]
EVANS. What's turned you to blacklegging?
ROUS. [With a furious look.] Sim 'Arness knows what he's talking
about. Give us power to come to terms with London; I'm no orator,
but I say--have done wi' this black misery!
[He gives his muter a twist, jerks his head back, and jumps off
the platform. The crowd applauds and surges forward. Amid
cries of "That's enough!" "Up Union!" "Up Harness!" ROBERTS
quietly ascends the platform. There is a moment of silence.]
BLACKSMITH. We don't want to hear you. Shut it!
HENRY Rous. Get down!
[Amid such cries they surge towards the platform.]
EVANS. [Fiercely.] Let 'im speak! Roberts! Roberts!
BULGIN. [Muttering.] He'd better look out that I don't crack his
skull.
[ROBERTS faces the crowd, probing them with his eyes till they
gradually become silent. He begins speaking. One of the
bargemen rises and stands.]
ROBERTS. You don't want to hear me, then? You'll listen to Rous and
to that old man, but not to me. You'll listen to Sim Harness of the
Union that's treated you so fair; maybe you'll listen to those men
from London? Ah! You groan! What for? You love their feet on your
necks, don't you? [Then as BULGIN elbows his way towards the
platform, with calm bathos.
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