 | Israel in Egypt |  |
Throughout the city, and the lands around,
Soon ran the rumour that, from Israel's God,
Moses a word had brought unto the king,
Threatening, that on the morrow he would send
New plague o'er all the land,—even grievous hail,
Such as in Egypt, from the very day
Of its foundation, never had been seen.
They, therefore, of the servants of the king,
Who feared the word of Israel's Lord, sent forth,
Commanding that all serving men, and beasts,
Should, on the morrow, in safe shelter bide:
But they who heeded not the word of God,
Left in the field their servants, and their beasts.
A woman first, and, after her, three men,
Hastily ran; lifted, and bore him in;
And the door barred. Even at that point of time,
Hail, fire, and rain as from heaven's flood-gates loosed,
Driven by the hurricane's dread artillery,
Heavy as ocean-wave smote on the house;
Battering, and shaking, as if stone from stone
Furious to rend, and scatter on the ground.
His hour not yet was come; and Sethos 'scaped.
Soon ran the rumour that, from Israel's God,
Moses a word had brought unto the king,
Threatening, that on the morrow he would send
New plague o'er all the land,—even grievous hail,
Such as in Egypt, from the very day
Of its foundation, never had been seen.
They, therefore, of the servants of the king,
Who feared the word of Israel's Lord, sent forth,
Commanding that all serving men, and beasts,
Should, on the morrow, in safe shelter bide:
But they who heeded not the word of God,
Left in the field their servants, and their beasts.
Audacious most of all, the king himself,
By Satan with great wrath and pride inflamed,
Mocked at the threatening; and his servants bade
Leave all within the field; nay, drive therein
All cattle whatsoe'er, which, under shed,
Or in the stable, else, had been secure:
So boldly his defiance to speak out
'Gainst Moses, and his God.
By Satan with great wrath and pride inflamed,
Mocked at the threatening; and his servants bade
Leave all within the field; nay, drive therein
All cattle whatsoe'er, which, under shed,
Or in the stable, else, had been secure:
So boldly his defiance to speak out
'Gainst Moses, and his God.
But humbler men
Among the Egyptians, who the wondrous things
By Moses done had seen,—respected him,
And in his word believed: and all their beasts,
As night drew on, brought homeward from the fields;
And bade that, of their servants, not one man,
Woman, or child, should on the morrow stir
From out their dwellings; lest the hail should fall,
And slay them. Through the day, from house to house,
Both they of Egypt, and of Israel too,
Went anxiously,—with pale face, and low voice,
Discoursing of the Terror that should come.
Even they of Pharaoh's servants, who the most
Had feigned a mockery,—rulers, captains, priests,
And sorcerers,—in the silence of the night
Lay sleepless; a strange fear oppressing them,
Like his who, waking from deep slumber, feels
A stirring of the earthquake.
Among the Egyptians, who the wondrous things
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And in his word believed: and all their beasts,
As night drew on, brought homeward from the fields;
And bade that, of their servants, not one man,
Woman, or child, should on the morrow stir
From out their dwellings; lest the hail should fall,
And slay them. Through the day, from house to house,
Both they of Egypt, and of Israel too,
Went anxiously,—with pale face, and low voice,
Discoursing of the Terror that should come.
Even they of Pharaoh's servants, who the most
Had feigned a mockery,—rulers, captains, priests,
And sorcerers,—in the silence of the night
Lay sleepless; a strange fear oppressing them,
Like his who, waking from deep slumber, feels
A stirring of the earthquake.
One alone
Within the royal palace, no fear had
Of evil on the morrow; for he thought
Cunningly all to 'scape; and great joy have,
And perfect peace, even though the hail should fall
Dread as a rock-storm; and the plains and hills
Make stagger with the smiting.
Within the royal palace, no fear had
Of evil on the morrow; for he thought
Cunningly all to 'scape; and great joy have,
And perfect peace, even though the hail should fall
Dread as a rock-storm; and the plains and hills
Make stagger with the smiting.
