Produced by David Widger
THE BRIDE OF THE NILE
By Georg Ebers
Translated from the German by Clara Bell
PREFACE.
The “Bride of the Nile” needs no preface. For the professional student I
may observe that I have relied on the authority of de Goeje in adhering
to my own original opinion that the word Mukaukas is not to be regarded
as a name but as a title, since the Arab writers to which I have made
reference apply it to the responsible representatives of the Byzantine
Emperor in antagonism to the Moslem power. I was unfortunately unable to
make further use of Karabacek’s researches as to the Mukaukas.
I shall not be held justified in placing the ancient Horus Apollo
(Horapollo) in the seventh century after Christ by any one who
regards the author of the Hieroglyphica as identical with the Egyptian
philosopher of the same name who, according to Suidas, lived under
Theodosius, and to whom Stephanus of Byzantium refers, writing so
early as at the end of the fifth century. But the lexicographer Suidas
enumerates the works of Horapollo, the philologer and commentator
on Greek poetry, without naming the Hieroglyphica, which is the only
treatise alluded to by Stephanus. Besides, all the other ancient writers
who mention Horapollo at all leave us quite free to suppose that there
may have been two sages of the same name--as does C. Leemans, who is
most intimately versed in the Hieroglyphica--and the second certainly
cannot have lived earlier than the VIIth century, since an accurate
knowledge of hieroglyphic writing must have been lost far more
completely in his time than we can suppose possible in the IVth century.
It must be remembered that we still possess well-executed hieroglyphic
inscriptions dating from the time of Decius, 250 years after Christ.
Thus the Egyptian commentator on Greek poetry could hardly have needed a
translator, whereas the Hieroglyphica seems to have been first rendered
into Greek by Philippus. The combination by which the author called
in Egyptian Horus (the son of Isis) is supposed to have been born in
Philae, where the cultus of the Egyptian heathen was longest practised,
and where some familiarity with hieroglyphics must have been preserved
to a late date, takes into due account the real state of affairs at the
period I have selected for my story.
GEORG EBERS.
October 1st, 1886.
BOOK 1.
CHAPTER I.
Half a lustrum had elapsed since Egypt had become subject to the
youthful power of the Arabs, which had risen with such unexampled vigor
and rapidity. It had fallen an easy prey, cheaply bought, into the
hands of a small, well-captained troop of Moslem warriors; and the fair
province, which so lately had been a jewel of the Byzantine Empire and
the most faithful foster-mother to Christianity, now owned the sway of
the Khalif Omar and saw the Crescent raised by the side of the Cross.
It was long since a hotter season had afflicted the land; and the Nile,
whose rising had been watched for on the Night of Dropping--the 17th of
June--with the usual festive preparations, had cheated the hopes of the
Egyptians, and instead of rising had shrunk narrower and still narrower
in its bed.--It was in this time of sore anxiety, on the 10th of July,
A.D. 643, that a caravan from the North reached Memphis.
It was but a small one; but its appearance in the decayed and deserted
city of the Pyramids--which had grown only lengthwise, like a huge
reed-leaf, since its breadth was confined between the Nile and the
Libyan Hills--attracted the gaze of the passers-by, though in former
years a Memphite would scarcely have thought it worth while to turn his
head to gaze at an interminable pile of wagons loaded with merchandise,
an imposing train of vehicles drawn by oxen, the flashing maniples of
the imperial cavalry, or an endless procession wending its way down the
five miles of high street.
The merchant who, riding a dromedary of the choicest breed, conducted
this caravan, was a lean Moslem of mature age, robed in soft silk. A
vast turban covered his small head and cast a shadow over his delicate
and venerable features.
The Egyptian guide who rode on a brisk little ass by his side, looked
up frequently and with evident pleasure at the merchant’s face--not in
itself a handsome one with its hollow cheeks, meagre beard and large
aquiline nose--for it was lighted up by a pair of bright eyes, full
of attractive thoughtfulness and genuine kindness. But that this
fragile-looking man, in whose benevolent countenance grief and
infirmities had graven many a furrow, could not only command but compel
submission was legible alike in his thin, firmly-closed lips and in the
zeal with which his following of truculent and bearded fighting men,
armed to the teeth, obeyed his slightest sign.
