Chapter 19

Brand.

Indeed?

Einar.

Divergent paths we follow;One seeks the height, and one the hollow.

Divergent paths we follow;

One seeks the height, and one the hollow.

Brand.

But after?

Einar.

True; I turn’d me thence,To preach for Total Abstinence;But since that Work for the unwaryIs strewn with perilous temptation,I chose another occupation,And travel now as Missionary——

True; I turn’d me thence,

To preach for Total Abstinence;

But since that Work for the unwary

Is strewn with perilous temptation,

I chose another occupation,

And travel now as Missionary——

Brand.

Where?

Einar.

To the Caudate-nigger State.But now, I think, we’ll separate;My time is precious——

To the Caudate-nigger State.

But now, I think, we’ll separate;

My time is precious——

Brand.

Won’t you stay?You see here’s festival to-day.

Won’t you stay?

You see here’s festival to-day.

Einar.

Thanks, no; the swarthy Heathens wait.—Farewell.[Going.

Thanks, no; the swarthy Heathens wait.—

Farewell.

[Going.

Brand.

And does no memory stir,Bidding you ask—?

And does no memory stir,

Bidding you ask—?

Einar.

Of what?

Brand.

Of herWho would have grieved at the abyss,That parts another day from this.

Of her

Who would have grieved at the abyss,

That parts another day from this.

Einar.

I guess your meaning; you referTo that young female, whose allureHeld me in pleasure’s net secure,Till Faith’s ablution made me pure.—Yes, and how is it then with her?

I guess your meaning; you refer

To that young female, whose allure

Held me in pleasure’s net secure,

Till Faith’s ablution made me pure.

—Yes, and how is it then with her?

Brand.

Next year I won her for my wife.

Einar.

That’sThat’sunimportant, I preferTo leave these trivial facts unknownWhat’sweightyI desire alone.

That’sThat’sunimportant, I prefer

To leave these trivial facts unknown

What’sweightyI desire alone.

Brand.

God richly bless’d our common lifeWith joy and sorrow: The child pined——

God richly bless’d our common life

With joy and sorrow: The child pined——

Einar.

That’s unimportant——

Brand.

So it is;He was but given to be resign’d;Our eyes one day shall look on his.But afterwards she also died;Their graves bloom yonder side by side.

So it is;

He was but given to be resign’d;

Our eyes one day shall look on his.

But afterwards she also died;

Their graves bloom yonder side by side.

Einar.

That’s unimportant——

Brand.

That likewise?

Einar.

Such things are trifles in my eyes,How did she die, I want to know?

Such things are trifles in my eyes,

How did she die, I want to know?

Brand.

With Hope that yet a Dawn shall glow,With all her heart’s rich treasure whole.With Will that never lost control,With thanks for all that life had lentAnd life had taken away, she went.

With Hope that yet a Dawn shall glow,

With all her heart’s rich treasure whole.

With Will that never lost control,

With thanks for all that life had lent

And life had taken away, she went.

Einar.

Trumpery figments every one.Say what the faith she died in was.

Trumpery figments every one.

Say what the faith she died in was.

Brand.

Unshaken.

Einar.

In what?

Brand.

In God.

Einar.

AlasOnly in Him? She is undone.

Alas

Only in Him? She is undone.

Brand.

What say you?

Einar.

Damn’d, to my regret.

Brand.[Quietly.]

Brand.

[Quietly.]

Go, scoundrel!

Einar.

Youshall feel as wellThe clutches of the Lord of hell;—For both, eternal torments wait.

Youshall feel as well

The clutches of the Lord of hell;—

For both, eternal torments wait.

Brand.

You, wretch, dare sentence to the Fire!Yourself late wallow’d in the mire——

You, wretch, dare sentence to the Fire!

Yourself late wallow’d in the mire——

Einar.

On me no spot is to be seen;The tub of Faith hath wash’d me clean;Each splash has vanish’d, scraped and scoredOn Holiness’s washing-board;In Vigilance’s mangle IHave wrung my Adam’s-vesture dry;And shine like snowy surplice fair,Soap-lather’d with the suds of Prayer!

