Ramses looked at Sarah, and involuntarily he compared her sincere love with the calculations of the Phoenician priestess, her outbursts of tenderness with the treacherous coldness of Kama.
"Indeed," thought he, "the Phoenicians are poisonous reptiles. But if Ramses the Great used a lion in war, why should I not use a serpent against the enemies of Egypt?"
And the more plastically he pictured to himself the perversity of Kama, the more did he desire her. At times heroic souls seek out danger.
He took farewell of Sarah, and suddenly, it is unknown for what reason, he remembered that Sargon had suspected him of taking part in the attack on his person.
The prince struck his forehead.
"Did that second self of mine," thought he, "arrange the attack on the ambassador? But if he did, who persuaded him? Was it Phoenicians? But if they wished to connect my person with such a vile business? Sarah says, justly, that they are scoundrels against whom I should guard myself always."
Straightway anger rose in him, and he determined to settle the question. Since evening was just coming, Ramses, without going home, went to Kama.
It concerned him little that he might be recognized; besides, in case of need, he had a sword on his person.
There was light in the villa of the priestess, but there was no servant at the entrance.
"Thus far," thought he, "Kama has sent away her servants when I was to come. Had she a feeling that I would come today, or will she receive a more fortunate lover?"
He ascended one story, stood before the chamber of the priestess, and pushed aside the curtain quickly. In the chamber were Kama and Hiram; they were whispering.
"Oh, I come at the wrong time!" said Ramses, laughing. "Well, prince, art thou, too, paying court to a woman who cannot be gracious to men unless death be the penalty?"
Hiram and the priestess sprang from their seats.
"Thou wert forewarned by some good spirit that we were speaking of thee, that is clear," said the Phoenician, bowing.
"Are ye preparing some surprise for me?" inquired the heir.
"Perhaps. Who can tell?" answered Kama, with a challenging expression.
"May those who in future wish to surprise me not expose their own necks to the axe or the halter; if they do, they will surprise themselves more than me."
The smile grew cold on Kama's half-open lips; Hiram, now pale, answered humbly,
"How have we earned the anger of our lord and guardian?"
"I would know the truth," said Ramses, sitting down and looking threateningly at Hiram. "I would know who arranged an attack on the Assyrian ambassador, and associated in that villainy a man resembling me as much as my two hands resemble each other?"
"Seest, Kama," said the frightened Hiram, "I told thee that intimacy with that ruffian would bring great misfortune And here it is! We have not waited long to see it."
The priestess fell at the prince's feet.
"I will tell all," cried she, groaning; "only cast from thy heart, lord, anger against Phoenicians. Slay me, imprison me, but be not angry at Phoenicians."
"Who attacked Sargon?"
"Lykon, the Greek, who sings in our temples," said the priestess, still kneeling.
"Aha! it was he, then, who was singing outside thy house, and he resembles me greatly?"
Hiram bent his head and placed his hand on his heart.
"We, lord, have paid that man bountifully because he is so like thee.
We thought that his figure might serve thee should the need come."
"And it has," interrupted the prince. "Where is he? I wish to see this perfect singer, this living picture of myself."
Hiram held his hands apart.
"The scoundrel has fled, but we will find him," replied he, "unless he turns into a fly or an earthworm."
"But Thou wilt forgive me, lord?" whispered the priestess, leaning on the knees of the prince.
"Much is forgiven women," said Ramses.
"And ye will not take vengeance on me?" asked she of Hiram, with fear.
"Phoenicia," replied the old man, deliberately and with emphasis, "forgives the greatest offence to that person who possesses the favor of our lord Ramses, may he live through eternity! As to Lykon," added he, turning to the heir, "Thou wilt have him, dead or living."
Hiram made a profound obeisance and went from the chamber, leaving the prince with the priestess.
The blood rushed to Ramses' head; he embraced the kneeling Kama, and asked,
"Hast Thou heard the words of the worthy Hiram? Phoenicia forgives thee the greatest offence! That man is faithful to me indeed. And if he has said that, what answer wilt Thou find?"
Kama kissed his hands, whispering,
"Thou hast won me I am thy slave. But leave me in peace today, respect the house which belongs to Astaroth."
"Then Thou wilt remove to my palace?" asked the prince.
"O gods, what hast Thou said? Since the sun first rose and set, no priestess of As But this is difficult! Phoenicia, lord, gives thee a proof of attachment and honor such as no son of hers has received at any time."
"Then?" interrupted the prince.
"But not today, and not here," implored Kama.
CHAPTER XXXVIII,
LEARNING from Hiram that the Phoenicians had given him the priestess, Ramses wished to have her in his house at the earliest, not because he could not live without her, but because she had become for him a novelty.
Kama delayed her coming; she implored the prince to leave her in peace till the inflow of pilgrims diminished, and above all till the most noted among them should go from Pi-Bast. Were she to become his favorite during their presence, the income of the temple might decrease and danger threaten the priestess.
"Our sages and great men," said she to Ramses, "would forgive me. But the common people would call the vengeance of the gods on my head, and thou, lord, knowest that the gods have long hands."
"May they not lose these hands in thrusting them under my roof," said
Ramses.
But he did not insist greatly, as his attention was much occupied at that juncture.
The Assyrian ambassadors, Sargon and Istubar, had gone to Memphis to put their names to the treaty. At the same time the pharaoh had summoned Ramses to give a report of his journey.
The prince commanded his scribes to write accurately of all that had happened from the time of leaving Memphis; hence the review of artisans, the visits to fields and factories, the conversations with nomarchs and officials. To present the report he appointed Tutmosis.
"Thou wilt be heart and lips for me before the face of the pharaoh," said the prince to him, "and this is what Thou must do there.
"When the most worthy Herhor asks what, to my thinking, causes the poverty of Egypt and the treasury, tell the minister to turn to his assistant, Pentuer, and he will explain my views in the same way that he did his own in the temple of Hator.
"When Herhor wishes to know my opinion of a treaty with Assyria, answer that my duty is to carry out the commands of my master."
Tutmosis nodded in sign that he comprehended.
"But," continued the heir, "when Thou shalt stand in the presence of my father, may he live through eternity! and convince thyself that no one is listening, fall at his feet in my name, and say,
"Our lord, thy son and servant, the worthy Ramses, to whom Thou hast given life and power, says the following,
"'The cause of Egypt's suffering is the loss of fertile lands taken by the desert, and the loss of men who die from want and hard labor. But know, our lord, that the damage caused thy treasury by priests is no less than that wrought by death and the desert; for not only are the temples filled with gold and jewels, which would suffice to pay our debts entirely, but the holy fathers and the prophets have the best lands, the best slaves and laborers, and lands far greater in extent than those of the divine pharaoh.
