Chapter 38

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.