SCENE II

It is past four. In a grey, failing light, an open muddy space

is crowded with workmen. Beyond, divided from it by a

barbed-wire fence, is the raised towing-path of a canal, on which

is moored a barge. In the distance are marshes and snow-covered

hills. The "Works" high wall runs from the canal across the open

space, and ivy the angle of this wall is a rude platform of

barrels and boards. On it, HARNESS is standing. ROBERTS, a

little apart from the crowd, leans his back against the wall. On

the raised towing-path two bargemen lounge and smoke

indifferently.

HARNESS. [Holding out his hand.] Well, I've spoken to you straight.

If I speak till to-morrow I can't say more.

JAGO. [A dark, sallow, Spanish-looking man with a short, thin

beard.] Mister, want to ask you! Can they get blacklegs?

BULGIN. [Menacing.] Let 'em try.

[There are savage murmurs from the crowd.]

BROWN. [A round-faced man.] Where could they get 'em then?

EVANS. [A small, restless, harassed man, with a fighting face.]

There's always blacklegs; it's the nature of 'em. There's always men

that'll save their own skins.

[Another savage murmur. There is a movement, and old THOMAS,

joining the crowd, takes his stand in front.]

HARNESS. [Holding up his hand.] They can't get them. But that

won't help you. Now men, be reasonable. Your demands would have

brought on us the burden of a dozen strikes at a time when we were

not prepared for them. The Unions live by justice, not to one, but

all. Any fair man will tell you--you were ill-advised! I don't say

you go too far for that which you're entitled to, but you're going

too far for the moment; you've dug a pit for yourselves. Are you to

stay there, or are you to climb out? Come!

LEWIS. [A clean-cut Welshman with a dark moustache.] You've hit it,

Mister! Which is it to be?

[Another movement in the crowd, and ROUS, coming quickly, takes

his stand next THOMAS.]

HARNESS. Cut your demands to the right pattern, and we 'll see you

through; refuse, and don't expect me to waste my time coming down

here again. I 'm not the sort that speaks at random, as you ought to

know by this time. If you're the sound men I take you for--no matter

who advises you against it--[he fixes his eyes on ROBERTS] you 'll

make up your minds to come in, and trust to us to get your terms.

Which is it to be? Hands together, and victory--or--the starvation

you've got now?

[A prolonged murmur from the crowd.]

JAGO. [Sullenly.] Talk about what you know.

HARNESS. [Lifting his voice above the murmur.] Know? [With cold

passion.] All that you've been through, my friend, I 've been

through--I was through it when I was no bigger than [pointing to a

youth] that shaver there; the Unions then were n't what they are

now. What's made them strong? It's hands together that 's made them

strong. I 've been through it all, I tell you, the brand's on my

soul yet. I know what you 've suffered--there's nothing you can tell

me that I don't know; but the whole is greater than the part, and you

are only the part. Stand by us, and we will stand by you.

[Quartering them with his eyes, he waits. The murmuring swells;

the men form little groups. GREEN, BULGIN, and LEWIS talk

together.]

LEWIS. Speaks very sensible, the Union chap.

GREEN. [Quietly.] Ah! if I 'd a been listened to, you'd 'ave 'eard

sense these two months past.

[The bargemen are seen laughing. ]

LEWIS. [Pointing.] Look at those two blanks over the fence there!

BULGIN. [With gloomy violence.] They'd best stop their cackle, or I

'll break their jaws.

JAGO. [Suddenly.] You say the furnace men's paid enough?

HARNESS. I did not say they were paid enough; I said they were paid

as much as the furnace men in similar works elsewhere.

EVANS. That's a lie! [Hubbub.] What about Harper's?

HARNESS. [With cold irony.] You may look at home for lies, my man.

Harper's shifts are longer, the pay works out the same.

HENRY ROUS. [A dark edition of his brother George.] Will ye support

us in double pay overtime Saturdays?

HARNESS. Yes, we will.

JAGO. What have ye done with our subscriptions?

HARNESS. [Coldly.] I have told you what we will do with them.

EVANS. Ah! will, it's always will! Ye'd have our mates desert us.

[Hubbub.]

BULGIN. [Shouting.] Hold your row!

[EVANS looks round angrily.]

HARNESS. [Lifting his voice.] Those who know their right hands from

their lefts know that the Unions are neither thieves nor traitors.

I 've said my say. Figure it out, my lads; when you want me you know

where I shall be.

[He jumps down, the crowd gives way, he passes through them, and

goes away. A BARGEMAN looks after him jerking his pipe with a

derisive gesture. The men close up in groups, and many looks

are cast at ROBERTS, who stands alone against the wall.]

