University of Virginia Library

Scene IV.

—Jacob's Tent.
Enter Reuben, Zebulun, Dan, and Naphtali.
Reuben.
Our food is gone, and what are we to do?
We may not go to this Egyptian lord
Without our brother, for he surely then
Will deal with us as spies.

Zebulun.
And that I fear
Will scarcely be; for Jacob did deny,
In wrathful terms, our hardly-urg'd request
When first we did return into the land:
And therefore Simeon has in danger lodg'd
Until this hour.

Enter Jacob, Benjamin, Judah, and Levi.
Jacob.
I say he shall not go.—
Wherefore bereave me of my children thus?
Joseph is not, and Simeon is not,
And now ye will take Benjamin away.—
All these things are against me.

Reuben.
If I fail
To bring my brother back to you again,
Slay my two children.

Judah.
Thou sayest unto thy sons,
‘Go forth, buy corn; we famish.’—So we would;
But that the man did solemnly command
We should not see his face until we brought
Our other brother down.

Dan.
Therefore, we say,
If thou wilt let him go with us, 'tis well;
If not, we cannot go.

Jacob.
Why did you deal
So hardly with me as to tell the man
That I had yet another son at home?

Judah.
The man did chide us, saying, ‘Ye are spies,’
And often question'd us of our estate.
How could we know that he would say to us,
‘Bring me your brother.’

Jacob.
Benjamin is all
That I have left of Rachel's children now.
Joseph is lost for ever from my eyes;
And if you take this boy, and he should fall
In the way of danger as you go, you bring
My grey hairs down with sorrow to the grave.

Levi.
Brothers, it is decreed we stay and die.

Jacob.
Not so—not so.—Yet what am I to do?—
How was it that each man did find enclos'd
His money in his sack? Is it not strange
To send the money back to those who buy?—
And Simeon, too,—Simeon did go with you,
And he, you say, was made a prisoner.—
It is a dangerous thing: he shall not go!

Zebulun.
Why, then, we cannot go into the land.

Jacob.
Mischief will come if you do take the boy.

Zebulun.
And if we stay, both he and we must starve.

Jacob.
And is it nothing, to lose children thus?

Naphtali.
One of two evils surely thou must choose;
Either thyself, thy sons, and all thy tribe,
Must perish here about thy tent for want,
Or thou must send the boy down in our hand,
And we will bring back Simeon, and corn;
And Benjamin, and all thy tribe shall live;
And if we had not linger'd o'er this thing,
We had been down into the land, and back.

Judah.
Nay, let my father trust the lad with me;
I will be bond and surety that he shall
Return to thee. And if I bring him not,
For ever be the blame upon my head,
And let my father shun me.

Jacob.
Take from out
Our scanty stores the dainties of the land,—
Of balm, of myrrh, of spices, and of nuts,
Almonds, and honey: and let every one
Take double money, and therewith the same
That was return'd before into his sack;
For peradventure 'twas an oversight.
And also take your brother in your hand—
Arise, and go; and God be merciful,
So that the man may send back Simeon
And Benjamin: for if I am bereav'd
Of all my children, then I am bereav'd!

Judah.
Fear not—
The man will know by this we are no spies,
And will return us Simeon to our hands;
And, seeing we are better than he thought,
Treat us with courtesy.

Jacob.
Amen—amen!—

[Exit.
Enter Issachar.
Judah.
Ah, Issachar, there is blood upon thy brow!

Issachar.
Blood is more like to bead upon my brow
Than is a tear to tremble in my eye.
Oh! that this famine were incorporate,
That I might wrestle with him for the fall.

Levi.
Where hast thou been these three hours, Issachar?

Issachar.
Into the wilderness, o'er vale and mount,
To struggle with the panther for his heart.
Why do you blench, why do you stand at bay,
And tamely let this famine suck your blood?
Man hath a touch of the great elements,—
In fierce distress he should o'erleap himself,
And ravage like an angel that is chaf'd;
His spirit, being press'd as ours is now,
Should rage within him like a furnace clos'd:
Become rich fire to quench the wrath of fate,
Firm as the earth, like stubborn as the wind
That roars along the valley in the storm.
Yea, with repulsive power, like that which heaves
The sick Leviathan league after league,
Bruis'd, on the mountain backs of forkèd waves,—
Let us but think our former life hath been
Idle and womanish, and now begin
To play with danger as an exercise
Fitting our manhood, and our labouring breath.
Oh, power and fortitude, I will have food!
Why faint? why die? The eagles and their young,
The lion and the cub, still live as prey.
When not the bosom of the earth hath roots,
The trees bear bark to serve us for a need;
When there is nothing left us but the air
We can but die.

Dan.
There is some comfort yet.
We are to go to Egypt to buy corn,
Which the chief ruler sells.

Issachar.
Yea, anything
Rather than yield to this extremity.
Come to my tent, and browse upon the food.