The Ten Commandments Page #7

- Yes, my father.

I have found him in the midst

of treachery and treason,

with the blood of your

master builder red upon his hands.

Shall I summon him

to Pharaoh's justice?

Summon him!

- Bring the Hebrew in.

- Bring the Hebrew in.

Moses.

Great Pharaoh...

...I stand in the shadow

of your justice.

Whose work is this?

I warned you of his treason, my father.

- Treason?

- Judge now if I spoke truly.

The evil star foretold him

as the destroyer of Egypt

and deliverer of slaves.

It is not possible. A prince of Egypt?

He is not a prince of Egypt.

He is not the son of your sister.

He is the son of Hebrew slaves.

Speak... my son.

I am the son of Amram and Yochabel.

Hebrew slaves.

My brother, it was I

who deceived you, not Moses.

- He was only a child.

- Leave me.

I shall not see your face again.

Moses, come to me.

I do not care who you are or what you

are or what they may say about you,

but I want to hear from your own lips

that you are not a traitor,

that you would not lead these people

in revolt against me.

Tell me, Moses. I will believe you.

I am not this deliverer you fear.

It would take more than a man

to lead the slaves from bondage.

It would take a god.

But if I could free them,

I would.

What has turned you against me?

From the time my sister brought you

to the court, I loved you,

reared you, set you before my own son,

because I saw in you

a worth and a greatness

above other men.

No son could have

more love for you than I.

Then why are you forcing me

to destroy you?

What evil has done this to you?

The evil that men should turn their

brothers into beasts of burden,

to slave and suffer in dumb anguish,

to be stripped of spirit

and hope and faith,

only because they're

of another race,

another creed.

If there is a God,

he did not mean this to be so.

What I have done,

I was compelled to do.

So be it.

What I do now,

I am compelled to do.

No! No!

Rameses,

Egypt shall be yours.

Hear what I say, Rameses.

When I cross the river of death,

you will be Pharaoh in Egypt.

Harden yourself against subordinates.

Put no faith in a brother.

Have no friend.

Trust no woman.

I protected the helpless,

I nourished the orphan.

Great one!

He who ate my bread

and called me father

would make rebellion against me.

What manner of death

do you decree for him?

I cannot speak it.

Let it be as you will.

I will not live if you must die!

The feet of a Hebrew slave

is not the right place

for the next queen of Egypt.

Take him away.

- Do not look upon him.

- Traitor to Pharaoh.

Let the name of Moses

be stricken

from every book and tablet.

Stricken from all pylons and obelisks.

Stricken from every monument of Egypt.

Let the name of... Moses...

...be unheard and unspoken,

erased from the memory of men

for all time.

No, Moses.

It is I who will possess all of her.

You think when you are in my arms it

will be his face you will see, not mine?

Yes. Only his face.

I defeated you in life.

You shall not defeat me by your death.

The dead are not scorched

in the desert of desire.

They do not suffer

from the thirst of passion

or stagger blindly towards

some mirage of lost love.

But you, Hebrew,

will suffer all these things...

- ...by living.

- You will let him live!

I will not make him a martyr

for you to cherish.

No phantom will come between

you and me in the night.

Yes, my sweet. I will let him live.

Dead...

...you alone would possess him.

From where I send him

there is no returning.

And you will never know

if he has found forgetfulness

within another woman's arms.

Now, look upon each other

for the last time.

Now, look for the first time,

Abiram, upon the governor of Goshen.

Dathan, my brother,

you have the favor of the Lord.

I prefer the gratitude of the prince.

Nearer.

Yes. Very lovely.

Not that purplish flower.

The purity of white

will cool the blush of your cheek.

Leave us. All of you.

Yes, you, too, my brother.

Continue your playing,

but in the house.

Yes. That's better.

A flower behind a flower.

Dathan, if you fear God, let me go.

I'm here, girl, because I put no trust

in a desert god

and his mud-pit prophet.

I prospered because I bowed lower than

my brothers before the Egyptians.

Now, the Egyptians bow low before me.

Joshua wanted you.

Baka wanted you.

But you belong to me.

A gift from Rameses to His Excellency.

I will bow before you, Dathan.

I will work my hands raw for you.

But please...

Please do not shame me

before my Lord.

Your Lord is the governor of Goshen.

What difference to my shame?

No difference to you,

my dove of Canaan.

But to a condemned slave like Joshua,

it could make the difference

between death on the spikes

and life in the copper mines of Sinai.

What would you do to influence

His Excellency's clemency?

Anything, Dathan.

Anything.

Joshua will always

be grateful to you,

my little mud flower.

His fate is better

than the one that waits for Moses.

The slave who would be king.

Captain. Robe of state.

His Hebrew mother brought it

to the prison before she died.

I'd rather this for your armor.

You will have need of a scepter.

Give me this binding pole.

Here is your king's scepter

and here is your kingdom,

with the scorpion, the cobra

and the lizard for subjects.

Free them, if you will.

Leave the Hebrews to me.

Give this prince of Israel

one day's ration of bread and water.

One day's ration?

It will take many days to cross this

wilderness, if he can cross at all.

I commend you to your Hebrew god

who has no name.

If you die, it will be

by his hand, not by mine.

Farewell, my one-time brother.

Into the blistering wilderness of Shun

the man who walked with kings

now walks alone.

Torn from the pinnacle of royal power;

stripped of all rank and earthly wealth,

a forsaken man without a country,

without a hope.

His soul in turmoil,

like the hot winds and raging sands

that lash him with the fury

of a taskmaster's whip.

He is driven forward, always forward,

by a god unknown

toward a land unseen.

Into the molten wilderness of sin,

where granite sentinels

stand as towers of living death

to bar his way.

Each night brings

the black embrace of loneliness.

In the mocking whisper of the wind

he hears the echoing voices of the dark.

Moses!

- Moses!

- Moses!

His tortured mind

wondering if they call

the memory of past triumphs

or wail foreboding

of disasters yet to come

or whether the desert's hot breath

has melted his reason into madness.

He cannot cool the burning kiss

of thirst upon his lips,

nor shade the scorching fury of the sun.

All about is desolation.

He can neither bless nor curse

the power that moves him,

for he does not know

from where it comes.

Learning that it can be more

terrible to live than to die,

he is driven onward through

the burning crucible of desert,

where holy men and prophets

are cleansed and purged

for God's great purpose.

Until, at last,

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