Sétimo encontro (14/02)

P. 202

that's agapo! Tell me, tell me, how cam she camlin through all	7
her fellows, the neckar she was, the diveline? Casting her perils	8
before our swains from Fonte-in-Monte to Tidingtown and	9
from Tidingtown tilhavet. Linking one and knocking the next,	10
tapting a flank and tipting a jutty and palling in and pietaring	11
out and clyding by on her eastway. Waiwhou was the first thur-	12
ever burst? Someone he was, whuebra they were, in a tactic attack	13
or in single combat. Tinker, tilar, souldrer, salor, Pieman Peace	14
or Polistaman. That's the thing I'm elwys on edge to esk. Push	15
up and push vardar and come to uphill headquarters! Was it	16
waterlows year, after Grattan or Flood, or when maids were in	17
Arc or when three stood hosting? Fidaris will find where the	18
Doubt arises like Nieman from Nirgends found the Nihil. Worry	19
you sighin foh, Albern, O Anser? Untie the gemman's fistiknots,	20
Qvic and Nuancee! She can't put her hand on him for the mo-	21
ment. Tez thelon langlo, walking weary! Such a loon waybash-	22
wards to row! She sid herself she hardly knows whuon the annals	23
her graveller was, a dynast of Leinster, a wolf of the sea, or what	24
he did or how blyth she played or how, when, why, where and	25
who offon he jumpnad her and how it was gave her away. She	26
was just a young thin pale soft shy slim slip of a thing then,	27
sauntering, by silvamoonlake and he was a heavy trudging	28
lurching lieabroad of a Curraghman, making his hay for whose	29
sun to shine on, as tough as the oaktrees (peats be with them!)	30
used to rustle that time down by the dykes of killing Kildare,	31
for forstfellfoss with a plash across her. She thought she's sankh	32
neathe the ground with nymphant shame when he gave her the	33
tigris eye ! O happy fault ! Me wish it was he ! You're wrong there,	34
corribly wrong! Tisn't only tonight you're anacheronistic! It	35
was ages behind that when nullahs were nowhere, in county	36

P. 203

Wickenlow, garden of Erin, before she ever dreamt she'd lave	1
Kilbride and go foaming under Horsepass bridge, with the great	2
southerwestern windstorming her traces and the midland's grain-	3
waster asarch for her track, to wend her ways byandby, robecca	4
or worse, to spin and to grind, to swab and to thrash, for all her	5
golden lifey in the barleyfields and pennylotts of Humphrey's	6
fordofhurdlestown and lie with a landleaper, wellingtonorseher.	7
Alesse, the lagos of girly days! For the dove of the dunas! Was-	8
ut? Izod? Are you sarthin suir? Not where the Finn fits into the	9
Mourne, not where the Nore takes lieve of Bloem, not where the	10
Braye divarts the Farer, not where the Moy changez her minds	11
twixt Cullin and Conn tween Cunn and Collin? Or where Neptune	12
sculled and Tritonville rowed and leandros three bumped heroines	13
two? Neya, narev, nen, nonni, nos ! Then whereabouts in Ow and	14
Ovoca? Was it yst with wyst or Lucan Yokan or where the hand	15
of man has never set foot? Dell me where, the fairy ferse time! I	16
will if you listen. You know the dinkel dale of Luggelaw? Well,	17
there once dwelt a local heremite, Michael Arklow was his river-	18
end name, (with many a sigh I aspersed his lavabibs!) and one	19
venersderg in junojuly, oso sweet and so cool and so limber she	20
looked, Nance the Nixie, Nanon L'Escaut, in the silence, of the sy-	21
comores, all listening, the kindling curves you simply can't stop	22
feeling, he plunged both of his newly anointed hands, the core of	23
his cushlas, in her singimari saffron strumans of hair, parting them	24
and soothing her and mingling it, that was deepdark and ample	25
like this red bog at sundown. By that Vale Vowclose's lucydlac,	26
the reignbeau's heavenarches arronged orranged her. Afroth-	27
dizzying galbs, her enamelled eyes indergoading him on to the	28
vierge violetian. Wish a wish! Why a why? Mavro ! Letty Lerck's	29
lafing light throw those laurals now on her daphdaph teasesong	30
petrock. Maass! But the majik wavus has elfun anon meshes.	31
And Simba the Slayer of his Oga is slewd. He cuddle not help	32
himself, thurso that hot on him, he had to forget the monk in	33
the man so, rubbing her up and smoothing her down, he baised	34
his lippes in smiling mood, kiss akiss after kisokushk (as he	35
warned her niver to, niver to, nevar) on Anna-na-Poghue's of	36

