03:031;0000@@@@@|
03:031;0001@b   | Ineluctable modality of the visible: at least that$6#2$ if no$2$ more, thought
03:031;0002@b   | through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here to$9$ read, seaspawn and
03:031;0003@b   | seawrack, the nearing tide, that$6#2$ rusty boot. Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust:
03:031;0004@b   | coloured signs. Limits of the diaphane. But he adds: in$4$ bodies. Then he was
03:031;0005@b   | aware of them bodies before of them coloured. How? By$4$ knocking his
03:031;0006@b   | sconce against them, sure. Go easy. Bald he was and a millionaire, \maestro\
03:031;0007@b   | \di color che sanno\. Limit of the diaphane in$5$. Why in$5$? Diaphane,
03:031;0008@b   | adiaphane. If you can put your five fingers through it it is a gate, if not a
03:031;0009@b   | door. Shut your eyes and see.
03:031;0010['  ]| Stephen closed his eyes to$9$ hear his boots crush crackling wrack and
03:031;0011['  ]| shells. 
03:031;0011@b   | You are walking through it howsomever. I am, a stride at a time. A
03:031;0012@b   | very short space of time through very short times of space. Five, six: the
03:031;0013@b   | \Nacheinander\. Exactly: and that$6#2$ is the ineluctable modality of the audible.
03:031;0014@b   | Open your eyes. No$7$. Jesus! If I fell over a cliff that$6#1$ beetles o'er his base, fell
03:031;0015@b   | through the \Nebeneinander\ ineluctably! I am getting on$5$ nicely in$4$ the dark.
03:031;0016@b   | My ash sword hangs at my side. Tap with it: they do. My two feet in$4$ his
03:031;0017@b   | boots are at the ends of his legs, \nebeneinander\. Sounds solid: made by$4$ the
03:031;0018@b   | mallet of Los \demiurgos\. Am I walking into eternity along Sandymount
03:031;0019@b   | strand? Crush, crack, crick, crick. Wild sea money. Dominie*Deasy kens
03:031;0020@b   | them a'.
03:031;0021[Z  ]| \Will$1$ not you come to$4$ Sandymount,\
03:031;0022[Z  ]| \Madeline the mare?\
03:031;0023@b   | Rhythm begins, you see. I hear. Acatalectic tetrameter of iambs
03:031;0024@b   | marching. No$7$, agallop: \deline the mare\.
03:031;0025@b   | Open your eyes now. I will$1$. One moment. Has all vanished since? If I
03:031;0026@b   | open and am for*ever in$4$ the black adiaphane. \Basta!\ I will$1$ see if I can see.
03:031;0027@b   | See now. There all the time without you: and ever shall be, world
03:031;0028@b   | without end.
03:031;0029['  ]| They came down the steps from Leahy's*terrace prudently,
03:031;0030['  ]| \Frauenzimmer\: and down the shelving shore flabbily, their splayed feet
03:031;0031['  ]| sinking in$4$ the silted sand.
03:031;0031@b   | Like$4$ me, like$4$ Algy, coming down to$4$ our mighty
03:031;0032@b   | mother.
03:031;0032['  ]| Number one swung lourdily her midwife's bag, the other's gamp
03:031;0033['  ]| poked in$4$ the beach. 
03:031;0033@b   | From the liberties, out for$4$ the day. Mrs*Florence*MacCabe,
03:031;0034@b   | relict of the late Patk*MacCabe, deeply lamented, of Bride*Street.
03:032;0035@b   | One of her sisterhood lugged me squealing into life. Creation from nothing.
03:032;0036@b   | What has she in$4$ the bag? A misbirth with a trailing navelcord, hushed in$4$
03:032;0037@b   | ruddy wool. The cords of all link back, strandentwining cable of all flesh.
03:032;0038@b   | That$6#2$ is why mystic monks. Will$1$ you be as gods? Gaze in$4$ your \omphalos\.
03:032;0039@b   | Hello! Kinch here. Put me on$5$ to$4$ Edenville. Aleph, alpha: nought, nought,
03:032;0040@b   | one.
03:032;0041@b   | Spouse and helpmate of Adam*Kadmon: Heva, naked Eve. She had
03:032;0042@b   | no$2$ navel. Gaze. Belly without blemish, bulging big, a buckler of taut vellum,
03:032;0043@b   | no$2$, whiteheaped corn, orient and immortal, standing from everlasting to$4$
03:032;0044@b   | everlasting. Womb of sin.
03:032;0045@b   | Wombed in$4$ sin darkness I was too, made not begotten. By$4$ them, the
03:032;0046@b   | man with my voice and my eyes and a ghostwoman with ashes on$4$ her
03:032;0047@b   | breath. They clasped and sundered, did the coupler's will$0$. From before the
03:032;0048@b   | ages He willed me and now may not will$1#1$ me away or ever. A \lex eterna\
03:032;0049@b   | stays about Him. Is that$6#2$ then the divine substance wherein Father and Son
03:032;0050@b   | are consubstantial? Where is poor dear Arius to$9$ try conclusions? Warring
03:032;0051@b   | his life long upon$4$ the contransmagnificandjewbangtantiality. Illstarred
03:032;0052@b   | heresiarch! In$4$ a Greek watercloset he breathed his last: \euthanasia\. With
03:032;0053@b   | beaded mitre and with crozier, stalled upon$4$ his throne, widower of a
03:032;0054@b   | widowed see, with upstiffed \omophorion\, with clotted hinderparts.
03:032;0055@b   | Airs romped round him, nipping and eager airs. They are coming,
03:032;0056@b   | waves. The whitemaned seahorses, champing, brightwindbridled, the steeds
03:032;0057@b   | of Mananaan.
03:032;0058@b   | I must not forget his letter for$4$ the press. And after? The Ship, half
03:032;0059@b   | twelve. By$4$ the way go easy with that$6#2$ money like$4$ a good young imbecile.
03:032;0060@b   | Yes, I must.
03:032;0061['  ]| His pace slackened. 
03:032;0061@b   | Here. Am I going to$4$ aunt Sara's or not? My
03:032;0062@b   | consubstantial father's voice.
