The Dramatic Works of Gerhart Hauptmann Volume I Part 86

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 rubbis.h.i.+n' 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? n.o.body'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 s.h.i.+rt 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