Penguin Classics the Restored Finnegans Wake

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Penguin Classics the Restored Finnegans Wake Page 36

by James Joyce


  TAFF (awary that the first sports report of Loundin Reginald has now been afterthoughtfully colliberated by a saggind spurts flash, takes the dipperend direction and, for tasting the tiomor of malaise after the pognency of orangultonia, orients by way of Sagittarius towards Draco on the Lour): And you collier carsst on him, the corsar, with Boyle, Burke and Campbell, I’ll gogemble on Strangbones tomb. You had just been cerberating a camp camp camp to Saint Sepulchre’s march through the armeemonds retreat with the boys all marshalled, scattering giant’s hail over the curseway, fellowed along the rout by the stenchions of the corpse. Tell the coldspell’s terroth! If you please, commeylad! Perfedes Albionias! Think some ingain think, as Teakortairer sate over the Galwegian caftan forewhen Orops and Aasas were chooldrengs and micramacrees! A forward movement, Miles na Bogaleen, and despatch!

  BUTT (slinking his coatsleeves surdout over his squad mutton shoulder so as to loop more life the jauntlyman as he scents the anggreget yup behound their whole scoopchina’s desparate noys’ totalage and explaining aposteriorly how awstooloo was valdesombre belowes hero and he was in a greak esthate phophiar an erixion on the soseptuple side of him made spoil apriopi his popoporportiums): Yass, zotnyzor, I don’t think I did not, pojr. Never you brother me for I scout it, thunk you! Ichts nichts on nichts! Greetest Schtschuptar! Me fol the rawlawdy in the schpirrt of a schkrepz. Of all the quirasses and all the qwehrmin in the tragedoes of those antiants their grandoper, that soun of a gunnong, with his sabaothsopolettes, smooking his scandleloose at botthends of him! Foinn duhans! I grandthinked after his obras after another time about the itch in his egondoom he was legging boldylugged from some pulversporochs and lyoking for a stooleazy for to nemesisplotsch allafranka and for to salubrate himself with an ultradungs heavenly mass at his base by a suprime pompship chorams the perished popes, the reverend and allaverred cromlecks, and when I heard his lewdbrogue reciping his cheap cheateary gospeds to sintry and santry and sentry and suntry I thought he was only haftara having afterhis brokeforths but be the homely Churopodvas I no sooner seen aghist of his frighteousness then I was bibbering with vear a few versets off, fooling for fiorg for my fifth foot. Of manifest ’tis obedience and the. Flute!

  TAFF (though the unglucksarsoun is ginning for to get him, jotning in, hoghly ligious, hapagodlap, like a soldiery sap, with a pique at his cue and a tyr in his eye and a bond of his back and a croak in his cry as did jolly well harm lean o’er him): Is not athug who would. Weepon, weeponder, song of sorrowmon! Which goatheye and sheepskeer they damnty well know. Papaist! Gambanman! Take the cawraidd’s blow! Yia! Your partridge’s last!

  BUTT (giving his scimmianised twinge in aknuckledownedgment of this cumulikick, strafe from the firetrench, studenly drobs led, satoniseels ouchyotchy, he changecors induniforms as he is lefting the gat out of the big: his face glows green, his hair greys white, his bleyes bcome broon to suite his cultic twalette): But when I seeing him in his oneship fetch along within hail, that tourrible tall with his nitshnykkopfgoknob, and attempting like a brandylogged rudeman cathargic, lugging up and laiding down his livepelts so cruschinly like Mebbuck at Messar and expousing his old skinful self tailtottom by manurevring in open ordure to renewmurature with the cowruads in their airish pleasantry, I thanked he was recovering breadth from some herdsquatters beyond the carcasses and I couldn’t erver nerver to tell a liard story not of I knew the prize if from lead or alimoney. But when I got inoccupation of a full view of his old basemiddelism, in ackshan, pagne pogne, by the veereyed lights of the stormtrooping clouds and in the sheenflare of the battleaxes of the heroim and mid the shieldfails awail of the bitteraccents of the sorafim, and caught the pfierce tsmell of his aurals, orankastank, a saphead setrapped, like Peder the Graste, altipaltar, my bill it forsooks allegiance (gut bull it!) and, no lie is this, I was babbering and yetaghain bubbering bibbelboy, me marrues me shkewers me gnaas me fiet, tob tob tob beat it, solongopatom. Clummensy if ever misused, must used you’s now! But, meac Coolp, Aram of Eirzerum, as I love our Deer Dirouchy, I confesses withould pridejealice when I looked upon the Saur of all the Haurousians with the weight of his arge fullin upon him from the travaillings of his tommuck and rueckenased the fates of a bosser there was fear on me the sons of Nuad for him and it was heavy he was for me then the way I immingled my Irmenial hairmairians ammongled his Gospolis fomiliours till, achaura moucreas, I adn’t the arts to.

