Rot! How could it be done peaceably? Did they do it peaceably in France? Did Robespeer tickle the rich men's palms? No! It was: Away with them, every one! To the gilyoteen with 'em! Allongs onfong! You've got your work before you. The geese'll not fly ready roasted into your mouths. OLD BAUMERT If I could make even half a livin' ... FIRST OLD WEAVER The water's up to our chins now, Wittig. SECOND OLD WEAVER We're afraid to go home. It's all the same whether we works or whether we lies abed; it's starvation both ways. FIRST OLD WEAVER A man's like to go mad at home. OLD ANSORGE I've come to that pass now that I don't care how things goes. OLD WEAVERS [_With increasing excitement._] "We've no peace anywhere."--"We've no spirit left to work."--"Up with us in Steenkunzendorf you can see a weaver sittin' by the stream washin' hisself the whole day long, naked as God made him. It's driven him clean out of his mind." THIRD OLD WEAVER [_Moved by the spirit, stands up and begins to "speak with tongues," stretching out his hand threateningly._] Judgement is at hand! Have no dealings with the rich and the great! Judgement is at hand! The Lord God of Sabaoth ... [_Some of the weavers laugh. He is pulled down on to his seat._ WELZEL That's a chap that can't stand a single glass--he gets wild at once. THIRD OLD WEAVER [_Jumps up again._] But they--they believe not in God, not in hell, not in heaven. They mock at religion.... FIRST OLD WEAVER Come, come now, that's enough! BECKER You let him do his little bit o' preaching. There's many a one would be the better for takin' it to heart. VOICES [_In excited confusion._] "Let him alone!" "Let him speak!" THIRD OLD WEAVER [_Raising his voice._] But hell is opened, saith the Lord; its jaws are gaping wide, to swallow up all those that oppress the afflicted and pervert judgement in the cause of the poor. [_Wild excitement._] THIRD OLD WEAVER [_Suddenly declaiming schoolboy fashion._] When one has thought upon it well, It's still more difficult to tell Why they the linen-weaver's work despise. BECKER But we're fustian-weavers, man. [_Laughter._ HORNIG The linen-weavers is ever so much worse off than you. They're wanderin' about among the hills like ghosts. You people here have still got the pluck left in you to kick up a row. WITTIG Do you suppose the worst's over here? It won't be long till the manufacturers drain away that little bit of strength they still has left in their bodies. BECKER You know what he said: It will come to the weavers workin' for a bite of bread. [_Uproar._ SEVERAL OLD AND YOUNG WEAVERS Who said that? BECKER Dreissiger said it. A YOUNG WEAVER The damned rascal should be hung up by the heels. JAEGER