BOOK: | I | II | III | IV |
|214 | 215 |216 |

them. Is that the Poolbeg flasher beyant, pharphar, or a fireboat1
coasting nyar the Kishtna or a glow I behold within a hedge or2
my Garry come back from the Indes? Wait till the honeying of3
the lune, love! Die eve, little eve, die! We see that wonder in4
your eye. We'll meet again, we'll part once more. The spot I'll5
seek if the hour you'll find. My chart shines high where the blue6
milk's upset. Forgivemequick, I'm going! Bubye! And you,7
pluck your watch, forgetmenot. Your evenlode. So save to8
jurna's end! My sights are swimming thicker on me by the sha-9
dows to this place. I sow home slowly now by own way, moy-10
valley way. Towy I too, rathmine.11
    Ah, but she was the queer old skeowsha anyhow, Anna Livia, 12
trinkettoes! And sure he was the quare old buntz too, Dear Dirty13
Dumpling, foostherfather of fingalls and dotthergills. Gammer14
and gaffer we're all their gangsters. Hadn't he seven dams to wive15
him? And every dam had her seven crutches. And every crutch16
had its seven hues. And each hue had a differing cry. Sudds for17
me and supper for you and the doctor's bill for Joe John. Befor!18
Bifur! He married his markets, cheap by foul, I know, like any19
Etrurian Catholic Heathen, in their pinky limony creamy birnies20
and their turkiss indienne mauves. But at milkidmass who was21
the spouse? Then all that was was fair. Tys Elvenland ! Teems of22
times and happy returns. The seim anew. Ordovico or viricordo.23
Anna was, Livia is, Plurabelle's to be. Northmen's thing made24
southfolk's place but howmulty plurators made eachone in per-25
son? Latin me that, my trinity scholard, out of eure sanscreed into26
oure eryan! Hircus Civis Eblanensis! He had buckgoat paps on27
him, soft ones for orphans. Ho, Lord ! Twins of his bosom. Lord28
save us! And ho! Hey? What all men. Hot? His tittering daugh-29
ters of. Whawk?30
    Can't hear with the waters of. The chittering waters of. Flitter- 31
ing bats, fieldmice bawk talk. Ho! Are you not gone ahome?32
What Thom Malone? Can't hear with bawk of bats, all thim liffey-33
ing waters of. Ho, talk save us ! My foos won't moos. I feel as old34
as yonder elm. A tale told of Shaun or Shem? All Livia's daughter-35
sons. Dark hawks hear us. Night! Night! My ho head halls. I feel36