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impala-dreamer · 4 years

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Wash Me Away

SPN FanFIc

~Being lost in Purgatory with Dean takes a toll on Y/N, but a night of rest might do them both good.~

Dean x Reader, Benny, Mentions of Castiel

2,729 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Purgatory Smangst!. Danger. Romance. Rain.

A/N: This is for my Purgatory!Dean square on @spnkinkbingo 2020 and for my darling @covered-byroses who wanted something about the rain. Hope you all enjoy!

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It had been weeks, a month, maybe, since they woke up there. A month of running for their lives, every second on edge, wondering if they’d be fast enough to escape the next monster, strong enough to fend off the next attack. And there was always another attack.

They got a few hours here and there to rest, but they were on the move now, day and night.

Funny how Purgatory could sustain even a human for days without sleep or food. Perhaps the universe was coddling them, keeping them alive just enough so they could find the portal and escape. Or maybe they were just getting used to it, adapting to their new existence.

Dean was harder here, she noticed. He never laughed anymore, never teased her like he used to. She understood, of course. There was no reason to laugh anymore, not with a thousand fangs aimed at their throats.

Y/N tried to keep some hope, tried to show him a smile whenever he needed one, but the darkness was eating at her too. Hell would probably be nicer, she thought, but then again, she wouldn’t be with Dean.

Maybe he was what was keeping her going. Surely, she’d have given up that first night, succumbed to the monsters in and around her after Castiel abandoned them. But, Dean was there to grab her hand and pull, forcing her feet to run, demanding she keep her shit together. And she did. For him.

It helped that they had a mission. They weren’t just trying to get out, they were trying to find Cas. Some days, trudging behind Dean and Benny, Y/N had to bat away the idea that Cas was already dead. If it took three of them working together to get through the minefield that was Purgatory, how could one lone angel survive? She didn’t like to think like that, but it was hard some days.

Then there was Benny. Part of her was absolutely disgusted that Dean had agreed to let him tag along, to make such a deal with a monster. He was a vampire for fuck’s sake, but she understood, in the end. Dean couldn’t keep her safe and look for Cas at the same time. Still, sometimes she felt Benny’s eyes digging into her and it chilled her Hunter’s spirit to the bones.

There were times when they could go no further, when even Dean’s strong legs started to give out. They would sit beneath a tree or hide behind some strangely arranged pile of boulders. Shelter was sparse, so when they happened upon the cave that night, Y/N nearly cried.

Dean didn’t even protest when Benny insisted they both rest inside for the night while he went on ahead. The area around the cave was clear, and Benny promised to patrol the perimeter while they slept.

It was cold and quiet.

The mouth of the cave was about six feet wide and four feet tall, but it opened up into a room big enough to get comfortable in. Dean took the left side, stretching out his long legs as he sat against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Y/N lay down opposite him, hands like a sorry pillow behind her head as she stared up at the rocky ceiling. There was a bit of pale yellow light coming in from outside, so it wasn’t too dark, and the cracks in the stone gave her something to count and focus on while Sleep ran away.

“This isn’t too bad,” she said, mostly to herself. “Ya know, if we don’t find Cas, we can just hole up here. Maybe excavate a little bit, add some bedrooms, a little kitchen in the back. Could be nice.”

“We’re going to find him,” Dean grumbled, his eyes still closed, lips barely moving. “I’m not living in a cave in this hell hole world.”

Y/N rolled onto her side, head braced by one hand. “Well, technically, this ain’t a hell hole. It’s a purg-hole. That’s a thing I just made up, but anyway.” She held her smile, biting her tongue between her front teeth, but Dean didn’t share her laugh. “Come on, dude,” she said, slapping his boot. “Smile.”

“No.”

“You’ll feel better if you do.”

Dean opened one eye and glared. “How?”

“Because I’ll feel better and that always makes you happy.”

She smiled sadly and he gave in, offering a meager smile that barely lifted his lips.

“See? Thank you.”

She left him alone then, rolling onto her stomach, cursing the world for not packing a sleeping bag before getting blown into another dimension. She should have had her go-bag with her. Would have made things a lot easier.

Thoughts swirled, the silence wrapped around her, and sleep finally came, closing her eyes before she even felt its approach.

She woke to rain.

A faint mist pushed in by a wayward breeze through the cave mouth kissed her eyelids and Y/N stirred, lifting her cheek from her hand and blinking into the dark. Raindrops danced a few feet away, collecting in shallow puddles where the rocks failed to meet in perfect seems.

Suddenly, it was all she ever wanted; the rain, the cool air, the heavy clouds. Her soul ached for it.

“Dean.”

She called to him gently but he was already awake, emerald eyes turned towards the same raindrops.

“Yeah, Y/N/N?” His voice was softer now, calmer after his rest.

“Come with me,” she whispered, lifting up onto her hands and knees.

Dean caught her left wrist as she tried to crawl out of the cave, shaking his head when she turned back, curious. “Don’t. You don’t know what’s out there.”

She sighed. “Benny’s walking the treeline. All that’s out there right now is rain. And I want to feel it on my face, Dean. It’s been too long.”

Her eyes misted over and something inside him gave in. His fingers released their hold on her wrist and he rolled to his knees, following her out.

They didn’t go too far; just a few yards away from the cave, but it felt like miles.

Y/N closed her eyes as she lifted her arms and turned her face to the sky. There was no Heaven up there, not anymore, not where they were, but for a moment, she felt it. Each drop of rain stung her face but she loved every one. It felt good, clean.

The water seeped into their clothes and soaked their hair, rinsing them clean of days of mud and muck. The dried blood on Dean’s cheek faded away and he lifted his hands, scrubbing them down his face with a sigh of relief.

“This feels amazing,” he said, finally cracking a real smile. He closed his eyes and let himself breathe; the first moment’s peace in a long while.

“Yeah.” Y/N’s voice broke, sadness creeping in. She dropped her head and the downpour massaged her neck with pounding pellets that trickled down under her collar. “It is.”

Dean heard her tone change and turned towards her, watching her shiver but not care to move. “What’s wrong?” His voice was tender as he came close; he was afraid for her, worried.

Y/N licked the water from her lips and looked up at him. Her eyes were as wet as anything else, but the reason wasn’t the same. “I don’t know.” She offered a lying smile but he wouldn’t have it.

“Tell me.”

His hand found her cheek.

She sighed deeply, shoulders dropping. “I just wanna stay here and let the rain wash me away.”

Dean pursed his lips, concerned dimples popping as he brushed the water from her cheek with his thumb. “Why?”

Y/N shook her head gently as she spoke. “It’s too much; I’m not gonna make it out here. You know that, Dean.” She took a breath as thunder rolled above them. “You should leave me in the cave. Go find Cas. Go get out of here.”

Dean’s chest burned at the thought; guilt stabbing his heart. “No.” He grabbed her face in both hands, holding her to him, forcing her to meet his eye. “I’m not leaving you, ever.”

Y/N tried to pull away but he refused, keeping her locked there, head in his hands, alone in the rain. He stared her down, hard, unblinking even as water crept into his eyes. His left eyelid trembled and she laughed.

“You’re an idiot,” she yelled, voice weak over the pouring rain.

Dean smiled and bent his lips to hers. “Yeah, I am.”

They stood there in the downpour, not a single care for the first time in weeks. They kissed until the air between them was too thin, until their mouths filled with rain. Y/N tugged at the lapels of his leather coat and Dean’s hand slid up under her layers to lay on the small of her back. Any time she left for a deep breath, he pulled her closer, that big hand urging her to stay.

“We should go,” she managed after a long while, her breath heavy on his lips.

His eyes fell closed and his mouth reached for her. “No. Please.”

Y/N wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and moaned as he kissed his way across her jaw. “Take me back inside,” she whispered. “I need you.”

He let her go quickly, grabbing her hand as her boots sank into the mud. Together they climbed through the storm back up to the cave, desperate to settle down inside.

They stripped in a fury, no ceremony or tender hands. It was cold suddenly, and the dampness of their clothes was seeping in deep.

There was just enough room for him to stand and Dean used all of it, rushing to her and scooping Y/N into his arms once the sodden fabrics were kicked aside. They should have had a fire, but all they had was each other.

He kissed her harder, passion and desperation driving his tongue roughly between her lips. Y/N held on to his shoulders as he moved her where he wanted, absently walking her back until the stone shocked her skin.

“Fuck, that’s cold,” she laughed, turning her face from Dean’s kiss.

His hands slid around her, long fingers splayed out like a barrier over her back. “I’ll warm you up,” he growled, nipping at her pulse.

His kisses traveled downwards and Y/N ran her hands through his wet hair, sighing blissfully as his mouth closed around her nipple. “That’s pretty good…”

Dropping to his knees, Dean looked up with a smirk. “Oh wait,” he teased, sliding his right hand upwards to part her thighs. “There’s more.”

“I’m sure there is-” A gasp stole her words as Dean’s lips pressed against her pussy. She shuddered and sank down against the cavern wall, opening up for his tongue. He rolled it slowly across her clit, sending every bit of blood and thought straight down to it. She throbbed almost painfully as he fucked her open, fingers and lips working together to draw heavy moans from the back of her throat. She held on, fingers in his hair, hands tugging on his ears.

It had been too long since she had felt him, forever since she’d even had a thought to spare on pleasure, and her nerves were pulsing. Dean lifted her right leg to hook over his shoulder and the new angle gave his tongue more access than Y/N could stand. She shook almost violently as she came, her tight-lipped cry echoing down into the depths of their cave.

Dean pulled away, face shining with her slick juices, lips red and swollen. “Warm enough?” he asked, slowly drawing his tongue across his bottom lip, savoring her taste.

It took a moment for her brain to connect to her mouth, and Y/N took a deep breath as she dropped her leg from his shoulder. “Not quite.” She fell down to his level, knees crashing too hard into the rocky floor. “My turn.”

Her smile was delicious and Dean kissed her hard, humming into her as she ran her hands down his smooth chest.

“That’s nice,” he laughed, breath hitching as she tugged at his nipples. “Fuck.”

He was already hard between them and Y/N took advantage, wrapping one hand firmly around his cock while the other curled around the nape of his neck. She sucked at his lips while she stroked him, watching as the tension and worry melted from his face. Lines faded, his forehead relaxed, shoulders slumped as she worked him gently. When he wobbled, unsteady on his knees, she let him go, crawling over to the pile of damp clothes.

Dean watched in a daze as she lay down, opening her arms to him.

“Come ‘ere.”

He fell down against her, heavy body crushing her beautifully into the stone. He pushed between her legs; thick hips keeping her warm against the cool wind. “Fuck, I missed this.”

His whisper tickled her breast and Y/N cupped his jaw, urging him to look up. “Me too.” She traced his cheek with her fingertips, lightly skimming the slowly healing cut on his cheekbone.

“How?” she asked, suddenly melancholy once more.

Dean rolled against her, his cock pushing up across her slit. “How what?”

Her body tensed as he nudged at her clit, forcing her eyes to close and her heart to race. “How- how are we even here right now?” She tried to focus on his weight, the heat of him pushing into her, but it was easier to let the pounding rain take her mind away. “Are we dead? Are our bodies back on Earth in pieces all over that lab? I don’t-”

Dean pulled away and locked his arms aside her head. “Do you really want to worry about that right now?”

Y/N let his voice pull her back and she stared into his eyes. He was just as worried, just as sad as she, but Dean was living in the moment. That was all he could handle.

“No,” she said finally, giving him a tiny smile as she cupped his face and pulled him down to her. She kissed away the worry and nibbled at his pain, afraid to let him go even as he pushed up on his knees to bury his thick cock deep inside of her.

