# Edmund Dulac's picture-book for the French Red Cross/Jusef and Asenath

JUSEF AND ASENATH
A LOVE STORY OF EGYPT
The loves of Jusef and Asenath which ran not smooth! Deep is the poet's singing thereon, and sweet is the song that is sung.
In the days of old, even on a day when Jusef, having interpreted the dream of Egypt's king, set forth through the whole land to gather the plenteous harvest against the seven years of famine to come, a beautiful maiden named Asenath sat in the tower of her father's palace surrounded by seven damsels whose beauty was rare, though it paled before that of Asenath herself. She had chosen these damsels from the multitudes of Syria and Egypt and Arabia — a choice beset with difficulty, for each one of them was neither older nor younger than Asenath, having been born in the selfsame midnight hour, though in places far distant beneath the moon.
'Think not,' she was saying to them, 'that my father Putiphra, priest of Heliopolis and satrap of Pharaoh though he be, can say to me, "This man shalt thou love," or, "That man shall take thee to wife." Nay, the heart of Asenath is her own, and it goes not out to any man, be he the greatest in the land or so beautiful that the stars bow down before him. True, my father is a good man and just, yet would not I obey him in such a matter, for, in the first place, my dead mother's words are locked in my bosom. "My daughter," she said, "although thy father is of Egypt, thou art not, as I am not. I, a Hebrew of Syria, descended from Zedekiah, in the region beyond the Euphrates, did spoil the Egyptians of thee, by thy very birth from me. See to it, therefore, that thou take no prince of the land of Pharaoh to thy bosom, but rather one of my own Hebrew blood, which has flowed through Syria to the east, and, having at length ​sat on the throne of Egypt, will rise from the ends of the earth to vanquish Syria in the west." Do ye comprehend this?'
'O Asenath, we bow before thee. Thy beauty would burn the heart of the mightiest in the land.'
'Nay, I shall ever shun such fires. In that respect my mother's words take no hold upon me. For that was in the first place; in the second place, my mother's words counselling me to shun the Egyptian and wed one of her own blood mean naught to me, since I would of my own accord shun all men, both Hebrew and Egyptian.'
The seven damsels looked at one another in silence. At last one, a dark-eyed Syrian, leaned forward and spoke:
'O Asenath, hear me! Hast thou never felt a strange voice in thy heart calling for eyes like thine, and lips like wine, and strong arms to gather thee close and crush thee like a flower?'
'Never have I. Hast thou, Ashtar?'
'Never. Yet I have heard it sung in songs, when I doubt not it is the sweet music only that holds one in a close embrace till the heart beats wildly and——'
'Stay thy tongue, Ashtar, broke in Asenath with scorn. 'Thy words strike upon the back of my head, and fall at my heels. I see the light of madness in thine eyes.'
And Ashtar, withered by her glance, hid her face in her hands and drowned that light of madness in a storm of tears.
'Tush, girl!' said Asenath, 'surely thou hast gone from thy mind to speak such words.' The others sat mute and still, fearing to sympathise with Ashtar lest they should arouse their mistress's anger still further. And yet each maiden leaned her body and turned her eyes a little—a very little—towards the culprit, for she had spoken bold words which they had never dared to frame.
'Look you,' cried Asenath, raising herself and speaking high, 'this day I learn that the first-born of Pharaoh hath desired me as wife. But I will none of him. I told his messenger that the king of Egypt would desire a greater personage than I as his son's wife, and therefore he had best look to the king of Moab, whose daughter ​is not only beautiful, but a queen. Faugh! I will none of them. I am a maiden, and a maiden I will remain.'
Now, although Asenath treasured her mother's memory, and for Hebrew loveliness was as beautiful as Rachel; although she liked not the Egyptians and their rule, yet, perforce, she knew no other religion than theirs. Her father had brought her up in the worship and fear of the Egyptian gods. Every day she repaired to the highest story of the tower, where, in the central chamber of twelve—a chamber splendidly adorned with rare stones of many colours and workmanship—those gods, who were many, were wrought in silver and gold, even upon the purple ceiling. There, day by day, she worshipped and feared and paid them sacrifice. This done, she would retire into a luxurious chamber which had a great window looking towards the east, and there she would sit and muse and ponder, gazing out beyond the palace courtyard and away to the lonely waters of the Nile, now plying her needle on delicate embroideries which she loved, and now playing sweet music on her lute and singing to the silver moon. Always her damsels were about her; and always the feet of men, for whom she had neither love nor fear, trod far below in the ways of the city, no foot among those thousands ever destined to tread the marble stairway leading to her palace tower.
