large/10730/children_of_the_night_1604_librivox_64kb_mp3/childrenofthenight_49_robinson_64kb_38
large/10730/children_of_the_night_1604_librivox_64kb_mp3/childrenofthenight_49_robinson_64kb
English
10730
Hear me, And learn from my lips the truth of my story. There's nothing strange in what I shall tell you, Nothing mysterious, nothing unearthly,    But damnably human,    and you shall hear it. HEAR ME AND LEARN FROM MY LIPS THE TRUTH OF MY STORY THERE'S NOTHING STRANGE IN WHAT I SHOULD TELL YOU NOTHING MYSTERIOUS NOTHING UNEARTHLY BUT DAMNABLY HUMAN AND YOU SHALL HEAR IT
 but hell-scars? Or is it because there is something better -- A glimmer of good, maybe -- or a shadow Of something that's followed me down from childhood -- Followed me all these years and kept me, Spite of my slips and sins and follies, Spite of my last red sin, my murder, -- Just out of hell? Yes? something of that kind? And you smile for that? You're a good man, Dominie, The one good man in the world who knows me, -- My one good friend in a world that mocks me, Here in this hard stone cage. But I leave it To-morrow. To-morrow! My God! am I crying? Are these things tears? Tears! What! am I frightened? I, who swore I should go to the scaffold With big strong steps, and -- No more. I thank you, But no -- I am all right now! No! -- listen! I am here to be hanged; to be hanged to-morrow At six o'clock, when the sun is rising. And why am I here? Not a soul can tell you But this poor shivering thing before you, This fluttering wreck of the man God made him, For God knows what wild reason.  FACE OF MINE WAS A BRUTE'S CONFESSION NOTHING BUT SIN THERE NOTHING BUT HELL SCARS OR IS IT BECAUSE THERE IS SOMETHING BETTER A GLIMMER OF GOOD MAYBE OR SHADOW OF SOMETHING THAT FOLLOWED ME DOWN FROM CHILDHOOD FOLLOWED ME ALL THESE YEARS AND KEPT ME SPITE OF MY SLIPS AND SINS AND FOLLIES SPITE OF MY LAST RED SIN MY MURDER JUST OUT OF HELL YES SOMETHING OF THAT KIND AND YOU SMILE FOR THAT YOUR GOOD MAN DOMINIE THE ONE GOOD MAN IN THE WORLD WHO KNOWS ME MY ONE GOOD FRIEND IN THE WORLD THAT MOCKS ME HERE IN THIS HARD STONE CAGE BUT I LEAVE IT TO MORROW TO MORROW MY GOD AND MY CRYING ARE THESE THINGS TEARS TEARS WHAT AM I FRIGHTENED I WHO SWORE I SHOULD GO TO THE SCAFFOLD WITH BIG STRONG STEPS AND NO MORE I THANK YOU BUT NO I AM ALL RIGHT NOW NO LISTEN I'M HERE TO BE HANGED TO BE HANGED TO MORROW AT SIX O'CLOCK WHEN THE SUN IS RISING AND WHY AM I HERE NOT A SOUL CAN TELL YOU BUT THIS POOR SHIVERING THING BEFORE YOU THIS FLUTTERING WRECK OF A MAN GOD MADE HIM FOR GOD KNOWS WHAT WILD REASON
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