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304 Leonid Andreyev
Day and night in my ears the screeching of the saw cut
ting steel. All the dreams that I see, all the sounds and
songs that I hear, is the screeching of the saw cutting
steel. What is the earth? It is the screeching of the
saw. What is the sky? It is the screeching of the saw
cutting steel. Day and night.
Day and night.
We are crushed by the machines.
We ourselves are parts of the machines.
Brothers! We forge our own chains!
The crushed call upon King-Hunger to help
them, to save them from the horror of their life.
Is he not the most powerful king on earth?
King-Hunger comes and exhorts them to rebel.
All follow his call except three. One of these is
huge of body, of Herculean built, large of muscle
but with small, flat head upon his massive
shoulders. The second workingman is young,
but with the mark of death already upon his brow.
He is constantly coughing and the hectic flush on
his cheeks betrays the wasting disease of his class.
The third workingman is a worn-out old man.
Everything about him, even his voice, is deathlike,
colorless, as if in his person a thousand lives had
been robbed of their bloom.
First Workingman. I am as eld as the earth. I have
performed all the twelve labors, cleansed stables, cut off
the hydra s heads, dug and vexed the earth, built cities,
and have so altered its face, that the Creator himself
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