Adam — Already towards the west
The sun approaches fast, and I as yet
Have found them not !
The sun approaches fast, and I as yet
Have found them not !
Universal Anthology - v01
O,
What dreadful flame has now succeeded it !
I follow thee, for fear that villain Abel
Should first arrive there.
Cain and Abel [turning towards the river]. Abel — Cain! what is't I see? Cain [running towards him with his pickax] —
Ah, traitor ! dost thou come from there ? I soon
Will punish thee. —
Abel [flying backwards] Help, mother, help me, help ! Cain [following him, and disappearing from view] —
Fly as thou mayst, I'll overtake thee soon.
Ah, Ipray thee, stay . . .
Cain, Abel.
Cain —
Come, villain, come ! [Dragging him by the hair.
Abel —
What have I
Cain —
Thy final vital breath.
Abel — Ah, hear thou me !
O my dear brother, pity ! done ? . . .
Come ! far away indeed From that much-longed-for river shalt thou breathe
My brother, do thou hearken !
Cain — No, that good
Which was my due, but which I ne'er received, Shall ne'er be thine. Perfidious one, behold, Around thee look ; this is the desert waste,
From which I fled, and where thou leftest me : Thy last looks never shall behold those waters Which thou, in thy disloyal thoughts, didst deem As crossed already : here, upon this sand,
Thou soon shalt lie a corpse.
Abel— But, O my God!
What means all this ? at least explain thy words : I understand thee not : explain, and hear me ; Thou afterwards mayst slay me at thy will,
But hear me first, I pray.
Cain — Say on.
Abel — But tell me,
Inwhat have Ioffended thee ? . . . Alas!
THE MURDER OF ABEL.
How can I speak to thee, if fierce and stern
Thou standest o'er me ? neck and nostrils swollen; Looks full of fire and blood ; thy lips, thy face All livid ; whilst thy knees, thine arms, thy head Are moved convulsively by trembling strange ! — Pity, my brother : calm thyself : and loosen
Thy hold upon my hair a little, so
That I may breathe.
Cain — I never fancied, Abel, That thou wouldst be a traitor.
Abel — I am not. My father knows it; and thou too.
Cain — My father ? Ne'er name him : father of us both alike,
And just, I deemed him, and I was deceived.
Abel —
What sayest thou ? Dost doubt his love ? thou scarce Hadst gone away from us this morning, when, Anxious for thee, with mortal sorrow filled,
My father straightway sent me on thy track . . .
Cain —
Perfidious ones,
I know it all ; to me This was a horrible, undoubted proof
Of my bad brother and my still worse father. I know it all ; the veil has fallen ; the secret Has been revealed to me : and I'm resolved That thou shalt ne'er be happy at my cost.
Abel —
Cain, by that God who both of us created,
And who maintains us, I entreat of thee,
Explain thyself : what is my fault ? what secret Has been revealed to thee ? upon my face,
And in my eyes, and words, and countenance,
Does not my innocence reveal itself ?
I happy at thy cost ? O, how could Abel
Be happy if thou'rt not ? Ah, hadst thou seen me, When I awoke, and found thee not beside me
This morning ! Ah, how sorely did I weep!
And how our parents wept ! The livelong day Have I since then consumed, but fruitlessly,
In seeking thee and sadly calling thee,
But never finding thee ; although I heard
Thy voice in front of me from time to time,
In the far distance answering : and I
Went ever further on in search of thee,
Cain — Abel—
I'm so no more.
THE MURDER OF ABEL.
Up to yon river ; over whose broad waves
I feared that thou, who art a swimmer bold, Hadst crossed . . .
Cain — And of that river darest thou, Foolhardy one, a single word to speak ?
I well believe thou fearedst, if I crossed
That thou wouldst have forever lost the hope
Of crossing thyself. Thou darest, too,
To mingle truth and falsehood and assert That replied to thee But now the end
Of every wicked art has come in vain
Thou soughtest to anticipate my steps
Thou seest that have caught thee just in time Nor river, nor the light of heaven shalt thou E'er see again. I'll kill thee fall thou down
Abel-
Keep back thy ax do not strike me See,
fall before thee, and embrace thy knees.
Keep back thy ax, pray thee Hear thou me The sound of this my voice, in yonder fields,
Has soothed thee oftentimes, when much incensed, Now with the stubborn clods, now with the lambs, But thou wast ne'er so angry as thou'rt now.
Dear brother of my heart . .
