Frank Cluskey was once asked why the battered government in which he was a junior minister seemed to have gone into exile. Several of its senior members were attending religious ceremonies in Rome. Others were spread across Europe and the United States. Frank himself was in Paris. What were they up to? Cluskey was never one to beat about the bush:
"What are we up to? I'll tell you what we're up to. We're trying to give the poor little country a shaggin' chance."
Bertie Ahern must wish this weekend that some of his colleagues, predecessors and would-be helpers would go into exile, or if not, take long holidays in out-of-the-way places. They could even join in the harmless fun of their friends on the religious front, who've been trying to pin responsibility for the decline in the fortunes of the Catholic Church on Fintan O'Toole.
In Bertie's case it's the party, not the country, that needs a chance, though everyone knows that what bothers Fianna Fail today is bound to trouble the rest of us tomorrow. And what's bothering Mr Ahern in these sultry days are the ghosts of old Fianna Fail on the battlements.
If only Ray Burke would stay on holiday instead of dropping in to deliver a defence which redoubles interest in the hefty contribution he's had from a supporter in the building industry.
If only Albert Reynolds would act his age and stop pretending that he has a semi-official role on Northern Ireland, which he hasn't.
If only members of the party, up to and including David Andrews and P.J. Mara, would stop drawing attention to Mr Reynolds's other, equally awkward, aspiration.
They must know that in singing the praises of John Hume as the best and possibly the only candidate for the Presidency, they beg the question: what about Albert?
Thousands of words have been written about Mr Reynolds's ambitions. On Raidio na Gaeltachta's Seo Beo an tSathairn last week, Eilis ni Shuileabhain reduced them to three: "Ah, Albert bocht." I doubt if anyone has got closer to the heart of the matter: can he not accept that he is what he is, a former Taoiseach who has a reputation to live up to and a record - for coalition-busting - to live down?
Now, it's Bertie bocht who must lead on and, as Hamlet dolefully observed of other ghosts: "When sorrows come, they come not single spies but in battalions."
These battalions are led at present by Mr Ahern's old mentor, Charles Haughey, who fondly imagined Bertie as a true successor: the most cunning, the most devious, the most ruthless of them all.
Judge Brian McCracken, I suspect, is putting the finishing touches to the penultimate chapter in the Haughey story as August draws to a close.
(The story to date is sketched in T. Ryle Dwyer's Fallen Idol, just published. Joe Joyce and Peter Murtagh have completed a new edition of their classic, The Boss, and Bruce Arnold is updating Haughey: His Life and Unlucky Deeds. No doubt work is in progress elsewhere.)
What happens next will depend not only on the tribunal's report but on the reactions of Mr Ahern, his colleagues and opponents to the judge's findings. The importance the public attaches to the inquiry was made startlingly clear when those attending the final session applauded Mr McCracken and his thoroughgoing staff.
It was an unusual display - I doubt if it has happened before - and almost as surprising as the incredulous laughter which greeted some of Mr Haughey's evidence.
Mr Ahern will have read the reports and watched the television coverage of Mr Haughey's departure from Dublin Castle as booing rippled through the crowd in the Castle Yard.
It was a scene eerily reminiscent of the last official appearance in Bucharest of Nicolae Ceausescu in December 1989 when the adulation he'd expected turned to ice.
Even before Judge McCracken presents his conclusions, the Taoiseach must recognise that it's time to live up to one of the promises he made in opposition.
He must show that he meant what he said, at the last ard fheis and during the election campaign, about setting and maintaining new standards in public life and, in particular, in Fianna Fail.
It's no longer a question of establishing a new tribunal to continue the work so well begun by McCracken. No one seriously doubts the need for another, more wide-ranging investigation. The debate will be about the terms of reference and about demands - bound to be raised by the Opposition - for the inclusion of links between business and politics in which, not only Mr Haughey but Mr Burke and Mr Reynolds were involved.
Mr Ahern's determination will be tested in two areas. If he's serious about sorting out the relationship between business and politics, the Government will have to change its tune on the State funding of parties. As evidence to the McCracken tribunal showed, funding is not an issue confined to Fianna Fail alone: there will have to be agreement on all sides about disclosure of sources and spending on elections.
And there should be no guff about contributors to party funds who don't seek and aren't granted political favours.
Such paragons of democratic virtue may exist; and I'm sure there are many in business and politics who would be shocked at the thought of envelopes crammed with used notes changing hands in lonely car-parks late at night.
That's not, I'm convinced, how it works in most cases. It's much more likely that people in business look on their contributions as insurance: they may never need to claim but, if they do, they know their payments are up to date.
Some links between the worlds of business and politics are scarcely visible to the naked eye, as was clear from John Maher's report in this newspaper last week.
The report, headed "Investment-for-passports cash funded UK tennis clubs group," showed how leading businessmen, operating in a commercial maze, were able to benefit from political schemes with which no outsider would dream of connecting them.
Mr Ahern's political challenges, too, are both complicated and connected. And they are all the more problematic for that. For example, the questions raised about Mr Burke are not confined to the wisdom of accepting a substantial contribution from a supporter in the building industry at election time.
Commentators and opponents alike are led to other questions - about Mr Ahern's judgment in his choice of ministers and, in Mr Burke's case, about likely distractions from pressing affairs.
Mary Holland reminded the Taoiseach in these columns the other day that the McCracken report will be debated in the Dail just at the time when Mr Burke should be giving his undivided attention to negotiations in Belfast.
It's not simply a case of unfortunate timing. It's a result of bad judgment during and after an election campaign in which the Fianna Fail leader travelled fast and light and said as little of substance as he could manage.
The question of what to do with Mr Reynolds was another to which too little attention was paid. He has shown himself ill-suited to diplomacy and poorly equipped for the Presidency. But, instead of being urged to enjoy a well-deserved retirement, he was clearly left under the impression that he still had an important part to play in Irish politics.
The consequences are confusion and embarrassment all round. Cluskey had a point: when silence and cunning fail you, exile may be the only way out.