The destination of the dwarf was a very large and gaudy tent, not in any
way distinguished from a dozen others in its neighborhood. The opening
which led into it was wide, but at present closed by a hanging of coarse
stuff.
Nemu squeezed himself in between the edge of the tent and the yielding
door, and found himself in an almost circular tent with many angles, and
with its cone-shaped roof supported on a pole by way of a pillar.
Pieces of shabby carpet lay on the dusty soil that was the floor of the
tent, and on these squatted some gaily-clad girls, whom an old woman was
busily engaged in dressing. She painted the finger and toenails of
the fair ones with orange-colored Hennah, blackened their brows and
eye-lashes with Mestem--[Antimony.]--to give brilliancy to their glance,
painted their cheeks with white and red, and anointed their hair with
scented oil.
It was very hot in the tent, and not one of the girls spoke a word; they
sat perfectly still before the old woman, and did not stir a finger,
excepting now and then to take up one of the porous clay pitchers, which
stood on the ground, for a draught of water, or to put a pill of Kyphi
between their painted lips.
Various musical instruments leaned against the walls of the tent,
hand-drums, pipes and lutes and four tambourines lay on the ground; on
the vellum of one slept a cat, whose graceful kittens played with the
bells in the hoop of another.
An old negro-woman went in and out of the little back-door of the tent,
pursued by flies and gnats, while she cleared away a variety of earthen
dishes with the remains of food--pomegranate-peelings, breadcrumbs, and
garlic-tops--which had been lying on one of the carpets for some hours
since the girls had finished their dinner.
Old Hekt sat apart from the girls on a painted trunk, and she was
saying, as she took a parcel from her wallet:
"Here, take this incense, and burn six seeds of it, and the vermin will
all disappear--" she pointed to the flies that swarmed round the platter
in her hand. "If you like I will drive away the mice too and draw the
snakes out of their holes better than the priests."
[Recipes for exterminating noxious creatures are found in the
papyrus in my possession.]
"Keep your magic to yourself," said a girl in a husky voice. "Since
you muttered your words over me, and gave me that drink to make me grow
slight and lissom again, I have been shaken to pieces with a cough at
night, and turn faint when I am dancing."
"But look how slender you have grown," answered Hekt, "and your cough
will soon be well."
"When I am dead," whispered the girl to the old woman. "I know that most
of us end so."
The witch shrugged her shoulders, and perceiving the dwarf she rose from
her seat.
The girls too noticed the little man, and set up the indescribable cry,
something like the cackle of hens, which is peculiar to Eastern women
when something tickles their fancy. Nemu was well known to them, for his
mother always stayed in their tent whenever she came to Thebes, and the
gayest of them cried out:
"You are grown, little man, since the last time you were here."
"So are you," said the dwarf sharply; "but only as far as big words are
concerned."
"And you are as wicked as you are small," retorted the girl.
"Then my wickedness is small too," said the dwarf laughing, "for I am
little enough! Good morning, girls--may Besa help your beauty. Good day,
mother--you sent for me?"
The old woman nodded; the dwarf perched himself on the chest beside her,
and they began to whisper together.
"How dusty and tired you are," said Hekt. I do believe you have come on
foot in the burning sun."
"My ass is dead," replied Nemu, "and I have no money to hire a steed."
"A foretaste of future splendor," said the old woman with a sneer. "What
have you succeeded in doing?"
"Paaker has saved us," replied Nemu, "and I have just come from a long
interview with the Regent."
"Well?"
"He will renew your letter of freedom, if you will put Paaker into his
power."
"Good-good. I wish he would make up his mind to come and seek me--in
disguise, of course--I would--"
"He is very timid, and it would not suggest to him anything so
unpracticable."
"Hm--" said Hekt, "perhaps you are right, for when we have to demand a
good deal it is best only to ask for what is feasible. One rash request
often altogether spoils the patron's inclination for granting favors."
"What else has occurred?"
"The Regent's army has conquered the Ethiopians, and is coming home with
rich spoils."
"People may be bought with treasure," muttered the old woman, "I
good--good!"
"Paaker's sword is sharpened; I would give no more for my master's life,
than I have in my pocket--and you know why I came on foot through the
dust."
"Well, you can ride home again," replied his mother, giving the little
man a small silver ring. "Has the pioneer seen Nefert again?"
"Strange things have happened," said the dwarf, and he told his
mother what had taken place between Katuti and Nefert. Nemu was a good
listener, and had not forgotten a word of what he had heard.
