to help you have a better time. That's Capital! Tell me, for all their talk, is there one of them that will consent to another penny on the Income Tax to help the poor? That's Capital! A white-faced, stony-hearted monster! Ye have got it on its knees; are ye to give up at the last minute to save your miserable bodies pain? When I went this morning to those old men from London, I looked into their very 'earts. One of them was sitting there—Mr. Scantlebury, a mass of flesh nourished on us: sittin' there for all the world like the shareholders in this Company, that sit not moving tongue nor finger, takin' dividends a great dumb ox that can only be roused when its food is threatened. I looked into his eyes and I saw he was afraid—afraid for himself and his dividends; afraid for his fees, afraid of the very shareholders he stands for; and all but one of them's afraid—like children that get into a wood at night, and start at every rustle of the leaves. I ask you, men—[he pauses, holding out his hand till there is utter silence]—give me a free hand to tell them: "Go you back to London. The men have nothing for you!" [A murmuring.] Give me that, an' I swear to you, within a week you shall have from London all you want.
EVANS, JAGO, and OTHERS. A free hand! Give him a free hand! Bravo —bravo!
ROBERTS. 'T is not for this little moment of time we're fighting [the murmuring dies], not for ourselves, our own little bodies, and their wants, 't is for all those that come after throughout all time. [With intense sadness.] Oh! men—for the love o' them, don't roll up another stone upon their heads, don't help to blacken the sky, an' let the bitter sea in over them. They're welcome to the worst that can happen to me, to the worst that can happen to us all, aren't they—aren't they? If we can shake [passionately] that white-faced monster with the bloody lips, that has sucked the life out of ourselves, our wives, and children, since the world began. [Dropping the note of passion but with the utmost weight and intensity.] If we have not the hearts of men to stand against it breast to breast, and eye to eye, and force it backward till it cry for mercy, it will go on sucking life; and we shall stay forever what we are [in almost a whisper], less than the very dogs.
[An utter stillness, and ROBERTS stands rocking his body slightly, with his eyes burning the faces of the crowd.]
EVANS and JAGO. [Suddenly.] Roberts! [The shout is taken up.]
[There is a slight movement in the crowd, and MADGE passing below the towing-path, stops by the platform, looking up at ROBERTS. A sudden doubting silence.]
ROBERTS. "Nature," says that old man, "give in to Nature." I tell you, strike your blow in Nature's face—an' let it do its worst!
[He catches sight of MADGE, his brows contract, he looks away.]
MADGE. [In a low voice-close to the platform.] Your wife's dying!
[ROBERTS glares at her as if torn from some pinnacle of exaltation.]
ROBERTS. [Trying to stammer on.] I say to you—answer them—answer them—
[He is drowned by the murmur in the crowd.]
THOMAS. [Stepping forward.] Ton't you hear her, then?
ROBERTS. What is it? [A dead silence.]
THOMAS. Your wife, man!
[ROBERTS hesitates, then with a gesture, he leaps down, and goes away below the towing-path, the men making way for him. The standing bargeman opens and prepares to light a lantern. Daylight is fast failing.]
MADGE. He needn't have hurried! Annie Roberts is dead. [Then in the silence, passionately.] You pack of blinded hounds! How many more women are you going to let to die?
[The crowd shrinks back from her, and breaks up in groups, with a confused, uneasy movement. MADGE goes quickly away below the towing-path. There is a hush as they look after her.]
LEWIS. There's a spitfire, for ye!
BULGIN. [Growling.] I'll smash 'er jaw.
GREEN. If I'd a-been listened to, that poor woman—
THOMAS.
EVANS, JAGO, and OTHERS. A free hand! Give him a free hand! Bravo —bravo!
ROBERTS. 'T is not for this little moment of time we're fighting [the murmuring dies], not for ourselves, our own little bodies, and their wants, 't is for all those that come after throughout all time. [With intense sadness.] Oh! men—for the love o' them, don't roll up another stone upon their heads, don't help to blacken the sky, an' let the bitter sea in over them. They're welcome to the worst that can happen to me, to the worst that can happen to us all, aren't they—aren't they? If we can shake [passionately] that white-faced monster with the bloody lips, that has sucked the life out of ourselves, our wives, and children, since the world began. [Dropping the note of passion but with the utmost weight and intensity.] If we have not the hearts of men to stand against it breast to breast, and eye to eye, and force it backward till it cry for mercy, it will go on sucking life; and we shall stay forever what we are [in almost a whisper], less than the very dogs.
[An utter stillness, and ROBERTS stands rocking his body slightly, with his eyes burning the faces of the crowd.]
EVANS and JAGO. [Suddenly.] Roberts! [The shout is taken up.]
[There is a slight movement in the crowd, and MADGE passing below the towing-path, stops by the platform, looking up at ROBERTS. A sudden doubting silence.]
ROBERTS. "Nature," says that old man, "give in to Nature." I tell you, strike your blow in Nature's face—an' let it do its worst!
[He catches sight of MADGE, his brows contract, he looks away.]
MADGE. [In a low voice-close to the platform.] Your wife's dying!
[ROBERTS glares at her as if torn from some pinnacle of exaltation.]
ROBERTS. [Trying to stammer on.] I say to you—answer them—answer them—
[He is drowned by the murmur in the crowd.]
THOMAS. [Stepping forward.] Ton't you hear her, then?
ROBERTS. What is it? [A dead silence.]
THOMAS. Your wife, man!
[ROBERTS hesitates, then with a gesture, he leaps down, and goes away below the towing-path, the men making way for him. The standing bargeman opens and prepares to light a lantern. Daylight is fast failing.]
MADGE. He needn't have hurried! Annie Roberts is dead. [Then in the silence, passionately.] You pack of blinded hounds! How many more women are you going to let to die?
[The crowd shrinks back from her, and breaks up in groups, with a confused, uneasy movement. MADGE goes quickly away below the towing-path. There is a hush as they look after her.]
LEWIS. There's a spitfire, for ye!
BULGIN. [Growling.] I'll smash 'er jaw.
GREEN. If I'd a-been listened to, that poor woman—
THOMAS.
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