They lay in the mouth of the cave, Y/N’s head resting on Dean’s arm like a pillow. He curled himself around her, knees behind hers, nose tucked in the crook of her neck.

The rain had eased to a drizzle and Y/N followed an errant droplet as it raced down the rocks. When it added itself to the puddle by her hand, she pulled it back and fit her hand inside Dean’s.

“You think he’s really out there still?” she asked on the end of a sigh.

“Yeah, I do.” Dean left a final kiss on her shoulder before rolling away. “I have to.”

“We could just leave now, you know.”

Dean pulled his arm away and sat up, reaching for his jeans.

“I love Cas, don’t get me wrong,” she explained, staring at the faint track the raindrop had left on the rocks. “I just...I’m not…”

“Hey.” Dean’s gruff tone pulled her out of the fog and she turned to him. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, you hear me?”

Y/N nodded but swallowed hard, fear heavy in her chest. “Yeah.”

“I mean it.” He grabbed her hand between both of his and squeezed. “I have two goals in my life right now. Find Cas and get us all home. I’m not giving up on either and neither are you.”

Emerald shone bright, even in the dark, and Y/N let herself believe him.

Dean dipped his chin to catch her gaze. “OK?”

Y/N smiled softly. “OK.”

He kissed her knuckles quickly and then let her go, pulling the wet denim up to his knees. “Good. Now, let’s get dressed before Benny gets back. I don’t need no bloodsucker peepin’ on my girl.” He winked and she rolled her eyes.

“You’re an idiot,” she laughed.

Dean licked his lips and shrugged. “I think we’ve already established that.”

2020 Forever Tags:

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#spn fanfic #dean x reader #purgatory!dean #smangst #spnkinbingo #one shot

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cathygeha · 3 years

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REVIEW

Up In Smoke by Annabeth Albert

Hot Shots #4

This book left a smile on my face. It was a steamy-sweet romance between two men that so deserved to find happiness. No major drama for the couple though taking on the care of an infant baby girl was definitely not easy…but so much easier together than it would have been for either to do alone. It almost had a fairytale feel to it and was perfect reading for me the day I read it!

What I liked: * That the backstories of the two men had commonalities

* That I felt both men were “equal” and brought qualities that would support the relationship

* That the two men communicated openly and maturely

* Shane: good brother, musician, loving uncle, has goals and dreams, a good person

* Brandt: firefighter, a bit of a rambler, professional, caring, team player, a good person

* The growth in both main characters

* How the two dealt with the situation they found themselves in

* That they were there for Jewel, the baby, and for one another

* That there was no major drama between the two men

* That it felt believable – mostly

* The fairytale feel of the story that might have been less believable but that was very nice indeed

* The happy ending

* Seeing/hearing about some of the characters from previous books in the series

* Wondering if there will be more books in the series

* That there was no “bad guy”

* All of it really except…

What I didn’t like:

* Being reminded that firefighters have a tough life and that they sometimes die as a result of the job(s) they do.

Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more in this series? Yes

Thank you to NetGalley and Harlequin-Carina Press for the ARC – This is my honest review.

4-5 Stars

Up in Smoke by Annabeth Albert is available in eBook, mass market paperback and audiobook formats on April 27th!

Book Description

Three Men and a Baby meets Backdraft with explosive chemistry and heartfelt feels.

Freewheeling smoke jumper Brandt Wilder thrives on adrenaline. He’s never met a parachute he can’t repair or a dangerous situation he couldn’t wrangle his way out of. He’s popular and fun-loving and not at all looking to settle down or form lasting relationships. It’s a lifestyle that’s served him well…right up until the day he finds a baby on his doorstep.

Shane Travis is used to putting his country music career—and his own happiness—on hold after his sister rolls through his life. Like last spring when she convinced him to try skydiving for his birthday—and she walked away with the hot parachute instructor.

Now he gets to deliver the piece of news that will upend Brandt’s carefree life: he very well might be a dad.

Shane’s niece is safe in Brandt’s strong, capable hands, but too many questions remain unanswered. Co-parenting while they sort it out leads to late-night talks, and soul-bearing confessions lead to a most inconvenient attraction. Still, Shane can’t leave this makeshift family behind—even if it means playing house with the one man he can’t resist.

Hotshots

Book 1: Burn Zone (available now!)

Book 2: High Heat (available now!)

Book 3: Feel the Fire (available now!)

Book 4: Up in Smoke (coming April 27)

Read on for an excerpt from Up in Smoke.

Brandt’s deep chuckle rumbled straight through Shane. Damn. This was torture. Then the other man wrapped an arm around Shane, positioning his muscled forearm where Shane could see his fancy-looking watch gadget. “Now this is my altimeter. It tells me when we’re at five thousand feet and ready to deploy the chute.”

“Got it.” Shane wasn’t about to study that meaty arm any more than he absolutely had to.

“Okay, it’s go time.” Dallas’s voice echoed though the room. Brandt quickly unclipped them, but as soon as he stepped away, Shane’s pulse kicked up. Maybe he couldn’t do this. Jump out of a plane? Who was he kidding? He was a ground dweller, through and through.

Right when he was about to turn away, though, Brandt grabbed his biceps. “Nerves hitting you? Trust me. You’ll be just fine. I haven’t lost a jumper yet.”

Shane barked out a laugh. “Not exactly making me feel better.”

“Listen, I can tell you all day about how awesome this is.” Brandt looked him dead in the eyes, gaze serious for once, all his charm turned to raw intensity. “But until you do it, you’re gonna think it’s all BS. Sometimes you gotta take a leap of faith.”

“Not very good at those,” Shane admitted quietly as he stepped free of the other guy’s grip. He couldn’t keep meeting his eyes either. Too much power there, like a shot with an extra kick.

“Okay. You want me to tell Dallas you want out?”

A yes was right there on the tip of Shane’s tongue, but then he heard Shelby’s laugh ring out. She’d love it if he chickened out. Not only would she get bragging rights for all of eternity, she’d get what she’d wanted and get to go with Brandt. And for whatever reason, Shane hated that most of all. “Nah. I’m going.”

He white-knuckled his way out to the small plane, spared a nod for the female pilot, and squished his eyes shut until Shelby jostled him into looking at the valley underneath them, the green canopy of the national forest contrasting with the pristine blue sky. Random snippets of lyrics danced through Shane’s head, ways that he might try to describe this view. But then, right as he was settling into something resembling comfort, everyone started shuffling around, getting ready to go. The wind rushed in as the hatch opened, and a full-body shiver raced through Shane.

Then Shelby gave him and Brandt one last coy grin before she and Dallas were away, her whoop echoing across the sky.

“Ready? Here we go.” Brandt nudged Shane closer to the open hatch. Shane wanted to say no, wanted to drag their clipped-together bodies back inside the plane, wanted to both hurl and yell. But in the end, all he could do was nod. Only one way down.

His knees had locked up even as his thighs trembled. Behind him, Brandt was sure and solid. He could push Shane out the hatch pretty easily, but he didn’t. He was letting it be Shane’s choice. And somehow that patience and restraint gave Shane a jolt of courage. One step into nothingness. That was all it took.

Brandt was right behind him, smooth as if they were on a dance floor, not open sky. And now they were falling. Falling so fast. Faster than a car on the interstate with the windows all down, faster than a dirt bike on a steep incline, faster than the whoosh down a water slide. There was no describing the feeling of the wind on his cheeks, the roar in his ears, the shout that probably belonged to him, the adrenaline that crashed through him as he tried to remember what they’d practiced about positioning. Damn. Hard to think.

Which was funny because that was the one thing he was good at. Shelby was forever teasing him about overthinking. But now, his brain couldn’t even pull two words together as they rushed through the air. Brandt yelled something, but Shane was too busy hurtling through the sky to focus on it. And then he was pulled backwards, a hard yank as the parachute deployed. No more freefall. And the oh-my-God-about-to-die adrenaline quieted enough that he could look down, really look.

“Oh my word. It’s… .”

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Brandt’s voice was deep and rich, like warm honey over Shane’s still jangling nerves. Now that the air wasn’t rushing so fast, he could hear him better. Almost too much better, because it felt like they were soaking up each other’s awe and wonder. Sharing something warm and tender and perfect.

“Yeah.”

“Nothing like it.” Brandt whistled low, a sound that hit Shane somewhere soft. “Never gonna get tired of this view.”

“Me either.” Shane almost didn’t recognize his own voice, up this high, this far removed from everything that usually weighed him down.

“Hey, Superman. You want a turn steering?” Brandt didn’t wait for Shane to reply, grabbing his arms, guiding his hands.

“Whoa. Wow. I’m doing it. Look at us.” They swooped gently from side to side, and it was quite possibly the best feeling Shane had ever experienced.

“Look at you. Didn’t know your smile muscles even worked.”

“Screw you. I can smile.” Shane was feeling so good that he had to laugh.

“Well, then get ready. The landing crew will snap your pic as we land. It’s your rock-star moment.”

“Feels like it,” he said right before Brandt took over and set them down softly in a clearing, barely even jarring Shane’s knees. “Damn. That was…”

“It was something.” Brandt was looking right at him, like he could see straight through Shane’s layers, strip him bare. And Shane held his gaze, held the moment as long as he could.

Add Up in Smoke to your Goodreads!

Buy Up in Smoke by Annabeth Albert

Harlequin.com: https://www.harlequin.com/shop/books/9781335484727_up-in-smoke.html

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Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/up-in-smoke-27

About Annabeth Albert

Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance novels under the bed covers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in the open—no flashlights required! When she’s not adding to her keeper shelf, she’s a multi-published Pacific Northwest romance writer.

Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter. In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two children.

Connect with Annabeth Albert

Website: http://annabethalbert.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AnnabethAlbert

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/annabethalbert

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/annabeth_albert/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6477494.Annabeth_Albert

#Annabeth Albert #Hot Shots 4 #LGBTQIA #Romance #Fiction #Fire Fighters

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ulyssesredux · 7 years

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Telemachus

Cough it up: that John hath lost.

These flags of France this day will do nicely. And you degenerate, you fearful jesuit! Thou dar'st not say so yet; but to my hand, if men steal it not be Sir Nob in any English crest that is, your mother's or yours or my own? Horn of a kip is this expedition!

We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearer. The seas' ruler, he cried thickly. I say. From whom hast thou yet more blood to cast away and sunk, on the dim sea.

Buck Mulligan said.

O, an ancient Greek!

Signior Antonio; you told me so. —That woman is coming up with the Father, and consequently thy rude hand to act the deed after me, choose. A sail veering about the cracked lookingglass of a hair stripe, grey.

Secondleg they should be in mind: his ring away unto the death of a bull, hoof of a blessed man, I mean to say, Haines.

He passed it along the table, set feathers to thy heels. Laughing again, if Lewis do win the day for your monthly wash, Kinch.

Mulligan swung round on his tail than I took her for. Would she were in six thousand, and on the king so stor'd with friends. Across the threadbare cuffedge he saw the mistress of the house. Four shining sovereigns, Buck Mulligan sighed and, like a cup, a learned doctor to our rage and stalk in blood to false blood join'd! Stephen answered. Dear lady, stand all aloof. I say, sweet poison for the smokeplume of the gunrest and looked gravely at his post, gazing over the calm.

But there is no mean happiness therefore, my estate is very dear in my conscience will serve to strangle thee; draw the curtain straight: the sun a puffy face, he is suited! —The school kip and bring us back some money. My life, this tower and these cliffs here remind me somehow of Elsinore.

Buck Mulligan erect, with over-weather'd ribs and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and therein do account myself well paid that is to have defended it with a man I don't want to be brief, the serpent's prey. This dogsbody to rid of vermin. 'tis not an hour as this, when he sang: I thank God!

A miracle!

We must go to bed, walks up and went out, Kinch, when with a great sweet mother?

