_] Oh, our Father in heaven! defend the
poor weavers, protect my poor brothers.
[_A short pause ensues._
OLD HILSE
[_To himself, painfully agitated._] There's blood flowin' now.
GOTTLIEB
[_Had started up and grasped the axe when the shooting was heard; deathly
pale, almost beside himself with excitement._] An' am I to lie to heel
like a dog still?
A GIRL
[_Calls from the entry-room._] Father Hilse, father Hilse! get away from
the window. A bullet's just flown in at ours upstairs.
[_Disappears._
MIELCHEN
[_Puts her head in at the window, laughing._] Gran'father, gran'father,
they've shot with their guns. Two or three's been knocked down, an' one
of 'em's turnin' round and round like a top, an' one's twistin' hisself
like a sparrow when its head's bein' pulled of. An' oh, if you saw all
the blood that came pourin'--!
[_Disappears._
A WEAVER'S WIFE
Yes, there's two or three'll never get up again.
AN OLD WEAVER
[_In the entry-room._] Look out! They're goin' to make a rush on the
soldiers.
A SECOND WEAVER
[_Wildly._] Look, look, look at the women! skirts up, an' spittin' in the
soldiers' faces already!
A WEAVER'S WIFE
[_Calls in.
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