The Pharaoh and the Priest
by Boleslaw Prus
THE PHARAOH AND THE PRIEST
AN HISTORICAL NOVEL OF ANCIENT EGYPT
The Pharaoh and the Priest
THE PHARAOH AND THE PRIEST
FROM THE ORIGINAL POLISH OF ALEXANDER GLOVATSKI
BY
JEREMIAH CURTIN
TRANSLATOR OF WITH FIRE AND SWORD, THE DELUGE QUO VADIS, ETC.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS
BOSTON LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY.1902
CURTIN.
All rights reserved. Published September, 1902.
UNIVERSITY PRESS JOHN WILSON AND SON CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A
PREFATORY
REMARKS
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXV
CHAPTER XXVI
CHAPTER XXVII
CHAPTER XXVIII
CHAPTER XXIX
CHAPTER XXX
CHAPTER XXXI
CHAPTER XXXII
CHAPTER XXXIII
CHAPTER XXXIV
CHAPTER XXXV
CHAPTER XXXVI
CHAPTER XXXVII
CHAPTER XXXVIII,
CHAPTER XXXIX
CHAPTER XL
CHAPTER XLI
CHAPTER XLII
CHAPTER XLIII
CHAPTER XLIV
CHAPTER XLV
CHAPTER XLVI
CHAPTER XLVII
CHAPTER XLVIII
CHAPTER XLIX
CHAPTER L
CHAPTER LI
CHAPTER LII
CHAPTER LIII
CHAPTER LIV
CHAPTER LV
CHAPTER LVI
CHAPTER LVII
CHAPTER LVIII
CHAPTER LIX
CHAPTER LX
CHAPTER LXI
CHAPTER LXII
CHAPTER LXIII
CHAPTER LXIV
CHAPTER LXV
CHAPTER LXVI
CHAPTER LXVII
PREFATORY REMARKS
The position of Ancient Egypt was unique, not in one, but in every
sense. To begin at the very foundation of life in that country, we find
that the soil was unlike any other on earth in its origin. Every acre
of fruitful land between the first cataract and the sea had been
brought from Inner Africa, and each year additions were made to it. Out
of this mud, borne down thousands of miles from the great fertile
uplands of Abyssinia by rivers, grew everything needed to feed and
clothe man and nourish animals. Out of it also was made the brick from
which walls, houses, and buildings of various uses and kinds were
constructed. Though this soil of the country was rich, it could be
utilized only by the unceasing co-ordinate efforts of a whole
population constrained and directed. To direct and constrain was the
task of the priests and the pharaohs.
Never have men worked in company so long and successfully at tilling
the earth as the Egyptians, and never has the return been so continuous
and abundant from land as in their case.
The Nile valley furnished grain to all markets accessible by water;
hence Rome, Greece, and Judaea ate the bread of Egypt. On this national
tillage was founded the greatness of the country, for from it came the
means to execute other works, and in it began that toil, training, and
skill indispensable in rearing the monuments and doing those things
which have made Egypt famous forever, and preserved to us a knowledge
of the language, religion, modes of living, and history of that
wonderful people who held the Nile valley. No civilized person who has
looked on the pyramid of Ghizeh, the temple of Karnak, and the tombs of
the pharaohs in the Theban region, can ever forget them. But in those
monuments are preserved things of far greater import than they
themselves are. In the tombs and temples of Egypt we see on stone and
papyrus how that immense work of making speech visible was
accomplished, that task of presenting language to the eye instead of
the ear, and preserving the spoken word so as to give it to eye or ear
afterwards. In other terms, we have the history of writing from its
earliest beginnings to the point at which we connect it with the system
used now by all civilized nations excepting the Chinese. In those
monuments are preserved the history of religion in Egypt, not from the
beginning of human endeavor to explain first what the world is and then
what we ourselves are and what we and the world mean together, but from
a time far beyond any recorded by man in other places.
Egyptians had the genius which turned a narrow strip of Abyssinian
mud and a triangular patch of swamp at the end of it into the most
fruitful land of antiquity. They had also that genius which impels man
to look out over the horizon around him, see more than the material
problems of life, and gaze into the beyond, gaze intently and never
cease gazing till he finds what his mind seeks. It was the possession
of these two kinds of genius and the union of the two which made the
position of Egypt in history unique and unapproachable.
The greatness of Egypt lay primarily in her ideas, and was achieved
through a perfect control over labor by intellect. While this control
was exerted even approximately in accordance with the nation's
historical calling, it was effectual and also unchallenged. But when
the exercise of power, with the blandishments and physical pleasures
which always attend it, had become dearer to the priesthood and to
pharaohs than aught else on earth or in their ideals, then began the
epoch of Egypt's final doom: foreign bondage and national ruin.
The action presented in the volume before us relates to those days
when the guiding intellect of Egypt became irrevocably dual, and when
between the two parts of it, the priests and the pharaohs, opposition
appeared so clearly defined and incurable that the ruin of both sides
was evident in the future.
The ruin of a pharaoh and the fall of his dynasty, with the rise of
a self-chosen sovereign and a new line of rulers, are the double
consummation in this novel. The book ends with that climax, but the
fall of the new priestly rulers is a matter of history, as is the
destruction wrought on Egypt by tyrants from Assyria and Persia. The
native pharaohs lost power through the priesthood, whose real interest
it was to support them; but fate found the priests later on, and
pronounced on them also the doom of extinction.
Alexander Glovatski was born in 1847 in Mashov, a village of the
Government of Lublin. He finished his preliminary studies in the Lublin
Gymnasium, and was graduated from the University of Warsaw. He took
part in the uprising of 1863, but was captured, and liberated after
some mouths' detention. As a student he showed notable power, and was
exceptionally attracted by mathematics and science, to which he gives
much attention yet, though occupied mainly in literature.
Glovatski's published works are in seventeen volumes. These books,
with the exception of The Pharaoh and the Priest, are devoted to
modern characters, situations, and questions. His types are mainly from
Polish life. Very few of his characters are German or Russian; of
Polish types some are Jewish.
Alexander Glovatski is a true man of letters, a real philosopher,
retiring, industrious, and modest. He spends all his winters in Warsaw,
and lives every summer in the country. He permits neither society nor
coteries, nor interests of any sort, to snatch away time from him, or
influence his convictions. He goes about as he chooses, whenever he
likes and wherever it suits him. When ready to work he sits down in his
own house, and tells the world carefully and with kindness, though not
without irony, what he sees in it. What he sees is exhibited in the
seventeen volumes, which contain great and vivid pictures of life at
the end of the recent century. Men and women of various beliefs,
occupations, and values, are shown there.
Glovatski is entirely unknown to Americans. This book will present
him.
Excepting the view in the temple of Luxor the illustrations given in
this volume are from photographs taken by me in 1899, while I was
traveling in Egypt.
The title of this volume has been changed from The Pharaoh to The
Pharaoh and the Priest, at the wish of the author.
JEREMIAH CURTIN.
BRISTOL, VERMONT, U. S. A., July 28, 1902.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Alexander Glovatski Frontispiece
Jeremiah Curtin at the Statue of Ramses the Great in the Temple of
Luxor
Step Pyramid
Village of Bedreshen on the site of Memphis
Pyramid of Cheops
The Great Sphinx
Statue of the Pharaoh Tutankhamen
General View of the Ruins of Karnak
Tomb of a Pharaoh in the Libyan Hills
Avenue of Sphinxes from the Temple of Karnak to the Nile
THE PHARAOH AND THE PRIEST
INTRODUCTION
In the northeastern corner of Africa lies Egypt, that land of most
ancient civilization. Three, four, and even five thousand years ago,
when the savages of Central Europe wore untanned skins for clothing and
were cave-dwellers, Egypt had a high social organization, agriculture,
crafts, and literature. Above all, it carried out engineering works and
reared immense buildings, the remnants of which rouse admiration in
specialists of our day.
Egypt is that rich ravine between the Libyan sands and the Arabian
desert. Its depth is several hundred meters, its length six hundred and
fifty miles, its average width barely five. On the west the gently
sloping but naked Libyan hills, on the east the steep and broken cliffs
of Arabia form the sides of a corridor on the bottom of which flows the
river Nile.
With the course of the river northward the walls of the corridor
decrease in height, while a hundred and twenty-five miles from the sea
they expand on a sudden, and the river, instead of flowing through a
narrow passage, spreads in various arms over a broad level plain which
is shaped like a triangle. This triangle, called the Delta of the Nile,
has for its base the shore of the Mediterranean; at its apex, where the
river issues from the corridor, stands the city of Cairo, and near by
are the ruins of Memphis, the ancient capital.
Could a man rise one hundred miles in the air and gaze thence upon
Egypt, he would see the strange outlines of that country and the
peculiar changes in its color. From that elevation, on the background
of white and orange colored sands, Egypt would look like a serpent
pushing with energetic twists through a desert to the sea, iii which it
has dipped already its triangular head, which has two eyes, the left
Alexandria, the right Damietta.
In October, when the Nile inundates Egypt, that long serpent would
be blue, like water. In February, when spring vegetation takes the
place of the decreasing river, the serpent would be green, with a blue
line along its body and a multitude of blue veins on its head; these
are canals which cut through the Delta. In March the blue line would be
narrower, and the body of the serpent, because of ripening grain, would
seem golden. Finally, in the first days of June the line of the Nile
would be very narrow and the serpent's body gray from dust and drought.
The chief climatic feature in Egypt is heat. During January it is 57
above zero, in July sometimes the heat reaches 149 which answers to the
temperature of a Roman bath. Moreover, in the neighborhood of the
Mediterranean, on the Delta, rain falls barely ten times a year; in
Upper Egypt it falls once during ten years.
In these conditions Egypt, instead of being the cradle of
civilization, would have been a desert ravine like one of those which
compose the Sahara, if the waters of the sacred Nile had not brought
life to it annually. From the last days of June till the end of
September the Nile swells and inundates almost all Egypt; from the end
of October to the last days in May the year following it falls and
exposes gradually lower and lower platforms of land. The waters of the
river are so permeated with mineral and organic matter that their color
becomes brownish; hence, as the waters decrease, on inundated lands is
deposited fruitful mud which takes the place of the best fertilizer.
Owing to this, mud and to heat, Egyptian earth tillers, fenced in
between deserts, have three harvests yearly and from one grain of seed
receive back about three hundred.
Egypt, however, is not a flat plain, but a rolling country; some
portions of its laud drink the blessed waters during two or three
months only; others do not see it every year, as the overflow does not
reach certain points annually. Besides, seasons of scant water occur,
and then a part of Egypt fails to receive the enriching deposit.
Finally, because of heat the earth dries up quickly, and then man has
to irrigate out of vessels.
In view of all these conditions people inhabiting the Nile valley
had to perish if they were weak, or regulate the water if they had
genius. The ancient Egyptians had genius, hence they created
civilization.
Six thousand years ago they observed that the Nile rose when the sun
appeared under Sirius, and began to fall when it neared the
constellation Libra. This impelled them to make astronomical
observations and to measure time.
To preserve water for the whole year, they dug throughout their
country a network of canals many thousand miles in length. To guard
against excessive waste of water, they built mighty dams and dug
reservoirs, among which the artificial lake Moeris occupied three
hundred square kilometers of surface and was fifty-four meters deep.
Finally, along the Nile and the canals they set up a multitude of
simple but practical hydraulic works; through the aid of these they
raised water and poured it out upon the fields; these machines were
placed one or two stories higher than the water. To complete all, there
was need to clear the choked canals yearly, repair the dams and build
lofty roads for the army, which had to march at all seasons.
These gigantic works demanded knowledge of astronomy, geometry,
mechanics, and architecture, besides a perfect organization. Whether
the task was the strengthening of dams or the clearing of canals, it
had to be done and finished within a certain period over a great area.
Hence arose the need of forming an army of laborers, tens of thousands
in number, acting with a definite purpose and under uniform direction,
an army which demanded many provisions, much means, and great auxiliary
forces.
Egypt established such an army of laborers, and to them were due
works renowned during ages. It seems that Egyptian priests or sages
created this army and then drew out plans for it, while the kings, or
pharaohs, commanded. In consequence of this the Egyptians in the days
of their greatness formed as it were one person, in which the priestly
order performed the role of mind, the pharaoh was the will, the people
formed the body, and obedience gave cohesion.
In this way nature, striving in Egypt for a work great, continuous,
and ordered, created the skeleton of a social organism for that country
as follows: the people labored, the pharaoh commanded, the priests made
the plans. While these three elements worked unitedly toward the
objects indicated by nature, society had strength to flourish and
complete immortal labors.
The mild, gladsome, and by no means warlike Egyptians were divided
into two classes, earth-tillers and artisans. Among earth-tillers there
must have been owners of small bits of laud, but generally
earth-tillers were tenants on lands belonging to the pharaohs, the
priests, and the aristocracy. The artisans, the people who made
clothing, furniture, vessels, and tools, were independent; those who
worked at great edifices formed, as it were, an army.
Each of those specialties, and particularly architecture, demanded
power of hauling and moving; some men had to draw water all day from
canals, or transport stones from the quarries to where they were
needed. These, the most arduous mechanical occupations, and above all
work in the quarries were carried on by criminals condemned by the
courts, or by prisoners seized in battle.
The genuine Egyptians had a bronze-colored skin, of which they were
very proud, despising the black Ethiopian, the yellow Semite, and the
white European. This color of skin, which enabled them to distinguish
their own people from strangers, helped to keep up the nation's unity
more strictly than religion, which a man may accept, or language, which
he may appropriate.
But in time, when the edifice of the state began to weaken, foreign
elements appeared in growing numbers. They lessened cohesion, they
split apart society, they flooded Egypt and absorbed the original
inhabitants.
The pharaohs governed the state by the help of a standing army and a
militia or police, also by a multitude of officials, from whom was
formed by degrees an aristocracy of family. By his office the pharaoh
was lawgiver, supreme king, highest judge, chief priest; he was the son
of a god, a god himself even. He accepted divine honors, not only from
officials and the people, but sometimes he raised altars to his own
person, and burnt incense before images of himself.
At the side of the pharaoh and very often above him were priests, an
order of sages who directed the destinies of the country.
In our day it is almost impossible to imagine the extraordinary role
which the priests played in Egypt. They were instructors of rising
generations, also soothsayers, hence the advisers of mature people,
judges of the dead, to whom their will and their knowledge guaranteed
immortality. They not only performed the minute ceremonies of religion
for the gods and the pharaohs, but they healed the sick as physicians,
they influenced the course of public works as engineers, and also
politics as astrologers, but above all they knew their own country and
its neighbors.
In Egyptian history the first place is occupied by the relations
which existed between the priests and the pharaohs. Most frequently the
pharaoh laid rich offerings before the gods and built temples. Then he
lived long, and his name, with his images cut out on monuments, passed
from generation to generation, full of glory. But many pharaohs reigned
for a short period only, and of some not merely the deeds, but the
names disappeared from record. A couple of times it happened that a
dynasty fell, and straightway the cap of the pharaohs, encircled with a
serpent, was taken by a priest.
Egypt continued to develop while a people of one composition,
energetic kings, and wise priests co-operated for the common weal. But
a time came when the people, in consequence of wars, decreased in
number and lost their strength through oppression and extortion; the
intrusion of foreign elements at this period undermined Egyptian race
unity. And when the energy of pharaohs and the wisdom of priests sank
in the flood of Asiatic luxury, and these two powers began to struggle
with each other for undivided authority to plunder the toiling people,
then Egypt fell under foreign control, and the light of civilized life,
which had burnt on the Nile for millenniums, was extinguished.
The following narrative relates to the eleventh century before
Christ, when the twentieth dynasty fell, and after the offspring of the
sun, the eternally living Ramses XIII, Sem-Amen-Herhor, the high priest
of Amon and ever-living offspring of the sun, forced his way to the
throne and adorned his head with the ureus.
CHAPTER I
In the thirty-third year of the happy reign of Ramses XII, Egypt
celebrated two festivals which filled all its faithful inhabitants with
pride and delight.
In the month of Mechir that is, during January the god Khonsu
returned to Thebes covered with costly gifts. For three years and nine
months he had traveled in the country of Buchten, where he restored
health to the king's daughter, Bentres, and expelled an evil spirit not
only from the royal family, but even from the fortress.
So in the month Farmuti (February) Mer-Amen-Ramses XII, the lord of
Upper and Lower Egypt, the ruler of Phoenicia and nine nations, after
consultation with the gods to whom he was equal, named as erpatr, or
heir to the throne, his son, aged twenty years, Cham-Sem Merer-Amen-Ramses.
This choice delighted the pious priests, the worthy nomarchs, the
valiant army, the faithful people, and every creature living in Egypt,
because the older sons of the pharaoh, who were born of a Hittite
princess, had been visited by an evil spirit through enchantments which
no one had the power to investigate. One son of twenty-seven years was
unable to walk after reaching maturity; the second opened his veins and
died; the third, through poisoned wine, which he would not cease
drinking, fell into madness, and believing himself a monkey, passed
whole days among tree branches.
But the fourth son, Ramses, born of Queen Nikotris, daughter of the
priest Amenhotep, was as strong as the bull Apis, as brave as a lion,
and as wise as the priests. From childhood he surrounded himself with
warriors, and while still a common prince, used to say,
If the gods, instead of making me the youngest son of his holiness,
had made me a pharaoh, like Ramses the Great, I would conquer nine
nations, of which people in Egypt have never heard mention; I would
build a temple larger than all Thebes, and rear for myself a pyramid
near which the tomb of Cheops would be like a rosebush at the side of a
full-grown palm-tree.
On receiving the much desired title of heir, the young prince begged
his father to be gracious and appoint him to command the army corps of
Memphis. To this his holiness, Ramses XII, after consultation with the
gods, to whom he was equal, answered that he would do so in case the
heir could give proof that he had skill to direct a mass of troops
arrayed for battle.
A council was called under the presidency of the minister of war,
Sem- Amen-Herhor, high priest of the great sanctuary of Amon in Thebes.
The council decided in this way: The heir to the throne, in the
middle of the month Mesore, will take ten regiments, disposed along the
line which connects Memphis with the city of Pi-uto, situated on the
Bay of Sebenico.
With this corps of ten thousand men prepared for battle, provided
with a camp and with military engines, the heir will betake himself
eastward along the highroad from Memphis toward Hittite regions, which
road lies on the boundary between the land of Goshen and the
wilderness. At this time General Nitager, commander of the army which
guards the gates of Egypt from attacks of Asiatic people, will move
from the Bitter Lakes against the heir, Prince Ramses.
Both armies, the Asiatic and the Western, are to meet near
Pi-Bailos, but in the wilderness, so that industrious husbandmen in the
land of Goshen be not hindered in their labors.
The heir will be victorious if he does not let himself be surprised
by Nitager, that is, if he concentrates all his forces and succeeds in
putting them in order of battle to meet the enemy.
His worthiness Herhor, the minister of war, will be present in the
camp of Prince Ramses, and will report to the pharaoh.
Two ways of communication formed the boundary between the land of
Goshen and the desert. One was the transport canal from Memphis to Lake
Timrah; the other was the highroad. The canal was in the laud of
Goshen, the highroad in the desert which both ways bounded with a half
circle.
The canal was visible from almost every point upon the highroad.
Whatever artificial boundaries might be, these neighboring regions
differed in all regards. The land of Goshen, though a rolling country,
seemed a plain; the desert was composed of limestone hills and sandy
valleys. The land of Goshen seemed a gigantic chessboard the green and
yellow squares of which were indicated by the color of grain and by
palms growing on their boundaries; but on the ruddy sand of the desert
and its white hills a patch of green or a clump of trees and bushes
seemed like a lost traveler.
On the fertile land of Goshen from each hill shot up a dark grove of
acacias, sycamores, and tamarinds which from a distance looked like our
lime-trees; among these were concealed villas with rows of short
columns, or the yellow mud huts of earth-tillers. Sometimes near the
grove was a white village with flat-roofed houses, or above the trees
rose the pyramidal gates of a temple, like double cliffs, many-colored
with strange characters. From the desert beyond the first row of hills,
which were a little green, stared naked elevations covered with blocks
of stone. It seemed as if the western region, sated with excess of
life, hurled with regal generosity to the other side flowers and
vegetables, but the desert in eternal hunger devoured them in the
following year and turned them into ashes.
The stunted vegetation, exiled to cliffs and sands, clung to the
lower places until, by means of ditches made in the sides of the raised
highroad, men conducted water from the canals to it. In fact, hidden
oases between naked hills along that highway drank in the divine water.
In these oases grew wheat, barley, grapes, palms, and tamarinds. The
whole of such an oasis was sometimes occupied by one family, which when
it met another like itself at the market in Pi-Bailos might not even
know that they were neighbors in the desert.
On the fifteenth of Mesore the concentration of troops was almost
finished. The regiments of Prince Ramses, which were to meet the
Asiatic forces of Nitager, had assembled on the road above the city of
Pi-Bailos with their camp and with some military engines.
The heir himself directed all the movements. He had organized two
parties of scouts. Of these the first had to watch the enemy, the other
to guard its own army from attack, which was possible in a hilly region
with many ravines. Ramses, in the course of a week, rode around and
examined all the regiments, inarching by various roads, looking
carefully to see if the soldiers had good weapons and warm mantles for
the night hours, if in the camps there was dried bread in sufficiency
as well as meat and dried fish. He commanded, besides, that the wives,
children, and slaves of warriors marching to the eastern boundary
should be conveyed by canal; this diminished the number of chariots and
eased the movements of the army.
The oldest generals admired the zeal, knowledge, and caution of the
heir, and, above all, his simplicity and love of labor. His court,
which was numerous, his splendid tent, chariots, and litters were left
in the capital, and, dressed as a simple officer, he hurried from
regiment to regiment on horseback, in Assyrian fashion, attended by two
adjutants.
Thanks to this concentration, the corps itself went forward very
swiftly, and the army was near Pi-Bailos at the time appointed.
It was different with the prince's staff, and the Greek regiment
accompanying it, and with some who moved military engines.
The staff, collected in Memphis, had the shortest road to travel;
hence it moved latest, bringing an immense camp with it. Nearly every
officer, and they were young lords of great families, had a litter with
four negroes, a two-wheeled military chariot, a rich tent, and a
multitude of boxes with food and clothing, also jars full of beer and
wine. Besides, a numerous troop of singers and dancers, with music, had
betaken themselves to journey behind the officers; each woman must, in
the manner of a great lady, have a car drawn by one or two pair of
oxen, and must have also a litter.
When this throng poured out of Memphis, it occupied more space on
the highway than the army of Prince Ramses. The march was so slow that
the military engines which were left at the rear moved twenty-four
hours later than was ordered. To complete every evil the female dancers
and singers, on seeing the desert, not at all dreadful in that place,
were terrified and fell to weeping. To calm these women it was
necessary to hasten with the night camp, pitch tents, arrange a
spectacle, and a feast afterward.
The night amusement in the cool, under the starry sky, with wild
nature for a background, pleased dancers and singers exceedingly; they
declared that they would travel thenceforth only through the desert.
Meanwhile Prince Ramses sent an order to turn all women back to Memphis
at the earliest and urge the march forward.
His dignity Herhor, minister of war, was with the staff, but only as
a spectator. He had not brought singers himself, but he made no remarks
to officers. He gave command to carry his litter at the head of the
column, and accommodating himself to its movements, advanced or rested
under the immense fan with which his adjutant shaded him.
Herhor was a man of forty and some years of age, strongly built,
concentrated in character. He spoke rarely, and looked at people as
rarely from under his drooping eyelids. He went with arms and legs
bare, like every Egyptian, his breast exposed; he had sandals on his
feet, a short skirt about his hips, an apron with blue and white
stripes. As a priest, he shaved his beard and hair and wore a panther-skin hanging from his left shoulder. As a soldier, he covered his head
with a small helmet of the guard; from under this helmet hung a
kerchief, also in blue and white stripes; this reached his shoulders.
Around his neck was a triple gold chain, and under his left arm a short
sword in a costly scabbard. His litter, borne by six black slaves, was
attended always by three persons: one carried his fan, another the mace
of the minister, and the third a box for papyrus. This third man was
Pentuer, a priest, and the secretary of Herhor. He was a lean ascetic
who in the greatest heat never covered his shaven head. He came of the
people, but in spite of low birth he occupied a high position in the
state; this was due to exceptional abilities.
Though the minister with his officials preceded the staff and held
himself apart from its movements, it could not be said that he was
unconscious of what was happening behind him. Every hour, at times
every half hour, some one approached Herhor's litter, now a priest of
lower rank, an ordinary servant of the gods, a marauding soldier, a
freedman, or a slave, who, passing as it were indifferently the silent
retinue of the minister, threw out a word. That word Pentuer recorded
sometimes, but more frequently he remembered it, for his memory was
amazing.
No one in the noisy throng of the staff paid attention to these
details. The officers, sons of great lords, were too much occupied by
running, by noisy conversation, or by singing, to notice who approached
the minister; all the more since a multitude of people were pushing
along the highway.
On the sixteenth of Mesore the staff of Prince Ramses, together with
his dignity the minister, passed the night under the open sky at the
distance of five miles from the regiments which were arranged in battle
order across the highway beyond the city of Pi-Bailos.
In that early morning which precedes our six o'clock, the hills grew
violet, and from behind them came forth the sun. A rosy light flowed
over the land of Goshen. Villages, temples, palaces of magnates, and
huts of earth-tillers looked like sparks and flames which flashed up in
one moment from the midst of green spaces. Soon the western horizon was
flooded with a golden hue, and the green land of Goshen seemed melting
into gold, and the numberless canals seemed filled with molten silver.
But the desert hills grew still more marked with violet, and cast long
shadows on the sands, and darkness on the plant world.
The guards who stood along that highway could see with the utmost
clearness fields, edged with palms, beyond the canal. Some fields were
green with flax, wheat, clover; others were gilded with ripening barley
of the second growth. Now earth-tillers began to come out to field
labor, from huts concealed among trees; they were naked and bronze-hued; their whole dress was a short skirt and a cap. Some turned to
canals to clear them of mud, or to draw water. Others dispersing among
the trees gathered grapes and ripe figs. Many naked children stirred
about, and women were busy in white, yellow, or red shirts which were
sleeveless.
There was great movement in that region. In the sky birds of prey
from the desert pursued pigeons and daws in the land of Goshen. Along
the canal squeaking sweeps moved up and down, with buckets of
fertilizing water; fruit-gatherers appeared and disappeared among the
trees, like colored butterflies. But in the desert, on the highway,
swarmed the army and its servants. A division of mounted lancers shot
past. Behind them marched bowmen in caps and petticoats; they had bows
in their hands, quivers on their shoulders, and broadswords at their
right sides. The archers were accompanied by slingers who carried bags
with missiles and were armed with short swords.
A hundred yards behind them advanced two small divisions of footmen,
one division armed with darts, the other with spears. Both carried
rectangular shields; on their breasts they had thick coats, as it were
armor, and on their heads caps with kerchiefs behind to ward off the
sun-rays. The caps and coats had blue and white stripes or yellow and
black stripes, which made those soldiers seem immense hornets.
Behind the advance guard, surrounded by a retinue of macebearers,
pushed on the litter of the minister, and behind it, with bronze
helmets and breastplates, the Greek companies, whose measured tread
called to mind blows of heavy hammers. In the rear was heard the
creaking of vehicles, and from the side of the highway slipped along
the bearded Phoenician merchant in his litter borne between two asses.
Above all this rose a cloud of golden dust, and heat also.
Suddenly from the vanguard galloped up a mounted soldier and
informed Herhor that Prince Ramses, the heir to the throne, was
approaching. His worthiness descended from the litter, and at that
moment appeared a mounted party of men who halted and sprang from their
horses. One man of this party and the minister began to approach each
other, halting every few steps and bowing.
Be greeted, O son of the pharaoh; may he live through eternity!
said the minister.
Be greeted and live long, O holy father! answered Ramses; then he
added,
Ye advance as slowly as if your legs were sawn off, while Nitager
will stand before our division in two hours at the latest.
Thou hast told truth. Thy staff marches very slowly.
Eunana tells me also, here Ramses indicated an officer standing
behind him who was covered with amulets, that ye have not sent scouts
to search ravines. But in case of real war an enemy might attack from
that side.
I am not the leader, I am only a judge, replied the minister,
quietly.
But what can Patrokles be doing?
Patrokles is bringing up the military engines with his Greek
regiment.
But my relative and adjutant, Tutmosis?
He is sleeping yet, I suppose.
Ramses stamped impatiently, and was silent. He was a beautiful
youth, with a face almost feminine, to which anger and sunburn added
charm. He wore a close-fitting coat with blue and white stripes, a
kerchief of the same color behind his helmet, a gold chain around his
neck, and a costly sword beneath his left arm.
I see, said the prince, that Thou alone, Eunana, art mindful of
my honor.
The officer covered with amulets bent to the earth.
Tutmosis is indolent, said the heir. Return to thy place, Eunana.
Let the vanguard at least have a leader.
Then, looking at the suite which now surrounded him as if it had
sprung from under the earth on a sudden, he added,
Bring my litter. I am as tired as a quarryman.
Can the gods grow tired? whispered Eunana, still standing behind
him.
Go to thy place! said Ramses.
But perhaps Thou wilt command me, O image of the moon, to search
the ravines? asked the officer, in a low voice. Command, I beg thee,
for wherever I am my heart is chasing after thee to divine thy will and
accomplish it.
I know that Thou art watchful, answered Ramses. Go now and look
after everything.
Holy father, said Eunana, turning to the minister, I commend my
most obedient service to thy worthiness.
Barely had Eunana gone when at the end of the marching column rose a
still greater tumult. They looked for the heir's litter, but it was
gone. Then appeared, making his way through the Greek warriors, a youth
of strange exterior. He wore a muslin tunic, a richly embroidered
apron, and a golden scarf across his shoulder. But he was distinguished
above all by an immense wig with a multitude of tresses, and an
artificial beard like cats' tails.
That was Tutmosis, the first exquisite in Memphis, who dressed and
perfumed himself even during marches.
Be greeted, Ramses! exclaimed the exquisite, pushing aside
officers quickly. Imagine thy litter is lost somewhere; Thou must sit
in mine, which really is not fit for thee, but it is not the worst.
Thou hast angered me, answered the prince. Thou sleepest instead
of watching the army.
The astonished exquisite stopped.
I sleep? cried he. May the man's tongue wither up who invented
that calumny! I, knowing that Thou wouldst come, have been ready this
hour past, and am preparing a bath for thee and perfumes.
While thus engaged, the regiment is without a commander.
Am I to command a detachment where his worthiness the minister of
war is, and such a leader is present as Patrokles?
Ramses was silent; meanwhile Tutmosis, approaching him, whispered,
In what a plight Thou art, O son of the pharaoh! Without a wig, thy
hair and dress full of dust, thy skin black and cracked, like the earth
in summer. The queen, most deserving of honor, would drive me from the
court were she to look at thy wretchedness.
I am only tired.
Then take a seat in my litter. In it are fresh garlands of roses,
roast birds, and a jug of wine from Cyprus. I have kept also hidden in
the camp, added he in a lower voice, Senura.
Is she here? asked the prince; and his eyes, glittering a moment
before, were now mist-covered.
Let the army move on, said Tutmosis; we will wait here for her.
Ramses recovered himself.
Leave me, tempter! The battle will come in two hours.
What! a battle?
At least the decision as to my leadership.
Oh, laugh at it! smiled the exquisite. I would swear that the
minister of war sent a report of it yesterday, and with it the petition
to give thee the corps of Memphis.
No matter if he did. Today I have no thought for anything but the
army.
In thee this wish for war is dreadful, war during which a man does
not wash for a whole month, so as to die inBrr! But if Thou couldst
see Senura, only glance at her. .
For that very reason I shall not glance at her, answered Ramses,
decisively.
At the moment when eight men were bringing from beyond the Greek
ranks the immense litter of Tutmosis for the use of Ramses, a horseman
raced in from the vanguard. He dropped from his horse and ran so
quickly that on his breast the images of the gods or the tablets with
their names rattled loudly. This was Eunana in great excitement.
All turned to him, and this gave him pleasure apparently.
Erpatr, the loftiest lips, cried Eunana, bending before Ramses.
When, in accordance with thy divine command, I rode at the head of a
detachment, looking carefully at all things, I noticed on the highroad
two beautiful scarabs. Each of these sacred beetles was rolling an
earth ball toward the sands near the roadside.
What of that? interrupted Ramses.
Of course, continued Eunana, glancing toward Herhor, I and my
people, as piety enjoins, rendered homage to the golden symbols of the
sun, and halted. That augury is of such import that no man of us would
make a step forward unless commanded.
I see that Thou art a pious Egyptian, though Thou hast the features
of a Hittite, answered the worthy Herhor; and turning to certain
dignitaries standing near, he added,
We will not advance farther by the highway, for we might crush the
sacred beetles. Pentuer, can we go around the road by that ravine on
the right?
We can, answered the secretary. That ravine is five miles long,
and comes out again almost in front of Pi-Bailos.
An immense loss of time! interrupted Ramses, in anger.
I would swear that those are not scarabs, but the spirits of my
Phoenician usurers, said Tutmosis the exquisite. Not being able,
because of their death, to receive money from me, they will force me
now to march through the desert in punishment!
The suite of the prince awaited the decision with fear; so Ramses
turned to Herhor,
What dost Thou think of this, holy father?
Look at the officers, answered the priest, and Thou wilt
understand that we must go by the ravine.
Now Patrokles, leader of the Greeks, pushed forward and said to the
heir,
If the prince permit, my regiment will advance by the highway. My
soldiers have no fear of beetles!
Your soldiers have no fear of royal tombs even, added the
minister. Still it cannot be safe in them since no one has ever
returned.
The Greek pushed back to the suite confounded.
Confess, holy father, hissed the heir, with the greatest anger,
that such a hindrance would not stop even an ass on his journey.
True, but no ass will ever be pharaoh, retorted the minister,
calmly.
In that case thou, O minister, wilt lead the division through the
ravine! exclaimed Ramses. I am unacquainted with priestly tactics;
besides, I must rest. Come with me, cousin, said he to Tutmosis; and
he turned toward some naked hills.
CHAPTER II
Straightway his worthiness Herhor directed his adjutant who carried
the mace to take charge of the vanguard in place of Eunana. Then he
commanded that the military engines for hurling great stones leave the
road, and that the Greek soldiers facilitate passage for those engines
in difficult places. All vehicles and litters of staff-officers were to
move in the rear.
When Herhor issued commands, the adjutant bearing the fan approached
Pentuer and asked,
Will it be possible to go by this highway again?
Why not? answered the young priest. But since two sacred beetles
have barred the way now, we must not go farther; some misfortune might
happen.
As it is, a misfortune has happened. Or hast Thou not noticed that
Prince Ramses is angry at the minister? and our lord is not forgetful.
It is not the prince who is offended with our lord, but our lord
with the prince, and he has reproached him. He has done well; for it
seems to the young prince, at present, that he is to be a second
Menes.
Or a Ramses the Great, put in the adjutant.
Ramses the Great obeyed the gods; for this cause there are
inscriptions praising him in all the temples. But Menes, the first
pharaoh of Egypt, was a destroyer of order, and thanks only to the
fatherly kindness of the priests that his name is still remembered,
though I would not give one brass uten on this, that the mummy of Menes
exists.
My Pentuer, added the adjutant, Thou art a sage, hence knowest
that it is all one to us whether we have ten lords or eleven.
But it is not all one to the people whether they have to find every
year a mountain of gold for the priests, or two mountains of gold for
the priests and the pharaoh, answered Pentuer, while his eyes flashed.
Thou art thinking of dangerous things, said the adjutant, in a
whisper.
But how often hast Thou thyself grieved over the luxuries of the
pharaoh's court and of the nomarchs? inquired the priest in
astonishment.
Quiet, quiet! We will talk of this, but not now.
In spite of the sand the military engines, drawn each by two
bullocks, moved in the desert more speedily than along the highway.
With the first of them marched Eunana, anxiously. Why has the minister
deprived me of leadership over the vanguard? Does he wish to give me a
higher position? asked he in his own mind.
Thinking out then a new career, and perhaps to dull the fears which
made his heart quiver, he seized a pole and, where the sands were
deeper, propped the balista, or urged on the Greeks with an outcry.
They, however, paid slight attention to this officer.
The retinue had pushed on a good half hour through a winding ravine
with steep naked walls, when the vanguard halted a second time. At this
point another ravine crossed the first; in the middle of it extended a
rather broad canal.
The courier sent to the minister of war with notice of the obstacle
brought back a command to fill the canal immediately.
About a hundred soldiers with pickaxes and shovels rushed to the
work. Some knocked out stones from the cliff; others threw them into
the ditch and covered them with sand.
Meanwhile from the depth of the ravine came a man with a pickaxe
shaped like a stork's neck with the bill on it. He was an Egyptian
slave, old and entirely naked. He looked for a while with the utmost
amazement at the work of the soldiers; then, springing between them on
a sudden, he shouted,
What are ye doing, vile people? This is a canal.
But how darest Thou use evil words against the warriors of his
holiness? asked Eunana, who stood there.
Thou must be an Egyptian and a great person, I see that, said the
slave; so I answer thee that this canal belongs to a mighty lord; he
is the manager and secretary of one who bears the fan for his
worthiness the nomarch of Memphis. Be on thy guard or misfortune will
strike thee!
Do your work, said Eunana, with a patronizing tone, to the Greek
soldiers who began to look at the slave.
They did not understand his speech, but the tone of it arrested
them.
They are filling in all the time! said the slave, with rising
fear. Woe to thee! cried he, rushing at one of the Greeks with his
pickaxe.
The Greek pulled it from the man, struck him on the mouth, and
brought blood to his lips; then he threw sand into the canal again.
The slave, stunned by the blow, lost courage and fell to imploring.
Lord, said he, I dug this canal alone for ten years, in the night
time and during festivals! My master promised that if I should bring
water to this little valley he would make me a servant in it, give me
one fifth of the harvests, and grant me freedom do you hear? Freedom to
me and my three children! O gods!
He raised his hands and turned again to Eunana,
They do not understand me, these vagrants from beyond the sea,
descendants of dogs, brothers to Jews and Phoenicians! But listen,
lord, to me! For ten years, while other men went to fairs and dances or
sacred processions, I stole out into this dreary ravine. I did not go
to the grave of my mother, I only dug; I forgot the dead so as to give
freedom with laud to my children, and to myself even one free day
before death. Ye, O gods, be my witnesses how many times has night
found me here! how many times have I heard the wailing cries of hyenas
in this place, and seen the green eyes of wolves! But I did not flee,
for whither was I, the unfortunate, to flee, when at every path terror
was lurking, and in this canal freedom held me back by the feet? Once,
beyond that turn there, a lion came out against me, the pharaoh of
beasts. The pickaxe dropped from my hands, I knelt down before him, and
I, as ye see me, said these words: 'O lord! is it thy pleasure to eat
me? I am only a slave.' But the lion took pity, the wolf also passed
by; even the treacherous bats spared my poor head; but thou, O
Egyptian.
The man stopped; he saw the retinue of Herhor approaching. By the
fan he knew him to be a great personage, and by the panther skin, a
priest. He ran to the litter, therefore, knelt down, and struck the
sand with his forehead.
What dost Thou wish, man? asked the dignitary.
O light of the sun, listen to me! cried the slave. May there be
no groans in thy chamber, may no misfortune follow thee! May thy works
continue, and may the current not be interrupted when Thou shalt sail
by the Nile to the other shore.
I ask what thy wish is, repeated Herhor.
Kind lord, said the man, leader without caprice, who conquerest
the false and createst the true, who art the father of the poor, the
husband of the widow, clothing for the motherless, permit me to spread
thy name as the equal of justice, most noble of the nobles. [Authentic
speech of a slave.]
He wishes that this canal be not filled in, said Eunana.
Herhor shrugged his shoulders and pushed toward the place where they
were filling the canal. Then the despairing man seized his feet.
Away with this creature! cried his worthiness, pushing back as
before the bite of a reptile.
The secretary, Pentuer, turned his head; his lean face had a grayish
color. Eunana seized the man by the shoulders and pulled, but, unable
to drag him away from the minister's feet, he summoned warriors. After
a while Herhor, now liberated, passed to the other bank of the canal,
and the warriors tore away the earth-worker, almost carrying him to the
end of the detachment. There they gave the man some tens of blows of
fists, and subalterns who always carried canes gave him some tens of
blows of sticks, and at last threw him down at the entrance to the
ravine.
Beaten, bloody, and above all terrified, the wretched slave sat on
the sand for a while, rubbed his eyes, then sprang up suddenly and ran
groaning toward the highway,
Swallow me, O earth! Cursed be the day in which I saw the light,
and the night in which it was said, 'A man is born!' In the mantle of
justice there is not the smallest shred for a slave. The gods
themselves regard not a creature whose hands are for labor, whose mouth
was made only for weeping, and whose back is for clubs. O death, rub my
body into ashes, so that there, beyond on the fields of Osiris, I be
not born into slavery a second time.
CHAPTER III
Panting with anger, Prince Ramses rushed up the hill, while behind
him followed Tutmosis. The wig of the exquisite had turned on his head,
his false beard had slipped down, and he carried it in his hand. In
spite of exertion he would have been pale had it not been for the
layers of rouge on his face.
At last Ramses halted at the summit. From the ravine came the outcry
of warriors and the rattle of the onrolling balistas; before the two
men stretched the immense plain of Goshen, bathed continually in
sun-rays. That did not seem land, but a golden cloud, on which the mind
painted a landscape in colors of silver, ruby, pearl, and topaz.
Look, cried the heir to Tutmosis, stretching out his hand, those
are to be my lands, and here is my army. Over there the loftiest
edifices are palaces of priests, and here the supreme chief of the
troops is a priest! Can anything like this be suffered?
It has always been so, replied Tutmosis, glancing around with
timidity.
That is not true! I know the history of this country, which is
hidden to thee. The leaders of armies and the masters of officials were
the pharaohs alone, or at least the most energetic among them. Those
rulers did not pass their days in making offerings and prayers, but in
managing the state.
If it is the desire of his holiness to pass his days that way?
said Tutmosis.
It is not my father's wish that nomarchs should govern as they
please in the capitals of provinces. Why, the governor of Ethiopia
considered himself as almost equal to the king of kings. And it cannot
be my father's wish that his army should inarch around two golden
beetles because the minister of war is a high priest.
He is a great warrior, whispered Tutmosis, with increasing
timidity.
He a great warrior? Because he dispersed a handful of Libyan
robbers ready to flee at the mere sight of Egyptians. But see what our
neighbors are doing. Israel delays in paying tribute and pays less and
less of it. The cunning Phoenician steals a number of ships from our
fleet every year. On the east we are forced to keep up a great army
against the Hittites, while around Babylon and Nineveh there is such a
movement that it is felt throughout all Mesopotamia.
And what is the outcome of priestly management? This, that while my
great-grandfather had a hundred thousand talents of yearly income and
one hundred and sixty thousand troops, my father has barely fifty
thousand talents and one hundred and twenty thousand troops.
And what an army! Were it not for the Greek corps, which keeps them
in order as a dog watches sheep, the Egyptian soldiers today would obey
only priests and the pharaoh would sink to the level of a miserable
nomarch.
Whence hast Thou learned this? asked Tutmosis, with astonishment.
Am I not of a priestly family? And besides, they taught me when I
was not heir to the throne. Oh, when I become pharaoh after my father,
may he live through eternity! I will put my bronze-sandaled foot on
their necks. But first of all I will seize their treasures, which have
always been bloated, but which from the time of Ramses the Great have
begun to swell out, and today are so swollen that the treasure of the
pharaoh is invisible because of them.
Woe to me and to thee! sighed Tutmosis. Thou hast plans under
which this hill would bend could it hear and understand them. And where
are thy forces, thy assistance, thy warriors? Against thee the whole
people will rise, led by a class of men with mighty influence. But who
is on thy rider?
Ramses listened and fell to thinking. At last he said,
The army.
A considerable part of it will follow the priests.
The Greek corps.
A barrel of water in the Nile.
The officials.
Half of them belong to the priests.
The prince shook his head sadly, and was silent.
From the summit they went down by a naked and stony slope to the
opposite base of the hill. Then Tutmosis, who had pushed ahead
somewhat, cried,
Has a charm fallen on my eyes? Look, Ramses! Why, a second Egypt is
concealed between these cliffs!
That must be an estate of some priest who pays no taxes, replied
the prince, bitterly.
In the depth before their feet lay a rich valley in the form of a
fork the tines of which were hidden between cliffs. At the juncture of
the tines a number of servants' huts were visible, and the beautiful
little villa of the owner or manager. Palmtrees grew there, grapes,
olives, figs with aerial roots, cypresses, even young baobabs. In the
centre flowed a rivulet, and at the source of it, some hundreds of
yards higher up, small gardens were visible.
When they had gone down among grapevines covered with ripe clusters,
they heard a woman's voice which called, or rather sang in pensive
notes:
Where art Thou gone from me, where art thou, hen of mine? Thou hast
fled, Thou art gone from me. I give thee drink and clean grain; what I
give is so good that slaves envy thee. Where art Thou gone, my hen wilt
Thou not answer me? Night will come down on thee, think of that; Thou
wilt not reach thy home, where all are at work for thee. Come; if Thou
come not, a falcon will fly from the desert and tear the heart out of
thee. If he come Thou wilt call in vain, as I now call in vain to thee.
Give answer, or I shall be angry and leave this place. If I leave Thou
'It go home on thy own feet.
The song came toward the two men. The songstress was a few yards
from them when Tutmosis thrust, his head from between the bushes, and
said,
Just look, Ramses, but that is a beautiful maiden!
Instead of looking, the prince sprang into the path and stopped the
road before the songstress. She was really a beautiful maiden, with
Grecian features and a complexion like ivory.
From under the veil on her head peeped forth an immense mass of dark
hair, wound in a knot. She wore a white trailing robe which she held on
one side with her hand; under the transparent covering were maiden
breasts shaped like apples.
Who art thou? cried Ramses.
The threatening furrows vanished from his forehead and his eyes
flashed.
O Jehovah! O Father! cried she, frightened, halting motionless on
the path.
But she grew calm by degrees, and her velvety eyes resumed their
expression of mild sadness.
Whence hast Thou come? inquired she of Ramses, with a voice
trembling a little. I see that Thou art a soldier, but it is not
permitted soldiers to come here.
Why is it not permitted?
Because this is the land of a great lord named Sesofris.
Ho! ho! laughed Ramses.
Laugh not, for Thou wilt grow pale soon. The lord Sesofris is
secretary to the lord Chaires, who carries his fan for the most worthy
nomarch of Memphis. My father has seen him and fallen on his face
before him.
Ho! ho! ho! repeated Ramses, laughing continually.
Thy words are very insolent, said the maiden, frowning. Were
kindness not looking from thy face, I should think thee a mercenary
from Greece or a bandit.
He is not a bandit yet, but some day he may become the greatest
bandit this laud has ever suffered, said Tutmosis the exquisite,
arranging his wig,
And Thou must be a dancer, answered the girl, grown courageous.
Oh! I am even certain that I saw thee at the fair in Pi-Bailos,
enchanting serpents.
The two young men fell into perfect humor.
But who art thou? asked Ramses of the girl, taking her hand, which
she drew back.
Be not so bold. I am Sarah, the daughter of Gideon, the manager of
this estate.
A Jewess, said Ramses; and a shadow passed over his face.
What harm in that? what harm in that? cried Tutmosis.
Dost think that Jewesses are less sweet than Egyptian girls? They
are only more modest and more difficult, which gives their love an
uncommon charm.
So ye are pagans, said Sarah, with dignity. Rest, if ye are
tired, pluck some grapes for yourselves, and go with God. Our servants
are not glad to see guests like you.
She wished to go, but Ramses detained her.
Stop! Thou hast pleased me, and may not leave us in this way.
The evil spirit has seized thee; no one in this valley would dare
to speak thus to me, said Sarah, now indignant.
Yes; for, seest thou, interrupted Tutmosis, this young man is an
officer of the priestly regiment of Ptah, and a secretary of the
secretary of a lord who carries his fan over the fan-carrier of the
nomarch of Habu.
Surely he must be an officer, answered Sarah, looking with
thoughtfulness at Ramses. Maybe he is a great lord himself? added
she, putting her finger on her lips.
Whoever I am, thy beauty surpasses my dignity, answered he,
suddenly. But tell me, is it true that the Jews eat pork?
Sarah looked at him offended; and Tutmosis added,
How evident it is that Thou knowest not Jewesses! I tell thee that
a Jew would rather die than eat pork, which, for my part, I do not
consider as the worst.
But do they eat cats? insisted Ramses, pressing Sarah's hand and
looking into her eyes.
And that is a fable, a vile fable! exclaimed Tutmosis. Thou
mightst have asked me about those things instead of talking nonsense. I
have had three Jewish mistresses.
So far Thou hast told the truth, but now Thou art lying, called
out Sarah. A Jewess would not be any man's mistress, added she,
proudly.
Even the mistress of the secretary of a lord who carries the fan
for the nomarch of Memphis? asked Tutmosis, jeeringly.
Even.
Even the mistress of the lord who carries the fan?
Sarah hesitated, but answered,
Even.
Then perhaps she would not become the mistress of the nomarch?
The girl's hands dropped. With astonishment she looked in turn at
the young men; her lips quivered, and her eyes filled with tears.
Who are ye? inquired she, alarmed. Ye have come down from the
hills, like travelers who wish bread and water, but ye speak to me as
might the greatest lords. Who are ye? Thy sword, said she, turning to
Ramses, is set with emeralds, and on thy neck is a chain of such work
as even our lord, the great Sesofris, has not in his treasury.
Better tell me if I please thee, insisted Ramses, pressing her
hand and looking into her eyes tenderly.
Thou art beautiful, as beautiful as the angel Gabriel; but I fear
thee, for I know not who Thou art.
Then from beyond the hilltop was heard the sound of a trumpet.
They are calling thee! cried Tutmosis.
And if I were as great a lord as thy Sesofris? asked Ramses.
Then maybe answered Sarah.
And if I carried the fan of the nomarch of Memphis?
Thou mayest be even as great as that.
Somewhere beyond the hill was heard the second trumpet.
Come, Ramses! insisted the frightened Tutmosis.
But if I were heir to the throne, wouldst Thou come to me? cried
the prince.
O Jehovah! exclaimed Sarah, dropping on her knees.
From various points trumpets summoned, now urgently.
Let us run! cried Tutmosis, in desperation. Dost Thou not hear
the alarm in the camp?
Ramses took the chain from his neck quickly and threw it on Sarah.
Give this to thy father. I will buy thee from him. Be in health.
He kissed her lips passionately, and she embraced-his knees. He tore
away, ran a couple of paces, turned again, and again fondled her
beautiful face and dark hair with kisses, as if he heard not those
impatient calls to the army.
In the name of his holiness the pharaoh, I summon thee, follow me!
cried Tutmosis; and he seized the prince's hand.
They ran toward the trumpet-calls. Ramses tottered at moments like a
drunken man, and turned his head. At last they were climbing the
opposite hill.
And this man, thought Tutmosis, wants to battle with the
priesthood!
CHAPTER IV
RAMSES and his comrade ran about a quarter of an hour along the
rocky ridge of the hill, drawing ever nearer to the trumpets, which
sounded more and more urgently. At last they reached a point where they
took in at a glance the whole region. Toward the left stretched the
highway; beyond that were seen clearly the city of Pi-Bailos, the
regiments of the heir drawn up behind it, and an immense cloud of dust
which rose above his opponent hastening forward from the east.
On the right yawned a broad ravine, along the middle of which the
Greek regiment was dragging military engines. Not far from the road the
ravine was lost in another and a broader one which began in the depth
of the desert.
At this point something uncommon was happening. The Greeks stood
unoccupied not far from the junction of the two ravines; but at the
juncture itself, and between the highway and the staff of Ramses,
marched out four dense lines of some other army, like four fences,
bristling with glittering darts.
In spite of the steep road the prince rushed down at full speed to
his division, to the place where the minister of war stood surrounded
by officers.
What is happening? called he, threateningly. Why sound an alarm
instead of marching?
We are cut off, said Herhor.
By whom?
Our division by three regiments of Nitager, who has marched out of
the desert.
Then the enemy is there, near the highway?
Yes, the invincible Nitager himself.
It seemed in that moment that the heir to the throne had gone mad.
His lips were contorted, his eyes were starting out of their sockets.
He drew his sword, rushed to the Greeks, and cried,
Follow me against those who bar the road to us.
O heir, live forever! cried Patrokles, who drew his sword also.
Forward, descendants of Achilles! said he, turning to his men. We
will teach those Egyptian cowkeepers not to stop us!
Trumpets sounded the attack. Four short but erect Greek columns
rushed forward, a cloud of dust rose, and a shout in honor of Ramses.
After a couple of minutes the Greeks found themselves in the
presence of the Egyptian regiments, and hesitated.
Forward! cried the heir, rushing on, sword in hand.
The Greeks lowered their spears. On the opposing side there was a
movement, a murmur flew along the ranks, and spears also were lowered.
Who are ye, madmen? asked a mighty voice.
The heir to the throne! shouted Patrokles.
A moment of silence.
Open ranks! commanded the same voice, mighty as before.
The regiments of the eastern army opened slowly, like heavy folding-doors, and the Greek division passed between them.
Then a gray-haired warrior in golden helmet and armor approached
Prince Ramses and said with a low obeisance,
Erpatr, [Heir] Thou hast conquered. Only a great warrior could free
himself from difficulty in that way.
Thou art Nitager, the bravest of the brave! cried the prince.
At that moment Herhor approached. He had heard the conversation, and
said abruptly,
Had there been on your side such an awkward leader as the erpatr,
how could we have finished the maneuvers?
Let the young warrior alone! answered Nitager. Is it not enough
for thee that he has shown the iron claws, as was proper for a son of
the pharaoh?
Tutmosis, noting the turn which the conversation had taken, asked
Nitager,
Whence hast Thou come, that thy main forces are in front of our
army?
I knew how incompetently the division was marching from Memphis,
when the heir was concentrating his regiments near Pi-Bailos, and for
sport I wished to capture you young lords. To my misfortune the heir
was here and spoiled my plans. Act that way always, Ramses, of course
in presence of real enemies.
But if, as today, he meets a force three times superior? inquired
Herhor.
Daring keenness means more than strength, replied the old leader.
An elephant is fifty times stronger than a man; still he yields to
him, or dies at his hands.
Herhor listened in silence.
The maneuvers were declared finished. Prince Ramses with the
minister and commanders went to the army near Pi-Bailos. There he
greeted Nitager's veterans, took farewell of his own regiments,
commanded them to march eastward, and wished success to them.
Then, surrounded by a great suite, he returned by the highway to
Memphis amid crowds from the land of Goshen, who with green garlands
and in holiday robes congratulated the conqueror.
When the highway turned toward the desert, the crowd became thinner,
and when they approached the place where the staff of the heir had
entered the ravine because of the scarabs, there was no one.
Ramses nodded to Tutmosis, and pointing to the naked hill,
whispered,
Thou wilt go to Sarah.
I understand.
Tell her father that I will give him land outside Memphis.
I understand. Thou wilt have her to-morrow.
After this conversation Tutmosis withdrew to the troops marching
behind the suite, and vanished.
Almost opposite the ravine along which the army had passed in the
morning, some tens of steps from the road, stood a tamarind-tree which,
though old, was not large. At this point a halt was mad by the guard
which had preceded the suite.
Shall we meet scarabs again? asked Ramses, with a laugh.
We shall see, answered Herhor.
They looked; on the slender tree a naked man was hanging.
What does this mean? asked the heir, with emotion.
Adjutants ran to the tree, and saw that the hanging man was that old
slave whose canal they had closed in the morning.
He did right to hang himself! cried Eunana among the officers.
Could ye believe it, that wretch dared to seize the feet of his
holiness the minister!
On hearing this, Ramses reined in his horse, dismounted, and walked
up to the ominous tree.
The slave was hanging with his head stretched forward; his mouth was
opened widely, his hands turned toward the spectators, and terror was
in his eyes. He looked like a man who had wished to say something, but
whose voice had failed him.
The unfortunate! sighed Ramses, with compassion.
On returning to the retinue he gave command to relate to him the
history of the man, and then he rode a long time in silence.
Before his eyes was the picture of the suicide, and in his heart was
the feeling that a great wrong had been done, such a wrong that even
he, the son and the heir of the pharaoh, might halt in face of it.
The heat was unendurable, the dust dried up the water and pierced
the eyes of man and beast. The division was detained for a short rest,
and meanwhile Nitager finished his conversation with the minister.
My officers, said the old commander, never look under their feet,
but always straight forward.
That is the reason, perhaps, why no enemy has ever surprised me.
Your worthiness reminds me, by these words, that I am to pay
certain debts, remarked Herhor; and he commanded the officers and
soldiers who were near by to assemble.
And now, said the minister, summon for me Eunana.
The officer covered with amulets was found as quickly as if he had
been waiting for this summons a long time. On his countenance was
depicted delight, which he restrained through humility, but with
effort.
Herhor, seeing Eunana before him, began,
By the will of his holiness, supreme command of the army comes into
my hands again with the ending of the maneuvers.
Those present bowed their heads.
It is my duty to use this power first of all in meting out
justice.
The officers looked at one another.
Eunana, said the minister, I know that Thou hast always been one
of the most diligent officers.
Truth speaks through thy lips, worthy lord, replied Eunana. As a
palm waits for dew, so do I for the commands of superiors. And when I
do not receive them, I am like an orphan in the desert when looking for
a pathway.
Nitager's scar-covered officers listened with astonishment to the
ready speech of Eunana, and thought, He will be raised above others!
Eunana, said the minister, Thou art not only diligent, but pious;
not only pious, but watchful as an ibis over water. The gods have
poured out on thee every virtue: they have given thee serpent cunning,
with the eye of a falcon.
Pure truth flows from thy lips, worthiness, added Eunana. Were it
not for my wonderful sight, I should not have seen the two scarabs.
Yes, and Thou wouldst not have saved our camp from sacrilege. For
this deed, worthy of the most pious Egyptian, I give thee.
Here the minister took a gold ring from his finger.
I give thee this ring with the name of the goddess Mut, whose favor
and prudence will accompany thee to the end of thy worldly wandering,
if Thou deserve it.
His worthiness delivered the ring to Eunana, and those present
uttered a great shout in honor of the pharaoh, and rattled their
weapons.
As Herhor did not move, Eunana stood and looked him in the eyes,
like a faithful dog which having received one morsel from his master is
wagging his tail and waiting.
And now, continued the minister, confess, Eunana, why Thou didst
not tell whither the heir to the throne went when the army was marching
along the ravine with such difficulty. Thou didst an evil deed, for we
had to sound the alarm in the neighborhood of the enemy.
The gods are my witnesses that I know nothing of the most worthy
prince, replied the astonished Eunana.
Herhor shook his head.
It cannot be that a man gifted with such sight, a man who at some
tens of yards away sees sacred scarabs in the sand, should not see so
great a personage as the heir to the throne is.
Indeed I did not see him! explained Eunana, beating his breast.
Moreover no one commanded me to watch Ramses.
Did I not free thee from leading the vanguard? Did I assign to thee
an office? asked the minister. Thou wert entirely free, just like a
man who is called to important deeds. And didst Thou accomplish thy
task? For such an error in time of war Thou shouldst suffer death
surely.
The ill-fated officer was pallid.
But I have a paternal heart for thee, Eunana, said Herhor, and,
remembering the great service which Thou hast rendered by discovering
the scarabs, I, not as a stern minister, but as a mild priest, appoint
to thee a very small punishment. Thou wilt receive fifty blows of a
stick on thy body.
Worthiness!
Eunana, Thou hast known how to be fortunate, now be manful and
receive this slight remembrance as becomes an officer in the army of
his holiness.
Barely had the worthy Herhor finished when the officers oldest in
rank placed Eunana in a commodious position at the side of the
highroad. After that one of them sat on his neck, another on his feet,
while a third and a fourth counted out fifty blows of pliant reeds on
his naked body.
The unterrified warrior uttered no groan; on the contrary, he hummed
a soldier song, and at the end of the ceremony wished to rise. But his
stiffened legs refused obedience, so he fell face downward on the sand;
they had to take him to Memphis on a two-wheeled vehicle. While lying
on this cart and smiling at the soldiers, Eunana considered that the
wind does not change so quickly in Lower Egypt as fortune in the life
of an inferior officer.
When, after the brief halt, the retinue of the heir to the throne
moved on its farther journey, Herhor mounted his horse and riding at
the side of Nitager, spoke in an undertone about Asiatic nations and,
above all, about the awakening of Assyria.
Then two servants of the minister, the adjutant carrying his fan and
the secretary Pentuer, began a conversation also.
What dost Thou think of Eunana's adventure? asked the adjutant.
And what thinkest Thou of the slave who hanged himself?
It seems to me that this was his best day, and the rope around his
neck the softest thing that has touched him in life. I think, too, that
Eunana from this time on will watch the heir to the throne very
closely.
Thou art mistaken, answered Pentuer. Eunana from this time on
will never see a scarab, even though it were as large as a bullock. As
to that slave, dost Thou not think that in every case it must have been
very evil for him very evil in this sacred land of Egypt?
Thou knowest not slaves, hence speakest thus.
But who knows them better? asked Pentuer, gloomily. Have I not
grown up among them? Have I not seen my father watering land, clearing
canals, sowing, harvesting, and, above all, paying tribute? Oh, Thou
knowest not the lot of slaves in Egypt.
But if I do not, I know the lot of the foreigner. My
great-grandfather or great-great-grandfather was famous among the
Hyksos, but he remained here, for he grew attached to this country. And
what wilt Thou say? Not only was his property taken from him, but the
stain of my origin rests on me at present. Thou thyself knowest what I
bear frequently from Egyptians by race, though I have a considerable
position. How, then, can I take pity on the Egyptian earth-worker, who,
seeing my yellow complexion, mutters frequently, 'Pagan! foreigner!'
The earth-worker is neither a pagan nor a foreigner.
Only a slave, added Pentuer, a slave whom they marry, divorce,
beat, sell, slay sometimes, and command always to work, with a promise
besides that in the world to come he will be a slave also.
Thou art a strange man, though so wise! said the adjutant,
shrugging his shoulders. Dost Thou not see that each man of us
occupies some position, low, less low, or very low, in which he must
labor? But dost Thou suffer because Thou art not pharaoh, and thy tomb
will not be a pyramid? Thou dost not ponder at all over this, for Thou
knowest it to be the world's condition. Each creature does its own
duty: the ox ploughs, the ass bears the traveler, I cool his
worthiness, Thou rememberest and thinkest for him, while the
earth-worker tills land and pays tribute. What is it to us that some
bull is born Apis, to whom all render homage, and some man a pharaoh or
a nomarch?
The ten years' toil of that man was destroyed, whispered Pentuer.
And does not the minister destroy thy toil? asked the adjutant.
Who knows that Thou art the manager of the state, not the worthy
Herhor?
Thou art mistaken. He manages really. He has power and will; I have
only knowledge. Moreover, they do not beat thee, nor me, like that
slave.
But they have beaten Eunana, and they may beat us also. Hence there
is need to be brave and make use of the position assigned us; all the
more since, as is known to thee, our spirit, the immortal Ka, in
proportion as it is purified rises to a higher plane, so that after
thousands or millions of years, in company with spirits of pharaohs and
slaves, in company with gods even, it will be merged into the nameless
and all- mighty father of existence.
Thou speakest like a priest, answered Pentuer, with bitterness. I
ought rather to have this calm! But instead of it I have pain in my
soul, for I feel the wretchedness of millions.
Who tells it to thee?
My eyes and my heart. My heart is like a valley between mountains
which never can be silent, when it hears a cry, but must answer with an
echo.
I say to thee, Pentuer, that Thou thinkest too much over dangerous
subjects. It is impossible to walk safely along precipices of the
eastern mountains, for Thou mayst fall at any moment; or to wander
through the western desert, where hungry lions are prowling, and where
the raging simoom springs up unexpectedly.
Meanwhile the valiant Eunana moved on in the vehicle, which only
added to his pain. But to show that he was valiant he requested food
and drink; and when he had eaten a dry cake rubbed with garlic and had
drunk some beer from a thick-bellied pot, he begged the driver to take
a branch and drive the flies from his wounded body.
Thus lying on the bags and packs in that squeaking car, with his
face toward the earth, the unfortunate Eunana sang with a groaning
voice the grievous lot of the inferior officer,
Why dost Thou say that the scribe's lot is worse than the
officer's? Come and see my blue stripes and swollen body; meanwhile I
will tell thee the tale of a downtrodden officer.
I was a boy when they brought me to the barracks. For breakfast I
had blows of fists in the belly, till I fainted; for dinner fists in
the eyes, till my mouth gaped; and for supper I had a head covered with
wounds and almost split open.
Goon! let me tell how I made the campaign to Syria. Food and drink
I had to carry on my back, I was bent down with weight as an ass is
bent. My neck became stiff, like an ass's neck, and the joints of my
back swelled. I drank rotten water, I was like a captive bird in the
face of the enemy.
I returned to Egypt, but here I am like a tree into which a worm is
boring always. For any trifle they put me on the ground and beat me
till I am breaking. I am sick and must lie at full length; they carry
me in a car, meanwhile serving men steal my mantle and escape with it.
So change thy mind, O scribe, about the happiness of officers.
[Authentic]
Thus sang the brave Eunana; and his tearful song has outlived the
Egyptian kingdom.
CHAPTER V
AS the suite of the heir approached Memphis, the sun was near its
setting, while from countless canals and the distant sea came a wind
filled with cool moisture. The road descended again to the fertile
region, where on fields and among bushes continuous ranks of people
were working, a rosy gleam was falling on the desert, and the mountain
summits were in a blaze of sunlight.
Ramses halted and turned his horse. His suite surrounded him
quickly, the higher officers approached with some leisure, while the
marching regiments drew nearer slowly and with even tread. In the
purple rays of the setting sun, the prince had the seeming of a
divinity, the soldiers gazed at him with affection and pride, the
chiefs looked admiringly.
He raised his hand. All were silent.
Worthy leaders, began he, brave officers, obedient soldiers!
Today the gods have given me the pleasure of commanding you. Delight
has filled my heart. And since it is my will that leaders, officers,
and soldiers should share my happiness at all times, I assign one
drachma to each soldier of those who have gone to the east, and to
those who return with us from the eastern boundary; also one drachma
each to the Greek soldiers who today, under my command, opened a
passage out of the ravine; and one drachma to each man in the regiments
of the worthy Nitager who wished to cut off the way to us.
There was a shout in the army.
Be well, our leader! Be well, successor of the pharaoh, may he live
eternally! cried the soldiers; and the Greeks cried the loudest.
The prince continued,
I assign five talents to be divided among the lower officers of my
army and that of the worthy Nitager. And finally I assign ten talents
to be divided between his worthiness the minister and the chief
leaders.
I yield ray part for the benefit of the army, answered Herhor.
Be well, O heir! be well, O minister! cried the officers and the
soldiers.
The ruddy circle of the sun had touched the sands of the western
desert. Ramses took farewell of the army and galloped towards Memphis;
but his worthiness Herhor, amid joyous shouts, took a seat in his
litter and commanded also to go in advance of the marching divisions.
When they had gone so far that single voices were merged into one
immense murmur, like the sound of a cataract, the minister, bending
toward the secretary, asked of him,
Dost Thou remember everything?
Yes, worthy lord.
Thy memory is like granite on which we write history, and thy
wisdom like the Nile, which covers all the country and enriches it,
said Herhor. Besides, the gods have granted thee the greatest of
virtues, wise obedience.
The secretary was silent.
Hence Thou mayest estimate more accurately than others the acts and
reasons of the heir, may he live through eternity!
The minister stopped awhile, and then added,
It has not been his custom to speak so much. Tell me then, Pentuer,
and record this: Is it proper that the heir to the throne should
express his will before the army? Only a pharaoh may act thus, or a
traitor, or a frivolous stripling, who with the same heedlessness will
do hasty deeds or belch forth words of blasphemy.
The sun went down, and soon after a starry night appeared. Above the
countless canals of Lower Egypt a silvery mist began to thicken, a mist
which, borne to the desert by a gentle wind, freshened the wearied
warriors, and revived vegetation which had been dying through lack of
moisture.
Or tell me, Pentuer, continued the minister, and inquire: whence
will the heir get his twenty talents to keep the promise which he made
this day to the army with such improvidence? Besides, it seems to me,
and certainly to thee, a dangerous step for an heir to make presents to
the army, especially now, when his holiness has nothing with which to
pay Nitager's regiments returning from the Orient. I do not ask what
thy opinions are, for I know them, as Thou knowest my most secret
thoughts. I only ask thee to the end that Thou remember what Thou hast
seen, so as to tell it to the priests in council.
Will they meet soon? inquired Pentuer.
There is no reason yet to summon them. I shall try first to calm
this wild young bull through the fatherly hand of his holiness. It
would be a pity to lose the boy, for he has much ability and the energy
of a southern whirlwind. But if the whirlwind, instead of blowing away
Egypt's enemies, blows down its wheat and tears up its palm-trees!
The minister stopped conversation, and his retinue vanished in the
dark alley of trees which led to Memphis.
Meanwhile Ramses reached the palace of the pharaoh.
This edifice stood on an elevation in a park outside the city.
Peculiar trees grew there: baobabs from the south; pines, oaks, and
cedars from the north. Thanks to the art of gardeners, these trees
lived some tens of years and reached a considerable height.
The shady alley led to a gate which was as high as a house of three
stories. From each side of the gate rose a solid building like a tower
in the form of a truncated pyramid, forty yards in width with the
height of five stories. In the night they seemed like two immense tents
made of sandstone. These peculiar buildings had on the ground and the
upper stories square windows, and the roofs were flat. From the top of
one of these pyramids without apex, a watch looked at the country; from
the other the priest on duty observed the stars.
At the right and left of these towers, called pylons, extended
walls, or rather long structures of one story, with narrow windows and
flat roofs, on which sentries paced back and forth. On both sides of
the main gate were two sitting statues fifteen feet in height. In front
of these statues moved other sentries.
When the prince, with a number of horsemen, approached the palace,
the sentry knew him in spite of the darkness. Soon an official of the
court ran out of the pylon. He was clothed in a white skirt and dark
mantle, and wore a wig as large as a headdress.
Is the palace closed already? inquired the prince.
Thou art speaking truth, worthy lord, said the official. His
holiness is preparing the god for sleep.
What will he do after that?
He will be pleased to receive the war minister, Herhor.
Well, and later?
Later his holiness will look at the ballet in the great hall, then
he will bathe and recite evening prayers.
Has he not commanded to receive me? inquired Ramses.
Tomorrow morning after the military council.
What are the queens doing?
The first queen is praying in the chamber of her dead son, and thy
worthy mother is receiving the Phoenician ambassador, who has brought
her gifts from the women of Tyre.
Did he bring maidens?
A number of them. Each has on her person treasures to the value of
ten talents.
Who is moving about down there with torches? asked the prince,
pointing to the lower park.
They are taking thy brother, worthiness, from a tree where he has
been sitting since midday.
Is he unwilling to come down?
He will come down now, for the first queen's jester has gone for
him, and has promised to take him to the inn where dissectors are
drinking.
And hast Thou heard anything of the maneuvers of today?
They say that the staff was cut off from the corps.
And what more?
The official hesitated.
Tell what Thou hast heard.
We heard, moreover, that because of this five hundred blows of a
stick were given to a certain officer at thy command, worthiness.
It is all a lie! said one of the adjutants of the heir in an
undertone.
The soldiers, too, say among themselves that it must be a lie,
returned the official, with growing confidence.
Ramses turned his horse and rode to the lower part of the park where
his small palace was situated. It had a ground and an upper story and
was built of wood. Its form was that of an immense hexagon with two
porticos, an upper and a lower one which surrounded the building and
rested on a multitude of pillars. Lamps were burning in the interior;
hence it was possible to see that the walls were formed of planks
perforated like lace, and that these walls were protected from the wind
by curtains of various colors. The roof of the building was flat,
surrounded by a balustrade; on this roof stood a number of tents.
Greeted heartily by half-naked servitors, some of whom ran out with
torches, while others prostrated themselves before him, the heir
entered his residence. On the ground floor he removed his dusty dress,
bathed in a stone basin, and put on a kind of great sheet which he
fastened at the neck and bound round his waist with a cord for a
girdle. On the first floor he ate a supper consisting of a wheaten
cake, dates, and a glass of light beer. Then he went to the terrace of
the building, and lying on a couch covered with a lion skin, commanded
the servants to withdraw and to bring up Tutmosis the moment he
appeared there.
About midnight a litter stopped before the residence, and out of it
stepped the adjutant. When he walked along the terrace heavily yawning
as he went, the prince sprang up from the couch and cried,
Art Thou here? Well, what?
Then art Thou not sleeping yet? replied Tutmosis. O gods, after
so many days of torture! I think that I should sleep until sunrise.
What of Sarah?
She will be here the day after to-morrow, or Thou wilt be with her
in the house beyond the river.
Only after to-morrow!
Only? I beg thee, Ramses, to sleep. Thou hast taken too much bad
blood to thy heart, fire will strike to thy head.
What about her father?
He is honorable and wise. They call him Gideon. When I told him
that Thou hadst the wish to take his daughter, he fell on the ground
and tore his hair. Of course I waited till this outburst of fatherly
suffering was over; I ate a little, drank some wine, and at last
proceeded to bargaining. The weeping Gideon swore first of all that he
would rather see his daughter dead than the mistress of any man. Then I
told him that near Memphis, on the Nile, he would receive land which
gives two talents of yearly income and pays no taxes. He was indignant.
Then I stated that he might receive another talent yearly in gold and
silver. He sighed and declared that his daughter had spent three years
at school in Pi-Bailos; I added another talent. Then Gideon, still
disconsolate, remembered that he would lose his very good position of
manager for the lord Sesofris. I told him that he need not lose that
place, and added ten milch cows from thy stables. His forehead cleared
somewhat; then he confessed to me, as a profound secret, that a certain
very great lord, Chaires, who bears the fan of the nomarch of Memphis,
was turning attention toward Sarah. I promised then to add a young
bull, a medium chain of gold, and a large bracelet. In this way thy
Sarah will cost thee land, two talents yearly in money, ten cows, a
young bull, a chain and a gold bracelet, immediately. These Thou wilt
give to her father, the honest Gideon; to her Thou wilt give whatever
pleases thee.
What did Sarah say to this?
While we were bargaining she walked among the trees. When we had
finished the matter and settled it by drinking good Hebrew wine, she
told her father dost Thou know what? that if he had not given her to
thee, she would have gone up the cliff and thrown herself down head
foremost. Now Thou mayst sleep quietly, I think, ended Tutmosis.
I doubt it, answered Ramses, leaning on the balustrade and looking
into the emptiest side of the park. Dost Thou know that on the way
back we found a man hanging from a tree?
Oh! that is worse than the scarabs!
He hanged himself from despair because the warriors filled the
canal which he had been digging for ten years in the desert.
Well, that man is sleeping now quietly. So it is time for us.
That man was wronged, said the prince. I must find his children,
ransom them, and rent a bit of laud to them.
But Thou must do this with great secrecy, remarked Tutmosis, or
all slaves will begin to hang themselves, and no Phoenician will lend
us, their lords, a copper uten.
Jest not. Hadst Thou seen that man's face, sleep would be absent
to- night from thy eyes as it is from mine.
Meanwhile from below, among the bushes, was heard a voice, not over
powerful, but clear,
May the One, the All-Powerful, bless thee, Ramses, He who has no
name in human speech, or statue in a temple.
Both young men bent forward in astonishment.
Who art thou? called out the prince.
I am the injured people of Egypt, replied the voice, slowly and
with calmness.
Then all was silent. No motion, no rustle of branches betrayed human
presence in that place.
At command of Ramses servants rushed out with torches, the dogs were
unchained, and every bush around the house was searched. But they found
no one.
Who could that have been, Tutmosis? asked the prince, with
emotion. Perhaps it was the ghost of that slave who hanged himself?
I have never heard ghosts talking, though I have been on guard at
temples and tombs more than once. I should think, rather, that he who
has just called to us is some friend of thine.
Why should he hide?
But what harm is that to thee? Each one of us has tens, if not
hundreds, of invisible enemies. Thank the gods, then, that Thou hast
even one invisible friend.
I shall not sleep to-night, whispered the excited prince.
Be calm. Instead of running along the terrace listen to me and lie
down. Thou wilt see Sleep that is a deliberate divinity, and it does
not befit him to chase after those who run with the pace of a deer. If
Thou wilt lie down on a comfortable couch, Sleep, who loves comfort,
will sit near thee and cover thee with his great mantle, which covers
not only men's eyes, but their memories.
Thus speaking, Tutmosis placed Ramses on a couch; then he brought an
ivory pillow shaped like a crescent, and arranging the prince, placed
his head on this pillow.
Then he let down the canvas walls of the tent, laid himself on the
floor, and both were asleep in some minutes.
CHAPTER VI
THE entrance to the pharaoh's palace at Memphis was through a gate
placed between two lofty towers or pylons. The external walls of these
buildings were of gray sandstone covered from foundation to summit with
bas reliefs.
At the top of the gate rose the arms of the state, or its symbol: a
winged globe, from behind which appeared two serpents. Lower down sat a
series of gods to which the pharaohs were bringing offerings. On side
pillars images of the gods were cut out also in five rows, one above
the other, while below were hieroglyphic inscriptions.
On the walls of each pylon the chief place was occupied by a flat
sculpture of Ramses the Great, who held in one hand an uplifted axe and
grasped in the other, by the hair of the head, a crowd of people tied
in a bundle, like parsley. Above the king stood or sat two rows of
gods; still higher, a line of people with offerings; at the very summit
of the pylons were winged serpents intertwined with scarabs.
Those pylons with walls narrowing toward the top, the gate which
connected them, the flat sculptures in which order was mingled with
gloomy fantasy and piety with cruelty, produced a tremendous
impression. It seemed difficult to enter that place, impossible to go
out, and a burden to live there.
From the gate, before which stood troops and a throng of small
officials, those who entered came into a court surrounded by porticos
resting on pillars. That was an ornamental garden, in which were
cultivated aloes, palms, pomegranates, and cedars in pots, all placed
in rows and selected according to size. In the middle shot up a
fountain; the paths were sprinkled with colored sand.
Under the gallery sat or walked higher officials of the state,
speaking in low tones.
From the court, through a high door, the visitor passed to a hall of
twelve lofty columns. The hall was large, but as the columns also were
large, the hall seemed diminutive. It was lighted by small windows in
the walls and through a rectangular opening in the roof. Coolness and
shade prevailed there; the shade was almost a gloom, which did not,
however, prevent him who entered from seeing the yellow walls and
pillars, covered with lines of paintings. At the top leaves and flowers
were represented; lower down, the gods; still lower, people who carried
their statues or brought them offerings; and between these groups were
lines of hieroglyphs.
All this was painted in clear, almost glaring colors, green, red,
and blue.
In this hall, with its varied mosaic pavement, stood in silence,
white robed and barefoot, the priests, the highest dignitaries of
State, Herhor, the minister of war, also the leaders Nitager and
Patrokles, who had been summoned to the presence of the pharaoh.
His holiness Ramses XII, as usual before he held council, was
placing offerings before the gods in his chapel. This continued rather
long. Every moment some priest or official ran in from the more distant
chambers and communicated news touching the course of the service.
The lord has broken the seal to the chapel He is washing the sacred
divinity Now he is putting it away Now he has closed the door.
On the faces of courtiers, notwithstanding their offices, concern
and humility were evident. But Herhor was indifferent, Patrokles
impatient, and Nitager now and then disturbed with his deep voice the
solemn silence. After every such impolite sound from the old leader,
the courtiers moved, like frightened sheep, and looked at one another,
as if saying,
This rustic has been hunting barbarians all his life, we may pardon
him.
From remoter chambers were heard the sound of bells and the clatter
of weapons. Into the hall came in two ranks some tens of the guard in
gilt helmets, in breastplates, and with drawn swords, next two ranks of
priests, and at last appeared the pharaoh, carried in a litter,
surrounded by clouds of smoke and incense.
The ruler of Egypt, Ramses XII, was nearly sixty years old. His face
was withered. He wore a white mantle; on his head was a red and white
cap with a golden serpent; in his hand he held a long staff.
When the retinue showed itself, all present fell on their faces,
except Patrokles, who, as a barbarian, stopped at a low bow, while
Nitager knelt on one knee, but soon rose again.
The litter stopped before a baldachin under which was an ebony
throne on an elevation. The pharaoh descended slowly from the litter,
looked awhile at those present, and then, taking his seat on the
throne, gazed fixedly at the cornice on which was painted a
rose-colored globe with blue wings and green serpents.
On the right of the pharaoh stood the chief scribe, on the left a
judge with a staff; both wore immense wigs.
At a sign from the judge all sat down or knelt on the pavement,
while the scribe said to the pharaoh,
Our lord and mighty ruler! Thy servant Nitager, the great guard on
the eastern boundary, has come to render thee homage, and has brought
tribute from conquered nations: a vase of green stone filled with gold,
three hundred oxen, a hundred horses, and the fragrant wood teshep.
That is a mean tribute, my lord, said Nitager. Real treasures we
can find only on the Euphrates, where splendid kings, though weak so
far, need much to be reminded of Ramses the Great.
Answer my servant Nitager, said the pharaoh to the scribe, that
his words will be taken under careful consideration. But now ask him
what he thinks of the military ability of my son and heir, whom he had
the honor of meeting near Pi-Bailos yesterday.
Our lord, the master of nine nations, asks thee, Nitager began the
scribe.
But the leader interrupted quickly, to the great dissatisfaction of
the courtiers,
I hear myself what my lord says. Only the heir to the throne could
be his mouth when he turns to me; not thou, chief scribe.
The scribe looked with consternation at the daring leader, but the
pharaoh answered,
My faithful Nitager speaks truth.
The minister of war bowed.
Now the judge announced to all present to the priests, the
officials, and the guards that they might go to the palace courtyard;
and he himself, bowing to the throne, was the first to go thither. In
the hall remained only the pharaoh, Herhor, and the two leaders.
Incline thy ears, O sovereign, and listen to complaints, began
Nitager. This morning the official priest, who came at thy command to
anoint my hair, told me that in going to thee I was to leave my sandals
in the entrance hall. Meanwhile it is known, not only in Upper and
Lower Egypt, but in the Hittite country, Libya, Phoenicia, and the land
of Punt, that twenty years ago Thou didst give me the right to stand
before thee in sandals.
Thou speakest truth, said the pharaoh. Various disorders have
crept into the court ceremonial.
Only give command, O king, and my veterans will produce order
immediately, added Nitager.
At a sign given by the minister of war, a number of officials ran
in: one brought sandals and put them on Nitager's feet; others put down
costly stools for the minister and leaders.
When the three dignitaries were seated, Ramses XII said,
Tell me, Nitager, dost Thou think that my son will be a leader? But
tell pure truth.
By Amon of Thebes, by the glory of my ancestors in whom was blood
royal, I swear that thy heir, Prince Ramses, will be a great leader, if
the gods permit, replied Nitager. He is a young man, a lad yet; still
he concentrated his regiments, eased their march, and provided for
them. He pleased me most of all by this, that he did not lose his head
when I cut off the road before him, but led his men to the attack. He
will be a leader, and will conquer the Assyrians, whom we must vanquish
today if they are not to be seen on the Nile by our grandchildren.
What dost Thou say to that? inquired the pharaoh of Herhor.
As to the Assyrians, I think that the worthy Nitager is concerned
about them too early. We must strengthen ourselves well before we begin
a new war. As to the heir, Nitager says justly that the young man has
the qualities of a leader: he is as keen as a fox, and has the energy
of a lion. Still he made many blunders yesterday.
Who among us has not made them? put in Patrokles, silent thus far.
The heir, continued the minister, led the main corps wisely, but
he neglected his staff; through this neglect we marched so slowly and
in such disorder that Nitager was able to cut off the road before us.
Perhaps Ramses counted on your dignity, said Nitager.
In government and war we must count on no man: one unreckoned
little stone may overturn everything, said the minister.
If thou, worthiness, answered Patrokles, had not pushed the
columns from the road because of those scarabs.
Thou, worthiness, art a foreigner and an unbeliever, retorted
Herhor, hence this speech. But we Egyptians understand that when the
people and the soldiers cease to reverence the scarabs, their sons will
cease to fear the ureus (the serpent). From contempt of the gods is
born revolt against the pharaohs.
