HORNIG
Not mine. What I'm tellin' you's as true as the Bible. I wouldn't believe
it myself if I hadn't stood there an' seen it with my own eyes--as I see
you now, Gottlieb. They've wrecked his house from the cellar to the roof.
The good china came flyin' out at the garret windows, rattlin' down the
roof. God only knows how many pieces of fustian are lying soakin' in the
river! The water can't get away for them--it's running over the banks,
the colour of washin'-blue with all the indigo they've poured out at the
windows. Clouds of sky-blue dust was flyin' along. Oh, it's a terrible
destruction they've worked! And it's not only the house ... it's the
dye-works too ... an' the stores! They've broken the stair rails, they've
torn up the fine flooring--smashed the lookin'-glasses--cut an' hacked
an' torn an' smashed the sofas an' the chairs.--It's awful--it's worse
than war.
OLD HILSE
An' you would have me believe that my fellow weavers did all that?
[_He shakes his head incredulously._
[_Other tenants of the house have collected at the door and are
listening eagerly._
HORNIG
Who else, I'd like to know? I could put names to every one of 'em.
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