LIBRARY 
 
 I UNIVERSITY ? ] 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
THIS series of SCANDINAVIAN CLASSICS is published 
 by The American Scandinavian Foundation in the 
 belief that greater familiarity with the chief literary 
 monuments of the North will help Americans to a 
 better understanding of Scandinavians, and thus serve 
 to stimulate their sympathetic cooperation to good ends 
 
SCANDINAVIAN CLASSICS 
 VOLUME IV 
 
 MASTER OLOF 
 
y by The ^American Scandinavian Foundation 
 
 3 /Ti * 
 
 LOAN STACK 
 
 2). . Updike The <Merrymount Tress 'Boston U. S. 
 
r l 
 A? 3 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 THE original prose version of Master Olof, which is 
 here presented for the first time in English form, was 
 written between June 8 and August 8, 1872, while Strind- 
 berg, then only twenty-three years old, was living with 
 two friends on one of the numerous little islands that lie 
 between Stockholm and the open sea. 
 
 Up to that time he had produced half-a-dozen plays, 
 one of which had been performed at the Royal Theatre 
 of Stockholm and had won him the good-will and finan- 
 cial support of King Carl XV. Thus he had been able to 
 return to the University of Upsala, whence he had been 
 driven a year earlier by poverty as well as by spiritual 
 revolt. During his second term of study at the old uni- 
 versity Strindberg wrote some plays that he subsequently 
 destroyed. In the same period he not only conceived the 
 idea later developed in Master Olof, but he also acquired 
 the historical data underlying the play and actually began 
 to put it into dialogue. 
 
 Duringthat same winterof 1871-72 he read extensively, 
 although his reading probably had slight reference to the 
 university curriculum. The two works that seem to have 
 taken the lion's share of his attention were Goethe's youth- 
 ful drama Goetz von Berlichingen and Buckle's History of 
 Civilization in England. Both impressed him deeply, and 
 both became in his mind logically connected with an ex- 
 ternal event which, perhaps, had touched his supersensitive 
 soul more keenly than anything else: an event concerning 
 which he says in the third volume of The Bondwoman s Son, 
 that " he had just discovered that the men of the Paris Com- 
 mune merely put into action what Buckle preached." 
 
 167 
 
vi INTRODUCTION 
 
 Such were the main influences at work on his mind 
 when, early in 1872, his royal protector died, and Strind- 
 berg found himself once more dependent on his own re- 
 sources. To continue at the university was out of the ques- 
 tion, and he seems to have taken his final departure from 
 it without the least feeling of regret. Unwise as he may 
 have been in other respects, he was wise enough to realize 
 that, whatever his goal, the road to it must be of his own 
 making. Returning to Stockholm, he groped around for 
 a while as he had done a year earlier, when he even tried 
 to eke out a living as the editor of a trade journal. Yet the 
 seeds sown within him during the previous winter were 
 sprouting. An irresistible impulse urged him to continue 
 the work of Buckle. History and philosophy were the ulti- 
 mate ends tempting his mind, but first of all he was im- 
 pelled to express himself in terms of concrete life, and the 
 way had been shown him by Goethe. Moved by Goethe's 
 example, he felt himself obliged to break through the sti- 
 fling forms of classical drama. "No verse, no eloquence, no 
 unity of place," was the resolution he formulated straight- 
 way.* 
 
 Having armed himself with a liberal supply of writ- 
 ing-paper, he joined his two friends in the little island of 
 Kymmendo. Of money he had so little that, but for the 
 generosity of one of his friends, he would have had to leave 
 the island in the autumn without settling the small debt 
 he owed for board and lodging. Yet those months were 
 happy indeed above all because he felt himself moved by 
 an inspiration more authentic than he had ever before ex- 
 perienced. Thus page was added to page, and act to act, 
 until at last, in the surprisingly brief time of two months, 
 
 * See again The Bondwoman's Son, vol. iii: In the Red Room. 
 
INTRODUCTION vii 
 
 the whole play was ready mighty in bulk and spirit, as 
 became the true firstling of a young Titan. 
 
 Strindberg had first meant to name his play "What Is 
 Truth?" For a while he did call it "The Renegade," but 
 in the end he thought both titles smacked too much of 
 tendency and decided instead, with reasoned convention- 
 alism, to use the title of Master O /of after its central figure, 
 the Luther of Sweden. 
 
 From a dramatic point of view it would have been hard to 
 pick a more promising 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 marked by three 
 parallel conflicts of equal intensity and interest: between 
 Swedish and Danish nationalism; between Catholicism 
 and Protestantism; and, finally, between feudalism and 
 a monarchism based more or less on the consent of the 
 governed. Its background was the long struggle for in- 
 dependent national existence in which the country had 
 become involved by its voluntary federation with Den- 
 mark and Norway about the end of the fourteenth century. 
 That struggle made necessary by the insistence of one 
 sovereign after another on regarding Sweden as a Danish 
 province rather than as an autonomous part of a united 
 Scandinavia had reached a sort of climax, a final mo- 
 ment of utter blackness just before the dawn, when, at 
 Stockholm in 1520, the Danish king, known ever after- 
 ward as Christian the Tyrant, commanded the arbitrary 
 execution of about eighty of Sweden's most representative 
 men. 
 
 Until within a few months of that event, named by the 
 horror-stricken people "the blood-bath of Stockholm," 
 the young Gustaf Eriksson Vasa had been a prisoner in 
 
viii INTRODUCTION 
 
 Denmark, sent there as a hostage of Swedish loyalty. Hav- 
 ing obtained his freedom by flight, he made his way to the 
 inland province of Dalecarlia, where most of the previous 
 movements on behalf of national liberty had originated, 
 and having cleared the country of foreign invaders, chiefly 
 by the help of an aroused peasantry that had never known 
 the yoke of serfdom, he was. elected king at a Riksdag held 
 in the little city of Strangnas, not far from Stockholm, in 
 
 1523- 
 
 Strangnas was a cathedral city and had for several years 
 previous been notorious for the Lutheran leanings of its 
 clergy. After the death of its bishop as one of the victims 
 of King Christian, its temporary head had been the arch- 
 deacon, the ambitious and learned Lars Andersson or 
 Laurentius Andreae, as, in accordance with the Latin- 
 izing tendency of the time, he was more frequently named. 
 One of its canons was Olof Pedersson also known as 
 Olaus Petri, and more commonly as Master Olof (Mas- 
 ter being the vernacular for Magister, which was the equiv- 
 alent of our modern Doctor) who, during two years 
 spent in studies at the University of Wittenberg, had been 
 in personal contact with Luther, and who had become 
 fired with an aspiration to carry the Reformation into his 
 native country. By recent historians Master Olof has been 
 described as of a "naively humble nature," rather melan- 
 choly in temperament, but endowed with a gift for irony, 
 and capable of fiery outbursts when deeply stirred. At 
 Strangnas he had been preaching the new faith more openly 
 and more effectively than any one else, and he had found 
 a pupil as well as a protector in the temporary head of the 
 diocese. 
 
 Immediately after his election, the new King called Lars 
 
INTRODUCTION ix 
 
 Andersson from Strangnas to become his first chancellor. 
 Later on, he pressed Olof, too, into his service, making him 
 Secretary to the City Corporation of Stockholm which 
 meant that Olof practically became the chief civil admin- 
 istrator of the capital, having to act as both clerk and magis- 
 trate, while at the same time he was continuing his re- 
 formatory propaganda as one of the preachers in the city's 
 principal edifice, officially named after St. Nicolaus, but 
 commonly spoken of as Greatchurch. As if this were not 
 sufficient for one man, he plunged also into a feverish liter- 
 ary activity, doing most of the work on the Swedish transla- 
 tions of the New and Old Testaments, and paving the way 
 for the new faith by a series of vigorous polemical writings, 
 the style of which proclaims him the founder of modern 
 Swedish prose. Centuries passed before the effective sim- 
 plicity and homely picturesqueness of his style were sur- 
 passed. He became, furthermore, Sweden's first dramatist. 
 The Comedy of Tobit, from which Strindberg uses a few 
 passages in slightly modernized form at the beginning 
 of his play, is now generally recognized as an authentic 
 product of Olofs pen, although it was not written until 
 a much later period. 
 
 Strindberg's drama starts at Strangnas, at the very mo- 
 ment when Olof has been goaded into open revolt against 
 the abuses of the Church, and when he is saved from the 
 consequences of that revolt only by the unexpected arrival 
 of King Gustaf and his own appointment as City Secre- 
 tary. From the slightly strained, but not improbable, coin- 
 cidence of that start to the striking climax of the last act, 
 the play follows, on the whole, pretty closely the actual 
 course of events recorded in history. To understand this 
 course, with its gradually intensified conflict between the 
 
x INTRODUCTION 
 
 King and Olof, it is above all necessary to bear in mind 
 that the former regarded the Reformation principally as a 
 means toward that political reorganization and material up- 
 building of the country which formed his main task; while 
 to Olof the religious reconstruction assumed supreme im- 
 portance. This fundamental divergence of purpose is clearly 
 indicated and effectively used by Strindberg, and we have 
 reason to believe that he has pictured not only Gustaf 
 Vasa and Master Olof, but also the other historical char- 
 acters, in close accordance with what history has to tell 
 us about them. Among the chief figures there is only one 
 Gert the Printer who is not known to history, and 
 one the wife of Olof who is so little known that the 
 playwright has been at liberty to create it almost wholly 
 out of his own imagination. 
 
 At the juncture represented by the initial scenes of the 
 play, Olof was in 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 is about fifty- 
 four, and Bishop Brask about seventy. Gert must be thought 
 a man of about sixty, while Christine must be about twenty. 
 The action of the play lasts from 1524 to 1540, but Strind- 
 berg has contracted the general perspective, so to speak, 
 giving us the impression that the entire action takes place 
 within a couple of years. I have tried to work out a com- 
 plete chronology, and think it fairly safe to date the sev- 
 eral parts of the play as follows : 
 
 The first act takes place on Whitsun Eve, 1524, which 
 means that the exact date must fall between May 10 and 
 June 13 of that year, and probably about June I. 
 
 The first scene of the second act occurs in the early 
 evening of a Saturday in the summer probably in June 
 
INTRODUCTION xi 
 
 of 1524. The second scene is fixed at midnight of the 
 same day, and the third scene on the following morning, 
 which, in view of the fact that Olof is to preach, we may 
 assume 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 maiden of good family," and it was 
 only during the winter of 1526-27 that the Church re- 
 formers were given free rein by the King, and Olof him- 
 self was despatched to the University of Upsala for the pur- 
 pose of challenging Peder Galle, the noted Catholic theo- 
 logian, to a joint discussion. This was also the time when 
 the first Swedish version of the New Testament was com- 
 pleted by Olof and Lars Andersson an event referred to 
 in the scene in question. 
 
 The exact date of the second scene of the third act is 
 St. John's Eve, or June 24, 15 27, at which time occurred 
 the important Riksdag at Vesteras, where the King broke 
 the final resistance of the nobility and the Catholic clergy 
 by threatening to abdicate. The debate between Olof and 
 Peder Galle took place at the Riksdag, Galle having evaded 
 it as long as he could. 
 
 The date of the fourth act is very uncertain, but it seems 
 safe to place it in the summer of 1539, when Stockholm 
 was ravaged by an epidemic of a virulent disease known as 
 "the English sweat." 
 
 The first scene of the fifth act is laid on New Year's 
 Eve, 1539, when Olof and Lars Andersson were arrested 
 and charged with high treason for not having informed the 
 proper authorities of a plot against the King's life. This 
 plot was an old story, having been exposed and punished 
 in 1536. Their defence was that they had learned of it 
 
xii INTRODUCTION 
 
 through secret confession, which they as ministers had no 
 right to reveal. The trial took only two days, and on Janu- 
 ary 2, 1540, both were sentenced to death. 
 
 The second scene of the final act must be laid in the 
 spring of 1540, as the ceremony of confirmation has gen- 
 erally taken place about Easter ever since the Swedish 
 church became Lutheran. 
 
 While, in the main, Strindberg made the events of his 
 play accord with what was accepted as historical fact when 
 he wrote, there are anachronisms and inaccuracies to be 
 noted, although to none of them can be attached much 
 importance. When, in the first and second acts, he repre- 
 sents the Anabaptist leaders, Rink and Knipperdollink, as 
 then in Stockholm and actually introduces one of them 
 on the stage, he has merely availed himself of a legend 
 which had been accepted as truth for centuries, and which 
 has been exploded only by recent historical research. We 
 know now that Rink and Knipperdollink could never have 
 been in Sweden, but we know also that a German lay 
 preacher named Melchior Hofman appeared at Stockholm 
 about the time indicated in the play, arid that, in 1529, 
 another such preacher, named Tilemann, made Olof him- 
 self the object of his fierce invectives. These instances 
 serve, in fact, to prove how skilfully Strindberg handled 
 his historical material. He is never rigid as to fact, but as 
 a rule he is accurate in spirit. Another instance of this 
 kind is found in the references in the first act to the use 
 of Swedish for purposes of worship. It is recorded and 
 by himself, I think that Olof once asked his mother 
 whether she really understood the 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 
 
INTRODUCTION xiii 
 
 to God that they may please Him, which I don't doubt 
 they do." 
 
 On the other hand, what may be regarded as rather an 
 awkward slip is found in the first scene of the fifth act, 
 where Gert cries exultantly to Olof: "You don't know 
 that Thomas Miinster has established a new spiritual king- 
 dom at Miihlhausen." The name of the great Anabaptist 
 "prophet" was Thomas Miinzer, and the place where he 
 established his brief reign was Miinster. Strindberg's habit 
 was to fill his head with the facts to be used, and then 
 to rely on his memory. Marvellous as his memory was, it 
 sometimes deceived him, and checking ofF names or dates 
 seems to have been utterly beyond him. Thus it is quite 
 probable that the passage in question represents an un- 
 conscious error. At the same time it is barely possible that 
 the mistake may have been purposely laid in the mouth of 
 a fanatic, from whom exactness of statement could hardly 
 be expected. Thus, in the first act, Gert remarks that 
 "Luther is dead." We understand, of course, that this 
 expression is metaphorical, signifying that Luther has 
 done all that can be expected of him, but it is nevertheless 
 characteristically ambiguous. 
 
 The second scene of the third act is apparently laid in 
 OloPs house at Stockholm, although the location of the 
 building is not definitely indicated. We find him waiting 
 for a messenger who is to announce the results of the Riks- 
 dag then in session. But the Riksdag was held at Vesteras, 
 and we know that Olof was one of two delegates sent by 
 the burghers and the peasants to the King, whom they 
 implored "on their knees and with tears" to withdraw 
 his abdication. The Courtier's reference to Olof's debate 
 with Galle renders it still more uncertain whether we are 
 
xiv INTRODUCTION 
 
 in Stockholm or in Vesteras. The Courtier also informs 
 Olof of his appointment as pastor of Greatchurch, the 
 facts being that Olof was not ordained until 1539 and re- 
 ceived his appointment a year after the events described 
 in the last act of the play. In the metrical version, Strind- 
 berg makes his most radical departure from the historical 
 course of events by letting Luther's marriage precede and 
 influence that of Olof, although in reality OloPs antici- 
 pated that of Luther by several months. 
 
 The complaints of the Man from Smaland in the first 
 scene of the second act could scarcely have been war- 
 ranted in 1524, when that act takes place. The hold of the 
 young King was far too precarious at that early date to 
 permit any regulations of the kind referred to. The estab- 
 lishment of a maximum price on oxen does not seem to 
 have occurred until 1532, and a prohibition against the 
 shooting of deer by the peasants was actually issued in 
 1538, both measures helping to provoke the widespread 
 uprising that broke out in Smaland in 1541. It was 
 narned the "Dacke feud" after its principal leader, the 
 peasant-chieftain Nils Dacke, to whom the Sexton refers 
 in the second scene of the last act also a little prema- 
 turely. 
 
 Whether these be conscious or unconscious anachro- 
 nisms, they matter very little when the general accuracy 
 of the play is considered. From the moment the Danes 
 had been driven out of the country, one of the most serious 
 problems confronting the King was the financial chaos 
 into which the country had fallen, and his efforts, first of 
 all to raise enough means for ordinary administrative pur- 
 poses, and secondly to reorganize trade and agriculture, 
 brought him almost immediately into conflict with the 
 
INTRODUCTION xv 
 
 peasants, who, during the long struggle for national inde- 
 pendence, had become accustomed to do pretty much as 
 they pleased. The utterances of the Man from Smaland 
 are typical of the sentiments that prevailed among the peas- 
 ants throughout the country, not least when he speaks 
 of the King's intention to "take away their priests and 
 friars," for the majority of the Swedish people were at 
 that time still intensely Catholic, and remained so to a large 
 extent long after the Reformation officially had placed 
 Sweden among Protestant countries. 
 
 Much more serious than any liberties taken with dates 
 or facts, I deem certain linguistic anachronisms, of which 
 Strindberg not rarely becomes guilty. Thus, for instance, 
 he makes the King ask Bishop Brask: "What kind of 
 phenomenon is this? "The phrase is palpably out of place, 
 and yet it has been used so deliberately that nothing was 
 left for me to do but to translate it literally. The truth is 
 that Strindberg was not striving to reproduce the actual 
 language of the period a language of which we get a 
 glimpse in the quotations from The Comedy of Tobit. Here 
 and there he used archaic expressions (which I have some- 
 times reproduced and sometimes disregarded, as the exi- 
 gencies of the new medium happened to require). At other 
 times he did not hesitate to employ modern colloquialisms 
 (most of which have been "toned down"). He did not 
 regard local color or historical atmosphere as a supreme 
 desideratum. He wanted to express certain ideas, and he 
 wanted to bring home the essential humanity of historical 
 figures which, through the operations of legendary history, 
 had assumed a strange, unhuman aspect. The methods he 
 employed for these purposes have since been made famil- 
 iar to the English-speaking public by the historical plays 
 
xvi INTRODUCTION 
 
 of Bernard Shaw and the short stories and novels of Ana- 
 tole France. 
 
 In his eagerness, however, to express what was burning 
 for utterance in his own breast, the second purpose was 
 sometimes lost sight of; and at such times Strindberg hesi- 
 tated as little to pass the bounds imposed by an historical 
 period as to break through the much more important limi- 
 tations of class and personal antecedents. Thus, for ex- 
 ample, the remarks of Olofs mother are at one moment 
 characterized by the simplicity to be expected from the 
 aged widow of a small city tradesman in the early part of 
 the sixteenth century, while in the next under the pres- 
 sure of the author's passion for personal expression they 
 grow improbably sophisticated. Yet each figure, when seen 
 in proper perspective, appears correctly drawn and strik- 
 ingly consistent with the part assigned to it in the play. In 
 his very indifference to minor accuracies, Strindberg some- 
 times approaches more closely to the larger truth than men 
 more scrupulous in regard to details. How true he can be 
 in his delineation of a given type is perhaps best shown by 
 the figure of Gert. The world's literature holds few por- 
 trayals of the anarchistic temperament that can vie with it 
 in psychological exactness, and it is as true to-day as it was 
 in 1524 or in 1872. 
 