Rich and rare were the priceless things the twelve chambers contained. Apart from treasure-rooms stocked with precious stones and rare ornaments and linen and silk of striking splendour there were broad balconies and pillared alcoves where the soft breezes rustled in the branches of great palms and the spray of clear fountains sparkled in the sunlight ere it fell to rest on a bed of moss or strayed further to caress the foliage of rare ferns nodding dreamily in deep grot or cool recess. No flower that ever delighted the eyes of king or peasant was absent from Asenath's abode, and such a fragrance hung upon the air that one had but to close one's eyes and yield to the sweet influences of Paradise.
On the day when Asenath was speaking to her maidens, as has ​been told already, she was reclining on a golden couch decked with purple, woven with threads of gold, while all about it and upon were set jewels that sparkled like stars in the midnight sky. She was gazing out at the great window towards the east, when suddenly she was startled by a great commotion in the courtyard below. Slaves ran hither and thither at the word of the steward of the palace. All seemed in preparation for some great event.
'It can be naught but this,' said Asenath, 'my father hath sent a messenger saying that he is returning from his country estate, having taken tale of the harvest, for the king hath decreed that Jusef, the first ruler, shall require a toll of all in this the first year of plenty.'
'Jusef, the prime ruler,' said Ashtar, 'he will come here? Then we shall see him. They say he is as beautiful as a god.'
'They say, girl? Who say?'
'The songs,' stammered Ashtar, crestfallen, 'the—the songs of love.'
'Silence, wayward one! thou art bemused by the poets. This Jusef is a mere man like other men; was he not the son of a shepherd? Was he not a runaway? Was he not sold as a slave? Was he not cast by his master, and for some good reason, into a dungeon?'
'Yea, O my adored mistress, but was he not liberated by Pharaoh?'
'Yes, because he interpreted Pharaoh's dreams, just as any old Egyptian woman might do. Pouf! thou art bemused!'
Then Ashtar sat in silence, gazing out at the deep blue sky. Why had this Jusef's interpretation of dreams raised him to the king's favour while that of the old Egyptian women had been unheeded? Was it because he was, as the singers sang, as beautiful as a god and possessed the spirit of a god? Ashtar could not tell. Beneath the haughty frown of Asenath she sat dumb. Then, with a sigh, she sank upon her cushions, her lips trembling.
'Ashtar is bemused,' whispered the other damsels one to ​another. 'Could the like happen to us?' And Asenath, catching their words, cried, 'Ashtar is a fool! Who but a fool would ever think such thoughts or speak such words?' Then, as a great sound of voices struck upon her ear, she turned again to the window. 'See! See!' she exclaimed, 'a great cavalcade is approaching the gates. There at the head is my father, and—who is that beside him? What are the people crying?—"Jusef, the Prince of God!" Ah! how proudly he sits his white charger, and how brave his equipments—how splendid his retinue! Say you, Ashtar, that this is the second to Pharaoh?'
'Yes, mistress, yes; this is the man Jusef, like all other men. They say he is searching for corn, not for the love of woman.'
'Then let him deal with corn,' flashed Asenath, rising. 'Leave me, all of you! I would be alone.'
The damsels fled, and Asenath turned again to the window. The gates were now opened, and her father and Jusef, followed by a great retinue, rode into the courtyard. Ah! what perfect grace of form and feature! Asenath heart almost burst for frantic beating as she looked at him. Then, in spite of herself, she drew nearer the window, and, as she gazed down, Jusef chanced to glance up. Their eyes met, and Asenath, with a pang at her heart, reeled and fell clutching at the cushions. There she lay sobbing in sudden sorrow. She had spoken bitter words against him, and now the sweet tears of repentance refreshed her anguished soul. Soon she sat up, a picture of misery, but with a glorious light in her eyes.
