Now, when she was come, she knew me for Harmachis, and, bending herself, she made obeisance to me, and saluted me, calling me Royal, and worthy of all honour, and beloved, and chosen of the Holy Three, ay, and by the name of the Pharaoh! the Deliverer! But I, thinking that terror had made her sick of mind, asked her of what she would speak.
"Is it a great thing," I asked, "that I should slay a lion?
Is it a matter worthy of such talk as thine?
There live, and have lived, men who have slain many lions.

Did not the Divine Amen-hetep the Osirian slay with his own hand more than a hundred lions?
Is it not written on the scarabaeus that hangs within my father's chamber, that he slew lions aforetime?
And have not others done likewise?
Why then, speakest thou thus, O foolish woman ?" All of which I said, because, having now slain the lion, I was minded, after the manner of youth, to hold it as a thing of no account.

But she did not cease to make obeisance, and to call me by names that are too high to be written.
"O Royal One," she cried, "wisely did thy mother prophecy.

Surely the Holy Spirit, the Knepth, was in her, O thou conceived by a God! See the omen.

The lion there--he growls within the Capitol at Rome--and the dead man, he is the Ptolemy--the Macedonian spawn that, like a foreign weed, hath overgrown the land of Nile; with the Macedonian Lagidae thou shalt go to smite the lion of Rome.