by Georg Ebers
CHAPTER XLIV.
While the friends were occupied in restoring Uarda to animation, and intaking affectionate care of her, Katuti was walking restlessly backwardsand forwards in her tent.
Soon after she had slipped out for the purpose of setting fire tothe palace, Scherau's cry had waked up Nefert, and Katuti found herdaughter's bed empty when, with blackened hands and limbs trembling withagitation, she came back from her criminal task.
Now she waited in vain for Nemu and Paaker.
Her steward, whom she sent on repeated messages of enquiry whether theRegent had returned, constantly brought back a negative answer, andadded the information that he had found the body of old Hekt lying onthe open ground. The widow's heart sank with fear; she was full of darkforebodings while she listened to the shouts of the people engagedin putting out the fire, the roll of drums, and the trumpets of thesoldiers calling each other to the help of the king.
To these sounds now was added the dull crash of falling timbers andwalls.
A faint smile played upon her thin lips, and she thought to herself:"There--that perhaps fell on the king, and my precious son-in-law, whodoes not deserve such a fate--if we had not fallen into disgrace, andif since the occurrences before Kadesh he did not cling to his indulgentlord as a calf follows a cow."
She gathered fresh courage, and fancied she could hear the voice ofEthiopian troops hailing the Regent as king--could see Ani decoratedwith the crown of Upper and Lower Egypt, seated on Rameses' throne, andherself by his side in rich though unpretending splendor. She picturedherself with her son and daughter as enjoying Mena's estate, freed fromdebt and increased by Ani's generosity, and then a new, intoxicatinghope came into her mind. Perhaps already at this moment her daughterwas a widow, and why should she not be so fortunate as to induce Ani toselect her child, the prettiest woman in Thebes, for his wife? Thenshe, the mother of the queen, would be indeed unimpeachable, andall-powerful. She had long since come to regard the pioneer as a toolto be cast aside, nay soon to be utterly destroyed; his wealthmight probably at some future time be bestowed upon her son, who haddistinguished himself at Kadesh, and whom Ani must before long promoteto be his charioteer or the commander of the chariot warriors.
Flattered by these fancies, she forgot every care as she walked fasterand faster to and fro in her tent. Suddenly the steward, whom she hadthis time sent to the very scene of the fire, rushed into the tent, andwith every token of terror broke to her the news that the king and hischarioteer were hanging in mid air on a narrow wooden parapet, and thatunless some miracle happened they must inevitably be killed. It wassaid that incendiaries had occasioned the fire, and he, the steward, hadhastened forward to prepare her for evil news as the mangled body of thepioneer, which had been identified by the ring on his finger, andthe poor little corpse of Nemu, pierced through by an arrow, had beencarried past him.
Katuti was silent for a moment.
"And the king's sons?" she asked with an anxious sigh.
"The Gods be praised," replied the steward, "they succeeded in lettingthemselves down to the ground by a rope made of their garments knottedtogether, and some were already safe when I came away."
Katuti's face clouded darkly; once more she sent forth her messenger.The minutes of his absence seemed like days; her bosom heaved in stormyagitation, then for a moment she controlled herself, and again herheart seemed to cease beating--she closed her eyes as if her anguish ofanxiety was too much for her strength. At last, long after sunrise, thesteward reappeared.
Pale, trembling, hardly able to control his voice, he threw himself onthe ground at her feet crying out:
"Alas! this night! prepare for the worst, mistress! May Isis comfortthee, who saw thy son fall in the service of his king and father! MayAmon, the great God of Thebes, give thee strength! Our pride, our hope,thy son is slain, killed by a falling beam."
Pale and still as if frozen, Katuti shed not a tear; for a minute shedid not speak, then she asked in a dull tone:
"And Rameses?"
"The Gods be praised!" answered the servant, "he is safe-rescued byMena!"
"And Ani?"
"Burnt!--they found his body disfigured out of all recognition; theyknew him again by the jewels he wore at the banquet."
Katuti gazed into vacancy, and the steward started back as from a madwoman when, instead of bursting into tears, she clenched her smalljewelled hands, shook her fists in the air, and broke into loud, wildlaughter; then, startled at the sound of her own voice, she suddenlybecame silent and fixed her eyes vacantly on the ground. She neither sawnor heard that the captain of the watch, who was called "the eyes andears of the king," had come in through the door of her tent followed byseveral officers and a scribe; he came up to her, and called her byher name. Not till the steward timidly touched her did she collect hersenses like one suddenly roused from deep sleep.
"What are you doing in my tent?" she asked the officer, drawing herselfup haughtily.
"In the name of the chief judge of Thebes," said the captain of thewatch solemnly. "I arrest you, and hail you before the high court ofjustice, to defend yourself against the grave and capital charges ofhigh treason, attempted regicide, and incendiarism."
