Christine. Well, don't they offer prayers in the churches for those who have hopes?
Harlot. Not for such as we!
Christine. Such as we?
Harlot. They pray for the others and curse us.
Christine. What do you mean by "the others"? I don't understand you at all.
Harlot. Do you know the wife of Master Olof?
Christine. Why, that is I!
Harlot. You? Oh, why didn't I guess at once? Can you forgive me a moment's doubt? How could vice look like you and him? Alas! You must leave me. You are a child, still ignorant of wickedness. You must not be talking to me longer. God bless you! Good-bye! (She starts to leave.)
Christine. Don't leave me! Whoever you be, for God's sake, stay! They have broken into our house, and my husband is not to be found. Take me away from here—home to yourself—anywhere. You must be a good woman—you cannot be wicked—
Harlot (interrupting her). If I tell you that the brutality of the crowd wouldn't hurt you half so much as my company, then perhaps you will forgive me for leaving—