03:032;0062[XX ]| Did you see anything of your artist brother
03:032;0063[XX ]| Stephen lately? No$7$? Sure he is not down in$4$ Strasburg*terrace with his aunt
03:032;0064[XX ]| Sally? Could not he fly a bit higher than that$6#2$, eh? And and and and tell us,
03:032;0065[XX ]| Stephen, how is uncle Si? O, weeping God, the things I married into! De
03:032;0066[XX ]| boys up$5$ in$4$ de hayloft. The drunken little costdrawer and his brother, the
03:032;0067[XX ]| cornet player. Highly respectable gondoliers! And skeweyed Walter sirring
03:032;0068[XX ]| his father, no$2$ less! Sir. Yes, sir. No$7$, sir. Jesus wept: and no$2$ wonder, by$4$
03:032;0069[XX ]| Christ!
03:032;0070@b   | I pull the wheezy bell of their shuttered cottage: and wait. They take
03:032;0071@b   | me for$4$ a dun, peer out from a coign of vantage.
03:032;0072[XX ]| ~~ It is Stephen, sir.
03:032;0073[XX ]| ~~ Let him in$5$. Let Stephen in$5$.
03:032;0074@b   | A bolt drawn back and Walter welcomes me.
03:032;0075[XX ]| ~~ We thought you were someone else.
03:032;0076@b   | In$4$ his broad bed nuncle Richie, pillowed and blanketed, extends over
03:032;0077@b   | the hillock of his knees a sturdy forearm. Cleanchested. He has washed the
03:032;0078@b   | upper moiety.
03:032;0079[XX ]| ~~ Morrow, nephew. Sit down and take a walk.
03:033;0080@b   | He lays aside the lapboard whereon he drafts his bills of costs for$4$ the
03:033;0081@b   | eyes of master Goff and master Shapland Tandy, filing consents and
03:033;0082@b   | common searches and a writ of \Duces Tecum\. A bogoak frame over his bald
03:033;0083@b   | head: Wilde's \Requiescat\. The drone of his misleading whistle brings
03:033;0084@b   | Walter back.
03:033;0085[XX ]| ~~ Yes, sir?
03:033;0086[XX ]| ~~ Malt for$4$ Richie and Stephen, tell mother. Where is she?
03:033;0087[XX ]| ~~ Bathing Crissie, sir.
03:033;0088@b   | Papa's little bedpal. Lump of love.
03:033;0089[XX ]| ~~ No$7$, uncle Richie ~~
03:033;0090[XX ]| ~~ Call me Richie. Damn your lithia water. It lowers. Whusky!
03:033;0091[XX ]| ~~ Uncle Richie, really ~~
03:033;0092[XX ]| ~~ Sit down or by$4$ the law Harry I will$1$ knock you down.
03:033;0093@b   | Walter squints vainly for$4$ a chair.
03:033;0094[XX ]| ~~ He has nothing to$9$ sit down on$5$, sir.
03:033;0095[XX ]| ~~ He has nowhere to$9$ put it, you mug. Bring in$4$ our chippendale chair.
03:033;0096[XX ]| Would you like$1$ a bite of something? None of your damned lawdeedaw airs
03:033;0097[XX ]| here. The rich of a rasher fried with a herring? Sure? So$5#1$ much the better.
03:033;0098[XX ]| We have nothing in$4$ the house but backache pills.
03:033;0099[XX ]| \All'erta!\
03:033;0100@b   | He drones bars of Ferrando's \aria di sortita\. 
03:033;0100[XX ]| The grandest number,
03:033;0101[XX ]| Stephen, in$4$ the whole opera. Listen.
03:033;0102@b   | His tuneful whistle sounds again, finely shaded, with rushes of the air,
03:033;0103@b   | his fists bigdrumming on$4$ his padded knees.
03:033;0104@b   | This wind is sweeter.
03:033;0105@b   | Houses of decay, mine, his and all. You told the Clongowes gentry
03:033;0106@b   | you had an uncle a judge and an uncle a general in$4$ the army. Come out of
03:033;0107@b   | them, Stephen. Beauty is not there. Nor in$4$ the stagnant bay of Marsh's
03:033;0108@b   | library where you read the fading prophecies of Joachim*Abbas. For$4$
03:033;0109@b   | whom? The hundredheaded rabble of the cathedral close. A hater of his
03:033;0110@b   | kind ran from them to$4$ the wood of madness, his mane foaming in$4$ the
03:033;0111@b   | moon, his eyeballs stars. Houyhnhnm, horsenostrilled. The oval equine
03:033;0112@b   | faces, Temple, Buck*Mulligan, Foxy*Campbell, Lanternjaws. Abbas father,
03:033;0113@b   | furious dean, what offence laid fire to$4$ their brains? Paff! \Descende, calve, ut\
03:033;0114@b   | \ne amplius\ \decalveris.\ A garland of grey hair on$4$ his comminated head see
03:033;0115@b   | him me clambering down to$4$ the footpace (\descende!\), clutching a
03:033;0116@b   | monstrance, basiliskeyed. Get down, baldpoll! A choir gives back menace
03:033;0117@b   | and echo, assisting about the altar's horns, the snorted Latin of jackpriests
03:033;0118@b   | moving burly in$4$ their albs, tonsured and oiled and gelded, fat with the fat of
03:033;0119@b   | kidneys of wheat.
03:033;0120@b   | And at the same instant perhaps a priest round the corner is elevating
03:033;0121@b   | it. Dringdring! And two streets off another locking it into a pyx.
03:033;0122@b   | Dringadring! And in$4$ a ladychapel another taking housel all to$4$ his own
03:033;0123@b   | cheek. Dringdring! Down, up$5$, forward, back. Dan Occam thought of that$6#2$,
03:033;0124@b   | invincible doctor. A misty English morning the imp hypostasis tickled his
03:034;0125@b   | brain. Bringing his host down and kneeling he heard twine with his second
03:034;0126@b   | bell the first bell in$4$ the transept (he is lifting his) and, rising, heard (now I
03:034;0127@b   | am lifting) their two bells (he is kneeling) twang in$4$ diphthong.
03:034;0128@b   | Cousin Stephen, you will$1$ never be a saint. Isle of saints. You were
03:034;0129@b   | awfully holy, were not you? You prayed to$4$ the Blessed*Virgin that$3$ you might
03:034;0130@b   | not have a red nose. You prayed to$4$ the devil in$4$ Serpentine*avenue that$3$ the
03:034;0131@b   | fubsy widow in$4$ front might lift her clothes still more from the wet street. \O\
03:034;0132@b   | \si, certo!\ Sell your soul for$4$ that$6#2$, do, dyed rags pinned round a squaw. More
03:034;0133@b   | tell me, more still! On$4$ the top of the Howth tram alone crying to$4$ the rain:
03:034;0134@b   | \Naked\ \women! Naked\ \women!\ What about that$6#2$, eh?