The old woman listened to his story with the most eager attention.
"Well, well," she muttered, "here is another extraordinary thing. What
is common to all men is generally disgustingly similar in the palace
and in the hovel. Mothers are everywhere she-apes, who with pleasure let
themselves be tormented to death by their children, who repay them badly
enough, and the wives generally open their ears wide if any one can tell
them of some misbehavior of their husbands! But that is not the way with
your mistress."
The old woman looked thoughtful, and then she continued:
"In point of fact this can be easily explained, and is not at all more
extraordinary than it is that those tired girls should sit yawning. You
told me once that it was a pretty sight to see the mother and daughter
side by side in their chariot when they go to a festival or the
Panegyrai; Katuti, you said, took care that the colors of their dresses
and the flowers in their hair should harmonize. For which of them is the
dress first chosen on such occasions?"
"Always for the lady Katuti, who never wears any but certain colors,"
replied Nemu quickly.
"You see," said the witch laughing, "Indeed it must be so. That mother
always thinks of herself first, and of the objects she wishes to gain;
but they hang high, and she treads down everything that is in her
way--even her own child--to reach them. She will contrive that Paaker
shall be the ruin of Mena, as sure as I have ears to hear with, for
that woman is capable of playing any tricks with her daughter, and would
marry her to that lame dog yonder if it would advance her ambitious
schemes."
"But Nefert!" said Nemu. "You should have seen her. The dove became a
lioness."
"Because she loves Mena as much as her mother loves herself," answered
Hekt. "As the poets say, 'she is full of him.' It is really true of her,
there is no room for any thing else. She cares for one only, and woe to
those who come between him and her!"
"I have seen other women in love," said Nemu, "but--"
"But," exclaimed the old witch with such a sharp laugh that the girls
all looked up, "they behaved differently to Nefert--I believe you, for
there is not one in a thousand that loves as she does. It is a sickness
that gives raging pain--like a poisoned arrow in an open wound, and
devours all that is near it like a fire-brand, and is harder to cure
than the disease which is killing that coughing wench. To be possessed
by that demon of anguish is to suffer the torture of the damned--or
else," and her voice sank to softness, "to be more blest than the Gods,
happy as they are. I know--I know it all; for I was once one of the
possessed, one of a thousand, and even now--"
"Well?" asked the dwarf.
"Folly!" muttered the witch, stretching herself as if awaking from
sleep. "Madness! He--is long since dead, and if he were not it would be
all the same to me. All men are alike, and Mena will be like the rest."
"But Paaker surely is governed by the demon you describe?" asked the
dwarf.
"May be," replied his mother; "but he is self-willed to madness. He
would simply give his life for the thing because it is denied him. If
your mistress Nefert were his, perhaps he might be easier; but what is
the use of chattering? I must go over to the gold tent, where everyone
goes now who has any money in their purse, to speak to the mistress--"
"What do you want with her?" interrupted Nemu. "Little Uarda over
there," said the old woman, "will soon be quite well again. You have
seen her lately; is she not grown beautiful, wonderfully beautiful? Now
I shall see what the good woman will offer me if I take Uarda to her?
the girl is as light-footed as a gazelle, and with good training would
learn to dance in a very few weeks."
Nemu turned perfectly white.
"That you shall not do," said he positively.
"And why not?" asked the old woman, "if it pays well."
"Because I forbid it," said the dwarf in a choked voice.
"Bless me," laughed the woman; "you want to play my lady Nefert, and
expect me to take the part of her mother Katuti. But, seriously, having
seen the child again, have you any fancy for her?"
"Yes," replied Nemu. "If we gain our end, Katuti will make me free, and
make me rich. Then I will buy Pinem's grandchild, and take her for
my wife. I will build a house near the hall of justice, and give the
complainants and defendants private advice, like the hunch-back Sent,
who now drives through the streets in his own chariot."
"Hm--" said his mother, "that might have done very well, but perhaps it
is too late. When the child had fever she talked about the young priest
who was sent from the House of Seti by Ameni. He is a fine tall
fellow, and took a great interest in her; he is a gardener's son, named
Pentaur."
"Pentaur?" said the dwarf. "Pentaur? He has the haughty air and the
expression of the old Mohar, and would be sure to rise; but they are
going to break his proud neck for him."
"So much the better," said the old woman. "Uarda would be just the wife
for you, she is good and steady, and no one knows--"
"What?" said Nemu.
