The Great Sphinx
“Ask rather why they pray at all, since no one hears them.”
Pentuer took the direction at once and went toward the place of the singing. The prince found some stone for a support and sat down wearied. He put his hands behind him, leaned back, and looked into the immense face before him.
In spite of the lack of light, the superhuman features were clearly visible; just the shade added life and character. The more the prince gazed into that face, the more powerfully he felt that he had been prejudiced, that his dislike was unreasonable.
On the face of the Sphinx, there was no cruelty, but rather resignation. In its smile there was no jeering, but rather sadness. It did not feel the wretchedness and fleeting nature of mankind, for it did not see them. Its eyes, filled with expression, were fixed somewhere beyond the Nile, beyond the horizon, toward regions concealed from human sight beneath the vault of heaven. Was it watching the disturbing growth of the Assyrian monarchy? Or the impudent activity of Phœnicia? Or the birth of Greece, or events, perhaps, which were preparing on the Jordan? Who could answer?
The prince was sure of one thing, that it was gazing, thinking, waiting for something with a calm smile worthy of supernatural existence. And, moreover, it seemed to him that if thatsomethingappeared on the horizon, the Sphinx would rise up and go to meet it.
Whatwas that to be, and when would it come? This was a mystery the significance of which was depicted expressly on the face of that creature which had existed for ages. But it would of necessity take place on a sudden, since the Sphinx had not closed its eyes for one instant during millenniums, and was gazing, gazing, always.
Meanwhile Pentuer found a window through which came from the underground temple pensive hymns of the priestly chorus:
Chorus I.“Rise, as radiant as Isis, rise as Sothis rises on the firmament in the morning at the beginning of the established year.”
Chorus II.“The god Amon-Ra was on my right and on my left. He himself gave into my hands dominion over all the world, thus causing the downfall of my enemies.”
Chorus I.“Thou wert still young, thou wert wearing braided hair, but in Egypt naught was done save at thy command—no corner-stone was laid for an edifice unless thou wert present.”
Chorus II.“I came to Thee, ruler of the gods, great god, lord of the sun. Tum promises that the sun will appear, and that I shall be like him, and the Nile; that I shall reach the throne of Osiris, and shall possess it forever.”
Chorus I.“Thou hast returned in peace, respected by the gods, O ruler of both worlds, Ra-Mer-Amen-Rameses. I assure to thee unbroken rule; kings will come to thee to pay tribute.”
Chorus II.“O thou, thou Osiris-Rameses! ever-living son of heaven, born of the goddess Nut, may thy mother surround thee with the mystery of heaven, and permit that thou become a god, O thou, O Osiris-Rameses.”[23]
[23]Tomb inscriptions.
[23]Tomb inscriptions.
“So then the holy father is dead,” said Pentuer to himself.
He left the window and approached the place where the heir was sitting, sunk in imaginings.
The priest knelt before him, fell on his face, and exclaimed:
“Be greeted, O pharaoh, ruler of the world!”
“What dost thou say?” cried the prince, springing up.
“May the One, the All-Powerful, pour down on thee wisdom and strength, and happiness on thy people.”
“Rise, Pentuer! Then I—then I—”
Suddenly he took the arm of the priest and turned toward the Sphinx.
“Look at it,” said he.
But neither in the face nor in the posture of the colossus was there any change. One pharaoh had stepped over the threshold of eternity; another rose up like the sun, but the stone face of the god or the monster was the same precisely. On its lips was a gentle smile for earthly power and glory; in its glance there was a waiting forsomethingwhich was to come, butwhenno one knew.
Soon the messengers returned from the ferry with information that boats would be waiting there.
Pentuer went among the palms, and cried,—
“Wake! wake!”
The watchful Asiatics sprang up at once, and began to bridle their horses. Tutmosis also rose, and yawned with a grimace.
“Brr!” grumbled he, “what cold! Sleep is a good thing! I barely dozed a little, and now I am able to go even to the end of the world, even again to the Soda Lakes. Brr! I have forgotten the taste of wine, and it seems to me that my hands are becoming covered with hair, like the paws of a jackal. And it is two hours to the palace yet.
“Happy are common men! One ragged rogue sleeps after another and feels no need of washing: he will not go to work till his wife brings a barley cake; while I, a great lord, must wander about, like a thief in the night, through the desert, without a drop of water to put to my lips.”
The horses were ready, and Rameses mounted his own. Pentuer approached, took the bridle of the ruler’s steed, and led, going himself on foot.
“What is this?” inquired the astonished Tutmosis.
He bethought himself quickly, ran up, and took Rameses’ horse by the bridle on the other side. And so all advanced in silence, astonished at the bearing of the priest, though they felt that something important had happened.
After a few hundred steps the desert ceased, and a highroad through the field lay before the travellers.
“Mount your horses,” said Rameses; “we must hurry.”
“His holiness commands you to sit on your horses,” cried Pentuer.
All were amazed. But Tutmosis recovered quickly, and placed his hand on his sword-hilt.
“May he live through eternity, our all-powerful and gracious leader Rameses!” shouted the adjutant.
“May he live through eternity!” howled the Asiatics, shaking their weapons.
“I thank you, my faithful warriors,” answered their lord.
A moment later the mounted party was hastening toward the river.
WE know not whether the prophets in the underground temple of the Sphinx saw the new ruler of Egypt when he halted at the foot of the pyramids, and gave information touching him at the palace, and if so how they did it. The fact is that when Rameses was approaching the ferry, the most worthy Herhor gave orders to rouse the palace servants, and when their lord was crossing the Nile all priests, generals, and civil dignitaries were assembled in the great hall of audience.
Exactly at sunrise Rameses XIII., at the head of a small escort, rode into the palace yard, where the servants fell on their faces before him, and the guard presented arms to the sound of drums and trumpets.
His holiness saluted the army and went to the bathing chambers, where he took a bath filled with perfumes. Then he gave permission to arrange his divine hair; but when the barber asked most submissively if the pharaoh commanded to shave his head and beard, the lord replied,—
“There is no need. I am not a priest, but a warrior.”
