Pride

• the pride of balls and parties, and the glory of a wake: (song) Enniscorthy, by Robert Martin, in celebration of the prowess of "Demetrius O'Flanagan McCarthy ... the pride of balls and parties, and the glory of a wake"; the song is also alluded to in the Lotus Eaters episode in Ulysses → 027.25 and 463.22

Enniscorthy

You may travel all thro’ Europe, and then ’round by Chesapake;
You may meet with many warriors, but don’t make a mistake,
For the pride of balls and parties, and the glory of a wake,
Was Demetrius O’Flannigan McCarthy.
’Twas late he went to breakfast, and ’twas late he went to bed;
If you took up a thermometer, at lasteways so ’twas said,
The quicksilver started bubblin’ when you placed it near his head,
And the steam was like a rainbow ’round McCarthy.

Chorus:
Miss Dunne said they did crowd her thin, Miss Murphy took to powther thin,
For fear the boys might say that she was swarthy;
And the sticks they all went whacking, and the skulls, faith, they were cracking,
When McCarthy took the flure in Enniscorthy.

Dan Murphy gave a party, well, and all the boys were there;
McCarthy, full of whiskey hot, at once there did repair,
When a dog came and ran away with Miss Muldooney’s hair;
’Twas that that roused the dander of McCarthy.
He was dancing the mazurka—that’s what all the ladies said;
The fright shook all the false teeth out of poor ould Murphy’s head,
And he danced with Miss Mullarkey till they stretched her out for dead,
Faith, she couldn’t hould a candle to McCarthy.—Chorus.

When they’d gargled all the whiskey, faith, a desperate row arose;
McCarthy, sure, he levelled them; he fought them to a close,
Till he walked upon de masther of the ceremonies’ nose;
’Twas that that played the mischief with McCarthy.
The master of the work-house, well, he knocked a peeler down,
Who fell upon an alderman who came from County Down,
And a Presbyterian minister and the clerk now of the Crown,
Were dancing like the divil on McCarthy.—Chorus.

O boys, there was the element, of that you may be sure;
Some were carried home on shutters, yes, and some upon a door,
And the eyes and ears and noses were like marbles on the floor,
with the fragments of the man they call McCarthy.
Says Dan Murphy, Thanks to Providence, the ball at last is done,
If you want to smash your furniture and have no end of fun,
Or if you want your two eyes to be knocked straight into one,
You need only give a ball And ax McCarthy.—Chorus.