the door in the rear.]

Gert. Hold! What are you doing?

Knipperdollink. Gert!--Who is this man?

Gert. One of our own. Let him go, friends! Over there you see the
emissaries of the Devil!

(He points to Marten and Nils, who flee through the street door, closely
pursued by the Anabaptists. At the door Gert stops and turns toward
Olof. The Harlot is crouching in a corner of the room. Windrank is still
sleeping under one of the tables. Olof is standing in the middle of the
floor, sunk in deep thought.)

Gert (exhausted, throws himself on a bench). It's heavy work, Olof.

Olof. What have you been doing?

Gert. Oh, a little house-cleaning, to begin with.

Olof. For which you will pay dearly.

Gert. So far we have the upper hand. The whole city has been roused.
Rink is at work in St. George's Chapel. Tell me, has the King sent you
to oppose us?

Olof. He has.

Gert. That was a most sensible thing to do!

Olof. To-morrow I am to preach from the new pulpit.

Gert. Do you call this fulfilling your royal mission? Here you are,
still standing with your arms folded.

Olof. Come to church to-morrow with your brethren.

Gert. Is it going to be an archipapal sermon?

Olof. I have been put under the ban to-day.

Gert (jumps up and puts his arms around Olof). God bless you, Olof! That
is indeed the baptism of new birth!

Olof. I don't understand you yet. Why do you carry on like wild beasts?
You seem to be outraging all that is held sacred.

Gert (picking up the broken image of a saint). Do you call this fellow
holy? A St. Nicolaus, I think. Can it be possible, then, that Jesus
Christ has come down and lived among us to no purpose, as we are still
worshipping logs of wood? Can this be a god, which I can break to
pieces? See!

Olof. But he is sacred to the people.

Gert. So was the golden calf, and so was Zeus; so were Thor and Odin,
too. And yet they were struck down. (Catches sight of the Harlot.) Who's
that woman? Oh, the one I tried to save by sending her in here. Tell me
one thing, Olof. Have you been bought by the King?

Olof. Leave me, Gert! I hate you!

Gert. Who's that pig asleep over there?

Olof. When I face you, I seem to shrink. Leave me! I want to do my own
work, and not yours.

Gert. Listen!

Olof. You are trying to confuse my fate with your own.

Gert. Listen!

Olof. You have surrounded me with an invisible net. You have proclaimed
me an Anabaptist. How am I going to face the King?