University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

To them Phanor.
Phan.
At length the Cup is found.

Jos.
Where?

Phan.
Hid, my Lord, amidst thy gen'rous Presents.
Benjamin had it.

Jos.
Benjamin!

Benj.
I had it!

Phan.
Behold his Sack, and in it view the Theft.

Benj.
Am I a Robber? Shield me, righteous Heav'n!

Jos.
Seize him.

Benj.
O Heav'n! thou know'st my Innocence!

Jos.
No more—
Leave him alone to suffer—As for you,
Go, get you up in Peace unto your Father.

Recitative accompany'd.
Benj.
What! without me? Ah! how return in Peace!
What can you say? What Comfort can you yield
To the distracted Parent? O unhappy!
Unhappy Benjamin! Thou at thy Birth.
Gav'st Death unto thy Mother—and now dying,
Thou likewise tak'st thy tender Father's Life.

ARIOSO.
Benj.
O Pity!—

Jos.
[Aside.]
—Ah! I must not hear.

Benj.
Not to myself—

Jos.
[Aside.]
—Be blind, my Eyes.

Benj.
My sinking Father!—

Jos.
[Aside.]
—Trait'rous Tear!

Benj.
O pity him!—

Jos.
[Aside.]
—Be still, ye Sighs.

AIR.
Benj.
Remember, at the first Embrace
You call'd me Son—O view this Face;
I still as much deserve the Name;
Thy Heart alone is not the same.

Jos.
To Prison with him.

Sim.
O illustrious Zaphnath,
Give room to Pity; thou who rulest Kingdoms,
Rule, to thy greater Glory, thy own Spirit:
Or to his Father render back the Youth,
Or Death to us.

Jos.
[Roughly.]
On whom the Cup was found, him I retain.

[Exit.
Sim.
What, gone! not hear us!

Judah.
—Yet methoughts I saw
Some Marks of Pity on his Face—

Sim.
What Pity!
Recitative accompany'd.
The Man who flies the Wretched, nor will hear them,
For fear of yielding to their piercing Cries,
Has only Pity for himself.

Recitative accompany'd.
Judah.
Peace, Simeon;
Remember Dothan's Fields, the horrid Pit!
And Joseph's Cries!—Were we not deaf to them?
Then we'd not hear—and now we are not heard.

Reuben.
What Counsel can we take?—If we return,
Our Father dies with Grief—If here we stay,
With Famine—Death is either way his Lot—
And black Despair is ours—

Recitative accompany'd.
Sim.
O gracious God,
We merit well this Scourge, but thou art He,
Whose Property is ever to have Mercy.

Chorus of the Brethren.

Sim.
But Peace, Zaphnath returns—