death-like pallor, sealed lips,
enormous eyes enlarged with black lines, the lids no more lowered than
those of the sacred hawk, inspired by its very immobility a feeling of
respectful fear. One might have thought that these fixt eyes were
searching for eternity and the Infinite; they never seemed to rest on
surrounding objects. The satiety of pleasures, the surfeit of wishes
satisfied as soon as exprest, the isolation of a demigod who has no
equal among mortals, the disgust for perpetual adoration, and as it
were weariness of continual triumph, had forever frozen this face,
implacably gentle and of granite serenity. Osiris judging the souls
could not have had a more majestic and calm expression. A large tame
lion, lying by his side, stretched out its enormous paws like a sphinx
on its pedestal, and blinked its yellow eyes.

A rope, attached to the litter, bound the war chariots of the
vanquished chiefs to the Pharaoh. He dragged them behind him like
animals in leash. These men, with fierce despairing faces, their
elbows drawn together by a strap and forming an ungraceful angle,
tottered awkwardly at every motion of the chariots, driven by
Egyptians.

Next came the chariots of the young princes royal, drawn by
thoroughbred horses, elegantly and nobly formed, with slender legs,
sinewy houghs, their manes cut short like a brush, harnessed by twos,
tossing their red-plumed heads, with metal-bossed headstalls and
frontlets. A curved pole, upheld on their withers, covered with
scarlet panels, two collars surmounted by balls of polished brass,
bound together by a light yoke bent like a bow with upturned ends; a
bellyband and breastband elaborately stitched and embroidered, and
rich housings with red or blue stripes and fringed with tassels,
completed this strong, graceful, and light harness....

In the wake of the princes followed the chariots, the Egyptian
cavalry, twenty thousand in number, each drawn by two horses and
holding three men. They advanced ten in a line, the axletrees
perilously near together, but never coming in contact with each other,
so great was the address of the drivers.

The stamping of the horses, held in with difficulty, the thundering of
the bronze-covered wheels, the metallic clash of weapons, gave to this
line something formidable and imposing enough to raise terror in the
most intrepid bosoms. The helmets, plumes, and breastplates dotted
with red, green, and yellow, the gilded bows and brass