Brand.
None knows on whom the doom shall fall;
But God in flaming speech hath said:
"Be faithful through the hour of strife:
Haggling wins not the crown of life!"
Anguish'd repentance scales not heaven,
The martyr's doom you must fulfil.
That you lack'd <g>strength</g> may be forgiven,—
But never that you wanted <g>will</g>.
Agnes.
Yes, it shall be as you have said;
O lift me to those heights you tread;
To your high heaven lead me forth,
My spirit is strong, my flesh is frail;
Oft, anguish-struck, I faint, I fail,—
My clogg'd foot drags upon the earth.
Brand.
See, child; of all men God makes one
Demand: No coward compromise!
Whose work's half done or falsely done,
Condemn'd with God his whole word lies.
We must give sanction to this teaching
By <g>living</g> it and not by preaching.
Agnes
[Throws herself on his neck.]
Lead where you will; I follow you!
Brand.
No precipice is too steep for <g>two</g>.
Enter the Doctor; he has come down the road, and
stops outside the garden fence