But what are axes for? asked Nitager. Whoso wishes to keep a head
on his shoulders let him listen to the supreme commander.
What then is your final opinion of the heir? asked the pharaoh of
Herhor.
Living image of the sun, child of the gods, replied the minister.
Command to anoint Ramses, give him a grand chain and ten talents, but
do not appoint him yet to command the corps in Memphis. The prince is
too young for that office, too passionate and inexperienced. Can we
recognize him as the equal of Patrokles, who has trampled the
Ethiopians and the Libyans in twenty battles? Or can we place him at
the side of Nitager, whose name alone brings pallor to our northern and
eastern enemies?
The pharaoh rested his head on his hand, meditated, and said,
Depart with my favor and in peace. I will do what is indicated by
wisdom and justice.
The dignitaries bowed low, and Ramses XII, without waiting for his
suite, passed to remoter chambers.
When the two leaders found themselves alone in the entrance hall,
Nitager said to Patrokles,
Here priests rule as in their own house. I see that. But what a
leader that Herhor is! He vanquished us before we spoke; he does not
grant a corps to the heir.
He praised me so that I dared not utter a word, said Patrokles.
He is far seeing, and does not tell all he thinks. In the wake of
the heir various young lords who go to war taking singers would have
shoved themselves into the corps, and they would occupy the highest
places. Naturally old officers would fall into idleness from anger,
because promotion had missed them; the exquisites would be idle for the
sake of amusement, and the corps would break up without even meeting an
enemy. Oh, Herhor is a sage!
May his wisdom not cost thee more than the inexperience of Ramses,
whispered Patrokles.
Through a series of chambers filled with columns and adorned with
paintings, where at each door priests and palace officials gave low
obeisances before him, the pharaoh passed to his cabinet. That was a
lofty hall with alabaster walls on which in gold and bright colors were
depicted the most famous events in the reign of Ramses XII, therefore
homage given him by the inhabitants of Mesopotamia, the embassy from
the King of Buchten, and the triumphal journey of the god Khonsu
through the land of that potentate.
In this hall was the malachite statue of the bird-headed Horus,
adorned with gold and jewels. In front of the statue was an altar
shaped as a truncated pyramid, the king's armor, costly armchairs and
stools, also tables covered with trifles and small objects.
When the pharaoh appeared, one of the priests burnt incense before
him, and one of the officials announced Prince Ramses, who soon entered
and bowed low before his father. On the expressive face of the prince
feverish disquiet was evident.
Erpatr, I rejoice, said the pharaoh, that Thou hast returned in
good health from a difficult journey.
Mayst Thou live through eternity, holiness, and thy affairs fill
the two worlds! replied Ramses.
My military advisers have just informed me of thy labor and
prudence.
The heir's face quivered and changed. He fixed great eyes on the
pharaoh and listened.
Thy deeds will not remain without reward. Thou wilt receive ten
talents, a great chain, and two Greek regiments with which Thou wilt
exercise.
Ramses was amazed, but after a while he asked with a stifled voice,
But the corps in Memphis?
In a year we will repeat the maneuvers, and if Thou make no mistake
in leading the army Thou wilt get the corps.
I know that Herhor did this! cried the prince, hardly restraining
his anger.
He looked around, and added, lean never be alone with thee, my
father; strangers are always between us.
The pharaoh moved his brows slightly, and his suite vanished, like a
crowd of shadows.
What hast Thou to tell me?
Only one thing, father. Herhor is my enemy. He accused me to thee
and exposed me to this shame!
In spite of his posture of obedience the prince gnawed his lips and
balled his fists.
Herhor is thy friend and my faithful servant. It was his persuasion
that made thee heir to the throne. But I will not confide a corps to a
youthful leader who lets himself be cut off from his army.
I joined it, answered the crushed heir; but Herhor commanded to
march around two beetles.
Dost Thou wish that a priest should make light of religion in the
presence of the army?
My father, whispered Ramses, with quivering voice, to avoid
spoiling the journey of the beetles a canal was destroyed, and a man
was killed.
That man raised his own hands on himself.
But that was the fault of Herhor.
In the regiments which them didst concentrate near Pi-Bailos thirty
men died from over-exertion, and several hundred are sick.
The prince dropped his head.
Ramses, continued the pharaoh, through thy lips is speaking not a
dignitary of the state who is thinking of the soundness of canals and
the lives of laborers, but an angry person. Anger does not accord with
justice any more than a falcon with a dove.
Oh, my father, burst out the heir, if anger carries me away, it
is because I feel the ill-will of the priests and of Herhor.
But Thou art thyself the grandson of a high priest; the priests
taught thee. Thou hast learned more of their secrets than any other
prince ever has.
I have learned their insatiable pride, and greed of power. And
because I will abridge it they are my enemies. Herhor is not willing to
give me even a corps, for he wishes to manage the whole army.
When he had thrown out these incautious words, the heir was
frightened. But the ruler raised his clear glance, and answered
quietly,
I manage the state and the army. From me flow all commands and
decisions. In this world I am the balance of Osiris, and I myself weigh
the services of my servants, be they the heir, a minister, or the
people. Imprudent would he be who should think that all intrigues are
not known to me.
But, father, if Thou hadst seen with thy own eyes the course of the
maneuvers
I might have seen a leader, interrupted the pharaoh, who in the
decisive moment was chasing through the bushes after an Israelite
maiden. But I do not wish to observe such stupidity.
The prince fell at his father's feet, and whispered,
Did Tutmosis speak to thee of that, lord?
Tutmosis is a child, just as Thou art. He piles up debts as chief
of staff in the corps of Memphis, and thinks in his heart that the eyes
of the pharaoh cannot reach to his deeds in the desert.
CHAPTER VII
Some days later Prince Ramses was summoned before the face of his
most worthy mother, Nikotris, who was the second wife of the pharaoh,
but now the greatest lady in Egypt. The gods were not mistaken when
they called her to be the mother of a pharaoh. She was a tall person,
of rather full habit, and in spite of forty years was still beautiful.
There was in her eyes, face, and whole form such majesty that even when
she went unattended, in the modest garb of a priestess, people bowed
their heads to her.
The worthy lady received Ramses in her cabinet, which was paved with
porcelain tiles. She sat on an inlaid armchair under a palm-tree. At
her feet, on a small stool, lay a little dog; on the other side knelt a
black slave woman with a fan. The pharaoh's wife wore a muslin robe
embroidered with gold, and on her wig a circlet in the form of a lotus,
ornamented with jewels.
When the prince had bowed low, the little dog sniffed him, then lay
down again; while the lady, nodding her head, made inquiry, For what
reason, O Ramses, hast Thou desired an interview?
Two days ago, mother.
I knew that Thou wert occupied. But today we both have time, and I
can listen.
Thy speech, mother, acts on me as a strong wind of the desert, and
I have no longer courage to present my petition.
Then surely it is a question of money.
Ramses dropped his head; he was confused.
But dost Thou need much money?
Fifteen talents.
O gods! cried the lady, but a couple of days ago ten talents were
paid thee from the treasury. Go, girl, into the garden; Thou must be
tired, said she to the black slave; and when alone with her son she
asked,
But is thy Jewess so demanding?
Ramses blushed, but raised his head.
Thou knowest, mother, that she is not. But I promised a reward to
the army, and I am unable to pay it.
The queen looked at him with calm loftiness.
How evil it is, said she, after a while, when a son makes
decisions without consulting his mother. Just now I, remembering thy
age, wished to give thee a Phoenician slave maiden sent me by Tyre with
ten talents for dowry. But Thou hast preferred a Jewess.
She pleased me. There is not such a beauty among thy serving
maidens, mother, nor even among the wives of his holiness.
But she is a Jewess!
Be not prejudiced, mother, I beg of thee. It is untrue that Jews
eat pork and kill cats.
The worthy lady laughed.
Thou art speaking like some boy from a primary school, answered
she, shrugging her shoulders, and hast forgotten the words of Ramses
the Great: 'The yellow people are more numerous than we and they are
richer; let us act against them, lest they grow too powerful, but let
us act carefully.' I do not think, therefore, that a girl of that
people is the one to be first mistress of the heir to the throne.
Can the words of Ramses the Great apply to the daughter of a poor
tenant? asked the prince. Besides, where are the Jews? Three
centuries ago they left Egypt, and today they form a little state,
ridiculous and priest-governed.
I see, answered the worthy lady, frowning slightly, that thy
mistress is not losing time. Be careful, Ramses; remember, that their
leader was Messu (Moses), that traitor priest whom we curse to this day
in our temples. Remember that the Jews bore away out of Egypt more
treasures than the labor of their few generations was worth to us; they
took with them not only gold, but the faith in one god, and our sacred
laws, which they give out today as their own faith and laws. Last of
all, know this, added she, with great emphasis, that the daughters of
that people prefer death to the bed of a foreigner. And if they give
themselves even to hostile leaders, it is to use them for their policy
or to kill them.
Believe me, mother, that it is our priests who spread all these
reports. They will not admit to the footstool of the throne people of
another faith lest those people might serve the pharaoh in opposition
to their order.
The queen rose from the armchair, and crossing her arms on her
breast, gazed at her son with amazement.
What they tell me is true then, Thou art an enemy of our priests.
Thou, their favorite pupil!
I must have the traces of their canes to this day on my shoulders,
said Ramses.
But thy grandfather and my father, Amenhotep, was a high priest,
and possessed extensive power in this country.
Just because my grandfather was a pharaoh, and my father is a
pharaoh also, I cannot endure the rule of Herhor.
He was brought to his position by thy grandfather, the holy
Amenhotep.
And I will cast him down from it.
The mother shrugged her shoulders.
And it is thou, answered she, with sadness, who wishest to lead a
corps? But Thou art a spoiled girl, not a man and a leader.
How is that? interrupted the prince, restraining himself with
difficulty from an outburst.
I cannot recognize my own son. I do not see in thee the future lord
of Egypt. The dynasty in thy person will be like a Nile boat without a
rudder. Thou wilt drive the priests from the court, but who will remain
with thee? Who will be thy eye in the Lower and the Upper Country, who
in foreign lands? But the pharaoh must see everything, whatever it be,
on which fall the divine rays of Osiris.
The priests will be my servants, not my ministers.
They are the most faithful servants. Thanks to their prayers thy
father reigns thirty-three years, and avoids war which might be fatal.
To the priests?
To the pharaoh and the state! interrupted the lady. Knowest Thou
what takes place in our treasury, from which in one day Thou takest ten
talents and desirest fifteen more? Knowest Thou that were it not for
the liberality of the priests, who on behalf of the treasury even take
real jewels from the gods and put false ones in their places, the
property of the pharaoh would be now in the hands of Phoenicians?
One fortunate war would overflow our treasury as the increase of
the Nile does our fields.
No. Thou, Ramses, art such a child yet that we may not even reckon
thy godless words as sinful. Occupy thyself, I beg, with thy Greek
regiments, get rid of the Jew girl as quickly as may be, and leave
politics to us.
Why must I put away Sarah?
Shouldst Thou have a son from her, complications might rise in the
State, which is troubled enough as matters now are. Thou mayst be angry
with the priests, added she, if Thou wilt not offend them in public.
They know that it is necessary to overlook much in an heir to the
throne, especially when he has such a stormy character. But time
pacifies everything to the glory of the dynasty and the profit of
Egypt.
The prince meditated; then he said suddenly,
I cannot count, therefore, on money from the treasury.
Thou canst not in any case. The grand secretary would have been
forced to stop payment today had I not given him fourteen talents sent
from Tyre to me.
And what shall I do with the army? asked the prince, rubbing his
forehead impatiently.
Put away the Jewess, and beg the priests. Perhaps they will make a
loan to thee.
Never! I prefer a loan from Phoenicians.
The lady shook her head.
Thou art erpatr, act as may please thee. But I say that Thou must
give great security, and the Phoenicians, when once thy creditors, will
not let thee go. They surpass the Jews in treachery.
A part of my income will suffice to cover such debts.
We shall see. I wish sincerely to help thee, but I have not the
means, said the lady, sadly. Do, then, as Thou art able, but remember
that the Phoenicians in our state are like rats in a granary; when one
pushes in through a crevice, others follow.
Ramses loitered in leave-taking.
Hast Thou something more to tell me? inquired the queen.
I should like to ask My heart divines that thou, mother, hast some
plans regarding me. What are they?
She stroked his face.
Not now not yet. Thou art free today, like every young noble in the
country; then make use of thy freedom. But, Ramses, the time is coming
when Thou wilt have to take a wife whose children will be princes of
the blood royal and whose son will be thy heir. I am thinking of that
time.
And what?
Nothing defined yet. In every case political wisdom suggests to me
that thy wife should be a priest's daughter.
Perhaps Herhor's? said the prince, with a laugh.
What would there be blamable in that? Herhor will be high priest in
Thebes very soon, and his daughter is only fourteen years of age.
And would she consent to occupy the place of the Jewess? asked
Ramses, ironically.
Thou shouldst try to have people forget thy present error.
I kiss thy feet, mother, and I go, said the prince, seizing his
own head. I hear so many marvelous things here that I begin to fear
lest the Nile may flow up toward the cataract, or the pyramids pass
over to the eastern desert.
Blaspheme not, my child, whispered the lady, gazing with fear at
Ramses. In this land most wonderful miracles are seen.
Are not they this, that the walls of the palace listen to their
owners? asked her son, with a bitter smile.
Men have witnessed the death of pharaohs who had reigned a few
months only, and the fall of dynasties which had governed nine
nations.
Yes, for those pharaohs forgot the sword for the distaff, retorted
Ramses.
He bowed and went out.
In proportion as the sound of Ramses' steps grew less in the immense
antechamber, the face of the worthy lady changed; the place of majesty
was taken by pain and fear, while tears were glistening in her great
eyes.
She ran to the statue of the goddess, knelt, and sprinkling incense
from India on the coals, began to pray,
O Isis, Isis, Isis! three times do I pronounce thy name. O Isis,
who givest birth to serpents, crocodiles, and ostriches, may thy name
be thrice praised. O Isis, who preservest grains of wheat from robber
whirlwinds, and the bodies of our fathers from the destructive toil of
time, Isis, take pity on my son and preserve him! Thrice be thy name
repeated and here and there and beyond, today and forever, and for the
ages of ages, as long as the temples of our gods shall gaze on
themselves in the waters of the Nile.
Thus praying and sobbing, the queen bowed down and touched the
pavement with her forehead. Above her at that moment a low whisper was
audible,
The voice of the just is heard always.
The worthy lady sprang up, and full of astonishment looked around.
But there was no one in the chamber. Only the painted flowers gazed at
her from the walls, and from above the altar the statue of the goddess
full of super-terrestrial calm.
CHAPTER VIII
The prince returned to his villa full of care, and summoned
Tutmosis.
Thou must, said Ramses, teach me how to find money.
Ha! laughed the exquisite; that is a kind of wisdom not taught in
the highest school of the priests, but wisdom in which I might be a
prophet.
In those schools they explain that a man should not borrow money,
said Ramses.
If I did not fear that blasphemy might stain my lips, I should say
that some priests waste their time. They are wretched, though holy!
They eat no meat, they are satisfied with one wife, or avoid women
altogether, and they know not what it is to borrow. I am satisfied,
Ramses, continued the exquisite, that Thou wilt know this kind of
wisdom through my counsels. Today Thou wilt learn what a source of
sensations lack of money is. A man in need of money has no appetite, he
springs up in sleep, he looks at women with astonishment, as if to ask,
'Why were they created?' Fire flashes in his face in the coolest
temple. In the middle of a desert shivers of cold pass through him
during the greatest heat. He looks like a madman; he does not hear what
people say to him. Very often he walks along with his wig awry and
forgets to sprinkle it with perfume. His only comfort is a pitcher of
strong wine, and that for a brief moment. Barely has the poor man's
thoughts come back when again he feels as though the earth were opening
under him.
I see, continued the exquisite, that at present Thou art passing
through despair from lack of money. But soon Thou wilt know other
feelings which will be as if a great sphinx were removed from thy
bosom. Then Thou wilt yield to the sweet condition of forgetting thy
previous trouble and present creditors, and then Ah, happy Ramses,
unusual surprises will await thee! For the term will pass, and thy
creditors will begin to visit thee under pretence of paying homage.
Thou wilt be like a deer hunted by dogs, or an Egyptian girl who, while
raising water from the river, sees the knotty back of a crocodile.
All this seems very gladsome, interrupted Ramses, smiling; but it
brings not one drachma.
Never mind, continued Tutmosis. I will go this moment to Dagon,
the Phoenician banker, and in the evening Thou wilt find peace, though
he may not have given thee money.
He hastened out, took his seat in a small litter, and surrounded by
servants vanished in the alleys of the park.
Before sunset Dagon, a Phoenician, the most noted banker in Memphis,
came to the house of Ramses. He was a man in the full bloom of life,
yellow, lean, but well built. He wore a blue tunic and over it a white
robe of thin texture. He had immense hair of his own, confined by a
gold circlet, and a great black beard, his own also. This rich growth
looked imposing in comparison with the wigs and false beards of
Egyptian exquisites.
The dwelling of the heir to the throne was swarming with youth of
the aristocracy. Some on the ground floor were bathing and anointing
themselves, others were playing chess and checkers on the first story,
others in company with dancing girls were drinking under tents on the
terrace. Ramses neither drank, played, nor talked with women; he walked
along one side of the terrace awaiting the Phoenician impatiently. When
he saw him emerge from an alley in a litter on two asses, he went to
the first story, where there was an unoccupied chamber.
After awhile Dagon appeared in the door. He knelt on the threshold
and exclaimed,
I greet thee, new sun of Egypt! Mayst Thou live through eternity,
and may thy glory reach those distant shores which are visited by the
ships of Phoenicia.
At command of the prince, he rose and said with violent
gesticulations,
When the worthy Tutmosis descended before my mud hut my house is a
mud hut in comparison with thy palaces, erpatr such was the gleam from
his face that I cried at once to my wife, 'Tamara, the worthy Tutmosis
has come not from himself, but from one as much higher than he as the
Lebanon is higher than the sand of the seashore.' 'Whence dost Thou
know, my lord, that the worthy Tutmosis has not come for himself?'
'Because he could not come with money, since he has none, and he could
not come for money, because I have none.' At that moment we bowed down
both of us to the worthy Tutmosis. But when he told us that it was
thou, most worthy lord, who desirest fifteen talents from thy slave, I
asked my wife, 'Tamara, did my heart teach me badly?' 'Dagon, Thou art
so wise that Thou shouldst be an adviser to the heir,' replied my
Tamara.
Ramses was boiling with impatience, but he listened to the banker,
he, Ramses, who stormed in the presence of his own mother and the
pharaoh.
When we, lord, stopped and understood that Thou wert desirous of my
services, such delight entered my house that I ordered to give the
servants ten pitchers of beer, and my wife Tamara commanded me to buy
her new earrings. My joy was increased so that when coming hither I did
not let my driver beat the asses. And when my unworthy feet touched thy
floor, O prince, I took out a gold ring, greater than that which the
worthy Herhor gave Eunana, and presented it to thy slave who poured
water on my fingers. With permission, worthiness, whence came that
silver pitcher from which they poured the water?
Azarias, the son of Gaber, sold it to me for two talents.
A Jew? Erpatr, dost Thou deal with Jews? But what will the gods
say?
Azarias is a merchant, as Thou art, answered Ramses.
When Dagon heard this, he caught his head with both hands, he spat
and groaned,
O Baal Tammuz! O Baaleth! O Astoreth! Azarias, the son of Gaber, a
Jew, to be such a merchant as I am. Oh, my legs, why did ye bring me
hither? Oh, my heart, why dost Thou suffer such pain and palpitation?
Most worthy prince, cried the Phoenician, slay me, cut off my hand if
I counterfeit gold, but say not that a Jew can be a merchant. Sooner
will Tyre fall to the earth, sooner will sand occupy the site of Sidon
than a Jew be a merchant. They will milk their lean goats, or mix clay
with straw under blows of Egyptian sticks, but they will never sell
merchandise. Tfu! tfu! Vile nation of slaves! Thieves, robbers!
Anger boiled up in the prince, it is unknown why, but he calmed
himself quickly. This seemed strange to Ramses himself, who up to that
hour had not thought self-restraint needed in his case in presence of
any one.
And then, said the heir on a sudden, wilt thou, worthy Dagon,
loan me fifteen talents?
O Astoreth! Fifteen talents? That is such a great weight that I
should have to sit down to think of it properly.
Sit down then.
For a talent, said Dagon, sitting in an armchair comfortably, a
man can have twelve gold chains, or sixty beautiful milch cows, or ten
slaves for labor, or one slave to play on the flute or paint, and maybe
even to cure. A talent is tremendous property.
The prince's eyes flashed,
Then Thou hast not fifteen talents?
The terrified Phoenician slipped suddenly from the chair to the
floor.
Who in the city, cried he, has not money at thy command, O child
of the sun? It is true that I am a wretch whose gold, precious stones,
and whole property is not worth one glance of thine, O prince, but if I
go around among our merchants and say who sent me, I shall get fifteen
talents even from beneath the earth. Erpatr, if Thou shouldst stand
before a withered fig-tree and say 'Give money!' the fig-tree would pay
thee a ransom. But do not look at me in that way, O son of Horus, for I
feel a pain in the pit of my heart and my mind is growing blunted,
finished the Phoenician, in tones of entreaty.
Well, sit in the chair, sit in the chair, said the prince,
laughing.
Dagon rose from the floor and disposed himself still more agreeably
in the armchair.
For how long a time does the prince wish fifteen talents?
Certainly for a year.
Let us say at once three years. Only his holiness might give back
fifteen talents in the course of a year, but not the youthful heir, who
must receive young pleasant nobles and beautiful women. Ah, those
women! Is it true, with thy permission, that Thou hast taken to thyself
Sarah the daughter of Gideon?
But what per cent dost Thou wish? interrupted Ramses.
A trifle, which thy sacred lips need not mention. For fifteen
talents the prince will give five talents yearly, and in the course of
three years I will take back all myself, so that thou, worthiness, wilt
not even know.
Thou wilt give me today fifteen talents, and during three years
take back thirty?
Egyptian law permits percentage to equal the loan, answered Dagon,
confusedly.
But is that not too much?
Too much? cried out Dagon. Every great lord has a great court, a
great property, and pays no per cent save a great one. I should be
ashamed to take less from the heir to the throne; if I did the prince
himself might command to beat me with sticks and to drive me out of his
presence.
When wilt Thou bring the money?
Bring it? O gods, one man would not have strength to bring so much.
I will do better: I will make all payments for the prince, so that,
worthiness, Thou wilt not need to think of such a wretched matter.
Then dost Thou know my debts?
I know them a little, answered Dagon, carelessly.
The prince wishes to send six talents to the Eastern army; that
will be done by our bankers. Three talents to the worthy Nitager and
three to the worthy Patrokles; that will be done here immediately.
Sarah and her father I can pay through that mangy Azarias even better
to pay them thus, for they would cheat the prince in reckoning.
Ramses began to walk through the room impatiently.
Then am I to give a note for thirty talents?
What note? why a note? what good would a note be to me? The prince
will rent me for three years lands in the provinces of Takens, Ses,
Neha-Meut, Neha-Pechu, in Sebt-Het, in Habu.
Rent them? said the prince. That does not please me.
Whence then am I to get back my money, my thirty talents?
Wait! I must ask the inspector of my granaries how much these
properties bring me in yearly.
Why so much trouble, worthiness? What does the inspector know? He
knows nothing; as I am an honest Phoenician, he knows nothing. Each
year the harvest is different, and the income different also. I may
lose in this business, and the inspector would make no return to me.
But seest thou, Dagon, it seems to me that those lands bring far
more than ten talents yearly.
The prince is unwilling to trust me? Well, at command of the heir I
will drop out the land of Ses. The prince is not sure of my heart yet?
Well, I will yield Sebt-Het also. But what use for an inspector here?
Will he teach the prince wisdom? O Astoreth! I should lose sleep and
appetite if such an overseer, subject and slave, dared to correct my
gracious lord. Here is needed only a scribe who will write down that my
most worthy lord gives me as tenant for three years lands in such and
such a province. And sixteen witnesses will be needed to testify that
such an honor from the prince has come to me. But why should servants
know that their lord borrows money from Dagon?
The wearied heir shrugged his shoulders.
Tomorrow, said he, Thou wilt bring the money, and bring a scribe
and witnesses. I do not wish to think of it.
Oh, what wise words! cried the Phoenician. Mayst Thou live,
worthiest lord, through eternity!
CHAPTER IX
ON the right bank of the Nile, on the edge of the northern suburb of
Memphis, was that laud which the heir to 'the throne had given as place
of residence to Sarah the daughter of Gideon.
That was a possession thirty-five acres in area, forming a
quadrangle which was seen from the house-top as something on the palm
of the hand. The land was on a hill and was divided into four
elevations. The two lowest and widest, which the Nile always flooded,
were intended for grain and for vegetables. The third, which at times
was untouched by the overflow, produced palms, figs, and other
fruit-trees. On the fourth, the highest, was a garden planted with
olives, grapes, nuts, and sweet chestnuts; in the middle garden stood
the dwelling.
This dwelling was of wood, one story, as usual, with a flat roof on
which was a tent made of canvas. On the ground dwelt the prince's black
slave; above Sarah with her relative and serving-woman Tafet. The place
was surrounded by a wall of partially burnt brick, beyond which at a
certain distance were houses for cattle, workmen, and overseers.
Sarah's chambers were not large, but they were elegant. On the floor
were divans, at the doors and windows were curtains with stripes of
various colors. There were armchairs and a carved bed, inlaid boxes for
clothing, three-legged and one-legged tables on which were pots with
flowers, a slender pitcher for wine, boxes and bottles of perfume,
golden and silver cups and goblets, porcelain vases and dishes, bronze
candlesticks. Even the smallest furniture or vessel was ornamented with
carving or with a colored drawing; every piece of clothing with lace or
bordering.
Sarah had dwelt ten days in this retreat, hiding herself before
people from fear and shame, so that almost no one of the servants had
seen her. In the curtained chamber she sewed, wove linen on a small
loom, or twined garlands of living flowers for Ramses. Sometimes she
went out on the terrace, pushed apart the sides of the tent with care,
and looked at the Nile covered with boats in which oarsmen were singing
songs joyfully. On raising her eyes she looked with fear at the gray
pylons of the pharaoh's palace, which towered silent and gloomy above
the other bank of the river. Then she ran again to her work and called
Tafet.
Sit here, mother, said she; what art Thou doing down there?
The gardener has brought fruit, and they have sent bread, wine, and
game from the city; I must take them.
Sit here and talk, for fear seizes me.
Thou art a foolish child, said Tafet, smiling. Fear looked at me
too the first day from every corner; but when I went out beyond the
wall, there was no more of it. Whom have I to fear here? All fall on
their knees before me. Before thee they would stand on their heads
even! Go to the garden; it is as beautiful as paradise. Look out at the
field, see the wheat harvest; sit down in the carved boat the owner of
which is withering from anxiety to see thee and take thee out of the
river.
I am afraid.
Of what?
Do I know? While I am sewing, I think that T am in our valley and
that my father will come right away; but when the wind pushes the
curtain aside from the window and I look on this great country it seems
to me, knowest what? that some mighty vulture has caught and borne me
to his nest on a mountain, whence I have no power to save myself.
Ah, Thou thou! If Thou hadst seen what a bathtub the prince sent
this morning, a bronze one; and what a tripod for the fire, what pots
and spits! And if Thou knew that today I have put two hens to set, and
before long we shall have little chicks here.
Sarah was more daring after sunset, when no one could see her. She
went out on the roof and looked at the river. And when from afar a boat
appeared, flaming with torches, which formed fiery and bloody lines
along the dark water, she pressed with both hands her poor heart, which
quivered like a bird caught that instant. Ramses was coming, and she
could not tell what had seized her, delight because that beautiful
youth was approaching whom she had seen in the valley, or dread because
she would see again a great lord and ruler who made her timid.
One Sabbath evening her father came for the first time since she had
settled in that villa. Sarah rushed to him with weeping; she washed his
feet herself, poured perfumes on his head, and covered him with kisses.
Gideon was an old man of stern features. He wore a long robe reaching
his feet and edged at the bottom with colored embroidery; over this he
wore a yellow sleeveless kaftan. A kind of cape covered his breast and
shoulders. On his head was a smallish cap, growing narrow toward the
top.
Thou art here! Thou art here! exclaimed Sarah; and she kissed his
head again.
I am astonished myself at being here, said Gideon, sadly. I stole
to the garden like a criminal; I thought, along the whole way from
Memphis, that all the Egyptians were pointing me out with their fingers
and that each Jew was spitting.
But Thou didst give me thyself to the prince, father.
I did, for what could I do? Of course it only seems to me that they
point and spit. Of Egyptians, whoever knows me bows the lower the
higher he is himself. Since Thou art here our lord Sesoforis has said
that he must enlarge my house; Chaires gave me a jar of the best wine,
and our most worthy nomarch himself has sent a trusty servant to ask if
Thou art well, and if I will not become his manager.
But the Jews? inquired Sarah.
What of the Jews! They know that I did not yield of my own will.
Every one of them would wish to be constrained in like manner. Let the
Lord God judge us all. Better tell how Thou art feeling.
In Abraham's bosom she will not have more comfort, said Tafet.
Every day they bring us fruit, wine, bread, meat, and whatever the
soul wishes. And such baths as we have, all bronze, and such kitchen
utensils!
Three days ago, interrupted Sarah, the Phoenician Dagon was here.
I did not wish to see him, but he insisted.
He gave me a gold ring, added Tafet.
He told me, continued Sarah, that he was a tenant of my lord; he
gave me two anklets, pearl earrings, and a box of perfumes from the
land of Punt.
Why did he give them to thee? asked her father.
For nothing. He simply begged that I would think well of him, and
tell my lord sometimes that Dagon was his most faithful servant.
Very soon Thou wilt have a whole box of earrings and bracelets,
said Gideon, smiling. But after a moment he added: Gather up a great
property quickly and let us flee back to our own land, for here there
is misery at all times, misery when we are in trouble, and still more
of it when we are prosperous.
And what would my lord say? asked Sarah, with sadness.
Her father shook his head.
Before a year passes thy lord will cast thee aside, and others will
help him. Wert Thou an Egyptian, he would take thee to his palace; but
a Jewess.
He will cast aside? said Sarah, sighing.
Why torment one's self with days to come, which are in the hand of
God? I am here to pass the Sabbath with thee.
I have splendid fish, meat, cakes, and wine of the Jews, put in
Tafet, quickly. I have bought also, in Memphis, a seven-branched
candlestick and wax tapers. We shall have a better supper than has Lord
Chaires.
Gideon went out on the flat roof with his daughter.
Tafet tells me, said he, when they were alone, that Thou art
always in the house. Why is this? Thou shouldst look at least on the
garden.
I am afraid, whispered Sarah.
Why be afraid of thy own garden? Here Thou art mistress, a great
lady.
Once I went out in the daytime. People of some sort stared at me,
and said to one another, 'Look! that is the heir's Jewess; she delays
the overflow.'.
They are fools! interrupted Gideon. Is this the first time that
the Nile is late in its overflow? But go out in the evening.
Sarah shook her head with greater vigor.
I do not wish, I do not wish. Another time I went out in the
evening. All at once two women pushed out from a side path. I was
frightened and wished to flee, when one of them, the younger and
smaller, seized my hands, saying, 'Do not flee, we must look at thee;'
the second, the elder and taller, stood some steps in front and looked
me in the eyes directly. Ah, father, I thought that I should turn into
stone. What a look, what a woman!
Who could she be? asked Gideon.
The elder woman looked like a priestess.
And did she say anything?
Nothing. But when going and they were hidden behind trees, I heard
surely the voice of the elder say these words: 'Indeed she is
beautiful!
Gideon fell to thinking.
Maybe they were great ladies from the court.
The sun went down, and on both banks of the Nile dense crowds of
people collected waiting impatiently for the signal of the overflow,
which in fact was belated. For two days the wind had been blowing from
the sea and the river was green; the sun had passed the star Sothis
already, but in the well of the priest in Memphis the water had not
risen even the breadth of a finger. The people were alarmed, all the
more since in Upper Egypt, according to signals, the overflow proceeded
with regular increase and even promised to be perfect.
What detains it at Memphis then? asked the anxious earth-tillers
waiting for the signal in disquiet.
When the stars had appeared in the sky, Tafet spread a white cloth
on the table, placed on it the candlestick with seven lighted torches,
pushed up three armchairs, and announced that the Sabbath supper would
be served immediately.
Gideon covered his head then, and raising both hands above the
table, said with his eyes looking heavenward,
God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, Thou who didst lead our people
out of Egypt, who didst give a country to the slave and exile, who
didst make with the sons of Judah an eternal covenant, O Jehovah, O
Adonai, permit us to enjoy without sin the fruits of the enemies'
country. Bring us out of sorrow and fear in which we are buried, and
restore us to the banks of the Jordan, which we left for Thy glory.
At the moment a voice was heard from beyond the wall,
His worthiness Tutmosis, the most faithful servant of his holiness
and of his son Prince Ramses!
May he live through eternity! called a number of voices from the
garden.
His worthiness, said a single voice again, sends greeting to the
most beautiful rose of Lebanon.
When the voice ceased, the sound of harps and flutes was heard.
That is music! exclaimed Tafet, clapping her hands. We shall pass
the Sabbath with music.
Sarah and her father, frightened at first, began to laugh, and sat
down again at the table.
Let them play, said Gideon; their music is not bad for the
appetite.
The flute and harp played, then a tenor voice sang,
Thou art more beautiful than all the maidens who look at themselves
in the Nile. Thy hair is blacker than the feathers of a raven, thy eyes
have a milder glance than the eyes of a deer which is yearning for its
fawn. Thy stature is the stature of a palm, and the lotus envies thee
thy charm. Thy bosoms are like grape clusters with the juice of which
kings delight themselves.
Again the flute and harp were heard, and next a song,
Come and repose in the garden. The servants which belong to thee
will bring various vessels and beer of all kinds. Come, let us
celebrate this night and the dawn which will follow it. In my shadow,
in the shadow of the fig, giving sweet fruit, thy lover will rest at
thy right hand; and Thou wilt give him to drink and consent to all his
wishes.
Next came the flutes and harps, and after them a new song,
I am of a silent disposition, I never tell what I see, I spoil not
the sweetness of my fruits with vain tattling. [Authentic.]
CHAPTER X
THE song ceased, drowned by an uproar and by a noise as of many
people running.
Unbelievers! Enemies of Egypt! cried some one. Ye are singing
when we are sunk in suffering, and ye are praising the Jewess who stops
the flow of the Nile with her witchcraft.
Woe to you! cried another. Ye are trampling the land of Prince
Ramses. Death will fall on you and your children.
We will go, but let the Jewess come out so that we may tell our
wrongs to her.
Let us flee! screamed Tafet.
Whither? inquired Gideon.
Never! said Sarah, on whose mild face appeared a flush of anger.
Do I not belong to the heir, before whose face those people all
prostrate themselves?
And before her father and the old woman had regained their senses,
she, all in white, had run out on the roof and called to the throng
beyond the wall,
Here I am! What do ye want of me?
The uproar was stilled for a moment, but again threatening voices
were raised,
Be accursed, Thou strange woman whose sin stops the Nile in its
overflow!
A number of stones hurled at random whistled through the air; one of
them struck Sarah's forehead.
Father! cried she, seizing her head.
Gideon caught her in his arms and bore her from the terrace. In the
night were visible people, in white caps and skirts, who climbed over
the wall below.
Tafet screamed in a heaven-piercing voice, the black slave seized an
axe, took his place in the doorway, and declared that he would split
the head of any man daring to enter.
Stone that Nubian dog! cried men from the wall to the crowd of
people.
But the people became silent all at once, for from the depth of the
garden came a man with shaven head; from this man's shoulders depended
a panther skin.
A prophet! A holy father! murmured some in the crowd. Those
sitting on the wall began now to spring down from it.
People of Egypt, said the priest, calmly, with what right do ye
raise hands on the property of the erpatr?
The unclean Jewess dwells here, who stops the rise of the Nile. Woe
to us! misery and famine are hanging over Lower Egypt.
People of weak mind or of evil faith, said the priest, where have
ye heard that one woman could stop the will of the gods? Every year in
the month Thoth the Nile begins to increase and rises till the mouth
peak. Has it ever happened otherwise, though our land has been full at
all times of strangers, sometimes foreign priests and princes, who
groaning in captivity and grievous labor might utter the most dreadful
curses through sorrow and anger? They would have brought on our heads
all kinds of misfortune, and more than one of them would have given
their lives if only the sun would not rise over Egypt in the morning,
or if the Nile would not rise when the year began. And what came of
their prayers? Either they were not heard in the heavens, or foreign
gods had no power in presence of the gods of Egypt. How then is a woman
who lives pleasantly among us to cause a misfortune which is beyond the
power of our mightiest enemies?
The holy father speaks truth. Wise are the words of the prophet!
said people among the multitude.
But Messu (Moses), the Jewish leader, brought darkness and death
into Egypt! said one voice.
Let the man who said that step forth, cried the priest. I
challenge him, let him come forward, unless he is an enemy of the
Egyptian people.
The crowd murmured like a wind from afar blowing between trees, but
no man came forward,
I speak truth, continued the priest; evil men are moving among
you like hyenas in a sheepfold. They have no pity on your misery, they
urged you to destroy the house of the heir and to rebel against the
pharaoh. If their vile plan had succeeded and blood had begun to flow
from your bosoms, they would have hidden before spears as they hide now
before my challenge.
Listen to the prophet! Praise to thee, man of God! cried the
people, inclining their foreheads.
The most pious fell to the earth.
Hear me, Egyptian people. In return for your faith in the words of
a priest, for your obedience to the pharaoh and the heir, for the honor
which ye give to a servant of the god, a favor will be shown you. Go to
your houses in peace, and even before ye have left this hill the Nile
will be rising.
Oh, may it rise!
Go! The greater your faith and piety the more quickly will ye see
the sign of favor.
Let us go! Let us go! Be blessed, O prophet, Thou son of prophets!
They began to separate, kissing the robe of the priest. With that
some one shouted,
The miracle, the miracle is accomplished.
On the tower in Memphis a light flamed up.
The Nile is rising! See, more and more lights! Indeed a mighty
saint spoke to us. May he live through eternity!
They turned toward the priest, but he had vanished among shadows.
The throng raging a little while earlier, amazed and filled now with
gratitude, forgot both its anger and the wonder-working priest. It was
mastered by a wild delight; men rushed to the bank of the river, on
which many lights were burning and where a great hymn was rising from
the assembled people,
Be greeted, Nile, sacred river, which appearest on this country!
Thou comest in peace, to give life to Egypt. O hidden deity who
scatterest darkness, who moistenest the fields, to bring food to dumb
animals, O Thou the precious one, descending from heaven to give drink
to the earth, O friend of bread, Thou who gladdenest our cottages! Thou
art the master of fishes; when Thou art in our fields no bird dares
touch the harvest. Thou art the creator of grain and the parent of
barley; Thou givest rest to the hands of millions of the unfortunate
and for ages Thou securest the sanctuary. [Authentic]
At this time the illuminated boat of Ramses sailed from the shore
opposite amid songs and outcries. Those very persons who half an hour
earlier wished to burst into his villa were falling now on their faces
before him, or hurling themselves into the water to kiss the oars and
the sides of the boat which was bearing the son of their ruler.
Gladsome, surrounded by torches, Ramses, in company with Tutmosis,
approached Sarah's dwelling. At sight of him Gideon said to Tafet,
Great is my alarm for my daughter, but still greater my wish to
avoid Prince Ramses.
He sprang over the wall, and amid darkness through gardens and
fields he held on in the direction of Memphis.
Be greeted, O beauteous Sarah! cried Tutmosis in the courtyard. I
hope that Thou wilt receive us well for the music which I sent to
thee.
Sarah appeared, with bandaged head on the threshold, leaning on the
black slave and her female attendant.
What is the meaning of this? cried the astonished Ramses.
Terrible things! called out Tafet. Unbelievers attacked thy
house; one hurled a stone and struck Sarah.
What unbelievers?
But those the Egyptians! explained Tafet.
The prince cast a contemptuous glance at her, but rage mastered him
straightway.
Who struck Sarah? Who threw the stone? shouted he, seizing the arm
of the black man.
Those from beyond the river, answered the slave.
Hei, watchman! cried the prince, foaming at the mouth, arm all
the men in this place for me and follow that rabble!
The black slave seized his axe again, the overseers fell to
summoning workmen from the buildings, some soldiers of the prince's
suite grasped their sword-hilts mechanically.
By the mercy of Jehovah, what art Thou doing? whispered Sarah, as
she hung on the neck of Ramses.
I wish to avenge thee, answered he; whoso strikes at that which
is mine strikes at me.
Tutmosis grew pale, and shook his head.
Hear me, lord, said he; wilt Thou discover in the night and in a
multitude the men who committed the crime?
All one to me. The rabble did it, and the rabble must give answer.
No judge will say that, reflected Tutmosis. But Thou art to be
the highest judge.
The prince became thoughtful. Tutmosis continued,
Stop! what would the pharaoh our lord say to-morrow? And what
delight would reign among our foes in the east and the west, if they
heard that the heir to the throne, almost at the royal palace, was
attacked in the night by his own people?
Oh, if my father would give me even half the army, our enemies on
all sides of the world would be silent forever! said the prince,
stamping on the pavement.
Finally, remember that man who hanged himself; Thou wert sorry when
an innocent man lost his life. But today is it possible that Thou art
willing thyself to slay innocent people?
Enough! interrupted Ramses, in a deep voice. My anger is like a
water-jar. Woe to him on whom it falls! Let us enter.
The frightened Tutmosis drew back. The prince took Sarah by the hand
and went to the terrace. He seated her near the table on which was the
unfinished supper, and approaching the light drew the bandage from her
forehead.
Ah! cried he, this is not even a wound, it is only a blue spot.
He looked at Sarah attentively.
I never-thought, said he, that Thou wouldst have a blue spot.
This changed thy face considerably.
Then I please thee no longer? whispered Sarah, raising on him
great eyes full of fear.
Oh, no! this will pass quickly.
Then he called Tutmosis and the black, and commanded to tell him
what had happened that evening.
He defended us, said Sarah. He stood, with an axe, in the
doorway.
Didst Thou do that? asked the prince, looking quickly into the
eyes of the Nubian.
Was I to let strange people break into thy house, lord?
Ramses patted him on the curly head.
Thou hast acted, said he, like a brave man. I give thee freedom.
Tomorrow Thou wilt receive a reward and mayst return to thy own
people.
The black tottered and rubbed his eyes, the whites of which were
shining. Suddenly he dropped on his knees, and cried as he struck the
floor with his forehead,
Do not put me away, lord.
Well, replied Ramses, remain with me, but as a free warrior. I
need just such men, said he, turning to Tutmosis. He cannot talk like
the overseer of the house of books, but he is ready for battle.
And again he inquired for details of the attack, when the Nubian
told how a priest had approached, and when he related his miracles the
prince seized his own head, exclaiming,
I am the most hapless man in all Egypt! Very soon I shall find a
priest in my bed even. Whence did he come? Who was he?
The black servitor could not explain this, but he said that the
priest's action toward the prince and toward Sarah was very friendly;
that the attack was directed not by Egyptians, but by people who, the
priest said, were enemies of Egypt, and whom he challenged to step
forward, but they would not.
Wonders! wonders! said Ramses, meditating, and throwing himself on
a couch. My black slave is a valiant warrior and a man full of
judgment. A priest defends a Jewess, because she is mine. What a
strange priest he is! The Egyptian people who kneel down before the
pharaoh's dogs attack the house of the erpatr under direction of
unknown enemies of Egypt. I myself must look into this.
CHAPTER XI
The month Thoth has ended and the month Paofi (the second half of
July) has begun. The water of the Nile, from being greenish and then
white, has become ruddy and is rising continually. The royal indicator
in Memphis is filled to the height of two men almost, and the Nile
rises two hands daily. The lowest land is inundated; from higher ground
people are removing hastily flax, grapes, and cotton of a certain
species. Over places which were dry in the early morning, waves plash
as evening approaches. A mighty, unseen whirlwind seems to blow in the
depth of the Nile. This wind ploughs up broad spaces on the river,
fills the furrows with foam, then smoothes for a moment the surface,
and after a time twists it into deep eddies. Again the hidden wind
ploughs, again it smoothes out, whirls, pushes forward new hills of
water, new rows of foam, and raises the rustling river, wins without
ceasing new platforms of land. Sometimes the water, after reaching a
certain boundary, leaps across in a twinkle, pours into a low place,
and makes a shining pond where a moment earlier withered grass was
breaking up into dust heaps.
Though the rise of the river has reached barely one third of its
height, the whole region near the banks is under water. Every hour some
little height takes on the semblance of an island, divided from others
by a narrow channel, which widens gradually and cuts off the house more
and more from its neighbors. Very often he who walked out to work comes
home in a boat from his labor.
Boats and rafts appear more and more frequently on the river. From
some of them men are catching fish in nets; on others they bring the
harvest to granaries, or bellowing cattle to their stables. With other
boats visits are made to acquaintances to inform them amid shouts and
laughter that the river is rising. Sometimes boats gather in one place,
like a flock of daws, and then shoot apart on all sides before a broad
raft bearing down from Upper Egypt immense blocks of stone hewn out in
quarries near the river.
In the air, as far as the ear can hear, extend the roar of the
rising water, the cries of frightened birds, and the gladsome songs of
people. The Nile is rising, there will be bread in abundance.
During a whole month investigation continued in the affair of the
attack on the house of Ramses. Each morning a boat with officials and
warriors came to some small estate. People were snatched from their
labor, overwhelmed with treacherous questions, beaten with sticks.
Toward evening two boats returned to Memphis: one brought officials,
the other brought prisoners.
In this way some hundreds of men were caught, of whom one half knew
nothing, the other half were threatened by imprisonment or toil for a
number of years in the quarries. But nothing was learned of those who
led the attack, or of that priest who had persuaded the people to leave
the place. Prince Ramses had qualities which were uncommonly
contradictory. He was as impetuous as a lion and as stubborn as a
bullock, but he had a keen understanding and a deep sense of justice.
Seeing that this investigation by officials gave no result whatever,
he sailed on a certain day to Memphis and commanded to open the prison.
The prison was built on an eminence surrounded by a lofty wall, and
was composed of a great number of stone, brick, and wooden buildings.
These buildings for the main part were merely the dwellings of
overseers. Prisoners were placed in subterranean dens hewn out in a
cliff of limestone.
When Prince Ramses passed the gate, he saw a crowd of women washing
and feeding some prisoner. This naked man, who resembled a skeleton,
was sitting on the ground, having his hands and feet in four openings
of a square plank which took the place of fetters.
Has this man suffered long in this way? asked Ramses.
Two months, said the overseer.
And must he sit here much longer?
A month.
What did he do?
He was insolent to a tax gatherer.
The prince turned and saw another crowd, composed of women and
children. Among them was an old man.
Are these prisoners?
No, most worthy lord. That is a family waiting for the body of a
criminal who is to be strangled oh, they are taking him already to the
chamber, said the overseer.
Then, turning to the crowd, he said,
Be patient a short time, dear people. Ye will get the body soon.
We thank thee greatly, worthy lord, answered an old man, doubtless
the father of the delinquent. We left home yesterday evening, our flax
is in the field, and the river is rising.
The prince grew pale, and halted.
Dost Thou know, asked he of the overseer, that I have the right
of pardon?
Erpatr, Thou hast that right, answered the overseer, bowing; and
then he added: The law declares, O child of the sun, that in memory of
thy presence men condemned for offences against the state and religion,
but who conduct themselves properly, should receive some abatement. A
list of such persons will be placed at thy feet within a month.
But he who is to be strangled this moment, has he not the right to
my grace?
The overseer opened his arms, and bent forward in silence.
They moved from place to place, and passed a number of courts. In
wooden cases on the bare ground were crowded men sentenced to
imprisonment. In one building were heard awful screams; they were
clubbing prisoners to force confession.
I wish to see those accused of attacking my house, said the heir,
deeply moved.
Of those there are more than three hundred, said the overseer.
Select according to thy own judgment the most guilty, and question
them in my presence. I do not wish, though, to be known to them.
They opened to Ramses a chamber in which the investigating official
was occupied. The prince commanded him to take his usual place, but sat
himself behind a pillar.
The accused appeared one by one. All were lean; much hair had grown
out on them, and their eyes had the expression of settled bewilderment.
Dutmoses, said the official, tell how ye attacked the house of
the most worthy erpatr.
I will tell truth, as at the judgment seat of Osiris. It was the
evening of that day when the Nile was to begin rising. My wife said to
me, 'Come, father, let us go up on the hills, where we can have an
earlier sight of the signal in Memphis.' Then we went up where we could
see the signal in Memphis more easily. Some warrior came to my wife and
said, 'Come with me into that garden. We will find grapes there, and
something else also.' Then my wife went into the garden with that
warrior. I fell into great rage, and I looked at them through the wall.
But whether stones were thrown at the prince's house or not I cannot
tell, for because of the trees and darkness I could not see anything.
But how couldst Thou let thy wife go with a warrior? asked the
official.
With permission, worthiness, what was I to do? I am only an earth
worker, and he is a warrior and soldier of his holiness.
But didst Thou see the priest who spoke to you?
That was not a priest, said the man, with conviction. That must
have been the god Num himself, for he came out of a fig-tree and he had
a ram's head on him.
But didst Thou see that he had a ram's head?
With permission I do not remember well whether I saw myself or
whether people told me. My eyes were affected by anxiety for my wife.
Didst Thou throw stones at the garden?
Why should I throw stones, lord of life and death? If I had hit my
wife, I should have made trouble for a week. If I had hit the warrior,
I should have got a blow of a fist in the belly that would have made my
tongue stick out, for I am nothing but an earth-worker, and he is a
warrior of our lord who lives through eternity.
The heir leaned out from behind the column. They led away Dutmoses,
and brought in Anup. He was a short fellow. On his shoulders were scars
from club-strokes.
Tell me, Anup, began the official again, how was it about that
attack on the garden of the heir to the throne?
Eye of the sun, said the man, vessel of wisdom, Thou knowest best
of all that I did not make the attack, only a neighbor comes to me and
says he, 'Anup, come up, for the Nile is rising.' And I say to him, 'Is
it rising?' And he says to me, 'Thou art duller than an ass, for an ass
would hear music on a hill, and Thou dost not hear it.' 'But,' says I,
'I am dull, for I did not learn writing; but with permission music is
one thing and the rise of the river is another.' 'If there were not a
rise,' says he, 'people would not have anything to be glad about and
play and sing.' So I say to thy justice, we went to the hill, and they
had driven away the music there and were throwing stones at the
garden.
Who threw stones?
I could not tell. The men did not look like earth-workers, but more
like unclean dissectors who open dead bodies for embalming.
And didst Thou see the priest?
With thy permission, O watchfulness, that was not a priest, but
some spirit that guards the house of the erpatr may he live through
eternity!
Why a spirit?
For at moments I saw him and at moments he went somewhere.
Perhaps he was behind the people?
Indeed the people sometimes were in front of him. But at one time
he was higher and at another time lower.
Maybe he went up on the hill and came down from it?
He must have gone up and come down, but maybe he stretched and
shortened himself, for he was a great wonderworker. Barely had he said,
'The Nile will rise,' and that minute the Nile began to rise.
And didst Thou throw stones, Anup?
How should I dare to throw stones into the garden of the erpatr? I
am a simple fellow, my hand would wither to the elbow for such
sacrilege.
The prince gave command to stop the examination, and when they had
led away the accused, he asked the official,
Are these of the most guilty?
Thou hast said it, lord, answered the official.
In that case all must be liberated today. We should not imprison
people because they wished to convince themselves that the holy Nile
was rising or for listening to music.
The highest wisdom is speaking through thy lips, erpatr, said the
official. I was commanded to find the most guilty, hence I have
summoned those whom I have found so; but it is not in my power to
return them liberty.
Why?
Look, most worthy, on that box. It is full of papyruses on which
are written the details of the case. A judge in Memphis receives a
report on the progress of the case daily, and reports to his holiness.
What would become of the labor of so many learned scribes and great men
if the accused were set free?
But they are innocent! cried the prince.
There was an attack, therefore an offence. Where there is an
offence there must be offenders. Whoever has fallen once into the hands
of power, and is described in acts, cannot get free without some
result. In an inn a man drinks and pays; at a fair he sells something
and receives; in a field he sows and harvests; at graves he receives
blessings from his deceased ancestors. How, then, could any one after
he has come to a court return with nothing, like a traveler stopping
half-way on his journey and turning back his steps homeward without
attaining his object?
Thou speakest wisely, answered the heir. But tell me, has not his
holiness the right to free these people?
The official crossed his arms on his breast and bent his head,
He is equal to the gods, he can do what he wishes; liberate
accused, nay, condemned men, and destroy even the documents of a case,
things which if done by a common man would be sacrilege.
The prince took farewell of the official, and said to the overseer,
Give the accused better food at my expense. Then he sailed, greatly
irritated, to the other bank, stretching forth his hands toward the
palace continually, as if begging the pharaoh to destroy the case.
But that day his holiness had many religious ceremonies and a
counsel with the ministers, hence the heir could not see him. The
prince went immediately to the grand secretary, who next to the
minister of war had most significance at the court of the pharaoh. That
ancient official, a priest at one of the temples in Memphis, received
the prince politely but coldly, and when he had heard him he answered,
It is a marvel to me that Thou wishest, worthiness, to disturb our
lord with such questions. It is as if Thou wert to beg him not to
destroy locusts which devour what is on the fields.
But they are innocent people.
We, worthy lord, cannot know that, for law and the courts decide as
to guilt and innocence. One thing is clear to me, the state cannot
suffer an attack on any one's garden, and especially cannot suffer that
hands should be raised against property of the erpatr.
Thou speakest justly, but where are the guilty? answered Ramses.
Where there are no guilty there must at least be men who are
punished. Not the guilt of a man, but the punishment which follows a
crime, teaches others that they are not to commit the crime in
question.
I see, interrupted the heir, that your worthiness will not
support my prayer.
Wisdom flows from thy lips, erpatr, answered the priest. Never
shall I give my lord a counsel which would expose the dignity of power
to a blow.
The prince returned home pained and astonished. He felt that an
injury had been done to some hundreds of people, and he saw that he
could not save them any more than he could rescue a man on whom an
obelisk or the column of a temple had fallen.
My hands are too weak to rear this edifice, thought the prince,
with anguish of spirit.
For the first time he felt that there was a power infinitely greater
than his will, the interest of the state, which even the all-powerful
pharaoh acknowledges and before which he the erpatr must bend himself.
Night had fallen. Ramses commanded his servants to admit no one, and
walked in loneliness on the terrace of his villa, thinking,
A wonderful thing! Down there at Pi-Bailos the invincible regiments
of Nitager opened before me, while in Memphis an overseer of prisons,
an investigating official, and a scribe bar the way to me. What are
they? Mere servants of my father, may he live through eternity! who can
cast them down to the rank of slaves at any moment and send them to the
quarries. But why should not my father pardon the innocent? The state
does not wish him to do so. And what is the state? Does it eat? where
does it sleep? where are its hands and its sword, of which all are in
terror?
He looked into the garden, and among the trees on the summit of an
eminence he saw two immense silhouettes of pylons, on which sentry
lights were burning. The thought came to him that that watch never
slept, those pylons never ate, but still they existed. Those pylons had
existed for ages, mighty, like Ramses the Great, that potentate who had
reared them.
Could he lift those edifices and hundreds of similar grandeur; could
he escape those guards and thousands of others who watch over the
safety of Egypt; could he disobey laws established by Ramses the Great
and other preceding pharaohs still greater, laws which twenty dynasties
had consecrated by their reverence?
In the soul of the prince for the first time in life a certain idea,
dim but gigantic, began to fix itself in outline, the idea of the
state. The state is something more magnificent than the temple in
Thebes, something grander than the pyramid of Cheops, something more
ancient than the subterranean temple of the Sphinx, something more
enduring than granite in that immense though invisible edifice people
are like ants in some cranny of a cliff, and the pharaoh a mere
traveling architect who is barely able to lay one stone in the wall of
the edifice and then go on farther. But the walls increase from
generation to generation and the edifice continues.
He, the son of the pharaoh, had never felt yet his littleness as in
that moment, when his glance in the midst of the night was wandering
beyond the Nile among pylons of the pharaoh's palace, and the
indefinite but imposing outlines of the Memphis temples.
At that moment from among the trees whose branches touched the
terrace, he heard a voice.
I know thy anxiety and I bless thee. The court will not free the
prisoners. But the case will drop, and they may return to their houses
if the overseer of thy land does not support the complaint of attack.
Then did my overseer make the charge? asked the astonished prince.
Thou hast spoken truth. He made the charge in thy name. But if he
does not go to the court, there will be no injured person; and there is
no offence if there is no injured person.
The thicket rustled.
Stop! cried Ramses; who art thou?
No one gave answer. But it seemed to the prince that in a streak of
light from a torch burning on the lower floor a naked head was visible
for an instant, and also a panther skin.
A priest, whispered the heir. Why does he hide himself?
But at that moment it occurred to him that the priest might answer
grievously for giving counsel which stopped the dispensation of
justice.
CHAPTER XII
RAMSES passed most of the night in feverish imaginings. Once the
vision of the state appeared to him as an immense labyrinth with strong
walls through which no one could force a way, then again he saw the
shadow of a priest who with one wise opinion had indicated to him the
method of escape from that labyrinth. And now appeared unexpectedly
before him two powers, the interest of the state, which he had not felt
thus far, though he was heir to the throne; and the priesthood, which
he wished to debase and then make his servant.
That was a burdensome night. The prince turned on his bed
repeatedly, and asked himself whether he had not been blind, and if he
had not received sight that day for the first time in order to convince
himself of his folly and nothingness. How differently during those
night hours did the warnings of his mother appear to him, and the
restraint of his father in enouncing the supreme will, and even the
stern conduct of the minister, Herhor.
The state and the priesthood! repeated the prince, half asleep,
and covered with cold perspiration.
The heavenly deities alone know what would have happened had there
been time to develop and ripen those thoughts which were circling that
night in the soul of Ramses. Perhaps if he had become pharaoh he would
have been one of the most fortunate and longest-lived rulers. Perhaps
his name, carved in temples above ground and underground, would have
come down to posterity surrounded with the highest glory. Perhaps he
and his dynasty would not have lost the throne, and Egypt would have
avoided great disturbance and the bitterest days of her history.
But the serenity of morning scattered the visions which circled
above the heated head of the heir, and the succeeding days changed
greatly his ideas of the inflexible interests of Egypt.
The visit of the prince to the prison was not fruitless. The
investigating official made a report to the supreme judge immediately,
the judge looked over the case again, examined some of the accused
himself, and in the course of some days liberated the greater number;
the remainder he brought to trial as quickly as possible.
When he who had complained of the damage done the prince's property
did not appear, though summoned in the hall of the court and on the
market- place, the case was dropped, and the rest of the accused were
set at liberty.
One of the judges remarked, it is true, that according to law the
prince's overseer should be prosecuted for false complaint, and, in
case of conviction, suffer the punishment which threatened the
defendants. This question too they passed over in silence.
The overseer disappeared from the eyes of justice, he was sent by
the heir to the province of Takeus, and soon the whole box of documents
in the case vanished it was unknown whither.
On hearing this, Prince Ramses went to the grand secretary and asked
with a smile,
Well, worthy lord, the innocent are liberated, the documents
concerning them have been destroyed sacrilegiously, and still the
dignity of the government has not been exposed to danger.
My prince, answered the grand secretary, with his usual coolness,
I did not understand that Thou offerest complaints with one hand and
wishest to withdraw them with the other. Worthiness, Thou wert offended
by the rabble; hence it was thy affair to punish it. If Thou hast
forgiven it, the state has nothing to answer.
The state! the state! repeated the prince. We are the state,
added he, blinking.
Yes, the state is the pharaoh and his most faithful servants,
added the secretary.
This conversation with such a high official sufficed to obliterate
in the prince's soul those ideas of state dignity which were growing
and powerful, though indistinct yet. The state, then, is not that
immovable, ancient edifice to which each pharaoh is bound to add one
stone of glory, but rather a sand-heap, which each ruler reshapes as he
pleases. In the state there are no narrow doors, known as laws, in
passing through which each must bow his head, whoever he be, erpatr or
earth-worker. In this edifice are various entrances and exits, narrow
for the weak and small, very wide, nay, commodious for the powerful.
If this be so, thought the prince, as the idea flashed on him, I
will make the order which shall please me.
At that moment Ramses remembered two people, the liberated black who
without waiting for command had been ready to die for him, and that
unknown priest.
If I had more like them, my will would have meaning in Egypt and
beyond it, said he to himself, and he felt an inextinguishable desire
to find that priest.
He is, in all likelihood, the man who restrained the crowd from
attacking my house. On the one hand he knows law to perfection, on the
other he knows how to manage multitudes.
A man beyond price! I must have him.
From that time Ramses, in a small boat managed by one oarsman, began
to visit the cottages in the neighborhood of his villa. Dressed in a
tunic and a great wig, in his hand a staff on which a measure was cut
out, the prince looked like an engineer studying the Nile and its
overflows.
Earth-tillers gave him willingly all explanations concerning changes
in the form of land because of inundations, and at the same time they
begged that the government might think out some easier way of raising
water than by sweeps and buckets. They told too of the attack on the
house of Prince Ramses, and said that they knew not who threw the
stones. Finally they mentioned the priest who had sent the crowd away
so successfully; but who he was they knew not.
There is, said one man, a priest in our neighborhood who cures
sore eyes; there is one who heals wounds and sets broken arms and legs.
There are some priests who teach reading and writing; there is one who
plays on a double flute, and plays even beautifully. But that one who
was in the garden of the heir is not among them, and they know nothing
of him. Surely he must be the god Num, or some spirit watching over the
prince, may he live through eternity and always have appetite!
Maybe it is really some spirit, thought Ramses.
In Egypt good or evil spirits always came more easily than rain.
The water of the Nile from being ruddy became brownish, and in
August, the month of Hator, it reached one half its height. The sluices
were opened on the banks of the river, and the water began to fill the
canals quickly, and also the gigantic artificial lake, Moeris, in the
province Fayum, celebrated for the beauty of its roses. Lower Egypt
looked like an arm of the sea thickly dotted with hills on which were
houses and gardens. Communication by land ceased altogether, and such a
multitude of boats circled around on the water boats white, yellow,
red, dark that they seemed like leaves in autumn. On the highest points
of land people had finished harvesting the peculiar cotton of the
country, and for the second time had cut clover and begun to gather in
olives and tamarinds.
On a certain day, while sailing along over inundated lands, the
prince saw an unusual movement. On one of the temporary mounds was
heard among the trees the loud cry of a woman.
Surely some one is dead, thought Ramses.
From a second mound were sailing away in small boats supplies of
wheat and some cattle, while people standing at buildings on the land
threatened and abused people in the boats.
Some quarrel among neighbors, said the prince to himself.
In remoter places there was quiet, and people instead of working or
singing were sitting on the ground in silence.
They must have finished work and are resting.
But from a third mound a boat moved away with a number of crying
children, while a woman wading in the water to her waist shook her fist
and threatened.
They are taking children to school, thought Ramses.
These happenings began to interest him.
On a fourth mound he heard a fresh cry. He shaded his eyes and saw a
man lying on the ground; a negro was beating him.
What is happening there? asked Ramses of the boatman.
Does not my lord see that they are beating a wretched
earth-tiller? answered the boatman, smiling. He must have done
something, so pain is traveling through his bones.
But who art thou?
I? replied the boatman, proudly. I am a free fisherman. If I give
a certain share of my catch to his holiness, I may sail the Nile from
the sea to the cataract. A fisherman is like a fish or a wild goose;
but an earth-tiller is like a tree which nourishes lords with its fruit
and can never escape but only squeaks when overseers spoil the bark on
it.
Oho! ho! but look there! cried the fisherman, pleased again. Hei!
father, don't drink up all the water, or there will be a bad harvest.
This humorous exclamation referred to a group of persons who were
displaying a very original activity. A number of naked laborers were
holding a man by the legs and plunging him head first in the water to
his neck, to his breast, and at last to his waist. Near them stood an
overseer with a cane; he wore a stained tunic and a wig made of
sheepskin.
A little farther on some men held a woman by the arms, while she
screamed in a voice which was heaven-piercing.
Beating with a stick was as general in the happy kingdom of the
pharaoh as eating and sleeping. They beat children and grown people,
earth- tillers, artisans, warriors, officers, and officials. All living
persons were caned save only priests and the highest officials there
was no one to cane them. Hence the prince looked calmly enough on an
earth-worker beaten with a cane; but to plunge a man into water roused
his attention.
Ho! ho! laughed the boatman, meanwhile, but are they giving him
drink! He will grow so thick that his wife must lengthen his belt for
him.
The prince commanded to row to the mound. Meanwhile they had taken
the man from the river, let him cough out water, and seized him a
second time by the legs, in spite of the unearthly screams of his wife,
who fell to biting the men who had seized her.
Stop! cried Ramses to those who were dragging the earth-tiller.
Do your duty! cried he of the sheepskin wig, in nasal tones. Who
art thou, insolent, who darest.
At that moment the prince gave him a blow on the forehead with his
cane, which luckily was light. Still the owner of the stained tunic
dropped to the earth, and feeling his wig and head, looked with misty
eyes at the attacker.
I divine, said he in a natural voice, that I have the honor to
converse with a notable person. May good humor always accompany thee,
lord, and bile never spread through thy bones.
What art Thou doing to this man? interrupted Ramses.
Thou inquirest, returned the man, speaking again in nasal tones,
like a foreigner unacquainted with the customs of the country and the
people, to whom he speaks too freely. Know, then, that I am the
collector of his worthiness Dagon, the first banker in Memphis. And if
Thou hast not grown pale yet, know that the worthy Dagon is the agent
and the friend of the erpatr, may he live through eternity! and that
Thou hast committed violence on the lands of Prince Ramses; to this my
people will testify.
Then know this, interrupted the prince; but he stopped suddenly.
By what right art Thou torturing in this way one of the prince's
earth- tillers?
Because he will not pay his rent, and the treasury of the heir is
in need of it.
The servants of the official, in view of the catastrophe which had
come on their master, dropped their victim and stood as helpless as the
members of a body from which its head has been severed. The liberated
man began to spit again and shake the water out of his ears, but his
wife rushed up to the rescuer.
Whoever Thou art, groaned she, clasping her hands before Ramses,
a god, or even a messenger of the pharaoh, listen to the tale of our
sufferings. We are earth-tillers of the heir to the throne, may he live
through eternity! and we have paid all our dues: in millet, in wheat,
in flowers, and in skins of cattle. But in the last ten days this man
here has come and commands us again to give seven measures of wheat to
him. 'By what right?' asks my husband; 'the rents are paid, all of
them.' But he throws my husband on the ground, stamps, and says, 'By
this right, that the worthy Dagon has commanded.' 'Whence shall I get
wheat,' asks my husband, 'when we have none and for a month past we
have eaten only seeds, or roots of lotus, which are harder and harder
to get, for great lords like to amuse themselves with flowers of the
lotus?'
She lost breath and fell to weeping. The prince waited patiently
till she calmed herself, but the man who had been plunged into the
water grumbled.
This woman will bring misfortune with her talk. I have said that I
do not like to see women meddle.
Meanwhile the official, pushing up to the boatman, asked in an
undertone, indicating Ramses,
Who is this?
Ah, may thy tongue wither! answered the boatman. Dost Thou not
see that he must be a great lord: he pays well and strikes heavily.
I saw at once, answered the official, that he must be some great
person. My youth passed at feasts with noted persons.
Aha! the sauces have stuck to thy dress after those feasts,
blurted out the boatman.
The woman, after crying, continued,
Today this scribe came with his people, and said to my husband, 'If
Thou hast not money, give thy two sons. The worthy Dagon will not only
forgive thee the rent, but will pay thee a drachma a year for each
boy.'
Woe to me because of thee! roared the half-drowned husband; Thou
wilt destroy us all with thy babbling. Do not listen to her, continued
he, turning to Ramses. As a cow thinks that she frightens off flies
with her tail, so it seems to a woman that she can drive away
collectors with her tongue; and neither cow nor woman knows that she is
stupid.
Thou art stupid! said the woman. Sun-like lord with the form of a
pharaoh.
I call to witness that this woman blasphemes, said the official to
his people in a low voice.
Odorous flower, whose voice is like a flute, listen to me!
implored the woman of Ramses. Then my husband answered this official,
'I would rather lose two bulls, if I had them, than give my boys away,
though Thou wert to give me four drachmas; for when a boy leaves home
for service no one ever sees him after that.'.
Would that I were choked! would that fish were eating my body in
the bottom of the Nile! groaned the earth-tiller. Thou wilt destroy
all our house with thy complaints, woman.
The official, seeing that he had the support of the side mainly
interested, stepped forth and began, in nasal tones, a second time,
Since the sun rises beyond the palace of the pharaoh and sets over
the pyramids, various wonders have happened in this country. In the
days of the Pharaoh Sememphes marvelous things appeared near the
pyramid of Kochom, and a plague fell on Egypt. In the time of Boetus
the ground opened near Bubastis and swallowed many people. In the reign
of Neferches the waters of the Nile for eleven days were as sweet as
honey. Men saw these and many other things of which I know, for I am
full of wisdom. But never has it been seen that some unknown man came
up out of the water and stopped the collection of rent in the lands of
the heir to the throne of Egypt.
Be silent, shouted Ramses, and be off out of this place! No one
will take thy children, said he to the woman.
It is easy for me to go away, said the collector, for I have a
swift boat and five rowers. But, worthiness, give me some sign for my
lord Dagon.
Take off thy wig and show him the sign on thy forehead, said
Ramses. And tell Dagon that I will put marks of the same kind all over
his body.
Listen to that blasphemy! whispered the collector to his men,
drawing back toward the bank with low bows.
He sat down in the boat, and when his assistants had moved off and
pushed away some tens of yards, he stretched out his hand and shouted,
May gripe seize thy intestines, blasphemer, rebel! From here I will
go straight to Prince Ramses and tell him what is happening on his
lands.
Then he took his cane and belabored his men because they had not
taken part with him.
So it will be with thee! cried he to Ramses.
The prince sprang into his boat and in a rage commanded the boatman
to pursue the insolent servant of the usurer. But he of the sheepskin
wig threw down the cane, took an oar himself, and his men helped him so
well that pursuit became impossible.
Sooner could an owl overtake a lark than we overtake them, my
beautiful lord, cried the prince's boatman, laughing. But who art
thou? Thou art not a surveyor, but an officer, maybe even an officer of
the guard of his holiness. Thou dost strike right always on the
forehead! I know about this; I was five years in the army. I always
struck on the forehead or the belly, and I had not the worst time in
the world. But if any one struck me, I understood right away that he
must be a great person. In our Egypt may the gods never leave the land!
it is terribly crowded; town is near town, house is near house, man is
near man. Whoso wishes to turn in this throng must strike in the
forehead.
Art Thou married? asked the prince.
Pfu! when I have a woman and place for a person and a half, I am
married; but for the rest of the time I am single. I have been in the
army, and I know that a woman is good, though not at all times. She is
in the way often.
Perhaps Thou wouldst come to me for service? Who knows, wouldst
Thou be sorry to work for me?
With permission, worthiness, I noticed that Thou couldst lead a
regiment in spite of thy young face. But I enter the service of no man.
I am a free fisherman; my grandfather was, with permission, a shepherd
in Lower Egypt, our family comes of the Hyksos people. It is true that
dull Egyptian earth-tillers revile us, but I laugh at them. The earth-tillers and the Hyksos, I say, worthiness, are like an ox and a bull.
The earth-tiller may go behind the plough or before it, but the Hyksos
will not serve any man, unless in the army of his holiness, that is
warrior life.
The boatman was in the vein and talked continually, but the prince
heard no longer. In his soul very painful questions grew louder and
louder, for they were new altogether. Were those mounds, then, around
which he had been sailing, on his property? A marvelous thing, he knew
not at all where his lands were nor what they looked like. So in his
name Dagon had imposed new rents on the people, and the active movement
on which he had been looking while moving along the shores was the
extortion of rents. It was clear that the man whom they had been
beating on the shore had nothing to pay with. The children who were
crying bitterly in the boat were sold at a drachma per head for a
twelvemonth, and that woman who was wading in the water to her waist
and weeping was their mother.
Women are very unquiet, said the prince to himself. Sarah is the
quietest woman; but others love to talk much, to cry and raise an
uproar.
He remembered the man who was pacifying his wife's excitement. They
had been plunging him into the water and he was not angry; they did
nothing to her, and still she made an uproar.
Women are very unquiet! repeated be. Yes, even my mother, who is
worthy of honor. What a difference between her and my father! His
holiness does not wish to know at all that I left the army for a girl,
but the queen likes to occupy herself even with this, that I took into
my house a Jewess. Sarah is the quietest of women whom I know; but
Tafet cries and makes an uproar for four persons.
Then the prince recalled the words of the man's wife, that for a
month they had not eaten wheat, only seeds and roots of lotus. Lotus
and poppy seeds are similar; the roots are poor. He could not eat them
for three days in succession. Moreover, the priests who were occupied
in medicine advised change of diet. While in school they told him that
a man ought to eat flesh with fish, dates with wheat bread, figs with
barley. But for a whole month to live on lotus seeds! Well, cows and
horses? Cows and horses like hay, but barley straw must be shoved into
their throats by force. Surely then earth-workers prefer lotus seeds as
food, while wheat or barley cakes, fish and flesh they do not relish.
For that matter, the most pious priests, wonderworkers, never touch
flesh or fish. Evidently magnates and king's sons need flesh, just as
lions and eagles do; but earth-tillers grass, like an ox.
Only that plunging into the water to pay rent. Ei! but didn't he
once in bathing with his comrades put them under water, and even dive
himself? What laughing they had in those days! Diving was fun. And as
to beating with a cane, how many times had they beaten him in school?
It is painful, but evidently not for every creature. A beaten dog howls
and bites; a beaten ox does not even look around. So beating may pain a
great lord, but a common man cries only so as to cry when the chance
comes. Not all cry; soldiers and officers sing while belabored.
But these wise reflections could not drown the small but annoying
disquiet in the heart of Ramses. So his tenant Dagon had imposed an
unjust rent which the tenants could not pay!
At this moment the prince was not concerned about the tenants, but
his mother. His mother must know of this Phoenician management. What
would she say about it to her son? How she would look at him! How
sneeringly she would laugh! And she would not be a woman if she did not
speak to him as follows: I told thee, Ramses, that Phoenicians would
desolate thy property.
If those traitorous priests, thought the prince, would give me
twenty talents today, I would drive out that Dagon in the morning, my
tenants would not be plunged under water, would not suffer blows, and
my mother would not jeer at me. A tenth, a hundredth part of that
wealth which is lying in the temples and feeding the greedy eyes of
those bare heads would make me independent for years of Phoenicians.
Just then an idea which was strange enough flashed up in the soul of
Ramses, that between priests and earth-tillers there existed a certain
opposition.
Through Herhor, thought he, that man hanged himself on the edge
of the desert. To maintain priests and temples about two million
Egyptian men toil grievously. If the property of the priests belonged
to the pharaoh's treasury, I should not have to borrow fifteen talents
and my people would not be oppressed so terribly. There is the source
of misfortunes for Egypt and of weakness for its pharaohs!
The prince felt that a wrong was done the people; therefore he
experienced no small solace in discovering that priests were the
authors of this evil. It did not occur to him that his judgment might
be unjust and faulty. Besides, he did not judge, he was only indignant.
The anger of a man never turns against himself, just as a hungry
panther never eats its own body; it twirls its tail and moves its ears
while looking for a victim.
CHAPTER XIII
The expedition of the heir to the throne, undertaken with the object
of discovering the priest who had saved Sarah and had given him legal
advice, had a result that was unexpected.
The priest was not discovered, but among Egyptian earth-tillers
legends began to circulate which concerned Ramses.
Some mysterious man sailed about from village to village and told
the people that the heir to the throne freed the men who were in danger
of condemnation to the quarries for attacking his dwelling. Besides, he
had beaten down an official who was extorting unjust rent from tenants.
Finally, the unknown person added that Prince Ramses was under the
special guardianship of Amon, who was his father.
Simple people listened to these tidings eagerly, first, because they
agreed with facts, second, because the man who told the story was
himself like a spirit it was not known whence he came nor whither he
had vanished.
Prince Ramses made no mention whatever of his tenants to Dagon; he
did not even summon him. He felt ashamed in presence of the Phoenician
from whom he had taken money and might require money yet more than one
time.
But a few days after the adventure with Dagon's scribe the banker
came himself to the heir, holding in his hand some covered object.
On entering the prince's chamber he bent down, untied a white
kerchief, and drew forth from it a very beautiful gold goblet; the
goblet was set with stones of various colors, and covered with carving
in relief which on the lower part represented the gathering and
pressing out of grapes and on the cup part a feast.
Accept this goblet, worthy lord, from thy slave, said the banker,
and use it for a hundred, a thousand years, to the end of ages.
The prince understood what the Phoenician wanted; so, without
touching the golden gift, he said with a stern expression,
Dost Thou see, Dagon, that purple reflection inside the goblet?
I do, indeed, replied the banker; why should I not see that which
shows the goblet to be the purest gold?
But I declare that to be the blood of children seized away from
their parents, said the heir, angrily.
And he turned and went to an interior chamber.
O Astoreth! groaned the Phoenician.
His lips grew blue, and his hands trembled so that he was hardly
able to wrap up the goblet.
A couple of days later Dagon sailed down with his goblet to Sarah's
house. He was arrayed in robes interwoven with gold; in his thick beard
were glass globulets from which issued perfumes, and he had fastened
two plumes to his head.
Beautiful Sarah, began he, may Jehovah pour on thy family as many
blessings as there are waters in the Nile at present! We Phoenicians
and ye Jews are brethren and neighbors. I am inflamed with such ardor
of love for thee that didst Thou not belong to our most worthy lord I
would give Gideon ten talents for thee, and would take thee for my
lawful wife. So enamored am I.
May God preserve me, answered Sarah, from wanting another lord
beyond the one who is mine at this moment. But whence, worthy Dagon,
did the desire come to thee today of visiting our lord's servant?
I will tell thee the truth, as if Thou wert Tamara, my wife, who, a
real daughter of Sidon, though she brought me a large dowry, is old now
and not worthy to take off thy sandals.
In the honey flowing from thy lips there is much wormwood, put in
Sarah.
Let the honey, replied Dagon, sitting down, be for thee and let
the wormwood poison my heart. Our lord Prince Ramses may he live
through eternity! has the mouth of a lion and the keenness of a
vulture. He has seen fit to rent his estate to me. This has filled my
stomach with delight; but he does not trust me, so I lay awake whole
nights from anxiety, I only sigh and cover my bed with tears, in which
bed would that Thou wert resting with me, O Sarah, instead of my wife
Tamara, who cannot rouse desire in me any longer.
That is not what Thou wishest to say, interrupted the blushing
Sarah.
I know not what I wish to say, since I have looked on thee, and
since our lord, examining my activity on his estates, struck with a
cane and took health from my scribe who was collecting dues there from
tenants. And these dues were not for me. Sarah, but for our lord. It is
not I who will eat the figs and wheaten bread from those lands, but
Thou and our lord. I have given money to our lord and jewels to thee.
Why then should the low Egyptian rabble impoverish our lord and thee,
Sarah? To show how greatly Thou rousest my desire and that from these
estates I wish nothing but reserve all for thee and our lord, I give
this goblet of pure gold set with jewels and covered with carving at
which the gods themselves would be astonished.
Then Dagon drew forth from the cloth the goblet refused by Prince
Ramses.
I do not even wish that Thou shouldst have the goblet in the house
and give the prince to drink from it. Give this goblet of pure gold to
Gideon, whom I love as my own brother. And thou, Sarah, tell thy father
these words: 'Thy twin brother Dagon, the unfortunate tenant on the
lands of Prince Ramses, is ruined. Drink then, my father, from this
goblet, think of thy twin brother, and beg Jehovah that our lord,
Prince Ramses, may not beat his scribes, and bring to revolt tenants
who even now have no wish to pay tribute? And know this, Sarah, that if
Thou wouldst admit me to confidence I would give thee two talents, and
thy father one talent, and, besides, I should be ashamed of giving thee
so little, for Thou deservest that the pharaoh himself should fondle
thee, and the heir of the throne, and the worthy minister Herhor, and
the most valiant Nitager, and the richest bankers of the Phoenicians.
There is such a taste in thee that I grow faint when I gaze at thee,
and when I see thee not, I close my eyes and lick my lips. Thou art
sweeter than figs, more fragrant than roses. I would give thee five
talents. Take this goblet, Sarah.
Sarah drew back with drooping eyes.
I will not take the goblet, answered she; my lord forbade me to
take gifts from any one.
Dagon was astonished, and looked with widely opened eyes at her.
Then it must be that Thou knowest not, Sarah, the value of this
goblet. But I give it to thy father, who is my brother.
I cannot take it, whispered Sarah.
Oh! cried Dagon. Then thou, Sarah, wilt pay me for this goblet in
another way, without speaking to thy lord. But a woman as beautiful as
Thou must have gold and jewels, and should have her own banker to bring
her money when she pleases, not alone when her lord likes.
I cannot! whispered Sarah, without concealing her repulsion for
the banker.
The Phoenician changed his tone in the twinkle of an eye, and said
laughing,
Very good, Sarah! I only wished to convince myself that Thou art
faithful to our lord. I see that Thou art faithful, though foolish, as
people say.
What? burst out Sarah, rushing at Dagon with clinched fist.
Ha! ha! laughed the Phoenician. What a pity that our lord could
not hear and see thee this moment! But I will tell him, when he is in
good humor, that Thou art not only as faithful as a dog to him, but
even that Thou wouldst not accept a gold goblet because he has not
permitted thee to take presents. And this goblet, believe me, Sarah,
has tempted more than one woman, and women who were not of small
importance.
Dagon sat awhile admiring the virtue and obedience of Sarah; at last
he took farewell of her with much feeling, sat down in his tented boat,
and sailed away toward Memphis. When the boat had pushed off from the
country house, the smile vanished from the banker's face, and an
expression of anger came out thereon. When Sarah's house was hidden
behind the trees, Dagon stood up and raised his hands.
O Baal of Sidon, O Astoreth! said he, avenge my insult on this
cursed daughter of a Jew. Let her treacherous beauty perish as a drop
of rain in the desert! May disease devour her body, and madness bind
her soul! May her lord hunt her out of his house like a mangy swine!
And as today she pushed my goblet aside, may the hour come when people
will push her withered hand aside, when in thirst she begs them for a
cup of dirty water.
Then he spat and muttered words with hidden and dreadful meaning; a
black cloud covered the sun for a while, and the water near the side of
the boat began to grow muddy and rise in a mighty wave. When he
finished, the sun had grown bright again; but the river was disturbed,
as if a new inundation were moving it.
Dagon's rowers were frightened, and ceased their singing; but
separated from their master by the side of the boat, they could not see
his ceremonies.
Thenceforth the Phoenician did not appear before Prince Ramses. But
on a certain day when the prince came to his residence, he found in his
bedchamber a beautiful Phoenician dancer, sixteen years of age, whose
entire dress was a golden circlet on her head, and a shawl, as delicate
as spider webs, thrown across her shoulders.
Who art thou? asked the prince.
I am a priestess, and thy servant; the lord Dagon has sent me to
frighten away thy auger against him.
How wilt Thou do that?
Oh, in this way sit down there, said she, seating him in an
armchair. I will stand on tiptoe, so as to grow taller than thy anger,
and with this shawl, which is sacred, I will drive evil spirits from
thee. A kish! a kish! whispered she, dancing in a circle. Ramses, let
my hands remove gloom from thy hair, let my kisses bring back to thy
eyes their bright glances. Let the beating of my heart fill thy ears
with music, lord of Egypt. A kish! a kish! he is not yours, but mine.
Love demands such silence that in its presence even anger must grow
still.
While dancing, she played with the prince's hair, put her arms
around his neck, kissed him on the eyes. At last she sat down wearied
at his feet, and, resting her head on his knees, turned her face toward
him quickly, panting with parted lips.
