Brand.
And do you, as you near your grave,
Know that it was your soul you gave?
His Mother.
It’s clear that I knew that, at least,
Giving my son to be a priest.
When the hour comes, a grateful heir
Of my salvation will take care;
I own the acres and the pence,
And you the deathbed eloquence.
Brand.
With all your cunning you mistook;
You read me wrong in childhood’s book.
And many dwell by bank and brae
Who love their children in that way;—
A child’s a steward, you suppose,
Of the parental cast-off clothes;
A glimpse of the Eternal flits
At times across your wandering wits;
You snatch at it, and dream you spring
Into the essence of the thing
By grafting Riches upon Race;—
That Death with Life you can displace,
That years, if steadily amass’d,
Will yield Eternity at last.
His Mother.
Don’t rummage in your Mother’s mind,
But take what she will leave behind.
Brand.
The debt as well?
His Mother.
The debt? What debt?
There is none.
Brand.
Very good; but yet
Suppose there were,—I should be bound
To settle every claim I found.
The son must satisfy each call
Before the mother’s burial.
Though but four empty walls I took,
I still should own your debit-book.
His Mother.
No law commands it.
Brand.
Not the kind
That ink on parchment ever writ;
But deep in every honest mind
Another law is burnt and bit,—
And that I execute. Thou blind!
Learn to have sight! Thou hast debased
The dwelling-place of God on earth,
The spirit He lent thee hast laid waste,
The image that thou bor’st at birth
With mould and filthiness defaced;
Thy Soul, that once had flight and song,
Thrust, clipp’d, among the common throng.
That is your debt. What will you do
When God demands His own of you?
His Mother.
[Confused.]
What will I do? Do?——
Brand.
Never fear;
I take your debt upon me whole.
God’s image, blotted in your soul,
In mine, Will-cleansed, shall stand clear.
Go with good courage to your rest.
By debt you shall not sleep oppress’d.
His Mother.
My debt and sin you’ll wipe away?
Brand.
Your debt. Observe. The debt: no more.
Your debt alone I can repay;
Your sin yourself must answer for.
The sum of native human worth
Crush’d in the brutish toil of earth
Can verily by human aid
To the last atom be repaid;
But in the losing of it lies
The sin, which who repents not—dies!
His Mother.
[Uneasily.]
’Twere’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,
Snow from its cold, wave from its wet!
Ask less!
Brand.
Toss a babe overboard,
And beg the blessing of the Lord.
His Mother.
Ask something else: ask hunger, thirst,—
But not what all men deem the worst!
Brand.
If just that worst is asked in vain,
No other can His grace obtain.
His Mother.
A money-alms I will present you!
Brand.
All?
His Mother.
All! Son, will not much content you?
Brand.
Your guilt you never shall put by
Till you, like Job, in ashes die.
His Mother.
[Wringing her hands.]
My life destroy’d, my soul denied,
My goods soon scatter’d far and wide!
Home then, and in these fond arms twine
All that I still can say is mine!
My treasure, child in anguish born,
For thee my bleeding breast was torn;—
Home then, and weep as mothers weep
Over their sickly babes asleep.—
Why did my soul in flesh take breath,
If love of flesh is the soul’s death?—
Stay near me, priest!—I am not clear
How I shall feel when death is near.
“Naked into the grave descend,”—
I’ll wait, at least, until the end.
[Goes.
Brand.
[Gazing after her.]
Yes, thy son shall still be near,
Call to him, and he shall hear.
Stretch thy hand, and, cold and perish’d,
At his heart it shall be cherish’d.
[Goes down to Agnes.]
As the Morn not so the Night.
Then my soul was set on fight,
Then I heard the war-drum rattle,
Yearn’d the sword of Wrath to swing,
Lies to trample, Trolls to fling,
Fill the world with clashing battle.
Agnes.
[Has turned round to him, and looks radiantly up.]
By the Night the Morn was pale.
Then I sought the joys that fail;
Sought to triumph by attaining
What in losing I am gaining.
