As Nemu, on his way back from his visit to Ani, approached his
mistress’s house, he was detained by a boy, who desired him to follow
him to the stranger’s quarter. Seeing him hesitate, the messenger showed
him the ring of his mother Hekt, who had come into the town on business,
and wanted to speak with him.
Nemu was tired, for he was not accustomed to walking; his ass was dead,
and Katuti could not afford to give him another. Half of Mena’s beasts
had been sold, and the remainder barely sufficed for the field-labor.
At the corners of the busiest streets, and on the market-places, stood
boys with asses which they hired out for a small sum;
[In the streets of modern Egyptian towns asses stand saddled for
hire. On the monuments only foreigners are represented as riding on
asses, but these beasts are mentioned in almost every list of the
possessions of the nobles, even in very early times, and the number
is often considerable. There is a picture extant of a rich old man
who rides on a seat supported on the backs of two donkeys. Lepsius,
Denkmaler, part ii. 126.]
but Nemu had parted with his last money for a garment and a new wig, so
that he might appear worthily attired before the Regent. In former times
his pocket had never been empty, for Mena had thrown him many a ring of
silver, or even of gold, but his restless and ambitious spirit wasted no
regrets on lost luxuries. He remembered those years of superfluity with
contempt, and as he puffed and panted on his way through the dust, he
felt himself swell with satisfaction.
The Regent had admitted him to a private interview, and the little man
had soon succeeded in riveting his attention; Ani had laughed till the
tears rolled down his cheeks at Nemu’s description of Paaker’s wild
passion, and he had proved himself in earnest over the dwarf’s further
communications, and had met his demands half-way. Nemu felt like a duck
hatched on dry land, and put for the first time into water; like a bird
hatched in a cage, and that for the first time is allowed to spread its
wings and fly. He would have swum or have flown willingly to death if
circumstances had not set a limit to his zeal and energy.
Bathed in sweat and coated with dust, he at last reached the gay tent
in the stranger’s quarter, where the sorceress Hekt was accustomed to
alight when she came over to Thebes.
He was considering far-reaching projects, dreaming of possibilities,
devising subtle plans--rejecting them as too subtle, and supplying
their place with others more feasible and less dangerous; altogether
the little diplomatist had no mind for the motley tribes which here
surrounded him. He had passed the temple in which the people of Kaft
adored their goddess Astarte, and the sanctuary of Seth, where they
sacrificed to Baal, without letting himself be disturbed by the dancing
devotees or the noise of cymbals and music which issued from their
enclosures. The tents and slightly-built wooden houses of the dancing
girls did not tempt him. Besides their inhabitants, who in the evening
tricked themselves out in tinsel finery to lure the youth of Thebes into
extravagance and folly, and spent their days in sleeping till sun-down,
only the gambling booths drove a brisk business; and the guard of police
had much trouble to restrain the soldier, who had staked and lost all
his prize money, or the sailor, who thought himself cheated, from such
outbreaks of rage and despair as must end in bloodshed. Drunken men
lay in front of the taverns, and others were doing their utmost, by
repeatedly draining their beakers, to follow their example.
Nothing was yet to be seen of the various musicians, jugglers,
fire-eaters, serpent-charmers, and conjurers, who in the evening
displayed their skill in this part of the town, which at all times had
the aspect of a never ceasing fair. But these delights, which Nemu had
passed a thousand times, had never had any temptation for him. Women and
gambling were not to his taste; that which could be had simply for the
taking, without trouble or exertion, offered no charms to his fancy,
he had no fear of the ridicule of the dancing-women, and their
associates--indeed, he occasionally sought them, for he enjoyed a war
of words, and he was of opinion that no one in Thebes could beat him at
having the last word. Other people, indeed, shared this opinion, and not
long before Paaker’s steward had said of Nemu:
“Our tongues are cudgels, but the little one’s is a dagger.”
The destination of the dwarf was a very large and gaudy tent, not in any
way distinguished from a dozen others in its neighborhood. The opening
which led into it was wide, but at present closed by a hanging of coarse
stuff.
Nemu squeezed himself in between the edge of the tent and the yielding
door, and found himself in an almost circular tent with many angles, and
with its cone-shaped roof supported on a pole by way of a pillar.
Pieces of shabby carpet lay on the dusty soil that was the floor of the
tent, and on these squatted some gaily-clad girls, whom an old woman was
busily engaged in dressing. She painted the finger and toenails of
the fair ones with orange-colored Hennah, blackened their brows and
eye-lashes with Mestem--[Antimony.]--to give brilliancy to their glance,
painted their cheeks with white and red, and anointed their hair with
scented oil.