 This verisimilitude on a universal rather than a specific 
 plane assumes still greater significance if we consider it 
 in the light of what Strindberg has told us about his pur- 
 pose with the main characters of his first great play. As 
 I have already said, those characters were meant to be 
 both mouthpieces of the author and revived historical fig- 
 ures, but they were also meant and primarily, I sus- 
 pect to be something else: embodiments of the contra- 
 
INTRODUCTION xvii 
 
 dictory phases of a single individual, namely the author 
 himself. 
 
 "The author meant to hide his own self behind the 
 historical characters," Strindberg tells us, apropos of this 
 very play.* "As an idealist he was to be represented by 
 Olof; as a realist by Gustaf; and as a communist by 
 Gert." Farther on in the same work, he continues his rev- 
 elation as follows: "The King and his shadow, the shrewd 
 Constable, represented himself [the author] as he wished 
 to be; Gert, as he was in moments of aroused passion; 
 and Olof, as, after years of self-scrutiny, he had come to 
 know himself: ambitious and weak-willed; unscrupulous 
 when something was at stake, and yielding at other times; 
 possessed of great self-confidence, mixed with a deep mel- 
 ancholy; balanced and irrational; hard and gentle." 
 
 Finally, he gives us this illuminating exposition of his 
 own views on the moral validity of the main characters, 
 thus disposing once for all of the one-sided interpretations 
 made by persons anxious to use this or that aspect of the 
 play in support of their own political or social idiosyncra- 
 sies: "All the chief characters are, relatively speaking, in 
 the right. The Constable, from the standpoint of his own 
 day, is right in asking Olof to keep calm and go on preach- 
 ing; Olof is right in admitting 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 Gert is right 
 in calling Olof a renegade. The individual must always 
 become a renegade forced by the necessity of natural 
 laws; by fatigue; by inability to develop indefinitely, as 
 the brain ceases to grow about the age of forty-five; and 
 
 * In one of his biographical novels, The Bondwoman s Son, vol. iii : In the Red 
 Room. 
 
xx INTRODUCTION 
 
 So he set about to re-write it and he did so not only 
 once but repeatedly, producing in all six versions that dif- 
 fer more or less from one another. At first he clung to the 
 prose form. Gradually he began to introduce verse, until 
 finally, in 1877 or 1878, he completed an almost new play, 
 where the metrical form predominated without being used 
 exclusively. This version was actually published in 1878. 
 Originally, an epilogue was appended to it, but this was 
 dropped from all but a small part of the first edition. It is 
 supposed to take place a number of years later than the 
 fifth act, and shows Olof with his two sons outside the 
 city walls of Stockholm, where they witness a miracle-play 
 introducing God as the principle of darkness and Lucifer 
 as the overthrown but never conquered principle of light. 
 The bitter generalizations of this afterthought explain suf- 
 ficiently why it was excluded. To the later Strindberg 
 the man who wrote Advent, for instance it must have 
 seemed one of his most unforgivable offences. 
 
 Although Strindberg's main object in working over his 
 play undoubtedly was to obtain its production, the metri- 
 cal version was not put on the stage until 1890, when, 
 however, it was performed at the Royal Theatre, toward 
 which its author had looked so longingly and so vainly 
 eighteen years earlier. The prose version, on the other 
 hand, was produced as early as 1881, at the New Theatre 
 in Stockholm, but was not published until the same year, 
 when it appeared in book form grouped with a number of 
 other writings from Strindberg's earliest period. 
 
 Of the five unprinted versions connecting the original 
 prose drama of 1872 with the final metrical form of 1878, 
 more or less complete manuscripts have been preserved, 
 and these are now being examined in detail by the Swed- 
 
INTRODUCTION xxi 
 
 ish literary historian, Professor Karl Warburg. A summary 
 analysis by Dr. John Landquist is appended to the second 
 volume of the definitive edition of Strindberg's complete 
 works (Albert Bonnier, Stockholm), where the epilogue to 
 the metrical version is also reprinted 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 dialogue has a 
 power and an incisiveness to which it does not attain in 
 any of the unprinted manuscripts. On the contrary, these 
 seem more youthful than the original, producing at times 
 an impression of immaturity and uncertainty on the part 
 of the author. Even when some isolated phrase strikes one 
 as fortunate, it does not tend to strengthen the drama as 
 a whole. The later versions lack that sense of inner unity 
 and that audacious touch which lend fascination and power 
 to the original manuscript. 
 
 "Not until we reach the first metrical version (of 1876) 
 does the full power of the playwright begin to reassert itself 
 in such fashion that out of his untiring labors at last springs 
 a new work, the mood of which differs essentially from 
 that of the first prose version. These two versions the 
 first and the final are the results of diametrically opposed 
 methods of work. The first was written with a certainty 
 and swiftness of inspiration that raised the young poet far 
 above the productive powers generally characteristic of 
 his years. The subsequent modifications prove merely how 
 futile are the efforts of reason to improve what intuition 
 has inspired. But gradually it seems to have dawned on 
 the poet that he was about to evolve a wholly new work 
 
xxii INTRODUCTION 
 
 that what he had come to aim at was quite distinct from 
 what he had been aiming at in the beginning, and from 
 that moment his artistic reasoning carried him onward 
 until at last a new inspiration brought the work to its com- 
 pletion." 
 
 Concerning the final metrical version, I can give only 
 a few outstanding and rather superficial facts, hoping that 
 I may some time, have the opportunity of presenting it 
 entire to the American public. Like the prose version, it 
 has five acts, but these are not subdivided into scenes. 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 figure like that of Marten, who in the metri- 
 cal version has become softened into an unconscionable 
 but rather lovable rapscallion. The last remark but one 
 made by Marten when driven from Dame Christine's death- 
 bed by Olof is: "Talk to your mother, son the two of 
 you have so much to forgive each other." 
 
 In strength and passion and daring, on the other hand, 
 the final version falls far short of the original one, and the 
 very fact that it is more logical, more carefully reasoned, 
 tends at times to render it less psychologically true. Each 
 version has its own merits and its own faults, and in their 
 appeal they are so radically different that a choice between 
 them must always remain meaningless except on tem- 
 peramental grounds. At one point, however and an im- 
 portant one at that -the metrical version seems to me 
 the happier by far. 
 
 That cry of "renegade," which, echoing from the dim 
 recesses of the church, makes the prose version end on a 
 note of perplexing irony, may be theatrically effective, but 
 
INTRODUCTION xxiii 
 
 it can hardly be called logical. Gert has been disposed of. 
 His sudden return out of the clutches of the soldiers is 
 inexplicable and unwarranted. Worse still, he has only a 
 short while previous been urging Olof to live on for his 
 work. If Olof be a renegade, he is so upon the advice of 
 Gert himself, and to call the concession made by Olof 
 for the saving of his own life far-reaching enough to ex- 
 plain Gert's sudden change of attitude approaches dan- 
 gerously near to quibbling. In the metrical version, on the 
 other hand, the same cry of "renegade" is quite logically 
 and suitably wrung from the lips of Vilhelm, the scholar 
 who is still dreaming of uncompromised ideals. But it is not 
 the final word. This comes from Olof, 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 to my 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 PERSONS 
 
 OLOF PEDERSSON (Olaus Petri), generally known as MASTER 
 
 OLOF. 
 
 GERT THE PRINTER. 
 
 GUSTAF ERIKSSON VASA, King of Sweden. 
 HANS BRASK, Bishop of Linkbping. 
 MANS SOMMAR, Bishop ofStrdngnds. 
 LARS SIGGESON, Lord High Constable. 
 
 LARS ANDERSSON (Laurentius Andrea?) , Lord High Chancellor. 
 LARS PEDERSSON (Laurentius Petri), brother of Master Olof. 
 HANS WINDRANK, a Master Mariner. 
 A Man from Sm aland. 
 A German. 
 A Dane. 
 
 MARTEN") D/ , r . 
 
 \Black Friars. 
 NILS J 
 
 A Tavern-keeper. 
 
 A Burier. 
 
 First Scholar. 
 
 Second Scholar. 
 
 The Sexton at St. Nicolaus (or Create hurch). 
 
 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 Strdngnds. 
 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 quad- 
 rangle. A brick wall runs along the rear. Fruit trees in blos- 
 som appear above the wall. Olof is seated on a stone bench. 
 Before him stand two scholars, who are reading their respec- 
 tive 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 Anders son. 
 
 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 the Babylonian 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 stands looking at Olof; then he begins to read). "Then the 
 
4 MASTER OLOF 
 
 word of the Lord came unto Jeremiah : c Before I formed 
 thee in the belly I knew thee; and before thou earnest forth 
 out of the womb I sanctified thee, and I ordained thee a 
 prophet unto the nations.' 
 
 "Then said Jeremiah: c Ah, Lord God! behold, I can- 
 not speak, for I am a child.' 
 
 "But the Lord said: 'Say not, I am a child; for thou 
 shalt go to all that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I com- 
 mand thee thou shalt speak. For, behold, I have made thee 
 this day a defenced city, and an iron pillar, and brazen 
 walls against the whole land, against the kings of Judah, 
 against the princes thereof, against the priests thereof, and 
 against the people of the land. And they shall fight against 
 thee; but they shall not prevail against thee; for I am with 
 thee,' saith the Lord, c 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 them all 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 the Lord 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 were trying to read the 
 devil out of my body. 
 
 Lars. That was a fire of straw which had to flicker out; 
 but now the Lord will light you a fire of logs by which 
 the offspring of the Philistines shall be consumed. Do you 
 know your own will, Olof? 
 
 Olof. No, but I feel myself choking when I think of 
 
ACT FIRST 5 
 
 these poor people who yearn for salvation. They are cry- 
 ing for water for living water but there is no one who 
 can give it to them. 
 
 Lars. Tear down the crumbling old house first, you can 
 do that. Then the Lord 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 the elders. 
 
 Lars. Are you afraid? 
 
 Olof. No but the offence 
 
 Lars. You were born to give offence, Olof; you were 
 born to smite. The Lord will heal. 
 
 Olof. I can feel the pull of the current; I am still cling- 
 ing to the sluice-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 the whirlpool. 
 
 Lars. That is not in my power, and into the whirlpool 
 you must go, even if it be to perish. 
 
 Olof. What storms you have raised in my soul ! A mo- 
 ment ago I sat here and played in the shadow of the trees, 
 and it was Whitsun Eve, and it was spring, and all was 
 peace. And now how can the trees be still, and why is 
 there no darkness in the sky? Put your hand on my fore- 
 head, feel the blood surging! Do not abandon me, Lars! 
 I see an angel coming towards me with a cup she is walk- 
 
6 MASTER OLOF 
 
 ing across the evening sky her path is blood-red, and in 
 her hand she is carrying a cross No, it is more than I 
 avail! I will return to my peaceful valley. Let others fight; 
 I will look on No, I will follow in their wake and heal 
 the wounded and whisper words of peace into the ears of 
 the dying Peace! No, I want to fight 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 strong- 
 est of all is by your 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 can be. Your weapon is the pure Word of God, 
 and with that you must arm the people. For the doors to 
 the popish armory have been broken open at last, and here- 
 after every one calling himself a man must fight for the 
 freedom of his own spirit. 
 
 Olof. But where is the enemy? I am burning for battle, 
 yet see no one to fight against. 
 
 Lars. No need to summon them; they will come! Fare- 
 well! You may begin whenever 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. 
 
ACT FIRST 7 
 
 (y/ crowd of townsmen with their women and children pass 
 across the stage to the church door at the right. They stop in front 
 of it, bare their heads, and make the sign of the cross.) 
 
 Gert the Printer (disguised as a townsman). It's Whitsun 
 Eve, and nobody has 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 be saying 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 towards Lutherism. Bishop Hans of Linkoping 
 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 door to see if it be really closed. 
 
 Gert (runs up the steps and beats the church door with his 
 fist). The house of God is closed this Whitsun Eve. The rev- 
 erend clergy will grant no audience with the Lord to-day, 
 and so the worshipful commonalty will have 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, as it is lined with copper. Just take a look at this 
 door! If I say that the Lord is living within this being 
 His house; and if I say that the bishop's diaconus, or secre- 
 tarius, or canonicus, or some other fellow ending in us for 
 
8 MASTER OLOF 
 
 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 nail in his bedroom : then I don't mean to say that he 
 has locked up the Lord and put the key on a nail in his 
 bedroom but all I mean to say is that we can't get in, 
 and that there will be no divine service for us to-night 
 for us who have toiled six days making shoes and coats 
 who have spent the whole week brewing and baking and 
 butchering for the reverend clergy in order that the said 
 clergy might have strength enough on the seventh day 
 to celebrate divine service for us. Of course, I am not at 
 all saying this in reproach of the right reverend mem- 
 bers of this Chapter; for they, too, are nothing but human 
 beings, you know, and it was only the Lord who could 
 stand working six days and be satisfied with resting on the 
 seventh. 
 
 Townsman. You're blaspheming God, master towns- 
 man! 
 
 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 is writ in the Bible that once upon a time the 
 veil before the Holiest of Holies was rent in twain, and it 
 must be true but nothing is said in the Bible about the 
 clerical gentlemen having sewed the veil together again, 
 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 that the very children cry out 
 at the sight of you, unclean spirit that you are? 
 
ACT FIRST 9 
 
 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 protec- 
 tion 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 her consecrated 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 Holy Father. 
 
 Woman. Drag him away from that door! It is his un- 
 clean spirit that has cast 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 Secre- 
 tary enters, preceded by a verger, who calls upon the people to 
 attend.} 
 
 Secretary (reading). "Whereas our cathedral city has 
 failed in the payment of its tithes to this See, and whereas 
 it continues refractory in regard to such payments, the 
 Chapter has deemed it necessary, in accordance with its 
 vested rights and the sanction granted by the Holy Curia, 
 to close the doors of the church and to discontinue all 
 masses and sacrifices until the aforesaid dereliction shall 
 have been duly remedied; failure to observe which shall 
 be at the risk of our displeasure. Datum vigilia assump- 
 tionis Mariae. Chapter of Strangnas." [Exit. 
 
 Gert. What do you say to that, good folk ? 
 
 Townsman. No mass on Whitsun Eve? That 's a shame! 
 
io MASTER OLOF 
 
 Gert. Take care ! Say nothing evil of the priests; maybe 
 they 're not to blame. 
 
 Townsman. Who is to blame, then ? 
 
 Gert. The Church ! That invisible and omnipotent some- 
 thing! It is the Church, you see, that has closed the church. 
 (The crowd gives evidence of disapproval.} 
 
 Olof (who in the meantime has come forward, seizes a rope 
 hanging from the bell tower, and begins to ring vespers). If 
 your worship be seriously meant, I '11 say mass for you. 
 
 Townsman. Many thanks, Master Olof, but are you 
 aware of what that may lead to ? 
 
 Olof. Let us fear the Lord more than men! (The crowd 
 kneels.} Dear friends ! Brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus ! 
 As we are now come together here 
 
 Townsman. Master Olof 
 
 Olof. What is it? 
 
 Townsman. \Ve 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 understand what you say. 
 
 Townsman. It has to be in the sacred tongue or any- 
 body 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 much of the world, and I 
 mean well by you Turn back while you are still young! 
 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 spirit and in truth, and not in words ye do not 
 understand. 
 
ACT FIRST ii 
 
 Townsman. Don't you think, my young friend, that the 
 Lord understands Latin ? 
 
 Gert. But Swedish He does n't understand at all ! 
 
 Townsman. Master Olof, are you going to let the people 
 depart from you without a word to edify them? Can't you 
 see how they are yearning for their God ? Make a sacrifice 
 of your own sinful will, and don't let the people 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 cost me? 
 
 Townsman. Your vanity. 
 
 Gert. And your peace ! For it was the alarum bell that 
 rang in the battle. Hey -ho, this is the start ! Soon the bells 
 of Stockholm will respond, and then the blood of Hus, and 
 of Ziska, and of all the thousands of peasants will be on 
 the heads of the princes and the papists. 
 
 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 these miserable creatures who do not want their own 
 welfare and who have never heard the word " freedom" ? 
 
 Olof. What is your name? 
 
 Gert. If I told, you would all tremble. Yet you must 
 tremble in order that you may wake out of your sleep. I 
 am named the angel that was cast out and that is to come 
 again ten thousand times; I am named the liberator that 
 came too early; I am named Satan because I love you more 
 than my own life; I have been named Luther; I have been 
 named Hus. Now I am named Anabaptist! 
 
12 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Crowd (shrink back and begin to cross themselves). Ana- 
 baptist ! 
 
 Gert (removing his disguise and revealing himself as much 
 older than he had 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 bear company 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 those words! 
 
 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 own country. 
 
 Gert. Is that all ? 
 
 Olof. What do you mean? 
 
 Gert. It is not enough! Luther is dead. He made a be- 
 ginning, we have to go on. 
 
 Olof. Whither do you want to lead me? 
 
 Gert. Far, Olof, very far ! 
 
 Olof. I am afraid of you, Father Gert. 
 
ACT FIRST 13 
 
 Gert. Yes, and will be more so; for I shall take you up 
 on a high mountain, and from there you shall overlook 
 the whole world. You see, Olof, it is now Whitsuntide; 
 it was at this time the Holy Ghost came down and filled 
 the Apostles nay, all humanity. The spirit of the Lord 
 has descended upon me. I feel it, and for that reason they 
 shut me up like one demented. But now I am free again, 
 and now I shall speak the word; for now, Olof, we are 
 standing on the mountain. Behold the people crawling 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 thun- 
 derbolt, and a thousand souls pass into perdition, while 
 the rest kiss his foot and sing Gloria Deo but he who is 
 seated on the throne turns about and smiles. Now behold 
 his companion. He has a sword and a sceptre. Bow down 
 before the sceptre, lest the sword smite you. When he 
 knits his brows all the people tremble. He turns toward 
 the man on the other throne, and both smile. They are 
 two pillars of Baal. Then is heard a sound out of heaven as 
 of a host muttering. "Who is grumbling?" exclaims the 
 Pope, shaking his thunderbolt. "Who is muttering?" 
 and the Emperor shakes his sword. Nobody answers, but 
 still there is grumbling in the air, and roaring, and a cry 
 of "Think!" The Pope cowers, and the Emperor, turn- 
 ing pale, demands: "Who was it that cried 'Think'? Bring 
 him here, and I will take his life!" The Pope shouts: 
 "Bring him here, and I will take his soul!" The cry came 
 out of heaven, and was uttered by no one. But still the 
 sound of it rises; a storm wind springs up; it sweeps over 
 the Alps and goes roaring across Fichtelgebirge; it stirs 
 up the Baltic and echoes from the shores, and the cry is 
 
14 MASTER OLOF 
 
 repeated a thousand times all over the world: "Freedom, 
 freedom ! " The Pope throws his keys into the sea, and the 
 Emperor sheathes his sword, for against that cry they avail 
 nothing. Oh, Olof, you wish to smite the Pope, but 
 you forget the Emperor the Emperor, who is killing his 
 people without counting them because they dare to sigh 
 when he tramples on their chests. You want to smite the 
 Pope at Rome, but, like Luther, you want to give them 
 a new pope in Holy Writ. Listen ! Listen ! Bind not the 
 spirits with any fetters whatsoever! 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 king- 
 dom of liberty, will never arrive and it is that which is 
 now beginning. ( Olof remains 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 '11 bring disaster on your- 
 self and on the realm. Can't you see how the country is 
 still shivering with the wound-fever caused by the last 
 war? And you wish to sow the seeds of civil war. It is a 
 godless deed! 
 
