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_ ACT II - SCENE I
(A Room in the Foundation Wall of the Church of St. Nicolaus at Stockholm (generally known as Greatchurch), used as a beer-shop. A bar full of pots and mugs occupies the background. To the right of the bar stands a table, back of which appears an iron door. Two disguised friars (Marten and Nils) are seated at this table drinking beer. The other tables are surrounded by German mercenaries, peasants, and sailors. The door to the street is at the right. A fiddler is seated on top of a barrel. The soldiers are throwing dice. All are drunk and noisy. Hans Windrank, a man from Smaland, a German tradesman, and a Dane are seated together at one of the tables.)
GERMAN
(to the Dane).
So you defend a bloodthirsty brute like Christian?
DANE.
Oh, mercy, he's human, isn't he?
GERMAN.
Not, he's a monster! A bloodthirsty brute! A treacherous, cowardly Dane!
DANE.
Zounds! But you'd better not talk of blood. Do you remember the massacre on Kaeppling Island, when the Germans--
WINDRANK.
Listen to me, good Sirs! Let's be friends now, and have some fun, and I'll tell you about Americky.
GERMAN.
Are you going to blame us of Luebeck for what the Germans did?
DANE.
Oh, mercy, I was talking of the Germans only--
WINDRANK.
Listen, good Sirs, what's the use of quarrelling? (To the Tavern-keeper.) Four noggins of gin! Now let's be calm and agreeable, and I'll tell you of Americky.
(They are served.)
GERMAN
(sipping).
A noble drink! Think of it, good Sirs, how everything is advancing. To-day the grain is growing in the field--
WINDRANK.
And to-morrow it's made into wine. I wonder who first found out how it's done?
GERMAN.
Beg your pardon, but that's a German invention. I call it invention, because you discover Americky.
WINDRANK.
And the Germans never make any discoveries?
GERMAN.
'Sdeath!
WINDRANK.
Now, now! You're no German, you said.
DANE
(to the German).
Can you tell the who invented the story that the Swedes got their present king from the Germans?
(General laughter.)
GERMAN.
It was we of Luebeck what gave Sweden a liberator when she was on the verge of ruin.
WINDRANK.
Here's to the King!
DANE.
Here's to Luebeck!
GERMAN
(flattered).
Really I don't know how to--
WINDRANK.
Why, you aren't the King!
GERMAN.
Beg your pardon, but it was my Danish brother's--
DANE.
How can you be of Luebeck when you are a citizen of Stockholm?
WINDRANK
(to the Man from Smaland).
Why won't our silent brother drink at all?
MAN FROM SMALAND.
I'll drink your corn-juice, but when it comes to the King's health, I do like this!
(He crushes the tin cup and throws it on the floor.)
WINDRANK
(groping with one hand for his sheath knife.)
You won't drink the King's health?
MAN FROM SMALAND.
I've been drinking the cup he offered me so long that I don't care to drink his health any longer.
WINDRANK.
'Sblood!
GERMAN
(eagerly).
Hush, hush! Let's hear what he's got to say.
DANE
(in the same way).
Mercy, yes!
A MAN FROM SMALAND.
The Lord help me when I get home again!
WINDRANK
(sentimentally).
What is it, my dear man? Why do you look so sad? Do you need money? Look here, now! (He pulls out his purse.) I've half my wages left. What's the matter with you?
MAN FROM SMALAND.
Don't let us talk about it. More gin! Gin here! I've money, too. Do you see? Gold! (The liquor is served). It isn't mine, but I'll spend it on drink to the last farthing, and you'll please help me.
WINDRANK.
And yet it isn't your money--how can you do that?
GERMAN.
Who's wronged you, my dear fellow? I can see that you have fared badly.
A MAN FROM SMALAND.
I am ruined! You see, I got two hundred oxen on trust, and when I came to Stockholm the King's agent took charge of the whole business, and he said I couldn't sell them for more than he allowed. It's the King that fixes the price on oxen--it's the King that has ruined me.
GERMAN.
You don't say!
MAN FROM SMALAND.
Oh, I know a lot more. He means to take the priests and the monks away from us in order to give everything to the gentlefolk.
DANE.
To the gentlefolk?
