I shall nerve me, I shall will.
But it is the Feast this eve—
Last year’s how unlike! And wait
We will honour it in state.
I will fetch my treasures forth,
Whereof the uncounted worth
Best a mother can conceive,
To whose spirit they express
All her life-lost happiness.
[She kneels down by the cupboard, and takes various things out of a drawer. At the same moment, Brand opens the door, and is about to speak, when he observes her occupation, checks himself and remains standing. Agnes does not see him.