The Aramaic gives Joseph's answer as a careful, almost bureaucratic list. Behold, my master taketh no knowledge of what is with me in the house, and all he hath he delivereth into my hand (Genesis 39:8). The Targum Pseudo-Jonathan preserves the quality of his refusal: not an outburst, not panic, but an inventory.
The Sages read this as Joseph's technique. When pressure comes — daily, persistent, whispered — he does not rely on feeling. He rehearses the structure of the situation. My master has stopped tracking his own estate. Every key is in my hand. The trust he has given me is total. Each sentence builds the argument against the act she is proposing. The midrash notes that temptation is usually overcome not by heroic willpower in the moment but by a map of obligations drawn long before the moment arrives.
Pseudo-Jonathan, redacted in the Land of Israel in the early common era, gives the refusal a practical weight. Joseph is not yet naming God here; that will come in the next verse. First he names Potiphar. He is calling his master by the full measure of the trust that was placed in him. The Sages teach that hakarat ha-tov, recognition of the good done for us, is the first fence against the betrayal of the one who trusted us. Joseph recites the kindnesses as a wall.
The moral discipline is available to anyone. Before we make a big decision under pressure, the tradition teaches, we should write out — in plain words, inwardly — the full list of what has been entrusted to us and by whom. The list itself becomes the answer. Joseph, a teenaged slave in a foreign house, has learned the oldest technique in the book: when tempted, count the keys you have been given, and let the counting speak for you.