First Scholar. Shall we go on with the play, Master Olof?
Olof. No, children, there will be no more playing.
First Scholar. Are you going to leave us, Master Olof?
First Scholar. Can't you stay over Whitsuntide, so that we can perform our comedy?
Second Scholar. And so that I can play the Angel Gabriel?
First Scholar. Please do as we ask you, Master Olof! You are the only one who has been nice to us and spared us those terrible fasts.
Second Scholar. Oh, don't go away from us, Master Olof!
Olof. You don't know what you are asking, children. The day will come when you shall thank the Lord that I did go away from you.--Oh, no, I hope such a day will never come!--But let us make our leave-taking brief. Good-bye, Nils! Good-bye, Vilhelm!
(He embraces them, and they kiss his hand. In the meantime Lars Andersson has entered and is watching the group closely.)
First Scholar. Won't you ever come back, Master Olof?
Lars (coming forward). Are you ready to start now?
Olof (to the scholars). No, I shall never come back.
Scholars (as they go out). Good-bye, Master Olof, and don't forget us! (Olof stands looking after them.)
Lars. "I have got a harrier to raise the game; now it remains to be seen whether he will come back when I whistle for him!"
Olof. Look at them--playing there among the graves, and picking flowers, and singing the songs of Whitsuntide.
Lars. I thought you had laid your hand so firmly on the plough handle to-day that there could be no question of looking back. (Olof waves his hand to the scholars.) Are you still dreaming?
Olof. It was the last bright morning dream that passed away from me. Pardon me--I am awake now!
[Exeunt toward the right. Then they are nearly out, Olof turns for a last look at the scholars. These have disappeared in the meantime, and in their place appear the two Black Friars, Mårten and Nils. On seeing them, Olof utters a startled cry and puts one hand to his forehead. Lars drags him out.]
(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 (Mårten 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 Småland, a German tradesman, and a Dane are seated together at one of the tables.)
