FINNEGANS WAKE

Scribbledehobble

Mixed typescript/draf, 1932, II.2§4 draft level 2

MS British Library 47478 252-254, 248-251 Draft details

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While, one word burrowing on another, Standfest, the towelturbaned, and flower in her wrap around, |2face visage2| full of flesh and fat as hen's in forehead, Ariana and Blueybart, that royal pair in their house of the hundred bottles|2, the Goat and Compasses |a(Phone number 17·69)a|,2| discusst the past the angerache of their |2lamp2| love and the hungerbrood it bore them, the fairs at home and the expurge trade, and walking progress hinks linkafuss foremost the shellroad path from dayfall to the shrilling of theº crowcrested,º |2Peter Sawyer's2| scribbledehobbles are|2, in |aher whosea| veins runs a mixture of,2| bent on their pensums. |2Frogs' vespers are at end.2| |2|xThe apostle walks unread unread future hereticx|2| |2Flying do be the birds. Wind will be |afor 1 listener at any ratea|. And the hearse of the kine will pass at its hour |a(though he's soon to be killed off, old king, unread old dam |band embalmed in red honey for dynastic continuity's sakeb|) |bWhat a terrible piece of business!b|a| |xWhat use even giving them unread to changex| But2| Trifid tongue, others woo will and work for, and dove without gall,º the backslapping glandhander his singing |2likeness pattern2|, with her whose mind's a jilldaw'sº nestº who tears up letters she never put pen upon when bother her hair's in a queer of a mood. As if that three couldº solve a twohornheadedº dulcarnon that stumped Alex among anders and drove him to pulfer turnips. And, my hat, what a worldall of weariness is theirs waiting to hear their proper mistakes! For how many |2duitsch2| guldens would one post now to the pillar? For one hundred? For one hundred's thousand? And to what will't all |2this taradiddle, as brains go2| serve them in an after reeraw lifetime? If a gas consumer,º habituated to marble mantels,º buys a dozen of apples every first Friday during a whole leap year at the weight of so many sesterces per pound overthepoise, taking abbaco as 7.7 and letting born of bulrushes stand for any woman what a grand total of sentinels in reindeer pelts and aided by a span of oxen fedº on Trinidad's shellcocoaº and miring in sheets and sheets of showers will it take to paper a trench fifteen yards than a cobbler's bulk is broad?
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Will it make of one a good milker the having been up on superlatives? Or will he go |2away to outlands2| in a peajacket |2as a roaming Cotharick2| live rough |2crack on sail2| and just not be silly or not care toppings for the birthrate and lean loungingly on his lentils? |2Wrong!2| Or where will he find|2, antristº animal,2| funds to |2live dangerously2| smoke a whole box of matches diurnally? Or if she makes an earth of heaven will she lilt that Barney take her home again? For so long as shes in dimityº read serials in a bummeltrain with a lot of uninteresting duck trousersº hanging around it is as wholly probable as a holy parable that the worst at least at last may happen, such as go to meet Mary,º miss Mamy and mary Meg. Why ask her or Tossy Madden |2or little Nelly either of Holy God2| sense from anything that shred since every annual has its own aroma? Quid vobis videtur?º Even remembering of a tree is too beautiful for her spellbound to listen.

Small blame be hers therefore if she shook her shoe off at geography giggle doing rivers of India with a whisper of wilfulness heard |2from Hazelizod2| round the giddying globe! Bewise of Fanciulla's heart, the heart of |2Fanciulla. And Fanciulla and2| her hand that's as gloveless as a peer's in the presence, pura è pia bella of the hazelblue eyes and linefree face, and how both will be |2ready maid readymaid2| marrying |2for |areal palships witha| any and all lovethieves2| when |2Jollicomes Jollycomes2| matching home.
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Though her loinstones be of jade and moon increscent she will swoon over Shelly|2, so as in the Askimwhose language,2| to |2get a gape2| crush on the coalman or to learn from Dalcrozeº how to drop her umbrella |2for disorderliness is their sex's bugbear especially when old which they soon get to look2|. But her true line, as the little grey nunsº will |s2show schools2| her without fuss or muss either since today is thine but whose will tomorrow be, is to beg two makes in change of a wing but when there's no more tay for sugar the cosey and she's looked her last of lonesomeness comes the divinity showshapes her ends backview them how we will.
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|2He who will either be crowned or hanged |alearns scansa| history's errors from the parrotbook of Datars., foully traduced for the usages of dauphins. If the meter of Herodotus or Noah's misbelieving |aAnnalfabetter,a| missus was |ato velivole back from Walhala |b& through the tellaspeep of whatisaswhatnessb|a| |athink about |bread boyjonesb| upona| those pages |aabout the things that did having place at all for pretty safe merelya| she wd laugh that flat that after she had
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sanked down on her fat arks they were all of a sheeks
. This while he|a, who suckled at the breast of a peasant mothera| who |ahaving aten knots of knowledge |band |cnot wetting his weaponc| shaker of the sacred rattleb|a| will be the |acoward's castle pulpiter &a| |aapostlea| walker |afrom the ball of his foota|, as far as him,
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|aoriented though he be,a| sees not her signings nor the multiplying of her shadow but is ating as he thinks |aat presenta|, |afor his salivationa| of the knuts of knowledge so as to befit him for the massacre of the ignorants |aby pitchcap and trianglea| though still preserving his stained glass effect (you wd
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think butter wouldn't melt in his breeches)
2|