―Nobody is saying a word against them, said Mr. Dedalus, so long as they don’t meddle in politics.
―The bishops and priests of Ireland have spoken, said Dante, and they must be obeyed.
―Let them leave politics alone, said Mr. Casey, or the people may leave their church alone.
―You hear? said Dante, turning to Mrs. Dedalus.
― Mr. Casey! Simon! said Mrs. Dedalus, let it end now.
―Too bad! Too bad! said uncle Charles.
―What? cried Mr. Dedalus. Were we to desert him at the bidding of the English people?
―He was no longer worthy to lead, said Dante. He was a public sinner.
―We are all sinners and black sinners, said Mr. Casey coldly.
―Woe be to the man by whom the scandal cometh! said Mrs. Riordan. It would be better for him that a millstone were tied about his neck and that he were cast into the depths of the sea rather than that he should scandalise one of these, my least little ones. That is the language of the Holy Ghost.
―And very bad language if you ask me, said Mr. Dedalus coolly.
―Simon! Simon! said uncle Charles. The boy.
―Yes, yes, said Mr. Dedalus. I meant about the … I was thinking about the bad language of the railway porter. Well now, that’s all right. Here, Stephen, show me your plate, old chap. Eat away now. Here.