Výrava (Horrified).—Captain! Court!
Charvát.—What do you wish?
Výrava.—I will accept every punishment—even the greatest fine—I am ready to lose all my possessions, I am ready even to lay my head on the block—but from a flogging—spare me, spare me!
Charvát.—Oho! so the farmer who ought to hang is in fear now of a whipping? The court has expressed itself and its decisions shall abide!
Výrava.—For the mercy of God, spare me that punishment, that shame. I will suffer anything only forbear to put on me such humiliation—on me, Výrava!
Charvát.—I have spoken and from my word there is no appeal.
Výrava.—In my life I shall never again humble myself before anyone—but from horror of the shame which is to overtake me, I kneel before you. Command your soldiers to shoot me as a penalty for my deed. I will go to my death, yes, I’ll be grateful to you for it as for a gracious deed. But do not have me flogged!
Earl (Having taken Charvát to the front says to him privately while all the others animatedly but in low voices talk to each other).—If you can, forgive him. I wonder if you know how deeply the people of this district feel about their honor? Two hundred years ago they obtained from the nobility the concession, when convicted, of suffering any other punishment—fine, imprisonment, even death—but not beating. Those who are here may not all know of the concession but the sense of their honor has remained unextinguished and it is as intense as in the noblemen themselves. You should remit the punishment by flogging because of the exceptional nature of these people.
Charvát (In a low voice).—I can’t act contrary to my orders. Let them thank God that the government ordered the imposition of the smallest punishment not desiring by cruelty to provoke further peasant uprisings. I am sorry, Earl, that I can’t accommodate you.
Voices (Of the people who have been observing the quiet conversation of the Earl with Charvát, in hushed tones).—He will grant him mercy, the Earl has spoken in his behalf.
Charvát (To Výrava in a loud voice).—Your pleadings are in vain. Bring the sticks here! Soldiers, form two files and leave a lane between, for the prisoner to march through.