"'Thy son and slave, Ramses, says this to thee, he who all the time of his journey had his eyes open like a fish, and his ears set forward like an ass which is watching.'."
The prince stopped. Tutmosis repeated the words mentally.
"If," continued the viceroy, "his holiness asks for my opinion of the
Assyrians, fall on thy face and answer,
"'Thy servant Ramses, if Thou permit, makes bold to say that the Assyrians are strong and large men, and have perfect weapons; but it is evident that they have bad training. At the heels of Sargon marched the best Assyrian warriors, archers, axemen, spearmen, and still there were not six among them who could march in line warrior fashion. Besides they carry their spears crookedly, their swords are badly hung, they bear their axes like carpenters or butchers. Their clothing is heavy, their rude sandals gall their feet, and their shields, though strong, are of small use, for the men are awkward."
"Thou speakest truth," said Tutmosis. "I have noticed that, and I have heard the same from Egyptian officers who declare that Assyrian troops, like those which we saw here, would offer less resistance than the hordes of Libya."
"Say also to our lord, who gives us life, that all the nobles and the
Egyptian army are indignant at the mere report that Assyria might annex
Phoenicia. Why, Phoenicia is the port of Egypt, and the Phoenicians the
best warriors in our navy.
"Say, besides, that I have heard from Phoenicians (of this his holiness must know best of all) that Assyria is weak at the moment, for she has a war on her northern and eastern boundaries; all western Asia is arming against her. Should we attack today, we could win immense wealth, and take multitudes of captives who would help our slaves in their labor.
"But say, in conclusion, that the wisdom of my father excels that of all men, therefore I shall do whatsoever he commands, if only he gives not Phoenicia to King Assar; if he gives it, we are ruined. Phoenicia is the bronze door of our treasure-house, and where is the man who would yield his door to a robber?"
Tutmosis went to Memphis in the month Paofi (July and August).
The Nile was increasing mightily; hence the influx of Asiatic pilgrims to the temple of Astaroth diminished. People of the place betook themselves to the fields to gather with the utmost speed grapes, flax, and a certain plant which furnished cotton.
In one word, the neighborhood grew quiet, and the gardens surrounding the temples were almost deserted.
At that time Prince Ramses, relieved from amusements and the duties of the state, turned to his love affair with Kama. On a certain day he had a secret consultation with Hiram, who at his command gave the temple of Astaroth twelve talents in gold, a statue of the goddess wonderfully carved out of malachite, fifty cows and of wheat one hundred and fifty measures. That was such a generous gift that the high priest of the temple himself came to Ramses to fall prostrate and thank him for the favor which, as he said, people who loved the goddess would remember during all the ages.
Having settled with the temple, the prince summoned the chief of police in Pi-Bast and passed a long hour with him. Because of this the whole city was shaken some days later under the influence of extraordinary tidings: Kama, the priestess of Astaroth, had been seized, borne away and lost, like a grain of sand in a desert.
This unheard-of event occurred under the following conditions: The high priest of the temple sent Kama to the town Sabne-Chetam at Lake Menzaleh with offerings for the chapel of Astaroth in that place. To avoid summer heat and secure herself against curiosity and the homage of people, the priestess journeyed in a boat and during night hours. Toward morning, when the three wearied rowers were dozing, boats manned by Greeks and Hittites pushed out suddenly from among reeds at the shore, surrounded the boat bearing Kama, and carried off the priestess. The attack was so sudden that the Phoenician rowers made no resistance. The strangers gagged Kama, evidently, for she remained silent. The Greeks and Hittites after the sacrilege vanished in the reeds, to sail toward the sea afterward. To prevent pursuit they sank the boat which had borne the priestess.
Pi-Bast was as excited as a beehive. People talked of nothing else. They even guessed who did the deed. Some suspected Sargon, who had offered Kama the title of wife if she would leave the temple and remove to Nineveh. Others suspected Lykon, the temple singer, who long had burned with passion for the priestess. He was moreover rich enough to hire Greek slaves, and so godless that he would not hesitate to snatch away a priestess.
A Phoenician council of the richest and most faithful members was summoned to the temple. The council resolved, first of all, to free Kama from her duties as priestess and remove from her the curse against a virgin who lost her innocence in the service of the goddess.
That was a wise and pious resolution, for if some one had carried off the priestess and deprived her of sacredness against her will, it would have been unjust to punish her.
A couple of days later they announced, with sound of trumpet, to worshippers in the temple that the priestess Kama was dead, and if any man should meet a woman seeming like her he would have no right to seek revenge or even make reproaches. The priestess had not left the goddess, but evil spirits had borne her off; for this they would be punished.
That same day the worthy Hiram visited Ramses and gave him in a gold tube a parchment furnished with a number of seals of priests and signatures of Phoenician notables.
That was the decision of the spiritual court of Astaroth, which released Kama from her vows and freed her from the curse if she would renounce the name which she had borne while priestess.
The prince took this document and went after sundown to a certain lone villa in his garden. He opened the door in some unknown way and ascended one story to a room of medium dimensions, where by light from a carved lamp in which fragrant olive oil was burning, he saw Kama.
"At last!" cried he, giving her the gold tube. "Thou hast everything according to thy wishes."
The Phoenician woman was feverish; her eyes flashed. She snatched the tube, looked at it, and threw it on the floor.
"Dost think this gold?" asked she. "I will bet my necklace that that tube is copper, and only covered on both sides with thin strips of gold."
"Is that thy way of greeting me?" inquired the astonished Ramses.
"Yes, for I know my brethren," said she. "They counterfeit not only gold, but rubies and sapphires."
"Woman," said the heir, "in this tube is thy safety."
"What is safety to me? I am wearied in this place, and I am afraid. I have sat here four days as in prison."
"Dost Thou lack anything?"
"I lack air, amusement, laughter, songs, people. O vengeful goddess, how harshly Thou art punishing!"
The prince listened with amazement. In that mad woman he could not recognize the Kama whom he had seen in the temple, that woman over whose person had floated the passionate song of the Greek Lykon.
