Page:Poet Lore, volume 26, 1915.djvu/309

 die—or a lot of noble herdsmen? Uncle, uncle, will there be a funeral?

Králíček.—Oh, Martin! A funeral! Funeral! Just hear, Martin thinks there’s to be a funeral here today—and we’re going to have the harvest festival.

Martin.—Harvest festival? Harvest festival? I say, uncle, I’d guess it to be a funeral.

Králíček.—Hard to talk with a madman! I repeat, Martin,—harvest festival.

Dvořák.—Who is that man?

Kyral.—That’s crack-brained Martin. He used to be the village herdsman. Once his sheep ran into the overlord’s land. The nobleman’s herders laid him across the merestone and beat him so that they left him more dead than alive.

Dvořák.—The infernal scoundrels!

Kyral.—Finally he got up—gradually recovered from most of his wounds, except one on his head which deprived him of his reason. He walks as in springs and leaps, is confused in his speech but otherwise he’s a good sort of madman. Sometimes he is content to sit in the fields or forests two or three days—until hunger again drives him back among human beings.

Dvořák.—And all caused by those vicious good-for-nothings! Oh, people, people, why don’t you rise up and let those tyrants feel at least a share of what you must suffer!

The People (Behind the scenes near the castle).—The nobility! Our gracious nobility! Long live our gracious nobles!

Enter, with, accompanied by two other ladies and  and  and four servants, several foresters.  ''and the rest depart with the people behind the scenes. Most of the people are poorly dressed. Later arrives.'')

Matouš.—Long live the Earl!

Shouting of People.—Vivát the Earl!

Matouš.—Vivát the gracious nobility!

Shouting.—Vivát the gracious nobility!

Matouš—Vivát also the high-born director!