Thou art no longer angry with thy servant Dagon? whispered she,
stroking his face.
Ramses wished to kiss her on the lips, but she sprang away from his
knees, crying,
Oh, that is not possible!
Why so?
I am a virgin and priestess of the great goddess Astoreth. Thou
wouldst have to love my guardian goddess greatly, and honor her before
Thou couldst kiss me.
But is it permitted thee?
All things are permitted me, for I am a priestess, and have sworn
to preserve my virginity.
Why hast Thou come hither, then?
To drive out thy anger. I have done so, I depart. Be well and kind
always, added she, with a piercing glance.
Where dost Thou dwell? What is thy name? asked Ramses.
My name is Fondling, and I dwell Ei, why should I tell? Thou wilt
not come soon to me.
She waved her hand and vanished. The prince, as if stunned, did not
move from his chair. When after a while he looked through the window,
he saw a rich litter which four Nubians bore toward the Nile swiftly.
Ramses was not sorry for the departing woman; she astonished, but
did not attract him.
Sarah is calmer, thought he, and more beautiful. Moreover, it
seems to me that that Phoenician must be cold, and her fondlings are
studied.
But from that time the prince ceased to be angry at Dagon, all the
more since on a day when he was at Sarah's earth-tillers came to him,
and thanking him for protection declared that the Phoenician forced
them to pay new rents no longer.
That was the case close to Memphis, but on other lands the prince's
tenants made good Dagon's losses.
CHAPTER XIV
In the month of Choeak (from the middle of September to the middle
of October), the waters of the Nile were highest, and began to fall
slightly. In the gardens people gathered tamarinds, dates, olives; and
trees blossomed a second time.
At this juncture his holiness Ramses XII left his sun-bright palace
in Memphis, and with a grand suite on some tens of stately barges
sailed to Thebes, to thank the gods there for the bounteous inundation,
and also to place offerings oil the tombs of his eternally living
ancestors.
The most worthy ruler took farewell of his heir very graciously; but
the direction of state affairs during his absence he left with Herhor.
Ramses felt this proof of want of confidence so greatly that for
three days he took no food and did not leave his villa; he only wept.
Later he ceased to shave, and transferred himself to Sarah's house, so
as not to meet Herhor or annoy his own mother, whom he considered the
cause of his failures.
On the following day Tutmosis visited him in this retreat, bringing
two boats filled with musicians and dancers, and a third containing
baskets of food and flowers, with pitchers of wine. But the prince
commanded the musicians and dancers to depart, and taking Tutmosis to
the garden, he said,
Of course my mother may she live through eternity! sent thee to
separate me from the Jewess? Tell her worthiness that were Herhor to
become not merely viceroy, but the son of my father, I should do that
which pleases me. I know how to do it. Today they wish to deprive me of
Sarah, and to-morrow they would take my power from me; I will show them
that I shall not renounce anything.
The prince was irritated. Tutmosis shrugged his shoulders, and
remarked finally,
As a whirlwind sweeps a bird into a desert, so does anger cast a
man on the shores of injustice. How canst Thou wonder if the priests
are displeased because the heir to the throne has connected his life
with a woman of another country and a strange religion? Sarah does not
please them, especially since Thou hast her alone. Hadst Thou a number
of various women, like all noble youths, they would not mind the
Jewess. But have they done her harm? No. On the contrary, even some
priest defended her against a raging crowd which it pleased thee to
liberate from imprisonment.
But my mother?
Tutmosis laughed.
Thy worthy mother loves thee as her own eyes and heart. Of course
Sarah does not please her, either, but dost Thou know what her
worthiness said once to me? This, that I should entice Sarah from thee.
What a jest on her part! To this I answered with a second jest: 'Ramses
has given me a brace of hunting dogs and two Syrian horses because he
has grown tired of them; perhaps some day he will give me his mistress
too, of course I shall have to take her with other things.'.
Do not think of it. I would not give Sarah to any man, were it only
for this, because of her my father has not appointed me viceroy.
Tutmosis shook his head.
Thou art greatly mistaken, answered he, so much mistaken that I
am terrified. Dost Thou not really understand the causes of the
disfavor? Every enlightened Egyptian knows them.
I know nothing.
So much the worse, said the anxious Tutmosis. Thou dost not know,
then, that warriors, since the maneuvers, especially Greek warriors,
drink thy health in every dramshop.
They got money to do so.
True; but not to cry out, with all the voice that is in them, that
when Thou shalt succeed to his holiness may he live through eternity!
Thou wilt begin a great war, after which there will be changes in
Egypt.
What changes? And who is the man who during the life of the pharaoh
may dare to speak of the plans of his successor?
Now the prince grew gloomy.
That is one thing, but I will tell thee another, said, Tutmosis,
for misfortunes, like hyenas, never come singly. Dost Thou know that
the lowest people sing songs about thee, sing how Thou didst free the
attackers from prison, and what is worse, they repeat again, that, when
Thou shalt succeed his holiness, rents will be abolished. It must be
added that when common people speak of injustice and rents,
disturbances follow; and either a foreign enemy attacks our weakened
state, or Egypt is divided into as many parts as there are nomarchs.
Finally, judge for thyself, is it proper that any man's name should be
mentioned oftener than the pharaoh's, and that any man should stand
between the people and our lord? If Thou permit, I will tell how
priests look on this matter.
Of course, speak.
Well, a very wise priest who from the summit of the temple of Amon
examines celestial movements, has thought out this statement: 'The
pharaoh is the sun, the heir to the throne the moon. When the moon
follows the god of light from afar, we have brightness in the daytime
and clearness at night. When the moon wishes to be too near the sun, it
disappears itself and the nights are dark. But if the moon stands
before the sun there is an eclipse, and in the world great terror '.
And all this babble, interrupted Ramses, goes to the ears of his
holiness. Misfortune on my head! Would that I had never been the son of
a pharaoh!
The pharaoh, as a god upon earth, knows everything; but he is too
mighty to care for the drunken shouts of soldiers or the whispers of
earth tillers. He understands that every Egyptian would die for him,
and Thou first of all.
Thou hast spoken truth! answered the anxious prince. But in all
this I see new vileness and deceit of the priests, added he, rousing
himself. It is I, then, who hide the majesty of our lord, because I
free the innocent from prison, or do not let my tenant torture earth-workers with unjust tribute. But when his worthiness Herhor manages the
army, appoints leaders, negotiates with foreign princes, and directs my
father to spend his time in prayers.
Tutmosis covered his ears, and, stamping, cried, Be silent! be
silent! every word of thine is blasphemy. His holiness alone directs
the state, and whatever is done on earth proceeds from his will. Herhor
is a servant of the pharaoh and does what his lord enjoins on him. If
Thou wilt convince thyself oh, that my words be not ill understood.
The prince grew so gloomy that Tutmosis broke off the conversation
and took farewell of his friend at the earliest. When he sat down in
his boat, which was furnished with a baldachin and curtains, he drew a
deep breath and draining a large goblet of wine, thought,
Brr! I thank the gods for not giving me such a character as that
which Ramses has. He is a most unhappy man in the happiest conditions.
He might have the most beautiful women in Memphis, but he sticks to one
to annoy his mother. Meanwhile it is not his mother that he annoys, but
all the virtuous virgins and faithful wives who are withering from
sadness that the heir to the throne, and moreover a youth of great
comeliness, does not snatch from them virtue or force them to
unfaithfulness. He might not only drink but even swim in the best wine;
meanwhile he prefers the wretched camp beer, and bread rubbed with
garlic. Whence came these low inclinations? I cannot imagine. Or was it
that the worthy Nikotris in her critical period looked at workmen while
they were eating?
He might do nothing from daylight till darkness. If he wished, the
most famous lords, with their wives, sisters, and daughters, would
serve food to him. He not only stretches forth his own hands to take
food, but, to the torment of our noble youths, he washes himself,
dresses himself, and his barber spends whole days in snaring birds and
thus wastes his abilities.
O Ramses, Ramses! sighed the exquisite. Is it possible that
fashion should be developed in the time of such a prince? We wear the
same aprons from one year to another, and we retain wigs, only thanks
to court dignitaries, for Ramses will not wear any wig. This is a great
offence to the whole order of nobles. And all brought about by cursed
politics, brr! Oh, how happy I am that I need not divine what they are
thinking of in Tyre or Nineveh; break my head over wages for the army;
calculate how many people have been added to Egypt or taken from it,
and what rents must be collected. It is a terrible thing to say to
one's self, 'My tenant does not pay what I need and expend, but what
the increase of the Nile permits.'.
Thus meditated the exquisite Tutmosis, while he strengthened his
anxious soul with golden wine. Before the boat had sailed up to
Memphis, heavy sleep had mastered him in such wise that his slaves had
to carry their lord to the litter.
After the departure of Tutmosis, which resembled a flight, the heir
fell to thinking deeply; he even felt fear.
Ramses was a skeptic. As a pupil of the priests, and a member of the
highest aristocracy, he knew that when certain priests had fasted many
months and mortified their senses they summoned spirits, while others
spoke of spirits as a fancy, a deception. He had seen, too, that Apis,
the sacred bull before which all Egypt fell prostrate, received at
times heavy blows of a cane from inferior priests, who gave the beast
food and brought cows to him.
He understood, finally, that his father, Ramses XII, who for the
common crowd was a god who lived through eternity, and the
all-commanding lord of this world, was really just such a person as
others, only a little more weakly than ordinary old men, and very much
limited in power by the priestly order.
The prince saw all this, and jeered in his soul and even la public
at many things. But all his infidelity fell before the actual truth,
that no one was permitted to trifle with the titles of the pharaoh.
Ramses knew the history of his country, and he remembered that in
Egypt many things were forgiven the mighty. A great lord might ruin a
canal, kill a man in secret, revile the gods privately, take presents
from ambassadors of foreign states, but two sins were not forgiven, the
betrayal of priestly secrets, and treason to the pharaoh. A man who
committed one or the other disappeared, sometimes after a year, from
among his friends and servants. But where he had been put or what had
been done with him, no one even dared to mention.
Ramses felt that he was on an incline of this sort from the time
that the army and the people began to mention his name and speak of
certain plans of his, changes in the state, future wars. Thinking of
this, the prince felt as if a nameless crowd of rebels and unfortunates
were pushing him violently to the point of the highest obelisk, from
which he must tumble down and be crushed into jelly.
Later on, when, after the longest life of his father possible, he
became pharaoh, he would have the right and the means to accomplish
many deeds of which no one in Egypt could even think without terror.
But today he must in truth have a care, lest they declare him a traitor
and a rebel against the fundamental laws of Egypt. In that state there
was one visible ruler, the pharaoh. He governed, he desired, he thought
for all, and woe to the man who dared to doubt audibly the all-might of
the sovereign, or mention plans of his own, or even changes in general.
Plans were made in one place alone, in that hall where the pharaoh
listened to advice from his aiding council, and expressed to it his own
opinions. No changes could come save from that place. There burned the
only visible lamp of political wisdom, the light of which illuminated
Egypt. But touching that light, it was safer to be silent.
All these considerations flew through the prince's head with the
swiftness of a whirlwind while he was sitting on the stone bench under
the chestnut-tree in Sarah's garden, and looking at the landscape there
around him.
The water of the Nile had fallen a little, and had begun to grow as
transparent as a crystal. But the whole country looked yet like an arm
of the sea thickly dotted with islands on which rose buildings,
gardens, and orchards, while here and there groups of great trees
served as ornament.
Around all these islands were well-sweeps, with buckets by which
bronze-hued naked men with dirty breech clouts raised water from the
Nile and poured it into higher reservoirs. One such place was in the
prince's mind especially. That was a steep eminence on the side of
which three men were working at three well-sweeps. One poured water
from the river into the lowest well; another drew from the lowest and
raised water two yards higher to a middle place; the third raised water
from the middle to the highest place. There some people, also naked,
drew water in buckets, and irrigated beds of vegetables, or watered
trees from sprinkling-pots.
The movement of the sweeps going down and rising, the turn of the
buckets, the gushing of the pots was so rhythmic that the men who
caused it might be thought automatons. No one of them spoke to his
neighbor, no man changed place or looked about him; he merely bent and
rose in one single method from daylight until evening, from one month
to another, and doubtless he had worked thus from childhood and would
so work till death took him.
And creatures such as these, thought the prince, as he looked at
their toil, desire me to realize their imaginings. What change in the
state can they wish? Is it that he who draws from the lowest well
should go to the highest, or instead of pouring from a bucket should
sprinkle trees with a watering pot?
Anger rose to his head, and humiliation crushed him because he, the
heir to the throne, thanks to the fables of creatures like those who
nodded all their lives over wells of dirty water, was not now the vice-pharaoh.
At that moment he heard a low rustle among the trees, and delicate
hands rested on his shoulder.
Well, Sarah? asked the prince, without turning his head.
Thou art sad, my lord. Moses was not so delighted at sight of the
promised land as I was at those words of thine:
I am coming to live with thee. But Thou art a day and a night here,
and I have not seen thy smile yet. Thou dost not even speak to me, but
goest about in gloom, and at night Thou dost not fondle me, but only
sighest.
I have trouble.
Tell me what it is. Grief is like a treasure given to be guarded.
As long as we guard it ourselves even sleep flees away, and we find
relief only when we put some one else to watch for us.
Ramses embraced Sarah, and seated her on the bench at his side.
When an earth-tiller, said he, smiling, is unable to bring in all
his crops from the field before the overflow, his wife helps him. She
helps him to milk cows too, she takes out food to the field for him,
she washes the man on his return from labor. Hence the belief has come
that woman can lighten man's troubles.
Dost Thou not believe this, lord?
The cares of a prince, answered Ramses, cannot be lightened by a
woman, even by one as wise and powerful as my mother.
In God's name, what are thy troubles? Tell me, insisted Sarah,
drawing up to the shoulder of Prince Ramses. According to our
traditions, Adam left Paradise for Eve; and he was surely the greatest
king in the most beautiful kingdom.
The prince became thoughtful.
Our sages also teach, said he, that man has often abandoned
dignities for woman, but it has not been heard that any man ever
achieved something great through a woman; unless he was a leader to
whom a pharaoh gave his daughter, with a great dowry and high office.
But a woman cannot help a man to reach a higher place or even help him
out of troubles.
This may be because she does not love as I do, whispered Sarah.
Thy love for me is wonderful, I know that. Never hast Thou asked
for gifts, or favored those who do not hesitate to seek success even
under the beds of princes' favorites. Thou art milder than a lamb, and
as calm as a night on the Nile. Thy kisses are like perfume from the
land of Punt, and thy embrace as sweet as the sleep of a wearied
laborer. I have no measure for thy beauty, or words for thy
attractions. Thou art a marvel among women; women's lips are rich in
trouble and their love is very costly. But with all thy perfection how
canst Thou ease my troubles? Canst Thou cause his holiness to order a
great expedition to the East and name me to command it? Canst Thou give
me the army corps in Memphis, for which I asked, or wilt thou, in the
pharaoh's name, make me governor of Lower Egypt? Or canst Thou bring
all subjects of his holiness to think and feel as I, his most devoted
subject? Sarah dropped her hands on her knees, and whispered sadly,
True, I cannot do those things I can do nothing.
Thou canst do much. Thou canst cheer me, replied Ramses, smiling.
I know that Thou hast learned to dance and sing. Take off those long
robes, therefore, which become priestesses guarding fire, and array
thyself in transparent muslin, as Phoenician dancers do. And so dance
and fondle me as they.
Sarah seized his hands and cried with flaming eyes,
Hast Thou to do with outcasts such as these? Tell me let me know my
wretchedness; send me then to my father, send me to our valley in the
desert. Oh, that I had never seen thee in it!
Well, well, calm thyself, said the prince, toying with her hair.
I must of course see dancers, if not at feasts, at royal festivals, or
during services in temples. But all of them together do not concern me
as much as Thou alone; moreover, who among them could equal thee? Thy
body is like a statue of Isis, cut out of ivory, and each of those
dancers has some defect. Some are too thick; others have thin legs or
ugly hands; still others have false hair. Who of them is like thee? If
Thou wert an Egyptian, all our temples would strive to possess thee as
the leader of their chorus. What do I say? Wert Thou to appear now in
Memphis in transparent robes, the priests would be glad if Thou wouldst
take part in processions.
It is not permitted us daughters of Judah to wear immodest
garments.
Nor to dance or sing? Why didst Thou learn, then?
Our women dance, and our virgins sing by themselves for the glory
of the Lord, but not for the purpose of sowing fiery seeds of desire in
men's hearts. But we sing. Wait, my lord, I will sing to thee.
She rose from the bench and went toward the house. Soon she returned
followed by a young girl with black, frightened eyes, who was bearing a
harp.
Who is this maiden? asked the prince. But wait I have seen that
look somewhere. Ah! when I was here the last time a frightened girl
looked from the bushes at me.'
This is Esther, my relative and servant, answered Sarah. She has
lived with me a mouth now, but she fears thee, lord, so she runs away
always. Perhaps she looked at thee sometime from out the bushes.
Thou mayst go, my child, said the prince to the maiden, who seemed
petrified, and when she had hidden behind the bushes, he asked,
Is she a Jewess too? And this guard of thy house, who looks at me
as a sheep at a crocodile?
That is Samuel the son of Esdras; he also is a relative. I took him
in place of the black man to whom Thou hast given freedom. But hast
Thou not permitted me to choose my servants?
That is true. And so also the overseer of the workmen is a Jew, for
he has a yellow complexion and looks with a lowliness which no Egyptian
could imitate.
That, answered Sarah, is Ezechiel, the son of Reuben, a relative
of my father. Does he not please thee, my lord? These are all thy very
faithful servants.
Does he please me, said the prince, dissatisfied, drumming with
his fingers on the bench. He is not here to please me, but to guard
thy property. For that matter, these people do not concern me. Sing,
Sarah.
Sarah knelt on the grass at the prince's feet, and playing a few
notes as accompaniment, began,
Where is he who has no care? Who is he who in lying down to slumber
has the right to say: This is a day that I have spent without sorrow?
Where is the man who lying down for the grave, can say: My life has
passed without pain, without fear, like a calm evening on the Jordan.
But how many are there who moisten their bread with tears daily,
and whose houses are filled with sighing.
A wail is man's earliest speech on this earth, and a groan his
farewell to it. Full of suffering does he come into life, full of
sorrow does he go to his resting-place, and no one asks him where he
would like to be.
Where is that offspring of man who has not tasted the bitterness of
being? Is it the child which death has snatched from its mother, or is
it the babe whose mother's breast was drained by hunger ere the little
one could place lips to it?
Where is the man who is sure of his fate, the man who can look with
unfailing eye at the morrow? Does he who toils on the field know that
rain is not under his power, and that not he shows its way to the
locust swarm? Does the merchant who gives his wealth to the winds,
which come he knows not whence, and his life to the waves on that abyss
which swallows all, and returns nothing?
Where is the man without dread in his spirit? Is it the hunter who
chases the nimble deer and on the road meets a lion which mocks at his
arrows? Is it the warrior who goes forth to gain glory with toiling,
and meets a forest of sharp lances and bronze swords which are
thirsting for his life blood? Is it the great king who under his purple
puts on heavy armor, who spies out with sleepless eye the treachery of
overpowering neighbors, and seizes with his ear the rustle of the
curtain lest treason overturn him in his own tent?
For this reason men's hearts in all places and at all times are
overflowing with sadness. In the desert the lion and the scorpion are
his danger, in the cave lurks the dragon, among flowers the poisonous
serpent. In the sunshine a greedy neighbor is thinking how to decrease
his land, in the night the active thief is breaking through the door to
his granary. In childhood he is incompetent, in old age stripped of
strength. When full of power, he is surrounded by perils, as a whale is
surrounded by abysses of water.
Therefore, O Lord, my Creator, to Thee the tortured human soul
turns itself. Thou hast brought it into a world full of ambushes, Thou
hast grafted into it the terror of extinction. Thou hast barred before
it all roads of peace, save the one road which leads to Thee. And as a
child which cannot walk grasps its mother's skirt lest it fall, so
wretched man stretches forth his hands toward Thy tenderness, and
struggles out of uncertainty.
Sarah was silent; the prince fell into meditation, and then said,
Ye Jews are a gloomy nation. If men in Egypt believed as thy song
teaches, no one would laugh on the banks of the Nile. The wealthy would
hide in underground temples through terror, and the people, instead of
working, would flee to caves, look out and wait for mercy which would
never come to them.
Our world is different: in it a man may have everything, but he
himself must do everything. Our gods help no idleness. They come to the
earth only when a hero dares a deed which is superhuman and when he
exhausts every power present. Such was the case with Ramses the Great
when he rushed among two thousand five hundred hostile chariots, each
of which carried three warriors. Only then did Amon the eternal father
reach his hand down and end the battle with victory. But if instead of
fighting he had waited for the aid of your God, long ago would the
Egyptians have been moving along the Nile, each of them bearing a brick
and a bucket, while the vile Hittites would be masters going around
with clubs and papyruses.
Therefore, Sarah, thy charms will scatter my sorrows sooner than
thy song. If I had acted as your Jewish song teaches, and waited for
divine assistance, wine would have flowed away from my lips, and women
would have fled from my household.
Above all, I could not be the pharaoh's heir any more than my
brothers, one of whom does not leave his room without leaning on two
slaves, while the other climbs along tree trunks.
CHAPTER XV
THE next day Ramses sent his black men with commands to Memphis, and
about midday came a great boat toward Sarah's house from the direction
of the city. The boat was filled with Greek soldiers in lofty helmets
and gleaming breastplates.
At command sixteen men armed with shields and short darts landed and
stood in two ranks. They were ready to march to the house, when a
second messenger from the prince detained them. He commanded the
soldiers to remain at the shore, and summoned only their leader,
Patrokles.
They halted and stood without movement, like two rows of columns
covered with glittering armor. After the messenger went, Patrokles in a
helmet with plumes, wearing a purple tunic over which he had gilded
armor ornamented on the breast with the picture of a woman's head
bristling with serpents instead of hair.
The prince received the famous general at the garden gate. He did
not smile as usual, did not even answer the low bow of Patrokles, but
said coldly,
Worthiness, tell the Greek warriors that I will not review them
until their lord, his holiness, appoints me leader a second time. They
have lost that honor by uttering in dramshops shouts worthy of
drunkards. These shouts offend me. I call attention also to this,
worthiness, that the Greek regiments do not show sufficient discipline.
In public places the soldiers of this corps discuss politics and a
certain possible war. This looks like treason to the state. Only the
pharaoh and members of his supreme council may speak of such matters.
But we, soldiers and servants of our lord, whatever position we occupy,
may only execute the commands of our most gracious ruler, and be silent
at all times. I beg thee to communicate these considerations to my
regiments, and I wish all success to thee, worthiness.
It will be as commanded, worthiness, answered the Greek.
He turned on his heel, and standing erect moved with a rattle toward
the boat. He knew about these discussions of the soldiers in the
dramshops, and understood straightway that something disagreeable had
happened to the heir, whom the troops worshipped. Therefore, when he
had reached the handful of armed men on the bank, he assumed a very
angry mien, and, waving his hands with rage, cried,
Valiant Greek soldiers! mangy dogs, may the leprosy consume you!
If, from this time on, any Greek mentions the name of the heir to the
throne in a dramshop, I will break a pitcher on his head, cram the
pieces down his throat, and then drive him out of the regiment! One and
another of you will herd swine for Egyptian earth-workers, and hens
will lay eggs in your helmets. Such is the fate waiting for stupid
soldiers who know not how to keep their tongues quiet. And now to the
left! to the rear! turn! and march to the boat, may the plague strike
you! A soldier of his holiness should drink first of all to the health
of the pharaoh and the prosperity of the worthy minister of war,
Herhor, may they live through eternity!
May they live through eternity! repeated the soldiers.
All took their places in the boat, looking gloomy. But when near
Memphis Patrokles smoothed out his wrinkled forehead and commanded them
to sing the song of that priest's daughter who so loved soldiers that
she put a doll in her bed and passed the whole night in the booth of
the sentries. Keeping time to this song, they always marched best, and
moved the oars with most nimbleness.
In the evening another boat approached Sarah's dwelling, out of
which came the chief steward of the prince's property.
Ramses received this official at the garden gate also. Perhaps he
did this through sternness, or perhaps not to constrain the man to
enter the house of his mistress and a Jewess.
I wished, said the heir, to see thee and to say that among my
people certain improper conversations circulate concerning decrease of
rent, or something of that kind. I wish those people to know that I
will not decrease rents. But should any man in spite of warnings
persist in his folly and talk about rents, he will receive blows of
canes.
Perhaps it would be better if he paid a fine, an uten or a drachma,
whatever is commanded, worthiness, said the chief steward.
Yes; but the worst offender might be beaten.
I make bold to offer a remark, worthiness, said the steward in a
low tone, inclining continually, that the earth-workers, roused by
some unknown person, really did talk for a time about decrease of rent.
But some days ago they ceased on a sudden.
In that case we might withhold the blows of canes, said Ramses.
Unless as preventive means, put in the steward.
Would it not be too bad to spoil the canes?
We shall never lack articles of that sort.
But with moderation in every case. I do not wish it to go to his
holiness that I torture men without need. For rebellious conversation
we must beat and take fines in money, but when there is no cause for
punishment we may be magnanimous.
I understand, answered the steward, looking into the eyes of
Ramses.
Let them cry out as much as they like if they do not whisper
blasphemy.
These talks with Patrokles and the steward were reported throughout
Egypt.
After the steward's departure, the prince yawned and looking around
with a tired glance, he said to himself,
I have done all I could, but now, if I can, I will do nothing.
At that moment, from the direction of the outhouses, low groans and
the sound of frequent blows reached the prince. Ramses turned his head,
and saw that the overseer of the workmen, Ezekiel, son of Reuben, was
beating some subordinate with a cane, pacifying him meanwhile,
Be quiet! be silent, low beast!
The beaten workman, lying on the ground, closed his mouth with his
hand so as not to cry.
At first the prince rushed like a panther toward the outhouses.
Suddenly he halted.
What am I to do? whispered he. This is Sarah's place, and the Jew
is her relative.
He bit his lips, and disappeared among the trees, the more readily
since the flogging was finished.
Is this the management of the humble Jews? thought Ramses. Is
this the way? That man looks at me as a frightened dog might, but he
beats the workmen. Are the Hebrews all like him?
And for the first time the thought was roused in the prince's soul,
that under the guise of kindness Sarah, too, might conceal falsehood.
Certain changes had indeed taken place in Sarah; above all, moral
changes.
From the moment when she met Ramses in the valley of the desert he
had pleased her, but that feeling grew silent immediately beneath the
influence of the stunning news that the shapely youth was a son of the
pharaoh and heir to the throne of Egypt. When Tutmosis bargained with
Gideon to take her to the prince's house, Sarah fell into a state of
bewilderment.
She would not renounce Ramses for any treasure, nor at the cost of
life, but one could not say that she loved him at that time. Love
demands freedom and time to give forth its most beautiful blossoms;
neither freedom nor time had been left to her. She made the
acquaintance of the prince on a certain day; the following day they
took her away almost without consulting her wishes, and bore her to
that villa opposite Memphis. In a couple of days she became the
prince's favorite, astonished, frightened, not understanding what had
taken place with her.
Moreover, before she could make herself used to the new impressions,
the Jewess was disturbed by ill-will from surrounding people; then the
visit of unknown ladies; finally, that attack on the villa.
Then, because Ramses took her part and wished to rush on the
rioters, she was still more terrified. She lost presence of mind at the
thought that she was in the hands of a man of such power and so
violent, who, if it suited him, had the right to shed blood, to slay
people.
Sarah fell into despair for the moment: it seemed to her that she
would go mad. She heard the terrible commands of the prince who
summoned the servants to arms. But at that very moment a slight thing
took place, one little word was heard which sobered Sarah, and gave a
new turn to her feelings.
The prince, thinking that she was wounded, drew the bandage from her
head; but when he saw the bruise, he cried,
That is only a blue spot! How that blue spot changes the face!
At these words Sarah forgot pain and fear. New alarm seized her: so
she had changed to such a degree that it astonished the prince, but he
was only astonished.
The blue spot disappeared in a couple of days, but feelings unknown
up to that time remained in Sarah's soul and increased there. She began
to be jealous of the prince, and to fear that he would reject her.
And still another anxiety tortured the Jewess. She felt herself a
servant, a slave in respect to Ramses. She was and wished to be his
faithful servant, his devoted slave, as inseparable as his shadow, but
at the same time she desired that he, at least when he fondled her,
should not treat her as though he were lord and master.
She was his indeed, but he was hers also. Why does he not show,
then, that he belonged to her, even in some degree? But with every word
and motion he makes her understand that a certain gulf is between them.
What kind of gulf? Has she not held him in her embraces? Has he not
kissed her lips and bosom?
A certain day the prince came to her with a dog. He stayed only a
couple of hours; but during that entire interval the dog lay at his
feet in Sarah's place, and when she wished to sit there the dog
growled. And the prince laughed and thrust his fingers into the hair of
that unclean creature, as he had into her hair. And the dog looked into
the prince's eyes just as she had, with this difference, perhaps, that
he looked with more confidence.
She could not pacify herself, and she hated the clever beast which
was taking a part of the tenderness due to her, paying no attention
whatever to her, and bearing itself with an intimacy towards its lord
that she did not dare to claim. She would have been unable to have such
an indifferent mien, or to look in another direction if the prince's
hand had rested on her head.
Not long before this incident the prince mentioned dancers a second
time. Then Sarah burst out angrily,
How did he permit himself to be familiar with those naked,
shameless women? And Jehovah looking down from high heaven did not hurl
His thunders at those monstrous creatures!
It is true that Ramses told her that she was dearer than all else to
him, but these words did not pacify Sarah; they only produced this
effect, that she determined not to think of aught beyond her love.
What would come on the morrow? Never mind. And when at the feet of
the prince she sang that hymn about those sufferings which pursue
mankind from the cradle to the grave, she described in it the state of
her own soul, and her last hope, which was Jehovah.
That day Ramses was with her; hence she had enough, she had all the
happiness which life could give. But just there began for Sarah the
greatest bitterness.
The prince lived under one roof with her, he walked with her in the
garden, and sometimes went out on the Nile in a boat with her. But he
was not more accessible by the width of one hair than when he was on
the other side of the river, within the limits of the pharaoh's palace.
He was with her, but his mind was in some other place, Sarah could
not even divine where. He embraced her, or toyed with her hair, but he
looked toward the city, at those immense many-colored pylons of the
pharaoh's palace, or at some unknown object.
At times he did not even answer her questions, or he looked at her
suddenly as if roused from sleep, or as if he wondered that he saw her
there beside him.
CHAPTER XVI
THUS seemed those moments of approach between Sarah and her princely
lover, which were rare enough withal. For after he had given those
commands to-Patrokles and the steward, Ramses spent the greater part of
the day away from the villa, generally in a boat or sailing on the
Nile. He caught with a net fish which swam in thousands in the blessed
river, or he went into swamps, and hidden among lofty lotus stems
brought down with arrows wild birds, which circling in noisy flocks
were as numerous as flies are. But even at those times ambitious
thoughts did not desert him; so he turned the hunting into a kind of
predicting or soothsaying. More than once, when he saw a flock of
yellow geese upon the water, he drew his bow and said, If I hit I
shall be like Ramses the Great.
The arrow made a low whistle, and the stricken bird, fluttering its
wings, gave out cries so painful that there was a movement in the whole
swampy region. Clouds of geese, ducks, and storks rose in the air, and
making a great circle above their dying comrade, dropped down to other
places.
When there was silence again, the prince pushed his boat farther,
with caution guiding himself by the movement of reeds or the broken
calls of birds, and when in the green growth he saw a spot of clear
water and a new flock, he drew his bow again, and said,
If I hit I shall be pharaoh; if I miss.
This time the arrow struck the water, and bounding a number of times
along its surface, disappeared among lotuses. The excited prince sent
more and more arrows, killing birds or only frightening flocks of them.
From the villa they knew where he was by the noisy cloud of birds which
rose from time to time and circled above the boat in which he was
sailing.
When toward evening he returned to the villa wearied, Sarah waited
on the threshold with a bronze basin, a pitcher of light wine, and a
garland of roses. The prince smiled at her, stroked her face, but
looking into her eyes, which were full of tenderness, he thought,
Would she beat Egyptian people, like her relatives who look
frightened all the time? Oh, my mother is right not to trust Jews,
though Sarah may be different from others.
Once, returning unexpectedly, he saw in the space before the villa a
crowd of naked children playing joyously. All were yellow, and at sight
of him they vanished with cries like wild geese from a swampy meadow.
Before he reached the terrace they were gone, not a trace was left.
Who are those little things, asked he, who rushed away from me?
Those are children of my servants, replied Sarah.
Of Jews?
Of my brothers.
Gods, what a numerous people! laughed Ramses. And who is that
again? added he, pointing to a man who looked timidly from beyond the
wall.
That is Aod, son of Barak, my relative. He wants to serve thee,
lord. May I take him?
The prince shrugged his shoulders.
This is thy place, answered he; take those who please thee. But
if these people increase so, they will soon master Memphis.
Thou canst not endure my brethren, whispered Sarah, as she dropped
to his feet frightened.
The prince looked at her with astonishment.
I do not even think of them, answered he, proudly.
These little happenings, which fell on Sarah's soul like drops of
fire, did not change Ramses with regard to her. He was kind and as fond
as he had been, though his eyes turned more frequently to the other
bank of the river, and rested on the mighty pylons of his father's
palace.
Soon he discovered that others were yearning because he was in a
banishment of his own choosing. A certain day from the opposite shore a
stately royal barge pushed out into the river; it crossed the Nile from
Memphis, and then circled near the prince's villa, so near that Ramses
could recognize the persons in it. In fact he recognized beneath the
purple baldachin his mother among court ladies, and opposite, on a low
stool, the vice-pharaoh, Herhor. They did not look toward the villa, it
is true, but the prince divined that they saw him.
Ha! ha! thought he. My worthy mother and his worthiness the
minister would be glad to entice me hence before his holiness returns
to Memphis.
The mouth Tobi (the end of October and beginning of November) came.
The Nile had fallen a distance equaling the stature of a man, and
one-half in addition, uncovering daily new strips of black clammy
earth. Wherever the water withdrew a narrow plough appeared drawn by
two oxen. Behind the plough went a naked ploughman, at the side of he
oxen a driver with a short club, and behind him a sower, who, wading to
his ankles in earth, carried wheat in an apron, and scattered it almost
in handfuls.
The most beautiful season of the year was beginning in Egypt, the
winter. Heat did not go beyond 70 Fahrenheit; the earth was covered
quickly with emerald green, from out which sprang narcissus and
violets. The odor of them came forth oftener and oftener amid the odor
of earth and water.
A number of times the barge bearing the worthy lady Nikotris and the
vice-pharaoh Herhor appeared near Sarah's dwelling. Each time the
prince saw his mother conversing with the minister joyously, and
convinced himself that they refrained ostentatiously from looking
toward him, as if to show indifference.
Wait! whispered he, in anger, I will show you that life does not
annoy me, either.
So when one day, shortly before sunset, the queen's gilded barge
appeared with a purple tent having ostrich plumes on each of its four
comers, Ramses gave command to prepare a boat for two persons, and told
Sarah that he would sail with her.
O Jehovah! cried she, clasping her hands. But thy mother is
there, and the viceroy!
But in this boat will be the heir to the throne. Take thy harp,
Sarah.
And the harp, too? cried Sarah. But if her worthiness were to
speak to thee! I should throw myself into the river.
Be not a child, replied Ramses, laughing. My mother and his
worthiness love songs immensely. Thou mayest even win their favor if
Thou sing some splendid song of the Hebrews. Let there be love in it.
I know no song of that kind, answered Sarah, in whom the prince's
words had roused hope of some sort. Her song might please those
powerful rulers, and then what?
On the royal barge they saw that the heir to the throne was sitting
in a simple boat and rowing.
Dost Thou see, worthiness, whispered the queen to the minister,
that he is rowing toward us with his Jewess?
The heir has borne himself with such correctness toward his
warriors and his people, and has shown so much compunction in
withdrawing from the limits of the palace, that his mother may forgive
small errors, answered Herhor.
Oh, if he were not sitting in that boat, I would give command to
break it! said the worthy lady.
For what reason? asked the minister. The prince would be no
descendant of high priests and pharaohs if he did not break through
restraints which the law, alas, puts on him, or perhaps our mistaken
customs. He has given proof in every case that in serious junctures he
is able to command himself. He is even able to recognize his errors, a
rare power and priceless in an heir to the throne of Egypt. The very
fact that the prince wishes to rouse our curiosity with his favorite
shows that the position in which he finds himself pains him; besides,
his reasons are among the noblest.
But the Jewess! whispered the lady, crushing her feather fan
between her fingers.
At present I am quite at rest regarding her, continued Herhor.
She is shapely, but dull; she never thinks of using influence on the
prince, nor could she do so. Shut up in a cage which is not over-costly, she takes no gifts, and will not even see any one. In time,
perhaps, she might learn to make use of her position even to the extent
of decreasing the heir's treasury by some talents. Before that day
comes, however, Ramses will be tired of her.
May the all-knowing Amon speak through thy mouth, said the lady.
The prince, I am sure of this, has not grown wild over a favorite,
as happens often to young lords in Egypt. One keen, intriguing woman
may strip a man of property and health, nay, bring him to the hall of
judgment. The prince is amused with her as a grown-up man might be
amused with a slave girl. And Sarah is pregnant.
Is that true? cried the queen. How dost Thou know?
It is not known to his worthiness the heir, or even to Sarah, said
Herhor, smiling. We must know everything. This secret, however, was
not difficult to get at. With Sarah is her relative Tafet, an
incomparable gossip.
Have they summoned a physician already?
Sarah knows nothing of this, I repeat, but the worthy Tafet, from
fear lest the prince might grow indifferent to her foster child, would
be glad to twist the neck of this secret. But we do not let her. That
will be the prince's child also.
But if it is a son? Thou knowest that he may make trouble, put in
the lady.
All is foreseen, replied Herhor. If the child is a daughter, we
will give her a dowry and the education proper for young ladies of high
station. If a son, he will become a Jew.
Oh, my grandson, a Jew!
Do not take thy heart too soon from him. Our envoys declare that
the people of Israel are beginning to desire a king. Before the child
matures their desires will ripen, and then we may give them a ruler,
and of good blood indeed.
Thou art like an eagle which takes in East and West at a glance,
said the queen, eying the minister with amazement. I feel that my
repulsion for this maiden begins to grow weaker.
The least drop of the pharaoh's blood should raise itself above
nations, like a star above the earth, added Herhor.
At that moment the heir's boat moved at a few tens of paces from the
royal barge, and the queen, shielded by her fan, looked at Sarah
through its feathers.
In truth the girl is shapely, whispered Queen Nikotris.
Thou art saying those words for the second time, worthy lady.
So Thou hast noted that? laughed her worthiness.
Herhor dropped his eyes.
In the boat was heard a harp, and Sarah began a hymn, with trembling
voice,
How great is Jehovah, O Israel! how great is Jehovah, thy God.
A most beautiful voice, whispered the queen.
The high priest listened with attention.
His days have no beginning, sang Sarah, and His dwelling has no
limit. The eternal heavens change beneath His eye, like a garment which
a man puts on his body and then casts away from him. The stars flash
up, and are quenched, like sparks from fuel, and the earth is like a
brick which a traveler touches once with his foot while going ever
farther.
How great is thy Lord, O Israel! There is no being who can say to
Him, 'Do this!' there is no womb which could have given birth to Him.
He created the bottomless deeps above which He moves when He wishes. He
brings light out of darkness, and from the dust of the earth He creates
living things which have voices.
For Him savage lions are as locusts, the immense elephant He looks
on as nothing, before Him the whale is as weak as an infant.
His tricolored bow divides the heavens into two parts and rests on
the ends of the earth plain. Where are the gates which could equal Him
in loftiness? Nations are in terror at the thunder of His chariot, and
there is naught beneath the sun which could stand His flashing arrows.
His breath is the north wind at midnight, which freshens trees when
withering, His anger is like the chamsin which burns what it touches.
When He stretches His hands above the waters, they are petrified.
He pours the sea into new places, as a woman pours out leaven. He rends
the earth as if it were old linen, and clothes in silvery snow the
naked tops of mountains.
In a grain of wheat He hides one hundred other grains, and causes
birds to incubate. From the drowsy chrysalis He leads to life a golden
butterfly, and makes men's bodies wait in tombs until the day of
resurrection.
The rowers, absorbed in the song, raised their oars, and the purple
barge dropped slowly down with the sweep of the river. All at once
Herhor rose, and commanded,
Turn now toward Memphis!
The oars fell; the barge turned where it stood, and raised the water
with noise. After it followed Sarah's hymn decreasing gradually,
He sees the movement of hearts, the silent hidden ways on which
pass the innermost thoughts in men's breasts. But no man can gaze into
His heart and spy out His purposes.
Before the gleam of His garments mighty spirits hide their faces.
Before His glance the gods of great cities and nations turn aside and
shrink like withering leaves.
He is power, He is life, He is wisdom. He is thy Lord, thy God, O
Israel!
Why command, worthiness, to turn away our barge? asked the worthy
Nikotris.
Lady, dost Thou know that hymn? asked Herhor, in a language
understood by priests alone. That stupid girl is singing in the middle
of the Nile a prayer permitted only in the most secret recesses of our
temples.
Is that blasphemy then?
There is no priest in the barge except me, replied the minister.
I have not heard the hymn, and if I had I should forget it. Still I am
afraid that the gods will lay hands on that girl yet.
But whence does she know that awful prayer, for Ramses could not
have taught it to her?
The prince is not to blame. But forget not, lady, that the Jews
have taken from our Egypt many such treasures. That is why, among all
nations on earth, we consider them alone as sacrilegious.
The queen seized the hand of the high priest.
But my son will no evil strike him? whispered she, looking into
his eyes.
I say, worthiness, that no evil will happen to any one. I heard not
the hymn, and I know nothing. The prince must be separated from that
Jewess.
But separated mildly; is that not the way? asked the mother.
In the mildest way possible and the simplest, but separation is
imperative. It seemed to me, continued the high priest, as if to
himself, that I foresaw everything. Everything save an action for
blasphemy, which threatens the heir while he is with that strange
woman.
Herhor thought awhile, and added,
Yes, worthy lady! It is possible to laugh at many of our
prejudices; still the son of a pharaoh should not be connected with a
Jewess.
CHAPTER XVII
SINCE the evening when Sarah sang in the boat, the royal barge had
not appeared on the Nile, and Prince Ramses was annoyed in real
earnest.
The month Mechir (December) was approaching. The waters decreased,
the land extended more widely each day, the grass became higher and
thicker, and in the grass flashed up flowers of the most varied hues
and of incomparable odor. Like islands in a green sea appeared, in the
course of a single day, flowery places, as it were white, azure,
yellow, rosy, or many colored carpets from which rose an intoxicating
odor. Still the prince was wearied, and even feared something. From the
day of his father's departure he had not been in the palace, and no one
from the palace had come to him, save Tutmosis, who since the last
conversation had vanished like a snake in the grass. Whether they
respected the prince's seclusion, or desired to annoy him, or simply
feared to pay him a visit because he had been touched by disfavor,
Ramses had no means of knowing.
My father may exclude me from the throne, as he has my elder
brothers, thought the heir sometimes; and sweat came out on his
forehead, while his feet became cold.
What would he do in that case?
Moreover Sarah was ill, thin, pale, her great eyes sank; at times
she complained of faintness which attacked her in the morning.
Surely some one has bewitched the poor thing, groaned the cunning
Tafet, whom the prince could not endure for her chattering and very bad
management.
A couple of times, for instance, the heir noticed that in the
evening Tafet sent off to Memphis immense baskets with food, linen,
even vessels. Next day she complained in heaven-piercing accents that
flour, wine, and even vessels were lacking. Since the heir had come to
the villa ten times more of various products had been used there than
formerly.
I am certain, thought Ramses, that that chattering termagant robs
me for her Jews, who vanish in the daytime but are prowling around in
the night, like rats in the nastiest comers!
The prince's only amusement in these days was to look at the date
harvest. A naked man took his place at the foot of a high palm without
side branches, surrounded the trunk and himself with a circular rope
which resembled the hoop of a barrel. Then he raised himself on the
tree by his heels, his whole body bent backward, but the hoop-like rope
held him by squeezing his body to the tree. Next he shoved the flexible
hoop up the trunk some inches, raised himself by his heels again, then
shoved the rope up. In this way he climbed, exposed meanwhile to the
peril of breaking his neck, till he reached the top, where grew a crown
of great leaves and dates.
The prince was not alone when he saw these gymnastics; Jewish
children also were spectators. At first there was no trace of them.
Then among bushes and from beyond the wall curly heads and black
gleaming eyes appeared. Afterward, when they saw that the prince did
not drive them away, these children came out each from a hiding-place
and approached the tree gradually. The most daring among the girls
picked up a beautiful date which she brought to Ramses. One of the boys
ate the smallest date, and then the children began to eat and to give
the prince fruit. At first they brought him the best, then inferior
dates, finally some that were spoilt altogether.
The future ruler of the world fell to thinking, and said to himself,
They crawl in at all points, and will treat me always in this way:
they will give the good as a bait, and what is spoiled out of
gratitude.
He rose and walked away gloomily; but the children of Israel rushed,
like a flock of birds, at the labor of the Egyptian, who high above
their heads was singing unmindful of his bones and of this, that he was
harvesting not for his own use.
Sarah's undiscovered disease, her frequent tears, her vanishing
charms, and above all the Jews, who, ceasing to hide, managed the place
with increasing tumult, disgusted Ramses to the utmost degree with that
beautiful comer. He sailed no more in a boat, he neither hunted nor
watched the date harvest, but wandered gloomily through the garden, or
looked from his roof at the palace. He would never go back to that
palace unless summoned, and now he thought of a trip to his lands near
the sea, in Lower Egypt.
In such a state of mind was he found by Tutmosis, who on a certain
day came in a ceremonial barge to the heir with a summons from the
pharaoh.
His holiness is returning from Thebes, and wishes the heir to go
forth and meet him.
The prince trembled, he grew pale and crimson, when he read the
gracious letter of his lord and ruler. He was so moved that he did not
notice his adjutant's new immense wig, which gave out fifteen different
perfumes, he did not see his tunic and mantle, more delicate than mist,
nor his sandals with gold rings as ornaments.
After some time Ramses recovered, and inquired without looking at
Tutmosis,
Why hast Thou not been here for such a period? Did the disfavor
into which I have fallen alarm thee?
Gods! cried the exquisite. When wert Thou in disfavor, and in
whose? Every courier of his holiness inquired for thy health; the
worthy lady, Nikotris, and his worthiness Herhor have sailed toward
this villa repeatedly, thinking that Thou wouldst make a hundred steps
toward them after they had made a couple of thousand toward thee. I say
nothing of the troops. In time of review the warriors of thy regiments
are as silent as palm-trees, and do not go from the barracks. As to the
worthy Patrokles, he drinks and curses all day from vexation.
So the prince had not been in disfavor, or if he had been the
disfavor was ended. This thought acted on Ramses like a goblet of good
wine. He took a bath quickly, anointed his body, put on fresh linen, a
new kaftan, a helmet with plumes, and then went to Sarah.
Sarah screamed when she saw the prince arrayed thus. She rose up,
and seizing him around the neck, whispered,
Thou art going, my lord! Thou wilt not come back to me.
Why not? wondered the heir. Have I not gone away often and
returned afterward?
I remember thee dressed in just this way over there in our valley,
said Sarah. Oh, where are those hours! So quickly have they passed,
and so long is it since they vanished.
But I will return and bring the most famous physician.
What for? inquired Tafet. She is well, my dear chick she needs
only rest. But Egyptian physicians would bring real sickness.
The prince did not look at the talkative woman.
This was my pleasantest month with thee, said Sarah, nestling up
to Ramses, but it has not brought happiness.
The trumpets sounded on the royal barge, repeating a signal given
higher up on the river.
Sarah started.
Dost Thou hear, lord, that terrible outburst? Thou hearest and
smilest, and, woe to me, Thou art tearing away from my embraces. When
trumpets call nothing can hold thee, least of all thy slave, Sarah.
Wouldst them have me listen forever to the cackling of hens in the
country? interrupted the prince, now impatient. Be well, and wait for
me joyously.
Sarah let him go from her grasp, but she had such a mournful
expression that Ramses grew mild and stroked her.
Only be calm. Thou fearest the sound of our trumpets. But were they
ill-omened the first day?
My lord, answered Sarah, I know that over there they will keep
thee, so grant me this one, this last favor. I will give thee,
continued she, sobbing, a cage of pigeons. They were hatched out and
reared here; hence, as often as Thou rememberest thy servant, open the
cage and set one of them free; it will bring me tidings of thee, and I
will kiss and fondle it as as But go now!
The prince embraced her and went to the barge, telling his black
attendant to wait for the pigeons.
At sight of the heir, drums and fifes sounded, and the garrison
raised a loud shout of welcome. When he found himself among warriors,
the prince drew a deep breath, and stretched out his arms, like a man
liberated from bondage.
Well, said he to Tutmosis, women have tormented me, and those
Jews O Cyrus! command to roast me on a slow fire at once, but put me
not in the country a second time.
So it is, confirmed Tutmosis; love is like honey. It must be
taken by sips, a man must not swim in it. Brr! shudders pass over me
when I think that Thou hast passed nearly two months fed on kisses in
the evening, dates in the morning, and asses' milk at midday.
Sarah is a very good girl, said Ramses.
I do not speak of her, but of those Jews who have settled down at
that villa like papyrus in swamp land. Dost Thou see, they are looking
out at thee yet, and perhaps are sending greetings, said the
flatterer.
The prince turned to another side with displeasure, and Tutmosis
winked joyfully at the officers, as if to tell them that Ramses would
not leave their society very soon this time.
The higher they ascended the Nile the denser on both banks were
spectators, the more numerous were boats on the river, and the more did
flowers, garlands, and bouquets float down; these had been thrown at
the barge of the pharaoh.
About five miles above Memphis there were multitudes of people with
banners, with statues of gods, and with music; an immense roar was
heard, like the sound of a tempest.
There is his holiness! cried Tutmosis, delighted.
One spectacle was presented to the eyes of the onlookers: in the
middle of a broad bend in the river sailed the great barge of the
pharaoh, rising in front like the breast of a swan. At the right and
left sides of it, like two giant wings, pushed forward the countless
boats of his subjects, and in the rear, like a rich fan, stretched the
retinue of the ruler of Egypt.
Every one living shouted, sang, clapped hands, and threw flowers at
the feet of the lord whom no one even saw. It was enough that under
that gilded canopy and those ostrich plumes waved a ruddy blue flag,
denoting that the pharaoh was present.
The people in the boats were as if drunk, the people on the shore as
if mad. Every moment some boat struck or overturned a boat and some man
fell into the water, out of which luckily the crocodiles had fled,
frightened by the unparalleled uproar. On the banks men ran into one
another, for no one paid heed to his neighbor, his father, or his
child, but fixed his wild eyes on the gilded beak of the barge and the
tent of the pharaoh. Even people who were trampled, whose ribs the wild
crowd broke stupidly, and whose joints they put out, had no cry save
this,
May he live through eternity, O our ruler! Shine on, Thou the sun
of Egypt!
The madness of greeting spread to the barge of Ramses: officers,
soldiers, and oarsmen pressed into one throng and strove to outshout
one another. Tutmosis, forgetting the heir to the throne, clambered up
on the prow, and almost flew into the water.
Meanwhile a trumpet sounded from the pharaoh's barge, and soon after
one answered from the barge of Ramses. A second signal, and the barge
of the heir touched the great barge of the pharaoh.
Some official called to Ramses. From barge to barge they extended a
gangway of cedar with carved railings, and the prince found himself
next in the embrace of his father.
The presence of the pharaoh, or the storm of shouts roaring about
him, so stunned Prince Ramses that he could not utter a syllable. He
fell at his father's feet, and the lord of the world pressed the heir
to his sacred bosom.
A moment later the side walls of the tent rose, and all the people
on both banks of the Nile saw their ruler on a throne, and on the high
step of it Ramses kneeling, with his head on the breast of his father.
Such silence followed that the rustling of banners on the barges was
audible. Then on a sudden burst forth one immense roar, greater than
all which had preceded. With this the Egyptian people honored the
reconciliation of son and father; they greeted their present, and
saluted their future ruler.
If any man had reckoned on dissensions in the sacred family of the
pharaoh, he might convince himself then that the new royal branch held
to its parent trunk firmly.
His holiness looked very ill. After the tender greeting of his son,
he commanded him to sit at the side of the throne.
My soul was rushing forth toward thee, Ramses, said he, and all
the more ardently the better were the tidings which I had of thee.
Today I see not only that Thou hast the heart of a lion, but that Thou
art a man full of prudence, who knows how to estimate his own acts, who
is able to restrain himself, and who feels for the interests of Egypt.
When the prince, filled with emotion, was silent and kissed his
father's feet, the pharaoh continued,
Thou hast done well to renounce command of the Greek regiments,
because from this day the corps in Memphis is thine, Thou art its
commander.
My father! whispered the heir, trembling.
Besides, in Lower Egypt, which is open on three sides to attacks of
hostile nations, I need a wise, active man, who will watch all things
round him, weigh them well in his heart, and act promptly. For this
reason I appoint thee my lieutenant in that half of the kingdom.
Abundant tears flowed from the prince's eyes. With those tears he
bade farewell to his youth; be greeted power, to which his soul had
turned for years with uncertainty and longing.
I am now weak and wearied, said the ruler, and were it not for
anxiety touching thy youth and the future of Egypt, I would this day
beg my deathless ancestors to call me to their glory. Each day is for
me more difficult, and therefore, Ramses, Thou wilt begin to share the
burden of rule with me. As a hen teaches her chicks to search out
grains of corn and hide before the hawk, so I will teach thee that
toilsome art of ruling a state and watching the devices of enemies. May
Thou fall on them in time, like an eagle on timid partridges.
The pharaoh's barge and its well-ordered retinue had descended to a
point opposite the palace. The wearied ruler took a seat in his litter,
and at that moment Herhor approached Ramses.
Permit me, worthy prince, said he, to be the earliest among those
who are delighted with thy elevation. May Thou lead the army with as
much success as Thou shalt govern the most important part of the state
to the glory of Egypt.
Ramses pressed his hand firmly.
Didst Thou do this, O Herhor? asked he.
It belonged to thee, replied the minister.
Thou hast my gratitude, and wilt see that it is of value.
Thou hast rewarded me already in speaking thus, replied Herhor.
The prince wished to depart; Herhor detained him.
A brief word. Be careful, O heir, that one of thy women, Sarah,
does not sing religious hymns.
When Ramses looked at him with astonishment, he added,
During our sail on the Nile that maiden sang our most sacred hymn,
a hymn to which only the pharaoh and high priests have the right to
listen. Poor child! she might have suffered for her skill and for her
ignorance of what she was singing.
Then has she committed sacrilege? inquired Ramses, in confusion.
Yes, unconsciously, answered Herhor. It is lucky that I was the
only man who understood it, and my decision is that between that song
and our hymn the resemblance is remote. In every case let her never
repeat it.
Well, and should she purify herself? asked the prince. Will it
suffice her, as a foreign woman, if she gives thirty cows to the temple
of Isis?
Yes, let her give them, replied Herhor, with a slight grimace.
The gods are not offended by gifts.
Do thou, noble lord, said Ramses, be pleased to accept this
miraculous shield, which I received from my sacred grandfather.
I? the shield of Amenhotep? exclaimed the minister, with emotion.
Am I worthy of it?
By thy wisdom Thou art equal to my grandfather, and Thou wilt equal
him in position.
Herhor made a low bow in silence. That golden shield set with
precious stones, besides its great value in money, had moreover the
virtue of an amulet; hence it was a regal present.
But the prince's words might have the loftier meaning that Herhor
would equal Amenhotep in position. Amenhotep had been the father-in-law
of a pharaoh. Had the heir decided already to marry Herhor's daughter?
That was the fond dream of Queen Nikotris and the minister. But it
must be acknowledged that Ramses in speaking of the future dignities of
Herhor had not thought in the least of marrying his daughter, but of
giving him new offices, of which there was a multitude at the court and
in the temples.
CHAPTER XVIII
FROM the day that he became viceroy of Lower Egypt a life
unparalleled in troubles set in for Ramses, such a life as he had not
even imagined, though born and reared in the pharaoh's palace.
People simply tortured him; his torturers were persons who had
interests of various kinds and who were of various social classes.
On the very first day, at sight of the throngs of people, who
crowded and pushed one another with eagerness, trampled his lawns,
broke his trees, and injured even the wall which enclosed his villa,
the heir demanded a guard for protection. But on the third day he was
forced to flee from his own dwelling to the precincts of the palace
proper, where, because of numerous sentries and above all because of
high walls, access to him was made difficult.
During the ten days which preceded his departure, representatives of
all Egypt, if not of the whole world of that period, passed before the
eyes of the new viceroy.
First of all were admitted great personages. Hence to congratulate
him came the high priests of temples, ministers, ambassadors,
Phoenician, Greek, Hebrew, Assyrian, Nubian, men whose dresses even he
could not remember. Next came the chiefs of neighboring provinces,
judges, secretaries, the higher officers of the army corps in Memphis,
and landowners.
These people desired nothing, they simply expressed their delight at
honor shown him. But the prince, while listening to these persons from
morning till midday and from midday till evening, felt confusion in his
head, and a quivering in all his members.
After these came representatives of the lower classes with gifts:
merchants bringing gold, foreign stuffs, amber, fruits, and perfumes.
Then bankers and men who loaned money for interest. Further, architects
with plans for new buildings, sculptors with projects for statues and
carvings in relief, masons, potters, makers of ordinary and ornamental
furniture, blacksmiths, founders, tanners, wine-merchants, weavers,
even dissectors who opened the bodies of the departed.
The procession of those men rendering homage had not finished when
an army of petitioners approached the viceroy. Invalids, widows, and
orphans of officers requested pensions; noble lords required court
offices for their sons. Engineers presented new methods of irrigating
Egypt; physicians offered means against diseases of all sorts;
soothsayers offered horoscopes. Relatives of prisoners petitioned to
lessen punishments; those condemned to death begged for life; the sick
implored the heir to touch them, or to bestow on them his spittle.
Finally, beautiful women announced themselves, the mothers of
stately daughters begging the heir humbly but insistently to receive
them into his mansion. Some indicated the amount of the pension
demanded, praising their virginity and their talents.
After ten days of looking every moment at new persons and faces, and
hearing petitions which only the possession of a world and divine power
to dispense it could satisfy, Prince Ramses was exhausted. He could not
sleep; he was so excited that the buzz of a fly pained his nerves, and
at moments he did not understand what people said when they talked to
him.
In this position Herhor came again to assist the viceroy. He
commanded to inform the wealthy that the prince would not receive any
more persons on questions of interest; and against common people, who,
in spite of repeated invitations to disperse, were still waiting, he
sent a company of Numidians with clubs. These succeeded with
incomparably more ease than Ramses in meeting popular wishes, for
before an hour had passed the petitioners had vanished from the square,
like mist, while one and another of them for a couple of succeeding
days poured water on their heads, or other bruised parts of their
bodies.
After this trial of supreme power the prince felt profound contempt
for men and became apathetic. He lay two days on a couch with his hands
beneath his head gazing vacantly at the ceiling. He did not wonder that
his sacred father passed his time at the altars of the gods, but he
could not understand how Herhor was able to manage the avalanche of
business, which, like a storm, not only surpassed the strength of a
man, but might even crush him.
How carry out plans in this case when a throng of petitions fetter
our will, devour our thoughts, drink our blood? At the end of ten days
I am sick, at the end of a year I should be an idiot. In this office it
is impossible to carry out any plan; a man can just defend himself from
madness.
He was so alarmed by his weakness in the position of ruler that he
summoned Herhor, and with a complaining voice told of his suffering.
The statesman listened with a smile to the complaints of the young
steersman of the ship of state, and at last said in answer,
Knowest thou, lord, that this immense palace in which we dwell was
reared by one architect, named Senebi, who moreover died before it was
finished? And to a certainty Thou wilt understand how this famous
architect could carry out his plan without weariness and be always in a
cheerful temper.
I am curious.
Well, he did not do everything himself; he did not hew the beams or
cut the stones, he did not make the bricks, he did not carry them to
the scaffolding. He did not lay them into the wall and fasten them
together. He only drew the plan, and moreover he had assistants. But
thou, prince, hadst the wish to do all things thyself, to listen in
person and transact every business. That goes beyond human strength.
How should I do otherwise if among petitioners there are some who
have suffered without cause, or if there is unrewarded service? Of
course the foundation of the state is justice.
How many canst Thou hear in a day without weariness? asked Herhor.
Well, twenty.
Thou art happy. I hear at the most six or ten, but they are not
interested in the petitions, they are chief secretaries, overseers, and
ministers. These men report to me no details, only the most important
things that are done in the army, on the estates of the pharaoh, in
questions of religion, in the courts, in the provinces, and touching
movements of the Nile. Therefore they report no trivial matter, because
each man before he comes to me must hear ten inferior secretaries. Each
inferior secretary and overseer collected information from ten sub-secretaries and sub-inspectors, and they in their turn have heard
reports from ten officials who are under them. In this manner I and his
holiness speaking with only ten people daily know all that is most
important in a hundred thousand points of Egypt and the world beyond
it.
The watchman in charge of one part of a street in Memphis sees only
a few houses. A decurion of ten policemen knows the whole street, a
centurion a division of the city, the chief knows all the city. The
pharaoh stands above them all, as if he were standing on the highest
pylon of the temple of Ptah, and sees not only Memphis, but the cities,
Sochem, On, Cheran, Turra, Tetani, with their suburbs, and a portion of
the western desert.
From that height his holiness is unable, it is true, to see the
people who are wronged, or those who are unrewarded, but he is able to
see the crowd of laborers who have collected without work. He cannot
see warriors in the dramshops, but he can know what regiment is
exercising. He cannot see what a given earth-tiller or citizen is
preparing for dinner, but he can see a fire beginning in a given
quarter of the city.
This order in the state, continued Herhor, with growing animation,
is our strength and glory. Snofru, a pharaoh of the first dynasty,
asked a certain priest what monument he should rear to himself.
'Draw on the earth, O lord,' replied the priest, 'a square, and put
on it six million unhewn stones; they will represent the people. On
that foundation place sixty thousand hewn stones; they will be the
lower officials. On them place six thousand polished stones; they will
be thy higher officials. On these put sixty covered with carvings;
those will be thy most intimate counselors and chief leaders, and on
the summit place one monolith with its pedestal and the golden image of
the sun; that will be thyself.'
The Pharaoh Snofru followed that advice. Thus rose the oldest
pyramid, the step pyramid, a tangible image of our state; from that
pyramid all others had their origin. Those are immovable buildings,
from the summits of which the rim of the world is visible, and they
will be a marvel to the remotest generations.
In this system resides our superiority over all neighbors. The
Ethiopians were as numerous as we, but their king himself took care of
his own cattle, and beat his own subjects with a club; he knew not how
many subjects he had, nor was he able to collect them when our troops
invaded his country. There was not a united Ethiopia, but a great crowd
of unorganized people. For that reason they are our vassals at present.
The Prince of Libya judges all disputes himself, especially among
the wealthy, and gives so much time to them that he cannot attend to
his own business. So at his side whole bands of robbers rise up; these
we exterminate.
Were there in Phoenicia a single ruler who knew what was happening
and who commanded in all parts, that country would not pay us one uten
of tribute. But what a happiness for us that the kings of Nineveh and
Babylon have each only one minister, and are tormented with the onrush
of business as Thou art this day. They wish to see, judge, and command
everything; hence the affairs of their states are entangled for a
century to come. But were some insignificant scribe to go from Egypt to
those kings, explain their errors of management, and give them our
official system, our pyramid, in a year's time Judaea and Phoenicia
would fall into the hands of the Assyrians, and in a few tens of years
powerful armies, coming from the East and the North by laud and by sea,
would hurl themselves on us, armies which we might not be able to
vanquish.
Therefore let us fall on them today and take advantage of their
want of order, cried Ramses.
We are not cured yet of previous victories, answered Herhor,
coldly; and he began to take leave of the viceroy.
Have victories weakened us? burst out the heir. Or have we not
brought home treasures?
But does not the axe with which we cut wood become blunted?
inquired Herhor; and he went out.
The prince understood that the great minister wished peace at all
costs, in spite of the fact that he was chief of the armies.
We shall see, whispered Ramses to himself.
A couple of days before his departure Ramses was summoned to his
holiness. The pharaoh was sitting in an armchair in a marble hall; no
other person was present, and the four entrances were guarded by Nubian
sentries.
At the side of the royal armchair was a stool for the prince, and a
small table covered with documents written on papyrus. On the walls
were colored bas-reliefs showing the occupations of field-workers, and
in the comers of the hall were ungraceful statues of Osiris smiling
pensively.
When the prince at command of his father sat down, his holiness
spoke to him,
Here, my son, are thy documents as leader and viceroy. Well, have
the first days of power wearied thee?
In thy service, holiness, I shall find strength.
Flatterer! said the pharaoh, smiling. Remember that I do not
require overwork on thy part. Amuse thyself; youth needs recreation.
This does not mean, however, that Thou art not to have important
affairs to manage.
I am ready.
First I will disclose my cares to thee. Our treasury has a bad
aspect; the inflow of revenue decreases yearly, especially in Lower
Egypt, and expenditures are rising.
The pharaoh fell to thinking.
Those women those women, Ramses, they swallow up the wealth, not of
mortal men only, but my wealth. I have some hundreds of them, and each
woman wishes to have as many maids as possible, as many dressmakers,
barbers, slaves, slaves for her litter, slaves for her chamber, horses,
oarsmen, even her own favorites and their children Little children!
When I was returning from Thebes one of those ladies, whom I do not
even remember, ran into my road and, showing a sturdy boy of three
years, desired that I should designate for him a property, since he
was, as she said, a son of mine. My son, and three years of age. Canst
Thou understand this? The affair was simple. I could not argue with a
woman, besides, in such a delicate question. But for a man of noble
birth it is easier to be polite than find money for every fancy of that
sort.
He shook his head and continued,
Meanwhile incomes since the beginning of my reign have decreased
one- half, especially in Lower Egypt. I ask what this means. They
answer: people have grown poor, many citizens have disappeared, the sea
has covered a certain extent of land on the north, and the desert on
the east, we have had a number of bad harvests; in a word, tale follows
tale while the treasury becomes poorer and poorer. Therefore I beg thee
to explain this matter. Look about, learn to know well-informed men who
are truthful, and form of them an examining commission. When they begin
to report, trust not over-much to papyrus, but verify here and there in
person. I hear that Thou hast the eye of a leader; if that be true, one
glance will tell thee how accurate the statements of the commission
are. But hasten not in giving thy opinion, and above all, do not herald
it. Note down every weighty conclusion which conies to thy head on a
given day, and when a few days have passed reexamine that question and
note it down a second time. This will teach thee caution in judgment
and accuracy in grasping subjects.
It will be as Thou commandest, replied the prince.
Another mission which Thou must accomplish is truly difficult.
Something is happening in Assyria which begins to alarm my government.
Our priests declare that beyond the Northern sea stands a pyramidal
mountain covered with green at its base and with snow on the summit.
This mountain has marvelous qualities. After many years of quiet it
begins all at once to smoke, roar, and tremble, and then it hurls out
as much liquid fire as there is water in the Nile. This fire, which
flows down its sides in various directions and over an immense stretch
of country, ruins the labor of earth-tillers.
Well, Assyria is a mountain of that sort. For whole ages calm and
quiet reign in that region, till all on a sudden a tempest bursts out
there, great armies pour forth from it and annihilate peaceful
neighbors. At present around Nineveh and Babylon seething is audible:
the mountain is smoking. Thou must learn therefore how far that smoke
indicates an outburst, and think out means of precaution.
Shall I be able to do so? asked the prince, in a low voice.
Thou must learn to observe. If Thou hast the wish to learn anything
well, be not satisfied with the witness of thy own eyes, but strengthen
thyself with the aid of a number of others. Confine not thyself to the
judgment of Egyptians alone, for each people, each man has a special
way of looking at subjects, and neither one grasps the whole truth in
any question. Listen therefore to what the Phoenicians, the Hebrews,
the Hittites, and the Egyptians think of the Assyrians, and weigh in
thy own heart with care all that agrees in their judgments concerning
Assyria. If all tell thee that danger is coming from that point, Thou
wilt know that it is coming; but if different men speak variously, be
on thy guard also, for wisdom commands us to look for less good and
more evil.
Thy speech is like that of the gods, whispered the heir of Egypt,
I am old, and from the height of the throne things are seen of
which mortal men have not even a suspicion. Wert Thou to inquire of the
sun what he thinks of this world's affairs, he would tell thee things
still more curious.
Among the people from whom I am to gain knowledge of Assyria, Thou
hast not mentioned the Greeks, O father, put in Ramses.
The pharaoh nodded, and said with a kindly smile,
The Greeks! oh, the Greeks! A great future is in store for that
people. In comparison with us they are in childhood, but what a spirit
is in them!
Dost remember my statue made by a Greek sculptor? That is my second
self, a living person! I kept it a month in the palace, but at last I
gave it to the temple in Thebes. Wilt Thou believe, fear seized me lest
that stone should rise from its seat and claim one-half of the
government. What a disorder would rise then in Egypt!
The Greeks! Hast Thou seen the vases which they make, the palaces
which they build? From that clay out there and from stone something
comes that delights my old age and forbids me to think of my
feebleness.
And their language! O gods, it is music and sculpture and painting.
In truth, I say that if Egypt could ever die as a man dies, the Greeks
would take all its property. Nay more, they would persuade the world
that everything done by us was their work, and that we never existed.
And still they are only the pupils of our primary schools, for, as Thou
knowest, we have no right to communicate the highest knowledge to
foreigners.
Still, father, it seems that Thou hast no trust in the Greeks.
No, for they are peculiar; one can trust neither Greek nor
Phoenician. The Phoenician, when he wishes, sees and will tell thee
genuine truth of Egypt, but Thou wilt never know when he is telling it.
The Greek, as simple as a child, would tell the truth always, but he is
never able.
The Greeks look at the world in a manner different altogether from
our way. In their wonderful eyes everything glitters, assumes colors
and changes, as the sky and the water of Egypt. How then could we rely
on their judgment?
In the days of the Theban dynasty, far away toward the north, was
the little town of Troy. We have in Egypt twenty thousand as large as
it. Various Greek vagrants laid siege to that hamlet, and so annoyed
its few inhabitants that after ten years of trouble they burned their
little fortress and moved to other places. An every-day robber
narrative! Meanwhile just see what songs the Greeks sing of the Trojan
combats. We laugh at those wonders and heroisms, for our government had
accurate information of events there. We see the lies which strike any
one, but still we listen to those songs, as a child does to tales which
its nurse tells, and we cannot tear ourselves free from them.
Such are the Greeks: born liars, but fascinating; yes, and valiant.
Every man of them would rather die than tell truth. They do not lie for
profit, as do the Phoenicians, but because their mind constrains them.
Well, what am I to think of the Phoenicians?
They are wise people of mighty industry and daring, but hucksters:
for them life means profit, be it great or the greatest. The
Phoenicians are like water: they bring much with them, but bear away
much, and push in at all points. One must give them the least possible,
and above all watch that they enter not through hidden crannies into
Egypt. If Thou pay them well and offer hope of still greater profit,
they will be excellent assistants. What we know today of secret
movements in Assyria we know through Phoenicians.
And the Jews? asked the prince, dropping his eyes.
A quick people, but gloomy fanatics and born enemies of Egypt. Only
when they feel on their necks the iron-shod sandal of the Assyrian,
will they turn to us. May that time not come too late to them! It is
possible to use their services, not here, of course, but in Nineveh and
Babylon.
The pharaoh was wearied now. Hence the prince fell on his face
before him, and when he had received the paternal embrace he went to
his mother.
The lady, sitting in her study, was weaving delicate linen to make
garments for the gods, and her ladies in waiting were sewing and
embroidering robes or making bouquets. A young priest was burning
incense before the statue of Isis.
I come, said the prince, to thank thee, my mother, and take
farewell.
The queen rose and putting her arms around her son's neck, said to
him tearfully,
Hast Thou changed so much? Thou art a man now! I meet thee so
rarely that I might forget thy features did I not see them in my heart
every moment. Thou art unkind. How many times have I gone with the
first dignitary of the state toward thy villa, thinking that at last
Thou wouldst cease to be offended, but Thou didst bring out thy
favorite in my presence.
I beg thy pardon I beg thy pardon! said Ramses, kissing his
mother.
She conducted him to a garden in which peculiar flowers grew, and
when they were without witnesses, she said,
I am a woman, so a woman and a mother has interest for me. Dost
Thou wish to take that girl with thee on thy journey? Remember that the
tumult and the movement which will surround thee may harm her, for in
her condition calm and quiet are needed.
Art Thou speaking of Sarah? inquired Ramses, astonished. She has
said nothing to me of that condition.
She may be ashamed; perhaps she does not herself know, replied the
queen. In every case the journey.
I have no intention of taking her! exclaimed Ramses. But why does
she hide this from me as if the child were not mine?
Be not suspicious, chided the lady. This is the usual timidity of
young women. Moreover, she may be hiding her condition from fear lest
Thou cast her away from thee.
For that matter, I shall not take her to my court! broke out the
prince, so impatiently that the queen's eyes were smiling, but she
covered them with their long lashes.
It is not well to be over-harsh with a woman who loved thee. I know
that Thou hast given an assured support to her. We will give her
something also. And a child of the royal blood must be reared well, and
have property.
Naturally, answered Ramses. My first son, though without princely
rights, must be so placed that I may not be ashamed of him, and he must
not regret separation from me.
After parting with the queen, Ramses wished to go to Sarah, and with
that object returned to his chambers.
Two feelings were roused in him, anger at Sarah for hiding the cause
of her weakness, and pride that he was going to be a father.
He a father! This title gave him an importance which, as it were,
supported his titles of commander and viceroy. Father! that did not
mean a stripling who must look perforce with reverence on older people.
He was roused and enraptured. He wished to see Sarah, to scold, then
embrace her and give her presents.
But when he returned to his part of the palace he found there two
nomarchs from Lower Egypt who had come to report on their provinces,
and when he had heard them out, he was wearied. Besides, he was to hold
an evening reception and did not wish to be late in beginning.
And again I shall not be with her, thought he. Poor girl! for
twenty days she has not seen me.
He summoned the negro.
Hast Thou that cage which Sarah gave thee when we went to greet his
holiness?
I have.
Take a pigeon from it, and let the bird loose.
The pigeons are eaten.
Who ate them?
Thou. I told the cook that those birds came from the Lady Sarah; so
he made a roast and pies out of them for thee, worthiness.
May the crocodiles eat you both! cried the prince, in anger.
He sent for Tutmosis and dispatched him immediately to Sarah. He
explained to him the history of the pigeons, and said,
Give her emerald earrings, bracelets, anklets, and two talents. Say
that I am angry because she concealed her condition, but that I will
forgive her if the child is healthy and handsome. Should she have a
boy, I will give her another place, finished he, with a smile. But
but persuade her to put away even a few Jews, and to take even a few
Egyptian men and women. I do not wish my son to be born into such
company; besides, he might play with Jew children. They would teach him
to give his father the worst dates of the harvest.
CHAPTER XIX
THE foreign quarter in Memphis lay on the northeastern extremity of
the city near the river. There were several hundred houses in that
place and many thousand people, Assyrians, Greeks, Jews, most of all,
Phoenicians.
That was a wealthy quarter. A street thirty paces in width formed
its leading artery. This street was rather straight, and paved with
flat stones. On both sides were houses of sandstone, brick, or
limestone, varying in height from three to five stories. In the cellars
were stores of raw materials; on the ground floors were arched rooms;
on the first stories dwellings of wealthy people; higher were the
workshops of weavers, tailors, jewelers; highest of all, the crowded
dwellings of laborers.
The buildings of this quarter, like those in the whole city, were
mainly white; but one might see stone houses as green as a meadow, as
yellow as a wheat-field, as blue as the sky. or as red as blood.
The front walls of many houses were ornamented with pictures
representing the occupations of people who dwelt in them. On the house
of a jeweler long rows of pictures announced that its owner sold to
foreign kings chains and bracelets of his own making which roused their
amazement. The immense palace of a merchant was covered with pictures
representing the labors and perils of a trafficker: on the sea dreadful
monsters with fish tails were seizing the man; in the desert winged
dragons breathing fire were grasping after him, and on distant islands
he was tormented by a giant whose sandals were larger than any ship of
the Phoenicians.
A physician on the wall of his office represented persons who,
thanks to his aid, had recovered lost hands and feet, even teeth and
youthfulness. On a building occupied by a government administrator of
the quarter were to be seen a keg into which people were throwing gold
rings; a scribe into whose ears some one was whispering; an offender,
stretched on the ground, whom two other men were beating.
The street was full. Along the walls stood litter-bearers, men with
fans, messengers and laborers, ready to offer their services. In the
middle of the street moved an unbroken line of merchants' wares carried
by men, asses, or oxen attached to vehicles. On the sidewalks pushed
forward noisy sellers of fresh water, grapes, dates, dried fish, and
among them hucksters, flower-girls, musicians, and tricksters of
various descriptions.
In this torrent of people which flowed forward and separated, in
which men bought and sold, crying out in various tones, policemen were
prominent. Each had a brownish tunic reaching to his knees, bare legs,
an apron with blue and red stripes, a short sword at his side, and a
strong stick in his hand. This official walked along on the sidewalk;
sometimes he conversed with a colleague; most frequently, however, he
stood on a stone at the edge of the street, so as to take in more
accurately the crowd which flowed past in front of him.
In view of such watchfulness street thieves had to do their work
cleverly. Usually two began to fight, and when a crowd had gathered
around them and the police clubbed both spectators and quarrelers,
other confederates in the art did the stealing.
About half-way between the two ends of the street stood the inn of
Asarhadon, a Phoenician from Tyre. In this inn, for easier control, all
were forced to dwell who came from beyond the boundaries of Egypt. It
was a large quadrangular building which on each side had a number of
tens of windows, and was not connected with other houses; hence men
could go around the place and watch it from all points. Over the
principal gate hung the model of a ship; on the front wall were
pictures representing his holiness Ramses XII placing offerings before
the gods, or extending his protection to foreigners, among whom the
Phoenicians were distinguished by a sturdy stature and very ruddy
faces.
The windows were narrow, always open, and only in case of need
shaded by curtains of linen or by colored slats. The chambers of the
innkeeper and of travelers occupied three stories; the ground floor was
devoted to a wine shop and an eating-place. Sailors, carriers,
handicraftsmen, and in general the poorer class of travelers ate and
drank in a courtyard which had a mosaic pavement and a linen roof
resting on columns, so that all guests might be under inspection. The
wealthier and better born ate in a gallery which surrounded the
courtyard. In the courtyard the men sat on the pavement near stones
which were used instead of tables; in the galleries, which were cooler,
there were tables, stools, and armchairs, even low couches, with
cushions, on which guests might slumber.
In each gallery there was a great table on which were bread, meat,
fish, and fruits, also jugs holding several quarts of beer, wine, and
water. Negroes, men and women, bore around food to the guests, removed
empty vessels, and brought from the cellars full pitchers, while
scribes watching scrupulously over the tables noted down carefully each
piece of bread, bulb of garlic, and flagon of water. In the courtyard
two inspectors stood on an elevation with sticks in their grasp; these
men kept their eyes on the servants and the scribes on the one hand,
and on the other by the aid of the sticks they settled quarrels between
the poorer guests of various nations. Thanks to this arrangement thefts
and battles happened rarely; they were more frequent in the galleries
than the courtyard.
The Phoenician innkeeper himself, the noted Asarhadon, a man beyond
fifty, dressed in a long tunic and a muslin cape, walked among the
guests to see if each received what he had ordered.
Eat and drink, my sons! said he to the Greek sailors, for such
pork and beer there is not in all the world as I have. I hear that a
storm struck your ship about Rafia? Ye should give a bounteous offering
to the gods for preserving you. In Memphis a man might not see a storm
all his life, but at sea it is easier to meet lightning than a copper
uten. I have mead, flour, incense for holy sacrifices, and here, in the
corner, stand the gods of all nations. In my inn a man may still his
hunger and be pious for very slight charges.
He turned and went to the gallery among the merchants. Eat and
drink, worthy lords, incited he, making obeisance. The times are
good. The most worthy heir may he live for ever! is going to Pi-Bast
with an enormous retinue, but from the upper kingdom a transport of
gold has come, of which more than one of you will win a good portion. I
have partridges, young goslings, fish direct from the river, perfect
roast venison. And what wine they have sent me from Cyprus! May I be
turned into a Jew if a goblet of that luxury is not worth two drachmas,
but to you, my benefactors and fathers, I will give it today for one
drachma, only today, to make a beginning.
Give it for half a drachma a goblet, and we will taste it, said
one of the merchants.
Half a drachma! repeated the host. Sooner will the Nile flow
upward toward Thebes than I give such sweetness for half a drachma,
unless I do it for thee, Lord Belezis, who art the pearl of Sidon. Hei,
slaves! bring to our benefactors the largest pitcher of wine from
Cyprus.
When the innkeeper had walked on, the merchant named Belezis said to
his companions,
May my hand wither if that wine is worth half a drachma! But never
mind! We shall have less trouble with the police hereafter.
Conversation with guests of all nations and conditions did not
prevent the host from looking at the scribes who noted down food and
drink, at the watchman who stared at the scribes and the servants, and
above all at a traveler who had seated himself on cushions in the front
gallery, with his feet under him, and who was dozing over a handful of
dates and a goblet of pure water. That traveler was about forty years
old, he had abundant hair and beard of raven color, thoughtful eyes,
and wonderfully noble features which seemed never to have been wrinkled
by anger or distorted by fear.
That is a dangerous rat! thought the innkeeper, frowning. He has
the look of a priest, but he wears a dark coat. He has left gold and
jewels with me to the value of a talent, and he neither eats meat nor
drinks wine. He must be a great prophet or a very great criminal.
Two naked serpent tamers came into the courtyard bearing a basket
full of poisonous reptiles, and began their exhibition. The younger one
played on a flute, while the elder wound around his body snakes big and
little, any one of which would have sufficed to drive away guests from
the inn Under the Ship.
The flute-player gave out shriller and shriller notes; the serpent-tamer squirmed, foamed at the mouth, quivered convulsively, and
irritated the reptiles till one of them bit him on the hand, another on
the face, while he swallowed alive a third one, the smallest.
The guests and the servants looked at the exhibition of the serpent-tamer with alarm. They trembled when he irritated the reptiles, they
closed their eyes when they bit him; but when the performer swallowed
one of the snakes, they howled with delight and wonder.
The traveler in the front gallery, however, did not leave his
cushions, he did not deign even to look at the exhibition. But when the
tamer approached for pay, he threw to the pavement two copper utens,
giving a sign with his hand not to come nearer.
The exhibition lasted half an hour perhaps. When the performers left
the courtyard, a negro attending to the chambers of the inn rushed up
to the host and whispered something anxiously. After that, it was
unknown whence, a decurion of the police appeared, and when he had
conducted Asarhadon to a remote window, he conversed long with him. The
worthy owner of the inn beat his breast, clasped his hands, or seized
his head. At last he kicked the black man in the belly, and commanded
him to give the police official a roast goose and a pitcher of Cyprus
wine; then he approached the guest in the front gallery, who seemed to
doze there un brokenly, though his eyes were open.
I have evil news for thee, worthy lord, said the host, sitting at
the side of the traveler.
The gods send rain and sadness on people whenever it pleases them,
replied the guest, with indifference.
While we were looking at the snake-tamers, continued the host,
pulling at his parti-colored beard, thieves reached the second story
and stole thy effects, three bags and a casket, of course very
precious.
Thou must inform the court of my loss.
Wherefore the court? whispered the host. With us thieves have a
guild of their own. We will send for their elder, and value the
effects; Thou wilt pay him twenty per cent of the value and all will be
found again. I can assist thee.
In my country, replied the guest, no man compounds with thieves,
and I will not. I lodge with thee, I trusted thee with my property, and
Thou wilt answer.
The worthy Asarhadon began to scratch his shoulder-blades.
