Moses Read Online Free PDF Page A

face. Yet, as he crawled, he could hear them greeting each other.
    â€œWell, my sister—as young and beautiful as ever. Welcome.”
    â€œThat’s nonsense, and you know it. I am neither young nor beautiful, and I lie in a corner of this palace sick and suffering. I’m as lonely and as forgotten as a woman can be.”
    â€œIf I had only known …”
    â€œThat’s neither here nor there, my brother, and I have a notion that no illness of mine would bring any pain to you. But I didn’t come here to quarrel with you. We’ve done enough quarrelling, and for my part I want to forget it. I came here because you promised me five years ago that on the day of my son’s tenth year you would look at him and give him the god’s blessing.”
    â€œDid I really?”
    â€œIt’s a small matter to you, my brother, but it’s a large matter to me. You did, and I remember quite well.”
    â€œYou always had a good memory, Enekhas-Amon, and my own is rather poor. So this is your son?”
    Moses lay before him shivering, his cheek pressed against the god’s bare foot, his breath choking on the heavy fragrance of perfume, saying to himself, “Please, please, dear god, let me crawl away, but don’t make me stand in front of you.”
    But the god was otherwise disposed, and he said, not unkindly, “Get up, boy, and let me look at you.”
    Moses tried to rise, but strangely enough the will to motion was somehow not communicated to his limbs and he lay there paralysed, begging himself, his legs and his arms to respond to the occasion. Ramses nudged his face gently with his foot.
    â€œCome, boy. Get up! No one’s going to harm you and there’s nothing to be afraid of.” And to Enekhas-Amon he said,
    â€œHow old did you say the lad is?”
    â€œTen years, and you know it, my brother. Now, Moses, get up!”
    His mother’s tone released him from his paralysis and, blushing with shame, Moses managed to get to his feet, to see Ramses chuckling with more amusement than the sight of a frightened boy would seem to warrant. He hung his head in mortification as Ramses said to Enekhas-Amon,
    â€œMy dear sister; accept an apology. I do remember. The name brings it all back—the name, of course. Who else but my own dear sister would defy a thousand years of revered practice? Moses indeed! Now, boy,” he said to Moses, who took his only comfort in the fact that Ramses kept his voice low so that he could not possibly be heard by any except those on the platform, “stop hanging your head like a silly, blushing girl. Straighten up and let everyone see that we have a prince of Egypt here with us. I’m not going to eat you, boy!”
    â€œYes, your holiness.”
    â€œAnd don’t call me ‘holiness,’” he said, almost precisely as the fat priest had. “That name’s in great favour in Egypt these days, but not among our family. It doesn’t sit right, and I’m far from holy; I’m a licentious old goat, as your mother will tell you if you give her half a chance.”
    It was some sort of contest between Ramses and his mother which Moses could not comprehend but only feel in terms of death winging down on them. Surely after what had been said neither he nor Enekhas-Amon had any hope of leaving the throne room alive, and his whole heart pleaded silently with his mother to take heed and bridle her tongue. But far from reading his thoughts, she replied indignantly,
    â€œNever, and you have no right to say that, brother! Where is your justice , your heart? I have taught him only reverence and devotion to the god who sits on Egypt’s throne.”
    â€œMy dear sister, I was only amused by his name, and now you’re making me out to have all sorts of evil notions. Never have I seen a sick woman as full of vinegar as you. Put your hand in mine.”
    More confused than ever, Moses saw his mother