An Egyptian Princess, Volume 10.

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AN EGYPTIAN PRINCESS, Part 2.

By Georg Ebers

Volume 10.

CHAPTER XIII.

The waters of the Nile had begun to rise again. Two months had passed
away since Phanes' disappearance, and much had happened.

The very day on which he left Egypt, Sappho had given birth to a girl,
and had so far regained strength since then under the care of her
grandmother, as to be able to join in an excursion up the Nile, which
Croesus had suggested should take place on the festival of the goddess
Neith. Since the departure of Phanes, Cambyses' behavior had become so
intolerable, that Bartja, with the permission of his brother, had taken
Sappho to live in the royal palace at Memphis, in order to escape any
painful collision. Rhodopis, at whose house Croesus and his son, Bartja,
Darius and Zopyrus were constant guests, had agreed to join the party.

On the morning of the festival-day they started in a gorgeously decorated
boat, from a point between thirty and forty miles below Memphis, favored
by a good north-wind and urged rapidly forward by a large number of
rowers.

A wooden roof or canopy, gilded and brightly painted, sheltered them from
the sun. Croesus sat by Rhodopis, Theopompus the Milesian lay at her
feet. Sappho was leaning against Bartja. Syloson, the brother of
Polykrates, had made himself a comfortable resting-place next to Darius,
who was looking thought fully into the water. Gyges and Zopyrus busied
themselves in making wreaths for the women, from the flowers handed them
by an Egyptian slave.

"It seems hardly possible," said Bartja, "that we can be rowing against
the stream. The boat flies like a swallow."

"This fresh north-wind brings us forward," answered Theopompus. "And
then the Egyptian boatmen understand their work splendidly."

"And row all the better just because we are sailing against the stream,"
added Croesus. "Resistance always brings out a man's best powers."

"Yes," said Rhodopis, "sometimes we even make difficulties, if the river
of life seems too smooth."

"True," answered Darius. "A noble mind can never swim with the stream.
In quiet inactivity all men are equal. We must be seen fighting, to be
rightly estimated."

"Such noble-minded champions must be very cautious, though," said
Rhodopis, "lest they become contentious, and quarrelsome. Do you see
those melons lying on the black soil yonder, like golden balls? Not one
would have come to perfection if the sower had been too lavish with his
seed. The fruit would have been choked by too luxuriant tendrils and
leaves. Man is born to struggle and to work, but in this, as in
everything else, he must know how to be moderate if his efforts are to
succeed. The art of true wisdom is to keep within limits."

"Oh, if Cambyses could only hear you!" exclaimed Croesus. "Instead of
being contented with his immense conquests, and now thinking for the
welfare of his subjects, he has all sorts of distant plans in his head.
He wishes to conquer the entire world, and yet, since Phanes left,
scarcely a day has passed in which he has not been conquered himself by
the Div of drunkenness."

"Has his mother no influence over him?" asked Rhodopis. "She is a noble
woman."

"She could not even move his resolution to marry Atossa, and was forced
to be present at the marriage feast."

"Poor Atossa!" murmured Sappho.

"She does not pass a very happy life as Queen of Persia," answered
Croesus; "and her own naturally impetuous disposition makes it all the
more difficult or her to live contentedly with this husband and mother;
I am sorry to hear it said that Cambyses neglects her sadly, and treats
her like a child. But the marriage does not seem to have astonished the
Egyptians, as brothers and sisters often marry here."

"In Persia too," said Darius, putting on an appearance of the most
perfect composure, "marriages with very near relations are thought to be
the best."

"But to return to the king," said Croesus, turning the conversation for
Darius' sake. "I can assure you, Rhodopis, that he may really be called
a noble man. His violent and hasty deeds are repented of almost as soon
as committed, and the resolution to be a just and merciful ruler has
never forsaken him. At supper, for instance, lately, before his mind was
clouded by the influence of wine, he asked us what the Persians thought
of him in comparison with his father."

