GUY. That's good.
MATTHEW. Is it? I'll tell you this much, Mr. Barlow, it's a bad night's work you've done.
GUY. If you're talking to me, it's the best night's work I've ever done.
MATTHEW (morosely). I was talking to your father.
EPHRAIM. Well, well, we must agree to differ.
MATTHEW. And it won't be the last of our differences, neither. It's my punishment, this is. I've been a proud man and I'm humbled. Some weaver lads come here this very night asking me to join in with them.
EPHRAIM. Join? In what?
MATTHEW. Ah, well, I'll leave you to guess in what. I sent them off with a good big flea in their ear: told them a hand-loom weaver had nowt to do with their sort. I've everything to do with their sort now. I'm one of them, and if they have owt to say, or do against you and your ways, I'll say and do it with them. You've made a Radical to-night.
EPHRAIM. Now, Matt, don't try to threaten me. We've met as friends too often in the days gone by for that.
MATTHEW. Yes, before you started getting up in the world by climbing on other men's shoulders.