JACOB. Because ... because we are not allowed to be friends—because we cannot be friends.
ERIC. Do you think me so vile?
JACOB. No, no!—But I mustn't say anything more. Let us part. I shall always watch your fate with sympathy, for I think you were born to misfortune.
ERIC. What makes you utter what I have thought so many times?—Do you know that I was also born to be in the way? I stand in the way of my father's desire to see Johan on the throne. I stand in the way of his wish to forget the hated German woman. My mind has not the true Swedish quality, and the fault lies in my German blood. Although I am a Vasa, I am Saxony, too, and Lauenburg, and Brunswick. I am so little of a Swede that it gives me pleasure when the free city of Luebeck imposes a penal tax on my country—and keeps it humiliated.
JACOB. [Looking hard at him] Is that the truth, or do you merely talk like that out of politeness?
ERIC. [Puts his hand to his sword, bid regains self-control immediately] Do you notice how much I love you, seeing that I pardon such a question?—Yes, my friend, the first words taught me by my mother were German, and in German I learned to say my evening prayers—that old and beautiful "Heil dir, Maria, Mutter Gottes".... Oh, that time—that time.... [He weeps] Oh, damn it! I am crying, I think!—Come to the Blue Dove to-night, Jacob There you'll find Rhine wine and merry maidens! Jorghen will be there, too. He's a man you should know.
JACOB. [Coldly and shrewdly] I—shall—come.
ERIC. Thank you, friend! [Rising] Really, the place has a look of pawn-shop.
JACOB. [Sharply] That was just what I had in mind before.
ERIC. Well, then we agree to that extent at least. Until to-night, then! Do you know Agda?