Cain. He was so good, his brother hated him,
And slew him for’t. Go on, my mother, on.
Eve. ...
For there are rites and holy means of grace
Of God ordained for man’s eternal [weal].
With these, my son, address thyself to Him,
And seek atonement from a gracious God,
With whom is balm for every wounded heart.
Cain. I ask not for atonement, mother mine;
I ask but one thing—never to forget.