"O'Nolan, clad in shining armour, low bending made obeisance to the puissant and high and mighty chief of all Erin and did him to wit of that which had befallen," (U12.1183)
"how that the grave elders of the most obedient city, second of the realm, had met them in the tholsel, and there, after due prayers to the gods who dwell in ether supernal, had taken solemn counsel whereby they might, if so be it might be, bring once more into honour among mortal men the winged speech of the seadivided Gael." (U12.1185)

The Coat of Arms of Dublin, first granted officially to the Dublin City Assembly in 1607, includes the ancient device of the three castles (symbol of the city since the Middle Ages) and the Dublin motto in Latin: Obedientia Civium Urbis Felicitas = The Obedience of the Citizen is the Happiness of the City.
"— It's on the march, says the citizen. To hell with the bloody brutal Sassenachs and their patois." (12.1190)
"So J. J. puts in a word, doing the toff about one story was good till you heard another and blinking facts and the Nelson policy, putting your blind eye to the telescope and drawing up a bill of attainder to impeach a nation, and Bloom trying to back him up moderation and botheration and their colonies and their civilisation." (U12.1192)
"— Their syphilisation, you mean, says the citizen. To hell with them! The curse of a goodfornothing God light sideways on the bloody thicklugged sons of whores' gets! No music and no art and no literature worthy of the name. Any civilisation they have they stole from us. Tonguetied sons of bastards' ghosts.
— The European family, says J. J
— They're not European, says the citizen. I was in Europe with Kevin Egan of Paris. You wouldn't see a trace of them or their language anywhere in Europe except in a cabinet d'aisance." (U12.1197)
"And says John Wyse:
— Full many a flower is born to blush unseen.
And says Lenehan that knows a bit of the lingo:
— Conspuez les Anglais! Perfide Albion!" (U12.1206)

From Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard, by Thomas Gray. The lines comes as:

'Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear:
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.'
Oh well!
"He said and then lifted he in his rude great brawny strengthy hands the medher of dark strong foamy ale and, uttering his tribal slogan Lamh Dearg Abu, he drank to the undoing of his foes, a race of mighty valorous heroes, rulers of the waves, who sit on thrones of alabaster silent as the deathless gods." (U12.1210)
"- What's up with you, says I to Lenehan. You look like a fellow that had lost a bob and found a tanner.
- Gold cup, says he.
- Who won, Mr Lenehan? says Terry.
- Throwaway, says he, at twenty to one. A rank outsider. And the rest nowhere.
- And Bass's mare? says Terry.
- Still running, says he. We're all in a cart. Boylan plunged two quid on my tip Sceptre for himself and a lady friend.
- I had half a crown myself, says Terry, on Zinfandel that Mr Flynn gave me." (U12.1215)
"Lord Howard de Walden's." (U12.1225)
"- Twenty to one, says Lenehan. Such is life in an outhouse. Throwaway, says he. Takes the biscuit, and talking about bunions. Frailty, thy name is Sceptre." (U12.1226)

(Image courtesy of the James Joyce Museum)
"So he went over to the biscuit tin Bob Doran left to see if there was anything he could lift on the nod, the old cur after him backing his luck with his mangy snout up." (U12.1229)
"Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard.
- Not there, my child, says he.
- Keep your pecker up, says Joe. She'd have won the money only for the other dog. " (U12.1231)
"And J.J. and the citizen arguing about law and history with Bloom sticking in an odd word.
- Some people, says Bloom, can see the mote in others' eyes but they can't see the beam in their own.
- Raimeis, says the citizen. There's no-one as blind as the fellow that won't see, if you know what that means." (U12.1235)
"Where are our missing twenty millions of Irish should be here today instead of four, our lost tribes? And our potteries and textiles, the finest in the whole world! And our wool that was sold in Rome in the time of Juvenal and our flax and our damask from the looms of Antrim" (U12.1240)
"and our Limerick lace, our tanneries and our white flint glass down there by Ballybough" (U12.1244)
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