"And what was the answer?" said Rhodopis. "Intaphernes got us out of
the trap cleverly enough," answered Zopyrus, laughing. "He exclaimed:
'We are of opinion that you deserve the preference, inasmuch as you have
not only preserved intact the inheritance bequeathed you by Cyrus, but
have extended his dominion beyond the seas by your conquest of Egypt.'
This answer did not seem to please the king, however, and poor
Intaphernes was not a little horrified to hear him strike his fist
on the table and cry, 'Flatterer, miserable flatterer!' He then turned
to Croesus and asked his opinion. Our wise friend answered at once:
'My opinion is that you have not attained to the greatness of your
father; for,' added he in a pacifying tone, 'one thing is wanting to you
--a son such as Cyrus bequeathed us in yourself."

"First-rate, first-rate," cried Rhodopis clapping her hands and laughing.
"An answer that would have done honor to the ready-witted Odysseus
himself. And how did the king take your honeyed pill?"

"He was very much pleased, thanked Croesus, and called him his friend."

"And I," said Croesus taking up the conversation, "used the favorable
opportunity to dissuade him from the campaigns he has been planning
against the long lived Ethiopians, the Ammonians and the Carthaginians.
Of the first of these three nations we know scarcely anything but through
fabulous tales; by attacking them we should lose much and gain little.
The oasis of Ammon is scarcely accessible to a large army, on account of
the desert by which it is surrounded; besides which, it seems to me
sacrilegious to make war upon a god in the hope of obtaining possession
of his treasures, whether we be his worshippers or not. As to the
Carthaginians, facts have already justified my predictions. Our fleet is
manned principally by Syrians and Phoenicians, and they have, as might be
expected, refused to go to war against their brethren. Cambyses laughed
at my reasons, and ended by swearing, when he was already somewhat
intoxicated, that he could carry out difficult undertakings and subdue
powerful nations, even without the help of Bartja and Phanes."

"What could that allusion to you mean, my son?" asked Rhodopis.

"He won the battle of Pelusiam," cried Zopyrus, before his friend could
answer. "He and no one else!"

"Yes," added Croesus, "and you might have been more prudent, and have
remembered that it is a dangerous thing to excite the jealousy of a man
like Cambyses. You all of you forget that his heart is sore, and that
the slightest vexation pains him. He has lost the woman he really loved;
his dearest friend is gone; and now you want to disparage the last thing
in this world that he still cares for,--his military glory."

"Don't blame him," said Bartja, grasping the old man's hand. "My brother
has never been unjust, and is far from envying me what I must call my
good fortune, for that my attack arrived just at the right time can
hardly be reckoned as a merit on my part. You know he gave me this
splendid sabre, a hundred thorough-bred horses, and a golden hand-mill
as rewards of my bravery."

Croesus' words had caused Sappho a little anxiety at first; but this
vanished on hearing her husband speak so confidently, and by the time
Zopyrus had finished his wreath and placed it on Rhodopis' head, all her
fears were forgotten.

Gyges had prepared his for the young mother. It was made of snow-white
water-lilies, and, when she placed it among her brown curls, she looked
so wonderfully lovely in the simple ornament, that Bartja could not help
kissing her on the forehead, though so many witnesses were present. This
little episode gave a merry turn to the conversation; every one did his
best to enliven the others, refreshments of all kinds were handed round,
and even Darius lost his gravity for a time and joined in the jests that
were passing among his friends.

When the sun had set, the slaves set elegantly-carved chairs, footstools,
and little tables on the open part of the deck. Our cheerful party now
repaired thither and beheld a sight so marvellously beautiful as to be
quite beyond their expectations.

The feast of Neith, called in Egyptian "the lampburning," was celebrated
by a universal illumination, which began at the rising of the moon. The
shores of the Nile looked like two long lines of fire. Every temple,
house and but was ornamented with lamps according to the means of its
possessors. The porches of the country-houses and the little towers on
the larger buildings were all lighted up by brilliant flames, burning in
pans of pitch and sending up clouds of smoke, in which the flags and
pennons waved gently backwards and forwards. The palm-trees and
sycamores were silvered by the moonlight and threw strange fantastic
reflections on the red waters of the Nile-red from the fiery glow of the
houses on their shores. But strong and glowing as was the light of the
illumination, its rays had not power to reach the middle of the giant
river, where the boat was making its course, and the pleasure-party felt
as if they were sailing in dark night between two brilliant days. Now
and then a brightly-lighted boat would come swiftly across the river and
seem, as it neared the shore, to be cutting its way through a glowing
stream of molten iron.