But shall ever be so thou art too pledge to thee my innocence: swear
By both our parents have never heard One word about this river nor can fathom Thy accusations.
Cain — Can there be such malice, Such craftiness, at such tender age
All this dissembling makes me madder still Vile liar .
Abel— Cain —
Die now. Abel —
Cain — Abel—
What! thou call'st thy Abel, liar? Embrace me first.
hate thee.
Strike, thou wilt have so but have not deserved it.
Still love thee.
I'll not resist Cain —
—And yet, his weeping, and his juvenile
I
if
;I a
I! .
? :
I
I
:
!
;
.
?
? :
;
II I
I ;. it
it !
; :! :
it I
;
it,
I :O
THE MURDER OF ABEL.
Candor, which true appears, the sweet accustomed Sound of his voice, restrain me : and my arm
And anger fall. — But, shall a foolish pity
Rob me forever of my property ? . . .
Alas ! what to resolve ? what do ?
Abel — What say'st thou
Apart ? Turn towards me : look at me : in vain Thou hid'st from me thy face : amidst thy fierce And dreadful ravings, from thy moistened eye Gleamed there upon me just one passing ray
Of love fraternal and of pity. Take,
I pray thee, pity on my tender youth,
And on thyself. O ! dost thou think that God Can afterwards take pleasure in thy prayers,
Or gifts, if with the blood of thine own brother He sees thee dyed ? And then our excellent Unhappy mother, wouldst thou rob her thus
Of both her sons ? for, certainly, if thou Shouldst slay me, thou wouldst never dare again To show thyself before her. Ah, just think How that unhappy one can live without us : Think too . . .
Cain — Ah, brother ! thou dost rend my heart :
I pardon thee : in this
Embrace . . . What do I? and what said I? Base one,
Rise, then, arise :
Thy tears are but a juggle : and not doubtful Thy treason is ; thou dost not merit pardon ; I will not pardon thee.
Abel — What see I? Fiercer Dost thou become than ever ?
Cain — I become
What I should be to thee. Come now what may ; The good denied me, none shall have instead. — No more of pardon, no more pity ; thou
Hast now no brother, father, mother more.
My eye is dimmed already with thick blood :
I see a monster at my feet. Now, die !
What holds me back ? What seizes on my arm ? What voice is thundering ?
Abel — God sees us. Cain—
Methinks I hear Him : now methinks I Pursuing me in fearful wise : already
I see my own ensanguined ax fall down Upon my guilty head with crashing sound !
God? see Him,
THE MURDER OF ABEL. 47
Abel—His senses he has lost. Sad sight ! I tremble . . . From head to foot . . .
Cain — Thou, Abel, do thou take This ax ; and strike with both thy hands, upon My head. Why dost thou tarry ? now behold,
I offer no defense : be quick, and slay me :
Slay me ; for in no other way canst thou Escape my fury, which is fast returning : I pray thee then, make haste.
Abel — What do I hear ? That I should strike thee ? Why, if I still love thee As much as ever ? Calm thyself : become
Thyself again : let's both our father seek :
He waits for thee . . .
Cain —
Go now with thee ?
The mention of his name Fiercer than ever wakens all my rage.
Hast thou betrayed.
My father ? to my father I understand : thyself
Once more then, die thou, die. [Strikes him. Abel— Alas! . . . I feel
My strength depart . . . O mother ! . . .
Cain — What, O what
,j,
[Flies.
Have I now done ? his blood spurts o'er my face !
He falls ; he faints . . . Where hide myself ? 0 Heavens ! What have I done ? Accursed ax, begone
Forever from my hand, my eyes . . . What hear I ?
Alas ! already doth the thund'ring voice
Of God upon me call . . . O where to fly ?
There, raves my father in wild fury . . . Here,
My dying brother's sobs . . . Where hide myself ?
I fly.
Abel [dying], then Adam.
Ah dreadful pain ! . . . 0, how my blood
Is running down ! . . .
Adam — Already towards the west
The sun approaches fast, and I as yet
Have found them not ! The livelong day have I And Eve consumed in searching for them both, And all without success . . . But this is surely
The track of Abel : Abel —
Alas ! help, help ! . . . O mother ! . . . Adam —
[Advances.
O, what hear I
I will follow it
?
18
THE MURDER OF ABEL.
