When her husband steals his father's money--a very small part indeed compared with what the father had stolen from him--he leaves the hateful place and _Mary_ remains to face the master. For the sake of her child she strikes a bargain with _Rutherford_. _Mary._ A bargain is where one person has something to sell that another wants to buy. There's no love in it--only money--money that pays for life. I've got something to sell that you want to buy. _Rutherford._ What's that? _Mary._ My son. You've lost everything you've had in the world. John's gone--and Richard--and Janet. They won't come back. You're alone now and getting old, with no one to come after you. When you die Rutherfords' will be sold--somebody'll buy it and give it a new name perhaps, and no one will even remember that you made it. That'll be the end of all your work. Just--nothing. You've thought of that.... It's for my boy. I want--a chance of life for him--his place in the world. John can't give him that, because he's made so. If I went to London and worked my hardest I'd get twenty-five shillings a week. We've failed. From you I can get when I want for my boy. I want--all the good common things: a good house, good food, warmth. He's a delicate little thing now, but he'll grow strong like other children.... Give me what I ask, and in return I'll give you--him. On one condition. I'm to stay on here. I won't trouble you--you needn't speak to me or see me unless you want to. For ten years he's to be absolutely mine, to do what I like with. You mustn't interfere--you mustn't tell him to do things or frighten him. He's mine for ten years more. _Rutherford._ And after that? _Mary._ He'll be yours. _Rutherford._ To train up. For Rutherfords'? _Mary._ Yes. _Rutherford._ After all? After Dick, that I've bullied till he's a fool? John, that's wished me dead? _Mary._ In ten years you'll be an old man; you won't be able to make people afraid of you any more. When I saw the masterly presentation of the play on the stage, _Mary's_ bargain looked unreal and incongruous. It seemed impossible to me that a mother who really loves her child should want it to be in any way connected with the Rutherfords'. But after repeatedly rereading the play, I was convinced by _Mary's_ simple statement: "In ten years you'll be an old man; you won't be able to make people afraid of you any more." Most deeply true. The Rutherfords are bound by time, by the eternal forces of change. Their influence on human life is indeed terrible. Notwithstanding it all, however, they are fighting a losing game. They are growing old, already too old to make anyone afraid. Change and innovation are marching on, and the Rutherfords must make place for the young generation knocking at the gates. THE IRISH DRAMA WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS