BOOK: | I | II | III | IV |
|470 | 471 |472 |

Paza! Paisy! Irine! Areinette! Bridomay! Bentamai! Soso-1
sopky! Bebebekka! Bababadkessy! Ghugugoothoyou! Dama!2
Damadomina! Takiya! Tokaya! Scioccara! Siuccherillina! Peoc-3
chia! Peucchia! Ho Mi Hoping! Ha Me Happinice! Mirra! My-4
rha! Solyma! Salemita! Sainta! Sianta! O Peace!), but in self-5
righting the balance of his corporeity to reexchange widerem-6
brace with the pillarbosom of the Dizzier he loved prettier, be-7
tween estellos and venoussas, bad luck to the lie but when next8
to nobody expected, their star and gartergazer at the summit of9
his climax, he toppled a lipple on to the off and, making a brand-10
new start for himself to run down his easting, by blessing hes11
sthers with the sign of the southern cross, his bungaloid borsa-12
line with the hedgygreen bound blew off in a loveblast (award13
for trover!) and Jawjon Redhead, bucketing after, meccamaniac,14
(the headless shall have legs!), kingscouriered round with an easy15
rush and ready relays by the bridge a stadion beyond Ladycastle16
(and what herm but he narrowly missed fouling her buttress for17
her but for he acqueducked) and then, cocking a snook at the18
stock of his sermons, so mear and yet so fahr from that region's19
general, away with him at the double, the hulk of a garron,20
pelting after the road, on Shanks's mare, let off like a wind hound21
loose (the bouchal! you'd think it was that moment they gave22
him the jambos!) with a posse of tossing hankerwaves to his23
windward like seraph's summonses on the air and a tempest of24
good things in packetshape teeming from all accounts into the25
funnel of his fanmail shrimpnet, along the highroad of the26
nation, Traitor's Track, following which fond floral fray he was27
quickly lost to sight through the statuemen though without a28
doubt he was all the more on that same head to memory dear29
while Sickerson, that borne of bjoerne, la garde auxiliaire she30
murmured, hellyg Ursulinka, full of woe (and how fitlier should31
goodboy's hand be shook than by the warmin of her besom32
that wrung his swaddles?): Where maggot Harvey kneeled till bags?33
Ate Andrew coos hogdam farvel!34
    Wethen, now, may the good people speed you, rural Haun,35
export stout fellow that you are, the crooner born with sweet36