"He died, and I was younger than he, but stronger, and more like my
father. I was put in his place, and was called by his name. I grew up
proud of what I thought my aristocratic birth! I resolved to become the
most famous of mankind, and I found an angel and was going to marry her.
But the evil began to come with the good: it began long ago, and in many
ways, and I tried to overcome it, or provide against it, one way or
another. You benevolent people had led me into a battle-field, unarmed,
and then left me to fight my way through; and I should have done it,
too, but at the last I had myself to fight against, and then _I_ gave
in. Why, _I_ had been dead and buried more than twenty years--why don't
you laugh at that?--and had been imposed upon all that time by this
miserable nameless outcast, myself! whose father's name was Adultery and
his mother's Sin. That was a parentage to be proud of, wasn't it? And
yet, I swear before God, I'm better contented it should be so, than to
be the son of an honest marriage, with such a woman as you for my
mother."
As he loosened the hold of one hand, to emphasize this oath, the
senseless body, which he had been upholding, swung round, and swayed,
toward the floor. He dropped the arm which remained in his grasp, and
the red flush on his cheek and forehead died away into pallor, as he
looked down at the dark heap of clothes lying at his feet.
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