But still I wrote on in secret by the light of the lamp in my chamber at night.

Then my sisters married, and one day my father died suddenly while he was reciting prayers in the temple.

I caused him to be embalmed in the best fashion and buried with honour in the tomb he had made ready for himself, although to pay the costs I was obliged to copy Books of the Dead for nearly two years, working so hard that I found no time for the writing of stories.
When at length I was free from debt I met a maiden from Thebes with a beautiful face that always seemed to smile, and she took my heart from my breast into her own.

In the end, after I returned from fighting in the war against the Nine Bow Barbarians, to which I was summoned like other men, I married her.

As for her name, let it be, I will not think of it even to myself.