'Ashtar is no fool,' she murmured, clenching her hands; 'and I do not believe the tales told by the people against him. Oh! unhappy Asenath! What is life to thee now? He comes for toll of corn, and with toll of corn he will depart, and then——'
She swung herself prone upon the cushions and wept again most bitterly.
And Jusef entered into the palace of Putiphra, and all fell down and made obeisance before him,—all except Asenath who remained hidden in her tower. When the slave-girls had washed Jusef's feet
If any reader of my picture Book would like
to make a Direct contribution to the French Red Cross, I should be very proud to receive and acknowledge it. France, bled of treasure and supplies is giving all she can. Can you not spare something towards this work of
mercy and healing among our most gallant Allies!
Edmund Dulac
Contributions may be addressed to
Edmund Dulac,
c/o The Daily Telegraph,
Fleet Street, E.C.
​they set food and wine before him, but on a table apart, for it was known in the land that Jusef the son of Jakub would not eat with the Egyptians, this being an abomination to him.
'My lord Putiphra,' he said, when he had refreshed himself, 'pray tell me, who is that woman I saw looking from the window of the tower? I desire not her presence here.'
Now Putiphra knew it was his daughter Asenath that Jusef had seen. He knew, also, that there was no wife nor daughter of any great man of Egypt who at sight of Jusef's beauty did not fall in evil case. Nay, further, many were the gifts of gold and silver and precious stones sent him by those who languished and were undone in heart by a single glance at him afar. Wherefore these things were a sore vexation to Jusef, who was as pure as he was beautiful. Remembering ever his father's exhortation to avoid the strange woman with a gentle and courteous denial, and to have no other communication with her, he had preserved the sweetness of his soul to God. 'I pray,' he said, seeing his host was slow to answer, 'let the woman go hence, for so thou shalt earn my thanks.'
'My lord,' replied Putiphra, 'the woman thou sawest was none but mine own daughter, a pure virgin, whom no man save myself hath seen unto this day. Indeed, she hath no heart for aught but her present state, my lord. Wert thou to speak with her, thou wouldst regard her from that moment henceforth as thy sister, for in any other respect she hateth every man.'
These words pleased Jusef exceedingly.
'Then the case is different,' said he. 'If she be your daughter and a maiden, hating all men save father and brother, let her come to me and she will be to me as a sister, and I will love her henceforth, even as my own sister.'
Then Putiphra went up to the tower and soon returned, leading Asenath by the hand. And when she saw Jusef her eyes were as the eyes of one that looketh into Paradise.
'Go to thy brother,' said Putiphra, 'and salute him with a kiss, for he is like thee, pure and virgin.'
​Asenath advanced to Jusef, saying, 'Hail, lord, great and blessed of the Most High!' And Jusef replied, 'Hail to thee, maiden! May the Lord God, who giveth all grace and beauty, so continue to bless thee.'
But when Asenath timidly advanced still further to fulfil her father's command, and showed a sweet intent to kiss her new-found brother, Jusef saw the love-light in her eyes, though she, poor child, knew naught of it but that her heart had left her bosom and flown to his. He rose quickly from his seat, and, raising his right arm, said, 'It is not fitting that a man whose lips extol the living God should kiss a strange woman whose mouth prayeth to blocks of wood and stone, and eateth the bread of strangling, and drinketh the cup of treachery.'
When Asenath heard these words her knees trembled. Her heart returned to her own bosom and sank within it She groaned aloud, and, as she gazed sorrowfully at Jusef, her eyes brimmed with tears. Seeing this, Jusef felt pity for her, for he was gentle and merciful. Placing his hand upon her head, he spoke: 'God of my fathers, who hast given life and light to all things, do Thou bless this maiden, and count her as one of Thy people chosen from the foundations of the world; and may she come to Thine eternal peace, pure and holy in Thy sight.'
Then the tears withdrew from Asenath's eyes as the blessing of Jusef shone upon her face. She thanked him joyfully, and, having saluted him, returned to her tower, where she threw herself upon her couch by the window, weak and trembling with joy and grief and fear and remorse.
Alas! how she had spoken of Jusef! How she had besmirched his name—called him a runaway, a guilty man who should still be in prison for his sin, a mere interpreter of dreams. Alas! and he had spurned her as a worshipper of idols and then had forgiven and blessed her, the last on earth to deserve it.
