ZULEIKHA: Touch the cup with thy lips!
JOSEPH: Away! My senses reel already! [The vessel is upset.]
ZULEIKHA: [With involuntary violence.] Hapless wretch! What hast thou done?
JOSEPH: Forgive me. Farewell.
ZULEIKHA: Nay, I am not angered. Nay, thou shalt not go. Art thou not in some sort mine? I saved thee from horrible death.
JOSEPH: I have not forgotten.
ZULEIKHA: I fear I saved thee to my sorrow, for thou art glad of thy freedom. Why art thou so glad?
JOSEPH: Is not every man glad of that?
ZULEIKHA: But thine eyes blaze at the word! [Fiercely.] Is there a maid who waiteth for thee in Shechem? [She clasps her hands about his throat.] Lo! I would lock my fingers about her throat as I lock them about thine, and press the life out of her!
JOSEPH: The clinging touch about my throat! Where have I felt it before?
ZULEIKHA: The maid! The maid! Tell me her name, so that I may send out a spell and wither her!
JOSEPH: There is no such maid in Shechem.
ZULEIKHA: Why should I heed her? Why should I be glad there is none? Alas, can'st thou not guess why? —Nay, answer not, lest thou put me to shame!—Yet, if no maid await thee, thou knowest not love, and thou can'st not guess half my sorrow in bondage.
JOSEPH: Wert thou torn from the one thou lovest?
ZULEIKHA: Nay—but the one I love is torn from me.
JOSEPH: That is a riddle!
ZULEIKHA: [She is now in his arms on the couch.] Can'st thou not read the riddle, foolish boy? Oh, see