Lotus-blossoms, white as snow, lay on the surface of the river, rising
and falling with the waves, and looking like eyes in the water. Not a
sound could be heard from either shore. The echoes were carried away by
the north-wind, and the measured stroke of the oars and monotonous song
of the rowers were the only sounds that broke the stillness of this
strange night--a night robbed of its darkness.

For a long time the friends gazed without speaking at the wonderful
sight, which seemed to glide past them. Zopyrus was the first to break
the silence by saying, as he drew a long breath: "I really envy you,
Bartja. If things were as they should be, every one of us would have his
dearest wife at his side on such a night as this."

"And who forbade you to bring one of your wives?" answered the happy
husband.

"The other five," said the youth with a sigh. "If I had allowed Oroetes'
little daughter Parysatis, my youngest favorite, to come out alone with
me to-night, this wonderful sight would have been my last; tomorrow there
would have been one pair of eyes less in the world."

Bartja took Sappho's hand and held it fast, saying, "I fancy one wife
will content me as long as I live." The young mother pressed his hand
warmly again, and said, turning to Zopyrus: "I don't quite trust you, my
friend. It seems to me that it is not the anger of your wives you fear,
so much as the commission of an offence against the customs of your
country. I have been told that my poor Bartja gets terribly scolded in
the women's apartments for not setting eunuchs to watch over me, and for
letting me share his pleasures."

"He does spoil you terribly," answered Zopyrus, "and our wives are
beginning to quote him as an example of kindness and indulgence, whenever
we try to hold the reins a little tight. Indeed there will soon be a
regular women's mutiny at the king's gate, and the Achaemenidae who
escaped the swords and arrows of the Egyptians, will fall victims to
sharp tongues and floods of salt tears."

"Oh! you most impolite Persian!" said Syloson laughing. "We must make
you more respectful to these images of Aphrodite."

"You Greeks! that's a good idea," answered the youth. "By Mithras, our
wives are quite as well off as yours. It's only the Egyptian women, that
are so wonderfully free."

"Yes, you are quite right," said Rhodopis. "The inhabitants of this
strange land have for thousands of years granted our weaker sex the same
rights, that they demand for themselves. Indeed, in many respects, they
have given us the preference. For instance, by the Egyptian law it is
the daughters, not the sons, who are commanded to foster and provide for
their aged parents, showing how well the fathers of this now humbled
people understood women's nature, and how rightly they acknowledged that
she far surpasses man in thoughtful solicitude and self-forgetful love.
Do not laugh at these worshippers of animals. I confess that I cannot
understand them, but I feel true admiration for a people in the teaching
of whose priests, even Pythagoras, that great master in the art of
knowledge, assured me lies a wisdom as mighty as the Pyramids."

"And your great master was right," exclaimed Darius. "You know that I
obtained Neithotep's freedom, and, for some weeks past, have seen him and
Onuphis very constantly, indeed they have been teaching me. And oh, how
much I have learnt already from those two old men, of which I had no idea
before! How much that is sad I can forget, when I am listening to them!
They are acquainted with the entire history of the heavens and the earth.
They know the name of every king, and the circumstances of every
important event that has occurred during the last four thousand years,
the courses of the stars, the works of their own artists and sayings of
their sages, during the same immense period of time. All this knowledge
is recorded in huge books, which have been preserved in a palace at
Thebes, called the "place of healing for the soul. Their laws are a
fountain of pure wisdom, and a comprehensive intellect has been shown in
the adaptation of all their state institutions to the needs of the
country. I wish we could boast of the same regularity and order at home.
The idea that lies at the root of all their knowledge is the use of
numbers, the only means by which it is possible to calculate the course
of the stars, to ascertain and determine the limits of all that exists,
and, by the application of which in the shortening and lengthening of the
strings of musical instruments, tones can be regulated.

[We agree with Iamblichus in supposing, that these Pythagorean views
were derived from the Egyptian mysteries.]

"Numbers are the only certain things; they can neither be controlled nor
perverted. Every nation has its own ideas of right and wrong; every law
can be rendered invalid by circumstances; but the results obtained from
numbers can never be overthrown. Who can dispute, for instance, that
twice two make four? Numbers determine the contents of every existing
thing; whatever is, is equal to its contents, numbers therefore are the
true being, the essence of all that is."

