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
To the king's right, beside the dais, with a hand resting on the back
of a cathedra, or great chair, was the crown prince, Rameses. The old
courtiers of the dead grandsire, visiting the court of Meneptah, flung
up their hands and gasped when they beheld the heir to the double crown
of Egypt. They looked upon the old Pharaoh, renewed in youth and
strength. There were the same narrow temples with the sloping brow,
the same hawked nose, the same full lips, the same heavy eye with the
smoldering ember in its dusky depths. The only radical dissimilarity
was the hue of the prince's complexion. It was a strange, un-Egyptian
pallor, an opaque whiteness with dark shadows that belied the testimony
of vigor in his sinewy frame.
The old courtiers that were still attached to the court of Meneptah
watched with fascination the development of the heir's character. He
was twenty-two years old now and had proved that no alien nature had
been housed in the old Pharaoh's shape. If any pointed out the
prince's indolence as proving him unlike his grandsire the old
courtiers shook their heads and said: "He does not reign as yet and he
but saves his forces till the crown is his." So Egypt, stagnated at
the pinnacle of power by the accession of Meneptah, began to look
forward secretly to the reign of Rameses the Younger, with a hope that
was half terror.
To-night he stood in semi-dusk robed in festal attire, for somewhere a
rout awaited him. And of the groups of power and rank about him, none
seemed to fit that majestic council chamber so well as he. It was not
the robe of costly stuffs he wore, nor the trappings of jewels, which
if he moved never so slightly emitted a shower of frosty sparks--but a
peculiar emanation of magnetism that at once repelled and attracted,
and made him master over the monarch himself. He had never met repulse
or defeat; he had never entered the presence of his peer; he had never
loved, he had never prayed. He was a solitary power, who admitted
death as his only equal, and defied even him.
The other counselors were minor members of the cabinet, who had been
summoned, but expected only to hear and keep silence while the great
powers--the king, the prince, the priest and the fan-bearer--conferred.