From fdaec98c94308f88fc5dbd41b2292de8e013cf5b Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Ronan Crowley Date: Sat, 21 Oct 2017 18:51:50 +0200 Subject: [PATCH] Telemachiad episodes per #31 --- u01_telemachus.xml | 14 +++++++------- u02_nestor.xml | 28 ++++++++++++++-------------- u03_proteus.xml | 6 +++--- 3 files changed, 24 insertions(+), 24 deletions(-) diff --git a/u01_telemachus.xml b/u01_telemachus.xml index 0e54b56..6eeb3a3 100755 --- a/u01_telemachus.xml +++ b/u01_telemachus.xml @@ -259,11 +259,11 @@ sunny window of her house when she was a girl. She heard old Royce sing in the pantomime of Turko the Terrible and laughed with others when he sang:

-

I am the boy -That can enjoy -Invisibility.

+I am the boy +That can enjoy +Invisibility.

Phantasmal mirth, folded away: muskperfumed.

-

And no more turn aside and brood.

+And no more turn aside and brood.

Folded away in the memory of nature with her toys. Memories beset his brooding brain. Her glass of water from the kitchen tap when she had approached the sacrament. A cored apple, filled with brown sugar, roasting @@ -735,9 +735,9 @@ ―The Ship, Buck Mulligan cried. Half twelve. ―Good, Stephen said.

He walked along the upwardcurving path.

-

Liliata rutilantium. -Turma circumdet. -Iubilantium te virginum.

+Liliata rutilantium. +Turma circumdet. +Iubilantium te virginum.

The priest's grey nimbus in a niche where he dressed discreetly. I will not sleep here tonight. Home also I cannot go.

A voice, sweettoned and sustained, called to him from the sea. diff --git a/u02_nestor.xml b/u02_nestor.xml index f2eff39..e75545c 100755 --- a/u02_nestor.xml +++ b/u02_nestor.xml @@ -86,8 +86,8 @@ on mine. It lies upon their eager faces who offered him a coin of the tribute. To Caesar what is Caesar's, to God what is God's. A long look from dark eyes, a riddling sentence to be woven and woven on the church's looms. Ay.

-

Riddle me, riddle me, randy ro. -My father gave me seeds to sow.

+Riddle me, riddle me, randy ro. +My father gave me seeds to sow.

Talbot slid his closed book into his satchel. ―Have I heard all? Stephen asked. ―Yes, sir. Hockey at ten, sir. @@ -100,12 +100,12 @@ ―O, ask me, sir. ―A hard one, sir. ―This is the riddle, Stephen said: -The cock crew, -The sky was blue: -The bells in heaven -Were striking eleven. -'Tis time for this poor soul -To go to heaven. +The cock crew, +The sky was blue: +The bells in heaven +Were striking eleven. +'Tis time for this poor soul +To go to heaven. What is that? ―What, sir? ―Again, sir. We didn't hear.

@@ -282,8 +282,8 @@ ―Alas, Stephen said. ―Per vias rectas, Mr Deasy said firmly, was his motto. He voted for it and put on his topboots to ride to Dublin from the Ards of Down to do so.

-

Lal the ral the ra -The rocky road to Dublin.

+Lal the ral the ra +The rocky road to Dublin.

A gruff squire on horseback with shiny topboots. Soft day, sir John! Soft day, your honour! .... Day! .... Day! .... Two topboots jog dangling on to Dublin. Lal the ral the ra. Lal the ral the raddy. @@ -353,8 +353,8 @@

He stepped swiftly off, his eyes coming to blue life as they passed a broad sunbeam. He faced about and back again. ―Dying, he said again, if not dead by now.

-

The harlot's cry from street to street -Shall weave old England's windingsheet.

+The harlot's cry from street to street +Shall weave old England's windingsheet.

His eyes open wide in vision stared sternly across the sunbeam in which he halted. ―A merchant, Stephen said, is one who buys cheap and sells dear, jew or @@ -395,8 +395,8 @@ Breffni. A woman too brought Parnell low. Many errors, many failures but not the one sin. I am a struggler now at the end of my days. But I will fight for the right till the end.

-

For Ulster will fight -And Ulster will be right.

+For Ulster will fight +And Ulster will be right.

Stephen raised the sheets in his hand. ―Well, sir, he began ..... ―I foresee, Mr Deasy said, that you will not remain here very long at this diff --git a/u03_proteus.xml b/u03_proteus.xml index f703bdc..03c1495 100755 --- a/u03_proteus.xml +++ b/u03_proteus.xml @@ -259,8 +259,8 @@ stout roaring blades. Know that old lay? I taught Patrice that. Old Kilkenny: saint Canice, Strongbow's castle on the Nore. Goes like this. O, O. He takes me, Napper Tandy, by the hand.

-

O, O the boysof -Kilkenny ....

+O, O the boysof +Kilkenny ....

Weak wasting hand on mine. They have forgotten Kevin Egan, not he them. Remembering thee, O Sion.

He had come nearer the edge of the sea and wet sand slapped his @@ -379,7 +379,7 @@ Buss her, wap in rogues' rum lingo, for, O, my dimber wapping dell! A shefiend's whiteness under her rancid rags. Fumbally's lane that night: the tanyard smells.

-White thy fambles, red thy gan +White thy fambles, red thy gan And thy quarrons dainty is. Couch a hogshead with me then. In the darkmans clip and kiss.