Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/185



It was a blessed wind that blew And thy heart's idol overthrew!

[Clasps her as if in dread.]

Peace be upon thee—and, through thee, Peace also upon mine and me!

[Goes towards the side-door.

Brand, may I softly set ajar One hateful window-barrier,—so? Only a little? May I?

[In the doorway.]

No.

[Goes into his room.

Closed, all closed with bolt and bar! Seals on every passion set! Seal'd to sorrow and to sigh, Seal'd the grave and seal'd the sky, Seal'd to feel—and to forget! I will out! I gasp for breath In this lonely house of death. Out? Oh, whither? Angry eyes Glare upon me from the skies! Can I, flying, high or low, Bear my treasure where I go? Can I from my breast unsphere The mute vacancy of fear?—

[Listens at door.]

Loud he reads, he cannot hear. There's no comfort! There's no way God is busy; lists to-day