Authors: Bernard Evslin
They returned, and she called Joseph to her. She smiled, and he trembled at her smile. “Your fears were groundless,” she said. “The snakes did not bite me.”
“I am delighted, my lady.”
“But I was never in much danger, was I?” He said nothing. She said: “That night after the ceremony I bade my handmaid tease the cobras until they struck. She almost died of fright but took no other harm. You disobeyed me, did you not?”
“I obeyed your husband.”
“You defied my express command and mutilated the sacred serpents, nullifying them, transforming them from lords of the hidden way into earthworms.”
Joseph bowed. “Forgive me, my lady.”
“Forgive you? Is it possible? I dreamed a dream. I was flogging you and you knelt bleeding before me. And, lo, the whip became a snake that turned and bit me. I felt its venom running through my blood, but it did not kill me. It was a sweet venom, kindling my blood. And I burned. Belly, breasts, thighs, I burned. And you arose and put your hand on me. And your touch was like ice, quenching the fire. Read the dream, barbarian.”
“Alas, I cannot.”
“No? You read the dreams of all my slaves. Do you refuse to read mine? Shall I indeed flog you to death with my own hands?”
“I am in your power.”
“Your eyes are like those gems called chrysoprase. Lie with me.”
“I may not.”
“You mean, you will not.”
“Your husband has exalted me, trusted me. Can I steal that which he values most?”
“Your scruples are praiseworthy. Lie with me.”
“Alas, my lady—”
“I have a brooch of chrysoprase, but its gems are not quite the green of your eyes. It has a long copper pin, that brooch, good for gouging eyes out of heads. I can do that, too, you know.”
“I know, my lady. Your husband has looked upon me with favor, and I have prospered. But never for a moment have I forgotten that I am a slave in Egypt.”
“Slaves must do as they are told. Lie with me.”
“How can I do this great wickedness?’
“I will protect you from his wrath.”
“Who shall protect me from the wrath of God?”
“Forget that disagreeable god of yours. He has certainly forgotten you. Come, little serpent, I am Edju, your princess, your holy nest, your cave of delight. Come lie with me, and we shall sleep the sweet, braided sleep of winter.”
She seized his garment and tried to pull him into her embrace. When he did not come to her, she ripped it off his body. He fled. She called to the sentries, who rushed to her chamber. She said: “See, my husband has brought a Hebrew to us to mock us. He came to my chamber to lie with me, and I cried out with a loud voice. When he heard me cry out, he fled, leaving his garment in my hand.”
When Potiphar came home, she showed him Joseph’s garment and said: “That Hebrew of yours, the little favorite, the trusted one, came in to mock me, saying, ‘Your husband has put all that he has into my hands, and that includes you. Let us lie together, for you are young and I am young, and he is old.’ And when I raised my voice and called out to the men, he fled, leaving his garment in my hand.”
Potiphar listened to his wife’s tale, then said: “You have handled matters with your customary skill, my dear. Now I will take care of the rest.”
“What will you do?”
“I have not decided. But you can be certain that he will not trouble you again.”
Potiphar summoned Joseph to him and said: “You know of what my wife accuses you.”
“Master, I am innocent.”
“Of what?”
“Of whatever she accuses me.”
“I know who tried to rape whom,” said Potiphar. “But that makes your crime even more intolerable.”
“What crime, Excellency?”
“Why, the crime of being more attractive to your master’s wife than your master is. She would never dream of tearing off
my
clothes, not in a thousand years. Which, incidentally, is the age you make me feel.”
“I am innocent.”
“You are guilty. You have dared to be more richly endowed than I am in a most vital area. My household is a small but highly placed social structure. You have turned it upside down. In this sphere you are a revolutionary. And you know the punishment for fomenting social disorder.”
“You would impale me?”
“That is the punishment demanded by law.”
“If I have done you any service, O Potiphar, grant me a painless death.”
“I can’t quite bring myself to do that,” said Potiphar. “But, in recognition of your remarkable services, I grant you a painful life. Painful, filthy, confining. The alternative to impalement is imprisonment.”
“Thank you, Master.”
“You may be choosing unwisely. Impalement is uncomfortable but lasts only a few hours. You may rot in prison for forty or fifty years.”