Night, and day,
In the heart of Sethos had a demon worked;
Blowing to heat intense his foul desire
Toward Israel's snow-pure virgin, chosen of God:
When, therefore, standing by his father's side,
That hail-plague he heard threatened,—instantly,
To shun it he resolved; and, in the land
Of Goshen, pleasantly and safely, pass
That day of peril; and, perchance, the night,—
Should the storm pause not; for, that come it would,
Doubt had he none; though sorcery alone
As cause misdeeming. Therefore, the command
At evening gave he, that, with earliest dawn,
His chariot should stand ready,—one alone
Of all his train accompanying, the steeds
To govern; so, with mind unfettered, he
In love's bright heaven might rove.
In the heart of Sethos had a demon worked;
Blowing to heat intense his foul desire
Toward Israel's snow-pure virgin, chosen of God:
When, therefore, standing by his father's side,
That hail-plague he heard threatened,—instantly,
To shun it he resolved; and, in the land
Of Goshen, pleasantly and safely, pass
That day of peril; and, perchance, the night,—
Should the storm pause not; for, that come it would,
Doubt had he none; though sorcery alone
As cause misdeeming. Therefore, the command
At evening gave he, that, with earliest dawn,
His chariot should stand ready,—one alone
Of all his train accompanying, the steeds
To govern; so, with mind unfettered, he
In love's bright heaven might rove.
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But, through that night,
His whole base nature so the fiend inflamed
With dreams brain-maddening, that even certain death,
As penalty, seemed nought, so he but first
Might revel in the bliss. From bed he sprang,
And toward the east looked out. The morning star
Told night far spent. Attendants roused he then,
And bade that two score horsemen, fully armed,
At day-break, close beyond the eastern gate,
Should bide his coming; for resolved he was,—
Love's lurements failing,—by the violent hand
To seize the Rose of Goshen, and bear off:
Whither, as yet he knew not: that, to time
He left: for him could no place be amiss,
So therein were his goddess,—the sole thing
His frenzied eye could see: his father's wrath,
The blot of public shame; even death itself,
From private vengeance,—all invisible
Behind the one great blaze of hoped-for bliss.
With speed his arms he donned: one hasty cup,
Of food one morsel, took, and hurried forth.
His whole base nature so the fiend inflamed
With dreams brain-maddening, that even certain death,
As penalty, seemed nought, so he but first
Might revel in the bliss. From bed he sprang,
And toward the east looked out. The morning star
Told night far spent. Attendants roused he then,
And bade that two score horsemen, fully armed,
At day-break, close beyond the eastern gate,
Should bide his coming; for resolved he was,—
Love's lurements failing,—by the violent hand
To seize the Rose of Goshen, and bear off:
Whither, as yet he knew not: that, to time
He left: for him could no place be amiss,
So therein were his goddess,—the sole thing
His frenzied eye could see: his father's wrath,
The blot of public shame; even death itself,
From private vengeance,—all invisible
Behind the one great blaze of hoped-for bliss.
With speed his arms he donned: one hasty cup,
Of food one morsel, took, and hurried forth.
Obedient, yet amazed, his charioteer,
Armed as for battle, by the chariot stood:
One at the head of each impatient steed,
The humbler grooms awaited. With quick stride
Onward went Sethos; to the chariot leaped:
As lightly sprang the driver: the word spake;
And, to the clattering hoofs and jarring wheels,
On all sides round, the vast void court gave out
The clamoring echoes. Through the eastern gate
Quickly he passed. Beyond it, at each hand,
Mounted on battle-steeds, eager, strong, and swift;
With sword, and spear, and shield, cuirass, and helm,
Armed as for combat; twice ten chosen men,
Waiting his coming, stood. No word he spake,
But onward flew; and they, much marvelling,
In silence followed.
Armed as for battle, by the chariot stood:
One at the head of each impatient steed,
The humbler grooms awaited. With quick stride
Onward went Sethos; to the chariot leaped:
As lightly sprang the driver: the word spake;
And, to the clattering hoofs and jarring wheels,
On all sides round, the vast void court gave out
The clamoring echoes. Through the eastern gate
Quickly he passed. Beyond it, at each hand,
Mounted on battle-steeds, eager, strong, and swift;
With sword, and spear, and shield, cuirass, and helm,
Armed as for combat; twice ten chosen men,
Waiting his coming, stood. No word he spake,
But onward flew; and they, much marvelling,
In silence followed.
