(_They eat the food which the soldier has brought, but the old man Baumert is too far exhausted to retain it, and has to run from the room. He comes back crying with rage._) BAUMERT:--It's no good! I'm too far gone! Now that I've at last got hold of somethin' with a taste in it, my stomach won't keep it. (_He sits down on the bench by the stove crying._) MORITZ (_with a sudden violent ebullition of rage_):--And yet there are people not far from here, justices they call themselves too, over-fed brutes, that have nothing to do all the year round but invent new ways of wasting their time. And these people say that the weavers would be quite well off if only they weren't so lazy. ANSORGE:--The men as say that are no men at all, they're monsters. MORITZ:--Never mind, Father Ansorge; we're making the place hot for 'em. Becker and I have been and given Dreissiger (_the master_) a piece of our mind, and before we came away we sang him "Bloody Justice." ANSORGE:--Good Lord! Is that the song? MORITZ:--Yes; I have it here. ANSORGE:--They call it Dreissiger's song, don't they? MORITZ:--I'll read it to you. MOTHER BAUMERT:--Who wrote it? MORITZ:--That's what nobody knows. Now listen. (_He reads, hesitating like a schoolboy, with incorrect accentuation, but unmistakably strong feeling. Despair, suffering, rage, hatred, thirst for revenge, all find utterance._) The justice to us weavers dealt Is bloody, cruel, and hateful; Our life's one torture, long drawn out: For lynch law we'd be grateful. Stretched on the rack day after day, Hearts sick and bodies aching, Our heavy sighs their witness bear To spirit slowly breaking. (_The words of the song make a strong impression on Old Baumert. Deeply agitated, he struggles against the temptation to interrupt Moritz. At last he can keep quiet no longer._) OLD BAUMERT (_to his wife, half laughing, half crying, stammering_):--"Stretched on the rack day after day." Whoever wrote that, mother, knew the truth. You can bear witness ... eh, how does it go? "Our heavy sighs their witness bear" ... what's the rest? MORITZ:--"To spirit slowly breaking." OLD BAUMERT:--You know the way we sigh, mother, day and night, sleepin' an' wakin'. (_Ansorge has stopped working, and cowers on the floor, strongly agitated. Mother Baumert and Bertha wipe their eyes frequently during the course of the reading._) MORITZ (_continues to read_):-- The Dreissigers true hangmen are, Servants no whit behind them; Masters and men with one accord Set on the poor to grind them. You villains all, you brood of hell---- OLD BAUMERT (_trembling with rage, stamping on the floor_):--Yes, brood of hell!!! MORITZ (_reads_):-- You fiends in fashion human, A curse will fall on all like you, Who prey on man and woman. ANSORGE:--Yes, yes, a curse upon them! OLD BAUMERT (_clenching his fist, threateningly_):--You prey on man and woman. MORITZ (_reads_):--