[Chewing.] It's two years now since I took the sacrament. I went straight after that an' sold my Sunday coat, an' we bought a good bit o' pork, an' since then never a mouthful of meat has passed my lips till to-night.
JAEGER
We don't need no meat! The manufacturers eats it for us. It's the fat o' the land they lives on. Whoever don't believe that has only to go down to Bielau and Peterswaldau. He'll see fine things there—palace upon palace, with towers and iron railings and plate-glass windows. Who do they all belong to? Why, of course, the manufacturers! No signs of bad times there! Baked and boiled and fried—horses and carriages and governesses—they've money to pay for all that and goodness knows how much more. They're swelled out to burstin' with pride and good livin'.
ANSORGE
Things was different in my young days. Then the manufacturers let the weaver have his share. Now they keeps everything to theirselves. An' would you like to know what's at the bottom of it all? It's that the fine folks nowadays believes neither in God nor devil. What do they care about commandments or punishments? And so they steals our last scrap o' bread, an' leaves us no chance of earnin' the barest living. For it's their fault. If our manufacturers was good men, there would be no bad times for us.
JAEGER
Listen, then, and I'll read you something that will please you. [He takes one or two loose papers from his pocket.] I say, August, run and fetch another quart from the public-house. Eh, boy, do you laugh all day long?
MOTHER BAUMERT
No one knows why, but our August's always happy—grins an' laughs, come what may. Off with you then, quick! [Exit AUGUST with the empty brandy-bottle.] You've got something good now, eh, father?