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Mother! Mother!
He turned his staff into a cobra!
Nothing of his will harm you, my son.
The power of your god is a cheap magician's trick.
Jannes.
Mother, look!
Jannes, do you see?
Moses's serpent swallows up the others.
You gave me this staff to rule over scorpions and serpents,
but god made it a rod to rule over kings.
Hear his word, Rameses, and obey.
Obey?
Moses, Moses.
Are there no magicians in Egypt
that you have come back to make serpents out of sticks?
Or cause rabbits to appear?
I will give your staff a greater wonder to perform.
Bear it before your idle people
and bid them make bricks without straw.
How can people make bricks without straw?
Let his staff provide them with it.
Or let them glean straw in the fields for themselves.
But their tally of bricks shall not diminish.
So let it be written.
So let it be done.
We are freel
our Deliverer!
Aaron! Aaron, when do we leave Egypt?
We do not leave Egypt.
But Moses promised us.
- Why? Why? - But you said we'd be freed!
Let him speak!
I have brought more evil upon you.
God forgive my weak use of his strength.
- Weak use? - Moses, what have you done to us?
It is Pharaoh's order that you be given no straw
to make your tally of bricks.
No straw? Impossible!
How can we make bricks without straw?
You will glean the stubble of the fields by night.
And your women and children, too.
Is this the Deliverer?
You've brought the wrath of Pharaoh upon us!
You put a sword in their hands to kill us!
Stone him! Stone him!
There he is. There.
Stand aside! Come!
Follow!
There goes your Deliverer. Now, go find your straw.
But remember, the tally must be the same. Not one brick less.
I cursed you.
Each time Rameses took me in his arms, I cursed you, not him,
because I love you.
The Moses who loved you was another man.
No, he was not.
You believe you've changed, but you haven't.
You call yourself a prophet, a man of god,
but I know better.
I don't believe that only the thunder of a mountain stirs your heart,
as you stir mine.
Nefretiri, I have stood in the burning light of god's own presence.
It was not he who saved you just now.
I did that.
Oh, Moses, Moses.
Why, of all men, did I fall in love with the Prince of Fools?
But I believe anything you tell me when I'm in your arms.
Why must you deny me and yourself?
Because I am bound to a god...
And to a people and to a shepherd girl.
A shepherd girl? What can she be to you?
Unless the desert sun has dulled your senses.
Does she grate garlic on her skin?
Oris it soft as mine?
Are her lips chafed and dry as the desert sand?
Like a pomegranate?
Is it the fragrance of myrrh that scents her hair?
Or is it the odor of sheep?
There is a beauty beyond the senses, Nefretiri.
Beauty like the quiet of green valleys and still waters.
Beauty of the spirit that you cannot understand.
Perhaps not.
But beauty of the spirit will not free your people, Moses.
You will come to me or they will never leave Egypt.
The fate of Israel is not in your hands, Nefretiri.
Oh, isn't it?
Who else can soften Pharaoh's heart?
Or harden it?
Yes.
You may be the lovely dust
through which god will work his purpose.
Fill every jar in your house with water.
Tell the others that for seven days there will be none to drink.
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