When he was down they turned on
him to betray him and rend him like rats in a sewer. Low-lived dogs!
And they look it! By Christ, they look it!
--They behaved rightly, cried Dante. They obeyed their bishops and
their priests. Honour to them!
--Well, it is perfectly dreadful to say that not even for one day in
the year, said Mrs Dedalus, can we be free from these dreadful
disputes!
Uncle Charles raised his hands mildly and said:
--Come now, come now, come now! Can we not have our opinions whatever
they are without this bad temper and this bad language? It is too bad
surely.
Mrs Dedalus spoke to Dante in a low voice but Dante said loudly:
--I will not say nothing. I will defend my church and my religion when
it is insulted and spit on by renegade catholics.
Mr Casey pushed his plate rudely into the middle of the table and,
resting his elbows before him, said in a hoarse voice to his host:
--Tell me, did I tell you that story about a very famous spit?
--You did not, John, said Mr Dedalus.
--Why then, said Mr Casey, it is a most instructive story. It happened
not long ago in the county Wicklow where we are now.
He broke off and, turning towards Dante, said with quiet indignation:
--And I may tell you, ma'am, that I, if you mean me, am no renegade
catholic.
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