P. 204

the freckled forehead. While you'd parse secheressa she hielt her	1
souff'. But she ruz two feet hire in her aisne aestumation. And	2
steppes on stilts ever since. That was kissuahealing with bantur	3
for balm! O, wasn't he the bold priest? And wasn't she the	4
naughty Livvy? Nautic Naama's now her navn. Two lads in	5
scoutsch breeches went through her before that, Barefoot Burn	6
and Wallowme Wade, Lugnaquillia's noblesse pickts, before she	7
had a hint of a hair at her fanny to hide or a bossom to tempt a	8
birch canoedler not to mention a bulgic porterhouse barge. And	9
ere that again, leada, laida, all unraidy, too faint to buoy the	10
fairiest rider, too frail to flirt with a cygnet's plume, she was licked	11
by a hound, Chirripa-Chirruta, while poing her pee, pure and	12
simple, on the spur of the hill in old Kippure, in birdsong and	13
shearingtime, but first of all, worst of all, the wiggly livvly, she	14
sideslipped out by a gap in the Devil's glen while Sally her nurse	15
was sound asleep in a sloot and, feefee fiefie, fell over a spillway	16
before she found her stride and lay and wriggled in all the stag-	17
nant black pools of rainy under a fallow coo and she laughed	18
innocefree with her limbs aloft and a whole drove of maiden	19
hawthorns blushing and looking askance upon her.	20

P. 206

First she let her hair fal and down it flussed to her feet its	29
teviots winding coils. Then, mothernaked, she sampood herself	30
with galawater and fraguant pistania mud, wupper and lauar,	31
from crown to sole. Next she greesed the groove of her keel,	32
warthes and wears and mole and itcher, with antifouling butter-	33
scatch and turfentide and serpenthyme and with leafmould she	34
ushered round prunella isles and eslats dun, quincecunct, allover	35
her little mary. Peeld gold of waxwork her jellybelly and her	36

P. 207

grains of incense anguille bronze. And after that she wove a gar-	1
land for her hair. She pleated it. She plaited it. Of meadowgrass	2
and riverflags, the bulrush and waterweed, and of fallen griefs of	3
weeping willow. Then she made her bracelets and her anklets	4
and her armlets and a jetty amulet for necklace of clicking cobbles	5
and pattering pebbles and rumbledown rubble, richmond and	6
rehr, of Irish rhunerhinerstones and shellmarble bangles. That	7
done, a dawk of smut to her airy ey, Annushka Lutetiavitch	8
Pufflovah, and the lellipos cream to her lippeleens and the pick	9
of the paintbox for her pommettes, from strawbirry reds to	10
extra violates, and she sendred her boudeloire maids to His	11
Affluence, Ciliegia Grande and Kirschie Real, the two chirsines,	12
with respecks from his missus, seepy and sewery, and a request	13
might she passe of him for a minnikin. A call to pay and light a	14
taper, in Brie-on-Arrosa, back in a sprizzling. The cock striking	15
mine, the stalls bridely sign, there's Zambosy waiting for Me!	16
She said she wouldn't be half her length away. Then, then, as	17
soon as the lump his back was turned, with her mealiebag slang	18
over her shulder, Anna Livia, oysterface, forth of her bassein	19
came.	20

P. 213

Well, you know or don't you kennet or haven't I told you	11
every telling has a taling and that's the he and the she of it. Look,	12
look, the dusk is growing! My branches lofty are taking root.	13
And my cold cher's gone ashley. Fieluhr? Filou! What age is at?	14
It saon is late. 'Tis endless now senne eye or erewone last saw	15
Waterhouse's clogh. They took it asunder, I hurd thum sigh.	16
When will they reassemble it? O, my back, my back, my bach!	17
I'd want to go to Aches-les-Pains. Pingpong! There's the Belle	18
for Sexaloitez! And Concepta de Send-us-pray! Pang! Wring out	19
the clothes! Wring in the dew! Godavari, vert the showers! And	20
grant thaya grace! Aman. Will we spread them here now? Ay,	21
we will. Flip ! Spread on your bank and I'll spread mine on mine.	22
Flep! It's what I'm doing. Spread ! It's churning chill. Der went is	23
rising. I'll lay a few stones on the hostel sheets. A man and his bride	24
embraced between them. Else I'd have sprinkled and folded them	25
only. And I'll tie my butcher's apron here. It's suety yet. The	26
strollers will pass it by. Six shifts, ten kerchiefs, nine to hold to	27
the fire and this for the code, the convent napkins, twelve, one	28
baby's shawl. Good mother Jossiph knows, she said. Whose	29
head? Mutter snores? Deataceas! Wharnow are alle her childer,	30
say? In kingdome gone or power to come or gloria be to them	31
farther? Allalivial, allalluvial! Some here, more no more, more	32
again lost alla stranger. I've heard tell that same brooch of the	33
Shannons was married into a family in Spain. And all the Dun-	34
ders de Dunnes in Markland's Vineland beyond Brendan's herring	35
pool takes number nine in yangsee's hats. And one of Biddy's	36

