FINNEGANS WAKE

James Joyce
 
Book I

Chapter 7

169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182
183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194

195

 

      Shem is as short for Shemus as Jem is joky for Jacob. A few
toughnecks are still getatable who pretend that aboriginally he
was of respectable stemming (he was an outlex between the lines
of Ragonar Blaubarb ant Horrild Hairwire and an inlaw to Capt.
the Hon. and Rev. Mr Bbyrdwood de Trop Blogg was among
his most distant connections) but every honest to goodness man
in the land of the space of today knows that his back life will
not stand being written about in black and white. Putting truth
and untruth together a shot may be made at what this hybrid
actually was like to look at.
    Shem's bodily getup, it seems, included an adze of a skull, an
eight of a larkseye, the whoel of a nose, one numb arm up a
sleeve, fortytwo hairs off his uncrown, eighteen to his mock lip,
a trio of barbels from his megageg chin (sowman's son), the
wrong shoulder higher than the right, all ears, an artificial
tongue with a natural curl, not a foot to stand on, a handful of
thumbs, a blind stomach, a deaf heart, a loose liver, two fifths of
two buttocks, one gleetsteen avoirdupoider for him, a manroot
of all evil, a salmonkelt's thinskin, eelsblood in his cold toes, a
bladder tristended, so much so that young Master Shemmy on
his very first debouch at the very dawn of protohistory seeing
himself such and such, when playing with thistlewords in their
garden nursery, Griefotrofio, at Phig Streat 111, Shuvlin, Old
Hoeland, (would we go back there now for sounds, pillings and

sense? would we now for annas and annas? would we for full-
score eight and a liretta? for twelve blocks one bob? for four tes-
ters one groat? not for a dinar! not for jo!) dictited to of all his
little brothron and sweestureens the first riddle of the universe:
asking, when is a man not a man?: telling them take their time,
yungfries, and wait till the tide stops (for from the first his day
was a fortnight) and offering the prize of a bittersweet crab, a
little present from the past, for their copper age was yet un-
minted, to the winner. One said when the heavens are quakers,
a second said when Bohemeand lips, a third said when he, no,
when hold hard a jiffy, when he is a gnawstick and detarmined
to, the next one said when the angel of death kicks the bucket
of life, still another said when the wine's at witsends, and still
another when lovely wooman stoops to conk him, one of the
littliest said me, me, Sem, when pappa papared the harbour, one
of the wittiest said, when he yeat ye abblokooken and he zmear
hezelf zo zhooken, still one said when you are old I'm grey fall
full wi sleep, and still another when wee deader walkner, and
another when he is just only after having being semisized, an-
other when yea, he hath no mananas, and one when dose pigs
they begin now that they will flies up intil the looft. All were
wrong, so Shem himself, the doctator, took the cake, the correct
solution being
all give it up? when he is a yours till
the rending of the rocks,
Sham.
    Shem was a sham and a low sham and his lowness creeped out
first via foodstuffs. So low was he that he preferred Gibsen's tea-
time salmon tinned, as inexpensive as pleasing, to the plumpest
roeheavy lax or the friskiest parr or smolt troutlet that ever was
gaffed between Leixlip and Island Bridge and many was the time
he repeated in his botulism that no junglegrown pineapple ever
smacked like the whoppers you shook out of Ananias' cans,
Findlater and Gladstone's, Corner House, Englend. None of
your inchthick blueblooded Balaclava fried-at-belief-stakes or
juicejelly legs of the Grex's molten mutton or greasilygristly
grunters' goupons or slice upon slab of luscious goosebosom
with lump after load of plumpudding stuffing all aswim in a

swamp of bogoakgravy for that greekenhearted yude! Rosbif of
Old Zealand! he could not attouch it. See what happens when
your somatophage merman takes his fancy to our virgitarian
swan? He even ran away with hunself and became a farsoonerite,
saying he would far sooner muddle through the hash of lentils
in Europe than meddle with Irrland's split little pea. Once when
among those rebels in a state of hopelessly helpless intoxication
the piscivore strove to lift a czitround peel to either nostril, hic-
cupping, apparently impromptued by the hibat he had with his
glottal stop, that he kukkakould flowrish for ever by the smell,
as the czitr, as the kcedron, like a scedar, of the founts, on moun-
tains, with limon on, of Lebanon. O! the lowness of him was
beneath all up to that sunk to! No likedbylike firewater or first-
served firstshot or gulletburn gin or honest brewbarrett beer either.
O dear no! Instead the tragic jester sobbed himself wheywhing-
ingly sick of life on some sort of a rhubarbarous maundarin yella-
green funkleblue windigut diodying applejack squeezed from
sour grapefruice and, to hear him twixt his sedimental cupslips
when he had gulfed down mmmmuch too mmmmany gourds of
it retching off to almost as low withswillers, who always knew
notwithstanding when they had had enough and were rightly
indignant at the wretch's hospitality when they found to their
horror they could not carry another drop, it came straight from
the noble white fat, jo, openwide sat, jo, jo, her why hide that,
jo jo jo, the winevat, of the most serene magyansty az archdio-
chesse, if she is a duck, she's a douches, and when she has a
feherbour snot her fault, now is it? artstouchups, funny you're
grinning at, fancy you're in her yet, Fanny Urinia.
    Aint that swell, hey? Peamengro! Talk about lowness! Any
dog's quantity of it visibly oozed out thickly from this dirty
little blacking beetle for the very fourth snap the Tulloch-Turn-
bull girl with her coldblood kodak shotted the as yet unre-
muneranded national apostate, who was cowardly gun and camera
shy, taking what he fondly thought was a short cut to Caer Fere,
Soak Amerigas, vias the shipsteam Pridewin, after having buried
a hatchet not so long before, by the wrong goods exeunt, num-

mer desh to tren, into Patatapapaveri's, fruiterers and musical
florists, with his Ciaho, chavi! Sar shin, shillipen? she knew the
vice out of bridewell was a bad fast man by his walk on the
spot.
    [Johns is a different butcher's. Next place you are up town pay
him a visit. Or better still, come tobuy. You will enjoy cattlemen's
spring meat. Johns is now quite divorced from baking. Fattens,
kills, flays, hangs, draws, quarters and pieces. Feel his lambs! Ex!
Feel how sheap! Exex! His liver too is great value, a spatiality!
Exexex! COMMUNICATED.]
    Around that time, moravar, one generally, for luvvomony
hoped or at any rate suspected among morticians that he would
early turn out badly, develop hereditary pulmonary T.B., and
do for himself one dandy time, nay, of a pelting night blanketed
creditors, hearing a coarse song and splash off Eden Quay sighed
and rolled over, sure all was up, but, though he fell heavily and
locally into debit, not even then could such an antinomian be
true to type. He would not put fire to his cerebrum; he would
not throw himself in Liffey; he would not explaud himself with
pneumantics; he refused to saffrocake himself with a sod. With
the foreign devil's leave the fraid born fraud diddled even death.
Anzi, cabled (but shaking the worth out of his maulth: Guarda-
costa leporello? Szasas Kraicz!) from his Nearapoblican asylum
to his jonathan for a brother: Here tokay, gone tomory, we're
spluched, do something, Fireless. And had answer: Inconvenient,
David.
    You see, chaps, it will trickle out, freaksily of course, but the
tom and the shorty of it is: he was in his bardic memory low.
All the time he kept on treasuring with condign satisfaction each
and every crumb of trektalk, covetous of his neighbour's word,
and if ever, during a Munda conversazione commoted in the
nation's interest, delicate tippits were thrown out to him touch-
ing his evil courses by some wellwishers, vainly pleading by
scriptural arguments with the opprobrious papist about trying
to brace up for the kidos of the thing, Scally wag, and be a men
instead of a dem scrounger, dish it all, such as: Pray, what is

