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diff --git a/5449-0.txt b/5449-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5f76414 --- /dev/null +++ b/5449-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,21047 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Uarda, Complete, by Georg Ebers + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Uarda, Complete + A Romance Of Ancient Egypt + +Author: Georg Ebers + +Release Date: October 16, 2006 [EBook #5449] +Last Updated: August 25, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UARDA, COMPLETE *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + + +A ROMANCE OF ANCIENT EGYPT + +FROM THE HISTORICAL ROMANCES OF GEORG EBERS + + +By Georg Ebers + + +Translated from the German by Clara Bell + + + + + DEDICATION. + + Thou knowest well from what this book arose. + When suffering seized and held me in its clasp + Thy fostering hand released me from its grasp, + And from amid the thorns there bloomed a rose. + Air, dew, and sunshine were bestowed by Thee, + And Thine it is; without these lines from me. + + + + +PREFACE. + +In the winter of 1873 I spent some weeks in one of the tombs of the +Necropolis of Thebes in order to study the monuments of that solemn city +of the dead; and during my long rides in the silent desert the germ was +developed whence this book has since grown. The leisure of mind and body +required to write it was given me through a long but not disabling illness. + +In the first instance I intended to elucidate this story--like my +“Egyptian Princess”--with numerous and extensive notes placed at the +end; but I was led to give up this plan from finding that it would lead +me to the repetition of much that I had written in the notes to that +earlier work. + +The numerous notes to the former novel had a threefold purpose. In the +first place they served to explain the text; in the second they were +a guarantee of the care with which I had striven to depict the +archaeological details in all their individuality from the records of +the monuments and of Classic Authors; and thirdly I hoped to supply the +reader who desired further knowledge of the period with some guide to +his studies. + +In the present work I shall venture to content myself with the simple +statement that I have introduced nothing as proper to Egypt and to the +period of Rameses that cannot be proved by some authority; the numerous +monuments which have descended to us from the time of the Rameses, +in fact enable the enquirer to understand much of the aspect and +arrangement of Egyptian life, and to follow it step try step through +the details of religious, public, and private life, even of particular +individuals. The same remark cannot be made in regard to their mental +life, and here many an anachronism will slip in, many things will appear +modern, and show the coloring of the Christian mode of thought. + +Every part of this book is intelligible without the aid of notes; but, +for the reader who seeks for further enlightenment, I have added some +foot-notes, and have not neglected to mention such works as afford more +detailed information on the subjects mentioned in the narrative. + +The reader who wishes to follow the mind of the author in this work +should not trouble himself with the notes as he reads, but merely at +the beginning of each chapter read over the notes which belong to the +foregoing one. Every glance at the foot-notes must necessarily disturb +and injure the development of the tale as a work of art. The story +stands here as it flowed from one fount, and was supplied with notes +only after its completion. + +A narrative of Herodotus combined with the Epos of Pentaur, of which +so many copies have been handed down to us, forms the foundation of the +story. + +The treason of the Regent related by the Father of history is referable +perhaps to the reign of the third and not of the second Rameses. But it +is by no means certain that the Halicarnassian writer was in this case +misinformed; and in this fiction no history will be inculcated, only +as a background shall I offer a sketch of the time of Sesostris, from +a picturesque point of view, but with the nearest possible approach to +truth. It is true that to this end nothing has been neglected that could +be learnt from the monuments or the papyri; still the book is only a +romance, a poetic fiction, in which I wish all the facts derived from +history and all the costume drawn from the monuments to be regarded as +incidental, and the emotions of the actors in the story as what I attach +importance to. + +But I must be allowed to make one observation. From studying the +conventional mode of execution of ancient Egyptian art--which was +strictly subject to the hieratic laws of type and proportion--we have +accustomed ourselves to imagine the inhabitants of the Nile-valley in +the time of the Pharaohs as tall and haggard men with little distinction +of individual physiognomy, and recently a great painter has sought to +represent them under this aspect in a modern picture. This is an error; +the Egyptians, in spite of their aversion to foreigners and their strong +attachment to their native soil, were one of the most intellectual and +active people of antiquity; and he who would represent them as they +lived, and to that end copies the forms which remain painted on the +walls of the temples and sepulchres, is the accomplice of those priestly +corrupters of art who compelled the painters and sculptors of the +Pharaonic era to abandon truth to nature in favor of their sacred laws +of proportion. + +He who desires to paint the ancient Egyptians with truth and fidelity, +must regard it in some sort as an act of enfranchisement; that is to +say, he must release the conventional forms from those fetters which +were peculiar to their art and altogether foreign to their real life. +Indeed, works of sculpture remain to us of the time of the first +pyramid, which represent men with the truth of nature, unfettered by the +sacred canon. We can recall the so-called “Village Judge” of Bulaq, the +“Scribe” now in Paris, and a few figures in bronze in different museums, +as well as the noble and characteristic busts of all epochs, which amply +prove how great the variety of individual physiognomy, and, with that, +of individual character was among the Egyptians. Alma Tadelna in +London and Gustav Richter in Berlin have, as painters, treated Egyptian +subjects in a manner which the poet recognizes and accepts with delight. + +Many earlier witnesses than the late writer Flavius Vopiscus might be +referred to who show us the Egyptians as an industrious and peaceful +people, passionately devoted it is true to all that pertains to the +other world, but also enjoying the gifts of life to the fullest extent, +nay sometimes to excess. + +Real men, such as we see around us in actual life, not silhouettes +constructed to the old priestly scale such as the monuments show +us--real living men dwelt by the old Nile-stream; and the poet who would +represent them must courageously seize on types out of the daily life +of modern men that surround him, without fear of deviating too far from +reality, and, placing them in their own long past time, color them only +and clothe them to correspond with it. + +I have discussed the authorities for the conception of love which I have +ascribed to the ancients in the preface to the second edition of “An +Egyptian Princess.” + +With these lines I send Uarda into the world; and in them I add my +thanks to those dear friends in whose beautiful home, embowered in +green, bird-haunted woods, I have so often refreshed my spirit and +recovered my strength, where I now write the last words of this book. + + Rheinbollerhutte, September 22, 1876. + GEORG EBERS. + + + + +PREFACE TO THE FIFTH GERMAN EDITION. + +The earlier editions of “Uarda” were published in such rapid succession, +that no extensive changes in the stereotyped text could be made; but +from the first issue, I have not ceased to correct it, and can now +present to the public this new fifth edition as a “revised” one. + +Having felt a constantly increasing affection for “Uarda” during the +time I was writing, the friendly and comprehensive attention bestowed +upon it by our greatest critics and the favorable reception it met with +in the various classes of society, afforded me the utmost pleasure. + +I owe the most sincere gratitude to the honored gentlemen, who called +my attention to certain errors, and among them will name particularly +Professor Paul Ascherson of Berlin, and Dr. C. Rohrbach of Gotha. Both +will find their remarks regarding mistakes in the geographical location +of plants, heeded in this new edition. + +The notes, after mature deliberation, have been placed at the foot of +the pages instead of at the end of the book. + +So many criticisms concerning the title “Uarda” have recently reached +my ears, that, rather by way of explanation than apology, I will here +repeat what I said in the preface to the third edition. + +This title has its own history, and the more difficult it would be for +me to defend it, the more ready I am to allow an advocate to speak for +me, an advocate who bears a name no less distinguished than that of G. +E. Lessing, who says: + +“Nanine? (by Voltaire, 1749). What sort of title is that? What thoughts +does it awake? Neither more nor less than a title should arouse. A title +must not be a bill of fare. The less it betrays of the contents, the +better it is. Author and spectator are both satisfied, and the ancients +rarely gave their comedies anything but insignificant names.” + +This may be the case with “Uarda,” whose character is less prominent +than some others, it is true, but whose sorrows direct the destinies of +my other heroes and heroines. + +Why should I conceal the fact? The character of “Uarda” and the present +story have grown out of the memory of a Fellah girl, half child, half +maiden, whom I saw suffer and die in a hut at Abu el Qurnah in the +Necropolis of Thebes. + +I still persist in the conviction I have so frequently expressed, the +conviction that the fundamental traits of the life of the soul have +undergone very trivial modifications among civilized nations in all +times and ages, but will endeavor to explain the contrary opinion, held +by my opponents, by calling attention to the circumstance, that +the expression of these emotions show considerable variations among +different peoples, and at different epochs. I believe that Juvenal, one +of the ancient writers who best understood human nature, was right in +saying: + + “Nil erit ulterius, quod nostris moribus addat + Posteritas: eadem cupient facientque minores.” + +Leipsic, October 15th, 1877. + + + + + +U A R D A. + + + + +CHAPTER 1. + +By the walls of Thebes--the old city of a hundred gates--the Nile +spreads to a broad river; the heights, which follow the stream on both +sides, here take a more decided outline; solitary, almost cone-shaped +peaks stand out sharply from the level background of the many-colored. +limestone hills, on which no palm-tree flourishes and in which no humble +desert-plant can strike root. Rocky crevasses and gorges cut more or +less deeply into the mountain range, and up to its ridge extends the +desert, destructive of all life, with sand and stones, with rocky cliffs +and reef-like, desert hills. + +Behind the eastern range the desert spreads to the Red Sea; behind the +western it stretches without limit, into infinity. In the belief of the +Egyptians beyond it lay the region of the dead. + +Between these two ranges of hills, which serve as walls or ramparts to +keep back the desert-sand, flows the fresh and bounteous Nile, bestowing +blessing and abundance; at once the father and the cradle of millions of +beings. On each shore spreads the wide plain of black and fruitful soil, +and in the depths many-shaped creatures, in coats of mail or scales, +swarm and find subsistence. + +The lotos floats on the mirror of the waters, and among the papyrus +reeds by the shore water-fowl innumerable build their nests. Between the +river and the mountain-range lie fields, which after the seed-time are +of a shining blue-green, and towards the time of harvest glow like gold. +Near the brooks and water-wheels here and there stands a shady sycamore; +and date-palms, carefully tended, group themselves in groves. The +fruitful plain, watered and manured every year by the inundation, lies +at the foot of the sandy desert-hills behind it, and stands out like a +garden flower-bed from the gravel-path. + +In the fourteenth century before Christ--for to so remote a date we must +direct the thoughts of the reader--impassable limits had been set by the +hand of man, in many places in Thebes, to the inroads of the water; high +dykes of stone and embankments protected the streets and squares, the +temples and the palaces, from the overflow. + +Canals that could be tightly closed up led from the dykes to the land +within, and smaller branch-cuttings to the gardens of Thebes. + +On the right, the eastern bank of the Nile, rose the buildings of +the far-famed residence of the Pharaohs. Close by the river stood the +immense and gaudy Temples of the city of Amon; behind these and at a +short distance from the Eastern hills--indeed at their very foot and +partly even on the soil of the desert--were the palaces of the King and +nobles, and the shady streets in which the high narrow houses of the +citizens stood in close rows. + +Life was gay and busy in the streets of the capital of the Pharaohs. + +The western shore of the Nile showed a quite different scene. Here too +there was no lack of stately buildings or thronging men; but while on +the farther side of the river there was a compact mass of houses, and +the citizens went cheerfully and openly about their day’s work, on this +side there were solitary splendid structures, round which little houses +and huts seemed to cling as children cling to the protection of a +mother. And these buildings lay in detached groups. + +Any one climbing the hill and looking down would form the notion that +there lay below him a number of neighboring villages, each with its +lordly manor house. Looking from the plain up to the precipice of the +western hills, hundreds of closed portals could be seen, some solitary, +others closely ranged in rows; a great number of them towards the foot +of the slope, yet more half-way up, and a few at a considerable height. + +And even more dissimilar were the slow-moving, solemn groups in the +roadways on this side, and the cheerful, confused throng yonder. There, +on the eastern shore, all were in eager pursuit of labor or recreation, +stirred by pleasure or by grief, active in deed and speech; here, in +the west, little was spoken, a spell seemed to check the footstep of the +wanderer, a pale hand to sadden the bright glance of every eye, and to +banish the smile from every lip. + +And yet many a gaily-dressed bark stopped at the shore, there was no +lack of minstrel bands, grand processions passed on to the western +heights; but the Nile boats bore the dead, the songs sung here were +songs of lamentation, and the processions consisted of mourners +following the sarcophagus. + +We are standing on the soil of the City of the Dead of Thebes. + +Nevertheless even here nothing is wanting for return and revival, for to +the Egyptian his dead died not. He closed his eyes, he bore him to the +Necropolis, to the house of the embalmer, or Kolchytes, and then to the +grave; but he knew that the souls of the departed lived on; that the +justified absorbed into Osiris floated over the Heavens in the vessel +of the Sun; that they appeared on earth in the form they choose to take +upon them, and that they might exert influence on the current of the +lives of the survivors. So he took care to give a worthy interment to +his dead, above all to have the body embalmed so as to endure long: and +had fixed times to bring fresh offerings for the dead of flesh and fowl, +with drink-offerings and sweet-smelling essences, and vegetables and +flowers. + +Neither at the obsequies nor at the offerings might the ministers of +the gods be absent, and the silent City of the Dead was regarded as a +favored sanctuary in which to establish schools and dwellings for the +learned. + +So it came to pass that in the temples and on the site Of the +Necropolis, large communities of priests dwelt together, and close to +the extensive embalming houses lived numerous Kolchytes, who handed down +the secrets of their art from father to son. + +Besides these there were other manufactories and shops. In the former, +sarcophagi of stone and of wood, linen bands for enveloping mummies, and +amulets for decorating them, were made; in the latter, merchants kept +spices and essences, flowers, fruits, vegetables and pastry for sale. +Calves, gazelles, goats, geese and other fowl, were fed on enclosed +meadow-plats, and the mourners betook themselves thither to select what +they needed from among the beasts pronounced by the priests to be clean +for sacrifice, and to have them sealed with the sacred seal. Many bought +only part of a victim at the shambles--the poor could not even do +this. They bought only colored cakes in the shape of beasts, which +symbolically took the place of the calves and geese which their means +were unable to procure. In the handsomest shops sat servants of the +priests, who received forms written on rolls of papyrus which were +filled up in the writing room of the temple with those sacred verses +which the departed spirit must know and repeat to ward off the evil +genius of the deep, to open the gate of the under world, and to be held +righteous before Osiris and the forty-two assessors of the subterranean +court of justice. + +What took place within the temples was concealed from view, for each +was surrounded by a high enclosing wall with lofty, carefully-closed +portals, which were only opened when a chorus of priests came out to +sing a pious hymn, in the morning to Horus the rising god, and in the +evening to Tum the descending god. + + [The course of the Sun was compared to that of the life of Man. + He rose as the child Horns, grew by midday to the hero Ra, who + conquered the Uraeus snake for his diadem, and by evening was an old + Man, Tum. Light had been born of darkness, hence Tum was regarded + as older than Horns and the other gods of light.] + +As soon as the evening hymn of the priests was heard, the Necropolis was +deserted, for the mourners and those who were visiting the graves were +required by this time to return to their boats and to quit the City of +the Dead. Crowds of men who had marched in the processions of the +west bank hastened in disorder to the shore, driven on by the body of +watchmen who took it in turns to do this duty and to protect the graves +against robbers. The merchants closed their booths, the embalmers and +workmen ended their day’s work and retired to their houses, the priests +returned to the temples, and the inns were filled with guests, who +had come hither on long pilgrimages from a distance, and who preferred +passing the night in the vicinity of the dead whom they had come to +visit, to going across to the bustling noisy city farther shore. + +The voices of the singers and of the wailing women were hushed, even the +song of the sailors on the numberless ferry boats from the western shore +to Thebes died away, its faint echo was now and then borne across on the +evening air, and at last all was still. + +A cloudless sky spread over the silent City of the Dead, now and then +darkened for an instant by the swiftly passing shade of a bat returning +to its home in a cave or cleft of the rock after flying the whole +evening near the Nile to catch flies, to drink, and so prepare itself +for the next day’s sleep. From time to time black forms with long +shadows glided over the still illuminated plain--the jackals, who +at this hour frequented the shore to slake their thirst, and often +fearlessly showed themselves in troops in the vicinity of the pens of +geese and goats. + +It was forbidden to hunt these robbers, as they were accounted sacred to +the god Anubis, the tutelary of sepulchres; and indeed they did little +mischief, for they found abundant food in the tombs. + + [The jackal-headed god Anubis was the son of Osiris and Nephthys, + and the jackal was sacred to him. In the earliest ages even he is + prominent in the nether world. He conducts the mummifying process, + preserves the corpse, guards the Necropolis, and, as Hermes + Psychopompos (Hermanubis), opens the way for the souls. According + to Plutarch “He is the watch of the gods as the dog is the watch of + men.”] + +The remnants of the meat offerings from the altars were consumed by +them; to the perfect satisfaction of the devotees, who, when they found +that by the following day the meat had disappeared, believed that it had +been accepted and taken away by the spirits of the underworld. + +They also did the duty of trusty watchers, for they were a dangerous foe +for any intruder who, under the shadow of the night, might attempt to +violate a grave. + +Thus--on that summer evening of the year 1352 B.C., when we invite the +reader to accompany us to the Necropolis of Thebes--after the priests’ +hymn had died away, all was still in the City of the Dead. + +The soldiers on guard were already returning from their first round when +suddenly, on the north side of the Necropolis, a dog barked loudly; soon +a second took up the cry, a third, a fourth. The captain of the watch +called to his men to halt, and, as the cry of the dogs spread and grew +louder every minute, commanded them to march towards the north. + +The little troop had reached the high dyke which divided the west bank +of the Nile from a branch canal, and looked from thence over the plain +as far as the river and to the north of the Necropolis. Once more +the word to “halt” was given, and as the guard perceived the glare +of torches in the direction where the dogs were barking loudest, they +hurried forward and came up with the author of the disturbance near +the Pylon of the temple erected by Seti I., the deceased father of the +reigning King Rameses II. + + [The two pyramidal towers joined by a gateway which formed the + entrance to an Egyptian temple were called the Pylon.] + +The moon was up, and her pale light flooded the stately structure, while +the walls glowed with the ruddy smoky light of the torches which flared +in the hands of black attendants. + +A man of sturdy build, in sumptuous dress, was knocking at the +brass-covered temple door with the metal handle of a whip, so violently +that the blows rang far and loud through the night. Near him stood a +litter, and a chariot, to which were harnessed two fine horses. In the +litter sat a young woman, and in the carriage, next to the driver, was +the tall figure of a lady. Several men of the upper classes and many +servants stood around the litter and the chariot. Few words were +exchanged; the whole attention of the strangely lighted groups seemed +concentrated on the temple-gate. The darkness concealed the features +of individuals, but the mingled light of the moon and the torches was +enough to reveal to the gate-keeper, who looked down on the party from a +tower of the Pylon, that it was composed of persons of the highest rank; +nay, perhaps of the royal family. + +He called aloud to the one who knocked, and asked him what was his will. + +He looked up, and in a voice so rough and imperious, that the lady in +the litter shrank in horror as its tones suddenly violated the place of +the dead, he cried out--“How long are we to wait here for you--you +dirty hound? Come down and open the door and then ask questions. If +the torch-light is not bright enough to show you who is waiting, I will +score our name on your shoulders with my whip, and teach you how to +receive princely visitors.” + +While the porter muttered an unintelligible answer and came down the +steps within to open the door, the lady in the chariot turned to her +impatient companion and said in a pleasant but yet decided voice, “You +forget, Paaker, that you are back again in Egypt, and that here you have +to deal not with the wild Schasu,--[A Semitic race of robbers in the +cast of Egypt.]--but with friendly priests of whom we have to solicit +a favor. We have always had to lament your roughness, which seems to +me very ill-suited to the unusual circumstances under which we approach +this sanctuary.” + +Although these words were spoken in a tone rather of regret than of +blame, they wounded the sensibilities of the person addressed; his wide +nostrils began to twitch ominously, he clenched his right hand over the +handle of his whip, and, while he seemed to be bowing humbly, he struck +such a heavy blow on the bare leg of a slave who was standing near +to him, an old Ethiopian, that he shuddered as if from sudden cold, +though-knowing his lord only too well--he let no cry of pain escape him. +Meanwhile the gate-keeper had opened the door, and with him a tall young +priest stepped out into the open air to ask the will of the intruders. + +Paaker would have seized the opportunity of speaking, but the lady in +the chariot interposed and said: + +“I am Bent-Anat, the daughter of the King, and this lady in the litter +is Nefert, the wife of the noble Mena, the charioteer of my father. We +were going in company with these gentlemen to the north-west valley of +the Necropolis to see the new works there. You know the narrow pass in +the rocks which leads up the gorge. On the way home I myself held the +reins and I had the misfortune to drive over a girl who sat by the road +with a basket full of flowers, and to hurt her--to hurt her very badly +I am afraid. The wife of Mena with her own hands bound up the child, and +then she carried her to her father’s house--he is a paraschites--[One +who opened the bodies of the dead to prepare them for being +embalmed.]--Pinem is his name. I know not whether he is known to you.” + +“Thou hast been into his house, Princess?” + +“Indeed, I was obliged, holy father,” she replied, “I know of course +that I have defiled myself by crossing the threshold of these people, +but--” + +“But,” cried the wife of Mena, raising herself in her litter, “Bent-Anat +can in a day be purified by thee or by her house-priest, while she can +hardly--or perhaps never--restore the child whole and sound again to the +unhappy father.” + +“Still, the den of a paraschites is above every thing unclean,” said +the chamberlain Penbesa, master of the ceremonies to the princess, +interrupting the wife of Mena, “and I did not conceal my opinion when +Bent-Anat announced her intention of visiting the accursed hole in +person. I suggested,” he continued, turning to the priest, “that she +should let the girl be taken home, and send a royal present to the +father.” + +“And the princess?” asked the priest. + +“She acted, as she always does, on her own judgment,” replied the master +of the ceremonies. + +“And that always hits on the right course,” cried the wife of Mena. + +“Would to God it were so!” said the princess in a subdued voice. Then +she continued, addressing the priest, “Thou knowest the will of the Gods +and the hearts of men, holy father, and I myself know that I give alms +willingly and help the poor even when there is none to plead for them +but their poverty. But after what has occurred here, and to these +unhappy people, it is I who come as a suppliant.” + +“Thou?” said the chamberlain. + +“I,” answered the princess with decision. The priest who up to this +moment had remained a silent witness of the scene raised his right hand +as in blessing and spoke. + +“Thou hast done well. The Hathors fashioned thy heart and the Lady of +Truth guides it. Thou hast broken in on our night-prayers to request us +to send a doctor to the injured girl?” + + [Hathor was Isis under a substantial form. She is the goddess of + the pure, light heaven, and bears the Sun-disk between cow-horns on + a cow’s head or on a human head with cow’s ears. She was named the + Fair, and all the pure joys of life are in her gift. Later she was + regarded as a Muse who beautifies life with enjoyment, love, song, + and the dance. She appears as a good fairy by the cradle of + children and decides their lot in life. She bears many names: and + several, generally seven, Hathors were represented, who personified + the attributes and influence of the goddess.] + +“Thou hast said.” + +“I will ask the high-priest to send the best leech for outward wounds +immediately to the child. But where is the house of the paraschites +Pinem? I do not know it.” + +“Northwards from the terrace of Hatasu,--[A great queen of the 18th +dynasty and guardian of two Pharaohs]--close to--; but I will charge one +of my attendants to conduct the leech. Besides, I want to know early in +the morning how the child is doing.--Paaker.” + +The rough visitor, whom we already know, thus called upon, bowed to the +earth, his arms hanging by his sides, and asked: + +“What dost thou command?” + +“I appoint you guide to the physician,” said the princess. “It will be +easy to the king’s pioneer to find the little half-hidden house again-- + + [The title here rendered pioneer was that of an officer whose duties + were those at once of a scout and of a Quarter-Master General. In + unknown and comparatively savage countries it was an onerous post. + --Translator.] + +besides, you share my guilt, for,” she added, turning to the priest, “I +confess that the misfortune happened because I would try with my horses +to overtake Paaker’s Syrian racers, which he declared to be swifter than +the Egyptian horses. It was a mad race.” + +“And Amon be praised that it ended as it did,” exclaimed the master of +the ceremonies. “Packer’s chariot lies dashed in pieces in the valley, +and his best horse is badly hurt.” + +“He will see to him when he has taken the physician to the house of the +paraschites,” said the princess. “Dost thou know, Penbesa--thou anxious +guardian of a thoughtless girl--that to-day for the first time I am glad +that my father is at the war in distant Satiland?”--[Asia]. + +“He would not have welcomed us kindly!” said the master of the +ceremonies, laughing. + +“But the leech, the leech!” cried Bent-Anat. “Packer, it is settled +then. You will conduct him, and bring us to-morrow morning news of the +wounded girl.” + +Paaker bowed; the princess bowed her head; the priest and his +companions, who meanwhile had come out of the temple and joined him, +raised their hands in blessing, and the belated procession moved towards +the Nile. + +Paaker remained alone with his two slaves; the commission with which +the princess had charged him greatly displeased him. So long as the +moonlight enabled him to distinguish the litter of Mena’s wife, he gazed +after it; then he endeavored to recollect the position of the hut of the +paraschites. The captain of the watch still stood with the guard at the +gate of the temple. + +“Do you know the dwelling of Pinem the paraschites?” asked Paaker. + +“What do you want with him?” + +“That is no concern of yours,” retorted Paaker. + +“Lout!” exclaimed the captain, “left face and forwards, my men.” + +“Halt!” cried Paaker in a rage. “I am the king’s chief pioneer.” + +“Then you will all the more easily find the way back by which you came. +March.” + +The words were followed by a peal of many-voiced laughter: the +re-echoing insult so confounded Paaker that he dropped his whip on the +ground. The slave, whom a short time since he had struck with it, humbly +picked it up and then followed his lord into the fore court of the +temple. Both attributed the titter, which they still could hear without +being able to detect its origin, to wandering spirits. But the mocking +tones had been heard too by the old gate-keeper, and the laughers were +better known to him than to the king’s pioneer; he strode with heavy +steps to the door of the temple through the black shadow of the pylon, +and striking blindly before him called out-- + +“Ah! you good-for-nothing brood of Seth.” + + [The Typhon of the Greeks. The enemy of Osiris, of truth, good + and purity. Discord and strife in nature. Horns who fights against + him for his father Osiris, can throw him and stun him, but never + annihilate him.] + +“You gallows-birds and brood of hell--I am coming.” + +The giggling ceased; a few youthful figures appeared in the moonlight, +the old man pursued them panting, and, after a short chase, a troop of +youths fled back through the temple gate. + +The door-keeper had succeeded in catching one miscreant, a boy of +thirteen, and held him so tight by the ear that his pretty head seemed +to have grown in a horizontal direction from his shoulders. + +“I will take you before the school-master, you plague-of-locusts, +you swarm of bats!” cried the old man out of breath. But the dozen of +school-boys, who had availed themselves of the opportunity to break out +of bounds, gathered coaxing round him, with words of repentance, though +every eye sparkled with delight at the fun they had had, and of which no +one could deprive them; and when the biggest of them took the old man’s +chin, and promised to give him the wine which his mother was to send him +next day for the week’s use, the porter let go his prisoner--who tried +to rub the pain out of his burning ear--and cried out in harsher tones +than before: + +“You will pay me, will you, to let you off! Do you think I will let your +tricks pass? You little know this old man. I will complain to the Gods, +not to the school-master; and as for your wine, youngster, I will offer +it as a libation, that heaven may forgive you.” + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +The temple where, in the fore-court, Paaker was waiting, and where +the priest had disappeared to call the leech, was called the “House of +Seti”--[It is still standing and known as the temple of Qurnah.]--and +was one of the largest in the City of the Dead. Only that magnificent +building of the time of the deposed royal race of the reigning king’s +grandfather--that temple which had been founded by Thotmes III., +and whose gate-way Amenophis III. had adorned with immense colossal +statues--[That which stands to the north is the famous musical statue, +or Pillar of Memmon]--exceeded it in the extent of its plan; in every +other respect it held the pre-eminence among the sanctuaries of the +Necropolis. Rameses I. had founded it shortly after he succeeded in +seizing the Egyptian throne; and his yet greater son Seti carried on the +erection, in which the service of the dead for the Manes of the members +of the new royal family was conducted, and the high festivals held in +honor of the Gods of the under-world. Great sums had been expended +for its establishment, for the maintenance of the priesthood of its +sanctuary, and the support of the institutions connected with it. These +were intended to be equal to the great original foundations of priestly +learning at Heliopolis and Memphis; they were regulated on the same +pattern, and with the object of raising the new royal residence of Upper +Egypt, namely Thebes, above the capitals of Lower Egypt in regard to +philosophical distinction. + +One of the most important of these foundations was a very celebrated +school of learning. + + [Every detail of this description of an Egyptian school is derived + from sources dating from the reign of Rameses II. and his + successor, Merneptah.] + +First there was the high-school, in which priests, physicians, judges, +mathematicians, astronomers, grammarians, and other learned men, not +only had the benefit of instruction, but, subsequently, when they had +won admission to the highest ranks of learning, and attained the dignity +of “Scribes,” were maintained at the cost of the king, and enabled to +pursue their philosophical speculations and researches, in freedom +from all care, and in the society of fellow-workers of equal birth and +identical interests. + +An extensive library, in which thousands of papyrus-rolls were +preserved, and to which a manufactory of papyrus was attached, was at +the disposal of the learned; and some of them were intrusted with +the education of the younger disciples, who had been prepared in +the elementary school, which was also dependent on the House--or +university--of Seti. The lower school was open to every son of a free +citizen, and was often frequented by several hundred boys, who also +found night-quarters there. The parents were of course required either +to pay for their maintenance, or to send due supplies of provisions for +the keep of their children at school. + +In a separate building lived the temple-boarders, a few sons of the +noblest families, who were brought up by the priests at a great expense +to their parents. + +Seti I., the founder of this establishment, had had his own sons, not +excepting Rameses, his successor, educated here. + +The elementary schools were strictly ruled, and the rod played so +large a part in them, that a pedagogue could record this saying: “The +scholar’s ears are at his back: when he is flogged then he hears.” + +Those youths who wished to pass up from the lower to the high-school +had to undergo an examination. The student, when he had passed it, +could choose a master from among the learned of the higher grades, +who undertook to be his philosophical guide, and to whom he remained +attached all his life through, as a client to his patron. He could +obtain the degree of “Scribe” and qualify for public office by a second +examination. + +Near to these schools of learning there stood also a school of art, in +which instruction was given to students who desired to devote themselves +to architecture, sculpture, or painting; in these also the learner might +choose his master. + +Every teacher in these institutions belonged to the priesthood of the +House of Seti. It consisted of more than eight hundred members, divided +into five classes, and conducted by three so-called Prophets. + +The first prophet was the high-priest of the House of Seti, and at the +same time the superior of all the thousands of upper and under servants +of the divinities which belonged to the City of the Dead of Thebes. + +The temple of Seti proper was a massive structure of limestone. A row +of Sphinxes led from the Nile to the surrounding wall, and to the +first vast pro-pylon, which formed the entrance to a broad fore-court, +enclosed on the two sides by colonnades, and beyond which stood a second +gate-way. When he had passed through this door, which stood between two +towers, in shape like truncated pyramids, the stranger came to a second +court resembling the first, closed at the farther end by a noble row of +pillars, which formed part of the central temple itself. + +The innermost and last was dimly lighted by a few lamps. + +Behind the temple of Seti stood large square structures of brick of the +Nile mud, which however had a handsome and decorative effect, as the +humble material of which they were constructed was plastered with +lime, and that again was painted with colored pictures and hieroglyphic +inscriptions. + +The internal arrangement of all these houses was the same. In the midst +was an open court, on to which opened the doors of the rooms of the +priests and philosophers. On each side of the court was a shady, covered +colonnade of wood, and in the midst a tank with ornamental plants. In +the upper story were the apartments for the scholars, and instruction +was usually given in the paved courtyard strewn with mats. + +The most imposing was the house of the chief prophets; it was +distinguished by its waving standards and stood about a hundred paces +behind the temple of Seti, between a well kept grove and a clear +lake--the sacred tank of the temple; but they only occupied it while +fulfilling their office, while the splendid houses which they lived in +with their wives and children, lay on the other side of the river, in +Thebes proper. + +The untimely visit to the temple could not remain unobserved by the +colony of sages. Just as ants when a hand breaks in on their dwelling, +hurry restlessly hither and thither, so an unwonted stir had agitated, +not the school-boys only, but the teachers and the priests. They +collected in groups near the outer walls, asking questions and hazarding +guesses. A messenger from the king had arrived--the princess Bent-Anat +had been attacked by the Kolchytes--and a wag among the school-boys who +had got out, declared that Paaker, the king’s pioneer, had been brought +into the temple by force to be made to learn to write better. As the +subject of the joke had formerly been a pupil of the House of Seti, and +many delectable stories of his errors in penmanship still survived in +the memory of the later generation of scholars, this information was +received with joyful applause; and it seemed to have a glimmer of +probability, in spite of the apparent contradiction that Paaker filled +one of the highest offices near the king, when a grave young priest +declared that he had seen the pioneer in the forecourt of the temple. + +The lively discussion, the laughter and shouting of the boys at such an +unwonted hour, was not unobserved by the chief priest. + +This remarkable prelate, Ameni the son of Nebket, a scion of an old +and noble family, was far more than merely the independent head of +the temple-brotherhood, among whom he was prominent for his power and +wisdom; for all the priesthood in the length and breadth of the land +acknowledged his supremacy, asked his advice in difficult cases, and +never resisted the decisions in spiritual matters which emanated from +the House of Seti--that is to say, from Ameni. He was the embodiment +of the priestly idea; and if at times he made heavy--nay +extraordinary--demands on individual fraternities, they were submitted +to, for it was known by experience that the indirect roads which he +ordered them to follow all converged on one goal, namely the exaltation +of the power and dignity of the hierarchy. The king appreciated this +remarkable man, and had long endeavored to attach him to the court, as +keeper of the royal seal; but Ameni was not to be induced to give up +his apparently modest position; for he contemned all outward show +and ostentatious titles; he ventured sometimes to oppose a decided +resistance to the measures of the Pharaoh, + + [Pharaoh is the Hebrew form of the Egyptian Peraa--or Phrah. “The + great house,” “sublime house,” or “high gate” is the literal + meaning.] + +and was not minded to give up his unlimited control of the priests for +the sake of a limited dominion over what seemed to him petty external +concerns, in the service of a king who was only too independent and hard +to influence. + +He regularly arranged his mode and habits of life in an exceptional way. + +Eight days out of ten he remained in the temple entrusted to his charge; +two he devoted to his family, who lived on the other bank of the Nile; +but he let no one, not even those nearest to him, know what portion of +the ten days he gave up to recreation. He required only four hours of +sleep. This he usually took in a dark room which no sound could reach, +and in the middle of the day; never at night, when the coolness and +quiet seemed to add to his powers of work, and when from time to time he +could give himself up to the study of the starry heavens. + +All the ceremonials that his position required of him, the cleansing, +purification, shaving, and fasting he fulfilled with painful exactitude, +and the outer bespoke the inner man. + +Ameni was entering on his fiftieth year; his figure was tall, and had +escaped altogether the stoutness to which at that age the Oriental is +liable. The shape of his smoothly-shaven head was symmetrical and of a +long oval; his forehead was neither broad nor high, but his profile was +unusually delicate, and his face striking; his lips were thin and dry, +and his large and piercing eyes, though neither fiery nor brilliant, and +usually cast down to the ground under his thick eyebrows, were raised +with a full, clear, dispassionate gaze when it was necessary to see and +to examine. + +The poet of the House of Seti, the young Pentaur, who knew these eyes, +had celebrated them in song, and had likened them to a well-disciplined +army which the general allows to rest before and after the battle, so +that they may march in full strength to victory in the fight. + +The refined deliberateness of his nature had in it much that was royal +as well as priestly; it was partly intrinsic and born with him, partly +the result of his own mental self-control. He had many enemies, but +calumny seldom dared to attack the high character of Amemi. + +The high-priest looked up in astonishment, as the disturbance in the +court of the temple broke in on his studies. + +The room in which he was sitting was spacious and cool; the lower part +of the walls was lined with earthenware tiles, the upper half plastered +and painted. But little was visible of the masterpieces of the artists +of the establishment, for almost everywhere they were concealed by +wooden closets and shelves, in which were papyrus-rolls and wax-tablets. +A large table, a couch covered with a panther’s skin, a footstool in +front of it, and on it a crescent-shaped support for the head, made of +ivory, + + [A support of crescent form on which the Egyptians rested their + heads. Many specimens were found in the catacombs, and similar + objects are still used in Nubia] + +several seats, a stand with beakers and jugs, and another with flasks of +all sizes, saucers, and boxes, composed the furniture of the room, +which was lighted by three lamps, shaped like birds and filled with kiki +oil.--[Castor oil, which was used in the lamps.] + +Ameni wore a fine pleated robe of snow-white linen, which reached to his +ankles, round his hips was a scarf adorned with fringes, which in front +formed an apron, with broad, stiffened ends which fell to his knees; a +wide belt of white and silver brocade confined the drapery of his robe. +Round his throat and far down on his bare breast hung a necklace more +than a span deep, composed of pearls and agates, and his upper arm was +covered with broad gold bracelets. He rose from the ebony seat with +lion’s feet, on which he sat, and beckoned to a servant who squatted by +one of the walls of the sitting-room. He rose and without any word +of command from his master, he silently and carefully placed on the +high-priest’s bare head a long and thick curled wig, + + [Egyptians belonging to the higher classes wore wigs on their shaven + heads. Several are preserved in museums.] + +and threw a leopard-skin, with its head and claws overlaid with +gold-leaf, over his shoulders. A second servant held a metal mirror +before Ameni, in which he cast a look as he settled the panther-skin and +head-gear. + +A third servant was handing him the crosier, the insignia of his dignity +as a prelate, when a priest entered and announced the scribe Pentaur. + +Ameni nodded, and the young priest who had talked with the princess +Bent-Anat at the temple-gate came into the room. + +Pentaur knelt and kissed the hand of the prelate, who gave him his +blessing, and in a clear sweet voice, and rather formal and unfamiliar +language--as if he were reading rather than speaking, said: + +“Rise, my son; your visit will save me a walk at this untimely hour, +since you can inform me of what disturbs the disciples in our temple. +Speak.” + +“Little of consequence has occurred, holy father,” replied Pentaur. “Nor +would I have disturbed thee at this hour, but that a quite unnecessary +tumult has been raised by the youths; and that the princess Bent-Anat +appeared in person to request the aid of a physician. The unusual hour +and the retinue that followed her--” + +“Is the daughter of Pharaoh sick?” asked the prelate. + +“No, father. She is well--even to wantonness, since--wishing to +prove the swiftness of her horses--she ran over the daughter of the +paraschites Pinem. Noble-hearted as she is, she herself carried the +sorely-wounded girl to her house.” + +“She entered the dwelling of the unclean.” + +“Thou hast said.” + +“And she now asks to be purified?” + +“I thought I might venture to absolve her, father, for the purest +humanity led her to the act, which was no doubt a breach of discipline, +but--” + +“But,” asked the high-priest in a grave voice and he raised his eyes +which he had hitherto on the ground. + +“But,” said the young priest, and now his eyes fell, “which can surely +be no crime. When Ra--[The Egyptian Sun-god.]--in his golden bark sails +across the heavens, his light falls as freely and as bountifully on the +hut of the despised poor as on the Palace of the Pharaohs; and shall the +tender human heart withhold its pure light--which is benevolence--from +the wretched, only because they are base?” + +“It is the poet Pentaur that speaks,” said the prelate, “and not the +priest to whom the privilege was given to be initiated into the highest +grade of the sages, and whom I call my brother and my equal. I have no +advantage over you, young man, but perishable learning, which the past +has won for you as much as for me--nothing but certain perceptions and +experiences that offer nothing new, to the world, but teach us, indeed, +that it is our part to maintain all that is ancient in living efficacy +and practice. That which you promised a few weeks since, I many years +ago vowed to the Gods; to guard knowledge as the exclusive possession +of the initiated. Like fire, it serves those who know its uses to the +noblest ends, but in the hands of children--and the people, the mob, +can never ripen into manhood--it is a destroying brand, raging and +unextinguishable, devouring all around it, and destroying all that has +been built and beautified by the past. And how can we remain the Sages +and continue to develop and absorb all learning within the shelter +of our temples, not only without endangering the weak, but for their +benefit? You know and have sworn to act after that knowledge. To bind +the crowd to the faith and the institutions of the fathers is your +duty--is the duty of every priest. Times have changed, my son; under the +old kings the fire, of which I spoke figuratively to you--the poet--was +enclosed in brazen walls which the people passed stupidly by. Now I see +breaches in the old fortifications; the eyes of the uninitiated have +been sharpened, and one tells the other what he fancies he has spied, +though half-blinded, through the glowing rifts.” + +A slight emotion had given energy to the tones of the speaker, and while +he held the poet spell-bound with his piercing glance he continued: + +“We curse and expel any one of the initiated who enlarges these +breaches; we punish even the friend who idly neglects to repair and +close them with beaten brass!” + +“My father!” cried Pentaur, raising his head in astonishment while the +blood mounted to his cheeks. The high-priest went up to him and laid +both hands on his shoulders. + +They were of equal height and of equally symmetrical build; even the +outline of their features was similar. Nevertheless no one would have +taken them to be even distantly related; their countenances were so +infinitely unlike in expression. + +On the face of one were stamped a strong will and the power of firmly +guiding his life and commanding himself; on the other, an amiable desire +to overlook the faults and defects of the world, and to contemplate life +as it painted itself in the transfiguring magic-mirror of his poet’s +soul. Frankness and enjoyment spoke in his sparkling eye, but the subtle +smile on his lips when he was engaged in a discussion, or when his soul +was stirred, betrayed that Pentaur, far from childlike carelessness, had +fought many a severe mental battle, and had tasted the dark waters of +doubt. + +At this moment mingled feelings were struggling in his soul. He felt as +if he must withstand the speaker; and yet the powerful presence of the +other exercised so strong an influence over his mind, long trained to +submission, that he was silent, and a pious thrill passed through him +when Ameni’s hands were laid on his shoulders. + +“I blame you,” said the high-priest, while he firmly held the young man, +“nay, to my sorrow I must chastise you; and yet,” he said, stepping back +and taking his right hand, “I rejoice in the necessity, for I love you +and honor you, as one whom the Unnameable has blessed with high gifts +and destined to great things. Man leaves a weed to grow unheeded or +roots it up but you are a noble tree, and I am like the gardener who +has forgotten to provide it with a prop, and who is now thankful to +have detected a bend that reminds him of his neglect. You look at me +enquiringly, and I can see in your eyes that I seem to you a severe +judge. Of what are you accused? You have suffered an institution of +the past to be set aside. It does not matter--so the short-sighted and +heedless think; but I say to you, you have doubly transgressed, because +the wrong-doer was the king’s daughter, whom all look up to, great and +small, and whose actions may serve as an example to the people. On whom +then must a breach of the ancient institutions lie with the darkest +stain if not on the highest in rank? In a few days it will be said the +paraschites are men even as we are, and the old law to avoid them as +unclean is folly. And will the reflections of the people, think you, end +there, when it is so easy for them to say that he who errs in one point +may as well fail in all? In questions of faith, my son, nothing is +insignificant. If we open one tower to the enemy he is master of the +whole fortress. In these unsettled times our sacred lore is like a +chariot on the declivity of a precipice, and under the wheels thereof a +stone. A child takes away the stone, and the chariot rolls down into the +abyss and is dashed to pieces. Imagine the princess to be that child, +and the stone a loaf that she would fain give to feed a beggar. Would +you then give it to her if your father and your mother and all that is +dear and precious to you were in the chariot? Answer not! the princess +will visit the paraschites again to-morrow. You must await her in the +man’s hut, and there inform her that she has transgressed and must crave +to be purified by us. For this time you are excused from any further +punishment. + +“Heaven has bestowed on you a gifted soul. Strive for that which is +wanting to you--the strength to subdue, to crush for One--and you know +that One--all things else--even the misguiding voice of your heart, the +treacherous voice of your judgment.--But stay! send leeches to the house +of the paraschites, and desire them to treat the injured girl as though +she were the queen herself. Who knows where the man dwells?” + +“The princess,” replied Pentaur, “has left Paaker, the king’s pioneer, +behind in the temple to conduct the leeches to the house of Pinem.” + +The grave high-priest smiled and said. “Paaker! to attend the daughter +of a paraschites.” + +Pentaur half beseechingly and half in fun raised his eyes which he had +kept cast down. “And Pentaur,” he murmured, “the gardener’s son! who is +to refuse absolution to the king’s daughter!” + +“Pentaur, the minister of the Gods--Pentaur, the priest--has not to do +with the daughter of the king, but with the transgressor of the sacred +institutions,” replied Ameni gravely. “Let Paaker know I wish to speak +with him.” + +The poet bowed low and quitted the room, the high priest muttered to +himself: “He is not yet what he should be, and speech is of no effect +with him.” + +For a while he was silent, walking to and fro in meditation; then he +said half aloud, “And the boy is destined to great things. What gifts of +the Gods doth he lack? He has the faculty of learning--of thinking--of +feeling--of winning all hearts, even mine. He keeps himself undefiled +and separate--” suddenly the prelate paused and struck his hand on the +back of a chair that stood by him. “I have it; he has not yet felt the +fire of ambition. We will light it for his profit and our own.” + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +Pentauer hastened to execute the commands of the high-priest. He sent +a servant to escort Paaker, who was waiting in the forecourt, into the +presence of Ameni while he himself repaired to the physicians to impress +on them the most watchful care of the unfortunate girl. + +Many proficients in the healing arts were brought up in the house of +Seti, but few used to remain after passing the examination for the +degree of Scribe. + + [What is here stated with regard to the medical schools is + principally derived from the medical writings of the Egyptians + themselves, among which the “Ebers Papyrus” holds the first place, + “Medical Papyrus I.” of Berlin the second, and a hieratic MS. in + London which, like the first mentioned, has come down to us from the + 18th dynasty, takes the third. Also see Herodotus II. 84. Diodorus + I. 82.] + +The most gifted were sent to Heliopolis, where flourished, in the great +“Hall of the Ancients,” the most celebrated medical faculty of the whole +country, whence they returned to Thebes, endowed with the highest +honors in surgery, in ocular treatment, or in any other branch of +their profession, and became physicians to the king or made a living by +imparting their learning and by being called in to consult on serious +cases. + +Naturally most of the doctors lived on the east bank of the Nile, in +Thebes proper, and even in private houses with their families; but each +was attached to a priestly college. + +Whoever required a physician sent for him, not to his own house, but to +a temple. There a statement was required of the complaint from which the +sick was suffering, and it was left to the principal medical staff of +the sanctuary to select that of the healing art whose special knowledge +appeared to him to be suited for the treatment of the case. + +Like all priests, the physicians lived on the income which came to +them from their landed property, from the gifts of the king, the +contributions of the laity, and the share which was given them of the +state-revenues; they expected no honorarium from their patients, but the +restored sick seldom neglected making a present to the sanctuary whence +a physician had come to them, and it was not unusual for the priestly +leech to make the recovery of the sufferer conditional on certain gifts +to be offered to the temple. + +The medical knowledge of the Egyptians was, according to every +indication, very considerable; but it was natural that physicians, who +stood by the bed of sickness as “ordained servants of the Divinity,” + should not be satisfied with a rational treatment of the sufferer, +and should rather think that they could not dispense with the mystical +effects of prayers and vows. + +Among the professors of medicine in the House of Seti there were men +of the most different gifts and bent of mind; but Pentaur was not for +a moment in doubt as to which should be entrusted with the treatment +of the girl who had been run over, and for whom he felt the greatest +sympathy. + +The one he chose was the grandson of a celebrated leech, long +since dead, whose name of Nebsecht he had inherited, and a beloved +school-friend and old comrade of Pentaur. + +This young man had from his earliest years shown high and hereditary +talent for the profession to which he had devoted himself; he had +selected surgery + + [Among the six hermetic books of medicine mentioned by Clement of + Alexandria, was one devoted to surgical instruments: otherwise the + very badly-set fractures found in some of the mummies do little + honor to the Egyptian surgeons.] + +for his special province at Heliopolis, and would certainly have +attained the dignity of teacher there if an impediment in his speech had +not debarred him from the viva voce recitation of formulas and prayers. + +This circumstance, which was deeply lamented by his parents and tutors, +was in fact, in the best opinions, an advantage to him; for it often +happens that apparent superiority does us damage, and that from apparent +defect springs the saving of our life. + +Thus, while the companions of Nebsecht were employed in declaiming or in +singing, he, thanks to his fettered tongue, could give himself up to his +inherited and almost passionate love of observing organic life; and +his teachers indulged up to a certain point his innate spirit of +investigation, and derived benefit from his knowledge of the human and +animal structures, and from the dexterity of his handling. + +His deep aversion for the magical part of his profession would have +brought him heavy punishment, nay very likely would have cost him +expulsion from the craft, if he had ever given it expression in any +form. But Nebsecht’s was the silent and reserved nature of the learned +man, who free from all desire of external recognition, finds a rich +satisfaction in the delights of investigation; and he regarded every +demand on him to give proof of his capacity, as a vexatious but +unavoidable intrusion on his unassuming but laborious and fruitful +investigations. + +Nebsecht was dearer and nearer to Pentaur than any other of his +associates. + +He admired his learning and skill; and when the slightly-built surgeon, +who was indefatigable in his wanderings, roved through the thickets +by the Nile, the desert, or the mountain range, the young poet-priest +accompanied him with pleasure and with great benefit to himself, for his +companion observed a thousand things to which without him he would have +remained for ever blind; and the objects around him, which were known to +him only by their shapes, derived connection and significance from the +explanations of the naturalist, whose intractable tongue moved freely +when it was required to expound to his friend the peculiarities of +organic beings whose development he had been the first to detect. + +The poet was dear in the sight of Nebsecht, and he loved Pentaur, who +possessed all the gifts he lacked; manly beauty, childlike lightness of +heart, the frankest openness, artistic power, and the gift of expressing +in word and song every emotion that stirred his soul. The poet was as a +novice in the order in which Nebsecht was master, but quite capable of +understanding its most difficult points; so it happened that Nebsecht +attached greater value to his judgment than to that of his own +colleagues, who showed themselves fettered by prejudice, while Pentaur’s +decision always was free and unbiassed. + +The naturalist’s room lay on the ground floor, and had no living-rooms +above it, being under one of the granaries attached to the temple. It +was as large as a public hall, and yet Pentaur, making his way towards +the silent owner of the room, found it everywhere strewed with thick +bundles of every variety of plant, with cages of palm-twigs piled +four or five high, and a number of jars, large and small, covered +with perforated paper. Within these prisons moved all sorts of living +creatures, from the jerboa, the lizard of the Nile, and a light-colored +species of owl, to numerous specimens of frogs, snakes, scorpions and +beetles. + +On the solitary table in the middle of the room, near to a +writing-stand, lay bones of animals, with various sharp flints and +bronze knives. + +In a corner of this room lay a mat, on which stood a wooden head-prop, +indicating that the naturalist was in the habit of sleeping on it. + +When Pentaur’s step was heard on the threshold of this strange abode, +its owner pushed a rather large object under the table, threw a cover +over it, and hid a sharp flint scalpel + + [The Egyptians seem to have preferred to use flint instruments for + surgical purposes, at any rate for the opening of bodies and for + circumcision. Many flint instruments have been found and preserved + in museums.] + +fixed into a wooden handle, which he had just been using, in the folds +of his robe-as a school-boy might hide some forbidden game from his +master. Then he crossed his arms, to give himself the aspect of a man +who is dreaming in harmless idleness. + +The solitary lamp, which was fixed on a high stand near his chair, shed +a scanty light, which, however, sufficed to show him his trusted friend +Pentaur, who had disturbed Nebsecht in his prohibited occupations. +Nebsecht nodded to him as he entered, and, when he had seen who it was, +said: + +“You need not have frightened me so!” Then he drew out from under the +table the object he had hidden--a living rabbit fastened down to a +board-and continued his interrupted observations on the body, which he +had opened and fastened back with wooden pins while the heart continued +to beat. + +He took no further notice of Pentaur, who for some time silently watched +the investigator; then he laid his hand on his shoulder and said: + +“Lock your door more carefully, when you are busy with forbidden +things.” + +“They took--they took away the bar of the door lately,” stammered the +naturalist, “when they caught me dissecting the hand of the forger +Ptahmes.”--[The law sentenced forgers to lose a hand.] + +“The mummy of the poor man will find its right hand wanting,” answered +the poet. + +“He will not want it out there.” + +“Did you bury the least bit of an image in his grave?” + + [Small statuettes, placed in graves to help the dead in the work + performed in the under-world. They have axes and ploughs in their + hands, and seed-bags on their backs. The sixth chapter of the Book + of the Dead is inscribed on nearly all.] + +“Nonsense.” + +“You go very far, Nebsecht, and are not foreseeing, ‘He who needlessly +hurts an innocent animal shall be served in the same way by the spirits +of the netherworld,’ says the law; but I see what you will say. You hold +it lawful to put a beast to pain, when you can thereby increase that +knowledge by which you alleviate the sufferings of man, and enrich--” + +“And do not you?” + +A gentle smile passed over Pentaur’s face; leaned over the animal and +said: + +“How curious! the little beast still lives and breathes; a man would +have long been dead under such treatment. His organism is perhaps of a +more precious, subtle, and so more fragile nature?” + +Nebsecht shrugged his shoulders. + +“Perhaps!” he said. + +“I thought you must know.” + +“I--how should I?” asked the leech. “I have told you--they would not +even let me try to find out how the hand of a forger moves.” + +“Consider, the scripture tells us the passage of the soul depends on the +preservation of the body.” + +Nebsecht looked up with his cunning little eyes and shrugging his +shoulders, said: + +“Then no doubt it is so: however these things do not concern me. Do +what you like with the souls of men; I seek to know something of their +bodies, and patch them when they are damaged as well as may be.” + +“Nay-Toth be praised, at least you need not deny that you are master in +that art.” + + [Toth is the god of the learned and of physicians. The Ibis was + sacred to him, and he was usually represented as Ibis-headed. Ra + created him “a beautiful light to show the name of his evil enemy.” + Originally the Dfoon-god, he became the lord of time and measure. + He is the weigher, the philosopher among the gods, the lord of + writing, of art and of learning. The Greeks called him Hermes + Trismegistus, i.e. threefold or “very great” which was, in fact, in + imitation of the Egyptians, whose name Toth or Techud signified + twofold, in the same way “very great”] + +“Who is master,” asked Nebsecht, “excepting God? I can do nothing, +nothing at all, and guide my instruments with hardly more certainty than +a sculptor condemned to work in the dark.” + +“Something like the blind Resu then,” said Pentaur smiling, “who +understood painting better than all the painters who could see.” + +“In my operations there is a ‘better’ and a ‘worse;’” said Nebsecht, +“but there is nothing ‘good.’” + +“Then we must be satisfied with the ‘better,’ and I have come to claim +it,” said Pentaur. + +“Are you ill?” + +“Isis be praised, I feel so well that I could uproot a palm-tree, but I +would ask you to visit a sick girl. The princess Bent-Anat--” + +“The royal family has its own physicians.” + +“Let me speak! the princess Bent-Anat has run over a young girl, and the +poor child is seriously hurt.” + +“Indeed,” said the student reflectively. “Is she over there in the city, +or here in the Necropolis?” + +“Here. She is in fact the daughter of a paraschites.” + +“Of a paraschites?” exclaimed Nebsecht, once more slipping the rabbit +under the table, “then I will go.” + +“You curious fellow. I believe you expect to find something strange +among the unclean folk.” + +“That is my affair; but I will go. What is the man’s name?” + +“Pinem.” + +“There will be nothing to be done with him,” muttered the student, +“however--who knows?” + +With these words he rose, and opening a tightly closed flask he dropped +some strychnine on the nose and in the mouth of the rabbit, which +immediately ceased to breathe. Then he laid it in a box and said, “I am +ready.” + +“But you cannot go out of doors in this stained dress.” + +The physician nodded assent, and took from a chest a clean robe, which +he was about to throw on over the other! but Pentaur hindered him. +“First take off your working dress,” he said laughing. “I will help you. +But, by Besa, you have as many coats as an onion.” + + [Besa, the god of the toilet of the Egyptians. He was represented + as a deformed pigmy. He led the women to conquest in love, and the + men in war. He was probably of Arab origin.] + +Pentaur was known as a mighty laugher among his companions, and his loud +voice rung in the quiet room, when he discovered that his friend was +about to put a third clean robe over two dirty ones, and wear no less +than three dresses at once. + +Nebsecht laughed too, and said, “Now I know why my clothes were so +heavy, and felt so intolerably hot at noon. While I get rid of my +superfluous clothing, will you go and ask the high-priest if I have +leave to quit the temple.” + +“He commissioned me to send a leech to the paraschites, and added that +the girl was to be treated like a queen.” + +“Ameni? and did he know that we have to do with a paraschites?” + +“Certainly.” + +“Then I shall begin to believe that broken limbs may be set with +vows-aye, vows! You know I cannot go alone to the sick, because my +leather tongue is unable to recite the sentences or to wring rich +offerings for the temple from the dying. Go, while I undress, to the +prophet Gagabu and beg him to send the pastophorus Teta, who usually +accompanies me.” + +“I would seek a young assistant rather than that blind old man.” + +“Not at all. I should be glad if he would stay at home, and only let his +tongue creep after me like an eel or a slug. Head and heart have nothing +to do with his wordy operations, and they go on like an ox treading out +corn.” + + [In Egypt, as in Palestine, beasts trod out the corn, as we learn + from many pictures in the catacombs, even in the remotest ages; + often with the addition of a weighted sledge, to the runners of + which rollers are attached. It is now called noreg.] + +“It is true,” said Pentaur; “just lately I saw the old man singing out +his litanies by a sick-bed, and all the time quietly counting the dates, +of which they had given him a whole sack-full.” + +“He will be unwilling to go to the paraschites, who is poor, and he +would sooner seize the whole brood of scorpions yonder than take a piece +of bread from the hand of the unclean. Tell him to come and fetch me, +and drink some wine. There stands three days’ allowance; in this hot +weather it dims my sight. + +“Does the paraschites live to the north or south of the Necropolis?” + +“I think to the north. Paaker, the king’s pioneer, will show you the +way.” + +“He!” exclaimed the student, laughing. “What day in the calendar is +this, then? + + [Calendars have been preserved, the completest is the papyrus + Sallier IV., which has been admirably treated by F. Chabas. Many + days are noted as lucky, unlucky, etc. In the temples many + Calendars of feasts have been found, the most perfect at Medinet + Abu, deciphered by Dumich.] + +The child of a paraschites is to be tended like a princess, and a leech +have a noble to guide him, like the Pharaoh himself! I ought to have +kept on my three robes!” + +“The night is warm,” said Pentaur. + +“But Paaker has strange ways with him. Only the day before yesterday I +was called to a poor boy whose collar bone he had simply smashed with +his stick. If I had been the princess’s horse I would rather have +trodden him down than a poor little girl.” + +“So would I,” said Pentaur laughing, and left the room to request The +second prophet Gagabu, who was also the head of the medical staff of the +House of Seti, to send the blind pastophorus + + [The Pastophori were an order of priests to which the physicians + belonged.] + +Teta, with his friend as singer of the litany. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +Pentaur knew where to seek Gagabu, for he himself had been invited to +the banquet which the prophet had prepared in honor of two sages who had +lately come to the House of Seti from the university of Chennu. + + [Chennu was situated on a bend of the Nile, not far from the Nubian + frontier; it is now called Gebel Silsilch; it was in very ancient + times the seat of a celebrated seminary.] + +In an open court, surrounded by gaily-painted wooden pillars, and +lighted by many lamps, sat the feasting priests in two long rows on +comfortable armchairs. Before each stood a little table, and servants +were occupied in supplying them with the dishes and drinks, which were +laid out on a splendid table in the middle of the court. Joints of +gazelle, + + [Gazelles were tamed for domestic animals: we find them in the + representations of the herds of the wealthy Egyptians and as + slaughtered for food. The banquet is described from the pictures of + feasts which have been found in the tombs.] + +roast geese and ducks, meat pasties, artichokes, asparagus and other +vegetables, and various cakes and sweetmeats were carried to the guests, +and their beakers well-filled with the choice wines of which there was +never any lack in the lofts of the House of Seti. + + [Cellars maintain the mean temperature of the climate, and in Egypt + are hot Wine was best preserved in shady and airy lofts.] + +In the spaces between the guests stood servants with metal bowls, in +which they might wash their hands, and towels of fine linen. + +When their hunger was appeased, the wine flowed more freely, and each +guest was decked with sweetly-smelling flowers, whose odor was supposed +to add to the vivacity of the conversation. + +Many of the sharers in this feast wore long, snowwhite garments, and +were of the class of the Initiated into the mysteries of the faith, as +well as chiefs of the different orders of priests of the House of Seti. + +The second prophet, Gagabu, who was to-day charged with the conduct of +the feast by Ameni--who on such occasions only showed himself for a few +minutes--was a short, stout man with a bald and almost spherical head. +His features were those of a man of advancing years, but well-formed, +and his smoothly-shaven, plump cheeks were well-rounded. His grey eyes +looked out cheerfully and observantly, but had a vivid sparkle when he +was excited and began to twitch his thick, sensual mouth. + +Close by him stood the vacant, highly-ornamented chair of the +high-priest, and next to him sat the priests arrived from Chennu, two +tall, dark-colored old men. The remainder of the company was arranged in +the order of precedency, which they held in the priests’ colleges, and +which bore no relation to their respective ages. + +But strictly as the guests were divided with reference to their rank, +they mixed without distinction in the conversation. + +“We know how to value our call to Thebes,” said the elder of the +strangers from Chennu, Tuauf, whose essays were frequently used in the +schools,--[Some of them are still in existence]--“for while, on one +hand, it brings us into the neighborhood of the Pharaoh, where life, +happiness, and safety flourish, on the other it procures us the honor +of counting ourselves among your number; for, though the university of +Chennu in former times was so happy as to bring up many great men, whom +she could call her own, she can no longer compare with the House of +Seti. Even Heliopolis and Memphis are behind you; and if I, my humble +self, nevertheless venture boldly among you, it is because I ascribe +your success as much to the active influence of the Divinity in your +temple, which may promote my acquirements and achievements, as to your +great gifts and your industry, in which I will not be behind you. I have +already seen your high-priest Ameni--what a man! And who does not know +thy name, Gagabu, or thine, Meriapu?” + +“And which of you,” asked the other new-comer, “may we greet as the +author of the most beautiful hymn to Amon, which was ever sung in the +land of the Sycamore? Which of you is Pentaur?” + +“The empty chair yonder,” answered Gagabu, pointing to a seat at the +lower end of the table, “is his. He is the youngest of us all, but a +great future awaits him.” + +“And his songs,” added the elder of the strangers. “Without doubt,” + replied the chief of the haruspices,--[One of the orders of priests in +the Egyptian hierarchy]--an old man with a large grey curly head, that +seemed too heavy for his thin neck, which stretched forward--perhaps +from the habit of constantly watching for signs--while his prominent +eyes glowed with a fanatical gleam. “Without doubt the Gods have granted +great gifts to our young friend, but it remains to be proved how he will +use them. I perceive a certain freedom of thought in the youth, which +pains me deeply. Although in his poems his flexible style certainly +follows the prescribed forms, his ideas transcend all tradition; and +even in the hymns intended for the ears of the people I find turns of +thought, which might well be called treason to the mysteries which only +a few months ago he swore to keep secret. For instance he says--and we +sing--and the laity hear-- + + “One only art Thou, Thou Creator of beings; + And Thou only makest all that is created. + +And again-- + + He is one only, Alone, without equal; + Dwelling alone in the holiest of holies.” + + [Hymn to Amon preserved in a papyrus roll at Bulaq, and deciphered + by Grehaut and L. Stern.] + +Such passages as these ought not to be sung in public, at least in times +like ours, when new ideas come in upon us from abroad, like the swarms +of locusts from the East.” + +“Spoken to my very soul!” cried the treasurer of the temple, “Ameni +initiated this boy too early into the mysteries.” + +“In my opinion, and I am his teacher,” said Gagabu, “our brotherhood may +be proud of a member who adds so brilliantly to the fame of our temple. +The people hear the hymns without looking closely at the meaning of the +words. I never saw the congregation more devout, than when the beautiful +and deeply-felt song of praise was sung at the feast of the stairs.” + + [A particularly solemn festival in honor of Amon-Chem, held in the + temple of Medinet-Abu.] + +“Pentaur was always thy favorite,” said the former speaker. “Thou +wouldst not permit in any one else many things that are allowed to +him. His hymns are nevertheless to me and to many others a dangerous +performance; and canst thou dispute the fact that we have grounds for +grave anxiety, and that things happen and circumstances grow up around +us which hinder us, and at last may perhaps crush us, if we do not, +while there is yet time, inflexibly oppose them?” + +“Thou bringest sand to the desert, and sugar to sprinkle over honey,” + exclaimed Gagabu, and his lips began to twitch. “Nothing is now as it +ought to be, and there will be a hard battle to fight; not with the +sword, but with this--and this.” And the impatient man touched his +forehead and his lips. “And who is there more competent than my +disciple? There is the champion of our cause, a second cap of Hor, that +overthrew the evil one with winged sunbeams, and you come and would +clip his wings and blunt his claws! Alas, alas, my lords! will you +never understand that a lion roars louder than a cat, and the sun shines +brighter than an oil-lamp? Let Pentuar alone, I say; or you will do as +the man did, who, for fear of the toothache, had his sound teeth drawn. +Alas, alas, in the years to come we shall have to bite deep into +the flesh, till the blood flows, if we wish to escape being eaten up +ourselves!” + +“The enemy is not unknown to us also,” said the elder priest from +Chennu, “although we, on the remote southern frontier of the kingdom, +have escaped many evils that in the north have eaten into our body like +a cancer. Here foreigners are now hardly looked upon at all as +unclean and devilish.”--[“Typhonisch,” belonging to Typhon or +Seth.--Translator.] + +“Hardly?” exclaimed the chief of the haruspices; “they are invited, +caressed, and honored. Like dust, when the simoon blows through the +chinks of a wooden house, they crowd into the houses and temples, taint +our manners and language; + + [At no period Egyptian writers use more Semitic words than during + the reigns of Rameses II. and his son Mernephtah.] + +nay, on the throne of the successors of Ra sits a descendant--” + +“Presumptuous man!” cried the voice of the high-priest, who at this +instant entered the hall, “Hold your tongue, and be not so bold as +to wag it against him who is our king, and wields the sceptre in this +kingdom as the Vicar of Ra.” + +The speaker bowed and was silent, then he and all the company rose to +greet Ameni, who bowed to them all with polite dignity, took his seat, +and turning to Gagabu asked him carelessly: + +“I find you all in most unpriestly excitement; what has disturbed your +equanimity?” + +“We were discussing the overwhelming influx of foreigners into Egypt, +and the necessity of opposing some resistance to them.” + +“You will find me one of the foremost in the attempt,” replied Ameni. +“We have endured much already, and news has arrived from the north, +which grieves me deeply.” + +“Have our troops sustained a defeat?” + +“They continue to be victorious, but thousands of our countrymen have +fallen victims in the fight or on the march. Rameses demands fresh +reinforcements. The pioneer, Paaker, has brought me a letter from our +brethren who accompany the king, and delivered a document from him +to the Regent, which contains the order to send to him fifty thousand +fighting men: and as the whole of the soldier-caste and all the +auxiliaries are already under arms, the bondmen of the temple, who till +our acres, are to be levied, and sent into Asia.” + +A murmur of disapproval arose at these words. The chief of the +haruspices stamped his foot, and Gagabu asked: + +“What do you mean to do?” + +“To prepare to obey the commands of the king,” answered Ameni, “and to +call the heads of the temples of the city of Anion here without delay to +hold a council. Each must first in his holy of holies seek good counsel +of the Celestials. When we have come to a conclusion, we must next win +the Viceroy over to our side. Who yesterday assisted at his prayers?” + +“It was my turn,” said the chief of the haruspices. + +“Follow me to my abode, when the meal is over.” commanded Ameni. “But +why is our poet missing from our circle?” + +At this moment Pentaur came into the hall, and while he bowed easily and +with dignity to the company and low before Ameni, he prayed him to grant +that the pastophorus Teta should accompany the leech Nebsecht to visit +the daughter of the paraschites. + +Ameni nodded consent and exclaimed: “They must make haste. Paaker waits +for them at the great gate, and will accompany them in my chariot.” + +As soon as Pentaur had left the party of feasters, the old priest from +Chennu exclaimed, as he turned to Ameni: + +“Indeed, holy father, just such a one and no other had I pictured your +poet. He is like the Sun-god, and his demeanor is that of a prince. He +is no doubt of noble birth.” + +“His father is a homely gardener,” said the highpriest, “who indeed +tills the land apportioned to him with industry and prudence, but is +of humble birth and rough exterior. He sent Pentaur to the school at an +early age, and we have brought up the wonderfully gifted boy to be what +he now is.” + +“What office does he fill here in the temple?” + +“He instructs the elder pupils of the high-school in grammar and +eloquence; he is also an excellent observer of the starry heavens, and +a most skilled interpreter of dreams,” replied Gagabu. “But here he is +again. To whom is Paaker conducting our stammering physician and his +assistant?” + +“To the daughter of the paraschites, who has been run over,” answered +Pentaur. “But what a rough fellow this pioneer is. His voice hurts my +ears, and he spoke to our leeches as if they had been his slaves.” + +“He was vexed with the commission the princess had devolved on him,” + said the high-priest benevolently, “and his unamiable disposition is +hardly mitigated by his real piety.” + +“And yet,” said an old priest, “his brother, who left us some years +ago, and who had chosen me for his guide and teacher, was a particularly +loveable and docile youth.” + +“And his father,” said Ameni, “was one of the most superior energetic, +and withal subtle-minded of men.” + +“Then he has derived his bad peculiarities from his mother?” + +“By no means. She is a timid, amiable, soft-hearted woman.” + +“But must the child always resemble its parents?” asked Pentaur. “Among +the sons of the sacred bull, sometimes not one bears the distinguishing +mark of his father.” + +“And if Paaker’s father were indeed an Apis,” Gagabu laughing, +“according to your view the pioneer himself belongs, alas! to the +peasant’s stable.” + +Pentaur did not contradict him, but said with a smile: + +“Since he left the school bench, where his school-fellows called him the +wild ass on account of his unruliness, he has remained always the same. +He was stronger than most of them, and yet they knew no greater pleasure +than putting him in a rage.” + +“Children are so cruel!” said Ameni. “They judge only by appearances, +and never enquire into the causes of them. The deficient are as guilty +in their eyes as the idle, and Paaker could put forward small claims +to their indulgence. I encourage freedom and merriment,” he continued +turning to the priests from Cheraw, “among our disciples, for in +fettering the fresh enjoyment of youth we lame our best assistant. The +excrescences on the natural growth of boys cannot be more surely or +painlessly extirpated than in their wild games. The school-boy is the +school-boy’s best tutor.” + +“But Paaker,” said the priest Meriapu, “was not improved by the +provocations of his companions. Constant contests with them increased +that roughness which now makes him the terror of his subordinates and +alienates all affection.” + +“He is the most unhappy of all the many youths, who were intrusted to my +care,” said Ameni, “and I believe I know why,--he never had a childlike +disposition, even when in years he was still a child, and the Gods had +denied him the heavenly gift of good humor. Youth should be modest, and +he was assertive from his childhood. He took the sport of his companions +for earnest, and his father, who was unwise only as a tutor, encouraged +him to resistance instead of to forbearance, in the idea that he thus +would be steeled to the hard life of a Mohar.” + + [The severe duties of the Mohar are well known from the papyrus of + Anastasi I. in the Brit. Mus., which has been ably treated by F. + Chabas, Voyage d’un Egyptien.] + +“I have often heard the deeds of the Mohar spoken of,” said the old +priest from Chennu, “yet I do not exactly know what his office requires +of him.” + +“He has to wander among the ignorant and insolent people of hostile +provinces, and to inform himself of the kind and number of the +population, to investigate the direction of the mountains, valleys, and +rivers, to set forth his observations, and to deliver them to the house +of war, + + [Corresponding to our minister of war. A person of the highest + importance even in the earliest times.] + +so that the march of the troops may be guided by them.” + +“The Mohar then must be equally skilled as a warrior and as a Scribe.” + +“As thou sayest; and Paaker’s father was not a hero only, but at the +same time a writer, whose close and clear information depicted the +country through which he had travelled as plainly as if it were seen +from a mountain height. He was the first who took the title of Mohar. +The king held him in such high esteem, that he was inferior to no one +but the king himself, and the minister of the house of war.” + +“Was he of noble race?” + +“Of one of the oldest and noblest in the country. His father was the +noble warrior Assa,” answered the haruspex, “and he therefore, after he +himself had attained the highest consideration and vast wealth, escorted +home the niece of the King Hor-em-lieb, who would have had a claim to +the throne, as well as the Regent, if the grandfather of the present +Rameses had not seized it from the old family by violence.” + +“Be careful of your words,” said Ameni, interrupting the rash old man. +“Rameses I. was and is the grandfather of our sovereign, and in the +king’s veins, from his mother’s side, flows the blood of the legitimate +descendants of the Sun-god.” + +“But fuller and purer in those of the Regent the haruspex ventured to +retort. + +“But Rameses wears the crown,” cried Ameni, “and will continue to wear +it so long as it pleases the Gods. Reflect--your hairs are grey, and +seditious words are like sparks, which are borne by the wind, but which, +if they fall, may set our home in a blaze. Continue your feasting, my +lords; but I would request you to speak no more this evening of the king +and his new decree. You, Pentaur, fulfil my orders to-morrow morning +with energy and prudence.” + +The high-priest bowed and left the feast. + +As soon as the door was shut behind him, the old priest from Chennu +spoke. + +“What we have learned concerning the pioneer of the king, a man who +holds so high an office, surprises me. Does he distinguish himself by a +special acuteness?” + +“He was a steady learner, but of moderate ability.” + +“Is the rank of Mohar then as high as that of a prince of the empire?” + +“By no means.” + +“How then is it--?” + +“It is, as it is,” interrupted Gagabu. “The son of the vine-dresser has +his mouth full of grapes, and the child of the door-keeper opens the +lock with words.” + +“Never mind,” said an old priest who had hitherto kept silence. “Paaker +earned for himself the post of Mohar, and possesses many praiseworthy +qualities. He is indefatigable and faithful, quails before no danger, +and has always been earnestly devout from his boyhood. When the +other scholars carried their pocket-money to the fruit-sellers and +confectioners at the temple-gates, he would buy geese, and, when his +mother sent him a handsome sum, young gazelles, to offer to the Gods on +the altars. No noble in the land owns a greater treasure of charms and +images of the Gods than he. To the present time he is the most pious of +men, and the offerings for the dead, which he brings in the name of his +late father, may be said to be positively kingly.” + +“We owe him gratitude for these gifts,” said the treasurer, “and the +high honor he pays his father, even after his death, is exceptional and +far-famed.” + +“He emulates him in every respect,” sneered Gagabu; “and though he +does not resemble him in any feature, grows more and more like him. +But unfortunately, it is as the goose resembles the swan, or the owl +resembles the eagle. For his father’s noble pride he has overbearing +haughtiness; for kindly severity, rude harshness; for dignity, conceit; +for perseverance, obstinacy. Devout he is, and we profit by his gifts. +The treasurer may rejoice over them, and the dates off a crooked tree +taste as well as those off a straight one. But if I were the Divinity I +should prize them no higher than a hoopoe’s crest; for He, who sees into +the heart of the giver-alas! what does he see! Storms and darkness +are of the dominion of Seth, and in there--in there--” and the old man +struck his broad breast “all is wrath and tumult, and there is not a +gleam of the calm blue heaven of Ra, that shines soft and pure in the +soul of the pious; no, not a spot as large as this wheaten-cake.” + +“Hast thou then sounded to the depths of his soul?” asked the haruspex. + +“As this beaker!” exclaimed Gagabu, and he touched the rim of an empty +drinking-vessel. “For fifteen years without ceasing. The man has been of +service to us, is so still, and will continue to be. Our leeches extract +salves from bitter gall and deadly poisons; and folks like these--” + +“Hatred speaks in thee,” said the haruspex, interrupting the indignant +old man. + +“Hatred!” he retorted, and his lips quivered. “Hatred?” and he struck +his breast with his clenched hand. “It is true, it is no stranger to +this old heart. But open thine ears, O haruspex, and all you others too +shall hear. I recognize two sorts of hatred. The one is between man +and man; that I have gagged, smothered, killed, annihilated--with +what efforts, the Gods know. In past years I have certainly tasted its +bitterness, and served it like a wasp, which, though it knows that in +stinging it must die, yet uses its sting. But now I am old in years, +that is in knowledge, and I know that of all the powerful impulses +which stir our hearts, one only comes solely from Seth, one only +belongs wholly to the Evil one and that is hatred between man and man. +Covetousness may lead to industry, sensual appetites may beget noble +fruit, but hatred is a devastator, and in the soul that it occupies all +that is noble grows not upwards and towards the light, but downwards to +the earth and to darkness. Everything may be forgiven by the Gods, save +only hatred between man and man. But there is another sort of hatred +that is pleasing to the Gods, and which you must cherish if you would +not miss their presence in your souls; that is, hatred for all that +hinders the growth of light and goodness and purity--the hatred of Horus +for Seth. The Gods would punish me if I hated Paaker whose father was +dear to me; but the spirits of darkness would possess the old heart +in my breast if it were devoid of horror for the covetous and sordid +devotee, who would fain buy earthly joys of the Gods with gifts of +beasts and wine, as men exchange an ass for a robe, in whose soul +seethe dark promptings. Paaker’s gifts can no more be pleasing to the +Celestials than a cask of attar of roses would please thee, haruspex, in +which scorpions, centipedes, and venomous snakes were swimming. I have +long led this man’s prayers, and never have I heard him crave for noble +gifts, but a thousand times for the injury of the men he hates.” + +“In the holiest prayers that come down to us from the past,” said the +haruspex, “the Gods are entreated to throw our enemies under our feet; +and, besides, I have often heard Paaker pray fervently for the bliss of +his parents.” + +“You are a priest and one of the initiated,” cried Gagabu, “and you know +not--or will not seem to know--that by the enemies for whose overthrow +we pray, are meant only the demons of darkness and the outlandish +peoples by whom Egypt is endangered! Paaker prayed for his parents? Ay, +and so will he for his children, for they will be his future as his fore +fathers are his past. If he had a wife, his offerings would be for her +too, for she would be the half of his own present.” + +“In spite of all this,” said the haruspex Septah, “you are too hard in +your judgment of Paaker, for although he was born under a lucky sign, +the Hathors denied him all that makes youth happy. The enemy for whose +destruction he prays is Mena, the king’s charioteer, and, indeed, he +must have been of superhuman magnanimity or of unmanly feebleness, if he +could have wished well to the man who robbed him of the beautiful wife +who was destined for him.” + +“How could that happen?” asked the priest from Chennu. “A betrothal is +sacred.” + + [In the demotic papyrus preserved at Bulaq (novel by Setnau) first + treated by H. Brugsch, the following words occur: “Is it not the + law, which unites one to another?” Betrothed brides are mentioned, + for instance on the sarcophagus of Unnefer at Bulaq.] + +“Paaker,” replied Septah, “was attached with all the strength of his +ungoverned but passionate and faithful heart to his cousin Nefert, the +sweetest maid in Thebes, the daughter of Katuti, his mother’s +sister; and she was promised to him to wife. Then his father, whom he +accompanied on his marches, was mortally wounded in Syria. The king +stood by his death-bed, and granting his last request, invested his son +with his rank and office: Paaker brought the mummy of his father home +to Thebes, gave him princely interment, and then before the time +of mourning was over, hastened back to Syria, where, while the king +returned to Egypt, it was his duty to reconnoitre the new possessions. +At last he could quit the scene of war with the hope of marrying Nefert. +He rode his horse to death the sooner to reach the goal of his desires; +but when he reached Tanis, the city of Rameses, the news met him that +his affianced cousin had been given to another, the handsomest and +bravest man in Thebes--the noble Mena. The more precious a thing is that +we hope to possess, the more we are justified in complaining of him who +contests our claim, and can win it from us. Paaker’s blood must have +been as cold as a frog’s if he could have forgiven Mena instead of +hating him, and the cattle he has offered to the Gods to bring down +their wrath on the head of the traitor may be counted by hundreds.” + +“And if you accept them, knowing why they are offered, you do unwisely +and wrongly,” exclaimed Gagabu. “If I were a layman, I would take good +care not to worship a Divinity who condescends to serve the foulest +human fiends for a reward. But the omniscient Spirit, that rules +the world in accordance with eternal laws, knows nothing of these +sacrifices, which only tickle the nostrils of the evil one. The +treasurer rejoices when a beautiful spotless heifer is driven in among +our herds. But Seth rubs his red hands + + [Red was the color of Seth and Typhon. The evil one is named the + Red, as for instance in the papyrus of fibers. Red-haired men were + typhonic.] + +with delight that he accepts it. My friends, I have heard the vows which +Paaker has poured out over our pure altars, like hogwash that men set +before swine. Pestilence and boils has he called down on Mena, and +barrenness and heartache on the poor sweet woman; and I really cannot +blame her for preferring a battle-horse to a hippopotamus--a Mena to a +Paaker.” + +“Yet the Immortals must have thought his remonstrances less +unjustifiable, and have stricter views as to the inviolable nature of a +betrothal than you,” said the treasurer, “for Nefert, during four years +of married life, has passed only a few weeks with her wandering husband, +and remains childless. It is hard to me to understand how you, Gagabu, +who so often absolve where we condemn, can so relentlessly judge so +great a benefactor to our temple.” + +“And I fail to comprehend,” exclaimed the old man, “how you--you who so +willingly condemn, can so weakly excuse this--this--call him what you +will.” + +“He is indispensable to us at this time,” said the haruspex. + +“Granted,” said Gagabu, lowering his tone. “And I think still to make +use of him, as the high-priest has done in past years with the best +effect when dangers have threatened us; and a dirty road serves when it +makes for the goal. The Gods themselves often permit safety to come from +what is evil, but shall we therefore call evil good--or say the hideous +is beautiful? Make use of the king’s pioneer as you will, but do +not, because you are indebted to him for gifts, neglect to judge him +according to his imaginings and deeds if you would deserve your title +of the Initiated and the Enlightened. Let him bring his cattle into our +temple and pour his gold into our treasury, but do not defile your souls +with the thought that the offerings of such a heart and such a hand are +pleasing to the Divinity. Above all,” and the voice of the old man had +a heart-felt impressiveness, “Above all, do not flatter the erring +man--and this is what you do, with the idea that he is walking in +the right way; for your, for our first duty, O my friends, is always +this--to guide the souls of those who trust in us to goodness and +truth.” + +“Oh, my master!” cried Pentaur, “how tender is thy severity.” + +“I have shown the hideous sores of this man’s soul,” said the old man, +as he rose to quit the hall. “Your praise will aggravate them, your +blame will tend to heal them. Nay, if you are not content to do your +duty, old Gagabu will come some day with his knife, and will throw the +sick man down and cut out the canker.” + +During this speech the haruspex had frequently shrugged his shoulders. +Now he said, turning to the priests from Chennu-- + +“Gagabu is a foolish, hot-headed old man, and you have heard from his +lips just such a sermon as the young scribes keep by them when they +enter on the duties of the care of souls. His sentiments are excellent, +but he easily overlooks small things for the sake of great ones. Ameni +would tell you that ten souls, no, nor a hundred, do not matter when the +safety of the whole is in question.” + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +The night during which the Princess Bent-Anat and her followers had +knocked at the gate of the House of Seti was past. + +The fruitful freshness of the dawn gave way to the heat, which began to +pour down from the deep blue cloudless vault of heaven. The eye could +no longer gaze at the mighty globe of light whose rays pierced the fine +white dust which hung over the declivity of the hills that enclosed the +city of the dead on the west. The limestone rocks showed with blinding +clearness, the atmosphere quivered as if heated over a flame; each +minute the shadows grew shorter and their outlines sharper. + +All the beasts which we saw peopling the Necropolis in the evening had +now withdrawn into their lurking places; only man defied the heat of the +summer day. Undisturbed he accomplished his daily work, and only laid +his tools aside for a moment, with a sigh, when a cooling breath blew +across the overflowing stream and fanned his brow. + +The harbor or clock where those landed who crossed from eastern Thebes +was crowded with barks and boats waiting to return. + +The crews of rowers and steersmen who were attached to priestly +brotherhoods or noble houses, were enjoying a rest till the parties they +had brought across the Nile drew towards them again in long processions. + +Under a wide-spreading sycamore a vendor of eatables, spirituous drinks, +and acids for cooling the water, had set up his stall, and close to him, +a crowd of boatmen, and drivers shouted and disputed as they passed the +time in eager games at morra. + + [In Latin “micare digitis.” A game still constantly played in the + south of Europe, and frequently represented by the Egyptians. The + games depicted in the monuments are collected by Minutoli, in the + Leipziger Illustrirte Zeitung, 1852.] + +Many sailors lay on the decks of the vessels, others on the shore; here +in the thin shade of a palm tree, there in the full blaze of the sun, +from those burning rays they protected themselves by spreading the +cotton cloths, which served them for cloaks, over their faces. + +Between the sleepers passed bondmen and slaves, brown and black, in long +files one behind the other, bending under the weight of heavy burdens, +which had to be conveyed to their destination at the temples for +sacrifice, or to the dealers in various wares. Builders dragged blocks +of stone, which had come from the quarries of Chennu and Suan, + + [The Syene of the Greeks, non, called Assouan at the first + cataract.] + +on sledges to the site of a new temple; laborers poured water under the +runners, that the heavily loaded and dried wood should not take fire. + +All these working men were driven with sticks by their overseers, and +sang at their labor; but the voices of the leaders sounded muffled and +hoarse, though, when after their frugal meal they enjoyed an hour of +repose, they might be heard loud enough. Their parched throats refused +to sing in the noontide of their labor. + +Thick clouds of gnats followed these tormented gangs, who with dull and +spirit-broken endurance suffered alike the stings of the insects and the +blows of their driver. The gnats pursued them to the very heart of the +City of the dead, where they joined themselves to the flies and wasps, +which swarmed in countless crowds around the slaughter houses, cooks’ +shops, stalls of fried fish, and booths of meat, vegetable, honey, cakes +and drinks, which were doing a brisk business in spite of the noontide +heat and the oppressive atmosphere heated and filled with a mixture of +odors. + +The nearer one got to the Libyan frontier, the quieter it became, and +the silence of death reigned in the broad north-west valley, where in +the southern slope the father of the reigning king had caused his tomb +to be hewn, and where the stone-mason of the Pharaoh had prepared a rock +tomb for him. + +A newly made road led into this rocky gorge, whose steep yellow and +brown walls seemed scorched by the sun in many blackened spots, and +looked like a ghostly array of shades that had risen from the tombs in +the night and remained there. + +At the entrance of this valley some blocks of stone formed a sort of +doorway, and through this, indifferent to the heat of day, a small but +brilliant troop of the men was passing. + +Four slender youths as staff bearers led the procession, each clothed +only with an apron and a flowing head-cloth of gold brocade; the mid-day +sun played on their smooth, moist, red-brown skins, and their supple +naked feet hardly stirred the stones on the road. + +Behind them followed an elegant, two-wheeled chariot, with two prancing +brown horses bearing tufts of red and blue feathers on their noble +heads, and seeming by the bearing of their arched necks and flowing +tails to express their pride in the gorgeous housings, richly +embroidered in silver, purple, and blue and golden ornaments, which they +wore--and even more in their beautiful, royal charioteer, Bent-Anat, the +daughter of Rameses, at whose lightest word they pricked their ears, and +whose little hand guided them with a scarcely perceptible touch. + +Two young men dressed like the other runners followed the chariot, and +kept the rays of the sun off the face of their mistress with large fans +of snow-white ostrich feathers fastened to long wands. + +By the side of Bent-Anat, so long as the road was wide enough to allow +of it, was carried Nefert, the wife of Mena, in her gilt litter, borne +by eight tawny bearers, who, running with a swift and equally measured +step, did not remain far behind the trotting horses of the princess and +her fan-bearers. + +Both the women, whom we now see for the first time in daylight, were of +remarkable but altogether different beauty. + +The wife of Mena had preserved the appearance of a maiden; her large +almond-shaped eyes had a dreamy surprised look out from under her long +eyelashes, and her figure of hardly the middle-height had acquired a +little stoutness without losing its youthful grace. No drop of foreign +blood flowed in her veins, as could be seen in the color of her skin, +which was of that fresh and equal line which holds a medium between +golden yellow and bronze brown--and which to this day is so charming in +the maidens of Abyssinia--in her straight nose, her well-formed brow, +in her smooth but thick black hair, and in the fineness of her hands and +feet, which were ornamented with circles of gold. + +The maiden princess next to her had hardly reached her nineteenth year, +and yet something of a womanly self-consciousness betrayed itself in +her demeanor. Her stature was by almost a head taller than that of +her friend, her skin was fairer, her blue eyes kind and frank, without +tricks of glance, but clear and honest, her profile was noble but +sharply cut, and resembled that of her father, as a landscape in the +mild and softening light of the moon resembles the same landscape in the +broad clear light of day. The scarcely perceptible aquiline of her nose, +she inherited from her Semitic ancestors, + + [Many portraits have come down to us of Rameses: the finest is the + noble statue preserved at Turin. A likeness has been detected + between its profile, with its slightly aquiline nose, and that of + Napoleon I.] + +as well as the slightly waving abundance of her brown hair, over which +she wore a blue and white striped silk kerchief; its carefully-pleated +folds were held in place by a gold ring, from which in front a horned +urarus + + [A venomous Egyptian serpent which was adopted as the symbol of + sovereign power, in consequence of its swift effects for life or + death. It is never wanting to the diadem of the Pharaohs.] + +raised its head crowned with a disk of rubies. From her left temple a +large tress, plaited with gold thread, hung down to her waist, the sign +of her royal birth. She wore a purple dress of fine, almost transparent +stuff, that was confined with a gold belt and straps. Round her throat +was fastened a necklace like a collar, made of pearls and costly stones, +and hanging low down on her well-formed bosom. + +Behind the princess stood her charioteer, an old officer of noble birth. + +Three litters followed the chariot of the princess, and in each sat +two officers of the court; then came a dozen of slaves ready for any +service, and lastly a crowd of wand-bearers to drive off the idle +populace, and of lightly-armed soldiers, who--dressed only in the apron +and head-cloth--each bore a dagger-shaped sword in his girdle, an axe +in his right hand, and in his left; in token of his peaceful service, a +palm-branch. + +Like dolphins round a ship, little girls in long shirt-shaped garments +swarmed round the whole length of the advancing procession, bearing +water-jars on their steady heads, and at a sign from any one who was +thirsty were ready to give him a drink. With steps as light as the +gazelle they often outran the horses, and nothing could be more graceful +than the action with which the taller ones bent over with the water-jars +held in both arms to the drinker. + +The courtiers, cooled and shaded by waving fans, and hardly perceiving +the noontide heat, conversed at their ease about indifferent matters, +and the princess pitied the poor horses, who were tormented as they ran, +by annoying gadflies; while the runners and soldiers, the litter-bearers +and fan-bearers, the girls with their jars and the panting slaves, were +compelled to exert themselves under the rays of the mid-day sun in the +service of their masters, till their sinews threatened to crack and +their lungs to burst their bodies. + +At a spot where the road widened, and where, to the right, lay the steep +cross-valley where the last kings of the dethroned race were interred, +the procession stopped at a sign from Paaker, who preceded the princess, +and who drove his fiery black Syrian horses with so heavy a hand that +the bloody foam fell from their bits. + +When the Mohar had given the reins into the hand of a servant, he sprang +from his chariot, and after the usual form of obeisance said to the +princess: + +“In this valley lies the loathsome den of the people, to whom thou, O +princess, dost deign to do such high honor. Permit me to go forward as +guide to thy party.” + +“We will go on foot,” said the princess, “and leave our followers behind +here.” + +Paaker bowed, Bent-Anat threw the reins to her charioteer and sprang to +the ground, the wife of Mena and the courtiers left their litters, and +the fan-bearers and chamberlains were about to accompany their mistress +on foot into the little valley, when she turned round and ordered, +“Remain behind, all of you. Only Paaker and Nefert need go with me.” + +The princess hastened forward into the gorge, which was oppressive with +the noon-tide heat; but she moderated her steps as soon as she observed +that the frailer Nefert found it difficult to follow her. + +At a bend in the road Paaker stood still, and with him Bent-Anat and +Nefert. Neither of them had spoken a word during their walk. The valley +was perfectly still and deserted; on the highest pinnacles of the cliff, +which rose perpendicularly to the right, sat a long row of vultures, as +motionless as if the mid-day heat had taken all strength out of their +wings. + +Paaker bowed before them as being the sacred animals of the Great +Goddess of Thebes, + + [She formed a triad with Anion and Chunsu under the name of Muth. + The great “Sanctuary of the kingdom”--the temple of Karnak--was + dedicated to them.] + +and the two women silently followed his example. + +“There,” said the Mohar, pointing to two huts close to the left cliff of +the valley, built of bricks made of dried Nile-mud, “there, the neatest, +next the cave in the rock.” + +Bent-Anat went towards the solitary hovel with a beating heart; Paaker +let the ladies go first. A few steps brought them to an ill-constructed +fence of canestalks, palm-branches, briars and straw, roughly thrown +together. A heart-rending cry of pain from within the hut trembled in +the air and arrested the steps of the two women. Nefert staggered and +clung to her stronger companion, whose beating heart she seemed to hear. +Both stood a few minutes as if spellbound, then the princess called +Paaker, and said: + +“You go first into the house.” + +Paaker bowed to the ground. + +“I will call the man out,” he said, “but how dare we step over his +threshold. Thou knowest such a proceeding will defile us.” + +Nefert looked pleadingly at Bent-Anat, but the princess repeated her +command. + +“Go before me; I have no fear of defilement.” The Mohar still hesitated. + +“Wilt thou provoke the Gods?--and defile thyself?” But the princess let +him say no more; she signed to Nefert, who raised her hands in horror +and aversion; so, with a shrug of her shoulders, she left her companion +behind with the Mohar, and stepped through an opening in the hedge into +a little court, where lay two brown goats; a donkey with his forelegs +tied together stood by, and a few hens were scattering the dust about in +a vain search for food. + +Soon she stood, alone, before the door of the paraschites’ hovel. No one +perceived her, but she could not take her eyes-accustomed only to scenes +of order and splendor--from the gloomy but wonderfully strange picture, +which riveted her attention and her sympathy. At last she went up to +the doorway, which was too low for her tall figure. Her heart shrunk +painfully within her, and she would have wished to grow smaller, and, +instead of shining in splendor, to have found herself wrapped in a +beggar’s robe. + +Could she step into this hovel decked with gold and jewels as if in +mockery?--like a tyrant who should feast at a groaning table and compel +the starving to look on at the banquet. Her delicate perception made +her feel what trenchant discord her appearance offered to all that +surrounded her, and the discord pained her; for she could not conceal +from herself that misery and external meanness were here entitled to +give the key-note and that her magnificence derived no especial grandeur +from contrast with all these modest accessories, amid dust, gloom, and +suffering, but rather became disproportionate and hideous, like a giant +among pigmies. + +She had already gone too far to turn back, or she would willingly have +done so. The longer she gazed into the but, the more deeply she felt the +impotence of her princely power, the nothingness of the splendid gifts +with which she approached it, and that she might not tread the dusty +floor of this wretched hovel but in all humility, and to crave a pardon. + +The room into which she looked was low but not very small, and obtained +from two cross lights a strange and unequal illumination; on one side +the light came through the door, and on the other through an opening in +the time-worn ceiling of the room, which had never before harbored so +many and such different guests. + +All attention was concentrated on a group, which was clearly lighted up +from the doorway. + +On the dusty floor of the room cowered an old woman, with dark +weather-beaten features and tangled hair that had long been grey. Her +black-blue cotton shirt was open over her withered bosom, and showed a +blue star tattooed upon it. + +In her lap she supported with her hands the head of a girl, whose +slender body lay motionless on a narrow, ragged mat. The little white +feet of the sick girl almost touched the threshold. Near to them +squatted a benevolent-looking old man, who wore only a coarse apron, and +sitting all in a heap, bent forward now and then, rubbing the child’s +feet with his lean hands and muttering a few words to himself. + +The sufferer wore nothing but a short petticoat of coarse light-blue +stuff. Her face, half resting on the lap of the old woman, was graceful +and regular in form, her eyes were half shut-like those of a child, +whose soul is wrapped in some sweet dream-but from her finely chiselled +lips there escaped from time to time a painful, almost convulsive sob. + +An abundance of soft, but disordered reddish fair hair, in which clung +a few withered flowers, fell over the lap of the old woman and on to +the mat where she lay. Her cheeks were white and rosy-red, and when +the young surgeon Nebsecht--who sat by her side, near his blind, stupid +companion, the litany-singer--lifted the ragged cloth that had been +thrown over her bosom, which had been crushed by the chariot wheel, or +when she lifted her slender arm, it was seen that she had the shining +fairness of those daughters of the north who not unfrequently came to +Thebes among the king’s prisoners of war. + +The two physicians sent hither from the House of Seti sat on the left +side of the maiden on a little carpet. From time to time one or the +other laid his hand over the heart of the sufferer, or listened to her +breathing, or opened his case of medicaments, and moistened the compress +on her wounded breast with a white ointment. + +In a wide circle close to the wall of the room crouched several women, +young and old, friends of the paraschites, who from time to time gave +expression to their deep sympathy by a piercing cry of lamentation. One +of them rose at regular intervals to fill the earthen bowl by the side +of the physician with fresh water. As often as the sudden coolness of a +fresh compress on her hot bosom startled the sick girl, she opened +her eyes, but always soon to close them again for longer interval, +and turned them at first in surprise, and then with gentle reverence, +towards a particular spot. + +These glances had hitherto been unobserved by him to whom they were +directed. + +Leaning against the wall on the right hand side of the room, dressed in +his long, snow-white priest’s robe, Pentaur stood awaiting the princess. +His head-dress touched the ceiling, and the narrow streak of light, +which fell through the opening in the roof, streamed on his handsome +head and his breast, while all around him was veiled in twilight gloom. + +Once more the suffering girl looked up, and her glance this time met +the eye of the young priest, who immediately raised his hand, and +half-mechanically, in a low voice, uttered the words of blessing; and +then once more fixed his gaze on the dingy floor, and pursued his own +reflections. + +Some hours since he had come hither, obedient to the orders of Ameni, +to impress on the princess that she had defiled herself by touching +a paraschites, and could only be cleansed again by the hand of the +priests. + +He had crossed the threshold of the paraschites most reluctantly, and +the thought that he, of all men, had been selected to censure a deed +of the noblest humanity, and to bring her who had done it to judgment, +weighed upon him as a calamity. + +In his intercourse with his friend Nebsecht, Pentaur had thrown off many +fetters, and given place to many thoughts that his master would have +held sinful and presumptuous; but at the same time he acknowledged the +sanctity of the old institutions, which were upheld by those whom he had +learned to regard as the divinely-appointed guardians of the spiritual +possessions of God’s people; nor was he wholly free from the pride of +caste and the haughtiness which, with prudent intent, were inculcated in +the priests. He held the common man, who put forth his strength to win a +maintenance for his belongings by honest bodily labor--the merchant--the +artizan--the peasant, nay even the warrior, as far beneath the godly +brotherhood who strove for only spiritual ends; and most of all he +scorned the idler, given up to sensual enjoyments. + +He held him unclean who had been branded by the law; and how should +it have been otherwise? These people, who at the embalming of the dead +opened the body of the deceased, had become despised for their office of +mutilating the sacred temple of the soul; but no paraschites chose his +calling of his own free will.--[Diodorus I, 91]--It was handed down from +father to son, and he who was born a paraschites--so he was taught--had +to expiate an old guilt with which his soul had long ago burdened itself +in a former existence, within another body, and which had deprived it +of absolution in the nether world. It had passed through various animal +forms, and now began a new human course in the body of a paraschites, +once more to stand after death in the presence of the judges of the +under-world. + +Pentaur had crossed the threshold of the man he despised with aversion; +the man himself, sitting at the feet of the suffering girl, had +exclaimed as he saw the priest approaching the hovel: + +“Yet another white robe! Does misfortune cleanse the unclean?” + +Pentaur had not answered the old man, who on his part took no further +notice of him, while he rubbed the girl’s feet by order of the leech; +and his hands impelled by tender anxiety untiringly continued the same +movement, as the water-wheel in the Nile keeps up without intermission +its steady motion in the stream. + +“Does misfortune cleanse the unclean?” Pentaur asked himself. “Does it +indeed possess a purifying efficacy, and is it possible that the Gods, +who gave to fire the power of refining metals and to the winds power to +sweep the clouds from the sky, should desire that a man--made in their +own image--that a man should be tainted from his birth to his death with +an indelible stain?” + +He looked at the face of the paraschites, and it seemed to him to +resemble that of his father. + +This startled him! + +And when he noticed how the woman, in whose lap the girl’s head +was resting, bent over the injured bosom of the child to catch her +breathing, which she feared had come to a stand-still--with the anguish +of a dove that is struck down by a hawk--he remembered a moment in his +own childhood, when he had lain trembling with fever on his little bed. +What then had happened to him, or had gone on around him, he had long +forgotten, but one image was deeply imprinted on his soul, that of the +face of his mother bending over him in deadly anguish, but who had gazed +on her sick boy not more tenderly, or more anxiously, than this despised +woman on her suffering child. + +“There is only one utterly unselfish, utterly pure and utterly divine +love,” said he to himself, “and that is the love of Isis for Horus--the +love of a mother for her child. If these people were indeed so foul as +to defile every thing they touch, how would this pure, this tender, holy +impulse show itself even in them in all its beauty and perfection?” + +“Still,” he continued, “the Celestials have implanted maternal love in +the breast of the lioness, of the typhonic river-horse of the Nile.” + +He looked compassionately at the wife of the paraschites. + +He saw her dark face as she turned it away from the sick girl. She had +felt her breathe, and a smile of happiness lighted up her old features; +she nodded first to the surgeon, and then with a deep sigh of relief to +her husband, who, while he did not cease the movement of his left hand, +held up his right hand in prayer to heaven, and his wife did the same. + +It seemed to Pentaur that he could see the souls of these two, floating +above the youthful creature in holy union as they joined their hands; +and again he thought of his parents’ house, of the hour when his sweet, +only sister died. His mother had thrown herself weeping on the pale +form, but his father had stamped his foot and had thrown back his head, +sobbing and striking his forehead with his fist. + +“How piously submissive and thankful are these unclean ones!” thought +Pentaur; and repugnance for the old laws began to take root in his +heart. “Maternal love may exist in the hyaena, but to seek and find +God pertains only to man, who has a noble aim. Up to the limits of +eternity--and God is eternal!--thought is denied to animals; they cannot +even smile. Even men cannot smile at first, for only physical +life--an animal soul--dwells in them; but soon a share of the world’s +soul--beaming intelligence--works within them, and first shows itself in +the smile of a child, which is as pure as the light and the truth from +which it comes. The child of the paraschites smiles like any other +creature born of woman, but how few aged men there are, even among the +initiated, who can smile as innocently and brightly as this woman who +has grown grey under open ill-treatment.” + +Deep sympathy began to fill his heart, and he knelt down by the side of +the poor child, raised her arm, and prayed fervently to that One who +had created the heavens and who rules the world--to that One, whom the +mysteries of faith forbade him to name; and not to the innumerable gods, +whom the people worshipped, and who to him were nothing but incarnations +of the attributes of the One and only God of the initiated--of whom he +was one--who was thus brought down to the comprehension of the laity. + +He raised his soul to God in passionate emotion; but he prayed, not +for the child before him and for her recovery, but rather for the +whole despised race, and for its release from the old ban, for the +enlightenment of his own soul, imprisoned in doubts, and for strength to +fulfil his hard task with discretion. + +The gaze of the sufferer followed him as he took up his former position. + +The prayer had refreshed his soul and restored him to cheerfulness of +spirit. He began to reflect what conduct he must observe towards the +princess. + +He had not met Bent-Anat for the first time yesterday; on the contrary, +he had frequently seen her in holiday processions, and at the high +festivals in the Necropolis, and like all his young companions had +admired her proud beauty--admired it as the distant light of the stars, +or the evening-glow on the horizon. + +Now he must approach this lady with words of reproof. + +He pictured to himself the moment when he must advance to meet her, and +could not help thinking of his little tutor Chufu, above whom he towered +by two heads while he was still a boy, and who used to call up his +admonitions to him from below. It was true, he himself was tall +and slim, but he felt as if to-day he were to play the part towards +Bent-Anat of the much-laughed-at little tutor. + +His sense of the comic was touched, and asserted itself at this +serious moment, and with such melancholy surroundings. Life is rich in +contrasts, and a susceptible and highly-strung human soul would break +down like a bridge under the measured tread of soldiers, if it were +allowed to let the burden of the heaviest thoughts and strongest +feelings work upon it in undisturbed monotony; but just as in music +every key-note has its harmonies, so when we cause one chord of our +heart to vibrate for long, all sorts of strange notes respond and clang, +often those which we least expect. + +Pentaur’s glance flew round the one low, over-filled room of the +paraschites’ hut, and like a lightning flash the thought, “How will the +princess and her train find room here?” flew through his mind. + +His fancy was lively, and vividly brought before him how the daughter of +the Pharaoh with a crown on her proud head would bustle into the silent +chamber, how the chattering courtiers would follow her, and how the +women by the walls, the physicians by the side of the sick girl, the +sleek white cat from the chest where she sat, would rise and throng +round her. There must be frightful confusion. Then he imagined how the +smart lords and ladies would keep themselves far from the unclean, hold +their slender hands over their mouths and noses, and suggest to the old +folks how they ought to behave to the princess who condescended to bless +them with her presence. The old woman must lay down the head that rested +in her bosom, the paraschites must drop the feet he so anxiously rubbed, +on the floor, to rise and kiss the dust before Bent-Anat. Whereupon--the +“mind’s eye” of the young priest seemed to see it all--the courtiers +fled before him, pushing each other, and all crowded together into a +corner, and at last the princess threw a few silver or gold rings into +the laps of the father and mother, and perhaps to the girl too, and he +seemed to hear the courtiers all cry out: “Hail to the gracious daughter +of the Sun!”