 Gert. No, the knife is in the flesh now. Cut away, and 
 the body may be saved. 
 
 Olof. I'll denounce you as a traitor to your country. 
 
 Gert. You had better not, seeing that to-day you have 
 offended the Church beyond repair. Besides 
 
 Olof. Speak out, Gert. Just now you look like Satan 
 himself! 
 
ACT FIRST 15 
 
 Gert. You shall have my secret : deal with it to suit your- 
 self. The King leaves for Malmo 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 noth- 
 ing but a couple of lubberly tradesmen. A furrier and a 
 grocer, who deny the use of baptizing unconscious chil- 
 dren, and who are simple-minded enough to oppose 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 cry- 
 ing through them. 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 liv- 
 ing 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 protected for my daughter's sake; and if the Catho- 
 lics win, my daughter will be protected for your mother's 
 sake. You are a little concerned about Christine, are you 
 not? 
 
 Olof. Gert, Gert, what made you so wise ? 
 
 Gert. The madhouse. 
 
 Olof. Go away from me ! You '11 lead me into disaster. 
 
 Gert. Yes, if you call it a disaster to be robbed of all 
 
1 6 MASTER OLOF 
 
 earthly happiness, to be dragged into prison, to suffer pov- 
 erty, to be scorned and reviled for the sake of truth. If so, 
 you are not worthy of such a splendid disaster. I thought 
 you would understand me, I counted on your help, for in 
 you the fire is still burning, but I see that the world is 
 tempting 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 stagnant mudpools, you don't need to check them, 
 but don't let them rot away or dry up; give them an out- 
 let, and they '11 flow with the stream, too. 
 
 Olof. Yes, I understand you ! You have bred a thought 
 in my soul, but that 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 truth unto princes, and they will conspire to 
 take your life; but the Lord will protect you. Now I can 
 safely leave, for I see lightnings flash from your eyes and 
 tongues of fire flickering over your head. (As he is leaving.} 
 There comes the Lord of Flies : don't let him defile your 
 pure soul also. 
 
 Olof. Jesus help me ! 
 
 Enter Bishop Brask and Bishop Sommar. Sommar approaches 
 ) while Brask 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. 
 
ACT FIRST 17 
 
 Sommar. And you dared to defy it ? 
 
 Olof. Yes, when the people were let go like sheep with- 
 out a shepherd, I wanted to keep them together. 
 
 Sommar. You seem to be finding fault with our actions. 
 That 's impudence indeed. 
 
 Olof. Truth is always impudent. 
 
 Sommar. I believe, young man, that you want to play 
 the part of an apostle 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 market very long. 
 
 Olof (impetuously}. That's advice worthy of the Father 
 of Lies! (Mildly.} I ask your pardon! 
 
 Sommar. Do you know to whom you are talking? 
 
 Olof (heatedly). To servus servi servorum Mans 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 bows and looks fixedly at Brask.} I like you. Would you 
 care to become my secretary ? 
 
 Olof. Many thanks, Your Grace, but I have no recom- 
 mendations. 
 
 Brask. What have you to say, Bishop Mans? 
 
 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 
 
1 8 MASTER OLOF 
 
 canonicus here has strong leanings toward heresy, and 
 to-day he has dared to defy our orders. 
 
 Brask. Is that so? 
 
 Sommar. On fully legal grounds we have proclaimed an 
 interdict, and this man has ventured to say mass worse 
 than that, he has said a Lutheran mass, and thus stirred 
 up the people. 
 
 Brask. Take care, young man ! Don't you know that 
 the ban will fall on anybody 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 doctor- 
 ing of your sick cause, 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. You put 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 Lu- 
 theran writings in place of the anti-Lutheran stuff I put 
 into his hands. Moreover, he was dreaming of the Apoca- 
 lypse and the Millennium. (To Olof.) Have you seen him ? 
 
 Olof. He was here awhile ago, and you can expect but 
 little good of him. 
 
 Brask. Is he at large? 
 
 Olof. He '11 be in Stockholm soon, and from there you '11 
 hear of him, I think. Take care, my Lord Bishop! 
 
 Brask. Ho, there is nothing to fear yet. 
 
ACT FIRST 19 
 
 Olof. The Anabaptists are in Stockholm. 
 Brask. What do you say? 
 Olof. The Anabaptists are in Stockholm! 
 Brask. The Anabaptists? 
 
 Enter Gust of Vasa suddenly. 
 
 Gustaf. What's up? The city is in a tumult, the people 
 are marching through the streets crying for the mass. 
 What's the meaning of all this? 
 
 Brask. Mischief, Your Highness. 
 
 Gustaf. Bishop Mans! 
 
 Sotrimar. 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 Mans! 
 
 Sommar.Your Highness ought to remember that matters 
 like these, which fall 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 on them? 
 
 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? 
 
20 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Olof. Olof Pedersson. 
 
 Gustaf. Master Olof! They tell me you are a heretic, 
 and that you are scheming against Holy Church! That's 
 a perilous venture! 
 
 Brask. This very day he has dropped his mask by daring 
 to show open defiance of the Chapter's prohibition against 
 services, and for that reason we demand that Your High- 
 ness consent to have him duly punished. 
 
 Gitstaf. That 's a matter for the Chapter and does not 
 concern me. (To Olof.) 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 carrying on in Germany? We suggest that Your 
 Highness return to the city in person 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 the clerkship of our court-house at Stockholm. Get 
 over there at once. Speak to the people. I put my trust in 
 you! 
 
 Brask. For the country's sake I ask Your Highness to 
 consider the futility of wasting speech on madmen. 
 
 Gustaf. Souls are not controlled by swords. Bear that 
 in mind, Your Lordships. 
 
 Brask. The Church has never 
 
 Gustaf. Nor by keys! (To Olof.) Go to my chancellor, 
 and he will give you your appointment. 
 
 Brask. You had better wait a moment, canonicus. 
 
 Gustaf. Our secretary will not put your orders ahead of 
 mine. 
 
ACT FIRST 21 
 
 Brask. The rights of the Church must be assured first 
 of all. Olof Pedersson 
 
 Gust af (correcting him]. Secretary 
 
 Brask. Secretary Olof Pedersson cannot leave this city 
 until the Chapter has pronounced its verdict. 
 
 Gustaf. The Chapter must try the case before it can pro- 
 nounce a verdict. 
 
 Brask. That's our concern. 
 
 Gustaf. It is not yourconcern, Bishop Brask. The Bishop 
 of Linkoping cannot sit in judgment on a canonicus at 
 Strangnas. 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 am talking privately to Bishop Sommar pri- 
 vately! Well, speak up, Bishop Mans! 
 
 Sommar. I cannot see but that as His Grace, the 
 Bishop of Linkoping 
 
 Gustaf. We are talking of Master Olof now. Your Lord- 
 ships will have to postpone 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 the left 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 until then stand on your own feet as far as 
 you can. 
 
 Olof. What is Your Highness' will? 
 
22 MASTER OLOF 
 
 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 far yet, Let them preach. It can't hurt those sottish 
 spirits to hear a new word, even if it be not all true. But 
 there must be no violence; for then the sword will join 
 in the game. Farewell, Olof! [#//. 
 
 Olof (alone). So the Emperor won't be friends with the 
 Pope! 
 
 (The two scholars, who have been waiting among the trees 
 in the background, 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 perform our comedy? 
 
 Second Scholar. And so that I can play the Angel Ga- 
 briel? 
 
 First Scholar. Please do as we ask you, Master Olof! 
 You are the only one 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 come when 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-taking brief. 
 Good-bye, Nils! Good-bye, Vilhelm ! 
 
 (He embraces them, and they kiss his hand. In the meantime 
 Lars Anders son has entered and is watching the group closely.) 
 
ACT FIRST 23 
 
 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 seen whether 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 Whitsun- 
 tide. 
 
 Lars (taking hold of Olofs arm). Child ! 
 Olof (with a start). What did you say? 
 Lars. I thought you had laid your hand so firmly on the 
 plough handle to-day that there could be no question of 
 looking back. (Olof waves his hand 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. When they are nearly out, Olof 
 turns for a last look at the scholars. These have disap- 
 peared in the meantime, and in their place appear the two 
 Black Friars, Marten and Nils. On seeing them, Olof 
 utters a startled cry and puts one hand to his forehead. 
 Lars drags him out. 
 
ACT II 
 
 SCENE i 
 
 A Room in the Foundation Wall of the Church of St. Nicolaus 
 at Stockholm (generally known as Great church), used as a beer- 
 shop. A bar full of pots and mugs occupies the background. To 
 the right of the bar stands a table, back of which appears an 
 iron door. Two disguised friars (Marten and Niti\ are seated 
 at this table drinking beer. The other tables are surrounded by 
 German mercenaries, peasants, and sailors. The door to the street 
 is at the right. A fiddler is seated on top of a barrel. The soldiers 
 are throwing dice. All are drunk and noisy. Hans Windrank, 
 a man from Smaland,a German tradesman, and a Dane are 
 seated together at one of the tables. 
 
 German (to the Dane). So you defend a bloodthirsty brute 
 like Christian? 
 
 Dane. Oh, mercy, he's human, is n't he? 
 
 German. No, he 's a monster ! A bloodthirsty brute ! A 
 treacherous, cowardly Dane ! 
 
 Dane. Zounds! But you'd better not talk of blood. Do 
 you remember the massacre on Kappling Island, when the 
 Germans 
 
 Windrank. Listen to me, good Sirs! Let's be friends 
 now, and have some fun, and I'll tell you about Americky. 
 
 German. Are you going to blame us of Liibeck for what 
 the Germans did? 
 
 Dane. Oh, mercy, I was talking of the Germans only 
 
 Windrank. Listen, good Sirs, what's the use of quarrel- 
 ling? (To the Tavern-keeper.} Four noggins of gin! Now 
 let's be calm and agreeable, and I '11 tell you of Americky. 
 (They are served?) 
 
ACT SECOND 25 
 
 German (sipping). A noble drink ! Think of it, good Sirs, 
 how everything is advancing. To-day the grain is growing 
 in the field 
 
 Windrank. And to-morrow it's made into wine. I won- 
 der who first found out how it's done? 
 
 German. Beg your pardon, but that 's a German in- 
 vention. I call it invention, because you discover Amer- 
 icky. 
 
 Windrank. And the Germans never make any discov- 
 eries ? 
 
 German. 'Sdeath! 
 
 Windrank. Now, now! You're no German, you said. 
 
 Dane (to the German). Can you tell me who invented 
 the story that the Swedes got their present king from the 
 Germans? (General laughter?) 
 
 German. It was we of Liibeck who gave Sweden a lib- 
 erator when she was on the verge of ruin. 
 
 Windrank. Here's to the King! 
 
 Dane. Here's to Liibeck! 
 
 German {flattered}. Really I don't know how to 
 
 Windrank. Why, you are n't the King ! 
 
 German. Beg your pardon, but it was my Danish broth- 
 er's 
 
 Dane. How can you be of Liibeck when you are a citizen 
 of Stockholm ? 
 
 Windrank (to the Man from Smaland}. Why won't our 
 silent brother drink at all? 
 
 Man from Smdland. I '11 drink your corn-juice, but when 
 it comes to the King's health, I do like this ! (He crushes the 
 tin cup and throws it on the floor?) 
 
 Windrank (groping with one hand for his sheath knife). 
 You won't drink the King's health? 
 
26 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Man from Smdland. I 've been drinking the cup he of- 
 fered me so long that I 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! 
 
 Man from Smdland. The Lord help me when I get home 
 again ! 
 
 Windrank (sentimentally}. What is it, my dear man? 
 Why do you look so sad ? Do you need money ? Look here, 
 now! (He pulls out his purse?) I've half my wages left. 
 What's the matter with you? 
 
 Man from Smdland. Don't let us talk about it. More gin ! 
 Gin here ! I 've money, too. Do you see ? Gold! (The liquor is 
 served.} It is n't mine, but I '11 spend it on drink to the last 
 farthing, and you '11 please help me. 
 
 Windrank. And yet it is n't your money how can you 
 do that? 
 
 German. Who's wronged you, my dear fellow? I can 
 see that you have fared badly. 
 
 Man from Smdland. I am ruined ! You see, I got two 
 hundred oxen on trust, and when I came to Stockholm the 
 King's agent took charge of the whole business, and he 
 said I could n't sell them for more than he allowed. It 's the 
 King that fixes the price on oxen it's the King that has 
 ruined me. 
 
 German. You don't say! 
 
 Man from Smdland. Oh, I know a lot more. He means 
 to take the priests and the monks away from us in order to 
 give everything to the gentlefolk. 
 
 Dane. To the gentlefolk ? 
 
ACT SECOND 27 
 
 Man from Smaland. Exactly! I wish King Christian 
 God bless him! had cut off a few more heads. 
 
 Windrank. Well, is the King like that? I thought he had 
 those noble fellows by the ear. 
 
 Man from Smaland. He? No, he lets them be born with 
 the right to cut oak on my ground, if I had any. For I did 
 have a patch of land once, you see, but then came a lord 
 who said that my great-grandmother had taken it all in loan 
 from his great-grandfather, and so there was an end to that 
 story. 
 
 German. Why, is the King like that ? I would never have 
 believed it. 
 
 Man from Smaland. Indeed he is ! Those high-born brats 
 run around with their guns in our woods and pick off the 
 deer out of sheer mischief, but if one of us peasants were 
 dying from hunger and took a shot at one of the beasts 
 well, then he wouldn't have to starve to death, for they'd 
 hang him but not to an oak Lord, no! That would be 
 a shame for such a royal tree. No, just to an ordinary pine. 
 The pine, you see, has no crown, 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 pines. 
 
 It has nothing to say about crowns, mind you. 
 
 German. But the pine carries its head high just the same, 
 and its back is straight. 
 
 Man from Smaland. Drink, good Sirs! You're right wel- 
 come to 't. It's a blessed 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 to keep it 
 to myself, too. 
 
28 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Windrank. What do you know? 
 
 German. Maybe it's something diverting? 
 
 Man from Smaland. You see if you counted all the 
 pines of Smaland, I think 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 what he is doing or saying, and it is n't my 
 business either, but I know he takes good care of the ship- 
 ping trade. Yes, it's he who has put ships on the Spanish 
 trade, and who has made me a skipper, and so I've got no 
 fault to find with him. 
 
 German. He has done it out of sheer deviltry, just to 
 hurt the trade of Liibeck of Liibeck, to which he owes 
 such a great debt! 
 
 Man from Smaland. Well, he'll get what he deserves! 
 A steer does n't lose his horns when you make an ox 
 of him. Many thanks for your company. Now I've got 
 to go. 
 
 German. Oh, no! Just one more noggin and then we 
 can talk a little more. 
 
 Man from Smaland. No, thanks, though I'm sure it's 
 good of you, but that's all I dare take, for otherwise I fear 
 this will end badly. I've wife and children at home, you 
 see, and now I'm going home to tell them we're ruined 
 no I don't dare to I 'm much obliged, Mr. German 
 let's drink some more. 
 
 German. That's right! (They drink.} 
 
 Man from Smaland (emptying his cup and jumping up}. 
 Oh, damn the bitter stuff! [Exit, staggering. 
 
 German (to the Dane). O Lord when that fellow wakes 
 up! 
 
ACT SECOND 29 
 
 ( The Dane nods assent. The noise has been steadily increasing. 
 The fiddler is playing. Then the organ begins to play in the 
 church?) 
 
 Windrank. It's strange, I think, that the King lets them 
 have a drinkshop in the church wall. 
 
 German. Does it hurt your conscience, skipper? The 
 King does n't know it, you see. 
 
 Windrank. But they don't go together, the organ music 
 and the singing in here. 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 a mother 
 
 Windrank (moved}. Yes yes! 
 
 German. Who tucked you up nights and taught you to 
 say: "Now I lay me down 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 you only knew ! 
 
 German. The Lord has heard her prayers. You 're weep- 
 ing. So you must be a good man. 
 
 Dane. Dear me! 
 
 German. If your mother could only see you now with 
 those tears in your eyes ! 
 
 Windrank. Oh, I know I 'm a poor miserable sinner 
 I know it! But I tell you I 've got a heart, damn it! 
 Just let a poor wretch come and tell me he is hungry, and 
 I '11 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, 
 causing general excitement^) 
 
30 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Windrank. God-a-mercy ! 
 
 German. Don't get scared. That 's not the gate of heaven. 
 
 Windrank. I '11 never drink another drop I vow and 
 swear! 
 
 German (to the Dane). What a blessed drink gin must 
 be, seeing it can move a rogue like that to sentimentality 
 nay, even to thoughts of sobriety. 
 
 Dane. You 're right. There is nothing like it. 
 
 German. It opens the heart wide and closes the head. 
 Which means that it makes good people of us, for those 
 are called good, you know, who have much 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 Marten 
 and Nils are seated is upset together with the mugs and cups 
 on it. A woman wearing a red and black skirt, with a nun s 
 veil thrown over her head, comes running into the room. For 
 a moment Gert can be seen in the doorway behind her, but the 
 door is immediately closed again?) 
 
 Harlot (with a startled glance at her surroundings]. Save 
 me! The people want to kill me! 
 
 A German Mercenary. A harlot under a nun's veil! Ha- 
 ha-ha! (General laughter?) 
 
 Marten (making the sign of the cross). A harlot ! Who dares 
 
ACT SECOND 31 
 
 to bring her into this respectable company? Master tav- 
 erner, take her out of here, or she '11 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 has seized her by the arm to lead her into the 
 street?) Don't give me into the hands of that furious mob ! 
 I wanted to steal into the Lord's house that I might share 
 in His grace I wanted to start a new life but the monks 
 drove me out and set the people on me until Father Gert 
 came and saved me. 
 