From the beaten road
Soon passed they to wide champaign, where, of tree,
Or bush, few were there, or the abodes of man,
Save shepherd's hovel. Uttering not a word,
At speed the prince urged on,—troubled to see
How swiftly waxed the light; yet hoping still,
Ere the first hail should fall, secure to stand
In sanctuary of Goshen. Glances quick
Casting at times toward heaven, thus rapidly on,
Pallid and mute, he drove.
Soon passed they to wide champaign, where, of tree,
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Save shepherd's hovel. Uttering not a word,
At speed the prince urged on,—troubled to see
How swiftly waxed the light; yet hoping still,
Ere the first hail should fall, secure to stand
In sanctuary of Goshen. Glances quick
Casting at times toward heaven, thus rapidly on,
Pallid and mute, he drove.
Three fourths, at length,
The journey was accomplished; the vault still
Gem-clear reposed: yet, but more anxiously
Glanced his keen eye round heaven; dreading, erelong,
Somewhere, to see first shadowing of the storm:
For now the sun was up; and, as he thought,
Same height had gained, at which, on the day past,
He stood when Moses said, “about this hour
Tomorrow, will I send a grievous hail:”
Wondered he, therefore, that all crystal clear
Shone yet the cloudless vault; and in his heart
Doubt felt, at length, if verily so far
Might power of magic stretch, that over gods,
Rulers of air, and storms, it might prevail.
At slow pace, then, he journeyed; fully assured,
That, long ere tempest that fair heaven could foul,
Safe should he be in Goshen.
The journey was accomplished; the vault still
Gem-clear reposed: yet, but more anxiously
Glanced his keen eye round heaven; dreading, erelong,
Somewhere, to see first shadowing of the storm:
For now the sun was up; and, as he thought,
Same height had gained, at which, on the day past,
He stood when Moses said, “about this hour
Tomorrow, will I send a grievous hail:”
Wondered he, therefore, that all crystal clear
Shone yet the cloudless vault; and in his heart
Doubt felt, at length, if verily so far
Might power of magic stretch, that over gods,
Rulers of air, and storms, it might prevail.
At slow pace, then, he journeyed; fully assured,
That, long ere tempest that fair heaven could foul,
Safe should he be in Goshen.
But, behold,
When next he looked behind him,—on the verge
Of the horizon where, few minutes back,
Sky had been clear as sapphire—blackness was,
Night-blackness, solid as rock.
When next he looked behind him,—on the verge
Of the horizon where, few minutes back,
Sky had been clear as sapphire—blackness was,
Night-blackness, solid as rock.
“On! on! lash on,”
Eagerly cried he; “the Plague-Demon comes.”
At once the thong resounded; and the steeds
Thundered along the plain. Backward again
He looked; and lo! in even that span of time,
Visibly higher the black surge had risen.
Upsprang he then,—with left hand clutching hard
The bounding chariot, pointed with the right,
And shouted to the horsemen; “look behind,—
Terror and Death are after you. On, on;
Keep rank no longer: fly as best ye may.
Reach Goshen, and be safe.” Again he sat,
But with head backward turned, eyes riveted
On the doom-boding heaven: for still up, up,
Swifter than racer drawing nigh the goal,
Ran the dire blackness: and, erelong,—though yet
No slightest breeze below stirred leaf, or grass,—
Came from that sea of cloud the terrible voice
Of the Storm-Lion, roaring for his prey.
Eagerly cried he; “the Plague-Demon comes.”
At once the thong resounded; and the steeds
Thundered along the plain. Backward again
He looked; and lo! in even that span of time,
Visibly higher the black surge had risen.
