MASTER OLOF

A DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS

By August Strindberg

INTRODUCTION

The original prose version of Master Olof, which is here presented forthe first time in English form, was written between June 8 and August8, 1872, while Strindberg, then only twenty-three years old, was livingwith two friends on one of the numerous little islands that lie betweenStockholm and the open sea. 

Up to that time he had produced half-a-dozen plays, one of which hadbeen performed at the Royal Theatre of Stockholm and had won him thegood-will and financial support of King Carl XV. Thus he had been ableto return to the University of Upsala, whence he had been driven a yearearlier by poverty as well as by spiritual revolt. During his secondterm of study at the old university Strindberg wrote some plays thathe subsequently destroyed. In the same period he not only conceived theidea later developed in Master Olof, but he also acquired the historicaldata underlying the play and actually began to put it into dialogue. 

During that same winter of 1871-72 he read extensively, although hisreading probably had slight reference to the university curriculum. Thetwo works that seem to have taken the lion's share of his attention wereGoethe's youthful drama Goetz von Berlichingen and Buckle's History ofCivilization in England. Both impressed him deeply, and both became inhis mind logically connected with an external event which, perhaps, hadtouched his supersensitive soul more keenly than anything else: an eventconcerning which he says in the third volume of The Bondwoman's Son, that "he had just discovered that the men of the Paris Commune merelyput into action what Buckle preached. "

Such were the main influences at work on his mind when, early in1872, his royal protector died, and Strindberg found himself once moredependent on his own resources. To continue at the university was outof the question, and he seems to have taken his final departure from itwithout the least feeling of regret. Unwise as he may have been in otherrespects, he was wise enough to realize that, whatever his goal, theroad to it must be of his own making. Returning to Stockholm, he gropedaround for a while as he had done a year earlier, what he even tried toeke out a living as the editor of a trade journal. Yet the seeds sownwithin him during the previous winter were sprouting. An irresistibleimpulse urged him to continue the work of Buckle. History and philosophywere the ultimate ends tempting his mind, but first of all he wasimpelled to express himself in terms of concrete life, and the way hadbeen shown him by Goethe. Moved by Goethe's example, he felt himselfobliged to break through the stifling forms of classical drama. "No verse, no eloquence, no unity of place, " was the resolution heformulated straightway. [Note: See again The Bondwoman's Son, vol. Iii:In the Red Room. ]

Having armed himself with a liberal supply of writing-paper, he joinedhis two friends in the little island of Kymmendö. Of money he had solittle that, but for the generosity of one of his friends, he would havehad to leave the island in the autumn without settling the small debthe owed for board and lodging. Yet those months were happy indeed--aboveall because he felt himself moved by an inspiration more authentic thanhe had ever before experienced. Thus page was added to page, and act toact, until at last, in the surprisingly brief time of two months, thewhole play was ready--mighty in bulk and spirit, as became the truefirstling of a young Titan. 

Strindberg had first meant to name his play "What Is Truth?" For a whilehe did call it "The Renegade, " but in the end he thought both titlessmacked too much of tendency and decided instead, with reasonedconventionalism, to use the title of Master Olof after its centralfigure, the Luther of Sweden. 

From a dramatic point of view it would have been hard to pick a morepromising period than the one he had chosen as a setting for his play. The early reign of Gustaf Vasa, the founder of modern Sweden, was markedby three parallel conflicts of equal intensity and interest: betweenSwedish and Danish nationalism; between Catholicism and Protestantism;and, finally, between feudalism and a monarchism based more or less onthe consent of the governed. Its background was the long struggle forindependent national existence in which the country had become involvedby its voluntary federation with Denmark and Norway about the end of thefourteenth century. That Struggle--made necessary by the insistence ofone sovereign after another on regarding Sweden as a Danish provincerather than as an autonomous part of a united Scandinavia--had reached asort of climax, a final moment of utter blackness just before the dawn, when, at Stockholm in 1520, the Danish king, known ever afterward asChristian the Tyrant, commanded the arbitrary execution of about eightyof Sweden's most representative men. 

Until within a few months of that event, named by the horror-strickenpeople "the blood-bath of Stockholm, " the young Gustaf Eriksson Vasa hadbeen a prisoner in Denmark, sent there as a hostage of Swedish loyalty. Having obtained his freedom by flight, he made his way to the inlandprovince of Dalecarlia, where most of the previous movements on behalfof national liberty had originated, and having cleared the country offoreign invaders, chiefly by the help of an aroused peasantry that hadnever known the yoke of serfdom, he was elected king at a Riksdag heldin the little city of Strängnäs, not far from Stockholm, in 1523. 

Strängnäs was a cathedral city and had for several years previous beennotorious for the Lutheran leanings of its clergy. After the death ofits bishop as one of the victims of King; Christian, its temporary headhad been the archdeacon, the ambitious and learned Lars Andersson--orLaurentius Andreae, as, in accordance with the Latinizing tendencyof the time, he was more frequently named. One of its canons was OlofPedersson--also known as Olaus Petri, and more commonly as Master Olof(Master being the vernacular for Magister, which was the equivalentof our modern Doctor)--who, during two years spent in studies at theUniversity of Wittenberg, had been in personal contact with Luther, andwho had become fired with an aspiration to carry the Reformation intohis native country. By recent historians Master Olof has been describedas of a "naively humble nature, " rather melancholy in temperament, but endowed with a gift for irony, and capable of fiery outbursts whendeeply stirred. At Strängnäs he had been preaching the new faith moreopenly and more effectively than any one else, and he had found a pupilas well as a protector in the temporary head of the diocese. 

Immediately after his election, the new King called Lars Andersson fromSträngnäs to become his first chancellor. Later on, he pressed Olof, too, into his service, making him Secretary to the City Corporationof Stockholm--which meant that Olof practically became the chiefcivil administrator of the capital, having to act as both clerk andmagistrate, while at the same time he was continuing his reformatorypropaganda as one of the preachers in the city's principal edifice, officially named after St. Nicolaus, but commonly spoken of asGreatchurch. As if this were not sufficient for one man, he plunged alsointo a feverish literary activity, doing most of the work on the Swedishtranslations of the New and Old Testaments, and paving the way for thenew faith by a series of vigorous polemical writings, the style of whichproclaims him the founder of modern Swedish prose. Centuries passedbefore the effective simplicity and homely picturesqueness of his stylewere surpassed. He became, furthermore, Sweden's first dramatist. TheComedy of Tobit, from which Strindberg uses a few passages in slightlymodernized form at the beginning of his play, is now generallyrecognized as an authentic product of Olof's pen, although it was notwritten until a much later period. 

Strindberg's drama starts at Strängnäs, at the very moment when Olof hasbeen goaded into open revolt against the abuses of the Church, and whenhe is saved from the consequences of that revolt only by the unexpectedarrival of King Gustaf and his own appointment as City Secretary. Fromthe slightly strained, but not improbable, coincidence of that startto the striking climax of the last act, the play follows, on the whole, pretty closely the actual course of events recorded in history. Tounderstand this course, with its gradually intensified conflict betweenthe King and Olof, it is above all necessary to bear in mind that theformer regarded the Reformation principally as a means toward thatpolitical reorganization and material upbuilding of the country whichformed his main task; while to Olof the religious reconstruction assumedsupreme importance. This fundamental divergence of purpose is clearlyindicated and effectively used by Strindberg, and we have reason tobelieve that he has pictured not only Gustaf Vasa and Master Olof, butalso the other historical characters, in close accordance with whathistory has to tell us about them. Among the chief figures there is onlyone--Gert the Printer--who is not known to history, and one--the wife ofOlof--who is so little known that the playwright has been at liberty tocreate it almost wholly out of his own imagination. 

At the juncture represented by the initial scenes of the play, Olof wasin reality thirty-one years old, but he is made to appear still younger. The King should be, and is, about twenty-seven, while Lars Andersson isabout fifty-four, and Bishop Brask about seventy. Gert must be thought aman of about sixty, while Christine must be about twenty. The actionof the play lasts from 1524 to 1540, but Strindberg has contracted thegeneral perspective, so to speak, giving us the impression that theentire action takes place within a couple of years. I have tried to workout a complete chronology, and think it fairly safe to date the severalparts of the play as follows:

The first act takes place on Whitsun Eve, 1524, which means that theexact date must fall between May 10 and June 13 of that year, andprobably about June 1. 

The first scene of the second act occurs in the early evening of aSaturday in the summer--probably in June--of 1524. The second scene isfixed at midnight of the same day, and the third scene on the followingmorning, which, in view of the fact that Olof is to preach, we mayassume to be a Sunday. 

The first scene of the third act seems to take place four days later, but Olof was not married until February, 1525, --to "Christine, a maidenof good family, "--and it was only during the winter of 1526-27 that theChurch reformers were given free rein by the King, and Olof himself wasdespatched to the University of Upsala for the purpose of challengingPeder Galle, the noted Catholic theologian, to a joint discussion. Thiswas also the time when the first Swedish version of the New Testamentwas completed by Olof and Lars Andersson--an event referred to in thescene in question. 

The exact date of the second scene of the third act is St. John'sEve, or June 24, 1527, at which time occurred the important Riksdag atVesterås, where the King broke the final resistance of the nobility andthe Catholic clergy by threatening to abdicate. The debate between Olofand Peder Galle took place at the Riksdag, Galle having evaded it aslong as he could. 

The date of the fourth act is very uncertain, but it seems safe to placeit in the summer of 1539, when Stockholm was ravaged by an epidemic of avirulent disease known as "the English sweat. "

The first scene of the fifth act is laid on New Year's Eve, 1539, whenOlof and Lars Andersson were arrested and charged with high treason fornot having informed the proper authorities of a plot against the King'slife. This plot was an old story, having been exposed and punishedin 1536. Their defence was that they had learned of it through secretconfession, which they as ministers had no right to reveal. The trialtook only two days, and on January 2, 1540, both were sentenced todeath. 

The second scene of the final act must be laid in the spring of 1540, asthe ceremony of confirmation has generally taken place about Easter eversince the Swedish church became Lutheran. 

While, in the main, Strindberg made the events of his play accordwith what was accepted as historical fact when he wrote, there areanachronisms and inaccuracies to be noted, although to none of themcan be attached much importance. When, in the first and second acts, herepresents the Anabaptist leaders, Rink and Knipperdollink, as thenin Stockholm and actually introduces one of them on the stage, he hasmerely availed himself of a legend which had been accepted as truthfor centuries, and which has been exploded only by recent historicalresearch. We know now that Rink and Knipperdollink could never have beenin Sweden, but we know also that a German lay preacher named MelchiorHofman appeared at Stockholm about the time indicated in the play, andthat, in 1529, another such preacher, named Tilemann, made Olof himselfthe object of his fierce invectives. These instances serve, in fact, toprove how skilfully Strindberg handled his historical material. He isnever rigid as to fact, but as a rule he is accurate in spirit. Anotherinstance of this kind is found in the references in the first act to theuse of Swedish for purposes of worship. It is recorded--and by himself, I think--that Olof once asked his mother whether she really understoodthe Latin prayers, since she was so very fond of them. She answered:"No, I don't understand them, but when I hear them I pray devoutly toGod that they may please Him, which I don't doubt they do. "

On the other hand, what maybe regarded as rather an awkward slip isfound in the first scene of the fifth act, where Gert cries exultantlyto Olof: "You don't know that Thomas Münster has established a newspiritual kingdom at Mühlhausen. " The name of the great Anabaptist"prophet" was Thomas Münzer, and the place where he established hisbrief reign was Münster. Strindberg's habit was to fill his head withthe facts to be used, and then to rely on his memory. Marvellous as hismemory was, it sometimes deceived him, and checking off names or datesseems to have been utterly beyond him. Thus it is quite probable thatthe passage in question represents an unconscious error. At the sametime it is barely possible that the mistake may have been purposely laidin the mouth of a fanatic, from whom exactness of statement could hardlybe expected. Thus, in the first act, Gert remarks that "Luther isdead. " We understand, of course, that this expression is metaphorical, signifying that Luther has done all that can be expected of him, but itis nevertheless characteristically ambiguous. 

The second scene of the third act is apparently laid in Olof's houseat Stockholm, although the location of the building is not definitelyindicated. We find him waiting for a messenger who is to announce theresults of the Riksdag then in session. But the Riksdag was held atVesterås, and we know that Olof was one of two delegates sent by theburghers and the peasants to the King, whom they implored "on theirknees and with tears" to withdraw his abdication. The Courtier'sreference to Olof's debate with Galle renders it still more uncertainwhether we are in Stockholm or in Vesterås. The Courtier also informsOlof of his appointment as pastor of Greatchurch, the facts being thatOlof was not ordained until 1539 and received his appointment a yearafter the events described in the last act of the play. In the metricalversion, Strindberg makes his most radical departure from the historicalcourse of events by letting Luther's marriage precede and influencethat of Olof, although in reality Olof's anticipated that of Luther byseveral months. 

The complaints of the Man from Småland in the first scene of the secondact could scarcely have been warranted in 1524, when that act takesplace. The hold of the young King was far too precarious at thatearly date to permit any regulations of the kind referred to. Theestablishment of a maximum price on oxen does not seem to have occurreduntil 1532, and a prohibition against the shooting of deer by thepeasants was actually issued in 1538, both measures helping to provokethe widespread uprising that broke out in Småland in 1541. It was namedthe "Dacke feud" after its principal leader, the peasant-chieftainNils Dacke, to whom the Sexton refers in the second scene of the lastact--also a little prematurely. 

Whether these be conscious or unconscious anachronisms, they matter verylittle when the general accuracy of the play is considered. From themoment the Danes had been driven out of the country, one of the mostserious problems confronting the King was the financial chaos into whichthe country had fallen, and his efforts, first of all to raise enoughmeans for ordinary administrative purposes, and secondly to reorganizetrade and agriculture, brought him almost immediately into conflict withthe peasants, who, during the long struggle for national independence, had become accustomed to do pretty much as they pleased. The utterancesof the Man from Småland are typical of the sentiments that prevailedamong the peasants throughout the country, not least when he speaks ofthe King's intention to "take away their priests and friars, " forthe majority of the Swedish people were at that time still intenselyCatholic, and remained so to a large extent long after the Reformationofficially had placed Sweden among Protestant countries. 

Much more serious than any liberties taken with dates or facts, I deemcertain linguistic anachronisms, of which Strindberg not rarely becomesguilty. Thus, for instance, he makes the King ask Bishop Brask: "Whatkind of phenomenon is this?" The phrase is palpably out of place, andyet it has been used so deliberately that nothing was left for me todo but to translate it literally. The truth is that Strindberg was notstriving to reproduce the actual language of the Period--a language ofwhich we get a glimpse in the quotations from The Comedy of Tobit. Hereand there he used archaic expressions (which I have sometimes reproducedand sometimes disregarded, as the exigencies of the new medium happenedto require). At other times he did not hesitate to employ moderncolloquialisms (most of which have been "toned down"). He did not regardlocal color or historical atmosphere as a supreme desideratum. He wantedto express certain ideas, and he wanted to bring home the essentialhumanity of historical figures which, through the operations oflegendary history, had assumed a strange, unhuman aspect. The methodshe employed for these purposes have since been made familiar to theEnglish-speaking public by the historical plays of Bernard Shaw and theshort stories and novels of Anatole France. 

In his eagerness, however, to express what was burning for utterance inhis own breast, the second purpose was sometimes lost sight of; and atsuch times Strindberg hesitated as little to pass the bounds imposedby an historical period as to break through the much more importantlimitations of class and personal antecedents. Thus, for example, the remarks of Olof's mother are at one moment characterized by thesimplicity to be expected from the aged widow of a small city tradesmanin the early part of the sixteenth century, while in the next--underthe pressure of the author's passion for personal expression--theygrow improbably sophisticated. Yet each figure, when seen in properperspective, appears correctly drawn and strikingly consistent withthe part assigned to it in the play. In his very indifference to minoraccuracies, Strindberg sometimes approaches more closely to the largertruth than men more scrupulous in regard to details. How true he can bein his delineation of a given type is perhaps best shown by the figureof Gert. The world's literature holds few portrayals of the anarchistictemperament that can vie with it in psychological exactness, and it isas true to-day as it was in 1524 or in 1872. 

This verisimilitude on a universal rather than a specific plane assumesstill greater significance if we consider it in the light of whatStrindberg has told us about his purpose with the main characters of hisfirst great play. As I have already said, those characters were meantto be both mouthpieces of the author and revived historical figures, butthey were also meant--and primarily, I suspect--to be something else:embodiments of the contradictory phases of a single individual, namelythe author himself. 

"The author meant to hide his own self behind the historicalcharacters, " Strindberg tells us, apropos of this very play. [Note: Inone of his biographical novels, The Bondwoman's Son, vol. Iii: Inthe Red Room. ] "As an idealist he was to be represented by Olof; as arealist by Gustaf; and as a communist by Gert. " Farther on in the samework, he continues his revelation as follows: "The King and his shadow, the shrewd Constable, represented himself [the author] as he wished tobe; Gert, as he was in moments of aroused passion; and Olof, as, afteryears of self-scrutiny, he had come to know himself: ambitious andweak-willed; unscrupulous when something was at stake, and yieldingat other times; possessed of great self-confidence, mixed with a deepmelancholy; balanced and irrational; hard and gentle. "

Finally, he gives us this illuminating exposition of his own views onthe moral validity of the main characters, thus disposing once for allof the one-sided interpretations made by persons anxious to use thisor that aspect of the play in support of their own political or socialidiosyncrasies: "All the chief characters are, relatively speaking, inthe right. The Constable, from the standpoint of his own day, is rightin asking Olof to keep calm and go on preaching; Olof is right inadmitting that he had gone too far; the scholar, Vilhelm, is right when, in the name of youth, he demands the evolution of a new truth; and Gertis right in calling Olof a renegade. The individual must always becomea renegade--forced by the necessity of natural laws; by fatigue; byinability to develop indefinitely, as the brain ceases to grow about theage of forty-five; and by the claims of actual life, which demand thateven a reformer must live as man, mate, head of a family, andcitizen. But those who crave that the individual continue his progressindefinitely are the shortsighted--particularly those who think that thecause must perish because the individual deserts it. .. . It is an openquestion, for that matter, whether Olof did not have a better chance toadvance his cause from the pulpit of the reformed Greatchurch than hewould have had in low-class taverns. "

These passages were written by Strindberg fourteen years after thecompletion of the play to which they refer. We have other evidence, however, that, while he might have seen things more clearly inretrospect, he had not been lured by the lapse of time into placing hischaracters in a light different from that in which they were conceived. On the list of characters forming part of the original handwrittenmanuscript of the first version of Master Olof, now preserved in thePublic Library of Gothenburg, Sweden, the author has jotted down certainvery significant notes opposite the more important names. Thus he haswritten opposite the name of the King: "To accomplish something in thisworld, one has to risk morality and conscience;" opposite the nameof Olof: "He who strives to realize an idea develops greatness ofpersonality--he accomplishes good by his personal example, but he isdoomed to perish;" opposite that of Bishop Brask: "There is movement inwhatever exists--whatever stands still must be crushed;" and oppositethat of Gert: "He who wills more than his reason can grasp must go mad. "

Such was the play with which the young Strindberg returned to theSwedish capital in the fall of 1872; and let us remember in thisconnection, that up to the time in question no dramatic work of similarimportance had ever been produced in Sweden. Its completion was moreepoch-making for Sweden than that of Brand was for Norway in 1865--sincethe coming of Ibsen's first really great play was heralded by earlierworks leading up to it, while Master Olof appeared where nobody had anyreason to expect it. This very fact militated against its success, ofcourse; it was too unexpected, and also too startlingly original, bothin spirit and in form. 

At the time there was only one stage in Sweden where such a work couldbe produced--the Royal Theatre at Stockholm. To the officials of thisstate--supported institution Strindberg submitted his work--hopefully, as we know from his own statement. It was scornfully and ignominiouslyrejected, the main criticism being that a serious historical dramain prose was unthinkable. I shall make no comment whatever on thatjudgment, having in mind how several years later Edmund Gosse bewailedthe failure of Ibsen to give a metrical form to his Emperor andGalilean. 

Strindberg's next effort concerned publication. In this respect hewas equally unsuccessful, although as a rule it has never been verydifficult in Sweden to find a publisher for any work of reasonablemerit. But the play was not only too original, it was too dangerouslyradical for a country where a truly modern form of representativegovernment had not been achieved until seven years earlier. Strindbergwas at first stunned by this failure. He seriously contemplatedgiving up writing altogether. When he had recovered somewhat, he seemsreluctantly to have faced the possibility that the fault might be foundin the play and not in the public. 

So he set about to re-write it--and he did so not only once butrepeatedly, producing in all six versions that differ more or less fromone another. At first he clung to the prose form. Gradually he began tointroduce verse, until finally, in 1877 or 1878, he completed an almostnew play, where the metrical form predominated without being usedexclusively. This version was actually published in 1878. Originally, anepilogue was appended to it, but this was dropped from all but a smallpart of the first edition. It is supposed to take place a number ofyears later than the fifth act, and shows Olof with his two sonsoutside the city walls of Stockholm, where they witness a miracle-playintroducing God as the principle of darkness and Lucifer as theoverthrown but never conquered principle of light. The bittergeneralizations of this afterthought explain Sufficiently why itwas excluded. To the later Strindberg--the man who wrote Advent, forinstance--it must have seemed one of his most unforgivable offences. 

Although Strindberg's main object in working over his play undoubtedlywas to obtain its production, the metrical version was not put on thestage until 1890, when, however, it was performed at the Royal Theatre, toward which its author had looked so longingly and so vainly eighteenyears earlier. The prose version, on the other hand, was produced asearly as 1881, at the New Theatre in Stockholm, but was not publisheduntil the same year, when it appeared in book form grouped with a numberof other writings from Strindberg's earliest period. 

Of the five unprinted versions connecting the original prose dramaof 1872 with the final metrical form of 1878, more or less completemanuscripts have been preserved, and these are now being examined indetail by the Swedish literary historian, Professor Karl Warburg. Asummary analysis by Dr. John Landquist is appended to the secondvolume of the definitive edition of Strindberg's complete works (AlbertBonnier, Stockholm), where the epilogue to the metrical version is alsoreprinted after so many years of oblivion. 

"Of all the manuscripts preceding the final metrical version, " says Dr. Landquist, "the original one, written when Strindberg was twenty-three, is the masterpiece. There everything is consistent; there the dialoguehas a power and an incisiveness to which it does not attain in any ofthe unprinted manuscripts. On the contrary, these seem more youthfulthan the original, producing at times an impression of immaturity anduncertainty on the part of the author. Even when some isolated phrasestrikes one as fortunate, it does not tend to strengthen the drama asa whole. The later versions lack that sense of inner unity and thataudacious touch which lend fascination and power to the originalmanuscript. 

