The prince journeyed on horseback in company with a number of officers
to Pi-Bast, the famous capital of the province of Habu.
The month Paoni had passed, Epiphi was beginning (April and May). The
sun stood high, heralding the most violent season of heat for Egypt. A
mighty wind from the desert had blown in repeatedly; men and beasts
fell because of heat, and on fields and trees a gray dust had begun to
settle under which vegetation was dying.
Roses had been harvested and turned into oil; wheat had been gathered
as well as the second crop of clover. Well-sweeps and buckets moved
with double energy, irrigating the earth with dirty water to fit it
for new seed. Men had begun to gather grapes and figs. The Nile had
fallen, water in canals was low and of evil odor. Above the whole
country a fine dust was borne along in a deluge of burning sun-rays.
In spite of this Prince Rameses rode on and felt gladsome. The life of
a penitent in the temple had grown irksome; he yearned for feasts,
uproar, and women.
Meanwhile the country, intersected with a net of canals, though flat
and monotonous, was pleasing. In the province of Habu lived people of
another origin: not the old Egyptians, but descendants of the valiant
Hyksos, who on a time had conquered Egypt and governed that land for a
number of generations.
The old Egyptians despised this remnant of a conquering race expelled
from power afterward, but Rameses looked on them with satisfaction.
They were large and strong, their bearing was proud, and there was
manly energy in their faces. They did not fall prostrate before the
prince and his officers, like Egyptians, but looked at him without
dislike, but also without timidity. Neither were their shoulders
covered with scars from beating; the scribes respected them because
they knew that if a Hyksos were beaten he would return the blows, and
might kill the man who gave them. Moreover the Hyksos enjoyed the
pharaoh's favor, for their people furnished the choicest warriors.
As the retinue of the heir approached Pi-Bast, whose temples and
palaces were visible through the haze of dust, as through a veil of
muslin, the neighborhood grew more active. Along the broad highway and
the canals men were taking to market cattle, wheat, fruit, wine,
flowers, bread, and a multitude of other articles of daily
consumption. The torrent of people and goods moving toward the city
was as noisy and dense as that outside Memphis in the holiday season.
Around Pi-Bast reigned throughout the whole year the uproar of a
market-day, which ceased only in the night time.
The cause of this was simple. In that city stood the renowned and
ancient temple of Astarte. This temple was revered throughout Western
Asia and attracted throngs of pilgrims. It could be said without
exaggeration that outside Pi-Bast thirty thousand strangers camped
daily,--Arabs, Phoenicians, Jews, Philistines, Hittites, Assyrians,
and others. The Egyptian government bore itself kindly toward these
pilgrims, who brought it a considerable income; the priests endured
them, and the people of neighboring provinces carried on an active
trade with them.
For the space of an hour's journey from Pi-Bast the mud huts and tents
of strangers covered the open country. As one neared the city, those
huts increased in number and transient inhabitants swarmed more and
more densely around them. Some were preparing food under the open sky,
others were purchasing provisions which came in continually, still
others were going in procession to the temple. Here and there were
large crowds before places of amusement, where beast-tamers,
serpent-charmers, athletes, female dancers, and jugglers exhibited
their adroitness.
Above all this multitude of people were heat and uproar.
Before the gate of the city Rameses was greeted by his court and by
the nomarch of Habu surrounded by his officials. But the greeting,
despite cordiality, was so cold that the astonished viceroy whispered
to Tutmosis,--
"What does this mean, that he looks on me as if I had come to measure
out punishment?"
"Because thou hast the face of a man who has been associating with
divinity."
He spoke truth. Whether because of ascetic life, or the society of
priests, or of long meditation, the prince had changed greatly. He had
grown thin, his complexion had darkened, and in his face and bearing
much dignity was evident. In the course of weeks he had grown some
years older.
On one of the main streets of the city there was such a dense throng
of people that the police had to open a way for the heir and his
retinue. But these people did not greet the prince; they had merely
gathered around a small palace as if waiting for some person.
