FINNEGANS WAKE

Typescript

6th typescript, November 1938, IV§5 draft level 6

MS British Library 47488 183-192 Draft details

Soft morning, city! |6Lsp!º6| I am Leafy speafing. Lfp! Folty and folty all the nights have being falling on to long my hair. Not a sound, falling. |s6Lispen!ºs6| No wind, no word. Only a leaf, just a leaf and then leaves. The woods are so fond always. |6a As wee were babes.6| It is for |6my me6| goolden wending. |6(+Unless? Away!+)6| Rise up, man of the hooths, you have slept so long! On your pondered palm. Reclined from cape to pede. With pipe on bowl. Terce for a fiddler, sixt for makmerriers, none for a Cole. Rise up now! And aruse! Norvena's over. I am Leafy, your goolden, so you called me, |6may6| |6my me6| life, |6yea6| (+6you're your+)6| goolden, silve me solve, exsogerraider! |6You did so drool. I was so sharm. Stout Stokes would take you offly. So has he as bored me to slump.6| But am good and rested. Taks to you, toddy, tan ye. Yawhawaw. Helpunto min, helpas vin. Here is your shirt, the day one, come back. The stock, your collar. Also your double brogues. A comforter as well. And here your iverol and everthelest your
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umbr. And stand up tall. |6Straight.6| I want to see you looking fine for me. Blooming in the very lotust and second to nill, Budd! Proudpurse Alby with his pooraroon Eireen, they'll. Pride, comfytousness, enevy! You make me think of a seaman I once. The man Megallant. Or an earl was he, at Lucan? Or, no, it's the Iren duke's I mean. Or sombrey erse from the Dark Countries. Come and let us. The childher are still fast. There is no school today. Them boys is so contrairy. The Head does be worrying himself. Heel trouble and heal travel. Unless they changes by mistake. I seen the likes in the twinngling of an aye. Som. So oft. Sim. Time after time. The sehm asnuh. Two bredder as doffered as nors in soun. When one of him sighs or one of him cries 'tis you all over. No peace at all. Maybe
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it's those two old crony aunts held them out to the water front. Queer Mrs Quickenough and odd Miss Doddpebble. And when them two has had a good few there isn't much more dirty clothes to publish. From the Laundersdale Minssions. One chap googling the holyboy's thingabib and this lad wetting his (6wee widdle6). You were pleased as Punch, recitating war exploits and pearse orations to them jackeen gapers. But that night after, all you were wanton! Bidding me do this and that and the other. And blowing off to me, hugly Judsys, what wouldn't you give to have a girl. Your wish was mewill. And, lo, out of a sky! The way I too. But her, you wait. Eager to choose is left to her shade. If she had only more matcher's wit. Findlings makes runaways, runaways a stray. She's as merry as the gricks still. 'Twould be sore should leaden sorrow. I'll wait and I'll wait. And then if all goes. What will be is. Is is. But let them. Slops hospodch and the slusky slut too. It's Phoenix, dear. And the flame is, hear! Let's our joornee saintomichael make it. Since |6(+the+)6| lausafire has lost and the book of the depth is. Closed. Come! |s6Step out of your shell.s6| Hold up you free fings. Yes. We've light enough. |6(+I won't take our laddy's lampern. Nor you your rucksunck.+)6| Send Arctur guiddus! Isma! Sft! It is the softest morning that ever I can ever remember me. But she won't rain showerly, our Ilma. Until it's the time. And me and you have made our. The sons of bursters won in the games. Still, I'll take me owld Finvara for my shawldhers. The trout will be so fine at brookfisht. With a taste of roly polony from Blugpuddels after. To bring out the tang of the tay. Is't you fain for a roost brood? Oaxmealsturn, all out of the woolpalls! And then all the chippy young cuppinjars cluttering round us, clottering for their creams. Crying, me, grownup sister! Are me not truly? Lst! Only but, there's a but, you must buy me a fine new girdle too, nolly. When next you go to Market Norkwall. They're all saying I need it since the one from Isaacsen's slooped its line. Mrknrk? Fy arthou! Come. Give me your great bearspaw, padder avilky, fol a miny tiny. Dola. Mineninecyhandsy. In the |6langua languoº6| of flows. That's my Jorgen Jargonsen. But you understood, nodst? |6(+I always know by your brights and shades.+)6| Reach down. A lil mo. So. Drow back your glave. Hot and hairy, hugon, is your hand! Here's where the falskin begins. Smoos as an infams. One time you told you'd been burnt in ice. And one time it was chemicalled after you taking a lifeness. I'll close me eyes. So not to see. All men has done something. We'll lave it. So. We will take our walk before in |6(+the+)6| timpul they ring the earthly bells. In the church by the hearseyard. Pax goodmens will. Or the birds start their treestorm shindy. Look, there are yours off, high on high! And,
