MRS. COTTER (_takes money_)
Hurry now like good boys, for forty shillin's is a lot
to pay for a pint o' porter, an' that's what 'twill cost
ye if the police comes in an' finds ye here. An' I'll
lose me license into the bargain.
[_Exit_.
MICUS
One would think be the way the police are talked
about that they had charge of the whole Universe!
PADNA
An' who else has charge of it but themselves an' the
magistrates, or justices o' the pace, as they're called?
MICUS
They're worse than the police.
PADNA
They're as bad anyway, an' that's bad enough.
MICUS (_scornfully_)
Justices o' the pace!
PADNA
Micus!
MICUS
What?
PADNA (_thoughtfully_)
There's no justice in the world.
MICUS
Damn the bit! Sure 'tisn't porter we should be drinkin'
a cold night like this!
PADNA (_as he sips from pint_)
'Tis well to have it these times.
MICUS
The world is goin' to the dogs, I'm afraid.
PADNA
'Tisn't goin' at all, but gone.
MICUS
An' nobody seems to care.
PADNA
Some pretend they do, like the preachers, but they're
paid for it. I do be often wonderin' after readin' the
newspapers if God has forgotten about the world
altogether.
MICUS
I wouldn't be surprised, for nothin' seems to be right.
There's the police, for instance. They can do what
they like, an' we must do what we're told, like childer.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25