I
have wept for them, although no tear of selfish grief has tinged this
withered cheek. And, were I but alone, ay! there's the pang. The solace
of my days is now my sorrow.'
'Weep not for me, dear uncle. Rather let us pray that our God will not
forsake us.'
'We know not when we are well. Our hours stole tranquilly along, and
then we murmured. Prospering, we murmured, and now we are rightly
stricken. The legend of the past is Israel's bane. The past is a dream;
and, in the waking present, we should discard the enervating shadow. Why
should we be free? We murmured against captivity. This _is_ captivity:
this damp, dim cell, where we are brought to die.
'O! youth, rash youth, thy being is destruction. But yesterday a child,
it seems but yesterday I nursed him in these arms, a thoughtless child,
and now our house has fallen by his deeds. I will not think of it;
'twill make me mad.'
'Uncle, dearest uncle, we have lived together, and we will die together,
and both in love; but, I pray you, speak no harsh word of David.'
'Shall I praise him?'
'Say nothing. What he has done, if done in grief, has been done all in
honour. Would you that he had spared Alschiroch?'
'Never! I would have struck him myself.
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