The Egyptian

7

In justice I must speak also of Horemheb’s virtues, for the people praised his name and held him to be a good ruler. After only a few years of reign he was numbered among the great Pharaohs of Egypt. He milked the rich and eminent, that none might compete with him for power, and this greatly pleased the people. He punished unjust judges and gave the poor their rights; he revised the taxes and paid the tax gatherers regularly from the royal treasury so that they could no longer enrich themselves by extortion from the people.

He traveled incessantly from province to province, from village to village, seeking out abuses. His journeys could be traced by the cropped ears and bleeding noses of corrupt tax gatherers. The cracking of whips and cries of lamentation were heard far and wide from the places where he set up his courts. Even the poorest could approach him, and he dealt out incorruptible justice. He sent ships again to

Punt. Once more the wives and children of seamen wept on the quays and gashed their faces with stones as custom required, and Egypt prospered exceedingly. Of every ten ships that sailed, three returned every year laden with treasure. He built new temples also and rendered the gods their due, favoring no one god save Horus and no one temple save that in Hetnetsut, where his own image was worshiped as a god, to whom the people made sacrifice of oxen. For all these things the people praised his name and told fabulous tales of him.

Kaptah also prospered mightily until no other man in Egypt could vie with him in wealth. Having neither wife nor children, he had named Horemheb his heir, that he might live in peace for the remainder of his life and gather ever greater riches. For this reason Horemheb extorted less from him than from other wealthy men.

Kaptah invited me often to his house, which with its gardens formed a whole district in itself so that he had no neighbors to disturb his peace. He ate from golden dishes, and in his rooms water ran from silver taps in the Cretan manner. His bath was of silver and the seat of his privy was of ebony, and the walls of this were inlaid with rare stones fitted together to form diverting pictures. He offered me strange foods, and wine from the pyramids. During his meals he was entertained by singers and players, while the fairest and most highly skilled dancing girls in Thebes performed marvels in their art for his enjoyment.

He said to me, “My lord Sinuhe, when a man attains a certain wealth, he cannot become poor but grows even richer without lifting a finger to help himself, so strangely is the world ordered. My wealth originated with you, Sinuhe, so I shall ever acknowledge you as my lord, and you shall lack nothing all the days of your life. For your own sake it is well that you are not rich, for you would never use your means to the best advantage but would sow unrest and bring about great calamities.”

He also favored artists; sculptors hewed his image in stone, giving him a noble and distinguished appearance. They made his limbs slender, his hands and feet small, and his cheekbones high. In these sculptures both his eyes had their sight, and he sat plunged in thought with a scroll on his knee and a pen in his hand although he had never even tried to learn to read and write. His scribes alone read and wrote and totted up huge sums on his behalf. These statues greatly amused Kaptah, and the priests of Ammon-to whom he had given vast presents that he might live in amity with the gods-set up his image in the great temple, and he bore the cost of this himself.

I was glad for Kaptah’s sake that he was rich and happy. Indeed, I was glad of everyone’s contentment and no longer sought to deprive men of their illusions if they were made happy thereby. Truth is often bitter, and it may sometimes be kinder to kill a man than to take his dreams from him.

But no dreams cooled my own forehead, and my work brought me no peace although at this time I tended many sick people. Of the patients whose skulls I opened only three died so that my reputation as a skull surgeon stood high. But I lived in continual discontent and found fault with everyone. I nagged at Kaptah for his gluttony, at the poor for their sloth, at the rich for their selfishness, and at the judges for their indifference, and I was satisfied with none. Sick people and children I never chided but healed my patients without giving them needless pain and let Muti share out her honey cakes among the small boys in the street whose eyes reminded me of Thoth’s.

Men said of me, “This Sinuhe is a wearisome, bitter man. His liver is swollen, and gall bubbles out of him in his speech so that he can find no delight in life. His evil deeds pursue him so that at night he finds no rest. Let us pay no heed to what he says, for his tongue stings himself more viciously than it stings others.”