His Egyptian attendant, the head of the Hermeneutai--the guild of the
Dragomans of that period--was a swarthy and surly native of Memphis;
whenever he accidentally came too close to the fierce-looking riders of
the dromedaries he shrunk his shoulders as if he expected a blow or a
push, while he poured out question and answer to the Merchant Haschim,
the owner of the caravan, without timidity and with the voluble
garrulity of his tribe.
“You seem very much at home here in Memphis,” he observed, when the old
man had expressed his surprise at the decadence and melancholy change in
the city.
“Thirty years ago,” replied the merchant, “my business often brought me
hither. How many houses are now empty and in ruins where formerly only
heavy coin could secure admittance! Ruins on all sides!--Who has so
cruelly mutilated that fine church? My fellow-believers left every
Christian fane untouched--that I know from our chief Amru himself.”
“It was the principal church of the Melchites, the Emperor’s minions,”
cried the guide, as if that were ample explanation of the fact. The
merchant, however, did not take it so.
“Well,” he said, “and what is there so dreadful in their creed?”
“What?” said the Egyptian, and his eye flashed wrathfully. “What?--They
dismember the divine person of the Saviour and attribute to it two
distinct natures. And then!--All the Greeks settled here, and encouraged
by the protection of the emperor, treated us, the owners of the land,
like slaves, till your nation came to put an end to their oppression.
They drove us by force into their churches, and every true-born Egyptian
was punished as a rebel and a leper. They mocked at us and persecuted us
for our faith in the one divine nature of our Lord.”
“And so,” interrupted the merchant, “as soon as we drove out the
Greeks you behaved more unmercifully to them and their sanctuaries than
we--whom you scorn as infidels--did to you!”
“Mercy?--for them!” cried the Egyptian indignantly, as he cast an evil
eye on the demolished edifice. “They have reaped what they sowed; and
now every one in Egypt who does not believe in your One God--blessed be
the Saviour!--confesses the one sole nature of our Lord Jesus Christ.
You drove out the Melchite rabble, and then it was our part to demolish
the temples of their wretched Saviour, who lost His divine Unity at the
synod of Chalcedon--damnation wait upon it!”
“But still the Melchites are fellow-believers with you--they are
Christians,” said the merchant.
“Christians?” echoed the guide with a contemptuous shrug. “They may
regard themselves as Christians; but I, with every one else great and
small in this land, am of opinion that they have no right whatever to
call themselves our fellow-believers and Christians. They all are
and shall be for ever accursed with their hundreds--nay thousands of
devilish heresies, by which they degrade our God and Redeemer to the
level of that idol on the stone pillar. Half a cow and half a man! Why,
what rational being, I ask you, could pray to such a mongrel thing? We
Jacobites or Monophysites or whatever they choose to call us will not
yield a jot or tittle of the divine nature of our Lord and Saviour; and
if the old faith must die out, I will turn Moslem and be converted
to your One Omnipotent God; for before I confess the heresies of the
Melchites I will be hewn in pieces, and my wife and children with me.
Who knows what may be coming to pass? And there are many advantages in
going over to your side: for the power is in your hands, and long may
you keep it! We have got to be ruled by strangers; and who would not
rather pay small tribute to the wise and healthy Khalif at Medina than
a heavy one to the sickly imperial brood of Melchites at Constantinople.
The Mukaukas George, to be sure, is not a bad sort of man, and as he so
soon gave up all idea of resisting you he was no doubt of my opinion.
Regarding you as just and pious folks, as our next neighbors, and
perhaps even of our own race and blood, he preferred you--my brother
told me so--to those Byzantine heretics, flayers of men and thirsting
for blood, but yet, the Mukaukas is as good a Christian as breathes.”
The Arab had listened attentively and with a subtle smile to the
Memphite, whose duties as guide now compelled him to break off. The
Egyptian made the whole caravan turn down an alley that led into a
street running parallel to the river, where a few fine houses still
stood in the midst of their gardens. When men and beasts were making
their way along a better pavement the merchant observed: “I knew the
father of the man you were speaking of, very well. He was wealthy
and virtuous; of his son too I hear nothing but good. But is he
still allowed to bear the title of governor, or, what did you call
him?--Mukaukas?”
