There followed a silence, till suddenly Amenmeses rose and spoke:
“Have it as you will, Princess, and on your head and the heads of all these whom you have stirred up let the evil fall if evil comes, though I think it is your husband, the Prince Seti, who should stand where you stand and put up this prayer in your place.”
“My husband, the Prince Seti, is tied to Memphis by a rope of witch’s hair, or so they tell me,” she sneered, while the people murmured in assent.
“I know not,” went on Amenmeses, “but this I know that always the Prince would have let these Hebrews go from among us, and at times, as sorrow followed sorrow, I have thought that he was right. Truly more than once I also would have let them go, but ever some Strength, I know not what, descended on my heart, turning it to stone, and wrung from me words that I did not desire to utter. Even now I would let them go, but all of you are against me, and, perchance, if I withstand you, I shall pay for it with my life and throne. Captains, command that my armies be made ready, and let them assemble here at Tanis that I myself may lead them after the people of Israel and share their dangers.”
Then with a mighty shouting the company broke up, so that at the last all were gone and only Pharaoh remained seated upon his throne, staring at the ground with the air, said Bakenkhonsu, rather of one who is dead than of a living king about to wage war upon his foes.
To all these words the Prince listened in silence, but when they were finished he looked up and asked:
“What think you, Bakenkhonsu?”
“I think, O Prince,” answered the wise old man, “that her Highness did ill to stir up this matter, though doubtless she spoke with the voices of the priests and of the army, against which Pharaoh was not strong enough to stand.”
“What you think, I think,” said Seti.
At this moment the lady Merapi entered.