On me no spot is to be seen;

The tub of Faith hath wash’d me clean;

Each splash has vanish’d, scraped and scored

On Holiness’s washing-board;

In Vigilance’s mangle I

Have wrung my Adam’s-vesture dry;

And shine like snowy surplice fair,

Soap-lather’d with the suds of Prayer!

Brand.

Hold!

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.

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.]

Brand.

[Looks a while after him; all at once his eyes flash and he breaks out.]

That, that is the man I need!Now all bonds are burst that bound me;Now my flag shall wave around meThough none follow where I lead!

That, 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.]

The Mayor.

[Comes hastily in.]

Pray, dear Pastor, hasten, do!The procession-people standWaiting only the command—

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 stormOn 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!

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!

Brand.

Never will I hide my faceIn the crowd that you command;Let them seek me: here I stand.

Never will I hide my face

In the crowd that you command;

Let them seek me: here I stand.

The Mayor.

Are you sane?

Brand.

The path you paceIs too narrow for my tread.

The path you pace

Is too narrow for my tread.

The Mayor.

And ’twill still grow less and lessAs the people push ahead.Zounds! They spurn at rod and check!Parsons, Dean, and CorporationJostled to the brimming beck—!Quickly, friend, make applicationOf the scourge of your persuasion!Ha, too late, they smash the line;The procession is a wreck!

And ’twill still grow less and less

As the people push ahead.

Zounds! They spurn at rod and check!

Parsons, Dean, and Corporation

Jostled to the brimming beck—!

Quickly, friend, make application

Of the scourge of your persuasion!

Ha, too late, they smash the line;

The procession is a wreck!

The multitude stream in, and break in wild disorder through the procession to the church.

Voices.

Priest!

Others.

[Pointing up to the Church steps, whereBrandstands.]

See yonder!

Others again.

Give the sign!

The Dean.[Jostled in the throng.]

The Dean.

[Jostled in the throng.]

Mayor, Mayor, control them, pray!

The Mayor.

All my words are thrown away!

The Schoolmaster.[ToBrand.]

The Schoolmaster.

[ToBrand.]

Speak to them, and cast a gleamOn their spirits’ troubled stream!What you summon’d us to see,Was it Feast or foolery?

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!Whollyye must will to loseThe old vesture of your lust,Utterly anew be clad,Ere our Temple from the dustRises, as it shall and must!

O, there stirs a current, then,

In these stagnant waters.—Men,

At the crossway stand ye: choose!

Whollyye 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 thoughtYe in some sense also wroughtFor the God who hateth Lies!When I dream’d that I could lureTo your hearts His Spirit pureBy a feat of compromise.Small the Church was; logic thencePalter’d to the inference:Twice the size—that cannot fail;Fivefold,—that must needs prevail!O, I saw not that the callWas forNothingor elseAll.Down that easy way I reel’d,But to-day the Lord has spoken,In this very hour has peal’dOverhead the awful blastOf His Judgment-trump at last,—And I listen’d, in the windOf my anguish, baffled, broken,—Even as David, having sinn’d—;Now all hesitation dies.Men! The Devil iscompromise!

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

By a feat of compromise.

Small the Church was; logic thence

Palter’d to the inference:

Twice the size—that cannot fail;

Fivefold,—that must needs prevail!

O, I saw not that the call

Was forNothingor elseAll.

Down that easy way I reel’d,

But to-day the Lord has spoken,

In this very hour has peal’d

Overhead the awful blast

Of His Judgment-trump at last,—

And I listen’d, in the wind

Of my anguish, baffled, broken,—

Even as David, having sinn’d—;

Now all hesitation dies.

Men! The Devil iscompromise!

The Multitude.[With growing excitement.]

The Multitude.

[With growing excitement.]

Down with them that quench’d our lightSapp’d the marrow of our might!

Down with them that quench’d our light

Sapp’d the marrow of our might!

Brand.

In your souls the demon dwellsThat has bound you with his spells.You have put your powers at mart,You have cleft yourselves in twain;Discord therefore numbs your brain,Petrifies your hollow heart.To the Church to-day what drew you?But the show, the show—nought else!—Roll of organ, clash of bells,—And to feel the tingle through youOf a speaking-furnace dart,As it lisps and lilts and prattles,As it rolls and roars and rattles,By the strictest rules of Art!

