"True, but new taxes come in every day."
"The taxes, I know not why, have decreased again, and do not come in so plentifully as I expected. But they too are expended. Be pleased to remember, holiness, that we have five new regiments; hence, about eight thousand men have left their occupations and live at the cost of the treasury."
The pharaoh grew thoughtful.
"We must," said he, "make a new loan. Come to an understanding with
Herhor and Mefres, so that the temples may lend to us."
"I have spoken with them. The temples will lend us nothing."
"The prophets are offended," said the pharaoh, smiling. "In that case we must call in unbelievers. Send to me Dagon."
Toward evening the pharaoh's banker came. He fell on the pavement before Ramses and offered him a golden goblet set with jewels.
"Now I can die!" said Dagon, "since my most gracious sovereign has mounted the throne."
"But before thy death, find me a few thousand talents," said his holiness to the kneeling banker.
The Phoenician was alarmed. Could he feign great embarrassment?