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,
