Servants bring on a table, with food and
wines; other servants carry in a chest containing gold; others,
again, a table covered with plates, vases, candle-sticks, etc.--all
of gold.
PEHR. [Walks about and looks around.] So this is the rich man's
abode! Well, it looks rather promising. Slaves! Give me my best
holiday-coat--but it must be of gold. [Servants hand him a
gold-cloth coat.] A chair! [They place a gold chair at table.] Now,
Pehr, you shall enjoy life! and that is your right. Haven't you
been up mornings at four o'clock; and rung for early Mass; haven't
you swept the church on Fridays and scoured the stairs on
Saturdays; haven't you eaten bread and herring three hundred and
sixty-five days in the year and rinsed them down with cold water;
haven't you slept on pease-bolt which was so badly threshed that
you could feel the pease in your knee-joints? Oh, yes, you have--
therefore enjoy yourself! [Wants to sit at table.]
BUTLER. [With staff in hand.] Pardon, Your Grace! The table is not
laid.
PEHR. Isn't it?
BUTLER. In a couple of hours the roasts will be ready.
PEHR. I don't want any roasts.
BUTLER. [Intercepts Pehr with staff.] It can never be that one sits
down at an unlaid table!
PEHR. Who forbids me in my own house?
BUTLER. Etiquette, Your Grace, does not under any circumstances
permit it.
PEHR. Etiquette! What kind of torment is that?
BUTLER. Your Grace, listen to an old man's word! He who in Your
Grace's position violates the rules of etiquette is lost.
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