PHARAOH SEEKS TO EXALT A FOREIGN GOD
Pharoah stirred.
At once two ebony black Nubians recommenced to wave their ostrich-feather
fans above his restless head.
Again did Shamash, an Asiatic eunuch, hold to his master’s nose a small
glass phial of somnific poppy-oil.
Once again did Bekit, his little daughter, chafe with fragrant sandal oil
his fleshless ankles.
All in vain! Pharaoh’s frame failed to relax.
Suddenly, with an impatient gesture, Pharaoh pushed aside the ivory
head-rest and summoned Dedu, Keeper of the Royal Linen.
The rebuffed, but smiling Bekit, held to her father’s lips a blue glazed
goblet filled to its lotiform brim with sparkling Thinite wine. As he
drank, the swaying forms of Ata and Mai, youngest of the court dancers,
rose from the floor beyond him. Barely had they assumed a single graceful
posture before the gold seal-ring upon Pharaoh’s hand flashed in the
semi-gloom. He waved them impatiently aside.
Entering softly, Dedu, Keeper of the Royal Linen, carefully drew back
the curtains from the windows. These green byssus draperies had served
to keep out the brilliant rays of the sun, as reflected from Queen Thi’s
“pleasure lake,” on the northern shore of which Perao, the royal palace,
stood.
Thus, one might admire the charming decoration of the room, with its
green tiled walls, its cedar columns, its elaborately designed ceiling,
and its painted stucco floor covered with powdered lazuli and gold dust.
In answer to a hasty motion on the part of his silent master, Dedu
commenced to bind him in the long, flaring-skirted gala robes of the
day, things of wonder for the seemingly innumerable ramifications of
their softly rippling white pleats. A gem-encrusted belt of ruddy Nubian
gold was clasped about his slender waist, a girdle broad in the back and
tapering towards the front, where a fiercely charging oryx, carved from
a solid block of Babylonian lazuli, served to conceal the mechanism of
the clasp. The restless monarch’s feet were bound in soft gazelle-hide
sandals, sandals dyed a rich rose-pink, gilded and turned up at the toe.
Over a padded linen skull-cap was set the royal warbonnet, a magnificent
dome-shaped headdress of a brilliant sky blue. From the center of
this regal head-covering, and immediately above the monarch’s low and
unnaturally retreating forehead, the red jasper eyes of two golden asps
glittered like spots of hidden fire, as they quivered upon flexible wires
with every movement of the impatient monarch.
In public, the vain and indolent monarchs who had followed Thothmes,
Conqueror of Asia, had ever affected the Warbonnet above all other
headdresses. At sight of its bright blue inlays the discreet and
sycophantic courtiers invariably burst into vociferous applause; the
soldiers, with howls of delight, broke into stirring war-dances. With
the people at large it was hailed with delight. To them it symbolized
Imperial Egypt, an Egypt to which tribute arrived from Nubia to the
“great bend” of the distant Euphrates. Thus, policy had dictated the
Linen Keeper’s choice, for the fiction of Pharaoh as world-conqueror
_must_ be maintained.
Deftly the fawning Dedu encircled Pharaoh’s emaciated arms and wrists
with jeweled bands, his hollow chest with the _wesekh_, a broad, flat
band of jewels composed of alternate strands of varicolored stones. The
tender green of Nubian emerald, the soft rose of native carnelian, the
violet or rich purple of Asiatic amethyst and the several red tones of
translucent sard and banded agate, were intensified as much by Pharaoh’s
swarthy countenance as by the pure white linen tunic over which they were
spread.
Finally, the scepter of gold, banded with deep red sardonyx, was placed
in Pharaoh’s nervously twitching hand, and Akhten-aton, “Terror of
Asia,” shuffled to the door, where his ivory carrying-chair, his sixteen
priestly bearers, his sun-shade and fan-bearers, and his pet lion,
awaited him.
With the inevitable prayer for “health and long life” upon their lips,
one and all saluted the god-king by raising their right hands and
crooking their lean backs in the obsequious Syrian mode, but recently
introduced.
