I dare behold? As yet, thou hast shown nought
I dare not gaze on further.

Lucifer.

On, then, with m

at least not now mid-day rest is near

ty to disturb him till

ou have said well; I will He smiles, and sleeps!-S

young inheritor

ot pluck'd the fruitaked! Must the time

Young: sleep on, and smile! days when both are cheering

sins unknown,

? But now sleep on! eper smiles,

his long

ar blue

4

must dream -

CAIN AND ADAH

(CAIN, Act iii. Scen

Adah. HUSH! tread softly, Caves o'er them;

Cain.

Adah. Our little Enoch sleep

Of leaves, beneath the cypress
Cain.

A gloomy tree, which looks

O'er what it shadows; whe
For our child's canopy?

error.

Thou know'st

What is that

them die!

well, nor is that thought
as with thee.

might live!
one victim

DRAMATIC.

, at least not now: he will awake soon

of mid-day

vity

to disturb him till

rest is nearly over;

229

ou have said well; I will contam
He smiles, and sleeps L fileep on
young inheritor

oung sleep on, and smile tays when both are cheering pluck d the fruit -

sed!

er then;

thee.

have we

J

to

ne

sin

owledge?

Low, my Cain: thy words

Then leave me !

Never,

Say, what have we here?

itars, which our brother Abel made

absence, whereupon to offer

to God on thy return.

And how knew he, that I would be so ready

the burnt offerings, which he daily brings

.h a meek brow, whose base humility hows more of fear than worship, as a bribe To the Creator?

Adah. Cain! that proud spirit, who withdrew thee

hence,

Hath sadden'd thine still deeper. I had hoped
The promised wonders which thou hast beheld,
Visions, thou say'st, of past and present worlds,
Would have composed thy mind into the calm
Of a contented knowledge; but I see

Thy guide hath done thee evil; still I thank him,
And can forgive him all, that he so soon

Hath given thee back to us.

Cain.

Adah.

So soon?

'Tis scarcely

Two hours since ye departed: two long hours

To me, but only hours upon the sun.

Cain. And yet I have approach'd that sun, and seen Worlds which he once shone on, and never more

Shall light; and worlds he never lit: methought
Years had roll'd o'er my absence.

Adah.

Hardly hours.

Cain. The mind then hath capacity of time,
And measures it by that which it beholds,
Pleasing or painful; little or almighty.
I had beheld the immemorial works

Of endless beings; skirr'd extinguish'd worlds;
And, gazing on eternity, methought

I had borrow'd more by a few drops of ages
From its immensity: but now I feel

With making us the nothing which we are;
And after flattering dust with glimpses of
Eden and Immortality, resolves

It back to dust again-for what?

Adah.

Thou know'st

What is that

Even for our parents' error.

Cain.

To us? they sinn'd, then let them die!

Adah. Thou has not spoken well, nor is that thought Thy own, but of the spirit who was with thee. Would I could die for them, so they might live! Cain. Why, so say I-provided that one victim Might satiate the insatiable of life,

And that our little rosy sleeper there

Might never taste of death nor human sorrow,

Nor hand it down to those who spring from him.

Adah. How know we that some such atonement one

day

May not redeem our race?

Cain.

By sacrificing

The harmless for the guilty? what atonement

Were there? why, we are innocent: what have we

Done, that we must be victims for a deed

Before our birth, or need have victims to
Atone for this mysterious, nameless sin—
If it be such a sin to seek for knowledge?

Adah. Alas! thou sinnest now, my Cain: thy words Sound impious in mine ears.

Adah. Two altars, which our brother Abel made

During thine absence, whereupon to offer

A sacrifice to God on thy return.

Cain. And how knew he, that I would be so ready With the burnt offerings, which he daily brings

With a meek brow, whose base humility

Shows more of fear than worship, as a bribe
To the Creator?

Adah. Cain! that proud spirit, who withdrew thee

hence,

Hath sadden'd thine still deeper. I had hoped
The promised wonders which thou hast beheld,
Visions, thou say'st, of past and present worlds,
Would have composed thy mind into the calm
Of a contented knowledge; but I see

Thy guide hath done thee evil; still I thank him,
And can forgive him all, that he so soon

Hath given thee back to us.

Cain.

Adah.

So soon?

'Tis scarcely

Two hours since ye departed: two long hours

To me, but only hours upon the sun.

Cain. And yet I have approach'd that sun, and seen Worlds which he once shone on, and never more

Shall light; and worlds he never lit: methought

Years had roll'd o'er my absence.

Adah.

Hardly hours.

Cain. The mind then hath capacity of time,
And measures it by that which it beholds,
Pleasing or painful; little or almighty.
I had beheld the immemorial works

Of endless beings; skirr'd extinguish'd worlds ;
And, gazing on eternity, methought

I had borrow'd more by a few drops of ages
From its immensity: but now I feel

With making us the nothing which we are;
And after flattering dust with glimpses of
Eden and Immortality, resolves

It back to dust again—for what?