Master Olof Part 12

Wife. Yes, dear.

s.e.xton. Do you know I am not feeling quite well. This place is so damp and cold.

Wife. Perhaps we had better go home?

s.e.xton. Oh, I think I must sit down and rest on the bench here.

Wife. You shouldn't sit down in all this dampness and cold. Let us get back into the church.

s.e.xton. No, I think it was still colder out there.

Wife. You haven't a fever, have you?

s.e.xton. I almost think I have--I'm so hot.

Wife. Maybe you want something to drink?

s.e.xton. That wouldn't be a bad thing, perhaps.

Wife. I'll see if there is any water around.

s.e.xton. Don't think you'll find any in this kind of a hole.

Wife. But you can't drink beer if you have a fever.

s.e.xton. Do you know, I think the fever has pa.s.sed away. Now I'm feeling cold.

Wife. I'll see if I can't find some small beer.

s.e.xton. It has to be pretty strong, I think, if it's to do any good.

There's a keg of Rostock No. 4 over there--marked A. W., don't you see?

Wife (searching). I can't find it. Here's an Amsterdam No. 3.

s.e.xton. Can't you see--up there on the fourth shelf at the right? (His wife continues to look.) The tap is lying to the left of it, right by the funnel.

Wife. I don't think it's there.

s.e.xton. Just as if I didn't know!

Wife. Yes, here it is.

(The s.e.xton gets up to help his wile and accidentally steps on Windrank.)

Windrank (waking up). Mercy! Jesu Christ! St. Peter and St. Paul!

Ferdinand and Isabella, and St. George and the Dragon, and all the rest!

And ires dire glories in excellence, and deuces tec.u.m vademec.u.m Christ Jesu, and birds of a feather, and now I lay me down to sleep, and a child is born for you to keep--Amen! Amen!--Who's stepping on my windbag?

s.e.xton (frightened). Will you please tell me whether you are a man or a ghost?

Windrank. Man most of the time, but just now I'm a beast.

s.e.xton. What kind of a man, if I may ask?

Windrank. A s.h.i.+pman--which is nor reason why you should blow all the wind out of me.

s.e.xton. But that's my business, you know--I blow the bellows of the big organ.

Windrank. So it was the organ-blower who honored me--

s.e.xton. The s.e.xton, to put it right; but I also keep an old-clothes shop in the church wall.

Windrank. So you're organ-blower, s.e.xton, and shopkeeper--

s.e.xton. In one person--without confusion or transformation--

Windrank. That's a most respectable trinity.

s.e.xton. Such things should not be made fun of!

Windrank. Oh, my, my! I'm drowning! Help!

s.e.xton. Lord, what is it?

Windrank. There's a whole river coming--Ugh!

s.e.xton. Catherine dear! Where are you, my angel? (He runs to look for her.) Jesu, but you must have scared my wife out of her wits. She has run away from the keg--and taken the tap along! Get up--up with you, and let us leave this G.o.dless hole!

Windrank. No, my dear fellow, I'm in my element now, so I think I'll stay.

s.e.xton. Goodness, the clock is striking twelve, and the ghosts will be coming!

Windrank (jumping to his feet). That's a different story! (The s.e.xton guides Windrank toward the door.) Listen, s.e.xton--I'm beginning to have strong doubts about the trinity.

s.e.xton. Well, I declare!

Windrank. It's your trinity I'm thinking of.

s.e.xton. What do you mean, master skipper?

Windrank. I think there must be four of you, after all.

s.e.xton. Four--of whom?

Windrank. How about the tapster? Shouldn't he be counted, too?

s.e.xton. Hush, man! That's only nights.

(Both stumble over the broken image of St. Nicolaus and fall down.)