 Marten. 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 is n't enough of the veil. 
 
 Marten (approaching the woman to tear the veil from her 
 face}. Off with the mask, and let your abomination be seen 
 by all! (He draws back when he catches sight of her face?) 
 
 Harlot. So it's you, Marten you murderer! 
 
 German. Old chums! 
 
 Marten. That's a shameless lie! I never have seen her 
 before. I am Brother Marten, of the Dominicans, and Bro- 
 ther Nils here can be my witness. 
 
 Nils (intoxicated"). I can testify that Brother Marten 
 has never seen this woman. 
 
 Harlot. And yet it was you, Nils, who showed me Mar- 
 ten's letter of absolution when I was driven out of the con- 
 vent and he was permitted to stay. 
 
 Nils. Yes come to think of it! 
 
 Marten (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! 
 
32 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Crowd (with signs of disgust). A drunken priest! 
 
 German. Well, booze is absolution for lying. Is n't that 
 so, Father Marten? 
 
 Tavern-keeper. Really, I can't let my house be the meet- 
 ing-place for any kind of disturbance. If this goes on, I '11 
 lose my customers and get hauled before the Chapter. 
 Won't you please take away that miserable creature who 's 
 causing all this noise? 
 
 Marten. Take her out, or I'll have you all banned! 
 Don't you know that we are now within the consecrated 
 walls of the church, although the Chapter allows this out- 
 house to be used for the material refreshment of travellers ? 
 
 German. Surely this room is holy, good folk, and surely 
 the Lord doth dwell 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 until he reaches the Harlot, whose hand he takes so that 
 he can pull her away from the drunken men about her. 
 
 Olof. Answer me who is this woman? 
 
 Marten. She 's no woman. 
 
 Olof. What do you mean? 
 
 Marten. She is no man either, although she 's disguised. 
 
 Olof. "She," you say and yet not a woman? 
 
 Marten. She's a harlot. 
 
 Olof (shocked, drops the woman's hand]. A harlot! 
 
 German. Don't let go of her, Master Olof, or she '11 run 
 away. 
 
 Olof. Why are you laying hands on her? What is her 
 crime ? 
 
 German. Going to church. 
 
ACT SECOND 33 
 
 Olof. I see! (lie looks around.} 
 
 Marten. What are you looking for? 
 
 Olof (catching sight of Marten). A priest ! 
 
 Marten. I am a Black Friar. 
 
 Olof. Yes, I guessed that much. So it 's you who have 
 incited the people against her? 
 
 Marten. I am protecting the church from foulness and 
 trying to keep it free of vice. She is a banned woman, who 
 has been trafficking with her own body, which should be 
 a temple of the Lord. (The woman kneels before Olof.} 
 
 Olof (taking her by the hand}. But I, Dominican, dare 
 to take her hand and match her against you. She has sold 
 her body, you say how many souls have you bought? 
 I am also a priest Nay, I am a man, for I am not 
 presumptuous enough to put a lock on God's own house, 
 and as a sinful human creature I hold out my hand to my 
 fellow-creature, who cannot be pure either. Let him who 
 is without sin step forward and cast the first stone. Step 
 forward, Brother Marten, you angel of light, who have 
 donned the black garments of innocence and shaved your 
 hair so that no one may see how you have grown gray in 
 sin ! Or have you no stone ready, perhaps ? Alas for you, 
 then ! What have you done with those you were to hand 
 the people when they were crying for bread? Have you 
 already given them all away? Step forward, you highly 
 respectable citizen. (To Windrank, who is asleep on the 
 floor.} You, who are sleeping the sleep of a brute, why 
 don't you wake up and fling your knife at her? Do you 
 see how he is blushing? Can it be from shame at the 
 bad company you have brought him into, or from carnal 
 desire? (The crowd mutters disapprovingly.} You are mut- 
 tering! Is that because you are ashamed of my words or 
 
34 MASTER OLOF 
 
 of yourselves ? Why don't you cast the stones ? Oh, you 
 haven't any. Well, open that door. Summon the people 
 outside and hand this woman over to them. If you don't 
 think fifty men have power enough to tear her to pieces, 
 you maybe sure that five hundred women will avail. Well ? 
 You are silent? Rise up, woman! You have been ac- 
 quitted. Go and sin no more. But don't show yourself to 
 the priests, for they will deliver you up to the women ! 
 
 Marten (who has tried to interrupt Olof several times, but 
 has been held back by the German, now displays a document). 
 This man, to whom you have been listening, is a heretic, 
 as you may have heard from his talk, and he has also been 
 excommunicated. Here you can see! Read for yourselves! 
 (He takes one of the candles from the nearest table and throws 
 it on the floor?) " As this candle, that we here cast out, is 
 extinguished, so shall be extinguished all his happiness and 
 weal and whatsoever good may come to him from God!" 
 
 Crowd (draws back, making the sign of the cross, so that 
 Olof is left alone with the Harlot in the middle of the room). 
 Anathema! 
 
 Marten (to the Harlot). There you can hear how much 
 Master Olof's absolution avails you. 
 
 Olof (who has been taken aback for a moment). Do you 
 still dare to trust my word, woman ? Are you not afraid of 
 me? Can you not hear the lightnings of the ban hissing 
 around our heads? Why don't you join these twenty right- 
 eous ones who still remain within the refuge of Holy 
 Church? Answer me! Do you think the Lord has cast 
 me out as these have done ? 
 
 Harlot. No! 
 
 Olof (seizing the letter of excommunication). Well, then! 
 The great bishop of the small city of Linkoping has sold 
 
ACT SECOND 35 
 
 my soul to Satan for the term of my life for farther than 
 that his power does not reach and he has done so because 
 I bade the people seek their Lord when they had been 
 prohibited from doing so! Here is the contract! As the 
 Church, by that contract, has bound me to hell, so I set 
 myself free from it (he tears the letter to pieces) and from 
 the ban of the Church, too ! So help me God ! Amen ! 
 
 Crowd (howling). Anathema! 
 
 Marten. Down with him! At him! He is banned! 
 
 Olof (placing himself in front of the Harlot). Do you hear 
 the devils yelling for their victim ? Dare not to touch me ! 
 
 Marten. At him ! Down with him ! 
 
 Just as one of the mercenaries raises his weapon to strike, the 
 iron door in the rear is flung open, and the Anabaptists, headed 
 by Knipperdollink, come rushing in, uttering wild cries. They 
 carry broken crucifixes and images of saints as well as torn vest- 
 ments. All those in the room before are forced toward the street 
 door. 
 
 Knipperdollink (as he pushes back the iron door and enters 
 ahead of the rest). Come here, folk here's another sanc- 
 tum! What's this? A drinkshop in the temple! Look 
 ye! Look ye the abomination has gone so far that the 
 tabernacle itself is being polluted. But I will cleanse it 
 with 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 the heat, you Belial? Are you the popish tapster 
 who thought it not robbery to build vice a chapel in the 
 very wall of the church ? 
 
36 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Olof. I am the Secretary of the Court-House, and I 
 command you in the name of the King to keep order! 
 
 Knipperdollink. So you are the man whom the King has 
 sent here to make war on our sacred cause? Onward, 
 onward, ye men of God, and seize him first of all ! After- 
 wards we '11 cleanse the temple of the Lord from idolatry. 
 
 Marten. Go at him, good folk, for he's a heretic and 
 under the ban! 
 
 Knipperdolltnk. A heretic ? You are not one of the pa- 
 pists, 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? 
 
 Marten. 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? 
 
 ( 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 the emissaries of the Devil! 
 
 (He points to Marten and Nils, who Jlee through the street 
 door, closely pursued by the Anabaptists. At the door Gert stops 
 and turns toward Olof. The Harlot is crouching in a corner of 
 
ACT SECOND 37 
 
 the room. Windrank is still sleeping under one of the tables. 
 Olof is standing in the middle of the floor, 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 you to 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 ! That is 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 fellow holy? A St. Nicolaus, I think. Can it be pos- 
 sible, then, that Jesus Christ has come down and lived 
 among us to no purpose, as we are still worshipping logs 
 of wood? Can this be a god, which I can break to pieces? 
 See! 
 
 Olof. But he is sacred to the people. 
 
 Gert. So was the golden calf, and so was Zeus; so were 
 
38 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Thor and Odin, too. And yet they were struck down. 
 (Catches sight of the Harlot.} Who 's that woman ? Oh, the 
 one I tried to save by sending her in here. Tell me one 
 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 own work, 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 proclaimed me 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 to preach 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 to God alone for having saved your 
 soul, and don't think that all your sins have been expiated 
 to-day. Try to find strength to live a life that will always 
 be cursed. God has forgiven you your fellow-men will 
 never do so! (He takes her by the hand and leads her to the 
 street door.} 
 
 Enter Marten through the doorway in the rear, followed by 
 Olofs Mother and Christine, the daughter of Gert. 
 
 Marten. We 're in the wrong place, I fear. 
 
ACT SECOND 39 
 
 Mother (outraged at seeing Olof and the Harlot together}. 
 Olof, Olof! 
 
 Christine. Who is that woman? She looks so un- 
 happy. 
 
 Marten. Let us get away from this den of iniquity ! 
 
 Olof (turning and running toward the iron door, which is 
 closed in his face by Marten]. 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 the Sexton, who is also the organ-blower, enters warily. He 
 carries a lantern and is followed by his Wife. 
 Sexton. Catherine dear, will you hold the lantern a mo- 
 ment while I put on the padlock? 
 
 Wife. First we must have a look at all this wretched- 
 ness, 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 if I 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 damp and cold. 
 
 Wife. Perhaps we had better go home? 
 
 Sexton. Oh, I think I must sit down and rest on the 
 bench here. 
 
40 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Wife. You should n't sit down in all this dampness and 
 cold. Let us get back 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 would n't be a bad thing, perhaps. 
 
 Wife. I '11 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 feeling cold. 
 
 Wife. I '11 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? (His wife continues to look.) The tap is lying to 
 the left of it, right by the funnel. 
 
 Wife. I don't think it 's there. 
 
 Sexton. Just as if I did n't know! 
 
 Wife. Yes, here it is. 
 
 (The Sexton gets up to help his wife and accidentally steps on 
 Windrank^) 
 
 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 ex- 
 cellence, and deuces tecum vademecum Christ Jesu, and 
 birds of a feather, and now I lay me down to sleep, and 
 
ACT SECOND 41 
 
 a child is born for you to keep Amen! Amen ! Who's 
 stepping on my windbag? 
 
 Sexton (frightened}. Will you please tell me whether you 
 are a man or a ghost? 
 
 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 no reason why you 
 should blow all the wind out of me. 
 
 Sexton. But that's my business, you know I blow the 
 bellows of the big organ. 
 
 Windrank. So it was the organ-blower who honored me 
 
 Sexton. The sexton, to put it right; but I also keep an 
 old-clothes shop in the church wall. 
 
 Windrank. So you 're organ-blower, sexton, and shop- 
 keeper 
 
 Sexton. In one person without confusion or transfor- 
 mation 
 
 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 for her.} Jesu, but you must have scared my 
 wife out of her wits. She has run away from the keg and 
 taken the tap along ! Get up up with you, and let us leave 
 this godless hole! 
 
 Windrank. No, my dear fellow, I 'm in my element now, 
 so I think I '11 stay. 
 
 Sexton. Goodness, the clock is striking twelve, and the 
 ghosts will be coming! 
 
42 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Windrank {jumping to his feet). That 's a different story ! 
 (The Sexton guides Windrank toward the door ?)\^\ste\\, sexton 
 
 I 'm beginning to have strong 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 ? Should n'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 pic king up the image). Well, if that is n't 
 enough to make your hair stand on end ! Here 's St. Nico- 
 laus broken all to pieces and swimming in the beer. It has 
 come to a fine pass when divine things are defiled like that 
 
 I don't think the world will last much longer 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 was born 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-fearing man. But never mind, I '11 have St. Nico- 
 laus glued together for you. 
 
 Sexton (calling into the church). Catherine! 
 
 Windrank. Hush, hush, man ! You '11 make the ghosts 
 appear ! 
 
 Sexton. A plague on your tongue! ^Exeunt. 
 
ACT SECOND 43 
 
 SCENE 3 
 
 The Sacristy of the Church of St. Nicolaus. There is a door lead- 
 ing to the church, and another, smaller one, leading to the 
 pulpit. The walls are hung with chasubles and surplices. Prie- 
 dieus and a few small chests are standing about. The sunlight 
 is pouring in through a window. The church bells are heard 
 ringing. Through the wall at the left can be heard a constant 
 murmuring. The Sexton and his Wife enter, stop near the door, 
 and pray silently. 
 
 Sexton. That's enough! Now, Catherine dear, you'd bet- 
 ter hurry up and do some dusting. 
 
 Wife. Oh, there 's no special occasion. It 's nobody but 
 that Master Olof who 's going to preach to-day. Really, 
 I can't see why the Chapter allows it. 
 
 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 the wall nothing but new-fangled tricks! It's all 
 on account of that man Luther. 
 
 Wife. I suppose we '11 have the same kind of trouble 
 that we had yesterday. 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 poor fellow will need something to wet his whistle 
 to-day. 
 
 Wife. Well, I should n't bother, if I were you. 
 
 Sexton (speaking from the pulpit). Catherine here he 
 comes! 
 
 Wife. Goodnessgracious,andthesermonbell hasn'trung 
 yet! Well, I suppose they won't ring it for a fellow like him. 
 
44 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Enter Olof, looking serious and solemn. He crosses to one of the 
 prie-dieus and kneels on it. The Sexton comes down from the pul- 
 pit and takes 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 
 the vestment 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 '11 find the missal to the right of you as you get 
 up, and I have put in a stick so you '11 know where to open 
 it, and there is a glass of water beside the book. And you 
 must n't forget to turn the hour-glass, or it may chance 
 you '11 keep it up a little too long 
 
 Olof. Don't worry! There will be plenty of people to 
 tell me when to quit. 
 
 Sexton. Mercy, yes beg your pardon! But you see, 
 we 've got our own customs 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 them all that I command thee." God help 
 me ! (He drops on his knees at a prie-dieu; there he finds a note, 
 
ACT SECOND 45 
 
 which he reads.) "Don't preach to-day; your life is in dan- 
 ger." The Tempter himself wrote that! (He tears the 
 note 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. Turn back! 
 
 Olof. Where would you lead me? 
 
 Mother. To godliness and virtue. 
 
 Olof. If godliness and virtue are vested in papal decrees, 
 then I fear it is too late. 
 
 Mother. It is n'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 too proud 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 when I 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 free countenance and speak the 
 words of truth. 
 
 Mother. How can you talk of truth, you who have made 
 yourself a prophet of lies ? 
 
 Olof. Those are hard words, mother! 
 
 Mother. Or perhaps I and my forbears have lived and 
 worshipped and died in a lie? 
 
 Olof. It was n't a lie, but it has become one. When you 
 were young, mother, you were right, and when I grow old 
 
46 MASTER OLOF 
 
 well, perhaps I may find myself in the wrong. One can- 
 not keep apace with the times. 
 
 Mother. I don't understand! 
 
 Olof. This is my one sorrow the greatest one of my 
 life: that all I do and say with the purest purpose must 
 appear to you a crime and sacrilege. 
 
 Mother. I know what you mean to do, Olof I know 
 what error you have fallen into and I cannot hope to 
 persuade you out of it, for you know so much more than 
 I do, and I am sure that the Lord will put you on the 
 right path again but I ask you to take care of your own 
 life, so that you 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 introduce the 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 so! 
 
 Olof. Nothing can prevent me. 
 
 Mother. I have prayed to God that He would touch your 
 heart I'll tell you, but you must n't speak of it to any- 
 body. I am weak with age, and I couldn't trust my own 
 knees, so I went to see a servant of the Lord and asked 
 him, who is nearer to God, to say some prayers for your 
 soul. He refused because you are under the ban. Oh, it 's 
 dreadful! May the Lord forgive me my sin! I bribed the 
 pure conscience of that man with gold with the Devil's 
 own gold just to save you! 
 
ACT SECOND 47 
 
 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 to the wall). Listen! Do you hear? He is pray- 
 ing for you now in the chapel next to this room. 
 
 Olof. So that was the murmur I heard! Who is he? 
 
 Mother. You know him Brother Marten, of the Do- 
 minicans 
 
 Olof. You get Satan to say prayers for me! Forgive 
 me, mother I thank you 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 to recant! 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! (Kiss- 
 ing 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' den will also protect me! 
 (Olof ascends the stairs leading to the pulpit. Throughout the 
 ensuing scenes a man's voice can be heard speaking with great 
 power, but no words can be distinguished. After a while mut- 
 terings are heard, which change 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 should n't I visit the house of the Lord ? 
 There is something you hide from me! 
 
 Mother. Go home, Christine ! 
 
48 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Christine. May I not hear Olof preach? It's the word 
 of God, is n't it, mother? (The Mother remains silent.} You 
 don't answer? What does it mean ? Has n't Olof permis- 
 sion to preach ? Why do the people out there look so mys- 
 terious? 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 place is 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 know anything at all makes me so unhappy. I see 
 nothing but a dreadful darkness, and shadows that are 
 moving about Give me light, so that I may see clearly! 
 Perhaps I know these ghostly shadows? 
 
 Mother. You will shudder when you see who they are. 
 
 Christine. It is better to shudder than to be tormented 
 by this horrible calm. 
 
 Mother. Don't pray for the cloud to flash forth light- 
 ning: it may destroy you! 
 
 Christine. You frighten me! But tell me the truth I 
 must know or I shall ask some one else. 
 
 Mother. Are you firm in your decision to withdraw within 
 the sacred walls of the convent ? 
 
 Christine. My father wishes it. 
 
 Mother. You hesitate? (Christine does not answer.} There 
 is some tie that holds you back. 
 
 Christine. You know? 
 
ACT SECOND 49 
 
 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 offer the Lord the greatest sacrifice of alljf a single 
 soul can be saved from 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 his soul. 
 
 Christine (passionately}. It isn't true! 
 
 Mother. God grant that you are right! 
 
 Christine. Why why have n't you told me this before? 
 
 But, of course, it 's a lie ! (She goes to the door leading 
 into the church and pushes it ajar.) Look at him, mother 
 there he is! Can that be an evil spirit speaking out of his 
 mouth? Can that be a hellish flame burning in his eyes? 
 Can lies be told with trembling lips ? Does darkness shed 
 light can't you see the halo about his head? You are 
 wrong ! I feel it within me ! I don't know what he preaches 
 
 I don't know what he denies 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 of the Devil. Beware! (She pulls Christine 
 away from the door.} You must n't listen to him. There is 
 no strength in your soul, and he 's the apostle of Anti- 
 christ! 
 