03:034;0135@b   | What about what? What else were they invented for$4$?
03:034;0136@b   | Reading two pages apiece of seven books every night, eh? I was
03:034;0137@b   | young. You bowed to$4$ yourself in$4$ the mirror, stepping forward to$9$ applause
03:034;0138@b   | earnestly, striking face. Hurray for$4$ the Goddamned idiot! Hray! No-one
03:034;0139@b   | saw: tell no-one. Books you were going to$9$ write with letters for$4$ titles. Have
03:034;0140@b   | you read his F? O yes, but I prefer Q. Yes, but W is wonderful. O yes, W.
03:034;0141@b   | Remember your epiphanies written on$4$ green oval leaves, deeply deep, copies
03:034;0142@b   | to$9$ be sent if you died to$4$ all the great libraries of the world, including
03:034;0143@b   | Alexandria? Someone was to$9$ read them there after a few thousand years, a
03:034;0144@b   | mahamanvantara. Pico*della*Mirandola like$5$. Ay, very like$4$ a whale. When
03:034;0145@b   | one reads these strange pages of one long gone one feels that$3$ one is at one
03:034;0146@b   | with one who$6#1$ once ~~
03:034;0147['  ]| The grainy sand had gone from under his feet. His boots trod again a
03:034;0148['  ]| damp crackling mast, razorshells, squeaking pebbles, that$6#1$ on$4$ the
03:034;0149['  ]| unnumbered pebbles beats, wood sieved by$4$ the shipworm, lost Armada.
03:034;0150['  ]| Unwholesome sandflats waited to$9$ suck his treading soles, breathing upward
03:034;0151['  ]| sewage breath, a pocket of seaweed smouldered in$4$ seafire under a midden
03:034;0152['  ]| of man's ashes. He coasted them, walking warily. A porterbottle stood up$5$,
03:034;0153['  ]| stogged to$4$ its waist, in$4$ the cakey sand dough. 
03:034;0153@b   | A sentinel: isle of dreadful
03:034;0154@b   | thirst. Broken hoops on$4$ the shore; at the land a maze of dark cunning nets;
03:034;0155@b   | farther away chalkscrawled backdoors and on$4$ the higher beach a
03:034;0156@b   | dryingline with two crucified shirts. Ringsend: wigwams of brown
03:034;0157@b   | steersmen and master mariners. Human shells.
03:034;0158['  ]| He halted. 
03:034;0158@b   | I have passed the way to$4$ aunt Sara's. Am I not going
03:034;0159@b   | there? Seems not. No-one about. 
03:034;0159['  ]| He turned northeast and crossed the
03:034;0160['  ]| firmer sand towards the Pigeonhouse.
03:034;0161[Z  ]| ~~ \Qui vous a mis dans cette fichue position?\
03:034;0162[Z  ]| ~~ \C'est le pigeon, Joseph.\
03:034;0163@b   | Patrice, home on$4$ furlough, lapped warm milk with me in$4$ the bar
03:034;0164@b   | MacMahon. Son of the wild goose, Kevin*Egan of Paris. My father is a bird,
03:034;0165@b   | he lapped the sweet \lait chaud\ with pink young tongue, plump bunny's face.
03:034;0166@b   | Lap, \lapin\. He hopes to$9$ win in$4$ the \gros lots\. About the nature of women he
03:034;0167@b   | read in$4$ Michelet. But he must send me \La*Vie*de*Jesus\ by$4$ M. Le=o*Taxil.
03:034;0168@b   | Lent it to$4$ his friend.
03:035;0169[XX ]| ~~ \C'est tordant, vous savez. Moi, je suis socialiste. Je ne crois pas en\
03:035;0170[XX ]| \l'existence de Dieu. Faut pas le dire 9a mon pere.\
03:035;0171[XX ]| ~~ \Il croit?\
03:035;0172[XX ]| ~~ \Mon pere, oui.\
03:035;0173[XX ]| \Schluss.\ 
03:035;0173@b   | He laps.
03:035;0174@b   | My Latin quarter hat. God, we simply must dress the character. I
03:035;0175@b   | want puce gloves. You were a student, were not you? Of what in$4$ the other
03:035;0176@b   | devil's name? Paysayenn. P%-C%-N%, you know: \physiques, chimiques et\
03:035;0177@b   | \naturelles\. Aha. Eating your groatsworth of \mou en civet\, fleshpots of
03:035;0178@b   | Egypt, elbowed by$4$ belching cabmen. Just say in$4$ the most natural tone:
03:035;0179@b   | when I was in$4$ Paris, \boul'Mich'\, I used to$9$. Yes, used to$9$ carry punched
03:035;0180@b   | tickets to$9$ prove an alibi if they arrested you for$4$ murder somewhere. Justice.
03:035;0181@b   | On$4$ the night of the seventeenth of February 1904 the prisoner was seen by$4$
03:035;0182@b   | two witnesses. Other fellow did it: other me. Hat, tie, overcoat, nose. \Lui,\
03:035;0183@b   | \c'est moi.\ You seem to$9$ have enjoyed yourself.
03:035;0184@b   | Proudly walking. Whom were you trying to$9$ walk like$4$? Forget: a
03:035;0185@b   | dispossessed. With mother's money order, eight shillings, the banging door
03:035;0186@b   | of the post office slammed in$4$ your face by$4$ the usher. Hunger toothache.
03:035;0187@b   | \Encore deux minutes.\ Look clock. Must get. \9Ferme.\ Hired dog! Shoot him
03:035;0188@b   | to$4$ bloody bits with a bang shotgun, bits man spattered walls all brass
03:035;0189@b   | buttons. Bits all khrrrrklak in$4$ place clack back. Not hurt? O, that$6#2$ is all
03:035;0190@b   | right. Shake hands. See what I meant, see? O, that$6#2$ is all right. Shake a
03:035;0191@b   | shake. O, that$6#2$ is all only all right.
03:035;0192@b   | You were going to$9$ do wonders, what? Missionary to$4$ Europe after
03:035;0193@b   | fiery Columbanus. Fiacre and Scotus on$4$ their creepystools in$4$ heaven spilt
03:035;0194@b   | from their pintpots, loudlatinlaughing: \Euge! Euge!\ Pretending to$9$ speak
03:035;0195@b   | broken English as you dragged your valise, porter threepence, across the
03:035;0196@b   | slimy pier at Newhaven. \Comment?\ Rich booty you brought back; \Le*Tutu\,
03:035;0197@b   | five tattered numbers of \Pantalon*Blanc*et*Culotte*Rouge\; a blue
03:035;0198@b   | French telegram, curiosity to$9$ show:
03:035;0199[Z  ]| ~~ Nother dying come home father.
