money.... Such utter nonsense! I'd much rather you kept your money. Be a
good man, be a Christian! Think of what you promised. Keep God's law.
Money, money...!
JAEGER
I'm a Quaker now, sir. I don't believe in nothing.
KITTELHAUS
Quaker! What are you talking about? Try to behave yourself, and don't use
words you don't understand. Quaker, indeed! They are good Christian
people, and not heathens like you.
SUPERINTENDENT
Mr. Kittelhaus, I must ask you.... [_He comes between the Pastor and
JAEGER._] Kutsche! tie his hands!
[_Wild yelling outside:_ "Jaeger. Jaeger! come out!"
DREISSIGER
[_Like the others, slightly startled, goes instinctively to the window._]
What's the meaning of this next?
SUPERINTENDENT
Oh, I understand well enough. It means that they want to have the
blackguard out among them again. But we're not going to oblige them.
Kutsche, you have your orders. He goes to the lock-up.
KUTSCHE
[_With the rope in his hand, hesitating._] By your leave, sir, but it'll
not be an easy job. There's a confounded big crowd out there--a pack of
raging devils. They've got Becker with them, and the smith....
KITTELHAUS
Allow me one more word!--So as not to rouse still worse feeling, would it
not be better if we tried to arrange things peaceably? Perhaps Jaeger
will give his word to go with us quietly, or....
SUPERINTENDENT
Quite impossible! Think of my responsibility. I couldn't allow such a
thing. Come, Kutsche! lose no more time.
JAEGER
[_Putting his hands together, and holding them, out._] Tight, tight, as
tight as ever you can! It's not for long.
[_KUTSCHE, assisted by the workmen, ties his hands._
SUPERINTENDENT
Now off with you, march! [_To DREISSIGER._] If you feel anxious, let six
of the weavers go with them. They can walk on each side of him, I'll ride
in front, and Kutsche will bring up the rear. Whoever blocks the way will
be cut down.
[_Cries from below:_ "Cock-a-doodle-doo-oo-oo! Bow, wow, wow!"
SUPERINTENDENT
[_With a threatening gesture in the direction of the window._] You
rascals, I'll cock-a-doodle-doo and bow-wow you! Forward! March!
[_He marches out first, with drawn sword; the others, with JAEGER,
follow._
JAEGER
[_Shouts as he goes._] An' Mrs. Dreissiger there may play the lady as
proud as she likes, but for all that she's no better than us. Many a
hundred times she's served my father with a halfpenny-worth of schnapps.
Left wheel--march!
[_Exit laughing._
DREISSIGER
[_ After a pause, with apparent calmness._] Well, Mr. Kittelhaus, shall
we have our game now? I think there will be no further Interruption. [_He
lights a cigar, giving short laughs as he does so; when it is lighted,
bursts into a regular fit of laughing._] I'm beginning now to think the
whole thing very funny. That fellow! [_Still laughing nervously._] It
really is too comical: first came the dispute at dinner with
Weinhold--five minutes after that he takes leave--off to the other end of
the world; then this affair crops up--and now we'll proceed with our
whist.
KITTELHAUS
Yes, but ... [_Roaring is heard outside._] Yes, but ... that's a terrible
uproar they're making outside.
DREISSIGER
All we have to do is to go into the other room; it won't disturb us in
the least there.
KITTELHAUS
[_Shaking his head._] I wish I knew what has come over these people. In
so far I must agree with Mr. Weinhold, or at least till quite lately I
was of his opinion, that the weavers were a patient, humble, easily-led
class. Was it not your idea of them, too, Mr. Dreissiger?
DREISSIGER
Most certainly that is what they used to be--patient, easily managed,
well-behaved and orderly people. They were that as long as these
so-called humanitarians let them alone. But for ever so long now they've
had the awful misery of their condition held up to them. Think of all the
societies and associations for the alleviation of the distress among the
weavers. At last the weaver believes in it himself, and his head's
turned. Some of them had better come and turn it back again, for now he's
fairly set a-going there's no end to his complaining. This doesn't please
him, and that doesn't please him. He must have everything of the best.
[_A loud roar of_ "Hurrah!" _is heard from, the crowd._
KITTELHAUS
So that with all their humanitarianism they have only succeeded in almost
literally turning lambs over night into wolves.