"Tomorrow," said the prince, "Thou canst go to the garden; and when we visit Memphis or Thebes, Thou wilt amuse thyself as never in thy life before. Look at me. Do I not love thee, and is not the honor which belongs to me enough for a woman?"
"Yes," answered she, pouting, "but Thou hadst four women before me."
"But if Hove thee best?"
"If Thou love me best, make me first, put me in the palace which that Jewess Sarah occupies, and give a guard to me, not to her. Before the statue of Astaroth I was first. Those who paid homage to the goddess, when kneeling before her, looked at me. But here what? Troops beat drums and sound flutes; officials cross their hands on their breasts, and incline their heads before the house of the Jewess."
"Before my first-born son," interrupted the prince, now impatient, "and he is no Jew."
"He is a Jew!" screamed Kama.
Ramses sprang up.
"Art Thou mad?" but quieting himself quickly, he added, "Dost Thou not know that my son cannot be a Jew"
"But I tell thee that he is a Jew!" cried Kama, beating the table with her fist. "He is a Jew, just as his grandfather is, just as his uncles are; and his name is Isaac."
"What hast Thou said, Phoenician woman? Dost wish that I should turn thee out?"
"Turn me out if a lie has gone from my lips. But if I have spoken truth, turn out that woman with her brat and give me her palace. I wish and deserve to be first in thy household. She deceives thee, reviles thee. But, I for thy sake, have deserted my goddess and exposed myself to her vengeance."
"Give me proofs and the palace will be thine. No, that is false!" said
Ramses. "Sarah would not permit such a crime. My first-born son!"
"Isaac Isaac!" cried Kama. "Go to her, and convince thyself."
Ramses, half unconscious, ran out from Kama's house and turned toward Sarah's villa. Though the night was starry, he lost his way and wandered a certain time through the garden. The cool air sobered him; he found the road to the villa and entered almost calmly.
Though the hour was late, they were awake there. Sarah with her own hands was washing swaddling-clothes for her son, and the servants were passing their time in eating, drinking, and music. When Ramses, pale from emotion, stood on the threshold, Sarah cried out, but soon calmed herself.
"Be greeted, lord," said she, wiping her wet hands and bending to his feet.
"Sarah, what is the name of thy son?" inquired he.
She seized her head in terror.
"What is thy son's name?" repeated he.
"But Thou knowest, lord, that it is Seti," answered she, with a voice almost inaudible.
"Look me in the eyes."
"O Jehovah!" whispered Sarah.
"Thou seest that Thou art lying. And now I will tell thee, my son, the son of the heir to the throne of Egypt, is called Isaac and he is a Jew a low Jew."
"O God, O God of mercy!" cried Sarah, throwing herself at his feet.
Ramses did not raise his head for an instant, but his face was gray.
"I was forewarned," said he, "not to take a Jewess to my house. I was disgusted when I saw thy country place filled with Jews; but I kept my disgust in subjection, for I trusted thee. But them, with thy Jews, hast stolen my son from me, Thou child thief!"
"The priests commanded that he should become a Jew," whispered Sarah, sobbing at the feet of Ramses.
"The priests! What priests?"
"The most worthy Herhor, the most worthy Mefres. They said that it must be so, that thy son would become the first king of the Jews."
"The priests? Mefres?" repeated the prince. "King of the Jews? But I have told thee that thy son would become the chief of my archers, my secretary. I told thee this, and thou, wretched woman, didst think that the title of king of the Jews was equal to that of my secretary and archer. Mefres Herhor! Thanks to the gods that at last I understand those dignitaries and know what fate they are preparing for my descendants."
He thought awhile, gnawing his lips. Suddenly he called with a powerful voice,
"Hei, servants, warriors!"
The room was filled in the twinkle of an eye. Sarah's serving-women came in, the scribe and manager of the house, then the slaves; finally, a few warriors with an officer.
"Death!" cried Sarah, with a piercing voice.
She rushed to the cradle, seized her son, and, standing in the corner of the room, called out,
"Kill me; but I will not yield my son!"
Ramses smiled.
"Centurion," said he to the officer, "take that woman with her child and conduct her to the building where my household slaves dwell. That Jewess will not be mistress here; she is to be the servant of her who takes this place.
"And thou, steward," said he, turning to the official, "see that the Jewess does not forget, to-morrow morning, to wash the feet of her mistress, who will come hither directly. If this serving-woman should prove stubborn, she is to receive stripes at command of her mistress. Conduct the woman to the servants' quarters."
The officer and steward approached Sarah, but stopped, as they dared not touch her; but there was no need to do so.
Sarah wound a garment around the puling child, and left the room, whispering,
"O God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, have mercy on us!"
She bowed low before the prince, and from her eyes tears flowed in silence.
While she was still in the antechamber, Ramses heard her sweet voice,
"God of Abraham Isa."
When all was quiet, the viceroy called the officer and steward.
"Go with torches to the house among the fig-trees."
"I understand," replied the steward.
"And conduct hither, immediately, the woman who dwells there."
"It will be done."
"Thenceforth that woman will be thy mistress and the mistress of Sarah; the Jewess must wash the feet of her mistress every morning, pour water to her, and hold a mirror before her. That is my will, my command."
"It shall be accomplished," said the steward.
"And to-morrow morning Thou wilt tell me if the new servant is stubborn."
When he had given these commands, he returned home; but he did not sleep that night. He felt that without raising his voice for a moment he had crushed Sarah, the wretched Jewess, who had dared to deceive him. He had punished her as a king who with one movement of the eye dashes people down from heights into the abyss of servitude. But Sarah was merely an instrument of the priests, and the heir had too great a feeling of justice to forgive the real authors when he had broken the instrument.
His rage was intensified all the more because the priests were unassailable. He might send out Sarah with her child in the middle of the night to the servants' house, but he could not deprive Herhor of his power, nor Mefres of the high priesthood. Sarah had fallen at his feet, like a trampled worm; but Herhor and Mefres, who had snatched his first-born from him, towered above Egypt, and, oh, shame! above him, the corning pharaoh, like pyramids.
And he could not tell how often in that year he had recalled the wrongs which priests had inflicted. At school they had beaten him with sticks till his back was swollen, or had tortured him with hunger till his stomach and spine had grown together. At the maneuvers of the year past, Herhor spoiled his whole plan, then put the blame on him, and took away the command of an army corps. That same Herhor drew on Mm the displeasure of his holiness because he had taken Sarah to his house, and did not restore him to honor till the humiliated prince had passed a couple of months in a voluntary exile.
