Here I will be priest no more.
I revoke my gift;—from me
No man shall receive the key
Of the yet unopen'd door!
[Throws the keys into the river.]
Wilt thou in, thou slave of clay,—
Through the crypt-hole worm thy way;
Lithe thy back is, creep and ply;
From that charnel let thy sigh
Roam the earth with venom'd breath,
Like the flagging gasp of death!
The Mayor.
[Aside with relief.]
Ha, <g>his</g> hope of knighthood's dim!
The Dean.
[Similarly.]
Well; no bishopric for him!
Brand.
Come thou, young man—fresh and free—
Let a life-breeze lighten thee
From this dim vault's clinging dust.
Conquer with me! For thou must
One day waken, one day rise,
Nobly break with compromise;—
Up, and fly the evil days,
Fly the maze of middle ways,
Strike the foeman full and fair,
Battle to the death declare!
The Mayor.
Hold! I'll read the Riot Act!
