Act I.
A Village Inn. Evening. Michiel asleep in a chair.
Maria (the maid—behind the scenes). Michiel, where are you? [Entering.] He is lazy enough for a member of the Brussels Committee. Michiel, get up!
Michiel (awaking). Well, what’s up now?
Maria. Wake up, at any rate! Isn’t it perfectly scandalous to lie there, at seven o’clock in the evening, snoring like an ox?
Michiel. Does that hurt any one?
Maria. Is there no work to do then?
Michiel. That won’t amount to much. Travellers won’t give us any trouble, it’s not worth their while to cross the frontier just now; and the farmers have their money under lock and key, and not a cent about them to take a dram with.
Maria. Is there nothing else for you to do? Couldn’t you take your rifle, in your spare time, and drill a little? Everybody is drilling just now; there isn’t a child but can load at twelve different rates. And you, of all others, ought to be ready to give an account of yourself when the rebels come to pay us a visit. People on the frontier, if no others, ought to be always in readiness.
(Sings) “Only with vigilance, powder, and ball,