"Who her mother was--for she was not one of us. She came here from
foreign parts, and when she died she left a trinket with strange letters
on it. We must show it to one of the prisoners of war, after you have
got her safe; perhaps they could make out the queer inscription. She
comes of a good stock, that I am certain; for Uarda is the very living
image of her mother, and as soon as she was born, she looked like the
child of a great man. You smile, you idiot! Why thousands of infants
have been in my hands, and if one was brought to me wrapped in rags I
could tell if its parents were noble or base-born. The shape of the foot
shows it--and other marks. Uarda may stay where she is, and I will help
you. If anything new occurs let me know."
CHAPTER XXI.
When Nemu, riding on an ass this time, reached home, he found neither
his mistress nor Nefert within.
The former was gone, first to the temple, and then into the town;
Nefert, obeying an irresistible impulse, had gone to her royal friend
Bent-Anat.
The king's palace was more like a little town than a house. The wing in
which the Regent resided, and which we have already visited, lay away
from the river; while the part of the building which was used by the
royal family commanded the Nile.
It offered a splendid, and at the same time a pleasing prospect to the
ships which sailed by at its foot, for it stood, not a huge and solitary
mass in the midst of the surrounding gardens, but in picturesque groups
of various outline. On each side of a large structure, which contained
the state rooms and banqueting hall, three rows of pavilions of
different sizes extended in symmetrical order. They were connected
with each other by colonnades, or by little bridges, under which flowed
canals, that watered the gardens and gave the palace-grounds the aspect
of a town built on islands.
The principal part of the castle of the Pharaohs was constructed of
light Nile-mud bricks and elegantly carved woodwork, but the extensive
walls which surrounded it were ornamented and fortified with towers, in
front of which heavily armed soldiers stood on guard.
The walls and pillars, the galleries and colonnades, even the roofs,
blazed in many colored paints, and at every gate stood tall masts, from
which red and blue flags fluttered when the king was residing there.
Now they stood up with only their brass spikes, which were intended
to intercept and conduct the lightning.--[ According to an inscription
first interpreted by Dumichen.]
To the right of the principal building, and entirely surrounded with
thick plantations of trees, stood the houses of the royal ladies,
some mirrored in the lake which they surrounded at a greater or less
distance. In this part of the grounds were the king's storehouses in
endless rows, while behind the centre building, in which the Pharaoh
resided, stood the barracks for his body guard and the treasuries. The
left wing was occupied by the officers of the household, the innumerable
servants and the horses and chariots of the sovereign.
In spite of the absence of the king himself, brisk activity reigned in
the palace of Rameses, for a hundred gardeners watered the turf, the
flower-borders, the shrubs and trees; companies of guards passed hither
and thither; horses were being trained and broken; and the princess's
wing was as full as a beehive of servants and maids, officers and
priests.
Nefert was well known in this part of the palace. The gate-keepers let
her litter pass unchallenged, with low bows; once in the garden, a lord
in waiting received her, and conducted her to the chamberlain, who,
after a short delay, introduced her into the sitting-room of the king's
favorite daughter.
Bent-Anat's apartment was on the first floor of the pavilion, next
to the king's residence. Her dead mother had inhabited these pleasant
rooms, and when the princess was grown up it made the king happy to feel
that she was near him; so the beautiful house of the wife who had too
early departed, was given up to her, and at the same time, as she
was his eldest daughter, many privileges were conceded to her, which
hitherto none but queens had enjoyed.
The large room, in which Nefert found the princess, commanded the river.
A doorway, closed with light curtains, opened on to a long balcony with
a finely-worked balustrade of copper-gilt, to which clung a climbing
rose with pink flowers.
When Nefert entered the room, Bent-Anat was just having the rustling
curtain drawn aside by her waiting-women; for the sun was setting, and
at that hour she loved to sit on the balcony, as it grew cooler,
and watch with devout meditation the departure of Ra, who, as the
grey-haired Turn, vanished behind the western horizon of the Necropolis
in the evening to bestow the blessing of light on the under-world.
Nefert's apartment was far more elegantly appointed than the princess's;
her mother and Mena had surrounded her with a thousand pretty trifles.
Her carpets were made of sky-blue and silver brocade from Damascus, the
seats and couches were covered with stuff embroidered in feathers by the
Ethiopian women, which looked like the breasts of birds. The images of
the Goddess Hathor, which stood on the house-altar, were of an imitation
of emerald, which was called Mafkat, and the other little figures, which
were placed near their patroness, were of lapis-lazuli, malachite, agate
and bronze, overlaid with gold. On her toilet-table stood a collection
of salve-boxes, and cups of ebony and ivory finely carved, and
everything was arranged with the utmost taste, and exactly suited Nefert
herself.
