The couch was surrounded.
Seti was not present, for only in the last moment had some one realized
that the young prince should be brought. Hotep had gone to conduct him
to the chamber.
The queen, inert and lifeless, lay on the floor at the foot of the
prince's bed. Most of the physicians bent over her. Her women,
chiefly the wives of the ministers, were hysterical and helpless.
But it was Meneptah who froze the hearts of his courtiers with horror.
Because of his obstinacy Egypt had gone down into famine, pestilence
and destruction. Without more than ordinary concern he had watched the
hand of the scourge pursue it into ruin till what time he should
relent, and he had not relented.
But now that dread Hand had entered within the boundaries of his loves
and had smitten Rameses, his heir, his idol!
The effect upon him was terrible. The death chamber rang like a
torture dungeon. Nechutes and Menes, by united efforts, barely
prevented him from doing self-murder. The earnest attempts of the
priest to quiet him were totally useless. Nothing could have been more
shocking.
The violent scene wrought Masanath's already over-strained nerves to
the highest pitch of distress. The blood congealed in her veins and
her steps lagged, but Har-hat, for some purpose not apparent to any who
looked upon his daughter's anguish, drew her to the very side of the
couch.
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