"What is this?" asked Rameses of the nomarch, for this indifference of
the throng touched the prince disagreeably.
"Here dwells Hiram," answered the nomarch, "a prince of Tyre, a man
of great charity. Every day he distributes bountiful alms, therefore
poor people rush to him."
Rameses turned on his horse, looked, and said,--
"I see there laborers of the pharaoh. So they too go for alms to the
rich Phoenician?"
The nomarch was silent. Happily they approached the official palace,
and the prince forgot Hiram.
Feasts in honor of the viceroy continued a number of days in
succession, but they did not please him. Gladness was lacking and
disagreeable incidents happened.
One day a favorite of the prince was dancing before him; she burst
into tears. Rameses seized her in his arms, and asked what her trouble
was.
At first she hesitated, but emboldened by the kindness of her lord,
she answered, shedding tears in still greater abundance,--
"We are thy women, O ruler, we come from great families, and respect
is due to us."
"Thou speakest truth," said Rameses.
"Meanwhile thy treasurer stints us in allowance, and would deprive us
of serving-maids, without whom we cannot bathe or dress our hair."
Rameses summoned his treasurer, and commanded sternly that his women
should have all that belonged to their birth and position. The
treasurer fell on his face before the prince, and promised to carry
out all commands of the women. A couple of days later, a rebellion
broke out among the court slaves, who complained that their wine had
been taken. The heir ordered to give them wine. But during a review
two days later a deputation from the regiments came to the viceroy
with a most humble complaint, that their rations of meat and bread
were diminished. The prince commanded that those petitioners be
satisfied.
Still, two days later a great uproar at the palace roused him in the
morning. Rameses inquired what the cause was; the officer on duty
explained that the pharaoh's laborers had assembled and asked for
arrears due them.
They summoned the treasurer, whom the prince attacked in great anger.
"What is going on here?" cried he. "Since my return there is no day
without complaints of injustice. If anything like this is repeated, I
shall order an inquiry and put an end to thy management."
The trembling treasurer fell on his face again, and groaned,--
"Slay me, lord! But what am I to do when thy treasury, thy granaries,
and thy storehouses are empty?"
In spite of his anger the prince thought that the treasurer might be
innocent. He commanded him to withdraw, and then summoned Tutmosis.
"Listen to me," said Rameses to the favorite, "things are done here
which I do not understand, and to which I am not accustomed. My women,
the slaves, the army, the pharaoh's workmen do not receive what is due
them, or their supplies are curtailed. When I asked the treasurer what
this means, he answered that the treasury and the storehouses are
empty."
"He told truth."
"How is that?" burst out the prince. "For my journey his holiness
assigned two hundred talents in gold and goods. Can it be that all
this is expended?"
"Yes," answered Tutmosis.
"How is that?" cried the viceroy. "Did not the nomarchs entertain us
all the way?"
"Yes, but we paid them for doing so."
"Then they are rogues and robbers if they receive us as guests and
then plunder us."
"Be not angry, and I will explain."
"Sit down."
Tutmosis took a seat.
"Dost thou know," asked he, "that for a month past I have eaten food
from thy kitchen, drunk wine from thy pitchers, and dressed from thy
wardrobe?"
"Thou hast a right to that privilege."
"But I have never acted thus hitherto. I have lived, dressed, and
amused myself at my own expense, so as not to burden thy treasury. It
is true that thou hast paid my debts more than once, but that was only
a part of my outlay."
"Never mind the debts!"
"In a similar condition," continued Tutmosis, "are some tens of noble
youths of thy court. They maintained themselves so as to uphold the
splendor of the government; but now, like myself, they live at thy
expense, for they have nothing to pay with."
"Some time I will reward them."
"Now," continued Tutmosis, "we take from thy treasury, for want is
oppressing us; the nomarchs do the same. If they had means they would
give feasts and receptions at their own cost; but as they have not the
means they receive recompense. Wilt thou call them rogues now?"
"I condemned them too harshly. Anger, like smoke, covered my eyes,"
said Rameses. "I am ashamed of my words; none the less I wish that
neither courtiers, soldiers, nor working men should suffer injustice.
