Our natures are so diverse that our innermost feelings will never be one, but at least we can act in concert for the future, and show forbearance one towards the other." In silence Psamtik bowed down and kissed his father's robe "Not so," exclaimed the latter; "rather let my lips receive thy kiss, as is meet and fitting between father and son! Thou needest not to think again of the evil dream I have related.

Dreams are phantoms, and even if sent by the gods, the interpreters thereof are human and erring.

Thy hand trembles still, thy cheeks are white as thy robe.

I was hard towards thee, harder than a father...." "Harder than a stranger to strangers," interrupted his son.

"Thou hast crushed and broken me, and if till now my face has seldom worn a smile, from this day forward it can be naught but a mirror of my inward misery." "Not so," said Amasis, laying his hand on his son's shoulder.