The Pharaoh and the Priest: An Historical Novel of Ancient Egypt

  CHAPTER XXXIV

  It was the month Thoth. In the city of Pi-Bast and its environs theconcourse of people had begun, because of heat, to diminish. But thecourt of Rameses amused itself always, and people talked of what hadhappened in the amphitheatre.

  Courtiers praised the courage of the prince, maladroit men wonderedat the strength of Sargon, the priests whispered with important mienthat in every case the heir to the throne should not involve himselfin bull-fights: for that there were men who were hired, or who, atleast, did not possess public veneration.

  Either Rameses did not hear these various opinions, or did notconsider them. As to the spectacle, two episodes were fixed in hismemory: victory over the bull had been snatched from him by theAssyrian, who had also paid court to Kama, and she had received hisattentions most willingly.

  Since he might not bring the Phoenician priestess to his palace, hesent one day a letter to her in which he declared that he wished tosee her, and inquired when she would receive him. Through the samemessenger Kama replied that she would wait for him that evening.

  Barely had the stars shown themselves, when the prince (with thegreatest secrecy, as he thought) slipped out of the palace, and wentto 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 dooropen. In the dark antechamber she kissed his hand, whispering that shewould have died had the raging bull injured him in the arena.

  "But now thou must be at rest, since thy lover saved me," said theprince.

  When they entered the lighted chamber, Rameses saw that Kama wasweeping.

  "What does this mean?" inquired he.

  "The heart of my lord has turned from me," said she; "but perhapsjustly."

  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 dreadfulAssyrian."

  Rameses sprang from his seat.

  "Am I dreaming," cried he, "or has Set cast his curse on me? Thou, apriestess, guarding the fire before the altar of Astaroth,--thou, whounder 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 Ideserve it. Sargon wishes to take me as his first wife. According toour 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 KingAssar."

  "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 takePhoenicia 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 secondtime to avert misfortune from Phoenicia. We had our first prayersbefore thou didst come to us."

  "Why do ye pray now?"

  "Because the Chaldean priest Istubar has just come to Egypt withletters, in which King Assar appoints Sargon his ambassador toconclude 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 liveAssyria 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 wishit, I am ready."

  "I wish thee to live," whispered he, impassioned,--"to live, belongingto 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 notto see to-morrow's sun."

  "Be at rest," replied the prince, seriously. "Whoso has my favor willnot experience injustice."

  Kama knelt before him a second time.

  "How can that be?" asked she, clasping her hands.

  Rameses was so roused that he had forgotten his position and hisduties; he was ready to promise the priestess even marriage. He wasrestrained from that step, not by judgment, but by some dumb instinct.

  "How can this be? How can this be?" whispered Kama, devouring him withher glances and kissing his feet.

  The prince raised her, seated her at a distance from him, and saidwith a smile,--

  "Thou askest how this can be--I will explain immediately. My lastteacher, before I reached maturity, was a certain old priest, who knewa multitude of marvellous 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, Iknow not why; he even dreaded them. Very frequently he described theperversity of women, and once, to show how great the power is which yewield over men, he told me the following history:--

  "A certain scribe, young and indigent, who had not an uten in hispurse, who had nothing save a barley cake, travelled down from Thebesto Lower Egypt while seeking for employment. Men said that in thenorth dwelt the richest lords and merchants, and that in case of luckhe 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 aboat, and he pondered,--

  "'How improvident are men inheriting a talent or two, or even tentalents! Instead of adding to their wealth by traffic, or by lendingat high interest,' thought he, 'these men waste what they have, to nopurpose. Had I a drachma,--well, one drachma is too little,--but had Ione 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 wealthiestnomarch.

  "'But how begin!' said he, sighing. 'Only fools are favored by thegods; and I am filled with wisdom from my wig to my two naked heels.If in my heart a grain of dulness lurks, it is perhaps my inability tosquander, and I should not even know how to set about a work sogodless in its object.'

