Tramp. How can any one dare to kill like that!
Parasite. That ’s just what I say. Do you think he needs it? Do you think he ’s hungry like me? Not a bit of it. He kills to add to his larder, what ’s three quarters full already. He collects things he does, hangs ’em up to dry, smokes ’em, pickles ’em. It ’s a scandal, that ’s what it is, a scandal. One ’s got a store while another ’s starving. Why should he have a dagger, and me only my bare fists to fight with, and all over chilblains too—aren’t I right?
Tramp. I should say so.
Parasite. There ’s no equality, that ’s what I say. One law for the rich—another for the poor! And if I was to kill anything, I couldn’t eat it—not satisfactorily, I can’t chew properly, my jaw ’s too weak. Is that right?
Tramp. I don’t ’old with killin’, no’ow.
Parasite. My very words, Comrade, or at least, hoarding shouldn’t be allowed. Eat your fill and ’ave done with it. Down with larders! Storing things is robbin’ those who haven’t nowhere to store. Eat your fill and have done with it and then there’d be enough for all, wouldn’t there?
Tramp. I dunno
Parasite. Well, I’m tellin’ yer, aren’t I? Down with
Ichneumon Fly. (Re-entering) Eat it up, baby, eat it up. Choose what you like. Have you got a nice daddy? Eh?
Parasite. Good afternoon, my lord.
Ichneumon Fly. How d’ye do? Edible? (Sniffing.)
Parasite. Oh no, you’re joking, guv’nor, why me?