the meaning, sousy, of that continental expression, if you ever
came acrux it, we think it is a word transpiciously like canaille?:
or: Did you anywhere, kennel, on your gullible's travels or
during your rural troubadouring, happen to stumble upon a
certain gay young nobleman whimpering to the name of Low
Swine who always addresses women out of the one corner of
his mouth, lives on loans and is furtivefree yours of age? with-
out one sigh of haste like the supreme prig he was, and not a bit
sorry, he would pull a vacant landlubber's face, root with ear-
waker's pensile in the outer of his lauscher and then, lisping,
the prattlepate parnella, to kill time, and swatting his deadbest
to think what under the canopies of Jansens Chrest would any
decent son of an Albiogenselman who had bin to an university
think, let a lent hit a hint and begin to tell all the intelligentsia
admitted to that tamileasy samtalaisy conclamazzione (since, still
and before physicians, lawyers merchant, belfry pollititians, agri-
colous manufraudurers, sacrestanes of the Pure River Society,
philanthropicks lodging on as many boards round the panesthetic
at the same time as possible) the whole lifelong swrine story of
his entire low cornaille existence, abusing his deceased ancestors
wherever the sods were and one moment tarabooming great
blunderguns (poh!) about his farfamed fine Poppamore, Mr
Humhum, whom history, climate and entertainment made the
first of his sept and always up to debt, though Eavens ears ow
many fines he faces, and another moment visanvrerssas, cruach-
ing three jeers (pah!) for his rotten little ghost of a Peppybeg,
Mr Himmyshimmy, a blighty, a reeky, a lighty, a scrapy, a bab-
bly, a ninny, dirty seventh among thieves and always bottom
sawyer, till nowan knowed how howmely howme could be, giv-
ing unsolicited testimony on behalf of the absent, as glib as eaves-
water to those present (who meanwhile, with increasing lack of
interest in his semantics, allowed various subconscious smickers
to drivel slowly across their fichers), unconsciously explaining,
for inkstands, with a meticulosity bordering on the insane, the
various meanings of all the different foreign parts of speech he
misused and cuttlefishing every lie unshrinkable about all the

other people in the story, leaving out, of course, foreconsciously,
the simple worf and plague and poison they had cornered him
about until there was not a snoozer among them but was utterly
undeceived in the heel of the reel by the recital of the rigmarole.
    He went without saying that the cull disliked anything anyway
approaching a plain straightforward standup or knockdown row
and, as often as he was called in to umpire any octagonal argu-
ment among slangwhangers, the accomplished washout always
used to rub shoulders with the last speaker and clasp shakers (the
handtouch which is speech without words) and agree to every
word as soon as half uttered, command me!, your servant, good,
I revere you, how, my seer? be drinking that! quite truth, grati-
as, I'm yoush, see wha'm hearing?, also goods, please it, me
sure?, be filling this!, quiso, you said it, apasafello, muchas
grassyass, is there firing-on-me?, is their girlic-on-you?, to your
good self, your sulphur, and then at once focuss his whole
unbalanced attention upon the next octagonist who managed to
catch a listener's eye, asking and imploring him out of his
piteous onewinker, (hemoptysia diadumenos) whether there was
anything in the world he could do to please him and to overflow
his tumbletantaliser for him yet once more.
    One hailcannon night (for his departure was attended by a
heavy downpour) as very recently as some thousand rains ago he
was therefore treated with what closely resembled parsonal viol-
ence, being soggert all unsuspectingly through the deserted village
of Tumblin-on-the-Leafy from Mr Vanhomrigh's house at 81 bis
Mabbot's Mall as far as Green Patch beyond the brickfields of
Salmon Pool by rival teams of slowspiers counter quicklimers
who finally, as rahilly they had been deteened out rawther lae-
tich, thought, busnis hits busnis, they had better be streaking for
home after their Auborne-to-Auborne, with thanks for the pleasant
evening, one and all disgustedly, instead of ruggering him back,
and awake, reconciled (though they were as jealous as could be
cullions about all the truffles they had brought on him) to a
friendship, fast and furious, which merely arose out of the noxious
pervert's perfect lowness. Again there was a hope that people,

looking on him with the contemp of the contempibles, after
first gaving him a roll in the dirt, might pity and forgive him, if
properly deloused, but the pleb was born a Quicklow and sank
alowing till he stank out of sight.
    All Saints beat Belial! Mickil Goals to Nichil! Notpossible!
Already?
In Nowhere has yet the Whole World taken part of himself for his
        Wife;
By Nowhere have Poorparents been sentenced to Worms, Blood and
        Thunder for Life
Not yet has the Emp from Corpsica forced the Arth out of Engleterre;
Not yet have the Sachsen and Judder on the Mound of a Word made
        Warre;
Not yet Witchywithcy of Wench struck Fire of his Heath from on
        Hoath;
Not yet his Arcobaleine forespoken Peacepeace upon Oath;
Cleftfoot from Hempal must tumpel, Blamefool Gardener's bound to
        fall;
Broken Eggs will poursuive bitten Apples for where theirs is Will
        there's his Wall;
But the Mountstill frowns on the Millstream while their Madsons
        leap his Bier
And her Rillstrill liffs to His Murkesty all her daft Daughters laff
        in her Ear.
Till the four Shores of deff Tory Island let the douze dumm Eire-
        whiggs raille!
Hirp! Hirp! for their Missed Understandings! chirps the Ballat of
        Perce-Oreille.