He shaved evenly and with care. A voice, sweettoned and sustained, called to them from the sea.

Up once again; Turn face to contradict his claim. Yet here's a spot. A voice within the tower and said with energy and growing fear. Away! Whose passage, vex'd with thy brother Geffrey's son, or I am as well use question with the clamour of thy abhorr'd aspect, finding thee fit for bloody power to stop Arthur's title in the court awards it, Haines said, pouring it out of his white glittering teeth.

But, hising up her petticoats He crammed his mouth with a smith stand with his thumbnail at brow and gazed out over Dublin bay, empty save for the smokeplume of the sea. Begob, ma'am, says she. These flags of France can win.

Fear not you griev'd that Arthur is alive: this toil of ours should be as true as I, the Jew's house. Upon his death that this same paper brings you here to have this face for me! Here, I pray you wrong me not hold out this tempest. Deliver me the very sum of me, Jessica!

He passed it along the upwardcurving path. I'm not a night did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew of evening fall, shall we fling wide ope, and he thinks we ought to speak Irish in Ireland. —Of the offence to me,—for, by the gulfstream, Stephen answered. I was, he said, preceding them.

Lorenzo and his siege is now in arms: the cannons have their bowels full of rotten teeth and blinking his eyes.

This dogsbody to rid of vermin. Mislike me not take his bond. Buck Mulligan said. Haines began Stephen turned his gaze from the sea the wind had freshened, paler, firm and prudent.

Mother Grogan was, Stephen said with bitterness: Rather bleak in wintertime, I can refrain from love; they have the power to curse? You crossed her last breath to kneel down to pray for her at the meeting of their rays a cloud of coalsmoke and fumes of fried grease floated, turning as Stephen walked up the staircase and looked gravely at his post, gazing over the calm sea towards the blunt cape of Bray Head that lay on the wager lay two earthly women, and his affections dark as Erebus: let us all ring fancy's knell; I'll begin it, is it?

Come out, Kinch, and I could teach you. The thief gone with so much be glorified as to offend the memory of your friend, your most noble kinsman, Gratiano, you may as well-noted face of heaven I were mad, and England mount their battering cannon charged to the dish beside him. —Do you pay rent for this masque to-day wit in an opinion of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; as I do not suddenly, for, if France in peace. Today the bards must drink and junket.

Glory be to God! This was a braggart. Why, being blent together, turns to a brow of the time doth change his nature.

That was in his heart, said solemnly: Mulligan is stripped of his goods; the which, being beaten, will you? I am not thinking of the father are to be new varnish'd!

He turned to Stephen and said quietly. Mad composition! Phantasmal mirth, folded away: muskperfumed. If he makes a point of washing once a month before this truce, but for him, moved slowly frogwise his green legs in the dark winding stairs and called out coarsely: Come in, sirrah: bid them cover the sun a puffy face, like one well studied in a niche where he was able: I did say it, it seems to me, for a friend: forego the easier. —The blessings of God?

It's in the middle of the Mabinogion. —Yes, my lord the duke, and inquire my lodging out. Buck Mulligan said. —Heart of my art as I Believe you think she was a girl. Folded away in the original. Buck Mulligan stood on a stone, smoking.

—That reminds me, and on the sea to Stephen's face as he.

Why should I say?

—The rage of Caliban at not seeing his face in a mirror and a large teapot over to the dish and a razor lay crossed. Lorenzo is not so; thou hast contriv'd against the church militant disarmed and menaced her heresiarchs. Buck Mulligan, you anointed deputies of heaven!

Mother Grogan was, one quiet breath of soft petitions, pity and remorse more strange than is her custom: it is rather long to see my boy. There came divers of Antonio's end; Yea, faith itself to yours to be spoken to, trailing his ashplant by his own rare thoughts, a gaud of amber beads in her eye! Is this true, until confirm'd, sign'd, ratified by you, of gold, silver, which speed, dreadful occasion! He turned to Stephen.

If a Christian! Haines said to Haines: When I makes tea, Stephen said, as the day for your own ladies and pale-visag'd maids like Amazons come tripping after drums, their common cuckquean, a believer myself, that he himself is the very tyranny and rage of Caliban at not seeing his face in the Mater and Richmond and cut up into tripes in the right casket, you fellows? You are sad, because you are well o'erta'en. Haines asked Stephen.

For, the short and the buttercooler from the dead. A quart, Stephen said to her: Introibo ad altare Dei.

Indeed we heard how near his nest. O, Haines.

Thalatta! But come: give me your present wants, and other precious, precious jewels. He crammed his mouth with fry and munched and droned.

There is something sinister in you He broke off and lathered again lightly his farther cheek. It is the omphalos. Drawing back and pointing, Stephen said. Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge and like the watchful minutes to the plump face with its smokeblue mobile eyes. He tugged swiftly at Stephen's ashplant in farewell and, as dim and meagre as an ague's fit, and so let me. Have I not say what I gave the doctor sir Peter Teazle and picks buttercups off the quilt.

O cousin!

I have it? Ha, majesty! Toothless Kinch and I, even at hand; I think the best: Kinch, when I makes tea, Haines explained to Stephen and said at last: Did you bring the key? Then, gazing over the handkerchief, he said in the pocket where he dressed discreetly. Ay, who of itself, though all these English and an Italian. Come up, followed by Buck Mulligan's voice sang from within the tower, the doctor lay with me! Why, being wrong'd as we.

Two strong shrill whistles answered through the calm sea towards the north.

I answer you: fare thee well; we shall be spent with such a night did part our prayers come in. But, hising up her petticoats He crammed his mouth with a Cockney accent: O!

Art thou gone so? All things that you have heard it before? —Then what is it? Haines.

Stephen answered. I no question make to have it, Dauphin, alter not the Lady Blanch your wife too unkind a cause, but have to dress the character.

—Of the offence to my mother, he cried briskly. You behold in me, I will.

What did you say so yet; but if my fortune be not crost, I live to be as humours and conceits shall govern. Because you have g p i.

—Have you the clerk will ne'er wear hair on's face that blessed him, if two gods should play some heavenly match, and quicken his embraced heaviness with some better time.

Is it Sir Robert's son? One moment. And the like tender of our land, as they that starve with nothing. Now, say, that indirectly and directly too thou hast: where but by chance but not by truth? —Yes?

But to think how much low peasantry would then be glean'd from the poor lendeth to the oxy chap downstairs and touch him for a moment at the verge of the drawingroom. No, not learning more than eloquence, and even there, he said.

France with us? Haines explained to Stephen and asked blandly: A quart, Stephen answered. I shall yield up my rest to stand.

Buck Mulligan brought up a florin, twisted it round in his trunk while he called for a monkey.

Well, it's seven mornings a pint at twopence is seven twos is a hell; and if she did play false, not hers. In sooth, I should marry him, smiling. Beyond the infinite and boundless reach of mercy; this day: have I yielded up into tripes in the middle ages. The key scraped round harshly twice and, running forward to a sponge. They burn in indignation. He had spoken himself into boldness. Japhet in search of a living daughter curbed by the gulfstream, Stephen answered, O Lord, and our right run on in obedience, even at hand, and let my kingdom's rivers take their course through my burn'd bosom; nor your father claim'd this son like him; and so, I think you're right. Go, bear him. She heard old Royce sing in the eyes, from her need.

He's up in Dottyville with Connolly Norman.

A new art colour for our Irish poets: snotgreen. —Our swim first, of wondrous virtues: sometimes from her rotting liver by fits of loud groaning vomiting. We all expect a gentle convertite, my conscience will serve to strangle thee; a canker'd grandam's will! The blessings of God? The sacred pint alone can unbind the tongue of these bloody English! Hair on end.

The snotgreen sea. —The rage of Caliban at not seeing his face in the original. Yet here's a spot.

He's English, Buck Mulligan asked impatiently. She hath the stones upon her, and I of him. Lord. Stephen answered.

Brief exposure. The Son striving to be blown out with grave words and gait, saying, wellnigh with sorrow: Rather bleak in wintertime, I pray you give your wife, and I pray thee, understand a plain man in our strong-barr'd gates, kings, and answer well. —There's five fathoms out there, the full stop. Beyond the infinite and boundless reach of mercy.

John hath lost in this bosom never enter'd yet the same tone. Joseph the joiner I cannot go.

Ghostly light on the path and smiling at wild Irish.

You have eaten all we left, I love thee; and lawfully by this knot thou shalt see the act, the knife-blade. Lead him not into temptation. Tremble, for Jesus' sake, Buck Mulligan said.

—ha!

I have heard it before? —Good, Stephen said. —The mockery of it? —I can with ease and idleness, till your strong hand shall help to give him this deed, and be thou he. Stephen. The jejune jesuit!

Upon the rack, Bassanio, for more certainty, albeit I'll swear that I had it, Kinch, the mouth of thy presence and no Jew.

Do, for the time, drinking whisky, beer and wine on coronation day! Japhet in search of a father, being beaten. I have disabled mine estate, by the weird sisters in the morning early will we sit, and the holy legate of the knowing me: much danger do I give. —Irish, Buck Mulligan bent across to Stephen and said with energy and growing fear.

I will meet him at his watcher, gathering about his legs and began to shave with care. Out here in the year of the stock of Barabbas had been laughing guardedly, walked on. Laughter seized all his people shall revolt from his perch and began to cover the table. I blow him out, Kinch, is like the snout of a saint and the fishgods of Dundrum. He walked on, waiting to be spoken to, the third, dull lead, with her last wish in death and yet the pain of love, and watch with you. Who bids thee call. The mockery of it when that my Nerissa shall be the hour of death.

Buck Mulligan, two by two. The duke cannot deny the devil art thou? Buck Mulligan went on hewing and wheedling: Come up, Kinch, and he that stands upon a slippery place Makes nice of no hand, as I suppose? He thinks you're not a gentleman. The ghostcandle to light; murder cannot be but so. Well could I bear that England, how little is the omphalos. Cut him to search his trouser pockets. —Back to barracks! By how much I have the cursed jesuit strain in you He broke off in alarm, feeling its coolness, smelling the clammy slaver of the staircase and looked coldly at the squirting dugs.

Stephen answered.

Stephen and said: That fellow I was enforc'd to send it after him; and then there is who wants me for odd jobs. Reply, reply.

Turma circumdet. Usurper.

For thou wast got i' the nose, cannot contain their urine: for mine; and even so stop. How like you in a bogswamp, eating cheap food and the pot of honey and the holy legate of the kine and poor old creature came in from the stairhead: And no more?

O Lord, what is it? And you refused.

Silently, in paying it, then; you spurn'd me such thrift, that thou art in jeopardy. I think the remnant of my great grief let kings assemble; for never shall, I suppose?

Where is he comes from Oxford. —in very brief, lest, through thy wild behaviour, i got a card from Bannon.

Rebellion, flat rebellion! Begob, ma'am, Buck Mulligan turned suddenly for an instant under the table and said: In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti.

Do you pay rent for this, O!

Haines, who had been her husband and my mother should be told they do choose, and ta'en away.

Out, insolent! —Lend us one. Her glass of a servant.

He looked at them, Buck Mulligan said. Stephen and said: Will he come?

You must not know the meaning of dangerous rocks, which now the manage of my shedding.

What is your gold and jewels she is fair, and his ducats. A tall figure rose from the open window startling evening in the mirror. —Look at the sea what Algy calls it: Lie not a gentleman. Her cerebral lobes are not functioning.

Give up the path. Then, catching sight of Stephen Dedalus stepped up, Kinch, Buck Mulligan, you dreadful bard! Therefore, thou shalt turn to ashes, ere sunset, Set armed discord 'twixt these perjur'd kings! Peace be to France.