"I am ready," said the widow, and a scornful smile curled her lips. Thenwith her usual dignity she pointed to a seat and said:
"Be seated while I dress."
The officer bowed, but remained standing at the door of the tent whileshe arranged her black hair, set her diadem on her brow, opened herlittle ointment chest, and took from it a small phial of the rapidpoison strychnine, which some months before she had procured throughNemu from the old witch Hekt.
"My mirror!" she called to a maid servant, who squatted in a corner ofthe tent. She held the metal mirror so as to conceal her face from thecaptain of the watch, put the little flask to her lips and emptied itat one mouthful. The mirror fell from her hand, she staggered, a deadlyconvulsion seized her--the officer rushed forward, and while she fixedher dying look upon him she said:
"My game is lost, but Ameni--tell Ameni that he will not win either."
She fell forward, murmured Nefert's name, struggled convulsively and wasdead.
When the draught of happiness which the Gods prepare for some few men,seems to flow clearest and purest, Fate rarely fails to infuse into itsome drop of bitterness. And yet we should not therefore disdain it, forit is that very drop of bitterness which warns us to drink of the joysof life thankfully, and in moderation.
The perfect happiness of Mena and Nefert was troubled by the fearfuldeath of Katuti, but both felt as if they now for the first time knewthe full strength of their love for each other. Mena had to make up tohis wife for the loss of mother and brother, and Nefert to restore toher husband much that he had been robbed of by her relatives, and theyfelt that they had met again not merely for pleasure but to be to eachother a support and a consolation.
Rameses quitted the scene of the fire full of gratitude to the Gods whohad shown such grace to him and his. He ordered numberless steers to besacrificed, and thanksgiving festivals to be held throughout the land;but he was cut to the heart by the betrayal to which he had fallen avictim. He longed--as he always did in moments when the balance of hismind had been disturbed--for an hour of solitude, and retired to thetent which had been hastily erected for him. He could not bear to enterthe splendid pavilion which had been Ani's; it seemed to him infestedwith the leprosy of falsehood and treason.
For an hour he remained alone, and weighed the worst he had suffered atthe hands of men against that which was good and cheering, and he foundthat the good far outweighed the evil. He vividly realized the magnitudeof his debt of gratitude, not to the Immortals only, but also tohis earthly friends, as he recalled every moment of this morning'sexperience.
"Gratitude," he said to himself, "was impressed on you by your mother;you yourself have taught your children to be grateful. Piety isgratitude to the Gods, and he only is really generous who does notforget the gratitude he
owes to men."
He had thrown off all bitterness of feeling when he sent for Bent-Anatand Pentaur to be brought to his tent. He made his daughter relate atfull length how the poet had won her love, and though he frequentlyinterrupted her with blame as well as praise, his heart was full offatherly joy when he laid his darling's hand in that of the poet.
Bent-Anat laid her head in full content on the breast of the nobleAssa's grandson, but she would have clung not less fondly to Pentaur thegardener's son.
"Now you are one of my own children," said Rameses; and he desired thepoet to remain with him while he commanded the heralds, ambassadors, andinterpreters to bring to him the Asiatic princes, who were detained intheir own tents on the farther side of the Nile, that he might concludewith them such a treaty of peace as might continue valid for generationsto come. Before they arrived, the young princes came to their father'stent, and learned from his own lips the noble birth of Pentaur, and thatthey owed it to their sister that in him they saw another brother; theywelcomed him with sincere affection, and all, especially Rameri, warmlycongratulated the handsome and worthy couple.
The king then called Rameri forward from among his brothers, and thankedhim before them all for his brave conduct during the fire. He hadalready been invested with the robe of manhood after the battleof Kadesh; he was now appointed to the command of a legion ofchariot-warriors, and the order of the lion to wear round his neckwas bestowed on him for his bravery. The prince knelt, and thanked hisfather; but Rameses took the curly head in his hands and said:
"You have won praise and reward by your splendid deeds from the fatherwhom you have saved and filled with pride. But the king watches over thelaws, and guides the destiny cf this land, the king must blame you, nayperhaps punish you. You could not yield to the discipline of school,where we all must learn to obey if we would afterwards exercise ourauthority with moderation, and without any orders you left Egypt andjoined the army. You showed the courage and strength of a man, but thefolly of a boy in all that regards prudence and foresight--things harderto learn for the son of a race of heroes than mere hitting and slashingat random; you, without experience, measured yourself against masters ofthe art of war, and what was the consequence? Twice you fell a prisonerinto the hands of the enemy, and I had to ransom you.
"The king of the Danaids gave you up in exchange for his daughter,and he rejoices long since in the restoration of his child; but we,in losing her, lost the most powerful means of coercing the seafaringnations of the islands and northern coasts of the great sea who areconstantly increasing in might and daring, and so diminished our chancesof securing a solid and abiding peace.