These words reached the audience-hall a moment later; in an hour they had gone around the palace; about midday they had passed through every part of the city of Memphis, and toward evening they were known in all the temples of the state, from Tami-n-hor and Sabne-Chetam on the north to Sunnu and Pilak on the south.
At this intelligence the nomarchs, the nobility, the army, the people, and the foreigners were wild with delight, but the sacred order of priests mourned the more zealously the dead pharaoh.
When his holiness emerged from the bath he put on a warrior’s short shirt with black and yellow stripes, and a yellow breast-piece; on his feet sandals fastened with thongs, and on his head a low helmet with a circlet. Then he girded on that Assyrian sword which he had worn at the battle of the Soda Lakes, and, surrounded by a great suite of generals, he entered with a clatter and clinking the audience-hall.
There the high priest Herhor stood before him, having at hisside Sem, the holy high priest, Mefres, and others, and behind him the chief judges of Thebes and Memphis, some of the nearer nomarchs, the chief treasurer, also the overseers of the house of wheat, the house of cattle, the house of garments, the house of slaves, the house of silver and gold, and a multitude of other dignitaries.
Herhor bowed before Rameses, and said with emotion,—
“Lord! it has pleased thy eternally living father to withdraw to the gods where he is enjoying endless delight. To thee, then, has fallen the duty of caring for the fate of the orphan kingdom.
“Be greeted, therefore, O lord and ruler of the world, and, holiness, may thou live through eternity Cham-Sem-Merer-Amen-Rameses-Neter-haq-an.”
Those present repeated this salutation with enthusiasm. They expected the new ruler to show some emotion or feeling. To the astonishment of all he merely moved his brow and answered,—
“In accordance with the will of his holiness, my father, and with the laws of Egypt, I take possession of government and will conduct it to the glory of the state and the happiness of the people.”
He turned suddenly to Herhor and, looking him sharply in the eyes, inquired,—
“On thy mitre, worthiness, I see the golden serpent. Why hast thou put that symbol of regal power on thy head?”
A deathlike silence settled on the assembly. The haughtiest man in Egypt had never dreamed that the young lord would begin rule by putting a question like that to the most powerful person in the state, more powerful, perhaps, than the late pharaoh.
But behind the young lord stood a number of generals; in the courtyard glittered the bronze-covered regiments of the guard; and crossing the Nile at that moment was an army wild from the triumph at the Soda Lakes, and enamored of its leader.
The powerful Herhor grew pale as wax, and the voice could not issue from his straitened throat.
“I ask your worthiness,” repeated the pharaoh, calmly, “by what right is the regal serpent on thy mitre?”
“This is the mitre of thy grandfather, the holy Amenhôtep,” answered Herhor, in a low voice. “The supreme council commanded me to wear it on occasions.”
“My holy grandfather,” replied the pharaoh, “was father of the queen, and in the way of favor he received the right to adorn his mitre with the ureus. But, so far as is known to me, his sacred vestment is counted among the relics of the temple of Amon.”
Herhor had recovered.
“Deign to remember, holiness,” explained he, “that for twenty-four hours Egypt has been deprived of its legal ruler. Meanwhile some one had to wake and put to sleep the god Osiris, to impart blessings to the people and render homage to the ancestors of the pharaoh.
“In such a grievous time the supreme council commanded me to wear this holy relic, so that the order of the state and the service of the gods might not be neglected. But the moment that we have a lawful and mighty ruler I set aside the wondrous relic.”
Then Herhor took from his head the mitre adorned with the ureus, and gave it to the high priest Mefres.
The threatening face of the pharaoh grew calm, and he turned his steps toward the throne.
Suddenly the holy Mefres barred the way, and said while bending to the pavement,—
“Deign, holy lord, to hear my most submissive prayer.”
But neither in his voice nor his eyes was there submission when, straightening himself, he continued,—
“I have words from the supreme council of high priests.”
“Utter them,” said the pharaoh.
“It is known to thee, holiness, that a pharaoh who has not received ordination as high priest cannot perform the highest sacrifices; that is, dress and undress the miraculous Osiris—”
“I understand,” interrupted Rameses, “I am a pharaoh who has not received the ordination of high priest.”
“For that reason,” continued Mefres, “the supreme council begs thee submissively, holiness, to appoint a high priest to take thy place in religious functions.”
When they heard these decided words, the high priests andcivil dignitaries trembled and squirmed as if standing on hot stones, and the generals touched their swords as if involuntarily. The holy Mefres looked at them with unconcealed contempt, and fixed his cold glance again on the face of the pharaoh.
But the lord of the world showed no trouble even this time.
“It is well,” said he, “that thou hast reminded me, worthiness, of this important duty. The military profession and affairs of state do not permit me to occupy myself with the ceremonies of our holy religion, so I must appoint a substitute.”
While speaking he looked around at the men assembled.
On the left of Herhor stood the holy Sem. Rameses glanced into his mild and honest face and inquired suddenly,—
“Who and what art thou, worthiness?”
“My name is Sem; I am high priest of the temple of Ptah in Pi-Bast.”
“Thou wilt be my substitute in religious ceremonies,” said the pharaoh, pointing toward him with his finger.
A murmur of astonishment ran through the assembly.
After long meditation and counsels it would have been difficult to select a more worthy priest for that high office.
Herhor grew much paler than before; Mefres pressed his blue lips together tightly and dropped his eyelids.
A moment later the new pharaoh sat on his throne, which instead of feet had the carved figures of princes and the kings of nine nations.
Soon Herhor gave to the lord, on a golden plate, a white and also a red crown.
The sovereign placed the crowns on his own head in silence, while those present fell prostrate.
That was not the solemn coronation; it was merely taking possession of power.
When the priests had incensed the pharaoh and had sung a hymn to Osiris, imploring that god to pour all blessings on the sovereign, dignitaries of the civil power and of the army were permitted to kiss the lowest step of the throne. Then Rameses took a gold spoon, and, repeating a prayer which the holy Sem pronounced aloud, he incensed the statues of the gods arranged in line on both sides of the pharaoh’s chapel.
