"Gently, gently, old man. We are not all made of the same stuff, and if there was such a little difference between you and Amasis as boys, it, is your own fault that, now you are old men, he has outstripped you so far. "My father and grandfather were both servants in the temple, and of course I followed in their footsteps." "Quite right; it is the law of caste, and by that rule, Amasis ought never to have become anything higher than a poor army-captain at most." "It is not every one who's got such an easy conscience as this upstart fellow." "There you are again! For shame, Hib! As long as I can remember, and that is nearly half a century, every other word with you has been an abusive one. When I was a child your ill-temper was vented on me, and now the king has the benefit of it." "Serves him right! All, if you only knew all! It's now seven months since . . ." "I can't stop to listen to you now. At the rising of the seven stars I will send a slave to take you to my rooms. Till then you must stay in your present lodging, for I must go to my patient." "You must?--Very well,--then go and leave poor old Hib here to die. I can't possibly live another hour among these creatures." "What would you have me do then?" "Let me live with you as long as we are in Persia." "Have they treated you so very roughly?" "I should think they had indeed. It is loathsome to think of. They forced me to eat out of the same pot with them and cut my bread with the same knife. An infamous Persian, who had lived many years in Egypt, and travelled here with us, had given them a list of all the things and actions, which we consider unclean. They took away my knife when I was going to shave myself. A good-for-nothing wench kissed me on the forehead, before I could prevent it. There, you needn't laugh; it will be a month at least before I can get purified from all these pollutions. I took an emetic, and when that at last began to take effect, they all mocked and sneered at me. But that was not all. A cursed cook-boy nearly beat a sacred kitten to death before my very eyes. Then an ointment-mixer, who had heard that I was your servant, made that godless Bubares ask me whether I could cure diseases of the eye too. I said yes, because you know in sixty years it's rather hard if one can't pick up something from one's master. Bubares was interpreter between us, and the shameful fellow told him to say that he was very much disturbed about a dreadful disease in his eyes. I asked what it was, and received for answer that he could not tell one thing from another in the dark!" "You should have told him that the best remedy for that was to light a candle." "Oh, I hate the rascals! Another hour among them will be the death of me!"