German. My dear folks, I can testify that the reverend brother is drunk, and that's why he is lying!
Crowd (with signs of disgust). A drunken priest!
German. Well, booze is absolution for lying. Isn't that so, Father Mårten?
Tavern-keeper. Really, I can't let my house be the meeting-place for any kind of disturbance. If this goes on, I'll lose my customers and get hauled before the Chapter. Won't you please take away that miserable creature who's causing all this noise?
Mårten. Take her out, or I'll have you all banned! Don't you know that we are now within the consecrated walls of the church, although the Chapter allows this outhouse to be used for the material refreshment of travellers?
German. Surely this room is holy, good folk, and surely the Lord doth dwell here.
(The crowd begins to drag the Harlot toward the street door.)
Harlot. Jesus Christ, help me!
[Enter Olof. He appears in the door, and pushes through the crowd until he reaches the Harlot, whose hand he takes so that he can pull her away from the drunken men about her.]
Olof. Answer me—who is this woman?