Finnegans Wake - James Joyce [202]
Now piawn to bishop’s forthe! Moove. There’s Mumblesome Wadding Murch cranking up to the hornemooni-um. Drawg us out Ivy Eve in the Hall of Alum! The finnecies of poetry wed music. Feeling the jitters?
You’ll be as tight as Trivett when the knot’s knutted on. Now’s your never!
Peena and Queena are duetting a giggle-for-giggle and the brideen Alannah is lost in her diamindwaiting. What a magnificent gesture you will show us this gallus day. Clean and easy, be the hooker ! And a free for croaks after. Dovlen are out for it. So is Rathfinn. And, hike, here’s the hearse and four horses with the interpro-vincial crucifixioners throwing lots inside to know whose to be their gosson and whereas to brake the news to morhor. How our myterbilder his fullen aslip. And who will wager but he’ll Shonny Bhoy be, the fleshlumpfleeter from Poshtapengha file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
and all he bares sobsconcious inklings shadowed on soulskin’. Its segnet yores, the strake of a hin. Nup. Laying the cloth, to fore of them. And thanking the fish, in core of them. To pass the grace for Gard sake!
Ahmohn. Mr Justician Matthews and Mr Justician Marks and Mr Justician Luk de Luc and Mr Justinian Johnston–Johnson. And the aaskart, see, behind! Help, help, hurray! All— sup, allsop ! Four ghools to nail ! Cut it down, mates, look slippy! They’ve got a dathe with a swimminpull. Dang! Ding! Dong! Dung! Dinnin. Isn’t it great he is swaying above us for his good and ours. Fly your balloons, dannies and dennises! He’s door-knobs dead! And Annie Delap is free! Ones more. We could ate you, par Buccas, and imbabe through you, reassuranced in the wild lac of gotliness. One fledge, one brood till hulm culms evurdyburdy. Huh the throman! Huh the traidor. Huh the truh. Arrorsure, he’s the mannork of Arrahland over-sense he horrhorrd his name in thuthunder. Rrrwwwkkkrrr! And seen it rudden up in fusefiressence on the flashmurket. P.R.C.R.L.L. Royloy. Of the rollorrish rattillary. The lewd-ningbluebolteredallucktruckalltraumconductor! The unnamed nonirishblooder that becomes a Greenislender overnight! But we’re molting superstituettes out of his fulse thortin guts. Tried mark, Easterlings. Sign, Soideric O’Cunnuc, Rix. Adversed ord, Magtmorken, Kovenhow. There’s a great conversion, myn! Cou-cous! Find his causcaus!
From Motometusolum through Bulley and Cowlie and Diggerydiggerydock down to bazeness’s usual? He’s alight there still, by Mike! Loose afore! Bung! Bring forth your deed! Bang! Till is the right time. Bang! Partick Thistle agen S. Megan’s versus Brystal Palace agus the Walsall! Putsch! Tiemore moretis tisturb badday ! The playgue will be soon over, rats! Let sin! Geh tont! All we wants is to get peace for possession. We dinned unnerstunned why you sassad about thurteen to aloafen, sor, kindly repeat! Or ledn us alones of your lungorge, parsonifier propounde of our edelweissed idol worts! Shaw and Shea are lorning obsen so hurgle up, gandfarder, and gurgle me gurk. You can’t impose on frayshouters like os. Every tub here spucks his own fat. Hang coersion everyhow! And smotther-mock Gramm’s laws! But we’re a drippindhrue gayleague all at ones. In the buginning is the woid, in the muddle is the sound-dance and thereinofter you’re in the unbewised again, vund vulsyvolsy. You talker dunsker’s brogue men we our souls speech obstruct hostery. Silence in thought! Spreach! Wear anartful of outer nocense!
Pawpaw, wowow! Momerry twelfths, noebroed! That was a good one, ha!
So it will be quite a material what May farther be unvuloped for you, old Mighty, when it’s aped to foul a delfian in the Mahnung. Ha ha! Talk of Paddy-barke’s echo ! Kick