“Certainly, Master,” said the guide. “There is no older family than his
in all Egypt, and if old Menas was rich the Mukaukas is richer, both
by inheritance and by his wife’s dower. Nor could we wish for a more
sensible or a juster governor! He keeps his eye on his underlings too;
still, business is not done now as briskly as formerly, for though he
is not much older than I am--and I am not yet sixty--he is always ailing
and has not been seen out of the house for months. Even when your chief
wants to see him he comes over to this side of the river. It is a pity
with such a man as he; and who was it that broke down his stalwart
strength? Why, those Melchite dogs; you may ask all along the Nile, long
as it is, who was at the bottom of any misfortune, and you will always
get the same answer: Wherever the Melchite or the Greek sets foot the
grass refuses to grow.”
“But the Mukaukas, the emperor’s representative... the Arab began. The
Egyptian broke in however:
“He, you think, must be safe from them? They did not certainly injure
his person; but they did worse, for when the Melchites rose up against
our party--it was at Alexandria, and the late Greek patriarch Cyrus
had a finger in that pie--they killed his two sons, two fine, splendid
men--killed them like dogs; and it crushed him completely.”
“Poor man!” sighed the Arab. “And has he no child left?”
“Oh, yes. One son, and the widow of his eldest. She went into a convent
after her husband’s death, but she left her child, her little Mary--she
must be ten years old now--to live with her grandparents.”
“That is well,” said the old man, “that will bring some sunshine into
the house.”
“No doubt, Master. And just lately they have had some cause for
rejoicing. The only surviving son--Orion is his name--came home only the
day before yesterday from Constantinople where he has been for a long
time. There was a to-do! Half the city went crazy. Thousands went out to
meet him, as though he were the Saviour; they erected triumphal arches,
even folks of my creed--no one thought of hanging back. One and all
wanted to see the son of the great Mukaukas, and the women of course
were first and foremost!”
“You speak, however,” said the Arab, “as though the returning hero were
not worthy of so much honor.”
“That is as folks think,” replied the Egyptian shrugging his shoulders.
“At any rate he is the only son of the greatest man in the land.”
“But he does not promise to be like the old man?”
“Oh, yes, indeed,” said the guide. “My brother, a priest, and the head
of one of our great schools, was his tutor, and he never met such a
clever head as Orion’s, he tells me. He learnt everything without any
trouble and at the same time worked as hard as a poor man’s son. We may
expect him to win fame and honor--so Marcus says--for his parents and
for the city of Memphis: but for my part, I can see the shady side, and
I tell you the women will turn his head and bring him to a bad end. He
is handsome, taller even than the old man in his best days, and he knows
how to make the most of himself when he meets a pretty face--and pretty
faces are always to be met in his path...”
“And the young rascal takes what he finds!” said the Moslem laughing.
“If that is all you are alarmed at I am glad for the youth. He is young
and such things are allowable.”
“Nay, Sir, even my brother--he lives now in Alexandria, and is blind and
foolish enough still in all that concerns his former pupil--and even
he thinks this is a dangerous rock ahead. If he does not change in this
respect he will wander further and further from the law of the Lord,
and imperil his soul, for dangers surround him on all sides like roaring
lions. The noble gifts of a handsome and engaging person will lead him
to his ruin; and though I do not desire it, I suspect....”
“You look on the dark side and judge hardly,” replied the old man. “The
young....”
“Even the young, or at least the Christian young, ought to control
themselves, though I, if any one, am inclined to make the utmost
allowance for the handsome lad--nay, and I may confess: when he smiles
at me I feel at once as if I had met with some good-luck; and there are
a thousand other men in Memphis who feel the same, and still more the
women you may be sure--but many a one has shed bitter tears on his
account for all that.--But, by all the saints!--Talk of the wolf and you
see his tail! Look, there he is!--Halt! Stop a minute, you men; it is
worth while, Sir, to tarry a moment.”
“Is that his fine quadriga in front of the high garden gate yonder?”
“Those are the Pannonian horses he brought with him, as swift as
lightning and as.... But look! Ah, now they have disappeared behind the
hedge; but you, high up on your dromedary, must be able to see them. The
little maid by his side is the widow Susannah’s daughter. This garden
and the beautiful mansion behind the trees belong to her.”
“A very handsome property!” said the Arab.
“I should think so indeed!” replied the Memphite. “The garden goes down
to the Nile, and then, what care is taken of it!”
