Penguin Classics the Restored Finnegans Wake

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Penguin Classics the Restored Finnegans Wake Page 28

by James Joyce


  For the producer (Mr John Baptister Vickar) caused a deep abuliousness to descend upon the Father of Truants and, at a side issue, pluterpromptly brought on the scene the cutletsized consort, foundling filly of fortyshilling fostertailor and shipman’s shopahoyden, weighing ten pebble ten, scaling five footsy five, and spanning thirtyseven inchettes round the good companions, twentynine ditties round the wishful waistress, thirtyseven alsos round the answer to everything, twentythree of the same round each of the quis separabits, fourteen round the beginning of happiness and nicely nine round her shoed for slender.

  And eher you could pray mercy to goodness or help with your hokey or mehokeypoo, Gallus’s hen has collared her pullets. That’s where they have owreglias for. Their bone of contention, flesh to their thorns, prest as Prestissima, makes off in a thinkling (and not one hen only nor two hens nayther but every blessed brigid came aclucking and aclacking), while, a rum a rum, the ram of all harns, Bier, Wijn and Spirituosen for consumption on the premises, advokaat withouten pleaders, Mas marrit, Pas poulit, Ras ruddist of all, though flamifestouned from galantifloures, is hued and cried of each’s colour.

  Home all go. Halome. Blare no more ramsblares, oddmund barkes! And cease your fumings, kindalled bushies! And sherrygoldies, yeassyngnays; your wildeshaweshowe moves swiftly sterneward! For here the holy language. Soons to come. To pausse.

  ’Tis goed. Het best.

  For they are now tearing, that is, teartoretorning. Too soon are coming taskbooks and goody, hominy bread and bible bee with jaggery-yo and juju-jaw, Fine’s French phrases from the Grandmère des Grammaires and bothered parsenaps from the Four Massores, Mattatias, Marusias, Lucanias, Jokinias, and what happened to our eleven in thirtytwo antepostdating the Valgur Eire and why is limbo where is he and what are the sound waves saying that ceased ere they all wayed wrong and Amnist anguished axes Collis and where fishngaman fetched the mongafesh from and whatfor paddy-bird notplease rancoon and why was Sindat sitthing on his sitbom like a saildior, with what the doc did in the doil, not to mention define the hydraulics of common salt and, its denier crid of old provaunce, where G.P.O. is zentrum and D.U.T.C. are radients write down by the frequency of the scores and crores of your refractions the valuations in the pice of dinggyings on N.C.R. and S.C.R.

  That little cloud, a nibulissa, still hangs isky. Singabed sulks before slumber. Light at night has an alps on his druckhouse. Thick bread and thin butter or after you with me. Caspi, but gueroligue stings the air. Gaylegs to riot of us! Gallooks to lafft! What is amaid today todo? So angelland all weeping bin that Izzy most unhappy is. Fain Essie, fie onhapje? laughs her stella’s vispirine.

  While, running about their ways, going and coming, now at rhimba rhomba, now in trippiza trappaza, pleating a pattern Gran Geamatron showed them of gracehoppers, auntskippers and coneyfarm leppers, they jeerilied along, durian gay and marian maidcap, lou Dariou beside la Marieto, all boy more all girl singoutfeller longa house blong store Huddy, whilest nin nin nin nin that Boorman’s clock, a winny on the tinny side, ninned nin nin nin nin, about old Father Barley, of how he got up of a morning arley and he met with a plattonem blondes named Hips and Haws and fell in with a foxy fellows of Trinity some headder Skowood Shaws like (You’ll catch it, don’t fret, Mrs Tummy Laptin! Come indoor, Scoffynosey, and shed your swank!) auld Daddy Deacon who could stow well his place of beacon but he never could hold his kerosene’s candle to (The nurse’ll give it to you, stickypots! And you wait, my lasso, fecking the twine!) bold Farmer Burleigh who wuck up in a hurly wurly where he huddly could wuddle to wallow his weg tilbag of the baker’s booth to beg of (You’re well held now, Missy Cheekspeer, and your panto’s off! Fie, for shame, Ruth Wheatacre, after all the booz said!) illed Diddiddy Achin for the prize of a pease of bakin with a pinch of the panch of the ponch in jurys for (Ah, crabeyes, I have you, showing off to the world with that gape in your stocking!) wold Forrester Farley who, in deesperation of deispiration at the diasporation of his diesparation, was found of the round of the sound of the lound of the…

  Lukkedoerendunandurraskewdylooshoofermoyportertooryzooysphalna-bortansporthaokansakroidverjkapakkapuk.

  Byfall.

  Upploud!

  The play thou schouwburgst, Game, here endeth. The curtain drops by deep request.

  Uplouderamain!

