PEASANT. But how can one do without it? We didn't start the custom, and it's not for us to stop it.... There are the Church feasts, and weddings, and memorial feasts, and bargains to be wetted with a drink.... Whether one likes it or not, one can't get on without it. It's the custom! TRAVELLER. But there are people who never drink, and yet they manage to live! After all, there's not much good in it. PEASANT. No good at all! Only evil! TRAVELLER. Then one ought not to drink. PEASANT. Well, anyhow, drink or no drink, we've nothing to live on! We've not enough land. If we had land we could at least live ... but there's none to be had. TRAVELLER. No land to be had? Why, isn't there plenty of land? Wherever one looks, one sees land! PEASANT. There's land, right enough, but it's not ours. Your elbow's not far from your mouth, but just you try to bite it! TRAVELLER. Not yours! Whose is it, then? PEASANT. Whose?... Whose, indeed! There's that fat-bellied devil over there ... he's seized 5000 acres. He has no family, but he's never satisfied, while we've had to give up keeping fowls--there's nowhere for them to run about! It's nearly time for us to stop keeping cattle, too ... we've no fodder for them; and if a calf, or maybe a horse, happens to stray into his field, we have to pay fines and give him our last farthing. TRAVELLER. What does he want all that land for? PEASANT. What does he want the land for? Why, of course, he sows and reaps and sells, and puts the money in the bank. TRAVELLER. How can he plough a stretch like that, and get his harvest in? PEASANT. You talk as if you were a child!... What's he got money for, if not to hire labourers?... It's they that do the ploughing and reaping. TRAVELLER. These labourers are some of you peasants, I expect? PEASANT. Some are from these parts, and some from elsewhere. TRAVELLER. Anyway, they are peasants? PEASANT. Of course they are!... the same as ourselves. Who but a peasant ever works? Of course they are peasants. TRAVELLER. And if the peasants did not go and work for him...? PEASANT. Go or stay, he wouldn't let us have it. If the land were to lie idle, he'd not part with it! Like the dog in the manger, that doesn't eat the hay himself and won't let others eat it! TRAVELLER. But how can he keep his land? I suppose it stretches over some three or four miles? How can he watch it all? PEASANT. How queer you talk! He himself lies on his back, and fattens his paunch; but he keeps watchmen! TRAVELLER. And those watchmen, I dare say, are also peasants? PEASANT. What else could they be? Of course they are! TRAVELLER. So that the peasants work the rich man's land for him, and guard it for him from themselves? PEASANT. But how can one help it? TRAVELLER. Simply by not going to work for him, and not being his watchmen! Then the land would be free. The land is God's, and the people are God's; let him who needs it, plough and sow and gather in the harvest!