In your souls the demon dwells

That has bound you with his spells.

You have put your powers at mart,

You have cleft yourselves in twain;

Discord therefore numbs your brain,

Petrifies your hollow heart.

To the Church to-day what drew you?

But the show, the show—nought else!—

Roll of organ, clash of bells,—

And to feel the tingle through you

Of a speaking-furnace dart,

As it lisps and lilts and prattles,

As it rolls and roars and rattles,

By the strictest rules of Art!

The Dean.[To himself.]

The Dean.

[To himself.]

The Mayor’s chatter, he must mean.

The Mayor.[Likewise.]

The Mayor.

[Likewise.]

That’s the twaddle of the Dean!

Brand.

Nothing but the altar-glowOf the Festival you know.Get you home then to your sloth,Get you home to toil and stress,Soul as well as body clotheIn its common work-day dress,—And the Bible slumber soundTill the next Saint’s day comes round.O, it was not to this endThat the Offering-cup I drain’d!I the Greater Church ordain’d,That its shadow might descend,Not alone on Faith and CreedBut on everything in lifeThat by God’s leave lives indeed;—On our daily strain and strife,Midnight weeping, evening rest,Youth’s impetuous delight,All that harbours of good right,Mean or precious, in the breast.Yonder foss’s hidden thunder,And the beck that sparkles under,And the bellow of wild weather,And the murmurous ocean’s tongueShould have melted, soul-possess’d,With the organ’s roll together,And the gather’d people’s song.Sweep this lying Labour hence!Mighty only in pretence!Stricken inly with decayOn its consecration day,—Symbol of your impotence.All the germs of soul you aimBy divided toil to maim;For the week’s six days ye dragTo the deepest deep God’s flag,For one only of the seven,Let it flutter forth to heaven!

Nothing but the altar-glow

Of the Festival you know.

Get you home then to your sloth,

Get you home to toil and stress,

Soul as well as body clothe

In its common work-day dress,—

And the Bible slumber sound

Till the next Saint’s day comes round.

O, it was not to this end

That the Offering-cup I drain’d!

I the Greater Church ordain’d,

That its shadow might descend,

Not alone on Faith and Creed

But on everything in life

That by God’s leave lives indeed;—

On our daily strain and strife,

Midnight weeping, evening rest,

Youth’s impetuous delight,

All that harbours of good right,

Mean or precious, in the breast.

Yonder foss’s hidden thunder,

And the beck that sparkles under,

And the bellow of wild weather,

And the murmurous ocean’s tongue

Should have melted, soul-possess’d,

With the organ’s roll together,

And the gather’d people’s song.

Sweep this lying Labour hence!

Mighty only in pretence!

Stricken inly with decay

On its consecration day,—

Symbol of your impotence.

All the germs of soul you aim

By divided toil to maim;

For the week’s six days ye drag

To the deepest deep God’s flag,

For one only of the seven,

Let it flutter forth to heaven!

Voices from the Throng.

Lead us, lead us! Tempest lowers!Lead us, and the day is ours!

Lead us, lead us! Tempest lowers!

Lead us, and the day is ours!

The Dean.

Do not hear him! Nought he knowsOf the Faith a Christian owes!

Do not hear him! Nought he knows

Of the Faith a Christian owes!

Brand.

Ay, thou nam’st the flaw wherebyBoth the throng, and thou and I,Are beset! To souls aloneFaith is possible,—show me one!Show me one that his best treasureHas not inly flung to wasteIn his fumbling, or his haste!First, the reeling plunge for pleasureTo the tabor’s juggling strainTill the zest of pleasure’s slain;Then, soul-ruins, charr’d and stark,Turn to dance before the Ark!When the cup’s last liquor slipsThrough the brain-worn cripple’s lips,Ho! ’tis time to pray and mend,Sure of pardon in the end.First God’s image you outwear,Live the beast within you bare,Then to Mercy cry your needs,Seeking God—as invalids!So, His Kingdom’s overthrown.What should He with souls effeteGrovelling at His mercy-seat?Said He not that then aloneWhen your lifeblood pulses tense,Through all veins of soul and sense,Ye His kingdom shall inherit?Children ye must be to share it;No man hobbles through its gate.Come then, ye whose cheek is rifeWith the bloom of childhood yetTo the greater Church of Life!

