MADAM POTIPHAR. I say it again. Joseph is a scoundrel.
POTIPHAR. You'll have to do more than say it, my dear. What proof have you of his villainy?
MADAM POTIPHAR. I think you might trust to my womanly intuition.
POTIPHAR. Bah! Joseph is going to stay! Do you understand?
He pounds on the table for emphasis. Madam Potiphar takes advantage of the occasion to drop the sandal unnoticed.
MADAM POTIPHAR. Well, you needn't create a domestic scene. Asenath may return at any moment.
POTIPHAR. (gloomily) I believe I'm to take her out in the chariot.
MADAM POTIPHAR. You don't begrudge my guest that much of your attention, do you? You know I cannot bear to ride behind those wild horses of yours. And she said she wanted to see the city.
POTIPHAR. Oh—I'll go. But I must see to my chariot. (He claps his hands. A servant appears, and bows deeply.) Send Joseph here at once.
With another deep bow, the slave disappears. A pause.