University of Virginia Library

SCENE VII.

Adam, Seth, The Angel of Death.
Adam.
A little while,
And these fond eyes shall ne'er behold her more.
Thou know'st not what I feel, my son; how sorely
This deep affliction tugs at my heart-strings.
She too, my Selima, that lovely flow'r,
Just in its spring of days, shall wither,
Reft of its bloom, and tumble into dust.
Not she alone;—her children's children too
Shall all return to dust like her. Thou know'st,
And best of all my sons, hast comprehended,
The things I told thee following my creation.
Then, then I died; and all my race of children,
To latest time, shall after me die also.
—I shake with horror.—O grief tormenting!
Distracting thought! which presses down my heart
Like a vast rock. Go, go, my son, and kindly
Pour comfort's balm on thy afflicted sister.
For me, near Abel's altar will I dig
The grave shall hold my frail mortality.

Seth.
No, no, my sire, I will not, cannot, leave thee;
Thou shalt not dig thy grave; in his great name
Who rules omnipotent, I do conjure thee,
O my dear father, dig not thy own grave.

Adam.
Here Abel rests, and I will rest with him.
Or had you rather, son, behold this body
Corruption's prey, and crumbling into worms
Before your eyes.

Seth.
O most tremendous God!
To what dire proofs hast thou reserv'd us!

Adam.
Now, now,—horror, affright, stalk from their thrones,
And compass me on all sides; I cannot
Look upon thee, son; my eyes turn backward;
And,—O heav'n! what dire convulsive shock
Shakes all my bones and nerves together! O day
Of darkness, day of horror! hear'st thou, son,
The rocks from all their deep foundations tremble.
—Hither he bends his way;—tow'rds us he strides;—
Thou hear'st him;—hark!—the hill which near the bow'r
Rises aloft, shakes terrible:—already
Th'angel of death hath stopt:—thou seest him, son;
Dost thou not, child?

[The stage is darken'd.
Seth.
Encompass'd all around,
With gloomy horrors and the shades of night,
I nought perceive; but listen all attention.

Adam.
Hear me then; hear the dreadful angel.
—Minister of terrors, I perceive thee now.
Angel of death, exterminating angel,
Behold me here.

Angel of Death.
O man, of earth created,
Hear thy Creator's will: before the sun
Shall to the forest of the cedars slope
His course declining, “Thou shalt die the death.”
The death which waits thy race, shall sometimes fall
Like sleep upon them; sometimes be agony
Distorting: for thee, thou shalt die the death.
At that last moment, thou shalt surely know
My near approach; o'er these same rocks my steps
Shall thunder; I will shake them horrible
To their foundations deep; thy faculties
Of sight shall all be daz'd.—Thou shalt see nought,
But the huge rock's convulsive shake, a noise,
Like thunder's crash, shall burst upon thy ear,
Ere the sun reach the forest of the cedars.

[Angel disappears.
Adam.
O dreadful angel! tell th'eternal judge,
My great Creator, I adore his laws,
And all submissive to his holy will,
In duteous awe await my final doom.
But oh conjure him, for his mercy's sake,
To spare me in this agony.

Seth.
O my father!
I will die with thee; wherefore should we part?
O whither goest thou?

Adam.
To adore my God.