Finnegans Wake - James Joyce [214]
And no damn loutll come courting thee or by the mother of the Holy Ghost there’ll be murder!
O, come all ye sweet nymphs of Dingle beach to cheer Brinabride queen from Sybil surfriding
In her curragh of shells of daughter of pearl and her silverymonnblue mantle round her.
file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
Crown of the waters, brine on her brow, she’ll dance them a jig and jilt them fairly.
Yerra, why would she bide with Sig Sloomysides or the grogram grey barnacle gander?
You won’t need be lonesome, Lizzy my love, when your beau gets his glut of cold meat and hot soldiering
Nor wake in winter, window machree, but snore sung in my old Balbriggan surtout.
Wisha, won’t you agree now to take me from the middle, say, of next week on, for the balance of my days, for nothing (what?) as your own nursetender?
A power of highsteppers died game right enough—but who, acushla, ‘ll beg coppers for you?
I tossed that one long before anyone.
It was of a wet good Friday too she was ironing and, as I’m given now to understand, she was always mad gone on me. Grand goosegreasing we had entirely with an allnight eiderdown bed picnic to follow.
By the cross of Cong, says she, rising up Saturday in the twilight from under me, Mick, Nick the Maggot or whatever your name is, you’re the mose likable lad that’s come my ways yet from the barony of Bohermore.
Mattheehew, Markeehew, Lukeehew, Johnheehewheehew! Haw! And still a light moves long the river. And stiller the mermen ply their keg. Its pith is full. The way is free. Their lot is cast. So, to john for a john, johnajeams, led it be!
III
Hark !
file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
Tolv two elf kater ten (it can’t be) sax.
Hork!
Pedwar pemp foify tray (it must be) twelve.
And low stole o’er the stillness the heartbeats of sleep. White fogbow spans. The arch embattled. Mark as capsules. The nose of the man who was nought like the nasoes. It is self tinted, wrinkling, ruddled. His kep is a gorsecone. He am Gascon Titubante of Tegmine —
sub — Fagi whose fixtures are mobiling so wobiling befear my remembrandts. She, exhibit next, his Anastashie. She has prayings in lowdelph. Zeehere green egg-brooms. What named blautoothdmand is yon who stares? Gu— gurtha! Gugurtha! He has becco of wild hindigan. Ho, he hath hornhide! And hvis now is for you. Pens‚e! The most beautiful of woman of the veilch veilchen veilde. She would kidds to my voult of my palace, with obscidian luppas, her aal in her dhove’s suckling. Apagemonite ! Come not nere ! Black ! Switch out !
Methought as I was dropping asleep somepart in nonland of where’s please (and it was when you and they were we) I heard at zero hour as
’twere the peal of vixen’s laughter among mid-night’s chimes from out the belfry of the cute old speckled church tolling so faint a goodmantrue as nighthood’s unseen violet rendered all animated greatbritish and Irish objects nonviewable to human watchers save ’twere perchance anon some glistery gleam darkling adown surface of affluvial flowandflow as again might seem garments of laundry reposing a leasward close at hand in full expectation. And as I was jogging along in a dream as dozing I was dawdling, arrah, methought broadtone was heard and the creepers and the gliders and flivvers of the earth breath and the dancetongues of the woodfires and the hummers in their ground all vociferated echoating: Shaun! Shaun! Post the post! with a high voice and O, the higher on high the deeper and low, I heard him so! And lo, mescemed somewhat came of the noise and somewho might amove allmurk. Now, ’twas as clump, now mayhap. When look, was light and now