The family of the poor carpenter from Nazareth stood on the soil of
ancient Egypt. How had they crossed the sea? Joseph thought in a
fishing boat, but it had all happened as in a dream. He opened his
eyes, and sought the mountains of Nazareth, and saw the dark grove of
palm-trees with their bare trunks and sword-shaped leaves, and he saw
the gate flanked by enormous stone figures which, lying on their
bellies, stretched out two paws in front of them and lifted huge human
heads high in the air. He saw the triangular form of the pyramids rise
against the yellow background. Strange odours filled the air, as well
as shrill noises made by fantastic figures, and every sound struck hard
and sharp on the ear. Joseph's heart was heavy. His home was
abandoned, and they were in a strange land in which they must certainly
be lost.
Mary, who was always outwardly calm, but inwardly bound up passionately
in the child, looked at Joseph's stick, and said: "Joseph, it is a nice
thought of yours to deck your staff with a flower in token of our safe
arrival." Then Joseph looked at his stick and marvelled. For from the
branch which he had cut at Sinai there sprouted a living, snow-white
lily. Oh, Joseph, 'tis the flower of purity! But what was the use of
all the flowers in the world when he was so full of care? He lifted
the child in his arms, and when he looked at his sunny countenance the
shadows were dispersed. But they experienced shadows enough in the
land of the sun, where men had built a splendid temple to the sun-god
like that which the Israelites at home had built to the great Jehovah.
Things did not go very well with these poor Jews during the long years
they remained in this land. They did not understand the language; but
their simple, kindly character and their readiness to be of use told in
their favour. In that treeless land carpentry was at a discount. They
built themselves a hut out of reeds and mud on the bank of the Nile
near the royal city of Memphis, but in such a building the carpenter's
skill did not shine. Still it was better than the dwellings of other
poor people by the riverside. Joseph thought of fishing for a
livelihood; but the fish-basket that he wove was so successful that the
neighbours supplied him with food so that he might make such baskets
for them. And soon people came from the town to buy his baskets, and
when he carried his wares to market, he got rid of them all on the way.
So basket-making became his trade, and he thought how once the little
Moses was saved in a basket on the Nile. And just as his work was
liked, so also did Mary and himself win affection, and they confessed
that life went better on the banks of the Nile than in poor little
Nazareth, for veritably there were fleshpots in Egypt. If only they
could have crushed their hearts' longing for home!
When the little Jesus began to walk, the mothers who were their
neighbours wished him to make friends with their children and play with
them. But the boy was reserved and awkward with strangers. He
preferred to wander alone at evening-time besides the stream and gaze
at the big lotus flowers growing out of the mud, and at the crocodiles
which sometimes crawled out of the water, and lifting their heads
towards the sky, opened their great jaws as if they would drink in the
sunshine. He often remained out longer than he ought, and came back
with glowing cheeks, excited by some pleasure about which he said
nothing. When he had eaten his figs or dates, and lay in his little
bed, his father and mother sat close by, and spoke of the land of their
fathers, or told ancient tales of their ancestors until he fell asleep.
Joseph instructed the boy in the Jewish writings; but it was soon
apparent that Joseph was the pupil, for what he read with difficulty
from the roll, little Jesus spoke out spontaneously from his innermost
soul. So he grew into a slender, delicate stripling, learned the
foreign tongue, marked the customs, and followed them so far as they
pleased him. There was much in him that he did not owe to education;
although he said little, his mother observed it. And once she asked
Joseph: "Tell me, are other children like our Jesus?"
He answered; "So far as I know them--he is different."
One day, when Jesus was a little older, something happened. Joseph had
gone with the boy to the place where the boats land, in order to offer
his baskets for sale. There was a stir among the people: soldiers in
brilliant uniforms and carrying long spears marched along; then came
two heralds blowing their horns as if they would split the air with
their sharp tones; and behind came six black slaves drawing a golden
chariot in which sat Pharaoh. He was a pale man with piercing eyes,
dressed in costly robes, a sparkling coronet on his black, twisted
hair. The people shouted joyfully, but he heeded them not; he leaned
back wearily on his cushions. But all at once he lifted his head a
little; a boy in the crowd, the stranger basket-maker's little son,
attracted his attention. Whether it was his beauty or something
unusual about the boy that struck him, we cannot say, but he ordered
the carriage to be stopped, and the child to be brought to him.
Joseph humbly came forward with the boy, crossed his hands on his
breast, and made a deep obeisance.
"That is your son?" said the king in his own language.
Joseph bowed affirmatively.
"You are a Jew! Will you sell me the boy?" asked Pharaoh.
And then Joseph: "Pharaoh! although I am a descendant of Jacob, whose
sons sold their brother Joseph into Egypt, I do not deserve your irony.
