[Exeunt Mårten and the members of the procession.]
Gert. Enough, Olof! (To all the conspirators except Olof and Lars.) Leave us, please!
[Exeunt the conspirators, exchanging whispers.]
Gert (to Olof and Lars). It's too late to back down now!
Olof. What do you want, Gert—speak!
Gert (showing them a bound volume). Before you two, servants of God, a people steps forth to make its confession. Do you acknowledge your oath?
Olof and Lars. We have sworn!
Gert. This book is the result of my silent labors. On every page you will find a cry of distress, a sigh from thousands who have been blind enough to think it God's will that they should suffer the tyranny of one man—who have thought it their duty not even to hope for liberation. (Olof takes the volume and begins to read.) You shall hear complaints all the way from the primeval forests of Norrland down to the Sound. Out of the wreckage from the churches the King is building new castles for the nobility and new prisons for the people. You shall read how the King is bartering away law and justice by letting murderers escape their punishment if they seek refuge at the salt-works. You shall read how he is taxing vice by letting harlots pay for the right to ply their traffic. Yea, the very fishes of the rivers, the water of the sea itself, have been usurped by him. But the end is in sight. The eyes of the people have been opened. There is seething and fermenting everywhere. Soon the tyranny will be crushed, and the people shall be free!
Olof. Who wrote the songs in this book?
Gert. The people! These are songs of the people—so they sing who feel the yoke pressing. I have visited city and country, asking them: "Are you happy?" These are the answers! I have held assizes. Here are the verdicts entered. Do you believe that a million wills may conquer one? Do you believe that God has bestowed this land with all its human souls and all its property upon a single man, for him to deal with as it suits his pleasure? Or do you not rather believe that he should do the will of all?—You do not answer? You are awed, I see, by the thought that it may come to an end! Listen to my confession! Tomorrow the oppressor dies, and you shall all be free!