stroke of twelve. Most of the waiting work-people have the air of
standing before the bar of justice, in torturing expectation of a
decision that means life or death to them. They are marked too by the
anxious timidity characteristic of the receiver of charity, who has
suffered many humiliations, and, conscious that he is barely
tolerated, has acquired the habit of self-effacement. Add to this a
rigid expression on every face that tells of constant, fruitless
brooding. There is a general resemblance among the men. They have
something about them of the dwarf, something of the schoolmaster. The
majority are flat-breasted, short-minded, sallow, and poor
looking--creatures of the loom, their knees bent with much silting.
At a, first glance the women show fewer typical traits. They look
over-driven, worried, reckless, whereas the men still make some show
of a pitiful self-respect; and their clothes are ragged, while the
men's are patched and mended. Some of the young girls are not without
a certain charm, consisting in a wax-like pallor, a slender figure,
and large, projecting, melancholy eyes._
NEUMANN
[_Counting out money._] Comes to one and seven-pence halfpenny.
WEAVER'S WIFE
[_About thirty, emaciated, takes up the money with trembling fingers._]
Thank you, sir.
NEUMANN
[_Seeing that she does not move on._] Well, something wrong this time,
too?
WEAVER'S WIFE
[_Agitated, imploringly._] Do you think I might have a few pence in
advance, sir? I need it that bad.
NEUMANN
And I need a few pounds. If it was only a question of needing it--!
[_Already occupied in counting out another weaver's money, gruffly._]
It's Mr. Dreissiger who settles about pay in advance.
WEAVER'S WIFE
Couldn't I speak to Mr. Dreissiger himself, then, sir?
PFEIFER
[_Now manager, formerly weaver. The type is unmistakable, only he is well
fed, well dressed, clean shaven; also takes snuff copiously. He calls out
roughly._] Mr. Dreissiger would have enough to do if he had to attend to
every trifle himself. That's what we are here for. [_He measures, and
then examines through the magnifying-glass._] Mercy on us! what a
draught! [_Puts a thick muffler round his neck._] Shut the door, whoever
comes in.
APPRENTICE
[_Loudly to PFEIFER._] You might as well talk to stocks and stones.
PFEIFER
That's done!--Weigh! [_The weaver places his web on the scales._] If you
only understood your business a little better! Full of lumps again.... I
hardly need to look at the cloth to see them. Call yourself a weaver, and
"draw as long a bow" as you've done there!
_BECKER has entered. A young, exceptionally powerfully-built weaver;
offhand, almost bold in manner. PFEIFER, NEUMANN, and the APPRENTICE
exchange looks of mutual understanding as he comes in._
BECKER
Devil take it! This is a sweatin' job, and no mistake.
FIRST WEAVER
[_In a low voice._] This blazin' heat means rain.
[_OLD BAUMERT forces his way in at the glass door on the right,
through which the crowd of weavers can be seen, standing shoulder to
shoulder, waiting their turn. The old man stumbles forward and lays
his bundle on the bench, beside BECKER'S. He sits down by it, and
wipes the sweat from his face._
OLD BAUMERT
A man has a right to a rest after that.
BECKER
Rest's better than money.
OLD BAUMERT
Yes, but we _needs_ the money too. Good mornin' to you, Becker!
BECKER
Mornin', father Baumert! Goodness knows how long we'll have to stand here
again.
FIRST WEAVER
That don't matter. What's to hinder a weaver waitin' for an hour, or for
a day? What else is he there for?
PFEIFER
Silence there! We can't hear our own voices.
BECKER
[_In a low voice._] This is one of his bad days.
PFEIFER
[_To the weaver standing before him._] How often have I told you that you
must bring cleaner cloth? What sort of mess is this? Knots, and straw,
and all kinds of dirt.
REIMANN
It's for want of a new picker, sir.
APPRENTICE
[_Has weighed the piece._] Short weight, too.
PFEIFER
I never saw such weavers. I hate to give out the yarn to them. It was
another story in my day! I'd have caught it finely from my master for
work like that. The business was carried on in different style then. A
man had to know his trade--that's the last thing that's thought of
nowadays. Reimann, one shilling.
