Finnegans Wake - James Joyce [277]
— I will. I did. They were. I swear. Like the heavenly militia. So wreek me Ghyllygully ! With my tongue through my toecap on the headlong stone of kismet if so ’tis the will of Whose B. Dunn.
— Weepin Lorcans! They must have put in some wonderful work, ecad, on the quiet like, during this arms’ parley, meatierities forces vegateareans. Dost thou not think so?
— Ay.
file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
— The illegallooking range or fender, alias turfing iron, a product of Hostages and Co, Engineers, changed feet several times as briars revalvered during the weaponswap? Piff?
— Puff! Excuse yourself. It was an ersatz lottheringcan.
— They did not know the war was over and were only bere-belling or bereppelling one another by chance or necessity with sham bottles, mere and woiney, as betwinst Picturshirts and Scutticules, like their caractacurs in an Irish Ruman to sorowbrate the expeltsion of the Danos? What sayest thou, scusascmerul?
— That’s all. For he was heavily upright man, Limba romena in Bucclis tucsada. Farcing gutterish.
— I mean the Morgans and the Dorans, in finnish?
— I know you don’t, in Feeney’s.
— The mujic of the footure on the barbarihams of the bashed? Co Canniley?
— Da Donnuley.
— Yet this war has meed peace? In voina viritas. Ab chaos lex, neat wehr?
— O bella! O pia! O pura! Amem. Handwalled amokst us. Thanksbeer to Balbus!
— All the same you sound it twould clang houlish like Hull hopen for christmians?
— But twill cling hellish like engels opened to neuropeans, if you’ve sensed, whole the sum. So be vigil!
— And this pattern pootsch punnermine of concoon and proprey went on, hog and minne, a whole whake, your night after larry’s night, spittinspite on Dora O’Huggins, ormonde caught butler, the artillery of the O’Hefferns answering the cavalry of the MacClouds, fortey and more fortey, a thousand and one times, according to your cock and a biddy story? Lludillongi, for years and years perhaps?
— That’s ri. This is his largos life, this is me timtomtum and this is her two peekweeny ones. From the last finger on the second foot of the fourth man to the first one on the last one of the first. That’s right.
— Finny. Vary vary finny!
file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
— It may look funny but fere it is.
— This is not guid enough, Mr Brasslattin. Finging and tonging and winging and ponging! And all your rally and ramp and rant! Didget think I was asleep at the wheel? D’yu mean to tall grand jurors of thathens of tharctic on your oath, me lad, and ask us to believe you, for all you’re enduring long terms, with yur last foot foremouthst, that yur moon was shining on the tors and on the cresties and winblowing night after night, for years and years perhaps, after you swearing to it a while back before your Corth examiner, Markwalther, that there was reen in planty all the teem?
— Perhaps so, as you grand duly affirm, Robman Calvinic. I never thought over it, faith. I most certainly think so about it. I hope. Unless it is actionable. It would be a charity for me to think about something which I must on no caste accounts omit, if you ask to me. It was told me as an inspired statement by a friend of myself, in reply to salute, Tarpey, after three o’clock mass, with forty ducks indulgent, that some rain was promised to Mrs Lyons, the invalid of Aunt Tarty Villa, with lots gulp and sousers and likewise he told me, the recusant, after telling mass, with two hundred genuflexions, at the split hour of blight when bars are keeping so sly, as was what’s follows. He is doing a walk, says she, in the feelmick’s park, says he,