DREISSIGER
I won't say that, sir. When you take time to think of the matter coolly,
it's possible that some good may come of it yet. Such occurrences as this
will not pass unnoticed by those in authority, and may lead them to see
that things can't be allowed to go on as they are doing--that means must
be taken to prevent the utter ruin of our home industries.
KITTELHAUS
Possibly. But what is the cause, then, of this terrible falling off of
trade?
DREISSIGER
Our best markets have been closed to us by the heavy import duties
foreign countries have laid on our goods. At home the competition is a
struggle of life and death, for we have no protection, none whatever.
PFEIFER
[_Staggers in, pale and breathless._] Mr. Dreissiger, Mr. Dreissiger!
DREISSIGER
[_In the act of walking into the drawing-room, turns round, annoyed._]
Well, Pfeifer, what now?
PFEIFER
Oh, sir! Oh, sir!... It's worse than ever!
DREISSIGER
What are they up to next?
KITTELHAUS
You're really alarming us--what is it?
PFEIFER
[_Still confused._] I never saw the like. Good Lord--The superintendent
himself ... they'll catch it for this yet.
DREISSIGER
What's the matter with you, in the devil's name? Is any one's neck
broken?
PFEIFER
[_Almost crying with fear, screams._] They've set Moritz Jaeger
free--they've thrashed the superintendent and driven him away--they've
thrashed the policeman and sent him off too--without his helmet ... his
sword broken ... Oh dear, oh dear!
DREISSIGER
I think you've gone crazy, Pfeifer.
KITTELHAUS
This is actual riot.
PFEIFER
[_Sitting on a chair, his whole body trembling._] It's turning serious,
Mr. Dreissiger! Mr. Dreissiger, it's serious now!
DREISSIGER
Well, if that's all the police ...
PFEIFER
Mr. Dreissiger, it's serious now!
DREISSIGER
Damn it all, Pfeifer, will you hold your tongue?
MRS. DREISSIGER
[_Coming out of the drawing-room with MRS. KITTELHAUS._] This is really
too bad, William. Our whole pleasant evening's being spoiled. Here's Mrs.
Kittelhaus saying that she'd better go home.
KITTELHAUS
You mustn't take it amiss, dear Mrs. Dreissiger, but perhaps, under the
circumstances, it _would_ be better ...
MRS. DREISSIGER
But, William, why in the world don't you go out and put a stop to it?
DREISSIGER
You go and see if you can do it. Try! Go and speak to them! [_Standing in
front of the pastor, abruptly._] Am I such a tyrant? Am I a cruel master?
_Enter JOHN the coachman._
JOHN
If you please, m'm, I've put to the horses. Mr. Weinhold's put Georgie
and Charlie into the carriage. If it comes to the worst, we're ready to
be off.
MRS. DREISSIGER
If what comes to the worst?
JOHN
I'm sure I don't know, m'm. But I'm thinkin' this way: The crowd's
gettin' bigger and bigger, an' they've sent the superintendent an' the
p'liceman to the right-about.
PFEIFER
It's gettin' serious now, Mr. Dreissiger! It's serious!
MRS. DREISSIGER
[_With increasing alarm._] What's going to happen?--What do the people
want?--They're never going to attack us, John?
JOHN
There's some rascally hounds among 'em, ma'am.
PFEIFER
It's serious now! serious!
DREISSIGER
Hold your tongue, fool!--Are the doors barred?
KITTELHAUS
I ask you as a favour, Mr. Dreissiger ... as a favour ... I am determined
to ... I ask you as a favour ... [_To JOHN._] What demands are the people
making?
JOHN
[_Awkwardly._] It's higher wages they're after, the blackguards.
KITTELHAUS
Good, good!--I shall go out and do my duty. I shall speak seriously to
these people.
JOHN
Oh sir, please sir, don't do any such thing. Words is quite useless.
KITTELHAUS
One little favour, Mr. Dreissiger. May I ask you to post men behind the
door, and to have it closed at once after me?
MRS. KITTELHAUS
O Joseph, Joseph! you're not really going out?
KITTELHAUS
I am. Indeed I am. I know what I'm doing. Don't be afraid. God will
protect me.
[_MRS. KITTELHAUS presses his hand, draws back, and wipes tears from
her eyes._
KITTELHAUS
[_While the dull murmur of a great, excited crowd is heard
uninterruptedly outside._] I'll go ... I'll go out as if I were simply on
my way home. I shall see if my sacred office ... if the people have not
sufficient respect for me left to ... I shall try ... [_He takes his hat
and stick._] Forward, then, in God's name!
