die to-morrow, I would answer back: That may be--an' why not? You might
even go to the length of saying: You'll have a visit to-morrow from the
King of Prussia. But to tell me that weavers, men like me an' my son,
have done such things as that--never! I'll never in this world believe
it.
MIELCHEN
[_A pretty girl of seven, with long, loose flaxen hair, carrying a basket
on her arm, comes running in, holding out a silver spoon to her mother._]
Mammy, mammy! look what I've got! An' you're to buy me a new frock with
it.
LUISE
What d'you come tearing in like that for, girl? [_With increased
excitement and curiosity._] An' what's that you've got hold of now?
You've been runnin' yourself out o' breath, an' there--if the bobbins
aren't in her basket yet? What's all this about?
OLD HILSE
Mielchen, where did that spoon come from?
LUISE
She found it, maybe.
HORNIG
It's worth its seven or eight shillin's at least.
OLD HILSE
[_In distressed excitement._] Off with you, lass--out of the house this
moment--unless you want a lickin'! Take that spoon back where you got it
from. Out you go! Do you want to make thieves of us all, eh? I'll soon
drive that out o' you.
[_He looks round for something to beat her with._
MIELCHEN
[_Clinging to her mother's skirts, crying._] No, grandfather, no! don't
lick me! We--we _did_ find it. All the other bob--bobbin ... girls has
... has some too.
LUISE
[_Half frightened, half excited._] I was right, you see. She found it.
Where did you find it, Mielchen?
MIELCHEN
[_Sobbing._] At--at Peterswal--dau. We--we found them in front of--in
front of Drei--Dreissiger's house.
OLD HILSE
This is worse an' worse! Get off with you this moment, unless you want me
to help you.
MOTHER HILSE
What's all the to-do about?
HORNIG
I'll tell you what, father Hilse. The best way'll be for Gottlieb to put
on his coat an' take the spoon to the police-office.
OLD HILSE
Gottlieb, put on year coat.
GOTTLIEB
[_Pulling it on, eagerly._] Yes, an' I'll go right in to the office an'
say they're not to blame us for it, for how c'n a child like that
understand about it? an' I brought the spoon back at once. Stop your
crying now, Mielchen!
[_The crying child is taken into the opposite room by her mother, who
shuts her in and comes back._
HORNIG
I believe it's worth as much as nine shillin's.
GOTTLIEB
Give us a cloth to wrap it in, Luise, so that it'll take no harm. To
think of the thing bein' worth all that money!
[_Tears come into his eyes while he is wrapping up the spoon._
LUISE
If it was only ours, we could live on it for many a day.
OLD HILSE
Hurry up, now! Look sharp! As quick as ever you can. A fine state o'
matters, this! Get that devil's spoon out o' the house.
[_GOTTLIEB goes off with the spoon._
HORNIG
I must be off now too.
[_He goes, is seen talking to the people in the entry-room before he
leaves the house._
SURGEON SCHMIDT
[_A jerky little ball of a man, with a red, knowing face, comes into the
entry-room._] Good-morning, all! These are fine goings on! Take care!
take care! [_Threatening with his finger._] You're a sly lot--that's what
you are. [_At HILSE'S door without coming in._] Morning, father Hilse.
[_To a woman in the outer room._] And how are the pains, mother? Better,
eh? Well, well. And how's all with you, father Hilse? [_Enters._] Why the
deuce! what's the matter with mother?
LUISE
It's the eye veins, sir--they've dried up, so as she can't see at all
now.
SURGEON SCHMIDT
That's from the dust and weaving by candlelight. Will you tell me what it
means that all Peterswaldau's on the way here? I set off on my rounds
this morning as usual, thinking no harm; but it wasn't long till I had my
eyes opened. Strange doings these! What in the devil's name has taken
possession of them, Hilse? They're like a pack of raging wolves.
Riot--why, it's revolution! they're getting refractory--plundering and
laying waste right and left ... Mielchen! where's Mielchen? [_MIELCHEN,
her face red with crying, is pushed in by her mother._] Here, Mielchen,
put your hand into my coat pocket. [_MIELCHEN does so._] The ginger-bread
nuts are for you. Not all at once, though, you baggage! And a song first!
