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!