thyfirstbornson——deadisthyson，OPharaoh！Deadisthyson，O
Queen！InmyarmshediedsuddenlyasIlulledhimtohisrest，“andshelaidthebodyofthechilddownontheboardamongthevesselsofgold，amongthegarlandsoflotusflowersandthebeakersofrose-redwine。
ThenPharaohroseandrenthispurplerobesandweptaloud。Meriamunrosetoo，andliftingthebodyofhersonclaspedittoherbreast，andhereyeswereterriblewithwrathandgrief，butsheweptnot。
“Seenowthecursethatthisevilwoman，thisFalseHathor，hathbroughtuponus，“shesaid。
Buttheveryguestssprangupcrying，“ItisnottheHathorwhomweworship，itisnottheHolyHathor，itistheGodsofthosedarkApurawhomthou，OQueen，wiltnotletgo。OnthyheadandtheheadofPharaohbeit，“andevenastheycriedthemurmurwithoutgrewtoashriekofwoe，ashrieksowildandterriblethatthePalacewallsrang。Againthatshriekrose，andyetathirdtime，neverwassuchacryheardinEgypt。AndnowforthefirsttimeinallhisdaysthefaceoftheWanderergrewwhitewithfear，andinfearofheartheprayedforsuccourtohisGoddess——toAphrodite，thedaughterofDione。