"Our commerce embraces even your own country's productions, O king!" I answered. "I have seen in the mart of Tyre chœnixes of gold-dust, ostrich-feathers, dried fruits and skins, vermilion, ebony, ivory, and even baboons, apes, and leopards. In return we send you our purples."
"That is the name of Tyre, is it not,—the city of purple-cloth?" he said interrogatively, and with a pointed sneer. "Ethiopia signifies the land of warriors—children of the sun."
I could not help smiling at his vanity. Remeses did not say any thing. The king then added, pleasantly:
"I have no quarrel with thee, O Tyre! Receive this ring—that is, if the great Remeses do not regard all I possess, as well as myself, his spoil—receive it in token that we are at peace."
As he spoke, he drew from his thumb a jewel of great price, and, taking my hand, placed it upon my thumb, without looking to see whether Remeses approved or no.
After a brief interview I left his presence, and soon retired to my state-room. Remeses insists upon my retaining the ring, which, in truth, the Ethiopian king, being a captive, had no right to dispose of. Remeses says that he displayed the most daring courage and marvellous generalship in battle; and that, though young, and apparently effeminate, he inherits all the fierce, barbaric spirit of his ancestor, Sabaco I., and of his uncle, Bocchiris the Great, and third of the name.
At length arrived at the island of Rhoda, Remeses hastened to embrace his mother, and to render to her an account of his expedition. The next day, preparations were made to receive the vast and victorious army, which had been slowly marching towards the capital, along the western bank of the river. They entered the plain of the pyramids on the same night, column succeeding column in a long line, attended by an interminable train of captives, and by wagons, cars, and chariots laden with spoils of arms, treasures, goods, and military stores. Having encamped on their former ground, they awaited the signal to move towards the city in triumphal procession.
The following morning the queen made her appearance at the head of the great square, in front of the temple of Apis. She was arrayed in her royal robes, and seated in a state-chariot of ivory, inlaid with gold, drawn by four white horses driven abreast, richly caparisoned, and with ostrich-plumes nodding on their heads. Attended by a splendid retinue of the lords of her palace, she took a position near the pylon, surrounded by her body-guard, in their glittering cuirasses of silver, and bearing slender lances in their right hands. The lords of the realm were ranged, in extended wings, on either side of her chariot; the whole presenting a strikingly beautiful spectacle.
When all was arranged, from the portals of the vast temple, headed by the hierarch in full dress, issued a procession of four hundred priests, a shining host, with golden tiaras, and censers of gold, and crimson vestments. Other sacred processions came advancing along all the streets, headed by their chiefs, each escorting the god of their temple in a gorgeous shrine, blazing with the radiance of precious stones.
Prince Remeses, attended by the governor of the city, the twenty-one rulers of the departments thereof, and by all dignitaries, of whatever office, in their sumptuous robes and badges of rank, had already departed from the city to meet the army, which, headed by its generals, was in full motion. They came on in columns of battalions, as if marching through an enemy's country, and with all the pomp of war—their battle-banners waving, and their bands of music sounding. Instead of accompanying Remeses, I remained, by her request, near the queen. The towers of the pylones, the roofs of temples, the colonnades of palaces, terraces, house-tops—every vantage-point—were crowded thickly with spectators.