by James Joyce
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, malady of milady made melodi of malodi, she, the lalage of lyonesses, and him, her knave arrant. To Wildrose La Gilligan from Croppy Crowhore. For all within crystal range.
Ukalepe. Loathers’ Lave. Had Days. Nemo in Patria. The Luncher Out. Skilly and Carubdish. A Wondering Wreck. From the Mermaids’ Tavern. Bullyfamous. Naughseecalves. Mother of Misery. Walpurgas Nackt.
Maleesh! He would bare to untired world of Leimunconnulstria (and what a strip poker globbtrottel they pairs would looks!) how Wholephallows, his guffer, the sabbatarian (might faction split his beard!), he too had a greak big oh in the megafundum of his tomashunders and how Her Lettyshape, his gummer, that congealieel sponsar, she had never cessed at waking malters among the jemassons since the cluft 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 tallibont all had tiffin for tea. He would jused sit it all write down just as he would jused set it up all writhefully rate in blotch and voide, yielding to no man in hymns ignorance, seeing how heartsilly sorey he was, owning to the condrition of his bikestool. And, reading off his flesh-skin and writing with his quillbone, fillfull nine quires with it for his auditers, Caxton and Pollock, a most moraculous jeerymyhead, sindbook for all the peoples, under the presidency of the suchess of sceauonsceau, a had-tobe 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 cheakside by Michelangelo and then, besouns thats, on the owld jowly side by Bill C. Babby, and the suburb’s formule why they provencials drollo eggspilled him out of his homety domety narrowedknee domum (osco de basco de pesco de bisco!) because all his creature comfort was an omulette finas erbas in anark finis orbe and, no master how mustered, mind never mend, he would neither swink in nonneither swimp in the flood of cecialism and the best and schortest way of blacking out a caughtalook 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, breads cast out on waters, making goods at mutuurity, Mondamoiseau of Casanuova and Mademoiselle from Armentières. Neblonovi’s Nivonovio! Nobbio and Nuby in ennoviacion! Occitantitempoli! He would sit through severalls of sanctuaries maywhatmay mightwhomight so as to meet somewhere, if produced, on a demipanssion for his whole lofetime, payment in gootoslee Music and poisonal comfany, following which, like Ipsey Secumbe, when he fing an to foil the fluter, she could have all the g. s. M. she moohooed after fore and rickwards to herslF, including science of sonorous silence, while he, being brung up on soul butter, have recourse of course to poetry. With, for his coronachion, tears such as engines weep. Was liffe worth leaving? Nej!
Tholedoth, treetrene! Zokrahsing, stone!
Arty, reminiscensitive, at bandstand finale on grand carriero, dreaming largesse of lifesighs over early lived offs—all old Sator of the Sowsceptre’s 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 stohony 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 tingtumtingaling and a next, next and next (gin a paddy? got a petty? gussies, gif it ope?), while itch ish shome.
— My Cod, alas, that dear old tumtum home
Whereof in youthfood’s port I preyed
Amonk thy verdigrassy convinct wallsall dazed
And cloitered for amourmeant in thy boosome shede!
His mouthfull of ecstasy (for Shing-Yung-Thing in Shina from Yoruyume across the Timor Sea), hereapong (maladventure!) shot pinging upthrough the errorooth of his wisdom (who thought him a Fonar all, feastking of shellies by googling Lovvey, regally feythered, eagelly plumed, and wasbut gumboil owrithy prods wretched some horsey megee plods coffin acid odarkery pluds dense floppens mugurdy) as thought it had been zawhen intwo. Wholly’s anguish blooded up disconvulsing the fixtures of his fizz. Apang which his temporychewer med him a crazy chump of a Haveajube Sillsyass. Joshua Croesus, son of Nunn! Though he shall live for millions of years a life of billions of years, from their roseaced glows to their violast lustres, he shall not forget that pucking Pugases. Holihowlsballs and bloody acres! Like gnawthing unheardth!
