 | Moses in the Bulrushes |  |
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2. PART II.
SCENE, The Banks of the Nile.Enter MIRIAM, after having deposited the child.
Yes, I have laid him in his watry bed,
His watry grave, I fear!—I tremble still;
It was a cruel task—still I must weep!
But ah! my mother, who shall sooth thy griefs?
The flags and sea-weed will awhile sustain
Their precious load, but it must sink e'er long!
Sweet babe, farewell! Yet think not I will leave thee;
No, I will watch thee till the greedy waves
Devour thy little bark: I'll sit me down,
And sing to thee, sweet babe! Thou can'st not hear,
But 'twill amuse me while I watch thy fate.
[She sits down on a bank and sings.
His watry grave, I fear!—I tremble still;
It was a cruel task—still I must weep!
But ah! my mother, who shall sooth thy griefs?
The flags and sea-weed will awhile sustain
Their precious load, but it must sink e'er long!
Sweet babe, farewell! Yet think not I will leave thee;
No, I will watch thee till the greedy waves
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And sing to thee, sweet babe! Thou can'st not hear,
But 'twill amuse me while I watch thy fate.
SONG.
I.
Thou, who canst make the feeble strong,O God of Israel, hear my song!
Not mine such notes as Egypt's daughters raise,
'Tis thee, O God of Hosts, I strive to praise.
II.
Ye winds, the servants of the Lord,Ye waves, obedient to his word,
O spare the babe committed to your trust,
And Israel shall confess the Lord is just!
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III.
Tho' doom'd to find an early grave,This helpless infant thou canst save;
And he whose death is doom'd by Pharaoh's hand,
May rise a prophet to redeem the land.
Who moves this way? of royal port she seems;
Perhaps sent hither by the hand of Heav'n,
To prop the falling house of Levi.—Soft!
I'll listen unperceiv'd, these trees will hide me.
Perhaps sent hither by the hand of Heav'n,
To prop the falling house of Levi.—Soft!
I'll listen unperceiv'd, these trees will hide me.
[She stands behind.
Enter the PRINCESS of Egypt, attended by a train of Ladies.
PRINCESS.
No farther, Virgins; here I mean to rest,
To taste the pleasant coolness of the breeze,
Perhaps to bathe in this translucent stream.
Did not our holy law enjoin th' ablution
Frequent and regular; it still were needful,
To mitigate the fervors of our clime.
Ianthe, stay—the rest at distance wait.
[They all go out, except one.
To taste the pleasant coolness of the breeze,
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Did not our holy law enjoin th' ablution
Frequent and regular; it still were needful,
To mitigate the fervors of our clime.
Ianthe, stay—the rest at distance wait.
The PRINCESS looks out.
Sure, or I much mistake, or I perceive
Upon the sedgy margin of the Nile
A chest; entangled in the reeds it seems;
Discern'st thou ought?
Upon the sedgy margin of the Nile
A chest; entangled in the reeds it seems;
Discern'st thou ought?
IANTHE.
Something, but what I know not.
PRINCESS.
Go and examine, what this sight may mean.
[Exit maid.
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, behind.
O blest, beyond my hopes! he is discover'd;
My brother will be sav'd! who is this stranger?
Ah! 'tis the Princess, cruel Pharaoh's daughter.
If she resemble her inhuman Sire,
She must be cruel too; yet fame reports her
Most merciful and mild:—I'll mark th' event,
And pray that Heav'n may prompt her to preserve him.
Re-enter IANTHE.
PRINCESS.
Hast thou discover'd what the vessel is?
IANTHE.
Oh, Princess, I have seen the strangest sight!
Within the vessel lies a sleeping babe,
A fairer infant have I never seen!
PRINCESS.
Who knows, but some unhappy Hebrew woman
Has thus expos'd her infant, to evade
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Unhappy mothers! oft my heart has bled
In secret anguish o'er your slaughter'd sons.
IANTHE.
Shou'd this be one my Princess knows the danger.
PRINCESS.
No danger shou'd deter from acts of mercy.
MIRIAM
, behind.
A thousand blessings on her princely head!
PRINCESS.
Too much the sons of Jacob have endur'd
From royal Pharaoh's unrelenting hate;
Too much our house has crush'd their alien race.
Is't not enough, that cruel task-masters
Grind them by hard oppression and stern bondage?