REIMANN
But there's always a pound allowed for waste.
PFEIFER
I've no time. Next man!--What have you to show?
HEIBER
[_Lays his web on the table. While PFEIFER is examining it, he goes close
up to him; eagerly in a low tone._] Beg pardon, Mr. Pfeifer, but I wanted
to ask you, sir, if you would perhaps be so very kind an' do me the
favour an' not take my advance money off this week's pay.
PFEIFER
[_Measuring and examining the texture; jeeringly._] Well! What next, I
wonder? This looks very much as if half the weft had stuck to the bobbins
again.
HEIBER
[_Continues._] I'll be sure to make it all right next week, sir. But this
last week I've had to put in two days' work on the estate. And my missus
is ill in bed....
PFEIFER
[_Giving the web to be weighed._] Another piece of real slop-work.
[_Already examining a new web._] What a selvage! Here it's broad, there
it's narrow; here it's drawn in by the wefts goodness knows how tight,
and there it's torn out again by the temples. And hardly seventy threads
weft to the inch. What's come of the rest? Do you call this honest work?
I never saw anything like it.
[_HEIBER, repressing tears, stands humiliated and helpless._
BECKER
[_In a low voice to BAUMERT._] To please that brute you'd have to pay for
extra yarn out o' your own pocket.
WEAVER'S WIFE
[_Who has remained standing near the cashier's table, from time to time
looking round appealingly, takes courage and once more turns imploringly
to the cashier._] I don't know what's to come o' me, sir, if you won't
give me a little advance this time ... O Lord, O Lord!
PFEIFER
[_Calls across._] It's no good whining, or dragging the Lord's name into
the matter. You're not so anxious about Him at other times. You look
after your husband and see that he's not to be found so often lounging in
the public-house. We can give no pay in advance. We have to account for
every penny. It's not our money. People that are industrious, and
understand their work, and do it in the fear of God, never need their pay
in advance. So now you know.
NEUMANN
If a Bielau weaver got four times as much pay, he would squander it four
times over and be in debt into the bargain.
WEAVER'S WIFE
[_In a loud voice, as if appealing to the general sense of justice._] No
one can't call me idle, but I'm not fit now for what I once was. I've
twice had a miscarriage. And as to John, he's but a poor creature. He's
been to the shepherd at Zerlau, but he couldn't do him no good, and ...
you can't do more than you've strength for.... We works as hard as ever
we can. This many a week I've been at it till far on into the night. An'
we'll keep our heads above water right enough if I can just get a bit o'
strength into me. But you must have pity on us, Mr. Pfeifer, sir.
[_Eagerly, coaxingly._] You'll please be so very kind as to let me have a
few pence on the next job, sir?
PFEIFER
[_Paying no attention._] Fiedler, one and twopence.
WEAVER'S WIFE
Only a few pence, to buy bread with. We can't get no more credit. We've a
lot o' little ones.
NEUMANN
[_Half aside to the APPRENTICE, in a serio-comic-tone._] "Every year
brings a child to the linen-weaver's wife, heigh-ho, heigh-ho, heigh."
APPRENTICE
[_Takes up the rhyme, half singing._] "And the little brat it's blind the
first weeks of its life, heigh-ho, heigh-ho, heigh."
REIMANN
[_Not touching the money which the cashier has counted out to him._]
We've always got one and fourpence for the web.
PFEIFER
[_Calls across._] If our terms don't suit you, Reimann, you have only to
say so. There's no scarcity of weavers--especially of your sort. For full
weight we give full pay.
REIMANN
How anything can be wrong with the weight o' this...!
PFEIFER
You bring a piece of fustian with no faults in it, and there will be no
fault in the pay.
REIMANN
It's clean impossible that there's too many knots in this web.
PFEIFER
[_Examining._] If you want to live well, then be sure you weave well.
