Mr Dedalus threw his knife and fork noisily on his plate.
—Respect! he said. Is it for Billy with the lip or for the tub of guts up in Armagh? respect!
—Princes of the church, said Mr Casey with slow scorn.
—Lord Leitrim's coachman, yes, said Mr Dedalus.
—They are the Lord's anointed, Dante said. They are an honour to their country.
—Tub of guts, said Mr Dedalus coarsely. He has a handsome face, mind you, in repose. You should see that fellow lapping up his bacon and cabbage of a cold winter's day. O Johnny!