The fox jumped up on a ... come, now ... The fox jumped up ... on a
moonlight ... Mind, I've heard what you did. You called the sparrows on
the churchyard hedge a nasty name, and they're gone and told the pastor.
Did any one ever hear the like? Fifteen hundred of them agog--men, women,
and children. [_Distant bells are heard._] That's at Reichenbach--
alarm-bells! Fifteen hundred people! Uncomfortably like the world coming
to an end!
OLD HILSE
An' is it true that they're on their way to Bielau?
SURGEON SCHMIDT
That's just what I'm telling you, I've driven through the middle of the
whole crowd. What I'd have liked to do would have been to get down and
give each of them a pill there and then. They were following on each
other's heels like misery itself, and their singing was more than enough
to turn a man's stomach. I was nearly sick, and Frederick was shaking on
the box like an old woman. We had to take a stiff glass at the first
opportunity. I wouldn't be a manufacturer, not though I could drive my
carriage and pair. [_Distant singing._] Listen to that! It's for all the
world as if they were beating at some broken old boiler. We'll have them
here in five minutes, friends. Good-bye! Don't you be foolish. The troops
will be upon them in no time. Keep your wits about you. The Peterswaldau
people have lost theirs. [_Bells ring close at hand._] Good gracious!
There are our bells ringing too! Every one's going mad.
[_He goes upstairs._
GOTTLIEB
[_Comes back. In the entry-room, out of breath._] I've seen 'em, I've
seen 'em! [_To a woman._] They're here, auntie, they're here! [_At the
door._] They're here, father, they're here! They've got bean-poles, an'
ox-goads, an' axes. They're standin' outside the upper Dittrich's kickin'
up an awful row. I think he's payin' 'em money. O Lord! whatever's goin'
to happen? What a crowd! Oh, you never saw such a crowd! Dash it all--if
once they makes a rush, our manufacturers'll be hard put to it.
OLD HILSE
What have you been runnin' like that for? You'll go racin' till you bring
on your old trouble, and then we'll have you on your back again,
strugglin' for breath.
GOTTLIEB
[_Almost joyously excited._] I had to run, or they would ha' caught me
an' kept me. They was all roarin' to me to join 'em. Father Baumert was
there too, and says he to me: You come an' get your sixpence with the
rest--you're a poor starvin' weaver too. An' I was to tell you, father,
from him, that you was to come an' help to pay out the manufacturers for
their grindin' of us down. [_Passionately._] Other times is comin', he
says. There's goin' to be a change of days for us weavers. An' we're all
to come an' help to bring it about. We're to have our half-pound o' meat
on Sundays, and now and again on a holiday sausage with our cabbage. Yes,
things is to be quite different, by what he tells me.
OLD HILSE
[_With repressed indignation._] An' that man calls hisself your
godfather! and he bids you take part in such works o' wickedness? Have
nothing to do with them, Gottlieb. They've let themselves be tempted by
Satan, an' it's his works they're doin'.
LUISE
[_No longer able to restrain her passionate excitement, vehemently._]
Yes, Gottlieb, get into the chimney corner, an' take a spoon in your
hand, an' a dish o' skim milk on your knee, an' pat on a petticoat an'
say your prayers, and then father'll be pleased with you. And _he_ sets
up to be a man!
[_Laughter from the people in the entry-room._
OLD HILSE
[_Quivering with suppressed rage._] An' you set up to be a good wife,
'eh? You calls yourself a mother, an' let your evil tongue run away with
you like that? You think yourself fit to teach your girl, you that would
egg on your husband to crime an' wickedness?
LUISE
[_Has lost all control of herself._] You an' your piety an' religion--did
they serve to keep the life in my poor children? In rags an' dirt they
lay, all the four--it didn't as much as keep 'em dry. Yes! I sets up to
be a mother, that's what I do--an' if you'd like to know it, that's why
I'd send all the manufacturers to hell--because I'm a mother!--Not one of
the four could I keep in life! It was cryin' more than breathin' with me
from the time each poor little thing came into the world till death took
pity on it. The devil a bit you cared! You sat there prayin' and singin',
and let me run about till my feet bled, tryin' to get one little drop o'
skim milk. How many hundred nights has I lain an' racked my head to think
what I could do to cheat the churchyard of my little one? What harm has a
baby like that done that it must come to such a miserable end--eh? An'
over there at Dittrich's they're bathed in wine an' washed in milk. No!
you may talk as you like, but if they begins here, ten horses won't hold
me back. An' what's more--if there's a rush on Dittrich's, you'll see me
in the forefront of it--an' pity the man as tries to prevent me--I've
stood it long enough, so now you know it.
