Page:Joseph and His Brethren A Pageant Play.djvu/81

JOSEPH AND HIS BRETHREN

Potiphar. Zuleika!

Zuleika. If I give thee my love, to-morrow thou wilt scorn it!

Potiphar. Woman! Thou drivest fear out of my heart, and fillest it with madness!

[He tries to embrace her]

Zuleika. Withdraw thy word from the slave!

Potiphar. That I cannot.

Zuleika [In tears] Scorned!—I am scorned!

Potiphar [Seizing her] Scorned—! Thou art loved! Thou art mine—! Zuleika! Zuleika!

[A trumpet call very near]

Potiphar. What now? [Heavy knocking at door, at R.] Ha!

[Enter Wakara with a torch]

Wakara. The Hebrew slave—

Potiphar [Furious] Joseph!—

[He strides towards the door]

Zuleika [To herself] Joseph—! [With a low laugh] He loveth me!

[Enter Joseph in haste]

Joseph. My lord! My lord!

Potiphar. Accursed slave! What is't?

Joseph. Alas, not my errand, my lord—

Potiphar. Who dares, then—?

Joseph [With a salute] The Pharaoh.

Potiphar [Startled] The Pharaoh—?

Joseph. Imhotep, the Lord Chief Butler, beareth a letter from Pharaoh—

55