EVANS. He wants ye to turn blacklegs, that's what he wants. He

wants ye to go back on us. Sooner than turn blackleg--I 'd starve, I

would.

BULGIN. Who's talkin' o' blacklegs--mind what you're saying, will

you?

BLACKSMITH. [A youth with yellow hair and huge arms.] What about

the women?

EVANS. They can stand what we can stand, I suppose, can't they?

BLACKSMITH. Ye've no wife?

EVANS. An' don't want one!

THOMAS. [Raising his voice.] Aye! Give us the power to come to

terms with London, lads.

DAVIES. [A dark, slow-fly, gloomy man.] Go up the platform, if you

got anything to say, go up an' say it.

[There are cries of "Thomas!" He is pushed towards the

platform; he ascends it with difficulty, and bares his head,

waiting for silence. A hush.]

RED-HAIRED YOUTH. [suddenly.] Coot old Thomas!

[A hoarse laugh; the bargemen exchange remarks; a hush again,

and THOMAS begins speaking.]

THOMAS. We are all in the tepth together, and it iss Nature that has

put us there.

HENRY ROUS. It's London put us there!

EVANS. It's the Union.

THOMAS. It iss not Lonton; nor it iss not the Union--it iss Nature.

It iss no disgrace whateffer to a potty to give in to Nature. For

this Nature iss a fery pig thing; it is pigger than what a man is.

There iss more years to my hett than to the hett of any one here.

It is fery pat, look you, this Going against Nature. It is pat to

make other potties suffer, when there is nothing to pe cot py it.

[A laugh. THOMAS angrily goes on.]

What are ye laughing at? It is pat, I say! We are fighting for a

principle; there is no potty that shall say I am not a peliever in

principle. Putt when Nature says "No further," then it is no coot

snapping your fingers in her face.

[A laugh from ROBERTS, and murmurs of approval.]

This Nature must pe humort. It is a man's pisiness to pe pure,

honest, just, and merciful. That's what Chapel tells you. [To

ROBERTS, angrily.] And, look you, David Roberts, Chapel tells you ye

can do that without Going against Nature.

JAGO. What about the Union?

THOMAS. I ton't trust the Union; they haf treated us like tirt.

"Do what we tell you," said they. I haf peen captain of the

furnace-men twenty years, and I say to the Union--[excitedly]--"Can you

tell me then, as well as I can tell you, what iss the right wages for

the work that these men do?" For fife and twenty years I haf paid my

moneys to the Union and--[with great excitement]--for nothings! What

iss that but roguery, for all that this Mr. Harness says!

EVANS. Hear, hear.

HENRY ROUS. Get on with you! Cut on with it then!

THOMAS. Look you, if a man toes not trust me, am I going to trust

him?

JAGO. That's right.

THOMAS. Let them alone for rogues, and act for ourselves.

[Murmurs.]

BLACKSMITH. That's what we been doin', haven't we?

THOMAS. [With increased excitement.] I wass brought up to do for

meself. I wass brought up to go without a thing, if I hat not moneys

to puy it. There iss too much, look you, of doing things with other

people's moneys. We haf fought fair, and if we haf peen beaten, it

iss no fault of ours. Gif us the power to make terms with London for

ourself; if we ton't succeed, I say it iss petter to take our peating

like men, than to tie like togs, or hang on to others' coat-tails to

make them do our pisiness for us!

EVANS. [Muttering.] Who wants to?

THOMAS. [Craning.] What's that? If I stand up to a potty, and he

knocks me town, I am not to go hollering to other potties to help me;

I am to stand up again; and if he knocks me town properly, I am to

stay there, is n't that right?

[Laughter.]

JAGO. No Union!

HENRY ROUS. Union!

[Murmurs.]

[Others take up the shout.]

EVANS. Blacklegs!

[BULGIN and the BLACKSMITH shake their fists at EVANS.]

THOMAS. [With a gesture.] I am an olt man, look you.

[A sudden silence, then murmurs again.]

LEWIS. Olt fool, with his "No Union!"

BULGIN. Them furnace chaps! For twopence I 'd smash the faces o'

the lot of them.

GREEN. If I'd a been listened to at the first!

THOMAS. [Wiping his brow.] I'm comin' now to what I was going to

say----

DAVIES. [Muttering.] An' time too!

THOMAS. [Solemnly.] Chapel says: Ton't carry on this strife! Put

an end to it!

JAGO. That's a lie! Chapel says go on!

THOMAS. [Scornfully.] Inteet! I haf ears to my head.

RED-HAIRED YOUTH. Ah! long ones!

[A laugh.]

