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The Complete Works of   JAMES JOYCE

Page 132

by James Joyce


  An argument follows.

  Chuffy was a nangel then and his soard fleshed light like like-ning. Fools top ! Singty, sangty, meekly loose, defendy nous from prowlabouts. Make a shine on the curst. Emen.

  But the duvlin sulph was in Glugger, that lost-to-lurning. Punct. He was sbuffing and sputing, tussing like anisine, whip-ping his eyesoult and gnatsching his teats over the brividies from existers and the outher liubbocks of life. He halth kelchy chosen a clayblade and makes prayses to his three of clubs. To part from these, my corsets, is into overlusting fear. Acts of feet, hoof and jarrety: athletes longfoot. Djowl, uphere !

  Aminxt that nombre of evelings, but how pierceful in their so-jestiveness were those first girly stirs, with zitterings of flight re — leased and twinglings of twitchbells in rondel after, with waver — ings that made shimmershake rather naightily all the duskcended airs and shylit beaconings from shehind hims back. Sammy, call on. Mirrylamb, she was shuffering all the diseasinesses of the unherd of. Mary Louisan Shousapinas ! If Arck could no more salve his agnols from the wiles of willy wooly woolf! If all the airish signics of her dipandump helpabit from an Father Hogam till the Mutther Masons could not that Glugg to catch her by the calour of her brideness! Not Rose, Sevilla nor Citronelle; not Esmeralde, Pervinca nor Indra; not Viola even nor all of them four themes over. But, the monthage stick in the melmelode jawr, I am (twintomine) all thees thing. Up tighty in the front, down again on the loose, drim and drumming on her back and a pop from her whistle. What is that, O holytroopers? Isot givin yoe?

  Up he stulpled, glee you gees, with search a fling did die near sea, beamy owen and calmy hugh and if you what you my call for me I will wishyoumaycull for you.

  And they are met, face a facing. They are set, force to force. And no such Copenhague–Marengo was less so fated for a fall since in Glenasmole of Smiling Thrushes Patch Whyte passed O’Sheen ascowl.

  Arrest thee, scaldbrother! came the evangelion, sabre accu-sant, from all Saint Joan’s Wood to kill or maim him, and be dumm but ill s’arrested. Et would proffer to his delected one the his trifle from the grass.

  A space. Who are you? The cat’s mother. A time. What do you lack? The look of a queen.

  But what is that which is one going to prehend? Seeks, buzzling is brains, the feinder.

  The howtosayto itiswhatis hemustwhomust worden schall. A darktongues, kunning. O theoperil ! Ethiaop lore, the poor lie. He askit of the hoothed fireshield but it was untergone into the matthued heaven. He soughed it from the luft but that bore ne mark ne message. He luked upon the bloomingrund where ongly his corns were growning. At last he listed back to beckline how she pranked alone so johntily. The skand for schooling.

  With nought a wired from the wordless either.

  Item. He was hardset then. He wented to go (somewhere) while he was weeting. Utem. He wished to grieve on the good persons, that is the four gentlemen. Otem. And it was not a long time till he was feeling true forim he was goodda purssia and it was short after that he was fooling mehaunt to mehynte he was an injine ruber. Etem. He was at his thinker’s aunts to give (the four gentlemen) the presence (of a curpse). And this is what he would be willing. He fould the fourd; they found the hurtled stones; they fell ill with the gravy duck: and he sod town with the roust of the meast. Atem.

  Towhere byhangs ourtales.

  Ah ho ! This poor Glugg! It was so said of him about of his old fontmouther. Truly deplurabel ! A dire, O dire ! And all the freight-fullness whom he inhebited after his colline born janitor. Some — time towerable! With that hehry antlets on him and the bauble — light bulching out of his sockets whiling away she sprankled his allover with her noces of interregnation: How do you do tha-t lack a lock and pass the poker, please? And bids him tend her, lute and airly. Sing, sweetharp, thing to me anone! So that Glugg, the poor one, in that limbopool which was his subnesciousness he could scares of all knotknow whither his morrder had bourst a blabber or if the vogalstones that hit his tynpan was that mearly his skoll missed her. Misty’s trompe or midst his flooting? Ah, ho! Cicely, awe!

