never return to it again.

Gert. Christine, get out of this house, at least!

Christine. Not a step until Olof orders me.

Olof. I will no longer order you at all, Christine--remember that!

[Enter several Buriers.]

Burier. I've come for a body. No time to spare!

Olof. Begone from here!

Burier. The King's order!

Lars. Consider what you do, Olof! The law demands it!

Gert. This is no time to hesitate! The crazy mob is aroused against you.
This house was the first one to be marked, and they are crying: "God'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 crucifix 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.
Windrank 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. Didn'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.

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, th