Klásek (Who has not been listening, but looking about him, listening for strange sounds, frightened).—Good Lord! Do you hear that?

Zajícek.—What?

Klásek.—As if someone were calling and so strangely—

Sejtko (Solemnly).—Perhaps the Roarer—

Klásek.—Be quiet—do you want to call him out so he may jump on our backs or chase us around the woods?

Sejtko (Haughtily).—Well, I should be very glad to see what he looks like just once.

Klásek.—You would do nothing but make the sign of the cross.

Sejtko.—I shouldn’t be afraid.

Zima.—I’m not certain of that if you saw what I used to see.

Klásek (Gasping).—You, Zima?

Zima.—That was many years ago. I happened to pass through the royal forest from Vrchoviny one evening. Wood cutters were sitting around a fire, I sat down beside them. We were talking, when suddenly the Roarer appeared before us—

Klásek (Who has been listening breathlessly, sighs).—My, O my!

Zima.—Just as if he sprang up out of the ground; the spirit of the woods, the Roarer, bearded, hairy, covered with moss, ferns on his head, eyes as if buried in a thicket—

Klásek.—My, you must have been frightened.

Sejtko.—I shouldn’t have been afraid.

Zajíček.—And did he say anything?

Zima.—Indeed he did, in such a voice, he said: “Thrice I recall this meadow and thrice the forest on this spot,” where we sat, you know—“Thrice the forest.” But, says he, “I have never before seen such rubbish here—”

Klásek (Chuckling softly). That meant you.

Sejtko (Interrupting). And that bearded Roarer said: (imitating his voice). “Only that second clarinet from the band of Lohovice is missing, the one who is so afraid of his wife, Klásek.”

Klásek (Jumping up).—O, you—

Zajíček (To Zima).—Is that all?