When they were alone, Nitetis drew a breath of relief and said: "Give me your priestly blessing on my long journey into the nether world, and prepare me for my pilgrimage to Osiris."
Nebenchari knelt down by her bed and in a low voice repeated hymns, Nitetis making devotional responses.
The physician represented Osiris, the lord of the nether world--Nitetis the soul, justifying itself before him.
When these ceremonies were ended the sick girl breathed more freely. Nebenchari could not but feel moved in looking at this young suicide. He felt confident that he had saved a soul for the gods of his native land, had cheered the last sad and painful hours of one of God's good creatures. During these last moments, compassion and benevolence had excluded every bitter feeling; but when he remembered that this lovely creature owed all her misery to Amasis too, the old black cloud of thought darkened his mind again.--Nitetis, after lying silent for some time, turned to her new friend with a pleasant smile, and said: "I shall find mercy with the judges of the dead now, shall not I?"
"I hope and believe so."
"Perhaps I may find Tachot before the throne of Osiris, and my father...."
"Your father and mother are waiting for you there. Now in your last hour bless those who begot you, and curse those who have robbed you of your parents, your crown and your life."
"I do not understand you."
"Curse those who robbed you of your parents, crown and life, girl!" cried the physician again, rising to his full height, breathing hard as he said the words, and gazing down on the dying girl. "Curse those wretches, girl! that curse will do more in gaining mercy from the judges of the dead, than thousands of good works!" And as he said this he seized her hand and pressed it violently.
Nitetis looked up uneasily into his indignant face, and stammered in blind obedience, "I curse those who robbed my parents of their throne and lives!"
"Those who robbed my parents of their throne and their lives," she repeated after him, and then crying, "Oh, my heart!" sank back exhausted on the bed.
Nebenchari bent down, and before the royal physicians could return, kissed her forehead gently, murmuring: "She dies my confederate. The gods hearken to the prayers of those who die innocent. By carrying the sword into Egypt, I shall avenge king Hophra's wrongs as well as my own."