The Egyptian

by Mika Waltari

  That day Princess Baketamon lay in the golden house, resting after her exertions. She smiled at all who addressed her and behaved in a notably agreeable manner. The court were much astonished at her demeanor, and no one dreamed as yet that she was the mysterious woman who had appeared to the people of Thebes and taken pleasure with charcoal burners and cleaners of fish.

  Princess Baketamon, having surveyed the stones of varying size and color that she had collected, summoned into her garden the builder of the royal cattlesheds and said to him, “I have gathered these stones by the riverbank, and they are sacred to me. Each one is linked with a joyous memory; the bigger the stone, the more joyous the memory. Build me a pavilion with these stones that I may have a roof over my head, for my consort neglects me, as you have doubtless heard. Let this pavilion be spacious and its walls high, and I will collect more stones as you need them.”

  The master builder was a simple man and he said humbly, “High Princess Baketamon, I fear that my arts may not suffice to build a pavilion worthy of your rank. These stones are of different sizes and colors so that the fitting of them together will be a matter of great difficulty. Lay this task rather on some temple builder or artist, for I fear that my lack of skill may spoil the beauty of your thought.”

  But Princess Baketamon touched his bony shoulder shyly and said, “I am but a poor woman whose husband is neglectful, and I cannot afford to call eminent master builders to my service. Nor can I offer you a worthy present for the work, as I should wish to do. When the pavilion is completed, I will inspect it with you, and if I find it well done, I will take pleasure with you there; this I promise! I have nothing to give you but a little joy.”

  The master builder was greatly inflamed by her words, and surveying her beauty, he remembered the tales in which princesses fell in love with humble men and took pleasure with them. His fear of

  Horemheb was great, but his desire greater, and the word? of Baketamon flattered him exceedingly. Swiftly, he began to build the pavilion, exercising all his arts in the work and dreaming as he built. He built his dreams into the walls of the pavilion. Desire and love made of him a great artist, for he saw Princess Baketamon every day. His heart glowed and he toiled like a madman, growing ever paler with labor and with longing. From the stones of different colors and sizes he built a pavilion such as had never before been seen.

  The stones Baketamon had amassed were soon exhausted, and she went once more to Thebes where she collected stones in all the markets, in the Avenue of Rams, and in the temple gardens. At last there was no part of Thebes where she had not gathered stones.

  By this time her doings were known of all, and the members of the court gathered in the garden to steal a glimpse of the pavilion. When the women of the court saw the height of the walls and the number of stones in them, great and small, they clapped their hands to their mouths and cried out in amazement. But no one dared say a word to the Princess, and Eie, who with the authority of Pharaoh might have been able to curb her, was crazily jubilant at her behavior, believing that it would cause Horemheb exceedingly great vexation.

  Horemheb waged war in Syria; he captured Sidon, Smyrna, and Byblos from the Hittites, and sent many slaves and much plunder to Egypt, and to his wife he gave many magnificent presents. Everyone in Thebes knew what was going on in the golden house, but there was no man bold enough to tell Horemheb of his consort’s behavior. His own men, to whom he had assigned high positions, shut their eyes to it, saying among themselves, “This is a family matter, and it is wiser to put one’s hand between the upper and nether millstones than to interfere between husband and wife.”

  For this reason Horemheb heard nothing of the matter, and I believe that this was best for Egypt, for the knowledge would most certainly have distracted his thoughts from the campaign.

  5

  I have spoken much of what happened to others during Eie’s reign, but little of myself. There is little to relate. The river of my life raced no longer, but ran smooth and slow again over a shallow bed. Year after year I lived under Muti’s care. My feet were weary of trudging dusty roads, my eyes were weary of beholding the restlessness of the world, and my heart was weary of the world’s vanity. I shut myself in my house and received no patients, save for a neighbor now and again and the very poor who had no presents to give the regular physicians. I had another pool dug in the courtyard and filled it with colored fish, and I sat all day beside it under my sycamore. Donkeys brayed in the street before my house, children played in the dust, and I gazed at the fish that swam lazily about in the cool water. The sooty sycamore put forth leaves again, and Muti tended me well, preparing good food for me and letting me drink wine in moderation when I so desired. She saw to it that I slept enough and did not overtax my strength.