Man of a distant region, continued he, in a lower voice, ye
Hittites and we Phoenicians are brothers, hence I advise thee sincerely
not to turn to an Egyptian court, for it has only one door, that by
which a man enters, but none by which he goes out.
The gods can conduct an innocent man through a wall, said the
Hittite.
Innocent! Who of us in the land of bondage is innocent? whispered
the host. Look in that direction; over there that commander of ten
policemen is finishing a goose, an excellent young goose, which I
myself would have eaten gladly. But dost Thou know why, taking it from
my own mouth, I gave that goose to him?
It was because the man came to inquire about thee.
When he said this, the Phoenician looked askance at the traveler,
who did not lose calmness for an instant.
He asked me, continued the host, that master of ten policemen
asked, 'What sort of man is that black one who sits two hours over a
handful of dates?' I replied: 'A very honorable man, the lord Phut.'
'Whence comes he?' 'From the country of the Hittites, from the city of
Harran; he has a good house there of three stories, and much land.'
'Why has he come hither?' 'He has come,' I replied, 'to receive five
talents from a certain priest, talents lent by his father.'
And dost Thou know, worthy lord, continued the innkeeper, what
that decurion answered? 'Asarhadon,' said he, 'I know that Thou art a
faithful servant of his holiness, Thou hast good food and pure wines;
for this reason I warn thee, look to thyself. Have a care of foreigners
who make no acquaintances, who avoid wine and every amusement, and are
silent. That Phut of Harran may be an Assyrian spy.' The heart died in
the when I heard this. But these words do not affect thee, said he,
indignantly, when he saw that the terrible suspicion of espionage did
not disturb the calm face of the Hittite.
Asarhadon, said the guest, after a while, I confided to thee
myself and my property. See to it, therefore, that my bags and my
casket are returned to me, for in the opposite case I shall complain of
thee to that same chief of tea who is eating the goose which was
intended for thee.
Well, but permit me to pay the thieves only fifteen per cent of the
value of the things, cried the host.
Thou hast no right to pay.
Give them even thirty drachmas.
Not an uten.
Give the poor fellows even ten drachmas.
Go in peace, Asarhadon, and beg the gods to return thee thy
reason, answered the traveler, with the same unchanging calmness.
The host sprang up, panting from anger.
The reptile! thought he. He has not come for a debt simply. He is
doing some business here. My heart tells me that he is a rich merchant,
or maybe an innkeeper who, in company with priests and judges, will
open another inn somewhere near this one. May the first fire of heaven
burn thee! May the leprosy devour thee! Miser, deceiver, criminal from
whom an honest man can make nothing.
The worthy Asarhadon had not succeeded yet in calming himself when
the sounds of a flute and a drum were heard on the street, and after a
while four dancers, almost naked, rushed into the courtyard. The
carriers and sailors greeted them with shouts of delight, and even
important merchants in the galleries looked at them with curiosity and
made remarks on their beauty. The dancers with motions of the hands and
with smiles greeted all the company. One began to play on a double
flute, another accompanied with a drum, and the two others danced
around the court in such fashion that there was hardly a guest whom
their muslin shawls did not strike as they whirled.
Those who were drinking began to sing, shout, and call to the
dancers, while among the common herd a quarrel sprang up which the
inspectors settled with canes. A certain Libyan, angered at sight of
the canes, drew a knife, but two black men seized his arms, took from
him some bronze rings as pay for food, and hurled him out to the
street. Meanwhile one of the dancers remained with the sailors, two
went among the merchants who offered them wine and cakes, and the
oldest passed among the tables to make a collection.
By the sanctuary of the divine Isis! cried she, pious strangers,
give offerings to the goddess who guards all creation. The more you
give the more happiness and blessing will come to you. For the
sanctuary of Mother Isis!
They threw onto her drum coils of copper wire, sometimes a grain of
gold. One merchant asked if it were permitted to visit her, to which
she nodded with a smile.
When she entered the front gallery, Phut of Harran reached for his
leather bag and took out a gold ring, saying,
Is tar is a great and good goddess; take this for her sanctuary.
The priestess looked quickly at him and whispered,
Anael, Sachiel.
Amabiel, Abalidot, answered the traveler, in the same low tone.
I see that Thou lovest Mother Isis, said the priestess, aloud.
Thou must be wealthy and art bountiful, so it is worth while to
soothsay for thee.
She sat down near him, ate a couple of dates, and looking at his
hand began,
Thou art from a distant region, from Bretor and Hagit. [The spirits
of the northern and eastern parts of the world.]Thou hast had a
pleasant journey. For some days the Phoenicians are watching thee,
added she, in a lower voice.
Thou hast come for money, though Thou art not a merchant. Visit me
this day after sunset. Thy wishes will be accomplished, said she,
aloud. They should be accomplished. I live on the Street of Tombs in
the house of the Green Star, whispered she. But beware of thieves who
are watching for thy property, finished she, seeing that the worthy
Asarhadon was listening.
There are no thieves in my house! burst out the Phoenician. None
steal except those who come from the street.
Be not angry, old man, replied the priestess, jeeringly, or a red
line will come out oil thy neck right away; that means an unlucky
death.
When he heard this, Asarhadon spat three times, and in a low voice
repeated a charm against evil predictions. When he had moved away to
the depth of the gallery, the priestess began to coquet with the Harran
man. She gave him a rose from her crown, embraced him at parting, and
went to the other tables.
The traveler beckoned to the host.
I wish, said he, that woman to come to me. Give command to
conduct her to my chamber.
Asarhadon looked into his eyes, clapped his hands, and burst out
laughing.
Typhon has possessed thee, O man of Harran! cried he. If anything
of that sort happened in my house with an Egyptian priestess, they
would drive me out of the city. Here it is permissible to receive only
foreign women.
In that case I will go to her, answered Phut, for she is a wise
and devout person, and has told me of many happenings. After sunset
Thou wilt give me a guide, so that I may not go astray.
All the evil spirits have entered thy heart, said Asarhadon. Dost
Thou know that this acquaintance will cost thee two hundred drachmas,
perhaps three hundred, not counting that which Thou must give the
servants and the sanctuary. For such a sum, or say five hundred
drachmas, Thou mayst make the acquaintance of a young and virtuous
woman, my daughter, who is now fourteen years of age, and like a
prudent girl is collecting for herself a dowry. Do not wander in the
night through a strange city, for Thou wilt fall into the hands of the
police or of thieves, but make use of that which the gods give thee at
home. Dost Thou wish?
But will thy daughter go with me to Harran? inquired Phut.
The innkeeper looked at him with astonishment. All at once he struck
his forehead, as if he had divined a secret, and seizing the traveler
by the hand, he drew him to a quieter place at the window.
I know all, whispered he, excitedly. Thou art dealing in women.
But remember that for taking away one Egyptian woman Thou mayst lose
thy property and go to the quarries. But perhaps Thou wilt take me into
thy company, for here I know every road.
In that case show me the road to the priestess, said Phut.
Remember that after sunset Thou art to have a guide for me, and
to-morrow my bags and casket, otherwise I shall complain to the court.
Then Phut left the gallery and went to his chamber on a higher
story.
Asarhadon with anger approached a table at which Phoenician
merchants were drinking, and called aside one of them named Kush.
Thou bringest beautiful guests to me! said he, unable to restrain
the quivering of his voice. That Phut eats almost nothing, and now, as
if to insult my house, he is going out to an Egyptian dancer instead of
giving presents to my women.
What wonder in that? answered Kush, smiling. He could find a
Phoenician woman in Sidon, but here he prefers an Egyptian. A fool is
he who in Cyprus does not taste Cyprus wine, but Tyrian beer.
But I say, broke in the host, that that man is dangerous. He
seems to be a citizen, though he looks like a priest.
Thou, Asarhadon, hast the look of a high priest, though Thou art
only an innkeeper. A bench does not cease to be a bench, though it has
a lion's skin on it.
But why does he go to priestesses? I would swear that that is a
pretence, and that this churlish Hittite, instead of going to a feast
with women, is going to some meeting of conspirators.
Anger and greed have darkened thy reason, answered Kush, with
impatience. Thou art like a man who looking for melons on a fig-tree
sees not the figs on it. It is clear to any merchant that if Phut is to
collect five talents from a priest he must win favors from all who go
around in the sanctuaries. But Thou hast no understanding.
My heart tells me that this must be an Assyrian ambassador watching
to destroy his holiness.
Kush looked with contempt on Asarhadon.
Watch him, then; follow every step of his. If Thou discover
anything, perhaps Thou wilt get some part of his property.
Oh, now them hast given wise counsel, said the host. Let that rat
go to the priestesses, and from them to places unknown to me. But I
will send after him my vision, from which nothing will be secret.
CHAPTER XX
About nine in the evening Phut left the inn Under the Ship in
company with a negro who carried a torch. Half an hour earlier
Asarhadon sent out a confidential servant, commanding him to observe
carefully if the guest from Harran left the house of the Green Star,
and if so to follow him.
A second confidential servant went at a certain distance behind
Phut; in the narrower streets he hid among the houses, on the broader
ones he feigned drunkenness.
The streets were empty; carriers and hucksters were sleeping. There
was light only in the houses of artisans who were at work, or in those
of rich people who were feasting on the terraces. In various houses
were heard the sounds of harps and flutes, songs, laughter, the blows
of hammers, the sound of saws in the hands of cabinet makers; at times
the cry of a drunken man, or a call for assistance.
The streets along which Phut and the slave passed were narrow for
the greater part, crooked and full of holes. As they approached the end
of the journey, the stone houses were lower and lower, those of one
story more frequent, and there were more gardens, or rather palms,
fig-trees, and stunted acacias, which, inclining out from between the
walls, seemed to have the intention to escape from their places. On the
Street of Tombs the view changed on a sudden. In place of stone
buildings there were broad gardens, and in the middle of them splendid
villas. The negro stopped before one of the gates and quenched his
torch.
Here is the 'Green Star,' said he, and, making a low bow to Phut,
he turned homeward.
The man of Harran knocked at the gate. After a while the gatekeeper
appeared. He looked attentively at the stranger, and muttered,
Anael, Sachiel.
Amabiel, Abalidot, answered Phut.
Be greeted, said the gatekeeper; and he opened quickly to the
visitor.
When he had passed some tens of steps between trees, Phut found
himself in the antechamber of the villa, where the priestess whom he
knew greeted him. Farther in stood some man with black beard and hair;
so much like the man of Harran was he, that Phut could not hide his
astonishment.
He will take thy place in the eyes of those who are spying thee,
said the priestess, smiling.
The man who was disguised as Phut put a garland of roses on his
head, and in company with the priestess went to the first story, where
the sound of flutes and the clatter of goblets were heard soon after.
Meanwhile two inferior priests conducted Phut to a bath in the garden.
After the bath they curled his hair and put white robes on him.
From the bath all three went out again among the trees, passed a
number of gardens, and found themselves in an empty space finally.
There, said one of the priests, are the ancient tombs; on that
side is the city, and here the temple. Go whithersoever Thou wishest.
May wisdom point out the road to thee, and sacred words guard thee from
perils.
The two priests went back to the garden, and Phut was in solitude.
The moonless night was rather clear. From afar, covered with mist,
glittered the Nile; higher up gleamed the seven stars of the Great
Bear. Over the head of the stranger was Orion, and above the dark
pylons flamed the star Sirius.
The stars shine in our land more brightly, thought Phut.
He began to whisper prayers in an unknown tongue, and turned toward
the temple.
When he had gone a number of steps, from one of the gardens a man
pushed out and followed him. But almost at that very moment such a
thick fog fell on the place that it was quite impossible to see aught
save the roofs of the temple.
After a certain time the man of Harran came to a high wall. He
looked up at the sky and began to go westward. From moment to moment
night birds and great bats flew above him.
The mist had become so dense that he was forced to touch the wall so
as not to lose it. The journey had lasted rather long when all at once
Phut found himself before a low door with a multitude of bronze nail
heads. He fell to counting these from the left side on the top; at the
same time he pressed some of them powerfully, others he turned.
When he had pressed the last nail at the bottom, the door opened.
The man of Harran advanced a few steps, and found himself in a narrow
niche where there was utter darkness.
He tried the ground carefully with his foot till he struck upon
something like the brink of a well from which issued coolness. He sat
down then and slipped fearlessly into the abyss, though he found
himself in that place and in Egypt for the first time.
The opening was not deep. Phut stood erect on a sloping pavement,
and began to descend along a narrow corridor with as much confidence as
if he had known the passage for a lifetime.
At the end of the corridor was a door. By groping the stranger found
a knocker, and struck three times with it. In answer came a voice, it
was unknown from what direction.
Hast thou, who art disturbing in a night hour the peace of a holy
place, the right to enter?
I have done no wrong to man, child, or woman. Blood has not stained
my hands. I have eaten no unclean food. I have not taken another's
property. I have not lied. I have not betrayed the great secret,
answered the man of Harran, calmly.
Art Thou he for whom we are waiting, or he who in public Thou
declarest thyself to be? inquired the voice, after a while.
I am he who was to come from brethren in the East; but that other
name is mine also, and in the northern city I possess a house and land,
as I have told other persons.
The door opened, and Phut walked into a spacious cellar which was
lighted by a lamp burning on a small table before a purple curtain. On
the curtain was embroidered in gold a winged globe with two serpents.
At one side stood an Egyptian priest in a white robe.
Dost them who hast entered, asked the priest, pointing at Phut,
know what this sign on the curtain signifies?
The globe, answered the stranger, is an image of the world on
which we live; the wings indicate that it is borne through space like
an eagle.
And the serpents? asked the priest.
The two serpents remind him who is wise that whoso betrays the
great secret will die a double death, he will die soul and body.
After a moment of silence the priest continued,
If Thou art in real fact Beroes (here he inclined his head), the
great prophet of Chaldea (he inclined his head a second time), for
whom there is no secret in heaven or on earth, be pleased to inform thy
servant which star is the most wonderful.
Wonderful is Hor-set, [Jupiter] which encircles heaven in the
course of twelve years; for four smaller stars go around it. But the
most wonderful is Horka, [Saturn] which encircles heaven in thirty
years; for it has subject to it not only stars, but a great ring which
vanishes sometimes.
On hearing this, the Egyptian priest prostrated himself before the
Chaldean. Then he gave him a purple scarf and a muslin veil, indicated
where the incense was, and left the cave with low obeisances.
The Chaldean remained alone. He put the scarf on his right shoulder,
covered his face with the veil, and, taking a golden spoon sprinkled
into it incense, which he lighted at the lamp before the curtain.
Whispering, he turned three times in a circle, and the smoke of the
incense surrounded him with a triple ring, as it were.
During this time a wonderful disturbance prevailed in the cave. It
seemed as if the top were rising and the sides spreading out. The t
purple curtain at the altar quivered, as if moved by hidden fingers.
The air began to move in waves, as if flocks of unseen birds were
flying through it.
The Chaldean opened the robe on his bosom, and drew forth a gold
medal covered with mysterious characters. The cave trembled, the sacred
curtain moved with violence, and little flames appeared in space at
various points.
Then the seer raised his hands and began,
Heavenly Father, gracious and merciful, purify my spirit. Send down
on Thy unworthy servant a blessing, and extend Thy almighty arm against
rebellious spirits, so that I may manifest Thy power.
Here is the sign which I touch in thy presence. Here I am I,
leaning on the assistance of that God, the foreseeing and the fearless.
I am mighty, and summon and conjure thee. Come hither with obedience in
the name of Aye, Saraye, Aye Saraye!
At that moment from various sides were heard voices as of distant
trumpets. Near the lamp some bird flew past, then a robe of ruddy
color, afterward a man with a tail, finally a crowned cock which stood
on the table before the curtain.
The Chaldean spoke again, f
In the name of the Almighty and Eternal Amorul, Tanecha, Rabur,
Latisten.
Distant sounds of trumpets were heard for a second time.
In the name of the just and ever-living Eloy, Archima, Rabu, I
conjure and summon thee. In the name of the star, which is the sun, by
this its sign, by the glorious and awful name of the living God.
The trumpets sounded again, and stopped on a sudden. Before the
altar appeared a crowned vision with a scepter in its hand, and sitting
on a lion.
Beroes! Beroes! cried the vision, with a restrained voice. Why
dost Thou summon me?
I wish my brethren of this temple to receive me with sincere
hearts, and incline their ears to the words which I bring them from
brethren in Babylon, said the Chaldean.
Be it so, said the vision, and vanished.
The Chaldean stood as motionless as a statue, with his head thrown
back, with hands lifted upward. He stood thus half an hour in a
position impossible for an ordinary person.
During this time a part of the wall which formed one side of the
cave pushed back, and three Egyptian priests entered. At sight of the
Chaldean, who seemed to lie in the air, resting his shoulders on an
invisible support, the priests looked at one another with amazement.
The eldest said,
Long ago there were men like this among us, but no one has such
power in our day.
They walked around him on all sides, touched his stiffened members,
and looked with fear at his face, which was bloodless and sallow, like
that of a corpse.
Is he dead? asked the youngest.
After these words the body of the Chaldean, which had been bent
backward, returned to a perpendicular position. On his face appeared a
slight flush, and his upraised hands dropped. He sighed, rubbed his
eyes like a man roused from sleep, looked at the priests, and said
after a while, turning to the eldest,
Thou art Mefres, high priest of the temple of Ptah in Memphis. Thou
art Herhor, high priest of Amon in Thebes, the first dignity in this
state after the pharaoh. Thou, he indicated the youngest, art
Pentuer, the second prophet in the temple of Amon, and the adviser of
Herhor.
Thou art undoubtedly Beroes, the high priest and sage of Babylon,
whose coming was announced to us a year ago, answered Mefres.
Thou hast told truth, said the Chaldean.
He embraced them in turn, and they inclined before him.
I bring you great words from our common fatherland, which is
Wisdom, said Beroes. Be pleased to listen and act as is needful.
At a sign from Herhor, Pentuer withdrew to the rear of the cave and
brought out three armchairs of light wood for his superiors, and a low
stool for his own use. He seated himself near the lamp, and took from
his bosom a small dagger and wax-covered tablets.
When all three had occupied their chairs, the Chaldean began,
Mefres, the highest college of priests in Babylon addresses thee:
'The sacred order of priests in Egypt is falling. Many priests collect
money and women, and pass their lives amid pleasure. Wisdom is
neglected. Ye have no power over the world, which is invisible. Ye have
no power over your own souls. Some of you have lost the highest faith,
and the future is concealed from you. Things worse than this even
happen; for many priests, feeling that their spiritual power is
exhausted, have entered the way of falsehood and deceive simple people
by cunning devices.'
The highest college says this: 'If ye wish to return to the good
road, Beroes will remain some years with you, so as to rouse true light
on the Nile by the aid of a spark brought from the high altar of
Babylon.'.
All is as Thou sayest, answered Mefres, confused. Remain with us
therefore a number of years, so that the youth growing up at present
may remember thy wisdom.
And now, Herhor, to thee come words from the highest college.
Herhor inclined his head.
Because ye neglect the great secrets, your priests have not noted
that evil years are approaching Egypt. Ye are threatened by internal
disasters from which only virtue and wisdom can save you. But the worst
is that if in the course of the coming decade ye begin war with
Assyria, she will defeat your forces. Her armies will come to the Nile
and destroy all that has existed here for ages.
Such an ominous juncture of stars as is now weighing on Egypt
happened first during the XIV. dynasty, when the Hyksos kings captured
and plundered this country. It will come for the third time in five or
six hundred years from Assyria and the people of Paras, who dwell to
the east of Chaldea.
The priests listened in terror. Herhor was pale; the tablets fell
from Pentuer's fingers; Mefres held the amulet hanging on his breast,
and prayed while his lips were parching.
Be on your guard then against Assyria, continued the Chaldean,
for her hour is the present. The Assyrians are a dreadful people! They
despise labor, they live by war. They conquer, they impale on stakes or
flay living people, they destroy captured cities and lead away their
inhabitants to bondage. For them to kill savage beasts is repose; to
pierce prisoners with arrows or scoop out their eyes is amusement.
Temples they turn into ruins, the vessels of the gods they use at their
banquets, and make buffoons of priests and sages. They adorn their
walls with skins torn from living people, and their tables with the
blood-stained skulls of their enemies.
When the Chaldean ceased speaking, the worthy Mefres answered,
Great prophet, Thou hast cast fear on our souls, and dost not
indicate a remedy. It may be true, and to a certainty is so, since Thou
hast said it, that the fates for a certain time will be against us, but
how avoid this predicament? In the Nile there are dangerous places
through which no boat can pass safely; so the wisdom of the helmsmen
avoids deadly whirlpools. It is the same with misfortunes of nations. A
nation is a boat, and an epoch is the river, which at certain periods
has whirlpools. If the frail boat of a fisherman can avoid peril, why
should not millions of people escape under similar conditions?
Thy words are wise, replied Beroes, but I can answer in part
only.
Dost Thou not know all that will happen? asked Herhor.
Ask me not touching that which I know, but which I may not disclose
at this moment. Most important in your case is to keep peace for ten
years with Assyria. Ye have power to do that. Assyria still dreads you;
she knows not the juncture of evil fates above Egypt, and desires to
wage war with northern and eastern nations who live near the seacoast.
Ye might, therefore, conclude a treaty today with Assyria.
On what conditions? asked Herhor.
On very good ones. Assyria will yield to you the land of Israel as
far as the city of Akko, and the land of Edom to the city of Elath. So
your boundaries will be advanced ten days march toward the north
without war, and ten days toward the east also.
But Phoenicia? inquired Herhor.
Approach not temptation! exclaimed Beroes. If the pharaoh were to
stretch his hand today toward Phoenicia, in a month Assyrian armies
intended for the north and east would turn southward, and a year hence
or earlier their horses would be swimming in your sacred river.
Egypt cannot renounce influence over Phoenicia, interrupted
Herhor, with an outburst.
Should she not renounce she would prepare her own ruin, said the
Chaldean. Moreover, I repeat the words of the highest college: 'Tell
Egypt,' declared the brothers in Babylon, 'to cower to the earth for
ten years, like a partridge, for the falcon of evil fate is watching
her. Tell her that we Chaldeans hate Assyria more than do the
Egyptians, for we endure the burden of its rule; but still we recommend
to the Egyptians peace with that bloodthirsty nation. Ten years is a
short period; after that not only can ye regain your ancient place, but
ye can save us.'.
That is true! added Mefres.
Only consider, continued the Chaldean, should Assyria begin war
with you, she would involve also Babylon, which hates warfare. War will
exhaust our wealth and stop the labor of wisdom. Even were ye not
defeated your country would be ruined for a long period. Ye would lose
not only people, but the fertile soil, which would be buried by sand in
the absence of earth-tillers.
We understand that, replied Herhor; hence we have no thought of
attacking Assyria. But Phoenicia.
What harm will it be to you, asked Beroes, if the Assyrian robber
squeezes the Phoenician thief? Your merchants and ours will gain by
such action. But if ye want Phoenicians, let them settle on your
shores. I am sure that the richest and most adroit of them would flee
from Assyrian conquest.
What would happen to our fleet, if the Assyrians settled in
Phoenicia? inquired Herhor.
That is not your fleet, but the Phoenician, replied Beroes. When
Tyrian and Sidonian ships are lost to you, ye will build your own, and
exercise Egyptians in navigation. If ye have mind and a practical
character, ye will drive out Phoenician commerce from western regions.
Herhor waved his hand.
I have told that which was commanded me, said Beroes, and do ye
that which pleaseth you. But remember that ten evil years are
impending.
It seems to me, holy father, said Pentuer, that Thou didst speak
of internal troubles which threaten Egypt in the future. What will they
be, if it please thee to answer thy servant?
Do not ask. Those are things which ye ought to know better than I,
who am a stranger. Clear sight will discover the disease, and
experience will give the remedy.
Our working people are terribly oppressed by the great, whispered
Pentuer.
Devotion has decreased, added Mefres.
There are many who sigh for a foreign war, began Herhor. I have
seen this long time that we cannot carry on one, unless ten years
hence.
Then will ye conclude a treaty with Assyria? inquired the
Chaldean.
Amon, who knows my heart, answered Herhor, knows how repugnant
that treaty is to me. It is not so long since those vile Assyrians paid
us tribute. But if thou, holy father, and the highest college say that
the fates are against us, we must make the treaty.
We must indeed, added Mefres.
In that case inform the priests in Babylon of your decision, and
they will arrange that King Assar shall send an embassy to Egypt. This
treaty, believe me, is of great advantage; without war ye will increase
your possessions. Indeed our priesthood have given deep thought to this
question.
May all blessings fall on you, wealth, power, and wisdom, said
Mefres. Yes, we must raise our priestly order, and do thou, holy
Beroes, assist us.
There is need, above all, to assuage the suffering of the people.
put in Pentuer.
The priests! the people! said Herhor, as if to himself. Above
all, it is needful in this case to restrain those who wish war. It is
true that his holiness the pharaoh is with me, and I think I have
gained influence over the heir, may he live through eternity! But
Nitager, to whom war is as water to a fish; but the leaders of our
mercenary forces, who only in war have significance; but our
aristocracy, who think that war will pay Phoenician debts and give them
property.
Meanwhile earth-tillers are fainting beneath an avalanche of labor,
and public workmen are revolting against demands of overseers, added
Pentuer.
He is always expressing his thought! said Herhor, in meditation.
Think thou, Pentuer, of earth-tillers and laborers; thou, Mefres, of
the priests. I know not what ye will effect, but I swear that if my own
son favored war I would bind and destroy him.
Act in this way, said Beroes, let him carry on war who wishes,
but not in those regions where he can meet Assyria.
With this the session ended. The Chaldean put his scarf on his
shoulder and the veil on his face; Mefres and Herhor, one on each side
of him, and behind him Pentuer, all turned toward the altar.
When Beroes had crossed his hands on his breast, he whispered, and
again subterranean disturbance set in, and they heard as it were a
distant uproar, which astonished the assistants.
Baralanensis, Baldachiensis, Paumachiae, said the seer, aloud, I
summon thee to witness our stipulations and support our wishes.
The sound of trumpets was heard so distinctly that Mefres bowed to
the earth, Herhor looked around in astonishment, while Pentuer knelt,
fell to trembling, and covered his ears.
The purple curtain at the altar shook, and its folds took such a
form as if a man were behind who wished to pass through it.
Be witnesses, cried the Chaldean, in a changed voice, ye powers
above and ye powers beneath! And cursed be he who observes not this
treaty or betrays its secret.
Cursed! repeated some voice.
And destroyed!
And destroyed.
In this visible and in that invisible life. By the ineffable name
of Jehovah, at the sound of which the earth trembles, the sea draws
back, fire quenches, and the elements of nature become evident.
A real tempest rose in the cave. The sound of trumpets was mingled
with voices, as it were, of distant thunders.
The curtain of the altar rose almost horizontally, and behind it,
amid glittering lightning, appeared wonderful creatures, half human,
half plant and animal, crowded and mingled together.
Suddenly all was silent, and Beroes rose slowly in the air, higher
than the heads of the priests there attending.
At eight o'clock next morning Phut of Harran returned to the
Phoenician inn Under the Ship to which his bags and casket stolen by
thieves had been returned safely. A few minutes later came Asarhadon's
confidential servant, whom the innkeeper took to the cellar and
examined briefly,
Well?
I was all night on the square where the temple of Set is, answered
the servant. At ten in the evening out of the garden which lies about
four places farther than the house of the 'Green Star,' came three
priests. One of them, with black beard and hair, turned his steps
through the square toward the temple of Set. I ran after him, but mist
fell, and he vanished from my eyes. Whether he returned to the 'Green
Star' or when, I know not.
The innkeeper, when he had heard this account, struck his forehead
and muttered to himself,
So my man from Harran, if he dresses as a priest and goes to a
temple, must be a priest; and if he wears beard and hair, he must be a
Chaldean priest. But if he meets priests here in secret, there must be
some rogue's tricks. I will not tell the police, for I might be caught.
But I will inform some great man from Sidon, for there may be profit in
this, if not for me, for our people.
Soon the other messenger returned. Asarhadon went down to the cellar
with this one also, and heard the following narrative,
I stood all night in front of the 'Green Star.' The man of Harran
was there; he got drunk and raised such shouts that the policeman
warned the doorkeeper.
Did he? inquired the innkeeper. The man of Harran was at the
'Green Star' all night, and Thou didst see him?
Not only I, but the policeman.
Asarhadon brought down the first servant, and commanded each to
repeat his story. They repeated the stories faithfully, with the utmost
conviction. It appeared then that Phut of Harran had remained all night
at the Green Star without leaving the place for a moment; at the same
time he went to the temple of Set, and did not return from it.
Oh, muttered Asarhadon, in all this there is some very great
villainy. I must inform the elders of the Phoenician society, as
quickly as possible, that this Hittite knows how to be in two places at
once. I shall also beg him to move out of my inn. I do not take people
who have two forms, one their own, the other in supply. For a man of
that kind is a great criminal, a wizard, or a conspirator.
Asarhadon was afraid of such things; so he secured himself against
enchantment by prayers to all the gods which adorned his inn. Then he
hurried to the city, where he notified the elder of the Phoenician
society and the elder of the guild of thieves of what had happened.
Then, returning home, he summoned the decurion of police, and informed
him that Phut might be a dangerous person. Finally he asked the man of
Harran to leave the inn, to which he brought no profit, nothing but
loss and suspicion.
Phut agreed to the proposition willingly, and informed the innkeeper
that he intended to sail for Thebes that same evening.
May Thou never return! thought the hospitable host. May Thou rot
in the quarries, or fall into the river to be eaten by crocodiles.
CHAPTER XXI
Prince Ramses began his journey in the most beautiful season of the
year, during the month Phamenoth (end of December and beginning of
January). The river had fallen to half its height, laying bare new
strips of land day by day. From Thebes many barges with wheat were
sailing down toward the sea; in Lower Egypt clover and beans had been
harvested. Orange and pomegranate trees were covered with blossoms; in
the fields earth tillers had sown lupines, flax, barley, and had
planted various beans, cucumbers, and other garden products.
Escorted to the landing of Memphis by priests, the highest
dignitaries of the state, the guards of his holiness the pharaoh, the
heir entered a gilded barge about ten in the morning. Under the bridge,
on which were costly tents, twenty soldiers worked the oars, at the
mast and at both ends of the boat the best naval engineers had taken
their places. Some looked after the sails, others commanded the rowers,
while still others steered the vessel.
Ramses had invited to his boat the most worthy high priest Mefres
and the holy father Mentezufis, who were to be with him on the journey
and in governing. The prince had invited also the worthy nomarch of
Memphis, who conducted him to the boundary of his province.
Some hundreds of yards in front of the viceroy sailed the beautiful
boat of the worthy Otoes, nomarch of Aa, a province adjoining the
capital. Behind the prince came countless barges occupied by the court,
by priests, by officials and officers.
Provisions and servants had been dispatched earlier.
The Nile flows to Memphis between two lines of mountains. Farther
the mountains turn eastward and westward, and the river divides into a
number of arms in which the water flows through a broad plain to the
Mediterranean.
When the barge had pushed away from the landing, the prince wished
to converse with Mefres, the high priest. But at that moment such a
shout broke forth that he was forced to leave his tent and show himself
to the people.
The uproar grew greater, however, instead of subsiding. On both
shores stood and increased every moment throngs of half naked laborers,
or people of the city dressed in holiday garments. Very many had
garlands on their heads, almost all held green branches in their hands.
Some groups sang; among others were heard the beating of drums and the
sound of flutes.
Well-sweeps planted thickly along the river with buckets stood idle,
but on the Nile circled a swarm of small boats, the occupants of which
cast flowers at the barge of the viceroy. Some of them sprang into the
water and swam after the vessel.
They greet me as they would his holiness, thought the viceroy.
And great pride possessed his heart at sight of so many stately
barges which he could detain at one sweep of the hand, and those
thousands who had left their occupations and ran the risk even of death
just to see his divine countenance.
Ramses was delighted, especially by that immense shout which rose
from the people without ceasing for an instant. That shout filled his
breast, rose to his head, exalted him. It seemed to the prince that if
he should spring from the barge he would not touch water, for the
enthusiasm of the multitude would seize him and bear him aloft above
the earth, as a bird is borne in flying.
The barge approached the left bank somewhat; the forms of people
were outlined more clearly, and the prince saw something which he had
not expected. While persons in the first ranks were clapping their
hands and singing, in farther ones clubs were visible falling thickly
and swiftly on backs that were hidden.
The astonished heir turned to the nomarch of Memphis.
But look, worthiness, sticks are at work there.
The nomarch shaded his eyes with his hand, his neck became red.
Pardon, most worthy prince, but I see badly.
They are beating surely they are beating!
That is possible, answered the nomarch. Undoubtedly the priests
have caught a band of thieves there.
Not over-pleased with this conversation, the heir went toward the
stern to the engineers, who turned the barge suddenly toward the middle
of the river, and from that point he looked back at Memphis.
Both banks higher up the Nile were almost deserted, the boats had
disappeared, the well-sweeps were moving as if nothing had happened.
Is the solemnity over? inquired the prince of an engineer,
pointing to a higher place on the river.
It is. The people have returned to their work, said the engineer.
Very quickly.
They must recover lost time, said the engineer, incautiously.
The heir quivered, and looked at the man sharply. But he calmed
himself soon and returned to the tent. For him shouts were of no
further interest. He was gloomy and silent. After an outburst of pride,
he felt contempt for that throng which passed so promptly from
enthusiasm to well-sweeps and baling up muddy water.
At that point the Nile begins to separate into branches. The barge
of the chief of Aa turned toward the west, sailed an hour, and stopped
at the river bank. The crowds were still greater than at Memphis. A
multitude of pillars had been set up with banners and triumphal arches
entwined with green garlands. Among the people foreign faces and
garments were more and more frequent.
When the prince landed, the priests approached with a baldachin, and
the worthy nomarch Otoes began,
Be greeted, viceroy of the divine pharaoh, within the borders of
Aa. As a sign of thy favor, which for us is as heavenly dew, be pleased
to make an offering to the god Ptah, who is our patron, and take under
thy protection and control this province, with its temples, officials,
people, cattle, grain, and all that is here existent.
Then he presented a group of young exquisites, fragrant, rouged,
arrayed in gold-embroidered garments. Those were the remoter and nearer
relatives of the nomarch, the local aristocracy.
Ramses looked at them with attention.
Aha! said he. It seemed to me that these gentlemen lacked
something, and now I see what it is, they have no wigs.
Because thou, most worthy prince, dost not wear wigs, our young men
have vowed not to wear them, replied the nomarch.
After this explanation one of the young men stood behind the prince
with a fan, another with a shield, a third with a dart, and the
procession began. The heir walked under the baldachin, before him a
priest with a tube in which incense was burning; there were maidens
also who scattered roses on the path over which the prince was to
travel.
The people in holiday garments, with branches in their hands, formed
a line and shouted; they sang songs, or prostrated themselves before
the lieutenant of the pharaoh. But the prince saw that in spite of the
loud sounds of joy their faces were unenlivened and anxious. He saw
also that the crowd was divided into groups which people of some sort
were directing, and that the rejoicing took place by command. And again
he felt in his heart a chill of contempt for that throng which knew not
how to rejoice even.
Gradually the retinue approached the walled column which indicated
the boundary between Aa and Memphis. On three sides of the column were
inscriptions describing the extent of the province, its population, and
the number of its cities; on the fourth side was a statue of Ptah,
surrounded from foot to breast with an envelope; he had the usual cap
on his head and a staff in his hand.
One of the priests gave the prince a golden spoon with burning
incense. The heir uttered prescribed prayers, whirled the censer to the
height of the divinity's head, and bowed low a number of times in
succession.
The shouts of the people and of the priests rose ever higher, though
among youthful exquisites smiles and jests were observable. Since his
reconciliation with Herhor the prince had shown great respect for gods
and priests; so he frowned somewhat. In one moment the young men
changed their bearing. All became serious, while some fell on their
faces before the column.
Indeed, thought the prince, people of noble birth are better than
that rabble. Whatever nobles do they do it with spirit, not like those
who make an uproar in my honor but are glad to hurry back to their
workshops and stables.
Now he measured better than ever the distance between him and the
lowest people, and he understood that the aristocracy was the only
class to which he was bound by a community of feeling. If suddenly they
should vanish, those stately young men and beautiful women whose
flashing glances followed every one of his movements, so as to serve
him straightway and carry out his orders, if they should vanish, the
prince would feel more alone among the countless throngs of people than
in a desert.
Eight negroes brought a litter adorned above the baldachin with
ostrich feathers; the prince took his place in it, and advanced to the
capital of Sochem, where he dwelt in a government palace.
The prince's stay in that province, which was only a few miles from
Memphis, lasted a month. All this time he passed in receiving
petitions, in accepting homage, in official receptions, and at feasts.
The feasts were of two kinds, one in the palace, at which the
aristocracy were present; the other in the outer court, where whole
oxen were roasted, loaves of bread were eaten by the hundred, and
hundreds of pitchers of beer drunk. At these appeared servants of the
prince and the lower officials of the province.
Ramses admired the munificence of the nomarch, and the affection of
the great lords around him, alert to every beck of his and ready to
carry out his orders.
Wearied at last by amusements, Ramses declared to the worthy Otoes
that he wished to become more nearly acquainted with the management of
the province, for he had received a command from his holiness the
pharaoh to study it.
His desire was satisfied. The nomarch requested the prince to sit in
a litter borne by only two men, and with a great retinue escorted him
to the temple of Hator. There the retinue remained in the antechamber,
but the nomarch commanded the bearers to carry the prince to the summit
of a pylon, which he himself ascended.
From the summit of a tower, ninety feet high, whence priests
observed the sky and communicated through colored flags with the
neighboring temples in Memphis, Atribis, and Ann, the eye surveyed in
the radius of some miles almost a whole province.
From that place, too, the worthy Otoes showed Ramses the fields and
vineyards of the pharaoh; he showed what canal they were clearing, what
sluice they were repairing; he showed furnaces for smelting copper; he
showed where the royal granaries' stood, where the lotus and papyrus
swamps were, what fields were covered with sand, and so on till he had
finished.
Ramses was charmed with the beautiful view, and thanked Otoes warmly
for the pleasure which he experienced. But when he returned to the
palace, and, according to the advice of the pharaoh, noted impressions,
he convinced himself that his knowledge of the economic conditions of
Aa had not widened.
After some days he asked explanations again of Otoes touching the
administration of the province. The worthy lord commanded all the
officials to assemble and pass before the prince, who sat in the main
court on an elevation.
Before the viceroy moved great and petty treasurers; scribes of
grain, wine, cattle, woolen stuffs; chief masons, ditch-diggers, naval
and land engineers, healers of various diseases, officers over
regiments of laborers, police scribes, judges, inspectors of prisons,
even executioners and dissectors. After them the worthy nomarch
presented the prince's own officials in that province to him. Ramses
learned therefore, with no small astonishment, that in Aa and in the
city of Sochem he had his own personal charioteer, torch-bearer,
shield-bearer, dart-bearer, mace-bearer, some tens of litter-bearers, a
number of cooks, cup-bearers, barbers, and many other servitors
distinguished for attachment and faithfulness, though he had not even
heard their names and did not know them.
Tortured and tired by a barren review of officials, the prince's
courage fell. He was terrified by the thought that he understood
nothing, hence was unfitted to rule; but he feared to confess this even
to himself.
If Ramses could not rule Egypt, and others were able to rule it,
what remained to him? Nothing but death. Without the throne he could
have no happiness. He felt that for him life would be impossible unless
he had power.
But when he had rested a few days, in so far as rest was attainable
in that chaos of court life, he summoned Otoes, and said to him,
Worthiness, I have begged thee to acquaint me with the secret of
governing Aa. Thou hast done so, Thou hast shown me the country and the
officials, but still I know nothing. On the contrary, I am like a man
in the underground divisions of a temple who sees so many passages
about him that he is unable at last to find his way out into daylight.
The nomarch was confused.
What am I to do? asked he. What dost Thou wish of me, O ruler?
Only say the word and I will yield to thee office, property, even
life.
And, seeing that the prince received this assurance with
graciousness, he continued,
During thy journey Thou hast seen the people of this province. Thou
wilt say that all were not present. Agreed. I will command all to
assemble, and they are, men, women, old men, and children, about two
hundred thousand. From the summit of the pylon Thou wert pleased to
survey our whole province. But if it be thy wish, we can examine from
near by every field, every village, and every street of the city of
Sochem. Finally I have shown thee the officials; it is true, the very
lowest were absent. But command and all will stand before thee to-morrow and fall on their faces. What am I to do more? Tell me, most
worthy lord.
I believe that Thou art most faithful, answered Ramses. Therefore
explain to me two things: first, why has the income of his holiness
diminished? second, what art Thou doing thyself in the province?
Otoes was confused, and the prince added quickly,
I wish to know what Thou art doing here, and by what methods, since
I am young and only commencing to govern.
Thou hast the wisdom of a century, whispered the nomarch.
Therefore it is proper, continued the prince, that I should ask
men of experience and that Thou shouldst give me knowledge.
I will show thee all, and give every explanation, said Otoes. But
we should go to a place where there is no uproar.
In fact, in the palace which the prince occupied as many people
thronged in the inner and outer court as at a fair. They ate, drank,
sang, raced or rested, and all this to enhance the glory of the viceroy
whom they were serving.
About three in the afternoon, the nomarch gave command to bring two
horses, and with the prince he rode forth from the city westward. The
court remained in the palace and amused itself with still greater
gladness.
The day was beautiful, cool; the earth was covered with plants and
flowers. Over the beads of the horsemen were heard the songs of birds,
the air was full of fragrance.
How pleasant it is here! exclaimed Ramses. Now I am able to
collect ray thoughts for the first time in a month. I had begun to
think that a whole regiment of chariots had assembled in my head, and
that from morning till evening reviews were held there.
Such is the fate of a ruler in this world, said the nomarch.
They halted on an eminence. At their feet lay an immense meadow, cut
through by a blue stream. On the north and on the south were white
walls of towns; beyond the meadow on the rim of the horizon extended
the reddish sands of the western desert, from which came an occasional
breath of heated air, as if from a furnace.
On the meadow were countless herds of animals, horned and hornless
oxen, sheep, goats, asses, antelopes, even rhinoceroses.
Here and there were visible swampy places covered with water plants
and reeds in which were teeming wild geese, ducks, doves, storks,
pelicans, and ibises.
Behold, lord, said Otoes, a picture of our country, Quench,
Egypt. Osiris fell in love with this strip of laud in the midst of
deserts; he covered it with plants and living creatures, so as to have
from them profit. Then the kindly god took a human form and became the
first pharaoh. When he felt that his body was withering, he left it and
entered into his son, and later on into his son's son.
Thus Osiris lives among us, since the beginning of ages, as
pharaoh, and he gains profit from Egypt and its wealth which he himself
created. The lord has extended like a mighty tree. All the pharaohs are
his roots, the nomarchs and priests his larger branches, the nobles the
smaller branches. The visible god sits on the throne of the earth and
receives the income which belongs to him from Egypt; the invisible god
receives offerings in the temples, and declares his will through the
lips of the priesthood.
Thou utterest truth, said the viceroy. Thus is it written.
Since Osiris the pharaoh, continued the nomarch, cannot himself
be occupied in the management of the country, he has appointed us
nomarchs, who come of his blood, to watch over his property.
That is true, said Ramses. Sometimes even the sun god becomes
incarnate in a nomarch and begins a new dynasty. Thus rose the
dynasties of Memphis, Elephantina, Thebes, and Ksoi.
Thou hast said it, continued Otoes. But now I will answer that
which Thou hast asked of me.
Thou hast asked what I do in this province? I guard the property of
Osiris, the pharaoh, and my own part in it. Look at those flocks; Thou
seest various animals. Some give milk, others flesh, others wool and
skins. The people of Egypt give wheat, wine, woolen stuffs, vessels,
houses. My affair is to take from each what he should give, and lay it
down at the feet of the pharaoh.
In watching over the numerous herds I could not succeed alone; so I
have chosen watchful dogs and wise shepherds. Some of my servants milk
animals, shear them, remove their skins; others watch them so that
thieves may not steal or the plunderer injure. So with the province. I
could not collect all the taxes and guard men from evil; hence I have
officials who do what is proper, and render account of their action.
All this is true, interrupted the prince. I know and understand
what Thou sayest. But I cannot comprehend why the income of his
holiness decreases, though guarded well, as Thou hast told me.
Be pleased to remember, continued the nomarch, that Set, though a
full brother of the radiant Osiris, hates that god, wars with him, and
deforms all his labors. He sends deadly diseases on beasts and on men;
he causes the overflow of the Nile to be scant or over-violent, and he
hurls clouds of sand in time of heat upon Egypt.
When a year is good, the Nile reaches the desert; when it is bad,
the desert comes down to the Nile, and then the royal income decreases.
Look! continued he, pointing at the meadow. The flocks there are
numerous, but in my youth they were greater in number. But who is the
cause of this? No other than Set, whom human power cannot vanquish.
This meadow, great today, was once greater, and from this spot they
could not see the desert, which now is a terror.
When the gods are battling, men can do nothing; where Set conquers
Osiris, who can bar the way to him?
The worthy Otoes finished; the prince hung his head. In school he
had heard not a little about the love of Osiris and the malice of Set,
and while still a child he was angry that no one had forced Set to a
final reckoning.
When I grow up, thought he at that time, and carry a javelin, I
will seek out Set and we will make a trial.
And he was looking now at that measureless sand space, that kingdom
of the ominous godhead which was decreasing the income of Egypt; but he
had no thought to do battle with Set. For how can man fight with the
desert? Man can only avoid it or perish.
CHAPTER XXII
HIS stay in Aa had so wearied Ramses that to seek rest and rally his
thoughts he commanded to stop all solemnities in his honor, and
directed that during his journey people should never come forth to
greet him.
The prince's retinue were astonished, even somewhat offended; but
they carried out the command, and Ramses again found some quiet. He had
time to review his troops, which was his most agreeable occupation, and
he could collect his scattered thoughts in some measure.
Shut up in the remotest corner of the palace, the prince began to
consider how far he had carried out the commands of the pharaoh his
father.
He had surveyed Aa with his own eyes, its fields, towns, population,
officials. He had verified the fact that the eastern edge of the
province was yielding to the advance of the desert. He had observed
that laborers were indifferent and stupid; that they did only what was
commanded, and that with unwillingness. Finally, he had convinced
himself that really faithful and loving subjects were to be found only
among the aristocracy, for they were related to the family of the
pharaohs, or were of the noble order, and were grandsons of the men who
had fought under the great Ramses.
In every case those people rallied to the dynasty heartily, and were
ready to serve it with genuine readiness; not like the low people, who
when they had shouted a greeting ran back with all speed to their pigs
and their oxen.
But the chief object of his mission was not explained yet. Ramses
not only did not see clearly causes for the decrease of the royal
income, but he did not know how to formulate this question: Why is
there evil, and how can we correct it? He only felt that the legendary
war of the god Set with Osiris furnished no true explanation, and gave
no means of cure whatever.
But the prince, as the coming pharaoh, wished to have a great
income, like that of former rulers in Egypt. He was boiling with anger
at the very thought that when he had mounted the throne he would be as
poor as his father and perhaps even poorer.
Never! cried the prince, balling his fists.
To increase the royal property he was ready to rush sword in hand
against Set and hew that god into pieces, as Set had hewn his own
brother Osiris. But instead of the cruel divinity and his legions he
saw around him ignorance, the desert, and silence.
Under the influence of these struggles with his own thoughts, he
seized once the high priest Mefres.
Tell me, holy father, to whom all wisdom is familiar, why does the
income of the state decrease, and in what manner can we add to it?
Mefres raised his hands.
May the spirit be blessed, worthy lord, cried the priest, which
whispered such thoughts to thee. Oh, mayest Thou follow in the steps of
mighty pharaohs who built temples in all parts of Egypt, and through
canals and sluices increased the area of fertile land in this country.
The old man was so moved that he fell to weeping.
First of all, said the prince, answer what I ask; for how think
of temples and canals when the treasury is empty? The greatest
misfortune has befallen Egypt: its rulers are threatened with
indigence. We must examine this, first of all, and cure it; after that
the rest will come easily.
This, prince, Thou wilt learn only in temples, at the foot of the
altar, said the high priest. There alone can thy noble curiosity be
pacified.
Ramses started up with impatience.
Before thy eyes, worthy father, the temple hides the whole country,
even the treasury of the pharaoh. I am, for that matter, a priestly
pupil. I was reared in the shadow of a temple, I know the secret of the
spectacles in which the malice of Set is represented, with the death
and re-birth of Osiris, and what does that profit me? When my father
asks how to replenish the treasury, I can give him no answer. Should I
persuade him to pray longer and oftener than he does at the present?
Prince, Thou art blaspheming, Thou knowest not the high ceremonies
of religion. If Thou knew them Thou couldst answer many questions which
torment thee; and hadst Thou seen that which I have, Thou wouldst know
that the highest interest of Egypt is to support priests and temples.
Men in old age become children, thought Ramses; and he stopped the
conversation.
Mefres had been very pious at all times, but he had then grown
eccentric.
I should end well, thought Ramses, if I yielded to priests and
assisted at puerile ceremonies. Perhaps Mefres would even command me to
stand for whole hours at an altar, as he himself does, beyond doubt,
while expecting a miracle.
In the month Pharmuthi (end of January and beginning of February)
the prince took leave of Otoes, before starting for Hak, the next
province. He thanked the nomarchs and lords for their splendid
reception, but at heart he was sad, for he knew that he had not
mastered the problem put forth by his father.
Escorted by the family and court of Otoes, the prince with his
retinue crossed to the right bank of the river, where he was greeted by
Ranuzer, the worthy nomarch, together with the lords and the priests of
his province.
When the prince reached the land of Hak, the priests raised a statue
of Atmu, patron god of the province, and the officials fell prostrate;
then the nomarch brought a golden sickle to Ramses, and begged him to
open the harvest as viceroy of the pharaoh, that being the time to
gather in barley.
Ramses took the sickle, cut a couple of handfuls of ears, and burnt
them with incense before the god the guardian of the boundaries. After
him the nomarch and the great lords cut barley also, and at last
harvesters fell to reaping. They cut only ears, which they packed into
bags; the straw remained on the field behind them.
When he had heard a tedious service before the god, the prince
mounted a two-wheeled car, a division of the army moved on, and the
priests followed. Two lords led the horses of the heir by the bridles.
After the heir, on a second car, rode the nomarch, and next an immense
train of lords and court servitors. The people, agreeable to the will
of Ramses, did not present themselves, but laborers in the fields, at
sight of the procession, fell on their faces.
In this manner when he had passed a number of pontoon bridges thrown
over arms of the Nile and canals, the prince reached toward evening the
city of Anu, the capital.
For some days feasts of greeting continued; they rendered homage to
the heir, and presented officials. At last Ramses begged to interrupt
the festivities, and requested the nomarch to acquaint him with the
wealth of the province.
Next morning the review began, and lasted a fortnight. Every day in
the court of that palace where the heir had his residence appeared
various guilds of craftsmen. These came under command of guild
officers, to exhibit their productions. In turn came armorers and
swordsmiths, makers of spears and axes, manufacturers of musical
instruments, fifes, trumpets, drums, harps. After these came the great
guild of cabinetmakers, who exhibited armchairs, tables, couches,
litters, and carriages, ornamented with rich drawings, made of various
wood, mother- of-pearl, and ivory; then they brought kitchen utensils,
things for the fire, spits, two-eared pots, and flat pans with covers;
jewelers rivaled one another with gold rings of wonderful beauty, amber
bracelets and anklets, or chains made of gold mixed with silver. All
these were carved with artistic skill, and inlaid with precious stones
or enamel of various colors.
The procession was closed by potters who carried more than a hundred
kinds of earthen vessels. They brought vases, pots, plates, pitchers,
and jugs of the most varied forms and sizes, covered with paintings
ornamented with beast and bird heads.
Each guild made an offering to the prince of its most beautiful
productions. These filled a large hall, though among them no two things
were similar.
At the end of the curious but interesting exhibition, his worthiness
Ranuzer asked the prince if he was satisfied.
The heir thought awhile.
More beautiful things I have not seen except in the temples or in
the palaces of my father. But since only rich people can buy them, I do
not see how the state treasury can have much profit from those
objects.
The nomarch was astonished at the young lord's indifference, and was
alarmed by his anxiety about income; but wishing to satisfy Ramses, he
began then to conduct him through the royal factories.
One day they went to buildings where slaves were grinding flour in
many hundred hand-mills and in mortars. They went to bakeries where men
were baking bread and rusks to feed the army, and to places where
preserved fish and meat were in course of preparation. They examined
great tanneries, and shops where sandals were made, foundries where
copper was cast into arms and utensils. After that, brickyards, guilds
of weavers and tailors.
These establishments were situated in the eastern part of the city.
Ramses at first looked at them with interest, but very soon he was
disgusted with the sight of laborers who were timid, lean, sickly in
complexion, and who had scars left by sticks on their shoulders.
Thenceforth he stopped only briefly at factories. He preferred to look
at the environs of the city of Anu. Far to the east he could see the
desert where a year earlier the maneuvers had taken place between his
corps and Nitager's. He saw, like a thing on the palm of his hand, the
road by which his regiments had marched, the place where because of the
beetles the military engines had to turn to the desert, and perhaps
even the tree on which the canal digger had hanged himself.
From that elevation over there in company with Tutmosis he had
looked at the blooming land of Goshen and cursed the priesthood. And
there among the hills he had met Sarah, toward whom his heart had
flamed up on a sudden.
Today what changes! He had ceased to hate the priests from the hour
that by the influence of Herhor he had received the army corps and the
office of viceroy. He had become indifferent to Sarah, but that child
whose mother she would be grew to him more and more important.
What is she doing there? thought the prince. I have not had news
from her this long time.
While he was looking on those eastern hills in this way, and
thinking of the recent past, Ranuzer at the head of his escort felt
certain that the prince had observed abuses in the factories and was
meditating over means of punishment.
I am curious to know what he discovered, thought the worthy
nomarch. Is it that half the bricks are sold to the Phoenicians, or
that ten thousand sandals are lacking in the factory, or perhaps some
low wretch has whispered to him about the foundries?
And the nomarch's heart was anxious.
Suddenly the prince turned toward the escort and called Tutmosis,
who was bound to be at all times near his person.
Tutmosis ran up. The heir went to one side with him.
Hear me, said he, pointing toward the desert. Dost Thou see those
hills?
We were there last year, sighed the courtier.
I remember Sarah.
I will burn incense to the gods at once, cried Tutmosis, for I
thought that your worthiness had forgotten faithful servants since
becoming viceroy.
The prince looked at him and shrugged his shoulders.
Select, said he, from the gifts brought me, some of the most
beautiful vessels, utensils, stuffs, and, above all, chains and
bracelets, and take them to Sarah.
Live through eternity, O Ramses! exclaimed the exquisite, for
Thou art high-minded.
Tell her, continued the prince, that for her my heart is always
full of favor. Say that I wish her to care for her health. Tell Sarah
that when the time of freedom comes and I have carried out the commands
of my father, she will come to me and live in my house. I cannot endure
that the mother of my child should be grieving in loneliness. Go, do as
I have said, and return with pleasant tidings.
Tutmosis prostrated himself before the noble ruler, and took the
road straightway. The retinue of Ramses, unable to divine the
conversation, envied Tutmosis the favor of the viceroy, while the
worthy Ranuzer felt alarm rising in his soul.
Oh, said he, anxiously, may I not need to raise hands on myself
and leave my house in the bloom of my years! Why did I, the
unfortunate, when taking the pharaoh's goods, not think of the hour of
trial?
His face became yellow, and his legs tottered under him. But the
prince, mastered by a wave of reminiscences, took no note of this
change in the nomarch.
CHAPTER XXIII
IN the city of Anu a series of feasts and amusements now followed.
The worthy nomarch brought the choicest wines from his cellars; from
the three neighboring provinces came the most beautiful dancers, the
most famous musicians, the adroitest of jugglers. The prince's time was
occupied thoroughly, every morning reviews of troops and receptions;
later feasts, spectacles, hunting, and feasts again.
But just when Ranuzer felt certain that the viceroy was tired of
questions of administration and economy, the latter summoned him, and
asked,
Thy province, worthiness, is among the richest in Egypt, is it
not?
Yes, though we have had a number of hard years, replied Ranuzer;
and again his heart sank and his legs began to tremble.
But this astonishes me, said the prince, that year after year the
income of his holiness decreases. Canst Thou not explain to me the
cause of this?
Lord, said the nomarch, bending his head to the earth, I see that
my enemies have sown distrust in thy soul; whatever I might say,
therefore, would not convince thee. Permit me not to speak. Better let
scribes come with documents, which Thou canst touch with thy hand and
verify.
The prince was somewhat astonished at the unexpected outburst, but
he accepted the offer; nay, he was glad of it. He thought, of course,
that the report of these scribes would explain to him the secret of
government.
The next day, therefore, came the chief scribe of Hak, and with him
his assistants. They brought from ten to twenty rolls of papyrus
written on both sides. When unwound, they formed a strip three spans of
a great hand in width and in length sixty paces. For the first time the
prince saw so gigantic a document, containing an inventory of one
province only and that for one year.
The chief scribe sat on the floor with his legs doubled under him,
and began,
In the thirty-third year of the reign of his holiness
Meramen-Ramses the Nile was late in its overflow. Earth-tillers,
ascribing this misfortune to the black art of foreigners resident in
the province of Hak, fell to wrecking the houses of Hittites, Jews, and
Phoenicians, during which time a number of persons were slain by them.
At command of his worthiness the nomarch, those guilty were brought to
the court; twenty-five earth-tillers, two masons, and five
sandal-makers were condemned to the quarries, one boatman was
strangled.
What is that document? interrupted the prince.
It is the report of the court intended for the feet of his
holiness.
Put it aside, and read about the income of the treasury.
The assistants of the chief scribe folded the rejected document, and
gave him others. Again the official began,
On the fifth day of the month Thoth six hundred measures of wheat
were brought to the granaries of the pharaoh; for these a receipt was
issued by the chief overseer.
On the seventh day of Thoth the chief scribe discovered and
verified a statement that from the supply of the previous year one
hundred and forty-eight measures of wheat had vanished.
During the verification two laborers stole a measure of grain and
hid it among bricks. When this was proven they were brought to judgment
and sent to the quarries for raising their hands to the property of his
holiness.
But the hundred and forty-eight measures? asked the heir.
The mice ate them, replied the scribe, and read on.
On the eighth day of Thoth twenty cows and eighty-four sheep were
sent to the slaughter; these, at command of the overseer of oxen, were
issued to the Sparrow-Hawk regiment.
In this manner the viceroy learned day after day how much wheat,
barley, beans, and lotus seed were weighed into the granaries, how much
given out to the mills, how much stolen, and how many laborers were
condemned to the quarries for stealing. The report was so wearisome and
chaotic that in the middle of the month Paophi the prince gave command
to stop reading.
Tell me, chief scribe, said Ramses, what dost Thou understand
from this? What dost Thou learn from it?
Everything which thy worthiness commands.
And he began again at the beginning, but from memory,
On the fifth of the month Thoth they brought to the granaries of
the pharaoh.
Enough! cried the enraged prince; and he commanded the man to
depart.
The scribes fell on their faces, gathered up their papyruses
quickly, and bore them away in a twinkle.
The prince summoned the nomarch. He came with crossed hands, but
with a calm face, for he had learned from the scribes that the viceroy
could understand nothing from reports, and that he did not give ear to
them.
Tell me, worthiness, began the heir, do they read reports to
thee?
Every day.
And dost Thou understand them?
Pardon, most worthy lord, but could I manage a province if I did
not understand?
The prince was confused and fell to thinking. Could it be really
that he, Ramses, was the only incompetent? But in this case what would
become of his power?
Sit down, said he, after a while, indicating a chair to the
nomarch. Sit down and tell me how Thou governest the province.
The dignitary grew pale, and the whites of his eyes turned upward.
Ramses noticed this, and began explaining,
Do not think that I have not trust in thy wisdom. On the contrary,
I know no man who could manage better. But I am young and curious to
know the art of government, so I beg thee to deal out to me crumbs of
thy knowledge. Thou art ruling the province I know that. Now explain to
me the process.
The nomarch drew breath and began,
I will relate, worthiness, the whole course of my life, so Thou
shalt know how weighty my work is.
In the morning I bathe, then I give offerings to the god Amut; next
I summon the treasurer, and ask him whether the taxes for his holiness
are collected properly. When he answers yes, I praise him; when he says
that these and those people have not paid, I issue an order to imprison
the disobedient. Then I summon the overseers of the royal granaries, to
learn how much grain has been delivered. If much, I praise them; if
little, I issue an order to inflict stripes on the guilty.
Later comes the chief scribe, and tells me which of the estates of
his holiness needs troops, officials, and laborers, and I command to
send them in return for a receipt. When he gives out less, I praise
him; when more, I commence an investigation.
In the afternoon come Phoenician merchants, to whom I sell wheat
and bring money to the treasury of the pharaoh. Afterward I pray and
confirm the sentences of the court; toward evening the police inform me
of what has happened. No longer ago than the day before yesterday
people from my province fell upon the territory Ka and desecrated a
statue of the god Sebak. I was delighted in heart, for that god is not
our patron; still I condemned some of the guilty to strangulation, some
of them to the quarries, and all to receive stripes.
Hence peace and good habits prevail in my province, and the taxes
flow in daily.
Though the income of the pharaoh has decreased here also, added
Ramses.
Thou speakest truth, lord, sighed the worthy nomarch. The priests
say that the gods are angry with Egypt because of the influx of
foreigners; but I see that even the gods do not contemn gold and
precious stones brought by Phoenicians.
At that moment the priest Mentezufis, preceded by an officer in
waiting, entered the hall to beg the prince and the nomarch to a public
devotion. Both dignitaries consented, and the nomarch exhibited so much
piety that the prince was astonished. When Ranuzer left the company
with obeisances, Ramses said to the priest,
Since with me, holy prophet, Thou takest the place of the most
venerable Herhor, I beg thee to explain one thing which fills my heart
with anxiety .
Shall I be able to explain? asked the prophet.
Thou wilt answer me, for Thou art filled with wisdom, of which Thou
art the servant. But consider what I say Thou knowest why his holiness
sent me hither.
He sent thee, prince, to become familiar with the wealth of the
country and its institutions, said Mentezufis.
I am obeying. I examine the nomarchs, I look at the country and the
people. I listen to reports of scribes, but I understand nothing; this
poisons my life and astounds me.
When I have to do with the army, I know everything, how many
soldiers there are, how many horses, chariots, which officers drink or
neglect their service, and which do their duty, I know, too, what to do
with an army. When on a plain there is a hostile corps, I must take two
corps to beat it. If the enemy is in a defensive position, I should not
move without three corps. When the enemy is undisciplined and fights in
unordered crowds against a thousand, I send five hundred of our
soldiers and beat him. When the opposing side has a thousand men with
axes, and I a thousand, I rush at them and finish those troops, if I
have a hundred men with slings in addition.
In the army, holy father, continued Ramses, everything is as
visible as the fingers on my hand, and to every question an answer is
ready which my mind comprehends. Meanwhile in the management of a
province I not only see nothing, but there is such confusion in my head
that more than once I forget the object of my journey.
Answer me, therefore, sincerely, as a priest and an officer: What
does this mean? Are the nomarchs deceiving me, or am I incompetent?
The holy prophet fell to thinking.
Whether they attempt to deceive thee, worthiness, answered he, I
know not, for I have not examined their acts. It seems to me, however,
that they explain nothing, because they themselves comprehend nothing.
The nomarchs and their scribes, continued the priest, are like
decurions in an army; each one knows his ten men and reports on them.
Each commands those under him. But the decurion knows not the general
plan made by leaders of the army. The nomarchs and the scribes write
down everything that happens in their province, and lay those reports
at the feet of the pharaoh. But only the supreme council extracts from
them the honey of wisdom.
But that honey is just what I need, said the prince. Why do I not
get it?
Mentezufis shook his head.
Wisdom of the state, said he, belongs to the priesthood;
therefore only the man who is devoted to the gods can obtain it.
Meanwhile, worthiness, though reared by priests, Thou pushest thyself
away from the temples decisively.
How is that? Then, if I do not become a priest, will ye not explain
to me?
There are things, worthiness, which Thou mayest know even now, as
erpatr, there are others which Thou wilt know when Thou art the
pharaoh. There are still others which only a high priest may know.
Every pharaoh is a high priest, interrupted the prince.
Not every pharaoh. Besides, even among high priests there are
grades of difference.
Then, cried the enraged heir, ye hide the order of the state from
me, and I shall not be able to carry out the commands of my father?
What the prince needs may be known, answered Mentezufis, quietly,
for Thou hast the inferior priestly consecration. Those things,
however, are hidden behind the veil in temples, which no one will dare
to draw aside without due preparation.
I will draw it.
May the gods defend Egypt from such a misfortune! replied the
priest, as he raised both his hands. Dost Thou not know, worthiness,
that a thunderbolt would kill any man who without the needed ceremonies
should touch the veil? Were the prince to take to the temple any slave
or condemned criminal and let him stretch out his hand, the man would
die that same instant.
For ye would kill him.
Each one of us would die just like an ordinary criminal were he to
approach the altar sacrilegiously. In presence of the gods, my prince,
a pharaoh or a priest means as little as a slave.
What am I to do, then? asked Ramses.
Seek an answer to thy trouble in the temple, after Thou hast
purified thyself by prayers and fasting, answered the priest. While
Egypt is Egypt, no ruler has gained wisdom of state in another way.
I will meditate over this, said the prince. Though I see from thy
words that the most venerable Mefres, and thou, holy prophet, wish to
involve me in ceremonies as ye have involved my father.
Not at all. Worthiness, if Thou as pharaoh would limit thyself to
commanding the army, Thou mightst take part in ceremonies a few times a
year merely, for on other occasions the high priest would be thy
substitute. But if Thou wish to learn the secrets of temples, Thou must
honor the gods, for they are the fountain of wisdom.
CHAPTER XXIV
RAMSES saw now that either he would not carry out the commands of
the pharaoh or that he must yield to the will of the priesthood; this
filled him with dislike and anger. Hence he did not hurry toward the
secrets hidden in temples. He had time yet for fasting and devotional
exercises; so he took part all the more zealously in feasts which were
given in his honor.
Tutmosis, a master in every amusement, had just returned, and
brought the prince pleasant news from Sarah. She was in good health and
looked well, which concerned Ramses less at that time. But the priests
gave such a horoscope to the coming child that the prince was
delighted.
They assured him that the child would be a son, greatly gifted by
the gods, and if his father loved him he would during life obtain high
honor.
The prince laughed at the second part of this prediction. Their
wisdom is wonderful, said he to Tutmosis. They know that it will be a
son, while I, its father, do not know; and they doubt whether I shall
love it, though it is easy to divine that I shall love the child even
should it be a daughter. And as to honor for it, let them be at rest; I
will occupy myself with that question.
In the month Pachons (January, February) the heir passed through the
province of Ka, where he was received by the nomarch Sofra. The city of
Anu lay about seven hours of a foot journey from Atribis, but the
prince was three days on this journey. At thought of the fasts and
prayers which were awaiting him during initiation into temple secrets,
Ramses felt a growing wish for amusements. His retinue divined this;
hence pleasure followed pleasure.
Again, on the road over which he traveled to Atribis, appeared
throngs of people with shouts, flowers, and music. The enthusiasm
reached its height at the city. It even happened that a certain
gigantic laborer threw himself under the chariot of the viceroy. But
when Ramses held in the horses, a number of young women stepped forth
from the crowd and wreathed the whole chariot with flowers.
Still they love me! thought the prince.
In the province of Ka he did not ask the nomarch about the income of
the pharaoh, he did not visit factories, he did not command to read
reports to him; he knew that he would understand nothing, so he
deferred those occupations till the time of his initiation. But once,
when he saw that the temple of the god Sebak stood on a lofty eminence,
he desired to ascend the pylon and examine the surrounding country.
The worthy Sofra accomplished at once the will of the heir, who,
when he found himself on the summit of the pylon, passed a couple of
hours with great delight there.
The province of Ka was a fertile plain. A number of canals and
branches of the Nile passed through it in every direction, like a
network of silver and lapis lazuli. Melons and wheat sown in November
were ripening. On the fields were crowds of naked people who were
gathering cucumbers or planting cotton. The land was covered with small
buildings which at points were close together and formed villages.
Most of the dwellings, especially those in the fields, were mud huts
covered with straw and palm leaves. In the towns the houses were
walled, had flat roofs, and looked like white cubes with holes in
places where there were doors and windows. Very often on such a cube
was another somewhat smaller, and on that a third still smaller, and
each story was painted a different color. Under the fiery sun of Egypt
those houses looked like great pearls, sapphires, and rubies, scattered
about on the green of the fields, and surrounded by palms and acacias.
From that place Ramses saw a phenomenon which arrested his
attention. Near the temples the houses were more beautiful, and more
people were moving in the fields about them.
The lands of the priests are the most valuable, thought he; and
once again he ran over with his eyes the temples great and small, of
which he saw between ten and twenty from the pylon.
But since he had agreed with Herhor, and needed the services of the
priesthood, he did not care to occupy himself longer with that problem.
In the course of the following days the worthy Sofra arranged a
series of hunts for Ramses, setting out toward the east from Atribis.
Around the canals they shot birds with arrows; some they snared in an
immense net trap which took in a number of tens of them, or they let
out falcons against those which were flying at freedom. When the
prince's retinue entered the eastern desert, great hunts began with
dogs and panthers against wild beasts. Of these they killed and seized,
in the course of some days, a couple of hundred.
When the worthy Sofra noticed that the prince had had enough of
amusement in the open air and of company intents, he ceased hunting and
brought his guest by the shortest road to Atribis.
They arrived about four hours after midday, and the nomarch invited
all to a feast in his palace.
He conducted the prince to a bath, he assisted at the bathing, and
brought out from his own chest perfumes wherewith to anoint Ramses.
Then he oversaw the barber who arranged the viceroy's hair; next he
kneeled down on the pavement and implored the prince to accept new
robes from him.
These were a newly woven tunic covered with embroidery, a skirt
worked with pearls, and a mantle interwoven with gold very thickly, but
so delicate that it could be held between a man's ten fingers.
The heir accepted this graciously, declaring that he had never
received a gift of such beauty.
The sun set, and the nomarch conducted the prince to the hall of
entertainment.
It was a large court surrounded by columns and paved with mosaic.
All the walls were covered with paintings representing scenes in the
lives of the ancestors of Sofra; hence expeditions by sea, hunts, and
battles. Over the space, instead of a roof, was a giant butterfly with
many-colored wings which were moved by hidden slaves to freshen the
atmosphere. In bronze holders fastened to the columns blazed bright
tapers which gave out smoke with fragrance.
The hall was divided into two parts: one was empty, the other filled
with chairs and small tables for guests. Aside in the second part rose
a platform on which, under a costly tent with raised sides, was a table
and a couch for Ramses.
At each small table were great vases with palms, acacias, and fig-trees. The table of the heir was surrounded with plants having needle-like leaves; these filled the space round about with the odor of
balsam.
The assembled guests greeted the prince with a joyful shout, and
when Ramses occupied his place beneath a baldachin whence there was a
view of the court, his retinue sat down at the tables.
Harps sounded, and ladies entered in rich muslin robes with open
bosoms; precious stones were glittering upon their persons. Four of the
most beautiful surrounded Ramses; the others sat near the dignitaries
of his retinue.
In the air was the fragrance of roses, lilies of the valley, and
violets; the prince felt the throbbing of his temples.
Slaves, male and female, in white, rose-colored, and blue tunics,
brought in cakes, roasted birds, and game, fish, wine, fruits, also
garlands of flowers with which the guests crowned themselves. The
immense butterfly moved its wings more and more quickly, and in the
unoccupied part of the court was a spectacle. In turn appeared dancers,
gymnasts, buffoons, performers of tricks, swordsmen; when any one gave
an unusual proof of dexterity, the spectators threw to him gold rings
or flowers from their garlands.
The feast lasted some hours, interspersedwith shouts of guests
wishing happiness to the prince, and to the nomarch and his family.
Ramses, who was in a reclining position on a couch covered with a
lion's skin which had golden claws, was served by four ladies. One
fanned him; another changed the garland on his head; the other two
offered food to him. Toward the end of the feast the one with whom the
prince talked with most willingness brought a goblet of wine. Ramses
drank half, and gave the remainder to the woman; when she had drunk
that half, he kissed her lips.
Slaves quenched the torches then quickly, the butterfly ceased to
move its wings, there was night in the court, and silence interrupted
by the nervous laughter of women.
All on a sudden the quick tramping of people was heard and a
terrible shouting.
Let me in! cried a hoarse voice. Where is the heir? Where is the
viceroy?
There was a dreadful disturbance in the hall. Women were terrified;
men called out,
What is it? An attack on the heir! Hei, guards!
The sound of broken dishes was heard, and the rattle of chairs.
Where is the heir? bellowed the stranger.
Guards! Defend the life of the heir! shouted men in the courtyard.
Light the torches! called the youthful voice of the heir. Who is
looking for me? Here I am!
Torches were brought. In the hall were piles of overturned and
broken furniture behind which guests were in hiding. On the platform
the prince tore away from the women, who screamed while they held to
his legs and arms firmly. Near the prince was Tutmosis, his wig torn, a
bronze pitcher in his hand with which he was ready to open the head of
any one who dared to go nearer the viceroy. At the door of the hall
appeared warriors with swords drawn for action.
What is this? Who is here? cried the terrified nomarch.
At last they beheld the author of the disturbance, a gigantic man,
naked, and mud-covered. He had bloody stripes on his shoulders; he was
kneeling on the steps of the platform and stretching his hands toward
Ramses.
This is the murderer, shouted the nomarch. Seize him!
Tutmosis raised his pitcher; soldiers rushed up from the door. The
wounded man fell with his face to the steps, crying,
Have mercy, sun of Egypt!
The soldiers were ready to seize him when Ramses pulled himself free
of the women and approached the unfortunate giant.
Touch him not! cried Ramses to the warriors. What dost Thou wish,
man?
I wish, lord, to tell thee of the wrongs which we suffer.
At that moment the nomarch stepped up to the viceroy and whispered,
This is a Hyksos. Look, worthiness, at his shaggy hair and his
beard. But the insolence with which he burst in proves that the
criminal is not a genuine Egyptian.
Who art thou? asked Ramses.
I am Bakura, a laborer in the regiment of diggers in Sochem. We
have no work now, so the nomarch Otoes commanded us.
He is a drunkard and a madman! whispered the excited Sofra. How
dares he speak to thee, lord.
The prince gave such a look to the nomarch that he bent double and
moved backward.
What did the worthy Otoes command you the workers? asked the
viceroy of Bakura.
He commanded us, lord, to go along the bank of the Nile, swim in
the river, stand at the roads, make an uproar in thy honor, and he
promised to give us what was proper for doing so. For two months before
that, we, O lord, received nothing, neither barley cakes, nor fish, nor
olive oil for our bodies.
What is thy answer to this, worthy lord? asked the prince of the
nomarch.
He is a dangerous drunkard, a foul liar, answered Sofra.
What noise didst Thou make in my honor?
That which was commanded, said the giant. My wife and daughter
cried with the others, 'May he live through eternity!' I sprang into
the water and threw a garland at thy barge, worthiness; for this they
promised an uten. When Thou wert pleased graciously to enter the city
of Atribis, I approached to throw myself under the horses and stop thy
chariot.
The prince laughed.
As I live, said he, I did not think that we should end the feast
with such joyousness. But how much did they pay thee for falling under
the chariot?
They promised three utens, but have paid nothing to me or my wife
or my daughter. Nothing has been given to the whole regiment of diggers
to eat for two months past.
On what do ye live then?
On begging, or on that which we earn from some earthworker. In this
sore distress we revolted three times, and desired to go home. But the
officers and scribes either promised to give something or commanded to
beat us.
For the noise made in my honor? put in the prince, laughing.
Thy worthiness speaks truth. Yesterday the revolt was greatest, for
which the worthy nomarch Sofra gave command to take the tenth man.
Every tenth man was clubbed, and I got the most, for I am big and have
three mouths to feed, my own, my wife's, and my daughter's. When I was
clubbed I broke away from them to fall down, O lord, in thy presence,
and tell thee our sorrows. Beat us if we are guilty, but let the
scribes give us that which is due, for we are dying of hunger, we, our
wives, and our children.
This man is possessed! exclaimed Sofra. Be pleased, lord, to see
the damage he has wrought here. I would not take ten talents for those
dishes, pitchers, and tables.
Among the guests, who now were recovering their senses, a muttering
began.
This is a bandit! said they. Look at him, really a Hyksos.
Boiling up in him is the cursed blood of his ancestors, the men who
invaded and ruined Egypt. Such costly furniture, such splendid vessels,
broken into fragments!
The loss caused the state by one rebellion of unpaid laborers is
greater than the value of these vessels, said Ramses.
Sacred words! They should be written on monuments, said some among
the guests. Rebellion takes people from their labor and grieves the
heart of his holiness. It is not proper that laborers should be unpaid
for two months in succession.
The prince looked with contempt on those courtiers, changeable as
clouds; he turned then to the nomarch.
I give thee, said he, threateningly, this punished man. I am
certain that a hair of his head will not fall from him. Tomorrow
morning I wish to see the regiment to which he belongs and learn
whether he speaks truth or falsehood.
After these words Ramses went out, leaving the nomarch and the
guests in vexation.
Next morning the prince, while dressing with the aid of Tutmosis,
asked him,
Have the laborers come?
They have, lord; they have been waiting for thy commands since
daybreak.
And is that man Bakura among them?
Tutmosis made a wry face and answered,
A marvelous thing has happened. The worthy Sofra gave command to
shut the fellow up in an empty cellar of the palace. Well, the
disorderly rascal, a very strong man, broke the door to another place
where there is wine; he overturned a number of pots of very costly
wine, and got so drunk that.
That what? asked the prince.
That he perished.
The prince sprang up from his chair.
And dost them believe that he drank himself to death?
I must believe, for I have no proof that they killed him.
But if I look for proof? burst out the prince.
He ran through the room, and snorted like an angry lion. When he was
somewhat quieted, Tutmosis added,
Seek not for proof where it is not to be discovered, for Thou wilt
not find even witnesses. If any man strangled that laborer at command
of the nomarch, he will not confess; the laborer himself is dead, and
will not say anything; besides, what would his complaint against the
nomarch amount to? In these conditions no court would begin to
investigate.
But if I command? asked the viceroy.
In that case they will investigate and prove the innocence of
Sofra. Then Thou wilt be put to shame, and all the nomarchs with their
relatives and servants will become thy enemies.
The prince stood in the middle of the chamber and pondered.
Finally, said Tutmosis, everything seems to show this, that the
unfortunate Bakura was a drunkard or a maniac, and, above all, a man of
foreign blood. If a genuine Egyptian in his senses were to go without
pay for a year, and be clubbed twice as much as this man, would he dare
to break into the palace of the nomarch and appeal to thee with such an
outcry?
Ramses bent his head, and seeing that there were nobles in the next
chamber, he said in a voice somewhat lowered,
Knowest thou, Tutmosis, since I set out on this journey Egypt
begins to appear somehow strange to me? At times I ask my own self if I
am not in some foreign region. Then again my heart is disturbed, as if
I had a curtain before me, behind which all kinds of villainy are
practiced, but which I myself cannot see with my own eyes.
Then do not look at them; for if Thou do, it will seem at last to
thee that we should all be sent to the quarries, said Tutmosis,
smiling. Remember that the nomarchs and officials are the shepherds of
thy flock. If one of them takes a measure of milk for himself, or kills
a little sheep, of course Thou wilt not kill him or drive the man away.
Thou hast many sheep, and it is not easy to find shepherds.
The viceroy, now dressed, passed into the hall of waiting, where his
suite stood assembled, priests, officers, and officials. Then he left
the palace with them, and went to the outer courtyard.
That was a broad space, planted with acacias, under the shade of
which the laborers were waiting for the viceroy. At the sound of a
trumpet the whole crowd sprang up, and stood in five ranks before him.
Ramses, attended by a glittering retinue of dignitaries, halted
suddenly, wishing, first of all, to look at the regiment from a
distance. The men were naked, each with a white cap on his head, and
girt about the hips with stuff like that of which the cap was made. In
the ranks Ramses could distinguish easily the brown Egyptian, the
negro, the yellow Asiatic, the white inhabitants of Libya, and also the
Mediterranean islands.
In the first rank stood workers with pickaxes, in the second those
with mattocks, in the third those with shovels. The fourth rank was
composed of carriers, of whom each had a pole and two buckets; the
fifth was also of carriers, but with large boxes borne by two men.
These last carried earth freshly dug.
In front of the ranks, some yards distant, stood the overseers; each
held a long stick in his hand, and either a large wooden circle or a
square measure.
When the prince approached them, they cried in a chorus,
Live Thou through eternity! and kneeling, they struck the earth
with their foreheads. The heir commanded them to rise, and surveyed
them again with attention.
They were healthy, strong persons, not looking in the least like men
who had lived two months on begging.
Sofra with his retinue approached the prince. But Ramses, feigning
not to see him, turned to one of the overseers,
Are ye earth-tillers from Sochem? inquired he.
The overseer fell at full length with his face to the earth.
The prince shrugged his shoulders, and called out to the laborers,
Are ye from Sochem?
We are earth workers from Sochem, answered they, in chorus.
Have ye received pay?
We have received pay; we are sated and happy servants of his
holiness, answered the chorus, giving out each word with emphasis.
Turn around! commanded the prince.
They turned. It is true that each had frequent and deep scars from
the club, but no fresh stripes on their bodies.
They are deceiving me, thought the heir.
He commanded the laborers to go to their barracks, and, without
greeting the nomarch or taking leave of him, he returned to the palace.
Wilt thou, too, tell me, said he to Tutmosis on the road, that
those men are laborers from Sochem?
But they say that they are, they themselves give answer, replied
the courtier.
Ramses gave command to bring his horse, and he rode to the army
encamped beyond the city. He reviewed the regiments all day. About
noon, on the field of exercise, appeared, at command of the nomarch,
some tens of carriers with food and wine, tents and furniture. But the
prince sent them back to Atribis; and when the hour came for army food,
he commanded to serve that to him; so he ate dried meat with oat cakes.
These were the mercenary regiments of Libya. When the prince ordered
them to lay aside arms in the evening, and took farewell of the men, it
seemed as though the soldiers and officers had yielded to madness.
Shouting May he live through eternity! they kissed his hands and
feet, made a litter of their spears and mantles, and bore him to the
city, disputing on the way with one another for the honor of carrying
the heir on their shoulders.
The nomarch and the officials of the province were frightened, when
they saw the enthusiasm of the Libyans, and the favor which the heir
showed barbarians.
Here is a ruler! whispered the chief secretary to Sofra. If he
wished, those people would kill us and our children.
The troubled nomarch sighed to the gods, and commended himself to
their gracious protection.
Late at night Ramses found himself in his own palace, and there the
servants told him that another bedchamber had been given him.
Why is this?
Because in the first chamber people saw a poisonous serpent, which
hid, and no one could find it.
In a wing near the house of the nomarch was a new sleeping chamber,
a four-cornered room, surrounded by columns on all sides. Its walls
were of alabaster, covered with painted bas-reliefs; below were plants
in vases; higher up garlands of olive and laurel.
Almost in the centre of the room stood a great bed inlaid with
ebony, gold, and ivory. The chamber was lighted by two fragrant tapers;
under the colonnade were small tables with wine, food, and garlands of
roses. In the ceiling was a large quadrangular opening covered with
linen.
The prince bathed and lay on the soft bed; his servants went to
remote chambers. The tapers were burning out; cool air filled with the
odor of flowers moved in the chamber. At the same time low music from
harps was heard above him.
Ramses raised his head. The linen canopy of the chamber slipped to
one side, and through the opening he saw the constellation Leo, and in
it the brilliant star Regulus. The music of harps became louder.
Are the gods preparing to make me a visit? thought the viceroy,
with a smile.
In the opening of the ceiling shone a broad streak of light; it was
powerful but tempered. A moment later a litter appeared in the form of
a golden boat, bearing a small arbor with flowers in it; the pillars of
the arbor were entwined with garlands of roses, the top of it covered
with lotuses and violets.
On ropes, entwined with green, the golden boat descended to the
chamber in silence. It stopped on the pavement, and from beneath the
flowers came forth a naked maiden of unparalleled beauty. Her body had
the smoothness of marble; from her amber-like waves of hair came an
intoxicating odor.
