Oblige me, Mr. Dreissiger, by not speaking to him at present.
I'll see to it that you get complete satisfaction, or my name's not
Heide.
DREISSIGER
That's not enough for me, though. He goes before the magistrates. My
mind's made up.
_JAEGER is led in by five dyers, who have come straight from their
work--faces, hands, and clothes stained with dye. The prisoner, his
cap set jauntily on the side of his head, presents an appearance of
impudent gaiety; he is excited by the brandy he has just drunk._
JAEGER
Hounds that you are!--Call yourselves working men!--Pretend to be
comrades! Before I would do such a thing as lay hands on a mate, I'd see
my hand rot off my arm!
[_At a sign from the SUPERINTENDENT KUTSCHE orders the dyers to let
go their victim. JAEGER straightens himself up, quite free and easy.
Both doors are guarded._
SUPERINTENDENT
[_Shouts to JAEGER._] Off with your cap, lout! [_JAEGER takes it off, but
very slowly, still with an impudent grin on his face._] What's your name?
JAEGER
What's yours? I'm not your swineherd.
[_Great excitement is produced among the audience by this reply._
DREISSIGER
This is too much of a good thing.
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