If was true. Whenever I had poured forth my bitterness, I suffered for it and wept.

I spoke malignantly of Horemheb also, and all his deeds were evil in my eyes. Most of all I spoke ill of his “scum,” whom he maintained out of Pharaoh’s stores and who led an idle life in taverns and pleasure houses, boasting of their prowess and violating the daughters of the poor so that no woman could walk safely in the streets of Thebes. Horemheb forgave his ruffians all they did. When the poor turned to him with complaints about their daughters’ plight, he told them that they should be proud because his men were begetting so sturdy a race.

Horemheb was growing ever more suspicious by nature, and there came a day when his guards visited my house, drove away the sick from my courtyard, and brought me into his presence. Spring had come again, the river had fallen, and swallows were darting above the sluggish, muddy waters. Horemheb had aged. His head was bowed, and the muscles stood out like cords on his long, thin body.

He looked me in the eye and said, “Sinuhe, I have warned you many times but you do not heed my warnings. You continue to tell the people that the warrior’s profession is the most degraded and contemptible of all. You say that it would be better for children to die in their mothers’ wombs than to be born warriors. You say that two or three children are enough for any woman and that it is better for her to be happy with three children than unhappy and poor with nine or ten. You have said also that the god of the false Pharaoh was greater than all other gods. You have said that no man should buy or sell another as a slave and that the people who plow and sow ought to possess the land they cultivate, though it be Pharaoh’s or a god’s. You have declared that my rule differs little from that of the Hittites. And you have said much that was even more outrageous. Any other man would have been sent to the quarries long ago. I have been patient with you, Sinuhe, because you were once my friend. As long as Eie the priest was alive, I had need of you because you were my only witness against him. Now I need you no longer; you may rather harm me through your knowledge. Had you been wise, you would have held your tongue, lived a quiet life, and been content with your lot-for truly you have lacked nothing. Instead, you bespatter me with slander, and that I will no longer endure.”

His wrath increased as he spoke; he slashed his thin legs with his whip, scowled, and went on, “You have been a sand flea between my toes and a horse fly on my shoulder. I allow no barren trees that bear only poisonous thorns in my garden. I must banish you from Egypt, Sinuhe, and never again shall you see the land of Kem. If I allowed you to remain, the day would come when I should have to put you to death, and that I do not wish to do because you were once my friend. Your extravagant words might be the spark to kindle the dry reeds. When once dry reeds have caught, they blaze away to ashes. I will not allow the land of Kem to be gutted again-no, neither for gods nor for men. I banish you, Sinuhe, for you can be no true Egyptian, but some strange abortion of mixed blood. Sick notions throng your head.”

It may be that he was right and that my heart’s torment arose from the mixture in my veins of Pharaoh’s sacred blood and the pale, dying blood of Mitanni. Yet I could not but smile at his words, though I was half stunned by them, for Thebes was my city. I was born and brought up there and desired to live in no other place.

My laughter enraged Horemheb. He had expected me to fall prostrate before him and implore his mercy. He cracked Pharaoh’s whip and shouted, “Be it so! I banish you from Egypt forever. When you die, your body shall not be brought home for burial, though I may permit it to be preserved according to custom. It shall be buried by the shore of the Eastern Sea, from which ships put forth for the land of Punt, for that is to be your place of exile. I cannot send you to Syria, for Syria’s embers are yet glowing and need no bellows. Nor can I send you to the land of Kush since you affirm that the color of a man’s skin has no significance and that Egyptians and Negroes are of equal worth. You might instill foolish ideas into the black men’s heads.

“But the land by the seashore is deserted. You are welcome to make your speeches to the black wind of the desert, and from those hills you may preach at your pleasure to jackals and crows and serpents. Guards shall measure out your domain, and if you stray outside these bounds, they shall slay you with their spears. Save for this you shall lack nothing. Your couch shall be soft and your food abundant, and any reasonable request shall be complied with. Truly loneliness is punishment enough, and because you were once my friend, I have no desire to oppress you further.”