"In the name of Mithras, Darius, do leave off talking in that style,
unless you want to turn my brain," interrupted Zopyrus. "Why, to hear
you, one would fancy you'd been spending your life among these old
Egyptian speculators and had never had a sword in your hand. What on
earth have we to do with numbers?"

"More than you fancy," answered Rhodopis. "This theory of numbers
belongs to the mysteries of the Egyptian priests, and Pythagoras learnt
it from the very Onuphis who is now teaching you, Darius. If you will
come to see me soon, I will show you how wonderfully that great Samian
brought the laws of numbers and of the harmonies into agreement. But
look, there are the Pyramids!"

The whole party rose at these words, and stood speechless, gazing at the
grand sight which opened before them.

The Pyramids lay on the left bank of the Nile, in the silver moonshine,
massive and awful, as if bruising the earth beneath them with their
weight; the giant graves of mighty rulers. They seemed examples of man's
creative power, and at the same time warnings of the vanity and
mutability of earthly greatness. For where was Chufu now,--the king who
had cemented that mountain of stone with the sweat of his subjects?
Where was the long-lived Chafra who had despised the gods, and, defiant
in the consciousness of his own strength, was said to have closed the
gates of the temples in order to make himself and his name immortal by
building a tomb of superhuman dimensions?

[Herodotus repeats, in good faith, that the builders of the great
Pyramids were despisers of the gods. The tombs of their faithful
subjects at the foot of these huge structures prove, however, that
they owe their bad repute to the hatred of the people, who could not
forget the era of their hardest bondage, and branded the memories of
their oppressors wherever an opportunity could be found. We might
use the word "tradition" instead of "the people," for this it is
which puts the feeling and tone of mind of the multitude into the
form of history.]

Their empty sarcophagi are perhaps tokens, that the judges of the dead
found them unworthy of rest in the grave, unworthy of the resurrection,
whereas the builder of the third and most beautiful pyramid, Menkera, who
contented himself with a smaller monument, and reopened the gates of the
temples, was allowed to rest in peace in his coffin of blue basalt.

There they lay in the quiet night, these mighty pyramids, shone on by the
bright stars, guarded by the watchman of the desert--the gigantic
sphinx,--and overlooking the barren rocks of the Libyan stony mountains.
At their feet, in beautifully-ornamented tombs, slept the mummies of
their faithful subjects, and opposite the monument of the pious Menkera
stood a temple, where prayers were said by the priests for the souls of
the many dead buried in the great Memphian city of the dead. In the
west, where the sun went down behind the Libyan mountains, where the
fruitful land ended and the desert began--there the people of Memphis had
buried their dead; and as our gay party looked towards the west they felt
awed into a solemn silence.

But their boat sped on before the north-wind; they left the city of the
dead behind them and passed the enormous dikes built to protect the city
of Menes from the violence of the floods; the city of the Pharaohs came
in sight, dazzlingly bright with the myriads of flames which had been
kindled in honor of the goddess Neith, and when at last the gigantic
temple of Ptah appeared, the most ancient building of the most ancient
land, the spell broke, their tongues were loosed, and they burst out into
loud exclamations of delight.

It was illuminated by thousands of lamps; a hundred fires burnt on its
Pylons, its battlemented walls and roofs. Burning torches flared between
the rows of sphinxes which connected the various gates with the main
building, and the now empty house of the god Apis was so surrounded by
colored fires that it gleamed like a white limestone rock in a tropical
sunset. Pennons, flags and garlands waved above the brilliant picture;
music and loud songs could be heard from below.

"Glorious," cried Rhodopis in enthusiasm, "glorious! Look how the
painted walls and columns gleam in the light, and what marvellous figures
the shadows of the obelisks and sphinxes throw on the smooth yellow
pavement!"

"And how mysterious the sacred grove looks yonder!" added Croesus. "I
never saw anything so wonderful before."

"I have seen something more wonderful still," said Darius. "You will
hardly believe me when I tell you that I have witnessed a celebration of
the mysteries of Neith."

"Tell us what you saw, tell us!" was the universal outcry.

"At first Neithotep refused me admission, but when I promised to remain
hidden, and besides, to obtain the freedom of his child, he led me up to
his observatory, from which there is a very extensive view, and told me
that I should see a representation of the fates of Osiris and his wife
Isis.

