by Roger Green
Yet not one of the dead who voyaged in the Boat of Ra might pause there or set foot on the land: for they must pass into Amenti, the Third Region of the Duat where the Judgement Hall of Osiris stood waiting to receive them.
So the Boat came to the next portals, and at the word of power the great wooden doors screamed open on their pivots – yet not so loudly did they scream as the man who lay with one of the pivots turning in his eye as punishment for the evil he had done upon earth.
Into the Third Region sailed the Boat of Ra, and here the dead disembarked in the outer court of the Judgement Hall of Osiris. But the Boat itself continued on its way through the nine other Regions of the Night until the re-birth of Ra from out of the mouth of the Dragon of the East brought dawn once more upon earth and the rising of the sun. Yet the sun would not rise unless each night Ra fought and defeated the Dragon Apophis who seeks ever to devour him in the Tenth Region of the Night.
The Bais of Setna and Se-Osiris did not follow the Boat of Ra further, but flew over the Kas of the newly dead who came one by one to the portal of the Hall of Osiris and one by one were challenged by the Door-Keeper.
‘Stay!’ cried the Door-Keeper. ‘I will not announce thee unless thou knowest my name!’
‘Understander of Hearts is thy name,’ answered each instructed Ka. ‘Searcher of Bodies is thy name!’
‘Then to whom should I announce thee?’ asked the Door-Keeper.
‘Thou shouldst tell of my coming to the Interpreter of the Two Lands.’
‘Who then is the Interpreter of the Two Lands?’
‘It is Thoth the Wise God.’
So each Ka passed through the doorway and in the Hall Thoth was waiting to receive him, saying: ‘Come with me. Yet why hast thou come?’
‘I have come here to be announced,’ answered the Ka.
‘What is thy condition?’
‘I am pure of sin.’
‘Then to whom shall I announce thee? Shall I announce thee to him whose ceiling is of fire, whose walls are living serpents, whose pavement is water?’
‘Yes,’ answered the Ka, ‘announce me to him, for he is Osiris.’
So ibis-headed Thoth led the Ka to where Osiris sat upon his throne, wrapped in the mummy-clothes of the dead, wearing the uraeus crown upon his forehead and holding the scourge and the crook crossed upon his breast. Before him stood a huge balance with two scales, and jackal-headed Anubis, god of death, stepped forward to lead the Ka to the judgement.
But before the Weighing of the Heart, each dead man’s Ka spoke in his own defence, saying: ‘I am pure! I am pure! I am pure! I am pure! My purity is as that of the Bennu bird, the bright Phoenix whose nest is upon the stone persea-tree, the obelisk at Heliopolis. Behold me, I have come to you without sin, without guilt, without evil, without a witness against me, without one against whom I have taken action. I live on truth and I eat of truth. I have done that which men said and that with which gods are content. I have satisfied each god with that which he desires. I have given bread to the hungry, water to the thirsty, clothing to the naked and a boat to him who could not cross the River. I have provided offerings to the gods and offerings to the dead. So preserve me from Apophis, the “Eater-up of Souls” so protect me – Lord of the Atef-Crown, Lord of Breath, great god Osiris.’
Then came the moment which the evil-doer feared but the good man welcomed with joy.
Anubis took the heart out of the Ka that was the double of his earthly body and placed it in the Scale; and in the other Scale was set the Feather of Truth. Heavy was the heart of the evil-doer and it dragged down the Scale: lower and lower it sank, while Thoth marked the angle of the beam – until the Scale sank so low that Amemt the Devourer of Hearts could catch the sinner’s heart in his jaws and bear it away. Then the evil-doer was driven forth into the thick darkness of the Duat to dwell with Apophis the Terrible in the Pits of Fire.
But with the good man the Feather of Truth sank down and his heart rose up, and Thoth cried aloud to Osiris and the gods, ‘True and accurate are the words this man has spoken. He has not sinned; he has not done evil towards us. Let not the Eater-up of Souls have power over him. Grant that the eternal bread of Osiris be given to him, and a place in the Fields of Peace with the followers of Horus!’