It would seem that when he had been leader of a corps and was viceroy the priests would cease tormenting him with their guardianship. But just then they appeared with redoubled energy. They had made him viceroy; for what purpose? to remove him from the pharaoh, and conclude a shameful treaty with Assyria. They had used force in such form that he betook himself to the temple as a penitent to obtain information concerning the condition of the state; there they deceived him through miracles and terrors, and gave thoroughly false explanations.
Next they interfered with his amusements, his women, his relations with the pharaoh, his debts, and, finally, to humiliate and render him ridiculous in the eyes of Egyptians, they made his first-born a Hebrew.
Where was the laborer, where the slave, where an Egyptian convict in the quarries who had not the right to say, "I am better than thou, the viceroy, for no son of mine is a Hebrew."
Feeling the weight of the insult, Ramses understood at the same time that he could not avenge himself immediately. Hence he determined to defer that affair to the future. In the school of the priests he had learned self-command, in the court he had learned deceit and patience; those qualities became a weapon and a shield to him in his battle with the priesthood. Till he was ready he would lead them into error, and when the moment came he would strike so hard that they would never rise again.
It began to dawn. The heir fell asleep, and when he woke the first person he saw was the steward of Sarah's villa.
"What of the Jewess?" asked the prince.
"According to thy command, worthiness, she washed the feet of her new mistress," answered the official.
"Was she stubborn?"
"She was full of humility, but not adroit enough; so the angry lady struck the Jewess with her foot between the eyebrows."
The prince sprang up.
"And what did Sarah do?" inquired he, quickly.
"She fell to the pavement. And when the new mistress commanded her to go, she went out, weeping noiselessly."
The prince walked up and down in the chamber.
"How did she pass the night?"
"The new lady?"
"No! I ask about Sarah."
"According to command, Sarah went with her child to the servants' house. The women, from compassion, yielded a fresh mat to her, but she did not lie down to sleep; she sat the whole night with her child on her knees."
"But how is the child?" asked Ramses.
"The child is well. This morning, when the Jewess went to serve her new mistress, the other women bathed the little one in warm water, and the shepherd's wife, who also has an infant, gave her breast to it."
The prince stopped before the steward.
"It is wrong," said he, "when a cow instead of suckling its calf goes to the plough and is beaten. Though this Jewess has committed a great offence, I do not wish that her innocent child should be a sufferer. Therefore Sarah will not wash the feet of the new lady again, and will not be kicked between the eyes by her a second time. Thou wilt set aside for her use in the servants' house a room with food and furniture such as are proper for a woman recovered recently from childbirth. And let her nourish her infant in peace there."
"Live Thou through eternity, our ruler!" answered the steward; and he ran quickly to carry out the commands of the viceroy.
All the servants loved Sarah, and in a few days they had occasion to hate the angry and turbulent Kama.
CHAPTER XXXIX
THE priestess brought little happiness to the viceroy. When he came the first time to visit her in the villa occupied recently by Sarah, he thought: "I shall be met with delight now and gratitude."
Meanwhile Kama received him almost with anger.
"What is this?" cried she. "A half day has passed, and that wretched
Jewess is restored to thy favor."
"Does she not dwell in the servants' house?" asked the prince.
"But my steward says that she will wash my feet no longer."
When the prince heard this, a feeling of disgust seized him.
"Thou art not satisfied, I see," said he.
"I shall not be satisfied till I humiliate that Jewess," cried Kama, "till she, by serving me and kneeling at my feet, forgets that she was once thy first woman and the mistress of this villa. I shall not be satisfied till my servants cease to look at me with fear and without confidence, and on her with compassion."
The Phoenician woman was less and less pleasing to Ramses.
"Kama," said he, "consider what I tell thee: If a servant here were to kick in the teeth a female dog that was suckling its young, I should hunt that servant out of this villa. Thou hast struck with thy foot between the eyes a woman and a mother. In Egypt mother is a great word. A good Egyptian reverences three things beyond all others, the gods, the pharaoh, and his own mother."
"Oh, woe to me!" cried Kama, throwing herself on the couch. "Here is my reward, wretched woman, for denying my goddess. One week ago men placed flowers at my feet and burnt incense before me, but today."
The prince walked out of the chamber quietly, and saw the priestess again only after some days had passed.
But she was still in evil humor.
"I implore thee, lord," cried she, "think a little more of me. My servants even begin to contemn me, the warriors look at me with a frown, and I am afraid that some one in the kitchen may poison the food prepared for me."
"I was occupied with the army, so I could not visit thee," replied the viceroy.
"That is untrue," answered Kama, in anger. "Yesterday Thou wert outside the entrance to this house, and then Thou didst go to the servants' house, where dwells the Jewess. Thou didst this to show."
"Enough!" interrupted the prince. "I was neither here nor at the servants' house. If it seemed to thee that Thou wert looking at me, that means that thy lover, that worthless Greek, not only has not left Egypt, but even dares to wander through my garden."
The Phoenician woman heard him with fright.
"Astaroth!" cried she, suddenly. "Save me! Hide me, O earth! for if that wretch Lykon returns mighty misfortune is threatening me."
The prince laughed, but he had not patience to listen to the complaints of the ex-priestess.
"Be at rest," said he, when going, "and wonder not if after some days men bring in thy Lykon bound like a jackal. That insolent ruffian has worn out my patience."
On returning to his palace the prince summoned Hiram and the chief of police in Pi-Bast. He told them that Lykon, the Greek with a face resembling his, was prowling around among the palaces, and he gave command to seize him. Hiram swore that if Phoenicians helped the police the Greek would be taken. But the chief shook his head.
"Dost doubt?" asked the prince.
"Yes, lord. In Pi-Bast dwell many pious Asiatics who think the priestess worthy of death because she deserted the altar. If this Greek has bound himself to kill Kama, they will help him, they will conceal the man, and facilitate flight for him."
"What is thy answer to this?" asked the heir of Hiram.
"The worthy master of the palace speaks wisely," replied the old
Phoenician.
"But ye have freed Kama from the curse."
"I guarantee that Phoenicians will not touch Kama, and will pursue the
Greek. But what is to be done with the other adherents of Astaroth?"
"I make bold to think," said the chief, "that nothing threatens this woman at present. If she had courage, we might employ her to decoy the Greek, and seize him here in thy palaces, O Erpatr."