"Thus--through the careless wilfulness of a boy, the great workis endangered which I had hoped to have achieved. It grieves meparticularly to humiliate your spirit to-day, when I have had so muchreason to encourage you with praise. Nor will I punish you, only warnyou and teach you. The mechanism of the state is like the working of thecogged wheels which move the water-works on the shore of the Nile-ifone tooth is missing the whole comes to a stand-still however strongthe beasts that labor to turn it. Each of you--bear this in mind--is amain-wheel in the great machine of the state, and can serve an end onlyby acting unresistingly in obedience to the motive power. Now rise! wemay perhaps succeed in obtaining good security from the Asiatic king,though we have lost our hostage."
Heralds at this moment marched into the tent, and announced thatthe representative of the Cheta king and the allied princes were inattendance in the council tent; Rameses put on the crown of Upper andLower Egypt and all his royal adornments; the chamberlain who carriedthe insignia of his power, and his head scribe with his decoration ofplumes marched before him, while his sons, the commanders in chief, andthe interpreters followed him. Rameses took his seat on his throne withgreat dignity, and the sternest gravity marked his demeanor while hereceived the homage of the conquered and fettered kings.
The Asiatics kissed the earth at his feet, only the king of the Danaidsdid no more than bow before him. Rameses looked wrathfully at him,and ordered the interpreter to ask him whether he considered himselfconquered or no, and the answer was given that he had not come beforethe Pharaoh as a prisoner, and that the obeisance which Rameses requiredof him was regarded as a degradation according to the customs of hisfree-born people, who prostrated them selves only before the Gods. Hehoped to become an ally of the king of Egypt, and he asked would hedesire to call a degraded man his friend?
Rameses measured the proud and noble figure before him with a glance,and said severely:
"I am prepared to treat for peace only with such of my enemies as arewilling to bow to the double crown that I wear. If you persist inyour refusal, you and your people will have no part in the favorableconditions that I am prepared to grant to these, your allies."
The captive prince preserved his dignified demeanor, which wasnevertheless free from insolence, when these words of the king wereinterpreted to him, and replied that he had come intending to procurepeace at any cost, but that he never could nor would grovel in the dustat any man's feet nor before any crown. He would depart on the followingday; one favor, however, he requested in his daughter's name and hisown--and he had heard that the Egyptians respected women. The king knew,of course, that his charioteer Mena had treated his daughter, not as aprisoner but as a sister, and Praxilla now felt a wish, which he himselfshared, to bid farewell to the noble Mena, and his wife, and to thankhim for his magnanimous generosity. Would Rameses permit him once moreto cross the Nile before his departure, and with his daughter to visitMena in his tent.
Rameses granted his prayer: the prince left the tent, and thenegotiations began.
In a few hours they were brought to a close, for the Asiatic andEgyptian scribes had agreed, in the course of the long march southwards,on the stipulations to be signed; the treaty itself was to be drawn upafter the articles had been carefully considered, and to be signed inthe city of Rameses called Tanis--or, by the numerous settlers in itsneighborhood, Zoan. The Asiatic princes were to dine as guests with theking; but they sat at a separate table, as the Egyptians would have beendefiled by sitting at the same table with strangers.
Rameses was not perfectly satisfied. If the Danaids went away withoutconcluding a treaty with him, it was to be expected that the peace whichhe was so earnestly striving for would before long be again disturbed;and he nevertheless felt that, out of regard for the other conqueredprinces, he could not forego any jot of the humiliation which hehad required of their king, and which he believed to be due tohimself--though he had been greatly impressed by his dignified manlinessand by the bravery of the troops that had followed him into the field.
The sun was sinking when Mena, who that day had leave of absence fromthe king, came in great excitement up to the table where the princeswere sitting and craved the king's permission to make an importantcommunication. Rameses signed consent; the charioteer went close up tohim, and they held a short but eager conversation in a low voice.
Presently the king stood up and said, speaking to his daughter:
"This day which began so horribly will end joyfully. The fair child whosaved you to-day, but who so nearly fell a victim to the flames, is ofnoble origin."
"She cones of a royal house," said Rameri, disrespectfully interruptinghis father. Rameses looked at him reprovingly. "My sons are silent," hesaid, "till I ask them to speak."
The prince colored and looked down; the king signed to Bent-Anat andPentaur, begged his guests to excuse him for a short time, and was aboutto leave the tent; but Bent-Anat went up to him, and whispered a fewwords to him with reference to her brother. Not in vain: the kingpaused, and reflected for a few moments; then he looked at Rameri, whostood abashed, and as if rooted to the spot where he stood. The kingcalled his name, and beckoned him to follow him.
