The Works of Lord Byron Volume V Part 68

_Adah_. Surely, 'tis well done.

_Cain_. One altar may suffice; _I_ have no offering.

_Adah_. The fruits of the earth,[128] the early, beautiful, Blossom and bud--and bloom of flowers and fruits-- These are a goodly offering to the Lord, Given with a gentle and a contrite spirit.

_Cain_. I have toiled, and tilled, and sweaten in the sun, According to the curse:--must I do more? 110 For what should I be gentle? for a war With all the elements ere they will yield The bread we eat? For what must I be grateful?

For being dust, and grovelling in the dust, Till I return to dust? If I am nothing-- For nothing shall I be an hypocrite, And seem well-pleased with pain? For what should I Be contrite? for my father's sin, already Expiate with what we all have undergone, And to be more than expiated by 120 The ages prophesied, upon our seed.

Little deems our young blooming sleeper, there, The germs of an eternal misery To myriads is within him! better 'twere I s.n.a.t.c.hed him in his sleep, and dashed him 'gainst The rocks, than let him live to----

_Adah_. Oh, my G.o.d!

Touch not the child--my child! _thy_ child! Oh, Cain!

_Cain_. Fear not! for all the stars, and all the power Which sways them, I would not accost yon infant With ruder greeting than a father's kiss. 130

_Adah_. Then, why so awful in thy speech?

_Cain_. I said, 'Twere better that he ceased to live, than give Life to so much of sorrow as he must Endure, and, harder still, bequeath; but since That saying jars you, let us only say-- 'Twere better that he never had been born.

_Adah_. Oh, do not say so! Where were then the joys, The mother's joys of watching, nouris.h.i.+ng, And loving him? Soft! he awakes. Sweet Enoch!

[_She goes to the child_.

Oh, Cain! look on him; see how full of life, 140 Of strength, of bloom, of beauty, and of joy-- How like to me--how like to thee, when gentle-- For _then_ we are _all_ alike; is't not so, Cain?

Mother, and sire, and son, our features are Reflected in each other; as they are In the clear waters, when _they_ are _gentle_, and When _thou_ art _gentle_. Love us, then, my Cain!

And love thyself for our sakes, for we love thee.

Look! how he laughs and stretches out his arms, And opens wide his blue eyes upon thine, 150 To hail his father; while his little form Flutters as winged with joy. Talk not of pain!

The childless cherubs well might envy thee The pleasures of a parent! Bless him, Cain!

As yet he hath no words to thank thee, but His heart will, and thine own too.

_Cain_. Bless thee, boy!

If that a mortal blessing may avail thee, To save thee from the Serpent's curse!

_Adah_. It shall.

Surely a father's blessing may avert A reptile's subtlety.

_Cain_. Of that I doubt; 160 But bless him ne'er the less.

_Adah_. Our brother comes.

_Cain_. Thy brother Abel.

_Enter_ ABEL.

_Abel_. Welcome, Cain! My brother, The peace of G.o.d be on thee!

_Cain_. Abel, hail!

_Abel_. Our sister tells me that thou hast been wandering, In high communion with a Spirit, far Beyond our wonted range. Was he of those We have seen and spoken with, like to our father?

_Cain_. No.

_Abel_. Why then commune with him? he may be A foe to the Most High.

_Cain_. And friend to man.

Has the Most High been so--if so you term him? 170

_Abel_. _Term him!_ your words are strange to-day, my brother.

My sister Adah, leave us for awhile-- We mean to sacrifice[129].

_Adah_. Farewell, my Cain; But first embrace thy son. May his soft spirit, And Abel's pious ministry, recall thee To peace and holiness! [_Exit_ ADAH, _with her child_.

_Abel_. Where hast thou been?

_Cain_. I know not.

_Abel_. Nor what thou hast seen?

_Cain_. The dead-- The Immortal--the Unbounded--the Omnipotent-- The overpowering mysteries of s.p.a.ce-- The innumerable worlds that were and are-- 180 A whirlwind of such overwhelming things, Suns, moons, and earths, upon their loud-voiced spheres Singing in thunder round me, as have made me Unfit for mortal converse: leave me, Abel.

_Abel_. Thine eyes are flas.h.i.+ng with unnatural light-- Thy cheek is flushed with an unnatural hue-- Thy words are fraught with an unnatural sound-- What may this mean?

_Cain_. It means--I pray thee, leave me.

_Abel_. Not till we have prayed and sacrificed together.

_Cain_. Abel, I pray thee, sacrifice alone-- 190 Jehovah loves thee well.

_Abel_. _Both_ well, I hope.

_Cain_. But thee the better: I care not for that; Thou art fitter for his wors.h.i.+p than I am; Revere him, then--but let it be alone-- At least, without me.

_Abel_. Brother, I should ill Deserve the name of our great father's son, If, as my elder, I revered thee not, And in the wors.h.i.+p of our G.o.d, called not On thee to join me, and precede me in Our priesthood--'tis thy place.

_Cain_. But I have ne'er 200 a.s.serted it.

_Abel_. The more my grief; I pray thee To do so now: thy soul seems labouring in Some strong delusion; it will calm thee.

_Cain_. No; Nothing can calm me more. _Calm!_ say I? Never Knew I what calm was in the soul, although I have seen the elements stilled. My Abel, leave me!

Or let me leave thee to thy pious purpose.

_Abel_. Neither; we must perform our task together.

Spurn me not.

_Cain_. If it must be so----well, then, What shall I do?

_Abel_. Choose one of those two altars. 210

_Cain_. Choose for me: they to me are so much turf And stone.

_Abel_. Choose thou!