FINNEGANS WAKE
Editions
Joyce-Léon corrections 1939-1940 II.1§3
MS: Buffalo VI.H.4.a, pp. 236.33-240.04 Draft details
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
{f39, 237}
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!
And they said to him:
— Enchainted, dear sweet Stainusless, young confessor, dearer dearest, we herehear, aboutobloss, O coelicola, thee salutamt. Pattren of our unschoold, pageant master, deliverer of softmissives, round the world in forty mails, bag, belt and balmybeam, our barnaboy, our chepachap, with that pampipe in your putaway, gab borab, when you will be after doing all your sightseeing and
soundhearing and smellsniffing and tastytasting and tenderumstouchings in all Daneygaul, send us, your adorables, thou overblaseed, a wise and letters play of all you can ceive of, chief celtech chappy, from your holy post now that you hast ascertained ceremonially our names. Unclean you art not. Outcaste thou are not. Leperstower, the karman's loki, has not blanched at your pollution and
your intercourse at ninety legsplits does not defile. Untouchable is not the scarecrown is on you. You are pure. You are pure. You are in your puerity. You have not brought stinking members into the house of Amanti. Elleb Inam, Titep Notep, we name them to the Hall of Honour. Your head has been touched by the god Enel-Rah and your face has been brightened by the goddess Aruc-Ituc. Return, sainted
youngling, and walk once more among us! The rains of Demani are masikal as of yere. And Baraza is all aflower. Siku of calmy days. As shiver as shower can be. Our breed and better class is in brood and bitter pass. Labbeycliath longs. But we're counting on the cluck. The Great Cackler comes again. Sweetstaker, Abel lord of all our haloease, wee toutes (to be slightly more femmiliar perhips
than is slickly more then nacessory), philomelas as well as magdalenes,
{f39, 238}
were drawpairs with two pinmarks, BVD and BVD dot, so want lotteries of ticklets posthastem (you appreciate that?) so as to be very dainty, if an isaspell, and so as to be verily
{f10, 188}
dandydainty, if an ishibilley, of and on, to and for, by and with, from you. Let the hitback hurry his wayward ere the missive has time to take herself off, 'twill be o'erthemore wilfully intomeet if the coming offence caused our shudders before. We ſeem to have being elſewhere as tho' th' had paſs'd in our ſuſpenſe. Next to our shrinking
selves we love sensitivas best. For they are the Angèles. Brick, fauve, jonquil, sprig, fleet, nocturne, smiling bruise. For they are an Angèle's garment. We will be constant (what a word!) and bless the day, for whole hours too, yes, for sold long syne as we shall be being in our created being of ours elvishness, the day you befell, you dreadful temptation! Now promisus as at
our requisted you will remain ignorant of all what you hear and, though if whilst disrobing to the edge of risk (the bisifings in idolhours that satinfines tootoo!), draw a veil till we next time! You don't want to peach but bejimboed if ye
do|err.!ºerr| Perhelps. We ernst too may. How many months or how many years till the myriadth and first become! Bashfulness be tupped! May he colp, may he colp her, may he
mixandmass colp her! Talk with a hare and you wake of a tartars. That's mus. Says the Law. List! Kicky Lacey, the pervergined, and Bianca Mutantini, her conversa, drew their fools longth finnishfurst, Herzog van Vellentam, but me and meother ravin, my coosine of mine, have mour good three chancers, weothers, after Bohnaparts. The mything smile of me, my wholesole assumption, shes nowt
mewithout as weam twin herwithin, that I love like myselfish, like smithereen's robinsongs, like juneses' nutslost, like the blue of the sky if I stoops fore to spy between my whiteyoumightcallimbs. How their duel makes their triel! Eer's wax for Sur Soord, dongdong bollets for the iris riflers, queemswellth of coocome in their combs for the jennyjos. Caro caressimus! Honey swarms
where mellisponds. Will bee all buzzy one another minnies for the mere effect that you are so fulled of pollen yourself. Teomeo! Daurdour! We feel unspeechably thoughtless over it all here in Gizzygazelle
{f39, 239}
Park's bimboowood so pleasekindly communicake with the original sinse we are only yearning as yet how to burgeon. It's meant milliems of centiments dead, lost or mislaid on them but, master of snakes, we can sloughchange in the nip of a napple solongas we can allsee for deedsetton your quick. By the hook in your look we're eyed for aye were you begging the questuan with your
lutean bowl round Monkmesserag. And whenever you're tingling in your trout we're sure to be tangled in our ticements. It's game, it's game, ma chère, be off with your shepherdress on! Upsome cauda! Behose our handmades for the lured! To these nunce we are but yours in ammatures yet well come that day we shall ope to be ores. Then shalt thou see, seeing, the sight.
No more hoaxites! Nay more gifting in mennage! A her's
{f10, 189}
fancy for a his friend and then that fellow yours after this follow ours. Vania, Vania Vaniorum, Domne Vanias!
Hightime is up: be it down into outs according! When there shall be foods for vermin as full as feeds for the fett, eat on hearth as there's hot in oven. When every Klitty of a scolderymeid shall hold every yardscullion's right to stimm her uprecht for whimsoever, whetther on privates, whatther in publics. And when all us romance catholeens shall have ones for all amanseprated. And the world is maidfree. Methanks. So much for His Meignysthy Man! And all his bigattens. So till Coquette to tell Cockotte to teach Connie Curley to touch Cattie Hayre and tip Carminia to tap La Chérie though where the diggings he's dweellst amongst us here's nobody knows save Mary. Whyfor we go ringing hands in hands in gyrogyrorondo.
These bright elects, consentconsorted, they were waltzing up their willside with their princesome handsome angeline chiuff while in those wherebus there wont bears way (mearing unknown, a place where pigeons carry fire to seethe viands, a miry hill, belge end sore footh) oaths and screams and bawley groans with a belchybubhub and a hellabelow bedemmed and bediabbled the arimaining lucisphere.
Helldsdend, whelldselse! Lonedom's breach lay foulend up uncouth not be brooched by punns and reedles. Yet the ring gayed rund rorosily with a drat you for a brat
{f39, 240}
you. Yasha Yash ate sassage and mash, and so foor shay bash, poor Yasha Yash. And you wonna make one of our micknick party. No honaryhuest on our sposhialiste. For poor Glugger was dazed and late in his crave, ay he, laid in his grave.