Then Horus took the dead man by the hand and led him before Osiris, saying, ‘I have come to thee, O Unnefer Osiris, bringing with me this new Osiris. His heart was true at the coming forth from the Balance. He has not sinned against any god or any goddess. Thoth has weighed his heart and found it true and righteous. Grant that there may be given to him the bread and beer of Osiris; may he be like the followers of Horus!’
Then Osiris inclined his head, and the dead man passed rejoicing into the Fields of Peace there to dwell, taking joy in all the things he had loved best in life, in a rich land of plenty, until Osiris returned to earth, taking with him all those who had proved worthy to live for ever as his subjects.
All these things and more the Bai of Se-Osiris showed to the Bai of his father Setna; and at length he said, ‘Now you know why I wished your fate to be that of the poor man and not of the rich man. For the rich man was he in whose eye the pivot of the Third Door was turning – but the poor man dwells for ever in the Fields of Peace, clad in fine robes and owning all the offerings which accompanied the evil rich man to his tomb.’
Then the two Bais spread their golden wings and flew back through the night to Thebes. There they re-entered their bodies which their Kas had been guarding in the Temple of Osiris, and were able to return to their place as ordinary, living father and child, in time to see the sun rise beyond the eastern desert and turn the cliffs of Western Thebes to pink and purple and gold as a new day dawned over Egypt.
The Tale of the Two Brothers
Once upon a time there were two brothers called Anpu and Bata who lived beside the Nile. Anpu the elder had a beautiful wife, and a house with a garden round it, and rich land beside the river. Bata the younger lived with them, more like a son than a brother. But he worked hard and willingly for Anpu, making his clothes, driving his oxen out to pasture, ploughing and sowing the seed in the rich mud after the Inundation, and reaping the golden corn as springtime turned into the first hot days of summer. And in time he grew to be an excellent farmer: there was not his equal in the land, and Harmachis, the god of the rising sun, had him in his especial care.
Day by day Bata followed the oxen, and in the evening came back to the house laden with the herbs of the field, with milk and with wool, and with all the rest of the farm produce. And he would put them down before his elder brother who would be sitting there with his wife beside him; and he would eat and drink, and then go to sleep near the oxen to guard them from all harm. And when morning came he would take the bread he had baked and lay it before them before taking his own with him out into the fields as he drove the cattle to pasture.
As he walked behind the cattle one day, they spoke to him, saying, ‘The best grass for us is over there!’ And Harmachis gave him the power of understanding their words, so that he took them always to the best pastures, and the cattle grew exceedingly strong and beautiful, and had a multitude of fine calves.
For some time Bata and Anpu dwelt thus happily together, and the blessing of Harmachis that was upon all that Bata did brought prosperity such as few mortals have known.
Yet at last evil came out of it. For Anpu’s wife grew jealous of Bata and envious that all their good fortune depended on him, and she brought trouble between the two brothers with lying tales and wicked sinful words. And the end of it was that on an evening of spring when Bata came home driving the herd before him, and carrying on his head a load of herbs as was his custom, the foremost cow turned and said, as she entered the stable before him, ‘See, your elder brother is standing behind the door with a drawn knife in his hand to slay you. Therefore flee away.’
At first Bata paid no attention. But when the
next cow said the same thing, he looked down and saw his brother’s feet beneath the stable door. Then he cast down his load and fled away, with Anpu after him, knife in hand.
Then Bata cried out to Harmachis, god of the rising sun, saying: ‘My good lord who saves the good from the evil, help me now!’
Harmachis heard his cry and suddenly opened a channel of water between the two brothers which they could not cross since it was full of crocodiles. So they were forced to wait, one on either side, until the sun rose.
And when Harmachis had filled the world with the red light of morning, Bata cried to Anpu, ‘Why did you run after me to slay me without waiting to hear what I had to say to you? Am I not truly your brother, and have you not been to me as a father and your wife as a mother?’ And then he told all the tale of the wicked plots of Anpu’s wife, and made a vow before Harmachis that what he had said was true, and cut himself with his knife to sanctify the oath.