  The youngly delightsome frilles-inpleyurs are now showen drawen, if bud one, or, if in florileague, drawens up consociately at the hinder sight of their commoner guardian. Her boy fiend or theirs, if they are so plurielled, cometh up as a trapadour, sinking how he must fand for himself by gazework what their colours wear as they are all showen drawens up. Tireton, cacheton, tire-ton, ba! Doth that not satisfy youth, sir? Quanty purty bellas, here, Madama Lifay! And what are you going to charm them to, Madama, do say? Cinderynelly angled her slipper; it was cho chiny yet braught her a groom. He will angskt of them from their commoner guardian at next lineup (who is really the rapier of the two though thother brother can hold his own, especially for he bandished it with his hand the hold time, mamain, a simply gra-cious: Mi, O la !), and reloose that thong off his art: Hast thou feel liked carbunckley ones? Apun which his poohoor pricoxity theirs is a little tittertit of hilarity (Lad-o’-me-soul! Lad-o’-me-soul, see!) and the wordchary is atvoiced ringsoundinly by their toots ensembled, though not meaning to be clever, but just with a shrug of their hips to go to troy and harff a freak at himself by all that story to the ulstramarines. Otherwised, holding their noises, they insinuate quiet private, Ni, he make peace in his preaches and play with esteem.

  Warewolff! Olff! Toboo!

  So olff for his topheetuck the ruck made raid, aslick aslegs would run; and he ankered on his hunkers with the belly belly prest. Asking: What’s my muffinstuffinaches for these times? To weat: Breath and bother and whatarcurss. Then breath more bother and more whatarcurss. Then no breath no bother but wor-rawarrawurms. And Shim shallave shome.

  As Rigagnolina to Mountagnone, what she meaned he could not can. All she meaned was golten sylvup, all she meaned was some Knight’s ploung jamn. It’s driving her dafft like he’s so dumnb. If he’d lonely ta!k instead of only gawk as thought yate-man hat stuck hits stick althrough his spokes and if he woold nut wolly so! Hee. Speak, sweety bird! Mitzymitzy! Though I did ate tough turf I’m not the bogdoxy.

  — Have you monbreamstone?

  — No.

  — or Hellfeuersteyn?

  — No.

  — Or Van Diemen’s coral pearl?

  — No.

  He has lost.

  Off to clutch, Glugg! Forwhat! Shape your reres, Glugg! Foreweal! Ring we round, Chuff! Fairwell! Chuffchuff’s inners even. All’s rice with their whorl!

  Yet, ah tears, who can her mater be? She’s promised he’d eye her. To try up her pretti. But now it’s so longed and so fared and so forth. Jerry for jauntings. Alabye! Fled.

  The flossies all and mossies all they drooped upon her draped brimfall. The bowknots, the showlots, they wilted into woeblots. The pearlagraph, the pearlagraph, knew whitchly whether to weep or laugh. For always down in Carolinas lovely Dinahs vaunt their view.

  Poor Isa sits a glooming so gleaming in the gloaming; the tin-celles a touch tarnished wind no lovelinoise awound her swan’s. Hey, lass! Woefear gleam she so glooming, this pooripathete I solde? Her beauman’s gone of a cool. Be good enough to symper-ise. If he’s at anywhere she’s therefor to join him. If it’s to no — where she’s going to too. Buf if he’ll go to be a son to France’s she’ll stay daughter of Clare. Bring tansy, throw myrtle, strew rue, rue, rue. She is fading out like Journee’s clothes so you can’t see her now. Still we know how Day the Dyer works, in dims and deeps and dusks and darks. And among the shades that Eve’s now wearing she’ll meet anew fiancy, tryst and trow. Mammy was, Mimmy is, Minuscoline’s to be. In the Dee dips a dame and the dame desires a demselle but the demselle dresses dolly and the dolly does a dulcydamble. The same renew. For though she’s unmerried she’ll after truss up and help that hussyband how to hop. Hip it and trip it and chirrub and sing. Lord Chuffy’s sky sheraph and Glugg’s got to swing.

  So and so, toe by toe, to and fro they go round, for they are the ingelles, scattering nods as girls who may, for they are an angel’s garland.
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  Catchmire stockings, libertyed garters, shoddyshoes, quicked out with selver. Pennyfair caps on pinnyfore frocks and a ring on her fomefing finger. And they leap so looply, looply, as they link to light. And they look so loovely, loovelit, noosed in a nuptious night. Withasly glints in. Andecoy glants out. They ramp it a little, a lessle, a lissle. Then rompride round in rout.