"Then go to her," said the prince, "and lay before her whatever plan Thou mayst think out. And if Thou seize the man, I will give thee ten talents."
When the heir left them, Hiram said to the chief,
"Dignitary, I am aware that Thou knowest both kinds of writing, and that the wisdom of priests is not strange to thee. When Thou hast the wish, Thou art able to hear through walls and see things in darkness. For this reason Thou knowest the thoughts of the man who works with a bucket, the laborer, the artisan who takes sandals to market, the great lord who in the escort of his servants feels as safe as a child on the bosom of its mother."
"Thou speakest truth," replied the official. "The gods have given me a wonderful gift of clear insight."
"That is it; thanks to thy gifts, Thou hast guessed beyond doubt that the temple of Astaroth will appoint to thee twenty talents if Thou seize that wretch who dares assume the appearance of the prince, our viceroy. Besides, in every case, the temple offers thee ten talents if news of the likeness of the wretched Lykon to the heir is not reported throughout Egypt; for it is offensive and improper that an ordinary mortal should recall by his features a personage descended from divinity."
"Therefore let not that which Thou hearest of the wretched Lykon go beyond our own hearts, nor any word touching our chase after that godless outcast."
"I understand," replied the official. "It may even happen that such a criminal may lose his life before we can give him to the court."
"Thou hast said it," replied Hiram, pressing his hand; "and every help asked by thee of Phoenicians will be furnished."
They parted like two friends who were hunting a wild beast, and knew that the problem was not that their spear should strike, but that the beast should drop in its tracks and not go into other hands.
After some days Ramses visited Kama again, but found her in a state touching on insanity. She hid herself in the darkest room of the villa; she was hungry, her hair was not dressed, she was even unwashed. She gave the most contradictory commands to her servants; at one time she ordered all to come to her, at another she sent all away. In the night she summoned the guard of warriors, and fled to the highest chamber soon after, crying out that they wished to kill her.
In view of these actions all desire vanished from the prince's soul, and there remained simply a feeling of great trouble. He seized his head when the steward of the palace and the officer told him of these wonders, and he whispered:
"Indeed, I did badly in taking that woman from her goddess; for the goddess alone could endure her caprices with patience."
He went, however, to Kama, and found her emaciated, broken, and trembling.
"Woe to me!" cried she. "There are none around me but enemies. My tirewoman wishes to poison me; my hairdresser to give me some dreadful disease. The warriors are waiting an opportunity to bury swords and spears in my bosom; I am sure that instead of food, they prepare for me magic herbs in the kitchen. All are rising up to destroy me."
"Kama!" interrupted the prince.
"Call me not by that name!" whispered she; "it will bring me misfortune."
"But how do these ideas come to thee?"
"How? Dost Thou think that in the daytime I do not see strange people who appear at the palace and vanish before I can call in my servants? And in the night do I not hear people outside the wall whispering?"
"It seems so to thee."
"Cursed! Cursed!" cried Kama, weeping. "Ye all say that it seems to me. But the day before yesterday some criminal hand threw into my bedchamber a veil, which I wore half a day before I saw that it was not mine and that I had never worn a veil like it."
"Where is that veil?" inquired the prince, now alarmed.
"I burned it, but I showed it first to my servants."
"If not thine even, what harm could come of it?"
"Nothing yet. But had I kept that rag in the house two days longer, I should have been poisoned, or caught some incurable disorder. I know Asiatics and their methods."
Wearied and irritated, the prince left her at the earliest, in spite of entreaties to stay. When he asked the servants about that veil, the tirewoman declared that it was not one of Kama's; some person had thrown it into the chamber.
The prince commanded to double the watch at the villa and around it, and returned in desperation to his dwelling.
"Never should I have believed," said he, "that a single weak woman could bring so much trouble. Four freshly caught hyenas are not so restless as that Kama!"
At his palace the prince found Tutmosis, who had just returned from
Memphis and had barely taken time to bathe and dress after the journey.
"What hast Thou to say?" inquired the prince of his favorite, divining that he had not brought pleasant tidings. "Hast Thou seen his holiness?"
"I saw the sun-god of Egypt, and this is what he said to me."
"Speak," hurried Ramses.
"Thus spoke our lord," answered Tutmosis, crossing his arms on his breast: "For four and thirty years have I directed the weighty car of Egypt, and I am so wearied that I yearn to join my mighty forefathers who dwell now in the western kingdom. Soon I shall leave this earth, and then my son, Ramses, will sit on the throne, and do with the state what wisdom points out to him."
"Did my holy father speak thus?"
"Those are his words repeated faithfully. A number of times the lord spoke explicitly, saying that he would leave no command to thee, so that Thou mightst govern Egypt as thy wishes indicate."
"Ob, holy one! Is his illness really serious? Why did he not summon me?" asked the prince, in sorrow.
"Thou must be here, for Thou mayst be of service in this part of
Egypt."
"But the treaty with Assyria?"
"It is concluded in this sense, that Assyria may wage war on the east and north without hindrance from Egypt. But the question of Phoenicia remains in abeyance till Thou art the pharaoh."
"O blessed! O holy ruler! From what a dreadful heritage Thou hast saved me."
"So Phoenicia remains in abeyance," continued Tutmosis. "But still there is one bad thing. His holiness, to show Assyria that he will not hinder her in the war against northern peoples, has commanded to decrease our army by twenty thousand mercenaries."
"What dost Thou tell me!" cried the heir, astounded.
Tutmosis shook his head in sign of sorrow.
"I speak the truth, and four Libyan regiments are now disbanded."
"But this is madness!" almost howled the heir, wringing his hands. "Why have we so weakened ourselves, and whither will those disbanded men go?"
"They have gone to the Libyan desert already, and will either attack the Libyans, which will cause us trouble, or will join them and both will attack then our western border."
"I have heard nothing of this! What did they do, and when did they do it? No news reached us!" cried Ramses.
"The disbanded troops went to the desert from Memphis, and Herhor forbade to mention this news to any person."
"Do neither Mefres nor Mentezufis know of this matter?"
"They know."
"They know, and I do not."
The prince grew calm on a sudden, but he was pale, and on his young face was depicted terrible hatred. He seized both hands of his favorite, pressed them firmly, and whispered,
"Hear me! By the sacred heads of my father and mother, by the memory of Ramses the Great by all the gods, if there are any, I swear that during my rule if the priests will not bow down before me I will crush them."
