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Updated: June 16, 2025
I was once out on Memnon, five and twenty miles from home, when I came to a cottage where I found a woman lying ill. I saw what was wanted. The country was strange to me, and I could not have found a doctor. I wrote a little pencil-note, fastened it to the saddle, and told the horse to go home and bring me what the housekeeper gave him and not to spare himself.
I have eaten melons, and I have dreamed melons, but never in either experience was there to be found such an ecstasy of taste as I now got. "Another, Memnon another!" I cried. "If you wish, sir," said he. "But very imprudent, sir. That wafer was constructed from six hundred of the choicest " "Quite right," said I, realizing the situation; "quite right. Six hundred melons are enough for any man.
But only those who seek truth with their whole being are her true children; and to these the voice of Christ, when it is discerned, is like the sunrise to the statue of Memnon or as the call of spring to the responsive earth. Alas! Pilate was no such man. He was incapable of spiritual aspiration; he was of the earth earthy; he sought for nothing which the eye cannot see or the hand handle.
It suffices to say that, as the guest of the gods, my every wish was met with speedy attainment. I could not help but marvel, too, at the appropriateness of everything. What better than that the King of the Ethiopians should be head waiter to the gods! "Things are never dull here, sir," said Memnon, pocketing my dollar and escorting me to my table.
It seemed like a marvellous scheme, and far more humane than that of fattening geese for the sale of their livers. "And this coffee, Memnon? You said it was fresh from the dairy of the gods. You get your coffee from the dairy?" I asked. "The breakfast coffee yes, sir," replied Memnon. "Fresh every morning. You must ask the steward to let you see the café-au-lait herd " "The what?" I demanded.
Now it seemed that though the Greeks had won the Luck of Troy and had defeated the Amazons and the army of Memnon, they were no nearer taking Troy than ever.
Often and often have I left the Loulia very early moored against the long sand islet that faces Luxor when the Nile has not subsided, I have rowed across the quiet water that divided me from the western bank, and, with a happy heart, I have entered into the lovely peace of the great spaces that stretch from the Colossi of Memnon to the Nile, to the mountains, southward toward Armant, northward to Kerekten, to Danfik, to Gueziret-Meteira.
Now Memnon was the son of the bright Dawn, a beautiful Goddess who had loved and married a mortal man, Tithonus. She had asked Zeus, the chief of the Gods, to make her lover immortal, and her prayer was granted.
Now this comparison is precisely that which the ancients employed in speaking of the voice of Memnon. The French travellers thought, like me, that the passage of rarefied air through the fissures of a sonorous stone might have suggested to the Egyptian priests the invention of the juggleries of the Memnomium. We left the rock at four in the morning.
After the death of Hector, Troy did not immediately fall, but receiving aid from new allies still continued its resistance. One of these allies was Memnon, the AETHIOPIAN prince, whose story we have already told. Another was Penthesilea, queen of the Amazons, who came with a band of female warriors. All the authorities attest their valor and the fearful effect of their war-cry.
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