Bent-Anat's room also suited the owner.
It was high and airy, and its furniture consisted in costly but simple
necessaries; the lower part of the wall was lined with cool tiles of
white and violet earthen ware, on each of which was pictured a star, and
which, all together, formed a tasteful pattern. Above these the walls
were covered with a beautiful dark green material brought from Sais, and
the same stuff was used to cover the long divans by the wall. Chairs and
stools, made of cane, stood round a very large table in the middle
of this room, out of which several others opened; all handsome,
comfortable, and harmonious in aspect, but all betraying that their
mistress took small pleasure in trifling decorations. But her chief
delight was in finely-grown plants, of which rare and magnificent
specimens, artistically arranged on stands, stood in the corners of many
of the rooms. In others there were tall obelisks of ebony, which bore
saucers for incense, which all the Egyptians loved, and which was
prescribed by their physicians to purify and perfume their dwellings.
Her simple bedroom would have suited a prince who loved floriculture,
quite as well as a princess.
Before all things Bent-Anat loved air and light. The curtains of
her windows and doors were only closed when the position of the sun
absolutely required it; while in Nefert's rooms, from morning till
evening, a dim twilight was maintained.
The princess went affectionately towards the charioteer's wife, who
bowed low before her at the threshold; she took her chin with her right
hand, kissed her delicate narrow forehead, and said:
"Sweet creature! At last you have come uninvited to see lonely me! It is
the first time since our men went away to the war. If Rameses' daughter
commands there is no escape; and you come; but of your own free will--"
Nefert raised her large eyes, moist with tears, with an imploring look,
and her glance was so pathetic that Bent-Anat interrupted herself, and
taking both her hands, exclaimed:
"Do you know who must have eyes exactly like yours? I mean the Goddess
from whose tears, when they fall on the earth, flowers spring."
Nefert's eyes fell and she blushed deeply.
"I wish," she murmured, "that my eyes might close for ever, for I am
very unhappy." And two large tears rolled down her cheeks.
"What has happened to you, my darling?" asked the princess
sympathetically, and she drew her towards her, putting her arm round her
like a sick child.
Nefert glanced anxiously at the chamberlain, and the ladies in waiting
who had entered the room with her, and Bent-Anat understood the look;
she requested her attendants to withdraw, and when she was alone with
her sad little friend--"Speak now," she said. "What saddens your heart?
how comes this melancholy expression on your dear baby face? Tell me,
and I will comfort you, and you shall be my bright thoughtless plaything
once more."
"Thy plaything!" answered Nefert, and a flash of displeasure sparkled in
her eyes. "Thou art right to call me so, for I deserve no better name. I
have submitted all my life to be nothing but the plaything of others."
"But, Nefert, I do not know you again," cried Bent-Anat. "Is this my
gentle amiable dreamer?"
"That is the word I wanted," said Nefert in a low tone. "I slept, and
dreamed, and dreamed on--till Mena awoke me; and when he left me I went
to sleep again, and for two whole years I have lain dreaming; but to-day
I have been torn from my dreams so suddenly and roughly, that I shall
never find any rest again."
While she spoke, heavy tears fell slowly one after another over her
cheeks.
Bent-Anat felt what she saw and heard as deeply as if Nefert were her
own suffering child. She lovingly drew the young wife down by her
side on the divan, and insisted on Nefert's letting her know all that
troubled her spirit.
Katuti's daughter had in the last few hours felt like one born blind,
and who suddenly receives his sight. He looks at the brightness of the
sun, and the manifold forms of the creation around him, but the beams of
the day-star blind its eyes, and the new forms, which he has sought to
guess at in his mind, and which throng round him in their rude reality,
shock him and pain him. To-day, for the first time, she had asked
herself wherefore her mother, and not she herself, was called upon to
control the house of which she nevertheless was called the mistress, and
the answer had rung in her ears: "Because Mena thinks you incapable of
thought and action." He had often called her his little rose, and she
felt now that she was neither more nor less than a flower that blossoms
and fades, and only charms the eye by its color and beauty.
"My mother," she said to Bent-Anat, "no doubt loves me, but she has
managed badly for Mena, very badly; and I, miserable idiot, slept and
dreamed of Mena, and saw and heard nothing of what was happening to
his--to our--inheritance. Now my mother is afraid of my husband, and
those whom we fear, says my uncle, we cannot love, and we are always
ready to believe evil of those we do not love. So she lends an ear to
those people who blame Mena, and say of him that he has driven me out
of his heart, and has taken a strange woman to his tent. But it is false
and a lie; and I cannot and will not countenance my own mother even, if
she embitters and mars what is left to me--what supports me--the breath
and blood of my life--my love, my fervent love for my husband."
