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_ ACT III - SCENE I
(A Hall in the Royal Palace at Stockholm. In the background is a gallery which can be partitioned off by curtains. In elderly servant of the palace is pacing back and forth in the gallery.)
[Enter Olof.]
OLOF.
Is the King receiving to-day?
SERVANT. Yes.
OLOF.
Can you tell me why I have been kept waiting here in vain four days at a stretch?
SERVANT.
No, heavens, I know nothing at all.
OLOF.
It seems strange that I have not been admitted.
SERVANT.
What is it about?
OLOF.
That's none of your concern!
SERVANT.
Of course not! I understand that, but I thought I might be able to give some information, perhaps.
OLOF.
Have you charge of the King's audiences?
SERVANT.
Oh, heavens, no! But you see, when a man hears as much as I do, he knows a little of everything.
(Pause.)
OLOF.
Do you think I shall have to wait long?
(The servant pretends not to hear.)
Do you know if the King is coming soon?
SERVANT
(with his back turned to Olof).
What?
OLOF.
Do you know to whom you are talking?
SERVANT.
No, I don't.
OLOF.
I am the King's Secretary.
SERVANT.
Oh, mercy, are you Master Olof? I knew your father, Peter the Smith, for I am also from Oerebro.
OLOF.
Well, can't you be civil in spite of that?
SERVANT.
Well, well! That's what happens when one gets on a little in this world--then one's humble parents are forgotten.
OLOF.
It is possible that my father actually honored you with his acquaintance, but I doubt that he put you in a parent's place to me when he died.
SERVANT. Well, well! I declare! It must be hard on Dame Christine! [Exit to the left.]
[Olof is left alone for a while. Then Lars Siggesson, the Lord High Constable, enters from the right.]
CONSTABLE
(throwing his cloak to Olof without looking at him).
Will the King be here soon?
OLOF
(catching the cloak and throwing it on the floor).
I do not know!
CONSTABLE.
Bring me a chair.
OLOF.
That's not my office.
CONSTABLE.
I am not familiar with the instructions of the doorkeeper.
OLOF.
I am no doorkeeper!
CONSTABLE.
I don't care what you are, and I don't carry with me a list of the menials, but you will have to be civil! (Olof remains silent.) Well, what about it? I think the Devil has got into you!
OLOF.
Pardon me, but it is no part of my duty as secretary to wait on anybody.
CONSTABLE.
What? Oh, Master Olof! Why, first you sit at the door playing lackey, and then you drop the mask and step forth as the Lord Himself! And I took you to be a proud man. (He picks up his cloak and places it on a bench.)
OLOF.
My Lord Constable!
CONSTABLE.
But, no, you are only a vain upstart! Please step forward and be seated, Mr. Secretary.
[He points Olof to a seat and goes out into one of the side-rooms.]
[Olof sits down. A young Courtier enters through the gallery and salutes Olof.]
COURTIER.
Good morning, Secretary! Is nobody here yet? Well, how is everything in Stockholm? I have just arrived from Malmoe.
OLOF.
Oh, everything is going wrong here.
COURTIER.
So I have heard. The mob has been muttering as usual whenever the King's back is turned. And then there are those fool priests!--I beg your pardon, Secretary, but, of course, you are a freethinker?
OLOF.
I don't quite understand.
COURTIER.
Don't mind me, please. You see, I have been educated in Paris. Francis the First--O Saint-Sauveur!--that's a man who has extreme views. Do you know what he told me at a bal masque during the last carnival? (Olof remains silent.) "Monsieur," he said, "la religion est morte, est morte," he said. Which didn't keep him from attending mass.
OLOF.
Is that so?
COURTIER.
Do you know what he replied when I asked him why he did so?--"Poetry! Poetry!" he said. Oh, he is divine!
OLOF.
What did you answer?
COURTIER.
"Your Majesty," I said--in French, of course--"fortunate the land that has a king who can look so far beyond the narrow horizon of his own time that he perceives what the spirit of the age demands, without trying to urge the masses to embrace that higher view of life for which they will not be ready for many centuries to come!" Wasn't that pretty clever?
OLOF.
Oh, yes, but I think it must have lost a great deal in being translated. Things of that kind should be spoken in French.
COURTIER
(preoccupied).
