"Brother, I fear I cannot," Rachel said; "But loyally I will try. When Stephen stood To answer thee that day, a power not he Oppressed my spirit with a sense of weight, Gentle but insupportable, which grew Instantly greater and greater, until it seemed Ready to crush, unless I yielded; Saul, I yielded, and that weight became as might Which passed to underneath me and upbore." "Rachel, be simpler," Saul severely said; "My soul refuses to be teased with words. Meanest thou this, that Stephen mastered thee?" "Nay, Saul, my brother," meekly Rachel said, Meekly and firmly; "Stephen not, but God. No man could master me away from Saul. Proudly I was thy vassal sister, Saul, Until God summoned me with voice that I Might not resist; God's vassal am I now, But sister still to thee, and loyal, Saul, Beyond all measure of that loyalty I held before, which made me proud of thee, And glad of thee, and spurred me on to praise My brother as the paragon of men. O Saul--" "Nay, Rachel," Saul said, with a tone Repressive more than the repressive words, "I will not hear thee further in this vein. Thou art a woman, and I must not blame Thy weakness; sister too to me thou art, And I will not misdoubt thy love; but thou Hast added the last drop of bitterness To the crowned cup of grief and shame poured out For me to drink. Go, Rachel, muse on this: A brother leaned an aching, aching heart Upon a sister's bosom to be eased, And that one pillow out of all the world To me, that trusted downy softness, hid The cruelest subtle unsuspected thorn. Saul's sister a disciple and a dupe Of those that preach the son of Joseph, Christ! And this, forsooth, the fruit that was to be Of Saul's aspiring trust to strike the stroke That in one day should crush the wretched creed! Rachel, methinks thou mightst have spared me this! But nay, my sister, better is it so. Haply no barb less keen had stung me back To my old self and made me Saul again-- The weakling that I was, to pule and weep, As if the cause were lost and all were lost! I thank thee, sister, thou hast done me good, Like medicine--like bitter medicine! Tell me true, Rachel, thou didst feign me this, To rouse me from my late unmanly swoon. That is past now; I rise refreshed and strong, I see my path before me, stretching straight, I enter it to tread it to the end. Doubt not but I shall feel the wholesome hurt Of the shrewd spur my sister, with wise heart Of hardness, plunged full deep into my side Betimes, when I was drooping nigh to sink. Peace to thee, sister, cheer thee with this thought, 'I saved my brother from the last disgrace By a disgrace next to the last--it was A hard way, but the only, and it sped!'"