JOE. Let your loom be, Matthew, and come here. We've need of you.
(Matthew enters in his shirt sleeves, stout waistcoat and breeches. He is a man of sixty, solidly built with square face and grey hair, bowed with bending to his loom.) Matthew. What's the to-do about?
MARY (holding his arm). They've come to trap you, Matthew.
MATTHEW. Trap me? They'll be wide awake.
MARY. Don't listen to them, Matt. They're Radicals.
JOE We're Reformers. You know us, Matthew.
MATTHEW. Aye, I know you. You, Martin! You become a Radical?
MARTIN. Empty bellies make Radicals, Mr. Butterworth. Empty bellies and the Corn Tax and bread at thirteenpence the quartern loaf.
MATTHEW. Empty bellies make fools then. I can hear you've picked up the Radical cant. What do you want with me?
JOE. We've come to reason with you, Matthew.