The maiden stepped from the litter and knelt before Ramses.
Art Thou the daughter of Sofra? asked he.
Thou speakest truth, Lord Ramses.
And still Thou hast come to me!
To implore thee to pardon my father. He is unhappy; since midday he
has been shedding tears and covering his head with ashes.
And if I would not forgive him, wouldst Thou leave me?
No, whispered she.
Ramses drew her toward him and kissed her with passion. His eyes
flashed.
For this I forgive him.
Oh, how good Thou art! cried she, nestling up to Ramses; then she
added with sweetness,
Wilt Thou command a reward for the damages done by that mad
laborer?
I will command.
And wilt Thou take me to thy household?
Ramses looked at her.
I will take thee, for Thou art a beauty.
Really? asked she, putting her arm around his neck. Look at me
better. Among the beauties of Egypt I hold only the fourth place.
What does that mean?
In Memphis, or near there, dwells thy first; happily she is only a
Jewess! In Sochem is the second.
I know nothing of that one, interrupted Ramses.
Oh, Thou dove! Then surely Thou knowest nothing of the third one in
Ami.
Does she too belong to my household?
Ungrateful! cried the girl, striking him with a lotus flower.
Thou wouldst be ready to say the same of me a month hence. But I will
not let myself be injured.
Like thy father.
Hast Thou not forgotten him yet? Remember that I will go-
Stay, stay!
Next day the viceroy was pleased to receive homage and a feast from
Sofra. He praised in public the nomarch's government of the province,
and to reward him for the damages caused by the drunken laborer, Ramses
presented him with one-half of the furniture and vessels presented in
Anu.
The second half of those gifts was taken by the beautiful Abeb,
daughter of the nomarch, as lady of the court. Besides, she commanded
that five talents be given her from the treasury of the viceroy, for
clothes, slaves, and horses.
In the evening the prince, while yawning, spoke thus to Tutmosis,
His holiness my father gave me a great lesson when he said that
women are very costly.
The position is worse when there are no women, replied the
exquisite.
But I have four, and I do not even know clearly how. I might give
thee two of them.
And Sarah?
Not her, especially if she has a son.
If Thou wilt assign a good dowry, husbands will be found for those
charmers most easily.
The prince yawned a second time.
I do not like to hear of dowries, said he. Aaa! What luck, that I
shall tear away from thee and settle among the priests!
Wilt Thou indeed?
I must. At last I shall learn of them why the pharaohs are growing
poorer. Well, I shall sleep.
CHAPTER XXV
THAT same day, in Memphis, Dagon the Phoenician, the viceroy's
worthy banker, lay on a couch under the veranda of his mansion. Around
him were fragrant potted bushes with needle-like leaves. Two black
slaves cooled the rich man with fans, and he, while playing with a
young ape, was listening to accounts read by his scribe to him.
At that moment a slave with a sword, helmet, dart, and shield (the
banker loved military dress), announced the worthy Rabsun, a Phoenician
merchant then settled in Memphis.
The guest entered, bowed profoundly, and dropped his eyelids in such
fashion that Dagon commanded the scribe and the slaves to withdraw from
the veranda. Then, as a man of foresight, he surveyed every corner, and
said to the visitor,
We may talk.
Rabsun began without prelude,
Dost thou know, worthiness, that Prince Hiram has come from Tyre?
Dagon sprang up from the couch.
May the leprosy seize him and his princeship! shouted the banker.
He has just reminded me, continued the guest, calmly, that there
is a misunderstanding between him and thee.
What misunderstanding? cried Dagon. That thief has robbed,
destroyed, ruined me. When I sent my ships after other Tyrian vessels
to the west for silver, the helmsmen of that thief Hiram cast fire on
them, tried to push them into a shallow. Well, my ships came back
empty, burnt, and shattered. May the fire of heaven burn him!
concluded the raging banker.
But if Hiram has for thee a profitable business? inquired the
guest, stolidly.
The storm raging in Dagon's breast ceased on a sudden.
What business can he offer me? asked the banker, with a voice now
calmed completely.
He will tell this himself, but first he must see thee.
Well, let him come to me.
He thinks that Thou shouldst go to him. He, as is known to thee, is
a member of the chief council of Tyre.
He will perish before I go to him, cried the banker, enraged a
second time.
The guest drew an armchair to the couch, and slapped Dagon's thigh.
Dagon, said he, have sense.
Why have I not sense, and why dost thou, Rabsun, not say to me
worthiness?
Dagon, be not foolish! answered the guest. If Thou wilt not go to
him and he will not come to thee, how will ye do business?
Thou art foolish, Rabsun! burst out Dagon again. Before I go to
Hiram let my hand wither; with that politeness I should lose half the
profit.
The guest thought awhile.
Now Thou hast uttered a wise word, said he; so I will tell thee
something. Come to me and Hiram will come also; ye can talk of that
business in my house.
Dagon bent his head, and half closing his eyes, inquired roguishly,
Ei, Rabsun! Tell outright how much did he give thee?
For what?
For this, that I should come to thy house and transact business
with him, the mangy scoundrel.
This business interests all Phoenicia, so I need no profit on it,
replied the indignant Rabsun.
That is as true as that all thy debtors will pay thee.
May they fail to pay me if I make anything in this! Only let not
Phoenicia lose! cried Rabsun, in anger.
They took farewell of each other.
Toward evening the worthy Dagon seated himself in a litter carried
by six slaves. He was preceded by two outrunners with staffs, and two
with torches; behind the litter went four men armed from head to foot.
Not for security, but because for a certain time Dagon loved to
surround himself with armed men, like a noble.
He came out of the litter with great importance, supported by two
men; a third carried a parasol over him. He entered Rabsun's house.
Where is that Hiram? inquired he, haughtily.
He is not here?
How is this? Must I wait for him, then?
He is not in this room, but he is in the third one talking with my
wife, answered the host. He is making a visit to my wife.
I will not go there! said the banker, sitting down on a couch.
Thou wilt go to the next chamber, and he will enter it at the same
time with thee.
After a short resistance Dagon yielded, and a moment later, at a
sign from the master of the house, he entered the second chamber. At
the same time from distant apartments appeared a man, not of tall
stature, with gray beard, dressed in a gold-embroidered toga, and with
a gold band on his head.
This is, said the host, standing in the middle of the room, his
grace Prince Hiram, a member of the supreme council of Tyre. This is
the worthy Dagon, banker of the heir to the throne, and viceroy of
Lower Egypt.
The two dignitaries bowed, each with his hand on his breast, and
both sat down on stools in the middle of the chamber. Hiram pushed
aside his toga somewhat in order to show the great gold medal on his
breast; in answer to this Dagon began to toy with a large gold chain
which he had received from Prince Ramses.
I, Hiram, said the old man, congratulate thee, Lord Dagon. I wish
thee much property, and success in thy business.
I, Dagon, congratulate thee, Lord Hiram, and I wish thee the same
as Thou wishest me.
Dost Thou desire to dispute? interrupted Hiram, irritated.
How dispute? Rabsun, say if I am disputing.
Better talk of business, your worthinesses, replied the host.
After a moment of thought Hiram proceeded,
Thy friends in Tyre congratulate thee greatly through me.
Is that all they have sent me? asked Dagon, in reviling accents.
What didst Thou wish? inquired Hiram, raising his voice.
Quiet! Concord! put in the host.
Hiram sighed a number of times deeply, and said,
It is true that we need concord. Evil times are approaching
Phoenicia.
Has the sea flooded Tyre and Sidon? asked Dagon, smiling.
Hiram spat, and inquired,
Why art Thou so ill-tempered today?
I am always ill-tempered when men do not call me worthiness.
But why dost Thou not say grace to me? I am a prince.
Perhaps in Phoenicia. But in Assyria Thou wouldst wait three days
in the forecourt of any satrap for an audience, and when he deigned to
receive thee Thou wouldst be lying on thy belly, like any Phoenician
merchant.
But what couldst Thou do in presence of a wild man who would
perhaps impale thee on a stake? inquired Hiram.
What I would do, I know not. But in Egypt I sit on one sofa with
the heir to the throne, who today is viceroy.
Concord, worthiness! Concord, grace! said the host.
Concord! concord, because this man is a common Phoenician merchant,
and is unwilling to render me respect, cried out Dagon.
I have a hundred ships! shouted Hiram.
And his holiness has twenty thousand cities, towns, and villages.
Your worthinesses are destroying this business and all Phoenicia,
said Rabsun, with a voice which was loud now.
Hiram balled his fists, but was silent.
Thou must confess, worthiness, said he, after a while, that of
those twenty thousand towns his holiness owns few in reality.
Thou wishest to say, grace, answered Dagon, that seven thousand
belong to the temples, and seven thousand to great lords. Still six
thousand belong clearly to his holiness.
Not altogether! For when Thou takest, worthiness, about three
thousand which are mortgaged to the priests, and two thousand which are
rented to our Phoenicians.
Thou speakest the truth, grace, said Dagon. But there remain
always to his holiness about two thousand very rich cities.
Has Typhon possessed thee? roared Rabsun, in his turn. Wilt Thou
go now to counting the cities of the pharaoh, may he.
Pst! whispered Dagon, springing up.
When misfortune is hanging over Phoenicia finished Rabsun.
Let me but know what the misfortune is, interrupted Dagon.
Then let Hiram speak and Thou wilt know.
Let him speak.
Dost Thou know, worthiness, what happened in the inn 'Under the
Ship' to our brother Asarhadon? began Hiram.
I have no brothers among innkeepers, interrupted Dagon,
sneeringly.
Be silent! screamed Rabsun, in anger; and he grasped the hilt of
his dagger. Thou art as dull as a dog barking in sleep.
Why is he angry, that that dealer in bones? inquired Dagon; and he
reached for his knife also.
Quiet! Concord! said the gray-headed prince; and he dropped his
lean hand to his girdle.
For a while the nostrils of all three men were quivering and their
eyes flashing. At last Hiram, who calmed himself first, began again, as
if nothing had happened.
A couple of months ago, in Asarhadon's inn, lodged a certain Phut
from the city of Harran.
He had to receive five talents from some priest, interrupted
Dagon.
What further? asked Hiram.
Nothing. He found favor with a certain priestess, and at her advice
went to seek his debtor in Thebes.
Thou hast the mind of a child and the talkativeness of a woman,
said Hiram. This Harran man is not from Harran at all. He is a
Chaldean, and his name is not Phut, but Beroes.
Beroes? Beroes? repeated Dagon, trying to remember. I have heard
that name in some place.
Thou hast heard it! repeated Hiram, with contempt. Beroes is the
wisest priest in Babylon, the counselor of Assyrian princes and of the
king himself.
Let him be counselor; if he is not the pharaoh, what do I care?
said the banker.
Rabsun rose from his chair, and threatening Dagon with his fist
under the nose, cried,
Thou wild boar, fatted on the pharaoh's swill, Phoenicia concerns
thee as much as Egypt concerns me. Thou wouldst sell thy country for a
drachma hadst Thou the chance, leprous cur that Thou art!
Dagon grew pale and answered with a calm voice,
What is that huckster saying? In Tyre my sons are learning
navigation; in Sidon lives my daughter with her husband. I have lent
half my property to the supreme council, though I do not receive even
ten per cent for it. And this huckster says that Phoenicia does not
concern me!
Rabsun, listen to me, added he, after a while. I wish thy wife
and children and the shades of thy fathers to be as much thought of by
thee as each Phoenician ship is by me, or each stone of Tyre and Sidon,
or even of Zarpath and Achsibu.
Dagon, tell truth, put in Hiram.
I not care for Phoenicia! continued the banker, growing excited.
How many Phoenicians have I brought here to make property, and what do
I gain from having done so! I not care? Hiram ruined two ships of mine
and deprived me of great profit; still, when Phoenicia is in question,
I sit in one room with him.
For Thou didst think to talk with him of cheating some one, said
Rabsun.
As much as Thou didst think of dying, fool! retorted Dagon. Am I
a child? do I not understand that when Hiram comes to Memphis he need
not come for traffic? O Thou Rabsun! Thou shouldst clean my stables a
couple of years.
Enough of this! cried Hiram, striking the table with his fist.
We never shall finish with this Chaldean priest, muttered Rabsun,
with as much calmness as if he had not been insulted a moment before.
Hiram coughed, and said,
That man has a house and land really in Harran, and he is called
Phut there. He got letters from Hittite merchants to merchants in
Sidon, so our caravans took him for the journey. He speaks Phoenician
well, he pays liberally. He made no demands in particular; so our
people came to like him, even much.
But, continued Hiram, stroking his beard, when a lion covers
himself with an ox skin, even a little of his tail will stick out. This
Phut was wonderfully wise and self-confident; so the chief of the
caravan examined his effects in secret, and found nothing save a medal
of the goddess Astaroth. This medal pricked the heart of the leader of
the caravan: 'How could a Hittite have a Phoenician medal?'
So when they came to Sidon he reported straightway to the elders,
and thenceforth our secret police kept this Phut in view.
Meanwhile he is such a sage that when he had remained some days all
came to like him. He prayed and offered sacrifices to the goddess
Astaroth, paid in gold, borrowed no money, associated only with
Phoenicians. And he so befogged all that watchfulness touching him was
weakened, and he went in peace to Memphis.
In this place again our elders began to watch him, but discovered
nothing; they divined simply that he must be a great lord, not a simple
man of Harran. But Asarhadon discovered by chance, and did not even
discover, he only came on traces, that this pretended Phut passed a
whole night in the ancient temple of Set, which here is greatly
venerated.
Only high priests enter it for important counsels, interrupted
Dagon.
And that alone would mean nothing, said Hiram. But one of our
merchants returned a month ago from Babylon with wonderful tidings. In
return for a great present a certain attendant of the Satrap of Babylon
informed him that misfortune was threatening Phoenicia.
Assyria will take you, said the attendant, and Egypt will take
Israel. On that business the Chaldean high priest Beroes has gone to
the priests of Thebes, and with them he will make a treaty.
Ye must know, continued Hiram, that Chaldean priests consider the
priests in Egypt as their brothers, and that Beroes enjoys great esteem
in the Court of King Assar, so reports concerning that treaty may be
very truthful.
Why does Assyria want Phoenicia? inquired Dagon, as he bit his
finger-nails.
Why does a thief want another man's granary? replied Hiram.
What good is a treaty made by Beroes with Egyptian priests? put in
Rabsun, thinking deeply.
Thou art dull! answered Dagon. Pharaoh does nothing except what
the priests ordain.
There will be a treaty with the pharaoh, never fear! interrupted
Hiram. We know to a certainty in Tyre that the Assyrian ambassador
Sargon is coming to Egypt with gifts and with a great retinue. He
pretends that it is to see Egypt and agree with 'ministers, not to
inscribe in Egyptian acts that Assyria pays tribute to the pharaohs.
But in fact he is coming to conclude a treaty about dividing the
countries which lie between our sea and the Euphrates River.
May the earth swallow them! imprecated Rabsun.
What dost Thou think of this Dagon? inquired Hiram.
But what would ye do if Assar attacked you really?
Hiram shook his head with anger.
What? We should go on board of ships with our families and
treasures and leave to those dogs the ruins of cities and the rotting
corpses of slaves. Do we not know greater and more beautiful countries
than Phoenicia, where we can begin a new and richer fatherland?
May the gods guard us from such a thing, said Dagon.
This is just the question, to save the present Phoenicia from
destruction, said Hiram. And thou, Dagon, art able to do much in this
matter.
What can I do?
Thou mayst learn from the priests whether Beroes met them, and
whether he and they made an agreement.
A terribly difficult thing, whispered Dagon. But I may find a
priest who will tell me.
Thou canst prevent at the court of the pharaoh a treaty with
Sargon, continued Hiram.
It is very difficult. I could not do that unassisted.
I will be with thee, and Phoenicia will find the gold. A tax is in
course of collection at present.
I have given two talents! whispered Rabsun.
I will give ten, added Dagon. But what shall I get for my labor?
What? Well, ten ships, answered Hiram.
And how much wilt Thou gain? inquired Dagon.
Is ten not enough? Thou wilt get fifteen.
I ask, what wilt Thou get? insisted Dagon.
We will give twenty ships. Does that suffice thee?
Let it be so. But will ye show my ships the road to the country of
silver?
We will show it.
And the place where ye get tin? Well.
And the place where amber is found? continued Dagon.
May Thou perish at once! answered the gracious Prince Hiram,
extending his hand. But Thou wilt not keep up a malignant heart toward
me because of those two little flat boats?
Dagon sighed.
I will work to forget. But what a property I should have now if
Thou hadst not driven them off at that time!
Enough! interrupted Rabsun; talk of Phoenicia.
Through whom wilt Thou learn of Beroes and the treaty? asked Hiram
of Dagon.
Let that drop. It is dangerous to speak of it, for priests will be
involved in the matter.
And through whom couldst Thou ruin the treaty?
I think I think that perhaps through the heir to the throne. I have
many notes of his.
Hiram raised his hand, and replied,
The heir very well, for he will be pharaoh, perhaps even soon.
Pst! interrupted Dagon, striking the table with his fist. May
Thou lose speech for such language!
Here is a wild boar for thee! cried Rabsun, threatening the
banker's nose.
And Thou art a dull huckster, answered Dagon, with a reviling
laugh. Thou, Rabsun, shouldst sell dried fish and water on the
streets, but not mix up in questions between states. An ox hoof rubbed
in Egyptian mud has more sense than thou, though Thou 'art living five
years in the capital of light! Oh that pigs might devour thee!
Quiet! quiet! called Hiram. Ye do not let me finish.
Speak, for Thou art wise and my heart understands thee, said
Rabsun.
If thou, Dagon, hast influence over the heir, that is well,
continued Hiram. For if the heir wishes to have a treaty with Assyria
there will be a treaty, and besides one written with our blood on our
own skins. But if the heir wishes war with Assyria, he will make war,
though the priests were to summon all the gods against him.
H
Pst! interrupted Dagon. If the priests wish greatly, there will
be a treaty. But perhaps they will not wish.
Therefore, Dagon, we must have all the military leaders with us,
said Hiram.
We can.
And the nomarchs.
We can have them too.
And the heir, continued Hiram.
But if Thou alone urge him to war with Assyria, that is nothing. A
man, like a harp, has many strings, and to play on them fingers are
needed, while thou, Dagon, art only one finger.
But I cannot tear myself into ten parts.
Thou mayst be like one hand which has five fingers. Thou must so
act that no one may suspect that Thou art for war, but every cook in
the heir's kitchen must want war, every barber of his must want war,
all the bath men, and litter-bearers, scribes, officers, charioteers
must want war with Assyria; the heir should hear war from morning till
night, and even when he is sleeping.
That will be done.
But dost Thou know his mistresses? asked Hiram.
Dagon waved his hand.
Stupid girls! said he. They think only about dressing, painting,
and perfuming themselves; but whence these perfumes come, and who
brings them to Egypt, they know not.
We must give him a favorite who will know.
Where shall we find her? asked Dagon. Ah, I have it! cried he,
stroking his forehead. Dost Thou know Kama, the priestess of
Astaroth?
What? interrupted Rabsun, astounded. The priestess of the holy
goddess Astaroth to be a favorite of an Egyptian?
Thou wouldst prefer that she were thine, sneered Dagon. She can
even cease to be high priestess when it is necessary to bring her near
the court.
Thou speakest truth, said Hiram.
But that is sacrilege! said Rabsun, indignantly.
And the priestess who commits it is to die, said the gray-haired
Hiram.
If only that Jewess, Sarah, does not hinder, added Dagon, after a
moment of silence. She is waiting for a child to which the prince is
attached already. If a son is born, all our plans may be thwarted.
We shall have money for Sarah too, added Hiram.
She will take nothing! burst out Dagon. That pitiful creature has
refused gold and a precious goblet, which I carried to her.
She did, for she thought that Thou hadst the wish to deceive her,
remarked Rabsun.
Hiram nodded.
There is no cause for trouble, said he. Where gold has not power,
then the father, the mother, or the mistress may have it. And if the
mistress is powerless, there is still.
The knife, hissed Rabsun.
Poison, whispered Dagon.
A knife is a very rude weapon, concluded Hiram.
He stroked his beard, thought awhile; at last he rose, took from his
bosom a purple ribbon on which were fastened three golden amulets with
a portrait of the goddess Astaroth. He drew from his girdle a knife,
cut the ribbon into three parts, and gave two of these with the amulets
to Dagon and Rabsun.
Then all three went to the middle of the room to the corner where
stood a winged statue of the goddess; they put their hands on the
statue, and Hiram repeated in a low voice, but clearly,
To thee, Mother of Life, we swear faithfully to observe our
agreements, and not to rest till the sacred places be secure from
enemies, may they be destroyed by hunger, fire, and pestilence.
And should one of us fail in his obligations, or betray a secret,
may all calamities and disgrace fall on him! May hunger twist his
entrails, and sleep flee from his bloodshot eyes! May the hand of the
man wither who hastens to him with rescue and pities him in his misery!
May the bread on his table turn into rottenness, and the wine into
stinking juice! May his children die out, and his house be filled with
bastards who will spit on him and expel him! May he die groaning
through many days in loneliness, and may neither earth nor water
receive his vile carcass, may no fire burn it, no wild beasts devour
it!
Thus let it be!
After this terrible oath, which Hiram began, and the second half of
which all shouted forth in voices trembling from rage, the three
panting Phoenicians rested. After that Rabsun conducted them to a feast
where with wine, music, and dancers they forgot for a time the work
awaiting them.
CHAPTER XXVI
Not far from the city of Pi-Bast stood the temple of the goddess
Hator.
In the month Paoni (March-April), on the day of the vernal equinox,
about nine in the evening, when the star Sirius inclined toward its
setting, two wayfaring priests and one penitent stopped in the gateway.
The penitent, who was barefoot, had ashes on his head, and was covered
with a coarse cloth which concealed his visage.
Though the air was clear, it was impossible to distinguish the faces
of those wayfarers. They stood in the shadow of two immense statues of
the cow-headed divinity which guarded the entrance to the temple and
with kindly eyes protected the province of Habu from pestilence,
southern winds, and bad overflows.
When he had rested somewhat, the penitent fell with his face to the
earth and prayed long in that position. Then he rose, took a copper
knocker, and struck a blow. A deep metallic sound went through all the
courts, reverberated from the thick walls of the temple, and flew over
the wheat-fields, above the mud cottages of earth-tillers, over the
silvery waters of the Nile, where the faint cry of wakened birds
answered it.
After a long time a murmur was heard inside, and the question,
Who rouses us?
Ramses, a slave of the divinity, said the penitent.
For what hast Thou come?
For the light of wisdom.
What right hast Thou to ask for it?
I received the inferior consecration, and in great processions
within the temple I carry a torch.
The gates opened widely. In the centre stood a priest in a white
robe; he stretched forth his hand, and said slowly and distinctly,
Enter. When Thou crossest this threshold, may divine peace dwell in
thy soul, and may that be accomplished for which Thou implorest
humbly.
When the penitent had fallen at his feet, the priest, making some
signs above his head, whispered,
In the name of Him who is, who has been, and who will be, who
created everything, whose breath fills the visible and the invisible
world, and who is life eternal.
When the gate had closed, the priest took Ramses by the hand, and in
the gloom amid the immense columns of the forecourt he led him to the
dwelling assigned to him. It was a small cell lighted by a lamp. On the
stone pavement lay a bundle of dry grass; in a corner stood a pitcher
of water, and near it was a barley cake.
I see that here I shall have rest indeed after my occupations with
the nomarchs, said Ramses, joyously.
Think of eternity, replied the priest; and he withdrew.
This answer struck Ramses disagreeably. Though he was hungry, he did
not wish to eat a cake or drink water. He sat on the grass, and looking
at his feet wounded from the journey, asked himself why he had come,
why he had put himself voluntarily out of his office.
Seeing the walls of the cell and its poverty, he recalled the years
of his boyhood passed at a priests' school. How many blows of sticks he
had received there, how many nights he had passed on a stone floor as
punishment! Even then Ramses felt the hatred and fear which he had felt
before toward that harsh priest who to all his prayers and questions
answered only with, Think of eternity.
After some months of uproar to drop into such silence, to exchange
the court of a prince for obscurity and loneliness, and instead of
feasts, women, and music, to feel around and above him the weight of
walls! I have gone mad! I have gone mad! muttered Ramses.
There was a moment when he wished to leave the temple at once; but
afterward he thought that they might not open the gate to him. The
sight of his dirty legs, of the ashes falling out of his hair, the
roughness of his penitential rags, all this disgusted him. If he had
had his sword even! But would he, dressed as he was in that place, dare
to use it?
He felt an overpowering dread, and that sobered him. He remembered
that the gods in temples send down fear on men, and that this fear must
be the beginning of wisdom.
Moreover, I am the viceroy and the heir of the pharaoh, thought
he; who will harm me in this temple?
He rose and went out of the cell. He found himself in a broad court
surrounded by columns. The stars were shining brightly; hence he saw at
one end of the court an immense pylon, at the other an open entrance to
the temple.
He went thither. At the door there was gloom, and somewhere far off
flamed a number of lamps, as if in the air and unsupported. Looking
more attentively, he saw standing closely together between the entrance
and the lamps a forest of columns, the tops of which were lost in
darkness. At a distance, perhaps two hundred yards from him, he saw
indistinctly the gigantic legs of a sitting goddess with her hands
resting on her knees, from which the lamplight was reflected dimly.
All at once he heard a sound from afar. From a side passage a row of
white figures pushed forth, moving in couples. This was a night
procession of priests, who, singing in two choruses, gave homage to the
statue of the goddess: Chorus I. I am He who created heaven and earth
and made all things contained in them. Chorus II. I am He who created
the waters and the great overflow, He who made for the bull his mother
whose parent he himself is. Chorus I I am He who made heaven and the
secrets of its horizon; as to the gods I it was who placed their souls
in them. Chorus II. I am He who when he opens his eyes there is light
in the world and when he closes them darkness is present. Chorus I.
The waters of the Nile flow when he commands. Chorus II. But the
gods do not know what his name is. [Authentic.].
The voices, indistinct at first, grew stronger, so that each word
was audible, and when the procession disappeared the words scattered
among the columns, growing ever fainter. At last every sound ceased.
And still those people, thought Ramses, not only eat, drink, and
gather wealth they really perform religious services even in the night-time; though, how is that to affect the statue?
The prince had seen more than once the statues of boundary
divinities bespattered with mud by the inhabitants of another province,
or shot at from bows or slings by mercenary soldiers. If gods are not
offended by insult, they must also care little for prayers and
processions. Besides, who has seen gods? said the prince to himself.
The immensity of the temple, its countless columns, the lamps
burning in front of the statue, all this attracted Ramses. He wished to
look around in that mysterious immensity, and he went forward. Then it
seemed to him that some hand from behind touched his head tenderly. He
looked around. No one was there; so he went farther.
This time the two hands of some person seized him by the head, and a
third, a great hand, rested on his shoulder.
Who is here? cried he prince; and he rushed in among the columns.
But he stumbled and almost fell: some one caught him by the feet. Again
terror mastered Ramses more than in the cell. He fled distracted,
knocking against columns which seemed to bar the way to him, and
darkness closed around the man on all sides.
Oh, save, holy goddess, save me! whispered he.
At this moment he stopped: some yards in front of him was the great
door of a temple through which the starry sky was visible. He turned
his head. Amid the forest of gigantic columns lamps were burning, and
the gleam of them was reflected faintly from the bronze knees of the
holy Hator.
The prince returned to his cell, crushed and excited; his heart
throbbed like that of a bird caught in a net. For the first time in
many years he fell with his face to the earth and prayed ardently for
favor and forgiveness.
Thou wilt be heard, answered a sweet voice above him.
Ramses raised his head quickly, but there was no one in the cell:
the door was closed, the walls were thick. He prayed on therefore more
ardently, and fell asleep in that position, with his face on the stones
and his arms extended.
When he woke next morning, he was another man: he had experienced
the might of the gods, and favor had been promised.
From that time through a long series of days he gave himself to
devotional exercises with faith and alacrity. In his cell he spent long
hours over prayers, he had his head shaven, and put on priestly
garments, and four times in twenty-four hours he took part in a chorus
of the youngest priests.
His past life, taken up with amusements, roused in him aversion, and
the disbelief which he had acquired amid foreigners and dissolute youth
filled him with dread in that interval. And if that day the choice had
been given him to take either the throne or the priestly office, he
would have hesitated.
A certain day the great prophet of the temple summoned the prince,
and reminded him that he had not entered for prayers exclusively, but
to learn wisdom. The prophet praised his devotion, declared that he was
purified then from worldly foulness, and commanded him to become
acquainted with the schools connected with that temple.
Rather through obedience than curiosity, the prince went directly
from him to the interior court, where the department of reading and
writing was situated.
That was a great hall, lighted through an opening in the roof. On
mats some tens of naked pupils were seated holding wax tablets in their
hands. One wall was of smooth alabaster; before it stood a teacher who
wrote characters with chalks of various colors.
When the prince entered, the pupils, almost all of the same age that
he was, fell on their faces. The teacher bowed, and stopped his actual
labor to explain to the youths the great meaning of knowledge.
My beloved, said he, a man who has no heart for wisdom must
occupy himself with handwork and torment his eyesight. But he who
understands the worth of knowledge and forms himself accordingly may
gain all kinds of power and every court office. Remember this.
[Authentic]
Look at the wretched fate of men unacquainted with writing. A smith
is black and grimy, his hands are full of lumps, and he toils night and
day all his lifetime. The quarryman pulls his arms out to satisfy his
stomach. The mason while forming a capital in lotus shape is hurled off
by wind from the scaffold. A weaver has bent knees, a maker of weapons
is ever traveling: barely does he come to his house in the evening when
he must leave it. The fingers of a wall painter smell disagreeably, and
his time passes in trimming up trifles. The courier when taking
farewell of his family must leave a will, for he may have to meet wild
beasts or Asiatics.
I have shown you the lot of men of various labors, for I wish you
to love writing, which is your mother, and now I will present to you
its beauties. It is not an empty word on earth, it is the most
important of all occupations. He who makes use of writing is respected
from childhood; he accomplishes every great mission. But he who takes
no part in it lives on in wretchedness. School sciences are as
difficult as mountains, but one day of them lasts through eternity. So
learn quickly and you will love them. The scribe has a princely
position; his pen and his book win him wealth and acceptance.
After a sounding discourse on the dignity of knowledge, a discourse
which Egyptian pupils had heard without change for three millenniums,
the master took chalk and on the alabaster wall began to write the
alphabet. Each letter was expressed through a number of hieroglyphs, or
a number of demotic characters. The picture of an eye, a bird, or a
panther signified A, a sheep or a pot B, a man standing or a boat T, a
serpent R, a man sitting or a star S. The abundance of signs expressing
each sound made the art of reading or writing extremely laborious.
Ramses was wearied by mere listening, during which the only relief
was when the teacher commanded some pupil to draw, or to name some
letter, and beat him with a cane when he failed in his effort.
Taking farewell of the teacher and the pupils, the prince from the
school of scribes passed to the school of surveyors. There they taught
youth to draw plans of fields which were for the most part rectangular,
also to take the elevation of land by means of two laths and a square.
In this department also they explained the art of writing numbers no
less involved in hieroglyphic or demotic characters. But pure
arithmetical problems formed a higher course, and were solved by means
of bullets.
Ramses had enough of this, and only after some days would he visit
the school of medicine.
This was also a hospital, or rather great garden containing a
multitude of fragrant plants and trees. Patients passed whole days in
the open air and in sunlight, on beds where strips of stretched canvas
took the place of mattresses.
The greatest activity reigned when the prince entered. Some patients
were bathing in a pond of running water; attendants were rubbing one
man with fragrant ointments, and burning perfumes before another. There
were some whom they had put to sleep by looking at them and by
stretching out their bodies; one patient was groaning while they were
setting his sprained ankle.
To a certain woman who was grievously sick the priest was giving
some mixture from a goblet, while uttering an enchantment which had
power in connection with this remedy,
Go, cure, go, drive that out of my heart, out of my members.
[Authentic]
Then the prince in company with a great leech went to the pharmacy,
where one of the priests was preparing cures from plants, honey, olive
oil, from the skins of serpents and lizards, from the bones and fat of
beasts. When Ramses questioned him, the man did not take his eyes from
the work. He looked continually, and ground the materials, uttering a
prayer as he did so,
Thou hast cured Isis, Thou hast cured Isis, Thou hast cured Horus O
Isis, great enchantress, make me well, free me from all evil, from
harmful red things, from fever of the god, from fever of the goddess!
O Shauagat, eenagate, synie! Erukate! Kauaruchagate! Paparauka
paparaka paparura.
What is he saying? asked the prince.
A secret, answered the leech, putting his finger on his lips.
When they came out to an empty court, Ramses said to the great
leech,
Tell me, holy father, what is the art of curing, and what are its
methods. For I have heard that sickness is an evil spirit which settles
in a man and torments him, because it is hungry, until it receives the
food that it wishes. And that one evil spirit or sickness feeds on
honey, another on olive oil, and a third on the excreta of animals. A
leech, therefore, should know first what spirit has settled in the sick
man, and then what kind of nourishment is required by that spirit, so
that it should not torture the patient.
The priest thought awhile and then answered,
What sickness is and in what way it falls on the human body, I
cannot tell, O Ramses. But to thee I will explain, for Thou hast been
purified, how we govern ourselves in giving medicine.
Suppose a given man to be sick in the liver. We priests know that
the liver is under the star Peneter-Deva, [Planet Venus] that the cure
must depend on that star.
But here the sages are divided into two schools. Some assert that
it is necessary to give the man who is sick in his liver things over
which Peneter-Deva has influence, therefore copper, lapis lazuli,
extract of flowers, above all verbena and valerian, finally, various
parts of the body of the turtle-dove and the goat. Other leeches
consider that when the liver is diseased it is necessary to cure it
with just the opposite remedies, and the opponent of Peneter-Deva being
Sebek, [Planet Mercury] to give quicksilver, emerald, and agate,
hazel-wood and coltsfoot, also parts of the body of a toad and an owl
rubbed into powder.
But this is not all, for it is necessary to think of the day, the
month, and the hour of the day, for each of these spaces of time are
under the influence of a star which must support or weaken the action
of the medicine. Besides, it is needful to remember what star and what
sign of the Zodiac rules the sick person. Only when the leech considers
all these can he prescribe an infallible remedy.
And do ye help all sick people in the temple?
The priest shook his head.
No. The mind of man, which should take in all these details of
which I have spoken, makes mistakes very easily. And what is worse,
envious spirits, the geniuses of other temples, jealous of their fame,
frequently hinder the leech and destroy the effect of his medicines.
The result, therefore, may be that one patient will return to perfect
health, another simply grows better, while a third remains without
change, though there happen some who become still sicker, or even die
This is as the gods will!
The prince listened with attention, but confessed in soul that he
did not understand greatly. All at once he recalled the object of his
visit to the temple, and inquired of the great leech unexpectedly,
Ye were to show me, holy father, the secret of the treasure of the
pharaoh. Was it those things which we have seen?
By no means. We know nothing of state affairs. But when the great
seer comes, the holy priest Pentuer, he will remove from thy eyes the
curtain.
Ramses took leave of the leech with increased curiosity as to what
they were to show him.
CHAPTER XXVII
THE temple received Pentuer with great honor, and the inferior
priests went out half an hour's journey to greet him. From all the
wonderful places of Lower Egypt many prophets had assembled with the
intent to hear words of wisdom. A couple of days later came the high
priest Mefres and the prophet Mentezufis. These two rendered honor to
Pentuer, not only because he was a counselor of Herhor and
notwithstanding his youth a member of the supreme college, but because
this priest enjoyed favor throughout Egypt. The gods had given him a
memory which seemed more than human; they had given him eloquence, and
above all a marvelous gift of clear vision. In every affair he saw
points hidden from others, and was able to explain them in a way
understood by all listeners.
More than one nomarch, or high official of the pharaoh, on learning
that Pentuer was to celebrate a religious solemnity in the temple of
Hator, envied the humblest priest, since he would hear a man inspired
by divinities.
The priests who went forth to greet Pentuer felt sure that that
dignitary would show himself in a court chariot, or in a litter borne
by eight slaves. What was their amazement at beholding a lean ascetic,
bareheaded, wearing a coarse garment, riding on a she ass, and
unattended! He greeted them with great humility, and when they
conducted him to the temple he made an offering to the divinity and
went straightway to examine the place of the coming festival.
Thenceforth no one saw Pentuer, but in the temple and the adjoining
courts there was an uncommon activity. Men brought costly furniture,
grain, garments. A number of hundreds of pupils and workmen were freed
from their employments; with these Pentuer shut himself up in the court
and worked at preparations.
After eight days of hard labor he informed the high priest of Hator
that all things were ready.
During this time Prince Ramses, who was hidden in his cell, gave
himself up to prayer and fasting. At last on a certain date about three
hours after midday a number of priests, arrayed in two ranks, came and
invited him to the solemnity.
In the vestibule of the temple the high priest greeted the prince,
and with him burned incense before the great statue of Hator. Then they
turned to a low, narrow corridor, at the end of which a fire was
burning. The air of the corridor was filled with the odor of pitch
which was boiling in a kettle. Near the kettle, through an opening in
the pavement, rose dreadful groans and curses.
What does that mean? inquired Ramses of a priest among those
attending him.
The priest gave no answer; on the faces as far as could be seen
emotion and terror were evident. At this moment the high priest Mefres
seized a great ladle, took boiling pitch from the kettle, and said in
loud accents,
May all perish thus who divulge temple secrets!
Next he poured pitch into the opening in the pavement, and from
below came a roar,
Ye are killing me. Oh, if ye have in your hearts even a trace of
compassion, groaned a voice,
May the worms gnaw thy body, said Mentezufis, as he poured melted
pitch into the opening.
Dogs jackals! groaned the voice.
May thy heart be consumed by fire and its ashes be hurled into the
desert, said the next priest, repeating the ceremony.
O gods! is it possible to suffer as I do? was the answer from
beneath the pavement.
May thy soul, with the image of its shame and its crime, wander
onward through places where live happy people, said a second priest;
and he poured another ladle of burning pitch into the aperture.
Oh, may the earth devour you! mercy! let me breathe!
Before the turn came to Ramses the voice underground was silent.
So do the gods punish traitors, said the high priest of the temple
to the viceroy.
The prince halted, and fixed on him eyes full of anger. It seemed to
Ramses that he would burst out with indignation, and leave that
assembly of executioners; but he felt a fear of the gods and advanced
behind others in silence.
The haughty heir understood now that there was a power before which
the pharaohs incline. He was seized by despair almost; he wished to
flee, to renounce the throne. Meanwhile he held silence and walked on,
surrounded by priests chanting prayers.
Now I know, thought he, where people go who are unpleasant to the
servants of divinity. But this thought did not decrease his horror.
Leaving the narrow corridor full of smoke, the procession found
itself on an elevation beneath the open sky. Below was an immense court
surrounded on three sides by low buildings instead of a wall. From the
place where the priests halted was a kind of amphitheatre with five
broad platforms by which it was possible to pass along the whole court
or to descend to the bottom.
In the court no one was present, but certain people were looking out
of buildings.
The high priest Mefres, as chief dignitary in the assembly,
presented Pentuer to the viceroy. The mild face of the ascetic did not
harmonize with the horrors which had taken place in the corridor; so
the prince wondered. To say something, he said to Pentuer,
It seems to me that I have met thee somewhere, pious father?
The past year at the maneuvers near Pi-Bailos. I was there with his
worthiness Herhor.
The resonant and calm voice of Pentuer arrested the prince. He had
heard that voice on some uncommon occasion. But where and when had he
heard it?
In every case the priest made an agreeable impression. If he could
only forget the cries of that man whom they had covered with boiling
pitch!
We may begin, said Mefres.
Pentuer went to the middle of the amphitheatre and clapped his
hands. From the low buildings a crowd of female dancers issued forth,
and priests came out with music, also with a small statue of the
goddess Hator. The musicians preceded, the dancers followed, performing
a sacred dance; finally the statue moved on surrounded by the smoke of
censers. In this way they went around the court and stopping after
every few steps, implored the divinity for a blessing, and asked evil
spirits to leave the enclosure, where there was to be a solemnity full
of secrets.
When the procession had returned to the buildings, Pentuer stepped
forward. Dignitaries present to the number of two or three hundred
gathered round him.
By the will of his holiness the pharaoh, began Pentuer, and with
consent of the supreme priestly power, we are to initiate the heir to
the throne, Ramses, into some details of life in Egypt, details known
only to the divinities who govern the country and the temples. I know,
worthy fathers, that each of you would enlighten the young prince
better in these things than I can; ye are full of wisdom, and the
goddess Mut speaks through you. But since the duty has fallen on me,
who in presence of you am but dust and a pupil, permit me to accomplish
it under your worthy inspection and guidance.
A murmur of satisfaction was heard among the learned priests at this
manner. Pentuer turned to the viceroy.
For some months, O servant of the gods, Ramses, as a traveler lost
in the desert seeks a road, so Thou art seeking an answer to the
question: Why has the income of the holy pharaoh diminished, and why is
it decreasing? Thou hast asked the nomarchs, and though they explained
according to their power, Thou wert not satisfied, though the highest
human wisdom belongs to those dignitaries. Thou didst turn to the chief
scribes, but in spite of their efforts these men were like birds in a
net, unable to free themselves without assistance, for the reason of
man, though trained in the school of scribes, is not in a position to
take in the immensity of these questions. At last, wearied by barren
explanations, Thou didst examine the lands of the provinces, their
people, the works of their hands, but didst arrive at nothing. For
there are things of which people are silent as stones, but concerning
which even stones will give answer if light from the gods only falls on
them.
When in this manner all these earthly powers and wisdoms
disappointed thee, Thou didst turn to the gods. Barefoot, thy head
sprinkled with ashes, Thou didst come in the guise of a penitent to
this great sanctuary, where by means of suffering and prayer Thou hast
purified thy body and strengthened thy spirit. The gods but especially
the mighty Hator listened to thy prayers, and through my unworthy lips
give an answer, and mayst Thou write it down in thy heart profoundly.
Whence does he know, thought the prince, meanwhile, that I asked
the scribes and nomarchs? Aha! Mefres and Mentezufis told him. For that
matter, they know everything.
Listen, continued Pentuer, and I will discover to thee, with
permission of these dignitaries, what Egypt was four hundred years ago
in the reign of the most glorious and pious nineteenth Theban dynasty,
and what it is at present.
When the first pharaoh of that dynasty, Ramen-Pehuti-Ramessu,
assumed power over the country, the income of the treasury in wheat,
cattle, beer, skins, vessels, and various articles rose to a hundred
and thirty thousand talents. If a people had existed who could exchange
gold for all these goods, the pharaoh would have had yearly one hundred
and thirty-three thousand minas of gold. [Mina equals one and a half
kilograms.] And since one warrior can carry on his shoulders the weight
of twenty-six minas, about five thousand warriors would have been
needed to carry that treasure.
The priests whispered to one another without hiding their wonder.
Even the prince forgot the man tortured to death beneath the pavement.
Today, said Pentuer, the yearly income of his holiness for all
products of his land is worth only ninety-eight thousand talents. For
these it would be possible to obtain as much gold as four thousand
warriors could carry.
That the income of the state has decreased greatly, I know, said
Ramses, but what is the cause of this?
Be patient, O servant of the gods, replied Pentuer. It is not the
income of his holiness alone that is subject to decrease. During the
nineteenth dynasty Egypt had under arms one hundred and eighty thousand
warriors. If by the action of the gods every soldier of that time had
been turned into a pebble the size of a grape.
That cannot be! said Ramses.
The gods can do anything, answered Mefres, the high priest,
severely.
But better, continued Pentuer, if each soldier were to place on
the ground one pebble, there would be one hundred and eighty thousand
pebbles; and, look, worthy fathers, these pebbles would occupy so much
space. He pointed to a quadrangle of reddish color to the court. In
this figure the pebbles deposited by warriors of the time of Ramses I.
would find their places. This figure is nine yards long and about five
wide. This figure is ruddy; it has the color of Egyptian bodies, for in
those days all our warriors were Egyptian exclusively.
The priests began to whisper a second time. The prince frowned, for
that seemed to him a reprimand, since he loved foreign soldiers.
Today, said Pentuer, we assemble one hundred and twenty thousand
warriors with great difficulty. If each one of those cast his pebble on
the ground, they would form a figure of this sort. Look this way,
worthiness. At the side of the first quadrangle lay a second of the
same width, but considerably shorter; its color was not uniform either,
but was composed of a number of colors. This figure, said Pentuer,
is about five yards wide, but is only six yards in length. An immense
number of men is now lacking, our army has lost one-third of its
warriors.
Wisdom of men like thee, O prophet, will bring more good to the
state than an army, interrupted the high priest.
Pentuer bent before him and continued,
In this new figure which represents the present army of the pharaoh
ye see, worthy men, besides the ruddy color which designates Egyptians
by blood, three other stripes, black, white, and yellow. They represent
mercenary divisions, Ethiopians, Asiatics, Greeks, and Libyans. There
are thirty thousand of them altogether, but they cost as much as fifty
thousand Egyptians.
We must do away with foreign regiments at the earliest, said Me f
res. They are costly, unsuitable, and teach our people infidelity and
insolence. At present there are many Egyptians who do not fall on their
faces before the priests; more, some of them have gone so far as to
steal from graves and temples.
Therefore away with the mercenaries! said Mefres, passionately.
The country has received from them nothing save harm, and our
neighbors suspect us of hostile ideas.
Away with mercenaries! Dismiss these unruly infidels! cried the
priests.
When in years to come, O Ramses, Thou wilt ascend the throne,
added Mefres, Thou wilt fulfill this sacred duty to the gods and to
Egypt.
Yes, fulfill it! free thy people from unbelievers! cried the
priests.
Ramses bent his head, and was silent. The blood flew to his heart.
He felt that the ground was trembling under him.
He was to dismiss the best part of the army, he, who would like to
have twice as great an army and four times as many mercenary warriors.
They are pitiless with me, thought Ramses.
Speak on, O Pentuer, sent down from heaven to us, said Mefres.
So then, holy men, continued Pentuer, we have learned of two
misfortunes, the pharaoh's income has decreased, and his army is
diminished.
What need of an army? grumbled the high priest, shaking his head
contemptuously.
And now, with the favor of the gods and your permission, I will
explain why it has happened thus, why the treasury will decrease
further, and troops be still fewer in the future.
The prince raised his head and looked at the speaker. He thought no
longer now of the man put to death beneath the corridor.
Pentuer passed a number of steps along the amphitheatre, and after
him the dignitaries.
Do ye see at your feet that long, narrow strip of green with a
broad triangular space at the end of it? On both sides of the strip lie
limestone, granite, and, behind these, sandy places. In the middle of
the green flows a stream, which in the triangular space is divided into
a number of branches.
That is the Nile! That is Egypt! cried the priests.
But look, interrupted Mefres, with emotion. I will discover the
river. Do ye see those two blue veins running from the elbow to the
hand? Is not that the Nile and its canals, which begins opposite the
Alabaster mountains and flows to Fayum? And look at the back of my
hand: there are as many veins there as the sacred river has branches
below Memphis. And do not my fingers remind you of the number of
branches through which the Nile sends its waters to the sea?
A great truth! exclaimed the priests, looking at their hands.
Here, I tell you, continued the excited high priest, that Egypt
is the trace of the arm of Osiris. Here on this land the great god
rested his arm: in Thebes lay his divine elbow, his fingers reached the
sea, and the Nile is his veins. What wonder that we call this country
blessed!
Evidently, said the priest, Egypt is the express imprint of the
arm of Osiris.
Has Osiris seven fingers on his hand, interrupted the prince, for
the Nile has seven branches falling into the sea?
Deep silence followed.
Young man, retorted Mefres, with kindly irony, dost suppose that
Osiris could not have seven fingers if it pleased him?
Of course he could! said the other priests.
Speak on, renowned Pentuer, said Mentezufis.
Ye are right, worthy fathers, began Pentuer: this stream with its
branches is a picture of the Nile; the narrow strip of green bounded by
stones and sand is Upper Egypt, and that triangular space, cut with
veins, is a picture of Lower Egypt, the most extensive and richest part
of the country.
Well, in the beginning of the nineteenth dynasty, all Egypt, from
the cataract to the sea, included five hundred thousand measures of
land. On every measure lived sixteen persons: men, women, and children.
But during four hundred succeeding years almost with each generation a
piece of fertile soil was lost to Egypt.
The speaker made a sign. A number of young priests ran out of the
building and sprinkled sand on various parts of the green area.
During each generation, continued the priest, fertile land
diminished, and the narrow strip of it became much narrower. At present
our country instead of five hundred thousand measures has only four
hundred thousand or during two dynasties Egypt has lost laud which
supported two millions of people.
In the assembly again rose a murmur of horror.
And dost Thou know, O Ramses, servant of the gods, whither those
spaces have vanished where on a time were fields of wheat and barley,
or where flocks and herds pastured? Thou knowest that sands of the
desert have covered them. But has any one told thee why this came to
pass? It came to pass because there was a lack of men who with buckets
and ploughs fight the desert from morning till evening. Finally, dost
Thou know why these toilers of the gods disappeared? Whither did they
go? What swept them out of the country? Foreign wars did it. Our nobles
conquered enemies, our pharaohs immortalized their worthy names as far
away as the Euphrates River, but like beasts of burden our common men
carried food for them, they carried water, they carried other weights,
and died along the road by thousands.
To avenge those bones scattered now throughout eastern deserts, the
western sands have swallowed our fields, and it would require immense
toil and many generations to win back that dark Egyptian earth from the
sand grave which covers it.
Listen! listen! cried Mefres, some god is speaking through the
lips of Pentuer. It is true that our victorious wars are the grave of
Egypt.
Ramses could not collect his thoughts. It seemed to him that
mountains of sand were falling on his head at that moment.
I have said, continued Pentuer, that great labor would be needed
to dig out Egypt and restore the old-time wealth devoured by warfare.
But have we the power to carry out that project?
Again he advanced some steps, and after him the excited listeners.
Since Egypt became Egypt, no one had displayed so searchingly the
disasters of the country, though all men knew that they had happened.
During the nineteenth dynasty Egypt had eight millions of
inhabitants. If every man, woman, old man, and child had put down in
this place one bean, the grains would make a figure of this kind.
He indicated with his hand a court where one by the side of another
lay eight great quadrangles covered with red beans.
That figure is sixty yards long, thirty yards wide, and as ye see,
pious fathers, the grains composing it are of the same kind, for the
people of that time were from Egyptian grandfathers and great-grandfathers. But look now.
He went farther, and indicated another group of quadrangles of
various colors.
Ye see this figure which is thirty yards wide, but only forty-five
yards in length. Why is this? Because there are in it only six
quadrangles, for at present Egypt has not eight, but only six millions
of inhabitants. Consider, besides, that as the former figure was
composed exclusively of red Egyptian beans in the present one are
immense strips of black, yellow, and white beans. For in our army and
among the people there are now very many foreigners: black Ethiopians,
yellow Syrians and Phoenicians, white Greeks and Libyans.
They interrupted him. The priests who listened began to embrace him;
Mefres was weeping.
Never yet has there been such a prophet. One cannot imagine when he
could make such calculations, said the best mathematician in the
temple of Hator.
Fathers, said Pentuer, do not overestimate my services. Long
years ago in our temples the condition of the state was represented in
this manner. I have only disinterred that which later generations had
in some degree forgotten.
But the reckoning? asked the mathematician.
The reckonings are continued unbrokenly in all the provinces and
temples, replied Pentuer. The general amounts are found in the palace
of his holiness.
But the figures? exclaimed the mathematician.
Our fields are arranged in just such figures, and the geometers of
the state study them at school.
We know not what to admire most in this priest, his wisdom or his
humility, said Mefres. Since we have such a man, the gods have not
forgotten us.
At that moment the guard watching on the pylons of the temple
summoned those present to prayer.
In the evening I will finish the explanations, said Pentuer; now
I will say a few words in addition.
Ye inquire, worthy fathers, why I use beans for these pictures. I
do so because a grain put in the ground brings a harvest to the
husbandmen yearly; so a man brings tribute every year to the treasury.
If in any province two million less beans are sown than in past
years, the following harvest will be notably less, and the
earth-tillers will have a poorer income. In the state also, when two
millions of population are gone, the inflow of taxes must diminish.
Ramses listened with attention, and walked away in silence.
CHAPTER XXVIII
WHEN the priests and the heir to the throne returned to the
courtyard in the evening, several hundred torches were gleaming so
brightly that it was as clear there as in the daytime.
At a sign from Mefres there came out again a procession of
musicians, dancers, and minor priests carrying a statue of the
cow-headed Hator; and when they had driven away evil sprits, Pentuer
began to explain again.
Ye see, worthy fathers, said he, that since the time of the
nineteenth dynasty a hundred thousand measures of land and two million
people have vanished out of Egypt. This explains why the income of the
state has decreased thirty-two thousand talents; that it has decreased
is known to all of us.
But this is only the beginning of misfortunes to the state and the
treasury. Ninety-eight thousand talents of income apparently remain to
his holiness. But do ye think that the pharaoh receives all this
income?
I will tell you what his worthiness Herhor discovered in the
province of the Hare.
During the nineteenth dynasty twenty thousand people dwelt in that
province; they paid three hundred and fifty talents of yearly taxes. To
day there are hardly fifteen thousand, and these, of course, pay the
treasury only two hundred and seventy talents. Meanwhile the pharaoh,
instead of receiving two hundred and seventy talents, receives one
hundred and seventy.
'Why is that?' inquired Herhor; and this is what an investigation
discovered: During the nineteenth dynasty there were in the district
about one hundred officials, and these received each one thousand
drachmas yearly salary. Today in that same district, though the people
have decreased, there are more than two hundred officials who receive
two thousand five hundred drachmas yearly.
It is unknown to his worthiness Herhor if this is the case in every
district. But this much is certain, that the treasury of the pharaoh,
instead of ninety-eight thousand talents annually, has only seventy-four thousand.
Say, worthy father, fifty thousand, interrupted Ramses.
I will explain that too, replied Pentuer. In every case remember,
prince, that the pharaoh's treasury pays today twenty-four thousand
talents to officials, while it gave only ten thousand during the
nineteenth dynasty.
Deep silence reigned among the dignitaries, for more than one of
them had a relative in office, well paid moreover. But Pentuer was
unterrified.
Now, continued he, I will show thee, O heir, the manner of life
among officials, and the lot of common people in those old times and in
our day.
Will it not take too much time? Besides, every man can see for
himself, murmured the priests, very promptly.
I wish to know this, said the prince, with decision.
The murmur ceased. Pentuer went down along the steps of the
amphitheatre to the court, and after him went the prince, the high
priests, Mefres and the others.
They halted before a long curtain of mats, forming as it were a
palisade. At a sign from Pentuer some tens of minor priests hastened up
with blazing torches. Another sign, and a portion of the curtain fell.
From the lips of those present came a shout of admiration. They had
before them a brightly illuminated tableau in which about one hundred
persons were the characters.
The tableau was divided into three stories; on the lower story stood
earth-tillers, on a higher were officials, and on the highest was the
golden throne of the pharaoh resting on two lions whose heads were the
arms of the throne.
It was in this way, said Pentuer, during the nineteenth dynasty.
Look at the earth-tillers. At their ploughs ye see sometimes oxen,
sometimes asses; their picks, spades, and shovels are bronze, and hence
are lasting. See what stalwart men they are! Today one could find such
only in the guard of his holiness. Their hands and feet are strong,
their breasts full, their faces smiling. All are bathed and anointed
with olive oil. Their wives are occupied in preparing food and clothing
or in washing house utensils; the children are at school or are
playing.
The laborer of that time, as ye see, ate wheaten bread, beans,
flesh, fish, and fruit; he drank beer or wine, and see how beautiful
were the plates and pitchers. Look at the caps, aprons, and capes of
the men: all adorned with various-colored needlework. Still more
beautifully embroidered were the skirts of women. And note how
carefully they combed their hair, what brooches, earrings, and
bracelets they had. Those ornaments were made of bronze and colored
enamel; even gold was found among them, though only in the form of
wire.
Raise now your eyes to officials. They wore mantles, but every
laborer wore just such a dress on holidays. They lived exactly as did
laborers, that is, in sufficiency, but modestly. Their furniture was
ornamented somewhat more than that of laborers, and gold rings were
found oftener in their caskets. They made journeys on asses, or in cars
drawn by oxen.
Pentuer clapped his hands and on the stage there was movement. The
laborers gave the officials baskets of grapes, bags of barley, peas and
wheat, jugs of wine, beer, milk and honey, game and stuffs, many pieces
white or colored. The officials took these products, kept a portion for
themselves, but the choicest and most costly they put up higher, for
the throne. The platform where stood the symbol of the pharaoh's power
was covered with products which formed as it were a small mountain.
Ye see, worthy men, said Pentuer, that in those times, when
earth- tillers were satisfied and wealthy, the treasury of his holiness
could hardly find place for the gifts of his subjects. But see what is
happening in our day.
At a new signal a second part of the curtain fell, and another
tableau appeared, similar to the preceding in general outline.
Here are our laborers of the present, said Pentuer, and in his
voice indignation was evident. Their bodies are skin and bones, they
look like sick persons, they are filthy and have forgotten to anoint
themselves with olive oil, but their backs are wounded from beating.
Neither oxen nor asses are near them, for what need is there of
those beasts if ploughs are drawn by women and children? Picks and
shovels are wooden, they spoil easily and that increases men's labor.
They have no clothes whatever; only women wear coarse shirts, and not
even in a dream do they look at embroidery, though their grandfathers
and grandmothers wore it.
Look now at the food of the earth-tillers. At times barley and
dried fish, lotus seed always, rarely a wheat cake, never flesh, beer,
or wine.
Ask them where their utensils and furniture are. They have none,
unless a pitcher for water; nothing could find room in the dens which
they inhabit.
Pardon me now for that to which I turn your attention: Over there a
number of children are lying on the ground; that means that they are
dead. It is wonderful how many children of laborers die from toil and
hunger. And those that die are the happiest, for they who survive go
under the club of the overseer, or are sold to the Phoenician as lambs
to the slaughter.
Emotion stopped his voice; he rested awhile, and then continued amid
the angry silence of the priesthood,
And now look at the officials, how animated they are in rouge, how
beautiful their clothes are! Their wives wear gold bracelets and
earrings, and such fine garments that princes might envy them. Among
laborers not an ox or an ass is now visible, but to make up officials
journey on horseback or in litters. They drink only wine, and that of
good quality.
He clapped his hands, and again there was movement. The laborers
gave the officials bags of wheat, baskets of fruit, wine, game. These
objects the officials as before placed near the throne, but in
quantities considerably smaller. On the pharaoh's platform there was no
longer a mountain of products, but the platform of the officials was
covered.
This is the Egypt of our day, continued Pentuer. Laborers are in
indigence, scribes are wealthy, the treasury is not so full as it once
was. But now.
He gave a sign, and a thing unexpected took place there before them.
Certain hands seized grain, fruit, stuffs from the platforms of the
pharaoh and the officials; and when the amount of the goods had
decreased greatly, those same hands began to seize and lead away
laborers, their wives and children.
The spectators looked with amazement at the peculiar methods of
those mysterious persons. Suddenly some one cried out,
Those are Phoenicians! They plunder us in that way.
That is it, holy fathers, said Pentuer. Those are the hands of
Phoenicians concealed in the midst of us; they plunder the pharaoh and
the scribes, and lead away laborers captive when there is nothing to
drag from them.
Yes! They are jackals! A curse on Phoenicians! Expel them, the
wretches! cried the priests. It is they who inflict the greatest
damage on Egypt.
Not all, however, shouted in that way.
When there was silence, Pentuer commanded to take the torches to the
other side of the court, and thither he conducted his hearers. There
were no tableaux there, but a kind of industrial exhibition.
Be pleased to look, said he. During the nineteenth dynasty
foreigners sent us these things: we received perfumes from Punt; gold,
iron weapons, and chariots of war came from Syria. That is all.
But Egypt manufactured in those days. Look at these immense
pitchers, how many forms, and what a variety of colors.
Or the furniture: that armchair was made of ten thousand pieces of
gold, mother-of-pearl, and woods of various hues. Look at the robes of
that period: what embroidery, what delicacy of material, how many
colors! And the bronze swords, the brooches, bracelets, earrings and
implements of tillage and crafts of various descriptions. All these
were made in this country during the nineteenth dynasty.
He passed to the next group of objects.
But today, look: the pitchers are small and almost without
ornament, the furniture is simple, the stuffs coarse and devoid of
variety. Not one thing made today can we compare as to shape,
durability, or beauty with those of former ages. Why has this
happened?
He advanced a number of steps again, surrounded by torches.
Here is a great number of things, said he, which the Phoenicians
bring us from various regions. Some tens of kinds of incense, colored
glass, furniture, vessels, woven stuffs, chariots, ornaments, all these
come from Asia and are bought by us.
Do ye understand now, worthy fathers, why the Phoenicians tear away
grain, fruit, and cattle from the scribes and the pharaoh? In pay for
those foreign goods which have destroyed our artisans as locusts
destroy vegetation.
Among things obtained through Phoenicians for his holiness, the
nomarchs, and the scribes, gold has the first place.
This kind of commerce is the most accurate picture of calamities
inflicted on Egypt by Asia.
When a man borrows gold to the amount of one talent, he is obliged
in three years to return two talents. But most frequently the
Phoenicians, under pretext of decreasing trouble for the debtor, assure
payment in their own way: that is, debtors for each talent borrowed
give them as tenants for three years two measures of land and
thirty-two people.
See there, worthy fathers, said he, pointing to a part of the
court which was better lighted. That square of land one hundred and
ten yards in length and as wide signifies two measures; the men, women,
and children of that crowd mean eight families. All that together:
people and land pass for three years into dreadful captivity. During
that time their owner, the pharaoh or a nomarch, has no profit at all
from them; at the end of that term he receives the land back exhausted,
and of the people, twenty in number at the very highest, the rest have
died under torture!
Those present shuddered with horror.
I have said that the Phoenician takes two measures of land and
thirty- two people for three years in exchange for one talent. See what
a space of laud and what a crowd of people; look now at my hand.
This piece of gold which I grasp here, this lump, less than a hen's
egg in size, is a talent.
Can you estimate the complete insignificance of the Phoenicians in
this commerce? This small lump of gold has no real value: it is yellow,
it is heavy, a man cannot eat it, and that is the end of the matter. A
man does not clothe himself with gold and he cannot stop his hunger or
thirst with it. If he had a lump of gold as big as the pyramid, he
would be as poor at the foot of it as a Libyan wandering through the
western desert where there is neither a date nor a drop of water.
And see, for a piece of this barren metal a Phoenician takes a
piece of land which suffices to feed and clothe thirty-two people, and
besides that he takes the people. For three years he exercises power
over beings who know how to cultivate land, gather in grain, make flour
and beer, weave garments, build houses, and make furniture.
At the same time the pharaoh or the nomarch is deprived for three
years of the services of those people. They pay him no tribute, they
carry no burdens for the army, but they toil to give income to the
greedy Phoenician.
Ye know, worthy fathers, that at present there is not a year during
which in this or that province an insurrection does not break out among
laborers exhausted by hunger, borne down by toil, or beaten with
sticks. And some of those men perish, others are sent to the quarries,
while the country is depopulated more and more for this reason only,
that the Phoenician gave a lump of gold to some land-owner! Is it
possible to imagine greater misery? And is Egypt not to lose land and
people yearly under such conditions? Victorious wars undermined Egypt,
but Phoenician gold-dealers are finishing it.
On the faces of the priests satisfaction was depicted; they were
more willing to hear of the guile of Phoenicians than the excesses of
scribes throughout Egypt.
Pentuer rested awhile, then he turned to the viceroy.
For some months, said he, Ramses, O servant of the gods, Thou
hast been inquiring why the income of his holiness is diminished. The
wisdom of the gods has shown thee that not only the treasure has
decreased but also the army, and that both those sources of royal power
will decrease still further. And the end will be utter ruin for this
country, unless heaven sends down a ruler who will stop the inundation
of misery which for some hundreds of years is overwhelming Egypt.
The treasury of the pharaohs was full when we had more land and
people. We must win back from the desert the fertile lands which it has
swallowed, and remove from the people those burdens which weaken and
kill them.
The priests were alarmed again, lest Pentuer might mention scribes
for the second time.
Thou hast seen, prince, with thy own eyes and before witnesses,
that in the epoch when people were well nourished, stalwart, and
satisfied, the treasury of the pharaoh was full. But when people began
to look wretched, when they were forced to plough with their wives and
children, when lotus seed took the place of wheat and flesh, the
treasury grew needy. If Thou wish therefore to bring the state to that
power which it had before the wars of the nineteenth dynasty, if Thou
desire that the pharaoh, his scribes, and his army should live in
plenty, assure long peace to the land and prosperity to the people. Let
grown persona eat flesh again and dress in embroidered garments, and
let children, instead of groaning and dying under blows, play, or go to
school.
Remember, finally, that Egypt bears within its bosom a deadly
serpent.
Those present listened with fear and curiosity.
That serpent which is sucking at the blood of the people, the
property of the nomarchs, and the power of the pharaoh is the
Phoenician!
Away with the Phoenicians! cried the priests. Blot out all debts
to them. Admit not their ships and merchants.
Silence was enforced by the high priest Mefres, who with tears in
his eyes turned to Pentuer.
I doubt not, said he, that the holy Hator is speaking through thy
lips to us. Not only because no man could be so wise and all-knowing as
Thou art, but besides I have seen two flames, as horns, above thy
forehead. I thank thee for the great words with which Thou hast
dispelled our ignorance. I bless thee, and I pray the gods when I am
summoned before them to make thee my advocate.
An unbroken shout from the rest of the assembly supported the
blessing of the highest dignitary. The priests were the better
satisfied, since alarm had hung over them lest Pentuer might refer to
the scribes a second time. But the sage knew how to restrain himself:
he indicated the internal wound of the state, but he did not inflame
it, and therefore his triumph was perfect.
Prince Ramses did not thank Pentuer, he only dropped his head to his
own bosom. No one doubted, however, that the discourse of the prophet
had shaken the soul of the heir, and that it was a seed from which
prosperity and glory might spring up for Egypt.
Next morning Pentuer, without taking farewell of any, left the
temple at sunrise and journeyed away in the direction of Memphis.
For a number of days Prince Ramses held converse with no man, he
meditated; he sat in his cell, or walked up and down the shady
corridors. Work in his soul was progressing.
In reality Pentuer had declared no new truth; all had been
complaining of the decrease of laud and people in Egypt, of the misery
of workmen, the abuses of scribes, and the extortion of Phoenicians.
But the discourse of the prophet had given them tangible forms, and
illustrated facts very clearly.
The Phoenicians terrified the prince; he had not estimated till that
time the enormity of the misfortunes brought on people of Egypt by
those merchants. His horror was all the more vivid, since he had rented
out his own subjects to Dagon, and was himself witness of the way in
which the banker collected his dues from them.
But his entanglement in the business of Phoenicians produced strange
results in Ramses. He did not wish to think of Phoenicians, and
whenever anger flamed up in his mind against those strangers the
feeling of shame was destroyed in him. He was in a certain sense their
confederate. Meanwhile he understood perfectly how serious the decrease
was in land and in people, and on this he placed the main emphasis in
his lonely meditation.
If we had, said he to himself, those two millions of people lost
by Egypt, we might through help from them win back those fertile lands
from the desert, we might even extend those lands. And then in spite of
Phoenicians our laborers would be in a better condition, and there
would be also increase in the income of Egypt. But where can we find
men?
Chance gave the answer.
On a certain evening the prince, while walking through the gardens
of the temple, met a crowd of captives whom Nitager had seized on the
eastern boundary and sent to the goddess Hator. Those people were
perfectly built, they did more work than Egyptians, and they did it
because they were properly nourished, hence even satisfied with their
position.
When he saw them, his mind was cleared as if by a lightning flash.
He almost lost presence of mind from emotion. The country needs men,
many men, hundreds of thousands, even a million, two millions. And here
are men! The only need was to turn to Asia, seize all whom they might
meet on the road, and send them to Egypt. War must continue till so
many were taken that every earth-tiller from the cataract to the sea
might have his own bondman.
Thus rose a plan, colossal and simple, thanks to which Egypt would
find population, the earth-tillers aid in their labor, and the treasury
of the pharaoh an endless source of income.
The prince was enchanted, though next day a new doubt sprang up in
him.
Pentuer had announced with great emphasis, while Herhor had asserted
still earlier, that victorious wars were the source of misfortune for
the country. From this it resulted that to raise Egypt by a new war was
impossible.
Pentuer is a great sage, and so is Herhor, thought Ramses. If
they consider war harmful, if the high priest Mefres and other priests
judge in the same way, then perhaps war is in fact dangerous. It must
be dangerous, if so many holy and wise men insist thus.
Ramses was deeply disappointed. He had thought out a simple method
of elevating Egypt, but the priests maintained that that was the true
way to ruin it. The priests are most holy, and they are wise men.
But something happened which cooled the faith of the prince somewhat
in the truthful speech of the priests, or rather it roused his previous
distrust of them.
Once he was going with a certain leech to the library. The way lay
through a dark and narrow corridor from which the heir drew back with
repulsion.
I will not go by this way, said he.
Why not? inquired the leech, with astonishment.
Dost Thou not remember, holy father, that at the end of that
corridor is an opening in which a certain traitor was tortured to death
without pity.
Aha! answered the leech. There is an opening there into which we
poured boiling pitch at command of Pentuer.
And ye killed a man.
The leech smiled. He was a kindly, gladsome person. So, observing
the indignation of the prince, he said after some meditation,
It is not permitted to betray temple secrets. Of course, before
each of the greater solemnities, we bring this to the mind of younger
candidates.
His tone was so peculiar that Ramses required explanation.
I cannot betray secrets, replied the leech; but promise,
worthiness, to hide a story in thy breast, and I will tell thee one.
Ramses promised. The leech gave this narrative:
A certain Egyptian priest, while visiting temples in the
unbelieving land of Aram, met at one of them a man who seemed to him in
good flesh and satisfied, though he wore wretched garments. 'Explain to
me,' said the priest to the gladsome poor man, 'how it is that, though
Thou art indigent, thy body looks as though Thou wert chief of this
temple.'
That man looked around then to see if any one were listening, and
answered,
'I am fat, because my voice is very woeful; hence I am a martyr at
this temple. When people come to service here, I crawl into an opening
and groan with all the strength that is in my body; for this they give
me food abundantly throughout the year, and a large jug of beer every
day when I am tortured.'
Thus do they manage in the unbelieving land of Aram, said the
leech, as he raised a finger to his lips, and added, Remember, prince,
what Thou hast promised, and of boiling pitch in this place think
whatever suits thee.
This story roused the prince anew; he felt relief because a man had
not been killed in the temple, but all his earlier distrust of priests
sprang into life again.
That they deluded simple people, he knew. He remembered the priests'
procession with the sacred bull Apis, while he was in their school. The
people were convinced that Apis led the priests, while every student
saw that the divine beast went in whatever direction priests drove him.
Who could tell, therefore, that Pentuer's discourse was not intended
for him, as that procession of Apis for the people? For that matter, it
was easy to put on the ground beans of red or other colors, and also it
was not difficult to arrange tableaux. How much more splendid were
those exhibitions which he had seen, even the struggles of Set with
Osiris, in which a number of hundreds of persons assisted. But in that
case, too, did not the priests deceive people? That was given as a
battle of the gods: meanwhile it was carried on by men in disguise. In
it Osiris perished, but the priest who represented Osiris came out as
sound as a rhinoceros. What wonders did they not exhibit there! Water
rose; there were peals of thunder; the earth trembled and vomited fire.
And that was all deception. Why should the exhibition made by Pentuer
be true? Besides, the prince had discovered strong indications that
they wished to deceive him. The man groaning underground and covered,
as it were, with boiling pitch by the priests was deception. But let
that pass. The prince had convinced himself frequently that Herhor did
not want war; Mefres also did not want it. Pentuer was the assistant of
one of them, and the favorite of the other.
Such a struggle was taking place in the prince that it seemed to him
at one time that he understood everything, at another that he was
surrounded by darkness; now he was full of hope, and now he doubted
everything. From hour to hour, from day to day, his soul rose and fell
like the waters of the Nile in the course of its yearly changes.
Gradually, however, the prince recovered his balance, and when the
time came to leave the temple, he had formulated certain views of the
problem.
First of all, he understood clearly that Egypt needed more land and
more people. Second, he believed that the simplest way to find men was
a war with Asia. But Pentuer had proved to him that war could only
heighten the disaster. A new question rose then, did Pentuer speak the
truth, or was he lying? If he spoke the truth, he plunged the prince in
despair, for Ramses saw no means to raise the state except war. Unless
war were made, Egypt would lose population yearly, and the treasury of
the pharaoh would increase its debts till the whole process would end
in some ghastly overthrow, perhaps even in the reign of the coming
pharaoh.
But if Pentuer lied? Why should he lie? Evidently because Herhor,
Mefres, and the whole priestly corporation had persuaded him to act
thus.
But why did priests oppose war? What interests had they in
opposing? Every war brought immense profit to them and the pharaoh.
But would the priests deceive him in an affair so far reaching? It
is true that they deceived very often, but in small matters, not when
it was a question of the future and the existence of the state. It was
not possible to assert that they deceived always. Besides, they were
the servants of the gods, and the guardians of great secrets. Spirits
resided in their temples; of this Ramses convinced himself on the first
night after he had come to that temple of Hator.
But if the gods did not permit the uninitiated to approach their
altars, if they watched so carefully over temples, why did they not
watch over Egypt, which is the greatest of all temples?
When some days later Ramses, after a solemn religious service, left
the temple of Hator amid the blessings of the priests, two questions
were agitating him,
Could war with Asia really harm Egypt? Could the priests in this
question be deceiving him, the heir to the throne?
CHAPTER XXIX
THE prince journeyed on horseback in company with a number of
officers to Pi-Bast, the famous capital of the province of Habu.
The month Paoni had passed, Epiphi was beginning (April and May).
The sun stood high, heralding the most violent season of heat for
Egypt. A mighty wind from the desert had blown in repeatedly; men and
beasts fell because of heat, and on fields and trees a gray dust had
begun to settle under which vegetation was dying.
Roses had been harvested and turned into oil; wheat had been
gathered as well as the second crop of clover. The sweeps and buckets
moved with double energy, irrigating the earth with dirty water to fit
it for new seed. Men had begun to gather grapes and figs. The Nile had
fallen, water in canals was low and of evil odor. Above the whole
country a fine dust was borne along in a deluge of burning sun-rays.
In spite of this Prince Ramses rode on and felt gladsome. The life
of a penitent in the temple had grown irksome; he yearned for feasts,
uproar, and women.
Meanwhile the country, intersected with a net of canals, though flat
and monotonous, was pleasing. In the province of Habu lived people of
another origin: not the old Egyptians, but descendants of the valiant
Hyksos, who on a time had conquered Egypt and governed that laud for a
number of generations.
The old Egyptians despised this remnant of a conquering race
expelled from power afterward, but Ramses looked on them with
satisfaction. They were large and strong, their bearing was proud, and
there was manly energy in their faces. They did not fall prostrate
before the prince and his officers, like Egyptians, but looked at him
without dislike, but also without timidity. Neither were their
shoulders covered with scars from beating; the scribes respected them
because they knew that if a Hyksos were beaten he would return the
blows, and might kill the man who gave them. Moreover the Hyksos
enjoyed the pharaoh's favor, for their people furnished the choicest
warriors.
As the retinue of the heir approached Pi-Bast, whose temples and
palaces were visible through the haze of dust, as through a veil of
muslin, the neighborhood grew more active. Along the broad highway and
the canals men were taking to market cattle, wheat, fruit, wine,
flowers, bread, and a multitude of other articles of daily consumption.
The torrent of people and goods moving toward the city was as noisy and
dense as that outside Memphis in the holiday season. Around Pi-Bast
reigned throughout the whole year the uproar of a market-day, which
ceased only in the night time.
The cause of this was simple. In that city stood the renowned and
ancient temple of Astarte. This temple was revered throughout Western
Asia and attracted throngs of pilgrims. It could be said without
exaggeration that outside Pi-Bast thirty thousand strangers camped
daily, Arabs, Phoenicians, Jews, Philistines, Hittites, Assyrians, and
others. The Egyptian government bore itself kindly toward these
pilgrims, who brought it a considerable income; the priests endured
them, and the people of neighboring provinces carried on an active
trade with them.
For the space of an hour's journey from Pi-Bast the mud huts and
tents of strangers covered the open country. As one neared the city,
those huts increased in number and transient inhabitants swarmed more
and more densely around them. Some were preparing food under the open
sky, others were purchasing provisions which came in continually, still
others were going in procession to the temple. Here and there were
large crowds before places of amusement, where beast-tamers, serpent-charmers, athletes, female dancers, and jugglers exhibited their
adroitness.
Above all this multitude of people were heat and uproar.
Before the gate of the city Ramses was greeted by his court and by
the nomarch of Habu surrounded by his officials. But the greeting,
despite cordiality, was so cold that the astonished viceroy, whispered
to Tutmosis,
What does this mean, that he looks on me as if I had come to
measure out punishment?
Because Thou hast the face of a man who has been associating with
divinity.
He spoke truth. Whether because of ascetic life, or the society of
priests, or of long meditation, the prince had changed greatly. He had
grown thin, his complexion had darkened, and in his face and bearing
much dignity was evident. In the course of weeks he had grown some
years older.
On one of the main streets of the city there was such a dense throng
of people that the police had to open a way for the heir and his
retinue. But these people did not greet the prince; they had merely
gathered around a small palace as if waiting for some person.
What is this? asked Ramses of the nomarch, for this indifference
of the throng touched the prince disagreeably.
Here dwells Hiram, answered the nomarch, a prince of Tyre, a man
of great charity. Every day he distributes bountiful alms, therefore
poor people rush to him.
Ramses turned on his horse, looked, and said,
I see there laborers of the pharaoh. So they too go for alms to the
rich Phoenician?
The nomarch was silent. Happily they approached the official palace,
and the prince forgot Hiram.
Feasts in honor of the viceroy continued a number of days in
succession, but they did not please him. Gladness was lacking and
disagreeable incidents happened.
One day a favorite of the prince was dancing before him; she burst
into tears. Ramses seized her in his arms, and asked what her trouble
was.
At first she hesitated, but emboldened by the kindness of her lord,
she answered, shedding tears in still greater abundance,
We are thy women, O ruler, we come from great families, and respect
is due to us.
Thou speakest truth, said Ramses.
Meanwhile thy treasurer stints us in allowance, and would deprive
us of serving-maids, without whom we cannot bathe or dress our hair.
Ramses summoned his treasurer, and commanded sternly that his women
should have all that belonged to their birth and position. The
treasurer fell on his face before the prince, and promised to carry out
all commands of the women. A couple of days later, a rebellion broke
out among the court slaves, who complained that their wine had been
taken. The heir ordered to give them wine. But during a review two days
later a deputation from the regiments came to the viceroy with a most
humble complaint, that their rations of meat and bread were diminished.
The prince commanded that those petitioners be satisfied.
Still, two days later a great uproar at the palace roused him in the
morning. Ramses inquired what the cause was; the officer on duty
explained that the pharaoh's laborers had assembled and asked for
arrears due them.
They summoned the treasurer, whom the prince attacked in great
anger.
What is going on here? cried he. Since my return there is no day
without complaints of injustice. If anything like this is repeated, I
shall order an inquiry and put an end to thy management.
The trembling treasurer fell on his face again, and groaned,
Slay me, lord! But what am I to do when thy treasury, thy
granaries, and thy storehouses are empty?
In spite of his anger the prince thought that the treasurer might be
innocent. He commanded him to withdraw, and then summoned Tutmosis.
Listen to me, said Ramses to the favorite, things are done here
which I do not understand, and to which I am not accustomed. My women,
the slaves, the army, the pharaoh's workmen do not receive what is due
them, or their supplies are curtailed. When I asked the treasurer what
this means, he answered that the treasury and the storehouses are
empty.
He told truth.
How is that? burst out the prince. For my journey his holiness
assigned two hundred talents in gold and goods. Can it be that all this
is expended?
Yes, answered Tutmosis.
How is that? cried the viceroy. Did not the nomarchs entertain us
all the way?
Yes, but we paid them for doing so.
Then they are rogues and robbers if they receive us as guests and
then plunder us.
Be not angry, and I will explain.
Sit down.
Tutmosis took a seat.
Dost Thou know, asked he, that for a month past I have eaten food
from thy kitchen, drunk wine from thy pitchers, and dressed from thy
wardrobe?
Thou hast a right to that privilege.
But I have never acted thus hitherto. I have lived, dressed, and
amused myself at my own expense, so as not to burden thy treasury. It
is true that Thou hast paid my debts more than once, but that was only
a part of my outlay.
Never mind the debts!
In a similar condition, continued Tutmosis, are some tens of
noble youths of thy court. They maintained themselves so as to uphold
the splendor of the government; but now, like myself, they live at thy
expense, for they have nothing to pay with.
Sometime I will reward them.
Now, continued Tutmosis, we take from thy treasury, for want is
oppressing us; the nomarchs do the same. If they had means they would
give feasts and receptions at their own cost; but as they have not the
means they receive recompense. Wilt Thou call them rogues now?
I condemned them too harshly. Anger, like smoke, covered my eyes,
said Ramses. I am ashamed of my words; none the less I wish that
neither courtiers, soldiers, nor working men should suffer injustice.
But since my means are exhausted it will be necessary to borrow. Would
a hundred talents suffice? What thinkest thou?
I think that no one would lend us a hundred talents, whispered
Tutmosis.
The viceroy looked at him haughtily.
Is that a fit answer to the son of a pharaoh? asked he.
Dismiss me from thy presence, said Tutmosis, sadly, but I have
told the truth. At present no one will make us a loan, for there is no
one to do so.
What is Dagon for? wondered the prince. He is not near my court;
is he dead?
Dagon is in Pi-Bast, but he spends whole days with other Phoenician
merchants in the temple of Astarte in prayer and penance.
Why such devotion? Is it because that I was in a temple that my
banker thinks he too should take counsel of the gods?
Tutmosis turned on the stool.
The Phoenicians, said he, are alarmed; they are even crushed by
the news.
About what?
Some one has spread the report, worthiness, that when Thou shalt
mount the throne all Phoenicians will be expelled and their property
confiscated.
Well, they have time enough before that, laughed Ramses.
Tutmosis hesitated further. They say, continued he, in a lowered
voice, that in recent days the health of his holiness may he live
through eternity! has failed notably.
That is untrue! interrupted the prince, in alarm. I should know
of it.
But the priests are performing religious services in secret for the
return of health to the pharaoh. I know this to a certainty.''
The prince was astonished.
How! my father seriously ill, the priests are praying for him, but
tell me nothing?
They say that the illness of his holiness may last a year.
Oh, Thou hearest fables and art disturbing me. Better tell me about
the Phoenicians.
I have heard, said Tutmosis, only what every one has heard, that
while in the temple Thou wert convinced of the harm done by
Phoenicians, and didst bind thyself to expel them.
In the temple? repeated the heir. But who knows what that is of
which I convinced myself in the temple, and what I decided to do?
Tutmosis shrugged his shoulders, and was silent.
Was there treason, too, in the temple? thought the prince. Summon
Dagon in every case, said he, aloud. I must know the source of these
lies, and by the gods, I will end them.
Thou wilt do well, for all Egypt is frightened. Even today there is
no one to lend money, and if those reports continue all commerce will
cease. Our aristocracy have fallen into trouble from which none see the
issue, and even thy court is in want. A month hence the same thing may
happen in the palace of his holiness.
Silence! interrupted the prince, and call Dagon this moment.
Tutmosis ran out, but the banker appeared no earlier than evening.
Around a white mantle he wore a black belt.
Hast Thou gone mad? cried the heir, at sight of this. I will
drive off thy sadness immediately. I need a hundred talents at once.
Go, and show thyself not till Thou bring them.
The banker covered his face and wept.
What does this mean? asked the prince, quickly.
Lord, exclaimed Dagon, as he fell on his knees, seize all my
property, sell me and my family. Take everything, even our lives but a
hundred talents where could I find wealth like that? Neither in Egypt
nor Phoenicia, continued he, sobbing.