Bent-Anat had listened to her without interrupting her; she sat by her
for a time in silence. Then she said:
"Come out into the gallery; then I will tell you what I think, and
perhaps Toth may pour some helpful counsel into my mind. I love you,
and I know you well, and though I am not wise, I have my eyes open and a
strong hand. Take it, come with me on to the balcony."
A refreshing breeze met the two women as they stepped out into the air.
It was evening, and a reviving coolness had succeeded the heat of the
day. The buildings and houses already cast long shadows, and numberless
boats, with the visitors returning from the Necropolis, crowded the
stream that rolled its swollen flood majestically northwards.
Close below lay the verdant garden, which sent odors from the rose-beds
up to the princess's balcony. A famous artist had laid it out in the
time of Hatasu, and the picture which he had in his mind, when he sowed
the seeds and planted the young shoots, was now realized, many decades
after his death. He had thought of planning a carpet, on which the
palace should seem to stand. Tiny streams, in bends and curves, formed
the outline of the design, and the shapes they enclosed were filled with
plants of every size, form, and color; beautiful plats of fresh
green turf everywhere represented the groundwork of the pattern, and
flower-beds and clumps of shrubs stood out from them in harmonious
mixtures of colors, while the tall and rare trees, of which Hatasu's
ships had brought several from Arabia, gave dignity and impressiveness
to the whole.
Clear drops sparkled on leaf and flower and blade, for, only a short
time before, the garden by Bent-Anat's house had been freshly watered.
The Nile beyond surrounded an island, where flourished the well-kept
sacred grove of Anion.
The Necropolis on the farther side of the river was also well seen
from Bent-Anat's balcony. There stood in long perspective the rows of
sphinxes, which led from the landing-place of the festal barges to the
gigantic buildings of Amenophis III. with its colossi--the hugest in
Thebes--to the House of Seti, and to the temple of Hatasu. There lay
the long workshops of the embalmers and closely-packed homes of the
inhabitants of the City of the Dead. In the farthest west rose the
Libyan mountains with their innumerable graves, and the valley of the
kings' tombs took a wide curve behind, concealed by a spur of the hills.
The two women looked in silence towards the west. The sun was near the
horizon--now it touched it, now it sank behind the hills; and as the
heavens flushed with hues like living gold, blazing rubies, and liquid
garnet and amethyst, the evening chant rang out from all the temples,
and the friends sank on their knees, hid their faces in the bower-rose
garlands that clung to the trellis, and prayed with full hearts.
When they rose night was spreading over the landscape, for the twilight
is short in Thebes. Here and there a rosy cloud fluttered across the
darkening sky, and faded gradually as the evening star appeared.
"I am content," said Bent-Anat. "And you? have you recovered your peace
of mind?"
Nefert shook her head. The princess drew her on to a seat, and sank down
beside her. Then she began again "Your heart is sore, poor child; they
have spoilt the past for you, and you dread the future. Let me be frank
with you, even if it gives you pain. You are sick, and I must cure you.
Will you listen to me?"
"Speak on," said Nefert.
"Speech does not suit me so well as action," replied the princess; "but
I believe I know what you need, and can help you. You love your husband;
duty calls him from you, and you feel lonely and neglected; that is
quite natural. But those whom I love, my father and my brothers, are
also gone to the war; my mother is long since dead; the noble woman,
whom the king left to be my companion, was laid low a few weeks since
by sickness. Look what a half-abandoned spot my house is! Which is the
lonelier do you think, you or I?"
"I," said Nefert. "For no one is so lonely as a wife parted from the
husband her heart longs after."
"But you trust Mena's love for you?" asked Bent-Anat.
Nefert pressed her hand to her heart and nodded assent:
"And he will return, and with him your happiness."
"I hope so," said Nefert softly.
"And he who hopes," said Bent Anat, "possesses already the joys of the
future. Tell me, would you have changed places with the Gods so long
as Mena was with you? No! Then you are most fortunate, for blissful
memories--the joys of the past--are yours at any rate. What is the
present? I speak of it, and it is no more. Now, I ask you, what joys can
I look forward to, and what certain happiness am I justified in hoping
for?