“What am I to do now?” inquired he.
“Show thyself to the people,” replied Herhor.
Through a gilded, widely opened door his holiness ascended marble steps to a terrace, and, raising his hands, faced in turn toward the four sides of the universe. The sound of trumpets was heard, and from the summits of pylons banners were hung out. Whoso was in a field, in a yard, on the street, fell prostrate; the stick, raised above the back of a beast or a slave, was lowered without giving the blow, and all criminals against the state who had been sentenced that day received grace.
Descending from the terrace the pharaoh inquired,—
“Have I something more to do?”
“Refreshments and affairs of state are awaiting thee, holiness,” replied Herhor.
“After that I may rest,” said the pharaoh. “Where are the remains of his holiness, my father?”
“Given to the embalmers,” whispered Herhor.
Tears filled the pharaoh’s eyes, and his mouth quivered, but he restrained himself and looked down in silence. It was not proper that servants should see emotion in such a mighty ruler.
Wishing to turn the pharaoh’s attention to another subject, Herhor asked,—
“Wilt thou be pleased, holiness, to receive the homage due from the queen, thy mother?”
“I? Am I to receive homage from my mother?” asked Rameses, with repressed voice.
“Hast thou forgotten what the sage Eney said? Perhaps holy Sem will repeat those beautiful words to us.”
“Remember,” quoted Sem, “that she gave birth to thee and nourished thee in every manner—”
“Speak further; speak!” insisted the pharaoh, striving always to command himself.
“Shouldst thou forget that she would raise her hands to the god, and he would hear her complaint. She bore thee long beneath her heart, like a great burden, and gave thee birth when thy months had expired. She carried thee in her arms afterward, and during three years she put her breast into thy mouth. She reared thee, was not disgusted with thy uncleanness. And when thou wert going to school and wertexercised in writing, she placed before thy teacher daily bread and beer from her own dwelling.”[24]
[24]Authentic.
[24]Authentic.
Rameses sighed deeply and said with calmness,—
“So ye see that it is not proper that my mother should salute me. Rather I will go to her.”
And he passed through a series of halls lined with marble, alabaster, and wood, painted in bright colors, carved and gilded; behind him went his immense suite. But when he came to the antechamber of his mother’s apartments, he made a sign to leave him. When he had passed the antechamber, he stopped a while before the door, then knocked and entered quietly.
In a chamber with bare walls, where in place of furniture there stood only a low wooden couch and a broken pitcher holding water, all in sign of mourning, Queen Nikotris, the mother of the pharaoh, was sitting on a stone. She was in a coarse shirt, barefoot; her face was smeared with mud from the Nile, and in her tangled hair there were ashes.
When she saw Rameses, the worthy lady inclined so as to fall at his feet. But the son seized her in his arms, and said with weeping,—
“If thou, O mother, incline to the ground beforeme, I shall be forced to go under the ground beforethee.”
The queen drew his head to her bosom, wiped away his tears with the sleeve of her coarse shirt, and then, raising her hands, whispered,—
“May all the gods, may the spirit of thy father and grandfather, surround thee with blessing and solicitude. O Isis, I have never spared offerings to thee, but to-day I make the greatest; I give my beloved son to thee. Let this kingly son become thy son entirely, and may his greatness and his glory increase thy divine inheritance.”
The pharaoh embraced and kissed his mother repeatedly, then he seated her on the wooden couch and sat on the stone himself.
“Has my father left commands to me?” inquired he.
“He begged thee only to remember him, but he said to the supreme council, ‘I leave you my heir, who is a lion and aneagle in one person; obey him, and he will elevate Egypt to incomparable power.’”
“Dost thou think that the priests will obey me?”
“Remember,” answered the queen, “that the device of the pharaoh is a serpent, and a serpent means prudence, which is silent, and no one knows when it will bite mortally. If thou take time as thy confederate, thou wilt accomplish everything.”
“Herhor is tremendously haughty. To-day he dared to put on the mitre of the holy Amenhôtep. Of course I commanded him to set it aside. I will remove him from the government,—him and certain members of the supreme council.”
The queen shook her head.
“Egypt is thine,” said she, “and the gods have endowed thee with great wisdom. Were it not for that, I should fear terribly a struggle with Herhor.”
“I do not dispute with him; I remove him.”
“Egypt is thine,” repeated the queen, “but I fear a struggle with the priests. It is true that thy father, who was mild beyond measure, has made those men insolent, but it is not wise to bring them to despair through severity. Besides, think of this: Who will replace them in counsel? They know everything that has been, that is, and that will be on earth and in heaven; they know the most secret thoughts of mankind, and they direct hearts as the wind directs tree leaves. Without them thou wilt be ignorant not only of what is happening in Tyre and Nineveh, but even in Thebes and Memphis.”
“I do not reject their wisdom, but I want service,” answered the pharaoh. “I know that their understanding is great, but it must be controlled so that it may not deceive, and it must be directed lest it ruin the State. Tell me thyself, mother, what they have done with Egypt in the course of thirty years? The people suffer want, or are in rebellion; the army is small, the treasury is empty, and meanwhile two months’ distance from us Assyria is increasing like dough containing leaven, and to-day is forcing on us treaties.”
“Do as may please thee, but remember that the device of a pharaoh is a serpent, and a serpent is silence and discretion.”
“Thou speakest truth, mother, but believe me, at certaintimes daring is better than prudence. The priests planned, as I know to-day, that the Libyan war should last entire years. I finished it in the course of a few days, and only because every day I took some mad but decisive step— If I had not rushed to the desert against them, which by the way was a great indiscretion, we should have the Libyans outside Memphis at this moment.”
“I know that thou didst hunt down Tehenna, and that Typhon caught thee,” said the queen. “O hasty child, thou didst not think of me.”
He smiled.