“Was it not here that Philommon the corn-merchant lived formerly?” asked
the old man, as though some memories were coming back to him.
“To be sure. He was Susannah’s husband and must have been a man of fifty
when he first wooed her. The little girl is their only child and the
richest heiress in the whole province; but she is not altogether grown
up though she is sixteen years old--an old man’s child, you understand,
but a pretty, merry creature, a laughing dove in human form, and so
quick and lively. Her own people call her the little water-wagtail.”
“Good!--Good and very appropriate,” said the merchant well pleased. “She
is small too, a child rather than a maiden; but the graceful, gladsome
creature takes my fancy. And the governor’s son--what is his name?”
“Orion, Sir,” replied the guide.
“And by my beard,” said the old man smiling. “You have not over-praised
him, man! Such a youth as this Orion is not to be seen every day. What
a tall fellow, and how becoming are those brown curls. Such as he are
spoilt to begin with by their mothers, and then all the other women
follow suit. And he has a frank, shrewd face with something behind it.
If only he had left his purple coat and gold frippery in Constantinople!
Such finery is out of place in this dismal ruinous city.”
While he was yet speaking the Memphite urged his ass forward, but the
Arab held him back, for his attention was riveted by what was taking
place within the enclosure. He saw handsome Orion place a small white
dog, a silky creature of great beauty that evidently belonged to him--in
the little maiden’s arms saw her kiss it and then put a blade of grass
round its neck as if to measure its size. The old man watched them as,
both laughing gaily, they looked into each other’s eyes and presently
bid each other farewell. The girl stood on tiptoe in front of some rare
shrub to reach two exquisite purple flowers that blossomed at the top,
hastily plucked them and offered them to him with a deep blush; she
pushed away the hand he had put out to support her as she stretched
up for the flowers with a saucy slap; and a bright glance of happiness
lighted up her sweet face as the young man kissed the place her fingers
had hit, and then pressed the flowers to his lips. The old man looked on
with sympathetic pleasure, as though it roused the sweetest memories in
his mind; and his kind eyes shone as Orion, no less mischievously happy
than the young girl, whispered something in her ear; she drew the long
stem of grass out of her waist-belt to administer immediate and condign
punishment withal, struck it across his face, and then fled over
grass-plot and flower-bed, as swift as a roe, without heeding his
repeated shouts of “Katharina! bewitching, big damsel, Katharina!” till
she reached the house.
It was a charming little interlude. Old Haschim was still pondering it
in his memory with much satisfaction when he and his caravan had gone
some distance further. He felt obliged to Orion for this pretty scene,
and when he heard the young man’s quadriga approaching at an easy trot
behind him, he turned round to gaze. But the Arab’s face had lost its
contentment by the time the four Pannonians and the chariot, overlaid
with silver ornamentation and forming, with its driver, a picture of
rare beauty and in perfect taste, had slowly driven past, to fly on
like the wind as soon as the road was clear, and to vanish presently
in clouds of dust. There was something of melancholy in his voice as he
desired his young camel-driver to pick up the flowers, which now lay in
the dust of the road, and to bring them to him. He himself had observed
the handsome youth as, with a glance and a gesture of annoyance with
himself, he flung the innocent gift on the hot, sandy highway.
“Your brother is right,” cried the old man to the Memphite. “Women are
indeed the rock ahead in this young fellow’s life--and he in theirs, I
fear! Poor little girl!”
“The little water-wagtail do you mean? Oh! with her it may perhaps turn
to real earnest. The two mothers have settled the matter already. They
are both rolling in gold, and where doves nest doves resort.--Thank God,
the sun is low down over the Pyramids! Let your people rest at the
large inn yonder; the host is an honest man and lacks nothing, not even
shade!”
“So far as the beasts and drivers are concerned,” said the merchant,
“they may stop here. But I, and the leader of the caravan, and some of
my men will only take some refreshment, and then you must guide us to
the governor; I have to speak with him. It is growing late...”
“That does not matter,” said the Egyptian. “The Mukaukas prefers to
see strangers after sundown on such a scorching day. If you have any
dealings with him I am the very man for you. You have only to make
play with a gold piece and I can obtain you an audience at once through
Sebek, the house-steward he is my cousin. While you are resting here
I will ride on to the governor’s palace and bring you word as to how
matters stand.”