Chapter 33

A COUPLE of days later Ramses sent his favorite with a summons to Kama. She appeared soon in a tightly closed litter.

Ramses received her in a separate chamber.

"I was," said he, "outside thy house one evening."

"Oh, Astaroth!" cried the priestess. "To what must I attribute this high favor? And what hindered thee, worthy lord, from deigning to summon thy slave?"

"Some beasts were there, Assyrians, I suppose."

"Then Thou didst take the trouble, worthiness, in the evening? Never could I have dared to suppose that our ruler was under the open sky, a few steps from me."

The prince blushed. How she would be astounded could she know that he had passed ten evenings near her windows!

But perhaps she knew it, judging by her half-smiling lips and her eyes cast down deceitfully.

"So, then, Kama," said the prince, "Thou receivest Assyrians at thy villa?"

"That man is a great magnate, Sargon, a relative of King Assar," answered Kama; "he has brought five talents to our goddess."

"And them wilt repay him, Kama?" jeered the heir. "And since he is such a bountiful magnate, the Phoenician gods will not send thee death in punishment."

"What dost Thou say, lord?" exclaimed Kama, clasping her hands. "Dost Thou not know that if an Asiatic found me in the desert he would not lay hands on me, even were I myself to yield to him? They fear the gods."

"Why, then, does he come to thee, this malodorous no this pious Asiatic?"

"Because he wants to persuade me to go to the temple of Astaroth in Babylon."

"And wilt Thou go?"

"I will go if Thou command me, lord," said Kama, concealing her face with her veil.

The prince took her hands in silence. His lips quivered.

"Do not touch me, lord," whispered she, with emotion. "Thou art my sovereign, my support, the support of all Phoenicians in this country but have compassion."

The viceroy let her go, and walked up and down through the chamber.

"The day is hot, is it not?" asked he. "There are countries where in the month of Mechir white down falls from the sky, it is said; this down in the fire turns to water, and makes the air cold. Oh, Kama, beg thy gods to send me a little of that down, though what do I say? If they should cover Egypt with it, all that down might be turned into water and not cool the heart in me."

"For Thou art like the divine Amon; Thou art the sun concealed in human form," replied Kama. "Darkness flees from that place whither Thou turnest thy countenance, and under the gleam of thy glances flowers blossom."

The prince turned again to her.

"But be compassionate," whispered she. "Moreover, Thou art a kind god, hence Thou canst not be unjust to thy priestess."

The prince turned away again, and shook as if wishing to cast down a burden. Kama looked from beneath her drooping lids at him, and smiled slightly.

When silence had endured too long, she said,

"Thou hast commanded to summon me, Sovereign. Here I am, to hear what thy will is."

"Aha!" said the prince, recovering. "But tell me, O, priestess, aha! who was that who resembled me so closely, the man whom I saw that night in the temple?"

Kama placed a finger on her lips.

"A sacred mystery," whispered she.

"One thing is a mystery, another is not permitted," replied Ramses. "Let me know at least whether it was a man or a spirit?"

"A spirit."

"But still that spirit sang under thy window."

Kama laughed.

"I do not wish to violate the secrets of the temple."

"Thou hast promised that to Prince Hiram," put in the priestess.

"Well, well," interrupted the irritated viceroy; "for this cause I shall not speak with Hiram or any other man about this miracle, only with thee. Now, Kama, tell this spirit or man who is so like me to leave Egypt at the earliest, and not to show himself to any one. For, seest thou, in no state can there be two heirs to the throne."

All at once he tapped his forehead. Up to that instant he had spoken so as to trouble Kama, but now an idea altogether serious came to him.

"I am curious," said he, looking sharply at Kama, "to know why thy compatriots showed me my own living picture. Do they wish to forewarn me that they have a man to supplant me? Indeed, their act is astounding."

Kama fell at his feet.

"O lord!" whispered she, "Thou who bearest on thy breast our highest talisman, canst Thou suppose that the Phoenicians would do aught to injure thee? But only think if danger threatened thee, or if Thou hadst the wish to mystify enemies, would not such a man be of service? The Phoenician only wished to show thee this in the temple."

The prince meditated a moment, and shrugged his shoulders.

"So," thought he, "if I needed any one's assistance! But do the Phoenicians think that I need assistance? If I do they have chosen a poor protector."

"Lord!" whispered Kama, "is it not known to thee that Ramses the Great had, in addition to his own person, two others to show enemies? Those two shadows of the pharaoh perished, but he survived."

