Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/184



Thou sufferest, Brand.

Thou art so dear.

Thou lov'st me, but thy love I fear. 'Tis stern.

Too stern?

Ask not; whereso Thou goest, I will also go!

Think'st thou without design I won thee Out of thy gladsome gay content, Or, half in earnest, laid upon thee The call to self-abandonment? Woe to us both; too dear we paid, Too vast a sacrifice we made; Thou art my wife: I crave thee all To live according to our call.

Crave; only leave me not.

Indeed I must; for rest and peace I need. Soon shall the great new Church arise!

My little Church a ruin lies.