Awake!—why liest thou so long on the green earth?
'Tis not the hour of slumber:—why so pale?
What hast thou!—thou wert full of life this morn!
Abel! I pray thee, mock me not! I smote
Too fiercely, but not fatally. Ah, why
Wouldst thou oppose me? This is mockery;
And only done to daunt me:—'twas a blow—330
And but a blow. Stir—stir—nay, only stir!
Why, so—that's well!—thou breathest! breathe upon me!
Oh God! Oh God!