Wert present: was it some more hostile angel, Who walks not with Jehovah? or some wild Brute of the forest? Eve. Ah! a livid light Breaks through as from a thunder-cloud! yon brand, With scorpions! May his dreams be of his victim! His waking a continual dread of death! May the clear rivers turn to blood as he Stoops down to stain them with his raging lip! May every element shun or change to him! May he live in the pangs which others die with! And death itself wax something worse than death To him who first acquainted him with man! Hence, fratricide! henceforth that word is Cain, Massy and bloody! snatch'd from off the Through all the coming myriads of mankind, Who shall abhor thee, though thou wert altar, And black with smoke, and red with— Adam. Speak, my Son! Speak, and assure us, wretched as we are, That we are not more miserable still. Adah. Speak, Cain! and say it was not thou! Eve. It was. I see it now-he hangs his guilty head, And covers his ferocious eye with hands Incarnadine. their sire! May the grass wither from thy feet! the woods Deny thee shelter! earth à home! the dust A grave! the sun his light! and heaven her God! [Exit Eve. Adam. Cain! get thee forth: we dwell no more together. Depart! and leave the dead to me- I am Adah. Mother, thou dost him wrong-Henceforth alone_we never must meet more. Cain! clear thee from this horrible accusal, Which grief wrings from our parent. Eve. Hear, Jehovah! May the eternal serpent's curse be on him! Curse him not, mother, for he is thy son- Eve. He hath left thee no brotherZillah no husband - me no son!-for thus I curse him from my sight for evermore! All bonds I break between us, as he broke That of his nature,in yon-Oh death! death! Why didst thou not take me, who first incurr'd thee? Why dost thou not so now? Adam. Eve! let not this, Thy natural grief, lead to impiety! A heavy doom was long forespoken to us; And now that it begins, let it be borne In such sort as may show our God, that we Are faithful servants to his holy will. Eve (pointing to Cain). His will!! the will of you incarnate spirit Of death, whom I have brought upon the earth To strew it with the dead. May all the curses Of life be on him! and his agonies Drive him forth o'er the wilderness, like us From Eden, till his children do by him As he did by his brother! May the swords And wings of fiery cherubim pursue him By day and night-snakes spring up in his path— Earth's fruits be ashes in his mouth the leaves Adah. Oh, part not with him thus, my father: do not Add thy deep curse to Eve's upon his head! Adam. I curse him not: his spirit be his curse. Come, Zillah! Zillah. I must watch my husband's corse. Adam. We will return again, when he is gone Who hath provided for us this dread office. Come, Zillah! Zillah. Yet one kiss on yon pale clay, And those lips once so warm-my heart! my heart! [Exeunt Adam and Zillah weeping. Adah. Cain! thou hast heard, we must go forth. I am ready, So shall our children be. I will bear Enoch, And you his sister. Ere the sun declines Let us depart, nor walk the wilderness Under the cloud of night.-Nay, speak to me, To me-thine own. Cain. Leave me! Adah. Why, all have left thee. Cain. And wherefore lingerest thou? Dost thou not fear To dwell with one who hath done this? Adah. I fear Nothing except to leave thee, much as I Shrink from the deed which leaves thee brotherless. I must not speak of this—it is between thee And the great God. A Voice from within exclaims, Adah! Hearst thou that voice? On which he lays his head to sleep be Cain! Cain! strew'd Adah. It soundeth like an angel's tone. Enter the Angel of the Lord. Where is thy brother Abel? My brother's keeper? Angel. Cain! what hast thou done? The voice of thy slain brother's blood cries out, Even from the ground, unto the Lord! Cursed from the earth, which open'd late her mouth To drink thy brother's blood from thy rash hand. Henceforth, when thou shalt till the ground, it shall not Yield thee her strength; a fugitive shalt thou Be from this day, and vagabond on earth! Adah. This punishment is more than he can bear. Behold, thou drivest him from the face of earth, And from the face of God shall he be hid. Cain. Would they could ! but who are they Shall slay me? where are these on the lone earth Cain. What Wouldst thou with me? Angel. To mark upon thy brow Exemption from such deeds as thou hast done. Cain. No, let me die! Angel. It must not be. [The Angel sets the mark on Cain's brow. Cain. It burns My brow, but nought to that which is within it. Is there more? let me meet it as I may. Angel. Stern hast thou been and stubborn from the womb, As the ground thou must henceforth till; but he Thou slew'st was gentle as the flocks he tended. Cain. After the fall too soon was I begotten; Ere yet my mother's mind subsided from The serpent, and my sire still mourn'd for Eden. That which I am, I am; I did not seek And why not so? let him return to day, Angel. Who shall heal murder? what is done is done. Go forth! fulfil thy days! and be thy deeds Cain. Ah! little knows he what he weeps for! And I who have shed blood cannot shed tears! But the four rivers would not cleanse my soul. Thinkst thou my boy will bear to look on me? Adah. If I thought that he would not, Cain (interrupting her). No, of them: Henceforth to dry up tears, and not to shed Cain. And he who lieth there was child less. I dried the fountain of the gentle race, Which might have graced his recent marriage-couch, And might have temper'd this stern blood of mine, Uniting with our children Abel's offspring! Adah. Peace be with him! [Exeunt. Enter ANAH and AROLIBAMAH. Anah. But, Aholibamah, I love our God less since his angel loved me: This cannot be of good; and though I know not That I do wrong, I feel a