FRANCIS. Hum! OLD MOOR. Bring the Bible, my daughter, and read to me the story of Jacob and Joseph! It always appeared to me so touching, even before I myself became a Jacob. AMELIA. What part shall I read to you? (Takes the Bible and turns over the leaves.) OLD MOOR. Read to me the grief of the bereaved father, when he found his Joseph no more among his children;--when he sought him in vain amidst his eleven sons;--and his lamentation when he heard that he was taken from him forever. AMELIA (reads). "And they took Joseph's coat, and killed a kid of the goats, and dipped the coat in the blood; and they sent the coat of many colors, and they brought it to their father, and said, 'This have we found: know now whether it be thy son's coat or no.' (Exit FRANCIS suddenly.) And he knew it and said, 'It is my son's coat; an evil beast hath devoured him; Joseph is without doubt rent in pieces.'" OLD MOOR (falls back upon the pillow). An evil beast hath devoured Joseph! AMELIA (continues reading). "And Jacob rent his clothes, and put sackcloth upon his loins, and mourned for his son many days. And all his sons and all his daughters rose up to comfort him, but he refused to be comforted, and he said, 'For I will go down into the grave--'" OLD MOOR. Leave off! leave off. I feel very ill. AMELIA (running towards him, lets fall the book). Heaven help us! What is this? OLD MOOR. It is death--darkness--is waving--before my eyes--I pray thee--send for the minister--that he may--give me--the Holy Communion. Where is--my son Francis? AMELIA. He is fled. God have mercy upon us! OLD MOOR. Fled--fled from his father's deathbed? And is that all--all --of two children full of promise--thou hast given--thou hast--taken away--thy name be-- AMELIA (with a sudden cry). Dead! both dead! [Exit in despair.] Enter FRANCIS, dancing with joy.