Michiel. Why, you see, the Orange flag is still on the church tower?
Maria. Yes; and if you dare to touch it, I’ll scratch your eyes out!
Michiel. My idea was to paint it with the Brabant colours on the side towards Brabant. If the Dutch come from the north—very good! they see the Orange flag. If the Brabanters come from the south—very good too! they’ll see their own colours.
Maria. Well, that’s a nice invention!
Michiel. Isn’t it? I think they ought to give me a prize out of the village treasury; for in this way I am saving every one from embarrassment.
Maria. But you’ve forgotten one thing!
Michiel. Forgotten! What’s that?
Maria. When the wind changes, the Brabanters will see Orange, and the Dutch the Brabant colours; and then, perhaps, both of them will bombard the village, and you in it—which would not be the worst loss of all.
Michiel. That’s true; I never thought of that. But, after all, is there no contrivance to prevent that? With a rope, for instance?
Maria. You’re a nice politician! It doesn’t do to forget that the wind may change. So leave politics alone for the future, or I’ll tell the master what sort of fellow you are.