  But food had lost its savor, and wine gave me no joy. When the chill of the evening came, the wine brought before me all my evil deeds-Pharaoh Akhnaton’s dying face and the young face of Prince Shubattu. The desire to heal men had left me, for my hands, which I had hoped might be good hands, were accursed and engendered death. So I watched the fish in my pool and envied them. Their blood was cold, and their delights were cool, and they lived out their lives without having to breathe the hot air of the earth.

  As I sat there in my garden, I spoke with my heart and said, “Be still, foolish heart; the fault is not yours. All is madness; good and evil have no meaning; greed alone, with hatred and desire, rule the world. The fault is not yours, Sinuhe, for man is man and will never change. In vain you may try him with war and want, with pestilence and burning, with gods and with spears. By such trials he is but hardened to a greater savagery than the crocodile’s, and the only good man is the man who is dead.”

  But my heart gainsaid me, “You may sit there and watch your fish, Sinuhe, but I will give you no peace. Thousands and again thousands have died because of you, Sinuhe. They have died from famine, pestilence, and wounds. They have died beneath the wheels of chariots and have perished on desert marches. Because of you children have died in their mothers’ wombs; because of you bent backs have come under the lash; because of you injustice tramples upon justice; because of you greed triumphs over good; because of you robbers rule the world. Truly, countless numbers have died because of you, Sinuhe. All who have died, and all who are yet dying are your brothers and die because of you. For this reason you hear their weeping in your dreams, Sinuhe, and their weeping takes the savor from your food and lays waste all your happiness.”

  But I hardened my spirit and said, “The fishes are my brothers because they cannot utter vain speech. The wolves of the desert are my brothers and the lions of the wilderness, but man is not my brother because he knows what he does.”

  My heart mocked me and said, “Does man then know what he does? You know; you have learning, and therefore I shall make you suffer until the day of your death, but the others do not know. You alone are guilty, Sinuhe.”

  Then I cried aloud and tore my clothes, saying, “Cursed be my knowledge, cursed be my hands, cursed be my eyes! But most cursed be my mad heart, which gives me no peace but besieges me with false accusations. Bring me the scales of Osiris, that my lying heart may be weighed!”

  Muti came hurrying from the kitchen, and wetting a cloth in the pool she bathed my head. With severe reproaches she put me to bed and gave me many bitter draughts until I grew quiet. For a long time I lay sick and raved to Muti of the scales of Osiris, of Merit, and of little Thoth. She tended me faithfully, and I fancy she was overjoyed to be able to keep me in bed and feed me. She forbade me to sit in the garden in the heat of the day, because my hair had all come out, and my bald head could not bear the poisonous rays of the sun. Yet I had not sat in the sun but in the cool shade of the sycamore, watching the fish, which were my brothers.

  After my recovery I was more peaceable and became reconciled even with my heart so that it no longer tormented me. And I spoke no more of Merit and of little Thoth but kept them in my heart, knowing that their deaths wer
e necessary if my measure were to be full and I to be alone. Had they dwelt with me, I should have been happy and at peace, and my heart would have been silent. But I must always be alone, according to the measure meted to me, in token of which I had drifted alone down the river on the very night of my birth.

  One day I dressed myself secretly in the coarse garment of the poor, kicked the sandals from my feet, and left the house. I went to the quays and bore heavy burdens among the porters until my back hurt and my shoulders were crooked. I went to the vegetable market and gathered its trampled refuse for my food. I went to the charcoal market and worked the heavy bellows for the smiths.

  I did the work of slaves and porters; I ate their bread and drank their beer and said to them, “There is no difference between one man and another, for all are born naked into the world. A man cannot be measured by the color of his skin, or by his speech, or by his clothes and jewels, but only by his heart. A good man is better than a bad man, and justice is better than injustice-and that is all I know.”