Upsprang he then,—with left hand clutching hard
The bounding chariot, pointed with the right,
And shouted to the horsemen; “look behind,—
Terror and Death are after you. On, on;
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Reach Goshen, and be safe.” Again he sat,
But with head backward turned, eyes riveted
On the doom-boding heaven: for still up, up,
Swifter than racer drawing nigh the goal,
Ran the dire blackness: and, erelong,—though yet
No slightest breeze below stirred leaf, or grass,—
Came from that sea of cloud the terrible voice
Of the Storm-Lion, roaring for his prey.
“On, on,” again he cried. The charioteer,
Wild with affright, shook the loose reins, and stamped,
And shouted to the horses. Tempest-fleet,
They battered the ground. Yet still, “on—on,” he cried;
For, over half the sky, the mountainous clouds
Had billowed; and, with din more terrible,
The hurricane roared; no longer over head
Sending its voice from far, but right to earth,
Heavy as water-floods dashing; that the steeds,—
Driven on like dust,—half flying, half with foot
Spurning the ground,—at speed brain-dizzying went.
Full with the wind they ran, or car and horse,
Down had been cast. The chariot, from the earth
Uplifted oft, as if for flight through air,
With wheels revolving sped,—then sank again,
Heavily jarring: but, with desperate gripe,
Still Sethos clung to the car; still round and round
Staring aghast: for, now, o'er all the heavens
Had swept the terrible gloom: the sun was quenched:
Day had seemed night, but that, from midst the clouds,
Like fierce eyes glancing, fiery meteors looked,
Impatient to be loosed. Heart-sick he saw,
The threat remembering; “Upon every man,
And beast, which in the field shall then be found,
And shall not be brought home, the hail shall come,
And they shall die!” And now for him no hope!
Goshen to reach, even at that tempest-speed,
Ere leaped on them the Plague, impossible!
Was there no shelter, then? no cave, no house,
No poorest hovel of even meanest man,
Wherein he might find safety? Eagerly,
By the red glimmerings aided, he looked forth:
Alas! nought saw he but uprooted shrubs,
Whirling along the ground; or, in mad flight,
Tossing in air; trees bending to the earth,
Writhing and twisting; huge limbs rent away;
And flying, light as leaves; old stubborn trunks,
That would not bow, struck down, as though a hand
Invisible, and almighty, with one blow
Had smitten them to earth. Mad with affright,
“On—on”—still shrieked he, though at blinding speed
The terrified horses flew: but his own voice
Scarce could he hear; in the hurricane's thunder-shout,
Small as the pipe of childhood. Back he looked:
Scattered behind him came the horsemen on,
Bowed to their horses' manes. Hastily then
Skyward he turned; for the black canopy,
Red suddenly grew,—cloud lightning against cloud,—
O'er all the arch of heaven, cloud, and red fire!
“On, on,” again he cried; and, shuddering, turned;
With starting eyeballs keenly peering out;
Hoping to see some shelter.
Wild with affright, shook the loose reins, and stamped,
And shouted to the horses. Tempest-fleet,
They battered the ground. Yet still, “on—on,” he cried;
For, over half the sky, the mountainous clouds
Had billowed; and, with din more terrible,
The hurricane roared; no longer over head
Sending its voice from far, but right to earth,
Heavy as water-floods dashing; that the steeds,—
Driven on like dust,—half flying, half with foot
Spurning the ground,—at speed brain-dizzying went.
Full with the wind they ran, or car and horse,
Down had been cast. The chariot, from the earth
Uplifted oft, as if for flight through air,
With wheels revolving sped,—then sank again,
Heavily jarring: but, with desperate gripe,
Still Sethos clung to the car; still round and round
Staring aghast: for, now, o'er all the heavens
Had swept the terrible gloom: the sun was quenched:
Day had seemed night, but that, from midst the clouds,
Like fierce eyes glancing, fiery meteors looked,
Impatient to be loosed. Heart-sick he saw,
The threat remembering; “Upon every man,
And beast, which in the field shall then be found,
And shall not be brought home, the hail shall come,
And they shall die!” And now for him no hope!
Goshen to reach, even at that tempest-speed,
Ere leaped on them the Plague, impossible!
