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Brand.
Well?
Agnes.
[Takes a folded child's cap from her bosom.]
See, <g>one</g> I thought to hide— One! Brand. The <g>cap</g>? Agnes. Yes, tear-bewet, Clammy with his mortal sweat, There in my beating bosom set! Brand. In thy idol-bonds abide. [Going.
Agnes.
Hold!
Brand.
What wilt thou?
Agnes.
Thou dost know.
[Holds out the cap to him
Brand.
[Approaches and asks, without taking it.]
Gladly given?
Agnes.
Gladly!
Brand.
So.
At the door she lingers yet. [Goes.