OLD HILSE
You're a lost soul--there's no help for you.
LUISE
[_Frenzied._] It's you that there's no help for! Tatter-breeched
scarecrows--that's what you are--an' not men at all. Whey-faced
gutter-scrapers that take to your heels at the sound of a child's rattle.
Fellows that says "thank you" to the man as gives you a hidin'. They've
not left that much blood in you as that you can turn red in the face. You
should have the whip taken to you, an' a little pluck flogged into your
rotten bones.
[_She goes out quickly._
[_Embarrassed pause._]
MOTHER HILSE
What's the matter with Liesl, father?
OLD HILSE
Nothin', mother! What should be the matter with her?
MOTHER HILSE
Father, is it only me that's thinkin' it, or is the bells ringin'?
OLD HILSE
It'll be a funeral, mother.
MOTHER HILSE
An' I've got to sit waitin' here yet. Why must I be so long a-dyin',
father? [_Pause._]
OLD HILSE
[_Leaves his work, holds himself up straight; solemnly._] Gottlieb!--you
heard all your wife said to us. Look here, Gottlieb! [_He bares his
breast._] Here they cut out a bullet as big as a thimble. The King knows
where I lost my arm. It wasn't the mice as ate it. [_He walks up and
down._] Before that wife of yours was ever thought of, I had spilled my
blood by the quart for King an' country. So let her call what names she
likes--an' welcome! It does me no harm--Frightened? Me frightened? What
would I be frightened of, will you tell me that? Of the few soldiers,
maybe, that'll be comin' after the rioters? Good gracious me! That would
be a lot to be frightened at! No, no, lad; I may be a bit stiff in the
back, but there's some strength left in the old bones; I've got the stuff
in me yet to make a stand against a few rubbishin' bay'nets.--An' if it
came to the worst! Willin', willin' would I be to say good-bye to this
weary world. Death'd be welcome--welcomer to me to-day than to-morrow.
For what is it we leave behind? That old bundle of aches an' pains we
call our body, the care an' the oppression we call by the name o' life.
We may be glad to get away from it,--But there's something to come after,
Gottlieb!--an' if we've done ourselves out o' that too--why, then it's
all over with us!
GOTTLIEB
Who knows what's to come after? Nobody's seen it.
OLD HILSE
Gottlieb! don't you be throwin' doubts on the one comfort us poor people
have. Why has I sat here an' worked my treadle like a slave this forty
year an' more?--sat still an' looked on at him over yonder livin' in
pride an' wastefulness--why? Because I have a better hope, something as
supports me in all my troubles. [_Points out at the window._] You have
your good things in this world--I'll have mine in the next. That's been
my thought. An' I'm that certain of it--I'd let myself be torn to pieces.
Have we not His promise? There's a Day of Judgment comin'; but it's not
us as are the judges--no: Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.
[_A cry of_ "Weavers, come out!" _is heard outside the window._
OLD HILSE
Do what you will for me. [_He seats himself at his loom._] I stay here.
GOTTLIEB
[_After a short struggle._] I'm going to work too--come what may.
[_Goes out._
[_The Weavers' Song is heard, sung by hundreds of voices quite close
at hand; it sounds like a dull, monotonous wail._
INMATES OF THE HOUSE
[_In the entry-room._] "Oh, mercy on us! there they come swarmin' like
ants!"--"Where can all these weavers be from?"--"Don't shove like that, I
want to see too."--"Look at that great maypole of a woman leadin' on in
front!"--"Gracious! they're comin' thicker an' thicker."
