Part 22 (1/2)

Gert. Yes, I happened to get mixed up with them, but here I have a certificate proving that I belong to the asylum, the third department for incurables, cell number seven.

Gustaf (to Olof). Send word to the guard.

Gert. That isn't necessary, for I want nothing but justice, and it's something the guard doesn't handle.

Gustaf (looking hard at Gert). I suppose you have had a share in those outrages in the city churches?

Gert. Of course, I have! No sane person could behave so madly. We wanted only to make a few minor alterations in the style. They seemed too low in the ceiling.

Gustaf. What do you really want?

Gert. Oh, we want a great deal, although we haven't got through with one-half of it yet. Yes, we want so many things and we want them so quickly, that our reason cannot keep pace with them, and that's why it has been lagging behind a little. Yes, we wish among other things to change the furnis.h.i.+ngs a little in the churches, and to remove the windows because the air seems so musty. Yes, and there is a lot more we want, but that will have to wait for a while.

Gustaf (to Olof). That's a perilous disease--for anything else it cannot be.

Olof. Who knows?

Gustaf. Now I am tired. You'll have a fortnight in which to get ready.

Your hand that you will help me!

Olof. I will do my part.

Gustaf. Give orders to have Rink and Knipperdollink sent to Malmo.

Olof. And then?

Gustaf. They'll have a chance to escape. That fool over there you can send back to the asylum. Farewell! [Exit.]

Gert (shaking his clenched fist after Gustaf). Well, are we going?

Olof. Where?

Gert. Home. (Olof remains silent.) You don't wish to send your father-in-law to the madhouse, do you, Olof?

Olof. You ask me what I wish--How about my duty?

Gert. Is there no duty above the royal command?

Olof. Are you beginning again?

Gert. What will Christine say if you put her father among madmen?

Olof. Tempt me not!

Gert. Do you see how difficult it is to serve the King? (Olof does not answer.) I won't make you unhappy, my poor boy. Here's balm for your conscience. (He takes out a doc.u.ment.)

Olof. What is it?

Gert. A certificate of health. You see, it is necessary to be a madman among sane people, and sane among mad men.