JOSEPH. You think that I am a hard man—and so I am. But when I look at you, I tremble and grow weak. My knees are become as water, and the blood roaring in my veins confuses me.
ASENATH. Can I, a mere woman, so disturb you?
JOSEPH. You have more than a mere woman's beauty. Your hands are lotus petals. Your eyes are silver fireflies mirrored in a pool. Your breasts are white birds nestling behind the leaves of a pomegranate tree.
ASENATH. You have a smooth tongue, Joseph! One would think you really were in love at last. . . .
JOSEPH. I love you more than anything else in the world. You mean more to me than power, more than riches, more than freedom itself.
ASENATH. I could almost believe that you are in earnest. . . .
JOSEPH. Tell me, O lovely creature for whom my soul and body thirst, how can I prove my sincerity? What proof can I give you?
ASENATH. You can give me—that ring!
She points to the ring which Potiphar has given him.
JOSEPH. (looking at her, then at the ring, takes it off, saying)—
Freedom!