You are quite right.--Tell me--your _fortune_ ought to be assured--you are so far in advance of your time?
OLOF.
I fear I shall not get very far. My education was neglected, unfortunately--I studied in Germany, as you may know--and the Germans are not beyond religion yet.
COURTIER.
Indeed, indeed! Can you tell me why they are making such a hubbub about that Reformation down there in Germany? Luther is a man of enlightenment--I know it--I believe it--but why shouldn't he keep it to himself, or at least not waste any sparks of light on the brutish herd to which they can be nothing but so many pearls thrown to the swine. If you let your eye survey the time we are living in--if you make some effort to follow the great currents of thought--then you will easily perceive the cause of that disturbed equilibrium which is now making itself felt in all the great civilized countries; I am not talking of Sweden, of course, which is not a civilized country. Can you name the centre of gravity--that centre which cannot be disturbed without everything going to pieces--the instability of which tends to upset everything? The name of it is--the nobility. The nobility is the thinking principle. The feudal system is falling--and that means the world. Erudition is in decay. Civilization is dying. Yes, indeed--You don't believe that? But if you have any historical outlook at all, you can see that it is so. The nobility started the Crusades. The nobility has done this and that and everything. Why is Germany being torn to pieces? Because the peasantry has risen against the nobility, thus cutting off its own head. Why is France safe--la France? Because France is one with the nobility, and the nobility is one with France--because those two ideas are identical, inseparable. And why, I ask again, is Sweden at present shaken to its nethermost foundations? Because the nobility has been crushed. Christian the Second was a man of genius. He knew how to conquer a country. He didn't cut off a leg or an arm--nay, he cut off the head. Well, then! Sweden must be saved, and the King knows how. The nobility is to be restored, and the Church is to be crushed. What do you say to that?
OLOF
(rising).
Nothing!
(Pause.)
You are a freethinker?
COURTIER.
Of course!
OLOF.
You don't believe, then, that Balaam's ass could talk?
COURTIER.
Gracious, no!
OLOF.
But I do.
COURTIER.
Really?
[Enter Lars Andersson.]
LARS ANDERSON.
The peace of the Lord be with you, Olof.
OLOF
(embracing him).
Well met, Lars!
COURTIER.
Populace!
[Exit.]
LARS.
Well, how do you like living here?
OLOF.
It's so close!
LARS.
Somewhat!
OLOF.
And no room overhead.
LARS.
That's why they find it so hard to keep their backs straight.
OLOF.
In ten minutes I have become so much of a courtier that I know how to be silent when an ass is talking.
LARS.
There is no harm in that.
OLOF.
What does the King think?
LARS.
He doesn't tell.
(A number of people have begun to gather in the hall.)
OLOF.
How does he look?
LARS.
Like an interrogation point followed by several exclamation marks.
[Enter Bishop Brask. All give way before him. The Lord High Constable, who has returned in the meantime, goes to meet him and exchanges greetings with him. Olof salutes the Bishop, who looks surprised.]
BRASK
(to the Constable).
Is this a place for the clerks?
CONSTABLE.
It ought not to be, but our King is so very gracious.
BRASK.
Condescending, you mean?
CONSTABLE. Exactly.
BRASK.
The audience is well attended to-day.
CONSTABLE.
Mostly formal calls occasioned by the happy return of His Highness.
BRASK.
It is a pleasure, my Lord Constable, to offer His Highness our sincere felicitations on the happy solution of this question.
CONSTABLE.
It is indeed courteous in Your Grace to incur the trouble of such a long journey--especially at Your Grace's advanced age.
BRASK.
Unfortunately, my health is not always to be depended upon.
CONSTABLE.
Is Your Grace not enjoying good health? It is hard to feel one's strength failing, particularly for one who occupies such an exalted and responsible position.
BRASK.
You look very well, my Lord Constable.
CONSTABLE.
Yes, thank God!
(Pause.)
BRASK
(seating himself).
Don't you think there is a draught here, my Lord?
CONSTABLE.
It seems so. Perhaps we might order the doors to be closed?
BRASK.
No, thank you, that will not be necessary. (Pause.)
CONSTABLE.
The King is long in coming.
BRASK.
Yes.
CONSTABLE.
Perhaps you won't find it worth your while to wait for him.
BRASK.
Perhaps not!