--to hear the joyful exclamations of the crowd of women--to +see the gorgeous apparition leave the hut of the despised people, +and then to see, instead of the lovely sick child who still breathed +audibly, a silent corpse on the crumpled mat, and in the place of the +two tender nurses at her head and feet, two heart-broken, loud-lamenting +wretches. + +Pentaur’s hot spirit was full of wrath. As soon as the noisy cortege +appeared actually in sight he would place himself in the doorway, forbid +the princess to enter, and receive her with strong words. + +She could hardly come hither out of human kindness. + +“She wants variety,” said he to himself, “something new at Court; for +there is little going on there now the king tarries with the troops in +a distant country; it tickles the vanity of the great to find themselves +once in a while in contact with the small, and it is well to have +your goodness of heart spoken of by the people. If a little misfortune +opportunely happens, it is not worth the trouble to inquire whether +the form of our benevolence does more good or mischief to such wretched +people.” + +He ground his teeth angrily, and thought no more of the defilement which +might threaten Bent-Anat from the paraschites, but exclusively, on +the contrary, of the impending desecration by the princess of the holy +feelings astir in this silent room. + +Excited as he was to fanaticism, his condemning lips could not fail to +find vigorous and impressive words. + +He stood drawn to his full height and drawing his breath deeply, like +a spirit of light who holds his weapon raised to annihilate a demon of +darkness, and he looked out into the valley to perceive from afar the +cry of the runners and the rattle of the wheels of the gay train he +expected. + +And he saw the doorway darkened by a lowly, bending figure, who, with +folded arms, glided into the room and sank down silently by the side of +the sick girl. The physicians and the old people moved as if to rise; +but she signed to them without opening her lips, and with moist, +expressive eyes, to keep their places; she looked long and lovingly in +the face of the wounded girl, stroked her white arm, and turning to the +old woman softly whispered to her + +“How pretty she is!” + +The paraschites’ wife nodded assent, and the girl smiled and moved her +lips as though she had caught the words and wished to speak. + +Bent-Anat took a rose from her hair and laid it on her bosom. + +The paraschites, who had not taken his hands from the feet of the +sick child, but who had followed every movement of the princess, now +whispered, “May Hathor requite thee, who gave thee thy beauty.” + +The princess turned to him and said, “Forgive the sorrow, I have caused +you.” + +The old man stood up, letting the feet of the sick girl fall, and asked +in a clear loud voice: + +“Art thou Bent-Anat?” + +“Yes, I am,” replied the princess, bowing her head low, and in so gentle +a voice, that it seemed as though she were ashamed of her proud name. + +The eyes of the old man flashed. Then he said softly but decisively: + +“Leave my hut then, it will defile thee.” + +“Not till you have forgiven me for that which I did unintentionally.” + +“Unintentionally! I believe thee,” replied the paraschites. “The hoofs +of thy horse became unclean when they trod on this white breast. Look +here--” and he lifted the cloth from the girl’s bosom, and showed her +the deep red wound, “Look here--here is the first rose you laid on my +grandchild’s bosom, and the second--there it goes.” + +The paraschites raised his arm to fling the flower through the door of +his hut. But Pentaur had approached him, and with a grasp of iron held +the old man’s hand. + +“Stay,” he cried in an eager tone, moderated however for the sake of the +sick girl. “The third rose, which this noble hand has offered you, your +sick heart and silly head have not even perceived. And yet you must know +it if only from your need, your longing for it. The fair blossom of pure +benevolence is laid on your child’s heart, and at your very feet, by +this proud princess. Not with gold, but with humility. And whoever the +daughter of Rameses approaches as her equal, bows before her, even if he +were the first prince in the Land of Egypt. Indeed, the Gods shall not +forget this deed of Bent-Anat. And you--forgive, if you desire to be +forgiven that guilt, which you bear as an inheritance from your fathers, +and for your own sins.” + +The paraschites bowed his head at these words, and when he raised it +the anger had vanished from his well-cut features. He rubbed his wrist, +which had been squeezed by Pentaur’s iron fingers, and said in a tone +which betrayed all the bitterness of his feelings: + +“Thy hand is hard, Priest, and thy words hit like the strokes of a +hammer. This fair lady is good and loving, and I know; that she did not +drive her horse intentionally over this poor girl, who is my grandchild +and not my daughter. If she were thy wife or the wife of the leech +there, or the child of the poor woman yonder, who supports life by +collecting the feet and feathers of the fowls that are slaughtered for +sacrifice, I would not only forgive her, but console her for having made +herself like to me; fate would have made her a murderess without any +fault of her own, just as it stamped me as unclean while I was still +at my mother’s breast. Aye--I would comfort her; and yet I am not very +sensitive. Ye holy three of Thebes!--[The triad of Thebes: Anion, Muth +and Chunsu.]--how should I be? Great and small get out of my way that +I may not touch them, and every day when I have done what it is my +business to do they throw stones at me. + + [The paraschites, with an Ethiopian knife, cuts the flesh of the + corpse as deeply as the law requires: but instantly takes to flight, + while the relatives of the deceased pursue him with stones, and + curses, as if they wished to throw the blame on him.] + +“The fulfilment of duty--which brings a living to other men, which makes +their happiness, and at the same time earns them honor, brings me every +day fresh disgrace and painful sores. But I complain to no man, and +must forgive--forgive--forgive, till at last all that men do to me seems +quite natural and unavoidable, and I take it all like the scorching of +the sun in summer, and the dust that the west wind blows into my face. +It does not make me happy, but what can I do? I forgive all--” + +The voice of the paraschites had softened, and Bent-Anat, who looked +down on him with emotion, interrupted him, exclaiming with deep feeling: + +“And so you will forgive me?--poor man!” + +The old man looked steadily, not at her, but at Pentaur, while he +replied: “Poor man! aye, truly, poor man. You have driven me out of the +world in which you live, and so I made a world for myself in this hut. +I do not belong to you, and if I forget it, you drive me out as an +intruder--nay as a wolf, who breaks into your fold; but you belong just +as little to me, only when you play the wolf and fall upon me, I must +bear it!” + +“The princess came to your hut as a suppliant, and with the wish of +doing you some good,” said Pentaur. + +“May the avenging Gods reckon it to her, when they visit on her the +crimes of her father against me! Perhaps it may bring me to prison, but +it must come out. Seven sons were mine, and Rameses took them all from +me and sent them to death; the child of the youngest, this girl, the +light of my eyes, his daughter has brought to her death. Three of my +boys the king left to die of thirst by the Tenat, + + [Literally the “cutting” which, under Seti I., the father of + Rameses, was the first Suez Canal; a representation of it is found + on the northern outer wall of the temple of Karnak. It followed + nearly the same direction as the Fresh-water canal of Lesseps, and + fertilized the land of Goshen.] + +which is to join the Nile to the Red Sea, three were killed by the +Ethiopians, and the last, the star of my hopes, by this time is eaten by +the hyaenas of the north.” + +At these words the old woman, in whose lap the head of the girl rested, +broke out into a loud cry, in which she was joined by all the other +women. + +The sufferer started up frightened, and opened her eyes. + +“For whom are you wailing?” she asked feebly. “For your poor father,” + said the old woman. + +The girl smiled like a child who detects some well-meant deceit, and +said: + +“Was not my father here, with you? He is here, in Thebes, and looked at +me, and kissed me, and said that he is bringing home plunder, and that +a good time is coming for you. The gold ring that he gave me I was +fastening into my dress, when the chariot passed over me. I was just +pulling the knots, when all grew black before my eyes, and I saw and +heard nothing more. Undo it, grandmother, the ring is for you; I meant +to bring it to you. You must buy a beast for sacrifice with it, and wine +for grandfather, and eye salve + + [The Egyptian mestem, that is stibium or antimony, which was + introduced into Egypt by the Asiatics at a very early period and + universally used.] + +for yourself, and sticks of mastic, + + [At the present day the Egyptian women are fond of chewing them, on + account of their pleasant taste. The ancient Egyptians used various + pills. Receipts for such things are found in the Ebers Papyrus.] + +which you have so long lead to do without.” + +The paraschites seemed to drink these words from the mouth of his +grandchild. Again he lifted his hand in prayer, again Pentaur observed +that his glance met that of his wife, and a large, warm tear fell from +his old eyes on to his callous hand. Then he sank down, for he thought +the sick child was deluded by a dream. But there were the knots in her +dress. + +With a trembling hand he untied them, and a gold ring rolled out on the +floor. + +Bent-Anat picked it up, and gave it to the paraschites. “I came here in +a lucky hour,” she said, “for you have recovered your son and your child +will live.” + +“She will live,” repeated the surgeon, who had remained a silent witness +of all that had occurred. + +“She will stay with us,” murmured the old man, and then said, as he +approached the princess on his knees, and looked up at her beseechingly +with tearful eyes: + +“Pardon me as I pardon thee; and if a pious wish may not turn to a curse +from the lips of the unclean, let me bless thee.” + +“I thank you,” said Bent-Anat, towards whom the old man raised his hand +in blessing. + +Then she turned to Nebsecht, and ordered him to take anxious care of +the sick girl; she bent over her, kissed her forehead, laid her gold +bracelet by her side, and signing to Pentaur left the hut with him. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +During the occurrence we have described, the king’s pioneer and the +young wife of Mena were obliged to wait for the princess. + +The sun stood in the meridian, when Bent-Anat had gone into the hovel of +the paraschites. + +The bare limestone rocks on each side of the valley and the sandy soil +between, shone with a vivid whiteness that hurt the eyes; not a hand’s +breadth of shade was anywhere to be seen, and the fan-beaters of the +two, who were waiting there, had, by command of the princess, staid +behind with the chariot and litters. + +For a time they stood silently near each other, then the fair Nefert +said, wearily closing her almond-shaped eyes: + +“How long Bent-Anat stays in the but of the unclean! I am perishing +here. What shall we do?” + +“Stay!” said Paaker, turning his back on the lady; and mounting a block +of stone by the side of the gorge, he cast a practised glance all round, +and returned to Nefert: “I have found a shady spot,” he said, “out +there.” + +Mena’s wife followed with her eyes the indication of his hand, and shook +her head. The gold ornaments on her head-dress rattled gently as she did +so, and a cold shiver passed over her slim body in spite of the midday +heat. + +“Sechet is raging in the sky,” said Paaker. + + [A goddess with the head of a lioness or a cat, over which the Sun- + disk is usually found. She was the daughter of Ra, and in the form + of the Uraeus on her father’s crown personified the murderous heat + of the star of day. She incites man to the hot and wild passion of + love, and as a cat or lioness tears burning wounds in the limbs of + the guilty in the nether world; drunkenness and pleasure are her + gifts She was also named Bast and Astarte after her sister-divinity + among the Phoenicians.] + +“Let us avail ourselves of the shady spot, small though it be. At this +hour of the day many are struck with sickness.” + +“I know it,” said Nefert, covering her neck with her hand. Then she went +towards two blocks of stone which leaned against each other, and between +them afforded the spot of shade, not many feet wide, which Paaker had +pointed out as a shelter from the sun. Paaker preceded her, and rolled +a flat piece of limestone, inlaid by nature with nodules of flint, +under the stone pavilion, crushed a few scorpions which had taken refuge +there, spread his head-cloth over the hard seat, and said, “Here you are +sheltered.” + +Nefert sank down on the stone and watched the Mohar, who slowly and +silently paced backwards and forward in front of her. This incessant to +and fro of her companion at last became unendurable to her sensitive and +irritated nerves, and suddenly raising her head from her hand, on which +she had rested it, she exclaimed + +“Pray stand still.” + +The pioneer obeyed instantly, and looked, as he stood with his back to +her, towards the hovel of the paraschites. + +After a short time Nefert said, “Say something to me!” + +The Mohar turned his full face towards her, and she was frightened at +the wild fire that glowed in the glance with which he gazed at her. + +Nefert’s eyes fell, and Paaker, saying: + +“I would rather remain silent,” recommenced his walk, till Nefert called +to him again and said, + +“I know you are angry with me; but I was but a child when I was +betrothed to you. I liked you too, and when in our games your mother +called me your little wife, I was really glad, and used to think how +fine it would be when I might call all your possessions mine, the house +you would have so splendidly restored for me after your father’s death, +the noble gardens, the fine horses in their stables, and all the male +and female slaves!” + +Paaker laughed, but the laugh sounded so forced and scornful that it cut +Nefert to the heart, and she went on, as if begging for indulgence: + +“It was said that you were angry with us; and now you will take my words +as if I had cared only for your wealth; but I said, I liked you. Do you +no longer remember how I cried with you over your tales of the bad +boys in the school; and over your father’s severity? Then my uncle +died;--then you went to Asia.” + +“And you,” interrupted Paaker, hardly and drily, “you broke your +bethrothal vows, and became the wife of the charioteer Mena. I know it +all; of what use is talking?” + +“Because it grieves me that you should be angry, and your good mother +avoid our house. If only you could know what it is when love seizes one, +and one can no longer even think alone, but only near, and with, and in +the very arms of another; when one’s beating heart throbs in one’s very +temples, and even in one’s dreams one sees nothing--but one only.” + +“And do I not know it?” cried Paaker, placing himself close before her +with his arms crossed. “Do I not know it? and you it was who taught me +to know it. When I thought of you, not blood, but burning fire, coursed +in my veins, and now you have filled them with poison; and here in this +breast, in which your image dwelt, as lovely as that of Hathor in her +holy of holies, all is like that sea in Syria which is called the +Dead Sea, in which every thing that tries to live presently dies and +perishes.” + +Paaker’s eyes rolled as he spoke, and his voice sounded hoarsely as he +went on. + +“But Mena was near to the king--nearer than I, and your mother--” + +“My mother!”--Nefert interrupted the angry Mohar. “My mother did not +choose my husband. I saw him driving the chariot, and to me he resembled +the Sun God, and he observed me, and looked at me, and his glance +pierced deep into my heart like a spear; and when, at the festival of +the king’s birthday, he spoke to me, it was just as if Hathor had thrown +round me a web of sweet, sounding sunbeams. And it was the same with +Mena; he himself has told me so since I have been his wife. For your +sake my mother rejected his suit, but I grew pale and dull with longing +for him, and he lost his bright spirit, and was so melancholy that the +king remarked it, and asked what weighed on his heart--for Rameses loves +him as his own son. Then Mena confessed to the Pharaoh that it was love +that dimmed his eye and weakened his strong hand; and then the king +himself courted me for his faithful servant, and my mother gave way, +and we were made man and wife, and all the joys of the justified in the +fields of Aalu + + [The fields of the blest, which were opened to glorified souls. In + the Book of the Dead it is shown that in them men linger, and sow + and reap by cool waters.] + +are shallow and feeble by the side of the bliss which we two have +known--not like mortal men, but like the celestial gods.” + +Up to this point Nefert had fixed her large eyes on the sky, like a +glorified soul; but now her gaze fell, and she said softly-- + +“But the Cheta + + [An Aramaean race, according to Schrader’s excellent judgment. At + the time of our story the peoples of western Asia had allied + themselves to them.] + +disturbed our happiness, for the king took Mena with him to the war. +Fifteen times did the moon, rise upon our happiness, and then--” + +“And then the Gods heard my prayer, and accepted my offerings,” said +Paaker, with a trembling voice, “and tore the robber of my joys from +you, and scorched your heart and his with desire. Do you think you can +tell me anything I do not know? Once again for fifteen days was Mena +yours, and now he has not returned again from the war which is raging +hotly in Asia.” + +“But he will return,” cried the young wife. + +“Or possibly not,” laughed Paaker. “The Cheta, carry sharp weapons, and +there are many vultures in Lebanon, who perhaps at this hour are tearing +his flesh as he tore my heart.” + +Nefert rose at these words, her sensitive spirit bruised as with stones +thrown by a brutal hand, and attempted to leave her shady refuge to +follow the princess into the house of the parascllites; but her feet +refused to bear her, and she sank back trembling on her stone seat. +She tried to find words, but her tongue was powerless. Her powers +of resistance forsook her in her unutterable and soul-felt +distress--heart-wrung, forsaken and provoked. + +A variety of painful sensations raised a hot vehement storm in +her bosom, which checked her breath, and at last found relief in a +passionate and convulsive weeping that shook her whole body. She saw +nothing more, she heard nothing more, she only shed tears and felt +herself miserable. + +Paaker stood over her in silence. + +There are trees in the tropics, on which white blossoms hang close by +the withered fruit, there are days when the pale moon shows itself near +the clear bright sun;--and it is given to the soul of man to feel love +and hatred, both at the same time, and to direct both to the same end. + +Nefert’s tears fell as dew, her sobs as manna on the soul of Paaker, +which hungered and thirsted for revenge. Her pain was joy to him, and +yet the sight of her beauty filled him with passion, his gaze lingered +spell-bound on her graceful form; he would have given all the bliss of +heaven once, only once, to hold her in his arms--once, only once, to +hear a word of love from her lips. + +After some minutes Nefert’s tears grew less violent. With a weary, +almost indifferent gaze she looked at the Mohar, still standing before +her, and said in a soft tone of entreaty: + +‘My tongue is parched, fetch me a little water.” + +“The princess may come out at any moment,” replied Paaker. + +“But I am fainting,” said Nefert, and began again to cry gently. + +Paaker shrugged his shoulders, and went farther into the valley, which +he knew as well as his father’s house; for in it was the tomb of his +mother’s ancestors, in which, as a boy, he had put up prayers at every +full and new moon, and laid gifts on the altar. + +The hut of the paraschites was prohibited to him, but he knew that +scarcely a hundred paces from the spot where Nefert was sitting, lived +an old woman of evil repute, in whose hole in the rock he could not fail +to find a drink of water. + +He hastened forward, half intoxicated with had seen and felt within the +last few minutes. + +The door, which at night closed the cave against the intrusions of the +plunder-seeking jackals, was wide open, and the old woman sat outside +under a ragged piece of brown sail-cloth, fastened at one end to the +rock and at the other to two posts of rough wood. She was sorting a heap +of dark and light-colored roots, which lay in her lap. Near her was a +wheel, which turned in a high wooden fork. A wryneck made fast to it +by a little chain, and by springing from spoke to spoke kept it in +continual motion.--[From Theocritus’ idyl: The Sorceress.]--A large +black cat crouched beside her, and smelt at some ravens’ and owls’ +heads, from which the eyes had not long since been extracted. + +Two sparrow-hawks sat huddled up over the door of the cave, out of which +came the sharp odor of burning juniper-berries; this was intended +to render the various emanations rising from the different strange +substances, which were collected and preserved there, innocuous. + +As Paaker approached the cavern the old woman called out to some one +within: + +“Is the wax cooking?” + +An unintelligible murmur was heard in answer. + +Then throw in the ape’s eyes, + + [The sentences and mediums employed by the witches, according to + papyrus-rolls which remain. I have availed myself of the Magic + papyrus of Harris, and of two in the Berlin collection, one of which + is in Greek. ] + +and the ibis feathers, and the scraps of linen with the black signs on +them. Stir it all a little; now put out the fire, + +“Take the jug and fetch some water--make haste, here comes a stranger.” + +A sooty-black negro woman, with a piece of torn colorless stuff hanging +round her hips, set a large clay-jar on her grey woolly matted hair, and +without looking at him, went past Paaker, who was now close to the cave. + +The old woman, a tall figure bent with years, with a sharply-cut and +wrinkled face, that might once have been handsome, made her preparations +for receiving the visitor by tying a gaudy kerchief over her head, +fastening her blue cotton garment round her throat, and flinging a fibre +mat over the birds’ heads. + +Paaker called out to her, but she feigned to be deaf and not to hear his +voice. Only when he stood quite close to her, did she raise her shrewd, +twinkling eyes, and cry out: + +“A lucky day! a white day that brings a noble guest and high honor.” + +“Get up,” commanded Paaker, not giving her any greeting, but throwing a +silver ring among the roots that lay in her lap, + + [The Egyptians had no coins before Alexander and the Ptolemies, but + used metals for exchange, usually in the form of rings.] + +“and give me in exchange for good money some water in a clean vessel.” + +“Fine pure silver,” said the old woman, while she held the ring, which +she had quickly picked out from the roots, close to her eyes; “it is too +much for mere water, and too little for my good liquors.” + +“Don’t chatter, hussy, but make haste,” cried Paaker, taking another +ring from his money-bag and throwing it into her lap. + +“Thou hast an open hand,” said the old woman, speaking in the dialect +of the upper classes; “many doors must be open to thee, for money is +a pass-key that turns any lock. Would’st thou have water for thy good +money? Shall it protect thee against noxious beasts?--shall it help thee +to reach down a star? Shall it guide thee to secret paths?--It is thy +duty to lead the way. Shall it make heat cold, or cold warm? Shall +it give thee the power of reading hearts, or shall it beget beautiful +dreams? Wilt thou drink of the water of knowledge and see whether thy +friend or thine enemy--ha! if thine enemy shall die? Would’st thou a +drink to strengthen thy memory? Shall the water make thee invisible? or +remove the 6th toe from thy left foot?” + +“You know me?” asked Paaker. + +“How should I?” said the old woman, “but my eyes are sharp, and I can +prepare good waters for great and small.” + +“Mere babble!” exclaimed Paaker, impatiently clutching at the whip in +his girdle; “make haste, for the lady for whom--” + +“Dost thou want the water for a lady?” interrupted the old woman. “Who +would have thought it?--old men certainly ask for my philters much +oftener than young ones--but I can serve thee.” + +With these words the old woman went into the cave, and soon returned +with a thin cylindrical flask of alabaster in her hand. + +“This is the drink,” she said, giving the phial to Paaker. “Pour half +into water, and offer it to the lady. If it does not succeed at first, +it is certain the second time. A child may drink the water and it will +not hurt him, or if an old man takes it, it makes him gay. Ah, I know +the taste of it!” and she moistened her lips with the white fluid. “It +can hurt no one, but I will take no more of it, or old Hekt will be +tormented with love and longing for thee; and that would ill please the +rich young lord, ha! ha! If the drink is in vain I am paid enough, if +it takes effect thou shalt bring me three more gold rings; and thou wilt +return, I know it well.” + +Paaker had listened motionless to the old woman, and siezed the flask +eagerly, as if bidding defiance to some adversary; he put it in his +money bag, threw a few more rings at the feet of the witch, and once +more hastily demanded a bowl of Nile-water. + +“Is my lord in such a hurry?” muttered the old woman, once more going +into the cave. “He asks if I know him? him certainly I do? but +the darling? who can it be hereabouts? perhaps little Uarda at the +paraschites yonder. She is pretty enough; but she is lying on a mat, run +over and dying. We must see what my lord means. He would have pleased +me well enough, if I were young; but he will reach the goal, for he is +resolute and spares no one.” + +While she muttered these and similar words, she filled a graceful cup of +glazed earthenware with filtered Nile-water, which she poured out of a +large porous clay jar, and laid a laurel leaf, on which was scratched +two hearts linked together by seven strokes, on the surface of the +limpid fluid. Then she stepped out into the air again. + +As Paaker took the vessel from her looked at the laurel leaf, she said: + +“This indeed binds hearts; three is the husband, four is the wife, +seven is the chachach, charcharachacha.”--[This jargon is fund in a +magic-papyrus at Berlin.] + +The old woman sang this spell not without skill; but the Mohar appeared +not to listen to her jargon. He descended carefully into the valley, and +directed his steps to the resting place of the wife of Mena. + +By the side of a rock, which hill him from Nefert, he paused, set the +cup on a flat block of stone, and drew the flask with the philter out of +his girdle. + +His fingers trembled, but a thousand voices seemed to surge up and cry: + +“Take it!--do it!--put in the drink!--now or never.” He felt like a +solitary traveller, who finds on his road the last will of a relation +whose possessions he had hoped for, but which disinherits him. Shall he +surrender it to the judge, or shall he destroy it. + +Paaker was not merely outwardly devout; hitherto he had in everything +intended to act according to the prescriptions of the religion of his +fathers. Adultery was a heavy sin; but had not he an older right to +Nefert than the king’s charioteer? + +He who followed the black arts of magic, should, according to the law, +be punished by death, and the old woman had a bad name for her evil +arts; but he had not sought her for the sake of the philter. Was it not +possible that the Manes of his forefathers, that the Gods themselves, +moved by his prayers and offerings, had put him in possession by an +accident--which was almost a miracle--of the magic potion efficacy he +never for an instant doubted? + +Paaker’s associates held him to be a man of quick decision, and, in +fact, in difficult cases he could act with unusual rapidity, but what +guided him in these cases, was not the swift-winged judgment of a +prepared and well-schooled brain, but usually only resulted from the +outcome of a play of question and answer. + +Amulets of the most various kinds hung round his neck, and from his +girdle, all consecrated by priests, and of special sanctity or the +highest efficacy. + +There was the lapis lazuli eye, which hung to his girdle by a gold +chain; When he threw it on the ground, so as to lie on the earth, if its +engraved side turned to heaven, and its smooth side lay on the ground, +he said “yes;” in the other case, on the contrary, “no.” In his purse +lay always a statuette of the god Apheru, who opened roads; this he +threw down at cross-roads, and followed the direction which the pointed +snout of the image indicated. He frequently called into council the +seal-ring of his deceased father, an old family possession, which the +chief priests of Abydos had laid upon the holiest of the fourteen graves +of Osiris, and endowed with miraculous power. It consisted of a gold +ring with a broad signet, on which could be read the name of Thotmes +III., who had long since been deified, and from whom Paaker’s ancestors +had derived it. If it were desirable to consult the ring, the Mohar +touched with the point of his bronze dagger the engraved sign of the +name, below which were represented three objects sacred to the Gods, and +three that were, on the contrary, profane. If he hit one of the former, +he concluded that his father--who was gone to Osiris--concurred in his +design; in the contrary case he was careful to postpone it. Often he +pressed the ring to his heart, and awaited the first living creature +that he might meet, regarding it as a messenger from his father;--if it +came to him from the right hand as an encouragement, if from the left as +a warning. + +By degrees he had reduced these questionings to a system. All that he +found in nature he referred to himself and the current of his life. It +was at once touching, and pitiful, to see how closely he lived with the +Manes of his dead. His lively, but not exalted fancy, wherever he gave +it play, presented to the eye of his soul the image of his father and of +an elder brother who had died early, always in the same spot, and almost +tangibly distinct. + +But he never conjured up the remembrance of the beloved dead in order +to think of them in silent melancholy--that sweet blossom of the thorny +wreath of sorrow; only for selfish ends. The appeal to the Manes of +his father he had found especially efficacious in certain desires and +difficulties; calling on the Manes of his brother was potent in certain +others; and so he turned from one to the other with the precision of a +carpenter, who rarely doubts whether he should give the preference to a +hatchet or a saw. + +These doings he held to be well pleasing to the Gods, and as he was +convinced that the spirits of his dead had, after their justification, +passed into Osiris that is to say, as atoms forming part of the +great world-soul, at this time had a share in the direction of the +universe--he sacrificed to them not only in the family catacomb, but +also in the temples of the Necropolis dedicated to the worship of +ancestors, and with special preference in the House of Seti. + +He accepted advice, nay even blame, from Ameni and the other priests +under his direction; and so lived full of a virtuous pride in being one +of the most zealous devotees in the land, and one of the most pleasing +to the Gods, a belief on which his pastors never threw any doubt. + +Attended and guided at every step by supernatural powers, he wanted no +friend and no confidant. In the fleld, as in Thebes, he stood apart, and +passed among his comrades for a reserved man, rough and proud, but with +a strong will. + +He had the power of calling up the image of his lost love with as much +vividness as the forms of the dead, and indulged in this magic, not only +through a hundred still nights, but in long rides and drives through +silent wastes. + +Such visions were commonly followed by a vehement and boiling overflow +of his hatred against the charioteer, and a whole series of fervent +prayers for his destruction. + +When Paaker set the cup of water for Nefert on the flat stone and felt +for the philter, his soul was so full of desire that there was no room +for hatred; still he could not altogether exclude the idea that he would +commit a great crime by making use of a magic drink. Before pouring the +fateful drops into the water, he would consult the oracle of the ring. +The dagger touched none of the holy symbols of the inscription on the +signet, and in other circumstances he would, without going any farther, +have given up his project. + +But this time he unwillingly returned it to its sheath, pressed the +gold ring to his heart, muttered the name of his brother in Osiris, and +awaited the first living creature that might come towards him. + +He had not long to wait, from the mountain slope opposite to him rose, +with heavy, slow wing-strokes, two light-colored vultures. + +In anxious suspense he followed their flight, as they rose, higher +and higher. For a moment they poised motionless, borne up by the air, +circled round each other, then wheeled to the left and vanished behind +the mountains, denying him the fulfilment of his desire. + +He hastily grasped the phial to fling it from him, but the surging +passion in his veins had deprived him of his self-control. Nefert’s +image stood before him as if beckoning him; a mysterious power clenched +his fingers close and yet closer round the phial, and with the same +defiance which he showed to his associates, he poured half of the +philter into the cup and approached his victim. + +Nefert had meanwhile left her shady retreat and come towards him. + +She silently accepted the water he offered her, and drank it with +delight, to the very dregs. + +“‘Thank you,” she said, when she had recovered breath after her eager +draught. + +“That has done me good! How fresh and acid the water tastes; but your +hand shakes, and you are heated by your quick run for me--poor man.” + +With these words she looked at him with a peculiar expressive glance of +her large eyes, and gave him her right hand, which he pressed wildly to +his lips. + +“That will do,” she said smiling; “here comes the princess with a +priest, out of the hovel of the unclean. With what frightful words you +terrified me just now. It is true I gave you just cause to be angry with +me; but now you are kind again--do you hear?--and will bring your +mother again to see mine. Not a word. I shall see, whether cousin Paaker +refuses me obedience.” + +She threatened him playfully with her finger, and then growing grave she +added, with a look that pierced Paaker’s heart with pain, and yet with +ecstasy, “Let us leave off quarrelling. It is so much better when people +are kind to each other.” + +After these words she walked towards the house of the paraschites, while +Paaker pressed his hands to his breast, and murmured: + +“The drink is working, and she will be mine. I thank ye--ye Immortals!” + +But this thanksgiving, which hitherto he had never failed to utter when +any good fortune had befallen him, to-day died on his lips. Close before +him he saw the goal of his desires; there, under his eyes, lay the magic +spring longed for for years. A few steps farther, and he might slake at +its copious stream his thirst both for love and for revenge. + +While he followed the wife of Mena, and replaced the phial carefully in +his girdle, so as to lose no drop of the precious fluid which, according +to the prescription of the old woman, he needed to use again, warning +voices spoke in his breast, to which he usually listened as to a +fatherly admonition; but at this moment he mocked at them, and even gave +outward expression to the mood that ruled him--for he flung up his right +hand like a drunken man, who turns away from the preacher of morality on +his way to the wine-cask; and yet passion held him so closely ensnared, +that the thought that he should live through the swift moments which +would change him from an honest man into a criminal, hardly dawned, +darkly on his soul. He had hitherto dared to indulge his desire for +love and revenge in thought only, and had left it to the Gods to act +for themselves; now he had taken his cause out of the hand of the +Celestials, and gone into action without them, and in spite of them. + +The sorceress Hekt passed him; she wanted to see the woman for whom she +had given him the philter. He perceived her and shuddered, but soon the +old woman vanished among the rocks muttering. + +“Look at the fellow with six toes. He makes himself comfortable with the +heritage of Assa.” + +In the middle of the valley walked Nefert and the pioneer, with the +princess Bent-Anat and Pentaur who accompanied her. + +When these two had come out of the hut of the paraschites, they stood +opposite each other in silence. The royal maiden pressed her hand to +her heart, and, like one who is thirsty, drank in the pure air of the +mountain valley with deeply drawn breath; she felt as if released from +some overwhelming burden, as if delivered from some frightful danger. + +At last she turned to her companion, who gazed earnestly at the ground. + +“What an hour!” she said. + +Pentaur’s tall figure did not move, but he bowed his head in assent, as +if he were in a dream. Bent-Anat now saw him for the first time in fall +daylight; her large eyes rested on him with admiration, and she asked: + +“Art thou the priest, who yesterday, after my first visit to this house, +so readily restored me to cleanness?” + +“I am he,” replied Pentaur. + +“I recognized thy voice, and I am grateful to thee, for it was thou that +didst strengthen my courage to follow the impulse of my heart, in spite +of my spiritual guides, and to come here again. Thou wilt defend me if +others blame me.” + +“I came here to pronounce thee unclean.” + +“Then thou hast changed thy mind?” asked Bent-Anat, and a smile of +contempt curled her lips. + +“I follow a high injunction, that commands us to keep the old +institutions sacred. If touching a paraschites, it is said, does not +defile a princess, whom then can it defile? for whose garment is more +spotless than hers?” + +“But this is a good man with all his meanness,” interrupted Bent-Anat, +“and in spite of the disgrace, which is the bread of life to him as +honor is to us. May the nine great Gods forgive me! but he who is in +there is loving, pious and brave, and pleases me--and thou, thou, +who didst think yesterday to purge away the taint of his touch with a +word--what prompts thee today to cast him with the lepers?” + +“The admonition of an enlightened man, never to give up any link of +the old institutions; because thereby the already weakened chain may be +broken, and fall rattling to the ground.” + +“Then thou condemnest me to uncleanness for the sake of all old +superstition, and of the populace, but not for my actions? Thou art +silent? Answer me now, if thou art such a one as I took the for, freely +and sincerely; for it concerns the peace of my soul.” Pentaur breathed +hard; and then from the depths of his soul, tormented by doubts, these +deeply-felt words forced themselves as if wrung from him; at first +softly, but louder as he went on. + +“Thou dost compel me to say what I had better not even think; but rather +will I sin against obedience than against truth, the pure daughter +of the Sun, whose aspect, Bent-Anat, thou dost wear. Whether the +paraschites is unclean by birth or not, who am I that I should decide? +But to me this man appeared--as to thee--as one moved by the same pure +and holy emotions as stir and bless me and mine, and thee and every +soul born of woman; and I believe that the impressions of this hour have +touched thy soul as well as mine, not to taint, but to purify. If I am +wrong, may the many-named Gods forgive me, Whose breath lives and works +in the paraschites as well as in thee and me, in Whom I believe, and to +Whom I will ever address my humble songs, louder and more joyfully, as I +learn that all that lives and breathes, that weeps and rejoices, is the +image of their sublime nature, and born to equal joy and equal sorrow.” + +Pentaur had raised his eyes to heaven; now they met the proud and joyful +radiance of the princess’ glance, while she frankly offered him her +hand. He humbly kissed her robe, but she said: + +“Nay--not so. Lay thy hand in blessing on mine. Thou art a man and a +true priest. Now I can be satisfied to be regarded as unclean, for my +father also desires that, by us especially, the institutions of the past +that have so long continued should be respected, for the sake of the +people. Let us pray in common to the Gods, that these poor people may +be released from the old ban. How beautiful the world might be, if men +would but let man remain what the Celestials have made him. But Paaker +and poor Nefert are waiting in the scorching sun-come, follow me.” + +She went forward, but after a few steps she turned round to him, and +asked: + +“What is thy name?” + +“Pentaur.” + +“Thou then art the poet of the House of Seti?” + +“They call me so.” + +Bent-Anat stood still a moment, gazing full at him as at a kinsman whom +we meet for the first time face to face, and said: + +“The Gods have given thee great gifts, for thy glance reaches farther +and pierces deeper than that of other men; and thou canst say in words +what we can only feel--I follow thee willingly!” + +Pentaur blushed like a boy, and said, while Paaker and Nefert came +nearer to them: + +“Till to-day life lay before me as if in twilight; but this moment shows +it me in another light. I have seen its deepest shadows; and,” he added +in a low tone “how glorious its light can be.” + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +An hour later, Bent-Anat and her train of followers stood before the +gate of the House of Seti. + +Swift as a ball thrown from a man’s hand, a runner had sprung forward +and hurried on to announce the approach of the princess to the +chief priest. She stood alone in her chariot, in advance of all her +companions, for Pentaur had found a place with Paaker. At the gate of +the temple they were met by the head of the haruspices. + +The great doors of the pylon were wide open, and afforded a view into +the forecourt of the sanctuary, paved with polished squares of +stone, and surrounded on three sides with colonnades. The walls and +architraves, the pillars and the fluted cornice, which slightly curved +in over the court, were gorgeous with many colored figures and painted +decorations. In the middle stood a great sacrificial altar, on which +burned logs of cedar wood, whilst fragrant balls of Kyphi + + [Kyphi was a celebrated Egyptian incense. Recipes for its + preparation have been preserved in the papyrus of Ebers, in the + laboratories of the temples, and elsewhere. Parthey had three + different varieties prepared by the chemist, L. Voigt, in Berlin. + Kyphi after the formula of Dioskorides was the best. It consisted + of rosin, wine, rad, galangae, juniper berries, the root of the + aromatic rush, asphalte, mastic, myrrh, Burgundy grapes, and honey.] + +were consumed by the flames, filling the wide space with their heavy +perfume. Around, in semi-circular array, stood more than a hundred +white-robed priests, who all turned to face the approaching princess, +and sang heart-rending songs of lamentation. + +Many of the inhabitants of the Necropolis had collected on either side +of the lines of sphinxes, between which the princess drove up to the +Sanctuary. But none asked what these songs of lamentation might signify, +for about this sacred place lamentation and mystery for ever lingered. +“Hail to the child of Rameses!”--“All hail to the daughter of the Sun!” + rang from a thousand throats; and the assembled multitude bowed almost +to the earth at the approach of the royal maiden. + +At the pylon, the princess descended from her chariot, and preceded by +the chief of the haruspices, who had gravely and silently greeted her, +passed on to the door of the temple. But as she prepared to cross the +forecourt, suddenly, without warning, the priests’ chant swelled to a +terrible, almost thundering loudness, the clear, shrill voice of the +Temple scholars rising in passionate lament, supported by the deep and +threatening roll of the basses. + +Bent-Anat started and checked her steps. Then she walked on again. + +But on the threshold of the door, Ameni, in full pontifical robes, stood +before her in the way, his crozier extended as though to forbid her +entrance. + +“The advent of the daughter of Rameses in her purity,” he cried in loud +and passionate tones, “augurs blessing to this sanctuary; but this +abode of the Gods closes its portals on the unclean, be they slaves or +princes. In the name of the Immortals, from whom thou art descended, I +ask thee, Bent-Anat, art thou clean, or hast thou, through the touch of +the unclean, defiled thyself and contaminated thy royal hand?” + +Deep scarlet flushed the maiden’s cheeks, there was a rushing sound in +her ears as of a stormy sea surging close beside her, and her bosom rose +and fell in passionate emotion. The kingly blood in her veins boiled +wildly; she felt that an unworthy part had been assigned to her in +a carefully-premeditated scene; she forgot her resolution to accuse +herself of uncleanness, and already her lips were parted in vehement +protest against the priestly assumption that so deeply stirred her +to rebellion, when Ameni, who placed himself directly in front of the +Princess, raised his eyes, and turned them full upon her with all the +depths of their indwelling earnestness. + +The words died away, and Bent-Anat stood silent, but she endured the +gaze, and returned it proudly and defiantly. + +The blue veins started in Ameni’s forehead; yet he repressed the +resentment which was gathering like thunder clouds in his soul, and +said, with a voice that gradually deviated more and more from its usual +moderation: + +“For the second time the Gods demand through me, their representative: +Hast thou entered this holy place in order that the Celestials may purge +thee of the defilement that stains thy body and soul?” + +“My father will communicate the answer to thee,” replied Bent-Anat +shortly and proudly. + +“Not to me,” returned Ameni, “but to the Gods, in whose name I now +command thee to quit this sanctuary, which is defiled by thy presence.” + +Bent-Anat’s whole form quivered. “I will go,” she said with sullen +dignity. + +She turned to recross the gateway of the Pylon. At the first step her +glance met the eye of the poet. As one to whom it is vouchsafed to stand +and gaze at some great prodigy, so Pentaur had stood opposite the royal +maiden, uneasy and yet fascinated, agitated, yet with secretly uplifted +soul. Her deed seemed to him of boundless audacity, and yet one suited +to her true and noble nature. By her side, Ameni, his revered and +admired master, sank into insignificance; and when she turned to leave +the temple, his hand was raised indeed to hold her back, but as his +glance met hers, his hand refused its office, and sought instead to +still the throbbing of his overflowing heart. + +The experienced priest, meanwhile, read the features of these two +guileless beings like an open book. A quickly-formed tie, he felt, +linked their souls, and the look which he saw them exchange startled +him. The rebellious princess had glanced at the poet as though claiming +approbation for her triumph, and Pentaur’s eyes had responded to the +appeal. + +One instant Ameni paused. Then he cried: “Bent-Anat!” + +The princess turned to the priest, and looked at him gravely and +enquiringly. + +Ameni took a step forward, and stood between her and the poet. + +“Thou wouldst challenge the Gods to combat,” he said sternly. “That is +bold; but such daring it seems to me has grown up in thee because thou +canst count on an ally, who stands scarcely farther from the Immortals +than I myself. Hear this:--to thee, the misguided child, much may be +forgiven. But a servant of the Divinity,” and with these words he turned +a threatening glance on Pentaur--“a priest, who in the war of free-will +against law becomes a deserter, who forgets his duty and his oath--he +will not long stand beside thee to support thee, for he--even though +every God had blessed him with the richest gifts--he is damned. We drive +him from among us, we curse him, we--” + +At these words Bent-Anat looked now at Ameni, trembling with excitement, +now at Pentaur standing opposite to her. Her face was red and white +by turns, as light and shade chase each other on the ground when at +noon-day a palm-grove is stirred by a storm. + +The poet took a step towards her. + +She felt that if he spoke it would be to defend all that she had done, +and to ruin himself. A deep sympathy, a nameless anguish seized her +soul, and before Pentaur could open his lips, she had sunk slowly down +before Ameni, saying in low tones: + +“I have sinned and defiled myself; thou hast said it--as Pentaur said it +by the hut of the paraschites. Restore me to cleanness, Ameni, for I am +unclean.” + +Like a flame that is crushed out by a hand, so the fire in the +high-priest’s eye was extinguished. Graciously, almost lovingly, he +looked down on the princess, blessed her and conducted her before the +holy of holies, there had clouds of incense wafted round her, anointed +her with the nine holy oils, and commanded her to return to the royal +castle. + +Yet, said he, her guilt was not expiated; she should shortly learn by +what prayers and exercises she might attain once more to perfect purity +before the Gods, of whom he purposed to enquire in the holy place. + +During all these ceremonies the priests stationed in the forecourt +continued their lamentations. + +The people standing before the temple listened to the priest’s chant, +and interrupted it from time to time with ringing cries of wailing, for +already a dark rumor of what was going on within had spread among the +multitude. + +The sun was going down. The visitors to the Necropolis must soon be +leaving it, and Bent-Anat, for whose appearance the people impatiently +waited, would not show herself. One and another said the princess had +been cursed, because she had taken remedies to the fair and injured +Uarda, who was known to many of them. + +Among the curious who had flocked together were many embalmers, +laborers, and humble folk, who lived in the Necropolis. The mutinous and +refractory temper of the Egyptians, which brought such heavy suffering +on them under their later foreign rulers, was aroused, and rising +with every minute. They reviled the pride of the priests, and their +senseless, worthless, institutions. A drunken soldier, who soon reeled +back into the tavern which he had but just left, distinguished himself +as ringleader, and was the first to pick up a heavy stone to fling at +the huge brass-plated temple gates. A few boys followed his example +with shouts, and law-abiding men even, urged by the clamor of fanatical +women, let themselves be led away to stone-flinging and words of abuse. + +Within the House of Seti the priests’ chant went on uninterruptedly; +but at last, when the noise of the crowd grew louder, the great gate was +thrown open, and with a solemn step Ameni, in full robes, and followed +by twenty pastophori--[An order of priests]--who bore images of the Gods +and holy symbols on their shoulders--Ameni walked into the midst of the +crowd. + +All were silent. + +“Wherefore do you disturb our worship?” he asked loudly and calmly. + +A roar of confused cries answered him, in which the frequently repeated +name of Bent-Anat could alone be distinguished. + +Ameni preserved his immoveable composure, and, raising his crozier, he +cried-- + +“Make way for the daughter of Rameses, who sought and has found +purification from the Gods, who behold the guilt of the highest as +of the lowest among you. They reward the pious, but they punish the +offender. Kneel down and let us pray that they may forgive you, and +bless both you and your children.” + +Ameni took the holy Sistrum + + [A rattling metal instrument used by the Egyptians in the service of + the Gods. Many specimens are extant in Museums. Plutarch describes + it correctly, thus: “The Sistrum is rounded above, and the loop + holds the four bars which are shaken.” On the bend of the Sistrum + they often set the head of a cat with a human face.] + +from one of the attendant pastophori, and held it on high; the priests +behind him raised a solemn hymn, and the crowd sank on their knees; nor +did they move till the chant ceased and the high-priest again cried out: + +“The Immortals bless you by me their servant. Leave this spot and make +way for the daughter of Rameses.” + +With these words he withdrew into the temple, and the patrol, without +meeting with any opposition, cleared the road guarded by Sphinxes which +led to the Nile. + +As Bent-Anat mounted her chariot Ameni said “Thou art the child of +kings. The house of thy father rests on the shoulders of the people. +Loosen the old laws which hold them subject, and the people will conduct +themselves like these fools.” + +Ameni retired. Bent-Anat slowly arranged the reins in her hand, her eyes +resting the while on the poet, who, leaning against a door-post, gazed +at her in beatitude. She let her whip fall to the ground, that he might +pick it up and restore it to her, but he did not observe it. A runner +sprang forward and handed it to the princess, whose horses started off, +tossing themselves and neighing. + +Pentaur remained as if spell-bound, standing by the pillar, till the +rattle of the departing wheels on the flag-way of the Avenue of Sphinxes +had altogether died away, and the reflection of the glowing sunset +painted the eastern hills with soft and rosy hues. + +The far-sounding clang of a brass gong roused the poet from his ecstasy. +It was the tomtom calling him to duty, to the lecture on rhetoric which +at this hour he had to deliver to the young priests. He laid his left +hand to his heart, and pressed his right hand to his forehead, as if +to collect in its grasp his wandering thoughts; then silently and +mechanically he went towards the open court in which his disciples +awaited him. But instead of, as usual, considering on the way the +subject he was to treat, his spirit and heart were occupied with the +occurrences of the last few hours. One image reigned supreme in his +imagination, filling it with delight--it was that of the fairest woman, +who, radiant in her royal dignity and trembling with pride, had thrown +herself in the dust for his sake. He felt as if her action had invested +her whole being with a new and princely worth, as if her glance had +brought light to his inmost soul, he seemed to breathe a freer air, to +be borne onward on winged feet. + +In such a mood he appeared before his hearers. When he found himself +confronting all the the well-known faces, he remembered what it was +he was called upon to do. He supported himself against the wall of the +court, and opened the papyrus-roll handed to him by his favorite pupil, +the young Anana. It was the book which twenty-four hours ago he had +promised to begin upon. He looked now upon the characters that covered +it, and felt that he was unable to read a word. + +With a powerful effort he collected himself, and looking upwards tried +to find the thread he had cut at the end of yesterday’s lecture, and +intended to resume to-day; but between yesterday and to-day, as it +seemed to him, lay a vast sea whose roaring surges stunned his memory +and powers of thought. + +His scholars, squatting cross-legged on reed mats before him, gazed in +astonishment on their silent master who was usually so ready of speech, +and looked enquiringly at each other. A young priest whispered to his +neighbor, “He is praying--” and Anana noticed with silent anxiety the +strong hand of his teacher clutching the manuscript so tightly that the +slight material of which it consisted threatened to split. + +At last Pentaur looked down; he had found a subject. While he was +looking upwards his gaze fell on the opposite wall, and the painted +name of the king with the accompanying title “the good God” met his eye. +Starting from these words he put this question to his hearers, “How do +we apprehend the Goodness of the Divinity?” + +He challenged one priest after another to treat this subject as if he +were standing before his future congregation. + +Several disciples rose, and spoke with more or less truth and feeling. +At last it came to Anana’s turn, who, in well-chosen words, praised +the purpose-full beauty of animate and inanimate creation, in which the +goodness of Amon + + [Amon, that is to say, “the hidden one.” He was the God of Thebes, + which was under his aegis, and after the Hykssos were expelled from + the Nile-valley, he was united with Ra of Heliopolis and endowed + with the attributes of all the remaining Gods. His nature was more + and more spiritualized, till in the esoteric philosophy of the time + of the Rameses he is compared to the All filling and All guiding + intelligence. He is “the husband of his mother, his own father, and + his own son,” As the living Osiris, he is the soul and spirit of all + creation.] + +of Ra, + + [Ra, originally the Sun-God; later his name was introduced into the + pantheistic mystic philosophy for that of the God who is the + Universe.] + +and Ptah, + + [Ptah is the Greek Henhaistas, the oldest of the Gods, the great + maker of the material for the creation, the “first beginner,” by + whose side the seven Chnemu stand, as architects, to help him, and + who was named “the lord of truth,” because the laws and conditions + of being proceeded from him. He created also the germ of light, he + stood therefore at the head of the solar Gods, and was called the + creator of ice, from which, when he had cleft it, the sun and the + moan came forth. Hence his name “the opener.”] + +as well as of the other Gods, finds expression. + +Pentaur listened to the youth with folded arms, now looking at him +enquiringly, now adding approbation. Then taking up the thread of the +discourse when it was ended, he began himself to speak. + +Like obedient falcons at the call of the falconer, thoughts rushed down +into his mind, and the divine passion awakened in his breast glowed and +shone through his inspired language that soared every moment on freer +and stronger wings. Melting into pathos, exulting in rapture, he praised +the splendor of nature; and the words flowed from his lips like a limpid +crystal-clear stream as he glorified the eternal order of things, and +the incomprehensible wisdom and care of the Creator--the One, who is one +alone, and great and without equal. + +“So incomparable,” he said in conclusion, “is the home which God has +given us. All that He--the One--has created is penetrated with His own +essence, and bears witness to His Goodness. He who knows how to find Him +sees Him everywhere, and lives at every instant in the enjoyment of His +glory. Seek Him, and when ye have found Him fall down and sing praises +before Him. But praise the Highest, not only in gratitude for the +splendor of that which he has created, but for having given us the +capacity for delight in his work. Ascend the mountain peaks and look on +the distant country, worship when the sunset glows with rubies, and the +dawn with roses, go out in the nighttime, and look at the stars as they +travel in eternal, unerring, immeasurable, and endless circles on silver +barks through the blue vault of heaven, stand by the cradle of the +child, by the buds of the flowers, and see how the mother bends over +the one, and the bright dew-drops fall on the other. But would you know +where the stream of divine goodness is most freely poured out, where the +grace of the Creator bestows the richest gifts, and where His holiest +altars are prepared? In your own heart; so long as it is pure and full +of love. In such a heart, nature is reflected as in a magic mirror, on +whose surface the Beautiful shines in three-fold beauty. There the eye +can reach far away over stream, and meadow, and hill, and take in the +whole circle of the earth; there the morning and evening-red shine, +not like roses and rubies, but like the very cheeks of the Goddess of +Beauty; there the stars circle on, not in silence, but with the mighty +voices of the pure eternal harmonies of heaven; there the child smiles +like an infant-god, and the bud unfolds to magic flowers; finally, +there thankfulness grows broader and devotion grows deeper, and we throw +ourselves into the arms of a God, who--as I imagine his glory--is a +God to whom the sublime nine great Gods pray as miserable and helpless +suppliants.” + +The tomtom which announced the end of the hour interrupted him. + +Pentaur ceased speaking with a deep sigh, and for a minute not a scholar +moved. + +At last the poet laid the papyrus roll out of his hand, wiped the sweat +from his hot brow, and walked slowly towards the gate of the court, +which led into the sacred grove of the temple. He had hardly crossed the +threshold when he felt a hand laid upon his shoulder. + +He looked round. Behind him stood Ameni. “You fascinated your hearers, +my friend,” said the high-priest, coldly; “it is a pity that only the +Harp was wanting.” + +Ameni’s words fell on the agitated spirit of the poet like ice on the +breast of a man in fever. He knew this tone in his master’s voice, for +thus he was accustomed to reprove bad scholars and erring priests; but +to him he had never yet so spoken. + +“It certainly would seem,” continued the high-priest, bitterly, “as if +in your intoxication you had forgotten what it becomes the teacher to +utter in the lecture-hall. Only a few weeks since you swore on my hands +to guard the mysteries, and this day you have offered the great secret +of the Unnameable one, the most sacred possession of the initiated, like +some cheap ware in the open market.” + +“Thou cuttest with knives,” said Pentaur. + +“May they prove sharp, and extirpate the undeveloped canker, the rank +weed from your soul,” cried the high-priest. “You are young, too young; +not like the tender fruit-tree that lets itself be trained aright, and +brought to perfection, but like the green fruit on the ground, which +will turn to poison for the children who pick it up--yea even though it +fall from a sacred tree. Gagabu and I received you among us, against +the opinion of the majority of the initiated. We gainsaid all those +who doubted your ripeness because of your youth; and you swore to me, +gratefully and enthusiastically, to guard the mysteries and the law. +To-day for the first time I set you on the battle-field of life beyond +the peaceful shelter of the schools. And how have you defended the +standard that it was incumbent on you to uphold and maintain?” + +“I did that which seemed to me to be right and true,” answered Pentaur +deeply moved. + +“Right is the same for you as for us--what the law prescribes; and what +is truth?” + +“None has lifted her veil,” said Pentaur, “but my soul is the offspring +of the soul-filled body of the All; a portion of the infallible spirit +of the Divinity stirs in my breast, and if it shows itself potent in +me--” + +“How easily we may mistake the flattering voice of self-love for that of +the Divinity!” + +“Cannot the Divinity which works and speaks in me--as in thee--as in +each of us--recognize himself and his own voice?” + +“If the crowd were to hear you,” Ameni interrupted him, “each would set +himself on his little throne, would proclaim the voice of the god within +him as his guide, tear the law to shreds, and let the fragments fly to +the desert on the east wind.” + +“I am one of the elect whom thou thyself hast taught to seek and to +find the One. The light which I gaze on and am blest, would strike the +crowd--I do not deny it--with blindness--” + +“And nevertheless you blind our disciples with the dangerous glare-” + +“I am educating them for future sages.” + +“And that with the hot overflow of a heart intoxicated with love!” + +“Ameni!” + +“I stand before you, uninvited, as your teacher, who reproves you out of +the law, which always and everywhere is wiser than the individual, whose +defender the king--among his highest titles--boasts of being, and to +which the sage bows as much as the common man whom we bring up to blind +belief--I stand before you as your father, who has loved you from a +child, and expected from none of his disciples more than from you; and +who will therefore neither lose you nor abandon the hope he has set upon +you-- + +“Make ready to leave our quiet house early tomorrow morning. You have +forfeited your office of teacher. You shall now go into the school of +life, and make yourself fit for the honored rank of the initiated which, +by my error, was bestowed on you too soon. You must leave your scholars +without any leave-taking, however hard it may appear to you. After the +star of Sothis + + [The holy star of Isis, Sirius or the dog star, whose course in the + time of the Pharaohs coincided with the exact Solar year, and served + at a very early date as a foundation for the reckoning of time among + the Egyptians.] + +has risen come for your instructions. You must in these next months try +to lead the priesthood in the temple of Hatasu, and in that post to win +back my confidence which you have thrown away. No remonstrance; to-night +you will receive my blessing, and our authority--you must greet the +rising sun from the terrace of the new scene of your labors. May the +Unnameable stamp the law upon your soul!” + +Ameni returned to his room. + +He walked restlessly to and fro. + +On a little table lay a mirror; he looked into the clear metal pane, +and laid it back in its place again, as if he had seen some strange and +displeasing countenance. + +The events of the last few hours had moved him deeply, and shaken his +confidence in his unerring judgment of men and things. + +The priests on the other bank of the Nile were Bent-Anat’s counsellors, +and he had heard the princess spoken of as a devout and gifted maiden. +Her incautious breach of the sacred institutions had seemed to him +to offer a welcome opportunity for humiliating--a member of the royal +family. + +Now he told himself that he had undervalued this young creature that he +had behaved clumsily, perhaps foolishly, to her; for he did not for a +moment conceal from himself that her sudden change of demeanor resulted +much more from the warm flow of her sympathy, or perhaps of her, +affection, than from any recognition of her guilt, and he could not +utilize her transgression with safety to himself, unless she felt +herself guilty. + +Nor was he of so great a nature as to be wholly free from vanity, and +his vanity had been deeply wounded by the haughty resistance of the +princess. + +When he commanded Pentaur to meet the princess with words of reproof, he +had hoped to awaken his ambition through the proud sense of power over +the mighty ones of the earth. + +And now? + +How had his gifted admirer, the most hopeful of all his disciples, stood +the test. + +The one ideal of his life, the unlimited dominion of the priestly idea +over the minds of men, and of the priesthood over the king himself, had +hitherto remained unintelligible to this singular young man. + +He must learn to understand it. + +“Here, as the least among a hundred who are his superiors, all the +powers of resistance of his soaring soul have been roused,” said Ameni +to himself. “In the temple of Hatasu he will have to rule over the +inferior orders of slaughterers of victims and incense-burners; and, +by requiring obedience, will learn to estimate the necessity of it. The +rebel, to whom a throne devolves, becomes a tyrant!” + +“Pentuar’s poet soul,” so he continued to reflect “has quickly yielded +itself a prisoner to the charm of Bent-Anat; and what woman could resist +this highly favored being, who is radiant in beauty as Ra-Harmachis, and +from whose lips flows speech as sweet as Techuti’s. They ought never to +meet again, for no tie must bind him to the house of Rameses.” + +Again he paced to and fro, and murmured: + +“How is this? Two of my disciples have towered above their fellows, in +genius and gifts, like palm trees above their undergrowth. I brought +them up to succeed me, to inherit my labors and my hopes. + +“Mesu fell away; + + [Mesu is the Egyptian name of Moses, whom we may consider as a + contemporary of Rameses, under whose successor the exodus of the + Jews from Egypt took place.] + +and Pentaur may follow him. Must my aim be an unworthy one because it +does not attract the noblest? Not so. Each feels himself made of better +stuff than his companions in destiny, constitutes his own law, and fears +to see the great expended in trifles; but I think otherwise; like a +brook of ferruginous water from Lebanon, I mix with the great stream, +and tinge it with my color.” + +Thinking thus Ameni stood still. + +Then he called to one of the so-called “holy fathers,” his private +secretary, and said: + +“Draw up at once a document, to be sent to all the priests’-colleges in +the land. Inform them that the daughter of Rameses has lapsed seriously +from the law, and defiled herself, and direct that public--you hear me +public--prayers shall be put up for her purification in every temple. +Lay the letter before me to be signed within in hour. But no! Give me +your reed and palette; I will myself draw up the instructions.” + +The “holy father” gave him writing materials, and retired into the +background. Ameni muttered: “The King will do us some unheard-of +violence! Well, this writing may be the first arrow in opposition to his +lance.” + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +The moon was risen over the city of the living that lay opposite the +Necropolis of Thebes. + +The evening song had died away in the temples, that stood about a mile +from the Nile, connected with each other by avenues of sphinxes and +pylons; but in the streets of the city life seemed only just really +awake. + +The coolness, which had succeeded the heat of the summer day, tempted +the citizens out into the air, in front of their doors or on the +roofs and turrets of their houses; or at the tavern-tables, where they +listened to the tales of the story-tellers while they refreshed them +selves with beer, wine, and the sweet juice of fruits. Many simple folks +squatted in circular groups on the ground, and joined in the burden of +songs which were led by an appointed singer, to the sound of a tabor and +flute. + +To the south of the temple of Amon stood the king’s palace, and near it, +in more or less extensive gardens, rose the houses of the magnates +of the kingdom, among which, one was distinguished by it splendor and +extent. + +Paaker, the king’s pioneer, had caused it to be erected after the +death of his father, in the place of the more homely dwelling of his +ancestors, when he hoped to bring home his cousin, and install her as +its mistress. A few yards further to the east was another stately though +older and less splendid house, which Mena, the king’s charioteer, had +inherited from his father, and which was inhabited by his wife Nefert +and her mother Isatuti, while he himself, in the distant Syrian land, +shared the tent of the king, as being his body-guard. Before the door +of each house stood servants bearing torches, and awaiting the long +deferred return home of their masters. + +The gate, which gave admission to Paaker’s plot of ground through the +wall which surrounded it, was disproportionately, almost ostentatiously, +high and decorated with various paintings. On the right hand and on the +left, two cedar-trunks were erected as masts to carry standards; he had +had them felled for the purpose on Lebanon, and forwarded by ship to +Pelusium on the north-east coast of Egypt. Thence they were conveyed by +the Nile to Thebes. + +On passing through the gate one entered a wide, paved court-yard, at +the sides of which walks extended, closed in at the back, and with roofs +supported on slender painted wooden columns. Here stood the pioneer’s +horses and chariots, here dwelt his slaves, and here the necessary store +of produce for the month’s requirements was kept. + +In the farther wall of this store-court was a very high doorway, that +led into a large garden with rows of well-tended trees and trellised +vines, clumps of shrubs, flowers, and beds of vegetables. Palms, +sycamores, and acacia-trees, figs, pomegranates, and jasmine throve +here particularly well--for Paaker’s mother, Setchem, superintended the +labors of the gardeners; and in the large tank in the midst there was +never any lack of water for watering the beds and the roots of the +trees, as it was always supplied by two canals, into which wheels turned +by oxen poured water day and night from the Nile-stream. + +On the right side of this plot of ground rose the one-storied dwelling +house, its length stretching into distant perspective, as it consisted +of a single row of living and bedrooms. Almost every room had its own +door, that opened into a veranda supported by colored wooden columns, +and which extended the whole length of the garden side of the house. +This building was joined at a right angle by a row of store-rooms, in +which the garden-produce in fruits and vegetables, the wine-jars, and +the possessions of the house in woven stuffs, skins, leather, and other +property were kept. + +In a chamber of strong masonry lay safely locked up the vast riches +accumulated by Paaker’s father and by himself, in gold and silver rings, +vessels and figures of beasts. Nor was there lack of bars of copper and +of precious stones, particularly of lapis-lazuli and malachite. + +In the middle of the garden stood a handsomely decorated kiosk, and a +chapel with images of the Gods; in the background stood the statues of +Paaker’s ancestors in the form of Osiris wrapped in mummy-cloths. + + [The justified dead became Osiris; that is to say, attained to the + fullest union (Henosis) with the divinity.] + +The faces, which were likenesses, alone distinguished these statues from +each other. + +The left side of the store-yard was veiled in gloom, yet the moonlight +revealed numerous dark figures clothed only with aprons, the slaves of +the king’s pioneer, who squatted on the ground in groups of five or six, +or lay near each other on thin mats of palm-bast, their hard beds. + +Not far from the gate, on the right side of the court, a few lamps +lighted up a group of dusky men, the officers of Paaker’s household, who +wore short, shirt-shaped, white garments, and who sat on a carpet round +a table hardly two feet high. They were eating their evening-meal, +consisting of a roasted antelope, and large flat cakes of bread. Slaves +waited on them, and filled their earthen beakers with yellow beer. The +steward cut up the great roast on the table, offered the intendant of +the gardens a piece of antelope-leg, and said: + + [The Greeks and Romans report that the Egyptians were so addicted to + satire and pungent witticisms that they would hazard property and + life to gratify their love of mockery. The scandalous pictures in + the so-called kiosk of Medinet Habu, the caricatures in an + indescribable papyrus at Turin, confirm these statements. There is + a noteworthy passage in Flavius Vopiscus, that compares the + Egyptians to the French.] + +“My arms ache; the mob of slaves get more and more dirty and +refractory.” + +“I notice it in the palm-trees,” said the gardener, “you want so many +cudgels that their crowns will soon be as bare as a moulting bird.” + +“We should do as the master does,” said the head-groom, “and get sticks +of ebony--they last a hundred years.” + +“At any rate longer than men’s bones,” laughed the chief neat-herd, who +had come in to town from the pioneer’s country estate, bringing with him +animals for sacrifices, butter and cheese. “If we were all to follow the +master’s example, we should soon have none but cripples in the servant’s +house.” + +“Out there lies the lad whose collar-bone he broke yesterday,” said the +steward, “it is a pity, for he was a clever mat-platter. The old lord +hit softer.” + +“You ought to know!” cried a small voice, that sounded mockingly behind +the feasters. + +They looked and laughed when they recognized the strange guest, who had +approached them unobserved. + +The new comer was a deformed little man about as big as a five-year-old +boy, with a big head and oldish but uncommonly sharply-cut features. + +The noblest Egyptians kept house-dwarfs for sport, and this little wight +served the wife of Mena in this capacity. He was called Nemu, or “the +dwarf,” and his sharp tongue made him much feared, though he was +a favorite, for he passed for a very clever fellow and was a good +tale-teller. + +“Make room for me, my lords,” said the little man. “I take very little +room, and your beer and roast is in little danger from me, for my maw is +no bigger than a fly’s head.” + +“But your gall is as big as that of a Nile-horse,” cried the cook. + +“It grows,” said the dwarf laughing, “when a turn-spit and spoon-wielder +like you turns up. There--I will sit here.” + +“You are welcome,” said the steward, “what do you bring?” + +“Myself.” + +“Then you bring nothing great.” + +“Else I should not suit you either!” retorted the dwarf. “But seriously, +my lady mother, the noble Katuti, and the Regent, who just now is +visiting us, sent me here to ask you whether Paaker is not yet returned. +He accompanied the princess and Nefert to the City of the Dead, and the +ladies are not yet come in. We begin to be anxious, for it is already +late.” + +The steward looked up at the starry sky and said: “The moon is already +tolerably high, and my lord meant to be home before sun-down.” + +“The meal was ready,” sighed the cook. “I shall have to go to work again +if he does not remain all night.” + +“How should he?” asked the steward. “He is with the princess Bent-Anat.” + +“And my mistress,” added the dwarf. + +“What will they say to each other,” laughed gardener; “your chief +litter-bearer declared that yesterday on the way to the City of the Dead +they did not speak a word to each other.” + +“Can you blame the lord if he is angry with the lady who was betrothed +to him, and then was wed to another? When I think of the moment when he +learnt Nefert’s breach of faith I turn hot and cold.” + +“Care the less for that,” sneered the dwarf, “since you must be hot in +summer and cold in winter.” + +“It is not evening all day,” cried the head groom. “Paaker never forgets +an injury, and we shall live to see him pay Mena--high as he is--for the +affront he has offered him. + +“My lady Katuti,” interrupted Nemu, “stores up the arrears of her +son-in-law.” + +“Besides, she has long wished to renew the old friendship with your +house, and the Regent too preaches peace. Give me a piece of bread, +steward. I am hungry!” + +“The sacks, into which Mena’s arrears flow seem to be empty,” laughed +the cook. + +“Empty! empty! much like your wit!” answered the dwarf. “Give me a bit +of roast meat, steward; and you slaves bring me a drink of beer.” + +“You just now said your maw was no bigger than a fly’s head,” cried the +cook, “and now you devour meat like the crocodiles in the sacred tank of +Seeland. You must come from a world of upside-down, where the men are as +small as flies, and the flies as big as the giants of the past.” + +“Yet, I might be much bigger,” mumbled the dwarf while he munched on +unconcernedly, “perhaps as big as your spite which grudges me the +third bit of meat, which the steward--may Zefa bless him with great +possessions--is cutting out of the back of the antelope.” + +“There, take it, you glutton, but let out your girdle,” said the steward +laughing, “I had cut the slice for myself, and admire your sharp nose.” + +“All noses,” said the dwarf, “they teach the knowing better than any +haruspex what is inside a man.” + +“How is that?” cried the gardener. + +“Only try to display your wisdom,” laughed the steward; “for, if you +want to talk, you must at last leave off eating.” + +“The two may be combined,” said the dwarf. “Listen then! A hooked nose, +which I compare to a vulture’s beak, is never found together with a +submissive spirit. Think of the Pharaoh and all his haughty race. The +Regent, on the contrary, has a straight, well-shaped, medium-sized nose, +like the statue of Amon in the temple, and he is an upright soul, and as +good as the Gods. He is neither overbearing nor submissive beyond just +what is right; he holds neither with the great nor yet with the mean, +but with men of our stamp. There’s the king for us!” + +“A king of noses!” exclaimed the cook, “I prefer the eagle Rameses. But +what do you say to the nose of your mistress Nefert?” + +“It is delicate and slender and moves with every thought like the leaves +of flowers in a breath of wind, and her heart is exactly like it.” + +“And Paaker?” asked the head groom. + +“He has a large short nose with wide open nostrils. When Seth whirls up +the sand, and a grain of it flies up his nose, he waxes angry--so it +is Paaker’s nose, and that only, which is answerable for all your blue +bruises. His mother Setchem, the sister of my lady Katuti, has a little +roundish soft--” + +“You pigmy,” cried the steward interrupting the speaker, “we have fed +you and let you abuse people to your heart’s content, but if you wag +your sharp tongue against our mistress, I will take you by the girdle +and fling you to the sky, so that the stars may remain sticking to your +crooked hump.” + +At these words the dwarf rose, turned to go, and said indifferently: “I +would pick the stars carefully off my back, and send you the finest of +the planets in return for your juicy bit of roast. But here come the +chariots. Farewell! my lords, when the vulture’s beak seizes one of +you and carries you off to the war in Syria, remember the words of the +little Nemu who knows men and noses.” + +The pioneer’s chariot rattled through the high gates into the court of +his house, the dogs in their leashes howled joyfully, the head groom +hastened towards Paaker and took the reins in his charge, the steward +accompanied him, and the head cook retired into the kitchen to make +ready a fresh meal for his master. + +Before Paaker had reached the garden-gate, from the pylon of the +enormous temple of Amon, was heard first the far-sounding clang of +hard-struck plates of brass, and then the many-voiced chant of a solemn +hymn. + +The Mohar stood still, looked up to heaven, called to his servants--“The +divine star Sothis is risen!” threw himself on the earth, and lifted his +wards the star in prayer. + +The slaves and officers immediately followed his example. + +No circumstance in nature remained unobserved by the priestly guides of +the Egyptian people. Every phenomenon on earth or in the starry heavens +was greeted by them as the manifestation of a divinity, and they +surrounded the life of the inhabitants of the Nile-valley--from +morning to evening--from the beginning of the inundation to the days +of drought--with a web of chants and sacrifices, of processions and +festivals, which inseparably knit the human individual to the Divinity +and its earthly representatives the priesthood. + +For many minutes the lord and his servants remained on their knees in +silence, their eyes fixed on the sacred star, and listening to the pious +chant of the priests. + +As it died away Paaker rose. All around him still lay on the earth; +only one naked figure, strongly lighted by the clear moonlight, stood +motionless by a pillar near the slaves’ quarters. + +The pioneer gave a sign, the attendants rose; but Paaker went with hasty +steps to the man who had disdained the act of devotion, which he had so +earnestly performed, and cried: + +“Steward, a hundred strokes on the soles of the feet of this scoffer.” + +The officer thus addressed bowed and said: “My lord, the surgeon +commanded the mat-weaver not to move and he cannot lift his arm. He is +suffering great pain. Thou didst break his collar-bone yesterday. + +“It served him right!” said Paaker, raising his voice so much that the +injured man could not fail to hear it. Then he turned his back upon him, +and entered the garden; here he called the chief butler, and said: “Give +the slaves beer for their night draught--to all of them, and plenty.” + +A few minutes later he stood before his mother, whom he found on the +roof of the house, which was decorated with leafy plants, just as she +gave her two-years’-old grand daughter, the child of her youngest son, +into the arms of her nurse, that she might take her to bed. + +Paaker greeted the worthy matron with reverence. She was a woman of a +friendly, homely aspect; several little dogs were fawning at her feet. +Her son put aside the leaping favorites of the widow, whom they amused +through many long hours of loneliness, and turned to take the child in +his arms from those of the attendant. But the little one struggled with +such loud cries, and could not be pacified, that Paaker set it down on +the ground, and involuntarily exclaimed: + +“The naughty little thing!” + +“She has been sweet and good the whole afternoon,” said his mother +Setchem. “She sees you so seldom.” + +“May be,” replied Paaker; “still I know this--the dogs love me, but no +child will come to me.” + +“You have such hard hands.” + +“Take the squalling brat away,” said Paaker to the nurse. “Mother, I +want to speak to you.” + +Setchem quieted the child, gave it many kisses, and sent it to bed; then +she went up to her son, stroked his cheeks, and said: + +“If the little one were your own, she would go to you at once, and teach +you that a child is the greatest blessing which the Gods bestow on us +mortals.” Paaker smiled and said: “I know what you are aiming at--but +leave it for the present, for I have something important to communicate +to you.” + +“Well?” asked Setchem. + +“To-day for the first time since--you know when, I have spoken to +Nefert. The past may be forgotten. You long for your sister; go to her, +I have nothing more to say against it.” + +Setchem looked at her son with undisguised astonishment; her eyes which +easily filled with tears, now overflowed, and she hesitatingly asked: +“Can I believe my ears; child, have you?--” + +“I have a wish,” said Paaker firmly, “that you should knit once more the +old ties of affection with your relations; the estrangement has lasted +long enough.” + +“Much too long!” cried Setchem. + +The pioneer looked in silence at the ground, and obeyed his mother’s +sign to sit down beside her. + +“I knew,” she said, taking his hand, “that this day would bring us joy; +for I dreamt of your father in Osiris, and when I was being carried +to the temple, I was met, first by a white cow, and then by a wedding +procession. The white ram of Anion, too, touched the wheat-cakes that +I offered him.”--[It boded death to Germanicus when the Apis refused to +eat out of his hand.] + +“Those are lucky presages,” said Paaker in a tone of conviction. + +“And let us hasten to seize with gratitude that which the Gods set +before us,” cried Setchem with joyful emotion. “I will go to-morrow to +my sister and tell her that we shall live together in our old affection, +and share both good and evil; we are both of the same race, and I know +that, as order and cleanliness preserve a house from ruin and rejoice +the stranger, so nothing but unity can keep up the happiness of the +family and its appearance before people. What is bygone is bygone, and +let it be forgotten. There are many women in Thebes besides Nefert, and +a hundred nobles in the land would esteem themselves happy to win you +for a son-in-law.” + +Paaker rose, and began thoughtfully pacing the broad space, while +Setchem went on speaking. + +“I know,” she said, “that I have touched a wound in thy heart; but it +is already closing, and it will heal when you are happier even than the +charioteer Mena, and need no longer hate him. Nefert is good, but she +is delicate and not clever, and scarcely equal to the management of +so large a household as ours. Ere long I too shall be wrapped in +mummy-cloths, and then if duty calls you into Syria some prudent +housewife must take my place. It is no small matter. Your grandfather +Assa often would say that a house well-conducted in every detail was +a mark of a family owning an unspotted name, and living with wise +liberality and secure solidity, in which each had his assigned place, +his allotted duty to fulfil, and his fixed rights to demand. How often +have I prayed to the Hathors that they may send you a wife after my own +heart.” + +“A Setchem I shall never find!” said Paaker kissing his mother’s +forehead, “women of your sort are dying out.” + +“Flatterer!” laughed Setchem, shaking her finger at her son. But it is +true. Those who are now growing up dress and smarten themselves with +stuffs from Kaft,--[Phoenicia]--mix their language with Syrian words, +and leave the steward and housekeeper free when they themselves ought to +command. Even my sister Katuti, and Nefert-- + +“Nefert is different from other women,” interrupted Paaker, “and if you +had brought her up she would know how to manage a house as well as how +to ornament it.” + +Setchem looked at her son in surprise; then she said, half to herself: +“Yes, yes, she is a sweet child; it is impossible for any one to be +angry with her who looks into her eyes. And yet I was cruel to her +because you were hurt by her, and because--but you know. But now you +have forgiven, I forgive her, willingly, her and her husband.” + +Paaker’s brow clouded, and while he paused in front of his mother he +said with all the peculiar harshness of his voice: + +“He shall pine away in the desert, and the hyaenas of the North shall +tear his unburied corpse.” + +At these words Setchem covered her face with her veil, and clasped her +hands tightly over the amulets hanging round her neck. Then she said +softly: + +“How terrible you can be! I know well that you hate the charioteer, +for I have seen the seven arrows over your couch over which is written +‘Death to Mena.’ + +“That is a Syrian charm which a man turns against any one whom he +desires to destroy. How black you look! Yes, it is a charm that is +hateful to the Gods, and that gives the evil one power over him that +uses it. Leave it to them to punish the criminal, for Osiris withdraws +his favor from those who choose the fiend for their ally.” + +“My sacrifices,” replied Paaker, “secure me the favor of the Gods; but +Mena behaved to me like a vile robber, and I only return to him the evil +that belongs to him. Enough of this! and if you love me, never again +utter the name of my enemy before me. I have forgiven Nefert and her +mother--that may satisfy you.” + +Setchem shook her head, and said: “What will it lead to! The war cannot +last for ever, and if Mena returns the reconciliation of to-day will +turn to all the more bitter enmity. I see only one remedy. Follow my +advice, and let me find you a wife worthy of you.” + +“Not now!” exclaimed Paaker impatiently. “In a few days I must go again +into the enemy’s country, and do not wish to leave my wife, like +Mena, to lead the life of a widow during my existence. Why urge it? my +brother’s wife and children are with you--that might satisfy you.” + +“The Gods know how I love them,” answered Setchem; “but your brother +Horns is the younger, and you the elder, to whom the inheritance +belongs. Your little niece is a delightful plaything, but in your son I +should see at once the future stay of our race, the future head of the +family; brought up to my mind and your father’s; for all is sacred to +me that my dead husband wished. He rejoiced in your early betrothal to +Nefert, and hoped that a son of his eldest son should continue the race +of Assa.” + +“It shall be by no fault of mine that any wish of his remains +unfulfilled. The stars are high, mother; sleep well, and if to-morrow +you visit Nefert and your sister, say to them that the doors of my house +are open to them. But stay! Katuti’s steward has offered to sell a herd +of cattle to ours, although the stock on Mena’s land can be but small. +What does this mean?” + +“You know my sister,” replied Setchem. “She manages Mena’s possessions, +has many requirements, tries to vie with the greatest in splendor, sees +the governor often in her house, her son is no doubt extravagant--and so +the most necessary things may often be wanting.” + +Paaker shrugged his shoulders, once more embraced his mother and left +her. + +Soon after, he was standing in the spacious room in which he was +accustomed to sit and to sleep when he was in Thebes. The walls of this +room were whitewashed and decorated with pious glyphic writing, which +framed in the door and the windows opening into the garden. + +In the middle of the farther wall was a couch in the form of a lion. The +upper end of it imitated a lion’s head, and the foot, its curling tail; +a finely dressed lion’s skin was spread over the bell, and a headrest of +ebony, decorated with pious texts, stood on a high foot-step, ready for +the sleeper. + +Above the bed various costly weapons and whips were elegantly displayed, +and below them the seven arrows over which Setchem had read the words +“Death to Mena.” They were written across a sentence which enjoined +feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, and clothing the naked; +with loving-kindness, alike to the great and the humble. + +A niche by the side of the bed-head was closed with a curtain of purple +stuff. + +In each corner of the room stood a statue; three of them symbolized the +triad of Thebes-Anion, Muth, and Chunsu--and the fourth the dead father +of the pioneer. In front of each was a small altar for offerings, with +a hollow in it, in which was an odoriferous essence. On a wooden stand +were little images of the Gods and amulets in great number, and in +several painted chests lay the clothes, the ornaments and the papers +of the master. In the midst of the chamber stood a table and several +stool-shaped seats. + +When Paaker entered the room he found it lighted with lamps, and a large +dog sprang joyfully to meet him. He let him spring upon him, threw him +to the ground, let him once more rush upon him, and then kissed his +clever head. + +Before his bed an old negro of powerful build lay in deep sleep. Paaker +shoved him with his foot and called to him as he awoke-- + +“I am hungry.” + +The grey-headed black man rose slowly, and left the room. + +As soon as he was alone Paaker drew the philter from his girdle, looked +at it tenderly, and put it in a box, in which there were several flasks +of holy oils for sacrifice. He was accustomed every evening to fill the +hollows in the altars with fresh essences, and to prostrate himself in +prayer before the images of the Gods. To-day he stood before the +statue of his father, kissed its feet, and murmured: “Thy will shall be +done.--The woman whom thou didst intend for me shall indeed be mine--thy +eldest son’s.” + +Then he walked to and fro and thought over the events of the day. + +At last he stood still, with his arms crossed, and looked defiantly at +the holy images; like a traveller who drives away a false guide, and +thinks to find the road by himself. + +His eye fell on the arrows over his bed; he smiled, and striking his +broad breast with his fist, he exclaimed, “I--I--I--” + +His hound, who thought his master meant to call him, rushed up to him. +He pushed him off and said--“If you meet a hyaena in the desert, you +fall upon it without waiting till it is touched by my lance--and if the +Gods, my masters, delay, I myself will defend my right; but thou,” he +continued turning to the image of his father, “thou wilt support me.” + +This soliloquy was interrupted by the slaves who brought in his meal. + +Paaker glanced at the various dishes which the cook had prepared for +him, and asked: “How often shall I command that not a variety, but only +one large dish shall be dressed for me? And the wine?” + +“Thou art used never to touch it?” answered the old negro. + +“But to-day I wish for some,” said the pioneer. “Bring one of the old +jars of red wine of Kakem.” + +The slaves looked at each other in astonishment; the wine was brought, +and Paaker emptied beaker after beaker. When the servants had left him, +the boldest among them said: “Usually the master eats like a lion, and +drinks like a midge, but to-day--” + +“Hold your tongue!” cried his companion, “and come into the court, for +Paaker has sent us out beer. The Hathors must have met him.” + +The occurrences of the day must indeed have taken deep hold on the +inmost soul of the pioneer; for he, the most sober of all the warriors +of Rameses, to whom intoxication was unknown, and who avoided the +banquets of his associates--now sat at the midnight hours, alone at his +table, and toped till his weary head grew heavy. + +He collected himself, went towards his couch and drew the curtain which +concealed the niche at the head of the bed. A female figure, with +the head-dress and attributes of the Goddess Hathor, made of painted +limestone, revealed itself. + +Her countenance had the features of the wife of Mena. + +The king, four years since, had ordered a sculptor to execute a sacred +image with the lovely features of the newly-married bride of his +charioteer, and Paaker had succeeded in having a duplicate made. + +He now knelt down on the couch, gazed on the image with moist eyes, +looked cautiously around to see if he was alone, leaned forward, pressed +a kiss to the delicate, cold stone lips; laid down and went to sleep +without undressing himself, and leaving the lamps to burn themselves +out. + +Restless dreams disturbed his spirit, and when the dawn grew grey, he +screamed out, tormented by a hideous vision, so pitifully, that the old +negro, who had laid himself near the dog at the foot of his bed, sprang +up alarmed, and while the dog howled, called him by his name to wake +him. + +Paaker awoke with a dull head-ache. The vision which had tormented him +stood vividly before his mind, and he endeavored to retain it that he +might summon a haruspex to interpret it. After the morbid fancies of the +preceding evening he felt sad and depressed. + +The morning-hymn rang into his room with a warning voice from the temple +of Amon; he cast off evil thoughts, and resolved once more to resign the +conduct of his fate to the Gods, and to renounce all the arts of magic. + +As he was accustomed, he got into the bath that was ready for him. While +splashing in the tepid water he thought with ever increasing eagerness +of Nefert and of the philter which at first he had meant not to offer to +her, but which actually was given to her by his hand, and which might by +this time have begun to exercise its charm. + +Love placed rosy pictures--hatred set blood-red images before his eyes. +He strove to free himself from the temptations, which more and more +tightly closed in upon him, but it was with him as with a man who has +fallen into a bog, who, the more vehemently he tries to escape from the +mire, sinks the deeper. + +As the sun rose, so rose his vital energy and his self-confidence, and +when he prepared to quit his dwelling, in his most costly clothing, he +had arrived once more at the decision of the night before, and had again +resolved to fight for his purpose, without--and if need were--against +the Gods. + +The Mohar had chosen his road, and he never turned back when once he had +begun a journey. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +It was noon: the rays of the sun found no way into the narrow shady +streets of the city of Thebes, but they blazed with scorching heat on +the broad dyke-road which led to the king’s castle, and which at this +hour was usually almost deserted. + +To-day it was thronged with foot-passengers and chariots, with riders +and litter-bearers. + +Here and there negroes poured water on the road out of skins, but the +dust was so deep, that, in spite of this, it shrouded the streets and +the passengers in a dry cloud, which extended not only over the city, +but down to the harbor where the boats of the inhabitants of the +Necropolis landed their freight. + +The city of the Pharaohs was in unwonted agitation, for the storm-swift +breath of rumor had spread some news which excited both alarm and hope +in the huts of the poor as well as in the palaces of the great. + +In the early morning three mounted messengers had arrived from the +king’s camp with heavy letter-bags, and had dismounted at the Regent’s +palace. + + [The Egyptians were great letter-writers, and many of their letters + have come down to us, they also had established postmen, and had a + word for them in their language “fai chat.”] + +As after a long drought the inhabitants of a village gaze up at the +black thunder-cloud that gathers above their heads promising the +refreshing rain--but that may also send the kindling lightning-flash or +the destroying hail-storm--so the hopes and the fears of the citizens +were centred on the news which came but rarely and at irregular +intervals from the scene of war; for there was scarcely a house in +the huge city which had not sent a father, a son, or a relative to the +fighting hosts of the king in the distant northeast. + +And though the couriers from the camp were much oftener the heralds of +tears than of joy; though the written rolls which they brought told more +often of death and wounds than of promotion, royal favors, and conquered +spoil, yet they were expected with soul-felt longing and received with +shouts of joy. + +Great and small hurried after their arrival to the Regent’s palace, and +the scribes--who distributed the letters and read the news which was +intended for public communication, and the lists of those who had fallen +or perished--were closely besieged with enquirers. + +Man has nothing harder to endure than uncertainty, and generally, when +in suspense, looks forward to bad rather than to good news. And the +bearers of ill ride faster than the messengers of weal. + +The Regent Ani resided in a building adjoining the king’s palace. His +business-quarters surrounded an immensely wide court, and consisted of +a great number of rooms opening on to this court, in which numerous +scribes worked with their chief. On the farther side was a large, +veranda-like hall open at the front, with a roof supported by pillars. + +Here Ani was accustomed to hold courts of justice, and to receive +officers, messengers, and petitioners. To-day he sat, visible to all +comers, on a costly throne in this hall, surrounded by his numerous +followers, and overlooking the crowd of people whom the guardians of the +peace guided with long staves, admitting them in troops into the court +of the “High Gate,” and then again conducting them out. + +What he saw and heard was nothing joyful, for from each group +surrounding a scribe arose a cry of woe. Few and far between were those +who had to tell of the rich booty that had fallen to their friends. + +An invisible web woven of wailing and tears seemed to envelope the +assembly. + +Here men were lamenting and casting dust upon their heads, there women +were rending their clothes, shrieking loudly, and crying as they waved +their veils “oh, my husband! oh, my father! oh, my brother!” + +Parents who had received the news of the death of their son fell on each +other’s neck weeping; old men plucked out their grey hair and beard; +young women beat their forehead and breast, or implored the scribes +who read out the lists to let them see for themselves the name of the +beloved one who was for ever torn from them. + +The passionate stirring of a soul, whether it be the result of joy or of +sorrow, among us moderns covers its features with a veil, which it had +no need of among the ancients. + +Where the loudest laments sounded, a restless little being might be seen +hurrying from group to group; it was Nemu, Katuti’s dwarf, whom we know. + +Now he stood near a woman of the better class, dissolved in tears +because her husband had fallen in the last battle. + +“Can you read?” he asked her; “up there on the architrave is the name +of Rameses, with all his titles. Dispenser of life,’ he is called. Aye +indeed; he can create--widows; for he has all the husbands killed.” + +Before the astonished woman could reply, he stood by a man sunk in woe, +and pulling his robe, said “Finer fellows than your son have never been +seen in Thebes. Let your youngest starve, or beat him to a cripple, +else he also will be dragged off to Syria; for Rameses needs much good +Egyptian meat for the Syrian vultures.” + +The old man, who had hitherto stood there in silent despair, clenched +his fist. The dwarf pointed to the Regent, and said: “If he there +wielded the sceptre, there would be fewer orphans and beggars by the +Nile. To-day its sacred waters are still sweet, but soon it will taste +as salt as the north sea with all the tears that have been shed on its +banks.” + +It almost seemed as if the Regent had heard these words, for he rose +from his seat and lifted his hands like a man who is lamenting. + +Many of the bystanders observed this action; and loud cries of anguish +filled the wide courtyard, which was soon cleared by soldiers to make +room for other troops of people who were thronging in. + +While these gathered round the scribes, the Regent Ani sat with quiet +dignity on the throne, surrounded by his suite and his secretaries, and +held audiences. + +He was a man at the close of his fortieth year and the favorite cousin +of the king. + +Rameses I., the grandfather of the reigning monarch, had deposed the +legitimate royal family, and usurped the sceptre of the Pharaohs. He +descended from a Semitic race who had remained in Egypt at the time of +the expulsion of the Hyksos, + + [These were an eastern race who migrated from Asia into Egypt, + conquered the lower Nile-valley, and ruled over it for nearly 500 + years, till they were driven out by the successors of the old + legitimate Pharaohs, whose dominion had been confined to upper + Egypt.] + +and had distinguished itself by warlike talents under Thotmes and +Amenophis. After his death he was succeeded by his son Seti, who +sought to earn a legitimate claim to the throne by marrying Tuaa, the +grand-daughter of Amenophis III. She presented him with an only son, +whom he named after his father Rameses. This prince might lay claim to +perfect legitimacy through his mother, who descended directly from the +old house of sovereigns; for in Egypt a noble family--even that of the +Pharaohs--might be perpetuated through women. + +Seti proclaimed Rameses partner of his throne, so as to remove all doubt +as to the validity of his position. The young nephew of his wife Tuaa, +the Regent Ani, who was a few years younger than Rameses, he caused to +be brought up in the House of Seti, and treated him like his own son, +while the other members of the dethroned royal family were robbed of +their possessions or removed altogether. + +Ani proved himself a faithful servant to Seti, and to his son, and was +trusted as a brother by the warlike and magnanimous Rameses, who however +never disguised from himself the fact that the blood in his own veins +was less purely royal than that which flowed in his cousin’s. + +It was required of the race of the Pharaohs of Egypt that it should be +descended from the Sun-god Ra, and the Pharaoh could boast of this high +descent only through his mother--Ani through both parents. + +But Rameses sat on the throne, held the sceptre with a strong hand, and +thirteen young sons promised to his house the lordship over Egypt to all +eternity. + +When, after the death of his warlike father, he went to fresh conquests +in the north, he appointed Ani, who had proved himself worthy as +governor of the province of Kush, to the regency of the kingdom. + +A vehement character often over estimates the man who is endowed with +a quieter temperament, into whose nature he cannot throw himself, and +whose excellences he is unable to imitate; so it happened that the +deliberate and passionless nature of his cousin impressed the fiery and +warlike Rameses. + +Ani appeared to be devoid of ambition, or the spirit of enterprise; he +accepted the dignity that was laid upon him with apparent reluctance, +and seemed a particularly safe person, because he had lost both wife and +child, and could boast of no heir. + +He was a man of more than middle height; his features were remarkably +regular--even beautifully, cut, but smooth and with little expression. +His clear blue eyes and thin lips gave no evidence of the emotions that +filled his heart; on the contrary, his countenance wore a soft smile +that could adapt itself to haughtiness, to humility, and to a variety of +shades of feeling, but which could never be entirely banished from his +face. + +He had listened with affable condescension to the complaint of a landed +proprietor, whose cattle had been driven off for the king’s army, and +had promised that his case should be enquired into. The plundered man +was leaving full of hope; but when the scribe who sat at the feet of the +Regent enquired to whom the investigation of this encroachment of the +troops should be entrusted, Ani said: “Each one must bring a victim to +the war; it must remain among the things that are done, and cannot be +undone.” + +The Nomarch--[Chief of a Nome or district.]--of Suan, in the southern +part of the country, asked for funds for a necessary, new embankment. +The Regent listened to his eager representation with benevolence, nay +with expressions of sympathy; but assured him that the war absorbed +all the funds of the state, that the chests were empty; still he felt +inclined--even if they had not failed--to sacrifice a part of his own +income to preserve the endangered arable land of his faithful province +of Suan, to which he desired greeting. + +As soon as the Nomarch had left him, he commanded that a considerable +sum should be taken out of the Treasury, and sent after the petitioner. + +From time to time in the middle of conversation, he arose, and made a +gesture of lamentation, to show to the assembled mourners in the court +that he sympathized in the losses which had fallen on them. + +The sun had already passed the meridian, when a disturbance, accompanied +by loud cries, took possession of the masses of people, who stood round +the scribes in the palace court. + +Many men and women were streaming together towards one spot, and even +the most impassive of the Thebans present turned their attention to an +incident so unusual in this place. + +A detachment of constabulary made a way through the crushing and yelling +mob, and another division of Lybian police led a prisoner towards a side +gate of the court. Before they could reach it, a messenger came up with +them, from the Regent, who desired to be informed as to what happened. + +The head of the officers of public safety followed him, and with eager +excitement informed Ani, who was waiting for him, that a tiny man, the +dwarf of the Lady Katuti, had for several hours been going about in +the court, and endeavoring to poison the minds of the citizens with +seditious speeches. + +Ani ordered that the misguided man should be thrown into the dungeon; +but so soon as the chief officer had left him, he commanded his +secretary to have the dwarf brought into his presence before sundown. + +While he was giving this order an excitement of another kind seized the +assembled multitude. + +As the sea parted and stood on the right hand and on the left of the +Hebrews, so that no wave wetted the foot of the pursued fugitives, +so the crowd of people of their own free will, but as if in reverent +submission to some high command, parted and formed a broad way, through +which walked the high-priest of the House of Seti, as, full robed and +accompanied by some of the “holy fathers,” he now entered the court. + +The Regent went to meet him, bowed before him, and then withdrew to the +back of the hall with him alone. “It is nevertheless incredible,” said +Ameni, “that our serfs are to follow the militia!” + +“Rameses requires soldiers--to conquer,” replied the Regent. + +“And we bread--to live,” exclaimed the priest. + +“Nevertheless I am commanded, at once, before the seed-time, to levy +the temple-serfs. I regret the order, but the king is the will, and I am +only the hand.” + +“The hand, which he makes use of to sequester ancient rights, and to +open a way to the desert over the fruitful land.” + + [“With good management,” said the first Napoleon, “the Nile + encroaches upon the desert, with bad management the desert + encroaches upon the Nile.”] + +“Your acres will not long remain unprovided for. Rameses will win new +victories with the increased army, and the help of the Gods.” + +“The Gods! whom he insults!” + +“After the conclusion of peace he will reconcile the Gods by doubly rich +gifts. He hopes confidently for an early end to the war, and writes to +me that after the next battle he wins he intends to offer terms to the +Cheta. A plan of the king’s is also spoken of--to marry again, and, +indeed, the daughter of the Cheta King Chetasar.” + +Up to this moment the Regent had kept his eyes cast down. Now he raised +them, smiling, as if he would fain enjoy Ameni’s satisfaction, and +asked: + +“What dost thou say to this project?” + +“I say,” returned Ameni, and his voice, usually so stern, took a tone +of amusement, “I say that Rameses seems to think that the blood of thy +cousin and of his mother, which gives him his right to the throne, is +incapable of pollution.” + +“It is the blood of the Sun-god!” + +“Which runs but half pure in his veins, but wholly pure in thine.” + +The Regent made a deprecatory gesture, and said softly, with a smile +which resembled that of a dead man: + +“We are not alone.” + +“No one is here,” said Ameni, “who can hear us; and what I say is known +to every child.” + +“But if it came to the king’s ears--” whispered Ani, “he--” + +“He would perceive how unwise it is to derogate from the ancient rights +of those on whom it is incumbent to prove the purity of blood of the +sovereign of this land. However, Rameses sits on the throne; may life +bloom for him, with health and strength!”--[A formula which even in +private letters constantly follows the name of the Pharaoh.] + +The Regent bowed, and then asked: + +“Do you propose to obey the demand of the Pharaoh without delay?” + +“He is the king. Our council, which will meet in a few days, can only +determine how, and not whether we shall fulfil his command.” + +“You will retard the departure of the serfs, and Rameses requires them +at once. The bloody labor of the war demands new tools.” + +“And the peace will perhaps demand a new master, who understands how to +employ the sons of the land to its greatest advantage--a genuine son of +Ra.” + +The Regent stood opposite the high-priest, motionless as an image cast +in bronze, and remained silent; but Ameni lowered his staff before him +as before a god, and then went into the fore part of the hall. + +When Ani followed him, a soft smile played as usual upon his +countenance, and full of dignity he took his seat on the throne. + +“Art thou at an end of thy communications?” he asked the high-priest. + +“It remains for me to inform you all,” replied Ameni with a louder +voice, to be heard by all the assembled dignitaries, “that the princess +Bent-Anat yesterday morning committed a heavy sin, and that in all the +temples in the land the Gods shall be entreated with offerings to take +her uncleanness from her.” + +Again a shadow passed over the smile on the Regent’s countenance. He +looked meditatively on the ground, and then said: + +“To-morrow I will visit the House of Seti; till then I beg that this +affair may be left to rest.” + +Ameni bowed, and the Regent left the hall to withdraw to a wing of the +king’s palace, in which he dwelt. + +On his writing-table lay sealed papers. He knew that they contained +important news for him; but he loved to do violence to his curiosity, to +test his resolution, and like an epicure to reserve the best dish till +the last. + +He now glanced first at some unimportant letters. A dumb negro, who +squatted at his feet, burned the papyrus rolls which his master gave him +in a brazier. A secretary made notes of the short facts which Ani called +out to him, and the ground work was laid of the answers to the different +letters. + +At a sign from his master this functionary quitted the room, and Ani +then slowly opened a letter from the king, whose address: “To my brother +Ani,” showed that it contained, not public, but private information. + +On these lines, as he well knew, hung his future life, and the road it +should follow. + +With a smile, that was meant to conceal even from himself his deep +inward agitation, he broke the wax which sealed the short manuscript in +the royal hand. + +“What relates to Egypt, and my concern for my country, and the happy +issue of the war,” wrote the Pharaoh, “I have written to you by the hand +of my secretary; but these words are for the brother, who desires to be +my son, and I write to him myself. The lordly essence of the Divinity +which dwells in me, readily brings a quick ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ to my lips, and +it decides for the best. Now you demand my daughter Bent-Anat to wife, +and I should not be Rameses if I did not freely confess that before I +had read the last words of your letter, a vehement ‘No’ rushed to +my lips. I caused the stars to be consulted, and the entrails of the +victims to be examined, and they were adverse to your request; and yet I +could not refuse you, for you are dear to me, and your blood is royal as +my own. Even more royal, an old friend said, and warned me against your +ambition and your exaltation. Then my heart changed, for I were +not Seti’s son if I allow myself to injure a friend through idle +apprehensions; and he who stands so high that men fear that he may try +to rise above Rameses, seems to me to be worthy of Bent-Anat. Woo her, +and, should she consent freely, the marriage may be celebrated on the +day when I return home. You are young enough to make a wife happy, and +your mature wisdom will guard my child from misfortune. Bent-Anat shall +know that her father, and king, encourages your suit; but pray too to +the Hathors, that they may influence Bent-Anat’s heart in your favor, +for to her decision we must both submit.” + +The Regent had changed color several times while reading this letter. +Now he laid it on the table with a shrug of his shoulders, stood up, +clasped his hand behind him, and, with his eyes cast meditatively on the +floor, leaned against one of the pillars which supported the beams of +the roof. + +The longer he thought, the less amiable his expression became. “A pill +sweetened with honey, + + [Two recipes for pills are found in the papyri, one with honey for + women, and one without for men.] + +such as they give to women,” he muttered to himself. Then he went back +to the table, read the king’s letter through once more, and said: “One +may learn from it how to deny by granting, and at the same time not to +forget to give it a brilliant show of magnanimity. Rameses knows his +daughter. She is a girl like any other, and will take good care not +to choose a man twice as old as herself, and who might be her father. +Rameses will ‘submit’--I am to I submit!’ And to what? to the judgment +and the choice of a wilful child!” + +With these words he threw the letter so vehemently on to the table, that +it slipped off on to the floor. + +The mute slave picked it up, and laid it carefully on the table again, +while his master threw a ball into a silver bason. + +Several attendants rushed into the room, and Ani ordered them to +bring to him the captive dwarf of the Lady Katuti. His soul rose in +indignation against the king, who in his remote camp-tent could fancy he +had made him happy by a proof of his highest favor. When we are plotting +against a man we are inclined to regard him as an enemy, and if he +offers us a rose we believe it to be for the sake, not of the perfume, +but of the thorns. + +The dwarf Nemu was brought before the Regent and threw himself on the +ground at his feet. + +Ani ordered the attendants to leave him, and said to the little man + +“You compelled me to put you in prison. Stand up!” The dwarf rose and +said, “Be thanked--for my arrest too.” + +The Regent looked at him in astonishment; but Nemu went on half humbly, +half in fun, “I feared for my life, but thou hast not only not shortened +it, but hast prolonged it; for in the solitude of the dungeon time +seemed long, and the minutes grown to hours.” + +“Keep your wit for the ladies,” replied the Regent. “Did I not know that +you meant well, and acted in accordance with the Lady Katuti’s fancy, I +would send you to the quarries.” + +“My hands,” mumbled the dwarf, “could only break stones for a game of +draughts; but my tongue is like the water, which makes one peasant rich, +and carries away the fields of another.” + +“We shall know how to dam it up.” + +“For my lady and for thee it will always flow the right way,” said the +dwarf. “I showed the complaining citizens who it is that slaughters +their flesh and blood, and from whom to look for peace and content. I +poured caustic into their wounds, and praised the physician.” + +“But unasked and recklessly,” interrupted Ani; “otherwise you have shown +yourself capable, and I am willing to spare you for a future time. But +overbusy friends are more damaging than intelligent enemies. When I need +your services I will call for you. Till then avoid speech. Now go to +your mistress, and carry to Katuti this letter which has arrived for +her.” + +“Hail to Ani, the son of the Sun!” cried the dwarf kissing the Regent’s +foot. “Have I no letter to carry to my mistress Nefert?” + +“Greet her from me,” replied the Regent. “Tell Katuti I will visit her +after the next meal. The king’s charioteer has not written, yet I hear +that he is well. Go now, and be silent and discreet.” + +The dwarf quitted the room, and Ani went into an airy hall, in which +his luxurious meal was laid out, consisting of many dishes prepared with +special care. His appetite was gone, but he tasted of every dish, and +gave the steward, who attended on him, his opinion of each. + +Meanwhile he thought of the king’s letter, of Bent-Anat, and whether it +would be advisable to expose himself to a rejection on her part. + +After the meal he gave himself up to his body-servant, who carefully +shaved, painted, dressed, and decorated him, and then held the mirror +before him. + +He considered the reflection with anxious observation, and when he +seated himself in his litter to be borne to the house of his friend +Katuti, he said to himself that he still might claim to be called a +handsome man. + +If he paid his court to Bent-Anat--if she listened to his suit--what +then? + +He would refer it to Katuti, who always knew how to say a decisive word +when he, entangled in a hundred pros and cons, feared to venture on a +final step. + +By her advice he had sought to wed the princess, as a fresh mark of +honor--as an addition to his revenues--as a pledge for his personal +safety. His heart had never been more or less attached to her than to +any other beautiful woman in Egypt. Now her proud and noble personality +stood before his inward eye, and he felt as if he must look up to it +as to a vision high out of his reach. It vexed him that he had followed +Katuti’s advice, and he began to wish his suit had been repulsed. +Marriage with Bent-Anat seemed to him beset with difficulties. His mood +was that of a man who craves some brilliant position, though he knows +that its requirements are beyond his powers--that of an ambitious soul +to whom kingly honors are offered on condition that he will never remove +a heavy crown from his head. If indeed another plan should succeed, +if--and his eyes flashed eagerly--if fate set him on the seat of +Rameses, then the alliance with Bent-Anat would lose its terrors; there +would he be her absolute King and Lord and Master, and no one could +require him to account for what he might be to her, or vouchsafe to her. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +During the events we have described the house of the charioteer Mena had +not remained free from visitors. + +It resembled the neighboring estate of Paaker, though the buildings +were less new, the gay paint on the pillars and walls was faded, and +the large garden lacked careful attention. In the vicinity of the house +only, a few well-kept beds blazed with splendid flowers, and the open +colonnade, which was occupied by Katuti and her daughter, was furnished +with royal magnificence. + +The elegantly carved seats were made of ivory, the tables of ebony, and +they, as well as the couches, had gilt feet. The artistically worked +Syrian drinking vessels on the sideboard, tables, and consoles were +of many forms; beautiful vases full of flowers stood everywhere; rare +perfumes rose from alabaster cups, and the foot sank in the thick pile +of the carpets which covered the floor. + +And over the apparently careless arrangement of these various objects +there reigned a peculiar charm, an indescribably fascinating something. + +Stretched at full-length on a couch, and playing with a +silky-haired white cat, lay the fair Nefert--fanned to coolness by a +negro-girl--while her mother Katuti nodded a last farewell to her sister +Setchem and to Paaker. + +Both had crossed this threshold for the first time for four years, that +is since the marriage of Mena with Nefert, and the old enmity seemed now +to have given way to heartfelt reconciliation and mutual understanding. + +After the pioneer and his mother had disappeared behind the pomegranate +shrubs at the entrance of the garden, Katuti turned to her daughter and +said: + +“Who would have thought it yesterday? I believe Paaker loves you still.” + +Nefert colored, and exclaimed softly, while she hit the kitten gently +with her fan-- + +“Mother!” + +Katuti smiled. + +She was a tall woman of noble demeanor, whose sharp but delicately-cut +features and sparkling eyes could still assert some pretensions to +feminine beauty. She wore a long robe, which reached below her +ankles; it was of costly material, but dark in color, and of a studied +simplicity. Instead of the ornaments in bracelets, anklets, ear and +finger-rings, in necklaces and clasps, which most of the Egyptian +ladies--and indeed her own sister and daughter--were accustomed to wear, +she had only fresh flowers, which were never wanting in the garden +of her son-in-law. Only a plain gold diadem, the badge of her royal +descent, always rested, from early morning till late at night, on her +high brow--for a woman too high, though nobly formed--and confined the +long blue-black hair, which fell unbraided down her back, as if its +owner contemned the vain labor of arranging it artistically. But nothing +in her exterior was unpremeditated, and the unbejewelled wearer of the +diadem, in her plain dress, and with her royal figure, was everywhere +sure of being observed, and of finding imitators of her dress, and +indeed of her demeanor. + +And yet Katuti had long lived in need; aye at the very hour when we +first make her acquaintance, she had little of her own, but lived on the +estate of her son-in-law as his guest, and as the administrator of his +possessions; and before the marriage of her daughter she had lived with +her children in a house belonging to her sister Setchem. + +She had been the wife of her own brother, + + [Marriages between brothers and sisters were allowed in ancient + Egypt. The Ptolemaic princes adopted this, which was contrary to + the Macedonian customs. When Ptolemy II. Philadelphus married his + sister Arsinoe, it seems to have been thought necessary to excuse it + by the relative positions of Venus and Saturn at that period, and + the constraining influences of these planets.] + +who had died young, and who had squandered the greatest part of the +possessions which had been left to him by the new royal family, in an +extravagant love of display. + +When she became a widow, she was received as a sister with her children +by her brother-in-law, Paaker’s father. She lived in a house of her own, +enjoyed the income of an estate assigned to her by the old Mohar, and +left to her son-in-law the care of educating her son, a handsome and +overbearing lad, with all the claims and pretensions of a youth of +distinction. + +Such great benefits would have oppressed and disgraced the proud Katuti, +if she had been content with them and in every way agreed with the +giver. But this was by no means the case; rather, she believed that she +might pretend to a more brilliant outward position, felt herself hurt +when her heedless son, while he attended school, was warned to work more +seriously, as he would by and by have to rely on his own skill and +his own strength. And it had wounded her when occasionally her +brother-in-law had suggested economy, and had reminded her, in his +straightforward way, of her narrow means, and the uncertain future of +her children. + +At this she was deeply offended, for she ventured to say that her +relatives could never, with all their gifts, compensate for the insults +they heaped upon her; and thus taught them by experience that we quarrel +with no one more readily than with the benefactor whom we can never +repay for all the good he bestows on us. + +Nevertheless, when her brother-in-law asked the hand of her daughter for +his son, she willingly gave her consent. + +Nefert and Paaker had grown up together, and by this union she foresaw +that she could secure her own future and that of her children. + +Shortly after the death of the Mohar, the charioteer Mena had proposed +for Nefert’s hand, but would have been refused if the king himself had +not supported the suit of his favorite officer. After the wedding, she +retired with Nefert to Mena’s house, and undertook, while he was at +the war, to manage his great estates, which however had been greatly +burthened with debt by his father. + +Fate put the means into her hands of indemnifying herself and her +children for many past privations, and she availed herself of them +to gratify her innate desire to be esteemed and admired; to obtain +admission for her son, splendidly equipped, into a company of +chariot-warriors of the highest class; and to surround her daughter with +princely magnificence. + +When the Regent, who had been a friend of her late husband, removed into +the palace of the Pharaohs, he made her advances, and the clever and +decided woman knew how to make herself at first agreeable, and finally +indispensable, to the vacillating man. + +She availed herself of the circumstance that she, as well as he, was +descended from the old royal house to pique his ambition, and to open to +him a view, which even to think of, he would have considered forbidden +as a crime, before he became intimate with her. + +Ani’s suit for the hand of the princess Bent-Anat was Katuti’s work. She +hoped that the Pharoah would refuse, and personally offend the Regent, +and so make him more inclined to tread the dangerous road which she was +endeavoring to smooth for him. The dwarf Nemu was her pliant tool. + +She had not initiated him into her projects by any words; he however +gave utterance to every impulse of her mind in free language, which was +punished only with blows from a fan, and, only the day before, had been +so audacious as to say that if the Pharoah were called Ani instead of +Rameses, Katuti would be not a queen but a goddess for she would then +have not to obey, but rather to guide, the Pharaoh, who indeed himself +was related to the Immortals. + +Katuti did not observe her daughter’s blush, for she was looking +anxiously out at the garden gate, and said: + +“Where can Nemu be! There must be some news arrived for us from the +army.” + +“Mena has not written for so long,” Nefert said softly. “Ah! here is the +steward!” + +Katuti turned to the officer, who had entered the veranda through a side +door: + +“What do you bring,” she asked. + +“The dealer Abscha,” was the answer, “presses for payment. The new +Syrian chariot and the purple cloth--” + +“Sell some corn,” ordered Katuti. + +“Impossible, for the tribute to the temples is not yet paid, and already +so much has been delivered to the dealers that scarcely enough remains +over for the maintenance of the household and for sowing.” + +“Then pay with beasts.” + +“But, madam,” said the steward sorrowfully, “only yesterday, we again +sold a herd to the Mohar; and the water-wheels must be turned, and +the corn must be thrashed, and we need beasts for sacrifice, and milk, +butter, and cheese, for the use of the house, and dung for firing.” + + [In Egypt, where there is so little wood, to this day the dried dung + of beasts is the commonest kind of fuel.] + +Katuti looked thoughtfully at the ground. + +“It must be,” she said presently. “Ride to Hermonthis, and say to the +keeper of the stud that he must have ten of Mena’s golden bays driven +over here.” + +“I have already spoken to him,” said the steward, “but he maintains that +Mena strictly forbade him to part with even one of the horses, for he is +proud of the stock. Only for the chariot of the lady Nefert.” + +“I require obedience,” said Katuti decidedly and cutting short the +steward’s words, “and I expect the horses to-morrow.” + +“But the stud-master is a daring man, whom Mena looks upon as +indispensable, and he--” + +“I command here, and not the absent,” cried Katuti enraged, “and I +require the horses in spite of the former orders of my son-in-law.” + +Nefert, during this conversation, pulled herself up from her indolent +attitude. On hearing the last words she rose from her couch, and said, +with a decision which surprised even her mother-- + +“The orders of my husband must be obeyed. The horses that Mena loves +shall stay in their stalls. Take this armlet that the king gave me; it +is worth more than twenty horses.” + +The steward examined the trinket, richly set with precious stones, +and looked enquiringly at Katuti. She shrugged her shoulders, nodded +consent, and said-- + +“Abscha shall hold it as a pledge till Mena’s booty arrives. For a year +your husband has sent nothing of importance.” + +When the steward was gone, Nefert stretched herself again on her couch +and said wearily: + +“I thought we were rich.” + +“We might be,” said Katuti bitterly; but as she perceived that Nefert’s +cheeks again were glowing, she said amiably, “Our high rank imposes +great duties on us. Princely blood flows in our veins, and the eyes +of the people are turned on the wife of the most brilliant hero in the +king’s army. They shall not say that she is neglected by her husband. +How long Mena remains away!” + +“I hear a noise in the court,” said Nefert. “The Regent is coming.” + +Katuti turned again towards the garden. + +A breathless slave rushed in, and announced that Bent-Anat, the daughter +of the king, had dismounted at the gate, and was approaching the garden +with the prince Rameri. + +Nefert left her couch, and went with her mother to meet the exalted +visitors. + +As the mother and daughter bowed to kiss the robe of the princess, +Bent-Anat signed them back from her. “Keep farther from me,” she said; +“the priests have not yet entirely absolved me from my uncleanness.” + +“And in spite of them thou art clean in the sight of Ra!” exclaimed the +boy who accompanied her, her brother of seventeen, who was brought up at +the House of Seti, which however he was to leave in a few weeks--and he +kissed her. + +“I shall complain to Ameni of this wild boy,” said Bent-Anat smiling. +“He would positively accompany me. Your husband, Nefert, is his model, +and I had no peace in the house, for we came to bring you good news.” + +“From Mena?” asked the young wife, pressing her hand to her heart. + +“As you say,” returned Bent-Anat. “My father praises his ability, and +writes that he, before all others, will have his choice at the dividing +of the spoil.” + +Nefert threw a triumphant glance at her mother, and Katuti drew a deep +breath. + +Bent-Anat stroked Nefert’s cheeks like those of a child. Then she turned +to Katuti, led her into the garden, and begged her to aid her, who had +so early lost her mother, with her advice in a weighty matter. + +“My father,” she continued, after a few introductory words, “informs me +that the Regent Ani desires me for his wife, and advises me to reward +the fidelity of the worthy man with my hand. He advises it, you +understand-he does not command.” + +“And thou?” asked Katuti. + +“And I,” replied Bent-Anat decidedly, “must refuse him.” + +“Thou must!” + +Bent-Anat made a sign of assent and went on: + +“It is quite clear to me. I can do nothing else.” + +“Then thou dost not need my counsel, since even thy father, I well know, +will not be able to alter thy decision.” + +“Not God even,” said Anat firmly. “But you are Ani’s friend, and as I +esteem him, I would save him from this humiliation. Endeavor to persuade +him to give up his suit. I will meet him as though I knew nothing of his +letter to my father.” + +Katuti looked down reflectively. Then she said--“The Regent certainly +likes very well to pass his hours of leisure with me gossiping or +playing draughts, but I do not know that I should dare to speak to him +of so grave a matter.” + +“Marriage-projects are women’s affairs,” said Bent-Anat, smiling. + +“But the marriage of a princess is a state event,” replied the widow. +“In this case it is true the uncle + + [Among the Orientals--and even the Spaniards--it was and is common + to give the name of uncle to a parent’s cousin.] + +only courts his niece, who is dear to him, and who he hopes will make +the second half of his life the brightest. Ani is kind and without +severity. Thou would’st win in him a husband, who would wait on thy +looks, and bow willingly to thy strong will.” + +Bent-Anat’s eyes flashed, and she hastily exclaimed: “That is exactly +what forces the decisive irrevocable ‘No’ to my lips. Do you think that +because I am as proud as my mother, and resolute like my father, that I +wish for a husband whom I could govern and lead as I would? How little +you know me! I will be obeyed by my dogs, my servants, my officers, if +the Gods so will it, by my children. Abject beings, who will kiss my +feet, I meet on every road, and can buy by the hundred, if I wish it, +in the slave market. I may be courted twenty times, and reject twenty +suitors, but not because I fear that they might bend my pride and my +will; on the contrary, because I feel them increased. The man to whom I +could wish to offer my hand must be of a loftier stamp, must be +greater, firmer, and better than I, and I will flutter after the mighty +wing-strokes of his spirit, and smile at my own weakness, and glory in +admiring his superiority.” + +Katuti listened to the maiden with the smile by which the experienced +love to signify their superiority over the visionary. + +“Ancient times may have produced such men,” she said. “But if in these +days thou thinkest to find one, thou wilt wear the lock of youth, + + [The lock of youth was a curl of hair which all the younger members + of princely families wore at the side of the head. The young Horus + is represented with it.] + +till thou art grey. Our thinkers are no heroes, and our heroes are no +sages. Here come thy brother and Nefert.” + +“Will you persuade Ani to give up his suit!” said the princess urgently. + +“I will endeavor to do so, for thy sake,” replied Katuti. Then, turning +half to the young Rameri and half to his sister, she said: + +“The chief of the House of Seti, Ameni, was in his youth such a man as +thou paintest, Bent-Anat. Tell us, thou son of Rameses, that art growing +up under the young sycamores, which shall some day over-shadow the +land-whom dost thou esteem the highest among thy companions? Is there +one among them, who is conspicuous above them all for a lofty spirit and +strength of intellect?” + +The young Rameri looked gaily at the speaker, and said laughing: “We are +all much alike, and do more or less willingly what we are compelled, and +by preference every thing that we ought not.” + +“A mighty soul--a youth, who promises to be a second Snefru, a Thotmes, +or even an Amem? Dost thou know none such in the House of Seti?” asked +the widow. “Oh yes!” cried Rameri with eager certainty. + +“And he is--?” asked Katuti. + +“Pentaur, the poet,” exclaimed the youth. Bent-Anat’s face glowed with +scarlet color, while her, brother went on to explain. + +“He is noble and of a lofty soul, and all the Gods dwell in him when +he speaks. Formerly we used to go to sleep in the lecture-hall; but his +words carry us away, and if we do not take in the full meaning of his +thoughts, yet we feel that they are genuine and noble.” + +Bent-Anat breathed quicker at these words, and her eyes hung on the +boy’s lips. + +“You know him, Bent-Anat,” continued Rameri. “He was with you at the +paraschites’ house, and in the temple-court when Ameni pronounced you +unclean. He is as tall and handsome as the God Mentli, and I feel that +he is one of those whom we can never forget when once we have seen them. +Yesterday, after you had left the temple, he spoke as he never spoke +before; he poured fire into our souls. Do not laugh, Katuti, I feel it +burning still. This morning we were informed that he had been sent from +the temple, who knows where--and had left us a message of farewell. It +was not thought at all necessary to communicate the reason to us; but +we know more than the masters think. He did not reprove you strongly +enough, Bent-Anat, and therefore he is driven out of the House of +Seti. We have agreed to combine to ask for him to be recalled; Anana is +drawing up a letter to the chief priest, which we shall all subscribe. +It would turn out badly for one alone, but they cannot be at all of us +at once. Very likely they will have the sense to recall him. If not, we +shall all complain to our fathers, and they are not the meanest in the +land.” + +“It is a complete rebellion,” cried Katuti. “Take care, you lordlings; +Ameni and the other prophets are not to be trifled with.” + +“Nor we either,” said Rameri laughing, “If Pentaur is kept in +banishment, I shall appeal to my father to place me at the school at +Heliopolis or Chennu, and the others will follow me. Come, Bent-Anat, +I must be back in the trap before sunset. Excuse me, Katuti, so we call +the school. Here comes your little Nemu.” + +The brother and sister left the garden. + +As soon as the ladies, who accompanied them, had turned their backs, +Bent-Anat grasped her brother’s hand with unaccustomed warmth, and said: + +“Avoid all imprudence; but your demand is just, and I will help you with +all my heart.” + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +As soon as Bent-Anat had quitted Mena’s domain, the dwarf Nemu entered +the garden with a letter, and briefly related his adventures; but in +such a comical fashion that both the ladies laughed, and Katuti, with a +lively gaiety, which was usually foreign to her, while she warned him, +at the same time praised his acuteness. She looked at the seal of the +letter and said: + +“This is a lucky day; it has brought us great things, and the promise +of greater things in the future.” Nefert came close up to her and said +imploringly: “Open the letter, and see if there is nothing in it from +him.” + +Katuti unfastened the wax, looked through the letter with a hasty +glance, stroked the cheek of her child, and said: + +“Perhaps your brother has written for him; I see no line in his +handwriting.” + +Nefert on her side glanced at the letter, but not to read it, only to +seek some trace of the well-known handwriting of her husband. + +Like all the Egyptian women of good family she could read, and during +the first two years of her married life she had often--very often--had +the opportunity of puzzling, and yet rejoicing, over the feeble signs +which the iron hand of the charioteer had scrawled on the papyrus for +her whose slender fingers could guide the reed pen with firmness and +decision. + +She examined the letter, and at last said, with tears in her eyes: + +“Nothing! I will go to my room, mother.” + +Katuti kissed her and said, “Hear first what your brother writes.” + +But Nefert shook her head, turned away in silence, and disappeared into +the house. + +Katuti was not very friendly to her son-in-law, but her heart clung +to her handsome, reckless son, the very image of her lost husband, +the favorite of women, and the gayest youth among the young nobles who +composed the chariot-guard of the king. + +How fully he had written to-day--he who weilded the reed-pen so +laboriously. + +This really was a letter; while, usually, he only asked in the fewest +words for fresh funds for the gratification of his extravagant tastes. + +This time she might look for thanks, for not long since he must have +received a considerable supply, which she had abstracted from the income +of the possessions entrusted to her by her son-in-law. + +She began to read. + +The cheerfulness, with which she had met the dwarf, was insincere, and +had resembled the brilliant colors of the rainbow, which gleam over +the stagnant waters of a bog. A stone falls into the pool, the colors +vanish, dim mists rise up, and it becomes foul and clouded. + +The news which her son’s letter contained fell, indeed, like a block of +stone on Katuti’s soul. + +Our deepest sorrows always flow from the same source as might have +filled us with joy, and those wounds burn the fiercest which are +inflicted by a hand we love. + +The farther Katuti went in the lamentably incorrect epistle--which she +could only decipher with difficulty--which her darling had written to +her, the paler grew her face, which she several times covered with her +trembling hands, from which the letter dropped. + +Nemu squatted on the earth near her, and followed all her movements. + +When she sprang forward with a heart-piercing scream, and pressed her +forehead to a rough palmtrunk, he crept up to her, kissed her feet, and +exclaimed with a depth of feeling that overcame even Katuti, who was +accustomed to hear only gay or bitter speeches from the lips of her +jester-- + +“Mistress! lady! what has happened?” + +Katuti collected herself, turned to him, and tried to speak; but her +pale lips remained closed, and her eyes gazed dimly into vacancy as +though a catalepsy had seized her. + +“Mistress! Mistress!” cried the dwarf again, with growing agitation. +“What is the matter? shall I call thy daughter?” + +Katuti made a sign with her hand, and cried feebly: “The wretches! the +reprobates!” + +Her breath began to come quickly, the blood mounted to her cheeks +and her flashing eyes; she trod upon the letter, and wept so loud and +passionately, that the dwarf, who had never before seen tears in her +eyes, raised himself timidly, and said in mild reproach: “Katuti!” + +She laughed bitterly, and said with a trembling voice: + +“Why do you call my name so loud! it is disgraced and degraded. How +the nobles and the ladies will rejoice! Now envy can point at us with +spiteful joy--and a minute ago I was praising this day! They say one +should exhibit one’s happiness in the streets, and conceal one’s misery; +on the contrary, on the contrary! Even the Gods should not know of one’s +hopes and joys, for they too are envious and spiteful!” + +Again she leaned her head against the palm-tree. “Thou speakest of +shame, and not of death,” said Nemu, “and I learned from thee that one +should give nothing up for lost excepting the dead.” + +These words had a powerful effect on the agitated woman. Quickly and +vehemently she turned upon the dwarf saying. + +“You are clever, and faithful too, so listen! but if you were Amon +himself there is nothing to be done--” + +“We must try,” said Nemu, and his sharp eyes met those of his mistress. + +“Speak,” he said, “and trust me. Perhaps I can be of no use; but that I +can be silent thou knowest.” + +“Before long the children in the streets will talk of what this tells +me,” said Katuti, laughing with bitterness, “only Nefert must know +nothing of what has happened--nothing, mind; what is that? the Regent +coming! quick, fly; tell him I am suddenly taken ill, very ill; I cannot +see him, not now! No one is to be admitted--no one, do you hear?” + +The dwarf went. + +When he came back after he had fulfilled his errand, he found his +mistress still in a fever of excitement. + +“Listen,” she said; “first the smaller matter, then the frightful, the +unspeakable. Rameses loads Mena with marks of his favor. It came to a +division of the spoils of war for the year; a great heap of treasure lay +ready for each of his followers, and the charioteer had to choose before +all the others.” + +“Well?” said the dwarf. + +“Well!” echoed Katuti. “Well! how did the worthy householder care for +his belongings at home, how did he seek to relieve his indebted estate? +It is disgraceful, hideous! He passed by the silver, the gold, the +jewels, with a laugh; and took the captive daughter of the Danaid +princes, and led her into his tent.” + +“Shameful!” muttered the dwarf. + +“Poor, poor Nefert!” cried Katuti, covering her face with her hands. + +“And what more?” asked Nemu hastily. + +“That,” said Katuti, “that is--but I will keep calm--quite calm and +quiet. You know my son. He is heedless, but he loves me and his sister +more than anything in the world. I, fool as I was, to persuade him +to economy, had vividly described our evil plight, and after that +disgraceful conduct of Mena he thought of us and of our anxieties. His +share of the booty was small, and could not help us. His comrades threw +dice for the shares they had obtained--he staked his to win more for us. +He lost--all--all--and at last against an enormous sum, still thinking +of us, and only of us, he staked the mummy of his dead father. + + [It was a king of the fourth dynasty, named Asychis by Herodotus, + who it is admitted was the first to pledge the mummies of his + ancestors. “He who stakes this pledge and fails to redeem the debt + shall, after his death, rest neither in his father’s tomb nor in any + other, and sepulture shall be denied to his descendants.” Herod. + 11. 136.] + +He lost. If he does not redeem the pledge before the expiration of the +third month, he will fall into infamy, the mummy will belong to the +winner, and disgrace and ignominy will be my lot and his.” + +Katuti pressed her hands on her face, the dwarf muttered to himself, +“The gambler and hypocrite!” When his mistress had grown calmer, he +said: + +“It is horrible, yet all is not lost. How much is the debt?” + +It sounded like a heavy curse, when Katuti replied, “Thirty Babylonian +talents.”--[L7000 sterling in 1881.] + +The dwarf cried out, as if an asp had stung him. “Who dared to bid +against such a mad stake?” + +“The Lady Hathor’s son, Antef,” answered Katuti, “who has already +gambled away the inheritance of his fathers, in Thebes.” + +“He will not remit one grain of wheat of his claim,” cried the dwarf. +“And Mena?” + +“How could my son turn to him after what had happened? The poor child +implores me to ask the assistance of the Regent.” + +“Of the Regent?” said the dwarf, shaking his big head. “Impossible!” + +“I know, as matters now stand; but his place, his name.” + +“Mistress,” said the dwarf, and deep purpose rang in the words, “do not +spoil the future for the sake of the present. If thy son loses his honor +under King Rameses, the future King, Ani, may restore it to him. If the +Regent now renders you all an important service, he will regard you as +amply paid when our efforts have succeeded, and he sits on the throne. +He lets himself be led by thee now because thou hast no need of his +help, and dost seem to work only for his sake, and for his elevation. +As soon as thou hast appealed to him, and he has assisted thee, all thy +confidence and freedom will be gone, and the more difficult he finds +it to raise so large a sum of money at once, the angrier he will be to +think that thou art making use of him. Thou knowest his circumstances.” + +“He is in debt,” said Katuti. “I know that.” + +“Thou should’st know it,” cried the dwarf, “for thou thyself hast forced +him to enormous expenses. He has won the people of Thebes with dazzling +festive displays; as guardian of Apis + + [When Apis (the sacred bull) died under Ptolemy I. Soter, his + keepers spent not only the money which they had received for his + maintenance, in his obsequies but borrowed 50 talents of silver from + the king. In the time of Diodurus 100 talents were spent for the + same purpose.] + +he gave a large donation to Memphis; he bestowed thousands on the +leaders of the troops sent into Ethiopia, which were equipped by him; +what his spies cost him at, the camp of the king, thou knowest. He has +borrowed sums of money from most of the rich men in the country, and +that is well, for so many creditors are so many allies. The Regent is a +bad debtor; but the king Ani, they reckon, will be a grateful payer.” + +Katuti looked at the dwarf in astonishment. “You know men!” she said. + +“To my sorrow!” replied Nemu. “Do not apply to the Regent, and before +thou dost sacrifice the labor of years, and thy future greatness, and +that of those near to thee, sacrifice thy son’s honor.” + +“And my husband’s, and my own?” exclaimed Katuti. “How can you know what +that is! Honor is a word that the slave may utter, but whose meaning he +can never comprehend; you rub the weals that are raised on you by blows; +to me every finger pointed at me in scorn makes a wound like an ashwood +lance with a poisoned tip of brass. Oh ye holy Gods! who can help us?” + +The miserable woman pressed her hands over her eyes, as if to shut out +the sight of her own disgrace. The dwarf looked at her compassionately, +and said in a changed tone: + +“Dost thou remember the diamond which fell out of Nefert’s handsomest +ring? We hunted for it, and could not find it. Next day, as I was going +through the room, I trod on something hard; I stooped down and found the +stone. What the noble organ of sight, the eye, overlooked, the callous +despised sole of the foot found; and perhaps the small slave, Nemu, who +knows nothing of honor, may succeed in finding a mode of escape which is +not revealed to the lofty soul of his mistress!” + +“What are you thinking of?” asked Katuti. + +“Escape,” answered the dwarf. “Is it true that thy sister Setchem has +visited thee, and that you are reconciled?” + +“She offered me her hand, and I took it?” + +“Then go to her. Men are never more helpful than after a reconciliation. +The enmity they have driven out, seems to leave as it were a +freshly-healed wound which must be touched with caution; and Setchem is +of thy own blood, and kind-hearted.” + +“She is not rich,” replied Katuti. “Every palm in her garden comes from +her husband, and belongs to her children.” + +“Paaker, too, was with you?” + +“Certainly only by the entreaty of his mother--he hates my son-in-law.” + +“I know it,” muttered the dwarf, “but if Nefert would ask him?” + +The widow drew herself up indignantly. She felt that she had allowed the +dwarf too much freedom, and ordered him to leave her alone. + +Nemu kissed her robe and asked timidly: + +“Shall I forget that thou hast trusted me, or am I permitted to consider +further as to thy son’s safety?” Katuti stood for a moment undecided, +then she said: + +“You were clever enough to find what I carelessly dropped; perhaps some +God may show you what I ought to do. Now leave me.” + +“Wilt thou want me early to-morrow?” + +“No.” + +“Then I will go to the Necropolis, and offer a sacrifice.” + +“Go!” said Katuti, and went towards the house with the fatal letter in +her hand. + +Nemu stayed behind alone; he looked thoughtfully at the ground, +murmuring to himself. + +“She must not lose her honor; not at present, or indeed all will be +lost. What is this honor? We all come into the world without it, and +most of us go to the grave without knowing it, and very good folks +notwithstanding. Only a few who are rich and idle weave it in with the +homely stuff of their souls, as the Kuschites do their hair with grease +and oils, till it forms a cap of which, though it disfigures them, they +are so proud that they would rather have their ears cut off than the +monstrous thing. I see, I see--but before I open my mouth I will go to +my mother. She knows more than twenty prophets.” + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +Before the sun had risen the next morning, Nemu got himself ferried +over the Nile, with the small white ass which Mena’s deceased father had +given him many years before. He availed himself of the cool hour which +precedes the rising of the sun for his ride through the Necropolis. + +Well acquainted as he was with every stock and stone, he avoided the +high roads which led to the goal of his expedition, and trotted towards +the hill which divides the valley of the royal tombs from the plain of +the Nile. + +Before him opened a noble amphitheatre of lofty lime-stone peaks, the +background of the stately terrace-temple which the proud ancestress of +two kings of the fallen family, the great Hatasu, had erected to their +memory, and to the Goddess Hathor. + +Nemu left the sanctuary to his left, and rode up the steep hill-path +which was the nearest way from the plain to the valley of the tombs. + +Below him lay a bird’s eye view of the terrace-building of Hatasu, and +before him, still slumbering in cool dawn, was the Necropolis with its +houses and temples and colossal statues, the broad Nile glistening with +white sails under the morning mist; and, in the distant east, rosy with +the coming sun, stood Thebes and her gigantic temples. + +But the dwarf saw nothing of the glorious panorama that lay at his feet; +absorbed in thought, and stooping over the neck of his ass, he let the +panting beast climb and rest at its pleasure. + +When he had reached half the height of the hill, he perceived the sound +of footsteps coming nearer and nearer to him. + +The vigorous walker had soon reached him, and bid him good morning, +which he civilly returned. + +The hill-path was narrow, and when Nemu observed that the man who +followed him was a priest, he drew up his donkey on a level spot, and +said reverently: + +“Pass on, holy father; for thy two feet carry thee quicker than my +four.” + +“A sufferer needs my help,” replied the leech Nebsecht, Pentaur’s +friend, whom we have already seen in the House of Seti, and by the bed +of the paraschites’ daughter; and he hastened on so as to gain on the +slow pace of the rider. + +Then rose the glowing disk of the sun above the eastern horizon, and +from the sanctuaries below the travellers rose up the pious many-voiced +chant of praise. + +Nemu slipped off his ass, and assumed an attitude of prayer; the priest +did the same; but while the dwarf devoutly fixed his eyes on the new +birth of the Sun-God from the eastern range, the priest’s eyes wandered +to the earth, and his raised hand fell to pick up a rare fossil shell +which lay on the path. + +In a few minutes Nebsecht rose, and Nemu followed him. + +“It is a fine morning,” said the dwarf; “the holy fathers down there +seem more cheerful to-day than usual.” + +The surgeon laughed assent. “Do you belong to the Necropolis?” he said. +“Who here keeps dwarfs?” + +“No one,” answered the little man. “But I will ask thee a question. Who +that lives here behind the hill is of so much importance, that a leech +from the House of Seti sacrifices his night’s rest for him?” + +“The one I visit is mean, but the suffering is great,” answered +Nebsecht. + +Nemu looked at him with admiration, and muttered, “That is noble, +that is----” but he did not finish his speech; he struck his brow and +exclaimed, “You are going, by the desire of the Princess Bent-Anat, to +the child of the paraschites that was run over. I guessed as much. The +food must have an excellent after-taste, if a gentleman rises so early +to eat it. How is the poor child doing?” + +There was so much warmth in these last words that Nebsecht, who had +thought the dwarf’s reproach uncalled for, answered in a friendly tone: + +“Not so badly; she may be saved.” + +“The Gods be praised!” exclaimed Nemu, while the priest passed on. + +Nebsecht went up and down the hillside at a redoubled pace, and had long +taken his place by the couch of the wounded Uarda in the hovel of the +paraschites, when Nemu drew near to the abode of his Mother Hekt, from +whom Paaker had received the philter. + +The old woman sat before the door of her cave. Near her lay a board, +fitted with cross pieces, between which a little boy was stretched in +such a way that they touched his head and his feet. + +Hekt understood the art of making dwarfs; playthings in human form were +well paid for, and the child on the rack, with his pretty little face, +promised to be a valuable article. + +As soon as the sorceress saw some one approaching, she stooped over the +child, took him up board and all in her arms, and carried him into the +cave. Then she said sternly: + +“If you move, little one, I will flog you. Now let me tie you.” + +“Don’t tie me,” said the child, “I will be good and lie still.” + +“Stretch yourself out,” ordered the old woman, and tied the child with +a rope to the board. “If you are quiet, I’ll give you a honey-cake +by-and-bye, and let you play with the young chickens.” + +The child was quiet, and a soft smile of delight and hope sparkled in +his pretty eyes. His little hand caught the dress of the old woman, and +with the sweetest coaxing tone, which God bestows on the innocent voices +of children, he said: + +“I will be as still as a mouse, and no one shall know that I am here; +but if you give me the honeycake you will untie me for a little, and let +me go to Uarda.” + +“She is ill!--what do you want there?” + +“I would take her the cake,” said the child, and his eyes glistened with +tears. + +The old woman touched the child’s chin with her finger, and some +mysterious power prompted her to bend over him to kiss him. But before +her lips had touched his face she turned away, and said, in a hard tone: + +“Lie still! by and bye we will see.” Then she stooped, and threw a brown +sack over the child. She went back into the open air, greeted Nemu, +entertained him with milk, bread and honey, gave him news of the girl +who had been run over, for he seemed to take her misfortune very much to +heart, and finally asked: + +“What brings you here? The Nile was still narrow when you last found +your way to me, and now it has been falling some time. + + [This is the beginning of November. The Nile begins slowly to rise + early in June; between the 15th and 20th of July it suddenly swells + rapidly, and in the first half of October, not, as was formerly + supposed, at the end of September, the inundation reaches its + highest level. Heinrich Barth established these data beyond + dispute. After the water has begun to sink it rises once more in + October and to a higher level than before. Then it soon falls, at + first slowly, but by degrees quicker and quicker.] + +Are you sent by your mistress, or do you want my help? All the world is +alike. No one goes to see any one else unless he wants to make use of +him. What shall I give you?” + +“I want nothing,” said the dwarf, “but--” + +“You are commissioned by a third person,” said the witch, laughing. “It +is the same thing. Whoever wants a thing for some one else only thinks +of his own interest.” + +“May be,” said Nemu. “At any rate your words show that you have not +grown less wise since I saw you last--and I am glad of it, for I want +your advice.” + +“Advice is cheap. What is going on out there?” Nemu related to his +mother shortly, clearly, and without reserve, what was plotting in +his mistress’s house, and the frightful disgrace with which she was +threatened through her son. + +The old woman shook her grey head thoughtfully several times: but she +let the little man go on to the end of his story without interrupting +him. Then she asked, and her eyes flashed as she spoke: + +“And you really believe that you will succeed in putting the sparrow on +the eagle’s perch--Ani on the throne of Rameses?” + +“The troops fighting in Ethiopia are for us,” cried Nemu. “The priests +declare themselves against the king, and recognize in Ani the genuine +blood of Ra.” + +“That is much,” said the old woman. + +“And many dogs are the death of the gazelle,” said Nemu laughing. + +“But Rameses is not a gazelle to run, but a lion,” said the old woman +gravely. “You are playing a high game.” + +“We know it,” answered Nemu. “But it is for high stakes--there is much +to win.” + +“And all to lose,” muttered the old woman, passing her fingers round her +scraggy neck. “Well, do as you please--it is all the same to me who it +is sends the young to be killed, and drives the old folks’ cattle from +the field. What do they want with me?” + +“No one has sent me,” answered the dwarf. “I come of my own free fancy +to ask you what Katuti must do to save her son and her house from +dishonor.” + +“Hm!” hummed the witch, looking at Nemu while she raised herself on +her stick. “What has come to you that you take the fate of these great +people to heart as if it were your own?” + +The dwarf reddened, and answered hesitatingly, “Katuti is a good +mistress, and, if things go well with her, there may be windfalls for +you and me.” + +Hekt shook her head doubtfully. + +“A loaf for you perhaps, and a crumb for me!” she said. “There is more +than that in your mind, and I can read your heart as if you were a +ripped up raven. You are one of those who can never keep their fingers +at rest, and must knead everybody’s dough; must push, and drive and stir +something. Every jacket is too tight for you. If you were three feet +taller, and the son of a priest, you might have gone far. High you will +go, and high you will end; as the friend of a king--or on the gallows.” + +The old woman laughed; but Nemu bit his lips, and said: + +“If you had sent me to school, and if I were not the son of a witch, +and a dwarf, I would play with men as they have played with me; for I am +cleverer than all of them, and none of their plans are hidden from me. +A hundred roads lie before me, when they don’t know whether to go out +or in; and where they rush heedlessly forwards I see the abyss that they +are running to.” + +“And nevertheless you come to me?” said the old woman sarcastically. + +“I want your advice,” said Nemu seriously. “Four eyes see more than one, +and the impartial looker-on sees clearer than the player; besides you +are bound to help me.” + +The old woman laughed loud in astonishment. “Bound!” she said, “I? and +to what if you please?” + +“To help me,” replied the dwarf, half in entreaty, and half in reproach. +“You deprived me of my growth, and reduced me to a cripple.” + +“Because no one is better off than you dwarfs,” interrupted the witch. + +Nemu shook his head, and answered sadly-- + +“You have often said so--and perhaps for many others, who are born in +misery like me--perhaps-you are right; but for me--you have spoilt my +life; you have crippled not my body only but my soul, and have condemned +me to sufferings that are nameless and unutterable.” + +The dwarf’s big head sank on his breast, and with his left hand he +pressed his heart. + +The old woman went up to him kindly. + +“What ails you?” she asked, “I thought it was well with you in Mena’s +house.” + +“You thought so?” cried the dwarf. “You who show me as in a mirror what +I am, and how mysterious powers throng and stir in me? You made me what +I am by your arts; you sold me to the treasurer of Rameses, and he gave +me to the father of Mena, his brother-in-law. Fifteen years ago! I was +a young man then, a youth like any other, only more passionate, more +restless, and fiery than they. I was given as a plaything to the young +Mena, and he harnessed me to his little chariot, and dressed me out with +ribbons and feathers, and flogged me when I did not go fast enough. How +the girl--for whom I would have given my life--the porter’s daughter, +laughed when I, dressed up in motley, hopped panting in front of the +chariot and the young lord’s whip whistled in my ears wringing the sweat +from my brow, and the blood from my broken heart. Then Mena’s father +died, the boy, went to school, and I waited on the wife of his steward, +whom Katuti banished to Hermonthis. That was a time! The little daughter +of the house made a doll of me, + + [Dolls belonging to the time of the Pharaohs are preserved in the + museums, for instance, the jointed ones at Leyden.] + +laid me in the cradle, and made me shut my eyes and pretend to sleep, +while love and hatred, and great projects were strong within me. If +I tried to resist they beat me with rods; and when once, in a rage, I +forgot myself, and hit little Mertitefs hard, Mena, who came in, hung me +up in the store-room to a nail by my girdle, and left me to swing there; +he said he had forgotten to take me down again. The rats fell upon me; +here are the scars, these little white spots here--look! They perhaps +will some day wear out, but the wounds that my spirit received in those +hours have not yet ceased to bleed. Then Mena married Nefert, and, with +her, his mother-in-law, Katuti, came into the house. She took me from +the steward, I became indispensable to her; she treats me like a man, +she values my intelligence and listens to my advice,--therefore I will +make her great, and with her, and through her, I will wax mighty. If Ani +mounts the throne, we wilt guide him--you, and I, and she! Rameses must +fall, and with him Mena, the boy who degraded my body and poisoned my +soul!” + +During this speech the old woman had stood in silence opposite the +dwarf. Now she sat down on her rough wooden seat, and said, while she +proceeded to pluck a lapwing: + +“Now I understand you; you wish to be revenged. You hope to rise high, +and I am to whet your knife, and hold the ladder for you. Poor little +man! there, sit down-drink a gulp of milk to cool you, and listen to my +advice. Katuti wants a great deal of money to escape dishonor. She need +only pick it up--it lies at her door.” The dwarf looked at the witch in +astonishment. + +“The Mohar Paaker is her sister Setchem’s son. Is he not?” + +“As you say.” + +“Katuti’s daughter Nefert is the wife of your master Mena, and another +would like to tempt the neglected little hen into his yard.” + +“You mean Paaker, to whom Nefert was promised before she went after +Mena.” + +“Paaker was with me the day before yesterday.” + +“With you?” + +“Yes, with me, with old Hekt--to buy a love philter. I gave him one, and +as I was curious I went after him, saw him give the water to the little +lady, and found out her name.” + +“And Nefert drank the magic drink?” asked the dwarf horrified. “Vinegar +and turnip juice,” laughed the old witch. “A lord who comes to me to win +a wife is ripe for any thing. Let Nefert ask Paaker for the money, and +the young scapegrace’s debts are paid.” + +“Katuti is proud, and repulsed me severely when I proposed this.” + +“Then she must sue to Paaker herself for the money. Go back to him, make +him hope that Nefert is inclined to him, tell him what distresses the +ladies, and if he refuses, but only if he refuses, let him see that you +know something of the little dose.” + +The dwarf looked meditatively on the ground, and then said, looking +admiringly at the old woman: “That is the right thing.” + +“You will find out the lie without my telling you,” mumbled the witch; +“your business is not perhaps such a bad one as it seemed to me at +first. Katuti may thank the ne’er-do-well who staked his father’s +corpse. You don’t understand me? Well, if you are really the sharpest of +them all over there, what must the others be?” + +“You mean that people will speak well of my mistress for sacrificing so +large a sum for the sake--?” + +“Whose sake? why speak well of her?” cried the old woman impatiently. +“Here we deal with other things, with actual facts. There stands +Paaker--there the wife of Mena. If the Mohar sacrifices a fortune for +Nefert, he will be her master, and Katuti will not stand in his way; she +knows well enough why her nephew pays for her. But some one else stops +the way, and that is Mena. It is worth while to get him out of the way. +The charioteer stands close to the Pharaoh, and the noose that is flung +at one may easily fall round the neck of the other too. Make the Mohar +your ally, and it may easily happen that your rat-bites may be paid for +with mortal wounds, and Rameses who, if you marched against him openly, +might blow you to the ground, may be hit by a lance thrown from an +ambush. When the throne is clear, the weak legs of the Regent may +succeed in clambering up to it with the help of the priests. Here you +sit-open-mouthed; and I have told you nothing that you might not have +found out for yourself.” + +“You are a perfect cask of wisdom!” exclaimed the dwarf. + +“And now you will go away,” said Hekt, “and reveal your schemes to your +mistress and the Regent, and they will be astonished at your cleverness. +To-day you still know that I have shown you what you have to do; +to-morrow you will have forgotten it; and the day after to-morrow you +will believe yourself possessed by the inspiration of the nine great +Gods. I know that; but I cannot give anything for nothing. You live by +your smallness, another makes his living with his hard hands, I earn my +scanty bread by the thoughts of my brain. Listen! when you have half won +Paaker, and Ani shows himself inclined to make use of him, then say to +him that I may know a secret--and I do know one, I alone--which may make +the Mohar the sport of his wishes, and that I may be disposed to sell +it.” + +“That shall be done! certainly, mother,” cried the dwarf. “What do you +wish for?” + +“Very little,” said the old woman. “Only a permit that makes me free to +do and to practise whatever I please, unmolested even by the priests, +and to receive an honorable burial after my death.” + +“The Regent will hardly agree to that; for he must avoid everything that +may offend the servants of the Gods.” + +“And do everything,” retorted the old woman, “that can degrade Rameses +in their sight. Ani, do you hear, need not write me a new license, +but only renew the old one granted to me by Rameses when I cured his +favorite horse. They burnt it with my other possessions, when they +plundered my house, and denounced me and my belongings for sorcery. The +permit of Rameses is what I want, nothing more.” + +“You shall have it,” said the dwarf. “Good-by; I am charged to look into +the tomb of our house, and see whether the offerings for the dead are +regularly set out; to pour out fresh essences and have various things +renewed. When Sechet has ceased to rage, and it is cooler, I shall come +by here again, for I should like to call on the paraschites, and see how +the poor child is.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +During this conversation two men had been busily occupied, in front of +the paraschites’ hut, in driving piles into the earth, and stretching a +torn linen cloth upon them. + +One of them, old Pinem, whom we have seen tending his grandchild, +requested the other from time to time to consider the sick girl and to +work less noisily. + +After they had finished their simple task, and spread a couch of fresh +straw under the awning, they too sat down on the earth, and looked at +the hut before which the surgeon Nebsecht was sitting waiting till the +sleeping girl should wake. + +“Who is that?” asked the leech of the old man, pointing to his young +companion, a tall sunburnt soldier with a bushy red beard. + +“My son,” replied the paraschites, “who is just returned from Syria.” + +“Uarda’s father?” asked Nebsecht. + +The soldier nodded assent, and said with a rough voice, but not without +cordiality. + +“No one could guess it by looking at us--she is so white and rosy. Her +mother was a foreigner, and she has turned out as delicate as she was. I +am afraid to touch her with my little finger--and there comes a chariot +over the brittle doll, and does not quite crush her, for she is still +alive.” + +“Without the help of this holy father,” said the paraschites, +approaching the surgeon, and kissing his robe, “you would never have +seen her alive again. May the Gods reward thee for what thou hast done +for its poor folks!” + +“And we can pay too,” cried the soldier, slapping a full purse that hung +at his gridle. “We have taken plunder in Syria, and I will buy a calf, +and give it to thy temple.” + +“Offer a beast of dough, rather.” + + [Hogs were sacrificed at the feasts of Selene (the Egyptian + Nechebt). The poor offer pigs made of dough. Herodotus II., 47. + Various kinds of cakes baked in the form of animals are represented + on the monuments.] + +replied Nebsecht, “and if you wish to show yourself grateful to me, give +the money to your father, so that he may feed and nurse your child in +accordance with my instructions.” + +“Hm,” murmured the soldier; he took the purse from his girdle, +flourished it in his hand, and said, as he handed it to the paraschites: + +“I should have liked to drink it! but take it, father, for the child and +my mother.” + +While the old man hesitatingly put out his hand for the rich gift, the +soldier recollected himself and said, opening the purse: + +“Let me take out a few rings, for to-day I cannot go dry. I have two or +three comrades lodging in the red Tavern. That is right. There,--take +the rest of the rubbish.” + +Nebsecht nodded approvingly at the soldier, and he, as his father +gratefully kissed the surgeon’s hand, exclaimed: + +“Make the little one sound, holy father! It, is all over with gifts and +offerings, for I have nothing left; but there are two iron fists and a +breast like the wall of a fortress. If at any time thou dost want help, +call me, and I will protect thee against twenty enemies. Thou hast saved +my child--good! Life for life. I sign myself thy blood-ally--there.” + +With these words he drew his poniard out of his girdle. He scratched his +arm, and let a few drops of his blood run down on a stone at the feet of +Nebsecht--“Look,” he said. “There is my bond, Kaschta has signed himself +thine, and thou canst dispose of my life as of thine own. What I have +said, I have said.” + +“I am a man of peace,” Nebsecht stammered, “And my white robe protects +me. But I believe our patient is awake.” + +The physician rose, and entered the hut. + +Uarda’s pretty head lay on her grandmother’s lap, and her large blue +eyes turned contentedly on the priest. + +“She might get up and go out into the air,” said the old woman. “She has +slept long and soundly.” The surgeon examined her pulse, and her wound, +on which green leaves were laid. + +“Excellent,” he said; “who gave you this healing herb?” + +The old woman shuddered, and hesitated; but Uarda said fearlessly; “Old +Hekt, who lives over there in the black cave.” + +“The witch!” muttered Nebsecht. “But we will let the leaves remain; if +they do good, it is no matter where they came from.” + +“Hekt tasted the drops thou didst give her,” said the old woman, “and +agreed that they were good.” + +“Then we are satisfied with each other,” answered Nebsecht, with a smile +of amusement. “We will carry you now into the open air, little maid; +for the air in here is as heavy as lead, and your damaged lung requires +lighter nourishment.” + +“Yes, let me go out,” said the girl. “It is well that thou hast not +brought back the other with thee, who tormented me with his vows.” + +“You mean blind Teta,” said Nebsecht, “he will not come again; but the +young priest who soothed your father, when he repulsed the princess, +will visit you. He is kindly disposed, and you should--you should--” + +“Pentaur will come?” said the girl eagerly. + +“Before midday. But how do you know his name?” + +“I know him,” said Uarda decidedly. + +The surgeon looked at her surprised. + +“You must not talk any more,” he said, “for your cheeks are glowing, and +the fever may return. We have arranged a tent for you, and now we will +carry you into the open air.” + +“Not yet,” said the girl. “Grandmother, do my hair for me, it is so +heavy.” + +With these words she endeavored to part her mass of long reddish-brown +hair with her slender hands, and to free it from the straws that had got +entangled in it. + +“Lie still,” said the surgeon, in a warning voice. + +“But it is so heavy,” said the sick girl, smiling and showing Nebsecht +her abundant wealth of golden hair as if it were a fatiguing burden. +“Come, grandmother, and help me.” + +The old woman leaned over the child, and combed her long locks carefully +with a coarse comb made of grey horn, gently disengaged the straws +from the golden tangle, and at last laid two thick long plaits on her +granddaughter’s shoulders. + +Nebsecht knew that every movement of the wounded girl might do mischief, +and his impulse was to stop the old woman’s proceedings, but his tongue +seemed spell-bound. Surprised, motionless, and with crimson cheeks, he +stood opposite the girl, and his eyes followed every movement of her +hands with anxious observation. + +She did not notice him. + +When the old woman laid down the comb Uarda drew a long breath. + +“Grandmother,” she said, “give me the mirror.” The old woman brought +a shard of dimly glazed, baked clay. The girl turned to the light, +contemplated the undefined reflection for a moment, and said: + +“I have not seen a flower for so long, grandmother.” + +“Wait, child,” she replied; she took from a jug the rose, which the +princess had laid on the bosom of her grandchild, and offered it to her. +Before Uarda could take it, the withered petals fell, and dropped +upon her. The surgeon stooped, gathered them up, and put them into the +child’s hand. + +“How good you are!” she said; “I am called Uarda--like this flower--and +I love roses and the fresh air. Will you carry me out now?” + +Nebsecht called the paraschites, who came into the hut with his son, and +they carried the girl out into the air, and laid her under the humble +tent they had contrived for her. The soldier’s knees trembled while he +held the light burden of his daughter’s weight in his strong hands, and +he sighed when he laid her down on the mat. + +“How blue the sky is!” cried Uarda. “Ah! grandfather has watered my +pomegranate, I thought so! and there come my doves! give me some corn in +my hand, grandmother. How pleased they are.” + +The graceful birds, with black rings round their reddish-grey necks, +flew confidingly to her, and took the corn that she playfully laid +between her lips. + +Nebsecht looked on with astonishment at this pretty play. He felt as if +a new world had opened to him, and some new sense, hitherto unknown to +him, had been revealed to him within his breast. He silently sat down +in front of the but, and drew the picture of a rose on the sand with a +reed-stem that he picked up. + +Perfect stillness was around him; the doves even had flown up, and +settled on the roof. Presently the dog barked, steps approached; Uarda +lifted herself up and said: + +“Grandmother, it is the priest Pentaur.” + +“Who told you?” asked the old woman. + +“I know it,” answered the girl decidedly, and in a few moments a +sonorous voice cried: “Good day to you. How is your invalid?” + +Pentaur was soon standing by Uarda; pleased to hear Nebsecht’s good +report, and with the sweet face of the girl. He had some flowers in his +hand, that a happy maiden had laid on the altar of the Goddess Hathor, +which he had served since the previous day, and he gave them to the +sick girl, who took them with a blush, and held them between her clasped +hands. + +“The great Goddess whom I serve sends you these,” said Pentaur, “and +they will bring you healing. Continue to resemble them. You are pure and +fair like them, and your course henceforth may be like theirs. As the +sun gives life to the grey horizon, so you bring joy to this dark but. +Preserve your innocence, and wherever you go you will bring love, as +flowers spring in every spot that is trodden by the golden foot of +Hathor. + + [Hathor is frequently called “the golden,” particularly at Dendera + She has much in common with the “golden Aphrodite.”] + +May her blessing rest upon you!” + +He had spoken the last words half to the old couple and half to Uarda, +and was already turning to depart when, behind a heap of dried reeds +that lay close to the awning over the girl, the bitter cry of a child +was heard, and a little boy came forward who held, as high as he could +reach, a little cake, of which the dog, who seemed to know him well, had +snatched half. + +“How do you come here, Scherau?” the paraschites asked the weeping boy; +the unfortunate child that Hekt was bringing up as a dwarf. + +“I wanted,” sobbed the little one, “to bring the cake to Uarda. She is +ill--I had so much--” + +“Poor child,” said the paraschites, stroking the boy’s hair; “there-give +it to Uarda.” + +Scherau went up to the sick girl, knelt down by her, and whispered with +streaming eyes: + +“Take it! It is good, and very sweet, and if I get another cake, and +Hekt will let me out, I will bring it to you. + +“Thank you, good little Scherau,” said Uarda, kissing the child. Then +she turned to Pentaur and said: + +“For weeks he has had nothing but papyrus-pith, and lotus-bread, and now +he brings me the cake which grandmother gave old Hekt yesterday.” + +The child blushed all over, and stammered: + +“It is only half--but I did not touch it. Your dog bit out this piece, +and this.” + +He touched the honey with the tip of his finger, and put it to his lips. +“I was a long time behind the reeds there, for I did not like to come +out because of the strangers there.” He pointed to Nebsecht and Pentaur. +“But now I must go home,” he cried. + +The child was going, but Pentaur stopped him, seized him, lifted him up +in his arms and kissed him; saying, as he turned to Nebsecht: + +“They were wise, who represented Horus--the symbol of the triumph of +good over evil and of purity over the impure--in the form of a child. +Bless you, my little friend; be good, and always give away what you have +to make others happy. It will not make your house rich--but it will your +heart!” + +Scherau clung to the priest, and involuntarily raised his little hand +to stroke Pentaur’s cheek. An unknown tenderness had filled his little +heart, and he felt as if he must throw his arms round the poet’s neck +and cry upon his breast. + +But Pentaur set him down on the ground, and he trotted down into the +valley. There he paused. The sun was high in the heavens, and he must +return to the witch’s cave and his board, but he would so much like to +go a little farther--only as far as to the king’s tomb, which was quite +near. + +Close by the door of this tomb was a thatch of palm-branches, and under +this the sculptor Batau, a very aged man, was accustomed to rest. The +old man was deaf, but he passed for the best artist of his time, and +with justice; he had designed the beautiful pictures and hieroglyphic +inscriptions in Seti’s splendid buildings at Abydos and Thebes, as well +as in the tomb of that prince, and he was now working at the decoration +of the walls in the grave of Rameses. + +Scherau had often crept close up to him, and thoughtfully watched him at +work, and then tried himself to make animal and human figures out of a +bit of clay. + +One day the old man had observed him. + +The sculptor had silently taken his humble attempt out of his hand, and +had returned it to him with a smile of encouragement. + +From that time a peculiar tie had sprung up between the two. Scherau +would venture to sit down by the sculptor, and try to imitate his +finished images. Not a word was exchanged between them, but often +the deaf old man would destroy the boy’s works, often on the contrary +improve them with a touch of his own hand, and not seldom nod at him to +encourage him. + +When he staid away the old man missed his pupil, and Scherau’s happiest +hours were those which he passed at his side. + +He was not forbidden to take some clay home with him. There, when the +old woman’s back was turned, he moulded a variety of images which he +destroyed as soon as they were finished. + +While he lay on his rack his hands were left free, and he tried to +reproduce the various forms which lived in his imagination, he forgot +the present in his artistic attempts, and his bitter lot acquired a +flavor of the sweetest enjoyment. + +But to-day it was too late; he must give up his visit to the tomb of +Rameses. + +Once more he looked back at the hut, and then hurried into the dark +cave. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +Pentauer also soon quitted the but of the paraschites. + +Lost in meditation, he went along the hill-path which led to the temple +which Ameni had put under his direction. + + [This temple is well proportioned, and remains in good preservation. + Copies of the interesting pictures discovered in it are to be found + in the “Fleet of an Egyptian queen” by Dutnichen. Other details may + be found in Lepsius’ Monuments of Egypt, and a plan of the place has + recently been published by Mariette.] + +He foresaw many disturbed and anxious hours in the immediate future. + +The sanctuary of which he was the superior, had been dedicated to her +own memory, and to the goddess Hathor, by Hatasu, + + [The daughter of Thotmes I., wife of her brother Thotmes II., and + predecessor of her second brother Thotmes III. An energetic woman + who executed great works, and caused herself to be represented with + the helmet and beard-case of a man.] + +a great queen of the dethroned dynasty. + +The priests who served it were endowed with peculiar chartered +privileges, which hitherto had been strictly respected. Their dignity +was hereditary, going down from father to son, and they had the right of +choosing their director from among themselves. + +Now their chief priest Rui was ill and dying, and Ameni, under whose +jurisdiction they came, had, without consulting them, sent the young +poet Pentaur to fill his place. + +They had received the intruder most unwillingly, and combined strongly +against him when it became evident that he was disposed to establish +a severe rule and to abolish many abuses which had become established +customs. + +They had devolved the greeting of the rising sun on the temple-servants; +Pentaur required that the younger ones at least should take part +in chanting the morning hymn, and himself led the choir. They had +trafficked with the offerings laid on the altar of the Goddess; the new +master repressed this abuse, as well as the extortions of which they +were guilty towards women in sorrow, who visited the temple of Hathor in +greater number than any other sanctuary. + +The poet-brought up in the temple of Seti to self-control, order, +exactitude, and decent customs, deeply penetrated with a sense of the +dignity of his position, and accustomed to struggle with special zeal +against indolence of body and spirit--was disgusted with the slothful +life and fraudulent dealings of his subordinates; and the deeper insight +which yesterday’s experience had given him into the poverty and sorrow +of human existence, made him resolve with increased warmth that he would +awake them to a new life. + +The conviction that the lazy herd whom he commanded was called upon to +pour consolation into a thousand sorrowing hearts, to dry innumerable +tears, and to clothe the dry sticks of despair with the fresh verdure of +hope, urged him to strong measures. + +Yesterday he had seen how, with calm indifference, they had listened to +the deserted wife, the betrayed maiden, to the woman, who implored +the withheld blessing of children, to the anxious mother, the forlorn +widow,--and sought only to take advantage of sorrow, to extort gifts for +the Goddess, or better still for their own pockets or belly. + +Now he was nearing the scene of his new labors. + +There stood the reverend building, rising stately from the valley on +four terraces handsomely and singularly divided, and resting on the +western side against the high amphitheatre of yellow cliffs. + +On the closely-joined foundation stones gigantic hawks were carved in +relief, each with the emblem of life, and symbolized Horus, the son of +the Goddess, who brings all that fades to fresh bloom, and all that dies +to resurrection. + +On each terrace stood a hall open to the east, and supported on two and +twenty archaic pillars. + + [Polygonal pillars, which were used first in tomb-building under the + 12th dynasty, and after the expulsion of the Hyksos under the kings + of the 17th and 18th, in public buildings; but under the subsequent + races of kings they ceased to be employed.] + +On their inner walls elegant pictures and inscriptions in the finest +sculptured work recorded, for the benefit of posterity, the great things +that Hatasu had done with the help of the Gods of Thebes. + +There were the ships which she had to send to Punt + + [Arabia; apparently also the coast of east Africa south of Egypt as + far as Somali. The latest of the lists published by Mariette, of + the southern nations conquered by Thotmes III., mentions it. This + list was found on the pylon of the temple of Karnak.] + +to enrich Egypt with the treasures of the east; there the wonders +brought to Thebes from Arabia might be seen; there were delineated +the houses of the inhabitants of the land of frankincense, and all the +fishes of the Red Sea, in distinct and characteristic outline. + +On the third and fourth terraces were the small adjoining rooms of +Hatasu and her brothers Thotmes II. and III., which were built against +the rock, and entered by granite doorways. In them purifications +were accomplished, the images of the Goddess worshipped, and the more +distinguished worshippers admitted to confess. The sacred cows of the +Goddess were kept in a side-building. + +As Pentaur approached the great gate of the terrace-temple, he became +the witness of a scene which filled him with resentment. + +A woman implored to be admitted into the forecourt, to pray at the +altar of the Goddess for her husband, who was very ill, but the sleek +gate-keeper drove her back with rough words. + +“It is written up,” said he, pointing to the inscription over the gate, +“only the purified may set their foot across this threshold, and you +cannot be purified but by the smoke of incense.” + +“Then swing the censer for me,” said the woman, and take this silver +ring--it is all I have.” + +“A silver ring!” cried the porter, indignantly. “Shall the goddess be +impoverished for your sake! The grains of Anta, that would be used in +purifying you, would cost ten times as much.” + +“But I have no more,” replied the woman, “my husband, for whom I come to +pray, is ill; he cannot work, and my children--” + +“You fatten them up and deprive the goddess of her due,” cried the +gate-keeper. “Three rings down, or I shut the gate.” + +“Be merciful,” said the woman, weeping. “What will become of us if +Hathor does not help my husband?” + +“Will our goddess fetch the doctor?” asked the porter. “She has +something to do besides curing sick starvelings. Besides, that is not +her office. Go to Imhotep or to Chunsu the counsellor, or to the great +Techuti herself, who helps the sick. There is no quack medicine to be +got here.” + +“I only want comfort in my trouble,” said the woman. + +“Comfort!” laughed the gate-keeper, measuring the comely young woman +with his eye. “That you may have cheaper.” + +The woman turned pale, and drew back from the hand the man stretched out +towards her. + +At this moment Pentaur, full of wrath, stepped between them. + +He raised his hand in blessing over the woman, who bent low before him, +and said, “Whoever calls fervently on the Divinity is near to him. You +are pure. Enter.” + +As soon as she had disappeared within the temple, the priest turned to +the gate-keeper and exclaimed: “Is this how you serve the goddess, is +this how you take advantage of a heart-wrung woman? Give me the keys of +this gate. Your office is taken from you, and early to-morrow you go out +in the fields, and keep the geese of Hathor.” + +The porter threw himself on his knees with loud outcries; but Pentaur +turned his back upon him, entered the sanctuary, and mounted the steps +which led to his dwelling on the third terrace. + +A few priests whom he passed turned their backs upon him, others looked +down at their dinners, eating noisily, and making as if they did not +see him. They had combined strongly, and were determined to expel the +inconvenient intruder at any price. + +Having reached his room, which had been splendidly decorated for his +predecessor, Pentaur laid aside his new insignia, comparing sorrowfully +the past and the present. + +To what an exchange Ameni had condemned him! Here, wherever he looked, +he met with sulkiness and aversion; while, when he walked through the +courts of the House of Seti, a hundred boys would hurry towards him, and +cling affectionately to his robe. Honored there by great and small, his +every word had had its value; and when each day he gave utterance to his +thoughts, what he bestowed came back to him refined by earnest discourse +with his associates and superiors, and he gained new treasures for his +inner life. + +“What is rare,” thought he, “is full of charm; and yet how hard it is +to do without what is habitual!” The occurrences of the last few days +passed before his mental sight. Bent-Anat’s image appeared before him, +and took a more and more distinct and captivating form. His heart began +to beat wildly, the blood rushed faster through his veins; he hid his +face in his hands, and recalled every glance, every word from her lips. + +“I follow thee willingly,” she had said to him before the hut of the +paraschites. Now he asked himself whether he were worthy of such a +follower. + +He had indeed broken through the old bonds, but not to disgrace the +house that was dear to him, only to let new light into its dim chambers. + +“To do what we have earnestly felt to be right,” said he to himself, +“may seem worthy of punishment to men, but cannot before God.” + +He sighed and walked out into the terrace in a mood of lofty excitement, +and fully resolved to do here nothing but what was right, to lay the +foundation of all that was good. + +“We men,” thought he, “prepare sorrow when we come into the world, and +lamentation when we leave it; and so it is our duty in the intermediate +time to fight with suffering, and to sow the seeds of joy. There are +many tears here to be wiped away. To work then!” The poet found none of +his subordinates on the upper terrace. They had all met in the forecourt +of the temple, and were listening to the gate-keeper’s tale, and seemed +to sympathize with his angry complaint--against whom Pentaur well knew. + +With a firm step he went towards them and said: + +“I have expelled this man from among us, for he is a disgrace to us. +To-morrow he quits the temple.” + +“I will go at once,” replied the gate-keeper defiantly, “and in behalf +of the holy fathers (here he cast a significant glance at the priests), +ask the high-priest Ameni if the unclean are henceforth to be permitted +to enter this sanctuary.” + +He was already approaching the gate, but Pentaur stepped before him, +saying resolutely: + +“You will remain here and keep the geese to-morrow, day after to-morrow, +and until I choose to pardon you.” The gate-keeper looked enquiringly at +the priests. Not one moved. + +“Go back into your house,” said Pentaur, going closer to him. + +The porter obeyed. + +Pentaur locked the door of the little room, gave the key to one of the +temple-servants, and said: “Perform his duty, watch the man, and if he +escapes you will go after the geese to-morrow too. See, my friends, +how many worshippers kneel there before our altars--go and fulfil your +office. I will wait in the confessional to receive complaints, and to +administer comfort.” + +The priests separated and went to the votaries. Pentaur once more +mounted the steps, and sat down in the narrow confessional which was +closed by a curtain; on its wall the picture of Hatasu was to be seen, +drawing the milk of eternal life from the udders of the cow Hathor. + +He had hardly taken his place when a temple-servant announced the +arrival of a veiled lady. The bearers of her litter were thickly veiled, +and she had requested to be conducted to the confession chamber. The +servant handed Pentaur a token by which the high-priest of the great +temple of Anion, on the other bank of the Nile, granted her the +privilege of entering the inner rooms of the temple with the Rechiu, and +to communicate with all priests, even with the highest of the initiated. + +The poet withdrew behind a curtain, and awaited the stranger with a +disquiet that seemed to him all the more singular that he had frequently +found himself in a similar position. Even the noblest dignitaries had +often been transferred to him by Ameni when they had come to the temple +to have their visions interpreted. + +A tall female figure entered the still, sultry stone room, sank on +her knees, and put up a long and absorbed prayer before the figure of +Hathor. Pentaur also, seen by no one, lifted his hands, and fervently +addressed himself to the omnipresent spirit with a prayer for strength +and purity. + +Just as his arms fell the lady raised her head. It was as though the +prayers of the two souls had united to mount upwards together. + +The veiled lady rose and dropped her veil. + +It was Bent-Anat. + +In the agitation of her soul she had sought the goddess Hathor, who +guides the beating heart of woman and spins the threads which bind man +and wife. + +“High mistress of heaven! many-named and beautiful!” she began to pray +aloud, “golden Hathor! who knowest grief and ecstasy--the present and +the future--draw near to thy child, and guide the spirit of thy servant, +that he may advise me well. I am the daughter of a father who is great +and noble and truthful as one of the Gods. He advises me--he will never +compel me--to yield to a man whom I can never love. Nay, another has met +me, humble in birth but noble in spirit and in gifts--” + +Thus far, Pentaur, incapable of speech, had overheard the princess. + +Ought he to remain concealed and hear all her secret, or should he step +forth and show himself to her? His pride called loudly to him: “Now +she will speak your name; you are the chosen one of the fairest and +noblest.” But another voice to which he had accustomed himself to listen +in severe self-discipline made itself heard, and said--“Let her say +nothing in ignorance, that she need be ashamed of if she knew.” + +He blushed for her;--he opened the curtain and went forward into the +presence of Bent-Anat. + +The Princess drew back startled. + +“Art thou Pentaur,” she asked, “or one of the Immortals?” + +“I am Pentaur,” he answered firmly, “a man with all the weakness of his +race, but with a desire for what is good. Linger here and pour out thy +soul to our Goddess; my whole life shall be a prayer for thee.” + +The poet looked full at her; then he turned quickly, as if to avoid a +danger, towards the door of the confessional. + +Bent-Anat called his name, and he stayed his steps: + +“The daughter of Rameses,” she said, “need offer no justification of +her appearance here, but the maiden Bent-Anat,” and she colored as she +spoke, “expected to find, not thee, but the old priest Rui, and she +desired his advice. Now leave me to pray.” + +Bent-Anat sank on her knees, and Pentaur went out into the open air. + +When the princess too had left the confessional, loud voices were heard +on the south side of the terrace on which they stood. + +She hastened towards the parapet. + +“Hail to Pentaur!” was shouted up from below. The poet rushed forward, +and placed himself near the princess. Both looked down into the valley, +and could be seen by all. + +“Hail, hail! Pentaur,” was called doubly loud, “Hail to our teacher! +come back to the House of Seti. Down with the persecutors of +Pentaur--down with our oppressors!” + +At the head of the youths, who, so soon as they had found out whither +the poet had been exiled, had escaped to tell him that they were +faithful to him, stood the prince Rameri, who nodded triumphantly to +his sister, and Anana stepped forward to inform the honored teacher in a +solemn and well-studied speech, that, in the event of Ameni refusing to +recall him, they had decided requesting their fathers to place them at +another school. + +The young sage spoke well, and Bent-Anat followed his words, not without +approbation; but Pentaur’s face grew darker, and before his favorite +disciple had ended his speech he interrupted him sternly. + +His voice was at first reproachful, and then complaining, and loud as he +spoke, only sorrow rang in his tones, and not anger. + +“In truth,” he concluded, “every word that I have spoken to you I could +but find it in me to regret, if it has contributed to encourage you to +this mad act. You were born in palaces; learn to obey, that later you +may know how to command. Back to your school! You hesitate? Then I will +come out against you with the watchman, and drive you back, for you do +me and yourselves small honor by such a proof of affection. Go back to +the school you belong to.” + +The school-boys dared make no answer, but surprised and disenchanted +turned to go home. + +Bent-Anat cast down her eyes as she met those of her brother, +who shrugged his shoulders, and then she looked half shyly, half +respectfully, at the poet; but soon again her eyes turned to the plain +below, for thick dust-clouds whirled across it, the sound of hoofs and +the rattle of wheels became audible, and at the same moment the chariot +of Septah, the chief haruspex, and a vehicle with the heavily-armed +guard of the House of Seti, stopped near the terrace. + +The angry old man sprang quickly to the ground, called the host of +escaped pupils to him in a stern voice, ordered the guard to drive them +back to the school, and hurried up to the temple gates like a vigorous +youth. The priests received him with the deepest reverence, and at once +laid their complaints before him. + +He heard them willingly, but did not let them discuss the matter; then, +though with some difficulty, he quickly mounted the steps, down which +Bent-Anat came towards him. + +The princess felt that she would divert all the blame and +misunderstanding to herself, if Septah recognized her; her hand +involuntarily reached for her veil, but she drew it back quickly, looked +with quiet dignity into the old man’s eyes, which flashed with anger, +and proudly passed by him. The haruspex bowed, but without giving her +his blessing, and when he met Pentaur on the second terrace, ordered +that the temple should be cleared of worshippers. + +This was done in a few minutes, and the priests were witnesses of +the most painful, scene which had occurred for years in their quiet +sanctuary. + +The head of the haruspices of the House of Seti was the most determined +adversary of the poet who had so early been initiated into the +mysteries, and whose keen intellect often shook those very ramparts +which the zealous old man had, from conviction, labored to strengthen +from his youth up. The vexatious occurrences, of which he had been a +witness at the House of Seti, and here also but a few minutes since, he +regarded as the consequence of the unbridled license of an ill-regulated +imagination, and in stern language he called Pentaur to account for the +“revolt” of the school-boys. + +“And besides our boys,” he exclaimed, “you have led the daughter of +Rameses astray. She was not yet purged of her uncleanness, and yet you +tempt her to an assignation, not even in the stranger’s quarters--but in +the holy house of this pure Divinity.” Undeserved praise is dangerous +to the weak; unjust blame may turn even the strong from the right way. +Pentaur indignantly repelled the accusations of the old man, called them +unworthy of his age, his position, and his name, and for fear that +his anger might carry him too far, turned his back upon him; but the +haruspex ordered him to remain, and in his presence questioned the +priests, who unanimously accused the poet of having admitted to the +temple another unpurified woman besides Bent-Anat, and of having +expelled the gate-keeper and thrown him into prison for opposing the +crime. + +The haruspex ordered that the “ill-used man” should be set at liberty. + +Pentaur resisted this command, asserted his right to govern in this +temple, and with a trembling voice requested Septah to quit the place. + +The haruspex showed him Ameni’s ring, by which, during his residence +in Thebes, he made him his plenipotentiary, degraded Pentaur from his +dignity, but ordered him not to quit the sanctuary till further notice, +and then finally departed from the temple of Hatasu. + +Pentaur had yielded in silence to the signet of his chief, and returned +to the confessional in which he had met Bent-Anat. He felt his soul +shaken to its very foundations, his thoughts were confused, his feelings +struggling with each other; he shivered, and when he heard the laughter +of the priests and the gatekeeper, who were triumphing in their easy +victory, he started and shuddered like a man who in passing a mirror +should see a brand of disgrace on his brow. + +But by degrees he recovered himself, his spirit grew clearer, and when +he left the little room to look towards the east--where, on the farther +shore, rose the palace where Bent-Anat must be--a deep contempt for his +enemies filled his soul, and a proud feeling of renewed manly energy. +He did not conceal from himself that he had enemies; that a time of +struggle was beginning for him; but he looked forward to it like a young +hero to the morning of his first battle. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +The afternoon shadows were already growing long, when a splendid chariot +drew up to the gates of the terrace-temple. Paaker, the chief pioneer, +stood up in it, driving his handsome and fiery Syrian horses. Behind him +stood an Ethiopian slave, and his big dog followed the swift team with +his tongue out. + +As he approached the temple he heard himself called, and checked the +pace of his horses. A tiny man hurried up to him, and, as soon as he had +recognized in him the dwarf Nemu, he cried angrily: + +“Is it for you, you rascal, that I stop my drive? What do you want?” + +“To crave,” said the little man, bowing humbly, “that, when thy business +in the city of the dead is finished, thou wilt carry me back to Thebes.” + +“You are Mena’s dwarf?” asked the pioneer. + +“By no means,” replied Nemu. “I belong to his neglected wife, the lady +Nefert. I can only cover the road very slowly with my little legs, while +the hoofs of your horses devour the way-as a crocodile does his prey.” + +“Get up!” said Paaker. “Did you come here on foot?” + +“No, my lord,” replied Nemu, “on an ass; but a demon entered into the +beast, and has struck it with sickness. I had to leave it on the road. +The beasts of Anubis will have a better supper than we to-night.” + +“Things are not done handsomely then at your mistress’s house?” asked +Paaker. + +“We still have bread,” replied Nemu, “and the Nile is full of water. +Much meat is not necessary for women and dwarfs, but our last cattle +take a form which is too hard for human teeth.” + +The pioneer did not understand the joke, and looked enquiringly at the +dwarf. + +“The form of money,” said the little man, “and that cannot be chewed; +soon that will be gone too, and then the point will be to find a recipe +for making nutritious cakes out of earth, water, and palm-leaves. It +makes very little difference to me, a dwarf does not need much--but the +poor tender lady!” + +Paaker touched his horses with such a violent stroke of his whip that +they reared high, and it took all his strength to control their spirit. + +“The horses’ jaws will be broken,” muttered the slave behind. “What a +shame with such fine beasts!” + +“Have you to pay for them?” growled Paaker. Then he turned again to the +dwarf, and asked: + +“Why does Mena let the ladies want?” + +“He no longer cares for his wife,” replied the dwarf, casting his eyes +down sadly. “At the last division of the spoil he passed by the gold and +silver; and took a foreign woman into his tent. Evil demons have blinded +him, for where is there a woman fairer than Nefert?” + +“You love your mistress.” + +“As my very eyes!” + +During this conversation they had arrived at the terrace-temple. Paaker +threw the reins to the slave, ordered him to wait with Nemu, and turned +to the gate-keeper to explain to him, with the help of a handful of +gold, his desire of being conducted to Pentaur, the chief of the temple. + +The gate-keeper, swinging a censer before him with a hasty action, +admitted him into the sanctuary. “You will find him on the third +terrace,” he said, “but he is no longer our superior.” + +“They said so in the temple of Seti, whence I have just come,” replied +Paaker. + +The porter shrugged his shoulders with a sneer, and said: “The palm-tree +that is quickly set up falls down more quickly still.” Then he desired a +servant to conduct the stranger to Pentaur. + +The poet recognized the Mohar at once, asked his will, and learned that +he was come to have a wonderful vision interpreted by him. + +Paaker explained before relating his dream, that he did not ask this +service for nothing; and when the priest’s countenance darkened he +added: + +“I will send a fine beast for sacrifice to the Goddess if the +interpretation is favorable.” + +“And in the opposite case?” asked Pentaur, who, in the House of Seti, +never would have anything whatever to do with the payments of the +worshippers or the offerings of the devout. + +“I will offer a sheep,” replied Paaker, who did not perceive the subtle +irony that lurked in Pentaur’s words, and who was accustomed to pay for +the gifts of the Divinity in proportion to their value to himself. + +Pentaur thought of the verdict which Gagabu, only two evenings since, +had passed on the Mohar, and it occurred to him that he would test +how far the man’s superstition would lead him. So he asked, while he +suppressed a smile: + +“And if I can foretell nothing bad, but also nothing actually good?”-- + +“An antelope, and four geese,” answered Paaker promptly. + +“But if I were altogether disinclined to put myself at your service?” + asked Pentaur. “If I thought it unworthy of a priest to let the Gods +be paid in proportion to their favors towards a particular person, like +corrupt officials; if I now showed you--you--and I have known you from +a school-boy, that there are things that cannot be bought with inherited +wealth?” + +The pioneer drew back astonished and angry, but Pentaur continued +calmly-- + +“I stand here as the minister of the Divinity; and nevertheless, I see +by your countenance, that you were on the point of lowering yourself by +showing to me your violent and extortionate spirit. + +“The Immortals send us dreams, not to give us a foretaste of joy or +caution us against danger, but to remind us so to prepare our souls +that we may submit quietly to suffer evil, and with heartfelt gratitude +accept the good; and so gain from each profit for the inner life. I will +not interpret your dream! Come without gifts, but with a humble heart, +and with longing for inward purification, and I will pray to the Gods +that they may enlighten me, and give you such interpretation of even +evil dreams that they may be fruitful in blessing. + +“Leave me, and quit the temple!” + +Paaker ground his teeth with rage; but he controlled himself, and only +said as he slowly withdrew: + +“If your office had not already been taken from you, the insolence with +which you have dismissed me might have cost you your place. We shall +meet again, and then you shall learn that inherited wealth in the right +hand is worth more than you will like.” + +“Another enemy!” thought the poet, when he found himself alone and stood +erect in the glad consciousness of having done right. + +During Paaker’s interview with the poet, the dwarf Nemu had chatted to +the porter, and had learned from him all that had previously occurred. + +Paaker mounted his chariot pale with rage, and whipped on his horses +before the dwarf had clambered up the step; but the slave seized the +little man, and set him carefully on his feet behind his master. + +“The villian, the scoundrel! he shall repent it--Pentaur is he called! +the hound!” muttered the pioneer to himself. + +The dwarf lost none of his words, and when he caught the name of Pentaur +he called to the pioneer, and said-- + +“They have appointed a scoundrel to be the superior of this temple; +his name is Pentaur. He was expelled from the temple of Seti for his +immorality, and now he has stirred up the younger scholars to rebellion, +and invited unclean women into the temple. My lips hardly dare repeat +it, but the gate-keeper swore it was true--that the chief haruspex from +the House of Seti found him in conference with Bent-Anat, the king’s +daughter, and at once deprived him of his office.” + +“With Bent-Anat?” replied the pioneer, and muttered, before the dwarf +could find time to answer, “Indeed, with Bent-Anat!” and he recalled the +day before yesterday, when the princess had remained so long with the +priest in the hovel of the paraschites, while he had talked to Nefert +and visited the old witch. + +“I should not care to be in the priest’s skin,” observed Nemu, “for +though Rameses is far away, the Regent Ani is near enough. He is a +gentleman who seldom pounces, but even the dove won’t allow itself to be +attacked in is own nest.” + +Paaker looked enquiringly at Nemu. + +“I know,” said the dwarf “Ani has asked Rameses’ consent to marry his +daughter.” + +“He has already asked it,” continued the dwarf as Paaker smiled +incredulously, “and the king is not disinclined to give it. He likes +making marriages--as thou must know pretty well.” + +“I?” said Paaker, surprised. + +“He forced Katuti to give her daughter as wife to the charioteer. That I +know from herself. She can prove it to thee.” + +Paaker shook his head in denial, but the dwarf continued eagerly, “Yes, +yes! Katuti would have had thee for her son-in-law, and it was the king, +not she, who broke off the betrothal. Thou must at the same time have +been inscribed in the black books of the high gate, for Rameses used +many hard names for thee. One of us is like a mouse behind the curtain, +which knows a good deal.” + +Paaker suddenly brought his horses to a stand-still, threw the reins to +the slave, sprang from the chariot, called the dwarf to his side, and +said: + +“We will walk from here to the river, and you shall tell me all you +know; but if an untrue word passes your lips I will have you eaten by my +dogs.” + +“I know thou canst keep thy word,” gasped the little man. “But go a +little slower if thou wilt, for I am quite out of breath. Let Katuti +herself tell thee how it all came about. Rameses compelled her to give +her daughter to the charioteer. I do not know what he said of thee, but +it was not complimentary. My poor mistress! she let herself be caught +by the dandy, the ladies’ man-and now she may weep and wail. When I pass +the great gates of thy house with Katuti, she often sighs and complains +bitterly. And with good reason, for it soon will be all over with our +noble estate, and we must seek an asylum far away among the Amu in the +low lands; for the nobles will soon avoid us as outcasts. Thou mayst be +glad that thou hast not linked thy fate to ours; but I have a faithful +heart, and will share my mistress’s trouble.” + +“You speak riddles,” said Paaker, “what have they to fear?” + +The dwarf now related how Nefert’s brother had gambled away the mummy of +his father, how enormous was the sum he had lost, and that degradation +must overtake Katuti, and her daughter with her. + +“Who can save them,” he whimpered. “Her shameless husband squanders his +inheritance and his prize-money. Katuti is poor, and the little words +‘Give me!’ scare away friends as the cry of a hawk scares the chickens. +My poor mistress!” + +“It is a large sum,” muttered Paaker to himself. “It is enormous!” + sighed the dwarf, “and where is it to be found in these hard times? It +would have been different with us, if--ah if--. And it would be a form +of madness which I do not believe in, that Nefert should still care for +her braggart husband. She thinks as much of thee as of him.” + +Paaker looked at the dwarf half incredulous and half threatening. + +“Ay--of thee,” repeated Nemu. “Since our excursion to the Necropolis +the day before yesterday it was--she speaks only of thee, praising thy +ability, and thy strong manly spirit. It is as if some charm obliged her +to think of thee.” + +The pioneer began to walk so fast that his small companion once more had +to ask him to moderate his steps. + +They gained the shore in silence, where Paaker’s boat was waiting, which +also conveyed his chariot. He lay down in the little cabin, called the +dwarf to him, and said: + +“I am Katuti’s nearest relative; we are now reconciled; why does she not +turn to me in her difficulty?” + +“Because she is proud, and thy blood flows in her veins. Sooner would +she die with her child--she said so--than ask thee, against whom she +sinned, for an ‘alms’.” + +“She did think of me then?” + +“At once; nor did she doubt thy generosity. She esteems thee highly--I +repeat it; and if an arrow from a Cheta’s bow or a visitation of the +Gods attained Mena, she would joyfully place her child in thine arms, +and Nefert believe me has not forgotten her playfellow. The day before +yesterday, when she came home from the Necropolis, and before the letter +had come from the camp, she was full of thee-- + + [“To be full (meh) of any one” is used in the Egyptian language for + “to be in love with any one.”] + +nay called to thee in her dreams; I know it from Kandake, her black +maid.” The pioneer looked down and said: + +“How extraordinary! and the same night I had a vision in which your +mistress appeared to me; the insolent priest in the temple of Hathor +should have interpreted it to me.” + +“And he refused? the fool! but other folks understand dreams, and I +am not the worst of them--Ask thy servant. Ninety-nine times out of a +hundred my interpretations come true. How was the vision?” + +“I stood by the Nile,” said Paaker, casting down his eyes and drawing +lines with his whip through the wool of the cabin rug. “The water was +still, and I saw Nefert standing on the farther bank, and beckoning to +me. I called to her, and she stepped on the water, which bore her up as +if it were this carpet. She went over the water dry-foot as if it were +the stony wilderness. A wonderful sight! She came nearer to me, and +nearer, and already I had tried to take her hand, when she ducked under +like a swan. I went into the water to seize her, and when she came +up again I clasped her in my arms; but then the strangest thing +happened--she flowed away, she dissolved like the snow on the Syrian +hills, when you take it in your hand, and yet it was not the same, for +her hair turned to water-lilies, and her eyes to blue fishes that swam +away merrily, and her lips to twigs of coral that sank at once, and +from her body grew a crocodile, with a head like Mena, that laughed +and gnashed its teeth at me. Then I was seized with blind fury; I threw +myself upon him with a drawn sword, he fastened his teeth in my flesh, I +pierced his throat with my weapon; the Nile was dark with our streaming +blood, and so we fought and fought--it lasted an eternity--till I +awoke.” + +Paaker drew a deep breath as he ceased speaking; as if his wild dream +tormented him again. + +The dwarf had listened with eager attention, but several minutes passed +before he spoke. + +“A strange dream,” he said, “but the interpretation as to the future +is not hard to find. Nefert is striving to reach thee, she longs to be +thine, but if thou dost fancy that she is already in thy grasp she will +elude thee; thy hopes will melt like ice, slip away like sand, if thou +dost not know how to put the crocodile out of the way.” + +At this moment the boat struck the landing-place. The pioneer started +up, and cried, “We have reached the end!” + +“We have reached the end,” echoed the little man with meaning. “There is +only a narrow bridge to step over.” + +When they both stood on the shore, the dwarf said, + +“I have to thank thee for thy hospitality, and when I can serve thee +command me.” + +“Come here,” cried the pioneer, and drew Nemu away with him under the +shade of a sycamore veiled in the half light of the departing sun. + +“What do you mean by a bridge which we must step over? I do not +understand the flowers of speech, and desire plain language.” + +The dwarf reflected for a moment; and then asked, “Shall I say nakedly +and openly what I mean, and will you not be angry?” + +“Speak!” + +“Mena is the crocodile. Put him out of the world, and you will have +passed the bridge; then Nefert will be thine--if thou wilt listen to +me.” + +“What shall I do?” + +“Put the charioteer out of the world.” + +Paaker’s gesture seemed to convey that that was a thing that had long +been decided on, and he turned his face, for a good omen, so that the +rising moon should be on his right hand. + +The dwarf went on. + +“Secure Nefert, so that she may not vanish like her image in the dream, +before you reach the goal; that is to say, ransom the honor of your +future mother and wife, for how could you take an outcast into your +house?” + +Paaker looked thoughtfully at the ground. + +“May I inform my mistress that thou wilt save her?” asked Nemu. “I +may?--Then all will be well, for he who will devote a fortune to love +will not hesitate to devote a reed lance with a brass point to it to his +love and his hatred together.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +The sun had set, and darkness covered the City of the Dead, but the moon +shone above the valley of the kings’ tombs, and the projecting masses +of the rocky walls of the chasm threw sharply-defined shadows. A weird +silence lay upon the desert, where yet far more life was stirring than +in the noonday hour, for now bats darted like black silken threads +through the night air, owls hovered aloft on wide-spread wings, small +troops of jackals slipped by, one following the other up the mountain +slopes. From time to time their hideous yell, or the whining laugh of +the hyena, broke the stillness of the night. + +Nor was human life yet at rest in the valley of tombs. A faint light +glimmered in the cave of the sorceress Hekt, and in front of the +paraschites’ but a fire was burning, which the grandmother of the sick +Uarda now and then fed with pieces of dry manure. Two men were seated in +front of the hut, and gazed in silence on the thin flame, whose impure +light was almost quenched by the clearer glow of the moon; whilst the +third, Uarda’s father, disembowelled a large ram, whose head he had +already cut off. + +“How the jackals howl!” said the old paraschites, drawing as he spoke +the torn brown cotton cloth, which he had put on as a protection against +the night air and the dew, closer round his bare shoulders. + +“They scent the fresh meat,” answered the physician, Nebsecht. “Throw +them the entrails, when you have done; the legs and back you can roast. +Be careful how you cut out the heart--the heart, soldier. There it is! +What a great beast.” + +Nebsecht took the ram’s heart in his hand, and gazed at it with the +deepest attention, whilst the old paraschites watched him anxiously. At +length: + +“I promised,” he said, “to do for you what you wish, if you restore the +little one to health; but you ask for what is impossible.” + +“Impossible?” said the physician, “why, impossible? You open the +corpses, you go in and out of the house of the embalmer. Get possession +of one of the canopi, + + [Vases of clay, limestone, or alabaster, which were used for the + preservation of the intestines of the embalmed Egyptians, and + represented the four genii of death, Amset, Hapi, Tuamutef, and + Khebsennuf. Instead of the cover, the head of the genius to which + it was dedicated, was placed on each kanopus. Amset (tinder the + protection of Isis) has a human head, Hapi (protected by Nephthys) + an ape’s head, Tuamutef (protected by Neith) a jackal’s head, and + Khebsennuf (protected by Selk) a sparrow-hawk’s head. In one of the + Christian Coptic Manuscripts, the four archangels are invoked in the + place of these genii.] + +lay this heart in it, and take out in its stead the heart of a human +being. No one--no one will notice it. Nor need you do it to-morrow, or +the day after tomorrow even. Your son can buy a ram to kill every day +with my money till the right moment comes. Your granddaughter will soon +grow strong on a good meat-diet. Take courage!” + +“I am not afraid of the danger,” said the old man, “but how can I +venture to steal from a dead man his life in the other world? And +then--in shame and misery have I lived, and for many a year--no man +has numbered them for me--have I obeyed the commandments, that I may be +found righteous in that world to come, and in the fields of Aalu, and +in the Sun-bark find compensation for all that I have suffered here. You +are good and friendly. Why, for the sake of a whim, should you sacrifice +the future bliss of a man, who in all his long life has never known +happiness, and who has never done you any harm?” + +“What I want with the heart,” replied the physician, “you cannot +understand, but in procuring it for me, you will be furthering a great +and useful purpose. I have no whims, for I am no idler. And as to what +concerns your salvation, have no anxiety. I am a priest, and take your +deed and its consequences upon myself; upon myself, do you understand? +I tell you, as a priest, that what I demand of you is right, and if the +judge of the dead shall enquire, ‘Why didst thou take the heart of a +human being out of the Kanopus?’ then reply--reply to him thus, ‘Because +Nebsecht, the priest, commanded me, and promised himself to answer for +the deed.’” + +The old man gazed thoughtfully on the ground, and the physician +continued still more urgently: + +“If you fulfil my wish, then--then I swear to you that, when you die, I +will take care that your mummy is provided with all the amulets, and I +myself will write you a book of the Entrance into Day, and have it wound +within your mummy-cloth, as is done with the great. + + [The Books of the Dead are often found amongst the cloths, (by the + leg or under the arm), or else in the coffin trader, or near, the + mummy.] + +That will give you power over all demons, and you will be admitted to +the hall of the twofold justice, which punishes and rewards, and your +award will be bliss.” + +“But the theft of a heart will make the weight of my sins heavy, when my +own heart is weighed,” sighed the old man. + +Nebsecht considered for a moment, and then said: “I will give you a +written paper, in which I will certify that it was I who commanded the +theft. You will sew it up in a little bag, carry it on your breast, and +have it laid with you in the grave. Then when Techuti, the agent of the +soul, receives your justification before Osiris and the judges of the +dead, give him the writing. He will read it aloud, and you will be +accounted just.” + + [The vignettes of Chapter 125 of the Book of the Dead represent the + Last Judgment of the Egyptians. Under a canopy Osiris sits + enthroned as Chief Judge, 42 assessors assist him. In the hall + stand the scales; the dog headed ape, the animal sacred to Toth, + guides the balance. In one scale lies the heart of the dead man, in + the other the image of the goddess of Truth, who introduces the soul + into the hall of justice Toth writs the record. The soul affirms + that it has not committed 42 deadly sins, and if it obtains credit, + it is named “maa cheru,” i.e. “the truth-speaker,” and is therewith + declared blessed. It now receives its heart back, and grows into a + new and divine life.] + +“I am not learned in writing,” muttered the paraschites with a slight +mistrust that made itself felt in his voice. + +“But I swear to you by the nine great Gods, that I will write nothing +on the paper but what I have promised you. I will confess that I, the +priest Nebsecht, commanded you to take the heart, and that your guilt is +mine.” + +“Let me have the writing then,” murmured the old man. + +The physician wiped the perspiration from his forehead, and gave the +paraschites his hand. “To-morrow you shall have it,” he said, “and I +will not leave your granddaughter till she is well again.” + +The soldier engaged in cutting up the ram, had heard nothing of this +conversation. Now he ran a wooden spit through the legs, and held them +over the fire to roast them. The jackals howled louder as the smell of +the melting fat filled the air, and the old man, as he looked on, forgot +the terrible task he had undertaken. For a year past, no meat had been +tasted in his house. + +The physician Nebsecht, himself eating nothing but a piece of bread, +looked on at the feasters. They tore the meat from the bones, and the +soldier, especially, devoured the costly and unwonted meal like some +ravenous animal. He could be heard chewing like a horse in the manger, +and a feeling of disgust filled the physician’s soul. + +“Sensual beings,” he murmured to himself, “animals with consciousness! +And yet human beings. Strange! They languish bound in the fetters of the +world of sense, and yet how much more ardently they desire that which +transcends sense than we--how much more real it is to them than to us!” + +“Will you have some meat?” cried the soldier, who had remarked that +Nebsecht’s lips moved, and tearing a piece of meat from the bone of the +joint he was devouring, he held it out to the physician. Nebsecht shrank +back; the greedy look, the glistening teeth, the dark, rough features of +the man terrified him. And he thought of the white and fragile form of +the sick girl lying within on the mat, and a question escaped his lips. + +“Is the maiden, is Uarda, your own child?” he said. + +The soldier struck himself on the breast. “So sure as the king Rameses +is the son of Seti,” he answered. The men had finished their meal, and +the flat cakes of bread which the wife of the paraschites gave them, and +on which they had wiped their hands from the fat, were consumed, +when the soldier, in whose slow brain the physician’s question still +lingered, said, sighing deeply: + +“Her mother was a stranger; she laid the white dove in the raven’s +nest.” + +“Of what country was your wife a native?” asked the physician. + +“That I do not know,” replied the soldier. + +“Did you never enquire about the family of your own wife?” + +“Certainly I did: but how could she have answered me? But it is a long +and strange story.” + +“Relate it to me,” said Nebsecht, “the night is long, and I like +listening better than talking. But first I will see after our patient.” + +When the physician had satisfied himself that Uarda was sleeping quietly +and breathing regularly, he seated himself again by the paraschites and +his son, and the soldier began: + +“It all happened long ago. King Seti still lived, but Rameses already +reigned in his stead, when I came home from the north. They had sent me +to the workmen, who were building the fortifications in Zoan, the town +of Rameses.--[The Rameses of the Bible. Exodus i. ii.]--I was set over +six men, Amus,--[Semites]--of the Hebrew race, over whom Rameses kept +such a tight hand. + + [For an account of the traces of the Jews in Egypt, see Chabas, + Melanges, and Ebers, AEgypten und die Bucher Moses] + +Amongst the workmen there were sons of rich cattle-holders, for in +levying the people it was never: ‘What have you?’ but ‘Of what race are +you?’ The fortifications and the canal which was to join the Nile and +the Red Sea had to be completed, and the king, to whom be long life, +health, and prosperity, took the youth of Egypt with him to the wars, +and left the work to the Amus, who are connected by race with his +enemies in the east. One lives well in Goshen, for it is a fine country, +with more than enough of corn and grass and vegetables and fish and +fowls, and I always had of the best, for amongst my six people were two +mother’s darlings, whose parents sent me many a piece of silver. Every +one loves his children, but the Hebrews love them more tenderly than +other people. We had daily our appointed tale of bricks to deliver, and +when the sun burnt hot, I used to help the lads, and I did more in an +hour than they did in three, for I am strong and was still stronger then +than I am now. + +“Then came the time when I was relieved. I was ordered to return to +Thebes, to the prisoners of war who were building the great temple of +Amon over yonder, and as I had brought home some money, and it would +take a good while to finish the great dwelling of the king of the Gods, +I thought of taking a wife; but no Egyptian. Of daughters of paraschites +there were plenty; but I wanted to get away out of my father’s +accursed caste, and the other girls here, as I knew, were afraid of our +uncleanness. In the low country I had done better, and many an Amu and +Schasu woman had gladly come to my tent. From the beginning I had set my +mind on an Asiatic. + +“Many a time maidens taken prisoners in war were brought to be sold, but +either they did not please me, or they were too dear. Meantime my money +melted away, for we enjoyed life in the time of rest which followed the +working hours. There were dancers too in plenty, in the foreign quarter. + +“Well, it was just at the time of the holy feast of Amon-Chem, that a +new transport of prisoners of war arrived, and amongst them many women, +who were sold publicly to the highest bidder. The young and beautiful +ones were paid for high, but even the older ones were too dear for me. + +“Quite at the last a blind woman was led forward, and a withered-looking +woman who was dumb, as the auctioneer, who generally praised up the +merits of the prisoners, informed the buyers. The blind woman had +strong hands, and was bought by a tavern-keeper, for whom she turns the +handmill to this day; the dumb woman held a child in her arms, and no +one could tell whether she was young or old. She looked as though she +already lay in her coffin, and the little one as though he would go +under the grass before her. And her hair was red, burning red, the very +color of Typhon. Her white pale face looked neither bad nor good, only +weary, weary to death. On her withered white arms blue veins ran like +dark cords, her hands hung feebly down, and in them hung the child. If a +wind were to rise, I thought to myself, it would blow her away, and the +little one with her. + +“The auctioneer asked for a bid. All were silent, for the dumb shadow +was of no use for work; she was half-dead, and a burial costs money. + +“So passed several minutes. Then the auctioneer stepped up to her, and +gave her a blow with his whip, that she might rouse herself up, and +appear less miserable to the buyers. She shivered like a person in a +fever, pressed the child closer to her, and looked round at every one as +though seeking for help--and me full in the face. What happened now was +a real wonder, for her eyes were bigger than any that I ever saw, and a +demon dwelt in them that had power over me and ruled me to the end, and +that day it bewitched me for the first time. + +“It was not hot and I had drunk nothing, and yet I acted against my own +will and better judgment when, as her eyes fell upon me, I bid all +that I possessed in order to buy her. I might have had her cheaper! My +companions laughed at me, the auctioneer shrugged his shoulders as he +took my money, but I took the child on my arm, helped the woman up, +carried her in a boat over the Nile, loaded a stone-cart with my +miserable property, and drove her like a block of lime home to the old +people. + +“My mother shook her head, and my father looked as if he thought me mad; +but neither of them said a word. They made up a bed for her, and on my +spare nights I built that ruined thing hard by--it was a tidy hut once. +Soon my mother grew fond of the child. It was quite small, and we called +it Pennu--[Pennu is the name for the mouse in old Egyptian]--because +it was so pretty, like a little mouse. I kept away from the foreign +quarter, and saved my wages, and bought a goat, which lived in front of +our door when I took the woman to her own hut. + +“She was dumb, but not deaf, only she did not understand our language; +but the demon in her eyes spoke for her and understood what I said. She +comprehended everything, and could say everything with her eyes; but +best of all she knew how to thank one. No high-priest who at the great +hill festival praises the Gods in long hymns for their gifts can return +thanks so earnestly with his lips as she with her dumb eyes. And when +she wished to pray, then it seemed as though the demon in her look was +mightier than ever. + +“At first I used to be impatient enough when she leaned so feebly +against the wall, or when the child cried and disturbed my sleep; but +she had only to look up, and the demon pressed my heart together and +persuaded me that the crying was really a song. Pennu cried more sweetly +too than other children, and he had such soft, white, pretty little +fingers. + +“One day he had been crying for a long time, At last I bent down over +him, and was going to scold him, but he seized me by the beard. It was +pretty to see! Afterwards he was for ever wanting to pull me about, +and his mother noticed that that pleased me, for when I brought home +anything good, an egg or a flower or a cake, she used to hold him up and +place his little hands on my beard. + +“Yes, in a few months the woman had learnt to hold him up high in her +arms, for with care and quiet she had grown stronger. White she always +remained and delicate, but she grew younger and more beautiful from day +to day; she can hardly have numbered twenty years when I bought her. +What she was called I never heard; nor did we give her any name. She was +‘the woman,’ and so we called her. + +“Eight moons passed by, and then the little Mouse died. I wept as she +did, and as I bent over the little corpse and let my tears have free +course, and thought--now he can never lift up his pretty little finger +to you again; then I felt for the first time the woman’s soft hand on my +cheek. She stroked my rough beard as a child might, and with that looked +at me so gratefully that I felt as though king Pharaoh had all at once +made me a present of both Upper and Lower Egypt. + +“When the Mouse was buried she got weaker again, but my mother took good +care of her. I lived with her, like a father with his child. She was +always friendly, but if I approached her, and tried to show her any +fondness, she would look at me, and the demon in her eyes drove me back, +and I let her alone. + +“She grew healthier and stronger and more and more beautiful, so +beautiful that I kept her hidden, and was consumed by the longing to +make her my wife. A good housewife she never became, to be sure; her +hands were so tender, and she did not even know how to milk the goat. My +mother did that and everything else for her. + +“In the daytime she stayed in her hut and worked, for she was very +skillful at woman’s work, and wove lace as fine as cobwebs, which my +mother sold that she might bring home perfumes with the proceeds. She +was very fond of them, and of flowers too; and Uarda in there takes +after her. + +“In the evening, when the folk from the other side had left the City +of the Dead, she would often walk down the valley here, thoughtful and +often looking up at the moon, which she was especially fond of. + +“One evening in the winter-time I came home. It was already dark, and I +expected to find her in front of the door. All at once, about a hundred +steps behind old Hekt’s cave, I heard a troop of jackals barking so +furiously that I said to myself directly they had attacked a human +being, and I knew too who it was, though no one had told me, and the +woman could not call or cry out. Frantic with terror, I tore a firebrand +from the hearth and the stake to which the goat was fastened out of the +ground, rushed to her help, drove away the beasts, and carried her back +senseless to the hut. My mother helped me, and we called her back to +life. When we were alone, I wept like a child for joy at her escape, and +she let me kiss her, and then she became my wife, three years after I +had bought her. + +“She bore me a little maid, that she herself named Uarda; for she showed +us a rose, and then pointed to the child, and we understood her without +words. + +“Soon afterwards she died. + +“You are a priest, but I tell you that when I am summoned before Osiris, +if I am admitted amongst the blessed, I will ask whether I shall meet my +wife, and if the doorkeeper says no, he may thrust me back, and I will +go down cheerfully to the damned, if I find her again there.” + +“And did no sign ever betray her origin?” asked the physician. + +The soldier had hidden his face in his hand; he was weeping aloud, and +did not hear the question. But, the paraschites answered: + +“She was the child of some great personage, for in her clothes we found +a golden jewel with a precious stone inscribed with strange characters. +It is very costly, and my wife is keeping it for the little one.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +In the earliest glimmer of dawn the following clay, the physician +Nebsecht having satisfied himself as to the state of the sick girl, left +the paraschites’ hut and made his way in deepest thought to the ‘Terrace +Temple of Hatasu, to find his friend Pentaur and compose the writing +which he had promised to the old man. + +As the sun arose in radiance he reached the sanctuary. He expected to +hear the morning song of the priests, but all was silent. He knocked and +the porter, still half-asleep, opened the door. + +Nebsecht enquired for the chief of the Temple. “He died in the night,” + said the man yawning. + +“What do you say?” cried the physician in sudden terror, “who is dead?” + +“Our good old chief, Rui.” + +Nebsecht breathed again, and asked for Pentaur. + +“You belong to the House of Seti,” said the doorkeeper, “and you do not +know that he is deposed from his office? The holy fathers have refused +to celebrate the birth of Ra with him. He sings for himself now, alone +up on the watch-tower. There you will find him.” + +Nebsecht strode quickly up the stairs. Several of the priests placed +themselves together in groups as soon as they saw him, and began +singing. He paid no heed to them, however, but hastened on to the +uppermost terrace, where he found his friend occupied in writing. + +Soon he learnt all that had happened, and wrathfully he cried: “You are +too honest for those wise gentlemen in the House of Seti, and too pure +and zealous for the rabble here. I knew it, I knew what would come of it +if they introduced you to the mysteries. For us initiated there remains +only the choice between lying and silence.” + +“The old error!” said Pentaur, “we know that the Godhead is One, we name +it, ‘The All,’ ‘The Veil of the All,’ or simply ‘Ra.’ But under the name +Ra we understand something different than is known to the common herd; +for to us, the Universe is God, and in each of its parts we recognize +a manifestation of that highest being without whom nothing is, in the +heights above or in the depths below.” + +“To me you can say everything, for I also am initiated,” interrupted +Nebsecht. + +“But neither from the laity do I withhold it,” cried Pentaur, “only +to those who are incapable of understanding the whole, do I show the +different parts. Am I a liar if I do not say, ‘I speak,’ but ‘my mouth +speaks,’ if I affirm, ‘Your eye sees,’ when it is you yourself who +are the seer. When the light of the only One manifests itself, then I +fervently render thanks to him in hymns, and the most luminous of his +forms I name Ra. When I look upon yonder green fields, I call upon the +faithful to give thanks to Rennut, that is, that active manifestation +of the One, through which the corn attains to its ripe maturity. Am I +filled with wonder at the bounteous gifts with which that divine stream +whose origin is hidden, blesses our land, then I adore the One as the +God Hapi, the secret one. Whether we view the sun, the harvest, or the +Nile, whether we contemplate with admiration the unity and harmony of +the visible or invisible world, still it is always with the Only, the +All-embracing One we have to do, to whom we also ourselves belong as +those of his manifestations in which lie places his self-consciousness. +The imagination of the multitude is limited.... ” + +“And so we lions, + + [“The priests,” says Clement of Alexandria, “allow none to be + participators in their mysteries, except kings or such amongst + themselves as are distinguished for virtue or wisdom.” The same + thing is shown by the monuments in many places] + +give them the morsel that we can devour at one gulp, finely chopped up, +and diluted with broth as if for the weak stomach of a sick man.” + +“Not so; we only feel it our duty to temper and sweeten the sharp +potion, which for men even is almost too strong, before we offer it to +the children, the babes in spirit. The sages of old veiled indeed +the highest truths in allegorical forms, in symbols, and finally in a +beautiful and richly-colored mythos, but they brought them near to the +multitude shrouded it is true but still discernible.” + +“Discernible?” said the physician, “discernible? Why then the veil?” + +“And do you imagine that the multitude could look the naked truth in the +face, + + [In Sais the statue of Athene (Neith) has the following, + inscription: “I am the All, the Past, the Present, and the Future, + my veil has no mortal yet lifted.” Plutarch, Isis and Osiris 9, a + similar quotation by Proclus, in Plato’s Timaeus.] + +and not despair?” + +“Can I, can any one who looks straight forward, and strives to see the +truth and nothing but the truth?” cried the physician. “We both of us +know that things only are, to us, such as they picture themselves in the +prepared mirror of our souls. I see grey, grey, and white, white, and +have accustomed myself in my yearning after knowledge, not to attribute +the smallest part to my own idiosyncrasy, if such indeed there be +existing in my empty breast. You look straight onwards as I do, but in +you each idea is transfigured, for in your soul invisible shaping powers +are at work, which set the crooked straight, clothe the commonplace with +charm, the repulsive with beauty. You are a poet, an artist; I only seek +for truth.” + +“Only?” said Pentaur, “it is just on account of that effort that I +esteem you so highly, and, as you already know, I also desire nothing +but the truth.” + +“I know, I know,” said the physician nodding, “but our ways run side +by side without ever touching, and our final goal is the reading of a +riddle, of which there are many solutions. You believe yourself to have +found the right one, and perhaps none exists.” + +“Then let us content ourselves with the nearest and the most beautiful,” + said Pentaur. + +“The most beautiful?” cried Nebsecht indignantly. “Is that monster, whom +you call God, beautiful--the giant who for ever regenerates himself that +he may devour himself again? God is the All, you say, who suffices to +himself. Eternal he is and shall be, because all that goes forth from +him is absorbed by him again, and the great niggard bestows no grain of +sand, no ray of light, no breath of wind, without reclaiming it for his +household, which is ruled by no design, no reason, no goodness, but by a +tyrannical necessity, whose slave he himself is. The coward hides behind +the cloud of incomprehensibility, and can be revealed only by himself--I +would I could strip him of the veil! Thus I see the thing that you call +God!” + +“A ghastly picture,” said Pentaur, “because you forget that we recognize +reason to be the essence of the All, the penetrating and moving power of +the universe which is manifested in the harmonious working together +of its parts, and in ourselves also, since we are formed out of its +substance, and inspired with its soul.” + +“Is the warfare of life in any way reasonable?” asked Nebsecht. “Is this +eternal destruction in order to build up again especially well-designed +and wise? And with this introduction of reason into the All, you provide +yourself with a self-devised ruler, who terribly resembles the gracious +masters and mistresses that you exhibit to the people.” + +“Only apparently,” answered Pentaur, “only because that which transcends +sense is communicable through the medium of the senses alone. When God +manifests himself as the wisdom of the world, we call him ‘the Word,’ +‘He, who covers his limbs with names,’ as the sacred Text expresses +itself, is the power which gives to things their distinctive forms; the +scarabaeus, ‘which enters life as its own son’ reminds us of the ever +self-renewing creative power which causes you to call our merciful and +benevolent God a monster, but which you can deny as little as you can +the happy choice of the type; for, as you know, there are only male +scarabei, and this animal reproduces itself.” + +Nebsecht smiled. “If all the doctrines of the mysteries,” he said, “have +no more truth than this happily chosen image, they are in a bad way. +These beetles have for years been my friends and companions. I know +their family life, and I can assure you that there are males and females +amongst them as amongst cats, apes, and human beings. Your ‘good God’ I +do not know, and what I least comprehend in thinking it over quietly is +the circumstance that you distinguish a good and evil principle in the +world. If the All is indeed God, if God as the scriptures teach, is +goodness, and if besides him is nothing at all, where is a place to be +found for evil?” + +“You talk like a school-boy,” said Pentaur indignantly. “All that is, is +good and reasonable in itself, but the infinite One, who prescribes his +own laws and his own paths, grants to the finite its continuance through +continual renewal, and in the changing forms of the finite progresses +for evermore. What we call evil, darkness, wickedness, is in itself +divine, good, reasonable, and clear; but it appears in another light to +our clouded minds, because we perceive the way only and not the goal, +the details only, and not the whole. Even so, superficial listeners +blame the music, in which a discord is heard, which the harper has only +evoked from the strings that his hearers may more deeply feel the purity +of the succeeding harmony; even so, a fool blames the painter who has +colored his board with black, and does not wait for the completion +of the picture which shall be thrown into clearer relief by the dark +background; even so, a child chides the noble tree, whose fruit rots, +that a new life may spring up from its kernel. Apparent evil is but an +antechamber to higher bliss, as every sunset is but veiled by night, and +will soon show itself again as the red dawn of a new day.” + +“How convincing all that sounds!” answered the physician, “all, even +the terrible, wins charm from your lips; but I could invert your +proposition, and declare that it is evil that rules the world, and +sometimes gives us one drop of sweet content, in order that we may more +keenly feel the bitterness of life. You see harmony and goodness +in everything. I have observed that passion awakens life, that all +existence is a conflict, that one being devours another.” + +“And do you not feel the beauty of visible creation, and does not the +immutable law in everything fill you with admiration and humility?” + +“For beauty,” replied Nebsecht, “I have never sought; the organ is +somehow wanting in me to understand it of myself, though I willingly +allow you to mediate between us. But of law in nature I fully appreciate +the worth, for that is the veritable soul of the universe. You call the +One ‘Temt,’ that is to say the total--the unity which is reached by the +addition of many units; and that pleases me, for the elements of the +universe and the powers which prescribe the paths of life are +strictly defined by measure and number--but irrespective of beauty or +benevolence.” + +“Such views,” cried Pentaur troubled, “are the result of your strange +studies. You kill and destroy, in order, as you yourself say, to come +upon the track of the secrets of life. Look out upon nature, develop +the faculty which you declare to be wanting, in you, and the beauty of +creation will teach you without my assistance that you are praying to a +false god.” + +“I do not pray,” said Nebsecht, “for the law which moves the world is +as little affected by prayers as the current of the sands in your +hour-glass. Who tells you that I do not seek to come upon the track of +the first beginning of things? I proved to you just now that I know more +about the origin of Scarabei than you do. I have killed many an animal, +not only to study its organism, but also to investigate how it has built +up its form. But precisely in this work my organ for beauty has become +blunt rather than keen. I tell you that the beginning of things is not +more attractive to contemplate than their death and decomposition.” + +Pentaur looked at the physician enquiringly. + +“I also for once,” continued Nebsecht, “will speak in figures. Look at +this wine, how pure it is, how fragrant; and yet it was trodden from the +grape by the brawny feet of the vintagers. And those full ears of corn! +They gleam golden yellow, and will yield us snow-white meal when they +are ground, and yet they grew from a rotting seed. Lately you were +praising to me the beauty of the great Hall of Columns nearly completed +in the Temple of Amon over yonder in Thebes. + + [Begun by Rameses I. continued by Seti I., completed by Rameses II. + The remains of this immense hall, with its 134 columns, have not + their equal in the world.] + +How posterity will admire it! I saw that Hall arise. There lay masses of +freestone in wild confusion, dust in heaps that took away my breath, +and three months since I was sent over there, because above a hundred +workmen engaged in stone-polishing under the burning sun had been beaten +to death. Were I a poet like you, I would show you a hundred similar +pictures, in which you would not find much beauty. In the meantime, +we have enough to do in observing the existing order of things, and +investigating the laws by which it is governed.” + +“I have never clearly understood your efforts, and have difficulty in +comprehending why you did not turn to the science of the haruspices,” + said Pentaur. “Do you then believe that the changing, and--owing to the +conditions by which they are surrounded--the dependent life of plants +and animals is governed by law, rule, and numbers like the movement of +the stars?” + +“What a question! Is the strong and mighty hand, which compels yonder +heavenly bodies to roll onward in their carefully-appointed orbits, not +delicate enough to prescribe the conditions of the flight of the bird, +and the beating of the human heart?” + +“There we are again with the heart,” said the poet smiling, “are you any +nearer your aim?” + +The physician became very grave. “Perhaps tomorrow even,” he said, “I +may have what I need. You have your palette there with red and black +color, and a writing reed. May I use this sheet of papyrus?” + +“Of course; but first tell me.... ” + +“Do not ask; you would not approve of my scheme, and there would only be +a fresh dispute.” + +“I think,” said the poet, laying his hand on his friend’s shoulder, +“that we have no reason to fear disputes. So far they have been the +cement, the refreshing dew of our friendship.” + +“So long as they treated of ideas only, and not of deeds.” + +“You intend to get possession of a human heart!” cried the poet. “Think +of what you are doing! The heart is the vessel of that effluence of the +universal soul, which lives in us.” + +“Are you so sure of that?” cried the physician with some irritation, +“then give me the proof. Have you ever examined a heart, has any one +member of my profession done so? The hearts of criminals and prisoners +of war even are declared sacred from touch, and when we stand helpless +by a patient, and see our medicines work harm as often as good, why is +it? Only because we physicians are expected to work as blindly as an +astronomer, if he were required to look at the stars through a board. At +Heliopolis I entreated the great Urma Rahotep, the truly learned chief +of our craft, and who held me in esteem, to allow me to examine the +heart of a dead Amu; but he refused me, because the great Sechet leads +virtuous Semites also into the fields of the blessed. + + [According to the inscription accompanying the famous + representations of the four nations (Egyptians, Semites, Libyans, + and Ethiopians) in the tomb of Seti I.] + +And then followed all the old scruples: that to cut up the heart of a +beast even is sinful, because it also is the vehicle of a soul, perhaps +a condemned and miserable human soul, which before it can return to the +One, must undergo purification by passing through the bodies of animals. +I was not satisfied, and declared to him that my great-grandfather +Nebsecht, before he wrote his treatise on the heart, must certainly +have examined such an organ. Then he answered me that the divinity had +revealed to him what he had written, and therefore his work had been +accepted amongst the sacred writings of Toth, + + [Called by the Greeks “Hermetic Books.” The Papyrus Ebers is the + work called by Clemens of Alexandria “the Book of Remedies.”] + +which stood fast and unassailable as the laws of the world; he wished +to give me peace for quiet work, and I also, he said, might be a chosen +spirit, the divinity might perhaps vouchsafe revelations to me too. I +was young at that time, and spent my nights in prayer, but I only wasted +away, and my spirit grew darker instead of clearer. Then I killed in +secret--first a fowl, then rats, then a rabbit, and cut up their hearts, +and followed the vessels that lead out of them, and know little more now +than I did at first; but I must get to the bottom of the truth, and I +must have a human heart.” + +“What will that do for you?” asked Pentaur; “you cannot hope to perceive +the invisible and the infinite with your human eyes?” + +“Do you know my great-grandfather’s treatise?” + +“A little,” answered the poet; “he said that wherever he laid his +finger, whether on the head, the hands, or the stomach, he everywhere +met with the heart, because its vessels go into all the members, and the +heart is the meeting point of all these vessels. Then Nebsecht proceeds +to state how these are distributed in the different members, and +shows--is it not so?