Pharaoh, (being seated.)—Stand forward, Moses, and ye Hebrew leaders—
Say, wherefore do ye trouble me again
For that which I have sworn by all our Gods
Never to grant while I am king of Egypt?
Arbaces to Moses, observing that he made no obeisance.
And ere thou speakest to thy lord and master,
Unmanner'd peasant, proud rebellious slave,
Crouch to his throne, and gladly do that homage
Which all the brave and highborn in the land,
Honor'd and happy think themselves to render.
Moses.—The base prostration of an abject slave
Can do no honor to a sovereign prince;
As Pharoah's bondman I would not stand here,
But keep aloof, and quietly fold my chains
On arms which could not burst their links asunder;
And as the ambassador of Israel's God,
Call'd by his voice, sustain'd by boundless power,
And prompted by his spirit, ne'er will I
Bend to a sovereign who dishonors mine.
Pharaoh.—Wave we this question now; I stand not here
On points of ceremony—say thy errand.
Moses.—In fear that thou wilt promise as before,
And as before deceive us—yet in hope
That thou mayst profit by the part I speak.
The God we serve hath chosen Israel's children
Forth of this land to spread his name and worship
Throughout the earth—and by my voice he bids thee
Release our tribes from bondage, and permit
Their peaceable departure to the desert.
Pharaoh.—And who is Israel's God, that I should serve him?
Or who the God of Abram, that my kingdom
Should lose a million vassals at his word?
Moses.—Thou askest who is God? and how shall I,
A worm but crawling on his footstool, tell thee?
Or how wilt thou, so blinded by a worship
Degrading beyond utterance, understand?
Were every thought a ray direct from heaven,
And every word an angel's, I might hope—
But, Prince,—the Deity I serve is God
And Lord of Hosts; his name the Great Jehovah,
Supreme, Omniscient, present every where—
Strong to destroy, omnipotent to save.
By his command—the breathing of his will—
Beam'd in existence yonder brilliant orb—
The infinite host of heaven—the fruitful earth
Thou walk'st on and enjoyest, knowing little
Of regions close around thee, and but nothing
Of realms unmatch'd in beauty, which thy sons,
In the hundredth generation, will not see—
Nor dream of their existence. He alone
Can truly claim our gratitude for blessings
Shower'd without stint or measure on our heads,
Love, worship, loyalty, and true obedience,
But mix'd with wholesome fear. Not for thy throne,
With power a hundred fold of that thou hast—
Not for the sway of hosts innumerable
As sands in yonder desert—or the wealth
That earth contains and may produce through ages—
For giant strength, or patriarch's length of days—
Knowing Jehovah, would I tempt his wrath,
Or brave the stroke of his destroying arm.
Pharaoh.—Hast thou e'er seen the God of whom thou speakest?
Moses.—In his essential spiritual being? never!
Nor ever shall, until this mortal frame
Dissolve into the dust from whence it came,
And my emancipated spirit fly:
I trust and hope to dwell with him forever.
But in the unconsum'd, tho' burning bush,
Of which I spake when first I came to thee,
I have beheld the outward manifestation
Of his great presence, and have heard him speak
His holy purpose, and expound to me
What I should say—how plead with thee for freedom.
Pharaoh.—Apis and Isis are the Gods of Egypt—
And many more my ancestors have worshipped;
I too will serve them, nor embrace a faith
Preach'd by a leader of insurgent slaves,
Or such as would be so. But did Jehovah,
The God thou vauntest, prompt thee with a fraud?
Hast thou not striven t' amuse me with the thought
That sacrifice alone required your journey
Into the wilderness? and when deception
Might not avail, hast thou not own'd thy purpose,
And claim'd a right to quit the land forever?