Lars. They will at least get fresh air.

Olof. But to rob a whole nation of its faith--they will despair.

Lars. Yes, they will despair.

Olof. But they will decry me, and revile me, and drag me before
the elders.

Lars. Are you afraid?

Olof. No--but the offence--

Lars. You were born to give offence, Olof; you were born to
smite. The Lord will heal.

Olof. I can feel the pull of the current; I am still clinging to
the sluice-gate, but if I let go, I shall be swept away.

Lars. Let go! There are more than enough who hold back.

Olof. Reach out your hand to me, Lars, if I get too far into the
whirlpool.

Lars. That is not in my power, and into the whirlpool you must
go, even if it be to perish.

Olof. What storms you have raised in my soul! A moment ago I sat
here and played in the shadow of the trees, and it was Whitsun