Thursday, May 29, 2014

Page 47 (3.370-405) "Shouldering... back to the"


editions: [1922] [html] [arch]
notes: [Th] [G&S] [Dent] [wbks] [rw] [images] [hyper] [map]
Delaney: [138] [139] [140] [141] [142] [143] [144] [145] Useen: [] [*]
Delaney: [137]

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Delaney: [138]
Shouldering their bags they trudged, the red Egyptians. His blued feet out of turnedup trousers slapped the clammy sand, a dull brick muffler strangling his unshaven neck. With woman steps she followed: the ruffian and his strolling mort. Spoils slung at her back. Loose sand and shellgrit crusted her bare feet. About her windraw face hair trailed. Behind her lord his helpmate, bing awast to Romeville.


Delaney: [139]
When night hides her body's flaws calling under her brown shawl from an archway where dogs have mired. Her fancyman is treating two Royal Dublins in O'Loughlin's of Blackpitts. Buss her, wap in rogues' rum lingo, for, O, my dimber wapping dell! A shefiend's whiteness under her rancid rags. Fumbally's lane that night: the tanyard smells.

Fumbally lane


Delaney: [140]

White thy fambles, red thy gan
And thy quarrons dainty is.
Couch a hogshead with me then.
In the darkmans clip and kiss.
[etext]



Morose delectation Aquinas tunbelly calls this, frate porcospino. Unfallen Adam rode and not rutted. Call away let him: thy quarrons dainty is. Language no whit worse than his. Monkwords, marybeads jabber on their girdles: roguewords, tough nuggets patter in their pockets.
Passing now.



Delaney: [141]
A side-eye at my Hamlet hat. If I were suddenly naked here as I sit? I am not. Across the sands of all the world, followed by the sun's flaming sword, to the west, trekking to evening lands.

Hamlet IV.v "By his cockle hat and staff"


Delaney: [142]
She trudges, schlepps, trains, drags, trascines her load. A tide westering, moondrawn, in her wake. Tides, myriadislanded, within her, blood not mine, oinopa ponton, a winedark sea. Behold the handmaid of the moon. In sleep the wet sign calls her hour, bids her rise. Bridebed, childbed, bed of death, ghostcandled. Omnis caro ad te veniet.


Delaney: [143]
He comes, pale vampire, through storm his eyes, his bat sails bloodying the sea, mouth to her mouth's kiss.
Here. Put a pin in that chap, will you? My tablets. Mouth to her kiss. No. Must be two of em. Glue em well. Mouth to her mouth's kiss.


Hamlet I.v "My tables,—meet it is I set it down"
cf "His mouth to my mouth"

Delaney: [144]
His lips lipped and mouthed fleshless lips of air: mouth to her womb. Oomb, allwombing tomb. His mouth moulded issuing breath, unspeeched: ooeeehah: roar of cataractic planets, globed, blazing, roaring wayawayawayawayaway.


Delaney: [145]
Paper. The banknotes, blast them. Old Deasy's letter. Here. Thanking you for hospitality tear the blank end off. Turning his back to the

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mysteries:


[PM 35:19-39:07]

[DD 00:41-05:11]

[IM 37:08-40:58]

[LV1 33:14-36:40]

[LV2 30:18-33:18]


proteus: 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50


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