Edeling. Forgive me for suspecting you; but so many of your class, especially on the frontier, have turned out traitors, that suspicion has become a disagreeable duty. What is the general feeling in this village?
Nicolaas. Not what it ought to be. I fear that, if the rebels were to arrive, there are those, here and there, who would join them. It seems as though people were struck with blindness; they want change at any price. They have let themselves be persuaded that they will have no taxes to pay under the Brabant Government. That’s the worst of the people here; they are stupid, they don’t reason.
Edeling. They don’t know any better, I suppose. Do you think your friends will be here soon?
Nicolaas. Presently, I hope. Your honour seems to be in a hurry. Is it far to headquarters?
Edeling. A couple of hours. We are to march again at daybreak to-morrow. I am sorry we are not going farther, for I fear we shall not meet any of the enemy. I would willingly have paid them a visit.
Nicolaas. You are very eager for fighting.
Edeling. Particularly so; for, besides my wish to do my duty by my king and country, I have a private account to settle with the gentlemen from the south. They are keeping my bride a prisoner.
Nicolaas. Your bride! I thought women, at least, would have been respected.
Edeling. Her father is a well-known soldier; when the first disturbances broke out in the place where he was in command, he gave orders to fire on the rebels. They never forgave him, and when he had the misfortune to fall into their hands they kept him in prison—his daughter refusing to leave him.
Enter Maria.