וְכ֥וֹס פַּרְעֹ֖ה בְּיָדִ֑י וָאֶקַּ֣ח אֶת־הָֽעֲנָבִ֗ים וָֽאֶשְׂחַ֤ט אֹתָם֙ אֶל־כּ֣וֹס פַּרְעֹ֔ה וָאֶתֵּ֥ן אֶת־הַכּ֖וֹס עַל־כַּ֥ף פַּרְעֹֽה׃
and Pharaoh’s cup was in my hand; and I took the grapes, and pressed them into Pharaoh’s cup, and I gave the cup into Pharaoh’s hand.’
On Dreams
Again, the cup of Pharaoh, the receptacle of senselessness and wine-frenzy and ceaseless life-long intoxication, is, he says, “in my hand” (Gen. 40:11), that is, in the enterprises which I take in hand, in my projects and faculties, for without the activities of my mind passion by itself will make little headway.