1st draft, 1936-1937, II.2§4 draft level 0

MS British Library 47479 194, 47480 2-3 Draft details

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|aTeff Taffa| — All was flashning and krashning |abloodymoriaty bloodymoriarskya| |abluchedred bluchedrudda|? |aTill ever so ofter?a|

Butt — |a|bEven Till evenb| so aften!a| Sea vaast a pool! |aAhool! |bWoofwoof!b|a|

|aTaff — Where doth the pain lie, Master Punch?a|

Taff — |aHumme to our mounta mounthings!a| Conscribe him tillusk, unt! The grandsopper! |aEndues paramilintary langdwage! The good old gunshop monowards for manosymples. |bNabuccolish, natchay!b|a| |xAnd may it be the intrepidation of our dreams which we 1st foregot at wiking ere the bleakfrost chilled our revery soughts. |aLest Lets hear in rerember the braise of. Hold!a|x|

Butt — |aBog carse ond dam mat, sar! |bLimbers affront of him, lumbers behund.b|a| He was |aomnivollupped emnivolluppeda|. In his raglanrock and his malakoiffed bulbsbyg and his varnashed roscians and his cardigan's blousejagged and his scarlett manchokuffs and his treecoloured |atrunksers camiflagsa| and his |aperikopendulousa| blank

Taff — Toadlebens! |aA bear to reign in his heavenspawn consumation robes.a| |aThat is Saya| mangraphique, |ayet it is not may say nay para| daguerre. |a|bScutterer of guld!b| Here furry glum, there fairy pass. And the buddies behide in the byre.a|

|aTaff — |bO day of rath! Ah murther of mines!b| Beirneson MacMahahan from Osro bearing nose easger on his swooth prowl?a|

|aButt — Bruinboroff, the honeymoonger!, and the grizzliest ManMicahul in Meideveide.a|

Taff — Diveilge! See that we soll or lit thee be luna! |aBang on the bouch, gurg in the gorge, rap at the roof & your flap is unbu...a|

Butt — Buckily buckily. Bimbam bombumb.

Taff — Trovatorevitch! I tumble!

|aButt — |shAll Ahamaher! Mohorear!sh| I met with whom it was too late. Twas fate. O hate!a|

Taff — Nit?

Butt — Not. When I seen him like a Roman Carthagic I |awas bibberinga| hadn't the art to.

Taff — The heart to|a, if you pleasea|? |aYou were. You had just been through the armemons retreat fellowed by the stenchions of the corpse.a|

Butt — |aYass, I did not. No thank you. I thought he was going to high mass.a| Russian general.

Taff — Say your piece! Buckle to! |aShinfine deed in the myrttle of the bog twin fainmain stood up to slog, freebond men lay lurkin on, arrah, sir?a|

Butt — |aHorrasure.a| It was |asomewhilea| in the Crimealian war|a, samewhere in Ayerlanda|. And I was |aduring |bmy meb| weeping stillstumns over the freshprosts of Eastcheap & the dangling garters of Marrowbone but still and all, I wasa| doing |aduring daringa| my wapping stiltstunts. |a|bOld style and heave a lep onward.b| And winn again |bon |cBastion Bostionc| (Mess)b|, plays goat the Bansha pealer! Up the revels!a| Getting up me anti vanillas. And getting off me the stissas me aunties. And swiping a johnnydans sweep for |ato exercitisea| myself between roaming carnages all
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over crumwilliam wall. |aBe the why it was |bme, ha ha! me who, haw haw!b|a|

|aTaff — You |bhe he who hew hewb|a| |x|aBetween my associations in the post and my misconnections with the futurea| I've a boodle feeld of maimeries in me buzzim for all |ame them the old boyars, |b&b| mea| old Alma Marthars. |aI think to them|b, the Corrgans, |cmy attaches,c| Cedric MacGormley and Danno O'Don O'Dunnohoe and Conne Conno O'Cannohar, and our miladies in their toileriesb|.a| Help, help, hussars!x| Correct me but I abjure of it. A strange man wehring abarrel. And here's a gift of eggs. And I live by chipping norton. And iron |afor fitsa| a farmer.º Them were helcyown days |awhen wine & Woman was for a songa|. |afor almistips.a| |aTill I shth |bwhen I scene how a he |cthe offensivec| didn't care a humpeny dump for anybody touching their thusengaged generals.b| |xI would not hurt the feelings of my life |aprivatesa| but, numb arm all,x| Up the revels!a| |aBy thes splintther of colt.a| Till I shutthim. |aShurenoff, the fourstar Russacruschen cannundrumchief.a|

Taff — |aIn sobber sooth.a| Now or never? |aThink some ingein ingainthink?a|

Butt — |aHimm to our muskets!a| |aIcht's nichts on nichts.a| Rawskin general. |a

|bTaff —b| |bBloodymuddymuzzle!b| A great old sniper are you!a|