03:035;0200@b   | The aunt thinks you killed your mother. That$6#2$ is why she will$1$ not.
03:035;0201[XX ]| \Then here is a health to$4$ Mulligan's aunt\
03:035;0202[XX ]| \And I will$1$ tell you the reason why.\
03:035;0203[XX ]| \She always kept things decent in$4$\
03:035;0204[XX ]| \The Hannigan famileye.\
03:035;0205['  ]| His feet marched in$4$ sudden proud rhythm over the sand furrows,
03:035;0206['  ]| along by$4$ the boulders of the south wall. He stared at them proudly, piled
03:035;0207['  ]| stone mammoth skulls.
03:035;0207@b   | Gold light on$4$ sea, on$4$ sand, on$4$ boulders. The sun is
03:035;0208@b   | there, the slender trees, the lemon houses.
03:035;0209@b   | Paris rawly waking, crude sunlight on$4$ her lemon streets. Moist pith of
03:035;0210@b   | farls of bread, the froggreen wormwood, her matin incense, court the air.
03:035;0211@b   | Belluomo rises from the bed of his wife's lover's wife, the kerchiefed
03:035;0212@b   | housewife is astir, a saucer of acetic acid in$4$ her hand. In$4$ Rodot's Yvonne
03:036;0213@b   | and Madeleine newmake their tumbled beauties, shattering with gold teeth
03:036;0214@b   | \chaussons\ of pastry, their mouths yellowed with the \pus\ of \flan breton\.
03:036;0215@b   | Faces of Paris men go by$5$, their wellpleased pleasers, curled \conquistadores\.
03:036;0216@b   | Noon slumbers. Kevin*Egan rolls gunpowder cigarettes through
03:036;0217@b   | fingers smeared with printer's ink, sipping his green fairy as Patrice his
03:036;0218@b   | white. About us gobblers fork spiced beans down their gullets. 
03:036;0218[XX ]| \Un demi\
03:036;0219[XX ]| \setier!\ 
03:036;0219@b   | A jet of coffee steam from the burnished caldron. She serves me at
03:036;0220@b   | his beck. 
03:036;0220[XX ]| \Il est irlandais. Hollandais? Non fromage. Deux irlandais, nous,\
03:036;0221[XX ]| \Irlande, vous savez? Ah,\ \oui!\ She thought you wanted a cheese \hollandais\.
03:036;0222[XX ]| Your postprandial, do you know that$6#2$ word? Postprandial. There was a
03:036;0223[XX ]| fellow I knew once in$4$ Barcelona, queer fellow, used to$9$ call it his
03:036;0224[XX ]| postprandial. Well: \slainte!\
03:036;0224@b   | Around the slabbed tables the tangle of wined
03:036;0225@b   | breaths and grumbling gorges. His breath hangs over our saucestained
03:036;0226@b   | plates, the green fairy's fang thrusting between his lips. Of Ireland, the
03:036;0227@b   | Dalcassians, of hopes, conspiracies, of Arthur*Griffith now, AE, pimander,
03:036;0228@b   | good shepherd of men. To$9$ yoke me as his yokefellow, our crimes our
03:036;0229@b   | common cause.
03:036;0229[XX ]| You are your father's son. I know the voice.
03:036;0229@b   | His fustian
03:036;0230@b   | shirt, sanguineflowered, trembles its Spanish tassels at his secrets.
03:036;0231[XX ]| M%*Drumont, famous journalist, Drumont, know what he called queen*Victoria? 
03:036;0232[XX ]| Old hag with the yellow teeth. \Vieille ogresse\ with the \dents\
03:036;0233[XX ]| \jaunes\. Maud*Gonne, beautiful woman, \la Patrie\, M%*Millevoye, Felix*Faure,
03:036;0234[XX ]| know how he died? Licentious men. The \froeken, bonne 9a tout faire\,
03:036;0235[XX ]| who$6#1$ rubs male nakedness in$4$ the bath at Upsala. \Moi faire\, she said, \tous les\
03:036;0236[XX ]| \messieurs.\ Not this \monsieur\, I said. Most licentious custom. Bath a most
03:036;0237[XX ]| private thing. I would not let my brother, not even my own brother, most
03:036;0238[XX ]| lascivious thing. Green eyes, I see you. Fang, I feel. Lascivious people.
03:036;0239@b   | The blue fuse burns deadly between hands and burns clear. Loose
03:036;0240@b   | tobaccoshreds catch fire: a flame and acrid smoke light our corner. Raw
03:036;0241@b   | facebones under his peep of day boy's hat. 
03:036;0241[XX ]| How the head centre got away,
03:036;0242[XX ]| authentic version. Got up$5$ as a young bride, man, veil, orangeblossoms,
03:036;0243[XX ]| drove out the road to$4$ Malahide. Did, faith. 
03:036;0243@b   | Of lost leaders, the betrayed,
03:036;0244@b   | wild escapes. Disguises, clutched at, gone, not here.
03:036;0245@b   | Spurned lover. I was a strapping young gossoon at that$6#2$ time, I tell
03:036;0246@b   | you. I will$1$ show you my likeness one day. I was, faith. Lover, for$4$ her love he
03:036;0247@b   | prowled with colonel*Richard*Burke, tanist of his sept, under the walls of
03:036;0248@b   | Clerkenwell and, crouching, saw a flame of vengeance hurl them upward in$4$
03:036;0249@b   | the fog. Shattered glass and toppling masonry. In$4$ gay Paree he hides, Egan
03:036;0250@b   | of Paris, unsought by$4$ any save by$4$ me. Making his day's stations, the dingy
03:036;0251@b   | printingcase, his three taverns, the Montmartre lair he sleeps short night in$4$,
03:036;0252@b   | \9rue*de*la*Goutte-d'Or\, damascened with flyblown faces of the gone.
03:036;0253@b   | Loveless, landless, wifeless. She is quite nicey comfy without her outcast
03:036;0254@b   | man, madame in$4$ \9rue*Git-le-C#.^our\, canary and two buck lodgers. Peachy
03:036;0255@b   | cheeks, a zebra skirt, frisky as a young thing's. Spurned and undespairing.
