CHAPTER IX.

  It was noon: the rays of the sun found no way into the narrow shadystreets of the city of Thebes, but they blazed with scorching heat onthe broad dyke-road which led to the king's castle, and which at thishour was usually almost deserted.

  To-day it was thronged with foot-passengers and chariots, with ridersand litter-bearers.

  Here and there negroes poured water on the road out of skins, but thedust was so deep, that, in spite of this, it shrouded the streets andthe passengers in a dry cloud, which extended not only over the city,but down to the harbor where the boats of the inhabitants of theNecropolis landed their freight.

  The city of the Pharaohs was in unwonted agitation, for the storm-swiftbreath of rumor had spread some news which excited both alarm and hopein the huts of the poor as well as in the palaces of the great.

  In the early morning three mounted messengers had arrived from theking's camp with heavy letter-bags, and had dismounted at the Regent'spalace.

  [The Egyptians were great letter-writers, and many of their letters have come down to us, they also had established postmen, and had a word for them in their language "fai chat."]

  As after a long drought the inhabitants of a village gaze up at theblack thunder-cloud that gathers above their heads promising therefreshing rain--but that may also send the kindling lightning-flash orthe destroying hail-storm--so the hopes and the fears of the citizenswere centred on the news which came but rarely and at irregularintervals from the scene of war; for there was scarcely a house inthe huge city which had not sent a father, a son, or a relative to thefighting hosts of the king in the distant northeast.

  And though the couriers from the camp were much oftener the heralds oftears than of joy; though the written rolls which they brought told moreoften of death and wounds than of promotion, royal favors, and conqueredspoil, yet they were expected with soul-felt longing and received withshouts of joy.

  Great and small hurried after their arrival to the Regent's palace, andthe scribes--who distributed the letters and read the news which wasintended for public communication, and the lists of those who had fallenor perished--were closely besieged with enquirers.

  Man has nothing harder to endure than uncertainty, and generally, whenin suspense, looks forward to bad rather than to good news. And thebearers of ill ride faster than the messengers of weal.

  The Regent Ani resided in a building adjoining the king's palace. Hisbusiness-quarters surrounded an immensely wide court, and consisted ofa great number of rooms opening on to this court, in which numerousscribes worked with their chief. On the farther side was a large,veranda-like hall open at the front, with a roof supported by pillars.

  Here Ani was accustomed to hold courts of justice, and to receiveofficers, messengers, and petitioners. To-day he sat, visible to allcomers, on a costly throne in this hall, surrounded by his numerousfollowers, and overlooking the crowd of people whom the guardians of thepeace guided with long staves, admitting them in troops into the courtof the "High Gate," and then again conducting them out.

  What he saw and heard was nothing joyful, for from each groupsurrounding a scribe arose a cry of woe. Few and far between were thosewho had to tell of the rich booty that had fallen to their friends.

  An invisible web woven of wailing and tears seemed to envelope theassembly.

  Here men were lamenting and casting dust upon their heads, there womenwere rending their clothes, shrieking loudly, and crying as they wavedtheir veils "oh, my husband! oh, my father! oh, my brother!"

  Parents who had received the news of the death of their son fell on eachother's neck weeping; old men plucked out their grey hair and beard;young women beat their forehead and breast, or implored the scribeswho read out the lists to let them see for themselves the name of thebeloved one who was for ever torn from them.

  The passionate stirring of a soul, whether it be the result of joy or ofsorrow, among us moderns covers its features with a veil, which it hadno need of among the ancients.

  Where the loudest laments sounded, a restless little being might be seenhurrying from group to group; it was Nemu, Katuti's dwarf, whom we know.

  Now he stood near a woman of the better class, dissolved in tearsbecause her husband had fallen in the last battle.

  "Can you read?" he asked her; "up there on the architrave is the nameof Rameses, with all his titles. Dispenser of life,' he is called. Ayeindeed; he can create--widows; for he has all the husbands killed."

  Before the astonished woman could reply, he stood by a man sunk in woe,and pulling his robe, said "Finer fellows than your son have never beenseen in Thebes. Let your youngest starve, or beat him to a cripple,else he also will be dragged off to Syria; for Rameses needs much goodEgyptian meat for the Syrian vultures."

