The Yoke: A Romance of the Days when the Lord Redeemed the Children of Israel from the Bondage of Egypt — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
The Yoke: A Romance of the Days when the Lord Redeemed the Children of Israel from the Bondage of Egypt
John Stuart Mill · en
"By Bast," the foremost cried, as he came running. "The sedition of
the renegade, Mesu,[1] bears early fruit!"
But the spirit of rebellion became contagious and the men of Israel
began to throw themselves out of line. At this moment, Atsu seemed to
become conscious of the riot and drove his horses between the
combatants.
"Into ranks with you!" he commanded, pressing forward upon the Hebrews.
The men obeyed sullenly.
"I have said there was to be no use of the knouts," he said sharply,
turning upon the drivers. "Forward with them!"
The first driver muttered.
"What sayest thou?" Atsu demanded.
The man's mouth opened and closed, and his eyes drew up, evilly, but he
made no answer.
"Forward with them," Atsu repeated, without removing his gaze from the
driver.
Slowly, and now silently, the hereditary slaves of the Pharaoh moved
out of Pa-Ramesu. And of all the departing numbers and of all that
remained behind, none was more stricken in heart than Atsu, the stern
taskmaster over Israel.
[1] Moses.
CHAPTER II
UNDER BAN OF THE RITUAL
Holy Memphis, city of Apis, habitat of Ptah!
Not idly was she called Menefer, the Good Place. Not anywhere in Egypt
were the winds more gentle, the heavens more benign, the environs more
august.
To the south and west of her, the Libyan hills notched the horizon. To
the east the bald summits of the Arabian desert cut off the traveling
sand in its march on the capital. To the north was a shimmering level
that stretched unbroken to the sea. Set upon this at mid-distance, the
pyramids uplifted their stupendous forms. In the afternoon they
assumed the blue of the atmosphere and appeared indistinct, but in the
morning the polished sides that faced the east reflected the sun's rays
in dazzling sheets across the valley.
Out of a crevice between the heights to the south the broad blue Nile
rolled, sweeping past one hundred and twenty stadia or sixteen miles of
urban magnificence, and lost itself in the shimmering sky-line to the
north.
The city was walled on the north, west, and south, and its river-front
was protected by a mighty dike, built by Menes, the first king of the
first dynasty in the hour of chronological daybreak. Within were
orderly squares, cross-cut by avenues and relieved from monotony by
scattered mosaics of groves. Out of these shady demesnes rose the
great white temples of Ptah and Apis, and the palaces of the various
Memphian Pharaohs.
About these, the bazaars and residences, facade above facade, and tier
upon tier, as the land sloped up to its center, shone fair and white
under a cloudless sun.
Memphis was at the pinnacle of her greatness in the sixth year of the
reign of the divine Meneptah. She had fortified herself and resisted
the great invasion of the Rebu. Her generals had done battle with him
and brought him home, chained to their chariots.