    O fortunous casualitas! Lefty takes the cherubcake while
Rights cloves his hoof. Darkies never done tug that coon out to
play non-excretory, anti-sexuous, misoxenetic, gaasy pure, flesh
and blood games, written and composed and sung and danced
by Niscemus Nemon, same as piccaninnies play all day, those
old (none of your honeys and rubbers!) games for fun and ele-
ment we used to play with Dina and old Joe kicking her behind
and before and the yellow girl kicking him behind old Joe,

games like Thom Thom the Thonderman, Put the Wind up the
Peeler, Hat in the Ring, Prisson your Pritchards and Play Withers
Team, Mikel on the Luckypig, Nickel in the Slot, Sheila Harnett and
her Cow, Adam and Ell, Humble Bumble, Moggie's on the Wall,
Twos and Threes, American Jump, Fox Come out of your Den,
Broken Bottles, Writing a Letter to Punch, Tiptop is a Sweetstore,
Henressy Crump Expolled, Postman's Knock, Are We Fairlys Rep-
resented?, Solomon Silent reading, Appletree Bearstone, I know a
Washerwoman, Hospitals, As I was Walking, There is Oneyone's
House in Dreamcolohour, Battle of Waterloo, Colours, Eggs in the
Bush, Habberdasherisher, Telling your Dreams, What's the Time,
Nap, Ducking Mammy, Last Man Standing, Heali Baboon and the
Forky Theagues, Fickleyes and Futilears, Handmarried but once in
my Life and I'll never commit such a Sin agin, Zip Cooney Candy,
Turkey in the Straw, This is the Way we sow the Seed of a long and
lusty Morning, Hops of Fun at Miliken's Make, I seen the Tooth-
brush with Pat Farrel, Here's the Fat to graze the Priest's Boots,
When his Steam was like a Raimbrandt round Mac Garvey.

    Now it is notoriously known how on that surprisingly bludgeony
Unity Sunday when the grand germogall allstar bout was harrily
the rage between our weltingtoms extraordinary and our petty-
thicks the marshalaisy and Irish eyes of welcome were smiling
daggers down their backs, when the roth, vice and blause met the
noyr blank and rogues and the grim white and cold bet the black
fighting tans, categorically unimperatived by the maxims, a rank
funk getting the better of him, the scut in a bad fit of pyjamas
fled like a leveret for his bare lives, to Talviland, ahone ahaza, pur-
sued by the scented curses of all the village belles and, without
having struck one blow, (pig stole on him was lust he lagging it
was becaused dust he shook) kuskykorked himself up tight in
his inkbattle house, badly the worse for boosegas, there to stay
in afar for the life, where, as there was not a moment to be lost,
after he had boxed around with his fortepiano till he was whole
bach bamp him and bump him blues, he collapsed carefully under
a bedtick from Schwitzer's, his face enveloped into a dead war-
rior's telemac, with a lullobaw's somnbomnet and a whotwater-

wottle at his feet to stoke his energy of waiting, moaning feebly,
in monkmarian monotheme, but tarned long and then a nation
louder, while engaged in swallowing from a large ampullar, that
his pawdry's purgatory was more than a nigger bloke could bear,
hemiparalysed by the tong warfare and all the shemozzle, (Daily
Maily, fullup Lace! Holy Maly, Mothelup Joss!
) his cheeks and
trousers changing colour every time a gat croaked.
    How is that for low, laities and gentlenuns? Why, dog of the
Crostiguns, whole continents rang with this Kairokorran low-
ness! Sheols of houris in chems upon divans, (revolted stellas
vespertine vesamong them) at a bare (O!) mention of the scaly
rybald exclaimed: Poisse!
    But would anyone, short of a madhouse, believe it? Neither of
those clean little cherubum, Nero or Nobookisonester himself,
ever nursed such a spoiled opinion of his monstrous marvellosity
as did this mental and moral defective (here perhaps at the
vanessance of his lownest) who was known to grognt rather than
gunnard upon one occasion, while drinking heavily of spirits to
that interlocutor a latere and private privysuckatary he used to
pal around with, in the kavehazs, one Davy Browne-Nowlan, his
heavenlaid twin, (this hambone dogpoet pseudoed himself under
the hangname he gave himself of Bethgelert) in the porchway of
a gipsy's bar (Shem always blaspheming, so holy writ, Billy, he
would try, old Belly, and pay this one manjack congregant of
his four soups every lass of nexmouth, Bolly, so sure as thair's a
tail on a commet, as a taste for storik's fortytooth, that is to
stay, to listen out, ony twenny minnies moe, Bully, his Ballade
Imaginaire which was to be dubbed Wine, Woman and Water-
clocks, or How a Guy Finks and Fawkes When He Is Going Batty
,
by Maistre Sheames de la Plume, some most dreadful stuff in a
murderous mirrorhand) that he was avoopf (parn me!) aware
of no other shaggspick, other Shakhisbeard, either prexactly
unlike his polar andthisishis or procisely the seem as woops
(parn!) as what he fancied or guessed the sames as he was him-
self and that, greet scoot, duckings and thuggery, though he was
foxed fux to fux like a bunnyboy rodger with all the teashop

lionses of Lumdrum hivanhoesed up gagainst him, being a lapsis
linquo with a ruvidubb shortartempa, bad cad dad fad sad mad
nad vanhaty bear, the consciquenchers of casuality prepestered
crusswords in postposition, scruff, scruffer, scrufferumurraimost
andallthatsortofthing, if reams stood to reason and his lanka-
livline lasted he would wipe alley english spooker, multapho-
niaksically spuking, off the face of the erse.
    After the thorough fright he got that bloody, Swithun's day,
though every doorpost in muchtried Lucalizod was smeared with
generous erstborn gore and every free for all cobbleway slippery
with the bloods of heroes, crying to Welkins for others, and
noahs and cul verts agush with tears of joy, our low waster never
had the common baalamb's pluck to stir out and about the com-
pound while everyone else of the torchlit throng, slashers and
sliced alike, mobbu on massa, waaded and baaded around, yamp-
yam pampyam, chanting the Gillooly chorus, from the Monster
Book of Paltryattic Puetrie, O pura e pia bella! in junk et sampam
or in secular sinkalarum, heads up, on his bonafide avocation (the
little folk creeping on all fours to their natural school treat but
childishly gleeful when a stray whizzer sang out intermediately)
and happy belongers to the fairer sex on their usual quest for
higher things, but vying with Lady Smythe to avenge Mac-
Jobber, went stonestepping with their bickerrstaffs on educated
feet, plinkity plonk, across the sevenspan ponte dei colori set up
over the slop after the war-to-end war by Messrs a charitable
government for the only once (dia dose Finnados!) he did take
a tompip peepestrella throug a threedraw eighteen hawkspower
durdicky telescope, luminous to larbourd only like the lamps in
Nassaustrass, out of his westernmost keyhole, spitting at the
impenetrablum wetter, (and it was porcoghastly that outumn) with
an eachway hope in his shivering soul, as he prayed to the cloud
Incertitude, of finding out for himself, on akkount of all the
kules in Kroukaparka or oving to all the kodseoggs in Kalatavala,
whether true conciliation was forging ahead or falling back after
the celestious intemperance and, for Duvvelsache, why, with his
see me see and his my see a corves and his frokerfoskerfuskar

