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.