An' if you _are_ badly off just
now, whose fault is it but your own? What did you do when trade was good?
Drank an' squandered all you made. If you had saved a bit then, you'd
have it to fall back on now when times is bad, and not need to be goin'
stealin' yarn and wood.
FIRST YOUNG WEAVER
[_Standing with several comrades in the lobby or outer room, calls in at
the door._] What's a peasant but a peasant, though he lies in bed till
nine?
FIRST OLD WEAVER
The peasant an' the count, it's the same story with 'em both. Says the
peasant when a weaver wants a house: I'll give you a little bit of a hole
to live in, an' you'll pay me so much rent in money, an' the rest of it
you'll make up by helpin' me to get in my hay an' my corn--and if that
don't please you, why, then you may go elsewhere. He tries another, and
to the second he says the same as to the first.
BAUMERT
[_Angrily._] The weaver's like a bone that every dog takes a gnaw at.
PEASANT
[_Furious._] You starvin' curs, you're no good for anything. Can you yoke
a plough? Can you draw a straight furrow or throw a bundle of sheaves on
to a cart. You're fit for nothing but to idle about an' go after the
women.
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