kingshipf in the offing, and then have take of that ass of his. Then, may be he may be dispatcht as may be. Say; ’tis sure some wicked shift, that which we devize.
Yet (said they), impute not fault upon our selfs! For we are drawn into such collusians by an whelming mutuel desperation, each conniver among us fearing the next a grain wickeder; therefore aspireth the each of us unto a surpassing wickedness, lest we fall subjek to contempt & sudden abuse by some deeply wicked wacker here in our milieu. Consequentchily, the evil collective multiplieth here uncheckt. ’Tis the sociel maelstrom here that sucketh us all down into madness & oblivien. But, no city be perfek.
And, were any city perfek, who wud to live therein? Certain, none of us.
But there arose a wicked wise man saying, An ye weird devils mince the elder brethren before his eyes, what think ye that the youngest will toward you then—some sudden rush of respect? Or will he not commense to cursing you, and saying, Damns, damns? For are they not his own blood sivlings?
And they answerd and said, Appariently.
And the wicked wise man spake out again and said, Fluttr down to them some artners’ depixiens of great shakes to be had here ’twixt the sheets. Offer them gruel & stewgoose & crock-a-grog. Draw them in to the table, and float them a bolt of banter that romanceth the ears and maketh them to feel renown’d as betters among betters. Lead them to the view that Lyfe widouts excessive drink admitteth no happiness; and see that happiness is found.
After this (saith the wicked wise man), when that they are most happy, then waltz them to the stables wherein their donkies shall be lodging. There kindle the elder brethren against the youngest, saying, See how that his outstanding ass doth outstand your very oan. And cause the elder brethren to despise him for his ass. Say ye unto them concerning their brother’s ass, Zound, yon sweet beast o’ tour, ’tis no mere ass abiding there. ’Tis surely Venus her self gone donkie for that brother of yours, playing the ass for him her favrite mounter, gifting him of the glory glide—while your reeking rotters, conversally, scream for the acid vats of tannerhouse Punjens, that being for them the loftiest of possibol appointments.
And lo (saith the wicked wise man), the two will flush green with bile, and in jealousy will rise against their brother, laying hold of scythes that they will find at hand, essaying to do done his days. Whereupon, ye shall cry merder and betray them away unto hell’s blazing acre, and leapf to defend the pup against these brothars gone to monstors afore his eyes. And the playscythes of the brothers, they will shatter, and the wood will go to filaments in their hands. And ye shall smite the two sad smackers w’ y’ swords, and w’ y’ staves, and w’ y’ granniehammers, and w’ y’ cudgels, yours being of a brand not made for play. And will not the youngest then surge out to you graditudinally, and surrender right up all that ye seek?
And ’omorrow (saith the wicked wise man), his bebattld attackers dasht, we winful and again unbebattld, the beckning highway of sin cleard and stretching on before us again, then into
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bondinage may we shopf him out afar, and reclaim his space here amid the crush. This is how that we work, here in Sodom Magnum. Here, in Soda Ma’nifico. Out here in Our Towne.
And the sinnyrs cried aye, saying, ’Tis a solid proper design, fit for the highboard in Sodom Univers’ty, where it oughts be teacht. For the youngest brother will be stricken incredulis as the fray commense, a priceless expressien claiming his countenance. And seeing the ogres smit, he will reel & wobbol, half outen his mind, saying such idiocies as this, Alaxadaisy, I alone am now become the three brothers, my self. And by & by, as he settleth again into realidy, he will confess unto us right thus: O ye, who have reacht & deliverd me from a sinistre brotherly flux that I wist not: mine ass, my pack, my very life is yours to storm.
Yea (said the sinnors), ’tis well and bad. Lead us to it, let us do it.
And they scrambld and lookt o’er the wall, and pourd down syrup in their voices, saying, Ye there, O ye venturers! The Bitch of It’ly is waggoling tail, that ye sojournics be let in. ’Tis a tailsign from our shadowgods who operate through The Bitch, which our idolatorial craftsmen have builded for us. Whatsoe’er be right by The Bitch, the same unto us is law. Venturicists, enter now in the Gate of Entries and take the works.
O travelogues (sang they)! Have ye heard? The city is thine.
But behold, tho swiveld they their necks to the utmo degree, neither saw they there the Brothers; for the Brothers were departed, saying, We oughts have heard something, by now. Neither came they ever again unto Sodom-Over-Edge.
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