A king calls for his son in vain.
Moses
[To himself.] So, sister Miriam, it is known then. Slave, you die.
[Aloud.] O, you ambiguous stench,
You’ll be more interesting as a mummy
I have no doubt.
Abinoah
I’m drunk, yes—drenched with the thought
Of a certain thing. [Aside.] I’ll sleep sounder to-night
Than all the nights I’ve followed him about