LET US HOPE
J. J. O’Molloy, about to follow him in, said quietly to Stephen:
—I hope you will live to see it published. Myles, one moment.
He went into the inner office, closing the door behind him.
—Come along, Stephen, the professor said. That is fine, isn’t it? It has the prophetic vision. Fuit Ilium! The sack of windy Troy. Kingdoms of this world. The masters of the Mediterranean are fellaheen today.
The first newsboy came pattering down the stairs at their heels and rushed out into the street, yelling:
Dublin. I have much, much to learn.
They turned to the left along Abbey street.
—I have a vision too, Stephen said.
—Yes? the professor said, skipping to get into step. Crawford will follow.
Another newsboy shot past them, yelling as he ran:
Fuit Ilium translates to “Troy has been” taken from a passage in Virgil’s Aeneid 2:325-326 (source)
“…: fuimus Troes, fuit Ilium et ingens
“…: We Trojans are no more, Ilium is no more, nor the great
Glory of the Teucrians;”
Obviously a reference to the theories posited by the charecters in this chapter that the glory days of Irish history are over. This idea is elaborated on in the next line “The masters of the Mediterranean are fellaheen today”. Fellaheen being an Arabic word for “ploughman” or “tiller”.