CHIEF. You're humbugging, you idler! It's no use your talking about the others. They've got hold of the merchants, the nobles, and the women, because they knew how to treat them, and invented new traps for them! The official one there--he has made quite a new departure. You must think of something too! You've stolen a crust, and brag about it! What a clever thing to do! Surround them with snares, and they'll get caught in one or other of them. But loafing about as you do, and leaving the way open for them, those peasants of yours have gained strength. They begin not to care about their last crust. If they take to such ways, and teach their women the same, they'll get quite beyond us! Invent something! Get out of the hole as best you can. PEASANTS' IMP. I can't think how to set about it. Let me off! I can stand it no longer! CHIEF [angrily] Can't stand it! What do you think, then? Am I to do your work for you? PEASANTS' IMP. I can't! CHIEF. Can't? Wait a bit! Hollo, there! bring the switches; give him a thrashing. The Sentinels seize the Imp and whip him. PEASANTS' IMP. Oh! Oh! Oh!... CHIEF. Have you thought of something? PEASANTS' IMP. Oh, oh, I can't! CHIEF. Give him some more. [They whip] Well--thought of something? PEASANTS' IMP. Yes--yes, I have! CHIEF. Well, tell us what it is. PEASANTS' IMP. I've invented a dodge that will bring them all into my grasp, if you'll only let me take a labourer's place with that peasant. But I can't explain what it is beforehand. CHIEF. All right. Only remember, that if you don't atone for that crust within three years, I'll flay you alive! PEASANTS' IMP. They'll all be mine in three years' time. CHIEF. All right. When the three years are past, I shall come and see for myself! Curtain. ACT III A barn. Carts loaded with grain. The Imp as a Labourer. He is shovelling grain off the cart, and the Peasant is carrying it away in a measure. LABOURER. Seven! PEASANT. How many quarters? LABOURER [looks at the numbers marked on the barn door] Twenty-six quarters. And this is the seventh bushel of the twenty-seventh quarter. PEASANT. It won't all go in; the barn is nearly full! LABOURER. Shovel it nice and even. PEASANT. So I will. Exit with measure. LABOURER [alone, takes off his cap, his horns appear] It will be some time before he returns. I'll ease my horns a bit. [Horns rise] And I'll take my boots off too; I can't do it when he's here. [Takes his boots off, his hoofs appear. Sits on the threshold] It's the third year now. It's near the time of reckoning. There's more corn than there's room for. Only one more thing left to teach him, and then let the Chief come and see for himself. I'll have something worth showing him! He'll forgive me for that crust! Neighbour approaches. Labourer hides his horns and hoofs. NEIGHBOUR. Good day to you. LABOURER. The same to you. NEIGHBOUR. Where's your master?