"The Chaste Adventures of Joseph" was first produced at the Liberal
Club, New York City, in 1914, with the following cast:
Madam Potiphar ....... Louise Murphy
Asenath .............. Marjorie Jones
Potiphar ............. Berkeley Tobey
Joseph ............... Floyd Dell
Slave ................ Maurice Becker
_A room in Potiphar's house. It is sparingly furnished with a table,
two stools, and a couch, all in the simpler style of the early
dynasties.... The table, which is set at an angle, is piled with
papyri, and one papyrus is half-unrolled and held open by paper-weights
where somebody has been reading it.... There is a small window in one
wall, opening on the pomegranate garden. At the back, between two heavy
pillars, is a doorway.... Two women are heard to pass, laughing and
talking, through the corridor outside, and pause at the doorway. One of
them looks in curiously_.
THE LADY. Such a lovely house, Madam Potiphar!--But what is this quiet
room? Your husband's study?
MADAM POTIPHAR. (_coming in_) Oh, this is nothing--merely the room
of one of the slaves. Come, dear Cousin Asenath, and I will show you
the garden. The pomegranates are just beginning to blossom.
ASENATH. The room of a slave? Indeed! He seems to be an educated
person!
MADAM POTIPHAR. Educated? Oh, yes--he is a sort of book-keeper for
Potiphar. At least, that is what he is supposed to be. But he is never
on hand when he is wanted. If he were here, we might get him to show us
through the vineyard.
ASENATH. Why not send for him? I would love to see the vineyard before
your husband takes me out in the chariot.
MADAM POTIPHAR. (_ironically_) Send for Joseph? It would be
useless. Joseph has affairs of his own on hand, always.
ASENATH. (_startled_) Joseph! Is that his name?
MADAM POTIPHAR. Yes--"Joseph." An ugly, foreign-sounding name, don't
you think?
ASENATH. It is rather an odd name--but I've heard it before. It was the
name of a youth who used to be one of my father's slaves in Heliopolis.
MADAM POTIPHAR. Heliopolis? I wonder--what was he like?
ASENATH. Oh, he was a pretty boy, with nice manners.
MADAM POTIPHAR. I thought for a moment it might be the same one. But
this Joseph is an ill-favoured creature--and insolent. . . . What
colour was his hair?
ASENATH. I really don't remember. It's been a year since he was
there.... You have a _lovely_ house, my dear. I'm _so_ glad I
came to see you!
MADAM POTIPHAR. (_also willing to change the subject_) It's nice
to see you again, dear Asenath. We haven't seen each other since we
were little girls. Do you remember how we played together in the
date-orchard? And the long, long talks we had?
ASENATH. Don't let's be sentimental about our childhood!
MADAM POTIPHAR. Do you remember how we talked about being married?
(_Asenath goes to the little window_.) We hated all men, as I
remember.
ASENATH. I was eight years old then. . . . Who is that handsome young
man I see out there?
MADAM POTIPHAR. In the garden?
ASENATH. Yes.
_Madam Potiphar comes to the window_.
MADAM POTIPHAR. That--that is the slave we were speaking of. . . .
ASENATH. Joseph? . . . I wonder if it _is_ the same one? . . .
MADAM POTIPHAR. Well--and what if it were?
ASENATH. He was really a very interesting young man. . . .
MADAM POTIPHAR. If you are so anxious to find out, why don't you go and
talk to him?
ASENATH. (_coolly_) I think I shall.
_She starts toward the door_.
MADAM POTIPHAR. (_shocked_) Asenath! You, a daughter of the High
Priest of Heliopolis--
ASENATH. As such, I am quite accustomed to doing as I please.
_She goes out_.
MADAM POTIPHAR. (_looking amusedly after her_) Silly little thing!
(_She stands there thinking_.) There's no doubt of it! Joseph did
come from Heliopolis last year. But what have I to be afraid of?
(_She sees a pair of sandals on the floor by the table. She picks one
of them up, and kisses it passionately, whispering_)--Joseph!
