Page:Joseph and His Brethren A Pageant Play.djvu/90

 They are, my lord.

Here I myself will keep watch.

[Mysteriously] My lord,—I take my life in my hands to speak—

Well?

[Nearer] Let me whisper, my lord:—The lord Serseru—

The Lord Chief Baker—? What of him?

He and another.

What other?

Ranofer—the treasurer—

What of them?

They are ever in close talk—my fellows have heard—and their talk means death—

To me?

I dare scarce breathe the name:—Lord Usertesen, the Pharaoh.

[Concealing his horror] Thy fellows bring thee broken words—and thou weavest a tale—!

Let not my lord's wrath be kindled—!

Get thee to thy watch.

[To ] Lo!—a messenger.

Whence art thou?

[Saluting] From the lord Potiphar.

[Eagerly] Quickly, thy news!

[Producing the clay letter] My first errand was to the Pharaoh. This for thee.

Ho! a torch!— [He reads: "Potiphar, the servant of the Pharaoh, by the hand of Neb, the scribe, to Joseph, the son of Jacob, greeting. The rebels are