[_Goes out accompanied by DREISSIGER, PFEIFER and JOHN._
MRS. KITTELHAUS
Oh, dear Mrs. Dreissiger! [_She bursts into tears and embraces her._] I
do trust nothing will happen to him.
MRS. DREISSIGER
[_Absently._] I don't know how it is, Mrs. Kittelhaus, but I ... I can't
tell you how I feel. I didn't think such a thing was possible. It's ...
it's as if it was a sin to be rich. If I had been told about all this
beforehand, Mrs. Kittelhaus, I don't know but what I would rather have
been left in my own humble position.
MRS. KITTELHAUS
There are troubles and disappointments in every condition of life, Mrs.
Dreissiger.
MRS. DREISSIGER
True, true, I can well believe that. And suppose we have more than other
people ... goodness me! we didn't steal it. It's been honestly got, every
penny of it. It's not possible that the people can be goin' to attack us!
If trade's bad, that's not William's fault, is it?
[_A tumult of roaring is heard outside. While the two women stand
gazing at each other, pale and startled, DREISSIGER rushes in._
DREISSIGER
Quick, Rosa--put on something, and get into the carriage. I'll be after
you this moment.
[_He rushes to the strong-box, and takes out papers and various
articles of value._
_Enter JOHN._
JOHN
We're ready to start. But come quickly, before they gets round to the
back door.
MRS. DREISSIGER
[_In a transport of fear, throwing her arms around JOHN'S neck._] John,
John, dear, good John! Save us, John. Save my boys! Oh, what is to become
of us?
DREISSIGER
Rosa, try to keep your head. Let John go.
JOHN
Yes, yes, ma'am! Don't you be frightened. Our good horses'll soon leave
them all behind; an' whoever doesn't get out of the way'll be driven
over.
MRS. KITTELHAUS
[_In helpless anxiety._] But my husband ... my husband? But, Mr.
Dreissiger, my husband?
DREISSIGER
He's in safety now, Mrs. Kittelhaus. Don't alarm yourself; he's all
right.
MRS. KITTELHAUS
Something dreadful has happened to him. I know it. You needn't try to
keep it from me.
DREISSIGER
You mustn't take it to heart--they'll be sorry for it yet. I know exactly
whose fault it was. Such an unspeakable, shameful outrage will not go
unpunished. A community laying hands on its own pastor and maltreating
him--abominable! Mad dogs they are--raging brutes--and they'll be treated
as such. [_To his wife who still stands petrified._] Go, Rosa, go
quickly! [_Heavy blows at the lower door are heard._] Don't you hear?
They've gone stark mad! [_The clatter of window-panes being smashed on
the ground-floor is heard._] They've gone crazy. There's nothing for it
but to get away as fast as we can.
[_Cries of_ "Pfeifer, come out!"--"We want Pfeifer!"--"Pfeifer, come
out!" _are heard._
MRS. DREISSIGER
Pfeifer, Pfeifer, they want Pfeifer!
PFEIFER
[_Dashes in._] Mr. Dreissiger, there are people at the back gate already,
and the house door won't hold much longer. The smith's battering at it
like a maniac with a stable pail.
[_The cry sounds louder and clearer_: "Pfeifer! Pfeifer! Pfeifer!
come out!" _MRS. DREISSIGER rushes off as if pursued. MRS. KITTELHAUS
follows. PFEIFER listens, and changes colour as he hears what the cry
is. A perfect panic of fear seizes him; he weeps, entreats, whimpers,
writhes, all at the same moment. He overwhelms DREISSIGER with
childish caresses, strokes his cheeks and arms, kisses his hands, and
at last, like a drowning man, throws his arms round him and prevents
him moving._
PFEIFER
Dear, good, kind Mr. Dreissiger, don't leave me behind. I've always
served you faithfully. I've always treated the people well. I couldn't
give 'em more wages than the fixed rate. Don't leave me here--they'll do
for me! If they finds me, they'll kill me. O God! O God! My wife, my
children!
DREISSIGER
[_Making his way out, vainly endeavouring to free himself from PFEIFER'S
clutch._] Can't you let me go, fellow? It'll be all right; it'll be all
right.
