Page:Poet Lore, volume 31, 1920.djvu/19

Rh Rozmberk.—The Třebonský procession is beginning—if it suits the pleasure of the gentlemen and ladies, let us go out on the balcony.

Kinský.—The procession?

Rozmberk.—Yes. The town has given itself over to our amusement, and all the surrounding country has contributed its share in order that this pastime would appear to good advantage. I am doubly glad that you arrived in time to enjoy it.

Kinský (To ).—May I, lovely lady, offer you my arm? ( accepts his hand.)

Rozmberk.—I shall have the pleasure of escorting the gracious lady myself. (Extending his hand to . All walk away with . From the balcony they gaze down upon the procession below, and talk together.)

Ctibor (Shortly).—She has hung herself upon his arm—I can do nothing but stand aside and look on.

Bilent.—Not so fast, young man! This would be a strange comedy production should you want to have as a rival the old master, your own guardian!

(A stir under the balcony, fanfares and shouting at intervals "Long live the master! Viva Mr. Rozmberk!")

Ctibor.—I would have no fear even of him did I think that my hope might be confirmed.

Bilent.—Just tame your tongue a little, noble attendant, lest the pent up fire in you should blaze up. Just look over there at those two, Hannewaldt and Kinsky,—it seems to me that one is of steel and the other is flint.

Ctibor.—And yet they talk together as though they were the most sincere friends!

Bilent.—It would not surprise me at all were I to learn that Kinský has come after the king’s secretary. But it is my opinion that Hannewaldt has not yet mentioned to the master what his real object is in coming.

Ctibor.—I hope that he will be successful.

Bilent.—Because you think that you then might get into his favor and that of his lovely niece?

(Under the balcony music is heard)