The foreign quarter in Memphis lay on the northeastern extremity of
the city near the river. There were several hundred houses in that
place and many thousand people,--Assyrians, Greeks, Jews, most of all,
Phoenicians.
That was a wealthy quarter. A street thirty paces in width formed its
leading artery. This street was rather straight, and paved with flat
stones. On both sides were houses of sandstone, brick, or limestone,
varying in height from three to five stories. In the cellars were
stores of raw materials; on the ground floors were arched rooms; on
the first stories dwellings of wealthy people; higher were the
workshops of weavers, tailors, jewellers; highest of all, the crowded
dwellings of laborers.
The buildings of this quarter, like those in the whole city, were
mainly white; but one might see stone houses as green as a meadow, as
yellow as a wheat-field, as blue as the sky, or as red as blood.
The front walls of many houses were ornamented with pictures
representing the occupations of people who dwelt in them. On the house
of a jeweller long rows of pictures announced that its owner sold to
foreign kings chains and bracelets of his own making which roused
their amazement. The immense palace of a merchant was covered with
pictures representing the labors and perils of a trafficker: on the
sea dreadful monsters with fish tails were seizing the man; in the
desert winged dragons breathing fire were grasping after him, and on
distant islands he was tormented by a giant whose sandals were larger
than any ship of the Phoenicians.
A physician on the wall of his office represented persons who, thanks
to his aid, had recovered lost hands and feet, even teeth and
youthfulness. On a building occupied by a government administrator of
the quarter were to be seen a keg into which people were throwing
gold rings; a scribe into whose ears some one was whispering; an
offender, stretched on the ground, whom two other men were beating.
The street was full. Along the walls stood litter-bearers, men with
fans, messengers and laborers, ready to offer their services. In the
middle of the street moved an unbroken line of merchants' wares
carried by men, asses, or oxen attached to vehicles. On the sidewalks
pushed forward noisy sellers of fresh water, grapes, dates, dried
fish, and among them hucksters, flower-girls, musicians, and
tricksters of various descriptions.
In this torrent of people which flowed forward and separated, in which
men bought and sold, crying out in various tones, policemen were
prominent. Each had a brownish tunic reaching to his knees, bare legs,
an apron with blue and red stripes, a short sword at his side, and a
strong stick in his hand. This official walked along on the sidewalk;
sometimes he conversed with a colleague; most frequently, however, he
stood on a stone at the edge of the street, so as to take in more
accurately the crowd which flowed past in front of him.
In view of such watchfulness street thieves had to do their work
cleverly. Usually two began to fight, and when a crowd had gathered
around them and the police clubbed both spectators and quarrellers,
other confederates in the art did the stealing.
About half-way between the two ends of the street stood the inn of
Asarhadon, a Phoenician from Tyre. In this inn, for easier control,
all were forced to dwell who came from beyond the boundaries of Egypt.
It was a large quadrangular building which on each side had a number
of tens of windows, and was not connected with other houses; hence men
could go around the place and watch it from all points. Over the
principal gate hung the model of a ship; on the front wall were
pictures representing his holiness Rameses XII. placing offerings
before the gods, or extending his protection to foreigners, among whom
the Phoenicians were distinguished by a sturdy stature and very ruddy
faces.
The windows were narrow, always open, and only in case of need shaded
by curtains of linen or by colored slats. The chambers of the
innkeeper and of travellers occupied three stories; the ground floor
was devoted to a wineshop and an eating-place. Sailors, carriers,
handicraftsmen, and in general the poorer class of travellers ate and
drank in a courtyard which had a mosaic pavement and a linen roof
resting on columns, so that all guests might be under inspection. The
wealthier and better born ate in a gallery which surrounded the
courtyard. In the courtyard the men sat on the pavement near stones
which were used instead of tables; in the galleries, which were
cooler, there were tables, stools, and armchairs, even low couches,
with cushions, on which guests might slumber.
In each gallery there was a great table on which were bread, meat,
fish, and fruits, also jugs holding several quarts of beer, wine, and
water. Negroes, men and women, bore around food to the guests, removed
empty vessels, and brought from the cellars full pitchers, while
scribes watching scrupulously over the tables noted down carefully
each piece of bread, bulb of garlic, and flagon of water. In the
courtyard two inspectors stood on an elevation with sticks in their
grasp; these men kept their eyes on the servants and the scribes on
the one hand, and on the other by the aid of the sticks they settled
quarrels between the poorer guests of various nations. Thanks to this
arrangement thefts and battles happened rarely; they were more
frequent in the galleries than the courtyard.