  The old man, who had hitherto stood there in silent despair, clenchedhis fist. The dwarf pointed to the Regent, and said: "If he therewielded the sceptre, there would be fewer orphans and beggars by theNile. To-day its sacred waters are still sweet, but soon it will tasteas salt as the north sea with all the tears that have been shed on itsbanks."

  It almost seemed as if the Regent had heard these words, for he rosefrom his seat and lifted his hands like a man who is lamenting.

  Many of the bystanders observed this action; and loud cries of anguishfilled the wide courtyard, which was soon cleared by soldiers to makeroom for other troops of people who were thronging in.

  While these gathered round the scribes, the Regent Ani sat with quietdignity on the throne, surrounded by his suite and his secretaries, andheld audiences.

  He was a man at the close of his fortieth year and the favorite cousinof the king.

  Rameses I., the grandfather of the reigning monarch, had deposed thelegitimate royal family, and usurped the sceptre of the Pharaohs. Hedescended from a Semitic race who had remained in Egypt at the time ofthe expulsion of the Hyksos,

  [These were an eastern race who migrated from Asia into Egypt, conquered the lower Nile-valley, and ruled over it for nearly 500 years, till they were driven out by the successors of the old legitimate Pharaohs, whose dominion had been confined to upper Egypt.]

  and had distinguished itself by warlike talents under Thotmes andAmenophis. After his death he was succeeded by his son Seti, whosought to earn a legitimate claim to the throne by marrying Tuaa, thegrand-daughter of Amenophis III. She presented him with an only son,whom he named after his father Rameses. This prince might lay claim toperfect legitimacy through his mother, who descended directly from theold house of sovereigns; for in Egypt a noble family--even that of thePharaohs--might be perpetuated through women.

  Seti proclaimed Rameses partner of his throne, so as to remove all doubtas to the validity of his position. The young nephew of his wife Tuaa,the Regent Ani, who was a few years younger than Rameses, he caused tobe brought up in the House of Seti, and treated him like his own son,while the other members of the dethroned royal family were robbed oftheir possessions or removed altogether.

  Ani proved himself a faithful servant to Seti, and to his son, and wastrusted as a brother by the warlike and magnanimous Rameses, who howevernever disguised from himself the fact that the blood in his own veinswas less purely royal than that which flowed in his cousin's.

  It was required of the race of the Pharaohs of Egypt that it should bedescended from the Sun-god Ra, and the Pharaoh could boast of this highdescent only through his mother--Ani through both parents.

  But Rameses sat on the throne, held the sceptre with a strong hand, andthirteen young sons promised to his house the lordship over Egypt to alleternity.

  When, after the death of his warlike father, he went to fresh conquestsin the north, he appointed Ani, who had proved himself worthy asgovernor of the province of Kush, to the regency of the kingdom.

  A vehement character often over estimates the man who is endowed witha quieter temperament, into whose nature he cannot throw himself, andwhose excellences he is unable to imitate; so it happened tha
t thedeliberate and passionless nature of his cousin impressed the fiery andwarlike Rameses.

  Ani appeared to be devoid of ambition, or the spirit of enterprise; heaccepted the dignity that was laid upon him with apparent reluctance,and seemed a particularly safe person, because he had lost both wife andchild, and could boast of no heir.

  He was a man of more than middle height; his features were remarkablyregular--even beautifully, cut, but smooth and with little expression.His clear blue eyes and thin lips gave no evidence of the emotions thatfilled his heart; on the contrary, his countenance wore a soft smilethat could adapt itself to haughtiness, to humility, and to a variety ofshades of feeling, but which could never be entirely banished from hisface.

  He had listened with affable condescension to the complaint of a landedproprietor, whose cattle had been driven off for the king's army, andhad promised that his case should be enquired into. The plundered manwas leaving full of hope; but when the scribe who sat at the feet of theRegent enquired to whom the investigation of this encroachment of thetroops should be entrusted, Ani said: "Each one must bring a victim tothe war; it must remain among the things that are done, and cannot beundone."