In the columned forecourt of the Great Hall, the stentorian voice of the
Court Herald warned of Pharaoh’s approach and Akhten-aton, Son of the
Sun-god, Lord of the Two Lands, Ruler of Rulers, Bull that Goreth Bulls,
gave the looked-for signal that should start the forward movement of that
great procession which would usher him into the Double Audience Hall with
all the dignity of a ruler, whose sway, nominally at least, extended from
the further confines of Nubia to the Great River of Mitanni.
Soon, no one but Wozer, Keeper of the Gates, his spearmen and the cooks
and butlers, remained within the palace walls. It was with a sigh of
satisfaction that Wozer heard the ever-receding tones of the chanting
prophets and priestesses of the temple who headed the procession.
As Ptah the Cellarer rolled heavily by, Wozer made a gesture expressive
at once of thirst and a good game. Thereafter, Ptah and he forgot, for a
time, that there was a gate to watch or fragrant jars of wine to seal.
Skull-cap to headcloth, both lost themselves in a high-staked game of
draughts!
The Great Double Hall to which Pharaoh had been conducted consisted of a
long, high nave. On either side this gigantic lotus-columned nave stood
smaller aisles. Both nave and aisles were bathed in the subdued light
which filtered through pierced alabaster gratings.
The dimly seen roof was composed of huge flat slabs of sandstone painted
blue, and dotted with myriads of little gold stars. The bulging shafts
of the columns which supported it—gigantic pillars covered from capital
to base with brilliantly colored representations of Egypt’s host of
deities—glowed in the shimmering light with a thousand prismatic colors.
The floor was of beaten gold, its high walls a glitter of yellow tiles
inlaid with varicolored paste hieroglyphs. These seemingly unending lines
of inscription extolled the late Pharaoh for gifts which he had given,
perforce, to the temples, or lauded him for certain imaginary deeds of
prowess performed in unknown campaigns in Nubia and Asia.
At the upper end of the hall, raised upon a low dais, stood the throne of
Egypt, the “golden throne of Horus.” As was fitting, its curved arms were
supported by the bent backs of pinioned Nubians and Asiatics.
To the right, and immediately overlooking the royal dais, was a balcony
reserved for Noferith, the Queen; for Thi, the all-powerful Queen-Mother,
and for a few favored ladies of their suites. This balcony, at the
moment, was hung with rich embroideries.
In front of Pharaoh’s throne stood painted cedar vase-stands, from whose
blue-glazed jars drooped sprays of feathery acacia, sweet-scented mimosa
and nodding papyrus. To the left, high upon a lotus-festooned stand,
stood a huge oryx-handled bowl of solid gold, part of the Asiatic spoil
of Pharaoh’s warlike ancestor Thothmes, the conqueror of Asia. From its
fitfully glowing interior rose a thin blue line of aromatic incense,
which broke and spread in gray, semi-transparent rings as it touched the
gold stars which dimly flashed amidst the deep blue of its lofty ceiling.
The herald’s announcement of the approach of Pharaoh stopped for a
moment the sibilant whispers of the ladies, as the court nobles, a
line of white-robed figures, ranged themselves about the dais in
order of precedence. Soon after, to the acclaiming shouts of the
multitude, Akhten-aton, himself, appeared. Assisted by Shamash and the
ever-attentive Dedu, Pharaoh slowly seated himself upon the throne of his
ancestors.
Following a motion from his long thin hand, an usher threw wide the
cedar doors at the end of the hall and, standing upon its granite
threshold, cried to the vast concourse of restless figures now visible in
the court:
“Long live Pharaoh, our Lord!
“Millions of millions of years to him, even so long as the sun endureth!”
With a roar the accustomed royal salutation was taken up:
“Life, health, abundance and fullness of joy be to Pharaoh, our Lord,
forever and forever!”
The crowd of petty nobles, counts, monarchs and captains now pressed
forward. With heads bent, spines arched, right hands raised, slowly and
reverently they ranged themselves about the lower end of the hall. Were
it possible, the forms of these white-robed newcomers flashed with the
glitter of well-nigh as many jewels and gold or silver orders as did
those of the more exalted nobles gathered about Pharaoh’s throne.
