“IN MY DREAM,” THE CHIEF BUTLER SAID, “I saw a vine in front of me. There were three branches on the vine, and as soon as it budded it blossomed, and its clusters ripened into grapes. Pharaoh’s cup was in my hand, and I picked the grapes and squeezed them into the cup and handed it to Pharaoh.”
It was easy for Joseph to equate the three branches with three days. Everyone knew that Pharaoh’s birthday was coming soon, and it was the custom for him to deliver his judgments on that day: a list of honors and a list of punishments, recited by the stentorian voice of the high chamberlain amid the clucks and murmurs of the noble crowd. Nor was Joseph puzzled at the dream’s tone. It was a dream of confidence and devotion, and although the butler had been upset, he spoke firmly now, with a smile, as he described how he had pressed the grapes and handed the cup to his master.
The butler was a short, plump man, with a shaved head, like all the nobility and priesthood, and luxuriant dark-brown eyebrows. Joseph could see that he was devastated by the accusation of impropriety. It was obvious too that he wanted nothing more than to clear his name. Whatever ambition or venality might be lurking beneath the surface of his thoughts, he was a loyal servant of Pharaoh, and it was a good bet, if not a certainty, that at the birthday festivities his merits would be recognized and he would be pardoned. It all depended on his master. From everything Joseph had heard from Potiphar, Pharaoh was an excellent judge of character, and you could depend on his good sense.
“This is what your dream means,” Joseph said. “The three branches are three days. Within three days, Pharaoh will summon you and restore you to your position, and you will be handing Pharaoh his cup, just as you did before. So set your mind at ease. And when your life has returned to normal, sir, please do me a favor: speak about me to Pharaoh and ask him to release me from prison. I have done nothing to deserve this punishment.”