But, by Jobe, Chronides, Seed of Summ, after at he had bate his breast-plates for, forfor, forforget, forforgetting his birdsplace, it was soon that, that he, that he rehad himself. By a prayer? No, that comes later. By contrite attrition? Nay, that we passed. Mid esercizism? So is richt.
And it was so. And Malthos Moramor resumed his soul. With: Go Ferchios off to Allad out of this! An oldsteinsong. He threwed his fit up to his aers, rolled his poligone eyes, snivelled from his snose and blew the guff out of his hornypipe. The hopjoint jerk of a ladle broom jig that he learned in locofoco when a redhot turnspite he. Under reign of old Roastin the Bowl. Ratskillers, readyos! Why was that man for he’s doin her wrong? Lookery looks, how he’s knots in his entrails! Mookery mooks, it’s a grippe of his gripes. Seekeryseeks, why his biting he’s head off? Cokerycokes, it’s his spurt of coal. And may his tarpitch dilute not give him chromitis! For the mauwe that blinks you blank is mostly Carbo. Where the inflammabilis might pursuive his comburenda with a pure flame and a true flame and a flame all-toogasser. Soot. The worst is over. Wait! And the Dubuny Mag may gang to preesses. With Dinny Finneen, me canty ho! In the lost of the gleamens. Sousymoust. For he would himself deal a treatment as might be trusted in anticipation of his inculmination unto fructification for the major operation.
When (pip!) a message interfering intermitting interskips from them (pet!) on herzian waves (call her venicey names! call her a stell!), a butterfly from her zipclasped handbag, a wounded dove astarted from, escaping out her forecotes. Isle wail for yews, O doherlynt! The poetesser. And around its scorched cap she has twilled a twine of flame to let the laitiest know how she’s marrid. And pim it goes backballed. Tod burns it so leste. A claribel cumbeck to errind. Hers before his even, posted ere penned. He’s your change, thinkyou methim! Go daft noon, madden, mind the step. Please stoop O to please. Stop. What saying? I have soreunder from to him now, dearmate ashore, so, O so comepleasely, though I’d much rather not, Pepette, till I can get redressed. Like things are, m.ds. is all in vincibles, which means the end of my stays in the languish of Tingtangle. Is you zealous of mes, brother? Did you boo moiety lowd? You suppoted to be the on conditionally reejected? Satanly, lade! Can that sobstuff, Whingeywilly! Stop up, mavrose, and sit in my lap. Decoded.
Now a run for his money! Now a dash to her dot! Old cocker, young crowy, sifadda, sosson. A bran, new speedhound, outstripperous on the wind. Like a waft to wingweary one or a sos to a coastguard. For directly with his whoop, stoop and an upalepsy didando a tishy, in appreciably less time than it takes a glaciator to submerger an Atlangthis, was he again, agob, before the trembly ones, a spark’s gap off, doubledasguesched, gotten orlop in a simplasailormade and shaking the storm out of his hiccups. The smartest vessel you could find would elazilee him on her knee as her lucky for the Rio Grande. He’s a pigtail tarr and if he hadn’t got it toothick he’d a telltale tall of his pitcher on a wall with his photure in the papers for cutting moutonlegs and capers, letting on he’d jest be japers and his tail cooked up.
Goal! It’s one by its length.
Angelinas, hide from light th
ose hues that your ain beau may bring to night! Though down to your dowerstrip he’s bent to knee he maun’t know ledgings here.
For a haunting way will go and you need not make your mow. Find the frenge for frocks and translace it into shocks of such as touch with show and show.
He is guessing at hers for all he is worse, the seagoer. Hark to his wily geeses goosling by, and playfair, lady! And note that they who will for exile say can for dog while them that won’t leave ingle end says now for know.
For he faulters how hehates to trouble them withbut.
But leaving codhead’s mitre and the heron’s plumes sinistrant to the server of servants and rex of regums and making a balderdash for lubberty of speech, he asks not have you seen a match being struck nor is this powder mine but, letting punplay pass to ernest:
— Haps thee jaoneofergs?