  Gonn the gawds, Gunnar’s gustspells. When the h, who the hu, how the hue, where the huer? Orbiter onswers: lots lives lost. Fionia is fed up with Fidge Fudgesons. Sealand snorres. Rendningrocks roguesreckning reigns. Gwds with gnrs are gttrdmmrng. Hlls vlls. The timid hearts of words all exeomnosunt. Mannagad, lammalelouh, how do that come? By Dad, youd nat heed thet fert? Fulgituder ejist rowdownan tonuout. Qorq! And buncskleydoodle! Kidoosh! Of their fear they broke, they ate wind, they fled; where they ate there they fled; of their fear they fled, they broke away. Go to, let us extol Azrael with our harks, by our brews, on our jambses, in his gaits. To Mezouzalem with the Dephilim, didits dinkun’s dud? Yip! Yup! Yarrah! And let Nek Nekulon extol Mak Makal and let him say unto him: Immi ammi Semmi. And shall not Babel be with Lebab? And he war. And he shall open his mouth and answer: I hear, O Ismael, how thy laud is only as my loud is one. If Nekulon shall be havonfalled surely Makal haven hevens. Go to, let us extell Makal, yea, let us exceedingly extell. Though you have lien amung your posspots my excellency is over Ismael. Great is him whom is over Ismael and he shall mekanek of Mak Nakulon. And he deed.

  Uplouderamainagain!

  For the Clearer of the Air from on high has spoken in tumbuldum tambaldam to his tembledim tombaldoom worrild and, moguphonoised by that phonemanon, the unhappitents of the earth have terrerumbled from firmament unto fundament and from tweedledeedumms down to twiddle-deedees.

  Loud, hear us!

  Loud, graciously hear us!

  Now have thy children entered into their habitations. And nationglad, camp meeting over, to shin it, Gov be thanked! Thou hast closed the portals of the habitations of thy children and thou hast set thy guards thereby, even Garda Didymus and Garda Domas, that thy children may read in the book of the opening of the mind to thy light and err not in the darkness which is the afterthought of thy nomatter by the guardiance of those guards which are thy bodemen, the cheeryboyum chirryboth with the kerrybommers in their krubeems, Pray-your-Prayers Timothy and Back-to-Bunk Tom.

  Till tree from tree, tree among trees, tree over tree become stone to stone, stone between stones, stone under stone for ever.

  O Loud, hear the wee beseech of thees, of each of these thy unlitten ones! Grant sleep in hour’s time, O Loud!

  That they take no chill. That they do ming no merder. That they shall not gomeet madhowlattrees.

  Loud, heap miseries upon us yet entwine our arts with laughters low!

  Ha he hi ho hu.

  Mummum.

  As we there are where are we are we here haltagain. By recourse, of course, recoursing from Tomtittot to Teetootomtotalitarian. Tea tea too oo. Under et ubi.

  With his broad and hairy face, to Ireland a disgrace. Whomtil comes over. Who to caps ever. And howelse do we hook our hike to find that pint of porter place? Am shot, says the bigguard.1 Sic.

  Whence. Quick lunch, buy our lefts, wheel, to where. Long Livius Lane,

  Menly about peebles. mid Mezzofanti Mall, diagonising Lavatery Square, up Tycho Brahe Crescent,2 shouldering Berkeley’s Alley, querfixing Gainsborough Carfax, under Imaginable itinerary through the particular universal.

  Dont retch meat fat salt lard sinks down (and out). Guido d’Arezzo’s Gadeway, by New Livius Lane till where we whiled while we whithered. Old Vico Roundpoint. But fahr, be fear! And natural, simple, slavish, filial. The marriage of Montan wetting his moll, we know, like any enthewsyass cuckling a hoyden,3 in her rougey gipsylike chinkaminx’ pulsh-andjupeyjade and her petsybluse indecked o’ voylets.4 When who was wist was wan. En elv, et fjaell. And the whirr of the whins humming us howe. His hume. Hencetaking tides we haply return, trumpeted by prawns and ensigned with seakale, t
o befinding ourself when old is said in one and maker mates with made (O my!), having conned the cones and meditated the mured and pondered the pensils and ogled the olymp and delighted in her

  Swiney Tod, ye Daimon Barbar! dianaphous and cacchinated behind his culosses, afore a mosoleum, Length Withought Breath, of him, a chump of the evums, upshoot of picnic or stupor out of sopor, Cave of Kids or Hymanian Glattstonebury, denary, danery,

  Dig him in the rubsh! donnery, domm,5 who, entiringly as he continues highlyfictional, tumulous

  Ungodly old Ardrey Cronwall beeswaxing the convulsion box. under his chthonic exterior but plain Mr Tumulty in muftilife, in his antesipiences as in his recognisances, is (Dominic Directus) a manyfeast munificent more mob than man.