Ay, thou nam’st the flaw whereby

Both the throng, and thou and I,

Are beset! To souls alone

Faith is possible,—show me one!

Show me one that his best treasure

Has not inly flung to waste

In his fumbling, or his haste!

First, the reeling plunge for pleasure

To the tabor’s juggling strain

Till the zest of pleasure’s slain;

Then, soul-ruins, charr’d and stark,

Turn to dance before the Ark!

When the cup’s last liquor slips

Through the brain-worn cripple’s lips,

Ho! ’tis time to pray and mend,

Sure of pardon in the end.

First God’s image you outwear,

Live the beast within you bare,

Then to Mercy cry your needs,

Seeking God—as invalids!

So, His Kingdom’s overthrown.

What should He with souls effete

Grovelling at His mercy-seat?

Said He not that then alone

When your lifeblood pulses tense,

Through all veins of soul and sense,

Ye His kingdom shall inherit?

Children ye must be to share it;

No man hobbles through its gate.

Come then, ye whose cheek is rife

With the bloom of childhood yet

To the greater Church of Life!

The Mayor.

Open it then!

The Multitude.[Crying out as in anguish.]

The Multitude.

[Crying out as in anguish.]

No! Not this!

Brand.

It has neither mark nor bound,But its floor the green earth is,Mead and mountain, sea and sound;And the overarching skyIs its only canopy.There shall all thy work be wroughtAs an anthem for God’s ear,There thy week-day toil be soughtWith no sacrilege to fear.There the World be like a treeFolded in its shielding bark;Faith and Action blended be.There shall daily labour fuseWith right Teaching and right Use,Daily drudgery be oneWith star-flights beyond the sun,One with Yule-tide revelryAnd the Dance before the Ark.

It has neither mark nor bound,

But its floor the green earth is,

Mead and mountain, sea and sound;

And the overarching sky

Is its only canopy.

There shall all thy work be wrought

As an anthem for God’s ear,

There thy week-day toil be sought

With no sacrilege to fear.

There the World be like a tree

Folded in its shielding bark;

Faith and Action blended be.

There shall daily labour fuse

With right Teaching and right Use,

Daily drudgery be one

With star-flights beyond the sun,

One with Yule-tide revelry

And the Dance before the Ark.

[A stormy agitation passes over the multitude; some retire; most press close aboutBrand.

A Thousand Voices.

Light is kindled in the dark;—Life and serving God’s the same!

Light is kindled in the dark;—

Life and serving God’s the same!

The Dean.

Woe on us! He wins them—hark!Mayor, sexton, beadle, clerk!

Woe on us! He wins them—hark!

Mayor, sexton, beadle, clerk!

The Mayor.[Aside.]

The Mayor.

[Aside.]

Do not scream so, o’ God’s name!With a bull who wants a bout?Let him roar his ravin out!

Do not scream so, o’ God’s name!

With a bull who wants a bout?

Let him roar his ravin out!

Brand.[To the multitude.]

Brand.

[To the multitude.]

Hence—away! God is afar!Cannot be where such men are!Fair His kingdom is and free!

Hence—away! God is afar!

Cannot be where such men are!

Fair His kingdom is and free!

[Locks the church-door and takes the keys in his hand.]

Here I will be priest no more.I revoke my gift;—from meNo man shall receive the keyOf 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 sighRoam the earth with venom’d breath,Like the flagging gasp of death!

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.]

The Mayor.

[Aside with relief.]

Ha,hishope of knighthood’s dim!

The Dean.[Similarly.]

The Dean.

[Similarly.]

Well; no bishopric for him!

Brand.

Come thou, young man—fresh and free—Let a life-breeze lighten theeFrom this dim vault’s clinging dust.Conquer with me! For thou mustOne 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!

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!

Brand.

Read! With you I break my pact.

The Multitude.

Show the way, and we will follow!

Brand.

Over frozen height and hollow,Over all the land we’ll fare,Loose each soul-destroying snareThat this people holds in fee,Lift and lighten, and set free,Blot the vestige of the beast,Each a Man and each a Priest,Stamp anew the outworn brand,Make a Temple of the land.