MAN FROM SMALAND.
Exactly! I wish King Christian--God bless him!--had cut off a few more heads.
WINDRANK.
Well, is the King like that? I thought he had those noble fellows by the ear.
MAN FROM SMALAND.
He? No, he lets them be born with the right to cut oak on my ground, if I had any. For I did have a patch of land once, you see, but then came a lord who said that my great-grandmother had taken it all in loan from his great-grandfather, and so there was an end to that story.
GERMAN.
Why, is the King like that? I would never have believed it.
MAN FROM SMALAND.
Indeed he is! Those high-born brats run around with their guns in our woods and pick off the deer out of sheer mischief, but if one of us peasants were dying from hunger and took a shot at one of the beasts--well, then he wouldn't have to starve to death, for they'd hang him--but not to an oak--Lord, no! That would be a shame for such a royal tree. No, just to an ordinary pine. The pine, you see, has no crown, and that's why it isn't royal--and that's why the old song says:
The peasants we hanged in lines
From the tops of the tallest pities.
It has nothing to say about crowns, mind you.
GERMAN.
But the pine carries its head high just the same, and its back is straight.
MAN FROM SMALAND.
Drink, good Sirs! You're right welcome to 't. It's a blessed drink. If only I didn't have wife and children at home! Oh, my, my, my! But that's all one! Oh, I know a lot more, but I know how to keep it to myself, too.
WINDRANK.
What do you know?
GERMAN.
Maybe it's something diverting?
MAN FROM SMALAND.
You see--if you counted all the pines of Smaland, I think you'd find a whole lot more of them than of oaks.
GERMAN.
You think so?
WINDRANK.
I don't like you to talk badly of the King. I don't know what he is doing or saying, and it isn't my business either, but I know he takes good care of the shipping trade. Yes, it's he who has put ships on the Spanish trade, and who has made me a skipper, and so I've got no fault to find with him.
GERMAN.
He has done it out of sheer deviltry, just to hurt the trade of Luebeck--of Luebeck, to which he owes such a great debt!
MAN FROM SMALAND.
Well, he'll get what he deserves! A steer doesn't lose his horns when you make an ox of him. Many thanks for your company. 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 heart and little head.
DANE.
I'd go still farther. Gin makes us religious. For it kills reason, and reason is the rock that keeps religion from entering our hearts.
GERMAN.
Most holy is gin! Strange that--
DANE.
You need say no more!
(More blows are struck on the iron door.)
WINDRANK
(who has fallen asleep, is awakened by the blows).
Help! I die!
GERMAN.
What a pity to lose such a sweet soul!
(The door is pushed open so that the table at which Marten and Nils are seated is upset together with the mugs and cups on it. A woman wearing a red and black skirt, with a nun's veil thrown over her head, comes running into the room. For a moment Gert can be seen in the doorway behind her, but the door is immediately closed again.)
HARLOT
(with a startled glance at her surroundings).
Save me! The people want to kill me!
A GERMAN MERCENARY.
A harlot under a nun's veil! Ha-ha-ha!
(General laughter.)
MARTEN
(making the sign of the cross).
A harlot! Who dares to bring her into this respectable company? Master taverner, take her out of here, or she'll hurt the good name of the place and the sanctity of the church.
HARLOT.
Will nobody here save me? (In the meantime the tavern-keeper has seized her by the arm to lead her into the street.) Don't give me into the hands of that furious mob! I wanted to steal into the Lord's house that I might share in His grace--I wanted to start a new life--but the monks drove me out and set the people on me--until Father Gert came and saved me.
MARTEN.
You can hear for yourselves. She has polluted the Lord's temple. She wants to hide the garment of shame beneath the veil of sanctity.
GERMAN.
And there isn't enough of the veil.
MARTEN
(approaching the woman to tear the veil from her face).
Off with the mask, and let your abomination be seen by all!
(He draws back when he catches sight of her face.)
HARLOT.
So it's you, Marten--you murderer!
GERMAN.
Old chums!
MARTEN.
That's a shameless lie! I never have seen her before. I am Brother Marten, of the Dominicans, and Brother Nils here can be my witness.
NILS
(intoxicated).
I can testify--that Brother Marten has never seen this woman.