"Well, enough of this," interrupted the prince. "But that the people of Asia may know that I am gracious, I designate Kama five talents for games, in honor of Astaroth, and a costly goblet for her temple. This gift will be received today by thee."

He dismissed the priestess with a motion of his head.

After her departure a new wave of thought mastered him.

"Indeed, the Phoenicians are clever. If this, my living picture, is a man, they can make of him a great present to me, and I shall perform at times miracles such, perhaps, as have never been heard of in Egypt. The pharaoh dwells in Memphis, and at the same time he shows himself in Thebes or in Tanis. The pharaoh is marching on Babylon with an army, the Assyrians assemble their main forces there, and simultaneously the pharaoh, with another army, captures Nineveh, I judge that the Assyrians would be greatly astounded by an event of that sort."

And again deep hatred was roused in him against the strong Asiatics; again he saw his conquering chariot sweeping over a battlefield covered with Assyrian corpses, and whole baskets of severed hands stood before him.

For his soul war had become now as great a need as bread is for the body. For not only could he enrich Egypt by it, fill the treasury, and win glory to last through ages, but, besides, he might satisfy the instinct hitherto unknown, but roused mightily at that moment, to destroy Assyria.

Until he had seen those warriors with shaggy beards he had not thought of them. That day they had met him and made the world seem so small that one side must give way, r they or he.

What role had Hiram and Kama played in creating his present frame of mind? Of this he had made no estimate. He felt only that he must have war with Assyria, just as a bird of passage feels that in the mouth Pachons it must go northward.

A passion for war seized the prince quickly. He spoke less, laughed more rarely, sat in thoughtfulness at feasts, and also spent his time oftener and oftener with the army and the aristocracy. Seeing the favor which the heir showered on those who bore arms, the noble youth, and even older men, began to join regiments. This attracted the attention of the holy Mentezufis, who sent a letter to Herhor with the following contents:

"From the time that the Assyrians have arrived at Pi-Bast the heir is feverish, and his court is inclined toward war very greatly. They drink and play dice as before; but all have thrown aside robes and wigs, and, disregarding the awful heat, go about in military caps and mantles.

"I fear lest this armed readiness may offend the worthy Sargon."

To this Herhor replied immediately,

"It is no harm that our effeminate nobles have taken a love for military appearance during the visit of Sargon, for the Assyrians will have a better opinion touching Egypt. Our most worthy viceroy, enlightened by the gods, as is evident, has divined that just now it is necessary to rattle our swords when we have with us the ambassadors of such a military people. I am certain that this valiant bearing of our youth will give Sargon something to think of, and will make him more yielding in arguments."

For the first time since Egypt had become Egypt it happened that a youthful prince had deceived the watchful priesthood. It is true that the Phoenicians were behind him, and had stolen the secret of the treaty with Assyria; of this the priests had not even a suspicion.

In fact, the very best mask which the heir had against suspicion was his impetuosity of character. All remembered how easily in the past year he had rushed from maneuvers at Pi-Bailos to Sarah's quiet country villa, and how from feasts he had grown impassioned, recently, for administrative labor, and then devotion, to return to feasts afterward.

So no one believed, with the exception of Tutmosis, that that changeful youth had before him an object for which he would fight with invincible decision.

Even this time there was no need to wait long for new proofs of the prince's mobility of temper.

To Pi-Bast, in spite of the heat, came Sarah with all her court and her infant. She was somewhat thin, her child a trifle ill, or wearied, but both looked very charming.

The prince was enchanted. He assigned a house to Sarah in the choicest part of the palace garden, and sat whole days, almost, at his son's cradle.

Feasts, maneuvers, and gloomy meditations were forgotten; the lords of his suite had to drink and amuse themselves without him. Very soon they ungirded their swords and arrayed themselves in their most exquisite garments. The change was the more indispensable as Ramses brought some of them to Sarah's dwelling and showed his son to them.

"See, Tutmosis," said he once to his favorite, "what a pretty child: a real rose leaf! Well, and out of this little thing a man will grow gradually. And this rosy chick will walk about some day, talk, even learn wisdom in the schools of the priesthood."

"Look at his little hands, Tutmosis," said Ramses, delighted. "Remember these little hands, so as to tell of them some day when I give him a regiment, and command him to have my mace borne behind him. And this is my son, my own son."

