"band your hands going in, bind your heads coming out"

(331.14-333.18)  Yesterday's reading seemed a bit "easier" than average, so it's par for the course that today's reading was tougher than usual.  The rest of page 331 and the whole of page 332 are particularly tough, wrapping up (at least for now, it seems) the tale of the Norwegian Captain.  The passage begins with a wide, panoramic view of the Irish landscape ("from your tarns, thwaites and thorpes, withes, tofts and fosses, fells, haughs and shaws, lunds garths and dales") and then focuses in on the mythical Captain/Tina-HCE/ALP couple:  "trader arm aslung beauty belt, the formor velican and nana karlikeevna, sommerlad and cinderenda, Valtivar and Viv."  The narrator (whoever the narrator is here) speaks of the captain's initial attraction to her and shifts into a hint of his coming fall, comparing this attraction to the way "the last liar in the earth begeylywayled the first lady of the forest."

McHugh notes that page 332 begins with language mimicking that of the various formulas ending Danish and English fairy tales and games, which indicates that the end of the tale of the captain has occurred or is soon at hand.  The kettle is on to make the tea (part of the English fairy tale ending, but also what is literally happening in the pub), and the narrator merges the Captain and HCE by asserting that "if hec dont love alpy then lad you annoy me."  The next sentence is interrupted by another thunderword which in part indicates that "daddy" has "doodled" in "dubbland."  

There's (at least) a double meaning in this doodling thunder, as seen in the next paragraph, in which the thunder is "the act of goth stepping the tolk of Doolin."  In the wake (haha) of this thunder, we hear the people saying, "we'll pull the boath toground togutter."  If this act of God is the Christ-like intercessor (McHugh notes that "tolk" is "Norwegian" for interpreter) stepping forward to bring peace to Dublin, then the thunder inspires the city's people to set aside their differences with the Norwegian Captain (and HCE) and pull the boat to ground together.  But, if the thunder instead stops the gossipy talk of Dublin in a manner that frightens the populace and causes them to resent the invading captain, then it has inspired the people to unite to pull the boat (or both the captain and his wife) and the Norwegian Captain/HCE's reputation to the ground and ultimately to the gutter.  The thunderwords always indicate a fall, so the latter interpretation is probably the primary one.

In the aftermath of the thunder-fall, the Norwegian Captain/HCE -- "that gronde old mand to be that haard of heaering" -- meets up with his nemesis, "the cad."  Once again, their interaction is vague, as on this "Junuary morn" the captain/HCE has "forecaused a bridge of the piers, at Inverleffy."  So, he's either forecasted or caused a bridge or breach of the piece between them.  

We won't know which, at least for now, because we now encounter an "Enterruption" or "Dvershen."  This is none other than Kate coming through the door and into the pub.  Kate (or Kathe, as we remember her in the Wellington Museum) clops between "the two deathdealing allied divisions and the lines of readypresent fire of the corkedagains upstored" (the brawling, drunken patrons and HCE) and reminds everyone to "band your hands going in, bind your heads coming out," much as she did when she gave us the tour at the beginning of the Wake.  It appears that she has a message for someone, which we'll get to tomorrow.