  Ain soph,1 this upright one, with that noughty besighedhim zeroine? To see in his horrorscup he is mehrkurios than saltz of sulphur. Terror of the noonstruck by day, cryptogam of each nightly bridable. But, to speak broken heaventalk, is he? Who is he? Whose is he? Why is he? Howmuch is he? Which is he? When is he? Where is he?2 How is he? And what the decans is there about him anyway, the decemt man? Easy, calm your haste! Approach to lead our passage! Constitution of the consstitutionable as constitutional.

  This bridge is upper.

  Cross.

  Thus come to castle.

  Knock.3

  A password, thanks.

  Yes, pearse.

  Well, all be dumbed!

  O really?4 Probapossible prolegomena to ideoreal history.

  Swing the banjo, bantams, bounce-the-baller’s blown to fook. Hoo cavedin earthwight

  At furscht krach of thunder.5

  When Shoo, his flutterby,

  Was netted and named.6

  Thsight near left me eyes when I seen her put thounce otay ithpot. Erdnacrusha, requiestress, wake em!

  And let luck’s puresplutterall lucy at ease!7

  To house as wise fool ages builded.

  Sow byg eat.8

  Quartandwds. Staplering to tether to, steppingstone to mount by; and coach house entrance as the Boote’s at Pickardstown. And that skimmelk steed still in the groundloftfan. As over all. Or be these wingsets leaned to the outwalls, beastskin trophies, of booth of Baws the balsamboards?9 Burials be bally-houraised! So let Bacchus e’en call! Inn inn! Inn inn! Where. The babbers Gnosis of precreate determination. Agnosis of postcreate determinism.

  Tickets for the Tailwaggers Terrierpuppy Raffle. ply the pen. The bibbers drang the den. The papplicom, the pubblicam, he’s turning tin for ten. From seldomers that most frequent him. That same erst crafty hakemouth which of foggy old, under the assumed name of Ignotus Loquor, harangued bellyhooting fishdrunks on their favourite

  Smith, no home. stamping ground from a fathertheobalder brake.1 Rolf the Ganger, Rough the Gangster, not a feature alike and the face the same.2 And Egyptus, the

  Mars speaking. incenstrobed, as Cyrus heard of him? And Major A. Shaw after he got the miner smellpex? And old Whiteman self, the blighty blotchy, beyond the bays, hope of Ostrogothic and Ottomanic father converters, despair of Pan-demia’s postwartem plastic surgeons, Hispano-Cathayan-Euxine, Castilian-Emeratic-Hebridian, Espanol-Cymric-Helleniky? But it was all so long ago. Pastimes are past times. Now let bygones be bei Gunne’s. Saa, leddies, er it in this warken werden, minne boerne, and it vild need olderwise3 since primal made alter in garden of Idem. The tasks above are as the flasks

  Non quod sed quiat. below, saith the Emerald Canticle of Hermes. And all’s loth and pleasestir, are we told, on excellent inkbottle authority, solarsystemised, seriolcosmically, in a more and more almightily expanding universe under one, there is rhymeless reason to believe, original sun. Securely judges orb

  Hearasay in paradox lust. terrestrial.4 Haud certo ergo. But O felicitous culpability, sweet bad cess to you for an archetypt!

  Honour commercio’s energy yet aid the linkless proud, the plurable with everybody and ech with pal, this ernst of Allsap’s ale hailaday of roaring month with its two lunar eclipses and its three saturnine settings! Horn of Heatthen, highbrowed! Brook of Life, bachfrish! Amnios amnium, fluminiculum flaminulinorum! We seek the Blessed One, the Harbourer-cum-Enheritance. Even Canaan the Hateful. Ever a-going, ever a-coming. Between a stare and a sough. Fossilisation, all branches.5 Archaic zelotypia and the odium teleologicum.

  Bags. Wherefore Petra sware unto Ulma: By the mortals’ frost! But Ulma sware

  Balls. unto Petra: On my veiny life!

  In theses places sojournemus, where Eblinn water, leased of carr and fen, leaving amont her shoals and salmonbrowses, whom inshore breezes woo with freshets, windeth to her broads. A phantom city, phaked of philim pholk, bowed and sould for a four of hundreds of manhood in their three The localisation of legend leading to the legalisation of latifudism.