HORNIG
[_Comes into the entry-room from outside._] There's a theayter play for
you now! That's what you don't see every day. But you should go up to the
other Dittrich's an' look what they've done there. It's been no half
work. He's got no house now, nor no factory, nor no wine-cellar, nor
nothin'. They're drinkin' out o' the bottles--not so much as takin' the
time to get out the corks. One, two, three, an' off with the neck, an' no
matter whether they cuts their mouths or not. There's some of 'em runnin'
about bleedin' like stuck pigs.--Now they're goin' to do for Dittrich
here.
[_The singing has stopped._
INMATES OF THE HOUSE
There's nothin' so very wicked like about them.
HORNIG
You wait a bit! you'll soon see! All they're doin' just now is makin' up
their minds where they'll begin. Look, they're inspectin' the palace from
every side. Do you see that little stout man there, him with the stable
pail? That's the smith from Peterswaldau--an' a dangerous little chap he
is. He batters in the thickest doors as if they were made o' pie-crust.
If a manufacturer was to fall into his hands it would be all over with
him!
HOUSE INMATES
"That was a crack!"--"There went a stone through the window!"--"There's
old Dittrich, shakin' with fright."--"He's hangin' out a
board."--"Hangin' out a board?"--"What's written on it?"--"Can't you
read?"--"It'd be a bad job for me if I couldn't read!"--"Well, read it,
then!"--"'You--shall have--full--satis-fac-tion! You--you shall have full
satisfaction.'"
HORNIG
He might ha' spared hisself the trouble--_that_ won't help him. It's
something else they've set their minds on here. It's the factories.
They're goin' to smash up the power-looms. For it's them that is ruinin'
the hand-loom weaver. Even a blind man might see that. No! the good folks
knows what they're after, an' no sheriff an' no p'lice superintendent'll
bring them to reason--much less a bit of a board. Him as has seen 'em at
work already knows what's comin'.
HOUSE INMATES
"Did any one ever see such a crowd!"--"What can _these_ be
wantin'?"--[_Hastily._] "They're crossin' the bridge!"--[_Anxiously._]
"They're never comin' over on this side, are they?"--[_In excitement and
terror._] "It's to us they're comin'! They're comin' to us! They're
comin' to fetch the weavers out o' their houses!"
[_General flight. The entry-room is empty. A crowd of dirty, dusty
rioters rush in, their faces scarlet with brandy, and excitement;
tattered, untidy-looking, as if they had been up all night. With the
shout:_ "Weavers, come out!" _they disperse themselves through the
house. BECKER and several other young weavers, armed with cudgels and
poles, come into OLD HILSE'S room. When they see the old man at his
loom they start, and cool down a little._
BECKER
Come, father Hilse, stop that. Leave your work to them as wants to work.
There's no need now for you to be doin' yourself harm. You'll be well
taken care of.
FIRST YOUNG WEAVER
You'll never need to go hungry to bed again.
SECOND YOUNG WEAVER
The weaver's goin' to have a roof over his head an' a shirt on his back
once more.
OLD HILSE
An' what's the devil sendin' you to do now, with your poles an' axes?
BECKER
These are what we're goin' to break on Dittrich's back.
SECOND YOUNG WEAVER
We'll heat 'em red hot an' stick 'em down the manufacturers' throats, so
as they'll feel for once what burnin' hunger tastes like.
THIRD YOUNG WEAVER
Come along, father Hilse! We'll give no quarter.
SECOND YOUNG WEAVER
No one had mercy on us--neither God nor man. Now we're standin' up for
our rights ourselves.
_OLD BAUMERT enters, somewhat shaky on the legs, a newly killed cock
under his arm._
OLD BAUMERT
[_Stretching out his arms._] My brothers--we're all brothers! Come to my
arms, brothers!
[_Laughter._
OLD HILSE
And that's the state you're in, Willem?
OLD BAUMERT
Gustav, is it you? My poor starvin' friend. Come to my arms, Gustav!
OLD HILSE
[_Mutters._] Let me alone.
OLD BAUMERT
I'll tell you what, Gustav. It's nothin' but luck that's wanted. You look
at me. What do I look like? Luck's what's wanted. Don't I look like a
lord? [_Pats his stomach._] Guess what's in there! There's food fit for a
prince in that belly. When luck's with him a man gets roast hare to eat
an' champagne wine to drink.--I'll tell you all something: We've made a
big mistake--we must help ourselves.