JAGO. Your ears have misbeled you then.

THOMAS. [Excitedly.] Ye cannot be right if I am, ye cannot haf it

both ways.

RED-HAIRED YOUTH. Chapel can though!

["The Shaver" laughs; there are murmurs from the crowd.]

THOMAS. [Fixing his eyes on "The Shaver."] Ah! ye 're Going the

roat to tamnation. An' so I say to all of you. If ye co against

Chapel I will not pe with you, nor will any other Got-fearing man.

[He steps down from the platform. JAGO makes his way towards

it. There are cries of "Don't let 'im go up!"]

JAGO. Don't let him go up? That's free speech, that is. [He goes

up.] I ain't got much to say to you. Look at the matter plain; ye

've come the road this far, and now you want to chuck the journey.

We've all been in one boat; and now you want to pull in two. We

engineers have stood by you; ye 're ready now, are ye, to give us the

go-by? If we'd aknown that before, we'd not a-started out with you

so early one bright morning! That's all I 've got to say. Old man

Thomas a'n't got his Bible lesson right. If you give up to London,

or to Harness, now, it's givin' us the chuck--to save your skins--you

won't get over that, my boys; it's a dirty thing to do.

[He gets down; during his little speech, which is ironically

spoken, there is a restless discomfort in the crowd. ROUS,

stepping forward, jumps on the platform. He has an air of

fierce distraction. Sullen murmurs of disapproval from the

crowd.]

ROUS. [Speaking with great excitement.] I'm no blanky orator,

mates, but wot I say is drove from me. What I say is yuman nature.

Can a man set an' see 'is mother starve? Can 'e now?

ROBERTS. [Starting forward.] Rous!

ROUS. [Staring at him fiercely.] Sim 'Arness said fair! I've

changed my mind!

ROBERTS. Ah! Turned your coat you mean!

[The crowd manifests a great surprise.]

LEWIS. [Apostrophising Rous.] Hallo! What's turned him round?

ROUS. [Speaking with intense excitement.] 'E said fair. "Stand by

us," 'e said, "and we'll stand by you." That's where we've been

makin' our mistake this long time past; and who's to blame fort? [He

points at ROBERTS] That man there! "No," 'e said, "fight the

robbers," 'e said, "squeeze the breath out o' them!" But it's not the

breath out o' them that's being squeezed; it's the breath out of us

and ours, and that's the book of truth. I'm no orator, mates, it's

the flesh and blood in me that's speakin', it's the heart o' me.

[With a menacing, yet half-ashamed movement towards ROBERTS.] He'll

speak to you again, mark my words, but don't ye listen. [The crowd

groans.] It's hell fire that's on that man's tongue. [ROBERTS is

seen laughing.] Sim 'Arness is right. What are we without the

Union--handful o' parched leaves--a puff o' smoke. I'm no orator,

but I say: Chuck it up! Chuck it up! Sooner than go on starving the

women and the children.

[The murmurs of acquiescence almost drown the murmurs of

dissent.]

EVANS. What's turned you to blacklegging?

ROUS. [With a furious look.] Sim 'Arness knows what he's talking

about. Give us power to come to terms with London; I'm no orator,

but I say--have done wi' this black misery!

[He gives his muter a twist, jerks his head back, and jumps off

the platform. The crowd applauds and surges forward. Amid

cries of "That's enough!" "Up Union!" "Up Harness!" ROBERTS

quietly ascends the platform. There is a moment of silence.]

BLACKSMITH. We don't want to hear you. Shut it!

HENRY Rous. Get down!

[Amid such cries they surge towards the platform.]

EVANS. [Fiercely.] Let 'im speak! Roberts! Roberts!

BULGIN. [Muttering.] He'd better look out that I don't crack his

skull.

[ROBERTS faces the crowd, probing them with his eyes till they

gradually become silent. He begins speaking. One of the

bargemen rises and stands.]

ROBERTS. You don't want to hear me, then? You'll listen to Rous and

to that old man, but not to me. You'll listen to Sim Harness of the

Union that's treated you so fair; maybe you'll listen to those men

from London? Ah! You groan! What for? You love their feet on your

necks, don't you? [Then as BULGIN elbows his way towards the

platform, with calm bathos.] You'd like to break my jaw, John

Bulgin. Let me speak, then do your smashing, if it gives you

pleasure. [BULGIN Stands motionless and sullen.] Am I a liar, a

coward, a traitor? If only I were, ye'd listen to me, I'm sure.

[The murmurings cease, and there is now dead silence.] Is there a

man of you here that has less to gain by striking? Is there a man of

you that had more to lose? Is there a man of you that has given up

eight hundred pounds since this trouble here began? Come now, is

there? How much has Thomas given up--ten pounds or five, or what?

