, Boohooru! Booru

Usurp! I trumple from rath in mine mines when I rimimirim !

Jute.-- One eyegonblack. Bisons is bisons. Let me fore all

your hasitancy cross your qualm with trink gilt. Here

have sylvan coyne, a piece of oak. Ghinees hies good for you.

Mutt.-- Louee, louee! How wooden I not know it, the intellible

greytcloak of Cedric Silkyshag! Cead mealy

faulty rices for one dabblin bar. Old grilsy growlsy!

He was poached on in that eggtentical spot. Here

where the liveries, Monomark. There where the

missers moony, Minnikin passe.

Jute.-- Simply because as Taciturn pretells, our wrongstory

shortener, he dumptied the wholeborrow of rubbages on to soil here.

Mutt.-- Just how a puddinstone inat the brookcells by a riverpool.

Jute.-- Load Allmarshy! Wid wad for a norse like?

Mutt.-- Somular with a bull on a clompturf. Rooks roarum

rex roome! I could snore to him of the spumy horn,

with his woolseley side in, by the neck I am sutton

on, did Brian d' of Linn.

Jute.-- Boildoyle and rawhoney on me when I can beuraly

forsstand a weird from sturk to ﬁnnic in such a pat

what as your rutterdamrotter. Onheard of and

umscene! Gut aftermeal! See you doomed.

Mutt.-- Quite agreem. Bussave a sec. Walk a dun blink

roundward this albutisle and you skull see how olde

ye plaine of my Elters, hunfree and ours, where wone

to wail whimbrel to peewee o'er the saltings, where

wilby citie by law of isthmon, where by a droit of

signory, iceﬂoe was from his Inn the Byggning to

whose Finishthere Punct. Let erehim ruhmuhrmuhr.

Mearmerge two races, swete and brack. Morthering

rue. Hither, craching eastuards, they are in surgence:

hence, cool at ebb, they requiesce. Countlessness of

livestories have netherfallen by this plage, ﬂick as

ﬂowﬂakes, litters from aloft, like a waast wizzard all of

whirlworlds. Now are all tombed to the mound, isges

to isges, erde from erde. Pride, O pride, thy prize!

Jute.-- 'Stench!

Mutt.-- Fiatfuit! Hereinunder lyethey. Llarge by the smal an'

everynight life olso th'estrange, babylone the great

grandhotelled with tit tit tittlehouse, alp on earwig,

drukn on ild, likeas equal to anequal in this sound

seemetery which iz leebez luv.

Jute.-- 'Zmorde!

Mutt.-- Meldundleize! By the fearse wave behoughted.

Despond's sung. And thanacestross mound have swollup

them all. This ourth of years is not save brickdust

and being humus the same roturns. He who runes

may rede it on all fours. O'c'stle, n'wc'stle, tr'c'stle,

crumbling! Sell me sooth the fare for Humblin!

Hum blady Fair. But speak it allsosiftly, moulder! Be in

your whisht!

Jute.-- Whysht?

Mutt.-- The gyant Forﬁcules with Amni the fay.

Jute.-- Howe?

Mutt.-- Here is viceking's graab.

Jute.-- Hwaad !

Mutt.-- Ore you astoneaged, jute you?

Jute.-- Oye am thonthorstrok, thing mud.

(Stoop) if you are abcedminded, to this claybook, what curios of signs (please

stoop), in this allaphbed! Can you rede (since We and Thou had it out already)

its world? It is the same told of all. Many. Miscegenations on miscegenations.

Tieckle. They lived und laughed ant loved end left. Forsin. Thy thingdome is

given to the Meades and Porsons. The meandertale, aloss and again, of our old

Heidenburgh in the days when Head-in-Clouds walked the earth. In the ignorance

that implies impression that knits knowledge that ﬁnds the nameform that whets

the wits that convey contacts that sweeten sensation that drives desire that

adheres to attachment that dogs death that bitches birth that entails the

ensuance of existentiality. But with a rush out of his navel reaching the

reredos of Ramasbatham. A terricolous vivelyonview this; queer and it continues

to be quaky. A hatch, a celt, an earshare the pourquose of which was to cassay

the earthcrust at all of hours, furrowards, bagawards, like yoxen at the

turnpaht. Here say ﬁgurines billycoose arming and mounting. Mounting and arming

bellicose ﬁgurines see here. Futhorc, this lifﬂe efﬁngee is for a ﬁreﬁng

called a ﬂintforfall. Face at the eased! O I fay! Face at the waist! Ho, you

ﬁe! Upwap and dump em, Face to Face! When a part so ptee does duty for the

holos we soon grow to use of an allforabit. Here (please to stoop) are selveran

cued peteet peas of quite a pecuniar interest inaslittle as they are the pellets

that make the tomtummy's pay roll. Right rank ragnar rocks and with these rox

orangotangos rangled rough and rightgorong. Wisha, wisha, whydidtha? Thik is for

thorn that's thuck in its thoil like thumfool's thraitor thrust for vengeance.

What a mnice old mness it all mnakes! A middenhide hoard of objects! Olives,

beets, kimmells, dollies, alfrids, beatties, cormacks and daltons. Owlets' eegs

(O stoop to please!) are here, creakish from age and all now quite epsilene, and

oldwolldy wobblewers, haudworth a wipe o grass. Sss! See the snake wurrums

everyside! Our durlbin is sworming in sneaks. They came to our island from

triangular Toucheaterre beyond the wet prairie rared up in the midst of the

cargon of prohibitive pomefructs but along landed Paddy Wippingham and the his

garbagecans cotched the creeps of them pricker than our whosethere outofman

could quick up her whatsthats. Somedivide and sumthelot but the tally turns

round the same balifuson. Racketeers and bottloggers.

Axe on thwacks on thracks, axenwise. One by one place one be three dittoh and

one before. Two nursus one make a plausible free and idim behind. Starting off

with a big boaboa and threelegged calvers and ivargraine jadesses with a message

in their mouths. And a hundreadﬁlled unleavenweight of liberorumqueue to con an

we can till allhorrors eve. What a meanderthalltale to unfurl and with what an

end in view of squattor and anntisquattor and postproneauntisquattor! To say too

us to be every tim, nick and larry of us, sons of the sod, sons, littlesons, yea

and lealittlesons, when usses not to be, every sue, siss and sally of us,

dugters of Nan! Accusative ahnsire! Damadam to inﬁnities

True there was in nillohs dieybos as yet no lumpend papeer in the waste,and

mightmountain Penn still groaned for the micies to let ﬂee. All was of

ancientry. You gave me a boot (signs on it!) and I ate the wind. I quizzed you a

quid (with for what?) and you went to the quod. But the world, mind, is, was and

will be writing its own wrunes for ever, man, on all matters that fall under the

ban of our infrarational senses fore the last milchcamel, the heartvein

throbbing between his eyebrowns, has still to moor before the tomb of his cousin

charmian where his date is tethered by the palm that's hers. But the horn, the

drinking, the day of dread are not now. A bone, a pebble, a ramskin; chip them,

chap them, cut them up allways; leave them to terracook in the muttheringpot:

and Gutenmorg with his cromagnom charter, tintingfast and great primer must once

for omniboss step rubrickredd out of the wordpress else is there no virtue more

in alcohoran. For that (the rapt one warns) is what papyr is meed of, made of,

hides and hints and misses in prints. Till ye ﬁnally (though not yet endlike)

meet with the acquaintance of Mister Typus, Mistress Tope and all the little

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