WILLIE. And now you're out on strike—now you've been out for a week pretty nearly, what further are you? I heard a great deal of talk about what you were going to do. Well, what ARE you going to do? You don't know. You've not the smallest idea. You haven't any idea whatsoever. You've got your leaders. Now then, Job Arthur, throw a little light on the way in front, will you: for it seems to me we're lost in a bog. Which way are we to steer? Come—give the word, and let's gee-up.
JOB ARTHUR. You ask me which way we are to go. I say we can't go our own way, because of the obstacles that lie in front. You've got to remove the obstacles from the way.
WILLIE. So said Balaam's ass. But you're not an ass—beg pardon; and you're not Balaam—you're Job. And we've all got to be little Jobs, learning how to spell patience backwards. We've lost our jobs and we've found a Job. It's picking up a scorpion when you're looking for an egg.—Tell us what you propose doing.... Remove an obstacle from the way! What obstacle? And whose way?
JOB ARTHUR. I think it's pretty plain what the obstacle is.
WILLIE. Oh, ay. Tell us then.
JOB ARTHUR. The obstacle to Labour is Capital.
WILLIE. And how are we going to put salt on Capital's tail?
JOB ARTHUR. By Labour we mean us working men; and by Capital we mean those that derive benefit from us, take the cream off us and leave us the skim.
WILLIE. Oh, yes.
JOB ARTHUR. So that, if you're going to remove the obstacle, you've got to remove the masters, and all that belongs to them. Does everybody agree with me?