Apropos

Rosalind: \AYL\ V.4: Epilogue

It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue;
but it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord
the prologue. If it be true that good wine needs
no bush, 'tis true that a good play needs no
epilogue; yet to good wine they do use good bushes,
and good plays prove the better by the help of good
epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am
neither a good epilogue nor cannot insinuate with
you in the behalf of a good play! I am not
furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not
become me: my way is to conjure you; and I'll begin
with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love
you bear to men, to like as much of this play as
please you: and I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women--as I perceive by your simpering,
none of you hates them--that between you and the
women the play may please. If I were a woman I
would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased
me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I
defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good
beards or good faces or sweet breaths will, for my
beards or good faces or sweet breaths will, for my
kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell.

— Shakespeare —

\Ulysses\ [1920]: Episode 9 – “Scylla and Charybdis”

The pillared Moorish hall, shadows entwined. Gone the nine men's morrice with caps of indices.

In sweetly varying voices Buck Mulligan read his tablet:

Everyman His own Wife or A Honeymoon in the Hand (a national immorality in three orgasms) by Ballocky Mulligan

He turned a happy patch's smirk to Stephen, saying:

-- The disguise, I fear, is thin. But listen.

He read, marcato:

-- Characters:

TOBY TOSTOFF (a ruined Pole)
CRAB (a bushranger)
MEDICAL DICK and (two birds with one stone)
MEDICAL DAVY
MOTHER GROGAN (a watercarrier)
FRESH NELLY
and ROSALIE (the coalquay whore)

He laughed, lolling a to and fro head, walking on, followed by Stephen: and mirthfully he told the shadows, souls of men:

-- O, the night in the Camden hall when the daughters of Erin had to lift their skirts to step over you as you lay in your mulberrycoloured, multicoloured, multitudinous vomit!

-- The most innocent son of Erin, Stephen said, for whom they ever lifted them.

About to pass through the doorway, feeling one behind, he stood aside.

Part. The moment is now. Where then? If Socrates leave his house today, if Judas go forth tonight. Why? That lies in space which I in time must come to, ineluctably.

My will: his will that fronts me. Seas between.

A man passed out between them, bowing, greeting.

-- Good day again, Buck Mulligan said.

The portico.

Here I watched the birds for augury. &Aelig;ngus of the birds. They go, they come. Last night I flew. Easily flew. Men wandered. Street of harlots after. A creamfruit melon he held to me. In. You will see.

-- The wandering jew, Buck Mulligan whispered with clown's awe. Did you see his eye? He looked upon you to lust after you. I fear thee, ancient mariner. O, Kinch, thou art in peril. Get thee a breechpad.

Manner of Oxenford.

Day. Wheelbarrow sun over arch of bridge.

A dark back went before them. Step of a pard, down, out by the gateway, under portcullis barbs.

They followed.

Offend me still. Speak on.

Kind air defined the coigns of houses in Kildare street. No birds. Frail from the housetops two plumes of smoke ascended, pluming, and in a flaw of softness softly were blown.

Cease to strive. Peace of the druid priests of Cymbeline, hierophantic: from wide earth an altar.

Laud we the gods
And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils
From our bless'd altars.

— Joyce —

My self was born XVII: XLII, Dies Lunae, XI.V.MCMLXIV at Latitude: 33-17’40” N Longitude: 083-57’58” W: Jackson is in Butts County, Georgia at an elevation of 705 feet, state of canorous brown thrashers [Toxostoma rufum], chorusing green tree frogs [Hyla cinerea] and invasive Cherokee roses [Rosa laevigata]. Interests include reading/writing, currently working on hodgepodge book: poetry, essays, other [140 p of 207 complete]. Retired, United States Air Force. Divorced. Ephemeris heavily populated by Taurus: Sol, Luna, Mercury, Mars, Jupiter — my son and daughter say — I like old things; classics, I would counter. Interests: formatting documents/tables, classical music *a pattern forms*, Shakespeare, Joyce, Jung: maybe I was born old. Sadly, I have not published anything [well, I have on this blog :)] — more critic than creator, so far. However, English major still tantalized by math.

WebLog commenced to act as space for whatever occurs to me to be aesthetically pleasing that I am able to create for the edification of the so inclined.

Textual Adventures:

Textual Adventures:

[Everything is a Text]

Apropos