Classic Poem

Chapter V

On the next day Pharaoh called a council
Of his mighty men, and before them laid
The message of the brethren: then Amorphel,
Keeper of the palace and nearest lord
Unto the king, arose, and bending low
Before the throne, prayed leave to speak a word.
Amorphel was a crafty, treacherous man,
With oily lips well versed in flattery
And curtly speech, a supple reed ready
To bend before his royal master's lightest
Breath — Pharaoh's willing tool. He said
" Gracious king, thou has been too lenient.
With these slaves; light as their burdens are, they
Fret and chafe beneath them. They are idle
And the blood runs riot in their veins. Now
If thou would'st have those people dwell in peace,
Increase, I pray thee, their tasks and add unto
Their burdens; if they faint beneath their added
Tasks, they will have less time to plot sedition
And revolt. "

Then Rhadma, oldest lord in Pharaoh's court,
Arose. He was an aged man, whose white
And heavy beard hung low upon his breast,
Yet there was a hard cold glitter in his eye,
And on his face a proud and evil look
He had been a servant to the former king,
And wore his signet ring upon his hand
He said, " I know this Moses well. Fourscore
Years ago Princess Charmian found him
By the Nile and rescued him from death, and did
Choose him as her son, and had him versed in all
The mysteries and lore of Egypt. But blood
Will tell, and this base slave, with servile blood
Within his veins, would rather be a servant
Than a prince, and so, with rude and reckless hand,
He thrust aside the honors of our dear
Departed king. Pharaoh was justly wroth,
But for his daughter's sake he let the trespass
Pass. But one day this Moses slew an Egyptian
In his wrath, and then the king did seek his life;
But he fled, it is said, unto the deserts
Of Arabia, and became a shepherd for the priest
Of Midian. But now, instead of leading flocks
And herds, he aspires to lead his captive race
To freedom. These men mean mischief; sedition
And revolt are in their plans. Decree, I pray thee,
That these men shall gather their own straw
And yet their tale of bricks shall be the same. "
And these words pleased Pharaoh well, and all his
Lords chimed in with one accord. And Pharaoh
Wrote the stern decree and sent it unto Goshen —
That the laborers should gather their own straw,
And yet they should not 'minish of their tale of bricks.
'Twas a sad day in Goshen;
The king's decree hung like a gloomy pall
Around their homes. The people fainted 'neath
Their added tasks, then cried unto the king,
That he would ease their burdens; but he hissed
A taunt into their ears and said, " Ye are
Idle, and your minds are filled with vain
And foolish thoughts; get you unto your tasks,
And ye shall not 'minish of your tale of bricks. "
And they turned their eyes
Reproachfully to Moses and his brother,
And laid the cruel blame upon their shoulders
'Tis an old story now, but then 'twas new
Unto the brethren, — how God's anointed ones
Must walk with bleeding feet the paths that turn
To lines of living light; how hands that bring
Salvation in their palms are pierced with cruel
Nails, and lips that quiver first with some great truth
Are steeped in bitterness and tears, and brows
Now bright beneath the aureola of God,
Have bent beneath the thorny crowns of earth
There was no hope for Israel,
But hey did not see the golden fringes
Of their coming morn; they only saw the cold,
Grey sky, and fainted 'neath the cheerless gloom.

Moses sought again the presence of the king:
And Pharaoh's brow grew dark with wrath,
And rising up in angry haste, he said
Defiantly, " If thy God be great, show
Us some sign or token of his power. "
Then Moses threw his rod upon the floor,
And it trembled with a sign of life;
The dark wood glowed, then changed into a thing
Of glistening scales and golden rings, and green
And brown and purple stripes; a hissing, hateful
Thing, that glared its fiery eye, and darting forth
From Moses' side, lay coiled and panting
At the monarch's feet. With wonder open-eyed
The king gazed on the changed rod, then called
For his magicians — wily men, well versed
In sinful lore — and bade them do the same.
And they, leagued with the powers of night, did
Also change their rods to serpents; then Moses'
Serpent darted forth, and with a startling hiss
And angry gulp, he swallowed the living things
That coiled along his path. And thus did Moses
Show that Israel's God had greater power
Than those dark sons of night
But not by this alone
Did God his mighty power reveal: He changed
Their waters; every fountain, well and pool
Was red with blood, and lips, all parched with thirst,
Shrank back in horror from the crimson draughts
And then the worshiped Nile grew full of life:
Millions of frogs swarmed from the stream — they clogged
The pathway of the priests and filled the sacred
Fanes, and crowded into Pharaoh's bed, and hopped
Into his trays of bread, and slumbered in his
Ovens and his pans.

There came another plague, of loathsome vermin;
They were gray and creeping things, that made
Their very clothes alive with dark and sombre
Spots — things of loathsome in the land, they did
Suspend the service of the temple; for no priest
Dared to lift his hand to any god with one
Of those upon him. And then the sky grew
Dark, as if a cloud were passing o'er its
Changeless blue; a buzzing sound broke o'er
The city, and the land was swarmed with flies.
The Murrain laid their cattle low; the hail
Cut off the first fruits of the Nile; the locusts
With their hungry jaws, destroyed the later crops,
And left the ground as brown and bare as if a fire
Had scorched it through
Then angry blains
And fiery boils did blur the flesh of man
And beast; and then for three long days, nor saffron
Tint, nor crimson flush, nor soft and silvery light
Divided day from morn, nor told the passage
Of the hours; men rose not from their seats, but sat
In silent awe. That lengthened night lay like a burden
On the air, — a darkness one might almost gather
In his hand, it was so gross and thick. Then came
The last dread plague — the death of the first born
'Twas midnight,
And a startling shriek rose from each palace,
Home and hut of Egypt, save the blood-besprinkled homes
Of Goshen; the midnight seemed to shiver with a sense
Of dread, as if the mystic angel's wing
Had chilled the very air with horror
Death! Death! was everywhere — in every home
A corpse — in every heart a bitter woe.
There were anxious fingerings for the pulse
That ne'er would throb again, and eager listenings
For some sound of life — a hurrying to and fro —
Then burning kisses on the cold lips
Of the dead, bitter partings, sad farewells,
And mournful sobs and piercing shrieks,
And deep and heavy groans throughout the length
And breadth of Egypt. 'Twas the last dread plague,
But it had snapped in twain the chains on which
The rust of ages lay, and Israel was freed;
Not only freed, but thrust in eager haste
From the land. Trembling men stood by, and longed
To see them gather up their flocks and herds,
And household goods, and leave the land; because they felt
That death stood at their doors as long as Israel
Lingered there; and they went forth in haste,
To tread the paths of freedom.