Thou art rich in bond-people beyond any monarch since the gods
reigned."
The chagrin died on the Pharaoh's face and he wore an expectant look.
The prince continued in even tones.
"By use, they have fitted themselves to the limits laid upon them by
the great Rameses. The feeble have died and the frames of the sturdy
have become like brass. They have bred like beetles in the Nile mud
for numbers. Ignorant of their value, thou hast been indifferent to
their existence. Forgetting them was pampering them. They have lived
on the bounty of Egypt for four hundred years and, save for the wise
inflictions of a year or two by the older Pharaohs, they have
flourished unmolested. How they repay thee, thou seest by this
writing. Now, by the gods, turn the face of a master upon them.
Remove the soft driver, Atsu, and put one in his stead who is worthy
the office. Tickle them to alacrity and obedience with the lash--yoke
them--load them--fill thy canals, thy quarries, thy mines with them--"
He broke off and moved forward a step squarely facing the Pharaoh.
"Thou hast thine artist--that demi-god Mentu, in whom there is
supernatural genius for architecture as well as sculpture. Make him
thy murket[2] as well, and with him dost thou know what thou canst do
with these slaves? Thou canst rear Karnak in every herdsman's village;
thou canst carve the twin of Ipsambul in every rock-front that faces
the Nile; thou canst erect a pyramid tomb for thee that shall make an
infant of Khufu; thou canst build a highway from Syene to Tanis and
line it with sisters of the Sphinx; thou canst write the name of
Meneptah above every other name on the world's monuments and it shall
endure as long as stone and bronze shall last and tradition go on from
lip to lip!"
The prince paused abruptly.
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