ALL
[_Speaking at once._] We must help ourselves, hurrah!
OLD BAUMERT
As soon as we gets the first good bite inside us we're different men.
Damn it all! but you feels the power comin' into you till you're like an
ox, an' that wild with strength that you hit out right an' left without
as much as takin' time to look. Dash it, but it's grand!
JAEGER
[_At the door, armed with an old cavalry sword._] We've made one or two
first-rate attacks.
BECKER
We knows how to set about it now. One, two, three, an' we're inside the
house. Then, at it like lightnin'--bang, crack, shiver! till the sparks
are flyin' as if it was a smithy.
FIRST YOUNG WEAVER
It wouldn't be half bad to light a bit o' fire.
SECOND YOUNG WEAVER
Let's march to Reichenbach an' burn the rich folks' houses over their
heads!
JAEGER
That would be nothin' but butterin' their bread, Think of all the
insurance money they'd get.
[_Laughter._
BECKER
No, from here we'll go to Freiburg, to Tromtra's.
JAEGER
What would you say to givin' all them as holds Government appointments a
lesson? I've read somewhere as how all our troubles come from them
birocrats, as they calls them.
SECOND YOUNG WEAVER
Before long we'll go to Breslau, for more an' more'll be joinin' us.
OLD BAUMERT
[_To HILSE._] Won't you take a drop, Gustav?
OLD HILSE
I never touches it.
OLD BAUMERT
That was in the old world; we're in a new world to-day, Gustav.
FIRST YOUNG WEAVER
Christmas comes but once a year.
[_Laughter._
OLD HILSE
[_Impatiently._] What is it you want in my house, you limbs of Satan?
OLD BAUMERT
[_A little intimidated, coaxingly._] I was bringin' you a chicken,
Gustav. I thought it would make a drop o' soup for mother.
OLD HILSE
[_Embarrassed, almost friendly._] Well, you can tell mother yourself.
MOTHER HILSE
[_Who has been making efforts to hear, her hand at her ear, motions them
off._] Let me alone. I don't want no chicken soup.
OLD HILSE
That's right, mother. An' I want none, an' least of all that sort. An'
let me say this much to you, Baumert: The devil stands on his head for
joy when he hears the old ones jabberin' and talkin' as if they was
infants. An' to you all I say--to every one of you: Me and you, we've got
nothing to do with each other. It's not with my will that you're here. In
law an' justice you've no right to be in my house.
A VOICE
Him that's not with us is against us.
JAEGER
[_Roughly and threateningly._] You're on the wrong track, old chap, I'd
have you remember that we're not thieves.
A VOICE
We're hungry men, that's all.
FIRST YOUNG WEAVER
We wants to _live_--that's all. An' so we've cut the rope we was hung up
with.
JAEGER
And we was in our right! [_Holding his fist in front of the old man's
face_.] Say another word, and I'll give you one between the eyes.
BECKER
Come, now, Jaeger, be quiet. Let the old man alone.--What we say to
ourselves, father Hilse, is this: Better dead than begin the old life
again.
OLD HILSE
Have I not lived that life for sixty years an' more?
BECKER
That doesn't help us--there's _got_ to be a change.
OLD HILSE
On the Judgment Day.
BECKER
What they'll not give us willingly we're goin' to take by force.
OLD HILSE
By force. [_Laughs._] You may as well go an' dig your graves at once.
They'll not be long showin' you where the force lies. Wait a bit, lad!
JAEGER
Is it the soldiers you're meanin'? We've been soldiers too. We'll soon do
for a company or two of 'em.
OLD HILSE
With your tongues, maybe. But supposin' you did--for two that you'd beat
off, ten'll come back.
VOICES
[_Call through the window._] The soldiers are comin! Look out!
[_General, sudden silence. For a moment a faint sound of fifes and
drums is heard; in the ensuing silence a short, involuntary
exclamation:_ "The devil! I'm off!" _followed by general laughter._
BECKER
Who was that? Who speaks of runnin' away?
