Through a gilded, widely opened door his holiness ascended marble steps to a terrace, and, raising his hands, faced in turn toward the four sides of the universe. The sound of trumpets was heard, and from the summits of pylons banners were hung out. Whoso was in a field, in a yard, on the street, fell prostrate; the stick, raised above the back of a beast or a slave, was lowered without giving the blow, and all criminals against the state who had been sentenced that day received grace.
Descending from the terrace the pharaoh inquired,
"Have I something more to do?"
"Refreshments and affairs of state are awaiting thee, holiness," replied Herhor.
"After that I may rest," said the pharaoh. "Where are the remains of his holiness, my father?"
"Given to the embalmers," whispered Herhor.
Tears filled the pharaoh's eyes, and his mouth quivered, but he restrained himself and looked down in silence. It was not proper that servants should see emotion in such a mighty ruler.
Wishing to turn the pharaoh's attention to another subject, Herhor asked,
"Wilt Thou be pleased, holiness, to receive the homage due from the queen, thy mother?"
"I? Am I to receive homage from my mother?" asked Ramses, with repressed voice.