They drove us out. Drove us out into this harsh wilderness, and shut
the gates against us. We that had meant no harm. It is three months.
We were ignorant then; we are rich in learning, now--ah, how rich!
We know hunger, thirst, and cold; we know pain, disease, and grief;
we know hate, rebellion, and deceit; we know remorse, the conscience
that prosecutes guilt and innocence alike, making no distinction; we
know weariness of body and spirit, the unrefreshing sleep, the rest
which rests not, the dreams which restore Eden, and banish it again
with the waking; we know misery; we know torture and the heartbreak;
we know humiliation and insult; we know indecency, immodesty, and
the soiled mind; we know the scorn that attaches to the transmitted
image of God exposed unclothed to the day; we know fear; we know
vanity, folly, envy, hypocrisy; we know irreverence; we know
blasphemy; we know right from wrong, and how to avoid the one and do
the other; we know all the rich product of the Moral Sense, and it
is our possession. Would we could sell it for one hour of Eden and
white purity; would we could degrade the animals with it!
We have it all--that treasure. All but death. Death.... Death. What
may that be?
Adam comes.
“Well?”
“He still sleeps.”
That is our second-born--our Abel.
“He has slept enough for his good, and his garden suffers for his
care. Wake him.”
“I have tried and cannot.”
“Then he is very tired. Let him sleep on.”
“I think it is his hurt that makes him sleep so long.”
I answer: “It may be so. Then we will let him rest; no doubt the
sleep is healing it.”
II
It is a day and a night, now, that he has slept. We found him by his
altar in his field, that morning, his face and body drenched in
blood. He said his eldest brother struck him down. Then he spoke no
more and fell asleep. We laid him in his bed and washed the blood
away, and were glad to know the hurt was light and that he had no
pain; for if he had had pain he would not have slept.
It was in the early morning that we found him. All day he slept that
sweet, reposeful sleep, lying always on his back, and never moving,
never turning. It showed how tired he was, poor thing. He is so good
and works so hard, rising with the dawn and laboring till the dark.
And now he is overworked; it will be best that he tax himself less,
after this, and I will ask him; he will do anything I wish.
All the day he slept. I know, for I was always near, and made dishes
for him and kept them warm against his waking. Often I crept in and
fed my eyes upon his gentle face, and was thankful for that blessed
sleep. And still he slept on--slept with his eyes wide; a strange
thing, and made me think he was awake at first, but it was not so,
for I spoke and he did not answer. He always answers when I speak.
Cain has moods and will not answer, but not Abel.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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