Sobs of a human being, like the wails
Of Abel! . . . Heavens ! what see Ithere ? a stream Ofblood? . . . Alas! abody furtheron? . . . Abel! My son, thou here? . . . Uponthy body Let me at least breathe forth my own last breath !
Abel —
My father's voice, methinks . . . O ! is it thou ? . . . My eyes are dim, and ill I see . . . Ah, tell me, ShallIagainbehold. . . my. . . darling mother? . . .
Adam —
My son ! . . . sad day ! . . . sad sight ! . . . How deep
and large
The wound with which his guiltless head is cloven !
Alas ! there is no remedy. My son,
Whogave thee suchablow? and whattheweapon? . . . O Heavens ! Is't not Cain's pickax that I see
Lying all-bloody there ? . . . O grief ! O madness !
And is it possible that Cain has slain thee ?
A brother kill his brother ?
Will arm, with thy own arms ; and find thee out,
And with my own hands slay thee. O thou just Almighty God, didst Thou behold this crime,
And suffer it ? breathes still the murderer ?
Where is the villain ? Didst not Thou, great God, Beneath the feet of such a monster cause
The very earth to gape and swallow him
In its profound abyss ? Then, 'tis Thy will,
Ah yes ! that by my hand should punished be
This crime irreparable : 'tis Thy will
That I should follow on the bloody track
Of that base villain : here it is : from me,
Thou wicked Cain, shalt thou receive thy death . . .
O God ! But leave my Abel breathing still . . .
Abel —
Father ! . . . return, return ! . . .
I fain would tell thee . . . Abel — He was . . . indeed . . .
Adam —
My son, but how could Cain . . .
. . . itwas not he . . . Moreover . . . He is thy son . . . O pardon him, . . . as I do . . .
Beside himself :
Adam —
Thou only art my son. Devotion true !
O Abel ! my own image ! thou, my all ! . . . How could that fierce . . .
Abel — Ah, father ! . . . tell me . . . truly ;
I
myself
THE MURDER OF ABEL.
Didst thou e'er plan . . . to take away . . . from Cain, . . . Andgive . . . tome . . . some mighty good, . . . whichlies Beyond . . . the river ?
Adam — What dost mean ? one son Alone I deemed that I possessed in both.
Abel—
Deceived. . . wasCainthen;. . . thishesaidtome. . . Ofttimes, . . . inflamed with rage . . . The only cause . .
. . .
What dreadful flame has now succeeded it !
I follow thee, for fear that villain Abel
Should first arrive there.
Cain and Abel [turning towards the river]. Abel — Cain! what is't I see? Cain [running towards him with his pickax] —
Ah, traitor ! dost thou come from there ? I soon
Will punish thee. —
Abel [flying backwards] Help, mother, help me, help ! Cain [following him, and disappearing from view] —
Fly as thou mayst, I'll overtake thee soon.
Ah, Ipray thee, stay . . .
Cain, Abel.
Cain —
Come, villain, come ! [Dragging him by the hair.
Abel —
What have I
Cain —
Thy final vital breath.
Abel — Ah, hear thou me !
O my dear brother, pity ! done ? . . .
Come ! far away indeed From that much-longed-for river shalt thou breathe
My brother, do thou hearken !
Cain — No, that good
Which was my due, but which I ne'er received, Shall ne'er be thine. Perfidious one, behold, Around thee look ; this is the desert waste,
From which I fled, and where thou leftest me : Thy last looks never shall behold those waters Which thou, in thy disloyal thoughts, didst deem As crossed already : here, upon this sand,
Thou soon shalt lie a corpse.
Abel— But, O my God!
What means all this ? at least explain thy words : I understand thee not : explain, and hear me ; Thou afterwards mayst slay me at thy will,
But hear me first, I pray.
Cain — Say on.
Abel — But tell me,
Inwhat have Ioffended thee ? . . . Alas!
THE MURDER OF ABEL.
How can I speak to thee, if fierce and stern
Thou standest o'er me ? neck and nostrils swollen; Looks full of fire and blood ; thy lips, thy face All livid ; whilst thy knees, thine arms, thy head Are moved convulsively by trembling strange ! — Pity, my brother : calm thyself : and loosen
Thy hold upon my hair a little, so
That I may breathe.
Cain — I never fancied, Abel, That thou wouldst be a traitor.
Abel — I am not. My father knows it; and thou too.
Cain — My father ? Ne'er name him : father of us both alike,
And just, I deemed him, and I was deceived.
