Gustaf. Would you rather go to your death?
Olof. No, but I know that my sovereign needs me.
Gustaf. It isn't noble to take advantage of my misfortune, Olof. Well, say anything; you please, but you will have to pardon me if I take back a part of it afterwards.
Olof. Truth isn't sold by the yard.
Gustaf. 'Sdeath! (Changing tone.) Well, suit yourself!
Olof (kneeling). Then I may say all that is in my mind?
Gustaf. You may.
Olof. Then, if I can only throw a single spark of doubt into the soul of this sleeping people, my life will not have been wasted.—It is to be a reformation, then?
Gustaf (after a pause). Yes. (Pause.)
Olof (timidly). And what is to become of the Anabaptists?