THE FIRST ACT
A level, fertile landscape. It is a clear, warm, sunny morning in May. Diagonally from the middle to the foreground extends a path. The fields on either side are raised slightly above it. In the immediate foreground a small potato patch on which the green shoots are already visible. A shallow ditch, covered with field flowers, separates the path from the fields. To the left of the path on a slope about six feet in height an old cherry tree, to the right hazelnut and whitethorn bushes. Nearly parallel with this path, but at some distance in the background, the course of a brook is marked by willows and alder trees. Solitary groves of ancient trees add a park-like appearance to the landscape. In the background, left, from among bushes and tree-tops arise the gables and the church steeple of the village. A crucifix stands by the wayside in the foreground, right. It is Sunday.
ROSE BERND, a beautiful, vigorous peasant girl of twenty-two emerges, excited and blushing, from the bushes at the left and sits down on the slope, after having peered shyly and eagerly in all directions. Her skirt is caught up, her feet are bare, as are her arms and neck. She is busily braiding one of her long, blonde tresses. Shortly after her appearance a man comes stealthily from the bushes on the other side. It is the landowner and magistrate, CHRISTOPHER FLAMM. He, too, gives the impression of being embarrassed but at the same time amused. His personality is not undignified; his dress betrays something of the sportsman, nothing of the dandy—laced boots, hunter's hose, a leather bottle slung by a strap across his shoulder. Altogether FLAMM is robust, unspoiled, vivid and broad-shouldered and creates a thoroughly pleasant impression. He sits down on the slope at a carefully considered distance from ROSE. They look at each other silently and then break out into inextinguishable laughter.