Man from Småland. Well, he'll get what he deserves! A steer doesn't lose his horns when you make an ox of him. Many thanks for your company. Now I've got to go.
German. Oh, no! Just one more noggin—and then we can talk a little more.
Man from Småland. No, thanks, though I'm sure it's good of you, but that's all I dare take, for otherwise I fear this will end badly. I've wife and children at home, you see, and now I'm going home—to tell them we're ruined—no—I don't dare to—I'm much obliged, Mr. German—let's drink some more.
German. That's right! (They drink.)
Man from Småland (emptying his cup and jumping up). Oh, damn the bitter stuff! [Exit, staggering.]
German (to the Dane). O Lord—when that fellow wakes up!
(The Dane nods assent. The noise has been steadily increasing. The fiddler is playing. Then the organ begins to play in the church.)
Windrank. It's strange, I think, that the King lets them have a drinkshop in the church wall.
German. Does it hurt your conscience, skipper? The King doesn't know it, you see.
Windrank. But they don't go together, the organ music and the singing in here. I've always been a God-fearing man, ever since I was at home.