Abel —
What sayest thou ? Dost doubt his love ? thou scarce Hadst gone away from us this morning, when, Anxious for thee, with mortal sorrow filled,
My father straightway sent me on thy track . . .
Cain —
Perfidious ones,
I know it all ; to me This was a horrible, undoubted proof
Of my bad brother and my still worse father. I know it all ; the veil has fallen ; the secret Has been revealed to me : and I'm resolved That thou shalt ne'er be happy at my cost.
Abel —
Cain, by that God who both of us created,
And who maintains us, I entreat of thee,
Explain thyself : what is my fault ? what secret Has been revealed to thee ? upon my face,
And in my eyes, and words, and countenance,
Does not my innocence reveal itself ?
I happy at thy cost ? O, how could Abel
Be happy if thou'rt not ? Ah, hadst thou seen me, When I awoke, and found thee not beside me
This morning ! Ah, how sorely did I weep!
And how our parents wept ! The livelong day Have I since then consumed, but fruitlessly,
In seeking thee and sadly calling thee,
But never finding thee ; although I heard
Thy voice in front of me from time to time,
In the far distance answering : and I
Went ever further on in search of thee,
Cain — Abel—
I'm so no more.
THE MURDER OF ABEL.
Up to yon river ; over whose broad waves
I feared that thou, who art a swimmer bold, Hadst crossed . . .
Cain — And of that river darest thou, Foolhardy one, a single word to speak ?
I well believe thou fearedst, if I crossed
That thou wouldst have forever lost the hope
Of crossing thyself. Thou darest, too,
To mingle truth and falsehood and assert That replied to thee But now the end
Of every wicked art has come in vain
Thou soughtest to anticipate my steps
Thou seest that have caught thee just in time Nor river, nor the light of heaven shalt thou E'er see again. I'll kill thee fall thou down
Abel-
Keep back thy ax do not strike me See,
fall before thee, and embrace thy knees.
Keep back thy ax, pray thee Hear thou me The sound of this my voice, in yonder fields,
Has soothed thee oftentimes, when much incensed, Now with the stubborn clods, now with the lambs, But thou wast ne'er so angry as thou'rt now.
Dear brother of my heart . .
But shall ever be so thou art too pledge to thee my innocence: swear
By both our parents have never heard One word about this river nor can fathom Thy accusations.
Cain — Can there be such malice, Such craftiness, at such tender age
All this dissembling makes me madder still Vile liar .
Abel— Cain —
Die now. Abel —
Cain — Abel—
What! thou call'st thy Abel, liar? Embrace me first.
hate thee.
Strike, thou wilt have so but have not deserved it.
Still love thee.
I'll not resist Cain —
—And yet, his weeping, and his juvenile
I
if
;I a
I! .
? :
I
I
:
!
;
.
?
? :
;
II I
I ;. it
it !
; :! :
it I
;
it,
I :O
THE MURDER OF ABEL.
Candor, which true appears, the sweet accustomed Sound of his voice, restrain me : and my arm
And anger fall. — But, shall a foolish pity
Rob me forever of my property ? . . .
Alas ! what to resolve ? what do ?
Abel — What say'st thou
Apart ? Turn towards me : look at me : in vain Thou hid'st from me thy face : amidst thy fierce And dreadful ravings, from thy moistened eye Gleamed there upon me just one passing ray
Of love fraternal and of pity. Take,
I pray thee, pity on my tender youth,
And on thyself. O ! dost thou think that God Can afterwards take pleasure in thy prayers,
Or gifts, if with the blood of thine own brother He sees thee dyed ? And then our excellent Unhappy mother, wouldst thou rob her thus
Of both her sons ? for, certainly, if thou Shouldst slay me, thou wouldst never dare again To show thyself before her. Ah, just think How that unhappy one can live without us : Think too . . .
Cain — Ah, brother ! thou dost rend my heart :
I pardon thee : in this
Embrace . . . What do I? and what said I? Base one,
Rise, then, arise :
Thy tears are but a juggle : and not doubtful Thy treason is ; thou dost not merit pardon ; I will not pardon thee.
Abel — What see I? Fiercer Dost thou become than ever ?
Cain — I become
What I should be to thee. Come now what may ; The good denied me, none shall have instead. — No more of pardon, no more pity ; thou
Hast now no brother, father, mother more.
My eye is dimmed already with thick blood :
I see a monster at my feet. Now, die !
What holds me back ? What seizes on my arm ? What voice is thundering ?
