you think, because you're poor
and ignorant and half-crazy with toiling and moiling morning noon
and night, that you'll be any less greedy and oppressive to them
that have no land at all than old Nick Lestrange, who was an
educated travelled gentleman that would not have been tempted as
hard by a hundred pounds as you'd be by five shillings? Nick was
too high above Patsy Farrell to be jealous of him; but you, that
are only one little step above him, would die sooner than let him
come up that step; and well you know it.

MATTHEW [black with rage, in a low growl]. Lemme oura this. [He
tries to rise; but Doran catches his coat and drags him down
again] I'm goin, I say. [Raising his voice] Leggo me coat, Barney
Doran.

DORAN. Sit down, yowl omadhaun, you. [Whispering] Don't you want
to stay an vote against him?

FATHER DEMPSEY [holding up his finger] Mat! [Mat subsides]. Now,
now, now! come, come! Hwats all dhis about Patsy Farrll? Hwy need
you fall out about HIM?

LARRY. Because it was by using Patsy's poverty to undersell
England in the markets of the world that we drove England to ruin
Ireland. And she'll ruin us again the moment we lift our heads
from the dust if we trade in cheap labor; and serve us right too!
If I get into parliament, I'll try to get an Act to prevent any
of you from giving Patsy less than a pound a week [they all
start, hardly able to believe their ears] or working him harder
than you'd work a horse that cost you fifty guineas.

DORAN. Hwat!!!

CORNELIUS [aghast]. A pound a--God save us! the boy's mad.

Matthew, feeling that here is something quite beyond his powers,
turns openmouthed to the priest, as if looking for nothing less
than the summary excommunication of Larry.

LARRY. How is the man to marry and live a decent life on less?

FATHER DEMPSEY. Man alive, hwere have you been living all these
years? and hwat have you been dreaming of? Why, some o dhese
honest men here can't make that much out o the land for
themselves, much less give it to a laborer.

LARRY [now thoroughly roused]. Then let them make room for those
who can. Is Ireland never to have a chance? First she was given
to the rich; and now that they have gorged on her flesh, her
bones are to be flung to the poor, that can do nothing but suck
the marrow out of her. If we can't have men of honor own the
land, lets have men of ability. If we can't have men with
ability, let us at least have men with capital. Anybody's bette