
[0576] off my hat and pressed about my face the long [place = inline] , leafy stalks.
[0577] Then I smelt the earth, the smell of the earth was in the
grass, that my hands wove round my face till I was blinded.
[0578] I ate a little [place = inline] , too. [0579] It came back to my mind, from nowhere,
as a moment before my name [place = supralinear] had, that I had set out to see [place = inline] [/]my
mother, at the beginning of this ending day. [0580] My reasons?
[0581] I had forgotten them. [0582] But I knew what they were, I must have
known what they were, I had only to find them again and I
would sweep, with the clipped wings of necessity, to my mother.
[0583] Ys [place = overwritten] es, it's all easy when you know why, a mere matter of magic.
[0584] Yes, the whole thing is to know what saint to implore, any
fool can implore him.
[0585] For the particulars, if you are interest-
ed in particulars, there is no need to despair, you may knock
upon the right door, in the right way, in the end. [0586] It's for
the whole there seems to be no spell. [0587] Perhaps there is no
whole, before you're dead. [0588] An opiate for the life of the dead,
that there should be easy. [0589] What am I waiting for then, to
exorcise mine?
[0590] It's coming, it's coming. I hear from here
the howl resolving all, even if it is not mine. [0591] Meanwhile,
there's no use knowing you are gone, you are not, you are
writhing yet, the hair is growing, the nails are growing,
the entrails emptying, all the morticians are dead. [0592] Someone
has drawn the blinds, you perhaps. [0593] Not the faintest sound.
[0594] Where are the famous flies? [0595] Yes, there is no denying it,
any longer, it is not you who are dead, but all the others.
[0596] So you get up and go to your mother, who thinks she is alive.
[0597] That's my impression. [0598] But now I'm going to have to get out of
this ditch. [0599] How willingly I would vanish there, sinking
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Molloy © 2016 Samuel Beckett Digital Manuscript Project.
Editors: Magessa O'Reilly, Dirk Van Hulle, Pim Verhulst and Vincent Neyt