Gert. No, the knife is in the flesh now. Cut away, and the body
may be saved.

Olof. I'll denounce you as a traitor to your country.

Gert. You had better not, seeing that to-day you have offended
the Church beyond repair. Besides--

Olof. Speak out, Gert. Just now you look like Satan himself!

Gert. You shall have my secret: deal with it to suit yourself.
The King leaves for Malmo to-day, and the day after to-morrow,
perchance, Stockholm may be in open revolt.

Olof. What are you talking about?

Gert. Do you know Rink and Knipperdollink?

Olof (alarmed). The Anabaptists!

Gert. Yes. What's so startling in that? They are nothing but a
couple of lubberly tradesmen. A furrier and a grocer, who deny
the use of baptizing unconscious children, and who are simple-minded
enough to oppose the forcing of irrational creatures into
deliberate perjury.

Olof. That is not all.

Gert. What is it, then?