Tutmosis listened in alarm.
"I or they!" finished the prince. "Egypt cannot have two lords."
"Formerly it had only one, the pharaoh," added Tutmosis.
"Then Thou wilt be loyal to me?"
"I, all the nobles, and the army, I swear to thee."
"Enough!" concluded Ramses. "Let them discharge the mercenary regiments, let them sign treaties, let them hide before me like bats, and let them deceive us all. But the time will come And now, Tutmosis, rest after the journey; be with me at the feast this evening. Those people have so bound me that I can only amuse myself. Then let me amuse myself. But in time I will show them who the ruler of Egypt is, they or I."
From that day feasts began again. The prince, as if ashamed to meet the army, was not present at drills. Still, his palace was swarming with nobles, officers, jugglers, and singers, while at night great orgies took place, at which the sound of harps mingled with the drunken shouts of guests and the spasmodic laughter of women.
Ramses invited Kama to one of these feasts, but she refused.
The prince was offended. Seeing this, Tutmosis said,
"They have told me, lord, that Sarah has lost thy favor."
"Do not mention that Jewess to me," replied Ramses. "But dost Thou know what she did with my son?"
"I know; but that, it seems to me, was not her fault. I heard in Memphis that thy worthy mother and the worthy minister Herhor made thy son a Jew, so that he might rule over Israelites sometime."
"But the Israelites have no king, only priests and judges," interrupted the prince.
"They have not, but they wish to have. They, too, are disgusted with priestly rule."
The heir waved his hand contemptuously.
"A charioteer of his holiness means more than any king, especially any king of the Israelites, who as yet have no kingdom."
"In every case, Sarah's fault is not so great," put in Tutmosis.
"Then know that I will pay the priests sometime."
"They are not to blame so greatly. For instance, the worthy Herhor did this to increase the glory and power of thy dynasty. And he did it with the knowledge of thy mother."
"But why does Mefres interfere? His single duty is to care for the temple, not influence the fate of the pharaoh's descendants."
"Mefres is an old man growing whimsical. The whole court of his holiness jeers at him because of practices, of which I know nothing, though I see the holy man almost daily."
"This is curious. What does he do?"
"A number of times during twenty-four hours he performs solemn services in the most secret parts of the temple, and he commands the priests to see if the gods do not hold him suspended while praying."
"Ha! ha!" laughed Ramses. "And all this is going on in Pi-Bast here under our eyes, and I do not know of it?"
"A priestly secret."
"A secret of which all in Memphis are talking! Ha! ha! ha! In the amphitheatre I saw a Chaldean suspended in the air."
"I saw him too; but that was a trick, while Mefres wishes to be borne above the earth really on the wings of his devotion."
"Unheard-of buffoonery! What do the other priests say to this?"
"Perhaps in our sacred papyruses there is mention that in old times there were prophets among us who had the gift of suspending themselves in the air; so the desires of Mefres do not astonish priests nowadays. And since, as is known to thee, subordinates among us see whatever pleases superiors, some holy men claim that during prayer Mefres really rises a couple of fingers high above the pavement."
"Ha! ha! ha! And with this great secret the whole court is occupied, and we, like laborers or earth-diggers, do not even suspect that miracles are wrought at one side of us. A wretched fate to be heir to the throne of Egypt!" laughed the viceroy.
When he grew calm, at the repeated request of Tutmosis, he commanded to transfer Sarah from the servants' house to Kama's first villa. The servants were delighted at this change; all the serving and slave women, and even the scribes conducted Sarah to her new dwelling with music and shouts of pleasure.
The Phoenician woman, when she heard the uproar, asked the reason; and when they told her that Sarah had been restored to the favor of the prince, and that from the servants' house she had been transferred to the villa, the enraged ex-priestess sent for Ramses.
The prince came.
"Dost Thou treat me in this way?" screamed she, losing control of her temper. "Thou didst promise that I should be thy first woman, but before the moon traversed half the heavens thy promise was broken. Perhaps Thou thinkest that the vengeance of Astaroth will fall on the priestess alone, and not reach to princes."
"Tell thy Astaroth," replied Ramses, calmly, "not to threaten princes, or she may go herself to the servants' house."
"I understand!" exclaimed Kama. "I shall go to the servants' house, perhaps even to prison, while Thou wilt spend nights with thy Jewess. Because I have left the gods for thee I have drawn down a curse on my own head. Because I left them I know no rest for a moment; I have lost my youth for thee, my life, my soul even, and this is the pay which Thou givest me."
The prince confessed in his heart that Kama had sacrificed much for him, and he felt compunction.
"I have not been and shall not be with Sarah," said he. "But does it harm thee that the ill-fated woman has some comfort and can nourish her child unmolested?"
Kama trembled. She raised her clinched fist, her hair stirred, and in her eyes an ugly fire of hate was flashing.
"Is this the answer which Thou givest me? The Jewess is unhappy because Thou didst drive her from the villa, and I must be satisfied, though the gods have driven me out of their temples. But my soul the soul of a priestess who is drowning in tears and in terror does not mean more for thee than that brat of the Jew woman this child, which, would he were dead may he."
"Silence!" cried the prince, shutting her mouth.
She drew back frightened.
"Then may I not even complain of my wretchedness?" inquired she. "But if Thou art so careful of that child, why steal me from the temple, why promise that I should be first in thy household? Have a care," continued she, raising her voice again, "that Egypt, after learning my fate, may not call thee a faith-breaker."
The prince turned his head and laughed. But he sat down, and said,
"My teacher was right, indeed, when he warned me against women: Ye are like ripe peaches in the eyes of a man whose tongue thirst has parched, but peaches ripe only in appearance. Woe to the fool who dares bite that fruit of fair seeming; instead of cooling sweetness he will find a nest of wasps that will sting not his lips alone, but his heart also."
"Wilt Thou complain? Wilt Thou not spare me even this shame after I have sacrificed to thee both my dignity of priestess and my virtue?"
The heir shook his head and smiled.
"Never could I have thought," said he, after a while, "that the story told by laborers before bedtime could have come true. But today I see the truth of it. Listen to me, Kama; perhaps Thou wilt stop, and not force me to withdraw the goodwill which I have for thee."
"He wishes now to tell a fable!" said the priestess, bitterly. "Thou hast told me one already, and I was profited by hearing it."