  Say them all but tell them apart, cadenzando coloratura! R is Rubretta and A is Arancia, Y is for Yilla and N for greeneriN. B is Boyblue with odalisque O while W waters the fleurettes of no-vembrance. Though they’re all but merely a schoolgirl yet these way went they. I’ th’ view o’ th’avignue dancing goes entrancing roundly. Miss Oodles of Anems before the Luvium doeslike. So. And then again doeslike. So. And miss Endles of Eons efter Dies of Eirae doeslike. So. And then again doeslike. So. The many wiles of Winsure.

  The grocer’s bawd she slips her hand in the haricot bag, the lady in waiting sips her sup from the paraffin can, Mrs Wildhare Quickdoctor helts her skelts up the casuaway the flasht instinct she herds if a tinkle of tunder, the widow Megrievy she knits cats’ cradles, this bountiful actress leashes a harrier under her tongue, and here’s the girl who she’s kneeled in coldfashion and she’s told her priest (spt !) she’s pot on a chap (chp !) and this lass not least, this rickissime woman, who she writes foot fortunes money times over in the nursery dust with her capital thumb. Buzz. All run-away sheep bound back bopeep, trailing their teenes behind them. And these ways wend they. And those ways went they. Winnie, Olive and Beatrice, Nelly and Ida, Amy and Rue. Here they come back, all the gay pack, for they are the florals, from foncey and pansey to papavere’s blush, foresake-me-nought, while there’s leaf there’s hope, with primtim’s ruse and marry-may’s blossom, all the flowers of the ancelles’ garden.

  But vicereversing thereout from those palms of perfection to anger arbour, treerack monatan, scroucely out of scout of ocean, virid with woad, what tornaments of complementary rages rocked the divlun from his punchpoll to his tummy’s shentre as he dis-plaid all the oathword science of his visible disgrace. He was feeling so funny and floored for the cue, all over which girls as he don’t know whose hue. If goosseys gazious would but fain smile him a smile he would be fondling a praise he ate some nice bit of fluff. But no geste reveals the unconnouth. They’re all odds against him, the beasties. Scratch. Start.

  He dove his head into Wat Murrey, gave Stewart Ryall a puck on the plexus, wrestled a hurry-come-union with the Gillie Beg, wiped all his sinses, martial and menial, out of Shrove Sundy MacFearsome, excremuncted as freely as any frothblower into MacIsaac, had a belting bout, chaste to chaste, with McAdoo about nothing and, childhood’s age being aye the shameleast, tel a Tartaran tastarin toothsome tarrascone tourtoun, vestimentiv-orous chlamydophagian, imbretellated himself for any time un tellable with what hung over to the Machonochie Middle from the MacSiccaries of the Breeks. Home!

  Allwhile, moush missuies from mungy monsie, preying in his mind, son of Everallin, within himself, he swure. Macnoon maggoty mag! Cross of a coppersmith bishop! He would split. He do big squeal like holy Trichepatte. Seek hells where from yank islanders the petriote’s absolation. Mocknitza! Genik! He take skiff come first dagrene day overwide tumbler, rough and dark, till when bow of the shower show of the bower with three shirts and a wind, pagoda permettant, crookolevante, the bruce, the coriolano and the ignacio. From prudals to the secular but from the cumman to the nowter. Byebye, Brassolis, I’m breaving! Our war, Dully Gray! A conansdream of lodascircles, he here schlucefinis. Gelchasser no more! Mischnary for the minestrary to all the sems of Aram. Shimach, eon of Era. Mum’s for’s maxim, ban’s for’s book and Dodgesome Dora for hedgehung sheolmastress. And Unkel Silanse coach in diligence. Discon-nection of the succeeding. He wholehog himself for carberry banishment care of Pencylmania, Bretish Armerica, to melt Mrs Gloria of the Bunkers’ Trust, recorporated, (prunty!) by meteo-romancy and linguified heissrohgin, quit to hail a hurry laracor and catch the Paname–Turricum and regain that absendee tarry easty, his citta immediata, by an alley and detour with farecard awailable getrennty years. Right for Rovy the Roder. From the safe side of distance! Libera, nostalgia! Beate Laurentie O’Tuli, Euro pra nobis! Every monk his own cashel where every little ligger is his own liogotenente with inclined jambs in full purview to his pronaose and to the deretane at his reredoss. Fuisfinister, fuyerescaper! He would, with the greatest of ease, before of weighting midhook, by dear home trashold on the raging canal, for othersites of Jorden, (heave a hevy, waterboy!) make one of hissens with a knockonacow and a chow collegions and fire off, gheol ghiornal, foull subustioned mullmud, his farced epistol to the hibruws. From Cernilius slomtime prepositus of Toumaria to the clutch in Anteach. Salvo! Ladigs and jointuremen! No more turdenskaulds! Free leaves for ebribadies! All tinsammon in the yord! With harm and aches till farther alters! Wild primates not stop him frem at rearing a writing in handy antics. Nom de plume! Gout strap Fenlanns! And send Jarge for Mary Ink-lenders! And daunt you logh if his vineshanky’s schwemmy! For he is the general, make no mistake in he. He is General Jinglesome.