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cooshes, sweet good luck they're cawing you, Coole! You see, they're as white as the riven snae. For us. Next peaters' poll you will be elicted or I'm not your elicitous bribe. The Kinsella woman's man will never reduce me. A MacGarath O'Cullagh O'Muirk MacFewney sookadoodling and sweepacheeping round the lodge of Fjorn na Galla of the Trumpets! It's like potting the poe to shambe on the dresser or tamming Uncle Tim's Caubeen on to the brows of a Viker Eagle. Not such big |s6steps stridess6|, huddy foddy! You'll crush (+6my antelopes me antilopes+)6| I saved for. |s6They're penny Penisole's.s6| It is hardly a mile or seven|s6, possumbottss6|. It is very good for the |6healths health6| of a morning. With Buahbuah. It seems so long since, ages since. As if you had been long far away. You will tell me some time if I can believe its all. You know where I am bringing you? You remember? I could lead you there and I still by you in bed. Les go dutc to Danegreven, nos? Not a soul but ourselves. Time? We have loads on our hangs. Till Gilligan and Halligan call again to hooligan. |6And the rest of the guns,º Sullygan eight|a, from left to righta|. Olobobo, the ye foxy theagues!6| The moskors thought to ball you out. Or the Wald Unicorn's Master, Bugley Captain from the Naul, drawls up by the door with the Honourable Whilp and the Reverend Poynter and the two Lady Pagets of Tallyhaugh, Ballyhuntus, |6in their riddletight raiding hats for6| to lift a hereshealth to their robost, the Stag, evers the Carlton hart. And you needn't host out with your duck and your duty to reach him the glass he never starts to finish. Clap this wis on your pole and stick this in your ear, wiggly. Beauties don't answer and the rich never pays. If you were the enlarged they'd hue in cry you, |6heathstown Heathtown6|, |6harbourstown Harbourstown6|, |6snowtown Snowtown6|, Four Knocks, |6flemingstown Flemingtown6|, |6bodingstown Bodingtown6| to the Ford of Fyne |6on6| Delvin. |s6How they housed to house you after the p Platonic garlens.s6| |6(+And all because,
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loosed in her reflexes, she seem she seen Ericoricori coricome huntsome with his three poach dogs aleashing him. But you came safe
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through.
+)6| We might call on the Old Lord, what do you say? |6There's something tells me.6| He is a fine sport. And a proper old promnentory. His door always open. Much as your own is. You invoiced him last Eatster so he ought to give us hot cockles and everything. Remember to take off your white hat, ech? When we come in the presence. And say hoothoothoo, ithmuthisthy! |6His is house of laws.6| And I'll drop my graciast kertssey too. If the Ming Tung no go bo to me homage me hamage kow bow tow to the Mong Tang. Ceremonialness to stand lowest place be! Saying: What'll you take to link to light a pike on porpoise, plaise? He might knight you an Armor elsor daub you the first cheap magyarstrape. Remember Bomthomanew vim vam vom Hungerig. Hoteforme, chain and epolettes, botherbumbose. And I'll be your aural eyeness. But we vain. |6Plain fancies.6| It's in the castles air. |6My currant bread's full of sillymattercraft. Aloof is enoofº.6| We can take or leave. |s6He's reading his ruffs.s6| You'll know our way from there, surely? Flura's way. Where once we led so many car couples have follied since. |s6Clatcz! Clatchka!s6| Giving Shaughnessy's mare the hillymount of her life. With her strulldeburgghers! Hnmn hnmn! The rollcky road adondering. We can sit us down on the heathery benn, me on you, in quolm unconsciounce. To scand the arising. Out from Drumleek. It was there Evora told me I had best. If I ever. When the moon of mourning is set and gone. Over Glinaduna. Lonu nula. Ourselves, oursouls alone. At the site of salvocean. And watch would the letter you're wanting be coming may be. And cast ashore. That I prays for be mains of me draims. Scratching it and patching at with a prompt from a primer. And what scrips of nutsnolleges I pecked up be meself. Every letter is a hard but yours sure is the hardest crux ever. Hack an axe, hook an oxe, hath an ans, heth hith ences. But once done, dealt and delivered, tattat, you're on the map. Based on traumscrapt from Maston, Boss. After rounding his