"This will profit thee if Thou understand it."
"Will there be anything about Jewish brats in it?"
"Of priestesses there will be; only listen carefully.
"The following thing happened here long ago, in Pi-Bast: [A true story.]
"Once Prince Satni, on the square before the temple of Ptah, saw a very beautiful woman. She surpassed all whom he had met before, and, what was more noteworthy, she had much gold on her person.
"She pleased the prince greatly, and when he learned that she was the daughter of the high priest, he sent his equerry to her with the following offer,
"'I will give thee gold rings if Thou wilt pass one short hour in my company.'
"The equerry went to the beautiful Tbubui and repeated the words of Prince Satni. When she had listened to him politely, she answered as became a well-bred young lady,
"'I am the daughter of a high priest; I am innocent, no low girl. So, if the prince wishes to have the pleasure of knowing me, let him come to my house, where everything will be ready, and where acquaintance with him will not expose me to the scandal of all the street gossips.'
"Prince Satni went to Tbubui's chambers, the walls of which were covered with lapis lazuli and pale green enamel. There were also many couches decked with regal linen, and not a few one-legged tables on which gold goblets were standing. One of these goblets was filled with wine and given to the prince, while Tbubui said to him, 'Be gracious, and drink.' To this the prince answered, 'Thou knowest that I have not come to drink wine here.' Still the two sat down at the feast, during which Tbubui wore a long, heavy robe fastened at her neck closely. When the prince, excited by wine, wished to kiss her, she repelled him, and answered,
"'This house will be thine. But remember that I am no street woman, but an innocent maiden. If Thou wish from me obedience, swear faith, and convey to me thy property.'
"'Let the scribe come!' cried the prince. When they brought in the scribe, Satni commanded him to write an act of betrothal, also a deed by which he transferred to Tbubui all his money, and all his property, personal and real.
"An hour later the servants announced to the prince that his children were waiting in the lower story. Tbubui left him then, but returned soon, attired in a transparent gauze robe. Satni wished again to embrace her, but she repelled him a second time, saying: 'This house will be thine. But, since I am no common woman, but an innocent maiden, if Thou wish to possess me, let thy children renounce every claim, lest they raise lawsuits hereafter with my children.'
"Satni called up his children, and commanded them to sign an act renouncing all claim to his possessions. They did so. But when, roused by long resistance, he approached Tbubui, she repelled him, saying,
"'This house will be thine. But I am no chance passing woman, I am a pure maiden. If Thou love me, give consent to kill those children lest they take property from my children.'"
"This is rather a long story," said Kama, impatiently.
"It will end right away. And dost Thou know, Kama, what Satni replied to this: 'If Thou wish, let the crime be accomplished.' Tbubui gave no chance to have these words said a second time. Before their father's eyes she commanded to kill the children, and throw their bloody limbs to dogs and cats outside the windows. Only after that did Satni enter her chamber and repose on her bed, inlaid with ivory."
"Tbubui did well not to trust to men's promises," said the irritated
Kama.
"But Satni," said the heir, "did better. He woke, for his dreadful crime was a dream only. And remember this, Kama, the surest way to rouse a man from love's intoxication is to curse his son."
"Be at rest, lord," said Kama, gloomily, "I will never mention hereafter thy son or my sorrow."
"And I will not withdraw my favor from thee, and Thou wilt be happy," said Ramses, in conclusion.
CHAPTER XL
Among the inhabitants of Pi-Bast alarming news had begun to circulate concerning the Libyans. It was said that those barbarian warriors, disbanded by the priests, began by begging on the road homeward, then they stole, and finally they fell to robbing and burning Egyptian villages, murdering the inhabitants meanwhile.
In the course of a few days they attacked and destroyed the towns of Chinen-su, Pinat, and Kasa, south of Lake Moeris, and they cut down also a caravan of merchants and Egyptian pilgrims returning from the oasis Uit-Mehe. The entire western boundary of the state was in peril, and even from Teremethis inhabitants began to flee. And in the neighborhood beyond that, toward the sea, appeared bands of Libyans, sent, as it were, by the terrible chief, Musawasa, who, it seemed, was to declare a sacred war against Egypt.
Moreover, if any evening a western strip of sky was red for too long a time alarm fell on Pi-Bast. The people gathered along the streets; some of them went out on the flat roofs, or climbed trees, and declared that they saw a fire in Menuf or in Sechem. Some, even, in spite of darkness, saw fleeing people, or Libyan bands marching toward Pi-Bast in long black columns.
Notwithstanding the indignation of people, the rulers of provinces remained indifferent, for the central power issued no order.
Prince Ramses saw this alarm of the people and the indifference of dignitaries. Mad anger seized him, because he received no command from Memphis, and because neither Mefres nor Mentezufis spoke with him of dangers threatening Egypt.
But since neither priest visited him, and both, as it were, avoided conversation, the viceroy did not seek them, nor did he make any military preparations.
At last he ceased to visit the regiments stationed at Pi-Bast, but assembling at the palace all the young nobles, he amused himself and feasted, repressing in his heart indignation at the priests and anxiety for the fate of the country.
"Thou wilt see!" said he once to Tutmosis. "The holy prophets will manage us so that Musawasa will take Lower Egypt, and we shall have to flee to Thebes, if not to Sunnu, unless the Ethiopians drive us also from that place."
"Thou speakest truth," replied Tutmosis; "our rulers' acts resemble those of traitors."
The first day in the month of Hator (August-September) a great feast was given at the palace of the viceroy. They began to amuse themselves at two in the afternoon, and before sunset all present were drunk. It went so far that men and women rolled on the floor, which was wet with wine and covered with flowers and pieces of broken pitchers.
The prince was the soberest among them. He was not on the floor, he was sitting in an armchair, holding on his knees two beautiful dancers, one of whom was giving him wine, while the other was pouring strong perfumes on his head.
At this moment an adjutant entered the hall, and, stepping over a number of guests lying prostrate, hurried up to Ramses.
"Worthy lord," said he, "the holy Mefres and the holy Mentezufis wish to speak at once with thee."
The viceroy pushed the girls away, and with red face, stained garments, and tottering steps went to his chamber in the upper story. At sight of him Mefres and Mentezufis looked at each other.
"What do ye wish, worthy fathers?" asked the prince, dropping into an armchair.
"I do not know whether Thou wilt be able to hear us," answered the anxious Mentezufis.
