Mrten. Make way for the handmaidens of St. Clara!

Olof. Do you think your idols can keep away the plague that G.o.d 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 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.)

Mrten. 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 doc.u.ment to Olof.)

Olof. Do you know what the Lord did with the king of the a.s.syrians 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 G.o.d, I declare this worship of Baal abolished, 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--you remember? Should I then fear a King who wants to sell his people to the Baalim? (He tears the doc.u.ment to pieces.)

Mrten (to his followers). You are my witnesses that he has defamed the King.

Olof (to his followers). And you are my witnesses before G.o.d that I have led the people of a G.o.dless King away from him!

Mrten. Listen, ye faithful! It is because of this heretic that G.o.d has smitten us with the plague--it is the punishment of G.o.d, 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 a.s.syrians 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 blood over your sins and your idolatry. Punishment shall be meted out, for those in authority have fallen into wrongdoing. 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.

Mrten. 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 meantime scattered, so that only a part of it remains on the stage.)

Olof (to Mrten). 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'll 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 Mrten 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 G.o.d, a people steps forth to make its confession. Do you acknowledge your oath?

Olof and Lars. We have sworn!

Gert. This book is the result of my silent labors. On every page you will find a cry of distress, a sigh from thousands who have been blind enough to think it G.o.d'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 complaints 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 n.o.bility 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 rivers, 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 a.s.sizes. Here are the verdicts entered. Do you believe that a million wills may conquer one?

Do you believe that G.o.d 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! Tomorrow the oppressor dies, and you shall all be free!

Olof and Lars. What are you saying?

Gert. You didn't understand what I was talking about at our meetings.

Olof. You have deceived us!

Gert. Not at all! You are perfectly free. Two voices less mean nothing.

Everything is prepared.

Lars. Have you considered the consequences?

Gert. Fool! Is it not for the sake of the consequences that I have done all this?

Olof. Supposing Gert be right--what do you say, Lars?

Lars. I wasn't born to lead.

Olof. All are born to lead, but all are not willing to sacrifice 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 Munster has established a new spiritual kingdom at Muhlhausen. You don't know that all Europe is in revolt. 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.

Olof (turning over the leaves of the book). If it be the will of all, then n.o.body 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! For a moment he may be scared, and perhaps restore a silver pitcher to some church. Then he'll point toward heaven and say: "It is not by my own will that I sit here and do you wrong, but by the will of G.o.d!"

Olof. Then the will of G.o.d be done!

Gert. But how?

Olof. He must die that all may live. Murderer, ingrate, traitor--those will be my names, perchance. I am sacrificing 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 Mrten is a spy, and perhaps sentence has already been p.r.o.nounced against the rebel!

Olof. Well, I won't repent--and why should I repent of an act that implies the carrying out of G.o.d's own judgment? Forward, then, in the name of the Lord. [Exeunt.]