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world of ancient days. Carried in a caddy or screwed and corked. On his mugisstosst surface. With a bob, bob, bottledy |6bob6|. Blob. When the waves give up yours the soil may for me. Sometime then, somewhere there, I wrote me hopes and buried the page when I heard Thy voice, ruddery dunner, |6so loud that none but,6| and left it to lie till a kissmess coming. So content me now. Lss. Unbild and be buildn our |6villa bankaloan cottage6| there and we'll cohabit respectable. The Gowans, ser, for Medem, me. With acute |6babley bubel6| runtoer for to pippup where the sterres be. |6Just to see would we hear how Jove and the peers talk.6| Tiltop, bigmaster! You're not so giddy now any more. All your graundplotting and the little it brought! Humps, when you hised us, and dumps, when you
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doused us! But sarra one of me cares a brambling ram, pomp porteryark! On limpidy marge I've made me hoom. Park and a pub for me. Only don't start your stunts of last night again. I could guessp to her name who tuckt you that one, tufnut! Bold bet backwords. For the loves of |6the sins sinfintins6|! Before the naked universe. And the bailby pleasemarm rincing his eye! One of these fine days, lewdyculler, |s6you'll have to reform you must redoforms6| again. Blessed shield Martin! Softly so. I am so exquisitely pleased about the loveleavest dress I have. You will always call me Leafiest, won't you, dowling? Whordherfhull Olldhbhoy! And you won't urbjunk to (+6my me+)6| parafume, oiled of kollooney, with a spot of marashy. Sm! It's Allpine Smile from Yesther and Yesthers. I'm in everywince nasturtls. Even in Houlth's nose. Astale of astoun. Grand old marauder! If I knew who you are! Is that right what your brothermilk in Bray |6told bes telling6| the district you were bragged up by Brostal because your parents would be always tumbling into his foulplace and losing her pentacosts after drinking their pledges? Howsomendeavour, you done me fine! Our native
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night when you twicetook me for some Marienne Sherry and then your Jermyn cousin who signs hers with exes and the beardwig I found in your Clarksome bag. Pharaops you'll play you're the king (+6from of+)6| Aeships. You certainly make the most royal of noises. I will tell you all sorts of makeup things, strangerous. And show you to every simple storyplace we pass. Cadmillersfolly, Bellevenue, Wellcrom, Quid Superabit, villities valleties. You'll have to ask the four that named them is always snugging in your barsalooner, saying they're the relicts of Conal O'Daniel and writing Finglas Since the Flood. That'll be some kingly work in progress. But it's by this route he'll come somorrow. And I can signal you all flint and fern are rasstling as we go by. And you'll sing thumb a bit and then wise your selmon on it. It is all so often and still the same to me. Snf? Only turf, wick dear. Clane turf. You've never fogodden batt on tarf, have you, at broin burroow, what? Mch? Why, them's the muchrooms, come up during the night. Look, agres of roofs in parshes. Dom on dam, dim in dym. Mind your stride or you'll knock. Neighboulotts for newtown. The Eblamagna you behazyheld loomening up out of the dumblynass. As you said. It fair takes. If I lose my breath for a minute or two don't speak, remember. Once it happened, so may it again. Why I'm all these years within years in soffran, allbeleaved. To hide away the tear, the parted. It's thinking of all. And them that's gunne. I'll begin again in a jiffey. The nik of a nad. How glad you'll be I waked you! My! How well you'll feel! For ever after. First we turn by the vagurin here and then it's gooder. |6|aSo side by (+side+).ºa| Turn |sxagain, weddingturn, agazeº, weddingtown!ºsx| |sa|sxblank of Lundob! Loud Laud,º man men of Londub!ºsx|sa|6| I only hope whole the heavens sees
