In
the course of a few moments their timidity is overcome, and the poor,
thin, ragged or patched figures, many of them sickly-looking,
disperse themselves through DREISSIGER'S room and the drawing-room,
first gazing timidly and curiously at everything, then beginning to
touch things. Girls sit down on the sofas, whole groups admire
themselves in the mirrors, men stand up on chairs, examine the
pictures and take them down. There is a steady influx of
miserable-looking creatures from the hall._
FIRST OLD WEAVER
[_Entering._] No, no, this is carryin' it too far. They've started
smashin' things downstairs. There's no sense nor reason in that. There'll
be a bad end to it. No man in his wits would do that. I'll keep clear of
such goings on.
_JAEGER, BECKER, WITTIG carrying a wooden pail, BAUMERT, and a number
of other old and young weavers, rush in as if in pursuit of
something, shouting hoarsely._
JAEGER
Where has he gone?
BECKER
Where's the cruel brute?
BAUMERT
If we can eat grass he may eat sawdust.
WITTIG
We'll hang him when we catch him.
FIRST YOUNG WEAVER
We'll take him by the legs and fling him out at the window, on to the
stones.
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