CHAPTER I

Produced by John Bickers; Dagny; Emma Dudding

CLEOPATRA

by H. Rider Haggard

DEDICATION

My dear Mother,

I have for a long while hoped to be allowed to dedicate some book

of mine to you, and now I bring you this work, because whatever its

shortcomings, and whatever judgment may be passed upon it by yourself

and others, it is yet the one I should wish you to accept.

I trust that you will receive from my romance of “Cleopatra” some such

pleasure as lightened the labour of its building up; and that it

may convey to your mind a picture, however imperfect, of the old and

mysterious Egypt in whose lost glories you are so deeply interested.

Your affectionate and dutiful Son,

H. Rider Haggard.

January 21, 1889.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

The history of the ruin of Antony and Cleopatra must have struck many

students of the records of their age as one of the most inexplicable

of tragic tales. What malign influence and secret hates were at work,

continually sapping their prosperity and blinding their judgment? Why

did Cleopatra fly at Actium, and why did Antony follow her, leaving his

fleet and army to destruction? An attempt is made in this romance to

suggest a possible answer to these and some other questions.

The reader is asked to bear in mind, however, that the story is told,

not from the modern point of view, but as from the broken heart and

with the lips of an Egyptian patriot of royal blood; no mere

beast-worshipper, but a priest instructed in the inmost mysteries, who

believed firmly in the personal existence of the gods of Khem, in the

possibility of communion with them, and in the certainty of immortal

life with its rewards and punishments; to whom also the bewildering and

often gross symbolism of the Osirian Faith was nothing but a veil woven

to obscure secrets of the Sanctuary. Whatever proportion of truth there

may have been in their spiritual claims and imaginings, if indeed there

was any, such men as the Prince Harmachis have been told of in the

annals of every great religion, and, as is shown by the testimony of

monumental and sacred inscriptions, they were not unknown among the

worshippers of the Egyptian Gods, and more especially of Isis.

Unfortunately it is scarcely possible to write a book of this nature and

period without introducing a certain amount of illustrative matter, for

by no other means can the long dead past be made to live again before

the reader’s eyes with all its accessories of faded pomp and forgotten

mystery. To such students as seek a story only, and are not interested

in the faith, ceremonies, or customs of the Mother of Religion and

Civilisation, ancient Egypt, it is, however, respectfully suggested

that they should exercise the art of skipping, and open this tale at its

Second Book.

That version of the death of Cleopatra has been preferred which

attributes her end to poison. According to Plutarch its actual manner is

very uncertain, though popular rumour ascribed it to the bite of an asp.

She seems, however, to have carried out her design under the advice

of that shadowy personage, her physician, Olympus, and it is more than

doubtful if he would have resorted to such a fantastic and uncertain

method of destroying life.

It may be mentioned that so late as the reign of Ptolemy Epiphanes,

pretenders of native blood, one of whom was named Harmachis, are known

to have advanced their claims to the throne of Egypt. Moreover, there

was a book of prophecy current among the priesthood which declared that

after the nations of the Greeks the God Harsefi would create the “chief

who is to come.” It will therefore be seen that, although it lacks

historical confirmation, the story of the great plot formed to stamp out

the dynasty of the Macedonian Lagidae and place Harmachis on the throne

is not in itself improbable. Indeed, it is possible that many such plots

were entered into by Egyptian patriots during the long ages of their

country’s bondage. But ancient history tells us little of the abortive

struggles of a fallen race.

The Chant of Isis and the Song of Cleopatra, which appear in these

pages, are done into verse from the writer’s prose by Mr. Andrew Lang,

and the dirge sung by Charmion is translated by the same hand from the

Greek of the Syrian Meleager.

CLEOPATRA

INTRODUCTION

In the recesses of the desolate Libyan mountains that lie behind the

temple and city of Abydus, the supposed burying place of the holy

Osiris, a tomb was recently discovered, among the contents of which were

the papyrus rolls whereupon this history is written. The tomb itself is

spacious, but otherwise remarkable only for the depth of the shaft which

descends vertically from the rock-hewn cave, that once served as the

mortuary chapel for the friends and relatives of the departed, to the

coffin-chamber beneath. This shaft is no less than eighty-nine feet in

depth. The chamber at its foot was found to contain three coffins only,

though it is large enough for many more. Two of these, which in all

probability inclosed the bodies of the High Priest, Amenemhat, and of

his wife, father and mother of Harmachis, the hero of this history, the

shameless Arabs who discovered them there and then broke up.

The Arabs broke the bodies up. With unhallowed hands they tore the holy

Amenemhat and the frame of her who had, as it is written, been filled

with the spirit of the Hathors--tore them limb from limb, searching for

treasure amidst their bones--perhaps, as is their custom, selling the

very bones for a few piastres to the last ignorant tourist who came

their way, seeking what he might destroy. For in Egypt the unhappy, the

living find their bread in the tombs of the great men who were before

them.

But as it chanced, some little while afterwards, one who is known to

this writer, and a doctor by profession, passed up the Nile to Abydus,

and became acquainted with the men who had done this thing. They

revealed to him the secret of the place, telling him that one coffin

yet remained entombed. It seemed to be the coffin of a poor person,

they said, and therefore, being pressed for time, they had left it

unviolated. Moved by curiosity to explore the recesses of a tomb as yet

unprofaned by tourists, my friend bribed the Arabs to show it to him.

What ensued I will give in his own words, exactly as he wrote it to me:

“I slept that night near the Temple of Seti, and started before daybreak

on the following morning. With me were a cross-eyed rascal named

Ali--Ali Baba I named him--the man from whom I got the ring which I am

sending you, and a small but choice assortment of his fellow thieves.

Within an hour after sunrise we reached the valley where the tomb is. It

is a desolate place, into which the sun pours his scorching heat all

the long day through, till the huge brown rocks which are strewn about

become so hot that one can scarcely bear to touch them, and the sand

scorches the feet. It was already too hot to walk, so we rode on

donkeys, some way up the valley--where a vulture floating far in the

blue overhead was the only other visitor--till we came to an enormous

boulder polished by centuries of action of sun and sand. Here Ali

halted, saying that the tomb was under the stone. Accordingly, we

dismounted, and, leaving the donkeys in charge of a fellah boy, went up

to the rock. Beneath it was a small hole, barely large enough for a man

to creep through. Indeed it had been dug by jackals, for the doorway and

some part of the cave were entirely silted up, and it was by means of

this jackal hole that the tomb had been discovered. Ali crept in on his

hands and knees, and I followed, to find myself in a place cold after

the hot outside air, and, in contrast with the light, filled with a

dazzling darkness. We lit our candles, and, the select body of thieves

having arrived, I made an examination. We were in a cave the size of

a large room, and hollowed by hand, the further part of the cave being

almost free from drift-dust. On the walls are religious paintings of the

usual Ptolemaic character, and among them one of a majestic old man with

a long white beard, who is seated in a carved chair holding a wand in

his hand.[*] Before him passes a procession of priests bearing sacred

images. In the right hand corner of the tomb is the shaft of the

mummy-pit, a square-mouthed well cut in the black rock. We had brought a

beam of thorn-wood, and this was now laid across the pit and a rope

made fast to it. Then Ali--who, to do him justice, is a courageous

thief--took hold of the rope, and, putting some candles into the breast

of his robe, placed his bare feet against the smooth sides of the well

and began to descent with great rapidity. Very soon he had vanished into

blackness, and the agitation of the cord alone told us that anything was

going on below. At last the rope ceased shaking and a faint shout came

rumbling up the well, announcing Ali’s safe arrival. Then, far below, a

tiny star of light appeared. He had lit the candle, thereby disturbing

hundreds of bats that flitted up in an endless stream and as silently as

spirits. The rope was hauled up again, and now it was my turn; but, as

I declined to trust my neck to the hand-over-hand method of descent, the

end of the cord was made fast round my middle and I was lowered bodily

into those sacred depths. Nor was it a pleasant journey, for, if the

masters of the situation above had made any mistake, I should have been

dashed to pieces. Also, the bats continually flew into my face and clung

to my hair, and I have a great dislike of bats. At last, after some

minutes of jerking and dangling, I found myself standing in a

narrow passage by the side of the worthy Ali, covered with bats and

perspiration, and with the skin rubbed off my knees and knuckles. Then

another man came down, hand over hand like a sailor, and as the rest

were told to stop above we were ready to go on. Ali went first with

his candle--of course we each had a candle--leading the way down a long

passage about five feet high. At length the passage widened out, and we

were in the tomb-chamber: I think the hottest and most silent place that

I ever entered. It was simply stifling. This chamber is a square room

cut in the rock and totally devoid of paintings or sculpture. I held

up the candles and looked round. About the place were strewn the coffin

lids and the mummied remains of the two bodies that the Arabs had

previously violated. The paintings on the former were, I noticed, of

great beauty, though, having no knowledge of hieroglyphics, I could not

decipher them. Beads and spicy wrappings lay around the remains, which,

I saw, were those of a man and a woman.[+] The head had been broken off

the body of the man. I took it up and looked at it. It had been closely

shaved--after death, I should say, from the general indications--and the

features were disfigured with gold leaf. But notwithstanding this,

and the shrinkage of the flesh, I think the face was one of the most

imposing and beautiful that I ever saw. It was that of a very old man,

and his dead countenance still wore so calm and solemn, indeed, so awful

a look, that I grew quite superstitious (though as you know, I am pretty

well accustomed to dead people), and put the head down in a hurry. There

were still some wrappings left upon the face of the second body, and I

did not remove them; but she must have been a fine large woman in her

day.

[*] This, I take it, is a portrait of Amenemhat himself.--

Editor.

[+] Doubtless Amenemhat and his wife.--Editor.

“‘There the other mummy,’ said Ali, pointing to a large and solid case

that seemed to have been carelessly thrown down in a corner, for it was

lying on its side.

“I went up to it and carefully examined it. It was well made, but of

perfectly plain cedar-wood--not an inscription, not a solitary God on

it.

“‘Never see one like him before,’ said Ali. ‘Bury great hurry, he no

“mafish,” no “fineesh.” Throw him down here on side.’

“I looked at the plain case till at last my interest was thoroughly

aroused. I was so shocked by the sight of the scattered dust of

the departed that I had made up my mind not to touch the remaining

coffin--but now my curiosity overcame me, and we set to work.

“Ali had brought a mallet and a cold chisel with him, and, having

set the coffin straight, he began upon it with all the zeal of an

experienced tomb-breaker. And then he pointed out another thing. Most

mummy-cases are fastened by four little tongues of wood, two on either

side, which are fixed in the upper half, and, passing into mortices cut

to receive them in the thickness of the lower half, are there held

fast by pegs of hard wood. But this mummy case had eight such tongues.

Evidently it had been thought well to secure it firmly. At last, with

great difficulty, we raised the massive lid, which was nearly three

inches thick, and there, covered over with a deep layer of loose spices

(a very unusual thing), was the body.

“Ali looked at it with open eyes--and no wonder. For this mummy was not

as other mummies are. Mummies in general lie upon their backs, as stiff

and calm as though they were cut from wood; but this mummy lay upon its

side, and, the wrappings notwithstanding, its knees were slightly bent.

More than that, indeed, the gold mask, which, after the fashion of the

Ptolemaic period, had been set upon the face, had worked down, and was

literally pounded up beneath the hooded head.

“It was impossible, seeing these things, to avoid the conclusion that

the mummy before us had moved with violence _since it was put in the

coffin_.

“‘Him very funny mummy. Him not “mafish” when him go in there,’ said

Ali.

“‘Nonsense!’ I said. ‘Who ever heard of a live mummy?’

“We lifted the body out of the coffin, nearly choking ourselves with

mummy dust in the process, and there beneath it half hidden among the

spices, we made our first find. It was a roll of papyrus, carelessly

fastened and wrapped in a piece of mummy cloth, having to all appearance

been thrown into the coffin at the moment of closing.[*]

[*] This roll contained the third unfinished book of the

history. The other two rolls were neatly fastened in the

usual fashion. All three are written by one hand in the

Demotic character.--Editor.

“Ali eyed the papyrus greedily, but I seized it and put it in my pocket,

for it was agreed that I was to have all that might be discovered.

Then we began to unwrap the body. It was covered with very broad strong

bandages, thickly wound and roughly tied, sometimes by means of simple

knots, the whole working the appearance of having been executed in

great haste and with difficulty. Just over the head was a large lump.

Presently, the bandages covering it were off, and there, on the face,

lay a second roll of papyrus. I put down my hand to lift it, but it

would not come away. It appeared to be fixed to the stout seamless

shroud which was drawn over the whole body, and tied beneath the

feet--as a farmer ties sacks. This shroud, which was also thickly waxed,

was in one piece, being made to fit the form like a garment. I took a

candle and examined the roll and then I saw why it was fast. The spices

had congealed and glued it to the sack-like shroud. It was impossible to

get it away without tearing the outer sheets of papyrus.[*]

[*] This accounts for the gaps in the last sheets of the

second roll. --Editor.

“At last, however, I wrenched it loose and put it with the other in my

pocket.

“Then we went on with our dreadful task in silence. With much care we

ripped loose the sack-like garment, and at last the body of a man lay

before us. Between his knees was a third roll of papyrus. I secured it,

then held down the light and looked at him. One glance at his face was

enough to tell a doctor how he had died.

“This body was not much dried up. Evidently it had not passed the

allotted seventy days in natron, and therefore the expression and

likeness were better preserved than is usual. Without entering into

particulars, I will only say that I hope I shall never see such another

look as that which was frozen on this dead man’s face. Even the Arabs

recoiled from it in horror and began to mutter prayers.

“For the rest, the usual opening on the left side through which the

embalmers did their work was absent; the finely-cut features were those

of a person of middle age, although the hair was already grey, and

the frame was that of a very powerful man, the shoulders being of an

extraordinary width. I had not time to examine very closely, however,

for within a few seconds from its uncovering, the unembalmed body began

to crumble now that it was exposed to the action of the air. In five or

six minutes there was literally nothing left of it but a wisp of hair,

the skull, and a few of the larger bones. I noticed that one of the

tibiæ--I forget if it was the right or the left--had been fractured and

very badly set. It must have been quite an inch shorter than the other.

“Well, there was nothing more to find, and now that the excitement was

over, what between the heat, the exertion, and the smell of mummy dust

and spices, I felt more dead than alive.

“I am tired of writing, and this ship rolls. This letter, of course,

goes overland, and I am coming by ‘long sea,’ but I hope to be in London

within ten days after you get it. Then I will tell you of my pleasing

experiences in the course of the ascent from the tomb-chamber, and of

how that prince of rascals, Ali Baba, and his thieves tried to frighten

me into handing over the papyri, and how I worsted them. Then, too, we

will get the rolls deciphered. I expect that they only contain the usual

thing, copies of the ‘Book of the Dead,’ but there _may_ be something

else in them. Needless to say, I did not narrate this little adventure

in Egypt, or I should have had the Boulac Museum people on my track.

Good-bye, ‘Mafish Fineesh,’ as Ali Baba always said.”

In due course, my friend, the writer of the letter from which I have

quoted, arrived in London, and on the very next day we paid a visit to

a learned acquaintance well versed in Hieroglyphics and Demotic writing.

The anxiety with which we watched him skilfully damping and unfolding

one of the rolls and peering through his gold-rimmed glasses at the

mysterious characters may well be imagined.

“Hum,” he said, “whatever it is, this is _not_ a copy of the ‘Book of

the Dead.’ By George, what’s this? Cle--Cleo--Cleopatra----Why, my dear

Sirs, as I am a living man, this is the history of somebody who lived

in the days of Cleopatra, _the_ Cleopatra, for here’s Antony’s name with

hers! Well, there’s six months’ work before me here--six months, at

the very least!” And in that joyful prospect he fairly lost control of

himself, and skipped about the room, shaking hands with us at intervals,

and saying “I’ll translate--I’ll translate it if it kills me, and

we will publish it; and, by the living Osiris, it shall drive every

Egyptologist in Europe mad with envy! Oh, what a find! what a most

glorious find!”

And O you whose eyes fall upon these pages, see, they have been

translated, and they have been printed, and here they lie before you--an

undiscovered land wherein you are free to travel!

Harmachis speaks to you from his forgotten tomb. The walls of Time fall

down, and, as at the lightning’s leap, a picture from the past starts

upon your view, framed in the darkness of the ages.

He shows you those two Egypts which the silent pyramids looked down upon

long centuries ago--the Egypt of the Greek, the Roman, and the Ptolemy,

and that other outworn Egypt of the Hierophant, hoary with years, heavy

with the legends of antiquity and the memory of long-lost honours.

He tells you how the smouldering loyalty of the land of Khem blazed

up before it died, and how fiercely the old Time-consecrated Faith

struggled against the conquering tide of Change that rose, like Nile at

flood, and drowned the ancient Gods of Egypt.