Then Anpu was filled with sorrow, and longed to go and comfort his brother and beg his forgiveness: but he could not do so because of the channel full of crocodiles which Harmachis had opened between them.
Presently Bata said, ‘Because you have believed evil of me and tried to kill me without letting me speak, I will leave you to tend your own cattle. And I shall go into the secret Valley of the Acacia, and there I shall call forth my Bai, my hidden soul, and place it on top of the acacia flowers. If anyone cuts down the acacia tree my Bai will fall to the ground, and you must come to seek it and put it in a cup of pure, cold water, so that it may return to my body once more and I may live. And you shall know that I have need of you and that the acacia has been cut down by this sign: when someone sets a cup of beer in your hand and the beer seethes in the cup and is troubled – then come in haste to seek me.’
So Bata journeyed across the desert to the Valley of the Acacia. But Anpu went back to his house, slew his wicked wife and flung her body to the dogs. Then he sat down and mourned for the loss of his younger brother.
Many days passed, and Bata still dwelt in the Valley of the Acacia. There he lived altogether alone, hunting the wild beasts in the desert and coming back each evening to lie down and sleep under the acacia which held his Bai upon its topmost bough. In time he built for himself a high tower in the Valley of the Acacia and filled it with good things so that it might be his home.
Now from time to time the gods themselves walked visibly in the Valley of the Acacia, and it chanced on a day that the nine who had highest honour at Memphis came to the tower where Bata dwelt.
When he saw them, Bata fell down and worshipped them. Then they spoke one to another about him, and at last Harmachis said: ‘Greetings to you, Bata! Do you dwell here alone?’ And when Bata bowed his head at this, Harmachis continued, ‘We know that you left your home on account of the wife of your brother Anpu – the wicked wife whom he has now slain. And we hold that you have done well, and shown yourself truly innocent.’
Then Harmachis turned to Khnemu the moulder of men and said, ‘It is good that Bata the righteous should dwell no more alone: make for him a woman to be his wife.’ So Khnemu took clay and fashioned it and made the most beautiful woman in all Egypt, perfect in shape and limb. And Ra breathed the breath of life into her, and the rest of the gods gave her gifts. Then they departed to their own place, and the seven Hathors came to spin the fate of Bata’s wife: and one of them said, ‘She will die a sharp death.’
Bata rose from his knees when the Hathors had gone and took his lovely wife by the hand, and led her into the tower. And there he gave her jewels and garments of golden net, and she dwelt happily with him and he loved her exceedingly.
Presently Bata began to go hunting again during the day. But before he left his wife he told her of how his Bai dwelt in the topmost flower of the acacia tree beside the tower, and what would chance to him if any man should find it. Also he said to her, ‘It has been revealed to me that trouble will come upon us from the river. So I command you to remain in the tower, and beneath the tree in the Valley of the Acacia, and never to go out of the valley to the shore lest the river should seize you.’
Bata told her this many times, and the more he told her the more she longed to go out of the Valley of the Acacia, and look upon this strange thing called the river. At last she could control her curiosity no longer, and one day when Bata was far away hunting in the desert, she stole out of the Valley of the Acacia and down to the river bank where she walked on the fresh grass, marvelling at the broad blue waters that danced and sparkled in the sunshine and rippled against the bank.
Presently, however, Hapi the Nile-god beheld her and was filled with desire. With a roar he came rushing down over the land to seize her, and she fled away towards the Valley of the Acacia crying aloud in terror. But as she turned to fly Hapi caught hold of her and before she could break away he snatched a lock of her hair.
Bata’s wife fled back to the tower and never again ventured out of the Valley of the Acacia down on to the shore of the Nile; nor did she tell her husband of her disobedience or of how she had been punished for it.
But the Nile carried the lock of hair down to the sacred lake at Memphis, and it floated in the water at the place where the washermen from the palace washed the clothes of Pharaoh – and the sweet scent from the lock of hair passed into Pharaoh’s garments.
