He might ha' spared hisself the trouble—that won't help him. It's something else they've set their minds on here. It's the factories. They're goin' to smash up the power-looms. For it's them that is ruinin' the hand-loom weaver. Even a blind man might see that. No! the good folks knows what they're after, an' no sheriff an' no p'lice superintendent'll bring them to reason—much less a bit of a board. Him as has seen 'em at work already knows what's comin'.
HOUSE INMATES
"Did any one ever see such a crowd!"—"What can these be wantin'?"—[Hastily.] "They're crossin' the bridge!"—[Anxiously.] "They're never comin' over on this side, are they?"—[In excitement and terror.] "It's to us they're comin'! They're comin' to us! They're comin' to fetch the weavers out o' their houses!"
[General flight. The entry-room is empty. A crowd of dirty, dusty rioters rush in, their faces scarlet with brandy, and excitement; tattered, untidy-looking, as if they had been up all night. With the shout: "Weavers, come out!" they disperse themselves through the house. BECKER and several other young weavers, armed with cudgels and poles, come into OLD HILSE'S room. When they see the old man at his loom they start, and cool down a little.
BECKER
Come, father Hilse, stop that. Leave your work to them as wants to work. There's no need now for you to be doin' yourself harm. You'll be well taken care of.
FIRST YOUNG WEAVER
You'll never need to go hungry to bed again.
SECOND YOUNG WEAVER
The weaver's goin' to have a roof over his head an' a shirt on his back once more.