03:036;0256[XX ]| Tell Pat you saw me, will$1$ not you? I wanted to$9$ get poor Pat a job one time.
03:036;0257[XX ]| \Mon fils\, soldier of France. I taught him to$9$ sing \The boys of Kilkenny are\
03:037;0258[XX ]| \stout roaring blades\. Know that$6#2$ old lay? I taught Patrice that$6#2$. Old
03:037;0259[XX ]| Kilkenny: saint Canice, Strongbow's castle on$4$ the Nore. Goes like$4$ this.
03:037;0260[Z  ]| \O, O.\  He takes me, Napper Tandy, by$4$ the hand.
03:037;0261[Z  ]| \O, O the boysof\
03:037;0262[Z  ]| \Kilkenny\ ~~
03:037;0263@b   | Weak wasting hand on$4$ mine. They have forgotten Kevin*Egan, not he
03:037;0264@b   | them. Remembering thee, O Sion.
03:037;0265['  ]| He had come nearer the edge of the sea and wet sand slapped his
03:037;0266['  ]| boots. The new air greeted him, harping in$4$ wild nerves, wind of wild air of
03:037;0267['  ]| seeds of brightness. 
03:037;0267@b   | Here, I am not walking out to$4$ the Kish lightship, am I?
03:037;0268['  ]| He stood suddenly, his feet beginning to$9$ sink slowly in$4$ the quaking soil.
03:037;0269@b   | Turn back.
03:037;0270['  ]| Turning, he scanned the shore south, his feet sinking again slowly in$4$
03:037;0271['  ]| new sockets. 
03:037;0271@b   | The cold domed room of the tower waits. Through the
03:037;0272@b   | barbacans the shafts of light are moving ever, slowly ever as my feet are
03:037;0273@b   | sinking, creeping duskward over the dial floor. Blue dusk, nightfall, deep
03:037;0274@b   | blue night. In$4$ the darkness of the dome they wait, their pushedback chairs,
03:037;0275@b   | my obelisk valise, around a board of abandoned platters. Who$6#2$ to$9$ clear it?
03:037;0276@b   | He has the key. I will$1$ not sleep there when this night comes. A shut door of
03:037;0277@b   | a silent tower, entombing their blind bodies, the panthersahib and his
03:037;0278@b   | pointer. Call: no$2$ answer. 
03:037;0278['  ]| He lifted his feet up$5$ from the suck and turned
03:037;0279['  ]| back by$4$ the mole of boulders. 
03:037;0279@b   | Take all, keep all. My soul walks with me,
03:037;0280@b   | form of forms. So$3$ in$4$ the moon's midwatches I pace the path above the
03:037;0281@b   | rocks, in$4$ sable silvered, hearing Elsinore's tempting flood.
03:037;0282@b   | The flood is following me. I can watch it flow past from here. Get
03:037;0283@b   | back then by$4$ the Poolbeg*road to$4$ the strand there. 
03:037;0283['  ]| He climbed over the
03:037;0284['  ]| sedge and eely oarweeds and sat on$4$ a stool of rock, resting his ashplant in$4$ a
03:037;0285['  ]| grike.
03:037;0286['  ]| A bloated carcass of a dog lay lolled on$4$ bladderwrack. Before him the
03:037;0287['  ]| gunwale of a boat, sunk in$4$ sand. 
03:037;0287@b   | \9Un coche ensable\ Louis*Veuillot called
03:037;0288@b   | Gautier's prose. These heavy sands are language tide and wind have silted
03:037;0289@b   | here. And these, the stoneheaps of dead builders, a warren of weasel rats.
03:037;0290@b   | Hide gold there. Try it. You have some. Sands and stones. Heavy of the
03:037;0291@b   | past. Sir Lout's toys. Mind you do not get one bang on$4$ the ear. I am the
03:037;0292@b   | bloody well gigant rolls all them bloody well boulders, bones for$4$ my
03:037;0293@b   | steppingstones. Feefawfum. I zmellz de bloodz odz an Iridzman.
03:037;0294['  ]| A point, live dog, grew into sight running across the sweep of sand.
03:037;0295@b   | Lord, is he going to$9$ attack me? Respect his liberty. You will$1$ not be master of
03:037;0296@b   | others or their slave. I have my stick. Sit tight. From farther away, walking
03:037;0297@b   | shoreward across from the crested tide, figures, two. The two maries. They
03:037;0298@b   | have tucked it safe mong the bulrushes. Peekaboo. I see you. No$7$, the dog.
03:037;0299@b   | He is running back to$4$ them. Who$6#2$?
03:037;0300@b   | Galleys of the Lochlanns ran here to$9$ beach, in$4$ quest of prey, their
03:037;0301@b   | bloodbeaked prows riding low on$4$ a molten pewter surf. Dane vikings, torcs
03:038;0302@b   | of tomahawks aglitter on$4$ their breasts when Malachi wore the collar of
03:038;0303@b   | gold. A school of turlehide whales stranded in$4$ hot noon, spouting, hobbling
03:038;0304@b   | in$4$ the shallows. Then from the starving cagework city a horde of jerkined
03:038;0305@b   | dwarfs, my people, with flayers' knives, running, scaling, hacking in$4$ green
03:038;0306@b   | blubbery whalemeat. Famine, plague and slaughters. Their blood is in$4$ me,
03:038;0307@b   | their lusts my waves. I moved among them on$4$ the frozen Liffey, that$6#2$ I, a
03:038;0308@b   | changeling, among the spluttering resin fires. I spoke to$4$ no-one: none to$4$
03:038;0309@b   | me.
03:038;0310['  ]| The dog's bark ran towards him, stopped, ran back. 
03:038;0310@b   | Dog of my
03:038;0311@b   | enemy. I just simply stood pale, silent, bayed about. \Terribilia meditans.\ A
03:038;0312@b   | primrose doublet, fortune's knave, smiled on$4$ my fear. For$4$ that$6#2$ are you
03:038;0313@b   | pining, the bark of their applause? Pretenders: live their lives. The Bruce's
03:038;0314@b   | brother, Thomas*Fitzgerald, silken knight, Perkin*Warbeck, York's false
03:038;0315@b   | scion, in$4$ breeches of silk of whiterose ivory, wonder of a day, and Lambert*Simnel, 
03:038;0316@b   | with a tail of nans and sutlers, a scullion crowned. All kings' sons.
