Page:Poet Lore, volume 36, 1925.pdf/383

 Courtier.—Your Grace, are you really? Are you hiding just to suit such a rascal?

Princess (On the bridge).—Is that anything unusual? (Disappears behind the trees.)

Magistrate.—If you please, what does that mean, that—?

Courtier (Impatiently).—Wild ideas, a woman’s whims. Begin talking to the miller about the linden tree, that My Lady Princess (sneering) may find out what that “strength” is like.

Princess (Returns to the bridge).—It occurred to me that the lin—(Looks toward the left.) Ah, but he is coming. How well built he is!

Courtier.—And sunburnt!

Princess.—But he is swarthy, has a ruddy complexion. It also occurred to me, my dear Count, that you too should hide.

Courtier (Trembling).—I, Your Grace, I? A man of my station and to please such a—

Princess.—Quick, quick, Count. I desire the magistrate to be the first to begin, then you, that I may hear all the tones of the miller’s rough melody. Now then, quickly! quickly! (Steps behind the trees.)

Courtier (Irritated).—Fine sport for her! (Disappears after the . The sun has set.)

Miller.—Ah, the magistrate. Good evening. (Is about to leave.)

Magistrate.—Just a moment. I am here in the name of Her Grace.

Miller.—What do you wish?

Magistrate.—Partly that linden tree, and partly—

Miller.—Hanička. Good night. (Leaving.)

Courtier (Suddenly stepping on the bench).—Halt!

halts.

Courtier (Comes forward).—I am the minister of Her Grace.

Miller.—What are you pleased to desire?

Courtier.—I do not desire, but command—and in the first place that you forfeit your claim to the old linden tree.

Miller.—That I refuse to do, even if the Princess herself should demand it.