Here, in his pages, you shall learn the glory of Isis the Many-shaped,

the Executrix of Decrees. Here you shall make acquaintance with the

shade of Cleopatra, that “Thing of Flame,” whose passion-breathing

beauty shaped the destiny of Empires. Here you shall read how the soul

of Charmion was slain of the sword her vengeance smithied.

Here Harmachis, the doomed Egyptian, being about to die, salutes you who

follow on the path he trod. In the story of his broken years he shows to

you what may in its degree be the story of your own. Crying aloud from

that dim Amenti[*] where to-day he wears out his long atoning time, he

tells, in the history of his fall, the fate of him who, however sorely

tried, forgets his God, his Honour, and his Country.

[*] The Egyptian Hades or Purgatory.--Editor.

BOOK I--THE PREPARATION OF HARMACHIS

CHAPTER I

OF THE BIRTH OF HARMACHIS; THE PROPHECY OF THE HATHORS; AND THE SLAYING

OF THE INNOCENT CHILD

By Osiris who sleeps at Abouthis, I write the truth.

I, Harmachis, Hereditary Priest of the Temple, reared by the divine

Sethi, aforetime a Pharaoh of Egypt, and now justified in Osiris and

ruling in Amenti. I, Harmachis, by right Divine and by true descent of

blood King of the Double Crown, and Pharaoh of the Upper and Lower Land.

I, Harmachis, who cast aside the opening flower of our hope, who turned

from the glorious path, who forgot the voice of God in hearkening to the

voice of woman. I, Harmachis, the fallen, in whom are gathered up all

woes as waters are gathered in a desert well, who have tasted of every

shame, who through betrayal have betrayed, who in losing the glory that

is here have lost the glory which is to be, who am utterly undone--I

write, and, by Him who sleeps at Abouthis, I write the truth.

O Egypt!--dear land of Khem, whose black soil nourished up my mortal

part--land that I have betrayed--O Osiris!--Isis!--Horus!--ye Gods of

Egypt whom I have betrayed!--O ye temples whose pylons strike the sky,

whose faith I have betrayed!--O Royal blood of the Pharaohs of eld, that

yet runs within these withered veins--whose virtue I have betrayed!--O

Invisible Essence of all Good! and O Fate, whose balance rested on my

hand--hear me; and, to the day of utter doom, bear me witness that I

write the truth.

Even while I write, beyond the fertile fields, the Nile is running red,

as though with blood. Before me the sunlight beats upon the far Arabian

hills, and falls upon the piles of Abouthis. Still the priests make

orison within the temples at Abouthis that know me no more; still

the sacrifice is offered, and the stony roofs echo back the people’s

prayers. Still from this lone cell within my prison-tower, I, the Word

of Shame, watch thy fluttering banners, Abouthis, flaunting from thy

pylon walls, and hear the chants as the long procession winds from

sanctuary to sanctuary.

Abouthis, lost Abouthis! my heart goes out toward thee! For the day

comes when the desert sands shall fill thy secret places! Thy Gods are

doomed, O Abouthis! New Faiths shall make a mock of all thy Holies, and

Centurion shall call upon Centurion across thy fortress-walls. I weep--I

weep tears of blood: for mine is the sin that brought about these evils

and mine for ever is their shame.

Behold, it is written hereafter.

Here in Abouthis I was born, I, Harmachis, and my father, the justified

in Osiris, was High Priest of the Temple of Sethi. And on that same day

of my birth Cleopatra, the Queen of Egypt, was born also. I passed my

youth in yonder fields watching the baser people at their labours and

going in and out at will among the great courts of the temples. Of my

mother I knew naught, for she died when I yet hung at the breast. But

before she died in the reign of Ptolemy Aulêtes, who is named the Piper,

so did the old wife, Atoua, told me, my mother took a golden uræus, the

snake symbol of our Royalty of Egypt, from a coffer of ivory and laid

it on my brow. And those who saw her do this believed that she was

distraught of the Divinity, and in her madness foreshadowed that the day

of the Macedonian Lagidæ was ended, and that Egypt’s sceptre should pass

again to the hand of Egypt’s true and Royal race. But when my father,

the old High Priest Amenemhat, whose only child I was, she who was his

wife before my mother having been, for what crime I know not, cursed

with barrenness by Sekhet: I say when my father came in and saw what the

dying woman had done, he lifted up his hands towards the vault of heaven

and adored the Invisible, because of the sign that had been sent. And

as he adored, the Hathors[*] filled my dying mother with the Spirit of

Prophecy, and she rose in strength from the couch and prostrated herself

thrice before the cradle where I lay asleep, the Royal asp upon my brow,

crying aloud:

[*] The Egyptian _Parcæ_ or _Fates_.--Editor.

“Hail to thee, fruit of my womb! Hail to thee, Royal child! Hail to

thee, Pharaoh that shalt be! Hail to thee, God that shalt purge the

land, Divine seed of Nekt-nebf, the descended from Isis. Keep thee pure,

and thou shalt rule and deliver Egypt and not be broken. But if thou

dost fail in thy hour of trial, then may the curse of all the Gods

of Egypt rest upon thee, and the curse of thy Royal forefathers, the

justified, who ruled the land before thee from the age of Horus. Then in

life mayst thou be wretched, and after death may Osiris refuse thee,

and the judges of Amenti give judgment against thee, and Set and Sekhet

torment thee, till such time as thy sin is purged, and the Gods of

Egypt, called by strange names, are once more worshipped in the Temples

of Egypt, and the staff of the Oppressor is broken, and the footsteps of

the Foreigner are swept clean, and the thing is accomplished as thou in

thy weakness shalt cause it to be done.”

When she had spoken thus, the Spirit of Prophecy went out of her, and

she fell dead across the cradle where I slept, so that I awoke with a

cry.

But my father, Amenemhat, the High Priest, trembled, and was very

fearful, both because of the words which had been said by the Spirit of

the Hathors through the mouth of my mother, and because what had been

uttered was treason against Ptolemy. For he knew that, if the matter

should come to the ears of Ptolemy, Pharaoh would send his guards

to destroy the life of the child concerning whom such things were

prophesied. Therefore, my father shut the doors, and caused all those

who stood by to swear upon the holy symbol of his office, and by the

name of the Divine Three, and by the Soul of her who lay dead upon the

stones beside them, that nothing of what they had seen and heard should

pass their lips.

Now among the company was the old wife, Atoua, who had been the nurse of

my mother, and loved her well; and in these days, though I know not how

it had been in the past, nor how it shall be in the future, there is

no oath that can bind a woman’s tongue. And so it came about that

by-and-by, when the matter had become homely in her mind, and her fear

had fallen from her, she spoke of the prophecy to her daughter, who

nursed me at the breast now that my mother was dead. She did this as

they walked together in the desert carrying food to the husband of the

daughter, who was a sculptor, and shaped effigies of the holy Gods

in the tombs that are fashioned in the rock--telling the daughter, my

nurse, how great must be her care and love toward the child that

should one day be Pharaoh, and drive the Ptolemies from Egypt. But the

daughter, my nurse, was so filled with wonder at what she heard that she

could not keep the tale locked within her breast, and in the night she

awoke her husband, and, in her turn, whispered it to him, and thereby

compassed her own destruction, and the destruction of her child, my

foster-brother. For the man told his friend, and the friend was a spy of

Ptolemy’s, and thus the tale came to Pharaoh’s ears.

Now, Pharaoh was much troubled thereat, for though when he was full of

wine he would make a mock of the God of the Egyptians, and swear that

the Roman Senate was the only God to whom he bowed the knee, yet in his

heart he was terribly afraid, as I have learned from one who was his

physician. For when he was alone at night he would scream and cry aloud

to the great Serapis, who indeed is no true God, and to other Gods,

fearing lest he should be murdered and his soul handed over to the

tormentors. Also, when he felt his throne tremble under him, he would

send large presents to the temples, asking a message from the oracles,

and more especially from the oracle that is at Philæ. Therefore, when

it came to his ears that the wife of the High Priest of the great and

ancient Temple of Abouthis had been filled with the Spirit of Prophecy

before she died, and foretold that her son should be Pharaoh, he was

much afraid, and summoning some trusty guards--who, being Greeks, did

not fear to do sacrilege--he despatched them by boat up the Nile, with

orders to come to Abouthis and cut off the head of the child of the High

Priest and bring it to him in a basket.

But, as it chanced, the boat in which the guards came was of deep

draught, and, the time of their coming being at the lowest ebb of the

river, it struck and remained fast upon a bank of mud that is opposite

the mouth of the road running across the plains to Abouthis, and, as the

north wind was blowing very fiercely, it was like to sink. Thereon

the guards of Pharaoh called out to the common people, who laboured at

lifting water along the banks of the river, to come with boats and take

them off; but, seeing that they were Greeks of Alexandria, the people

would not, for the Egyptians do not love the Greeks. Then the guards

cried that they were on Pharaoh’s business, and still the people would

not, asking what was their business. Whereon a eunuch among them who

had made himself drunk in his fear, told them that they came to slay the

child of Amenemhat, the High Priest, of whom it was prophesied that he

should be Pharaoh and sweep the Greeks from Egypt. And then the people

feared to stand longer in doubt, but brought boats, not knowing what

might be meant by the man’s words. But there was one amongst them--a

farmer and an overseer of canals--who was a kinsman of my mother’s and

had been present when she prophesied; and he turned and ran swiftly for

three parts of an hour, till he came to where I lay in the house that

is without the north wall of the great Temple. Now, as it chanced, my

father was away in that part of the Place of Tombs which is to the left

of the large fortress, and Pharaoh’s guards, mounted on asses, were hard

upon us. Then the messenger cried to the old wife, Atoua, whose tongue

had brought about the evil, and told how the soldiers drew near to slay

me. And they looked at each other, not knowing what to do; for, had they

hid me, the guards would not have stayed their search till I was found.

But the man, gazing through the doorway, saw a little child at play:

“Woman,” he said, “whose is that child?”

“It is my grandchild,” she answered, “the foster-brother of the Prince

Harmachis; the child to whose mother we owe this evil case.”

“Woman,” he said, “thou knowest thy duty, do it!” and he again pointed

at the child. “I command thee, by the Holy Name!”

Atoua trembled exceedingly, because the child was of her own blood; but,

nevertheless, she took the boy and washed him and set a robe of silk

upon him, and laid him on my cradle. And me she took and smeared with

mud to make my fair skin darker, and, drawing my garment from me, set me

to play in the dirt of the yard, which I did right gladly.

Then the man hid himself, and presently the soldiers rode up and asked

of the old wife if this were the dwelling of the High Priest Amenemhat?

And she told them yea, and, bidding them enter, offered them honey and

milk, for they were thirsty.

When they had drunk, the eunuch who was with them asked if that were

the son of Amenemhat who lay in the cradle; and she said “Yea--yea,”

and began to tell the guards how he would be great, for it had been

prophesied of him that he should one day rule them all.

But the Greek guards laughed, and one of them, seizing the child, smote

off his head with a sword; and the eunuch drew forth the signet of

Pharaoh as warrant for the deed and showed it to the old wife, Atoua,

bidding her tell the High Priest that his son should be King without a

head.

And as they went one of their number saw me playing in the dirt and

called out that there was more breeding in yonder brat than in the

Prince Harmachis; and for a moment they wavered, thinking to slay

me also, but in the end they passed on, bearing the head of my

foster-brother, for they loved not to murder little children.

After a while, the mother of the dead child returned from the

market-place, and when she found what had been done, she and her husband

would have killed Atoua the old wife, her mother, and given me up to the

soldiers of Pharaoh. But my father came in also and learned the truth,

and he caused the man and his wife to be seized by night and hidden away

in the dark places of the temple, so that none saw them more.

But I would to-day that it had been the will of the Gods that I had been

slain of the soldiers and not the innocent child.

Thereafter it was given out that the High Priest Amenemhat had taken me

to be as a son to him in the place of that Harmachis who was slain of

Pharaoh.

CHAPTER II

OF THE DISOBEDIENCE OF HARMACHIS; OF THE SLAYING OF THE LION; AND OF THE

SPEECH OF THE OLD WIFE, ATOUA

And after these things Ptolemy the Piper troubled us no more, nor did he

again send his soldiers to seek for him of whom it was prophesied that

he should be Pharaoh. For the head of the child, my foster-brother,

was brought to him by the eunuch as he sat in his palace of marble at

Alexandria, flushed with Cyprian wine, and played upon the flute before

his women. And at his bidding the eunuch lifted up the head by the hair

for him to look on. Then he laughed and smote it on the cheek with his

sandal, bidding one of the girls crown Pharaoh with flowers. And he

bowed the knee, and mocked the head of the innocent child. But the girl,

who was sharp of tongue--for all of this I heard in after years--said

to him that “he did well to bow the knee, for this child was indeed

Pharaoh, the greatest of Pharaohs, and his name was the _Osiris_ and his

throne was _Death_.”

Aulêtes was much troubled at these words, and trembled, for, being a

wicked man, he greatly feared entering into Amenti. So he caused the

girl to be slain because of the evil omen of her saying; crying that he

would send her to worship that Pharaoh whom she had named. And the other

women he sent away, and played no more upon the flute till he was once

again drunk on the morrow. But the Alexandrians made a song on the

matter, which is still sung about the streets. And this is the beginning

of it--

Ptolemy the Piper played

Over dead and dying;

Piped and played he well.

Sure that flute of his was made

Of the dank reed sighing

O’er the streams of Hell.

There beneath the shadows grey,

With the sisters three,

Shall he pipe for many a day.

May the Frog his butler be!

And his wine the water of that countrie--

Ptolemy the Piper!

After this the years passed on, nor did I, being very little, know

anything of the great things that came to pass in Egypt; nor is it my

purpose to set them out here. For I, Harmachis, having little time left

to me, will only speak of those things with which I have been concerned.

And as the time went on, my father and the teachers instructed me in the

ancient learning of our people, and in such matters appertaining to

the Gods as it is meet that children should know. So I grew strong and

comely, for my hair was black as the hair of the divine Nout, and my

eyes were blue as the blue lotus, and my skin was like the alabaster

within the sanctuaries. For now that these glories have passed from me

I may speak of them without shame. I was strong also. There was no youth

of my years in Abouthis who could stand against me to wrestle with me,

nor could any throw so far with the sling or spear. And I much yearned

to hunt the lion; but he whom I called my father forbade me, telling me

that my life was of too great worth to be so lightly hazarded. But when

I bowed before him and prayed he would make his meaning clear to me,

the old man frowned and answered that the Gods made all things clear in

their own season. For my part, however, I went away in wroth, for there

was a youth in Abouthis who with others had slain a lion which fell upon

his father’s herds, and, being envious of my strength and beauty, he set

it about that I was cowardly at heart, in that when I went out to hunt

I only slew jackals and gazelles. Now, this was when I had reached my

seventeenth year and was a man grown.

It chanced, therefore, that as I went sore at heart from the presence

of the High Priest, I met this youth, who called to me and mocked me,

bidding me know the country people had told him that a great lion was

down among the rushes by the banks of the canal which runs past the

Temple, lying at a distance of thirty stadia from Abouthis. And, still

mocking me, he asked me if I would come and help him slay this lion, or

would I go and sit among the old women and bid them comb my side lock?

This bitter word so angered me that I was near to falling on him; but

in place therefore, forgetting my father’s saying, I answered that if he

would come alone, I would go with him and seek this lion, and he should

learn if I were indeed a coward. And at first he would not, for, as men

know, it is our custom to hunt the lion in companies; so it was my hour

to mock. Then he went and fetched his bow and arrows and a sharp knife.

And I brought forth my heavy spear, which had a shaft of thorn-wood, and

at its end a pomegranate in silver, to hold the hand from slipping; and,

in silence, we went, side by side, to where the lion lay. When we

came to the place, it was near sundown; and there, upon the mud of the

canal-bank, we found the lion’s slot, which ran into a thick clump of

reeds.

“Now, thou boaster,” I said, “wilt thou lead the way into yonder reeds,

or shall I?” And I made as though I would lead the way.

“Nay, nay,” he answered, “be not so mad! The brute will spring upon

thee and rend thee. See! I will shoot among the reeds. Perchance, if he

sleeps, it will arouse him.” And he drew his bow at a venture.

How it chanced I know not, but the arrow struck the sleeping lion, and,

like a flash of light from the belly of a cloud, he bounded from the

shelter of the reeds, and stood before us with bristling mane and yellow

eyes, the arrow quivering in his flank. He roared aloud in fury, and the

earth shook.

“Shoot with the bow,” I cried, “shoot swiftly ere he spring!”

