Uarda : a Romance of Ancient Egypt — Complete by Georg Ebers (find a book to read txt) 📕

No circumstance in nature remained unobserved by the priestly guides of the Egyptian people. Every phenomenon on earth or in the starry heavens was greeted by them as the manifestation of a divinity, and they surrounded the life of the inhabitants of the Nile-valley—from morning to evening—from the beginning of the inundation to the days of drought—with a web of chants and sacrifices, of processions and festivals, which inseparably knit the human individual to the Divinity and its earthly representatives the priesthood.

For many minutes the lord and his servants remained on their knees in silence, their eyes fixed on the sacred star, and listening to the pious chant of the priests.

As it died away Paaker rose. All around him still lay on the earth; only one naked figure, strongly lighted by the clear moonlight, stood motionless by a pillar near the slaves’ quarters.

The pioneer gave a sign, the attendants rose; but Paaker went with hasty steps to the man who had disdained the act of devotion, which he had so earnestly performed, and cried:

“Steward, a hundred strokes on the soles of the feet of this scoffer.”

The officer thus addressed bowed and said: “My lord, the surgeon commanded the mat-weaver not to move and he cannot lift his arm. He is suffering great pain. Thou didst break his collar-bone yesterday.

“It served him right!” said Paaker, raising his voice so much that the injured man could not fail to hear it. Then he turned his back upon him, and entered the garden; here he called the chief butler, and said: “Give the slaves beer for their night draught—to all of them, and plenty.”

A few minutes later he stood before his mother, whom he found on the roof of the house, which was decorated with leafy plants, just as she gave her two-years’-old grand daughter, the child of her youngest son, into the arms of her nurse, that she might take her to bed.

Paaker greeted the worthy matron with reverence. She was a woman of a friendly, homely aspect; several little dogs were fawning at her feet. Her son put aside the leaping favorites of the widow, whom they amused through many long hours of loneliness, and turned to take the child in his arms from those of the attendant. But the little one struggled with such loud cries, and could not be pacified, that Paaker set it down on the ground, and involuntarily exclaimed:

“The naughty little thing!”

“She has been sweet and good the whole afternoon,” said his mother Setchem. “She sees you so seldom.”

“May be,” replied Paaker; “still I know this—the dogs love me, but no child will come to me.”

“You have such hard hands.”

“Take the squalling brat away,” said Paaker to the nurse. “Mother, I want to speak to you.”

Setchem quieted the child, gave it many kisses, and sent it to bed; then she went up to her son, stroked his cheeks, and said:

“If the little one were your own, she would go to you at once, and teach you that a child is the greatest blessing which the Gods bestow on us mortals.” Paaker smiled and said: “I know what you are aiming at—but leave it for the present, for I have something important to communicate to you.”

“Well?” asked Setchem.

“To-day for the first time since—you know when, I have spoken to Nefert. The past may be forgotten. You long for your sister; go to her, I have nothing more to say against it.”

Setchem looked at her son with undisguised astonishment; her eyes which easily filled with tears, now overflowed, and she hesitatingly asked: “Can I believe my ears; child, have you?—”

“I have a wish,” said Paaker firmly, “that you should knit once more the old ties of affection with your relations; the estrangement has lasted long enough.”

“Much too long!” cried Setchem.

The pioneer looked in silence at the ground, and obeyed his mother’s sign to sit down beside her.

“I knew,” she said, taking his hand, “that this day would bring us joy; for I dreamt of your father in Osiris, and when I was being carried to the temple, I was met, first by a white cow, and then by a wedding procession. The white ram of Anion, too, touched the wheat-cakes that I offered him.”—[It boded death to Germanicus when the Apis refused to eat out of his hand.]

“Those are lucky presages,” said Paaker in a tone of conviction.

“And let us hasten to seize with gratitude that which the Gods set before us,” cried Setchem with joyful emotion. “I will go to-morrow to my sister and tell her that we shall live together in our old affection, and share both good and evil; we are both of the same race, and I know that, as order and cleanliness preserve a house from ruin and rejoice the stranger, so nothing but unity can keep up the happiness of the family and its appearance before people. What is bygone is bygone, and let it be forgotten. There are many women in Thebes besides Nefert, and a hundred nobles in the land would esteem themselves happy to win you for a son-in-law.”

Paaker rose, and began thoughtfully pacing the broad space, while Setchem went on speaking.

“I know,” she said, “that I have touched a wound in thy heart; but it is already closing, and it will heal when you are happier even than the charioteer Mena, and need no longer hate him. Nefert is good, but she is delicate and not clever, and scarcely equal to the management of so large a household as ours. Ere long I too shall be wrapped in mummy-cloths, and then if duty calls you into Syria some prudent housewife must take my place. It is no small matter. Your grandfather Assa often would say that a house well-conducted in every detail was a mark of a family owning an unspotted name, and living with wise liberality and secure solidity, in which each had his assigned place, his allotted duty to fulfil, and his fixed rights to demand. How often have I prayed to the Hathors that they may send you a wife after my own heart.”

“A Setchem I shall never find!” said Paaker kissing his mother’s forehead, “women of your sort are dying out.”

“Flatterer!” laughed Setchem, shaking her finger at her son. But it is true. Those who are now growing up dress and smarten themselves with stuffs from Kaft,—[Phoenicia]—mix their language with Syrian words, and leave the steward and housekeeper free when they themselves ought to command. Even my sister Katuti, and Nefert—

“Nefert is different from other women,” interrupted Paaker, “and if you had brought her up she would know how to manage a house as well as how to ornament it.”

Setchem looked at her son in surprise; then she said, half to herself: “Yes, yes, she is a sweet child; it is impossible for any one to be angry with her who looks into her eyes. And yet I was cruel to her because you were hurt by