Take them! If thou must be induced with | Still yearn for their dead offspring? or the altars, And soften'd with a sacrifice, receive them! If Thou lov'st blood, the shepherd's shrine, which smokes On my right hand, hath shed it for Thy service In the first of his flock, whose limbs now reek In sanguinary incense to Thy skies; Or if the sweet and blooming fruits of earth, And milder seasons, which the unstain'd turf I spread them on now offers in the face Of the broad sun which ripen'd them, may seem Good to Thee, inasmuch as they have not Which must be won by kneeling: if he's evil, all Rests upon Thee, and good and evil seem To have no power themselves, save in Thy will; And whether that be good or ill I know not, Not being omnipotent, nor fit to judge Omnipotence, but merely to endure Its mandate; which thus far I have endured. [The fire upon the altar of ABEL kindles into a column of the brightest flame, and ascends to heaven; while a whirlwind throws down the altar of CAIN, and scatters the fruits abroad upon the earth. Abel [kneeling]. Oh, brother, pray! Jehovah's wroth with thee. Cain. Why so? Abel. Thy fruits are scatter'd on the earth. Cain. From earth they came, to earth let them return; Their seed will bear fresh fruit there ere the summer: Thy burnt flesh-offering prospers better; see How heaven licks up the flames, when thick with blood! Abel. Think not upon my offering's accept ance, But make another of thine own before Cain. The smoky harbinger of thy dull prayers-- Cain. His! His pleasure! what was His high pleasure in The fumes of scorching flesh and smoking blood, To the pain of the bleating mothers, which pangs The earth swims round me: what is this?-'tis | And black with smoke, and red with wet; [Puts his hand to his brow, and then looks at it. My brother's and my own! and shed by me! Enter ZILLAH. Zillah. I heard a heavy sound; what can it be? 'Tis Cain; and watching by my husband. What Dost thou there, brother? Doth he sleep? Oh, heaven! Adam. 339 Speak, my son! Speak, and assure us, wretched as we are, I see it now he hangs his guilty head, Eve. Hold! Curse him not, mother, for he is thy sonAnd my betroth'd. Curse him not, mother, for he is my brother, Zillah no husband-me no son !—for thus He hath left thee no brotherI curse him from my sight for evermore! What means this paleness, and yon stream?—That of his nature, in All bonds I break between us! as he broke yon- -O death! death! Why didst thou not take me, who first incurr'd Why dost thou not so now? No, no! It is not blood; for who would shed his blood? moves not; He breathes not: and his hands drop down from mine With stony lifelessness! Ah! cruel Cain ! Between him and aggression ! Father!- Adah!-come hither! Death is in the world! [Exit ZILLAH, calling on her parents, &c. Cain [solus]. And who hath brought him there?-I-who abhor The name of Death so deeply, that the thought my aid. thee? Adam. Eve! let not this, Thy natural grief, lead to impiety! A heavy doom was long forespoken to us; of yon incarnate spirit Earth's fruits be ashes in his mouth-the leaves Add thy deep curse to Eve's upon his head! Zillah. I must watch my husband's corse. Who hath provided for us this dread office. Zillah. [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, Leave me ! To dwell with one who hath done this! I fear I must not speak of this-it is between thee A Voice from within exclaims, Cain! Cain ! The fratricide might well engender parricides.- Wouldst thou with me? To mark upon thy brow [The ANGEL sets the mark on CAIN's brow. Angel. Stern hast thou been and stubborn As the ground thou must henceforth till ; but he For life, nor did I make myself; but could I Angel. Who shall heal murder? what is done Go forth! fulfil thy days! and be thy deeds It soundeth like an angel's tone. 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! Now art thou Cursed from the earth, which open'd late her To drink thy brother's blood from thy rash hand. shall not Yield thee her strength: a fugitive shalt thou Adah. This punishment is more than he can Behold, thou driv'st him from the face of earth, Cain. Would they could! but who are they Shall slay me? Where are these on the lone earth As yet unpeopled? Did not the milk of Eve give nutriment now art I know not; but if thou seest what I am, The same breast, clasp'd thee often to my own, For me-compose thy limbs into their grave- The four rivers of Eden-Pison, Gihon, Hiddekel, and Euphrates.-GEN. ii. 11-14 For all the fruits thou hast render'd to me, I Adah. A dreary and an early doom, my Has been thy lot! Of all who mourn for thee, Cain. Eastward from Eden will we take our way: THE ILLUSTRIOUS GOETHE, BY ONE OF HIS HUMBLEST ADMIRERS, THIS TRAGEDY IS DEDICATED. PREFACE. THE following drama is taken entirely from the "German's Tale, Kruitzner," published many years ago in Lee's Canterbury Tales," written (I believe) by two sisters, of whom one furnished only this story and another, both of which are considered superior to the remainder of the collection. I have adopted the characters, plan, and even the language of many parts of this story. Some of the characters are modified or altered, a few of the names changed, and one character (Ida of Stralenheim) added by myself; but in the rest the original is chiefly followed. When I was young (about fourteen, I think) I first read this tale, which made a deep impression upon me; and may, indeed, be said to contain the germ of much that I have since written. I am not sure that it ever was very popular; or, at any rate, its popularity has since been eclipsed by that of other great writers in the same department. But I have generally found that those who had read it, agreed with me in their estimate of the singular power of mind and conception which it develops. I should also add conception, rather than execution; for the story might, perhaps, have been developed with greater advantage. Amongst those whose opinions agreed with mine upon this story, I could mention some very high names: but it is not necessary, nor indeed of any use; for every one must judge according to his own feelings. I merely refer the reader to the original story, that he may see to what extent I have borrowed from it; and am not unwilling that he should find much greater pleasure in perusing it than the drama which is founded upon its contents. I had begun a drama upon this tale so far back as 1815 (the first I ever attempted, except one at thirteen years old, called "Ulric and Ilvina," which I had sense enough to burn), and had nearly completed an act, when I was interrupted by circumstances. This is somewhere amongst my papers in England; but as it has not been found, I have re-written the first, and added the subsequent acts. The whole is neither intended, nor in any shape adapted, for the stage. PISA, February 1822. SCENE.-Partly on the frontier of Silesia, and partly in Siegendorf Castle, near Prague. TIME.-The Close of the Thirty Years' War. ACT I. SCENE I.-The Hall of a decayed Palace near WERNER and JOSEPHINE, his Wife. To me Yes, but not to thyself: thy pace is hurried, With steps like thine when his heart is at rest. Wer. 'Tis chill; the tapestry lets through |