FINNEGANS WAKE

Typescript

Typescript, copy 1, December 1937, II.2§5 draft level 1

MS Zurich 1-8 Draft details

RM14 And as, these things being so or ere those things having been done, way back home in Pacata Auburnia F75 (untillably holy gammel Eire), LM52 one world burrowing on another, Standfest, our topiocal sagoa hero, signs is on the bellygud's bastille back, bucked up with fullness, and his whitehatched patch, the towelturbaned, and Flower, a silvering to her jubilee,F76 birchleaves her jointure, our lavy in waving, visage full of flesh and fat as a hen's i' forehead, Airyanna and Blowybart, topsir and turvy, LM53 that royal pair, in their palace of quicken boughs hight The Goat and Compasses ('phone number 17·69, if you want to knowF77), his seaarm strongsround her, her velivole eyne ashipwracked, have discusst their things of the past, crime and fable with shame, home and profit,F78 why lui lied to lei and hun tried to kill ham, scribbledehobbles, in whose veins runs a mixture of are head bent and hard upon. Spell me the chimes. They are tales all tolled.F79 LM54 Today is well thine but whose may tomorrow be? But, bless his cowly head and press his crankly hat, what a world's woe is each's
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other's weariness waiting to beadroll his own properer mistakes, LM55 the backslapping gladhander F80 free of his florid future and the other singing likeness dirging
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a past of bloody altars, gale with a blost to him, dove without gall. And she, not leashed of the jilldaw's nestF81 who tears up lettereens she never apposed a pen uponF82. What's Hiccupper to hem or her to Hagaba? Ough, ough, brieve kindli!F83

RM15 Dogs' vespers are anending. Vespertiliabitur. Goteshoppard quits his gabhard cloke to sate with Becchus. Zumbok! Achèvre! Yet wind will be ere (1ere1) fadervorF84 and the hour of fruminy if Nippon have pearls LM57 or opals Eldorado, the daindy dish, the lecking out! For long 'tis till gets bright that all cocks waken and birds Diana with dawnsong hail. Aught darks flou a duskness. Bats that? There peepeestrilling. At Brennan's on the moor. LM58 At Tam Fanagan's weak yat his still's going strang. Still here is noctules and can tell things acommon on by that fluffy feeling. Larges loomy wheelhouses lumber up to lodgebox F86 with hoodie hearsemen carrawain LM59 we keep his peace who follow his law, Sunday
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King.F87 His sevencoloured's soot (Ochone! Ochonal!) and his imponence one heap lumpblock (Mogoul!). LM60 And Rivers burst out like weeming racesround joydrinks for the fewnrally.F89 Where every feaster's a foster's other, fiannians all.F90 LM61 The welling breast, her willing giant, the mountain mourning, his duggedy dew. To obedient of LM62 civicity in urbanious at felicity what'll yet meek Mike our diputy mimber when he's head on poll and Peter's burgess and Miss Mishy Mushy is tiptupt by Toft Taft. Goblesse gobleege. For as Anna was at the beginning, lives yet and will return after great |s1deep sleep deap sleapºs1| rerising and a white night high with the cows of Drommhiem as shower as there's a wet enclouded in Westwicklow or a little black rose a truant in a thorntree. We drames our dreams till Bappy returns. And Sein annews. So shuttle on the sacred magirattler, Simmy. And Sam, son, the pipers done. F92 Eric aboy! And it's time that all paid tribute to this massive mortiality, LM65 the pink of punk perfection as photography in mud. Some may seek to dodge the
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gobbet for its quantity of quality but who wants to cheat the choker's got to learn to chew the cud. Allwhichhole scribes on scroll circuminiuminluminatedhave. With a pansy for the pussy in the corner.F95

RM16 Bewise of Fanciulla's heart, the heart of Fanciulla. Even the recollection of willow fronds is a spellbinder that lets to hear. The rushes by the grey nuns' pond: ah eh oh let me sigh too. Coalmansbell: behoves you handmake of the load. Jenny Wren: pick, peck. Johnny Post: pack, puck. All the world's in want and is writing a letters. A letters from a person to a place about a thing. And all the world's a wish to be carrying a letters. A letters to a king about a treasure from a cat. When men want to write a |s1letter letterss1|. Ten men, ton men, pen men, pun men, wont to rise a ladder. And den men, dun men, fen men, fun men, hen men, hun men wend to raze a leader. Is then any lettersday from many peoples, Daganasanavitch? Empire, your outermost. A posy |s1card cords1|. Plece.