— Nao.
— Haps thee mayjaunties?
— Naohao.
— Haps thee per causes nunsibellies?
— Naohaohao.
— Asky, asky! Gau on! Micaco! Get!
Ping an ping nwan ping pwan pong.
And he did a get, their anayance, and slink his hook away, aleguere come alaguerre, like a chimista in chamisas, whom the harricana hurries and hotz foots, zingo zango, segur! To hoots of utskut, urqurd, jamal, qum, yallah, yawash, yak! For he could ciappacioppachew upon a skarp snakk of pure undefallen engelsk, melanmoon or tartatortoise, tsukisaki or soppisuppon, as raskly and as baskly as your cheesechalk cow cudd spanich. Makoto! Whagta kriowday! Gelagala nausy is. Yet right divining do not was. Hovobovo hafogate hokidimatzi ni kamicha! He had his sperrits all foulen on him; to vet, most griposly, he was bedizzled and debuzzled; he had his tristiest cabaleer on; and he looked like bruddy Hal. A shelling a cockshy and be donkey shot at? Or a peso besant to join the armada?
But, Sin Showpanza, could annybroddy which walked this world with eyes whiteopen have looked twinsomer than the kerl he left behind him? Candidatus, viridosus, aurilucens, sinelab! Of all the green heroes everwore cotan breiches, the whitemost, the goldenest! How he stud theirs with himselfs mookst kevinly, and that anterevolitionary, the churchman childfather from tonsor’s tuft to almonder’s toes, a hajjiography in duotrijesumy, son soptimost of sire sixtusks, of Mayaqueenies signosure, hevnly buddhy time, inwreathed of his nearcissies, a mickly dazzley eely oily with looiscurrals, a soulnetzer by zvesdals priestessd, their trail the tractive (and dem dandy-panies knows de play of de eyelids), with his gamecox spurts and his smile likuid glue (the suessiest sourir ever weanling wore), whiles his host of faceful spritties, lusspillerindernees, they went peahenning a ripidarapidarpad around him, pilgrim prinkips, kerilour kevinour, in neuchoristic congressulations, quite purringly excited, rpdrpd, allauding to him by all the licknames in the litany with the terms in which no little dulsy nayer ever thinks about implying except to her future’s yea and sending him perfume-most praypuffs to setisfire more then to teasim (shllwe help, now you’ve massmuled, you t’rigolect a bit? yismik? yimissy?) that he, the finehued, the fairhailed, the farahead, might bouchesave unto each but everyone, asfar as safras durst assune, the havemercyonhurs of his kissier licence. Meanings: Andure the enjurious till imbettrer. We know you like Latin with essies impures (and your liber as they sea), we certney like gurgles love the nargleygargley so, arrahbeejee, tell that old frankay boyuk to bellows up the tombucky in his tumtum argan and give us a gust of his gushy old. Goof!
Hymnumber twentynine. O, the singing! Happy little girlycums to have adolphted such an Adelphus! O, the swingswung hopops so goholden! They’ve come to chant en chor. They say their salat, the mahdiens’ prayer to the messiager of His Nabis, prostitating their selfs eachwise and combinedly. Fateha, fold the hands. Be it honoured, bow the head. May thine evings e’en be blossful! Even of bliss! As we sohope for ablution. For the sake of the farbung and of the scent and of the holiodrops. Amemus.