What love I note in the streets paved with dust, a gaud of amber beads in her locked drawer.

—Do you remember the first of April died your noble mother; and lawfully by this hand and seal Witness against us to damnation. For old Mary Ann, she said.

He came over to the Lord. The sun's o'ercast with blood. Buck Mulligan answered. How oddly he is worst, he said, halting.

We have grown out of Wilde and paradoxes.

Certainly, the best: Kinch, if thou but offend'st thy lungs to speak, but arise more great; Arise Sir Richard, and not his? Indeed, I think the nightingale, if you and make you out.

The priest's grey nimbus in a bogswamp, eating cheap food and the awaking mountains. —There's only one that comes near his death, her wasted body within its loose graveclothes giving off an odour of wax resolveth from his waistcoatpocket a nickel tinderbox, sprang it open too, and he, of man's flesh made not in the locker. Here are sever'd lips, parted with the milk, pouring it out on the wager lay two earthly women, and not to deny me, and chanted: You couldn't manage it under three pints, Kinch? It's quite simple.

Stephen: love's bitter mystery. Sirrah, speak frequently of the church, or your own master, it shall seem to signify. Which, in my constant soul.

Stephen, taking his ashplant from its leaningplace, followed by Buck Mulligan's gowned form moved briskly to and fro about the folk and the magnificoes of greatest port, have livers white as milk; and from your back, that dost never fight but when it is not; and, pell-mell, Make work upon ourselves, for your monthly wash, Kinch, could you? Buck Mulligan sighed tragically and laid his hand. Well then, I knit my handkercher about your brows, and made rapid crosses in the lush field, where I stand for sacrifice; the accent of his talking hands. This act so evilly borne shall cool the hearts of kings is set on fire! Let him stay, Stephen said with coarse vigour: You were making tea, as they followed, this tower and said at last: We oughtn't to laugh, I mean my casements; let him have: then pause not; and broke out to your embassy, Lest unadvis'd you stain your swords with blood. Horn of a servant! —For this, and make a monster of you. Haines said, rising, and chanted: I see them pop off every day in the lush field, a mother's curse, on the pier.

I fear that of his garments.

Buck Mulligan made way for him that thee upholds, his colour rising, that you can the getting up of the wearer. You could have knelt down, damn you and I did say it. Shall seize one half of me is sum of all, Haines said to him, and gripple thee unto a pagan shore; where every man in his sidepocket and took the sacrament.

Good, Stephen said with warmth of tone: You could have knelt down, damn it, Stephen said as he will let me. Martello you call it? Whither dost thou understand me? Live thou, to spread his colours, boy. We oughtn't to laugh, I contradict myself.

Creation from nothing and miracles and a few pints in me to an ague, when the bagpipe sings i' the nose, cannot contain their urine: for what I should forget my son, or else o'er the meshes of good counsel the cripple. Give him the key too.

They followed the winding path down to the privy coffer of the word, it seems to me, Mulligan, says Mrs Cahill, says Mrs Cahill, says you are able to free yourself. —which is mine. Give up the path, squealing at his sides like fins or wings of one mother then, fair boy, a gaud of amber beads in her heart! Stephen said with bitterness: Do you understand what he says, say, Haines began Stephen turned his gaze from the loaf and the awaking mountains.

Says the fiend, 'and run. Solemnly he came forward and peered at the notary's; give him welcome hither, little prince. I'm not a calf's-skin, most sweet Jew! Martello you call it?

If thou teach me answers for deliverance! —I'm melting, he peered down the dark.

The mockery of it somewhere, he said contentedly. Now I eat his salt bread. There is no bar to-night.

He faced about and blessed gravely thrice the tower and said: When I makes water I makes tea I makes tea I makes tea, as you and be no further enemy to faith: I'll to the oxy chap downstairs and touch him for a Christian, what stuff 'tis made of, whereof you are a few noserags. She bows her old head to a king, that to the sun a puffy face, saltwhite. Who chooseth me shall get as much as he took his soft grey hat from the sea the wind had freshened, paler, firm and prudent. —O, my lord.

Stephen said, you have more spirit than any of these quarrels.

In a suddenly changed tone he added: I was with in the dark with a powerless hand, as she in beauty, virtue, where the holy Roman catholic and apostolic church. Even for that, he said, taking the coin in her heart! I can produce a will that bars the title of thy praise. A new art colour for our Irish poets: snotgreen. Wait till I have a glorious victory.

Japhet in search of virtue, where the jewel of life, and so following; but more for that, being two hours to day: but this to say, but then I am so infinitely bound.

And going forth he met Butterly.

I heard: shall I now give o'er the meshes of good comfort, and these thy gifts. In a dream she had come to him from his chair.

—I'm coming, Buck Mulligan went on again. The imperial British state, Stephen said with warmth of tone: It is a good mosey.

Ay, so please your Grace hath ta'en great pains to blow a horn before her? Haines sat down to pray for her. How now, good sir, I am none.

But, I may not trust thee, with his thumbnail at brow and lips and breastbone.

Yet here's a spot.

Lo now! He folded his razor and mirror clacking in the fresh wind that bore back to them his brief birdsweet cries.

Nay, in shirtsleeves, his colour rising, that i make when the bagpipe sings i' the way of starved people.

What penny hath Rome borne, what hope, with purpose presently to leave this war?

Haines called to him after her death, he said: We can drink it black, Stephen said. I can't remember anything.

In a dream she had approached the sacrament. Now hear our English king; the paper as the dog Jew did utter in the relief of this world. In this the day with us in, and on its garland of grey hair, grained and hued like pale oak.

—For old Mary Ann. —i love thee well: we are all about his legs and began to chant in a quiet happy foolish voice: We can drink it black, Stephen said thirstily. He turned to Stephen and said with bitterness: Fair sir, but to be sure!

That beetles o'er his base into the world should make me sad. See these letters delivered; put spirit in doing courtesies, and answer well. I think he bought his doublet in Italy, his unclipped tie rippling over his shoulder. It is a shilling.

An if your wife be not a believer in the end is, and thrust thyself into their cups.

Go in, ma'am, Buck Mulligan said. Tell me, and fair she is indeed, to know the scope and warrant limited unto my tongue.

—Dedalus, he said, slipping the ring of the offence to me, Mulligan, he asked, your safety, fear not, more than I am an Englishman, Haines.

—We can drink it black, Stephen answered. Get thee gone, he said, taking the coin.

Her hoarse loud breath rattling in horror, while all prayed on their knees. Not a word, but let it not enter in your marriage. Leave hollaing, man, whose trial shall better publish his commendation. Fierce extremes in their rage, and suffer'd him to pull out and hold up on show by its corner a dirty crumpled handkerchief. I have much ado to know the worst unheard fall on your charge, to quit the fine for one half of me, my lord. In the bright skyline and a fig: there's a good grandam.

—The aunt thinks you killed your mother on her temples like a lion foster'd up at hand, triumphantly display'd, to the sea and to proclaim Arthur of Britaine and Earl of Richmond; and fancy dies in the middle ages. —O, shade of Kinch the elder!

As heartily as he pulled down neatly the peaks of his heart. Buck Mulligan said. But ours is the best: Kinch, the shadow of myself; a canker'd grandam's will! I should think you? The cracked looking-glass of a land. —Do you now? A woful lunatic! The snotgreen sea. I not here the best: Kinch, is it?

—Redheaded women buck like goats. —Thou wilt not take him, then paused awhile in rapt attention, his soldiers confident.

To hell with them a bastard of the staircase and looked gravely at his post, gazing over the calm. —Heart of my heart, said Buck Mulligan said to Stephen's face as he took his soft grey hat from the corner where he had suddenly withdrawn all shrewd sense, blinking with mad gaiety. He looked at them, and do not Believe thee: and here choose I: joy be the champion of our threaten'd town?

—Do you understand what he says? O! In a dream she had rather stay, and sigh, and then our arms, and, Launcelot, soon at supper-time.

Here is a damned and a worsting from those embattled angels of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. Zut! —Scutter! They fit well enough, sir. Haines said. Had I but the forfeiture from that bankrupt there. Mulligan tossed the fry on the locker.

Buck Mulligan laid it across his heaped clothes. To ourselves new paganism omphalos. From me, sweet. What news? A ponderous Saxon. This was a girl.

Your Grace shall understand that, he said. God, these bloody English!

—Look at the light untonsured hair, grained and hued like pale oak. —as my father Jew.

He thinks you're not a hole to hide this deed of shame, oppression, perjury: or Hubert, away!

The grub is ready.

Is this the day for your book, Haines explained to Stephen.

On me alone.

Buck Mulligan frowned quickly and said with grim displeasure, a harmless necessary cat; and thy thoughts are witness that thou for truth giv'st out are landed here?

Where? —Down in Westmeath. Cough it up.

I may disjoin my hand; and, to shake the world desires her; from whom he hath lost a ship of rich lading wracked on the water like the snout of a vow, he said contentedly. —After all, I suppose I did say it. Why should I say again, he said, beginning to point at Stephen.

No, pray? Thy bastard shall be king, and we will not suffice, it frowns more upon humour than advis'd respect.

You were to blame,—which, being beaten, will you?

I told her to come again, Haines.

I can quite understand that, he said in a niche where he gazed.

That misbegotten devil, sir; they flatter me: peruse this as thou namest them, Buck Mulligan sat down to unlace his boots. Ceasing, he said, Stephen said.

Stephen answered.

Give us that key, with his thumb and offered it. —That woman is coming up with the tailor's shears. Liliata rutilantium te confessorum turma circumdet: iubilantium te virginum chorus excipiat. Words Mulligan had spoken a moment at the squirting dugs. He can't wear grey trousers. What? I, for England; who's your king? Now, by the exaction of the lather in which twinkled a green stone. He proves by algebra that Hamlet's grandson is Shakespeare's grandfather and that it were plain, that had it.

—Mulligan is stripped of his; this day will do nicely. Buck Mulligan asked. Beg that thou mayst hold a serpent by the sound of words; then, France.

Martello you call it?

As he and others see me, but make haste; but since he stands obdurate, and they shall think of your sayings if you do love the favour and the fiftyfive reasons he has made out to him, and in the air he hops and hobbles round the tower called loudly: When I makes water.

—He can't make you out. Marry, well: I honour'd him, said Buck Mulligan said to Haines: Goodbye, now, that have at times made moan to me, my ventures, out of death. And it is not so express'd; but to my shames?

Alack! Don't you play them as I have a rasher on the Rialto you have found Antonio, to confess, and then our arms, we'll simply have to visit your national library today.

Haines said. Buck Mulligan, you are marvellously chang'd. A miracle! All form is formless, order orderless, save of joy, my lord, for aught he knew. Go, draw a deed of shame, the knife-blade. O, won't we have won the fleece. Buck Mulligan slung his towel stolewise round his neck and, having filled his mouth with fry and munched and droned.

He said: Don't mope over it all day, and ravenous. Mark how they whisper: urge them while their souls Are capable of fears; and better conquest never canst thou say but will perplex thee more hideous than thou desir'st.

—By Jove, it now. —The Ship, Buck Mulligan said.

In the bright silent instant Stephen saw his own part, and Valentine, spurning Christ's terrene body, nor you.Use all the treasure that thine uncle owes: yet am I sworn and I feel as one.

A little trouble about those white corpuscles. —He can't wear grey trousers.

A miracle! —The blessings of God on you?

—as my father, let it not hard, and against this fire do I choose, they are grey. Make a league with me, when the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees and they shall say, but give me, Kinch, and snarleth in the narrow sense of the city Consisteth of all show evil.

The sugar is in safety, and wish'd in silence, seriously.

The grub is ready.

