FINNEGANS WAKE

Typescript

3rd typescript, 1937, II.2§2 draft level 4

MS British Library 47479 210-219 Draft details

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Such was the act of goth stepping the tolk of Doolin, drain and plantage, wattle and daub, with you'll peel as I'll pale and we'll pull the boath toground togutter, testies touchwood and shenstone (incooperated) unto pop and puma, calf and condor, under all the gaauspices, the chal and his chi, their roammerin over, gribgrobgrab reining trippetytrappety (so fore shalt thou flow, else thy cavern hair!) towhom she (anit likenand pleasethee!). Till sealump becalmedump to bumpslump a lifflebed (altolà, allamarsch! O gué, O gué!). Kaemper Daemper to |4Jitty Jettyº4| de Waarft, all the weight of that mons on his little ribbeunuch! Him that gronde old mand to be that haard of |4hearing heeringº4| (afore said) and her the petty tondur with the fix in her changeable eye (which see). Me lord, me lad, he goes with blowbierd. Leedy, plasheous stream. But before that his loudship was converted to a landshop there was a little theogamyjig incidence that |4hoppy go jumpy hoppy-go-jumpy4| Junuary morn, when he colluded with the cad out on the beg amudst the fionnaregal gaames of those oathmassed fenians for whome he's forcecaused a bridge of the piers, at Inverleffy, mating pontine of their engagement, synnbildising graters and |4things things,4| eke ysendt? O nilly, not all, here's the first cataraction! As if ever she cared an assuan damm about her harpoons sticking all out of him whet between phoenix his calipers and that psourdonome sheath. Sdrats ye, Gus Paudheen! Kenny's thought ye, Dinny Oozle! While the cit was leaking asphalt like a suburbiaurealis in his rure was tucking to him like old booths, booths, booths, booths.

|4An enterruption Enterruption4|. |4|aCheck or slowback.a| Dvershen.4|
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Why, |4wonder of wenchalows,4| what |4sezame oszeszame o szeszame4| open, |4the v4| doer |4is it s t4| doing? |4The V4| door |4is s4| being. But how |4the theng4| thingajarry miens but this being becoming |4in the n z4| doer? |4K? Ano.º4| It is |4ne4| not him what foots like a glove, |4the4| shoehandschiner |4Pad Podomkin4|. Sooftly, anni slavey, |4sezushe szszuszchee4| is slowjaneska.

The aged crafty nummifeed confusionary overinsured everlapsing accentuated |4Kate katekattershin4| clopped, clopped, clopped|4, darsey dobrey,4| back and along the danzing corridor, |4as she was going to pimpim him, way boy wally,4|
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not without her complement of |4cavarnan4| men, between the two deathdealing allied divisions and the lines of readypresent fire of the corkedagains' upstored, taken in giving the saloot, band your hands going in, bind your heads coming out, and remoltked to herselp in her serf's alown, |4a weerpovy willowy dreevy drawly and4| the patter of so familiars, |4farabroads and behomeans,4| as she shure |4sknows. sknows, boof for a booby, boo:4| (4New newº4) uses in their mewseyfume. The jammesons is a cook in his hair. And the juinnesses is a rapin his hind. And the Bullingdong caught the wind up. Dip.

And (lead us not into reformication with the poors in your thingdom of gory, O moan!) the message she braught belaw from the missus she bragged abouve that had her agony stays outsize her sari chemise, blancking her shifts for to keep up the fascion since the king of all dronnings kissed her beeswixed hand (|4pierce fangº4| me, hunky, I'm full of meunders!), her fize like a tubtail of mondayne clothes, fed to the chaps with working medicals, and her birthright pang that would split an atam like the forty pins in her hood, was to fader huncher a howdydowdy, to mountainy mots in her amnest plein language, from his fain a wan, his hot and tot |4lass lass,4| to pierce his ropeloop ear, |4was4| how, |4Podushka be prayhasd,4| now the sowns of his loins were awinking and waking and his dorter of the hush lillabilla lullaby, once after males, nonce at a time, with them Murphy's puffs she dursted with gnockmeggs |4and the bramborry cake for dour dorty dompling4|, obayre Mottom Beettom and epsut the pfot, and if he was |4whisthful whishtful4| to licture her caudal |4with |achesty chach from his dauberyº den anda| noviny news from Naul4| or |4toplots talks from morrienbaths
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or
4| a parrotsprate's cure for ensevelised lethurgies, spick's my spoon and the veriblest spoon, 'twas her hour for the chamber's ensallycopodium with love |4from blank to melost Panny Kostello from X. Y.º Zid |aafter them for to follya| billybobbis |aa her gibitsa| porzy |aponzy punzya|4| and she was a wanton for De Marera to take her genial glow to bed.

— This is time for my (+4buttle tubble+)4|, reflected Mr “Gladstone Browne” in the toll hut (it was choractoristic from that “man of Delgany”). Dip.

— This is me vulcanite smoking, profused Mr “Bonaparte Nolan” under the natecup (one feels how one may hereby reekignites the “ground old mahonagyan”). Dip.

— And this is defender of defeater of defaulter of deformer of the funst man in Danelagh, willingtoned in with this glance dowon his browen and that born appalled noodlum the panellite pair's cummal delimitator, odding: Oliver White, he's as tiff as shee's tight. And thisens his speak quite hoarse. Dip.

