pany. Now
I've got to go.

German. Oh, no! Just one more noggin--and then we can talk a little
more.

Man from Smaland. No, thanks, though I'm sure it's good of you, but
that's all I dare take, for otherwise I fear this will end badly. I've
wife and children at home, you see, and now I'm going home--to tell them
we're ruined--no--I don't dare to--I'm much obliged, Mr. German--let's
drink some more.

German. That's right! (They drink.)

Man from Smaland (emptying his cup and jumping up). Oh, damn the bitter
stuff! [Exit, staggering.]

German (to the Dane). O Lord--when that fellow wakes up!

(The Dane nods assent. The noise has been steadily increasing. The
fiddler is playing. Then the organ begins to play in the church.)

Windrank. It's strange, I think, that the King lets them have a
drinkshop in the church wall.

German. Does it hurt your conscience, skipper? The King doesn't know it,
you see.

Windrank. But they don't go together, the organ music and the singing in
here. I've always been a God-fearing man, ever since I was at home.

German (ironically). Happy the man brought up in that way! You had a
mother--

Windrank (moved). Yes--yes!

German. Who tucked you up nights and taught you to say: "Now I lay me
down to sleep."

Windrank. That's it!

German. And a fine woman she was!

Windrank (on whom the drink is beginning to show its effect.) Oh, if you
only knew!

German. The Lord has heard her prayers. You're weeping. So you must be a
good man.

Dane. Dear me!

German. If your mother could only see you now--with those tears in your
eyes!

Windrank. Oh, I know I'm a poor miserable sinner--I know it! But I tell
you--I've got a heart, damn it! Just let a poor wretch come and tell me
he is hungry, and I'll take off my own shirt and give it to him.

German. How about another drink?

Windrank. No, I don't think so.

(Several blows are struck on the iron door from the outside, causing
general excitement.)

Windrank. God-a-mercy!

German. Don't get scared. That's not the gate of heaven.

Windrank. I'll never drink another drop--I vow and swear!

German (to the Dane). What a blessed drink gin must be, seeing it can
move a rogue like that to sentimentality--nay, even to thoughts of
sobriety.

Dane. You're right. There is nothing like it.

German. It opens the heart wide and closes the head. Which means that it
makes good people of us, for those are called good, you know, who have
much