--that the various mental states, such as anger, +grief, aversion, and also the ordinary use of the word heart, declare +entirely for his view.” + +“That is it. We have already discussed it, and I believe that he is +right, so far as the blood is concerned, and the animal sensations. But +the pure and luminous intelligence in us--that has another seat,” and +the physician struck his broad but low forehead with his hand. “I have +observed heads by the hundred down at the place of execution, and I have +also removed the top of the skulls of living animals. But now let me +write, before we are disturbed.” + + [Human brains are prescribed for a malady of the eyes in the Ebers + papyrus. Herophilus, one of the first scholars of the Alexandrine + Museum, studied not only the bodies of executed criminals, but made + his experiments also on living malefactors. He maintained that the + four cavities of the human brain are the seat of the soul.] + +The physician took the reed, moistened it with black color prepared from +burnt papyrus, and in elegant hieratic characters + + [At the time of our narrative the Egyptians had two kinds of + writing-the hieroglyphic, which was generally used for monumental + inscriptions, and in which the letters consisted of conventional + representations of various objects, mathematical and arbitrary + symbols, and the hieratic, used for writing on papyrus, and in + which, with the view of saving time, the written pictures underwent + so many alterations and abbreviations that the originals could + hardly be recognized. In the 8th century there was a further + abridgment of the hieratic writing, which was called the demotic, or + people’s writing, and was used in commerce. Whilst the hieroglyphic + and hieratic writings laid the foundations of the old sacred + dialect, the demotic letters were only used to write the spoken + language of the people. E. de Rouge’s Chrestomathie Egyptienne. + H. Brugsch’s Hieroglyphische Grammatik. Le Page Renouf’s shorter + hieroglyphical grammar. Ebers’ Ueber das Hieroglyphische + Schriftsystem, 2nd edition, 1875, in the lectures of Virchow + Holtzendorff.] + +wrote the paper for the paraschites, in which he confessed to having +impelled him to the theft of a heart, and in the most binding manner +declared himself willing to take the old man’s guilt upon himself before +Osiris and the judges of the dead. + +When he had finished, Pentaur held out his hand for the paper, but +Nebsecht folded it together, placed it in a little bag in which lay +an amulet that his dying mother had hung round his neck, and said, +breathing deeply: + +“That is done. Farewell, Pentaur.” + +But the poet held the physician back; he spoke to him with the warmest +words, and conjured him to abandon his enterprise. His prayers, however, +had no power to touch Nebsecht, who only strove forcibly to disengage +his finger from Pentaur’s strong hand, which held him as in a clasp of +iron. The excited poet did not remark that he was hurting his friend, +until after a new and vain attempt at freeing himself, Nebsecht cried +out in pain, “You are crushing my finger!” + +A smile passed over the poet’s face, he loosened his hold on the +physician, and stroked the reddened hand like a mother who strives to +divert her child from pain. + +“Don’t be angry with me, Nebsecht,” he said, “you know my unlucky fists, +and to-day they really ought to hold you fast, for you have too mad a +purpose on hand.” + +“Mad?” said the physician, whilst he smiled in his turn. “It may be so; +but do you not know that we Egyptians all have a peculiar tenderness for +our follies, and are ready to sacrifice house and land to them?” + +“Our own house and our own land,” cried the poet: and then added +seriously, “but not the existence, not the happiness of another.” + +“Have I not told you that I do not look upon the heart as the seat of +our intelligence? So far as I am concerned, I would as soon be buried +with a ram’s heart as with my own.” + +“I do not speak of the plundered dead, but of the living,” said the +poet. “If the deed of the paraschites is discovered, he is undone, and +you would only have saved that sweet child in the hut behind there, to +fling her into deeper misery.” + +Nebsecht looked at the other with as much astonishment and dismay, as if +he had been awakened from sleep by bad tidings. Then he cried: “All that +I have, I would share with the old man and Uarda.” + +“And who would protect her?” + +“Her father.” + +“That rough drunkard who to-morrow or the day after may be sent no one +knows where.” + +“He is a good fellow,” said the physician interrupting his friend, and +stammering violently. “But who ‘would do anything to the child? She is +so so.... She is so charming, so perfectly--sweet and lovely.” + +With these last words he cast down his eyes and reddened like a girl. + +“You understand that,” he said, “better than I do; yes, and you also +think her beautiful! Strange! you must not laugh if I confess--I am +but a man like every one else--when I confess, that I believe I have at +length discovered in myself the missing organ for beauty of form--not +believe merely, but truly have discovered it, for it has not only +spoken, but cried, raged, till I felt a rushing in my ears, and for the +first time was attracted more by the sufferer than by suffering. I have +sat in the hut as though spell-bound, and gazed at her hair, at her +eyes, at how she breathed. They must long since have missed me at the +House of Seti, perhaps discovered all my preparations, when seeking me +in my room! For two days and nights I have allowed myself to be drawn +away from my work, for the sake of this child. Were I one of the laity, +whom you would approach, I should say that demons had bewitched me. +But it is not that,”--and with these words the physician’s eyes flamed +up--“it is not that! The animal in me, the low instincts of which the +heart is the organ, and which swelled my breast at her bedside, they +have mastered the pure and fine emotions here--here in this brain; and +in the very moment when I hoped to know as the God knows whom you call +the Prince of knowledge, in that moment I must learn that the animal in +me is stronger than that which I call my God.” + +The physician, agitated and excited, had fixed his eyes on the ground +during these last words, and hardly noticed the poet, who listened to +him wondering and full of sympathy. For a time both were silent; then +Pentaur laid his hand on his friend’s hand, and said cordially: + +“My soul is no stranger to what you feel, and heart and head, if I may +use your own words, have known a like emotion. But I know that what we +feel, although it may be foreign to our usual sensations, is loftier +and more precious than these, not lower. Not the animal, Nebsecht, is +it that you feel in yourself, but God. Goodness is the most beautiful +attribute of the divine, and you have always been well-disposed +towards great and small; but I ask you, have you ever before felt so +irresistibly impelled to pour out an ocean of goodness on another being, +whether for Uarda you would not more joyfully and more self-forgetfully +sacrifice all that you have, and all that you are, than to father and +mother and your oldest friend?” + +Nebsecht nodded assentingly. + +“Well then,” cried Pentaur, “follow your new and godlike emotion, be +good to Uarda and do not sacrifice her to your vain wishes. My poor +friend! With your--enquiries into the secrets of life, you have never +looked round upon itself, which spreads open and inviting before our +eyes. Do you imagine that the maiden who can thus inflame the calmest +thinker in Thebes, will not be coveted by a hundred of the common herd +when her protector fails her? Need I tell you that amongst the dancers +in the foreign quarter nine out of ten are the daughters of outlawed +parents? Can you endure the thought that by your hand innocence may be +consigned to vice, the rose trodden under foot in the mud? Is the human +heart that you desire, worth an Uarda? Now go, and to-morrow come again +to me your friend who understands how to sympathize with all you feel, +and to whom you have approached so much the nearer to-day that you have +learned to share his purest happiness.” + +Pentaur held out his hand to the physician, who held it some time, then +went thoughtfully and lingeringly, unmindful of the burning glow of +the mid-day sun, over the mountain into the valley of the king’s graves +towards the hut of the paraschites. + +Here he found the soldier with his daughter. “Where is the old man?” he +asked anxiously. + +“He has gone to his work in the house of the embalmer,” was the answer. +“If anything should happen to him he bade me tell you not to forget the +writing and the book. He was as though out of his mind when he left us, +and put the ram’s heart in his bag and took it with him. Do you remain +with the little one; my mother is at work, and I must go with the +prisoners of war to Harmontis.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +While the two friends from the House of Seti were engaged in +conversation, Katuti restlessly paced the large open hall of her +son-in-law’s house, in which we have already seen her. A snow-white cat +followed her steps, now playing with the hem of her long plain dress, +and now turning to a large stand on which the dwarf Nemu sat in a heap; +where formerly a silver statue had stood, which a few months previously +had been sold. + +He liked this place, for it put him in a position to look into the eyes +of his mistress and other frill-grown people. “If you have betrayed me! +If you have deceived me!” said Katuti with a threatening gesture as she +passed his perch. + +“Put me on a hook to angle for a crocodile if I have. But I am curious +to know how he will offer you the money.” + +“You swore to me,” interrupted his mistress with feverish agitation, +“that you had not used my name in asking Paaker to save us?” + +“A thousand times I swear it,” said the little man. + +“Shall I repeat all our conversation? I tell thee he will sacrifice his +land, and his house-great gate and all, for one friendly glance from +Nefert’s eyes.” + +“If only Mena loved her as he does!” sighed the widow, and then again +she walked up and down the hall in silence, while the dwarf looked out +at the garden entrance. Suddenly she paused in front of Nemu, and said +so hoarsely that Nemu shuddered: + +“I wish she were a widow.” “The little man made a gesture as if to +protect himself from the evil eye, but at the same instant he slipped +down from his pedestal, and exclaimed: + +“There is a chariot, and I hear his big dog barking. It is he. Shall I +call Nefert?” + +“No!” said Katuti in a low voice, and she clutched at the back of a +chair as if for support. + +The dwarf shrugged his shoulders, and slunk behind a clump of ornamental +plants, and a few minutes later Paaker stood in the presence of Katuti, +who greeted him, with quiet dignity and self-possession. + +Not a feature of her finely-cut face betrayed her inward agitation, +and after the Mohar had greeted her she said with rather patronizing +friendliness: + +“I thought that you would come. Take a seat. Your heart is like your +father’s; now that you are friends with us again it is not by halves.” + +Paaker had come to offer his aunt the sum which was necessary for +the redemption of her husband’s mummy. He had doubted for a long time +whether he should not leave this to his mother, but reserve partly +and partly vanity had kept him from doing so. He liked to display his +wealth, and Katuti should learn what he could do, what a son-in-law she +had rejected. + +He would have preferred to send the gold, which he had resolved to give +away, by the hand of one of his slaves, like a tributary prince. +But that could not be done so he put on his finger a ring set with a +valuable stone, which king Seti I., had given to his father, and added +various clasps and bracelets to his dress. + +When, before leaving the house, he looked at himself in a mirror, he +said to himself with some satisfaction, that he, as he stood, was worth +as much as the whole of Mena’s estates. + +Since his conversation with Nemu, and the dwarf’s interpretation of +his dream, the path which he must tread to reach his aim had been plain +before him. Nefert’s mother must be won with the gold which would save +her from disgrace, and Mena must be sent to the other world. He relied +chiefly on his own reckless obstinacy--which he liked to call firm +determination--Nemu’s cunning, and the love-philter. + +He now approached Katuti with the certainty of success, like a merchant +who means to acquire some costly object, and feels that he is rich +enough to pay for it. But his aunt’s proud and dignified manner +confounded him. + +He had pictured her quite otherwise, spirit-broken, and suppliant; +and he had expected, and hoped to earn, Nefert’s thanks as well as her +mother’s by his generosity. Mena’s pretty wife was however absent, and +Katuti did not send for her even after he had enquired after her health. + +The widow made no advances, and some time passed in indifferent +conversation, till Paaker abruptly informed her that he had heard of her +son’s reckless conduct, and had decided, as being his mother’s nearest +relation, to preserve her from the degradation that threatened her. For +the sake of his bluntness, which she took for honesty, Katuti forgave +the magnificence of his dress, which under the circumstances certainly +seemed ill-chosen; she thanked him with dignity, but warmly, more for +the sake of her children than for her own; for life she said was opening +before them, while for her it was drawing to its close. + +“You are still at a good time of life,” said Paaker. + +“Perhaps at the best,” replied the widow, “at any rate from my point of +view; regarding life as I do as a charge, a heavy responsibility.” + +“The administration of this involved estate must give you many, anxious +hours--that I understand.” Katuti nodded, and then said sadly: + +“I could bear it all, if I were not condemned to see my poor child being +brought to misery without being able to help her or advise her. You once +would willingly have married her, and I ask you, was there a maiden in +Thebes--nay in all Egypt--to compare with her for beauty? Was she not +worthy to be loved, and is she not so still? Does she deserve that her +husband should leave her to starve, neglect her, and take a strange +woman into his tent as if he had repudiated her? I see what you feel +about it! You throw all the blame on me. Your heart says: ‘Why did she +break off our betrothal,’ and your right feeling tells you that you +would have given her a happier lot.” + +With these words Katuti took her nephew’s hand, and went on with +increasing warmth. + +“We know you to-day for the most magnanimous man in Thebes, for you have +requited injustice with an immense benefaction; but even as a boy you +were kind and noble. Your father’s wish has always been dear and +sacred to me, for during his lifetime he always behaved to us as an +affectionate brother, and I would sooner have sown the seeds of sorrow +for myself than for your mother, my beloved sister. I brought up my +child--I guarded her jealously--for the young hero who was absent, +proving his valor in Syria--for you and for you only. Then your father +died, my sole stay and protector.” + +“I know it all!” interrupted Paaker looking gloomily at the floor. + +“Who should have told you?” said the widow. “For your mother, when that +had happened which seemed incredible, forbid us her house, and shut her +ears. The king himself urged Mena’s suit, for he loves him as his own +son, and when I represented your prior claim he commanded;--and who may +resist the commands of the sovereign of two worlds, the Son of Ra? Kings +have short memories; how often did your father hazard his life for him, +how many wounds had he received in his service. For your father’s sake +he might have spared you such an affront, and such pain.” + +“And have I myself served him, or not?” asked the pioneer flushing +darkly. + +“He knows you less,” returned Katuti apologetically. Then she changed +her tone to one of sympathy, and went on: + +“How was it that you, young as you were, aroused his dissatisfaction, +his dislike, nay his--” + +“His what?” asked the pioneer, trembling with excitement. + +“Let that pass!” said the widow soothingly. “The favor and disfavor of +kings are as those of the Gods. Men rejoice in the one or bow to the +other.” + +“What feeling have I aroused in Rameses besides dissatisfaction, and +dislike? I insist on knowing!” said Paaker with increasing vehemence. + +“You alarm me,” the widow declared. “And in speaking ill of you, his +only motive was to raise his favorite in Nefert’s estimation.” + +“Tell me what he said!” cried the pioneer; cold drops stood on his brown +forehead, and his glaring eyes showed the white eye-balls. + +Katuti quailed before him, and drew back, but he followed her, seized +her arm, and said huskily: + +“What did he say?” + +“Paaker!” cried the widow in pain and indignation. “Let me go. It is +better for you that I should not repeat the words with which Rameses +sought to turn Nefert’s heart from you. Let me go, and remember to whom +you are speaking.” + +But Paaker gripped her elbow the tighter, and urgently repeated his +question. + +“Shame upon you!” cried Katuti, “you are hurting me; let me go! You will +not till you have heard what he said? Have your own way then, but the +words are forced from me! He said that if he did not know your mother +Setchem for an honest woman, he never would have believed you were your +father’s son--for you were no more like him than an owl to an eagle.” + +Paaker took his hand from Katuti’s arm. “And so--and so--” he muttered +with pale lips. + +“Nefert took your part, and I too, but in vain. Do not take the words +too hardly. Your father was a man without an equal, and Rameses cannot +forget that we are related to the old royal house. His grandfather, his +father, and himself are usurpers, and there is one now living who has a +better right to the throne than he has.” + +“The Regent Ani!” exclaimed Paaker decisively. Katuti nodded, she went +up to the pioneer and said in a whisper: + +“I put myself in your hands, though I know they may be raised against +me. But you are my natural ally, for that same act of Rameses that +disgraced and injured you, made me a partner in the designs of Ani. The +king robbed you of your bride, me of my daughter. He filled your soul +with hatred for your arrogant rival, and mine with passionate regret for +the lost happiness of my child. I feel the blood of Hatasu in my veins, +and my spirit is high enough to govern men. It was I who roused the +sleeping ambition of the Regent--I who directed his gaze to the throne +to which he was destined by the Gods. The ministers of the Gods, the +priests, are favorably disposed to us; we have--” + +At this moment there was a commotion in the garden, and a breathless +slave rushed in exclaiming “The Regent is at the gate!” + +Paaker stood in stupid perplexity, but he collected himself with an +effort and would have gone, but Katuti detained him. + +“I will go forward to meet Ani,” she said. “He will be rejoiced to see +you, for he esteems you highly and was a friend of your father’s.” + +As soon as Katuti had left the hall, the dwarf Nemu crept out of his +hiding-place, placed himself in front of Paaker, and asked boldly: + +“Well? Did I give thee good advice yesterday, or no?” + +Put Paaker did not answer him, he pushed him aside with his foot, and +walked up and down in deep thought. + +Katuti met the Regent half way down the garden. He held a manuscript +roll in his hand, and greeted her from afar with a friendly wave of his +hand. + +The widow looked at him with astonishment. + +It seemed to her that he had grown taller and younger since the last +time she had seen him. + +“Hail to your highness!” she cried, half in joke half reverently, and +she raised her hands in supplication, as if he already wore the double +crown of Upper and Lower Egypt. “Have the nine Gods met you? have the +Hathors kissed you in your slumbers? This is a white day--a lucky day--I +read it in your face!” “That is reading a cipher!” said Ani gaily, but +with dignity. “Read this despatch.” + +Katuti took the roll from his hand, read it through, and then returned +it. + +“The troops you equipped have conquered the allied armies of the +Ethiopians,” she said gravely, “and are bringing their prince in fetters +to Thebes, with endless treasure, and ten thousand prisoners! The Gods +be praised!” + +“And above all things I thank the Gods that my general Scheschenk--my +foster-brother and friend--is returning well and unwounded from the +war. I think, Katuti, that the figures in our dreams are this day taking +forms of flesh and blood!” + +“They are growing to the stature of heroes!” cried the widow. “And you +yourself, my lord, have been stirred by the breath of the Divinity. You +walk like the worthy son of Ra, the Courage of Menth beams in your eyes, +and you smile like the victorious Horus.” + +“Patience, patience my friend,” said Ani, moderating the eagerness +of the widow; “now, more than ever, we must cling to my principle of +over-estimating the strength of our opponents, and underrating our own. +Nothing has succeeded on which I had counted, and on the contrary many +things have justified my fears that they would fail. The beginning of +the end is hardly dawning on us.” + +“But successes, like misfortunes, never come singly,” replied Katuti. + +“I agree with you,” said Ani. “The events of life seem to me to fall in +groups. Every misfortune brings its fellow with it--like every piece of +luck. Can you tell me of a second success?” + +“Women win no battles,” said the widow smiling. “But they win allies, +and I have gained a powerful one.” + +“A God or an army?” asked Ani. + +“Something between the two,” she replied. “Paaker, the king’s chief +pioneer, has joined us;” and she briefly related to Ani the history of +her nephew’s love and hatred. + +Ani listened in silence; then he said with an expression of much +disquiet and anxiety: + +“This man is a follower of Rameses, and must shortly return to him. Many +may guess at our projects, but every additional person who knows them +may be come a traitor. You are urging me, forcing me, forward too +soon. A thousand well-prepared enemies are less dangerous than one +untrustworthy ally--” + +“Paaker is secured to us,” replied Katuti positively. “Who will answer +for him?” asked Ani. + +“His life shall be in your hand,” replied Katuti gravely. “My shrewd +little dwarf Nemu knows that he has committed some secret crime, which +the law punishes by death.” + +The Regent’s countenance cleared. + +“That alters the matter,” he said with satisfaction. “Has he committed a +murder?” + +“No,” said Katuti, “but Nemu has sworn to reveal to you alone all that +he knows. He is wholly devoted to us.” + +“Well and good,” said Ani thoughtfully, “but he too is imprudent--much +too imprudent. You are like a rider, who to win a wager urges his horse +to leap over spears. If he falls on the points, it is he that suffers; +you let him lie there, and go on your way.” + +“Or are impaled at the same time as the noble horse,” said Katuti +gravely. “You have more to win, and at the same time more to lose than +we; but the meanest clings to life; and I must tell you, Ani, that I +work for you, not to win any thing through your success, but because you +are as dear to me as a brother, and because I see in you the embodiment +of my father’s claims which have been trampled on.” + +Ani gave her his hand and asked: + +“Did you also as my friend speak to Bent-Anat? Do I interpret your +silence rightly?” + +Katuti sadly shook her head; but Ani went on: “Yesterday that would have +decided me to give her up; but to-day my courage has risen, and if the +Hathors be my friends I may yet win her.” + +With these words he went in advance of the widow into the hall, where +Paaker was still walking uneasily up and down. + +The pioneer bowed low before the Regent, who returned the greeting with +a half-haughty, half-familiar wave of the hand, and when he had seated +himself in an arm-chair politely addressed Paaker as the son of a +friend, and a relation of his family. + +“All the world,” he said, “speaks of your reckless courage. Men like you +are rare; I have none such attached to me. I wish you stood nearer to +me; but Rameses will not part with you, although--although--In point of +fact your office has two aspects; it requires the daring of a soldier, +and the dexterity of a scribe. No one denies that you have the first, +but the second--the sword and the reed-pen are very different weapons, +one requires supple fingers, the other a sturdy fist. The king used to +complain of your reports--is he better satisfied with them now?” + +“I hope so,” replied the Mohar; “my brother Horus is a practised writer, +and accompanies me in my journeys.” + +“That is well,” said Ani. “If I had the management of affairs I should +treble your staff, and give you four--five--six scribes under you, +who should be entirely at your command, and to whom you could give the +materials for the reports to be sent out. Your office demands that you +should be both brave and circumspect; these characteristics are rarely +united; but there are scriveners by hundreds in the temples.” + +“So it seems to me,” said Paaker. + +Ani looked down meditatively, and continued--“Rameses is fond of +comparing you with your father. That is unfair, for he--who is now with +the justified--was without an equal; at once the bravest of heroes and +the most skilful of scribes. You are judged unjustly; and it grieves me +all the more that you belong, through your mother, to my poor but royal +house. We will see whether I cannot succeed in putting you in the right +place. For the present you are required in Syria almost as soon as +you have got home. You have shown that you are a man who does not fear +death, and who can render good service, and you might now enjoy your +wealth in peace with your wife.” + +“I am alone,” said Paaker. + +“Then, if you come home again, let Katuti seek you out the prettiest +wife in Egypt,” said the Regent smiling. “She sees herself every day in +her mirror, and must be a connoisseur in the charms of women.” + +Ani rose with these words, bowed to Paaker with studied friendliness, +gave his hand to Katuti, and said as he left the hall: + +“Send me to-day the--the handkerchief--by the dwarf Nemu.” + +When he was already in the garden, he turned once more and said to +Paaker + +“Some friends are supping with me to-day; pray let me see you too.” + +The pioneer bowed; he dimly perceived that he was entangled in invisible +toils. Up to the present moment he had been proud of his devotion to +his calling, of his duties as Mohar; and now he had discovered that the +king, whose chain of honor hung round his neck, undervalued him, and +perhaps only suffered him to fill his arduous and dangerous post for the +sake of his father, while he, notwithstanding the temptations +offered him in Thebes by his wealth, had accepted it willingly and +disinterestedly. He knew that his skill with the pen was small, but that +was no reason why he should be despised; often had he wished that he +could reconstitute his office exactly as Ani had suggested, but his +petition to be allowed a secretary had been rejected by Rameses. What +he spied out, he was told was to be kept secret, and no one could be +responsible for the secrecy of another. + +As his brother Horus grew up, he had followed him as his obedient +assistant, even after he had married a wife, who, with her child, +remained in Thebes under the care of Setchem. + +He was now filling Paaker’s place in Syria during his absence; badly +enough, as the pioneer thought, and yet not without credit; for the +fellow knew how to write smooth words with a graceful pen. + +Paaker, accustomed to solitude, became absorbed in thought, forgetting +everything that surrounded him; even the widow herself, who had sunk on +to a couch, and was observing him in silence. + +He gazed into vacancy, while a crowd of sensations rushed confusedly +through his brain. He thought himself cruelly ill-used, and he felt too +that it was incumbent on him to become the instrument of a terrible fate +to some other person. All was dim ‘and chaotic in his mind, his love +merged in his hatred; only one thing was clear and unclouded by doubt, +and that was his strong conviction that Nefert would be his. + +The Gods indeed were in deep disgrace with him. How much he had expended +upon them--and with what a grudging hand they had rewarded him; he knew +of but one indemnification for his wasted life, and in that he believed +so firmly that he counted on it as if it were capital which he had +invested in sound securities. But at this moment his resentful feelings +embittered the sweet dream of hope, and he strove in vain for calmness +and clear-sightedness; when such cross-roads as these met, no amulet, no +divining rod could guide him; here he must think for himself, and beat +his own road before he could walk in it; and yet he could think out no +plan, and arrive at no decision. + +He grasped his burning forehead in his hands, and started from his +brooding reverie, to remember where he was, to recall his conversation +with the mother of the woman he loved, and her saying that she was +capable of guiding men. + +“She perhaps may be able to think for me,” he muttered to himself. +“Action suits me better.” + +He slowly went up to her and said: + +“So it is settled then--we are confederates.” + +“Against Rameses, and for Ani,” she replied, giving him her slender +hand. + +“In a few days I start for Syria, meanwhile you can make up your mind +what commissions you have to give me. The money for your son shall +be conveyed to you to-day before sunset. May I not pay my respects to +Nefert?” + +“Not now, she is praying in the temple.” + +“But to-morrow?” + +“Willingly, my dear friend. She will be delighted to see you, and to +thank you.” + +“Farewell, Katuti.” + +“Call me mother,” said the widow, and she waved her veil to him as a +last farewell. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +As soon as Paaker had disappeared behind the shrubs, Katuti struck a +little sheet of metal, a slave appeared, and Katuti asked her whether +Nefert had returned from the temple. + +“Her litter is just now at the side gate,” was the answer. + +“I await her here,” said the widow. The slave went away, and a few +minutes later Nefert entered the hall. + +“You want me?” she said; and after kissing her mother she sank upon her +couch. “I am tired,” she exclaimed, “Nemu, take a fan and keep the flies +off me.” + +The dwarf sat down on a cushion by her couch, and began to wave the +semi-circular fan of ostrich-feathers; but Katuti put him aside and +said: + +“You can leave us for the present; we want to speak to each other in +private.” + +The dwarf shrugged his shoulders and got up, but Nefert looked at her +mother with an irresistible appeal. + +“Let him stay,” she said, as pathetically as if her whole happiness +depended upon it. “The flies torment me so, and Nemu always holds his +tongue.” + +She patted the dwarf’s big head as if he were a lap-dog, and called +the white cat, which with a graceful leap sprang on to her shoulder and +stood there with its back arched, to be stroked by her slender fingers. + +Nemu looked enquiringly at his mistress, but Katuti turned to her +daughter, and said in a warning voice: + +“I have very serious things to discuss with you.” + +“Indeed?” said her daughter, “but I cannot be stung by the flies all the +same. Of course, if you wish it--” + +“Nemu may stay then,” said Katuti, and her voice had the tone of that of +a nurse who gives way to a naughty child. “Besides, he knows what I have +to talk about.” + +“There now!” said Nefert, kissing the head of the white cat, and she +gave the fan back to the dwarf. + +The widow looked at her daughter with sincere compassion, she went up to +her and looked for the thousandth time in admiration at her pretty face. + +“Poor child,” she sighed, “how willingly I would spare you the frightful +news which sooner or later you must hear--must bear. Leave off your +foolish play with the cat, I have things of the most hideous gravity to +tell you.” + +“Speak on,” replied Nefert. “To-day I cannot fear the worst. Mena’s +star, the haruspex told me, stands under the sign of happiness, and I +enquired of the oracle in the temple of Besa, and heard that my husband +is prospering. I have prayed in the temple till I am quite content. Only +speak!--I know my brother’s letter from the camp had no good news in it; +the evening before last I saw you had been crying, and yesterday you did +not look well; even the pomegranate flowers in your hair did not suit +you.” + +“Your brother,” sighed Katuti, “has occasioned me great trouble, and we +might through him have suffered deep dishonor--” + +“We-dishonor?” exclaimed Nefert, and she nervously clutched at the cat. + +“Your brother lost enormous sums at play; to recover them he pledged the +mummy of your father--” + +“Horrible!” cried Nefert. “We must appeal at once to the king;--I will +write to him myself; for Mena’s sake he will hear me. Rameses is great +and noble, and will not let a house that is faithfully devoted to him +fall into disgrace through the reckless folly of a boy. Certainly I will +write to him.” + +She said this in a voice of most childlike confidence, and desired Nemu +to wave the fan more gently, as if this concern were settled. + +In Katuti’s heart surprise and indignation at the unnatural indifference +of her daughter were struggling together; but she withheld all blame, +and said carelessly: + +“We are already released, for my nephew Paaker, as soon as he heard what +threatened us, offered me his help; freely and unprompted, from pure +goodness of heart and attachment.” + +“How good of Paaker!” cried Nefert. “He was so fond of me, and you know, +mother, I always stood up for him. No doubt it was for my sake that he +behaved so generously!” + +The young wife laughed, and pulling the cat’s face close to her own, +held her nose to its cool little nose, stared into its green eyes, and +said, imitating childish talk: + +“There now, pussy--how kind people are to your little mistress.” + +Katuti was vexed daughter’s childish impulses. + +“It seems to me,” she said, “that you might leave off playing and +trifling when I am talking of such serious matters. I have long since +observed that the fate of the house to which your father and mother +belong is a matter of perfect indifference to you; and yet you would +have to seek shelter and protection under its roof if your husband--” + +“Well, mother?” asked Nefert breathing more quickly. + +As soon as Katuti perceived her daughter’s agitation she regretted that +she had not more gently led up to the news she had to break to her; for +she loved her daughter, and knew that it would give her keen pain. + +So she went on more sympathetically: + +“You boasted in joke that people are good to you, and it is true; you +win hearts by your mere being--by only being what you are. And Mena too +loved you tenderly; but ‘absence,’ says the proverb, ‘is the one real +enemy,’ and Mena--” + +“What has Mena done?” Once more Nefert interrupted her mother, and her +nostrils quivered. + +“Mena,” said Katuti, decidedly, “has violated the truth and esteem which +he owes you--he has trodden them under foot, and--” + +“Mena?” exclaimed the young wife with flashing eyes; she flung the cat +on the floor, and sprang from her couch. + +“Yes--Mena,” said Katuti firmly. “Your brother writes that he would have +neither silver nor gold for his spoil, but took the fair daughter of the +prince of the Danaids into his tent. The ignoble wretch!” + +“Ignoble wretch!” cried Nefert, and two or three times she repeated her +mother’s last words. Katuti drew back in horror, for her gentle, docile, +childlike daughter stood before her absolutely transfigured beyond all +recognition. + +She looked like a beautiful demon of revenge; her eyes sparkled, her +breath came quickly, her limbs quivered, and with extraordinary strength +and rapidity she seized the dwarf by the hand, led him to the door of +one of the rooms which opened out of the hall, threw it open, pushed the +little man over the threshold, and closed it sharply upon him; then with +white lips she came up to her mother. + +“An ignoble wretch did you call him?” she cried out with a hoarse husky +voice, “an ignoble wretch! Take back your words, mother, take back your +words, or--” + +Katuti turned paler and paler, and said soothingly: + +“The words may sound hard, but he has broken faith with you, and openly +dishonored you.” + +“And shall I believe it?” said Nefert with a scornful laugh. “Shall +I believe it, because a scoundrel has written it, who has pawned his +father’s body and the honor of big family; because it is told you by +that noble and brave gentleman! why a box on the ears from Mena would +be the death of him. Look at me, mother, here are my eyes, and if +that table there were Mena’s tent, and you were Mena, and you took the +fairest woman living by the hand and led her into it, and these eyes saw +it--aye, over and over again--I would laugh at it--as I laugh at it now; +and I should say, ‘Who knows what he may have to give her, or to say to +her,’ and not for one instant would I doubt his truth; for your son is +false and Mena is true. Osiris broke faith with Isis--but Mena may be +favored by a hundred women--he will take none to his tent but me!” + +“Keep your belief,” said Katuti bitterly, “but leave me mine.” + +“Yours?” said Nefert, and her flushed cheeks turned pale again. “What do +you believe? You listen to the worst and basest things that can be said +of a man who has overloaded you with benefits! A wretch, bah! an ignoble +wretch? Is that what you call a man who lets you dispose of his estate +as you please!” + +“Nefert,” cried Katuti angrily, “I will--” + +“Do what you will,” interrupted her indignant daughter, “but do not +vilify the generous man who has never hindered you from throwing away +his property on your son’s debts and your own ambition. Since the +day before yesterday I have learned that we are not rich; and I have +reflected, and I have asked myself what has become of our corn and our +cattle, of our sheep and the rents from the farmers. The wretch’s estate +was not so contemptible; but I tell you plainly I should be unworthy to +be the wife of the noble Mena if I allowed any one to vilify his name +under his own roof. Hold to your belief, by all means, but one of us +must quit this house--you or I.” + +At these words Nefert broke into passionate sobs, threw herself on her +knees by her couch, hid her face in the cushions, and wept convulsively +and without intermission. + +Katuti stood behind her, startled, trembling, and not knowing what to +say. Was this her gentle, dreamy daughter? Had ever a daughter dared to +speak thus to her mother? But was she right or was Nefert? This question +was the pressing one; she knelt down by the side of the young wife, +put her arm round her, drew her head against her bosom, and whispered +pitifully: + +“You cruel, hard-hearted child; forgive your poor, miserable mother, and +do not make the measure of her wretchedness overflow.” + +Then Nefert rose, kissed her mother’s hand, and went silently into her +own room. + +Katuti remained alone; she felt as if a dead hand held her heart in its +icy grasp, and she muttered to herself: + +“Ani is right--nothing turns to good excepting that from which we expect +the worst.” + +She held her hand to her head, as if she had heard something too strange +to be believed. Her heart went after her daughter, but instead of +sympathizing with her she collected all her courage, and deliberately +recalled all the reproaches that Nefert had heaped upon her. She did not +spare herself a single word, and finally she murmured to herself: “She +can spoil every thing. For Mena’s sake she will sacrifice me and the +whole world; Mena and Rameses are one, and if she discovers what we are +plotting she will betray us without a moment’s hesitation. Hitherto +all has gone on without her seeing it, but to-day something has been +unsealed in her--an eye, a tongue, an ear, which have hitherto been +closed. She is like a deaf and dumb person, who by a sudden fright is +restored to speech and hearing. My favorite child will become the spy of +my actions, and my judge.” + +She gave no utterance to the last words, but she seemed to hear them +with her inmost ear; the voice that could speak to her thus, startled +and frightened her, and solitude was in itself a torture; she called +the dwarf, and desired him to have her litter prepared, as she intended +going to the temple, and visiting the wounded who had been sent home +from Syria. + +“And the handkerchief for the Regent?” asked the little man. + +“It was a pretext,” said Katuti. “He wishes to speak to you about the +matter which you know of with regard to Paaker. What is it?” + +“Do not ask,” replied Nemu, “I ought not to betray it. By Besa, who +protects us dwarfs, it is better that thou shouldst never know it.” + +“For to-day I have learned enough that is new to me,” retorted Katuti. +“Now go to Ani, and if you are able to throw Paaker entirely into +his power--good--I will give--but what have I to give away? I will be +grateful to you; and when we have gained our end I will set you free and +make you rich.” + +Nemu kissed her robe, and said in a low voice: “What is the end?” + +“You know what Ani is striving for,” answered the widow. “And I have but +one wish!” + +“And that is?” + +“To see Paaker in Mena’s place.” + +“Then our wishes are the same,” said the dwarf and he left the Hall. + +Katuti looked after him and muttered: + +“It must be so. For if every thing remains as it was and Mena comes home +and demands a reckoning--it is not to be thought of! It must not be!” + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +As Nemu, on his way back from his visit to Ani, approached his +mistress’s house, he was detained by a boy, who desired him to follow +him to the stranger’s quarter. Seeing him hesitate, the messenger showed +him the ring of his mother Hekt, who had come into the town on business, +and wanted to speak with him. + +Nemu was tired, for he was not accustomed to walking; his ass was dead, +and Katuti could not afford to give him another. Half of Mena’s beasts +had been sold, and the remainder barely sufficed for the field-labor. + +At the corners of the busiest streets, and on the market-places, stood +boys with asses which they hired out for a small sum; + + [In the streets of modern Egyptian towns asses stand saddled for + hire. On the monuments only foreigners are represented as riding on + asses, but these beasts are mentioned in almost every list of the + possessions of the nobles, even in very early times, and the number + is often considerable. There is a picture extant of a rich old man + who rides on a seat supported on the backs of two donkeys. Lepsius, + Denkmaler, part ii. 126.] + +but Nemu had parted with his last money for a garment and a new wig, so +that he might appear worthily attired before the Regent. In former times +his pocket had never been empty, for Mena had thrown him many a ring of +silver, or even of gold, but his restless and ambitious spirit wasted no +regrets on lost luxuries. He remembered those years of superfluity with +contempt, and as he puffed and panted on his way through the dust, he +felt himself swell with satisfaction. + +The Regent had admitted him to a private interview, and the little man +had soon succeeded in riveting his attention; Ani had laughed till the +tears rolled down his cheeks at Nemu’s description of Paaker’s wild +passion, and he had proved himself in earnest over the dwarf’s further +communications, and had met his demands half-way. Nemu felt like a duck +hatched on dry land, and put for the first time into water; like a bird +hatched in a cage, and that for the first time is allowed to spread its +wings and fly. He would have swum or have flown willingly to death if +circumstances had not set a limit to his zeal and energy. + +Bathed in sweat and coated with dust, he at last reached the gay tent +in the stranger’s quarter, where the sorceress Hekt was accustomed to +alight when she came over to Thebes. + +He was considering far-reaching projects, dreaming of possibilities, +devising subtle plans--rejecting them as too subtle, and supplying +their place with others more feasible and less dangerous; altogether +the little diplomatist had no mind for the motley tribes which here +surrounded him. He had passed the temple in which the people of Kaft +adored their goddess Astarte, and the sanctuary of Seth, where they +sacrificed to Baal, without letting himself be disturbed by the dancing +devotees or the noise of cymbals and music which issued from their +enclosures. The tents and slightly-built wooden houses of the dancing +girls did not tempt him. Besides their inhabitants, who in the evening +tricked themselves out in tinsel finery to lure the youth of Thebes into +extravagance and folly, and spent their days in sleeping till sun-down, +only the gambling booths drove a brisk business; and the guard of police +had much trouble to restrain the soldier, who had staked and lost all +his prize money, or the sailor, who thought himself cheated, from such +outbreaks of rage and despair as must end in bloodshed. Drunken men +lay in front of the taverns, and others were doing their utmost, by +repeatedly draining their beakers, to follow their example. + +Nothing was yet to be seen of the various musicians, jugglers, +fire-eaters, serpent-charmers, and conjurers, who in the evening +displayed their skill in this part of the town, which at all times had +the aspect of a never ceasing fair. But these delights, which Nemu had +passed a thousand times, had never had any temptation for him. Women and +gambling were not to his taste; that which could be had simply for the +taking, without trouble or exertion, offered no charms to his fancy, +he had no fear of the ridicule of the dancing-women, and their +associates--indeed, he occasionally sought them, for he enjoyed a war +of words, and he was of opinion that no one in Thebes could beat him at +having the last word. Other people, indeed, shared this opinion, and not +long before Paaker’s steward had said of Nemu: + +“Our tongues are cudgels, but the little one’s is a dagger.” + +The destination of the dwarf was a very large and gaudy tent, not in any +way distinguished from a dozen others in its neighborhood. The opening +which led into it was wide, but at present closed by a hanging of coarse +stuff. + +Nemu squeezed himself in between the edge of the tent and the yielding +door, and found himself in an almost circular tent with many angles, and +with its cone-shaped roof supported on a pole by way of a pillar. + +Pieces of shabby carpet lay on the dusty soil that was the floor of the +tent, and on these squatted some gaily-clad girls, whom an old woman was +busily engaged in dressing. She painted the finger and toenails of +the fair ones with orange-colored Hennah, blackened their brows and +eye-lashes with Mestem--[Antimony.]--to give brilliancy to their glance, +painted their cheeks with white and red, and anointed their hair with +scented oil. + +It was very hot in the tent, and not one of the girls spoke a word; they +sat perfectly still before the old woman, and did not stir a finger, +excepting now and then to take up one of the porous clay pitchers, which +stood on the ground, for a draught of water, or to put a pill of Kyphi +between their painted lips. + +Various musical instruments leaned against the walls of the tent, +hand-drums, pipes and lutes and four tambourines lay on the ground; on +the vellum of one slept a cat, whose graceful kittens played with the +bells in the hoop of another. + +An old negro-woman went in and out of the little back-door of the tent, +pursued by flies and gnats, while she cleared away a variety of earthen +dishes with the remains of food--pomegranate-peelings, breadcrumbs, and +garlic-tops--which had been lying on one of the carpets for some hours +since the girls had finished their dinner. + +Old Hekt sat apart from the girls on a painted trunk, and she was +saying, as she took a parcel from her wallet: + +“Here, take this incense, and burn six seeds of it, and the vermin will +all disappear--” she pointed to the flies that swarmed round the platter +in her hand. “If you like I will drive away the mice too and draw the +snakes out of their holes better than the priests.” + + [Recipes for exterminating noxious creatures are found in the + papyrus in my possession.] + +“Keep your magic to yourself,” said a girl in a husky voice. “Since +you muttered your words over me, and gave me that drink to make me grow +slight and lissom again, I have been shaken to pieces with a cough at +night, and turn faint when I am dancing.” + +“But look how slender you have grown,” answered Hekt, “and your cough +will soon be well.” + +“When I am dead,” whispered the girl to the old woman. “I know that most +of us end so.” + +The witch shrugged her shoulders, and perceiving the dwarf she rose from +her seat. + +The girls too noticed the little man, and set up the indescribable cry, +something like the cackle of hens, which is peculiar to Eastern women +when something tickles their fancy. Nemu was well known to them, for his +mother always stayed in their tent whenever she came to Thebes, and the +gayest of them cried out: + +“You are grown, little man, since the last time you were here.” + +“So are you,” said the dwarf sharply; “but only as far as big words are +concerned.” + +“And you are as wicked as you are small,” retorted the girl. + +“Then my wickedness is small too,” said the dwarf laughing, “for I am +little enough! Good morning, girls--may Besa help your beauty. Good day, +mother--you sent for me?” + +The old woman nodded; the dwarf perched himself on the chest beside her, +and they began to whisper together. + +“How dusty and tired you are,” said Hekt. I do believe you have come on +foot in the burning sun.” + +“My ass is dead,” replied Nemu, “and I have no money to hire a steed.” + +“A foretaste of future splendor,” said the old woman with a sneer. “What +have you succeeded in doing?” + +“Paaker has saved us,” replied Nemu, “and I have just come from a long +interview with the Regent.” + +“Well?” + +“He will renew your letter of freedom, if you will put Paaker into his +power.” + +“Good-good. I wish he would make up his mind to come and seek me--in +disguise, of course--I would--” + +“He is very timid, and it would not suggest to him anything so +unpracticable.” + +“Hm--” said Hekt, “perhaps you are right, for when we have to demand a +good deal it is best only to ask for what is feasible. One rash request +often altogether spoils the patron’s inclination for granting favors.” + +“What else has occurred?” + +“The Regent’s army has conquered the Ethiopians, and is coming home with +rich spoils.” + +“People may be bought with treasure,” muttered the old woman, “I +good--good!” + +“Paaker’s sword is sharpened; I would give no more for my master’s life, +than I have in my pocket--and you know why I came on foot through the +dust.” + +“Well, you can ride home again,” replied his mother, giving the little +man a small silver ring. “Has the pioneer seen Nefert again?” + +“Strange things have happened,” said the dwarf, and he told his +mother what had taken place between Katuti and Nefert. Nemu was a good +listener, and had not forgotten a word of what he had heard. + +The old woman listened to his story with the most eager attention. + +“Well, well,” she muttered, “here is another extraordinary thing. What +is common to all men is generally disgustingly similar in the palace +and in the hovel. Mothers are everywhere she-apes, who with pleasure let +themselves be tormented to death by their children, who repay them badly +enough, and the wives generally open their ears wide if any one can tell +them of some misbehavior of their husbands! But that is not the way with +your mistress.” + +The old woman looked thoughtful, and then she continued: + +“In point of fact this can be easily explained, and is not at all more +extraordinary than it is that those tired girls should sit yawning. You +told me once that it was a pretty sight to see the mother and daughter +side by side in their chariot when they go to a festival or the +Panegyrai; Katuti, you said, took care that the colors of their dresses +and the flowers in their hair should harmonize. For which of them is the +dress first chosen on such occasions?” + +“Always for the lady Katuti, who never wears any but certain colors,” + replied Nemu quickly. + +“You see,” said the witch laughing, “Indeed it must be so. That mother +always thinks of herself first, and of the objects she wishes to gain; +but they hang high, and she treads down everything that is in her +way--even her own child--to reach them. She will contrive that Paaker +shall be the ruin of Mena, as sure as I have ears to hear with, for +that woman is capable of playing any tricks with her daughter, and would +marry her to that lame dog yonder if it would advance her ambitious +schemes.” + +“But Nefert!” said Nemu. “You should have seen her. The dove became a +lioness.” + +“Because she loves Mena as much as her mother loves herself,” answered +Hekt. “As the poets say, ‘she is full of him.’ It is really true of her, +there is no room for any thing else. She cares for one only, and woe to +those who come between him and her!” + +“I have seen other women in love,” said Nemu, “but--” + +“But,” exclaimed the old witch with such a sharp laugh that the girls +all looked up, “they behaved differently to Nefert--I believe you, for +there is not one in a thousand that loves as she does. It is a sickness +that gives raging pain--like a poisoned arrow in an open wound, and +devours all that is near it like a fire-brand, and is harder to cure +than the disease which is killing that coughing wench. To be possessed +by that demon of anguish is to suffer the torture of the damned--or +else,” and her voice sank to softness, “to be more blest than the Gods, +happy as they are. I know--I know it all; for I was once one of the +possessed, one of a thousand, and even now--” + +“Well?” asked the dwarf. + +“Folly!” muttered the witch, stretching herself as if awaking from +sleep. “Madness! He--is long since dead, and if he were not it would be +all the same to me. All men are alike, and Mena will be like the rest.” + +“But Paaker surely is governed by the demon you describe?” asked the +dwarf. + +“May be,” replied his mother; “but he is self-willed to madness. He +would simply give his life for the thing because it is denied him. If +your mistress Nefert were his, perhaps he might be easier; but what is +the use of chattering? I must go over to the gold tent, where everyone +goes now who has any money in their purse, to speak to the mistress--” + +“What do you want with her?” interrupted Nemu. “Little Uarda over +there,” said the old woman, “will soon be quite well again. You have +seen her lately; is she not grown beautiful, wonderfully beautiful? Now +I shall see what the good woman will offer me if I take Uarda to her? +the girl is as light-footed as a gazelle, and with good training would +learn to dance in a very few weeks.” + +Nemu turned perfectly white. + +“That you shall not do,” said he positively. + +“And why not?” asked the old woman, “if it pays well.” + +“Because I forbid it,” said the dwarf in a choked voice. + +“Bless me,” laughed the woman; “you want to play my lady Nefert, and +expect me to take the part of her mother Katuti. But, seriously, having +seen the child again, have you any fancy for her?” + +“Yes,” replied Nemu. “If we gain our end, Katuti will make me free, and +make me rich. Then I will buy Pinem’s grandchild, and take her for +my wife. I will build a house near the hall of justice, and give the +complainants and defendants private advice, like the hunch-back Sent, +who now drives through the streets in his own chariot.” + +“Hm--” said his mother, “that might have done very well, but perhaps it +is too late. When the child had fever she talked about the young priest +who was sent from the House of Seti by Ameni. He is a fine tall +fellow, and took a great interest in her; he is a gardener’s son, named +Pentaur.” + +“Pentaur?” said the dwarf. “Pentaur? He has the haughty air and the +expression of the old Mohar, and would be sure to rise; but they are +going to break his proud neck for him.” + +“So much the better,” said the old woman. “Uarda would be just the wife +for you, she is good and steady, and no one knows--” + +“What?” said Nemu. + +“Who her mother was--for she was not one of us. She came here from +foreign parts, and when she died she left a trinket with strange letters +on it. We must show it to one of the prisoners of war, after you have +got her safe; perhaps they could make out the queer inscription. She +comes of a good stock, that I am certain; for Uarda is the very living +image of her mother, and as soon as she was born, she looked like the +child of a great man. You smile, you idiot! Why thousands of infants +have been in my hands, and if one was brought to me wrapped in rags I +could tell if its parents were noble or base-born. The shape of the foot +shows it--and other marks. Uarda may stay where she is, and I will help +you. If anything new occurs let me know.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +When Nemu, riding on an ass this time, reached home, he found neither +his mistress nor Nefert within. + +The former was gone, first to the temple, and then into the town; +Nefert, obeying an irresistible impulse, had gone to her royal friend +Bent-Anat. + +The king’s palace was more like a little town than a house. The wing in +which the Regent resided, and which we have already visited, lay away +from the river; while the part of the building which was used by the +royal family commanded the Nile. + +It offered a splendid, and at the same time a pleasing prospect to the +ships which sailed by at its foot, for it stood, not a huge and solitary +mass in the midst of the surrounding gardens, but in picturesque groups +of various outline. On each side of a large structure, which contained +the state rooms and banqueting hall, three rows of pavilions of +different sizes extended in symmetrical order. They were connected +with each other by colonnades, or by little bridges, under which flowed +canals, that watered the gardens and gave the palace-grounds the aspect +of a town built on islands. + +The principal part of the castle of the Pharaohs was constructed of +light Nile-mud bricks and elegantly carved woodwork, but the extensive +walls which surrounded it were ornamented and fortified with towers, in +front of which heavily armed soldiers stood on guard. + +The walls and pillars, the galleries and colonnades, even the roofs, +blazed in many colored paints, and at every gate stood tall masts, from +which red and blue flags fluttered when the king was residing there. +Now they stood up with only their brass spikes, which were intended +to intercept and conduct the lightning.--[ According to an inscription +first interpreted by Dumichen.] + +To the right of the principal building, and entirely surrounded with +thick plantations of trees, stood the houses of the royal ladies, +some mirrored in the lake which they surrounded at a greater or less +distance. In this part of the grounds were the king’s storehouses in +endless rows, while behind the centre building, in which the Pharaoh +resided, stood the barracks for his body guard and the treasuries. The +left wing was occupied by the officers of the household, the innumerable +servants and the horses and chariots of the sovereign. + +In spite of the absence of the king himself, brisk activity reigned in +the palace of Rameses, for a hundred gardeners watered the turf, the +flower-borders, the shrubs and trees; companies of guards passed hither +and thither; horses were being trained and broken; and the princess’s +wing was as full as a beehive of servants and maids, officers and +priests. + +Nefert was well known in this part of the palace. The gate-keepers let +her litter pass unchallenged, with low bows; once in the garden, a lord +in waiting received her, and conducted her to the chamberlain, who, +after a short delay, introduced her into the sitting-room of the king’s +favorite daughter. + +Bent-Anat’s apartment was on the first floor of the pavilion, next +to the king’s residence. Her dead mother had inhabited these pleasant +rooms, and when the princess was grown up it made the king happy to feel +that she was near him; so the beautiful house of the wife who had too +early departed, was given up to her, and at the same time, as she +was his eldest daughter, many privileges were conceded to her, which +hitherto none but queens had enjoyed. + +The large room, in which Nefert found the princess, commanded the river. +A doorway, closed with light curtains, opened on to a long balcony with +a finely-worked balustrade of copper-gilt, to which clung a climbing +rose with pink flowers. + +When Nefert entered the room, Bent-Anat was just having the rustling +curtain drawn aside by her waiting-women; for the sun was setting, and +at that hour she loved to sit on the balcony, as it grew cooler, +and watch with devout meditation the departure of Ra, who, as the +grey-haired Turn, vanished behind the western horizon of the Necropolis +in the evening to bestow the blessing of light on the under-world. + +Nefert’s apartment was far more elegantly appointed than the princess’s; +her mother and Mena had surrounded her with a thousand pretty trifles. +Her carpets were made of sky-blue and silver brocade from Damascus, the +seats and couches were covered with stuff embroidered in feathers by the +Ethiopian women, which looked like the breasts of birds. The images of +the Goddess Hathor, which stood on the house-altar, were of an imitation +of emerald, which was called Mafkat, and the other little figures, which +were placed near their patroness, were of lapis-lazuli, malachite, agate +and bronze, overlaid with gold. On her toilet-table stood a collection +of salve-boxes, and cups of ebony and ivory finely carved, and +everything was arranged with the utmost taste, and exactly suited Nefert +herself. + +Bent-Anat’s room also suited the owner. + +It was high and airy, and its furniture consisted in costly but simple +necessaries; the lower part of the wall was lined with cool tiles of +white and violet earthen ware, on each of which was pictured a star, and +which, all together, formed a tasteful pattern. Above these the walls +were covered with a beautiful dark green material brought from Sais, and +the same stuff was used to cover the long divans by the wall. Chairs and +stools, made of cane, stood round a very large table in the middle +of this room, out of which several others opened; all handsome, +comfortable, and harmonious in aspect, but all betraying that their +mistress took small pleasure in trifling decorations. But her chief +delight was in finely-grown plants, of which rare and magnificent +specimens, artistically arranged on stands, stood in the corners of many +of the rooms. In others there were tall obelisks of ebony, which bore +saucers for incense, which all the Egyptians loved, and which was +prescribed by their physicians to purify and perfume their dwellings. +Her simple bedroom would have suited a prince who loved floriculture, +quite as well as a princess. + +Before all things Bent-Anat loved air and light. The curtains of +her windows and doors were only closed when the position of the sun +absolutely required it; while in Nefert’s rooms, from morning till +evening, a dim twilight was maintained. + +The princess went affectionately towards the charioteer’s wife, who +bowed low before her at the threshold; she took her chin with her right +hand, kissed her delicate narrow forehead, and said: + +“Sweet creature! At last you have come uninvited to see lonely me! It is +the first time since our men went away to the war. If Rameses’ daughter +commands there is no escape; and you come; but of your own free will--” + +Nefert raised her large eyes, moist with tears, with an imploring look, +and her glance was so pathetic that Bent-Anat interrupted herself, and +taking both her hands, exclaimed: + +“Do you know who must have eyes exactly like yours? I mean the Goddess +from whose tears, when they fall on the earth, flowers spring.” + +Nefert’s eyes fell and she blushed deeply. + +“I wish,” she murmured, “that my eyes might close for ever, for I am +very unhappy.” And two large tears rolled down her cheeks. + +“What has happened to you, my darling?” asked the princess +sympathetically, and she drew her towards her, putting her arm round her +like a sick child. + +Nefert glanced anxiously at the chamberlain, and the ladies in waiting +who had entered the room with her, and Bent-Anat understood the look; +she requested her attendants to withdraw, and when she was alone with +her sad little friend--“Speak now,” she said. “What saddens your heart? +how comes this melancholy expression on your dear baby face? Tell me, +and I will comfort you, and you shall be my bright thoughtless plaything +once more.” + +“Thy plaything!” answered Nefert, and a flash of displeasure sparkled in +her eyes. “Thou art right to call me so, for I deserve no better name. I +have submitted all my life to be nothing but the plaything of others.” + +“But, Nefert, I do not know you again,” cried Bent-Anat. “Is this my +gentle amiable dreamer?” + +“That is the word I wanted,” said Nefert in a low tone. “I slept, and +dreamed, and dreamed on--till Mena awoke me; and when he left me I went +to sleep again, and for two whole years I have lain dreaming; but to-day +I have been torn from my dreams so suddenly and roughly, that I shall +never find any rest again.” + +While she spoke, heavy tears fell slowly one after another over her +cheeks. + +Bent-Anat felt what she saw and heard as deeply as if Nefert were her +own suffering child. She lovingly drew the young wife down by her +side on the divan, and insisted on Nefert’s letting her know all that +troubled her spirit. + +Katuti’s daughter had in the last few hours felt like one born blind, +and who suddenly receives his sight. He looks at the brightness of the +sun, and the manifold forms of the creation around him, but the beams of +the day-star blind its eyes, and the new forms, which he has sought to +guess at in his mind, and which throng round him in their rude reality, +shock him and pain him. To-day, for the first time, she had asked +herself wherefore her mother, and not she herself, was called upon to +control the house of which she nevertheless was called the mistress, and +the answer had rung in her ears: “Because Mena thinks you incapable of +thought and action.” He had often called her his little rose, and she +felt now that she was neither more nor less than a flower that blossoms +and fades, and only charms the eye by its color and beauty. + +“My mother,” she said to Bent-Anat, “no doubt loves me, but she has +managed badly for Mena, very badly; and I, miserable idiot, slept and +dreamed of Mena, and saw and heard nothing of what was happening to +his--to our--inheritance. Now my mother is afraid of my husband, and +those whom we fear, says my uncle, we cannot love, and we are always +ready to believe evil of those we do not love. So she lends an ear to +those people who blame Mena, and say of him that he has driven me out +of his heart, and has taken a strange woman to his tent. But it is false +and a lie; and I cannot and will not countenance my own mother even, if +she embitters and mars what is left to me--what supports me--the breath +and blood of my life--my love, my fervent love for my husband.” + +Bent-Anat had listened to her without interrupting her; she sat by her +for a time in silence. Then she said: + +“Come out into the gallery; then I will tell you what I think, and +perhaps Toth may pour some helpful counsel into my mind. I love you, +and I know you well, and though I am not wise, I have my eyes open and a +strong hand. Take it, come with me on to the balcony.” + +A refreshing breeze met the two women as they stepped out into the air. +It was evening, and a reviving coolness had succeeded the heat of the +day. The buildings and houses already cast long shadows, and numberless +boats, with the visitors returning from the Necropolis, crowded the +stream that rolled its swollen flood majestically northwards. + +Close below lay the verdant garden, which sent odors from the rose-beds +up to the princess’s balcony. A famous artist had laid it out in the +time of Hatasu, and the picture which he had in his mind, when he sowed +the seeds and planted the young shoots, was now realized, many decades +after his death. He had thought of planning a carpet, on which the +palace should seem to stand. Tiny streams, in bends and curves, formed +the outline of the design, and the shapes they enclosed were filled with +plants of every size, form, and color; beautiful plats of fresh +green turf everywhere represented the groundwork of the pattern, and +flower-beds and clumps of shrubs stood out from them in harmonious +mixtures of colors, while the tall and rare trees, of which Hatasu’s +ships had brought several from Arabia, gave dignity and impressiveness +to the whole. + +Clear drops sparkled on leaf and flower and blade, for, only a short +time before, the garden by Bent-Anat’s house had been freshly watered. +The Nile beyond surrounded an island, where flourished the well-kept +sacred grove of Anion. + +The Necropolis on the farther side of the river was also well seen +from Bent-Anat’s balcony. There stood in long perspective the rows of +sphinxes, which led from the landing-place of the festal barges to the +gigantic buildings of Amenophis III. with its colossi--the hugest in +Thebes--to the House of Seti, and to the temple of Hatasu. There lay +the long workshops of the embalmers and closely-packed homes of the +inhabitants of the City of the Dead. In the farthest west rose the +Libyan mountains with their innumerable graves, and the valley of the +kings’ tombs took a wide curve behind, concealed by a spur of the hills. + +The two women looked in silence towards the west. The sun was near the +horizon--now it touched it, now it sank behind the hills; and as the +heavens flushed with hues like living gold, blazing rubies, and liquid +garnet and amethyst, the evening chant rang out from all the temples, +and the friends sank on their knees, hid their faces in the bower-rose +garlands that clung to the trellis, and prayed with full hearts. + +When they rose night was spreading over the landscape, for the twilight +is short in Thebes. Here and there a rosy cloud fluttered across the +darkening sky, and faded gradually as the evening star appeared. + +“I am content,” said Bent-Anat. “And you? have you recovered your peace +of mind?” + +Nefert shook her head. The princess drew her on to a seat, and sank down +beside her. Then she began again “Your heart is sore, poor child; they +have spoilt the past for you, and you dread the future. Let me be frank +with you, even if it gives you pain. You are sick, and I must cure you. +Will you listen to me?” + +“Speak on,” said Nefert. + +“Speech does not suit me so well as action,” replied the princess; “but +I believe I know what you need, and can help you. You love your husband; +duty calls him from you, and you feel lonely and neglected; that is +quite natural. But those whom I love, my father and my brothers, are +also gone to the war; my mother is long since dead; the noble woman, +whom the king left to be my companion, was laid low a few weeks since +by sickness. Look what a half-abandoned spot my house is! Which is the +lonelier do you think, you or I?” + +“I,” said Nefert. “For no one is so lonely as a wife parted from the +husband her heart longs after.” + +“But you trust Mena’s love for you?” asked Bent-Anat. + +Nefert pressed her hand to her heart and nodded assent: + +“And he will return, and with him your happiness.” + +“I hope so,” said Nefert softly. + +“And he who hopes,” said Bent Anat, “possesses already the joys of the +future. Tell me, would you have changed places with the Gods so long +as Mena was with you? No! Then you are most fortunate, for blissful +memories--the joys of the past--are yours at any rate. What is the +present? I speak of it, and it is no more. Now, I ask you, what joys can +I look forward to, and what certain happiness am I justified in hoping +for? + +“Thou dost not love any one,” replied Nefert. “Thou dost follow thy own +course, calm and undeviating as the moon above us. The highest joys +are unknown to thee, but for the same reason thou dost not know the +bitterest pain.” + +“What pain?” asked the princess. + +“The torment of a heart consumed by the fires of Sechet,” replied +Nefert. + +The princess looked thoughtfully at the ground, then she turned her eyes +eagerly on her friend. + +“You are mistaken,” she said; “I know what love and longing are. But +you need only wait till a feast day to wear the jewel that is your own, +while my treasure is no more mine than a pearl that I see gleaming at +the bottom of the sea.” + +“Thou canst love!” exclaimed Nefert with joyful excitement. “Oh! I thank +Hathor that at last she has touched thy heart. The daughter of Rameses +need not even send for the diver to fetch the jewel out of the sea; at a +sign from her the pearl will rise of itself, and lie on the sand at her +slender feet.” + +Bent-Anat smiled and kissed Nefert’s brow. + +“How it excites you,” she said, “and stirs your heart and tongue! If two +strings are tuned in harmony, and one is struck, the other sounds, my +music master tells me. I believe you would listen to me till morning if +I only talked to you about my love. But it was not for that that we +came out on the balcony. Now listen! I am as lonely as you, I love less +happily than you, the House of Seti threatens me with evil times--and +yet I can preserve my full confidence in life and my joy in existence. +How can you explain this?” + +“We are so very different,” said Nefert. + +“True,” replied Bent-Anat, “but we are both young, both women, and both +wish to do right. My mother died, and I have had no one to guide me, for +I who for the most part need some one to lead me can already command, +and be obeyed. You had a mother to bring you up, who, when you were +still a child, was proud of her pretty little daughter, and let her--as +it became her so well-dream and play, without warning her against the +dangerous propensity. Then Mena courted you. You love him truly, and +in four long years he has been with you but a month or two; your mother +remained with you, and you hardly observed that she was managing your +own house for you, and took all the trouble of the household. You had +a great pastime of your own--your thoughts of Mena, and scope for a +thousand dreams in your distant love. I know it, Nefert; all that you +have seen and heard and felt in these twenty months has centred in him +and him alone. Nor is it wrong in itself. The rose tree here, which +clings to my balcony, delights us both; but if the gardener did not +frequently prune it and tie it with palm-bast, in this soil, which +forces everything to rapid growth, it would soon shoot up so high that +it would cover door and window, and I should sit in darkness. Throw this +handkerchief over your shoulders, for the dew falls as it grows cooler, +and listen to me a little longer!--The beautiful passion of love and +fidelity has grown unchecked in your dreamy nature to such a height, +that it darkens your spirit and your judgment. Love, a true love, it +seems to me, should be a noble fruit-tree, and not a rank weed. I do not +blame you, for she who should have been the gardener did not heed--and +would not heed--what was happening. Look, Nefert, so long as I wore the +lock of youth, I too did what I fancied--I never found any pleasure in +dreaming, but in wild games with my brothers, in horses and in falconry; +they often said I had the spirit of a boy, and indeed I would willingly +have been a boy.” + +“Not I--never!” said Nefert. + +“You are just a rose--my dearest,” said Bent-Anat. “Well! when I was +fifteen I was so discontented, so insubordinate and full of all sorts +of wild behavior, so dissatisfied in spite of all the kindness and love +that surrounded me--but I will tell you what happened. It is four years +ago, shortly before your wedding with Mena; my father called me to play +draughts. + + [At Medinet Habu a picture represents Rameses the Third, not Rameses + the Second, playing at draughts with his daughter.] + +You know how certainly he could beat the most skilful antagonist; +but that day his thoughts were wandering, and I won the game twice +following. Full of insolent delight, I jumped up and kissed his great +handsome forehead, and cried ‘The sublime God, the hero, under whose +feet the strange nations writhe, to whom the priests and the people +pray--is beaten by a girl!’ He smiled gently, and answered ‘The Lords of +Heaven are often outdone by the Ladies, and Necheb, the lady of victory, +is a woman. Then he grew graver, and said: ‘You call me a God, my child, +but in this only do I feel truly godlike, that at every moment I strive +to the utmost to prove myself useful by my labors; here restraining, +there promoting, as is needful. Godlike I can never be but by doing or +producing something great! These words, Nefert, fell like seeds in my +soul. At last I knew what it was that was wanting to me; and when, a few +weeks later, my father and your husband took the field with a hundred +thousand fighting men, I resolved to be worthy of my godlike father, and +in my little circle to be of use too! You do not know all that is done +in the houses behind there, under my direction. Three hundred girls +spin pure flax, and weave it into bands of linen for the wounds of +the soldiers; numbers of children, and old women, gather plants on +the mountains, and others sort them according to the instructions of +a physician; in the kitchens no banquets are prepared, but fruits are +preserved in sugar for the loved ones, and the sick in the camp. Joints +of meat are salted, dried, and smoked for the army on its march through +the desert. The butler no longer thinks of drinking-bouts, but brings +me wine in great stone jars; we pour it into well-closed skins for the +soldiers, and the best sorts we put into strong flasks, carefully sealed +with pitch, that they may perform the journey uninjured, and warm and +rejoice the hearts of our heroes. All that, and much more, I manage +and arrange, and my days pass in hard work. The Gods send me no bright +visions in the night, for after utter fatigue--I sleep soundly. But +I know that I am of use. I can hold my head proudly, because in some +degree I resemble my great father; and if the king thinks of me at all +I know he can rejoice in the doings of his child. That is the end of it, +Nefert--and I only say, Come and join me, work with me, prove yourself +of use, and compel Mena to think of his wife, not with affection only, +but with pride.” Nefert let her head sink slowly on Bent-Anat’s bosom, +threw her arms round her neck, and wept like a child. At last she +composed herself and said humbly: + +“Take me to school, and teach me to be useful.” “I knew,” said the +princess smiling, “that you only needed a guiding hand. Believe me, you +will soon learn to couple content and longing. But now hear this! At +present go home to your mother, for it is late; and meet her lovingly, +for that is the will of the Gods. To-morrow morning I will go to see +you, and beg Katuti to let you come to me as companion in the place +of my lost friend. The day after to-morrow you will come to me in the +palace. You can live in the rooms of my departed friend and begin, as +she had done, to help me in my work. May these hours be blest to you!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +At the time of this conversation the leech Nebsecht still lingered +in front of the hovel of the paraschites, and waited with growing +impatience for the old man’s return. + +At first he trembled for him; then he entirely forgot the danger into +which he had thrown him, and only hoped for the fulfilment of his +desires, and for wonderful revelations through his investigations of the +human heart. + +For some minutes he gave himself up to scientific considerations; but he +became more and more agitated by anxiety for the paraschites, and by the +exciting vicinity of Uarda. + +For hours he had been alone with her, for her father and grandmother +could no longer stop away from their occupations. The former must go +to escort prisoners of war to Hermonthis, and the old woman, since her +granddaughter had been old enough to undertake the small duties of +the household, had been one of the wailing-women, who, with hair all +dishevelled, accompanied the corpse on its way to the grave, weeping, +and lamenting, and casting Nile-mud on their forehead and breast. Uarda +still lay, when the sun was sinking, in front of the hut. + +She looked weary and pale. Her long hair had come undone, and once more +got entangled with the straw of her humble couch. If Nebsecht went near +her to feel her pulse or to speak to her she carefully turned her face +from him. + +Nevertheless when the sun disappeared behind the rocks he bent over her +once more, and said: + +“It is growing cool; shall I carry you indoors?” + +“Let me alone,” she said crossly. “I am hot, keep farther away. I am no +longer ill, and could go indoors by myself if I wished; but grandmother +will be here directly.” + +Nebsecht rose, and sat down on a hen-coop that was some paces from +Uarda, and asked stammering, “Shall I go farther off?” + +“Do as you please,” she answered. “You are not kind,” he said sadly. + +“You sit looking at me,” said Uarda, “I cannot bear it; and I am +uneasy--for grandfather was quite different this morning from his usual +self, and talked strangely about dying, and about the great price that +was asked of him for curing me. Then he begged me never to forget him, +and was so excited and so strange. He is so long away; I wish he were +here, with me.” + +And with these words Uarda began to cry silently. A nameless anxiety for +the paraschites seized Nebsecht, and it struck him to the heart that he +had demanded a human life in return for the mere fulfilment of a +duty. He knew the law well enough, and knew that the old man would be +compelled without respite or delay to empty the cup of poison if he were +found guilty of the theft of a human heart. + +It was dark: Uarda ceased weeping and said to the surgeon: + +“Can it be possible that he has gone into the city to borrow the great +sum of money that thou--or thy temple--demanded for thy medicine? But +there is the princess’s golden bracelet, and half of father’s prize, and +in the chest two years’ wages that grandmother had earned by wailing he +untouched. Is all that not enough?” + +The girl’s last question was full of resentment and reproach, and +Nebsecht, whose perfect sincerity was part of his very being, was +silent, as he would not venture to say yes. He had asked more in return +for his help than gold or silver. Now he remembered Pentaur’s warning, +and when the jackals began to bark he took up the fire-stick, + + [The hieroglyphic sign Sam seems to me to represent the wooden stick + used to produce fire (as among some savage tribes) by rapid friction + in a hollow piece of wood.] + +and lighted some fuel that was lying ready. Then he asked himself what +Uarda’s fate would be without her grandparents, and a strange plan +which had floated vaguely before him for some hours, began now to take a +distinct outline and intelligible form. He determined if the old man +did not return to ask the kolchytes or embalmers to admit him into their +guild--and for the sake of his adroitness they were not likely to refuse +him--then he would make Uarda his wife, and live apart from the world, +for her, for his studies, and for his new calling, in which he hoped to +learn a great deal. What did he care for comfort and proprieties, for +recognition from his fellow-men, and a superior position! + +He could hope to advance more quickly along the new stony path than on +the old beaten track. The impulse to communicate his acquired knowledge +to others he did not feel. Knowledge in itself amply satisfied him, and +he thought no more of his ties to the House of Seti. For three whole +days he had not changed his garments, no razor had touched his chin or +his scalp, not a drop of water had wetted his hands or his feet. He felt +half bewildered and almost as if he had already become an embalmer, +nay even a paraschites, one of the most despised of human beings. This +self-degradation had an infinite charm, for it brought him down to the +level of Uarda, and she, lying near him, sick and anxious, with her +dishevelled hair, exactly suited the future which he painted to himself. + +“Do you hear nothing?” Uarda asked suddenly. He listened. In the valley +there was a barking of dogs, and soon the paraschites and his wife +appeared, and, at the door of their hut, took leave of old Hekt, who had +met them on her return from Thebes. + +“You have been gone a long time,” cried Uarda, when her grandmother once +more stood before her. “I have been so frightened.” + +“The doctor was with you,” said the old woman going into the house +to prepare their simple meal, while the paraschites knelt down by his +granddaughter, and caressed her tenderly, but yet with respect, as if he +were her faithful servant rather than her blood-relation. + +Then he rose, and gave to Nebsecht, who was trembling with excitement, +the bag of coarse linen which he was in the habit of carrying tied to +him by a narrow belt. + +“The heart is in that,” he whispered to the leech; “take it out, and +give me back the bag, for my knife is in it, and I want it.” + +Nebsecht took the heart out of the covering with trembling hands and +laid it carefully down. Then he felt in the breast of his dress, and +going up to the paraschites he whispered: + +“Here, take the writing, hang it round your neck, and when you die I +will have the book of scripture wrapped up in your mummy cloths like a +great man. But that is not enough. The property that I inherited is in +the hands of my brother, who is a good man of business, and I have not +touched the interest for ten years. I will send it to you, and you and +your wife shall enjoy an old age free from care.” + +The paraschites had taken the little bag with the strip of papyrus, and +heard the leech to the end. Then he turned from him saying: “Keep thy +money; we are quits. That is if the child gets well,” he added humbly. + +“She is already half cured,” stammered Nebsecht. “But why will you--why +won’t you accept--” + +“Because till to day I have never begged nor borrowed,” said the +paraschites, “and I will not begin in my old age. Life for life. But +what I have done this day not Rameses with all his treasure could +repay.” + +Nebsecht looked down, and knew not how to answer the old man. + +His wife now came out; she set a bowl of lentils that she had hastily +warmed before the two men, with radishes and onions, + + [Radishes, onions, and garlic were the hors-d’oeuvre of an Egyptian + dinner. 1600 talents worth were consumed, according to Herodotus. + during the building of the pyramid of Cheops--L360,000 (in 1881.)] + +then she helped Uarda, who did not need to be carried, into the house, +and invited Nebsecht to share their meal. He accepted her invitation, +for he had eaten nothing since the previous evening. + +When the old woman had once more disappeared indoors, he asked the +paraschites: + +“Whose heart is it that you have brought me, and how did it come into +your hands?” + +“Tell me first,” said the other, “why thou hast laid such a heavy sin +upon my soul?” + +“Because I want to investigate the structure of the human heart,” said +Nebsecht, “so that, when I meet with diseased hearts, I may be able to +cure them.” + +The paraschites looked for a long time at the ground in silence; then he +said: + +“Art thou speaking the truth?” + +“Yes,” replied the leech with convincing emphasis. “I am glad,” said the +old man, “for thou givest help to the poor.” + +“As willingly as to the rich!” exclaimed Nebsecht. “But tell me now +where you got the heart.” + +“I went into the house of the embalmer,” said the old man, after he had +selected a few large flints, to which, with crafty blows, he gave the +shape of knives, “and there I found three bodies in which I had to make +the eight prescribed incisions with my flint-knife. When the dead lie +there undressed on the wooden bench they all look alike, and the begger +lies as still as the favorite son of a king. But I knew very well who +lay before me. The strong old body in the middle of the table was the +corpse of the Superior of the temple of Hatasu, and beyond, close by +each other, were laid a stone-mason of the Necropolis, and a poor girl +from the strangers’ quarter, who had died of consumption--two miserable +wasted figures. I had known the Prophet well, for I had met him a +hundred times in his gilt litter, and we always called him Rui, the +rich. I did my duty by all three, I was driven away with the usual +stoning, and then I arranged the inward parts of the bodies with my +mates. Those of the Prophet are to be preserved later in an alabaster +canopus, + + [This vase was called canopus at a later date. There were four of + them for each mummy.] + +those of the mason and the girl were put back in their bodies. + +“Then I went up to the three bodies, and I asked myself, to which I +should do such a wrong as to rob him of his heart. I turned to the two +poor ones, and I hastily went up to the sinning girl. Then I heard the +voice of the demon that cried out in my heart ‘The girl was poor and +despised like you while she walked on Seb, + + [Seb is the earth; Plutarch calls Seb Chronos. He is often spoken + of as the “father of the gods” on the monuments. He is the god of + time, and as the Egyptians regarded matter as eternal, it is not by + accident that the sign which represented the earth was also used for + eternity.] + +perhaps she may find compensation and peace in the other world if you +do not mutilate her; and when I turned to the mason’s lean corpse, and +looked at his hands, which were harder and rougher than my own, the +demon whispered the same. Then I stood before the strong, stout corpse +of the prophet Rui, who died of apoplexy, and I remembered the honor and +the riches that he had enjoyed on earth, and that he at least for a time +had known happiness and ease. And as soon as I was alone, I slipped my +hand into the bag, and changed the sheep’s heart for his. + +“Perhaps I am doubly guilty for playing such an accursed trick with the +heart of a high-priest; but Rui’s body will be hung round with a hundred +amulets, Scarabaei + + [Imitations of the sacred beetle Scarabaeus made of various + materials were frequently put into the mummies in the place of the + heart. Large specimens have often the 26th, 30th, and 64th chapters + of the Book of the Dead engraved on them, as they treat of the + heart.] + +will be placed over his heart, and holy oil and sacred sentences +will preserve him from all the fiends on his road to +Amenti,--[Underworld]--while no one will devote helping talismans to the +poor. And then! thou hast sworn, in that world, in the hall of judgment, +to take my guilt on thyself.” + +Nebsecht gave the old man his hand. + +“That I will,” said he, “and I should have chosen as you did. Now take +this draught, divide it in four parts, and give it to Uarda for four +evenings following. Begin this evening, and by the day after to-morrow I +think she will be quite well. I will come again and look after her. Now +go to rest, and let me stay a while out here; before the star of Isis is +extinguished I will be gone, for they have long been expecting me at the +temple.” + +When the paraschites came out of his but the next morning, Nebsecht had +vanished; but a blood-stained cloth that lay by the remains of the fire +showed the old man that the impatient investigator had examined the +heart of the high-priest during the night, and perhaps cut it up. + +Terror fell upon him, and in agony of mind he threw himself on his knees +as the golden bark of the Sun-God appeared on the horizon, and he prayed +fervently, first for Uarda, and then for the salvation of his imperilled +soul. + +He rose encouraged, convinced himself that his granddaughter was +progressing towards recovery, bid farewell to his wife, took his flint +knife and his bronze hook, + + [The brains of corpses were drawn out of the nose with a hook. + Herodotus II. 87.] + +and went to the house of the embalmer to follow his dismal calling. + +The group of buildings in which the greater number of the corpses +from Thebes went through the processes of mummifying, lay on the bare +desert-land at some distance from his hovel, southwards from the House +of Seti at the foot of the mountain. They occupied by themselves a +fairly large space, enclosed by a rough wall of dried mud-bricks. + +The bodies were brought in through the great gate towards the Nile, and +delivered to the kolchytes,--[The whole guild of embalmers]--while the +priests, paraschites, and tariclleutes,--[Salter of the bodies]--bearers +and assistants, who here did their daily work, as well as innumerable +water-carriers who came up from the Nile, loaded with skins, found their +way into the establishment by a side gate. + +At the farthest northern building of wood, with a separate gate, in +which the orders of the bereaved were taken, and often indeed those +of men still in active life, who thought to provide betimes for their +suitable interment. + +The crowd in this house was considerable. About fifty men and women were +moving in it at the present moment, all of different ranks, and not +only from Thebes but from many smaller towns of Upper Egypt, to make +purchases or to give commissions to the functionaries who were busy +here. + +This bazaar of the dead was well supplied, for coffins of every form +stood up against the walls, from the simplest chest to the richly gilt +and painted coffer, in form resembling a mummy. On wooden shelves +lay endless rolls of coarse and fine linen, in which the limbs of the +mummies were enveloped, and which were manufactured by the people of the +embalming establishment under the protection of the tutelar goddesses +of weavers, Neith, Isis and Nephthys, though some were ordered from a +distance, particularly from Sais. + +There was free choice for the visitors of this pattern-room in the +matter of mummy-cases and cloths, as well as of necklets, scarabaei, +statuettes, Uza-eyes, girdles, head-rests, triangles, split-rings, +staves, and other symbolic objects, which were attached to the dead as +sacred amulets, or bound up in the wrappings. + +There were innumerable stamps of baked clay, which were buried in the +earth to show any one who might dispute the limits, how far each grave +extended, images of the gods, which were laid in the sand to purify and +sanctify it--for by nature it belonged to Seth-Typhon--as well as the +figures called Schebti, which were either enclosed several together in +little boxes, or laid separately in the grave; it was supposed that they +would help the dead to till the fields of the blessed with the pick-axe, +plough, and seed-bag which they carried on their shoulders. + +The widow and the steward of the wealthy Superior of the temple of +Hatasu, and with them a priest of high rank, were in eager discussion +with the officials of the embalming-House, and were selecting the +most costly of the patterns of mummy-cases which were offered to +their inspection, the finest linen, and amulets of malachite, and +lapis-lazuli, of blood-stone, carnelian and green felspar, as well as +the most elegant alabaster canopi for the deceased; his body was to be +enclosed first in a sort of case of papier-mache, and then in a wooden +and a stone coffin. They wrote his name on a wax tablet which was ready +for the purpose, with those of his parents, his wife and children, +and all his titles; they ordered what verses should be written on his +coffin, what on the papyrus-rolls to be enclosed in it, and what should +be set out above his name. With regard to the inscription on the walls +of the tomb, the pedestal of the statue to be placed there and the face +of the stele--[Stone tablet with round pediment.]--to be erected in it, +yet further particulars would be given; a priest of the temple of +Seti was charged to write them, and to draw up a catalogue of the rich +offerings of the survivors. The last could be done later, when, after +the division of the property, the amount of the fortune he had left +could be ascertained. The mere mummifying of the body with the finest +oils and essences, cloths, amulets, and cases, would cost a talent of +silver, without the stone sarcophagus. + +The widow wore a long mourning robe, her forehead was lightly daubed +with Nile-mud, and in the midst of her chaffering with the functionaries +of the embalming-house, whose prices she complained of as enormous and +rapacious, from time to time she broke out into a loud wail of grief--as +the occasion demanded. + +More modest citizens finished their commissions sooner, though it was +not unusual for the income of a whole year to be sacrificed for the +embalming of the head of a household--the father or the mother of a +family. The mummifying of the poor was cheap, and that of the poorest +had to be provided by the kolchytes as a tribute to the king, to whom +also they were obliged to pay a tax in linen from their looms. + +This place of business was carefully separated from the rest of the +establishment, which none but those who were engaged in the processes +carried on there were on any account permitted to enter. The kolchytes +formed a closely-limited guild at the head of which stood a certain +number of priests, and from among them the masters of the many +thousand members were chosen. This guild was highly respected, even the +taricheutes, who were entrusted with the actual work of embalming, could +venture to mix with the other citizens, although in Thebes itself people +always avoided them with a certain horror; only the paraschites, whose +duty it was to open the body, bore the whole curse of uncleanness. +Certainly the place where these people fulfilled their office was dismal +enough. + +The stone chamber in which the bodies were opened, and the halls in +which they were prepared with salt, had adjoining them a variety of +laboratories and depositaries for drugs and preparations of every +description. + +In a court-yard, protected from the rays of the sun only by an awning, +was a large walled bason, containing a solution of natron, in which +the bodies were salted, and they were then dried in a stone vault, +artificially supplied with hot air. + +The little wooden houses of the weavers, as well as the work-shops +of the case-joiners and decorators, stood in numbers round the +pattern-room; but the farthest off, and much the largest of the +buildings of the establishment, was a very long low structure, solidly +built of stone and well roofed in, where the prepared bodies were +enveloped in their cerements, tricked out in amulets, and made ready for +their journey to the next world. What took place in this building--into +which the laity were admitted, but never for more than a few +minutes--was to the last degree mysterious, for here the gods themselves +appeared to be engaged with the mortal bodies. + +Out of the windows which opened on the street, recitations, hymns, and +lamentations sounded night and day. The priests who fulfilled their +office here wore masks like the divinities of the under-world. Many were +the representatives of Anubis, with the jackal-head, assisted by boys +with masks of the so-called child-Horus. At the head of each mummy stood +or squatted a wailing-woman with the emblems of Nephthys, and one at its +feet with those of Isis. + +Every separate limb of the deceased was dedicated to a particular +divinity by the aid of holy oils, charms, and sentences; a specially +prepared cloth was wrapped round each muscle, every drug and every +bandage owed its origin to some divinity, and the confusion of sounds, +of disguised figures, and of various perfumes, had a stupefying effect +on those who visited this chamber. It need not be said that the whole +embalming establishment and its neighborhood was enveloped in a cloud +of powerful resinous fumes, of sweet attar, of lasting musk, and pungent +spices. + +When the wind blew from the west it was wafted across the Nile to +Thebes, and this was regarded as an evil omen, for from the south-west +comes the wind that enfeebles the energy of men--the fatal simoon. + +In the court of the pattern-house stood several groups of citizens +from Thebes, gathered round different individuals, to whom they were +expressing their sympathy. A new-comer, the superintendent of the +victims of the temple of Anion, who seemed to be known to many and was +greeted with respect, announced, even before he went to condole with +Rui’s widow, in a tone full of horror at what had happened, that an +omen, significant of the greatest misfortune, had occurred in Thebes, in +a spot no less sacred than the very temple of Anion himself. + +Many inquisitive listeners stood round him while he related that the +Regent Ani, in his joy at the victory of his troops in Ethiopia, had +distributed wine with a lavish hand to the garrison of Thebes, and also +to the watchmen of the temple of Anion, and that, while the people were +carousing, wolves + + [Wolves have now disappeared from Egypt; they were sacred animals, + and were worshipped and buried at Lykopolis, the present Siut, where + mummies of wolves have been found. Herodotus says that if a wolf + was found dead he was buried, and Aelian states that the herb + Lykoktonon, which was poisonous to wolves, might on no account be + brought into the city, where they were held sacred. The wolf + numbered among the sacral animals is the canis lupaster, which + exists in Egypt at the present day. Besides this species there are + three varieties of wild dogs, the jackal, fox, and fenek, canis + cerda.] + +had broken into the stable of the sacred rams. Some were killed, but the +noblest ram, which Rameses himself had sent as a gift from Mendes when +he set out for the war--the magnificent beast which Amon had chosen as +the tenement of his spirit, was found, torn in pieces, by the soldiers, +who immediately terrified the whole city with the news. At the same hour +news had come from Memphis that the sacred bull Apis was dead. + +All the people who had collected round the priest, broke out into a +far-sounding cry of woe, in which he himself and Rui’s widow vehemently +joined. + +The buyers and functionaries rushed out of the pattern-room, and from +the mummy-house the taricheutes, paraschites and assistants; the +weavers left their looms, and all, as soon as they had learned what had +happened, took part in the lamentations, howling and wailing, tearing +their hair and covering their faces with dust. + +The noise was loud and distracting, and when its violence diminished, +and the work-people went back to their business, the east wind brought +the echo of the cries of the dwellers in the Necropolis, perhaps too, +those of the citizens of Thebes itself. + +“Bad news,” said the inspector of the victims, “cannot fail to reach +us soon from the king and the army; he will regret the death of the ram +which we called by his name more than that of Apis. It is a bad--a very +bad omen.” + +“My lost husband Rui, who rests in Osiris, foresaw it all,” said the +widow. “If only I dared to speak I could tell a good deal that many +might find unpleasant.” + +The inspector of sacrifices smiled, for he knew that the late superior +of the temple of Hatasu had been an adherent of the old royal family, +and he replied: + +“The Sun of Rameses may be for a time covered with clouds, but neither +those who fear it nor those who desire it will live to see its setting.” + +The priest coldly saluted the lady, and went into the house of a weaver +in which he had business, and the widow got into her litter which was +waiting at the gate. + +The old paraschites Pinem had joined with his fellows in the lamentation +for the sacred beasts, and was now sitting on the hard pavement of the +dissecting room to eat his morsel of food--for it was noon. + +The stone room in which he was eating his meal was badly lighted; the +daylight came through a small opening in the roof, over which the sun +stood perpendicularly, and a shaft of bright rays, in which danced the +whirling motes, shot down through the twilight on to the stone pavement. +Mummy-cases leaned against all the walls, and on smooth polished slabs +lay bodies covered with coarse cloths. A rat scudded now and then +across the floor, and from the wide cracks between the stones sluggish +scorpions crawled out. + +The old paraschites was long since blunted to the horror which pervaded +this locality. He had spread a coarse napkin, and carefully laid on it +the provisions which his wife had put into his satchel; first half a +cake of bread, then a little salt, and finally a radish. + +But the bag was not yet empty. + +He put his hand in and found a piece of meat wrapped up in two +cabbage-leaves. Old Hekt had brought a leg of a gazelle from Thebes +for Uarda, and he now saw that the women had put a piece of it into his +little sack for his refreshment. He looked at the gift with emotion, but +he did not venture to touch it, for he felt as if in doing so he should +be robbing the sick girl. While eating the bread and the radish he +contemplated the piece of meat as if it were some costly jewel, and when +a fly dared to settle on it he drove it off indignantly. + +At last he tasted the meat, and thought of many former noon-day meals, +and how he had often found a flower in the satchel, that Uarda had +placed there to please him, with the bread. His kind old eyes filled +with tears, and his whole heart swelled with gratitude and love. He +looked up, and his glance fell on the table, and he asked himself how he +would have felt if instead of the old priest, robbed of his heart, the +sunshine of his old age, his granddaughter, were lying there motionless. +A cold shiver ran over him, and he felt that his own heart would not +have been too great a price to pay for her recovery. And yet! In the +course of his long life he had experienced so much suffering and wrong, +that he could not imagine any hope of a better lot in the other world. +Then he drew out the bond Nebsecht had given him, held it up with both +hands, as if to show it to the Immortals, and particularly to the judges +in the hall of truth and judgment, that they might not reckon with him +for the crime he had committed--not for himself but for another--and +that they might not refuse to justify Rui, whom he had robbed of his +heart. + +While he thus lifted his soul in devotion, matters were getting warm +outside the dissecting room. He thought he heard his name spoken, and +scarcely had he raised his head to listen when a taricheut came in and +desired him to follow him. + +In front of the rooms, filled with resinous odors and incense, in which +the actual process of embalming was carried on, a number of taricheutes +were standing and looking at an object in an alabaster bowl. The knees +of the old man knocked together as he recognized the heart of the beast +which he had substituted for that of the Prophet. + +The chief of the taricheutes asked him whether he had opened the body of +the dead priest. + +Pinem stammered out “Yes.” Whether this was his heart? The old man +nodded affirmatively. + +The taricheutes looked at each other, whispered together; then one of +them went away, and returned soon with the inspector of victims from the +temple of Anion, whom he had found in the house of the weaver, and the +chief of the kolchytes. + +“Show me the heart,” said the superintendent of the sacrifices as he +approached the vase. “I can decide in the dark if you have seen rightly. +I examine a hundred animals every day. Give it here!--By all the Gods of +Heaven and Hell that is the heart of a ram!” + +“It was found in the breast of Rui,” said one of the taricheutes +decisively. “It was opened yesterday in the presence of us all by this +old paraschites.” + +“It is extraordinary,” said the priest of Anion. “And incredible. But +perhaps an exchange was effected.--Did you slaughter any victims here +yesterday or--?” + +“We are purifying ourselves,” the chief of the kolchytes interrupted, +“for the great festival of the valley, and for ten days no beast can +have been killed here for food; besides, the stables and slaughterhouses +are a long way from this, on the other side of the linen-factories.” + +“It is strange!” replied the priest. “Preserve this heart carefully, +kolchytes: or, better still, let it be enclosed in a case. We will take +it over to the chief prophet of Anion. It would seem that some miracle +has happened.” + +“The heart belongs to the Necropolis,” answered the chief kolchytes, +“and it would therefore be more fitting if we took it to the chief +priest of the temple of Seti, Ameni.” + +“You command here!” said the other. “Let us go.” In a few minutes +the priest of Anion and the chief of the kolchytes were being carried +towards the valley in their litters. A taricheut followed them, who sat +on a seat between two asses, and carefully carried a casket of ivory, in +which reposed the ram’s heart. + +The old paraschites watched the priests disappear behind the tamarisk +bushes. He longed to run after them, and tell them everything. + +His conscience quaked with self reproach, and if his sluggish +intelligence did not enable him to take in at a glance all the results +that his deed might entail, he still could guess that he had sown a +seed whence deceit of every kind must grow. He felt as if he had fallen +altogether into sin and falsehood, and that the goddess of truth, whom +he had all his life honestly served, had reproachfully turned her back +on him. After what had happened never could he hope to be pronounced a +“truth-speaker” by the judges of the dead. Lost, thrown away, was the +aim and end of a long life, rich in self-denial and prayer! His soul +shed tears of blood, a wild sighing sounded in his ears, which saddened +his spirit, and when he went back to his work again, and wanted to +remove the soles of the feet + + [One of the mummies of Prague which were dissected by Czermak, had + the soles of the feet removed and laid on the breast. We learn from + Chapter 125 of the Book of the Dead that this was done that the + sacred floor of the hall of judgment might not be defiled when the + dead were summoned before Osiris.] + +from a body, his hand trembled so that he could not hold the knife. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +The news of the end of the sacred ram of Anion, and of the death of the +bull Apis of Memphis, had reached the House of Seti, and was received +there with loud lamentation, in which all its inhabitants joined, from +the chief haruspex down to the smallest boy in the school-courts. + +The superior of the institution, Ameni, had been for three days in +Thebes, and was expected to return to-day. His arrival was looked for +with anxiety and excitement by many. The chief of the haruspices was +eager for it that he might hand over the imprisoned scholars to condign +punishment, and complain to him of Pentaur and Bent-Anat; the initiated +knew that important transactions must have been concluded on the farther +side of the Nile; and the rebellious disciples knew that now stern +justice would be dealt to them. + +The insurrectionary troop were locked into an open court upon bread and +water, and as the usual room of detention of the establishment was too +small for them all, for two nights they had had to sleep in a loft on +thin straw mats. The young spirits were excited to the highest pitch, +but each expressed his feelings in quite a different manner. + +Bent-Anat’s brother, Rameses’ son, Rameri, had experienced the same +treatment as his fellows, whom yesterday he had led into every sort of +mischief, with even more audacity than usual, but to-day he hung his +head. + +In a corner of the court sat Anana, Pentaur’s favorite scholar, hiding +his face in his hands which rested on his knees. Rameri went up to him, +touched his shoulders and said: + +“We have played the game, and now must bear the consequences for good +and for evil. Are you not ashamed of yourself, old boy? Your eyes are +wet, and the drops here on your hands have not fallen from the clouds. +You who are seventeen, and in a few months will be a scribe and a grown +man!” + +Anana looked at the prince, dried his eyes quickly; and said: + +“I was the ring-leader. Ameni will turn me out of the place, and I must +return disgraced to my poor mother, who has no one in the world but me.” + +“Poor fellow!” said Rameri kindly. “It was striking at random! If only +our attempt had done Pentaur any good!” + +“We have done him harm, on the contrary,” said Anana vehemently, +“and have behaved like fools!” Rameri nodded in full assent, looked +thoughtful for a moment, and then said: + +“Do you know, Anana, that you were not the ringleader? The trick was +planned in this crazy brain; I take the whole blame on my own shoulders. +I am the son of Rameses, and Ameni will be less hard on me than on you.” + +“He will examine us all,” replied Anana, “and I will be punished sooner +than tell a lie.” + +Rameri colored. + +“Have you ever known my tongue sin against the lovely daughter of Ra?” + he exclaimed. “But look here! did I stir up Antef, Hapi, Sent and all +the others or no? Who but I advised you to find out Pentaur? Did I +threaten to beg my father to take me from the school of Seti or not? I +was the instigator of the mischief, I pulled the wires, and if we are +questioned let me speak first. Not one of you is to mention Anana’s +name; do you hear? not one of you, and if they flog us or deprive us of +our food we all stick to this, that I was guilty of all the mischief.” + +“You are a brave fellow!” said the son of the chief priest of Anion, +shaking his right hand, while Anana held his left. + +The prince freed himself laughing from their grasp. + +“Now the old man may come home,” he exclaimed, “we are ready for him. +But all the same I will ask my father to send me to Chennu, as sure as +my name is Rameri, if they do not recall Pentaur.” + +“He treated us like school-boys!” said the eldest of the young +malefactors. + +“And with reason,” replied Rameri, “I respect him all the more for it. +You all think I am a careless dog--but I have my own ideas, and I will +speak the words of wisdom.” + +With these words he looked round on his companions with comical gravity, +and continued--imitating Ameni’s manner: + +“Great men are distinguished from little men by this--they scorn and +contemn all which flatters their vanity, or seems to them for the moment +desirable, or even useful, if it is not compatible with the laws which +they recognize, or conducive to some great end which they have set +before them; even though that end may not be reached till after their +death. + +“I have learned this, partly from my father, but partly I have thought +it out for myself; and now I ask you, could Pentaur as ‘a great man’ +have dealt with us better?” + +“You have put into words exactly what I myself have thought ever since +yesterday,” cried Anana. “We have behaved like babies, and instead of +carrying our point we have brought ourselves and Pentaur into disgrace.” + +The rattle of an approaching chariot was now audible, and Rameri +exclaimed, interrupting Anana, “It is he. Courage, boys! I am the guilty +one. He will not dare to have me thrashed--but he will stab me with +looks!” + +Ameni descended quickly from his chariot. The gate-keeper informed him +that the chief of the kolchytes, and the inspector of victims from the +temple of Anion, desired to speak with him. + +“They must wait,” said the Prophet shortly. “Show them meanwhile into +the garden pavilion. Where is the chief haruspex?” + +He had hardly spoken when the vigorous old man for whom he was enquiring +hurried to meet him, to make him acquainted with all that had occurred +in his absence. But the high-priest had already heard in Thebes all that +his colleague was anxious to tell him. + +When Ameni was absent from the House of Seti, he caused accurate +information to be brought to him every morning of what had taken place +there. + +Now when the old man began his story he interrupted him. + +“I know everything,” he said. “The disciples cling to Pentaur, and have +committed a folly for his sake, and you met the princess Bent-Anat with +him in the temple of Hatasu, to which he had admitted a woman of low +rank before she had been purified. These are grave matters, and must be +seriously considered, but not to-day. Make yourself easy; Pentaur will +not escape punishment; but for to-day we must recall him to this temple, +for we have need of him to-morrow for the solemnity of the feast of the +valley. No one shall meet him as an enemy till he is condemned; I desire +this of you, and charge you to repeat it to the others.” + +The haruspex endeavored to represent to his superior what a scandal +would arise from this untimely clemency; but Ameni did not allow him to +talk, he demanded his ring back, called a young priest, delivered the +precious signet into his charge, and desired him to get into his chariot +that was waiting at the door, and carry to Pentaur the command, in his +name, to return to the temple of Seti. + +The haruspex submitted, though deeply vexed, and asked whether the +guilty boys were also to go unpunished. + +“No more than Pentaur,” answered Ameni. “But can you call this +school-boy’s trick guilt? Leave the children to their fun, and their +imprudence. The educator is the destroyer, if he always and only keeps +his eyes open, and cannot close them at the right moment. Before +life demands of us the exercise of serious duties we have a mighty +over-abundance of vigor at our disposal; the child exhausts it in play, +and the boy in building wonder-castles with the hammer and chisel of +his fancy, in inventing follies. You shake your head, Septah! but I tell +you, the audacious tricks of the boy are the fore-runners of the deeds +of the man. I shall let one only of the boys suffer for what is past, +and I should let him even go unpunished if I had not other pressing +reasons for keeping him away from our festival.” + +The haruspex did not contradict his chief; for he knew that when Ameni’s +eyes flashed so suddenly, and his demeanor, usually so measured, was as +restless as at present, something serious was brewing. + +The high-priest understood what was passing in Septah’s mind. + +“You do not understand me now,” said he. “But this evening, at the +meeting of the initiated, you shall know all. Great events are stirring. +The brethren in the temple of Anion, on the other shore, have fallen off +from what must always be the Holiest to us white-robed priests, and will +stand in our way when the time for action is arrived. At the feast of +the valley we shall stand in competition with the brethren from Thebes. +All Thebes will be present at the solemn service, and it must be proved +which knows how to serve the Divinity most worthily, they or we. We must +avail ourselves of all our resources, and Pentaur we certainly cannot do +without. He must fill the function of Cherheb + + [Cherheb was the title of the speaker or reciter at a festival. We + cannot agree with those who confuse this personage with the chief of + the Kolchytes.] + +for to-morrow only; the day after he must be brought to judgment. Among +the rebellious boys are our best singers, and particularly young Anana, +who leads the voices of the choir-boys. + +“I will examine the silly fellows at once. Rameri--Rameses’ son--was +among the young miscreants?” + +“He seems to have been the ring-leader,” answered Septah. + +Ameni looked at the old man with a significant smile, and said: + +“The royal family are covering themselves with honor! His eldest +daughter must be kept far from the temple and the gathering of the +pious, as being unclean and refractory, and we shall be obliged to expel +his son too from our college. You look horrified, but I say to you +that the time for action is come. More of this, this evening. Now, one +question: Has the news of the death of the ram of Anion reached you? +Yes? Rameses himself presented him to the God, and they gave it his +name. A bad omen.” + +“And Apis too is dead!” The haruspex threw up his arms in lamentation. + +“His Divine spirit has returned to God,” replied Ameni. “Now we have +much to do. Before all things we must prove ourselves equal to those in +Thebes over there, and win the people over to our side. The panegyric +prepared by us for to-morrow must offer some great novelty. The Regent +Ani grants us a rich contribution, and--” + +“And,” interrupted Septah, “our thaumaturgists understand things +very differently from those of the house of Anion, who feast while we +practise.” + +Ameni nodded assent, and said with a smile: “Also we are more +indispensable than they to the people. They show them the path of life, +but we smooth the way of death. It is easier to find the way without a +guide in the day-light than in the dark. We are more than a match for +the priests of Anion.” + +“So long as you are our leader, certainly,” cried the haruspex. + +“And so long as the temple has no lack of men of your temper!” added +Ameni, half to Septah, and half to the second prophet of the temple, +sturdy old Gagabu, who had come into the room. + +Both accompanied him into the garden, where the two priests were +awaiting him with the miraculous heart. + +Ameni greeted the priest from the temple of Anion with dignified +friendliness, the head kolchytes with distant reserve, listened to their +story, looked at the heart which lay in the box, with Septah and Gagabu, +touched it delicately with the tips of his fingers, carefully examining +the object, which diffused a strong perfume of spices; then he said +earnestly: + +“If this, in your opinion, kolchytes, is not a human heart, and if in +yours, my brother of the temple of Anion, it is a ram’s heart, and if +it was found in the body of Rui, who is gone to Osiris, we here have a +mystery which only the Gods can solve. Follow me into the great court. +Let the gong be sounded, Gagabu, four times, for I wish to call all the +brethren together.” + +The gong rang in loud waves of sound to the farthest limits of the group +of buildings. The initiated, the fathers, the temple-servants, and the +scholars streamed in, and in a few minutes were all collected. Not a man +was wanting, for at the four strokes of the rarely-sounded alarum every +dweller in the House of Seti was expected to appear in the court of the +temple. Even the leech Nebsecht came; for he feared that the unusual +summons announced the outbreak of a fire. + +Ameni ordered the assembly to arrange itself in a procession, informed +his astonished hearers that in the breast of the deceased prophet Rui, a +ram’s heart, instead of a man’s, had been found, and desired them all to +follow his instructions. Each one, he said, was to fall on his knees +and pray, while he would carry the heart into the holiest of holies, and +enquire of the Gods what this wonder might portend to the faithful. + +Ameni, with the heart in his hand, placed himself at the head of the +procession, and disappeared behind the veil of the sanctuary, the +initiated prayed in the vestibule, in front of it; the priests and +scholars in the vast court, which was closed on the west by the stately +colonnade and the main gateway to the temple. + +For fully an hour Ameni remained in the silent holy of holies, from +which thick clouds of incense rolled out, and then he reappeared with +a golden vase set with precious stones. His tall figure was now +resplendent with rich ornaments, and a priest, who walked before him, +held the vessel high above his head. + +Ameni’s eyes seemed spell-bound to the vase, and he followed it, +supporting himself by his crozier, with humble inflections. + +The initiated bowed their heads till they touched the pavement, and +the priests and scholars bent their faces down to the earth, when they +beheld their haughty master so filled with humility and devotion. The +worshippers did not raise themselves till Ameni had reached the middle +of the court and ascended the steps of the altar, on which the vase +with the heart was now placed, and they listened to the slow and solemn +accents of the high-priest which sounded clearly through the whole +court. + +“Fall down again and worship! wonder, pray, and adore! The noble +inspector of sacrifices of the temple of Anion has not been deceived +in his judgment; a ram’s heart was in fact found in the pious breast of +Rui. I heard distinctly the voice of the Divinity in the sanctuary, and +strange indeed was the speech that met my ear. Wolves tore the sacred +ram of Anion in his sanctuary on the other bank of the river, but the +heart of the divine beast found its way into the bosom of the saintly +Rui. A great miracle has been worked, and the Gods have shown a +wonderful sign. The spirit of the Highest liked not to dwell in the body +of this not perfectly holy ram, and seeking a purer abiding-place found +it in the breast of our Rui; and now in this consecrated vase. In this +the heart shall be preserved till a new ram offered by a worthy hand +enters the herd of Anion. This heart shall be preserved with the most +sacred relics, it has the property of healing many diseases, and the +significant words seem favorable which stood written in the midst of the +vapor of incense, and which I will repeat to you word for word, ‘That +which is high shall rise higher, and that which exalts itself, shall +soon fall down.’ Rise, pastophori! hasten to fetch the holy images, +bring them out, place the sacred heart at the head of the procession, +and let us march round the walls of the temple with hymns of praise. Ye +temple-servants, seize your staves, and spread in every part of the city +the news of the miracle which the Divinity has vouchsafed to us.” + +After the procession had marched round the temple and dispersed, the +priest of Anion took leave of Ameni; he bowed deeply and formally before +him, and with a coolness that was almost malicious said: + +“We, in the temple of Anion, shall know how to appreciate what you heard +in the holy of holies. The miracle has occurred, and the king shall +learn how it came to pass, and in what words it was announced.” + +“In the words of the Most High,” said the high priest with dignity; +he bowed to the other, and turned to a group of priests, who were +discussing the great event of the day. + +Ameni enquired of them as to the preparations for the festival of the +morrow, and then desired the chief haruspex to call the refractory +pupils together in the school-court. The old man informed him that +Pentaur had returned, and he followed his superior to the released +prisoners, who, prepared for the worst, and expecting severe punishment, +nevertheless shook with laughter when Rameri suggested that, if by +chance they were condemned to kneel upon peas, they should get them +cooked first. + +“It will be long asparagus + + [Asparagus was known to the Egyptians. Pliny says they held in + their mouths, as a remedy for toothache, wine in which asparagus had + been cooked.] +--not peas,” said another looking over his shoulder, and pretending to +be flogging. They all shouted again with laughter, but it was hushed as +soon as they heard Ameni’s well-known footstep. + +Each feared the worst, and when the high-priest stood before them even +Rameri’s mirth was quite quelled, for though Ameni looked neither +angry nor threatening, his appearance commanded respect, and each one +recognized in him a judge against whose verdict no remonstrance was to +be thought of. + +To their infinite astonishment Ameni spoke kindly to the thoughtless +boys, praised the motive of their action--their attachment to a +highly-endowed teacher--but then clearly and deliberately laid before +them the folly of the means they had employed to attain their end, and +at what a cost. “Only think,” he continued, turning to the prince, +“if your father sent a general, who he thought would be better in a +different place, from Syria to Kusch, and his troops therefore all went +over to the enemy! How would you like that?” + +So for some minutes he continued to blame and warn them, and he ended +his speech by promising, in consideration of the great miracle that gave +that day a special sanctity, to exercise unwonted clemency. For the sake +of example, he said, he could not let them pass altogether unpunished, +and he now asked them which of them had been the instigator of the deed; +he and he only should suffer punishment. + +He had hardly clone speaking, when prince Rameri stepped forward, and +said modestly: + +“We acknowledge, holy father, that we have played a foolish trick; and I +lament it doubly because I devised it, and made the others follow me. +I love Pentaur, and next to thee there is no one like him in the +sanctuary.” + +Ameni’s countenance grew dark, and he answered with displeasure: + +“No judgment is allowed to pupils as to their teachers--nor to you. If +you were not the son of the king, who rules Egypt as Ra, I would punish +your temerity with stripes. My hands are tied with regard to you, and +yet they must be everywhere and always at work if the hundreds committed +to my care are to be kept from harm.” + +“Nay, punish me!” cried Rameri. “If I commit a folly I am ready to bear +the consequences.” + +Ameni looked pleased at the vehement boy, and would willingly have +shaken him by the hand and stroked his curly head, but the penance he +proposed for Rameri was to serve a great end, and Ameni would not +allow any overflow of emotion to hinder him in the execution of a well +considered design. So he answered the prince with grave determination: + +“I must and will punish you--and I do so by requesting you to leave the +House of Seti this very day.” + +The prince turned pale. But Ameni went on more kindly: + +“I do not expel you with ignominy from among us--I only bid you a +friendly farewell. In a few weeks you would in any case have left the +college, and by the king’s command have transferred your blooming life, +health, and strength to the exercising ground of the chariot-brigade. No +punishment for you but this lies in my power. Now give me your hand; you +will make a fine man, and perhaps a great warrior.” + +The prince stood in astonishment before Ameni, and did not take his +offered hand. Then the priest went up to him, and said: + +“You said you were ready to take the consequences of your folly, and +a prince’s word must be kept. Before sunset we will conduct you to the +gate of the temple.” + +Ameni turned his back on the boys, and left the school-court. + +Rameri looked after him. Utter whiteness had overspread his blooming +face, and the blood had left even his lips. None of his companions +approached him, for each felt that what was passing in his soul at this +moment would brook no careless intrusion. No one spoke a word; they all +looked at him. + +He soon observed this, and tried to collect himself, and then he said in +a low tone while he held out his hands to Anana and another friend: + +“Am I then so bad that I must be driven out from among you all like +this--that such a blow must be inflicted on my father?” + +“You refused Ameni your hand!” answered Anana. “Go to him, offer him +your hand, beg him to be less severe, and perhaps he will let you +remain.” + +Rameri answered only “No.” But that “No” was so decided that all who +knew him understood that it was final. + +Before the sun set he had left the school. Ameni gave him his blessing; +he told him that if he himself ever had to command he would understand +his severity, and allowed the other scholars to accompany him as far as +the Nile. Pentaur parted from him tenderly at the gate. + +When Rameri was alone in the cabin of his gilt bark with his tutor, he +felt his eyes swimming in tears. + +“Your highness is surely not weeping?” asked the official. + +“Why?” asked the prince sharply. + +“I thought I saw tears on your highness’ cheeks.” + +“Tears of joy that I am out of the trap,” cried Rameri; he sprang on +shore, and in a few minutes he was with his sister in the palace. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +This eventful day had brought much that was unexpected to our friends in +Thebes, as well as to those who lived in the Necropolis. + +The Lady Katuti had risen early after a sleepless night. Nefert had come +in late, had excused her delay by shortly explaining to her mother that +she had been detained by Bent-Anat, and had then affectionately offered +her brow for a kiss of “good-night.” + +When the widow was about to withdraw to her sleeping-room, and Nemu had +lighted her lamp, she remembered the secret which was to deliver Paaker +into Ani’s hands. She ordered the dwarf to impart to her what he +knew, and the little man told her at last, after sincere efforts at +resistance--for he feared for his mother’s safety--that Paaker had +administered half of a love-philter to Nefert, and that the remainder +was still in his hands. + +A few hours since this information would have filled Katuti with +indignation and disgust; now, though she blamed the Mohar, she asked +eagerly whether such a drink could be proved to have any actual effect. + +“Not a doubt of it,” said the dwarf, “if the whole were taken, but +Nefert only had half of it.” + +At a late hour Katuti was still pacing her bedroom, thinking of Paaker’s +insane devotion, of Mena’s faithlessness, and of Nefert’s altered +demeanor; and when she went to bed, a thousand conjectures, fears, and +anxieties tormented her, while she was distressed at the change which +had come over Nefert’s love to her mother, a sentiment which of all +others should be the most sacred, and the most secure against all shock. + +Soon after sunrise she went into the little temple attached to the +house, and made an offering to the statue, which, under the form of +Osiris, represented her lost husband; then she went to the temple of +Anion, where she also prayed a while, and nevertheless, on her return +home, found that her daughter had not yet made her appearance in the +hall where they usually breakfasted together. + +Katuti preferred to be undisturbed during the early morning hours, and +therefore did not interfere with her daughter’s disposition to sleep far +into the day in her carefully-darkened room. + +When the widow went to the temple Nefert was accustomed to take a cup of +milk in bed, then she would let herself be dressed, and when her mother +returned, she would find her in the veranda or hall, which is so well +known to the reader. + +To-day however Katuti had to breakfast alone; but when she had eaten a +few mouthfuls she prepared Nefert’s breakfast--a white cake and a little +wine in a small silver beaker, carefully guarded from dust and insects +by a napkin thrown over it--and went into her daughter’s room. + +She was startled at finding it empty, but she was informed that Nefert +had gone earlier than was her wont to the temple, in her litter. + +With a heavy sigh she returned to the veranda, and there received +her nephew Paaker, who had come to enquire after the health of his +relatives, followed by a slave, who carried two magnificent bunches of +flowers, and by the great dog which had formerly belonged to his father. +One bouquet he said had been cut for Nefert, and the other for her +mother. + + [Pictures on the monuments show that in ancient Egypt, as at the + present time, bouquets of flowers were bestowed as tokens of + friendly feeling.] + +Katuti had taken quite a new interest in Paaker since she had heard of +his procuring the philter. + +No other young man of the rank to which they belonged, would have +allowed himself to be so mastered by his passion for a woman as this +Paaker was, who went straight to his aim with stubborn determination, +and shunned no means that might lead to it. The pioneer, who had +grown up under her eyes, whose weaknesses she knew, and whom she was +accustomed to look down upon, suddenly appeared to her as a different +man--almost a stranger--as the deliverer of his friends, and the +merciless antagonist of his enemies. + +These reflections had passed rapidly through her mind. Now her eyes +rested on the sturdy, strongly-knit figure of her nephew, and it struck +her that he bore no resemblance to his tall, handsome father. Often had +she admired her brother-in-law’s slender hand, that nevertheless could +so effectually wield a sword, but that of his son was broad and ignoble +in form. + +While Paaker was telling her that he must shortly leave for Syria, +she involuntarily observed the action of this hand, which often went +cautiously to his girdle as if he had something concealed there; this +was the oval phial with the rest of the philter. Katuti observed it, and +her cheeks flushed when it occurred to her to guess what he had there. + +The pioneer could not but observe Katuti’s agitation, and he said in a +tone of sympathy: + +“I perceive that you are in pain, or in trouble. The master of Mena’s +stud at Hermonthis has no doubt been with you--No? He came to me +yesterday, and asked me to allow him to join my troops. He is very angry +with you, because he has been obliged to sell some of Mena’s gold-bays. +I have bought the finest of them. They are splendid creatures! Now he +wants to go to his master ‘to open his eyes,’ as he says. Lie down a +little while, aunt, you are very pale.” + +Katuti did not follow this prescription; on the contrary she smiled, and +said in a voice half of anger and half of pity: + +“The old fool firmly believes that the weal or woe of the family depends +on the gold-bays. He would like to go with you? To open Mena’s eyes? No +one has yet tried to bind them!” + +Katuti spoke the last words in a low tone, and her glance fell. Paaker +also looked down, and was silent; but he soon recovered his presence of +mind, and said: + +“If Nefert is to be long absent, I will go.” + +“No--no, stay,” cried the widow. “She wished to see you, and must soon +come in. There are her cake and her wine waiting for her.” + +With these words she took the napkin off the breakfast-table, held up +the beaker in her hand, and then said, with the cloth still in her hand: + +“I will leave you a moment, and see if Nefert is not yet come home.” + +Hardly had she left the veranda when Paaker, having convinced himself +that no one could see him, snatched the flask from his girdle, and, with +a short invocation to his father in Osiris, poured its whole contents +into the beaker, which thus was filled to the very brim. A few minutes +later Nefert and her mother entered the hall. + +Paaker took up the nosegay, which his slave had laid down on a seat, and +timidly approached the young woman, who walked in with such an aspect +of decision and self-confidence, that her mother looked at her in +astonishment, while Paaker felt as if she had never before appeared +so beautiful and brilliant. Was it possible that she should love her +husband, when his breach of faith troubled her so little? Did her heart +still belong to another? Or had the love-philter set him in the place of +Mena? Yes! yes! for how warmly she greeted him. She put out her hand to +him while he was still quite far off, let it rest in his, thanked him +with feeling, and praised his fidelity and generosity. + +Then she went up to the table, begged Paaker to sit down with her, broke +her cake, and enquired for her aunt Setchern, Paaker’s mother. + +Katuti and Paaker watched all her movements with beating hearts. + +Now she took up the beaker, and lifted it to her lips, but set it down +again to answer Paaker’s remark that she was breakfasting late. + +“I have hitherto been a real lazy-bones,” she said with a blush. “But +this morning I got up early, to go and pray in the temple in the fresh +dawn. You know what has happened to the sacred ram of Amion. It is a +frightful occurrence. The priests were all in the greatest agitation, +but the venerable Bek el Chunsu received me himself, and interpreted my +dream, and now my spirit is light and contented.” + +“And you did all this without me?” said Katuti in gentle reproof. + +“I would not disturb you,” replied Nefert. “Besides,” she added +coloring, “you never take me to the city and the temple in the morning.” + +Again she took up the wine-cup and looked into it, but without drinking +any, went on: + +“Would you like to hear what I dreamed, Paaker? It was a strange +vision.” + +The pioneer could hardly breathe for expectation, still he begged her to +tell her dream. + +“Only think,” said Nefert, pushing the beaker on the smooth table, +which was wet with a few drops which she had spilt, “I dreamed of the +Neha-tree, down there in the great tub, which your father brought me +from Punt, when I was a little child, and which since then has grown +quite a tall tree. There is no tree in the garden I love so much, for it +always reminds me of your father, who was so kind to me, and whom I can +never forget!” + +Paaker bowed assent. + +Nefert looked at him, and interrupted her story when she observed his +crimson cheeks. + +“It is very hot! Would you like some wine to drink---or some water?” + +With these words she raised the wine-cup, and drank about half of the +contents; then she shuddered, and while her pretty face took a comical +expression, she turned to her mother, who was seated behind her and held +the beaker towards her. + +“The wine is quite sour to-day!” she said. “Taste it, mother.” + +Katuti took the little silver-cup in her hand, and gravely put it to her +lips, but without wetting them. A smile passed over her face, and her +eyes met those of the pioneer, who stared at her in horror. The picture +flashed before her mind of herself languishing for the pioneer, and of +his terror at her affection for him! Her selfish and intriguing spirit +was free from coarseness, and yet she could have laughed with all her +heart even while engaged in the most shameful deed of her whole life. +She gave the wine back to her daughter, saying good-humoredly: + +“I have tasted sweeter, but acid is refreshing in this heat.” + +“That is true,” said the wife of Mena; she emptied the cup to the +bottom, and then went on, as if refreshed, “But I will tell you the +rest of my dream. I saw the Neha-tree, which your father gave me, quite +plainly; nay I could have declared that I smelt its perfume, but the +interpreter assured me that we never smell in our dreams. I went up to +the beautiful tree in admiration. Then suddenly a hundred axes appeared +in the air, wielded by unseen hands, and struck the poor tree with such +violence that the branches one by one fell to the ground, and at +last the trunk itself was felled. If you think it grieved me you are +mistaken. On the contrary, I was delighted with the flashing hatchets +and the flying splinters. When at last nothing was left but the roots +in the tub of earth, I perceived that the tree was rising to new life. +Suddenly my arms became strong, my feet active, and I fetched quantities +of water from the tank, poured it over the roots, and when, at last, I +could exert myself no longer, a tender green shoot showed itself on the +wounded root, a bud appeared, a green leaf unfolded itself, a juicy stem +sprouted quickly, it became a firm trunk, sent out branches and twigs, +and these became covered with leaves and flowers, white, red and blue; +then various birds came and settled on the top of the tree, and sang. +Ah! my heart sang louder than the birds at that moment, and I said to +myself that without me the tree would have been dead, and that it owed +its life to me.” + +“A beautiful dream,” said Katuti; “that reminds me of your girlhood, +when you would be awake half the night inventing all sorts of tales. +What interpretation did the priest give you?” + +“He promised me many things,” said Nefert, “and he gave me the assurance +that the happiness to which I am predestined shall revive in fresh +beauty after many interruptions.” + +“And Paaker’s father gave you the Neha-tree?” asked Katuti, leaving the +veranda as she spoke and walking out into the garden. + +“My father brought it to Thebes from the far cast,” said Paaker, in +confirmation of the widow’s parting words. + +“And that is exactly what makes me so happy,” said Nefert. “For your +father was as kind, and as dear to me as if he had been my own. Do you +remember when we were sailing round the pond, and the boat upset, and +you pulled me senseless out of the water? Never shall I forget the +expression with which the great man looked at me when I woke up in its +arms; such wise true eyes no one ever had but he.” + +“He was good, and he loved you very much,” said Paaker, recalling, for +his part, the moment when he had dared to press a kiss on the lips of +the sweet unconscious child. + +“And I am so glad,” Nefert went on, “that the day has come at last when +we can talk of him together again, and when the old grudge that lay +so heavy in my heart is all forgotten. How good you are to us, I have +already learned; my heart overflows with gratitude to you, when I +remember my childhood, and I can never forget that I was indebted to you +for all that was bright and happy in it. Only look at the big dog--poor +Descher!--how he rubs against me, and shows that he has not forgotten +me! Whatever comes from your house fills my mind with pleasant +memories.” + +“We all love you dearly,” said Paaker looking at her tenderly. + +“And how sweet it was in your garden!” cried Nefert. “The nosegay here +that you have brought me shall be placed in water, and preserved a long +time, as greeting from the place in which once I could play carelessly, +and dream so happily.” + +With these words she pressed the flowers to her lips; Paaker sprang +forward, seized her hand, and covered it with burning kisses. + +Nefert started and drew away her hand, but he put out his arm to clasp +her to him. He had touched her with his trembling hand, when loud voices +were heard in the garden, and Nemu hurried in to announce he arrival of +the princess Bent-Anat. + +At the same moment Katuti appeared, and in a few minutes the princess +herself. + +Paaker retreated, and quitted the room before Nefert had time to express +her indignation. He staggered to his chariot like a drunken man. He +supposed himself beloved by Mena’s wife, his heart was full of triumph, +he proposed rewarding Hekt with gold, and went to the palace without +delay to crave of Ani a mission to Syria. There it should be brought to +the test--he or Mena. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +While Nefert, frozen with horror, could not find a word of greeting for +her royal friend, Bent-Anat with native dignity laid before the widow +her choice of Nefert to fill the place of her lost companion, and +desired that Mena’s wife should go to the palace that very day. + +She had never before spoken thus to Katuti, and Katuti could not +overlook the fact that Bent-Anat had intentionally given up her old +confidential tone. + +“Nefert has complained of me to her,” thought she to herself, “and she +considers me no longer worthy of her former friendly kindness.” + +She was vexed and hurt, and though she understood the danger which +threatened her, now her daughter’s eyes were opened, still the thought +of losing her child inflicted a painful wound. It was this which filled +her eyes with tears, and sincere sorrow trembled in her voice as she +replied: + +“Thou hast required the better half of my life at my hand; but thou hast +but to command, and I to obey.” Bent-Anat waved her hand proudly, as +if to confirm the widow’s statement; but Nefert went up to her mother, +threw her arms round her neck, and wept upon her shoulder. + +Tears glistened even in the princess’s eyes when Katuti at last led her +daughter towards her, and pressed yet one more kiss on her forehead. + +Bent-Anat took Nefert’s hand, and did not release it, while she +requested the widow to give her daughter’s dresses and ornaments into +the charge of the slaves and waiting-women whom she would send for them. + +“And do not forget the case with the dried flowers, and my amulets, and +the images of the Gods,” said Nefert. “And I should like to have the +Neha tree which my uncle gave me.” + +Her white cat was playing at her feet with Paaker’s flowers, which +she had dropped on the floor, and when she saw her she took her up and +kissed her. + +“Bring the little creature with you,” said Bent-Anat. “It was your +favorite plaything.” + +“No,” replied Nefert coloring. + +The princess understood her, pressed her hand, and said while she +pointed to Nemu: + +“The dwarf is your own too: shall he come with you?” + +“I will give him to my mother,” said Nefert. She let the little man kiss +her robe and her feet, once more embraced Katuti, and quitted the garden +with her royal friend. + +As soon as Katuti was alone, she hastened into the little chapel in +which the figures of her ancestors stood, apart from those of Mena. She +threw herself down before the statue of her husband, half weeping, half +thankful. + +This parting had indeed fallen heavily on her soul, but at the same +time it released her from a mountain of anxiety that had oppressed her +breast. Since yesterday she had felt like one who walks along the edge +of a precipice, and whose enemy is close at his heels; and the sense of +freedom from the ever threatening danger, soon got the upperhand of her +maternal grief. The abyss in front of her had suddenly closed; the road +to the goal of her efforts lay before her smooth and firm beneath her +feet. + +The widow, usually so dignified, hastily and eagerly walked down the +garden path, and for the first time since that luckless letter from the +camp had reached her, she could look calmly and clearly at the position +of affairs, and reflect on the measures which Ani must take in the +immediate future. She told herself that all was well, and that the time +for prompt and rapid action was now come. + +When the messengers came from the princess she superintended the +packing of the various objects which Nefert wished to have, with calm +deliberation, and then sent her dwarf to Ani, to beg that he would visit +her. But before Nemu had left Mena’s grounds he saw the out-runners of +the Regent, his chariot, and the troop of guards following him. + +Very soon Katuti and her noble friend were walking up and down in the +garden, while she related to him how Bent-Anat had taken Nefert from +her, and repeated to him all that she had planned and considered during +the last hour. + +“You have the genius of a man,” said Ani; “and this time you do not +urge me in vain. Ameni is ready to act, Paaker is to-day collecting his +troops, to-morrow he will assist at the feast of the Valley, and the +next day he goes to Syria.” + +“He has been with you?” Katuti asked. + +“He came to the palace on leaving your house,” replied Ani, “with +glowing cheeks, and resolved to the utmost; though he does not dream +that I hold him in my hand.” + +Thus speaking they entered the veranda, in which Nemu had remained, and +he now hid himself as usual behind the ornamental shrubs to overhear +them. They sat down near each other, by Nefert’s breakfast table, and +Ani asked Katuti whether the dwarf had told her his mother’s secret. +Katuti feigned ignorance, listened to the story of the love-philter, and +played the part of the alarmed mother very cleverly. The Regent was +of opinion, while he tried to soothe her, that there was no real +love-potion in the case; but the widow exclaimed: + +“Now I understand, now for the first time I comprehend my daughter. +Paaker must have poured the drink into her wine, for she had no sooner +drunk it this morning than she was quite altered her words to Paaker had +quite a tender ring in them; and if he placed himself so cheerfully at +your disposal it is because he believes himself certainly to be beloved +by my daughter. The old witch’s potion was effectual.” + +“There certainly are such drinks--” said Ani thoughtfully. “But will +they only win hearts to young men! If that is the case, the old woman’s +trade is a bad one, for youth is in itself a charm to attract love. If +I were only as young as Paaker! You laugh at the sighs of a man--say +at once of an old man! Well, yes, I am old, for the prime of life lies +behind me. And yet Katuti, my friend, wisest of women--explain to me one +thing. When I was young I was loved by many and admired many women, but +not one of them--not even my wife, who died young, was more to me than +a toy, a plaything; and now when I stretch out my hand for a girl, whose +father I might very well be--not for her own sake, but simply to serve +my purpose--and she refuses me, I feel as much disturbed, as much a fool +as-as that dealer in love-philters, Paaker.” + +“Have you spoken to Bent-Anat?” asked Katuti. + +“And heard again from her own lips the refusal she had sent me through +you. You see my spirit has suffered!” + +“And on what pretext did she reject your suit?” asked the widow. + +“Pretext!” cried Ani. “Bent-Anat and pretext! It must be owned that she +has kingly pride, and not Ma--[The Goddess of Truth]--herself is more +truthful than she. That I should have to confess it! When I think of +her, our plots seem to me unutterably pitiful. My veins contain, indeed, +many drops of the blood of Thotmes, and though the experience of life +has taught me to stoop low, still the stooping hurts me. I have never +known the happy feeling of satisfaction with my lot and my work; for +I have always had a greater position than I could fill, and constantly +done less than I ought to have done. In order not to look always +resentful, I always wear a smile. I have nothing left of the face I was +born with but the mere skin, and always wear a mask. I serve him whose +master I believe I ought to be by birth; I hate Rameses, who, sincerely +or no, calls me his brother; and while I stand as if I were the bulwark +of his authority I am diligently undermining it. My whole existence is a +lie.” + +“But it will be truth,” cried Katuti, “as soon as the Gods allow you to +be--as you are--the real king of this country.” + +“Strange!” said Ani smiling, Ameni, “this very day, used almost exactly +the same words. The wisdom of priests, and that of women, have much in +common, and they fight with the same weapons. You use words instead of +swords, traps instead of lances, and you cast not our bodies, but our +souls, into irons.” + +“Do you blame or praise us for it?” said the widow. “We are in any case +not impotent allies, and therefore, it seems to me, desirable ones.” + +“Indeed you are,” said Ani smiling. “Not a tear is shed in the land, +whether it is shed for joy or for sorrow, for which in the first +instance a priest or a woman is not responsible. Seriously, Katuti--in +nine great events out of ten you women have a hand in the game. You gave +the first impulse to all that is plotting here, and I will confess to +you that, regardless of all consequences, I should in a few hours have +given up my pretensions to the throne, if that woman Bent-Anat had said +‘yes’ instead of ‘no.’” + +“You make me believe,” said Katuti, “that the weaker sex are gifted +with stronger wills than the nobler. In marrying us you style us, ‘the +mistress of the house,’ and if the elders of the citizens grow infirm, +in this country it is not the sons but the daughters that must be +their mainstay. But we women have our weaknesses, and chief of these is +curiosity.--May I ask on what ground Bent-Anat dismissed you?” + +“You know so much that you may know all,” replied Ani. “She admitted +me to speak to her alone. It was yet early, and she had come from the +temple, where the weak old prophet had absolved her from uncleanness; +she met me, bright, beautiful and proud, strong and radiant as a +Goddess, and a princess. My heart throbbed as if I were a boy, and while +she was showing me her flowers I said to myself: ‘You are come to obtain +through her another claim to the throne.’ And yet I felt that, if she +consented to be mine, I would remain the true brother, the faithful +Regent of Rameses, and enjoy happiness and peace by her side before it +was too late. If she refused me then I resolved that fate must take +its way, and, instead of peace and love, it must be war for the crown +snatched from my fathers. I tried to woo her, but she cut my words +short, said I was a noble man, and a worthy suitor but--” + +“There came the but.” + +“Yes--in the form of a very frank ‘no.’ I asked her reasons. She begged +me to be content with the ‘no;’ then I pressed her harder, till she +interrupted me, and owned with proud decision that she preferred some +one else. I wished to learn the name of the happy man--that she refused. +Then my blood began to boil, and my desire to win her increased; but I +had to leave her, rejected, and with a fresh, burning, poisoned wound in +my heart.” + +“You are jealous!” said Katuti, “and do you know of whom?” + +“No,” replied Ani. “But I hope to find out through you. What I feel it +is impossible for me to express. But one thing I know, and that is +this, that I entered the palace a vacillating man--that I left it firmly +resolved. I now rush straight onwards, never again to turn back. From +this time forward you will no longer have to drive me onward, but rather +to hold me back; and, as if the Gods had meant to show that they would +stand by me, I found the high-priest Ameni, and the chief pioneer Paaker +waiting for me in my house. Ameni will act for me in Egypt, Paaker in +Syria. My victorious troops from Ethiopia will enter Thebes to-morrow +morning, on their return home in triumph, as if the king were at their +head, and will then take part in the Feast of the Valley. Later we will +send them into the north, and post them in the fortresses which protect +Egypt against enemies coming from the east Tanis, Daphne, Pelusium, +Migdol. Rameses, as you know, requires that we should drill the serfs of +the temples, and send them to him as auxiliaries. I will send him half +of the body-guard, the other half shall serve my own purposes. The +garrison of Memphis, which is devoted to Rameses, shall be sent to +Nubia, and shall be relieved by troops that are faithful to me. The +people of Thebes are led by the priests, and tomorrow Ameni will point +out to them who is their legitimate king, who will put an end to the war +and release them from taxes. The children of Rameses will be excluded +from the solemnities, for Ameni, in spite of the chief-priest of Anion, +still pronounces Bent-Anat unclean. Young Rameri has been doing wrong +and Ameni, who has some other great scheme in his mind, has forbidden +him the temple of Seti; that will work on the crowd! You know how things +are going on in Syria: Rameses has suffered much at the hands of the +Cheta and their allies; whole legions are weary of eternally lying +in the field, and if things came to extremities would join us; but, +perhaps, especially if Paaker acquits himself well, we may be victorious +without fighting. Above all things now we must act rapidly.” + +“I no longer recognize the timid, cautious lover of delay!” exclaimed +Katuti. + +“Because now prudent hesitation would be want of prudence,” said Ani. + +“And if the king should get timely information as to what is happening +here?” said Katuti. + +“I said so!” exclaimed Ani; “we are exchanging parts.” + +“You are mistaken,” said Katuti. “I also am for pressing forwards; but +I would remind you of a necessary precaution. No letters but yours must +reach the camp for the next few weeks.” + +“Once more you and the priests are of one mind,” said Ani laughing; “for +Ameni gave me the same counsel. Whatever letters are sent across the +frontier between Pelusium and the Red Sea will be detained. Only my +letters--in which I complain of the piratical sons of the desert who +fall upon the messengers--will reach the king.” + +“That is wise,” said the widow; “let the seaports of the Red Sea +be watched too, and the public writers. When you are king, you can +distinguish those who are affected for or against you.” + +Ani shook his head and replied: + +“That would put me in a difficult position; for it I were to punish +those who are now faithful to their king, and exalt the others, I should +have to govern with unfaithful servants, and turn away the faithful +ones. You need not color, my kind friend, for we are kin, and my +concerns are yours.” + +Katuti took the hand he offered her and said: + +“It is so. And I ask no further reward than to see my father’s house +once more in the enjoyment of its rights.” + +“Perhaps we shall achieve it,” said Ani; “but in a short time +if--if--Reflect, Katuti; try to find out, ask your daughter to help you +to the utmost. Who is it that she--you know whom I mean--Who is it that +Bent-Anat loves?” + +The widow started, for Ani had spoken the last words with a vehemence +very foreign to his usual courtliness, but soon she smiled and repeated +to the Regent the names of the few young nobles who had not followed the +king, and remained in Thebes. “Can it be Chamus?” at last she said, “he +is at the camp, it is true, but nevertheless--” + +At this instant Nemu, who had not lost a word of the conversation, came +in as if straight from the garden and said: + +“Pardon me, my lady; but I have heard a strange thing.” + +“Speak,” said Katuti. + +“The high and mighty princess Bent-Anat, the daughter of Rameses, is +said to have an open love-affair with a young priest of the House of +Seti.” + +“You barefaced scoundrel!” exclaimed Ani, and his eyes sparkled with +rage. “Prove what you say, or you lose your tongue.” + +“I am willing to lose it as a slanderer and traitor according to the +law,” said the little man abjectly, and yet with a malicious laugh; “but +this time I shall keep it, for I can vouch for what I say. You both know +that Bent-Anat was pronounced unclean because she stayed for an hour and +more in the house of a paraschites. She had an assignation there with +the priest. At a second, in the temple of Hatasu, they were surprised by +Septah, the chief of the haruspices of the House of Seti.” + +“Who is the priest?” asked Ani with apparent calmness. + +“A low-born man,” replied Nemu, “to whom a free education was given +at the House of Seti, and who is well known as a verse-maker and +interpreter of dreams. His name is Pentaur, and it certainly must be +admitted that he is handsome and dignified. He is line for line the +image of the pioneer Paaker’s late father. Didst thou ever see him, my +lord?” + +The Regent looked gloomily at the floor and nodded that he had. But +Katuti cried out; “Fool that I am! the dwarf is right! I saw how she +blushed when her brother told her how the boys had rebelled on his +account against Ameni. It is Pentaur and none other!” + +“Good!” said Ani, “we will see.” + +With these words he took leave of Katuti, who, as he disappeared in +the garden, muttered to herself: “He was wonderfully clear and decided +to-day; but jealousy is already blinding him and will soon make him feel +that he cannot get on without my sharp eyes.” + +Nemu had slipped out after the Regent. + +He called to him from behind a fig-tree, and hastily whispered, while he +bowed with deep respect: + +“My mother knows a great deal, most noble highness! The sacred Ibis + + [Ibis religiosa. It has disappeared from Egypt There were two + varieties of this bird, which was sacred to Toth, and mummies of + both have been found in various places. Elian states that an + immortal Ibis was shown at Hermopolis. Plutarch says, the ibis + destroys poisonous reptiles, and that priests draw the water for + their purifications where the Ibis has drunk, as it will never touch + unwholesome water.] + +wades through the fen when it goes in search of prey, and why shouldst +thou not stoop to pick up gold out of the dust? I know how thou couldst +speak with the old woman without being seen.” + +“Speak,” said Ani. + +“Throw her into prison for a day, hear what she has to say, and then +release her--with gifts if she is of service to you--if not, with blows. +But thou wilt learn something important from her that she obstinately +refused to tell me even.” + +“We will see!” replied the Regent. He threw a ring of gold to the dwarf +and got into his chariot. + +So large a crowd had collected in the vicinity of the palace, that Ani +apprehended mischief, and ordered his charioteer to check the pace +of the horses, and sent a few police-soldiers to the support of the +out-runners; but good news seemed to await him, for at the gate of the +castle he heard the unmistakable acclamations of the crowd, and in the +palace court he found a messenger from the temple of Seti, commissioned +by Ameni to communicate to him and to the people, the occurrence of a +great miracle, in that the heart of the ram of Anion, that had been torn +by wolves, had been found again within the breast of the dead prophet +Rui. + +Ani at once descended from his chariot, knelt down before all the +people, who followed his example, lifted his arms to heaven, and praised +the Gods in a loud voice. When, after some minutes, he rose and entered +the palace, slaves came out and distributed bread to the crowd in +Ameni’s name. + +“The Regent has an open hand,” said a joiner to his neighbor; “only look +how white the bread is. I will put it in my pocket and take it to the +children.” + +“Give me a bit!” cried a naked little scamp, snatching the cake of bread +from the joiner’s hand and running away, slipping between the legs of +the people as lithe as a snake. + +“You crocodile’s brat!” cried his victim. “The insolence of boys gets +worse and worse every day.” + +“They are hungry,” said the woman apologetically. “Their fathers are +gone to the war, and the mothers have nothing for their children but +papyrus-pith and lotus-seeds.” + +“I hope they enjoy it,” laughed the joiner. “Let us push to the left; +there is a man with some more bread.” + +“The Regent must rejoice greatly over the miracle,” said a shoemaker. +“It is costing him something.” + +“Nothing like it has happened for a long time,” said a basket-maker. +“And he is particularly glad it should be precisely Rui’s body, which +the sacred heart should have blessed. You ask why?--Hatasu is Ani’s +ancestress, blockhead!” + +“And Rui was prophet of the temple of Hatasu,” added the joiner. + +“The priests over there are all hangers-on of the old royal house, that +I know,” asserted a baker. + +“That’s no secret!” cried the cobbler. “The old times were better than +these too. The war upsets everything, and quite respectable people go +barefoot because they cannot pay for shoe-leather. Rameses is a great +warrior, and the son of Ra, but what can he do without the Gods; and +they don’t seem to like to stay in Thebes any longer; else why should +the heart of the sacred ram seek a new dwelling in the Necropolis, and +in the breast of an adherent of the old--” + +“Hold your tongue,” warned the basket-maker. “Here comes one of the +watch.” + +“I must go back to work,” said the baker. “I have my hands quite full +for the feast to-morrow.” + +“And I too,” said the shoemaker with a sigh, “for who would follow the +king of the Gods through the Necropolis barefoot.” + +“You must earn a good deal,” cried the basket-maker. “We should do +better if we had better workmen,” replied the shoemaker, “but all +the good hands are gone to the war. One has to put up with stupid +youngsters. And as for the women! My wife must needs have a new gown for +the procession, and bought necklets for the children. Of course we must +honor the dead, and they repay it often by standing by us when we want +it--but what I pay for sacrifices no one can tell. More than half of +what I earn goes in them--” + +“In the first grief of losing my poor wife,” said the baker, “I promised +a small offering every new moon, and a greater one every year. The +priests will not release us from our vows, and times get harder and +harder. And my dead wife owes me a grudge, and is as thankless as she +was is her lifetime; for when she appears to me in a dream she does not +give me a good word, and often torments me.” + +“She is now a glorified all-seeing spirit,” said the basket-maker’s +wife, “and no doubt you were faithless to her. The glorified souls know +all that happens, and that has happened on earth.” + +The baker cleared his throat, having no answer ready; but the shoemaker +exclaimed: + +“By Anubis, the lord of the under-world, I hope I may die before my old +woman! for if she finds out down there all I have done in this world, +and if she may be changed into any shape she pleases, she will come to +me every night, and nip me like a crab, and sit on me like a mountain.” + +“And if you die first,” said the woman, “she will follow you afterwards +to the under-world, and see through you there.” + +“That will be less dangerous,” said the shoemaker laughing, “for then +I shall be glorified too, and shall know all about her past life. That +will not all be white paper either, and if she throws a shoe at me I +will fling the last at her.” + +“Come home,” said the basket-maker’s wife, pulling her husband away. +“You are getting no good by hearing this talk.” + +The bystanders laughed, and the baker exclaimed: + +“It is high time I should be in the Necropolis before it gets dark, and +see to the tables being laid for to-morrow’s festival. My trucks are +close to the narrow entrance to the valley. Send your little ones to me, +and I will give them something nice. Are you coming over with me?” + +“My younger brother is gone over with the goods,” replied the shoemaker. +“We have plenty to do still for the customers in Thebes, and here am +I standing gossiping. Will the wonderful heart of the sacred ram be +exhibited to-morrow do you know?” + +“Of course--no doubt,” said the baker, “good-bye, there go my cases!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +Notwithstanding the advanced hour, hundreds of people were crossing over +to the Necropolis at the same time as the baker. They were permitted +to linger late on into the evening, under the inspection of the watch, +because it was the eve of the great feast, and they had to set out their +counters and awnings, to pitch their tents, and to spread out their +wares; for as soon as the sun rose next day all business traffic would +be stopped, none but festal barges might cross from Thebes, or such +boats as ferried over pilgrims--men, women, and children whether natives +or foreigners, who were to take part in the great procession. + +In the halls and work-rooms of the House of Seti there was unusual stir. +The great miracle of the wonderful heart had left but a short time for +the preparations for the festival. Here a chorus was being practised, +there on the sacred lake a scenic representation was being rehearsed; +here the statues of the Gods were being cleaned and dressed, + + [The dressing and undressing of the holy images was conducted in + strict accordance with a prescribed ritual. The inscriptions in the + seven sanctuaries of Abydos, published by Alariette, are full of + instruction as to these ordinances, which were significant in every + detail.] + +and the colors of the sacred emblems were being revived, there the +panther-skins and other parts of the ceremonial vestments of the +priests were being aired and set out; here sceptres, censers and other +metal-vessels were being cleaned, and there the sacred bark which was to +be carried in the procession was being decorated. In the sacred groves +of the temple the school-boys, under the direction of the gardeners, +wove garlands and wreaths to decorate the landing-places, the sphinxes, +the temple, and the statues of the Gods. Flags were hoisted on the +brass-tipped masts in front of the pylon, and purple sails were spread +to give shadow to the court. + +The inspector of sacrifices was already receiving at a side-door the +cattle, corn and fruit, offerings which were brought as tribute to +the House of Seti, by citizens from all parts of the country, on the +occasion of the festival of the Valley, and he was assisted by scribes, +who kept an account of all that was brought in by the able-bodied +temple-servants and laboring serfs. + +Ameni was everywhere: now with the singers, now with the magicians, +who were to effect wonderful transformations before the astonished +multitude; now with the workmen, who were erecting thrones for the +Regent, the emissaries from other collegiate foundations--even from so +far as the Delta--and the prophets from Thebes; now with the priests, +who were preparing the incense, now with the servants, who were trimming +the thousand lamps for the illumination at night--in short everywhere; +here inciting, there praising. When he had convinced himself that all +was going on well he desired one of the priests to call Pentaur. + +After the departure of the exiled prince Rameri, the young priest had +gone to the work-room of his friend Nebsecht. + +The leech went uneasily from his phials to his cages, and from his cages +back to his flasks. While he told Pentaur of the state he had found his +room in on his return home, he wandered about in feverish excitement, +unable to keep still, now kicking over a bundle of plants, now thumping +down his fist on the table; his favorite birds were starved to death, +his snakes had escaped, and his ape had followed their example, +apparently in his fear of them. + +“The brute, the monster!” cried Nebsecht in a rage. “He has thrown over +the jars with the beetles in them, opened the chest of meal that I feed +the birds and insects upon, and rolled about in it; he has thrown my +knives, prickers, and forceps, my pins, compasses, and reed pens all out +of window; and when I came in he was sitting on the cupboard up there, +looking just like a black slave that works night and day in a corn-mill; +he had got hold of the roll which contained all my observations on the +structure of animals--the result of years of study-and was looking at it +gravely with his head on one side. I wanted to take the book from him, +but he fled with the roll, sprang out of window, let himself down to +the edge of the well, and tore and rubbed the manuscript to pieces in a +rage. I leaped out after him, but he jumped into the bucket, took hold +of the chain, and let himself down, grinning at me in mockery, and when +I drew him up again he jumped into the water with the remains of the +book.” + +“And the poor wretch is drowned?” asked Pentaur. + +“I fished him up with the bucket, and laid him to dry in the sun; but +he had been tasting all sorts of medicines, and he died at noon. My +observations are gone! Some of them certainly are still left; however, +I must begin again at the beginning. You see apes object as much to my +labors as sages; there lies the beast on the shelf.” + +Pentaur had laughed at his friend’s story, and then lamented his loss; +but now he said anxiously: + +“He is lying there on the shelf? But you forget that he ought to have +been kept in the little oratory of Toth near the library. He belongs to +the sacred dogfaced apes, + + [The dog faced baboon, Kynokephalos, was sacred to Toth as the + Moongod. Mummies of these apes have been found at Thebes and + Hermopolis, and they are often represented as reading with much + gravity. Statues of them have been found to great quantities, and + there is a particularly life-like picture of a Kynokephalos in + relief on the left wall of the library of the temple of Isis at + Philoe.] + +and all the sacred marks were found upon him. The librarian gave him +into your charge to have his bad eye cured.” + +“That was quite well,” answered Nebsecht carelessly. + +“But they will require the uninjured corpse of you, to embalm it,” said +Pentaur. + +“Will they?” muttered Nebsecht; and he looked at his friend like a boy +who is asked for an apple that has long been eaten. + +“And you have already been doing something with it,” said Pentaur, in a +tone of friendly vexation. + +The leech nodded. “I have opened him, and examined his heart.’ + +“You are as much set on hearts as a coquette!” said Pentaur. “What is +become of the human heart that the old paraschites was to get for you?” + +Nebsecht related without reserve what the old man had done for him, and +said that he had investigated the human heart, and had found nothing in +it different from what he had discovered in the heart of beasts. + +“But I must see it in connection with the other organs of the human +body,” cried he; “and my decision is made. I shall leave the House +of Seti, and ask the kolchytes to take me into their guild. If it is +necessary I will first perform the duties of the lowest paraschites.” + +Pentaur pointed out to the leech what a bad exchange he would be making, +and at last exclaimed, when Nebsecht eagerly contradicted him, “This +dissecting of the heart does not please me. You say yourself that you +learned nothing by it. Do you still think it a right thing, a fine +thing--or even useful?” + +“I do not trouble myself about it,” replied Nebsecht. “Whether my +observations seem good or evil, right or heinous, useful or useless, I +want to know how things are, nothing more.” + +“And so for mere curiosity,” cried Pentaur, “you would endanger the +blissful future of thousands of your fellow-men, take upon yourself the +most abject duties, and leave this noble scene of your labors, where we +all strive for enlightenment, for inward knowledge and truth.” + +The naturalist laughed scornfully; the veins swelled angrily in +Pentaur’s forehead, and his voice took a threatening tone as he asked: + +“And do you believe that your finger and your eyes have lighted on the +truth, when the noblest souls have striven in vain for thousands +of years to find it out? You descend beneath the level of human +understanding by madly wallowing in the mire; and the more clearly you +are convinced that you have seized the truth, the more utterly you are +involved in the toils of a miserable delusion.” + +“If I believed I knew the truth should I so eagerly seek it?” asked +Nebsecht. “The more I observe and learn, the more deeply I feel my want +of knowledge and power.” + +“That sounds modest enough,” said the poet, “but I know the arrogance to +which your labors are leading you. Everything that you see with your own +eyes and touch with your own hand, you think infallible, and everything +that escapes your observation you secretly regard as untrue, and pass +by with a smile of superiority. But you cannot carry your experiments +beyond the external world, and you forget that there are things which +lie in a different realm.” + +“I know nothing of those things,” answered Nebsecht quietly. + +“But we--the Initiated,” cried Pentaur, “turn our attention to them +also. Thoughts--traditions--as to their conditions and agency have +existed among us for a thousand years; hundreds of generations of men +have examined these traditions, have approved them, and have handed +them down to us. All our knowledge, it is true, is defective, and yet +prophets have been favored with the gift of looking into the future, +magic powers have been vouchsafed to mortals. All this is contrary to +the laws of the external world, which are all that you recognize, and +yet it can easily be explained if we accept the idea of a higher order +of things. The spirit of the Divinity dwells in each of us, as in +nature. The natural man can only attain to such knowledge as is common +to all; but it is the divine capacity for serene discernment--which +is omniscience--that works in the seer; it is the divine and unlimited +power--which is omnipotence--that from time to time enables the magician +to produce supernatural effects!” + +“Away with prophets and marvels!” cried Nebsecht. + +“I should have thought,” said Pentaur, “that even the laws of nature +which you recognize presented the greatest marvels daily to your eyes; +nay the Supreme One does not disdain sometimes to break through the +common order of things, in order to reveal to that portion of +Himself which we call our soul, the sublime Whole of which we form +part--Himself. Only today you have seen how the heart of the sacred +ram--” + +“Man, man!” Nebsecht interrupted, “the sacred heart is the heart of a +hapless sheep that a sot of a soldier sold for a trifle to a haggling +grazier, and that was slaughtered in a common herd. A proscribed +paraschites put it into the body of Rui, and--and--” he opened the +cupboard, threw the carcase of the ape and some clothes on to the floor, +and took out an alabaster bowl which he held before the poet--“the +muscles you see here in brine, this machine, once beat in the breast +of the prophet Rui. My sheep’s heart wilt be carried to-morrow in the +procession! I would have told you all about it if I had not promised the +old man to hold my tongue, and then--But what ails you, man?” Pentaur +had turned away from his friend, and covered his face with his hands, +and he groaned as if he were suffering some frightful physical pain. +Nebsecht divined what was passing in the mind of his friend. Like a +child that has to ask forgiveness of its mother for some misdeed, he +went close up to Pentaur, but stood trembling behind him not daring to +speak to him. + +Several minutes passed. Suddenly Pentaur raised his head, lifted his +hands to heaven, and cried: + +“O Thou! the One!--though stars may fall from the heavens in summer +nights, still Thy eternal and immutable laws guide the never-resting +planets in their paths. Thou pure and all-prevading Spirit, that +dwellest in me, as I know by my horror of a lie, manifest Thyself in +me--as light when I think, as mercy when I act, and when I speak, as +truth--always as truth!” + +The poet spoke these words with absorbed fervor, and Nebsecht heard them +as if they were speech from some distant and beautiful world. He went +affectionately up to his friend, and eagerly held out his hand. Pentaur +grasped it, pressed it warmly, and said: + +“That was a fearful moment! You do not know what Ameni has been to me, +and now, now!” + +He hardly had ceased speaking when steps were heard approaching the +physician’s room, and a young priest requested the friends to appear at +once in the meeting-room of the Initiated. In a few moments they both +entered the great hall, which was brilliantly lighted. + +Not one of the chiefs of the House of Seti was absent. + +Ameni sat on a raised seat at a long table; on his right hand was old +Gagabu, on his left the third Prophet of the temple. The principals of +the different orders of priests had also found places at the table, and +among them the chief of the haruspices, while the rest of the priests, +all in snow-white linen robes, sat, with much dignity, in a large +semicircle, two rows deep. In the midst stood a statue of the Goddess of +truth and justice. + +Behind Ameni’s throne was the many-colored image of the ibis-headed +Toth, who presided over the measure and method of things, who counselled +the Gods as well as men, and presided over learning and the arts. In a +niche at the farther end of the hall were painted the divine Triad +of Thebes, with Rameses I. and his son Seti, who approached them with +offerings. The priests were placed with strict regard to their rank, and +the order of initiation. Pentaur’s was the lowest place of all. + +No discussion of any importance had as yet taken place, for Ameni +was making enquiries, receiving information, and giving orders with +reference to the next day’s festival. All seemed to be well arranged, +and promised a magnificent solemnity; although the scribes complained of +the scarce influx of beasts from the peasants, who were so heavily +taxed for the war, and although that feature would be wanting in the +procession which was wont to give it the greatest splendor--the presence +of the king and the royal family. + +This circumstance aroused the disapprobation of some of the priests, who +were of opinion that it would be hazardous to exclude the two children +of Rameses, who remained in Thebes, from any share in the solemnities of +the feast. + +Ameni then rose. + +“We have sent the boy Rameri,” he said, “away from this house. Bent-Anat +must be purged of her uncleanness, and if the weak superior of the +temple of Anion absolves her, she may pass for purified over there, +where they live for this world only, but not here, where it is our duty +to prepare the soul for death. The Regent, a descendant of the great +deposed race of kings, will appear in the procession with all the +splendor of his rank. I see you are surprised, my friends. Only he! Aye! +Great things are stirring, and it may happen that soon the mild sun of +peace may rise upon our war-ridden people.” + +“Miracles are happening,” he continued, “and in a dream I saw a gentle +and pious man on the throne of the earthly vicar of Ra. He listened to +our counsel, he gave us our due, and led back to our fields our serfs +that had been sent to the war; he overthrew the altars of the strange +gods, and drove the unclean stranger out from this holy land.” + +“The Regent Ani!” exclaimed Septah. + +An eager movement stirred the assembly, but Ameni went on: + +“Perhaps it was not unlike him, but he certainly was the One; he had the +features of the true and legitimate descendants of Ra, to whom Rui was +faithful, in whose breast the heart of the sacred ram found a refuge. +To-morrow this pledge of the divine grace shall be shown to the people, +and another mercy will also be announced to them. Hear and praise the +dispensations of the Most High! An hour ago I received the news that +a new Apis, with all the sacred marks upon him, has been found in the +herds of Ani at Hermonthis.” + +Fresh excitement was shown by the listening conclave. Ameni let their +astonishment express itself freely, but at last he exclaimed: + +“And now to settle the last question. The priest Pentaur, who is now +present, has been appointed speaker at the festival to-morrow. He has +erred greatly, yet I think we need not judge him till after the holy +day, and, in consideration of his former innocence, need not deprive him +of the honorable office. Do you share my wishes? Is there no dissentient +voice? Then come forward, you, the youngest of us all, who are so highly +trusted by this holy assembly.” + +Pentaur rose and placed himself opposite to Ameni, in order to give, +as he was required to do, a broad outline of the speech he proposed to +deliver next day to the nobles and the people. + +The whole assembly, even his opponents, listened to him with +approbation. Ameni, too, praised him, but added: + +“I miss only one thing on which you must dwell at greater length, and +treat with warmer feeling--I mean the miracle which has stirred our +souls to-day. We must show that the Gods brought the sacred heart--” + +“Allow me,” said Pentaur, interrupting the high-priest, and looking +earnestly into those eyes which long since he had sung of--“Allow me to +entreat you not to select me to declare this new marvel to the people.” + +Astonishment was stamped on the face of every member of the assembly. +Each looked at his neighbor, then at Pentaur, and at last enquiringly at +Ameni. The superior knew Pentaur, and saw that no mere whimsical fancy, +but some serious motive had given rise to this refusal. Horror, almost +aversion, had rung in his tone as he said the words ‘new marvel.’ He +doubted the genuineness of this divine manifestation! + +Ameni gazed long and enquiringly into Pentaur’s eyes, and then said: +“You are right, my friend. Before judgment has been passed on you, +before you are reinstated in your old position, your lips are not worthy +to announce this divine wonder to the multitude. Look into your own +soul, and teach the devout a horror of sin, and show them the way, which +you must now tread, of purification of the heart. I myself will announce +the miracle.” + +The white-robed audience hailed this decision of their master with +satisfaction. Ameni enjoined this thing on one, on another, that; and on +all, perfect silence as to the dream which he had related to them, and +then he dissolved the meeting. He begged only Gagabu and Pentaur to +remain. + +As soon as they were alone Ameni asked the poet “Why did you refuse to +announce to the people the miracle, which has filled all the priests of +the Necropolis with joy?” + +“Because thou hast taught me,” replied Pentaur, “that truth is the +highest aim we can have, and that there is nothing higher.” + +“I tell you so again now,” said Ameni. “And as you recognize this +doctrine, I ask you, in the name of the fair daughter of Ra. Do you +doubt the genuineness of the miracle that took place under our very +eyes?” + +“I doubt it,” replied Pentaur. + +“Remain on the high stand-point of veracity,” continued Ameni, “and +tell us further, that we may learn, what are the scruples that shake thy +faith?” + +“I know,” replied the poet with a dark expression, “that the heart which +the crowd will approach and bow to, before which even the Initiated +prostrate themselves as if it had been the incarnation of Ra, was torn +from the bleeding carcass of a common sheep, and smuggled into the +kanopus which contained the entrails of Rui.” + +Ameni drew back a step, and Gagabu cried out “Who says so? Who can prove +it? As I grow older I hear more and more frightful things!” + +“I know it,” said Pentaur decidedly. “But I can, not reveal the name of +him from whom I learned it.” + +“Then we may believe that you are mistaken, and that some impostor is +fooling you. We will enquire who has devised such a trick, and he shall +be punished! To scorn the voice of the Divinity is a sin, and he who +lends his ear to a lie is far from the truth. Sacred and thrice sacred +is the heart, blind fool, that I purpose to-morrow to show to the +people, and before which you yourself--if not with good will, then by +compulsion--shall fall, prostrate in the dust. + +“Go now, and reflect on the words with which you will stir the souls of +the people to-morrow morning; but know one thing--Truth has many forms, +and her aspects are as manifold as those of the Godhead. As the sun does +not travel over a level plain or by a straight path--as the stars follow +a circuitous course, which we compare with the windings of the snake +Mehen,--so the elect, who look out over time and space, and on whom the +conduct of human life devolves, are not only permitted, but commanded, +to follow indirect ways in order to reach the highest aims, ways that +you do not understand, and which you may fancy deviate widely from the +path of truth. You look only at to-day, we look forward to the morrow, +and what we announce as truth you must needs believe. And mark my words: +A lie stains the soul, but doubt eats into it.” + +Ameni had spoken with strong excitement; when Pentaur had left the room, +and he was alone with Gagabu, he exclaimed: + +“What things are these? Who is ruining the innocent child-like spirit of +this highly favored youth?” + +“He is ruining it himself,” replied Gagabu. “He is putting aside the old +law, for he feels a new one growing up in his own breast.” + +“But the laws,” exclaimed Ameni, “grow and spread like shadowy woods; +they are made by no one. I loved the poet, yet I must restrain him, else +he will break down all barriers, like the Nile when it swells too high. +And what he says of the miracle--” + +“Did you devise it?” + +“By the Holy One--no!” cried Ameni. + +“And yet Pentaur is sincere, and inclined to faith,” said the old man +doubtfully. + +“I know it,” returned Ameni. “It happened as he said. But who did it, +and who told him of the shameful deed?” + +Both the priests stood thoughtfully gazing at the floor. + +Ameni first broke the silence. + +“Pentaur came in with Nebsecht,” he exclaimed, “and they are intimate +friends. Where was the leech while I was staying in Thebes?” + +“He was taking care of the child hurt by Bent-Anat--the child of the +paraschites Pinem, and he stayed there three days,” replied Gagabu. + +“And it was Pinem,” said Ameni, “that opened the body of Rui! Now I know +who has dimmed Pentaur’s faith. It was that inquisitive stutterer, +and he shall be made to repent of it. For the present let us think of +to-morrow’s feast, but the day after I will examine that nice couple, +and will act with iron severity.” + +“First let us examine the naturalist in private,” said Gagabu. “He is +an ornament to the temple, for he has investigated many matters, and his +dexterity is wonderful.” + +“All that may be considered Ameni said, interrupting the old enough to +think of at present.” + +“And even more to consider later,” retorted Gagabu. “We have entered on +a dangerous path. You know very well I am still hot-headed, though I am +old in years, and alas! timidity was never my weakness; but Rameses is a +powerful man, and duty compels me to ask you: Is it mere hatred for the +king that has led you to take these hasty and imprudent steps?” + +“I have no hatred for Rameses,” answered Ameni gravely. “If he did not +wear the crown I could love him; I know him too, as well as if I were +his brother, and value all that is great in him; nay I will admit that +he is disfigured by no littleness. If I did not know how strong the +enemy is, we might try to overthrow him with smaller means. You know as +well as I do that he is our enemy. Not yours, nor mine, nor the enemy of +the Gods; but the enemy of the old and reverend ordinances by which this +people and this country must be governed, and above all of those who +are required to protect the wisdom of the fathers, and to point out the +right way to the sovereign--I mean the priesthood, whom it is my duty to +lead, and for whose rights I will fight with every weapon of the spirit. +In this contest, as you know, all that otherwise would be falsehood, +treachery, and cunning, puts on the bright aspect of light and truth. +As the physician needs the knife and fire to heal the sick, we must do +fearful things to save the community when it is in danger. Now you will +see me fight with every weapon, for if we remain idle, we shall soon +cease to be the leaders of the state, and become the slaves of the +king.” + +Gagabu nodded assent, but Ameni went on with increasing warmth, and in +that rhythmical accent in which, when he came out of the holy of holies, +he was accustomed to declare the will of the Divinity, “You were my +teacher, and I value you, and so you now shall be told everything that +stirred my soul, and made me first resolve upon this fearful struggle. +I was, as you know, brought up in this temple with Rameses--and it was +very wise of Seti to let his son grow up here with other boys. At work +and at play the heir to the throne and I won every prize. He was quite +my superior in swift apprehension--in keen perception--but I had greater +caution, and deeper purpose. Often he laughed at my laborious efforts, +but his brilliant powers appeared to me a vain delusion. I became one of +the initiated, he ruled the state in partnership with his father, and, +when Seti died, by himself. We both grew older, but the foundation +of our characters remained the same. He rushed to splendid victories, +overthrew nations, and raised the glory of the Egyptian name to a giddy +height, though stained with the blood of his people; I passed my life +in industry and labor, in teaching the young, and in guarding the +laws which regulate the intercourse of men and bind the people to the +Divinity. I compared the present with the past: What were the priests? +How had they come to be what they are? What would Egypt be without them? +There is not an art, not a science, not a faculty that is not thought +out, constructed, and practised by us. We crown the kings, we named the +Gods, and taught the people to honor them as divine--for the crowd needs +a hand to lead it, and under which it shall tremble as under the mighty +hand of Fate. We are the willing ministers of the divine representative +of Ra on the throne, so long as he rules in accordance with our +institutions--as the One God reigns, subject to eternal laws. He used to +choose his counsellors from among us; we told him what would benefit the +country, he heard us willingly, and executed our plans. The old kings +were the hands, but we, the priests, were the head. And now, my father, +what has become of us? We are made use of to keep the people in the +faith, for if they cease to honor the Gods how will they submit to +kings? Seti ventured much, his son risks still more, and therefore +both have required much succor from the Immortals. Rameses is pious, +he sacrifices frequently, and loves prayer: we are necessary to him, to +waft incense, to slaughter hecatombs, to offer prayers, and to interpret +dreams--but we are no longer his advisers. My father, now in Osiris, a +worthier high-priest than I, was charged by the Prophets to entreat his +father to give up the guilty project of connecting the north sea by a +navigable channel with the unclean waters of the Red Sea. + + [The harbors of the Red Sea were in the hands of the Phoenicians, + who sailed from thence southwards to enrich themselves with the + produce of Arabia and Ophir. Pharaoh Necho also projected a Suez + canal, but does not appear to have carried it out, as the oracle + declared that the utility of the undertaking would be greatest to + foreigners.] + +“Such things can only benefit the Asiatics. But Seti would not listen +to our counsel. We desired to preserve the old division of the land, but +Rameses introduced the new to the disadvantage of the priests; we warned +him against fresh wars, and the king again and again has taken the +field; we had the ancient sacred documents which exempted our peasantry +from military service, and, as you know, he outrageously defies them. +From the most ancient times no one has been permitted to raise temples +in this land to strange Gods, and Rameses favors the son of the +stranger, and, not only in the north country, but in the reverend city +of Memphis and here in Thebes, he has raised altars and magnificent +sanctuaries, in the strangers’ quarter, to the sanguinary false Gods of +the East.” + + [Human sacrifices, which had been introduced into Egypt by the + Phoenicians, were very early abolished.] + +“You speak like a Seer,” cried old Gagabu, “and what you say is +perfectly true. We are still called priests, but alas! our counsel is +little asked. ‘You have to prepare men for a happy lot in the other +world,’ Rameses once said; ‘I alone can guide their destinies in this.’” + +“He did say so,” answered Ameni, “and if he had said no more than that +he would have been doomed. He and his house are the enemies of our +rights and of our noble country. Need I tell you from whom the race of +the Pharaoh is descended? Formerly the hosts who came from the east, and +fell on our land like swarms of locusts, robbing and destroying it, were +spoken of as ‘a curse’ and a ‘pest.’ Rameses’ father was of that race. +When Ani’s ancestors expelled the Hyksos, the bold chief, whose children +now govern Egypt, obtained the favor of being allowed to remain on +the banks of the Nile; they served in the armies, they distinguished +themselves, and, at last, the first Rameses succeeded in gaining the +troops over to himself, and in pushing the old race of the legitimate +sons of Ra, weakened as they were by heresy, from the throne. I must +confess, however unwillingly, that some priests of the true faith--among +them your grandfather, and mine--supported the daring usurper who clung +faithfully to the old traditions. Not less than a hundred generations +of my ancestors, and of yours, and of many other priestly families, have +lived and died here by the banks of the Nile--of Rameses race we have +seen ten, and only know of them that they descend from strangers, from +the caste of Amu! He is like all the Semitic race; they love to +wander, they call us ploughmen,--[The word Fellah (pl. Fellahin) means +ploughman]--and laugh to scorn the sober regularity with which we, +tilling the dark soil, live through our lives to a tardy death, in +honest labor both of mind and body. They sweep round on foraying +excursions, ride the salt waves in ships, and know no loved and fixed +home; they settle down wherever they are tempted by rapine, and when +there is nothing more to be got they build a house in another spot. Such +was Seti, such is Rameses! For a year he will stop in Thebes, then he +must set out for wars in strange lands. He does not know how to yield +piously, or to take advice of wise counsellors, and he will not learn. +And such as the father is, so are the children! Think of the criminal +behavior of Bent-Anat!” + +“I said the kings liked foreigners. Have you duly considered the +importance of that to us? We strive for high and noble aims, and have +wrenched off the shackles of the flesh in order to guard our souls. The +poorest man lives secure under the shelter of the law, and through us +participates in the gifts of the spirit; to the rich are offered the +priceless treasures of art and learning. Now look abroad: east and west +wandering tribes roam over the desert with wretched tents; in the south +a debased populace prays to feathers, and to abject idols, who are +beaten if the worshipper is not satisfied. In the north certainly there +are well regulated states, but the best part of the arts and sciences +which they possess they owe to us, and their altars still reek with the +loathsome sacrifice of human blood. Only backsliding from the right is +possible under the stranger, and therefore it is prudent to withdraw +from him; therefore he is hateful to our Gods. And Rameses, the king, +is a stranger, by blood and by nature, in his affections, and in his +appearance; his thoughts are always abroad--this country is too small +for him--and he will never perceive what is really best for him, clear +as his intellect is. He will listen to no guidance, he does mischief to +Egypt, and therefore I say: Down with him from the throne!” + +“Down with him!”--Gagabu eagerly echoed the words. Ameni gave the old +man his hand, which trembled with excitement, and went on more calmly. + +“The Regent Ani is a legitimate child of the soil, by his father and +mother both. I know him well, and I am sure that though he is cunning +indeed, he is full of true veneration, and will righteously establish +us in the rights which we have inherited. The choice is easy: I have +chosen, and I always carry through what I have once begun! Now you know +all, and you will second me.” + +“With body and soul!” cried Gagabu. + +“Strengthen the hearts of the brethren,” said Ameni, preparing to go. +“The initiated may all guess what is going on, but it must never be +spoken of.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +The sun was up on the twenty-ninth morning of the second month of the +over-flow of the Nile, + + [The 29th Phaophi. The Egyptians divided the year into three + seasons of four months each. Flood-time, seed-time and Harvest. + (Scha, per and schemu.) The 29th Phaophi corresponds to the 8th + November.] + +and citizens and their wives, old men and children, freemen and slaves, +led by priests, did homage to the rising day-star before the door of the +temple to which the quarter of the town belonged where each one dwelt. + +The Thebans stood together like Huge families before the pylons, waiting +for the processions of priests, which they intended to join in order to +march in their train round the great temple of the city, and thence to +cross with the festal barks to the Necropolis. + +To-day was the Feast of the Valley, and Anion, the great God of Thebes, +was carried over in solemn pomp to the City of the Dead, in order that +he--as the priests said--might sacrifice to his fathers in the other +world. The train marched westward; for there, where the earthly remains +of man also found rest, the millions of suns had disappeared, each of +which was succeeded daily by a new one, born of the night. The +young luminary, the priests said, did not forget those that had been +extinguished, and from whom he was descended; and Anion paid them this +mark of respect to warn the devout not to forget those who were passed +away, and to whom they owed their existence. + +“Bring offerings,” says a pious text, “to thy father and thy mother +who rest in the valley of the tombs; for such gifts are pleasing to the +Gods, who will receive them as if brought to themselves. Often visit thy +dead, so that what thou dost for them, thy son may do for thee.” + +The Feast of the Valley was a feast of the dead; but it was not a +melancholy solemnity, observed with lamentation and wailing; on the +contrary, it was a cheerful festival, devoted to pious and sentimental +memories of those whom we cease not to love after death, whom we esteem +happy and blest, and of whom we think with affection; to whom too the +throng from Thebes brought offerings, forming groups in the chapel-like +tombs, or in front of the graves, to eat and drink. + +Father, mother and children clung together; the house-slaves followed +with provisions, and with torches, which would light up the darkness of +the tomb and show the way home at night. + +Even the poorest had taken care to secure beforehand a place in one of +the large boats which conveyed the people across the stream; the barges +of the rich, dressed in the gayest colors, awaited their owners with +their households, and the children had dreamed all night of the sacred +bark of Anion, whose splendor, as their mothers told them, was +hardly less than that of the golden boat in which the Sun-God and his +companions make their daily voyage across the ocean of heaven. The broad +landing place of the temple of Anion was already crowded with priests, +the shore with citizens, and the river with boats; already loud music +drowned the din of the crowds, who thronged and pushed, enveloped in +clouds of dust, to reach the boats; the houses and hovels of Thebes +were all empty, and the advent of the God through the temple-gates was +eagerly expected; but still the members of the royal family had not +appeared, who were wont on this solemn day to go on foot to the great +temple of Anion; and, in the crowd, many a one asked his neighbor why +Bent-Anat, the fair daughter of Rameses, lingered so long, and delayed +the starting of the procession. + +The priests had begun their chant within the walls, which debarred the +outer world from any glimpse into the bright precincts of the temple; +the Regent with his brilliant train had entered the sanctuary; the gates +were thrown open; the youths in their short-aprons, who threw flowers +in the path of the God, had come out; clouds of incense announced the +approach of Anion--and still the daughter of Rameses appeared not. + +Many rumors were afloat, most of them contradictory; but one was +accurate, and confirmed by the temple servants, to the great regret of +the crowd--Bent-Anat was excluded from the Feast of the Valley. + +She stood on her balcony with her brother Rameri and her friend Nefert, +and looked down on the river, and on the approaching God. + +Early in the previous morning Bek-en-Chunsu, the old high-priest of the +temple of Anion had pronounced her clean, but in the evening he had +come to communicate to her the intelligence that Ameni prohibited her +entering the Necropolis before she had obtained the forgiveness of the +Gods of the West for her offence. + +While still under the ban of uncleanness she had visited the temple of +Hathor, and had defiled it by her presence; and the stern Superior +of the City of the Dead was in the right--that Bek-en-Chunsu himself +admitted--in closing the western shore against her. Bent-Anat then had +recourse to Ani; but, though he promised to mediate for her, he came +late in the evening to tell her that Ameni was inexorable. The Regent at +the same time, with every appearance of regret, advised her to avoid +an open quarrel, and not to defy Ameni’s lofty severity, but to remain +absent from the festival. + +Katuti at the same time sent the dwarf to Nefert, to desire her to join +her mother, in taking part in the procession, and in sacrificing in her +father’s tomb; but Nefert replied that she neither could nor would leave +her royal friend and mistress. + +Bent-Anat had given leave of absence to the highest members of +her household, and had prayed them to think of her at the splendid +solemnity. + +When, from her balcony, she saw the mob of people and the crowd of +boats, she went back into her room, called Rameri, who was angrily +declaiming at what he called Ameni’s insolence, took his hands in hers, +and said: + +“We have both done wrong, brother; let us patiently submit to the +consequences of our faults, and conduct ourselves as if our father were +with us.” + +“He would tear the panther-skin from the haughty priest’s shoulders,” + cried Rameri, “if he dared to humiliate you so in his presence;” and +tears of rage ran down his smooth cheeks as he spoke. + +“Put anger aside,” said Bent-Anat. “You were still quite little the last +time my father took part in this festival.” + +“Oh! I remember that morning well,” exclaimed Rameri, “and shall never +forget it.” + +“So I should think,” said the princess. “Do not leave us, Nefert--you +are now my sister. It was a glorious morning; we children were collected +in the great hall of the King, all in festival dresses; he had us called +into this room, which had been inhabited by my mother, who then had +been dead only a few months. He took each of us by the hand, and said he +forgave us everything we might have done wrong if only we were sincerely +penitent, and gave us each a kiss on our forehead. Then he beckoned us +all to him, and said, as humbly as if he were one of us instead of the +great king, ‘Perhaps I may have done one of you some injustice, or have +kept you out of some right; I am not conscious of such a thing, but if +it has occurred I am very sorry’--we all rushed upon him, and wanted +to kiss him, but he put us aside smiling, and said, ‘Each of you has +enjoyed an equal share of one thing, that you may be sure--I mean your +father’s love; and I see now that you return what I have given you.’ +Then he spoke of our mother, and said that even the tenderest father +could not fill the place of a mother. He drew a lovely picture of the +unselfish devotion of the dead mother, and desired us to pray and to +sacrifice with him at her resting-place, and to resolve to be worthy of +her; not only in great things but in trifles too, for they make up +the sum of life, as hours make the days, and the years. We elder ones +clasped each other’s hands, and I never felt happier than in that +moment, and afterwards by my mother’s grave.” Nefert raised her eyes +that were wet with tears. + +“With such a father it must be easy to be good,” she said. + +“Did your mother never speak good words that went to your heart on the +morning of this festival?” asked Bent-Anat. + +Nefert colored, and answered: “We were always late in dressing, and then +had to hurry to be at the temple in time.” + +“Then let me be your mother to-day,” cried the princess, “and yours too, +Rameri. Do you not remember how my father offered forgiveness to the +officers of the court, and to all the servants, and how he enjoined us +to root out every grudge from our hearts on this day? ‘Only stainless +garments,’ he said, ‘befit this feast; only hearts without spot.’ So, +brother, I will not hear an evil word about Ameni, who is most likely +forced to be severe by the law; my father will enquire into it all and +decide. My heart is so full, it must overflow. Come, Nefert, give me a +kiss, and you too, Rameri. Now I will go into my little temple, in +which the images of our ancestors stand, and think of my mother and the +blessed spirits of those loved ones to whom I may not sacrifice to-day.” + +“I will go with you,” said Rameri. + +“You, Nefert--stay here,” said Bent-Anat, “and cut as many flowers as +you like; take the best and finest, and make a wreath, and when it is +ready we will send a messenger across to lay it, with other gifts, on +the grave of your Mena’s mother.” + +When, half-an-hour later, the brother and sister returned to the young +wife, two graceful garlands hung in Nefert’s bands, one for the grave of +the dead queen, and one for Mena’s mother. + +“I will carry over the wreaths, and lay them in the tombs,” cried the +prince. + +“Ani thought it would be better that we should not show ourselves to the +people,” said his sister. “They will scarcely notice that you are not +among the school-boys, but--” + +“But I will not go over as the king’s son, but as a gardener’s boy--” + interrupted the prince. “Listen to the flourish of trumpets! the God has +now passed through the gates.” + +Rameri stepped out into the balcony, and the two women followed him, and +looked down on the scene of the embarkation which they could easily see +with their sharp young eyes. + +“It will be a thinner and poorer procession without either my father or +us, that is one comfort,” said Rameri. “The chorus is magnificent; here +come the plume-bearers and singers; there is the chief prophet at the +great temple, old Bek-en-Chunsu. How dignified he looks, but he will not +like going. Now the God is coming, for I, smell the incense.” + +With these words the prince fell on his knees, and the women followed +his example--when they saw first a noble bull in whose shining skin the +sun was reflected, and who bore between his horns a golden disk, above +which stood white ostrich-feathers; and then, divided from the bull only +by a few fan-bearers, the God himself, sometimes visible, but more often +hidden from sight by great semi-circular screens of black and white +ostrich-feathers, which were fixed on long poles, and with which the +priests shaded the God. + +His mode of progress was as mysterious as his name, for he seemed to +float slowly on his gorgeous throne from the temple-gates towards the +stream. His seat was placed on a platform, magnificently decorated with +bunches and garlands of flowers, and covered with hangings of purple and +gold brocade, which concealed the priests who bore it along with a slow +and even pace. + +As soon as the God had been placed on board his barge, Bent-Anat and her +companions rose from their knees. + +Then came some priests, who carried a box with the sacred evergreen tree +of Amon; and when a fresh outburst of music fell on her ear, and a cloud +of incense was wafted up to her, Bent-Anat said: “Now my father should +be coming.” + +“And you,” cried Rameri, “and close behind, Nefert’s husband, Mena, +with the guards. Uncle Ani comes on foot. How strangely he has dressed +himself like a sphinx hind-part before!” + +“How so?” asked Nefert. + +“A sphinx,” said Rameri laughing, it has the body of a lion, and the +head of a man, + + [There were no female sphinxes in Egypt. The sphinx was called Neb, + i. e., the lord. The lion-couchant had either a man’s or a rams + head.] + +and my uncle has a peaceful priest’s robe, and on his head the helmet of +a warrior.” + +“If the king were here, the distributor of life,” said Nefert, “you +would not be missing from among his supporters.” + +“No indeed!” replied the prince, “and the whole thing is altogether +different when my father is here. His heroic form is splendid on his +golden throne; the statues of Truth and justice spread their wings +behind him as if to protect him; his mighty representative in fight, the +lion, lies peacefully before him, and over him spreads the canopy with +the Urmus snake at the top. There is hardly any end to the haruspices, +the pastophori with the standards, the images of the Gods, and the +flocks and herds for sacrifice. Only think, even the North has sent +representatives to the feast, as if my father were here. I know all the +different signs on the standards. Do you recognize the images of the +king’s ancestors, Nefert? No? no more do I; but it seemed to me that +Ahmes I., who expelled the Hyksos--from whom our grandmother was +descended--headed the procession, and not my grandfather Seti, as he +should have done. Here come the soldiers; they are the legions which Ani +equipped, and who returned victorious from Ethiopia only last night. +How the people cheer them! and indeed they have behaved valiantly. Only +think, Bent-Anat and Nefert, what it will be when my father comes home, +with a hundred captive princes, who will humbly follow his chariot, +which your Mena will drive, with our brothers and all the nobles of the +land, and the guards in their splendid chariots.” + +“They do not think of returning yet!” sighed Nefert. While more and more +troops of the Regent’s soldiers, more companies of musicians, and rare +animals, followed in procession, the festal bark of Amon started from +the shore. + +It was a large and gorgeous barge of wood, polished all over and +overlaid with gold, and its edge was decorated with glittering +glass-beads, which imitated rubies and emeralds; the masts and yards +were gilt, and purple sails floated from them. The seats for the priests +were of ivory, and garlands of lilies and roses hung round the vessel, +from its masts and ropes. + +The Regent’s Nile-boat was not less splendid; the wood-work shone +with gilding, the cabin was furnished with gay Babylonian carpets; a +lion’s-head formed the prow, as formerly in Hatasu’s sea-going vessels, +and two large rubies shone in it, for eyes. After the priests had +embarked, and the sacred barge had reached the opposite shore, the +people pressed into the boats, which, filled almost to sinking, soon +so covered the whole breadth of the river that there was hardly a spot +where the sun was mirrored in the yellow waters. + +“Now I will put on the dress of a gardener,” cried Rameri, “and cross +over with the wreaths.” + +“You will leave us alone?” asked Bent-Anat. + +“Do not make me anxious,” said Rameri. + +“Go then,” said the princess. “If my father were here how willingly I +would go too.” + +“Come with me,” cried the boy. “We can easily find a disguise for you +too.” + +“Folly!” said Bent-Anat; but she looked enquiringly at Nefert, who +shrugged her shoulders, as much as to say: “Your will is my law.” + +Rameri was too sharp for the glances of the friends to have escaped him, +and he exclaimed eagerly: + +“You will come with me, I see you will! Every beggar to-day flings his +flower into the common grave, which contains the black mummy of his +father--and shall the daughter of Rameses, and the wife of the chief +charioteer, be excluded from bringing garlands to their dead?” + +“I shall defile the tomb by my presence,” said Bent-Anat coloring. + +“You--you!” exclaimed Rameri, throwing his arms round his sister’s neck, +and kissing her. “You, a noble generous creature, who live only to +ease sorrow and to wipe away tears; you, the very image of my +father--unclean! sooner would I believe that the swans down there are +as black as crows, and the rose-wreaths on the balcony rank hemlock +branches. Bek-en-Chunsu pronounced you clean, and if Ameni--” + +“Ameni only exercises his rights,” said Bent-Anat gently, “and you know +what we have resolved. I will not hear one hard word about him to-day.” + +“Very well! he has graciously and mercifully kept us from the feast,” + said Rameri ironically, and he bowed low in the direction of the +Necropolis, “and you are unclean. Do not enter the tombs and the temples +on my account; let us stay outside among the people. The roads over +there are not so very sensitive; paraschites and other unclean folks +pass over them every day. Be sensible, Bent-Anat, and come. We will +disguise ourselves; I will conduct you; I will lay the garlands in the +tombs, we will pray together outside, we will see the sacred procession +and the feats of the magicians, and hear the festive discourse. Only +think! Pentaur, in spite of all they have said against him, is to +deliver it. The temple of Seti wants to do its best to-day, and Ameni +knows very well that Pentaur, when he opens his mouth, stirs the hearts +of the people more than all the sages together if they were to sing in +chorus! Come with me, sister.” + +“So be it then,” said Bent-Anat with sudden decision. + +Rameri was surprised at this quick resolve, at which however he was +delighted; but Nefert looked anxiously at her friend. In a moment +her eyes fell; she knew now who it was that her friend loved, and the +fearful thought--“How will it end?” flashed through her mind. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +An hour later a tall, plainly dressed woman crossed the Nile, with a +dark-skinned boy and a slender youth by her side. The wrinkles on her +brow and cheeks agreed little with her youthful features; but it would +have been difficult to recognize in these three the proud princess, the +fair young prince, and the graceful Nefert, who looked as charming as +ever in the long white robe of a temple-student. + +They were followed by two faithful and sturdy head-servants from among +the litter-bearers of the princess, who were however commanded to appear +as though they were not in any way connected with their mistress and her +companions. + +The passage across the Nile had been accomplished but slowly, and thus +the royal personages had experienced for the first time some of the many +difficulties and delays which ordinary mortals must conquer to attain +objects which almost fly to meet their rulers. No one preceded them to +clear the river, no other vessel made way for them; on the contrary, +all tried to take place ahead of them, and to reach the opposite shore +before them. + +When at last they reached the landing-place, the procession had already +passed on to the temple of Seti; Ameni had met it with his chorus of +singers, and had received the God on the shore of the Nile; the prophets +of the Necropolis had with their own hands placed him in the sacred +Sam-bark of the House of Seti, which was artistically constructed of +cedar wood and electrum set with jewels; thirty pastophori took the +precious burden on their shoulders, and bore it up the avenue of +Sphinxes--which led from the river to the temple--into the sanctuary +of Seti, where Amon remained while the emissaries from the different +provinces deposited their offerings in the forecourt. On his road from +the shore kolchytes had run before him, in accordance with ancient +custom, strewing sand in his path. + +In the course of an hour the procession once more emerged into the open +air, and turning to the south, rested first in the enormous temple +of Anienophis III., in front of which the two giant statues stood as +sentinels--they still remain, the colossi of the Nile valley. Farther +to the south it reached the temple of Thotmes the Great, then, turning +round, it clung to the eastern face of the Libyan hills--pierced with +tombs and catacombs; it mounted the terraces of the temple of Hatasu, +and paused by the tombs of the oldest kings which are in the immediate +neighborhood; thus by sunset it had reached the scene of the festival +itself, at the entrance of the valley in which the tomb of Setitt had +been made, and in whose westernmost recesses were some of the graves of +the Pharaohs of the deposed race. + +This part of the Necropolis was usually visited by lamp-light, and under +the flare of torches, before the return of the God to his own temple and +the mystery-play on the sacred lake, which did not begin till midnight. + +Behind the God, in a vase of transparent crystal, and borne high on a +pole that all the multitude might see it, was the heart of the sacred +ram. + +Our friends, after they had laid their wreaths on the magnificent altars +of their royal ancestors without being recognized, late in the afternoon +joined the throng who followed the procession. They mounted the eastern +cliff of the hills close by the tomb of Mena’s forefathers, which +a prophet of Amon, named Neferhotep--Mena’s great-grandfather--had +constructed. Its narrow doorway was besieged by a crowd, for within the +first of the rock-chambers of which it consisted, a harper was singing +a dirge for the long-since buried prophet, his wife and his sister. The +song had been composed by the poet attached to his house; it was graven +in the stone of the second rock-room of the tomb, and Neferhotep had +left a plot of ground in trust to the Necropolis, with the charge of +administering its revenues for the payment of a minstrel, who every-year +at the feast of the dead should sing the monody to the accompaniment of +his lute. + + [The tomb of Neferhotep is well preserved, and in it the inscription + from which the monody is translated.] + +The charioteer well knew this dirge for his ancestor, and had often sung +it to Nefert, who had accompanied him on her lute; for in their hours +of joy also--nay especially--the Egyptians were wont to remember their +dead. + +Now the three companions listened to the minstrel as he sang: + + “Now the great man is at rest, + Gone to practise sweeter duties. + Those that die are the elect + Since the Gods have left the earth. + Old men pass and young men come; + Yea, a new Sun rises daily + When the old sun has found rest + In the bosom of the night. + + “Hail, O Prophet! on this feast day + Odorous balsams, fragrant resins + Here we bring--and offer garlands, + Throwing flowers down before thee, + And before thy much-loved sister, + Who has found her rest beside thee. + + “Songs we sing, and strike the lyre + To thy memory, and thine honor. + All our cares are now forgotten, + Joy and hope our breasts are filling; + For the day of our departure + Now draws near, and in the silence + Of the farther shore is rest.” + +When the song ceased, several people pressed into the little oratory to +express their gratitude to the deceased prophet by laying a few flowers +on his altar. Nefert and Rameri also went in, and when Nefert had +offered a long and silent prayer to the glorified spirits of her dead, +that they might watch over Mena, she laid her garland beside the grave +in which her husband’s mother rested. + +Many members of the court circle passed close to the royal party without +recognizing them; they made every effort to reach the scene of the +festival, but the crowd was so great that the ladies had several times +to get into a tomb to avoid it. In each they found the altar loaded with +offerings, and, in most, family-parties, who here remembered their +dead, with meat and fruits, beer and wine, as though they were departed +travellers who had found some far off rest, and whom they hoped sooner +or later to see again. + +The sun was near setting when at last the princess and her companions +reached the spot where the feast was being held. Here stood numbers of +stalls and booths, with eatables of every sort, particularly sweet cakes +for the children, dates, figs, pomegranates, and other fruits. Under +light awnings, which kept off the sun, were sold sandals and kerchiefs +of every material and hue, ornaments, amulets, fans, and sun-shades, +sweet essences of every kind, and other gifts for offerings or for +the toilet. The baskets of the gardeners and flower-girls were already +empty, but the money-changers were full of business, and the tavern and +gambling booths were driving a brisk trade. + +Friends and acquaintances greeted each other kindly, while the children +showed each other their new sandals, the cakes they had won at the +games, or the little copper rings they had had given to them, and +which must now be laid out. The largest crowd was gathered to see the +magicians from the House of Seti, round which the mob squatted on the +ground in a compact circle, and the children were good-naturedly placed +in the front row. + +When Bent-Anat reached the place all the religious solemnity was ended. + +There stood the canopy under which the king and his family were used +to listen to the festal discourse, and under its shade sat to-day +the Regent Ani. They could see too the seats of the grandees, and +the barriers which kept the people at a distance from the Regent, the +priests, and the nobles. + +Here Ameni himself had announced to the multitude the miracle of the +sacred heart, and had proclaimed that a new Apis had been found among +the herds of the Regent Ani. + +His announcement of these divine tokens had been repeated from mouth to +mouth; they were omens of peace and happiness for the country through +the means of a favorite of the Gods; and though no one said it, the +dullest could not fail to see that this favorite was none other than +Ani, the descendant of the great Hatasu, whose prophet had been graced +by the transfer to him of the heart of the sacred rain. All eyes were +fixed on Ani, who had sacrificed before all the people to the sacred +heart, and received the high-priest’s blessing. + +Pentaur, too, had ended his discourse when Bent-Anat reached the scene +of the festival. She heard an old man say to his son: + +“Life is hard. It often seems to me like a heavy burden laid on our +poor backs by the cruel Gods; but when I heard the young priest from the +House of Seti, I felt that, after all, the Immortals are good, and we +have much to thank them for.” + +In another place a priest’s wife said to her son: + +“Could you see Pentaur well, Hor-Uza? He is of humble birth, but he +stands above the greatest in genius and gifts, and will rise to high +things.” + +Two girls were speaking together, and one said to the other: + +“The speaker is the handsomest man I ever saw, and his voice sounds like +soft music.” + +“And how his eyes shone when he spoke of truth as the highest of all +virtues!” replied the other. “All the Gods, I believe, must dwell in +him.” + +Bent-Anat colored as these words fell on her ear. It was growing dark, +and she wished to return home but Rameri wished to follow the procession +as it marched through the western valley by torch-light, so that the +grave of his grandfather Seti should also be visited. The princess +unwillingly yielded, but it would in any case have been difficult to +reach the river while every one was rushing in the opposite direction; +so the two ladies, and Rameri, let themselves be carried along by the +crowd, and by the time the daylight was gone, they found themselves +in the western valley, where to-night no beasts of prey dared show +themselves; jackals and hyenas had fled before the glare of the torches, +and the lanterns made of colored papyrus. + +The smoke of the torches mingled with the dust stirred by a thousand +feet, and the procession moved along, as it were, in a cloud, which also +shrouded the multitude that followed. + +The three companions had labored on as far as the hovel of the +paraschites Pinem, but here they were forced to pause, for guards +drove back the crowd to the right and left with long staves, to clear a +passage for the procession as it approached. + +“See, Rameri,” said Bent-Anat, pointing out the little yard of the hut +which stood only a few paces from them. “That is where the fair, white +girl lives, whom I ran over. But she is much better. Turn round; there, +behind the thorn-hedge, by the little fire which shines full in your +(her? D.W.) face--there she sits, with her grandfather.” + +The prince stood on tip-toe, looked into the humble plot of ground, and +then said in a subdued voice “What a lovely creature! But what is she +doing with the old man? He seems to be praying, and she first holds +a handkerchief before his mouth, and then rubs his temples. And how +unhappy she looks!” + +“The paraschites must be ill,” replied Bent-Anat. “He must have had too +much wine down at the feast,” said Rameri laughing. “No doubt of it! +Only look how his lips tremble, and his eyes roll. It is hideous--he +looks like one possessed.” + + [It was thought that the insane were possessed by demons. A stele + admirably treated by F. de Rouge exists at Paris, which relates + that the sister-in law of Rameses III., who was possessed by devils, + had them driven out by the statue of Chunsu, which was sent to her + in Asia.] + +“He is unclean too!” said Nefert. + +“But he is a good, kind man, with a tender heart,” exclaimed the +princess eagerly. “I have enquired about him. He is honest and sober, +and I am sure he is ill and not drunk.” + +“Now she is standing up,” said Rameri, and he dropped the paper-lantern +which he had bought at a booth. “Step back, Bent-Anat, she must be +expecting some one. Did you ever see any one so very fair, and with such +a pretty little head. Even her red hair becomes her wonderfully; but +she staggers as she stands--she must be very weak. Now she has sat down +again by the old man, and is rubbing his forehead. Poor souls! look how +she is sobbing. I will throw my purse over to them.” + +“No, no!” exclaimed Bent-Anat. “I gave them plenty of money, and the +tears which are shed there cannot be staunched with gold. I will send +old Asnath over to-morrow to ask how we can help them. Look, here comes +the procession, Nefert. How rudely the people press! As soon as the God +is gone by we will go home.” + +“Pray do,” said Nefert. “I am so frightened!” and she pressed trembling +to the side of the princess. + +“I wish we were at home, too,” replied Bent-Anat. + +“Only look!” said Rameri. “There they are. Is it not splendid? And how +the heart shines, as if it were a star!” + +All the crowd, and with them our three friends, fell on their knees. + +The procession paused opposite to them, as it did at every thousand +paces; a herald came forward, and glorified, in a loud voice, the great +miracle, to which now another was added--the sacred heart since the +night had come on had begun to give out light. + +Since his return home from the embalming house, the paraschites had +taken no nourishment, and had not answered a word to the anxious +questions of the two frightened women. He stared blindly, muttered a few +unintelligible words, and often clasped his forehead in his hand. A few +hours before he had laughed loud and suddenly, and his wife, greatly +alarmed, had gone at once to fetch the physician Nebsecht. + +During her absence Uarda was to rub her grandfather’s temples with the +leaves which the witch Hekt had laid on her bruises, for as they had +once proved efficacious they might perhaps a second time scare away the +demon of sickness. + +When the procession, with its thousand lamps and torches, paused before +the hovel, which was almost invisible in the dusk, and one citizen said +to another: “Here comes the sacred heart!” the old man started, and +stood up. His eyes stared fixedly at the gleaming relic in its crystal +case; slowly, trembling in every limb, and with outstretched neck he +stood up. + +The herald began his eulogy of the miracle. + +Then, while all the people were prostrate in adoration, listening +motionless to the loud voice of the speaker, the paraschites rushed +out of his gate, striking his forehead with his fists, and opposite the +sacred heart, he broke out into a mad, loud fit of scornful laughter, +which re-echoed from the bare cliffs that closed in the valley. + +Horror full on the crowd, who rose timidly from their knees. + +Ameni, who too, was close behind the heart, started too and looked round +on the author of this hideous laugh. He had never seen the paraschites, +but he perceived the glimmer of his little fire through the dust and +gloom, and he knew that he lived in this place. The whole case struck +him at once; he whispered a few significant words to one of the officers +who marched with the troops on each side of the procession; then he gave +the signal, and the procession moved on as if nothing had happened. + +The old man tried with still more loud and crazy laughter to reach and +seize the heart, but the crowd kept him back; and while the last groups +passed on after the priests, he contrived to slip back as far as the +door of his hovel, though much damaged and hurt. + +There he fell, and Uarda rushed out and threw herself over the old man, +who lay on the earth, scarcely recognizable in the dust and darkness. + +“Crush the scoffer!” + +“Tear him in pieces!” + +“Burn down the foul den!” + +“Throw him and the wench into the fire!” shouted the people who had been +disturbed in their devotions, with wild fury. + +Two old women snatched the lanterns froth the posts, and flung them at +the unfortunate creatures, while an Ethiopian soldier seized Uarda by +the hair, and tore her away from her grandfather. + +At this moment Pinem’s wife appeared, and with her Pentaur. She had +found not Nebsecht, but Pentaur, who had returned to the temple after +his speech. She had told him of the demon who had fallen upon her +husband, and implored him to come with her. Pentaur immediately followed +her in his working dress, just as he was, without putting on the white +priest’s robe, which he did not wish to wear on this expedition. + +When they drew near to the paraschites’ hovel, he perceived the tumult +among the people, and, loud above all the noise, heard Uarda’s shrill +cry of terror. He hurried forward, and in the dull light of the +scattered fire-brands and colored lanterns, he saw the black hand of the +soldier clutching the hair of the helpless child; quick as thought he +gripped the soldier’s throat with his iron fingers, seized him round the +body, swung him in the air, and flung him like a block of stone right +into the little yard of the hut. + +The people threw themselves on the champion in a frenzy of rage, but he +felt a sudden warlike impulse surging up in him, which he had never +felt before. With one wrench he pulled out the heavy wooden pole, which +supported the awning which the old paraschites had put up for his sick +grandchild; he swung it round his head, as if it were a reed, driving +back the crowd, while he called to Uarda to keep close to him. + +“He who touches the child is a dead man!” he cried. “Shame on +you!--falling on a feeble old man and a helpless child in the middle of +a holy festival!” + +For a moment the crowd was silent, but immediately after rushed forward +with fresh impetus, and wilder than ever rose the shouts of: + +“Tear him to pieces! burn his house down!” + +A few artisans from Thebes closed round the poet, who was not +recognizable as a priest. He, however, wielding his tent-pole, felled +them before they could reach him with their fists or cudgels, and down +went every man on whom it fell. But the struggle could not last long, +for some of his assailants sprang over the fence, and attacked him in +the rear. And now Pentaur was distinctly visible against a background of +flaring light, for some fire-brands had fallen on the dry palm-thatch of +the hovel behind him, and roaring flames rose up to the dark heavens. + +The poet heard the threatening blaze behind him. He put his left hand +round the head of the trembling girl, who crouched beside him, and +feeling that now they both were lost, but that to his latest breath he +must protect the innocence and life of this frail creature, with his +right hand he once more desperately swung the heavy stake. + +But it was for the last time; for two men succeeded in clutching the +weapon, others came to their support, and wrenched it from his hand, +while the mob closed upon him, furious but unarmed, and not without +great fear of the enormous strength of their opponent. + +Uarda clung to her protector with shortened breath, and trembling like +a hunted antelope. Pentaur groaned when he felt himself disarmed, but +at that instant a youth stood by his side, as if he had sprung from the +earth, who put into his hand the sword of the fallen soldier--who lay +near his feet--and who then, leaning his back against Pentaur’s, faced +the foe on the other side. Pentaur pulled himself together, sent out a +battle-cry like some fighting hero who is defending his last stronghold, +and brandished his new weapon. He stood with flaming eyes, like a lion +at bay, and for a moment the enemy gave way, for his young ally Rameri, +had taken a hatchet, and held it up in a threatening manner. + +“The cowardly murderers are flinging fire-brands,” cried the prince. +“Come here, girl, and I will put out the pitch on your dress.” + +He seized Uarda’s hand, drew her to him, and hastily put out the flame, +while Pentaur protected them with his sword. + +The prince and the poet stood thus back to back for a few moments, when +a stone struck Pentaur’s head; he staggered, and the crowd were rushing +upon him, when the little fence was torn away by a determined hand, +a tall womanly form appeared on the scene of combat, and cried to the +astonished mob: + +“Have done with this! I command you! I am Bent-Anat, the daughter of +Rameses.” + +The angry crowd gave way in sheer astonishment. Pentaur had recovered +from the stunning blow, but he thought he must be under some illusion. +He felt as if he must throw himself on his knees before Bent-Anat, but +his mind had been trained under Ameni to rapid reflection; he realized, +in a flash of thought, the princess’s position, and instead of bowing +before her he exclaimed: + +“Whoever this woman may be, good folks, she is not Bent-Anat the +princess, but I, though I have no white robe on, am a priest of Seti, +named Pentaur, and the Cherheb of to-day’s festival. Leave this spot, +woman, I command you, in right of my sacred office.” + +And Bent-Anat obeyed. + +Pentaur was saved; for just as the people began to recover from their +astonishment just as those whom he had hurt were once more inciting the +mob to fight just as a boy, whose hand he had crushed, was crying out: +“He is not a priest, he is a sword’s-man. Down with the liar!” + +A voice from the crowd exclaimed: + +“Make way for my white robe, and leave the preacher Pentaur alone, he is +my friend. You most of you know me.” + +“You are Nebsecht the leech, who set my broken leg,” cried a sailor. + +“And cured my bad eye,” said a weaver. + +“That tall handsome man is Pentaur, I know him well,” cried the girl, +whose opinion had been overheard by Bent-Anat. + +“Preacher this, preacher that!” shouted the boy, and he would have +rushed forward, but the people held him back, and divided respectfully +at Nebsecht’s command to make way for him to get at those who had been +hurt. + +First he stooped over the old paraschites. + +“Shame upon you!” he exclaimed.--“You have killed the old man.” + +“And I,” said Pentaur, “Have dipped my peaceful hand in blood to save +his innocent and suffering grandchild from a like fate.” + +“Scorpions, vipers, venomous reptiles, scum of men!” shrieked Nebsecht, +and he sprang wildly forward, seeking Uarda. When he saw her sitting +safe at the feet of old Hekt, who had made her way into the courtyard, +he drew a deep breath of relief, and turned his attention to the +wounded. + +“Did you knock down all that are lying here?” he whispered to his +friend. + +Pentaur nodded assent and smiled; but not in triumph, rather in shame; +like a boy, who has unintentionally squeezed to death in his hand a bird +he has caught. + +Nebsecht looked round astonished and anxious. “Why did you not say who +you were?” he asked. “Because the spirit of the God Menth possessed me,” + answered Pentaur. “When I saw that accursed villain there with his hand +in the girl’s hair, I heard and saw nothing, I--” + +“You did right,” interrupted Nebsecht. “But where will all this end?” + +At this moment a flourish of trumpets rang through the little valley. +The officer sent by Ameni to apprehend the paraschites came up with his +soldiers. + +Before he entered the court-yard he ordered the crowd to disperse; the +refractory were driven away by force, and in a few minutes the valley +was cleared of the howling and shouting mob, and the burning house was +surrounded by soldiers. Bent-Anat, Rameri, and Nefert were obliged to +quit their places by the fence; Rameri, so soon as he saw that Uarda was +safe, had rejoined his sister. + +Nefert was almost fainting with fear and excitement. The two servants, +who had kept near them, knit their hands together, and thus carried +her in advance of the princess. Not one of them spoke a word, not even +Rameri, who could not forget Uarda, and the look of gratitude she bid +sent after him. Once only Bent-Anat said: + +“The hovel is burnt down. Where will the poor souls sleep to-night?” + +When the valley was clear, the officer entered the yard, and found +there, besides Uarda and the witch Hekt, the poet, and Nebsecht, who was +engaged in tending the wounded. + +Pentaur shortly narrated the affair to the captain, and named himself to +him. + +The soldier offered him his hand. + +“If there were many men in Rameses’ army,” said he, “who could strike +such a blow as you, the war with the Cheta would soon be at an end. But +you have struck down, not Asiatics, but citizens of Thebes, and, much as +I regret it, I must take you as a prisoner to Ameni.” + +“You only do your duty,” replied Pentaur, bowing to the captain, who +ordered his men to take up the body of the paraschites, and to bear it +to the temple of Seti. + +“I ought to take the girl in charge too,” he added, turning to Pentaur. + +“She is ill,” replied the poet. + +“And if she does not get some rest,” added Nebsecht, “she will be dead. +Leave her alone; she is under the particular protection of the princess +Bent-Anat, who ran over her not long ago.” + +“I will take her into my house,” said Hekt, “and will take care of her. +Her grandmother is lying there; she was half choked by the flames, but +she will soon come to herself--and I have room for both.” + +“Till to-morrow,” replied the surgeon. “Then I will provide another +shelter for her.” + +The old woman laughed and muttered: “There are plenty of folks to take +care of her, it seems.” + +The soldiers obeyed the command of their leader, took up the wounded, +and went away with Pentaur, and the body of Pinem. + +Meanwhile, Bent-Anat and her party had with much difficulty reached +the river-bank. One of the bearers was sent to find the boat which was +waiting for them, and he was enjoined to make haste, for already they +could see the approach of the procession, which escorted the God on his +return journey. If they could not succeed in finding their boat without +delay, they must wait at least an hour, for, at night, not a boat +that did not belong to the train of Amon--not even the barge of a +noble--might venture from shore till the whole procession was safe +across. + +They awaited the messenger’s signal in the greatest anxiety, for Nefert +was perfectly exhausted, and Bent-Anat, on whom she leaned, felt her +trembling in every limb. + +At last the bearer gave the signal; the swift, almost invisible bark, +which was generally used for wild fowl shooting, shot by--Rameri seized +one end of an oar that the rower held out to him, and drew the little +boat up to the landing-place. + +The captain of the watch passed at the same moment, and shouting out, +“This is the last boat that can put off before the passage of the God!” + +Bent-Anat descended the steps as quickly as Nefert’s exhausted state +permitted. The landing-place was now only dimly lighted by dull +lanterns, though, when the God embarked, it would be as light as day +with cressets and torches. Before she could reach the bottom step, with +Nefert still clinging heavily to her arm, a hard hand was laid on her +shoulder, and the rough voice of Paaker exclaimed: + +“Stand back, you rabble! We are going first.” The captain of the watch +did not stop him, for he knew the chief pioneer and his overbearing +ways. Paaker put his finger to his lips, and gave a shrill whistle that +sounded like a yell in the silence. + +The stroke of oars responded to the call, and Paaker called out to his +boatmen: + +“Bring the boat up here! these people can wait!” The pioneer’s boat was +larger and better manned than that of the princess. + +“Jump into the boat!” cried Rameri. + +Bent-Anat went forward without speaking, for she did not wish to make +herself known again for the sake of the people, and for Nefert’s; but +Paaker put himself in her way. + +“Did I not tell you that you common people must wait till we are gone. +Push these people’s boat out into the stream, you men.” + +Bent-Anat felt her blood chill, for a loud squabble at once began on the +landing-steps. + +Rameri’s voice sounded louder than all the rest; but the pioneer +exclaimed: + +“The low brutes dare to resist? I will teach them manners! Here, +Descher, look after the woman and these boys!” + +At his call his great red hound barked and sprang forward, which, as it +had belonged to his father, always accompanied him when he went with his +mother to visit the ancestral tomb. Nefert shrieked with fright, but +the dog at once knew her, and crouched against her with whines of +recognition. + +Paaker, who had gone down to his boat, turned round in astonishment, +and saw his dog fawning at the feet of a boy whom he could not possibly +recognize as Nefert; he sprang back, and cried out: + +“I will teach you, you young scoundrel, to spoil my dog with spells--or +poison!” + +He raised his whip, and struck it across the shoulders of Nefert, who, +with one scream of terror and anguish, fell to the ground. + +The lash of the whip only whistled close by the cheek of the poor +fainting woman, for Bent-Anat had seized Paaker’s arm with all her +might. + +Rage, disgust, and scorn stopped her utterance; but Rameri had heard +Nefert’s shriek, and in two steps stood by the women. + +“Cowardly scoundrel!” he cried, and lifted the oar in his hand. Paaker +evaded the blow, and called to the dog with a peculiar hiss: + +“Pull him down, Descher.” + +The hound flew at the prince; but Rameri, who from his childhood, had +been his father’s companion in many hunts and field sports, gave the +furious brute such a mighty blow on the muzzle that he rolled over with +a snort. + +Paaker believed that he possessed in the whole world no more faithful +friend than this dog, his companion on all his marches across desert +tracts or through the enemy’s country, and when he saw him writhing on +the ground his rage knew no bounds, and he flew at the youngster with +his whip; but Rameri--madly excited by all the events of the night, full +of the warlike spirit of his fathers, worked up to the highest pitch +by the insults to the two ladies, and seeing that he was their only +protector--suddenly felt himself endowed with the strength of a man; he +dealt the pioneer such a heavy blow on the left hand, that he dropped +his whip, and now seized the dagger in his girdle with his right. + +Bent-Anat threw herself between the man and the stripling, who was +hardly more than a boy, once more declared her name, and this time her +brother’s also, and commanded Paaker to make peace among the boatmen. +Then she led Nefert, who remained unrecognized, into the boat, entered +it herself with her companions, and shortly after landed at the palace, +while Paaker’s mother, for whom he had called his boat, had yet a long +time to wait before it could start. Setchem had seen the struggle from +her litter at the top of the landing steps, but without understanding +its origin, and without recognizing the chief actors. + +The dog was dead. Paaker’s hand was very painful, and fresh rage was +seething in his soul. + +“That brood of Rameses!” he muttered. “Adventurers! They shall learn to +know me. Mena and Rameses are closely connected--I will sacrifice them +both.