Everyone marvelled at the perfume, which was sweeter and pleasanter than any that had ever been known before, and the washermen quarrelled among themselves, each claiming that he was responsible for giving Pharaoh this new and exquisite pleasure.
The overseer of the washermen was angry at these quarrels, and he went himself to the sacred lake to see if he could solve the mystery. He stood at the exact spot where the lock of hair was floating, and when he had seen it and smelt its fragrance he carried it in triumph to Pharaoh.
Then the scribes and magicians of Memphis were summoned into the presence of Pharaoh; and when they had studied the lock of hair, the Chief Magician said: ‘O Pharaoh – life, health, strength be to you! – this is a wondrous lock of hair that comes from the head of a daughter of Harmachis, god of the rising sun. The essence of every god is in her. It comes to you from a distant land to bring you praise and good fortune. And therefore we advise you to send out messengers to seek for her and bring her to be your wife.’
‘What you tell me fills my heart with delight and longing,’ said Pharaoh. ‘Therefore it is my decree that messengers go forth into all lands to find this daughter of Harmachis whom the gods have destined to be my bride.’
So messengers set out, each with a small company of soldiers to guard him, and they went far and wide in search of the princess with the scented hair. One party came at length to the Valley of the Acacia, and would have taken Bata’s wife to be the bride of Pharaoh. But Bata drew his sword and smote them all to the ground in his anger.
Yet one man lived, though sore wounded, and crept away to tell Pharaoh. Then Pharaoh sent an army: but he bade them wait by the river while guile was tried. They obeyed his order and lay hidden in their boats while one woman went up into the Valley of the Acacia and spoke with Bata’s wife. And when she told her of the power and glory that would be hers, as Pharaoh’s bride, and gave her the rich jewels and ornaments that he had sent her, Bata’s wife did not hesitate to run away secretly and sail down the Nile in the Royal Boat to become the bride of Pharaoh.
When she came to Memphis, Pharaoh loved her exceedingly and made her Princess of Egypt, the chief of his wives. But he said, ‘My messengers report that you already have a husband in the Valley of the Acacia: tell me concerning him.’
And she said, ‘All that needs to be told is that he is not as other men are. Therefore send swiftly to the Valley of the Acacia and cut down the acacia tree beside the tower, and destroy it utterly.’
Pharaoh issued the command. His servants hastened up the Nile far to the south until they came to the entrance to the Valley of the Acac
ia. They entered the Valley and cut down the tree which stood beside the tower and destroyed it with fire. And when the flower which held the Bai, the soul of Bata, was cut down it fell to the ground and Bata also sank down and died in that same moment of evil.
That very hour Anpu his brother entered his own house, washed his hands, and called for a cup of beer. A servant set it in his hands, and at once the beer grew muddy and seethed in the cup like a troubled sea.
Then Anpu cried, ‘Evil has befallen Bata my brother! Now I must hasten away to the Valley of the Acacia to restore him.’ So he bound his sandals on his feet, took his weapons and his staff and set out immediately.
In time he came to the Valley of the Acacia, entered the tower and found Bata lying there dead upon the floor. He wept and mourned for a while.
Then he went out into the Valley of the Acacia and sought for the Bai of his brother. For three years he sought in vain, and at last he said, ‘Tomorrow I will return to Egypt!’
When the sun rose he decided to spend one last day seeking for his brother’s soul. All day he searched in vain, and as the sun was sinking he returned to the tower. As he passed beneath the branches of the new acacia tree which had grown where the old one stood a seed fell at his feet. He picked up the seed and flung it into a cup of cold water. Then he sat down according to his custom.
Now that seed held the Bai of Bata, and when it had sucked up all the water, Bata’s body began to tremble all over; and presently the corpse sat up, ghastly in the moonlight, and held out its withered hand. Anpu set the cup in the corpse’s hand, and it raised it to its lips and drained it. Then the soul returned into Bata’s body, and he was a withered corpse no longer but a living man. He rose from where he lay, and the two brothers clasped each other in their arms – and the night fled away in the joy of their reunion.