We are poor people, but the child is our most cherished possession."
"I only spoke in kindness about the selling," said the king. "You are
my subjects, and the boy is my property. Take him, Hamar."
The servant was ready to put his hand on the little boy, who stood by
quietly and looked resolutely at the king. Joseph fell on his knees
and respectfully represented that he and his family were not Egyptian
subjects, but lived there as strangers, and implored the almighty
Pharaoh to allow him the rights of hospitality.
"I know nothing about all that, my good man," said the king. Then,
catching sight of the boy's angry face, he laughed. "Meseems, my young
Jew, that you would crush me to powder. Let me live a little longer in
this pleasant land of Egypt. I shall not harm you. You are much too
beautiful a child for that." He stopped, and then continued in a
different tone: "Wait, and look more closely at Pharaoh, and see if he
is really so terribly wicked, and whether it would be so dreadful to
live in his palace and hand him the goblet when he is thirsty. Well?
Be assured, old man, I shall do you no violence. Boy, you shall come
to my court of your own free will, you shall share the education and
instruction of the children of my nobles; only sometimes I shall have
you with me, you fine young gazelle. Now go home with your father.
To-morrow I will send and ask, mark you--only ask, not command. He who
is tired of plundered booty knows how to value a free gift. You hear
what I say?"
When the crowd heard Pharaoh speak to these poor people with such
unwonted kindness, the like of which they had never heard before, they
uttered mad shouts of joy. As the king proceeded on his way in his
two-wheeled golden chariot, a long array of soldiers, cymbal players,
and dancing girls following behind, the palm-groves resounded with the
cries of the people. Joseph fled with the boy down narrow streets so
as to avoid the crowd that wanted to press round him and look at and
pet Pharaoh's little favourite.
The same evening an anxious council was held in the little hut. The
boy, Jesus, was drawn to Pharaoh without saying why. They were
terrified about it. The two working people had no idea that their life
was becoming too narrow for his young soul, that he wanted to fortify
himself with the knowledge to be obtained from the papyrus rolls of the
ancient men of wisdom, with the intellectual products of the land of
the Pharaohs. And still less did they imagine that a deeper reason led
their boy to desire to learn something of life in the world.
Joseph admitted that the manuscripts in the royal collection counted
for something. But Mary put little trust in the writings, and still
less in Pharaoh.
"We've had," she said, "a painful experience of the good intentions of
kings. Having escaped the violence of Herod with difficulty, are we to
submit to that of Pharaoh? They all play the same game, only in a
different way. What Jerusalem could not accomplish by force, Memphis
will accomplish by cunning."
Joseph said: "My dear wife, you are not naturally so mistrustful. Yet
after what we have gone through it is no wonder. This legend of a
young King of the Jews has been a real fatality to us. Whoever started
it can never answer for all the woes it brings."
"Let us leave that to the Lord, Joseph, and do what it is ours to do."
When Joseph was alone with her he said: "It seems to me, Mary, that you
believe our Jesus is destined for great things. But you must remember
that a basket-maker's hut is not exactly the right place for that. He
would have a better chance at Pharaoh's court--like Moses. And we know
that the King of Egypt is no friend of Herod. No, that is not his
line; he really wishes well to the child, and no one can better
understand that than ourselves. Did he not say that our darling should
be treated like the children of the nobles?"
In the end she decided to do what was best for the child. He was past
ten years old, and if he wished to go from the mud hut to the palace,
well, she would not forbid it.
Jesus heard her words. "Mother," he said, and stood in front of her,
"I do not wish to go from the mud hut to the palace, but I want to see
the world and men and how they live. I am not abandoning my parents to
go to Pharaoh--although I go, I remain here with you."
"You remain with us," said his mother, "and yet I see that even now you
are no longer here."
But she would not let him know how it was with her. He should not see
her weep. She would not spoil his pleasure. And then they discovered
that after all he was not going very far away, only from the Nile to
the town, and that Pharaoh had promised him liberty; he could visit his
parents, and return to them whenever he so wished. But he would no
longer be the same child who went from them. Mary reflected that that
was the usual case with mother and son; the youth gave himself up more
and more to strangers, and less and less of him remained to his mother.
There remained to her the memory that she had borne him in pain, that
she had nourished him with her life; she had a claim on him more sacred
and everlasting than any other could have. But gradually and
inevitably he separated himself from his mother, and what she would do
for him, and give him, and be to him, he kindly but decidedly set
aside. She must even give him her prayerful blessing in secret; she
hardly dared to touch his head with her trembling hands.
Next day at noon a royal litter stood before the hut. Two slaves were
the bearers, one of whom was old and feeble. When Mary saw the litter
she exclaimed that she would not allow her child to lie on so soft a
couch. The boy smiled a little, so that two dimples appeared on his
rosy cheeks, and said:
"Why, mother, do you think I would ride on those cushions? Now, let
the sick slave get in, and I will take his place."
