The home of SIMON LIMAL, the weaver — a sombre, wretched-looking dwelling. At the back is a window-opening, giving a view of a narrow alley leading to the market-place; and on the left of the window is the street-door. On the right of the room there is a flight of steep steps leading to the entrance to a loft; and below the steps stands the weaver's loom. On the left of the room is the hearth; below the hearth is a poor shrine containing an image of the Virgin; and, below that, a door admitting to a bed- chamber. In the centre stands a table and chair, and on each side of the hearth is a stool.

There is sunshine without, and a narrow shaft of light streams through a little window which is seen in the roof of the loft.

SIMON LIMAL is at the loom, JOAN is making a fire with sticks. They are a feeble, prematurely-aged pair — ragged, poverty- stricken, bent with toil.