"Thou dost not love any one," replied Nefert. "Thou dost follow thy own
course, calm and undeviating as the moon above us. The highest joys
are unknown to thee, but for the same reason thou dost not know the
bitterest pain."
"What pain?" asked the princess.
"The torment of a heart consumed by the fires of Sechet," replied
Nefert.
The princess looked thoughtfully at the ground, then she turned her eyes
eagerly on her friend.
"You are mistaken," she said; "I know what love and longing are. But
you need only wait till a feast day to wear the jewel that is your own,
while my treasure is no more mine than a pearl that I see gleaming at
the bottom of the sea."
"Thou canst love!" exclaimed Nefert with joyful excitement. "Oh! I thank
Hathor that at last she has touched thy heart. The daughter of Rameses
need not even send for the diver to fetch the jewel out of the sea; at a
sign from her the pearl will rise of itself, and lie on the sand at her
slender feet."
Bent-Anat smiled and kissed Nefert's brow.
"How it excites you," she said, "and stirs your heart and tongue! If two
strings are tuned in harmony, and one is struck, the other sounds, my
music master tells me. I believe you would listen to me till morning if
I only talked to you about my love. But it was not for that that we
came out on the balcony. Now listen! I am as lonely as you, I love less
happily than you, the House of Seti threatens me with evil times--and
yet I can preserve my full confidence in life and my joy in existence.
How can you explain this?"
"We are so very different," said Nefert.
"True," replied Bent-Anat, "but we are both young, both women, and both
wish to do right. My mother died, and I have had no one to guide me, for
I who for the most part need some one to lead me can already command,
and be obeyed. You had a mother to bring you up, who, when you were
still a child, was proud of her pretty little daughter, and let her--as
it became her so well-dream and play, without warning her against the
dangerous propensity. Then Mena courted you. You love him truly, and
in four long years he has been with you but a month or two; your mother
remained with you, and you hardly observed that she was managing your
own house for you, and took all the trouble of the household. You had
a great pastime of your own--your thoughts of Mena, and scope for a
thousand dreams in your distant love. I know it, Nefert; all that you
have seen and heard and felt in these twenty months has centred in him
and him alone. Nor is it wrong in itself. The rose tree here, which
clings to my balcony, delights us both; but if the gardener did not
frequently prune it and tie it with palm-bast, in this soil, which
forces everything to rapid growth, it would soon shoot up so high that
it would cover door and window, and I should sit in darkness. Throw this
handkerchief over your shoulders, for the dew falls as it grows cooler,
and listen to me a little longer!--The beautiful passion of love and
fidelity has grown unchecked in your dreamy nature to such a height,
that it darkens your spirit and your judgment. Love, a true love, it
seems to me, should be a noble fruit-tree, and not a rank weed. I do not
blame you, for she who should have been the gardener did not heed--and
would not heed--what was happening. Look, Nefert, so long as I wore the
lock of youth, I too did what I fancied--I never found any pleasure in
dreaming, but in wild games with my brothers, in horses and in falconry;
they often said I had the spirit of a boy, and indeed I would willingly
have been a boy."
"Not I--never!" said Nefert.
"You are just a rose--my dearest," said Bent-Anat. "Well! when I was
fifteen I was so discontented, so insubordinate and full of all sorts
of wild behavior, so dissatisfied in spite of all the kindness and love
that surrounded me--but I will tell you what happened. It is four years
ago, shortly before your wedding with Mena; my father called me to play
draughts.
[At Medinet Habu a picture represents Rameses the Third, not Rameses
the Second, playing at draughts with his daughter.]