But courage had left the breast of the boaster, his jaw dropped down and

his fingers unloosed their hold so that the bow fell from them; then,

with a loud cry he turned and fled behind me, leaving the lion in my

path. But while I stood waiting my doom, for though I was sore afraid

I would not fly, the lion crouched himself, and turning not aside, with

one great bound swept over me, touching me not. He lit, and again he

bounded full upon the boaster’s back, striking him such a blow with his

great paw that his head was crushed as an egg thrown against a stone. He

fell down dead, and the lion stood and roared over him. Then I was mad

with horror, and, scarce knowing what I did, I grasped my spear and with

a shout I charged. As I charged the lion lifted himself up above me.

He smote at me with his paw; but with all my strength I drove the broad

spear into his throat, and, shrinking from the agony of the steel, his

blow fell short and did no more than rip my skin. Back he fell, the

great spear far in his throat; then rising, he roared in pain and leapt

twice the height of a man straight into the air, smiting at the spear

with his forepaws. Twice he leapt thus, horrible to see, and twice he

fell upon his back. Then his strength spent itself with his rushing

blood, and, groaning like a bull, he died; while I, being but a lad,

stood and trembled with fear now that all cause of fear had passed.

But as I stood and gazed at the body of him who had taunted me, and at

the carcass of the lion, a woman came running towards me, even the same

old wife, Atoua, who, though I knew it not as yet, had offered up her

flesh and blood that I might be saved alive. For she had been gathering

simples, in which she had great skill, by the water’s edge, not knowing

that there was a lion near (and, indeed, the lions, for the most part,

are not found in the tilled land, but rather in the desert and the

Libyan mountains), and had seen from a distance that which I have set

down. Now, when she was come, she knew me for Harmachis, and, bending

herself, she made obeisance to me, and saluted me, calling me Royal, and

worthy of all honour, and beloved, and chosen of the Holy Three, ay, and

by the name of the Pharaoh! the Deliverer!

But I, thinking that terror had made her sick of mind, asked her of what

she would speak.

“Is it a great thing,” I asked, “that I should slay a lion? Is it a

matter worthy of such talk as thine? There live, and have lived, men who

have slain many lions. Did not the Divine Amen-hetep the Osirian slay

with his own hand more than a hundred lions? Is it not written on the

scarabæus that hangs within my father’s chamber, that he slew lions

aforetime? And have not others done likewise? Why then, speakest thou

thus, O foolish woman?”

All of which I said, because, having now slain the lion, I was minded,

after the manner of youth, to hold it as a thing of no account. But she

did not cease to make obeisance, and to call me by names that are too

high to be written.

“O Royal One,” she cried, “wisely did thy mother prophecy. Surely the

Holy Spirit, the Knepth, was in her, O thou conceived by a God! See the

omen. The lion there--he growls within the Capitol at Rome--and the dead

man, he is the Ptolemy--the Macedonian spawn that, like a foreign weed,

hath overgrown the land of Nile; with the Macedonian Lagidæ thou shalt

go to smite the lion of Rome. But the Macedonian cur shall fly, and the

Roman lion shall strike him down, and thou shalt strike down the lion,

and the land of Khem shall once more be free! free! Keep thyself but

pure, according to the commandment of the Gods, O son of the Royal

House; O hope of Khemi! be but ware of Woman the Destroyer, and as I

have said, so shall it be. I am poor and wretched; yea, stricken with

sorrow. I have sinned in speaking of what should be hid, and for my sin

I have paid in the coin of that which was born of my womb; willingly

have I paid for thee. But I have still of the wisdom of our people, nor

do the Gods, in whose eyes all are equal, turn their countenance from

the poor; the Divine Mother Isis hath spoken to me--but last night she

spake--bidding me come hither to gather herbs, and read to thee the

signs that I should see. And as I have said, so it shall come to pass,

if thou canst but endure the weight of the great temptation. Come

hither, Royal One!” and she led me to the edge of the canal, where the

water was deep, and still and blue. “Now gaze upon that face as the

water throws it back. Is not that brow fitted to bear the double crown?

Do not those gentle eyes mirror the majesty of kings? Hath not the Ptah,

the Creator, fashioned that form to fit the Imperial garb, and awe the

glance of multitudes looking through thee to God?

“Nay, nay!” she went on in another voice--a shrill old wife’s voice--“I

will--be not so foolish, boy--the scratch of a lion is a venomous thing,

a terrible thing; yea, as bad as the bite of an asp--it must be treated,

else it will fester, and all thy days thou shalt dream of lions; ay, and

snakes; and, also, it will break out in sores. But I know of it--I know.

I am not crazed for nothing. For mark! everything has its balance--in

madness is much wisdom, and in wisdom much madness. _La! la! la!_

Pharaoh himself can’t say where the one begins and the other ends. Now,

don’t stand gazing there, looking as silly as a cat in a crocus-coloured

robe, as they say in Alexandria; but just let me stick these green

things on the place, and in six days you’ll heal up as white as a

three-year-child. Never mind the smart of it, lad. By Him who sleeps

at Philæ, or at Abouthis, or at Abydus--as our divine masters have it

now--or wherever He does sleep, which is a thing we shall all find out

before we want to--by Osiris, I say, you’ll live to be as clean from

scars as a sacrifice to Isis at the new moon, if you’ll but let me put

it on.

“Is it not so, good folk?”--and she turned to address some people who,

while she prophesied, had assembled unseen by me--“I’ve been speaking a

spell over him, just to make a way for the virtue of my medicine--_la!

la!_ there’s nothing like a spell. If you don’t believe it, just you

come to me next time your wives are barren; it’s better than scraping

every pillar in the Temple of Osiris, I’ll warrant. I’ll make ‘em bear

like a twenty-year-old palm. But then, you see, you must know what to

say--that’s the point--everything comes to a point at last. _La! la!_”

Now, when I heard all this, I, Harmachis, put my hand to my head, not

knowing if I dreamed. But presently looking up, I saw a grey-haired

man among those who were gathered together, who watched us sharply, and

afterwards I learned that this man was the spy of Ptolemy, the very man,

indeed, who had wellnigh caused me to be slain of Pharaoh when I was in

my cradle. Then I understood why Atoua spoke so foolishly.

“Thine are strange spells, old wife,” the spy said. “Thou didst speak of

Pharaoh and the double crown and of the form fashioned by Ptah to bear

it; is it not so?”

“Yea, yea--part of the spell, thou fool; and what can one swear by

better nowadays than by the Divine Pharaoh the Piper, whom, and whose

music, may the Gods preserve to charm this happy land?--what better than

by the double crown he wears--grace to great Alexander of Macedonia? By

the way, you know about everything: have they got back his chlamys yet,

which Mithridates took to Cos? Pompey wore it last, didn’t he?--in his

triumph, too--just fancy Pompey in the cloak of Alexander!--a puppy-dog

in a lion’s skin! And talking of lions--look what this lad hath

done--slain a lion with his own spear; and right glad you village folks

should be to see it, for it was a very fierce lion--just see his teeth

and his claws--his claws!--they are enough to make a poor silly old

woman like me shriek to look at them! And the body there, the dead

body--the lion slew it. Alack! he’s an Osiris[*] now, the body--and to

think of it, but an hour ago he was an everyday mortal like you or me!

Well, away with him to the embalmers. He’ll soon swell in the sun and

burst, and that will save them the trouble of cutting him open. Not

that they will spend a talent of silver over him anyway. Seventy days in

natron--that’s all he’s likely to get. _La! la!_ how my tongue does run,

and it’s getting dark. Come, aren’t you going to take away the body of

that poor lad, and the lion, too? There, my boy, you keep those herbs

on, and you’ll never feel your scratches. I know a thing or two for all

I’m crazy, and you, my own grandson! Dear, dear, I’m glad his Holiness

the High Priest adopted you when Pharaoh--Osiris bless his holy

name--made an end of his son; you look so bonny. I warrant the real

Harmachis could not have killed a lion like that. Give me the common

blood, I say--it’s so lusty.”

[*] The soul when it has been absorbed in the Godhead.--

Editor.

“You know too much and talk too fast,” grumbled the spy, now quite

deceived. “Well, he is a brave youth. Here, you men, bear this body back

to Abouthis, and some of you stop and help me skin the lion. We’ll send

the skin to you, young man,” he went on; “not that you deserve it: to

attack a lion like that was the act of a fool, and a fool deserves what

he gets--destruction. Never attack the strong until you are stronger.”

But for my part I went home wondering.

CHAPTER III

OF THE REBUKE OF AMENEMHAT; OF THE PRAYER OF HARMACHIS; AND OF THE SIGN

GIVEN BY THE HOLY GODS

For a while as I, Harmachis, went, the juice of the green herbs which

the old wife, Atoua, had placed upon my wounds caused me much smart,

but presently the pain ceased. And, of a truth, I believe that there was

virtue in them, for within two days my flesh healed up, so that after a

time no marks remained. But I bethought me that I had disobeyed the word

of the old High Priest, Amenemhat, who was called my father. For till

this day I knew not that he was in truth my father according to the

flesh, having been taught that his own son was slain as I have written;

and that he had been pleased, with the sanction of the Divine ones, to

take me as an adopted son and rear me up, that I might in due season

fulfil an office about the Temple. Therefore I was much troubled, for I

feared the old man, who was very terrible in his anger, and ever spoke

with the cold voice of Wisdom. Nevertheless, I determined to go in

to him and confess my fault and bear such punishment as he should be

pleased to put upon me. So with the red spear in my hand, and the red

wounds on my breast, I passed through the outer court of the great

temple and came to the door of the place where the High Priest dwelt. It

is a great chamber, sculptured round about with the images of the solemn

Gods, and the sunlight comes to it in the daytime by an opening cut

through the stones of the massy roof. But at night it was lit by a

swinging lamp of bronze. I passed in without noise, for the door was

not altogether shut, and, pushing my way through the heavy curtains that

were beyond, I stood with a beating heart within the chamber.

The lamp was lit, for the darkness had fallen, and by its light I saw

the old man seated in a chair of ivory and ebony at a table of stone on

which were spread mystic writings of the words of Life and Death. But

he read no more, for he slept, and his long white beard rested upon the

table like the beard of a dead man. The soft light from the lamp fell

on him, on the papyri and the gold ring upon his hand, where were graven

the symbols of the Invisible One, but all around was shadow. It fell on

the shaven head, on the white robe, on the cedar staff of priesthood

at his side, and on the ivory of the lion-footed chair; it showed

the mighty brow of power, the features cut in kingly mould, the white

eyebrows, and the dark hollows of the deep-set eyes. I looked and

trembled, for there was about him that which was more than the dignity

of man. He had lived so long with the Gods, and so long kept company

with them and with thoughts divine, he was so deeply versed in all those

mysteries which we do but faintly discern, here in this upper air, that

even now, before his time, he partook of the nature of the Osiris, and

was a thing to shake humanity with fear.

I stood and gazed, and as I stood he opened his dark eyes, but looked

not on me, nor turned his head; and yet he saw me and spoke.

“Why hast thou been disobedient to me, my son?” he said. “How came it

that thou wentest forth against the lion when I bade thee not?”

“How knowest thou, my father, that I went forth?” I asked in fear.

“How know I? Are there, then, no other ways of knowledge than by the

senses? Ah, ignorant child! was not my Spirit with thee when the lion

sprang upon thy companion? Did I not pray Those set about thee to

protect thee, to make sure thy thrust when thou didst drive the spear

into the lion’s throat! How came it that thou wentest forth, my son?”

“The boaster taunted me,” I answered, “and I went.”

“Yes, I know it; and, because of the hot blood of youth, I forgive thee,

Harmachis. But now listen to me, and let my words sink into thy

heart like the waters of Sihor into the thirsty sand at the rising of

Sirius.[*] Listen to me. The boaster was sent to thee as a temptation,

he was sent as a trial of thy strength, and see! it has not been equal

to the burden. Therefore thy hour is put back. Hadst thou been strong

in this matter, the path had been made plain to thee even now. But thou

hast failed, and therefore thy hour is put back.”

[*] The dog-star, whose appearance marked the commencement

of the overflow of the Nile.--Editor.

“I understand thee not, my father,” I answered.

“What was it, then, my son, that the old wife, Atoua, said to thee down

by the bank of the canal?”

Then I told him all that the old wife had said.

“And thou believest, Harmachis, my son?”

“Nay,” I answered; “how should I believe such tales? Surely she is mad.

All the people know her for mad.”

Now for the first time he looked towards me, who was standing in the

shadow.

“My son! my son!” he cried; “thou art wrong. She is not mad. The woman

spoke the truth; she spoke not of herself, but of the voice within her

that cannot lie. For this Atoua is a prophetess and holy. Now learn thou

the destiny that the Gods of Egypt have given to thee to fulfil, and woe

be unto thee if by any weakness thou dost fail therein! Listen: thou art

no stranger adopted into my house and the worship of the Temple; thou

art my very son, saved to me by this same woman. But, Harmachis, thou

art more than this, for in thee and me alone yet flows the Imperial

blood of Egypt. Thou and I alone of men alive are descended, without

break or flaw, from that Pharaoh Nekt-nebf whom Ochus the Persian drove

from Egypt. The Persian came and the Persian went, and after the Persian

came the Macedonian, and now for nigh upon three hundred years the

Lagidæ have usurped the double crown, defiling the land of Khem and

corrupting the worship of its Gods. And mark thou this: but now, two

weeks since, Ptolemy Neus Dionysus, Ptolemy Aulêtes the Piper, who would

have slain thee, is dead; and but now hath the Eunuch Pothinus, that

very eunuch who came hither, years ago, to cut thee off, set at naught

the will of his master, the dead Aulêtes, and placed the boy Ptolemy

upon the throne. And therefore his sister Cleopatra, that fierce and

beautiful girl, has fled into Syria; and there, if I err not, she will

gather her armies and make war upon her brother Ptolemy: for by her

father’s will she was left joint-sovereign with him. And, meanwhile,

mark thou this, my son: the Roman eagle hangs on high, waiting with

ready talons till such time as he may fall upon the fat wether Egypt and

rend him. And mark again: the people of Egypt are weary of the foreign

yoke, they hate the memory of the Persians, and they are sick at heart

of being named ‘Men of Macedonia’ in the markets of Alexandria. The

whole land mutters and murmurs beneath the yoke of the Greek and the

shadow of the Roman.

“Have we not been oppressed? Have not our children been butchered and

our gains wrung from us to fill the bottomless greed and lust of the

Lagidæ? Have not the temples been forsaken?--ay, have not the majesties

of the Eternal Gods been set at naught by these Grecian babblers, who

have dared to meddle with the immortal truths, and name the Most High by

another name--by the name of Serapis--confounding the substance of the

Invisible? Does not Egypt cry aloud for freedom?--and shall she cry in

vain? Nay, nay, for thou, my son, art the appointed way of deliverance.

To thee, being sunk in eld, I have decreed my rights. Already thy name

is whispered in many a sanctuary, from Abu to Athu; already priests and

people swear allegiance, even by the sacred symbols, unto him who shall

be declared to them. Still, the time is not yet; thou art too green a

sapling to bear the weight of such a storm. But to-day thou wast tried

and found wanting.

“He who would serve the Gods, Harmachis, must put aside the failings of

the flesh. Taunts must not move him, nor any lusts of man. Thine is a

high mission, but this thou must learn. If thou learn it not, thou shalt

fail therein; and then, my curse be on thee! and the curse of Egypt,

and the curse of Egypt’s broken Gods! For know thou this, that even the

Gods, who are immortal, may, in the interwoven scheme of things, lean

upon the man who is their instrument, as a warrior on his sword. And woe

be to the sword that snaps in the hour of battle, for it shall be thrown

aside to rust or perchance be melted with fire! Therefore, make thy

heart pure and high and strong; for thine is no common lot, and thine

no mortal meed. Triumph, Harmachis, and in glory thou shalt go--in glory

here and hereafter! Fail, and woe--woe be on thee!”

He paused and bowed his head, and then went on:

“Of these matters thou shalt hear more hereafter. Meanwhile, thou

hast much to learn. To-morrow I will give thee letters, and thou shalt

journey down the Nile, past white-walled Memphis to Annu. There thou

shalt sojourn certain years, and learn more of our ancient wisdom

beneath the shadow of those secret pyramids of which thou, too, art the

Hereditary High Priest that is to be. And meanwhile, I will sit here and

watch, for my hour is not yet, and, by the help of the Gods, spin the

web of Death wherein thou shalt catch and hold the wasp of Macedonia.

“Come hither, my son; come hither and kiss me on the brow, for thou art

my hope, and all the hope of Egypt. Be but true, soar to the eagle crest

of destiny, and thou shalt be glorious here and hereafter. Be false,

fail, and I will spit upon thee, and thou shalt be accursed, and thy

soul shall remain in bondage till that hour when, in the slow flight

of time, the evil shall once more grow to good and Egypt shall again be

free.”

