He has an air of
fierce distraction. Sullen murmurs of disapproval from the
crowd.]

ROUS. [Speaking with great excitement.] I'm no blanky orator,
mates, but wot I say is drove from me. What I say is yuman nature.
Can a man set an' see 'is mother starve? Can 'e now?

ROBERTS. [Starting forward.] Rous!

ROUS. [Staring at him fiercely.] Sim 'Arness said fair! I've
changed my mind!

ROBERTS. Ah! Turned your coat you mean!

[The crowd manifests a great surprise.]

LEWIS. [Apostrophising Rous.] Hallo! What's turned him round?

ROUS. [Speaking with intense excitement.] 'E said fair. "Stand by
us," 'e said, "and we'll stand by you." That's where we've been
makin' our mistake this long time past; and who's to blame fort? [He
points at ROBERTS] That man there! "No," 'e said, "fight the
robbers," 'e said, "squeeze the breath out o' them!" But it's not the
breath out o' them that's being squeezed; it's the breath out of us
and ours, and that's the book of truth. I'm no orator, mates, it's
the flesh and blood in me that's speakin', it's the heart o' me.
[With a menacing, yet half-ashamed movement towards ROBERTS.] He'll
speak to you again, mark my words, but don't ye listen. [The crowd
groans.] It's hell fire that's on that man's tongue. [ROBERTS is
seen laughing.] Sim 'Arness is right. What are we without the
Union--handful o' parched leaves--a puff o' smoke. I'm no orator,
but I say: Chuck it up! Chuck it up! Sooner than go on starving the
women and the children.

[The murmurs of acquiescence almost drown the murmurs of
dissent.]

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
gradua