Ah, Dedalus, the Greeks! I must teach you. You must read them in the
original. THALATTA! THALATTA! She is our great sweet mother. Come and
look.

Stephen stood up and went over to the parapet. Leaning on it he looked
down on the water and on the mailboat clearing the harbourmouth of
Kingstown.

--Our mighty mother! Buck Mulligan said.

He turned abruptly his grey searching eyes from the sea to Stephen's
face.

--The aunt thinks you killed your mother, he said. That's why she won't
let me have anything to do with you.

--Someone killed her, Stephen said gloomily.

--You could have knelt down, damn it, Kinch, when your dying mother asked
you, Buck Mulligan said. I'm hyperborean as much as you. But to think of
your mother begging you with her last breath to kneel down and pray for
her. And you refused. There is something sinister in you ...

He broke off and lathered again lightly his farther cheek. A tolerant
smile curled his lips.

--But a lovely mummer! he murmured to himself. Kinch, the loveliest
mummer of them all!

He shaved evenly and with care, in silence, seriously.