  "As the needy scribe was thus musing, he passed a mud hut at which satsome man, neither old nor young, with a very keen glance, whichreached to the depth of whatever heart came before him. The scribe, aswise as a stork, thought at once that this must be some divinity; sohe bowed down and said to him,--

  "'I greet thee, worthy master of this splendid mansion. I grieve thatI have neither meat nor wine, so as to divide them between us, in signthat I respect thee, and that whatever I own is thy property.'

  "This kindness of the scribe was pleasing to Amon, for he it was, inhuman aspect. He looked at the scribe, and inquired of him,--

  "'Of what wert thou thinking while passing along here? for I seewisdom on thy forehead, and I am of those who seize words of truth aspartridges pick up wheat kernels.'

  "The scribe sighed.

  "'I was thinking,' said he, 'of my misery, and of those frivolous richmen who spend their wealth without knowing why or in what manner.'

  "'And wouldst thou not waste wealth?' inquired the god, retaininghuman semblance.

  "'Look at me, lord,' said the scribe. 'I have a tattered rag around myhips, and on the road I have lost my sandals; but my papyrus and reedI bear with me at all times, as I do the heart in my body. Both whilerising in the morning and lying down at night, I repeat that wisepoverty is far better than foolish riches. If I know how to expressmyself in two kinds of writing and to solve the most complicatedproblems, if I
know all plants and every beast beneath the sky, thoumayst judge whether I, the master of such lore, am capable of wastingproperty.'

  "The god pondered awhile, and continued,--

  "'Thy speech flows as vigorously as the Nile at Memphis; but if thouart 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 thename Amon in two manners on the door of the hut, and so clearly thateven 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 thefollowing 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 beforethe sun had set, he answered that they should give twenty-eight eggsfor seven partridges.

  "The almighty Amon smiled when he saw before him a sage of suchuncommon proportions, and answered,--

  "'I recognize that thou hast spoken truth concerning thy wisdom. Ifthou shalt appear equally enduring in virtue I will so arrange thatthou shalt be happy to the end of life, and after death thy sons shallplace thy shade in a beautiful tomb. But now tell me: what wealth dostthou 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 bewealthy.'

  "'Well,' said the god, 'but first look around and see if it wouldsuffice thee.'

  "He led him into the hut, and said,--

  "'Thou hast four caps and skirts, two mantles for bad weather, and twopairs of sandals. Here is a fire, here a bench on which thou maystsleep, a mortar for crushing wheat, and a pan for dough.'

  "'But what is this?' asked the scribe, pointing to a certain figurecovered with linen.

  "'That is one thing which thou must not touch; if thou do, thou wiltlose all thy property.'

  "'Ai!' cried the scribe. 'That may remain a thousand years there; Iwill not trouble it. With permission of thy honor, what estate is thatover there?' and he bent through the hut window.

  "'Thou hast spoken wisely,' said Amon, 'for that is an estate, andeven a fine one. It is composed of fifty measures of land. There is aspacious house on it, some tens of cattle, and ten slaves belong tothe 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 barleycake would not prefer a loaf of wheaten bread?'

  "When he heard this, Amon repeated a formula, and that moment bothwere in the mansion.

  "'Here thou hast,' said the god, 'a carved bed, five tables, and tenarmchairs; thou hast embroidered clothing, thou hast pitchers, andglass bottles for wine, a lamp for olive oil, and a litter.'

  "'And what is this?' asked the scribe, pointing to a figure robed inmuslin 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, afterwisdom, I consider wealth the highest blessing.'

  "'But what do I see?' inquired he after a while, pointing to animmense palace in a garden.

  "'Over there is a princely estate,' replied the god. 'That is apalace, five hundred measures of land, one hundred slaves, and twohundred head of cattle. That is a grand property; but if thou thinkthy wisdom sufficient to manage it--'

  "The scribe fell again at the feet of Amon, and covered himself withtears of delight.

  "'O lord,' said he, 'is there on earth a mad man who instead of agoblet of beer would not take a cask of wine?'

  "'Thy words are worthy of the sage who can make the most difficultreckonings,' said Amon.

  "He pronounced the mighty words of the formula; the god and the scribefound themselves in the palace.