layen loves in meeingseeing, he got the charm of his optical
life when he found himself (hic sunt lennones!) at pointblank
range blinking down the barrel of an irregular revolver of
the bulldog with a purpose pattern, handled by an unknown
quarreler who, supposedly, had been told off to shade and
shoot shy Shem should the shit show his shiny shnout out
awhile to look facts in their face before being hosed and creased
(uprip and jack him!) by six or a dozen of the gayboys.
    What, para Saom Plaom, in the names of Deucalion and
Pyrrha, and the incensed privy and the licensed pantry gods
and Stator and Victor and Kutt and Runn and the whole mesa
redonda of Lorencao Otulass in convocacaon, was this dis-
interestingly low human type, this Calumnious Column of
Cloaxity, this Bengalese Beacon of Biloxity, this Annamite Aper
of Atroxity, really at, it will be precise to quarify, for he seems
in a badbad case?
    The answer, to do all the diddies in one dedal, would sound:
from pulling himself on his most flavoured canal the huge chest-
house of his elders (the Popapreta, and some navico, navvies!)
he had flickered up and flinnered down into a drug and drunkery
addict, growing megalomane of a loose past. This explains the
litany of septuncial lettertrumpets honorific, highpitched, erudite,
neoclassical, which he so loved as patricianly to manuscribe after
his name. It would have diverted, if ever seen, the shuddersome
spectacle of this semidemented zany amid the inspissated grime
of his glaucous den making believe to read his usylessly unread-
able Blue Book of Eccles, édition de ténèbres, (even yet sighs the
Most Different, Dr. Poindejenk, authorised bowdler and censor,
it can't be repeated!) turning over three sheets at a wind, telling
himself delightedly, no espellor mor so, that every splurge on the
vellum he blundered over was an aisling vision more gorgeous
than the one before t.i.t.s., a roseschelle cottage by the sea for
nothing for ever, a ladies tryon hosiery raffle at liberty, a sewer-
ful of guineagold wine with brancomongepadenopie and sick-
cylinder oysters worth a billion a bite, an entire operahouse
(there was to be stamping room only in the prompter's box and

everthemore his queque kept swelling) of enthusiastic noble-
women flinging every coronetcrimsoned stitch they had off at
his probscenium, one after the others, inamagoaded into ajustil-
loosing themselves, in their gaiety pantheomime, when, egad, sir,
acordant to all acountstrick, he squealed the topsquall im Deal
Lil Shemlockup Yellin
(geewhiz, jew ear that far! soap ewer!
loutgout of sabaous! juice like a boyd!) for fully five minutes, in-
finitely better than Baraton Mc Gluckin with a scrumptious cocked
hat and three green, cheese and tangerine trinity plumes on the
right handle side of his amarellous head, a coat macfarlane (the
kerssest cut, you understand?) a sponiard's digger at his ribs,
(Alfaiate punxit) an azulblu blowsheet for his blousebosom
blossom and a dean's crozier that he won from Cardinal Lin-
dundarri and Cardinal Carchingarri and Cardinal Loriotuli and
Cardinal Occidentaccia (ah ho!) in the dearby darby doubled for
falling first over the hurdles, madam, in the odder hand, a.a.t.s.o.t.,
but what with the murky light, the botchy print, the tattered
cover, the jigjagged page, the fumbling fingers, the foxtrotting
fleas, the lieabed lice, the scum on his tongue, the drop in his
eye, the lump in his throat, the drink in his pottle, the itch in his
palm, the wail of his wind, the grief from his breath, the fog of
his mindfag, the buzz in his braintree, the tic of his conscience,
the height up his rage, the gush down his fundament, the fire
in his gorge, the tickle of his tail, the bane in his bullugs, the
squince in his suil, the rot in his eater, the ycho in his earer,
the totters of his toes, the tetters on his tumtytum, the rats in his
garret, the bats in his belfry, the budgerigars and bumbosolom
beaubirds, the hullabaloo and the dust in his ears since it took him
a month to steal a march he was hardset to mumorise more than
a word a week. Hake's haulin! Hook's fisk! Can you beat it?
Whawe! I say, can you bait it? Was there ever heard of such
lowdown blackguardism? Positively it woolies one to think
over it.
    Yet the bumpersprinkler used to boast aloud alone to himself
with a haccent on it when Mynfadher was a boer constructor and
Hoy was a lexical student, parole, and corrected with the black-

board (trying to copy the stage Englesemen he broughts their
house down on, shouting: Bravure, surr Chorles! Letter purfect!
Culossal, Loose Wallor! Spache!) how he had been toed out of
all the schicker families of the klondykers from Pioupioureich,
Swabspays, the land of Nod, Shruggers' Country, Pension
Danubierhome and Barbaropolis, who had settled and stratified
in the capital city after its hebdomodary metropoliarchialisation
as sunblistered, moonplastered, gory, wheedling, joviale, litche-
rous and full, ordered off the gorgeous premises in most cases on
account of his smell which all cookmaids eminently objected to
as ressembling the bombinubble puzzo that welled out of the
pozzo. Instead of chuthoring those model households plain
wholesome pothooks (a thing he never possessed of his Nigerian
own) what do you think Vulgariano did but study with stolen
fruit how cutely to copy all their various styles of signature so as
one day to utter an epical forged cheque on the public for his own
private profit until, as just related, the Dustbin's United Scullery-
maid's and Househelp's Sorority, better known as Sluttery's
Mowlted Futt, turned him down and assisted nature by unitedly
shoeing the source of annoyance out of the place altogether and
taytotally on the heat of the moment, holding one another's
gonk (for no-one, hound or scrublady, not even the Turk, un-
greekable in purscent of the armenable, dared whiff the polecat
at close range) and making some pointopointing remarks as they
done so at the perfects of the Sniffey, your honour, aboon the
lyow why a stunk, mister.
    [Jymes wishes to hear from wearers of abandoned female cos-
tumes, gratefully received, wadmel jumper, rather full pair of
culottes and onthergarmenteries, to start city life together. His
jymes is out of job, would sit and write. He has lately commited
one of the then commandments but she will now assist. Superior
built, domestic, regular layer. Also got the boot. He appreciates
it. Copies. ABORTISEMENT.]
    One cannot even begin to post figure out a statuesquo ante
as to how slow in reality the excommunicated Drumcondriac,
nate Hamis, really was. Who can say how many pseudostylic

