t tell.

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

Olof. How does he look?

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

[Enter Bishop Brask. All give way before him. The Lord High Constable,
who has returned in the meantime, goes to meet him and 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 depended upon.

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 antechamber, 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 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!