03:038;0317@b   | Paradise of pretenders then and now. He saved men from drowning and
03:038;0318@b   | you shake at a cur's yelping. But the courtiers who$6#1$ mocked Guido in$4$ 
03:038;0319@b   | Or*san*Michele were in$4$ their own house. House of ~~ We do not want any of
03:038;0320@b   | your medieval abstrusiosities. Would you do what he did? A boat would be
03:038;0321@b   | near, a lifebuoy. \Nat^urlich\, put there for$4$ you. Would you or would you
03:038;0322@b   | not? The man that$6#1$ was drowned nine days ago off Maiden's rock. They are
03:038;0323@b   | waiting for$4$ him now. The truth, spit it out. I would want to$9$. I would try. I
03:038;0324@b   | am not a strong swimmer. Water cold soft. When I put my face into it in$4$ the
03:038;0325@b   | basin at Clongowes. Can not see! Who$6#2$ is behind me? Out quickly, quickly!
03:038;0326@b   | Do you see the tide flowing quickly in$5$ on$4$ all sides, sheeting the lows of sand
03:038;0327@b   | quickly, shellcocoacoloured? If I had land under my feet. I want his life still
03:038;0328@b   | to$9$ be his, mine to$9$ be mine. A drowning man. His human eyes scream to$4$ me
03:038;0329@b   | out of horror of his death. I ~~ With him together down ~~ I could not save
03:038;0330@b   | her. Waters: bitter death: lost.
03:038;0331@b   | A woman and a man. I see her skirties. Pinned up$5$, I bet.
03:038;0332['  ]| Their dog ambled about a bank of dwindling sand, trotting, sniffing
03:038;0333['  ]| on$4$ all sides. Looking for$4$ something lost in$4$ a past life. Suddenly he made off
03:038;0334['  ]| like$4$ a bounding hare, ears flung back, chasing the shadow of a
03:038;0335['  ]| lowskimming gull. The man's shrieked whistle struck his limp ears. He
03:038;0336['  ]| turned, bounded back, came nearer, trotted on$4$ twinkling shanks. On$4$ a field
03:038;0337['  ]| tenney a buck, trippant, proper, unattired. At the lacefringe of the tide he
03:038;0338['  ]| halted with stiff forehoofs, seawardpointed ears. His snout lifted barked at
03:038;0339['  ]| the wavenoise, herds of seamorse. They serpented towards his feet, curling,
03:038;0340['  ]| unfurling many crests, every ninth, breaking, plashing, from far, from
03:038;0341['  ]| farther out, waves and waves.
03:038;0342['  ]| Cocklepickers. They waded a little way in$4$ the water and, stooping,
03:038;0343['  ]| soused their bags and, lifting them again, waded out. The dog yelped
03:038;0344['  ]| running to$4$ them, reared up$5$ and pawed them, dropping on$4$ all fours, again
03:038;0345['  ]| reared up$5$ at them with mute bearish fawning. Unheeded he kept by$4$ them as
03:038;0346['  ]| they came towards the drier sand, a rag of wolf's tongue redpanting from
03:039;0347['  ]| his jaws. His speckled body ambled ahead of them and then loped off at a
03:039;0348['  ]| calf's gallop. The carcass lay on$4$ his path. He stopped, sniffed, stalked
03:039;0349['  ]| round it, brother, nosing closer, went round it, sniffling rapidly like$4$ a dog
03:039;0350['  ]| all over the dead dog's bedraggled fell. Dogskull, dogsniff, eyes on$4$ the
03:039;0351['  ]| ground, moves to$4$ one great goal. Ah, poor dogsbody! Here lies poor
03:039;0352['  ]| dogsbody's body.
03:039;0353[V  ]| ~~ Tatters! Outofthat, you mongrel!
03:039;0354['  ]| The cry brought him skulking back to$4$ his master and a blunt bootless
03:039;0355['  ]| kick sent him unscathed across a spit of sand, crouched in$4$ flight. He slunk
03:039;0356['  ]| back in$4$ a curve. 
03:039;0356@b   | Does not see me. 
03:039;0356['  ]| Along by$4$ the edge of the mole he lolloped,
03:039;0357['  ]| dawdled, smelt a rock and from under a cocked hindleg pissed against it.
03:039;0358['  ]| He trotted forward and, lifting again his hindleg, pissed quick short at an
03:039;0359['  ]| unsmelt rock. 
03:039;0359@b   | The simple pleasures of the poor. 
03:039;0359['  ]| His hindpaws then
03:039;0360['  ]| scattered the sand: then his forepaws dabbled and delved. 
03:039;0360@b   | Something he
03:039;0361@b   | buried there, his grandmother. 
03:039;0361['  ]| He rooted in$4$ the sand, dabbling, delving and
03:039;0362['  ]| stopped to$9$ listen to$4$ the air, scraped up$4$ the sand again with a fury of his
03:039;0363['  ]| claws, soon ceasing, 
03:039;0363@b   | a pard, a panther, got in$4$ spousebreach, vulturing the
03:039;0364@b   | dead.
03:039;0365@b   | After he woke me last night same dream or was it? Wait. Open
03:039;0366@b   | hallway. Street of harlots. Remember. Haroun*al*Raschid. I am almosting
03:039;0367@b   | it. That$6#2$ man led me, spoke. I was not afraid. The melon he had he held
03:039;0368@b   | against my face. Smiled: creamfruit smell. That$6#2$ was the rule, said. In$5$.
03:039;0369@b   | Come. Red carpet spread. You will$1$ see who$6#1$.
03:039;0370@b   | Shouldering their bags they trudged, the red Egyptians. His blued
03:039;0371@b   | feet out of turnedup trousers slapped the clammy sand, a dull brick muffler
03:039;0372@b   | strangling his unshaven neck. With woman steps she followed: the ruffian
03:039;0373@b   | and his strolling mort. Spoils slung at her back. Loose sand and shellgrit
03:039;0374@b   | crusted her bare feet. About her windraw face hair trailed. Behind her lord,
03:039;0375@b   | his helpmate, bing awast to$4$ Romeville. When night hides her body's flaws
03:039;0376@b   | calling under her brown shawl from an archway where dogs have mired.
03:039;0377@b   | Her fancyman is treating two Royal Dublins in$4$ O'Loughlin's of Blackpitts.
03:039;0378@b   | Buss her, wap in$4$ rogues' rum lingo, for$3$, O, my dimber wapping dell! A
03:039;0379@b   | shefiend's whiteness under her rancid rags. Fumbally's*lane that$6#2$ night: the
03:039;0380@b   | tanyard smells.