  Move up, Mackinerny! Make room for Muckinurney! and threescore fylkers for a price partitional of twenty six and six. By this riverside of our sunnybank,1 how buona the vista, by Santa Rosa! A field of May, the very vale of Spring. Orchards here are lodged: sainted lawrels evremberried: you have a hoig view ashwald: a glen of marrons and of thorns: Gleannaulinn, Ardeevin: purty glint of plaising height. This Norman court at boundary of the ville, yon creepered tower of a church of Ereland, meet for true saints in worshipful assemblage,2 with our king’s house of stone, belgroved of mulbrey, the still that was mill and Kloster that was Yeomansland, the ghastcold tombshape of the quick foregone on, the loftleaved elm Lefanunian abovemansioned, each, every, all is for the retro-spectioner. Skole! Agus skole igen!3 Sweetsome as auburn cometh up as a selfreizing flower that fragolance of the fraisey beds: the phoenix, his pyre, is still flaming away with trueprattight spirit: the wren his nest is niedelig as the turrises of the Sabines are televisible. Here are the cottage and the bungalow for the cobbeler and the brandnewburgher:4 but Izolde, her

  In snowdrop, trou-de-dentelle, flesh and heliotrope. chaplet gardens, an litlee plads af liefest pose arride the wimmerful wonders off, the winnerful wonnerful wanders off,5 with hedges of ivy and hollywood and bower of mistletoe, are, tho if it theem tho and yeth if you pleathe, for the blithehaired daughter of Angoisse.6 All out of two barreny old perishers, Tytonyhands and Vlossyhair, a kilolitre in metromyriams. Presepeprosapia, the parent bole. Wone tabard, wine tap and warm tavern7 and, by ribbon development, from contact bridge to lease lapse, only two millium two humbered and eighty thausig nine humbered and sixty radiolumin

  Here’s our dozen cousins from the starves on tripes. lines to the wustworts of Finntown’s generous poet’s office. Distorted mirrage, aloofliest of the plain, wherein the boxomness of the bedelias8 makes hobbyhodge happy in his hole.9 The store and charter, Treetown Castle under Lynne. Rivapool? Hod a brieck on it! But its piers eerie, its span spooky, its toll but a till, its parapets all peripateting, D’Oblong’s by his by. Which we all pass. Pons. In our snoo. Znore. While we hitherward the thither. Schein. Shore. Which assoars us from the murk of the mythelated in the barrabelowther, bedevere butlered table round, past Morningtop’s necessity and Harington’s invention, to the clarience of the childlight in the studiorium upsturts. Here we’ll dwell on homiest powers, love at the latch with novices nig and nag. The chorus: the principals. For the rifocillation of their inclination to the manifestation of irritation: doldorboys and doll.1 After sound, light and heat, memory, will and understanding.

  Here (the memories framed from walls are minding) till wranglers for wringwrowdy wready are, F ,at gaze, respecting, fourteenth baronet, Preausteric man and his pursuit of panhysteric woman.

  Bet you fippence, anythesious, there’s no puggatory, are yous game? meet, altrettanth bancorot, chaff, and ere commence commencement catalaunic when Aetius’s check chokewill Attil’s gambit (that buxon breezeup, give it a burl!), lead us seek, O june of eves the jenniest, thou who fleest ficklesome the fond fervid frondeur to thickly thyself attach with thine self-teased ensuer,2 ondrawer of our unconscionable, flickerflapper fore our unterdrugged,3 lead us seek, lote us see, light us fi
nd, let us miss not Maida-date, Mimosa Multimimetica, the maymeaminning of maimoomeining! Elpis, thou fountain of the greeces, all shall speer theeward,4 from kongen in his canteenhus to knivers hind the knoll. Ausonius Audacior and gael,

  There was a sweet hopeful culled Cis. gillie, gall.5 Singalingalying. Storiella as she is syung. Whence, plutonically pursuant on briefest glimpse from gladrags, followeup with endspeaking nots for yestures pretty Proserpronette whose slit satchel spilleth peas.

  Belisha beacon, beckon bright! Usherette, unmesh us! That grene ray of earong it waves us to yonder as the red, blue and yellow flogs time on the domisole,6 with a blewy blow and a windigo. Where flash becomes word and silents selfloud. To trace congeners, trebly bounden and asservaged twainly. Adamman,7 Emhe, Issossianusheen and sometypes Yggely ogs Weib. Uwayoei!8 So mag this sybilette be our shibboleth that we may Urges and widerurges in a primitive sept.

  The Big Bear bit the Sailor’s Only. Trouble, trouble, trouble. syllable her well! Vetus may be occluded behind the mou in Veto but Nova will be nearing as their radient among the Nereids. A one of charmers, ay, Una Unica. Charmers who, under the branches of the elms, in shoes as yet

  Forening Unge Kristlike Kvinne. unshent by stoniness, wend, went, will wend a way of honey myrrhs and rambler roses, mistymusky, while still the Maybe mantles the meiblumes fore ever her If has faded from the fleur,1 their arms enlocked

 

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