[_Host, hostess, and their daughter, WIEGAND, and the TRAVELLER all laugh._

JAEGER

If the cap fits, wear it.

TRAVELLER

Your affairs seem to be in a thriving condition, young man, if I may be allowed to say so.

JAEGER

I can't complain. I'm a traveller in made-up goods. I go shares with the manufacturers. The nearer starvation the weaver is, the better I fare.

His want b.u.t.ters my bread.

BECKER

Well done, Moritz! You gave it him that time. Here's to you!

[_WELZEL has brought the corn-brandy. On his way back to the counter he stops, turns round slowly, and stands, an embodiment of phlegmatic strength, facing the weavers._

WELZEL

[_Calmly but emphatically._] You let the gentleman alone. He's done you no harm.

YOUNG WEAVERS

And we're doing him no harm.

[_MRS. WELZEL has exchanged a few words with the TRAVELLER. She takes the cup with the remains of his coffee and carries it into the parlour. The TRAVELLER follows her amidst the laughter of the weavers._

YOUNG WEAVERS

[_Singing._] "The Dreissigers the hangmen are, Servants no whit behind them."

WELZEL

Hush-sh! Sing that song anywhere else you like, but not in my house.

FIRST OLD WEAVER

He's quite right. Stop that singin', lads.

BECKER

[_Roars._] But we must march past Dreissiger's, boys, and let him hear it ones more.

WIEGAND

You'd better take care--you may march once too often!

[_Laughter and cries of_ Ho, ho!

_WITTIG has entered; a grey-haired old smith, bareheaded, with leather ap.r.o.n and wooden shoes, sooty from the smithy. He is standing at the counter waiting for his schnapps._

WITTIG

Let 'em go on with their doin's. The dogs as barks most, bites least.

OLD WEAVERS

Wittig, Wittig!

WITTIG

Here he is. What do you want with him?

OLD WEAVERS

"It's Wittig!"--"Wittig, Wittig!"--"Come here, Wittig."--"Sit beside us, Wittig."

WITTIG

Do you think I would sit beside a set of rascals like you?

JAEGER

Come and take a gla.s.s with us.

WITTIG

Keep your brandy to yourselves. I pay for my own drink. [_Takes his gla.s.s 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.

d.a.m.n 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