Constable. I don't care what you are, and I don't carry with me a list of the menials, but you will have to be civil! (Olof remains silent.) Well, what about it? I think the Devil has got into you!
Olof. Pardon me, but it is no part of my duty as secretary to wait on anybody.
Constable. What? Oh, Master Olof! Why, first you sit at the door playing lackey, and then you drop the mask and step forth as the Lord Himself! And I took you to be a proud man. (He picks up his cloak and places it on a bench.)
Olof. My Lord Constable!
Constable. But, no, you are only a vain upstart! Please step forward and be seated, Mr. Secretary.
[He points Olof to a seat and goes out into one of the side-rooms.]
[Olof sits down. A young Courtier enters through the gallery and salutes Olof.]
Courtier. Good morning, Secretary! Is nobody here yet? Well, how is everything in Stockholm? I have just arrived from Malmö.
Olof. Oh, everything is going wrong here.
Courtier. So I have heard. The mob has been muttering as usual whenever the King's back is turned. And then there are those fool priests!—I beg your pardon, Secretary, but, of course, you are a freethinker?