Cleopatra: Being an Account of the Fall and Vengeance of Harmachis
()
About this ebook
H. Rider Haggard
H. Rider Haggard (1856–1925) was an English adventure novelist. Haggard studied law, but rather than pursuing a legal career took a secretarial position in what is now South Africa. His time there provided the inspiration for some of his most popular novels, including She (1887), an early classic of the lost world fantasy genre and one of the bestselling books of all time.
Read more from H. Rider Haggard
King Solomon's Mines Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Ivory Child Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Benita: An African Romance Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Dawn Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Treasure of the Lake Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Tale of Three Lions Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Smith and the Pharaohs and Other Tales Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Hunter Quatermain's Story Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Child of Storm Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Yellow God: An Idol of Africa Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Finished Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Brethren Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Ghost Kings Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Virgin of the Sun Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Wizard Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Moon of Israel: A Tale of the Exodus Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5King Solomon's Mines (illustrated by A. C. Michael) Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Nada the Lily Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Allan Quatermain: The Zulu Trilogy Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Lady of Blossholme Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Swallow: A Tale of the Great Trek Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The World's Desire (Barnes & Noble Digital Library) Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Wisdom's Daughter Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5
Related to Cleopatra
Related ebooks
Cleopatra Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Cleopatra Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsCleopatra (Barnes & Noble Digital Library) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsCleopatra Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsCleopatra - Henry Rider Haggard Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Song Celestial or Bhagavad-Gita Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsCleopatra by H. Rider Haggard - Delphi Classics (Illustrated) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsHieroglyphic Tales Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsShe And Allan: "Passion is like the lightning, it is beautiful, and it links the earth to heaven, but alas it blinds!" Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Ancient Allan Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsParsifal: Story and Analysis of Wagner's Great Opera Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsDelphi Collected Works of Saint Jerome (Illustrated) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Romance of Sorcery Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAchil & The Dragon Lord Of Osgaroth Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsFive Books Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Gospel of the Witches Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Vikram and the Vampire Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Book of Khalid Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Hare's Vision - a new Irish myth Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsHoly Smoke Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The People of the Mist Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings3 books to know Werewolves Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsDarkness and Dawn Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Ancient Allan: “Wealth is good, and if it comes our way we will take it; but a gentleman does not sell himself for wealth.” Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMorning Star Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsIn the Valley of the Sorceress (Cryptofiction Classics - Weird Tales of Strange Creatures) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Vergilius: A Tale of the Coming of Christ Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAllan Quatermain Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Man from Archangel, and Other Tales of Adventure Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAlchemy Rediscovered and Restored Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Action & Adventure Fiction For You
Murder Your Employer: The McMasters Guide to Homicide Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Dust: Book Three of the Silo Series Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Swamp Story: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Poisonwood Bible: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Shift: Book Two of the Silo Series Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Leave the World Behind: A Novel Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Wool: Book One of the Silo Series Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Billy Summers Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Shantaram: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Count of Monte Cristo Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5We, the Drowned Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Eight Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Scarlet Pimpernel Books Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Last Kingdom Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Prodigal Summer: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros Summary: by Rebecca Yarros - A Comprehensive Summary Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Our Town: A Play in Three Acts Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Bean Trees: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Darkness That Comes Before Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Timeborne: BLADE OF SHADOWS Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Grace of Kings Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Outlawed Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Most Dangerous Game Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Huckleberry Finn Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5James Patterson's Alex Cross Series Best Reading Order with Checklist and Summaries Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5The Postman Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Invasion Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Golden Notebook: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
Related categories
Reviews for Cleopatra
0 ratings0 reviews
Book preview
Cleopatra - H. Rider Haggard
Country.
BOOK I
THE PREPARATION OF HARMACHIS
CHAPTER 1
Of The Birth Of Harmachis,
Of The Prophecy Of The Hathors, And
Of 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 uraeus, 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 Lagidae 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 (6) 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:
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 Philae. 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 2
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 scarabaeus 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 Lagidae; 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 Philae;, 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 (7) 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