Sommar. It is not wise to raise vipers, Your Grace. Our
canonicus here has strong leanings toward heresy, and to-day he
has dared to defy our orders.

Brask. Is that so?

Sommar. On fully legal grounds we have proclaimed an interdict,
and this man has ventured to say mass--worse than that, he has
said a Lutheran mass, and thus stirred up the people.

Brask. Take care, young man! Don't you know that the ban will
fall on anybody who proclaims Luther?

Olof. I know it, but I fear no other god than God.

Brask. Consider your words. I mean well by you, and you repel me.

Olof. You want to purchase my ability for the doctoring of your
sick cause, and I am shameless enough not to sell myself.

Brask. By Saint George, I think you are out of your senses!

0lof. If so, don't give me the same treatment as Gert the
Printer. You put him in a madhouse, and it made him too wise, I fear.

Brask (to Bishop Sommar). Do you know Gert?

Sommar. No, Your Grace.