Those who were unable, for lack of space, to gain access to the hall, had
perforce, to stand outside in the unprotected court and exposed to the
blinding shafts of the vaulting sun. Yet, few complained, so momentous
was the step now contemplated by the fanatical young Pharaoh.
Anticipation and, it may well have been fear of the result, explained the
unusual sternness of expression visible upon the faces of all present, a
tension seldom seen upon the faces of this pleasure-loving people.
For weeks past the Theban capital, nay, Egypt itself, had been a seething
maelstrom of riotous priests, mutinous soldiery, and piteously clamorous
slaves and petty farmers.
With the speed of a hungry jackal the news had spread that Pharaoh had at
last determined upon the final break with the priests of Amen in Karnak.
Pharaoh’s keen interest in the Syrian cult of Thi, his mother, was well
known. The new Sun cult already had a certain following, at least among
the nobles of the court. At this very moment many members of the nobility
had recently bound themselves to support their royal master in the
revolutionary step he now contemplated.
It is true that the more exalted members of Pharaoh’s court still
continued their visits to the great temple of Amen in Karnak. But the
nasal intonation of Ameni, the ibis-nosed lector, had of late merely
served to amuse them. As to Pharaoh, himself, the over-powering reek of
incense, flowers, fresh-baked bread, and blood, did but sicken him. The
glitter in the silver eyes of a host of granite statues, ancestors of
his, _ka_-figures of a long line of loyal and devout followers of Amen,
both unnerved and repelled him.
From his golden throne Pharaoh’s prominent eyes swept the oil-coned heads
of his subjects. One and all were dressed, be-jeweled and anointed as for
a gala day. Their loyal shouts of welcome had warmed his heart. At the
same time, their enthusiasm seemed to give him the necessary strength for
his momentous task.
No sooner was he seated, and the jeweled scepter placed upon a stand at
his side, than the nobles on his right, ever the most exalted, pressed
about him. Some prostrated themselves before him; some kissed the pointed
tip of his gilded sandal, while others, in this case the aged members of
his court or blood relations, embraced the pleated skirt that tightly
bound his knees.
Suddenly Pharaoh signaled that he would hear no more, and immediately,
with a wave of his scepter, rose to his feet.
At once, as if by magic, whisperings ceased. No one so much as breathed.
Such a hush fell upon that crowded hall that one could hear without the
shrill cries of the quarrelsome hawks, that flew in circles back and
forth from the eaves of the roof.
As one, that vast audience sank to its knees. As one, it broke into the
stirring shout of welcome:
“Hail, Life-giver! Hail, Electrum of Kings! Hail, Thou who art the very
breath of our nostrils! Life, health and peace be thine, so long as Ra
endures!”
Then again the same expectant hush fell upon that shimmering hall.
Pharaoh raised his hand. His soft, but resonant voice filled the long
hall:
“My children! We have summoned you before us that you may hear the words
of Pharaoh, which change not! For centuries past hath Egypt been a jest
in the mouths of strangers who cried:
“These be the sons of the Egyptians that have raised to themselves
more gods than they have days in which to worship them.’ Had we not
been hindered by the priests of Amen yonder, long ago, yea, even in
our fathers’ time, this reproach had been removed from amongst us!
Henceforth, my children, cease to cry upon the Triads; upon Amen, Mut,
and Khonsu; upon Horus, Set and Ausar!
“As you all know, the gods of Thebes, of On, of white-walled Memphis, are
but attributes of the one beneficent sun-god, of Aton the Glorious, the
Life-giver, who dwelleth within the Sun!
“Henceforth, let Aton, not Amen, be upon your lips! Let Aton, not Amen,
be upon the lips of your children! Thus, as in times past, Egypt shall
worship one god from Nubia to Suan of the North. May Aton’s bright beams
embrace you! May Aton’s rays forever enfold you!”
Across the flashing waters of the Nile, where the great temple of Karnak
raised its giant pylons high above the palm groves which fronted it,
Huy, Great High Priest of Amen, frowned darkly as the sound of the loud
applause which followed Pharaoh’s speech, reached his ears.
To Huy and the prophets of Amen that sound heralded the beginning of a
war to the death.
But Enana, the Magician, did but smile.