Set has seized thee, O Dagon, laughed the heir. Couldst Thou
believe that I thought of expelling thy Phoenicians?
The banker fell at the prince's feet a second time.
I know nothing I am a common merchant, and thy slave as many days
as there are between the new and the full moon would suffice to make
dust of me and spittle of my property.
But explain what this means, said the prince, again impatient.
I cannot explain anything, and even were I able I have a great seal
on my lips. I do nothing now but pray and lament.
Do the Phoenicians pray also? thought the prince.
Unable to render any service, continued Dagon, I will give good
counsel at least. There is here in Pi-Bast a renowned Syrian, Prince
Hiram, an old man, wise and tremendously wealthy. Summon him, Erpatr,
ask of him a hundred talents; perhaps he will be able to gratify thee.
Since Ramses could get no explanations from the banker, he dismissed
him, and promised to send an embassy to Hiram.
CHAPTER XXX
NEXT day Tutmosis, with a great suite of officers and attendants,
paid a visit to the Phoenician prince, and invited him to the viceroy.
In the afternoon Hiram appeared before the palace in a simple litter
borne by eight poor Egyptians to whom he gave alms. He was surrounded
by the most notable Phoenician merchants, and that same throng of
people who stood before his house daily.
Ramses greeted with a certain astonishment the old man out of whose
eyes wisdom was gazing and in whose whole bearing there was dignity. He
bowed gravely before the viceroy, and raising his hands above his head,
pronounced a short blessing. Those present were deeply affected.
When the viceroy indicated an armchair and commanded his courtiers
to withdraw, Hiram said,
Yesterday thy servant Dagon informed me that the prince needs a
hundred talents. I sent out my couriers at once to Sabne-Chetam,
Sethroe, Pi-Uto, and other cities where there are Phoenician ships,
asking them to land all their goods. I think that in a day or two Thou
wilt receive this small sum.
Small! interrupted Ramses, with a smile. Thou art happy if Thou
call a hundred talents a small sum.
Hiram nodded.
Thy grandfather, worthiness, said he, after a while, the
eternally living Ramses-sa-Ptah, honored me with his friendship; I know
also his holiness, thy father may he live through eternity! and I will
even try to lay before him my homage, if I be permitted.
Whence could a doubt arise? interrupted the prince.
There are persons, replied the guest, who admit some to the face
of the pharaoh and refuse others but never mind them. Thou art not to
blame for this; hence I venture to lay before thee one question, as an
old friend of thy father and his father.
I am listening.
What means it, asked Hiram, slowly, that the heir to the throne
and a viceroy must borrow a hundred talents when more than a hundred
thousand are due Egypt?
Whence? cried Ramses.
From the tribute of Asiatic peoples. Phoenicia owes five thousand;
well, Phoenicia will pay, I guarantee that, unless some events happen.
But, besides, Israel owes three thousand, the Philistines and the
Moabites each two thousand, the Hittites thirty thousand. Finally, I do
not remember details, but I know that the total reaches a hundred and
three or a hundred and five thousand talents.
Ramses gnawed his lips, but on his vivacious countenance helpless
anger was evident. He dropped his eyes and was silent.
It is true, said Hiram, on a sudden, and looking sharply at the
viceroy. Poor Phoenicia but also Egypt.
What dost Thou say? asked the prince, frowning. I understand not
thy questions.
Prince, Thou knowest what it is of which I speak, since Thou dost
not answer my question, replied Hiram; and he rose as if to withdraw.
Still, I withdraw not my promise. Thou wilt receive a hundred
talents.
He made a low bow, but the viceroy forced him to sit down again.
Thou art hiding something, said Ramses, in a voice in which
offence was evident. I would hear thee explain what danger threatens
Egypt or Phoenicia.
Hast Thou not heard? asked Hiram, with hesitation.
I know nothing. I have passed more than a month in the temple.
That is just the place in which to learn everything.
Tell me, worthiness, said the viceroy, striking the table with his
fist. I am not pleased when men are amused at my expense.
Give a great promise not to betray me to any one and I will tell,
though I cannot believe that they have not informed the heir of this.
Dost Thou not trust me? asked the astonished prince.
In this affair I should require a promise from the pharaoh
himself, answered Hiram, with decision.
If I swear on my sword, and the standards of my troops, that I will
tell no man.
Enough, said Hiram.
I am listening.
Does the prince know what is happening at this moment in
Phoenicia?
I know nothing of that, even, interrupted the irritated viceroy.
Our ships, whispered Hiram, are coming home from all parts of the
earth to convey at the first signal our people and treasures to some
place beyond the sea to the west.
Why? asked the astounded viceroy.
Because Assyria is to take us under her dominion.
Thou hast gone mad, worthy man! exclaimed Ramses. Assyria to take
Phoenicia! But we? Egypt what would we say to that?
Egypt has consented already.
Blood rushed to the prince's head.
The heat has disturbed thy mind, aged man, said he, in a calm
voice. Thou hast forgotten, even, that such an affair could not take
place without the pharaoh's permission and mine.
That will follow. Meanwhile the priests have concluded a treaty.
With whom? What priests?
With Beroes, the high priest of Chaldea, at commission of King
Assar, said Hiram. And who from your side? I will not state to a
certainty. But it seems to me that his worthiness Herhor, his
worthiness Mefres, and the holy prophet Pentuer.
The prince became pale.
Consider, Phoenician, said he, that Thou art accusing of treason
the highest dignitaries of Egypt.
Thou art mistaken, prince, this is no treason: the high priest of
Egypt and the minister of his holiness have the right to make treaties
with neighboring states. Besides, how dost Thou know, worthiness, that
all this is not done with consent of the pharaoh?
Ramses was obliged to confess in his soul that such a treaty would
not be treason, but disregard toward him, the erpatr.
So then the priests treated him in this way, him who might be the
pharaoh a year hence? That is why Pentuer criticized war, and Mefres
supported him.
When could that have happened, and where? asked the prince.
Very likely they concluded the treaty at night in the temple of Set
at Memphis, answered Hiram. And when? I know not exactly, but it
seems to me that it took place when Thou wert setting out from
Memphis.
The wretches! thought the viceroy. That is how they respect my
position! Some kind god made me doubt in the temple of Hator.
After a time of internal conflict he added,
Impossible! I shall not believe till proof be given.
Proof there will be, replied Hiram. One of these days a great
lord will come to Pi-Bast from Assyria, Sargon, the friend of King
Assar. He will come under pretext of a pilgrimage to the temple of
Astaroth, he will bring gifts to thee and to his holiness; then he will
make a treaty. Ye will in fact put seals to that which the priests have
determined to the ruin of Phoenicia, and perhaps to your own great
misfortune.
Never! What return could Assyria give Egypt?
That speech is worthy of a pharaoh. What return would Egypt get?
Every treaty is good for a state if only something be gained through
it. I am astonished specially by this, continued Hiram, that Egypt
should conclude a bad transaction: besides Phoenicia, Assyria will take
almost all Asia, and to you will be left, in the form of a favor, the
Israelites, the Philistines, and the peninsula of Sinai. In that case
the tributes belonging to Egypt will be lost, and the pharaoh will
never receive those hundred and five thousand talents.
The viceroy shook his head.
Thou dost not know Egyptian priests, said he; not one of them
would accept such a treaty.
Why not? The Phoenician proverb says: 'Better barley in the granary
than gold in the desert.' Should Egypt feel very weak she might prefer
Sinai and Palestine to a war with Assyria. But this is what sets me to
thinking: Not Egypt, but Assyria, is easy to conquer. Assyria has a
quarrel on the northwest; Assyria has few troops, and those of poor
quality. Were Egypt to attack she would destroy Assyria, seize immense
treasures in Babylon and Nineveh, and establish her authority in Asia
at once and securely.
Such a treaty cannot exist, as Thou seest, interrupted Ramses.
In one case alone could I understand such a treaty, continued
Hiram. If 'tis the plan of the priests to set aside kingly power in
Egypt; and toward this, O prince, they have been striving since the
days of thy grandfather.
Thou art speaking aside from the question, said Ramses, but he
felt alarm in his heart.
Perhaps I am mistaken, answered Hiram, looking into his eyes
quickly. But hear me out, worthiness.
He moved up his armchair to the prince, and said in a lowered voice,
If the pharaoh should make war on Assyria, he would have a great
army attached to his person; a hundred thousand talents of tribute in
arrears, about two hundred thousand talents from Nineveh and Babylon,
finally about a hundred thousand talents yearly from conquered
countries. Such immense wealth would enable him to redeem the property
mortgaged to the priests, and put an end at once and forever to their
meddling.
The prince's eyes glittered, and Hiram continued,
Today the army depends on Herhor, and therefore on the priests;
remove the foreign regiments, and the pharaoh, in case of war, could
not depend on his warriors.
Besides, the royal treasury is empty, and the greater part of the
pharaoh's property belongs to the temples. He must contract new debts
yearly even to maintain his household; and since there will be no
Phoenicians among you, ye must borrow of the temples. In this way, when
ten years have passed, his holiness may he live through eternity! will
lose what is left of his property, and then what?
On the forehead of Ramses perspiration came out in drops.
Thou seest then, worthy lord, continued Hiram, the priests might
and even would be forced in one case to accept the most disgraceful
treaty with Assyria: if they are working to lower and destroy the power
of the pharaoh well, there may be another case: if Egypt were so weak
as to need peace at any price.
The prince sprang up.
Silence! cried he. I should prefer treason on the part of my most
faithful servants, to such weakness in the country. Egypt yield to
Assyria why, a year later Egypt herself would fall under the yoke of
Assyria, for by subscribing to such infamy she would confess her own
helplessness.
He walked up and down the room, with indignation, while Hiram looked
at him with compassion or with sympathy.
All at once Ramses halted before the Phoenician,
This is false! Some adroit villain has deceived thee, O Hiram, with
the semblance of truth, and Thou hast believed him. If such a treaty
existed, they would have kept it in the closest secrecy. In the present
case one of the four priests whom Thou hast mentioned is a traitor, not
only to his own sovereign, but to his co-conspirators.
There might have been some fifth man who overheard them,
interrupted Hiram.
And who sold the secret to thee?
It is a wonder to me, said Hiram, that the prince has not
discovered the power of gold.
But stop, worthiness, our priests have more gold than thou, though
Thou art wealthy beyond the wealthy!
Still I am not angry when a drachma comes to me. Why should others
refuse a talent?
They would because they are servants of the gods, said the prince,
passionately; they would fear divine punishment.
The Phoenician laughed.
I have seen, said he, many temples of various nations, and in
those temples great and small statues, of wood, stone, and gold even.
But gods I have never met.
Blasphemer! exclaimed Ramses. I have seen a divinity, I have felt
its hand on my person, I have heard its voice.
In what place?
In the temple of Hator, in its hall of entrance, and in my cell.
In the daytime?
In the night, replied the prince; and he stopped.
At night the prince heard speeches of the gods, and felt their
hands, replied the Phoenician, emphasizing word after word. At night
it is possible to see many things. What happened?
In the temple I was seized by the head, by the shoulders, by the
legs; and I swear
Phst! interrupted Hiram, with a smile. It is not proper to swear
in vain.
He looked fixedly at Ramses with his quick and wise eyes, and seeing
that doubt was rising in the young man, he continued,
I will tell thee something, lord. Thou art inexperienced, though
surrounded by a net of intrigues, but I have been the friend of thy
grandfather and thy father. Now I will render thee a service: Come in
the night to the temple of Astaroth, but bind thyself to keep the
secret. Come alone, and Thou wilt be convinced as to who the gods are
who speak in the temples and touch us.
I will come, said Ramses, after some meditation.
Forewarn me, prince, on the morning of the day, and I will give
thee the evening password; Thou wilt be admitted. Only betray neither
me nor thyself, said the Phoenician, with a kindly smile. Men never
pardon betrayal of their secrets, though gods pardon sometimes. He
bowed, raised his eyes and hands, while he whispered a blessing.
Deceivers! cried the prince. Thou prayest to gods, and dost not
believe in them.
Hiram finished the blessing, and said,
It is true that I have no belief in Egyptian or Assyrian, or even
in Phoenician gods, but I believe in One who dwells not in temples and
whose name is unknown to us.
Our priests believe also in One, said Ramses.
So do the Chaldeans, but they and your priests have conspired
against us. There is no truth in this world, prince.
After Hiram's departure the heir shut himself up in the most remote
chamber under pretext of reading sacred papyruses.
Almost in the twinkle of an eye the information received recently
arranged itself in the fiery imagination of Ramses, and he formed a
plan. First of all, he understood that a secret battle for life and
death was raging between the priests and the Phoenicians. About what?
Naturally about wealth and influence. Hiram said truly, that should the
Phoenicians be expelled from Egypt, all the estates of the pharaoh, and
even of the nomarchs and the entire aristocracy, would pass into
possession of the temples.
Ramses had never liked the priests, and he had known and seen for a
long time that the greater part of Egypt belonged to them, that their
cities were the richest, their fields the best tilled, their people
satisfied. He understood too that one-half the treasures which belonged
to the temples would suffice to rescue the pharaoh from ceaseless
troubles and give back power to him.
The prince knew this, and more than once he had said so with
bitterness. But when through the influence of Herhor he became viceroy
and received the corps in Memphis, he grew reconciled with the priests
and stifled his previous dislike of them.
All that dislike had revived again.
Not only had the priests not told him of their negotiations with
Assyria, they had not even forewarned him of the embassy of Sargon.
This question might indeed be the great secret of the state and the
temples. But why did they conceal the amount of tributes from various
Asiatic nations, unpaid thus far? One hundred thousand talents why,
that was a sum which might restore immediately the financial status of
the pharaoh! Why had they concealed from him that which even a prince
of Tyre knew, a man who was of the council in that city .'
What a shame for him, the heir to the throne, and the viceroy, that
his eyes were first opened by foreigners! But there was something worse
still: Pentuer and Mef res had proved to him in every way that Egypt
must avoid war. In the temple of Hator that emphasis had seemed to him
suspicious, since a war might obtain for the state thousands of legions
of slaves, and raise the general prosperity of the country. Today this
seemed the more necessary since Egypt ought to receive unpaid sums and
gain still more tribute.
The prince rested his arms on the table and calculated,
We, thought he, should receive a hundred thousand talents. Hiram
calculates that the plunder of Nineveh and Babylon would give about two
hundred thousand; together, three hundred thousand. With such a sum we
might cover the cost of the mightiest war, and there would remain
besides several hundred thousand as profit, and captives and a hundred
thousand yearly tribute from newly conquered regions. After that,
concluded the prince, we could reckon with the priesthood!
Ramses was excited. Still reflection came to him,
But if Egypt was unable to wage a victorious war against Assyria?
His blood boiled at this question. How Egypt? Why should Egypt not
trample Assyria, when he appeared at the head of its armies, he a
descendant of Ramses the Great, who had hurled himself single-handed on
the Hittite war chariots and scattered them.
The prince could understand everything save this, that man might
conquer him and that he could not snatch victory from the greatest
enemy. He felt in himself endless daring, and he would have been
astounded if any enemy whatever had not fled at sight of his steeds in
full onrush. Did not the gods themselves stand on the war-chariot of
the pharaoh to defend his shield and smite with heavenly bolts his
enemies?
But what did this Hiram say to me about gods? thought the prince.
And what will he show me in the temple of Astaroth? We shall see.
CHAPTER XXXI
THE old man kept his promise. Every day to the prince's palace in
Pi- Bast came crowds of slaves and long rows of asses bearing wheat,
barley, dried meat, woven stuffs, and wine. Phoenician merchants
brought gold and precious stones under inspection of Hiram's
assistants.
In this manner the heir received in the course of five days the
hundred talents promised. Hiram accounted a lower per cent to himself,
one talent for four, in a year. He asked no pledge, but was satisfied
with the receipt of the prince, certified before a tribunal.
The needs of the court were satisfied bountifully. Three favorites
of the viceroy received new robes, a number of special perfumes, and
female slaves of various colors. The servants had abundance of food and
wine, the pharaoh's laborers received arrears of pay, unusual rations
were issued to the army.
The court was delighted, the more since Tutmosis and other noble
youths, at the command of Hiram, received rather large loans, while the
nomarch of Habu and his higher officials received costly presents.
So feast followed feast and amusement amusement, though the heat
increased always. Seeing this general delight, the viceroy was
satisfied. He was troubled, however, by the bearing of Mefres and other
priests. Ramses thought that those dignitaries would reproach him for
having become so indebted to Hiram in spite of those lessons which he
had received in the temple. Meanwhile the holy fathers were silent and
did not even show themselves.
What does this mean? asked the prince one day of Tutmosis; the
priests do not reproach us? We have never indulged in such excesses
before. Music is sounding from morning till evening; we drink,
beginning with sunrise, and we fall asleep with women in our arms or
pitchers at our heads.
Why should they reproach us? answered the indignant Tutmosis. Are
we not sojourning in the city of Astarte, [Astaroth] for whom amusement
is the most pleasing service, and love the most coveted sacrifice?
Moreover the priests understand that after such privations and fasts
rest is due thee.
Have they said anything? asked the prince, with disquiet.
Yes, more than once. Only yesterday the holy Mefres smiled, and
said that amusement attracted a young man like thee more than religion
or the labor of ruling a state.
Ramses fell to thinking,
So the priests looked on him as a frivolous stripling, though he,
thanks to Sarah, would become a father today or to-morrow. But they
would have a surprise when he spoke to them in his own manner.
In truth the prince reproached himself somewhat. From the time that
he left the temple of Hator he had not occupied himself one day with
the affairs of Habu. The priests might suppose that he was either
entirely satisfied with Pentuer's explanations, or that he was tired of
interfering in government.
So much the better! whispered he. So much the better!
Under the influence of the endless intrigues of those around him, or
suspicious of those intrigues, the instinct to deceive began in his
young spirit to rouse itself. Ramses felt that the priests did not
divine the subject of his conversation with Hiram, nor the plans which
were forming in his head. It sufficed those blinded persons, that he
was amusing himself; from this they inferred that the management of the
state would remain in their hands forever.
Have the gods so darkened their minds, thought Ramses, that they
do not even ask themselves why Hiram gave me a loan so considerable?
And perhaps that crafty Tyrian has been able to lull their suspicious
hearts? So much the better! So much the better!
He had a marvelously agreeable feeling when he thought that the
priests had blundered. He determined to keep them in that blunder for
the future; hence he amused himself madly.
Indeed the priests were mistaken, both in Ramses and Hiram. The
artful Tyrian gave himself out before them as very proud of his
relations with Ramses, and the prince with no less success played the
role of a riotous stripling.
Mefres was even convinced that the prince was thinking seriously of
expelling the Phoenicians, that meanwhile he and his courtiers were
contracting debts and would never pay them.
But the temple of Astaroth with its numerous courts and gardens was
filled with devotees all the time. Every day, if not every hour, though
the heat was excessive, some company of pilgrims to the great goddess
arrived from the depth of Asia.
Those were strange pilgrims. Wearied, streaming with perspiration,
covered with dust, they advanced with music, and dancing, and songs
sometimes of a very lewd character. The day passed for them in
unbridled license in honor of the goddess. It was possible not only to
recognize every such company from afar, but to catch its odor, since
those people always brought immense bouquets of fresh flowers in their
hands, and in bundles all the male cats that had died in the course of
the current year. The devotees gave these cats to dissectors in Pi-Bast
to be stuffed or embalmed, and bore them home later on as valued
relics.
On the first day of the month Mesori (May-June), Prince Hiram
informed Ramses that he might appear at the temple of Astaroth that
evening. When it had grown dark on the streets after sunset, the
viceroy girded a short sword to his side, put on a mantle with a hood,
and unobserved by any servant, slipped away to the house of Hiram.
The old magnate was waiting for the viceroy.
Well, said he, with a smile, art Thou not afraid, prince, to
enter a Phoenician temple where cruelty sits on the altar and
perversity ministers?
Fear? repeated Ramses, looking at him almost contemptuously.
Astaroth is not Baal, nor am I a child which they might throw into
your god's red-hot belly.
But does the prince believe this story?
Ramses shrugged his shoulders.
An eyewitness and a trustworthy person, answered he, told me how
ye sacrifice children. Once a storm wrecked a number of tens of your
vessels. Immediately the Tyrian priests announced a religious ceremony
at which throngs of people collected. The prince spoke with evident
indignation. Before the temple of Baal situated on a lofty place was
an immense bronze statue with the head of a bull. Its belly was red
hot. At command of your priests the foolish Phoenician mothers put
their most beautiful children at the feet of this cruel divinity.
Only boys, interrupted Hiram.
Only boys, continued Ramses. The priests sprinkled each boy with
perfumes, decked him with flowers, and then the statue seized him with
bronze hands, opened its jaws, and devoured the child, whose screams
meanwhile were heaven piercing. Flames burst each time from the mouth
of the deity.
Hiram laughed in silence.
And dost Thou believe this, worthiness?
I repeat what a man told me who has never lied.
He told what he saw. But did it not surprise him that no mother
whose children they burned was weeping?
He was astonished, indeed, at such indifference in women, since
they are always ready to shed tears even over a dead hen. But it shows
great cruelty in your people.
The old Phoenician nodded.
Was that long ago? asked he.
A few years.
Well, said Hiram, deliberately, shouldst Thou wish to visit Tyre
some day, I shall have the honor to show thee a solemnity like that
one.
I have no wish to see it.
After the ceremony we shall go to another court of the temple,
where the prince will see a very fine school, and in it, healthy and
gladsome, those very same boys who were burnt a few years ago.
How is that? exclaimed Ramses; then did they not perish?
They are living, and growing up to be sturdy mariners. When Thou
shalt be pharaoh, mayst Thou live through eternity! perhaps more than
one of them will be sailing thy ships.
Then ye deceive your people? laughed the prince.
We deceive no one, answered the Tyrian, with dignity. Each man
deceives himself when he does not seek the explanation of a solemnity
which he does not understand.
I am curious, said Ramses.
In fact, continued Hiram, we have a custom that indigent mothers
wishing to assure their sons a good career give them to the service of
the state. In reality, those children are taken across the statue of
Baal, in which there is a heated stove. This ceremony does not mean
that the children are really burnt, but that they have been given to
the temple, and so are as much lost to their mothers as if they had
fallen into fire.
In truth, however, they do not go to the stove, but to nurses and
women who rear them for some years. When they have grown up
sufficiently, the school of priests of Baal receives and educates them.
The most competent become priests or officials; the less gifted go to
the navy and obtain great wealth frequently. Now I think the prince
will not wonder that Tyrian mothers do not mourn for their children. I
will say more: Thou wilt understand, lord, why there is no punishment
for parents who kill their children, as there is in Egypt.
Wretches are found in all lands, replied the prince.
But there is no child murder in our country, continued Hiram, for
with us children, when their mothers are unable to support them, are
taken to the temple by the state.
The prince fell to thinking; suddenly he embraced Hiram, and said
with emotion,
Ye are much better than those who tell tales of you. I am greatly
rejoiced at this.
Among us, too, there is no little evil, answered Hiram; but we
are all ready to be thy faithful servants shouldst Thou call us.
Is this true? asked the prince, looking him in the eyes.
The old man put his hand on his heart.
I swear to thee, O heir to the throne of Egypt and future pharaoh,
that if Thou begin at any time a struggle with our common enemy,
Phoenicia will hasten as one man to assist thee. But receive this as a
reminder of our conversation.
He drew from beneath his robe a gold medal covered with mysterious
characters, and, muttering a prayer, hung it on the neck of Prince
Ramses.
With this amulet, continued Hiram, Thou mayst travel the whole
world through, and if Thou meet a Phoenician he will serve thee with
advice, with gold, with his sword even. But now let us go.
Some hours had passed since sunset, but the night was clear, for the
moon had risen. The terrible heat of the day had yielded to coolness.
In the pure air was floating no longer that gray dust which bit the
eyes and poisoned respiration. In the blue sky here and there twinkled
stars which were lost in the deluge of moonbeams.
Movement had stopped on the streets, but the roofs of all the houses
were filled with people occupied in amusement. Pi-Bast seemed from edge
to edge to be one hall filled with music, singing, laughter, and the
sound of goblets.
The prince and the Phoenician went speedily to the suburbs, choosing
the less lighted sides of the streets. Still, people feasting on
terraces saw them at intervals, and invited them up, or cast flowers
down on their heads.
Hei, ye strollers! cried they, from the roofs. If ye are not
thieves called out by the night to snatch booty, come hither, come up
to us. We have good wine and gladsome women.
The two wanderers made no answer to those hospitable invitations;
they hurried on in their own way. At last they came to a quarter where
the houses were fewer, the gardens more frequent, the trees, thanks to
damp sea-breezes, more luxuriant and higher than in the southern
provinces of Egypt.
It is not far now, said Hiram.
The prince raised his eyes, and over the dense green of trees he saw
a square tower of blue color; on it a more slender tower, which was
white. This was the temple of Astaroth. Soon they entered the garden,
whence they could take in at a glance the whole building.
It was composed of a number of stories. The top of the lowest was a
square platform with sides four hundred yards long; its walls were a
few meters high, and all of black color. At the eastern side was a
projection to which came two wide stairways. Along the other three
sides of this first story were small towers, ten on each side; between
each pair of towers were five windows.
More or less in the centre of this lowest platform rose a
quadrangular building with sides two hundred yards long. This had a
single stairway, towers at the comers, and was purple. On the top of
this building was another of golden color, and above it, one upon the
other, two towers one blue, the other white.
The whole building looked as if some power had placed on the earth
one enormous black dice, on it a smaller one of purple, on that a
golden one, on that a blue, and, highest of all, a silver dice. To each
of these elevations stairs led, either double flights along the sides
or single front stairs, always on the eastern walls.
At the sides of the stairs and doors stood, alternately, great
Egyptian sphinxes, or winged Assyrian human-headed bulls.
The viceroy looked with delight at this edifice, which in the
moonlight and against the background of rich vegetation had an aspect
of marvelous beauty. It was built in Chaldean style, and differed
essentially from the temples of Egypt, first, by the system of stories,
second, by the perpendicular walls.
Among the Egyptians every great building had sloping sides receding
inward as they rose.
The garden was not empty. At various points small villas and houses
were visible, lights were flashing, songs and music were heard. From
time to time among trees appeared shadows of loving couples.
All at once an old priest approached them, exchanged a few words
with Hiram, and said to the prince with a low obeisance,
Be pleased, lord, to come with me.
And may the gods watch over thee, worthiness, added Hiram, as he
left him.
Ramses followed the priest. Somewhat aside from the temple, in the
thickest of the grove, was a stone bench, and perhaps a hundred rods
from it a villa of no great size at which was heard singing.
Are people praying there? asked the prince.
No, answered the priest, without concealing his dislike; at that
house assemble the worshippers of Kama, our priestess who guards the
fire before the altar of Astaroth.
Whom does she receive today?
No one at any time, answered the guide, offended. Were the
priestess of the fire not to observe her vow of chastity she would have
to die.
A cruel law, observed Ramses.
Be pleased, lord, to wait at this bench, said the Phoenician
priest, coldly; but on hearing three blows against the bronze plate,
go to the temple, ascend to the first platform, and thence to the
purple story.
Alone?
Yes.
The prince sat down on the bench, in the shadow of an olive tree,
and heard the laughter of women in the villa.
Kama, thought he, is a pretty name. She must be young, and
perhaps beautiful, and those dull Phoenicians threaten her with death.
Do they wish in this way to assure themselves even a few virgins in the
whole country?
He laughed, but was sad. It was uncertain why he pitied that unknown
woman for whom love would be a passage to the grave.
I can imagine to myself Tutmosis if he were appointed priestess of
Astaroth, thought Ramses. He would have to die, poor fellow, before
he could light one lamp before the face of the goddess.
At that moment a flute was heard in the villa, and some one played a
plaintive air, which was accompanied by female singers, Aha-a! aha-a!
as in the lullaby of infants.
The flute stopped, the women were silent, and a splendid male voice
was heard, in the Greek language:
When thy robe gleams on the terrace, the stars pale and the
nightingales cease to sing, but in my heart there is stillness like
that which is on earth when the clear dawn salutes it.
Aha-a! aha-a! continued the women. The flute played again.
When Thou goest to the temple, violets surround thee in a cloud of
fragrance, butterflies circle near thy lips, palms bend their heads to
thy beauty.
aha-a! aha-a!
When Thou art not before me, I look to the skies to recall the
sweet calm of thy features. Vain labor! The heavens have no calm like
thine, and their heat is cold when compared with the flame which is
turning my heart into ashes.
Aha-a! aha-a!
One day I stood among roses, which the gleam of thy glances clothe
in white, gold, and scarlet. Each leaf of them reminded me of one hour,
each blossom of one month passed at thy feet. The drops of dew are my
tears, which are drunk by the merciless wind of the desert.
Give a sign; I will seize thee, I will bear thee away to my
birthplace, beloved. The sea will divide us from pursuers, myrtle
groves will conceal our fondling, and gods, more compassionate toward
lovers, will watch over our happiness.
Aha-a! aha-a!
The prince dropped his eyelids and imagined. Through his drooping
lashes he could not see the garden, he saw only the flood of moonlight
in which were mingled shadows and the song of the unknown man to the
unknown woman. At instants that song seized him to such a degree, and
forced itself into his spirit so deeply, that Ramses wished to ask: Am
I not the singer myself? nay, am I not that love song?
At this moment his title, his power, the burdensome problems of
state, all seemed to him mean, insignificant in comparison with that
moonlight and those calls of a heart which is enamored. If the choice
had been given him to take the whole power of the pharaoh, or that
spiritual condition in which he then found himself, he would have
preferred that dreaming, in which the whole world, he himself, even
time, disappeared, leaving nothing behind but desire, which was now
rushing forth to infinity borne on the wings of song and of music.
Meanwhile the prince recovered, the song had ended, the lights in
the villa had vanished, the white walls, the dark vacant windows were
sharply outlined. One might have thought that no person had ever been
in that house there. The garden was deserted and silent, even the
slight breath of air stirred the leaves no longer.
One! two! three! From the temple were heard three mighty sounds from
bronze.
Ah! I must go, thought the prince, not knowing well whither he was
to go or for what purpose.
He turned, however, in the direction of the temple, the silver tower
of which rose above the trees as if summoning him.
He went as in a trance, filled with strange wishes. Among the trees
it was narrow for him; he wished to ascend to the top of that tower, to
draw breath, to take in with his glance some wider horizon. Again he
remembered that it was the month Mesori, that a year had passed since
the maneuvers; he felt a yearning for the desert. How gladly would he
mount his light chariot drawn by two horses, and fly away to some place
where it was not so stifling, and trees did not hide the horizon!
He was at the steps of the temple, so he mounted to the platform. It
was quiet and empty there, as if all had died; but from afar the water
of a fountain was murmuring. At the second stairway he threw aside his
burnous and sword; once more he looked at the garden, as if he were
sorry to leave the moonlight behind, and entered the temple. There were
three stories above him.
The bronze doors were open; at both sides of the entrance stood
winged figures of bulls with human heads; on the faces of these was
dignified calmness.
Those are kings of Assyria, thought the prince, looking at their
beards plaited in tiny tresses.
The interior of the temple was as black as night when 't is
blackest. The darkness was intensified more by white streaks of
moonlight falling in through narrow high windows.
In the depth of the temple two lamps were burning before the statue
of Astaroth. Some strange illumination from above caused the statue to
be perfectly visible. Ramses gazed at it. That was a gigantic woman
with the wings of an ostrich. She wore a long robe in folds; on her
head was a pointed cap, in her right hand she held a pair of doves. On
her beautiful face and in her downcast eyes was an expression of such
sweetness and innocence that astonishment seized the prince, for she
was the patroness of revenge and of license the most unbridled.
Phoenicia has shown me one more of her secrets. A strange people,
thought Ramses. Their man-eating gods do not eat, and their lewdness
is guarded by virgin priestesses and by a goddess with an innocent
face.
Thereupon he felt that something had slipped across his feet
quickly, as it were a great serpent. Ramses drew back and stood in the
streak of moonlight.
A vision! said he to himself.
Almost at that moment he heard a whisper,
Ramses! Ramses!
It was impossible to discover whether that was a man's or a woman's
voice, or whence it issued.
Ramses! Ramses! was heard a whisper, as if from the ceiling.
The prince went to an un-illuminated place and, while looking, bent
down.
All at once he felt two delicate hands on his head.
He sprang up to grasp them, but caught only air.
Ramses! was whispered from above.
He raised his head, and felt on his lips a lotus flower; and when he
stretched his hands to it some one leaned on his arm lightly.
Ramses! called a voice from the altar.
The prince turned and was astounded. In the streak of light, a
couple of steps distant, stood a most beautiful man, absolutely like
the heir to the throne of Egypt. The same face, eyes, youthful stature,
the same posture, movements, and dress.
The prince thought for a while that he was before some great mirror,
such a mirror as even the pharaoh could not have. But soon he convinced
himself that his second was a living man, not a picture.
At that moment he felt a kiss on his neck. Again he turned, but
there was no one; meanwhile his second self vanished.
Who is here? I wish to know! cried the angry prince.
It is I 'Kama, answered a sweet voice.
And in the strip of light appeared a most beautiful woman, naked,
with a golden girdle around her waist.
Ramses ran up and seized her by the hands. She did not flee.
Art Thou Kama? No, Thou art Yes, Dagon sent thee on a time, but
then Thou didst call thyself Fondling.
But I am Fondling, too, replied she, naively.
Is it Thou who hast touched me with thy hands?
UJ
How?
Ao! in this way, answered she, throwing her arms around his neck,
and kissing him.
Ramses seized her in his arms, but she tore herself free with a
force which no one could have suspected in such a slight figure.
Art Thou then the priestess Kama? Was it to thee that that Greek
sang to-night? asked the prince, pressing her hands passionately.
What sort of man is that singer?
Kama shrugged her shoulders contemptuously.
He is attached to our temple, was the answer.
Ramses' eyes flamed, his nostrils dilated, there was a roaring in
his head. That same woman a few months before had made on him only a
slight impression; but today he was ready to commit some mad deed
because of her. He envied the Greek, and felt also indescribable sorrow
at the thought that if she became his she must perish.
How beautiful Thou art, said he. Where dost Thou dwell? Ah, I
know; in that villa. Is it possible to visit thee? Of course it is. If
Thou receive singers, Thou must receive me. Art Thou really the
priestess guarding the fire of this temple?
I am.
And are the laws so severe that they do not permit thee to love?
Ei, those are threats! For me Thou wilt make exception.
All Phoenicia would curse me; the gods would take vengeance,
replied she, with a smile.
Ramses drew her again toward him; again she tore herself free.
Have a care, prince, said she, with a challenging look. Phoenicia
is mighty, and her gods.
What care I for thy gods or Phoenicia? Were a hair to fall from thy
head, I would trample Phoenicia as I might a foul reptile.
Kama! Kama! called a voice from the statue.
She was frightened.
Thou seest they call me. They may have heard thy blaspheming.
They may have heard my anger.
The anger of the gods is more terrible.
She tore away and vanished in the darkness of the temple. Ramses
rushed after her, but was pushed back on a sudden. The whole temple
between him and the altar was filled with an immense bloody flame, in
which monstrous figures appeared, huge bats, reptiles with human heads,
shades.
The flame advanced toward him directly across the whole width of the
building; and, amazed by this sight, which was new to him, the prince
retreated. All at once fresh air was around him. He turned his head he
was outside the temple, and that instant the bronze doors closed with a
crash behind.
He rubbed his eyes, he looked around. The moon from the highest
point in the heavens had lowered toward the west. At the side of the
column Ramses found his sword and burnous. He raised them, and moved
down the steps like a drunken man.
When he returned to his palace at a late hour, Tutmosis, on seeing
his pale face and troubled look, cried with alarm,
By the gods! where hast Thou been, Erpatr? Thy whole court is
alarmed and sleepless.
I was looking at the city. The night is beautiful.
Dost Thou know, added Tutmosis, hurriedly, as if fearing that some
one else might anticipate him, that Sarah has given thee a son?
Indeed? I wish no one in the retinue to be alarmed when I go out to
walk.
Alone?
If I could not go out alone when it pleases me, I should be the
most wretched slave in Egypt, said Ramses, bitterly.
He gave his sword and burnous to Tutmosis, and went to his bedroom
without calling any one. Yesterday the birth of a son would have filled
him with gladness; but at that moment he received the news with
indifference. His whole soul was occupied with the thought of that
evening, the most wonderful in all his life experience. He still saw
the light of the moon; in his ears the song of the Greek was still
sounding. But that temple of Astaroth!
He could not sleep till morning.
CHAPTER XXXII
Next day the prince rose late, bathed himself and dressed, then
summoned Tutmosis.
The exquisite appeared at once, dressed carefully and perfumed. He
looked sharply at the prince to learn in what humor he was, and to fix
his own features correspondingly. But on the face of Ramses was only
weariness.
Well, asked the prince, yawning, art Thou sure that a Bon is born
to me?
I have that news from the holy Mefres.
Oho! How long is it since the prophets are occupied with my
household?
Since the time that Thou hast shown them thy favor, worthiness.
Is that true? asked the prince, and he fell to thinking.
He recalled the scene of the previous night in the temple of
Astaroth, and compared it with a similar spectacle in the temple of
Hator.
They called my name, said he to himself, both here and there. But
there my cell was very narrow, and the walls were thick; here the
person calling, namely, Kama, could hide herself behind a column and
whisper. But here it was terribly dark, while in my cell it was clear.
At last he said to Tutmosis,
When did that happen?
When was thy worthy son born? About ten days ago. The mother and
child are well; they seem perfectly healthy. At the birth were present
Menes himself, thy worthy mother's physician, and his worthiness
Herhor.
Well well, said the prince, and again he fell to thinking: They
touched me here and there, with a band in both cases. Was there such a
difference? It seems to me that there was, maybe for the reason that
here I was, and there I was not, prepared to see a miracle. But here
they showed me another myself, which they did not succeed in doing
there. Very clever are the priests! I am curious to know who
represented me so well, a god or a man? Oh, the priests are very
clever, and I do not know even whom to trust more, our priests or the
Phoenicians?
Hear me, Tutmosis, said he, aloud. They must come hither; I must
see my son. At last no one will have the right to consider himself
better than I.
Is the worthy Sarah to come immediately with her son?
Let them come at the earliest, if their health permit. Within the
palace bounds are many convenient buildings. It is necessary to choose
a place among the trees, quiet, and, when the time of heat comes, cool.
Let me, too, show the world my son.
Again he was thoughtful; this disquieted Tutmosis.
Yes, they are clever! thought Ramses. That they deceive the
common people, even by rude methods, I knew. Poor sacred Apis! how many
prods he got during processions when people lay prostrate before him!
But to deceive me, I should not have believed that, voices of gods,
invisible hands, a man covered with pitch; these were accessories! Then
came Pentuer's song about the decrease of land and population, the
officials, the Phoenicians, and all that to disgust me with war.
Tutmosis said suddenly,
I fall on my face before thee.
I must bring hither, gradually, regiments from cities near the sea.
I wish to have a review and reward them for loyalty.
But we, the nobles, are we not loyal to thee? inquired Tutmosis,
confused.
The nobles and the army are one.
But the nomarchs and the officials?
Even the officials are loyal, answered the prince. What do I say?
The Phoenicians even are so, though in many other points they are
deceivers.
By the gods! speak in a lower voice, whispered Tutmosis; and he
looked toward the other room timidly.
Oho! laughed the prince, why this alarm? So for thee, too, it is
no secret that we have traitors?
I know of whom Thou art speaking, worthiness, for Thou wert always
prejudiced against.
Against whom?
Against whom I divine. But I thought that after the agreement with
Herhor, after a long stay in the temple.
What of the temple? In the temple, and in the whole country, for
that matter, I have convinced myself of one thing, that the very best
lands, the most active population, and immense wealth are not the
property of the pharaoh.
Quieter! quieter! whispered Tutmosis.
But I am quiet always; I have a calm face at all times, so let me
speak even here; besides, I should have the right to say, even in the
supreme council, that in this Egypt, which belongs entirely to my
father, I, his heir and viceroy, had to borrow a hundred talents from a
petty prince of Tyre. Is this not a shame?
But how did this come to thy mind today? asked Tutmosis, wishing
to put an end to the perilous conversation as quickly as possible.
How? answered the prince; and he grew silent, to sink again into
meditation.
It would not mean so much, thought he, if they deceived me alone;
I am only heir to the pharaoh, and not admitted to all secrets. But who
will assure me that they have not acted in the same way with my worthy
father? He has trusted them entirely during thirty and some years; he
has bowed down before miracles, given abundant offerings to the gods,
for this result, that his property and power should pass into the hands
of ambitious tricksters! And no one has opened his eyes. For the
pharaoh cannot, like me, enter Phoenician temples at night, and
absolutely no one has admission to his holiness.
But who will assure me today that the priests are not striving to
overthrow the throne, as Hiram said? Even my father informed me that
the Phoenicians are most truthful wherever they have an interest to be
so. Assuredly it is their interest not to be expelled from Egypt, and
not to fall under the power of Assyria. The Assyrians are a herd of
raging lions! Wherever they pass through a country nothing is left
except ruins and dead bodies, as after a fire.
All at once Ramses raised his head; from a distance came the sound
of flutes and horns.
What does this mean? inquired he of Tutmosis.
Great news! replied the courtier, with a smile. The Asiatics are
welcoming a famous pilgrim from Babylon.
From Baby Ion? Who is he?
His name is Sargon.
Sargon? repeated the prince. Sargon? Ha! ha! laughed the prince.
What is he?
He must be a great dignitary at the court of King Assar. He brings
with him ten elephants, a herd of most beautiful steeds of the desert,
crowds of slaves and servants.
But why has he come?
To bow down before the wonderful goddess Astaroth, who is honored
by all Asia, answered Tutmosis.
Ha! ha! ha! laughed the prince, recalling what Hiram had said of
the coming of the Assyrian ambassador, Sargon. Ha! ha! ha! Sargon, a
relative of King Assar, has become all at once such a devotee that for
whole months he goes on a difficult journey only to do honor in Pi-Bast
to the goddess Astaroth. But in Nineveh he could have found greater
gods and more learned priests. Ha! ha! ha!
Tutmosis looked at the prince with astonishment.
What has happened to thee, Erpatr? asked he.
Here is a miracle not described, I think, in the chronicles of any
temple. But think, Tutmosis: When Thou art most occupied with the
problem of catching the thief who is always plundering thee, that same
thief puts his hand again into thy casket before thy eyes, in presence
of a thousand witnesses. Ha! ha! ha! Sargon, a pious pilgrim!
I understand nothing, whispered Tutmosis, in anxiety.
And Thou hast no need to understand, replied the viceroy.
Remember only that Sargon has come hither for devotional purposes.
It seems to me that everything of which Thou art speaking, said
Tutmosis, lowering his voice, is very dangerous.
Then do not mention it to any one.
I will not; but art Thou sure that Thou thyself, prince, wilt not
betray the secret? Thou art as quick as lightning.
The prince placed his hand on the courtier's shoulder.
Be at rest, said he, looking him in the eyes. If ye will only be
loyal to me, ye, the nobles, and the army, ye will see wonderful
things, and, as regards you, evil times will be ended.
Thou knowest that we are ready to die at thy command, said
Tutmosis, placing his hand on his breast.
There was such uncommon seriousness on the adjutant's face that the
prince understood, moreover not for the first time, that there was
concealed in that riotous exquisite a valiant man, on whose sword and
understanding he could put reliance.
From that time the prince had no more such strange conversations
with Tutmosis. But that faithful friend and servant divined that
connected with the arrival of Sargon were some great hidden interests
of state which the priests alone had decided.
For a certain time all the Egyptian aristocracy, nomarchs, higher
officials, and leaders had been whispering among themselves very
quietly, yes, very quietly, that important events were approaching. For
the Phoenicians under an oath to keep the secret had told them of
certain treaties with Assyria, according to which Phoenicia would be
lost, and Egypt be covered with disgrace and become even tributary.
Indignation among the aristocracy was immense, but no one betrayed
himself; on the contrary, as well at the court of Ramses as at the
courts of the nomarchs of Lower Egypt, people amused themselves
perfectly. It might have been thought that with the weather had fallen
on men a rage not only for amusements but for riot. There was no day
without spectacles, feasts, and triumphal festivals; there was no night
without illuminations and uproar. Not only in Pi-Bast but in every city
it had become the fashion to run through the streets with torches,
music, and, above all, with full pitchers. They broke into houses and
dragged out sleeping dwellers to drinking-bouts; and since the
Egyptians were inclined toward festivities every man living amused
himself.
During Ramses' stay in the temple of Hator the Phoenicians, seized
by a panic, passed their days in prayer and refused credit to every
man. But after Hiram's interview with the viceroy caution deserted the
Phoenicians, and they began to make loans to Egyptian lords more
liberally than at any time earlier.
Such abundance of gold and goods as there was in Lower Egypt, and,
above all, such small per cent the oldest men could not remember.
The severe and wise priests turned attention to the madness of the
upper classes; but they were mistaken in estimating the cause of it,
and the holy Mentezufis, who sent a report every few days to Herhor.
stated that the heir, wearied by religious practices in the temple, was
amusing himself to madness, and with him the entire aristocracy.
The worthy minister did not even answer these statements, which
showed that he considered the rioting of the prince as quite natural
and perhaps even useful.
With such mental conditions around him Ramses enjoyed much freedom.
Almost every evening when his attendants had drunk too much wine and
had begun to lose consciousness, the prince slipped out of the palace.
Hidden by the dark burnous of an officer, he hurried through the empty
streets and out beyond the city to the gardens of the temple of
Astaroth. There he found the bench before that small villa, and, hidden
among the trees, listened to the song of Kama's worshipper, and dreamed
of the priestess.
The moon rose later and later, drawing near its renewal. The nights
were dark, the effects of light were gone; but in spite of this Ramses
continued to see that brightness of the first night, and he heard the
passionate strophes of the Greek singer.
More than once he rose from his bench to go directly to Kama's
dwelling, but shame seized him. He felt that it did not become the heir
of Egypt to show himself in the house of a priestess who was visited by
any pilgrim who gave a bountiful offering to the temple. What was more
striking, he feared lest the sight of Kama surrounded by pitchers and
unsuccessful admirers might extinguish the wonderful picture in the
moonlight.
When Dagon had sent her to turn away the prince's wrath, Kama seemed
attractive, but not a maiden for whom a man might lose his head
straightway. But when he, a leader of armies and a viceroy, was forced
for the first time in life to sit outside the house of a woman, when
the night roused him to imaginings, and when he heard the adroit
declarations of another, a strange feeling rose in him, a mixture of
sadness, desire, and jealousy.
If he could have had Kama at every call, she would have become
repulsive quickly, and perhaps he would have fled from her. But Death,
standing on the threshold of her bedchamber, an enamored singer, and,
finally, that humiliating position of the highest dignitary before a
priestess, all this created a condition which for Ramses was unknown
till that time, hence enticing.
And this was why he had appeared almost every evening of ten
successive days in the gardens of the goddess Astaroth, shielding his
face from all who passed him.
Once, when he had drunk much wine at a feast in his palace, Ramses
slipped out with a settled purpose.
To-night, said he to himself, I will enter Kama's dwelling; as to
her adorers let them sing at her windows.
He passed through the city quickly; but in the gardens of the temple
he lessened his steps, for again he was shamefaced.
Has it ever been heard, thought he, that the heir of a pharaoh
ran after women like a poor scribe who cannot borrow ten drachmas
anywhere? All women come to me, so should this one.
And he was ready then to turn back to his palace.
But she cannot come, said he to himself, for they would kill
her.
He stopped and hesitated.
Who would kill her, Hiram, who believes in nothing, or Dagon, who
knows not himself what he is? True, but there is a multitude of other
Phoenicians in Egypt, and hundreds of thousands of wild and fanatical
pilgrims are prowling around here. In the eyes of those idiots Kama
would commit sacrilege were she to visit me.
So he went toward the villa. He did not even think that danger might
threaten him there, him, who without drawing his sword might by a mere
look bring the whole world to his feet; he, Ramses, and danger!
When the prince came out from among trees, he saw that Kama's house
was more brightly lighted and more noisy than usual. In fact, the
terrace and the rooms were filled with guests, and around the villa
were throngs of people.
What band is this? thought Ramses.
It was an uncommon assemblage. Not far from the house was an immense
elephant, bearing on his back a gilded litter with purple curtains. At
the side of the elephant, neighing and squealing, and, in general,
acting impatiently, were horses with large necks and legs, with tails
plaited, and with something on their heads like metal helmets.
Among these restless, almost wild animals, some tens of men were
busied, men such as Ramses had never seen elsewhere. They had shaggy
hair, great beards, pointed caps with ear-laps; some wore long robes of
coarse cloth reaching to their heels; others wore short coats and
skirts, and some had boots on their feet. All carried swords, bows, and
darts.
At sight of these foreigners, stalwart, awkward, laughing vulgarly,
smelling of tallow, and speaking an unknown and harsh language, the
prince was indignant. As a lion, though not hungry, prepares to spring
when he sees a common animal, so Ramses, though they had offended him
in no way, felt a terrible hatred toward those strangers. He was
irritated by their language, their dress, the odor from their bodies,
even their horses. The blood rushed to his head, and he reached for his
sword to attack those men slay them and their beasts also. But soon he
recovered his senses.
Set has cast a spell on me, thought Ramses.
At that moment a naked Egyptian, with a cap on his head and a girdle
around his waist, passed along the path slowly. The prince felt that
the man was near to him, even precious at that moment, for he was an
Egyptian. He took from his purse a gold ring worth from ten to twenty
drachmas, and gave it to the bondman.
Listen, said he; who are those people?
Assyrians, whispered the Egyptian; and hatred glittered in his
eyes as he answered.
Assyrians, repeated the prince. Are those Assyrians, then? And
what are they doing here?
Their lord, Sargon, is paying court to the priestess, the sacred
Kama, and they are guarding him. May leprosy devour them, the wretches,
the swine sons!
Thou mayst go.
The naked man made a low obeisance and ran, surely to some kitchen.
Are those Assyrians? thought the prince, as he looked at their
strange figures and heard their hated, though un-understood language.
So already Assyrians are on the Nile, to become brothers to us, or to
deceive us, and their dignitary, Sargon, is courting Kama?
He returned home. His imaginings died before the light of a passion
felt then for the first time. He, a man mild and noble, felt a deadly
hatred toward the ancient enemies of Egypt, whom he had never met till
that evening.
When leaving the temple of Hator, and after his interview with
Hiram, he began to think of war with Asia; that was merely thinking
that Egypt needed population, and the pharaoh needed treasure; and
since war gave the easiest means to win them, and since, besides, it
agreed with his need of glory, Ramses conceived the plan of warfare.
But now he was concerned neither with slaves, nor treasures, nor glory,
for in him was sounding at that moment a voice mightier than every
other, the voice of hatred. The pharaohs had struggled so long with the
Assyrians, both sides had shed so much blood, the struggle had fixed
its roots in their hearts so profoundly, that the prince grasped for
his sword at the very sight of Assyrian warriors. It seemed that the
spirits of all the slain Egyptians, their toils and sufferings, had
risen in the soul of this descendant of pharaohs and cried for
retribution.
When Ramses reached the palace, he summoned Tutmosis. One of them
had drunk too much, the other was raging.
Dost Thou know what I have seen just now? asked the prince of his
favorite.
One of the priests, perhaps.
I have seen Assyrians. O ye gods! what I felt! What a low people!
Their bodies from head to foot are covered with wool, as wild beasts
are; the stench of old tallow comes from them; and what speech, what
beard, what hair!
The prince walked up and down the room quickly, panting, excited.
I thought, said he, that I despised the robberies of scribes, the
deceit of nomarchs, that I hated the cunning and ambition of priests; I
felt repulsion for Jews, and I feared the Phoenicians; but I convinced
myself to-night that those were all amusements. I know now, for the
first time, what hate is, after I have seen and heard Assyrians. I
understand now-why a dog tears the cat which has crossed his path.
Thou art accustomed to Jews and Phoenicians, worthiness, Thou hast
met Assyrians now for the first time, put in Tutmosis.
Stupidity! the Phoenicians! continued the prince, as if to
himself. The Phoenicians, the Philistines, the Arabs, the Libyans,
even the Ethiopians seem, as it were, members of our own family. When
they fail to pay tribute, we are angry; when they pay, we forget our
feeling.
But the Assyrians are something strange, something inimical, so
that I shall not be happy till I can count one hundred thousand of
their hands cut off by us.
Never had Tutmosis seen the prince in such a state of feeling.
CHAPTER XXXIII
A COUPLE of days later Ramses sent his favorite with a summons to
Kama. She appeared soon in a tightly closed litter.
Ramses received her in a separate chamber.
I was, said he, outside thy house one evening.
Oh, Astaroth! cried the priestess. To what must I attribute this
high favor? And what hindered thee, worthy lord, from deigning to
summon thy slave?
Some beasts were there, Assyrians, I suppose.
Then Thou didst take the trouble, worthiness, in the evening? Never
could I have dared to suppose that our ruler was under the open sky, a
few steps from me.
The prince blushed. How she would be astounded could she know that
he had passed ten evenings near her windows!
But perhaps she knew it, judging by her half-smiling lips and her
eyes cast down deceitfully.
So, then, Kama, said the prince, Thou receivest Assyrians at thy
villa?
That man is a great magnate, Sargon, a relative of King Assar,
answered Kama; he has brought five talents to our goddess.
And them wilt repay him, Kama? jeered the heir. And since he is
such a bountiful magnate, the Phoenician gods will not send thee death
in punishment.
What dost Thou say, lord? exclaimed Kama, clasping her hands.
Dost Thou not know that if an Asiatic found me in the desert he would
not lay hands on me, even were I myself to yield to him? They fear the
gods.
Why, then, does he come to thee, this malodorous no this pious
Asiatic?
Because he wants to persuade me to go to the temple of Astaroth in
Babylon.
And wilt Thou go?
I will go if Thou command me, lord, said Kama, concealing her face
with her veil.
The prince took her hands in silence. His lips quivered.
Do not touch me, lord, whispered she, with emotion. Thou art my
sovereign, my support, the support of all Phoenicians in this country
but have compassion.
The viceroy let her go, and walked up and down through the chamber.
The day is hot, is it not? asked he. There are countries where in
the month of Mechir white down falls from the sky, it is said; this
down in the fire turns to water, and makes the air cold. Oh, Kama, beg
thy gods to send me a little of that down, though what do I say? If
they should cover Egypt with it, all that down might be turned into
water and not cool the heart in me.
For Thou art like the divine Amon; Thou art the sun concealed in
human form, replied Kama. Darkness flees from that place whither Thou
turnest thy countenance, and under the gleam of thy glances flowers
blossom.
The prince turned again to her.
But be compassionate, whispered she. Moreover, Thou art a kind
god, hence Thou canst not be unjust to thy priestess.
The prince turned away again, and shook as if wishing to cast down a
burden. Kama looked from beneath her drooping lids at him, and smiled
slightly.
When silence had endured too long, she said,
Thou hast commanded to summon me, Sovereign. Here I am, to hear
what thy will is.
Aha! said the prince, recovering. But tell me, O, priestess, aha!
who was that who resembled me so closely, the man whom I saw that night
in the temple?
Kama placed a finger on her lips.
A sacred mystery, whispered she.
One thing is a mystery, another is not permitted, replied Ramses.
Let me know at least whether it was a man or a spirit?
A spirit.
But still that spirit sang under thy window.
Kama laughed.
I do not wish to violate the secrets of the temple.
Thou hast promised that to Prince Hiram, put in the priestess.
Well, well, interrupted the irritated viceroy; for this cause I
shall not speak with Hiram or any other man about this miracle, only
with thee. Now, Kama, tell this spirit or man who is so like me to
leave Egypt at the earliest, and not to show himself to any one. For,
seest thou, in no state can there be two heirs to the throne.
All at once he tapped his forehead. Up to that instant he had spoken
so as to trouble Kama, but now an idea altogether serious came to him.
I am curious, said he, looking sharply at Kama, to know why thy
compatriots showed me my own living picture. Do they wish to forewarn
me that they have a man to supplant me? Indeed, their act is
astounding.
Kama fell at his feet.
O lord! whispered she, Thou who bearest on thy breast our highest
talisman, canst Thou suppose that the Phoenicians would do aught to
injure thee? But only think if danger threatened thee, or if Thou hadst
the wish to mystify enemies, would not such a man be of service? The
Phoenician only wished to show thee this in the temple.
The prince meditated a moment, and shrugged his shoulders.
So, thought he, if I needed any one's assistance! But do the
Phoenicians think that I need assistance? If I do they have chosen a
poor protector.
Lord! whispered Kama, is it not known to thee that Ramses the
Great had, in addition to his own person, two others to show enemies?
Those two shadows of the pharaoh perished, but he survived.
Well, enough of this, interrupted the prince. But that the people
of Asia may know that I am gracious, I designate Kama five talents for
games, in honor of Astaroth, and a costly goblet for her temple. This
gift will be received today by thee.
He dismissed the priestess with a motion of his head.
After her departure a new wave of thought mastered him.
Indeed, the Phoenicians are clever. If this, my living picture, is
a man, they can make of him a great present to me, and I shall perform
at times miracles such, perhaps, as have never been heard of in Egypt.
The pharaoh dwells in Memphis, and at the same time he shows himself in
Thebes or in Tanis. The pharaoh is marching on Babylon with an army,
the Assyrians assemble their main forces there, and simultaneously the
pharaoh, with another army, captures Nineveh, I judge that the
Assyrians would be greatly astounded by an event of that sort.
And again deep hatred was roused in him against the strong Asiatics;
again he saw his conquering chariot sweeping over a battlefield covered
with Assyrian corpses, and whole baskets of severed hands stood before
him.
For his soul war had become now as great a need as bread is for the
body. For not only could he enrich Egypt by it, fill the treasury, and
win glory to last through ages, but, besides, he might satisfy the
instinct hitherto unknown, but roused mightily at that moment, to
destroy Assyria.
Until he had seen those warriors with shaggy beards he had not
thought of them. That day they had met him and made the world seem so
small that one side must give way, r they or he.
What role had Hiram and Kama played in creating his present frame of
mind? Of this he had made no estimate. He felt only that he must have
war with Assyria, just as a bird of passage feels that in the mouth
Pachons it must go northward.
A passion for war seized the prince quickly. He spoke less, laughed
more rarely, sat in thoughtfulness at feasts, and also spent his time
oftener and oftener with the army and the aristocracy. Seeing the favor
which the heir showered on those who bore arms, the noble youth, and
even older men, began to join regiments. This attracted the attention
of the holy Mentezufis, who sent a letter to Herhor with the following
contents:
From the time that the Assyrians have arrived at Pi-Bast the heir
is feverish, and his court is inclined toward war very greatly. They
drink and play dice as before; but all have thrown aside robes and
wigs, and, disregarding the awful heat, go about in military caps and
mantles.
I fear lest this armed readiness may offend the worthy Sargon.
To this Herhor replied immediately,
It is no harm that our effeminate nobles have taken a love for
military appearance during the visit of Sargon, for the Assyrians will
have a better opinion touching Egypt. Our most worthy viceroy,
enlightened by the gods, as is evident, has divined that just now it is
necessary to rattle our swords when we have with us the ambassadors of
such a military people. I am certain that this valiant bearing of our
youth will give Sargon something to think of, and will make him more
yielding in arguments.
For the first time since Egypt had become Egypt it happened that a
youthful prince had deceived the watchful priesthood. It is true that
the Phoenicians were behind him, and had stolen the secret of the
treaty with Assyria; of this the priests had not even a suspicion.
In fact, the very best mask which the heir had against suspicion was
his impetuosity of character. All remembered how easily in the past
year he had rushed from maneuvers at Pi-Bailos to Sarah's quiet country
villa, and how from feasts he had grown impassioned, recently, for
administrative labor, and then devotion, to return to feasts afterward.
So no one believed, with the exception of Tutmosis, that that
changeful youth had before him an object for which he would fight with
invincible decision.
Even this time there was no need to wait long for new proofs of the
prince's mobility of temper.
To Pi-Bast, in spite of the heat, came Sarah with all her court and
her infant. She was somewhat thin, her child a trifle ill, or wearied,
but both looked very charming.
The prince was enchanted. He assigned a house to Sarah in the
choicest part of the palace garden, and sat whole days, almost, at his
son's cradle.
Feasts, maneuvers, and gloomy meditations were forgotten; the lords
of his suite had to drink and amuse themselves without him. Very soon
they ungirded their swords and arrayed themselves in their most
exquisite garments. The change was the more indispensable as Ramses
brought some of them to Sarah's dwelling and showed his son to them.
See, Tutmosis, said he once to his favorite, what a pretty child:
a real rose leaf! Well, and out of this little thing a man will grow
gradually. And this rosy chick will walk about some day, talk, even
learn wisdom in the schools of the priesthood.
Look at his little hands, Tutmosis, said Ramses, delighted.
Remember these little hands, so as to tell of them some day when I
give him a regiment, and command him to have my mace borne behind him.
And this is my son, my own son.
It is not to be wondered at that when their lord spoke thus his
attendants were sorry that they could not become dry or wet nurses to
the child which, though it had no dynastic rights, was still the first
son of the future pharaoh.
But this idyll ended very soon, since it did not harmonize with the
interests of the Phoenicians.
A certain day the worthy Hiram arrived at the palace with a great
suite of merchants, slaves, and also poor Egyptians to whom he gave
alms, and when he stood before the heir, he said,
Our gracious lord! to prove that thy heart is full of kindness
toward us Asiatics also, Thou hast given five talents to arrange games
in honor of the goddess Astaroth. Thy will is accomplished; we have
arranged the games, now we have come to implore thee to deign to honor
the games with thy presence.
While saying this, the gray-haired Tyrian prince knelt before Ramses
and gave him a golden key to his box in the amphitheatre.
Ramses accepted the invitation willingly; the holy priests Mefres
and Mentezufis had no objection to the presence of the prince in
honoring the goddess Astaroth.
First of all, Astaroth, said the worthy Mefres to Mentezufis, is
the same as our Is is and the Chaldean Istar; second, if we permit
Asiatics to build temples in our land it is proper to be kindly to
their gods at seasons.
We are obliged even to show some politeness to Phoenicians after
the conclusion of such a treaty with Assyria, put in the worthy
Mentezufis, smiling.
The amphitheatre, to which the viceroy, the nomarch, and the
foremost officers betook themselves about four in the afternoon was
built in the garden of the temple. It was a circular space surrounded
by a palisade twice the height of a man. Inside the palisade, and round
about, was a multitude of boxes and seats rising one above the other.
The structure had no roof, but above the boxes extended cloth of
various colors, cut like wings of butterflies, which, sprinkled with
fragrant water, were moved to cool the atmosphere.
When the viceroy appeared in his box, the Asiatics and Egyptians
present in the amphitheatre gave forth a mighty shout. The spectacle
began with a procession of singers, dancers, and musicians.
The prince looked around. At his right was the box of Hiram and the
most noted of the Phoenicians; on his left the box of the Phoenician
priests and priestesses. In this Kama occupied one among the first
places, and attracted notice by her splendid dress and by her beauty.
She wore a transparent robe adorned with embroidery of various colors,
gold bracelets and anklets, and on her head a circlet with a lotus
flower composed most skillfully of jewels.
Kama came with her colleagues, saluted the prince with low
obeisances, and returned to the box on the left, where began an
animated conversation with a foreigner whose hair was somewhat gray and
whose presence was imposing. The hair and beard of this man and his
companions were plaited into small braids.
The prince had come almost directly from the chamber of his son, and
was gladsome. But he frowned when he saw the priestess speaking with a
stranger.
Dost Thou not know, Tutmosis, who that big fellow is for whom the
priestess is so charming? asked he.
He is that famous pilgrim who has come from Babylon, the worthy
Sargon.
But he is an old grandfather!
His years are surely more than thine and mine together; but he is a
stately person.
Could such a barbarian be stately! said the indignant viceroy. I
am certain that he bears about the smell of tallow.
Both were silent: the prince from anger, Tutmosis from fear because
he had dared to praise a man whom Ramses hated.
Meanwhile spectacle followed spectacle on the arena. In turn
appeared acrobats, serpent-charmers, dancers, buffoons, and jesters,
who called forth shouts from the audience.
But Ramses was gloomy. In his soul sprang up, moment after moment,
passions which had been dormant, hatred for Assyrians and jealousy of
Kama.
How can that woman, thought he, fondle up to an old man who has a
complexion like tanned leather, wild black eyes, and the beard of a he-goat?
But once the prince turned a more attentive look on the arena.
A number of naked Chaldeans entered. The oldest fixed in the earth
three short spears, points upward; then, with motions of his hands, he
put the youngest man to sleep. After that others took the sleeping man
and placed him on the spears in such fashion that one of the spears
supported his head, another his loins, and the third his feet.
The man was as stiff as wood. Then the old man made motions above
him with his hands, and drew out the spear supporting his feet. After a
while he removed the spear on which his loins were resting, and finally
that on which his head was fixed.
This took place in the clear day, before some thousands of
spectators. The sleeping Chaldean rested in the air horizontally,
without support, a couple of ells above the earth. At last the old man
pushed him down and roused him.
The audience was astounded; no one dared to applaud or to shout, but
flowers were thrown from some boxes.
Ramses too was astonished. He bent towards Hiram's box, and asked
the old prince in a low voice,
Could they perform that secret in the temple of Astaroth?
I am not conversant with all the secrets of our priests, answered
Hiram, confused. I know, though, that Chaldeans are very clever.
But we all saw that that young man rested in the air.
If they did not put a spell on us, said Hiram, reluctantly; and he
grew serious.
After a short interval, during which servitors took to the boxes of
dignitaries fresh flowers, cool wine and cakes, the most important part
of the spectacle began, the bull fight.
To the sound of trumpets, drums, and flutes they led a strong bull
into the arena, with a cloth over his head so that he should not see.
Then a number of naked men ran around with darts, and one with a short
sword.
At a signal, given by the prince, the leaders ran away, and one of
the armed men struck the cloth from the head of the bull. The beast
stood some moments in a maze; then he chased after the dart man, who
vexed him by pricking.
This barren struggle continued some tens of minutes. Men tormented
the bull, and he, foaming, stained with blood, reared and chased over
the whole arena after his enemies without reaching any.
At last he fell, amid the laughter of the spectators.
The wearied prince, instead of looking at the arena, looked at the
box of the Phoenician priests. He saw that Kama had moved nearer to
Sargon and was conversing vivaciously. The Assyrian devoured her with
his glances; she smiled and blushed, whispered with him, sometimes
bending so that her hair touched the locks of the barbarian; sometimes
she turned from him and feigned anger.
Ramses felt pain in his heart. For the first time it had happened
that a woman had preferred another man to him; besides, a man who was
almost old, and, moreover, an Assyrian.
Meanwhile a murmur rose in the audience. On the arena a man armed
with a sword gave command to tie his left hand to his breast; others
looked at their darts a second bull was let in. When an armed man tore
the cloth from his eyes, the bull turned and looked around as if to
count his opponents. But when they began to prick him, he withdrew to
the paling to secure the rear; then he lowered his head and followed
the movements of those attacking.
At first the armed men stole up guardedly from both sides to prick
him. But when the beast remained motionless, they gained courage, and
began to run across in front, nearer and nearer.
The bull inclined his head still more, but stood as if fixed to the
earth. The audience laughed; but their joyousness was turned to a cry
of fear suddenly. The bull chose the moment, rushed forward, struck
some man who held a dart, and with one motion of his horns hurled him
upward.
The man struck the earth with broken bones; the bull galloped to the
other side of the arena and stood in a defensive position.
The men with darts surrounded the bull again, and began to irritate
the animal; but now servants of the amphitheatre rushed to the arena to
carry off the wounded man, who was groaning. The bull, in spite of the
redoubled pricks of darts, stood motionless; but when three servants
had taken the wounded man in their arms, he rushed at that group with
the swiftness of a whirlwind, overturned it, and began to dig the
ground with his forefeet tremendously.
There was confusion in the audience: women screamed, men imprecated,
and hurled at the bull whatever each one found nearest. Sticks, knives,
even bench tops fell on the arena. Then a man with a sword rushed at
the raging bull. But the dart men lost their heads and left him
unsupported; hence the bull tossed him and pursued the others. A thing
unparalleled in amphitheatres took place then: five men were lying on
the arena; others, defending themselves badly, were fleeing before the
beast, while the audience was roaring from fear or from anger.
Next there was perfect silence; the spectators rose and bent forward
out of their places, the terrified Hiram grew pale and crossed his
hands. Down to the arena, from the boxes of dignitaries, sprang two
men, Prince Ramses, with a drawn sword, and Sargon, with a short-handled axe.
The bull, with head down and tail in the air, was racing around the
arena, leaving clouds of dust behind him. The beast rushed straight
toward the prince, but, as if repulsed by the majesty of the youth,
avoided him, made directly at Sargon, and dropped to the earth. The
Assyrian, adroit and immensely strong, stretched him with one blow of
his axe, given between the eyes.
The audience howled with delight, and threw flowers at Sargon and
his victim. Ramses stood still with drawn sword, astonished and angry,
seeing how Kama snatched flowers from her neighbors and threw them to
the Assyrian.
Sargon received expressions of public delight with indifference. He
pushed the bull with his foot to be sure that the beast was lifeless;
and then, going a couple of steps toward the prince, said something in
his own speech, and bowed with the dignity of a magnate.
A bloody mist passed before the prince's eyes; he would have buried
his sword in the victor's breast gladly. But he conquered himself,
thought a moment, and taking a gold chain from his neck gave it to
Sargon.
The Assyrian bowed again, kissed the chain, and put it around his
neck. But the prince, with a bluish flush on his cheeks, returned to
the door by which actors entered the arena, and amid plaudits of the
audience left the amphitheatre with a feeling of deep humiliation.
CHAPTER XXXIV
IT was the month Thoth. In the city of Pi-Bast and its environs the
concourse of people had begun, because of heat, to diminish. But the
court of Ramses amused itself always, and people talked of what had
happened in the amphitheatre.
Courtiers praised the courage of the prince, maladroit men wondered
at the strength of Sargon, the priests whispered with important mien
that in every case the heir to the throne should not involve himself in
bull-fights: for that there were men who were hired, or who, at least,
did not possess public veneration.
Either Ramses did not hear these various opinions, or did not
consider them. As to the spectacle, two episodes were fixed in his
memory: victory over the bull had been snatched from him by the
Assyrian, who had also paid court to Kama, and she had received his
attentions most willingly.
Since he might not bring the Phoenician priestess to his palace, he
sent one day a letter to her in which he declared that he wished to see
her, and inquired when she would receive him. Through the same
messenger Kama replied that she would wait for him that evening.
Barely had the stars shown themselves, when the prince (with the
greatest secrecy, as he thought) slipped out of the palace, and went to
the villa. The garden of the temple of Astaroth was almost empty,
especially near the house of the priestess. The building was silent,
and inside only two tapers were burning.
When the prince knocked timidly, the priestess herself drew the door
open. In the dark antechamber she kissed his hand, whispering that she
would have died had the raging bull injured him in the arena.
But now Thou must be at rest, since thy lover saved me, said the
prince.
When they entered the lighted chamber, Ramses saw that Kama was
weeping.
What does this mean? inquired he.
The heart of my lord has turned from me, said she; but perhaps
justly.
The heir laughed bitterly in answer.
Then, sacred virgin, Thou art already his mistress, or about to
be?
Mistress? Never! But I may become the wife of that dreadful
Assyrian.
Ramses sprang from his seat.
Am I dreaming, cried he, or has Set cast his curse on me? Thou, a
priestess, guarding the fire before the altar of Astaroth, thou, who
under the threat of death must be a virgin, art Thou going to marry? In
truth, Phoenician deceit is worse than people's account of it.
Hear me, lord, said Kama, wiping her tears away, and condemn if I
deserve it. Sargon wishes to take me as his first wife. According to
our laws a priestess may, in very exceptional cases, become a wife, but
only if the man is of kingly origin. Sargon is a relative of King
Assar.
And wilt Thou marry him?
If the supreme council of Tyrian priests command me, what can I
do? replied she, bursting into tears again.
And what is Sargon to that council? asked the prince.
Very much, perhaps, said Kama, with a sigh. The Assyrians will
take Phoenicia in all likelihood, and Sargon will be its satrap.
Art Thou demented? exclaimed the prince.
I say what I know. In our temple we have begun prayers the second
time to avert misfortune from Phoenicia. We had our first prayers
before Thou didst come to us.
Why do ye pray now?
Because the Chaldean priest Istubar has just come to Egypt with
letters, in which King Assar appoints Sargon his ambassador to conclude
a treaty with you about the taking of Phoenicia.
But I interrupted the prince.
He wished to say, know nothing, but he restrained himself,
laughed, and answered,
Kama, I swear to thee, on the honor of my father, that while I live
Assyria will not take Phoenicia. Is that enough?
Oh, lord, lord! cried she, falling at his feet.
Then Thou wilt not become the wife of that rude fellow?
Oh, shuddered she, canst Thou ask such a question?
And Thou wilt be mine, whispered the prince.
Dost Thou wish my death? asked she, terrified. Well, if Thou wish
it, I am ready.
I wish thee to live, whispered he, impassioned, to live,
belonging to me.
That cannot be,
But the supreme council of Tyrian priests?
They can permit nothing but marriage.
But Thou wilt enter my house.
If I enter it not as thy wife, I shall die. But I am ready even not
to see to-morrow's sun.
Be at rest, replied the prince, seriously. Whoso has my favor
will not experience injustice.
Kama knelt before him a second time.
How can that be? asked she, clasping her hands.
Ramses was so roused that he had forgotten his position and his
duties; he was ready to promise the priestess even marriage. He was
restrained from that step, not by judgment, but by some dumb instinct.
How can this be? How can this be? whispered Kama, devouring him
with her glances and kissing his feet.
The prince raised her, seated her at a distance from him, and said
with a smile,
Thou askest how this can be I will explain immediately. My last
teacher, before I reached maturity, was a certain old priest, who knew
a multitude of marvelous histories from the lives of gods, kings,
priests, even lower officials and laborers.
This old man, famed for devotion and miracles, did not like women,
I know not why; he even dreaded them. Very frequently he described the
perversity of women, and once, to show how great the power is which ye
wield over men, he told me the following history:
A certain scribe, young and indigent, who had not an uten in his
purse, who had nothing save a barley cake, traveled down from Thebes to
Lower Egypt while seeking for employment. Men said that in the north
dwelt the richest lords and merchants, and that in case of luck he
would find a place in which he might acquire extensive property.
He walked along the Nile, for he had no coin with which to hire a
boat, and he pondered,
'How improvident are men inheriting a talent or two, or even ten
talents! Instead of adding to their wealth by traffic, or by lending at
high interest,' thought he, 'these men waste what they have, to no
purpose. Had I a drachma, well, one drachma is too little, but had I
one talent, or, better, a plot of land, I would increase it yearly, and
toward the end of life I should be as wealthy as the wealthiest
nomarch.
'But how begin!' said he, sighing. 'Only fools are favored by the
gods; and I am filled with wisdom from my wig to my two naked heels. If
in my heart a grain of dullness lurks, it is perhaps my inability to
squander, and I should not even know how to set about a work so godless
in its object.'
As the needy scribe was thus musing, he passed a mud hut at which
sat some man, neither old nor young, with a very keen glance, which
reached to the depth of whatever heart came before him. The scribe, as
wise as a stork, thought at once that this must be some divinity; so he
bowed down and said to him,
'I greet thee, worthy master of this splendid mansion. I grieve
that I have neither meat nor wine, so as to divide them between us, in
sign that I respect thee, and that whatever I own is thy property.'
This kindness of the scribe was pleasing to Amon, for he it was, in
human aspect. He looked at the scribe, and inquired of him,
'Of what wert Thou thinking while passing along here? for I see
wisdom on thy forehead, and I am of those who seize words of truth as
partridges pick up wheat kernels.'
The scribe sighed.
'I was thinking,' said he, 'of my misery, and of those frivolous
rich men who spend their wealth without knowing why or in what manner.'
'And wouldst Thou not waste wealth?' inquired the god, retaining
human semblance.
'Look at me, lord,' said the scribe. 'I have a tattered rag around
my hips, and on the road I have lost my sandals; but my papyrus and
reed I bear with me at all times, as I do the heart in my body. Both
while rising in the morning and lying down at night, I repeat that wise
poverty is far better than foolish riches. If I know how to express
myself in two kinds of writing and to solve the most complicated
problems, if I know all plants and every beast beneath the sky, Thou
mayst judge whether I, the master of such lore, am capable of wasting
property.'
The god pondered awhile, and continued,
'Thy speech flows as vigorously as the Nile at Memphis; but if Thou
art so wise, indeed, write for me the name of Amon in two manners.'
The scribe took his reed and brush, and in no long time he wrote
the name Amon in two manners on the door of the hut, and so clearly
that even dumb creatures would have stopped to give Lord Amon homage.
The god was satisfied, and answered,
'If Thou art as skilled in reckoning as in writing, reckon for me
the following problem: If they give me four hen eggs for one partridge,
how many hen eggs should they give me for seven partridges?'
The scribe gathered pebbles, placed them in various rows, and
before the sun had set, he answered that they should give twenty-eight
eggs for seven partridges.
The almighty Amon smiled when be saw before him a sage of such
uncommon proportions, and answered,
'I recognize that Thou hast spoken truth concerning thy wisdom. If
Thou shalt appear equally enduring in virtue I will so arrange that
Thou shalt be happy to the end of life, and after death thy sons shall
place thy shade in a beautiful tomb. But now tell me: what wealth dost
Thou wish, wealth which Thou wouldst not merely refrain from wasting,
but wouldst increase?'
The scribe fell to the feet of the generous deity, and answered,
'If I had even this hut and three measures of land, I should be
wealthy.'
'Well,' said the god, 'but first look around and see if it would
suffice thee.'
He led him into the hut, and said,
'Thou hast four caps and skirts, two mantles for bad weather, and
two pairs of sandals. Here is a fire, here a bench on which Thou mayst
sleep, a mortar for crushing wheat, and a pan for dough.'
'But what is this?' asked the scribe, pointing to a certain figure
covered with linen.
'That is one thing which Thou must not touch; if Thou do, Thou wilt
lose all thy property.'
'Ai!' cried the scribe. 'That may remain a thousand years there; I
will not trouble it. With permission of thy honor, what estate is that
over there?' and he bent through the hut window.
'Thou hast spoken wisely,' said Amon, 'for that is an estate, and
even a fine one. It is composed of fifty measures of land. There is a
spacious house on it, some tens of cattle, and ten slaves belong to the
establishment. If Thou prefer that estate.'
The scribe fell at the feet of the deity.
'Is there,' inquired he, 'a man under the sun who instead of a
barley cake would not prefer a loaf of wheaten bread?'
When he heard this, Amon repeated a formula, and that moment both
were in the mansion.
'Here Thou hast,' said the god, 'a carved bed, five tables, and ten
armchairs; Thou hast embroidered clothing, Thou hast pitchers, and
glass bottles for wine, a lamp for olive oil, and a litter.'
'And what is this?' asked the scribe, pointing to a figure robed in
muslin and standing in a corner.
'Thou must not touch that or Thou wilt lose all thy property.'
'Were I to live ten thousand years I would not touch it. For, after
wisdom, I consider wealth the highest blessing.'
'But what do I see?' inquired he after a while, pointing to an
immense palace in a garden.
'Over there is a princely estate,' replied the god. 'That is a
palace, five hundred measures of land, one hundred slaves, and two
hundred head of cattle. That is a grand property: but if Thou think thy
wisdom sufficient to manage it.'
The scribe fell again at the feet of Amon, and covered himself with
tears of delight.
'O lord,' said he, 'is there on earth a mad man who instead of a
goblet of beer would not take a cask of wine?'
'Thy words are worthy of the sage who can make the most difficult
reckonings,' said Amon.
He pronounced the mighty words of the formula; the god and the
scribe found themselves in the palace.
'Here Thou hast,' said the kind god, 'a dining-hall; in it gold and
gilded curtains, and armchairs, also tables inlaid with woods of
various colors. In the lower story is a kitchen for five cooks; a
storehouse where Thou wilt find all kinds of meat, fish, bread;
finally, a cellar with perfect wines in it. Thou hast a bedchamber with
a movable roof, with which thy slaves will cool thee while Thou art
sleeping. I turn attention to the bed, which is made of cedar wood, and
rests on four lion legs cast from bronze skillfully. Thou hast a
wardrobe filled with linen and woolen garments; in caskets Thou wilt
find rings, chains, and bracelets.'
But what is this? asked the scribe, pointing to a figure covered
with a veil embroidered in gold and purple.
'Thou must guard thyself from this most carefully,' warned the god.
'If Thou touch this, thy immense estate will vanish. And there are few
such estates in Egypt, I assure thee. Moreover, I must say that in the
treasury here there are ten talents in gold and precious stones in
addition.'
My sovereign, cried the scribe, permit that the first place in
this palace be held by thy sacred statue, before which I will burn
incense three times daily.
'But avoid that,' replied Amon, pointing to the veiled figure.
'Should I lose my wisdom, and be worse than a wild boar, for which
wine is no better than swill,' said the scribe; 'let that veiled figure
do penance here for a hundred millenniums, I will not touch it.'
'Remember that if Thou do Thou wilt lose all Thou hast,' cried the
god; and he vanished.
The scribe, now made happy, walked up and down through his palace
and looked out through the windows. He examined the treasury and tried
the gold in his hands; it was heavy. He looked at the precious stones;
they were genuine. He commanded to serve him with food; in rushed
slaves immediately, bathed him, shaved him, arrayed him in fine
garments. He ate and drank as be never had drunk and eaten; his hunger
joined with the perfection of the food gave a marvelous taste to it. He
burnt incense before the statue of Amon, and wreathed it with fresh
flowers. Later he sat down at a window.
In the courtyard a pair of horses were neighing; they were
harnessed to a carved chariot. In another place a crowd of men with
darts and nets were keeping down eager dogs which were tearing away to
chase animals. Before a granary one scribe was receiving grain from
earth- tillers; before the stable another scribe was receiving
reckoning from the overseer of the shepherds.
In the distance were visible an olive grove, high hills covered
with grape-vines, wheat-fields, and on every field were date palms set
out thickly.
'In truth,' said he to himself, 'I am rich today, just as was
proper; and I only wonder how I endured life so long in abasement and
misery. I must confess, too, that I do not know whether I can increase
this immense property, for I need no more now, and I shall not have
time to run after investments.'
But after a while it was tedious in the house for him; so he looked
at the garden, went around the fields, talked with the servants, who
fell on their faces in his presence, though they were dressed in such
style that yesterday he would have thought it an honor to kiss the
hands of any one of them; but he was bored in the field even, so he
went back to the house, and examined the supplies in his storehouses
and cellars, also the furniture in the chambers.
'They are beautiful,' said he to himself; 'but it would be better
if the furniture were made of gold, and the pitchers of jewels.'
His eyes turned mechanically toward the corner where the figure was
concealed under an embroidered veil and it sighed.
'Sigh!' said he, taking a censer to burn incense before the statue
of Amon.
'He is a kind god,' thought he, 'who values the qualities of sages,
even when barefoot, and deals out to them justice. What a beautiful
estate he has given me! It is true that I showed him honor by writing
Amon on the door of that hut in two manners. And how beautifully I
reckoned how many hen eggs he would get for seven partridges. My
teachers were right when they said that wisdom opens the lips of gods
even,'
He turned again toward the corner. The veiled figure sighed again.
'I am curious to know,' thought the scribe, 'why my friend Amon
forbade me to touch that thing over there in the corner. Well, for such
a property he had a right to impose conditions; though I should not
have imposed them on him. For if all this palace is my property, if I
may use all that is here, why should I not even touch this thing I may
not touch it, but I may look at it.'
He approached the figure, drew the veil aside carefully, looked; it
was indeed beautiful. It resembled a boy, but was not a boy. It had
hair reaching to its knees, delicate features, and a look full of
sweetness.
'Who art thou?' asked the scribe of the figure.
'I am a woman,' answered the figure, with a voice that penetrated
his heart like a Phoenician dagger.
'Woman?' thought the scribe. 'They did not tell me about woman in
the priests' school. Woman?' repeated he. 'But what hast Thou here?'
'Those are my eyes.'
'Eyes? What canst Thou see with eyes which would melt before any
light?'
'Those are not eyes made for me to look from, but Thou must look
into them.'