For a time she wept with a great and bitter weeping; then she rose with teeth clenched and dry eyes aflame. Rushing to the wall ​of the chamber she snatched a stone idol from its place and hurled it from the window into the courtyard below. She saw it fall, and heard the crash as it splintered upon the stones. 'His faith was my mother's faith,' she cried, 'and henceforth my mother's faith is mine.'
When Jusef had gathered the toll of wheat and was about to depart Putiphra besought him to tarry and abide at his palace the night and continue his journey on the following day. But Jusef replied, 'Nay, I have seven days in which I must make a circuit of the whole country, but on the eighth day I will return and take up my abode with you.'
And Jusef departed with his retinue through the palace gates; and as he went he looked not up at the window of the palace tower, nor did Asenath look down therefrom.
For seven days thereafter the sun rose and set on Asenath weeping. She neither ate nor drank, nor could her damsels console her in any way. Sleep fled from her eyes. 'Woe is me,' she would cry, smiting her breast. 'Woe to me that I have spoken evil words concerning him; whither shall I go to escape from my sorrow? Woe to me, wretched one, who hath defamed with my tongue the most beautiful son of Heaven. Oh that my father could now give me to Jusef as a slave-girl or a handmaiden, that I might serve him for ever.'
On the night of the seventh day she arose from her couch, and, passing among her damsels, who were all asleep, stole down the stairway of the tower, through the ways of the palace, and out to the great gateway. Here she found the janitor fast asleep. Without waking him, she ran to the gate and tore down the skin of the screen belonging to it. Then she sought an ash heap in a remote part of the courtyard, and, having filled the skin with ashes, returned with it to the tower. She entered her own chamber and bolted the door; then she spread the skin of ashes on the pavement by the window and fell upon it, weeping violently, and crying in broken words: 'By this do I renounce the gods of Egypt. By this do I change ​my heart and cleanse my lips, which, as he said, have offered prayers to idols.' And so she repented with groans and tears until the dawn was near, when she looked up towards the east and saw the morning star depending from the side of heaven, like a great lamp burning clear and sheltered from the wind, lighting her soul to the gate of forgiveness. She sat up and raised her hands towards it, when suddenly the sky opened and a wondrous light appeared. When Asenath saw it she fell on her face upon the ashes, and lo, a man strode out of heaven and stood above her, calling her by name; but she answered not, so great was her terror. Then he called her again: 'Asenath! Asenath!' and his voice was like the murmur of the four streams of Paradise.
'O my lord, who art thou?' she answered from the dust.
'I am the prince and commander of the hosts of the Lord. Arise and stand before me, for I would speak with thee.'
When Asenath raised her head and looked at the bright visitant she saw before her an angel in the form and features of Jusef, clad in a robe of dazzling purple, with a crown of gold encircling his brows, and bearing a royal staff in his hand. Then she was taken with a sudden fear, and fell again upon her face. But the Bright One of God raised her up and comforted her.
'Lift up thy heart, O Virgin Asenath,' he said, 'for thy name is written in the Book of Life and shall never be blotted out for ever and for ever. For know that thy repentance hath pleaded with the Most High as a daughter pleads with a loving father, and it is this day decreed that thou shalt be given unto Jusef as his bride. Therefore arise and change thy garments. Remove that goat's-hair girdle of sorrow from thy loins, shake the ashes from thine head, and array thyself in fine linen with ornaments fitting for the bride of a king to be. Go now, and on thy return thou wilt find me here, provided thou return alone.'
So Asenath went and woke her damsels, and bade them select the finest raiment and the brightest jewels fitting for the bride of the second to Pharaoh. No word did she say of the angel, and they ​wondered greatly. Ashtar alone, on looking into her mistress's eyes, saw there the light that she almost understood.
'Nay, Ashtar,' said Asenath, as the damsel's deft fingers plied their task, 'thou art not bemused. It has come to me, Ashtar; canst thou not see it? '
'Yea, beloved mistress; that can I, right well.' And as their eyes met, Ashtar's filled with tears of joy.
