University of Virginia Library

3. PART III.

Enter JOCHÈBED.
I've almost reach'd the place—with cautious steps
I must approach to where the ark is laid,
Lest from the royal gardens any spy me.
—Poor babe! e'er this the pressing calls of hunger
Have broke thy short repose; the chilling waves,
Perhaps, have drench'd thy little shiv'ring limbs.
What—what must he have suffer'd!—No one sees me:
But soft, does no one listen?—Ah! how hard,
How very hard for fondness to be prudent!
Now is the moment, to embrace and feed him.
[She looks out.
Where's Miriam? she has left her little charge,
Perhaps through fear, perhaps she was detected.
How wild is thought! how terrible conjecture!
A mother's fondness frames a thousand fears,
And shapes unreal evils into being.
[She looks towards the river.
Ah me! where is he? soul-distracting sight!
He is not there—he's lost, he's gone, he's drown'd!
Toss'd by each beating surge my infant floats;
Cold, cold and wat'ry is thy grave, my child!
O no—I see the ark—Transporting sight!
[She goes towards it
What do I see? Alas, the ark is empty!
The casket's left, the precious gem is gone!
You spar'd him, pitying spirits of the deep!
But vain your mercy; some insatiate beast,
Cruel as Pharaoh, took the life you spar'd—
And I shall never, never see him more!

Enter MIRIAM.
JOCHÈBED.
Come, and lament with me thy brother's loss!

MIRIAM.
Come, and adore with me the God of Jacob!

JOCHÈBED.
Miriam—the child is dead!

MIRIAM.
He lives, he lives!

JOCHÈBED.
Impossible: Oh! do not mock my grief!
See'st thou that empty vessel?

MIRIAM.
From that vessel
Th' Egyptian Princess took him.

JOCHÈBED.
Pharaoh's daughter?
Then still he will be slain.

MIRIAM.
His life is safe,
For know, she means to rear him as her own.

JOCHÈBED.
[Falls on her knees in rapture.
To God the Lord, the glory be ascrib'd!
Oh magnified for ever be thy might,
Who can'st plant mercy in a Heathen's heart,
And from the depth of evil bring forth good!

[She rises.
MIRIAM.
O blest event, beyond our warmest hopes!

JOCHÈBED.
What! shall my son be nurtur'd in a court,
In princely grandeur bred? taught every art,
And every wond'rous science Egypt knows?
Yet ah! I tremble, Miriam; shou'd he learn,
With Egypt's polish'd arts, her baneful faith!
O worse exchange for death! Yes, shou'd he learn
In yon' proud palace to disown his hand
Who thus has sav'd him: shou'd he e'er embrace,
(As sure he will, if bred in Pharaoh's court)
The gross idolatries which Egypt owns,
Her graven images, her brutish gods:
Then shall I wish he had not been preserv'd,
To shame his fathers, and deny his faith.

MIRIAM.
Then, to dispel thy fears, and crown thy joy,
Hear father wonders—Know, the gen'rous Princess
To thy own care thy darling child commits.

JOCHÈBED.
Speak, while my joy will give me leave to listen!

MIRIAM.
By her commission'd, thou behold'st me here,
To seek a matron of the Hebrew race
To nurse him; thou, my mother, art that matron.—
I said, I knew thee well; that thou woud'st rear him
Ev'n with a mother's fondness; she who bare him
(I told the Princess) could not love him more.

JOCHÈBED.
Fountain of Mercy! whose pervading eye
Beholds the heart, and sees what passes there,
Accept my thoughts for thanks! I have no words—
How poor were human language to express
My gratitude, my wonder, and my joy!

MIRIAM.
Yes, thou shalt pour into his infant mind
The purest precepts of the purest faith.

JOCHÉBED.
O! I will fill his tender soul with virtue,
And warm his bosom with devotion's flame!
Aid me, celestial spirit! with thy grace,
And be my labours with thy influence crown'd:
Without it they were vain. Then, then, my Miriam,
When he is furnish'd, 'gainst the evil day,
With God's whole armour , girt with sacred truth,
And as a breast-plate, wearing righteousness,
Arm'd with the spirit of God, the shield of Faith,
And with the helmet of salvation crown'd,
Inur'd to watching and dispos'd to pray'r;
Then may I send him to a dangerous court,
And safely trust him in a perilous world,
Too full of tempting snares and fond delusions!

MIRIAM.
May bounteous Heav'n thy pious cares reward!

JOCHÈBED.
O Amram! O my husband! when thou com'st,
Wearied at night, to rest thee from the toils
Impos'd by haughty Pharaoh; what a tale
Have I to tell thee! yes—thy darling son
Was lost and is restor'd; was dead and lives!

MIRIAM.
How joyful shall we spend the live-long night
In praises to Jehovah; who thus mocks
All human foresight, and converts the means
Of seeming ruin into great deliverance!

JOCHÈBED.
Had not my child been doom'd to such strange perils,
As a fond mother trembles to recal;
He had not been preserv'd.

MIRIAM.
And mark still farther:
Had he been sav'd by any other hand,
He had been still expos'd to equal ruin.

JOCHÈBED.