Page 182

From FinnegansWiki
Jump to navigationJump to search

TOC

Page 181 Page 183

shamiana, how few or how many of the most venerated public
impostures, how very many piously forged palimpsests slipped
in the first place by this morbid process from his pelagiarist pen?
    Be that as it may, but for that light phantastic of his gnose's 
glow as it slid lucifericiously within an inch of its page (he would
touch at its from time to other, the red eye of his fear in
saddishness, to ensign the colours by the beerlitz in his mathness
and his educandees to outhue to themselves in the cries of girl-
glee: gember ! inkware ! chonchambre ! cinsero ! zinnzabar ! tinc-
ture and gin!) Nibs never would have quilled a seriph to
sheepskin. By that rosy lampoon's effluvious burning and with
help of the simulchronic flush in his pann (a ghinee a ghirk he
ghets there!) he scrabbled and scratched and scriobbled and
skrevened nameless shamelessness about everybody ever he met,
even sharing a precipitation under the idlish tarriers' umbrella
of a showerproof wall, while all over up and down the four
margins of this rancid Shem stuff the evilsmeller (who was
devoted to Uldfadar Sardanapalus) used to stipple endlessly
inartistic portraits of himself in the act of reciting old
Nichiabelli's monolook interyerear Hanno, o Nonanno, acce'l
brubblemm'as, ser Autore, q.e.d., a heartbreakingly handsome
young paolo with love lyrics for the goyls in his eyols, a plain-
tiff's tanner vuice, a jucal inkome of one hundred and thirtytwo
dranchmas per yard from Broken Hill stranded estate, Came-
breech mannings, cutting a great dash in a brandnew two guinea
dress suit and a burled hogsford hired for a Fursday evenin
merry pawty, anna loavely long pair of inky Italian moostarshes
glistering with boric vaseline and frangipani. Puh! How un-
whisperably so!
    The house O'Shea or O'Shame, Quivapieno, known as the 
Haunted Inkbottle, no number Brimstone Walk, Asia in Ireland,
as it was infested with the raps, with his penname SHUT sepia-
scraped on the doorplate and a blind of black sailcloth over its
wan phwinshogue, in which the soulcontracted son of the secret
cell groped through life at the expense of the taxpayers, dejected
into day and night with jesuit bark and bitter bite, calico-