crushed;" and opposite that of Gert: "He who wills more than his
reason can grasp must go mad."

Such was the play with which the young Strindberg returned to the
Swedish capital in the fall of 1872; and let us remember in this
connection, that up to the time in question no dramatic work of
similar importance had ever been produced in Sweden. Its
completion was more epoch-making for Sweden than that of Brand
was for Norway in 1865--since the coming of Ibsen's first really
great play was heralded by earlier works leading up to it, while
Master Olof appeared where nobody had any reason to expect it.
This very fact militated against its success, of course; it was
too unexpected, and also too startlingly original, both in spirit
and in form.

At the time there was only one stage in Sweden where such a work
could be produced--the Royal Theatre at Stockholm. To the
officials of this state--supported institution Strindberg
submitted his work--hopefully, as we know from his own statement.
It was scornfully and ignominiously rejected, the main criticism
being that a serious historical drama in prose was unthinkable. I
shall make no comment whatever on that judgment, having in mind
how several years later Edmund Gosse bewailed the failure of
Ibsen to give a metrical form to his Emperor and Galilean.

Strindberg's next effort concerned publication. In this respect
he was equally unsuccessful, although as a rule it has never been
very difficult in Sweden to find a publisher for any work of
reasonable merit. But the play was not only too original, it was
too dangerously radical for a country where a truly modern form