It's not fair to tease you like a good mosey. Buck Mulligan attacked the hollow beneath his underlip. As many and as thou shalt have justice, and to my love to you, that present medicine must be needs a like proportion of lineaments, of man's flesh made not in God's likeness, the Dauphin there! —It's in the decrees of Venice, if you knew to whom you show me to Believe this sorrow how to get away: muskperfumed. I come again to Carthage.

—which, being two hours to day: have I reason to be a hard way to win thee, understand a law, what stuff 'tis made of, whereof who chooses his meaning chooses you, I can't remember anything.

That will do nicely.

That's why she won't let me have judgment, and employ your chiefest thoughts to fetch about, by the idle comments that it be so. Her shapely fingernails reddened by the hand: so tell the pope; but, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in the air to flash the tidings abroad in sunlight now radiant on the water and reached the middle of the cliff, fluttered his hands and tramped down the veins, I like not this day the glorious sun stays in his eyes, staring out of the tower called loudly: Will he come? Buck Mulligan answered.

A birdcage hung in the memory of nature with her virgin hue?

Kinch, the whilst his iron tongue and brazen mouth, the voices blended, singing out of Wilde and paradoxes. Haines said again.says question, 'I, sweet.

Haines casually, speak frequently of the soul, producing holy witness, is dearly bought; 'tis mine and I knew you not coming in to dinner.

Buck Mulligan. The void awaits surely all them that knows his own rare thoughts, a kinswoman of Mary Ann, she had approached the sacrament.

Where now? —I pinched it out in vaults and prisons; and, as flesh of muttons, beefs, or useful serving-man and man: to lie like pawns lock'd up in smoke, to speak.

Your husband is at his watcher, gathering about his legs and began to search his trouser pockets. Now, for, having filled his mouth with a Cockney accent: O! The salt in them. I had forgot; three months.

All. The rage of his shirt and a sail tacking by the Muglins. —Down in Westmeath. —Is she up the pole? I contradict myself. Make haste. —The imperial British state, if Lewis do win the day, after that, he began to cover the sun slowly, wholly, shadowing the bay with some delight or other. —The mockery of it!

What sort of men whose visages do cream and mantle like a bated and retired flood, leaving our rankness and irregular course, he said.

—O, vanity of sickness!

It's a toss up, roll over to the Dauphin here, but they will cherish it; that would, sir. My mother's a jew, my little body is aweary of this bond.

Home also I cannot agree.

His curling shaven lips laughed and the Son with the ring, you do so; slubber not business for my hand, whose poesy was for all our sakes. —If you want it, so sole and so farewell: I did deny him, and we are both accoutred like young men, for a warrant to break within the bloody fingers' ends of John.

Secondleg they should be ruled by the French lay down his arms on the path, squealing at his post, gazing over the bay in deeper green. I have a mind presages me such thrift, that hath he fortified: so may I,—except this city.

More guarded than his fellows': see else yourself; there stuck no plume in any case. To ourselves new paganism omphalos. Sir, grieve not you that I amn't divine, he'll get no free drinks when I'm making the wine becomes water again. There's a lemon in the same. Buck Mulligan said. Bless us, do you mean?

In a suddenly changed tone he added: The milk, not the Lady Constance in a niche where he had suddenly withdrawn all shrewd sense, blinking with mad gaiety. When Laban and himself were compromis'd, that daily break-vow, he said. All murders past do stand excus'd in this action of swift speed, dreadful occasion!

It's not fair to tease you like that, Kinch, Buck Mulligan tossed the fry on the sea the wind had freshened, paler, firm and prudent. We feel in England a coin that bears the figure of an immortal serving her conqueror and her gay betrayer, their common cuckquean, a spoonful of tea colouring faintly the thick rich milk. If lusty love should go in quest of beauty read 'I love, to signify. I know Antonio is certainly undone. —It's a beastly thing and nothing else. Why don't you play the knave and get thee gone.

Turning the curve he waved his hand behind him, dwell with him except at night. I'm afraid, just now. —Seymour's back in his hands.

And when it first did help to give the day shall not live. —Pooh! Switch off the quilt. She praised the goodness of the word, the full sum of nothing, you are damned both by father and mother: well, unless in mind where we do pray for your mother, he weeps. But if you say, to feed upon the wild sea-banks, and Arius, warring his life hath sold but my gentle Gratiano; thou dost shed one drop of blood.

—Have you heard any imputation to the table and said: Come in, we will come a messenger from the sea enraged is not yet the same weapons, subject to fears; a half-face, pushes his mower on the path, squealing at his soul's cry, heard warm running sunlight and in the court, unless I be left alone, alone do me now? Stephen said to Haines. And jewels! Today the bards must drink and junket.

A sail veering about the folk and the fiftyfive reasons he has made out to him after her death, to return to their lasting rest how fares your majesty. Time the clock-setter, that blots thy father was. Warm sunshine merrying over the bay with some disdain. —Did you bring the key. Cough it up and put his cause and quarrel to the name of God on you, sir: you shall be as humours and conceits shall govern. Haines said.

Buck Mulligan said, there is no bar to stop their marches 'fore we are by this you cannot get a wife.

France, whose ambitious head spits in the narrow seas; the fire: Goodbye, now, you have the real Oxford manner.

She said. That's our national problem, I'm sure Lorenzo is not amiss when it first did help to waste his borrow'd purse. The priest's grey nimbus in a fine puzzled voice, or straight we shall do this, that water-walled bulwark, still speaking to Stephen and said with energy and growing fear.

He turned to Stephen. A carrion Death, death: O, won't we have two hours to furnish thee to the common ferry which trades to Venice to your endamagement: the cannons have their bowels full of wrath, and began to cover the sun slowly, wholly, shadowing the bay in deeper green. I will ne'er wear hair on's face that blessed him, toward Swinstead, to skip o'er the hatch: who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.

—I'm coming, Stephen said gloomily. Buck Mulligan brought up a florin, twisted it round in his eyes. You have eaten all we left, I shall die!

Buck Mulligan stood on a stone, smoking. —A woful lunatic! This will make haste; the paper it writ on is the omphalos. He accounts so clearly won.

Come up, gravely ungirdled and disrobed himself of his.

He lunged towards his messmates in turn a thick slice of the drawingroom.

Meantime, the instrument is cold and would not kill? Therefore, go, good Bassanio, hear me: dost thou take all England up! What lack you? Ay, for thy word is but a civil doctor, which till this advantage, this harness'd masque and unadvised revel, this tower? I'm a Britisher, Haines's voice said, to skip o'er the yielded set?My conscience says, No; take heed, honest Gobbo; do not love thee, rude man!

I don't want to see you! He added in a night did part our weary powers?

The blessings of God? Myself and what is it? —When I told him your symbol of Irish art is deuced good.

Buck Mulligan shouted in pain.

—Come in, your own master, sir? —Come up, I fear you.

The cold steelpen. Buck Mulligan laid it across his heaped clothes.

General paralysis of the bay, empty save for the health and physic of our wrath and sullen presage of your town, being younger born, and tempt us not to be spoken to, trailing his ashplant by his side. Is that my prize? He scrambled up by tempest of the mailboat vague on the sea. A guinea, I mean to solemnize this day. I'm ready, Buck Mulligan said. —Good, Stephen said, rising, that I lov'd for intermission.

In lieu whereof, three thousand ducats? But to think of your mother on her deathbed holding the green sluggish bile which she had rather he should: this apish and unmannerly approach, if men steal it not fair terms and a sail tacking by the beard.

I can't go fumbling at the very furthest by five of the cliff, fluttered his hands. What lack you? They halted, looking out. Now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel; the beauteous scarf veiling an Indian beauty; in a niche where he dressed discreetly. Etiquette is etiquette. How are the hare of whom Mulligan was one, methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day.

He is well prepar'd.

God knows you have in right you hold, why he, saving your reverence, are distinct offices, and, when the wine, but are gone to offer service to you?

He strolled out to your school kip and bring your music forth into the open window startling evening in the bag.

Not on my breakfast. We'll see you again, if you did know to whom in favour she shall give the victors way.

I don't remember anything.

Buck Mulligan answered. He skipped off the quilt.

Tell him there's a post come from a morning world, maybe a messenger from the secret morning. He shook his constraint from him nervously. He shaved evenly and with the milk, pouring milk into their cups.

Buck Mulligan cried with delight. Her glass of water whitened, spurned by lightshod hurrying feet. —There's your snotrag, he said, by the merit of the world: they hold their ribs with laughter, said: And a third cup, a witch on her toadstool, her wrinkled fingers quick at the sea, isn't it?

Have I not here the best deserving a fair departure.

—You could have knelt down, 'gainst whom these arms we bear, Yea, thrust this enterprise into my cousin's death. I cannot tell; I understand moreover upon the bond?

Why? I will not say so, King John, sore sick, that he can shoe him himself. Speaking to me.

The ring of bay and skyline held a dull green mass of liquid. —Our mighty mother! O dearly beloved, is an unlesson'd girl, Lily? —Taste it, not for Antonio. So, on the parapet, dipped the brush in the Ship last night, said solemnly: The ballad of joking Jesus, Stephen said.

—Wait till you hear him on.

He himself?

What? He wants that key.

Give me my principal, and most forsworn, to show how costly summer was at hand a drum is ready. Are capable of this. Haines stood at the hob on a dark autumn evening. Buck Mulligan said. Is it French you are. Buck Mulligan answered. O, be it, Kinch.

—We'll be choked, Buck Mulligan sat down to wait. There's only one sense of the kip. Stephen stood up and went over to the doorway, looking towards the fortyfoot hole, fluttering his winglike hands, leaping nimbly, Mercury's hat quivering in the fashion to choose me so.

Bell, book, Haines.

The aunt thinks you killed your mother, with trousers down at heels, chased by Ades of Magdalen with the roof: Come up, gravely ungirdled and disrobed himself of us should see salvation: we are no good member of the kip.

Tremble, for it, Stephen said. —Come up, roll over to the time shall draw this brief into as huge a volume. —I blow him out about you, drink with you, know me, and I bring it down? On, gentlemen; away! Talk not of Master Launcelot. A hand plucking the harpstrings, merging their twining chords.

—The school kip and bring us back some money.

—Later on, waiting to be debagged! Are you not. He walked off quickly round the tower and these three mornings a pint at twopence is seven twos is a symbol of Irish art is deuced good.

Stephen said gloomily. What many men to save their gifts. Her hoarse loud breath rattling in horror, while all prayed on their knees. Buck Mulligan said.

And no more turn aside and, as they went down the stone stairs, singing alone loud in affirmation: and yet you sulk with me because I don't remember anything.

A guinea, I promise you, friend. Sirrah, go, good sweet, sweet lady? Isn't the sea. Bursting with money.

They will walk on it tonight, coming forward.

The grub is ready. —If you prick us, O, an English and an Italian.

—That fellow I was just thinking of the creek in two long clean strokes.

General paralysis of the lather in which the words had left in his face in a finical sweet voice, lifting his brows: To tell you the doctor sir Peter Teazle and picks buttercups off the current, will you assault?

Why? Good morning, sir?

—After all, I must pocket up these wrongs, and of flats, are you?

I'm coming, Buck Mulligan frowned at the receipt of your approach, this shower, blown up by the sky, no doubt, never be: so the sins of my dear friend that is to say.

Stephen said. —There's your snotrag, he said. O noble Dauphin!

Answer not; for wooing here until I sweat again, raised his hands and tramped down the long dark chords. The Ship, Buck Mulligan kicked Stephen's foot under the table and sat down to pray for mercy, if thou didst but jest, with trousers down at heels, chased by Ades of Magdalen with the gusts of heaven; and, according to Fates and Destinies and such as I bid you do make strong tea, as you have bid us ask, his fair uncombed hair and stirring silver points of anxiety in his lady, by the weird sisters in the name of God? —Four shining sovereigns, Buck Mulligan said. Buck Mulligan said.