Was there no shelter, then? no cave, no house,
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Wherein he might find safety? Eagerly,
By the red glimmerings aided, he looked forth:
Alas! nought saw he but uprooted shrubs,
Whirling along the ground; or, in mad flight,
Tossing in air; trees bending to the earth,
Writhing and twisting; huge limbs rent away;
And flying, light as leaves; old stubborn trunks,
That would not bow, struck down, as though a hand
Invisible, and almighty, with one blow
Had smitten them to earth. Mad with affright,
“On—on”—still shrieked he, though at blinding speed
The terrified horses flew: but his own voice
Scarce could he hear; in the hurricane's thunder-shout,
Small as the pipe of childhood. Back he looked:
Scattered behind him came the horsemen on,
Bowed to their horses' manes. Hastily then
Skyward he turned; for the black canopy,
Red suddenly grew,—cloud lightning against cloud,—
O'er all the arch of heaven, cloud, and red fire!
“On, on,” again he cried; and, shuddering, turned;
With starting eyeballs keenly peering out;
Hoping to see some shelter.
Far away,
Blazoned by lightning, a low house appeared.
Frantic for joy, he shrieked;—with quivering arm
Eagerly pointed; and still cried, “on, on.”
Again the charioteer, deliriously,
Stamped—shouted—shook the reins—and smote the steeds:—
Away,—away,—away:—and, for awhile,
Feebly yet glimmered hope. But, when again
Backward looked Sethos, scarce could he believe
What his eyes showed him; for, upon the rim
Of the horizon,—all on blaze with war
Of multitudinous lightnings,—seemed to fall
A shower terrific; not of rain, or hail,
But fire, white hot, as from the furnace pours
The melted iron. Rigid as in death,
And voiceless, stared he. Rapidly as cloud,
Low hanging, tempest-driven, sweeps overhead,—
So up the sky-arch mounted the dread Plague;
Sending before him mighty thunderings;
A thousand lightnings for his banner-flags,
The hurricane his trumpets.
Blazoned by lightning, a low house appeared.
Frantic for joy, he shrieked;—with quivering arm
Eagerly pointed; and still cried, “on, on.”
Again the charioteer, deliriously,
Stamped—shouted—shook the reins—and smote the steeds:—
Away,—away,—away:—and, for awhile,
Feebly yet glimmered hope. But, when again
Backward looked Sethos, scarce could he believe
What his eyes showed him; for, upon the rim
Of the horizon,—all on blaze with war
Of multitudinous lightnings,—seemed to fall
A shower terrific; not of rain, or hail,
But fire, white hot, as from the furnace pours
The melted iron. Rigid as in death,
And voiceless, stared he. Rapidly as cloud,
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So up the sky-arch mounted the dread Plague;
Sending before him mighty thunderings;
A thousand lightnings for his banner-flags,
The hurricane his trumpets.
Nigher still
As drew the Terror, lo! what fire had seemed,
Falling from heaven like rain,—now, likeness took
Of the dread Hail: and, even from north to south,
Spanning the plain, came on a mighty wave,
As of the storm-driven ocean,—cloud and fire
Mingled together, running on the ground.
And, as it nigher drew, even hurricane
And thunder deadened not the terrible crash
Of the down-pouring; for the Hail it was;
Masses of ice for hailstones, rugged and huge,
That dashed on earth,—shivered, and leaped, and hissed,
And whirled in air; billow-like rolling on;
A foam of ice-dust, lightning, hail, and rain,
Lashing together.
As drew the Terror, lo! what fire had seemed,
Falling from heaven like rain,—now, likeness took
Of the dread Hail: and, even from north to south,
Spanning the plain, came on a mighty wave,
As of the storm-driven ocean,—cloud and fire
Mingled together, running on the ground.
And, as it nigher drew, even hurricane
And thunder deadened not the terrible crash
Of the down-pouring; for the Hail it was;
Masses of ice for hailstones, rugged and huge,
That dashed on earth,—shivered, and leaped, and hissed,
And whirled in air; billow-like rolling on;
A foam of ice-dust, lightning, hail, and rain,
Lashing together.