"Not until we reach the first metrical version (of 1876) does the fullpower of the playwright begin to reassert itself in such fashion thatout of his untiring labors at last springs a new work, the mood of whichdiffers essentially from that of the first prose version. These twoversions--the first and the final--are the results of diametricallyopposed methods of work. The first was written with a certainty andswiftness of inspiration that raised the young poet far above theproductive powers generally characteristic of his years. The subsequentmodifications prove merely how futile are the efforts of reason toimprove what intuition has inspired. But gradually it seems to havedawned on the poet that he was about to evolve a wholly new work--thatwhat he had come to aim at was quite distinct from what he had beenaiming at in the beginning, and from that moment his artistic reasoningcarried him onward until at last a new inspiration brought the work toits completion. "

Concerning the final metrical version, I can give only a few outstandingand rather superficial facts, hoping that I may some time have theopportunity of presenting it entire to the American public. Like theprose version, it has five acts, but these are not subdivided intoscenes. It is briefer, more concentrated both in spirit and in form, and may be said to display a greater unity of purpose. It is more human, too, and less titanic. The change shows itself strikingly in a figurelike that of Mårten, who in the metrical version has become softenedinto an unconscionable but rather lovable rapscallion. The last remarkbut one made by Mårten when driven from Dame Christine's deathbed byOlof is: "Talk to your mother, son--the two of you have so much toforgive each other. "

In strength and passion and daring, on the other hand, the final versionfalls far short of the original one, and the very fact that it is morelogical, more carefully reasoned, tends at times to render it lesspsychologically true. Each version has its own merits and its ownfaults, and in their appeal they are so radically different thata choice between them must always remain meaningless except ontemperamental grounds. At one point, however--and an important one atthat--the metrical version seems to me the happier by far. 

That cry of "renegade, " which, echoing from the dim recesses of thechurch, makes the prose version end on a note of perplexing irony, maybe theatrically effective, but it can hardly be called logical. Gert hasbeen disposed of. His sudden return out of the clutches of the soldiersis inexplicable and unwarranted. Worse still, he has only a shortwhile previous been urging Olof to live on for his work. If Olof bea renegade, he is so upon the advice of Gert himself, and to call theconcession made by Olof for the saving of his own life far-reachingenough to explain Gert's sudden change of attitude approachesdangerously near to quibbling. In the metrical version, on the otherhand, the same cry of "renegade" is quite logically and suitablywrung from the lips of Vilhelm, the scholar who is still dreaming ofuncompromised ideals. But it is not the final word. This comes fromOlof, and takes the form of a brief apostrophe to the fleeing Vilhelm, which I think ranks with the finest passages produced by Strindberg. Apologetically, I offer this English version of it as a fitting close tomy Introduction:

 Olof. Oh, what a word! But though it shook the air, These columns did not stir, nor fell the dome, And I stand calm upon this lonely shore, Where I was dropped by the receding waves-- For, after all, I am ashore. And now A last "good luck upon the road" I send To speed the daring sailor who will give No ear to one that just has come to grief. With sails hauled close, steer for the open sea And for the far-off goal your soul desires! Ere long you must fall off like all the rest, Although a star your guiding landmark be For in due time the stars themselves must fall!

EDWIN BJORKMAN MAY 15, 1915

MASTER OLOF

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

 OLOF PEDERSSON (Olaus Petri), generally known as MASTER OLOF. GERT THE PRINTER. GUSTAF ERIKSSON VASA, King of Sweden. HANS BRASK, Bishop of Linköping. MÅNS SOMMAR, Bishop of Strängnäs. LARS SIGGESON, Lord High Constable. LARS ANDERSSON (Laurentius Andreae), Lord High Chancellor. LARS PEDERSSON (Laurentius Petri), brother of Master Olof. HANS WINDRANK, a Master Mariner. A Man from Småland. A German. A Dane. MÅRTEN and NILS, Black Friars. A Tavern-keeper. A Burier. First Scholar. Second Scholar. The Sexton at St. Nicolaus (or Greatchurch). A Servant of the Palace. An Overseer. A Townsman. A Courtier. DAME CHRISTINE, Olof's mother. CHRISTINE, daughter of Gert the Printer. A Harlot. A Woman. The Sexton's Wife. The Abbess of St. Clara. Headsman, Townsfolk, Laborers, etc. 

ACT I: At Strängnäs. 

ACTS II, III, IV, AND V: At Stockholm. 

ACT I

(A Cloister opening upon a Convent Close planted with groups of trees. The convent church forms the right side of the quadrangle. A brick wallruns along the rear. Fruit trees in blossom appear above the wall. Olof is seated on a stone bench. Before him stand two scholars, who arereading their respective parts out of "The Comedy of Tobit. ")

First Scholar. 

 Now have our enemies trapped us full well. Woe unto us, poor children of Israel!

Second Scholar. 

 Yea, brother, good cause you have to make such plaint! Now certes we have come upon days of great lament-- Our land is taken away, and so's our increase, And ne'er we may look for any help or surcease. It must be, as long I have both dreamt and said, That the promise to Abram has been long mislaid. 

[Enter Lars Andersson. ]

Lars Andersson. What are you doing?

Olof. I am playing. 

Lars. Playing--you?

Olof. I am playing a little comedy about the children of Israel and theBabylonian captivity. 

Lars. Have you nothing better to do? Bigger work is waiting for you. 

Olof. I am too young. 

Lars. Do not say you are too young. 

Olof. No, for there are plenty of others who say it. 

Lars (takes out a roll of paper, which he opens; for a while he standslooking at Olof; then he begins to read) "Then the word of the Lordcame unto Jeremiah: 'Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee;and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee, and Iordained thee a prophet unto the nations. '

"Then said Jeremiah: 'Ah, Lord God! behold, I cannot speak, for I am achild. '

"But the Lord said: 'Say not, I am a child; for thou shalt go to allthat I shall send thee, and whatsoever I command thee thou shalt speak. For, behold, I have made thee this day a defenced city, and an ironpillar, and brazen walls against the whole land, against the kings ofJudah, against the princes thereof, against the priests thereof, andagainst the people of the land. And they shall fight against thee; butthey shall not prevail against thee; for I am with thee, ' saith theLord, 'to deliver thee. '"

Olof (leaping to his feet). Did the Lord say that?

Lars. "Thou therefore gird up thy loins and arise, and speak unto themall that I command thee. "

Olof. Why do not you go?

Lars. I am too old. 

Olof. You are afraid!

Lars. I am, for I have not the strength; but you have--and now may theLord give you the faith also. 

Olof. Oh, once I did have the flame of faith, and it burned wondrously, but the monkish gang smothered it with their holy water when they weretrying to read the devil out of my body. 

Lars. That was a fire of straw which had to flicker out; but nowthe Lord will light you a fire of logs by which the offspring of thePhilistines shall be consumed. Do you know your own will, Olof?

Olof. No, but I feel myself choking when I think of these poorpeople who yearn for salvation. They are crying for water--for livingwater--but there is no one who can give it to them. 

Lars. Tear down the crumbling old house first, you can do that. Then theLord Himself will build them a new one. 

Olof. Then they will be without a roof over their heads for a time. 

Lars. They will at least get fresh air. 

Olof. But to rob a whole nation of its faith--they will despair. 

Lars. Yes, they will despair. 

Olof. But they will decry me, and revile me, and drag me before theelders. 

Lars. Are you afraid?

Olof. No--but the offence--

Lars. You were born to give offence, Olof; you were born to smite. TheLord will heal. 

Olof. I can feel the pull of the current; I am still clinging to thesluice-gate, but if I let go, I shall be swept away. 

Lars. Let go! There are more than enough who hold back. 

Olof. Reach out your hand to me, Lars, if I get too far into thewhirlpool. 

Lars. That is not in my power, and into the whirlpool you must go, evenif it be to perish. 

Olof. What storms you have raised in my soul! A moment ago I sat hereand played in the shadow of the trees, and it was Whitsun Eve, and itwas spring, and all was peace. And now--how can the trees be still, andwhy is there no darkness in the sky? Put your hand on my forehead, feel the blood surging! Do not abandon me, Lars! I see an angel comingtowards me with a cup--she is walking across the evening sky--her pathis blood-red, and in her hand she is carrying a cross--No, it is morethan I avail! I will return to my peaceful valley. Let others fight; Iwill look on--No, I will follow in their wake and heal the wounded andwhisper words of peace into the ears of the dying--Peace!--No, I want tofight with the rest, but in the last ranks--Why should I lead?

Lars. Because you are the boldest. 

Olof. Not the strongest?

Lars. The strong will come after you: and the strongest of all is byyour side; it is He who summons you to battle. 

Olof. Help me, O Lord! I go. 

Lars. Amen!

Olof. And will you come with me?

Lars. You must go alone--with God!

Olof. Why do you turn back?

Lars. I was not born to be a warrior: your armorer is all that I canbe. Your weapon is the pure Word of God, and with that you must armthe people. For the doors to the popish armory have been broken open atlast, and hereafter every one calling himself a man must fight for thefreedom of his own spirit. 

Olof. But where is the enemy? I am burning for battle, yet see no one tofight against. 

Lars. No need to summon them; they will come! Farewell! You may beginwhenever you are ready, and may God be with you!

Olof. Don't go. I have much more to talk with you about. 

Lars. Here comes the vanguard now--to arms!

[Exit Lars. ]

(A crowd of townsmen with their women and children pass across the stageto the church door at the right. They stop in front of it, bare theirheads, and make the sign of the cross. )

Gert the Printer (disguised as a townsman). It's Whitsun Eve, and nobodyhas rung the vesper bell--that's very strange. 

A Townsman. The church door is closed. Maybe the priest is sick. 

Gert. Or not yet out of bed. 

Townsman. What do you mean?

Gert. Only that he might be sick abed. 

Townsman. But there are a lot of acolytes, and one of them might besaying a mass for us in his place. 

Gert. They are probably too busy. 

Townsman. With what?

Gert. That's hard to tell. 

Townsman. Take care, my good man! You seem to have a leaning towardsLutherism. Bishop Hans of Linköping is here, and so's the King. 

Gert. Is Brask in town?

Townsman. Indeed he is. But I suppose we had better try the church doorto see if it be really closed. 

Gert (runs up the steps and beats the church door with his fist). Thehouse of God is closed this Whitsun Eve. The reverend clergy will grantno audience with the Lord to-day, and so the worshipful commonalty willhave to go home and go to bed without any mass. Look here, good folk!Here you have a door--mere wood, of course, but that matters little, asit is lined with copper. Just take a look at this door! If I say thatthe Lord is living within--this being His house; and if I say that thebishop's diaconus, or secretarius, or canonicus, or some other fellowending in 'us'--for it's only these clerical gentlemen that end in 'us';and if I say that some fellow of that kind has the key hanging on a nailin his bedroom: then I don't mean to say that he has locked up the Lordand put the key on a nail in his bedroom: but all I mean to say isthat we can't get in, and that there will be no divine service for itsto-night--for us who have toiled six days making shoes and coats--whohave spent the whole week brewing and baking and butchering for thereverend clergy in order that the said clergy might have strength enoughon the seventh day to celebrate divine service for its. Of course, I amnot at all saying this in reproach of the right reverend members of thisChapter; for they, too, are nothing but human beings, you know, and itwas only the Lord who could stand working six days and be satisfied withresting on the seventh. 

Townsman. You're blaspheming God, master townsman!

Gert. Well, He can't hear it when the door is closed. 

A Woman. Jesu Maria! He's an Antichrist!

Gert (beating at the door). Do you hear how hollow it sounds?--It iswrit in the Bible that once upon a time the veil before the Holiest ofHolies was rent in twain, and it must be true--but nothing is said inthe Bible about the clerical gentlemen having sewed the veil togetheragain, which, of course, is no reason why it shouldn't have been done. 

(The crowd makes a rush at Gert; the children begin to cry. )

Townsman. Out on you, Luther! For that's what you are. We have sinned, and for that reason the Lord has closed His house. Can't you hear thatthe very children cry out at the sight of you, unclean spirit that youare?

Gert. Naturally, when you step on their toes, my dear friends--

Woman. Don't go near him! He has a devil!

Townsman. Down with him! Down with him!

Gert. Don't touch me, for here I am under the protection of the Lord. 

Townsman. The Lord will not protect the angel that was cast out. 

Gert. If the Lord won't, the Holy Church will, and I am now within herconsecrated walls. 

Townsman. Get him away from the church wall!

Gert. If you don't fear God, you must at least fear the ban of the HolyFather. 

Woman. Drag him away from that door! It is his unclean spirit that hascast a spell on the church. 

Townsman. That's it! The Lord won't open His church to the Devil. 

(The crowd is rushing at Gert again, when the Bishop's Secretary enters, preceded by a verger, who calls upon the people to attend. )

Secretary (reading). "Whereas our cathedral city has failed in thepayment of its tithes to this See, and whereas it continues refractoryin regard to such payments, the Chapter has deemed it necessary, inaccordance with its vested rights and the sanction granted by the HolyCuria, to close the doors of the church and to discontinue all massesand sacrifices until the aforesaid dereliction shall have beenduly remedied; failure to observe which shall be at the risk of ourdispleasure. Datum vigilia assumptionis Mariae. Chapter of Strängnäs. "[Exit. ]

Gert. What do you say to that, good folk?

Townsman. No mass on Whitsun Eve? That's a shame!

Gert. Take care! Say nothing evil of the priests; maybe they're not toblame. 

Townsman. Who is to blame, then?

Gert. The Church! That invisible and omnipotent something! It is theChurch, you see, that has closed the church. (The crowd gives evidenceof disapproval. )

Olof (who in the meantime has come forward, seizes a rope hangingfrom the bell tower, and begins to ring vespers). If your worship beseriously meant, I'll say mass for you. 

Townsman. Many thanks, Master Olof, but are you aware of what that maylead to?

Olof. Let us fear the Lord more than men! (The crowd kneels. ) Dearfriends! Brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus! As we are now cometogether here--

Townsman. Master Olof--

Olof. What is it?

Townsman. We want a real mass, and not any new inventions of men. 

Gert. It has to be in Latin, my dear Master Olof, or we can't understandwhat you say. 

Townsman. It has to be in the sacred tongue--or anybody might say mass. 

Olof. And so you shall! Everyone for himself, with God!

Crowd. A Luther! A Luther! Antichrist!

Townsman. Well, well, Master Olof, have you, too, so young and zealous, become tainted by the German devil? I am an old man, who has seen muchof the world, and I mean well by you--Turn back while you are stillyoung!--Do as we ask you and give us the old mass. 

Olof. No, there must be an end to that mummery. Ye shall pray in spiritand in truth, and not in words ye do not understand. 

Townsman. Don't you think, my young friend, that the Lord understandsLatin?

Gert. But Swedish He doesn't understand at all!

Townsman. Master Olof, are you going to let the people depart from youwithout a word to edify them? Can't you see how they are yearning fortheir God? Make a sacrifice of your own sinful will, and don't let thepeople go from you like sheep that have no shepherd. 

Olof. You call my will sinful?

Townsman. You are a hard man!

Olof. Say not so! Do you know what the ringing of this bell will costme?

Townsman. Your vanity. 

Gert. And your peace! For it was the alarum bell that rang in thebattle. Hey-ho, this is the start! Soon the bells of Stockholm willrespond, and then the blood of Hus, and of Ziska, and of all thethousands of peasants will be on the heads of the princes and thepapists. 

Woman. Woe unto us! What is he raving about?

Townsman. Do you know this man, Master Olof?

Olof. No. 

Gert. Yes, Olof, you know me. Deny me not! Are you afraid of thesemiserable creatures who do not want their own welfare--and who havenever heard the word "freedom"?

Olof. What is your name?

Gert. If I told, you would all tremble. Yet you must tremble in orderthat you may wake out of your sleep. I am named the angel that wascast out and that is to come again ten thousand times; I am named theliberator that came too early; I am named Satan because I love you morethan my own life; I have been named Luther; I have been named Hus. Now Iam named Anabaptist!

Crowd (shrink back and begin to cross themselves). Anabaptist!

Gert (removing his disguise and revealing himself as much older than hehad seemed). Do you know me now, Olof?

Olof. Father Gert!

Townsman. He calls him father!

Crowd (drawing back from Olof and Gert). Anabaptist! Anabaptist!

Woman. Don't you see, it's he who was put under the ban--

Townsman. Gert the Printer--the bishop's printer--

Another Townsman. The man who printed Luther!

Woman. Woe unto us and to our city! Woe to our priests when they bearcompany with Antichrist!

Townsman. He denies the holy baptism!

Woman. He denies God. (The crowd disperses. )

Olof. That was dangerous talk, Father Gert. 

Gert. You really think it was dangerous, Olof? Bless you for thosewords!

Olof. Dangerous for you, I mean. 

Gert. Not for any one else?

Olof. Let us hope not. 

Gert. You have known Luther?

Olof. Indeed, I have! And now I want to carry out his work in my owncountry. 

Gert. Is that all?

Olof. What do you mean?

Gert. It is not enough! Luther is dead. He made a beginning, we have togo on. 

Olof. Whither do you want to lead me?

Gert. Far, Olof, very far!

Olof. I am afraid of you, Father Gert. 

Gert. Yes, and will be more so; for I shall take you up on a highmountain, and from there you shall overlook the whole world. You see, Olof, it is now Whitsuntide; it was at this time the Holy Ghost camedown and filled the Apostles--nay, all humanity. The spirit of the Lordhas descended upon me. I feel it, and for that reason they shut me uplike one demented. But now I am free again, and now I shall speak theword; for now, Olof, we are standing on the mountain. Behold the peoplecrawling on their knees before those two men seated on their thrones. The taller holds two keys in one hand and a thunderbolt in the other. That is the Pope. Now he hurls his thunderbolt, and a thousand soulspass into perdition, while the rest kiss his foot and sing GloriaDeo--but he who is seated on the throne turns about and smiles. Nowbehold his companion. He has a sword and at sceptre. Bow down beforethe sceptre, lest the sword smite you. When he knits his brows all thepeople tremble. (He turns toward the man on the other throne, and bothsmile. ) They are two pillars of Baal. Then is heard a sound out ofheaven as of a host muttering. "Who is grumbling?" exclaims the Pope, shaking his thunderbolt. "Who is muttering?"--and the Emperor shakeshis sword. Nobody answers, but still there is grumbling in the air, androaring, and a cry of "Think!" The Pope cowers, and the Emperor, turningpale, demands: "Who was it that cried 'Think'? Bring him here, and Iwill take his life!" The Pope shouts: "Bring him here, and I will takehis soul!" The cry came out of heaven, and was uttered by no one. Butstill the sound of it rises; a storm wind springs up; it sweeps over theAlps and goes roaring across Fichtelgebirge; it stirs up the Baltic andechoes from the shores, and the cry is repeated a thousand times allover the world: "Freedom, freedom!" The Pope throws his keys into thesea, and the Emperor sheathes his sword, for against that cry theyavail nothing. --Oh, Olof, you wish to smite the Pope, but you forget theEmperor--the Emperor, who is killing his people without counting thembecause they dare to sigh when he tramples on their chests. You want tosmite the Pope at Rome, but, like Luther, you want to give them a newpope in Holy Writ. Listen! Listen! Bind not the spirits with any fetterswhatsoever! Forget not the great Whitsunday! Forget not your great goal:spiritual life and spiritual freedom! Listen not to the cry of death:"And behold, it is all good!" For then the millennium, the kingdom ofliberty, will never arrive--and it is that which is now beginning. (Olofremains silent. ) Does it make you dizzy?

Olof. You go too far, Gert. 

Gert. The day shall come when they will call me papist. Aim at the sky, and you will hit the forest line ahead of you. 

Olof. Turn back, Gert! You'll bring disaster on yourself and on therealm. Can't you see how the country is still shivering with thewound-fever caused by the last war? And you wish to sow the seeds ofcivil war. It is a godless deed!

Gert. No, the knife is in the flesh now. Cut away, and the body may besaved. 

Olof. I'll denounce you as a traitor to your country. 

Gert. You had better not, seeing that to-day you have offended theChurch beyond repair. Besides--

Olof. Speak out, Gert. Just now you look like Satan himself!

Gert. You shall have my secret: deal with it to suit yourself. TheKing leaves for Malmö to-day, and the day after to-morrow, perchance, Stockholm may be in open revolt. 

Olof. What are you talking about?

Gert. Do you know Rink and Knipperdollink?

Olof (alarmed). The Anabaptists!

Gert. Yes. What's so startling in that? They are nothing but a coupleof lubberly tradesmen. A furrier and a grocer, who deny the use ofbaptizing unconscious children, and who are simple-minded enough tooppose the forcing of irrational creatures into deliberate perjury. 

Olof. That is not all. 

Gert. What is it, then?

Olof. They are possessed. 

Gert. Of the spirit, yes. It is the storm wind that is crying throughthem. Beware, if you get into its path!

Olof. This must be stopped. I am going to the King. 

Gert. We should be friends, Olof. Your mother is living in Stockholm, isn't she?

Olof. You know it, then?

Gert. Do you know that my daughter Christine is with your mother?

Olof. Christine?

Gert. Yes, for the present. If we win, your mother will be protectedfor my daughter's sake; and if the Catholics win, my daughter willbe protected for your mother's sake. You are a little concerned aboutChristine, are you not?

Olof. Gert, Gert, what made you so wise?

Gert. The madhouse. 

Olof. Go away from me! You'll lead me into disaster. 

Gert. Yes, if you call it a disaster to be robbed of all earthlyhappiness, to be dragged into prison, to suffer poverty, to be scornedand reviled fur the sake of truth. If so, you are not worthy of such asplendid disaster. I thought you would understand me, I counted on yourhelp, for in you the fire is still burning, but I see that the world istempting you. Well, follow the stream and be happy!

Olof. How could a man make over the age in which he is living?

Gert. That's what Luther has done. 

Olof. How can one man check a stream?

Gert. Guide it, you fool--for we are the stream. The old are stagnantmudpools, you don't need to check them, but don't let them rot away ordry up; give them an outlet, and they'll flow with the stream, too. 

Olof. Yes, I understand you! You have bred a thought in my soul, butthat thought must be strangled in its birth, or it will kill me. 

Gert. Believe me, you will be a Daniel, and you will speak the truthunto princes, and they will conspire to take your life; but the Lordwill protect you. --Now I can safely leave, for I see lightnings flashfrom your eyes and tongues of fire flickering over your head. (As he isleaving. ) There comes the Lord of Flies: don't let him defile your puresoul also. 

Olof. Jesus help me!

[Enter Bishop Brask and Bishop Sommar. Sommar approaches Olof, whileBrask remains behind, studying the surroundings. ]

Sommar. Who rang vespers, Canonicus?

Olof (calmly but firmly). I did. 

Sommar. Didn't you know the order?

Olof. I was aware of the prohibition. 

Sommar. And you dared to defy it?

Olof. Yes, when the people were let go like sheep without a shepherd, Iwanted to keep them together. 

Sommar. You seem to be finding fault with our actions. That's impudenceindeed. 

Olof. Truth is always impudent. 

Sommar. I believe, young man, that you want to play the part of anapostle of truth. It will bring you no thanks. 

Olof. All I ask is ingratitude. 

Sommar. Save your truths. They don't retain their value in the marketvery long. 

Olof (impetuously). That's advice worthy of the Father ofLies!--(Mildly. ) I ask your pardon!

