lunder us that they may plunder you afterwards. Eh?

BROADBENT [a little impatient of this unbusinesslike view]. Yes,
yes; but you know you might say that of any country. The fact is,
there are only two qualities in the world: efficiency and
inefficiency, and only two sorts of people: the efficient and the
inefficient. It don't matter whether they're English or Irish. I
shall collar this place, not because I'm an Englishman and
Haffigan and Co are Irishmen, but because they're duffers and I
know my way about.

KEEGAN. Have you considered what is to become of Haffigan?

LARRY. Oh, we'll employ him in some capacity or other, and
probably pay him more than he makes for himself now.

BROADBENT [dubiously]. Do you think so? No no: Haffigan's too
old. It really doesn't pay now to take on men over forty even for
unskilled labor, which I suppose is all Haffigan would be good
for. No: Haffigan had better go to America, or into the Union,
poor old chap! He's worked out, you know: you can see it.

KEEGAN. Poor lost soul, so cunningly fenced in with invisible
bars!

LARRY. Haffigan doesn't matter much. He'll die presently.

BROADBENT [shocked]. Oh come, Larry! Don't be unfeeling. It's
hard on Haffigan. It's always hard on the inefficient.

LARRY. Pah! what does it matter where an old and broken man
spends his last days, or whether he has a million at the bank or
only the workhouse dole? It's the young men, the able men, that
matter. The real tragedy of Haffigan is the tragedy of his wasted
youth, his stunted mind, his drudging over his clods and pigs
until he has become a clod and a pig himself--until the soul
within him has smouldered into nothing but a dull temper that
hurts himself and all around him. I say let him die, and let us
have no more of his like. And let young Ireland take care that it
doesn't share his fate, instead of making another empty grievance
of it. Let your syndicate come--

BROADBENT. Your syndicate too, old chap. You have your bit of the
stock.

LARRY. Yes, mine if you like. Well, our syndicate has no
conscience: it has no more regard for your Haffigans and Doolans
and Dorans than it has for a gang of Chinese coolies. It will use
your patriotic blatherskite and balderdash to get parliamentary
powers over you as cynically as it would bait a mousetrap with
toasted cheese. It will plan, and organize, and find capital
while you slave like bees for it and revenge yourselves by paying
politicians an