PULLEN. We don't want no strike. If us wants brass, let's ask un for it fair an' straight. Striking's not th' square thing.
CHARLIE (roused and speaking passionately). Are you blind, man? Is Thompson straight with you. Do you expect a bloated bigwig of the British belly class to give you your rights before you force him into it? (Clavering makes a gesture of despair.) In the whole history of industrial employment have employers ever given employés their rights until they were forced to? (Clavering tries to cheek the stream in vain.) They tell you of humane legislation, of factory acts and sanitary regulations. Humane legislation! What was it but the capitalist ruling classes giving way inch by inch before the pressure of the masses?
(Clavering puts his hand on Charlie s shoulder. Pullen has been retreating step by step before the flow of eloquence and now stands cornered and unaole to escape in the left hand corner. Charlie swings round irritably on Clavering.)
CHARLIE. What's the matter?
CLAV. (soothingly). Yes, yes, yes, old man. Keep all that for in there. (Nodding at door c.) Don t waste it on the desert air of an ante-room. Let Pullen go. I want to talk to you.
PULLEN. Aye. Soom one 'ad best talk to 'im if 'e means to go on that gait in theer.
CLAV. (impatiently). Yes. All right, my man. Won't you go on to the platform now?
PULLEN. Aye. (Crossing.) A'm going. (He opens the door c. Livesey is heard speaking inside.)
LIVESEY (off, c., his back visible to audience as he stands speaking). Comrades, a strike is a terrible thing. Do not let us mak' light o' it. When we call on you to decide whether to strike or not——————- (With a gesture of disgust and a muttered "Yah," Pullen goes out c. and closes the door behind him.)
CHARLIE. Thank goodness they're not all that type—pig-headed, beery lout. Now, old man, I suppose you want to talk about our speeches. It's no good both saying the same thing. .