Digital Manuscript ProjectMalone meurt / Malone Dies

[1528] Yes, that's what I like about me,
at least one of the things, that I can say,Up the Republic! [place = overwritten] !, for
example, or, Sweetheart! [place = overwritten] !, for example, without having to wonder
if I should not rather have cut my tongue out, or said something
else. Yes, no reflection is needed, before or after, I have only
to open my mouth for it to testify to the old story, my old
story, and to the solg [place = supralinear] long silence that has silenced me, so that
all is silent.
[1529] And if I ever stop a [place = overwritten] t [place = supralinear] talking it will be because
there is nothing to be said, even though all has not been said,
even though ntohing [place = margin left] [ ] [ [place = margin left] tr.] has been said.
[1530] But let us leave these morbid
matters and get on with that of my demise, in two or three days
if I remember rightly.
[1531] Then it will be all over with the Murphys,
Merciers, Molloys, Morans and Malone [place = inline] [⁁] [place = margin left] s[ [place = supralinear] s][ [place = margin left] Malones,], unless it goes on beyond
the grave.
[1532] But sufficient unto the day, let us first defunge,
then we'll see.
[1533] How mant [place = overwritten] y have I killed, hitting them on the head
or setting fire to them?
[1534] Off hand I can only think of four, all
unknowns, I never knew anyone.
[1535] A sudden wish, I have a sudden
wish to see, as sometimes in the old days, something, anything,
no matter what, something I could not have imagined.
[1536] There was
the old boy [place = inline] [⁁] [place = margin left] butler [ [place = supralinear] butler] too, in London I think, there's London again, I
cut his throat with his razor, [1537] that makes five.
[1538] He [place = inline] [⁁] [place = margin left] It[ [place = supralinear] It] seems to me
he had a name.
[1539] Yes, what I need now is a touch of the unimagin-
able, coloured for preference, that would do me good.
[1540] For thid [place = overwritten] s
may well be my last journey, down the long familiar galleries,
with my little suns and moons that I hang aloft and my pockets
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Malone meurt / Malone Dies © 2017 Samuel Beckett Digital Manuscript Project.
Editors: Dirk Van Hulle, Pim Verhulst and Vincent Neyt