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +At last the pioneer’s boat got off with his mother and the body of the +dog, which he intended to send to be embalmed at Kynopolis, the city in +which the dog was held sacred above all animals; + + [Kynopolis, or in old Egyptian Saka, is now Samalut; Anubis was the + chief divinity worshipped there. Plutarch relates a quarrel between + the inhabitants of this city, and the neighboring one of Oxyrynchos, + where the fish called Oxyrynchos was worshipped. It began because + the Kynopolitans eat the fish, and in revenge the Oxyrynchites + caught and killed dogs, and consumed them in sacrifices. Juvenal + relates a similar story of the Ombites--perhaps Koptites--and + Pentyrites in the 15th Satire.] + +Paaker himself returned to the House of Seti, where, in the night which +closed the feast day, there was always a grand banquet for the superior +priests of the Necropolis and of the temples of eastern Thebes, for the +representatives of other foundations, and for select dignitaries of the +state. + +His father had never failed to attend this entertainment when he was +in Thebes, but he himself had to-day for the first time received the +much-coveted honor of an invitation, which--Ameni told him when he gave +it--he entirely owed to the Regent. + +His mother had tied up his hand, which Rameri had severely hurt; it was +extremely painful, but he would not have missed the banquet at any cost, +although he felt some alarm of the solemn ceremony. His family was as +old as any in Egypt, his blood purer than the king’s, and nevertheless +he never felt thoroughly at home in the company of superior people. He +was no priest, although a scribe; he was a warrior, and yet he did not +rank with royal heroes. + +He had been brought up to a strict fulfilment of his duty, and he +devoted himself zealously to his calling; but his habits of life were +widely different from those of the society in which he had been brought +up--a society of which his handsome, brave, and magnanimous father had +been a chief ornament. He did not cling covetously to his inherited +wealth, and the noble attribute of liberality was not strange to him, +but the coarseness of his nature showed itself most when he was most +lavish, for he was never tired of exacting gratitude from those whom he +had attached to him by his gifts, and he thought he had earned the right +by his liberality to meet the recipient with roughness or arrogance, +according to his humor. Thus it happened that his best actions procured +him not friends but enemies. + +Paaker’s was, in fact, an ignoble, that is to say, a selfish nature; to +shorten his road he trod down flowers as readily as he marched over the +sand of the desert. This characteristic marked him in all things, +even in his outward demeanor; in the sound of his voice, in his broad +features, in the swaggering gait of his stumpy figure. + +In camp he could conduct himself as he pleased; but this was not +permissible in the society of his equals in rank; for this reason, +and because those faculties of quick remark and repartee, which +distinguished them, had been denied to him, he felt uneasy and out of +his element when he mixed with them, and he would hardly have accepted +Ameni’s invitation, if it had not so greatly flattered his vanity. + +It was already late; but the banquet did not begin till midnight, for +the guests, before it began, assisted at the play which was performed by +lamp and torch-light on the sacred lake in the south of the Necropolis, +and which represented the history of Isis and Osiris. + +When he entered the decorated hall in which the tables were prepared, he +found all the guests assembled. The Regent Ani was present, and sat +on Ameni’s right at the top of the centre high-table at which several +places were unoccupied; for the prophets and the initiated of the temple +of Amon had excused themselves from being present. They were faithful to +Rameses and his house; their grey-haired Superior disapproved of Ameni’s +severity towards the prince and princess, and they regarded the miracle +of the sacred heart as a malicious trick of the chiefs of the Necropolis +against the great temple of the capital for which Rameses had always +shown a preference. + +The pioneer went up to the table, where sat the general of the troops +that had just returned victorious from Ethiopia, and several other +officers of high rank, There was a place vacant next to the general. +Paaker fixed his eyes upon this, but when he observed that the officer +signed to the one next to him to come a little nearer, the pioneer +imagined that each would endeavor to avoid having him for his neighbor, +and with an angry glance he turned his back on the table where the +warriors sat. + +The Mohar was not, in fact, a welcome boon-companion. “The wine turns +sour when that churl looks at it,” said the general. + +The eyes of all the guests turned on Paaker, who looked round for a +seat, and when no one beckoned him to one he felt his blood begin to +boil. He would have liked to leave the banqueting hall at once with a +swingeing curse. He had indeed turned towards the door, when the Regent, +who had exchanged a few whispered words with Ameni, called to him, +requested him to take the place that had been reserved for him, and +pointed to the seat by his side, which had in fact been intended for the +high-priest of the temple of Amon. + +Paaker bowed low, and took the place of honor, hardly daring to look +round the table, lest he should encounter looks of surprise or of +mockery. And yet he had pictured to himself his grandfather Assa, and +his father, as somewhere near this place of honor, which had actually +often enough been given up to them. And was he not their descendant and +heir? Was not his mother Setchem of royal race? Was not the temple of +Seti more indebted to him than to any one? + +A servant laid a garland of flowers round his shoulders, and another +handed him wine and food. Then he raised his eyes, and met the bright +and sparkling glance of Gagabu; he looked quickly down again at the +table. + +Then the Regent spoke to him, and turning to the other guests mentioned +that Paaker was on the point of starting next day for Syria, and +resuming his arduous labors as Mohar. It seemed to Paaker that the +Regent was excusing himself for having given him so high a place of +honor. + +Presently Ani raised his wine-cup, and drank to the happy issue of his +reconnoitring-expedition, and a victorious conclusion to every struggle +in which the Mohar might engage. The high-priest then pledged him, and +thanked him emphatically in the name of the brethren of the temple, for +the noble tract of arable land which he had that morning given them as +a votive offering. A murmur of approbation ran round the tables, and +Paaker’s timidity began to diminish. + +He had kept the wrappings that his mother had applied round his still +aching hand. + +“Are you wounded?” asked the Regent. + +“Nothing of importance,” answered the pioneer. “I was helping my mother +into the boat, and it happened--” + +“It happened,” interrupted an old school-fellow of the Mohar’s, +who himself held a high appointment as officer of the city-watch of +Thebes--“It happened that an oar or a stake fell on his fingers.” + +“Is it possible!” cried the Regent. + +“And quite a youngster laid hands on him,” continued the officer. “My +people told me every detail. First the boy killed his dog--” + +“That noble Descher?” asked the master of the hunt in a tone of regret. +“Your father was often by my side with that dog at a boar-hunt.” + +Paaker bowed his head; but the officer of the watch, secure in his +position and dignity, and taking no notice of the glow of anger which +flushed Paaker’s face, began again: + +“When the hound lay on the ground, the foolhardy boy struck your dagger +out of your hand.” + +“And did this squabble lead to any disturbance?” asked Ameni earnestly. + +“No,” replied the officer. “The feast has passed off to-day with unusual +quiet. If the unlucky interruption to the procession by that crazy +paraschites had not occurred, we should have nothing but praise for the +populace. Besides the fighting priest, whom we have handed over to you, +only a few thieves have been apprehended, and they belong exclusively to +the caste, + + [According to Diodorous (I. 80) there was a cast of thieves in + Thebes. All citizens were obliged to enter their names in a + register, and state where they lived, and the thieves did the same. + The names were enrolled by the “chief of the thieves,” and all + stolen goods had to be given up to him. The person robbed had to + give a written description of the object he had lost, and a + declaration as to when and where he had lost it. The stolen + property was then easily recovered, and restored to the owner on + the payment of one fourth of its value, which was given to the + thief. A similar state of things existed at Cairo within a + comparatively short time.] + +so we simply take their booty from them, and let them go. But say, +Paaker, what devil of amiability took possession of you down by the +river, that you let the rascal escape unpunished.” + +“Did you do that?” exclaimed Gagabu. “Revenge is usually your--” + +Ameni threw so warning a glance at the old man, that he suddenly broke +off, and then asked the pioneer: “How did the struggle begin, and who +was the fellow?” + +“Some insolent people,” said Paaker, “wanted to push in front of the +boat that was waiting for my mother, and I asserted my rights. The +rascal fell upon me, and killed my dog and--by my Osirian father!--the +crocodiles would long since have eaten him if a woman had not come +between us, and made herself known to me as Bent-Anat, the daughter of +Rameses. It was she herself, and the rascal was the young prince Rameri, +who was yesterday forbidden this temple.” + +“Oho!” cried the old master of the hunt. “Oho! my lord! Is this the way +to speak of the children of the king?” + +Others of the company who were attached to Pharaoh’s family expressed +their indignation; but Ameni whispered to Paaker--“Say no more!” then he +continued aloud: + +“You never were careful in weighing your words, my friend, and now, +as it seems to me, you are speaking in the heat of fever. Come here, +Gagabu, and examine Paaker’s wound, which is no disgrace to him--for it +was inflicted by a prince.” + +The old man loosened the bandage from the pioneer’s swollen hand. + +“That was a bad blow,” he exclaimed; “three fingers are broken, and--do +you see?--the emerald too in your signet ring.” + +Paaker looked down at his aching fingers, and uttered a sigh of rehef, +for it was not the oracular ring with the name of Thotmes III., but +the valuable one given to his father by the reigning king that had been +crushed. Only a few solitary fragments of the splintered stone remained +in the setting; the king’s name had fallen to pieces, and disappeared. +Paaker’s bloodless lips moved silently, and an inner voice cried out to +him: “The Gods point out the way! The name is gone, the bearer of the +name must follow.” + +“It is a pity about the ring,” said Gagabu. “And if the hand is not +to follow it--luckily it is your left hand--leave off drinking, let +yourself be taken to Nebsecht the surgeon, and get him to set the joints +neatly, and bind them up.” + +Paaker rose, and went away after Ameni had appointed to meet him on the +following day at the Temple of Seti, and the Regent at the palace. + +When the door had closed behind him, the treasurer of the temple said: + +“This has been a bad day for the Mohar, and perhaps it will teach him +that here in Thebes he cannot swagger as he does in the field. Another +adventure occurred to him to-day; would you like to hear it?” + +“Yes; tell it!” cried the guests. + +“You all knew old Seni,” began the treasurer. “He was a rich man, but he +gave away all his goods to the poor, after his seven blooming sons, one +after another, had died in the war, or of illness. He only kept a small +house with a little garden, and said that as the Gods had taken his +children to themselves in the other world he would take pity on the +forlorn in this. ‘Feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the +naked’ says the law; and now that Seni has nothing more to give away, +he goes through the city, as you know, hungry and thirsty himself, and +scarcely clothed, and begging for his adopted children, the poor. We +have all given to him, for we all know for whom he humbles himself, +and holds out his hand. To-day he went round with his little bag, and +begged, with his kind good eyes, for alms. Paaker has given us a good +piece of arable land, and thinks, perhaps with reason, that he has done +his part. When Seni addressed him, he told him to go; but the old man +did not give up asking him, he followed him persistently to the grave +of his father, and a great many people with him. Then the pioneer pushed +him angrily back, and when at last the beggar clutched his garment, +he raised his whip, and struck him two or three times, crying out: +‘There-that is your portion!’ The good old man bore it quite patiently, +while he untied the bag, and said with tears in his eyes: ‘My +portion--yes--but not the portion of the poor!’ + +“I was standing near, and I saw how Paaker hastily withdrew into the +tomb, and how his mother Setchem threw her full purse to Seni. Others +followed her example, and the old man never had a richer harvest. The +poor may thank the Mohar! A crowd of people collected in front of the +tomb, and he would have fared badly if it had not been for the police +guard who drove them away.” + +During this narrative, which was heard with much approval--for no one is +more secure of his result than he who can tell of the downfall of a man +who is disliked for his arrogance--the Regent and the high-priest had +been eagerly whispering to each other. + +“There can be no doubt,” said Ameni, “that Bent-Anat did actually come +to the festival.” + +“And had also dealings with the priest whom you so warmly defend,” + whispered the other. + +“Pentaur shall be questioned this very night,” returned the high-priest. +“The dishes will soon be taken away, and the drinking will begin. Let us +go and hear what the poet says.” + +“But there are now no witnesses,” replied Ani. + +“We do not need them,” said Ameni. “He is incapable of a lie.” + +“Let us go then,” said the Regent smiling, “for I am really curious +about this white negro, and how he will come to terms with the truth. +You have forgotten that there is a woman in the case.” + +“That there always is!” answered Ameni; he called Gagabu to him, gave +him his seat, begged him to keep up the flow of cheerful conversation, +to encourage the guests to drink, and to interrupt all talk of the king, +the state, or the war. + +“You know,” he concluded, “that we are not by ourselves this evening. +Wine has, before this, betrayed everything! Remember this--the mother of +foresight looks backwards!” + +Ani clapped his hand on the old man’s shoulder. “There will be a space +cleared to-night in your winelofts. It is said of you that you cannot +bear to see either a full glass or an empty one; to-night give your +aversion to both free play. And when you think it is the right moment, +give a sign to my steward, who is sitting there in the corner. He has a +few jars of the best liquor from Byblos, that he brought over with +him, and he will bring it to you. I will come in again and bid you +good-night.” Ameni was accustomed to leave the hall at the beginning of +the drinking. + +When the door was closed behind him and his companion, when fresh +rose-garlands had been brought for the necks of the company, when lotus +blossoms decorated their heads, and the beakers were refilled, a choir +of musicians came in, who played on harps, lutes, flutes, and small +drums. The conductor beat the time by clapping his hands, and when the +music had raised the spirits of the drinkers, they seconded his efforts +by rhythmical clippings. The jolly old Gagabu kept up his character as a +stout drinker, and leader of the feast. + +The most priestly countenances soon beamed with cheerfulness, and the +officers and courtiers outdid each other in audacious jokes. Then the +old man signed to a young temple-servant, who wore a costly wreath; he +came forward with a small gilt image of a mummy, carried it round the +circle and cried: + +“Look at this, be merry and drink so long as you are on earth, for soon +you must be like this.” + + [A custom mentioned by Herodotus. Lucian saw such an image brought + in at a feast. The Greeks adopted the idea, but beautified it, + using a winged Genius of death instead of a mummy. The Romans also + had their “larva.”] + +Gagabu gave another signal, and the Regent’s steward brought in the wine +from Byblos. Ani was much lauded for the wonderful choiceness of the +liquor. + +“Such wine,” exclaimed the usually grave chief of the pastophori, “is +like soap.” + + [This comparison is genuinely Eastern. Kisra called wine “the soap + of sorrow.” The Mohammedans, to whom wine is forbidden, have + praised it like the guests of the House of Seti. Thus Abdelmalik + ibn Salih Haschimi says: “The best thing the world enjoys is wine.” + Gahiz says: “When wine enters thy bones and flows through thy limbs + it bestows truth of feeling, and perfects the soul; it removes + sorrow, elevates the mood, etc., etc.” When Ibn ‘Aischah was told + that some one drank no wine, he said: “He has thrice disowned the + world.” Ibn el Mu’tazz sang: + + “Heed not time, how it may linger, or how swiftly take its flight, + Wail thy sorrows only to the wine before thee gleaming bright. + But when thrice thou st drained the beaker watch and ward + keep o’er thy heart. + Lest the foam of joy should vanish, and thy soul with anguish smart, + This for every earthly trouble is a sovereign remedy, + Therefore listen to my counsel, knowing what will profit thee, + Heed not time, for ah, how many a man has longed in pain + Tale of evil days to lighten--and found all his longing vain.” + --Translated by Mary J. Safford.] + +“What a simile!” cried Gagabu. “You must explain it.” + +“It cleanses the soul of sorrow,” answered the other. “Good, friend!” + they all exclaimed. “Now every one in turn shall praise the noble juice +in some worthy saying.” + +“You begin--the chief prophet of the temple of Atnenophis.” + +“Sorrow is a poison,” said the priest, “and wine is the antidote.” + +“Well said!--go on; it is your turn, my lord privy councillor.” + +“Every thing has its secret spring,” said the official, “and wine is the +secret of joy.” + +“Now you, my lord keeper of the seal.” + +“Wine seals the door on discontent, and locks the gates on sorrow.” + +“That it does, that it certainly does!--Now the governor of Hermothis, +the oldest of all the company.” + +“Wine ripens especially for us old folks, and not for you young people.” + +“That you must explain,” cried a voice from the table of the military +officers. + +“It makes young men of the old,” laughed the octogenarian, “and children +of the young.” + +“He has you there, you youngsters,” cried Gagabu. “What have you to say, +Septah?” + +“Wine is a poison,” said the morose haruspex, “for it makes fools of +wise men.” + +“Then you have little to fear from it, alas!” said Gagabu laughing. +“Proceed, my lord of the chase.” + +“The rim of the beaker,” was the answer, “is like the lip of the woman +you love. Touch it, and taste it, and it is as good as the kiss of a +bride.” + +“General--the turn is yours.” + +“I wish the Nile ran with such wine instead of with water,” cried the +soldier, “and that I were as big as the colossus of Atnenophis, and that +the biggest obelisk of Hatasu were my drinking vessel, and that I might +drink as much as I would! But now--what have you to say of this noble +liquor, excellent Gagabu?” + +The second prophet raised his beaker, and gazed lovingly at the golden +fluid; he tasted it slowly, and then said with his eyes turned to +heaven: + +“I only fear that I am unworthy to thank the Gods for such a divine +blessing.” + +“Well said!” exclaimed the Regent Ani, who had re-entered the room +unobserved. “If my wine could speak, it would thank you for such a +speech.” + +“Hail to the Regent Ani!” shouted the guests, and they all rose with +their cups filled with his noble present. + +He pledged them and then rose. + +“Those,” said he, “who have appreciated this wine, I now invite to dine +with me to-morrow. You will then meet with it again, and if you still +find it to your liking, you will be heartily welcome any evening. Now, +good night, friends.” + +A thunder of applause followed him, as he quitted the room. + +The morning was already grey, when the carousing-party broke up; few of +the guests could find their way unassisted through the courtyard; most +of them had already been carried away by the slaves, who had waited for +them--and who took them on their heads, like bales of goods--and had +been borne home in their litters; but for those who remained to the end, +couches were prepared in the House of Seti, for a terrific storm was now +raging. + +While the company were filling and refilling the beakers, which raised +their spirits to so wild a pitch, the prisoner Pentaur had been examined +in the presence of the Regent. Ameni’s messenger had found the poet +on his knees, so absorbed in meditation that he did not perceive his +approach. All his peace of mind had deserted him, his soul was in a +tumult, and he could not succeed in obtaining any calm and clear control +over the new life-pulses which were throbbing in his heart. + +He had hitherto never gone to rest at night without requiring of himself +an account of the past day, and he had always been able to detect the +most subtle line that divided right from wrong in his actions. But +to-night he looked back on a perplexing confusion of ideas and events, +and when he endeavored to sort them and arrange them, he could see +nothing clearly but the image of Bent-Anat, which enthralled his heart +and intellect. + +He had raised his hand against his fellow-men, and dipped it in blood, +he desired to convince himself of his sin, and to repent but he could +not; for each time he recalled it, to blame and condemn himself, he +saw the soldier’s hand twisted in Uarda’s hair, and the princess’s eyes +beaming with approbation, nay with admiration, and he said to himself +that he had acted rightly, and in the same position would do the same +again to-morrow. Still he felt that he had broken through all the +conditions with which fate had surrounded his existence, and it seemed +to him that he could never succeed in recovering the still, narrow, but +peaceful life of the past. + +His soul went up in prayer to the Almighty One, and to the spirit of the +sweet humble woman whom he had called his mother, imploring for peace +of mind and modest content; but in vain--for the longer he remained +prostrate, flinging up his arms in passionate entreaty, the keener grew +his longings, the less he felt able to repent or to recognize his guilt. +Ameni’s order to appear before him came almost as a deliverance, and +he followed the messenger prepared for a severe punishment; but not +afraid--almost joyful. + +In obedience to the command of the grave high-priest, Pentaur related +the whole occurrence--how, as there was no leech in the house, he +had gone with the old wife of the paraschites to visit her possessed +husband; how, to save the unhappy girl from ill-usage by the mob, he had +raised his hand in fight, and dealt indeed some heavy blows. + +“You have killed four men,” said Ameni, “and severely wounded twice as +many. Why did you not reveal yourself as a priest, as the speaker of +the morning’s discourse? Why did you not endeavor to persuade the people +with words of warning, rather than with brute force?” + +“I had no priest’s garment,” replied Pentaur. “There again you did +wrong,” said Ameni, “for you know that the law requires of each of +us never to leave this house without our white robes. But you cannot +pretend not to know your own powers of speech, nor to contradict me when +I assert that, even in the plainest working-dress, you were perfectly +able to produce as much effect with words as by deadly blows!” “I might +very likely have succeeded,” answered Pentaur, “but the most savage +temper ruled the crowd; there was no time for reflection, and when I +struck down the villain, like some reptile, who had seized the innocent +girl, the lust of fighting took possession of me. I cared no more for my +own life, and to save the child I would have slain thousands.” + +“Your eyes sparkle,” said Ameni, “as if you had performed some heroic +feat; and yet the men you killed were only unarmed and pious citizens, +who were roused to indignation by a gross and shameless outrage. I +cannot conceive whence the warrior-spirit should have fallen on a +gardener’s son--and a minister of the Gods.” + +“It is true,” answered Pentaur, “when the crowd rushed upon me, and I +drove them back, putting out all my strength, I felt something of the +warlike rage of the soldier, who repulses the pressing foe from the +standard committed to his charge. It was sinful in a priest, no doubt, +and I will repent of it--but I felt it.” + +“You felt it--and you will repent of it, well and good,” replied Ameni. +“But you have not given a true account of all that happened. Why have +you concealed that Bent-Anat--Rameses’ daughter--was mixed up in the +fray, and that she saved you by announcing her name to the people, and +commanding them to leave you alone? When you gave her the lie before all +the people, was it because you did not believe that it was Bent-Anat? +Now, you who stand so firmly on so high a platform--now you +standard-bearer of the truth answer me.” + +Pentaur had turned pale at his master’s words, and said, as he looked at +the Regent: + +“We are not alone.” + +“Truth is one!” said Ameni coolly. “What you can reveal to me, can also +be heard by this noble lord, the Regent of the king himself. Did you +recognize Bent-Anat, or not?” + +“The lady who rescued me was like her, and yet unlike,” answered the +poet, whose blood was roused by the subtle irony of his Superior’s +words. “And if I had been as sure that she was the princess, as I am +that you are the man who once held me in honor, and who are now trying +to humiliate me, I would all the more have acted as I did to spare +a lady who is more like a goddess than a woman, and who, to save an +unworthy wretch like me, stooped from a throne to the dust.” + +“Still the poet--the preacher!” said Ameni. Then he added severely. “I +beg for a short and clear answer. We know for certain that the princess +took part in the festival in the disguise of a woman of low rank, for +she again declared herself to Paaker; and we know that it was she who +saved you. But did you know that she meant to come across the Nile?” + +“How should I?” asked Pentaur. + +“Well, did you believe that it was Bent-Anat whom you saw before you +when she ventured on to the scene of conflict?” + +“I did believe it,” replied Pentaur; he shuddered and cast down his +eyes. + +“Then it was most audacious to drive away the king’s daughter as an +impostor.” + +“It was,” said Pentaur. “But for my sake she had risked the honor of her +name, and that of her royal father, and I--I should not have risked my +life and freedom for--” + +“We have heard enough,” interrupted Ameni. + +“Not so,” the Regent interposed. “What became of the girl you had +saved?” + +“An old witch, Hekt by name, a neighbor of Pinem’s, took her and her +grandmother into her cave,” answered the poet; who was then, by the +high-priest’s order, taken back to the temple-prison. + +Scarcely had he disappeared when the Regent exclaimed: + +“A dangerous man! an enthusiast! an ardent worshipper of Rameses!” + +“And of his daughter,” laughed Ameni, “but only a worshipper. Thou hast +nothing to fear from him--I will answer for the purity of his motives.” + +“But he is handsome and of powerful speech,” replied Ani. “I claim him +as my prisoner, for he has killed one of my soldiers.” + +Ameni’s countenance darkened, and he answered very sternly: + +“It is the exclusive right of our conclave, as established by our +charter, to judge any member of this fraternity. You, the future king, +have freely promised to secure our privileges to us, the champions of +your own ancient and sacred rights.” + +“And you shall have them,” answered the Regent with a persuasive smile. +“But this man is dangerous, and you would not have him go unpunished.” + +“He shall be severely judged,” said Ameni, “but by us and in this +house.” + +“He has committed murder!” cried Ani. “More than one murder. He is +worthy of death.” + +“He acted under pressure of necessity,” replied Ameni. “And a man so +favored by the Gods as he, is not to be lightly given up because an +untimely impulse of generosity prompted him to rash conduct. I know--I +can see that you wish him ill. Promise me, as you value me as an ally, +that you will not attempt his life.” + +“Oh, willingly!” smiled the Regent, giving the high-priest his hand. + +“Accept my sincere thanks,” said Ameni. “Pentaur was the most promising +of my disciples, and in spite of many aberrations I still esteem him +highly. When he was telling us of what had occurred to-day, did he not +remind you of the great Assa, or of his gallant son, the Osirian father +of the pioneer Paaker?” + +“The likeness is extraordinary,” answered Ani, “and yet he is of quite +humble birth. Who was his mother?” + +“Our gate-keeper’s daughter, a plain, pious, simple creature.” + +“Now I will return to the banqueting hall,” said Ani, after a fete +moments of reflection. “But I must ask you one thing more. I spoke to +you of a secret that will put Paaker into our power. The old sorceress +Hekt, who has taken charge of the paraschites’ wife and grandchild, +knows all about it. Send some policeguards over there, and let her be +brought over here as a prisoner; I will examine her myself, and so can +question her without exciting observation.” + +Ameni at once sent off a party of soldiers, and then quietly ordered a +faithful attendant to light up the so-called audience-chamber, and to +put a seat for him in an adjoining room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +While the banquet was going forward at the temple, and Ameni’s +messengers were on their way to the valley of the kings’ tombs, to waken +up old Hekt, a furious storm of hot wind came up from the southwest, +sweeping black clouds across the sky, and brown clouds of dust across +the earth. It bowed the slender palm-trees as an archer bends his bow, +tore the tentpegs up on the scene of the festival, whirled the light +tent-cloths up in the air, drove them like white witches through the +dark night, and thrashed the still surface of the Nile till its yellow +waters swirled and tossed in waves like a restless sea. + +Paaker had compelled his trembling slaves to row him across the stream; +several times the boat was near being swamped, but he had seized the +helm himself with his uninjured hand, and guided it firmly and surely, +though the rocking of the boat kept his broken hand in great and +constant pain. After a few ineffectual attempts he succeeded in landing. +The storm had blown out the lanterns at the masts--the signal lights for +which his people looked--and he found neither servants nor torch-bearers +on the bank, so he struggled through the scorching wind as far as the +gate of his house. His big dog had always been wont to announce his +return home to the door-keeper with joyful barking; but to-night the +boatmen long knocked in vain at the heavy doer. When at last he entered +the court-yard, he found all dark, for the wind had extinguished the +lanterns and torches, and there were no lights but in the windows of his +mother’s rooms. + +The dogs in their open kennels now began to make themselves heard, but +their tones were plaintive and whining, for the storm had frightened the +beasts; their howling cut the pioneer to the heart, for it reminded him +of the poor slain Descher, whose deep voice he sadly missed; and when he +went into his own room he was met by a wild cry of lamentation from the +Ethiopian slave, for the dog which he had trained for Paaker’s father, +and which he had loved. + +The pioneer threw himself on a seat, and ordered some water to be +brought, that he might cool his aching hand in it, according to the +prescription of Nebsecht. + +As soon as the old man saw the broken fingers, he gave another yell of +woe, and when Paaker ordered him to cease he asked: + +“And is the man still alive who did that, and who killed Descher?” + +Paaker nodded, and while he held his hand in the cooling water he looked +sullenly at the ground. He felt miserable, and he asked himself why +the storm had not swamped the boat, and the Nile had not swallowed him. +Bitterness and rage filled his breast, and he wished he were a child, +and might cry. But his mood soon changed, his breath came quickly, +his breast heaved, and an ominous light glowed in his eyes. He was not +thinking of his love, but of the revenge that was even dearer to him. + +“That brood of Rameses!” he muttered. “I will sweep them all away +together--the king, and Mena, and those haughty princes, and many +more--I know how. Only wait, only wait!” and he flung up his right fist +with a threatening gesture. + +The door opened at this instant, and his mother entered the room; the +raging of the storm had drowned the sound of her steps, and as she +approached her revengeful son, she called his name in horror at the mad +wrath which was depicted in his countenance. Paaker started, and then +said with apparent composure: + +“Is it you, mother? It is near morning, and it is better to be asleep +than awake in such an hour.” + +“I could not rest in my rooms,” answered Setchem. “The storm howled so +wildly, and I am so anxious, so frightfully unhappy--as I was before +your father died.” + +“Then stay with me,” said Paaker affectionately, “and lie down on my +couch.” + +“I did not come here to sleep,” replied Setchem. “I am too unhappy at +all that happened to you on the larding-steps, it is frightful! No, no, +my son, it is not about your smashed hand, though it grieves me to see +you in pain; it is about the king, and his anger when he hears of the +quarrel. He favors you less than he did your lost father, I know it +well. But how wildly you smile, how wild you looked when I came in! It +went through my bones and marrow.” + +Both were silent for a time, and listened to the furious raging of +the storm. At last Setchem spoke. “There is something else,” she said, +“which disturbs my mind. I cannot forget the poet who spoke at the +festival to-day, young Pentaur. His figure, his face, his movements, nay +his very voice, are exactly like those of your father at the time when +he was young, and courted me. It is as if the Gods were fain to see the +best man that they ever took to themselves, walk before them a second +time upon earth.” + +“Yes, my lady,” said the black slave; “no mortal eye ever saw such a +likeness. I saw him fighting in front of the paraschites’ cottage, and +he was more like my dead master than ever. He swung the tent-post over +his head, as my lord used to swing his battle-axe.” + +“Be silent,” cried Paaker, “and get out-idiot! The priest is like my +father; I grant it, mother; but he is an insolent fellow, who offended +me grossly, and with whom I have to reckon--as with many others.” + +“How violent you are!” interrupted his mother, “and how full of +bitterness and hatred. Your father was so sweet-tempered, and kind to +everybody.” + +“Perhaps they are kind to me?” retorted Paaker with a short laugh. “Even +the Immortals spite me, and throw thorns in my path. But I will push +them aside with my own hand, and will attain what I desire without the +help of the Gods and overthrow all that oppose me.” + +“We cannot blow away a feather without the help of the Immortals,” + answered Setchem. “So your father used to say, who was a very different +man both in body and mind from you! I tremble before you this evening, +and at the curses you have uttered against the children of your lord and +sovereign, your father’s best friend.” + +“But my enemy,” shouted Paaker. “You will get nothing from me but +curses. And the brood of Rameses shall learn whether your husband’s son +will let himself be ill-used and scorned without revenging him self. I +will fling them into an abyss, and I will laugh when I see them writhing +in the sand at my feet!” + +“Fool!” cried Setchem, beside herself. “I am but a woman, and have often +blamed myself for being soft and weak; but as sure as I am faithful +to your dead father--who you are no more like than a bramble is like +a palm-tree--so surely will I tear my love for you out of my heart if +you--if you--Now I see! now I know! Answer me-murderer! Where are the +seven arrows with the wicked words which used to hang here? Where are +the arrows on which you had scrawled ‘Death to Mena?’” + +With these words Setchem breathlessly started forward, but the pioneer +drew back as she confronted him, as in his youthful days when she +threatened to punish him for some misdemeanor. She followed him up, +caught him by the girdle, and in a hoarse voice repeated her question. +He stood still, snatched her hand angrily from his belt, and said +defiantly: + +“I have put them in my quiver--and not for mere play. Now you know.” + +Incapable of words, the maddened woman once more raised her hand against +her degenerate son, but he put back her arm. + +“I am no longer a child,” he said, “and I am master of this house. I +will do what I will, if a hundred women hindered me!” and with these +words he pointed to the door. Setchem broke into loud sobs, and turned +her back upon him; but at the door once more she turned to look at him. +He had seated himself, and was resting his forehead on the table on +which the bowl of cold water stood. + +Setchem fought a hard battle. At last once more through her choking +tears she called his name, opened her arms wide and exclaimed: + +“Here I am--here I am! Come to my heart, only give up these hideous +thoughts of revenge.” + +But Paaker did not move, he did not look up at her, he did not speak, +he only shook his head in negation. Setchem’s hands fell, and she said +softly: + +“What did your father teach you out of the scriptures? ‘Your highest +praise consists in this, to reward your mother for what she has done for +you, in bringing you up, so that she may not raise her hands to God, nor +He hear her lamentation.’” + +At these words, Paaker sobbed aloud, but he did not look at his mother. +She called him tenderly by his name; then her eyes fell on his quiver, +which lay on a bench with other arms. Her heart shrunk within her, and +with a trembling voice she exclaimed: + +“I forbid this mad vengeance--do you hear? Will you give it up? You do +not move? No! you will not! Ye Gods, what can I do?” + +She wrung her hands in despair; then she hastily crossed the room, +snatched out one of the arrows, and strove to break it. Paaker sprang +from his seat, and wrenched the weapon from her hand; the sharp point +slightly scratched the skin, and dark drops of blood flowed from it, and +dropped upon the floor. + +The Mohar would have taken the wounded hand, for Setchem, who had the +weakness of never being able to see blood flow--neither her own nor +anybody’s else--had turned as pale as death; but she pushed him from +her, and as she spoke her gentle voice had a dull estranged tone. + +“This hand,” she said--“a mother’s hand wounded by her son--shall never +again grasp yours till you have sworn a solemn oath to put away from you +all thoughts of revenge and murder, and not to disgrace your father’s +name. I have said it, and may his glorified spirit be my witness, and +give me strength to keep my word!” + +Paaker had fallen on his knees, and was engaged in a terrible mental +struggle, while his mother slowly went towards the door. There again she +stood still for a moment; she did not speak, but her eyes appealed to +him once more. + +In vain. At last she left the room, and the wind slammed the door +violently behind her. Paaker groaned, and pressed his hand over his +eyes. + +“Mother, mother!” he cried. “I cannot go back--I cannot.” + +A fearful gust of wind howled round the house, and drowned his voice, +and then he heard two tremendous claps, as if rocks had been hurled from +heaven. He started up and went to the window, where the melancholy grey +dawn was showing, in order to call the slaves. Soon they came trooping +out, and the steward called out as soon as he saw him: + +“The storm has blown down the masts at the great gate!” + +“Impossible!” cried Paaker. + +“Yes, indeed!” answered the servant. “They have been sawn through close +to the ground. The matmaker no doubt did it, whose collar-bone was +broken. He has escaped in this fearful night.” + +“Let out the dogs,” cried the Mohar. “All who have legs run after the +blackguard! Freedom, and five handfuls of gold for the man who brings +him back.” + +The guests at the House of Seti had already gone to rest, when Ameni was +informed of the arrival of the sorceress, and he at once went into the +hall, where Ani was waiting to see her; the Regent roused himself from a +deep reverie when he heard the high-priest’s steps. + +“Is she come?” he asked hastily; when Ameni answered in the affirmative +Ani went on meanwhile carefully disentangling the disordered curls of +his wig, and arranging his broad, collar-shaped necklace: + +“The witch may exercise some influence over me; will you not give me +your blessing to preserve me from her spells? It is true, I have on me +this Houss’-eye, and this Isis-charm, but one never knows.” + +“My presence will be your safe-guard,” said Ameni. “But-no, of course +you wish to speak with her alone. You shall be conducted to a room, +which is protected against all witchcraft by sacred texts. My brother,” + he continued to one of the serving-priests, “let the witch be taken +into one of the consecrated rooms, and then, when you have sprinkled the +threshold, lead my lord Ani thither.” + +The high-priest went away, and into a small room which adjoined the hall +where the interview between the Regent and the old woman was about to +take place, and where the softest whisper spoken in the larger room +could be heard by means of an ingeniously contrived and invisible tube. + +When Ani saw the old woman, he started back is horror; her appearance at +this moment was, in fact, frightful. The storm had tossed and torn her +garment and tumbled all her thick, white hair, so that locks of it fell +over her face. She leaned on a staff, and bending far forward looked +steadily at the Regent; and her eyes, red and smarting from the sand +which the wind had flung in her face, seemed to glow as she fixed them +on his. She looked as a hyaena might when creeping to seize its prey, +and Ani felt a cold shiver and he heard her hoarse voice addressing +him to greet him and to represent that he had chosen a strange hour for +requiring her to speak with him. + +When she had thanked him for his promise of renewing her letter +of freedom, and had confirmed the statement that Paaker had had a +love-philter from her, she parted her hair from off her face--it +occurred to her that she was a woman. + +The Regent sat in an arm-chair, she stood before him; but the struggle +with the storm had tired her old limbs, and she begged Ani to permit her +to be seated, as she had a long story to tell, which would put Paaker +into his power, so that he would find him as yielding as wax. The +Regent signed her to a corner of the room, and she squatted down on the +pavement. + +When he desired her to proceed with her story, she looked at the floor +for some time in silence, and then began, as if half to herself: + +“I will tell thee, that I may find peace--I do not want, when I die, to +be buried unembalmed. Who knows but perhaps strange things may happen +in the other world, and I would not wish to miss them. I want to see him +again down there, even if it were in the seventh limbo of the damned. +Listen to me! But, before I speak, promise me that whatever I tell thee, +thou wilt leave me in peace, and will see that I am embalmed when I am +dead. Else I will not speak.” + +Ani bowed consent. + +“No-no,” she said. “I will tell thee what to swear ‘If I do not keep my +word to Hekt--who gives the Mohar into my power--may the Spirits whom +she rules, annihilate me before I mount the throne.’ Do not be vexed, +my lord--and say only ‘Yes.’ What I can tell, is worth more than a mere +word.” + +“Well then--yes!” cried the Regent, eager for the mighty revelation. + +The old woman muttered a few unintelligible words; then she collected +herself, stretched out her lean neck, and asked, as she fixed her +sparkling eyes on the man before her: + +“Did’st thou ever, when thou wert young, hear of the singer Beki? Well, +look at me, I am she.” + +She laughed loud and hoarsely, and drew her tattered robe across her +bosom, as if half ashamed of her unpleasing person. + +“Ay!” she continued. “Men find pleasure in grapes by treading them +down, and when the must is drunk the skins are thrown on the dung-hill. +Grape-skins, that is what I am--but you need not look at me so +pitifully; I was grapes once, and poor and despised as I am now, no one +can take from me what I have had and have been. Mine has been a life +out of a thousand, a complete life, full to overflowing of joy and +suffering, of love and hate, of delight, despair, and revenge. Only to +talk of it raises me to a seat by thy throne there. No, let me be, I am +used now to squatting on the ground; but I knew thou wouldst hear me to +the end, for once I too was one of you. Extremes meet in all things--I +know it by experience. The greatest men will hold out a hand to a +beautiful woman, and time was when I could lead you all as with a rope. +Shall I begin at the beginning? Well--I seldom am in the mood for it +now-a-days. Fifty years ago I sang a song with this voice of mine; an +old crow like me? sing! But so it was. My father was a man of rank, the +governor of Abydos; when the first Rameses took possession of the throne +my father was faithful to the house of thy fathers, so the new king sent +us all to the gold mines, and there they all died--my parents, brothers, +and sisters. I only survived by some miracle. As I was handsome and sang +well, a music master took me into his band, brought me to Thebes, +and wherever there was a feast given in any great house, Beki was +in request. Of flowers and money and tender looks I had a plentiful +harvest; but I was proud and cold, and the misery of my people had made +me bitter at an age when usually even bad liquor tastes of honey. Not +one of all the gay young fellows, princes’ sons, and nobles, dared to +touch my hand. But my hour was to come; the handsomest and noblest man +of them all, and grave and dignified too--was Assa, the old Mohar’s +father, and grandfather of Pentaur--no, I should say of Paaker, the +pioneer; thou hast known him. Well, wherever I sang, he sat opposite me, +and gazed at me, and I could not take my eyes off him, and--thou canst +tell the rest! no! Well, no woman before or after me can ever love a man +as I loved Assa. Why dost thou not laugh? It must seem odd, too, to hear +such a thing from the toothless mouth of an old witch. He is dead, long +since dead. I hate him! and yet--wild as it sounds--I believe I love him +yet. And he loved me--for two years; then he went to the war with Seti, +and remained a long time away, and when I saw him again he had courted +the daughter of some rich and noble house. I was handsome enough still, +but he never looked at me at the banquets. I came across him at least +twenty times, but he avoided me as if I were tainted with leprosy, and I +began to fret, and fell ill of a fever. The doctors said it was all over +with me, so I sent him a letter in which there was nothing but these +words: ‘Beki is dying, and would like to see Assa once more,’ and in the +papyrus I put his first present--a plain ring. And what was the answer? +a handful of gold! Gold--gold! Thou may’st believe me, when I say that +the sight of it was more torturing to my eyes than the iron with which +they put out the eyes of criminals. Even now, when I think of it--But +what do you men, you lords of rank and wealth, know of a breaking heart? +When two or three of you happen to meet, and if thou should’st tell the +story, the most respectable will say in a pompous voice: ‘The man acted +nobly indeed; he was married, and his wife would have complained with +justice if he had gone to see the singer.’ Am I right or wrong? I know; +not one will remember that the other was a woman, a feeling human being; +it will occur to no one that his deed on the one hand saved an hour of +discomfort, and on the other wrought half a century of despair. Assa +escaped his wife’s scolding, but a thousand curses have fallen on him +and on his house. How virtuous he felt himself when he had crushed and +poisoned a passionate heart that had never ceased to love him! Ay, and +he would have come if he had not still felt some love for me, if he had +not misdoubted himself, and feared that the dying woman might once more +light up the fire he had so carefully smothered and crushed out. I would +have grieved for him--but that he should send me money, money!--that I +have never forgiven; that he shall atone for in his grandchild.” The +old woman spoke the last words as if in a dream, and without seeming to +remember her hearer. Ani shuddered, as if he were in the presence of a +mad woman, and he involuntarily drew his chair back a little way. + +The witch observed this; she took breath and went on: “You lords, who +walk in high places, do not know how things go on in the depths beneath +you; you do not choose to know. + +“But I will shorten my story. I got well, but I got out of my bed +thin and voiceless. I had plenty of money, and I spent it in buying of +everyone who professed magic in Thebes, potions to recover Assa’s love +for me, or in paying for spells to be cast on him, or for magic drinks +to destroy him. I tried too to recover my voice, but the medicines I +took for it made it rougher not sweeter. Then an excommunicated priest, +who was famous among the magicians, took me into his house, and there I +learned many things; his old companions afterwards turned upon him, he +came over here into the Necropolis, and I came with him. When at last +he was taken and hanged, I remained in his cave, and myself took to +witchcraft. Children point their fingers at me, honest men and women +avoid me, I am an abomination to all men, nay to myself. And one only +is guilty of all this ruin--the noblest gentleman in Thebes--the pious +Assa. + +“I had practised magic for several years, and had become learned in many +arts, when one day the gardener Sent, from whom I was accustomed to buy +plants for my mixtures--he rents a plot of ground from the temple of +Seti--Sent brought me a new-born child that had been born with six toes; +I was to remove the supernumerary toe by my art. The pious mother of the +child was lying ill of fever, or she never would have allowed it; I took +the screaming little wretch--for such things are sometimes curable. The +next morning, a few hours after sunrise, there was a bustle in front of +my cave; a maid, evidently belonging to a noble house, was calling +me. Her mistress, she said, had come with her to visit the tomb of her +fathers, and there had been taken ill, and had given birth to a child. +Her mistress was lying senseless--I must go at once, and help her. I +took the little six-toed brat in my cloak, told my slavegirl to follow +me with water, and soon found myself--as thou canst guess--at the tomb +of Assa’s ancestors. The poor woman, who lay there in convulsions, was +his daughter-in-law Setchem. The baby, a boy, was as sound as a nut, +but she was evidently in great danger. I sent the maid with the litter, +which was waiting outside, to the temple here for help; the girl said +that her master, the father of the child, was at the war, but that the +grandfather, the noble Assa, had promised to meet the lady Setchem at +the tomb, and would shortly be coming; then she disappeared with the +litter. I washed the child, and kissed it as if it were my own. Then I +heard distant steps in the valley, and the recollection of the moment +when I, lying at the point of death, had received that gift of money +from Assa came over me, and then I do not know myself how it happened--I +gave the new-born grandchild of Assa to my slave-girl, and told her to +carry it quickly to the cave, and I wrapped the little six-toed baby +in my rags and held it in my lap. There I sat--and the minutes seemed +hours, till Assa came up; and when he stood before me, grown grey, it +is true, but still handsome and upright--I put the gardener’s boy, the +six-toed brat, into his very arms, and a thousand demons seemed to laugh +hoarsely within me. He thanked me, he did not know me, and once more he +offered me a handful of gold. I took it, and I listened as the priest, +who had come from the temple, prophesied all sorts of fine things for +the little one, who was born in so fortunate an hour; and then I went +back into my cave, and there I laughed till I cried, though I do not +know that the tears sprang from the laughter. + +“A few days after I gave Assa’s grandchild to the gardener, and told +him the sixth toe had come off; I had made a little wound on his foot to +take in the bumpkin. So Assa’s grandchild, the son of the Mohar, grew +up as the gardener’s child, and received the name of Pentaur, and he +was brought up in the temple here, and is wonderfully like Assa; but +the gardener’s monstrous brat is the pioneer Paaker. That is the whole +secret.” + +Ani had listened in silence to the terrible old woman. + +We are involuntarily committed to any one who can inform us of some +absorbing fact, and who knows how to make the information valuable. +It did not occur to the Regent to punish the witch for her crimes; he +thought rather of his older friends’ rapture when they talked of the +singer Beki’s songs and beauty. He looked at the woman, and a cold +shiver ran through all his limbs. + +“You may live in peace,” he said at last; “and when you die I will see +to your being embalmed; but give up your black arts. You must be rich, +and, if you are not, say what you need. Indeed, I scarcely dare offer +you gold--it excites your hatred, as I understand.” + +“I could take thine--but now let me go!” + +She got up, and went towards the door, but the Regent called to her to +stop, and asked: + +“Is Assa the father of your son, the little Nemu, the dwarf of the lady +Katuti?” + +The witch laughed loudly. “Is the little wretch like Assa or like Beki? +I picked him up like many other children.” + +“But he is clever!” said Ani. + +“Ay-that he is. He has planned many a shrewd stroke, and is devoted to +his mistress. He will help thee to thy purpose, for he himself has one +too.” + +“And that is--?” + +“Katuti will rise to greatness with thee, and to riches through Paaker, +who sets out to-morrow to make the woman he loves a widow.” + +“You know a great deal,” said Ani meditatively, “and I would ask you +one thing more; though indeed your story has supplied the answer--but +perhaps you know more now than you did in your youth. Is there in truth +any effectual love-philter?” + +“I will not deceive thee, for I desire that thou should’st keep thy word +to me,” replied Hekt. “A love potion rarely has any effect, and never +but on women who have never before loved. If it is given to a woman +whose heart is filled with the image of another man her passion for him +only will grow the stronger.” + +“Yet another,” said Ani. “Is there any way of destroying an enemy at a +distance?” + +“Certainly,” said the witch. “Little people may do mean things, and +great people can let others do things that they cannot do themselves. My +story has stirred thy gall, and it seems to me that thou dost not love +the poet Pentaur. A smile! Well then--I have not lost sight of him, +and I know he is grown up as proud and as handsome as Assa. He is +wonderfully like him, and I could have loved him--have loved as this +foolish heart had better never have loved. It is strange! In many women, +who come to me, I see how their hearts cling to the children of men who +have abandoned them, and we women are all alike, in most things. But I +will not let myself love Assa’s grandchild--I must not. I will injure +him, and help everyone that persecutes him; for though Assa is dead, the +wrongs he did me live in me so long as I live myself. Pentaur’s destiny +must go on its course. If thou wilt have his life, consult with Nemu, +for he hates him too, and he will serve thee more effectually than I can +with my vain spells and silly harmless brews. Now let me go home!” + +A few hours later Ameni sent to invite the Regent to breakfast. + +“Do you know who the witch Hekt is?” asked Ani. + +“Certainly--how should I not know? She is the singer Beki--the former +enchantress of Thebes. May I ask what her communications were?” + +Ani thought it best not to confide the secret of Pentaur’s birth to the +high-priest, and answered evasively. Then Ameni begged to be allowed +to give him some information about the old woman, and how she had had a +hand in the game; and he related to his hearer, with some omissions and +variations--as if it were a fact he had long known--the very story which +a few hours since he had overheard, and learned for the first time. Ani +feigned great astonishment, and agreed with the high-priest that Paaker +should not for the present be informed of his true origin. + +“He is a strangely constituted man,” said Ameni, “and he is not +incapable of playing us some unforeseen trick before he has done his +part, if he is told who he is.” + +The storm had exhausted itself, and the sky, though covered still with +torn and flying clouds, cleared by degrees, as the morning went on; a +sharp coolness succeeded the hot blast, but the sun as it mounted higher +and higher soon heated the air. On the roads and in the gardens lay +uprooted trees and many slightly-built houses which had been blown +down, while the tents in the strangers’ quarter, and hundreds of light +palm-thatched roofs, had been swept away. + +The Regent was returning to Thebes, and with him went Ameni, who desired +to ascertain by his own eyes what mischief the whirlwind had done to his +garden in the city. On the Nile they met Paaker’s boat, and Ani caused +it and his own to be stopped, while he requested Paaker to visit him +shortly at the palace. + +The high-priest’s garden was in no respect inferior in beauty and extent +to that of the Mohar. The ground had belonged to his family from the +remotest generations, and his house was large and magnificent. He seated +himself in a shady arbor, to take a repast with his still handsome wife +and his young and pretty daughters. + +He consoled his wife for the various damage done by the hurricane, +promised the girls to build a new and handsomer clove-cot in the place +of the one which had been blown down, and laughed and joked with them +all; for here the severe head of the House of Seti, the grave Superior +of the Necropolis, became a simple man, an affectionate husband, a +tender father, a judicious friend, among his children, his flowers, and +his birds. His youngest daughter clung to his right arm, and an +older one to his left, when he rose from table to go with them to the +poultry-yard. + +On the way thither a servant announced to him that the Lady Setchem +wished to see him. + +“Take her to your mistress,” he said. + +But the slave--who held in his hand a handsome gift in money--explained +that the widow wished to speak with him alone. + +“Can I never enjoy an hour’s peace like other men?” exclaimed Ameni +annoyed. “Your mistress can receive her, and she can wait with her till +I come. It is true, girls--is it not?--that I belong to you just now, +and to the fowls, and ducks, and pigeons?” + +His youngest daughter kissed him, the second patted him affectionately, +and they all three went gaily forward. An hour later he requested the +Lady Setchem to accompany him into the garden. + +The poor, anxious, and frightened woman had resolved on this step with +much difficulty; tears filled her kind eyes, as she communicated her +troubles to the high-priest. + +“Thou art a wise counsellor,” she said, “and thou knowest well how my +son honors the Gods of the temple of Seti with gifts and offerings. +He will not listen to his mother, but thou hast influence with him. He +meditates frightful things, and if he cannot be terrified by threats of +punishment from the Immortals, he will raise his hand against Mena, and +perhaps--” + +“Against the king,” interrupted Ameni gravely. “I know it, and I will +speak to him.” + +“Thanks, oh a thousand thanks!” cried the widow, and she seized the +high-priests robe to kiss it. “It was thou who soon after his birth +didst tell my husband that he was born under a lucky star, and would +grow to be an honor and an ornament to his house and to his country. And +now--now he will ruin himself in this world, and the next.” + +“What I foretold of your son,” said Ameni, “shall assuredly be +fulfilled, for the ways of the Gods are not as the ways of men.” + +“Thy words do me good!” cried Setchem. “None can tell what fearful +terror weighed upon my heart, when I made up my mind to come here. But +thou dost not yet know all. The great masts of cedar, which Paaker sent +from Lebanon to Thebes to bear our banners, and ornament our gateway, +were thrown to the ground at sunrise by the frightful wind.” + +“Thus shall your son’s defiant spirit be broken,” said Ameni; “But for +you, if you have patience, new joys shall arise.” + +“I thank thee again,” said Setchem. “But something yet remains to be +said. I know that I am wasting the time that thou dost devote to thy +family, and I remember thy saying once that here in Thebes thou wert +like a pack-Horse with his load taken off, and free to wander over a +green meadow. I will not disturb thee much longer--but the Gods sent me +such a wonderful vision. Paaker would not listen to me, and I went back +into my room full of sorrow; and when at last, after the sun had risen, +I fell asleep for a few minutes, I dreamed I saw before me the poet +Pentaur, who is wonderfully like my dead husband in appearance and in +voice. Paaker went up to him, and abused him violently, and threatened +him with his fist; the priest raised his arms in prayer, just as I saw +him yesterday at the festival--but not in devotion, but to seize Paaker, +and wrestle with him. The struggle did not last long, for Paaker seemed +to shrink up, and lost his human form, and fell at the poet’s feet--not +my son, but a shapeless lump of clay such as the potter uses to make +jars of.” + +“A strange dream!” exclaimed Ameni, not without agitation. “A very +strange dream, but it bodes you good. Clay, Setchem, is yielding, and +clearly indicates that which the Gods prepare for you. The Immortals +will give you a new and a better son instead of the old one, but it is +not revealed to me by what means. Go now, and sacrifice to the Gods, and +trust to the wisdom of those who guide the life of the universe, and of +all mortal creatures. Yet--I would give you one more word of advice. If +Paaker comes to you repentant, receive him kindly, and let me know; but +if he will not yield, close your rooms against him, and let him depart +without taking leave of you.” + +When Setchem, much encouraged, was gone away, Ameni said to himself: + +“She will find splendid compensation for this coarse scoundrel, and +she shall not spoil the tool we need to strike our blow. I have often +doubted how far dreams do, indeed, foretell the future, but to-day my +faith in them is increased. Certainly a mother’s heart sees farther than +that of any other human being.” + +At the door of her house Setchem came up with her son’s chariot. +They saw each other, but both looked away, for they could not meet +affectionately, and would not meet coldly. As the horses outran the +litter-bearers, the mother and son looked round at each other, their +eyes met, and each felt a stab in the heart. + +In the evening the pioneer, after he had had an interview with the +Regent, went to the temple of Seti to receive Ameni’s blessing on all +his undertakings. Then, after sacrificing in the tomb of his ancestors, +he set out for Syria. + +Just as he was getting into his chariot, news was brought him that the +mat-maker, who had sawn through the masts at the gate, had been caught. + +“Put out his eyes!” he cried; and these were the last words he spoke as +he quitted his home. + +Setchem looked after him for a long time; she had refused to bid him +farewell, and now she implored the Gods to turn his heart, and to +preserve him from malice and crime. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +Three days had passed since the pioneer’s departure, and although it was +still early, busy occupation was astir in Bent-Anat’s work-rooms. + +The ladies had passed the stormy night, which had succeeded the exciting +evening of the festival, without sleep. + +Nefert felt tired and sleepy the next morning, and begged the princess +to introduce her to her new duties for the first time next day; but the +princess spoke to her encouragingly, told her that no man should put +off doing right till the morrow, and urged her to follow her into her +workshop. + +“We must both come to different minds,” said she. “I often shudder +involuntarily, and feel as if I bore a brand--as if I had a stain here +on my shoulder where it was touched by Paaker’s rough hand.” + +The first day of labor gave Nefert a good many difficulties to overcome; +on the second day the work she had begun already had a charm for her, +and by the third she rejoiced in the little results of her care. + +Bent-Anat had put her in the right place, for she had the direction of a +large number of young girls and women, the daughters, wives, and widows +of those Thebans who were at the war, or who had fallen in the field, +who sorted and arranged the healing herbs. Her helpers sat in little +circles on the ground; in the midst of each lay a great heap of fresh +and dry plants, and in front of each work-woman a number of parcels of +the selected roots, leaves, and flowers. + +An old physician presided over the whole, and had shown Nefert the first +day the particular plants which he needed. + +The wife of Mena, who was fond of flowers, had soon learnt them all, and +she taught willingly, for she loved children. + +She soon had favorites among the children, and knew some as being +industrious and careful, others as idle and heedless: + +“Ay! ay!” she exclaimed, bending over a little half-naked maiden with +great almond-shaped eyes. “You are mixing them all together. Your +father, as you tell me, is at the war. Suppose, now, an arrow were +to strike him, and this plant, which would hurt him, were laid on the +burning wound instead of this other, which would do him good--that would +be very sad.” + +The child nodded her head, and looked her work through again. Nefert +turned to a little idler, and said: “You are chattering again, and doing +nothing, and yet your father is in the field. If he were ill now, and +has no medicine, and if at night when he is asleep he dreams of you, and +sees you sitting idle, he may say to himself: ‘Now I might get well, but +my little girl at home does not love me, for she would rather sit with +her hands in her lap than sort herbs for her sick father.’” + +Then Nefert turned to a large group of the girls, who were sorting +plants, and said: “Do you, children, know the origin of all these +wholesome, healing herbs? The good Horus went out to fight against Seth, +the murderer of his father, and the horrible enemy wounded Horus in the +eye in the struggle; but the son of Osiris conquered, for good always +conquers evil. But when Isis saw the bad wound, she pressed her son’s +head to her bosom, and her heart was as sad as that of any poor human +mother that holds her suffering child in her arms. And she thought: ‘How +easy it is to give wounds, and how hard it is to heal them!’ and so she +wept; one tear after another fell on the earth, and wherever they wetted +the ground there sprang up a kindly healing plant.” + +“Isis is good!” cried a little girl opposite to her. “Mother says Isis +loves children when they are good.” + +“Your mother is right,” replied Nefert. “Isis herself has her dear +little son Horus; and every human being that dies, and that was good, +becomes a child again, and the Goddess makes it her own, and takes it to +her breast, and nurses it with her sister Nephthys till he grows up and +can fight for his father.” + +Nefert observed that while she spoke one of the women was crying. She +went up to her, and learned that her husband and her son were both dead, +the former in Syria, and the latter after his return to Egypt. “Poor +soul!” said Nefert. “Now you will be very careful, that the wounds of +others may be healed. I will tell you something more about Isis. She +loved her husband Osiris dearly, as you did your dead husband, and I my +husband Mena, but he fell a victim to the cunning of Seth, and she could +not tell where to find the body that had been carried away, while you +can visit your husband in his grave. Then Isis went through the land +lamenting, and ah! what was to become of Egypt, which received all its +fruitfulness from Osiris. The sacred Nile was dried up, and not a blade +of verdure was green on its banks. The Goddess grieved over this +beyond words, and one of her tears fell in the bed of the river, and +immediately it began to rise. You know, of course, that each inundation +arises from a tear of Isis. Thus a widow’s sorrow may bring blessing to +millions of human beings.” + +The woman had listened to her attentively, and when Nefert ceased +speaking she said: + +“But I have still three little brats of my son’s to feed, for his wife, +who was a washerwoman, was eaten by a crocodile while she was at work. +Poor folks must work for themselves, and not for others. If the princess +did not pay us, I could not think of the wounds of the soldiers, who do +not belong to me. I am no longer strong, and four mouths to fill--” + +Nefert was shocked--as she often was in the course of her new +duties--and begged Bent-Gnat to raise the wages of the woman. + +“Willingly,” said the princess. “How could I beat down such an +assistant. Come now with me into the kitchen. I am having some fruit +packed for my father and brothers; there must be a box for Mena too.” + Nefert followed her royal friend, found them packing in one case the +golden dates of the oasis of Amon, and in another the dark dates of +Nubia, the king’s favorite sort. “Let me pack them!” cried Nefert; +she made the servants empty the box again, and re-arranged the +various-colored dates in graceful patterns, with other fruits preserved +in sugar. + +Bent-Anat looked on, and when she had finished she took her hand. +“Whatever your fingers have touched,” she exclaimed, “takes some pretty +aspect. Give me that scrap of papyrus; I shall put it in the case, and +write upon it: + +“‘These were packed for king Rameses by his daughter’s clever helpmate, +the wife of Mena.’” + +After the mid-day rest the princess was called away, and Nefert remained +for some hours alone with the work-women. + +When the sun went down, and the busy crowd were about to leave, Nefert +detained them, and said: “The Sun-bark is sinking behind the western +hills; come, let us pray together for the king and for those we love in +the field. Each of you think of her own: you children of your fathers, +you women of your sons, and we wives of our distant husbands, and let us +entreat Amon that they may return to us as certainly as the sun, which +now leaves us, will rise again to-morrow morning.” + +Nefert knelt down, and with her the women and the children. + +When they rose, a little girl went up to Nefert, and said, pulling her +dress: “Thou madest us kneel here yesterday, and already my mother is +better, because I prayed for her.” + +“No doubt,” said Nefert, stroking the child’s black hair. + +She found Bent-Anat on the terrace meditatively gazing across to the +Necropolis, which was fading into darkness before her eyes. She started +when she heard the light footsteps of her friend. + +“I am disturbing thee,” said Nefert, about to retire. + +“No, stay,” said Bent-Anat. “I thank the Gods that I have you, for my +heart is sad--pitifully sad.” + +“I know where your thoughts were,” said Nefert softly. “Well?” asked the +princess. + +“With Pentaur.” + +“I think of him--always of him,” replied the princess, “and nothing else +occupies my heart. I am no longer myself. What I think I ought not to +think, what I feel I ought not to feel, and yet, I cannot command it, +and I think my heart would bleed to death if I tried to cut out those +thoughts and feelings. I have behaved strangely, nay unbecomingly, +and now that which is hard to endure is hanging over me, something +strange-which will perhaps drive you from me back to your mother.” + +“I will share everything with you,” cried Nefert. “What is going to +happen? Are you then no longer the daughter of Rameses?” + +“I showed myself to the people as a woman of the people,” answered +Bent-Anat, “and I must take the consequences. Bek en Chunsu, +the high-priest of Amon, has been with me, and I have had a long +conversation with him. The worthy man is good to me, I know, and my +father ordered me to follow his advice before any one’s. He showed me +that I have erred deeply. In a state of uncleanness I went into one +of the temples of the Necropolis, and after I had once been into the +paraschites’ house and incurred Ameni’s displeasure, I did it a second +time. They know over there all that took place at the festival. Now I +must undergo purification, either with great solemnity at the hands of +Ameni himself, before all the priests and nobles in the House of +Seti, or by performing a pilgrimage to the Emerald-Hathor, under whose +influence the precious stones are hewn from the rocks, metals dug out, +and purified by fire. The Goddess shall purge me from my uncleanness +as metal is purged from the dross. At a day’s journey and more from the +mines, an abundant stream flows from ‘the holy mountain-Sinai,’ as it is +called by the Mentut--and near it stands the sanctuary of the Goddess, +in which priests grant purification. The journey is a long one, through +the desert, and over the sea; But Bek en Chunsu advises me to venture +it. Ameni, he says, is not amiably disposed towards me, because I +infringed the ordinance which he values above all others. I must submit +to double severity, he says, because the people look first to those of +the highest rank; and if I went unpunished for contempt of the sacred +institutions there might be imitators among the crowd. He speaks in the +name of the Gods, and they measure hearts with an equal measure. The +ell-measure is the symbol of the Goddess of Truth. I feel that it is all +not unjust; and yet I find it hard to submit to the priest’s decree, for +I am the daughter of Rameses!” + +“Aye, indeed!” exclaimed Nefert, “and he is himself a God!” + +“But he taught me to respect the laws!” interrupted the princess. “I +discussed another thing with Bek en Chunsu. You know I rejected the suit +of the Regent. He must secretly be much vexed with me. That indeed would +not alarm me, but he is the guardian and protector appointed over me +by my father, and yet can I turn to him in confidence for counsel, +and help? No! I am still a woman, and Rameses’ daughter! Sooner will I +travel through a thousand deserts than humiliate my father through his +child. By to-morrow I shall have decided; but, indeed, I have already +decided to make the journey, hard as it is to leave much that is here. +Do not fear, dear! but you are too tender for such a journey, and to +such a distance; I might--” + +“No, no,” cried Nefert. “I am going, too, if you were going to the four +pillars of heaven, at the limits of the earth. You have given me a new +life, and the little sprout that is green within me would wither again +if I had to return to my mother. Only she or I can be in our house, and +I will re-enter it only with Mena.” + +“It is settled--I must go,” said the princess. “Oh! if only my father +were not so far off, and that I could consult him!” + +“Yes! the war, and always the war!” sighed Nefert. “Why do not men rest +content with what they have, and prefer the quiet peace, which makes +life lovely, to idle fame?” + +“Would they be men? should we love them?” cried Bent-Anat eagerly. “Is +not the mind of the Gods, too, bent on war? Did you ever see a more +sublime sight than Pentaur, on that evening when he brandished the stake +he had pulled up, and exposed his life to protect an innocent girl who +was in danger?” + +“I dared not once look down into the court,” said Nefert. “I was in such +an agony of mind. But his loud cry still rings in my ears.” + +“So rings the war cry of heroes before whom the enemy quails!” exclaimed +Bent-Anat. + +“Aye, truly so rings the war cry!” said prince Rameri, who had entered +his sister’s half-dark room unperceived by the two women. + +The princess turned to the boy. “How you frightened me!” she said. + +“You!” said Rameri astonished. + +“Yes, me. I used to have a stout heart, but since that evening I +frequently tremble, and an agony of terror comes over me, I do not know +why. I believe some demon commands me.” + +“You command, wherever you go; and no one commands you,” cried Rameri. +“The excitement and tumult in the valley, and on the quay, still agitate +you. I grind my teeth myself when I remember how they turned me out +of the school, and how Paaker set the dog at us. I have gone through a +great deal today too.” + +“Where were you so long?” asked Bent-Anat. “My uncle Ani commanded that +you should not leave the palace.” + +“I shall be eighteen years old next month,” said the prince, “and need +no tutor.” + +“But your father--” said Bent-Anat. + +“My father”--interrupted the boy, “he little knows the Regent. But I +shall write to him what I have today heard said by different people. +They were to have sworn allegiance to Ani at that very feast in the +valley, and it is quite openly said that Ani is aiming at the throne, +and intends to depose the king. You are right, it is madness--but there +must be something behind it all.” + +Nefert turned pale, and Bent-Anat asked for particulars. The prince +repeated all he had gathered, and added laughing: “Ani depose my father! +It is as if I tried to snatch the star of Isis from the sky to light the +lamps--which are much wanted here.” + +“It is more comfortable in the dark,” said Nefert. “No, let us have +lights,” said Bent-Anat. “It is better to talk when we can see each +other face to face. I have no belief in the foolish talk of the people; +but you are right--we must bring it to my fathers knowledge.” + +“I heard the wildest gossip in the City of the Dead,” said Rameri. + +“You ventured over there? How very wrong!” + +“I disguised myself a little, and I have good news for you. Pretty Uarda +is much better. She received your present, and they have a house of +their own again. Close to the one that was burnt down, there was a +tumbled-down hovel, which her father soon put together again; he is a +bearded soldier, who is as much like her as a hedgehog is like a white +dove. I offered her to work in the palace for you with the other girls, +for good wages, but she would not; for she has to wait on her sick +grandmother, and she is proud, and will not serve any one.” + +“It seems you were a long time with the paraschites’ people,” said +Bent-Anat reprovingly. “I should have thought that what has happened to +me might have served you as a warning.” + +“I will not be better than you!” cried the boy. “Besides, the +paraschites is dead, and Uarda’s father is a respectable soldier, who +can defile no one. I kept a long way from the old woman. To-morrow I am +going again. I promised her.” + +“Promised who?” asked his sister. + +“Who but Uarda? She loves flowers, and since the rose which you gave +her she has not seen one. I have ordered the gardener to cut me a basket +full of roses to-morrow morning, and shall take them to her myself.” + +“That you will not!” cried Bent-Anat. “You are still but half a +child--and, for the girl’s sake too, you must give it up.” + +“We only gossip together,” said the prince coloring, “and no one shall +recognize me. But certainly, if you mean that, I will leave the basket +of roses, and go to her alone. No--sister, I will not be forbidden this; +she is so charming, so white, so gentle, and her voice is so soft and +sweet! And she has little feet, as small as--what shall I say?--as small +and graceful as Nefert’s hand. We talked most about Pentaur. She knows +his father, who is a gardener, and knows a great deal about him. Only +think! she says the poet cannot be the son of his parents, but a good +spirit that has come down on earth--perhaps a God. At first she was very +timid, but when I spoke of Pentaur she grew eager; her reverence for him +is almost idolatry--and that vexed me.” + +“You would rather she should reverence you so,” said Nefert smiling. + +“Not at all,” cried Rameri. “But I helped to save her, and I am so happy +when I am sitting with her, that to-morrow, I am resolved, I will put +a flower in her hair. It is red certainly, but as thick as yours, +Bent-Anat, and it must be delightful to unfasten it and stroke it.” + +The ladies exchanged a glance of intelligence, and the princess said +decidedly: + +“You will not go to the City of the Dead to-morrow, my little son!” + +“That we will see, my little mother!” He answered laughing; then he +turned grave. + +“I saw my school-friend Anana too,” he said. “Injustice reigns in the +House of Seti! Pentaur is in prison, and yesterday evening they sat in +judgment upon him. My uncle was present, and would have pounced upon the +poet, but Ameni took him under his protection. What was finally decided, +the pupils could not learn, but it must have been something bad, for +the son of the Treasurer heard Ameni saying, after the sitting, to old +Gagabu: ‘Punishment he deserves, but I will not let him be overwhelmed;’ +and he can have meant no one but Pentaur. To-morrow I will go over, +and learn more; something frightful, I am afraid--several years of +imprisonment is the least that will happen to him.” + +Bent-Anat had turned very pale. + +“And whatever they do to him,” she cried, “he will suffer for my sake! +Oh, ye omnipotent Gods, help him--help me, be merciful to us both!” + +She covered her face with her hands, and left the room. Rameri asked +Nefert: + +“What can have come to my sister? she seems quite strange to me; and you +too are not the same as you used to be.” + +“We both have to find our way in new circumstances.” + +“What are they?” + +“That I cannot explain to you!--but it appears to me that you soon may +experience something of the same kind. Rumeri, do not go again to the +paraschites.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +Early on the following clay the dwarf Nemu went past the restored hut of +Uarda’s father--in which he had formerly lived with his wife--with a +man in a long coarse robe, the steward of some noble family. They went +towards old Hekt’s cave-dwelling. + +“I would beg thee to wait down here a moment, noble lord,” said the +dwarf, “while I announce thee to my mother.” + +“That sounds very grand,” said the other. “However, so be it. But stay! +The old woman is not to call me by my name or by my title. She is to +call me ‘steward’--that no one may know. But, indeed, no one would +recognize me in this dress.” + +Nemu hastened to the cave, but before he reached his mother she called +out: “Do not keep my lord waiting--I know him well.” + +Nemu laid his finger to his lips. + +“You are to call him steward,” said he. + +“Good,” muttered the old woman. “The ostrich puts his head under his +feathers when he does not want to be seen.” + +“Was the young prince long with Uarda yesterday?” + +“No, you fool,” laughed the witch, “the children play together. Rameri +is a kid without horns, but who fancies he knows where they ought to +grow. Pentaur is a more dangerous rival with the red-headed girl. Make +haste, now; these stewards must not be kept waiting!” + +The old woman gave the dwarf a push, and he hurried back to Ani, while +she carried the child, tied to his board, into the cave, and threw the +sack over him. + +A few minutes later the Regent stood before her. She bowed before him +with a demeanor that was more like the singer Beki than the sorceress +Hekt, and begged him to take the only seat she possessed. + +When, with a wave of his hand, he declined to sit down, she said: + +“Yes--yes--be seated! then thou wilt not be seen from the valley, but be +screened by the rocks close by. Why hast thou chosen this hour for thy +visit?” + +“Because the matter presses of which I wish to speak,” answered Ani; +“and in the evening I might easily be challenged by the watch. My +disguise is good. Under this robe I wear my usual dress. From this I +shall go to the tomb of my father, where I shall take off this coarse +thing, and these other disfigurements, and shall wait for my chariot, +which is already ordered. I shall tell people I had made a vow to visit +the grave humbly, and on foot, which I have now fulfilled.” + +“Well planned,” muttered the old woman. + +Ani pointed to the dwarf, and said politely: “Your pupil.” + +Since her narrative the sorceress was no longer a mere witch in his +eyes. The old woman understood this, and saluted him with a curtsey of +such courtly formality, that a tame raven at her feet opened his black +beak wide, and uttered a loud scream. She threw a bit of cheese within +the cave, and the bird hopped after it, flapping his clipped wings, and +was silent. + +“I have to speak to you about Pentaur,” said Ani. The old woman’s eyes +flashed, and she eagerly asked, “What of him?” + +“I have reasons,” answered the Regent, “for regarding him as dangerous +to me. He stands in my way. He has committed many crimes, even murder; +but he is in favor at the House of Seti, and they would willingly let +him go unpunished. They have the right of sitting in judgment on each +other, and I cannot interfere with their decisions; the day before +yesterday they pronounced their sentence. They would send him to the +quarries of Chennu. + + [Chennu is now Gebel Silsileh; the quarries there are of enormous + extent, and almost all the sandstone used for building the temples + of Upper Egypt was brought from thence. The Nile is narrower there + than above, and large stela, were erected there by Rameses II. his + successor Mernephtah, on which were inscribed beautiful hymns to the + Nile, and lists of the sacrifices to be offered at the Nile- + festivals. These inscriptions can be restored by comparison, and my + friend Stern and I had the satisfaction of doing this on the spot + (Zeitschrift fur Agyptishe Sprache, 1873, p. 129.)] + +“All my objections were disregarded, and now Nemu, go over to the grave +of Anienophis, and wait there for me--I wish to speak to your mother +alone.” + +Nemu bowed, and then went down the slope, disappointed, it is true, but +sure of learning later what the two had discussed together. + +When the little man had disappeared, Ani asked: + +“Have you still a heart true to the old royal house, to which your +parents were so faithfully attached?” The old woman nodded. + +“Then you will not refuse your help towards its restoration. You +understand how necessary the priesthood is to me, and I have sworn not +to make any attempt on Pentaur’s life; but, I repeat it, he stands in my +way. I have my spies in the House of Seti, and I know through them what +the sending of the poet to Chennu really means. For a time they will let +him hew sandstone, and that will only improve his health, for he is as +sturdy as a tree. In Chennu, as you know, besides the quarries there is +the great college of priests, which is in close alliance with the +temple of Seti. When the flood begins to rise, and they hold the great +Nile-festival in Chennu, the priests there have the right of taking +three of the criminals who are working in the quarries into their house +as servants. Naturally they will, next year, choose Pentaur, set him at +liberty--and I shall be laughed at.” + +“Well considered!” said aid Hekt. + +“I have taken counsel with myself, with Katuti, and even with Nemu,” + continued Ani, “but all that they have suggested, though certainly +practicable, was unadvisable, and at any rate must have led to +conjectures which I must now avoid. What is your opinion?” + +“Assa’s race must be exterminated!” muttered the old woman hoarsely. + +She gazed at the ground, reflecting. + +“Let the boat be scuttled,” she said at last, “and sink with the chained +prisoners before it reaches Chennu.” + +“No-no; I thought of that myself, and Nemu too advised it,” cried Ani. +“That has been done a hundred times, and Ameni will regard me as a +perjurer, for I have sworn not to attempt Pentaur’s life.” + +“To be sure, thou hast sworn that, and men keep their word--to each +other. Wait a moment, how would this do? Let the ship reach Chennu with +the prisoners, but, by a secret order to the captain, pass the quarries +in the night, and hasten on as fast as possible as far as Ethiopia. From +Suan,--[The modern Assuan at the first cataract.]--the prisoners may be +conducted through the desert to the gold workings. Four weeks or even +eight may pass before it is known here what has happened. If Ameni +attacks thee about it, thou wilt be very angry at this oversight, and +canst swear by all the Gods of the heavens and of the abyss, that thou +hast not attempted Pentaur’s life. More weeks will pass in enquiries. +Meanwhile do thy best, and Paaker do his, and thou art king. An oath is +easily broken by a sceptre, and if thou wilt positively keep thy word +leave Pentaur at the gold mines. None have yet returned from thence. My +father’s and my brother’s bones have bleached there.” + +“But Ameni will never believe in the mistake,” cried Ani, anxiously +interrupting the witch. + +“Then admit that thou gavest the order,” exclaimed Hekt. “Explain that +thou hadst learned what they proposed doing with Pentaur at Chennu, and +that thy word indeed was kept, but that a criminal could not be left +unpunished. They will make further enquiries, and if Assa’s grandson +is found still living thou wilt be justified. Follow my advice, if +thou wilt prove thyself a good steward of thy house, and master of its +inheritance.” + +“It will not do,” said the Regent. “I need Ameni’s support--not for +to-day and to-morrow only. I will not become his blind tool; but he must +believe that I am.” + +The old woman shrugged her shoulders, rose, went into her cave, and +brought out a phial. + +“Take this,” she said. “Four drops of it in his wine infallibly destroys +the drinker’s senses; try the drink on a slave, and thou wilt see how +effectual it is.” + +“What shall I do with it?” asked Ani. + +“Justify thyself to Ameni,” said the witch laughing. “Order the ship’s +captain to come to thee as soon as he returns; entertain him with +wine--and when Ameni sees the distracted wretch, why should he not +believe that in a fit of craziness he sailed past Chennu?” + +“That is clever! that is splendid!” exclaimed Ani. “What is once +remarkable never becomes common. You were the greatest of singers--you +are now the wisest of women--my lady Beki.” + +“I am no longer Beki, I am Hekt,” said the old woman shortly. + +“As you will! In truth, if I had ever heard Beki’s singing, I should be +bound to still greater gratitude to her than I now am to Hekt,” said Ani +smiling. “Still, I cannot quit the wisest woman in Thebes without asking +her one serious question. Is it given to you to read the future? +Have you means at your command whereby you can see whether the great +stake--you know which I mean--shall be won or lost?” + +Hekt looked at the ground, and said after reflecting a short time: + +“I cannot decide with certainty, but thy affair stands well. Look at +these two hawks with the chain on their feet. They take their food from +no one but me. The one that is moulting, with closed, grey eyelids, is +Rameses; the smart, smooth one, with shining eyes, is thyself. It +comes to this--which of you lives the longest. So far, thou hast the +advantage.” + +Ani cast an evil glance at the king’s sick hawk; but Hekt said: “Both +must be treated exactly alike. Fate will not be done violence to.” + +“Feed them well,” exclaimed the Regent; he threw a purse into Hekt’s +lap, and added, as he prepared to leave her: “If anything happens to +either of the birds let me know at once by Nemu.” + +Ani went down the hill, and walked towards the neighboring tomb of +his father; but Hekt laughed as she looked after him, and muttered to +herself: + +“Now the fool will take care of me for the sake of his bird! That +smiling, spiritless, indolent-minded man would rule Egypt! Am I then so +much wiser than other folks, or do none but fools come to consult Hekt? +But Rameses chose Ani to represent him! perhaps because he thinks that +those who are not particularly clever are not particularly dangerous. +If that is what he thought, he was not wise, for no one usually is so +self-confident and insolent as just such an idiot.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +An hour later, Ani, in rich attire, left his father’s tomb, and drove +his brilliant chariot past the witch’s cave, and the little cottage of +Uarda’s father. + +Nemu squatted on the step, the dwarf’s usual place. The little man +looked down at the lately rebuilt hut, and ground his teeth, when, +through an opening in the hedge, he saw the white robe of a man, who was +sitting by Uarda. + +The pretty child’s visitor was prince Rameri, who had crossed the Nile +in the early morning, dressed as a young scribe of the treasury, to +obtain news of Pentaur--and to stick a rose into Uarda’s hair. + +This purpose was, indeed, the more important of the two, for the other +must, in point of time at any rate, be the second. + +He found it necessary to excuse himself to his own conscience with +a variety of cogent reasons. In the first place the rose, which lay +carefully secured in a fold of his robe, ran great danger of fading +if he first waited for his companions near the temple of Seti; next, a +hasty return from thence to Thebes might prove necessary; and finally, +it seemed to him not impossible that Bent-Anat might send a master of +the ceremonies after him, and if that happened any delay might frustrate +his purpose. + +His heart beat loud and violently, not for love of the maiden, but +because he felt he was doing wrong. The spot that he must tread was +unclean, and he had, for the first time, told a lie. He had given +himself out to Uarda to be a noble youth of Bent-Anat’s train, and, as +one falsehood usually entails another, in answer to her questions he had +given her false information as to his parents and his life. + +Had evil more power over him in this unclean spot than in the House of +Seti, and at his father’s? It might very well be so, for all disturbance +in nature and men was the work of Seth, and how wild was the storm in +his breast! And yet! He wished nothing but good to come of it to Uarda. +She was so fair and sweet--like some child of the Gods: and certainly +the white maiden must have been stolen from some one, and could not +possibly belong to the unclean people. + +When the prince entered the court of the hut, Uarda was not to be seen, +but he soon heard her voice singing out through the open door. She came +out into the air, for the dog barked furiously at Rameri. When she saw +the prince, she started, and said: + +“You are here already again, and yet I warned you. My grandmother in +there is the wife of a paraschites.” + +“I am not come to visit her,” retorted the prince, “but you only; and +you do not belong to them, of that I am convinced. No roses grow in the +desert.” + +“And yet: am my father’s child,” said Uarda decidedly, “and my poor dead +grandfather’s grandchild. Certainly I belong to them, and those that do +not think me good enough for them may keep away.” + +With these words she turned to re-enter the house; but Rameri seized her +hand, and held her back, saying: + +“How cruel you are! I tried to save you, and came to see you before I +thought that you might--and, indeed, you are quite unlike the people +whom you call your relations. You must not misunderstand me; but it +would be horrible to me to believe that you, who are so beautiful, and +as white as a lily, have any part in the hideous curse. You charm every +one, even my mistress, Bent-Anat, and it seems to me impossible--” + +“That I should belong to the unclean!--say it out,” said Uarda softly, +and casting down her eyes. + +Then she continued more excitedly: “But I tell you, the curse is unjust, +for a better man never lived than my grandfather was.” + +Tears sprang from her eyes, and Rameri said: “I fully believe it; and +it must be very difficult to continue good when every one despises and +scorns one; I at least can be brought to no good by blame, though I +can by praise. Certainly people are obliged to meet me and mine with +respect.” + +“And us with contempt!” exclaimed Uarda. “But I will tell you something. +If a man is sure that he is good, it is all the same to him whether he +be despised or honored by other people. Nay--we may be prouder than you; +for you great folks must often say to yourselves that you are worth less +than men value you at, and we know that we are worth more.” + +“I have often thought that of you,” exclaimed Rameri, “and there is one +who recognizes your worth; and that is I. Even if it were otherwise, I +must always--always think of you.” + +“I have thought of you too,” said Uarda. “Just now, when I was sitting +with my sick grandmother, it passed through my mind how nice it would +be if I had a brother just like you. Do you know what I should do if you +were my brother?” + +“Well?” + +“I should buy you a chariot and horse, and you should go away to the +king’s war.” + +“Are you so rich?” asked Rameri smiling. + +“Oh yes!” answered Uarda. “To be sure, I have not been rich for more +than an hour. Can you read?” + +“Yes.” + +“Only think, when I was ill they sent a doctor to me from the House of +Seti. He was very clever, but a strange man. He often looked into my +eyes like a drunken man, and he stammered when he spoke.” + +“Is his name Nebsecht?” asked the prince. + +“Yes, Nebsecht. He planned strange things with grandfather, and +after Pentaur and you had saved us in the frightful attack upon us he +interceded for us. Since then he has not come again, for I was already +much better. Now to-day, about two hours ago, the dog barked, and an old +man, a stranger, came up to me, and said he was Nebsecht’s brother, and +had a great deal of money in his charge for me. He gave me a ring too, +and said that he would pay the money to him, who took the ring to him +from me. Then he read this letter to me.” + +Rameri took the letter and read. “Nebsecht to the fair Uarda.” + +“Nebsecht greets Uarda, and informs her that he owed her grandfather +in Osiris, Pinem--whose body the kolchytes are embalming like that of +a noble--a sum of a thousand gold rings. These he has entrusted to his +brother Teta to hold ready for her at any moment. She may trust Teta +entirely, for he is honest, and ask him for money whenever she needs it. +It would be best that she should ask Teta to take care of the money for +her, and to buy her a house and field; then she could remove into it, +and live in it free from care with her grandmother. She may wait a year, +and then she may choose a husband. Nebsecht loves Uarda much. If at the +end of thirteen months he has not been to see her, she had better marry +whom she will; but not before she has shown the jewel left her by her +mother to the king’s interpreter.” + +“How strange!” exclaimed Rameri. “Who would have given the singular +physician, who always wore such dirty clothes, credit for such +generosity? But what is this jewel that you have?” + +Uarda opened her shirt, and showed the prince the sparkling ornament. + +“Those are diamonds---it is very valuable!” cried the prince; “and there +in the middle on the onyx there are sharply engraved signs. I cannot +read them, but I will show them to the interpreter. Did your mother wear +that?” + +“My father found it on her when she died,” said Uarda. “She came to +Egypt as a prisoner of war, and was as white as I am, but dumb, so she +could not tell us the name of her home.” + +“She belonged to some great house among the foreigners, and the +children inherit from the mother,” cried the prince joyfully. “You are a +princess, Uarda! Oh! how glad I am, and how much I love you!” + +The girl smiled and said, “Now you will not be afraid to touch the +daughter of the unclean.” + +“You are cruel,” replied the prince. “Shall I tell you what I determined +on yesterday,--what would not let me sleep last night,--and for what I +came here today?” + +“Well?” + +Rameri took a most beautiful white rose out of his robe and said: + +“It is very childish, but I thought how it would be if I might put this +flower with my own hands into your shining hair. May I?” + +“It is a splendid rose! I never saw such a fine one.” + +“It is for my haughty princess. Do pray let me dress your hair! It +is like silk from Tyre, like a swan’s breast, like golden +star-beams--there, it is fixed safely! Nay, leave it so. If the seven +Hathors could see you, they would be jealous, for you are fairer than +all of them.” + +“How you flatter!” said Uarda, shyly blushing, and looking into his +sparkling eyes. + +“Uarda,” said the prince, pressing her hand to his heart. “I have now +but one wish. Feel how my heart hammers and beats. I believe it will +never rest again till you--yes, Uarda--till you let me give you one, +only one, kiss.” + +The girl drew back. + +“Now,” she said seriously. “Now I see what you want. Old Hekt knows men, +and she warned me.” + +“Who is Hekt, and what can she know of me?” + +“She told me that the time would come when a man would try to make +friends with me. He would look into my eyes, and if mine met his, then +he would ask to kiss me. But I must refuse him, because if I liked +him to kiss me he would seize my soul, and take it from me, and I must +wander, like the restless ghosts, which the abyss rejects, and the +storm whirls before it, and the sea will not cover, and the sky will not +receive, soulless to the end of my days. Go away--for I cannot refuse +you the kiss, and yet I would not wander restless, and without a soul!” + +“Is the old woman who told you that a good woman?” asked Rameri. + +Uarda shook her head. + +“She cannot be good,” cried the prince. “For she has spoken a falsehood. +I will not seize your soul; I will give you mine to be yours, and +you shall give me yours to be mine, and so we shall neither of us be +poorer--but both richer!” + +“I should like to believe it,” said Uarda thoughtfully, “and I have +thought the same kind of thing. When I was strong, I often had to go +late in the evening to fetch water from the landing-place where the +great water-wheel stands. Thousands of drops fall from the earthenware +pails as it turns, and in each you can see the reflection of a moon, yet +there is only one in the sky. Then I thought to myself, so it must be +with the love in our hearts. We have but one heart, and yet we pour it +out into other hearts without its losing in strength or in warmth. I +thought of my grandmother, of my father, of little Scherau, of the Gods, +and of Pentaur. Now I should like to give you a part of it too.” + +“Only a part?” asked Rameri. + +“Well, the whole will be reflected in you, you know,” said Uarda, “as +the whole moon is reflected in each drop.” + +“It shall!” cried the prince, clasping the trembling girl in his arms, +and the two young souls were united in their first kiss. + +“Now do go!” Uarda entreated. + +“Let me stay a little while,” said Rameri. “Sit down here by me on the +bench in front of the house. The hedge shelters us, and besides this +valley is now deserted, and there are no passers by.” + +“We are doing what is not right,” said Uarda. “If it were right we +should not want to hide ourselves.” + +“Do you call that wrong which the priests perform in the Holy of +Holies?” asked the prince. “And yet it is concealed from all eyes.” + +“How you can argue!” laughed Uarda. “That shows you can write, and are +one of his disciples.” + +“His, his!” exclaimed Rameri. “You mean Pentaur. He was always the +dearest to me of all my teachers, but it vexes me when you speak of him +as if he were more to you than I and every one else. The poet, you +said, was one of the drops in which the moon of your soul finds a +reflection--and I will not divide it with many.” + +“How you are talking!” said Uarda. “Do you not honor your father, and +the Gods? I love no one else as I do you--and what I felt when you +kissed me--that was not like moon-light, but like this hot mid-day sun. +When I thought of you I had no peace. I will confess to you now, +that twenty times I looked out of the door, and asked whether my +preserver--the kind, curly-headed boy--would really come again, or +whether he despised a poor girl like me? You came, and I am so happy, +and I could enjoy myself with you to my heart’s content. Be kind +again--or I will pull your hair!” + +“You!” cried Rameri. “You cannot hurt with your little hands, though you +can with your tongue. Pentaur is much wiser and better than I, you owe +much to him, and nevertheless I--” + +“Let that rest,” interrupted the girl, growing grave. “He is not a man +like other men. If he asked to kiss me, I should crumble into dust, as +ashes dried in the sun crumble if you touch them with a finger, and +I should be as much afraid of his lips as of a lion’s. Though you may +laugh at it, I shall always believe that he is one of the Immortals. +His own father told me that a great wonder was shown to him the very +day after his birth. Old Hekt has often sent me to the gardener with +a message to enquire after his son, and though the man is rough he is +kind. At first he was not friendly, but when he saw how much I liked +his flowers he grew fond of me, and set me to work to tie wreaths and +bunches, and to carry them to his customers. As we sat together, laying +the flowers side by side, he constantly told me something about his son, +and his beauty and goodness and wisdom. When he was quite a little boy +he could write poems, and he learned to read before any one had shown +him how. The high-priest Ameni heard of it and took him to the House of +Seti, and there he improved, to the astonishment of the gardener; +not long ago I went through the garden with the old man. He talked of +Pentaur as usual, and then stood still before a noble shrub with broad +leaves, and said, My son is like this plant, which has grown up close to +me, and I know not how. I laid the seed in the soil, with others that I +bought over there in Thebes; no one knows where it came from, and yet it +is my own. It certainly is not a native of Egypt; and is not Pentaur as +high above me and his mother and his brothers, as this shrub is above +the other flowers? We are all small and bony, and he is tall and slim; +our skin is dark and his is rosy; our speech is hoarse, his as sweet as +a song. I believe he is a child of the Gods that the Immortals have +laid in my homely house. Who knows their decrees?’ And then I often saw +Pentaur at the festivals, and asked myself which of the other priests +of the temple came near him in height and dignity? I took him for a +God, and when I saw him who saved my life overcome a whole mob with +superhuman strength must I not regard him as a superior Being? I look up +to him as to one of them; but I could never look in his eyes as I do in +yours. It would not make my blood flow faster, it would freeze it in +my veins. How can I say what I mean! my soul looks straight out, and +it finds you; but to find him it must look up to the heavens. You are a +fresh rose-garland with which I crown myself--he is a sacred persea-tree +before which I bow.” + +Rameri listened to her in silence, and then said, “I am still young, and +have done nothing yet, but the time shall come in which you shall +look up to me too as to a tree, not perhaps a sacred tree, but as to a +sycamore under whose shade we love to rest. I am no longer gay; I will +leave you for I have a serious duty to fulfil. Pentaur is a complete +man, and I will be one too. But you shall be the rose-garland to grace +me. Men who can be compared to flowers disgust me!” + +The prince rose, and offered Uarda his hand. + +“You have a strong hand,” said the girl. “You will be a noble man, and +work for good and great ends; only look, my fingers are quite red with +being held so tightly. But they too are not quite useless. They have +never done anything very hard certainly, but what they tend flourishes, +and grandmother says they are ‘lucky.’ Look at the lovely lilies and the +pomegrenate bush in that corner. Grandfather brought the earth here from +the Nile, Pentaur’s father gave me the seeds, and each little plant that +ventured to show a green shoot through the soil I sheltered and nursed +and watered, though I had to fetch the water in my little pitcher, till +it was vigorous, and thanked me with flowers. Take this pomegranate +flower. It is the first my tree has borne; and it is very strange, when +the bud first began to lengthen and swell my grandmother said, ‘Now your +heart will soon begin to bud and love.’ I know now what she meant, and +both the first flowers belong to you--the red one here off the tree, +and the other, which you cannot see, but which glows as brightly as this +does.” + +Rameri pressed the scarlet blossom to his lips, and stretched out his +hand toward Uarda; but she shrank back, for a little figure slipped +through an opening in the hedge. + +It was Scherau. + +His pretty little face glowed with his quick run, and his breath was +gone. For a few minutes he tried in vain for words, and looked anxiously +at the prince. + +Uarda saw that something unusual agitated him; she spoke to him kindly, +saying that if he wished to speak to her alone he need not be afraid of +Rameri, for he was her best friend. + +“But it does not concern you and me,” replied the child, “but the good, +holy father Pentaur, who was so kind to me, and who saved your life.” + +“I am a great friend of Pentaur,” said the prince. “Is it not true, +Uarda? He may speak with confidence before me.” + +“I may?” said Scherau, “that is well. I have slipped away; Hekt may come +back at any moment, and if she sees that I have taken myself off I shall +get a beating and nothing to eat.” + +“Who is this horrible Hekt?” asked Rameri indignantly. + +“That Uarda can tell you by and by,” said the little one hurriedly. “Now +only listen. She laid me on my board in the cave, and threw a sack over +me, and first came Nemu, and then another man, whom she spoke to as +Steward. She talked to him a long time. At first I did not listen, but +then I caught the name of Pentaur, and I got my head out, and now +I understand it all. The steward declared that the good Pentaur was +wicked, and stood in his way, and he said that Ameni was going to +send him to the quarries at Chennu, but that that was much too small +a punishment. Then Hekt advised him to give a secret commission to +the captain of the ship to go beyond Chennu, to the frightful +mountain-mines, of which she has often told me, for her father and her +brother were tormented to death there.” + +“None ever return from thence,” said the prince. “But go on.” + +“What came next, I only half understood, but they spoke of some drink +that makes people mad. Oh! what I see and hear!--I would he contentedly +on my board all my life long, but all else is too horrible--I wish that +I were dead.” + +And the child began to cry bitterly. + +Uarda, whose cheeks had turned pale, patted him affectionately; but +Rameri exclaimed: + +“It is frightful! unheard of! But who was the steward? did you not hear +his name? Collect yourself, little man, and stop crying. It is a case +of life and death. Who was the scoundrel? Did she not name him? Try to +remember.” + +Scherau bit his red lips, and tried for composure. His tears ceased, and +suddenly he exclaimed, as he put his hand into the breast of his ragged +little garment: “Stay, perhaps you will know him again--I made him!” + +“You did what?” asked the prince. + +“I made him,” repeated the little artist, and he carefully brought out +an object wrapped up in a scrap of rag, “I could just see his head quite +clearly from one side all the time he was speaking, and my clay lay by +me. I always must model something when my mind is excited, and this +time I quickly made his face, and as the image was successful, I kept it +about me to show to the master when Hekt was out.” + +While he spoke he had carefully unwrapped the figure with trembling +fingers, and had given it to Uarda. + +“Ani!” cried the prince. “He, and no other! Who could have thought it! +What spite has he against Pentaur? What is the priest to him?” + +For a moment he reflected, then he struck his hand against his forehead. + +“Fool that I am!” he exclaimed vehemently. “Child that I am! of course, +of course; I see it all. Ani asked for Bent-Anat’s hand, and she--now +that I love you, Uarda, I understand what ails her. Away with deceit! I +will tell you no more lies, Uarda. I am no page of honor to Bent-Anat; +I am her brother, and king Rameses’ own son. Do not cover your face with +your hands, Uarda, for if I had not seen your mother’s jewel, and if I +were not only a prince, but Horus himself, the son of Isis, I must have +loved you, and would not have given you up. But now other things have to +be done besides lingering with you; now I will show you that I am a man, +now that Pentaur is to be saved. Farewell, Uarda, and think of me!” + +He would have hurried off, but Scherau held him by the robe, and said +timidly: “Thou sayst thou art Rameses’ son. Hekt spoke of him too. She +compared him to our moulting hawk.” + +“She shall soon feel the talons of the royal eagle,” cried Rameri. “Once +more, farewell!” + +He gave Uarda his hand, she pressed it passionately to her lips, but he +drew it away, kissed her forehead, and was gone. + +The maiden looked after him pale and speechless. She saw another man +hastening towards her, and recognizing him as her father, she went +quickly to meet him. The soldier had come to take leave of her, he had +to escort some prisoners. + +“To Chennu?” asked Uarda. + +“No, to the north,” replied the man. + +His daughter now related what she had heard, and asked whether he could +help the priest, who had saved her. + +“If I had money, if I had money!” muttered the soldier to himself. + +“We have some,” cried Uarda; she told him of Nebsecht’s gift, and said: +“Take me over the Nile, and in two hours you will have enough to make a +man rich. + + [It may be observed that among the Egyptian women were qualified to + own and dispose of property. For example a papyrus (vii) in the + Louvre contains an agreement between Asklepias (called Semmuthis), + the daughter or maid-servant of a corpse-dresser of Thebes, who is + the debtor, and Arsiesis, the creditor, the son of a kolchytes; both + therefore are of the same rank as Uarda.] + +But no; I cannot leave my sick grandmother. You yourself take the ring, +and remember that Pentaur is being punished for having dared to protect +us.” + +“I remember it,” said the soldier. “I have but one life, but I will +willingly give it to save his. I cannot devise schemes, but I know +something, and if it succeeds he need not go to the gold-mines. I will +put the wine-flask aside--give me a drink of water, for the next few +hours I must keep a sober head.” + +“There is the water, and I will pour in a mouthful of wine. Will you +come back and bring me news?” + +“That will not do, for we set sail at midnight, but if some one returns +to you with the ring you will know that what I propose has succeeded.” + +Uarda went into the hut, her father followed her; he took leave of his +sick mother and of his daughter. When they went out of doors again, he +said: “You have to live on the princess’s gift till I return, and I do +not want half of the physician’s present. But where is your pomegranate +blossom?” + +“I have picked it and preserved it in a safe place.” + +“Strange things are women!” muttered the bearded man; he tenderly kissed +his child’s forehead, and returned to the Nile down the road by which he +had come. + +The prince meanwhile had hurried on, and enquired in the harbor of the +Necropolis where the vessel destined for Chennu was lying--for the ships +loaded with prisoners were accustomed to sail from this side of the +river, starting at night. Then he was ferried over the river, and +hastened to Bent-Anat. He found her and Nefert in unusual excitement, +for the faithful chamberlain had learned--through some friends of the +king in Ani’s suite--that the Regent had kept back all the letters +intended for Syria, and among them those of the royal family. + +A lord in waiting, who was devoted to the king, had been encouraged by +the chamberlain to communicate to Bent-Anat other things, which hardly +allowed any doubts as to the ambitious projects of her uncle; she was +also exhorted to be on her guard with Nefert, whose mother was the +confidential adviser of the Regent. + +Bent-Anat smiled at this warning, and sent at once a message to Ani +to inform him that she was ready to undertake the pilgrimage to the +“Emerald-Hathor,” and to be purified in the sanctuary of that Goddess. + +She purposed sending a message to her father from thence, and if he +permitted it, joining him at the camp. + +She imparted this plan to her friend, and Nefert thought any road best +that would take her to her husband. + +Rameri was soon initiated into all this, and in return he told them all +he had learned, and let Bent-Anat guess that he had read her secret. + +So dignified, so grave, were the conduct and the speech of the boy who +had so lately been an overhearing mad-cap, that Bent-Anat thought to +herself that the danger of their house had suddenly ripened a boy into a +man. + +She had in fact no objection to raise to his arrangements. He proposed +to travel after sunset, with a few faithful servants on swift horses as +far as Keft, and from thence ride fast across the desert to the Red Sea, +where they could take a Phoenician ship, and sail to Aila. From thence +they would cross the peninsula of Sinai, and strive to reach the +Egyptian army by forced marches, and make the king acquainted with Ani’s +criminal attempts. + +To Bent-Anat was given the task of rescuing Pentaur, with the help of +the faithful chamberlain. + +Money was fortunately not wanting, as the high treasurer was on their +side. All depended on their inducing the captain to stop at Chennu; the +poet’s fate would there, at the worst, be endurable. At the same time, +a trustworthy messenger was to be sent to the governor of Chennu, +commanding him in the name of the king to detain every ship that might +pass the narrows of Chennu by night, and to prevent any of the prisoners +that had been condemned to the quarries from being smuggled on to +Ethiopia. + +Rameri took leave of the two women, and he succeeded in leaving Thebes +unobserved. + +Bent-Anat knelt in prayer before the images of her mother in Osiris, +of Hathor, and of the guardian Gods of her house, till the chamberlain +returned, and told her that he had persuaded the captain of the ship to +stop at Chennu, and to conceal from Ani that he had betrayed his charge. + +The princess breathed more freely, for she had come to a resolution that +if the chamberlain had failed in his mission, she would cross over +to the Necropolis forbid the departure of the vessel, and in the last +extremity rouse the people, who were devoted to her, against Ani. + +The following morning the Lady Katuti craved permission of the princess +to see her daughter. Bent-Anat did not show herself to the widow, whose +efforts failed to keep her daughter from accompanying the princess on +her journey, or to induce her to return home. Angry and uneasy, the +indignant mother hastened to Ani, and implored him to keep Nefert at +home by force; but the Regent wished to avoid attracting attention, and +to let Bent-Anat set out with a feeling of complete security. + +“Do not be uneasy,” he said. “I will give the ladies a trustworthy +escort, who will keep them at the Sanctuary of the ‘Emerald-Hathor’ till +all is settled. There you can deliver Nefert to Paaker, if you still +like to have him for a son-in-law after hearing several things that I +have learned. As for me, in the end I may induce my haughty niece to +look up instead of down; I may be her second love, though for that +matter she certainly is not my first.” + +On the following day the princess set out. + +Ani took leave of her with kindly formality, which she returned with +coolness. The priesthood of the temple of Amon, with old Bek en Chunsu +at their head, escorted her to the harbor. The people on the banks +shouted Bent-Anat’s name with a thousand blessings, but many insulting +words were to be heard also. + +The pilgrim’s Nile-boat was followed by two others, full of soldiers, +who accompanied the ladies “to protect them.” + +The south-wind filled the sails, and carried the little procession +swiftly down the stream. The princess looked now towards the palace of +her fathers, now towards the tombs and temples of the Necropolis. At +last even the colossus of Anienophis disappeared, and the last houses +of Thebes. The brave maiden sighed deeply, and tears rolled down her +checks. She felt as if she were flying after a lost battle, and yet not +wholly discouraged, but hoping for future victory. As she turned to go +to the cabin, a veiled girl stepped up to her, took the veil from her +face, and said: “Pardon me, princess; I am Uarda, whom thou didst run +over, and to whom thou hast since been so good. My grandmother is dead, +and I am quite alone. I slipped in among thy maid-servants, for I wish +to follow thee, and to obey all thy commands. Only do not send me away.” + +“Stay, dear child,” said the princess, laying her hand on her hair. + +Then, struck by its wonderful beauty, she remembered her brother, and +his wish to place a rose in Uarda’s shining tresses. