Joc.

Know this ark is charm'd

With incantations Pharaoh ne'er employ'd;
With spells which impious Egypt never knew:
With invocations to the living God,

I twisted every slender reed together,

And with a prayer did every ozier weave.
Mir. I go.

Joc.

Yet ere thou go'st, observe me well; When thou hast laid him in his wat'ry bed,

Oh leave him not; but at a distance wait,

And mark what Heaven's high will determines for him.

Lay him among the flags on yonder beach,
Just where the royal gardens meet the Nile.
I dare not follow him, Suspicion's eye
Would note my wild demeanour! MIRIAM, yes,
The mother's fondness would betray the child.
Farewell! God of my fathers, oh, protect him!

MOSES IN THE BULRUSHES.

PART II.

Enter MIRIAM, after having deposited the child.

YES, I have laid him in his wat'ry bed,
His wat❜ry grave, I fear! - I tremble still;
It was a cruel task — still I must weep!

But ah! my mother! who shall soothe thy griefs?
The flags and sea-weeds will awhile sustain

Their precious load; but it must sink ere long!

Sweet babe, farewell! yet think not I will leave

thee;

No, I will watch thee till the greedy waves

Devour thy little bark; I'll sit me down,

And sing to thee, sweet babe; thou canst not hear,

But 'twill amuse me, while I watch thy fate.

[She sits down on the bank, and sings.

SONG.
I.

Thou, who canst make the feeble strong,
O God of Israel, hear my song;

Not mine such notes as Egypt's daughters raise;
'Tis thee, O God of Hosts, I strive to praise.

II.

Ye winds, the servants of the Lord,
Ye waves, obedient to his word,

Oh spare the babe committed to your trust;
And Israel shall confess the Lord is just!

III.

Though doom'd to find an early grave, This infant, Lord, thy power can save, And he whose death's decreed by Phraraoh's hand, May rise a prophet to redeem the land.

[She rises and looks out.

What female form bends hitherward her steps, Of royal port she seems; perhaps some friend, Rais'd by the guardian care of bounteous Heav'n, To prop the falling house of Levi. - Soft! I'll listen unperceiv'd; these trees will hide me. [She stands behind.

Enter the PRINCESS of EGYPT, attended by a train of

Ladies.

Prin. No farther, Virgins; here I mean to rest,
To taste the pleasant coolness of the breeze;
Perhaps to bathe in this translucent stream.
Did not our holy law enjoin th' ablution
Frequent and regular, it still were needful
To mitigate the fervours of our clime.
MELITA, stay the rest at distance wait.

[They all go out, except one.

* The ancient Egyptians used to wash their bodies four times

every twenty-four hours.

[The PRINCESS looks out.

Sure, or I much mistake, or I perceive
Upon the sedgy margin of the Nile
A chest; entangled in the reeds it seems:
Discern'st thou aught?

Mel.
Something, but what I know not.
Prin. Go and examine what this sight may mean.

[Exit Maid. Mir. [behind.] O blest, beyond my hopes! he is

discover'd;

My brother will be sav'd! who is this stranger?
Ah! 'tis the Princess, cruel Pharaoh's daughter.
If she resemble her inhuman sire,

She must be cruel too; yet fame reports her
Most merciful and mild. - Great Lord of all,
By whose good Spirit bounteous thoughts are given,
And deeds of love perform'd - be gracious now,
And touch her soul with mercy!

Prin.

Re-enter MElita.

Well, Melita!

Hast thou discover'd what the vessel is?

Mel. Oh, Princess, I have seen the strangest sight! Within the vessel lies a sleeping babe,

A fairer infant have I never seen!

Prin. Who knows but some unhappy Hebrew

woman

Has thus expos'd her infant, to evade
The stern decree of my too cruel sire.
Unhappy mothers! oft my heart has bled
In secret anguish o'er your slaughter'd sons;
Powerless to save, yet hating to destroy.

Mel. Should this be so, my Princess knows the danger.

Prin. No danger should deter from acts of mercy. Mir. [behind.] A thousand blessings on her princely

head!

Prin. Too much the sons of Jacob have endur'd From royal Pharaoh's unrelenting hate;

Too much our house has crush'd their alien race.
Is't not enough that cruel task-masters

Grind them by hard oppression? not enough
That iron bondage bows their spirits down?
Is't not enough my sire his greatness owes,

Those structures which the world with wonder views,
His palaces, his fanes magnificent,

To much insulted Israel's patient race?

To them his growing cities owe their splendour;
Their toils fair Rameses and Pythom built;
And shall we fill the measure of our crimes,
And crown our guilt with murder? and shall I
Sanction the sin I hate? forbid it mercy !

Mel. I know thy royal father fears the strength Of this still growing race, who flourish more

The more they are oppress'd: he dreads their numbers.

Prin. Apis forbid! Pharaoh afraid of Israel! Yet should this outcast race, this hapless people, E'er grow to such a formidable greatness, (Which all the gods avert whom Egypt worships,) This infant's life can never serve their cause, Nor can his single death prevent their greatness.

Mel. Trust not to that vain hope. By weakest means And most unlikely instruments, full oft