  Thus I spoke to them before their mud huts in the evenings, as their wives lit fires in the street and the air was filled with the smell of fried fish.

  They laughed at me and said, “You are mad, Sinuhe, to do the work of slaves when you can read and write. No doubt you are involved in some crime and would hide yourself among us. In your talk there is a hint of Aton, whose name we may not utter. We shall not betray you to the guards but shall keep you among us to divert us with your prattle. But do not compare us with dirty Syrians and miserable Negroes, for though we be but slaves and porters we are at least Egyptians, proud of our color and our speech, our past and our future.”

  I said to them, “That is senseless talk. So long as a man is proud of himself and believes himself better than other men, so long will mankind be persecuted by fetters and flogging, by spears and by birds of prey. A man should be judged by his heart alone.”

  But they laughed aloud and smote their knees, saying, “Truly you are a madman and must have grown up in a sack! A man cannot live unless he believes himself better than others, and there is no one so wretched but feels in some way above his neighbor. We are content to be wiser than you and craftier, although we are but poor men and slaves while you can read and write.”

  I said to them, “A good man is better than a bad one and justice better than injustice.”

  But they answered bitterly, “What is good and what is evil? If we slay a bad master who flogs us and cheats us of our food and lets our wives and children die, our deed is a good deed, but the guards bring us before Pharaoh’s judges and cut off our ears and noses and hang us head downward from the wall.”

  They gave me fish to eat, which their wives had cooked, and I drank their thin beer and said, “Murder is the lowest crime of which a man can be guilty, and it is as wicked to slay in a good cause as in a bad. No man should be slain but rather healed of his evil ways.”

  They laid their hands over their mouths, looked about them, and said, “We do not desire to slay anyone, but if you would heal men of their wickedness and set justice in the place of wrong, go first among the nobles and the wealthy, and among Pharaoh’s judges. You will find more wickedness and injustice there than among us. Do not blame us if because of your words they cut off your ears and send you to the mines or hang you head downward from the walls, for the words you utter are dangerous. Horemheb, our great commander, would without doubt have you killed were he to hear you speak thus to the people, for to slay in war is man’s glory.”

  I listened to their counsel and left them. Barefoot and clad in the gray garment of the poor I wandered about the streets of Thebes. I talked to the merchants who mixed sand with their flour, to the mill owners who gagged their slaves with sticks that they might not eat of the corn they ground, and I spoke to the judges who stole the inheritance of the fatherless and gave wrong judgment in return for gifts. I spoke to them all and accused them because of their evil-doing, and they listened to me in great astonishment.

  They said one to another, “Who is this Sinuhe who speaks thus boldly, despite his slave’s garment? Let us be careful, for he must be a spy of Pharaoh’s, or he would never venture to speak so to us.”

  They listened to what I said, and inviting me into their rooms, they offered me presents and gave me wine to drink. The judges sought my counsel and gave judgment in favor of the poor against the rich so that there was great discontent in Thebes. Men said, “In these days not even Pharaoh’s judges can be trusted. They are more dishonest than the thieves they try.”

  When I went to the nobles, they reviled me and set their dogs on me and had me driven off with whips so that my humiliation was very bitter and I ran through the streets of Thebes with a torn robe and with blood dripping from my legs.

  The merchants and judges saw my degradation and listened to my words no longer. They drove me away, saying, “Should you come to us again with false accusations, we will have you condemned as a slanderer and agitator.”

  I returned then to my house, perceiving that all my labor was in vain; my death would have done no one any service. I sat once more beneath the sycamore in my garden and watched the silent fish in the pool and so found peace, while the donkeys brayed in the street and children played at war and cast dung on one another.

