O Agnes, Agnes, death has spun
His web about our little son!
Agnes.
Foreboding trembled in my heart,—
And yet I only knew a part.
Brand.
[To the Doctor.]
But flight will save him? That is sure? The Doctor. The life a father day and night Watches, all perils can endure. Be all to him! and healthy, bright, You soon shall see him, be secure! Brand. Thanks, thanks!
[To Agnes.]
In down enclose him well; Chill sweeps the night-wind from the fell.
[Agnes goes in.
The Doctor silently watches Brand, who gazes fixedly through the door; then goes to him, and lays his hand on his shoulder.
The Doctor.
So tender to his own distress.
And to the world so merciless!
For them avails not <g>more</g> nor <g>less</g>!
Only Law's absolute <g>Nought</g> or <g>All</g>,
But now—no sooner sees he fall
The dooming lot,—his valour's flown;
—The sacrificial lamb's his own!