“Be of good heart,” replied Rameses. “When the pharaoh is in battle, at his left and his right hand stands Amon. Who then can touch him?”
He embraced the queen once more and departed.
THE immense suite of his holiness had remained in the hall of attendance, but as if split into two parts. On one side were Herhor, Mefres, and some high priests superior in years; on the other were all the generals, civil officials, and a majority of the younger priests.
The eagle glance of the pharaoh saw in one instant this division of dignitaries, and in the heart of the young sovereign joyous pride was kindled.
“And here I have gained a victory without drawing my sword,” thought Rameses.
The dignitaries drew away farther and more distinctly from Herhor and Mefres, for no one doubted that the two high priests, till then the most powerful persons in the state, had ceased to possess the favor of the new pharaoh.
Now the sovereign went to the hall of refection, where he was astonished first of all by the multitude of serving priests and the number of the dishes.
“Have I to eat all this?” inquired he, without hiding his amazement.
The priest who inspected the kitchen explained to thepharaoh that the dishes not used by his holiness went as offerings to the dynasty. And while speaking he indicated the statues placed in line along the hall.
Rameses gazed at the statues, which looked as if no one had made them an offering; next at the priests, who were as fresh of complexion as if they had eaten everything presented; then he asked for beer, also the bread used by warriors, and garlic.
The elder priest was astonished, but he repeated the order to the younger one. The younger hesitated, but repeated the command to the serving men and women. The servants at the first moment did not believe their own ears, but a quarter of an hour later they returned terrified, and whispered to the priests that there was no warriors’ bread nor garlic.
The pharaoh smiled and gave command that from that day forth there should not be a lack of simple food in his kitchen. Then he ate a pigeon, a morsel of wheaten cake, and drank some wine.
He confessed in spirit that the food was well prepared and the wine exquisite. He could not free himself from the thought, however, that the court kitchen must swallow immense sums of money.
Having burnt incense to his ancestors, the pharaoh betook himself to his cabinet to hear reports from ministers.
Herhor came first. He bent down before his lord much lower than he had when greeting him, and congratulated Rameses on his victory at the Soda Lakes with great enthusiasm.
“Thou didst rush,” said he, “holiness, on the Libyans like Typhon on the miserable tents of wanderers through the desert. Thou hast won a great battle with very small losses, and with one blow of thy divine sword hast finished a war, the end of which was unseen by us common men.”
The pharaoh felt his dislike toward the minister decreasing.
“For this cause,” continued the high priest, “the supreme council implores thee, holiness, to appoint ten talents’ reward to the valiant regiments. Do thou, as supreme chief, permit that to thy name be added ‘The Victorious.’”
Counting on the youth of the pharaoh, Herhor exaggerated in flattery. Rameses recovered from his delight and replied on a sudden,—
“What wouldst thou add to my name had I destroyed the Assyrian army and filled our temples with the riches of Nineveh and Babylon?”
“So he is always dreaming of that?” thought the high priest.
The pharaoh, as if to confirm Herhor’s fears, changed the subject.
“How many troops have we?” asked he.
“Here in Memphis?”
“No, in all Egypt.”
“Thou hadst ten regiments, holiness,” answered Herhor. “The worthy Nitager on the eastern boundary has fifteen. There are ten on the south, for Nubia begins to be disturbed; five are garrisoned throughout the country.”
“Forty altogether,” said Rameses, after some thought. “How many warriors in all?”
“About sixty thousand.”
Rameses sprang up from his chair.
“Sixty thousand instead of one hundred and twenty thousand!” shouted he. “What does this mean? What have ye done with my army?”
“There are no means to maintain more men.”
“O God!” said the Pharaoh, seizing his head. “But the Assyrians may attack us a month hence. We are disarmed—”
“We have a preliminary treaty with Assyria,” put in Herhor.
“A woman might give such an answer, but not a minister of war,” said Rameses, with indignation. “What does a treaty mean when there is no army behind it: To-day one-half of the troops which King Assar commands would crush us.”
“Deign to be at rest, holy lord. At the first news of Assyrian treason we should have half a million of warriors.”
The pharaoh laughed in his face.
“What? How? Thou art mad, priest! Thou art groping among papyruses, but I have served seven years in the army, and there was almost no day which I did not pass in drill or manœuvres. How couldst thou have an army of half a million in the course of a few months?”
“All the nobility would rise.”
“What is thy nobility? Nobility is not an army. To form an army of half a million, at least a hundred and fifty regiments are needed, and we, as thou thyself sayest, have forty. How could those men who to-day are herding cattle, ploughing land, making pots, or drinking and idling on their lands, learn the art of warfare? Egyptians are poor materials for an army. I know that, for I see them daily. A Libyan, a Greek, a Hittite, in boyhood even uses a bow and arrows and a sling; he handles a club perfectly; in a year he learns to march passably. But only in three years will an Egyptian march in some fashion. It is true that he grows accustomed to a sword and a spear in two years, but to cast missiles four years are too short a time for him. So in the course of a few months ye could put out not an army, but half a million of a rabble which the Assyrians would break to pieces in the twinkle of an eye. For, though the Assyrian regiments are poor and badly trained, an Assyrian knows how to hurl stones and shoot arrows; he knows how to cut and thrust, and, above all, he has the onrush of a wild beast, which is lacking in the mild Egyptians altogether. We break the enemy by this, that our trained and drilled regiments are like a battering ram: it is necessary to beat down one-half of our men before the column is injured. But when the column is broken, there is no Egyptian army.”
“Thou speakest wisdom,” said Herhor to the panting pharaoh. “Only the gods possess such acquaintance with things. I know that the forces of Egypt are too weak; that to create new ones many years of labor are needed. For this very reason I wish to conclude a treaty with Assyria.”
“But ye have concluded it already!”
“For the moment. Sargon, in view of the sickness of thy father, and fearing thee, holiness, deferred the conclusion of a regular treaty till thou shouldst ascend the throne.”
The pharaoh fell into anger again.
“What?” cried he. “Then they think really of seizing Phœnicia! And do they suppose that I will sign the infamy of my reign? Evil spirits have seized all of you!”
