 | Joseph And His Brethren |  |
Scene XI.
—The Vale.Enter Jacob and his Tribe, Joseph, Brethren, Officers, Attendants, &c.
Jacob.
Stand farther back—again, let me behold thee.—
Ah!—hast thou pass'd so many dismal years
Expos'd to Fate's compulsive action,
Naked to chance, unfriended, and forlorn,
And I was glad and happy!
250
This is not well.—
I live, and am not dead; and God, you see,
Has honour'd me beyond my patience.
Jacob.
True—true.—But I am sick with love: behold,
As a pomegranate, shaken by the wind,
Strewing its mellow fruit with autumn's hand;
So has my ripen'd joy been shower'd down;
And I am weak in body and in mind;
My joy did make me tremble, and I fear'd
It would uproot my manhood, spurs and all.
Joseph.
Lean upon me.
Jacob.
Yea, I am better now;
But your old hearts are ever ripe to death.
I have not wept my fill.
Joseph.
Take courage, pray,
My father: lo! thy beard is soak'd with tears.
Jacob.
Never more precious dew from heaven fell
Than those rare drops that mingle in my beard.—
Silence did strive to suffocate my heart,
But sobs still vented life. Such an embrace,
Great God, must touch Thy love!
251
No more—be patient!
Jacob.
Ah! Rachel's child! yet in thy manly face
I do behold thy lambency in youth;
And the proud coat of many colours, made
By these old doting hands, I still can see
O'erwav'd by thy young curls.
Joseph.
Behold me chang'd.
Now I am lord of chariots, and of horse,
Of men-at-arms, and second to the king;
Full of command and power.
Jacob.
Yea, it is much.—
Didst thou reward, in thy prosperity,
Those who were kind to thee when thou wert low?
Didst overpay their love? I hope thou didst,
For they did do my office—my good child!—
Joseph.
Alas! alas! virtue that hath no power
To bring its own pretensions into light,
Feeds upon orts, and dies without a grave:
For all the world neglects it in its life,
And it ascends to God, embalm'd with tears.
Jacob.
Come, let us change the talk—we must all bear;
252
There are now fled upon a nimble wing
A many years since I did hold thee thus:
Yet I do know thee well.—Joseph, art sure
This mighty king will not be wroth with thee,
That I have brought my tribe into the land?
And yet, why ask?—thou'rt wise—belov'd of all.
Come, let us go; and I will ride beside
Thee in thy car.—Speak!—Let me hear thy voice.
Joseph.
So thou shalt, father.
Jacob.
Joseph, art thou ill?
Thou lookest very pale.
Joseph.
Behold me smile.
Jacob.
Come,—that is well.—Benjamin, take my staff;
I'll lean upon thy brother:—'tis a bright day.
I said I would come down into the land,
See thee, and die.—I would fain live a little!—
[Exeunt.
| Joseph And His Brethren | |