University of Virginia Library

“Never!” the maid exclaimed,—a roseate tinge,
As from red sunbeam, flashing o'er her face:
“Never!” again she said, in deeper tone,
More mild, yet speaking strength invincible:
And, toward him lightly stepping, by the hand
Took the pale trembling youth; and in his face
Poured infinite love. With look, then, all serene,
Unknowing shame,—she turned; and to the king
Gently, yet firmly spake.

“From childhood up,
O Pharaoh, to each other dedicate,
By parents, and by friends, and our own love,
Have we been held. There is not on the earth,
Save Reuben, one to whom I would be wed:
Nor maiden is there, whatsoe'er her state,
Her beauty, or her wealth, whom, leaving me,
Would he espouse; for, on our souls 'tis fixed,
That, by especial ordinance of God,
We twain shall one become.”

As, in the gloom
Of sultry summer-night, along the verge
Of the horizon dark-red lightning runs,
A moment seen, and gone; so, from the orbs
Of the dread Phantom-king,—when that sweet voice
Opposal resolute spake,—one fiery glance
Quivered, and died. But, all eyes bent on her,
Hers upon Reuben turned,—the meteor blazed
Unnoted; and, for that hot gleam, a look
Of gentle love commanding,—with mild voice,
The Pharaoh thus resumed.

“Thou didst forget,
Fair maiden, that I silence craved from all,
Till my whole speech should end. Unto the last,
I pray thee once again to lend thine ear,
And understanding; but lock up thy tongue:
For, in poor ignorance thou refusest now,
What, with full knowledge, thou may haste to take.
Think not that, for light reason, I would ask
Maiden to loose a knot of virtuous love:
Or that, for sacrifice made by thee, and him,
Thy long-betroth'd, I would not recompense give,
Worthy a king,—ay, greater far than king
Through the whole earth beside: beyond compare
More rich than what 'twould pay for. Take thou thought,
Blest Rachel; Reuben thou, and all the rest,
Take thought of this,—that, what he stoops to beg;
Nay, at large cost would purchase,—with strong hand,
Defiant of all earth, the king might take;
And, as he would, dispose of. When he prays,
Think, then, he might command, if love ruled not,
And justice, more than passion; and so frame
Your dispositions, that his generous thoughts,
With generous you may meet. Such harmony
In good to all must end. With few words now,
My whole desire will I lay bare to you:
Make plain all good that ye have power to do,
And all the evil: all the tenfold good,
Thousandfold evil, that upon yourselves,
Power have ye to call down, as, to the right,
Or to the wrong, ye go.

“The sun shines not
To one man only: beauty cannot shine,
By one man only seen, admired, and loved.
Maiden, my son, the heir to Egypt's throne,
Like a poor fly to the flame, too near hath come
To thy soul-scorching beauty; and been burned,
Till sense, nay life, is perilled. Kohath, thou
A father art; and, for a father's pangs,
Feeling must have. Even like to one possessed,
Is my loved Sethos; body, fever-fired;
Mind, wandering; voice, still calling upon her,
Thy matchless daughter; who, though seen but twice,
Deep in his soul is buried; no more thence
To be withdrawn, than might a buried sword,
Deep broken in his body. Sobbing, now,
As if his heart would burst; now, groaning loud,
As in death-agony; with folded hands,
Now, crying out to her imploringly,
As to a very goddess,—down his cheeks
Tears running like two brooks,—Oh! it is sad,
Sad, piteous, even for stranger, to behold
A tree so glorious beaten to the ground,
Withering, and dying: for a father, then,—
Oh Kohath, oh blest Rachel, Reuben too,
What for a father is it!

“Ere distraught,
He had his story told: how once, by chance,
He had beheld a being, goddess-bright;
Had watched her to her home: how, afterward,
By the young Syrian prince and princess led,
That temple pure he had again beheld;
And, therein, the shrined deity; the bright star
Which, thenceforth, made his heaven! and he implored,—
As I would have him live, and reason hold,—
That he might wed her. But, when he confessed
That she a Hebrew was, indignantly
Did I rebuke him; for that public law,
As well he knew, such marriage had forbid.
Alas! I now repent me that so stern
Was my forbiddance; for, as though quick death
Had smitten him, he sank; and all the day
Corpse-like lay stretched: till, evening coming on,
Flame-faced, and frenzy-eyed, he started up,
A yelling madman: from the palace flew,
To plunge in Nile; or headlong fling himself
In pit, or well; or howsoever else
He might end life and misery,—for even so
Out cried he, running. Swifter feet pursued,
And brought him back. Still all the night he raved.
At length, with kind words, loving tones, and sound
Of gentle music, having soothed his rage,—
Calmly I spake with him; and promise gave,—
So he a reasoning man once more would be,—
Far as my power might go, his suit to speed,
And aid him win that jewel. For the law,—
The maid herself, perchance, its interdict
Might set aside; Osiris for her god,
In place of him, Jehovah named, thenceforth
Avowing..... Answer not as yet, fair maid:
Nor any of you speak till all be told.
A point momentous this ye deem, I see;
Though, of a truth, 'tis nought; or nothing more
Than a sound's difference. Ye Jehovah say;
Osiris we: yet, by two words, one thing
Meaning alike: and it poor wisdom were,
A word to cling to, and give up a world:
For, that word holding, more than a world's worth
Ye fling away. Who higher rates the gem
Seen in the mirror, than the gem itself,
Such folly might act: but not so you, I trust,
All knowing, and considering. For myself,
Plainly I say,—did not Egyptian law,—
Stronger, in this, upon Egyptian king,
Than even on humblest subject, force on me,
For names of god and goddess, the words sent
From hoar antiquity down,—as readily
Would I Jehovah, as Osiris speak;
For Isis, whatsoever goddess-name
Ye to the like power give. Small mountain this,
For a firm foot, and steady brain, to climb:
And oh! what glorious prospect from its height!
Small obstacle I say; yet, unto you
Alone, 'tis small; a thing to be o'erleaped,
Scarce drawing breath; but, unto us, a rock
Precipitous; high as heaven; impassable!
The maiden, by a word, may fit herself
To espouse Egyptian king: Egyptian king,
Neither by word, nor act, could be made free
To wed false worshipper; for law, more old
Than records tell, would crown and sceptre take,
And to another give them. Ponder then,
I pray you, all; thou, maiden, first and chief;
Ye, her fond parents; and thou, modest youth,
Sore as thy grief would be; and thou, his sire,—
Ponder, I pray you all, the mighty thing
That ye are hearing: and, for slight account,
Miss not a sun that waits to rise on you;
And plunge yourselves in everlasting night.