  "'Here thou hast,' said the kind god, 'a dining-hall; in it gold andgilded curtains, and armchairs, also tables inlaid with woods ofvarious colors. In the lower story is a kitchen for five cooks; astorehouse where thou wilt find all kinds of meat, fish, bread;finally, a cellar with perfect wines in it. Thou hast a bedchamberwith a movable roof, with which thy slaves will cool thee while thouart sleeping. I turn attention to the bed, which is made of cedarwood, and rests on four lion legs cast from bronze skilfully. Thouhast a wardrobe filled with linen and woollen garments; in casketsthou wilt find rings, chains, and bracelets.'

  "'But what is this?' asked the scribe, pointing to a figure coveredwith 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 fewsuch estates in Egypt, I assure thee. Moreover, I must say that in thetreasury here there are ten talents in gold and precious stones inaddition.'

  "'My sovereign,' cried the scribe, 'permit that the first place inthis palace be held by thy sacred statue, before which I will burnincense 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 whichwine is no better than swill,' said the scribe; 'let that veiledfigure do penance here for a hundred millenniums, I will not touchit.'

  "'Remember that if thou do thou wilt lose all thou hast,' cried thegod; and he vanished.

  "The scribe, now made happy, walked up and down through his palace andlooked out through the windows. He examined the treasury and tried thegold in his hands; it was heavy. He looked at the precious stones;they were genuine. He commanded to serve him with food; in rushedslaves immediately, bathed him, shaved him, arrayed him in finegarments. He ate and drank as he never had drunk and eaten; his hungerjoined with the perfection of the food gave a marvellous taste to it.He burnt incense before the statue of Amon, and wreathed it with freshflowers. Later he sat down at a window.

  "In the courtyard a pair of horses were neighing; they were harnessedto a carved chariot. In another place a crowd of men with darts andnets were keeping down eager dogs which were tearing away to chaseanimals. Before a granary one scribe was receiving grain fromearth-tillers; before the stable another scribe was receivingreckoning from the overseer of the shepherds.

  "In the distance were visible an olive grove, high hills covered withgrape-vines, wheat-fields, and on every field were date palms set outthickly.

  "'In truth,' said he to himself, 'I am rich to-day, just as wasproper; and I only wonder how I endured life so long in abasement andmisery. I must confess, too, that I do not know whether I can increasethis immense property, for I need no more now, and I shall not havetime to run after investments.'

  "But after a while it was tedious in the house for him; so he lookedat the garden, went around the fields, talked with the servants, whofell on their faces in his presence, though they were dressed in suchstyle that yesterday he would have thought it an honor to kiss thehands of any one of them; but he was bored in the field even, so hewent back to the house, and examined the supplies in his storehousesand cellars, also the furniture in the chambers.

  "'They are beautiful,' said he to himself; 'but it would be better ifthe furniture were made of gold, and the pitchers of jewels.'

  "His eyes turned mechanically toward the corner where the figure wasconcealed under an embroidered veil--and it sighed.

  "'Sigh!' said he, taking a censer to burn incense before the statue ofAmon.

  "'He is a kind god,' thought he, 'who values the qualities of sages,even when barefoot, and deals out to them justice. What a beautifulestate 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 Ireckoned how many hen eggs he would get for seven partridges. Myteachers were right when they said that wisdom opens the lips of godseven.'

  "He turned again toward the corner. The veiled figure sighed again.
r />   "'I am curious to know,' thought the scribe, 'why my friend Amonforbade me to touch that thing over there in the corner. Well, forsuch a property he had a right to impose conditions; though I shouldnot 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 thisthing-- I may not touch it, but I may look at it.'

  "He approached the figure, drew the veil aside carefully, looked; itwas indeed beautiful. It resembled a boy, but was not a boy. It hadhair reaching to its knees, delicate features, and a look full ofsweetness.

  "'Who art thou?' asked the scribe of the figure.

  "'I am a woman,' answered the figure, with a voice that penetrated hisheart like a Phoenician dagger.

  "'Woman?' thought the scribe. 'They did not tell me about woman in thepriests' school. Woman?' repeated he. 'But what hast thou here?'