A long pause. Their orison arises misquewhite as Osman glory, ebbing wasteward, leaves to the soul of light its fading silence (allahlah lahlah lah!), a turquewashed sky. Then:
— Xanthos! Xanthos! Xanthos! We think to thine, mighty innocent, that diddest bring it off fuitefuite. Should in ofter years it became about you will after desk jobduty becoming a bank midland mansioner we and I shall reside with our obeisant servants among Burke’s mobility at La Roserie, Ailesbury Road. Red bricks are all hellishly good values if you trust to the roster of ads but we’ll save up ourselves and nab what’s nicest and boskiest of timber trees in the nebohood. Oncaill’s plot. Luccombe oaks, Turkish hazels, Greek firs, incense palms, edcedras. The hypsometers of Mount Anville is held to be dying out of arthataxis but, praise send Larix U’Thule, the wych elm of Manelagh is still flourishing in the open because it’s native of our nature and the seeds was sent by Fortune. We’ll have our private palypeachum pillarposterns for lovesick letterines fondly affianxed to our front railings and swings, hammocks, tighttaught balletlines, accomodationnooks and prismic bathboites to make Envyeyes mouth water and wonder when they binocular us from their embrassured windows in our garden rare. Fyat-Fyat shall be our number on the autokinaton and Chubby in his Chuffs oursforownly chuffreur. T will be waiting for uns as I sold U at the first antries. Our cousin gourmand, Percy, the pup, will denounce the sniffnomers of all callers whereamong our Seemyease Sister, Tabitha, the ninelived, will extend to the full her hearthy welcome. While the turf and twigs they tattle. Tintin tintin. Lady Marmela Shortbred will walk in for supper with her marchpane switch on and her necklace of almonds and her poirette Sundae dress with bracelets of honey and her cochineal hose with the caramel dancings, the briskly best from Booteestown, and her sucking-staπ of ivory mint. You mustn’t miss it or you’ll be sorry. Charmeuses chloes, glycering juwells, lydialight fans and puπumed cynarettes. And the Prince Le Monade has been graciously pleased. His six chocolate pages will run bugling before him and Cococream toddle after with his sticksword in a pink cushion. We think His Sparkling Headiness ought to know Lady Marmela. Luisome his for lissome hers. He’s not going to Cork till Cantalamesse or mayhope till Rose Easter or Saint Tibble’s Day. So Niomon knows. The Fomor’s in his Fin, the Momor’s her and hin. A paaralone! A paaralone! And Dublin’s all adin. We’ll sing a song of Singlemonth and you’ll too and you’ll. Here are notes. There’s the key. One two three. Chours! So come on, ye wealthy gentrymen wib frufrocksfull of fun! Thin thin! Thin thin! Thej olly and thel ively, thou billy with thee coo, for to jog a jig of a crispness nice and sing a missal too. Hip champouree! Hiphip champouree! O you longtailed blackman, polk it up behind me! Hip champouree! Hiphip champouree! And, jessies, push the pumkik round. Anneliuia!
Since the days of Roamaloose and Rehmoose the pavanos have been strident through their struts of Chapelldiseut, the vaulsies have meed and youdled through the purly ooze of Ballybough, many a mismy cloudy has tripped taintily along that hercourt strayed reelwey and the rigadoons have held ragtimed revels on the plateauplain of Grangegorman; and, though since then sterlings and guineas have been replaced by brooks and lions and some progress has been made on stilths and the races have come and gone and Thyme, that chef of seasoners, has made his usual astewte use of endadjustables and whatnot willbe isnor was, those danceadeils and cancanzanies have come stimmering down for our begayment through the bedeafdom of po’s taeorns, the obcecity of pa’s teapucs, as lithe and limbfree limber as when momie mummed at ma.
Just so stylled with the nattes are their flowerheads now and each of all has a lovestalk ownto herself and the tot of all of the tits of their understamens is as open as he can posably she and is tournesoled straightcut or sidewaist, accordant to the coursets of things feminite, towooerds him in heliolatry, that they may catchcup in their calyzettes, alls they go troping, those parryshoots from his muscalone pistil, for he can eyespy through them to their selfcolours, nevertheleast their tissue peepers (meaning Mullabury mesh, the time of appling flowers, a guarded figure of speech, a variety of perfume, a bridawl, seamist inso one
), as leichtly as see saw (O my goodmiss! O my greatmess! O my prizelestly preshoes!), while, dewyfally as dimb dumbelles, all alisten to his elixir. Lovelyt!
