Adapted from “The Prisoner and Other Tales of Faith” by Rabbi Salomon Alter Halpern and published by Feldheim. Reprinted here with the kind permission of Rabbi Halpern.
And it came to pass in those days, and Mosheh grew up and he went out to his brothers to see their hard labour, and he saw an Egyptian smiting a Hebrew, one of his brothers. He looked this way and that, and he saw that there was no man, and he killed the Egyptian and hid him in the sand. And he went out on the next day, but look! There were two Hebrews fighting. And he said to the one that was in the wrong, “Why do you smite your fellow?” But that one said, “And who made you a prince and a judge over us? Do you intend to kill me, as you killed that Egyptian?” And Mosheh was afraid and said, “So! The matter is known!” And when Par’o heard of the incident, he sought to put Mosheh to death and Mosheh fled from before Par’o ... (Shemos, 2 : 11 — 15)
The sun was high over Thebes. A young man of eighteen was walking in the shade of the sycamores in the Park of the Par’o. The ornaments in his hair and on his robes of fine byssus marked him out as a Royal Prince, but he was lighter of skin and taller than Egyptians of his age and his handsome features had a Semitic shape. Birds were twittering in the trees and from the distance came the rhythmic shouts of oarsmen on the river and the cries of children at play, but Prince Mosheh’s mind was not at ease.
“Why is it,” he thought, “that I am not happy? I am surrounded by luxuries and there is no pleasure I cannot have for the asking. My Royal mother loves me as much as any real mother could. Indeed, my own name is the one that she bestowed upon me when she drew me from the water and she even changed it slightly from the Egyptian word to the Hebrew form just to make me happy. I am liked by all the Royal Household and I am a favourite of Par’o himself. Did he not, on my petition, grant his Hebrew slaves a weekly day of rest? Did he not banish the Midyanite magician because he was plotting against me?
“Yet I am lonely, like a man in a strange land. Yes, these people who have brought me up, to whom I owe everything, even my life — in my heart they are strangers to me. Their pleasures seem childish to me — and I shudder at their cruelty. The scribes read to them about wisdom and justice — yet at the same time they work the slaves to death to build them ever more marvellous monuments. They are so clever, so refined — but they worship their gods by behaving like savages. Indeed, my body-servant is happier than I, for he at least has no part in all this. He knows he is enslaved, and can pray to the G-d of his fathers to redeem him.”
Suddenly he stood still.
“The G-d of his fathers? He is the G-d of my fathers too, and I, too, though I live in the Palace, I am enslaved in their evil life!”
HE WENT HOME
For a time, he continued pacing up and down the side of the ornamental pool, his head bowed, deep in thought. After a while, he straightened up and turned round, calling: “Come here, Uri!” The boy, who had been discreetly following his master at a distance, came running at once.
“Run to the stables,” commanded Mosheh, “and get my chariot. When I am gone, give my respects to my mother and tell her I have gone for a drive in the country.”
The boy bowed and turned quickly to carry out the order, but Mosheh recalled him. “One more thing, Uri.”
“Yes, my lord?”
“You care for me, do you not? Can I trust you with a secret?” asked Mosheh.
The boy looked up at the Prince with such devotion that there was no need for an answer. Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes as he spoke. “My master! You have taken me from the clay pits ... you treat me like a brother ... there is nothing I would not do for you!”
“Would you risk your life rather than betray me?” asked Mosheh.
“I would not betray you, my master,” said Uri solemnly, “even under torture. I swear it by the G-d of my fathers!”
“Then,” said Mosheh, “I will tell you where I am going, but don’t tell any living person. I am going to visit our brothers and see their work.”
When Uri had grasped his meaning, he almost broke down with happiness and excitement. The Prince had called the Hebrews his brothers!
“Wait!” said Mosheh, “you must not go about with shining eyes. If they get suspicious they might kill us both. Think of that and control yourself. Nothing has happened, I am going for a joy-ride, that’s all. Do you understand? Now run!”
Soon the chariot arrived and he passed through the gates to the salutes of the guards. He took the road leading to the nearest building sites.
The gilt chariot with its well-greased, leather-tyred wheels ran smoothly on the paved road. He let the thoroughbreds run as fast as they pleased. The air rushed past him and he felt the exhilaration of speed but it did not make him forget the seriousness of his venture.
He had visited the building sites before, as part of the entourage of Par’o, but on those occasions they had come to inspect the progress of some project or to see some newly-finished sculptures and care had been taken that nothing should be seen that might upset some Royal lady. Seeing the colossal undertakings and the enormous amount of sheer physical labour they involved, one could only imagine the actual treatment of the slaves that had been used. Now Mosheh wanted to see what went on behind the pretences that were put on for a Royal visit. He wanted to let himself feel — the words still sounded strange to him as he repeated them aloud to himself — he wanted to let himself feel for his brothers.
The paved road gave way to a well-worn wide track as the horses sped him onwards. He knew that he would soon come to one of the new towns that were being built all over the country and sure enough, after a time, he came across a column of slaves. A hundred men or more in single file, each slave carrying two hods of bricks slung from a pole, the sweat streaming down their sides. Each gang of ten had a Hebrew foreman running from man to man and exhorting them to keep up the pace. One gang broke its order and Mosheh saw that it was the Hebrew foreman who tasted the vicious whip of the Egyptian overseer.
When Mosheh reached them he stopped, and at an order from the Egyptian the column stopped, too. Mosheh ordered the overseer to give them a pause for rest whilst he would inspect them and they put down their loads and sat by the roadside.
Mosheh questioned the overseer about such things as the places between which they transported the bricks, the distances involved, how long they took, how many journeys they made in a day and then he told him that he wished to inspect the men alone.
He walked along the line. The men were slumped on the ground, silent and listless. So, this was what slavery had made of people who could have been as lively and quick-witted as Uri — or himself!
He stopped in front of a young man who seemed more alert than the rest. The man stood up and bowed.
“What treatment do you receive?” Mosheh asked him.
The man averted his eyes as he answered: “The will of Par’o is carried out correctly, as my lord can see.”
Mosheh made another attempt: “Have your people always been slaves?”
At this, the man straightened himself and clenched his fists: “Our fathers were free men, and one day we shall be free again, in a land of our own.”
Then, realizing that he was speaking to an Egyptian and a noble, he added: “Forgive me, my lord, I forgot myself. I am in your hands.” And he threw himself down on the ground before Mosheh in fear and subjugation.
Mosheh found it hard to contain his pity. A people once free and proud, and now brought so low. A people? His own people!
“Stand up,” commanded Mosheh. “I will not punish you, nor tell anybody about your outburst. But only if you are open and frank with me and tell me what I want to know from you. How did your servitude begin, and when?”
The man looked up at him in surprise. The nearest slaves also raised their heads imperceptibly and cast interested glances at this strangely humane nobleman. The man stood up and began, hesitating at first, then more forcefully:
“May G-d remember you this mercy, my lord. Par’o declared us slaves before I was born, but my father was then a grown man and was not born a slave. Before that, our people used to keep our sheep in the land of Goshen, which a Par’o had given us for great services rendered to the country. Then, there was the Invasion, and our men fought bravely for Par’o. When the enemies had been driven out, Par’o called upon all his people to build fortresses in case the enemies returned. Our people answered his call, all but the Tribe of Levi, and we worked together with the Egyptians as free labourers, for good pay. Gradually, the Egyptians went home and returned to their own trades and livelihoods, but we could not.