 Christine. Who is Antichrist? 
 
 Mother. He is a Luther! 
 
 Christine. You have never told me who Luther is, but 
 if Olof is his apostle, then Luther must be a great man. 
 
50 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Mother. Luther is possessed of the Devil.! 
 
 Christine. Why did n't you tell me before ? Now I can't 
 believe you! 
 
 Mother. I am telling you now Alas, I wanted to save 
 you from the world's wickedness, and so I kept you in ig- 
 norance 
 
 Christine. I don't believe you! Let me go! I must see 
 him I must listen to him for he does n't talk like the 
 rest. 
 
 Mother. Jesus, my Saviour! Are you, too, possessed by 
 the unclean spirit? 
 
 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 people shudder at his words now they rise 
 up they mutter. "You want no freedom 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 good ladies. The people are getting restless. 
 This will never end well for Master 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 won- 
 der at preaching. Old sinner that I am, I could n't keep 
 from crying where I was sitting in the organ-loft. I don't 
 understand how it can be possible for a heretic and an 
 Antichrist to talk like that. That man Luther, I must say, I 
 (Cries are heard from the church?) There, there! Now some- 
 thing dreadful is going to happen again ! And to think that 
 the King should be gone just now! 
 
 Mother. Let us get away from here. If the Lord is with 
 
ACT SECOND 51 
 
 him, they can do him no harm. If it be the Devil then 
 Thy will be done, O Lord but forgive 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 more clearly than before. It is interrupted by 
 cries and the rattling of stones thrown at the pulpit. Christine 
 returns alone, locks the door on the inside, and falls on her knees 
 at a prie-dieu. A number of violent blows are directed against 
 the door from without, while the tumult in the church contin- 
 ues to increase. Then silence is restored, as Olof descends from 
 the pulpit. His forehead is bleeding and he wears a haggard 
 look.) 
 
 Olof (dropping into a chair without perceiving Christine). 
 In vain! They will not! I take the fetters from the pris- 
 oner, and he hits me. I tell him he is free, and he does n'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 at 
 least 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 listen- 
 ing 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 be- 
 fore ? Or why have they been told us in a language that we 
 do not understand? 
 
52 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Olof. Who has put those words into your mouth, girl ? 
 
 Christine. Who ? I have n'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 hurt you, 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 
 begins to dress Olof s wounds while speaking). My faith? I 
 don't understand you. Tell me, who is Luther? 
 
 Olof. I must n't tell you. 
 
 Christine. Always the same answer! From my father, 
 from your mother, and from yourself. Are you timid about 
 telling me the truth, or is the truth really 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 a lifeless life in ignorance? (Olof does not reply?) 
 You want me to weep away my life and my youth, and to 
 keep on saying those endlessly long prayers until my soul 
 is put to sleep? No I won't do it, for now I am awake. 
 All around me they are fighting, and suffering, and despair- 
 ing. I have seen it, but I was to have no share in it. I was 
 not even to look on, or to know the purpose of the fighting. 
 You wanted me to be sunk in bestial slumber. But don't 
 you believe me possessed of a soul, then a soul that can- 
 not be satisfied by bread or by dry prayers put into my 
 mouth by others? "Bind not the spirits," you said. Oh, if 
 you could only know how that word pierced me ! Daylight 
 
ACT SECOND 53 
 
 came, and those wild cries out there sounded like the sing- 
 ing 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 be asleep ! Don't you see that the Lord has awak- 
 ened me in spite of all ? You have never dared to tell me 
 who Antichrist was. You have never dared to tell me who 
 Luther was, and when your mother called you a Luther, 
 I blessed Luther. If he be a heretic or a believer, I don't 
 know, and I don't care; for no one whether it be Luther, 
 or the Pope, or Antichrist can satisfy my immortal soul 
 when I have no faith in the eternal God. 
 
 Olof. Will you follow me into the battle, Christine? For 
 you can sustain me, and you only ! 
 
 Christine. Now I am able to answer you with a frank 
 "yes," for I know my own will and I can do so with- 
 out 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 they are already gone. But you may be 
 sure that I, too, have been dreaming of a knight who was 
 to lay a kingdom at my feet and talk to me of flowers 
 and love Olof, I want to be your wife! Here is my 
 hand ! But this much I must tell you : that you never have 
 been the knight of my dreams, and that 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. For when I suffered sorrow and temptation, 
 you were always in my mind and now you shall be at my 
 side ! You were the maiden of my dreams, kept captive in 
 a tower by the stern castellan and now you are mine! 
 
54 MASTER OLOF 
 
 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). Chris- 
 tine? You have 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 it can. 
 
 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 her to 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. 
 
ACT SECOND 55 
 
 Gert. Do you want a man who is under the ban, Chris- 
 tine ? 
 
 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 ! Go home, Christine, and set 
 their minds at rest. I want to speak to Olof. (Exit Chris- 
 tine.) 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 
 somewhat strangely. 
 
 Olof. I don't understand. 
 
 Gert. No no! You are still too young, and so you 
 need a providence. To a 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 have done a good piece of work to-day, 
 and I see that you have got your reward for it. I have set 
 you free to-day, Olof. 
 
 Ohf. You have? 
 
 Gert. The King commanded you to quiet the rebellious, 
 and what have you been 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. 
 
56 MASTER OLOF 
 
 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 makes no 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 me out. Rink and Knipperdollink have served as 
 my outposts. They had to fall, 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. Come here and see! 
 
 Olof (mounting one of the benches and looking out of the 
 window}. What do I see ? Women and children are dragged 
 along by the soldiers! 
 
 Gert. Well, they have been throwing stones at the King's 
 guard. Do you think 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 
 
ACT SECOND 57 
 
 sent to the hospital and treated with pills and cold baths. 
 Those of the other kind have their heads cut off. It is a 
 radical treatment, but then, for a fact, they are rather dan- 
 gerous. 
 
 Olof. I '11 go to the King. He cannot wish such dread- 
 ful things to happen. 
 
 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 if it cost my life. (He goes toward the door.) 
 
 Gert. This is a matter not to be settled by the King. 
 You should appeal to the law. 
 
 Olof. The King is the law! 
 
 Gert. Unfortunately! If the horse knew his own 
 strength, he would never be mad enough, as he is now, to 
 bear the yoke. But when once in a while he gets his reason 
 back and runs away from his oppressors, then they call him 
 mad Let us pray the Lord to give these poor creatures 
 their reason back! 
 
ACT III 
 
 SCENE i 
 
 A Hall in the Royal Palace at Stockholm. In the background is 
 a gallery which can be partitioned off by curtains. An elderly 
 servant of the palace 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 four days 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 able to 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 ser- 
 vant pretends not to hear.) Do you know if the King is com- 
 ing 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 the Smith, for I am also from Orebro. 
 
 Olof. Well, can't you be civil in spite of that ? 
 
ACT THIRD 59 
 
 Servant. Well, well ! That 's what happens when one 
 gets on a little in this world then one's humble parents 
 are forgotten. 
 
 Olof. It is possible that my father actually honored you 
 with his acquaintance, but I doubt that he put you in a 
 parent's place to me when he died. 
 
 Servant. Well, well ! I declare! It must be hard on Dame 
 Christine! [Exit to the left. 
 
 Olof is left alone for a while. Then Lars Siggesson, the Lord 
 High Constable, enters from the right. 
 
 Constable (throwing his cloak to Olof without looking at 
 him). Will the King 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 list of 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 sec- 
 retary to wait on anybody. 
 
 Constable. What? Oh, Master Olof! Why, first you sit 
 at the door playing lackey, 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 it on a 
 bench?) 
 
 Olof. My Lord Constable ! 
 
60 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Constable. But, no, you are only a vain upstart ! Please 
 step forward and be 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 
 salutes Olof. 
 
 Courtier. Good morning, Secretary ! Is nobody here yet ? 
 Well, how is everything in Stockholm? I have just arrived 
 from Malmo. 
 
 Olof. Oh, everything is going wrong here. 
 
 Courtier. So I have heard. The mob has been muttering 
 as usual whenever the King's back is turned. And then 
 there are those fool priests! I beg your pardon, Secre- 
 tary, 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 masque during the last carnival? (Olof 
 remains silent.} " Monsieur" he said, "la religion est morte, 
 est morte" he said. Which did n't keep him from attend- 
 ing mass. 
 
 Olof. Is that so? 
 
 Courtier. Do you know what he replied when I asked 
 him why he did so ? " Poetry ! Poetry ! " he said. Oh, he is 
 divine ! 
 
 Olof. What did you answer? 
 
 Courtier. "Your Majesty,"! said in French, of course 
 "fortunate the land that has a king who can look so far 
 beyond the narrow horizon of his own time that he per- 
 ceives what the spirit of the age demands, without trying 
 
ACT THIRD 61 
 
 to urge the masses to embrace that higher view of life for 
 which they will not be ready for many centuries to come ! " 
 Wasn't that pretty clever? 
 
 Olof. Oh, yes, but I think it must have lost a great deal 
 in being translated. 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 ad- 
 vance 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 Germans are not beyond religion 
 yet. 
 
 Courtier. Indeed, indeed! Can you tell me why they are 
 making such a hubbub about that Reformation down there 
 in Germany? Luther is a man of enlightenment I know 
 it I believe it but why shouldn't he keep it to him- 
 self, or at least not waste any sparks of light on the brut- 
 ish herd to 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 some effort to follow the 
 great currents of thought then you will easily perceive 
 the cause of that disturbed equilibrium which is now 
 making itself felt in all the great civilized countries; I am 
 not talking of Sweden, of course, which is not a civilized 
 country. Can you name the centre of gravity that cen- 
 tre which cannot be disturbed without everything going to 
 pieces the instability of which tends to upset everything? 
 The name of it is the nobility. The nobility is the think- 
 ing principle. The feudal system is falling and that means 
 the world. Erudition is in decay. Civilization is dying. Yes, 
 indeed You don't believe that? But if you have any his- 
 
62 MASTER OLOF 
 
 torical outlook at all, you can see that it is so. The nobil- 
 ity started the Crusades. The nobility has done this and 
 that and everything. Why is Germany being torn to pieces ? 
 Because the peasantry has risen against the nobility, thus 
 cutting off its own head. Why is France safe la France? 
 Because France is one with the nobility, and the nobility 
 is one with France because those two ideas are identi- 
 cal, inseparable. And why, I ask again, is Sweden at pres- 
 ent shaken to its nethermost foundations ? Because the no- 
 bility has been crushed. Christian the Second was a man 
 of genius. He knew how to conquer a country. He did n't 
 cut off a leg or an arm nay, he cut off the head. Well, 
 then! Sweden must be saved, and the King knows how. 
 The nobility is to be restored, and the Church is to be 
 crushed. 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 Anders son. 
 
 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. 
 
ACT THIRD 63 
 
 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 cour- 
 tier that I know how to be silent when an ass is talking. 
 
 Lars. There is no harm in that. 
 
 Olof. What does the King think? 
 
 Lars. He does n'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, vjho has returned in the meantime, goes to meet 
 him and exchanges greetings 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 His Highness. 
 
 Brask. It is a pleasure, my Lord Constable, to offer His 
 Highness our sincere felicitations on the happy solution 
 of this question. 
 
 Constable. It is indeed courteous in Your Grace to incur 
 the trouble of such a long journey especially at Your 
 Grace's advanced age. 
 
 Brask. Unfortunately, my health is not always to be de- 
 pended upon. 
 
64 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Constable. Is Your Grace not enjoying good health? It 
 is hard to feel one's strength failing, particularly for one 
 who occupies such an exalted 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, my Lord ? 
 
 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's servants. 
 
 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.} If you will please step out into the antecham- 
 ber, I will receive you one at a time. (All retire except 
 Bishop Brask.} Our Lord Constable will stay. 
 
 Brask. Your Highness! 
 
 Gustaf (raising his voice}. Sir Lars! (Brask goes out, the 
 Constable remaining; pause.} Speak! What am I to do? 
 
 Constable. Your Highness, the State has lost its prop, 
 and therefore it is toppling over; the State has an enemy 
 
ACT THIRD 65 
 
 that has grown too strong for it. Restore the prop, which is 
 the nobility, and crush the enemy, which is 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 Pope to have the inquisition established here. Liibeck 
 is insisting on her shameless demands and threatens war. 
 The treasury is empty. There is rebellion 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 dis- 
 puting with those of Liibeck about the honor of having 
 bestowed a king on Sweden. They are ready to rebel on 
 the slightest occasion, and they are coming forward with 
 demands like these: "There shall be no outlandish cus- 
 toms used, with slittered and motley colored clothes, such 
 as have of late been brought into the King's court." 
 
 Gustaf. 'Sdeath! 
 
 Constable. "Whosoever eats meat on Fridays or Satur- 
 days shall be burned at the stake or otherwise made away 
 with." And furthermore, "There shall be no new faith or 
 Lutheran teachings foisted upon us." What a treacherous, 
 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 was afire ? How many times have they broken 
 troth and faith? But they have so often heard themselves 
 lauded that they have come to give the name of" old Swed- 
 ish honesty" to their own brute arrogance. 
 
66 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Gustaf. You belong to the nobility! 
 
 Constable. Yes, and it is my conviction that the peasant 
 has played out his part the part of a crude force needed 
 to drive away the enemy by sheer strength of arm. Crush 
 the Church, Your Highness, for it is keeping the people 
 in fetters. Seize the gold of the Church and pay the coun- 
 try's debt and give back to the reduced nobility what the 
 Church has 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 dis- 
 tricts, I am sorry to say, about unpaid loans of silver ex- 
 acted from the churches by Your Highness. 
 
 Gustaf. Which you now are trying to recover. Are all 
 the chalices actually 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 for her own rights, even if doing so should 
 bring her into conflict 
 
 Gustaf. With whom? 
 
ACT THIRD 67 
 
 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, and you 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-in- 
 formed man. What kind of a phenomenon is he? What 
 have you to say of the movements that are now spreading 
 throughout Europe? 
 
 Brask. Progress backward! Luther is merely destined to 
 serve as a purging fire for what is ancient, descended 
 from untold ages and well tried, so that it may be cleansed 
 and by the struggle urged on to greater victories. 
 
 Gustaf. I care nothing for your learned arguments. 
 
 Brask. But Your Highness is extending protection to 
 criminals and interfering with the privileges of the Church; 
 for the Church has been grievously wronged by Master 
 Olof. 
 
 Gustaf. Well, put him under the ban. 
 
 Brask. It has been done, and yet he remains in the ser- 
 vice of Your Highness. 
 
 Gustaf. What more do you want done to him? Tell 
 me? (Pause.) 
 
 Brask. Furthermore, he has gone so far as to marry 
 secretly in violation of the Canon Law. 
 
 Gustaf. Is that so? That 's quick action. 
 
68 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Brask. It does n't concern Your Highness ? Good and 
 well ! But if he stirs up the people ? 
 
 Gustaf. Then I '11 step in. Anything more ? 
 
 Brask (after a pause). I ask you for heaven's sake not 
 to plunge the country into disaster again. It is not yet ripe 
 for a new faith. We are but 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! But let us be enemies rather than false friends, 
 Bishop Hans! 
 
 Brask. Be it so! But do not do what you will regret. 
 Every stone you tear 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 have the same horrible spectacle here as in 
 Germany. For the last time : are you willing to make con- 
 cessions if the welfare of the country is at stake ? 
 
 Brask. The Church 
 
 Gustaf. The Church comes first very well! Good-bye! 
 
 [Exit Brask. 
 Reenter the Constable. 
 
 Gustaf. The Bishop has confirmed your statement, and 
 that was what I wanted him to do. Now we shall need 
 stone-masons who know how to tear down. The walls will 
 be left, the cross may stay on the roof and the bell in the 
 tower, but I will clear out the vaults. One must begin at 
 the bottom! 
 
 Constable. The people will think you are taking away 
 their faith. They will have to be educated. 
 
 Gustaf. We '11 send Master Olof to preach to them. 
 
ACT THIRD 69 
 
 Constable. Master Olof is a dangerous man. 
 
 Gustaf. But needed just now. 
 
 Constable. He has carried on like the Anabaptists in- 
 stead of opposing them. 
 
 Gustaf. I know. We '11 get to that later on. Send him in. 
 
 Constable. Lars the Chancellor would be a better man. 
 
 Gustaf. Bring them both in. 
 
 Constable. Or OloFs brother, Lars Pedersson. 
 
 Gustaf. No good yet. He is too soft for fighting, but 
 his time will come, 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 Master Olof. 
 
 Gustaf. You won't, then? 
 
 Lars. I can't! But I have a weapon for you. (He hands 
 the new translation 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 you calmed down yet, Olof? (Olof does not answer.) 
 I gave you four days to think 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 named Anabaptists ? 
 
 Olof (bravely). I do! 
 
 Gustaf. Steady! You have married in a hurry? 
 
70 MASTER OLOF 
 
 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 a rebel with the rest, what would you say then ? 
 
 Olof. I should regret not being permitted to finish my 
 task, but I should 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-nest Upsala and tell its learned men that the Pope 
 is not God and that he has nothing 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 is n't noble to take advantage of my misfor- 
 tune, Olof. Well, say anything you please, but you will 
 have to pardon me if I take back a part of it afterwards. 
 
 Olof. Truth is n'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 of this sleeping people, my life will not have 
 been wasted. It is to be a reformation, then? 
 
 Gustaf (after a pause). Yes. (Pause.) 
 
 Olof (timidly). And what is to become of the Anabap- 
 tists ? 
 
ACT THIRD 71 
 
 Gustaf. Need you ask? They must die. 
 
 Olof. Will Your Highness permit me one more ques- 
 tion ? 
 
 Gustaf. Tell me: what do those madmen want? 
 
 Olof. The sad thing is that they do not know it them- 
 selves, and if I were 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 the correctness of this document. 
 
 Gustaf. Wait till you are called. 
 
 Gert. Of course, I should like to, but the guards won't 
 wait for me. I escaped from prison, you see, because my 
 place was n't there. 
 
 Gustaf. Are you one of those Anabaptists? 
 
 Gert. Yes, I happened to get mixed up with them, 
 but here I have a certificate proving that I belong to the 
 asylum, the third department for incurables, cell number 
 seven. 
 
 Gustaf (to Olof"). Send word to the guard. 
 
 Gert. That is n't necessary, for I want nothing but jus- 
 tice, and it 's something the guard does n't handle. 
 
 Gustaf (looting hard at Gert). I suppose you have had 
 a share in those outrages in the city churches? 
 
 Gert. Of course, I have! No sane person could behave 
 so madly. We wanted only to make a few minor altera- 
 tions in the style. They seemed too low in the ceiling. 
 
 Gustaf. What do you really want? 
 
