The Dramatic Works of Gerhart Hauptmann
Chapter 57 : BECKER Its all the same to me whether I starve at my loom or by the roadside. DREISSIGE

BECKER

It's all the same to me whether I starve at my loom or by the roadside.

DREISSIGER

Out you go, then, this moment!

BECKER

[_Determinedly._] Not without my pay.

DREISSIGER

How much is owing to the fellow, Neumann?

NEUMANN

One and threepence.

DREISSIGER

[_Takes the money hurriedly ont of the cas.h.i.+er's hand, and flings it on the table, so that some of the coins roll off on to the floor._] There you are, then; and now, out of my sight with you!

BECKER

Not without my pay.

DREISSIGER

Don't you see it lying there? If you don't take it and go ... It's exactly twelve now ... The dyers are coming out for their dinner ...

BECKER

I gets my pay into my hand--here--that's where!

[_Points with the fingers of his right hand at the palm of his left._

DREISSIGER

[_To the APPRENTICE._] Pick up the money, Tilgner.

[_The APPRENTICE lifts the money and puts it into BECKER'S hand._

BECKER

Everything in proper order.

[_Deliberately takes an old purse out of his pocket and puts the money into it._

DREISSIGER

[_As BECKER still does not move away._] Well? Do you want me to come and help you?

[_Signs of agitation are observable among the crowd of weavers. A long, loud sigh is heard, and then a fall. General interest is at once diverted to this new event._

DREISSIGER

What's the matter there?

CHORUS OF WEAVERS AND WOMEN

"Some one's fainted."--"It's a little sickly boy."--"Is it a fit, or what?"

DREISSIGER

What do you say? Fainted?

[_He goes nearer._

OLD WEAVER

There he lies, any way.

[_They make room. A boy of about eight is seen lying on the floor as if dead._

DREISSIGER

Does any one know the boy?

OLD WEAVER

He's not from our village.

OLD BAUMERT

He's like one of weaver Heinrich's boys. [_Looks at him more closely._]

Yes, that's Heinrich's little Philip.

DREISSIGER

Where do they live?

OLD BAUMERT

Up near us in Kaschbach, sir. He goes round playin' music in the evenings, and all day he's at the loom. They've nine children an' a tenth a coming.

CHORUS OF WEAVERS AND WOMEN