Agnes.
[Comes out on to the steps: pale and terrified she whispers to the Doctor.]
In! Follow me! The Doctor. You raise my fears! What is it, child? Agnes. Into my breast Creeps cold a serpent of affright! The Doctor. What is it? Agnes.
[Pulling him away.]
Come!—Great God of Might.
[They go into the house; Brand does not notice.
Brand.
[To himself.]
Impenitent alive,—and dead!
This is the finger of the Lord!
Now through my means shall be restored
The treasure she has forfeited;
Else tenfold woe upon my head!
[Rises.]
Henceforth as by my sonship bound,
Unflinching, on my native ground
I'll battle, a soldier of the Cross,
For Spirit's gain by Body's loss.
Me with His purging fire the Lord
Hath arm'd, and with His riving Word:
Mine is that Will and that strong Trust
That crumbles mountains into dust!