It was very hot in the tent, and not one of the girls spoke a word; they
sat perfectly still before the old woman, and did not stir a finger,
excepting now and then to take up one of the porous clay pitchers, which
stood on the ground, for a draught of water, or to put a pill of Kyphi
between their painted lips.
Various musical instruments leaned against the walls of the tent,
hand-drums, pipes and lutes and four tambourines lay on the ground; on
the vellum of one slept a cat, whose graceful kittens played with the
bells in the hoop of another.
An old negro-woman went in and out of the little back-door of the tent,
pursued by flies and gnats, while she cleared away a variety of earthen
dishes with the remains of food--pomegranate-peelings, breadcrumbs, and
garlic-tops--which had been lying on one of the carpets for some hours
since the girls had finished their dinner.
Old Hekt sat apart from the girls on a painted trunk, and she was
saying, as she took a parcel from her wallet:
“Here, take this incense, and burn six seeds of it, and the vermin will
all disappear--” she pointed to the flies that swarmed round the platter
in her hand. “If you like I will drive away the mice too and draw the
snakes out of their holes better than the priests.”
[Recipes for exterminating noxious creatures are found in the
papyrus in my possession.]
“Keep your magic to yourself,” said a girl in a husky voice. “Since
you muttered your words over me, and gave me that drink to make me grow
slight and lissom again, I have been shaken to pieces with a cough at
night, and turn faint when I am dancing.”
“But look how slender you have grown,” answered Hekt, “and your cough
will soon be well.”
“When I am dead,” whispered the girl to the old woman. “I know that most
of us end so.”
The witch shrugged her shoulders, and perceiving the dwarf she rose from
her seat.
The girls too noticed the little man, and set up the indescribable cry,
something like the cackle of hens, which is peculiar to Eastern women
when something tickles their fancy. Nemu was well known to them, for his
mother always stayed in their tent whenever she came to Thebes, and the
gayest of them cried out:
“You are grown, little man, since the last time you were here.”
“So are you,” said the dwarf sharply; “but only as far as big words are
concerned.”
“And you are as wicked as you are small,” retorted the girl.
“Then my wickedness is small too,” said the dwarf laughing, “for I am
little enough! Good morning, girls--may Besa help your beauty. Good day,
mother--you sent for me?”
The old woman nodded; the dwarf perched himself on the chest beside her,
and they began to whisper together.
“How dusty and tired you are,” said Hekt. I do believe you have come on
foot in the burning sun.”
“My ass is dead,” replied Nemu, “and I have no money to hire a steed.”
“A foretaste of future splendor,” said the old woman with a sneer. “What
have you succeeded in doing?”
“Paaker has saved us,” replied Nemu, “and I have just come from a long
interview with the Regent.”
“Well?”
“He will renew your letter of freedom, if you will put Paaker into his
power.”
“Good-good. I wish he would make up his mind to come and seek me--in
disguise, of course--I would--”
“He is very timid, and it would not suggest to him anything so
unpracticable.”
“Hm--” said Hekt, “perhaps you are right, for when we have to demand a
good deal it is best only to ask for what is feasible. One rash request
often altogether spoils the patron’s inclination for granting favors.”
“What else has occurred?”
“The Regent’s army has conquered the Ethiopians, and is coming home with
rich spoils.”
“People may be bought with treasure,” muttered the old woman, “I
good--good!”
“Paaker’s sword is sharpened; I would give no more for my master’s life,
than I have in my pocket--and you know why I came on foot through the
dust.”
“Well, you can ride home again,” replied his mother, giving the little
man a small silver ring. “Has the pioneer seen Nefert again?”
“Strange things have happened,” said the dwarf, and he told his
mother what had taken place between Katuti and Nefert. Nemu was a good
listener, and had not forgotten a word of what he had heard.
The old woman listened to his story with the most eager attention.
“Well, well,” she muttered, “here is another extraordinary thing. What
is common to all men is generally disgustingly similar in the palace
and in the hovel. Mothers are everywhere she-apes, who with pleasure let
themselves be tormented to death by their children, who repay them badly
enough, and the wives generally open their ears wide if any one can tell
them of some misbehavior of their husbands! But that is not the way with
your mistress.”