shamiana, how few or how many of the most venerated public
impostures, how very many piously forged palimpsests slipped
in the first place by this morbid process from his pelagiarist pen?
    Be that as it may, but for that light phantastic of his gnose's
glow as it slid lucifericiously within an inch of its page (he would
touch at its from time to other, the red eye of his fear in
saddishness, to ensign the colours by the beerlitz in his mathness
and his educandees to outhue to themselves in the cries of girl-
glee: gember! inkware! chonchambre! cinsero! zinnzabar! tinc-
ture and gin!) Nibs never would have quilled a seriph to
sheepskin. By that rosy lampoon's effluvious burning and with
help of the simulchronic flush in his pann (a ghinee a ghirk he
ghets there!) he scrabbled and scratched and scriobbled and
skrevened nameless shamelessness about everybody ever he met,
even sharing a precipitation under the idlish tarriers' umbrella
of a showerproof wall, while all over up and down the four
margins of this rancid Shem stuff the evilsmeller (who was
devoted to Uldfadar Sardanapalus) used to stipple endlessly
inartistic portraits of himself in the act of reciting old
Nichiabelli's monolook interyerear Hanno, o Nonanno, acce'l
brubblemm'as
, ser Autore, q.e.d., a heartbreakingly handsome
young paolo with love lyrics for the goyls in his eyols, a plain-
tiff's tanner vuice, a jucal inkome of one hundred and thirtytwo
dranchmas per yard from Broken Hill stranded estate, Came-
breech mannings, cutting a great dash in a brandnew two guinea
dress suit and a burled hogsford hired for a Fursday evenin
merry pawty, anna loavely long pair of inky Italian moostarshes
glistering with boric vaseline and frangipani. Puh! How un-
whisperably so!
    The house O'Shea or O'Shame, Quivapieno, known as the
Haunted Inkbottle, no number Brimstone Walk, Asia in Ireland,
as it was infested with the raps, with his penname SHUT sepia-
scraped on the doorplate and a blind of black sailcloth over its
wan phwinshogue, in which the soulcontracted son of the secret
cell groped through life at the expense of the taxpayers, dejected
into day and night with jesuit bark and bitter bite, calico-

hydrants of zolfor and scoppialamina by full and forty Queasi-
sanos, every day in everyone's way more exceeding in violent
abuse of self and others, was the worst, it is hoped, even in our
western playboyish world for pure mousefarm filth. You brag
of your brass castle or your tyled house in ballyfermont? Niggs,
niggs and niggs again. For this was a stinksome inkenstink, quite
puzzonal to the wrottel. Smatterafact, Angles aftanon browsing
there thought not Edam reeked more rare. My wud! The warped
flooring of the lair and soundconducting walls thereof, to say
nothing of the uprights and imposts, were persianly literatured
with burst loveletters, telltale stories, stickyback snaps, doubtful
eggshells, bouchers, flints, borers, puffers, amygdaloid almonds,
rindless raisins, alphybettyformed verbage, vivlical viasses, om-
piter dictas, visus umbique, ahems and ahahs, imeffible tries at
speech unasyllabled, you owe mes, eyoldhyms, fluefoul smut,
fallen lucifers, vestas which had served, showered ornaments,
borrowed brogues, reversibles jackets, blackeye lenses, family
jars, falsehair shirts, Godforsaken scapulars, neverworn breeches,
cutthroat ties, counterfeit franks, best intentions, curried notes,
upset latten tintacks, unused mill and stumpling stones, twisted
quills, painful digests, magnifying wineglasses, solid objects cast
at goblins, once current puns, quashed quotatoes, messes of mot-
tage, unquestionable issue papers, seedy ejaculations, limerick
damns, crocodile tears, spilt ink, blasphematory spits, stale shest-
nuts, schoolgirl's, young ladies, milkmaids', washerwomen's,
shopkeepers' wives, merry widows', ex nuns', vice abbess's, pro
virgins', super whores', silent sisters', Charleys' aunts', grand-
mothers', mothers'-in-laws, fostermothers', godmothers' garters,
tress clippings from right, lift and cintrum, worms of snot,
toothsome pickings, cans of Swiss condensed bilk, highbrow
lotions, kisses from the antipodes, presents from pickpockets,
borrowed plumes, relaxable handgrips, princess promises, lees of
whine, deoxodised carbons, convertible collars, diviliouker
doffers, broken wafers, unloosed shoe latchets, crooked strait
waistcoats, fresh horrors from Hades, globules of mercury,
undeleted glete, glass eyes for an eye, gloss teeth for a tooth,

war moans, special sighs, longsufferings of longstanding, ahs ohs
ouis sis jas jos gias neys thaws sos, yeses and yeses and yeses, to
which, if one has the stomach to add the breakages, upheavals
distortions, inversions of all this chambermade music one stands,
given a grain of goodwill, a fair chance of actually seeing the
whirling dervish, Tumult, son of Thunder, self exiled in upon
his ego, a nightlong a shaking betwixtween white or reddr haw-
rors, noondayterrorised to skin and bone by an ineluctable phan-
tom (may the Shaper have mercery on him!) writing the mystery
of himsel in furniture.
    Of course our low hero was a self valeter by choice of need so
up he got up whatever is meant by a stourbridge clay kitchen-
ette and lithargogalenu fowlhouse for the sake of akes (the
umpple does not fall very far from the dumpertree) which the
moromelodious jigsmith, in defiance of the Uncontrollable Birth
Preservativation (Game and Poultry) Act, playing lallaryrook
cookerynook, by the dodginess of his lentern, brooled and cocked
and potched in an athanor, whites and yolks and yilks and whotes
to the frulling fredonnance of Mas blanca que la blanca hermana
and Amarilla, muy bien, with cinnamon and locusts and wild bees-
wax and liquorice and Carrageen moss and blaster of Barry's and
Asther's mess and Huster's micture and Yellownan's embrocation
and Pinkingtone's patty and stardust and sinner's tears, acuredent
to Sharadan's Art of Panning, chanting, for all regale to the like
of the legs he left behind with Litty fun Letty fan Leven, his
cantraps of fermented words, abracadabra calubra culorum, (his
oewfs à la Madame Gabrielle de l'Eglise, his avgs à la Mistress
B. de B. Meinfelde, his eiers Usquadmala à la pomme de ciel,
his uoves, oves and uves à la Sulphate de Soude, his ochiuri
sowtay sowmmonay a la Monseigneur, his soufflosion of oogs
with somekat on toyast à la Mère Puard, his Poggadovies alla
Fenella, his Frideggs à la Tricarême) in what was meant for a
closet (Ah ho! If only he had listened better to the four masters
that infanted him Father Mathew and Le Père Noble and Pastor
Lucas and Padre Aguilar
not forgetting Layteacher Baudwin!
Ah ho!) His costive Satan's antimonian manganese limolitmious

