Gert. No, one shall die that all may live!
(Olof makes a gesture dismay and repugnance.)
(A Room in the House of Olof's Mother. At the right stands a bedstead with four posts, in which the Mother is lying sick. Christine is asleep on a chair. Lars Pedersson is renewing the oil of the night-lamp and turning the hour glass.)
Lars (speaking to himself). Midnight--Now comes the critical time. (He goes to the bed and listens. At that moment Christine moans in her sleep. He crosses the room and wakens her.) Christine! (She wakes with a start.) Go to bed, child; I will watch.
Christine. No, I will wait. I must speak to her before she dies--I think Olof should be here soon.
Lars. It is for his sake you are watching!
Christine. Yes, and you mustn't say that I have slept. Do you hear?
Christine. No, he would never permit it. He wants to keep me like the carved image of some saint standing on a shelf. The smaller and weaker he can make me, the greater is his pleasure in placing his strength at my feet--
Mother (waking). Lars! (Christine holds back Lars and steps forward.) Who is that?
Mother. Don't make my last moments more bitter. Go away from here!
Lars (coming forward). What do you want, mother?
Mother. Take away that woman! And bring the father confessor--I shall soon die.
Lars. Is not your own son worthy of receiving your last confidences?
Mother. No, he has done nothing to deserve them. Has Mårten come yet?
Mother. O Lord, how terrible Thy punishment! My children standing between myself and Thee! Am I then to be denied the consolations of religion in my last moments? You have taken my life--do you want to destroy my soul, too--the soul of your mother? (She falls into a faint.)
Lars. Do you hear that, Christine! What are we to do? Shall we let her die in the deception practised on her by a miserable wretch like Mårten--and perhaps get her thanks for it--or shall we turn her final prayer into a curse? No, let them come, rather! Or what do you think, Christine?
Lars (goes out for a moment, but returns quickly). Oh, it is horrible! They have fallen asleep over their dice and their tumblers. And by such as those my mother is to be prepared for her death!
Christine. But why not tell her the truth?