We drive him from among us, we curse him, we--" At these words Bent-Anat looked now at Ameni, trembling with excitement, now at Pentaur standing opposite to her.

Her face was red and white by turns, as light and shade chase each other on the ground when at noon-day a palm-grove is stirred by a storm.
The poet took a step towards her.
She felt that if he spoke it would be to defend all that she had done, and to ruin himself.

A deep sympathy, a nameless anguish seized her soul, and before Pentaur could open his lips, she had sunk slowly down before Ameni, saying in low tones: "I have sinned and defiled myself; thou hast said it--as Pentaur said it by the hut of the paraschites.

Restore me to cleanness, Ameni, for I am unclean." Like a flame that is crushed out by a hand, so the fire in the high-priest's eye was extinguished.

Graciously, almost lovingly, he looked down on the princess, blessed her and conducted her before the holy of holies, there had clouds of incense wafted round her, anointed her with the nine holy oils, and commanded her to return to the royal castle.
Yet, said he, her guilt was not expiated; she should shortly learn by what prayers and exercises she might attain once more to perfect purity before the Gods, of whom he purposed to enquire in the holy place.
During all these ceremonies the priests stationed in the forecourt continued their lamentations.
The people standing before the temple listened to the priest's chant, and interrupted it from time to time with ringing cries of wailing, for already a dark rumor of what was going on within had spread among the multitude.
The sun was going down.