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?

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 secretary 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!

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 n.o.body 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, Secretary, but, of course, you are a freethinker?

Olof. I don't quite understand.

Courtier. Don't mind me, please. You see, I have been educated in Paris.

Francis the First--O Saint-Sauveur!--that's a man who has extreme views.

Do you know what he told me at a bal masque during the last carnival?

(Olof remains silent.) "Monsieur," he said, "la religion est morte, est morte," he said. Which didn't keep him from attending ma.s.s.

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," I 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 perceives what the spirit of the age demands, without trying to urge the ma.s.ses 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 a.s.sured--you are so far in advance of your time?

Olof. I fear I shall not get very far. My education was neglected, unfortunately--I studied in Germany, as you may know--and the 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 himself, or at least not waste any sparks of light on the brutish 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 centre which cannot be disturbed without everything going to pieces--the instability of which tends to upset everything? The name of it is--the n.o.bility. The n.o.bility is the thinking 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 historical outlook at all, you can see that it is so. The n.o.bility started the Crusades. The n.o.bility has done this and that and everything. Why is Germany being torn to pieces? Because the peasantry has risen against the n.o.bility, thus cutting off its own head. Why is France safe--la France? Because France is one with the n.o.bility, and the n.o.bility is one with France--because those two ideas are identical, inseparable. And why, I ask again, is Sweden at present shaken to its nethermost foundations? Because the n.o.bility has been crushed. Christian the Second was a man of genius. He knew how to conquer a country. He didn't cut off a leg or an arm--nay, he cut off the head. Well, then! Sweden must be saved, and the King knows how. The n.o.bility 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 a.s.s could talk?

Courtier. Gracious, no!

Olof. But I do.

Courtier. Really?

[Enter Lars Andersson.]

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

Olof (embracing him). Well met, Lars!

Courtier. Populace! [Exit.]

Lars. Well, how do you like living here?