Abel — God sees us. Cain—
Methinks I hear Him : now methinks I Pursuing me in fearful wise : already
I see my own ensanguined ax fall down Upon my guilty head with crashing sound !
God? see Him,
THE MURDER OF ABEL. 47
Abel—His senses he has lost. Sad sight ! I tremble . . . From head to foot . . .
Cain — Thou, Abel, do thou take This ax ; and strike with both thy hands, upon My head. Why dost thou tarry ? now behold,
I offer no defense : be quick, and slay me :
Slay me ; for in no other way canst thou Escape my fury, which is fast returning : I pray thee then, make haste.
Abel — What do I hear ? That I should strike thee ? Why, if I still love thee As much as ever ? Calm thyself : become
Thyself again : let's both our father seek :
He waits for thee . . .
Cain —
Go now with thee ?
The mention of his name Fiercer than ever wakens all my rage.
Hast thou betrayed.
My father ? to my father I understand : thyself
Once more then, die thou, die. [Strikes him. Abel— Alas! . . . I feel
My strength depart . . . O mother ! . . .
Cain — What, O what
,j,
[Flies.
Have I now done ? his blood spurts o'er my face !
He falls ; he faints . . . Where hide myself ? 0 Heavens ! What have I done ? Accursed ax, begone
Forever from my hand, my eyes . . . What hear I ?
Alas ! already doth the thund'ring voice
Of God upon me call . . . O where to fly ?
There, raves my father in wild fury . . . Here,
My dying brother's sobs . . . Where hide myself ?
I fly.
Abel [dying], then Adam.
Ah dreadful pain ! . . . 0, how my blood
Is running down ! . . .
Adam — Already towards the west
The sun approaches fast, and I as yet
Have found them not ! The livelong day have I And Eve consumed in searching for them both, And all without success . . . But this is surely
The track of Abel : Abel —
Alas ! help, help ! . . . O mother ! . . . Adam —
[Advances.
O, what hear I
I will follow it
?
18
THE MURDER OF ABEL.
Sobs of a human being, like the wails
Of Abel! . . . Heavens ! what see Ithere ? a stream Ofblood? . . . Alas! abody furtheron? . . . Abel! My son, thou here? . . . Uponthy body Let me at least breathe forth my own last breath !
Abel —
My father's voice, methinks . . . O ! is it thou ? . . . My eyes are dim, and ill I see . . . Ah, tell me, ShallIagainbehold. . . my. . . darling mother? . . .
Adam —
My son ! . . . sad day ! . . . sad sight ! . . . How deep
and large
The wound with which his guiltless head is cloven !
Alas ! there is no remedy. My son,
Whogave thee suchablow? and whattheweapon? . . . O Heavens ! Is't not Cain's pickax that I see
Lying all-bloody there ? . . . O grief ! O madness !
And is it possible that Cain has slain thee ?
A brother kill his brother ?
Will arm, with thy own arms ; and find thee out,
And with my own hands slay thee. O thou just Almighty God, didst Thou behold this crime,
And suffer it ? breathes still the murderer ?
Where is the villain ? Didst not Thou, great God, Beneath the feet of such a monster cause
The very earth to gape and swallow him
In its profound abyss ? Then, 'tis Thy will,
Ah yes ! that by my hand should punished be
This crime irreparable : 'tis Thy will
That I should follow on the bloody track
Of that base villain : here it is : from me,
Thou wicked Cain, shalt thou receive thy death . . .
O God ! But leave my Abel breathing still . . .
Abel —
Father ! . . . return, return ! . . .
I fain would tell thee . . . Abel — He was . . . indeed . . .
Adam —
My son, but how could Cain . . .
. . . itwas not he . . . Moreover . . . He is thy son . . . O pardon him, . . . as I do . . .
Beside himself :
Adam —
Thou only art my son. Devotion true !
O Abel ! my own image ! thou, my all ! . . . How could that fierce . . .
Abel — Ah, father ! . . . tell me . . . truly ;
I
myself
THE MURDER OF ABEL.
Didst thou e'er plan . . . to take away . . . from Cain, . . . Andgive . . . tome . . . some mighty good, . . . whichlies Beyond . . . the river ?
Adam — What dost mean ? one son Alone I deemed that I possessed in both.
Abel—
Deceived. . . wasCainthen;. . . thishesaidtome. . . Ofttimes, . . . inflamed with rage . . . The only cause . .
. . .