HEIBER
[_Has remained standing near PFEIFER, so as to seize on any favourable
opportunity. He laughs at PFEIFER'S little witticism, then steps forward
and again addresses him._] I wanted to ask you, sir, if you would perhaps
have the great kindness not to take my advance of sixpence off to-day's
pay? My missus has been bedridden since February, She can't do a hand's
turn for me, an' I've to pay a bobbin girl. An' so ...
PFEIFER
[_Takes a pinch of snuff._] Heiber do you think I have no one to attend
to but you? The others must have their turn.
REIMANN
As the warp was given me I took it home and fastened it to the beam. I
can't bring back no better yarn than I gets.
PFEIFER
If you're not satisfied, you need come for no more. There are plenty
ready to tramp the soles off their shoes to get it.
NEUMANN
[_To REIMANN._] Don't you want your money?
REIMANN
I can't bring myself to take such pay.
NEUMANN
[_Paying no further attention to REIMANN._] Heiber, one shilling. Deduct
sixpence for pay it advance. Leaves sixpence.
HEIBER
[_Goes up to the table, looks at the money, stands shaking his head as if
unable to believe his eyes, then slowly takes it up._] Well, I never!--
[_Sighing._] Oh dear, oh dear!
OLD BAUMERT
[_Looking into HEIBER'S face._] Yes, Franz, that's so! There's matter
enough for sighing.
HEIBER
[_Speaking with difficulty._] I've a girl lyin' sick at home too, an' she
needs a bottle of medicine.
OLD BAUMERT
What's wrong with her?
HEIBER
Well, you see, she's always been a sickly bit of a thing. I don't know
... I needn't mind tellin' you--she brought her trouble with her. It's in
her blood, and it breaks out here, there, and everywhere.
OLD BAUMERT
It's always the way. Let folks be poor, and one trouble comes to them on
the top of another. There's no help for it and there's no end to it.
HEIBER
What are you carryin' in that cloth, fatter. Baumert?
OLD BAUMERT
We haven't so much as a bite in the house, and so I've had the little dog
killed. There's not much on him, for the poor beast was half starved. A
nice little dog he was! I couldn't kill him myself. I hadn't the heart to
do it.
PFEIFER
[_Has inspected BECKER'S web and calls._] Becker, one and threepence.
BECKER
That's what you might give to a beggar; it's not pay.
PFEIFER
Every one who has been attended to must clear out. We haven't room to
turn round in.
BECKER
[_To those standing near, without lowering his voice._] It's a beggarly
pittance, nothing else. A man works his treadle from early morning till
late at night, an' when he's bent over his loom for days an' days, tired
to death every evening, sick with the dust and the heat, he finds he's
made a beggarly one and threepence!
PFEIFER
No impudence allowed here.
BECKER
If you think I'll hold my tongue for your tellin', you're much mistaken.
PFEIFER
[_Exclaims._] We'll see about that! [_Rushes to the glass door and calls
into the office._] Mr. Dreissiger, Mr. Dreissiger, will you be good
enough to come here?
_Enter DREISSIGER. About forty, full-bodied, asthmatic. Looks
severe._
DREISSIGER
What is it, Pfeifer?
PFEIFER
[_Spitefully._] Becker says he won't be told to hold his tongue.
DREISSIGER
[_Draws himself up, throws back his head, stares at BECKER; his nostrils
tremble._] Oh, indeed!--Becker. [_To PFEIFER.] Is he the man?...
[_The clerks nod._
BECKER
[_Insolently._] Yes, Mr. Dreissiger, yes! [_Pointing to himself._] This
is the man. [_Pointing to DREISSIGER._] And that's a man too!
DREISSIGER
[_Angrily._] Fellow, how dare you?
PFEIFER
He's too well off. He'll go dancing on the ice once too often, though.
BECKER
[_Recklessly._] You shut up, you Jack-in-the-box. Your mother must have
gone dancing once too often with Satan to have got such a devil for a
son.
DREISSIGER
[_Now in a violent passion, roars._] Hold your tongue this moment, sir,
or ...
[_He trembles and takes a fere steps forward._
BECKER
[_Holding his ground steadily._] I'm not deaf. My hearing's quite good
yet.
DREISSIGER
[_Controls himself, asks in an apparently cool business tone._] Was this
fellow not one of the pack...?
