Her upper garment is a tightly-fitting waist, with a full skirt that reaches just to below the knee and made of bright scarlet stuff. Over this she wears a corslet of finely wrought, flexible gold that clings to her slight, beautiful figure like a glove. In lieu of sleeves she is literally covered by bands of diamonds from forearm to wrist. A broad collar of diamonds encircles her throat. Upon her head is a cap, sewn thick with jewels, and her feet and legs are encased in sandals and leggins like those worn by the officers of the Egyptian army.
As she enters the men salute her as their superior officer. She in return lifts one of her small hands to her jeweled cap in token of recognition.
Thus she passes on until she reaches the side of the King, when, laying her hand firmly upon his shoulder, she says some gentle words to him that stay his mirth, that transform him, for his leering grin gives place to a solemn closing of the thick lips over the great wolfish teeth, and, seating himself in a chair he says slowly and distinctly: “Hatsu, the Goddess Queen, will speak my wishes”; but his eyes look longingly at the boy, beside his chair, the sunny-haired boy, whose hand is still clasped within his own—the little Prince, his son, who nestles his golden head against his mother’s gown.
“The King,” says Queen Hatsu gravely, “the great King Tothmes the Second, my saintly husband, bids me speak lest the effort of words too much weary his great mind.
“He wishes that among ourselves (as among trusted and bosom friends) we speak fully concerning the Israelites, and that this might be the better accomplished he has called to private audience the two learned men who have of late come out of Midian to plead Israel’s cause with Egypt. One of these men has strong claim to the throne’s affection, for our late lamented father and King had a twin sister, whom he fondly loved. This sister did take from the Nile’s bosom an infant, and yearning toward it as a mother yearns for her child, the Princess made the waif her own and reared him as a prince of the land; great of mind was this adopted son; his play was study, his friends the sages; gentle and good was he, slow to anger and of much compassion, but silent was he because of a faltering in his speech. So grew he into early manhood, then on a sudden he vanished. Egypt knew him no more. ’Tis said the Princess sped his going and being an Israelite he returned to his own. Now he has come again into Egypt and with him is his brother, Aaron, to make plea for the loosing of his people. We would have this matter speedily settled, that we may turn our thoughts upon more important matters, for you will recall that we have sent an embassy to her most gracious highness the Queen of Punt, asking her to be again our guest, and we must bring her thither in all pomp and honor, and it ill becomes us to make her a witness to the wailings of the Israelites.”
She has never let her eyes wander from the face of the King, as she has spoken, nor does she lift them when Alric says: “Gracious Queen and sovereign lady, who is there in Egypt that shall dispute the wisdom of our sainted sovereign, and surely we all know that people everywhere in the land are saying that the man Moses, and his brother, Aaron, come to Mizram vested with more than human power, that shall make Egypt suffer if she refuse to let Israel go.”
A voice interrupts Alric. It is the calm, clear voice of the King’s brother. “The King,” he says haughtily, “is all powerful! His will prevails. He rules Egypt’s night as well as Egypt’s day. He need not fear harm through the threats of Moses and Aaron. Superstition and ignorant fear have no place with Egypt’s King and Egypt’s councillors! Let us bid Gethro’s son go back to his sheep! let him seek among the Midian hills a weakly race that listens trembling to old housewives’ prophecies! Nay, nay, we should be mad to rid ourselves of such skilled workmen. My lord King, speak thou to these foolish ones and say Israel shall abide.”
It was Hatsu who replied: “It is well,” she said slowly, “that we have one among us so keen for the welfare and interest of his brother the King and for the little Prince, the King that is to be, and while all the words that thou hast spoken are wise, the King shall, in his own good time, say HIS royal will.” It was at this juncture that the child spoke.
“My mother,” he said, “how can the Israelites do good work for Egypt when they are being famished and beaten? and why do you, my good uncle, wish to bring suffering upon our dear Miriam, for Miriam is an Israelite? She does not worship the many gods of Egypt! I am the Prince Royal, the great King’s only son, and I would make my father say that Israel shall go!”
As the child began his speech the idiot had leaned forward in his chair and a light came into his dull eyes, a something of intelligence, as he replied: “Let Israel go! Let Israel go!”