Bo

Locusts eat what the hail left, until nothing green remains in Egypt; a darkness that can be felt covers the land three days, while Israel has light in their dwellings. Pharaoh's own servants have already pleaded, "Do you not yet know that Egypt is lost?" — but he refuses the last demand and drives Moses out: "Do not see my face again."

One plague remains, and before it comes, instructions: this month is the beginning of months. On the tenth each household takes a lamb; on the fourteenth, at twilight, it is slain, its blood put on the doorposts and lintel, its flesh roasted and eaten with unleavened bread and bitter herbs — eaten in haste, belt fastened, staff in hand. The blood is a sign: the LORD will pass over the marked houses when Egypt's firstborn are struck. The feast of unleavened bread is fixed for all generations, seven days with no leaven found in the houses.

At midnight every firstborn of Egypt dies, from Pharaoh's house to the captive in the dungeon, and a great cry rises. Pharaoh summons Moses and Aaron by night: get out, all of you — and bless me also. The people leave with unleavened dough on their shoulders and the silver and gold of their neighbors, some six hundred thousand men on foot besides children, with a mixed multitude, after four hundred and thirty years. The portion closes with statutes of the Passover, the consecration of every firstborn — man and beast — and the words to be a sign on the hand and between the eyes, "for with a strong hand the LORD brought us out of Egypt."