Christine. I am--I thought that I could keep it to myself, but it
has grown too much for me.

Olof. Speak--I beg you!

Christine. But you mustn't call me silly! A crowd of people
pursued me all the way to our door and called after me that
horrible word which I don't understand. People do not laugh at an
unfortunate woman--

Olof. Yes, dear, that's just what they do.

Christine. I didn't understand their words, but their actions
were plain enough to make me wicked!

Olof. And yet you were so kind to me! Forgive me if I have been
hard to you!--It is a name given by brute force to its own
victims. Sooner or later, you'll learn more about it, but never
dare to defend an "unfortunate woman"--for then they will throw
mud at you! (A messenger enters and hands him a letter.) At last!
(After a glance at the letter.) You read it to me, Christine! It
is from your lips I want to hear the glad tidings.

Christine (reading). "Young man, you have conquered! I, your
enemy, desire to be the first to tell you so, and I address
myself to you without any sense of humiliation because, in
speaking for the new faith, you have wielded no weapons but those
of the spirit. Whether you be right, I cannot tell, but I think
you have deserved a piece of advice from an older man: stop here,
for your enemies are gone! Do not wage war on creatures made of