Sommar. Do you know to whom you are talking?

Olof (heatedly). To servus servi servorum Måns Sommar!

Brask (stepping forward). Who is this man?

Sommar. One of the attendants in the church. 

Brask. What's his name?

Sommar. Olof Pedersson, alias Olaus Petri. 

Brask (staring hard at Olof). So you are Master Olof? (Olof bowsand looks fixedly at Brask. ) I like you. Would you care to become mysecretary?

Olof. Many thanks, Your Grace, but I have no recommendations. 

Brask. What have you to say, Bishop Måns?

Sommar. He is said to have found much favor with Dr. Luther. 

Brask. So I've heard. Nothing but youthful spirits. We'll train him. 

Olof. I fear it is too late!

Brask. A sapling can be bent. 

Sommar. It is not wise to raise vipers, Your Grace. Our canonicus herehas strong leanings toward heresy, and to-day he has dared to defy ourorders. 

Brask. Is that so?

Sommar. On fully legal grounds we have proclaimed an interdict, and thisman has ventured to say mass--worse than that, he has said a Lutheranmass, and thus stirred up the people. 

Brask. Take care, young man! Don't you know that the ban will fall onanybody who proclaims Luther?

Olof. I know it, but I fear no other god than God. 

Brask. Consider your words. I mean well by you, and you repel me. 

Olof. You want to purchase my ability for the doctoring of your sickcause, and I am shameless enough not to sell myself. 

Brask. By Saint George, I think you are out of your senses!

Olof. If so, don't give me the same treatment as Gert the Printer. Youput him in a madhouse, and it made him too wise, I fear. 

Brask (to Bishop Sommar). Do you know Gert?

Sommar. No, Your Grace. 

Brask. He's a lunatic who used my press to print Lutheran writings inplace of the anti-Lutheran stuff I put into his hands. Moreover, he wasdreaming of the Apocalypse and the Millennium. (To Olof. ) Have you seenhim?

Olof. He was here awhile ago, and you can expect but little good of him. 

Brask. Is he at large?

Olof. He'll be in Stockholm soon, and from there you'll hear of him, Ithink. Take care, my Lord Bishop!

Brask. Ho, there is nothing to fear yet. 

Olof. The Anabaptists are in Stockholm. 

Brask. What do you say?

Olof. The Anabaptists are in Stockholm!

Brask. The Anabaptists?

[Enter Gustaf Vasa suddenly. ]

Gustaf. What's up? The city is in a tumult, the people are marchingthrough the streets crying for the mass. What's the meaning of all this?

Brask. Mischief, Your Highness. 

Gustaf. Bishop Måns!

Sommar. The city has failed to pay its tithes. 

Gustaf. And for that reason you refuse to hold divine service? 'Sdeath!

Brask. Your Highness ought to remember--

Gustaf. Answer me, Bishop Malls!

Sommar. Your Highness ought to remember that matters like these, whichfall within the jurisdiction of the Church--

Gustaf. I command you to attend to your duties!

Brask. The Bishops of Sweden take no orders except from their superiors, the Pope and the Canon Law. 

Gustaf (checked). I know, but if the Pope cannot always keep an eye onthem?

Brask. That's our concern. 

Gustaf (flares up, but controls himself at once). Your Grace is right. It will remain your concern. 

Brask. To change the subject--Stockholm is about to rise in rebellion. 

Gustaf. Who says so?

Sommar. Our canonicus here. 

Gustaf. Your schoolmaster? Where is he? Oh, is it you? What's your name?

Olof. Olof Pedersson. 

Gustaf. Master Olof! They tell the you are a heretic, and that you arescheming against Holy Church! That's a perilous venture!

Brask. This very day he has dropped his mask by daring to show opendefiance of the Chapter's prohibition against services, and for thatreason we demand that Your Highness consent to have him duly punished. 

Gustaf. That's a matter for the Chapter and does not concern me. (ToOlof. ) But what was that you had to say about a rebellion at Stockholm?

Olof. The Anabaptists!

Gustaf. Is that all?

Brask. Does not Your Highness know how those madmen have been carryingon in Germany? We suggest that Your Highness return to the city inperson with your armed force. 

Gustaf. That's a matter in which I suit myself!

Brask. But civil war--

Gustaf. That's _my_ concern! (To Olof. ) Olof, I appoint you to theclerkship of our court-house at Stockholm. Get over there at once. Speakto the people. I put my trust in you!

Brask. For the country's sake I ask Your Highness to consider thefutility of wasting speech on madmen. 

Gustaf. Souls are not controlled by swords. Bear that in mind, YourLordships. 

Brask. The Church has never--

Gustaf. Nor by keys! (To Olof. ) Go to my chancellor, and he will giveyou your appointment. 

Brask. You had better wait a moment, canonicus. 

Gustaf. Our secretary will not put your orders ahead of mine. 

Brask. The rights of the Church must be assured first of all. OlofPedersson--

Gustaf (correcting him). Secretary--

Brask. Secretary Olof Pedersson cannot leave this city until the Chapterhas pronounced its verdict. 

Gustaf. The Chapter must try the case before it can pronounce a verdict. 

Brask. That's our concern. 

Gustaf. It is not your concern, Bishop Brask. The Bishop of Linköpingcannot sit in judgment on a canonicus at Strängnäs. Speak for yourself, Bishop Sommar. 

Sommar. After what has just occurred--h'm!

Brask. All further arguments would seem superfluous. 

Gustaf. You had better be silent, Bishop Brask, or leave us, as I amtalking privately to Bishop Sommar--privately!--Well, speak up, BishopMåns!

Sommar. I cannot see but--that--as His Grace, the Bishop of Linköping--

Gustaf. We are talking of Master Olof now. Your Lordships will have topostpone the trial. Be kind enough to leave us. 

[Exeunt Bishops. ]

Gustaf (to Olof). Will you be my man?

Olof. Your Highness' secretary?

Gustaf. No, my right hand--on the condition that for the present theleft hand shall not know what the right is doing. Go to Stockholm. 

Olof. The Chapter will demand my surrender and ban me. 

Gustaf. Before they get to that point you may fall back on me, but untilthen--stand on your own feet as far as you can. 

Olof. What is Your Highness' will?

Gustaf. Talk to those fanatics in Stockholm. 

Olof. And then?

Gustaf. Oh, that's a long way off. I don't dare to think so faryet. --Let them preach. It can't hurt those sottish spirits to hear anew word, even if it be not all true. But there must be no violence; forthen the sword will join in the game. Farewell, Olof! [Exit. ]

Olof (alone). So the Emperor won't be friends with the Pope!

(The two scholars, who have been waiting among the trees in thebackground, come forward. )

First Scholar. Shall we go on with the play, Master Olof?

Olof. No, children, there will be no more playing. 

First Scholar. Are you going to leave us, Master Olof?

Olof. Yes, and probably forever. 

First Scholar. Can't you stay over Whitsuntide, so that we can performour comedy?

Second Scholar. And so that I can play the Angel Gabriel?

First Scholar. Please do as we ask you, Master Olof! You are the onlyone who has been nice to us and spared us those terrible fasts. 

Second Scholar. Oh, don't go away from us, Master Olof!

Olof. You don't know what you are asking, children. The day will comewhen you shall thank the Lord that I did go away from you. --Oh, no, I hope such a day will never come!--But let us make our leave-takingbrief. Good-bye, Nils! Good-bye, Vilhelm!

(He embraces them, and they kiss his hand. In the meantime LarsAndersson has entered and is watching the group closely. )

First Scholar. Won't you ever come back, Master Olof?

Lars (coming forward). Are you ready to start now?

Olof (to the scholars). No, I shall never come back. 

Scholars (as they go out). Good-bye, Master Olof, and don't forget us!(Olof stands looking after them. )

Lars. I have seen the King. 

Olof (absent-mindedly). Have you?

Lars. Do you know what he said?

Olof. No. 

Lars. "I have got a harrier to raise the game; now it remains to be seenwhether he will come back when I whistle for him!"

Olof. Look at them--playing there among the graves, and picking flowers, and singing the songs of Whitsuntide. 

Lars (taking hold of Olof's arm). Child!

Olof (with a start). What did you say?

Lars. I thought you had laid your hand so firmly on the plough handleto-day that there could be no question of looking back. (Olof waves hishand to the scholars. ) Are you still dreaming?

Olof. It was the last bright morning dream that passed away from me. Pardon me--I am awake now!

[Exeunt toward the right. Then they are nearly out, Olof turns for alast look at the scholars. These have disappeared in the meantime, andin their place appear the two Black Friars, Mårten and Nils. On seeingthem, Olof utters a startled cry and puts one hand to his forehead. Larsdrags him out. ]

ACT II

SCENE 1

(A Room in the Foundation Wall of the Church of St. Nicolaus atStockholm (generally known as Greatchurch), used as a beer-shop. A barfull of pots and mugs occupies the background. To the right of the barstands a table, back of which appears an iron door. Two disguised friars(Mårten and Nils) are seated at this table drinking beer. The othertables are surrounded by German mercenaries, peasants, and sailors. The door to the street is at the right. A fiddler is seated on top ofa barrel. The soldiers are throwing dice. All are drunk and noisy. HansWindrank, a man from Småland, a German tradesman, and a Dane are seatedtogether at one of the tables. )

German (to the Dane). So you defend a bloodthirsty brute like Christian?

Dane. Oh, mercy, he's human, isn't he?

German. Not, he's a monster! A bloodthirsty brute! A treacherous, cowardly Dane!

Dane. Zounds! But you'd better not talk of blood. Do you remember themassacre on Käppling Island, when the Germans--

Windrank. Listen to me, good Sirs! Let's be friends now, and have somefun, and I'll tell you about Americky. 

German. Are you going to blame us of Lübeck for what the Germans did?

Dane. Oh, mercy, I was talking of the Germans only--

Windrank. Listen, good Sirs, what's the use of quarrelling? (To theTavern-keeper. ) Four noggins of gin! Now let's be calm and agreeable, and I'll tell you of Americky. (They are served. )

German (sipping). A noble drink! Think of it, good Sirs, how everythingis advancing. To-day the grain is growing in the field--

Windrank. And to-morrow it's made into wine. I wonder who first foundout how it's done?

German. Beg your pardon, but that's a German invention. I call itinvention, because you discover Americky. 

Windrank. And the Germans never make any discoveries?

German. 'Sdeath!

Windrank. Now, now! You're no German, you said. 

Dane (to the German). Can you tell the who invented the story that theSwedes got their present king from the Germans? (General laughter. )

German. It was we of Lübeck what gave Sweden a liberator when she was onthe verge of ruin. 

Windrank. Here's to the King!

Dane. Here's to Lübeck!

German (flattered). Really I don't know how to--

Windrank. Why, you aren't the King!

German. Beg your pardon, but it was my Danish brother's--

Dane. How can you be of Lübeck when you are a citizen of Stockholm?

Windrank (to the Man from Småland). Why won't our silent brother drinkat all?

Man from Småland. I'll drink your corn-juice, but when it comes to theKing's health, I do like this! (He crushes the tin cup and throws it onthe floor. )

Windrank (groping with one hand for his sheath knife. ) You won't drinkthe King's health?

Man from Småland. I've been drinking the cup he offered me so long thatI don't care to drink his health any longer. 

Windrank. 'Sblood!

German (eagerly). Hush, hush! Let's hear what he's got to say. 

Dane (in the same way). Mercy, yes!

A Man from Småland. The Lord help me when I get home again!

Windrank (sentimentally). What is it, my dear man? Why do you look sosad? Do you need money? Look here, now! (He pulls out his purse. ) I'vehalf my wages left. What's the matter with you?

Man from Småland. Don't let us talk about it. More gin! Gin here! I'vemoney, too. Do you see? Gold! (The liquor is served). It isn't mine, butI'll spend it on drink to the last farthing, and you'll please help me. 

Windrank. And yet it isn't your money--how can you do that?

German. Who's wronged you, my dear fellow? I can see that you have faredbadly. 

A Man from Småland I am ruined! You see, I got two hundred oxen ontrust, and when I came to Stockholm the King's agent took charge ofthe whole business, and he said I couldn't sell them for more than heallowed. It's the King that fixes the price on oxen--it's the King thathas ruined me. 

German. You don't say!

Man from Småland. Oh, I know a lot more. He means to take thepriests and the monks away from us in order to give everything to thegentlefolk. 

Dane. To the gentlefolk?

Man from Småland. Exactly! I wish King Christian--God bless him!--hadcut off a few more heads. 

Windrank. Well, is the King like that? I thought he had those noblefellows by the ear. 

Man from Småland. He? No, he lets them be born with the right to cutoak on my ground, if I had any. For I did have a patch of land once, yousee, but then came a lord who said that my great-grandmother had takenit all in loan from his great-grandfather, and so there was an end tothat story. 

German. Why, is the King like that? I would never have believed it. 

Man from Småland. Indeed he is! Those high-born brats run around withtheir guns in our woods and pick off the deer out of sheer mischief, butif one of us peasants were dying from hunger and took a shot at one ofthe beasts--well, then he wouldn't have to starve to death, for they'dhang him--but not to an oak--Lord, no! That would be a shame for sucha royal tree. No, just to an ordinary pine. The pine, you see, has nocrown, and that's why it isn't royal--and that's why the old song says:

 The peasants we hanged in lines From the tops of the tallest pities. 

It has nothing to say about crowns, mind you. 

German. But the pine carries its head high just the same, and its backis straight. 

Man from Småland. Drink, good Sirs! You're right welcome to 't. It's ablessed drink. If only I didn't have wife and children at home! Oh, my, my, my! But that's all one! Oh, I know a lot more, but I know how tokeep it to myself, too. 

Windrank. What do you know?

German. Maybe it's something diverting?

Man from Småland. You see--if you counted all the pines of Småland, Ithink you'd find a whole lot more of them than of oaks. 

German. You think so?

Windrank. I don't like you to talk badly of the King. I don't know whathe is doing or saying, and it isn't my business either, but I know hetakes good care of the shipping trade. Yes, it's he who has put shipson the Spanish trade, and who has made me a skipper, and so I've got nofault to find with him. 

German. He has done it out of sheer deviltry, just to hurt the trade ofLübeck--of Lübeck, to which he owes such a great debt!

Man from Småland. Well, he'll get what he deserves! A steer doesn't losehis horns when you make an ox of him. Many thanks for your company. NowI've got to go. 

German. Oh, no! Just one more noggin--and then we can talk a littlemore. 

Man from Småland. No, thanks, though I'm sure it's good of you, butthat's all I dare take, for otherwise I fear this will end badly. I'vewife and children at home, you see, and now I'm going home--to tell themwe're ruined--no--I don't dare to--I'm much obliged, Mr. German--let'sdrink some more. 

German. That's right! (They drink. )

Man from Småland (emptying his cup and jumping up). Oh, damn the bitterstuff! [Exit, staggering. ]

German (to the Dane). O Lord--when that fellow wakes up!

(The Dane nods assent. The noise has been steadily increasing. Thefiddler is playing. Then the organ begins to play in the church. )

Windrank. It's strange, I think, that the King lets them have adrinkshop in the church wall. 

German. Does it hurt your conscience, skipper? The King doesn't know it, you see. 

Windrank. But they don't go together, the organ music and the singing inhere. I've always been a God-fearing man, ever since I was at home. 

German (ironically). Happy the man brought up in that way! You had amother--

Windrank (moved). Yes--yes!

German. Who tucked you up nights and taught you to say: "Now I lay medown to sleep. "

Windrank. That's it!

German. And a fine woman she was!

Windrank (on whom the drink is beginning to show its effect. ) Oh, if youonly knew!

German. The Lord has heard her prayers. You're weeping. So you must be agood man. 

Dane. Dear me!

German. If your mother could only see you now--with those tears in youreyes!

Windrank. Oh, I know I'm a poor miserable sinner--I know it! But I tellyou--I've got a heart, damn it! Just let a poor wretch come and tell mehe is hungry, and I'll take off my own shirt and give it to him. 

German. How about another drink?

Windrank. No, I don't think so. 

(Several blows are struck on the iron door from the outside, causinggeneral excitement. )

Windrank. God-a-mercy!

German. Don't get scared. That's not the gate of heaven. 

Windrank. I'll never drink another drop--I vow and swear!

German (to the Dane). What a blessed drink gin must be, seeing it canmove a rogue like that to sentimentality--nay, even to thoughts ofsobriety. 

Dane. You're right. There is nothing like it. 

German. It opens the heart wide and closes the head. Which means that itmakes good people of us, for those are called good, you know, who havemuch heart and little head. 

Dane. I'd go still farther. Gin makes us religious. For it kills reason, and reason is the rock that keeps religion from entering our hearts. 

German. Most holy is gin! Strange that--

Dane. You need say no more!

(More blows are struck on the iron door. )

Windrank (who has fallen asleep, is awakened by the blows). Help! I die!

German. What a pity to lose such a sweet soul!

(The door is pushed open so that the table at which Mårten and Nils areseated is upset together with the mugs and cups on it. A woman wearinga red and black skirt, with a nun's veil thrown over her head, comesrunning into the room. For a moment Gert can be seen in the doorwaybehind her, but the door is immediately closed again. )

Harlot (with a startled glance at her surroundings). Save me! The peoplewant to kill me!

A German Mercenary. A harlot under a nun's veil! Ha-ha-ha! (Generallaughter. )

Mårten (making the sign of the cross). A harlot! Who dares to bring herinto this respectable company? Master taverner, take her out of here, orshe'll hurt the good name of the place and the sanctity of the church. 

Harlot. Will nobody here save me? (In the meantime the tavern-keeper hasseized her by the arm to lead her into the street. ) Don't give me intothe hands of that furious mob! I wanted to steal into the Lord's housethat I might share in His grace--I wanted to start a new life--but themonks drove me out and set the people on me--until Father Gert came andsaved me. 

Mårten. You can hear for yourselves. She has polluted the Lord's temple. She wants to hide the garment of shame beneath the veil of sanctity. 

German. And there isn't enough of the veil. 

Mårten (approaching the woman to tear the veil from her face). Off withthe mask, and let your abomination be seen by all! (He draws back whenhe catches sight of her face. )

Harlot. So it's you, Mårten--you murderer!

German. Old chums!

Mårten. That's a shameless lie! I never have seen her before. I amBrother Mårten, of the Dominicans, and Brother Nils here can be mywitness. 

Nils (intoxicated). I can testify--that Brother Mårten has never seenthis woman. 

Harlot. And yet it was you, Nils, who showed me Mårten's letter ofabsolution when I was driven out of the convent and he was permitted tostay. 

Nils. Yes--come to think of it!

Mårten (in a rage, pulling Nils by the sleeve). You're lying--you, too!Can't you see he is drunk?

German. My dear folks, I can testify that the reverend brother is drunk, and that's why he is lying!

Crowd (with signs of disgust). A drunken priest!

German. Well, booze is absolution for lying. Isn't that so, FatherMårten?

Tavern-keeper. Really, I can't let my house be the meeting-place forany kind of disturbance. If this goes on, I'll lose my customers andget hauled before the Chapter. Won't you please take away that miserablecreature who's causing all this noise?

Mårten. Take her out, or I'll have you all banned! Don't you know thatwe are now within the consecrated walls of the church, although theChapter allows this outhouse to be used for the material refreshment oftravellers?

German. Surely this room is holy, good folk, and surely the Lord dothdwell here. 

(The crowd begins to drag the Harlot toward the street door. )

Harlot. Jesus Christ, help me!

[Enter Olof. He appears in the door, and pushes through the crowd untilhe reaches the Harlot, whose hand he takes so that he can pull her awayfrom the drunken men about her. ]

Olof. Answer me--who is this woman?

Mårten. She's no woman. 

Olof. What do you mean?

Mårten. She is no man either, although she's disguised. 

Olof. "She, " you say--and yet not a woman?

Mårten. She's a harlot. 

Olof (shocked, drops the woman's hand). A harlot!

German. Don't let go of her, Master Olof, or she'll run away. 

Olof. Why are you laying hands on her? What is her crime?

German. Going to church. 

Olof. I see! (He looks around. )

Mårten. What are you looking for?

Olof (catching sight of Mårten). A priest!

Mårten. I am a Black Friar. 

Olof. Yes, I guessed that much. So it's you who have incited the peopleagainst her?

Mårten. I am protecting the church from foulness and trying to keep itfree of vice. She is a banned woman, who has been trafficking with herown body, which should be a temple of the Lord. (The woman kneels beforeOlof. )

Olof (taking her by the hand). But I, Dominican, dare to take her handand match her against you. She has sold her body, you say--how manysouls have you bought?--I am also a priest--Nay, I am a man, for Iam not presumptuous enough to put a lock on God's own house, and asa sinful human creature I hold out my hand to my fellow-creature, whocannot be pure either. Let him who is without sin step forward and castthe first stone. --Step forward, Brother Mårten, you angel of light, whohave donned the black garments of innocence and shaved your hair sothat no one may see how you have grown gray in sin! Or have you no stoneready, perhaps? Alas for you, then! What have you done with thoseyou were to hand the people when they were crying for bread? Have youalready given them all away?--Step forward, you highly respectablecitizen. (To Windrank, who is asleep on the floor. ) You, who aresleeping the sleep of a brute, why don't you wake up and fling yourknife at her?--Do you see how he is blushing? Can it be from shame atthe bad company you have brought him into, or from carnal desire? (Thecrowd mutters disapprovingly. ) You are muttering! Is that because youare ashamed of my words or of yourselves? Why don't you cast the stones?Oh, you haven't any. Well, open that door. Summon the people outside andhand this woman over to them. If you don't think fifty men have powerenough to tear her to pieces, you maybe sure that five hundred womenwill avail. Well? You are silent?--Rise up, woman! You have beenacquitted. Go and sin no more. But don't show yourself to the priests, for they will deliver you up to the women!

Mårten (who has tried to interrupt Olof several times, but has been heldback by the German, now displays a document). This man, to whom you havebeen listening, is a heretic, as you may have heard from his talk, and he has also been t excommunicated. Here you can see! Read foryourselves! (He takes one of the candles from the nearest table andthrows it on the floor. ) "As this candle, that we here cast out, isextinguished, so shall be extinguished all his happiness and weal andwhatsoever good may come to him from God!"

Crowd (draws back, making the sign of the cross, so that Olof is leftalone with the Harlot in the middle of the room). Anathema!

Mårten (to the Harlot). There you can hear how much Master Olof'sabsolution avails you. 

Olof (who has been taken aback for a moment). Do you still dare totrust my word, woman? Are you not afraid of me? Can you not hear thelightnings of the ban hissing around our heads? Why don't you jointhese twenty righteous ones who still remain within the refuge of HolyChurch?--Answer me! Do you think the Lord has cast me out as these havedone?

Harlot. No!

Olof (seizing the letter of excommunication). Well, then! The greatbishop of the small city of Linköping has sold my soul to Satan for theterm of my life--for farther than that his power does not reach--and hehas done so because I bade the people seek their Lord when they had beenprohibited from doing so! Here is the contract! As the Church, by thatcontract, has bound me to hell, so I set myself free from it (he tearsthe letter to pieces)--and from the ban of the Church, too! So help meGod! Amen!

