Magistrate.—They have permission to have a banquet.

Courtier.—That is too much all at once. Perhaps beer would be sufficient.

Magistrate (Timidly).—So please you, sir, yes, certainly. I’ll go immediately. (Leaves.)

Franc follows him.

Courtier.—Daphnis—Daphnis—And that miller—(Rap & in thought, paces toward the window. Suddenly stops, smiles.) And what of the revolution? (Stands by the window.)

The uproar and noise without grow less and less until they cease entirely. Then a voice is heard saying:

Magistrate.—Her Grace was kind enough to grant you two barrels of beer to refresh and strengthen you.

In reply are heard shouts: “Vivat, Vivat!”

Trumpet.

Courtier (Looks out of the window, bobbing his head with a smile). We know them well.

On the right in the foreground, the front of an old log mill. A bench near a door to the left. Close by, at one side in the foreground, a mill stone over grown with grass. Trees behind the mill, through which a sluice makes its way down from the left. On the right sides of the sluice is a free space; except on the left, are a bridge, a clump of alders and bushes. On the right of the bridge, a rough tree stump. Behind the sluice, a meadow; behind the meadow in the rear, a forest. It is late in the afternoon.

Míchal appears from out of the shrubbery near the bridge, looks toward the mill, then drapes on the bushes various colored ribbons, which hang around his neck and extend across his chest in great quantities. He does not notice that Ivan has appeared in the rear behind the sluice gate.