  The Nomarch--[Chief of a Nome or district.]--of Suan, in the southernpart of the country, asked for funds for a necessary, new embankment.The Regent listened to his eager representation with benevolence, naywith expressions of sympathy; but assured him that the war absorbedall the funds of the state, that the chests were empty; still he feltinclined--even if they had not failed--to sacrifice a part of his ownincome to preserve the endangered arable land of his faithful provinceof Suan, to which he desired greeting.

  As soon as the Nomarch had left him, he commanded that a considerablesum should be taken out of the Treasury, and sent after the petitioner.

  From time to time in the middle of conversation, he arose, and made agesture of lamentation, to show to the assembled mourners in the courtthat he sympathized in the losses which had fallen on them.

  The sun had already passed the meridian, when a disturbance, accompaniedby loud cries, took possession of the masses of people, who stood roundthe scribes in the palace court.

  Many men and women were streaming together towards one spot, and eventhe most impassive of the Thebans present turned their attention to anincident so unusual in this place.

  A detachment of constabulary made a way through the crushing and yellingmob, and another division of Lybian police led a prisoner towards a sidegate of the court. Before they could reach it, a messenger came up withthem, from the Regent, who desired to be informed as to what happened.

  The head of the officers of public safety followed him, and with eagerexcitement informed Ani, who was waiting for him, that a tiny man, thedwarf of the Lady Katuti, had for several hours been going about inthe court, and endeavoring to poison the minds of the citizens withseditious speeches.

  Ani ordered that the misguided man should be thrown into the dungeon;but so soon as the chief officer had left him, he commanded hissecretary to have the dwarf brought into his presence before sundown.

  While he was giving this order an excitement of another kind seized theassembled multitude.

  As the sea parted and stood on the right hand and on the left of theHebrews, so that no wave wetted the foot of the pursued fugitives,so the crowd of people of their own free will, but as if in reverentsubmission to some high command, parted and formed a broad way, throughwhich walked the high-priest of the House of Seti, as, full robed andaccompanied by some of the "holy fathers," he now entered the court.

  The Regent went to meet him, bowed before him, and then withdrew to theback of the hall with him alone. "It is nevertheless incredible," saidAmeni, "that our serfs are to follow the militia!"

  "Rameses requires soldiers--to conquer," replied the Regent.

  "And we bread--to live," exclaimed the priest.

  "Nevertheless I am commanded, at once, before the seed-time, to levythe temple-serfs. I regret the order, but the king is the will, and I amonly the hand."

  "The hand, which he makes use of to sequester ancient rights, and toopen a way to the desert over the fruitful land."

  ["With good management," said the first Napoleon, "the Nile encroaches upon the desert, with bad management the desert encroaches upon the Nile."]

  "Your acres will not long remain unprovided for. Rameses will win newvictories with the increased army, and the help of the Gods."

  "The Gods! whom he insults!"

  "After the conclusion of peace he will reconcile the Gods by doubly richgifts. He hopes confidently for an early end to the war, and writes tome that after the next battle he wins he intends to offer terms to theCheta. A plan of the king's is also spoken of--to marry again, and,indeed, the daughter of the Cheta King Chetasar."

  Up to this moment the Regent had kept his eyes cast down. Now he raisedthem, smiling, as if he would fain enjoy Ameni's satisfaction, andasked:

  "What dost thou say to this project?"

  "I say," returned Ameni, and his voice, usually so stern, took a toneof amusement, "I say that Rameses seems to think that the blood of thycousin and of his mother, which gives him his right to the throne, isincapable of pollution."

  "It is the blood of the Sun-god!"

  "Which runs but half pure in his veins, but wholly pure in thine."

  The Regent made a deprecatory gesture, and said softly, with a smilewhich resembled that of a dead man:

  "We are not alone."

  "No one is here," said Ameni, "who can hear us; and what I say is knownto every child."

  "But if it came to the king's ears--" whispered Ani, "he--"

  "He would perceive how unwise it is to derogate from the ancient rightsof those on whom it is incumbent to prove the purity of blood of thesovereign of this land. However, Rameses sits on the throne; may lifebloom for him, with health and strength!"--[A formula which even inprivate letters constantly follows the name of the Pharaoh.]

  The Regent bowed, and then asked:

  "Do you propose to obey the demand of the Pharaoh without delay?"