  Kaptah came to visit me, for at last he had ventured to return to Thebes. He arrived with pomp in a finely decorated chair carried by eighteen black slaves. He sat there on soft cushions, and costly salves trickled from his forehead to spare him the evil smells of the poor quarter. He had gotten considerably fatter, and a Syrian goldsmith had made him a new eye of gold and precious stones, of which he was exceedingly proud although it chafed the socket so badly that he took it out as soon as he had sat down beside me under the sycamore.

  First he embraced me and wept for joy at this meeting. His weight was mountainous as he laid his broad hands on my shoulders, and the seat Muti brought out broke to pieces under him. Having turned up the skirts of his garment, he sat on the ground. He told me the war in Syria was nearing its end and that Horemheb was just then besieging Kadesh. He boasted of the great business he himself had done in Syria and told me that he had bought an old palace in the wealthy quarter and hired hundreds of laborers to rebuild it, that it might be worthy of his affluence.

  He said to me, “I have heard evil of you in Thebes, my lord Sinuhe, where it is said that you have been stirring up the people against Horemheb and that judges and other eminent men are incensed against you because you have accused them of many injustices. I counsel you to be careful. Perhaps they will not dare to condemn you, because you are in favor with Horemheb, but they may come one dark night to kill you and burn your house if you continue with your talk and stir up the poor against the rich. Tell me what is the matter with you and what has set these ants running in your brain, that I may help you as a good servant should help his master.”

  I bowed my head and told him all that I had thought and done. He listened to me and shook his head until his fat cheeks wobbled.

  When I finished, he said, “I know that you are a mad, lonely man, my lord Sinuhe, but I thought your madness might have improved with the years. It seems to have grown worse, although with your own eyes you saw what happened in the name of Aton. I believe these whims attack you because of your idleness. It would be better if you would ply your trade again, for by healing one sick man you do more good than with all your talk, which only does harm to yourself and to all whom you lead astray. If you have no wish to continue in your profession, you can always pass your time in some useful occupation, like other wealthy men. You could collect jewelry and other objects fashioned during the period of the pyramids. In truth, Sinuhe, there are many ways of passing the time and so keeping these vain fancies from your mind. Women and wine are in no way the worst means to this end. For Ammon’s sake dice; waste your gold on women; drink yourself insensible; do anything! But do not hurl yourself to destruction with vain talk-for I love you dearly, m
y lord Sinuhe, and I desire no harm to come to you.”

  He said also, “Nothing in the world is perfect. The crust of every loaf is burned, every fruit has its worm, and when a man has drunk wine, he must suffer next morning. For this reason there is no perfect justice; even good deeds have evil consequences, and the best motives may lead to death and defeat, as Akhnaton’s example should have taught you. Look at me, my lord Sinuhe! I am content with my mean lot and grow fat in harmony with gods and men. Pharaoh’s judges bow before me and the people praise my name, while the very dogs defile your garments. Take life quietly; it is not your fault that the world is as it is-that has ever been so and ever will!”

  I contemplated his corpulence and his wealth and greatly envied him his peace of mind, but I said to him, “Be it as you say, Kaptah. I will ply my trade once more. Tell me, is the name of Aton still remembered and still cursed? For you spoke his name although it is forbidden.”

  Kaptah said, “Truly, Aton’s name was as quickly forgotten as the pillars of Akhnaton were effaced. Yet I have seen artists draw in the manner of Aton, and there are storytellers who tell dangerous tales; one may see now and again the cross of Aton drawn in the sand and upon the walls of latrines, so it may be that Aton is not yet quite dead.”

  “Be it as you say. I will ply my trade, and as a recreation I will also start some collection as you have counseled me. As I have no desire to mimic others, I will collect all those who yet remember Aton.”

  But Kaptah fancied that I spoke in jest, for he knew as well as I how much evil Aton had brought on Egypt and on myself. After this we talked agreeably of many things. Muti brought wine, and we drank together until slaves came and helped him to rise. Because of his great weight, he found difficulty in getting to his feet. He left me, but on the following day he sent me munificent presents, which secured for me such comfort and plenty that nothing would have been wanting to my happiness, if I could have been happy.