I pay for my own drink. [_Takes his glass
and sits down beside BAUMERT and ANSORGE. Clapping the latter on the
stomach._] What's the weavers' food so nice? Sauerkraut and roasted lice!
OLD BAUMERT
[_Drunk with excitement._] But what would you say now if they'd made up
their minds as how they would put up with it no longer.
WITTIG
[_With pretended astonishment, staring open-mouthed at the old weaver._]
Heinerle! you don't mean to tell me that that's you? [_Laughs
immoderately._] O Lord, O Lord! I could laugh myself to death. Old
Baumert risin' in rebellion! We'll have the tailors at it next, and then
there'll be a rebellion among the baa-lambs, and the rats and the mice.
Damn it all, but we'll see some sport.
[_He nearly splits with laughter._
OLD BAUMERT
You needn't go on like that, Wittig. I'm the same man I've always been. I
still say 'twould be better if things could be put right peaceably.
WITTIG
Rot! How could it be done peaceably? Did they do it peaceably in France?
Did Robespeer tickle the rich men's palms? No! It was: Away with them,
every one! To the gilyoteen with 'em! Allongs onfong! You've got your
work before you. The geese'll not fly ready roasted into your mouths.
Pages:
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257