HARLOT.
And yet it was you, Nils, who showed me Marten's letter of absolution when I was driven out of the convent and he was permitted to stay.
NILS.
Yes--come to think of it!
MARTEN
(in a rage, pulling Nils by the sleeve).
You're lying--you, too! Can't you see he is drunk?
GERMAN.
My dear folks, I can testify that the reverend brother is drunk, and that's why he is lying!
CROWD
(with signs of disgust).
A drunken priest!
GERMAN.
Well, booze is absolution for lying. Isn't that so, Father Marten?
TAVERN-KEEPER.
Really, I can't let my house be the meeting-place for any kind of disturbance. If this goes on, I'll lose my customers and get hauled before the Chapter. Won't you please take away that miserable creature who's causing all this noise?
MARTEN.
Take her out, or I'll have you all banned! Don't you know that we are now within the consecrated walls of the church, although the Chapter allows this outhouse to be used for the material refreshment of travellers?
GERMAN.
Surely this room is holy, good folk, and surely the Lord doth dwell here.
(The crowd begins to drag the Harlot toward the street door.)
HARLOT.
Jesus Christ, help me!
[Enter Olof. He appears in the door, and pushes through the crowd until he reaches the Harlot, whose hand he takes so that he can pull her away from the drunken men about her.]
OLOF.
Answer me--who is this woman?
MARTEN.
She's no woman.
OLOF.
What do you mean?
MARTEN.
She is no man either, although she's disguised.
OLOF.
"She," you say--and yet not a woman?
MARTEN.
She's a harlot.
OLOF
(shocked, drops the woman's hand).
A harlot!
GERMAN.
Don't let go of her, Master Olof, or she'll run away.
OLOF.
Why are you laying hands on her? What is her crime?
GERMAN.
Going to church.
OLOF.
I see!
(He looks around.)
MARTEN.
What are you looking for?
OLOF
(catching sight of Marten).
A priest!
MARTEN.
I am a Black Friar.
OLOF.
Yes, I guessed that much. So it's you who have incited the people against her?
MARTEN.
I am protecting the church from foulness and trying to keep it free of vice. She is a banned woman, who has been trafficking with her own body, which should be a temple of the Lord. (The woman kneels before Olof.)
OLOF
(taking her by the hand).
But I, Dominican, dare to take her hand and match her against you. She has sold her body, you say--how many souls have you bought?--I am also a priest--Nay, I am a man, for I am not presumptuous enough to put a lock on God's own house, and as a sinful human creature I hold out my hand to my fellow-creature, who cannot be pure either. Let him who is without sin step forward and cast the first stone.--Step forward, Brother Marten, you angel of light, who have donned the black garments of innocence and shaved your hair so that no one may see how you have grown gray in sin! Or have you no stone ready, perhaps? Alas for you, then! What have you done with those you were to hand the people when they were crying for bread? Have you already given them all away?--Step forward, you highly respectable citizen.
(To Windrank, who is asleep on the floor.)
You, who are sleeping the sleep of a brute, why don't you wake up and fling your knife at her?--Do you see how he is blushing? Can it be from shame at the bad company you have brought him into, or from carnal desire? (The crowd mutters disapprovingly.) You are muttering! Is that because you are ashamed of my words or of yourselves? Why don't you cast the stones? Oh, you haven't any. Well, open that door. Summon the people outside and hand this woman over to them. If you don't think fifty men have power enough to tear her to pieces, you maybe sure that five hundred women will avail. Well? You are silent?--Rise up, woman! You have been acquitted. Go and sin no more. But don't show yourself to the priests, for they will deliver you up to the women!
MARTEN
(who has tried to interrupt Olof several
times, but has been held back by the
German, now displays a document).
This man, to whom you have been listening, is a heretic, as you may have heard from his talk, and he has also been t excommunicated. Here you can see! Read for yourselves! (He takes one of the candles from the nearest table and throws it on the floor.) "As this candle, that we here cast out, is extinguished, so shall be extinguished all his happiness and weal and whatsoever good may come to him from God!"
CROWD
(draws back, making the sign of the cross,
so that Olof is left alone with the Harlot
in the middle of the room).
Anathema!