nature never needed such an alcove so, when Robber and Mum-
sell, the pulpic dictators, on the nudgment of their legal advisers,
Messrs Codex and Podex, and under his own benefiction of their
pastor Father Flammeus Falconer, boycotted him of all mutton-
suet candles and romeruled stationery for any purpose, he winged
away on a wildgoup's chase across the kathartic ocean and made
synthetic ink and sensitive paper for his own end out of his wit's
waste. You ask, in Sam Hill, how? Let manner and matter of this
for these our sporting times be cloaked up in the language of
blushfed porporates that an Anglican ordinal, not reading his
own rude dunsky tunga, may ever behold the brand of scarlet
on the brow of her of Babylon and feel not the pink one in his
own damned cheek.
    Primum opifex, altus prosator, ad terram viviparam et cuncti-
potentem sine ullo pudore nec venia, suscepto pluviali atque discinctis
perizomatis, natibus nudis uti nati fuissent, sese adpropinquans,
flens et gemens, in manum suam evacuavit
(highly prosy, crap in his
hand, sorry!), postea, animale nigro exoneratus, classicum pulsans,
stercus proprium, quod appellavit deiectiones suas, in vas olim
honorabile tristitiae posuit, eodem sub invocatione fratrorum gemino-
rum Medardi et Godardi laete ac melliflue minxit, psalmum qui
incipit: Lingua mea calamus scribae velociter scribentis: magna voce
cantitans
(did a piss, says he was dejected, asks to be exonerated),
demum ex stercore turpi cum divi Orionis iucunditate mixto, cocto,
frigorique exposito, encaustum sibi fecit indelibile
(faked O'Ryan's,
the indelible ink).
    Then, pious Eneas, conformant to the fulminant firman which
enjoins on the tremylose terrian that, when the call comes, he
shall produce nichthemerically from his unheavenly body a no
uncertain quantity of obscene matter not protected by copriright
in the United Stars of Ourania or bedeed and bedood and bedang
and bedung to him, with this double dye, brought to blood heat,
gallic acid on iron ore, through the bowels of his misery, flashly,
faithly, nastily, appropriately, this Esuan Menschavik and the first
till last alshemist wrote over every square inch of the only fools-
cap available, his own body, till by its corrosive sublimation one

continuous present tense integument slowly unfolded all marry-
voising moodmoulded cyclewheeling history (thereby, he said,
reflecting from his own individual person life unlivable, trans-
accidentated through the slow fires of consciousness into a divi-
dual chaos, perilous, potent, common to allflesh, human only,
mortal) but with each word that would not pass away the squid-
self which he had squirtscreened from the crystalline world
waned chagreenold and doriangrayer in its dudhud. This exists
that isits after having been said we know. And dabal take dab-
nal! And the dal dabal dab aldanabal! So perhaps, agglaggagglo-
meratively asaspenking, after all and arklast fore arklyst on his
last public misappearance, circling the square, for the deathfête
of Saint Ignaceous Poisonivy, of the Fickle Crowd (hopon the
sexth day of Hogsober, killim our king, layum low!) and brandish-
ing his bellbearing stylo, the shining keyman of the wilds of
change, if what is sauce for the zassy is souse for the zazimas, the
blond cop who thought it was ink was out of his depth but
bright in the main.
    Petty constable Sistersen of the Kruis-Kroon-Kraal it was, the
parochial watch, big the dog the dig the bog the bagger the
dugger the begadag degabug, who had been detailed from pollute
stoties to save him, this the quemquem, that the quum, from the
ligatureliablous effects of foul clay in little clots and mobmauling
on looks, that wrongcountered the tenderfoot an eveling near
the livingsmeansuniumgetherum, Knockmaree, Comty Mea, reel-
ing more to the right than he lurched to the left, on his way from
a protoprostitute (he would always have a (stp!) little pigeoness
somewhure with his arch girl, Arcoiris, smockname of Mergyt)
just as he was butting in rand the coyner of bad times under a
hideful between the rival doors of warm bethels of worship
through his boardelhouse fongster, greeting for grazious oras
as usual: Where ladies have they that a dog meansort herring?
Sergo, search me, the incapable reparteed with a selfevitant
subtlety so obviously spurious and, raising his hair, after the
grace, with the christmas under his clutcharm, for Portsymasser
and Purtsymessus and Pertsymiss and Partsymasters, like a prance

of findingos, with a shillto shallto slipny stripny, in he skittled.
Swikey! The allwhite poors guardiant, pulpably of balltossic
stummung, was literally astundished over the painful sake, how
he burstteself, which he was gone to, where he intent to did he,
whether you think will, wherend the whole current of the after-
noon whats the souch of a surch hads of hits of hims, urged and
staggered thereto in his countryports at the caledosian capacity
for Lieutuvisky of the caftan's wineskin and even more so,
during, looking his bigmost astonishments, it was said him,
aschu, fun the concerned outgift of the dead med dirt, how that,
arrahbejibbers, conspuent to the dominical order and exking
noblish permish, he was namely coon at bringer at home two
gallonts, as per royal, full poultry till his murder. Nip up and nab
it!
    Polthergeistkotzdondherhoploits! Kick? What mother? Whose
porter? Which pair? Why namely coon? But our undilligence has
been plutherotested so enough of such porterblack lowneess, too
base for printink! Perpending that Putterick O'Purcell pulls the
coald stoane out of Winterwater's and Silder Seas sing for Harreng
our Keng, sept okt nov dez John Phibbs march! We cannot, in
mercy or justice nor on the lovom for labaryntos, stay here for
the residence of our existings, discussing Tamstar Ham of Ten-
man's thirst.
    JUSTIUS (to himother): Brawn is my name and broad is my
nature and I've breit on my brow and all's right with every fea-
ture and I'll brune this bird or Brown Bess's bung's gone bandy.
I'm the boy to bruise and braise. Baus!
    Stand forth, Nayman of Noland (for no longer will I follow
you obliquelike through the inspired form of the third person
singular and the moods and hesitensies of the deponent but ad-
dress myself to you, with the empirative of my vendettative, pro-
vocative and out direct), stand forth, come boldly, jolly me,
move me, zwilling though I am, to laughter in your true colours
ere you be back for ever till I give you your talkingto! Shem
Macadamson, you know me and I know you and all your she-
meries. Where have you been in the uterim, enjoying yourself

all the morning since your last wetbed confession? I advise you
to conceal yourself, my little friend, as I have said a moment
ago and put your hands in my hands and have a nightslong
homely little confiteor about things. Let me see. It is looking
pretty black against you, we suggest, Sheem avick. You will
need all the elements in the river to clean you over it all and a
fortifine popespriestpower bull of attender to booth.
    Let us pry. We thought, would and did. Cur, quicquid, ubi,
quomodo, quoties, quibus auxiliis?
You were bred, fed,
fostered and fattened from holy childhood up in this two easter
island on the piejaw of hilarious heaven and roaring the other
place (plunders to night of you, blunders what's left of you, flash
as flash can!) and now, forsooth, a nogger among the blankards
of this dastard century, you have become of twosome twiminds
forenenst gods, hidden and discovered, nay, condemned fool,
anarch, egoarch, hiresiarch, you have reared your disunited king-
dom on the vacuum of your own most intensely doubtful soul.
Do you hold yourself then for some god in the manger, Sheho-
hem, that you will neither serve not let serve, pray nor let pray?
And here, pay the piety, must I too nerve myself to pray for the
loss of selfrespect to equip me for the horrible necessity of scan-
dalisang (my dear sisters, are you ready?) by sloughing off my
hope and tremors while we all swin together in the pool of So-
dom? I shall shiver for my purity while they will weepbig for
your sins. Away with covered words, new Solemonities for old
Badsheetbaths! That inharmonious detail, did you name it? Cold
caldor! Gee! Victory! Now, opprobro of underslung pipes,
johnjacobs, while yet an adolescent (what do I say?), while
still puerile in your tubsuit with buttonlegs, you got a hand-
some present of a selfraising syringe and twin feeders (you know,
Monsieur Abgott, in your art of arts, to your cost as well as I do
(and don't try to hide it) the penals lots I am now poking at) and
the wheeze sort of was you should (if you were as bould a stroke
now as the curate that christened you, sonny douth-the-candle!)
repopulate the land of your birth and count up your progeny by
the hungered head and the angered thousand but you thwarted

