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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

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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.

Even for our parents' error.

Thou know'st

5.

CAIN.

What is that

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

ADAH.

Thou hast 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.

CAIN.

Then leave me!

ADAH.

Never,

Though thy God left thee.

CAIN.

Say, what have we here?

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.

Surely, 'tis well done.

CAIN.

One altar may suffice; I have no offering.

ADAH.

The fruits of the earth, 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 toil'd, and till'd, and sweaten in the sun
According to the curse:-must I do more?

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 groveling 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?

should I

For what

Be contrite? for my father's sin, already
Expiate with what we all have undergone,
And to be more than expiated by

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 snatch'd him in his sleep, and dash'd him 'gainst The rocks, than let him live to-

ADAH.

Oh, my God!

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.

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'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, nourishing,
And loving him? Soft! he awakes. Sweet Enoch!

[She goes to the child.

Oh Cain! look on him; see how full of life,

Of strength, of bloom, of beauty, and of joy,

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