civility back in his face?

MRS O'FLAHERTY. You would take the hand of a tyrant red with the
blood of Ireland--

O'FLAHERTY. Arra hold your nonsense, mother: he's not half the
tyrant you are, God help him. His hand was cleaner than mine that
had the blood of his own relations on it, maybe.

MRS O'FLAHERTY [threateningly]. Is that a way to speak to your
mother, you young spalpeen?

O'FLAHERTY [stoutly]. It is so, if you won't talk sense to me.
It's a nice thing for a poor boy to be made much of by kings and
queens, and shook hands with by the heighth of his country's
nobility in the capital cities of the world, and then to come
home and be scolded and insulted by his own mother. I'll fight
for who I like; and I'll shake hands with what kings I like; and
if your own son is not good enough for you, you can go and look
for another. Do you mind me now?

MRS O'FLAHERTY. And was it the Belgians learned you such brazen
impudence?

O'FLAHERTY. The Belgians is good men; and the French ought to be
more civil to them, let alone their being half murdered by the
Boshes.

MRS O'FLAHERTY. Good men is it! Good men! to come over here when
they were wounded because it was a Catholic country, and then to