I drew near, trembling, and kissed him on the brow. “May all these

things come upon me, and more,” I said, “if I fail thee, my father!”

“Nay!” he cried, “not me, not me; but rather those whose will I do. And

now go, my son, and ponder in thy heart, and in thy secret heart digest

my words; mark what thou shalt see, and gather up the dew of wisdom,

making thee ready for the battle. Fear not for thyself, thou art

protected from all ill. No harm may touch thee from without; thyself

alone can be thine own enemy. I have said.”

Then I went forth with a full heart. The night was very still, and none

were stirring in the temple courts. I hurried through them, and reached

the entrance to the pylon that is at the outer gate. Then, seeking

solitude, and, as it were, to draw near to heaven, I climbed the pylon’s

two hundred steps, until at length I reached the massive roof. Here I

leaned my breast against the parapet, and looked forth. As I looked,

the red edge of the full moon floated up over the Arabian hills, and

her rays fell upon the pylon where I stood and the temple walls beyond,

lighting the visages of the carven Gods. Then the cold light struck the

stretch of well-tilled lands, now whitening to the harvest, and as the

heavenly lamp of Isis passed up to the sky, her rays crept slowly down

to the valley, where Sihor, father of the land of Khem, rolls on toward

the sea.

Now the bright beams kissed the water that smiled an answer back, and

now mountain and valley, river, temple, town, and plain were flooded

with white light, for Mother Isis was arisen, and threw her gleaming

robe across the bosom of the earth. It was beautiful, with the beauty

of a dream, and solemn as the hour after death. Mightily, indeed, the

temples towered up against the face of night. Never had they seemed so

grand to me as in that hour--those eternal shrines, before whose walls

Time himself shall wither. And it was to be mine to rule this moonlit

land; mine to preserve those sacred shrines, and cherish the honour of

their Gods; mine to cast out the Ptolemy and free Egypt from the foreign

yoke! In my veins ran the blood of those great Kings who await the

day of Resurrection, sleeping in the tombs of the valley of Thebes.

My spirit swelled within me as I dreamed upon this glorious destiny,

I closed my hands, and there, upon the pylon, I prayed as I had never

prayed before to the Godhead, who is called by many names, and in many

forms made manifest.

“O Amen,” I prayed, “God of Gods, who hast been from the beginning; Lord

of Truth, who art, and of whom all are, who givest out thy Godhead and

gatherest it up again; in the circle of whom the Divine ones move

and are, who wast from all time the Self-begot, and who shalt be till

time--hearken unto me.[*]

[*] For a somewhat similar definition of the Godhead see the

funeral papyrus of Nesikhonsu, a Princess of the Twenty-

first Dynasty.--Editor.

“O Amen--Osiris, the sacrifice by whom we are justified, Lord of the

Region of the Winds, Ruler of the Ages, Dweller in the West, the Supreme

in Amenti, hearken unto me.

“O Isis, great Mother Goddess, mother of the Horus--mysterious Mother,

Sister, Spouse, hearken unto me. If, indeed, I am the chosen of the Gods

to carry out the purpose of the Gods, let a sign be given me, even now,

to seal my life to the life above. Stretch out your arms towards me, O

ye Gods, and uncover the glory of your countenance. Hear! ah, hear me!”

And I cast myself upon my knees and lifted up my eyes to heaven.

And as I knelt, a cloud grew upon the face of the moon covering it up,

so that the night became dark, and the silence deepened all around--even

the dogs far below in the city ceased to howl, while the silence grew

and grew till it was heavy as death. I felt my spirit lifted up within

me, and my hair rose upon my head. Then of a sudden the mighty pylon

seemed to rock beneath my feet, a great wind beat about my brows and a

voice spoke within my heart:

“Behold a sign! Possess thyself in patience, O Harmachis!”

And as the voice spoke, a cold hand touched my hand, and left somewhat

within it. Then the cloud rolled from the face of the moon, the wind

passed, the pylon ceased to tremble, and the night was as the night had

been.

As the light came back, I gazed upon that which had been left within my

hand. It was a bud of the holy lotus new breaking into bloom, and from

it came a most sweet scent.

And while I gazed behold! the lotus passed from my grasp and was gone,

leaving me astonished.

CHAPTER IV

OF THE DEPARTURE OF HARMACHIS AND OF HIS MEETING WITH HIS UNCLE SEPA,

THE HIGH PRIEST OF ANNU EL RA; OF HIS LIFE AT ANNU, AND OF THE WORDS OF

SEPA

At the dawning of the next day I was awakened by a priest of the temple,

who brought word to me to make ready for the journey of which my father

had spoken, inasmuch as there was an occasion for me to pass down the

river to Annu el Ra. Now this is the Heliopolis of the Greeks, whither I

should go in the company of some priests of Ptah at Memphis who had come

hither to Abouthis to lay the body of one of their great men in the tomb

that had been prepared near the resting place of the blessed Osiris.

So I made ready, and the same evening, having received letters and

embraced my father and those about the temple who were dear to me, I

passed down the banks of Sihor, and we sailed with the south wind.

As the pilot stood upon the prow and with a rod in his hand bade the

sailor-men loosen the stakes by which the vessel was moored to the

banks, the old wife, Atoua, hobbled up, her basket of simples in her

hand, and, calling out farewell, threw a sandal after me for good

chance, which sandal I kept for many years.

So we sailed, and for six days passed down the wonderful river, making

fast each night at some convenient spot. But when I lost sight of the

familiar things that I had seen day by day since I had eyes to see, and

found myself alone among strange faces, I felt very sore at heart, and

would have wept had I not been ashamed. And of all the wonderful things

I saw I will not write here, for, though they were new to me, have they

not been known to men since such time as the Gods ruled in Egypt? But

the priests who were with me showed me no little honour and expounded to

me what were the things I saw.

On the morning of the seventh day we came to Memphis, the city of

the White Hall. Here, for three days I rested from my journey and was

entertained of the priests of the wonderful Temple of Ptah the Creator,

and shown the beauties of the great and marvellous city. Also I was led

in secret by the High Priest and two others into the holy presence of

the God Apis, the Ptah who deigns to dwell among men in the form of a

bull. The God was black, and on his forehead there was a white square,

on his back was a white mark shaped like an eagle, beneath his tongue

was the likeness of a scarabæus, in his tail were double hairs, and a

plate of pure gold hung between his horns. I entered the place of the

God and worshipped, while the High Priest and those with him stood

aside, watching earnestly. And when I had worshipped, saying the words

which had been told me, the God knelt, and lay down before me. Then

the High Priest and those with him, who, as I heard in after time, were

great men of Upper Egypt, approached wondering, and, saying no word,

made obeisance to me because of the omen. And many other things I saw in

Memphis that are too long to write of here.

On the fourth day some priests of Annu came to lead me to Sepa, my

uncle, the High Priest of Annu. So, having bidden farewell to those of

Memphis, we crossed the river and rode on asses two parts of a day’s

journey through many villages, which we found in great poverty because

of the oppression of the tax-gatherers. Also, as we went, I saw for

the first time the great pyramids that are beyond the image of the God

Horemkhu, that Sphinx whom the Greeks name Harmachis, and the Temples of

the Divine Mother Isis, Queen of the Memnonia, and the God Osiris, Lord

of Rosatou, of which temples, together with the Temple of the worship

of the Divine Menkau-ra, I, Harmachis, am by right Divine the Hereditary

High Priest. I saw them and marvelled at their greatness and the white

carven limestone, and red granite of Syene, that flashed the sun’s rays

back to heaven. But at this time I knew nothing of the treasure that was

hid in _Her_, which is the third among the pyramids--would I had never

known of it!

And so at last we came within sight of Annu, which after Memphis has

been seen is no large town, but stands on raised ground, before which

are lakes fed by a canal. Behind the town is the inclosed field of the

Temple of the God Ra.

We dismounted at the pylon, and were met beneath the portico by a man

not great of stature, but of noble aspect, having his head shaven, and

with dark eyes that twinkled like the further stars.

“Hold!” he cried, in a great voice which fitted his weak body but ill.

“Hold! I am Sepa, who opens the mouth of the Gods!”

“And I,” I said, “am Harmachis, son of Amenemhat, Hereditary High Priest

and Ruler of the Holy City Abouthis; and I bear letters to thee, O

Sepa!”

“Enter,” he said. “Enter!” scanning me all the while with his twinkling

eyes. “Enter, my son!” And he took me and led me to a chamber in the

inner hall, closed to the door, and then, having glanced at the letters

that I brought, of a sudden he fell upon my neck and embraced me.

“Welcome,” he cried, “welcome, son of my own sister, and hope of Khem!

Not in vain have I prayed the Gods that I might live to look upon thy

face and impart to thee the wisdom which perchance I alone have mastered

of those who are left alive in Egypt. There are few whom it is lawful

that I should teach. But thine is the great destiny, and thine shall be

the ears to hear the lessons of the Gods.”

And he embraced me once more and bade me go bathe and eat, saying that

on the morrow he would speak with me further.

This of a truth he did, and at such length that I will forbear to set

down all he said both then and afterwards, for if I did so there would

be no papyrus left in Egypt when the task was ended. Therefore, having

much to tell and but little time to tell it, I will pass over the events

of the years that followed.

For this was the manner of my life. I rose early, I attended the worship

of the Temple, and I gave my days to study. I learnt of the rites of

religion and their meaning, and of the beginning of the Gods and the

beginning of the Upper World. I learnt of the mystery of the movements

of the stars, and of how the earth rolls on among them. I was instructed

in that ancient knowledge which is called magic, and in the way of

interpretation of dreams, and of the drawing nigh to God. I was taught

the language of symbols and their outer and inner secrets. I became

acquainted with the eternal laws of Good and Evil, and with the mystery

of that trust which is held of man; also I learnt the secrets of the

pyramids--which I would that I had never known. Further, I read the

records of the past, and of the acts and words of the ancient kings who

were before me since the rule of Horus upon earth; and I was made to

know all craft of state, the lore of earth, and with it the history of

Greece and Rome. Also I learnt the Grecian and Roman tongues, of which

indeed I already had some knowledge--and all this while, for five long

years, I kept my hands clean and my heart pure, and did no evil in the

sight of God or man; but laboured heavily to acquire all things, and to

prepare myself for the destiny that awaited me.

Twice every year greetings and letters came from my father Amenemhat,

and twice every year I sent back my answers asking if the time had come

to cease from labour. And so the days of my probation sped away till I

grew faint and weary at heart, for being now a man, ay and learned, I

longed to make a beginning of the life of men. And often I wondered if

this talk and prophecy of the things that were to be was but a dream

born of the brains of men whose wish ran before their thought. I was,

indeed, of the Royal blood, that I knew: for my uncle, Sepa the Priest,

showed me a secret record of the descent, traced without break from

father to son, and graven in mystic symbols on a tablet of the stone

of Syene. But of what avail was it to be Royal by right when Egypt, my

heritage, was a slave--a slave to do the pleasure and minister to the

luxury of the Macedonian Lagidæ--ay, and when she had been so long a

serf that, perchance, she had forgotten how to put off the servile smile

of Bondage and once more to look across the world with Freedom’s happy

eyes?

Then I bethought me of my prayer upon the pylon tower of Abouthis and of

the answer given to my prayer, and wondered if that, too, were a dream.

And one night, as, weary with study, I walked within the sacred grove

that is in the garden of the temple, and mused thus, I met my uncle

Sepa, who also was walking and thinking.

“Hold!” he cried in his great voice; “why is thy face so sad, Harmachis?

Has the last problem that we studied overwhelmed thee?”

“Nay, my uncle,” I answered, “I am overwhelmed indeed, but not of the

problem; it was a light one. My heart is heavy, for I am weary of life

within these cloisters, and the piled-up weight of knowledge crushes me.

It is of no avail to store up force which cannot be used.”

“Ah, thou art impatient, Harmachis,” he answered; “it is ever the way

of foolish youth. Thou wouldst taste of the battle; thou dost tire of

watching the breakers fall upon the beach, thou wouldst plunge into

them and venture the desperate hazard of the war. And so thou wouldst be

going, Harmachis? The bird would fly the nest as, when they are grown,

the swallows fly from the eaves of the Temple. Well, it shall be as

thou desirest; the hour is at hand. I have taught thee all that I have

learned, and methinks that the pupil has outrun his master,” and he

paused and wiped his bright black eyes, for he was very sad at the

thought of my departure.

“And whither shall I go, my uncle?” I asked rejoicing; “back to Abouthis

to be initiated into the mysteries of the Gods?”

“Ay, back to Abouthis, and from Abouthis to Alexandria, and from

Alexandria to the Throne of thy fathers, Harmachis! Listen, now; things

are thus: Thou knowest how Cleopatra, the Queen, fled into Syria when

that false eunuch Pothinus set the will of her father Aulêtes at naught

and raised her brother Ptolemy to the sole lordship of Egypt. Thou

knowest also how she came back, like a Queen indeed, with a great army

in her train, and lay at Pelusium, and how at this juncture the mighty

Cæsar, that great man, that greatest of all men, sailed with a weak

company hither to Alexandria from Pharsalia’s bloody field in hot

pursuit of Pompey. But he found Pompey already dead, having been basely

murdered by Achillas, the General, and Lucius Septimius, the chief of

the Roman legions in Egypt, and thou knowest how the Alexandrians were

troubled at his coming and would have slain his lictors. Then, as

thou hast heard, Cæsar seized Ptolemy, the young King, and his sister

Arsinoë, and bade the army of Cleopatra and the army of Ptolemy, under

Achillas, which lay facing each other at Pelusium, disband and go

their ways. And for answer Achillas marched on Cæsar, and besieged him

straitly in the Bruchium at Alexandria, and so, for a while, things

were, and none knew who should reign in Egypt. But then Cleopatra took

up the dice, and threw them, and this was the throw she made--in truth,

it was a bold one. For, leaving the army at Pelusium, she came at dusk

to the harbour of Alexandria, and alone with the Sicilian Apollodorus

entered and landed. Then Apollodorus bound her in a bale of rich rugs,

such as are made in Syria, and sent the rugs as a present to Cæsar. And

when the rugs were unbound in the palace, behold! within them was the

fairest girl on all the earth--ay, and the most witty and the most

learned. And she seduced the great Cæsar--even his weight of years did

not avail to protect him from her charms--so that, as a fruit of his

folly, he wellnigh lost his life, and all the glory he had gained in a

hundred wars.”

“The fool!” I broke in--“the fool! Thou callest him great; but how can

the man be truly great who has no strength to stand against a woman’s

wiles? Cæsar, with the world hanging on his word! Cæsar, at whose breath

forty legions marched and changed the fate of peoples! Cæsar the cold!

the far-seeing! the hero!--Cæsar to fall like a ripe fruit into a false

girl’s lap! Why, in the issue, of what common clay was this Roman Cæsar,

and how poor a thing!”

But Sepa looked at me and shook his head. “Be not so rash, Harmachis,

and talk not with so proud a voice. Knowest thou not that in every suit

of mail there is a joint, and woe to him who wears the harness if the

sword should search it out! For Woman, in her weakness, is yet the

strongest force upon the earth. She is the helm of all things human; she

comes in many shapes and knocks at many doors; she is quick and patient,

and her passion is not ungovernable like that of man, but as a gentle

steed that she can guide e’en where she will, and as occasion offers can

now bit up and now give rein. She has a captain’s eye, and stout must be

that fortress of the heart in which she finds no place of vantage. Does

thy blood beat fast in youth? She will outrun it, nor will her kisses

tire. Art thou set toward ambition? She will unlock thy inner heart,

and show thee roads that lead to glory. Art thou worn and weary? She has

comfort in her breast. Art thou fallen? She can lift thee up, and to the

illusion of thy sense gild defeat with triumph. Ay, Harmachis, she can

do these things, for Nature ever fights upon her side; and while she

does them she can deceive and shape a secret end in which thou hast

no part. And thus Woman rules the world. For her are wars; for her men

spend their strength in gathering gains; for her they do well and ill,

and seek for greatness, to find oblivion. But still she sits like yonder

Sphinx, and smiles; and no man has ever read all the riddle of her

smile, or known all the mystery of her heart. Mock not! mock not!

Harmachis; for he must be great indeed who can defy the power of Woman,

which, pressing round him like the invisible air, is often strongest

when the senses least discover it.”

I laughed aloud. “Thou speakest earnestly, my uncle Sepa,” I said;

“one might almost think that thou hadst not come unscathed through this

fierce fire of temptation. Well, for myself, I fear not woman and her

wiles; I know naught of them, and naught do I wish to know; and I still

hold that this Cæsar was a fool. Had I stood where Cæsar stood, to cool

its wantonness that bale of rugs should have been rolled down the palace

steps, into the harbour mud.”