Crowd (howling). Anathema!

Mårten. Down with him! At him! He is banned!

Olof (placing himself in front of the Harlot). Do you hear the devilsyelling for their victim?--Dare not to touch me!

Mårten. At him! Down with him!

[Just as one of the mercenaries raises his weapon to strike, theiron door in the rear is flung open, and the Anabaptists, headed byKnipperdollink, come rushing in, uttering wild cries. They carry brokencrucifixes and images of saints as well as torn vestments. All those inthe room before are forced toward the street door. ]

Knipperdollink (as he pushes back the iron door and enters ahead ofthe rest). Come here, folk--here's another sanctum!--What's this? Adrinkshop in the temple!--Look ye! Look ye--the abomination has gone sofar that the tabernacle itself is being polluted. But I will cleanse itwith fire. Set fire to the church and prepare a stake for the saints!

Olof (stepping forward). Consider what you propose to do!

Knipperdollink. Are you afraid that the beer kegs will burst from theheat, you Belial? Are you the popish tapster who thought it not robberyto build vice a chapel in the very wall of the church?

Olof. I am the Secretary of the Court-House, and I command you in thename of the King to keep order!

Knipperdollink. So you are the man whom the King has sent here to makewar on our sacred cause? Onward, onward, ye men of God, and seize himfirst of all! Afterwards we'll cleanse the temple of the Lord fromidolatry. 

Mårten. Go at him, good folk, for he's a heretic and under the ban!

Knipperdollink. A heretic? You are not one of the papists, then?

Olof. Since they have banned me, I can no longer be of the Church. 

Knipperdollink. Then you are on our side? (Olof remains silent. ) Answer:are you with us or against us?

Mårten. He's Olof Pedersson, the man that was sent here by the King. 

Knipperdollink. Are you Olof Pedersson?

Olof. I am. 

Knipperdollink. But a heretic?

Olof. I pride myself on being one. 

Knipperdollink. And yet take service with the King?

Olof. Yes!

(The Anabaptists raise an outcry and surround Olof. )

[Enter Gert quickly through the door in the rear. ]

Gert. Hold! What are you doing?

Knipperdollink. Gert!--Who is this man?

Gert. One of our own. Let him go, friends! Over there you see theemissaries of the Devil!

(He points to Mårten and Nils, who flee through the street door, closelypursued by the Anabaptists. At the door Gert stops and turns towardOlof. The Harlot is crouching in a corner of the room. Windrank is stillsleeping under one of the tables. Olof is standing in the middle of thefloor, sunk in deep thought. )

Gert (exhausted, throws himself on a bench). It's heavy work, Olof. 

Olof. What have you been doing?

Gert. Oh, a little house-cleaning, to begin with. 

Olof. For which you will pay dearly. 

Gert. So far we have the upper hand. The whole city has been roused. Rink is at work in St. George's Chapel. Tell me, has the King sent youto oppose us?

Olof. He has. 

Gert. That was a most sensible thing to do!

Olof. To-morrow I am to preach from the new pulpit. 

Gert. Do you call this fulfilling your royal mission? Here you are, still standing with your arms folded. 

Olof. Come to church to-morrow with your brethren. 

Gert. Is it going to be an archipapal sermon?

Olof. I have been put under the ban to-day. 

Gert (jumps up and puts his arms around Olof). God bless you, Olof! Thatis indeed the baptism of new birth!

Olof. I don't understand you yet. Why do you carry on like wild beasts?You seem to be outraging all that is held sacred. 

Gert (picking up the broken image of a saint). Do you call this fellowholy? A St. Nicolaus, I think. Can it be possible, then, that JesusChrist has come down and lived among us to no purpose, as we are stillworshipping logs of wood? Can this be a god, which I can break topieces? See!

Olof. But he is sacred to the people. 

Gert. So was the golden calf, and so was Zeus; so were Thor and Odin, too. And yet they were struck down. (Catches sight of the Harlot. ) Who'sthat woman? Oh, the one I tried to save by sending her in here. Tell meone thing, Olof. Have you been bought by the King?

Olof. Leave me, Gert! I hate you!

Gert. Who's that pig asleep over there?

Olof. When I face you, I seem to shrink. Leave me! I want to do my ownwork, and not yours. 

Gert. Listen!

Olof. You are trying to confuse my fate with your own. 

Gert. Listen!

Olof. You have surrounded me with an invisible net. You have proclaimedme an Anabaptist. How am I going to face the King?

Gert. Which king?

Olof. King Gustaf!

Gert. Oh, that one!--Well, good-bye, then, Olof. --So you're going topreach to-morrow?--Why doesn't that woman go her way?--Good-bye! [Exit. ]

Olof. Is that man running errands for God or for Satan?

Harlot (approaches Olof and kneels before him). Let me thank you!

Olof. Give thanks for God alone for having saved your soul, and don'tthink that all your sins have been expiated to-day. Try to find strengthto live a life that will always be cursed. God has forgiven you--yourfellow-men will never do so! (He takes her by the hand and leads her tothe street door. )

[Enter Mårten through the doorway in the rear, followed by Olof's Motherand Christine, the daughter of Gert. ]

Mårten. We're in the wrong place, I fear. 

Mother (outraged at seeing Olof and the Harlot together). Olof, Olof!

Christine. Who is that woman? She looks so unhappy. 

Mårten. Let us get away from this den of iniquity!

Olof (turning and running toward the iron door, which is closed in hisface by Mårten). Mother! Mother!

 [He runs out through the other door. ]

 (The stage is darkened. )

SCENE 2

(The Same Room. The door to the church is opened cautiously, and TheSexton, who is also the organ-blower, enters warily. He carries alantern and is followed by his Wife. )

Sexton. Catherine dear, will you hold the lantern a moment while I puton the padlock?

Wife. First we must have a look at all this wretchedness, Bengt dear. Never could I have believed that the public-house was so near to us. It's perfectly dreadful! Look--whole barrels full of beer!

Sexton. And gin, too. Don't you smell it? It will give me a headache ifI stay much longer. 

Wife. Lord have mercy, what a sinful life they must have lived in here!

Sexton. Catherine dear!

Wife. Yes, dear. 

Sexton. Do you know I am not feeling quite well. This place is so dampand cold. 

Wife. Perhaps we had better go home?

Sexton. Oh, I think I must sit down and rest on the bench here. 

Wife. You shouldn't sit down in all this dampness and cold. Let us getback into the church. 

Sexton. No, I think it was still colder out there. 

Wife. You haven't a fever, have you?

Sexton. I almost think I have--I'm so hot. 

Wife. Maybe you want something to drink?

Sexton. That wouldn't be a bad thing, perhaps. 

Wife. I'll see if there is any water around. 

Sexton. Don't think you'll find any in this kind of a hole. 

Wife. But you can't drink beer if you have a fever. 

Sexton. Do you know, I think the fever has passed away. Now I'm feelingcold. 

Wife. I'll see if I can't find some small beer. 

Sexton. It has to be pretty strong, I think, if it's to do any good. There's a keg of Rostock No. 4 over there--marked A. W. , don't you see?

Wife (searching). I can't find it. Here's an Amsterdam No. 3. 

Sexton. Can't you see--up there on the fourth shelf at the right? (Hiswife continues to look. ) The tap is lying to the left of it, right bythe funnel. 

Wife. I don't think it's there. 

Sexton. Just as if I didn't know!

Wife. Yes, here it is. 

(The Sexton gets up to help his wile and accidentally steps onWindrank. )

Windrank (waking up). Mercy! Jesu Christ! St. Peter and St. Paul!Ferdinand and Isabella, and St. George and the Dragon, and all the rest!And ires dire glories in excellence, and deuces tecum vademecum ChristJesu, and birds of a feather, and now I lay me down to sleep, anda child is born for you to keep--Amen! Amen!--Who's stepping on mywindbag?

Sexton (frightened). Will you please tell me whether you are a man or aghost?

Windrank. Man most of the time, but just now I'm a beast. 

Sexton. What kind of a man, if I may ask?

Windrank. A shipman--which is nor reason why you should blow all thewind out of me. 

Sexton. But that's my business, you know--I blow the bellows of the bigorgan. 

Windrank. So it was the organ-blower who honored me--

Sexton. The sexton, to put it right; but I also keep an old-clothes shopin the church wall. 

Windrank. So you're organ-blower, sexton, and shopkeeper--

Sexton. In one person--without confusion or transformation--

Windrank. That's a most respectable trinity. 

Sexton. Such things should not be made fun of!

Windrank. Oh, my, my! I'm drowning! Help!

Sexton. Lord, what is it?

Windrank. There's a whole river coming--Ugh!

Sexton. Catherine dear! Where are you, my angel? (He runs to look forher. ) Jesu, but you must have scared my wife out of her wits. She hasrun away from the keg--and taken the tap along! Get up--up with you, andlet us leave this godless hole!

Windrank. No, my dear fellow, I'm in my element now, so I think I'llstay. 

Sexton. Goodness, the clock is striking twelve, and the ghosts will becoming!

Windrank (jumping to his feet). That's a different story! (The Sextonguides Windrank toward the door. ) Listen, sexton--I'm beginning to havestrong doubts about the trinity. 

Sexton. Well, I declare!

Windrank. It's your trinity I'm thinking of. 

Sexton. What do you mean, master skipper?

Windrank. I think there must be four of you, after all. 

Sexton. Four--of whom?

Windrank. How about the tapster? Shouldn't he be counted, too?

Sexton. Hush, man! That's only nights. 

(Both stumble over the broken image of St. Nicolaus and fall down. )

Windrank. Mercy! Ghosts! Jesu Maria, help!

Sexton (rising and picking up the image). Well, if that isn't enough tomake your hair stand on end! Here's St. Nicolaus broken all to piecesand swimming in the beer. It has come to a fine pass when divinethings are defiled like that--I don't think the world will last muchlonger--when such things can be done in the dry tree--

Windrank (having recovered). In the wet one, you mean. 

Sexton. Keep still, blasphemer! St. Nicolaus is my patron saint. I wasborn on his day. 

Windrank. That's probably why both of you like beer. 

Sexton. Yes, it's in the fashion now to be heretical!

Windrank. It's in the air, I think, for otherwise I'm a most God-fearingman. But never mind, I'll have St. Nicolaus glued together for you. 

Sexton (calling into the church). Catherine!

Windrank. Hush, hush, man! You'll make the ghosts appear!

Sexton. A plague on your tongue! [Exeunt. ]

SCENE 3

(The Sacristy of the Church of St. Nicolaus. There is a door leading tothe church, and another, smaller one, leading to the pulpit. The wallsare hung with chasubles and surplices. Priedieus and a few small chestsare standing about. The sunlight is pouring in through a window. Thechurch bells are heard ringing. Through the wall at the left can beheard a constant murmuring. The Sexton and his Wife enter, stop near thedoor, and pray silently. )

Sexton. That's enough! Now, Catherine dear, you'd better hurry up and dosome dusting. 

Wife. Oh, there's no special occasion. It's nobody but that Master Olofwho's going to preach to-day. Really, I can't see why the Chapter allowsit. 

Sexton. Because he's got permission from the King, you see. 

Wife. Well, well!

Sexton. And then he has had a sort of basket built out from thewall--nothing but new-fangled tricks! It's all on account of that manLuther. 

Wife. I suppose we'll have the same kind of trouble that we hadyesterday. I thought they were going to pull the whole church down. 

Sexton (carrying a glass of water up to the pulpit). I'm sure the poorfellow will need something to wet his whistle to-day. 

Wife. Well, I shouldn't bother, if I were you. 

Sexton (speaking from the pulpit). Catherine--here he comes!

Wife. Goodness gracious, and the sermon bell hasn't rung yet! Well, Isuppose they won't ring it for a fellow like him. 

[Enter Olof, looking serious and solemn. He crosses to one of theprie-dieus and kneels on it. The Sexton comes down from the pulpit andtakes from the wall a surplice which he holds out to Olof. ]

Olof (rising). The peace of the Lord be with you!

[The Wife curtseys and leaves the room. The Sexton holds out thevestment again. ]

Olof. Leave it hanging!

Sexton. Don't you want any robe?

Olof. No. 

Sexton. But it's always used. And the handkerchief?

Olof. Never mind. 

Sexton. Well, I declare!

Olof. Will you please leave me alone, my friend?

Sexton. You want me to get out? But as a rule, I--

Olof. Do me the favor, please!

Sexton. Oh, well! Of course! But first I want to tell you that you'llfind the missal to the right of you as you get up, and I have put ina stick so you'll know where to open it, and there is a glass of waterbeside the book. And you mustn't forget to turn the hour-glass, or itmay chance you'll keep it up a little too long--

Olof. Don't worry! There will be plenty of people to tell me when toquit. 

Sexton. Mercy, yes--beg your pardon! But you see, we've got our owncustoms here. 

Olof. Tell me, what is that depressing murmur we hear?

Sexton. It's some pious brother saying prayers for a poor soul. [Exit. ]

Olof. "Thou therefore gird up thy loins and arise, and speak unto themall that I command thee. "--God help me! (He drops on his knees at aprie-dieu; there he finds a note, which he reads. ) "Don't preach to-day;your life is in danger. "--The Tempter himself wrote that! (He tears thenote to pieces. )

[Enter Olof's Mother. ]

Mother. You are straying from the right path, my son. 

Olof. Who knows?

Mother. I know! But as your mother I reach out my hand to you. Turnback!

Olof. Where would you lead me?

Mother. To godliness and virtue. 

Olof. If godliness and virtue are vested in papal decrees, then I fearit is too late. 

Mother. It isn't only a question of what you teach, but of how you live. 

Olof. I know you are thinking of my company last night, but I am tooproud to answer you. Nor do I think it would do any good. 

Mother. Oh, that I should be thus rewarded for the sacrifice I made whenI let you go out into the world and study!

Olof. By heaven, your sacrifice shall not be wasted! It is you, mother, I have to thank for this day when at last I can stand forth with a freecountenance and speak the words of truth. 

Mother. How can _you_ talk of truth, you who have made yourself aprophet of lies?

Olof. Those are hard words, mother!

Mother. Or perhaps I and my forbears have lived and worshipped and diedin a lie?

Olof. It wasn't a lie, but it has become one. When you were young, mother, you were right, and when I grow old--well, perhaps I may findmyself in the wrong. One cannot keep apace with the times. 

Mother. I don't understand!

Olof. This is my one sorrow--the greatest one of my life: that all Ido and say with the purest purpose must appear to you a crime andsacrilege. 

Mother. I know what you mean to do, Olof--I know what error you havefallen into--and I cannot hope to persuade you out of it, for you knowso much more than I do, and I am sure that the Lord will put you on theright path again--but I ask you to take care of your own life, so thatyou won't plunge headlong into perdition! Don't risk your life!

Olof. What do you mean? They won't kill me in the pulpit, will they?

Mother. Haven't you heard that Bishop Brask wants the Pope to introducethe law that sends all heretics to the stake?

Olof. The inquisition?

Mother. Yes, that's what they call it. 

Olof. Leave me, mother! To-day I must stand up and preach. 

Mother. You shall not do it. 

Olof. Nothing can prevent me. 

Mother. I have prayed to God that He would touch your heart--I'll tellyou, but you mustn't speak of it to anybody. I am weak with age, and Icouldn't trust my own knees, so I went to see a servant of the Lord andasked him, who is nearer to God, to say some prayers for your soul. Herefused because you are under the ban. Oh, it's dreadful! May theLord forgive me my sin! I bribed the pure conscience of that man withgold--with the Devil's own gold--just to save you!

Olof. Mother, what do I hear? It can't be possible!

Mother (takes Olof by the hand and leads him over to the left, close tothe wall). Listen! Do you hear? He is praying for you now in the chapelnext to this room. 

Olof. So that was the murmur I heard! Who is he?

Mother. You know him--Brother Mårten, of the Dominicans--

Olof. You get Satan to say prayers for me!--Forgive me, mother--I thankyou for your good intention, but--

Mother (on her knees, weeping). Olof! Olof!

Olof. Don't ask me! A mother's plea might tempt the angels of heaven torecant!--Now the hymn is ended: I must go! The people are waiting. 

Mother. You'll send me into my grave, Olof!

Olof (passionately). The Lord will resurrect you! (Kissing her hand. )Don't talk to me any more--I don't know what I am saying!

Mother. Listen! Listen! The people are muttering!

Olof. I'm coming! I'm coming! He who protected Daniel in the lions' denwill also protect me!

(Olof ascends the stairs leading to the pulpit. Throughout the ensuingscenes a man's voice can be heard speaking with great power, but nowords can be distinguished. After a while mutterings are heard, whichchange into loud cries. )

[Enter Christine. ]

Christine. Mother, did you see him?

Mother. Are you here, child? I asked you to stay at home!

Christine. Why shouldn't I visit the house of the Lord? There issomething you hide from me!

Mother. Go home, Christine!

Christine. May I not hear Olof preach? It's the word of God, isn't it, mother? (The Mother remains silent. ) You don't answer? What does itmean? Hasn't Olof permission to preach? Why do the people out there lookso mysterious? They were muttering when I came. 

Mother. Don't ask me! Go home and thank God for your ignorance!

Christine. Am I a child, then, since nobody dares to tell me--

Mother. Your soul is still pure, and nobody must defile it. What placeis there for you in the battle?

Christine. Battle? I thought so!

Mother. Yes, here the battle rages, and so you must get out of the way. You know our lot when the men go to war. 

Christine. But let me first know what it is all about. Not to knowanything at all makes me so unhappy. I see nothing but a dreadfuldarkness, and shadows that are moving about--Give me light, so that Imay see clearly! Perhaps I know these ghostly shallows?

Mother. You will shudder when you see who they are. 

Christine. It is better to shudder than to be tormented by this horriblecalm. 

Mother. Don't pray for the cloud to flash forth lightning: it maydestroy you!

Christine. You frighten me! But tell me the truth--I must know--or Ishall ask some one else. 

Mother. Are you firm in your decision to withdraw within the sacredwalls of the convent?

Christine. My father wishes it. 

Mother. You hesitate? (Christine does not answer. ) There is some tiethat holds you back. 

Christine. You know?

Mother. I know, and tell you to break it!

Christine. It will soon be impossible. 

Mother. I will save you, child, for you can still be saved. I will offerthe Lord the greatest sacrifice of all if a single soul can be savedfrom perdition--my son!

Christine. Olof?

Mother. He's lost, I tell you, and I, his mother, have to tell you so!

Christine. Lost?

Mother. He is a prophet of lies. The Devil has taken possession of hissoul. 

Christine (passionately). It isn't true!

Mother. God grant that you are right!

Christine. Why--why haven't you told me this before?--But, of course, it's a lie! (She goes to the door leading into the church and pushesit ajar. ) Look at him, mother--there he is! Can that be an evil spiritspeaking out of his mouth? Can that be a hellish flame burning inhis eyes? Can lies be told with trembling lips? Does darkness shedlight--can't you see the halo about his head? You are wrong! I feelit within me! I don't know what he preaches--I don't know what hedenies--but he is right! He is right, and the Lord is with him!

Mother. You don't know the world, my child. You don't know the tricks ofthe Devil. Beware! (She pulls Christine away from the door. ) You mustn'tlisten to him. There is no strength in your soul, and he's the apostleof Antichrist!

Christine. Who is Antichrist?

Mother. He is a Luther!

Christine. You have never told me who Luther is, but if Olof is hisapostle, then Luther must be a great man. 

Mother. Luther is possessed of the Devil!

Christine. Why didn't you tell me before? Now I can't believe you!

Mother. I am telling you now--Alas, I wanted to save you from theworld's wickedness, and so I kept you in ignorance--

Christine. I don't believe you! Let me go! I must see him--I must listento him--for he doesn't talk like the rest. 

Mother. Jesus, my Saviour! Are you, too, possessed by the uncleanspirit?

Christine (at the door). "Bind not the souls, " he said--did you hear?"You are free, for the Lord has set you free. " See how the peopleshudder at his words--now they rise up--they mutter. "You want nofreedom--woe unto you! For that is the sin against the Holy Ghost!"

[Enter Sexton. ]

Sexton. I don't think it's well for you to stay here any longer, my goodladies. The people are getting restless. This will never end well forMaster Olof. 

Mother. Jesu Maria! What are you saying?

Christine. Fear not! The spirit of the Lord is with him!

Sexton. Well, I don't know about that, but he's a wonder at preaching. Old sinner that I am, I couldn't keep from crying where I was sitting inthe organ-loft. I don't understand how it can be possible for a hereticand an Antichrist to talk like that. That man Luther, I must say, I--(Cries are heard from the church. ) There, there! Now somethingdreadful is going to happen again! And to think that the King should begone just now!

Mother. Let us get away from here. If the Lord is with him, they cando him no harm. If it be the Devil--then Thy will be done, O Lord--butforgive him!

(Cries are heard outside. Exeunt the Mother, Christine, and the Sexton. For a few moments the stage stands empty and Olof's voice is heard moreclearly than before. It is interrupted by cries and the rattling ofstones thrown at the pulpit. Christine returns alone, locks the door onthe inside, and falls on her knees at a prie-dieu. A number of violentblows are directed against the door from without, while the tumult inthe church continues to increase. Then silence is restored, as Olofdescends from the pulpit. His forehead is bleeding and he wears ahaggard look. )

Olof (dropping into a chair without perceiving Christine). In vain! Theywill not! I take the fetters from the prisoner, and he hits me. I tellhim he is free, and he doesn't believe me. Is that word "free" so big, then, that it can't be contained in a human brain? Oh, that I had one atleast who believed--but to be alone--a fool whom no one understands--

Christine (coming forward). I believe in you, Olof!

Olof. Christine!

Christine. _You_ are right!

Olof. How do you know?

Christine. I can't tell, but I believe it. I have been listening to you. 

Olof. And you do not curse me?

Christine. You are preaching the word of God, are you not?

Olof. I am!

Christine. Why have we not been told these things before? Or why havethey been told us in a language that we do not understand?

Olof. Who has put those words into your mouth, girl?

Christine. Who? I haven't thought of asking. 

Olof. Your father?

Christine. He wants me to enter a convent. 

Olof. Has it come to that? And what is your own wish?

Christine (catching sight of Olof's bleeding forehead). They have hurtyou, Olof! For heaven's sake, let me help you!

Olof (sitting down again). Have I unsettled your faith, Christine?

Christine (takes the handkerchief, tears it into strips, and beginsto dress Olof's wounds while speaking). My faith? I don't understandyou. --Tell me, who is Luther?

Olof. I mustn't tell you. 

Christine. Always the same answer! From my father, from your mother, andfrom yourself. Are you timid about telling me the truth, or is the truthreally dangerous?