JAEGER
Which of you is it that's afraid of a few paltry helmets? You have me to
command you, and I've been in the trade. I knows their tricks.
OLD HILSE
An' what are you goin' to shoot with? Your sticks, eh?
FIRST YOUNG WEAVER
Never mind that old chap; he's wrong in the upper storey.
SECOND YOUNG WEAVER
Yes, he's a bit off his head.
GOTTLIEB
[_Has made his way unnoticed among the rioters; catches hold of the
speaker._] Would you give your impudence to an old man like him?
SECOND YOUNG WEAVER
Let me alone. 'Twasn't anything bad I said.
OLD HILSE
[_Interfering._] Let him jaw, Gottlieb. What. would you be meddlin' with
him for? He'll soon see who it is that's been off his head to-day, him or
me.
BECKER
Are you comin', Gottlieb?
OLD HILSE
No, he's goin' to do no such thing.
LUISE
[_Comes into the entry-room, calls._] What are you puttin' off your time
with prayin' hypocrites like them for? Come quick to where you're wanted!
Quick! Father Baumert, run all you can! The major's speakin' to the crowd
from horseback. They're to go home. If you don't hurry up, it'll be all
over.
JAEGER
[_As he goes out._] That's a brave husband o' yours.
LUISE
Where is he? I've got no husband!
[_Some of the people in the entry-room sing_:
Once on a time a man so small,
Heigh-ho, heigh!
Set his heart on a wife so tall,
Heigh diddle-di-dum-di!
WITTIG, THE SMITH
[_Comes downstairs, still carrying the stable pail; stops on his way
through the entry-room._] Come On! all of you that is not cowardly
scoundrels!--hurrah!
[_He dashes out, followed by LUISE, JAEGER, and others, all shouting_
"Hurrah!"
BECKER
Good-bye, then, father Hilse; well see each other again.
[_Is going._
OLD HILSE
I doubt that. I've not five years to live, and that'll be the soonest
you'll get out.
BECKER
[_Stops, not understanding._] Out o' what, father Hilse?
OLD HILSE
Out o' prison--where else?
BECKER
[_Laughs wildly._] Do you think I'd mind that? There's bread to be had
there anyhow!
[_Goes out._
OLD BAUMERT
[_Has been cowering on a low stool, painfully beating his brains; he now
gets up._] It's true, Gustav, as I've had a drop too much. But for all
that I knows what I'm about. You think one way in this here matter; I
think another. I say Becker's right: even if it ends in chains an'
ropes--we'll be better off in prison than at home. You're cared for
there, an' you don't need to starve. I wouldn't have joined 'em, Gustav,
if I could ha' let it be; but once in a lifetime a man's got to show what
he feels. [_Goes slowly towards the door._] Good-bye, Gustav. If anything
happens, mind you put in a word for me in your prayers.
[_Goes out._
[_The rioters are now all gone. The entry-room, gradually fills again
with curious onlookers from the different rooms of the house. OLD
HILSE knots at his web. GOTTLIEB has taken an axe from behind the
stove and is unconsciously feeling its edge. He and the old man are
silently agitated. The hum and roar of a great crowd penetrate into
the room._
MOTHER HILSE
The very boards is shakin', father--what's goin' on? What's goin' to
happen to us?
[_Pause._]
OLD HILSE
Gottlieb!
GOTTLIEB
What is it?
OLD HILSE
Let that axe alone.
GOTTLIEB
Who's to split the wood, then?
[_He leans the axe against the stove._
[_Pause._]
MOTHER HILSE
Gottlieb, you listen, to what father says to you.
[_Some one sings outside the window:_
Our little man does all that he can,
Heigh-ho, heigh!
At home he cleans the pots an' the pan,
Heigh-diddle-di-dum-di!
[_Passes on._
GOTTLIEB
[_Jumps up, shakes his clenched fist at the window._] Beast! Don't drive
me crazy!
[_A volley of musketry is heard._
MOTHER HILSE
[_Starts and trembles._] Good Lord! Is that thunder again?
OLD HILSE
[_Instinctively folding his hands._] Oh, our Father in heaven! defend the
poor weavers, protect my poor brothers.
[_A short pause ensues._
OLD HILSE