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +Two months had past since Bent-Anat’s departure from Thebes, and the +imprisonment of Pentaur. Ant-Baba is the name of the valley, in the +western half of the peninsula of Sinai, + + [I have described in detail the peninsula of Sinai, its history, and + the sacred places on it, in my book “Durch Gosen zum Sinai,” + published in 1872. In depicting this scenery in the present + romance, I have endeavored to reproduce the reality as closely as + possible. He who has wandered through this wonderful mountain + wilderness can never forget it. The valley now called “Laba,” bore + the same name in the time of the Pharaohs.] + +through which a long procession of human beings, and of beasts of +burden, wended their way. + +It was winter, and yet the mid-day sun sent down glowing rays, which +were reflected from the naked rocks. In front of the caravan marched a +company of Libyan soldiers, and another brought up the rear. Each man +was armed with a dagger and battle-axe, a shield and a lance, and +was ready to use his weapons; for those whom they were escorting were +prisoners from the emerald-mines, who had been convoyed to the shores of +the Red Sea to carry thither the produce of the mines, and had received, +as a return-load, provisions which had arrived from Egypt, and which +were to be carried to the storehouses of the mountain mines. Bent and +panting, they made their way along. Each prisoner had a copper chain +riveted round his ankles, and torn rags hanging round their loins, were +the only clothing of these unhappy beings, who, gasping under the weight +of the sacks they had to carry, kept their staring eyes fixed on the +ground. If one of them threatened to sink altogether under his burden, +he was refreshed by the whip of one of the horsemen, who accompanied the +caravan. Many a one found it hard to choose whether he could best endure +the suffering of mere endurance, or the torture of the lash. + +No one spoke a word, neither the prisoners nor their guards; and even +those who were flogged did not cry out, for their powers were exhausted, +and in the souls of their drivers there was no more impulse of pity +than there was a green herb on the rocks by the way. This melancholy +procession moved silently onwards, like a procession of phantoms, and +the ear was only made aware of it when now and then a low groan broke +from one of the victims. + +The sandy path, trodden by their naked feet, gave no sound, the +mountains seemed to withhold their shade, the light of clay was a +torment--every thing far and near seemed inimical to the living. Not a +plant, not a creeping thing, showed itself against the weird forms +of the barren grey and brown rocks, and no soaring bird tempted the +oppressed wretches to raise their eyes to heaven. + +In the noontide heat of the previous day they had started with their +loads from the harbor-creek. For two hours they had followed the shore +of the glistening, blue-green sea, + + [The Red Sea--in Hebrew and Coptic the reedy sea--is of a lovely + blue green color. According to the Ancients it was named red either + from its red banks or from the Erythraeans, who were called the red + people. On an early inscription it is called “the water of the Red + country.” See “Durch Gosen zum Sinai.”] + +then they had climbed a rocky shoulder and crossed a small plateau. They +had paused for their night’s rest in the gorge which led to the mines; +the guides and soldiers lighted fires, grouped themselves round them, +and lay down to sleep under the shelter of a cleft in the rocks; the +prisoners stretched themselves on the earth in the middle of the +valley without any shelter, and shivering with the cold which suddenly +succeeded the glowing heat of the day. The benumbed wretches now looked +forward to the crushing misery of the morning’s labor as eagerly as, a +few hours since, they had longed for the night, and for rest. + +Lentil-broth and hard bread in abundance, but a very small quantity of +water was given to them before they started; then they set out through +the gorge, which grew hotter and hotter, and through ravines where they +could pass only one by one. Every now and then it seemed as if the +path came to an end, but each time it found an outlet, and went on--as +endless as the torment of the wayfarers. + +Mighty walls of rock composed the view, looking as if they were formed +of angular masses of hewn stone piled up in rows; and of all the +miners one, and one only, had eyes for these curious structures of the +ever-various hand of Nature. + +This one had broader shoulders than his companions, and his burden +Weighed on him comparatively lightly. “In this solitude,” thought he, +“which repels man, and forbids his passing his life here, the Chnemu, +the laborers who form the world, have spared themselves the trouble of +filling up the seams, and rounding off the corners. How is it that Man +should have dedicated this hideous land--in which even the human heart +seems to be hardened against all pity--to the merciful Hathor? Perhaps +because it so sorely stands in need of the joy and peace which the +loving goddess alone can bestow.” + +“Keep the line, Huni!” shouted a driver. + +The man thus addressed, closed up to the next man, the panting leech +Nebsecht. We know the other stronger prisoner. It is Pentaur, who had +been entered as Huni on the lists of mine-laborers, and was called by +that name. The file moved on; at every step the ascent grew more rugged. +Red and black fragments of stone, broken as small as if by the hand of +man, lay in great heaps, or strewed the path which led up the almost +perpendicular cliff by imperceptible degrees. Here another gorge opened +before them, and this time there seemed to be no outlet. + +“Load the asses less!” cried the captain of the escort to the prisoners. +Then he turned to the soldiers, and ordered them, when the beasts were +eased, to put the extra burthens on the men. Putting forth their +utmost strength, the overloaded men labored up the steep and hardly +distinguishable mountain path. + +The man in front of Pentaur, a lean old man, when half way up the +hill-side, fell in a heap under his load, and a driver, who in a narrow +defile could not reach the bearers, threw a stone at him to urge him to +a renewed effort. + +The old man cried out at the blow, and at the cry--the paraschites +stricken down with stones--his own struggle with the mob--and the +appearance of Bent Anat flashed into Pentaur’s memory. Pity and a sense +of his own healthy vigor prompted him to energy; he hastily snatched the +sack from the shoulders of the old man, threw it over his own, helped up +the fallen wretch, and finally men and beasts succeeded in mounting the +rocky wall. + +The pulses throbbed in Pentaur’s temples, and he shuddered with horror, +as he looked down from the height of the pass into the abyss below, and +round upon the countless pinnacles and peaks, cliffs and precipices, +in many-colored rocks-white and grey, sulphurous yellow, blood-red and +ominous black. He recalled the sacred lake of Muth in Thebes, round +which sat a hundred statues of the lion-headed Goddess in black basalt, +each on a pedestal; and the rocky peaks, which surrounded the valley +at his feet, seemed to put on a semblance of life and to move and +open their yawning jaws; through the wild rush of blood in his ears he +fancied he heard them roar, and the load beyond his strength which he +carried gave him a sensation as though their clutch was on his breast. + +Nevertheless he reached the goal. + +The other prisoners flung their loads from their shoulders, and threw +themselves down to rest. Mechanically he did the same: his pulses beat +more calmly, by degrees the visions faded from his senses, he saw and +heard once more, and his brain recovered its balance. The old man and +Nebsecht were lying beside him. + +His grey-haired companion rubbed the swollen veins in his neck, and +called down all the blessings of the Gods upon his head; but the captain +of the caravan cut him short, exclaiming: + +“You have strength for three, Huni; farther on, we will load you more +heavily.” + +“How much the kindly Gods care for our prayers for the blessing of +others!” exclaimed Nebsecht. “How well they know how to reward a good +action!” + +“I am rewarded enough,” said Pentaur, looking kindly at the old man. +“But you, you everlasting scoffer--you look pale. How do you feel?” + +“As if I were one of those donkeys there,” replied the naturalist. “My +knees shake like theirs, and I think and I wish neither more nor less +than they do; that is to say--I would we were in our stalls.” + +“If you can think,” said Pentaur smiling, “you are not so very bad.” + +“I had a good thought just now, when you were staring up into the sky. +The intellect, say the priestly sages, is a vivifying breath of the +eternal spirit, and our soul is the mould or core for the mass of matter +which we call a human being. I sought the spirit at first in the heart, +then in the brain; but now I know that it resides in the arms and legs, +for when I have strained them I find thought is impossible. I am too +tired to enter on further evidence, but for the future I shall treat my +legs with the utmost consideration.” + +“Quarrelling again you two? On again, men!” cried the driver. + +The weary wretches rose slowly, the beasts were loaded, and on went the +pitiable procession, so as to reach the mines before sunset. + +The destination of the travellers was a wide valley, closed in by two +high and rocky mountain-slopes; it was called Ta Mafka by the Egyptians, +Dophka by the Hebrews. The southern cliff-wall consisted of dark +granite, the northern of red sandstone; in a distant branch of the +valley lay the mines in which copper was found. In the midst of the +valley rose a hill, surrounded by a wall, and crowned with small stone +houses, for the guard, the officers, and the overseers. According to the +old regulations, they were without roofs, but as many deaths and much +sickness had occurred among the workmen in consequence of the cold +nights, they had been slightly sheltered with palm-branches brought from +the oasis of the Alnalckites, at no great distance. + +On the uttermost peak of the hill, where it was most exposed to the +wind, were the smelting furnaces, and a manufactory where a peculiar +green glass was prepared, which was brought into the market under the +name of Mafkat, that is to say, emerald. The genuine precious stone was +found farther to the south, on the western shore of the Red Sea, and was +highly prized in Egypt. + +Our friends had already for more than a month belonged to the +mining-community of the Mafkat valley, and Pentaur had never learned +how it was that he had been brought hither with his companion Nebsecht, +instead of going to the sandstone quarries of Chennu. + +That Uarda’s father had effected this change was beyond a doubt, and the +poet trusted the rough but honest soldier who still kept near him, and +gave him credit for the best intentions, although he had only spoken to +him once since their departure from Thebes. + +That was the first night, when he had come up to Pentaur, and whispered: +“I am looking after you. You will find the physician Nebsecht here; but +treat each other as enemies rather than as friends, if you do not wish +to be parted.” + +Pentaur had communicated the soldier’s advice to Nebsecht, and he had +followed it in his own way. + +It afforded him a secret pleasure to see how Pentaur’s life contradicted +the belief in a just and beneficent ordering of the destinies of men; +and the more he and the poet were oppressed, the more bitter was the +irony, often amounting to extravagance, with which the mocking sceptic +attacked him. + +He loved Pentaur, for the poet had in his keeping the key which alone +could give admission to the beautiful world which lay locked up in his +own soul; but yet it was easy to him, if he thought they were observed, +to play his part, and to overwhelm Pentaur with words which, to the +drivers, were devoid of meaning, and which made them laugh by the +strange blundering fashion in which he stammered them out. + +“A belabored husk of the divine self-consciousness.” “An advocate of +righteousness hit on the mouth.” “A juggler who makes as much of this +worst of all possible worlds as if it were the best.” “An admirer of the +lovely color of his blue bruises.” These and other terms of invective, +intelligible only to himself and his butt, he could always pour out in +new combinations, exciting Pentaur to sharp and often witty rejoinders, +equally unintelligible to the uninitiated. + +Frequently their sparring took the form of a serious discussion, which +served a double purpose; first their minds, accustomed to serious +thought, found exercise in spite of the murderous pressure of the burden +of forced labor, and secondly, they were supposed really to be enemies. +They slept in the same court-yard, and contrived, now and then, to +exchange a few words in secret; but by day Nebsecht worked in the +turquoise-diggings, and Pentaur in the mines, for the careful chipping +out of the precious stones from their stony matrix was the work best +suited to the slight physician, while Pentaur’s giant-strength was +fitted for hewing the ore out of the hard rock. The drivers often looked +in surprise at his powerful strokes, as he flung his pick against the +stone. + +The stupendous images that in such moments of wild energy rose before +the poet’s soul, the fearful or enchanting tones that rang in his +spirit’s ear-none could guess at. + +Usually his excited fancy showed him the form of Bent-Anat, surrounded +by a host of men--and these he seemed to fell to the earth, one-by-one, +as-he hewed the rock. Often in the middle of his work he would stop, +throw down his pick-axe, and spread out his arms--but only to drop them +with a deep groan, and wipe the sweat from his brow. + +The overseers did not know what to think of this powerful youth, who +often was as gentle as a child, and then seemed possessed of that demon +to which so many of the convicts fell victims. He had indeed become a +riddle to himself; for how was it that he--the gardener’s son, brought +up in the peaceful temple of Seti--ever since that night by the house +of the paraschites had had such a perpetual craving for conflict and +struggle? + +The weary gangs were gone to rest; a bright fire still blazed in front +of the house of the superintendent of the mines, and round it squatted +in a circle the overseers and the subalterns of the troops. + +“Put the wine-jar round again,” said the captain, “for we must hold +grave council. Yesterday I had orders from the Regent to send half the +guard to Pelusium. He requires soldiers, but we are so few in number +that if the convicts knew it they might make short work of us, even +without arms. There are stones enough hereabouts, and by day they have +their hammer and chisel. Things are worst among the Hebrews in the +copper-mines; they are a refractory crew that must be held tight. You +know me well, fear is unknown to me--but I feel great anxiety. The last +fuel is now burning in this fire, and the smelting furnaces and the +glass-foundry must not stand idle. Tomorrow we must send men to Raphidim + + [The oasis at the foot of Horeb, where the Jews under Joshua’s + command conquered the Amalekites, while Aaron and Hur held up Moses’ + arms. Exodus 17, 8.] + +to obtain charcoal from the Amalekites. They owe us a hundred loads +still. Load the prisoners with some copper, to make them tired and the +natives civil. What can we do to procure what we want, and yet not to +weaken the forces here too much?” + +Various opinions were given, and at last it was settled that a small +division, guarded by a few soldiers, should be sent out every day to +supply only the daily need for charcoal. + +It was suggested that the most dangerous of the convicts should be +fettered together in pairs to perform their duties. + +The superintendent was of opinion that two strong men fettered together +would be more to be feared if only they acted in concert. + +“Then chain a strong one to a weak one,” said the chief accountant of +the mines, whom the Egyptians called the ‘scribe of the metals.’ “And +fetter those together who are enemies.” + +“The colossal Huni, for instance, to that puny spat row, the stuttering +Nebsecht,” said a subaltern. + +“I was thinking of that very couple,” said the accountant laughing. + +Three other couples were selected, at first with some laughter, but +finally with serious consideration, and Uarda’s father was sent with the +drivers as an escort. + +On the following morning Pentaur and Nebsecht were fettered together +with a copper chain, and when the sun was at its height four pairs of +prisoners, heavily loaded with copper, set out for the Oasis of the +Amalekites, accompanied by six soldiers and the son of the paraschites, +to fetch fuel for the smelting furnaces. + +They rested near the town of Alus, and then went forward again between +bare walls of greyish-green and red porphyry. These cliffs rose higher +and higher, but from time to time, above the lower range, they could see +the rugged summit of some giant of the range, though, bowed under their +heavy loads, they paid small heed to it. + +The sun was near setting when they reached the little sanctuary of the +‘Emerald-Hathor.’ + +A few grey and black birds here flew towards them, and Pentaur gazed at +them with delight. + +How long he had missed the sight of a bird, and the sound of their chirp +and song! Nebsecht said: “There are some birds--we must be near water.” + +And there stood the first palm-tree! + +Now the murmur of the brook was perceptible, and its tiny sound touched +the thirsty souls of the travellers as rain falls on dry grass. + +On the left bank of the stream an encampment of Egyptian soldiers formed +a large semicircle, enclosing three large tents made of costly material +striped with blue and white, and woven with gold thread. Nothing was to +be seen of the inhabitants of these tents, but when the prisoners +had passed them, and the drivers were exchanging greetings with the +out-posts, a girl, in the long robe of an Egyptian, came towards them, +and looked at them. + +Pentaur started as if he had seen a ghost; but Nebsecht gave expression +to his astonishment in a loud cry. + +At the same instant a driver laid his whip across their shoulders, and +cried laughing: + +“You may hit each other as hard as you like with words, but not with +your hands.” + +Then he turned to his companions, and said: “Did you see the pretty girl +there, in front of the tent?” + +“It is nothing to us!” answered the man he addressed. “She belongs to +the princess’s train. She has been three weeks here on a visit to the +holy shrine of Hathor.” + +“She must have committed some heavy sin,” replied the other. “If she +were one of us, she would have been set to sift sand in the diggings, +or grind colors, and not be living here in a gilt tent. Where is our +red-beard?” + +Uarda’s father had lingered a little behind the party, for the girl had +signed to him, and exchanged a few words with him. + +“Have you still an eye for the fair ones?” asked the youngest of the +drivers when he rejoined the gang. + +“She is a waiting maid of the princess,” replied the soldier not without +embarrassment. “To-morrow morning we are to carry a letter from her to +the scribe of the mines, and if we encamp in the neighborhood she will +send us some wine for carrying it.” + +“The old red-beard scents wine as a fox scents a goose. Let us encamp +here; one never knows what may be picked up among the Mentu, and the +superintendent said we were to encamp outside the oasis. Put down your +sacks, men! Here there is fresh water, and perhaps a few dates and sweet +Manna for you to eat with it. + + [“Man” is the name still given by the Bedouins of Sinai to the sweet + gum which exudes from the Tamarix mannifera. It is the result of + the puncture of an insect, and occurs chiefly in May. By many it is + supposed to be the Manna of the Bible.] + +But keep the peace, you two quarrelsome fellows--Huni and Nebsecht.” + +Bent-Anat’s journey to the Emerald-Hathor was long since ended. As far +as Keft she had sailed down the Nile with her escort, from thence she +had crossed the desert by easy marches, and she had been obliged to wait +a full week in the port on the Red Sea, which was chiefly inhabited +by Phoenicians, for a ship which had finally brought her to the little +seaport of Pharan. From Pharan she had crossed the mountains to the +oasis, where the sanctuary she was to visit stood on the northern side. + +The old priests, who conducted the service of the Goddess, had received +the daughter of Rameses with respect, and undertook to restore her to +cleanness by degrees with the help of the water from the mountain-stream +which watered the palm-grove of the Amalekites, of incense-burning, of +pious sentences, and of a hundred other ceremonies. At last the Goddess +declared herself satisfied, and Bent-Anat wished to start for the north +and join her father, but the commander of the escort, a grey-headed +Ethiopian field officer--who had been promoted to a high grade by +Ani--explained to the Chamberlain that he had orders to detain the +princess in the oasis until her departure was authorized by the Regent +himself. + +Bent-Anat now hoped for the support of her father, for her brother +Rameri, if no accident had occurred to him, might arrive any day. But in +vain. + +The position of the ladies was particularly unpleasant, for they felt +that they had been caught in a trap, and were in fact prisoners. In +addition to this their Ethiopian escort had quarrelled with the +natives of the oasis, and every day skirmishes took place under their +eyes--indeed lately one of these fights had ended in bloodshed. + +Bent-Anat was sick at heart. The two strong pinions of her soul, which +had always borne her so high above other women--her princely pride and +her bright frankness--seemed quite broken; she felt that she had loved +once, never to love again, and that she, who had sought none of her +happiness in dreams, but all in work, had bestowed the best half of her +identity on a vision. Pentaur’s image took a more and more vivid, and at +the same time nobler and loftier, aspect in her mind; but he himself had +died for her, for only once had a letter reached them from Egypt, and +that was from Katuti to Nefert. After telling her that late intelligence +established the statement that her husband had taken a prince’s +daughter, who had been made prisoner, to his tent as his share of the +booty, she added the information that the poet Pentaur, who had been +condemned to forced labor, had not reached the mountain mines, but, as +was supposed, had perished on the road. + +Nefert still held to her immovable belief that her husband was faithful +to his love for her, and the magic charm of a nature made beautiful by +its perfect mastery over a deep and pure passion made itself felt in +these sad and heavy days. + +It seemed as though she had changed parts with Bent-Anat. Always +hopeful, every day she foretold help from the king for the next; in +truth she was ready to believe that, when Mena learned from Rameri that +she was with the princess, he himself would come to fetch them if his +duties allowed it. In her hours of most lively expectation she could go +so far as to picture how the party in the tents would be divided, and +who would bear Bent-Anat company if Mena took her with him to his camp, +on what spot of the oasis it would be best to pitch it, and much more in +the same vein. + +Uarda could very well take her place with Bent-Anat, for the child +had developed and improved on the journey. The rich clothes which the +princess had given her became her as if she had never worn any others; +she could obey discreetly, disappear at the right moment, and, when she +was invited, chatter delightfully. Her laugh was silvery, and nothing +consoled Bent-Anat so much as to hear it. + +Her songs too pleased the two friends, though the few that she knew were +grave and sorrowful. She had learned them by listening to old Hekt, who +often used to play on a lute in the dusk, and who, when she perceived +that Uarda caught the melodies, had pointed out her faults, and given +her advice. + +“She may some day come into my hands,” thought the witch, “and the +better she sings, the better she will be paid.” + +Bent-Anat too tried to teach Uarda, but learning to read was not easy to +the girl, however much pains she might take. Nevertheless, the princess +would not give up the spelling, for here, at the foot of the immense +sacred mountain at whose summit she gazed with mixed horror and longing, +she was condemned to inactivity, which weighed the more heavily on her +in proportion as those feelings had to be kept to herself which she +longed to escape from in work. Uarda knew the origin of her mistress’s +deep grief, and revered her for it, as if it were something sacred. +Often she would speak of Pentaur and of his father, and always in such a +manner that the princess could not guess that she knew of their love. + +When the prisoners were passing Bent-Anat’s tent, she was sitting within +with Nefert, and talking, as had become habitual in the hours of dusk, +of her father, of Mena, Rameri, and Pentaur. + +“He is still alive,” asserted Nefert. “My mother, you see, says that no +one knows with certainty what became of him. If he escaped, he beyond +a doubt tried to reach the king’s camp, and when we get there you will +find him with your father.” + +The princess looked sadly at the ground. Nefert looked affectionately at +her, and asked: + +“Are you thinking of the difference in rank which parts you from the man +you have chosen?” + +“The man to whom I offer my hand, I put in the rank of a prince,” said +Bent-Anat. “But if I could set Pentaur on a throne, as master of the +world, he would still be greater and better than I.” + +“But your father?” asked Nefert doubtfully. + +“He is my friend, he will listen to me and understand me. He shall know +everything when I see him; I know his noble and loving heart.” + +Both were silent for some time; then Bent-Anat spoke: + +“Pray have lights brought, I want to finish my weaving.” + +Nefert rose, went to the door of the tent, and there met Uarda; she +seized Nefert’s hand, and silently drew her out into the air. + +“What is the matter, child? you are trembling,” Nefert exclaimed. + +“My father is here,” answered Uarda hastily. “He is escorting some +prisoners from the mines of Mafkat. Among them there are two chained +together, and one of them--do not be startled--one of them is the poet +Pentaur. Stop, for God’s sake, stop, and hear me. Twice before I have +seen my father when he has been here with convicts. To-day we must +rescue Pentaur; but the princess must know nothing of it, for if my plan +fails--” + +“Child! girl!” interrupted Nefert eagerly. “How can I help you?” + +“Order the steward to give the drivers of the gang a skin of wine in the +name of the princess, and out of Bent-Anat’s case of medicines take the +phial which contains the sleeping draught, which, in spite of your wish, +she will not take. I will wait here, and I know how to use it.” + +Nefert immediately found the steward, and ordered him to follow Uarda +with a skin of wine. Then she went back to the princess’s tent, and +opened the medicine case. + + [A medicine case, belonging to a more ancient period than the reign + of Rameses, is preserved in the Berlin Museum.] + +“What do you want?” asked Bent-Anat. + +“A remedy for palpitation,” replied Nefert; she quietly took the flask +she needed, and in a few minutes put it into Uarda’s hand. + +The girl asked the steward to open the wine-skin, and let her taste the +liquor. While she pretended to drink it, she poured the whole contents +of the phial into the wine, and then let Bent-Anat’s bountiful present +be carried to the thirsty drivers. + +She herself went towards the kitchen tent, and found a young Amalekite +sitting on the ground with the princess’s servants. He sprang up as soon +as he saw the damsel. + +“I have brought four fine partridges,” + + [A brook springs on the peak called by the Sinaitic monks Mr. St. + Katherine, which is called the partridge’s spring, and of which many + legends are told. For instance, God created it for the partridges + which accompanied the angels who carried St. Katharine of Alexandria + to her tomb on Sinai.] + +he said, “which I snared myself, and I have brought this turquoise for +you--my brother found it in a rock. This stone brings good luck, and is +good for the eyes; it gives victory over our enemies, and keeps away bad +dreams.” + +“Thank you!” said Uarda, and taking the boy’s hand, as he gave her the +sky-blue stone, she led him forward into the dusk. + +“Listen, Salich” she said softly, as soon as she thought they were far +enough from the others. “You are a good boy, and the maids told me that +you said I was a star that had come down from the sky to become a woman. +No one says such a thing as that of any one they do not like very +much; and I know you like me, for you show me that you do every day by +bringing me flowers, when you carry the game that your father gets to +the steward. Tell me, will you do me and the princess too a very great +service? Yes?--and willingly? Yes? I knew you would! Now listen. A +friend of the great lady Bent-Anat, who will come here to-night, must +be hidden for a day, perhaps several days, from his pursuers. Can he, +or rather can they, for there will probably be two, find shelter and +protection in your father’s house, which lies high up there on the +sacred mountain?” + +“Whoever I take to my father,” said the boy, “will be made welcome; +and we defend our guests first, and then ourselves. Where are the +strangers?” + +“They will arrive in a few hours. Will you wait here till the moon is +well up?” + +“Till the last of all the thousand moons that vanish behind the hills is +set.” + +“Well then, wait on the other side of the stream, and conduct the man to +your house, who repeats my name three times. You know my name?” + +“I call you Silver-star, but the others call you Uarda.” + +“Lead the strangers to your hut, and, if they are received there by your +father, come back and tell me. I will watch for you here at the door of +the tent. I am poor, alas! and cannot reward you, but the princess will +thank your father as a princess should. Be watchful, Salich!” + +The girl vanished, and went to the drivers of the gang of prisoners, +wished them a merry and pleasant evening, and then hastened back to +Bent-Anat, who anxiously stroked her abundant hair, and asked her why +she was so pale. + +“Lie down,” said the princess kindly, “you are feverish. Only look, +Nefert, I can see the blood coursing through the blue veins in her +forehead.” + +Meanwhile the drivers drank, praised the royal wine, and the lucky +day on which they drank it; and when Uarda’s father suggested that the +prisoners too should have a mouthful one of his fellow soldiers cried: +“Aye, let the poor beasts be jolly too for once.” + +The red-beard filled a large beaker, and offered it first to a forger +and his fettered companion, then he approached Pentaur, and whispered: + +“Do not drink any-keep awake!” + +As he was going to warn the physician too, one of his companions came +between them, and offering his tankard to Nebsecht said: + +“Here mumbler, drink; see him pull! His stuttering mouth is spry enough +for drinking!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +The hours passed gaily with the drinkers, then they grew more and more +sleepy. + +Ere the moon was high in the heavens, while they were all sleeping, +with the exception of Kaschta and Pentaur, the soldier rose softly. +He listened to the breathing of his companions, then he approached the +poet, unfastened the ring which fettered his ankle to that of Nebsecht, +and endeavored to wake the physician, but in vain. + +“Follow me!” cried he to the poet; he took Nebsecht on his shoulders, +and went towards the spot near the stream which Uarda had indicated. +Three times he called his daughter’s name, the young Amalekite appeared, +and the soldier said decidedly: “Follow this man, I will take care of +Nebsecht.” + +“I will not leave him,” said Pentaur. “Perhaps water will wake him.” + They plunged him in the brook, which half woke him, and by the help of +his companions, who now pushed and now dragged him, he staggered and +stumbled up the rugged mountain path, and before midnight they reached +their destination, the hut of the Amalekite. + +The old hunter was asleep, but his son aroused him, and told him what +Uarda had ordered and promised. + +But no promises were needed to incite the worthy mountaineer to +hospitality. He received the poet with genuine friendliness, laid the +sleeping leech on a mat, prepared a couch for Pentaur of leaves and +skins, called his daughter to wash his feet, and offered him his own +holiday garment in the place of the rags that covered his body. + +Pentaur stretched himself out on the humble couch, which to him seemed +softer than the silken bed of a queen, but on which nevertheless he +could not sleep, for the thoughts and fancies that filled his heart were +too overpowering and bewildering. + +The stars still sparkled in the heavens when he sprang from his bed of +skins, lifted Nebsecht on to it, and rushed out into the open air. A +fresh mountain spring flowed close to the hunter’s hut. He went to it, +and bathed his face in the ice-cold water, and let it flow over his body +and limbs. He felt as if he must cleanse himself to his very soul, +not only from the dust of many weeks, but from the rebellion and +despondency, the ignominy and bitterness, and the contact with vice and +degradation. When at last he left the spring, and returned to the little +house, he felt clean and fresh as on the morning of a feast-day at +the temple of Seti, when he had bathed and dressed himself in robes of +snow-white linen. He took the hunter’s holiday dress, put it on, and +went out of doors again. + +The enormous masses of rock lay dimly before him, like storm-clouds, and +over his head spread the blue heavens with their thousand stars. + +The soothing sense of freedom and purity raised his soul, and the air +that he breathed was so fresh and light, that he sprang up the path +to the summit of the peak as if he were borne on wings or carried by +invisible hands. + +A mountain goat which met him, turned from him, and fled bleating, with +his mate, to a steep peak of rock, but Pentaur said to the frightened +beasts: + +“I shall do nothing to you--not I!” + +He paused on a little plateau at the foot of the jagged granite peak +of the mountain. Here again he heard the murmur of a spring, the grass +under his feet was damp, and covered with a film of ice, in which were +mirrored the stars, now gradually fading. He looked up at the lights in +the sky, those never-tarrying, and yet motionless wanderers-away, to +the mountain heights around him-down, into the gorge below--and far off, +into the distance. + +The dusk slowly grew into light, the mysterious forms of the +mountain-chain took shape and stood up with their shining points, the +light clouds were swept away like smoke. Thin vapors rose from the oasis +and the other valleys at his feet, at first in heavy masses, then they +parted and were wafted, as if in sport, above and beyond him to the +sky. Far below him soared a large eagle, the only living creature far or +near. + +A solemn and utter silence surrounded him, and when the eagle swooped +down and vanished from his sight, and the mist rolled lower into the +valley, he felt that here, alone, he was high above all other living +beings, and standing nearer to the Divinity. + +He drew his breath fully and deeply, he felt as he had felt in the first +hours after his initiation, when for the first time he was admitted to +the holy of holies--and yet quite different. + +Instead of the atmosphere loaded with incense, he breathed a light pure +air; and the deep stillness of the mountain solitude possessed his soul +more strongly than the chant of the priests. + +Here, it seemed to him, that the Divine being would hear the lightest +murmur of his lips, though indeed his heart was so full of gratitude and +devotion that his impulse was to give expression to his mighty flow of +feelings in jubilant song. But his tongue seemed tied; he knelt down in +silence, to pray and to praise. + +Then he looked at the panorama round him. Where was the east which in +Egypt was clearly defined by the long Nile range? Down there where it +was beginning to be light over the oasis. To his right hand lay the +south, the sacred birth-place of the Nile, the home of the Gods of +the Cataracts; but here flowed no mighty stream, and where was there a +shrine for the visible manifestation of Osiris and Isis; of Horns, born +of a lotus flower in a thicket of papyrus; of Rennut, the Goddess of +blessings, and of Zeta? To which of them could he here lift his hands in +prayer? + +A faint breeze swept by, the mist vanished like a restless shade at the +word of the exorcist, the many-pointed crown of Sinai stood out in +sharp relief, and below them the winding valleys, and the dark colored +rippling surface of the lake, became distinctly visible. + +All was silent, all untouched by the hand of man yet harmonized to +one great and glorious whole, subject to all the laws of the universe, +pervaded and filled by the Divinity. + +He would fain have raised his hand in thanksgiving to Apheru, “the Guide +on the way;” but he dared not; and how infinitely small did the Gods +now seem to him, the Gods he had so often glorified to the multitude +in inspired words, the Gods that had no meaning, no dwelling-place, no +dominion but by the Nile. + +“To ye,” he murmured, “I cannot pray! Here where my eye can pierce the +distance, as if I myself were a god-here I feel the presence of the One, +here He is near me and with me--I will call upon Him and praise him!” + +And throwing up his arms he cried aloud: “Thou only One! Thou only One! +Thou only One!” He said no more; but a tide of song welled up in his +breast as he spoke--a flood of thankfulness and praise. + +When he rose from his knees, a man was standing by him; his eyes were +piercing and his tall figure had the dignity of a king, in spite of his +herdsman’s dress. + +“It is well for you!” said the stranger in deep slow accents. “You seek +the true God.” + +Pentaur looked steadily into the face of the bearded man before him. + +“I know you now,” he said. “You are Mesu.--[Moses]--I was but a boy when +you left the temple of Seti, but your features are stamped on my soul. +Ameni initiated me, as well as you, into the knowledge of the One God.” + +“He knows Him not,” answered the other, looking thoughtfully to the +eastern horizon, which every moment grew brighter. + +The heavens glowed with purple, and the granite peaks, each sheathed +in a film of ice, sparkled and shone like dark diamonds that had been +dipped in light. + +The day-star rose, and Pentaur turned to it, and prostrated himself as +his custom was. When he rose, Mesu also was kneeling on the earth, but +his back was turned to the sun. + +When he had ended his prayer, Pentaur said, “Why do you turn your back +on the manifestation of the Sun-god? We were taught to look towards him +when he approaches.” + +“Because I,” said his grave companion, “pray to another God than +yours. The sun and stars are but as toys in his hand, the earth is his +foot-stool, the storm is his breath, and the sea is in his sight as the +drops on the grass.” + +“Teach me to know the Mighty One whom you worship!” exclaimed Pentaur. + +“Seek him,” said Mesu, “and you will find him; for you have passed +through misery and suffering, and on this spot on such a morning as this +was He revealed to me.” + +The stranger turned away, and disappeared behind a rock from the +enquiring gaze of Pentaur, who fixed his eyes on the distance. + +Then he thoughtfully descended the valley, and went towards the hut +of the hunter. He stayed his steps when he heard men’s voices, but the +rocks hid the speakers from his sight. + +Presently he saw the party approaching; the son of his host, a man +in Egyptian dress, a lady of tall stature, near whom a girl tripped +lightly, and another carried in a litter by slaves. + +Pentaur’s heart beat wildly, for he recognized Bent-Anat and her +companions. They disappeared by the hunter’s cottage, but he stood +still, breathing painfully, spell-bound to the cliff by which he +stood--a long, long time--and did not stir. + +He did not hear a light step, that came near to him, and died away +again, he did not feel that the sun began to cast fierce beams on him, +and on the porphyry cliff behind him, he did not see a woman now coming +quickly towards him; but, like a deaf man who has suddenly acquired the +sense of hearing, he started when he heard his name spoken--by whose +lips? + +“Pentaur!” she said again; the poet opened his arms, and Bent-Anat fell +upon his breast; and he held her to him, clasped, as though he must hold +her there and never part from her all his life long. + +Meanwhile the princess’s companions were resting by the hunter’s little +house. + +“She flew into his arms--I saw it,” said Uarda. “Never shall I forget +it. It was as if the bright lake there had risen up to embrace the +mountain.” + +“Where do you find such fancies, child?” cried Nefert. + +“In my heart, deep in my heart!” cried Uarda. “I am so unspeakably +happy.” + +“You saved him and rewarded him for his goodness; you may well be +happy.” + +“It is not only that,” said Uarda. “I was in despair, and now I see that +the Gods are righteous and loving.” + +Mena’s wife nodded to her, and said with a sigh: + +“They are both happy!” + +“And they deserve to be!” exclaimed Uarda. “I fancy the Goddess of Truth +is like Bent-Anat, and there is not another man in Egypt like Pentaur.” + +Nefert was silent for awhile; then she asked softly: “Did you ever see +Mena?” + +“How should I?” replied the girl. “Wait a little while, and your +turn will come. I believe that to-day I can read the future like a +prophetess. But let us see if Nebsecht lies there, and is still asleep. +The draught I put into the wine must have been strong.” + +“It was,” answered Nefert, following her into the hut. + +The physician was still lying on the bed, and sleeping with his mouth +wide open. Uarda knelt down by his side, looked in his face, and said: + +“He is clever and knows everything, but how silly he looks now! I will +wake him.” + +She pulled a blade of grass out of the heap on which he was lying, and +saucily tickled his nose. + +Nebsecht raised himself, sneezed, but fell back asleep again; Uarda +laughed out with her clear silvery tones. Then she blushed--“That is not +right,” she said, “for he is good and generous.” + +She took the sleeper’s hand, pressed it to her lips, and wiped the drops +from his brow. Then he awoke, opened his eyes, and muttered half in a +dream still: + +“Uarda--sweet Uarda.” + +The girl started up and fled, and Nefert followed her. + +When Nebsecht at last got upon his feet and looked round him, he found +himself alone in a strange house. He went out of doors, where he found +Bent-Anat’s little train anxiously discussing things past and to come. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +The inhabitants of the oasis had for centuries been subject to the +Pharaohs, and paid them tribute; and among the rights granted to them +in return, no Egyptian soldier might cross their border and territory +without their permission. + +The Ethiopians had therefore pitched Bent-Anat’s tents and their own +camp outside these limits; but various transactions soon took place +between the idle warriors and the Amalekites, which now and then led to +quarrels, and which one evening threatened serious consequences, when +some drunken soldiers had annoyed the Amalekite women while they were +drawing water. + +This morning early one of the drivers on awaking had missed Pentaur and +Nebsecht, and he roused his comrades, who had been rejoined by Uarda’s +father. The enraged guard of the gang of prisoners hastened to the +commandant of the Ethiopians, and informed him that two of his prisoners +had escaped, and were no doubt being kept in concealment by the +Amalekites. + +The Amalekites met the requisition to surrender the fugitives, of whom +they knew nothing, with words of mockery, which so enraged the officer +that he determined to search the oasis throughout by force, and when he +found his emissaries treated with scorn he advanced with the larger part +of his troops on to the free territory of the Amalekites. + +The sons of the desert flew to arms; they retired before the close order +of the Egyptian troops, who followed them, confident of victory, to a +point where the valley widens and divides on each side of a rocky +hill. Behind this the larger part of the Amalekite forces were lying in +ambush, and as soon as the unsuspicious Ethiopians had marched past +the hill, they threw themselves on the rear of the astonished invaders, +while those in front turned upon them, and flung lances and arrows at +the soldiers, of whom very few escaped. + +Among them, however, was the commanding officer, who, foaming with rage +and only slightly wounded, put himself at the head of the remainder +of Bent-Anat’s body-guard, ordered the escort of the prisoners also to +follow him, and once more advanced into the oasis. + +That the princess might escape him had never for an instant occurred to +him, but as soon as the last of her keepers had disappeared, Bent-Anat +explained to her chamberlain and her companions that now or never was +the moment to fly. + +All her people were devoted to her; they loaded themselves with the most +necessary things for daily use, took the litters and beasts of burden +with them, and while the battle was raging in the valley, Salich guided +them up the heights of Sinai to his father’s house. + +It was on the way thither that Uarda had prepared the princess for the +meeting she might expect at the hunter’s cottage, and we have seen how +and where the princess found the poet. + +Hand in hand they wandered together along the mountain path till they +came to a spot shaded by a projection of the rock, Pentaur pulled some +moss to make a seat, they reclined on it side by side, and there opened +their hearts, and told each other of their love and of their sufferings, +their wanderings and escapes. + +At noonday the hunter’s daughter came to offer them a pitcher full of +goat’s milk, and Bent-Anat filled the gourd again and again for the man +she loved; and waiting upon him thus, her heart overflowed with pride, +and his with the humble desire to be permitted to sacrifice his blood +and life for her. + +Hitherto they had been so absorbed in the present and the past, that +they had not given a thought to the future, and while they repeated a +hundred times what each had long since known, and yet could never tire +of hearing, they forgot the immediate changes which was hanging over +them. + +After their humble meal, the surging flood of feeling which, ever since +his morning devotions, had overwhelmed the poet’s soul, grew calmer; he +had felt as if borne through the air, but now he set foot, so to speak, +on the earth again, and seriously considered with Bent-Anat what steps +they must take in the immediate future. + +The light of joy, which beamed in their eyes, was little in accordance +with the grave consultation they held, as, hand in hand, they descended +to the hut of their humble host. + +The hunter, guided by his daughter, met them half way, and with him a +tall and dignified man in the full armor of a chief of the Amalekites. + +Both bowed and kissed the earth before Bent-Anat and Pentaur. They +had heard that the princess was detained in the oasis by force by the +Ethiopian troops, and the desert-prince, Abocharabos, now informed them, +not without pride, that the Ethiopian soldiers, all but a few who were +his prisoners, had been exterminated by his people; at the same time +he assured Pentaur, whom he supposed to be a son of the king, and +Bent-Anat, that he and his were entirely devoted to the Pharaoh Rameses, +who had always respected their rights. + +“They are accustomed,” he added, “to fight against the cowardly dogs of +Kush; but we are men, and we can fight like the lions of our wilds. If +we are outnumbered we hide like the goats in clefts of the rocks.” + +Bent-Anat, who was pleased with the daring man, his flashing eyes, +his aquiline nose, and his brown face which bore the mark of a bloody +sword-cut, promised him to commend him and his people to her father’s +favor, and told him of her desire to proceed as soon as possible to the +king’s camp under the protection of Pentaur, her future husband. + +The mountain chief had gazed attentively at Pentaur and at Bent-Anat +while she spoke; then he said: “Thou, princess, art like the moon, and +thy companion is like the Sun-god Dusare. Besides Abocharabos,” and he +struck his breast, “and his wife, I know no pair that are like you two. +I myself will conduct you to Hebron with some of my best men of war. But +haste will be necessary, for I must be back before the traitor who now +rules over Mizraim,--[The Semitic name of Egypt]--and who persecutes +you, can send fresh forces against us. Now you can go down again to the +tents, not a hen is missing. To-morrow before daybreak we will be off.” + +At the door of the hut Pentaur was greeted by the princess’s companions. + +The chamberlain looked at him not without anxious misgiving. + +The king, when he departed, had, it is true, given him orders to obey +Bent-Anat in every particular, as if she were the queen herself; but her +choice of such a husband was a thing unheard of, and how would the king +take it? + +Nefert rejoiced in the splendid person of the poet, and frequently +repeated that he was as like her dead uncle--the father of Paaker, the +chief-pioneer--as if he were his younger brother. + +Uarda never wearied of contemplating him and her beloved princess. +She no longer looked upon him as a being of a higher order; but the +happiness of the noble pair seemed to her an embodied omen of happiness +for Nefert’s love--perhaps too for her own. + +Nebsecht kept modestly in the background. The headache, from which he +had long been suffering, had disappeared in the fresh mountain air. When +Pentaur offered him his hand he exclaimed: + +“Here is an end to all my jokes and abuse! A strange thing is this fate +of men. Henceforth I shall always have the worst of it in any dispute +with you, for all the discords of your life have been very prettily +resolved by the great master of harmony, to whom you pray.” + +“You speak almost as if you were sorry; but every thing will turn out +happily for you too.” + +“Hardly!” replied the surgeon, “for now I see it clearly. Every man is +a separate instrument, formed even before his birth, in an occult +workshop, of good or bad wood, skilfully or unskilfully made, of this +shape or the other; every thing in his life, no matter what we call it, +plays upon him, and the instrument sounds for good or evil, as it is +well or ill made. You are an AEolian harp--the sound is delightful, +whatever breath of fate may touch it; I am a weather-cock--I turn +whichever way the wind blows, and try to point right, but at the same +time I creak, so that it hurts my own ears and those of other people. I +am content if now and then a steersman may set his sails rightly by +my indication; though after all, it is all the same to me. I will turn +round and round, whether others look at me or no--What does it signify?” + +When Pentaur and the princess took leave of the hunter with many gifts, +the sun was sinking, and the toothed peaks of Sinai glowed like rubies, +through which shone the glow of half a world on fire. + +The journey to the royal camp was begun the next morning. Abocharabos, +the Amalekite chief, accompanied the caravan, to which Uarda’s father +also attached himself; he had been taken prisoner in the struggle with +the natives, but at Bent-Anat’s request was set at liberty. + +At their first halting place he was commanded to explain how he had +succeeded in having Pentaur taken to the mines, instead of to the +quarries of Chennu. + +“I knew,” said the soldier in his homely way, “from Uarda where this +man, who had risked his life for us poor folks, was to be taken, and +I said to myself--I must save him. But thinking is not my trade, and +I never can lay a plot. It would very likely have come to some violent +act, that would have ended badly, if I had not had a hint from another +person, even before Uarda told me of what threatened Pentaur. This is +how it was. + +“I was to convoy the prisoners, who were condemned to work in the Mafkat +mines, across the river to the place they start from. In the harbor of +Thebes, on the other side, the poor wretches were to take leave of their +friends; I have seen it a hundred times, and I never can get used to it, +and yet one can get hardened to most things! Their loud cries, and wild +howls are not the worst--those that scream the most I have always found +are the first to get used to their fate; but the pale ones, whose lips +turn white, and whose teeth chatter as if they were freezing, and whose +eyes stare out into vacancy without any tears--those go to my heart. +There was all the usual misery, both noisy and silent. But the man I was +most sorry for was one I had known for a long time; his name was Huni, +and he belonged to the temple of Amon, where he held the place of +overseer of the attendants on the sacred goat. I had often met him +when I was on duty to watch the laborers who were completing the great +pillared hall, and he was respected by every one, and never failed in +his duty. Once, however, he had neglected it; it was that very night +which you all will remember when the wolves broke into the temple, +and tore the rams, and the sacred heart was laid in the breast of the +prophet Rui. Some one, of course, must be punished, and it fell on poor +Huni, who for his carelessness was condemned to forced labor in the +mines of Mafkat. His successor will keep a sharp look out! No one came +to see him off, though I know he had a wife and several children. He +was as pale as this cloth, and was one of the sort whose grief eats into +their heart. I went up to him, and asked him why no one came with him. +He had taken leave of them at home, he answered, that his children might +not see him mixed up with forgers and murderers. Eight poor little brats +were left unprovided for with their mother, and a little while before a +fire had destroyed everything they possessed. There was not a crumb to +stop their little squalling mouths. He did not tell me all this straight +out; a word fell from him now and then, like dates from a torn sack. I +picked it up bit by bit, and when he saw I felt for him he grew fierce +and said: ‘They may send me to the gold mines or cut me to pieces, +as far as I am concerned, but that the little ones should starve +that--that,’ and he struck his forehead. Then I left him to say good bye +to Uarda, and on the way I kept repeating to myself ‘that-that,’ and saw +before me the man and his eight brats. If I were rich, thought I, there +is a man I would help. When I got to the little one there, she told me +how much money the leech Nebsecht had given her, and offered to give it +me to save Pentaur; then it passed through my mind--that may go to Hum’s +children, and in return he will let himself be shipped off to Ethiopia. +I ran to the harbor, spoke to the man, found him ready and willing, gave +the money to his wife, and at night when the prisoners were shipped I +contrived the exchange Pentaur came with me on my boat under the name of +the other, and Huni went to the south, and was called Pentaur. I had not +deceived the man into thinking he would stop at Chennu. I told him he +would be taken on to Ethiopia, for it is always impossible to play a man +false when you know it is quite easy to do it. It is very strange! It is +a real pleasure to cheat a cunning fellow or a sturdy man, but who would +take in a child or a sick person? Huni certainly would have gone +into the fire-pots of hell without complaining, and he left me quite +cheerfully. The rest, and how we got here, you yourselves know. In Syria +at this time of year you will suffer a good deal from rain. I know the +country, for I have escorted many prisoners of war into Egypt, and I was +there five years with the troops of the great Mohar, father of the chief +pioneer Paaker.” + +Bent-Anat thanked the brave fellow, and Pentaur and Nebsecht continued +the narrative. + +“During the voyage,” said Nebsecht, “I was uneasy about Pentaur, for I +saw how he was pining, but in the desert he seemed to rouse himself, +and often whispered sweet little songs that he had composed while we +marched.” + +“That is strange,” said Bent-Anat, “for I also got better in the +desert.” + +“Repeat the verses on the Beytharan plant,” said Nebsecht. + +“Do you know the plant?” asked the poet. “It grows here in many places; +here it is. Only smell how sweet it is if you bruise the fleshy stem and +leaves. My little verse is simple enough; it occurred to me like many +other songs of which you know all the best.” + +“They all praise the same Goddess,” said Nebsecht laughing. + +“But let us have the verses,” said Bent-Anat. The poet repeated in a low +voice: + + “How often in the desert I have seen + The small herb, Beytharan, in modest green! + In every tiny leaf and gland and hair + Sweet perfume is distilled, and scents the air. + How is it that in barren sandy ground + This little plant so sweet a gift has found? + And that in me, in this vast desert plain, + The sleeping gift of song awakes again?” + +“Do you not ascribe to the desert what is due to love?” said Nefert. + +“I owe it to both; but I must acknowledge that the desert is a wonderful +physician for a sick soul. We take refuge from the monotony that +surrounds us in our own reflections; the senses are at rest; and here, +undisturbed and uninfluenced from without, it is given to the mind to +think out every train of thought to the end, to examine and exhaust +every feeling to its finest shades. In the city, one is always a mere +particle in a great whole, on which one is dependent, to which one +must contribute, and from which one must accept something. The solitary +wanderer in the desert stands quite alone; he is in a manner freed from +the ties which bind him to any great human community; he must fill up +the void by his own identity, and seek in it that which may give his +existence significance and consistency. Here, where the present retires +into the background, the thoughtful spirit finds no limits however +remote.” + +“Yes; one can think well in the desert,” said Nebsecht. “Much has become +clear to me here that in Egypt I only guessed at.” + +“What may that be?” asked Pentaur. + +“In the first place,” replied Nebsecht, “that we none of us really know +anything rightly; secondly that the ass may love the rose, but the +rose will not love the ass; and the third thing I will keep to myself, +because it is my secret, and though it concerns all the world no one +would trouble himself about it. My lord chamberlain, how is this? You +know exactly how low people must bow before the princess in proportion +to their rank, and have no idea how a back-bone is made.” + +“Why should I?” asked the chamberlain. “I have to attend to outward +things, while you are contemplating inward things; else your hair might +be smoother, and your dress less stained.” + +The travellers reached the old Cheta city of Hebron without accident; +there they took leave of Abocharabos, and under the safe escort of +Egyptian troops started again for the north. At Hebron Pentaur parted +from the princess, and Bent-Anat bid him farewell without complaining. + +Uarda’s father, who had learned every path and bridge in Syria, +accompanied the poet, while the physician Nebsecht remained with the +ladies, whose good star seemed to have deserted them with Pentaur’s +departure, for the violent winter rains which fell in the mountains of +Samaria destroyed the roads, soaked through the tents, and condemned +them frequently to undesirable delays. At Megiddo they were received +with high honors by the commandant of the Egyptian garrison, and they +were compelled to linger here some days, for Nefert, who had been +particularly eager to hurry forward, was taken ill, and Nebsecht was +obliged to forbid her proceeding at this season. + +Uarda grew pale and thoughtful, and Bent-Anat saw with anxiety that the +tender roses were fading from the cheeks of her pretty favorite; but +when she questioned her as to what ailed her she gave an evasive answer. +She had never either mentioned Rameri’s name before the princess, nor +shown her her mother’s jewel, for she felt as if all that had passed +between her and the prince was a secret which did not belong to her +alone. Yet another reason sealed her lips. She was passionately devoted +to Bent-Anat, and she told herself that if the princess heard it all, +she would either blame her brother or laugh at his affection as at +a child’s play, and she felt as if in that case she could not love +Rameri’s sister any more. + +A messenger had been sent on from the first frontier station to the +king’s camp to enquire by which road the princess, and her party should +leave Megiddo. But the emissary returned with a short and decided though +affectionate letter written by the king’s own hand, to his daughter, +desiring her not to quit Megiddo, which was a safe magazine and arsenal +for the army, strongly fortified and garrisoned, as it commanded +the roads from the sea into North and Central Palestine. Decisive +encounters, he said, were impending, and she knew that the Egyptians +always excluded their wives and daughters from their war train, and +regarded them as the best reward of victory when peace was obtained. + +While the ladies were waiting in Megiddo, Pentaur and his red-bearded +guide proceeded northwards with a small mounted escort, with which they +were supplied by the commandant of Hebron. + +He himself rode with dignity, though this journey was the first occasion +on which he had sat on horseback. He seemed to have come into the world +with the art of riding born with him. As soon as he had learned from his +companions how to grasp the bridle, and had made himself familiar with +the nature of the horse, it gave him the greatest delight to tame and +subdue a fiery steed. + +He had left his priest’s robes in Egypt. Here he wore a coat of mail, +a sword, and battle-axe like a warrior, and his long beard, which had +grown during his captivity, now flowed down over his breast. Uarda’s +father often looked at him with admiration, and said: + +“One might think the Mohar, with whom I often travelled these roads, had +risen from the dead. He looked like you, he spoke like you, he called +the men as you do, nay he sat as you do when the road was too bad for +his chariot, + + [The Mohars used chariots in their journeys. This is positively + known from the papyrus Anastasi I. which vividly describes the + hardships experienced by a Mohar while travelling through Syria.] + +and he got on horseback, and held the reins.” + +None of Pentaur’s men, except his red-bearded friend, was more to him +than a mere hired servant, and he usually preferred to ride alone, apart +from the little troop, musing on the past--seldom on the future--and +generally observing all that lay on his way with a keen eye. They soon +reached Lebanon; between it and and Lebanon a road led through the great +Syrian valley. It rejoiced him to see with his own eyes the distant +shimmer of the white snow-capped peaks, of which he had often heard +warriors talk. + +The country between the two mountain ranges was rich and fruitful, and +from the heights waterfalls and torrents rushed into the valley. Many +villages and towns lay on his road, but most of them had been damaged +in the war. The peasants had been robbed of their teams of cattle, the +flocks had been driven off from the shepherds, and when a vine-dresser, +who was training his vine saw the little troop approaching, he fled to +the ravines and forests. + +The traces of the plough and the spade were everywhere visible, but the +fields were for the most part not sown; the young peasants were under +arms, the gardens and meadows were trodden down by soldiers, the houses +and cottages plundered and destroyed, or burnt. Everything bore the +trace of the devastation of the war, only the oak and cedar forests +lorded it proudly over the mountain-slopes, planes and locust-trees +grew in groves, and the gorges and rifts of the thinly-wooded limestone +hills, which bordered the fertile low-land, were filled with evergreen +brushwood. + +At this time of year everything was moist and well-watered, and Pentaur +compared the country with Egypt, and observed how the same results were +attained here as there, but by different agencies. He remembered that +morning on Sinai, and said to himself again: “Another God than ours +rules here, and the old masters were not wrong who reviled godless +strangers, and warned the uninitiated, to whom the secret of the One +must remain unrevealed, to quit their home.” + +The nearer he approached the king’s camp, the more vividly he thought +of Bent-Anat, and the faster his heart beat from time to time when +he thought of his meeting with the king. On the whole he was full of +cheerful confidence, which he felt to be folly, and which nevertheless +he could not repress. + +Ameni had often blamed him for his too great diffidence and his want of +ambition, when he had willingly let others pass him by. He remembered +this now, and smiled and understood himself less than ever, for +though he resolutely repeated to himself a hundred times that he was +a low-born, poor, and excommunicated priest, the feeling would not be +smothered that he had a right to claim Bent-Anat for his own. + +And if the king refused him his daughter--if he made him pay for his +audacity with his life? + +Not an eyelash, he well knew, would tremble under the blow of the axe, +and he would die content; for that which she had granted him was his, +and no God could take it from him! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +Once or twice Pentaur and his companions had had to defend themselves +against hostile mountaineers, who rushed suddenly upon them out of the +woods. When they were about two days’ journey still from the end of +their march, they had a bloody skirmish with a roving band of men that +seemed to belong to a larger detachment of troops. + +The nearer they got to Kadesh, the more familiar Kaschta showed himself +with every stock and stone, and he went forward to obtain information; +he returned somewhat anxious, for he had perceived the main body of the +Cheta army on the road which they must cross. How came the enemy here in +the rear of the Egyptian army? Could Rameses have sustained a defeat? + +Only the day before they had met some Egyptian soldiers, who had told +them that the king was staying in the camp, and a great battle was +impending. This however could not have by this time been decided, and +they had met no flying Egyptians. + +“If we can only get two miles farther without having to fight,” said +Uarda’s father. “I know what to do. Down below, there is a ravine, and +from it a path leads over hill and vale to the plain of Kadesh. No one +ever knew it but the Mohar and his most confidential servants. About +half-way there is a hidden cave, in which we have often stayed the +whole day long. The Cheta used to believe that the Mohar possessed magic +powers, and could make himself invisible, for when they lay in wait for +us on the way we used suddenly to vanish; but certainly not into the +clouds, only into the cave, which the Mohar used to call his Tuat. If +you are not afraid of a climb, and will lead your horse behind you for a +mile or two, I can show you the way, and to-morrow evening we will be at +the camp.” + +Pentaur let his guide lead the way; they came, without having occasion +to fight, as far as the gorge between the hills, through which a full +and foaming mountain torrent rushed to the valley. Kaschta dropped from +his horse, and the others did the same. After the horses had passed +through the water, he carefully effaced their tracks as far as the road, +then for about half a mile he ascended the valley against the stream. +At last he stopped in front of a thick oleander-bush, looked carefully +about, and lightly pushed it aside; when he had found an entrance, +his companions and their weary scrambling beasts followed him without +difficulty, and they presently found themselves in a grove of lofty +cedars. Now they had to squeeze themselves between masses of rock, now +they labored up and down over smooth pebbles, which offered scarcely +any footing to the horses’ hoofs; now they had to push their way +through thick brushwood, and now to cross little brooks swelled by the +winter-rains. + +The road became more difficult at every step, then it began to grow +dark, and heavy drops of rain fell from the clouded sky. + +“Make haste, and keep close to me,” cried Kaschta. “Half an hour more, +and we shall be under shelter, if I do not lose my way.” + +Then a horse broke down, and with great difficulty was got up again; +the rain fell with increased violence, the night grew darker, and the +soldier often found himself brought to a stand-still, feeling for the +path with his hands; twice he thought he had lost it, but he would not +give in till he had recovered the track. At last he stood still, and +called Pentaur to come to him. + +“Hereabouts,” said he, “the cave must be; keep close to me--it is +possible that we may come upon some of the pioneer’s people. Provisions +and fuel were always kept here in his father’s time. Can you see me? +Hold on to my girdle, and bend your head low till I tell you you may +stand upright again. Keep your axe ready, we may find some of the Cheta +or bandits roosting there. You people must wait, we will soon call you +to come under shelter.” + +Pentaur closely followed his guide, pushing his way through the dripping +brushwood, crawling through a low passage in the rock, and at last +emerging on a small rocky plateau. + +“Take care where you are going!” cried Kaschta. “Keep to the left, to +the right there is a deep abyss. I smell smoke! Keep your hand on your +axe, there must be some one in the cave. Wait! I will fetch the men as +far as this.” + +The soldier went back, and Pentaur listened for any sounds that might +come from the same direction as the smoke. He fancied he could perceive +a small gleam of light, and he certainly heard quite plainly, first +a tone of complaint, then an angry voice; he went towards the light, +feeling his way by the wall on his left; the light shone broader and +brighter, and seemed to issue from a crack in a door. + +By this time the soldier had rejoined Pentaur, and both listened for a +few minutes; then the poet whispered to his guide: + +“They are speaking Egyptian, I caught a few words.” + +“All the better,” said Kaschta. “Paaker or some of his people are in +there; the door is there still, and shut. If we give four hard and +three gentle knocks, it will be opened. Can you understand what they are +saying?” + +“Some one is begging to be set free,” replied Pentaur, “and speaks of +some traitor. The other has a rough voice, and says he must follow his +master’s orders. Now the one who spoke before is crying; do you hear? He +is entreating him by the soul of his father to take his fetters off. How +despairing his voice is! Knock, Kaschta--it strikes me we are come at +the right moment--knock, I say.” + +The soldier knocked first four times, then three times. A shriek rang +through the cave, and they could hear a heavy, rusty bolt drawn back, +the roughly hewn door was opened, and a hoarse voice asked: + +“Is that Paaker?” + +“No,” answered the soldier, “I am Kaschta. Do not you know me again, +Nubi?” + +The man thus addressed, who was Paaker’s Ethiopian slave, drew back in +surprise. + +“Are you still alive?” he exclaimed. “What brings you here?” + +“My lord here will tell you,” answered Kaschta as he made way for +Pentaur to enter the cave. The poet went up to the black man, and the +light of the fire which burned in the cave fell full on his face. + +The old slave stared at him, and drew back in astonishment and terror. +He threw himself on the earth, howled like a dog that fawns at the feet +of his angry master, and cried out: + +“He ordered it--Spirit of my master! he ordered it.” Pentaur stood +still, astounded and incapable of speech, till he perceived a young man, +who crept up to him on his hands and feet, which were bound with thongs, +and who cried to him in a tone, in which terror was mingled with a +tenderness which touched Pentaur’s very soul. + +“Save me--Spirit of the Mohar! save me, father!” Then the poet spoke. + +“I am no spirit of the dead,” said he. “I am the priest Pentaur; and I +know you, boy; you are Horus, Paaker’s brother, who was brought up with +me in the temple of Seti.” + +The prisoner approached him trembling, looked at him enquiringly and +exclaimed: + +“Be you who you may, you are exactly like my father in person and +in voice. Loosen my bonds, and listen to me, for the most hideous, +atrocious, and accursed treachery threatens us the king and all.” + +Pentaur drew his sword, and cut the leather thongs which bound the young +man’s hands and feet. He stretched his released limbs, uttering thanks +to the Gods, then he cried: + +“If you love Egypt and the king follow me; perhaps there is yet time to +hinder the hideous deed, and to frustrate this treachery.” + +“The night is dark,” said Kaschita, “and the road to the valley is +dangerous.” + +“You must follow me if it is to your death!” cried the youth, and, +seizing Pentaur’s hand, he dragged him with him out of the cave. + +As soon as the black slave had satisfied himself that Pentaur was the +priest whom he had seen fighting in front of the paraschites’ hovel, and +not the ghost of his dead master, he endeavored to slip past Paaker’s +brother, but Horus observed the manoeuvre, and seized him by his woolly +hair. The slave cried out loudly, and whimpered out: + +“If thou dost escape, Paaker will kill me; he swore he would.” + +“Wait!” said the youth. He dragged the slave back, flung him into the +cave, and blocked up the door with a huge log which lay near it for that +purpose. + +When the three men had crept back through the low passage in the rocks, +and found themselves once more in the open air, they found a high wind +was blowing. + +“The storm will soon be over,” said Horus. “See how the clouds are +driving! Let us have horses, Pentaur, for there is not a minute to be +lost.” + +The poet ordered Kaschta to summon the people to start but the soldier +advised differently. + +“Men and horses are exhausted,” he said, “and we shall get on very +slowly in the dark. Let the beasts feed for an hour, and the men get +rested and warm; by that time the moon will be up, and we shall make up +for the delay by having fresh horses, and light enough to see the road.” + +“The man is right,” said Horus; and he led Kaschta to a cave in the +rocks, where barley and dates for the horses, and a few jars of wine, +had been preserved. They soon had lighted a fire, and while some of the +men took care of the horses, and others cooked a warm mess of victuals, +Horus and Pentaur walked up and down impatiently. + +“Had you been long bound in those thongs when we came?” asked Pentaur. + +“Yesterday my brother fell upon me,” replied Horus. “He is by this time +a long way ahead of us, and if he joins the Cheta, and we do not reach +the Egyptian camp before daybreak, all is lost.” + +“Paaker, then, is plotting treason?” + +“Treason, the foulest, blackest treason!” exclaimed the young man. “Oh, +my lost father!--” + +“Confide in me,” said Pentaur going up to the unhappy youth who had +hidden his face in his hands. “What is Paaker plotting? How is it that +your brother is your enemy?” + +“He is the elder of us two,” said Horus with a trembling voice. “When my +father died I had only a short time before left the school of Seti, and +with his last words my father enjoined me to respect Paaker as the head +of our family. He is domineering and violent, and will allow no one’s +will to cross his; but I bore everything, and always obeyed him, often +against my better judgment. I remained with him two years, then I went +to Thebes, and there I married, and my wife and child are now living +there with my mother. About sixteen months afterwards I came back to +Syria, and we travelled through the country together; but by this time I +did not choose to be the mere tool of my brother’s will, for I had grown +prouder, and it seemed to me that the father of my child ought not to be +subservient, even to his own brother. We often quarrelled, and had a +bad time together, and life became quite unendurable, when--about eight +weeks since--Paaker came back from Thebes, and the king gave him to +understand that he approved more of my reports than of his. From my +childhood I have always been softhearted and patient; every one says I +am like my mother; but what Paaker made me suffer by words and deeds, +that is--I could not--” His voice broke, and Pentaur felt how cruelly he +had suffered; then he went on again: + +“What happened to my brother in Egypt, I do not know, for he is very +reserved, and asks for no sympathy, either in joy or in sorrow; but from +words he has dropped now and then I gather that he not only bitterly +hates Mena, the charioteer--who certainly did him an injury--but has +some grudge against the king too. I spoke to him of it at once, but only +once, for his rage is unbounded when he is provoked, and after all he is +my elder brother. + +“For some days they have been preparing in the camp for a decisive +battle, and it was our duty to ascertain the position and strength of +the enemy; the king gave me, and not Paaker, the commission to prepare +the report. Early yesterday morning I drew it out and wrote it; then my +brother said he would carry it to the camp, and I was to wait here. I +positively refused, as Rameses had required the report at my hands, +and not at his. Well, he raved like a madman, declared that I had taken +advantage of his absence to insinuate myself into the king’s favor, and +commanded me to obey him as the head of the house, in the name of my +father. + +“I was sitting irresolute, when he went out of the cavern to call his +horses; then my eyes fell on the things which the old black slave +was tying together to load on a pack-horse--among them was a roll +of writing. I fancied it was my own, and took it up to look at it, +when--what should I find? At the risk of my life I had gone among the +Cheta, and had found that the main body of their army is collected in +a cross-valley of the Orontes, quite hidden in the mountains to the +north-east of Kadesh; and in the roll it was stated, in Paaker’s own +hand-writing, that that valley is clear, and the way through it open, +and well suited for the passage of the Egyptian war-chariots; various +other false details were given, and when I looked further among his +things, I found between the arrows in his quiver, on which he had +written ‘death to Mena,’ another little roll of writing. I tore it open, +and my blood ran cold when I saw to whom it was addressed.” + +“To the king of the Cheta?” cried Pentaur in excitement. + +“To his chief officer, Titure,” continued Horus. “I was holding both +the rolls in my hand, when Paaker came back into the cave. ‘Traitor!’ +I cried out to him; but he flung the lasso, with which he had been +catching the stray horses, threw it round my neck, and as I fell choking +on the ground, he and the black man, who obeys him like a dog, bound +me hand and foot; he left the old negro to keep guard over me, took the +rolls and rode away. Look, there are the stars, and the moon will soon +be up.” + +“Make haste, men!” cried Pentaur. “The three best horses for me, Horus, +and Kaschta; the rest remain here.” + +As the red-bearded soldier led the horses forward, the moon shone forth, +and within an hour the travellers had reached the plain; they sprang on +to the beasts and rode madly on towards the lake, which, when the sun +rose, gleamed before them in silvery green. As they drew near to it they +could discern, on its treeless western shore, black masses moving hither +and thither; clouds of dust rose up from the plain, pierced by flashes +of light, like the rays of the sun reflected from a moving mirror. + +“The battle is begun!” cried Horus; and he fell sobbing on his horse’s +neck. + +“But all is not lost yet!” exclaimed the poet, spurring his horse to +a final effort of strength. His companions did the same, but first +Kaschta’s horse fell under him, then Horus’s broke down. + +“Help may be given by the left wing!” cried Horus. “I will run as fast +as I can on foot, I know where to find them. You will easily find the +king if you follow the stream to the stone bridge. In the cross-valley +about a thousand paces farther north--to the northwest of our +stronghold--the surprise is to be effected. Try to get through, and warn +Rameses; the Egyptian pass-word is ‘Bent-Anat,’ the name of the king’s +favorite daughter. But even if you had wings, and could fly straight to +him, they would overpower him if I cannot succeed in turning the left +wing on the rear of the enemy.” + +Pentaur galloped onwards; but it was not long before his horse too gave +way, and he ran forward like a man who runs a race, and shouted the +pass-word “Bent-Anat”--for the ring of her name seemed to give him +vigor. Presently he came upon a mounted messenger of the enemy; he +struck him down from his horse, flung himself into the saddle, and +rushed on towards the camp; as if he were riding to his wedding. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +During the night which had proved so eventful to our friends, much +had occurred in the king’s camp, for the troops were to advance to the +long-anticipated battle before sunrise. + +Paaker had given his false report of the enemy’s movements to the +Pharaoh with his own hand; a council of war had been held, and each +division had received instructions as to where it was to take up its +position. The corps, which bore the name of the Sungod Ra, advanced from +the south towards Schabatun, + + [Kadesh was the chief city of the Cheta, i. e. Aramaans, round + which the united forces of all the peoples of western Asia had + collected. There were several cities called Kadesh. That which + frequently checked the forces of Thotmes III. may have been + situated farther to the south; but the Cheta city of Kadesh, where + Rameses II. fought so hard a battle, was undoubtedly on the + Orontes, for the river which is depicted on the pylon of the + Ramesseum as parting into two streams which wash the walls of the + fortress, is called Aruntha, and in the Epos of Pentaur it is stated + that this battle took place at Kadesh by the Orontes. The name of + the city survives, at a spot just three miles north of the lake of + Riblah. The battle itself I have described from the Epos of + Pentaur, the national epic of Egypt. It ends with these words: + “This was written and made by the scribe Pentaur.” It was so highly + esteemed that it is engraved in stone twice at Luqsor, and once at + Karnak. Copies of it on papyrus are frequent; for instance, papyrus + Sallier III. and papyrus Raifet--unfortunately much injured--in the + Louvre. The principal incident, the rescue of the king from the + enemy, is repeated at the Ramessetun at Thebes, and at Abu Simbel. + It was translated into French by Vicomte E. de Rouge. The camp of + Rameses is depicted on the pylons of Luqsor and the Ramesseum.] + +so as to surround the lake on the east, and fall on the enemy’s flank; +the corps of Seth, composed of men from lower Egypt, was sent on to +Arnam to form the centre; the king himself, with the flower of the +chariot-guard, proposed to follow the road through the valley, which +Paaker’s report represented as a safe and open passage to the plain +of the Orontes. Thus, while the other divisions occupied the enemy, he +could cross the Orontes by a ford, and fall on the rear of the fortress +of Kadesh from the north-west. The corps of Amon, with the Ethiopian +mercenaries, were to support him, joining him by another route, which +the pioneer’s false indications represented as connecting the line of +operations. The corps of Ptah remained as a reserve behind the left +wing. + +The soldiers had not gone to rest as usual; heavily, armed troops, who +bore in one hand a shield of half a man’s height, and in the other a +scimitar, or a short, pointed sword, guarded the camp, + + [Representations of Rameses’ camp are preserved on the pylons of the + temple of Luxor and the Ramesseum.] + +where numerous fires burned, round which crowded the resting warriors. +Here a wine-skin was passed from hand to hand, there a joint was +roasting on a wooden spit; farther on a party were throwing dice for the +booty they had won, or playing at morra. All was in eager activity, +and many a scuffle occurred amoung the excited soldiers, and had to be +settled by the camp-watch. + +Near the enclosed plots, where the horses were tethered, the smiths were +busily engaged in shoeing the beasts which needed it, and in sharpening +the points of the lances; the servants of the chariot-guard were also +fully occupied, as the chariots had for the most part been brought over +the mountains in detached pieces on the backs of pack-horses and asses, +and now had to be put together again, and to have their wheels greased. +On the eastern side of the camp stood a canopy, under which the +standards were kept, and there numbers of priests were occupied in their +office of blessing the warriors, offering sacrifices, and singing hymns +and litanies. But these pious sounds were frequently overpowered by the +loud voices of the gamblers and revellers, by the blows of the hammers, +the hoarse braying of the asses, and the neighing of the horses. From +time to time also the deep roar of the king’s war-lions + + [See Diodorus, 1. 47. Also the pictures of the king rushing to the + fight.] + +might be heard; these beasts followed him into the fight, and were now +howling for food, as they had been kept fasting to excite their fury. + +In the midst of the camp stood the king’s tent, surrounded by foot +and chariot-guards. The auxiliary troops were encamped in divisions +according to their nationality, and between them the Egyptian legions of +heavy-armed soldiers and archers. Here might be seen the black Ethiopian +with wooly matted hair, in which a few feathers were stuck--the +handsome, well proportioned “Son of the desert” from the sandy Arabian +shore of the Red Sea, who performed his wild war-dance flourishing his +lance, with a peculiar wriggle of his--hips pale Sardinians, with metal +helmets and heavy swords--light colored Libyans, with tattooed arms and +ostrich-feathers on their heads-brown, bearded Arabs, worshippers of the +stars, inseparable from their horses, and armed, some with lances, and +some with bows and arrows. And not less various than their aspect were +the tongues of the allied troops--but all obedient to the king’s word of +command. + +In the midst of the royal tents was a lightly constructed temple with +the statues of the Gods of Thebes, and of the king’s forefathers; clouds +of incense rose in front of it, for the priests were engaged from the +eve of the battle until it was over, in prayers, and offerings to Amon, +the king of the Gods, to Necheb, the Goddess of victory, and to Menth, +the God of war. + +The keeper of the lions stood by the Pharaoh’s sleeping-tent, and +the tent, which served as a council chamber, was distinguished by the +standards in front of it; but the council-tent was empty and still, +while in the kitchen-tent, as well as in the wine-store close by, all +was in a bustle. The large pavilion, in which Rameses and his suite were +taking their evening meal, was more brilliantly lighted than all the +others; it was a covered tent, a long square in shape, and all round +it were colored lamps, which made it as light as day; a body-guard of +Sardinians, Libyans, and Egyptians guarded it with drawn swords, and +seemed too wholly absorbed with the importance of their office even to +notice the dishes and wine-jars, which the king’s pages--the sons of +the highest families in Egypt--took at the tent-door from the cooks and +butlers. + +The walls and slanting roof of this quickly-built and movable +banqueting-hall, consisted of a strong, impenetrable carpet-stuff, +woven at Thebes, and afterwards dyed purple at Tanis by the Phoenicians. +Saitic artists had embroidered the vulture, one of the forms in which +Necheb appears, a hundred times on the costly material with threads of +silver. The cedar-wood pillars of the tent were covered with gold, +and the ropes, which secured the light erection to the tent-pegs, were +twisted of silk, and thin threads of silver. Seated round four tables, +more than a hundred men were taking their evening meal; at three of them +the generals of the army, the chief priests, and councillors, sat on +light stools; at the fourth, and at some distance from the others, +were the princes of the blood; and the king himself sat apart at a high +table, on a throne supported by gilt figures of Asiatic prisoners +in chains. His table and throne stood on a low dais covered with +panther-skin; but even without that Rameses would have towered above his +companions. His form was powerful, and there was a commanding aspect +in his bearded face, and in the high brow, crowned with a golden diadem +adorned with the heads of two Uraeus-snakes, wearing the crowns of Upper +and Lower Egypt. A broad collar of precious stones covered half his +breast, the lower half was concealed by a scarf or belt, and his bare +arms were adorned with bracelets. His finely-proportioned limbs looked +as if moulded in bronze, so smoothly were the powerful muscles covered +with the shining copper-colored skin. Sitting here among those who were +devoted to him, he looked with kind and fatherly pride at his blooming +sons. + +The lion was at rest--but nevertheless he was a lion, and terrible +things might be looked for when he should rouse himself, and when the +mighty hand, which now dispensed bread, should be clenched for the +fight. There was nothing mean in this man, and yet nothing alarming; +for, if his eye had a commanding sparkle, the expression of his mouth +was particularly gentle; and the deep voice which could make itself +heard above the clash of fighting men, could also assume the sweetest +and most winning tones. His education had not only made him well aware +of his greatness and power, but had left him also a genuine man, a +stranger to none of the emotions of the human soul. + +Behind Pharaoh stood a man, younger than himself, who gave him his +wine-cup after first touching it with his own lips; this was Mena, the +king’s charioteer and favorite companion. His figure was slight and yet +vigorous, supple and yet dignified, and his finely-formed features and +frank bright eyes were full at once of self-respect and of benevolence. +Such a man might fail in reflection and counsel, but would be admirable +as an honorable, staunch, and faithful friend. + +Among the princes, Chamus sat nearest to the king; + + [He is named Cha-em-Us on the monuments, i. e., ‘splendor in + Thebes.’ He became the Sam, or high-priest of Memphis. His mummy + was discovered by Mariette in the tomb of Apis at Saqqarah during ha + excavations of the Serapeum at Memphis.] + +he was the eldest of his sons, and while still young had been invested +with the dignity of high-priest of Memphis. The curly-haired Rameri, +who had been rescued from imprisonment--into which he had fallen on his +journey from Egypt--had been assigned a place with the younger princes +at the lowest end of the table. + +“It all sounds very threatening!” said the king. “But though each of you +croakers speaks the truth, your love for me dims your sight. In +fact, all that Rameri has told me, that Bent-Anat writes, that Mena’s +stud-keeper says of Ani, and that comes through other channels--amounts +to nothing that need disturb us. I know your uncle--I know that he will +make his borrowed throne as wide as he possibly can; but when we return +home he will be quite content to sit on a narrow seat again. Great +enterprises and daring deeds are not what he excels in; but he is very +apt at carrying out a ready-made system, and therefore I choose him to +be my Regent.” + +“But Ameni,” said Chamus, bowing respectfully to his father, “seems to +have stirred up his ambition, and to support him with his advice. The +chief of the House of Seti is a man of great ability, and at least half +of the priesthood are his adherents.” + +“I know it,” replied the king. “Their lordships owe me a grudge because +I have called their serfs to arms, and they want them to till their +acres. A pretty sort of people they have sent me! their courage flies +with the first arrow. They shall guard the camp tomorrow; they will be +equal to that when it is made clear to their understanding that, if they +let the tents be taken, the bread, meat and wines-skins will also fall +into the hands of the enemy. If Kadesh is taken by storm, the temples of +the Nile shall have the greater part of the spoil, and you yourself, my +young high-priest of Memphis, shall show your colleagues that Rameses +repays in bushels that which he has taken in handfuls from the ministers +of the Gods.” + +“Ameni’s disaffection,” replied Chamus, “has a deeper root; thy mighty +spirit seeks and finds its own way--” + +“But their lordships,” interrupted Rameses, “are accustomed to govern +the king too, and I--I do not do them credit. I rule as vicar of the +Lord of the Gods, but--I myself am no God, though they attribute to me +the honors of a divinity; and in all humility of heart I willingly +leave it to them to be the mediators between the Immortals and me or my +people. Human affairs certainly I choose to manage in my own way. And +now no more of them. I cannot bear to doubt my friends, and trustfulness +is so dear, so essential to me, that I must indulge in it even if my +confidence results in my being deceived.” + +The king glanced at Mena, who handed him a golden cup--which he emptied. +He looked at the glittering beaker, and then, with a flash of his grave, +bright eyes, he added: + +“And if I am betrayed--if ten such as Ameni and Ani entice my people +into a snare--I shall return home, and will tread the reptiles into +dust.” + +His deep voice rang out the words, as if he were a herald proclaiming a +victorious deed of arms. Not a word was spoken, not a hand moved, when +he ceased speaking. Then he raised his cup, and said: + +“It is well before the battle to uplift our hearts! We have done great +deeds; distant nations have felt our hand; we have planted our pillars +of conquest by their rivers, and graven the record of our deeds on their +rocks. + + [Herodotus speaks of the pictures graven on the rocks in the + provinces conquered by Rameses II., in memory of his achievements. + He saw two, one of which remains on a rock near Beyrut.] + +Your king is great above all kings, and it is through the might of the +Gods, and your valor my brave comrades. May to-morrow’s fight bring us +new glory! May the Immortals soon bring this war to a close! Empty your +wine cups with me--To victory and a speedy return home in peace!” + +“Victory! Victory! Long life to the Pharaoh! Strength and health!” cried +the guests of the king, who, as he descended from his throne, cried to +the drinkers: + +“Now, rest till the star of Isis sets. Then follow me to prayer at the +altar of Amon, and then-to battle.” + +Fresh cries of triumph sounded through the room, while Rameses gave his +hand with a few words of encouragement to each of his sons in turn. +He desired the two youngest, Mernephtah and Rameri to follow him, and +quitting the banquet with them and Mena, he proceeded, under the escort +of his officers and guards, who bore staves before him with golden +lilies and ostrich-feathers, to his sleeping-tent, which was surrounded +by a corps d’elite under the command of his sons. Before entering the +tent he asked for some pieces of meat, and gave them with his own hand +to his lions, who let him stroke them like tame cats. + +Then he glanced round the stable, patted the sleek necks and shoulders +of his favorite horses, and decided that ‘Nura’ and ‘Victory to Thebes’ +should bear him into the battle on the morrow. + + [The horses driven by Rameses at the battle of Kadesh were in fact + thus named.] + +When he had gone into the sleeping-tent, he desired his attendants to +leave him; he signed Mena to divest him of his ornaments and his arms, +and called to him his youngest sons, who were waiting respectfully at +the door of the tent. + +“Why did I desire you to accompany me?” he asked them gravely. Both were +silent, and he repeated his question. + +“Because,” said Rameri at length, “you observed that all was not quite +right between us two.” + +“And because,” continued the king, “I desire that unity should exist +between my children. You will have enemies enough to fight with +to-morrow, but friends are not often to be found, and are too often +taken from us by the fortune of war. We ought to feel no anger towards +the friend we may lose, but expect to meet him lovingly in the other +world. Speak, Rameri, what has caused a division between you?” + +“I bear him no ill-will,” answered Rameri. “You lately gave me the sword +which Mernephtah has there stuck in his belt, because I did my duty well +in the last skirmish with the enemy. You know we both sleep in the same +tent, and yesterday, when I drew my sword out of its sheath to admire +the fine work of the blade, I found that another, not so sharp, had been +put in its place.” + +“I had only exchanged my sword for his in fun,” interrupted Mernephtah. +“But he can never take a joke, and declared I want to wear a prize that +I had not earned; he would try, he said, to win another and then--” + +“I have heard enough; you have both done wrong,” said the King. “Even in +fun, Mernephtah, you should never cheat or deceive. I did so once, and I +will tell you what happened, as a warning. + +“My noble mother, Tuaa, desired me, the first time I went into +Fenchu--[Phoenicia: on monuments of the 18th dynasty.]--to bring her a +pebble from the shore near Byblos, where the body of Osiris was washed. +As we returned to Thebes, my mother’s request returned to my mind; I was +young and thoughtless--I picked up a stone by the way-side, took it with +me, and when she asked me for the remembrance from Byblos I silently +gave her the pebble from Thebes. She was delighted, she showed it to her +brothers and sisters, and laid it by the statues of her ancestors; but I +was miserable with shame and penitence, and at last I secretly took away +the stone, and threw it into the water. All the servants were called +together, and strict enquiry was made as to the theft of the stone; then +I could hold out no longer, and confessed everything. No one punished +me, and yet I never suffered more severely; from that time I have never +deviated from the exact truth even in jest. Take the lesson to heart, +Mernephtah--you, Rameri, take back your sword, and, believe me, life +brings us so many real causes of vexation, that it is well to learn +early to pass lightly over little things if you do not wish to become +a surly fellow like the pioneer Paaker; and that seems far from likely +with a gay, reckless temper like yours. Now shake hands with each +other.” + +The young princes went up to each other, and Rameri fell on his +brother’s neck and kissed him. The king stroked their heads. “Now go +in peace,” he said, “and to-morrow you shall both strive to win a fresh +mark of honor.” + +When his sons had left the tent, Rameses turned to his charioteer and +said: “I have to speak to you too before the battle. I can read your +soul through your eyes, and it seems to me that things have gone wrong +with you since the keeper of your stud arrived here. What has happened +in Thebes?” Mena looked frankly, but sadly at the king: + +“My mother-in-law Katuti,” he said, “is managing my estate very badly, +pledging the land, and selling the cattle.” + +“That can be remedied,” said Rameses kindly. “You know I promised to +grant you the fulfilment of a wish, if Nefert trusted you as perfectly +as you believe. But it appears to me as if something more nearly +concerning you than this were wrong, for I never knew you anxious about +money and lands. Speak openly! you know I am your father, and the heart +and the eye of the man who guides my horses in battle, must be open +without reserve to my gaze.” + +Mena kissed the king’s robe; then he said: + +“Nefert has left Katuti’s house, and as thou knowest has followed thy +daughter, Bent-Anat, to the sacred mountain, and to Megiddo.” + +“I thought the change was a good one,” replied Rameses. “I leave +Bent-Anat in the care of Bent-Anat, for she needs no other guardianship, +and your wife can have no better protector than Bent-Anat.” + +“Certainly not!” exclaimed Mena with sincere emphasis. “But before they +started, miserable things occurred. Thou knowest that before she married +me she was betrothed to her cousin, the pioneer Paaker, and he, during +his stay in Thebes, has gone in and out of my house, has helped Katuti +with an enormous sum to pay the debts of my wild brother-in-law, and-as +my stud-keeper saw with his own eyes-has made presents of flowers to +Nefert.” + +The king smiled, laid his hand on Mena’s shoulder, and said, as he +looked in his face: “Your wife will trust you, although you take a +strange woman into your tent, and you allow yourself to doubt her +because her cousin gives her some flowers! Is that wise or just? I +believe you are jealous of the broad-shouldered ruffian that some +spiteful Wight laid in the nest of the noble Mohar, his father.” + +“No, that I am not,” replied Mena, “nor does any doubt of Nefert disturb +my soul; but it torments me, it nettles me, it disgusts me, that Paaker +of all men, whom I loathe as a venomous spider, should look at her and +make her presents under my very roof.” + +“He who looks for faith must give faith,” said the king. “And must not +I myself submit to accept songs of praise from the most contemptible +wretches? Come--smooth your brow; think of the approaching victory, of +our return home, and remember that you have less to forgive Paaker than +he to forgive you. Now, pray go and see to the horses, and to-morrow +morning let me see you on my chariot full of cheerful courage--as I love +to see you.” + +Mena left the tent, and went to the stables; there he met Rameri, who +was waiting to speak to him. The eager boy said that he had always +looked up to him and loved him as a brilliant example, but that lately +he had been perplexed as to his virtuous fidelity, for he had been +informed that Mena had taken a strange woman into his tent--he who was +married to the fairest and sweetest woman in Thebes. + +“I have known her,” he concluded, “as well as if I were her brother; +and I know that she would die if she heard that you had insulted and +disgraced her. Yes, insulted her; for such a public breach of faith is +an insult to the wife of an Egyptian. Forgive my freedom of speech, but +who knows what to-morrow may bring forth--and I would not for worlds go +out to battle, thinking evil of you.” + +Mena let Rameri speak without interruption, and then answered: + +“You are as frank as your father, and have learned from him to hear the +defendant before you condemn him. A strange maiden, the daughter of the +king of the Danaids, + + [A people of the Greeks at the time of the Trojan war. They are + mentioned among the nations of the Mediterranean allied against + Rameses III. The Dardaneans were inhabitants of the Trojan + provinces of Dardanin, and whose name was used for the Trojans + generally.] + +lives in my tent, but I for months have slept at the door of your +father’s, and I have not once entered my own since she has been there. +Now sit down by me, and let me tell you how it all happened. We had +pitched the camp before Kadesh, and there was very little for me to do, +as Rameses was still laid up with his wound, so I often passed my time +in hunting on the shores of the lake. One day I went as usual, armed +only with my bow and arrow, and, accompanied by my grey-hounds, +heedlessly followed a hare; a troop of Danaids fell upon me, bound me +with cords, and led me into their camp. + + [Grey-hounds, trained to hunt hares, are represented in the most + ancient tombs, for instance, the Mastaba at Meydum, belonging to the + time of Snefru (four centuries B. C.).] + +There I was led before the judges as a spy, and they had actually +condemned me, and the rope was round my neck, when their king came up, +saw me, and subjected me to a fresh examination. I told him the facts +at full length--how I had fallen into the hands of his people while +following up my game, and not as an enemy, and he heard me favorably, +and granted me not only life but freedom. He knew me for a noble, and +treated me as one, inviting me to feed at his own table, and I swore in +my heart, when he let me go, that I would make him some return for his +generous conduct. + +“About a month after, we succeeded in surprising the Cheta position, and +the Libyan soldiers, among other spoil, brought away the Danaid king’s +only daughter. I had behaved valiantly, and when we came to the division +of the spoils Rameses allowed me to choose first. I laid my hand on the +maid, the daughter of my deliverer and host, I led her to my tent, and +left her there with her waiting-women till peace is concluded, and I can +restore her to her father.” + +“Forgive my doubts!” cried Rameri holding out his hand. “Now I +understand why the king so particularly enquired whether Nefert believed +in your constancy to her.” + +“And what was your answer?” asked Mena. + +“That she thinks of you day and night, and never for an instant doubted +you. My father seemed delighted too, and he said to Chamus: ‘He has won +there!” + +“He will grant me some great favor,” said Mena in explanation, “if, when +she hears I have taken a strange maiden to my tent her confidence in me +is not shaken, Rameses considers it simply impossible, but I know that I +shall win. Why! she must trust me.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + +Before the battle, + + [The battle about to be described is taken entirely from the epos of + Pentaur.] + +prayers were offered and victims sacrificed for each division of the +army. Images of the Gods were borne through the ranks in their festal +barks, and miraculous relics were exhibited to the soldiers; heralds +announced that the high-priest had found favorable omens in the victims +offered by the king, and that the haruspices foretold a glorious +victory. Each Egyptian legion turned with particular faith to the +standard which bore the image of the sacred animal or symbol of the +province where it had been levied, but each soldier was also provided +with charms and amulets of various kinds; one had tied to his neck or +arm a magical text in a little bag, another the mystic preservative +eye, and most of them wore a scarabaeus in a finger ring. Many believed +themselves protected by having a few hairs or feathers of some sacred +animal, and not a few put themselves under the protection of a living +snake or beetle carefully concealed in a pocket of their apron or in +their little provision-sack. + +When the king, before whom were carried the images of the divine Triad +of Thebes, of Menth, the God of War and of Necheb, the Goddess of +Victory, reviewed the ranks, he was borne in a litter on the shoulders +of twenty-four noble youths; at his approach the whole host fell +on their knees, and did not rise till Rameses, descending from his +position, had, in the presence of them all, burned incense, and made a +libation to the Gods, and his son Chamus had delivered to him, in the +name of the Immortals, the symbols of life and power. Finally, the +priests sang a choral hymn to the Sun-god Ra, and to his son and vicar +on earth, the king. + +Just as the troops were put in motion, the paling stars appeared in +the sky, which had hitherto been covered with thick clouds; and this +occurrence was regarded as a favorable omen, the priests declaring to +the army that, as the coming Ra had dispersed the clouds, so the Pharaoh +would scatter his enemies. + +With no sound of trumpet or drum, so as not to arouse the enemy, the +foot-soldiers went forward in close order, the chariot-warriors, each in +his light two-wheeled chariot drawn by two horses, formed their ranks, +and the king placed himself at their head. On each side of the gilt +chariot in which he stood, a case was fixed, glittering with precious +stones, in which were his bows and arrows. His noble horses were richly +caparisoned; purple housings, embroidered with turquoise beads, covered +their backs and necks, and a crown-shaped ornament was fixed on their +heads, from which fluttered a bunch of white ostrich-feathers. At the +end of the ebony pole of the chariot, were two small padded yokes, which +rested on the necks of the horses, who pranced in front as if playing +with the light vehicle, pawed the earth with their small hoofs, and +tossed and curved their slender necks. + +The king wore a shirt of mail, + + [The remains of a shirt of mail, dating from the time of Scheschenk + I. (Sesonchis), who belonged to the 22d dynasty, is in the British + Museum. It is made of leather, on which bronze scales are + fastened.] + +over which lay the broad purple girdle of his apron, and on his head was +the crown of Upper and Lower Egypt; behind him stood Mena, who, with his +left hand, tightly held the reins, and with his right the shield which +was to protect his sovereign in the fight. + +The king stood like a storm-proof oak, and Mena by his side like a +sapling ash. + +The eastern horizon was rosy with the approaching sun-rise when they +quitted the precincts of the camp; at this moment the pioneer Paaker +advanced to meet the king, threw himself on the ground before him, +kissed the earth, and, in answer to the king’s question as to why he had +come without his brother, told him that Horus was taken suddenly ill. +The shades of dawn concealed from the king the guilty color, which +changed to sallow paleness, on the face of the pioneer--unaccustomed +hitherto to lying and treason. + +“How is it with the enemy?” asked Rameses. + +“He is aware,” replied Paaker, “that a fight is impending, and is +collecting numberless hosts in the camps to the south and east of the +city. If thou could’st succeed in falling on the rear from the north of +Kadesh, while the foot soldiers seize the camp of the Asiatics from the +south, the fortress will be thine before night. The mountain path that +thou must follow, so as not to be discovered, is not a bad one.” + +“Are you ill as well as your brother, man?” asked the king. “Your voice +trembles.” + +“I was never better,” answered the Mohar. + +“Lead the way,” commanded the king, and Paaker obeyed. They went on in +silence, followed by the vast troop of chariots through the dewy morning +air, first across the plain, and then into the mountain range. The corps +of Ra, armed with bows and arrows, preceeded them to clear the way; they +crossed the narrow bed of a dry torrent, and then a broad valley opened +before them, extending to the right and left and enclosed by ranges of +mountains. + +“The road is good,” said Rameses, turning to Mena. “The Mohar has +learned his duties from his father, and his horses are capital. Now he +leads the way, and points it out to the guards, and then in a moment he +is close to us again.” + +“They are the golden-bays of my breed,” said Mena, and the veins started +angrily in his forehead. “My stud-master tells me that Katuti sent them +to him before his departure. They were intended for Nefert’s chariot, +and he drives them to-day to defy and spite me.” + +“You have the wife--let the horses go,” said Rameses soothingly. + +Suddenly a blast of trumpets rang through the morning air; whence it +came could not be seen, and yet it sounded close at hand. + +Rameses started up and took his battle-axe from his girdle, the horses +pricked their ears, and Mena exclaimed: + +“Those are the trumpets of the Cheta! I know the sound.” + +A closed wagon with four wheels in which the king’s lions were conveyed, +followed the royal chariot. “Let loose the lions!” cried the king, who +heard an echoing war cry, and soon after saw the vanguard which had +preceded him, and which was broken up by the chariots of the enemy, +flying towards him down the valley again. + +The wild beasts shook their manes and sprang in front of their master’s +chariot with loud roars. Mena lashed his whip, the horses started +forward and rushed with frantic plunges towards the fugitives, who +however could not be brought to a standstill, or rallied by the king’s +voice--the enemy were close upon them, cutting them down. + +“Where is Paaker?” asked the king. But the pioneer had vanished as +completely as if the earth had swallowed him and his chariot. + +The flying Egyptians and the death-dealing chariots of the enemy came +nearer and nearer, the ground trembled, the tramp of hoofs and the +roar of wheels sounded louder and louder, like the roll of a rapidly +approaching storm. + +Then Rameses gave out a war cry, that rang back from the cliffs on +the right hand and on the left like the blast of a trumpet; his +chariot-guard joined in the shout--for an instant the flying Egyptians +paused, but only to rush on again with double haste, in hope of escape +and safety: suddenly the war-cry of the enemy was heard behind the +king, mingling with the trumpet-call of the Cheta, and out from a cross +valley, which the king had passed unheeded by--and into which Paaker had +disappeared--came an innumerable host of chariots which, before the king +could retreat, had broken through the Egyptian ranks, and cut him off +from the body of his army. Behind him he could hear the roar and shock +of the battle, in front of him he saw the fugitives, the fallen, and the +enemy growing each instant in numbers and fury. He saw the whole danger, +and drew up his powerful form as if to prove whether it were an equal +match for such a foe. Then, raising his voice to such a pitch, that it +sounded above the cries and groans of the fighting men, the words of +command, the neighing of the horses, the crash of overthrown chariots, +the dull whirr of lances and swords, their heavy blows on shields and +helmets, and the whole bewildering tumult of the battle--with a loud +shout he drew his bow, and his first arrow pierced a Cheta chief. + +His lions sprang forward, and carried confusion into the hosts that were +crowding down upon him, for many of their horses became unmanageable at +the roar of the furious brutes, overthrew the chariots, and so hemmed +the advance of the troops in the rear. Rameses sent arrow after arrow, +while Mena covered him with the shield from the shots of the enemy. His +horses meanwhile had carried him forward, and he could fell the foremost +of the Asiatics with his battle-axe; close by his side fought Rameri and +three other princes; in front of him were the lions. + +The press was fearful, and the raging of the battle wild and deafening, +like the roar of the surging ocean when it is hurled by a hurricane +against a rocky coast. + +Mena seemed to be in two places at once, for, while he guided the horses +forwards, backwards, or to either hand, as the exigences of the position +demanded, not one of the arrows shot at the king touched him. His eye +was everywhere, the shield always ready, and not an eyelash of the young +hero trembled, while Rameses, each moment more infuriated, incited his +lions with wild war-cries, and with flashing eyes advanced farther and +farther into the enemy’s ranks. + +Three arrows aimed, not at the king but at Mena himself, were sticking +in the charioteer’s shield, and by chance he saw written on the shaft of +one of them the words “Death to Mena.” + +A fourth arrow whizzed past him. His eye followed its flight, and as he +marked the spot whence it had come, a fifth wounded his shoulder, and he +cried out to the king: + +“We are betrayed! Look over there! Paaker is fighting with the Cheta.” + +Once more the Mohar had bent his bow, and came so near to the king’s +chariot that he could be heard exclaiming in a hoarse voice, as he let +the bowstring snap, “Now I will reckon with you--thief! robber! My bride +is your wife, but with this arrow I will win Mena’s widow.” + +The arrow cut through the air, and fell with fearful force on the +charioteer’s helmet; the shield fell from his grasp, and he put his hand +to his head, feeling stunned; he heard Paaker’s laugh of triumph, he +felt another of his enemy’s arrows cut his wrist, and, beside himself +with rage, he flung away the reins, brandished his battle-axe, and +forgetting himself and his duty, sprang from the chariot and rushed upon +Paaker. The Mohar awaited him with uplifted sword; his lips were +white, his eyes bloodshot, his wide nostrils trembled like those of an +over-driven horse, and foaming and hissing he flew at his mortal foe. +The king saw the two engaged in a struggle, but he could not interfere, +for the reins which Mena had dropped were dragging on the ground, and +his ungoverned horses, following the lions, carried him madly onwards. + +Most of his comrades had fallen, the battle raged all round him, but +Rameses stood as firm as a rock, held the shield in front of him, and +swung the deadly battle-axe; he saw Rameri hastening towards him with +his horses, the youth was fighting like a hero, and Rameses called out +to encourage him: “Well done! a worthy grandson of Seti!” + +“I will win a new sword!” cried the boy, and he cleft the skull of one +of his antagonists. But he was soon surrounded by the chariots of the +enemy; the king saw the enemy pull down the young prince’s horses, and +all his comrades--among whom were many of the best warriors--turn their +horses in flight. + +Then one of the lions was pierced by a lance, and sank with a dying roar +of rage and pain that was heard above all the tumult. The king himself +had been grazed by an arrow, a sword stroke had shivered his shield, and +his last arrow had been shot away. + +Still spreading death around him, he saw death closing in upon him, +and, without giving up the struggle, he lifted up his voice in fervent +prayer, calling on Amon for support and rescue. + +While thus in the sorest need he was addressing himself to the Lords of +Heaven, a tall Egyptian suddenly appeared in the midst of the struggle +and turmoil of the battle, seized the reins, and sprang into the chariot +behind the king, to whom he bowed respectfully. For the first time +Rameses felt a thrill of fear. Was this a miracle? Had Amon heard his +prayer? + +He looked half fearfully round at his new charioteer, and when he +fancied he recognized the features of the deceased Mohar, the father of +the traitor Paaker, he believed that Amon had assumed this aspect, and +had come himself to save him. + +“Help is at hand!” cried his new companion. “If we hold our own for only +a short time longer, thou art saved, and victory is ours.” + +Then once more Rameses raised his war-cry, felled a Cheta, who was +standing close to him to the ground, with a blow on his skull, while the +mysterious supporter by his side, who covered him with the shield, on +his part also dealt many terrible strokes. + +Thus some long minutes passed in renewed strife; then a trumpet sounded +above the roar of the battle, and this time Rameses recognized the +call of the Egyptians; from behind a low ridge on his right rushed some +thousands of men of the foot-legion of Ptah who, under the command of +Horus, fell upon the enemy’s flank. They saw their king, and the danger +he was in. They flung themselves with fury on the foes that surrounded +him, dealing death as they advanced, and putting the Cheta to flight, +and soon Rameses saw himself safe, and protected by his followers. + +But his mysterious friend in need had vanished. He had been hit by an +arrow, and had fallen to the earth--a quite mortal catastrophe; but +Rameses still believed that one of the Immortals had come to his rescue. + +But the king granted no long respite to his horses and his fighting-men; +he turned to go back by the way by which he had come, fell upon the +forces which divided him from the main army, took them in the rear while +they were still occupied with his chariot-brigade which was already +giving way, and took most of the Asiatics prisoners who escaped the +arrows and swords of the Egyptians. Having rejoined the main body of the +troops, he pushed forwards across the plain where the Asiatic horse and +chariot-legions were engaged with the Egyptian swordsmen, and forced the +enemy back upon the river Orontes and the lake of Kadesh. Night-fall +put an end to the battle, though early next morning the struggle was +renewed. + +Utter discouragement had fallen upon the Asiatic allies, who had gone +into battle in full security of victory; for the pioneer Paaker had +betrayed his king into their hands. + +When the Pharaoh had set out, the best chariot-warriors of the Cheta +were drawn up in a spot concealed by the city, and sent forward against +Rameses through the northern opening of the valley by which he was to +pass, while other troops of approved valor, in all two thousand five +hundred chariots, were to fall upon him from a cross valley where they +took up their position during the night. + +These tactics had been successfully carried out, and notwithstanding +the Asiatics had suffered a severe defeat--besides losing some of their +noblest heroes, among them Titure their Chancellor, and Chiropasar, the +chronicler of the Cheta king, who could wield the sword as effectively +as the pen, and who, it was intended, should celebrate the victory of +the allies, and perpetuate its glory to succeeding generations. Rameses +had killed one of these with his own hands, and his unknown companion +the other, and besides these many other brave captains of the enemy’s +troops. The king was greeted as a god, when he returned to the camp, +with shouts of triumph and hymns of praise. + +Even the temple-servants, and the miserable troops from Upper +Egypt-ground down by the long war, and bought over by Ani--were carried +away by the universal enthusiasm, and joyfully hailed the hero and king +who had successfully broken the stiff necks of his enemies. + +The next duty was to seek out the dead and wounded; among the latter was +Mena; Rameri also was missing, but news was brought next day that he had +fallen into the hands of the enemy, and he was immediately exchanged for +the princess who had been sheltered in Mena’s tent. + +Paaker had disappeared; but the bays which he had driven into the battle +were found unhurt in front of his ruined and blood-sprinkled chariot. + +The Egyptians were masters of Kadesh, and Chetasar, the king of the +Cheta, sued to be allowed to treat for peace, in his own name and in +that of his allies; but Rameses refused to grant any terms till he had +returned to the frontier of Egypt. The conquered peoples had no choice, +and the representative of the Cheta king--who himself was wounded--and +twelve princes of the principal nations who had fought against Rameses, +were forced to follow his victorious train. Every respect was shown +them, and they were treated as the king himself, but they were none +the less his prisoners. The king was anxious to lose no time, for sad +suspicion filled his heart; a shadow hitherto unknown to his bright and +genial nature had fallen upon his spirit. + +This was the first occasion on which one of his own people had betrayed +him to the enemy. Paaker’s deed had shaken his friendly confidence, and +in his petition for peace the Cheta prince had intimated that Rameses +might find much in his household to be set to rights--perhaps with a +strong hand. + +The king felt himself more than equal to cope with Ani, the priests, and +all whom he had left in Egypt; but it grieved him to be obliged to +feel any loss of confidence, and it was harder to him to bear than any +reverse of fortune. It urged him to hasten his return to Egypt. + +There was another thing which embittered his victory. Mena, whom he +loved as his own son, who understood his lightest sign, who, as soon +as he mounted his chariot, was there by his side like a part of +himself--had been dismissed from his office by the judgment of the +commander-in-chief, and no longer drove his horses. He himself had been +obliged to confirm this decision as just and even mild, for that man was +worthy of death who exposed his king to danger for the gratification of +his own revenge. + +Rameses had not seen Mena since his struggle with Paaker, but he +listened anxiously to the news which was brought him of the progress of +his sorely wounded officer. + +The cheerful, decided, and practical nature of Rameses was averse to +every kind of dreaminess or self-absorption, and no one had ever seen +him, even in hours of extreme weariness, give himself up to vague and +melancholy brooding; but now he would often sit gazing at the ground in +wrapt meditation, and start like an awakened sleeper when his reverie +was disturbed by the requirements of the outer world around him. A +hundred times before he had looked death in the face, and defied it as +he would any other enemy, but now it seemed as though he felt the cold +hand of the mighty adversary on his heart. He could not forget the +oppressive sense of helplessness which had seized him when he had felt +himself at the mercy of the unrestrained horses, like a leaf driven by +the wind, and then suddenly saved by a miracle. + +A miracle? Was it really Amon who had appeared in human form at his +call? Was he indeed a son of the Gods, and did their blood flow in his +veins? + +The Immortals had shown him peculiar favor, but still he was but a man; +that he realized from the pain in his wound, and the treason to which +he had been a victim. He felt as if he had been respited on the very +scaffold. Yes; he was a man like all other men, and so he would still +be. He rejoiced in the obscurity that veiled his future, in the many +weaknesses which he had in common with those whom he loved, and even +in the feeling that he, under the same conditions of life as his +contemporaries, had more responsibilities than they. + +Shortly after his victory, after all the important passes and +strongholds had been conquered by his troops, he set out for Egypt +with his train and the vanquished princes. He sent two of his sons to +Bent-Anat at Megiddo, to escort her by sea to Pelusium; he knew that the +commandant of the harbor of that frontier fortress, at the easternmost +limit of his kingdom, was faithful to him, and he ordered that his +daughter should not quit the ship till he arrived, to secure her against +any attempt on the part of the Regent. A large part of the material of +war, and most of the wounded, were also sent to Egypt by sea. + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +Nearly three months had passed since the battle of Kadesh, and to-day +the king was expected, on his way home with his victorious army, at +Pelusium, the strong hold and key of Egyptian dominion in the east. +Splendid preparations had been made for his reception, and the man who +took the lead in the festive arrangements with a zeal that was doubly +effective from his composed demeanor was no less a person than the +Regent Ani. + +His chariot was to be seen everywhere: now he was with the workmen, +who were to decorate triumphal arches with fresh flowers; now with the +slaves, who were hanging garlands on the wooden lions erected on the +road for this great occasion; now--and this detained him longest--he +watched the progress of the immense palace which was being rapidly +constructed of wood on the site where formerly the camp of the Hyksos +had stood, in which the actual ceremony of receiving the king was to +take place, and where the Pharaoh and his immediate followers were +to reside. It had been found possible, by employing several thousand +laborers, to erect this magnificent structure, in a few weeks, and +nothing was lacking to it that could be desired, even by a king so +accustomed as Rameses to luxury and splendor. A high exterior flight of +steps led from the garden--which had been created out of a waste--to the +vestibule, out of which the banqueting hall opened. + +This was of unusual height, and had a vaulted wooden ceiling, which was +painted blue and sprinkled with stars, to represent the night heavens, +and which was supported on pillars carved, some in the form of +date-palms, and some like cedars of Lebanon; the leaves and twigs +consisted of artfully fastened and colored tissue; elegant festoons of +bluish gauze were stretched from pillar to pillar across the hall, +and in the centre of the eastern wall they were attached to a large +shell-shaped canopy extending over the throne of the king, which was +decorated with pieces of green and blue glass, of mother of pearl, of +shining plates of mica, and other sparkling objects. + +The throne itself had the shape of a buckler, guarded by two lions, +which rested on each side of it and formed the arms, and supported on +the backs of four Asiatic captives who crouched beneath its weight. +Thick carpets, which seemed to have transported the sea-shore on to the +dry land-for their pale blue ground was strewn with a variety of shells, +fishes, and water plants-covered the floor of the banqueting hall, in +which three hundred seats were placed by the tables, for the nobles of +the kingdom and the officers of the troops. + +Above all this splendor hung a thousand lamps, shaped like lilies and +tulips, and in the entrance hall stood a huge basket of roses to be +strewn before the king when he should arrive. + +Even the bed-rooms for the king and his suite were splendidly decorated; +finely embroidered purple stuffs covered the walls, a light cloud of +pale blue gauze hung across the ceiling, and giraffe skins were laid +instead of carpets on the floors. + +The barracks intended for the soldiers and bodyguard stood nearer to +the city, as well as the stable buildings, which were divided from the +palace by the garden which surrounded it. A separate pavilion, gilt +and wreathed with flowers, was erected to receive the horses which had +carried the king through the battle, and which he had dedicated to the +Sun-God. + +The Regent Ani, accompanied by Katuti, was going through the whole of +these slightly built structures. + +“It seems to me all quite complete,” said the widow. + +“Only one thing I cannot make up my mind about,” replied Ani, “whether +most to admire your inventive genius or your exquisite taste.” + +“Oh! let that pass,” said Katuti smiling. “If any thing deserves +your praise it is my anxiety to serve you. How many things had to be +considered before this structure at last stood complete on this marshy +spot where the air seemed alive with disgusting insects and now it is +finished how long will it last?” + +Ani looked down. “How long?” he repeated. Then he continued: “There is +great risk already of the plot miscarrying. Ameni has grown cool, and +will stir no further in the matter; the troops on which I counted are +perhaps still faithful to me, but much too weak; the Hebrews, who tend +their flocks here, and whom I gained over by liberating them from forced +labor, have never borne arms. And you know the people. They will kiss +the feet of the conqueror if they have to wade up to there through the +blood of their children. Besides--as it happens--the hawk which old Hekt +keeps as representing me is to-day pining and sick--” + +“It will be all the prouder and brighter to-morrow if you are a man!” + exclaimed Katuti, and her eyes sparkled with scorn. “You cannot now +retreat. Here in Pelusium you welcome Rameses as if he were a God, +and he accepts the honor. I know the king, he is too proud to be +distrustful, and so conceited that he can never believe himself deceived +in any man, either friend or foe. The man whom he appointed to be his +Regent, whom he designated as the worthiest in the land, he will most +unwillingly condemn. Today you still have the car of the king; to-morrow +he will listen to your enemies, and too much has occurred in Thebes to +be blotted out. You are in the position of a lion who has his keeper on +one side, and the bars of his cage on the other. If you let the moment +pass without striking you will remain in the cage; but if you act and +show yourself a lion your keepers are done for!” + +“You urge me on and on,” said Ani. “But supposing your plan were to +fail, as Paaker’s well considered plot failed?” + +“Then you are no worse off than you are now,” answered Katuti. “The +Gods rule the elements, not men. Is it likely that you should finish so +beautiful a structure with such care only to destroy it? And we have no +accomplices, and need none.” + +“But who shall set the brand to the room which Nemu and the slave have +filled with straw and pitch?” asked Ani. + +“I,” said Katuti decidedly. “And one who has nothing to look for from +Rameses.” + +“Who is that?” + +“Paaker.” + +“Is the Mohar here?” asked the Regent surprised. + +“You yourself have seen him.” + +“You are mistaken,” said Ani. “I should--” + +“Do you recollect the one-eyed, grey-haired, blackman, who yesterday +brought me a letter? That was my sister’s son.” + +The Regent struck his forehead--“Poor wretch” he muttered. + +“He is frightfully altered,” said Katuti. “He need not have blackened +his face, for his own mother would not know him again: He lost an eye in +his fight with Mena, who also wounded him in the lungs with a thrust +of his sword, so that he breathes and speaks with difficulty, his broad +shoulders have lost their flesh, and the fine legs he swaggered about on +have shrunk as thin as a negro’s. I let him pass as my servant without +any hesitation or misgiving. He does not yet know of my purpose, but I +am sure that he would help us if a thousand deaths threatened him. For +God’s sake put aside all doubts and fears! We will shake the tree for +you, if you will only hold out your hand to-morrow to pick up the fruit. +Only one thing I must beg. Command the head butler not to stint the +wine, so that the guards may give us no trouble. I know that you gave +the order that only three of the five ships which brought the contents +of your winelofts should be unloaded. I should have thought that the +future king of Egypt might have been less anxious to save!” + +Katuti’s lips curled with contempt as she spoke the last words. Ani +observed this and said: + +“You think I am timid! Well, I confess I would far rather that much +which I have done at your instigation could be undone. I would willingly +renounce this new plot, though we so carefully planned it when we built +and decorated this palace. I will sacrifice the wine; there are jars of +wine there that were old in my father’s time--but it must be so! You are +right! Many things have occurred which the king will not forgive! You +are right, you are right--do what seems good to you. I will retire after +the feast to the Ethiopian camp.” + +“They will hail you as king as soon as the usurpers have fallen in the +flames,” cried Katuti. “If only a few set the example, the others will +take up the cry, and even though you have offended Ameni he will attach +himself to you rather than to Rameses. Here he comes, and I already see +the standards in the distance.” + +“They are coming!” said the Regent. “One thing more! Pray see yourself +that the princess Bent-Anat goes to the rooms intended for her; she must +not be injured.” + +“Still Bent-Anat?” said Katuti with a smile full of meaning but without +bitterness. “Be easy, her rooms are on the ground floor, and she shall +be warned in time.” + +Ani turned to leave her; he glanced once more at the great hall, and +said with a sigh. “My heart is heavy--I wish this day and this night +were over!” + +“You are like this grand hall,” said Katuti smiling, “which is now +empty, almost dismal; but this evening, when it is crowded with guests, +it will look very different. You were born to be a king, and yet are not +a king; you will not be quite yourself till the crown and sceptre are +your own.” + +Ani smiled too, thanked her, and left her; but Katuti said to herself: + +“Bent-Anat may burn with the rest: I have no intention of sharing my +power with her!” + +Crowds of men and women from all parts had thronged to Pelusium, to +welcome the conqueror and his victorious army on the frontier. Every +great temple-college had sent a deputation to meet Rameses, that from +the Necropolis consisting of five members, with Ameni and old Gagabu +at their head. The white-robed ministers of the Gods marched in solemn +procession towards the bridge which lay across the eastern-Pelusiac-arm +of the Nile, and led to Egypt proper--the land fertilized by the waters +of the sacred stream. + +The deputation from the temple of Memphis led the procession; this +temple had been founded by Mena, the first king who wore the united +crowns of Upper and Lower Egypt, and Chamus, the king’s son, was the +high-priest. The deputation from the not less important temple of +Heliopolis came next, and was followed by the representatives of the +Necropolis of Thebes. + +A few only of the members of these deputations wore the modest +white robe of the simple priest; most of them were invested with the +panther-skin which was worn by the prophets. Each bore a staff decorated +with roses, lilies, and green branches, and many carried censers in the +form of a golden arm with incense in the hollow of the hand, to be burnt +before the king. Among the deputies from the priesthood at Thebes were +several women of high rank, who served in the worship of this God, and +among them was Katuti, who by the particular desire of the Regent had +lately been admitted to this noble sisterhood. + +Ameni walked thoughtfully by the side of the prophet Gagabu. + +“How differently everything has happened from what we hoped and +intended!” said Gagabu in a low voice. “We are like ambassadors with +sealed credentials--who can tell their contents?” + +“I welcome Rameses heartily and joyfully,” said Ameni. “After that which +happened to him at Kadesh he will come home a very different man to what +he was when he set out. He knows now what he owes to Amon. His favorite +son was already at the head of the ministers of the temple at Memphis, +and he has vowed to build magnificent temples and to bring splendid +offerings to the Immortals. And Rameses keeps his word better than that +smiling simpleton in the chariot yonder.” + +“Still I am sorry for Ani,” said Gagabu. + +“The Pharaoh will not punish him--certainly not,” replied the +high-priest. “And he will have nothing to fear from Ani; he is a feeble +reed, the powerless sport of every wind.” + +“And yet you hoped for great things from him!” + +“Not from him, but through him--with us for his guides,” replied Ameni +in a low voice but with emphasis. “It is his own fault that I have +abandoned his cause. Our first wish--to spare the poet Pentaur--he would +not respect, and he did not hesitate to break his oath, to betray us, +and to sacrifice one of the noblest of God’s creatures, as the poet +was, to gratify a petty grudge. It is harder to fight against cunning +weakness than against honest enmity. Shall we reward the man who has +deprived the world of Pentaur by giving him a crown? It is hard to quit +the trodden way, and seek a better--to give up a half-executed plan and +take a more promising one; it is hard, I say, for the individual man, +and makes him seem fickle in the eyes of others; but we cannot see to +the right hand and the left, and if we pursue a great end we cannot +remain within the narrow limits which are set by law and custom to the +actions of private individuals. We draw back just as we seem to have +reached the goal, we let him fall whom we had raised, and lift him, +whom we had stricken to the earth, to the pinnacle of glory, in short +we profess--and for thousands of years have professed--the doctrine that +every path is a right one that leads to the great end of securing to the +priesthood the supreme power in the land. Rameses, saved by a miracle, +vowing temples to the Gods, will for the future exhaust his restless +spirit not in battle as a warrior, but in building as an architect. He +will make use of us, and we can always lead the man who needs us. So I +now hail the son of Seti with sincere joy.” + +Ameni was still speaking when the flags were hoisted on the standards by +the triumphal arches, clouds of dust rolled up on the farther shore of +the Nile, and the blare of trumpets was heard. + +First came the horses which had carried Rameses through the fight, with +the king himself, who drove them. His eyes sparkled with joyful triumph +as the people on the farther side of the bridge received him with shouts +of joy, and the vast multitude hailed him with wild enthusiasm and tears +of emotion, strewing in his path the spoils of their gardens-flowers, +garlands, and palm-branches. + +Ani marched at the head of the procession that went forth to meet +him; he humbly threw himself in the dust before the horses, kissed +the ground, and then presented to the king the sceptre that had +been entrusted to him, lying on a silk cushion. The king received it +graciously, and when Ani took his robe to kiss it, the king bent down +towards him, and touching the Regent’s forehead with his lips, desired +him to take the place by his side in the chariot, and fill the office of +charioteer. + +The king’s eyes were moist with grateful emotion. He had not been +deceived, and he could re-enter the country for whose greatness and +welfare alone he lived, as a father, loving and beloved, and not as +a master to judge and punish. He was deeply moved as he accepted the +greetings of the priests, and with them offered up a public prayer. Then +he was conducted to the splendid structure which had been prepared for +him gaily mounted the outside steps, and from the top-most stair +bowed to his innumerable crowd of subjects; and while he awaited the +procession from the harbor which escorted Bent-Anat in her litter, he +inspected the thousand decorated bulls and antelopes which were to +be slaughtered as a thank-offering to the Gods, the tame lions and +leopards, the rare trees in whose branches perched gaily-colored birds, +the giraffes, and chariots to which ostriches were harnessed, which all +marched past him in a long array. + + [The splendor of the festivities I make Ani prepare seems pitiful + compared with those Ptolemy Philadelphus, according to the report of + an eye witness, Callexenus, displayed to the Alexandrians on a + festal occasion.] + +Rameses embraced his daughter before all the people; he felt as if he +must admit his subjects to the fullest sympathy in the happiness and +deep thankfulness which filled his soul. His favorite child had never +seemed to him so beautiful as this day, and he realized with deep +emotion her strong resemblance to his lost wife.