The old woman looked thoughtful, and then she continued:
“In point of fact this can be easily explained, and is not at all more
extraordinary than it is that those tired girls should sit yawning. You
told me once that it was a pretty sight to see the mother and daughter
side by side in their chariot when they go to a festival or the
Panegyrai; Katuti, you said, took care that the colors of their dresses
and the flowers in their hair should harmonize. For which of them is the
dress first chosen on such occasions?”
“Always for the lady Katuti, who never wears any but certain colors,”
replied Nemu quickly.
“You see,” said the witch laughing, “Indeed it must be so. That mother
always thinks of herself first, and of the objects she wishes to gain;
but they hang high, and she treads down everything that is in her
way--even her own child--to reach them. She will contrive that Paaker
shall be the ruin of Mena, as sure as I have ears to hear with, for
that woman is capable of playing any tricks with her daughter, and would
marry her to that lame dog yonder if it would advance her ambitious
schemes.”
“But Nefert!” said Nemu. “You should have seen her. The dove became a
lioness.”
“Because she loves Mena as much as her mother loves herself,” answered
Hekt. “As the poets say, ‘she is full of him.’ It is really true of her,
there is no room for any thing else. She cares for one only, and woe to
those who come between him and her!”
“I have seen other women in love,” said Nemu, “but--”
“But,” exclaimed the old witch with such a sharp laugh that the girls
all looked up, “they behaved differently to Nefert--I believe you, for
there is not one in a thousand that loves as she does. It is a sickness
that gives raging pain--like a poisoned arrow in an open wound, and
devours all that is near it like a fire-brand, and is harder to cure
than the disease which is killing that coughing wench. To be possessed
by that demon of anguish is to suffer the torture of the damned--or
else,” and her voice sank to softness, “to be more blest than the Gods,
happy as they are. I know--I know it all; for I was once one of the
possessed, one of a thousand, and even now--”
“Well?” asked the dwarf.
“Folly!” muttered the witch, stretching herself as if awaking from
sleep. “Madness! He--is long since dead, and if he were not it would be
all the same to me. All men are alike, and Mena will be like the rest.”
“But Paaker surely is governed by the demon you describe?” asked the
dwarf.
“May be,” replied his mother; “but he is self-willed to madness. He
would simply give his life for the thing because it is denied him. If
your mistress Nefert were his, perhaps he might be easier; but what is
the use of chattering? I must go over to the gold tent, where everyone
goes now who has any money in their purse, to speak to the mistress--”
“What do you want with her?” interrupted Nemu. “Little Uarda over
there,” said the old woman, “will soon be quite well again. You have
seen her lately; is she not grown beautiful, wonderfully beautiful? Now
I shall see what the good woman will offer me if I take Uarda to her?
the girl is as light-footed as a gazelle, and with good training would
learn to dance in a very few weeks.”
Nemu turned perfectly white.
“That you shall not do,” said he positively.
“And why not?” asked the old woman, “if it pays well.”
“Because I forbid it,” said the dwarf in a choked voice.
“Bless me,” laughed the woman; “you want to play my lady Nefert, and
expect me to take the part of her mother Katuti. But, seriously, having
seen the child again, have you any fancy for her?”
“Yes,” replied Nemu. “If we gain our end, Katuti will make me free, and
make me rich. Then I will buy Pinem’s grandchild, and take her for
my wife. I will build a house near the hall of justice, and give the
complainants and defendants private advice, like the hunch-back Sent,
who now drives through the streets in his own chariot.”
“Hm--” said his mother, “that might have done very well, but perhaps it
is too late. When the child had fever she talked about the young priest
who was sent from the House of Seti by Ameni. He is a fine tall
fellow, and took a great interest in her; he is a gardener’s son, named
Pentaur.”
“Pentaur?” said the dwarf. “Pentaur? He has the haughty air and the
expression of the old Mohar, and would be sure to rise; but they are
going to break his proud neck for him.”
“So much the better,” said the old woman. “Uarda would be just the wife
for you, she is good and steady, and no one knows--”
“What?” said Nemu.
“Who her mother was--for she was not one of us. She came here from
foreign parts, and when she died she left a trinket with strange letters
on it. We must show it to one of the prisoners of war, after you have
got her safe; perhaps they could make out the queer inscription. She
comes of a good stock, that I am certain; for Uarda is the very living
image of her mother, and as soon as she was born, she looked like the
child of a great man. You smile, you idiot! Why thousands of infants
have been in my hands, and if one was brought to me wrapped in rags I
could tell if its parents were noble or base-born. The shape of the foot
shows it--and other marks. Uarda may stay where she is, and I will help
you. If anything new occurs let me know.”