The Phoenician innkeeper himself, the noted Asarhadon, a man beyond
fifty, dressed in a long tunic and a muslin cape, walked among the
guests to see if each received what he had ordered.
"Eat and drink, my sons!" said he to the Greek sailors, "for such pork
and beer there is not in all the world as I have. I hear that a storm
struck your ship about Rafia? Ye should give a bounteous offering to
the gods for preserving you. In Memphis a man might not see a storm
all his life, but at sea it is easier to meet lightning than a copper
uten. I have mead, flour, incense for holy sacrifices, and here, in
the corner, stand the gods of all nations. In my inn a man may still
his hunger and be pious for very slight charges."
He turned and went to the gallery among the merchants. "Eat and drink,
worthy lords," incited he, making obeisance. "The times are good. The
most worthy heir--may he live for ever!--is going to Pi-Bast with an
enormous retinue, but from the upper kingdom a transport of gold has
come, of which more than one of you will win a good portion. I have
partridges, young goslings, fish direct from the river, perfect roast
venison. And what wine they have sent me from Cyprus! May I be turned
into a Jew if a goblet of that luxury is not worth two drachmas, but
to you, my benefactors and fathers, I will give it to-day for one
drachma,--only to-day, to make a beginning."
"Give it for half a drachma a goblet, and we will taste it," said one
of the merchants.
"Half a drachma!" repeated the host. "Sooner will the Nile flow upward
toward Thebes than I give such sweetness for half a drachma, unless I
do it for thee, Lord Belezis, who art the pearl of Sidon. Hei, slaves!
bring to our benefactors the largest pitcher of wine from Cyprus."
When the innkeeper had walked on, the merchant named Belezis said to
his companions,--
"May my hand wither if that wine is worth half a drachma! But never
mind! We shall have less trouble with the police hereafter."
Conversation with guests of all nations and conditions did not prevent
the host from looking at the scribes who noted down food and drink, at
the watchman who stared at the scribes and the servants, and above all
at a traveller who had seated himself on cushions in the front
gallery, with his feet under him, and who was dozing over a handful of
dates and a goblet of pure water. That traveller was about forty years
old, he had abundant hair and beard of raven color, thoughtful eyes,
and wonderfully noble features which seemed never to have been
wrinkled by anger or distorted by fear.
"That is a dangerous rat!" thought the innkeeper, frowning. "He has
the look of a priest, but he wears a dark coat. He has left gold and
jewels with me to the value of a talent, and he neither eats meat nor
drinks wine. He must be a great prophet or a very great criminal."
Two naked serpent-tamers came into the courtyard bearing a basket full
of poisonous reptiles, and began their exhibition. The younger one
played on a flute, while the elder wound around his body snakes big
and little, any one of which would have sufficed to drive away guests
from the inn "Under the Ship."
The flute-player gave out shriller and shriller notes; the
serpent-tamer squirmed, foamed at the mouth, quivered convulsively,
and irritated the reptiles till one of them bit him on the hand,
another on the face, while he swallowed alive a third one, the
smallest.
The guests and the servants looked at the exhibition of the
serpent-tamer with alarm. They trembled when he irritated the
reptiles, they closed their eyes when they bit him; but when the
performer swallowed one of the snakes, they howled with delight and
wonder.
The traveller in the front gallery, however, did not leave his
cushions, he did not deign even to look at the exhibition. But when
the tamer approached for pay, he threw to the pavement two copper
utens, giving a sign with his hand not to come nearer.
The exhibition lasted half an hour perhaps. When the performers left
the courtyard, a negro attending to the chambers of the inn rushed up
to the host and whispered something anxiously. After that, it was
unknown whence, a decurion of the police appeared, and when he had
conducted Asarhadon to a remote window, he conversed long with him.
The worthy owner of the inn beat his breast, clasped his hands, or
seized his head. At last he kicked the black man in the belly, and
commanded him to give the police official a roast goose and a pitcher
of Cyprus wine; then he approached the guest in the front gallery, who
seemed to doze there unbrokenly, though his eyes were open.
"I have evil news for thee, worthy lord," said the host, sitting at
the side of the traveller.
"The gods send rain and sadness on people whenever it pleases them,"
replied the guest, with indifference.
"While we were looking at the snake-tamers," continued the host,
pulling at his parti-colored beard, "thieves reached the second story
and stole thy effects,--three bags and a casket, of course very
precious."
"Thou must inform the court of my loss."
"Wherefore the court?" whispered the host. "With us thieves have a
guild of their own. We will send for their elder, and value the
effects; thou wilt pay him twenty per cent of the value and all will
be found again. I can assist thee."