 Gert. Oh, we want a great deal, although we haven't 
 got through with one-half of it yet. Yes, we want so many 
 
72 MASTER OLOF 
 
 things and we want them so quickly, that our reason 
 cannot keep pace with them, and that 's why it has been 
 lagging behind a little. Yes, we wish among other things 
 to change the furnishings a little in the churches, and to 
 remove the windows because the air seems so musty. 
 Yes, and there is a lot more we want, but that will have 
 to wait for a while. 
 
 Gustaf (to Olof}. That's a perilous disease for any- 
 thing else it cannot be. 
 
 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 Malmo. 
 
 Olof. And then? 
 
 Gustaf. They '11 have a chance to escape. That fool 
 over there you can send back to the asylum. Farewell! 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Gert (shaking his clenched fat after Gustaf}. Well, are we 
 going? 
 
 Olof. Where? 
 
 Gert. Home. (Olof remains silent.} You don't wish to 
 send your father-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 not answer.} I won't make you unhappy, my poor 
 
ACT THIRD 73 
 
 boy. Here 's balm for your conscience. (He takes out a 
 document?) 
 
 Olof. What is it? 
 
 Gert. A certificate of health. You see, it is necessary to 
 be a madman among 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 not accustomed 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 '11 get the dust 
 all over yourself. 
 
 Servant. I don't understand. 
 
 Gert. Well, that 's your only excuse. 
 
 [Exeunt Gert and Olof. 
 
 Servant. Rabble! 
 
74 MASTER OLOF 
 
 SCENE 2 
 
 Olofs Study. There are windows in the background, through 
 which the sun is shining into the room. Trees are visible out- 
 side. Christine is standing at one of the windows, watering 
 her flowers. While doing so she 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 to Christine as if he wished 
 her to keep quiet. This happens several times, until at last Chris- 
 tine knocks down one of the flower pots, when Olof taps the 
 floor lightly with his foot. 
 
 Christine. Oh, my poor little flower! Look, Olof, four buds 
 were broken off. 
 
 Olof. Yes, I see. 
 
 Christine. No, you don't. You must come over here. 
 
 Olof. My dear, I have n't time. 
 
 Christine. You have n't looked at the starlings which I 
 bought for you this morning. Don't you think they sing 
 sweetly ? 
 
 Olof. Rather. 
 
 Christine. Rather? 
 
 Olof. It 's hard for me to work when they are scream- 
 ing like that. 
 
 Christine. They are not screaming, Olof, but you seem 
 to be more fond of a night bird that does scream. Tell me, 
 what is the meaning of the owl that appears on your sig- 
 net 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 eye turns night into day. 
 
ACT THIRD 75 
 
 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 should n't I ? Is it not in Swedish ? 
 
 Olof. Yes, but it is too abstract for you. 
 
 Christine. Abstract? What does that mean? 
 
 Olof. You would n't understand if I told you, but if you 
 don't understand what I read to you, then you understand 
 what is meant by "abstract." 
 
 Christine (picking up a piece of half- finished embroidery}. 
 Go on and read 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 something wholly without predicability, indeter- 
 minable and indistinguishable. For nothing can originate 
 out of pure non-being, but only out of the non-being 
 of reality, which is synonymous with being as a possibil- 
 ity. Being in its possibility is no more non-being than is 
 reality. For that reason every existence is a realized pos- 
 sibility. Thus matter is to Aristotle a much more positive 
 substratum than to Plato, who declares it to be pure non- 
 being. And thereby it becomes plain how Aristotle could 
 conceive of matter in its opposition to form as a positive 
 negativity." 
 
76 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Christine (throwing aside her work). Stop! Why is it that 
 I cannot understand that? Have I not the same mental 
 faculties as you? I am ashamed, Olof, because you have 
 such a poor creature of a wife that she cannot 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 your 
 wishes in your eyes. I may become your slave, but never, 
 never shall I be able to understand you. Oh, Olof, I am 
 not worthy of you! Why did you make me your wife? 
 You must have over-valued me in a moment of intoxi- 
 cation. Now you will regret it, and we sh^all both be un- 
 happy. 
 
 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 I could n'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 could n't understand 
 me a moment ago: I haven't learned how. And perhaps 
 you will feel happy once more if I tell 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 learn to do your work. 
 
 Christine. Why could n'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 want to do it. Believe me, you are stronger 
 than I, for you have power over your own will, but I 
 have not. 
 
ACT THIRD 77 
 
 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 I understand, 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 puts you above me the power to control your 
 own will and then you would be less than I, and I could 
 not respect you. Do you see? It makes us happy to over- 
 value 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 to- 
 day. The King has abdicated because the people would 
 not do what he desired. To-day I shall either reach my goal 
 or have to start the fight all over again. 
 
 Christine. May I not be happy to-day, Olof on Mid- 
 summer Eve? 
 
 Olof. Why should you be so very happy to-day? 
 
 Christine. Why should I not since I have been set 
 free from slavery and have become your wife? 
 
 Olof. Can you forgive me that my happiness is a little 
 more sober because it has cost me a mother? 
 
 Christine. I know, and I feel it very deeply. But when 
 your mother learns of our marriage, she will forgive you 
 and put her curse on me. Whose burden will then be the 
 
78 MASTER OLOF 
 
 heavier? However, it doesn't matter, because it's borne 
 for your sake. And this much I know : that terrible strug- 
 gles are awaiting you; that daring thoughts are growing in 
 your mind; and that I can never share your struggle, never 
 help you with advice, never defend you against those that 
 vilify you but still I must look 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, but would 
 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 those heights which I cannot at- 
 tain. Leave your battles on the hilltops and return some 
 time to our home. As I cannot ascend to you, you must 
 descend to me for a moment. Forgive me, Olof, if I talk 
 childishly! I know that you are a man sent by the Lord, 
 and I have felt the blessing with which your words are 
 fraught. But you are more than that you are a man, and 
 you are my husband or at least ought to be. You won't 
 fall from your exalted place if you put aside your solemn 
 speech now and then and let the clouds pass from your 
 forehead. You are not too great, are you, to look at a flower 
 or listen to a bird ? I put the flowers on your table, Olof, 
 in order that they might rest your eyes and you ordered 
 the maid to take them out because they gave you a head- 
 ache. I tried to cheer the lonely silence of your work by 
 bringing the birds whose song you call screaming. I 
 asked you to come to dinner a while ago you had n't 
 time. I wanted to talk to you you had n't time. You de- 
 spise this little corner of reality and yet that is what you 
 have set aside for me. You don't want to lift me up to 
 you but try at least not to push me further down. I will 
 take away everything that might disturb your thoughts. 
 
ACT THIRD 79 
 
 You shall have peace from me and from my rubbish! 
 (She throws the flowers out of the window, picks up the bird- 
 cage, and starts to leave?) 
 
 Olof. Christine, dear child, forgive me! You don't under- 
 stand me! 
 
 Christine. Always the same: "You don't understand 
 me!" Oh, I know now what it means. In that moment 
 in the sacristy I matured so completely that I reached my 
 second childhood at once! 
 
 Olof. I '11 look at your birds and prattle with your 
 flowers, dear heart. 
 
 Christine (putting aside the bird-cage). No, the time for 
 prattle is gone by from now on we shall be serious. You 
 need not fear my boisterous happiness. It was only put on 
 for your sake, and as it does n't suit your sombre calling, 
 I '11 (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 eat now in fact, I feel quite hungry. 
 
 Christine (pleased"). Do you really know how to be hun- 
 gry? (At that moment she looks out of the window and makes 
 a gesture of dismay?) Go on, Olof, and I '11 be with you in 
 a moment. I only want to get things in a little better order 
 in here. 
 
 Olof (as he goes out). Don't let me wait so long for you 
 as you have had to wait for me. 
 (Christine folds her hands as if praying and takes up a position 
 
8o MASTER OLOF 
 
 indicating that she is waiting for somebody about to enter from 
 the street. 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 aback for a moment', then she answers in the same tone). 
 No, but if you care to be seated, he will be here soon. 
 
 Mother. Thank you! (She seats herself . Pause.) Bring me 
 a glass of water. (Christine waits on her.) Now you can leave 
 me. 
 
 Christine. It is my housewifely duty to bear you com- 
 pany. 
 
 Mother. I did n't know that the housekeeper of a priest 
 could call herself a housewife. 
 
 Christine. I am the wife of Olof with the sanction of 
 the Lord. Don't you 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 was talking 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 presence shames me ! 
 
 Christine (on her knees). For the sake of your son, don't 
 heap abuse on me! 
 
 Mother. With a mother's authority I command you to 
 leave my son's house, the threshold of which you have 
 defiled. ' 
 
ACT THIRD 8 1 
 
 Christine. As a housewife I open my door to whom I 
 may choose to receive. I should have closed it to you, had 
 I been able to guess what language you would use. 
 
 Mother. Big words, indeed ! I command you to leave ! 
 
 Christine. With what right do you force yourself into 
 this house in order to drive me out of my own home ? You 
 have borne a son, and raised him that was your duty, 
 your mission, and you may thank your God for being per- 
 mitted to fill that mission so well, which is a good fortune 
 not granted to everybody. Now you have reached the edge 
 of the grave. Why not resign yourself before the end comes ? 
 Or have you raised your son so poorly that he is still a 
 child and needs your guidance ? If you want gratitude, come 
 and look for it, but not in this way. Or do you think it 
 is the destiny of a child to sacrifice its own life merely to 
 show 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 his powers, that belong to his coun- 
 try, to mankind merely for the satisfaction of your pri- 
 vate little selfishness? Or do you imagine that the fact of 
 having borne and raised him does even entitle you to grat- 
 itude? Did not your life's mission and destiny lie in that? 
 Should you not thank the Lord for being given such a high 
 mission ? Or did you do it only that you might spend the 
 rest of your life clamoring for gratitude? Don't you see 
 that by using that word "gratitude" you tear down all 
 that you have built up before? And what makes you pre- 
 sume that you have rights over me? Is marriage to mean 
 a mortgaging of my free will to anybody whom nature has 
 made the mother or father of my husband who unfor- 
 tunately could not exist without either? You are not my 
 mother. My troth was not pledged to you when I took 
 
82 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Olof as my husband. And I have sufficient respect for my 
 husband not to permit anybody to insult him, even if it 
 be his own mother. That 's why I have spoken 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 his presence. (She goes to the door and calls.) Olof! 
 
 Mother. Such guile already! 
 
 Christine. Already? It 's nothing new, I think, although 
 I did n't know I had 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 to show me the door. 
 
 Olof. In God's name, mother, what are you saying? 
 Christine, what does this mean? 
 
 Mother (about to leave). Good-bye, Olof! This is more 
 than I can ever forgive 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 me nothing 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 I had never dared to think, but which I must 
 have dreamt while father kept me still enslaved. 
 
 Olof. I don't know you any more, Christine. 
 
 Christine. No, I begin to feel a little lost myself. 
 
ACT THIRD 83 
 
 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. Why didn'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 '11 do it in your place. It pleases you to sub- 
 mit willingly to your mother's will and wish because you 
 are strong and I, on the other 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 hate her? 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 me all ? Am I to be a child forever ? Then you 
 had better put me in a nursery and 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! 
 
84 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Olof. You are hiding something that happened yester- 
 day! 
 
 Christine. I am I thought that I could keep it to my- 
 self, but it has grown too much for me. 
 
 Olof. Speak I beg you] 
 
 Christine. But you mustn't call me silly! A crowd of 
 people pursued me all the way to our door and called after 
 me that horrible word which I don't understand. People 
 do not laugh at an unfortunate woman 
 
 Olof. Yes, dear, that 's just what they do. 
 
 Christine. I did n't understand their words, but their ac- 
 tions were plain enough to make me wicked! 
 
 Olof. And yet you were so kind to me ! Forgive me if 
 I have been hard to you! It is a name given by brute 
 force to its own victims. Sooner or later you'll learn more 
 about it, but never dare to defend an "unfortunate woman" 
 for then they will throw mud at you ! (A messenger enters 
 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 the glad 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 you without any sense of humiliation 
 because, in speaking for the new faith, you have wielded 
 no weapons but those of the spirit. Whether you be right, I 
 cannot tell, but I think you have deserved a piece of advice 
 from an older man: stop here, for your enemies are gone! 
 Do not wage war on creatures made of air, for that will 
 lame your arm and you will die of dry rot. Do not put 
 your trust in princes is another piece of advice given 
 you by a once powerful man who has now to step aside 
 and leave to the Lord to settle what is to become of his 
 
ACT THIRD 85 
 
 prostrated Church. Johannes Brask." {Speaking.} You have 
 conquered ! 
 
 Olof (joyfully). I thank Thee, Lord, for this hour. 
 (Pause.} No, it scares me, Christine! This fortune is too 
 great. I am too young to have reached the goal already. To 
 have no more to do oh, what a frightful thought! 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 feel- 
 ing that much remains undone very much, indeed! 
 Enter Courtier. 
 
 Courtier. Good-day to you, Secretary! And pleasant 
 news! [Exit Christine. 
 
 Olof. Be welcome! Some of it I have heard already. 
 
 Courtier. Thanks for your splendid answering of that 
 stupid Galle. You went after him like a man. A little too 
 fiercely, perhaps not quite so much 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 conditions agreed on : First, mutual support for the 
 resistance and punishment of all rebellions. 
 
 Olof. Go on, if you please. 
 
 Courtier. Second, the King shall have the right to take 
 possession of the palaces and fortified places of the bishops, 
 as well as to fix their incomes 
 
 Olof. Third 
 
86 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Courtier. Now comes the best of all the principal point 
 of the whole undertaking: Third, the nobility shall have 
 the right to claim whatever of its properties and inherit- 
 ances have fallen to churches and cloisters since the re- 
 vision by King Carl Knutsson in 1454 
 
 Olof. And fourth? 
 
 Courtier. Provided the heir can get twelve men under 
 oath to attest his right of inheritance at the assizes. (He 
 folds the document from which he 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 spe- 
 cial importance. 
 
 Olof. Let me hear them. 
 
 Courtier (reading again). There is a fifth point about 
 the right of preachers to preach the word of God, but, of 
 course, they have had that all the time. 
 
 Olof. Nothing more? 
 
 Courtier. Yes, then comes the ordinance: a register is to 
 be established showing the amount of tithes collected by 
 all bishops, chapters, and canons, 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 shall be surrendered to him for the use of the Crown; 
 furthermore, all appointments to spiritual offices and this 
 ought to interest you to spiritual offices, minor as well 
 as major, can hereafter be made only with the sanction of 
 the King, so that 
 
 Olof. Will you please read me the point dealing with 
 the faith 
 
ACT THIRD 87 
 
 Courtier. The faith there is nothing about it. Oh, yes, 
 let me see 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 King to you and a most sensible one 
 that, as the people are stirred up over all these innova- 
 tions, you must by no means disturb the old forms; must 
 not abolish masses, holy water, nor any other usage, nor fur- 
 thermore indulge in any reckless acts, for hereafter the 
 King will not close his eyes to your escapades as he has 
 had to do in the past, when he lacked power to do other- 
 wise. 
 
 Olof. I see ! And the new faith which he has permitted 
 me to preach so far? 
 
 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 very far. Oh, yes I came near forgetting the 
 best part of all. My dear Pastor, permit me to congratu- 
 late you! Here is your appointment. Pastor of the city 
 church, with an income of three thousand, at your age 
 indeed, you could now settle down in peace and enjoy life, 
 even if you were never to get any further. It is splendid to 
 have reached one's goal while still so young. I congratulate 
 you! \Exit. 
 
 Olof (Jlinging the appointment on the floor). So this is all 
 that I have fought and suffered for! An appointment! A 
 royal appointment! I have been serving Belial instead of 
 God! Woe be to you, false King, who have sold your Lord 
 and God! Alas for me, who have sold my life and my 
 
88 MASTER OLOF 
 
 labors to mammon! O God in Heaven, forgive me! (He 
 throws himself, weeping, on a bench .) 
 
 Enter Christine and Gert. Christine comes forward, while 
 Gert remains in 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 her away.) 
 
 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, is n't he? Had n't we better 
 begin with the Emperor 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 be open 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 and for us! 
 
 Christine. Olof, for Heaven's sake, stop! 
 
 Olof. Leave me, child ! Here you will be drowned, or 
 you will drag me down. 
 
 Gert. What made you venture out in the storm, my 
 child? \_Exit Christine. 
 
 ( The ringing of bells, the joyful shouting of crowds, and the 
 sounding of drums and trumpets become audible} 
 
 Olof (going to the window}. What has set the people 
 shouting ? 
 
ACT THIRD 89 
 
 Gert. The King is providing them with a maypole and 
 music outside North Gate. 
 
 Olof. And are they not aware that he will chasten them 
 with swords instead of rods ? 
 
 Gert. Aware? If they were! 
 
 Olof. Poor children ! They dance to his piping and fol- 
 low his drums to their death! Must all die, then, in order 
 that one may live? 
 
 Gert. No, one shall die that all may live ! 
 (Olof makes a gesture of dismay and repugnance^) 
 
ACT IV 
 
 A Room In the House of Olof's Mother. At the right stands 
 a bedstead with four posts, in which the Mother is lying sick. 
 Christine is asleep on a chair. Lars Pedersson is renewing the 
 oil of the night-lamp and turning 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 her sleep. He crosses the room and wakens 
 her.) Christine! (She wakes with a start.) Go to bed, child; 
 I will watch. 
 
 Christine. No, I will wait. I must speak to her before 
 she dies I think Olof should be here soon. 
 
 Lars. It is for his sake you are watching! 
 
 Christine. Yes, and you must n'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 the carved image of some saint standing 
 on a shelf. The smaller and weaker he can make me, 
 the greater is his pleasure in placing his strength at my 
 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! 
 
ACT FOURTH 91 
 
 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 shall soon die. 
 
 Lars. Is not your own son worthy of receiving your last 
 confidences? 
 
 Mother. No, he has done nothing to deserve them. Has 
 Marten come yet? 
 
 Lars. Marten is a bad man. 
 
 Mother. O Lord, how terrible Thy punishment! My 
 children standing between myself and Thee! Am I then 
 to be denied the consolations of religion in my last mo- 
 ments? You have taken my life do you want to destroy 
 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 let her die in the deception practised on her 
 by a miserable wretch like Marten and perhaps get her 
 thanks for it or shall we turn her final prayer 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 such as those my mother is to be pre- 
 pared 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 ? 
 
92 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Lars (going out). May God forgive me! 
 
 Christine. Olof would never have done that ! 
 (Lars returns with Marten and Nils, whereupon he leads 
 Christine out of the room.) 
 
 Marten (going up to the bed}. She's sleeping. 
 
 Nils (places a box on the floor, opens it, and begins to take 
 out aspersorium, censer, chrismatory, palms, and candles). That 
 means we can't go to work yet. 
 