PFEIFER
He's a Bielau weaver. When there's any mischief going, they're sure to be
in it.
DREISSIGER
[_Trembling._] Well, I give you all warning: if the same thing happens
again as last night--a troop of half-drunken cubs marching past my
windows singing that low song ...
BECKER
Is it "Bloody Justice" you mean?
DREISSIGER
You know well enough what I mean. I tell you that if I hear it again I'll
get hold of one of you, and--mind, I'm not joking--before the justice he
shall go. And if I can find out who it was that made up that vile
doggerel ...
BECKER
It's a grand song, that's what it is!
DREISSIGER
Another word and I send for the police on the spot, without more ado.
I'll make short work with you young fellows. I've got the better of very
different men before now.
BECKER
I believe you there. A real thoroughbred manufacturer will get the better
of two or three hundred weavers in the time it takes you to turn
round--swallow 'em up, and not leave as much as a bone. He's got four
stomachs like a cow, and teeth like a wolf. That's nothing to him at all!
DREISSIGER
[_To his clerks._] That man gets no more work from us.
BECKER
It's all the same to me whether I starve at my loom or by the roadside.
DREISSIGER
Out you go, then, this moment!
BECKER
[_Determinedly._] Not without my pay.
DREISSIGER
How much is owing to the fellow, Neumann?
NEUMANN
One and threepence.
DREISSIGER
[_Takes the money hurriedly ont of the cashier's hand, and flings it on
the table, so that some of the coins roll off on to the floor._] There
you are, then; and now, out of my sight with you!
BECKER
Not without my pay.
DREISSIGER
Don't you see it lying there? If you don't take it and go ... It's
exactly twelve now ... The dyers are coming out for their dinner ...
BECKER
I gets my pay into my hand--here--that's where!
[_Points with the fingers of his right hand at the palm of his left._
DREISSIGER
[_To the APPRENTICE._] Pick up the money, Tilgner.
[_The APPRENTICE lifts the money and puts it into BECKER'S hand._
BECKER
Everything in proper order.
[_Deliberately takes an old purse out of his pocket and puts the
money into it._
DREISSIGER
[_As BECKER still does not move away._] Well? Do you want me to come and
help you?
[_Signs of agitation are observable among the crowd of weavers. A
long, loud sigh is heard, and then a fall. General interest is at
once diverted to this new event._
DREISSIGER
What's the matter there?
CHORUS OF WEAVERS AND WOMEN
"Some one's fainted."--"It's a little sickly boy."--"Is it a fit, or what?"
DREISSIGER
What do you say? Fainted?
[_He goes nearer._
OLD WEAVER
There he lies, any way.
[_They make room. A boy of about eight is seen lying on the floor as
if dead._
DREISSIGER
Does any one know the boy?
OLD WEAVER
He's not from our village.
OLD BAUMERT
He's like one of weaver Heinrich's boys. [_Looks at him more closely._]
Yes, that's Heinrich's little Philip.
DREISSIGER
Where do they live?
OLD BAUMERT
Up near us in Kaschbach, sir. He goes round playin' music in the
evenings, and all day he's at the loom. They've nine children an' a tenth
a coming.
CHORUS OF WEAVERS AND WOMEN
"They're terrible put to it."--"The rain comes through their roof."--"The
woman hasn't two shirts among the nine."
OLD BAUMERT
[_Taking the boy by the arm._] Now then, lad, what's wrong with you? Wake
up, lad.
DREISSIGER
Some of you help me, and we'll get him up. It's disgraceful to send a
sickly child this distance. Bring some water, Pfeifer.
WOMAN
[_Helping to lift the boy._] Sure you're not goin' to be foolish and die,
lad!
DREISSIGER
Brandy, Pfeifer, brandy will be better.
BECKER
[_Forgotten by all, has stood looking on. With his hand on the
door-latch, he now calls loudly and tauntingly._] Give him something to
eat, an' he'll soon be all right.
[_Goes out._
DREISSIGER
That fellow will come to a bad end.--Take him under the arm, Neumann.
