Finnegans Wake - James Joyce [266]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
— Zinzin. — Sold! I am sold! Brinabride! My ersther! My sidster!
Brinabride, goodbye! Brinabride! I sold!
— Pipette dear! Us! Us! Me! Me!
— Fort! Fort! Bayroyt! March!
— Me! I’m true. True! Isolde. Pipette. My precious!
— Zinzin.
— Brinabride, bet my price ! Brinabride !
— My price, my precious?
— Zin.
— Brinabride, my price! When you sell get my price!
— Zin.
— Pipette ! Pipette, my priceless one !
— O ! Mother of my tears ! Believe for me ! Fold thy son !
— Zinzin. Zinzin.
— Now we’re gettin it. Tune in and pick up the forain counties ! Hello !
— Zinzin.
— Hello! Tittit! Tell your title?
— Abride !
— Hellohello! Ballymacarett! Am I thru’ Iss? Miss? True?
— Tit! What is the ti . . ?
SILENCE.
Act drop. Stand by! Blinders! Curtain up. Juice, please! Foots!
— Hello! Are you Cigar shank and Wheat?
— I gotye. Gobble Ann’s Carrot Cans.
— Parfey. Now, after that justajiff siesta, just permit me a moment. Challenger’s Deep is childsplay to this but, by our soundings in the swish channels, land is due. A truce to demobbed swarwords. Clear the line, file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
priority call! Sybil! Better that or this? Sybil Head this end ! Better that way? Follow the baby spot. Yes. Very good now. We are again in the magnetic field. Do you remember on a particular lukesummer night, following a crying fair day? Moisten your lips for a lightning strike and begin again. Mind the flickers and dimmers! Better?
— Well. The isles is Thymes. The ales is Penzance. Vehement Genral. Delhi expulsed.
— Still calling of somewhave from its specific? Not more?
Lesscontinuous. There were fires on every bald hill in holy Ireland that night. Better so?
— You may say they were, son of a cove!
— Were they bonfires? That clear?
— No other name would at all befit them unless that. Bona-fieries! With their blue beards streaming to the heavens.
— Was it a high white night now?
— Whitest night mortal ever saw.
— Was our lord of the heights nigh our lady of the valley?
— He was hosting himself up and flosting himself around and ghosting himself to merry her murmur like an andeanupper balkan.
— Lewd’s carol! Was there rain by any chance, mistandew?
— Plenty. If you wend farranoch.
— There fell some fall of littlewinter snow, holy-as-ivory, I gather, jesse?
— By snaachtha clocka. The nicest at all. In hilly-and-even zimalayars.
— Did it not blow some gales, westnass or ostscent, rather strongly to less, allin humours out of turn, jusse as they rose and sprungen?
— Out of all jokes it did. Pipep! Icecold. Brr na brr, ny prr! Lieto galumphantes ! —Stll cllng! Nmr! Peace, Pacific! Do you happen to recollect whether Muna, that highlucky-nackt, was shining at all?
— Sure she was, my midday darling ! And not one but a pair of pritty geallachers.
— Quando? Quonda? Go datey!
file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
— Latearly! Latearly! Latearly! Latearly!
— That was latterlig certainly. And was there frostwork about and thick weather and hice, soon calid, soon frozen, cold on warm but moistly dry, and a boatshaped blanket of bruma air-sighs and hellstohns and flammballs and vodashouts and every— thing to please everybody?
— Hail many fell of greats! Horey morey smother of fog! There was, so plays your ahrtides. Absolutely boiled. Obsoletely cowled. Julie and Lulie at their parkiest.
— The amenities, the amenities of the amenities with all their amenities. And the firmness of the formous of the famous of the fumous of the first fog in Maidanvale?
— Catchecatche and couchamed!
— From Miss Somer’s nice dream back to Winthrop’s delugium stramens. One expects that kind of rimey feeling in the sire season?
— One certainly does. Desire, for hire, would tire a shire, phone, phunkel, or wire. And mares.
— Of whitecaps any?
— Foamflakes flockfuyant from Foxrock to Finglas.
— A lambskip for the marines!