University of Virginia Library

With a great burst of rage, as theretofore,
Looked they that he would greet them; but, behold,
A smile was on his lips,—a giant's smile,
In presence of a dwarf. Nor word he spake,
Nor sign made that he saw them. To the end,
The cause before him heard he; the award
Of the grave judges sanctioned; and arose,
Tokening the session o'er. But, suddenly,—
As if that moment first beholding them,—
On the great sons of Amram a cold look
Of mere surprise he cast; upon his throne
Again sat down; with calm and patient mien,
Awaited till the people had gone forth;
Then toward the Hebrews turned, and spake.

“What now
With Pharaoh would ye, that, unsummoned, thus
Ye come before him? Yet I need not ask;
For sure am I that the old jugglery
Ye come to act before me; some new plague
To threaten, if I will not let you go.
Speak freely then; for, not far off the day
When ours 'twill be to threaten, yours to obey.
Not ye alone, great sorcerers, in the blank
Of time-to-come can look; and see in life,
Events unborn as yet: our art, like yours,
Can make the future present: and the day,
I tell you, is at hand, when your great voice
Shall die in whimpers. But, of this enough:
Speak as ye will.”

Then Moses one step took,—
Not bending now the head; and, his right hand,
As one who warns, uplifting, with stern voice
Thus spake.

“Again, O Pharaoh, unto God
Vow hast thou broken. How long, thinkest thou,
Will this be suffered? Hath not, evermore,
Punishment fallen upon thee, when thy deeds
Have given the lie to promise? Dost thou hope
That God's strength is worn out? palsied His arm?
Or His plague-quiver spent? A handful take
From ocean's wave, and sprinkle it in air:
As those few drops, unto the boundless deep,
So the plagues past, to plagues that yet remain,—
Willed He to send them. Hard art thou of heart,
Shameless, and false! In thy great agony,
Didst thou not cry,—‘entreat ye now the Lord,
That no more thunderings, and hail there be;
Then shall ye go; ye shall no longer stay?’
And, afterward, did I not answer thus;
‘But as for thee, and thine, I know that yet
Ye will not fear the Lord?’ Ay, king, even then
I saw the lie within thee; and see now
Within thee what against thyself doth lie,—
A hope, false, foolish, that o'er Israel's God
The mastery thou may gain; and, in thy turn,
Become the threatener, and the conqueror.
Or from thine own proud heart, or from the tongue
Of the false speaker, if such folly have come,—
Quench it, O Pharaoh, as the torch thou'dst quench,
Thrust in to fire thy palace. When thy hand
Can stretch into the infinite; pluck forth thence
Star after star; and in the bottomless void
Of Night down cast them: when thy palm, outspread,
Can cover up the sun; and crush his fire
To darkness, as a candle is crushed out,—
Even then be sure that, unto Israel's God,
Still as a candle art thou to the sun:
Nay, even as nought: for, to the infinite,
The finite, greatest, less and less becomes,
Till nothing seems it; all invisible,
As dust-mote, leagues away. Yet, well I see
That words to thee are vain; that, hard of heart,
Proud and imperious, thou dost hold thyself
Still as a god o'er Israel. Hearken then.
To thee the Lord God of the Hebrews saith;
‘How long wilt thou refuse to bow thyself
Before the Lord! Let thou my people go,
That they may serve me: else, if thou refuse,
Behold, tomorrow will I bring a cloud
Of locusts on thy coasts; which all the land
Of Egypt so shall cover, that no eye
May the ground see: and all that from the hail
Remaineth to you, every tree of the field,
Shall they devour. Thy houses shall they fill;
The houses of thy servants; every house
Of all the Egyptians: such the plague shall be,
As thy forefathers, even since the day
When first on earth they were, have never seen.’”