Olof. Truth is dangerous. Can't you see? (He points to his forehead. )

Christine. So you want me to be shut up in a convent cell to live alifeless life in ignorance? (Olof does not reply. ) You want me to weepaway my life and my youth, and to keep on saying those endlessly longprayers until my soul is put to sleep? No--I won't do it, for now I amawake. All around me they are fighting, and suffering, and despairing. I have seen it, but I was to have no share in it. I was not even to lookon, or to know the purpose of the fighting. You wanted me to be sunk inbestial slumber. But don't you believe me possessed of a soul, then--asoul that cannot be satisfied by bread or by dry prayers put into mymouth by others? "Bind not the spirits, " you said. Oh, if you could onlyknow how that word pierced me! Daylight came, and those wild cries outthere sounded like the singing of birds in the morning--

Olof. You are a woman, Christine, and not born to fight!

Christine. But in the name of God, let me suffer, then! Only not beasleep! Don't you see that the Lord has awakened me in spite of all? Youhave never dared to tell me who Antichrist was. You have never daredto tell me who Luther was, and when your mother called you a Luther, Iblessed Luther. If he be a heretic or a believer, I don't know, andI don't care; for no one--whether it be Luther, or the Pope, orAntichrist-can satisfy my immortal soul when I have no faith in theeternal God. 

Olof. Will you follow me into the battle, Christine? For you can sustainme, and you only!

Christine. Now I am able to answer you with a frank "yes, " for I knowmy own will--and I can do so without asking father first, for I am free. Oh, I am free!

Olof. And do you know what is in store for you?

Christine. I know! You will not have to shatter my mocking dreams--theyare already gone. But you may be sure that I, too, have been dreaming ofa knight who was to lay a kingdom at my feet and talk to me of flowersand love--Olof, I want to be your wife! Here is my hand! But this muchI must tell you: that you never have been the knight of my dreams, andthat I thank God he never came. For then he had also gone--as a dream. 

Olof. Christine, you want to be mine--and I will make you happy. Forwhen I suffered sorrow and temptation, you were always in my mind--andnow you shall be at my side! You were the maiden of my dreams, keptcaptive in a tower by the stern castellan--and now you are mine!

Christine. Beware of dreams, Olof!

(Blows are heard on the door from outside. )

Olof. Who is that?

Voice (outside). Gert. 

Olof. What will he say? My promise--

Christine. Are you afraid? Shall I open?

(Olof opens the door. )

[Enter Gert. ]

Gert (starting at the sight of his daughter and Olof). Christine?--Youhave broken your promise, Olof!

Olof. I have not. 

Gert. You lie! You have stolen my child, my one solace. 

Christine. Olof is not lying. 

Gert. You have been to church, Christine?

Christine. I have heard what you didn't want me to hear. 

Gert. O Lord, this only joy Thou hast begrudged me!

Olof. The stream that you wanted to set free takes its victims where itcan. 

Gert. You have robbed me of her, of my child!

Olof. Give her to me, Father Gert!

Gert. Never!

Olof. Is she not free?

Gert. She is my child. 

Olof. Are you not preaching freedom? She is mine! The Lord has given herto me, and you cannot take her away. 

Gert. You are--thank God--a priest. 

Olof and Christine. A priest!

Gert. And as such you cannot marry. 

Olof. And if I do?

Gert. You would dare?

Olof. I would. 

Gert. Do you want a man who is under the ban, Christine?

Christine. I don't know what that means. 

Olof. There you see, Gert, there you see!

Gert. Thy punishment is harsh, O Lord!

Olof. The truth is for all. 

Gert. Your love is greater than mine, which was nothing but selfishness. God bless you! Now I stand alone! (He embraces them. ) There, now! Gohome, Christine, and set their minds at rest. I want to speak to Olof. (Exit Christine. ) Now you belong to me. 

Olof. What do you mean?

Gert. Kinsman!--You got my letter?

Olof. It was you who advised me not to preach?

Gert. Quite the contrary, although I expressed myself somewhatstrangely. 

Olof. I don't understand. 

Gert. No--no! You are still too young, and so you need a providence. Toa man like you one says "Let be" when one wants him to do something. 

Olof. Why were you and your followers not in church?

Gert. None but the sick need doctors. We were busy elsewhere. You havedone a good piece of work to-day, and I see that you have got yourreward for it. I have set you free to-day, Olof. 

Olof. _You_ have?

Gert. The King commanded you to quiet the rebellious, and what have youbeen doing?

Olof. Now I begin to understand you, Father Gert. 

Gert. I am delighted! Yes, you have aroused even the calmest. 

Olof. So I have. 

Gert. What do you think the King will say to that?

Olof. I shall have to face it. 

Gert. Good!

Olof. The King will approve my actions, for he wants a reformation, although he does not yet dare to start one himself. 

Gert. You idiot!

Olof. I see that you want to set me against my lawful sovereign. 

Gert. Tell me, how many masters do you think you can serve? (Olof makesno reply. ) The King is here. 

Olof. What do you say?

Gert. The King has just returned. 

Olof. And the Anabaptists?

Gert. Locked up, of course. 

Olof. And you stand here so calmly?

Gert. I am old now. Once I used to rage like you, but it only tired meout. Rink and Knipperdollink have served as my outposts. They had tofall, that's plain; now my work begins. 

(Drum-beats are heard from the street. )

Olof. What is that?

Gert. The royal drums that keep the captives company to prison. Comehere and see!

Olof (mounting one of the benches and looking out of the window). Whatdo I see? Women and children are dragged along by the soldiers!

Gert. Well, they have been throwing stones at the King's guard. Do youthink such things can be allowed?

Olof. But are madmen and sick people to be put into prison?

Gert. There are two kinds of madmen. One kind is sent to the hospitaland treated with pills and cold baths. Those of the other kind havetheir heads cut off. It is a radical treatment, but then, for a fact, they are rather dangerous. 

Olof. I'll go to the King. He cannot wish such dreadful things tohappen. 

Gert. Take care of your head, Olof!

Olof. Take care of your own, Father Gert!

Gert. No danger in my case, for I have a warrant for the asylum. 

Olof. I cannot bear to see these things. I am going to the King, even ifit cost my life. (He goes toward the door. )

Gert. This is a matter not to be settled by the King. You should appealto the law. 

Olof. The King is the law!

Gert. Unfortunately!--If the horse knew his own strength, he would neverbe mad enough, as he is now, to bear the yoke. But when once in a whilehe gets his reason back and runs away from his oppressors, then theycall him mad--Let us pray the Lord to give these poor creatures theirreason back!

ACT III

SCENE 1

(A Hall in the Royal Palace at Stockholm. In the background is a gallerywhich can be partitioned off by curtains. In elderly servant of thepalace is pacing back and forth in the gallery. )

Enter Olof. 

Olof. Is the King receiving to-day?

Servant. Yes. 

Olof. Can you tell me why I have been kept waiting here in vain fourdays at a stretch?

Servant. No, heavens, I know nothing at all. 

Olof. It seems strange that I have not been admitted. 

Servant. What is it about?

Olof. That's none of your concern!

Servant. Of course not! I understand that, but I thought I might be ableto give some information, perhaps. 

Olof. Have you charge of the King's audiences?

Servant. Oh, heavens, no! But you see, when a man hears as much as I do, he knows a little of everything. (Pause. )

Olof. Do you think I shall have to wait long? (The servant pretends notto hear. ) Do you know if the King is coming soon?

Servant (with his back turned to Olof). What?

Olof. Do you know to whom you are talking?

Servant. No, I don't. 

Olof. I am the King's Secretary. 

Servant. Oh, mercy, are you Master Olof? I knew your father, Peter theSmith, for I am also from Örebro. 

Olof. Well, can't you be civil in spite of that?

Servant. Well, well! That's what happens when one gets on a little inthis world--then one's humble parents are forgotten. 

Olof. It is possible that my father actually honored you with hisacquaintance, but I doubt that he put you in a parent's place to me whenhe died. 

Servant. Well, well! I declare! It must be hard on Dame Christine! [Exitto the left. ]

[Olof is left alone for a while. Then Lars Siggesson, the Lord HighConstable, enters from the right. ]

Constable (throwing his cloak to Olof without looking at him). Will theKing be here soon?

Olof (catching the cloak and throwing it on the floor). I do not know!

Constable. Bring me a chair. 

Olof. That's not my office. 

Constable. I am not familiar with the instructions of the doorkeeper. 

Olof. I am no doorkeeper!

Constable. I don't care what you are, and I don't carry with me a listof the menials, but you will have to be civil! (Olof remains silent. )Well, what about it? I think the Devil has got into you!

Olof. Pardon me, but it is no part of my duty as secretary to wait onanybody. 

Constable. What? Oh, Master Olof! Why, first you sit at the door playinglackey, and then you drop the mask and step forth as the Lord Himself!And I took you to be a proud man. (He picks up his cloak and places iton a bench. )

Olof. My Lord Constable!

Constable. But, no, you are only a vain upstart! Please step forward andbe seated, Mr. Secretary. 

[He points Olof to a seat and goes out into one of the side-rooms. ]

[Olof sits down. A young Courtier enters through the gallery and salutesOlof. ]

Courtier. Good morning, Secretary! Is nobody here yet? Well, how iseverything in Stockholm? I have just arrived from Malmö. 

Olof. Oh, everything is going wrong here. 

Courtier. So I have heard. The mob has been muttering as usual wheneverthe King's back is turned. And then there are those fool priests!--I begyour pardon, Secretary, but, of course, you are a freethinker?

Olof. I don't quite understand. 

Courtier. Don't mind me, please. You see, I have been educated in Paris. Francis the First--O Saint-Sauveur!--that's a man who has extreme views. Do you know what he told me at a bal masqué during the last carnival?(Olof remains silent. ) "Monsieur, " he said, "la religion est morte, estmorte, " he said. Which didn't keep him from attending mass. 

Olof. Is that so?

Courtier. Do you know what he replied when I asked him why he didso?--"Poetry! Poetry!" he said. Oh, he is divine!

Olof. What did you answer?

Courtier. "Your Majesty, " I said--in French, of course--"fortunate theland that has a king who can look so far beyond the narrow horizonof his own time that he perceives what the spirit of the age demands, without trying to urge the masses to embrace that higher view of lifefor which they will not be ready for many centuries to come!" Wasn'tthat pretty clever?

Olof. Oh, yes, but I think it must have lost a great deal in beingtranslated. Things of that kind should be spoken in French. 

Courtier (preoccupied). You are quite right. --Tell me--your _fortune_ought to be assured--you are so far in advance of your time?

Olof. I fear I shall not get very far. My education was neglected, unfortunately--I studied in Germany, as you may know--and the Germansare not beyond religion yet. 

Courtier. Indeed, indeed! Can you tell me why they are making such ahubbub about that Reformation down there in Germany? Luther is a man ofenlightenment--I know it--I believe it--but why shouldn't he keep it tohimself, or at least not waste any sparks of light on the brutish herdto which they can be nothing but so many pearls thrown to the swine. If you let your eye survey the time we are living in--if you make someeffort to follow the great currents of thought--then you will easilyperceive the cause of that disturbed equilibrium which is now makingitself felt in all the great civilized countries; I am not talking ofSweden, of course, which is not a civilized country. Can you namethe centre of gravity--that centre which cannot be disturbed withouteverything going to pieces--the instability of which tends to upseteverything? The name of it is--the nobility. The nobility is thethinking principle. The feudal system is falling--and that means theworld. Erudition is in decay. Civilization is dying. Yes, indeed--Youdon't believe that? But if you have any historical outlook at all, youcan see that it is so. The nobility started the Crusades. The nobilityhas done this and that and everything. Why is Germany being torn topieces? Because the peasantry has risen against the nobility, thuscutting off its own head. Why is France safe--la France? Because Franceis one with the nobility, and the nobility is one with France--becausethose two ideas are identical, inseparable. And why, I ask again, isSweden at present shaken to its nethermost foundations? Because thenobility has been crushed. Christian the Second was a man of genius. Heknew how to conquer a country. He didn't cut off a leg or an arm--nay, he cut off the head. Well, then! Sweden must be saved, and the Kingknows how. The nobility is to be restored, and the Church is to becrushed. What do you say to that?

Olof (rising). Nothing! (Pause. ) You are a freethinker?

Courtier. Of course!

Olof. You don't believe, then, that Balaam's ass could talk?

Courtier. Gracious, no!

Olof. But I do. 

Courtier. Really?

[Enter Lars Andersson. ]

Lars Andersson. The peace of the Lord be with you, Olof. 

Olof (embracing him). Well met, Lars!

Courtier. Populace! [Exit. ]

Lars. Well, how do you like living here?

Olof. It's so close!

Lars. Somewhat!

Olof. And no room overhead. 

Lars. That's why they find it so hard to keep their backs straight. 

Olof. In ten minutes I have become so much of a courtier that I know howto be silent when an ass is talking. 

Lars. There is no harm in that. 

Olof. What does the King think?

Lars. He doesn't tell. 

(A number of people have begun to gather in the hall. )

Olof. How does he look?

Lars. Like an interrogation point followed by several exclamation marks. 

[Enter Bishop Brask. All give way before him. The Lord High Constable, who has returned in the meantime, goes to meet him and exchangesgreetings with him. Olof salutes the Bishop, who looks surprised. ]

Brask (to the Constable). Is this a place for the clerks?

Constable. It ought not to be, but our King is so very gracious. 

Brask. Condescending, you mean?

Constable. Exactly. 

Brask. The audience is well attended to-day. 

Constable. Mostly formal calls occasioned by the happy return of HisHighness. 

Brask. It is a pleasure, my Lord Constable, to offer His Highness oursincere felicitations on the happy solution of this question. 

Constable. It is indeed courteous in Your Grace to incur the trouble ofsuch a long journey--especially at Your Grace's advanced age. 

Brask. Unfortunately, my health is not always to be depended upon. 

Constable. Is Your Grace not enjoying good health? It is hard to feelone's strength failing, particularly for one who occupies such anexalted and responsible position. 

Brask. You look very well, my Lord Constable. 

Constable. Yes, thank God! (Pause. )

Brask (seating himself). Don't you think there is a draught here, myLord?

Constable. It seems so. Perhaps we might order the doors to be closed?

Brask. No, thank you, that will not be necessary. (Pause. )

Constable. The King is long in coming. 

Brask. Yes. 

Constable. Perhaps you won't find it worth your while to wait for him. 

Brask. Perhaps not!

Constable. With your permission, I will send word to Your Grace'sservants. 

Brask. As I have waited so long, I think I shall wait a little longer. (Pause. )

Servant. His Highness!

[Enter Gustaf. ]

Gustaf. I bid you welcome, gentlemen. (He takes a seat at a table. ) Ifyou will please step out into the antechamber, I will receive you one ata time. (All retire except Bishop Brask. ) Our Lord Constable will stay. 

Brask. Your Highness!

Gustaf (raising his voice). Sir Lars! (Brask goes out, the Constableremaining; pause. ) Speak! What am I to do?

Constable. Your Highness, the State has lost its prop, and therefore itis toppling over; the State has an enemy that has grown too strong forit. Restore the prop, which is the nobility, and crush the enemy, whichis the Church!

Gustaf. I dare not!

Constable. You must, Your Highness!

Gustaf. What's that?

Constable. First of all: Brask is in correspondence with the Popeto have the inquisition established here. Lübeck is insisting on hershameless demands and threatens war. The treasury is empty. There isrebellion in every nook and corner of the country--

Gustaf. That's enough! But I have the people with me. 

Constable. I beg your pardon--you have not. There are the Dalecarlians, for instance--a spoiled lot, always disputing with those of Lübeck aboutthe honor of having bestowed a king on Sweden. They are ready to rebelon the slightest occasion, and they are coming forward with demands likethese: "There shall be no outlandish customs used, with slittered andmotley colored clothes, such as have of late been brought into theKing's court. "

Gustaf. 'Sdeath!

Constable. "Whosoever eats meat on Fridays or Saturdays shall be burnedat the stake or otherwise made away with. " And furthermore, "Thereshall be no new faith or Lutheran teachings foisted upon us. " What atreacherous, impudent people!

Gustaf. And yet there was a time when they showed themselves to be men. 

Constable. Well, what wonder if they carried water when their house wasafire? How many times have they broken troth and faith? But they haveso often heard themselves lauded that they have come to give the name of"old Swedish honesty" to their own brute arrogance. 

Gustaf. You belong to the nobility!

Constable. Yes, and it is my conviction that the peasant has played outhis part--the part of a crude force needed to drive away the enemyby sheer strength of arm. Crush the Church, Your Highness, for it iskeeping the people in fetters. Seize the gold of the Church and pay thecountry's debt--and give back to the reduced nobility what the Churchhas obtained from it by dupery. 

Gustaf. Call in Brask. 

Constable. Your Highness!

Gustaf. Call Bishop Brask! [Exit the Constable. ]

[Enter Bishop Brask. ]

Gustaf. Speak, Your Grace!

Brask. I wish to offer our congratulations on--

Gustaf. I thank Your Grace! And what more?

Brask. There have been complaints from several districts, I am sorryto say, about unpaid loans of silver exacted from the churches by YourHighness. 

Gustaf. Which you now are trying to recover. Are all the chalicesactually needed for communion?

Brask. They are. 

Gustaf Let them use pewter mugs, then. 

Brask. Your Highness!

Gustaf. Anything more?

Brask. What is worse than anything else--all this heresy!

Gustaf. No concern of mine! I am not the Pope. 

Brask. I have to warn Your Highness that the Church must look out forher own rights, even if doing so should bring her into conflict--

Gustaf. With whom?

Brask. With the State. 

Gustaf. Your Church can go to the devil! There, I have said it!

Brask. I knew it. 

Gustaf. And you were only waiting for me to say so?

Brask. Exactly. 

Gustaf. Take care! You travel with a following of two hundred men, andyou eat from silver, when the people are living on bark. 

Brask. Your Highness takes too narrow a view of the matter. 

Gustaf. Have you heard of Luther? You are a well-informed man. What kindof a phenomenon is he? What have you to say of the movements that arenow spreading throughout Europe?

Brask. Progress backward! Luther is merely destined to serve as apurging fire for what is ancient, descended from untold ages and welltried, so that it may be cleansed and by the struggle urged on togreater victories. 

Gustaf. I care nothing for your learned arguments. 

Brask. But Your Highness is extending protection to criminals andinterfering with the privileges of the Church; for the Church has beengrievously wronged by Master Olof. 

Gustaf. Well, put him under the ban. 

Brask. It has been done, and yet he remains in the service of YourHighness. 

Gustaf. What more do you want done to him? Tell me? (Pause. )

Brask. Furthermore, he has gone so far as to marry secretly in violationof the Canon Law. 

Gustaf. Is that so? That's quick action. 

Brask. It doesn't concern Your Highness? Good and well! But if he stirsup the people?

Gustaf. Then I'll step in. Anything more?

Brask (after a pause). I ask you for heaven's sake not to plunge thecountry into disaster again. It is not yet ripe for a new faith. We arebut reeds in the wind and can be bent--but when it comes to the faith, or the Church--never!

Gustaf (holding out his hand to the Bishop). Maybe you are right! Butlet us be enemies rather than false friends, Bishop Hans!

Brask. Be it so! But do not do what you will regret. Every stone youtear out of the Church will be thrown at you by the people. 

Gustaf. Don't force me to extremes, Your Grace, for then we shall havethe same horrible spectacle here as in Germany. For the last time: areyou willing to make concessions if the welfare of the country is atstake?

Brask. The Church--

Gustaf. The Church comes first--very well! Good-bye!

[Exit Brask. Reënter the Constable. ]

Gustaf. The Bishop has confirmed your statement, and that was what Iwanted him to do. Now we shall need stone-masons who know how to teardown. The walls will be left, the cross may stay on the roof and thebell in the tower, but I will clear out the vaults. One must begin atthe bottom!

Constable. The people will think you are taking away their faith. Theywill have to be educated. 

Gustaf. We'll send Master Olof to preach to them. 

Constable. Master Olof is a dangerous man. 

Gustaf. But needed just now. 

Constable. He has carried on like the Anabaptists instead of opposingthem. 

Gustaf. I know. We'll get to that later on. Send him in. 

Constable. Lars the Chancellor would be a better man. 

Gustaf. Bring them both in. 

Constable. Or Olof's brother, Lars Pedersson. 

Gustaf. No good yet. He is too soft for fighting, but his time willcome, too. [Exit Constable. ]

The Constable returns with Master Olof and Lars Andersson. 

Gustaf (to the Chancellor). Do you want to help me, Lars?

Lars. You are thinking of the Church?

Gustaf. Yes, it will have to be torn down. 

Lars. I am not the man for that. Your Majesty had better ask MasterOlof. 

Gustaf. You won't, then?

Lars. I can't! But I have a weapon for you. (He hands the newtranslation of the Bible to the King. )

Gustaf. Holy Writ! A good weapon, indeed! Will you wield it, Olof?

Olof. With the help of God--yes!

Gustaf (to Olof, after having signalled to Lars to leave). Have youcalmed down yet, Olof? (Olof does not answer). I gave you four days tothink it over. How have you been carrying out your task?

Olof (impetuously). I have spoken to the people--

Gustaf. Still in a fever! And you mean to defend those madmen namedAnabaptists?

Olof (bravely). I do!

Gustaf. Steady!--You have married in a hurry?

Olof. I have. 

Gustaf. You are under the ban?

Olof. I am. 

Gustaf. And still as brave as ever! If you were sent to the gallows as arebel with the rest, what would you say then?

Olof. I should regret not being permitted to finish my task, but Ishould thank the Lord for having been allowed to do what I have done. 

Gustaf. That's good! Would you dare to go up to that old owl's-nestUpsala and tell its learned men that the Pope is not God and that he hasnothing to do with Sweden?

Olof. Only that?

Gustaf. Will you tell them that the only word of God is the Bible?

Olof. Must that be all?

Gustaf. You are not to mention the name of Luther!

Olof (after some hesitation). Then I will not go. 

Gustaf. Would you rather go to your death?

Olof. No, but I know that my sovereign needs me. 

Gustaf. It isn't noble to take advantage of my misfortune, Olof. Well, say anything; you please, but you will have to pardon me if I take backa part of it afterwards. 

Olof. Truth isn't sold by the yard. 

Gustaf. 'Sdeath! (Changing tone. ) Well, suit yourself!

Olof (kneeling). Then I may say all that is in my mind?

Gustaf. You may. 

Olof. Then, if I can only throw a single spark of doubt into the soul ofthis sleeping people, my life will not have been wasted. --It is to be areformation, then?

Gustaf (after a pause). Yes. (Pause. )

Olof (timidly). And what is to become of the Anabaptists?

Gustaf. Need you ask? They must die. 

Olof. Will Your Highness permit me one more question?

Gustaf. Tell me: what do those madmen want?

Olof. The sad thing is that they do not know it themselves, and if Iwere to tell you--

Gustaf. Speak out!

[Gert enters quickly, pretending to be insane. ]

Gustaf. Who are you to dare intrude here?

Gert. I want most humbly to beseech Your Highness to attest thecorrectness of this document. 

Gustaf. Wait till you are called. 

Gert. Of course, I should like to, but the guards won't wait for me. Iescaped from prison, you see, because my place wasn't there. 

Gustaf. Are you one of those Anabaptists?