But the leader of the little procession was not agreeable. The boy
could do as he liked, stay, or go with them.
"I shall stay," said Jesus, "and go to Pharaoh when I please." The
litter returned empty to the palace.
The next day the boy made up his mind to go. His parents accompanied
him through the palm-grove to the town. He walked between father and
mother in his humble garb, and Joseph gave him good advice the while.
Mary was silent and invoked the heavenly powers to protect her child.
Only the boy was admitted through the gateway of the palace; father and
mother remained behind and looked fearfully after their Jesus, who
turned round to wave to them. His face was glad, and that comforted
the mother. The father thought it incomprehensible that a child could
so cheerfully and heedlessly part from the only creatures who cared for
him; but he kept his thought to himself.
The boy felt curiosity, satisfaction, and repugnance all at the same
time, when he gave himself into the hands of the servants, who led him
to a refreshing bath, anointed him with sweet-smelling oil, and clad
him in a silken garment. But he desired to learn what life in the
royal palace was like. And gradually its splendour began to enfold
him. The Arabian tales which his father loved to tell him contained
marvels and splendours, but nothing to be compared with the
magnificence and brilliance that now assailed his senses. Marble
staircases as broad as streets, halls as lofty as temples, marble
pillars, brilliantly painted domes. The sun came through the windows
in every colour there is, and was reflected red, blue, green, and gold
by the shining walls. But more fairy-like were the nights, when
thousands of lamps burned in the halls, a forest of candelabra shone
like a conflagration kept within bounds; when the courtiers seemed to
sink into the carpets and divans and silken and down coverlets; when
the sweet-smelling incense rose from the golden censers and intoxicated
the brain; when a hundred servants made ready the banquet of
indescribable luxury, and carried it in silver dishes, alabaster bowls,
and crystal goblets; when youths and maidens, with arms entwined,
crowned each other with wreaths of roses; when the fanfares sounded,
and the cymbals clashed, and song gushed from maidens' throats; and
when at length Pharaoh entered in flowing purple robes adorned with a
thousand sparkling diamond stars--on his head an indented coronet,
shining like carbuncle--the god! the sun-god! On all this our boy from
the Nile hut looked as at something wonderful that had nothing to do
with him. A fan of shimmering peacocks' feathers was put into his
hand. Other boys had similar fans, and with half-bared limbs stood
close to the guests and fanned them into coolness. Young Jesus was to
do that for Pharaoh, but he did not do it, and sat on the floor and
never grew weary of looking at Pharaoh's pale face. The king answered
his gaze kindly: "I think that is the proud youth from the Nile, who
does not desire to sit at the feet of Pharaoh."
"He shall sit at the right hand of God," sang the choir. Slowly, with
the air of an irritated lion, the king turned his head in order to see
what stupid choirmaster mingled Hebrew verses with the hymn of Osiris.
Then ensued noise and confusion. The windows, behind which was the
darkness, shone with a red light. The people had assembled before the
palace with torches in order to do homage to Pharaoh, the son of Light.
The king looked annoyed. Such homage was repeated every new moon--he
desired it, and yet it bored him. He beckoned to the cup-bearers, he
wanted a goblet of wine. That brought the blood to his cheeks, and the
light to his eyes. He joined in the hymn of praise to Osiris, and his
whole form glowed with strength and gladness.
When the quiet night succeeded the luxurious day, so still was it that
the lapping of the waves of the Nile might be heard. Jesus lay on a
curtained couch of down, and could not sleep. How well he had slept in
the hut by the Nile! He was hot and rose and looked out of the window.
The stars sparkled like tiny suns. He lay down again, prayed to his
Father, and fell asleep. The next day, when the feast was over, he
would find the rooms in which the old writings were kept, and the
teachers who would instruct him. But it was not like the feast that
comes to an end; it was repeated every day at the king's court.
It happened one night that the slaves stole around and woke each other.
Jesus became aware of the subdued noise and asked the cause. One
approached him and whispered, "Pharaoh weeps!" Like a mysterious
breath of wind it went through the palace, "Pharaoh weeps!" Then all
was still again, and the dreaming night lay over everything.
Jesus did not lie down again on the soft cushions, he rested on the
cool floor and thought. The king weeps! Arabia and India, Greece and
Rome have sent their costliest treasures to Memphis. Phoenician ships
cruise off the coasts of Gaul, Albion, and Germany in order to obtain
treasure for the great Pharaoh. His people surround him day after day
with homage, his life is at its prime. And he weeps? Was it not
perhaps that he sobbed in his dreams, or it may be laughed? But the
watchers think he weeps.