But now more and more come streaming into the courtyard demanding wine. Although we had already given away and sold a lot, we still have a good supply, since the sixties were without exception good wine years.
Two of us stand together in the cellar and fill their bottles. But now hundreds stream into the courtyard, screaming louder and louder, “Wine! Wine!”
They push up against the cellar door leading to the courtyard and yell, “Open up, or we’ll break the door down!”
We want to open the door but can’t, as there are so many pushing against it. Suddenly the rusty lock snaps. The doors are opened and the whole swarm comes in. We are glad that we can still retreat out the back door. Our cavalrymen can do nothing in the face of the mob. They rescue just one small barrel through the back door as the swarm tumbles in through the front door.
In the cellar they are practically squeezing one another to death. Each wants to be first. They push each other and knock each other about. People can’t hear themselves speak. Since the milk is also in the cellar it, too, gets taken away. All the milk pots are carried out to the courtyard, filled with either milk or wine. The brandy goes out as well.
Many push into the kitchen and take all the pots and kitchen supplies in order to fill them with wine. There’s nothing for it but to let them have their way. They argue among themselves over every drop of wine. Some who want to leave the cellar with a little barrel are pushed back again by the swarm and are often robbed of their booty.