“Nay, cease! cease!” he cried aloud. “It is evil to speak thus; may the

Gods avert the omen and preserve to thee this cold strength of which

thou boastest. Oh! man, thou knowest not!--thou in thy strength and

beauty that is without compare, in the power of thy learning and the

sweetness of thy tongue--thou knowest not! The world where thou must mix

is not a sanctuary as that of the Divine Isis. But there--it may be so!

Pray that thy heart’s ice may never melt, so thou shalt be great and

happy and Egypt shall be delivered. And now let me take up my tale--thou

seest, Harmachis, even in so grave a story woman claims her place. The

young Ptolemy, Cleopatra’s brother, being loosed of Cæsar, treacherously

turned on him. Then Cæsar and Mithridates stormed the camp of Ptolemy,

who took to flight across the river. But his boat was sunk by the

fugitives who pressed upon it, and such was the miserable end of

Ptolemy.

“Thereon, the war being ended, though she had but then borne him a son,

Cæsarion, Cæsar appointed the younger Ptolemy to rule with Cleopatra,

and be her husband in name, and he himself departed for Rome, bearing

with him the beautiful Princess Arsinoë to follow his triumph in her

chains. But the great Cæsar is no more. He died as he had lived, in

blood, and right royally. And but now Cleopatra, the Queen, if my

tidings may be trusted, has slain Ptolemy, her brother and husband, by

poison, and taken the child Cæsarion to be her fellow on the throne,

which she holds by the help of the Roman legions, and, as they say,

of young Sextus Pompeius, who has succeeded Cæsar in her love. But,

Harmachis, the whole land boils and seethes against her. In every city

the children of Khem talk of the deliverer who is to come--and thou art

he, Harmachis. The time is almost ripe. The hour is nigh at hand. Go

thou back to Abouthis and learn the last secrets of the Gods, and

meet those who shall direct the bursting of the storm. Then act,

Harmachis--act, I say, and strike home for Khem, rid the land of the

Roman and the Greek, and take thy place upon the throne of thy divine

fathers and be a King of men. For to this end thou wast born, O Prince!”

CHAPTER V

OF THE RETURN OF HARMACHIS TO ABOUTHIS; OF THE CELEBRATION OF THE

MYSTERIES; OF THE CHANT OF ISIS; AND OF THE WARNING OF AMENEMHAT

On the next day I embraced my uncle Sepa, and with an eager heart

departed from Annu back to Abouthis. To be short, I came thither in

safety, having been absent five years and a month, being now no more

a boy but a man full grown and having my mind well stocked with the

knowledge of men and the ancient wisdom of Egypt. So once again I

saw the old lands, and the known faces, though of these some few were

wanting, having been gathered to Osiris. Now, as, riding across the

fields, I came nigh to the enclosure of the Temple, the priests and

people issued forth to bid me welcome, and with them the old wife,

Atoua, who, but for a few added wrinkles that Time had cut upon her

forehead, was just as she had been when she threw the sandal after me

five long years before.

“_La! la! la!_” she cried; “and there thou art, my bonny lad; more bonny

even than thou wert! _La!_ what a man! what shoulders! and what a face

and form! Ah, it does an old woman credit to have dandled thee! But

thou art over-pale; those priests down there at Annu have starved thee,

surely? Starve not thyself: the Gods love not a skeleton. ‘Empty stomach

makes empty head’ as they say at Alexandria. But this is a glad hour;

ay, a joyous hour. Come in--come in!” and as I lighted down she embraced

me.

But I thrust her aside. “My father! where is my father?” I cried; “I see

him not!”

“Nay, nay, have no fear,” she answered; “his Holiness is well; he waits

thee in his chamber. There, pass on. O happy day! O happy Abouthis!”

So I went, or rather ran, and reached the chamber of which I have

written, and there at the table sat my father, Amenemhat, the same as he

had been, but very old. I came to him and, kneeling before him, kissed

his hand, and he blessed me.

“Look up, my son,” he said, “let my old eyes gaze upon thy face, that I

may read thy heart.”

So I lifted up my head, and he looked upon me long and earnestly.

“I read thee,” he said at length; “thou art pure and strong in wisdom;

I have not been deceived in thee. Oh, the years have been lonely; but I

did well to send thee hence. Now, tell me of thy life; for thy letters

have told me little, and thou canst not know, my son, how hungry is a

father’s heart.”

And so I told him; we sat far into the night and talked together. And

in the end he bade me know that I must now prepare to be initiated into

those last mysteries that are learned of the chosen of the Gods.

And so it came about that for a space of three months I prepared myself

according to the holy customs. I ate no meat. I was constant in the

sanctuaries, in the study of the secrets of the Great Sacrifice and of

the woe of the Holy Mother. I watched and prayed before the altars. I

lifted up my soul to God; ay, in dreams I communed with the Invisible,

till at length earth and earth’s desires seemed to pass from me. I

longed no more for the glory of this world, my heart hung above it as

an eagle on his outstretched wings, and the voice of the world’s blame

could not stir it, and the vision of its beauty brought no delight. For

above me was the vast vault of heaven, where in unalterable procession

the stars pass on, drawing after them the destinies of men; where the

Holy Ones sit upon their burning thrones, and watch the chariot-wheels

of Fate as they roll from sphere to sphere. O hours of holy

contemplation! who, having once tasted of your joy could wish again to

grovel on the earth? O vile flesh to drag us down! I would that thou

hadst then altogether fallen from me, and left my spirit free to seek

Osiris!

The months of probation passed but too swiftly, and now the holy day

drew near when I was in truth to be united to the universal Mother.

Never hath Night so longed for the promise of the Dawn; never hath the

heart of a lover so passionately desired the sweet coming of his bride,

as I longed to see Thy glorious face, O Isis! Even now that I have been

faithless to Thee, and Thou art far from me, O Divine! my soul goes out

to Thee, and once more I know----But as it is bidden that I should

draw the veil, and speak of things which have not been told since the

beginning of this world, let me pass on and reverently set down the

history of that holy morn.

For seven days the great festival had been celebrated, the suffering of

the Lord Osiris had been commemorated, the grief of the Mother Isis had

been sung and glory had been done to the memory of the coming of the

Divine Child Horus, the Son, the Avenger, the God-begot. All these

things had been carried out according to the ancient rites. The boats

had floated on the sacred lake, the priests had scourged themselves

before the sanctuaries, and the images had been borne through the

streets at night.

And now, as the sun sank on the seventh day, once more the great

procession gathered to chant the woes of Isis and tell how the evil was

avenged. We went in silence from the temple, and passed through the city

ways. First came those who clear the path, then my father Amenemhat in

all his priestly robes, and the wand of cedar in his hand. Then, clad

in pure linen, I, the neophyte, followed alone; and after me the

white-robed priests, holding aloft banners and emblems of the Gods. Next

came those who bear the sacred boat, and after them the singers and

the mourners; while, stretching as far as the eye could reach, all the

people marched, clad in melancholy black because Osiris was no more. We

went in silence through the city streets till at length we came to the

wall of the temple and passed in. And as my father, the High Priest,

entered beneath the gateway of the outer pylon, a sweet-voiced woman

singer began to sing the Holy Chant, and thus she sang:

“Sing we Osiris dead,

Lament the fallen head:

The light has left the world, the world is grey.

Athwart the starry skies

The web of Darkness flies,

And Isis weeps Osiris passed away.

Your tears, ye stars, ye fires, ye rivers, shed,

Weep, children of the Nile, weep for your Lord is dead!”

She paused in her most sweet song, and the whole multitude took up the

melancholy dirge:

“Softly we tread, our measured footsteps falling

Within the Sanctuary Sevenfold;

Soft on the Dead that liveth are we calling:

‘Return, Osiris, from thy Kingdom cold!

Return to them that worship thee of old!’”

The chorus ceased, and once again she sang:

“Within the court divine

The Sevenfold sacred shrine

We pass, while echoes of the Temple walls

Repeat the long lament

The sound of sorrow sent

Far up within the imperishable halls,

Where, each in the other’s arms, the Sisters weep,

Isis and Nephthys, o’er His unawaking sleep.”

And then again rolled forth the solemn chorus of a thousand voices:

“Softly we tread, our measured footsteps falling

Within the Sanctuary Sevenfold;

Soft on the Dead that liveth are we calling:

‘Return, Osiris, from thy Kingdom cold!

Return to them that worship thee of old!’”

It ceased, and sweetly she took up the song:

“O dweller in the West,

Lover and Lordliest,

Thy love, thy Sister Isis, calls thee home!

Come from thy chamber dun

Thou Master of the Sun,

Thy shadowy chamber far below the foam!

With weary wings and spent

Through all the firmament,

Through all the horror-haunted ways of Hell,

I seek thee near and far,

From star to wandering star,

Free with the dead that in Amenti dwell.

I search the height, the deep, the lands, the skies,

Rise from the dead and live, our Lord Osiris, rise!”

“Softly we tread, our measured footsteps falling

Within the Sanctuary Sevenfold;

Soft on the Dead that liveth are we calling:

‘Return, Osiris, from thy Kingdom cold!

Return to them that worship thee of old!’”

Now in a strain more high and glad the singer sang:

“He wakes--from forth the prison

We sing Osiris risen,

We sing the child that Nout conceived and bare.

Thine own love, Isis, waits

The Warden of the Gates,

She breathes the breath of Life on breast and hair,

And in her breast and breath

Behold! he waketh,

Behold! at length he riseth out of rest;

Touched with her holy hands,

The Lord of all the Lands,

He stirs, he rises from her breath, her breast!

But thou, fell Typhon, fly,

The judgment day drawn nigh,

Fleet on thy track as flame speeds Horus from the sky.”

“Softly we tread, our measured footsteps falling

Within the Sanctuary Sevenfold;

Soft on the Dead that liveth are we calling:

‘Return, Osiris, from thy Kingdom cold!

Return to them that worship thee of old!’”

Once more, as we bowed before the Holy, she sang, and sent the full

breath of her glad music ringing up the everlasting walls till the

silence quivered with her round notes of melody, and the hearts of those

who hearkened stirred strangely in the breast. And thus, as we walked,

she sang the song of Osiris risen, the song of Hope, the song of

Victory:

“Sing we the Trinity,

Sing we the Holy Three,

Sing we, and praise we and worship the Throne,

Throne that our Lord hath set--

There peace and truth are met

There in the Halls of the Holy alone!

There in the shadowings

Faint of the folded wings,

There shall we dwell and rejoice in our rest,

We that thy servants are!

Horus drive ill afar!

Far in the folds of the dark of the West!”

Again, as her notes died away, thundered forth the chorus of all the

voices:

“Softly we tread, our measured footsteps falling

Within the Sanctuary Sevenfold;

Soft on the Dead that liveth are we calling:

‘Return, Osiris, from thy Kingdom cold!

Return to them that worship thee of old!’”

The chanting ceased, and as the sun sank the High Priest raised the

statue of the living God and held it before the multitude that was now

gathered in the court of the temple. Then, with a mighty and joyful

shout of:

“_Osiris our hope! Osiris! Osiris!_”

the people tore their black wrappings from their dress, revealing the

white robes they wore beneath, and, as one man, they bowed before the

God, and the feast was ended.

But for me the ceremony was only begun, for to-night was the night of my

initiation. Leaving the inner court I bathed myself, and, clad in pure

linen, passed, as it is ordained, into an inner, but not the inmost,

sanctuary, and laid the accustomed offerings on the altar. Then,

lifting my hands to heaven, I remained for many hours in contemplation,

striving, by holy thoughts and prayer, to gather up my strength against

the mighty moment of my trial.

The hours sped slowly in the silence of the temple, till at length the

door opened and my father Amenemhat, the High Priest, came in, clad

in white, and leading by the hand the Priest of Isis. For, having been

married, he did not himself enter into the mysteries of the Holy Mother.

I rose to my feet and stood humbly before them.

“Art thou ready?” said the priest, lifting the lamp he held so that its

light fell upon my face. “O thou chosen one, art thou ready to see the

glory of the Goddess face to face?”

“I am ready,” I answered.

“Behold thee,” he said again, in solemn tones, “it is no small thing. If

thou wilt carry out this thy last desire, understand, royal Harmachis,

that now this very night thou must die for a while in the flesh, what

time thy soul shall look on spiritual things. And if thou diest and any

evil shall be found within thy heart, when thou comest at last into that

awful presence, woe unto thee, Harmachis, for the breath of life shall

no more enter in at the gateway of thy mouth, thy body shall utterly

perish, and what shall befall thy other parts, if I know, I may not

say.[*] Art thou prepared to be taken to the breast of Her who Was and

Is and Shall Be, and in all things to do Her holy will; for Her, while

she shall so command, to put away the thought of earthly woman; and to

labour always for Her glory till at the end thy life is gathered to Her

eternal life?”

[*] According to the Egyptian religion the being Man is

composed of four parts: the body, the double or astral shape

(_ka_), the soul (_bi_), and the spark of life sprung from

the Godhead (_khou_).--Editor.

“I am,” I answered; “lead on.”

“It is well,” said the priest. “Noble Amenemhat, we go hence alone.”

“Farewell, my son,” said my father; “be firm and triumph over things

spiritual as thou shalt triumph over things earthly. He who would truly

rule the world must first be lifted up above the world. He must be at

one with God, for thus only shall he learn the secrets of the Divine.

But beware! The Gods demand much of those who dare to enter the circle

of their Divinity. If they go back therefrom, they shall be judged of a

sharper law, and scourged with a heavier rod, for as their glory is, so

shall their shame be. Therefore, make thy heart strong, royal Harmachis!

And when thou speedest down the ways of Night and enterest the Holies,

remember that from him to whom great gifts have been given shall gifts

be required again. And now--if, indeed, thy mind be fixed--go whither it

is not as yet given me to follow thee. Farewell!”

For a moment as my heart weighed these heavy words, I wavered, as well

as I might. But I was filled with longing to be gathered to the company

of the Divine ones, and I knew that I had no evil in me, and desired to

do only the thing that is just. Therefore, having with so much labour

drawn the bowstring to my ear, I was fain to let fly the shaft. “Lead

on,” I cried with a loud voice; “lead on, thou holy Priest! I follow

thee!”

And we went forth.

CHAPTER VI

OF THE INITIATION OF HARMACHIS; OF HIS VISIONS; OF HIS PASSING TO THE

CITY THAT IS IN THE PLACE OF DEATH; AND OF THE DECLARATIONS OF ISIS, THE

MESSENGER

In silence we passed into the Shrine of Isis. It was dark and bare--only

the feeble light from the lamp gleamed faintly upon the sculptured

walls, where, in a hundred effigies, the Holy Mother suckled the Holy

Child.

The priest closed the doors and bolted them. “Once again,” he said, “art

thou ready, Harmachis?”

“Once again,” I answered, “I am ready.”

He spoke no more; but, having lifted up his hands in prayer, led me to

the centre of the Holy, and with a swift motion put out the lamp.

“Look before thee, Harmachis!” he cried; and his voice sounded hollow in

the solemn place.

I gazed and saw nothing. But from the niche that is high in the wall,

where is hid that sacred symbol of the Goddess on which few may look,

there came a sound as of the rattling rods of the sistrum.[*] And as I

listened, awestruck, behold! I saw the outline of the symbol drawn as

with fire upon the blackness of the air. It hung above my head, and

rattled while it hung. And, as it turned, I clearly saw the face of

the Mother Isis that is graven on the one side, and signifies unending

Birth, and the face of her holy sister, Nephthys, that is graven on the

other, and signifies the ending of all birth in Death.

[*] A musical instrument peculiarly sacred to Isis of which

the shape and rods had a mystic significance.--Editor.

Slowly it turned and swung as though some mystic dancer trod the air

above me, and shook it in her hand. But at length the light went out,

and the rattling ceased.

Then of a sudden the end of the chamber became luminous, and in that

white light I beheld picture after picture. I saw the ancient Nile

rolling through deserts to the sea. There were no men upon its banks,

nor any signs of man, nor any temples to the Gods. Only wild birds moved

on Sihor’s lonely face, and monstrous brutes plunged and wallowed in his

waters. The sun sank in majesty behind the Libyan Desert and stained

the waters red; the mountains towered up towards the silent sky; but in

mountain, desert, and river there was no sign of human life. Then I knew

that I saw the world as it had been before man was, and a terror of its

loneliness entered my soul.

The picture passed and another rose up in its place. Once again I saw

the banks of Sihor, and on them crowded wild-faced creatures, partaking

of the nature of the ape more than of the nature of mankind. They fought

and slew each other. The wild birds sprang up in affright as the fire

leapt from reed huts given by foemen’s hands to flame and pillage. They

stole and rent and murdered, dashing out the brains of children with

axes of stone. And, though no voice told me, I knew that I saw man as

he was tens of thousands of years ago, when first he marched across the

earth.

