from Moabit who could have abused of her, the foxrogues, there | 1 |
might accrue advantage to ask wher in pellmell her deceivers | 2 |
sinned. Yet know it was vastly otherwise which I have heard it | 3 |
by mmummy goods waif, as I, chiefly endmost hartyly aver, for | 4 |
Fulvia Fluvia, iddle woman to the plusneeborn, ever did ensue | 5 |
tillstead the things that pertained unto fairnesse, this wharom I | 6 |
am fawned on, that which was loost. Even so, for I waged love | 7 |
on her: and spoiled her undines. And she wept: O my lors! | 8 |
    | 9 |
    | 10 |
    | 11 |
    | 12 |
    | 13 |
delights, my jealousy, ymashkt, beyashmakt, earswathed, snout- | 14 |
snooded, and did raft her flumingworthily and did leftlead her | 15 |
overland the pace, from lacksleap up to liffsloup, tiding down, as | 16 |
portreeve should, whimpering by Kevin's creek and Hurdlesford | 17 |
and Gardener's Mall, long rivierside drive, embankment large, | 18 |
to Ringsend Flott and Ferry, where she began to bump a little | 19 |
bit, my dart to throw: and there, by wavebrink, on strond of | 20 |
south, with mace to masthigh, taillas Cowhowling, quailless | 21 |
Highjakes, did I upreized my magicianer's puntpole, the tridont | 22 |
sired a tritan stock, farruler, and I bade those polyfizzyboisterous | 23 |
seas to retire with hemselves from os (rookwards, thou seasea | 24 |
stamoror!) and I abridged with domfine norsemanship till I had | 25 |
done abate her maidan race, my baresark bride, and knew her | 26 |
fleshly when with all my bawdy did I her whorship, min | 27 |
bryllupswibe: Heaven, he hallthundered; Heydays, he flung | 28 |
blissforhers. And I cast my tenspan joys on her, arsched over- | 29 |
tupped, from bank of call to echobank, by dint of strongbow | 30 |
(Galata! Galata!) so streng we were in one, malestream in | 31 |
shegulf: and to ringstresse I thumbed her with iern of Erin | 32 |
and tradesmanmarked her lieflang mine for all and singular, iday, | 33 |
igone, imorgans, and for ervigheds: base your peak, you! you, | 34 |
strike your flag!: (what screech of shippings! what low of dampf- | 35 |