_For a few seconds the room is empty. Windows are shattered in the
drawing-room. A loud crash resounds through the house, followed by a
roaring_ "Hurrah!" _For an instant there is silence. Then gentle,
cautious steps are heard on the stair, then timid, hushed
ejaculations_: "To the left!"--"Up with you!"--"Hush!"--"Slow,
slow!"--"Don't shove like that!"--"It's a wedding we're goin'
to!"--"Stop that crowdin'!"--"You go first!"--"No, you go!"
_Young weavers and weaver girls appear at the door leading from the
hall, not daring to enter, but each trying to shove the other in. In
the course of a few moments their timidity is overcome, and the poor,
thin, ragged or patched figures, many of them sickly-looking,
disperse themselves through DREISSIGER'S room and the drawing-room,
first gazing timidly and curiously at everything, then beginning to
touch things. Girls sit down on the sofas, whole groups admire
themselves in the mirrors, men stand up on chairs, examine the
pictures and take them down. There is a steady influx of
miserable-looking creatures from the hall._
FIRST OLD WEAVER
[_Entering._] No, no, this is carryin' it too far. They've started
smashin' things downstairs. There's no sense nor reason in that. There'll
be a bad end to it. No man in his wits would do that. I'll keep clear of
such goings on.
_JAEGER, BECKER, WITTIG carrying a wooden pail, BAUMERT, and a number
of other old and young weavers, rush in as if in pursuit of
something, shouting hoarsely._
JAEGER
Where has he gone?
BECKER
Where's the cruel brute?
BAUMERT
If we can eat grass he may eat sawdust.
WITTIG
We'll hang him when we catch him.
FIRST YOUNG WEAVER
We'll take him by the legs and fling him out at the window, on to the
stones. He'll never get up again.
SECOND YOUNG WEAVER
[_Enters._] He's off!
ALL
Who?
SECOND YOUNG WEAVER
Dreissiger.
BECKER
Pfeifer too?
VOICES
Let's get hold o' Pfeifer! Look for Pfeifer!
BAUMERT
Yes, yes! Pfeifer! Tell him there's a weaver here for him to starve.
[_Laughter._
JAEGER
If we can't lay hands on that brute Dreissiger himself ... we'll make him
poor!
BAUMERT
As poor as a church mouse ... we'll see to that!
[_All, bent on the work of destruction, rush towards the drawing-room
door._
BECKER
[_Who is leading, turns round and stops the others._] Halt! Listen to me!
This is nothing but a beginnin'. When we're done here, we'll go straight
to Bielau, to Dittrich's, where the steam power-looms is. The whole
mischief's done by them factories.
OLD ANSORGE
[_Enters from hall. Takes a few steps, then stops and looks round,
scarcely believing his eyes; shakes his head, taps his forehead._] Who am
I? Weaver Anton Ansorge. Has he gone mad, Old Ansorge? My head's goin'
round like a humming-top, sure enough. What's he doin' here. He'll do
whatever he's a mind to. Where is Ansorge? [_He taps his forehead
repeatedly._] Something's wrong! I'm not answerable! I'm off my head! Off
with you, off with you, rioters that you are! Heads off, legs off, hands
off! If you takes my house, I takes your house. Forward, forward!
[_Goes yelling into the drawing-room, followed by a yelling, laughing
mob._
END OF THE FOURTH ACT
FIFTH ACT
_Langen-Bielau,--OLD WEAVER HILSE'S workroom. On the left a small
window, in front of which stands the loom. On the right a bed, with a
table pushed close to it. Stove, with stove-bench, in the right-hand
corner. Family worship is going on. HILSE, his old, blind, and almost
deaf wife, his son GOTTLIEB, and LUISE, GOTTLIEB'S wife, are sitting
at the table, on the bed and wooden stools. A winding-wheel and
bobbins on the floor between table and loom. Old spinning, weaving,
and winding implements are disposed of on the smoky rafters; hanks of
yarn are hanging down. There is much useless lumber in the low narrow
room. The door, which is in the back wall, and leads into the big
outer passage, or entry-room of the house, stands open. Through
another open door on the opposite side of the passage, a second, in
most respects similar weaver's room is seen. The large passage, or
entry-room of the house, is paved with stone, has damaged plaster,
and a tumble-down wooden stair-case leading to the attics; a
washing-tub on a stool is partly visible; linen of the most miserable
description and poor household utensils lie about untidily. The light
falls from the left into all three apartments._
_OLD HILSE is a bearded man of strong build, but bent and wasted with
age, toil, sickness, and hardship. He is an old soldier, and has lost
an arm. His nose is sharp, his complexion ashen-grey, and he shakes;
he is nothing but skin and bone, and has the deep-set, sore weaver's
eyes._
OLD HILSE
[_Stands up, as do his son and daughter-in-law; prays._] O Lord, we know
not how to be thankful enough to Thee, for that Thou hast spared us this
night again in Thy goodness ... an' hast had pity on us ... an' hast
suffered us to take no harm. Thou art the All-merciful, an' we are poor,
sinful children of men--that bad that we are not worthy to be trampled
under Thy feet. Yet Thou art our loving Father, an' Thou will look upon
us an' accept us for the sake of Thy dear Son, our Lord and Saviour Jesus
Christ. "Jesus' blood and righteousness, Our covering is and glorious
dress." An' if we're sometimes too sore cast down under Thy
chastening--when the fire of Thy purification burns too ragin' hot--oh,
lay it not to our charge; forgive us our sin. Give us patience, heavenly
Father, that after all these sufferin's we may be made partakers of Thy
eternal blessedness. Amen.