Yet another picture. Again I beheld the banks of Sihor; but on them fair

cities bloomed like flowers. In and out their gates went men and women,

passing to and fro from wide, well-tilled lands. But I saw no guards or

armies, and no weapons of war. All was wisdom, prosperity, and peace.

And while I wondered, a glorious Figure, clad in raiment that shone

as flame, came from the gates of a shrine, and the sound of music went

before and followed after him. He mounted an ivory throne which was set

in a market-place facing the water: and as the sun sank called in

all the multitudes to prayer. With one voice they prayed, bending in

adoration. And I understood that herein was shown the reign of the Gods

on earth, which was long before the days of Menes.

A change came over the dream. Still the same fair city, but other

men--men with greed and evil on their faces--who hated the bonds of

righteous doing, and set their hearts on sin. The evening came; the

glorious Figure mounted the throne and called to prayer, but none bowed

themselves in adoration.

“We are aweary of thee!” they cried. “Make Evil King! Slay him! slay

him! and loose the bonds of Evil! Make Evil King!”

The glorious Shape rose up, gazing with mild eyes upon those wicked men.

“Ye know not what ye ask,” he cried; “but as ye will, so be it! For if

I die, by me, after much travail, shall ye once again find a path to the

Kingdom of Good!”

Even as he spoke, a Form, foul and hideous to behold, leapt upon him,

cursing, slew him, tore him limb from limb, and amidst the clamour of

the people sat himself upon the throne and ruled. But a Shape whose

face was veiled passed down from heaven on shadowy wings, and with

lamentations gathered up the rent fragments of the Being. A moment she

bent herself upon them, then lifted up her hands and wept. And as she

wept, behold! from her side there sprang a warrior armed and with a

face like the face of Ra at noon. He, the Avenger, hurled himself with

a shout upon the Monster who had usurped the throne, and they closed in

battle, and, struggling ever in a strait embrace, passed upward to the

skies.

Then came picture after picture. I saw Powers and Peoples clad in

various robes and speaking many tongues. I saw them pass and pass in

millions--loving, hating, struggling, dying. Some few were happy and

some had woe stamped upon their faces; but most bore not the seal of

happiness nor of woe, but rather that of patience. And ever as they

passed from age to age, high above in the heavens the Avenger fought

on with the Evil Thing, while the scale of victory swung now here now

there. But neither conquered, nor was it given to me to know how the

battle ended.

And I understood that what I had beheld was the holy vision of the

struggle between the Good and the Evil Powers. I saw that man was

created vile, but Those who are above took pity on him, and came down

to him to make him good and happy, for the two things are one thing. But

man returned to his wicked way, and then the bright Spirit of Good, who

is of us called Osiris, but who has many names, offered himself up for

the evil-doing of the race that had dethroned him. And from him and the

Divine Mother, of whom all nature is, sprang another spirit who is the

Protector of us on earth, as Osiris is our justifier in Amenti.

For this is the mystery of the Osiris.

Of a sudden, as I saw the visions, these things became clear to me. The

mummy cloths of symbol and of ceremony that wrap Osiris round fell from

him, and I understood the secret of religion, which is Sacrifice.

The pictures passed, and again the priest, my guide, spoke to me.

“Hast thou understood, Harmachis, those things which it has been granted

thee to see?”

“I have,” I said. “Are the rites ended?”

“Nay, they are but begun. That which follows thou must endure alone!

Behold I leave thee, to return at the morning light. Once more I warn

thee. That which thou shalt see, few may look upon and live. In all my

days I have known but three who dared to face this dread hour, and of

those three at dawn but one was found alive. Myself, I have not trod

this path. It is too high for me.”

“Depart,” I said; “my soul is athirst for knowledge. I will dare it.”

He laid his hand upon my shoulder and blessed me. He went. I heard the

door shut to behind him, the echoes of his footsteps slowly died away.

Then I felt that I was alone, alone in the Holy Place with Things

which are not of the earth. Silence fell--silence deep and black as the

darkness which was around me. The silence fell, it gathered as the cloud

gathered on the face of the moon that night when, a lad, I prayed upon

the pylon towers. It gathered denser and yet more dense till it seemed

to creep into my heart and call aloud therein; for utter silence has

a voice that is more terrible than any cry. I spoke; the echoes of my

words came back upon me from the walls and seemed to beat me down. The

stillness was lighter to endure than an echo such as this. What was I

about to see? Should I die, even now, in the fulness of my youth and

strength? Terrible were the warnings that had been given to me. I was

fear-stricken, and bethought me that I would fly. Fly!--fly whither? The

temple door was barred; I could not fly. I was alone with the Godhead,

alone with the Power that I had invoked. Nay, my heart was pure--my

heart was pure. I would face the terror that was to come, ay, even

though I died.

“Isis, Holy Mother,” I prayed. “Isis, Spouse of Heaven, come unto me, be

with me now; I faint! be with me now.”

And then I knew that things were not as things had been. The air around

me began to stir, it rustled as the wings of eagles rustle, it took

life. Bright eyes gazed upon me, strange whispers shook my soul. Upon

the darkness were bars of light. They changed and interchanged, they

moved to and fro and wove mystic symbols which I could not read.

Swifter and swifter flew that shuttle of the light: the symbols grouped,

gathered, faded, gathered yet again, faster and still more fast, till my

eyes could count them no more. Now I was afloat upon a sea of glory; it

surged and rolled, as the ocean rolls; it tossed me high, it brought me

low. Glory was piled on glory, splendour heaped on splendour’s head, and

I rode above it all!

Soon the lights began to pale in the rolling sea of air. Great shadows

shot across it, lines of darkness pierced it and rushed together on its

breast, till, at length, I was only a Shape of Flame set like a star on

the bosom of immeasurable night. Bursts of awful music gathered from far

away. Miles and miles away I heard them, thrilling faintly through the

gloom. On they came, nearer and more near, louder and more loud, till

they swept past, above, below, around me, swept on rushing pinions,

terrifying and enchanting me. They floated by, ever growing fainter,

till they died in space. Then others came, and no two were akin. Some

rattled as ten thousand sistra shaken all to tune. Some rank from the

brazen throats of unnumbered clarions. Some pealed with a loud, sweet

chant of voices that were more than human; and some rolled along in the

slow thunder of a million drums. They passed; their notes were lost in

dying echoes; and the silence once more pressed in upon me and overcame

me.

The strength within me began to fail. I felt my life ebbing at its

springs. Death drew near to me and his shape was _Silence_. He entered

at my heart, entered with a sense of numbing cold, but my brain was

still alive, I could yet think. I knew that I was drawing near the

confines of the Dead. Nay, I was dying fast, and oh, the horror of it!

I strove to pray and could not; there was no more time for prayer. One

struggle and the stillness crept into my brain. The terror passed; an

unfathomable weight of sleep pressed me down. I was dying, I was dying,

and then--nothingness!

_I was dead!_

A change--life came back to me, but between the new life and the life

that had been was a gulf and difference. Once again I stood in the

darkness of the shrine, but it blinded me no more. It was clear as the

light of day, although it still was black. I stood; and yet it was not

I who stood, but rather my spiritual part, for at my feet lay my dead

Self. There it lay, rigid and still, a stamp of awful calm sealed upon

its face, while I gazed on it.

And as I gazed, filled with wonder, I was caught up on the Wings of

Flame and whirled away! away! faster than the lightnings flash. Down I

fell, through depths of empty space set here and there with glittering

crowns of stars. Down for ten million miles and ten times ten million,

till at length I hovered over a place of soft, unchanging light, wherein

were Temples, Palaces, and Abodes, such as no man ever saw in the

visions of his sleep. They were built of Flame, and they were built of

Blackness. Their spires pierced up and up; their great courts stretched

around. Even as I hovered they changed continually to the eye; what was

Flame became Blackness, what was Blackness became Flame. Here was the

flash of crystal, and there the blaze of gems shone even through the

glory that rolls around the city which is in the Place of Death. There

were trees, and their voice as they rustled was the voice of music;

there was air, and, as it blew, its breath was the sobbing notes of

song.

Shapes, changing, mysterious, wonderful, rushed up to meet me, and bore

me down till I seemed to stand upon another earth.

“Who comes?” cried a great Voice.

“Harmachis,” answered the Shapes, that changed continually. “Harmachis

who hath been summoned from the earth to look upon the face of Her that

Was and Is and Shall Be. Harmachis, Child of Earth!”

“Throw back the Gates and open wide the Doors!” pealed the awful Voice.

“Throw back the Gates and open wide the Doors; seal up his lips in

silence, lest his voice jar upon the harmonies of Heaven, take away his

sight lest he see that which may not be seen, and let Harmachis, who

hath been summoned, pass down the path that leads to the place of the

Unchanging. Pass on, Child of Earth; but before thou goest, look up that

thou mayest learn how far thou art removed from Earth.”

I looked up. Beyond the glory that shone about the city was black night,

and high on its bosom twinkled one tiny star.

“Behold the world that thou hast left,” said the Voice, “behold and

tremble.”

Then my lips and eyes were sealed with silence and with darkness, so

that I was dumb and blind. The Gates rolled back, the Doors swung wide,

and I was swept into the city that is in the Place of Death. I was swept

swiftly I know not whither, till at length I stood upon my feet. Again

the great Voice pealed:

“Draw the veil of blackness from his eyes, unseal the silence on his

lips, that Harmachis, Child of Earth, may see, hear, and understand, and

make adoration at the Shrine of Her that Was and Is and Shall Be.”

And my lips and eyes were touched once more, so that my sight and speech

came back.

Behold! I stood within a hall of blackest marble, so lofty that even

in the rosy light scarce could my vision reach the great groins of the

roof. Music wailed about its spaces, and all adown its length stood

winged Spirits fashioned in living fire, and such was the brightness of

their forms that I could not look on them. In its centre was an altar,

small and square, and I stood before the empty altar. Then again the

Voice cried:

“O Thou that hast been, art, and shalt be; Thou who, having many names,

art yet without a name; Measurer of Time; Messenger of God; Guardian of

the Worlds and the Races that dwell thereon; Universal Mother born of

Nothingness; Creatix uncreated; Living Splendour without Form, Living

Form without Substance; Servant of the Invisible; Child of Law; Holder

of the Scales and Sword of Fate; Vessel of Life, through whom all Life

flows, to whom it again is gathered; Recorder of Things Done; Executrix

of Decrees--_Hear!_

“Harmachis the Egyptian, who by Thy will hath been summoned from

the earth, waits before Thine Altar, with ears unstopped, with

eyes unsealed, and with an open heart. Hear and descend! Descend, O

Many-shaped! Descend in Flame! Descend in Sound! Descend in Spirit! Hear

and descend!”

The Voice ceased and there was silence. Then through the silence came

a sound like the booming of the sea. It passed and presently, moved

thereto by I know not what, I raised my eyes from my hands with which I

had covered them, and saw a small dark cloud hanging over the Altar in

and out of which a fiery Serpent climbed.

Then all the Spirits clad in light fell upon the marble floor, and with

a loud voice adored; but what they said I could not understand. Behold!

the dark cloud came down and rested on the Altar, the Serpent of fire

stretched itself towards me, touched me on the forehead with its forky

tongue and was gone. From within the cloud a Voice sweet and low and

clear spoke in heavenly accents:

“Depart, ye Ministers, leave Me with my son whom I have summoned.”

Then like arrows rushing from a bow the flame-clad Spirits leapt from

the ground and sped away.

“O Harmachis,” said the Voice, “be not afraid, I am She whom thou dost

know as Isis of the Egyptians; but what else I am strive not thou

to learn, it is beyond thy strength. For I am all things, Life is my

spirit, and Nature is my raiment. I am the laughter of the babe, I am

the maiden’s love, I am the mother’s kiss. I am the Child and Servant of

the Invisible that is God, that is Law, that is Fate--though myself I be

not God and Fate and Law. When winds blow and oceans roar upon the

face of the Earth thou hearest my voice; when thou gazest on the starry

firmament thou seest my countenance; when the spring blooms out in

flowers, that is my smile, Harmachis. For I am Nature’s self, and all

her shapes are shapes of Me. I breathe in all that breathes. I wax and

wane in the changeful moon: I grow and gather in the tides: I rise with

the suns: I flash with the lightning and thunder in the storms. Nothing

is too great for the measure of my majesty, nothing is so small that

I cannot find a home therein. I am in thee and thou art in Me, O

Harmachis. That which bade thee be bade Me also be. Therefore, though I

am great and thou art little, have no fear. For we are bound together

by the common bond of life--that life which flows through suns and stars

and spaces, through Spirits and the souls of men, welding all Nature to

a whole that, changing ever, is yet eternally the same.”

I bowed my head--I could not speak, for I was afraid.

“Faithfully hast thou served Me, O my son,” went on the low sweet Voice;

“greatly thou hast longed to be brought face to face with Me here in

Amenti; and greatly hast thou dared to accomplish thy desire. For it is

no small thing to cast off the tabernacle of the Flesh and before the

appointed time, if only for an hour, put on the raiment of the Spirit.

And greatly, O my servant and my son, have I, too, desired to look on

thee there where I am. For the Gods love those who love them, but with a

wider and deeper love, and under One who is as far from Me as I am from

thee, mortal, I am a God of Gods. Therefore I have caused thee to be

brought hither, Harmachis; and therefore I speak to thee, my son, and

bid thee commune with Me now face to face, as thou didst commune that

night upon the temple towers of Abouthis. For I was there with thee,

Harmachis, as I was in ten thousand other worlds. It was I, O Harmachis,

who laid the lotus in thy hand, giving thee the sign which thou didst

seek. For thou art of the kingly blood of my children who served Me from

age to age. And if thou dost not fail thou shalt sit upon that kingly

throne and restore my ancient worship in its purity, and sweep my

temples from their defilements. But if thou dost fail, then shall the

eternal Spirit Isis become but a memory in Egypt.”

The Voice paused; and, gathering up my strength, at length I spoke

aloud:

“Tell me, O Holy,” I said, “shall I then fail?”

“Ask Me not,” answered the Voice, “that which it is not lawful that I

should answer thee. Perchance I can read that which shall befall thee,

perchance it doth not please Me so to read. What can it profit the

Divine, that hath all time wherein to await the issues, to be eager to

look upon the blossom that is not blown, but which, lying a seed in the

bosom of the earth, shall blow in its season? Know, Harmachis, that I

do not shape the Future; the Future is to thee and not to Me; for it is

born of Law and of the rule ordained of the Invisible. Yet thou art free

to act therein, and thou shalt win or thou shalt fail according to thy

strength and the measure of thy heart’s purity. Thine be the burden,

Harmachis, as thine in the event shall be the glory or the shame. Little

do I reck of the issue, I who am but the Minister of what is written.

Now hear me: I will always be with thee, my son, for my love once

given can never be taken away, though by sin it may seem lost to thee.

Remember then this: if thou dost triumph, thy guerdon shall be great; if

thou dost fail, heavy indeed shall be thy punishment both in the flesh

and in the land that thou callest Amenti. Yet this for thy comfort:

shame and agony shall not be eternal. For however deep the fall from

righteousness, if but repentance holds the heart, there is a path--a

stony and a cruel path--whereby the height may be climbed again. Let it

not be thy lot to follow it, Harmachis!

“And now, because thou hast loved Me, my son, and, wandering through the

maze of fable, wherein men lose themselves upon the earth, mistaking the

substance for the Spirit, and the Altar for the God, hast yet grasped a

clue of Truth the Many-faced; and because I love thee and look on to

the day that, perchance, shall come when thou shalt dwell blessed in my

light and in the doing of my tasks: because of this, I say, it shall be

given to thee, O Harmachis, to hear the Word whereby I may be summoned

from the Uttermost, by one who hath communed with Me, and to look upon

the face of Isis--even into the eyes of the Messenger, and not die the

death.

“_Behold!_”

The sweet Voice ceased; the dark cloud upon the altar changed and

changed--it grew white, it shone, and seemed at length to take the

shrouded shape of a woman. Then the golden Snake crept from its heart

once more, and, like a living diadem, twined itself about the cloudy

brows.

Now suddenly a Voice called aloud the awful Word, then the vapours burst

and melted, and with my eyes I saw that Glory, at the very thought of

which my spirit faints. But what I saw it is not lawful to utter. For,

though I have been bidden to write what I have written of this matter,

perchance that a record may remain, thereon I have been warned--ay, even

now, after these many years. I saw, and what I saw cannot be imagined;

for there are Glories and there are Shapes which are beyond the reach

of man’s imagination. I saw--then, with the echo of that Word, and the

memory of that sight stamped for ever on my heart, my spirit failed me,

and I sank down before the Glory.