Joseph bowed. Potiphar smiled. And Joseph was cast into prison.
The Reader of Dreams
He was taken to a dungeon made of stone, standing at the desert’s edge under the roasting sun. It was one great room without windows, and its door was a slab of rock. Iron rings were set into the wall, and men were shackled to these rings by their ankles. They lay on dirty straw and waited to be fed. Food was shoved through the door, and it was wormy and foul. But they fell on it like wild animals, devouring it and shrieking for more. And they sank back upon the straw and waited for the next day’s meal.
Joseph called upon his God, who answered, saying, “Joseph … are you brought low?”
“I never rose very high, O Lord. A slave exalted is still a slave. O God of my fathers, help me again. You who brought me up out of the pit, who saved me from the taskmaster’s lash, help me now in this vile place.”
“Do you remember the words I spoke when you wore a copper collar and called to me out of the camel train?”
“I have remembered your words, O Lord, and do not indulge in self-pity.”
“Look about you. Here are others who suffer exceedingly. They need your help. I am the All-Father and my children call unto me, and I shed my mercy upon the merciful.”
Joseph sent a message to the keeper. “I have been sent to change your fortune. Put out your hand, and I will fill it with gold.”
The keeper sent his guards, and Joseph was brought before him. “Impudent slave!” he cried. “How dare you offer me a bribe when you have no money. You were searched when you came here and have nothing.”
Joseph tapped his head and said: “Behold my treasure house, O keeper. In it now is an idea that will fill your coffers many times over. And it will cost you nothing but a little patience, as I explain.”
“Speak.”
“You receive a fixed sum of money for the keep of each prisoner. You pocket most of the money; with the rest you provide starvation rations—until your prisoners die. All wrong, my lord. You should not be feeding the prisoners at all. They should be feeding you.”
“Your words have no meaning for me.”
“They will. They will. You have heard of me. You know that I was Potiphar’s chief man of business and that his affairs prospered under my management. So I am a man of capacity, not a fool or idle chatterer. Hear, O keeper. Treat your prisoners like men, not like beasts. Unshackle them. Feed them decent food. Allow them exercise in the open air. And—put them to work. Many of them are able men. Farmers, fishermen, makers of tools and weapons, artificers of all kinds. You will sell what they make, and your return will be many times what you can keep out of their food allowance.”
“I propose a bargain,” said the keeper. “I will put you in charge of the prisoners. If you can make a skilled work force out of these stinking skeletons, then I will permit you to oversee their labors and market their wares. But if at the end of three months’ time you do not show a handsome profit, then you shall suffer most painfully. Do you agree?”
“You will never regret this bargain.”
“If I do, you will regret it even more.”
The keeper put Joseph over the prisoners and allowed him to order things as he wished. And it all happened just as Joseph had promised. The prisoners became healthy men, working in the open air and confined only to the prison grounds. They worked hard at their different trades under Joseph’s eye, and he sold what they made and gave the money to the keeper, who was very content.
It came to pass that the butler and baker who served Pharaoh fell into disfavor and were cast into prison. Joseph saw that they were able men and put the butler in charge of wine making and the baker in charge of cooking and baking. And it happened that they both dreamed a dream on the same night. When Joseph saw them the next morning, he said: “Why do you look so sad?”
“I have dreamed a dream,” said the baker. “And he has, also. We do not know what our dreams mean—but they are full of foreboding.”
“God sends dreams,” said Joseph. “He sometimes allows their meaning to be revealed and sometimes does not. Tell me your dreams.”
The chief butler said: “I saw a vine with three branches. The vine was budding, and blossoms shot forth and became clusters of grapes. Pharaoh’s cup was in my hand, and I took the grapes and pressed them into his cup, and gave the cup into his hand.”
“This is the interpretation,” said Joseph. “The three branches are three days. In three days Pharaoh shall lift you up again and restore you to your place. And you shall give the royal cup into his hand as you did before.… I pray you think of me when you are restored to your place. And do me this kindness. Mention me to Pharaoh so that he may deliver me from prison. For, believe me, I have done nothing to deserve imprisonment.”