It is not to be wondered at that when their lord spoke thus his attendants were sorry that they could not become dry or wet nurses to the child which, though it had no dynastic rights, was still the first son of the future pharaoh.

But this idyll ended very soon, since it did not harmonize with the interests of the Phoenicians.

A certain day the worthy Hiram arrived at the palace with a great suite of merchants, slaves, and also poor Egyptians to whom he gave alms, and when he stood before the heir, he said,

"Our gracious lord! to prove that thy heart is full of kindness toward us Asiatics also, Thou hast given five talents to arrange games in honor of the goddess Astaroth. Thy will is accomplished; we have arranged the games, now we have come to implore thee to deign to honor the games with thy presence."

While saying this, the gray-haired Tyrian prince knelt before Ramses and gave him a golden key to his box in the amphitheatre.

Ramses accepted the invitation willingly; the holy priests Mefres and Mentezufis had no objection to the presence of the prince in honoring the goddess Astaroth.

"First of all, Astaroth," said the worthy Mefres to Mentezufis, "is the same as our Is is and the Chaldean Istar; second, if we permit Asiatics to build temples in our land it is proper to be kindly to their gods at seasons."

"We are obliged even to show some politeness to Phoenicians after the conclusion of such a treaty with Assyria," put in the worthy Mentezufis, smiling.

The amphitheatre, to which the viceroy, the nomarch, and the foremost officers betook themselves about four in the afternoon was built in the garden of the temple. It was a circular space surrounded by a palisade twice the height of a man. Inside the palisade, and round about, was a multitude of boxes and seats rising one above the other. The structure had no roof, but above the boxes extended cloth of various colors, cut like wings of butterflies, which, sprinkled with fragrant water, were moved to cool the atmosphere.

When the viceroy appeared in his box, the Asiatics and Egyptians present in the amphitheatre gave forth a mighty shout. The spectacle began with a procession of singers, dancers, and musicians.

The prince looked around. At his right was the box of Hiram and the most noted of the Phoenicians; on his left the box of the Phoenician priests and priestesses. In this Kama occupied one among the first places, and attracted notice by her splendid dress and by her beauty. She wore a transparent robe adorned with embroidery of various colors, gold bracelets and anklets, and on her head a circlet with a lotus flower composed most skillfully of jewels.

Kama came with her colleagues, saluted the prince with low obeisances, and returned to the box on the left, where began an animated conversation with a foreigner whose hair was somewhat gray and whose presence was imposing. The hair and beard of this man and his companions were plaited into small braids.

The prince had come almost directly from the chamber of his son, and was gladsome. But he frowned when he saw the priestess speaking with a stranger.

"Dost Thou not know, Tutmosis, who that big fellow is for whom the priestess is so charming?" asked he.

"He is that famous pilgrim who has come from Babylon, the worthy Sargon."

"But he is an old grandfather!"

"His years are surely more than thine and mine together; but he is a stately person."

"Could such a barbarian be stately!" said the indignant viceroy. "I am certain that he bears about the smell of tallow."

Both were silent: the prince from anger, Tutmosis from fear because he had dared to praise a man whom Ramses hated.

Meanwhile spectacle followed spectacle on the arena. In turn appeared acrobats, serpent-charmers, dancers, buffoons, and jesters, who called forth shouts from the audience.

But Ramses was gloomy. In his soul sprang up, moment after moment, passions which had been dormant, hatred for Assyrians and jealousy of Kama.

"How can that woman," thought he, "fondle up to an old man who has a complexion like tanned leather, wild black eyes, and the beard of a he- goat?"

But once the prince turned a more attentive look on the arena.

A number of naked Chaldeans entered. The oldest fixed in the earth three short spears, points upward; then, with motions of his hands, he put the youngest man to sleep. After that others took the sleeping man and placed him on the spears in such fashion that one of the spears supported his head, another his loins, and the third his feet.

The man was as stiff as wood. Then the old man made motions above him with his hands, and drew out the spear supporting his feet. After a while he removed the spear on which his loins were resting, and finally that on which his head was fixed.

This took place in the clear day, before some thousands of spectators. The sleeping Chaldean rested in the air horizontally, without support, a couple of ells above the earth. At last the old man pushed him down and roused him.

The audience was astounded; no one dared to applaud or to shout, but flowers were thrown from some boxes.

Ramses too was astonished. He bent towards Hiram's box, and asked the old prince in a low voice,

"Could they perform that secret in the temple of Astaroth?"