  "He is the king. Our council, which will meet in a few days, can onlydetermine how, and not whether we shall fulfil his command."

  "You will retard the departure of the serfs, and Rameses requires themat once. The bloody labor of the war demands new tools."

  "And the peace will perhaps demand a new master, who understands how toemploy the sons of the land to its greatest advantage--a genuine son ofRa."

  The Regent stood opposite the high-priest, motionless as an image castin bronze, and remained silent; but Ameni lowered his staff before himas before a god, and then went into the fore part of the hall.

  When Ani followed him, a soft smile played as usual upon hiscountenance, and full of dignity he took his seat on the throne.

  "Art thou at an end of thy communications?" he asked the high-priest.

  "It remains for me to inform you all," replied Ameni with a loudervoice, to be heard by all the assembled dignitaries, "that the princessBent-Anat yesterday morning committed a heavy sin, and that in all thetemples in the land the Gods shall be entreated with offerings to takeher uncleanness from her."

  Again a shadow passed over the smile on the Regent's countenance. Helooked meditatively on the ground, and then said:

  "To-morrow I will visit the House of Seti; till then I beg that thisaffair may be left to rest."

  Ameni bowed, and the Regent left the hall to withdraw to a wing of theking's palace, in which he dwelt.

  On his writing-table lay sealed papers. He knew that they containedimportant news for him; but he loved to do violence to his curiosity, totest his resolution, and like an epicure to reserve the best dish tillthe last.

  He now glanced first at some unimportant letters. A dumb negro, whosquatted at his feet, burned the papyrus rolls which his master gave himin a brazier. A secretary made notes of the short facts which Ani calledout to him, and the ground work was laid of the answers to the differen
tletters.

  At a sign from his master this functionary quitted the room, and Anithen slowly opened a letter from the king, whose address: "To my brotherAni," showed that it contained, not public, but private information.

  On these lines, as he well knew, hung his future life, and the road itshould follow.

  With a smile, that was meant to conceal even from himself his deepinward agitation, he broke the wax which sealed the short manuscript inthe royal hand.

  "What relates to Egypt, and my concern for my country, and the happyissue of the war," wrote the Pharaoh, "I have written to you by the handof my secretary; but these words are for the brother, who desires to bemy son, and I write to him myself. The lordly essence of the Divinitywhich dwells in me, readily brings a quick 'Yes' or 'No' to my lips, andit decides for the best. Now you demand my daughter Bent-Anat to wife,and I should not be Rameses if I did not freely confess that before Ihad read the last words of your letter, a vehement 'No' rushed tomy lips. I caused the stars to be consulted, and the entrails of thevictims to be examined, and they were adverse to your request; and yet Icould not refuse you, for you are dear to me, and your blood is royal asmy own. Even more royal, an old friend said, and warned me against yourambition and your exaltation. Then my heart changed, for I werenot Seti's son if I allow myself to injure a friend through idleapprehensions; and he who stands so high that men fear that he may tryto rise above Rameses, seems to me to be worthy of Bent-Anat. Woo her,and, should she consent freely, the marriage may be celebrated on theday when I return home. You are young enough to make a wife happy, andyour mature wisdom will guard my child from misfortune. Bent-Anat shallknow that her father, and king, encourages your suit; but pray too tothe Hathors, that they may influence Bent-Anat's heart in your favor,for to her decision we must both submit."

  The Regent had changed color several times while reading this letter.Now he laid it on the table with a shrug of his shoulders, stood up,clasped his hand behind him, and, with his eyes cast meditatively on thefloor, leaned against one of the pillars which supported the beams ofthe roof.

  The longer he thought, the less amiable his expression became. "A pillsweetened with honey,

  [Two recipes for pills are found in the papyri, one with honey for women, and one without for men.]

  such as they give to women," he muttered to himself. Then he went backto the table, read the king's letter through once more, and said: "Onemay learn from it how to deny by granting, and at the same time not toforget to give it a brilliant show of magnanimity. Rameses knows hisdaughter. She is a girl like any other, and will take good care notto choose a man twice as old as herself, and who might be her father.Rameses will 'submit'--I am to I submit!' And to what? to the judgmentand the choice of a wilful child!"

