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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Menopha was wrong," he said. "How?" "Love lives by loving." "Then there is no cure for it?" "Yes. Oraetes found the cure." "What was it?" "Death." "You are a good listener, O son of Arrius." And so with conversation and stories, they whiled the hours away. As they stepped ashore, she said, "To-morrow we go to the city." "But you will be at the games?" he asked. "Oh yes."
"Oraetes chose a crypt for her up in the tombs of the queens; and, calling the master sculptors and painters to Memphis, he set them to work upon designs more elaborate than any even in the great galleries of the dead kings.
"Through a dromos of sphinxes and couchant double-winged lions she was borne, and set down before Oraetes sitting on a throne specially erected at the sculptured pylon of the palace. He raised her up, gave her place by his side, clasped the uraeus upon her arm, kissed her, and Ne-ne-hofra was queen of all queens.
"Now of the three hundred and thirty successors of good King Menes, eighteen were Ethiopians, of whom Oraetes was one hundred and ten years old. He had reigned seventy-six years. Under him the people thrived, and the land groaned with fatness of plenty. He practised wisdom because, having seen so much, he knew what it was.
She has refused all the lords and princes, and I know not how many kings; but who can say no to Oraetes?" "Ne-ne-hofra descended the Nile in a barge richer than any ever before seen, attended by an army in barges each but a little less fine.
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