Gert. You shall have my secret: deal with it to suit yourself. The King leaves for Malmö to-day, and the day after to-morrow, perchance, Stockholm may be in open revolt.
Olof. What are you talking about?
Gert. Do you know Rink and Knipperdollink?
Olof (alarmed). The Anabaptists!
Gert. Yes. What's so startling in that? They are nothing but a couple of lubberly tradesmen. A furrier and a grocer, who deny the use of baptizing unconscious children, and who are simple-minded enough to oppose the forcing of irrational creatures into deliberate perjury.
Olof. That is not all.
Gert. What is it, then?
Olof. They are possessed.
Gert. Of the spirit, yes. It is the storm wind that is crying through them. Beware, if you get into its path!
Olof. This must be stopped. I am going to the King.