His Mother.
[Uneasily.]
Twere best I took my homeward way
To the deep valley, to the gloom;
Such rank and poisonous fancies bloom
In this insufferable ray;
I'm almost fainting at the fume.
Brand.
Seek you the shadow; I abide.
And if you long for light and sky,
And fain would see me ere you die,
Call me, and I am by your side.
His Mother.
Yes, with a sermon on my doom!
Brand.
No, tender both as priest and child
I'll shield you from the wind of dread,
And singing low beside your bed
Lull to repose your anguish wild.
His Mother.
And that with lifted hand you swear?
Brand.
When you repent I will be there.
[Approaching her.]
But I too make conditions. Hear.
Whatever in this world is dear
Willingly you must from you rend,
And naked to the grave descend.
His Mother.
[Wildly repulsing him.]
Bid fire be sever'd from its heat,
