statue yonder, but the men pocket the coins and stay away. This
morning only three were there.

SHOEMAKER. [To his guests.] Think, they know all that goes on, the
villains!

OLD WOMAN. Give the blind old woman a coin!

RELATIVE. One must pay, to boot, for her croaking?

ONE OF THE PEOPLE. She sings better than the shoemaker sang this
morning, when we stood round the corner listening to him. He
certainly does not sing ideally about carnations and roses, but a
true word spoken at the right moment is also ideal!

RELATIVE. If you don't go, old hag, you'll be locked up!

[Thunder and lightning, wind, rain, commotion.]

SHOEMAKER. Egad! it's raining again. Step inside, gentlemen. [They
break up.]

OLD WOMAN. Must that poor wretch in the pillory stand out in the
rain?

RELATIVE. If my kinsman, who is so great a personage, can stand
outside, then that fellow may as well stay where he is.

SHOEMAKER. It cools these reformers off so nicely to get a little
cold water over them. [Trips, stubs toe against a stone.] The