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us. For I feel I could near to faint away. Into the deeps. Annamores (6leap leep6). Let me lean, just a lea, if you le, bowldstrong bigtider. Allgearls is wea. At times. So. While you're adamant evar. Wrhps, that wind as if out of norewere! Jumpst shootst throbbst into me mouth like a bogue and arrohs. Ludegude of the Lashlanns, how he whips me cheeks! Sea, sea! Here weir, reach, island, bridge. Where you meet I. The day. Remember! Why there that moment and us two only? I was but teen, a tiler's dot. The swankysuits was boosting always, sure him, he was like to me fad. But the swaggerest swell off (6Sacvulle Shackvulle6) Strutt. And the fiercest freaky ever followed a pining child round the sluppery table with a forkful of fat. But a king of whistlers. Scieoula! When he'd prop me atlas against his goose and light our two candles for our singers (6duos duohs6) on the sewingmachine. I'm sure he squirted juice in his eyes to make them flash for flightening me. Still and all he was awful fond to me. Yed he never knew we seen us before. I was the pet of everyone then. And you were the pantymammy's Vulking Corsergoth. The invision of (6Idelond Indelond6). And, by Thorror, you looked it! My lips went livid for from the joy of fear. Like almost now. How? How you said how you'd give me the keys of me heart. Only, no, now it's me who's got to give. And we'd be married till though dev do espart. O mine! And can it be it's nnow fforvell? Illas! I wisht I had better
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glances to peer to you through this baylight's growing. But you're changing, acoolsha, you're changing from me, I can feel. Or is it me is? I'm getting mixed. Brightening
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up and tightening down. Yes, you're changing, sonhusband, and you're turning, I can feel you, for a daughterwife from the hills again. And she is coming. Swimming in me hindmoist. Diveltaking on me tail. Just a whisk brisk sly spry spink spank sprint of a thing |s6theresomewhere theresomeres6|, saultering. |s6(+Saltarella come to her own.+) |sxI pity your oldself I was used to. Now a younger's there. Try not to leave her. |saBe happy, dear ones!ºsa| May I be wrong!sx| (+And For+) she'll be sweet for you as I was sweet when I came down out of me mother.s6| My great blue bedroom, the air so quiet, scarce a cloud. In peace and silence. And let her rain now if she likes. Gently or strongly as she likes. Anyway let her rain for my time is come. I done me best when I was let. A hundred cares, a tithe of troubles and is there one who understands me? One in (+6the a+)6| thousand of years of the nights? All |s6my mes6| life I have been lived among them but now they are becoming lothed to me. And I am lothing their little warm tricks. And lothing their mean cosy turns. And all the greedy gushes out through their small souls. And all the lazy leaks down over their brash bodies. My people were not their sort out beyond there so far as I can. For all the bold and bad and bleary they are blamed, the seahags. No! Nor for all our wild dances in all their wild din. How she was handsome, the wild Amazia, when she would seize to my other breast! And what is she weird, haughty Niluna, that she will snatch from my ownest hair! And the clash of our cries till we spring to be free. But I'm loothing them that's here and all I lothe. Loonely in me loneness. (6I'm I am6) passing out. O bitter ending! (6For she'll be sweet for you as I was when I came down out of my mother.6) And it's old and old it's sad and old it's
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sad and weary I go back to you, my cold father, my cold mad father, my cold mad feary father, till the near sight of the mere size of him makes me seesaw saltsick and I rush, my only, into your arms. Two more. Onetwo moremens more. So. Avelaval. My leaves have drifted from me. All. But one clings still. Lff! So soft this morning ours. Yes. Carry me along,
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taddy, like you done through the toy fair. If I seen him bearing down on me now under whitespread wings like he'd come from Arkangels, I sink I'd die down over his feet, humbly dumbly, only to washup. Yes, tid. There's where. First. We pass through grass behush the bush to. Whish! (6A gull. Gulls.6) Far calls. Far, coming! End here. Us then. Finn, again! Take. Bussofthlee, mememormee! Till (6thousendthee thousendsthee6). Lps. The keys to. Given! A way a lone a lost a last a loved a long the

Paris,
1922—1938.