In the briefest of lulls between speakers, as the bitter hostilities lurched angrily on, deputies faced each other across the floor of the Dáil.
The brittle atmosphere and closed body language was striking.
On the Government side: grim-faced TDs sitting sullenly in their seats, glowering over at the Opposition.
On the Opposition side: grim-faced TDs, sitting sullenly in their seats, glowering over at the Government.
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A study in stalemate. They had to be dug out of each other on Tuesday. They dug in on Wednesday.
After the histrionics at the start of the week, when the Ceann Comhairle abandoned ship once the Government voted through its deal on readied-up opposition speaking rights for Michael Lowry, a semblance of normality returned to the chamber.
But, for the real Opposition still outraged by the Martin/Lowry stroke, it was more a case of keeping a lid on the blowout for the sake of appearances. They are still fuming.
Wednesday’s confrontation, while markedly quieter, had the added element of accusation and recrimination as the warring parties blamed each other for the chaotic scenes of the previous day.
And while the combined forces of the Opposition didn’t ease up on the Taoiseach over his dogged determination to change unpopular Government water into public relations wine for Lowry and remaining group members who don’t have ministerial jobs, they aimed their fire at a different quarry.
This time, the approach was different.
When all the Opposition leaders came looking for the new Ceann Comhairle’s head for her part in Tuesday’s Dáil debacle, they said they were doing it with regret. It gave them no pleasure to ask Verona Murphy, who ascended the chair as part of the Lowry deal, to consider her position.
[ Verona Murphy’s survival as Ceann Comhairle hinges on two questionsOpens in new window ]
One by one, they said it was untenable. Which is not a good place for a Ceann Comhairle, who should enjoy the confidence of all sides of the House, to be.
Sinn Féin’s resident hotheads remained on best behaviour for the most part, confining themselves to minor eruptions
As the pressure piled on, she started writing notes on the back of a brown envelope. Was she drafting a statement? She was not.
By teatime, the combined Opposition had signed a motion of no confidence in the Ceann Comhairle. A very serious move.
But the Government is backing Verona to the hilt.
She is not for turning.
She issued a response soon after the no confidence motion was published, saying she will not resign and categorically rejecting the Opposition’s “entirely false allegations of collusion” against her.
The Government has introduced a counter-motion expressing confidence in the Chair.
This drama will play out next week.
[ The Irish Times view on the Dáil row: an embarrassing spectacleOpens in new window ]
Back to the current crisis, and Sinn Féin’s resident hotheads remained on best behaviour for the most part, confining themselves to minor eruptions in the face of an onslaught from a Taoiseach determined to reassert his, and his Government’s, authority after Tuesday’s mauling.
Micheál Martin returned to the fight with a typed script packed with what he claimed were supporting figures on how other parliaments work around the world. He would later produce a photocopy of an article from the Indo last year to chastise the Labour leader for her lack of “sincerity” in comments about entering government.
Somebody did a lot of homework on Tuesday night.
The Taoiseach fought his corner and stood his ground. He threw everything at the Opposition – excoriating their deliberately disruptive performance the day before and Sinn Féin’s “loud hailer politics of the streets”.

He reserved particular disdain for Ivana Bacik’s Labour. Imagine, throwing in their lot with Sinn Féin and the likes of People Before Profit-Solidarity’s Paul Murphy.
Siding with the Shinners? “You’ll regret it,” quivered Micheál.
And has she forgotten the time Paul Murphy and fellow protesters surrounded her former leader, Joan Burton, in her car during a demo in Tallaght?
Ivana retorted that not only was he increasingly tetchy, he was becoming very patronising too.
“Let me make it clear,” she told the much-protesting Taoiseach. “This is a mess of your making.”
Micheál hurled the kitchen sink at his detractors.
Their disgraceful attempt to shut down parliament, their campaign to “make life impossible” for the Ceann Comhairle, their “feigned outrage”, their sulking because they didn’t win the election. Not to mention the wars raging around the world, Trump’s tariffs, economic uncertainty ...
He had a lot to say on a lot of things and many charges to level, yet never a satisfactory explanation as to why he is so determined to push through an outrageous change to speaking rights for Lowry, who, incidentally, didn’t smirk and goad the Opposition during Wednesday’s session.
That arresting photograph of him giving the two fingers to opponents after the voting wheeze was pushed through in the chamber went viral on social media and made all the newspaper front pages.
Ruth Coppinger of Solidarity wondered why Micheál would want to give the time of day to someone like Michael Lowry, ‘who gave two fingers to the public yesterday’
It seems even his cough can be softened. After the Taoiseach condemned his action, he issued a statement saying it was “an errant [sic] gesture under provocation”.
That was because Paul Murphy was filming the scenes as the chamber cleared – something the Taoiseach also condemned. One presumes he also condemns the other deputies, including those in Lowry’s orbit, who were doing the same thing at the time.
Opposition TDs wondered again and again about the Taoiseach’s motives for tolerating such upheaval for one man who already netted a handsome haul for agreeing to support his Government.
But then, one of Micheál’s main gripes with the smaller parties across the floor is that they didn’t agree to go into government with him. The Lowry “others” did. And that’s all that matters in this game.
Paul Gogarty, the former Green TD who is now an Independent, took a very reasonable approach. He felt the way the Ceann Comhairle was treated on Tuesday was “semi-feral”, he told the Taoiseach. “But what you are doing is wrong. Would you please reconsider?”
Bless his innocence.
Ruth Coppinger of Solidarity wondered why Micheál would want to give the time of day to someone like Michael Lowry, “who gave two fingers to the public yesterday and then went and gaslit the population that he did not actually do it”.
And, speaking of gaslighting, she also wondered about the Taoiseach repeatedly insisting that the controversy is over a mere eight minutes of speaking time.
“Why would you die on a ditch over eight minutes, Taoiseach?”
Micheál bridled.
“I’m not dying on any ditch,” he huffed, clearly still in the whole of his health as he laid aside the shovel he used to dig it for himself.
Matters eventually moved on to more mundane matters. And now, with their teeth pre-sharpened for them, the Government backbenchers were able to give a taste of what the public can expect when they get the chance to take full advantage of the Lowry rule change.
During questions on Promised Legislation, when they could always ask what they liked, they went for their Government prey like a pack of terriers chasing a rat.
Fianna Fáil’s Ryan O’Meara from Tipperary North threw caution to the wind with a question about changing the mandatory retirement age for bus drivers.
“I actually agree with you, deputy ...” began the Taoiseach, clearly rattled.
And now here was his party colleague, Peter “Chap” Cleere, from Carlow-Kilkenny, steaming in, studs up.
“Just in relation to proceedings which happened yesterday,” said Peter, looking in Verona’s direction. “I spoke with my four daughters last night about the carry-on, and the intimidation and the bullying and abuse that you were subjected to as Ceann Comhairle yesterday was nothing short of disgraceful. Nobody should be bullied in the workplace and they just asked me to say hello to you and to wish you very, very well and they’re thinking of you.”
The Taoiseach, in an equally hard-hitting reply, echoed the sentiments.
As his backbenchers turned the screw, Fine Gael’s Naoise Ó Muirí from Dublin Bay North was next in. He looked like he meant business.
“I just want to commend you on keeping the car between the ditches on a very difficult day for you yesterday in terms of work,” he fumed at his Taoiseach, who simpered with attitude.
It’ll be vicious next week.