  TAFF (as a marrer off act, prepensing how such waldmanns from Burnias seduced country clowns, he is preposing barangaparang after going knowing what he is doing after to see him pluggy well moidered as a murder effect, you bet your blowie knife, before he doze soze, sopprused though he is): Grot Zot! You hidn’t the hurts? Vott Fonn!

  BUTT (hearing somrother sudly give tworthree peevish sniff snuff snoores like govalise falseleep he waitawhishts to see might he stirs and then goes on kuldrum like without asking for pepeace or anysing a soul): Merzmard! I met with whom it was too late. My fate! O hate! Fairwail! Fear-wealing of the groan! And think of that when you smugs to bagot!

  TAFF (who meanwhilome at yarn’s length so as to put a nodje in the poestcher, by wile of stoccan his hand and of rooma makin ber getting umptyums gatherumed off the skattert, had been lavishing, lagan on lighthouse, words of silentgolden power, susu glouglou biribiri gongos, upon the repleted speechsalver’s innkeeping right which, thanks giveme and naperied norms nonobstaclant, there can be little doubt, have resulted in a momstchance ministring of another guidness, my good, to see): Bompromifazzio! Shumpum for Pa-li-di and oukosouso for the nipper dandy! Trink off this scup and be bladdy orafferteed! To bug at?

  BUTT (he whipedoff’s his chimbley phot as, lips lovecurling to the tongueopener, he takecups the communion of sense at the hands of the foregiver of trosstpassers and thereinofter centellinates, that potifex miximhost with haruspical hospedariaty proferring into his pauses somewhog salt bacon): Theres scares knud in this gnarld warld a fully so svend as dilates for the improvement of our foerses of nature by your very ample solvent of referacting upon me like is boesen fiennd.

  [The other foregottheneds aboosd in the Mullingaria are during this swishingsight teilweisioned. How the fictionable world in Fruzian Creamtartery is loading off heavy furses and affubling themselves with muckinstushes. The Neatschknee Novgolosh. How the spinach ruddocks are being tatoovatted up for the second comings of antigreenst. Hebeneros for Aromal Peace. How Alibey Ibrahim wisheths Bella Suora to a holy cryptmahs while the Arumbian Knives Riders axecutes devilances round the jehumispheure. Learn the Nunsturk. How Old Yales boys is making rebolutions for the cunning New Yirls, never elding, still begidding, never to mate to lend, never to ate selleries and never to add soulleries and never to ant sulleries and never to aid silleries with sucharow with sotchyouroff as Burkeley’s Show’s a ructiongetherall. Phone for Phineal toomellow aftermorn and your phumeral’s a roselixion.]

  TAFF (now as he has been past the buckthurnstock from Peadhar the Piper of Colliguchuna, whiles they all are bealting pots to dubrin din for old daddam dombstom to tomb and wamb humbs lumbs agamb, glimpse agam, glance agen, rise up road and hive up hill, and find your pollyvoulley foncey pitchin ingles in the parler): Since you are on for versing-rhetorish, say your piece! How Buccleuch shocked the rosing girnirilles. A ballet of Gatsy Power. A hov and a zov and off like a gow! And don’t live out the sad of tearfs, piddyawhick! Not offgott affsang is you, buthbach? Ath yetheredayth noth endeth, thay? Vaersegood! Buckle to! Sayyessik, Ballygarry! The fourscore soculums are watchyoumaycodding to cooll the skoopgoods blooff. Harkabuddy, feign! Thingman placeyear howed wholst somwom shimwhir tinkledinkledelled. Shinfine deed in the myrtle of the bog tway fainmain stod op to slog, free bond men lay lurkin on. Tuan about whattinghim! Fore sneezturmdrappen! ’Twill be a rpnice pschange, arrah, sir? Can you come it, budd?