“Tell me what my dream means,” cried the baker. “Lo, I stood with three white baskets on my head. In the top basket were all manner of cakes and loaves that I had baked for Pharaoh. Then birds swooped down and ate the cakes and loaves right out of the basket. What does it mean? Shall I be restored to my place, also?”
“The three baskets are three days,” said Joseph. “In three days Pharaoh shall cut your head off and hang you on a tree, and the birds shall eat the flesh from your bones.”
The baker fell to his knees, gibbering with fear. “How do you know you’re right?” he cried.
“Let us hope I am wrong,” said Joseph. And he went to select another man to do the baking.
Three days passed, and it was Pharaoh’s birthday. A great feast was held. To mark his birthday, he pardoned his chief butler and ordered him released from prison and restored to his place. The man was Pharaoh’s cupbearer again and poured wine into the royal cup. And Pharaoh ordered his baker to be hanged, as Joseph had foretold. But the butler did not remember Joseph and did not speak his name to Pharaoh.
One night Pharaoh dreamed a dream. He was standing at the river’s edge; out of the river came seven fat cows and grazed on the meadow.
Then he saw seven other cows in the reeds, but these were ugly and bony. They leaped out of the reeds like wolves and attacked the fat cows and ate them up. Pharaoh awoke and tried to fathom the dream but could not, and slept again. He dreamed again. He was in a field. Before his eyes seven ears of corn sprouted out on one stalk; they were ripe and full of kernels. Then, as he watched, seven thin ears of corn sprouted, and they were mean and dry, blasted by the east wind. They crawled off their stalks like great green insects and seized the seven fat ears of corn and devoured them.
Pharaoh awoke and could not sleep again. In the morning he called for all the magicians and wise men of Egypt, for he could not forget the two dreams and was troubled in spirit. He told his dreams. The magicians listened, and the wise men. They listened and pondered, but no one could tell him what the dreams meant. And Pharaoh was angry, and all men trembled.
Then the chief butler spoke: “O King, forgive me for speaking. But when I was in prison with the baker, we each dreamed a dream on the same night and we did not know what our dreams meant. But in that prison was a young man, a Hebrew, who was the keeper’s chief man and did all the business of the place. We told him our dreams and he interpreted them, reading the events according to his wisdom. He told me that I would be restored to my place in three days, and he told the baker that in three days he would lose his head. And it all came to pass.”
Pharaoh heard the words of the butler and ordered Joseph to be taken from prison and brought to the court. When the keeper heard the news, he shot orders in all directions and told Joseph to shave himself and bathe himself, and gave Joseph fresh garments to wear out of his own wardrobe. And Joseph went to court.
Pharaoh received him in private and said: “I dreamed twice last night, and the dreams trouble me. I do not know what they mean, but they vex my spirit. I have told them to all the magicians and all the wise men of my court, and no one can interpret them. But I hear that you have a special understanding of those sleep visions that men call dreams.”
“O great Pharaoh,” said Joseph, “I am honored to serve you. But it is God who sends us dreams. Sometimes He allows their meaning to be revealed, other times He does not. Be gracious enough to relate to me what you beheld in your sleep, and I shall attempt to read it.”
Pharaoh told Joseph what he had dreamed—how the seven lean cows had devoured the seven fat cows, and how the seven blasted ears of corn had eaten the seven fat ears. Joseph said: “Pharaoh, your two dreams are one. God has spoken twice in a single night to warn you of His intention. I can read that intention, if you wish.”
“Speak,” said Pharaoh.
“The seven fat cows are seven years, and the seven fat stalks of corn are seven years. The dreams are one. The seven thin and wolfish cows are seven years, and the seven wind-blasted stalks are seven years, and these are years of famine. And this is God’s intention, which He has announced to you in the watches of the night. The next seven years shall be years of great plenty throughout all the land of Egypt. Good crops you shall have; your cattle shall graze and grow fat. And the land shall prosper. But after that seven years of plenty shall come seven years of famine. No rain shall fall. The east wind shall blow, withering the corn in the ear. The grass shall fail and cattle die. There shall be hunger in the land. The famine shall be so terrible that the years of plenty shall be forgotten.”