That Hebrew slave you brought us came to me to make sport of me. But as soon as I screamed for help, he left his cloak beside me and ran out of the house. —Genesis 39: 17b & 18
"This Hebrew...", she gagged. "This Hebrew...", she gagged again. "This Hebrew...wa-wa-wanted...to rape me!" Everybody in the royal household was stunned. "Joseph?", they thought. "Joseph, the master's slave, fooling around with his wife while he was busy in war? There's something wrong with these accusations!" In the crack of dawn, some of the young ones plotted to overthrow Potiphar's house with the truth. But they, unfortunately, were silenced —by hard labor at the royal pyramids in Luxor.
Joseph entered the master's quarters with trembling in his spirit. He knew his impulse got the best of him! And he asked to himself, "Will it be a cistern? Will I be sold again? Will I serve another master?" He tried to remember what did he do to make Potiphar so mad... "I never raped her...I never even touched her..." Once again, Jopeph was confused.
When Joseph entered the room, Potiphar held Joseph's slave cloak. He thanked Potiphar and readily proceeded to grab it, but then remembered what happened: "Joseph, come sleep with me...NO!...Come sleep with me...NO!...RRIIIP!...I WILL NEVER SLEEP WITH YOU!" For a moment, he pleaded: "But, sir, I didn't do anything! She wanted to sleep with me! How can I fail my God—?"
"BUT I NEVER DID—"
Potiphar punched Joseph in the face. He could feel her grin behind the door, lurking at him, peering at him, enjoying his failure. then she enjoyed herself even more, as Potiphar dragged Joseph into the dungeon.
Cold, damp, filled with rats and Saharan dust. That was his Hell, his Hell on Earth...But even there, God reached in...