Easy now, easy; we'll get him into my room. What?
NEUMANN
He said something, Mr. Dreissiger. His lips are moving.
DREISSIGER
What--what is it, boy?
BOY
[_Whispers._] I'm h-hungry.
WOMAN
I think he says--
DREISSIGER
We'll find out. Don't stop. Let us get him into my room. He can lie on
the sofa there, We'll hear what the doctor says.
_DREISSIGER, NEUMANN, and the woman lead the boy into the office. The
weavers begin to behave like school-children when their master has
left the classroom. They stretch themselves, whisper, move from one
foot to the other, and in the course of a few moments are conversing
loudly._
OLD BAUMERT
I believe as how Becker was right.
CHORUS OF WEAVERS AND WOMEN
"He did say something like that."--"It's nothin' new here to fall down
from hunger."--"God knows what's to come of 'em in winter if this cuttin'
down o' wages goes on."--"An' this year the potatoes aren't no good at
all."--"Things'll get worse and worse till we're all done for together."
OLD BAUMERT
The best thing a man could do would be to put a rope round his neck and
hang hisself on his own loom, like weaver Nentwich. [_To another old
weaver._] Here, take a pinch. I was at Neurode yesterday. My
brother-in-law, he works in the snuff factory there, and he give me a
grain or two. Have you anything good in your kerchief?
OLD WEAVER
Only a little pearl barley. I was coming along behind Ulbrich the
miller's cart, and there was a slit in one of the sacks. I can tell you
we'll be glad of it.
OLD BAUMERT
There's twenty-two mills in Peterswaldau, but of all they grind, there's
never nothin' comes our way.
OLD WEAVER
We must keep up heart. There's always somethin' comes to help us on
again.
HEIBER
Yes, when we're hungry, we can pray to all the saints to help us, and if
that don't fill our bellies we can put a pebble in our mouths and suck
it. Eh, Baumert?
_Re-enter DREISSIGER, PFEIFER, AND NEUMANN._
DREISSIGER
It was nothing serious. The boy is all right again. [_Walks about
excitedly, panting._] But all the same it's a disgrace. The child's so
weak that a puff of wind would blow him over. How people, how any parents
can be so thoughtless is what passes my comprehension. Loading him with
two heavy pieces of fustian to carry six good miles! No one would believe
it that hadn't seen it. It simply means that I shall have to make a rule
that no goods brought by children will be taken over. [_He walks up and
down silently for a few moments._] I sincerely trust such a thing will
not occur again.--Who gets all the blame for it? Why, of course the
manufacturer. It's entirely our fault. If some poor little fellow sticks
in the snow in winter and goes to sleep, a special correspondent arrives
post-haste, and in two days we have a blood-curdling story served up in
all the papers. Is any blame laid on the father, the parents, that send
such a child?--Not a bit of it. How should they be to blame? It's all the
manufacturer's fault--he's made the scapegoat. They flatter the weaver,
and give the manufacturer nothing but abuse--he's a cruel man, with a
heart like a stone, a dangerous fellow, at whose calves every cur of a
journalist may take a bite. He lives on the fat of the land, and pays the
poor weavers starvation wages. In the flow of his eloquence the writer
forgets to mention that such a man has his cares too and his sleepless
nights; that he runs risks of which the workman never dreams; that he is
often driven distracted by all the calculations he has to make, and all
the different things he has to take into account; that he has to struggle
for his very life against competition; and that no day passes without
some annoyance or some loss. And think of the manufacturer's
responsibilities, think of the numbers that depend on him, that look to
him for their daily bread. No, No! none of you need wish yourselves in my
shoes--you would soon have enough of it. [_After a moment's reflection._]
You all saw how that fellow, that scoundrel Becker, behaved. Now he'll go
and spread about all sorts of tales of my hard-heartedness, of how my
weavers are turned off for a mere trifle, without a moment's notice. Is
that true? Am I so very unmerciful?
CHORUS OF VOICES
No, sir.