You listened to him, and what had he to say? "None can pretend," he

said, "that I'm not a believer in principle--[with biting irony]--but

when Nature says: 'No further, 't es going agenst Nature.'" I tell

you if a man cannot say to Nature: "Budge me from this if ye can!"--

[with a sort of exaltation] his principles are but his belly. "Oh,

but," Thomas says, "a man can be pure and honest, just and merciful,

and take off his hat to Nature!" I tell you Nature's neither pure

nor honest, just nor merciful. You chaps that live over the hill,

an' go home dead beat in the dark on a snowy night--don't ye fight

your way every inch of it? Do ye go lyin' down an' trustin' to the

tender mercies of this merciful Nature? Try it and you'll soon know

with what ye've got to deal. 'T es only by that--[he strikes a blow

with his clenched fist]--in Nature's face that a man can be a man.

"Give in," says Thomas, "go down on your knees; throw up your foolish

fight, an' perhaps," he said, "perhaps your enemy will chuck you down

a crust."

JAGO. Never!

EVANS. Curse them!

THOMAS. I nefer said that.

ROBERTS. [Bitingly.] If ye did not say it, man, ye meant it.

An' what did ye say about Chapel? "Chapel's against it," ye said.

"She 's against it!" Well, if Chapel and Nature go hand in hand,

it's the first I've ever heard of it. That young man there--

[pointing to ROUS]--said I 'ad 'ell fire on my tongue. If I had I

would use it all to scorch and wither this talking of surrender.

Surrendering 's the work of cowards and traitors.

HENRY ROUS. [As GEORGE ROUS moves forward.] Go for him, George--

don't stand his lip!

ROBERTS. [Flinging out his finger.] Stop there, George Rous, it's

no time this to settle personal matters. [ROUS stops.] But there

was one other spoke to you--Mr. Simon Harness. We have not much to

thank Mr. Harness and the Union for. They said to us "Desert your

mates, or we'll desert you." An' they did desert us.

EVANS. They did.

ROBERTS. Mr. Simon Harness is a clever man, but he has come too

late. [With intense conviction.] For all that Mr. Simon Harness

says, for all that Thomas, Rous, for all that any man present here

can say--We've won the fight!

[The crowd sags nearer, looking eagerly up.]

[With withering scorn.] You've felt the pinch o't in your bellies.

You've forgotten what that fight 'as been; many times I have told

you; I will tell you now this once again. The fight o' the country's

body and blood against a blood-sucker. The fight of those that spend

themselves with every blow they strike and every breath they draw,

against a thing that fattens on them, and grows and grows by the law

of merciful Nature. That thing is Capital! A thing that buys the

sweat o' men's brows, and the tortures o' their brains, at its own

price. Don't I know that? Wasn't the work o' my brains bought for

seven hundred pounds, and has n't one hundred thousand pounds been

gained them by that seven hundred without the stirring of a finger.

It is a thing that will take as much and give you as little as it

can. That's Capital! A thing that will say--"I'm very sorry for

you, poor fellows--you have a cruel time of it, I know," but will not

give one sixpence of its dividends to help you have a better time.

That's Capital! Tell me, for all their talk, is there one of them

that will consent to another penny on the Income Tax to help the

poor? That's Capital! A white-faced, stony-hearted monster! Ye

have got it on its knees; are ye to give up at the last minute to

save your miserable bodies pain? When I went this morning to those

old men from London, I looked into their very 'earts. One of them

was sitting there--Mr. Scantlebury, a mass of flesh nourished on us:

sittin' there for all the world like the shareholders in this

Company, that sit not moving tongue nor finger, takin' dividends a

great dumb ox that can only be roused when its food is threatened.

I looked into his eyes and I saw he was afraid--afraid for himself

and his dividends; afraid for his fees, afraid of the very

shareholders he stands for; and all but one of them's afraid--like

children that get into a wood at night, and start at every rustle of

the leaves. I ask you, men--[he pauses, holding out his hand till

there is utter silence]--give me a free hand to tell them: "Go you

back to London. The men have nothing for you!" [A murmuring.] Give

me that, an' I swear to you, within a week you shall have from London

all you want.

EVANS, JAGO, and OTHERS. A free hand! Give him a free hand! Bravo

--bravo!

ROBERTS. 'T is not for this little moment of time we're fighting

[the murmuring dies], not for ourselves, our own little bodies, and

their wants, 't is for all those that come after throughout all time.

