Finnegans Wake - James Joyce [254]
— Y?
— Before You!
— Ecko ! How sweet thee answer makes ! Afterwheres? In the land of lions’ odor?
— Friends ! First if yu don’t mind. Name yur historical grouns.
— This same prehistoric barrow ’tis, the orangery.
— I see. Very good now. It is in your orangery, I take it, you have your letters. Can you hear here me, you sir?
— Throsends. For my darling. Typette!
— So long aforetime? Can you hear better?
— Millions. For godsends. For my darling dearling one.
— Now, to come nearer zone; I would like to raise my deuterous point audibly touching this. There is this maggers. I am told by our interpreter, Hanner Esellus, that there are fully six hundred and six ragwords in your malherbal Magis landeguage in which wald wand rimes alpman and there is resin in all roots for monarch but yav hace not one pronouncable teerm that blows in all the vallums of tartallaght to signify majestate, even provisionally, nor no rheda rhoda or torpentine path or hallucinian via nor aurellian gape nor sunkin rut nor grossgrown trek nor crimeslaved cruxway and no moorhens cry or mooner’s plankgang there to lead us to hopenhaven. Is such the unde derivatur casematter messio! Frankly. Magis megis enerretur mynus hoc intelligow.
— How? C’est mal prononsable, tartagliano, perfrances. Vous n’avez pas d’o dans votre boche provenciale, mousoo. Je m’incline mais Moy jay file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
trouvay la clee dang les champs. Hay sham nap poddy velour, come on!
— Hep there! Commong, sa na pa de valure? Whu’s teit dans yur jambs?
Whur’s that inclining and talkin about the messiah so cloover? A true’s to your trefling! Whure yu!
— Trinathan partnick dieudonnay. Have you seen her? Typette, my tactile O!
— Are you in your fatherick, lonely one?
— The same. Three persons. Have you seen my darling only one? I am sohohold!
— What are yu shevering about, ultramontane, like a houn? Is there cold on ye, doraphobian? Or do yu want yur primafairy schoolmam?
— The woods of fogloot! O mis padredges!
— Whisht awhile, greyleg! The duck is rising and you’ll wake that stand of plover. I know that place better than anyone. Sure, I used to be always overthere on the fourth day at my grandmother’s place, Tear-nan-Ogre, my little grey home in the west, in or about Mayo when the long dog gave tongue and they coursing the marches and they straining at the leash. Tortoiseshell for a guineagould ! Burb ! Burb ! Burb ! Follow me up Tucurlugh! That’s the place for the claire oysters, Polldoody, County Conway. I never knew how rich I was like another story in the zoedone of the zephyros, strolling and strolling, carrying my dragoman, Meads Marvel, thass withumpronouceable tail, along the shore. Do you know my cousin, Mr Jasper Dougal that keeps the Anchor on the Mountain, the parson’s son, Jasper of the Tuns, Pat Whateveryournameis?
— Dood and I dood. The wolves of Fochlut! By Whydoyoucallme? Do not flingamejig to the twolves!
— Turcafiera amd that’s a good wan right enough! Wooluvs no less!
— One moment now, if I foreshorten the bloss on your bleather. Encroachement spells erosion. Dunlin and turnstone augur us where, how and when best as to burial of carcass, fuselage of dump and committal of noisance. But, since you invocate austers for the trailing of vixens, I would like to send a cormorant around this blue lagoon. Tell me now this. You told my larned friend rather previously, a moment since, about this mound or barrow. Now I suggest to you that ere there was this plagueburrow, as you seem to call it, there was a burialbattell, the boat of millions of years. Would you bear me out in that, relatively speaking, with her jackstaff jerking at her pennyladders, why not, and sizing a fair sail, file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
knowest thout the kind? The Pourquoi Pas, bound for Weissduwasland,