And, as I fell, it seemed that the great hall burst open and crumbled

into flakes of fire round me. Then a great wind blew: there was a sound

as the sound of Worlds rushing down the flood of Time--and I knew no

more!

CHAPTER VII

OF THE AWAKING OF HARMACHIS; OF THE CEREMONY OF HIS CROWNING AS PHARAOH

OF THE UPPER AND THE LOWER LAND; AND OF THE OFFERINGS MADE TO PHARAOH

Once again I woke--to find myself stretched at length upon the stone

flooring of the Holy Place of Isis that is at Abouthis. By me stood the

old Priest of the Mysteries, and in his hand was a lamp. He bent over

me, and gazed earnestly upon my face.

“It is day--the day of thy new birth, and thou hast lived to see

it, Harmachis!” he said at length. “I give thanks. Arise, royal

Harmachis--nay, tell me naught of that which has befallen thee. Arise,

beloved of the Holy Mother. Come forth, thou who hast passed the fire

and learned what lies behind the darkness--come forth, O newly-born!”

I rose and, walking faintly, went with him, and, passing out of the

darkness of the Shrines filled with thought and wonder, came once more

into the pure light of the morning. And then I went to my own chamber

and slept; nor did any dreams come to trouble me. But no man--not even

my father--asked me aught of what I saw upon that dread night, or after

what fashion I had communed with the Goddess.

After these things which have been written, I applied myself for a

space to the worship of the Mother Isis, and to the further study of the

outward forms of those mysteries to which I now held the key. Moreover,

I was instructed in matters politic, for many great men of our following

came secretly to see me from all quarters of Egypt, and told me much

of the hatred of the people towards Cleopatra, the Queen, and of other

things. At last the hour drew nigh; it was three months and ten days

from the night when, for a while, I left the flesh, and yet living with

our life, was gathered to the breast of Isis, on which it was agreed

that with due and customary rites, although in utter secrecy, I should

be called to the throne of the Upper and the Lower Land. So it came

about that, as the solemn time drew nigh, great men of the party of

Egypt gathered to the number of thirty-seven from every nome, and each

great city of their nome, meeting together at Abouthis. They came in

every guise--some as priests, some as pilgrims to the Shrine, and some

as beggars. Among them was my uncle, Sepa, who, though he clad himself

as a travelling doctor, had much ado to keep his loud voice from

betraying him. Indeed, I myself knew him by it, meeting him as I walked

in thought upon the banks of the canal, although it was then dusk and

the great cape, which, after the fashion of such doctors, he had thrown

about his head, half hid his face.

“A pest on thee!” he cried, when I greeted him by his name. “Cannot a

man cease to be himself for a single hour? Didst thou but know the pains

that it has cost me to learn to play this part--and now thou readest who

I am even in the dark!”

And then, still talking in his loud voice, he told me how he had

travelled hither on foot, the better to escape the spies who ply to and

fro upon the river. But he said he should return by the water, or take

another guise; for since he had come as a doctor he had been forced to

play a doctor’s part, knowing but little of the arts of medicine; and,

as he greatly feared, there were many between Annu and Abouthis who had

suffered from it.[*] And he laughed loudly and embraced me, forgetting

his part. For he was too whole at heart to be an actor and other than

himself, and would have entered Abouthis with me holding my hand, had I

not chid him for his folly.

[*] In Ancient Egypt an unskilful or negligent physician was

liable to very heavy penalties.--Editor.

At length all were gathered.

It was night, and the gates of the temple were shut. None were left

within them, except the thirty-seven; my father, the High Priest

Amenemhat; that aged priest who had led me to the Shrine of Isis; the

old wife, Atoua, who, according to ancient custom, was to prepare me

for the anointing; and some five other priests, sworn to secrecy by that

oath which none may break. They gathered in the second hall of the great

temple; but I remained alone, clad in my white robe, in the passage

where are the names of six-and-seventy ancient Kings, who were before

the day of the divine Sethi. There I rested in darkness, till at length

my father, Amenemhat, came, bearing a lamp, and, bowing low before me,

led me by the hand forth into the great hall. Here and there, between

its mighty pillars, lights were burning that dimly showed the sculptured

images upon the walls, and dimly fell upon the long line of the

seven-and-thirty Lords, Priests, and Princes, who, seated upon carven

chairs, awaited my coming in silence. Before them, facing away from

the seven Sanctuaries, a throne was set, around which stood the priests

holding the sacred images and banners. As I came into the dim and holy

place, the Dignitaries rose, and bowed before me, speaking no word;

while my father led me to the steps of the throne, and in a low voice

bade me stand before it.

Then he spoke:

“Lords, Priests, and Princes of the ancient orders of the land of

Khem--Nobles from the Upper and the Lower Country, have gathered

in answer to my summons, hear me: I present to you, with such scant

formality as the occasion can afford, the Prince Harmachis, by right and

true descent of blood the descendant and heir of the ancient Pharaohs

of our most unhappy land. He is priest of the inmost circle of the

Mysteries of the Divine Isis, Master of the Mysteries--Hereditary Priest

of the Pyramids, which are by Memphis, Instructed in the Solemn Rites

of the Holy Osiris. Is there any among you who has aught to urge against

the true line of his blood?”

He paused, and my uncle Sepa, rising from his chair, spoke: “We have

made examination of the records and there is none, O Amenemhat. He is of

the Royal blood, his descent is true.”

“Is there any among you,” went on my father, “who can deny that this

royal Harmachis, by sanction of the very Gods, has been gathered

to Isis, been shown the way of the Osiris, been admitted to be the

Hereditary High Priest of the Pyramids which are by Memphis, and of the

Temples of the Pyramids?”

Then that old priest rose who had been my guide in the Sanctuary of the

Mother and made answer: “There is none; O Amenemhat; I know these things

of my own knowledge.”

Once more my father spoke: “Is there any among you who has aught to urge

against this royal Harmachis, in that by wickedness of heart or life, by

uncleanliness or falsity, it is not fit or meet that we should crown him

Lord of all the Lands?”

Then an aged Prince of Memphis arose and made answer:

“We have inquired of these matters: there is none, O Amenemhat.”

“It is well,” said my father; “then naught is wanting in the Prince

Harmachis, seed of Nekt-nebf, the Osirian. Let the woman Atoua stand

forth and tell this company those things that came to pass when, at

the hour of her death, she who was my wife prophesied over this Prince,

being filled with the Spirit of the Hathors.”

Thereon old Atoua crept forward from the shadow of the columns, and

earnestly told those things that have been written.

“Ye have heard,” said my father: “do you believe that the woman who was

my wife spake with the Divine voice?”

“We do,” they answered.

Now my uncle Sepa rose and spoke:

“Royal Harmachis, thou hast heard. Know now that we are gathered here

to crown thee King of the Upper and the Lower Lands--thy holy father,

Amenemhat, renouncing all his right on thy behalf. We are met, not,

indeed, in that pomp and ceremony which is due to the occasion--for what

we do must be done in secret, lest our lives, and the cause that is more

dear to us than life, should pay the forfeit--but yet with such dignity

and observance of the ancient rites as our circumstance may command.

Learn, now, how this matter hangs, and if, after learning, thy mind

consents thereto, then mount thy throne, O Pharaoh--and swear the oath!

“Long has Khemi groaned beneath the mailed heel of the Greek, and

trembled at the shadow of the Roman’s spear; long has the ancient

worship of its Gods been desecrated, and its people crushed with

oppression. But we believe that the hour of deliverance is at hand,

and with the solemn voice of Egypt and by the ancient Gods of Egypt, to

whose cause thou art of all men bound, we call upon thee, Prince, to be

the sword of our deliverance. Hearken! Twenty thousand good and leal men

are sworn to wait upon thy word, and at thy signal to rise as one, to

put the Grecian to the sword, and with their blood and substance to

build thee a throne set more surely on the soil of Khem than are its

ancient pyramids--such a throne as shall even roll the Roman legions

back. And for the signal, it shall be the death of that bold harlot,

Cleopatra. Thou must compass her death, Harmachis, in such fashion as

shall be shown to thee, and with her blood anoint the Royal throne of

Egypt.

“Canst thou refuse, O our Hope? Doth not the holy love of country swell

within thy heart? Canst thou dash the cup of Freedom from thy lips and

bear to drink the bitter draught of slaves? The emprise is great; maybe

it shall fail, and thou with thy life, as we with ours, shalt pay the

price of our endeavour. But what of it, Harmachis? Is life, then,

so sweet? Are we so softly cushioned on the stony bed of earth? Is

bitterness and sorrow in its sum so small and scant a thing? Do we here

breathe so divine an air that we should fear to face the passage of

our breath? What have we here but hope and memory? What see we here but

shadows? Shall we then fear to pass pure-handed where Fulfilment is and

memory is lost in its own source, and shadows die in the light which

cast them? O Harmachis, that man alone is truly blest who crowns his

life with Fame’s most splendid wreath. For, since to all the Brood of

Earth Death hands his poppy-flowers, he indeed is happy to whom there is

occasion given to weave them in a crown of glory. And how can a man die

better than in a great endeavour to strike the gyves from his Country’s

limbs so that she again may stand in the face of Heaven and raise the

shrill shout of Freedom, and, clad once more in a panoply of strength,

trample under foot the fetters of her servitude, defying the tyrant

nations of the earth to set their seal upon her brow?

“Khem calls thee, Harmachis. Come then, thou Deliverer; leap like Horus

from the firmament, break her chains, scatter her foes, and rule a

Pharaoh on Pharaoh’s Throne----”

“Enough, enough!” I cried, while the long murmur of applause swept about

the columns and up the massy walls. “Enough; is there any need to adjure

me thus? Had I a hundred lives, would I not most gladly lay them down

for Egypt?”

“Well said, well said!” answered Sepa. “Now go forth with the woman

yonder, that she may make thy hands clean before they touch the sacred

emblems, and anoint thy brow before it is encircled of the diadem.”

And so I went into a chamber apart with the old wife, Atoua. There,

muttering prayers, she poured pure water over my hands into a ewer of

gold, and having dipped a fine cloth into oil wiped my brow with it.

“O happy Egypt!” she said; “O happy Prince, that art come to rule in

Egypt! O Royal youth!--too Royal to be a priest--so shall many a fair

woman think; but, perchance, for thee they will relax the priestly rule,

else how shall the race of Pharaoh be carried on? O happy I, who dandled

thee and gave my flesh and blood to save thee! O royal and beautiful

Harmachis, born for splendour, happiness, and love!”

“Cease, cease,” I said, for her talk jarred upon me; “call me not happy

till thou knowest my end, and speak not to me of love, for with love

comes sorrow, and mine is another and a higher way.”

“Ay, ay, so thou sayest--and joy, too, that comes with love! Never talk

lightly of love, my King, for it brought thee here! _La! la!_ but it is

always the way--‘The goose on the wing laughs at crocodiles,’ so goes

their saying down at Alexandria; ‘but when the goose is asleep on the

water, it is the crocodiles that laugh.’ Not but what women are pretty

crocodiles. Men worship the crocodiles at Anthribis--Crocodilopolis they

call it now, don’t they?--but they worship women all the world over!

_La!_ how my tongue runs on, and thou about to be crowned Pharaoh! Did I

not prophesy it to thee? Well, thou art clean, Lord of the Double Crown.

Go forth!”

So I went from the chamber with the old wife’s foolish talk ringing in

my ears, though of a truth her folly had ever a grain of wit in it.

As I came, the Dignitaries rose once more and bowed before me. Then my

father, without delay, drew near me, and placed in my hands a golden

image of the divine Ma, the Goddess of Truth, and golden images of the

arks of the God Amen-Ra, of the divine Mout, and the divine Khons, and

spoke solemnly:

“Thou swearest by the living majesty of Ma, by the majesty of Amen-Ra,

of Mout, and of Khons?”

“I swear,” I said.

“Thou swearest by the holy land of Khem, by Sihor’s flood, by the

Temples of the Gods and the eternal Pyramids?”

“I swear.”

“Remembering thy hideous doom if thou shouldst fail therein, thou

swearest that thou wilt in all things govern Egypt according to its

ancient laws, that thou wilt preserve the worship of its Gods, that thou

wilt do equal justice, that thou wilt not oppress, that thou wilt not

betray, that thou wilt make no alliance with the Roman or the Greek,

that thou wilt cast out the foreign Idols, that thou wilt devote thy

life to the liberty of the land of Khem?”

“I swear.”

“It is well. Mount, then, the throne, that in the presence of these thy

subjects, I may name thee Pharaoh.”

I mounted upon the throne, of which the footstool is a Sphinx, and the

canopy the overshadowing wings of Ma. Then Amenemhat drew nigh once

again and placed the Pshent upon my brow, and on my head the Double

Crown, and the Royal Robe about my shoulders, and in my hands the

Sceptre and the Scourge.

“Royal Harmachis,” he cried, “by these outward signs and tokens, I, the

High Priest of the Temple of Ra-Men-Ma at Abouthis, crown thee Pharaoh

of the Upper and Lower Land. Reign and prosper, O Hope of Khemi!”

“Reign and prosper, Pharaoh!” echoed the Dignitaries, bowing down before

me.

Then, one by one, they swore allegiance, till all had sworn. And, having

sworn, my father took me by the hand; he led me in solemn procession

into each of the seven Sanctuaries that are in this Temple of Ra-Men-Ma,

and in each I made offerings, swung incense, and officiated as priest.

Clad in the Royal robes I made offerings in the Shrine of Horus, in the

Shrine of Isis, in the Shrine of Osiris, in the Shrine of Amen-Ra, in

the Shrine of Horemku, in the Shrine of Ptah, till at length I reached

the Shrine of the King’s Chamber.

Here they made their offering to me, as the Divine Pharaoh, and left me

very weary--but a King.

[Here the first and smallest of the papyrus rolls comes to an end.]

BOOK II--THE FALL OF HARMACHIS

CHAPTER I

OF THE FAREWELL OF AMENEMHAT TO HARMACHIS; OF THE COMING OF HARMACHIS

TO ALEXANDRIA; OF THE EXHORTATION OF SEPA; OF THE PASSING OF CLEOPATRA

ROBED AS ISIS; AND OF THE OVERTHROW OF THE GLADIATOR BY HARMACHIS

Now the long days of preparation had passed, and the time was at hand. I

was initiated, and I was crowned; so that although the common folk knew

me not, or knew me only as Priest of Isis, there were in Egypt thousands

who at heart bowed down to me as Pharaoh. The hour was at hand, and my

soul went forth to meet it. For I longed to overthrow the foreigner, to

set Egypt free, to mount the throne that was my heritage, and cleanse

the temples of my Gods. I was fain for the struggle, and I never doubted

of its end. I looked into the mirror, and saw triumph written on my

brows. The future stretched a path of glory from my feet--ay, glittering

with glory like Sihor in the sun. I communed with my Mother Isis; I sat

within my chamber and took counsel with my heart; I planned new temples;

I revolved great laws that I would put forth for my people’s weal; and

in my ears rang the shouts of exultation which should greet victorious

Pharaoh on his throne.

But still I tarried a little while at Abouthis, and, having been

commanded to do so, let my hair, that had been shorn, grow again long

and black as the raven’s wing, instructing myself meanwhile in all manly

exercises and feats of arms. Also, for a purpose which shall be seen, I

perfected myself in the magic art of the Egyptians, and in the reading

of the stars, in which things, indeed, I already have great skill.

Now, this was the plan that had been built up. My uncle Sepa had, for

a while, left the Temple of Annu, giving out that his health had failed

him. Thence he had moved down to a house in Alexandria, to gather

strength, as he said, from the breath of the sea, and also to learn for

himself the wonders of the great Museum and the glory of Cleopatra’s

Court. There it was planned that I should join him, for there, at

Alexandria, the egg of the plot was hatching. Accordingly, when at

last the summons came, all things being prepared, I made ready for the

journey, and passed into my father’s chamber to receive his blessing

before I went. There sat the old man, as once before he sat when he had

rebuked me because I went out to slay the lion, his long white beard

resting on the table of stone and sacred writings in his hand. When I

came in he rose from his seat and would have knelt before me, crying

“Hail, Pharaoh!” but I caught him by the hand.

“It is not meet, my father,” I said.

“It is meet,” he answered, “it is meet that I should bow before my King;

but be it as thou wilt. And so thou goest, Harmachis; my blessings go

with thee, O my son! And may Those whom I serve grant to me that my

old eyes may, indeed, behold thee on the throne! I have searched long,

striving, Harmachis, to read the future that shall be; but I can learn

naught by all my wisdom. It is hid from me, and at times my heart fails.

But hear this, there is danger in thy path, and it comes in the form of

Woman. I have known it long, and therefore thou hast been called to the

worship of the heavenly Isis, who bids her votaries put away the thought

of woman till such time as she shall think well to slacken the rule.

