It was the opening night of a new Dail season, and the Government players were understandably nervous.
Notwithstanding their successful tour of the provinces, the national theatre was far from sold out for the return of the much-loved act, now in its fourth year. Indeed, most of the good seats - the ones on the Government frontbench - were empty, heightening speculation on who will fill them today when the Taoiseach announces his reshuffle. But it was still a first night, and the critics were in.
Bertie Ahern had barely delivered his opening lines - a composite answer to 15 questions, mostly about his recent trip to South Africa - when he got his first negative review. Before you could say "the butcher of Broadway", Ruairi Quinn was on his feet to denounce the performance as a "farce"; a cruel criticism of a Government that prides itself on producing serious (not to mention big-budget) drama.
The Labour leader suspected the telescoping of so many questions was designed to thwart the Opposition. But after reluctantly accepting the Taoiseach's reassurances, he turned to deriding Mr Ahern's commitment to the UN target for overseas aid to developing countries.
"Like draining the Shannon," suggested Mr Quinn. "Like restoring the Irish language," quipped Brendan Howlin. You could tell Labour had plenty more similes where these came from; but with similar noises coming from the Fine Gael seats, where John Bruton and Michael Barrett were also chuckling at the Taoiseach's best lines, Mr Ahern accused his critics of flippancy about a serious issue and temporarily cowed them.
In truth, the return of the Dail felt less like an opening night than a cut-price preview. The Government was keeping its exciting new acts - expected to include Brian Cowen in a potentially career-making performance as Minister for Foreign Affairs - under wraps until today, and with them the tear-jerking farewell of outgoing minister David Andrews.
Mr Cowen wasn't there for the first act, and neither was the next man tipped to see before him the dagger of the Ministry for Health, Micheal Martin. Seamus Brennan - perhaps also seeing daggers - sat behind the Taoiseach, looking a little glum; but then that's his normal expression. Beside Mr Ahern, Michael Woods looked a little smug, but then that's his.
Even the Opposition seemed subdued. The most dramatic thing in the house was Ruairi Quinn's tie: a broad shaft of golden yellow that tapered up his chest like the sun entering the chamber at Newgrange. But it didn't enlighten the Dail chamber much. And in the absence of the chief protagonists, with the director giving nothing away, it was all a bit like Hamlet without the ham.