Franticly as clings
To his frail raft the drowning mariner,—
So, to the rocking, leaping, flying car,
As with the death-grip, clung the fear-crazed prince;
Eyes rivetted, jaws locked, while backward still
On the dire Terror he glared. But a glad cry
Aroused him, and he turned. His charioteer
Ardently pointed onward. Blessed sight!
Shelter at last was near him! the lone house,
Seen from afar; humble, yet strong; and, now,
More coveted than, brief hour back, had been
A palace of one gem. A very scream
Of rapture he sent; but, in the midst, broke off:
For, like a sword-stroke, ringing on his helm,
A hailstone smote; one solitary stone;
Sent forward from the Plague,—so might it seem,—
Him singling out for vengeance. Such his thought,
As, rising from the chariot's cavity,
Whereto he had been smitten, he looked out,
And, near him, no hail saw. Again he sat;
Griped with both hands the car; and anxiously
His eyes on the lone house fixed.
To his frail raft the drowning mariner,—
So, to the rocking, leaping, flying car,
As with the death-grip, clung the fear-crazed prince;
Eyes rivetted, jaws locked, while backward still
On the dire Terror he glared. But a glad cry
Aroused him, and he turned. His charioteer
Ardently pointed onward. Blessed sight!
Shelter at last was near him! the lone house,
Seen from afar; humble, yet strong; and, now,
More coveted than, brief hour back, had been
A palace of one gem. A very scream
Of rapture he sent; but, in the midst, broke off:
For, like a sword-stroke, ringing on his helm,
A hailstone smote; one solitary stone;
Sent forward from the Plague,—so might it seem,—
Him singling out for vengeance. Such his thought,
As, rising from the chariot's cavity,
Whereto he had been smitten, he looked out,
And, near him, no hail saw. Again he sat;
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His eyes on the lone house fixed.
Soon, in the porch,
Women and men he spied,—with heads thrust forth,
Fearfully peering; and, with arm upraised,
One standing foremost, pointing earnestly.
Turning to look,—horror on horror,—lo!
The terrible Destroyer, nigh at hand,
Eagle-swift rushing on; its monstrous wave
Tearing along the ground, with noise more dread
Than stormiest ocean's thunder. But, where now,—
Where are the horsemen? Ha! he sees them still;
Scarce arrowflight distant,—almost chest to ground,
The horses stretching. But, far swifter yet
Comes on the Terror,—sending out afar
Vaunt-couriers fierce—wide-scattered hailstones, shot
Like spears of iron from a Titan's arm.
Struck as by thunderbolt, steed, or rider, falls,
And whirls along the ground. Still fly the rest;
Though, with even tempest-wafted falcon's speed,
Hopeless to 'scape......Anon, through all the din,
Pierces a dread sound,—shriek of man, and horse,
In the death-fear-spasm: then, his terrible foot,
The Plague flings out, and stamps them into dust!
Women and men he spied,—with heads thrust forth,
Fearfully peering; and, with arm upraised,
One standing foremost, pointing earnestly.
Turning to look,—horror on horror,—lo!
The terrible Destroyer, nigh at hand,
Eagle-swift rushing on; its monstrous wave
Tearing along the ground, with noise more dread
Than stormiest ocean's thunder. But, where now,—
Where are the horsemen? Ha! he sees them still;
Scarce arrowflight distant,—almost chest to ground,
The horses stretching. But, far swifter yet
Comes on the Terror,—sending out afar
Vaunt-couriers fierce—wide-scattered hailstones, shot
Like spears of iron from a Titan's arm.
Struck as by thunderbolt, steed, or rider, falls,
And whirls along the ground. Still fly the rest;
Though, with even tempest-wafted falcon's speed,
Hopeless to 'scape......Anon, through all the din,
Pierces a dread sound,—shriek of man, and horse,
In the death-fear-spasm: then, his terrible foot,
The Plague flings out, and stamps them into dust!
Aghast with horror,—staring—motionless—
Wellnigh of reason bereft—awhile he sat:
Then turned; shut close his eyes, and waited death.
