Those pylons with walls narrowing toward the top, the gate which connected them, the flat sculptures in which order was mingled with gloomy fantasy and piety with cruelty, produced a tremendous impression. It seemed difficult to enter that place, impossible to go out, and a burden to live there.
From the gate, before which stood troops and a throng of small officials, those who entered came into a court surrounded by porticos resting on pillars. That was an ornamental garden, in which were cultivated aloes, palms, pomegranates, and cedars in pots, all placed in rows and selected according to size. In the middle shot up a fountain; the paths were sprinkled with colored sand.
Under the gallery sat or walked higher officials of the state, speaking in low tones.
From the court, through a high door, the visitor passed to a hall of twelve lofty columns. The hall was large, but as the columns also were large, the hall seemed diminutive. It was lighted by small windows in the walls and through a rectangular opening in the roof. Coolness and shade prevailed there; the shade was almost a gloom, which did not, however, prevent him who entered from seeing the yellow walls and pillars, covered with lines of paintings. At the top leaves and flowers were represented; lower down, the gods; still lower, people who carried their statues or brought them offerings; and between these groups were lines of hieroglyphs.
All this was painted in clear, almost glaring colors, green, red, and blue.
In this hall, with its varied mosaic pavement, stood in silence, white robed and barefoot, the priests, the highest dignitaries of State, Herhor, the minister of war, also the leaders Nitager and Patrokles, who had been summoned to the presence of the pharaoh.
His holiness Ramses XII, as usual before he held council, was placing offerings before the gods in his chapel. This continued rather long. Every moment some priest or official ran in from the more distant chambers and communicated news touching the course of the service.
"The lord has broken the seal to the chapel He is washing the sacred divinity Now he is putting it away Now he has closed the door."
On the faces of courtiers, notwithstanding their offices, concern and humility were evident. But Herhor was indifferent, Patrokles impatient, and Nitager now and then disturbed with his deep voice the solemn silence. After every such impolite sound from the old leader, the courtiers moved, like frightened sheep, and looked at one another, as if saying,
"This rustic has been hunting barbarians all his life, we may pardon him."