  Go in for scribenery with the satiety of arthurs in S.P.Q.R.ish and inform to the old sniggering publicking press and its nation of sheepcopers about the whole plighty troth between them, ma-lady of milady made melodi of malodi, she, the lalage of lyon — esses, and him, her knave arrant. To Wildrose La Gilligan from Croppy Crowhore. For all within crystal range.

  Ukalepe. Loathers’ leave. Had Days. Nemo in Patria. The Luncher Out. Skilly and Carubdish. A Wondering Wreck. From the Mer-maids’ Tavern. Bullyfamous. Naughtsycalves. Mother of Misery. Walpurgas Nackt.

  Maleesh! He would bare to untired world of Leimunconon-nulstria (and what a strip poker globbtrottel they pairs would looks!) how wholefallows, his guffer, the sabbatarian (might faction split his beard!), he too had a great big oh in the megafundum of his tomashunders and how her Lettyshape, his gummer, that congealed sponsar, she had never cessed at waking malters among the jemassons since the duft that meataxe delt her made her microchasm as gap as down low. So they fished in the kettle and fought free and if she bit his tailibout all hat tiffin for thea. He would jused sit it all write down just as he would jused set it up all writhefully rate in blotch and void, yielding to no man in hymns ignorance, seeing how heartsilly sorey he was, owning to the condrition of his bikestool. And, reading off his fleshskin and writing with his quillbone, fillfull ninequires with it for his auditers, Caxton and Pollock, a most moraculous jeeremyhead sindbook for all the peoples, under the presidency of the suchess of sceaunonsceau, a hadtobe heldin, thoroughly enjoyed by many so meny on block at Boyrut season and for their account ottorly admired by her husband in sole intimacy, about whose told his innersense and the grusomehed’s yoeureeke of his spectrescope and why he was off colour and how he was ambothed upon by the very spit of himself, first on the cheekside by Michelangelo and, besouns thats, over on the owld jowly side by Bill C. Babby, and the suburb’s formule why they provencials drollo eggspilled him out of his homety dometry nar-rowedknee domum (osco de basco de pesco de bisco!) because all his creature comfort was an omulette finas erbas in an ark finis orbe and, no master how mustered, mind never mend, he could neither swuck in nonneither swimp in the flood of cecialism and the best and schortest way of blacking out a caughtalock of all the sorrors of Sexton until he would accoster her coume il fou in teto-dous as a wagoner would his mudheeldy wheesindonk at their trist in Parisise after tourments of tosend years, bread cast out on waters, making goods at mutuurity, Mondamoiseau of Casanuova and Mademoisselle from ArmentiŠres. Neblonovi’s Nivonovio! Nobbio and Nuby in ennoviacion! Occitantitempoli! He would si through severalls of sanctuaries maywhatmay might-whomight so as to meet somewhere, if produced, on a demi pans — sion for his whole lofetime, payment in goo to slee music and poisonal comfany, following which, like Ipsey Secumbe, when he fingon to foil the fluter, she could have all the g. s. M. she moo-hooed after fore and rickwards to herslF, including science of sonoro
us silence, while he, being brung up on soul butter, have recourse of course to poetry. With tears for his coronaichon, such as engines weep. Was liffe worth leaving? Nej !

  Tholedoth, treetrene! Zokrahsing, stone! Arty, reminiscen-sitive, at bandstand finale on grand carriero, dreaming largesse of lifesighs over early lived offs — all old Sators of the Sowsceptre highly nutritius family histrionic, genitricksling with Avus and Avia, that simple pair, and descendant down on veloutypads by a vuncular process to Nurus and Noverca, those notorious nepotists, circumpictified in their sobrine census, patriss all of them by the glos on their germane faces and their socerine eyes like transparents of vitricus, patruuts to a man, the archimade levirs of his ekonome world. Remember thee, castle throwen? Ones propsperups treed, now stohong baroque. And oil paint use a pumme if yell trace me there title to where was a hovel not a havel (the first rattle of his juniverse) with a tingtumtingling and a next, next and next (gin a paddy? got a petty? gussies, gif it ope?), while itch ish shome.

 

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