But, suddenly, bethought him,—seized his shield—
Flung it across his back,—and looked again
Toward his one only hope. Even yet, even yet,
Possible seemed escape: scarce bow-shot off,
Stood the lone house; wind-swift the horses flew:
Still, swifter far came on the roar and crash
Of the irresistible Plague; and, ere full speed
Could slackened be, and he could leap to ground,
The Fury might be on them. Thinking thus,
“On, on,” again he shrieked: but his own voice,
In the dread uproar heard not. By the arm,
He shook the charioteer;—no sign replied;
Nought felt the man, or heard: the body alone
Sat stiffly at its work; with rigid hands,
The reins and scourge holding obediently,
Though Mind, the ruler, slept. On the white face
A moment Sethos looked; then stretched his arm,
The reins to seize; but, in that instant, struck
By a great ice-bolt, headlong to the earth
The driver tumbled, dead; in his clenched hand
Dragging them down. One glance upon the corse
Showed him the reins torn loose from the hard gripe,
And trailing on the ground. Gone now all hope!
Another instant, and beyond the house
The unmastered steeds would fly! Death certain, then,
In the next would leap upon him. Bootless all
That in the porch stood men who would have helped!
Lifting their arms, they seemed to cry to him:
He heard not; had not heard, though every voice
Had been a giant's trumpet.
Wellnigh of reason bereft—awhile he sat:
Then turned; shut close his eyes, and waited death.
But, suddenly, bethought him,—seized his shield—
Flung it across his back,—and looked again
Toward his one only hope. Even yet, even yet,
Possible seemed escape: scarce bow-shot off,
Stood the lone house; wind-swift the horses flew:
Still, swifter far came on the roar and crash
Of the irresistible Plague; and, ere full speed
Could slackened be, and he could leap to ground,
The Fury might be on them. Thinking thus,
“On, on,” again he shrieked: but his own voice,
In the dread uproar heard not. By the arm,
He shook the charioteer;—no sign replied;
308
Sat stiffly at its work; with rigid hands,
The reins and scourge holding obediently,
Though Mind, the ruler, slept. On the white face
A moment Sethos looked; then stretched his arm,
The reins to seize; but, in that instant, struck
By a great ice-bolt, headlong to the earth
The driver tumbled, dead; in his clenched hand
Dragging them down. One glance upon the corse
Showed him the reins torn loose from the hard gripe,
And trailing on the ground. Gone now all hope!
Another instant, and beyond the house
The unmastered steeds would fly! Death certain, then,
In the next would leap upon him. Bootless all
That in the porch stood men who would have helped!
Lifting their arms, they seemed to cry to him:
He heard not; had not heard, though every voice
Had been a giant's trumpet.
But a hand
More mighty came to save. Stone-dead at once,
A thunderbolt smote the horses. Heavy as lead,
Down dropped they: snapping pole and trace, rolled o'er;
And lay, haunch-foremost. Shot from out the car,
As from a catapult—limbs stretched and stiff,
As in a dream of flying from a height,—
Beyond the horses far, on flew the prince:
Dashed to the earth;—whirled rapidly o'er and o'er;—
Stopped,—heavily backward swayed,—and lay as dead.
Forth from the porch, their own lives perilling,
More mighty came to save. Stone-dead at once,
A thunderbolt smote the horses. Heavy as lead,
Down dropped they: snapping pole and trace, rolled o'er;
And lay, haunch-foremost. Shot from out the car,
As from a catapult—limbs stretched and stiff,
As in a dream of flying from a height,—
Beyond the horses far, on flew the prince:
Dashed to the earth;—whirled rapidly o'er and o'er;—
Stopped,—heavily backward swayed,—and lay as dead.
A woman first, and, after her, three men,
Hastily ran; lifted, and bore him in;
And the door barred. Even at that point of time,
Hail, fire, and rain as from heaven's flood-gates loosed,
Driven by the hurricane's dread artillery,
Heavy as ocean-wave smote on the house;
Battering, and shaking, as if stone from stone
Furious to rend, and scatter on the ground.
His hour not yet was come; and Sethos 'scaped.
| Israel in Egypt | |