CONSTABLE.
With your permission, I will send word to Your Grace's servants.
BRASK.
As I have waited so long, I think I shall wait a little longer.
(Pause.)
SERVANT.
His Highness!
[Enter Gustaf.]
GUSTAF.
I bid you welcome, gentlemen. (He takes a seat at a table.) If you will please step out into the antechamber, I will receive you one at a time. (All retire except Bishop Brask.) Our Lord Constable will stay.
BRASK.
Your Highness!
GUSTAF
(raising his voice).
Sir Lars!
(Brask goes out, the Constable remaining; pause.)
Speak! What am I to do?
CONSTABLE.
Your Highness, the State has lost its prop, and therefore it is toppling over; the State has an enemy that has grown too strong for it. Restore the prop, which is the nobility, and crush the enemy, which is the Church!
GUSTAF. I dare not!
CONSTABLE.
You must, Your Highness!
GUSTAF.
What's that?
CONSTABLE.
First of all: Brask is in correspondence with the Pope to have the inquisition established here. Luebeck is insisting on her shameless demands and threatens war. The treasury is empty. There is rebellion in every nook and corner of the country--
GUSTAF.
That's enough! But I have the people with me.
CONSTABLE.
I beg your pardon--you have not. There are the Dalecarlians, for instance--a spoiled lot, always disputing with those of Luebeck about the honor of having bestowed a king on Sweden. They are ready to rebel on the slightest occasion, and they are coming forward with demands like these: "There shall be no outlandish customs used, with slittered and motley colored clothes, such as have of late been brought into the King's court."
GUSTAF.
'Sdeath!
CONSTABLE.
"Whosoever eats meat on Fridays or Saturdays shall be burned at the stake or otherwise made away with." And furthermore, "There shall be no new faith or Lutheran teachings foisted upon us." What a treacherous, impudent people!
GUSTAF.
And yet there was a time when they showed themselves to be men.
CONSTABLE.
Well, what wonder if they carried water when their house was afire? How many times have they broken troth and faith? But they have so often heard themselves lauded that they have come to give the name of "old Swedish honesty" to their own brute arrogance.
GUSTAF.
You belong to the nobility!
CONSTABLE.
Yes, and it is my conviction that the peasant has played out his part--the part of a crude force needed to drive away the enemy by sheer strength of arm. Crush the Church, Your Highness, for it is keeping the people in fetters. Seize the gold of the Church and pay the country's debt--and give back to the reduced nobility what the Church has obtained from it by dupery.
GUSTAF.
Call in Brask.
CONSTABLE.
Your Highness!
GUSTAF.
Call Bishop Brask! [Exit the Constable.]
[Enter Bishop Brask.]
GUSTAF.
Speak, Your Grace!
BRASK.
I wish to offer our congratulations on--
GUSTAF.
I thank Your Grace! And what more?
BRASK.
There have been complaints from several districts, I am sorry to say, about unpaid loans of silver exacted from the churches by Your Highness.
GUSTAF.
Which you now are trying to recover. Are all the chalices actually needed for communion?
BRASK.
They are.
GUSTAF.
Let them use pewter mugs, then.
BRASK.
Your Highness!
GUSTAF.
Anything more?
BRASK.
What is worse than anything else--all this heresy!
GUSTAF.
No concern of mine! I am not the Pope.
BRASK.
I have to warn Your Highness that the Church must look out for her own rights, even if doing so should bring her into conflict--
GUSTAF. With whom?
BRASK. With the State.
GUSTAF.
Your Church can go to the devil! There, I have said it!
BRASK.
I knew it.
GUSTAF.
And you were only waiting for me to say so?
BRASK.
Exactly.
GUSTAF.
Take care! You travel with a following of two hundred men, and you eat from silver, when the people are living on bark.
BRASK.
Your Highness takes too narrow a view of the matter.
GUSTAF.
Have you heard of Luther? You are a well-informed man. What kind of a phenomenon is he? What have you to say of the movements that are now spreading throughout Europe?
BRASK.
Progress backward! Luther is merely destined to serve as a purging fire for what is ancient, descended from untold ages and well tried, so that it may be cleansed and by the struggle urged on to greater victories.
GUSTAF.
I care nothing for your learned arguments.
BRASK.
