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The Dean.
[Jostled in the throng.]
Mayor, Mayor, control them, pray!
The Mayor.
All my words are thrown away!
The Schoolmaster.
[To Brand.]
Speak to them, and cast a gleam
On their spirits' troubled stream!
What you summon'd us to see,
Was it Feast or foolery?
Brand.
O, there stirs a current, then,
In these stagnant waters.—Men,
At the crossway stand ye: choose!
<g>Wholly</g> ye must will to lose
The old vesture of your lust,
Utterly anew be clad,
Ere our Temple from the dust
Rises, as it shall and must!
Officials.
He is raving!
Clergy.
He is mad!
Brand.
Yes, I was so, when I thought
Ye in some sense also wrought
For the God who hateth Lies!
When I dream'd that I could lure
To your hearts His Spirit pure
