Einar.
Hold, yourself! Here's sulphur fume,
I see the glints of Satan's horn!
I am Salvation's good wheat-corn,
And you the shovell'd chaff of Doom. [Goes.
Brand.
[Looks a while after him; all at once his
eyes flash and he breaks out.]
<g>That</g>, that is the man I need!
Now all bonds are burst that bound me;
Now my flag shall wave around me
Though none follow where I lead!
The Mayor.
[Comes hastily in.]
Pray, dear Pastor, hasten, do!
The procession-people stand
Waiting only the command—
Brand.
Let them come then!
The Mayor.
Wanting you!
Pray reflect, and hasten in!
All impatient to begin,
See, the whole mass throng and strain;
Like a torrent after storm
On the Manse they surge and swarm,
Shouting for the Priest. Again,
Hark you, for "the Priest" they shout,
Pray make haste! I much misdoubt,
They may scarcely prove humane!