Is't not enough, my father owes his greatness,
His palaces, his fanes magnificent;
Those structures which the world with wonder views,
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To them his growing cities owe their splendor,
Their labours built fair Rameses and Pythom;
And now, at length, his still increasing rage,
To iron bondage adds the guilt of murder.
And shall this little helpless infant perish?
Forbid it justice, and forbid it, heav'n!
IANTHE.
I know, thy royal father fears the strength
Of this still growing race, who flourish more
The more they are oppress'd; he dreads their numbers.
PRINCESS.
Apis forbid! Pharaoh afraid of Israel!
Yet shou'd this outcast race, this hapless people
E'er grow to such a formidable greatness;
(Which all the gods avert, whom Egypt worships),
This infant's life can never serve their cause,
Nor can this single death prevent their greatness.
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I know not that: by weakest instruments
Sometimes are great events produc'd; this child
Perhaps may live to serve his upstart race
More than an host.
PRINCESS.
How ill does it beseem
Thy tender years, and gentle womanhood
To steel thy breast to Pity's sacred touch!
So weak, so unprotected is our sex,
So constantly expos'd, so very helpless,
That did not Heav'n itself enjoin compassion,
Yet human policy shou'd make us kind,
Lest we shou'd need the pity we refuse.
Yes, I will save him—lead me to the place;
And from the feeble rushes we'll remove
The little ark, which cradles this poor babe.
[The Princess and maid go out.
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comes forward.
How poor were words, to speak my boundless joy!
The Princess will protect him; bless her, Heav'n!
[She looks out after the Princess, and describes her action.
With what impatient steps she seeks the shore!
Now she approaches where the ark is laid!
With what compassion, with what angel-sweetness,
She bends to look upon the infant's face!
She takes his little hand in her's—he wakes—
She smiles upon him—hark! alas, he cries;
Weep on, sweet babe! weep on, till thou hast touch'd
Each chord of pity, waken'd every sense
Of melting sympathy, and stolen her soul.
She takes him in her arms—O lovely Princess!
How goodness heightens beauty! now she clasps him
With fondness to her heart, she gives him now
With tender caution to her damsel's arms:
She points her to the palace, and again
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The virgin-train retire, and bear the child.
Re-enter the PRINCESS.
PRINCESS.
Did ever innocence and infant-beauty
Plead with such dumb but powerful eloquence?
If I, a stranger, feel these soft emotions,
What must the mother who expos'd him feel!
Go, fetch a woman of the Hebrew race,
That she may nurse the babe; and, by her garb,
Lo such a one is here!
MIRIAM.
Princess, all hail!
Forgive the bold intrusion of thy servant,
Who stands a charm'd spectator of thy goodness.
PRINCESS.
I have redeem'd an infant from the waves,
Whom I intend to nurture as mine own.
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My transports will betray me! [Aside.]
Gen'rous Princess!
PRINCESS.
Know'st thou a matron of the Hebrew race,
To whom I may confide him?
MIRIAM.
Well I know
A prudent matron of the house of Levi,
Her name Jochèbed is, the wife of Amram;
Gentle she is, and fam'd throughout her tribe
For soft humanity; full well I know
That she will rear him with a mother's love.
[Aside.]
Oh truly spoke! a mother's love indeed!
To her despairing arms I mean to give
This precious trust; the nurse shall be the mother!
PRINCESS.
With speed conduct this matron to the palace.
Yes, I will raise him up to princely greatness,
And he shall be my son; his name be Moses,
For I have drawn him from the perilous flood.
[They go out. She kneels.
Yes, I will raise him up to princely greatness,
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For I have drawn him from the perilous flood.
Thou Great Unseen! who causest gentle deeds,
And smil'st on what thou causest; thus I bless thee,
That thou didst deign consult the tender make
Of yielding human hearts, when thou ordain'd'st
Humanity a virtue! Did'st incline
The nat'ral bias of the soul to mercy,
Then mad'st that mercy duty! Gracious Pow'r!
Mad'st the keen rapture exquisite as right:
Beyond the joys of sense; as pleasure sweet;
As reason constant, and as instinct strong!
And smil'st on what thou causest; thus I bless thee,
That thou didst deign consult the tender make
Of yielding human hearts, when thou ordain'd'st
Humanity a virtue! Did'st incline
The nat'ral bias of the soul to mercy,
Then mad'st that mercy duty! Gracious Pow'r!
Mad'st the keen rapture exquisite as right:
Beyond the joys of sense; as pleasure sweet;
As reason constant, and as instinct strong!
| Moses in the Bulrushes | |