Constable. Perhaps you won't find it worth your while to wait for him.
Brask. Perhaps not!
Constable. With your permission, I will send word to Your Grace's servants.
Brask. As I have waited so long, I think I shall wait a little longer. (Pause.)
Servant. His Highness!
[Enter Gustaf.]
Gustaf. I bid you welcome, gentlemen. (He takes a seat at a table.) If you will please step out into the antechamber, I will receive you one at a time. (All retire except Bishop Brask.) Our Lord Constable will stay.
Brask. Your Highness!
Gustaf (raising his voice). Sir Lars! (Brask goes out, the Constable remaining; pause.) Speak! What am I to do?
Constable. Your Highness, the State has lost its prop, and therefore it is toppling over; the State has an enemy that has grown too strong for it. Restore the prop, which is the nobility, and crush the enemy, which is the Church!