No More Learning

_Cain_. And how knew _he_, that _I_ would be so ready
With the burnt offerings, which he daily brings 100
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,[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 snatched him in his sleep, and dashed 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. 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_.