Page:Poems of Emma Lazarus vol 1.djvu/358

Rh What, but the sure hope of this fierce, glad hoar, That I might track thee down to this — might see Thy tortured body writhe beneath my feet, And blast thy stricken spirit with my curse ?

MABIA (in a crushed voice).

Have mercy ! mercy !

RIBERA.

Yes, I will have mercy— The mercy of the tiger or the wolf, Athirst for blood.

MABTA (terror-struck, rises upon her knees in an attitude of stgaplication* Ribeba averts his face).

Oh, father, kill me not ! Turn not away — I am not changed for thee ! In God's name, look at me — thy child, thine own! Spare me, oh, spare me, till I win of Heaven Some sign of promise ! I am lost forever If I die now.

BIBEBA {looks at her in silence, then pushing her from him laughs bitterly).

Nay, have no fear of me. I would not do thee that much grace to ease thee Of the gross burden of the flesh. Behold, Thou shalt be cursed with weary length of days ; And when thou seek'st to purge thy guilty heart,