kingdom 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'll bring disaster on yourself 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!

Gert. You shall have my secret: deal with it to suit yourself. The
King leaves for Malmoe 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 nothing but a couple
of lubberly tradesmen. A furrier and a grocer, who deny the use of
baptizing unconscious children, 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 crying 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 living 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 Catholics 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'll lead me into disaster.

Gert. Yes, if you call it a disaster to be robbed of all earthly
happiness, to be dragged into prison, to suffer poverty, to be scorned
and reviled fur 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