'Wonderful eyes! ' thought the scribe to himself; and he walked
through the chamber.
Again he stood before the figure, and asked,
'But what hast Thou here?'
'Those are my lips.'
'By the gods, Thou wilt die of hunger,' cried he, 'for with such
little lips Thou couldst take in no food whatever.'
'They are not for eating,' answered the figure, 'but Thou art to
kiss them.'
'To kiss,' repeated the scribe. 'They did not tell me in the
priests' school of kissing. But these what are they?'
'Those are my hands.'
'Hands? It is well that Thou hast told me, for with those hands
Thou couldst not do anything; Thou couldst not milk sheep even.'
'My hands are not for work.'
'But for what?' wondered the scribe, spreading apart her fingers
(as I do thine, Kama, said the prince, fondling the small hands of the
priestess). ' But what are those arms for?' inquired the scribe of the
figure.
'To put around thy neck.'
'Thou wishest to say shoulder,' cried the frightened scribe, whom
the priest always seized by the shoulder when he was to get stripes.
'Not by the shoulder,' said the figure, 'but this way;' and she put
her arms around his neck thus, said the prince (here he put his arms
around the priestess), and she nestled up to his breast thus (here he
nestled up to Kama).
Lord, what art Thou doing? whispered Kama. But this is nay
death.
Have no fear, replied the prince; I was only showing thee what
the statue did to that scribe in his palace. The moment she embraced
him the earth trembled, the palace disappeared, dogs, horses, slaves
vanished. The hill covered with grape-vines turned into a cliff, the
olive-trees into thorns, the wheat into sand. The scribe, when he
recovered in the embrace of his love, understood that he was as poor as
he had been on the highroad a day earlier. But he did not regret his
wealth, since he had a woman who loved and who clung to him.
So everything vanished but the woman! exclaimed Kama, naively.
The compassionate Amon left her to the scribe to console him, said
the viceroy.
Then Amon is compassionate only to scribes, answered Kama. But
what does that story signify?
Guess. But Thou hast just heard what the poor scribe yielded up for
the kiss of a woman.
But he would not yield up a throne, interrupted the priestess.
Who knows? if he were implored greatly to do so, whispered Ramses,
with passion.
Oh, no! cried Kama, tearing away from him; let not the throne go
so easily, for what would become then of thy promise to Phoenicia?
They looked into each other's eyes for a long time. The prince felt
a wound in his heart, and felt as if through that wound some feeling
had gone from him. It was not passion, for passion remained; but it was
esteem for Kama, and faith in her.
Wonderful are these Phoenicians, thought the heir; one may go
wild for them, but 'tis not possible to trust them.
He felt wearied, and took farewell of the priestess. He looked
around the chamber as though it were difficult to leave the place; and
while going, he said to himself,
And still Thou wilt be mine, and Phoenician gods will not kill
thee, if they regard their own priests and temples.
Barely had Ramses left Kama's villa, when into the chamber of the
priestess rushed a young Greek who was strikingly beautiful, and
strikingly similar to Ramses. Rage was depicted on his face.
Lykon! cried the terrified Kama. What art Thou doing here?
Vile reptile! replied the Greek, in his resonant voice. A month
has not passed since thy oath, declaring thy love, and that Thou
wouldst flee to Greece with me, and now Thou art falling on the neck of
another. Are the gods dead? Has justice deserted them?
Thou art mad with thy jealousy, interrupted the priestess; Thou
wilt kill me.
It is sure that I, and not thy stone goddess, will kill thee. With
these two hands, cried he, stretching out his fingers, like talons, I
will choke thee if Thou hast become the mistress.
Of whom?
Do I know? Of course, of both, of that old Assyrian and this
princeling, whose head I will split with a stone should he prowl about
this place any longer. The prince! he has all the women of Egypt, and
still he wants foreign priestesses. The priestesses are for priests,
not for foreigners.
Kama recovered her coolness.
But for us art Thou not a foreigner? asked she, haughtily.
Reptile! burst out the Greek, a second time. I cannot be a
foreigner for you Asiatics, since that gift of voice with which the
gods have endowed me is turned to the use of your divinities. But how
often, by means of my figure, have ye deceived dull Asiatics by telling
them that the heir to the throne of Egypt belongs to your faith in
secret?
Silence! silence! hissed the priestess, closing his mouth with her
hand.
There must have been something enchanting in her touch, for the
Greek grew calm, and spoke lower.
Hear me, Kama. Soon to the bay of Sebenico will come a Greek ship,
commanded by my brother. Make the high priest send thee to Pi-Uto; we
shall flee thence to northern Greece, to a place which has never yet
seen a Phoenician.
It will see them if I hide there, interrupted the priestess.
Should a hair fall from thy head, whispered the raging Greek, I
swear that Dagon, that all the Phoenicians here will lose their heads,
or die in the stone quarries. They will learn what a Greek can do.
But I say to thee, answered Kama, in the same tone, that until I
collect twenty talents I will not leave here. I have now only eight.
Where wilt Thou get the other twelve?
Sargon and the viceroy will give them.
I will let Sargon give, but not the prince.
Foolish Lykon, dost thou not know why that stripling pleases me a
little? He reminds me of thee.
The Greek was perfectly quieted.
Well, well, muttered he, I understand that when a woman has the
choice between the heir to the throne and a man with my voice I have no
need to tremble. But I am jealous and violent, so I beg thee to let him
approach thee as little as possible.
He kissed her, slipped out of the villa, and vanished in the dark
garden.
Kama stretched her clinched fist after him.
Worthless buffoon! whispered she; Thou who art hardly fit to be a
singing slave in my mansion.
CHAPTER XXXV
When Ramses on the following morning visited his son, he found Sarah
weeping. He asked what the cause was. She answered at first that
nothing troubled her; then she said that she was sad. At last she fell
at his feet and cried bitterly.
My lord, whispered she, I know that Thou hast ceased to love me,
but at least avoid danger.
Who said that I have ceased to love thee? asked Ramses,
astonished.
Thou hast in thy house three new women, ladies of high family.
Ah, so that is the trouble?
Besides, Thou art exposing thyself for a fourth, a wicked
Phoenician.
The prince was confused. Whence could Sarah know of Kama, and know
that she was wicked?
As dust squeezes into caskets, so scandals work into the quietest
houses, said Ramses. Who has spoken to thee of a Phoenician?
Do I know who? My heart and an evil omen.
Then are there omens?
Terrible. One old priestess learned, I suppose from a crystal ball,
that we shall all perish through Phoenicians, especially I and my son,
burst out Sarah.
And Thou who believest in One, in Jehovah, fearest the fictions of
some stupid old woman who is perhaps intriguing? Where is thy great
Deity?
My God is only mine, but those others are thine; so I must revere
them.
Then that old woman spoke to thee of Phoenicians? asked Ramses.
She told me long ago, while in Memphis, that I should guard against
a Phoenician woman, answered Sarah. Here all are speaking of a
Phoenician priestess. I cannot tell; maybe it is only something
wandering in my troubled head.
People say even that were it not for her spell Thou wouldst not
have sprung into the arena. Oh, if the bull had killed thee! Even
today, when I think of the evil which might have happened, the heart
grows cold in my bosom.
Laugh, Sarah, interrupted Ramses, joyously. She whom I take to
myself stands so high that no fear should reach her, still less, stupid
scandal.
But misfortune? Is there a mountain top so high that the missile of
misfortune may not reach it?
Thy sickness has wearied thee, and fever has disturbed thy mind;
that is why Thou art troubled without reason. Be quiet, and watch over
my son. A man, said he, in deep thought, be he Greek or Phoenician,
can harm only beings like himself, but not us, who are gods of this
world.
What didst Thou say of a Greek? What Greek? asked Sarah, alarmed.
Did I say Greek? I know nothing of a Greek. Such a word may have
slipped from me; perhaps Thou didst not hear correctly.
He kissed Sarah and his son, and took farewell of them; but he did
not expel fear.
We must say once, and decisively, thought he, that in Egypt no
secret is hidden. The priests and my attendants follow me, even when
they are drunk, or pretend to be, and the serpent eyes of Phoenicia are
gazing at Kama. If they have not hidden her before me thus far, they
must have small regard for her virtue. Moreover, before whom? Before
me, to whom they themselves discovered the deceptions of their own
temple. Kama will belong to me. They are too much involved in this to
think of bringing my auger on their heads by opposition.
A couple of days later the holy Mentezufis, assistant of the worthy
Herhor, came to the erpatr. Ramses, looking at the pale face and
downcast eyes of the prophet, divined that he too knew of the
Phoenician woman, and perhaps wished, as a priest, to reprimand the
viceroy. But this time Mentezufis did not mention affairs touching the
heart of the heir.
When he had greeted the prince, with an official mien, the prophet
took the seat indicated, and began,
From the Memphis palace of the lord of eternity they have informed
me that in recent days the Chaldean high priest Istubar, the court
astrologer and counselor of his grace King Assar, has come to Pi-Bast.
The prince desired to tell Mentezufis the reason of Istubar's
coming, but he bit his lips and was silent.
The renowned Istubar, continued the priest, has brought documents
in virtue of which the worthy Sargon, a satrap, and a relative of King
Assar, remains with us as ambassador of that mighty sovereign.
The prince was near bursting into laughter. The seriousness with
which Mentezufis had thought fit to lay bare a small part of the
secrets long known to Ramses filled him with contempt and delight also.
This trickster, thought the prince, has not an inkling in his
heart that I know all their villainy.
The worthy Sargon and the revered Istubar, continued Mentezufis,
will go to Memphis to kiss the feet of his holiness. But first,
worthiness, thou, as viceroy, wilt be pleased to receive both these
dignitaries graciously, and their suite also.
Very willingly, answered the prince, and on that occasion I shall
ask them when Assyria will pay the arrears of tribute?
Wouldst Thou do that, worthiness? asked the priest, looking him in
the eyes.
That first of all; our treasury needs tribute.
Mentezufis rose suddenly from his seat, and said, in solemn though
lowered accents,
O viceroy of our lord, and giver of life, in the name of his
holiness I forbid thee to speak with anyone of tribute, but, above all,
with Sargon, Istubar, or any man of their suite.
The prince grew pale.
Priest, said he, standing up also, on what basis dost Thou speak
to me as a superior?
Mentezufis drew aside his robe, and took from his neck a chain on
which was one of the pharaoh's rings.
The viceroy looked at the ring, kissed it with devotion, returned it
to the priest, and answered,
I will fulfill the command of his holiness, my lord and father.
Again both sat down, and the prince asked the priest,
Canst Thou explain to me, worthiness, why Assyria should not pay us
tribute which would save the state treasury from embarrassment?
Because we have not the power to force Assyria to pay us tribute,
answered Mentezufis, coldly. We have an army of a hundred and twenty
thousand, Assyria has three hundred thousand warriors. I say this to
thee, worthiness, in perfect confidence, as to a high state official.
I understand. But why did the ministry of war, in which Thou
servest, decrease our valiant army sixty thousand men?
To increase the income of his holiness twenty thousand talents,
replied the priest.
Aha! Tell me, then, worthiness, continued the prince, with what
object is Sargon going to the feet of the pharaoh?
I know not.
Aha! But why should I not know, I, who am heir to the throne?
Because there are state secrets which barely a few dignitaries
know.
And which even my most worthy father may not know?
Assuredly he may not, for there are things which even his holiness
may not know, since he does not possess the highest priestly
consecration.
It is wonderful! said the prince, after some thought. Egypt is
the property of the pharaoh, and still things may be done in it which
are unknown to him. Explain this to me, worthiness.
Egypt is first of all, and even only and exclusively, the property
of Amon, said the priest. There is absolute need, therefore, that
only those should know the highest secrets to whom Amon has declared
his plans and purposes.
The prince, while listening, felt as if people were turning him on a
bed of dagger points under which fire was burning.
Mentezufis wished to rise; Ramses detained him.
One word more, said he, mildly. Is Egypt so weak that she cannot
even mention the Assyrian tribute?
He panted.
If Egypt is so wretched, continued he, then what assurance is
there that Assyria will not attack us?
We may assure ourselves by a treaty, answered the priest.
The heir waved his hand.
There are no treaties for the weak! said he. Silver tablets
inscribed with agreements will not guard boundaries unless spears and
swords stand behind them.
But who has told thee, worthiness, that they will not stand on our
land?
Thou thyself. One hundred and twenty thousand men must yield before
three hundred thousand. Were Assyrians to come here, Egypt would be
turned into a desert.
Mentezufis eyes flashed.
If they were to invade us, cried he, their bones would never
touch their own country! We should arm all the nobles, all the
regiments of laborers, even convicts in the quarries. We should take
the treasures from all temples. And Assyria would meet five hundred
thousand Egyptian warriors.
Ramses was delighted at this outburst of patriotism in Mentezufis.
He seized him by the hand, and said,
Then, if we are able to have such an army, why do we not attack
Babylon? Is not the great warrior Nitager imploring us for years to do
so? Is not his holiness alarmed by the movement in Assyria? If we let
them concentrate their forces, the struggle will be most difficult; but
if we begin ourselves.
The priest interrupted him,
Dost Thou know, prince, what a war is to which one must go through
a desert? Who will assure us that before we could reach the Euphrates
half our army and carriers would not perish from hardship?
That would be cured by one battle, interrupted Ramses.
A battle! repeated the priest. But does the prince know what a
battle is?
I hope so! replied the heir, striking his sword.
Mentezufis shrugged his shoulders.
But I say, lord, that Thou dost not know what a battle is; Thou
hast even an entirely false idea of it from maneuvers at which Thou
hast always been the victor, though more than once Thou shouldst have
been conquered.
The prince frowned. The priest put his hand beneath his robe, and
said quickly,
Guess what I have in my hand, worthiness.
What? repeated Ramses, with astonishment.
Guess quickly and truly, insisted the priest, for if Thou art
mistaken two of thy regiments perish.
Thou hast a ring, said the heir, who had grown joyous.
Mentezufis opened his hand; there was a bit of papyrus in it.
But what have I now? asked the priest again.
A ring.
Well, not a ring, but an amulet of the divine Hator. Dost see,
lord, that is a battle? In time of battle Fate holds out her hand every
moment, and commands us to guess at the very quickest the surprise
enclosed in it. We succeed, or we fail; but woe to the man who fails
oftener than he guesses; and a hundredfold more to those on whom Fate
turns her back and forces into blunders.
But still I believe, and I feel here, cried the heir, striking his
breast, that Assyria must be trampled.
Oh, that the god Amon might speak through thy mouth, said
Mentezufis. What Thou sayst is true; Assyria will be humbled, perhaps
even with thy hands, but not immediately not immediately.
The priest took farewell; Ramses remained alone. In his head and his
heart raged a hurricane.
So Hiram was right in saying that they deceive us, thought he. I
am certain now that our priests have made a treaty with the Chaldeans
which his holiness will be forced to sanction. Has anyone ever heard of
a thing so monstrous? He, the lord of the living, and of the western
world, must sign a treaty invented by intriguers!
Breath failed him.
The holy Mentezufis has betrayed himself. It is true, then, that in
case of need Egypt can put forth an army of half a million? I did not
even dream of such forces. Still they think that I fear their fables
about fate, which commands us to solve riddles. Only let me have two
hundred thousand men, trained like Greek and Libyan regiments, and I
would undertake to solve all riddles on earth and in the heavens.
That is a hot head, thought the worthy Mentezufis, while returning
to his cell, a woman hunter, an adventurer, but strong. After the weak
pharaoh of today he reminds us rather of Ramses the Great. In ten years
the stars may change; he will ripen and crush Assyria. Of Nineveh there
will remain only ruins, sacred Babylon will find its true place, and
the one supreme God, the God of Egyptian and Chaldean prophets, will
reign from the Libyan desert to the sacred Ganges.
If our youth would not make himself ridiculous by night pilgrimages
to the Phoenician priestess; if he should be seen in the garden of
Astaroth, or if people should think that the erpatr was inclining his
ear to the faith of Phoenicia. Not much is needed in Lower Egypt to
reject the ancient gods. What a mixture there is of nations here!
Some days later the worthy Sargon informed the viceroy officially of
his position as ambassador, declared the wish to salute him, and begged
for an Egyptian escort which might conduct him with all safety and
honor to the feet of the pharaoh.
The prince deferred his answer two days, and appointed an audience
to Sargon at the expiration of two other days. The Assyrian, accustomed
to eastern delay in journeys and business, was offended in no way, and
wasted no time. He drank from morning till evening, played dice with
Hiram and other rich men from Asia. In free moments he slipped away,
like Ramses, to Kama.
As an elderly and a practical man, he offered the priestess rich
presents at every visit. His feelings he explained as follows:
O Kama, why sit in Pi-Bast and grow thin here? While young, the
service of Astaroth may please thee; but when old, a wretched fate will
present itself. They will take thy costly robes from thee, and put a
younger woman in the temple; Thou wilt earn, then, a handful of roasted
barley by telling fortunes, or by nursing women in childbirth. Had the
gods in punishment created me a woman, I should choose to be the mother
and not the nurse attending her.
Hence I say, continued Sargon, leave the temple and join my
household. I will give thee ten talents in gold; I will give forty
cows, and of wheat a hundred measures. The priests will fear
chastisement from the gods, so as to gain from me a better bargain. But
I shall not yield a drachma; I may add, at most, a few sheep to let
them celebrate a solemn service. The heavenly Astaroth will appear
then, and will free thee from vows if I add a gold chain or a goblet.
While listening to these statements Kama bit her lips to restrain
laughter; and he continued,
If Thou go with me to Nineveh, Thou wilt be a great lady. Thou
shalt have a palace; I will give thee also horses, a litter, slaves,
and servants. In one month Thou wilt pour out on thy person more
perfume than Thou offerest here in one year to thy goddess. And who
knows, concluded he, Thou mayst please King Assar; if so, he would
take thee to his palace. Thou wouldst be the happiest of women, and I
should get back what I had spent on thee.
At the palace of the heir, on the day appointed to receive Sargon,
Egyptian troops were drawn up, and a throng of people were standing
near, eager for spectacles.
The Assyrian retinue appeared about midday, the hour when heat is
greatest. In front inarched policemen armed with swords and sticks;
behind them a number of naked swift runners, and three horses. Those
were trumpeters and a herald. At the corner of each street the
trumpeters sounded a signal, and the herald called in a loud voice:
Behold, Sargon is approaching; the ambassador of the mighty Assar, a
relative of the king, a lord of immense wealth, a conqueror in battles,
a ruler of provinces. Give him, O people, due homage as a friend of the
ruler of Egypt!
After the trumpeters rode Assyrian cavalry, with pointed caps, in
narrow skirts and jackets. Their shaggy and enduring horses had on
their foreheads and breasts bronze armor patterned as fish-scales. Next
appeared infantry in helmets, and long mantles reaching the earth. One
division was armed with heavy clubs, the next with bows, the third with
spears and shields. Each man had, besides, a sword, and was armored.
After the soldiers came Sargon's horses, chariots, and litters,
surrounded by servants in white, red, and green garments. After them
came five elephants with litters on their backs; on one rode Sargon, on
another the Chaldean priest Istubar.
The procession was closed by warriors on horseback and on foot, and
by harsh Assyrian music, produced by trumpets, drums, metallic plates,
and pipes squealing shrilly.
Prince Ramses, surrounded by priests, nobility, and officers,
dressed in various colors, and richly, was awaiting the ambassador in
the great hall of audience, which was open on all sides. The heir was
gladsome, knowing that the Assyrians were bringing gifts which, in the
eyes of Egyptians, might pass as tribute. But when he heard the immense
voice of a herald in the court praising the might of Sargon, he
frowned. When the expression flew to his ears, that King Assar was the
friend of the pharaoh, he grew angry. His nostrils dilated like those
of an angry bull, and sparks flashed in his eyeballs. Seeing this, the
officers and nobility began to assume threatening faces, and put hands
to their sword-hilts. The holy Mentezufis noted their looks, and cried,
In the name of his holiness, I command nobles and officers to
receive the worthy Sargon with the respect due a great king's
ambassador!
The heir frowned, and strode impatiently along the raised platform
where his viceregal chair was standing. But the disciplined officers
and the nobles grew silent, knowing that they could not trifle with the
assistant of the war minister.
Meanwhile, in the court the immense and heavily armed Assyrian
warriors stood in three ranks, opposite the half naked and slender
warriors of Egypt. The two sides looked at each other like a band of
tigers at a herd of rhinoceroses. In the hearts of each ancient hatred
was smoldering. But command towered above hatred.
At that moment the elephants entered, the Egyptian and Assyrian
trumpets roared, the troops of both armies raised their weapons, the
people fell on their faces, while the Assyrian dignitaries, Sargon and
Istubar, were descending from their litters.
In the hall Prince Ramses sat on an elevated chair beneath a
baldachin, while at the entrance door appeared the herald.
Most worthy lord, said he, turning to the heir, the ambassador of
the great King Assar, the renowned Sargon, and his associate, the pious
prophet Istubar, desire to salute thee and render thee honor as viceroy
and heir to the pharaoh, may he live through eternity!
Ask those dignitaries to enter and comfort my heart by the sight of
their persons, answered the viceroy.
Sargon entered the hall with a clattering and clinking. He was
dressed in a long green robe, thickly embroidered with gold. At his
side, in a snow-white mantle, walked the devout Istubar, and behind
them stately Assyrian lords carried gifts for the viceroy.
Sargon approached the elevation, and said in the Assyrian language,
which an interpreter repeated in Egyptian immediately,
I, Sargon, a leader, a satrap, and a relative of the most mighty
King Assar, come to salute thee, O viceroy of the most mighty pharaoh,
and in sign of eternal friendship I offer gifts to thee.
The heir rested his palms on his knees, and sat as motionless as the
statues of his ancestors.
Interpreter, said Sargon, hast Thou repeated badly to the prince
my kindly greeting?
Mentezufis, standing near the elevation, turned toward Ramses.
Prince, whispered he, the Lord Sargon is waiting for a gracious
answer.
Then answer him that I do not understand by what right he speaks to
me as if he were my equal in dignity.
Mentezufis was confused, which still more angered the prince, whose
lips began to tremble; and again his eyes flashed. But the Chaldean,
Istubar, understanding Egyptian, said quickly to Sargon,
Let us fall on our faces.
Why should I fall on my face? inquired the indignant Sargon.
Fall, unless Thou wish to lose the favor of King Assar, and perhaps
thy head also.
Thus speaking, Istubar lay on the floor at full length, and Sargon
next to him.
Why should I lie on my belly before that stripling? muttered
Sargon, indignantly.
Because he is viceroy, answered Istubar.
Have I not been viceroy of my lord?
But he will be king, and Thou wilt not.
What are the ambassadors of the most mighty King Assar discussing?
inquired the prince, now satisfied, of the interpreter.
This: whether they are to show thy worthiness the gifts intended
for the pharaoh, or only to give those sent to thee, replied the
dexterous interpreter.
I wish to see the gifts intended for his holiness my father, said
the prince, and I permit the ambassadors to rise.
Sargon rose, purple from rage or weariness, and sat down on the
floor cross-legged.
I knew not, said he, that I, a relative and an ambassador of the
great Assar, should be forced to wipe with my garments dust from the
pavement of an Egyptian viceroy.
Mentezufis knew Assyrian, and commanded, without asking Ramses, to
bring immediately two benches covered with cushions, on which sat at
once the panting Sargon and the calm Istubar.
When Sargon had puffed himself quiet, he gave command to produce a
great glass goblet, a steel sword, and to lead up before the entrance
two horses decked with gold housings. When his command was obeyed he
rose and, inclining, addressed Ramses,
My lord, King Assar sends thee, O prince, two wonderful horses, may
they bear thee only to victory! He sends also a goblet, may gladness
always flow to thy heart from it! and a sword the like of which Thou
wilt not find in the armory of the mightiest ruler.
He drew from its scabbard a rather long sword, shining like silver,
and bent it. The sword bent like a bow, and then sprang out straight
again.
A wonderful weapon, indeed, said Ramses.
If Thou permit, O viceroy, I will show thee another of its
qualities, said Sargon, who, with the chance to praise Assyrian arms,
which at that time were excellent, forgot his anger.
At his request one of the Egyptian officers unsheathed a bronze
sword and held it as if to attack. Then Sargon raised his steel blade,
struck and cut a slice from the weapon of the other man.
In the hall rose a murmur of astonishment, and an intense flush came
out on the face of Ramses.
That foreigner, thought he, took the bull from me in the circus,
he wishes to marry Kama, and now he shows a sword which cuts our blades
into shavings.
And he felt a still deeper hatred toward King Assar, toward all
Assyrians in general, and toward Sargon especially. But he endeavored
to command himself, and with politeness begged the envoy to show those
gifts intended for the pharaoh.
They brought immediately immense packs made of fragrant wood; from
one of these the higher Assyrian officials took articles, goblets,
pitchers, steel weapons, bows made of goat horns, gilded weapons, and
shields set with jewels.
But the most splendid gift was a model of King Assar's palace in
gold and silver. It looked like three edifices, the second smaller than
the first, the third smaller than the second; the second built upon the
first, the third upon the second. Each was surrounded thickly by
columns, and instead of a roof had a flat pavement. Each entrance was
guarded by lions or winged bulls with human heads. On both sides of the
stairs stood statues of vassals of the king, bearing gifts; on both
sides of the entrance were carved horses in various positions. Sargon
removed one wall of the model, and showed rich chambers filled with
priceless furniture. Special wonder was roused by the audience hall,
where were figures representing the king on a lofty throne, and near
him courtiers, warriors, and vassals giving homage.
The entire model was as long as twice the height of a man, and
almost as high as the height of one man. The Egyptians whispered that
that gift alone was worth a hundred and fifty talents.
When the packs were carried out, the heir invited the ambassadors
and their retinue to a feast, during which abundant gifts were bestowed
on the Assyrians. Ramses pushed his politeness so far that when one of
the women pleased Sargon the prince presented her to the ambassador, of
course with her consent and the permission of her mother.
The prince was polite and bountiful, but his face was still clouded.
And when Tutmosis asked him if King Assar had not a beautiful palace,
the prince answered,
Its ruins on the ashes of Nineveh would be more beautiful to my
eyes.
At that feast the Assyrians were very abstemious. Notwithstanding
the abundance of wine, they drank little, and did not shout greatly.
Sargon did not even once burst into loud laughter, though that was his
custom; he cast down his eyes and thought deeply.
But the two priests Istubar, the Chaldean, and Mentezufis, the
Egyptian were calm, like men to whom the future is known, and who
command it.
CHAPTER XXXVI
AFTER his reception by the viceroy, Sargon delayed at Pi-Bast,
waiting for letters from the pharaoh at Memphis. Meanwhile strange
reports began to circulate among officers and nobles.
The Phoenicians told, of course as the greatest secret, that the
priests, it was unknown for what reason, not only forgave the Assyrians
the unpaid tribute, not only freed them once and for all time from
paying it, but, besides, to facilitate some northern war for the
Assyrians, had concluded a treaty of peace for many years with them.
The pharaoh, said the Phoenicians, on learning of these
concessions to Assyria fell very ill. Prince Ramses is troubled, and
goes around grief-stricken. But both must give way to the priests, for
they are not sure of the nobles and the army.
This enraged the Egyptian aristocracy.
Is it possible? whispered magnates who were in debt. Does the
dynasty not trust us? Have the priests undertaken to disgrace and ruin
Egypt? For it is clear that if Assyria has a war in the distant north
somewhere, now is just the time to attack her and fill the reduced
treasury of the pharaoh and the aristocracy with plunder.
One and another of the young lords made bold to ask the prince what
he thought of Assyrians. Ramses was silent, but the gleam in his eyes
and his fixed lips expressed his feelings sufficiently.
It is clear, whispered the lords, later on, that this dynasty is
bound by the priesthood. It yields not its confidence to nobles; great
misfortunes are threatening Egypt.
Silent anger was soon turned into secret councils, which had even
the semblance of conspiracy. Though many persons took part in this
action, the priests were self-confident, or knew nothing of this in
their blindness; and Sargon, though he felt the existing hatred, did
not attach to it importance. He learned that Prince Ramses disliked
him, but that he attributed to the event in the arena, and to his
jealousy in the affair of the priestess. Confident, however, in his
position as ambassador, he drank, feasted, and slipped away almost
every evening to Kama, who received with increasing favor his courting
and his presents.
Such was the condition of mind in the higher circles, when on a
certain night the holy Mentezufis rushed to the prince's dwelling, and
declared that he must see the viceroy immediately.
The courtiers answered that one of his women was visiting their
lord, and that they would not disturb him. But when Mentezufis insisted
with increasing emphasis, they called out Ramses.
The prince appeared after a time, and was not even angry.
What is this? asked he of the priest. Are we at war, that Thou
takest the trouble to visit me at an hour like the present?
Mentezufis looked diligently at the prince, and sighed deeply.
Has the prince not gone out all the evening? inquired he.
Not a step.
Can I give a priest's word for this?
The heir was astonished.
It seems to me, answered he, haughtily, that thy word is not
needed, since I have given mine. What does this mean?
They withdrew to a special chamber.
Dost Thou know, lord, asked the excited priest, what has
happened, perhaps an hour since? Some young men attacked the worthy
Sargon and clubbed him.
Who were they? Where did this happen?
At the villa of a Phoenician priestess named Kama, answered
Mentezufis, watching the face of the heir sharply.
Daring fellows, said the prince, shrugging his shoulders, to
attack such a stalwart man! I suppose that more than one bone was
broken in that struggle.
But to attack an ambassador! Consider, worthy lord, an ambassador
protected by the majesty of Assyria and Egypt, said the priest.
Ho! ho! laughed the prince. Then King Assar sends ambassadors
even to Phoenician dancers?
Mentezufis was confused. All at once he tapped his forehead, and
cried out also, with laughter,
See, prince, what a simple man I am, unfamiliar with ceremonies. I
forgot that Sargon, strolling about in the night near the house of a
suspected woman, is not an ambassador, but an ordinary person.
After a while he added,
In every case something evil has happened. Sargon may conceive a
dislike for us.
Priest! O priest! cried Ramses, shaking his head. Thou hast
forgotten this, a thing of much more importance, that Egypt has no need
to fear or even care for the good or bad feeling toward her, not merely
of Sargon, but King Assar.
Mentezufis was so confused by the appositeness of the remark, that,
instead of an answer, he bowed, muttering,
Prince, the gods have given thee the wisdom of high priests, may
their names be blessed! I wanted to issue an order to search for these
insolents, but now I prefer to follow thy advice, for Thou art a sage
above sages. Tell me, therefore, lord, what I am to do with Sargon and
those turbulent young people.
First of all, wait till morning. As a priest, Thou knowest best
that divine sleep often brings good counsel.
But if before morning I think out nothing?
I will visit Sargon in every case, and try to efface that little
accident from his memory.
The priest took farewell of Ramses with marks of respect. On the way
home, he pondered.
I will let the heart be torn out of my breast, thought he, if the
prince had to do with that business. He neither beat Sargon, nor
persuaded another to beat him; he did not even know of the incident.
Whoso judges an affair with such coolness and so pointedly cannot be a
confederate. In that case I can begin an investigation, and if we do
not mollify the shaggy barbarian I will deliver the disturbers to
justice. Beautiful treaty of friendship between two states, which
begins by insulting the ambassador!
Next morning the lordly Sargon lay on his felt couch till midday. He
lay thus rather frequently, however, that is, after each drinking-feast. Near him, on a low divan, sat the devout Istubar, with eyes
fixed on the ceiling, while muttering a prayer.
Istubar, sighed the dignitary, art Thou sure that no man of our
court knows of my misfortune?
Who could know, if Thou hast seen no one?
But the Egyptians! groaned Sargon.
Of the Egyptians Mentezufis and the prince know, yes, and those
madmen who surely will remember thy fists for a long time.
They may they may; but it seems to me that the heir was among them,
and that his nose is crushed, if not broken.
The heir has a sound nose, and he was not there, I assure thee.
In that case, sighed Sargon, the prince should impale a good
number of those rioters on stakes. I am an ambassador; my person is
sacred.
But I tell thee, counseled Istubar, to cast anger from thy heart,
and not to complain even; for if those rioters are arraigned before a
court, the whole world will learn that the ambassador of the most
worthy King Assar goes about among Phoenicians, and, what is worse,
visits them alone during night hours. What wilt Thou answer if thy
mortal enemy, the chancellor Lik-Bagus, asks thee, 'Sargon, what
Phoenicians didst Thou see, and of what was thy discourse with them at
night, outside their temple '?
Sargon sighed, if sounds like the growling of a lion are to be
called sighs.
That moment one of the Assyrian officers rushed in. He knelt down,
struck the pavement with his forehead, and said to Sargon,
Light of our lord's eyes! There is a crowd of magnates and
dignitaries of Egypt before the entrance, and at the head of them the
heir himself, with the evident intention of giving thee homage.
But before Sargon could utter a command, the prince was in the door
of the chamber. He pushed the gigantic watch aside, and approached the
felts quickly, while the confused ambassador, with widely opened eyes,
knew not what to do, to flee naked to another chamber, or hide beneath
the covers.
On the threshold stood a number of Assyrian officers, astonished at
the invasion of the heir in opposition to every etiquette. But Istubar
made a sign to them, and they vanished.
The prince was alone; he had left his suite in the courtyard.
Be greeted, O ambassador of a great king, and guest of the pharaoh.
I have come to visit thee and inquire if Thou hast need of anything,
also to learn if time and desire will permit thee to ride in my company
on a horse from my father's stables, surrounded by our suites in a
manner becoming an ambassador of the mighty Assar, may he live through
eternity!
Sargon listened as he lay there, without understanding a syllable.
But when Istubar interpreted the words of the Egyptian viceroy, the
ambassador felt such delight that he beat his head against the couch,
repeating the names Ramses and Assar.
When he had calmed himself, and made excuses for the wretched state
in which so worthy and famous a guest had found him, he added,
Do not take it ill, O lord, that an earthworm and a support of the
throne, as I am, show delight in a manner so unusual. But I am doubly
pleased at thy coming; first, because such a super-terrestrial honor
has come to me; second, because in my dull and worthless heart I
thought that thou, O lord, wert the author of my misfortune. It seemed
to me that among the sticks which fell on my shoulders I felt thine,
which struck, indeed, vigorously.
The calm Istubar interpreted phrase after phrase to the prince. To
this the heir, with genuine kingly dignity, answered,
Thou wert mistaken, O Sargon. If Thou thyself hadst not confessed
the error, I should command to count out fifty blows of a stick to
thee, so that Thou shouldst remember that persons like me do not attack
one man with a crowd, or in the night-time.
Before the serene Istubar could finish the interpretation of this
speech, Sargon had crawled up to the prince and embraced his legs
earnestly.
A great lord! a great king! cried he. Glory to Egypt, that has
such a ruler.
To this the prince answered,
I will say more, Sargon. If an attack was made on thee yesterday, I
assure thee that no one of my courtiers made it. For I judge that a man
of such strength as Thou art must have broken more than one skull. But
my attendants are unharmed, every man of them.
He has told truth, and spoken wisely, whispered Sargon to Istubar.
But though, continued the prince, this evil deed has happened,
not through my fault, or through that of my attendants, I feel bound to
decrease thy dissatisfaction with a city in which Thou wert met so
unworthily; hence I have visited thy bedchamber; hence I open to thee
thy house at all times, as often as them mayst wish to visit it, and I
beg thee to accept this small gift from me.
The prince drew forth from his tunic a chain set with rubies and
sapphires.
The gigantic Sargon shed tears; this moved the prince but did not
affect the indifference of Istubar. The priest saw that Sargon had
tears, joy, or anger, at call, as befitted the ambassador of a king
full of wisdom.
The viceroy sat a moment longer, and then took farewell of Sargon.
While going out, he thought that the Assyrians, though barbarians, were
not evil minded, since they knew how to respond to magnanimity.
Sargon was so touched that he gave order immediately to bring wine,
and he drank from midday till evening.
Some time after sunset the priest, Istubar, left Sargon's chamber
for a while; he returned soon, but through a concealed doorway. Behind
him appeared two men in dark mantles. When they had pushed their cowls
aside, Sargon recognized in one the high priest Mefres, in the other
Mentezufis the prophet.
We bring thee, worthy ambassador, good news, said Mefres.
May I be able to give you the like, cried the ambassador. Be
seated, holy and worthy fathers. And though I have reddened eyes, speak
to me as if I were in perfect soberness; for when I am drunk my mind is
improved even. Is this not true, Istubar?
Speak on, said the Chaldean.
Today, began Mentezufis, I have received a letter from the most
worthy minister Herhor. He writes that his holiness may he live through
eternity! awaits thy embassy at Memphis in his wonderful palace, and
that his holiness may he live through eternity! is well disposed to
make a treaty with Assyria.
Sargon tottered on his feet, but his eyes showed clear mental
action.
I will go, said he, to his holiness the pharaoh, may he live
through eternity! In the name of my lord I will put my seal on the
treaty, if it be written on bricks in cuneiform letters, for I do not
understand your writing. I will lie even all day on my belly before his
holiness, and will sign the treaty. But how will ye carry it out, ha!
ha! ha! that I know not, concluded he, with rude laughter.
How darest thou, O servant of the great Assar, doubt the good-will
and faith of our ruler? inquired Mentezufis.
Sargon grew a little sobered.
I do not speak of his holiness, replied he, but of the heir to
the throne of Egypt.
He is a young man full of wisdom, who will carry out the will of
his father and the supreme council without hesitation, answered
Mefres.
Ha! ha! ha! laughed the drunken barbarian again. Your prince O
gods, put my joints out if I speak an untruth, when I say that I should
wish Assyria to have such an heir as he is. Our Assyrian heir is a
sage, a priest. He, before going to war, looks first at the stars in
the sky; afterward he looks under hens' tails. But yours would examine
to see how many troops he had; he would learn where the enemy was
camping, and fall on him as an eagle on a lamb. He is a leader, he is a
king! He is not of those who obey priestly counsels. He will take
counsel with his own sword, and ye will have to carry out what he
orders. Therefore, though I sign a treaty, I shall tell my lord that
behind the sick pharaoh and the wise priests there is in Egypt a young
heir to the throne who is a lion and a bull in one person, a man on
whose lips there is honey, but in whose heart lies a thunderbolt.
And Thou wilt tell an untruth, interrupted Mentezufis. For our
prince, though impulsive and riotous somewhat, as is usual with young
people, knows how to respect both the counsel of sages and the highest
institutions of the country.
O ye sages learned in letters, ye who know the circuits of the
stars! said Sargon, jeering. I am a simple commander of troops, who
without my seal would not always be able to scratch off my signature.
Ye are sages, I am unlearned; but by the beard of my king, I would not
change what I know for your wisdom. Ye are men to whom the world of
papyrus and brick is laid bare; but the real world in which men live is
closed to you. I am unlearned, but I have the sniff of a dog; and, as a
dog sniffs a bear from a distance; so I with reddened nose sniff a
hero.
Ye will give counsel to the prince! But ye are charmed by him
already, as a dove is by a serpent. I, at least, do not deceive myself;
and, though the prince is as kind to me as my own father, I feel
through my skin that he hates me and my Assyrians as a tiger hates an
elephant. Ha! ha! Only give him an army, and in three months he would
be at Nineveh, if soldiers would rise up to him in the desert instead
of falling down and dying.
Even though Thou wert speaking truth, interrupted Mentezufis,
even if the prince wished to go to Nineveh, he will not go.
But who will detain him when he is the pharaoh?
We.
Ye? ye? Ha! ha! ha! laughed Sargon. Ye think always that that
young man does not feel this treaty. But I but I ha! ha! ha! I will let
the skin be torn from me, and my body be impaled if he does not know
everything.
Would the Phoenicians be so quiet if they possessed not the
certainty that your young lion of Egypt would shield them before the
bull of Assyria?
Mentezufis and Mefres looked at each other stealthily. The genius of
the barbarian almost terrified them; he had given bold utterance to
that which they had not thought of. What would the result be, indeed,
if the heir had divined their plans and wished to cross them?
But Istubar, silent thus far, rescued them from momentary trouble.
Sargon, said he, Thou art interfering in affairs not thy own. Thy
duty is to conclude with Egypt a treaty of the kind that our lord
wishes. But what the heir knows or does not know, what he will do or
will not do, is not thy affair, since the supreme, eternally existent
priestly council assures us that the treaty will be executed. In what
way it will be executed is not a question for our heads.
The dry tone with which Istubar declared this calmed the riotous joy
of the ambassador. He nodded and muttered,
A pity for the man in that case! He is a grand warrior, and
magnanimous.
CHAPTER XXXVII
AFTER their visit to Sargon the two holy men, Mentezufis and Mefres,
when they had concealed themselves carefully with their burnouses,
returned home, meditating deeply.
Who knows, said Mentezufis, that the view of that drunken Sargon
concerning our prince is not the right one?
In that case Istubar's view is still more correct, answered
Mefres, decidedly.
Still, let us not be too hasty. We should examine the prince
first, remarked Mentezufis.
Let us do so.
In fact, both priests went to the heir next morning with very
serious faces, and asked for a confidential talk with him.
What has happened? inquired the prince. Has his worthiness Sargon
gone on some new night embassy?
Alas! the question for us is not of Sargon, answered Mefres. But
reports are current among people that thou, most worthy lord, art
maintaining relations continually with unbelieving Phoenicians.
From these words the prince divined why the two prophets had made
the visit, and the blood boiled in him. But he saw at once that this
was the beginning of a play between the priests and him, and, as became
the son of a pharaoh, he mastered himself in one instant. His face
assumed an expression of innocent curiosity.
The Phoenicians are dangerous, born enemies of Egypt, said Mefres.
The heir smiled.
Holy fathers, if ye would lend me money, and if ye had beautiful
maidens in your temples, I should see you oftener. But as things are, I
must be friendly with Phoenicians.
Men say, Erpatr, that Thou dost visit that Phoenician woman during
night hours.
I must till the girl gains wit and moves to my house. But have no
fear, I go with a sword; and if any man should bar the way to me.
But through that Phoenician woman Thou hast conceived repulsion for
King Assar's envoy.
Not through her by any means, but because Sargon smells of tallow.
But whither does this lead? Ye, holy fathers, are not overseers of my
women; I think that the worthy Sargon has not committed his to you.
What is your desire?
Mefres was so confused that blushes appeared on his shaven forehead.
It is true, worthiness, answered he, thy love affairs and the
methods therein do not pertain to us. But there is a worse thing,
people are astonished that the cunning Hiram lent thee a hundred
talents with such readiness, even without a pledge.
The prince's lips quivered, but again he answered quietly,
It is no fault of mine that Hiram has more trust in my words than
have rich Egyptians! He knows that I would rather yield the arms which
I inherit from my grandfather than fail to pay the money due him. It
seems to me that he must be at rest concerning interest, since he has
not mentioned it. I do not think of hiding from you, holy fathers, that
the Phoenicians are more dexterous than Egyptians. Our wealthy men
would make some faces before lending me one hundred talents; they would
groan, make me wait a month, and at last demand immense pledges and a
high rate of interest. But Phoenicians know the hearts of princes
better; they give us money even without a judge or witnesses.
The high priest was so irritated by this quiet banter that he
pressed his lips together and was silent. Mentezufis rescued him by
asking quickly,
What wouldst Thou say, worthiness, were we to make a treaty with
Assyria, yielding northern Asia and Phoenicia?
While asking this question, he had his eyes fixed on the face of the
heir. But Ramses answered him with perfect calmness,
I should say that only traitors could persuade the pharaoh to make
such a treaty.
Both priests started up. Mefres raised his hands; Mentezufis
clinched his fist.
But if danger to the state demanded it? insisted Mentezufis.
What do ye wish of me? burst out the prince. Ye interfere with my
debts and women, ye surround me with spies, ye dare reproach me, and
now ye give me some sort of traitorous queries. Now I will tell you: I,
if ye were to poison me, would not sign a treaty like the one ye
mention. Luckily that does not depend on me, but on his holiness, whose
will we must all obey.
What wouldst Thou do, then, wert Thou the pharaoh?
What the honor and the profit of the state demanded.
Of that I doubt not, said Mentezufis. But what dost Thou consider
the profit of the state? Where are we to look for indications?
Why is the supreme council in existence? asked Ramses, with
feigned auger this time. Ye say this council is made up of all the
great sages. In that case let them take on themselves responsibility
for a treaty which I should look on as a shame and as destruction.
Whence dost Thou know, worthiness, that thy godlike father would
not act in just such a manner?
Why ask me, then, of this matter? What investigation is this? Who
gives you the right to pry into my heart?
Ramses feigned to be so mightily indignant that the priests were
satisfied.
Thou speakest, prince, said Mefres, as becomes a good Egyptian.
Such a treaty would pain us, too; but danger to the state forces men to
yield temporarily to circumstances.
What forces you to yield? cried the prince. Have we lost a great
battle, or have we no army?
The oarsmen on the boat in which Egypt is sailing through the river
of eternity are gods, replied Mefres, with solemnity; but the
steersman is the Highest Lord of existence. The oarsmen stop
frequently, or turn the boat so as to avoid dangerous eddies which we
do not even notice. In such cases we need only patience and obedience,
for which, later or earlier, a liberal reward will meet us, surpassing
all that mortal man can imagine.
After this statement the priests took farewell. They were full of
hope that the prince, though angry because of the treaty, would not
break it, and would assure to Egypt the time of rest which she needed.
After their departure the prince called his adjutant. When alone with
Tutmosis, his long restrained auger and sorrow burst forth. He threw
himself on a couch; he writhed like a serpent, he struck his head with
his fists, and shed tears even.
The frightened Tutmosis waited till the access of rage had subsided;
then he gave Ramses wine and water, and fumed him with calming
perfumes; finally he sat near his lord and inquired the cause of this
unmanly outburst.
Sit here, said the prince, without rising. Knowest thou, I am
today convinced that our priests have concluded an infamous treaty with
Assyria; without war, without demands even from the other side! Canst
Thou imagine what we are losing?
Dagon told me that the Assyrians wished to take Phoenicia. But the
Phoenicians are now less alarmed, for King Assar has a war on the
northeastern boundaries. A very valiant and numerous people inhabit
that region; hence it is unknown what the end of this affair may be.
The Phoenicians will have peace for a couple of years in every case,
time in which to prepare defense and find allies.
The prince waved his hand impatiently.
See, said he, interrupting Tutmosis, even Phoenicia is arming her
own people, and perhaps all the neighbors who surround her; in every
case, we lose the unpaid tribute of Asia, which reaches hast Thou heard
the like? more than a hundred thousand talents.
A hundred thousand talents, repeated the prince. O gods! but such
a sum would fill the treasury of the pharaoh. And were we to attack
Assyria at the right season, in Nineveh alone, in the single palace of
Assar, we should find inexhaustible treasures. Think how many slaves we
could take, half a million a million, people of gigantic strength, and
so wild that captivity in Egypt with the hardest labor on canals or in
quarries would seem play to them. The fertility of the land would be
increased; in the course of a few years our people, now wretched, would
rest, and before the last Assyrian slave had died, the state would
regain its ancient might and well-being. And the priests are destroying
all this by the aid of a few silver tablets, and a few bricks marked
with arrow-headed signs understood by no Egyptian.
When he had heard the complaints of the prince, Tutmosis rose from
the armchair and looked carefully through the adjoining chambers to see
if some one in them were listening; then he sat down again near Ramses,
and whispered,
Be of good heart, lord. As far as I know, the entire aristocracy,
all the nomarchs, all the higher officers have heard something of this
treaty and are indignant. Only give the sign and we will break these
brick treaties on the head of Sargon, even on the head of King Assar.
But that would be rebellion against his holiness, replied the
prince, also in a whisper. Tutmosis put on a sad face.
I should not like, said he, to make thy heart bleed, but thy
father, who is equal to the highest god, has a grievous illness.
That is not true! said the prince, springing up. It is true; but
let not people see that Thou knowest this. His holiness is greatly
wearied by his stay on earth, and desires to leave it. But the priests
hold him back, and do not summon thee to Memphis, so that the treaty
with Assyria may be signed without opposition.
But they are traitors, traitors! whispered the enraged prince.
Therefore Thou wilt have no difficulty in breaking the treaty when
Thou shalt inherit power after thy father, may lie live through
eternity!
Ramses thought awhile.
It is easier, said he, to sign a treaty than to break it. It is
easy also to break a treaty, laughed Tutmosis. Are there not in Asia
unorganized races which attack our boundaries? Does not the godlike
Nitager stand on guard with his army to repulse them and carry war into
their countries? Dost Thou suppose that Egypt will not find armed men
and treasures for the war? We will go, all of us, for each man can gain
something, and in some way make his life independent. Treasures are
lying in the temples but the labyrinth.
Who will take them from the labyrinth? asked the prince,
doubtingly.
Who? Any nomarch, any officer, any noble will take them if he has a
command from the pharaoh, and the minor priests will show the way to
secret places.
They would not dare to do so. The punishment of the gods.
Tutmosis waved his hand contemptuously.
But are we slaves or shepherds, to fear gods whom Greeks and
Phoenicians revile, and whom any mercenary warrior will insult and go
unpunished?
The priests have invented silly tales about gods, tales to which
they themselves attach no credit. Thou knowest that they recognize only
the One in temples. They perform miracles, too, at which they laugh.
Only the lowest people strike the earth with their foreheads before
statues in the old way. Even working women have doubts now about the
all-might of Osiris, Set, and Horus; the scribes cheat the gods in
accounts, and the priests use them as a lock and chain to secure their
treasures.
Oho! continued Tutmosis; the clays have passed when all Egypt
believed in everything announced from temples. At present we insult the
Phoenician gods, the Phoenicians insult our gods, and no thunderbolt
strikes any man of us.
The viceroy looked carefully at Tutmosis.
How did such thoughts come to thy head? inquired he. But it is
not so long ago that Thou wouldst pale at the very mention of the
priesthood.
Yes, because I felt alone. But today, after I have seen that all
the nobles understand as I, I feel encouraged.
But who told thee and the nobles of that treaty with Assyria?
Dagon and other Phoenicians, answered Tutmosis. They even said
that when the time came they would rouse Asiatic races to rebellion, so
that our troops might have a pretext to cross the boundaries, and when
once on the road to Nineveh, the Phoenicians and their allies would
join us. And thy army would be larger than that which Ramses the Great
had behind him,
This zeal of the Phoenicians did not please the heir, but he was
silent on that subject.
But what will happen if the priests learn of your conversations?
inquired he. None of you will escape death, be sure of that.
They will learn nothing, replied Tutmosis, joyfully. They trust
too much in their power, they pay their spies badly, and have disgusted
all Egypt with their pride and rapacity. Moreover, the aristocracy, the
army, the scribes, the laborers, even the minor priests are only
waiting for the signal to attack the temples, take out the treasures,
and lay them at the feet of the pharaoh. When their treasures fail, all
their power will be lost to the holy fathers. They will cease even to
work miracles, for to work them gold rings are needed.
The prince turned conversation to other subjects and gave Tutmosis
the sign of withdrawal. When alone, he began to meditate.
He would have been enchanted at the hostile disposition of the
nobles toward the priests, and the warlike instincts of the higher
classes, if the enthusiasm had not broken out so suddenly, and if
Phoenicians were not concealed behind it. This enjoined caution, for he
understood that in the affairs of Egypt it was better to trust the
patriotism of priests than the friendship of Phoenicians. He recalled,
however, his father's words, that Phoenicians were truth-speaking and
faithful whenever truth was in their interest. Beyond doubt the
Phoenicians had a great interest in not falling under control of
Assyria. And it was possible to depend on them as allies in case of
war, for the defeat of Egypt would injure, first of all, Phoenicia.
On the other hand, Ramses did not admit that Egyptian priests, even
when concluding such a harmful treaty with Assyria, thought of treason.
No, they were not traitors, they were slothful dignitaries. Peace
agreed with them, for during peace their treasures grew, and they
increased their influence. They did not wish for war, since war would
raise the pharaoh's power, and impose on them a grievous outlay.
So the young prince, despite his inexperience, understood that be
must be cautious, that he must not hasten, that he must not condemn,
but also that he must not trust too much. He had decided on war with
Assyria, not because the nobles and the pharaoh desired it, but because
Egypt needed slaves and also treasures.
But in making war he wished to make it with judgment. He wished to
bring the priestly order to it gradually, and only in case of
opposition to crush that order through the nobles and the army.
And just when the holy Mefres and Mentezufis were jeering at the
predictions of Sargon, who said that the heir would not yield to the
priests but force them to obedience, the prince had a plan to subject
them. And he saw what power he possessed for that purpose. The moment
to begin the war and the means of waging it he left to the future.
Time will bring the best counsels, said he to himself.
He was calm and satisfied, like a man who after long hesitation
knows what he must do, and has faith in his own abilities. So then, to
free himself of even the traces of his recent indignation, he went to
Sarah. Amusement with his little son always calmed him, and filled his
heart with serenity.
He passed the garden, entered Sarah's villa, and found her in tears
again.
Oh, Sarah! cried he, if the Nile were in thy bosom Thou wouldst
weep it all away.
I will not weep any longer, said she; but a more abundant stream
flowed from her eyes.
What is this? asked the prince; or hast Thou brought in some
witch again who frightens thee with Phoenician women?
I am not afraid of Phoenician women, but of Phoenicia, said Sarah;
Thou knowest not, lord, what bad people the Phoenicians are.
Do they burn children? laughed Ramses.
Thou thinkest that they do not? asked she, looking at him with
great eyes.
A fable! I know, besides, from Prince Hiram, that that is a fable.
Hiram! cried Sarah, Hiram! but he is the most wicked of all! Ask
my father, and he will tell thee bow Hiram entices young girls of
distant countries to his ships, and raising the sails takes away the
unfortunates to sell them. Even we had a bright-haired slave girl
stolen by Hiram. She became insane from sorrow for her country. But she
could not even say where her country was; and she died. Such is Hiram,
such is that vile Dagon, and all those wretches.
Perhaps; but how does this concern us? inquired Ramses.
Very much. Thou, O lord, art listening to Phoenician counsels; but
our Jews have learned that Phoenicia wants to raise a war between Egypt
and Assyria. Even their first bankers and merchants have bound
themselves by dreadful oaths to raise it.
Why should they want war? inquired the prince, with apparent
indifference.
Because they will furnish arms to you and to Assyrians; they will
furnish, also, supplies and information, and for everything they
furnish they will make you pay ten prices. They will plunder the dead
and wounded of both armies. They will buy slaves from your warriors and
from the Assyrians. Is that little? Egypt and Assyria will ruin
themselves, but the Phoenicians will build up new storehouses with
wealth from both sides!
Who explained such wisdom to thee? asked the prince, smiling.
Do I not hear my father and our relatives and friends whispering of
this, while they look around in dread lest some one may hear what they
are saying? Besides, do I not know the Phoenicians? They lie prostrate
before thee, but Thou dost not note their deceitful looks; often have I
seen their eyes green with greed and yellow from anger. O lord, guard
thyself from Phoenicians as from venomous serpents.
Ramses looked at Sarah, and involuntarily he compared her sincere
love with the calculations of the Phoenician priestess, her outbursts
of tenderness with the treacherous coldness of Kama.
Indeed, thought he, the Phoenicians are poisonous reptiles. But
if Ramses the Great used a lion in war, why should I not use a serpent
against the enemies of Egypt?
And the more plastically he pictured to himself the perversity of
Kama, the more did he desire her. At times heroic souls seek out
danger.
He took farewell of Sarah, and suddenly, it is unknown for what
reason, he remembered that Sargon had suspected him of taking part in
the attack on his person.
The prince struck his forehead.
Did that second self of mine, thought he, arrange the attack on
the ambassador? But if he did, who persuaded him? Was it Phoenicians?
But if they wished to connect my person with such a vile business?
Sarah says, justly, that they are scoundrels against whom I should
guard myself always.
Straightway anger rose in him, and he determined to settle the
question. Since evening was just coming, Ramses, without going home,
went to Kama.
It concerned him little that he might be recognized; besides, in
case of need, he had a sword on his person.
There was light in the villa of the priestess, but there was no
servant at the entrance.
Thus far, thought he, Kama has sent away her servants when I was
to come. Had she a feeling that I would come today, or will she receive
a more fortunate lover?
He ascended one story, stood before the chamber of the priestess,
and pushed aside the curtain quickly. In the chamber were Kama and
Hiram; they were whispering.
Oh, I come at the wrong time! said Ramses, laughing. Well,
prince, art thou, too, paying court to a woman who cannot be gracious
to men unless death be the penalty?
Hiram and the priestess sprang from their seats.
Thou wert forewarned by some good spirit that we were speaking of
thee, that is clear, said the Phoenician, bowing.
Are ye preparing some surprise for me? inquired the heir.
Perhaps. Who can tell? answered Kama, with a challenging
expression.
May those who in future wish to surprise me not expose their own
necks to the axe or the halter; if they do, they will surprise
themselves more than me.
The smile grew cold on Kama's half-open lips; Hiram, now pale,
answered humbly,
How have we earned the anger of our lord and guardian?
I would know the truth, said Ramses, sitting down and looking
threateningly at Hiram. I would know who arranged an attack on the
Assyrian ambassador, and associated in that villainy a man resembling
me as much as my two hands resemble each other?
Seest, Kama, said the frightened Hiram, I told thee that intimacy
with that ruffian would bring great misfortune And here it is! We have
not waited long to see it.
The priestess fell at the prince's feet.
I will tell all, cried she, groaning; only cast from thy heart,
lord, anger against Phoenicians. Slay me, imprison me, but be not angry
at Phoenicians.
Who attacked Sargon?
Lykon, the Greek, who sings in our temples, said the priestess,
still kneeling.
Aha! it was he, then, who was singing outside thy house, and he
resembles me greatly?
Hiram bent his head and placed his hand on his heart.
We, lord, have paid that man bountifully because he is so like
thee. We thought that his figure might serve thee should the need
come.
And it has, interrupted the prince. Where is he? I wish to see
this perfect singer, this living picture of myself.
Hiram held his hands apart.
The scoundrel has fled, but we will find him, replied he, unless
he turns into a fly or an earthworm.
But Thou wilt forgive me, lord? whispered the priestess, leaning
on the knees of the prince.
Much is forgiven women, said Ramses.
And ye will not take vengeance on me? asked she of Hiram, with
fear.
Phoenicia, replied the old man, deliberately and with emphasis,
forgives the greatest offence to that person who possesses the favor
of our lord Ramses, may he live through eternity! As to Lykon, added
he, turning to the heir, Thou wilt have him, dead or living.
Hiram made a profound obeisance and went from the chamber, leaving
the prince with the priestess.
The blood rushed to Ramses' head; he embraced the kneeling Kama, and
asked,
Hast Thou heard the words of the worthy Hiram? Phoenicia forgives
thee the greatest offence! That man is faithful to me indeed. And if he
has said that, what answer wilt Thou find?
Kama kissed his hands, whispering,
Thou hast won me I am thy slave. But leave me in peace today,
respect the house which belongs to Astaroth.
Then Thou wilt remove to my palace? asked the prince.
O gods, what hast Thou said? Since the sun first rose and set, no
priestess of As But this is difficult! Phoenicia, lord, gives thee a
proof of attachment and honor such as no son of hers has received at
any time.
Then? interrupted the prince.
But not today, and not here, implored Kama.
CHAPTER XXXVIII,
LEARNING from Hiram that the Phoenicians had given him the
priestess, Ramses wished to have her in his house at the earliest, not
because he could not live without her, but because she had become for
him a novelty.
Kama delayed her coming; she implored the prince to leave her in
peace till the inflow of pilgrims diminished, and above all till the
most noted among them should go from Pi-Bast. Were she to become his
favorite during their presence, the income of the temple might decrease
and danger threaten the priestess.
Our sages and great men, said she to Ramses, would forgive me.
But the common people would call the vengeance of the gods on my head,
and thou, lord, knowest that the gods have long hands.
May they not lose these hands in thrusting them under my roof,
said Ramses.
But he did not insist greatly, as his attention was much occupied at
that juncture.
The Assyrian ambassadors, Sargon and Istubar, had gone to Memphis to
put their names to the treaty. At the same time the pharaoh had
summoned Ramses to give a report of his journey.
The prince commanded his scribes to write accurately of all that had
happened from the time of leaving Memphis; hence the review of
artisans, the visits to fields and factories, the conversations with
nomarchs and officials. To present the report he appointed Tutmosis.
Thou wilt be heart and lips for me before the face of the pharaoh,
said the prince to him, and this is what Thou must do there.
When the most worthy Herhor asks what, to my thinking, causes the
poverty of Egypt and the treasury, tell the minister to turn to his
assistant, Pentuer, and he will explain my views in the same way that
he did his own in the temple of Hator.
When Herhor wishes to know my opinion of a treaty with Assyria,
answer that my duty is to carry out the commands of my master.
Tutmosis nodded in sign that he comprehended.
But, continued the heir, when Thou shalt stand in the presence of
my father, may he live through eternity! and convince thyself that no
one is listening, fall at his feet in my name, and say,
Our lord, thy son and servant, the worthy Ramses, to whom Thou hast
given life and power, says the following,
'The cause of Egypt's suffering is the loss of fertile lands taken
by the desert, and the loss of men who die from want and hard labor.
But know, our lord, that the damage caused thy treasury by priests is
no less than that wrought by death and the desert; for not only are the
temples filled with gold and jewels, which would suffice to pay our
debts entirely, but the holy fathers and the prophets have the best
lands, the best slaves and laborers, and lands far greater in extent
than those of the divine pharaoh.
'Thy son and slave, Ramses, says this to thee, he who all the time
of his journey had his eyes open like a fish, and his ears set forward
like an ass which is watching.'.
The prince stopped. Tutmosis repeated the words mentally.
If, continued the viceroy, his holiness asks for my opinion of
the Assyrians, fall on thy face and answer,
'Thy servant Ramses, if Thou permit, makes bold to say that the
Assyrians are strong and large men, and have perfect weapons; but it is
evident that they have bad training. At the heels of Sargon marched the
best Assyrian warriors, archers, axemen, spearmen, and still there were
not six among them who could march in line warrior fashion. Besides
they carry their spears crookedly, their swords are badly hung, they
bear their axes like carpenters or butchers. Their clothing is heavy,
their rude sandals gall their feet, and their shields, though strong,
are of small use, for the men are awkward.
Thou speakest truth, said Tutmosis. I have noticed that, and I
have heard the same from Egyptian officers who declare that Assyrian
troops, like those which we saw here, would offer less resistance than
the hordes of Libya.
Say also to our lord, who gives us life, that all the nobles and
the Egyptian army are indignant at the mere report that Assyria might
annex Phoenicia. Why, Phoenicia is the port of Egypt, and the
Phoenicians the best warriors in our navy.
Say, besides, that I have heard from Phoenicians (of this his
holiness must know best of all) that Assyria is weak at the moment, for
she has a war on her northern and eastern boundaries; all western Asia
is arming against her. Should we attack today, we could win immense
wealth, and take multitudes of captives who would help our slaves in
their labor.
But say, in conclusion, that the wisdom of my father excels that of
all men, therefore I shall do whatsoever he commands, if only he gives
not Phoenicia to King Assar; if he gives it, we are ruined. Phoenicia
is the bronze door of our treasure-house, and where is the man who
would yield his door to a robber?
Tutmosis went to Memphis in the month Paofi (July and August).
The Nile was increasing mightily; hence the influx of Asiatic
pilgrims to the temple of Astaroth diminished. People of the place
betook themselves to the fields to gather with the utmost speed grapes,
flax, and a certain plant which furnished cotton.
In one word, the neighborhood grew quiet, and the gardens
surrounding the temples were almost deserted.
At that time Prince Ramses, relieved from amusements and the duties
of the state, turned to his love affair with Kama. On a certain day he
had a secret consultation with Hiram, who at his command gave the
temple of Astaroth twelve talents in gold, a statue of the goddess
wonderfully carved out of malachite, fifty cows and of wheat one
hundred and fifty measures. That was such a generous gift that the high
priest of the temple himself came to Ramses to fall prostrate and thank
him for the favor which, as he said, people who loved the goddess would
remember during all the ages.
Having settled with the temple, the prince summoned the chief of
police in Pi-Bast and passed a long hour with him. Because of this the
whole city was shaken some days later under the influence of
extraordinary tidings: Kama, the priestess of Astaroth, had been
seized, borne away and lost, like a grain of sand in a desert.
This unheard-of event occurred under the following conditions: The
high priest of the temple sent Kama to the town Sabne-Chetam at Lake
Menzaleh with offerings for the chapel of Astaroth in that place. To
avoid summer heat and secure herself against curiosity and the homage
of people, the priestess journeyed in a boat and during night hours.
Toward morning, when the three wearied rowers were dozing, boats manned
by Greeks and Hittites pushed out suddenly from among reeds at the
shore, surrounded the boat bearing Kama, and carried off the priestess.
The attack was so sudden that the Phoenician rowers made no resistance.
The strangers gagged Kama, evidently, for she remained silent. The
Greeks and Hittites after the sacrilege vanished in the reeds, to sail
toward the sea afterward. To prevent pursuit they sank the boat which
had borne the priestess.
Pi-Bast was as excited as a beehive. People talked of nothing else.
They even guessed who did the deed. Some suspected Sargon, who had
offered Kama the title of wife if she would leave the temple and remove
to Nineveh. Others suspected Lykon, the temple singer, who long had
burned with passion for the priestess. He was moreover rich enough to
hire Greek slaves, and so godless that he would not hesitate to snatch
away a priestess.
A Phoenician council of the richest and most faithful members was
summoned to the temple. The council resolved, first of all, to free
Kama from her duties as priestess and remove from her the curse against
a virgin who lost her innocence in the service of the goddess.
That was a wise and pious resolution, for if some one had carried
off the priestess and deprived her of sacredness against her will, it
would have been unjust to punish her.
A couple of days later they announced, with sound of trumpet, to
worshippers in the temple that the priestess Kama was dead, and if any
man should meet a woman seeming like her he would have no right to seek
revenge or even make reproaches. The priestess had not left the
goddess, but evil spirits had borne her off; for this they would be
punished.
That same day the worthy Hiram visited Ramses and gave him in a gold
tube a parchment furnished with a number of seals of priests and
signatures of Phoenician notables.
That was the decision of the spiritual court of Astaroth, which
released Kama from her vows and freed her from the curse if she would
renounce the name which she had borne while priestess.
The prince took this document and went after sundown to a certain
lone villa in his garden. He opened the door in some unknown way and
ascended one story to a room of medium dimensions, where by light from
a carved lamp in which fragrant olive oil was burning, he saw Kama.
At last! cried he, giving her the gold tube. Thou hast everything
according to thy wishes.
The Phoenician woman was feverish; her eyes flashed. She snatched
the tube, looked at it, and threw it on the floor.
Dost think this gold? asked she. I will bet my necklace that that
tube is copper, and only covered on both sides with thin strips of
gold.
Is that thy way of greeting me? inquired the astonished Ramses.
Yes, for I know my brethren, said she. They counterfeit not only
gold, but rubies and sapphires.
Woman, said the heir, in this tube is thy safety.
What is safety to me? I am wearied in this place, and I am afraid.
I have sat here four days as in prison.
Dost Thou lack anything?
I lack air, amusement, laughter, songs, people. O vengeful goddess,
how harshly Thou art punishing!
The prince listened with amazement. In that mad woman he could not
recognize the Kama whom he had seen in the temple, that woman over
whose person had floated the passionate song of the Greek Lykon.
Tomorrow, said the prince, Thou canst go to the garden; and when
we visit Memphis or Thebes, Thou wilt amuse thyself as never in thy
life before. Look at me. Do I not love thee, and is not the honor which
belongs to me enough for a woman?
Yes, answered she, pouting, but Thou hadst four women before me.
But if Hove thee best?
If Thou love me best, make me first, put me in the palace which
that Jewess Sarah occupies, and give a guard to me, not to her. Before
the statue of Astaroth I was first. Those who paid homage to the
goddess, when kneeling before her, looked at me. But here what? Troops
beat drums and sound flutes; officials cross their hands on their
breasts, and incline their heads before the house of the Jewess.
Before my first-born son, interrupted the prince, now impatient,
and he is no Jew.
He is a Jew! screamed Kama.
Ramses sprang up.
Art Thou mad? but quieting himself quickly, he added, Dost Thou
not know that my son cannot be a Jew
But I tell thee that he is a Jew! cried Kama, beating the table
with her fist. He is a Jew, just as his grandfather is, just as his
uncles are; and his name is Isaac.
What hast Thou said, Phoenician woman? Dost wish that I should turn
thee out?
Turn me out if a lie has gone from my lips. But if I have spoken
truth, turn out that woman with her brat and give me her palace. I wish
and deserve to be first in thy household. She deceives thee, reviles
thee. But, I for thy sake, have deserted my goddess and exposed myself
to her vengeance.
Give me proofs and the palace will be thine. No, that is false!
said Ramses. Sarah would not permit such a crime. My first-born son!
Isaac Isaac! cried Kama. Go to her, and convince thyself.
Ramses, half unconscious, ran out from Kama's house and turned
toward Sarah's villa. Though the night was starry, he lost his way and
wandered a certain time through the garden. The cool air sobered him;
he found the road to the villa and entered almost calmly.
Though the hour was late, they were awake there. Sarah with her own
hands was washing swaddling-clothes for her son, and the servants were
passing their time in eating, drinking, and music. When Ramses, pale
from emotion, stood on the threshold, Sarah cried out, but soon calmed
herself.
Be greeted, lord, said she, wiping her wet hands and bending to
his feet.
Sarah, what is the name of thy son? inquired he.
She seized her head in terror.
What is thy son's name? repeated he.
But Thou knowest, lord, that it is Seti, answered she, with a
voice almost inaudible.
Look me in the eyes.
O Jehovah! whispered Sarah.
Thou seest that Thou art lying. And now I will tell thee, my son,
the son of the heir to the throne of Egypt, is called Isaac and he is a
Jew a low Jew.
O God, O God of mercy! cried Sarah, throwing herself at his feet.
Ramses did not raise his head for an instant, but his face was gray.
I was forewarned, said he, not to take a Jewess to my house. I
was disgusted when I saw thy country place filled with Jews; but I kept
my disgust in subjection, for I trusted thee. But them, with thy Jews,
hast stolen my son from me, Thou child thief!
The priests commanded that he should become a Jew, whispered
Sarah, sobbing at the feet of Ramses.
The priests! What priests?
The most worthy Herhor, the most worthy Mefres. They said that it
must be so, that thy son would become the first king of the Jews.
The priests? Mefres? repeated the prince. King of the Jews? But I
have told thee that thy son would become the chief of my archers, my
secretary. I told thee this, and thou, wretched woman, didst think that
the title of king of the Jews was equal to that of my secretary and
archer. Mefres Herhor! Thanks to the gods that at last I understand
those dignitaries and know what fate they are preparing for my
descendants.
He thought awhile, gnawing his lips. Suddenly he called with a
powerful voice,
Hei, servants, warriors!
The room was filled in the twinkle of an eye. Sarah's serving-women
came in, the scribe and manager of the house, then the slaves; finally,
a few warriors with an officer.
Death! cried Sarah, with a piercing voice.
She rushed to the cradle, seized her son, and, standing in the
corner of the room, called out,
Kill me; but I will not yield my son!
Ramses smiled.
Centurion, said he to the officer, take that woman with her child
and conduct her to the building where my household slaves dwell. That
Jewess will not be mistress here; she is to be the servant of her who
takes this place.
And thou, steward, said he, turning to the official, see that the
Jewess does not forget, to-morrow morning, to wash the feet of her
mistress, who will come hither directly. If this serving-woman should
prove stubborn, she is to receive stripes at command of her mistress.
Conduct the woman to the servants' quarters.
The officer and steward approached Sarah, but stopped, as they dared
not touch her; but there was no need to do so.
Sarah wound a garment around the puling child, and left the room,
whispering,
O God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, have mercy on us!
She bowed low before the prince, and from her eyes tears flowed in
silence.
While she was still in the antechamber, Ramses heard her sweet
voice,
God of Abraham Isa.
When all was quiet, the viceroy called the officer and steward.
Go with torches to the house among the fig-trees.
I understand, replied the steward.
And conduct hither, immediately, the woman who dwells there.
It will be done.
Thenceforth that woman will be thy mistress and the mistress of
Sarah; the Jewess must wash the feet of her mistress every morning,
pour water to her, and hold a mirror before her. That is my will, my
command.
It shall be accomplished, said the steward.
And to-morrow morning Thou wilt tell me if the new servant is
stubborn.
When he had given these commands, he returned home; but he did not
sleep that night. He felt that without raising his voice for a moment
he had crushed Sarah, the wretched Jewess, who had dared to deceive
him. He had punished her as a king who with one movement of the eye
dashes people down from heights into the abyss of servitude. But Sarah
was merely an instrument of the priests, and the heir had too great a
feeling of justice to forgive the real authors when he had broken the
instrument.
His rage was intensified all the more because the priests were
unassailable. He might send out Sarah with her child in the middle of
the night to the servants' house, but he could not deprive Herhor of
his power, nor Mefres of the high priesthood. Sarah had fallen at his
feet, like a trampled worm; but Herhor and Mefres, who had snatched his
first-born from him, towered above Egypt, and, oh, shame! above him,
the corning pharaoh, like pyramids.
And he could not tell how often in that year he had recalled the
wrongs which priests had inflicted. At school they had beaten him with
sticks till his back was swollen, or had tortured him with hunger till
his stomach and spine had grown together. At the maneuvers of the year
past, Herhor spoiled his whole plan, then put the blame on him, and
took away the command of an army corps. That same Herhor drew on Mm the
displeasure of his holiness because he had taken Sarah to his house,
and did not restore him to honor till the humiliated prince had passed
a couple of months in a voluntary exile.
It would seem that when he had been leader of a corps and was
viceroy the priests would cease tormenting him with their guardianship.
But just then they appeared with redoubled energy. They had made him
viceroy; for what purpose? to remove him from the pharaoh, and conclude
a shameful treaty with Assyria. They had used force in such form that
he betook himself to the temple as a penitent to obtain information
concerning the condition of the state; there they deceived him through
miracles and terrors, and gave thoroughly false explanations.
Next they interfered with his amusements, his women, his relations
with the pharaoh, his debts, and, finally, to humiliate and render him
ridiculous in the eyes of Egyptians, they made his first-born a Hebrew.
Where was the laborer, where the slave, where an Egyptian convict in
the quarries who had not the right to say, I am better than thou, the
viceroy, for no son of mine is a Hebrew.
Feeling the weight of the insult, Ramses understood at the same time
that he could not avenge himself immediately. Hence he determined to
defer that affair to the future. In the school of the priests he had
learned self-command, in the court he had learned deceit and patience;
those qualities became a weapon and a shield to him in his battle with
the priesthood. Till he was ready he would lead them into error, and
when the moment came he would strike so hard that they would never rise
again.
It began to dawn. The heir fell asleep, and when he woke the first
person he saw was the steward of Sarah's villa.
What of the Jewess? asked the prince.
According to thy command, worthiness, she washed the feet of her
new mistress, answered the official.
Was she stubborn?
She was full of humility, but not adroit enough; so the angry lady
struck the Jewess with her foot between the eyebrows.
The prince sprang up.
And what did Sarah do? inquired he, quickly.
She fell to the pavement. And when the new mistress commanded her
to go, she went out, weeping noiselessly.
The prince walked up and down in the chamber.
How did she pass the night?
The new lady?
No! I ask about Sarah.
According to command, Sarah went with her child to the servants'
house. The women, from compassion, yielded a fresh mat to her, but she
did not lie down to sleep; she sat the whole night with her child on
her knees.
But how is the child? asked Ramses.
The child is well. This morning, when the Jewess went to serve her
new mistress, the other women bathed the little one in warm water, and
the shepherd's wife, who also has an infant, gave her breast to it.
The prince stopped before the steward.
It is wrong, said he, when a cow instead of suckling its calf
goes to the plough and is beaten. Though this Jewess has committed a
great offence, I do not wish that her innocent child should be a
sufferer. Therefore Sarah will not wash the feet of the new lady again,
and will not be kicked between the eyes by her a second time. Thou wilt
set aside for her use in the servants' house a room with food and
furniture such as are proper for a woman recovered recently from
childbirth. And let her nourish her infant in peace there.
Live Thou through eternity, our ruler! answered the steward; and
he ran quickly to carry out the commands of the viceroy.
All the servants loved Sarah, and in a few days they had occasion to
hate the angry and turbulent Kama.
CHAPTER XXXIX
THE priestess brought little happiness to the viceroy. When he came
the first time to visit her in the villa occupied recently by Sarah, he
thought: I shall be met with delight now and gratitude.
Meanwhile Kama received him almost with anger.
What is this? cried she. A half day has passed, and that wretched
Jewess is restored to thy favor.
Does she not dwell in the servants' house? asked the prince.
But my steward says that she will wash my feet no longer.
When the prince heard this, a feeling of disgust seized him.
Thou art not satisfied, I see, said he.
I shall not be satisfied till I humiliate that Jewess, cried Kama,
till she, by serving me and kneeling at my feet, forgets that she was
once thy first woman and the mistress of this villa. I shall not be
satisfied till my servants cease to look at me with fear and without
confidence, and on her with compassion.
The Phoenician woman was less and less pleasing to Ramses.
Kama, said he, consider what I tell thee: If a servant here were
to kick in the teeth a female dog that was suckling its young, I should
hunt that servant out of this villa. Thou hast struck with thy foot
between the eyes a woman and a mother. In Egypt mother is a great word.
A good Egyptian reverences three things beyond all others, the gods,
the pharaoh, and his own mother.
Oh, woe to me! cried Kama, throwing herself on the couch. Here is
my reward, wretched woman, for denying my goddess. One week ago men
placed flowers at my feet and burnt incense before me, but today.
The prince walked out of the chamber quietly, and saw the priestess
again only after some days had passed.
But she was still in evil humor.
I implore thee, lord, cried she, think a little more of me. My
servants even begin to contemn me, the warriors look at me with a
frown, and I am afraid that some one in the kitchen may poison the food
prepared for me.
I was occupied with the army, so I could not visit thee, replied
the viceroy.
That is untrue, answered Kama, in anger. Yesterday Thou wert
outside the entrance to this house, and then Thou didst go to the
servants' house, where dwells the Jewess. Thou didst this to show.
Enough! interrupted the prince. I was neither here nor at the
servants' house. If it seemed to thee that Thou wert looking at me,
that means that thy lover, that worthless Greek, not only has not left
Egypt, but even dares to wander through my garden.
The Phoenician woman heard him with fright.
Astaroth! cried she, suddenly. Save me! Hide me, O earth! for if
that wretch Lykon returns mighty misfortune is threatening me.
The prince laughed, but he had not patience to listen to the
complaints of the ex-priestess.
Be at rest, said he, when going, and wonder not if after some
days men bring in thy Lykon bound like a jackal. That insolent ruffian
has worn out my patience.
On returning to his palace the prince summoned Hiram and the chief
of police in Pi-Bast. He told them that Lykon, the Greek with a face
resembling his, was prowling around among the palaces, and he gave
command to seize him. Hiram swore that if Phoenicians helped the police
the Greek would be taken. But the chief shook his head.
Dost doubt? asked the prince.
Yes, lord. In Pi-Bast dwell many pious Asiatics who think the
priestess worthy of death because she deserted the altar. If this Greek
has bound himself to kill Kama, they will help him, they will conceal
the man, and facilitate flight for him.
What is thy answer to this? asked the heir of Hiram.
The worthy master of the palace speaks wisely, replied the old
Phoenician.
But ye have freed Kama from the curse.
I guarantee that Phoenicians will not touch Kama, and will pursue
the Greek. But what is to be done with the other adherents of
Astaroth?
I make bold to think, said the chief, that nothing threatens this
woman at present. If she had courage, we might employ her to decoy the
Greek, and seize him here in thy palaces, O Erpatr.
Then go to her, said the prince, and lay before her whatever plan
Thou mayst think out. And if Thou seize the man, I will give thee ten
talents.
When the heir left them, Hiram said to the chief,
Dignitary, I am aware that Thou knowest both kinds of writing, and
that the wisdom of priests is not strange to thee. When Thou hast the
wish, Thou art able to hear through walls and see things in darkness.
For this reason Thou knowest the thoughts of the man who works with a
bucket, the laborer, the artisan who takes sandals to market, the great
lord who in the escort of his servants feels as safe as a child on the
bosom of its mother.
Thou speakest truth, replied the official. The gods have given me
a wonderful gift of clear insight.
That is it; thanks to thy gifts, Thou hast guessed beyond doubt
that the temple of Astaroth will appoint to thee twenty talents if Thou
seize that wretch who dares assume the appearance of the prince, our
viceroy. Besides, in every case, the temple offers thee ten talents if
news of the likeness of the wretched Lykon to the heir is not reported
throughout Egypt; for it is offensive and improper that an ordinary
mortal should recall by his features a personage descended from
divinity.
Therefore let not that which Thou hearest of the wretched Lykon go
beyond our own hearts, nor any word touching our chase after that
godless outcast.
I understand, replied the official. It may even happen that such
a criminal may lose his life before we can give him to the court.
Thou hast said it, replied Hiram, pressing his hand; and every
help asked by thee of Phoenicians will be furnished.
They parted like two friends who were hunting a wild beast, and knew
that the problem was not that their spear should strike, but that the
beast should drop in its tracks and not go into other hands.
After some days Ramses visited Kama again, but found her in a state
touching on insanity. She hid herself in the darkest room of the villa;
she was hungry, her hair was not dressed, she was even unwashed. She
gave the most contradictory commands to her servants; at one time she
ordered all to come to her, at another she sent all away. In the night
she summoned the guard of warriors, and fled to the highest chamber
soon after, crying out that they wished to kill her.
In view of these actions all desire vanished from the prince's soul,
and there remained simply a feeling of great trouble. He seized his
head when the steward of the palace and the officer told him of these
wonders, and he whispered:
Indeed, I did badly in taking that woman from her goddess; for the
goddess alone could endure her caprices with patience.
He went, however, to Kama, and found her emaciated, broken, and
trembling.
Woe to me! cried she. There are none around me but enemies. My
tirewoman wishes to poison me; my hairdresser to give me some dreadful
disease. The warriors are waiting an opportunity to bury swords and
spears in my bosom; I am sure that instead of food, they prepare for me
magic herbs in the kitchen. All are rising up to destroy me.
Kama! interrupted the prince.
Call me not by that name! whispered she; it will bring me
misfortune.
But how do these ideas come to thee?
How? Dost Thou think that in the daytime I do not see strange
people who appear at the palace and vanish before I can call in my
servants? And in the night do I not hear people outside the wall
whispering?
It seems so to thee.
Cursed! Cursed! cried Kama, weeping. Ye all say that it seems to
me. But the day before yesterday some criminal hand threw into my
bedchamber a veil, which I wore half a day before I saw that it was not
mine and that I had never worn a veil like it.
Where is that veil? inquired the prince, now alarmed.
I burned it, but I showed it first to my servants.
If not thine even, what harm could come of it?
Nothing yet. But had I kept that rag in the house two days longer,
I should have been poisoned, or caught some incurable disorder. I know
Asiatics and their methods.
Wearied and irritated, the prince left her at the earliest, in spite
of entreaties to stay. When he asked the servants about that veil, the
tirewoman declared that it was not one of Kama's; some person had
thrown it into the chamber.
The prince commanded to double the watch at the villa and around it,
and returned in desperation to his dwelling.
Never should I have believed, said he, that a single weak woman
could bring so much trouble. Four freshly caught hyenas are not so
restless as that Kama!
At his palace the prince found Tutmosis, who had just returned from
Memphis and had barely taken time to bathe and dress after the journey.
What hast Thou to say? inquired the prince of his favorite,
divining that he had not brought pleasant tidings. Hast Thou seen his
holiness?
I saw the sun-god of Egypt, and this is what he said to me.
Speak, hurried Ramses.
Thus spoke our lord, answered Tutmosis, crossing his arms on his
breast: For four and thirty years have I directed the weighty car of
Egypt, and I am so wearied that I yearn to join my mighty forefathers
who dwell now in the western kingdom. Soon I shall leave this earth,
and then my son, Ramses, will sit on the throne, and do with the state
what wisdom points out to him.
Did my holy father speak thus?
Those are his words repeated faithfully. A number of times the lord
spoke explicitly, saying that he would leave no command to thee, so
that Thou mightst govern Egypt as thy wishes indicate.