_Enter Potiphar. Madam Potiphar puts the sandal behind her back_.
POTIPHAR. (_a dull, dignified gentleman_) Oh, here's where you
are! I was looking everywhere for you. But where's your cousin?
MADAM POTIPHAR. She will be back in a moment. I brought her here to
show her the educated slave of whom you are so proud, at work. But he
is away somewhere, as usual.
POTIPHAR. (_defensively_) He has other duties.
MADAM POTIPHAR. Oh, yes, no doubt!
POTIPHAR. What's the matter now?
MADAM POTIPHAR. Nothing new. You know what I think about this Joseph of
yours.
POTIPHAR. (_irritated_) Now, if you are going to bring that
subject up again--! Well, I tell you flatly, I won't do it.
MADAM POTIPHAR. You'd better take my advice!
POTIPHAR. It's the most unreasonable thing I ever heard of! For the
first time in my life I get an efficient secretary--and you want me to
get rid of him. It's ridiculous. What have you against Joseph, anyway?
MADAM POTIPHAR. I--I don't think he's honest.
POTIPHAR. Honest! Who expects the secretary of a government official to
be honest? I don't want an honest man in charge of my affairs--all I
want is a capable one. Besides, how would I know whether he is honest
or not? I can't bother to go over his accounts, and I couldn't
understand them if I did. Mathematics, my dear, is not an art that
high-class Egyptians excel in. It takes slaves and Hebrews for that.
MADAM POTIPHAR. Well, just because he is able to add up a row of
figures is no reason why he should be so high-handed with everybody.
One would think he was the master here, instead of a slave.
POTIPHAR. A private secretary, my dear, is different from an ordinary
slave. You mustn't expect him to behave like a doorkeeper. I remember
now, he complained that you kept wanting him to run errands for you.
MADAM POTIPHAR. Yes, and he refused--in the most insolent manner. He is
a proud and scheming man, I tell you. I am sure he is plotting some
villainy against you.
POTIPHAR. (_wearily_) Yes, you have said that before.
MADAM POTIPHAR. I say it again. Joseph is a scoundrel.
POTIPHAR. You'll have to do more than say it, my dear. What proof have
you of his villainy?
MADAM POTIPHAR. I think you might trust to my womanly intuition.
POTIPHAR. Bah! Joseph is going to stay! Do you understand?
_He pounds on the table for emphasis. Madam Potiphar takes advantage
of the occasion to drop the sandal unnoticed_.
MADAM POTIPHAR. Well, you needn't create a domestic scene. Asenath may
return at any moment.
POTIPHAR. (_gloomily_) I believe I'm to take her out in the chariot.
MADAM POTIPHAR. You don't begrudge my guest that much of your
attention, do you? You know I cannot bear to ride behind those wild
horses of yours. And she said she wanted to see the city.
POTIPHAR. Oh--I'll go. But I must see to my chariot. (_He claps his
hands. A servant appears, and bows deeply_.) Send Joseph here at once.
_With another deep bow, the slave disappears. A pause_.
MADAM POTIPHAR. Now you know what it is to have your slave off
attending to some business of his own when you want him.
POTIPHAR. (_annoyed_) Where can he be?
_Enter Joseph_.
JOSEPH. (_ignoring Madam Potiphar, and making a slight bow to
Potiphar_) Here I am, sir.
POTIPHAR. (_after a triumphant glance at his wife_) Have my chariot
made ready for me, will you?
JOSEPH. It will give me great pleasure to do so, sir.
_He bows slightly, and goes out_.
MADAM POTIPHAR. Did you notice his insolence?
POTIPHAR. There you go again! He said he was glad to do it for me. What
more do you want?
MADAM POTIPHAR. You are the stupidest man in Egypt.
POTIPHAR. Thank you, my dear.
_Joseph returns_.
POTIPHAR. Is the chariot ready so soon, Joseph?
JOSEPH. The chariot is quite ready.
