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Updated: May 26, 2025
Now that you have signed the petition for universal peace, said Stephen, I suppose you will burn that little copybook I saw in your room. As Davin did not answer, Stephen began to quote: Long pace, fianna! Right incline, fianna! Fianna, by numbers, salute, one, two! That's a different question, said Davin. I'm an Irish nationalist, first and foremost. But that's you all out.
My first cousin, Fonsy Davin, was stripped to his buff that day minding cool for the Limericks but he was up with the forwards half the time and shouting like mad. I never will forget that day. One of the Crokes made a woeful wipe at him one time with his caman and I declare to God he was within an aim's ace of getting it at the side of his temple.
"According to another interpretation, put forward by Canon Davin, this porch, which was built at the time when Saint Dominic instituted the Rosary, is a reproduction in images of its mysteries."
Often, as he sat in Davin's rooms in Grantham Street, wondering at his friend's well-made boots that flanked the wall pair by pair and repeating for his friend's simple ear the verses and cadences of others which were the veils of his own longing and dejection, the rude Firbolg mind of his listener had drawn his mind towards it and flung it back again, drawing it by a quiet inbred courtesy of attention or by a quaint turn of old English speech or by the force of its delight in rude bodily skill for Davin had sat at the feet of Michael Cusack, the Gael repelling swiftly and suddenly by a grossness of intelligence or by a bluntness of feeling or by a dull stare of terror in the eyes, the terror of soul of a starving Irish village in which the curfew was still a nightly fear.
A woman had waited in the doorway as Davin had passed by at night and, offering him a cup of milk, had all but wooed him to her bed; for Davin had the mild eyes of one who could be secret. But him no woman's eyes had wooed. His arm was taken in a strong grip and Cranly's voice said: Let us eke go. They walked southward in silence. Then Cranly said: That blithering idiot, Temple!
He looked at it without anger; for, though sloth of the body and of the soul crept over it like unseen vermin, over the shuffling feet and up the folds of the cloak and around the servile head, it seemed humbly conscious of its indignity. It was a Firbolg in the borrowed cloak of a Milesian; and he thought of his friend Davin, the peasant student.
Stephen bent down towards Davin who, intent on the game, had paid no heed to the talk of the others. And how is my little tame goose? he asked. Did he sign, too? David nodded and said: And you, Stevie? Stephen shook his head. You're a terrible man, Stevie, said Davin, taking the short pipe from his mouth, always alone.
As they neared the alley Stephen could hear the thuds of the players' hands and the wet smacks of the ball and Davin's voice crying out excitedly at each stroke. The three students halted round the box on which Davin sat to follow the game. Temple, after a few moments, sidled across to Stephen and said: Excuse me, I wanted to ask you, do you believe that Jean-Jacques Rousseau was a sincere man?
Then you used to address the jesuits as father, you remember? I ask myself about you: IS HE AS INNOCENT AS HIS SPEECH? I'm a simple person, said Davin. You know that. When you told me that night in Harcourt Street those things about your private life, honest to God, Stevie, I was not able to eat my dinner. I was quite bad. I was awake a long time that night. Why did you tell me those things?
Balzac wished at first to use an old preface that he had written in conjunction with Felix Davin, and placed, under the latter's signature, at the beginning of the Study of Manners and Morals in the Nineteenth Century. Hetzel objected to this, and urged that so important an undertaking ought to be preceded by an author's apology.
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