PAGE 7
The Chaste Adventures Of Joseph: A Comedy
by
Can’t you guess?
At this moment Joseph drops the coin from his hand,
and it rolls away. Joseph starts, looks after it,
and goes across the room to pick it up.
JOSEPH.
One must take care of the small coins!
MADAM POTIPHAR.
( angrily )
Oh!
She flings off to the window, Joseph returns and seats himself on the little stool at the nearer end of the table, with a papyrus in front of him. He reads it in silence. Madam Potiphar comes and seats herself on the table, and looks down at him. He continues to study the papyrus. She leans over to see what he is doing, and then, as he pays no attention, she turns so that she is reclining prone along its length, facing him, her chin in her hands, one foot idly waving in the air.
MADAM POTIPHAR.
( gently )
Am I bothering you?
JOSEPH.
Not at all.
MADAM POTIPHAR.
I like to watch you work.
JOSEPH.
I don’t mind.
MADAM POTIPHAR.
You are very interesting to look at, do you know?
JOSEPH.
( absently )
Yes, I know.
MADAM POTIPHAR.
Little egotist!
JOSEPH.
( unperturbed )
Yes.
He rises and seats himself at the side of the table. Propping his papyrus against the reclining body of Madam Potiphar, he takes a new sheet of papyrus, and commences to copy a passage.
MADAM POTIPHAR.
( wriggling about to look at him )
What are you copying?
JOSEPH.
Be careful. Don’t jiggle my manuscript, please!
MADAM POTIPHAR.
I asked, what are you copying?
JOSEPH.
I am copying some inaccurate information about the climate of Egypt, with reference to the yearly crop-yield. . . . I wonder if there is any one in Egypt who has exact information on that subject? . . .
MADAM POTIPHAR.
The yearly crop-yield! What do you care about the yearly crop-yield?
JOSEPH.
Never mind. You wouldn’t understand if I told you.
MADAM POTIPHAR.
You are quite right. Besides, I didn’t come here to talk about crops.
JOSEPH.
( writing )
No. You came here to talk about me.
MADAM POTIPHAR.
I came here to talk about my cousin Asenath. You knew she was coming–why didn’t you tell me you had been in service in her father’s household in Heliopolis?
JOSEPH.
( writing )
It wasn’t necessary for me to tell you. I knew she would.
MADAM POTIPHAR.
No doubt you think we sat there all the time
she was combing her hair, and talked about you!
JOSEPH.
( writing )
Precisely.
MADAM POTIPHAR.
I suppose you know she is crazy about you!
JOSEPH.
( still writing )
Is she?
MADAM POTIPHAR.
She doesn’t put it just that way.
She says she takes an interest in your future.
JOSEPH.
( continuing to work )
She doesn’t take half as much interest in it as I do.
MADAM POTIPHAR.
She told me your romantic story: how you had been sold by your brothers into slavery because you wore a coat of many colours. Joseph, did you wear a coat of many colours? That seems a curious thing for any one to be angry about.