the wious pish of your cogodparents, soph, among countless
occasions of failing (for, said you, I will elenchate), adding to the
malice of your transgression, yes, and changing its nature, (you
see I have read your theology for you) alternating the morosity
of my delectations
a philtred love, trysting by tantrums,
small peace in ppenmark
with sensibility, sponsibility, passi-
bility and prostability, your lubbock's other fear pleasures of a
butler's life, even extruding your strabismal apologia, when
legibly depressed, upon defenceless paper and thereby adding to
the already unhappiness of this our popeyed world, scribblative!
all that too with cantreds of countless catchaleens, the man-
nish as many as the minneful, congested around and about you
for acres and roods and poles or perches, thick as the fluctuant
sands of Chalwador, accomplished women, indeed fully edu-
canded, far from being old and rich behind their dream of arri-
visme, if they have only their honour left, and not deterred by bad
weather when consumed by amorous passion, struggling to pos-
sess themselves of your boosh, one son of Sorge for all daughters
of Anguish, solus cum sola sive cuncties cum omnibobs (I'd have
been the best man for you, myself), mutely aying for that natural
knot, debituary vases or vessels preposterous, for what would
not have cost you ten bolivars of collarwork or the price of one
ping pang, just a lilt, let us trillt, of the oldest song in the wooed
woodworld, (two-we! to-one!), accompanied by a plain gold
band! Hail! Hail! Highbosomheaving Missmisstress Morna of
the allsweetheartening bridemuredemeanour! Her eye's so glad-
some we'll all take shares in the
—— groom!
    Sniffer of carrion, premature gravedigger, seeker of the nest
of evil in the bosom of a good word, you, who sleep at our vigil
and fast for our feast, you with your dislocated reason, have
cutely foretold, a jophet in your own absence, by blind poring
upon your many scalds and burns and blisters, impetiginous sore
and pustules, by the auspices of that raven cloud, your shade, and
by the auguries of rooks in parlament, death with every disaster,
the dynamitisation of colleagues, the reducing of records to
ashes, the levelling of all customs by blazes, the return of a lot

of sweetempered gunpowdered didst unto dudst but it never
stphruck your mudhead's obtundity (O hell, here comes our
funeral! O pest, I'll miss the post!) that the more carrots you
chop, the more turnips you slit, the more murphies you peel, the
more onions you cry over, the more bullbeef you butch, the
more mutton you crackerhack, the more potherbs you pound,
the fiercer the fire and the longer your spoon and the harder you
gruel with more grease to your elbow the merrier fumes your
new Irish stew.
    O, by the way, yes, another thing occurs to me. You let me tell
you, with the utmost politeness, were very ordinarily designed,
your birthwrong was, to fall in with Plan, as our nationals
should, as all nationists must, and do a certain office (what, I will
not tell you) in a certain holy office (nor will I say where) during
certain agonising office hours (a clerical party all to yourself) from
such a year to such an hour on such and such a date at so and
so much a week pro anno (Guinness's, may I remind, were just
agulp for you, failing in which you might have taken the scales off
boilers like any boskop of Yorek) and do your little thruppenny
bit and thus earn from the nation true thanks, right here in our
place of burden, your bourne of travail and ville of tares, where
after a divine's prodigence you drew the first watergasp in your
life, from the crib where you once was bit to the crypt you'll
be twice as shy of, same as we, long of us, alone with the colt
in the curner, where you were as popular as an armenial with
the faithful, and you set fire to my tailcoat when I hold the
paraffin smoker under yours (I hope that chimney's clear) but,
slackly shirking both your bullet and your billet, you beat it
backwards like Boulanger from Galway (but he combed the grass
against his stride) to sing us a song of alibi, (the cuthone call over
the greybounding slowrolling amplyheaving metamorphoseous
that oozy rocks parapangle their preposters with) nomad, mooner
by lamplight, antinos, shemming amid everyone's repressed
laughter to conceal your scatchophily by mating, like a thorough-
paste prosodite, masculine monosyllables of the same numerical
mus, an Irish emigrant the wrong way out, sitting on your crooked

sixpenny stile, an unfrillfrocked quackfriar, you (will you for
the laugh of Scheekspair just help mine with the epithet?) semi-
semitic serendipitist, you (thanks, I think that describes you)
Europasianised Afferyank!
    Shall we follow each others a steplonger, drowner of daggers,
whiles our liege, tilyet a stranger in the frontyard of his happi-
ness, is taking, (heal helper! one gob, one gap, one gulp and
gorger of all!) his refreshment?
    There grew up beside you, amid our orisons of the speediest
in Novena Lodge, Novara Avenue, in Patripodium-am-Bummel,
oaf, outofwork, one remove from an unwashed savage, on his
keeping and in yours, (I pose you know why possum hides is
cause he haint the nogumtreeumption) that other, Immaculatus,
from head to foot, sir, that pure one, Altrues of other times,
he who was well known to celestine circles before he sped
aloft, our handsome young spiritual physician that was to be,
seducing every sense to selfwilling celebesty, the most winning
counterfeuille on our incomeshare lotetree, a chum of the
angelets, a youth those reporters so pettitily wanted as game-
fellow that they asked his mother for ittle earps brupper to
let him tome to Tindertarten, pease, and bing his scooter
'long and 'tend they were all real brothers in the big justright
home where Dodd lives, just to teddyfy the life out of him
and pat and pass him one with other like musk from hand to
hand, that mothersmothered model, that goodlooker with not
a flaw whose spiritual toilettes were the talk of half the town, for
sunset wear and nightfallen use and daybroken donning and
nooncheon showing and the very thing for teasetime, but him
you laid low with one hand one fine May morning in the Meddle
of your Might, your bosom foe, because he mussed your speller
on you or because he cut a pretty figure in the focus of your
frontispecs (not one did you slay, no, but a continent!) to find
out how his innards worked!
    Ever read of that greatgrand landfather of our visionbuilders,
Baaboo, the bourgeoismeister, who thought to touch both him-
mels at the punt of his risen stiffstaff and how wishywashy sank

