The Doctor.
[Followed by Agnes comes hastily out, and cries.]
Order your house and haste away!
Brand.
Were there an earthquake I would stay!
The Doctor.
Then you have doom'd your child to death.
Brand.
[Wildly.]
The child! Alf! Alf! What phantom wraith
Of fear is this! My child!
[Is about to rush into the house.
The Doctor.
[Holding him back.]
Stay, stay.—
Here summer sunshine pierces not,
Here polar ice-blasts rive and rend,—
Here dank and stifling mists descend.
Another winter in this spot
Will shrivel the tender life away.
Go hence, you'll save him! No delay!
To-morrow's best
Brand.
To-night,—to-day!
Now, ere another hour is out!
O yet he shall grow strong and stout;—
No blast from mountain or from shore
Shall chill his baby-bosom more.
Come, Agnes, lift him gently in sleep!
Away along the winding deep!