You know how certainly he could beat the most skilful antagonist;
but that day his thoughts were wandering, and I won the game twice
following. Full of insolent delight, I jumped up and kissed his great
handsome forehead, and cried 'The sublime God, the hero, under whose
feet the strange nations writhe, to whom the priests and the people
pray--is beaten by a girl!' He smiled gently, and answered 'The Lords of
Heaven are often outdone by the Ladies, and Necheb, the lady of victory,
is a woman. Then he grew graver, and said: 'You call me a God, my child,
but in this only do I feel truly godlike, that at every moment I strive
to the utmost to prove myself useful by my labors; here restraining,
there promoting, as is needful. Godlike I can never be but by doing or
producing something great! These words, Nefert, fell like seeds in my
soul. At last I knew what it was that was wanting to me; and when, a few
weeks later, my father and your husband took the field with a hundred
thousand fighting men, I resolved to be worthy of my godlike father, and
in my little circle to be of use too! You do not know all that is done
in the houses behind there, under my direction. Three hundred girls
spin pure flax, and weave it into bands of linen for the wounds of
the soldiers; numbers of children, and old women, gather plants on
the mountains, and others sort them according to the instructions of
a physician; in the kitchens no banquets are prepared, but fruits are
preserved in sugar for the loved ones, and the sick in the camp. Joints
of meat are salted, dried, and smoked for the army on its march through
the desert. The butler no longer thinks of drinking-bouts, but brings
me wine in great stone jars; we pour it into well-closed skins for the
soldiers, and the best sorts we put into strong flasks, carefully sealed
with pitch, that they may perform the journey uninjured, and warm and
rejoice the hearts of our heroes. All that, and much more, I manage
and arrange, and my days pass in hard work. The Gods send me no bright
visions in the night, for after utter fatigue--I sleep soundly. But
I know that I am of use. I can hold my head proudly, because in some
degree I resemble my great father; and if the king thinks of me at all
I know he can rejoice in the doings of his child. That is the end of it,
Nefert--and I only say, Come and join me, work with me, prove yourself
of use, and compel Mena to think of his wife, not with affection only,
but with pride." Nefert let her head sink slowly on Bent-Anat's bosom,
threw her arms round her neck, and wept like a child. At last she
composed herself and said humbly:
"Take me to school, and teach me to be useful." "I knew," said the
princess smiling, "that you only needed a guiding hand. Believe me, you
will soon learn to couple content and longing. But now hear this! At
present go home to your mother, for it is late; and meet her lovingly,
for that is the will of the Gods. To-morrow morning I will go to see
you, and beg Katuti to let you come to me as companion in the place
of my lost friend. The day after to-morrow you will come to me in the
palace. You can live in the rooms of my departed friend and begin, as
she had done, to help me in my work. May these hours be blest to you!"
CHAPTER XXII.
At the time of this conversation the leech Nebsecht still lingered
in front of the hovel of the paraschites, and waited with growing
impatience for the old man's return.
At first he trembled for him; then he entirely forgot the danger into
which he had thrown him, and only hoped for the fulfilment of his
desires, and for wonderful revelations through his investigations of the
human heart.
For some minutes he gave himself up to scientific considerations; but he
became more and more agitated by anxiety for the paraschites, and by the
exciting vicinity of Uarda.
For hours he had been alone with her, for her father and grandmother
could no longer stop away from their occupations. The former must go
to escort prisoners of war to Hermonthis, and the old woman, since her
granddaughter had been old enough to undertake the small duties of
the household, had been one of the wailing-women, who, with hair all
dishevelled, accompanied the corpse on its way to the grave, weeping,
and lamenting, and casting Nile-mud on their forehead and breast. Uarda
still lay, when the sun was sinking, in front of the hut.
She looked weary and pale. Her long hair had come undone, and once more
got entangled with the straw of her humble couch. If Nebsecht went near
her to feel her pulse or to speak to her she carefully turned her face
from him.
Nevertheless when the sun disappeared behind the rocks he bent over her
once more, and said:
"It is growing cool; shall I carry you indoors?"
"Let me alone," she said crossly. "I am hot, keep farther away. I am no
longer ill, and could go indoors by myself if I wished; but grandmother
will be here directly."
Nebsecht rose, and sat down on a hen-coop that was some paces from
Uarda, and asked stammering, "Shall I go farther off?"
"Do as you please," she answered. "You are not kind," he said sadly.
"You sit looking at me," said Uarda, "I cannot bear it; and I am
uneasy--for grandfather was quite different this morning from his usual
self, and talked strangely about dying, and about the great price that
was asked of him for curing me. Then he begged me never to forget him,
and was so excited and so strange. He is so long away; I wish he were
here, with me."
And with these words Uarda began to cry silently. A nameless anxiety for
the paraschites seized Nebsecht, and it struck him to the heart that he
had demanded a human life in return for the mere fulfilment of a
duty. He knew the law well enough, and knew that the old man would be
compelled without respite or delay to empty the cup of poison if he were
found guilty of the theft of a human heart.
It was dark: Uarda ceased weeping and said to the surgeon:
"Can it be possible that he has gone into the city to borrow the great
sum of money that thou--or thy temple--demanded for thy medicine? But
there is the princess's golden bracelet, and half of father's prize, and
in the chest two years' wages that grandmother had earned by wailing he
untouched. Is all that not enough?"