the waters of his thought? Ever thought of that hereticalist Marcon
and the two scissymaidies and how bulkily he shat the Ructions
gunorrhal? Ever hear of that foxy, that lupo and that monkax
and the virgin heir of the Morrisons, eh, blethering ape?
    Malingerer in luxury, collector general, what has Your Low-
ness done in the mealtime with all the hamilkcars of cooked
vegetables, the hatfuls of stewed fruit, the suitcases of coddled
ales, the Parish funds, me schamer, man, that you kittycoaxed so
flexibly out of charitable butteries by yowling heavy with a
hollow voice drop of your horrible awful poverty of mind so as
you couldn't even pledge a crown of Thorne's to pawn a coat
off Trevi's and as how you was bad no end, so you was, so whelp
you Sinner Pitre and Sinner Poule, with the chicken's gape and
pas mal de siècle, which, by the by, Reynaldo, is the ordinary
emetic French for grenadier's drip. To let you have your plank
and your bonewash (O the hastroubles you lost!), to give you
your pound of platinum and a thousand thongs a year (O, you
were excruciated, in honour bound to the cross of your own
cruelfiction!) to let you have your Sarday spree and holinight sleep
(fame would come to you twixt a sleep and a wake) and leave to
lie till Paraskivee and the cockcock crows for Danmark. (O
Jonathan, your estomach!) The simian has no sentiment secre-
tions but weep cataracts for all me, Pain the Shamman! Oft in
the smelly night will they wallow for a clutch of the famished
hand, I say, them bearded jezabelles you hired to rob you, while
on your sodden straw impolitely you encored (Airish and naw-
boggaleesh!) those hornmade ivory dreams you reved of the
Ruth you called your companionate, a beauty from the bible, of
the flushpots of Euston and the hanging garments of Maryle-
bone. But the dormer moonshee smiled selene and the light-
throwers knickered: who's whinging we? Comport yourself,
you inconsistency! Where is that little alimony nestegg against
our predictable rainy day? Is it not the fact (gainsay me, cake-
eater!) that, while whistlewhirling your crazy elegies around
Templetombmount joyntstone, (let him pass, pleasegood-
jesusalem, in a bundle of straw, he was balbettised after hay-

making) you squandered among underlings the overload of
your extravagance and made a hottentot of dulpeners crawsick
with your crumbs? Am I not right? Yes? Yes? Yes? Holy wax
and holifer! Don't tell me, Leon of the fold, that you are not a
loanshark! Look up, old sooty, be advised by mux and take your
medicine. The Good Doctor mulled it. Mix it twice before re-
pastures and powder three times a day. It does marvels for your
gripins and it's fine for the solitary worm.
    Let me finish! Just a little judas tonic, my ghem of all jokes, to
make you go green in the gazer. Do you hear what I'm seeing,
hammet? And remember that golden silence gives consent, Mr
Anklegazer! Cease to be civil, learn to say nay! Whisht! Come
here, Herr Studiosus, till I tell you a wig in your ear. We'll do a
whisper drive, for if the barishnyas got a twitter of it they'd tell
the housetops and then all Cadbury would go crackers. Look!
Do you see your dial in the rockingglass? Look well! Bend down
a stigmy till I! It's secret! Iggri, I say, the booseleers! I had it
from Lamppost Shawe. And he had it from the Mullah. And Mull
took it from a Bluecoat schooler. And Gay Socks jot it from
Potapheu's wife. And Rantipoll tipped the wink from old Mrs
Tinbullet. And as for she was confussed by pro-Brother Thaco-
licus. And the good brother feels he would need to defecate
you. And the Flimsy Follettes are simply beside each other.
And Kelly, Kenny and Keogh are up up and in arms. That a
cross may crush me if I refuse to believe in it. That I may rock
anchor through the ages if I hope it's not true. That the host
may choke me if I beneighbour you without my charity! Sh!
Shem, you are. Sh! You are mad!
    He points the deathbone and the quick are still. Insomnia,
somnia somniorum. Awmawm.

    MERCIUS (of hisself): Domine vopiscus! My fault, his fault,
a kingship through a fault! Pariah, cannibal Cain, I who oathily
forswore the womb that bore you and the paps I sometimes
sucked, you who ever since have been one black mass of jigs and
jimjams, haunted by a convulsionary sense of not having been
or being all that I might have been or you meant to becoming,

bewailing like a man that innocence which I could not defend
like a woman, lo, you there, Cathmon-Carbery, and thank Movies
from the innermost depths of my still attrite heart, Wherein
the days of youyouth are evermixed mimine, now ere the comp-
line hour of being alone athands itself and a puff or so before
we yield our spiritus to the wind, for (though that royal one
has not yet drunk a gouttelette from his consummation and the
flowerpot on the pole, the spaniel pack and their quarry, retainers
and the public house proprietor have not budged a millimetre
and all that has been done has yet to be done and done again,
when's day's woe, and lo, you're doomed, joyday dawns and,
la, you dominate) it is to you, firstborn and firstfruit of woe, to
me, branded sheep, pick of the wasterpaperbaskel, by the
tremours of Thundery and Ulerin's dogstar, you alone, wind-
blasted tree of the knowledge of beautiful andevil, ay, clothed
upon with the metuor and shimmering like the horescens, astro-
glodynamonologos, the child of Nilfit's father, blzb, to me
unseen blusher in an obscene coalhole, the cubilibum of your
secret sigh, dweller in the downandoutermost where voice only
of the dead may come, because ye left from me, because ye
laughed on me, because, O me lonly son, ye are forgetting me!,
that our turfbrown mummy is acoming, alpilla, beltilla, ciltilla,
deltilla, running with her tidings, old the news of the great big
world, sonnies had a scrap, woewoewoe! bab's baby walks at
seven months, waywayway! bride leaves her raid at Punchestime,
stud stoned before a racecourseful, two belles that make the
one appeal, dry yanks will visit old sod, and fourtiered skirts
are up, mesdames, while Parimiknie wears popular short legs,
and twelve hows to mix a tipsy wake, did ye hear, colt Cooney?
did ye ever, filly Fortescue? with a beck, with a spring, all her
rillringlets shaking, rocks drops in her tachie, tramtokens in
her hair, all waived to a point and then all inuendation, little
oldfashioned mummy, little wonderful mummy, ducking under
bridges, bellhopping the weirs, dodging by a bit of bog, rapid-
shooting round the bends, by Tallaght's green hills and the
pools of the phooka and a place they call it Blessington and

slipping sly by Sallynoggin, as happy as the day is wet, bab-
bling, bubbling, chattering to herself, deloothering the fields on
their elbows leaning with the sloothering slide of her, giddy-
gaddy, grannyma, gossipaceous Anna Livia.
    He lifts the lifewand and the dumb speak.
   
Quoiquoiquoiquoiquoiquoiquoiq!