Gert. Yes, I happened to get mixed up with them, but here I have acertificate proving that I belong to the asylum, the third departmentfor incurables, cell number seven. 

Gustaf (to Olof). Send word to the guard. 

Gert. That isn't necessary, for I want nothing but justice, and it'ssomething the guard doesn't handle. 

Gustaf (looking hard at Gert). I suppose you have had a share in thoseoutrages in the city churches?

Gert. Of course, I have! No sane person could behave so madly. We wantedonly to make a few minor alterations in the style. They seemed too lowin the ceiling. 

Gustaf. What do you really want?

Gert. Oh, we want a great deal, although we haven't got through withone-half of it yet. Yes, we want so many things and we want them soquickly, that our reason cannot keep pace with them, and that's why ithas been lagging behind a little. Yes, we wish among other things tochange the furnishings a little in the churches, and to remove thewindows because the air seems so musty. Yes, and there is a lot more wewant, but that will have to wait for a while. 

Gustaf (to Olof). That's a perilous disease--for anything else it cannotbe. 

Olof. Who knows?

Gustaf. Now I am tired. You'll have a fortnight in which to get ready. Your hand that you will help me!

Olof. I will do my part. 

Gustaf. Give orders to have Rink and Knipperdollink sent to Malmö. 

Olof. And then?

Gustaf. They'll have a chance to escape. That fool over there you cansend back to the asylum. Farewell! [Exit. ]

Gert (shaking his clenched fist after Gustaf). Well, are we going?

Olof. Where?

Gert. Home. (Olof remains silent. ) You don't wish to send yourfather-in-law to the madhouse, do you, Olof?

Olof. You ask me what I wish--How about my duty?

Gert. Is there no duty above the royal command?

Olof. Are you beginning again?

Gert. What will Christine say if you put her father among madmen?

Olof. Tempt me not!

Gert. Do you see how difficult it is to serve the King? (Olof does notanswer. ) I won't make you unhappy, my poor boy. Here's balm for yourconscience. (He takes out a document. )

Olof. What is it?

Gert. A certificate of health. You see, it is necessary to be a madmanamong sane people, and sane among mad men. 

Olof. How did you get it?

Gert. Don't you think I deserve it?

Olof. I can't tell. 

Gert. True enough: you don't yet dare. 

[Enter Servant. ]

Servant. Will you please go your way. They 're about to sweep. 

Gert. Perhaps the place has to be aired, too?

Servant. Yes, indeed!

Gert. Don't forget to open the windows. 

Servant. No, you may be sure, and it's needed, too, for we are notaccustomed to this kind of company. 

Gert. Look here, old man--I carry a greeting from your father. 

Servant. Oh, you do?

Gert. Perhaps you never knew him?

Servant. Why, certainly!

Gert. Do you know what he said?

Servant. No. 

Gert. Wet the broom, he said, or you'll get the dust all over yourself. 

Servant. I don't understand. 

Gert. Well, that's your only excuse. 

[Exeunt Gert and Olof. ]

Servant. Rabble!

SCENE 2

(Olof's Study. There are windows in the background, through which thesun is shining into the room. Trees are visible outside. Christine isstanding at one of the windows, watering her flowers. While doing soshe is prattling to some birds in a cage. Olof is seated at a table, writing. With an impatient mien he looks up and across the room toChristine as if he wished her to keep quiet. This happens several times, until at last Christine knocks down one of the flower pots, when Oloftaps the floor lightly with his foot. )

Christine. Oh, my poor little flower! Look, Olof, four buds were brokenoff. 

Olof. Yes, I see. 

Christine. No, you don't. You must come over here. 

Olof. My dear, I haven't time. 

Christine. You haven't looked at the starlings which I bought for youthis morning. Don't you think they sing sweetly?

Olof. Rather. 

Christine. Rather?

Olof. It's hard for me to work when they are screaming like that. 

Christine. They are not screaming, Olof, but you seem to be more fond ofa night bird that does scream. Tell me, what is the meaning of the owlthat appears on your signet ring?

Olof. The owl is an ancient symbol of wisdom. 

Christine. I think that's stupid! Wise people don't love the darkness. 

Olof. The wise man hates the darkness and the night, but his keen eyeturns night into day. 

Christine. Why are you always right, Olof? Can you tell me?

Olof. Because I know it pleases you, my dear, to let me be in the right. 

Christine. Now, you are right again. --What is that you are writing?

Olof. I am translating. 

Christine. Read a little of it to me. 

Olof. I don't think you could understand it. 

Christine. Why shouldn't I? Is it not in Swedish?

Olof. Yes, but it is too abstract for you. 

Christine. Abstract? What does that mean?

Olof. You wouldn't understand if I told you, but if you don't understandwhat I read to you, then you understand what is meant by "abstract. "

Christine (picking up a piece of half-finished embroidery). Go on andread while I work at this. 

Olof. Listen carefully, then, and forgive me if you find it tedious. 

Christine. I shall understand because I want to. 

Olof (reading). "Matter when considered separate from form is somethingwholly without predictability, indeterminable and indistinguishable. For nothing can originate out of pure non-being, but only out of thenon-being of reality, which is synonymous with being as a possibility. Being in its possibility is no more non-being than is reality. For thatreason every existence is a realized possibility. Thus matter is toAristotle a much more positive substratum than to Plato, who declares itto be pure non-being. And thereby it becomes plain how Aristotle couldconceive of matter in its opposition to form as a positive negativity. "

Christine (throwing aside her work). Stop! Why is it that I cannotunderstand that? Have I not the same mental faculties as you? I amashamed, Olof, because you have such a poor creature of a wife that shecannot understand what you say. No, I will stick to my embroidery, I will clean and dust your study, I will at least learn to read yourwishes in your eyes. I may become your slave, but never, never shall Ibe able to understand you. Oh, Olof, I am not worthy of you! Why didyou make me your wife? You must have over-valued me in a moment ofintoxication. Now you will regret it, and we shall both be unhappy. 

Olof. Christine! Don't take it like that, dear! Come and sit here by me. (He picks up the embroidery. ) Will you believe me if I tell you that Icouldn't possibly do a thing like this? Never in my life could I do it. Are you not then cleverer than I, and am I not the lesser of us two?

Christine. But why can't you do it?

Olof. For the same reason that you couldn't understand me a moment ago:I haven't learned how. And perhaps you will feel happy once more if Itell you that you can learn to understand this book--which, by the by, is not identical with me--while on the other hand, I could never learnto do your work. 

Christine. Why couldn't you?

Olof. Because I am not built that way and don't want to do it. 

Christine. But if you wanted to?

Olof. Well, there, my dear, you have my weak point. I could never wantto do it. Believe me, you are stronger than I, for you have power overyour own will, but I have not. 

Christine. Do you think I could learn to understand that book of yours?

Olof. I am convinced of it. But you must not. 

Christine. Am I still to be kept in ignorance?

Olof. No, no--understand me right! The moment you understood what Iunderstand, you would cease to think of me as--

Christine. A god--

Olof. Let it go at that! But believe me, you would lose what now putsyou above me--the power to control your own will--and then you would beless than I, and I could not respect you. Do you see? It stakes us happyto overvalue each other; let us keep that illusion. 

Christine. Now I don't understand you at all, but I must trust you, Olof. You are right!

Olof. Please leave me alone, Christine--I beg you!

Christine. Do I disturb you?

Olof. There are some very serious thoughts that occupy me. You know, I expect something decisive to happen today. The King has abdicatedbecause the people would not do what he desired. To-day I shall eitherreach my goal or have to start the fight all over again. 

Christine. May I not be happy to-day, Olof--on Midsummer Eve?

Olof. Why should you be so very happy to-day?

Christine. Why should I not--since I have been set free from slavery andhave become your wife?

Olof. Can you forgive me that my happiness is a little more soberbecause it has cost me--a mother?

Christine. I know, and I feel it very deeply. But when your motherlearns of our marriage, she will forgive you and put her curse on me. Whose burden will then be the heavier? However, it doesn't matter, because it's borne for your sake. And this much I know: that terriblestruggles are awaiting you; that daring thoughts are growing in yourmind; and that I can never share your struggle, never help you withadvice, never defend you against those that vilify you--but still I mustlook on, and through it all I must go on living in my own little world, employing myself with petty things which you do not appreciate, butwould miss if they were not attended to. Olof, I cannot weep with you, so you must help me to make you smile with me. Come down from thoseheights which I cannot attain. Leave your battles on the hilltopsand return some time to our home. As I cannot ascend to you, you mustdescend to me for a moment. Forgive me, Olof, if I talk childishly! Iknow that you are a man sent by the Lord, and I have felt the blessingwith which your words are fraught. But you are more than that--you area man, and you are my husband--or at least ought to be. You won't fallfrom your exalted place if you put aside your solemn speech now and thenand let the clouds pass from your forehead. You are not too great, areyou, to look at a flower or listen to a bird? I put the flowers on yourtable, Olof, in order that they might rest your eyes--and you orderedthe maid to take them out because they gave you a headache. I tried tocheer the lonely silence of your work by bringing the birds--whosesong you call screaming. I asked you to come to dinner a while ago--youhadn't time. I wanted to talk to you--you hadn't time. You despise thislittle corner of reality--and yet that is what you have set aside forme. You don't want to lift me up to you--but try at least not to pushme further down. I will take away everything that might disturb yourthoughts. You shall have peace from me--and from my rubbish! (She throwsthe flowers out of the window, picks up the birdcage, and starts toleave. )

Olof. Christine, dear child, forgive me! You don't understand me!

Christine. Always the same: "You don't understand me!" Oh, I know nowwhat it means. In that moment in the sacristy I matured so completelythat I reached my second childhood at once!

Olof. I'll look at your birds and prattle with your flowers, dear heart. 

Christine (putting aside the bird-cage). No, the time for prattleis gone by--from now on we shall be serious. You need not fear myboisterous happiness. It was only put on for your sake, and as itdoesn't suit your sombre calling, I'll--(She bursts into tears. )

Olof (putting his arms around her and kissing her. ) Christine!Christine! You are right! Please pardon me!

Christine. You gave me an unlucky gift, Olof, when you gave me freedom, for I don't know what to do with it. I must have some one to obey!

Olof. And so you shall, but don't let us talk of it any more. Let us eatnow--in fact, I feel quite hungry. 

Christine (pleased). Do you really know how to be hungry? (At thatmoment she looks out of the window and makes a gesture of dismay. ) Goon, Olof, and I'll be with you in a moment. I only want to get things ina little better order in here. 

Olof (as he goes out). Don't let me wait so long for you as you have hadto wait for me. 

(Christine folds her hands as if praying and takes up a positionindicating that she is waiting far somebody about to enter from thestreet. Pause. )

[Enter Olof's Mother. She passes Christine without looking at her. ]

Mother. Is Master Olof at home?

Christine (who has started to meet her in a friendly way, is taken abackfor a moment; then she answers in the same tone). No, but if you care tobe seated, he will be here soon. 

Mother. Thank you! (She seats herself. Pause. ) Bring me a glass ofwater. (Christine waits on her. ) Now you can leave me. 

Christine. It is my housewifely duty to bear you company. 

Mother. I didn't know that the housekeeper of a priest could callherself a housewife. 

Christine. I am the wife of Olof with the sanction of the Lord. Don'tyou know that we are married?

Mother. You are a harlot--that's what I know!

Christine. That word I do not understand. 

Mother. You are the same kind of woman as she with whom Master Olof wastalking that evening in the beer-shop. 

Christine. The one that looked so unhappy? Yes, I don't feel very happy. 

Mother. Of course not! Take yourself out of my sight! Your presenceshames me!

Christine (on her knees). For the sake of your son, don't heap abuse onme!

Mother. With a mother's authority I command you to leave my son's house, the threshold of which you have defiled. 

Christine. As a housewife I open my door to whom I may choose toreceive. I should have closed it to you, had I been able to guess whatlanguage you would use. 

Mother. Big words, indeed! I command you to leave!

Christine. With what right do you force yourself into this house inorder to drive me out of my own home? You have borne a son, and raisedhim--that was your duty, your mission, and you may thank your God forbeing permitted to fill that mission so well, which is a good fortunenot granted to everybody. Now you have reached the edge of the grave. Why not resign yourself before the end comes? Or have you raised yourson so poorly that he is still a child and needs your guidance? If youwant gratitude, come and look for it, but not in this way. Or do youthink it is the destiny of a child to sacrifice its own life merely toshow you gratitude? His mission is calling: "Go!" And you cry to him:"Come to me, you ingrate!" Is he to go astray--is he to waste hispowers, that belong to his country, to mankind--merely for thesatisfaction of your private little selfishness? Or do you imaginethat the fact of having borne and raised him does even entitle you togratitude? Did not your life's mission and destiny lie in that? Shouldyou not thank the Lord for being given such a high mission? Or did youdo it only that you might spend the rest of your life clamoring forgratitude? Don't you see that by using that word "gratitude" you teardown all that you have built up before? And what makes you presume thatyou have rights over me? Is marriage to mean a mortgaging of myfree will to anybody whom nature has made the mother or father of myhusband--who unfortunately could not exist without either? You are not_my_ mother. My troth was not pledged to you when I took Olof as myhusband. And I have sufficient respect for my husband not to permitanybody to insult him, even if it be his own mother. That's why I havespoken as I have!

Mother. Alas, such are the fruits borne by the teachings of my son!

Christine. If you choose to revile your son, it had better be in hispresence. (She goes to the door and calls. ) Olof!

Mother. Such guile already!

Christine. Already? It's nothing new, I think, although I didn't know Ihad it until it was needed. 

[Enter Olof. ]

Olof. Mother! I am right glad to see you!

Mother. Thanks, my son--and good-bye!

Olof. Are you going? What does that mean? I wish to talk to you. 

Mother. No need! She has said all there is to say. You will not have toshow me the door. 

Olof. In God's name, mother, what are you saying? Christine, what doesthis mean?

Mother (about to leave). Good-bye, Olof! This is more than I can everforgive you!

Olof (trying to hold her back). Stay and explain, at least!

Mother. It was not worthy of you! To send her to tell me that you owe menothing and need me no more! Oh, that was cruel! [Exit. ]

Olof. What did you say, Christine?

Christine. I don't remember, because there were so many things which Ihad never dared to think, but which I must have dreamt while father keptme still enslaved. 

Olof. I don't know you any more, Christine. 

Christine. No, I begin to feel a little lost myself. 

Olof. Were you unkind to mother?

Christine. I suppose I was. Does it seem to you that I have grown hard, Olof?

Olof. Did you show her the door?

Christine. Forgive me, Olof! I was not kind to her. 

Olof. For my sake you might have made your words a little milder. Whydidn't you call me at once?

Christine. I wished to see if I had the strength to take care of myself. Olof, would you sacrifice me to your mother, if she demanded it?

Olof. I cannot answer such a question offhand. 

Christine. I'll do it in your place. It pleases you to submit willinglyto your mother's will and wish because you are strong--and I, on theother hand, feel hurt by doing so, for I am weak. I will never do it!

Olof. Not if I ask you?

Christine. That's more than you can ask. Or would you have me hateher?--Tell me, Olof, what is meant by a "harlot"?

Olof. You ask such strange questions. 

Christine. Will you please answer me?

Olof. Will you forgive me if I don't?

Christine. Always this unending silence! Do you not yet dare to tell meall? Am I to be a child forever? Then you had better put me in a nurseryand talk baby-talk to me. 

Olof. It means an unfortunate woman. 

Christine. No, it means something more than that. 

Olof. Has anybody dared to use that word to you?

Christine (after a pause). No. 

Olof. Now you are not telling the truth, Christine. 

Christine. I know I lie! Oh, since yesterday I have grown very wicked!

Olof. You are hiding something that happened yesterday!

Christine. I am--I thought that I could keep it to myself, but it hasgrown too much for me. 

Olof. Speak--I beg you!

Christine. But you mustn't call me silly! A crowd of people pursued meall the way to our door and called after me that horrible word which Idon't understand. People do not laugh at an unfortunate woman--

Olof. Yes, dear, that's just what they do. 

Christine. I didn't understand their words, but their actions were plainenough to make me wicked!

Olof. And yet you were so kind to me! Forgive me if I have been hard toyou!--It is a name given by brute force to its own victims. Sooneror later, you'll learn more about it, but never dare to defend an"unfortunate woman"--for then they will throw mud at you! (A messengerenters and hands him a letter. ) At last! (After a glance at the letter. )You read it to me, Christine! It is from your lips I want to hear theglad tidings. 

Christine (reading). "Young man, you have conquered! I, your enemy, desire to be the first to tell you so, and I address myself to youwithout any sense of humiliation because, in speaking for the new faith, you have wielded no weapons but those of the spirit. Whether you beright, I cannot tell, but I think you have deserved a piece of advicefrom an older man: stop here, for your enemies are gone! Do not wage waron creatures made of air, for that will lame your arm and you will dieof dry rot. Do not put your trust in princes--is another piece of advicegiven you by a once powerful man who has now to step aside and leave tothe Lord to settle what is to become of his prostrated Church. JohannesBrask. " (Speaking. ) You have conquered!

Olof (joyfully). I thank Thee, Lord, for this hour. (Pause. ) No, itscares me, Christine! This fortune is too great. I am too young to havereached the goal already. To have no more to do--oh, what a frightfulthought! No further fighting--that would be death!

Christine. Oh, rest a moment, and be happy that it is over. 

Olof. Can there be an end to anything? An end to such a beginning? No, no!--Oh, that I could begin it all anew! It wasn't the victory I wanted, but the fight!

Christine. Olof, do not tempt the Lord! I have a feeling that muchremains undone--very much, indeed!

[Enter Courtier. ]

Courtier. Good-day to you, Secretary! And pleasant news! [ExitChristine. ]

Olof. Be welcome! Some of it I have heard already. 

Courtier. Thanks for your splendid answering of that stupid Galle. Youwent after him like a man. A little too fiercely, perhaps--not quite somuch fire, you know! And a little venom doesn't hurt. 

Olof. You have news from the King?

Courtier. Yes, and you shall have a brief summary of the conditionsagreed on: First, mutual support for the resistance and punishment ofall rebellions. 

Olof. Go on, if you please. 

Courtier. Second, the King shall have the right to take possession ofthe palaces and fortified places of the bishops, as well as to fix theirincomes--

Olof. Third--

Courtier. Now comes the best of all--the principal point of the wholeundertaking: Third, the nobility shall have the right to claim whateverof its properties and inheritances have fallen to churches and cloisterssince the revision by King Carl Knutsson in 1454--

Olof. And fourth?

Courtier. Provided the heir can get twelve men under oath to attest hisright of inheritance at the assizes. (He folds the document from whichhe has been reading. )

Olof. Have you finished?

Courtier. Yes. Isn't that pretty good?

Olof. Nothing more?

Courtier. Oh, there are a few minor points of no special importance. 

Olof. Let me hear them. 

Courtier (reading again). There is a fifth point about the right ofpreachers to preach the word of God, but, of course, they have had thatall the time. 

Olof. Nothing more?

Courtier. Yes, then comes the ordinance: a register is to be establishedshowing the amount of tithes collected by all bishops, chapters, andcanons, and the King shall have the right to prescribe--

Olof. Oh, that's neither here nor there!

Courtier. --how much of those may be retained, and how much shallbe surrendered to him for the use of the Crown; furthermore, allAppointments to spiritual offices--and this ought to interest you--tospiritual offices, minor as well as major, can hereafter be made onlywith the sanction of the King, so that--

Olof. Will you please read me the point dealing with the faith--

Courtier. The faith--there is nothing about it. Oh, yes, let mesee--from this day the Gospel is to be read in all schoolhouses. 

Olof. Is that all?

Courtier. All? Oh, no, I remember! I have a special order from the Kingto you--and a most sensible one--that, as the people are stirred up overall these innovations, you must by no means disturb the old forms; mustnot abolish masses, holy water, nor any other usage, nor furthermoreindulge in any reckless acts, for hereafter the King will not close hiseyes to your escapades as he has had to do in the past, when he lackedpower to do otherwise. 

Olof. I see! And the new faith which he has permitted me to preach sofar?

Courtier. It is to ripen slowly. --It will come! It will come!

Olof. Is there anything more?

Courtier (rising). No. If you will only keep calm now, you may go veryfar. Oh, yes--I came near forgetting the best part of all. My dearPastor, permit me to congratulate you! Here is your appointment. Pastor of the city church, with an income of three thousand, at yourage--indeed, you could now settle down in peace and enjoy life, even ifyou were never to get any further. It is splendid to have reached one'sgoal while still so young. I congratulate you! [Exit. ]

Olof (flinging the appointment on the floor). So this is all that I havefought and suffered for! An appointment! A royal appointment! I havebeen serving Belial instead of God! Woe be to you, false King, who havesold your Lord and God! Alas for me, who have sold my life and my laborsto mammon! O God in Heaven, forgive me! (He throws himself, weeping, ona bench. )

[Enter Christine and Gert. Christine comes forward, while Gert remainsin the background. ]

Christine (picks up the appointment and reads it; then she runs to Olof, her face beaming). Now, Olof, I can wish you joy with a happy heart!(She starts to caress him, but he leaps to his feet and pushes heraway. )

Olof. Leave me alone! You, too!

Gert (coming forward). Well, Olof, the faith--

Olof. The lack of faith, you mean!

Gert. The Pope is beaten, isn't he? Hadn't we better begin with theEmperor soon?

Olof. We began at the wrong end. 

Gert. At last!

Olof. You were right, Gert! I am with you now! It's war, but it must beopen and honest. 

Gert. Until to-day you have been dreaming childish dreams. 

Olof. I know it. Now the flood is coming! Let it come! Alas for them andfor us!

Christine. Olof, for Heaven's sake, stop!

Olof. Leave me, child! Here you will be drowned, or you will drag medown. 

Gert. What made you venture out in the storm, my child?

[Exit Christine. ]

(The ringing of bells, the joyful shouting of crowds, and the soundingof drums and trumpets become audible. )

Olof (going to the window). What has set the people shouting?

Gert. The King is providing them with a maypole and music outside NorthGate. 

Olof. And are they not aware that he will chasten them with swordsinstead of rods?

Gert. Aware? If they were!

Olof. Poor children! They dance to his piping and follow his drums totheir death! Must all die, then, in order that one may live?

Gert. No, one shall die that all may live!

(Olof makes a gesture dismay and repugnance. )

ACT IV

(A Room in the House of Olof's Mother. At the right stands a bedsteadwith four posts, in which the Mother is lying sick. Christine is asleepon a chair. Lars Pedersson is renewing the oil of the night-lamp andturning the hour glass. )

Lars (speaking to himself). Midnight--Now comes the critical time. (He goes to the bed and listens. At that moment Christine moans in hersleep. He crosses the room and wakens her. ) Christine! (She wakes with astart. ) Go to bed, child; I will watch. 

Christine. No, I will wait. I must speak to her before she dies--I thinkOlof should be here soon. 

Lars. It is for his sake you are watching!

Christine. Yes, and you mustn't say that I have slept. Do you hear?

Lars. Poor girl!--You're not happy!

Christine. Who says one should be happy?