"He had scarcely left, when the sacred grove became so brightly
illuminated by colored lights that I was able to see into its innermost
depths.

"A lake, smooth as glass, lay before me, surrounded by beautiful trees
and flower-beds. Golden boats were sailing on this lake and in them sat
lovely boys and girls dressed in snow-white garments, and singing sweet
songs as they passed over the water. There were no rowers to direct
these boats, and yet they moved over the ripples of the lake in a
graceful order, as if guided by some magic unseen hand. A large ship
sailed in the midst of this little fleet. Its deck glittered with
precious stones. It seemed to be steered by one beautiful boy only, and,
strange to say, the rudder he guided consisted of one white lotusflower,
the delicate leaves of which seemed scarcely to touch the water. A very
lovely woman, dressed like a queen, lay on silken cushions in the middle
of the vessel; by her side sat a man of larger stature than that of
ordinary mortals. He wore a crown of ivy on his flowing curls, a
panther-skin hung over his shoulders and he held a crooked staff in the
right hand. In the back part of the ship was a roof made of ivy, lotus-
blossoms and roses; beneath it stood a milk-white cow with golden horns,
covered with a cloth of purple. The man was Osiris, the woman Isis, the
boy at the helm their son Horus, and the cow was the animal sacred to the
immortal Isis. The little boats all skimmed over the water, singing glad
songs of joy as they passed by the ship, and receiving in return showers
of flowers and fruits, thrown down upon the lovely singers by the god and
goddess within. Suddenly I heard the roll of thunder. It came crashing
on, louder, and louder, and in the midst of this awful sound a man in the
skin of a wild boar, with hideous features and bristling red hair, came
out of the gloomiest part of the sacred grove, plunged into the lake,
followed by seventy creatures like himself, and swam up to the ship of
Osiris.

[We have taken our description of this spectacle entirely from the
Osiris-myth, as we find it in Plutarch, Isis and Orisis 13-19.
Diod. I. 22. and a thousand times repeated on the monuments. Horus
is called "the avenger of his father," &c. We copy the battle with
all its phases from an inscription at Edfu, interpreted by Naville.]

"The little boats fled with the swiftness of the wind, and the trembling
boy helmsman dropped his lotusblossom.

"The dreadful monster then rushed on Osiris, and, with the help of his
comrades, killed him, threw the body into a coffin and the coffin into
the lake, the waters of which seemed to carry it away as if by magic.
Isis meanwhile had escaped to land in one of the small boats, and was now
running hither and thither on the shores of the lake, with streaming
hair, lamenting her dead husband and followed by the virgins who had
escaped with her. Their songs and dances, while seeking the body of
Osiris, were strangely plaintive and touching, and the girls accompanied
the dance by waving black Byssus scarfs in wonderfully graceful curves.
Neither were the youths idle; they busied themselves in making a costly
coffin for the vanished corpse of the god, accompanying their work with
dances and the sound of castanets. When this was finished they joined
the maidens in the train of the lamenting Isis and wandered on the shore
with them, singing and searching.

"Suddenly a low song rose from some invisible lips. It swelled louder
and louder and announced, that the body of the god had been transported
by the currents of the Mediterranean to Gebal in distant Phoenicia. This
singing voice thrilled to my very heart; Neithotep's son, who was my
companion, called it 'the wind of rumor.'

"When Isis heard the glad news, she threw off her mourning garments and
sang a song of triumphant rejoicing, accompanied by the voices of her
beautiful followers. Rumor had not lied; the goddess really found the
sarcophagus and the dead body of her husband on the northern shore of the
lake.

[It is natural, that Isis should find the body of her husband in the
north. The connection between Phoenicia and Egypt in this myth, as
it has been handed down to us by Plutarch, is very remarkable. We
consider the explanation of the close affinity between the Isis and
Osiris and the Adonis myths to be in the fact, that Egyptians and
Phoenicians lived together on the shores of the Delta where the
latter had planted their colonies. Plutarch's story of the finding
of Osiris' dead body is very charming. Isis and Osiris. Ed. Parth.
15.]

"They brought both to land with dances; Isis threw herself on the beloved
corpse, called on the name of Osiris and covered the mummy with kisses,
while the youths wove a wonderful tomb of lotus-flowers and ivy.

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