The audience was ended. Herhor fell on his face this time, but while returning from his lord he considered in his heart,—
“His holiness has heard the report, hence he does not rejectmy services. I have told him that he must sign a treaty with Assyria, hence the most difficult question is finished. He will come to his mind before Sargon returns to us. But he is a lion, and not even a lion, but a mad elephant. Still he became pharaoh only because he is the grandson of a high priest. He does not understand yet that those same hands which raised him so high—”
In the antechamber the worthy Herhor halted, thought over something; at last instead of going to his own dwelling he went to Queen Nikotris.
In the garden there were neither women nor children, but from the scattered villas came groans. Those were from women belonging to the house of the late pharaoh who were lamenting that sovereign who had gone to the west. Their sorrow, it seemed, was sincere.
Meanwhile the supreme judge entered the cabinet of the new pharaoh.
“What hast thou to tell me, worthiness?” asked Rameses.
“Some days ago an unusual thing happened near Thebes,” replied the judge. “A laborer killed his wife and three children and drowned himself in the sacred lake.”
“Had he gone mad?”
“It seems that his act was caused by hunger.”
The pharaoh grew thoughtful.
“A strange event,” said he, “but I wish to hear of something else. What crimes happen most commonly in these days?”
The supreme judge hesitated.
“Speak boldly,” said the pharaoh, now grown impatient, “and hide nothing from me. I know that Egypt has fallen into a morass; I wish to draw it out, hence I must know everything.”
“The most usual crimes are revolts. But only common people revolt,” added the judge, hastily.
“I am listening,” said the pharaoh.
“In Kosem a regiment of masons and stone-cutters revolted recently; for some time needful supplies had been refused them. In Sechem earth-tillers killed a scribe who was collecting taxes. In Melcatis and Pi-Hebit also earth-tillers wrecked the houses of Phœnician tenants. At Kasa they refused torepair the canal, declaring that pay from the treasury was due them for that labor. Finally in the porphyry quarries the convicts killed their overseers and tried to escape in a body to the seacoast.”
“This news does not surprise me,” replied the pharaoh. “But what dost thou think?”
“It is necessary first of all to punish the guilty.”
“But I think it necessary first of all to give laborers what belongs to them. A hungry ox will lie down; a hungry horse will totter on his feet and pant. How, then, can we ask a hungry man to work and not declare that he is suffering?”
“Then, holiness—”
“Pentuer will open a council to investigate these matters,” interrupted the pharaoh. “Meanwhile I have no desire to punish.”
“In that case a general insurrection will break out,” cried the judge, in alarm.
The pharaoh rested his chin on his hands and considered,—
“Well,” said he, after a while, “let the courts do their work, but as mildly as possible. And this very day Pentuer will assemble his council.”
“In truth,” added he, after a time, “it is easier to make a decision in battle than in the disorder which has mastered Egypt.”
When the supreme judge had departed, the pharaoh summoned Tutmosis. He directed him to salute in the name of the sovereign the army returning from the Soda Lakes, and to distribute twenty talents among the officers and warriors.
Then he commanded Pentuer to come; meanwhile he received the chief treasurer.
“I wish to know,” said he, “what the condition of the treasury is.”
“We have,” replied the dignitary, “at this moment twenty thousand talents of value in the granaries, stables, storehouses, and chests, while taxes are coming in daily.”
“But insurrections are breaking out daily,” added the pharaoh. “What is our general income and outgo?”
“On the army we expend yearly twenty thousand talents; on the court two to three thousand talents monthly.”
“Well, what further? And public works?”
“At present they are carried on without expense,” said the treasurer, dropping his head.
“And the income?”
“We have as much as we expend,” whispered the official.
“Then we have forty or fifty thousand talents yearly. And where is the rest?”
“Mortgaged to the Phœnicians, to certain bankers, to merchants, and to the temples.”
“Well, but there is besides the inviolable treasure of the pharaohs in gold, platinum, and jewels; how much is that worth?”
“That was taken and distributed ten years ago.”
“For what purpose? To whom?”
“For the needs of the court, in gifts to nomarchs and to temples.”
“The court had incomes from current taxes. But could presents exhaust the treasury of my father?”
“Osiris Rameses, thy father, holiness, was a bountiful lord and made great offerings.”
“Is it possible? Were they so great? I wish to know about this,” said the pharaoh, impatiently.
“Exact accounts are in the archives; I remember only general figures.”
“Speak!”
“For example,” answered the treasurer, hesitatingly, “Osiris Rameses in the course of his happy reign gave to the temples about one hundred towns, one hundred and twenty ships, two million head of cattle, two million bags of wheat, one hundred and twenty thousand horses, eighty thousand slaves, two hundred thousand kegs of beer and wine, three million loaves of bread, thirty thousand garments, thirty thousand vessels of honey, olives, and incense. Besides that, one thousand talents of gold, three thousand talents of silver, ten thousand of bronze, five hundred talents of dark bronze, six million garlands of flowers, twelve hundred statues of gods, and thirty thousand precious stones.[25]Other numbers I do not remember at the moment, but they are all recorded.”
[25]The gifts of Rameses III. to the temples were incomparably greater.
[25]The gifts of Rameses III. to the temples were incomparably greater.
The pharaoh raised his hands with laughter, but after a time fell into anger, and cried, while striking the table with his fist,—
“It is an unheard of thing that a handful of priests should use so much beer and bread, so many garlands and robes, while they have their own income,—an immense income, which exceeds the wants of these holy men a hundred times.”
“Thou hast been pleased, holiness, to forget that the priests support tens of thousands of poor; they cure an equal number of sick, and maintain a number of regiments at the expense of the temples.”
“What do they want of regiments? Even the pharaohs use troops only in wartime. As to the sick, almost every man of them pays for himself, or works out what he owes the temple for curing him. And the poor? But they work for the temple: they carry water for the gods, take part in solemnities, and, above all, are connected with the working of miracles. It is they who at the gates of the temples, recover reason, sight, hearing; their wounds are cured, their feet and hands regain strength, while the people looking at these miracles pray all the more eagerly and give offerings to gods the more bountiful.