 Marten. If we have waited all this time, we can af- 
 ford to wait a little longer provided that damned priest 
 does n't show up. 
 
 Nils. Master Olof, you mean? Do you think that 
 fellow out there noticed anything? 
 
 Marten. What do I care? As soon as the old woman 
 gives up the coin, I am free. 
 
 Nils. You're a pretty thorough-paced rascal, you are! 
 
 Marten. Yes, but I am getting tired of it. I am begin- 
 ning to long for peace. Do you know what life is? 
 
 Nils. No. 
 
 Marten. Pleasure! "The flesh was God!" Isn't that 
 the way it's written somewhere? 
 
 Nils. "The Word became flesh," you mean? 
 
 Marten. Oh, yes of course! 
 
 Nils. You might have been a pretty big man, with your 
 head! 
 
 Marten. Yes, indeed! That's what they feared, and 
 that 's why they whipped the soul out of my body in the 
 convent for after all I had a soul once! But now there 's 
 nothing but body left, and now the body is going to have 
 its turn. 
 
 Nils. And I suppose they whipped all conscience out of 
 you at the same time? 
 
ACT FOURTH 93 
 
 Marten. Well, practically. But now I want that re- 
 cipe for spiced Rochelle 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 the one or the other. Well, you take a gallon 
 of wine and half a pound of cardamom that has been well 
 cleaned 
 
 Marten. 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 : 
 Nee scelus nostrum proferes ad tequam 
 Fender e lane em. 
 
 Mother. Is that you, Marten? 
 
 Marten. It 's Brother Nils praying to the Holy Virgin. 
 (Nils lights the censer without interrupting his reading?) 
 
 Mother. What a precious boon to hear the word of the 
 Lord in the sacred tongue! 
 
 Marten. No sweeter sacrifice is known to God than the 
 prayers of pious souls. 
 
 Mother. Like the incense, my heart is set on fire with 
 holy devotion. 
 
 Marten (sprinkling her with holy water). The stains of 
 sin are by your God washed off! 
 
 Mother. Amen! Marten, I am passing away The 
 godlessness of the King makes it impossible for me by 
 earthly gifts to strengthen the Holy Church in her power 
 of saving souls. You are a pious man take my prop- 
 erty and pray for me and for my children. Pray that the 
 
94 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Almighty may turn their hearts away from all lies, so that 
 some time we may meet again in heaven. 
 
 Marten (taking the bag of money she hands htm). Good- 
 wife, your sacrifice is acceptable to the Lord, and for your 
 sake my prayers will be heard by God. 
 
 Mother. I want to sleep awhile in order to be strong 
 enough to receive the last sacrament. 
 
 Marten. No one shall disturb your final moments not 
 even those who were your children once. 
 
 Mother. It seems cruel, Father Marten, but it 's the will 
 of God. (She falls asleep', Marten and Nils withdraw from 
 the bed.) 
 
 Marten (opening the bag and kissing the gold coins). What 
 stores of pleasure lie hidden beneath the hardness of this 
 gold Ah! 
 
 Nils. Are we going now? 
 
 Marten. Oh, we might, as our errand here is done, but 
 I think it would be a pity to let the old woman die unsaved. 
 
 Nils. Unsaved? 
 
 Marten. Yes! 
 
 Nils. Do you believe in that? 
 
 Marten. It's hard to know what one is to believe now- 
 adays. One dies happily in this faith, and another in that. 
 All assert that they have found the truth. 
 
 Nils. And if you were to die now, Marten ? 
 
 Marten. That 's out of the question ! 
 
 Nils. But if? 
 
 Marten. Then I suppose I should go to heaven like the 
 rest. But I should prefer to settle a small account with 
 Master Olof first. You see, there is one pleasure that sur- 
 passes all the rest, and that 's the pleasure of revenge. 
 
 Nils. What has he done to you? 
 
ACT FOURTH 95 
 
 Marten. He has dared to see through me; he has ex- 
 posed me; he can read what I am thinking Oh! 
 
 Nils. And that 's why you hate him ? 
 
 Marten. Is n't that enough ? (Somebody is heard knocking 
 on the door leading to the street.} Somebody is coming ! Read, 
 damn you! 
 
 (Nils begins to drone out the same verse as before. The sound 
 of a key being inserted in the lock is heard. The door is opened 
 from the outside} 
 
 Enter Olof, looking greatly agitated. 
 
 Mother (waking up). Father Marten! 
 
 Olof (goes to the bed). Here is your son, mother! Why 
 did n't you let me know 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 for heaven. Father Marten ! Bring 
 here the sacred ointment, so that I may die in peace. 
 
 Olof. So that's why you didn't call me! (He catches 
 sight of the money bag which Marten has forgotten to hide, and 
 snatches it away from the monk} Oh, souls are being bar- 
 tered here ! And this was to be the price ! Leave this room 
 and this death-bed! Here is my place, not yours! 
 
 Marten. You mean to prevent us from fulfilling our 
 office? 
 
 Olof. I am showing you the door! 
 
 Marten. As long as we are not suspended, we are doing 
 our duty here by the King's authority, and not by the Pope's. 
 
 Olof. I shall cleanse the Church of the Lord without 
 regard to the will of King or Pope. 
 
 Mother. Will you plunge my soul into perdition, Olof? 
 Will you let me die with a curse? 
 
96 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Olof. Calm yourself, mother ! You are not going to die in 
 a lie. Seek your God in prayer, He is not so far away as you 
 believe. 
 
 Marten. A man who won't save his own mother from 
 the pangs of purgatory must 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 that rubbish! (He kicks the ritual accessories 
 across the floor?) 
 
 Marten. \ '11 go if you '11 let me have the money your 
 mother has given to the Church. 
 
 Mother. So that 's why you came, Olof? You wanted 
 my gold ! Let him have it, Marten. I'll let you have all of 
 it, Olof, if you will only leave me in 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 beg you! 
 
 Marten (grabbing the bag and going out with Nils). 
 Where the Devil is abroad, there our power ends, Dame 
 Christine! (To Olof.) As a heretic you are lost for all eter- 
 nity ! As a law-breaker you will get your punishment right 
 here! Beware of the King! \Exeunt. 
 
 Olof (kneeling beside his mother s bed). Mother, listen to 
 me before you die! (The Mother has lost consciousness.) Mo- 
 ther, mother, if you are alive, speak to your son ! Forgive 
 me, but I could not act except as I have 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 has heard 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 has cost you 
 so much in toil and tears? Forgive me! 
 
ACT FOURTH 97 
 
 Mother. Olof, my soul is no longer of this world it 's 
 out of another life I speak to you : turn back ! Break that 
 unclean bond which ties your body 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 angry look 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 His ire and it is you who now cast me 
 into the flames of His wrath! Cursed be the hour when 
 I bore you! (She dies.} 
 
 Olof. Mother ! Mother ! (He takes her hand} She 's dead ! 
 And she has not forgiven me! Oh, if your soul be still 
 within this room, behold your son : I will do your will, 
 and what was sacred to you shall be sacred to me! (He 
 lights the tall wax candles left behind by the friars and places 
 them around the bed} You shall have the consecrated can- 
 dles that are to light your road. (He puts a palm leaf in 
 her hand} And with this palm of peace shall come forget- 
 fulness of that last struggle with what was earthly. Oh, 
 mother, if you see me now, then you must forgive me! 
 (In the meantime the sun has risen, and the red glow of its 
 first rays lights up the curtains; at the sight of it, Olof leaps 
 to his feet} You make my candles fade, O morning sun! 
 You have more love than I ! (He goes to 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 to the bed and kneels for a moment; then he rises 
 
98 MASTER OLOF 
 
 again). She is dead! (He prays 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 cere- 
 monies? (Pause?) 
 
 Olof (irritated and humiliated}. I weakened for a mo- 
 ment. 
 
 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 time I 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 begins absentmindedly to extinguish the candles} 
 
 Olof. What are you doing, dear? 
 
 Christine. Why, it is full daylight. 
 
ACT FOURTH 99 
 
 (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 fore- 
 head, the look 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 
 she disappeared, then at each other.} 
 
 Lars. I beg you, Olof, as your friend and brother, don't 
 go on as you have been doing. 
 
 Olof. The old story! But he who has put his axe to the 
 tree cannot draw back until the tree is down. The King has 
 betrayed our cause. Now I will see what I can do for it. 
 
 Lars. The King is wise. 
 
 Olof. He is a miser, a traitor, and a protector of the 
 nobility. First he 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 three million people, telling them: "Your faith is false; 
 believe my words instead" do you think it possible that 
 they would at once cast aside their most intimate and 
 most keenly experienced conviction, which until then had 
 been a support to them in sorrow as well as in joy? No, 
 the life of the soul would be in a bad condition, indeed, 
 if all the old things could be disposed of so quickly. 
 
 Olof. But it is not so. The whole people is full of doubt. 
 Among the priests there is hardly one who knows what 
 to believe if he cares to believe anything at all. Every- 
 thing is ready for the new, and it is only you who are to 
 blame you weaklings whose consciences will not permit 
 you to sow doubt where nothing but a feeble faith remains, 
 
 Lars. Look out, Olof! You wish to play the part of 
 God. 
 
ioo MASTER OLOF 
 
 Olof. Well, that is what we must do, for I don't think 
 that He Himself intends to come down to us any more. 
 
 Lars. You are tearing down and tearing down, Olof, so 
 that soon there will be nothing left, and when people ask, 
 u 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 to another? Do you think that Luther has 
 given us anything new? No! He has merely torn away the 
 screens that had been placed around the light. The new 
 that I want is doubt of the old, not because it is old, but be- 
 cause it is decaying. (Lars points toward their mother s body.} 
 I know what you mean. She was too old, and I thank 
 God that she is dead. Now I am free 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 memory as you have, but if she had not died 
 now, I don't know how far my sacrifices might have 
 gone. Have you noticed in the springtime, brother, how 
 the fallen leaves of yesteryear cover the ground as if to 
 smother all the young things that are coming out? What 
 do these do ? They push aside the withered leaves, or pass 
 right through them, because they must get up! 
 
 Lars. You are right to a certain extent. Olof, you 
 broke the laws of the Church during a time of lawless- 
 ness and unrest. What could be forgiven then must be 
 punished now. Don't force the King to appear worse than 
 he is. Don't let your scorn for the law and your wilful- 
 ness force him to punish a man to whom he acknowledges 
 himself indebted. 
 
ACT FOURTH 101 
 
 Olof. Nothing is more wilful than his own rule, and he 
 must learn to tolerate the same thing in others. Tell me 
 you have taken service with the 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 ones have 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, but not 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 a self- 
 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 our society Concordia res parvts crescunt 
 We mean to continue the Reformation Gert is a far- 
 sighted man I seem so small beside him Good-night, 
 Lars! (He falls asleep on a chair.) 
 
 Lars (stands looking at him with solicitude). Poor brother 
 may God protect you! (Resounding blows on the street 
 door are heard.) What 's that? (He goes to the window.) 
 
 Gert (outside). For God's sake, open ! 
 
102 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Lars. Why, it is n'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 ! (She wraps him up in the blanket.} Oh, that I 
 were Sleep, so that you might flee to me when tired out 
 by your struggles ! 
 
 ( The rattle of a heavy cart is heard; then the cart comes to a 
 stop outside the house?) 
 
 Olof (waking up with a start). Is it five already? 
 
 Christine. No, it is only three. 
 
 Olof. Was n'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 be? 
 
 Olof (going to the window). The headsman's cart ! No, 
 it is n'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! The angel 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 be left a moment in the house. 
 
 Olof. Then Marten was the angel of death and all 
 is nothing but a lie. 
 
 Gert. Look out of the window, and you'll see that the 
 
ACT FOURTH 103 
 
 cart is loaded full. (Blows are heard at the street door again.) 
 You hear! They 're waiting! 
 
 Olof. Without proper burial ? That shall never be! 
 
 Lars. Without ceremonies, Olof! 
 
 Gert. Come away with me, Christine, from this dreadful 
 place! I'll take you out of the city to some healthier spot. 
 
 Christine. I will stay with Olof after this. If you, father, 
 had loved me 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 she shall 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 re- 
 member 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's punishment 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 
 appears a partly demolished convent building, from which a 
 gang of workmen are carrying out timber and debris. At the 
 left is a mortuary chapel. Its windows are lighted from within, 
 and whenever the door is opened, a brilliantly illuminated cru- 
 cifix on the chancel wall, with a sarcophagus standing in front 
 of it, becomes visible. A number of the graves have been opened. 
 The moon is just rising from behind the ruined convent. Wind- 
 rank is seated outside the chapel door. Singing is heard from 
 within the 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. Did n't you hear what I told you ? 
 
 Nils. Has your scurvy ending as a skipper affected you 
 so badly that you think 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'll never take a drink again until the 
 day after to-morrow. 
 
 Nils. But it 's a fine remedy against the plague, and 
 with all this cadaverous stuff about, you had better be 
 careful. 
 
ACT FIFTH 105 
 
 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 by Nils.) 
 
 Nils. Only a drop ! But tell me, are you suffering from 
 vertigo since you are 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 me into 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. Sing- 
 ing is heard outside?) 
 
 Nils. Here come the nuns of St. Clara to celebrate the 
 memory of their saint for the last time. 
 
 Windrank. That 's fine mummery in days like these 
 when everybody is getting educated. 
 
 Nils. They have obtained the King's permission. You 
 see, the plague broke out in the parish of St. Clara, and 
 some believe it was because of the godless destruction of 
 St. Clara's convent. 
 
 Windrank. And now they mean to drive away the plague 
 with singing as if that bugaboo were a hater of music. 
 
io6 MASTER OLOF 
 
 But, of course, it wouldn't be a wonder if he did flee from 
 their hoarse screeching. 
 
 Nils. Will you please tell me who has dared to invade 
 this last sanctuary for it's here the bones of the Saint 
 are to be deposited before the place is torn down en- 
 tirely. 
 
 Windrank. Then there '11 be a fight, I fear. 
 
 The singing has drawn nearer. A procession enters, made up 
 of Dominican friars and Franciscan nuns, headed by Marten. 
 They come to a halt and continue singing, while the workmen 
 are making a great deal of noise in the background. 
 
 Procession. 
 
 Cur super vermes luteos furorem 
 Sumis, O magni fabricator orbis! 
 )uid sumus quam fex, putris, umbra, pulvis 
 Glebaque terra! 
 
 Marten (to the Abbess). You can see, my sister, how the 
 abode of the Lord has been despoiled. 
 
 Abbess. The Lord who has delivered us into the hands 
 of the Egyptians will also set us free in due time. 
 
 Marten (to the workmen). Cease working, and do not dis- 
 turb our pious task! 
 
 Overseer. Our orders are to work day and night until 
 this den has been torn down. 
 
 Abbess. Alas, that unbelief has spread so far down among 
 the people! 
 
 Marten. We are celebrating this feast with the permis- 
 sion of the King. 
 
 Overseer. Well, I don't mind ! 
 
 Marten. And therefore I command you to cease your 
 noise. I '11 appeal directly to your workmen, whom you 
 
ACT FIFTH 107 
 
 have forced into this shameless undertaking. I '11 ask 
 them if they have any respect whatever left for holy 
 
 Overseer. You had better not, for I am in command 
 here. Furthermore, I can tell you that they are glad enough 
 to have a chance of tearing down these hornets' nests for 
 which they themselves have had to pay and then, too, 
 they are pretty thankful to earn something during a time 
 of famine. (He goes toward the background.} 
 
 Marten. Let us forget the wickedness and tumult of this 
 world. Let us enter the sacred place and pray for them. 
 
 Abbess. Lord, Lord, the cities of Thy sanctuary are laid 
 waste! Zion is laid waste, and Jerusalem is lying desolate! 
 
 Windrank. 100. Nobody can get in here! 
 
 The Conspirators (within the chapel}. We swear! 
 
 Marten. 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 permis- 
 sion ! 
 
 The door of the chapel is thrown open and the conspirators ap- 
 pear; among them Olof, Lars Andersson, Gert, the German, 
 the Dane, the Man from Smdland, and others. 
 
 Olof (much excited}. What kind of buffoonery is this? 
 
 Marten. Make way for the handmaidens of St. Clara ! 
 
 Olof. Do you think your idols can keep away the plague 
 that God has sent you as a punishment? Do you think the 
 Lord will find those pieces of bone you carry in the box 
 there so pleasant that He forgives all your dreadful sins ? 
 Take away that abomination! (He takes the reliquary from 
 the Abbess and throws it into one of the open graves.} From 
 dust you have come, and to dust you shall return, even if 
 
io8 MASTER OLOF 
 
 your name was Sancta Clara da Spoleto and you ate only 
 three ounces of bread a day and slept among the swine at 
 night! (The nuns scream.} 
 
 Marten. 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 he dreads 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 when he permitted the worship of idols? 
 He smote him and all his people. Thus the righteous is 
 made to suffer with the unrighteous. In the name of the 
 one omnipotent God, I declare this worship of Baal abol- 
 ished, even if all the kings of the earth give their permit. 
 The Pope wanted to sell my soul to Satan, but I tore the 
 contract to pieces do you remember? Should I then fear 
 a King who wants to sell his people to the Baalim ? (He 
 tears the document to pieces?) 
 
 Marten (to his followers). You are my witnesses that he 
 has defamed the King. 
 
 Olof (to his followers). And you are my witnesses before 
 God that I have led the people of a godless King away 
 from him ! 
 
 Marten. Listen, ye faithful! It is because of this heretic 
 that God has smitten us with the plague it is the pun- 
 ishment of God, and it fell first of all on his mother. 
 
 Olof. Listen, ye faithless papists ! It was the punishment 
 of the Lord on me because I had served Sennacherib 
 against Judah. I will atone my crime by 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 glare pervades the place. The crowd is frightened?) 
 
 Olof (mounting one of the graves). Heaven is weeping 
 
ACT FIFTH 109 
 
 blood over your sins and your idolatry. Punishment shall 
 be meted out, for those in authority have fallen into wrong- 
 doing. Can't you see that the very graves are yawning for 
 prey 
 
 (Gert seizes Olof by the arm, whispers to him, and leads him 
 down from the mound. The crowd is panic-stricken^) 
 
 Abbess. Give us back our reliquary, so that we may 
 abandon this home of desolation. 
 
 Marten. It is better to let the bones of the Saint remain 
 in this consecrated soil than to have them touched by the 
 vile hands of heretics ! 
 
 Olof. You are afraid of the plague, cowards that you 
 are! Is your faith in the sacred bones no stronger? 
 (Gert whispers to Olof again. The procession has in the mean- 
 time scattered, so that only a part of it remains on the stage.) 
 