thousand fears Anah. Our father sleeps: it is the hour Which are not ominous of right. when they Who love us are accustom'd to descend Through the deep clouds o'er rocky Ararat: How my heart beats! Aholibamah. Let us proceed upon Our invocation. Anah. But the stars are hidden. I tremble. Ahol. So do I, but not with fear Of aught save their delay. Anah. My sister, though I love Azaziel more than oh, too much! What was I going to say? my heart grows impious. Ahol. And where is the impiety of loving Celestial natures? Ahol. Then wed thee Unto some son of clay, and toil and spin! There's Japhet loves thee well, hath loved thee long; Marry, and bring forth dust! Anah. I should have loved Azaziel not less were he mortal; yet I am glad he is not. I can not outlive him, And when I think that his immortal wings As he adores the Highest, death becomes Mine would be such for him, were I the And he the perishable. That he will single forth some other daughter Of Earth,and love her as he once loved Anah. Anah. And if it should be so, and she so loved him, Better thus than that he should weep for me. Ahol. If I thought thus of Samiasa's love, All seraph as he is, I'd spurn him from me. But to our invocation! Tis the hour. Anah. Seraph! From thy sphere! Whatever star contain thy glory: Albeit thou watchest with "the seven," Though through space infinite and hoary Before thy bright wings worlds be driven, Yet hear! Oh! think of her who holds thee dear! And though she nothing is to thee, Yet think that thou art all to her. Thou canst not tell,-and never be Such pangs decreed to aught save me,The bitterness of tears. Eternity is in thine years, Unborn, undying beauty in thine eyes; With me thou canst not sympathize, Except in love, and there thou must Acknowledge that more loving dust Ne'er wept beneath the skies. Thou walkst thy many worlds, thou seest Of those cast out from Eden's gate: O hear! For thou hast loved me, and I would not die Until I know what I must die in knowing, That thou forget'st in thine eternity Her whose heart death could not keep from o'erflowing For thee, immortal essence as thou art! Great is their love who love in sin and fear; And such I feel are waging in my heart appear, For sorrow is our element; An Eden kept afar from sight, The hour is near Which tells me we are not abandon'd quite.— My own Azaziel! be but here, Wheresoe'er Thou rulest in the upper airOr warring with the spirits who may dare Dispute with Him, Who made all empires, empire; or recalling, Some wandering star which shoots through the abyss, Whose tenants dying, while their world Share the dim destiny of clay in this; I call thee, I await thee, and I love thee. Descend and share my lot! Though I be form'd of clay, And thou of beams More bright than those of day In me, which, though forbidden yet toshine, I feel was lighted at thy God's and thine. It may be hidden long: death and decay Our mother Eve bequeath'd us—but my Anah. Sister! sister! I view them winging Their bright way through the parted night. Ahol. The clouds from off their pinions flinging As though they bore to-morrow's light. Anah. But if our Father see the sight! Ahol. He would but deem it was the moon Rising unto some sorcerer's tune. An hour too soon. Anah. They come! he comes !— Azaziel! To meet them! Oh! for wings to bear Anah. Lo! they have kindled all the west, On Ararat's late secret crest A mild and many-colour'd bow, Which the Leviathan hath lash'd Ahol. They have touch'd earth! Samiasa! SCENE II-Enter IRAD and Japhet. Irad. Despond not: wherefore wilt thou wander thus To add thy silence to the silent night, And lift thy tearful eye unto the stars? They cannot aid thee. Japhet. But they soothe me-now Perhaps she looks upon them as I look. Methinks a being that is beautiful Becometh more so as it looks on beauty, The eternal beauty of undying things. Oh, Anah! Irad. But she loves thee not. And would not feel as thou dost, for more shekels Than all our father's herds would bring if weigh'd Against the metal of the sons of CainThe yellow dust they try to barter with us, As if such useless and discolour'd trash, The refuse of the earth, could be received For milk, and wool, and flesh, and fruits, and all Our flocks and wilderness afford. Go, Japhet, Sigh to the stars as wolves howl to the moon_ I must back to my rest. Japhet. And so would I If I could rest. Irad. Thou wilt not to our tents then? Japhet. No,Irad; I will to the cavern, whose Mouth they say opens from the internal world To let the inner spirits of the earth Irad. Wherefore so? What wouldst thou there? Japhet. Soothe further my sad spirit With gloom as sad: it is a hopeless spot, Irad. And proud Aholibamah spurns me And I am hopeless. also. Japhet. I feel for thee too. Irad. Let her keep her pride, Mine hath enabled me to bear her scorn; It may be, time too will avenge it. Japhet. Canst thou Find joy in such a thought? Irad. Nor joy, nor sorrow. I loved her well; I would have loved her better, Had love been met with love: as 'tis, I leave her To brighter destinies, if so she deems them. Japhet. What destinies? Irad. I have some cause to think She loves another. Japhet. Anah! Irad. No; her sister. Japhet. What other? Irad. But 'tis dangerous; Strange sounds and sights have peopled it with terrors. 1 must go with thee. Japhet. Irad, no; believe me I feel no evil thought, and fear no evil. Irad. But evil things will be thy foe the more As not being of them: turn thy steps aside, Or let mine be with thine. Japhet. No; neither, Irad; I must proceed alone. Irad. Then peace be with thee! [Exit Irad. Japhet (solus). Peace! I have sought it where it should be found, In love with love too, which perhaps deserved it; And, in its stead, a heaviness of heart— |