  BUTT (who in the cushlows of his goodsforseeking hoarth, ever fondlinger of his pimple spurk, is a niallist of the ninth homestages, the babybell in his baggutstract upper going off allatwans
t, begad, lest he should challenge himself, bygoad, till angush): Horrasure, toff! As said as would. It was Colporal Phailinx first. Hittit was of another time, a white horsday where the midril met the bulg, sbogom, roughnow along about the first equinarx in the cholonder, on the plain of Khorason as thou goest from the mount of Bekel, Steep Nemorn, elve hundred and therety and to years how the krow flees end in deed, after a power of skimiskes, blodidens and godinats of them, when we sight the beats (hegheg whatlk of wraimy wetter!), moist moonful date man ever held dymsdzey death with, and higheye was in the Reilly Oirish Krzerszonese Milesia, asundurst Sirdarthar Woolwich-leagues, good tomkeys years somewhile in Crimealian wall same-where in Ayerland, during me weeping stillstumms over the fresh-prosts of Eastchept and the dangling garters of Marrowbone and daring my wapping stiltstunts on Bostion Moss, old stile and new style and heave a lep onwards. And winn again, blaguadargoos, or lues the day, plays goat, the banshee pealer, if moskats knows whoss whizz, the great day and the druidful day come San Patrisky and the grand day, the excellent fine splendorous long agreeable toast-worthy cylindrical day, go Sixt of the Ninth, the heptahundread annam dammias that Hajizfijjiz tells me is and will and was be till the timelag is in it that’s told in the Bok of Alam to columnkill all the prefacies of Erin gone brugk. But I cantenue. And incommixtion. We was lowsome like till we’d took out after the dead beats. So I begin to study and I soon show them day’s reasons how to give the cold shake to they blighty perishers and lay one over the beats. All feller he look he call all feller come longa villa finish. Toumbalo, how was I acclapadad! From them banjopeddlars on the raid. Gidding up me anti vanillas and getting off the stissas me aunties. Boxerising and coxerusing. And swiping a johnnydann sweept for to exercitise myself neverwithstanding the topkats and his roaming cartridges orussheying and patronning out all over Crummwilliam wall. Be the why it was me who haw haw.

  TAFF (all for letting his tinder and lighting be put to beheiss in the feuer and, while durblinly obasiant to the felicias of the skivis, still smolking his fulvurite turf kish in the rooking pressance of laddios): Yaa hoo how how, col? Whom battles joined no bottles sever! Worn’t you aid a comp?

  BUTT (in his difficoltous tresdobremient, he feels a bitvalike a baddlefall of staot but falls a batforlake a borrlefull of bare): And me awlphul omegrims! Between me rassociations in the postleadeny past and me disconnections with aplombpervious futules I’ve a boodle full of maimeries in me buzzim and medears runs sloze, bleime, as I now with platoonic leave recoil in (how the thickens they come back to one to rust!) me misenary post for all them old boyars that’s now boomaringing in waulholler, me alma marthyrs. I dring to them, bycorn spirits fuselaiding and you cullies adjutant, even where its contentsed wody, with absents wehrmuth. Junglemen in agleement, I give thee our greatly swooren, Theoccupant that Rueandredful, the Thronefollower and all our royal devouts with the arrest of the whole inhibitance of Neuilands! One brief mouth. And a velligoolapnow! Meould attashees, the currgans (if they could get a kick at this time for all that’s hapenced to us!), Cedric said Gormleyson and Danno O’Dunnochoo and Conno O’Cannochar it is these were their names, for we were all under that manner barracksers in Kong Gores Wood together, thurkmen three, with those khakireinettes, our miladies in their toileries, the twum plumyumnietcies (Vjeras Vjenaskayas) of old Djadja Uncken who was a great mark for jinking and junking, to the palposes of womth and wamth, we war, and the charme of their lyse brocade. For lispias harth a burm in eye but whem it bames fire norone screeneth. Hulp, hulp, huzzars! Raise ras tryracy! Freetime’s free! Up Lancesters! Anathem!