“The poor are like the oxen and sheep of the temples: they bring in pure profit—”
“But,” the treasurer made bold to put in, “the priests do not expend all the offerings; they lay them up, and increase the capital.”
“For what purpose?”
“For some sudden need of the state.”
“Who has seen this capital?”
“I have seen it myself,” said the dignitary. “The treasures accumulated in the labyrinth do not decrease; they increase from generation to generation, so that in case—”
“So that the Assyrians might have something to take when they conquer Egypt, which is managed by priests so beautifully!” interrupted the pharaoh. “I thank thee, chief treasurer; I knew that the financial condition of Egypt was bad, but I did not suppose the state ruined. There are rebellions, there is no army, the pharaoh is in poverty; but the treasure in the labyrinth is increasing from generation to generation.”
“If each dynasty, an entire dynasty, gave as many gifts to temples as my father has given, the labyrinth would have nineteen thousand talents of gold, about sixty thousand of silver, and so much wheat, and land, so many cattle, slaves, and towns, so many garments and precious stones, that the best accountant could not reckon them.”
The chief treasurer was crushed when taking farewell of the sovereign. But the sovereign himself was not satisfied, for after a moment’s thought it seemed to him that he had spoken too plainly with officials.
THE guard in the antechamber announced Pentuer. The priest prostrated himself before the pharaoh, and said that he was waiting for commands.
“I do not wish to command,” said Rameses, “but to beg thee. Thou knowest that in Egypt there are riots of laborers, artisans, even convicts. There are riots from the sea to the quarries. The only thing lacking is that my warriors should rebel and proclaim as pharaoh—Herhor, for example.”
“Live through eternity, holiness!” replied the priest. “There is not a man in Egypt who would not sacrifice himself for thee, and not bless thy name.”
“Aha, if they knew,” said the ruler, with anger, “how helpless the pharaoh is, and how poor he is, each nomarch would like to be the lord of his province. I thought that on inheriting the double crown I should signify something. But I have convinced myself during the first day that I am merely a shadow of the former rulers of Egypt; for what can a pharaoh be without wealth, without an array, and, above all, without faithful subjects? I am like the statues of the gods which they incense, and before which they place offerings. The statues are powerless and the offerings serve to fatten the priests. But, true, thou art on their side.”
“It is painful to me,” answered Pentuer, “that thou speakest thus, holiness, on the first day of thy reign. If news of this were to go over Egypt!”
“To whom can I tell what pains me?” interrupted Rameses. “Thou art my counsellor; I was saved by thee, or at least thou hadst the wish to save my life, not of course to publish to the world that which is happening in the ruler’s heart, which heart I open before thee. But thou art right.”
He walked up and down in the chamber, and said after a while in a tone considerably calmer,—
“I have appointed thee chief of a council which is to investigate the causes of those ever-recurring riots in Egypt. I wish that only the guilty be punished, and that justice be done those who are injured.”
“May the god support thee with his favor,” whispered the priest. “I will do what thou commandest. But the causes of the riots I know already.”
“What are they?”
“More than once have I spoken of them to thee, holiness. The toiling people are hungry; they have too much work, and they pay too many taxes. He who worked formerly from sunrise till sunset must begin now an hour before sunrise and finish an hour after sunset. It is not long since a common man might go every tenth day to visit the graves of his mother and father, speak with their shades, and make them offerings. But to-day no one goes, for no one has time to go.
“Formerly a working man ate three wheat cakes in the course of the day; at present he has not even barley bread. Formerly labor on the canals, dams, and roads was deducted from the taxes; now the taxes are paid independently while public works are carried on without wages. These are the causes of riots.”
“I am the poorest noble in the kingdom!” cried the pharaoh, while he tugged at his own hair. “Any landowner gives his cattle proper food and rest; but all men who work for me are tired and hungry.
“What am I to do, then, tell thou who hast begged me to improve the lot of the workers?”
“Wilt thou command me to tell, lord?”
“I will beg, I will command, as thou wishest. Only speak wisely.”
“Blessed be thy rule, O true son of Osiris,” answered the priest. “This is what it is proper to do: Command, lord, firstof all, that pay be given for labor on public works, as was the case formerly—”
“Of course.”
“Next command that field labor last only from sunrise till sunset. Then direct, as during the divine dynasties, that people rest every seventh day; not every tenth, but every seventh day. Then command that landowners shall not have the right to mortgage earth-tillers, or scribes the right to beat and torture them according to fancy.
“And finally, give the tenth part, or even the twentieth part of the land as property to the workers, so that no one may take it away or mortgage it. Let each family have as much land in extent as the pavement of this room, and it will not be hungry. Give the people desert sands as property, and in a few years gardens will be growing on them.”
“Thou speakest beautifully,” interrupted the pharaoh; “but what thou sayest is what thou seest in thy heart, not in the world. Men’s plans, though the best, are not always in accord with the natural course of things.”
“I have seen such changes and their result, holiness,” answered Pentuer.
“At certain temples various trials have been made at curing the sick, teaching children, rearing cattle, cultivating plants, and reforming men, and the following has happened: When they gave a lean and lazy man good food, and rest every seventh day, the man became sturdy, willing to work, and he dug more land than before. A laborer who receives wages is more cheerful and does more work than a slave, even though beaten with whips of iron. Well-nourished people have more children than hungry and overworked ones; the children of free men are healthy and strong; those of slaves are fragile, gloomy, inclined to stealing and to lying. Men have convinced themselves that land tilled by its owner gives one half more grain and vegetables than land tilled by captives.
“I will tell a most curious thing to thee, holiness: When they play on musical instruments to ploughmen, the men and the oxen work better, more quickly, and tire themselves less than when there is no music. All this has been verified at our temples.”
The pharaoh smiled.
