[_GOTTLIEB comes in, and he and his father set themselves to the troublesome task of "drawing and slaying," that is, pulling the strands of the warp through the "heddles" and "reed" of the loom. They have hardly begun to do this when HORNIG appears in the outer room._ HORNIG [_At the door._] Good luck to your work! HILSE AND HIS SON Thank you, Hornig. OLD HILSE I say, Hornig, when do you take your sleep? You're on your rounds all day, an' on watch all night. HORNIG Sleep's gone from me nowadays. LUISE Glad to see you, Hornig! OLD HILSE An' what's the news? HORNIG It's queer news this mornin'. The weavers at Peterswaldau has taken the law into their own hands, an' chased Dreissiger an' his whole family out of the place. LUISE [_Perceptibly agitated._] Hornig's at his lies again. HORNIG No, missus, not this time, not to-day.--I've some beautiful pinafores in my cart,--No, it's God's truth I'm tellin' you. They've sent him to the right-about. He came down to Reichenbach last night, but, Lord love you! they daren't take him in there, for fear of the weavers--off he had to go again, all the way to Schweidnitz. OLD HILSE [_Has been carefully lifting threads of the web and approaching them to the holes, through which, from the other side, GOTTLIEB pushes a wire hook, with which he catches them and draws them through._] It's about time you were stoppin' now, Hornig! HORNIG It's as sure as I'm a livin' man. Every child in the place'll soon tell you the same story. OLD HILSE Either your wits are a-wool-gatherin' or mine are. HORNIG Not mine. What I'm tellin' you's as true as the Bible. I wouldn't believe it myself if I hadn't stood there an' seen it with my own eyes--as I see you now, Gottlieb. They've wrecked his house from the cellar to the roof. The good china came flyin' out at the garret windows, rattlin' down the roof. God only knows how many pieces of fustian are lying soakin' in the river! The water can't get away for them--it's running over the banks, the colour of washin'-blue with all the indigo they've poured out at the windows. Clouds of sky-blue dust was flyin' along. Oh, it's a terrible destruction they've worked! And it's not only the house ... it's the dye-works too ... an' the stores! They've broken the stair rails, they've torn up the fine flooring--smashed the lookin'-glasses--cut an' hacked an' torn an' smashed the sofas an' the chairs.--It's awful--it's worse than war. OLD HILSE An' you would have me believe that my fellow weavers did all that? [_He shakes his head incredulously._ [_Other tenants of the house have collected at the door and are listening eagerly._ HORNIG