  TAFF (who still senses that heavinscent houroines that entertrained him who they were sinuorivals from the sunny Espionia but plied wopsy with his wallets in thatthack of the bustle of Bakerloo (11.32), passing the uninational truthbosh in smoothing irony over the multinotcheralled infructuosities of his grinner set): The rib, the rib, the quean of oldbyrdes! Sinya Sonyavitches! Your Rhoda Cockardes that are raday to embrase our ruddy inflamtry world! In their Khosililesvienne biribarbebeway. Till they’ve kinks in their tringers and boils on their taws. Whor dor the pene lie, Mer Pencho? Ist dramhead countmortial or gonorrhal stab? Mind your pughs and keoghs now, if you piggots, marsh! Do the nut, dingbut! Be a dag! For zahur and zimmerminnes! Sing the chorias to the ethur!

  [In the heliotropical noughttime following a fade of transformed Tuff and, pending its viseversion, a metenergic reglow of beaming Batt, the bairdboard bombardment screen of tastefully taut guranium satin tends to teleframe and step up to the charge of a light barricade. Down the photoslope in syncopanc pulses, with the bitts bugtwug their teffs, the missledhropes glitteraglatteraglutt, borne by their carnier walve. A spraygun rakes and splits them from a double focus: grenadite, damnymite, alextronite, nichilite: and the scanning firespot of the sgunners traverses the rutilanced illustred sunksundered lines. Shlossh! A gaspel truce leaks out over the caeseine coatings. Amid a fluorescence of spectracular mephiticism there caoculates through the iconoscope stealdily a still, the figure of a fellowchap in the wohly ghast, Popey O’Donoshough, the jesuneral of the russuates. The idolon exhibisces the seals of his orders: the stare of the Son of Heaven, the girtle of Izodella the Calottica, the crosse of Mikelides Apaleologos, the latchet of Jan of Nepomuk, the puffpuff and pompom of Powther and Pall, the great belt, band and bucklings of the Martyrology of Gorman. It is for the castomercies mudwake surveice. The victar. Pleace to notnoys speach above your dreadths, please to doughboys. Hll, smthngs gnwrng wthth sprsncswtch! He blanks his oggles because he confesses to all his tellavicious nieces. He blocks his nosoes because that he confesses to everywheres he was always putting up his latest faengers. He wollops his mouther with a sword of tusk in as because that he confesses how opten he used be obening her and howonton he used be undering her. He boundles alltogodder his manucupes with his pedarrests inasmuch as because that he confesses before all his handcomplishies and behind all his comfoderacies. And (hereis cant came back saying he codant steal no lunger, yessis, catz come buck beqeues he caudant stail awake) he touched upon this tree of livings in the middenst of the garerden for inasmuch as because that he confessed to it on Hillel and down Dalem and in the places which the leopards inhabit and in the place of the stones and in pontofert, jusfuggadding amoret, now he come to think of it, jolly well ruttengenerously olyovyover the ole blucky shop. Pugger old Pumpey O’Dungaschiff! There will be a hen collection of him after avensung on the field of Hanar. Dumble down, looties and gengstlermen! Dtin dtin, dtin dtin!]