  With these words he threw the letter so vehemently on to the table, thatit slipped off on to the floor.

  The mute slave picked it up, and laid it carefully on the table again,while his master threw a ball into a silver bason.

  Several attendants rushed into the room, and Ani ordered them tobring to him the captive dwarf of the Lady Katuti. His soul rose inindignation against the king, who in his remote camp-tent could fancy hehad made him happy by a proof of his highest favor. When we are plottingagainst a man we are inclined to regard him as an enemy, and if heoffers us a rose we believe it to be for the sake, not of the perfume,but of the thorns.

  The dwarf Nemu was brought before the Regent and threw himself on theground at his feet.

  Ani ordered the attendants to leave him, and said to the little man

  "You compelled me to put you in prison. Stand up!" The dwarf rose andsaid, "Be thanked--for my arrest too."

  The Regent looked at him in astonishment; but Nemu went on half humbly,half in fun, "I feared for my life, but thou hast not only not shortenedit, but hast prolonged it; for in the solitude of the dungeon timeseemed long, and the minutes grown to hours."

  "Keep your wit for the ladies," replied the Regent. "Did I not know thatyou meant well, and acted in accordance with the Lady Katuti's fancy, Iwould send you to the quarries."

  "My hands," mumbled the dwarf, "could only break stones for a game ofdraughts; but my tongue is like the water, which makes one peasant rich,and carries away the fields of another."

  "We shall know how to dam it up."

  "For my lady and for thee it will always flow the right way," said thedwarf. "I showed the complaining citizens who it is that slaughterstheir flesh and blood, and from whom to look for peace and content. Ipoured caustic into their wounds, and praised the physician."

  "But unasked and recklessly," interrupted Ani; "otherwise you have shownyourself capable, and I am willing to spare you for a future time. Butoverbusy friends are more damaging than intelligent enemies. When I needyour services I will call for you. Till then avoid speech. Now go toyour mistress, and carry to Katuti this letter which has arrived forher."

  "Hail to Ani, the son of the Sun!" cried the dwarf kissing the Regent'sfoot. "Have I no letter to carry to my mistress Nefert?"

  "Greet her from me," replied the Regent. "Tell Katuti I will visit herafter the next meal. The king's charioteer has not written, yet I hearthat he is well. Go now, and be silent and discreet."

  The dwarf quitted the room, and Ani went into an airy hall, in whichhis luxurious meal was laid out, consisting of many dishes prepared withspecial care. His appetite was gone, but he tasted of every dish, andgave the steward, who attended on him, his opinion of each.

  Meanwhile he thought of the king's letter, of Bent-Anat, and whether itwould be advisable to expose himself to a rejection on her part.

  After the meal he gave himself up to his body-servant, who carefullyshaved, painted, dressed, and decorated him, and then held the mirrorbefore him.

  He considered the reflection with anxious observation, and when heseated himself in his litter to be borne to the house of his friendKatuti, he said to himself that he still might claim to be called ahandsome man.

  If he paid his court to Bent-Anat--if she listened to his suit--whatthen?

  He would refer it to Katuti, who always knew how to say a decisive wordwhen he, entangled in a hundred pros and cons, feared to venture on afinal step.

  By her advice he had sought to wed the princess, as a fresh mark ofhonor--as an addition to his revenues--as a pledge for his personalsafety. His heart had never been more or less attached to her than toany other beautiful woman in Egypt. Now her proud and noble personalitystood before his inward eye, and he felt as if he must look up to itas to a vision high out of his reach. It vexed him that he had followedKatuti's advice, and he began to wish his suit had been repulsed.Marriage with Bent-Anat seemed to him beset with difficulties. His moodwas that of a man who craves some brilliant position, though he knowsthat its requirements are beyond his powers--that of an ambitious soulto whom kingly honors are offered on condition that he will never removea heavy crown from his head. If indeed another plan should succeed,if--and his eyes flashed eagerly--if fate set him on the seat ofRameses, then the alliance with Bent-Anat would lose its terrors; therewould he be her absolute King and Lord and Master, and no one couldrequire him to account for what he might be to her, or vouchsafe to her.