"In ten days or so," Parennofer, the Keeper of the King's Seal, replied.
"Couldn't we hurry it? It will be the beginning, you know...." Tuta said.
"It may be the beginning of such things that nothing will be left of us," muttered Ahmes, the superintendent of the king's household.
"What is it you are afraid of?" Tuta asked.
"Oh, anything! It's no joke going against the gods...."
"Well, the gods can fend for themselves, but we must think of our own skins. In this accursed hole, Aton's province, we are like mice in a trap—there is no way of escape. They will slaughter us like sheep when the levelling begins."
"What levelling?"
"Don't you know? The king thinks of nothing but making the rich and the poor equal. But what if the mob does rise up in earnest?"
"No, I am not particularly afraid of the mob," Ahmes replied. "The mob may very likely be on our side, but our own sort, the officials, will cut off our noses in a trice."
"'Better have a head without a nose than a nose without a head,' as a smart fellow said who had had his nose cut off," Ay said, and everyone laughed again.