But since my means are exhausted it will be necessary to borrow. Would
a hundred talents suffice? What thinkest thou?"
"I think that no one would lend us a hundred talents," whispered
Tutmosis.
The viceroy looked at him haughtily.
"Is that a fit answer to the son of a pharaoh?" asked he.
"Dismiss me from thy presence," said Tutmosis, sadly, "but I have told
the truth. At present no one will make us a loan, for there is no one
to do so."
"What is Dagon for?" wondered the prince. "He is not near my court; is
he dead?"
"Dagon is in Pi-Bast, but he spends whole days with other Phoenician
merchants in the temple of Astarte in prayer and penance."
"Why such devotion? Is it because that I was in a temple that my
banker thinks he too should take counsel of the gods?"
Tutmosis turned on the stool.
"The Phoenicians," said he, "are alarmed; they are even crushed by the
news--"
"About what?"
"Some one has spread the report, worthiness, that when thou shalt
mount the throne all Phoenicians will be expelled and their property
confiscated."
"Well, they have time enough before that," laughed Rameses.
Tutmosis hesitated further. "They say," continued he, in a lowered
voice, "that in recent days the health of his holiness--may he live
through eternity!--has failed notably."
"That is untrue!" interrupted the prince, in alarm. "I should know of
it."
"But the priests are performing religious services in secret for the
return of health to the pharaoh. I know this to a certainty."
The prince was astonished.
"How! my father seriously ill, the priests are praying for him, but
tell me nothing?"
"They say that the illness of his holiness may last a year."
"Oh, thou hearest fables and art disturbing me. Better tell me about
the Phoenicians."
"I have heard," said Tutmosis, "only what every one has heard,--that
while in the temple thou wert convinced of the harm done by
Phoenicians, and didst bind thyself to expel them."
"In the temple?" repeated the heir. "But who knows what that is of
which I convinced myself in the temple, and what I decided to do?"
Tutmosis shrugged his shoulders, and was silent.
"Was there treason, too, in the temple?" thought the prince. "Summon
Dagon in every case," said he, aloud. "I must know the source of these
lies, and by the gods, I will end them."
"Thou wilt do well, for all Egypt is frightened. Even to-day there is
no one to lend money, and if those reports continue all commerce will
cease. Our aristocracy have fallen into trouble from which none see
the issue, and even thy court is in want. A month hence the same thing
may happen in the palace of his holiness--"
"Silence!" interrupted the prince, "and call Dagon this moment."
Tutmosis ran out, but the banker appeared no earlier than evening.
Around a white mantle he wore a black belt.
"Hast thou gone mad?" cried the heir, at sight of this. "I will drive
off thy sadness immediately. I need a hundred talents at once. Go, and
show thyself not till thou bring them."
The banker covered his face and wept.
"What does this mean?" asked the prince, quickly.
"Lord," exclaimed Dagon, as he fell on his knees, "seize all my
property, sell me and my family. Take everything, even our lives--but
a hundred talents--where could I find wealth like that? Neither in
Egypt nor Phoenicia," continued he, sobbing.
"Set has seized thee, O Dagon," laughed the heir. "Couldst thou
believe that I thought of expelling thy Phoenicians?"
The banker fell at the prince's feet a second time.
"I know nothing--I am a common merchant, and thy slave--as many days
as there are between the new and the full moon would suffice to make
dust of me and spittle of my property."
"But explain what this means," said the prince, again impatient.
"I cannot explain anything, and even were I able I have a great seal
on my lips--I do nothing now but pray and lament."
"Do the Phoenicians pray also?" thought the prince.
"Unable to render any service," continued Dagon, "I will give good
counsel at least. There is here in Pi-Bast a renowned Syrian, Prince
Hiram, an old man, wise and tremendously wealthy. Summon him, Erpatr,
ask of him a hundred talents; perhaps he will be able to gratify
thee."
Since Rameses could get no explanations from the banker, he dismissed
him, and promised to send an embassy to Hiram.