POTIPHAR. Very well. (_A pause_) And are those accounts finished yet,
Joseph?
JOSEPH. The accounts are quite finished. And I would like to suggest,
if I may--
_He is interrupted by the re-entrance of Asenath_.
ASENATH. What a lovely garden you have!
MADAM POTIPHAR. (_significantly_) Yes!
ASENATH. The pomegranate blossoms are so beautiful!
MADAM POTIPHAR. You could hardly tear yourself away, could you?
POTIPHAR. (_with a patient smile_) And are you ready for your chariot
ride now?
ASENATH. Oh, yes! I am so eager to see the city! But I fear my hair
needs a touch or two, first. . . .
MADAM POTIPHAR. It is so hard to keep one's hair in order when one
walks in the garden. I will take you to my room, dear Asenath. (_To
Potiphar_) We shall be ready presently.
POTIPHAR. The horses are waiting!
ASENATH. It won't take me but a moment!
MADAM POTIPHAR. Come, my dear. (_They go toward the door_.) I am so
glad you liked our garden--
_They go out_.
POTIPHAR. (_turning to Joseph_) What were you going to say, Joseph?
JOSEPH. You asked me about my accounts. I was about to suggest that I
show them to you tonight, when you return from your ride.
POTIPHAR. (_alarmed_) No! No! I don't want to see them. . . . I
just want to know that everything is getting on well.
JOSEPH. Everything is getting along quite well.
POTIPHAR. Very good. I have complete confidence in you. . . . Joseph--
you have a mathematical mind; how long would you say it would take a
woman to do her hair?
JOSEPH. Not less than half an hour, sir--especially if she has
something to talk about with another woman while she is doing it.
POTIPHAR. (_surprised_) What should _they_ have to talk about?
JOSEPH. Secrets.
POTIPHAR. Secrets?
JOSEPH. What things are women especially interested in, sir?
POTIPHAR. Dress, perhaps?
JOSEPH. Perhaps.
POTIPHAR. Housekeeping?
JOSEPH. I doubt it, sir.
POTIPHAR. Joseph, you perturb me. Besides food and dress, there is only
one subject, so far as I am aware, of interest to women. I hope you do
not imply--
JOSEPH. Far be it from me, sir, to indulge in implications, with
respect to an honoured guest, in the household in which I am a slave.
POTIPHAR. Still--it is hard to tell, sometimes. Women are mysterious
creatures. What do _you_ think of them, Joseph?
JOSEPH. I try not to, sir.
POTIPHAR. You are a wise man. Yes, I suppose you have your
difficulties, too. The morality of the slave-girls is not all it should
be. But if you will believe me, the morality of our women, too--
JOSEPH. Ah, sir!
POTIPHAR. Yes, Joseph, it leaves something to be desired. If you knew
the advances that have been made to me by certain great ladies--
JOSEPH. If you will permit me to say so, sir, you have my sympathy.
POTIPHAR. Joseph--women are the very devil, aren't they?
JOSEPH. They are a great trial, sir. One must learn the secret of
dealing with them.
POTIPHAR. Do _you_ know that secret?
JOSEPH. I do, sir.
POTIPHAR. I am inclined to believe that you really do. You are a
remarkable man. But then, you have a naturally cold disposition. It
must come easy to you.
JOSEPH. Not so easy as you may think, sir. Temperamentally, I am very
susceptible to the charms of women.
POTIPHAR. Then you are more remarkable even than I thought. Come, what
_is_ your secret?
JOSEPH. It is not the sort of secret that one gives away for nothing,
sir.
POTIPHAR. I am sorry to see you display such a mercenary disposition,
Joseph. But I see that I must come to terms with you. How much will you
take to teach me your secret?
JOSEPH. This time, sir, I will not be mercenary. I will make you a
sporting proposition.
POTIPHAR. (_very much interested_) Good! What is it?
JOSEPH. I will toss up a coin, and let you call it. If you win, I will
teach you the secret for nothing. And if you lose--