03:039;0381[Z  ]| \White thy fambles, red thy gan\
03:039;0382[Z  ]| \And thy quarrons dainty is.\
03:039;0383[Z  ]| \Couch a hogshead with me then.\
03:039;0384[Z  ]| \In$4$ the darkmans clip and kiss.\
03:039;0385@b   | Morose delectation Aquinas tunbelly calls this, \frate porcospino\.
03:039;0386@b   | Unfallen Adam rode and not rutted. Call away let him: \thy quarrons dainty\
03:039;0387@b   | \is\. Language no$2$ whit worse than his. Monkwords, marybeads jabber on$4$
03:039;0388@b   | their girdles: roguewords, tough nuggets patter in$4$ their pockets.
03:039;0389@b   | Passing now.
03:040;0390@b   | A side eye at my Hamlet hat. If I were suddenly naked here as I sit? I
03:040;0391@b   | am not. Across the sands of all the world, followed by$4$ the sun's flaming
03:040;0392@b   | sword, to$4$ the west, trekking to$4$ evening lands. She trudges, schlepps, trains,
03:040;0393@b   | drags, trascines her load. A tide westering, moondrawn, in$4$ her wake. Tides,
03:040;0394@b   | myriadislanded, within her, blood not mine, \oinopa ponton\, a winedark sea.
03:040;0395@b   | Behold the handmaid of the moon. In$4$ sleep the wet sign calls her hour, bids
03:040;0396@b   | her rise. Bridebed, childbed, bed of death, ghostcandled. \Omnis caro ad te\
03:040;0397@b   | \veniet.\ He comes, pale vampire, through storm his eyes, his bat sails
03:040;0398@b   | bloodying the sea, mouth to$4$ her mouth's kiss.
03:040;0399@b   | Here. Put a pin in$4$ that$6#2$ chap, will$1$ you? My tablets. Mouth to$4$ her kiss.
03:040;0400@b   | No$7$. Must be two of em. Glue em well. Mouth to$4$ her mouth's kiss.
03:040;0401['  ]| His lips lipped and mouthed fleshless lips of air: mouth to$4$ her
03:040;0402['  ]| moomb. Oomb, allwombing tomb. His mouth moulded issuing breath,
03:040;0403['  ]| unspeeched: ooeeehah: roar of cataractic planets, globed, blazing, roaring
03:040;0404['  ]| wayawayawayawayaway.
03:040;0404@b   | Paper. The banknotes, blast them. Old Deasy's
03:040;0405@b   | letter. Here. Thanking you for$4$ the hospitality tear the blank end off.
03:040;0406['  ]| Turning his back to$4$ the sun he bent over far to$4$ a table of rock and scribbled
03:040;0407['  ]| words. 
03:040;0407@b   | That$6#2$ is twice I forgot to$9$ take slips from the library counter.
03:040;0408['  ]| His shadow lay over the rocks as he bent, ending. 
03:040;0408@b   | Why not endless till
03:040;0409@b   | the farthest star? Darkly they are there behind this light, darkness shining
03:040;0410@b   | in$4$ the brightness, delta of Cassiopeia, worlds. Me sits there with his augur's
03:040;0411@b   | rod of ash, in$4$ borrowed sandals, by$4$ day beside a livid sea, unbeheld, in$4$
03:040;0412@b   | violet night walking beneath a reign of uncouth stars. I throw this ended
03:040;0413@b   | shadow from me, manshape ineluctable, call it back. Endless, would it be
03:040;0414@b   | mine, form of my form? Who$6#2$ watches me here? Who$6#2$ ever anywhere will$1$
03:040;0415@b   | read these written words? Signs on$4$ a white field. Somewhere to$4$ someone in$4$
03:040;0416@b   | your flutiest voice. The good bishop*of*Cloyne took the veil of the temple
03:040;0417@b   | out of his shovel hat: veil of space with coloured emblems hatched on$4$ its
03:040;0418@b   | field. Hold hard. Coloured on$4$ a flat: yes, that$6#2$ is right. Flat I see, then think
03:040;0419@b   | distance, near, far, flat I see, east, back. Ah, see now! Falls back suddenly,
03:040;0420@b   | frozen in$4$ stereoscope. Click does the trick. You find my words dark.
03:040;0421@b   | Darkness is in$4$ our souls do you not think? Flutier. Our souls,
03:040;0422@b   | shamewounded by$4$ our sins, cling to$4$ us yet more, a woman to$4$ her lover
03:040;0423@b   | clinging, the more the more.
03:040;0424@b   | She trusts me, her hand gentle, the longlashed eyes. Now where the
03:040;0425@b   | blue hell am I bringing her beyond the veil? Into the ineluctable modality of
03:040;0426@b   | the ineluctable visuality. She, she, she. What she? The virgin at Hodges*Figgis' 
03:040;0427@b   | window on$4$ Monday looking in$5$ for$4$ one of the alphabet books you
03:040;0428@b   | were going to$9$ write. Keen glance you gave her. Wrist through the braided
03:040;0429@b   | jesse of her sunshade. She lives in$4$ Leeson*park with a grief and kickshaws,
03:040;0430@b   | a lady of letters. Talk that$6#2$ to$4$ someone else, Stevie: a pickmeup. Bet she
03:040;0431@b   | wears those curse of God stays suspenders and yellow stockings, darned
03:040;0432@b   | with lumpy wool. Talk about apple dumplings, \piuttosto\. Where are your
03:040;0433@b   | wits?
03:041;0434@b   | Touch me. Soft eyes. Soft soft soft hand. I am lonely here. O, touch
03:041;0435@b   | me soon, now. What is that$6#2$ word known to$4$ all men? I am quiet here alone.
03:041;0436@b   | Sad too. Touch, touch me.
03:041;0437['  ]| He lay back at full stretch over the sharp rocks, cramming the
03:041;0438['  ]| scribbled note and pencil into a pocket, his hat tilted down on$4$ his eyes. 
03:041;0438@b   | That$6#2$
03:041;0439@b   | is Kevin Egan's movement I made, nodding for$4$ his nap, sabbath sleep. \Et\
03:041;0440@b   | \vidit Deus. Et erant valde bona.\ Hlo! \Bonjour.\ Welcome as the flowers in$4$
03:041;0441@b   | May. 
03:041;0441['  ]| Under its leaf he watched through peacocktwittering lashes the
03:041;0442['  ]| southing sun. 
03:041;0442@b   | I am caught in$4$ this burning scene. Pan's hour, the faunal
03:041;0443@b   | noon. Among gumheavy serpentplants, milkoozing fruits, where on$4$ the
03:041;0444@b   | tawny waters leaves lie wide. Pain is far.
