And they are met, face a facing. They are
set, force to force.
And no such Copenhague-Marengo was less so
fated for a fall
since in Glenasmole of Smiling Thrushes
Patch Whyte passed
O'Sheen ascowl.
Arrest thee, scaldbrother! came the evangelion, sabre accu-
sant, from all Saint Joan's Wood to kill
or maim him, and be
dumm but ill s'arrested. Et would proffer
to his delected one the
his trifle from the grass.
A space. Who are you? The cat's mother. A time. What do
you lack? The look of a queen.
But what is that which is one going to prehend? Seeks, buzzling
is brains, the feinder.
The howtosayto itiswhatis hemustwhomust worden schall.
A darktongues, kunning. O theoperil!
Ethiaop lore, the poor lie.
He askit of the hoothed fireshield but it
was untergone into the
matthued heaven. He soughed it from the
luft but that bore ne
mark ne message. He luked upon the
bloomingrund where ongly
his corns were growning. At last he listed
back to beckline how
she pranked alone so johntily. The skand
for schooling.
With nought a wired from the wordless either.
Item. He was hardset then. He wented to go (somewhere) while
he was weeting. Utem. He wished to grieve
on the good persons, that
is the four gentlemen. Otem. And it was
not a long time till he was
feeling true forim he was goodda purssia
and it was short after that
he was fooling mehaunt to mehynte he was
an injine ruber. Etem.
He was at his thinker's aunts to give (the
four gentlemen) the presence
(of a curpse). And this is what he would
be willing. He fould the
fourd; they found the hurtled stones; they
fell ill with the gravy
duck: and he sod town with the roust of
the meast. Atem.
Towhere byhangs ourtales.
-- Finnegans Wake