Certainly, most certainly. We must begin by having a look at him at close
quarters. Oblige me, Mr. Dreissiger, by not speaking to him at present.
I'll see to it that you get complete satisfaction, or my name's not
Heide.
DREISSIGER
That's not enough for me, though. He goes before the magistrates. My mind's made up.
JAEGER is led in by five dyers, who have come straight from their work—faces, hands, and clothes stained with dye. The prisoner, his cap set jauntily on the side of his head, presents an appearance of impudent gaiety; he is excited by the brandy he has just drunk.
JAEGER
Hounds that you are!—Call yourselves working men!—Pretend to be comrades! Before I would do such a thing as lay hands on a mate, I'd see my hand rot off my arm!
[At a sign from the SUPERINTENDENT KUTSCHE orders the dyers to let go their victim. JAEGER straightens himself up, quite free and easy. Both doors are guarded.
SUPERINTENDENT
[Shouts to JAEGER.] Off with your cap, lout! [JAEGER takes it off, but very slowly, still with an impudent grin on his face.] What's your name?