 Olof (to Marten). Now you should be satisfied, you 
 hypocrite ! Go and tell him whom you serve that a box of 
 silver is about to be buried here, and he '11 dig it out of the 
 earth with his own nails. Tell him that the moon, which 
 is usually made of silver, has turned into gold, merely to 
 make your master raise his eyes toward heaven for once. 
 Tell him that you, by your blasphemous buffooneries, have 
 succeeded in provoking an honest man's wrath 
 
 [Exeunt Marten 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, a people steps forth to make its confes- 
 sion. Do you acknowledge your oath? 
 
no MASTER OLOF 
 
 Olof and Lars. We have sworn ! 
 
 Gert. This book is the result of my silent labors. On 
 every page you will find a cry of distress, a sigh from thou- 
 sands who have been blind enough to think it God's will 
 that they should suffer the tyranny of one man who have 
 thought it their duty not even to hope for liberation. (Olof 
 takes the volume and begins to read?) You shall hear com- 
 plaints all the way from the primeval forests of Norrland 
 down to the Sound. Out of the wreckage from the churches 
 the King is building new castles for the nobility and new 
 prisons for the people. You shall read how the King is 
 bartering away law and justice by letting murderers escape 
 their punishment if they seek refuge at the salt-works. You 
 shall read how he is taxing vice by letting harlots pay for 
 the right to ply their traffic. Yea, the very fishes of the riv- 
 ers, the water of the sea itself, have been usurped by him. 
 But the end is in sight. The eyes of the people have been 
 opened. There is seething and fermenting everywhere. Soon 
 the tyranny will be crushed, and the people shall be free ! 
 
 Olof. Who wrote the songs in this book? 
 
 Gert. The people! These are songs of the people 
 so they sing who feel the yoke pressing. I have visited city 
 and country, asking them : "Are you happy?" These are 
 the answers! I have held assizes. Here are the verdicts 
 entered. Do you believe that a million wills may conquer 
 one ? Do you believe that God has bestowed this land with 
 all its human souls and all its property upon a single man, 
 for him to deal with as it suits his pleasure ? Or do you not 
 rather believe that he should do the will of all? You do 
 not answer? You are awed, I see, by the thought that it 
 may come to an end! Listen to my confession! To-mor- 
 row the oppressor dies, and you shall all be free! 
 
ACT FIFTH in 
 
 Olof and Lars. What are you saying? 
 
 Gert. You did n'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 done all this? 
 
 Olof. Supposing Gert be right what do you say, Lars ? 
 
 Lars. I was n't born to lead. 
 
 Olof. All are born to lead, but all are not willing to sac- 
 rifice the flesh. 
 
 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 Minister has established a new spiritual kingdom 
 at Muhlhausen. You don't know that all Europe is in re- 
 volt. Who was Dacke, if not a defender of the oppressed? 
 What have the Dalecarlians meant by all their rebellions, 
 if not to defend their freedom against him who broke his 
 plighted faith? He does such things and goes unpunished, 
 but when they want to defend themselves, 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 not dare! To-morrow, in the church, the mine 
 will go off, and that will be a signal for the people to rise 
 and choose a ruler after their own heart. 
 
ii2 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Olof (turning over the leaves of the boo). If it be the will 
 of all, then nobody can stop it. Gert, let me take this book 
 to the King and show him what is the will of his people, 
 and he will grant them their rights. 
 
 Gert. Oh, you child! Fora moment he may be scared, and 
 perhaps restore a silver pitcher to some church. Then he '11 
 point toward heaven and say: "It is not by my own will 
 that I sit here and do you wrong, but by the will of God ! " 
 
 Olof. Then the will of God be done! 
 
 Gert. But how? 
 
 Olof. He must die that all may live. Murderer, ingrate, 
 traitor those will be my names, perchance. I am sacri- 
 ficing everything, even my honor, my conscience, and my 
 faith could I possibly give more for those pitiable 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 know that Marten is a spy, and perhaps sen- 
 tence has already been pronounced against the rebel ! 
 
 Olof. Well, I won't repent and why should I repent 
 of an act that implies the carrying out of God's own judg- 
 ment? Forward, then, in the name 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. 
 
ACT FIFTH 113 
 
 Christine. You look so sorrowful! Oh, I know you now! 
 It was you to whom Olof was talking that night in Great- 
 church. 
 
 Harlot. You must n't let it be seen that you are talking 
 to me. You don't know 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 wo- 
 man, Olof told me. Why should 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 man to whom you gave your love? 
 
 Christine. Worthless? 
 
 Harlot. Oh, pardon to one who loves, no one seems 
 worthless! To whom did 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 in him, 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 the unworthiness 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 me a little one so that I may at least 
 have one creature to love! 
 
n 4 MASTER OLOF 
 
 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 who have 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 at all. 
 
 Harlot. Do you know the wife of Master Olof ? 
 
 Christine. Why, that is I ! 
 
 Harlot. You? Oh, why did n't I guess at once? Can you 
 forgive me a moment's doubt? How could vice look like 
 you and him? Alas! You must leave me. You are a child, 
 still ignorant of wickedness. You must not be talking 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! They have broken into our house, and my hus- 
 band is not to be found. Take me away from here home 
 to yourself anywhere. You must be a good woman 
 you cannot be wicked 
 
 Harlot (interrupting her). If I tell you that the brutality 
 of the crowd would n't hurt you half so much as my com- 
 pany, then perhaps you will forgive me for leaving 
 
 Christine. Who are you? 
 
 Harlot. I am an outcast on whom has been fulfilled that 
 curse which God hurled at woman after the fall of our 
 first parents. Ask me no more, for if I told you more, your 
 contempt would goad me to a self-defence that would be 
 
ACT FIFTH 115 
 
 still more contemptible. Here comes somebody who per- 
 haps will be generous enough to escort you, if you prom- 
 ise to let him have your honor and virtue and eternal peace 
 for his trouble for that is probably the least he will ac- 
 cept 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 among the corpses? See here, my good ladies, 
 please don't ask me anything, for now I can't guarantee 
 that I won't answer. The day after to-morrow I '11 tell 
 you all about it, for then it '11 be too late. Perhaps you 're 
 some of those nuns that have been made homeless? Well, 
 although women are nothing but women, I don't think 
 I have any right to be impolite, for all that the sun set 
 long ago. Of course, there is an old law saying that no- 
 body can be arrested after sunset, but though the law is a 
 bugbear, I think it 's too polite to insist on anything when 
 it's a question of ladies. Hush, hush, tongue! Why, the 
 old thing is going like a spinning-wheel, but that comes 
 from that infernal gin! Why should I be dragged into 
 this kind of thing? Of course, I '11 get well paid and be a 
 man of means, but don't believe that I am doing it for the 
 sake of the money! It's done now, but I don't want to 
 I don't want to ! I want to sleep in peace nights and have 
 no ghosts to trouble me. Suppose I go and tell? No, then 
 they '11 arrest me. Suppose somebody else would go and 
 tell? Perhaps one of you nuns might be so kind as to do it? 
 
 Christine (who has been conferring with the Harlot). If you 
 have anything on your conscience that troubles you, please 
 tell us. 
 
n6 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Windrank. Am I to tell? That 's just what I want to get 
 out of, but this is horrible, and I can't stand it any longer. 
 I am forced to do it. Why should 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 all means, go ahead and tell about it 
 at once or I'll have no peace no peace 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 he is 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 be murdered. 
 
 Christine. When is it going to happen? 
 
 Windrank. Why, to-morrow in Greatchurch right 
 in church! [At a signal from Christine, the Harlot leaves. 
 
 Christine. How could they pick you for such a deed? 
 
 Windrank. Well, you see, I have a connection or two 
 among the church attendants, and then I am poor, of 
 course. What the devil does it matter who puts the match 
 to the powder, if only some shrewd fellow is pointing the 
 gun ? And then we have several other little schemes in re- 
 serve, although I 'm to fire the first shot. But why don't 
 you run off" and tell about it? 
 
 Christine. It has already been done. 
 
 Windrank. Well, God be thanked and praised! Good- 
 bye, there goes all my money! 
 
 Christine. Tell me who you are, you conspirators. 
 
 Windrank. No, that I won't tell! 
 
ACT FIFTH 117 
 
 Enter Nils. He crosses the stage followed by a troop of soldiers 
 and a crowd 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 seen Olof Pedersson? 
 
 Windrank. Why? 
 
 Nils. Because he is wanted. 
 
 Windrank. No, I have n't seen him. Are there any 
 others wanted? 
 
 Nils. Yes, many. 
 
 Windrank. No, I have n't seen any of them. 
 
 Nils. Well, it will soon be your turn. \JLxit. 
 
 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 the graves. Windrank is suddenly sobered and gen- 
 uinely moved.) Good Lord in heaven, it must be his wife! 
 (He goes to Christine.} I think I 've killed her! Oh, Hans, 
 Hans, all you can do now is to get a rope for yourself! 
 What business did you have to get mixed up with the high 
 and mighty? Come here, somebody, and help a poor 
 woman ! 
 
 Enter Olof, led by soldiers carrying torches', as he catches sight 
 of Christine, he tears himself loose and throws himself on his 
 knees beside her. 
 
n8 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Ohf. 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 in the pillory near the entrance. The organ is playing 
 and the bells are ringing. The service is just ended, and the 
 people are leaving the church. The Sexton and his wife are 
 standing by themselves in a corner near 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 never stirred up any trouble, so I can't under- 
 stand how he could want to have anything to do with such 
 dreadful things. 
 
 Sexton. The Chancellor has always had a queer streak, 
 although he has never said much, and though he was par- 
 doned, it cost him everything he had. I can't help being 
 sorry for Master Olof; I have always had a liking 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 die to-day. 
 
 Sexton. Well, Lord, Lord, if I had n't clean forgotten 
 about it! But then it doesn't seem quite right to me, 
 either. 
 
ACT FIFTH 119 
 
 Wife. Do you know if he has repented ? 
 
 Sexton. I doubt very much, for I am sure his neck is 
 just as stiff as ever. 
 
 Wife. But I suppose he'll thaw out a little now, when 
 he sees his class of children whom they would n't let him 
 prepare for confirmation. 
 
 Sexton. Well, I must say that the King can be pretty 
 mean when he turns that side to. Now he is making the 
 pastor do church penance the very same day his children 
 are being confirmed. It 's almost as bad as when he made 
 the dean drink with the headsman, or when he sent those 
 two prelates riding through the city with crowns of birch 
 bark on their heads. 
 
 Wife. And his own brother Lars has been sent to shrive 
 him. 
 
 Sexton. See, here come the children! How sad they're 
 looking well, I don't wonder. I think I '11 have to go in 
 and have a cry myself 
 
 Enter the children about to be confirmed, boys and girls. They 
 begin to march past Olof, carrying bunches of flowers in their 
 hands. They look sad and keep their eyes on the ground. A num- 
 ber of older people accompany the children. A few curious per- 
 sons point out Olof and are rebuked by others. Last of all the 
 children in the procession comes Vilhelm, one of the scholars with 
 whom Olof was seen playing in the First Act. He stops timidly 
 in front of him, kneels, and drops his bunch of flowers at the 
 feet of Olof, who does not notice it because he has pulled down the 
 hood of his penitential robe so that it hides his face. Some of the 
 people mutter disapprovingly, while others show signs of pleasure. 
 Marten comes forward to take away the flowers, but is pushed 
 back by the crowd. Soldiers clear a path for Lars Pedersson, 
 
120 MASTER OLOF 
 
 who appears in canonicals. The crowd disappears gradually, 
 leaving Lars, Olof, and Gert alone on the stage. The playing 
 of the organ ceases, but the bells continue to toll. 
 
 Lars. Olof, the King has refused to listen to the petition 
 for pardon submitted 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 running quickly through my veins. 
 
 Lars. Have you repented? 
 
 Olof. No! 
 
 Lars. Do you want to pass into eternity with an unfor- 
 giving mind? 
 
 Olof. Oh, put aside the formulas, if you want me to 
 listen to you. I can't think that I am going to die now 
 there 's far too much of life and strength left in me. 
 
 Lars. I must tell you that I don't think so either, and 
 that it is for a new life in this world I am trying to pre- 
 pare you. 
 
 Olof. Then I may live? 
 
 Lars. If you will admit that you were mistaken in the 
 past, and if you will 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 does n't parley about one's convictions. 
 
 Lars. Even a mistake may turn into conviction. I shall 
 leave you to think the matter over. [Exit. 
 
 Gert. Our harvest was n't ready. It takes a lot of snow 
 
ACT FIFTH 121 
 
 to make the fall crops ripen nay, centuries must pass 
 before you will even see the first shoots. All the conspirators 
 are under arrest, they say, and te deums are sung on that 
 account. But they are mistaken; conspirators are abroad 
 everywhere in the royal apartments, in the churches, 
 and in the market-places but they dare not do what we 
 have dared. And yet they '11 reach that point some time. 
 Good-bye, Olof ! You must live a little longer, for you are 
 young. I shall die with the utmost pleasure. The name 
 of every new martyr becomes the rallying-cry for a new 
 host. Don't believe that a human soul was ever set on fire 
 by a lie. Don't ever distrust those feelings that shake you 
 to your inmost soul when you have seen some one suffer 
 spiritual or physical oppression. If the whole world tell 
 you that you are wrong, believe your own heart just the 
 same if you are brave enough to do so. The day when 
 you deny your self then you are dead, and eternal per- 
 dition will seem a mercy to one who has been guilty of 
 the sin against the Holy Ghost. 
 
 Olof. You speak of my release as though it were a cer- 
 tainty. 
 
 Gert. The Corporation has offered 500 ducats for your 
 ransom, and if it cost only 2000 to get Birgitta declared 
 a saint, then 500 should suffice to get you declared guilt- 
 less. The King does n'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 my daughter, and don't ever forget the great 
 Whitsunday ! 
 
122 MASTER OLOF 
 
 Constable. Master Olof, you are a young man who has 
 been led astray. The King will pardon you for the sake of 
 your youth, but as a safeguard he demands a retraction 
 wherein you take back whatever you have ventured beyond 
 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 mercy until you have fulfilled his condi- 
 tion. Here is the King's warrant. In a moment your fetters 
 may be shed, if so be your will, but it will be just as easy 
 to tear up this sheet of paper. 
 
 Olof. One who contents himself with 500 ducats is not 
 likely to care very much for a retraction 
 
 Constable. That is a lie! The headsman is waiting for 
 you. But pray listen to a few words from an old man. I, 
 too, have been young, and moved by strong passions. They 
 belong to youth; but those passions are meant 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 smile of 
 derision. I, too, wanted to build a little heaven here on 
 earth (speaking with marked emphasis) of course, on other 
 foundations than yours but soon I came to my senses, 
 and the chimeras were sent packing. I have no desire to 
 make you out a man wishing to gain notoriety by getting 
 himself talked about I don't believe anything of the kind. 
 You are moved by good intentions, but they are such 
 as must cause harm. Your blood is hot, and it blinds you 
 because you exercise no self-control. You preach freedom, 
 and you are plunging thousands into the slavery of license. 
 Retrace your steps, young man, and make atonement for 
 your errors ! Restore what you have torn down, and your 
 fellow-men will bless you! 
 
ACT FIFTH 123 
 
 Olof (agitated to a point of desperation). It is the truth 
 you speak ; I hear 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 whole youth and the best part of my manhood 
 lost, useless, wasted ? Oh, let me rather die together with 
 my mistake! 
 
 Constable. You should have broken loose from your 
 dreams earlier. But calm yourself! Your life is still ahead 
 of you. The past has been a school hard, to be sure, but 
 all the more wholesome. Hitherto you have given your 
 life to whims and follies. Now you have some inkling of 
 what reality demands of you. Outside that door your cred- 
 itors are waiting with their claims. Here are their bills. 
 The clergy of the young Church demand that you live 
 to finish what you have begun so splendidly. The City 
 Corporation demands its secretary for the Council. The 
 congregation demands its shepherd. The children of the 
 confirmation class demand their teacher. Those are your 
 legal creditors. But there is one more waiting outside, to 
 whom perhaps you owe more than to all the rest, and 
 who yet demands nothing at all : your young wife. You 
 have torn her from her father's side and set her adrift in 
 the storm. You have broken down her childhood faith 
 and filled her mind with restlessness. Your reckless deeds 
 have goaded the brutal mob into driving her out of her 
 own home. Yet she does not even demand your love: all 
 she asks of you is permission to spend a life of suffering 
 by your side. Now you can see that we, too, give a 
 little consideration to other people, although you call us 
 selfish. Let me open this door, which will lead you back 
 into the world. Discipline your heart before it hardens, 
 
i2 4 MASTER OLOF 
 
 and thank God for granting you more time to work for 
 mankind. 
 
 Olof (breaking into tears). I am lost ! 
 
 (Constable gives a sign to the Headsman, who removes the fet- 
 ters and the garb of penitence from Olof; then the Constable 
 opens the door to the sacristy, and delegates from the lords, the 
 clergy, and the city guilds enter.) 
 
 Constable. Olof Pedersson, formerly pastor of the city 
 church at Stockholm, do you hereby repent of your mis- 
 deeds and retract what you have said beyond and against 
 the King's order? Do you declare your willingness to keep 
 your oath to the sovereign of this realm, and to serve him 
 faithfully? 
 
 ( Olof remains silent. Lars Pedersson and Christine approach 
 him, while many 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 for- 
 ward to press his hand and utter words of congratulation^) 
 
 Olof (in the same cold voice). Before I leave this room, 
 let me be alone a moment with my God. I need it! Once 
 upon a time I struck the first blow 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 see- 
 ing Olof alone and free. 
 
 Vilhelm. I come to bid you farewell, Master Olof, before 
 you pass on to another life. 
 
 Olof (rising). You have not deserted me, Vilhelm! Help 
 
ACT FIFTH 125 
 
 me, then, to mourn 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 have done for us. It was I who gave you those 
 flowers, which you haven't noticed. They have been 
 trampled on, I see. I wanted to bring you a reminder of 
 the days when we were playing under the lindens in the 
 convent close at Strangnas. I thought it might do you good 
 to hear that we have never thanked God, as you said we 
 would, because you didn't return to us. We have never for- 
 gotten you, for it was you who relieved us of those cruel 
 penances, and it was you who flung open the heavy con- 
 vent doors and gave us back our freedom and the blue sky 
 and the happiness of living. Why you must die, we do not 
 know, but you could never do anything wrong. And if you 
 die because you have rendered help to some of those that 
 were oppressed, as they tell us, then you should not be 
 sorry, although it hurts very, very much. Once you told us 
 how Hus 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 into the hands of 
 God, and how he prophesied about the swan that should 
 come singing new songs in praise of awakened freedom. 
 That 's the way I have thought that you would meet your 
 death with your head thrown back, and your eyes toward 
 the sky, and the people crying: "So dies a witness!" 
 ( Olof leans against the pillory, his face showing how the words 
 of Vilhelm 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.} 
 
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