Abbess. Alas, that unbelief has spread so far down among the people!
Mårten. We are celebrating this feast with the permission of the King.
Overseer. Well, I don't mind!
Mårten. And therefore I command you to cease your noise. I'll appeal directly to your workmen, whom you have forced into this shameless undertaking.—I'll ask them if they have any respect whatever left for holy—
Overseer. You had better not, for I am in command here. Furthermore, I can tell you that they are glad enough to have a chance of tearing down these hornets' nests for which they themselves have had to pay—and then, too, they are pretty thankful to earn something during a time of famine. (He goes toward the background.)
Mårten. Let us forget the wickedness and tumult of this world. Let us enter the sacred place and pray for them.
Abbess. Lord, Lord, the cities of Thy sanctuary are laid waste! Zion is laid waste, and Jerusalem is lying desolate!
Windrank. 100.—Nobody can get in here!
The Conspirators (within the chapel). We swear!
Mårten. Who has dared to invade the chapel?