The glory of the PharaohsWeigall, Arthur E. P. Brome (Arthur Edward Pearse Brome)
History
The glory of the Pharaohs
Weigall, Arthur E. P. Brome (Arthur Edward Pearse Brome)
Egypt -- Antiquities
Shortly after this the Egyptian paid another visit to the sea-shore to
feast his eyes upon the logs. He must have been almost unable to contain
himself in the delight and excitement of the ending of his task and his
approaching return in triumph to Egypt; and we may see him jauntily
walking over the sand, perhaps humming a tune to himself. Suddenly he
observed a fleet of eleven ships sailing towards the town, and the song
must have died upon his lips. As they drew nearer he saw to his horror
that they belonged to the Sicilians of Dor, and we must picture him
biting his nails in his anxiety as he stood amongst the logs. Presently
they were within hailing distance, and some one called to them asking
their business. The reply rang across the water, brief and terrible:
“Arrest Wenamon! Let not a ship of his pass to Egypt.” Hearing these
words the envoy of Amon-Ra, king of the gods, just now so proudly
boasting, threw himself upon the sand and burst into tears.
The sobs of the wretched man penetrated to a chamber in which the
prince’s secretary sat writing at the open window, and he hurried over
to the prostrate figure. “Whatever is the matter with you?” he said, so
we are told, tapping the man on the shoulder.
Wenamon raised his head. “Surely you see these birds which descend on
Egypt,” he groaned. “Look at them! They have come into the harbour, and
how long shall I be left forsaken here? Truly you see those who have
come to arrest me.”
With these words one must suppose that Wenamon returned to his weeping,
for he says in his report that the sympathetic secretary went off to
find the prince in order that some plan of action might be formulated.
When the news was reported to Zakar-Baal, he too began to lament; for
the whole affair was menacing and ugly. Looking out of the window he saw
the Sicilian ships anchored as a barrier across the mouth of the
harbour, he saw the logs of cedar-wood strewn over the beach, he saw the
writhing figure of Wenamon pouring sand and dust upon his head and
drumming feebly with his toes; and his royal heart was moved with pity
for the Egyptian.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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