Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Page 255 (11.373-409) "Fortune... Do! Sonnez!"

editions: [1922] [html] [archv]
notes: [Th] [G&S] [Dent] [] [wbks] [rw] [images] [hyper]
Delaney: [0] Useen: [] [cp] maps: [other] [*]


— Fortune, he wished, lifting his bubbled ale.

sloegin is neither bubbly nor ale

— Sceptre will win in a canter, he said.

— I plunged a bit, said Boylan winking and drinking. Not on my own, you know. Fancy of a friend of mine.

Lenehan still drank and grinned at his tilted ale and at Miss Douce's lips that all but hummed, not shut, the oceansong her lips had trilled. Idolores. The eastern seas.

Clock whirred. Miss Kennedy passed their way (flower, wonder who gave), bearing away teatray. Clock clacked.

Miss Douce took Boylan's coin, struck boldly the cashregister. It clanged. Clock clacked. Fair one of Egypt teased and sorted in the till and hummed and handed coins in change. Look to the west. A clack. For me.

— What time is that? asked Blazes Boylan. Four?


Lenehan, small eyes ahunger on her humming, bust ahumming, tugged Blazes Boylan's elbowsleeve.

— Let's hear the time, he said.

The bag of Goulding, Collis, Ward led Bloom by ryebloom flowered tables. Aimless he chose with agitated aim, bald Pat attending, a table near the door. Be near. At four. Has he forgotten? Perhaps a trick. Not come: whet appetite. I couldn't do. Wait, wait. Pat, waiter, waited.


Sparkling bronze azure eyed Blazure's skyblue bow and eyes.

— Go on, pressed Lenehan. There's no-one. He never heard. Flora's lips did hie.

High, a high note, pealed in the treble, clear.

Bronzedouce, communing with her rose that sank and rose, sought Blazes Boylan's flower and eyes.

— Please, please.

He pleaded over returning phrases of avowal.

I could not leave thee...

— Afterwits, Miss Douce promised coyly.

— No, now, urged Lenehan. Sonnez la cloche! O do! There's no-one.

'sound the bell'

She looked. Quick. Miss Kenn out of earshot. Sudden bent. Two kindling faces watched her bend.

Quavering the chords strayed from the air, found it again, lost chord, and lost and found it, faltering.

'Lost Chord'

Simon's limited piano skills

— Go on! Do! Sonnez!




sirens: 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268 269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277 278 279

No comments:

Post a Comment