At last Asenath stood apparelled and adorned as befitted the bride of the second to Pharaoh. Her braided hair, a plait of which hung over her shoulder, was bound about her brows with a tiara of gold set with sparkling jewels. Gold bracelets were on her arms; a crimson sash encircled her waist; flounces of her skirts shone with a thousand diamonds and rubies; but most wonderful of all was the long, gossamer veil which fell from her shoulders and trailed on the ground: it was like the milky way of heaven, all stars, with diamond suns blazing here and there. Beauty beyond words was Asenath as she returned to the angel bearing a white flower of purity in her hand.
He was standing by the window as she entered the chamber alone and barred the door behind her.
'My lord,' she said, humbly kneeling before him, 'if now I have won favour in thine eyes, I pray thee take this flower, for thou knowest the meaning of it. It is spotless white, even as I; with a centre of gold, even as I. I pray thee take it and set it in Paradise that it may never wither.'
The angel smiled and took the flower, which he placed in his girdle. 'It will never wither,' he said. 'It is the flower that endures when all created things have passed away. When thou comest to the tree of life thou shalt find it there. Perchance thou mayst find it even here.'
Then Asenath, pondering his words in her heart, beseeched him to sit upon the couch whereon man had never sat. And she said, 'I will bring thee a meal. What wouldst thou?'
'A honeycomb,' said he.
'Alas! I have no honeycomb.' And she was sorrowful.
​'Go thou into thy cellar,' said the angel, 'and thou wilt find a honeycomb.'
Wondering, she went to the cellar, and found a honeycomb there upon the table. It was as white as snow and had the combined fragrance of all the flowers that bloom on hillside and plain. And she returned to him with the honeycomb, saying, 'My lord, as thou spakest, so it was, and the fragrance of it is as the breath of thy presence.'
'Blessed art thou,' said the angel, laying his hand tenderly upon her hair; 'thou hast cast away thine idols and hast turned to the living God. Thou hast come to me in penitence, and shalt now eat of this honeycomb which was gathered and made by the bees of God from the red roses of Eden. It is the food of angels, and those who eat it can never die.'
With this he brake a portion from the honeycomb and set it to her lips, saying, 'Eat, and thy youth shall not fail, thy beauty shall not fall away, thy breasts shall not wither, and thou shalt come at last, in eternal youth, before the throne of God.'
Asenath ate the morsel of honeycomb, and immediately her face was radiant with the glory of heaven.
'See,' said the angel, touching the broken honeycomb, 'it is now whole as before.' Then he rose up, and with his finger traced a line upon the honeycomb from east to west, and another from north to south; and the lines stood out as red as the blood shed on the cross erected upon the foundations of the world. And, as Asenath looked upon it, there came forth from the comb a multitude of bees with purple wings; and they swarmed around her with incessant life, and, swiftly speeding to and from the gardens of Paradise, deposited in the bosom of her dress a honeycomb as white as snow.
'This,' said the angel, 'shall be a sign to thee of sweetness for ever.' And, as at his command, the bees flew eastward to Eden; then he touched the honeycomb, and it was immediately consumed by flames; but the fragrance of that burning was like the marriage of honey with fire. It rose into the nostrils of Asenath and overcame ​her senses. Relinquishing all hold on earthly life, she threw up her arms and sank back upon the couch, where she lay like a beautiful soul fallen dead at the very gates of Paradise.
On the slanting rays of dawn the angel took his way eastwards. Then up rose the sun of the eighth day since Jusef's departure. A cavalcade approached the gates of the palace.
'Ho, within!'
The gates open and there is rushing to and fro. A man, as lordly as the sun, a white flower with a heart of gold in his girdle, rides in, followed by a retinue found only in the wake of kings. It is Jusef. Maddened by a dream, he looks up at the window of the palace tower, but the beautiful face that has showed before shows there no more. Love speeds his footsteps. He has right to command. Where—where is she?
Asenath upon her couch wakes from oblivion at a touch. Who is this standing over her? The angel, yea, the angel, for there is her flower still in his girdle. But how?—and why?—it seems not right; his lips pressed close to hers, his arms around her in a wild embrace——
'Asenath! my bride!'
Printed in Great Britain
By T. and A. Constable, Printers to His Majesty, Edinburgh