ZARCA.
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ou paint us well.So abject are the men whose blood we share ;Untutored, unbefriended, unendowed ;No favorites of heaven or of men.Therefore I cling to them! Therefore no lureShall draw me to disown them, or forsakeThe meagre wandering herd that lows for helpAnd needs me for its guide, to seek my pastureAmong the well-fed beeves that graze at will.Because our race have no great memories,I will so live they shall remember meFor deeds of such divine beneficenceAs rivers have, that teach men what is goodBy blessing them. I have been schooled, — have caughtLore from the Hebrew, deftness from the Moor, —Know the rich heritage, the milder life,Of nations fathered by a mighty Past;But were our race accursed (as they who makeGood luck a god count all unlucky men)I would espouse their curse sooner than takeMy gifts from brethren naked of all good,And lend them to the rich for usury. (FEDALMA again advances, and putting forth herright hand grasps Zarca’s left. He places hisother hand on her shoulder. They stand so,looking at each other.) ZARCA.And you, my child? are you of other mind,Choosing forgetfulness, hating the truthThat says you are akin to needy men ? —
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