“I must,” said he, “have music on my lands and in the quarries. But if the priests convince themselves of such wonders as thou art relating, why act as they do on their own estates?”
Pentuer dropped his head.
“Because,” replied he, sighing, “not all priests are sages, not all have noble hearts.”
“That is it!” exclaimed the pharaoh.
“And now tell me, thou who art a son of earth-tillers, and knowest that among priests there are fools and rioters, tell me, why thou art unwilling to serve me in a struggle against the priesthood? Thou knowest that I cannot improve the lot of the working man unless first I teach the priests obedience to my orders.”
Pentuer wrung his hands.
“O lord,” replied he, “a struggle with the priesthood is godless and dangerous. More than one pharaoh began it, and was unable to finish.”
“Because he was not supported by sages like thee!” burst out Rameses. “And, indeed, I shall never understand why wise and honest priests bind themselves to a band of rogues, such as the majority of this class are.”
Pentuer shook his head and began slowly,—
“During thirty thousand years the sacred order of priests has nursed Egypt and made the country the wonder of the world, which it is at present. And how have the priests, in spite of their faults, been able to do this? Because they are the lamp in which burns the light of wisdom.
“This lamp may be foul, even malodorous; still it preserves the divine fire, without which darkness and savagery would prevail among people.
“Thou speakest, lord, of a struggle with the priesthood,” continued Pentuer. “How can that profit me? If thou lose I shall be unhappy, for thou wilt not improve the lot of the worker. And if thou win? May I not live to that! for shouldst thou break the lamp, who knows whether thou wouldst not put out the fire of wisdom which for thousands of years has illuminated Egypt and mankind.
“These, lord, are the reasons why I will not take part in thy struggle with the sacred order of priests. I feel that the struggle is approaching, and I suffer because such a worm as I am unable to prevent it. But I will not participate, for I should have to betray either thee, or the God, the creator of wisdom.”
While hearing these words the pharaoh walked up and down the chamber in thought.
“Aa!” said he, without anger, “do as may please thee. Thou art not a warrior, hence I cannot reproach thee with lack of valor. But thou canst not be my adviser, though I beg thee to form a council to investigate the riots of working men, and, when I summon thee, declare what thy wisdom enjoins.”
Pentuer knelt down in taking farewell of his lord.
“In every case,” added the pharaoh, “know this, that I have no desire to quench the divine light. Let the priests guard wisdom in their temples, but—let them not make my army useless, let them not conclude shameful treaties, and—let them not steal,”—he said this excitedly,—“the treasures of the pharaohs.
“Can they think that I will stand at their gates, like a beggar, asking that they deign to give me funds to restore the state which is ruined by their stupid and villanous management? Ha, ha! Pentuer, I should not ask the gods for that which is my power and my right— Thou mayst go.”
The priest, withdrawing with his face toward the pharaoh, went out backward with obeisance, and when in the doorway he fell with his face on the pavement.
The pharaoh remained alone.
“Mortal men,” thought he, “are like children. Herhor is wise: he knows that Egypt in case of war would need half a million of warriors; he knows that those troops need training, and still he has decreased the number of the regiments.
“The chief treasurer also is wise, but it seems to him quite in order that all the treasure of the pharaohs should go to the labyrinth.
“Finally here is Pentuer. What a strange person he is! He wants me to give earth-tillers food, land, and ever-recurring holidays. All this would decrease my income, which even nowis insufficient. But if I say to him: help me to take the pharaoh’s treasures from the priesthood, he calls that godlessness and the quenching of light in Egypt. Strange man, he would be glad to turn the state bottom upwards, so far as relates to the good of earth-tillers, but he would not venture to seize a high priest and lead him forth to prison. With the utmost composure he commands me to renounce half my income, but I am sure that he would not dare to take a copper uten out of the labyrinth.”
The pharaoh smiled, and again he meditated.
“Each man wants to be happy himself; but if thou wish to give happiness to all men, each one will seize thy hand as he would if thou wert drawing an aching tooth from him.
“Therefore a pharaoh must have decision. Therefore my divine father did ill when he neglected the workers and trusted beyond bounds in the priesthood. He left me a grievous inheritance, but—I will improve it.
“At the Soda Lakes there was also a difficult question, more difficult than this one. Here are only gabblers and timid cowards; there stood armed men ready to go to death.
“One battle will open our eyes more widely than tens of years in peaceful management. Whoso says to himself, ‘I will burst through this hindrance,’ will burst through it. But he who hesitates must yield.”
Darkness came. In the palace the watches were changed, and in the remoter halls torches were lighted. But no one dared enter the sovereign’s chamber unless commanded.
Rameses, wearied by sleeplessness, by the journey of the day previous, by the occupations of that day, dropped into an armchair. It seemed to him that he had been pharaoh for centuries, and he could not believe that one day had not passed since he had been at the pyramids.
“One day? Impossible!”
Then he thought that perhaps the spirits of the former pharaohs had settled in the heart of their heir. It must be so, for otherwise whence could such a feeling of age or remoteness settle down in him? And why did governing the state seem to-day a simple thing, while two months before he was alarmed when he thought that he could not govern.
“One day?” repeated he, in spirit. “But I am a thousand years in this palace!”
Suddenly he heard a repressed voice,—
“My son! O son!”
The pharaoh sprang up from his chair.
“Who art thou?” exclaimed he.
“I am, I— Hast thou forgotten me already?”
“O my son,” said the voice again, “respect the will of the gods if thou wish to receive their blessed assistance—O respect the gods, for without their assistance the greatest power on earth is as dust and shadows—O respect the gods if thou wish that the bitterness of thy faults should not poison my existence in the happy region of the West.”
The voice ceased, Rameses ordered to bring a light. One door of the room was closed, at the other a guard stood. No stranger could enter there.
Anger and alarm tore the pharaoh’s heart. “What was that? Had the shade of his father spoken indeed to him, or was that voice only a new priestly trick?”
But if the priests, notwithstanding thick walls, could speak to him from a distance, they could overhear him. And then he, the lord of the world, was like a wild beast caged in on all sides.