"In my country," replied the guest, "no man compounds with thieves,
and I will not. I lodge with thee, I trusted thee with my property,
and thou wilt answer."
The worthy Asarhadon began to scratch his shoulder-blades.
"Man of a distant region," continued he, in a lower voice, "ye
Hittites and we Phoenicians are brothers, hence I advise thee
sincerely not to turn to an Egyptian court, for it has only one
door,--that by which a man enters, but none by which he goes out."
"The gods can conduct an innocent man through a wall," said the
Hittite.
"Innocent! Who of us in the land of bondage is innocent?" whispered
the host. "Look in that direction; over there that commander of ten
policemen is finishing a goose, an excellent young goose, which I
myself would have eaten gladly. But dost thou know why, taking it from
my own mouth, I gave that goose to him?"
"It was because the man came to inquire about thee."
When he said this, the Phoenician looked askance at the traveller, who
did not lose calmness for an instant.
"He asked me," continued the host, "that master of ten policemen
asked, 'What sort of man is that black one who sits two hours over a
handful of dates?' I replied: 'A very honorable man, the lord Phut.'
'Whence comes he?' 'From the country of the Hittites, from the city of
Harran; he has a good house there of three stories, and much land.'
'Why has he come hither?' 'He has come,' I replied, 'to receive five
talents from a certain priest, talents lent by his father.'
"And dost thou know, worthy lord," continued the innkeeper, "what that
decurion answered? 'Asarhadon,' said he, 'I know that thou art a
faithful servant of his holiness, thou hast good food and pure wines;
for this reason I warn thee, look to thyself. Have a care of
foreigners who make no acquaintances, who avoid wine and every
amusement, and are silent. That Phut of Harran may be an Assyrian
spy.' The heart died in me when I heard this. But these words do not
affect thee," said he, indignantly, when he saw that the terrible
suspicion of espionage did not disturb the calm face of the Hittite.
"Asarhadon," said the guest, after a while, "I confided to thee myself
and my property. See to it, therefore, that my bags and my casket are
returned to me, for in the opposite case I shall complain of thee to
that same chief of ten who is eating the goose which was intended for
thee."
"Well, but permit me to pay the thieves only fifteen per cent of the
value of the things," cried the host.
"Thou hast no right to pay."
"Give them even thirty drachmas."
"Not an uten."
"Give the poor fellows even ten drachmas."
"Go in peace, Asarhadon, and beg the gods to return thee thy reason,"
answered the traveller, with the same unchanging calmness.
The host sprang up, panting from anger.
"The reptile!" thought he. "He has not come for a debt simply. He is
doing some business here. My heart tells me that he is a rich
merchant, or maybe an innkeeper who, in company with priests and
judges, will open another inn somewhere near this one. May the first
fire of heaven burn thee! May the leprosy devour thee! Miser,
deceiver, criminal from whom an honest man can make nothing."
The worthy Asarhadon had not succeeded yet in calming himself when the
sounds of a flute and a drum were heard on the street, and after a
while four dancers, almost naked, rushed into the courtyard. The
carriers and sailors greeted them with shouts of delight, and even
important merchants in the galleries looked at them with curiosity and
made remarks on their beauty. The dancers with motions of the hands
and with smiles greeted all the company. One began to play on a double
flute, another accompanied with a drum, and the two others danced
around the court in such fashion that there was hardly a guest whom
their muslin shawls did not strike as they whirled.
Those who were drinking began to sing, shout, and call to the dancers,
while among the common herd a quarrel sprang up which the inspectors
settled with canes. A certain Libyan, angered at sight of the canes,
drew a knife, but two black men seized his arms, took from him some
bronze rings as pay for food, and hurled him out to the street.
Meanwhile one of the dancers remained with the sailors, two went among
the merchants who offered them wine and cakes, and the oldest passed
among the tables to make a collection.
"By the sanctuary of the divine Isis!" cried she, "pious strangers,
give offerings to the goddess who guards all creation. The more you
give the more happiness and blessing will come to you. For the
sanctuary of Mother Isis!"
They threw onto her drum coils of copper wire, sometimes a grain of
gold. One merchant asked if it were permitted to visit her, to which
she nodded with a smile.
When she entered the front gallery, Phut of Harran reached for his
leather bag and took out a gold ring, saying,--
"Istar is a great and good goddess; take this for her sanctuary."
The priestess looked quickly at him and whispered,--
"Anael, Sachiel--"
"Amabiel, Abalidot," answered the traveller, in the same low tone.
"I see that thou lovest Mother Isis," said the priestess, aloud. "Thou
must be wealthy and art bountiful, so it is worth while to soothsay
for thee."