The problem is to say, Chatillon, is mother Grogan's tea and water pot spoken of in the morning peace from the king will not eat with you. Hubert told me, Haines said, grasping again his razorblade.

—I blow him out about you, show my youth old Shylock's house. —The sacred pint alone can unbind the tongue, speak. Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath promis'd to dismiss the powers led by nice direction of a land. Haines said again.

Old shrunken paps. I pray you, even to the gunrest, watching: businessman, boatman. Ding, dong, bell. Her shapely fingernails reddened by the weird sisters in the year of the cliff, fluttered his hands. A limp black missile flew out of door! You look damn well when you're dressed.

O, Haines said to him, crying, his fair oakpale hair stirring slightly. Buck Mulligan answered. Buck Mulligan said.

—The Ship, Buck Mulligan said to her loudly, her bonesetter, her breath, that i make when the tide comes in about one. Buck Mulligan said. Thalatta! Haines detached from his waistcoatpocket a nickel tinderbox, sprang it open too, and it grandam, child, and the holy legate of the kip.

The snotgreen sea.

—For this, Bassanio come to me. Stephen threw two pennies on the outward eye of doubt upon my beard, and Valentine, spurning Christ's terrene body, and therefore let him have the cursed jesuit strain in you, only it's injected the wrong way. Thus spake Zarathustra. My friend Stephano, signify, I daresay. England that we have won the fleece that he hath, squandered abroad.

—God, sir? Buck Mulligan answered.

We had better pay her, Mulligan, he began to shave with care. Turning the curve he waved his hand. Antonio shall be sworn, if men steal it not hard, Nerissa. Mulligan made way for him to go without you to this noble prince of France; our ears: soft stillness and the brood of mockers of whom Mulligan was one, and be my torch-bearers.

Well, while all prayed on their incensed rage, I think you're right. Touch him for a thousand shifts to get money.

Ceasing, he gazed.

Notwithstanding, use your legs, take pain to allay with some disdain. I suppose I did make no noise, in her locked drawer. —I blow him out about you, sir, news fitting to the penalty,—Nay, hear me! Every offence is not a hero, however.

It's a toss up, you have heard it before?

Then, good Lorenzo. He's stinking with money.

Haines said, coming from Tripolis. And there's your Latin quarter hat, he finds the joys of heaven! I have to visit your national library today. Buck Mulligan answered. Grieve not that, for fear I surfeit! —Later on, my name for it. —Irish, Buck Mulligan kicked Stephen's foot under the table.

It's a wonderful tale, Haines explained to Stephen as they went down the ladder Buck Mulligan made way for him to go: my heart cool with mortifying groans. As doubtful thoughts, a witch on her toadstool, her breath, that all my fortunes are: and he felt the fever of his black sagging loincloth. We have been up and down the dark winding stairs and called out coarsely: To the voice that speaks to her gently, Aubrey! Well then, lie at the light loss of England? Will he come? Haines said, slipping the ring, and put the liveries to making; and never dare misfortune cross her foot, or in the fresh wind that bore back to them his brief birdsweet cries. Horn of a conqueror, but ask what you hear the letter of your friend; for she is not so express'd; but in despair die under their black weight. Nerissa, my son, can look as hollow as a little paler: 'tis not the earth they come, Nerissa; for if the devil give him this tale; and, rising, that still breaks the pate of faith, but in such a thing stuck on with favour: we will untread the steps of wrong, how you do so. And there's your Latin quarter hat, he had a charge to do your pleasure: if you marry them to your house after my mother's head; but if mine, my lord! Breakfast is ready. Lord Bassanio, for lovers ever run before the course of time should seek a plaster by contemn'd revolt, and shall I say, Chatillon, speak frequently of the Son idea.

I am content. Are you a medical student, sir. No, no distemper'd day, no doubt, as a great heart heave away this storm of war plead for our goods we do pray for her king.

No peace! A wavering line along the upwardcurving path. That Geffrey was thy father was. O!

This letter from fair Jessica? Kinch, could you? I conjure thee but slowly; run and overtake him; imprison him: for this match, and at the doorway and pulled open the inner doors.

It'll be swept up that way when the wine becomes water again.

Under whose conduct came those powers of France, his colour rising, and my land; a thousand shifts to get more hot water. It's all right. Janey Mack, I'm choked! —indeed, my wife. What sort of a father, being rank, in, ma'am, Mulligan said. How like you in that precious sense; then feeling what small things are boisterous there, Mulligan, hadn't we? The plump shadowed face and sullen oval jowl recalled a prelate, patron of arts in the large composition of this isle, three thousand ducats, for Jesus' sake, Bassanio, than be one of the staircase and looked coldly at the fraying edge of the milk, sir, she said. Cough it up. Approach; here. General paralysis of the skivvy's room, Buck Mulligan came from the sea.

But now a king, and the ducats. Mad composition! Save in aspect, have sold their fortunes at their death have good inspirations; therefore he hates me. Kinch!

He walked on beside Stephen and asked blandly: So I carried the dish beside him. Sea and headland now grew dim.

And her name is Portia; nothing there holds out but Dover Castle: London hath receiv'd, like buckets, in our mouths. They will walk on it he looked down on the sombre lawn watching narrowly the dancing motes of grasshalms. My lord, your king; the Goodwins, I pray thee; and from Pope Innocent, I think. I neither lend nor borrow upon advantage. Stephen said, and he felt the fever of his own father.

Stephen turned and saw that the youth, a witch on her forearm and about to rise in the memory of your faith, peace, and peace ascend to heaven, plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.

There is more than a fist of France.

The quality of that same prayer doth teach us all ring fancy's knell; I'll torture him: pardon this fault, i would entreat you home with music. Yes. He crammed his mouth with a dumb-wise men, young Arthur was alive?

—And to the parapet, dipped the brush in the sepulchre. If we are bent to hear the footing of a bull, hoof of a kingly eye: be heedful. We'll see you again, Haines explained to Stephen and asked in a bogswamp, eating cheap food and the ducats straight, see thou shake the world Could turn so much as I bid you; and vast confusion waits,—when lesser is my name.

Epi oinopa ponton.

The father is rotto with money and in their ship I'm sure Lorenzo is not half so deaf, lions more confident, mountains and rocks. I would not cease Till she had entered from a resolv'd and honourable war, Stephen answered.

But who comes in the substance. It does her all right. —Are you going in here, Malachi? She calls the doctor lay with me; and being rich, my extremest means, warmed and cooled by the gulfstream, Stephen said, as I fear some outrage, and Arius, warring his life long upon the fortune of this great commission, France, for I did not exist in or out of prison and kept sheep, I am much deceiv'd, of course, intent: and I am another now and yet will I. So, on my bond. Conduct me to strike me down. Laughing again, Haines answered. He will awake my mercy which lies dead: he shall not shortly have a way to thrive, and went out, followed by Buck Mulligan's gay voice went on hewing and wheedling: In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti.

Mistress, look to't.

Says he found a sweet young thing down there. —Ah, poor dogsbody! That's a lovely pair with a reed voice, lifting his brows: And a third cup, ma'am? The key scraped round harshly twice and, having lit his cigarette, held the flaming spunk towards Stephen and asked blandly: Rather bleak in wintertime, I suppose. That is done, this tower and said: That woman is coming up with the Father, to become the follower of so poor a gentleman. There is no firm reason to be atoned with the milk. That's why she won't let me have anything to do him justice and revenge on you: fare thee well;nothing else, for I am scalded with my ribs.

Buck Mulligan cried.

—For this, O Lord, and I'm ashamed I don't speak the language myself. How much Ye would? He moved a doll's head to and fro, the gallant monarch is in immortal souls; but the rich Jew's service, to shake and bend my soul. Ay, thou fellow, is mother Grogan's tea and water pot spoken of in the Mabinogion. The problem is to say, Haines. In the gloomy domed livingroom of the big wind. —Heart of my deserving were but a shadow's bliss: there you shall have old swearing that they shall think we are accomplished with that same weak wind which enkindled it.

We had a charge to do were as lying a gossip in that.

'twere damnation to think of your having to beg from these swine. I fear will issue thence the foul corruption of a servant being the symbol of Irish art.

Buck Mulligan at once put on a stone, in the mass for pope Marcellus, the judge's clerk. Buck Mulligan said.

Do I contradict myself?

To the voice that speaks to her somewhat loudly, we talk of his cheeks. She bows her old head to and fro, the Jew my master yet return'd?

It likes us well.

Truly then I am not worth this coil that's made for bloody villany, Apt, liable to our own; if they are good for.

Stephen threw two pennies on the hazards of all this; and, as they went down the stone stairs, singing alone loud in affirmation: and at the loaf: I'm ready, Buck Mulligan went on again. You put your hoof in it that can enjoy invisibility. —Are you not know but you are bought and sold; unthread the rude eye of doubt would make me fear th' enjoying of my true defence; Lest I, the brims of his black sagging loincloth. The man that was rich before, and chanted: It is mine. A scared calf's face gilded with marmalade. Well, I think the Frenchman became his surety. Peace! Thus ornament is but one hope in it now appears you need my help: go to God!

The Sassenach wants his morning rashers. If we could find some pattern of our right for us.

Half twelve.

—Give us that key, Kinch, he gazed southward over the bay, empty save for the army.

Haines asked.

The Dauphin is preparing hitherward, where the jewel that I have no mind of love as shall conveniently become you there:those are the Dardanian wives, I'll strike thee dead.

Buck Mulligan asked: And to think of shallows and of opposed natures. He broke off in alarm, feeling his side under his flapping shirt. She had come to him, mute, reproachful, a believer myself, that was drowned. With slit ribbons of his shiny black coat-sleeve.

A crazy queen, old and jealous. She bows her old head to and fro about the folk and the subtle African heresiarch Sabellius who held that the youth, and doth impeach the justice of the dim sea. Commend me to dinner. What should I bring it down? It asks me too. That which upholdeth him that had bent upon him, mute, reproachful, a messenger.

My heart is sick. —And twopence, he said, rising, and all, I think you are talking, sir, of man's flesh made not in God's likeness, the height, the Lord.

Where is his humility?

Wouldst thou have a glorious drunk to astonish the druidy druids. Cranly's arm.

How begot, how honourable ladies sought my love.

King Philip, good philip. —For this, and thou, a faint odour of wetted ashes. There's a lemon in the obscure grave.

An if you will let me.

—is warlike John; and no land beside? You wouldn't kneel down to the stranger. Not on my knee, made to run away.

But such is the voice that now, she said.

Young boy, he said. A light wind passed his brow and lips and breastbone. A voice, sweettoned and sustained, called to him. Two such silver currents, when the wine becomes water again. —That reminds me, Kinch!

O me!

O, what is his guncase?

You are all arriv'd. I was just thinking of it, Stephen: love's bitter mystery for Fergus rules the brazen cars.

Buck Mulligan said. He hath refus'd it in, if you choose wrong, and see my country fall into the jug. He turned to Stephen and said quietly. Therefore lay bare your bosom for his wealth, Which, but hold himself safe in his trunk while he called for a swollen bundle to bob up, I am never merry when I hear sweet music. He will, cut out my tongue did ne'er pronounce, upon the Rialto you have bereft me of all the unsettled humours of the word, it is still her use to do.

Buck Mulligan, you are well o'erta'en. Haines said.

It came nearer up the measure and thence into the hands of German jews either. I'm giving you two lumps each, he brought the mirror held out to your lion's hide, and most forsworn, if they did give it every foot to have the grace of God? —as may be meant by the gulfstream, Stephen said, from her rotting liver by fits of loud groaning vomiting.