--[Her name was Isis +Nefert.] + +Nefert had accompanied her royal friend as fanbearer, and she knelt +before the king while he gave himself up to the delight of meeting his +daughter. Then he observed her, and kindly desired her to rise. “How +much,” he said, “I am feeling to-day for the first time! I have already +learned that what I formerly thought of as the highest happiness +is capable of a yet higher pitch, and I now perceive that the most +beautiful is capable of growing to greater beauty! A sun has grown from +Mena’s star.” + +Rameses, as he spoke, remembered his charioteer; for a moment his brow +was clouded, and he cast down his eyes, and bent his head in thought. + +Bent-Anat well knew this gesture of her father’s; it was the omen of +some kindly, often sportive suggestion, such as he loved to surprise his +friends with. + +He reflected longer than usual; at last he looked up, and his full eyes +rested lovingly on his daughter as he asked her: + +“What did your friend say when she heard that her husband had taken a +pretty stranger into his tent, and harbored her there for months? Tell +me the whole truth of it, Bent-Anat.” + +“I am indebted to this deed of Mena’s, which must certainly be quite +excusable if you can smile when you speak of it,” said the princess, +“for it was the cause of his wife’s coming to me. Her mother blamed her +husband with bitter severity, but she would not cease to believe in him, +and left her house because it was impossible for her to endure to hear +him blamed.” + +“Is this the fact?” asked Rameses. + +Nefert bowed her pretty head, and two tears ran down her blushing +cheeks. + +“How good a man must be,” cried the king, “on whom the Gods bestow such +happiness! My lord Chamberlain, inform Mena that I require his services +at dinner to-day--as before the battle at Kadesh. He flung away the +reins in the fight when he saw his enemy, and we shall see if he can +keep from flinging down the beaker when, with his own eyes, he sees +his beloved wife sitting at the table.--You ladies will join me at the +banquet.” + +Nefert sank on her knees before the king; but he turned from her to +speak to the nobles and officers who had come to meet him, and then +proceeded to the temple to assist at the slaughter of the victims, and +to solemnly renew his vow in the presence of the priests and the people, +to erect a magnificent temple in Thebes as a thank-offering for his +preservation from death. He was received with rapturous enthusiasm; his +road led to the harbor, past the tents in which lay the wounded, who had +been brought home to Egypt by ship, and he greeted them graciously from +his chariot. + +Ani again acted as his charioteer; they drove slowly through the long +ranks of invalids and convalescents, but suddenly Ani gave the reins an +involuntary pull, the horses reared, and it was with difficulty that he +soothed them to a steady pace again. + +Rameses looked round in anxious surprise, for at the moment when the +horses had started, he too had felt an agitating thrill--he thought he +had caught sight of his preserver at Kadesh. + +Had the sight of a God struck terror into the horses? Was he the victim +of a delusion? or was his preserver a man of flesh and blood, who had +come home from the battle-field among the wounded! + +The man who stood by his side, and held the reins, could have informed +him, for Ani had recognized Pentaur, and in his horror had given the +reins a perilous jerk. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + +The king did not return to the great pavilion till after sun-down; the +banqueting hall, illuminated with a thousand lamps, was now filled with +the gay crowd of guests who awaited the arrival of the king. All bowed +before him, as he entered, more or less low, each according to his rank; +he immediately seated himself on his throne, surrounded by his children +in a wide semicircle, and his officers and retainers all passed before +him; for each he had a kindly word or glance, winning respect from all, +and filling every one with joy and hope. + +“The only really divine attribute of my royal condition,” said he +to himself, “is that it is so easy to a king to make men happy. +My predecessors chose the poisonous Uraeus as the emblem of their +authority, for we can cause death as quickly and certainly as the +venomous snake; but the power of giving happiness dwells on our own +lips, and in our own eyes, and we need some instrument when we decree +death.” + +“Take the Uraeus crown from my head,” he continued aloud, as he seated +himself at the feast. “Today I will wear a wreath of flowers.” + +During the ceremony of bowing to the king, two men had quitted the +hall--the Regent Ani, and the high-priest Ameni. + +Ani ordered a small party of the watch to go and seek out the priest +Pentaur in the tents of the wounded by the harbor, to bring the poet +quietly to his tent, and to guard him there till his return. He still +had in his possession the maddening potion, which he was to have given +to the captain of the transport-boat, and it was open to him still to +receive Pentaur either as a guest or as a prisoner. Pentaur might injure +him, whether Katuti’s project failed or succeeded. + +Ameni left the pavilion to go to see old Gagabu, who had stood so long +in the heat of the sun during the ceremony of receiving the conqueror, +that he had been at last carried fainting to the tent which he shared +with the high-priest, and which was not far from that of the Regent. He +found the old man much revived, and was preparing to mount his chariot +to go to the banquet, when the Regent’s myrmidons led Pentaur past in +front of him. Ameni looked doubtfully at the tall and noble figure of +the prisoner, but Pentaur recognized him, called him by his name, and +in a moment they stood together, hand clasped in hand. The guards showed +some uneasiness, but Ameni explained who he was. + +The high-priest was sincerely rejoiced at the preservation and +restoration of his favorite disciple, whom for many months he had +mourned as dead; he looked at his manly figure with fatherly tenderness, +and desired the guards, who bowed to his superior dignity, to conduct +his friend, on his responsibility; to his tent instead of to Ani’s. + +There Pentaur found his old friend Gagabu, who wept with delight at his +safety. All that his master had accused him of seemed to be forgotten. +Ameni had him clothed in a fresh white robe, he was never tired of +looking at him, and over and over again clapped his hand upon his +shoulder, as if he were his own son that had been lost and found again. + +Pentaur was at once required to relate all that had happened to him, and +the poet told the story of his captivity and liberation at Mount Sinai, +his meeting with Bent-Anat, and how he had fought in the battle of +Kadesh, had been wounded by an arrow, and found and rescued by the +faithful Kaschta. He concealed only his passion for Bent-Anat, and the +fact that he had preserved the king’s life. + +“About an hour ago,” he added, “I was sitting alone in my tent, watching +the lights in the palace yonder, when the watch who are outside brought +me an order from the Regent to accompany them to his tent. What can he +want with me? I always thought he owed me a grudge.” + +Gagabu and Ameni glanced meaningly at each other, and the high-priest +then hastened away, as already he had remained too long away from the +banquet. Before he got into his chariot he commanded the guard to return +to their posts, and took it upon himself to inform the Regent that his +guest would remain in his tent till the festival was over; the soldiers +unhesitatingly obeyed him. + +Ameni arrived at the palace before them, and entered the banqueting-hall +just as Ani was assigning a place to each of his guests. The high-priest +went straight up to him, and said, as he bowed before him: + +“Pardon my long delay, but I was detained by a great surprise. The poet +Pentaur is living--as you know. I have invited him to remain in my tent +as my guest, and to tend the prophet Gagabu.” + +The Regent turned pale, he remained speechless and looked at Ameni with +a cold ghastly smile; but he soon recovered himself. + +“You see,” he said, “how you have injured me by your unworthy +suspicions; I meant to have restored your favorite to you myself +to-morrow.” + +“Forgive me, then, for having anticipated your plan,” said Ameni, taking +his seat near the king. Hundreds of slaves hurried to and fro loaded +with costly dishes. Large vessels of richly wrought gold and silver were +brought into the hall on wheels, and set on the side-boards. Children +were perched in the shells and lotus-flowers that hung from the painted +rafters; and from between the pillars, that were hung with cloudy +transparent tissues, they threw roses and violets down on the company. +The sounds of harps and songs issued from concealed rooms, and from an +altar, six ells high, in the middle of the hall, clouds of incense were +wafted into space. + +The king-one of whose titles was “Son of the Sun,”--was as radiant as +the sun himself. His children were once more around him, Mena was his +cupbearer as in former times, and all that was best and noblest in the +land was gathered round him to rejoice with him in his triumph and his +return. Opposite to him sat the ladies, and exactly in front of him, +a delight to his eyes, Bent-Anat and Nefert. His injunction to Mena to +hold the wine cup steadily seemed by no means superfluous, for his looks +constantly wandered from the king’s goblet to his fair wife, from whose +lips he as yet had heard no word of welcome, whose hand he had not yet +been so happy as to touch. + +All the guests were in the most joyful excitement. Rameses related the +tale of his fight at Kadesh, and the high-priest of Heliopolis observed, +“In later times the poets will sing of thy deeds.” + +“Their songs will not be of my achievements,” exclaimed the king, +“but of the grace of the Divinity, who so miraculously rescued your +sovereign, and gave the victory to the Egyptians over an innumerable +enemy.” + +“Did you see the God with your own eyes? and in what form did he appear +to you?” asked Bent-Anat. “It is most extraordinary,” said the king, +“but he exactly resembled the dead father of the traitor Paaker. My +preserver was of tall stature, and had a beautiful countenance; his +voice was deep and thrilling, and he swung his battle-axe as if it were +a mere plaything.” + +Ameni had listened eagerly to the king’s words, now he bowed low before +him and said humbly: “If I were younger I myself would endeavor, as was +the custom with our fathers, to celebrate this glorious deed of a God +and of his sublime son in a song worthy of this festival; but melting +tones are no longer mine, they vanish with years, and the car of the +listener lends itself only to the young. Nothing is wanting to thy +feast, most lordly Ani, but a poet, who might sing the glorious deeds +of our monarch to the sound of his lute, and yet--we have at hand the +gifted Pentaur, the noblest disciple of the House of Seti.” + +Bent-Anat turned perfectly white, and the priests who were present +expressed the utmost joy and astonishment, for they had long thought the +young poet, who was highly esteemed throughout Egypt, to be dead. + +The king had often heard of the fame of Pentaur from his sons and +especially from Rameri, and he willingly consented that Ameni should +send for the poet, who had himself borne arms at Kadesh, in order that +he should sing a song of triumph. The Regent gazed blankly and uneasily +into his wine cup, and the high-priest rose to fetch Pentaur himself +into the presence of the king. + +During the high-priest’s absence, more and more dishes were served to +the company; behind each guest stood a silver bowl with rose water, in +which from time to time he could dip his fingers to cool and clean them; +the slaves in waiting were constantly at hand with embroidered napkins +to wipe them, and others frequently changed the faded wreaths, round the +heads and shoulders of the feasters, for fresh ones. + +“How pale you are, my child!” said Rameses turning to Bent-Anat. “If you +are tired, your uncle will no doubt allow you to leave the hall; though +I think you should stay to hear the performance of this much-lauded +poet. After having been so highly praised he will find it difficult to +satisfy his hearers. But indeed I am uneasy about you, my child--would +you rather go?” The Regent had risen and said earnestly, “Your presence +has done me honor, but if you are fatigued I beg you to allow me to +conduct you and your ladies to the apartments intended for you.” + +“I will stay,” said Bent-Anat in a low but decided tone, and she kept +her eyes on the floor, while her heart beat violently, for the murmur +of voices told her that Pentaur was entering the hall. He wore the long +white robe of a priest of the temple of Seti, and on his forehead the +ostrich-feather which marked him as one of the initiated. He did not +raise his eyes till he stood close before the king; then he prostrated +himself before him, and awaited a sign from the Pharaoh before he rose +again. + +But Rameses hesitated a long time, for the youthful figure before him, +and the glance that met his own, moved him strangely. Was not this the +divinity of the fight? Was not this his preserver? Was he again deluded +by a resemblance, or was he in a dream? + +The guests gazed in silence at the spellbound king, and at the poet; at +last Rameses bowed his head, + +Pentaur rose to his feet, and the bright color flew to his face as close +to him he perceived Bent-Anat. + +“You fought at Kadesh?” asked the king. “As thou sayest,” replied +Pentaur. + +“You are well spoken of as a poet,” said Rameses, “and we desire to hear +the wonderful tale of my preservation celebrated in song. If you will +attempt it, let a lute be brought and sing.” + +The poet bowed. “My gifts are modest,” he said, “but I will endeavor to +sing of the glorious deed, in the presence of the hero who achieved it, +with the aid of the Gods.” + +Rameses gave a signal, and Ameni caused a large golden harp to be +brought in for his disciple. Pentaur lightly touched the strings, leaned +his head against the top of the tall bow of the harp, for some time lest +in meditation; then he drew himself up boldly, and struck the chords, +bringing out a strong and warlike music in broad heroic rhythm. + +Then he began the narrative: how Rameses had pitched his camp before +Kadesh, how he ordered his troops, and how he had taken the field +against the Cheta, and their Asiatic allies. Louder and stronger rose +his tones when he reached the turning-point of the battle, and began to +celebrate the rescue of the king; and the Pharaoh listened with eager +attention as Pentaur sang:--[A literal translation of the ancient +Egyptian poem called “The Epos of Pentaur”] + + “Then the king stood forth, and, radiant with courage, + He looked like the Sun-god armed and eager for battle. + The noble steeds that bore him into the struggle + ‘Victory to Thebes’ was the name of one, and the other + Was called ‘contented Nura’--were foaled in the stables + Of him we call ‘the elect,’ ‘the beloved of Amon,’ + ‘Lord of truth,’ the chosen vicar of Ra. + + Up sprang the king and threw himself on the foe, + The swaying ranks of the contemptible Cheta. + He stood alone-alone, and no man with him. + As thus the king stood forth all eyes were upon him, + And soon he was enmeshed by men and horses, + And by the enemy’s chariots: two thousand five hundred. + The foe behind hemmed him in and enclosed him. + Dense the array of the contemptible Cheta, + Dense the swarm of warriors out of Arad, + Dense the Mysian host, the Pisidian legions. + Every chariot carried three bold warriors, + All his foes, and all allied like brothers. + + “Not a prince is with me, not a captain, + Not an archer, none to guide my horses! + Fled the riders! fled my troops and horse + By my side not one is now left standing.” + Thus the king, and raised his voice in prayer. + “Great father Amon, I have known Thee well. + And can the father thus forget his son? + Have I in any deed forgotten Thee? + Have I done aught without Thy high behest + Or moved or staid against Thy sovereign will? + Great am I--mighty are Egyptian kings + But in the sight of Thy commanding might, + Small as the chieftain of a wandering tribe. + Immortal Lord, crush Thou this unclean people; + Break Thou their necks, annihilate the heathen. + + And I--have I not brought Thee many victims, + And filled Thy temple with the captive folk? + And for thy presence built a dwelling place + That shall endure for countless years to come? + Thy garners overflow with gifts from me. + I offered Thee the world to swell Thy glory, + And thirty thousand mighty steers have shed + Their smoking blood on fragrant cedar piles. + Tall gateways, flag-decked masts, I raised to Thee, + And obelisks from Abu I have brought, + And built Thee temples of eternal stone. + For Thee my ships have brought across the sea + The tribute of the nations. This I did-- + When were such things done in the former time? + + For dark the fate of him who would rebel + Against Thee: though Thy sway is just and mild. + My father, Amon--as an earthly son + His earthly father--so I call on Thee. + Look down from heaven on me, beset by foes, + By heathen foes--the folk that know Thee not. + The nations have combined against Thy son; + I stand alone--alone, and no man with me. + My foot and horse are fled, I called aloud + And no one heard--in vain I called to them. + And yet I say: the sheltering care of Amon + Is better succor than a million men, + Or than ten thousand knights, or than a thousand + Brothers and sons though gathered into one. + And yet I say: the bulwarks raised by men + However strong, compared to Thy great works + Are but vain shadows, and no human aid + Avails against the foe--but Thy strong hand. + The counsel of Thy lips shall guide my way; + I have obeyed whenever Thou hast ruled; + I call on Thee--and, with my fame, Thy glory + Shall fill the world, from farthest east to west.” + + Yea, his cry rang forth even far as Hermonthis, + And Amon himself appeared at his call; and gave him + His hand and shouted in triumph, saying to the Pharaoh: + “Help is at hand, O Rameses. I will uphold thee-- + I thy father am he who now is thy succor, + Bearing thee in my hands. For stronger and readier + I than a hundred thousand mortal retainers; + I am the Lord of victory loving valor? + I rejoice in the brave and give them good counsel, + And he whom I counsel certainly shall not miscarry.” + + Then like Menth, with his right he scattered the arrows, + And with his left he swung his deadly weapon, + Felling the foe--as his foes are felled by Baal. + The chariots were broken and the drivers scattered, + Then was the foe overthrown before his horses. + None found a hand to fight: they could not shoot + Nor dared they hurl the spear but fled at his coming + Headlong into the river.” + + [I have availed myself of the help of Prof. Lushington’s translation + in “Records of the past,” edited by Dr. S. Birch. Translator.] + +A silence as of the grave reigned in the vast hall, Rameses fixed his +eyes on the poet, as though he would engrave his features on his very +soul, and compare them with those of another which had dwelt there +unforgotten since the day of Kadesh. Beyond a doubt his preserver stood +before him. + +Seized by a sudden impulse, he interrupted the poet in the midst of his +stirring song, and cried out to the assembled guests: + +“Pay honor to this man! for the Divinity chose to appear under his form +to save your king when he ‘alone, and no man with him,’ struggled with a +thousand.” + +“Hail to Pentaur!” rang through the hall from the vast assembly, and +Nefert rose and gave the poet the bunch of flowers she had been wearing +on her bosom. + +The king nodded approval, and looked enquiringly at his daughter; +Bent-Anat’s eyes met his with a glance of intelligence, and with all the +simplicity of an impulsive child, she took from her head the wreath that +had decorated her beautiful hair, went up to Pentaur, and crowned him +with it, as it was customary for a bride to crown her lover before the +wedding. + +Rameses observed his daughter’s action with some surprise, and the +guests responded to it with loud cheering. + +The king looked gravely at Bent-Anat and the young priest; the eyes of +all the company were eagerly fixed on the princess and the poet. The +king seemed to have forgotten the presence of strangers, and to be +wholly absorbed in thought, but by degrees a change came over his face, +it cleared, as a landscape is cleared from the morning mists under the +influence of the spring sunshine. When he looked up again his glance +was bright and satisfied, and Bent-Anat knew what it promised when it +lingered lovingly first on her, and then on her friend, whose head was +still graced by the wreath that had crowned hers. + +At last Rameses turned from the lovers, and said to the guests: + +“It is past midnight, and I will now leave you. To-morrow evening I bid +you all--and you especially, Pentaur--to be my guests in this banqueting +hall. Once more fill your cups, and let us empty them--to a long time of +peace after the victory which, by the help of the Gods, we have won. +And at the same time let us express our thanks to my friend Ani, who has +entertained us so magnificently, and who has so faithfully and zealously +administered the affairs of the kingdom during my absence.” + +The company pledged the king, who warmly shook hands with the Regent, +and then, escorted by his wandbearers and lords in waiting, quitted the +hall, after he had signed to Mena, Ameni, and the ladies to follow him. + +Nefert greeted her husband, but she immediately parted from the royal +party, as she had yielded to the urgent entreaty of Katuti that she +should for this night go to her mother, to whom she had so much to tell, +instead of remaining with the princess. Her mother’s chariot soon took +her to her tent. + +Rameses dismissed his attendants in the ante-room of his apartments; +when they were alone he turned to Bent-Anat and said affectionately. + +“What was in your mind when you laid your wreath on the poet’s brow?” + +“What is in every maiden’s mind when she does the like,” replied +Bent-Anat with trustful frankness. + +“And your father?” asked the king. + +“My father knows that I will obey him even if he demands of me the +hardest thing--the sacrifice of all my--happiness; but I believe that +he--that you love me fondly, and I do not forget the hour in which you +said to me that now my mother was dead you would be father and mother +both to me, and you would try to understand me as she certainly would +have understood me. But what need between us of so many words. I love +Pentaur--with a love that is not of yesterday--with the first perfect +love of my heart and he has proved himself worthy of that high honor. +But were he ever so humble, the hand of your daughter has the power to +raise him above every prince in the land.” + +“It has such power, and you shall exercise it,” cried the king. “You +have been true and faithful to yourself, while your father and protector +left you to yourself. In you I love the image of your mother, and I +learned from her that a true woman’s heart can find the right path +better than a man’s wisdom. Now go to rest, and to-morrow morning put on +a fresh wreath, for you will have need of it, my noble daughter.” + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +The cloudless vault of heaven spread over the plain of Pelusium, the +stars were bright, the moon threw her calm light over the thousands of +tents which shone as white as little hillocks of snow. All was silent, +the soldiers and the Egyptians, who had assembled to welcome the king, +were now all gone to rest. + +There had been great rejoicing and jollity in the camp; three enormous +vats, garlanded with flowers and overflowing with wine, which spilt with +every movement of the trucks on which they were drawn by thirty oxen, +were sent up and down the little streets of tents, and as the evening +closed in tavern-booths were erected in many spots in the camp, at which +the Regent’s servants supplied the soldiers with red and white wine. The +tents of the populace were only divided from the pavilion of the Pharaoh +by the hastily-constructed garden in the midst of which it stood, and +the hedge which enclosed it. + +The tent of the Regent himself was distinguished from all the others by +its size and magnificence; to the right of it was the encampment of the +different priestly deputations, to the left that of his suite; among the +latter were the tents of his friend Katuti, a large one for her own use, +and some smaller ones for her servants. Behind Ani’s pavilion stood a +tent, enclosed in a wall or screen of canvas, within which old Hekt was +lodged; Ani had secretly conveyed her hither on board his own boat. Only +Katuti and his confidential servants knew who it was that lay concealed +in the mysteriously shrouded abode. + +While the banquet was proceeding in the great pavilion, the witch was +sitting in a heap on the sandy earth of her conical canvas dwelling; she +breathed with difficulty, for a weakness of the heart, against which she +had long struggled, now oppressed her more frequently and severely; a +little lamp of clay burned before her, and on her lap crouched a sick +and ruffled hawk; the creature shivered from time to time, closing the +filmy lids of his keen eyes, which glowed with a dull fire when Hekt +took him up in her withered hand, and tried to blow some air into his +hooked beak, still ever ready to peck and tear her. + +At her feet little Scherau lay asleep. Presently she pushed the child +with her foot. “Wake up,” she said, as he raised himself still half +asleep. “You have young ears--it seemed to me that I heard a woman +scream in Ani’s tent. Do you hear any thing?” + +“Yes, indeed,” exclaimed the little one. “There is a noise like crying, +and that--that was a scream! It came from out there, from Nemu’s tent.” + +“Creep through there,” said the witch, “and see what is happening!” + +The child obeyed: Hekt turned her attention again to the bird, which no +longer perched in her lap, but lay on one side, though it still tried to +use its talons, when she took him up in her hand. + +“It is all over with him,” muttered the old woman, “and the one I called +Rameses is sleeker than ever. It is all folly and yet--and yet! the +Regent’s game is over, and he has lost it. The creature is stretching +itself--its head drops--it draws itself up--one more clutch at my +dress--now it is dead!” + +She contemplated the dead hawk in her lap for some minutes, then she +took it up, flung it into a corner of the tent, and exclaimed: + +“Good-bye, King Ani. The crown is not for you!” Then she went on: “What +project has he in hand now, I wonder? Twenty times he has asked me +whether the great enterprise will succeed; as if I knew any more than +he! And Nemu too has hinted all kinds of things, though he would not +speak out. Something is going on, and I--and I? There it comes again.” + +The old woman pressed her hand to her heart and closed her eyes, her +features were distorted with pain; she did not perceive Scherau’s +return, she did not hear him call her name, or see that, when she did +not answer him, he left her again. For an hour or more she remained +unconscious, then her senses returned, but she felt as if some ice-cold +fluid slowly ran through her veins instead of the warm blood. + +“If I had kept a hawk for myself too,” she muttered, “it would soon +follow the other one in the corner! If only Ani keeps his word, and has +me embalmed! + +“But how can he when he too is so near his end. They will let me rot and +disappear, and there will be no future for me, no meeting with Assa.” + +The old woman remained silent for a long time; at last she murmured +hoarsely with her eyes fixed on the ground: + +“Death brings release, if only from the torment of remembrance. But +there is a life beyond the grave. I do not, I will not cease to hope. +The dead shall all be equally judged, and subject to the inscrutable +decrees.--Where shall I find him? Among the blest, or among the damned? +And I? It matters not! The deeper the abyss into which they fling me +the better. Can Assa, if he is among the blest, remain in bliss, when he +sees to what he has brought me? Oh! they must embalm me--I cannot bear +to vanish, and rot and evaporate into nothingness!” + +While she was still speaking, the dwarf Nemu had come into the tent; +Scherau, seeing the old woman senseless, had run to tell him that his +mother was lying on the earth with her eyes shut, and was dying. The +witch perceived the little man. + +“It is well,” she said, “that you have come; I shall be dead before +sunrise.” + +“Mother!” cried the dwarf horrified, “you shall live, and live better +than you have done till now! Great things are happening, and for us!” + +“I know, I know,” said Hekt. “Go away, Scherau--now, Nemu, whisper in +my ear what is doing?” The dwarf felt as if he could not avoid the +influence of her eye, he went up to her, and said softly--“The pavilion, +in which the king and his people are sleeping, is constructed of wood; +straw and pitch are built into the walls, and laid under the boards. As +soon as they are gone to rest we shall set the tinder thing on fire. The +guards are drunk and sleeping.” + +“Well thought of,” said Hekt. “Did you plan it?” “I and my mistress,” + said the dwarf not without pride. “You can devise a plot,” said the old +woman, “but you are feeble in the working out. Is your plan a secret? +Have you clever assistants?” + +“No one knows of it,” replied the dwarf, “but Katuti, Paaker, and I; we +three shall lay the brands to the spots we have fixed upon. I am going +to the rooms of Bent-Anat; Katuti, who can go in and out as she pleases, +will set fire to the stairs, which lead to the upper story, and which +fall by touching a spring; and Paaker to the king’s apartments.” + +“Good-good, it may succeed,” gasped the old woman. “But what was the +scream in your tent?” The dwarf seemed doubtful about answering; but +Hekt went on: + +“Speak without fear--the dead are sure to be silent.” The dwarf, +trembling with agitation, shook off his hesitation, and said: + +“I have found Uarda, the grandchild of Pinem, who had disappeared, and I +decoyed her here, for she and no other shall be my wife, if Ani is +king, and if Katuti makes me rich and free. She is in the service of +the Princess Bent-Anat, and sleeps in her anteroom, and she must not be +burnt with her mistress. She insisted on going back to the palace, so, +as she would fly to the fire like a gnat, and I would not have her risk +being burnt, I tied her up fast.” + +“Did she not struggle?” said Hekt. + +“Like a mad thing,” said the dwarf. “But the Regent’s dumb slave, who +was ordered by his master to obey me in everything to-day, helped me. We +tied up her mouth that she might not be heard screaming!” + +“Will you leave her alone when you go to do your errand?” + +“Her father is with her!” + +“Kaschta, the red-beard?” asked the old woman in surprise. “And did he +not break you in pieces like an earthenware pot?” + +“He will not stir,” said Nemu laughing. “For when I found him, I made +him so drunk with Ani’s old wine that he lies there like a mummy. It was +from him that I learned where Uarda was, and I went to her, and got her +to come with me by telling her that her father was very ill, and begged +her to go to see him once more. She flew after me like a gazelle, and +when she saw the soldier lying there senseless she threw herself upon +him, and called for water to cool his head, for he was raving in his +dreams of rats and mice that had fallen upon him. As it grew late she +wanted to return to her mistress, and we were obliged to prevent her. +How handsome she has grown, mother; you cannot imagine how pretty she +is.” + +“Aye, aye!” said Hekt. “You will have to keep an eye upon her when she +is your wife.” + +“I will treat her like the wife of a noble,” said Nemu. “And pay a +real lady to guard her. But by this time Katuti has brought home her +daughter, Mena’s wife; the stars are sinking and--there--that was the +first signal. When Katuti whistles the third time we are to go to work. +Lend me your fire-box, mother.” + +“Take it,” said Hekt. “I shall never need it again. It is all over with +me! How your hand shakes! Hold the wood firmly, or you will drop it +before you have brought the fire.” + +The dwarf bid the old woman farewell, and she let him kiss her without +moving. When he was gone, she listened eagerly for any sound that might +pierce the silence of the night, her eyes shone with a keen light, and +a thousand thoughts flew through her restless brain. When she heard the +second signal on Katuti’s silver whistle, she sat upright and muttered: + +“That gallows-bird Paaker, his vain aunt and that villain Ani, are no +match for Rameses, even when he is asleep. Ani’s hawk is dead; he has +nothing to hope for from Fortune, and I nothing to hope for from him. +But if Rameses--if the real king would promise me--then my poor old +body--Yes, that is the thing, that is what I will do.” + +She painfully raised herself on her feet with the help of her stick, she +found a knife and a small flask which she slipped into her dress, and +then, bent and trembling, with a last effort of her remaining strength +she dragged herself as far as Nemu’s tent. Here she found Uarda bound +hand and foot, and Kaschta lying on the ground in a heavy drunken +slumber. + +The girl shrank together in alarm when she saw the old woman, and +Scherau, who crouched at her side, raised his hands imploringly to the +witch. + +“Take this knife, boy,” she said to the little one. “Cut the ropes the +poor thing is tied with. The papyrus cords are strong, saw them with the +blade.” + + [Papyrus was used not only for writing on, but also for ropes. The + bridge of boats on which Xerxes crossed the Hellespont was fastened + with cables of papyrus.] + +While the boy eagerly followed her instructions with all his little +might, she rubbed the soldier’s temples with an essence which she had in +the bottle, and poured a few drops of it between his lips. Kaschta came +to himself, stretched his limbs, and stared in astonishment at the place +in which he found himself. She gave him some water, and desired him to +drink it, saying, as Uarda shook herself free from the bonds: + +“The Gods have predestined you to great things, you white maiden. Listen +to what I, old Hekt, am telling you. The king’s life is threatened, +his and his children’s; I purpose to save them, and I ask no reward but +this-that he should have my body embalmed and interred at Thebes. Swear +to me that you will require this of him when you have saved him.” + +“In God’s name what is happening?” cried Uarda. “Swear that you will +provide for my burial,” said the old woman. + +“I swear it!” cried the girl. “But for God’s sake--” + +“Katuti, Paaker, and Nemu are gone to set fire to the palace when +Rameses is sleeping, in three places. Do you hear, Kaschta! Now hasten, +fly after the incendiaries, rouse the servants, and try to rescue the +king.” + +“Oh fly, father,” cried the girl, and they both rushed away in the +darkness. + +“She is honest and will keep her word,” muttered Hekt, and she tried to +drag herself back to her own tent; but her strength failed her half-way. +Little Scherau tried to support her, but he was too weak; she sank down +on the sand, and looked out into the distance. There she saw the dark +mass of the palace, from which rose a light that grew broader and +broader, then clouds of black smoke, then up flew the soaring flame, and +a swarm of glowing sparks. + +“Run into the camp, child,” she cried, “cry fire, and wake the +sleepers.” + +Scherau ran off shouting as loud as he could. + +The old woman pressed her hand to her side, she muttered: “There it is +again.” + +“In the other world--Assa--Assa,” and her trembling lips were silent for +ever. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + +Katuti had kept her unfortunate nephew Paaker concealed in one of her +servants’ tents. He had escaped wounded from the battle at Kadesh, and +in terrible pain he had succeeded, by the help of an ass which he had +purchased from a peasant, in reaching by paths known to hardly any one +but himself, the cave where he had previously left his brother. Here he +found his faithful Ethiopian slave, who nursed him till he was strong +enough to set out on his journey to Egypt. He reached Pelusium, after +many privations, disguised as an Ismaelite camel-driver; he left his +servant, who might have betrayed him, behind in the cave. + +Before he was permitted to pass the fortifications, which lay across the +isthmus which parts the Mediterranean from the Red Sea, and which were +intended to protect Egypt from the incursions of the nomad tribes of +the Chasu, he was subjected to a strict interrogatory, and among other +questions was asked whether he had nowhere met with the traitor Paaker, +who was minutely described to him. No one recognized in the shrunken, +grey-haired, one-eyed camel-driver, the broad-shouldered, muscular +and thick-legged pioneer. To disguise himself the more effectually, +he procured some hair-dye--a cosmetic known in all ages--and blackened +himself. + + [In my papyrus there are several recipes for the preparation of + hair-dye; one is ascribed to the Lady Schesch, the mother of Teta, + wife of the first king of Egypt. The earliest of all the recipes + preserved to us is a prescription for dyeing the hair.] + +Katuti had arrived at Pelusium with Ani some time before, to superintend +the construction of the royal pavilion. He ventured to approach her +disguised as a negro beggar, with a palm-branch in his hand. She gave +him some money and questioned him concerning his native country, for she +made it her business to secure the favor even of the meanest; but though +she appeared to take an interest in his answers, she did not recognize +him; now for the first time he felt secure, and the next day he went up +to her again, and told her who he was. + +The widow was not unmoved by the frightful alteration in her nephew, and +although she knew that even Ani had decreed that any intercourse with +the traitor was to be punished by death, she took him at once into +her service, for she had never had greater need than now to employ the +desperate enemy of the king and of her son-in-law. + +The mutilated, despised, and hunted man kept himself far from the other +servants, regarding the meaner folk with undiminished scorn. He thought +seldom, and only vaguely of Katuti’s daughter, for love had quite given +place to hatred, and only one thing now seemed to him worth living +for--the hope of working with others to cause his enemies’ downfall, +and of being the instrument of their death; so he offered himself to the +widow a willing and welcome tool, and the dull flash in his uninjured +eye when she set him the task of setting fire to the king’s apartments, +showed her that in the Mohar she had found an ally she might depend on +to the uttermost. + +Paaker had carefully examined the scene of his exploit before the king’s +arrival. Under the windows of the king’s rooms, at least forty feet from +the ground, was a narrow parapet resting on the ends of the beams which +supported the rafters on which lay the floor of the upper story in which +the king slept. These rafters had been smeared with pitch, and straw had +been laid between them, and the pioneer would have known how to find the +opening where he was to put in the brand even if he had been blind of +both eyes. + +When Katuti first sounded her whistle he slunk to his post; he was +challenged by no watchman, for the few guards who had been placed in +the immediate vicinity of the pavilion, had all gone to sleep under the +influence of the Regent’s wine. Paaker climbed up to about the height +of two men from the ground by the help of the ornamental carving on +the outside wall of the palace; there a rope ladder was attached, he +clambered up this, and soon stood on the parapet, above which were the +windows of the king’s rooms, and below which the fire was to be laid. + +Rameses’ room was brightly illuminated. Paaker could see into it without +being seen, and could bear every word that was spoken within. The king +was sitting in an arm-chair, and looked thoughtfully at the ground; +before him stood the Regent, and Mena stood by his couch, holding in his +hand the king’s sleeping-robe. + +Presently Rameses raised his head, and said, as he offered his hand with +frank affection to Ani: + +“Let me bring this glorious day to a worthy end, cousin. I have found +you my true and faithful friend, and I had been in danger of believing +those over-anxious counsellors who spoke evil of you. I am never prone +to distrust, but a number of things occurred together that clouded my +judgment, and I did you injustice. I am sorry, sincerely sorry; nor am I +ashamed to apologize to you for having for an instant doubted your good +intentions. You are my good friend--and I will prove to you that I am +yours. There is my hand-take it; and all Egypt shall know that Rameses +trusts no man more implicitly than his Regent Ani. I will ask you to +undertake to be my guard of honor to-night--we will share this room. +I sleep here; when I lie down on my couch take your place on the divan +yonder.” Ani had taken Rameses’ offered hand, but now he turned pale as +he looked down. Paaker could see straight into his face, and it was not +without difficulty that he suppressed a scornful laugh. + +Rameses did not observe the Regent’s dismay, for he had signed to Mena +to come closer to him. + +“Before I sleep,” said the king, “I will bring matters to an end with +you too. You have put your wife’s constancy to a severe test, and she +has trusted you with a childlike simplicity that is often wiser than +the arguments of sages, because she loved you honestly, and is herself +incapable of guile. I promised you that I would grant you a wish if your +faith in her was justified. Now tell me what is your will?” + +Mena fell on his knees, and covered the king’s robe with kisses. + +“Pardon!” he exclaimed. “Nothing but pardon. My crime was a heavy one, +I know; but I was driven to it by scorn and fury--it was as if I saw the +dishonoring hand of Paaker stretched out to seize my innocent wife, who, +as I now know, loathes him as a toad--” + +“What was that?” exclaimed the king. “I thought I heard a groan +outside.” + +He went up to the window and looked out, but he did not see the pioneer, +who watched every motion of the king, and who, as soon as he perceived +that his involuntary sigh of anguish had been heard, stretched himself +close under the balustrade. Mena had not risen from his knees when the +king once more turned to him. + +“Pardon me,” he said again. “Let me be near thee again as before, +and drive thy chariot. I live only through thee, I am of no worth but +through thee, and by thy favor, my king, my lord, my father!” + +Rameses signed to his favorite to rise. “Your request was granted,” said +he, “before you made it. I am still in your debt on your fair wife’s +account. Thank Nefert--not me, and let us give thanks to the Immortals +this day with especial fervor. What has it not brought forth for us! It +has restored to me you two friends, whom I regarded as lost to me, and +has given me in Pentaur another son.” + +A low whistle sounded through the night air; it was Katuti’s last +signal. + +Paaker blew up the tinder, laid it in the bole under the parapet, and +then, unmindful of his own danger, raised himself to listen for any +further words. + +“I entreat thee,” said the Regent, approaching Rameses, “to excuse me. +I fully appreciate thy favors, but the labors of the last few days have +been too much for me; I can hardly stand on my feet, and the guard of +honor--” + +“Mena will watch,” said the king. “Sleep in all security, cousin. I will +have it known to all men that I have put away from me all distrust of +you. Give the my night-robe, Mena. Nay-one thing more I must tell you. +Youth smiles on the young, Ani. Bent-Anat has chosen a worthy husband, +my preserver, the poet Pentaur. He was said to be a man of humble +origin, the son of a gardener of the House of Seti; and now what do I +learn through Ameni? He is the true son of the dead Mohar, and the foul +traitor Paaker is the gardener’s son. A witch in the Necropolis changed +the children. That is the best news of all that has reached me on this +propitious day, for the Mohar’s widow, the noble Setchem, has been +brought here, and I should have been obliged to choose between two +sentences on her as the mother of the villain who has escaped us. Either +I must have sent her to the quarries, or have had her beheaded before +all the people--In the name of the Gods, what is that?” + +They heard a loud cry in a man’s voice, and at the same instant a noise +as if some heavy mass had fallen to the ground from a great height. +Rameses and Mena hastened to the window, but started back, for they were +met by a cloud of smoke. + +“Call the watch!” cried the king. + +“Go, you,” exclaimed Mena to Ani. “I will not leave the king again in +danger.” + +Ani fled away like an escaped prisoner, but he could not get far, for, +before he could descend the stairs to the lower story, they fell in +before his very eyes; Katuti, after she had set fire to the interior of +the palace, had made them fall by one blow of a hammer. Ani saw her robe +as she herself fled, clenched his fist with rage as he shouted her name, +and then, not knowing what he did, rushed headlong through the corridor +into which the different royal apartments opened. + +The fearful crash of the falling stairs brought the King and Mena also +out of the sleeping-room. + +“There lie the stairs! that is serious!” said the king cooly; then he +went back into his room, and looked out of a window to estimate the +danger. Bright flames were already bursting from the northern end of the +palace, and gave the grey dawn the brightness of day; the southern wing +or the pavilion was not yet on fire. Mena observed the parapet from +which Paaker had fallen to the ground, tested its strength, and found +it firm enough to bear several persons. He looked round, particularly at +the wing not yet gained by the flames, and exclaimed in a loud voice: + +“The fire is intentional! it is done on purpose. See there! a man is +squatting down and pushing a brand into the woodwork.” + +He leaped back into the room, which was now filling with smoke, snatched +the king’s bow and quiver, which he himself had hung up at the bed-head, +took careful aim, and with one cry the incendiary fell dead. + +A few hours later the dwarf Nemu was found with the charioteer’s arrow +through his heart. After setting fire to Bent-Anat’s rooms, he had +determined to lay a brand to the wing of the palace where, with the +other princes, Uarda’s friend Rameri was sleeping. + +Mena had again leaped out of window, and was estimating the height of +the leap to the ground; the Pharaoh’s room was getting more and more +filled with smoke, and flames began to break through the seams of the +boards. Outside the palace as well as within every one was waking up to +terror and excitement. + +“Fire! fire! an incendiary! Help! Save the king!” cried Kaschta, who +rushed on, followed by a crowd of guards whom he had roused; Uarda had +flown to call Bent-Anat, as she knew the way to her room. The king had +got on to the parapet outside the window with Mena, and was calling to +the soldiers. + +“Half of you get into the house, and first save the princess; the other +half keep the fire from catching the south wing. I will try to get +there.” + +But Nemu’s brand had been effectual, the flames flared up, and the +soldiers strained every nerve to conquer them. Their cries mingled with +the crackling and snapping of the dry wood, and the roar of the flames, +with the trumpet calls of the awakening troops, and the beating of +drums. The young princes appeared at a window; they had tied their +clothes together to form a rope, and one by one escaped down it. + +Rameses called to them with words of encouragement, but he himself was +unable to take any means of escape, for though the parapet on which he +stood was tolerably wide, and ran round the whole of the building, at +about every six feet it was broken by spaces of about ten paces. The +fire was spreading and growing, and glowing sparks flew round him and +his companion like chaff from the winnowing fan. + +“Bring some straw and make a heap below!” shouted Rameses, above the +roar of the conflagration. “There is no escape but by a leap down.” + +The flames rushed out of the windows of the king’s room; it was +impossible to return to it, but neither the king nor Mena lost his +self-possession. When Mena saw the twelve princes descending to the +ground, he shouted through his hands, using them as a speaking trumpet, +and called to Rameri, who was about to slip down the rope they had +contrived, the last of them all. + +“Pull up the rope, and keep it from injury till I come.” + +Rameri obeyed the order, and before Rameses could interfere, Mena had +sprung across the space which divided one piece of the balustrade from +another. The king’s blood ran cold as Mena, a second time, ventured the +frightful leap; one false step, and he must meet with the same fearful +death as his enemy Paaker. + +While the bystanders watched him in breathless silence--while the +crackling of the wood, the roar of the flames, and the dull thump of +falling timber mingled with the distant chant of a procession of priests +who were now approaching the burning pile, Nefert roused by little +Scherau knelt on the bare ground in fervent and passionate prayer to the +saving Gods. She watched every movement of her husband, and she bit her +lips till they bled not to cry out. She felt that he was acting bravely +and nobly, and that he was lost if even for an instant his attention +were distracted from his perilous footing. Now he had reached Rameri, +and bound one end of the rope made out of cloaks and handkerchiefs, +round his body; then he gave the other end to Rameri, who held fast to +the window-sill, and prepared once more to spring. Nefert saw him ready +to leap, she pressed her hands upon her lips to repress a scream, she +shut her eyes, and when she opened them again he had accomplished the +first leap, and at the second the Gods preserved him from falling; at +the third the king held out his hand to him, and saved him from a fall. +Then Rameses helped him to unfasten the rope from round his waist to +fasten it to the end of a beam. + +Rameri now loosened the other end, and followed Mena’s example; he too, +practised in athletic exercises in the school of the House of Seti, +succeeded in accomplishing the three tremendous leaps, and soon the king +stood in safety on the ground. Rameri followed him, and then Mena, whose +faithful wife went to meet him, and wiped the sweat from his throbbing +temples. + +Rameses hurried to the north wing, where Bent-Anat had her apartments; +he found her safe indeed, but wringing her hands, for her young favorite +Uarda had disappeared in the flames after she had roused her and saved +her with her father’s assistance. Kaschta ran up and down in front of +the burning pavilion, tearing his hair; now calling his child in tones +of anguish, now holding his breath to listen for an answer. To rush at +random into the immense-burning building would have been madness. The +king observed the unhappy man, and set him to lead the soldiers, whom he +had commanded to hew down the wall of Bent-Anat’s rooms, so as to rescue +the girl who might be within. Kaschta seized an axe, and raised it to +strike. + +But he thought that he heard blows from within against one of the +shutters of the ground-floor, which by Katuti’s orders had been securely +closed; he followed the sound--he was not mistaken, the knocking could +be distinctly heard. + +With all his might he struck the edge of the axe between the shutter and +the wall, and a stream of smoke poured out of the new outlet, and before +him, enveloped in its black clouds, stood a staggering man who held +Uarda in his arms. Kaschta sprang forward into the midst of the smoke +and sparks, and snatched his daughter from the arms of her preserver, +who fell half smothered on his knees. He rushed out into the air with +his light and precious burden, and as he pressed his lips to her closed +eyelids his eyes were wet, and there rose up before him the image of +the woman who bore her, the wife that had stood as the solitary +green palm-tree in the desert waste of his life. But only for a few +seconds-Bent-Anat herself took Uarda into her care, and he hastened back +to the burning house. + +He had recognized his daughter’s preserver; it was the physician +Nebsecht, who had not quitted the princess since their meeting on Sinai, +and had found a place among her suite as her personal physician. + +The fresh air had rushed into the room through the opening of the +shutter, the broad flames streamed out of the window, but still Nebsecht +was alive, for his groans could be heard through the smoke. Once more +Kaschta rushed towards the window, the bystanders could see that the +ceiling of the room was about to fail, and called out to warn him, but +he was already astride the sill. + +“I signed myself his slave with my blood,” he cried, “Twice he has +saved my child, and now I will pay my debt,” and he disappeared into the +burning room. + +He soon reappeared with Nebsecht in his arms, whose robe was already +scorched by the flames. He could be seen approaching the window with his +heavy burden; a hundred soldiers, and with them Pentaur, pressed +forward to help him, and took the senseless leech out of the arms of the +soldier, who lifted him over the window sill. + +Kaschta was on the point of following him, but before he could swing +himself over, the beams above gave way and fell, burying the brave son +of the paraschites. + +Pentaur had his insensible friend carried to his tent, and helped the +physicians to bind up his burns. When the cry of fire had been +first raised, Pentaur was sitting in earnest conversation with the +high-priest; he had learned that he was not the son of a gardener, but +a descendant of one of the noblest families in the land. The foundations +of life seemed to be subverted under his feet, Ameni’s revelation lifted +him out of the dust and set him on the marble floor of a palace; and yet +Pentaur was neither excessively surprised nor inordinately rejoiced; +he was so well used to find his joys and sufferings depend on the man +within him, and not on the circumstances without. + +As soon as he heard the cry of fire, he hastened to the burning +pavilion, and when he saw the king’s danger, he set himself at the head +of a number of soldiers who had hurried up from the camp, intending to +venture an attempt to save Rameses from the inside of the house. Among +those who followed him in this hopeless effort was Katuti’s reckless +son, who had distinguished himself by his valor before Kadesh, and who +hailed this opportunity of again proving his courage. Falling walls +choked up the way in front of these brave adventurers; but it was not +till several had fallen choked or struck down by burning logs, that +they made up their minds to retire--one of the first that was killed was +Katuti’s son, Nefert’s brother. + +Uarda had been carried into the nearest tent. Her pretty head lay in +Bent-Anat’s lap, and Nefert tried to restore her to animation by rubbing +her temples with strong essences. Presently the girl’s lips moved: with +returning consciousness all she had seen and suffered during the last +hour or two recurred to her mind; she felt herself rushing through the +camp with her father, hurrying through the corridor to the princess’s +rooms, while he broke in the doors closed by Katuti’s orders; she saw +Bent-Anat as she roused her, and conducted her to safety; she remembered +her horror when, just as she reached the door, she discovered that she +had left in her chest her jewel, the only relic of her lost mother, and +her rapid return which was observed by no one but by the leech Nebsecht. + +Again she seemed to live through the anguish she had felt till she once +more had the trinket safe in her bosom, the horror that fell upon her +when she found her escape impeded by smoke and flames, and the weakness +which overcame her; and she felt as if the strange white-robed priest +once more raised her in his arms. She remembered the tenderness of his +eyes as he looked into hers, and she smiled half gratefully but half +displeased at the tender kiss which had been pressed on her lips before +she found herself in her father’s strong arms. + +“How sweet she is!” said Bent-Anat. “I believe poor Nebsecht is right +in saying that her mother was the daughter of some great man among the +foreign people. Look what pretty little hands and feet, and her skin is +as clear as Phoenician glass.” + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +While the friends were occupied in restoring Uarda to animation, and in +taking affectionate care of her, Katuti was walking restlessly backwards +and forwards in her tent. + +Soon after she had slipped out for the purpose of setting fire to +the palace, Scherau’s cry had waked up Nefert, and Katuti found her +daughter’s bed empty when, with blackened hands and limbs trembling with +agitation, she came back from her criminal task. + +Now she waited in vain for Nemu and Paaker. + +Her steward, whom she sent on repeated messages of enquiry whether the +Regent had returned, constantly brought back a negative answer, and +added the information that he had found the body of old Hekt lying on +the open ground. The widow’s heart sank with fear; she was full of dark +forebodings while she listened to the shouts of the people engaged +in putting out the fire, the roll of drums, and the trumpets of the +soldiers calling each other to the help of the king. + +To these sounds now was added the dull crash of falling timbers and +walls. + +A faint smile played upon her thin lips, and she thought to herself: +“There--that perhaps fell on the king, and my precious son-in-law, who +does not deserve such a fate--if we had not fallen into disgrace, and +if since the occurrences before Kadesh he did not cling to his indulgent +lord as a calf follows a cow.” + +She gathered fresh courage, and fancied she could hear the voice of +Ethiopian troops hailing the Regent as king--could see Ani decorated +with the crown of Upper and Lower Egypt, seated on Rameses’ throne, and +herself by his side in rich though unpretending splendor. She pictured +herself with her son and daughter as enjoying Mena’s estate, freed from +debt and increased by Ani’s generosity, and then a new, intoxicating +hope came into her mind. Perhaps already at this moment her daughter +was a widow, and why should she not be so fortunate as to induce Ani to +select her child, the prettiest woman in Thebes, for his wife? Then +she, the mother of the queen, would be indeed unimpeachable, and +all-powerful. She had long since come to regard the pioneer as a tool +to be cast aside, nay soon to be utterly destroyed; his wealth +might probably at some future time be bestowed upon her son, who had +distinguished himself at Kadesh, and whom Ani must before long promote +to be his charioteer or the commander of the chariot warriors. + +Flattered by these fancies, she forgot every care as she walked faster +and faster to and fro in her tent. Suddenly the steward, whom she had +this time sent to the very scene of the fire, rushed into the tent, and +with every token of terror broke to her the news that the king and his +charioteer were hanging in mid air on a narrow wooden parapet, and that +unless some miracle happened they must inevitably be killed. It was +said that incendiaries had occasioned the fire, and he, the steward, had +hastened forward to prepare her for evil news as the mangled body of the +pioneer, which had been identified by the ring on his finger, and +the poor little corpse of Nemu, pierced through by an arrow, had been +carried past him. + +Katuti was silent for a moment. + +“And the king’s sons?” she asked with an anxious sigh. + +“The Gods be praised,” replied the steward, “they succeeded in letting +themselves down to the ground by a rope made of their garments knotted +together, and some were already safe when I came away.” + +Katuti’s face clouded darkly; once more she sent forth her messenger. +The minutes of his absence seemed like days; her bosom heaved in stormy +agitation, then for a moment she controlled herself, and again her +heart seemed to cease beating--she closed her eyes as if her anguish of +anxiety was too much for her strength. At last, long after sunrise, the +steward reappeared. + +Pale, trembling, hardly able to control his voice, he threw himself on +the ground at her feet crying out: + +“Alas! this night! prepare for the worst, mistress! May Isis comfort +thee, who saw thy son fall in the service of his king and father! May +Amon, the great God of Thebes, give thee strength! Our pride, our hope, +thy son is slain, killed by a falling beam.” + +Pale and still as if frozen, Katuti shed not a tear; for a minute she +did not speak, then she asked in a dull tone: + +“And Rameses?” + +“The Gods be praised!” answered the servant, “he is safe-rescued by +Mena!” + +“And Ani?” + +“Burnt!--they found his body disfigured out of all recognition; they +knew him again by the jewels he wore at the banquet.” + +Katuti gazed into vacancy, and the steward started back as from a mad +woman when, instead of bursting into tears, she clenched her small +jewelled hands, shook her fists in the air, and broke into loud, wild +laughter; then, startled at the sound of her own voice, she suddenly +became silent and fixed her eyes vacantly on the ground. She neither saw +nor heard that the captain of the watch, who was called “the eyes and +ears of the king,” had come in through the door of her tent followed by +several officers and a scribe; he came up to her, and called her by +her name. Not till the steward timidly touched her did she collect her +senses like one suddenly roused from deep sleep. + +“What are you doing in my tent?” she asked the officer, drawing herself +up haughtily. + +“In the name of the chief judge of Thebes,” said the captain of the +watch solemnly. “I arrest you, and hail you before the high court of +justice, to defend yourself against the grave and capital charges of +high treason, attempted regicide, and incendiarism.” + +“I am ready,” said the widow, and a scornful smile curled her lips. Then +with her usual dignity she pointed to a seat and said: + +“Be seated while I dress.” + +The officer bowed, but remained standing at the door of the tent while +she arranged her black hair, set her diadem on her brow, opened her +little ointment chest, and took from it a small phial of the rapid +poison strychnine, which some months before she had procured through +Nemu from the old witch Hekt. + +“My mirror!” she called to a maid servant, who squatted in a corner of +the tent. She held the metal mirror so as to conceal her face from the +captain of the watch, put the little flask to her lips and emptied it +at one mouthful. The mirror fell from her hand, she staggered, a deadly +convulsion seized her--the officer rushed forward, and while she fixed +her dying look upon him she said: + +“My game is lost, but Ameni--tell Ameni that he will not win either.” + +She fell forward, murmured Nefert’s name, struggled convulsively and was +dead. + +When the draught of happiness which the Gods prepare for some few men, +seems to flow clearest and purest, Fate rarely fails to infuse into it +some drop of bitterness. And yet we should not therefore disdain it, for +it is that very drop of bitterness which warns us to drink of the joys +of life thankfully, and in moderation. + +The perfect happiness of Mena and Nefert was troubled by the fearful +death of Katuti, but both felt as if they now for the first time knew +the full strength of their love for each other. Mena had to make up to +his wife for the loss of mother and brother, and Nefert to restore to +her husband much that he had been robbed of by her relatives, and they +felt that they had met again not merely for pleasure but to be to each +other a support and a consolation. + +Rameses quitted the scene of the fire full of gratitude to the Gods who +had shown such grace to him and his. He ordered numberless steers to be +sacrificed, and thanksgiving festivals to be held throughout the land; +but he was cut to the heart by the betrayal to which he had fallen a +victim. He longed--as he always did in moments when the balance of his +mind had been disturbed--for an hour of solitude, and retired to the +tent which had been hastily erected for him. He could not bear to enter +the splendid pavilion which had been Ani’s; it seemed to him infested +with the leprosy of falsehood and treason. + +For an hour he remained alone, and weighed the worst he had suffered at +the hands of men against that which was good and cheering, and he found +that the good far outweighed the evil. He vividly realized the magnitude +of his debt of gratitude, not to the Immortals only, but also to +his earthly friends, as he recalled every moment of this morning’s +experience. + +“Gratitude,” he said to himself, “was impressed on you by your mother; +you yourself have taught your children to be grateful. Piety is +gratitude to the Gods, and he only is really generous who does not +forget the gratitude he owes to men.” + +He had thrown off all bitterness of feeling when he sent for Bent-Anat +and Pentaur to be brought to his tent. He made his daughter relate at +full length how the poet had won her love, and though he frequently +interrupted her with blame as well as praise, his heart was full of +fatherly joy when he laid his darling’s hand in that of the poet. + +Bent-Anat laid her head in full content on the breast of the noble +Assa’s grandson, but she would have clung not less fondly to Pentaur the +gardener’s son. + +“Now you are one of my own children,” said Rameses; and he desired the +poet to remain with him while he commanded the heralds, ambassadors, and +interpreters to bring to him the Asiatic princes, who were detained in +their own tents on the farther side of the Nile, that he might conclude +with them such a treaty of peace as might continue valid for generations +to come. Before they arrived, the young princes came to their father’s +tent, and learned from his own lips the noble birth of Pentaur, and that +they owed it to their sister that in him they saw another brother; they +welcomed him with sincere affection, and all, especially Rameri, warmly +congratulated the handsome and worthy couple. + +The king then called Rameri forward from among his brothers, and thanked +him before them all for his brave conduct during the fire. He had +already been invested with the robe of manhood after the battle +of Kadesh; he was now appointed to the command of a legion of +chariot-warriors, and the order of the lion to wear round his neck +was bestowed on him for his bravery. The prince knelt, and thanked his +father; but Rameses took the curly head in his hands and said: + +“You have won praise and reward by your splendid deeds from the father +whom you have saved and filled with pride. But the king watches over the +laws, and guides the destiny cf this land, the king must blame you, nay +perhaps punish you. You could not yield to the discipline of school, +where we all must learn to obey if we would afterwards exercise our +authority with moderation, and without any orders you left Egypt and +joined the army. You showed the courage and strength of a man, but the +folly of a boy in all that regards prudence and foresight--things harder +to learn for the son of a race of heroes than mere hitting and slashing +at random; you, without experience, measured yourself against masters of +the art of war, and what was the consequence? Twice you fell a prisoner +into the hands of the enemy, and I had to ransom you. + +“The king of the Danaids gave you up in exchange for his daughter, +and he rejoices long since in the restoration of his child; but we, +in losing her, lost the most powerful means of coercing the seafaring +nations of the islands and northern coasts of the great sea who are +constantly increasing in might and daring, and so diminished our chances +of securing a solid and abiding peace. + +“Thus--through the careless wilfulness of a boy, the great work +is endangered which I had hoped to have achieved. It grieves me +particularly to humiliate your spirit to-day, when I have had so much +reason to encourage you with praise. Nor will I punish you, only warn +you and teach you. The mechanism of the state is like the working of the +cogged wheels which move the water-works on the shore of the Nile-if +one tooth is missing the whole comes to a stand-still however strong +the beasts that labor to turn it. Each of you--bear this in mind--is a +main-wheel in the great machine of the state, and can serve an end only +by acting unresistingly in obedience to the motive power. Now rise! we +may perhaps succeed in obtaining good security from the Asiatic king, +though we have lost our hostage.” + +Heralds at this moment marched into the tent, and announced that +the representative of the Cheta king and the allied princes were in +attendance in the council tent; Rameses put on the crown of Upper and +Lower Egypt and all his royal adornments; the chamberlain who carried +the insignia of his power, and his head scribe with his decoration of +plumes marched before him, while his sons, the commanders in chief, and +the interpreters followed him. Rameses took his seat on his throne with +great dignity, and the sternest gravity marked his demeanor while he +received the homage of the conquered and fettered kings. + +The Asiatics kissed the earth at his feet, only the king of the Danaids +did no more than bow before him. Rameses looked wrathfully at him, +and ordered the interpreter to ask him whether he considered himself +conquered or no, and the answer was given that he had not come before +the Pharaoh as a prisoner, and that the obeisance which Rameses required +of him was regarded as a degradation according to the customs of his +free-born people, who prostrated them selves only before the Gods. He +hoped to become an ally of the king of Egypt, and he asked would he +desire to call a degraded man his friend? + +Rameses measured the proud and noble figure before him with a glance, +and said severely: + +“I am prepared to treat for peace only with such of my enemies as are +willing to bow to the double crown that I wear. If you persist in +your refusal, you and your people will have no part in the favorable +conditions that I am prepared to grant to these, your allies.” + +The captive prince preserved his dignified demeanor, which was +nevertheless free from insolence, when these words of the king were +interpreted to him, and replied that he had come intending to procure +peace at any cost, but that he never could nor would grovel in the dust +at any man’s feet nor before any crown. He would depart on the following +day; one favor, however, he requested in his daughter’s name and his +own--and he had heard that the Egyptians respected women. The king knew, +of course, that his charioteer Mena had treated his daughter, not as a +prisoner but as a sister, and Praxilla now felt a wish, which he himself +shared, to bid farewell to the noble Mena, and his wife, and to thank +him for his magnanimous generosity. Would Rameses permit him once more +to cross the Nile before his departure, and with his daughter to visit +Mena in his tent. + +Rameses granted his prayer: the prince left the tent, and the +negotiations began. + +In a few hours they were brought to a close, for the Asiatic and +Egyptian scribes had agreed, in the course of the long march southwards, +on the stipulations to be signed; the treaty itself was to be drawn up +after the articles had been carefully considered, and to be signed in +the city of Rameses called Tanis--or, by the numerous settlers in its +neighborhood, Zoan. The Asiatic princes were to dine as guests with the +king; but they sat at a separate table, as the Egyptians would have been +defiled by sitting at the same table with strangers. + +Rameses was not perfectly satisfied. If the Danaids went away without +concluding a treaty with him, it was to be expected that the peace which +he was so earnestly striving for would before long be again disturbed; +and he nevertheless felt that, out of regard for the other conquered +princes, he could not forego any jot of the humiliation which he +had required of their king, and which he believed to be due to +himself--though he had been greatly impressed by his dignified manliness +and by the bravery of the troops that had followed him into the field. + +The sun was sinking when Mena, who that day had leave of absence from +the king, came in great excitement up to the table where the princes +were sitting and craved the king’s permission to make an important +communication. Rameses signed consent; the charioteer went close up to +him, and they held a short but eager conversation in a low voice. + +Presently the king stood up and said, speaking to his daughter: + +“This day which began so horribly will end joyfully. The fair child who +saved you to-day, but who so nearly fell a victim to the flames, is of +noble origin.” + +“She cones of a royal house,” said Rameri, disrespectfully interrupting +his father. Rameses looked at him reprovingly. “My sons are silent,” he +said, “till I ask them to speak.” + +The prince colored and looked down; the king signed to Bent-Anat and +Pentaur, begged his guests to excuse him for a short time, and was about +to leave the tent; but Bent-Anat went up to him, and whispered a few +words to him with reference to her brother. Not in vain: the king +paused, and reflected for a few moments; then he looked at Rameri, who +stood abashed, and as if rooted to the spot where he stood. The king +called his name, and beckoned him to follow him. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +Rameri had rushed off to summon the physicians, while Bent-Anat was +endeavoring to restore the rescued Uarda to consciousness, and he +followed them into his sister’s tent. He gazed with tender anxiety +into the face of the half suffocated girl, who, though uninjured, still +remained unconscious, and took her hand to press his lips to her slender +fingers, but Bent-Anat pushed him gently away; then in low tones that +trembled with emotion he implored her not to send him away, and told her +how dear the girl whose life he had saved in the fight in the Necropolis +had become to him--how, since his departure for Syria, he had never +ceased to think of her night and day, and that he desired to make her +his wife. + +Bent-Anat was startled; she reminded her brother of the stain that +lay on the child of the paraschites and through which she herself had +suffered so much; but Rameri answered eagerly: + +“In Egypt rank and birth are derived through the mother and Kaschta’s +dead wife--” + +“I know,” interrupted Bent-Anat. “Nebsecht has already told us that she +was a dumb woman, a prisoner of war, and I myself believe that she was +of no mean house, for Uarda is nobly formed in face and figure.” + +“And her skin is as fine as the petal of a flower,” cried Rameri. “Her +voice is like the ring of pure gold, and--Oh! look, she is moving. +Uarda, open your eyes, Uarda! When the sun rises we praise the Gods. +Open your eyes! how thankful, how joyful I shall be if those two suns +only rise again.” + +Bent-Anat smiled, and drew her brother away from the heavily-breathing +girl, for a leech came into the tent to say that a warm medicated bath +had been prepared and was ready for Uarda. The princess ordered her +waiting-women to help lift the senseless girl, and was preparing to +follow her when a message from her father required her presence in his +tent. She could guess at the significance of this command, and desired +Rameri to leave her that she might dress in festal garments; she could +entrust Uarda to the care of Nefert during her absence. + +“She is kind and gentle, and she knows Uarda so well,” said the +princess, “and the necessity of caring for this dear little creature +will do her good. Her heart is torn between sorrow for her lost +relations, and joy at being united again to her love. My father has +given Mena leave of absence from his office for several days, and I have +excused her from her attendance on me, for the time during which we +were so necessary to each other really came to an end yesterday. I feel, +Rameri, as if we, after our escape, were like the sacred phoenix which +comes to Heliopolis and burns itself to death only to soar again from +its ashes young and radiant--blessed and blessing!” + +When her brother had left her, she threw herself before the image of her +mother and prayed long and earnestly; she poured an offering of +sweet perfume on the little altar of the Goddess Hathor, which always +accompanied her, had herself dressed in happy preparation for meeting +her father, and--she did not conceal it from herself--Pentaur, then +she went for a moment to Nefert’s tent to beg her to take good care +of Uarda, and finally obeyed the summons of the king, who, as we know, +fulfilled her utmost hopes. + +As Rameri quitted his sister’s tent he saw the watch seize and lead +away a little boy; the child cried bitterly, and the prince in a moment +recognized the little sculptor Scherau, who had betrayed the Regent’s +plot to him and to Uarda, and whom he had already fancied he had seen +about the place. The guards had driven him away several times from the +princess’s tent, but he had persisted in returning, and this obstinate +waiting in the neighborhood had aroused the suspicions of an officer; +for since the fire a thousand rumors of conspiracies and plots against +the king had been flying about the camp. Rameri at once freed the little +prisoner, and heard from him that it was old Hekt who, before her death, +had sent Kaschta and his daughter to the rescue of the king, that he +himself had helped to rouse the troops, that now he had no home and +wished to go to Uarda. + +The prince himself led the child to Nefert, and begged her to allow +him to see Uarda, and to let him stay with her servants till he himself +returned from his father’s tent. + +The leeches had treated Uarda with judgment, for under the influence of +the bath she recovered her senses; when she had been dressed again in +fresh garments and refreshed by the essences and medicines which they +gave her to inhale and to drink, she was led back into Nefert’s tent, +where Mena, who had never before seen her, was astonished at her +peculiar and touching beauty. + +“She is very like my Danaid princess,” he said to his wife; “only she is +younger and much prettier than she.” + +Little Scherau came in to pay his respects to her, and she was delighted +to see the boy; still she was sad, and however kindly Nefert spoke to +her she remained in silent reverie, while from time to time a large tear +rolled down her cheek. + +“You have lost your father!” said Nefert, trying to comfort her. “And I, +my mother and brother both in one day.” + +“Kaschta was rough but, oh! so kind,” replied Uarda. “He was always so +fond of me; he was like the fruit of the doom palm; its husk is hard and +rough, but he who knows how to open it finds the sweet pulp within. Now +he is dead, and my grandfather and grandmother are gone before him, and +I am like the green leaf that I saw floating on the waters when we were +crossing the sea; anything so forlorn I never saw, abandoned by all it +belonged to or had ever loved, the sport of a strange element in which +nothing resembling itself ever grew or ever can grow.” + +Nefert kissed her forehead. “You have friends,” she said, “who will +never abandon you.” + +“I know, I know!” said Uarda thoughtfully, “and yet I am alone--for the +first time really alone. In Thebes I have often looked after the wild +swans as they passed across the sky; one flies in front, then comes +the body of the wandering party, and very often, far behind, a solitary +straggler; and even this last one I do not call lonely, for he can still +see his brethren in front of him. But when the hunters have shot down +all the low-flying loiterers, and the last one has lost sight of the +flock, and knows that he never again can find them or follow them he is +indeed to be pitied. I am as unhappy as the abandoned bird, for I have +lost sight to-day of all that I belong to, and I am alone, and can never +find them again.” + +“You will be welcomed into some more noble house than that to which you +belong by birth,” said Nefert, to comfort her. + +Uarda’s eyes flashed, and she said proudly, almost defiantly: + +“My race is that of my mother, who was a daughter of no mean house; the +reason I turned back this morning and went into the smoke and fire +again after I had escaped once into the open air--what I went back for, +because I felt it was worth dying for, was my mother’s legacy, which I +had put away with my holiday dress when I followed the wretched Nemu to +his tent. I threw myself into the jaws of death to save the jewel, but +certainly not because it is made of gold and precious stones--for I do +not care to be rich, and I want no better fare than a bit of bread and a +few dates and a cup of water--but because it has a name on it in strange +characters, and because I believe it will serve to discover the people +from whom my mother was carried off; and now I have lost the jewel, and +with it my identity and my hopes and happiness.” + +Uarda wept aloud; Nefert put her arm around her affectionately. + +“Poor child!” she said, “was your treasure destroyed in the flames?” + +“No, no,” cried Uarda eagerly. “I snatched it out of my chest and held +it in my hand when Nebsecht took me in his arms, and I still had it in +my hand when I was lying safe on the ground outside the burning house, +and Bent-Anat was close to me, and Rameri came up. I remember seeing him +as if I were in a dream, and I revived a little, and I felt the jewel in +my fingers then.” + +“Then it was dropped on the way to the tent?” said Nefert. + +Uarda nodded; little Scherau, who had been crouching on the floor beside +her, gave Uarda a loving glance, dimmed with tears, and quietly slipped +out of the tent. + +Time went by in silence; Uarda sat looking at the ground, Nefert and +Mena held each other’s hands, but the thoughts of all three were with +the dead. A perfect stillness reigned, and the happiness of the reunited +couple was darkly overshadowed by their sorrow. From time to time the +silence was broken by a trumpet-blast from the royal tent; first when +the Asiatic princes were introduced into the Council-tent, then when the +Danaid king departed, and lastly when the Pharaoh preceded the conquered +princes to the banquet. + +The charioteer remembered how his master had restored him to dignity +and honor, for the sake of his faithful wife; and gratefully pressed her +hand. + +Suddenly there was a noise in front of the tent, and an officer entered +to announce to Mena that the Danaid king and his daughter, accompanied +by body-guard, requested to see and speak with him and Nefert. + +The entrance to the tent was thrown wide open. Uarda retired modestly +into the back-ground, and Mena and Nefert went forward hand in hand to +meet their unexpected guests. + +The Greek prince was an old man, his beard and thick hair were grey, but +his movements were youthful and light, though dignified and deliberate. +His even, well-formed features were deeply furrowed, he had large, +bright, clear blue eyes, but round his fine lips were lines of care. +Close to him walked his daughter; her long white robe striped with +purple was held round her hips by a golden girdle, and her sunny yellow +hair fell in waving locks over her neck and shoulders, while it was +confined by a diadem which encircled her head; she was of middle height, +and her motions were measured and calm like her father’s. Her brow was +narrow, and in one line with her straight nose, her rosy mouth was sweet +and kind, and beyond everything beautiful were the lines of her oval +face and the turn of her snow-white throat. By their side stood the +interpreter who translated every word of the conversation on both sides. +Behind them came two men and two women, who carried gifts for Mena and +his wife. + +The prince praised Mena’s magnanimity in the warmest terms. + +“You have proved to me,” he said, “that the virtues of gratitude, of +constancy, and of faith are practised by the Egyptians; although your +merit certainly appears less to me now that I see your wife, for he who +owns the fairest may easily forego any taste for the fair.” + +Nefert blushed. + +“Your generosity,” she answered, “does me more than justice at your +daughter’s expense, and love moved my husband to the same injustice, but +your beautiful daughter must forgive you and me also.” + +Praxilla went towards her and expressed her thanks; then she offered her +the costly coronet, the golden clasps and strings of rare pearls which +her women carried; her father begged Mena to accept a coat of mail and +a shield of fine silver work. The strangers were then led into the tent, +and were there welcomed and entertained with all honor, and offered +bread and wine. While Mena pledged her father, Praxilla related to +Nefert, with the help of the interpreter, what hours of terror she had +lived through after she had been taken prisoner by the Egyptians, and +was brought into the camp with the other spoils of war; how an older +commander had asserted his claim to her, how Mena had given her +his hand, had led her to his tent, and had treated her like his own +daughter. Her voice shook with emotion, and even the interpreter was +moved as she concluded her story with these words: “How grateful I am to +him, you will fully understand when I tell you that the man who was to +have been my husband fell wounded before my eyes while defending our +camp; but he has recovered, and now only awaits my return for our +wedding.” + +“May the Gods only grant it!” cried the king, “for Praxilla is the last +child of my house. The murderous war robbed me of my four fair sons +before they had taken wives, my son-in-law was slain by the Egyptians +at the taking of our camp, and his wife and new-born son fell into their +hands, and Praxilla is my youngest child, the only one left to me by the +envious Gods.” + +While he was still speaking, they heard the guards call out and a +child’s loud cry, and at the same instant little Scherau rushed into the +tent holding up his hand exclaiming. + +“I have it! I have found it!” + +Uarda, who had remained behind the curtain which screened the sleeping +room of the tent--but who had listened with breathless attention to +every word of the foreigners, and who had never taken her eyes off the +fair Praxilla--now came forward, emboldened by her agitation, into the +midst of the tent, and took the jewel from the child’s hand to show it +to the Greek king; for while she stood gazing at Praxilla it seemed +to her that she was looking at herself in a mirror, and the idea had +rapidly grown to conviction that her mother had been a daughter of the +Danaids. Her heart beat violently as she went up to the king with a +modest demeanor, her head bent down, but holding her jewel up for him to +see. + +The bystanders all gazed in astonishment at the veteran chief, for he +staggered as she came up to him, stretched out his hands as if in terror +towards the girl, and drew back crying out: + +“Xanthe, Xanthe! Is your spirit freed from Hades? Are you come to summon +me?” + +Praxilla looked at her father in alarm, but suddenly she, too, gave a +piercing cry, snatched a chain from her neck, hurried towards Uarda, and +seizing the jewel she held, exclaimed: + +“Here is the other half of the ornament, it belonged to my poor sister +Xanthe!” + +The old Greek was a pathetic sight, he struggled hard to collect +himself, looking with tender delight at Uarda, his sinewy hands +trembled as he compared the two pieces of the necklet; they matched +precisely--each represented the wing of an eagle which was attached to +half an oval covered with an inscription; when they were laid together +they formed the complete figure of a bird with out-spread wings, on +whose breast the lines exactly matched of the following oracular verse: + + “Alone each is a trifling thing, a woman’s useless toy + But with its counterpart behold! the favorite bird of Zeus.” + +A glance at the inscription convinced the king that he held in his hand +the very jewel which he had put with his own hands round the neck of +his daughter Xanthe on her marriage-day, and of which the other half had +been preserved by her mother, from whom it had descended to Praxilla. It +had originally been made for his wife and her twin sister who had died +young. Before he made any enquiries, or asked for any explanations, he +took Uarda’s head between his hands, and turning her face close to +his he gazed at her features, as if he were reading a book in which he +expected to find a memorial of all the blissful hours of his youth, and +the girl felt no fear; nor did she shrink when he pressed his lips to +her forehead, for she felt that this man’s blood ran in her own veins. +At last the king signed to the interpreter; Uarda was asked to tell all +she knew of her mother, and when she said that she had come a captive +to Thebes with an infant that had soon after died, that her father had +bought her and had loved her in spite of her being dumb, the prince’s +conviction became certainty; he acknowledged Uarda as his grandchild, +and Praxilla clasped her in her arms. + +Then he told Mena that it was now twenty years since his son-in-law had +been killed, and his daughter Xanthe, whom Uarda exactly resembled, had +been carried into captivity. Praxilla was then only just born, and his +wife died of the shock of such terrible news. All his enquiries for +Xanthe and her child had been fruitless, but he now remembered that +once, when he had offered a large ransom for his daughter if she could +be found, the Egyptians had enquired whether she were dumb, and that he +had answered “no.” No doubt Xanthe had lost the power of speech through +grief, terror, and suffering. + +The joy of the king was unspeakable, and Uarda was never tired of gazing +at his daughter and holding her hand. + +Then she turned to the interpreter. + +“Tell me,” she said. “How do I say ‘I am so very happy?’” + +He told her, and she smilingly repeated his words. “Now ‘Uarda will love +you with all her heart?’” and she said it after him in broken accents +that sounded so sweet and so heart-felt, that the old man clasped her to +his breast. + +Tears of emotion stood in Nefert’s eyes, and when Uarda flung herself +into her arms she said: + +“The forlorn swan has found its kindred, the floating leaf has reached +the shore, and must be happy now!” Thus passed an hour of the purest +happiness; at last the Greek king prepared to leave, and the wished to +take Uarda with him; but Mena begged his permission to communicate all +that had occurred to the Pharaoh and Bent-Anat, for Uarda was attached +to the princess’s train, and had been left in his charge, and he dared +not trust her in any other hands without Bent-Anat’s permission. +Without waiting for the king’s reply he left the tent, hastened to the +banqueting tent, and, as we know, Rameses and the princess had at once +attended to his summons. + +On the way Mena gave them a vivid description of the exciting events +that had taken place, and Rameses, with a side glance at Bent-Anat, +asked Rameri: + +“Would you be prepared to repair your errors, and to win the friendship +of the Greek king by being betrothed to his granddaughter?” + +The prince could not answer a word, but he clasped his father’s hand, +and kissed it so warmly that Rameses, as he drew it away, said: + +“I really believe that you have stolen a march on me, and have been +studying diplomacy behind my back!” + +Rameses met his noble opponent outside Mena’s tent, and was about to +offer him his hand, but the Danaid chief had sunk on his knees before +him as the other princes had done. + +“Regard me not as a king and a warrior,” he exclaimed, “only as a +suppliant father; let us conclude a peace, and permit me to take this +maiden, my grandchild, home with me to my own country.” + +Rameses raised the old man from the ground, gave him his hand, and said +kindly: + +“I can only grant the half of what you ask. I, as king of Egypt, am most +willing to grant you a faithful compact for a sound and lasting peace; +as regards this maiden, you must treat with my children, first with +my daughter Bent-Anat, one of whose ladies she is, and then with your +released prisoner there, who wishes to make Uarda his wife.” + +“I will resign my share in the matter to my brother,” said Bent-Anat, +“and I only ask you, maiden, whether you are inclined to acknowledge him +as your lord and master?” + +Uarda bowed assent, and looked at her grandfather with an expression +which he understood without any interpreter. + +“I know you well,” he said, turning to Rameri. “We stood face to face in +the fight, and I took you prisoner as you fell stunned by a blow from my +sword. You are still too rash, but that is a fault which time will amend +in a youth of your heroic temper. Listen to me now, and you too, noble +Pharaoh, permit me these few words; let us betroth these two, and may +their union be the bond of ours, but first grant me for a year to take +my long-lost child home with me that she may rejoice my old heart, and +that I may hear from her lips the accents of her mother, whom you took +from me. They are both young; according to the usages of our country, +where both men and women ripen later than in your country, they are +almost too young for the solemn tie of marriage. But one thing above all +will determine you to favor my wishes; this daughter of a royal house +has grown up amid the humblest surroundings; here she has no home, no +family-ties. The prince has wooed her, so to speak, on the highway, but +if she now comes with me he can enter the palace of kings as suitor to +a princess, and the marriage feast I will provide shall be a right royal +one.” + +“What you demand is just and wise,” replied Rameses. “Take your +grand-child with you as my son’s betrothed bride--my future daughter. +Give me your hands, my children. The delay will teach you patience, for +Rameri must remain a full year from to-day in Egypt, and it will be to +your profit, sweet child, for the obedience which he will learn through +his training in the army will temper the nature of your future husband. +You, Rameri, shall in a year from to-day--and I think you will not +forget the date--find at your service a ship in the harbor of Pelusium, +fitted and manned with Phoenicians, to convey you to your wedding.” + +“So be it!” exclaimed the old man. “And by Zeus who hears me swear--I +will not withhold Xanthe’s daughter from your son when he comes to claim +her!” + +When Rameri returned to the princes’ tent he threw himself on their +necks in turn, and when he found himself alone with their surly old +house-steward, he snatched his wig from his head, flung it in the air, +and then coaxingly stroked the worthy officer’s cheeks as he set it on +his head again. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +Uarda accompanied her grandfather and Praxilla to their tent on the +farther side of the Nile, but she was to return next morning to the +Egyptian camp to take leave of all her friends, and to provide for her +father’s internment. Nor did she delay attending to the last wishes of +old Hekt, and Bent-Anat easily persuaded her father, when he learnt how +greatly he had been indebted to her, to have her embalmed like a lady of +rank. + +Before Uarda left the Egyptian camp, Pentaur came to entreat her to +afford her dying preserver Nebsecht the last happiness of seeing her +once more; Uarda acceded with a blush, and the poet, who had watched all +night by his friend, went forward to prepare him for her visit. + +Nebsecht’s burns and a severe wound on his head caused him great +suffering; his cheeks glowed with fever, and the physicians told Pentaur +that he probably could not live more than a few hours. + +The poet laid his cool hand on his friend’s brow, and spoke to him +encouragingly; but Nebsecht smiled at his words with the peculiar +expression of a man who knows that his end is near, and said in a low +voice and with a visible effort: + +“A few breaths more and here, and here, will be peace.” He laid his hand +on his head and on his heart. + +“We all attain to peace,” said Pentaur. “But perhaps only to labor more +earnestly and unweariedly in the land beyond the grave. If the Gods +reward any thing it is the honest struggle, the earnest seeking after +truth; if any spirit can be made one with the great Soul of the world it +will be yours, and if any eye may see the Godhead through the veil which +here shrouds the mystery of His existence yours will have earned the +privilege.” + +“I have pushed and pulled,” sighed Nebsecht, “with all my might, and +now when I thought I had caught a glimpse of the truth the heavy fist of +death comes down upon me and shuts my eyes. What good will it do me to +see with the eye of the Divinity or to share in his omniscience? It is +not seeing, it is seeking that is delightful--so delightful that I would +willingly set my life there against another life here for the sake of +it.” He was silent, for his strength failed, and Pentaur begged him to +keep quiet, and to occupy his mind in recalling all the hours of joy +which life had given him. + +“They have been few,” said the leech. “When my mother kissed me and gave +me dates, when I could work and observe in peace, when you opened my +eyes to the beautiful world of poetry--that was good!” + +And you have soothed the sufferings of many men, added Pentaur, “and +never caused pain to any one.” + +Nebsecht shook his head. + +“I drove the old paraschites,” he muttered, “to madness and to death.” + +He was silent for a long time, then he looked up eagerly and said: “But +not intentionally--and not in vain! In Syria, at Megiddo I could work +undisturbed; now I know what the organ is that thinks. The heart! What +is the heart? A ram’s heart or a man’s heart, they serve the same end; +they turn the wheel of animal life, they both beat quicker in terror or +in joy, for we feel fear or pleasure just as animals do. But Thought, +the divine power that flies to the infinite, and enables us to form and +prove our opinions, has its seat here--Here in the brain, behind the +brow.” + +He paused exhausted and overcome with pain. Pentaur thought he was +wandering in his fever, and offered him a cooling drink while two +physicians walked round his bed singing litanies; then, as Nebsecht +raised himself in bed with renewed energy, the poet said to him: + +“The fairest memory of your life must surely be that of the sweet child +whose face, as you once confessed to me, first opened your soul to the +sense of beauty, and whom with your own hands you snatched from death +at the cost of your own life. You know Uarda has found her own relatives +and is happy, and she is very grateful to her preserver, and would like +to see him once more before she goes far away with her grandfather.” + +The sick man hesitated before he answered softly: + +“Let her come--but I will look at her from a distance.” + +Pentaur went out and soon returned with Uarda, who remained standing +with glowing cheeks and tears in her eyes at the door of the tent. The +leech looked at her a long time with an imploring and tender expression, +then he said: + +“Accept my thanks--and be happy.” + +The girl would have gone up to him to take his hand, but he waved her +off with his right hand enveloped in wrappings. + +“Come no nearer,” he said, “but stay a moment longer. You have tears in +your eyes; are they for me or only for my pain?” + +“For you, good noble man! my friend and my preserver!” said Uarda. “For +you dear, poor Nebsecht!” The leech closed his eyes as she spoke these +words with earnest feeling, but he looked up once more as she ceased +speaking, and gazed at her with tender admiration; then he said softly: + +“It is enough--now I can die.” + +Uarda left the tent, Pentaur remained with him listening to his hoarse +and difficult breathing; suddenly: + +Nebsecht raised himself, and said: “Farewell, my friend,--my journey is +beginning, who knows whither?” + +“Only not into vacancy, not to end in nothingness!” cried Pentaur +warmly. + +The leech shook his head. “I have been something,” he said, “and being +something I cannot become nothing. Nature is a good economist, and +utilizes the smallest trifle; she will use me too according to her need. +She brings everything to its end and purpose in obedience to some rule +and measure, and will so deal with me after I am dead; there is no +waste. Each thing results in being that which it is its function to +become; our wish or will is not asked--my head! when the pain is in my +head I cannot think--if only I could prove--could prove----” + +The last words were less and less audible, his breath was choked, and in +a few seconds Pentaur with deep regret closed his eyes. + +Pentaur, as he quitted the tent where the dead man lay, met the +high-priest Ameni, who had gone to seek him by his friend’s bed-side, +and they returned together to gaze on the dead. Ameni, with much +emotion, put up a few earnest prayers for the salvation of his soul, and +then requested Pentaur to follow him without delay to his tent. On the +way he prepared the poet, with the polite delicacy which was peculiar to +him, for a meeting which might be more painful than joyful to him, and +must in any case bring him many hours of anxiety and agitation. + +The judges in Thebes, who had been compelled to sentence the lady +Setchem, as the mother of a traitor, to banishment to the mines had, +without any demand on her part, granted leave to the noble and most +respectable matron to go under an escort of guards to meet the king on +his return into Egypt, in order to petition for mercy for herself, but +not, as it was expressly added--for Paaker; and she had set out, but +with the secret resolution to obtain the king’s grace not for herself +but for her son. + + [Agatharchides, in Diodorus III. 12, says that in many cases not + only the criminal but his relations also were condemned to labor in + the mines. In the convention signed between Rameses and the Cheta + king it is expressly provided that the deserter restored to Egypt + shall go unpunished, that no injury shall be done “to his house, his + wife or his children, nor shall his mother be put to death.”] + +Ameni had already left Thebes for the north when this sentence was +pronounced, or he would have reversed it by declaring the true origin +of Paaker; for after he had given up his participation in the Regent’s +conspiracy, he no longer had any motive for keeping old Hekt’s secret. + +Setchem’s journey was lengthened by a storm which wrecked the ship in +which she was descending the Nile, and she did not reach Pelusium till +after the king. The canal which formed the mouth of the Nile close +to this fortress and joined the river to the Mediterranean, was so +over-crowded with the boats of the Regent and his followers, of the +ambassadors, nobles, citizens, and troops which had met from all parts +of the country, that the lady’s boat could find anchorage only at a +great distance from the city, and accompanied by her faithful +steward she had succeeded only a few hours before in speaking to the +high-priest. + +Setchem was terribly changed; her eyes, which only a few months since +had kept an efficient watch over the wealthy Theban household, were now +dim and weary, and although her figure had not grown thin it had lost +its dignity and energy, and seemed inert and feeble. Her lips, so ready +for a wise or sprightly saying, were closely shut, and moved only in +silent prayer or when some friend spoke to her of her unhappy son. His +deed she well knew was that of a reprobate, and she sought no excuse or +defence; her mother’s heart forgave it without any. Whenever she thought +of him--and she thought of him incessantly all through the day and +through her sleepless nights-her eyes overflowed with tears. + +Her boat had reached Pelusium just as the flames were breaking out in +the palace; the broad flare of light and the cries from the various +vessels in the harbor brought her on deck. She heard that the burning +house was the pavilion erected by Ani for the king’s residence; Rameses +she was told was in the utmost danger, and the fire had beyond a doubt +been laid by traitors. + +As day broke and further news reached her, the names of her son and of +her sister came to her ear; she asked no questions--she would not hear +the truth--but she knew it all the same; as often as the word “traitor” + caught her ear in her cabin, to which she had retreated, she felt as if +some keen pain shot through her bewildered brain, and shuddered as if +from a cold chill. + +All through that day she could neither eat nor drink, but lay with +closed eyes on her couch, while her steward--who had soon learnt what a +terrible share his former master had taken in the incendiarism, and +who now gave up his lady’s cause for lost--sought every where for the +high-priest Ameni; but as he was among the persons nearest to the king +it was impossible to see him that day, and it was not till the next +morning that he was able to speak with him. Ameni inspired the anxious +and sorrowful old retainer with, fresh courage, returned with him in +his own chariot to the harbor, and accompanied him to Setchem’s boat +to prepare her for the happiness which awaited her after her terrible +troubles. But he came too late, the spirit of the poor lady was quite +clouded, and she listened to him without any interest while he strove +to restore her to courage and to recall her wandering mind. She only +interrupted him over and over again with the questions: “Did he do it?” + or “Is he alive?” + +At last Ameni succeeded in persuading her to accompany him in her litter +to his tent, where she would find her son. Pentaur was wonderfully like +her lost husband, and the priest, experienced in humanity, thought that +the sight of him would rouse the dormant powers of her mind. When she +had arrived at his tent, he told her with kind precaution the whole +history of the exchange of Paaker for Pentaur, and she followed the +story with attention but with indifference, as if she were hearing of +the adventures of others who did not concern her. When Ameni enlarged on +the genius of the poet and on his perfect resemblance to his dead father +she muttered: + +“I know--I know. You mean the speaker at the Feast of the Valley,” + and then although she had been told several times that Paaker had been +killed, she asked again if her son was alive. + +Ameni decided at last to fetch Pentaur himself, + +When he came back with him, fully prepared to meet his heavily-stricken +mother, the tent was empty. The high-priest’s servants told him that +Setchem had persuaded the easily-moved old prophet Gagabu to conduct her +to the place where the body of Paaker lay. Ameni was very much vexed, +for he feared that Setchem was now lost indeed, and he desired the poet +to follow him at once. + +The mortal remains of the pioneer had been laid in a tent not far from +the scene of the fire; his body was covered with a cloth, but his pale +face, which had not been injured in his fall, remained uncovered; by his +side knelt the unhappy mother. + +She paid no heed to Ameni when he spoke to her, and he laid his hand on +her shoulder and said as he pointed to the body: + +“This was the son of a gardener. You brought him up faithfully as if he +were your own; but your noble husband’s true heir, the son you bore him, +is Pentaur, to whom the Gods have given not only the form and features +but the noble qualities of his father. The dead man may be forgiven--for +the sake of your virtues; but your love is due to this nobler soul--the +real son of your husband, the poet of Egypt, the preserver of the king’s +life.” + +Setchem rose and went up to Pentaur, she smiled at him and stroked his +face and breast. + +“It is he,” she said. “May the Immortals bless him!” + +Pentaur would have clasped her in his arms, but she pushed him away as +if she feared to commit some breach of faith, and turning hastily to the +bier she said softly: + +“Poor Paaker--poor, poor Paaker!” + +“Mother, mother, do you not know your son?” cried Pentaur deeply moved. + +She turned to him again: “It is his voice,” she said. “It is he.” + +She went up to Pentaur, clung to him, clasped her arm around his neck as +he bent over her, then kissing him fondly: + +“The Gods will bless you!” she said once more. She tore herself from +him and threw herself down by the body of Paaker, as if she had done him +some injustice and robbed him of his rights. + +Thus she remained, speechless and motionless, till they carried her back +to her boat, there she lay down, and refused to take any nourishment; +from time to time she whispered “Poor Paaker!” She no longer repelled +Pentaur, for she did not again recognize him, and before he left her she +had followed the rough-natured son of her adoption to the other world. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + +The king had left the camp, and had settled in the neighboring city of +Rameses’ Tanis, with the greater part of his army. The Hebrews, who were +settled in immense numbers in the province of Goshen, and whom Ani had +attached to his cause by remitting their task-work, were now driven +to labor at the palaces and fortifications which Rameses had begun to +build. + +At Tanis, too, the treaty of peace was signed and was presented to +Rameses inscribed on a silver tablet by Tarthisebu, the representative +of the Cheta king, in the name of his lord and master. + +Pentaur followed the king as soon as he had closed his mother’s eyes, +and accompanied her body to Heliopolis, there to have it embalmed; from +thence the mummy was to be sent to Thebes, and solemnly placed in the +grave of her ancestors. This duty of children towards their parents, +and indeed all care for the dead, was regarded as so sacred by the +Egyptians, that neither Pentaur nor Bent-Anat would have thought of +being united before it was accomplished. + +On the 21st day of the month Tybi, of the 21st year of the reign of +Rameses, the day on which the peace was signed, the poet returned to +Tanis, sad at heart, for the old gardener, whom he had regarded and +loved as his father, had died before his return home; the good old man +had not long survived the false intelligence of the death of the poet, +whom he had not only loved but reverenced as a superior being bestowed +upon his house as a special grace from the Gods. + +It was not till seven months after the fire at Pelusium that Pentaur’s +marriage with Bent-Anat was solemnized in the palace of the Pharaohs at +Thebes; but time and the sorrows he had suffered had only united their +hearts more closely. She felt that though he was the stronger she was +the giver and the helper, and realized with delight that like the sun, +which when it rises invites a thousand flowers to open and unfold, the +glow of her presence raised the poet’s oppressed soul to fresh life +and beauty. They had given each other up for lost through strife and +suffering, and now had found each other again; each knew how precious +the other was. To make each other happy, and prove their affection, was +now the aim of their lives, and as they each had proved that they prized +honor and right-doing above happiness their union was a true marriage, +ennobling and purifying their souls. She could share his deepest +thoughts and his most difficult undertakings, and if their house +were filled with children she would know how to give him the fullest +enjoyment of those small blessings which at the same time are the +greatest joys of life. + +Pentaur finding himself endowed by the king with superabundant wealth, +gave up the inheritance of his fathers to his brother Horus, who was +raised to the rank of chief pioneer as a reward for his interposition +at the battle of Kadesh; Horus replaced the fallen cedar-trees which had +stood at the door of his house by masts of more moderate dimensions. + +The hapless Huni, under whose name Pentaur had been transferred to the +mines of Sinai, was released from the quarries of Chennu, and restored +to his children enriched by gifts from the poet. + +The Pharaoh fully recognized the splendid talents of his daughter’s +husband; she to his latest days remained his favorite child, even after +he had consolidated the peace by marrying the daughter of the Cheta +king, and Pentaur became his most trusted adviser, and responsible for +the weightiest affairs in the state. + +Rameses learned from the papers found in Ani’s tent, and from other +evidence which was only too abundant, that the superior of the House of +Seti, and with him the greater part of the priesthood, had for a long +time been making common cause with the traitor; in the first instance +he determined on the severest, nay bloodiest punishment, but he was +persuaded by Pentaur and by his son Chamus to assert and support the +principles of his government by milder and yet thorough measures. +Rameses desired to be a defender of religion--of the religion which +could carry consolation into the life of the lowly and over-burdened, +and give their existence a higher and fuller meaning--the religion which +to him, as king, appeared the indispensable means of keeping the grand +significance of human life ever present to his mind--sacred as the +inheritance of his fathers, and useful as the school where the people, +who needed leading, might learn to follow and obey. + +But nevertheless no one, not even the priests, the guardians of souls, +could be permitted to resist the laws of which he was the bulwark, +to which he himself was subject, and which enjoined obedience to his +authority; and before he left Tanis he had given Ameni and his followers +to understand that he alone was master in Egypt. + +The God Seth, who had been honored by the Semite races since the time of +the Hyksos, and whom they called upon under the name of Baal, had from +the earliest times never been allowed a temple on the Nile, as being the +God of the stranger; but Rameses--in spite of the bold remonstrances of +the priestly party who called themselves the ‘true believers’--raised +a magnificent temple to this God in the city of Tanis to supply the +religious needs of the immigrant foreigners. In the same spirit +of toleration he would not allow the worship of strange Gods to be +interfered with, though on the other hand he was jealous in honoring +the Egyptian Gods with unexampled liberality. He caused temples to be +erected in most of the great cities of the kingdom, he added to the +temple of Ptah at Memphis, and erected immense colossi in front of its +pylons in memory of his deliverance from the fire. + + [One of these is still in existence. It lies on the ground among + the ruins of ancient Memphis.] + +In the Necropolis of Thebes he had a splendid edifice constructed-which +to this day delights the beholder by the symmetry of its proportions in +memory of the hour when he escaped death as by a miracle; on its pylon +he caused the battle of Kadesh to be represented in beautiful pictures +in relief, and there, as well as on the architrave of the great +banqueting--hall, he had the history inscribed of the danger he had run +when he stood “alone and no man with him!” + +By his order Pentaur rewrote the song he had sung at Pelusium; it is +preserved in three temples, and, in fragments, on several papyrus-rolls +which can be made to complete each other. It was destined to become the +national epic--the Iliad of Egypt. + +Pentaur was commissioned to transfer the school of the House of Seti +to the new votive temple, which was called the House of Rameses, +and arrange it on a different plan, for the Pharaoh felt that it was +requisite to form a new order of priests, and to accustom the ministers +of the Gods to subordinate their own designs to the laws of the country, +and to the decrees of their guardian and ruler, the king. Pentaur was +made the superior of the new college, and its library, which was called +“the hospital for the soul,” was without an equal; in this academy, +which was the prototype of the later-formed museum and library of +Alexandria, sages and poets grew up whose works endured for thousands +of years--and fragments of their writings have even come down to us. The +most famous are the hymns of Anana, Pentaur’s favorite disciple, and the +tale of the two Brothers, composed by Gagabu, the grandson of the old +Prophet. + +Ameni did not remain in Thebes. Rameses had been informed of the way in +which he had turned the death of the ram to account, and the use he had +made of the heart, as he had supposed it, of the sacred animal, and +he translated him without depriving him of his dignity or revenues to +Mendes, the city of the holy rams in the Delta, where, as he observed +not without satirical meaning, he would be particularly intimate with +these sacred beasts; in Mendes Ameni exerted great influence, and in +spite of many differences of opinion which threatened to sever them, he +and Pentaur remained fast friends to the day of his death. + +In the first court of the House of Rameses there stands--now broken +across the middle--the wonder of the traveller, the grandest colossus +in Egypt, made of the hardest granite, and exceeding even the well-known +statue of Memnon in the extent of its base. It represents Rameses the +Great. Little Scherau, whom Pentaur had educated to be a sculptor, +executed it, as well as many other statues of the great sovereign of +Egypt. + +A year after the burning of the pavilion at Pelusium Rameri sailed to +the land of the Danaids, was married to Uarda, and then remained in his +wife’s native country, where, after the death of her grandfather, he +ruled over many islands of the Mediterranean and became the founder of a +great and famous race. Uarda’s name was long held in tender remembrance +by their subjects, for having grown up in misery she understood the +secret of alleviating sorrow and relieving want, and of doing good and +giving happiness without humiliating those she benefitted. THE END. + + + ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + + A dirty road serves when it makes for the goal + Age when usually even bad liquor tastes of honey + An admirer of the lovely color of his blue bruises + Ardently they desire that which transcends sense + Ask for what is feasible + Bearers of ill ride faster than the messengers of weal + Blossom of the thorny wreath of sorrow + Called his daughter to wash his feet + Colored cakes in the shape of beasts + Deficient are as guilty in their eyes as the idle + Desert is a wonderful physician for a sick soul + Do not spoil the future for the sake of the present + Drink of the joys of life thankfully, and in moderation + Every misfortune brings its fellow with it + Exhibit one’s happiness in the streets, and conceal one’s misery + Eyes kind and frank, without tricks of glance + For fear of the toothache, had his sound teeth drawn + Hatred for all that hinders the growth of light + Hatred between man and man + He is clever and knows everything, but how silly he looks now + He who looks for faith must give faith + Her white cat was playing at her feet + How easy it is to give wounds, and how hard it is to heal + How tender is thy severity + Human sacrifices, which had been introduced into Egypt by the + Phoenicians + I know that I am of use + I have never deviated from the exact truth even in jest + If it were right we should not want to hide ourselves + Impartial looker-on sees clearer than the player + It is not seeing, it is seeking that is delightful + Judge only by appearances, and never enquire into the causes + Kisra called wine the soap of sorrow + Learn early to pass lightly over little things + Learn to obey, that later you may know how to command + Like the cackle of hens, which is peculiar to Eastern women + Man has nothing harder to endure than uncertainty + Many creditors are so many allies + Medicines work harm as often as good + Money is a pass-key that turns any lock + No good excepting that from which we expect the worst + No one so self-confident and insolent as just such an idiot + None of us really know anything rightly + Obstinacy--which he liked to call firm determination + Often happens that apparent superiority does us damage + One falsehood usually entails another + One should give nothing up for lost excepting the dead + Only the choice between lying and silence + Our thinkers are no heroes, and our heroes are no sages + Overbusy friends are more damaging than intelligent enemies + Patronizing friendliness + Prepare sorrow when we come into the world + Principle of over-estimating the strength of our opponents + Provide yourself with a self-devised ruler + Refreshed by the whip of one of the horsemen + Repugnance for the old laws began to take root in his heart + Seditious words are like sparks, which are borne by the wind + Successes, like misfortunes, never come singly + The beginning of things is not more attractive + The scholar’s ears are at his back: when he is flogged + The man within him, and not on the circumstances without + The dressing and undressing of the holy images + The experienced love to signify their superiority + The mother of foresight looks backwards + Think of his wife, not with affection only, but with pride + Those whom we fear, says my uncle, we cannot love + Thou canst say in words what we can only feel + Thought that the insane were possessed by demons + Title must not be a bill of fare + Trustfulness is so dear, so essential to me + Use words instead of swords, traps instead of lances + We quarrel with no one more readily than with the benefactor + Whether the form of our benevolence does more good or mischief + Youth should be modest, and he was assertive + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Uarda, Complete, by Georg Ebers + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UARDA, COMPLETE *** + +***** This file should be named 5449-0.txt or 5449-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/4/5449/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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