Inwit of agenbite (incomplete)

* Urbane, to comfort them, the quaker librarian purred:

He came a step a sinkapace forward on neatsleather creaking and a step backward a sinkapace on the solemn floor.

Glittereyed his rufous skull close to his greencapped desklamp sought the face bearded amid darkgreener shadow, an ollav, holyeyed. He laughed low:

In the shadow of the glen he cooees for them. My soul’s youth I gave him, night by night. God speed. Good hunting.

Mulligan has my telegram.
Folly. Persist.

Sumptuous and stagnant exageration of murder.

Cranly, I his mute orderly, following battles from afar.

Whelps and dams of murderous foes whom none
But we had spared ….

Between the Saxon smile and the yankee yawp. The devil and the deep sea.

List! List! O list!

My flesh hears him: creeping, hears.

If thou didst ever ….

It is this hour of a day in mid June, Stephen said, begging with a swift glance their hearing. The flag is up on the playhouse by the bankside. The bear Sackerson growls from a pit near it, Paris garden. Canvas climbers who sailed with Drake chew their sausages among the groundlings.

Flow over them with your waves and with your waters, Mananaan,
Mananaan MacLir ….

How now, sirrah, that pound he lent you when you were hungry?
Marry, I wanted it.
Take thou this noble.
Go to! You spent most of it in Georgina Johnson’s bed, clergyman’s daughter. Agenbite of inwit.
Do you intend to pay it back?
O, yes.
When? Now?
Well …. No.
When, then?
I paid my way. I paid my way.
Steady on. He’s from beyant Boyne water. The northeast corner. You owe it.
Wait. Five months. Molecules all change. I am other I now. Other I got pound.
Buzz. Buzz.
But I, entelechy, form of forms, am I by memory because under everchanging forms.
I that sinned and prayed and fasted.
A child Conmee saved from pandies.
I, I and I. I.
A. E. I. O. U.

I wept alone
John Eglinton looked in the tangled glowworm of his lamp.

Crosslegged under umbrel umbershoot he thrones an Aztec logos, functioning on astral levels, their oversoul, mahamahatma. The faithful hermetists await the light, ripe for chelaship, ringroundabout him. Lotus ladies tend them i’the eyes, their pineal glands aglow. Filled with his god, he thrones, Buddh under plantain. Gulfer of souls, engulfer. Hesouls, shesouls, shoals of souls. Engulfed with wailing creecries, whirled, whirling, they bewail.

In quintessential triviality
For years in this fleshcase a shesoul dwelt.

Anxiously  he glanced in the cone of lamplight where three faces, lighted, shone.
See this. Remember.

— Where there is a reconciliation, Stephen said, there must have been first a sundering.

— Yes.

Christfox in leather trews, hiding, a runaway in blighted treeforks, from hue and cry. Knowing no vixen, walking lonely in the chase. Women he won to him, tender people, a whore of Babylon, ladies of justices, bully tapsters’ wives. Fox and geese. And in New Place a slack dishonoured body that once was comely, once as sweet, as fresh as cinnamon, now her leaves falling, all, bare, frighted of the narrow grave and unforgiven.

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