The Egyptian king sent back some horses--quite a few; he's fearfully stingy!--and he said he liked the gold very much, but what they were really short of was lapis lazuli, so of course we sent him some.

But by that time he'd begun to use the gold to cover the beams of the roof of the Temple of the Sun-God, and he hadn't nearly enough to finish the job, so we sent some more.

And so it went on, oh, for years.

You see each journey takes at least six months.
And at last we asked the hand of his daughter in marriage.' 'Yes, and then ?' said Anthea, who wanted to get to the princess part of the story.
'Well, then,' said the Queen, 'when he'd got everything out of us that he could, and only given the meanest presents in return, he sent to say he would esteem the honour of an alliance very highly, only unfortunately he hadn't any daughter, but he hoped one would be born soon, and if so, she should certainly be reserved for the King of Babylon!' 'What a trick!' said Cyril.
'Yes, wasn't it?
So then we said his sister would do, and then there were more gifts and more journeys; and now at last the tiresome, black-haired thing is coming, and the King may-he-live-for-ever has gone seven days' journey to meet her at Carchemish.

And he's gone in his best chariot, the one inlaid with lapis lazuli and gold, with the gold-plated wheels and onyx-studded hubs--much too great an honour in my opinion.
She'll be here tonight; there'll be a grand banquet to celebrate her arrival.