P. 214

beads went bobbing till she rounded up lost histereve with a	1
marigold and a cobbler's candle in a side strain of a main drain	2
of a manzinahurries off Bachelor's Walk. But all that's left to the	3
last of the Meaghers in the loup of the years prefixed and between	4
is one kneebuckle and two hooks in the front. Do you tell me.	5
that now? I do in troth. Orara por Orbe and poor Las Animas!	6
Ussa, Ulla, we're umbas all! Mezha, didn't you hear it a deluge of	7
times, ufer and ufer, respund to spond? You deed, you deed! I	8
need, I need! It's that irrawaddyng I've stoke in my aars. It all	9
but husheth the lethest zswound. Oronoko ! What's your trouble?	10
Is that the great Finnleader himself in his joakimono on his statue	11
riding the high horse there forehengist? Father of Otters, it is	12
himself! Yonne there! Isset that? On Fallareen Common? You're	13
thinking of Astley's Amphitheayter where the bobby restrained	14
you making sugarstuck pouts to the ghostwhite horse of the	15
Peppers. Throw the cobwebs from your eyes, woman, and spread	16
your washing proper! It's well I know your sort of slop. Flap!	17
Ireland sober is Ireland stiff Lord help you, Maria, full of grease,	18
the load is with me! Your prayers. I sonht zo! Madammangut!	19
Were you lifting your elbow, tell us, glazy cheeks, in Conway's	20
Carrigacurra canteen? Was I what, hobbledyhips? Flop! Your	21
rere gait's creakorheuman bitts your butts disagrees. Amn't I	22
up since the damp dawn, marthared mary allacook, with Corri-	23
gan's pulse and varicoarse veins, my pramaxle smashed, Alice	24
Jane in decline and my oneeyed mongrel twice run over, soaking	25
and bleaching boiler rags, and sweating cold, a widow like me,	26
for to deck my tennis champion son, the laundryman with the	27
lavandier flannels? You won your limpopo limp fron the husky	28
hussars when Collars and Cuffs was heir to the town and your	29
slur gave the stink to Carlow. Holy Scamander, I sar it again!	30
Near the golden falls. Icis on us! Seints of light! Zezere! Subdue	31
your noise, you hamble creature! What is it but a blackburry	32
growth or the dwyergray ass them four old codgers owns. Are	33
you meanam Tarpey and Lyons and Gregory? I meyne now,	34
thank all, the four of them, and the roar of them, that draves	35
that stray in the mist and old Johnny MacDougal along with	36

P. 215

them. Is that the Poolbeg flasher beyant, pharphar, or a fireboat	1
coasting nyar the Kishtna or a glow I behold within a hedge or	2
my Garry come back from the Indes? Wait till the honeying of	3
the lune, love! Die eve, little eve, die! We see that wonder in	4
your eye. We'll meet again, we'll part once more. The spot I'll	5
seek if the hour you'll find. My chart shines high where the blue	6
milk's upset. Forgivemequick, I'm going! Bubye! And you,	7
pluck your watch, forgetmenot. Your evenlode. So save to	8
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 Dirty	13
Dumpling, foostherfather of fingalls and dotthergills. Gammer	14
and gaffer we're all their gangsters. Hadn't he seven dams to wive	15
him? And every dam had her seven crutches. And every crutch	16
had its seven hues. And each hue had a differing cry. Sudds for	17
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 any	19
Etrurian Catholic Heathen, in their pinky limony creamy birnies	20
and their turkiss indienne mauves. But at milkidmass who was	21
the spouse? Then all that was was fair. Tys Elvenland ! Teems of	22
times and happy returns. The seim anew. Ordovico or viricordo.	23
Anna was, Livia is, Plurabelle's to be. Northmen's thing made	24
southfolk's place but howmulty plurators made eachone in per-	25
son? Latin me that, my trinity scholard, out of eure sanscreed into	26
oure eryan! Hircus Civis Eblanensis! He had buckgoat paps on	27
him, soft ones for orphans. Ho, Lord ! Twins of his bosom. Lord	28
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 old	34
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 feel	36

P. 216

as heavy as yonder stone. Tell me of John or Shaun? Who were	1
Shem and Shaun the living sons or daughters of? Night now!	2
Tell me, tell me, tell me, elm! Night night! Telmetale of stem or	3
stone. Beside the rivering waters of, hitherandthithering waters	4
of. Night!	5