Ob, holy one! Is his illness really serious? Why did he not summon
me? asked the prince, in sorrow.
Thou must be here, for Thou mayst be of service in this part of
Egypt.
But the treaty with Assyria?
It is concluded in this sense, that Assyria may wage war on the
east and north without hindrance from Egypt. But the question of
Phoenicia remains in abeyance till Thou art the pharaoh.
O blessed! O holy ruler! From what a dreadful heritage Thou hast
saved me.
So Phoenicia remains in abeyance, continued Tutmosis. But still
there is one bad thing. His holiness, to show Assyria that he will not
hinder her in the war against northern peoples, has commanded to
decrease our army by twenty thousand mercenaries.
What dost Thou tell me! cried the heir, astounded.
Tutmosis shook his head in sign of sorrow.
I speak the truth, and four Libyan regiments are now disbanded.
But this is madness! almost howled the heir, wringing his hands.
Why have we so weakened ourselves, and whither will those disbanded
men go?
They have gone to the Libyan desert already, and will either attack
the Libyans, which will cause us trouble, or will join them and both
will attack then our western border.
I have heard nothing of this! What did they do, and when did they
do it? No news reached us! cried Ramses.
The disbanded troops went to the desert from Memphis, and Herhor
forbade to mention this news to any person.
Do neither Mefres nor Mentezufis know of this matter?
They know.
They know, and I do not.
The prince grew calm on a sudden, but he was pale, and on his young
face was depicted terrible hatred. He seized both hands of his
favorite, pressed them firmly, and whispered,
Hear me! By the sacred heads of my father and mother, by the memory
of Ramses the Great by all the gods, if there are any, I swear that
during my rule if the priests will not bow down before me I will crush
them.
Tutmosis listened in alarm.
I or they! finished the prince. Egypt cannot have two lords.
Formerly it had only one, the pharaoh, added Tutmosis.
Then Thou wilt be loyal to me?
I, all the nobles, and the army, I swear to thee.
Enough! concluded Ramses. Let them discharge the mercenary
regiments, let them sign treaties, let them hide before me like bats,
and let them deceive us all. But the time will come And now, Tutmosis,
rest after the journey; be with me at the feast this evening. Those
people have so bound me that I can only amuse myself. Then let me amuse
myself. But in time I will show them who the ruler of Egypt is, they or
I.
From that day feasts began again. The prince, as if ashamed to meet
the army, was not present at drills. Still, his palace was swarming
with nobles, officers, jugglers, and singers, while at night great
orgies took place, at which the sound of harps mingled with the drunken
shouts of guests and the spasmodic laughter of women.
Ramses invited Kama to one of these feasts, but she refused.
The prince was offended. Seeing this, Tutmosis said,
They have told me, lord, that Sarah has lost thy favor.
Do not mention that Jewess to me, replied Ramses. But dost Thou
know what she did with my son?
I know; but that, it seems to me, was not her fault. I heard in
Memphis that thy worthy mother and the worthy minister Herhor made thy
son a Jew, so that he might rule over Israelites sometime.
But the Israelites have no king, only priests and judges,
interrupted the prince.
They have not, but they wish to have. They, too, are disgusted with
priestly rule.
The heir waved his hand contemptuously.
A charioteer of his holiness means more than any king, especially
any king of the Israelites, who as yet have no kingdom.
In every case, Sarah's fault is not so great, put in Tutmosis.
Then know that I will pay the priests sometime.
They are not to blame so greatly. For instance, the worthy Herhor
did this to increase the glory and power of thy dynasty. And he did it
with the knowledge of thy mother.
But why does Mefres interfere? His single duty is to care for the
temple, not influence the fate of the pharaoh's descendants.
Mefres is an old man growing whimsical. The whole court of his
holiness jeers at him because of practices, of which I know nothing,
though I see the holy man almost daily.
This is curious. What does he do?
A number of times during twenty-four hours he performs solemn
services in the most secret parts of the temple, and he commands the
priests to see if the gods do not hold him suspended while praying.
Ha! ha! laughed Ramses. And all this is going on in Pi-Bast here
under our eyes, and I do not know of it?
A priestly secret.
A secret of which all in Memphis are talking! Ha! ha! ha! In the
amphitheatre I saw a Chaldean suspended in the air.
I saw him too; but that was a trick, while Mefres wishes to be
borne above the earth really on the wings of his devotion.
Unheard-of buffoonery! What do the other priests say to this?
Perhaps in our sacred papyruses there is mention that in old times
there were prophets among us who had the gift of suspending themselves
in the air; so the desires of Mefres do not astonish priests nowadays.
And since, as is known to thee, subordinates among us see whatever
pleases superiors, some holy men claim that during prayer Mefres really
rises a couple of fingers high above the pavement.
Ha! ha! ha! And with this great secret the whole court is occupied,
and we, like laborers or earth-diggers, do not even suspect that
miracles are wrought at one side of us. A wretched fate to be heir to
the throne of Egypt! laughed the viceroy.
When he grew calm, at the repeated request of Tutmosis, he commanded
to transfer Sarah from the servants' house to Kama's first villa. The
servants were delighted at this change; all the serving and slave
women, and even the scribes conducted Sarah to her new dwelling with
music and shouts of pleasure.
The Phoenician woman, when she heard the uproar, asked the reason;
and when they told her that Sarah had been restored to the favor of the
prince, and that from the servants' house she had been transferred to
the villa, the enraged ex-priestess sent for Ramses.
The prince came.
Dost Thou treat me in this way? screamed she, losing control of
her temper. Thou didst promise that I should be thy first woman, but
before the moon traversed half the heavens thy promise was broken.
Perhaps Thou thinkest that the vengeance of Astaroth will fall on the
priestess alone, and not reach to princes.
Tell thy Astaroth, replied Ramses, calmly, not to threaten
princes, or she may go herself to the servants' house.
I understand! exclaimed Kama. I shall go to the servants' house,
perhaps even to prison, while Thou wilt spend nights with thy Jewess.
Because I have left the gods for thee I have drawn down a curse on my
own head. Because I left them I know no rest for a moment; I have lost
my youth for thee, my life, my soul even, and this is the pay which
Thou givest me.
The prince confessed in his heart that Kama had sacrificed much for
him, and he felt compunction.
I have not been and shall not be with Sarah, said he. But does it
harm thee that the ill-fated woman has some comfort and can nourish her
child unmolested?
Kama trembled. She raised her clinched fist, her hair stirred, and
in her eyes an ugly fire of hate was flashing.
Is this the answer which Thou givest me? The Jewess is unhappy
because Thou didst drive her from the villa, and I must be satisfied,
though the gods have driven me out of their temples. But my soul the
soul of a priestess who is drowning in tears and in terror does not
mean more for thee than that brat of the Jew woman this child, which,
would he were dead may he.
Silence! cried the prince, shutting her mouth.
She drew back frightened.
Then may I not even complain of my wretchedness? inquired she.
But if Thou art so careful of that child, why steal me from the
temple, why promise that I should be first in thy household? Have a
care, continued she, raising her voice again, that Egypt, after
learning my fate, may not call thee a faith-breaker.
The prince turned his head and laughed. But he sat down, and said,
My teacher was right, indeed, when he warned me against women: Ye
are like ripe peaches in the eyes of a man whose tongue thirst has
parched, but peaches ripe only in appearance. Woe to the fool who dares
bite that fruit of fair seeming; instead of cooling sweetness he will
find a nest of wasps that will sting not his lips alone, but his heart
also.
Wilt Thou complain? Wilt Thou not spare me even this shame after I
have sacrificed to thee both my dignity of priestess and my virtue?
The heir shook his head and smiled.
Never could I have thought, said he, after a while, that the
story told by laborers before bedtime could have come true. But today I
see the truth of it. Listen to me, Kama; perhaps Thou wilt stop, and
not force me to withdraw the goodwill which I have for thee.
He wishes now to tell a fable! said the priestess, bitterly. Thou
hast told me one already, and I was profited by hearing it.
This will profit thee if Thou understand it.
Will there be anything about Jewish brats in it?
Of priestesses there will be; only listen carefully.
The following thing happened here long ago, in Pi-Bast: [A true
story.]
Once Prince Satni, on the square before the temple of Ptah, saw a
very beautiful woman. She surpassed all whom he had met before, and,
what was more noteworthy, she had much gold on her person.
She pleased the prince greatly, and when he learned that she was
the daughter of the high priest, he sent his equerry to her with the
following offer,
'I will give thee gold rings if Thou wilt pass one short hour in my
company.'
The equerry went to the beautiful Tbubui and repeated the words of
Prince Satni. When she had listened to him politely, she answered as
became a well-bred young lady,
'I am the daughter of a high priest; I am innocent, no low girl.
So, if the prince wishes to have the pleasure of knowing me, let him
come to my house, where everything will be ready, and where
acquaintance with him will not expose me to the scandal of all the
street gossips.'
Prince Satni went to Tbubui's chambers, the walls of which were
covered with lapis lazuli and pale green enamel. There were also many
couches decked with regal linen, and not a few one-legged tables on
which gold goblets were standing. One of these goblets was filled with
wine and given to the prince, while Tbubui said to him, 'Be gracious,
and drink.' To this the prince answered, 'Thou knowest that I have not
come to drink wine here.' Still the two sat down at the feast, during
which Tbubui wore a long, heavy robe fastened at her neck closely. When
the prince, excited by wine, wished to kiss her, she repelled him, and
answered,
'This house will be thine. But remember that I am no street woman,
but an innocent maiden. If Thou wish from me obedience, swear faith,
and convey to me thy property.'
'Let the scribe come!' cried the prince. When they brought in the
scribe, Satni commanded him to write an act of betrothal, also a deed
by which he transferred to Tbubui all his money, and all his property,
personal and real.
An hour later the servants announced to the prince that his
children were waiting in the lower story. Tbubui left him then, but
returned soon, attired in a transparent gauze robe. Satni wished again
to embrace her, but she repelled him a second time, saying: 'This house
will be thine. But, since I am no common woman, but an innocent maiden,
if Thou wish to possess me, let thy children renounce every claim, lest
they raise lawsuits hereafter with my children.'
Satni called up his children, and commanded them to sign an act
renouncing all claim to his possessions. They did so. But when, roused
by long resistance, he approached Tbubui, she repelled him, saying,
'This house will be thine. But I am no chance passing woman, I am a
pure maiden. If Thou love me, give consent to kill those children lest
they take property from my children.'
This is rather a long story, said Kama, impatiently.
It will end right away. And dost Thou know, Kama, what Satni
replied to this: 'If Thou wish, let the crime be accomplished.' Tbubui
gave no chance to have these words said a second time. Before their
father's eyes she commanded to kill the children, and throw their
bloody limbs to dogs and cats outside the windows. Only after that did
Satni enter her chamber and repose on her bed, inlaid with ivory.
Tbubui did well not to trust to men's promises, said the irritated
Kama.
But Satni, said the heir, did better. He woke, for his dreadful
crime was a dream only. And remember this, Kama, the surest way to
rouse a man from love's intoxication is to curse his son.
Be at rest, lord, said Kama, gloomily, I will never mention
hereafter thy son or my sorrow.
And I will not withdraw my favor from thee, and Thou wilt be
happy, said Ramses, in conclusion.
CHAPTER XL
Among the inhabitants of Pi-Bast alarming news had begun to
circulate concerning the Libyans. It was said that those barbarian
warriors, disbanded by the priests, began by begging on the road
homeward, then they stole, and finally they fell to robbing and burning
Egyptian villages, murdering the inhabitants meanwhile.
In the course of a few days they attacked and destroyed the towns of
Chinen-su, Pinat, and Kasa, south of Lake Moeris, and they cut down
also a caravan of merchants and Egyptian pilgrims returning from the
oasis Uit-Mehe. The entire western boundary of the state was in peril,
and even from Teremethis inhabitants began to flee. And in the
neighborhood beyond that, toward the sea, appeared bands of Libyans,
sent, as it were, by the terrible chief, Musawasa, who, it seemed, was
to declare a sacred war against Egypt.
Moreover, if any evening a western strip of sky was red for too long
a time alarm fell on Pi-Bast. The people gathered along the streets;
some of them went out on the flat roofs, or climbed trees, and declared
that they saw a fire in Menuf or in Sechem. Some, even, in spite of
darkness, saw fleeing people, or Libyan bands marching toward Pi-Bast
in long black columns.
Notwithstanding the indignation of people, the rulers of provinces
remained indifferent, for the central power issued no order.
Prince Ramses saw this alarm of the people and the indifference of
dignitaries. Mad anger seized him, because he received no command from
Memphis, and because neither Mefres nor Mentezufis spoke with him of
dangers threatening Egypt.
But since neither priest visited him, and both, as it were, avoided
conversation, the viceroy did not seek them, nor did he make any
military preparations.
At last he ceased to visit the regiments stationed at Pi-Bast, but
assembling at the palace all the young nobles, he amused himself and
feasted, repressing in his heart indignation at the priests and anxiety
for the fate of the country.
Thou wilt see! said he once to Tutmosis. The holy prophets will
manage us so that Musawasa will take Lower Egypt, and we shall have to
flee to Thebes, if not to Sunnu, unless the Ethiopians drive us also
from that place.
Thou speakest truth, replied Tutmosis; our rulers' acts resemble
those of traitors.
The first day in the month of Hator (August-September) a great feast
was given at the palace of the viceroy. They began to amuse themselves
at two in the afternoon, and before sunset all present were drunk. It
went so far that men and women rolled on the floor, which was wet with
wine and covered with flowers and pieces of broken pitchers.
The prince was the soberest among them. He was not on the floor, he
was sitting in an armchair, holding on his knees two beautiful dancers,
one of whom was giving him wine, while the other was pouring strong
perfumes on his head.
At this moment an adjutant entered the hall, and, stepping over a
number of guests lying prostrate, hurried up to Ramses.
Worthy lord, said he, the holy Mefres and the holy Mentezufis
wish to speak at once with thee.
The viceroy pushed the girls away, and with red face, stained
garments, and tottering steps went to his chamber in the upper story.
At sight of him Mefres and Mentezufis looked at each other.
What do ye wish, worthy fathers? asked the prince, dropping into
an armchair.
I do not know whether Thou wilt be able to hear us, answered the
anxious Mentezufis.
Ah! do ye think that I am tipsy? cried the prince. Have no fear.
Today all Egypt is either so mad or so stupid that most sense is found
among drinkers.
The priests frowned, but Mentezufis began,
Thou knowest, worthiness, that our lord and the supreme council
determined to disband twenty thousand mercenary warriors?
Well, if I do not know? said the heir. Ye have not deigned to ask
my advice in a question so difficult to determine, ye have not even
thought it worth while to inform me that four regiments are disbanded,
and that those men, because of hunger, are attacking our cities.
It seems to me, worthiness, that Thou art criticizing the commands
of his holiness the pharaoh, interrupted Mentezufis.
Not of his holiness! cried the prince, stamping, but of those
traitors who, taking advantage of the sickness of my father, wish to
sell Egypt to Assyrians and Libyans.
The priests were astounded. No Egyptian had ever used words of that
kind.
Permit, prince, that we return in a couple of hours, when Thou
shalt have calmed thyself, said Mefres.
There is no need of that. I know what is happening on our western
boundary. Or rather it is not I who know, but my cooks, stable-boys,
and laundrymen. Perhaps then ye will have the goodness, worthy fathers,
to communicate your plans to me.
Mentezufis assumed a look of indifference, and said,
The Libyans have rebelled and are collecting bands with the
intention of attacking Egypt.
I understand.
At the desire, therefore, of his holiness, continued Mentezufis,
and of the supreme council, Thou art to take troops from Lower Egypt
and annihilate the rebels.
Where is the order?
Mentezufis drew forth from his bosom a parchment provided with
seals, and gave it to the viceroy.
From this moment then I command, and am the supreme power in this
province, said the viceroy.
It is as Thou hast said.
And I have the right to hold a military council with you?
Of course, replied Mefres. Even this moment
Sit down, interrupted the prince.
Both priests obeyed his command.
I ask because in view of my plans I must know why the Libyan
regiments were disbanded.
Others too will be disbanded, caught up Mentezufis. The supreme
council desires to disband twenty thousand of the most expensive
warriors, so that the treasury of his holiness may save four thousand
talents yearly, without which want may soon threaten the court of the
pharaoh.
A thing which does not threaten the most wretched of Egyptian
priests, added Ramses.
Thou forgettest, worthiness, that it is not proper to call a priest
wretched, replied Mentezufis. And if want threatens none of them, the
merit is found in their moderate style of living.
In that case the statues drink the wine which is carried every day
to the temples, while stone gods dress their wives in gold and jewels,
jeered Ramses. But no more about your abstemiousness. Not to fill the
treasury of the pharaoh has the council of priests disbanded twenty
thousand troops and opened the gates of Egypt to bandits.
But why?
This is why: to please King Assar. And since his holiness would not
agree to give Phoenicia to Assyria, ye wish to weaken the state in
another way, by disbanding hired troops and rousing war on our western
boundary.
I take the gods to witness that Thou dost astonish us, worthiness,
cried Mentezufis.
The shades of the pharaohs would be more astonished if they heard
that in this same Egypt in which the power of the pharaoh is hampered,
some Chaldean trickster is influencing the fate of the nation.
I do not believe my own ears, replied Mentezufis. What dost Thou
say of some Chaldean?
The viceroy laughed sneeringly.
I speak of Beroes. If thou, holy man, hast not heard of him, ask
the revered Mefres, and if he has forgotten turn then to Herhor and
Pentuer.
That is a great secret of our temples
A foreign adventurer came like a thief to Egypt, and put on the
members of the supreme council a treaty so shameful that we should be
justified in signing it only after we had lost battles, lost all our
regiments and both capitals. And to think that this was done by one
man, most assuredly a spy of King Assar! And our sages let themselves
be so charmed by his eloquence, that, when the pharaoh would not let
them give up Phoenicia, they disbanded regiments in every case, and
caused war on our western boundary. Have we ever heard of a deed like
this? continued Ramses, no longer master of himself. When it was just
the time to raise the army to three hundred thousand and hurry on to
Nineveh, those pious maniacs discharged twenty thousand men and fired
their own dwelling-house.
Mefres, still and pale, listened to these jeers. At last he said,
I know not, worthy lord, from what source Thou hast taken thy
information. May it be as pure as the hearts of the highest counselors!
But let us suppose that Thou art right, that some Chaldean priest had
power to bring the council to sign a burdensome treaty with Assyria. If
it happened thus, whence knowest Thou that that priest was not an envoy
of the gods, who through his lips forewarned us of dangers hanging over
Egypt?
How do the Chaldeans enjoy your confidence to such a degree? asked
the viceroy.
The Chaldean priests are elder brothers of the Egyptians,
interrupted Mentezufis.
Then perhaps the Assyrian king is the master of the pharaoh?
Blaspheme not, worthiness, said Mefres, severely. Thou art
pushing into the most sacred things frivolously, and to do that has
proved perilous to men who were greater than Thou art.
Well, I will not do so. But how is a man to know that one Chaldean
is an envoy of the gods, and another a spy of King Assar?
By miracles, answered Mefres. If, at thy command, prince, this
room should fill with spirits, if unseen powers were to bear thee in
the air, we should know that Thou wert an agent of the immortals, and
should respect thy counsel.
Ramses shrugged his shoulders. I, too, have seen spirits: a young
girl made them. And I saw a juggler lying in the air in the
amphitheatre.
But Thou didst not see the fine strings which his four assistants
had in their teeth, put in Mentezufis.
The prince laughed again, and, remembering what Tutmosis had told
him about the devotions of Mefres, he said in a jeering tone,
In the days of Cheops a certain high priest wished absolutely to
fly through the air. With this object he prayed to the gods, and
commanded his inferiors to see whether unseen powers were not raising
him. And what will ye say, holy fathers? From that time forth there was
no day when prophets did not assure the high priest that he was borne
in the air, not very high, it is true, about a finger from the
pavement.
But what is that to thy power, worthiness? inquired he of Mefres,
suddenly.
The high priest, when he heard his own story, shook in the chair,
and would have fallen had not Mentezufis supported him.
Ramses bustled about, gave the old man water to drink, rubbed
vinegar on his temples and forehead, and fanned him.
Soon the holy Mefres recovered, rose from the chair, and said to
Mentezufis,
May we not go now?
I think so.
But what am I to do? asked the prince, feeling that something evil
had happened.
Accomplish the duties of leader, said Mentezufis, coldly.
Both priests bowed to the prince ceremoniously, and departed. Ramses
was not entirely sober, but a great weight fell on his heart. At that
moment he understood that he had committed two grievous errors: He had
confessed to the priests that he knew their great secret, and he had
jeered, without mercy, at Mefres. He would have given a year of his
life could he have blotted from their memories all that drunken
conversation. But it was too late then to do so.
It cannot be hidden, thought he. I have betrayed myself and
procured mortal enemies. The position is difficult. The struggle begins
at a moment which is for me most unfavorable. But let us go on. More
than one pharaoh has struggled with the priests and conquered, even
without having very strong allies.
Still he felt the danger of his position so clearly that at that
moment he swore by the sacred head of his father that he would never
drink wine again freely. He summoned Tutmosis. The confidant appeared
at once, perfectly sober.
We have a war, and I am commander, said the viceroy.
Tutmosis bent to the earth.
I will never get drunk again, added the prince. And knowest Thou
why?
A leader should abstain from wine and stupefying perfumes, said
Tutmosis.
I have not thought of that, that is nothing; but I have babbled out
a secret before the priests.
What secret? cried the terrified Tutmosis.
This, that I hate them, and jeer at their miracles.
Oh, that is no harm. They never calculate on the love of people.
And that I know their political secrets, added the prince.
Ei! hissed Tutmosis. That is the one thing that was not needed.
No help for it now, said Ramses. Send out our couriers
immediately to the regiments; let the chiefs meet to-morrow morning in
a military council. Give command to light alarm signals, so that all
the troops of Lower Egypt may march toward the western border
to-morrow. Go to the nomarchs here, and command them to inform all the
others to collect clothing, provisions, and weapons.
We shall have trouble with the Nile, said Tutmosis.
Then let every boat and barge be held at the arms of the Nile to
ferry over troops. We must summon every nomarch to occupy himself in
fitting out reserves.
Meanwhile Mefres and Mentezufis returned to their dwellings in the
temple of Ptah. When they were alone in a cell, the high priest raised
his hands, and exclaimed,
O Trinity of immortal gods, Osiris, Isis, and Horus, save Egypt
from destruction! Since the world became the world, no pharaoh has ever
uttered so many blasphemies as we have heard today from that stripling.
What do I say, pharaoh? No enemy of Egypt, no Hittite, Phoenician, or
Libyan has ever dared so to insult priestly immunity.
Wine makes a man transparent, answered Mentezufis.
But in that youthful heart is a nest of serpents. He insults the
priestly rank, he jeers at miracles, he has no belief in gods.
But this concerns me most, said Mentezufis, thoughtfully, how did
he learn of our negotiations with. Beroes? for he knows them, I will
swear to that.
A dreadful treason has been committed, added Mefres, seizing his
head.
A very wonderful thing! There were four of us.
Not at all four of us. The elder priestess of Isis knew of Beroes,
two priests who showed him the road to the temple of Set, and a priest
who received him at the door. But wait! that priest spends all his time
in underground places. But if he overheard?
In every case he did not sell the secret to a stripling, but to
some one more important; and that is dangerous.
The high priest of the temple of Ptah, the holy Sem, knocked at the
door of the cell.
Peace to you, said he, entering.
Blessing to thy heart.
I came, for ye were raising your voices as if some misfortune had
happened. Does this war with the wretched Libyans not surprise you?
What dost Thou think of the prince, the heir to the throne? asked
Mentezufis, interrupting him.
I think, answered Sem, that he must be quite satisfied with the
war and supreme command. He is a born hero. When I look at him I
remember that lion, Ramses the Great. This youth is ready to rush at
all the bands of Libya, and, indeed, he may scatter them.
This youth, added Mefres, is capable of overturning all our
temples, and wiping Egypt from the face of the earth.
Holy Sem drew forth quickly a gold amulet which he wore on his
breast, and whispered,
Flee, evil words, to the desert. Go far, and harm not the just.
What art Thou saying, worthiness? continued he, more loudly, and in a
tone of reproach.
The worthy Mefres speaks truth, said Mentezufis. Thy head would
ache, and thy stomach also, should human lips repeat the blasphemous
words which we have heard this day from that giddy stripling.
Jest not, O prophet, said the high priest Sem, with indignation.
Sooner would I believe that water burns and air quenches than that
Ramses would commit blasphemy.
He did so in seeming drunkenness, said Mefres, maliciously.
Even if he were drunk I do not deny that the prince is frivolous,
and a rioter; but a blasphemer.
So, too, did we think, said Mentezufis. And we were so sure of
knowing his character that when he returned from the temple of Hator we
ceased even to exercise control over him.
Thou wert sparing of gold to pay men for watching, said Mefres.
Thou seest now what results are involved in a neglect which seemed
slight to thee.
But what has happened? inquired Sem, impatiently.
I will answer briefly: the prince reviles the gods.
Oho!
He criticizes the commands of the pharaoh.
Is it possible?
He calls the supreme council traitors.
But.
But from whom did he learn of the coming of Beroes, even of his
interview with Mefres, Herhor, and Pentuer, in the temple of Set?
The high priest Sem, seizing his head with both hands, walked up and
down through the cell.
Impossible! said he. Impossible! Has any one cast a spell over
that young man? Perhaps the Phoenician priestess, whom he stole from
the temple.
This consideration seemed to Mentezufis so apposite that he looked
at Mefres. But the angry high priest would not be turned aside for an
instant.
Let us see, said he. But first we must investigate and learn what
the prince was doing day by day, after his return from the temple of
Hator. He had too much freedom, too many relations with unbelievers and
with enemies of Egypt. But Thou wilt help us, worthy Sem.
Because of this decision, the high priest Sem ordered to summon for
the following day a solemn service at the temple of Ptah.
So they stationed on squares and at street comers, even in the
fields, heralds of the priests, and called all the people with flutes
and trumpets.
And when a sufficient number of hearers had assembled, they informed
them that in the temple of Ptah there would be prayers and processions
during three days, to the intent that the good god would bless Egyptian
arms and crush Libyans; that he would send down on their leader,
Musawasa, leprosy, insanity, and blindness.
As the priests wished, so was it done. From morning till late at
night common people of every occupation crowded around the temple; the
aristocracy and the wealthy citizens assembled in the forecourt; while
the priests of the city and of the neighboring provinces made
sacrifices to Ptah and repeated prayers in the most holy chapel.
Thrice daily did a solemn procession issue forth, carrying in a
golden boat, concealed by curtains, the revered statue of the divinity;
whereat the people prostrated themselves and confessed their faults
loudly, while prophets disposed in the crowd numerously helped them to
penitence by appropriate questions. A similar thing was done in the
forecourt of the temple. But since officials and rich people did not
like to accuse themselves openly, the holy fathers took them aside, and
gave advice and exhortation in whispers.
In the afternoon the service was most solemn, for at that time the
troops marching westward came to receive the blessing of the high
priest, and strengthen the power of amulets which had the quality of
weakening blows from the enemy.
Sometimes thunder was heard in the temple, and at night, above the
pylons, there was lightning. This was a sign that the god had heard
some one's prayers, or was conversing with the priesthood.
When, after the ending of the solemnity, the three dignitaries Sem,
Mefres, and Mentezufis met for consultation, the position had become
clearer.
The solemnity had brought the temple about forty talents but sixty
talents had been given out in presents or in paying the debts of
various persons of the aristocracy as well as of the highest military
circles.
They had collected the following information:
A report was current in the army, that when Prince Ramses mounted
the throne, he would begin a war with Assyria, which would assure great
profit to those taking part in it. The lowest soldier, they said, would
not return without a thousand drachmas, or perhaps a still larger sum.
It was whispered among people that when the pharaoh returned with
victory from Nineveh, he would give slaves to the earth-tillers, and
remit for a number of years all taxes.
The aristocracy, on its part, judged that the new pharaoh would,
first of all, take from priests and return to nobles all lands which
had become temple property, and would pay also the debts of nobles. It
was said, too, that the coming pharaoh would govern independently,
without a supreme priestly council.
Finally, in all social circles there reigned a conviction that
Ramses, to secure the aid of Phoenicia, had had recourse to the goddess
Istar, [Another form of Astarte.] to whom he showed marked devotion. In
every case it was certain that the heir had once visited the temple of
Istar, and had seen, in the night, certain miracles. Finally, rumors
were current among Asiatics that Ramses had made immense presents to
the temple, and in return had taken thence a priestess to confirm him
in the faith of the goddess.
All these tidings were collected by the most worthy Sem and his
assistants. The holy fathers, Mefres and Mentezufis, communicated to
him other information which had come to them from Memphis:
The Chaldean priest and miracle-worker, Beroes, was received in the
subterranean parts of the temple of Set by the priest Osochar, who,
when giving his daughter in marriage two months later, had presented
her with rich jewels and bought a good estate for her and her husband.
And since Osochar had no considerable income, a suspicion rose that
that priest had overheard the conversation of Beroes with the Egyptian
priests, and had sold to Phoenicians, criminally, the secret of the
treaty, and received a great estate from them.
When he heard this, the high priest Sem added,
If the holy Beroes does, indeed, perform miracles, then ask him,
first of all, if Osochar has betrayed the secret.
They inquired of Beroes, said Mefres, but the holy man answered
that in that affair he preferred to be silent. He added, also, that
even if some one had heard their conversation, and reported to
Phoenicians, neither Egypt nor Chaldea would suffer any injury; and if
they should find the guilty person, it would be proper to show him
mercy.
A holy man! Indeed, a holy man! whispered Sem.
And what wilt Thou say, worthiness, asked Mefres, of the prince
and the disturbances which his conduct has caused in the country?
I will say the same as Beroes: 'The heir does not cause harm to
Egypt, so we should show him indulgence. '.
This young man reviles the gods and miracles; he enters foreign
temples, he excites the men to rebellion. These are no small matters,
said Mefres, bitterly. This priest could not pardon Ramses for having
jeered at his devotion so rudely.
The high priest Sem loved Ramses; so he answered with a kindly
smile,
What laborer is there in Egypt who would not like to have a slave,
and abandon hard labor for sweet idleness? Or what man is there on
earth who is without the dream of not paying taxes, since with that
which he pays the treasury, his wife, he himself, and his children
might buy showy clothes and use various dainties?
Idleness and excessive outlay spoil a man, said Mentezufis.
What warrior, continued Sem, would not desire war and covet a
thousand drachmas, or even a greater sum? Further, I ask you, O
fathers, what pharaoh, what nomarch, what noble pays old debts with
alacrity, and does not look askance at the wealth of temples?
That is vile greed, whispered Mefres.
And, finally, said Sem, what heir to the throne has not dreamed
of decreasing the importance of the priesthood? What pharaoh at the
beginning of his reign has not tried to shake off the supreme council's
influence?
Thy words are full of wisdom, said Mefres, but to what may they
lead us?
To this, not to accuse the heir before the supreme council, for
there is no court that would condemn the prince for this, that
earth-workers would be glad not to pay taxes, or that soldiers want war
if they can have it. Nay, ye may receive a reprimand. For if ye had
followed the prince day by day and restrained his minor excesses, we
should not have at present that pyramid of complaints founded,
moreover, on nothing. In such affairs the evil is not in this, that
people are inclined to sin, for they have been so at all times. But the
danger is here, that we have not guarded them. Our sacred river, the
mother of Egypt, would very soon fill all canals with mud, if engineers
ceased to watch it.
And what wilt Thou say, worthiness, of the fictions which the
prince permitted himself in speaking with us? Wilt Thou forgive his
foul reviling of miracles? inquired Mefres. Moreover this stripling
has insulted me grievously in my religious practices.
Whoso speaks with a drunken man is himself an offender, said Sem.
To tell the truth, ye had no right, worthy fathers, to speak with a
man who was not sober about important state questions. Ye committed a
fault in making a drunken man commander of an army. A leader must be
sober.
I bow down before thy wisdom, said Mefres; still I vote to lay a
complaint against the heir before the supreme council.
But I vote against a complaint, answered Sem, energetically. The
council must learn of all acts of the viceroy, not through a complaint,
but through an ordinary report to it.
I too am opposed to a complaint, said Mentezufis.
The high priest, Mefres, seeing that he had two votes against him,
yielded in the matter of a complaint. But he remembered the insult from
the prince and hid ill-will in his bosom.
CHAPTER XLI
BY advice of astrologers the headquarters were to move from Pi-Bast
on the seventh day of Hator. For that day was good, good, good. Gods
in heaven and men on earth rejoiced at the victory of Ra over his
enemies; whoever came into the world on that day was destined to die at
an advanced age surrounded by reverence.
That was a favorable day for pregnant women, and people trading in
woven stuffs, but for toads and mice it was evil.
From the moment that he was appointed commander Ramses rushed to
work feverishly. He received each regiment as it arrived; he inspected
its weapons, its train, and its clothing. He greeted the recruits, and
encouraged them to diligent exercise at drilling, to the destruction of
their enemies and the glory of the pharaoh. He presided at every
military council, he was present at the examination of every spy, and
in proportion as tidings were brought in, he indicated on the map with
his own hand the movement of Egyptian armies and the positions of the
enemy.
He passed so swiftly from place to place that they looked for him
everywhere, and still he swooped on them suddenly like a falcon. In the
morning he was on the south of Pi-Bast and verified the list of
provisions; an hour later he was north of the city, and discovered that
a hundred and fifty men were lacking in the left regiment. In the
evening he overtook the advance guard, was at the crossing of an arm of
the Nile, and passed in review two hundred war chariots.
The holy Mentezufis, who, as a representative of Herhor, understood
the military art well, was overcome by astonishment.
Ye know, said he to Sem and Mefres, that I do not like the heir
to the throne, for I have discovered his perversity and malice. But
Osiris be my witness that that young man is a born leader. I will tell
you a thing unparalleled: We shall concentrate our forces on the border
three or four days earlier than it was possible to expect. The Libyans
have lost the war already, though they have not heard the whistle of
our arrows.
So much the worse is such a pharaoh for us, interposed Mefres,
with the stubbornness peculiar to old men.
Toward evening the sixth of Hator, Prince Ramses bathed and informed
his staff that they would march on the morrow two hours before sunrise.
And now I wish to sleep, said he.
To wish for sleep was easier than to get it. The whole city was
swarming with warriors; at the palace of the prince a regiment had
encamped which had no thought of rest, but was eating, drinking, and
singing.
The prince went to the remotest chamber, but even there he could not
undress. Every few minutes some adjutant flew in with a report of no
moment, or for an order in questions which could have been settled on
the spot by the commander of a regiment. Spies were led in who brought
no new information; great lords with small followings were announced;
these wished to offer their services to the prince as volunteers.
Phoenician merchants broke in on him; these wanted contracts for the
army, or were contractors who complained of the extortion of generals.
Even soothsayers and astrologers were not lacking, who in the last
hours before marching wished to draw his horoscope for the viceroy;
there were even practicers of the black art who wished to sell
unfailing amulets against missiles.
These people simply broke into the prince's chamber: each one of
them judged that the fate of the expedition was in his hands, and that
in such a case every etiquette should vanish.
The heir satisfied all applicants patiently. But when behind an
astrologer one of his own women pushed into the room with complaint
that Ramses did not love her, since he had not taken farewell, and when
a quarter of an hour later the weeping of another was heard outside the
window, the heir could endure no longer; he summoned Tutmosis.
Sit in this room, said he, and if Thou wish, console the women of
my household. I will hide somewhere in the garden; if not, I shall not
sleep and to-morrow I shall look like a hen just pulled out of a
cistern.
Where am I to seek thee in case of need? asked Tutmosis.
Oho! ho! laughed the heir. Seek me nowhere. I shall appear of
myself when the trumpet is sounded.
And throwing over his shoulders a long mantle with a hood, he
slipped out to the garden. Through the garden were prowling soldiers,
kitchen boys, and other servants. In the whole space about the palace
order had disappeared, as usual before an expedition. Noting this,
Ramses turned to the densest part of the park, found a little arbor
formed of grape- vines, and threw himself on a bench satisfied.
Here neither priests nor women will find me, muttered the viceroy.
He fell asleep immediately, and slept like a stone.
Kama had felt ill for some days. To her irritation was joined some
peculiar weakness and pain in the joints. Then there was an itching of
her face, but especially of her forehead above the eyebrows.
These minute symptoms seemed to her so alarming that she ceased to
dread assassination, but straightway she sat down before a mirror, and
told her servants to withdraw and leave her. At such times she thought
neither of Ramses nor the hated Sarah; all her attention was fixed on
those spots which an untrained eye would not have even noticed.
A spot yes, these are spots, whispered she, full of terror. Two,
three O Astaroth, but Thou wilt not punish thy priestess in this way!
Death would be better But again what folly! If I rub my forehead, the
spots will be redder. Evidently something has bitten me, or I have used
impure oil in anointing. I will wash, and the spots will be gone by to-morrow.
The morrow came, but the spots had not vanished.
Kama called a servant.
Listen! said she. Look at me!
But as she spoke she sat down in a less lighted part of the chamber.
Listen and look! said she, in a stifled voice. Dost Thou see
spots on my face? But come no nearer.
I see nothing, answered the serving woman.
Neither under my left eye nor on my brows? asked she, with growing
irritation.
Let the lady be pleased graciously to sit with the side of her face
to the light, said the woman.
Of course that request enraged Kama.
Away, wretch, cried she; show thyself no more to me!
When the serving-woman fled, her mistress rushed feverishly to the
dressing-table, opened two little toilet jars, and with a brush painted
her face rose-color.
Toward evening, feeling continual pain in her joints and fear in her
heart, which was worse than pain, she commanded to call a physician.
When they told her that the physician had come, she looked at the
mirror, and was seized by a new attack, as it were of insanity. She
threw the mirror to the pavement, and cried out with weeping that she
did not need the physician.
During the sixth of Hator she ate nothing all day and would see no
person.
When the slave woman brought in a light after sun-down,
Kama lay on the bed, after she had wound herself in a shawl. She
ordered the slave to go out as quickly as possible; then she sat in an
armchair at a distance from the lamp, and passed some hours in a half-waking stupor.
There are no spots, said she, and if there are, they are not
spots of that kind! They are not leprosy. O ye gods! cried she,
throwing herself on the pavement. It cannot be that I O ye gods, save
me! I will go back to the temple; I will do life-long penance I have no
spots. I have been rubbing my skin for some days; that is why it is
red. Again, how could I have it; has any one ever heard that a
priestess and a woman of the heir to the throne could have leprosy? O
ye gods! that never has happened since the world began. Only fishermen,
prisoners, and vile Jews Oh, that low Jewess! Heavenly powers, oh, send
down leprosy to her!
At that moment some shadow passed by the window on the first story.
Then a rustle was heard, and from the door to the middle of the room
sprang in Lykon.
Kama was amazed. She seized her head suddenly, and in her eyes
immense terror was depicted.
Lykon! whispered she. Thou here, Lykon? Be off! They are
searching for thee.
I know, answered the Greek, with a jeering laugh. All the
Phoenicians are hunting me, and all the police of his holiness. Still I
am with thee, and I have been in thy lord's chamber.
Wert Thou with the prince?
Yes; in his own bedchamber. And I should have left a dagger in his
breast if the evil spirits had not saved him. Evidently he went to some
other woman, not to thee.
What dost Thou wish here? whispered Kama. Flee!
But with thee. On the street a chariot is ready for us; on this we
shall ride to the Nile, and there my boat is in waiting.
Thou hast gone mad! But the city and the streets are filled with
warriors.
For that very reason I was able to enter this palace, and we can
escape very easily. Collect all thy treasures. I shall be back here
immediately and take thee.
Whither art Thou going?
I am seeking thy lord. I shall not go without leaving him a
memento.
Thou art mad!
Be silent! interrupted Lykon, pale from anger. Thou wishest yet
to defend him.
The Phoenician woman tottered; she clinched her fists, and an evil
light flashed in her eyes.
But if Thou canst not find him?
Then I will kill one of his sleeping warriors. I will set fire to
the palace. Do I know what I shall do? But I will not go without
leaving a memento.
The great eyes of the Phoenician woman had such a ghastly look that
the Greek was astonished.
What is the matter with thee? asked Lykon.
Nothing; listen. Thou hast never been so like the prince as today.
Hence, if Thou wish to do a good thing.
She put her face to his ear and whispered.
The Greek listened in amazement.
Woman, said he, Hades speaks through thee.
Yes; suspicion will be turned on him.
That is better than a dagger, said Lykon, laughing. Never could I
have come on that idea. Perhaps both would be better?
No! Let her live. This will be my vengeance.
What a wicked soul! whispered Lykon. But Thou pleasest me. We
will pay them both in kingly fashion.
He withdrew to the window and vanished. Kama leaned out after him,
and forgetting every other thing, listened in a fever.
Perhaps a quarter of an hour after the departure of Lykon, at the
side of the fig grove rose the piercing shriek of a woman. It was
repeated a couple of times, and then ceased.
Instead of the expected delight, terror seized Kama. She fell on her
knees, and gazed into the dark garden with a wandering stare.
Below was heard almost noiseless running; there was a squeak at the
pillar in the antechamber, and in the window appeared Lykon again in a
dark mantle. He was panting with violence, and his hands trembled.
Where are thy jewels? whispered he.
Let me alone, replied she.
The Greek seized her by the shoulder.
Wretch! Dost Thou not understand that before sunrise they will
imprison thee, and will strangle thee a couple of days later?
I am sick.
Where are thy jewels?
Under the bed.
Lykon went to her bedchamber; with the light of a lamp he drew out a
heavy casket, threw a mantle over Kama, and pulled her by the arm.
Make ready! Where are the doors through which he comes to thee that
lord of thine?
Leave me!
The Greek bent to her, and whispered,
Aha! Dost think that I will leave thee here? I care as much for
thee now as I do for a dog that has lost sense of smell. But Thou must
go with me. Let that lord of thine know that there is a man better than
he. He stole a priestess from Astaroth, I take his mistress from the
heir of Egypt.
I tell thee that I am sick.
The Greek drew out a slender blade, and put the point of it to her
throat.
Kama trembled, and whispered,
I go.
They passed through the secret door to the garden. From the
direction of the palace came the noise of warriors kindling fires. Here
and there among the trees were lights; from time to time some one in
the service of the heir passed the pair. At the gate the guard stopped
them,
Who are ye?
Thebes, answered Lykon.
Then they went out to the street unhindered, and vanished in the
alleys of the foreign quarter.
Two hours before daybreak drums and trumpets sounded through the
city.
Tutmosis was lying sunk in deep sleep, when Prince Ramses pulled his
mantle, and called,
Rise, watchful leader. The regiments are marching!
Tutmosis sat up in bed and rubbed his drowsy eyes.
Ah, is it thou, lord? asked he, yawning. Hast Thou slept?
As never before, replied Ramses.
But I should like to sleep more.
Both bathed, put on their jackets and light mail, then mounted
horses, which were tearing away from the equerries.
Soon the heir, with a small suite, left the city, and on the way
passed slowly moving columns. The Nile had overflowed widely, and the
prince wished to be present at the passage of fords and canals.
At sunrise the last army chariot was far outside the city, and the
worthy nomarch of Pi-Bast said to his servants,
I am going to sleep now, and woe to the man who rouses me before
the hour of our feast in the evening! Even the divine sun rests when
each day is past, while I have not lain down since the first day of
Hator.
Before he had finished praising his own watchfulness, a police
officer entered, and begged for a special hearing in a case of immense
importance.
Would that the earth had swallowed thee! muttered the worthy
nomarch.
But still he commanded to summon the officer, and inquired with ill-humor,
Is it not possible to wait a few hours? The Nile will not run away,
as it seems to me.
A terrible misfortune has happened, replied the officer. The son
of the erpatr is killed.
What? Who? cried the nomarch.
The son of the Jewess Sarah.
Who killed him? When?
Last night.
But who could do this?
The officer bent his head and spread his arms.
I asked who killed him? repeated the nomarch, more astonished than
angry.
Be pleased, lord, thyself to investigate. My lips will not utter
what my ears have heard.
The astonishment of the nomarch increased. He gave command to lead
in Sarah's servants, and sent for Mefres, the high priest. Mentezufis,
as representative of the minister of war, had gone with the viceroy.
The astonished Mefres came. The nomarch told of the murder of the
child, and said that the police official dared not give explanations.
But are there witnesses? inquired the high priest.
We are waiting for thy commands, holy father.
They brought in Sarah's doorkeeper.
Hast Thou heard, inquired the nomarch, that the child of thy
mistress is killed?
The man fell to the pavement, and answered,
I have even seen the worthy remains broken against the wall, and I
detained our lady when she ran out to the garden, screaming.
When did this happen?
At midnight. Immediately after the most worthy heir came to our
lady, answered the watch.
How is this? Did the prince visit thy lady last night? inquired
Mefres.
Thou hast said it, great prophet.
This is wonderful! whispered Mefres to the nomarch.
The second witness was Sarah's cook, the third her waiting woman.
Both declared that after midnight the prince had entered Sarah's
chamber, stayed there awhile, then run out quickly to the garden, and
soon after him appeared Lady Sarah, screaming terribly.
But the prince remained all night in his chamber; he did not leave
the palace, said the nomarch.
The police-officer shook his head, and declared that some of the
palace servants were waiting in the antechamber.
They were summoned. Mefres questioned them, and it appeared that the
heir had not slept in the palace. He had left his chamber before
midnight, and gone to the garden; he returned when the first trumpet
sounded.
When the witnesses had been led out, and the two dignitaries were
alone, the nomarch threw himself on the pavement, and declared to
Mefres that he was grievously ill, and would rather lose his life than
carry on investigations. The high priest was very pale and excited; but
he replied that they must clear up a question of murder, and he
commanded the nomarch in the name of the pharaoh-to go with him to
Sarah's dwelling. It was not far to the garden of the heir, and the two
dignitaries soon found themselves at the place where the crime had been
committed.
When they entered the chamber on the first story, they saw Sarah
kneeling at the cradle in such a posture as if nursing the child. On
the wall and the pavement were blood spots.
The nomarch grew so weak that he was forced to sit down, but Mefres
was calm. He approached Sarah, touched her arm, and said,
We come hither, lady, in the name of his holiness.
Sarah sprang to her feet suddenly, and, looking at Mefres, cried in
a terrible voice,
A curse on you! Ye wished to have a Jew king, and here is the king
for you. Oh, why did I, unfortunate, listen to your traitorous advice!
She dropped, and fell again at the side of the cradle, groaning,
My son my little Seti! How beautiful he was, so cunning; just
stretching out his little hands to me! O Jehovah! give him back to me,
for that is in Thy power. O gods of Egypt, Osiris, Horus, Isis, O Isis,
for Thou too wert a mother! It cannot be that in the heavens there is
not one who will listen to my prayer. Such a dear, little child! A
hyena would have spared him.
The high priest took her by the arms, and put her on her feet. The
police and the servants filled the room.
Sarah, said the high priest, in the name of his holiness, the
lord of Egypt, I summon thee, and command thee to answer, Who killed
thy son?
She gazed straight ahead, like a maniac, and rubbed her forehead.
The nomarch gave her water and wine, and one of the women present
sprinkled her with vinegar.
In the name of his holiness, repeated Mefres, I command thee,
Sarah, to tell the name of the murderer.
Those present withdrew toward the door; the nomarch with despairing
action closed both his ears.
Who killed? said Sarah, in a panting voice, sinking her gaze in
the face of Mefres. Who killed, dost Thou ask? I know you, ye priests!
I know your justice.
Then who killed? insisted Mefres.
I! cried Sarah, in an unearthly voice. I killed my child, because
ye made him a Jew.
That is false! hissed the high priest.
I, I! repeated Sarah. Hei, Ye people who see me and hear me, she
turned to the witnesses, ye know that I killed him I I I! cried she,
beating her breast.
At such an explicit accusation of herself the nomarch recovered, and
looked with compassion on Sarah; the women sobbed, the doorkeeper wiped
away tears. But the holy Mefres closed his blue lips firmly. At last he
said, with emphatic voice, while looking at the police official,
Servants of his holiness, I surrender this woman, whom ye are to
conduct to the edifice of justice.
But my son with me! interrupted Sarah, rushing to the cradle.
With thee, with thee, poor woman, said the nomarch; and he covered
his face.
The dignitaries went out of the chamber. The police officer had a
litter brought, and with marks of the highest respect conducted Sarah
down to it. The unfortunate woman seized a blood-stained bundle from
the cradle, and took a seat, without resistance, in the litter.
All the servants went after her to the chamber of justice.
When Mefres, with the nomarch, was passing through the garden, the
nomarch said,
I have compassion on that woman.
She will be punished properly for lying, answered the high priest.
Dost Thou think so, worthiness?
I am certain that the gods will discover and punish the real
murderer.
At the garden gate the steward of Kama's villa stood in the road
before them.
The Phoenician woman is gone. She disappeared last night.
A new misfortune, whispered the nomarch.
Have no fear, said Mefres; she followed the prince.
From these answers the worthy nomarch saw that Mefres hated the
prince, and his heart sank in him. If they proved that Ramses had
killed his own son, the heir would never ascend the throne of his
fathers, and the heavy yoke of the priesthood would weigh down still
more mightily on Egypt.
The sadness of the nomarch increased when they told him in the
evening that two physicians of the temple of Hator, when looking at the
corpse of the infant, had expressed the opinion that only a man could
have committed the murder. Some man, said they, seized with his right
hand the feet of the little boy, and broke his skull against the wall
of the building. Sarah's hand could not clasp both legs, on which,
moreover, were traces of large fingers.
After this explanation Mefres, in company with the high priest Sem,
went to Sarah in the prison, and implored her by all the gods of Egypt
and of foreign lands to declare that she was not guilty of the death of
the child, and to describe the person of the murderer.
We will believe thy word, said Mefres, and Thou wilt be free
immediately.
But Sarah, instead of being moved by this proof of friendliness,
fell into anger.
Jackals, cried she, two victims are not enough; ye want still
more. I, unfortunate woman, did this; I, for who else would be so
abject as to kill a child a little child that had never harmed any
one?
But dost Thou know, stubborn woman, what threatens thee? asked the
holy Mefres. Thou wilt hold the remains of thy child for three days in
thy arms, and then be fifteen years in prison.
Only three days? repeated Sarah. But I would never part with my
little Seti; and not only to prison, but to the grave will I go with
him, and my lord will command to bury us together.
When the high priest left Sarah, the most pious Sem said,
I have seen mothers who killed their own children, and I have
judged them; but none were like her.
For she did not kill her child, answered Mefres, angrily.
Who, then?
He whom the servants saw when he rushed into Sarah's house and fled
a moment later; he who, when going against the enemy, took with him the
priestess Kama, who denied the altar; he, concluded Mefres, excitedly,
who hunted Sarah out of the house, and made her a slave because her
son had been made a Jew.
Thy words are terrible, answered Sem, in alarm.
The criminal is still worse, and, in spite of that stupid woman's
stubbornness, he will be discovered.
But the holy man did not suppose that his prophecy would be
accomplished so quickly.
And it was accomplished in the following manner: Prince Ramses, when
moving from Pi-Bast with the army, had not left the palace when the
chief of the police learned of the murder of Sarah's child, and the
flight of Kama, and this, too, that Sarah's servants saw the prince
entering her house in the night time. The chief of police was a very
keen person; he pondered over this question, Who could have committed
the crime? and instead of inquiring on the spot, he hastened to pursue
the guilty parties outside the city, and forewarned Hiram of what had
happened.
While Mefres was trying to extort a confession from Sarah, the most
active agents of the Pi-Bast police, and with them every Phoenician
under the leadership of Hiram, were hunting the Greek Lykon and the
priestess Kama.
So three nights after the prince had departed, the chief of police
returned to Pi-Bast, bringing with him a large cage covered with linen,
in which was some woman who screamed in heaven-piercing accents.
Without lying down to sleep, the chief summoned the officer who had
made the investigation, and listened to his report attentively.
At sunrise the two priests, Sem and Mefres, with the nomarch of Pi-Bast, received a most humble invitation to deign immediately, should
such be their will, to come to the chief of police. In fact, all three
entered at the very same moment; so the chief, bending low, implored
them to tell all that they knew concerning the murder of the son of the
viceroy.
The nomarch, though a great dignitary, grew pale when he heard the
humble invitation, and answered that he knew nothing. The high priest
Sem gave almost the same answer, adding, for himself, the reflection
that Sarah seemed to him innocent.
When the turn came to the holy Mefres, he said,
I know not whether Thou hast heard, worthiness, that during the
night of the crime one of the prince's women escaped; her name was
Kama.
The chief of police feigned to be greatly astonished.
I know not, continued Mefres, whether they have told thee that
the heir did not pass the night in the palace, but was in Sarah's
house. The doorkeeper and two servants recognized him, for the night
was rather clear. It is a great pity, finished the high priest, that
Thou hast not been here these two days past.
The chief bowed very low to Mefres, and turned to the nomarch,
Wouldst Thou be pleased, worthiness, to tell me, graciously, how
the prince was dressed that evening?
He wore a white jacket, and a purple apron with gold fringe,
answered the nomarch. I remember very well, for that evening I was one
of the last who spoke with him.
The chief of the police clapped his hands, and Sarah's doorkeeper
entered the chamber.
Didst Thou see the prince, inquired he, when he came in the night
to the house of thy lady?
I opened the door to his worthiness, may he live through eternity!
And dost Thou remember how he was dressed?
He wore a jacket with yellow and black stripes, a cap of the same
colors, and a blue and red apron, answered the doorkeeper.
Both priests and the nomarch began to wonder.
Then they brought in Sarah's servants, who repeated exactly the same
description of the prince's dress. The nomarch's eyes flashed with
delight, but on the face of the holy Mefres confusion was evident.
I will swear, put in the worthy nomarch, that the prince wore a
white jacket and a purple apron with gold fringe.
Now, most worthy men, said the chief of police, be pleased to
come with me to the prison. There we shall see one more witness.
They went to a subterranean hall, where under a window stood a great
cage covered with linen. The chief threw back the linen with his stick,
and those present saw a woman lying in a corner.
But this is the Lady Kama! cried the nomarch.
It was indeed Kama, sick and changed very greatly. When she rose at
sight of the dignitaries, and appeared in the light, those present saw
that her face had bronze-colored spots on it. Her eyes seemed
wandering.
Kama, said the chief, the goddess Astaroth has touched thee with
leprosy.
It was not the goddess! said she, with a changed voice. It was
the low Asiatics, who threw in a tainted veil to me. Oh, I am
unfortunate!
Kama, continued the chief, our most famous high priests, Sem and
Mefres, have taken compassion on thee. If Thou wilt tell the truth,
they will pray for thee, and perhaps the all-mighty Osiris will turn
from thee misfortune. There is still time, the disease is only
beginning, and our gods have great power.
The sick woman fell on her knees, and pressing her face against the
grating, said in a broken voice,
Have compassion on me! I have renounced Phoenician gods, and to the
end of life will serve the gods of Egypt. Only avert from me.
Answer, but answer truly, said the chief, and the gods will not
refuse thee their favor. Who killed the child of the Jewess Sarah?
The traitor, Lykon, the Greek. He was a singer in our temple, and
said that he loved me. But he has rejected me, the infamous traitor,
and seized my jewels.
Why did Lykon kill the child?
He wanted to kill the prince, but not finding him in the palace, he
ran to Sarah's villa.
How did the criminal enter a house that was guarded?
Dost Thou not know that Lykon resembles the prince? They are as
much alike as two leaves of one palm-tree.
How was Lykon dressed that night?
He wore a jacket in yellow and black stripes, a cap of the same
material, and a red and blue apron. Do not torment me; return me my
health! Be compassionate! I will be faithful to your gods! Are ye going
already? Oh, hard-hearted!
Poor woman, said the high priest Sem, I will send to thee a
mighty worker of miracles; he may.
May ye be blessed by Astaroth! No, may your almighty and
compassionate gods bless you, whispered Kama, in dreadful weariness.
The dignitaries left the prison and returned to the upper hall. The
nomarch, seeing that the high priest Mefres kept his eyes cast down and
his lips fixed, asked him,
Art Thou not rejoiced, holy man, at these wonderful discoveries
made by our chief?
I have no reason to rejoice, answered Mefres, dryly. The case,
instead of being simplified, has grown difficult. Sarah asserts that
she killed the child, while the Phoenician woman answers as if some one
had taught her.
Then dost Thou not believe, worthiness? interrupted the chief.
No, for I have never seen two men so much alike that one could be
mistaken for the other. Still more, I have never heard that there
exists in Pi-Bast a man who could counterfeit our viceroy, may he live
through eternity!
That man, said the chief, was in Pi-Bast, at the temple of
Astaroth. The Tyrian Prince Hiram knew him, and our viceroy has seen
him with his own eyes. More than that, not long ago, he commanded me to
seize him, and even offered a large reward.
Ho! ho! cried Mefres, I see, worthy chief, I see that the highest
secrets of the state are concentrating about thee. But permit me not to
believe in that Lykon till I see him.
And he left the hall in anger, and after him Sem, shrugging his
shoulders. But when their steps had ceased to sound in the corridor,
the nomarch, looking quickly at the chief, asked,
What dost Thou think?
Indeed, said the chief, the holy prophets are beginning to
interfere in things which have never been under their jurisdiction.
And we must endure this! whispered the nomarch.
For a time only, sighed the chief. In so far as I know men's
hearts, all the military, all the officials of his holiness, in fine,
all the aristocracy, are indignant at this priestly tyranny. Everything
must have its limit.
Thou hast uttered great words, said the nomarch, pressing the
chief's hand, and some internal voice tells me that I shall see thee
as supreme chief of police at the side of his holiness.
A couple of days passed. During this time the dissectors had secured
from corruption the remains of the viceroy's son; but Sarah continued
in prison, awaiting her trial, certain that she would be condemned.
Kama was sitting, also, confined in her cage; people feared her, for
she was infected with leprosy. It is true that a miracle-working
physician visited her, repeated prayers before her, gave her everything
to drink, and gave her healing water. Still, fever did not leave the
woman, and the bronze-colored spots on her cheeks and brows grew more
definite. Therefore an order came from the nomarch to take her out to
the eastern desert, where, separated from mankind, dwelt a colony of
lepers.
On a certain evening the chief appeared at the temple of Ptah,
saying that he wished to speak with the high priest. The chief had with
him two agents, and a man covered from head to foot in a bag.
After a while an answer was sent to the chief that the high priests
were awaiting him in the sacred chamber of the statue of their
divinity.
The chief left the agents before the gate, took by the arm the man
dressed in the bag, and, conducted by a priest, went to the sacred
chamber. When he entered, he found Mefres and Sem arrayed as high
priests, with silver plates on their bosoms.
He fell before them on the pavement, and said,
In accordance with your commands, I bring to you, holy fathers, the
criminal Lykon. Do ye wish to see his face?
When they assented, the chief rose, and pulled the bag from the man
standing near him.
Both high priests cried out with astonishment. The Greek was really
so like Ramses that it was impossible to resist the deception.
Thou art Lykon, the singer from the temple of Astaroth? asked the
holy Sem of the bound Greek.
Lykon smiled contemptuously.
And didst Thou kill the child of the prince? added Mefres.
The Greek grew blue from rage, and strove to tear off his bonds.
Yes! cried he, I killed the whelp, for I could not find the wolf,
his father, may heaven's blazes burn him!
In what has the prince offended thee, criminal? asked the
indignant Sem.
In what? He seized from me Kama, and plunged her into a disease for
which there is no remedy. I was free, I might have fled with life and
property, but I resolved to avenge myself, and now ye have me. It was
his luck that your gods are mightier than my hatred. Now ye may kill
me; the sooner ye do so, the better.
This is a great criminal, said Sem.
Mefres was silent and gazed into the Greek's eyes, which were
burning with rage. He admired his courage, and fell to thinking. All at
once he said to the chief,
Worthy sir, Thou mayst go, this man belongs to us.
This man, replied the chief, who was indignant, belongs to me. I
seized him and I shall receive a reward from Prince Ramses.
Mefres rose and drew forth from under his mantle a gold medal.
In the name of the supreme council, of which I am a member, said
he, I command thee to yield this man to us. Remember that his
existence is among the highest state secrets, and indeed it would be a
hundred times better for thee to forget that Thou hast left him here.
The chief fell again to the pavement, and went out repressing his
anger.
Our lord the prince will repay you when he is the pharaoh! thought
he. And he will pay you my part ye will see.
Where is the prisoner? asked the agents standing before the gate.
In prison, answered the chief; the hands of the gods have rested
on him.
And our reward? asked the elder agent.
The hands of the gods have rested on your reward also. Imagine then
to yourselves that ye saw that prisoner only in a dream, ye will be
safer in health and in service.
The agents dropped their heads in silence. But in their hearts they
swore vengeance against the priests, who had taken a handsome reward
from them.
After the chief had gone Mefres summoned a number of priests, and
whispered something into the ears of the eldest. The priests surrounded
the Greek and conducted him out of the chamber. Lykon made no
resistance.
I think, said Sem, that this man should be brought before the
court as a murderer.
Never! cried Mefres, with decision. On this man weighs an
incomparably greater crime, he is like the heir to the throne.
And what wilt Thou do with him, worthiness?
I will reserve him for the supreme council, said Mefres. When the
heir to the throne visits pagan temples and steals from them women,
when the country is threatened with danger of war, and the power of the
priests with rebellion, Lykon may be of service.
On the following midday the high priest Sem, the nomarch, and the
chief of police went to Sarah's prison. The unfortunate woman had not
eaten for a number of days, and was so weak that she did not rise from
the bench even in presence of so many dignitaries.
Sarah, said the nomarch, whom she had known before, we bring thee
good news.
News, repeated she with a pathetic voice. My son is not living,
that is the news; my breast is full of nourishment, but my heart is
full of sadness.
Sarah, said the nomarch, Thou art free. Thou didst not kill thy
child.
Her seemingly dead features revived. She sprang from the bench, and
cried,
I I killed him only I.
Consider, Sarah, a man killed thy son, a Greek, named Lykon, the
lover of the Phoenician Kama.
What dost Thou say? whispered she, seizing the nomarch's hands.
Oh, that Phoenician woman! I knew that she would ruin us. But the
Greek? I know no Greek. How could my son offend any man?
I know not, continued the nomarch. That Greek is no longer alive.
But that man was so like Prince Ramses that when he entered thy chamber
Thou didst think him our lord. And Thou hast preferred to accuse thy
own self rather than our lord, and thine.
Then that was not Ramses? cried she, seizing her head. And I,
wretched woman, let a strange man take my son from his cradle. Ha! ha!
ha!
Then she laughed more and more. On a sudden, as if her legs had been
cut from under her, she fell to the floor, her hands hopped a couple of
times, and she died in hysteric laughter.
But on her face remained an expression of sorrow which even death
could not drive from it.
CHAPTER XLII
THE western boundary of Egypt for a distance of more than a hundred
geographic miles is composed of a wall of naked limestone hills about
two hundred meters high, intersected by ravines. They run parallel to
the Nile, from which they are sometimes five miles distant, sometimes
one kilometer. Whoso should clamber up one of these hills and turn his
face northward would see one of the strangest sights possible. He would
have on his right hand the narrow but green plain cut lengthwise by the
Nile; on his left he would see an endless yellow open region, varied by
spots, white or brick colored.
Monotony, the irritating yellow color of the sand plain, the heat,
and, above all, boundless immensity are the most peculiar traits of the
Libyan desert, which extends westward from Egypt.
But viewed more nearly the desert is in fact less monotonous. Its
sand is not level, but forms a series of swellings which recall immense
waves of water. It is like a roused sea solidified on a sudden. But
whoso should have the courage to go across that sea for an hour, two
hours, a day, directly westward would see a new sight. On the horizon
would appear eminences, sometimes cliffs and rocks of the strangest
outlines. Under foot the sand would grow thinner, and from beneath it
limestone rocks would emerge just like land out of water.
In fact that was a land, or even a country in the midst of a sand
ocean. Around the limestone hills were valleys, in them the beds of
streams and rivers, farther on a plain, and in the middle of it a lake
with a bending line of shores and a sunken bottom.
But on these plains, hills, and heights no blade of grass grows; in
the lake there is no drop of water; along the bed of the river no
current moves. That is a landscape, even greatly varied with respect to
forms, but a landscape from which all water has departed, the very last
atom of moisture has dried from it; a dead landscape, where not only
all vegetation has vanished, but even the fertile stratum of earth has
been ground into dust or dried up into rock slabs.
In those places the most ghastly event has taken place of which it
is possible to meditate: Nature has died there, and nothing remains but
her dust and her skeleton, which heat dissolves to the last degree, and
burning wind tosses from spot to spot.
Beyond this dead, unburied region stretches again a sea of sand, on
which are seen, here and there, towering up in one and another place,
pointed stacks as high as a house of one story. Each summit of such a
little hill is crowned by a small bunch of gray, fine, dusty leaves, of
which it is difficult to say that they are living; but it may be said
that they cannot wither.
One of these strange stacks signifies that water in that place has
not dried up altogether, but has hidden from drought beneath the earth,
and preserves dampness in some way. On that spot a tamarind seed fell,
and the plant has begun to grow with endless effort.
But Typhon, the lord of the desert, has noted this, and begun to
stifle it with sand. And the more the little plant pushes upward, the
higher rises the stack of sand which is choking it. That tamarind which
has wandered into the desert looks like a drowning man raising his
arms, in vain, heavenward.
And again the yellow boundless ocean stretches on with its sand
waves and those fragments of the plant world which have not the power
to perish. All at once a rocky wall is in front, and in it clefts,
which serve as gateways.
The incredible is before us. Beyond one of these gateways a broad
green plain appears, a multitude of palms, the blue waters of a lake.
Even sheep are seen pasturing, with cattle and horses. From afar, on
the sides of a cliff, towers up a town; on the summit of the cliff are
the white walls of a temple.
That is an oasis, or island in the sand ocean.
In the time of the pharaohs there were many such oases, perhaps some
tens of them. They formed a chain of islands in the desert, along the
western boundary of Egypt. They lay at a distance of ten, fifteen, or
twenty geographic miles from the Nile, and varied in size from a few to
a few tens of square kilometers in area.
Celebrated by Arab poets, these oases were never really the
forecourts of paradise. Their lakes are swamps for the greater part;
from their underground sources flow waters which are warm, sometimes of
evil odor, and disgustingly brackish; their vegetation could not
compare with the Egyptian. Still, these lonely places seemed a miracle
to wanderers in the desert, who found in them a little green for the
eye, a trifle of coolness, dampness, and some dates also.
The population of these islands in the sand ocean varied from a few
hundred persons to numbers between ten and twenty thousand, according
to area. These people were all adventurers or their descendants,
Europeans, Libyans, Ethiopians. To the desert fled people who had
nothing to lose, convicts from the quarries, criminals pursued by
police, earth-tillers escaping from tribute, or laborers who left hard
work for danger. The greater part of these fugitives died on the sand
ocean. Some of them, after sufferings beyond description, were able to
reach the oases, where they passed a wretched life, but a free one, and
they were ready at all times to fall upon Egypt for the sake of an
outlaw's recompense.
Between the desert and the Mediterranean extended a very long,
though not very wide strip of fruitful soil, inhabited by tribes which
the Egyptians called Libyans. Some of these worked at land tilling,
others at navigation and fishing; in each tribe, however, was a crowd
of wild people, who preferred plunder, theft, and warfare to regular
labor. That bandit population was perishing always between poverty and
warlike adventure; but it was also recruited by an influx of Sicilians
and Sardinians, who at that time were greater robbers and barbarians
than were the native Libyans.
Since Libya touched the western boundary of Lower Egypt, barbarians
made frequent inroads on the territory of his holiness, and were
terribly punished. Convinced at last that war with Libyans was result-less, the pharaohs, or, more accurately, the priesthood, decided on
another system: real Libyan families were permitted to settle in the
swamps of Lower Egypt, near the seacoast, while adventurers and bandits
were enlisted in the army, and became splendid warriors.
In this way the state secured peace on the western boundary. To keep
single Libyan robbers in order police were sufficient, with a field
guard and a few regiments of regulars disposed along the Canopus arm of
the great river.
Such a condition of affairs lasted almost two centuries; the last
war with the Libyans was carried on by Ramses III, who cut enormous
piles of hands from his slain enemies, and brought thirteen thousand
slaves home to Egypt. From that time forth no one feared attack on the
Libyan boundary, and only toward the end of the reign of Ramses XII did
the strange policy of the priests kindle the flame of war again in
those regions.
It burst out through the following causes:
His worthiness, Herhor, the minister of war, and high priest of
Amon, because of resistance from his holiness the pharaoh, was unable
to conclude with Assyria a treaty for the division of Asia. But
wishing, as Beroes had forewarned him, to keep a more continued peace
with Assyria, Herhor assured Sargon that Egypt would not hinder them
from carrying on a war with eastern and northern Asiatics.
And since Sargon, the ambassador of King Assar, seemed not to trust
their oaths, Herhor decided to give him a material proof of friendly
feeling, and, with this object, ordered to disband at once twenty
thousand mercenaries, mainly Libyans.
For those disbanded warriors, who were in no way guilty and had been
always loyal, this decision almost equaled a death sentence. Before
Egypt appeared the danger of a war with Libya, which could in no case
give refuge to men in such numbers, men accustomed only to comforts and
military exercise, not to poverty and labor. But in view of great
questions of state, Herhor and the priests did not hesitate at trifles.
Indeed, the disbanding of the Libyans brought them much advantage.
First of all, Sargon and his associates signed and swore to a treaty
of ten years with the pharaoh, during which time, according to
predictions of priests in Chaldea, evil fates were impending over
Egypt.
Second, the disbanding of twenty thousand men spared four thousand
talents to the treasury; this was greatly important.
Third, a war with Libya on the western boundary was an outlet for
the heroic instincts of the viceroy, and might turn his attention from
Asiatic questions and the eastern boundary for a long time. His
worthiness Herhor and the supreme council had calculated very keenly
that some years would pass before the Libyans, trained in petty
warfare, would ask for peace with Egypt.
The plan was well constructed, but the authors of it failed in one
point; they had not found Ramses a military genius.
The disbanded Libyan regiments robbed along the way, and reached
their birthplace very quickly, all the more quickly since Herhor had
given no command to place obstacles before them. The very first of the
disbanded men, when they stood on Libyan soil, told wonders to their
relatives.
According to their stories, dictated by anger and personal interest,
Egypt was then as weak as when the Hyksos invaded it nine hundred years
earlier. The pharaoh's treasury was so poor that he, the equal of the
gods, had to disband them, the Libyans, who were the chief, if not the
only honor of the army. Moreover, there was hardly any army unless a
mere band on the eastern boundary, and that was formed of warriors of a
common order.
Besides, there was dissension between the priesthood and his
holiness. The laborers had not received their wages, and the earth
tillers were simply killed through taxes, therefore masses of men were
ready to rebel if they could only find assistance. And that was not the
whole case, for the nomarchs, who ruled once independently, and who
from time to time demanded their rights again, seeing now the weakness
of the government, were preparing to overturn both the pharaoh and the
supreme priestly council.
These tidings flew, like a flock of birds, along the Libyan
boundary, and found credit quickly. Those barbarians and bandits ever
ready to attack, were all the more ready then, when ex-warriors and
officers of his holiness assured them that to plunder Egypt was easy.
Rich and thoughtful Libyans believed the disbanded men also; for
during many years it had been to them no secret that Egyptian nobles
were losing wealth yearly, that the pharaoh had no power, and that
earth- tillers and laborers rebelled because they suffered.
And so excitement burst out through all Libya. People greeted the
disbanded warriors and officers as heralds of good tidings. And since
the country was poor, and had no supplies to nourish visitors, a war
with Egypt was decided on straightway, so as to send off the new
arrivals at the earliest.
Even the wise and crafty Libyan prince, Musawasa, let himself be
swept away by the general current. It was not, however, the disbanded
warriors who had convinced him, but certain grave and weighty persons
who, in every likelihood, were agents of the chief Egyptian council.
These dignitaries, as if dissatisfied with things in Egypt, or
offended at the pharaoh and the priesthood, had come to Libya from the
seashore; they took no part in conversations, they avoided meetings
with disbanded warriors, and explained to Musawasa, as the greatest
secret, and with proofs in hand, that that was just his time to fall on
Egypt.
Thou wilt find there endless wealth, said they, and granaries for
thyself, thy people, and the grandsons of thy grandsons.
Musawasa, though a skilful diplomat and leader, let himself be
caught in that way. Like a man of energy, he declared a sacred war at
once, and, as he had valiant warriors in thousands, he hurried off the
first corps eastward. His son, Tehenna, who was twenty years of age at
that time, led it.
The old barbarian knew what war was, and understood that he who
plans to conquer must act with speed and give the first blows in the
struggle.
Libyan preparations were very brief. The former warriors of his
holiness had no weapons, it is true, but they knew their trade, and it
was not difficult in those days to find weapons for an army. A few
straps, or pieces of rope for a sling, a dart or a sharpened stick, an
axe, or a heavy club, a bag of stones, and another of dates, that was
the whole problem.
So Musawasa gave two thousand men, ex-warriors of the pharaoh, and
four thousand of the Libyan rabble to Tehenna, commanding him to fall
on Egypt at the earliest, seize whatever he could find, and collect
provisions for the real army. Assembling for himself the most important
forces, he sent swift runners through the oases and summoned to his
standard all who had no property.
There had not been such a movement in the desert for a long time.
From each oasis came crowd after crowd, such a proletariat, that,
though almost naked, they deserved to be called a tattered rabble.
Relying on the opinion of his counselors, who a month earlier had been
officers of his holiness, Musawasa supposed, with perfect judgment,
that his son would plunder hundreds of villages and small places from
Teremethis to Senti-Nofer, before he would meet important Egyptian
forces. Finally they reported to him, that at the first news of a
movement among the Libyans, not only had all laborers fled from the
glass works, but that even the troops had withdrawn from fortresses in
Sochet-Heman on the Soda Lakes.
This was of very good import to the barbarians, since those glass
works were an important source of income to the pharaoh's treasury.
Musawasa had made the same mistake as the supreme priestly council.
He had not foreseen military genius in Ramses. And an uncommon thing
happened: before the first Libyan corps had reached the neighborhood of
the Soda Lakes the viceroy's army was there, and was twice as numerous
as its enemies.
No man could reproach the Libyans with lack of foresight. Tehenna
and his staff had a very well-organized service. Their spies had made
frequent visits to Melcatis, Naucratis, Sai, Menuf, and Teremethis, and
had sailed across the Canopus and Bolbita arms of the Nile. Nowhere did
they meet troops; the movements of troops would have been paralyzed in
those places by the overflow, but they did see almost everywhere the
alarm of settled populations which were simply fleeing from border
villages. So they brought their leader exact intelligence.
Meanwhile the viceroy's army, in spite of the overflow, had reached
the edge of the desert in nine days after it was mobilized, and now,
furnished with water and provisions, it vanished among the hills of the
Soda Lakes.
If Tehenna could have risen like an eagle above the camp of his
warriors, he would have been frightened at seeing that Egyptian
regiments were hidden in all the ravines of that district, and that his
corps might be surrounded at any instant.
CHAPTER XLIII
FROM the moment when the troops of Lower Egypt marched out of
Pi-Bast, the prophet, Mentezufis, who accompanied the prince, received
and sent away dispatches daily.
One correspondence he conducted with the minister Herhor; Mentezufis
sent reports to Memphis touching the advance of the troops, and the
activity of the viceroy; of this activity he did not conceal his
admiration. On his part, the worthy Herhor stated that every freedom
was to be left to the heir, and that if Ramses lost his first battle,
the supreme council would not feel angry.
A slight defeat, said Herhor, would be a lesson in humility and
caution to the viceroy, who even now, though as yet he has done
nothing, considers himself as equal to the most experienced warriors.
When Mentezufis answered that one could not easily suppose that the
heir would meet defeat, Herhor let him understand that in that case the
triumph should not be over brilliant.
The state, continued he, will not lose in any way if the warriors
and the impulsive heir find amusement for some years along the western
border. He will gain skill himself in warfare, while the idle warriors
will find their own proper work to do.
The other correspondence Mentezufis carried on with the holy father
Mefres and that seemed to him of more importance. Mefres, offended
formerly by the prince, had recently, in the case of Sarah's child,
accused the prince directly of infanticide, committed under Kama's
influence.
When a week had passed, and the viceroy's innocence was manifest,
the high priest grew still more irate, and did not cease his efforts.
The prince, he said, was capable of anything; he was hostile to the
country's gods, he was an ally of the vile Phoenicians.
The murder of Sarah's child seemed so suspicious in the earlier
days, that even the supreme council asked Mentezufis what he. thought
of it.
Mentezufis answered that he had watched the prince for days, and did
not think the man a murderer.
Such were the letters which, like birds of prey, whirled around
Ramses, while he was sending scouts against the enemy, consulting
leaders, or urging on his warriors.
On the fourteenth day the whole army was concentrated on the south
of Teremethis. To the great delight of the heir,
Patrokles came with the Greek regiment, and with him the priest
Pentuer, sent by Herhor as another guardian near the viceroy.
The multitude of priests in the camp (for there were still others)
did not enchant Ramses. But he resolved not to turn attention to the
holy men or ask advice of them.
Relations were regulated in some way, for Mentezufis, according to
instructions from Herhor, did not force himself on the prince, while
Pentuer occupied himself with organizing medical aid for the wounded.
The military game began.
First of all Ramses, through his agents, had spread a report in many
boundary villages that the Libyans were pushing forward in great
masses, and would destroy and murder. Because of this the terrified
inhabitants fled eastward and met the Egyptian warriors. The prince
took them in to carry burdens for the army, the women and children he
conveyed to the interior of Egypt. Next the commander sent spies to
meet the approaching Libyans and discover their number and disposition.
These spies returned soon, bringing accurate indications as to where
the Libyans were and very exaggerated accounts as to their numbers.
They asserted, too, mistakenly, though in great confidence, that at the
head of the Libyan columns marched Musawasa with his son Tehenna.
The princely leader was flushed with delight that in his first war
he would have such an experienced enemy as Musawasa.
He overestimated, therefore, the danger of the struggle and
redoubled every caution. To have all chances on his side he had
recourse to stratagem. He sent confidential men to meet the Libyans; he
commanded them to feign that they were fugitives, to enter the enemies'
camp and draw from Musawasa his best forces, the disbanded Libyan
soldiers.
Tell them, said Ramses to his agents, that I have axes for the
insolent, and compassion for obedience. If in the coming battle they
will throw their weapons down and leave Musawasa, I will receive them
back to the army of his holiness, and command to pay all arrears, as if
they had never left the service.
Patrokles and the other generals saw in this a very prudent measure;
the priests were silent, Mentezufis sent a dispatch to Herhor and next
day received an answer.
The neighborhood of the Soda Lakes was a valley some tens of
kilometers long, enclosed between two lines of hills, extending from
the southeast toward the northwest. The greatest width did not exceed
ten kilometers; there were places narrower, almost ravines.
Throughout the whole length of that valley extended one after
another about ten swampy lakes filled with bitter, brackish water.
Wretched plants and bushes grew there ever coated with sand, ever
withering, plants which no beast would take to its mouth. Along both
sides were sticking up jagged limestone hills, or immense heaps of sand
in which a man might sink deeply.
The white and yellow landscape had a look of dreadful torpor, which
was heightened by the heat, and also by the silence. No bird was ever
heard there, and if any sound was given forth it was from a stone
rolling down along a hillside.
Toward the middle of the valley rose two groups of buildings a few
kilometers from each other; these were a 'fortress on the east, and
glass factories on the west, to which Libyan merchants brought fuel.
Both these places had been deserted because of the conflict. Tehenna's
corps was to occupy both these points, and secure the road to Egypt for
Musawasa's army forces.
The Libyans marched slowly from the town of Glaucus southward, and
on the evening of the fourteenth day of Hator, they were at the
entrance to the valley of the Soda Lakes, feeling sure that they would
pass through in two days unmolested. That evening at sunset the
Egyptian army moved toward the desert, passed over more than forty
kilometers of sand in twelve hours, and next morning was on the hills
between the huts and the fortress and hid in the many ravines of that
region.
If some man that night had told the Libyans that palm-trees and
wheat were growing in the valley of the Soda Lakes they would have been
astonished less than if he had declared that the Egyptians had barred
the way to it.
After a short rest, during which the priests had discovered and
cleared out a few wells of water somewhat endurable for drinking, the
Egyptian army began to occupy the hills extending along the northern
side of the valley.
The viceroy's plan was quite simple. He was to cut off the Libyans
from their country, and push them southward into the desert, where heat
and hunger would kill them.
With this object he disposed his army on the northern side of the
valley and divided it into three corps. The right wing, that which
extended most toward Libya, was led by Patrokles, who was to cut off
the invaders from their own town of Glaucus. The left wing, that
nearest to Egypt, commanded by Mentezufis, was to stop the Libyans from
advancing. Finally, the direction of the centre, at the glass huts, was
taken by Ramses, who had Pentuer near his person.
On the fifteenth of Hator about seven in the morning, some tens of
Libyan horsemen moved at a brisk trot through the valley. They stopped
a moment at the huts, looked around, and, seeing nothing suspicious,
rode back again.
At about ten in the forenoon in a heat which seemed to suck sweat
and draw blood from men's bodies, Pentuer said to the viceroy,
The Libyans have entered the valley and passed Patrokles' division.
They will be here in an hour from now.
Whence knowest Thou this? asked the astonished prince.
The priests know everything, replied Pentuer, smiling.
Then he ascended one of the cliffs cautiously, took from a bag a
very bright object and turning it in the direction of the holy
Mentezufis began to give certain signs with his hand.
Mentezufis is informed already, said Pentuer.
The prince could not recover from astonishment and answered,
My eyes are better than thine, and my hearing is not worse, I
think; still I see nothing, I hear nothing. How, then, dost Thou see
the enemy and converse with Mentezufis?
Pentuer directed the prince to look at a distant hill, on the summit
of which was a thorn bush. Ramses looked at that point and shaded his
eyes on a sudden. In the bush something flashed brightly.
What unendurable glitter is that? cried he. It might blind a
man.
That is the priest who is aiding the worthy Patrokles; he is giving
us signs, replied Pentuer. Thou seest, then, worthy lord, that we,
too, can be useful in war time.
He was silent. From the distance of the valley came a certain sound;
at first low, gradually it grew clearer. At this sound the Egyptian
soldiers hidden at the sides of the hill began to spring up, look at
their weapons, and whisper. But the sharp commands of officers quieted
them, and again the silence was deathlike along the cliffs on the north
side.
Meanwhile that distant sound in the valley increased and passed into
an uproar in which, on the bases of thousands of voices a man could
distinguish songs, sounds of flutes, squeaks of chariots, the neighing
of horses, and the cries of commanders. The prince's heart was now
beating with violence; he could not resist his curiosity, and he
clambered up to a rocky height whence a large part of the valley was
visible.
Surrounded by rolls of yellow dust the Libyan corps was approaching
deliberately, and seemed like a serpent some miles in length, with
blue, white, and red spots on its body.
At its head marched from ten to twenty horsemen, one of whom,
wearing a white mantle, was sitting on his horse as on a bench, both
his legs on the left side of the animal. Behind the horsemen marched a
crowd of slingers in gray shirts, then some dignitary in a litter, over
whom a large parasol was carried. Farther was a division of spearmen in
blue and red shirts, then a great band of men almost naked, armed with
clubs, again slingers and spearmen, behind them a red division with
scythes and axes. They came on more or less in ranks of four; but in
spite of shouts of officers, that order was interrupted, and each four
treading on others, broke ranks continually.
Singing and talking loudly, the Libyan serpent crawled out into the
broadest part of the valley, opposite the huts and the Soda Lakes.
Order was disturbed now more considerably. Those marching in advance
stopped, for it had been said that there would be a halt at that point;
the columns behind hurried so as to reach the halt and rest all the
earlier. Some ran out of the ranks, and laying down their weapons,
rushed into the lake, or took up in their palms its malodorous water;
others, sitting on the ground, took dates from bags, or drank vinegar
and water from their bottles.
High above the camp floated a number of vultures.
Unspeakable sadness and terror seized Ramses at this spectacle.
Before his eyes flies began to circle; for the twinkle of an eye he
lost consciousness; it seemed to him that he would have yielded his
throne not to be at that place, and not to see what was going to
happen. He hurried down from |