But Your Highness is extending protection to criminals and interfering with the privileges of the Church; for the Church has been grievously wronged by Master Olof.
GUSTAF.
Well, put him under the ban.
BRASK.
It has been done, and yet he remains in the service of Your Highness.
GUSTAF.
What more do you want done to him? Tell me? (Pause.)
BRASK.
Furthermore, he has gone so far as to marry secretly in violation of the Canon Law.
GUSTAF.
Is that so? That's quick action.
BRASK.
It doesn't concern Your Highness? Good and well! But if he stirs up the people?
GUSTAF.
Then I'll step in. Anything more?
BRASK
(after a pause).
I ask you for heaven's sake not to plunge the country into disaster again. It is not yet ripe for a new faith. We are but reeds in the wind and can be bent--but when it comes to the faith, or the Church--never!
GUSTAF
(holding out his hand to the Bishop).
Maybe you are right! But let us be enemies rather than false friends, Bishop Hans!
BRASK.
Be it so! But do not do what you will regret. Every stone you tear out of the Church will be thrown at you by the people.
GUSTAF.
Don't force me to extremes, Your Grace, for then we shall have the same horrible spectacle here as in Germany. For the last time: are you willing to make concessions if the welfare of the country is at stake?
BRASK.
The Church--
GUSTAF.
The Church comes first--very well! Good-bye!
[Exit Brask. Reenter the Constable.]
GUSTAF.
The Bishop has confirmed your statement, and that was what I wanted him to do. Now we shall need stone-masons who know how to tear down. The walls will be left, the cross may stay on the roof and the bell in the tower, but I will clear out the vaults. One must begin at the bottom!
CONSTABLE.
The people will think you are taking away their faith. They will have to be educated.
GUSTAF.
We'll send Master Olof to preach to them.
CONSTABLE.
Master Olof is a dangerous man.
GUSTAF.
But needed just now.
CONSTABLE.
He has carried on like the Anabaptists instead of opposing them.
GUSTAF.
I know. We'll get to that later on. Send him in.
CONSTABLE.
Lars the Chancellor would be a better man.
GUSTAF.
Bring them both in.
CONSTABLE.
Or Olof's brother, Lars Pedersson.
GUSTAF.
No good yet. He is too soft for fighting, but his time will come, too.
[Exit Constable.]
[The Constable returns with Master Olof and Lars Andersson.]
GUSTAF
(to the Chancellor).
Do you want to help me, Lars?
LARS.
You are thinking of the Church?
GUSTAF.
Yes, it will have to be torn down.
LARS.
I am not the man for that. Your Majesty had better ask Master Olof.
GUSTAF.
You won't, then?
LARS.
I can't! But I have a weapon for you. (He hands the new translation of the Bible to the King.)
GUSTAF.
Holy Writ! A good weapon, indeed! Will you wield it, Olof?
OLOF.
With the help of God--yes!
GUSTAF
(to Olof, after having signalled to Lars to leave).
Have you calmed down yet, Olof?
(Olof does not answer).
I gave you four days to think it over. How have you been carrying out your task?
OLOF
(impetuously).
I have spoken to the people--
GUSTAF.
Still in a fever! And you mean to defend those madmen named Anabaptists?
OLOF
(bravely).
I do!
GUSTAF.
Steady!--You have married in a hurry?
OLOF.
I have.
GUSTAF.
You are under the ban?
OLOF.
I am.
GUSTAF.
And still as brave as ever! If you were sent to the gallows as a rebel with the rest, what would you say then?
OLOF.
I should regret not being permitted to finish my task, but I should thank the Lord for having been allowed to do what I have done.
GUSTAF.
That's good! Would you dare to go up to that old owl's-nest Upsala and tell its learned men that the Pope is not God and that he has nothing to do with Sweden?
OLOF.
Only that?
GUSTAF.
Will you tell them that the only word of God is the Bible?
OLOF.
Must that be all?
GUSTAF.
You are not to mention the name of Luther!
OLOF
(after some hesitation).
Then I will not go.
GUSTAF.
Would you rather go to your death?
OLOF.
No, but I know that my sovereign needs me.
GUSTAF.
It isn't noble to take advantage of my misfortune, OLOF. Well, say anything; you please, but you will have to pardon me if I take back a part of it afterwards.
OLOF.