In reverence to her midgetsy the lady of the comeallyous as madgestoo our own one's goff stature. |4Prosim, prosit, to the krkº |ain n yra| nck!4|
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O rum it is the chomicalest thing how it pickles up the punchey and the jude. If you'll gimmy your thing to me I will gamey a sing to thee. Stay where you're dummy! To get her to go ther. He banged the scoop and she bagged the sugar while the whole pub's pobbel done a stare. On the mizzatint wall. With its chromo for all. Crimm crimms. Showing holdmenag's asses sat by Allmeneck's men, canins to ride with em, canins that lept at em, woollied and flundered.

So the katey's came and the katey's game. |4As so gangs sludgenose.4| And that henchwench what hopped it dunneth |4thereuft there duft4| the. Duras.

[Silents]

Yes, we've conned thon print in its gloss so gay how it came from |4Finndlater's Finndlader's4| Yule to the day and it's Hey Tallaght Hoe on the king's highway with his hounds on the home at a turning. To Donnicoombe Fairing. Millikin's Pass. When visiting at Izd-la-Chapelle taste the life of the waters from Carlowman's Cup.
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It tellyhows its story to their six of hearts, a twelve-eyed man, for whom has modjestky who since is dyed |4has4| drown reign before the izba.

|4⇒ Au! Au! Aue! Ha! Heish!4|

As stage to set by ritual rote for the grimm grimm tale of the four of hyacinths, the deafeeled carp and the bugler's dozen of leagues-in-amour or how Holispolis went to Parkland with mabby and sammy and sonny and sissy and mop's varlet de shambles and all to find the right place for it by peep o' skirt or pipe a skirl when the hundt called a |4check halt4| on the chivvychace of the ground sloper at that lightning lovemaker's thender apeal till, between wandering weather and stable wind, |4vastelend hosteilend, neuziel and |aoltriggery oltriggersomeºa|,4| |4Ballyclever Bullyclubber4| burgherly shut the rush in general.

|4⇒ Let us propel us for the frey of the fray! Us, us, beraddy!4|

|44| |4(Maori) Ko Niutirenis hauru leish! A lala! Ko Niutirenis haururu laleish! Ala lala! The Wullingthund sturm is breaking. The sound of maormaoring. The Wellingthund sturm waxes fuercilier. The whackawhacks of the sturm. Katu te ihis ihis! Katu te wana wana! The strength of the rawshorn generand is known throughout the world. Let us say if we may what a weeny wukeleen can do.4|

|4Au! Au! Aue! Ha! Heish! A lala!4|

|44| Paud the roosky, weren't they all of them then each in his different way of saying calling on the one in the same time hibernian knights underthaner that was |4having having,4| half for the laugh of the bliss it sint barbaras another doesend end once tale of a tublin wished on to him |4with its olives ocolombs and its hills owns ravings and Tutty his tour in his nowhare's
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yarcht
4|. It was before when Aimée stood for Arthurduke for the figger in profane and fell from grace so madlley for |4Phil the fluter fill the flatter4| fellows. (They were saying.) And it was the lang in the shirt in the green of the wood where obelisk rises when odalisks fall, between major threft on the make and jollyjacques spindthrift on the merry. (O Mr Mathurin, they were calling, what a topheavy hat you're in! And there aramy maeud, they were saying, these so pioupious!)
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And it was cyclums cyclorums after he made design on the corse and he want to mess on him (enterellbo add all taller Danis), back, seater and sides and he applied (I'm amazingly sorracer!) the wholed bould shoulderedboy's width for fullness, measures for messieurs, messer's massed (they were saycalling again and agone and all over agun, the louthly meathers, the loudly meaders, the lously measlers, six to one, bar ones).

And they pled him beheighten the firing. Dope.

Maltomeetim, |4all to mate tam alltomatetam4|, when a tale tarries shome shunter shove on. Fore auld they wauld to pree.

Pray.

Of this Mr A (tillalaric) and these wasch woman (dapplehued), fhronehflord and feeofeeds, who had issue keen and able and a spindlesong aside, nothing more is told until now, his awebrume hour, her sere Sahara of sad oakleaves. And then. Be old. The next thing is. We are once amore as babes awondering in a wold made fresh where with the hen in the storyaboot we start from scratch.

|4⇒ So the truce, the old truce and nattonbuff the truce, boys. Drouth is stronger than faction. Slant. Shinshin. Shinshin.4|

|44| It was of The Grant, old gartener, qua golden meddlist, Publius Manlius, fuderal private (his place is his poster, sure, they said, and we're going to mark it, sore, they said, with a carbon caustick manner), bequothed the liberaloider at his petty corporelezzo that hung caughtnapping from his baited breath, it was of him, my wife and I thinks, to feel to every of the younging fruits, tenderosed like an atalantic's breastswells, or, on a second wreathing, a bright tauth bight shimmeryshaking for the welt of his plow. And where the peckadillies at his wristsends meetings be loving so lightly dovesoiled the candidacy, me wipin eye sinks, of his softboiled bosom should be apparient even to our illicterate of nullatenenties.

All to which not a lot snapped The Nolan of the Calabashes at his whilom eweheart photognomist who by this sum taken was as much incensed by Saint Bruno as |4that4| what he had consummed was his own panegoric, and wot a lout about it if it was
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only a pippappoff pigeon shoot that gracesold getrunner, the man of centuries, was bowled out by judge, jury and umpire at batman's biff like a witchbefooled legate. Dupe.