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Agnes.
[Starts back shuddering.]
Brand, your child,—your child!
Brand.
[Following her.]
Say rather:
Was I priest ere I was father?
Agnes.
[Drawing further back.]
Though in thunder-crash it peal'd,
Unto that my lips are seal'd.
Brand.
[Following.]
You are Mother: it is due
That the last word come from you.
Agnes.
I am Wife: I shall fulfil
All that you have heart to will.
Brand.
[Trying to grasp her arm.]
Take the Cup of Choice from me!
Agnes.
[Retreating behind the tree.]
Mother then I should not be!
Brand.
There a Judgment is let fall!
