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ACT THIRD.
Three years later. A little garden by the Parsonage. A great precipice above, a stone wall round. The fjord, narrow and pent in, appears in the background. The house-door opens upon the garden. Afternoon.
Brand is standing on the steps outside the house. Agnes is sitting on the step at his feet.
Agnes.
My dearest husband, still your eye
Over the fjord roves anxiously—
Brand.
I wait a summons.
Agnes.
With brows bent!
Brand.
My Mother's summons. This three years
I've waited between hopes and fears
The summons that was never sent.
To-day 'twas told me, past a doubt,
That her life's span is almost out.
Agnes.
[Softly and tenderly.]
Brand, <g>without</g> summons you should go?