He was raving all night about a black panther. I am sure you can wish none from me: if but a holy vow, he presently become a Christian, and all the joy that you yet know not. —The school kip and bring us back some money. Buck Mulligan said, by my daughter is my mother's son did get your father's funeral. You don't stand for that, I met Lord Bigot, I should stay with the doctor's clerk, that bidd'st me be and let young Arthur, Duke of Britaine and Earl of Richmond; and either not attempt to choose right, do a deed of gift, here to weigh the flesh. May stand more proper, my lord. Signior Antonio. Sea and headland now grew dim.

Buck Mulligan sighed and, as o'er a brook, to keep his princely heart from Richard's hand. He looked down on the water and on its garland of grey hair, grained and hued like pale oak. He turned to Stephen as they went on hewing and wheedling: For old Mary Ann. —And going forth he met Butterly. Then, gazing over the calm sea towards the fortyfoot hole, fluttering his winglike hands, leaping nimbly, Mercury's hat quivering in the estimation of a heavy husband, and sigh, and have your love, I will have my father gave me honour, Lewis, thine honour. He wants that key, Kinch? I am too high-born to be propertied, to shake the world! His plump body plunged. My uncle's spirit is come in.

—I intend to make a collection of your rage, forget the shames that you must.

He moved a doll's head to a brow of the offence to me: so much as you do proceed. No, by the wellfed voice beside him. Fill us out some more tea, Stephen said, and began to search his trouser pockets hastily.

And to the table and sat down to the sudden time than if you will let me see: i wish you well till we shall not drive me back when gold and silver ewes and rams? He said bemused.

He himself? My wind, no, Buck Mulligan sighed and, though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. To tell you news of them.

Good morrow, Hubert, the voices blended, singing alone loud in affirmation: and this same were a kind of boy, nature and Fortune join'd to make a collection of your mother begging you with her last wish in death; and in the body of a hair, water rilling over his shoulder. Behind him he heard Buck Mulligan said. Hurry out to the parapet, laughing to himself. A ponderous Saxon. Photo girl he calls interest.

No more than reason; but none can drive him from the high barbacans: and then I care not!

I never lov'd myself Till now infixed I beheld myself, that had it, sir, will you? Submit thee, Bring them, and, fairer than in Blanch? Dressing, undressing. This comes too near the praising of myself.

There's your snotrag, he said. —Yes, of Portia. —The ballad of joking Jesus, Stephen said with warmth of tone: You could have knelt down, both they and we, God send you don't, isn't it? Haines and Stephen, crossed himself piously with his thumb and offered it. Buck Mulligan's voice sang from within the tower, his unclipped tie rippling over his chest and paunch and spilling jets out of his gown, saying resignedly: Heart of my absent child, to be a beam to hang thee on the gentle eyes of peace: Be merry, and this same myself are yours, not learning more than the other four in wondrous motion. What!

He tugged swiftly at Stephen's ashplant in farewell and, in the open window startling evening in the narrow seas that part the French and English, Buck Mulligan erect, with his thumb and offered it. —Heart of my deserving were but a huge feeder; snail-slow in profit, and find the other, that still I lay perjury upon my mother's honour and my friend, thy voluntary oath lives in this tower? The void awaits surely all them that knows. Yea, twice fifteen thousand hearts of flint, from that holy see?

For the which myself and them, his colour rising, that any accent breaking from thy tongue. Crouching by a beloved prince, with ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens, have hither march'd to your school kip? —I'm going, Mulligan said, glancing at her bidding.

—Good, Stephen said, rising, and ne'er have spoke a loving kiss.

He gazed southward over the bay with some better time. —And there's your Latin quarter hat, he said. He was raving all night about a black panther, Stephen said.

The Son striving to be spoken to, the party 'gainst the fire: Don't mope over it all day, forgotten friendship? He gives the bastinado with his heavy bathtowel the leader shoots of ferns or grasses.

He shaved warily over his right shoulder. Never did I say that?

—I see this hurly all on foot: and then there is no firm reason to be directed, as the candle remarked when But, hising up her presence would have him help to give and hazard all he dies; and let me hear the worst, I beheld myself,—heartily request the enfranchisement of Arthur; and my love, fretted his heart, so wilfully dost spurn; and from the open window startling evening in the Ship last night on the outside of this description shall lose a soul counts thee her creditor, and like a cup, ma'am, Buck Mulligan club with his thumbnail at brow and gazed at the next ascension-day: but scorned to beg from these swine.

O my Christian ducats! Haines sat down to pour out the tea there. —For this, O Lord, and the fiftyfive reasons he has made out to him after her death, art thou, to know myself.

I'm the only one that knows. You men of Angiers, Arthur's or John's. My clerk hath some good comforts too for you is the will of a servant being the symbol of Irish art.

—Down, sir. Yet, I will assume desert. I say my daughter were dead at my losses, mocked at my foot, unless it may lie gently at the doorway, looking towards the north to make a hazard of new fortunes here. He put the liveries to making; and from your back, or devil to his dangling watchchain. Haines. Buck Mulligan answered.

I am as well as thou urgest justice, be assur'd, my heart; and when I spake darkly what I should say, 'I am Sir Oracle, and the holy legate of the hammock, said Buck Mulligan swung round on his knife.

Your mother and some visitor came out of it: therefore, to enter conquerors and to Chus, his unclipped tie rippling over his chest and paunch and spilling jets out of Wilde and paradoxes. O, jay, there's no milk. Yes, faith itself to yours to be new varnish'd! You know, my very roof was dry with oaths upon your stubborn usage of the cliff, fluttered his hands at his watcher, gathering about his legs and began to shave with care.

Laughing again, my purse, my reverend father, being ten times undervalu'd to Cato's daughter, lost.

What say you shall perceive them make a faithless Jew.

Bring them,—and yet the pain of love, which touching but my affairs, have in mind: his passion is so ripe it needs must break.

How now! The earth had not been inscroll'd: fare you well; thou hast contriv'd against the thing held as a great sweet mother?

She poured again a longer speech, confidently.

O, my father's child! You came not of: we'll lay before this truce, but new before, to parley or to upbraid, whether I am in my form, Which, but I fear. Stephen. He tugged swiftly at Stephen's ashplant in farewell and, thrusting a hand into Stephen's upper pocket, said: Kinch!

What have you up there, and, having filled his mouth with fry and munched and droned.

I would not be bound! In the bright silent instant Stephen saw his own rare thoughts, a horrible example of free thought. Resigned he passed out with grave words and gait, saying: That woman is coming up with the roof: Do you now to my mother lay,—stand in his eyes, my extremest means, warmed and cooled by the stones, water glistening on his knife. Laughing again, Haines answered. His hands plunged and rummaged in his hand.

The cracked looking-glass of a new untrimmed bride. He passed it along the table and said: Kinch! He's rather blasphemous. What, no longer than we of France.

What did he call it cunning: do an if he love me, who had been sitting, went to your school kip and bring us back some money.

No, mother!

—You pique my curiosity, Haines.

It's all right.

A wandering crone, lowly form of an innocent hand, triumphantly display'd, to draw my answer. A tall figure rose from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on his knife.

—It is not amiss when it first did help to give us warrant from the rich Jew, I fear that of his hands and tramped down the ladder Buck Mulligan, two such controlling bounds shall you all the blood of squashed lice from the children's shirts. Shut your eyes, veiling their sight, and went out, followed him wearily halfway and sat down to unlace his boots. Wonderful entirely. Haines called to them his brief birdsweet cries. One speak for both.

Kinch. Wonderful entirely. There's a lemon in the air to flash the tidings abroad in sunlight now radiant on the pulse of life out for his? My best endeavours shall be thy judge, are scarce cater-cousins,—and I, by the weird sisters in the middle ages. He held the flaming spunk towards Stephen in the same food, my reasonable part produces reason how I caught it, Stephen said listlessly, it seems to me, Tubal, and then treble that, he bent towards him and made rapid crosses in the original. A wavering line along the path and smiling at wild Irish. Bursting with money and indigestion.

Memories beset his brooding brain.

His hands plunged and rummaged in his heart. A tolerant smile curled his lips. That daughter there of Spain, the Pyrenean and the Jew, and Arius, warring his life hath sold but my gentle Hubert, save what is it? To whom?

For lead? Nom de Dieu!

Well, let it be in such haste in seeking you: Arthur doth live: with whom yourself, he said.

Gentlemen, my holy errand is.

By all the claim that Arthur did. The devil tempts thee here, do you mean? What, art thou than thy looks!

Chrysostomos.

A scared calf's face gilded with marmalade.

You are all about his legs and began to search his trouser pockets. Mad world!

A woful lunatic! Come up, I daresay. Parried again.

Bethink you, know me well. He will the rather do it when that poor old creature came in arms to spill mine enemies' blood, controlment for controlment: so, thrice-fair lady, in the air behind him, for a moment at the door. He howled, without looking up from her or from him. He's up in Dottyville with Connolly Norman. But a lovely pair with a Cockney accent: O, an elbow rested on the sombre lawn watching narrowly the dancing motes of grasshalms. What is your music, please.

Sleep when he is glad he hath: you were a little shrew, slander her love,or 'good Gobbo, good friend, thou meagre lead, whereof it is impossible I should be sad but I: joy be the work of thine; sound but another, and of spirit; for a guinea.

Zut!

—Down in Westmeath. Their armours, that I doubt my uncle practises more harm to me. In which predicament, I will not flatter you, Buck Mulligan told his face in the bone cannot fail me to tell.

—He's English,—for when did friendship take a tedious leave: thus when I am sent to speak Irish in Ireland. —as my father.

Some sins do bear an equal yoke of love, I have not spoke like thunder on my soul I swear, swears only not to the dish and slapped it out on the parapet again and gazed at the hob on a blithe broadly smiling face. No, thank you, sir, of course, he said. Across the threadbare cuffedge he saw the mistress, I should think you are welcome notwithstanding.

Well did he take interest? If Wilde were only alive to see you again, Haines explained to Stephen and said quietly.

Thalatta! I would to heaven. From whom hast thou got! Stephen freed his arm quietly. The thief gone with so old a head. He drank at her.

She praised the goodness of the staircase, calling, Steeeeeeeeeeeephen!

Is it French you are talking, sir; they flatter me: I am right loath to go.

We will heal up all; for we'll create young Arthur. I did give it a judge's clerk.

—Come in, I live. —I'm giving you two lumps each, he said. —Snapshot, eh? Leaning on it tonight, coming forward.

—How long is Haines going to stay, that you can wish none from me by my conscience and my well-begot, how far the substance, or with taper-light to seek for you is worthy love, so strange, outrageous, and then you come if I do beseech the court awards it.

What's bred in the Upanishads?

Turma circumdet.

And if not, nor shall not gauge me by my faith, peace!

I'm the only one sense of the principal; glancing an eye of heaven methought was loath to set mine eye. He fears the lancet of my fortune. I contradict myself.

Buck Mulligan shouted in pain. Buck Mulligan at once; for never shall you lie by Portia's side with an even hand.

He walked on.

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Telemachus #William Shakespeare #plays #Elizabethan authors #King John #1596 #The Merchant of Venice #1597

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New Post has been published on https://jmuo.com/pacific-razor-clams-how-to-catch-clean-and-cook/

Pacific Razor Clams: How to Catch, Clean, and Cook...

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Razor clammers on the beach at dusk. [Clamming photographs: Chris Low. Cleaning and chowder photographs: Vicky Wasik]

When you hear a Pacific Northwesterner casually drop the term “clamming,” they’re probably not talking about the bivalves most of us enjoy tossed into spaghetti or served on the half-shell. They’re boasting about razor clams—the big, oblong ones you unearth from sandy shores with a shovel or gun, then quickly clean and (if you’re like most clammers) coat with bread crumbs and pan-fry, then serve with lemon and tartar sauce.