03:041;0445[Z  ]| \And no$2$ more turn aside and brood.\
03:041;0446['  ]| His gaze brooded on$4$ his broadtoed boots, a buck's castoffs,
03:041;0447['  ]| \nebeneinander\. He counted the creases of rucked leather wherein another's
03:041;0448['  ]| foot had nested warm. 
03:041;0448@b   | The foot that$6#1$ beat the ground in$4$ tripudium, foot I
03:041;0449@b   | dislove. But you were delighted when Esther*Osvalt's shoe went on$4$ you:
03:041;0450@b   | girl I knew in$4$ Paris. \Tiens, quel petit pied!\ Staunch friend, a brother soul:
03:041;0451@b   | Wilde's love that$6#1$ dare not speak its name. His arm: Cranly's arm. He now
03:041;0452@b   | will$1$ leave me. And the blame? As I am. As I am. All or not at all.
03:041;0453['  ]| In$4$ long lassoes from the Cock lake the water flowed full, covering
03:041;0454['  ]| greengoldenly lagoons of sand, rising, flowing. 
03:041;0454@b   | My ashplant will$1$ float away.
03:041;0455@b   | I shall wait. No$7$, they will$1$ pass on$5$, passing, chafing against the low rocks,
03:041;0456@b   | swirling, passing. Better get this job over quick. Listen: a fourworded
03:041;0457@b   | wavespeech: seesoo, hrss, rsseeiss, ooos. Vehement breath of waters amid
03:041;0458@b   | seasnakes, rearing horses, rocks. In$4$ cups of rocks it slops: flop, slop, slap:
03:041;0459@b   | bounded in$4$ barrels. And, spent, its speech ceases. It flows purling, widely
03:041;0460@b   | flowing, floating foampool, flower unfurling.
03:041;0461['  ]| Under the upswelling tide he saw the writhing weeds lift languidly
03:041;0462['  ]| and sway reluctant arms, hising up$4$ their petticoats, in$4$ whispering water
03:041;0463['  ]| swaying and upturning coy silver fronds.
03:041;0463@b   | Day by$4$ day: night by$4$ night:
03:041;0464@b   | lifted, flooded and let fall. Lord, they are weary; and, whispered to$4$, they
03:041;0465@b   | sigh. Saint*Ambrose heard it, sigh of leaves and waves, waiting, awaiting the
03:041;0466@b   | fullness of their times, \diebus ac noctibus iniurias\ \patiens ingemiscit\. To$4$ no$2$
03:041;0467@b   | end gathered; vainly then released, forthflowing, wending back: loom of
03:041;0468@b   | the moon. Weary too in$4$ sight of lovers, lascivious men, a naked woman
03:041;0469@b   | shining in$4$ her courts, she draws a toil of waters.
03:041;0470@b   | Five fathoms out there. Full fathom five thy father lies. At one, he
03:041;0471@b   | said. Found drowned. High water at Dublin bar. Driving before it a loose
03:041;0472@b   | drift of rubble, fanshoals of fishes, silly shells. A corpse rising saltwhite
03:041;0473@b   | from the undertow, bobbing a pace a pace a porpoise landward. There he
03:041;0474@b   | is. Hook it quick. Pull. Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. We
03:041;0475@b   | have him. Easy now.
03:041;0476@b   | Bag of corpsegas sopping in$4$ foul brine. A quiver of minnows, fat of a
03:041;0477@b   | spongy titbit, flash through the slits of his buttoned trouserfly. God
03:042;0478@b   | becomes man becomes fish becomes barnacle goose becomes featherbed
03:042;0479@b   | mountain. Dead breaths I living breathe, tread dead dust, devour a urinous
03:042;0480@b   | offal from all dead. Hauled stark over the gunwale he breathes upward the
03:042;0481@b   | stench of his green grave, his leprous nosehole snoring to$4$ the sun.
03:042;0482@b   | A seachange this, brown eyes saltblue. Seadeath, mildest of all deaths
03:042;0483@b   | known to$4$ man. Old Father Ocean. \Prix*de*Paris\: beware of imitations. Just
03:042;0484@b   | you give it a fair trial. We enjoyed ourselves immensely.
03:042;0485@b   | Come. I thirst. Clouding over. No$2$ black clouds anywhere, are there?
03:042;0486@b   | Thunderstorm. Allbright he falls, proud lightning of the intellect, \Lucifer,\
03:042;0487@b   | \dico, qui nescit occasum\. No$7$. My cockle hat and staff and hismy sandal
03:042;0488@b   | shoon. Where? To$4$ evening lands. Evening will$1$ find itself.
03:042;0489['  ]| He took the hilt of his ashplant, lunging with it softly, dallying still.
03:042;0490@b   | Yes, evening will$1$ find itself in$4$ me, without me. All days make their end. By$4$
03:042;0491@b   | the way next when is it Tuesday will$1$ be the longest day. Of all the glad new
03:042;0492@b   | year, mother, the rum tum tiddledy tum. Lawn Tennyson, gentleman poet.
03:042;0493@b   | \Gia.\ For$4$ the old hag with the yellow teeth. And Monsieur*Drumont,
03:042;0494@b   | gentleman journalist. \Gia.\ My teeth are very bad. Why, I wonder. Feel.
03:042;0495@b   | That$6#2$ one is going too. Shells. Ought I go to$4$ a dentist, I wonder, with that$6#2$
03:042;0496@b   | money? That$6#2$ one. This. Toothless Kinch, the superman. Why is that$6#2$, I
03:042;0497@b   | wonder, or does it mean something perhaps?
03:042;0498@b   | My handkerchief. He threw it. I remember. Did I not take it up$5$?
03:042;0499['  ]| His hand groped vainly in$4$ his pockets. 
03:042;0499@b   | No$7$, I did not. Better buy one.
03:042;0500['  ]| He laid the dry snot picked from his nostril on$4$ a ledge of rock,
03:042;0501['  ]| carefully. 
03:042;0501@b   | For$4$ the rest let look who$6#1$ will$1$.
03:042;0502@b   | Behind. Perhaps there is someone.
03:042;0503['  ]| He turned his face over a shoulder, rere regardant. Moving through
03:042;0504['  ]| the air high spars of a threemaster, her sails brailed up$5$ on$4$ the crosstrees,
03:042;0505['  ]| homing, upstream, silently moving, a silent ship.