MOTHER HILSE
[_Who has been bending forward, trying hard to hear._] What a beautiful
prayer you do say, father!
[_LUISE goes off to the washtub, GOTTLIEB to the room on the other
side of the passage._
OLD HILSE
Where's the little lass?
LUISE
She's gone to Peterswaldau, to Dreissiger's. She finished all she had to
wind last night.
OLD HILSE
[_Speaking very loud._] You'd like the wheel now, mother, eh?
MOTHER HILSE
Yes, father, I'm quite ready.
OLD HILSE
[_Setting it down before her._] I wish I could do the work for you.
MOTHER HILSE
An' what would be the good o' that, father? There would I be, sittin' not
knowin' what to do.
OLD HILSE
I'll give your fingers a wipe, then, so that they'll not grease the yarn.
[_He wipes her hands with a rag._
LUISE
[_At her tub._] If there's grease on her hands, it's not from what she's
eaten.
OLD HILSE
If we've no butter, we can eat dry bread--when we've no bread, we can eat
potatoes--when there's no potatoes left, we can eat bran.
LUISE
[_Saucily._] An' when that's all eaten, we'll do as the Wenglers
did--we'll find out where the skinner's buried some stinking old horse,
an' we'll dig it up an' live for a week or two on rotten carrion--how
nice that'll be!
GOTTLIEB
[_From the other room._] There you are, lettin' that tongue of yours run
away with you again.
OLD HILSE
You should think twice, lass, before you talk that godless way. [_He goes
to his loom, calls._] Can you give me a hand, Gottlieb?--there's a few
threads to pull through.
LUISE
[_From her tub._] Gottlieb, you're wanted to help father.
[_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
Who else, I'd like to know? I could put names to every one of 'em. It was
me took the sheriff through the house, an' I spoke to a whole lot of 'em,
an' they answered me back--quite friendly like. They did their business
with little noise, but my word! they did it well. The sheriff spoke to
'em, and they answered him mannerly, as they always do. But there wasn't
no stoppin' of them. They hacked on at the beautiful furniture as if they
was workin' for wages.
OLD HILSE
_You_ took the sheriff through the house?
HORNIG
An' what would I be frightened of? Every one knows me. I'm always turnin'
up, like a bad penny. But no one has anything agin' me. They're all glad
to see me. Yes, I went the rounds with him, as sure as my name's Hornig.
An' you may believe me or not as you like, but my heart's sore yet from
the sight--an' I could see by the sheriff's face that he felt queer
enough too. For why? Not a livin' word did we hear--they was doin' their
work and holdin' their tongues. It was a solemn an' a woeful sight to see
the poor starvin' creatures for once in a way takin' their revenge.
LUISE
[_With irrepressible excitement, trembling, wiping her eyes with her
apron._] An' right they are! It's only what should be!
VOICES AMONG THE CROWD AT THE DOOR
"There's some of the same sort here."--"There's one no farther away than
across the river."--"He's got four horses in his stable an' six
carriages, an' he starves his weavers to keep 'em."
OLD HILSE
[_Still incredulous._] What was it set them off?
HORNIG
Who knows? who knows? One says this, another says that.
OLD HILSE
What do they say?
HORNIG
The story as most of 'em tells is that it began with Dreissiger sayin'
that if the weavers was hungry they might eat grass. But I don't rightly
know.
[_Excitement at the door, as one person repeats this to the other,
with signs of indignation._
OLD HILSE