University of Virginia Library

“First, to myself and Egypt, this the good;”
With bright benignant look pursued the king;
“All future plagues,—if magic such could send,—
For doubtful is the power,—we should escape.
A minister wise, and faithful, diligent, just,
In Reuben should I have; and my loved child,
In him a loving husband. Last, and chief,—
My noble son, and heir unto my throne;
Now love-distraught, and steeped in wretchedness
Might move with pity even the very beast,—
Once more would be a man; once more to heaven
Would lift his face; and thank the merciful gods,
That they a lovelier far than in the train
Of Isis had sent down, his arms to bless.
Such unto me, and Egypt, is the good.
Great do I grant it: but, to yours, my friends,
As clay it is to diamond. Through this land
All Israel would be free,—free to go hence;
Free to remain: and, if remaining, free
From every tax, save such as, through the realm,
Egyptians pay. This to the general good
Of your whole race. For your particular gain,
Glorious indeed the promise. Unto you,
The parents of this youth, and this blest maid,
A joy the dearest in parental heart,—
To see its offspring wealthy, glorious, great:
To thee, young Reuben, riches, rank, and power,
Second to king's alone; and,—happiness
That kings in vain have sighed for,—the bright pearl
Of all Egyptian beauty, for thy wife,
Even Pharaoh's loveliest daughter. Gold indeed,
Ten times refinëd gold thou'rt offered now:
And thou wilt take it: ay, I hear thy soul
Speak, though thy tongue is mute.

“But now, the last,
To thee, celestial, human, whatsoe'er
Thy nature be; for still, the more I look,
More doubtful do I grow, if earth, or heaven,
The justlier claim thee; and the less amazed
That, gazing on thee, was the spirit-eye
Of Sethos struck with blindness...let not fall
Thy snowy lids, and round thine eloquent lips
A shadow gather; as if fulsome praise
From some hot youth thou heard; for agëd eyes
Look not through passion's ruby-tinted glass,
Which shows even poorest rich; but through clear air
Of truth's broad daylight, which all qualities shows
In their own absolute nature. For my words,
Deem them not flattery, then, or cozenage,
To some false end; since, in all possible scope
Of world-events, what 'vantage could I gain
By thee deceiving? If in rapturous phrase
Thy qualities I speak of,—deem me, then,
As one but giving tongue, enforcedly,
To the soul's rigorous bidding: and, from me,
Accept as my own truth, what, by thee judged,
False, through excess, may seem. Raise, then, thy face,
Blest Rachel, and behold me as thy friend.