Strife by John Galsworthy Read Free Book Online Page B

at a time when we were not prepared for them. The Unions live by justice, not to one, but all. Any fair man will tell you—you were ill-advised! I don't say you go too far for that which you're entitled to, but you're going too far for the moment; you've dug a pit for yourselves. Are you to stay there, or are you to climb out? Come!
     
    LEWIS. [A clean-cut Welshman with a dark moustache.] You've hit it, Mister! Which is it to be?
     
    [Another movement in the crowd, and ROUS, coming quickly, takes his stand next THOMAS.]
     
    HARNESS. Cut your demands to the right pattern, and we'll see you through; refuse, and don't expect me to waste my time coming down here again. I'm not the sort that speaks at random, as you ought to know by this time. If you're the sound men I take you for—no matter who advises you against it—[he fixes his eyes on ROBERTS] you 'll make up your minds to come in, and trust to us to get your terms. Which is it to be? Hands together, and victory or the starvation you've got now?
     
    [A prolonged murmur from the crowd.]
     
    JAGO. [Sullenly.] Talk about what you know.
     
    HARNESS. [Lifting his voice above the murmur.] Know? [With cold passion.] All that you've been through, my friend, I've been through—I was through it when I was no bigger than [pointing to a youth] that shaver there; the Unions then weren't what they are now. What's made them strong? It's hands together that's made them strong. I've been through it all, I tell you, the brand's on my soul yet. I know what you've suffered—there's nothing you can tell me that I don't know; but the whole is greater than the part, and you are only the part. Stand by us, and we will stand by you.
     
    [Quartering them with his eyes, he waits. The murmuring swells; the men form little groups. GREEN, BULGIN, and LEWIS talk together.]
     
    LEWIS. Speaks very sensible, the Union chap.
     
    GREEN. [Quietly.] Ah! if I 'd a been listened to, you'd 'ave 'eard sense these two months past.
     
    [The bargemen are seen laughing. ]
     
    LEWIS. [Pointing.] Look at those two blanks over the fence there!
     
    BULGIN. [With gloomy violence.] They'd best stop their cackle, or I'll break their jaws.
     
    JAGO. [Suddenly.] You say the furnace men's paid enough?
     
    HARNESS. I did not say they were paid enough; I said they were paid as much as the furnace men in similar works elsewhere.
     
    EVANS. That's a lie! [Hubbub.] What about Harper's?
     
    HARNESS. [With cold irony.] You may look at home for lies, my man. Harper's shifts are longer, the pay works out the same.
     
    HENRY ROUS. [A dark edition of his brother George.] Will ye support us in double pay overtime Saturdays?
     
    HARNESS. Yes, we will.
     
    JAGO. What have ye done with our subscriptions?
     
    HARNESS. [Coldly.] I have told you what we will do with them.
     
    EVANS. Ah! will, it's always will! Ye'd have our mates desert us. [Hubbub.]
     
    BULGIN. [Shouting.] Hold your row!
     
    [EVANS looks round angrily.]
     
    HARNESS. [Lifting his voice.] Those who know their right hands from their lefts know that the Unions are neither thieves nor traitors. I've said my say. Figure it out, my lads; when you want me you know where I shall be.
     
    [He jumps down, the crowd gives way, he passes through them, and goes away. A BARGEMAN looks after him jerking his pipe with a derisive gesture. The men close up in groups, and many looks are cast at ROBERTS, who stands alone against the wall.]
     
    EVANS. He wants ye to turn blacklegs, that's what he wants. He wants ye to go back on us. Sooner than turn blackleg—I'd starve, I would.
     
    BULGIN. Who's talkin' o' blacklegs—mind what you're saying, will you?
     
    BLACKSMITH. [A youth with yellow hair and huge arms.] What about the women?
     
    EVANS. They can stand what we can stand, I suppose, can't they?
     
    BLACKSMITH. Ye've no wife?
     
    EVANS. An' don't want one!
     
    THOMAS. [Raising his voice.] Aye! Give us the power to come to terms with London, lads.
     
    DAVIES.