The Greatest Historical Novels of Georg Ebers - Georg Ebers

Скачать книгу

in the afternoon joined the throng who followed the procession. They mounted the eastern cliff of the hills close by the tomb of Mena’s forefathers, which a prophet of Amon, named Neferhotep—Mena’s great-grandfather—had constructed. Its narrow doorway was besieged by a crowd, for within the first of the rock-chambers of which it consisted, a harper was singing a dirge for the long-since buried prophet, his wife and his sister. The song had been composed by the poet attached to his house; it was graven in the stone of the second rock-room of the tomb, and Neferhotep had left a plot of ground in trust to the Necropolis, with the charge of administering its revenues for the payment of a minstrel, who every-year at the feast of the dead should sing the monody to the accompaniment of his lute.104

      The charioteer well knew this dirge for his ancestor, and had often sung it to Nefert, who had accompanied him on her lute; for in their hours of joy also—nay especially—the Egyptians were wont to remember their dead.

      Now the three companions listened to the minstrel as he sang:

      “Now the great man is at rest,

       Gone to practise sweeter duties.

       Those that die are the elect

       Since the Gods have left the earth.

       Old men pass and young men come;

       Yea, a new Sun rises daily

       When the old sun has found rest

       In the bosom of the night.

       “Hail, O Prophet! on this feast day

       Odorous balsams, fragrant resins

       Here we bring—and offer garlands,

       Throwing flowers down before thee,

       And before thy much-loved sister,

       Who has found her rest beside thee.

       “Songs we sing, and strike the lyre

       To thy memory, and thine honor.

       All our cares are now forgotten,

       Joy and hope our breasts are filling;

       For the day of our departure

       Now draws near, and in the silence

       Of the farther shore is rest.”

      When the song ceased, several people pressed into the little oratory to express their gratitude to the deceased prophet by laying a few flowers on his altar. Nefert and Rameri also went in, and when Nefert had offered a long and silent prayer to the glorified spirits of her dead, that they might watch over Mena, she laid her garland beside the grave in which her husband’s mother rested.

      Many members of the court circle passed close to the royal party without recognizing them; they made every effort to reach the scene of the festival, but the crowd was so great that the ladies had several times to get into a tomb to avoid it. In each they found the altar loaded with offerings, and, in most, family-parties, who here remembered their dead, with meat and fruits, beer and wine, as though they were departed travellers who had found some far off rest, and whom they hoped sooner or later to see again.

      The sun was near setting when at last the princess and her companions reached the spot where the feast was being held. Here stood numbers of stalls and booths, with eatables of every sort, particularly sweet cakes for the children, dates, figs, pomegranates, and other fruits. Under light awnings, which kept off the sun, were sold sandals and kerchiefs of every material and hue, ornaments, amulets, fans, and sun-shades, sweet essences of every kind, and other gifts for offerings or for the toilet. The baskets of the gardeners and flower-girls were already empty, but the money-changers were full of business, and the tavern and gambling booths were driving a brisk trade.

      Friends and acquaintances greeted each other kindly, while the children showed each other their new sandals, the cakes they had won at the games, or the little copper rings they had had given to them, and which must now be laid out. The largest crowd was gathered to see the magicians from the House of Seti, round which the mob squatted on the ground in a compact circle, and the children were good-naturedly placed in the front row.

      When Bent-Anat reached the place all the religious solemnity was ended.

      There stood the canopy under which the king and his family were used to listen to the festal discourse, and under its shade sat to-day the Regent Ani. They could see too the seats of the grandees, and the barriers which kept the people at a distance from the Regent, the priests, and the nobles.

      Here Ameni himself had announced to the multitude the miracle of the sacred heart, and had proclaimed that a new Apis had been found among the herds of the Regent Ani.

      His announcement of these divine tokens had been repeated from mouth to mouth; they were omens of peace and happiness for the country through the means of a favorite of the Gods; and though no one said it, the dullest could not fail to see that this favorite was none other than Ani, the descendant of the great Hatasu, whose prophet had been graced by the transfer to him of the heart of the sacred rain. All eyes were fixed on Ani, who had sacrificed before all the people to the sacred heart, and received the high-priest’s blessing.

      Pentaur, too, had ended his discourse when Bent-Anat reached the scene of the festival. She heard an old man say to his son:

      “Life is hard. It often seems to me like a heavy burden laid on our poor backs by the cruel Gods; but when I heard the young priest from the House of Seti, I felt that, after all, the Immortals are good, and we have much to thank them for.”

      In another place a priest’s wife said to her son:

      “Could you see Pentaur well, Hor-Uza? He is of humble birth, but he stands above the greatest in genius and gifts, and will rise to high things.”

      Two girls were speaking together, and one said to the other:

      “The speaker is the handsomest man I ever saw, and his voice sounds like soft music.”

      “And how his eyes shone when he spoke of truth as the highest of all virtues!” replied the other. “All the Gods, I believe, must dwell in him.”

      Bent-Anat colored as these words fell on her ear. It was growing dark, and she wished to return home but Rameri wished to follow the procession as it marched through the western valley by torch-light, so that the grave of his grandfather Seti should also be visited. The princess unwillingly yielded, but it would in any case have been difficult to reach the river while every one was rushing in the opposite direction; so the two ladies, and Rameri, let themselves be carried along by the crowd, and by the time the daylight was gone, they found themselves in the western valley, where to-night no beasts of prey dared show themselves; jackals and hyenas had fled before the glare of the torches, and the lanterns made of colored papyrus.

      The smoke of the torches mingled with the dust stirred by a thousand feet, and the procession moved along, as it were, in a cloud, which also shrouded the multitude that followed.

      The three companions had labored on as far as the hovel of the paraschites Pinem, but here they were forced to pause, for guards drove back the crowd to the right and left with long staves, to clear a passage for the procession as it approached.

      “See, Rameri,” said Bent-Anat, pointing out the little yard of the hut which stood only a few paces from them. “That is where the fair, white girl lives, whom I ran over. But she is much better. Turn round; there, behind the thorn-hedge, by the little fire which shines full in your (her? D.W.) face—there she sits, with her grandfather.”

      The prince stood on tip-toe, looked into the humble plot of ground, and then said in a subdued voice “What a lovely creature! But what is she doing with the old man? He seems to be praying, and she first holds a handkerchief before his mouth, and then rubs his temples. And how unhappy she looks!”

      “The paraschites must be ill,” replied Bent-Anat. “He must have had too much wine down at the feast,” said Rameri laughing. “No doubt of it! Only look how his lips tremble, and his eyes roll. It is hideous—he looks like one possessed.”105

      “He is unclean too!”

Скачать книгу