DREISSIGER
It doesn't seem to me that I am. And yet these ne'er-do-wells come round
singing low songs about us manufacturers--prating about hunger, with
enough in their pockets to pay for quarts of bad brandy. If they would
like to know what want is, let them go and ask the linen-weavers: they
can tell something about it. But you here, you fustian-weavers, have
every reason to thank God that things are no worse than they are. And I
put it to all the old, industrious weavers present: Is a good workman
able to gain a living in my employment, or is he not?
MANY VOICES
Yes, sir; he is, sir.
DREISSIGER
There now! You see! Of course such a fellow as that Becker can't. I
advise you to keep these young lads in check. If there's much more of
this sort of thing, I'll shut up shop--give up the business altogether,
and then you can shift for yourselves, get work where you like--perhaps
Mr. Becker will provide it.
FIRST WEAVER'S WIFE
[_Has come close to DREISSIGER, and removes a little dust from his coat
with creeping servility._] You've been an' rubbed agin something, sir.
DREISSIGER
Business is as bad as it can be just now, you know that yourselves.
Instead of making money, I am losing it every day. If, in spite of this,
I take care that my weavers are kept in work, I look for some little
gratitude from them. I have thousands of pieces of cloth in stock, and
don't know if I'll ever be able to sell them. Well, now, I've heard how
many weavers hereabouts are out of work, and--I'll leave Pfeifer to give
the particulars--but this much I'll tell you, just to show you my good
will.... I can't deal out charity all round; I'm not rich enough for
that; but I can give the people who are out of work the chance of earning
at any rate a little. It's a great business risk I run by doing it, but
that's my affair. I say to myself: Better that a man should work for a
bite of bread than that, he should starve altogether, Am I not right?
CHORUS OF VOICES
Yes, yes, sir.
DREISSIGER
And therefore I am ready to give employment to two hundred more weavers.
Pfeifer will tell you on what conditions.
[_He turns to go._
FIRST WEAVER'S WIFE
[_Comes between him and the door, speaks hurriedly, eagerly,
imploringly._] Oh, if you please, sir, will you let me ask you if you'll
be so good ... I've been twice laid up for ...
DREISSIGER
[_Hastily._] Speak to Pfeifer, good woman. I'm too late as it is.
[_Passes on, leaving her standing._
REIMANN
[_Stops him again. In an injured, complaining tone._] I have a complaint
to make, if you please, sir. Mr. Pfeifer refuses to ... I've always got
one and two-pence for a web ...
DREISSIGER
[_Interrupts him._] Mr. Pfeifer's my manager. There he is. Apply to him.
HEIBER
[_Detaining DREISSIGER; hurriedly and confusedly._] O sir, I wanted to
ask if you would p'r'aps, if I might p'r'aps ... if Mr. Pfeifer might ...
might ...
DREISSIGER
What is it you want?
HEIBER
That advance pay I had last time, sir; I thought p'r'aps you would kindly
...
DREISSIGER
I have no idea what you are talking about.
HEIBER
I'm awful hard up, sir, because ...
DREISSIGER
These are things Pfeifer must look into--I really have not the time.
Arrange the matter with Pfeifer.
[_He escapes into the office._
[_The supplicants look helplessly at one another, sigh, and take
their places again among the others._
PFEIFER
[_Resuming his task of inspection._] Well, Annie, let as see what yours
is like.
OLD BAUMERT
How much is we to get for the web, then, Mr. Pfeifer?
PFEIFER
One shilling a web.
OLD BAUMERT
Has it come to that!
[_Excited whispering and murmuring among the weavers._
END OF THE FIRST ACT
THE SECOND ACT
_A small room in the house of WILHELM ANSORGE, weaver and cottager in
the village of Kaschbach, in the Eulengebirge._
_In this room, which does not measure six feet from the dilapidated
wooden floor to the smoke-blackened rafters, sit four people. Two
young girls, EMMA and BERTHA BAUMERT, are working at their looms;
MOTHER BAUMERT, a decrepit old woman, sits on a stool beside the bed,
with a winding-wheel in front of her; her idiot son AUGUST sits on a
foot-stool, also winding. He is twenty, has a small body and head,
and long, spider-like legs and arms._