ilt thou
execute Israel one by one as it raises up a leader against thee? Nay;
and wilt thou play the barbarian and put two and a half million at once
to the sword?"

The trio looked uncomfortable, none more so than the Pharaoh. The
prince went on mercilessly.

"Are the Hebrews warriors? Wouldst thou go against a host of
trowel-wielding slaves with an army that levels lances only against
free-born men? And yet, wilt thou wait till all Israel shall crowd
into thy presence and defy thee before thou actest? And again, wilt
thou descend on them with arms now when they may with Justice cry 'What
have we done to thee?' Thou art beset, my father."

The Pharaoh opened his lips as if to answer, but the level eye of the
prince silenced him.

"Thou hast not fathomed the Hebrew's capabilities, my father," Rameses
continued. "In him is a wealth, a power, a magnificence that thy
fathers and mine built up for thee, and the time is ripe for the
garnering of thy profit. What monarch of the sister nations hath two
and a half millions of hereditary slaves--not tributary folk nor
prisoners of war--but slaves that are his as his cattle and his flocks
are his? What monarch before thee had them? None anywhere, at any
time. Thou art rich in bond-people beyond any monarch since the gods
reigned."

The chagrin died on the Pharaoh's face and he wore an expectant look.
The prince continued in even tones.

"By use, they have fitted themselves to the limits laid upon them by
the great Rameses. The feeble have died and the frames of the sturdy
have become like brass. They have bred like beetles in the Nile mud
for numbers. Ignorant of their value, thou hast been indifferent to
their existence. Forgetting them was pampering them. They have lived
on the bounty of Egypt for four hundred years and, save for the wise
inflictions of a year or two by the older Pharaohs, they have
flourished unmolested. How they repay thee, thou seest by this
writing. Now, by the gods, turn the face of a master upon them.
Remove the soft driver, Atsu, and put one in his stead who is worthy
the office. Tickle them to alacrity and obedience with the lash--yoke
them--load them--fill thy canals, thy quarries, thy mines with them--"
He broke off and moved forward a step squarely facing the Pharaoh.

"Thou hast thine artist--that demi-god Mentu, in whom there is
supernatural genius for architecture as well as sculpture. Make him
thy murket[2] as well,