[With intense sadness.] Oh! men--for the love o' them, don't roll

up another stone upon their heads, don't help to blacken the sky, an'

let the bitter sea in over them. They're welcome to the worst that

can happen to me, to the worst that can happen to us all, are n't

they--are n't they? If we can shake [passionately] that white-faced

monster with the bloody lips, that has sucked the life out of

ourselves, our wives, and children, since the world began. [Dropping

the note of passion but with the utmost weight and intensity.] If we

have not the hearts of men to stand against it breast to breast, and

eye to eye, and force it backward till it cry for mercy, it will go

on sucking life; and we shall stay forever what we are [in almost a

whisper], less than the very dogs.

[An utter stillness, and ROBERTS stands rocking his body

slightly, with his eyes burning the faces of the crowd.]

EVANS and JAGO. [Suddenly.] Roberts! [The shout is taken up.]

[There is a slight movement in the crowd, and MADGE passing

below the towing-path, stops by the platform, looking up at

ROBERTS. A sudden doubting silence.]

ROBERTS. "Nature," says that old man, "give in to Nature." I tell

you, strike your blow in Nature's face--an' let it do its worst!

[He catches sight of MADGE, his brows contract, he looks away.]

MADGE. [In a low voice-close to the platform.] Your wife's dying!

[ROBERTS glares at her as if torn from some pinnacle of

exaltation.]

ROBERTS. [Trying to stammer on.] I say to you--answer them--answer

them----

[He is drowned by the murmur in the crowd.]

THOMAS. [Stepping forward.] Ton't you hear her, then?

ROBERTS. What is it? [A dead silence.]

THOMAS. Your wife, man!

[ROBERTS hesitates, then with a gesture, he leaps down, and goes

away below the towing-path, the men making way for him. The

standing bargeman opens and prepares to light a lantern.

Daylight is fast failing.]

MADGE. He need n't have hurried! Annie Roberts is dead. [Then in

the silence, passionately.] You pack of blinded hounds! How many

more women are you going to let to die?

[The crowd shrinks back from her, and breaks up in groups, with

a confused, uneasy movement. MADGE goes quickly away below the

towing-path. There is a hush as they look after her.]

LEWIS. There's a spitfire, for ye!

BULGIN. [Growling.] I'll smash 'er jaw.

GREEN. If I'd a-been listened to, that poor woman----

THOMAS. It's a judgment on him for going against Chapel. I tolt him

how 't would be!

EVANS. All the more reason for sticking by 'im. [A cheer.] Are you

goin' to desert him now 'e 's down? Are you going to chuck him over,

now 'e 's lost 'is wife?

[The crowd is murmuring and cheering all at once.]

ROUS. [Stepping in front of platform.] Lost his wife! Aye! Can't

ye see? Look at home, look at your own wives! What's to save them?

Ye'll have the same in all your houses before long!

LEWIS. Aye, aye!

HENRY ROUS. Right! George, right!

[There are murmurs of assent.]

ROUS. It's not us that's blind, it's Roberts. How long will ye put

up with 'im!

HENRY, ROUS, BULGIN, DAVIES. Give 'im the chuck!

[The cry is taken up.]

EVANS. [Fiercely.] Kick a man that's down? Down?

HENRY ROUS. Stop his jaw there!

[EVANS throws up his arm at a threat from BULGIN. The bargeman,

who has lighted the lantern, holds it high above his head.]

ROUS. [Springing on to the platform.] What brought him down then,

but 'is own black obstinacy? Are ye goin' to follow a man that can't

see better than that where he's goin'?

EVANS. He's lost 'is wife.

ROUS. An' who's fault's that but his own. 'Ave done with 'im, I

say, before he's killed your own wives and mothers.

DAVIES. Down 'im!

HENRY ROUS. He's finished!

BROWN. We've had enough of 'im!

BLACKSMITH. Too much!

[The crowd takes up these cries, excepting only EVANS, JAGO, and

GREEN, who is seen to argue mildly with the BLACKSMITH.]

ROUS. [Above the hubbub.] We'll make terms with the Union, lads.

[Cheers.]

EVANS. [Fiercely.] Ye blacklegs!

BULGIN. [Savagely-squaring up to him.] Who are ye callin'

blacklegs, Rat?

[EVANS throws up his fists, parries the blow, and returns it.

They fight. The bargemen are seen holding up the lantern and

enjoying the sight. Old THOMAS steps forward and holds out his

hands.]

THOMAS. Shame on your strife!

[The BLACKSMITH, BROWN, LEWIS, and the RED-HAIRED YOUTH pull

EVANS and BULGIN apart. The stage is almost dark.]

The curtain falls.

Strife: A Drama in Three Acts · 第 2 / 3 章