the cup to any layman. Your true Moravian values nothingbeyond the cup; it is his costly jewel, and has cost the
Bohemians their precious blood in many and many a battle.
Neumann. And what says that chart that hangs in the air 55
there, over it all?
Master of the Cellar. That signifies the Bohemian letter
royal, which we forced from the Emperor Rudolph — a
precious, never to be enough valued parchment that secures
to the new Church the old privileges of free ringing and 60
open psalmody. But since he of Steiermärk has ruled over
us, that is at an end; and after the battle of Prague, in
which Count Palatine Frederick lost crown and empire, our
faith hangs upon the pulpit and the altar — and our brethren
look at their homes over their shoulders; but the letter 65
royal the Emperor himself cut to pieces with his scissors.
Neumann. Why, my good Master of the Cellar! you are
deep read in the chronicles of your country!
Master of the Cellar. So were my forefathers, and for that
reason were they minstrels, and served under Procopius and 70
Ziska. Peace be with their ashes! Well, well! they fought
for a good cause though — There! carry it up!
Neumann. Stay! let me but look at this second quarter.
Look there! That is, when at Prague Castle the Imperial
Counsellors, Martinitz and Stawata were hurled down head 75
over heels. ‘Tis even so! there stands Count Thur who
commands it.
[Runner takes the service-cup and goes off with it.
Master of the Cellar. O let me never more hear of that day.
It was the three and twentieth of May, in the year of our
Lord one thousand, six hundred, and eighteen. It seems to me 80
as it were but yesterday — from that unlucky day it all began,
all the heart-aches of the country. Since that day it is now
sixteen years, and there has never once been peace on the earth.
[Health drunk aloud at the second table.
The Prince of Weimar! Hurra!
[At the third and fourth table.
Long live Prince William! Long live Duke Bernard! 85
Hurra! [Music strikes up.
First Servant. Hear ‘em! Hear ‘em! What an uproar!
Second Servant (comes in running). Did you hear? They have
drunk the Prince of Weimar’s health.
Third Servant. The Swedish Chief Commander! 90
First Servant (speaking at the same time). The Lutheran!
Second Servant. Just before, when Count Deodate gave out
the Emperor’s health, they were all as mum as a nibbling
mouse.
Master of the Cellar. Po, po! When the wine goes in, 95
strange things come out. A good servant hears, and hears
not! — You should be nothing but eyes and feet, except when
you are called.
Second Servant (to the Runner, to whom he gives secretly a flask
of wine, keeping his eye on the Master of the Cellar, standing
between him and the Runner). Quick, Thomas! before the
Master of the Cellar runs this way—’tis a flask of 100
Frontignac! — Snapped it up at the third table. — Canst go off
with it?
Runner (hides it in his pocket). All right!
[Exit the Second Servant.
Third Servant (aside to the First). Be on the hark, Jack! that
we may have right plenty to tell to father Quivoga — He will 105
give us right plenty of absolution in return for it.
First Servant. For that very purpose I am always having
something to do behind Illo’s chair. — He is the man for speeches
to make you stare with!
Master of the Cellar (to Neumann). Who, pray, may that 110
swarthy man be, he with the cross, that is chatting so
confidentially with Esterhats?
Neumann. Ay! he too is one of those to whom they confide
too much. He calls himself Maradas, a Spaniard is he.
Master of the Cellar (impatiently). Spaniard! Spaniard! — I 115
tell you, friend; nothing good comes of those Spaniards. All
these outlandish fellows are little better than rogues.
Neumann. Fy, fy! you should not say so, friend. There are
among them our very best generals, and those on whom the
Duke at this moment relies the most. 120
Master of the Cellar (taking the flask out of the Runner’s
pocket).
My son, it will be broken to pieces in your pocket.
[TERTSKY hurries in, fetches away the paper, and calls
to a Servant for pen and ink, and goes to the
back of the stage.
Master of the Cellar (to the Servants). The Lieutenant-General
stands up. — Be on the
