Hanička.—He knows nothing. He has not seen me. Why, would he be displeased at the sight of it? O, that’s why it stood hidden in the herbs and buried in the flowers!

Grandmother.—Take care that he does not catch sight of it. You should not have brought it down.

Hanička.—Why? What would that lantern—?

Grandmother.—Merely a piece of glass and wood, and yet it is a heavy burden on our old mill. In the village and everywhere, and throughout the domain, they sigh in servitude, and a terrible nightmare—serfdom—smothers every one. Only our mill was and has been free since any one can remember. But during the time of Libor’s grandfather, no one knows how, but certainly through injustice, the nobility eventually did rob him of this freedom. Grandfather and my deceased husband, too, defended themselves in vain to rid themselves of this burden.

Hanička.—What burden?

Grandmother.—They assigned this duty to us: if the nobility of this estate finds it a pleasure or takes a notion to pass here, from the mill to the old forest beyond the water, to the little castle near the lake, be it during a hunt or any other time, be it at high noon or at midnight itself, every time we from the mill must light the way for them.

Hanička.—Who?—And with this lantern?

Grandmother.—With this lantern, and the landlord himself must do it. He must carry it ahead of the nobles, though he is a squire on his own land, and must even walk with the serfs from the village. He must light the way for the nobles as far as the living boundary line, the old linden tree in the meadow by the forest, there where at one time a church stood, years ago.

Hanička (Gazes at the lantern).—O, the ugly lantern—(Suddenly.) And Grandmother, it is said that under the old linden there is a treasure.

Grandmother.—A costly treasure, a precious crown. (Becomes sorrowful.) Probably because of it the lords have coveted the old linden, too. They took grandfather’s freedom away from him and want to seize the grandson’s property and rights—

Hanička (With confidence).—They won’t get the best of Libor.

Klásek (Carries a clarinet under his arm).—Good day! (He stops and looks around.)