The girl's last question was full of resentment and reproach, and
Nebsecht, whose perfect sincerity was part of his very being, was
silent, as he would not venture to say yes. He had asked more in return
for his help than gold or silver. Now he remembered Pentaur's warning,
and when the jackals began to bark he took up the fire-stick,
[The hieroglyphic sign Sam seems to me to represent the wooden stick
used to produce fire (as among some savage tribes) by rapid friction
in a hollow piece of wood.]
and lighted some fuel that was lying ready. Then he asked himself what
Uarda's fate would be without her grandparents, and a strange plan
which had floated vaguely before him for some hours, began now to take a
distinct outline and intelligible form. He determined if the old man
did not return to ask the kolchytes or embalmers to admit him into their
guild--and for the sake of his adroitness they were not likely to refuse
him--then he would make Uarda his wife, and live apart from the world,
for her, for his studies, and for his new calling, in which he hoped to
learn a great deal. What did he care for comfort and proprieties, for
recognition from his fellow-men, and a superior position!
He could hope to advance more quickly along the new stony path than on
the old beaten track. The impulse to communicate his acquired knowledge
to others he did not feel. Knowledge in itself amply satisfied him, and
he thought no more of his ties to the House of Seti. For three whole
days he had not changed his garments, no razor had touched his chin or
his scalp, not a drop of water had wetted his hands or his feet. He felt
half bewildered and almost as if he had already become an embalmer,
nay even a paraschites, one of the most despised of human beings. This
self-degradation had an infinite charm, for it brought him down to the
level of Uarda, and she, lying near him, sick and anxious, with her
dishevelled hair, exactly suited the future which he painted to himself.
"Do you hear nothing?" Uarda asked suddenly. He listened. In the valley
there was a barking of dogs, and soon the paraschites and his wife
appeared, and, at the door of their hut, took leave of old Hekt, who had
met them on her return from Thebes.
"You have been gone a long time," cried Uarda, when her grandmother once
more stood before her. "I have been so frightened."
"The doctor was with you," said the old woman going into the house
to prepare their simple meal, while the paraschites knelt down by his
granddaughter, and caressed her tenderly, but yet with respect, as if he
were her faithful servant rather than her blood-relation.
Then he rose, and gave to Nebsecht, who was trembling with excitement,
the bag of coarse linen which he was in the habit of carrying tied to
him by a narrow belt.
"The heart is in that," he whispered to the leech; "take it out, and
give me back the bag, for my knife is in it, and I want it."
Nebsecht took the heart out of the covering with trembling hands and
laid it carefully down. Then he felt in the breast of his dress, and
going up to the paraschites he whispered:
"Here, take the writing, hang it round your neck, and when you die I
will have the book of scripture wrapped up in your mummy cloths like a
great man. But that is not enough. The property that I inherited is in
the hands of my brother, who is a good man of business, and I have not
touched the interest for ten years. I will send it to you, and you and
your wife shall enjoy an old age free from care."
The paraschites had taken the little bag with the strip of papyrus, and
heard the leech to the end. Then he turned from him saying: "Keep thy
money; we are quits. That is if the child gets well," he added humbly.
"She is already half cured," stammered Nebsecht. "But why will you--why
won't you accept--"
"Because till to day I have never begged nor borrowed," said the
paraschites, "and I will not begin in my old age. Life for life. But
what I have done this day not Rameses with all his treasure could
repay."
Nebsecht looked down, and knew not how to answer the old man.
His wife now came out; she set a bowl of lentils that she had hastily
warmed before the two men, with radishes and onions,
[Radishes, onions, and garlic were the hors-d'oeuvre of an Egyptian
dinner. 1600 talents worth were consumed, according to Herodotus.
during the building of the pyramid of Cheops--L360,000 (in 1881.)]
then she helped Uarda, who did not need to be carried, into the house,
and invited Nebsecht to share their meal. He accepted her invitation,
for he had eaten nothing since the previous evening.
When the old woman had once more disappeared indoors, he asked the
paraschites:
"Whose heart is it that you have brought me, and how did it come into
your hands?"
"Tell me first," said the other, "why thou hast laid such a heavy sin
upon my soul?"
"Because I want to investigate the structure of the human heart," said
Nebsecht, "so that, when I meet with diseased hearts, I may be able to
cure them."
The paraschites looked for a long time at the ground in silence; then he
said:
"Art thou speaking the truth?"
"Yes," replied the leech with convincing emphasis. "I am glad," said the
old man, "for thou givest help to the poor."
"As willingly as to the rich!" exclaimed Nebsecht. "But tell me now where you got the heart." |
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