  BUTT (with a gisture expansive of Mr Lhugewhite Cadderpollard with sunflawered beautonhole pulled up point blanck by mailbag mundaynism at Oldbally Court though the hissindensity backfar of his melovelance tells how when he was fast marking his first lord for cremation the whyfe of his bothem was the very lad’s thing to elter his mehind): Prostatates, pujealousties! Dovolnoisers, prayshyous! Defense in every circumstancias of deboutcheries no the chaste daffs! Packpickets, pioghs and kughs to be palseyputred! Be at the peme, prease, of not forgetting or mere betoken yourself to hother prace! Correct me, pleatze commando, for cossakes but I abjure of it. No more basquibezigues for this pole aprican! With askormiles’ eskermillas. I had my billyfell of duckish delights the whole pukny time on rawmeots and juliannes with their lambstoels in my kiddeneys and my ramsbutter in their sassenacher ribs, knee her, do her and trey her, when th’osirian cumb dumb like the whalf on the fiord and we preying players and pinching peacesmokes, troupkers tomiatskyns all, for Father Petrie Spence of Parishmoslattary to go and leave us and the crimsend daun to shellalite on the darkumen (scene as signed, Slobabogue), feeding and sleeping on the huguenottes (the snuggest spalniel’s where the lieon’s tame!) and raiding revolations over the allbegeneses (sand us and saint us and sound as agun!). Yet still in all, spit for spat, like we chantied on Sunda schoon, every warson wearrier kaddies a komnate in his schnapsack and unlist I am getting foegutfulls of the rugiments of savaliged wildfire I was gamefellow willmate and send us victorias wi
th nowells and brownings, dumm, sneak and curry, and all the fun I had in that fanagan’s week. A strange man wearing abarrel. And here’s a gift of meggs and teggs. And as I live by chipping nortons. And ’tis iron fits the farmer, ay. Arcdesedo! Renborumba! Them were the hellscyown days for our fellows, the loyal leibsters, and we was the redugout rawrecruitioners, praddies three and prettish too, a wheeze we has in our wayndward islands, wee engrish, one long blue streak, jisty and pithy af durck rosolun, with hand to hand as Homard Kayenne was always jiggilyjugging about in his wendowed courage when our woos with the wenches went wined for a song, tsingirillies’ zyngarettes, while Woodbine Willie, so popiular with the popprossies, our Chorney Choplain, blued the air. Sczlanthas! Banzaine! Bissbasses! S. Pivorandbowl! And we all tuned in to hear the topmast noviality. Up the revels, drown the rinks and almistips all round! Paddy Bonhamme he vives! Encore! And tig for tag. Togatogtug. My droomodose days I loved you abover all thistrest. Blowhole brasshat and boy with his boots off and the butch of our bunch and all. It was buckoo bonzer, beleeme. I was a bare prive without my doglegs but I did not give to one humpenny dump, wingh or wangh, touching those thusengaged slavey generales of Tanah Kornalls, the meelisha’s deelishas, pronouncing their very flank movemens in sunpictorsbosk. Baghus the whatwar! I could always take good cover of myself. And, eyedulls or earwakers, preyers for rain or comminations, I did not care three tanker’s hoots (sham! hem! or chaffit!) for any feelings from my lifeprivates on their reptrograd leanins because I have Their Honours booth my respectables soeurs assistershood off Lyndhurst Terrace, the puttih Misses Celana Dalems, and she in vinting her angurr can belle the troth on her alliance and I know His Heriness, my respeaktoble medams culonelle on Mellay Street, Lightnints Gundhur Sawabs, and they would never as the aimees of servation let me down. Not on your bludger life, touters! No peeping, pimpadoors! And, by Jova, I never went wrong nor let him doom till, risky wark rasky wolk, at the head of the wake, up come stumblebum (ye olde cottemptable!), his urssian gemenal, in his scutt’s rudes unreformed and he went before him in that nemcon enchelonce with the same old domstoole story and his upleave the fallener as is greatly to be petted (whitesides do his beard!) and I seen his brichashert’s offensive and his boortholomas vadnhammaggs vise a vise them scharlot runners and how they gave love to him and how he took the ward from us (odious! the fly fly flurtation of his him and hers! just mairmaid maddeling it was it he was!) and, my oreland for a rolvever, sord, by the splunthers of colt and bung goes the enemay, the Percy rally got me, messger (as true as theirs an Almagnian Gothabobus!) to blow the grand off his aceupper. Thistake, it’s meest! And after meath the dulwich. We insurrectioned and, be the procuratress of the hory synnotts, before he could tell pullyirragun to parrylewis, I shuttm, missus, like a wide sleever! Hump to dump! Tumbleheaver!

 

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