He struck me.—They are killing us.—Where is my child?—Help.—Help!
[The crowd forms again at the foot of the steps, and faces Abimelech angrily]
Abimelech
Are you all mad? The enemy is attacking us. Since dawn I have been on the ramparts to marshal the defence, and you meanwhile are raising a tumult at our backs. What would ye, rabble?
Bread.—We are hungry.—Bread.—Our children have nothing to eat.
Abimelech
Everyone has had his loaf.
Voices
Not I.—They left me out.—Not enough.