Oh, my son, I would that thou wert not so strong and fair--stronger and

fairer, indeed, than any man in Egypt, as a King should be--for in that

strength and beauty may lie a cause of stumbling. Beware, then, of those

witches of Alexandria, lest, like a worm, some one of them creep into my

heart and eat its secret out.”

“Have no fear, my father,” I answered, frowning, “my thought is set on

other things than red lips and smiling eyes.”

“It is good,” he answered; “so may it befall. And now farewell. When

next we meet, may it be in that happy hour when, with all the priests of

the Upper Land, I move down from Abouthis to do my homage to Pharaoh on

his throne.”

So I embraced him, and went. Alas! I little thought how we should meet

again.

Thus it came about that once more I passed down the Nile travelling as a

man of no estate. And to such as were curious about me it was given out

that I was the adopted son of the High Priest of Abouthis, having been

brought up to the priesthood, and that I had at the last refused the

service of the Gods, and chosen to go to Alexandria, to seek my fortune.

For, be it remembered, I was still held to be the grandson of the old

wife, Atoua, by all those who did not know the truth.

On the tenth night, sailing with the wind, we reached the mighty city

of Alexandria, the city of a thousand lights. Above them all towered the

white Pharos, that wonder of the world, from the crown of which a light

like the light of the sun blazed out across the waters of the harbour

to guide mariners on their way across the sea. The vessel having been

cautiously made fast to the quay, for it was night, I disembarked and

stood wondering at the vast mass of houses, and confused by the clamour

of many tongues. For here all peoples seemed to be gathered together,

each speaking after the fashion of his own land. And as I stood a

young man came and touched me on the shoulder, asking me if I was from

Abouthis and named Harmachis. I said “Yea.” Then, bending over me,

he whispered the secret pass-word into my ear, and, beckoning to

two slaves, bade them bring my baggage from the ship. This they did,

fighting their way through the crowd of porters who were clamouring

for hire. Then I followed him down the quay, which was bordered with

drinking-places, where all sorts of men were gathered, tippling wine and

watching the dancing of women, some of whom were but scantily arrayed,

and some not arrayed at all.

And so we went through the lamp-lit houses till at last we reached the

shore of the great harbour, and turned to the right along a wide way

paved with granite and bordered by strong houses, having cloisters in

front of them, the like of which I had never seen. Turning once more to

the right we came to a quieter portion of the city, where, except for

parties of strolling revellers, the streets were still. Presently

my guide halted at a house built of white stone. We passed in, and,

crossing a small courtyard, entered a chamber where there was a light.

And here, at last, I found my uncle Sepa, most glad to see me safe.

When I had washed and eaten, he told me that all things went well, and

that as yet there was no thought of evil at the Court. Further, he said,

it having come to the ears of the Queen that the Priest of Annu was

sojourning at Alexandria, she sent for him and closely questioned

him--not as to any plot, for of that she never thought, but as to the

rumour which had reached her, that there was treasure hid in the Great

Pyramid which is by Annu. For, being ever wasteful, she was ever in want

of money, and had bethought her of opening the Pyramid. But he laughed

at her, telling her the Pyramid was the burying-place of the divine

Khufu, and that he knew nothing of its secrets. Then she was angered,

and swore that so surely as she ruled in Egypt she would tear it down,

stone by stone, and discover the secret at its heart. Again he laughed,

and, in the words of the proverb which they have at Alexandria, told her

that “Mountains live longer than Kings.” Thereon she smiled at his ready

answer, and let him go. Also my uncle Sepa told me that on the morrow I

should see this Cleopatra. For it was her birthday (as, indeed, it was

also mine), and, dressed in the robes of the Holy Isis, she would pass

in state from her palace on the Lochias to the Serapeum to offer a

sacrifice at the Shrine of the false God who sits in the Temple. And he

said that thereafter the fashion by which I should gain entrance to the

household of the Queen should be contrived.

Then, being very weary, I went to rest, but could sleep little for the

strangeness of the place, the noises in the streets, and the thought of

the morrow. While it was yet dark, I rose, climbed the stair to the

roof of the house, and waited. Presently, the sun’s rays shot out like

arrows, and lit upon the white wonder of the marble Pharos, whose light

instantly sank and died, as though, indeed, the sun had killed it. Now

the rays fell upon the palaces of the Lochias where Cleopatra lay, and

lit them up till they flamed like a jewel set on the dark, cool bosom

of the sea. Away the light flew, kissing the Soma’s sacred dome, beneath

which Alexander sleeps, touching the high tops of a thousand palaces

and temples; past the porticoes of the great museum that loomed near at

hand, striking the lofty Shrine, where, carved of ivory, is the image

of the false God Serapis, and at last seeming to lose itself in the vast

and gloomy Necropolis. Then, as the dawn gathered into day, the flood of

brightness, overbrimming the bowl of night, flowed into the lower lands

and streets, and showed Alexandria red in the sunrise as the mantle of

a king, and shaped as a mantle. The Etesian wind came up from the north,

and swept away the vapour from the harbours, so that I saw their blue

waters rocking a thousand ships. I saw, too, that mighty mole the

Heptastadium; I saw the hundreds of streets, the countless houses, the

innumerable wealth and splendour of Alexandria set like a queen between

lake Mareotis and the ocean, and dominating both, and I was filled with

wonder. This, then, was one city in my heritage of lands and cities!

Well, it was worth the grasping. And having looked my full and fed my

heart, as it were, with the sight of splendour, I communed with the Holy

Isis and came down from the roof.

In the chamber beneath was my uncle Sepa. I told him that I had been

watching the sun rise over the city of Alexandria.

“So!” he said, looking at me from beneath his shaggy eyebrows; “and what

thinkest thou of Alexandria?”

“I think it is like some city of the Gods,” I answered.

“Ay!” he replied fiercely, “a city of the infernal Gods--a sink of

corruption, a bubbling well of iniquity, a home of false faith springing

from false hearts. I would that not one stone of it was left upon

another stone, and that its wealth lay deep beneath yonder waters! I

would that the gulls were screaming across its site, and that the wind,

untainted by a Grecian breath, swept through its ruins from the ocean to

Mareotis! O royal Harmachis, let not the luxury and beauty of Alexandria

poison thy sense; for in their deadly air, Faith perishes, and Religion

cannot spread her heavenly wings. When the hour comes for thee to rule,

Harmachis, cast down this accursed city and, as thy fathers did, set

up thy throne in the white walls of Memphis. For I tell thee that, for

Egypt, Alexandria is but a splendid gate of ruin, and, while it endures,

all nations of the earth shall march through it, to the plunder of the

land, and all false Faiths shall nestle in it and breed the overthrow of

Egypt’s Gods.”

I made no answer, for there was truth in his words. And yet to me the

city seemed very fair to look on. After we had eaten, my uncle told me

it was now time to set out to view the march of Cleopatra, as she went

in triumph to the Shrine of Serapis. For although she would not pass

till within two hours of the midday, yet these people of Alexandria have

so great a love of shows and idling that had we not presently set forth,

by no means could we have come through the press of the multitudes who

were already gathering along the highways where the Queen must ride. So

we went out to take our places upon a stand, built of timber, that had

been set up at the side of the great road which pierces through the

city, to the Canopic Gate. For my uncle had already purchased a right to

enter there, and that dearly.

We won our way with much struggle through the great crowds that were

already gathered in the streets till we reached the scaffolding of

timber, which was roofed in with an awning and gaily hung with scarlet

cloths. Here we seated ourselves upon a bench and waited for some hours,

watching the multitude press past shouting, singing, and talking loudly

in many tongues. At length soldiers came to clear the road, clad, after

the Roman fashion, in breast-plates of chain-armour. After them marched

heralds enjoining silence (at which the population sung and shouted all

the more loudly), and crying that Cleopatra, the Queen, was coming.

Then followed a thousand Cilician skirmishers, a thousand Thracians, a

thousand Macedonians, and a thousand Gauls, each armed after the fashion

of their country. Then passed five hundred men of those who are called

the Fenced Horsemen, for both men and horses were altogether covered

with mail. Next came youths and maidens sumptuously draped and wearing

golden crowns, and with them images symbolising Day and Night, Morning

and Noon, the Heavens and the Earth. After these walked many fair women,

pouring perfumes on the road, and others scattering blooming flowers.

Now there rose a great shout of “Cleopatra! Cleopatra!” and I held my

breath and bent forward to see her who dared to put on the robes of

Isis.

But at that moment the multitude so gathered and thickened in front of

where I was that I could no longer clearly see. So in my eagerness

I leapt over the barrier of the scaffolding, and, being very strong,

pushed my way through the crowd till I reached the foremost rank. And

as I did so, Nubian slaves armed with thick staves and crowned with

ivy-leaves ran up, striking the people. One man I noted more especially,

for he was a giant, and, being strong, was insolent beyond measure,

smiting the people without cause, as, indeed, is the wont of low persons

set in authority. For a woman stood near to me, an Egyptian by her face,

bearing a child in her arms, whom the man, seeing that she was weak,

struck on the head with his rod so that she fell prone, and the people

murmured. But at the sight my blood rushed of a sudden through my veins

and drowned my reason. I held in my hand a staff of olive-wood from

Cyprus, and as the black brute laughed at the sight of the stricken

woman and her babe rolling on the ground, I swung the staff aloft and

smote. So shrewdly did I strike, that the tough rod split upon the

giant’s shoulders and the blood spurted forth, staining his trailing

leaves of ivy.

Then, with a shriek of pain and fury--for those who smite love not that

they be smitten--he turned and sprang at me! And all the people round

gave back, save only the woman who could not rise, leaving us two in a

ring as it were. On he came with a rush, and, as he came, being now mad,

I smote him with my clenched fist between the eyes, having nothing else

with which to smite, and he staggered like an ox beneath the first blow

of the priest’s axe. Then the people shouted, for they love to see a

fight, and the man was known to them as a gladiator victorious in the

games. Gathering up his strength, the knave came on with an oath, and,

whirling his heavy staff on high, struck me in such a fashion that, had

I not avoided the blow by nimbleness, I had surely been slain. But, as

it chanced, the staff hit upon the ground, and so heavily that it flew

in fragments. Thereon the multitude shouted again, and the great man,

blind with fury, rushed at me to smite me down. But with a cry I sprang

straight at his throat--for he was so heavy a man that I knew I could

not hope to throw him by strength--ay, and gripped it. There I clung,

though his fists battered me like bludgeons, driving my thumbs into his

throat. Round and round we turned, till at length he flung himself

to the earth, trusting thus to shake me off. But I held on fast as we

rolled over and over on the ground, till at last he grew faint for want

of breath. Then I, being uppermost, drove my knee down upon his chest,

and, as I believe, should thus have slain him in my rage had not my

uncle, and others there gathered, fallen upon me and dragged me from

him.

And meanwhile, though I know it not, the chariot in which the Queen

sat, with elephants going before and lions led after it, had reached the

spot, and had been halted because of the tumult. I looked up, and thus

torn, panting, my white garments stained with the blood that had rushed

from the mouth and nostrils of the mighty Nubian, I for the first time

saw Cleopatra face to face. Her chariot was all of gold, and drawn by

milk-white steeds. She sat in it with two fair girls, clad in Greek

attire, standing one on either side, fanning her with glittering fans.

On her head was the covering of Isis, the golden horns between which

rested the moon’s round disk and the emblem of Osiris’ throne, with the

uræus twined around. Beneath this covering was the vulture cap of gold,

the blue enamelled wings and the vulture head with gemmy eyes, under

which her long dark tresses flowed towards her feet. About her rounded

neck was a broad collar of gold studded with emeralds and coral. Round

her arms and wrists were bracelets of gold studded with emeralds and

coral, and in one hand she held the holy cross of Life fashioned of

crystal, and in the other the golden rod of royalty. Her breast was

bare, but under it was a garment that glistened like the scaly covering

of a snake, everywhere sewn with gems. Beneath this robe was a skirt

of golden cloth, half hidden by a scarf of the broidered silk of Cos,

falling in folds to the sandals that, fastened with great pearls,

adorned her white and tiny feet.

All this I discerned at a glance, as it were. Then I looked upon the

face--that face which seduced Cæsar, ruined Egypt, and was doomed to

give Octavian the sceptre of the world. I looked upon the flawless

Grecian features, the rounded chin, the full, rich lips, the chiselled

nostrils, and the ears fashioned like delicate shells. I saw the

forehead, low, broad, and lovely, the crisped, dark hair falling in

heavy waves that sparkled in the sun, the arched eyebrows, and the long,

bent lashes. There before me was the grandeur of her Imperial shape.

There burnt the wonderful eyes, hued like the Cyprian violet--eyes that

seemed to sleep and brood on secret things as night broods upon the

desert, and yet as the night to shift, change, and be illumined by

gleams of sudden splendour born within their starry depths. All those

wonders I saw, though I have small skill in telling them. But even

then I knew that it was not in these charms alone that the might of

Cleopatra’s beauty lay. It was rather in a glory and a radiance cast

through the fleshly covering from the fierce soul within. For she was a

Thing of Flame like unto which no woman has ever been or ever will be.

Even when she brooded, the fire of her quick heart shone through her.

But when she woke, and the lightning leapt suddenly from her eyes, and

the passion-laden music of her speech chimed upon her lips, ah! then,

who can tell how Cleopatra seemed? For in her met all the splendours

that have been given to woman for her glory, and all the genius which

man has won from heaven. And with them dwelt every evil of that greater

sort, which fearing nothing, and making a mock of laws, has taken

empires for its place of play, and, smiling, watered the growth of

its desires with the rich blood of men. In her breast they gathered,

together fashioning that Cleopatra whom no man may draw, and yet whom

no man, having seen, ever can forget. They fashioned her grand as the

Spirit of Storm, lovely as Lightning, cruel as Pestilence, yet with a

heart; and what she did is known. Woe to the world when such another

comes to curse it!

For a moment I met Cleopatra’s eyes as she idly bent herself to find the

tumult’s cause. At first they were sombre and dark, as though they saw

indeed, but the brain read nothing. Then they awoke, and their very

colour seemed to change as the colour of the sea changes when the water

is shaken. First, there was anger written in them; next an idle noting;

then, when she looked upon the huge bulk of the man whom I had overcome,

and knew him for the gladiator, something, perchance, that was not

far from wonder. At the least they softened, though, indeed, her face

changed no whit. But he who would read Cleopatra’s mind had need to

watch her eyes, for her countenance varied but a little. Turning, she

said some word to her guards. They came forward and led me to her, while

all the multitude waited silently to see me slain.

I stood before her, my arms folded on my breast. Overcome though I was

by the wonder of her loveliness I hated her in my heart, this woman who

dared to clothe herself in the dress of Isis, this usurper who sat upon

my throne, this wanton squandering the wealth of Egypt in chariots and

perfumes. When she had looked me over from head to the feet, she spake

in a low full voice and in the tongue of Khemi which she alone had

learned of all the Lagidæ:

“And who and what art thou, Egyptian--for Egyptian I see thou art--who

darest to smite my slave when I make progress through my city?”

“I am Harmachis,” I answered boldly. “Harmachis, the astrologer, adopted

son of the High Priest and Governor of Abouthis, who am come hither to

seek my fortune. I smote thy slave, O Queen, because for no fault he

struck down the woman yonder. Ask of those who saw, royal Egypt.”

“Harmachis,” she said, “the name has a high sound--and thou hast a high

look;” and then, speaking to a soldier who had seen all, she bade him

tell her what had come to pass. This he did truthfully, being friendly

disposed towards me because I had overcome the Nubian. Thereon she

turned and spoke to the girl bearing the fan who stood beside her--a

woman with curling hair and shy dark eyes, very beautiful to see. The

girl answered somewhat. Then Cleopatra bade them bring the slave to her.

So they led forward the giant, who had found his breath again, and with

him the woman whom he had smitten down.

“Thou dog!” she said, in the same low voice; “thou coward! who,

being strong, didst smite down this woman, and, being a coward, wast

overthrown of this young man. See, thou, I will teach thee manners.

Henceforth, when thou smitest women it shall be with thy left arm. Ho,

guards, seize this black slave and strike off his right hand.”

Her command given, she sank back in her golden chariot, and again

the cloud gathered in her eyes. But the guards seized the giant, and,

notwithstanding his cries and prayers for mercy, struck off his hand

with a sword upon the wood of the scaffolding and he was carried away

groaning. Then the procession moved on again. As it went the fair woman

with the fan turned her head, caught my eye, and smiled and nodded as

though she rejoiced, at which I wondered somewhat.

The people cheered also and made jests, saying that I should soon

practice astrology in the palace. But, as soon as we might, I and my

uncle escaped, and made our way back to the house. All the while he

rated me for my rashness; but when we came to the chamber of the house

he embraced me and rejoiced greatly, because I had overthrown the giant

with so little hurt to myself.