Olof. The inquisition?
Mother. Yes, that's what they call it.
Olof. Leave me, mother! To-day I must stand up and preach.
Mother. You shall not do it.
Olof. Nothing can prevent me.
Mother. I have prayed to God that He would touch your heart—I'll tell you, but you mustn't speak of it to anybody. I am weak with age, and I couldn't trust my own knees, so I went to see a servant of the Lord and asked him, who is nearer to God, to say some prayers for your soul. He refused because you are under the ban. Oh, it's dreadful! May the Lord forgive me my sin! I bribed the pure conscience of that man with gold—with the Devil's own gold—just to save you!
Olof. Mother, what do I hear? It can't be possible!
Mother (takes Olof by the hand and leads him over to the left, close to the wall). Listen! Do you hear? He is praying for you now in the chapel next to this room.
Olof. So that was the murmur I heard! Who is he?
Mother. You know him—Brother Mårten, of the Dominicans—