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SCENE I.

Asenath, Phanor, and Chorus of Egyptians.
CHORUS.
Hail , thou Youth by Heav'n belov'd!
Now thy wond'rous Wisdom's prov'd!
Zaphnath Egypt's Fate foresaw,
And snatch'd her from the Famine's Jaw.

Pha.
How vast a Theme has Egypt for Applause!
O Asenath, behold thy mighty Lord!
High on his gilded Car triumphant ride,
Whilst prostrate Multitudes that do him Honours,
Obstruct his Passage through the Streets of Memphis.
The raptur'd Virgins hail him in their Lays,
And gazing Matrons lift their grateful Hands,
Whilst hoary Sages rise, and bow the Head,
And Infants half articulate his Name.

Asen.
These Honours flow not from the Flatterers Lips,
Like those that lavish Stream in Fortune's Lap;

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But from Sincere Benevolence, and Love,
And Bosoms glowing with a grateful Transport.

AIR.
Phan.
Our Fruits, whilst yet in Blossom, die,
Our Harvest's in the new-sown Seed;
Barren the mournful Ridges lie,
Undeck'd the once enamell'd Mead.
But Zaphnath's Providential Care
Retaliates for the niggard Soil;
Through him in Dearth we Plenty share,
Nor heed th'inexorable Nile.

[Phan.]
He's Egypt's common Parent, gives her Bread;
He's Egypt's only Safety, only Hope;
Whilst Egypt's Welfare is his only Care.

CHORUS.
Blest be the Man by Pow'r unstain'd,
Virtue there itself rewarding!
Blest be the Man to Wealth unchain'd,
Treasure for the Publick hoarding!

Asen.
Phanor, we mention not his highest Glory,
Mark midst his Grandeur what Humility,
The Gift of that great God whom he adores.
Yet something seems of late to bear upon him,
And cloud his wonted Smile; not all his Splendor,
Th'Applause of Millions, or my studious Love,
Can yield him Comfort, or asswage his Grief.

Phan.
Perchance he wants to view his native Land,
Whose God and Laws are the Reverse of Egypt's.

Asen.
Phanor, 'tis true, he calls it oft' to mind,
And oft' in Silence sighs, and mourns his Absence;
Nor finds he Peace, save when his smiling Infants,
The Pledges of our Love, are in his Arms:

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There will he grasp them—there, with ardent Look,
He eyes them—while, from 'midst his struggling Sighs,
Words burst like these—
AIR.
Together, lovely Innocents, grow up,
Link'd in eternal Chains of Brother-Love;
For you mayn't Envy bear her pois'nous Cup,
Nor Hate her unrelenting Armour prove.
He then is silent, then again exclaims—
Inhuman Brethren! O unhappy Father!
What Anguish too much Love for me has cost thee!
Such are his Cares, nor have I yet discover'd
The fatal Cause—But once more I'll attempt it.

Phan.
“These Men of Canaan too, pretended Brethren,
“Who come to purchase Corn, give him Disquiet:
“One of them he detain'd in Bonds as Hostage
“For their Return with Proof they were not Spies;
“But their long Absence makes him doubt their Faith.
“I'll to my Lord, and learn this Prisoner's Fate.

[Exeunt severally.