She sat down near him, ate a couple of dates, and looking at his hand
began,--
"Thou art from a distant region, from Bretor and Hagit.[6] Thou hast
had a pleasant journey. _For some days the Phoenicians are watching
thee_," added she, in a lower voice.
[6] The spirits of the northern and eastern parts of the world.
"Thou hast come for money, though thou art not a merchant. _Visit me
this day after sunset._ Thy wishes will be accomplished," said she,
aloud. "They should be accomplished. _I live on the Street of Tombs in
the house of the Green Star_," whispered she. "But beware of thieves
who are watching for thy property," finished she, seeing that the
worthy Asarhadon was listening.
"There are no thieves in my house!" burst out the Phoenician. "None
steal except those who come from the street."
"Be not angry, old man," replied the priestess, jeeringly, "or a red
line will come out on thy neck right away; that means an unlucky
death."
When he heard this, Asarhadon spat three times, and in a low voice
repeated a charm against evil predictions. When he had moved away to
the depth of the gallery, the priestess began to coquet with the
Harran man. She gave him a rose from her crown, embraced him at
parting, and went to the other tables.
The traveller beckoned to the host.
"I wish," said he, "that woman to come to me. Give command to conduct
her to my chamber."
Asarhadon looked into his eyes, clapped his hands, and burst out
laughing.
"Typhon has possessed thee, O man of Harran!" cried he. "If anything
of that sort happened in my house with an Egyptian priestess, they
would drive me out of the city. Here it is permissible to receive only
foreign women."
"In that case I will go to her," answered Phut, "for she is a wise and
devout person, and has told me of many happenings. After sunset thou
wilt give me a guide, so that I may not go astray."
"All the evil spirits have entered thy heart," said Asarhadon. "Dost
thou know that this acquaintance will cost thee two hundred drachmas,
perhaps three hundred, not counting that which thou must give the
servants and the sanctuary. For such a sum, or say five hundred
drachmas, thou mayst make the acquaintance of a young and virtuous
woman, my daughter, who is now fourteen years of age, and like a
prudent girl is collecting for herself a dowry. Do not wander in the
night through a strange city, for thou wilt fall into the hands of the
police or of thieves, but make use of that which the gods give thee at
home. Dost thou wish?"
"But will thy daughter go with me to Harran?" inquired Phut.
The innkeeper looked at him with astonishment. All at once he struck
his forehead, as if he had divined a secret, and seizing the traveller
by the hand, he drew him to a quieter place at the window.
"I know all," whispered he, excitedly. "Thou art dealing in women. But
remember that for taking away one Egyptian woman thou mayst lose thy
property and go to the quarries. But--perhaps thou wilt take me into
thy company, for here I know every road."
"In that case show me the road to the priestess," said Phut. "Remember
that after sunset thou art to have a guide for me, and to-morrow my
bags and casket, otherwise I shall complain to the court."
Then Phut left the gallery and went to his chamber on a higher story.
Asarhadon with anger approached a table at which Phoenician merchants
were drinking, and called aside one of them named Kush.
"Thou bringest beautiful guests to me!" said he, unable to restrain
the quivering of his voice. "That Phut eats almost nothing, and now,
as if to insult my house, he is going out to an Egyptian dancer
instead of giving presents to my women."
"What wonder in that?" answered Kush, smiling. "He could find a
Phoenician woman in Sidon, but here he prefers an Egyptian. A fool is
he who in Cyprus does not taste Cyprus wine, but Tyrian beer--"
"But I say," broke in the host, "that that man is dangerous. He seems
to be a citizen, though he looks like a priest."
"Thou, Asarhadon, hast the look of a high priest, though thou art only
an innkeeper. A bench does not cease to be a bench, though it has a
lion's skin on it."
"But why does he go to priestesses? I would swear that that is a
pretence, and that this churlish Hittite, instead of going to a feast
with women, is going to some meeting of conspirators."
"Anger and greed have darkened thy reason," answered Kush, with
impatience. "Thou art like a man who looking for melons on a fig-tree
sees not the figs on it. It is clear to any merchant that if Phut is
to collect five talents from a priest he must win favors from all who
go around in the sanctuaries. But thou hast no understanding."
"My heart tells me that this must be an Assyrian ambassador watching
to destroy his holiness."
Kush looked with contempt on Asarhadon.
"Watch him, then; follow every step of his. If thou discover anything,
perhaps thou wilt get some part of his property."
"Oh, now thou hast given wise counsel," said the host. "Let that rat
go to the priestesses, and from them to places unknown to me. But I
will send after him my vision, from which nothing will be secret."