Brand.
Visions stirring, visions splendid
Like a flock of swans descended,
On their spreading wings upbore me,
And I saw my way before me;—
Sin-subduer of the Age
Sternly stemming seas that rage.
Church-processions, banners streaming
Anthems rolling, incense steaming
Golden goblets, victor-songs,
Rapt applause of surging throngs,
Made a glory where I fought.
All in dazzling hues was wrought;—
Yet it was an empty dream,
A brief mountain-vision, caught
Half in glare and half in gleam.
Now I stand where twilight gray
Long forestalls the ebb of day,
’Twixt the water and the wild,
From the busy world exiled,
Just a strip of heaven’s blue dome
Visible;—but this is Home.
Now my Sabbath dream is dark;
To the stall my winged steed;
But I see a higher Mark.
Than to wield the knightly sabre,—
Daily duty, daily labour,
Hallow’d to a Sabbath-deed.
Agnes.
And that God, who was to fall?
Brand.
He shall, none the less, be fell’d,—
But in secret, unbeheld,
Not before the eyes of all.
Now I see, I judged astray
Where the Folk’s salvation lay.
Not by high heroic charges
Can you make the People whole;
That which faculty enlarges
Does not heal the fissured soul.
It is Will alone that matters
Will alone that mars or makes,
Will, that no distraction scatters,
And that no resistance breaks.—
[Turns towards the hamlet, where the shades of night are beginning to fall.]
Come then, Men, who downcast roam
The pent valley of my home;—
Close conversing we will try
Our own souls to purify,
Slackness curb and falsehood kill,
Rouse the lion’s cub of Will!
Manly, as the hands that smite,
Are the hands that hold the hoe;
There’s one end for all,—to grow
Tablets whereon God may write.
[He is going. Einar confronts him.
Einar.
Stand, and what you took restore!
Brand.
Is it she? You see her there.
Einar.
[To Agnes]
Choose between the sunny shore
And this savage den of care.
Agnes.
There I have no choice to make.
Einar.
Agnes, Agnes, hear me yet!
The old saying you forget,
Light to lift and hard to bear.bear.
Agnes.
Go with God, thou tempter fair;
I shall bear until I break.
Einar.
For thy mother’s, sisters’ sake!
Agnes.
Bring my greetings to my Home;
I will write—if words should come.
Einar.
Over ocean’s gleaming breast
White sails hurry from the strand;—
Like the sighs of dreaming brows,
Lofty, diamond-beaded prows
Speed them to their haven-rest
In a far-off vision’d land.
Agnes.
Sail to westward, sail to east;—
Think of me as one deceased.
Einar.
As a sister come with me.
Agnes.
[Shaking her head.]
’Twixt us rolls a boundless sea.
Einar.
O, then homeward to thy mother!
Agnes.
[Softly.]
Not from Master, Friend, and Brother.
Brand.
[Coming a step nearer.]
Youthful maiden, weigh it well.
In this mountain-prison pent,
Oversoar’d by crag and fell,
In this dim and yawning rent,
Life henceforward shall be gray
As an ebbing autumn-day.
Agnes.
Gloom appals no more; afar
Through the cloud-wrack gleams a star.
Brand.
Know, that I am stern to crave,
All or Nothing I will have;
If that call you disobey,
You have flung your life away.
No abatement in distress,
And for sin no tenderness,—
If life’s service God refuse,
Life you joyfully must lose.
Einar.
Fly this wild insensate play!
Spurn the sullen Doomer’s sway;
Live the life you know you may!
Brand.
At the crossway standst thou:—choose.
[Goes.
Einar.
Choose the stillness or the strife!
For the choice to go or stay
Is a choice of calm or fray,
Is a choice of Night or Day,
Is a choice of Death or Life!
Agnes.
[Rises, and then says slowly:]
On through Death. On into Night.—
Dawn beyond glows rosy-bright.

[She follows, where Brand has gone. Einar gazes a moment in bewilderment after her, then bows his head, and goes back to the fjord.