‘Nothing you can say will persuade me to let your brother Benjamin go with you. Joseph is dead. He too was but a boy when he went out to seek you in Shechem and came back to me no more. Now Benjamin is the only son left to me of my old age. If I were to consent to his going and any harm were to befall him while he was with you, it would bring down my grey hairs with sorrow to the grave.’

The famine increased. The skies were like brass, the earth baked hard as brick, and there came no sign or hope of any relief. They waited on from day to day until the corn they had brought from Egypt was running perilously short and would soon be consumed. Their flocks and herds grew lank and sickly; even their little children were ailing for want of milk and nourishment. And Jacob could refrain himself no longer.

‘There is not a day to lose,’ he said to his sons. ‘You must go at once and bring us a little food. And I myself will remain here with Benjamin.’

And Judah once again, and as tenderly as words could, assured his father that this was impossible. ‘This man who was lord over Egypt, did solemnly swear and protest to us: “By the life of Pharaoh,” he said, “unless, when you return, your brother be with you, you shall not see my face again!” If we venture without him, then not one of us, as I believe, will ever come back alive.’

Then said Jacob: ‘Why did you deal so ill with me as even to mention to this man that you had a younger brother?’

‘But he questioned us closely again and again,’ said his sons. ‘He inquired where we came from, who were our kindred, if our father were still living, if we ourselves were his only sons or had he yet another. How could we else, then, than answer him according to the tenor of his questions; how could we have evaded them? How, too, could we have foreseen that he would snatch at our words and say: “Return and bring your brother with you”?’

Then Judah pleaded yet once again with his father. ‘Give the boy into my care,’ he said. ‘And let us set out at once. The corn we bought is all but gone, our little ones will soon be crying for food. If we stay now, death stares us one and all in the face. I myself will be surety for him, and if I fail to bring him back to thee safe and sound, be mine the blame for ever. For except we had lingered, we should by now have already gone and come back again.’

Then said Jacob: ‘What must be, must be. Make ready at once and go. But do not venture empty-handed. Take the best of the little we have left and carry it down to this man for a present; a little balsam and some honey and storax, spices, nuts and almonds—whatever we have that is sought after by the Egyptians; and let it be our choicest. Take not only double money with you, lest, as I suspect, in these last months the price of corn may have risen, but take also the money that was hidden in the mouths of your sacks. That, maybe, was only an oversight, but will be proof of your honesty. And Benjamin shall go with you. Delay no more. And may God Almighty be with you and give you mercy when you come again into the presence of this man, that Simeon may be restored to you, and that he keep not Benjamin. But if it be God’s will that I am to be bereaved of him, then I am bereaved.’ He wept and withdrew himself out of their sight.