Truth isn't sold by the yard.
GUSTAF.
'Sdeath!
(Changing tone.)
Well, suit yourself!
OLOF
(kneeling).
Then I may say all that is in my mind?
GUSTAF.
You may.
OLOF.
Then, if I can only throw a single spark of doubt into the soul of this sleeping people, my life will not have been wasted.--It is to be a reformation, then?
GUSTAF
(after a pause).
Yes.
(Pause.)
OLOF
(timidly).
And what is to become of the Anabaptists?
GUSTAF.
Need you ask? They must die.
OLOF.
Will Your Highness permit me one more question?
GUSTAF.
Tell me: what do those madmen want?
OLOF.
The sad thing is that they do not know it themselves, and if I were to tell you--
GUSTAF.
Speak out!
[Gert enters quickly, pretending to be insane.]
GUSTAF.
Who are you to dare intrude here?
GERT.
I want most humbly to beseech Your Highness to attest the correctness of this document.
GUSTAF.
Wait till you are called.
GERT.
Of course, I should like to, but the guards won't wait for me. I escaped from prison, you see, because my place wasn't there.
GUSTAF.
Are you one of those Anabaptists?
GERT.
Yes, I happened to get mixed up with them, but here I have a certificate proving that I belong to the asylum, the third department for incurables, cell number seven.
GUSTAF
(to Olof).
Send word to the guard.
GERT.
That isn't necessary, for I want nothing but justice, and it's something the guard doesn't handle.
GUSTAF
(looking hard at Gert).
I suppose you have had a share in those outrages in the city churches?
GERT.
Of course, I have! No sane person could behave so madly. We wanted only to make a few minor alterations in the style. They seemed too low in the ceiling.
GUSTAF. What do you really want?
GERT.
Oh, we want a great deal, although we haven't got through with one-half of it yet. Yes, we want so many things and we want them so quickly, that our reason cannot keep pace with them, and that's why it has been lagging behind a little. Yes, we wish among other things to change the furnishings a little in the churches, and to remove the windows because the air seems so musty. Yes, and there is a lot more we want, but that will have to wait for a while.
GUSTAF
(to Olof).
That's a perilous disease--for anything else it cannot be.
OLOF.
Who knows?
GUSTAF.
Now I am tired. You'll have a fortnight in which to get ready. Your hand that you will help me!
OLOF.
I will do my part.
GUSTAF.
Give orders to have Rink and Knipperdollink sent to Malmoe.
OLOF.
And then?
GUSTAF.
They'll have a chance to escape. That fool over there you can send back to the asylum. Farewell!
[Exit.]
GERT
(shaking his clenched fist after Gustaf).
Well, are we going?
OLOF.
Where?
GERT.
Home.
(Olof remains silent.)
You don't wish to send your father-in-law to the madhouse, do you, Olof?
OLOF.
You ask me what I wish--How about my duty?
GERT.
Is there no duty above the royal command?
OLOF.
Are you beginning again?
GERT.
What will Christine say if you put her father among madmen?
OLOF.
Tempt me not!
GERT.
Do you see how difficult it is to serve the King? (Olof does not answer.) I won't make you unhappy, my poor boy. Here's balm for your conscience. (He takes out a document.)
OLOF.
What is it?
GERT.
A certificate of health. You see, it is necessary to be a madman among sane people, and sane among mad men.
OLOF.
How did you get it?
GERT.
Don't you think I deserve it?
OLOF.
I can't tell.
GERT.
True enough: you don't yet dare.
[Enter Servant.]
SERVANT.
Will you please go your way. They 're about to sweep.
GERT.
Perhaps the place has to be aired, too?
SERVANT.
Yes, indeed!
GERT.
Don't forget to open the windows.
SERVANT.
No, you may be sure, and it's needed, too, for we are not accustomed to this kind of company.
GERT.
Look here, old man--I carry a greeting from your father.
SERVANT. Oh, you do?
GERT.
Perhaps you never knew him?
SERVANT.
Why, certainly!
GERT.
Do you know what he said?
SERVANT.
No.
GERT.
Wet the broom, he said, or you'll get the dust all over yourself.
SERVANT.
I don't understand.
GERT.
Well, that's your only excuse.
[Exeunt Gert and Olof.]
SERVANT.
Rabble! _
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