The Egyptian

6

The Crocodile’s Tail lay in the middle of the harbor quarter, crowded in among big warehouses in a dim alley. Its mud-brick walls were immensely thick so that in summer it was cool and in winter conserved its warmth. Above the door, besides a beer jar and a wine jar, there hung a huge dried crocodile with shiny glass eyes, its gaping jaws full of many rows of teeth. Kaptah drew me inside eagerly, called the landlord, and made his way to some cushioned seats. He was well known in the place and quite at home; the other customers, having glanced suspiciously at me, resumed their conversations. I saw to my astonishment that the floor was of wood and that the walls also were paneled. On these walls hung trophies from many long voyages: Negro spears and plumes, mussels from the islands in the sea, and painted Cretan bowls.

Kaptah followed my gaze with pride and said, “You will certainly be marveling that the walls are of wood as in rich men’s houses. Know that all the planks are from old ships which have been broken up, and although I do not willingly think of sea voyages, I must mention that this yellow, sea-worn plank has sailed to the land of Punt and this brown one has scraped along the quays of the islands in the sea. But if you approve, let us enjoy a ‘tail,’ which the landlord himself has mixed for us.”

A beautiful goblet was placed in my hand, molded in the form of a mussel shell, of the kind that must be held on the palm of the hand. I did not look at it, having eyes only for the woman who brought it to me. She was perhaps no longer as young as most serving girls, nor did she walk about half naked to catch the eye and the senses of the customers. She was decently dressed, with a silver ring in one ear and silver bangles about her slender wrists. She met my gaze fearlessly and did not drop her eyes as is the way of most women. Her eyebrows were plucked fine, and in her eyes could be seen both a smile and a sorrow. They were warm, brown, living eyes, and it did one’s heart good to look into them. I took the cup she offered on the flat of my hand, and Kaptah did the same.

Still looking into her eyes I said in spite of myself, “What is your name, loveliness?”

Her voice was low as she answered, “My name is Merit, and it is not seemly to call me loveliness as shy boys do when they first seek to caress the loins of a serving girl. I hope that you will remember this if ever you honor our house again, Sinuhe the physician, You Who Are Alone.”

Mortified I answered, “I have not the least desire to caress your loins, fair Merit. But how did you know my name?”

She smiled, and the smile was beautiful on her brown face as she said mockingly, “Your fame has gone before you, Son of the Wild Ass, and seeing you I know that fame has not lied but spoken truly in every particular.”

In the depths of her eyes there lay, like a mirage, some remote grief; it sought my heart through her smile and I could not be angry with her.

“If by fame you mean Kaptah here-this former slave of mine whom today I have made a free man-you know very well that his word is not to be trusted. From birth his tongue has been incapable of distinguishing truth from falsehood but loves both equally well-unless indeed it has a bias toward falsehood. I have been unable to cure this either by doctoring or beating.”

She said, “Falsehood may be sweeter than truth when one is much alone and past the spring of life. I like to believe your words when you say ‘fair Merit,’ and I believe all that your face tells me. But will you not taste of the crocodile’s tail I have brought you? I am curious to know whether it may be compared with any of the drinks in the strange lands you have visited.”

Still with my eyes on her I raised the bowl and drank. Then I looked at her no longer. The blood rose to my head, I began to choke, and my throat seemed on fire.

When at last I found my breath again I gasped, “I will take back what I said of Kaptah, for in this matter at least he did not lie. Your drink is stronger than any I have tasted and more fiery than the earth oil the Babylonians burn in their lamps. I do not doubt that it would fell even a strong man like a blow from a crocodile’s tail.”

My body was afire, and in my mouth lingered the tang of spices. My heart took wings like a swallow and I said, “By Set and all the devils, I cannot think how this drink has been mixed, nor do I know whether it has bewitched me, Merit, or your eyes. Magic flows in my limbs and my heart is young once more-do not be surprised if I put my hand on your loins, for it is this bowl that will be to blame and not