Lars. Does Olof know that you are here?

Christine. No, he would never permit it. He wants to keep me like thecarved image of some saint standing on a shelf. The smaller and weakerhe can make me, the greater is his pleasure in placing his strength atmy feet--

Mother (waking). Lars! (Christine holds back Lars and steps forward. )Who is that?

Christine. The nurse. 

Mother. Christine!

Christine. Do you want anything?

Mother. Nothing from you. 

Christine. Dame Christine!

Mother. Don't make my last moments more bitter. Go away from here!

Lars (coming forward). What do you want, mother?

Mother. Take away that woman! And bring the father confessor--I shallsoon die. 

Lars. Is not your own son worthy of receiving your last confidences?

Mother. No, he has done nothing to deserve them. Has Mårten come yet?

Lars. Mårten is a bad man. 

Mother. O Lord, how terrible Thy punishment! My children standingbetween myself and Thee! Am I then to be denied the consolations ofreligion in my last moments? You have taken my life--do you want todestroy my soul, too--the soul of your mother? (She falls into a faint. )

Lars. Do you hear that, Christine! What are we to do? Shall we lether die in the deception practised on her by a miserable wretch likeMårten--and perhaps get her thanks for it--or shall we turn her finalprayer into a curse? No, let them come, rather! Or what do you think, Christine?

Christine. I dare not think at all. 

Lars (goes out for a moment, but returns quickly). Oh, it is horrible!They have fallen asleep over their dice and their tumblers. And by suchas those my mother is to be prepared for her death!

Christine. But why not tell her the truth?

Lars. She won't believe it, and it is cast back on us as a lie. 

Mother. My son, won't you listen to your mother's last request?

Lars (going out). May God forgive me!

Christine. Olof would never have done that!

(Lars returns with Mårten and Nils, whereupon he leads Christine out ofthe room. )

Mårten (going up to the bed). She's sleeping. 

Nils (places a box on the floor, opens it, and begins to take outaspersorium, censer, chrismatory, palms, and candles). That means wecan't go to work yet. 

Mårten. If we have waited all this time, we can afford to wait a littlelonger--provided that damned priest doesn't show up. 

Nils. Master Olof, you mean?--Do you think that fellow out there noticedanything?

Mårten. What do I care? As soon as the old woman gives up the coin, I amfree. 

Nils. You 're a pretty thorough-paced rascal, you are!

Mårten. Yes, but I am getting tired of it. I am beginning to long forpeace. Do you know what life is?

Nils. No. 

Mårten. Pleasure! "The flesh was God!" Isn't that the way it's writtensomewhere?

Nils. "The Word became flesh, " you mean?

Mårten. Oh, yes--of course!

Nils. You might have been it pretty big man, with your head!

Mårten. Yes, indeed! That's what they feared, and that's why theywhipped the soul out of my body in the convent--for after all I had asoul once! But now there's nothing but body left, and now the body isgoing to have its turn. 

Nils. And I suppose they whipped all conscience out of you at the sametime?

Mårten. Well, practically. --But now I want that recipe for spicedRochelle which you were talking of when we fell asleep out there. 

Nils. Did I say Rochelle? I meant claret. That is, it can be either theone or the other. Well, you take a gallon of wine and half a pound ofcardamom that has been well cleaned--

Mårten. Hush--damn you! She is moving. Out with the book!

Nils (keeps on reading in an undertone during the following scene). 

 Aufer immensam, Deus aufer iram; Et cruentatum cohibe flagellum Nec scelus nostrum proferes ad aequam Pendere lancem. 

Mother. Is that you, Mårten?

Mårten. It's Brother Nils praying to the Holy Virgin. (Nils lights thecenser without interrupting his reading. )

Mother. What a precious boon to hear the word of the Lord in the sacredtongue!

Mårten. No sweeter sacrifice is known to God than the prayers of pioussouls. 

Mother. Like the incense, my heart is set on fire with holy devotion. 

Mårten (sprinkling her with holy water). The stains of sin are by yourGod washed off!

Mother. Amen!--Mårten, I am passing away--The godlessness of the Kingmakes it impossible for me by earthly gifts to strengthen the HolyChurch in her power of saving souls. You are a pious man--take myproperty and pray for me and for my children. Pray that the Almightymay turn their hearts away from all lies, so that some time we may meetagain in heaven. 

Mårten (taking the bag of money she hands him). Goodwife, your sacrificeis acceptable to the Lord, and for your sake my prayers will be heard byGod. 

Mother. I want to sleep awhile in order to be strong enough to receivethe last sacrament. 

Mårten. No one shall disturb your final moments--not even those who wereyour children once. 

Mother. It seems cruel, Father Mårten, but it's the will of God. (Shefalls asleep; Mårten and Nils withdraw from the bed. )

Mårten (opening the bag and kissing the gold coins). What stores ofpleasure lie hidden beneath the hardness of this gold--Ah!

Nils. Are we going now?

Mårten. Oh, we might, as our errand here is done, but I think it wouldbe a pity to let the old woman die unsaved. 

Nils. Unsaved?

Mårten. Yes!

Nils. Do you believe in that?

Mårten. It's hard to know what one is to believe nowadays. One dieshappily in this faith, and another in that. All assert that they havefound the truth. 

Nils. And if you were to die now, Mårten?

Mårten. That's out of the question!

Nils. But if?

Mårten. Then I suppose I should go to heaven like the rest. But I shouldprefer to settle a small account with Master Olof first. You see, thereis one pleasure that surpasses all the rest, and that's the pleasure ofrevenge. 

Nils. What has he done to you?

Mårten. He has dared to see through me; he has exposed me; he can readwhat I am thinking--Oh!

Nils. And that's why you hate him?

Mårten. Isn't that enough? (Somebody is heard knocking on the doorleading to the street. ) Somebody is coming! Read, damn you!

(Nils begins to drone out the same verse as before. The sound of akey being inserted in the lock is heard. The door is opened from theoutside. )

[Enter Olof, looking greatly agitated. ]

Mother (waking up). Father Mårten!

Olof (goes to the bed). Here is your son, mother! Why didn't you let meknow that you were sick?

Mother. Farewell, Olof! I forgive you all the evil you have done to me, if you will not disturb the few moments I need to prepare myself forheaven. Father Mårten! Bring here the sacred ointment, so that I may diein peace. 

Olof. So that's why you didn't call me! (He catches sight of the moneybag which Mårten has forgotten to hide, and snatches it away from themonk. ) Oh, souls are being bartered here! And this was to be the price!Leave this room and this death-bed! Here is my place, not yours!

Mårten. You mean to prevent us from fulfilling our office?

Olof. I am showing you the door!

Mårten. As long as we are not suspended, we are doing our duty here bythe King's authority, and not by the Pope's. 

Olof. I shall cleanse the Church of the lord without regard to the willof King or Pope. 

Mother. Will you plunge my soul into perdition, Olof? Will you let medie with a curse?

Olof. Calm yourself, mother! You are not going to die in a lie. Seekyour God in prayer, He is not so far away as you believe. 

Mårten. A man who won't save his own mother from the pangs of purgatorymust be the Devil's prophet indeed. 

Mother. Christ Jesu, help my soul!

Olof. Will you leave this room, or must I use force? Take away thatrubbish! (He kicks the ritual accessories across the floor. )

Mårten. I'll go if you'll let me have the money your mother has given tothe Church. 

Mother. So that's why you came, Olof? You wanted my gold! Let him haveit, Mårten. I'll let you have all of it, Olof, if you will only leave mein peace! I'll give you more than that! I'll let you have everything!

Olof (driven to despair). In God's name, take the money and go! I begyou!

Mårten (grabbing the bag and going out with Nils). Where the Devil isabroad, there our power ends, Dame Christine! (To Olof. ) As a hereticyou are lost for all eternity! As a law-breaker you will get yourpunishment right here! Beware of the King! [Exeunt. ]

Olof (kneeling beside his mother's bed). Mother, listen to me beforeyou die! (The Mother has lost consciousness. ) Mother, mother, if you arealive, speak to your son! Forgive me, but I could not act except as Ihave done. I know you have been suffering all your life for my sake. You have been praying to God that I should keep His paths. The Lord hasheard your prayer. Do you want me now to render your whole life futile?Do you want me now, by obeying you, to destroy that structure which hascost you so much in toil and tears? Forgive me!

Mother. Olof, my soul is no longer of this world--it's out of anotherlife I speak to you: turn back! Break that unclean bond which ties yourbody only. Take back the faith you got from me, and I will forgive you!

Olof (weeping bitterly). Mother! Mother!

Mother. Swear that you will do it!

Olof (after long silence). No!

Mother. The curse of God is upon you--I see Him--I see His angrylook--Help me, Holy Virgin!

Olof. That is not the God of love!

Mother. It is the God of retribution!--It is you who have provoked Hisire--and it is you who now cast me into the flames of His wrath!--Cursedbe the hour when I bore you! (She dies. )

Olof. Mother! Mother! (He takes her hand. ) She's dead! And she has notforgiven me!--Oh, if your soul be still within this room, behold yourson: I will do your will, and what was sacred to you shall be sacred tome! (He lights the tall wax candles left behind by the friars and placesthem around the bed. ) You shall have the consecrated candles that are tolight your road. (He puts a palm leaf in her hand. ) And with this palmof peace shall come forgetfulness of that last struggle with what wasearthly. Oh, mother, if you see me now, then you must forgive me! (Inthe meantime the sun has risen, and the red glow of its first rayslights up the curtains; at the sight of it, Olof leaps to his feet. ) Youmake my candles fade, O morning sun! You have more love than I! (He goesto the window and opens it. )

Lars (entering softly and looking around surprised). Olof!

Olof (putting his arms around him). Brother, all is over! Lars (goes tothe bed and kneels for a moment; then he rises again). She is dead! (Heprays silently. ) You were here alone?

Olof. It was you who let in the monks. 

Lars. And you who drove them out. 

Olof. That should have been your task. 

Lars. She forgave you?

Olof. She died with a curse on her lips. (Pause. )

Lars (pointing to the candles). Who arranged these ceremonies? (Pause. )

Olof (irritated and humiliated). I weakened for a moment. 

Lars. So you are human, after all? I thank you for it!

Olof. Are you mocking my weakness?

Lars. I am praising it. 

Olof. And I am cursing it!--God in heaven, am I not right?

Lars. No, you are wrong. 

[Enter Christine while Lars is still speaking. ]

Christine. You are too much in the right!

Olof. Christine, what are you doing here?

Christine. It was so silent and lonesome at home. 

Olof. I asked you not to come here. 

Christine. I thought I might be of some use, but I see now--Another timeI shall stay at home. 

Olof. You have been awake all night?

Christine. That is nothing! I will go now if you tell me to!

Olof. Go in there and rest a little while we talk. (Christine beginsabsentmindedly to extinguish the candles. )

Olof. What are you doing, dear?

Christine. Why, it is full daylight. 

(Lars gives Olof a significant glance. )

Olof. My mother is dead, Christine. 

Christine (as she goes to Olof to let him kiss her on the forehead, thelook on her face is compassionate but cold). I am sorry for your loss. [Exit Christine. ]

(Pause. The brothers look for a moment in the direction where shedisappeared, then at each other. )

Lars. I beg you, Olof, as your friend and brother, don't go on as youhave been doing. 

Olof. The old story! But he who has put his axe to the tree cannot drawback until the tree is down. The King has betrayed our cause. Now I willsee what I can do for it. 

Lars. The King is wise. 

Olof. He is a miser, a traitor, and a protector of the nobility. Firsthe uses me to hunt his game, and then he wants to kick me out. 

Lars. He sees farther than you do. If you were to go to threemillion people, telling them: "Your faith is false; believe my wordsinstead"--do you think it possible that they would at once cast asidetheir most intimate and most keenly experienced conviction, which untilthen had been a support to them in sorrow as well as in joy? No, thelife of the soul would be in a bad condition, indeed, if all the oldthings could be disposed of so quickly. 

Olof. But it is not so. The whole people is full of doubt. Among thepriests there is hardly one who knows what to believe--if he cares tobelieve anything at all. Everything is ready for the new, and it is onlyyou who are to blame--you weaklings whose consciences will not permityou to sow doubt where nothing but a feeble faith remains. 

Lars. Look out, Olof! You wish to play the part of God. 

Olof. Well, that is what we must do, for I don't think that He Himselfintends to conic down to us any more. 

Lars. You are tearing down and tearing down, Olof, so that soon therewill be nothing left, and when people ask, "What do we get instead?"you always answer, "Not this, " "Not that, " but never once do you answer, "This. "

Olof. Presumptuous man! Do you think faith can be given by one toanother? Do you think that Luther has given us anything new? No! He hasmerely torn away the screens that had been placed around the light. Thenew that I want is doubt of the old, not because it is old, but becauseit is decaying. (Lars points toward their mother's body. ) I know whatyou mean. She was too old, and I thank God that she is dead. Now I amfree--only now! God has willed it!

Lars. Either you have lost your senses, or you are a wicked man!

Olof. Don't reproach me! I have as much respect for our mother's memoryas you have, but if she had not died now, I don't know how far mysacrifices might have gone. Have you noticed in the springtime, brother, how the fallen leaves of yesteryear cover the ground as if to smotherall the young; things that are coming out? What do these do? They pushaside the withered leaves, or pass right through them, because they mustget up!

Lars. You are right to a certain extent. --Olof, you broke the lawsof the Church during a time of lawlessness and unrest. What could beforgiven then must be punished now. Don't force the King to appear worsethan he is. Don't let your scorn for the law and your wilfulness forcehim to punish a man to whom he acknowledges himself indebted. 

Olof. Nothing is more wilful than his own rule, and he must learn totolerate the same thing in others. Tell me you have taken service withthe King--are you going to work against me?

Lars. I am. 

Olof. Then we are enemies, and that is what I need, for the old oneshave disappeared. 

Lars. But the tie of blood, Olof--

Olof. I know it only in its source, which is the heart. 

Lars. Yet you wept for our mother. 

Olof. Weakness, or perhaps a touch of old devotion and gratitude, butnot because of the tie of blood. What is it, anyhow?

Lars. You are tired out, Olof. 

Olof. Yes, I feel exhausted; I have been awake all night. 

Lars. You were so late in coming. 

Olof. I was out. 

Lars. Your doings seem to shun the daylight. 

Olof. The daylight shuns my doings. 

Lars. Beware of false apostles of freedom!

Olof (struggling with sleepiness and fatigue). That's aself-contradictory term. Oh, don't talk to me--I can't stand any more. I spoke so much at our meeting--But you don't know about oursociety--Concordia res parvae crescunt--We mean to continue theReformation--Gert is a farsighted man--I seem so small besidehim--Good-night, Lars! (He falls asleep on a chair. )

Lars (stands looking at him with solicitude). Poor brother--may Godprotect you! (Resounding blows on the street door are heard. ) What'sthat? (He goes to the window. )

Gert (outside). For God's sake, open!

Lars. Why, it isn't a matter of life and death, Father Gert. [Exit. ]

Gert (outside). In God's name, let me in!

[Enter Christine with a blanket. ]

Christine. Olof, why are they knocking like that? He's asleep! (Shewraps him up in the blanket. ) Oh, that I were Sleep, so that you mightflee to me when tired out by your struggles!

(The rattle of a heavy cart is heard; then the cart comes to a stopoutside the house. ). 

Olof (waking up with a start). Is it five already?

Christine. No, it is only three. 

Olof. Wasn't that a baker's cart I heard?

Christine. I don't know, but I don't think it would make such a noise. (She goes to the window. ) Look, Olof! What can this he?

Olof (going to the window). The headsman's cart!--No, it isn't that. 

Christine. It is a hearse!

[Enter Lars and Gert. ]

Lars. The plague!

All. The plague!

Gert. The plague is here! Christine, my child, leave this house! Theangel of death has put his mark upon the gate. 

Olof. Who sent the cart?

Gert. The man who put the black cross on the door. No dead body must beleft a moment in the house. 

Olof. Then Mårten was the angel of death--and all is nothing but a lie. 

Gert. Look out of the window, and you'll see that the cart is loadedfull. (Blows are heard at the street door again. ) You hear! They'rewaiting!

Olof. Without proper burial? That shall never be!

Lars. Without ceremonies, Olof!

Gert. Come away with me, Christine, from this dreadful place! I'll takeyou out of the city to some healthier spot. 

Christine. I will stay with Olof after this. If you, father, had lovedme a little less, you would not have done so much harm. 

Gert. Olof, you who have the power, command her to follow me

Olof. I set her free from your tyranny once, you selfish man, and sheshall never return to it again. 

Gert. Christine, get out of this house, at least!

Christine. Not a step until Olof orders me. 

Olof. I will no longer order you at all, Christine--remember that!

[Enter several Buriers. ]

Burier. I've come for a body. No time to spare!

Olof. Begone from here!

Burier. The King's order!

Lars. Consider what you do, Olof! The law demands it!

Gert. This is no time to hesitate! The crazy mob is aroused against you. This house was the first one to be marked, and they are crying: "God'spunishment upon the heretic!"

Olof (kneeling beside the bed). Mother, forgive! (Rising. ) Do your duty!

(The Buriers come forward and begin to get their ropes ready. )

Gert (aside to Olof). "God's punishment upon the King" is our cry!

ACT V

SCENE I

(The Cemetery of the Convent of St. Clara. In the background appearsa partly demolished convent building, from which a gang of workmen arecarrying out timber and debris. At the left is a mortuary chapel. Itswindows are lighted from within, and whenever the door is opened, abrilliantly illuminated crucifix on the chancel wall, with a sarcophagusstanding in front of it, becomes visible. A number of the graves havebeen opened. The moon is just rising from behind the ruined convent. Windrank is seated outside the chapel door. Singing is heard from withinthe chapel. )

[Enter Nils. ]

Nils (goes up to Windrank). Good evening, Windrank. 

Windrank. Please don't talk to me. 

Nils. What's the matter now?

Windrank. Didn't you hear what I told you?

Nils. Has your scurvy ending as a skipper affected you so badly that youthink of turning monk?

Windrank. 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57. 

Nils. You haven't lost your reason, have you?

Windrank. 58, 59, 60--In the name of Jesu, get away from here!

Nils. You had better have a little nightcap with me. 

Windrank. 64, 65--That's what I expected! Get you gone, tempter! I'llnever take a drink again--until the day after to-morrow. 

Nils. But it's a fine remedy against the plague, and with all thiscadaverous stuff about, you had better be careful. 

Windrank. 70--So you really think it's good for the plague?

Nils. Excellent!

Windrank. Only a drop, then! (He drinks from the bottle offered him byNils. )

Nils. Only a drop! But tell me, are you suffering from vertigo since youare counting to a hundred?

Windrank. Hush! Hush! There's an epoch coming. 

Nils. An epoch?

Windrank. Yes, the day after to-morrow. 

Nils. And that's why you keep counting like that?

Windrank. No, it's only because I find it so hard to hold my tongue. Now, for heaven's sake, keep quiet! Please go away, or you'll get meinto trouble!--71, 72, 73. 

Nils. Who's inside?

Windrank. 74, 75. 

Nils. Is it a funeral?

Windrank. 76, 77. --Go to hell, won't you!

Nils. Just another tiny drop, and the counting will be easier. 

Windrank. Just a little one--I will! (He drinks. Singing is heardoutside. )

Nils. Here come the nuns of St. Clara to celebrate the memory of theirsaint for the last time. 

Windrank. That's fine mummery in days like these when everybody isgetting educated. 

Nils. They have obtained the King's permission. You see, the plaguebroke out in the parish of St. Clara, and some believe it was because ofthe godless destruction of St. Clara's convent. 

Windrank. And now they mean to drive away the plague with singing--asif that bugaboo were a hater of music. But, of course, it wouldn't be awonder if he did flee from their hoarse screeching. 

Nils. Will you please tell me who has dared to invade this lastsanctuary--for it's here the bones of the Saint are to be depositedbefore the place is torn down entirely. 

Windrank. Then there'll be a fight, I fear. 

[The singing has drawn nearer. A procession enters, made up of Dominicanfriars and Franciscan nuns, headed by Mårten. They come to a halt andcontinue singing, while the workmen are making a great deal of noise inthe background. ]

Procession. Cur super vermes luteos furorem Sunnis, O magni fabricator orbis! Quid sumus quam fex, putris, umbra, pulvis Glebaque terrae!

Mårten (to the Abbess). You can see, my sister, how the abode of theLord has been despoiled. 

Abbess. The Lord who has delivered us into the hands of the Egyptianswill also set its free in due time. 

Mårten (to the workmen). Cease working, and do not disturb our pioustask!

Overseer. Our orders are to work day and night until this den has beentorn down. 

Abbess. Alas, that unbelief has spread so far down among the people!

Mårten. We are celebrating this feast with the permission of the King. 

Overseer. Well, I don't mind!

Mårten. And therefore I command you to cease your noise. I'll appealdirectly to your workmen, whom you have forced into this shamelessundertaking. --I'll ask them if they have any respect whatever left forholy--

Overseer. You had better not, for I am in command here. Furthermore, Ican tell you that they are glad enough to have a chance of tearing downthese hornets' nests for which they themselves have had to pay--andthen, too, they are pretty thankful to earn something during a time offamine. (He goes toward the background. )

Mårten. Let us forget the wickedness and tumult of this world. Let usenter the sacred place and pray for them. 

Abbess. Lord, Lord, the cities of Thy sanctuary are laid waste! Zion islaid waste, and Jerusalem is lying desolate!

Windrank. 100. --Nobody can get in here!

The Conspirators (within the chapel). We swear!

Mårten. Who has dared to invade the chapel?

Windrank. It's no more a chapel since it has become a royal storehouse. 

Abbess. That's why the godless one gave us his permission!

[The door of the chapel is thrown open and the conspirators appear;among them Olof, Lars Andersson, Gert, the German, the Dane, the Manfrom Smaland, and others. ]

Olof (much excited). What kind of buffoonery is this?

Mårten. Make way for the handmaidens of St. Clara!

Olof. Do you think your idols can keep away the plague that God has sentyou as a punishment? Do you think the Lord will find those pieces ofbone you carry in the box there so pleasant that He forgives all yourdreadful sins? Take away that abomination! (He takes the reliquary fromthe Abbess and throws it into one of the open graves. ) From dust youhave come, and to dust you shall return, even if your name was SanctaClara da Spoleto and you ate only three ounces of bread a day and sleptamong the swine at night! (The nuns scream. )

Mårten. If you fear not what is holy, fear at least your temporal ruler. Look here! He has still so much respect left for divine things that hedreads the wrath of the saint. (He shows a document to Olof. )

Olof. Do you know what the Lord did with the king of the Assyrians whenhe permitted the worship of idols? He smote him and all his people. Thusthe righteous is made to suffer with the unrighteous. In the name of theone omnipotent God, I declare this worship of Baal abolished, even ifall the kings of the earth give their permit. The Pope wanted to sell mysoul to Satan, but I tore the contract to pieces--you remember? ShouldI then fear a King who wants to sell his people to the Baalim? (He tearsthe document to pieces. )

Mårten (to his followers). You are my witnesses that he has defamed theKing. 

