I will not force you, I will give you time.

But if on the morning of the third day from this night you still refuse to share my throne, why, then you shall sit upon its footstool." Now, in her anger, Tua threw back her veil, and met him eye to eye.
"You think me great," she said, "and truly you are right, for whatever is my rank, with me go my gods, and in their strength my innocence is great.

Let me be, you petty King of Tat, lest I lift up my voice to heaven, and call down upon you the anger of the gods." "Already, Lady, you have called down upon me the anger of a goddess, that Hathor of whom I spoke, and for the rest I fear them not.

Let them do their worst.

On the third night from this night, as Queen or slave, I swear that you shall be mine.