It is true that in the palace of the pharaoh secret listening was common. Rameses had thought, however, that his cabinet was safe, and that the insolence of priests had stopped at the threshold of the supreme ruler.
“But if that was a spirit?”
He did not wish to sup, but betook himself to rest. It seemed to him that he could not sleep; but weariness won the victory over irritation.
In a few hours bells and a light woke him. It was midnight and the astrologer priest came to make a report on the position of the heavenly bodies. The pharaoh heard the report, and said at the end of it,—
“Couldst thou, revered prophet, make thy report to the worthy Sem hereafter? He is my substitute in matters touching religion.”
The astrologer wondered greatly at the indifference of his lord to affairs of the heavens.
“Art thou pleased, holiness,” inquired he, “to refuse those indications which the stars give to rulers?”
“Do they give them?” asked the pharaoh. “Tell what they promise me.”
Clearly the astrologer had looked for the question, so he answered directly,—
“The horizon is darkened for the moment. The lord of light has not come yet to the road of truth which leads to knowledge of the divine will. But sooner or later he will find both long life and a happy reign filled with glory.”
“Aha! I thank thee, holy man. And as soon as I know what to seek I will accommodate myself to the indication. But again I beg thee to communicate henceforth with the holy Sem. He is my substitute, but shouldst thou read anything in the stars thou wilt tell me of it in the morning.”
The priest left the bedchamber shaking his head.
“They have roused me from sleep!” said Rameses, dissatisfied.
“An hour ago Queen Nikotris, most greatly to be revered, commanded me, holiness, to ask of thee an interview,” said an adjutant, suddenly.
“Now? At midnight?” asked the pharaoh.
“Her exact words were that at midnight thou wouldst wake, holiness.”
The pharaoh meditated, then answered the adjutant that he would wait for the queen in the golden hall. He thought that there no one could overhear them.
Rameses threw a mantle over his shoulders, put on sandals unfastened and commanded to light the golden hall brightly. Then he went out, directing the servants not to go with him.
He found Nikotris in the hall; she was wearing coarse linen garments in sign that she was mourning. When she saw the pharaoh she wished to drop on her knees, but her son raised the queen and embraced her.
“Has something important happened, mother, that thou art working at this hour?” inquired Rameses.
“I was not asleep—I was praying,” replied the queen. “O my son, thou hast divined wisely that the affair is important. I have heard the sacred voice of thy father.”
“Indeed!” said the pharaoh, feeling that anger was filling him.
“Thy ever-living father,” continued the queen, “told me, full of sadness, that thou wert entering on a way of error. Thou refusest with contempt the ordination of high priest, and treatest badly the servants of divinity.”
“‘Who will remain with Rameses,’ said thy father, ‘if he angers the gods and the priests desert him? Tell him—tell him,’ repeated the revered shade, ‘that in this way he will ruin Egypt, himself, and the dynasty.’”
“Oho!” said the pharaoh, “then they threaten me thus from the first day of my reign. My mother, a dog barks loudest when he is afraid; so threats are of evil omen, but only for the priesthood.”
“But thy father said this,” repeated the anxious lady.
“My immortal father and my holy grandfather,” said the pharaoh, “being pure spirits know my heart, and see the woful condition of Egypt. But since my heart wishes to raise the state by stopping abuses they would not prevent me from carrying out my measures.”
“Then dost thou not believe that the spirit of thy father gives thee counsel?” asked the queen, with rising terror.
“I know not. But I have the right to suppose that those voices of spirits, which are heard in various corners of our palace, are some trick of the priesthood. Only priests can fear me, never the gods, and spirits. Therefore it is not spirits which are frightening us, mother.”
The queen fell to thinking; it was clear that her son’s words impressed her. She had seen many miracles in her life and some of them had seemed to her suspicious.
“In that case,” said she, with a sigh, “thou art not cautious, my son. This afternoon Herhor visited me; he was very much dissatisfied with the audience. He said that it was thy wish to remove the priests from thy court.”
“But of what use are priests to me? Are they to cause great outgo in my kitchen and cellar? Or, perhaps, to hear what I say, and see what I do?”
“The whole country will revolt,” interrupted the queen, “if the priests declare that thou art an unbeliever.”
“The country is in revolt now. But the priests are the cause of it,” replied the pharaoh. “And touching the devotion of the Egyptian people I begin to have another idea. If thou knew, mother, how many lawsuits there are in Lower Egypt for insults to the gods, and in Upper Egypt for robbing the dead, thou wouldst be convinced that for our people the cause of the priests has ceased to be holy.”
“This is through the influence of foreigners, especially Phœnicians, who are flooding Egypt,” cried the lady.
“All one through whose influence; enough that Egypt no longer considers either statues or priests as superhuman. And wert thou, mother, to hear the nobility, the officers, the warriors talk, thou wouldst understand that the time has come to put the power of the pharaoh in the place of priestly power, unless all power is to fall in this country.”
“Egypt is thine,” sighed the queen. “Thy wisdom is uncommon, so do as may please thee. But act thou with caution—oh, with caution! A scorpion even when killed may still wound an unwary conqueror.”
They embraced and the pharaoh returned to his bedchamber. But, in truth, he could not sleep that time.
He understood clearly that between him and the priesthood a struggle had begun, or rather something repulsive which did not even deserve the name struggle, and which at the first moment he, the leader, could not manage. For where was the enemy? Against whom was his faithful army to show itself? Was it against the priests who fell on their faces before him? Or against the stars which said that the pharaoh had not entered yet on the true way? What and whom was he to vanquish? Was it, perhaps, those voices of spirits which were raised amid darkness? Or was it his own mother, who begged him in terror not to dismiss priests from state offices?
The pharaoh writhed on his bed while feeling his helplessness. Suddenly the thought came to him: “What care I for an enemy which yields like mud in a hand grasp? Let them talk in empty halls, let them be angry at my godlessness. I will issue orders, and whoso will not carry them out is my enemy; against him I will turn courts, police, and warriors.”