"Ah! do ye think that I am tipsy?" cried the prince. "Have no fear. Today all Egypt is either so mad or so stupid that most sense is found among drinkers."
The priests frowned, but Mentezufis began,
"Thou knowest, worthiness, that our lord and the supreme council determined to disband twenty thousand mercenary warriors?"
"Well, if I do not know?" said the heir. "Ye have not deigned to ask my advice in a question so difficult to determine, ye have not even thought it worth while to inform me that four regiments are disbanded, and that those men, because of hunger, are attacking our cities."
"It seems to me, worthiness, that Thou art criticizing the commands of his holiness the pharaoh," interrupted Mentezufis.
"Not of his holiness!" cried the prince, stamping, "but of those traitors who, taking advantage of the sickness of my father, wish to sell Egypt to Assyrians and Libyans."
The priests were astounded. No Egyptian had ever used words of that kind.
"Permit, prince, that we return in a couple of hours, when Thou shalt have calmed thyself," said Mefres.
"There is no need of that. I know what is happening on our western boundary. Or rather it is not I who know, but my cooks, stable-boys, and laundrymen. Perhaps then ye will have the goodness, worthy fathers, to communicate your plans to me."
Mentezufis assumed a look of indifference, and said,
"The Libyans have rebelled and are collecting bands with the intention of attacking Egypt."
"I understand."
"At the desire, therefore, of his holiness," continued Mentezufis, "and of the supreme council, Thou art to take troops from Lower Egypt and annihilate the rebels."
"Where is the order?"
Mentezufis drew forth from his bosom a parchment provided with seals, and gave it to the viceroy.
"From this moment then I command, and am the supreme power in this province," said the viceroy.
"It is as Thou hast said."
"And I have the right to hold a military council with you?"
"Of course," replied Mefres. "Even this moment
"Sit down," interrupted the prince.
Both priests obeyed his command.
"I ask because in view of my plans I must know why the Libyan regiments were disbanded."
"Others too will be disbanded," caught up Mentezufis. "The supreme council desires to disband twenty thousand of the most expensive warriors, so that the treasury of his holiness may save four thousand talents yearly, without which want may soon threaten the court of the pharaoh."
"A thing which does not threaten the most wretched of Egyptian priests," added Ramses.
"Thou forgettest, worthiness, that it is not proper to call a priest wretched," replied Mentezufis. "And if want threatens none of them, the merit is found in their moderate style of living."
"In that case the statues drink the wine which is carried every day to the temples, while stone gods dress their wives in gold and jewels," jeered Ramses. "But no more about your abstemiousness. Not to fill the treasury of the pharaoh has the council of priests disbanded twenty thousand troops and opened the gates of Egypt to bandits."
"But why?"
"This is why: to please King Assar. And since his holiness would not agree to give Phoenicia to Assyria, ye wish to weaken the state in another way, by disbanding hired troops and rousing war on our western boundary."
"I take the gods to witness that Thou dost astonish us, worthiness," cried Mentezufis.
"The shades of the pharaohs would be more astonished if they heard that in this same Egypt in which the power of the pharaoh is hampered, some Chaldean trickster is influencing the fate of the nation."
"I do not believe my own ears," replied Mentezufis. "What dost Thou say of some Chaldean?"
The viceroy laughed sneeringly.
"I speak of Beroes. If thou, holy man, hast not heard of him, ask the revered Mefres, and if he has forgotten turn then to Herhor and Pentuer."
"That is a great secret of our temples
"A foreign adventurer came like a thief to Egypt, and put on the members of the supreme council a treaty so shameful that we should be justified in signing it only after we had lost battles, lost all our regiments and both capitals. And to think that this was done by one man, most assuredly a spy of King Assar! And our sages let themselves be so charmed by his eloquence, that, when the pharaoh would not let them give up Phoenicia, they disbanded regiments in every case, and caused war on our western boundary. Have we ever heard of a deed like this?" continued Ramses, no longer master of himself. "When it was just the time to raise the army to three hundred thousand and hurry on to Nineveh, those pious maniacs discharged twenty thousand men and fired their own dwelling-house."
Mefres, still and pale, listened to these jeers. At last he said,
"I know not, worthy lord, from what source Thou hast taken thy information. May it be as pure as the hearts of the highest counselors! But let us suppose that Thou art right, that some Chaldean priest had power to bring the council to sign a burdensome treaty with Assyria. If it happened thus, whence knowest Thou that that priest was not an envoy of the gods, who through his lips forewarned us of dangers hanging over Egypt?"
"How do the Chaldeans enjoy your confidence to such a degree?" asked the viceroy.
"The Chaldean priests are elder brothers of the Egyptians," interrupted
Mentezufis.
"Then perhaps the Assyrian king is the master of the pharaoh?"
"Blaspheme not, worthiness," said Mefres, severely. "Thou art pushing into the most sacred things frivolously, and to do that has proved perilous to men who were greater than Thou art."
"Well, I will not do so. But how is a man to know that one Chaldean is an envoy of the gods, and another a spy of King Assar?"
"By miracles," answered Mefres. "If, at thy command, prince, this room should fill with spirits, if unseen powers were to bear thee in the air, we should know that Thou wert an agent of the immortals, and should respect thy counsel."
Ramses shrugged his shoulders. "I, too, have seen spirits: a young girl made them. And I saw a juggler lying in the air in the amphitheatre."
"But Thou didst not see the fine strings which his four assistants had in their teeth," put in Mentezufis.
The prince laughed again, and, remembering what Tutmosis had told him about the devotions of Mefres, he said in a jeering tone,
"In the days of Cheops a certain high priest wished absolutely to fly through the air. With this object he prayed to the gods, and commanded his inferiors to see whether unseen powers were not raising him. And what will ye say, holy fathers? From that time forth there was no day when prophets did not assure the high priest that he was borne in the air, not very high, it is true, about a finger from the pavement."
"But what is that to thy power, worthiness?" inquired he of Mefres, suddenly.
"The high priest, when he heard his own story, shook in the chair, and would have fallen had not Mentezufis supported him."
Ramses bustled about, gave the old man water to drink, rubbed vinegar on his temples and forehead, and fanned him.
Soon the holy Mefres recovered, rose from the chair, and said to
Mentezufis,
"May we not go now?"
"I think so."
"But what am I to do?" asked the prince, feeling that something evil had happened.
"Accomplish the duties of leader," said Mentezufis, coldly.