"I am not conversant with all the secrets of our priests," answered Hiram, confused. "I know, though, that Chaldeans are very clever."

"But we all saw that that young man rested in the air."

"If they did not put a spell on us," said Hiram, reluctantly; and he grew serious.

After a short interval, during which servitors took to the boxes of dignitaries fresh flowers, cool wine and cakes, the most important part of the spectacle began, the bull fight.

To the sound of trumpets, drums, and flutes they led a strong bull into the arena, with a cloth over his head so that he should not see. Then a number of naked men ran around with darts, and one with a short sword.

At a signal, given by the prince, the leaders ran away, and one of the armed men struck the cloth from the head of the bull. The beast stood some moments in a maze; then he chased after the dart man, who vexed him by pricking.

This barren struggle continued some tens of minutes. Men tormented the bull, and he, foaming, stained with blood, reared and chased over the whole arena after his enemies without reaching any.

At last he fell, amid the laughter of the spectators.

The wearied prince, instead of looking at the arena, looked at the box of the Phoenician priests. He saw that Kama had moved nearer to Sargon and was conversing vivaciously. The Assyrian devoured her with his glances; she smiled and blushed, whispered with him, sometimes bending so that her hair touched the locks of the barbarian; sometimes she turned from him and feigned anger.

Ramses felt pain in his heart. For the first time it had happened that a woman had preferred another man to him; besides, a man who was almost old, and, moreover, an Assyrian.

Meanwhile a murmur rose in the audience. On the arena a man armed with a sword gave command to tie his left hand to his breast; others looked at their darts a second bull was let in. When an armed man tore the cloth from his eyes, the bull turned and looked around as if to count his opponents. But when they began to prick him, he withdrew to the paling to secure the rear; then he lowered his head and followed the movements of those attacking.

At first the armed men stole up guardedly from both sides to prick him. But when the beast remained motionless, they gained courage, and began to run across in front, nearer and nearer.

The bull inclined his head still more, but stood as if fixed to the earth. The audience laughed; but their joyousness was turned to a cry of fear suddenly. The bull chose the moment, rushed forward, struck some man who held a dart, and with one motion of his horns hurled him upward.

The man struck the earth with broken bones; the bull galloped to the other side of the arena and stood in a defensive position.

The men with darts surrounded the bull again, and began to irritate the animal; but now servants of the amphitheatre rushed to the arena to carry off the wounded man, who was groaning. The bull, in spite of the redoubled pricks of darts, stood motionless; but when three servants had taken the wounded man in their arms, he rushed at that group with the swiftness of a whirlwind, overturned it, and began to dig the ground with his forefeet tremendously.

There was confusion in the audience: women screamed, men imprecated, and hurled at the bull whatever each one found nearest. Sticks, knives, even bench tops fell on the arena. Then a man with a sword rushed at the raging bull. But the dart men lost their heads and left him unsupported; hence the bull tossed him and pursued the others. A thing unparalleled in amphitheatres took place then: five men were lying on the arena; others, defending themselves badly, were fleeing before the beast, while the audience was roaring from fear or from anger.

Next there was perfect silence; the spectators rose and bent forward out of their places, the terrified Hiram grew pale and crossed his hands. Down to the arena, from the boxes of dignitaries, sprang two men, Prince Ramses, with a drawn sword, and Sargon, with a short- handled axe.

The bull, with head down and tail in the air, was racing around the arena, leaving clouds of dust behind him. The beast rushed straight toward the prince, but, as if repulsed by the majesty of the youth, avoided him, made directly at Sargon, and dropped to the earth. The Assyrian, adroit and immensely strong, stretched him with one blow of his axe, given between the eyes.

The audience howled with delight, and threw flowers at Sargon and his victim. Ramses stood still with drawn sword, astonished and angry, seeing how Kama snatched flowers from her neighbors and threw them to the Assyrian.

Sargon received expressions of public delight with indifference. He pushed the bull with his foot to be sure that the beast was lifeless; and then, going a couple of steps toward the prince, said something in his own speech, and bowed with the dignity of a magnate.

A bloody mist passed before the prince's eyes; he would have buried his sword in the victor's breast gladly. But he conquered himself, thought a moment, and taking a gold chain from his neck gave it to Sargon.

The Assyrian bowed again, kissed the chain, and put it around his neck. But the prince, with a bluish flush on his cheeks, returned to the door by which actors entered the arena, and amid plaudits of the audience left the amphitheatre with a feeling of deep humiliation.