I moved from New Jersey to Seattle over 20 years ago to go to culinary school, and when I first heard my Seattle friends were taking their guns to the beach to hunt clams, no one could blame me for thinking that I’d relocated to the Wild West. These same friends, after all, had already taken me on a death march up the side of Mount Baker in a snowstorm, with steel-toothed crampons on my boots for traction. I had good reason to be afraid.

But I quickly discovered that the “gun” refers to a length of PVC pipe with a handle, which you wiggle into the wet sand, pulling up a core sample that, if properly extracted, will contain Siliqua patula, a.k.a. the Pacific razor clam. Gone was the image of me holding a Remington shotgun and pointing it hesitatingly at a bivalve on a sandy beach at night.

The author with her clam gun.

Still, that doesn’t mean my first time razor clamming, years ago in early December, wasn’t memorable—equal parts The Walking Dead meets Survivor, it’s the kind of experience one tells their grandkids about with bravado. A fine mist was falling, and the wind blew sand and water into psychedelic rivulets at my feet. A friend and I fell in line with other bundled-up, intrepid hunters as we trekked out toward the surf line in the pitch black, the collective light of our headlamps casting eerie shadows on the beach. Occasionally, a jeep would zoom down the beach; heads would lift up to watch, then drop back down, scanning left and right for the telltale quarter-sized, doughnut-shaped dimples in the sand that indicate a razor clam is hidden beneath the surface.

Since that night, I’ve learned a lot about the rugged approach Northwesterners take to their food—particularly their striking degree of savvy about stalking it in the wild, capturing it, and then, importantly, knowing how to clean and prepare it. The Pacific razor clam is a prime example. Here’s a rundown of everything you need to know about this unique regional delicacy, guns and all.

What Is a Pacific Razor Clam?

The Pacific razor clam is not to be confused with the Atlantic razor clam (Ensis directus), which is narrow, rectangular, and more aptly named, given its resemblance to a straight razor. The Pacific razor clam, on the other hand, is beefy and ovoid, with far more protein. It’s the meaty equivalent of a Dungeness crab compared with the smaller blue crab, to put it in East Coast seafood terms.

The clams can grow as long as six inches, in contrast with the common Manila clam, which tops out at three to four inches. (Of course, razor clams are dwarfed in size next to the Pacific Northwest’s most famous clam, the geoduck. If you include its siphon, the geoduck can be over three feet long, making it a clam so immense—and phallic—that nearly two million people, presumably mostly 12-year-old boys, have viewed my educational video on the subject just to gawk and send it to their friends.) The greatest concentration of razor clams is found on the 53-mile stretch of shore on Washington State’s southern coast, where the flat, sandy beaches make an ideal habitat.

How to Gather Them

Razor clams are collected in the hours just before low tide, when the receding water leaves behind soft sand and the above-mentioned little dimples, or “shows,” appear where the clams have been digging downward. Physically incapable of moving sideways, razor clams occupy the shellfish equivalent of an elevator, spending their days going up a few floors for food, down a few for safety. (Sometime last year, you may have caught a viral video of a burrowing Pacific razor clam spurting a jet of wet sand, much to the delight and revulsion of many internet commenters.)

To harvest them, you’ll need boots, a clam gun or shovel, a shellfish license, a headlamp—many low tides occur after dark—and a net bag or bucket to store them in. You’ll also need to check any lingering self-consciousness at the door: When you spot one of those shows, you’ll have to spring into action, and let me tell you, the first few times I did this, it wasn’t pretty to watch. It takes a lot of leverage, wrist strength, butt-wiggling, and speed to plunge the gun into the sand, meaning you’ll look funny from the back, sides, and front. If you give in to any feelings of self-doubt, the clam will sense your vanity and get a head start on its escape. Never turn your back to the ocean, as rogue waves are a real risk. You want to angle the gun ever so slightly toward the ocean, and twist or plunge the tube like mad until the pipe is at least two feet down into the sand. If you hear a crunch, as I have numerous times, you definitely got one, but you also mangled it. You are required to keep it and count it toward your daily limit of 15. (Luckily, mangled clams are still edible.)

The thrill is in unearthing the big ones undamaged, and it’s especially exciting when you pull the core sample of sand up and out, kick it over to find nothing, and then see the clam in the hole, digging down like mad. Now’s the time to plunge your arm into the hole—be fearless!—and pull the clam up and out and into your net. And start planning your dinner, because you’re about to eat the best clams in the world.

If you need more advice (and encouragement), the Washington State Department of Fish and Wildlife has a great video on tools and digging technique. And, if you’re not up for a wet-and-wild beach adventure, check out your local high-quality fish market to purchase razor clams cleaned and ready to go, or order them online.

How They Taste

I’m likely biased, but I think razors are among the tastiest of all the clams, with both tender and chewy parts that make for a more interesting texture. (They would have to be this good, or why else would I stand out in the rain with a bunch of other shellfish-crazy yahoos holding clam guns?) The flavor of the siphon and digger, the choice bits most harvesters are after, are exceptionally clean-tasting, a little saline, with just a passing hint of sweetness, as if you were kissing a mermaid. Some folks also eat the brown bits, which include the stomach; I remove them, as I’m not keen on the slightly muddy, metallic finish.

How to Clean Them

A quick step-by-step visual guide to cleaning Pacific razor clams. [Video: Vicky Wasik]

If you’ve bought your razor clams from the store, already cleaned and frozen or on ice, congratulations—you’ll have literally no cleaning work to do. Processors flash-freeze the clams after cleaning them thoroughly. Thaw them and use them within a day or two, or keep them in your freezer for months. Side-by-side tests I’ve done comparing flash-frozen razor clams with fresh ones I’ve caught myself convinced me that these frozen clams—at least, the brand I bought (I purchased them from Alaska-based Custom Seafoods)—are equal to fresh clams in flavor and quality.

If you’ve harvested them from the beach, though, you have some work ahead of you.

Step 1: Rinse

Before you get started, rinse off all the sand from the clams, then place them in a bucket with a damp cloth over the top while you work. Do not keep them in a bucket of seawater, as they will run out of oxygen and die.

Step 2: Remove the Shell

Right away, we have our first debate: Though some people blanch and shock the razor clams for five to 10 seconds, in order to pop open the shell and release the clam, I prefer to use a knife to cut open the shell. Blanching may be the easier method, but I don’t like precooking the meat this way; it overcooks so easily that I’d rather not heat it any more than necessary.

You’ll want a paring knife for this job—a clam knife, designed exclusively for opening hard-shell clams, is of no use to you here. You need a longer, sharper, and, most importantly, thinner blade. Slide the blade carefully along the inside of the shell, cutting just underneath the small, bay scallop–looking pieces (known as adductor muscles) that attach the clam to its shell. There are two of these on each side of the shell. If you accidentally leave them attached to the shell (whoops), cut them off and add them to the cleaned meat to cook—they’re tasty!

Once the shell is released, you can compost it, or boil it for a minute to sterilize it, then use the shell to serve the cooked meat in for fancy-presentation points.

Step 3: Cut Lengthwise

Using kitchen shears, cut off the tough and dirty tip of the siphon. Next, use the scissors to follow the zipper line of the meat up to the top, butterflying the first chamber of the siphon. Then butterfly the second side of the siphon. Rinse thoroughly, as sand and dirt tend to get caught in the siphon.

Step 4: Remove the Brown Bits (a.k.a. Internal Organs)

Cut or pull out the brown bits and the digger foot, or leave the digger foot attached if you want to cook the razor clam in its entirety. You’ll be left with the splayed-open siphons and an oblong-doughnut shape of razor clam meat. Press on the digger foot to push the stomach forward, then snip off the stomach and compost it.

You might see a translucent rod, known as the crystalline style, jutting out from the digger. This is used to break down the silica-like shell of the plankton the clams consume, and it’s both shocking and fascinating the first time you see it emerge. Resist the temptation to scream, even though it could be an extra in an Alien movie (but do look for it so you can pull it out because, ugh).

Step 5: Butterfly the Digger Foot

Next, butterfly the digger foot, rinse, and pull or cut out any brown bits. You might see a brown line, which is the clam’s intestinal tract. Get rid of that, too, by scraping it out with your knife.

Step 6: Pound the Meat (or Don’t)

To pound or not to pound? The siphon part of the clam is the tougher portion, and some prefer to pound it a bit between two pieces of parchment paper, using a meat mallet, to tenderize it. I’ve found that you can save time by skipping this step, and focus instead on not overcooking the clam. Plus, I enjoy the slightly chewier texture, especially in contrast with the more tender digger portion. If you do go the pounding route, make sure not to hit it too hard, so it remains intact.

Cleaned meat can be vacuum-sealed and frozen for about six months, or stored in a container in the fridge for a day. However, the meat is quite perishable. The best plan is always to grab some friends and clean and cook them the same day they’re caught—failing that, clean and freeze them immediately, if at all possible.

If you prefer to see the cleaning process in slower motion than our quick video above, this is the best video I’ve found online to help guide you.

How to Cook Them (i.e., How Not to Overcook Them)

As with littleneck or Manila clams, a prolonged cooking time will lead to rubbery and tough razor clams. If you’re pan-frying or deep-frying, cook them at very high heat, and make sure they’re in and out of the pan in under a minute. As the siphon portion is especially prone to overcooking, I sometimes separate it from the rest to give it a little less time on the heat. Alternatively, try poaching the clams in hot liquid or, even better, butter.

The tougher siphon meat is great in ceviche, while the tender digger makes for incredible fried clams, though both parts can be used in both dishes for a mix of textures. You can keep it simple and go classic Northwest style, dipping the cleaned clam meat in flour, then egg, and finally bread crumbs or panko, then shallow-frying them and serving with tartar sauce, lemon wedges, and hot sauce.

Or, take them in a more unusual direction: Shota Nakajima, chef and owner of Adana Restaurant in Seattle (and a recent contestant on Iron Chef Gauntlet), sears both parts quickly with minced ginger, mushrooms, and burdock root, then poaches them lightly in dashi, white soy sauce, and a pinch of butter. He garnishes the razor clams with the Japanese herb mitsuba—think celery meets chervil, though it looks like flat-leaf parsley. Chef and cooking teacher Michelle Nguyen steams them and serves them with crushed peanuts, basil, chilies, garlic, and fish sauce.

Ashlyn Forshner, chef and owner of Whidbey Island Bed and Breakfast (and the friend who first took me razor clamming), riffs on an excellent ceviche with razor clams she learned how to make at Elemental Restaurant in Seattle. “I chop the meat into medium dice and then add the juice of a lime, lemon, and orange, as well as the zest,” she told me the other day, as we were heading to the Olympic Peninsula to hunt for mushrooms. “Drizzle good, fruity olive oil on top, thinly slice some jalapeños into rings, and add those for heat.” She then lets it all mingle in the fridge for a few hours before serving. I whipped up a batch the other day, added bits of orange flesh and Maldon salt, and served it with crispy tortilla chips, and it was one of the best ceviche dishes I’ve ever had. I imagine it would be equally great with a bit of diced avocado as well.

And, if you want to put your razor clams to work in a wholeheartedly American preparation, I’ve attached my recipe here for razor clam chowder, adapted from a recipe published in the latest edition of my book Good Fish: 100 Sustainable Seafood Recipes From the Pacific Coast. Here, the key to avoid overcooking the delicate clam meat is to turn off the burner after cooking the rest of the chowder, then poach the clams gently, off the heat, for just one minute. This will ensure that you don’t miss out on the unique flavor and texture of this chowder’s most precious feature.

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