  "'Those are my eyes.'

  "'Eyes? What canst thou see with eyes which would melt before anylight?'

  "'Those are not eyes made for me to look from, but thou must look intothem.'

  "'Wonderful eyes!' thought the scribe to himself; and he walkedthrough 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 suchlittle lips thou couldst take in no food whatever.'

  "'They are not for eating,' answered the figure, 'but thou art to kissthem.'

  "'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 thoucouldst 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 (asI do thine, Kama," said the prince, fondling the small hands of thepriestess). "'But what are those arms for?' inquired the scribe of thefigure.

  "'To put around thy neck.'

  "'Thou wishest to say shoulder,' cried the frightened scribe, whom thepriest always seized by the shoulder when he was to get stripes.

  "'Not by the shoulder,' said the figure, 'but this way;' and she puther arms around his neck thus," said the prince (here he put his armsaround the priestess), "and she nestled up to his breast thus" (herehe nestled up to Kama).

  "Lord, what art thou doing?" whispered Kama. "But this is my death."

  "Have no fear," replied the prince; "I was only showing thee what thestatue did to that scribe in his palace. The moment she embraced himthe earth trembled, the palace disappeared, dogs, horses, slavesvanished. The hill covered with grape-vines turned into a cliff, theolive-trees into thorns, the wheat into sand. The scribe, when herecovered in the embrace of his love, understood that he was as pooras he had been on the highroad a day earlier. But he did not regrethis 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," saidthe viceroy.

  "Then Amon is compassionate only to scribes," answered Kama. "But whatdoes that story signify?"

  "Guess. But thou hast just heard what the poor scribe yielded up forthe 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 Rameses,with passion.

  "Oh, no!" cried Kama, tearing away from him; "let not the throne go soeasily, for what would become then of thy promise to Phoenicia?"

  They looked into each other's eyes for a long time. The prince felt awound in his heart, and felt as if through that wound some feeling hadgone from him. It was not passion, for passion remained; but it wasesteem for Kama, and faith in her.

  "Wonderful are these Phoenicians," thought the heir; "one may go wildfor them, but 'tis not possible to trust them."

  He felt wearied, and took farewell of the priestess. He looked aroundthe chamber as though it were difficult to leave the place; and whilegoing, 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 Rameses left Kama's villa, when into the chamber of thepriestess rushed a young Greek who was strikingly beautiful, andstrikingly similar to Rameses. 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 hasnot passed since thy oath, declaring thy love, and that thou wouldstflee to Greece with me, and now thou art falling on the neck ofanother. Are the gods dead? Has justice deserted them?"

  "Thou art mad with thy jealousy," interrupted the priestess; "thouwilt kill me."

  "It is sure that I, and not thy stone goddess, will kill thee. Withthese 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 thisprinceling, whose head I will split with a stone should he prowl aboutthis place any longer. The prince! he has all the women of Egypt, andstill 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 aforeigner for you Asiatics, since that gift of voice with which thegods have endowed me is turned to the use of your divinities. But howoften, by means of my figure, have ye deceived dull Asiatics bytelling them that the heir to the throne of Egypt belongs to yourfaith in secret?"

  "Silence! silence!" hissed the priestess, closing his mouth with herhand.

  There must have been something enchanting in her touch, for the Greekgrew 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; weshall flee thence to northern Greece, to a place which has never yetseen a Phoenician--"

  "It will see them if I hide there," interrupted the priestess.

  "Should a hair fall from thy head," whispered the raging Greek, "Iswear 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 Icollect 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 alittle? He reminds me of thee--"

  The Greek was perfectly quieted.

  "Well, well," muttered he, "I understand that when a woman has thechoice between the heir to the throne and a man with my voice I haveno need to tremble. But I am jealous and violent, so I beg thee to lethim approach thee as little as possible."

  He kissed her, slipped out of the villa, and vanished in the darkgarden.

  Kama stretched her clinched fist after him.

  "Worthless buffoon!" whispered she; "thou who art hardly fit to be asinging slave in my mansion."