Olof (to his followers). And you are my witnesses before God that I haveled the people of a godless King away from him!

Mårten. Listen, ye faithful! It is because of this heretic that God hassmitten us with the plague--it is the punishment of God, and it fellfirst of all on his mother. 

Olof. Listen, ye faithless papists! It was the punishment of the Lord onme because I had served Sennacherib against Judah. I will atone my crimeby leading Judah against the kings of the Assyrians and the Egyptians. 

(The moon has risen in the meantime. It is very red, and a fiery glarepervades the place. The crowd is frightened. )

Olof (mounting one of the graves). Heaven is weeping blood over yoursins and your idolatry. Punishment shall be meted out, for those inauthority have fallen into wrongdoing. Can't you see that the verygraves are yawning for prey--

(Gert seizes Olof by the arm, whispers to him, and leads him down fromthe mound. The crowd is panic-stricken. )

Abbess. Give us back our reliquary, so that we may abandon this home ofdesolation. 

Mårten. It is better to let the bones of the Saint remain in thisconsecrated soil than to have them touched by the vile hands ofheretics!

Olof. You are afraid of the plague, cowards that you are! Is your faithin the sacred bones no stronger?

(Gert whispers to Olof again. The procession has in the meantimescattered, so that only a part of it remains on the stage. )

Olof (to Mårten). Now you should be satisfied, you hypocrite! Go andtell him whom you serve that a box of silver is about to be buried here, and he'll dig it out of the earth with his own nails. Tell him that themoon, which is usually made of silver, has turned into gold, merely tomake your master raise his eyes toward heaven for once. Tell him thatyou, by your blasphemous buffooneries, have succeeded in provoking anhonest man's wrath--

[Exeunt Mårten and the members of the procession. ]

Gert. Enough, Olof! (To all the conspirators except Olof and Lars. )Leave us, please!

[Exeunt the conspirators, exchanging whispers. ]

Gert (to Olof and Lars). It's too late to back down now!

Olof. What do you want, Gert--speak!

Gert (showing them a bound volume). Before you two, servants of God, apeople steps forth to make its confession. Do you acknowledge your oath?

Olof and Lars. We have sworn!

Gert. This book is the result of my silent labors. On every page youwill find a cry of distress, a sigh from thousands who have been blindenough to think it God's will that they should suffer the tyranny ofone man--who have thought it their duty not even to hope for liberation. (Olof takes the volume and begins to read. ) You shall hear complaintsall the way from the primeval forests of Norrland down to the Sound. Outof the wreckage from the churches the King is building new castles forthe nobility and new prisons for the people. You shall read how theKing is bartering away law and justice by letting murderers escape theirpunishment if they seek refuge at the salt-works. You shall read howhe is taxing vice by letting harlots pay for the right to ply theirtraffic. Yea, the very fishes of the rivers, the water of the seaitself, have been usurped by him. But the end is in sight. The eyesof the people have been opened. There is seething and fermentingeverywhere. Soon the tyranny will be crushed, and the people shall befree!

Olof. Who wrote the songs in this book?

Gert. The people! These are songs of the people--so they sing who feelthe yoke pressing. I have visited city and country, asking them: "Areyou happy?" These are the answers! I have held assizes. Here are theverdicts entered. Do you believe that a million wills may conquer one?Do you believe that God has bestowed this land with all its human soulsand all its property upon a single man, for him to deal with as it suitshis pleasure? Or do you not rather believe that he should do the will ofall?--You do not answer? You are awed, I see, by the thought that it maycome to an end! Listen to my confession! Tomorrow the oppressor dies, and you shall all be free!

Olof and Lars. What are you saying?

Gert. You didn't understand what I was talking about at our meetings. 

Olof. You have deceived us!

Gert. Not at all! You are perfectly free. Two voices less mean nothing. Everything is prepared. 

Lars. Have you considered the consequences?

Gert. Fool! Is it not for the sake of the consequences that I have doneall this?

Olof. Supposing Gert be right--what do you say, Lars?

Lars. I wasn't born to lead. 

Olof. All are born to lead, but all are not willing to sacrifice theflesh. 

Gert. Only he who has the courage to face scorn and ridicule can lead. For hatred is as nothing compared with the laughter that kills. 

Olof. And if it should miscarry?

Gert. Dare to face that, too! You don't know that Thomas Münster hasestablished a new spiritual kingdom at Muhlhausen. You don't knowthat all Europe is in revolt. Who was Dacke, if not a defender of theoppressed? What have the Dalecarlians meant by all their rebellions, ifnot to defend their freedom against him who broke his plighted faith?He does such things and goes unpunished, but when they want to defendthemselves, then he raises the cry of revolt and treason. 

Olof. So this is the point to which you wanted to lead me, Gert?

Gert. Have you not been led here by the current? You will, but do notdare! To-morrow, in the church, the mine will go off, and that will be asignal for the people to rise and choose a ruler after their own heart. 

Olof (turning over the leaves of the book). If it be the will of all, then nobody can stop it. Gert, let me take this book to the King andshow him what is the will of his people, and he will grant them theirrights. 

Gert. Oh, you child! For a moment he may be scared, and perhaps restorea silver pitcher to some church. Then he'll point toward heaven and say:"It is not by my own will that I sit here and do you wrong, but by thewill of God!"

Olof. Then the will of God be done!

Gert. But how?

Olof. He must die that all may live. Murderer, ingrate, traitor--thosewill be my names, perchance. I am sacrificing everything, even myhonor, my conscience, and my faith--could I possibly give more for thosepitiable ones who are crying for salvation? Let us go ere I repent!

Gert. Even if you did, it would already be too late. Don't you knowthat Mårten is a spy, and perhaps sentence has already been pronouncedagainst the rebel!

Olof. Well, I won't repent--and why should I repent of an act thatimplies the carrying out of God's own judgment? Forward, then, in thename of the Lord. [Exeunt. ]

[Enter Harlot, who kneels at a grave which she has strewn with flowers. ]

Harlot. Hast Thou punished me enough now, O Lord, to pardon me?

[Enter Christine quickly. ]

Christine. Have you seen Master Olof, goodwife?

Harlot. Are you his friend or his enemy?

Christine. Do you mean to insult me?

Harlot. Pardon me! I haven't seen him since the last time I prayed. 

Christine. You look so sorrowful! Oh, I know you now! It was you to whomOlof was talking that night in Greatchurch. 

Harlot. You mustn't let it be seen that you are talking to me. You don'tknow who I am, do you?

Christine. Oh, yes, I know. 

Harlot. You know--so they have told you?

Christine. Olof told me. 

Harlot. O my God! And don't you despise me?

Christine. You are an unfortunate, down-trodden woman, Olof told me. Whyshould I despise misfortune?

Harlot. Then you cannot be happy yourself?

Christine. No, we have shared the same fate. 

Harlot. I am not the only one, then! Tell me, who was the worthless manto whom you gave your love?

Christine. Worthless?

Harlot. Oh, pardon--to one who loves, no one seems worthless! To whomdid you give your love?

Christine. You know Master Olof, don't you?

Harlot. Oh, tell me that it is not true! Don't rob me of my faith inhim, too! It is the only thing I have left since God took my child!

Christine. You have had a child? Then you have been happy once. 

Harlot. I thank God, who did not permit my son to find out theunworthiness of his mother. 

Christine. Have you been guilty of any crime, that you speak so?

Harlot. I have just buried it. 

Christine. Your child? How can you! And I pray God every day to grant mea little one--so that I may at least have one creature to love!

Harlot. Oh, poor child, pray to God that He preserve you from it!

Christine. I don't understand you, goodwife!

Harlot. Don't call me that! You know who I am, don't you?

Christine. Well, don't they offer prayers in the churches for those whohave hopes?

Harlot. Not for such as we!

Christine. Such as we?

Harlot. They pray for the others and curse us. 

Christine. What do you mean by "the others"? I don't understand you atall. 

Harlot. Do you know the wife of Master Olof?

Christine. Why, that is I!

Harlot. You? Oh, why didn't I guess at once? Can you forgive me amoment's doubt? How could vice look like you and him? Alas! You mustleave me. You are a child, still ignorant of wickedness. You must not betalking to me longer. God bless you! Good-bye! (She starts to leave. )

Christine. Don't leave me! Whoever you be, for God's sake, stay! Theyhave broken into our house, and my husband is not to be found. Takeme away from here--home to yourself--anywhere. You must be a goodwoman--you cannot be wicked--

Harlot (interrupting her). If I tell you that the brutality of the crowdwouldn't hurt you half so much as my company, then perhaps you willforgive me for leaving--

Christine. Who are you?

Harlot. I am an outcast on whom has been fulfilled that curse which Godhurled at woman after the fall of our first parents. Ask me no more, forif I told you more, your contempt would goad me to a self-defence thatwould be still more contemptible. --Here comes somebody who perhaps willbe generous enough to escort you, if you promise to let him have yourhonor and virtue and eternal peace for his trouble--for that is probablythe least he will accept for his protection at such a late hour as this!Please forgive me--it is not at you that I am railing. 

[Enter Windrank, intoxicated. ]

Windrank. Why the devil can't a fellow be left alone, even here amongthe corpses? See here, my good ladies, please don't ask me anything, fornow I can't guarantee that I won't answer. The day after to-morrow I'lltell you all about it, for then it'll be too late. Perhaps you're someof those nuns that have been made homeless? Well, although women arenothing but women, I don't think I have any right to be impolite, forall that the sun set long ago. Of course, there is an old law sayingthat nobody can be arrested after sunset, but though the law is abugbear, I think it's too polite to insist on anything when it's aquestion of ladies. Hush, hush, tongue! Why, the old thing is going likea spinning-wheel, but that comes from that infernal gin! Why should I bedragged into this kind of thing? Of course, I'll get well paid and be aman of means, but don't believe that I am doing it for the sake of themoney! It's done now, but I don't want to--I don't want to! I want tosleep in peace nights and have no ghosts to trouble me. Suppose I gooand tell? No, then they'll arrest me. Suppose somebody else would go andtell? Perhaps one of you nuns might be so kind as to do it?

Christine (who has been conferring with the Harlot). If you haveanything on your conscience that troubles you, please tell us. 

Windrank. Am I to tell? That's just what I want to get out of, but thisis horrible, and I can't stand it any longer. I am forced to do it. Whyshould I be the one? I don't want to. 

Christine. My dear man, you mean to commit--

Windrank. A murder. Who told you? Well, thank God that you know! By allmeans, go ahead and tell about it--at once--or I'll have no peace--nopeace in all eternity!

Christine (recovering from the first shock). Why should you murder him?

Windrank. Oh, there are such a lot of reasons. Just look at the way heis tearing down your nunneries. 

Christine. The King?

Windrank. Yes, of course! The father and liberator of his country!Of course, he's an oppressor, but that's no reason why he should bemurdered. 

Christine. When is it going to happen?

Windrank. Why, to-morrow--in Greatchurch--right in church! [At a signalfrom Christine, the Harlot leaves. ]

Christine. How could they pick you for such a deed?

Windrank. Well, you see, I gave a connection or two among the churchattendants, and then I am poor, of course. What the devil does it matterwho puts the match to the powder, if only some shrewd fellow is pointingthe gun? And then we have several other little schemes in reserve, although I'm to fire the first shot. But why don't you run off and tellabout it?

Christine. It has already been done. 

Windrank. Well, God be thanked and praised! Goodbye, there goes all mymoney!

Christine. Tell me who you are, you conspirators. 

Windrank. No, that I won't tell!

[Enter Nils. He crosses the stage followed by a troop of soldiers and acrowd of people. ]

Christine. Do you see that they are already looking for you?

Windrank. I wash my hands of it. 

Nils (goes up to Windrank without noticing Christine). Have you seenOlof Pedersson?

Windrank. Why?

Nils. Because he is wanted. 

Windrank. No, I haven't seen him. Are there others wanted?

Nils. Yes, many. 

Windrank. No, I haven't seen any of them. 

Nils. Well, it will soon be your turn. [Exit. ]

Christine. Are they looking for the conspirators?

Windrank. What a question! Now I'm going to clear out. Good-bye!

Christine. Tell me before you go--

Windrank. Haven't time!

Christine. Is Master Olof one of them?

Windrank. Of course! (Christine sinks down unconscious on one of thegraves. Windrank is suddenly sobered and genuinely moved. ) Good Lord inheaven, it must be his wife! (He goes to Christine. ) I think I've killedher! Oh, Hans, Hans, all you can do now is to get a rope foryourself! What business did you have to get mixed up with the high andmighty?--Come here, somebody, and help a poor woman!

[Enter Olof, led by soldiers carrying torches as he catches sight ofChristine, he tears himself loose and throws himself on his knees besideher. ]

Olof. Christine!

Christine. Olof! You're alive! Come away from here and let us go home!

Olof (overwhelmed). It's too late!

SCENE 2

(Within Greatchurch. Olof and Gert, dressed as penitents, stand inthe pillory near the entrance. The organ is playing and the bells areringing. The service is just ended, and the people are leaving thechurch. The Sexton and his wife are standing by themselves in a cornernear the footlights. )

Sexton. Lars the Chancellor, he was pardoned, but not Master Olof. 

Wife. The Chancellor has always been a man of peace and has neverstirred up any trouble, so I can't understand how he could want to haveanything to do with such dreadful things. 

Sexton. The Chancellor has always had a queer streak, although he hasnever said much, and though he was pardoned, it cost him everythinghe had. I can't help being sorry for Master Olof; I have always had aliking for him, even though he has been a fire-brand. 

Wife. Well, what's the use of making a young fellow like that pastor?

Sexton. Of course, he's rather young, and that has been his main fault, but I'm sure time will cure it. 

Wife. What nonsense you are talking, seeing that he's going to dieto-day. 

Sexton. Well, Lord, Lord, if I hadn't clean forgotten about it! But thenit doesn't seem quite right to me, either. 

Wife. Do you know if he has repented?

Sexton. I doubt very much, for I am sure his neck is just as stiff asever. 

Wife. But I suppose he'll thaw out a little now, when he sees his classof children whom they wouldn't let him prepare for confirmation. 

Sexton. Well, I must say that the King can be pretty mean when he turnsthat side to. Now he is making the pastor do church penance the verysame day his children are being confirmed. It's almost as bad as whenhe made the dean drink with the headsman, or when he sent those twoprelates riding through the city with crowns of birch bark on theirheads. 

Wife. And his own brother Lars has been sent to shrive him. 

Sexton. See, here come the children! How sad they're looking--well, Idon't wonder. I think I'll have to go in and have a cry myself--

(Enter the children about to be confirmed, boys and girls. They begin tomarch past Olof, carrying bunches of flowers in their hands. Theylook sad and keep their eyes on the ground. A number of older peopleaccompany the children. A few curious persons point out Olof and arerebuked by others. Last of all the children in the procession comesVilhelm, one of the scholars with whom Olof was seen playing in theFirst Act. He stops timidly in front of him, kneels, and drops his bunchof flowers at the feet of Olof, who does not notice it because he haspulled down the hood of his penitential robe so that it hides his face. Some of the people mutter disapprovingly, while others show signs ofpleasure. Mårten comes forward to take away the flowers, but is pushedback by the crowd. Soldiers clear a path for Lars Pedersson, who appearsin canonicals. The crowd disappears gradually, leaving Lars, Olof, andGert alone on the stage. The playing of the organ ceases, but the bellscontinue to toll. )

Lars. Olof, the King has refused to listen to the petition for pardonsubmitted by the City Corporation. Are you prepared to die?

Olof. I am not able to think so far. 

Lars. I have been ordered to prepare you. 

Olof. That will have to be done in haste, for my blood is still runningquickly through my veins. 

Lars. Have you repented?

Olof. No!

Lars. Do you want to pass into eternity with an unforgiving mind?

Olof. Oh, put aside the formulas, if you want me to listen to you. Ican't think that I am going to die now--there 's far too much of lifeand strength left in me. 

Lars. I must tell you that I don't think so either, and that it is for anew life in this world I am trying to prepare you. 

Olof. Then I may live?

Lars. If you will admit that you were mistaken in the past, and if youwill take back what you have said about the King. 

Olof. How could I? That would be to die indeed!

Lars. This was what I had to tell you. Now you must decide for yourself. 

Olof. One doesn't parley about one's convictions. 

Lars. Even a mistake may turn into conviction. I shall leave you tothink the matter over. [Exit. ]

Gert. Our harvest wasn't ready. It takes a lot of snow to make the fallcrops ripen--nay, centuries must pass before you will even see the firstshoots. All the conspirators are under arrest, they say, and te deumsare sung on that account. But they are mistaken; conspirators areabroad everywhere--in the royal apartments, in the churches, and in themarket-places--but they dare not do what we have dared. And yet they'llreach that point some time. Good-bye, Olof! You must live a littlelonger, for you are young. I shall die with the utmost pleasure. Thename of every new martyr becomes the rallying-cry for a new host. Don'tbelieve that a human soul was ever set on fire by a lie. Don't everdistrust those feelings that shake you to your inmost soul when youhave seen some one suffer spiritual or physical oppression. If thewhole world tell you that you are wrong, believe your own heart justthe same--if you are brave enough to do so. The day when you deny yourself--then you are dead, and eternal perdition will seem a mercy to onewho, has been guilty of the sin against the Holy Ghost. 

Olof. You speak of my release as though it were a certainty. 

Gert. The Corporation has offered 500 ducats for your ransom, and if itcost only 2000 to get Birgitta declared a saint, then 500 should sufficeto get you declared guiltless. The King doesn't dare to take your life!

[Enter the Lord High Constable, followed by the Headsman and soldiers. ]

Constable. Take away Gert the Printer. 

Gert (to Olof, as he is being led away). Good-bye, Olof! Take care of mydaughter, and don't ever forget the great Whitsunday!

Constable. Master Olof, you are a young man who has been led astray. TheKing will pardon you for the sake of your youth, but as a safeguard hedemands a retraction wherein you take back whatever you have venturedbeyond and against his orders. 

Olof. Then the King is still in need of me?

Constable. There are many more who need you, but don't rely on his mercyuntil you have fulfilled his condition. Here is the King's warrant. In amoment your fetters may be shed, if so be your will, but it will be justas easy to tear up this sheet of paper. 

Olof. One who contents himself with 500 ducats is not likely to carevery much for a retraction--

Constable. That is a lie! The headsman is waiting for you. But praylisten to a few words from an old man. I, too, have been young, andmoved by strong passions. They belong to youth; but those passions aremeant to be killed. I did as you do. I went around telling the truth, and all I got in return was ingratitude, or, at the best, a smileof derision. I, too, wanted to build a little heaven here onearth--(speaking with marked emphasis) of course, on other foundationsthan yours--but soon I came to my senses, and the chimeras weresent packing. I have no desire to make you out a man wishing to gainnotoriety by getting himself talked about--I don't believe anything ofthe kind. You are moved by good intentions, but they are such as mustcause harm. Your blood is hot, and it blinds you because you exerciseno self-control. You preach freedom, and you are plunging thousandsinto the slavery of license. Retrace your steps, young man, and makeatonement for your errors! Restore what you have torn down, and yourfellow-men will bless you!

Olof (agitated to a point of desperation). It is the truth you speak; Ihear it, but who taught you to speak like that?

Constable. Experience--that which you lack!

Olof. Can I have lived and fought for a lie? Must I now declare my wholeyouth and the best part of my manhood lost, useless, wasted? Oh, let merather die together with my mistake!

Constable. You should have broken loose from your dreams earlier. Butcalm yourself! Your life is still ahead of you. The past has been aschool--hard, to be sure, but all the more wholesome. Hitherto you havegiven your life to whims and follies. Now you have some inkling of whatreality demands of you. Outside that door your creditors are waitingwith their claims. Here are their bills. The clergy of the young Churchdemand that you live to finish what you have begun so splendidly. TheCity Corporation demands its secretary for the Council. The congregationdemands its shepherd. The children of the confirmation class demandtheir teacher. Those are your legal creditors. But there is one morewaiting outside, to whom perhaps you owe more than all the rest, and whoyet demands nothing at all--your young wife. You have torn her from herfather's side and set her adrift in the storm. You have broken down herchildhood faith and filled her mind with restlessness. Your recklessdeeds have goaded the brutal mob into driving her out of her ownhome. Yet she does not even demand your love: all she asks of you ispermission to spend a life of suffering by your side. --Now you can seethat we, too, give a little consideration to other people, although youcall us selfish. --Let me open this door, which will lead you back intothe world. Discipline your heart before it hardens, and thank God forgranting you more time to work for mankind. 

Olof (breaking into tears). I am lost!

(Constable gives a sign to the Headsman, who removes the fetters and thegarb of penitence from Olof; then the Constable opens the door to thesacristy, and delegates from the lords, the clergy, and the city guildsenter. )

Constable. Olof Pedersson, formerly pastor of the city church atStockholm, do you hereby repent of your misdeeds and retract what youhave said beyond and against the King's order? Do you declare yourwillingness to keep your oath to the sovereign of this realm, and toserve him faithfully?

(Olof remains silent. Lars Pedersson and Christine approach him, whilemany of those present make pleading gestures. )

Olof (in a cold and determined voice). Yes!

Constable. In the name of the King, I set you free!

(Olof and Christine embrace. A number of persons come forward to presshis hand and utter words of congratulation. )

Olof (in the same cold voice). Before I leave this room, let me be alonea moment with my God. I need it! Once upon a time I struck the firstblow right here, and here--

Lars. Right here you have won your greatest victory this very day!

(All leave the room except Olof, who falls on his knees. )

[Enter Vilhelm cautiously. He looks very much surprised at seeing Olofalone and free. ]

Vilhelm. I come to bid you farewell, Master Olof, before you pass on toanother life. 

Olof (rising). You have not deserted me, Vilhelm! Help me, then, tomourn those happy moments of my youth that are now nothing but a memory!

Vilhelm. Before you die I want to thank you for all that you havedone for us. It was I who gave you those flowers, which you haven'tnoticed. --They have been trampled on, I see. I wanted to bring youa reminder of the days when we were playing under the lindens in theconvent close at Strängnäs. I thought it might do you good to hear thatwe have never thanked God, as you said we would, because you didn'treturn to us. We have never forgotten you, for it was you who relievedus of those cruel penances, and it was you who flung open the heavyconvent doors and gave us back our freedom and the blue sky and thehappiness of living. Why you must die, we do not know, but _you_ couldnever do anything wrong. And if you die because you have rendered helpto some of those that were oppressed, as they tell us, then you shouldnot be sorry, although it hurts very, very much. Once you told us howHus was burned because he had dared to tell the truth to those in power. You told us how he went to the stake and joyfully commended himself intothe hands of God, and how he prophesied about the swan that should comesinging new songs in praise of awakened freedom. That's the way I havethought that you would meet your death--with your head thrown back, andyour eyes toward the sky, and the people crying: "So dies a witness!"

(Olof leans against the pillory, his face showing how the words ofVilhelm strike home to him. )

Gert (his voice heard from a distant part of the church. ) Renegade!

(Olof sinks down overwhelmed at the foot of the pillory. )