Over frozen height and hollow,

Over all the land we’ll fare,

Loose each soul-destroying snare

That this people holds in fee,

Lift and lighten, and set free,

Blot the vestige of the beast,

Each a Man and each a Priest,

Stamp anew the outworn brand,

Make a Temple of the land.

[The multitude, including theSextonandSchoolmaster, throng around him.Brandis lifted on to their shoulders.

Many Voices.

’Tis a great Time! Visions fairDazzle through the noontide glare.

’Tis a great Time! Visions fair

Dazzle through the noontide glare.

[The great mass of the assemblage streams away up the valley; a few remain.

The Dean.[To the departing crowd.]

The Dean.

[To the departing crowd.]

O, ye blinded ones, what would you?Lo! behind his seeming soothSatan scheming to delude you!

O, ye blinded ones, what would you?

Lo! behind his seeming sooth

Satan scheming to delude you!

The Mayor.

Ho there! Turn! Folks born to trackSafe home-waters still and smooth!Stop!—ye go to ruin and wrack!—(Dogs! And not a word comes back!)

Ho there! Turn! Folks born to track

Safe home-waters still and smooth!

Stop!—ye go to ruin and wrack!—

(Dogs! And not a word comes back!)

The Dean.

Think of household and of home!

Voices from the Multitude.

To a greater Home we come!

The Mayor.

Think of meadow-plot and field;Think of teeming stall and fold!

Think of meadow-plot and field;

Think of teeming stall and fold!

Voices.

Heavenly dews did manna yieldWhen the chosen starved of old!

Heavenly dews did manna yield

When the chosen starved of old!

The Dean.

Hark! your women cry inchorus!chorus!

Voices.[In the distance.]

Voices.

[In the distance.]

Ours they are not if they quail!

The Dean.

“Father’s gone!” your children wail.

The whole Multitude.

Be against us, or be for us!

The Dean.[Gazes a while with folded hands after them; then dejectedly.]

The Dean.

[Gazes a while with folded hands after them; then dejectedly.]

By his faithless flock desertedStands the old shepherd, heavy-hearted,Plunder’d to the very skin!

By his faithless flock deserted

Stands the old shepherd, heavy-hearted,

Plunder’d to the very skin!

The Mayor.[Shaking his fist atBrand.]

The Mayor.

[Shaking his fist atBrand.]

Histhe scandal;histhe sin!But we’ll shortly win the fight!

Histhe scandal;histhe sin!

But we’ll shortly win the fight!

The Dean.[Almost breaking down.]

The Dean.

[Almost breaking down.]

Win? Of all our people cheated?—

The Mayor.

Ay, but we are not defeated,If I know my lambs aright![Follows them.

Ay, but we are not defeated,

If I know my lambs aright!

[Follows them.

The Dean.

Whither will he, in heaven’s name?As I live, he’s after them!Ha, my drooping courage rises,I will also do and dare,—Make assaults and capture prizes!Bring my steed;—that is, prepareA safe, steady mountain mare![They go.

Whither will he, in heaven’s name?

As I live, he’s after them!

Ha, my drooping courage rises,

I will also do and dare,—

Make assaults and capture prizes!

Bring my steed;—that is, prepare

A safe, steady mountain mare!

[They go.

By the highest farms in the valley. The land rises in the background, and passes into great barren mountains. Rain.

Brand, followed by the multitude—men, women, and children,—comes up the slopes.

Brand.

Look onward! Triumph flies ahead!Your homes are hidden in the deep,And over it, from steep to steep,The storm his cloudy tent has spread.Forget the pit of sloth ye trod,Fly free aloft, ye sons of God!

Look onward! Triumph flies ahead!

Your homes are hidden in the deep,

And over it, from steep to steep,

The storm his cloudy tent has spread.

Forget the pit of sloth ye trod,

Fly free aloft, ye sons of God!

A Man.

Wait; my old father is dead beaten.

Another.

Since yesterday I’ve nothing eaten——

Several.

Ay, still our hunger, slake our thirst!

Brand.

On, on, across the mountain first!

Back to Index Next