Page:Poet Lore, volume 26, 1915.djvu/304

 Kyral.—Well, if he told you, then it must be the holy truth. But, I say, Judge Matouš, who is it makes our feudal service harder and harder? Everywhere else they are remitting and easing up on vassal labor but the director is constantly adding to our burdens.

Matouš.—I say, those are queer speeches. The nobility is of God himself and feudal service is the right of the nobility, and the director is as if of the nobility. The director told me himself that he would not favor any easing up. And when it won’t do, why even the director himself can’t break the rule.

Kyral.—It won’t do—that’s an understood thing—unless the devil takes the whole system of feudalism along with the director and his beadles.

Matouš.—My good man, I say, that’s enough. You’d do better if you’d fear God more and would dig less into those old books in which you bury yourself like a worm. They will mix you up in the head. I am the judge—today we are the guests of the gracious nobility—and so I say and repeat—enough of these foolish remarks.

Řehák.—At any rate let’s not bruise our brains thinking about such things today. (Gradually people come in from various sides. steps up to the front towards the farmers.)

Dvořák.—And let’s rather be like God’s trees along the highway. They grow, grow excellently, let themselves be plucked of fruit and perhaps allow themselves to be felled and burned—and still they never utter a sound. Good, good, my fine neighbors. The Lord give you greeting and the director give you greater burdens.

Matouš.—I say, what and who is this fellow? I say, where are you from?

Dvořák.—Well, well, no harm intended. (Bitterly) I just let fly a foolish jest. I am a countryman of yours from Krčín.

Matouš.—From Krčín? I know Krčín as well as my own village—but I’ve never seen you there. And that costume of yours.