MARTEN
(to the Harlot).
There you can hear how much Master Olof's absolution avails you.
OLOF
(who has been taken aback for a moment).
Do you still dare to trust my word, woman? Are you not afraid of me? Can you not hear the lightnings of the ban hissing around our heads? Why don't you join these twenty righteous ones who still remain within the refuge of Holy Church?--Answer me! Do you think the Lord has cast me out as these have done?
HARLOT.
No!
OLOF
(seizing the letter of excommunication).
Well, then! The great bishop of the small city of Linkoeping has sold my soul to Satan for the term of my life--for farther than that his power does not reach--and he has done so because I bade the people seek their Lord when they had been prohibited from doing so! Here is the contract! As the Church, by that contract, has bound me to hell, so I set myself free from it
(he tears the letter to pieces)
--and from the ban of the Church, too! So help me God! Amen!
CROWD
(howling).
Anathema!
MARTEN.
Down with him! At him! He is banned!
OLOF
(placing himself in front of the Harlot).
Do you hear the devils yelling for their victim?--Dare not to touch me!
MARTEN.
At him! Down with him!
[Just as one of the mercenaries raises his weapon to strike, the iron door in the rear is flung open, and the Anabaptists, headed by Knipperdollink, come rushing in, uttering wild cries. They carry broken crucifixes and images of saints as well as torn vestments. All those in the room before are forced toward the street door.]
KNIPPERDOLLINK
(as he pushes back the iron door and enters ahead of the rest).
Come here, folk--here's another sanctum!--What's this? A drinkshop in the temple!--Look ye! Look ye--the abomination has gone so far that the tabernacle itself is being polluted. But I will cleanse it with fire. Set fire to the church and prepare a stake for the saints!
OLOF
(stepping forward).
Consider what you propose to do!
KNIPPERDOLLINK.
Are you afraid that the beer kegs will burst from the heat, you Belial? Are you the popish tapster who thought it not robbery to build vice a chapel in the very wall of the church?
OLOF.
I am the Secretary of the Court-House, and I command you in the name of the King to keep order!
KNIPPERDOLLINK.
So you are the man whom the King has sent here to make war on our sacred cause? Onward, onward, ye men of God, and seize him first of all! Afterwards we'll cleanse the temple of the Lord from idolatry.
MARTEN.
Go at him, good folk, for he's a heretic and under the ban!
KNIPPERDOLLINK.
A heretic? You are not one of the papists, then?
OLOF.
Since they have banned me, I can no longer be of the Church.
KNIPPERDOLLINK.
Then you are on our side? (Olof remains silent.) Answer: are you with us or against us?
MARTEN.
He's Olof Pedersson, the man that was sent here by the King.
KNIPPERDOLLINK.
Are you Olof Pedersson?
OLOF.
I am.
KNIPPERDOLLINK.
But a heretic?
OLOF.
I pride myself on being one.
KNIPPERDOLLINK.
And yet take service with the King?
OLOF.
Yes!
(The Anabaptists raise an outcry and surround Olof.)
[Enter Gert quickly through 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?
GERT.
Which king?
OLOF.
King Gustaf!
GERT.
Oh, that one!--Well, good-bye, then, Olof.--So you're going to preach to-morrow?--Why doesn't that woman go her way?--Good-bye!
[Exit.]
OLOF.
Is that man running errands for God or for Satan?
HARLOT
(approaches Olof and kneels before him).
Let me thank you!
OLOF.
Give thanks for God alone for having saved your soul, and don't think that all your sins have been expiated to-day. Try to find strength to live a life that will always be cursed. God has forgiven you--your fellow-men will never do so! (He takes her by the hand and leads her to the street door.)
[Enter Marten through the doorway in the rear, followed by Olof's Mother and Christine, the daughter of Gert.]
MARTEN.
We're in the wrong place, I fear.
MOTHER
(outraged at seeing Olof and the Harlot together).
Olof, Olof!
CHRISTINE.
Who is that woman? She looks so unhappy.
MARTEN.
Let us get away from this den of iniquity!
OLOF
(turning and running toward the iron door, which is closed in his face by Marten).
Mother! Mother!
[He runs out through the other door.]
(The stage is darkened.) _
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