I did not dread the loneliness since all my life I had been alone and was born to be so. My heart melted in sadness to think that never more should I behold Thebes or feel the soft soil of the Black Land beneath my feet or drink the water of the Nile.

I said to Horemheb, “I have few friends, for men shun me because of my bitterness and my sharp tongue, but you will surely allow me to take leave of them. I would gladly take my leave of Thebes also and walk once more along the Avenue of Rams, to breathe the perfume of sacrificial smoke among the bright pillars of the great temple and to smell the fried fish at nightfall- in the poor quarter of the city.”

Horemheb would assuredly have granted my request if I had wept and prostrated myself at his feet, for he was a very vain man. But weakling though I was, I would not humble myself before him, for learning should not bow to power. I put my hand before my mouth and hid my fear in yawns, for I had ever been overcome by drowsiness when most afraid. In this I believe I differ from other men.

Then Horemheb said, “I shall permit no needless farewells since I am a warrior and dislike weakness. I will make your journey easy and send you immediately on your way without arousing public excitement or demonstrations. You are known in Thebes-better known than perhaps you are aware. You shall leave in a closed chair, but if anyone desires to accompany you to your place of banishment, I will permit it. Nevertheless, he must stay there all his days, even should you die first. He too must die there. Dangerous thoughts are a pestilence readily transmitted from one to another, and I do not desire your sickness to return to Egypt with any other man. If by your friends you mean a certain mill slave whose fingers have grown together and a drunken artist who portrays a god squatting by the roadside, and a couple of Negroes who have frequented your house-then you need not seek to take farewell of them; they have gone on a long journey and will never return.”

In that hour I hated Horemheb, but I hated myself more. Once again my hands had sown death, and my friends had suffered through me. I said nothing but stretched forth my hands at knee level and left him, and the guards took me away. Twice he opened his mouth to speak to me before I went, and he took a step forward. Then he stopped and said, “Pharaoh has spoken.”

The guards shut me into a chair and carried me away from Thebes, past the three hills and eastward into the desert along a stone-paved road that had been built at Horemheb’s command. We journeyed for twenty days until we came to the harbor where ships took aboard cargoes for the land of Punt. There were people living here, and so the guards carried me a three days’ journey from there, along the coast to a deserted village where fishermen had once dwelt. Here they measured out an area for my walking and built me a house in which I have lived all these years. I have lacked nothing. I have lived the life of a rich man. Here are writing materials and paper of the finest, caskets of black wood in which I keep the books I have written, and all the requirements of a physician. But the book I now write is the last, and I have no more to say for I am old and tired, and my eyes are so dim that I can scarcely distinguish the characters on the papyrus.

I do not think I could have survived had I not recorded-and thus relived-my life. I have written to make clear to myself the reason for my existence; yet now that I bring my last book to an end I am more ignorant of it than when I began to write. Nevertheless, writing during these years has greatly comforted me. Every day the sea has been before my eyes. I have seen it red; I have seen it black. I have seen it green in the daytime and in the darkness white. On days of searing heat I have seen it bluer than blue stones. It is enough, for the sea is vast and terrible for a man to have before his eyes forever.

I have also beheld the red hills about me. I have examined sand fleas; scorpions and serpents have been my confidants, and they no longer shun me but listen when I speak. Yet I believe they are bad friends to man, and I have had as great a surfeit of them as of the endless, rolling billows of the sea.

I should mention that in the course of my first year in this village of whitened bones and tumbledown huts, when ships were sailing once more to Punt, Muti came to me from Thebes with one of Pharaoh’s caravans. She greeted me and wept bitterly at the sight of my wretchedness, for my cheeks had fallen in, my belly had shrunk, and my mind was steeped in indifference.

She soon recovered and began to scold me, saying, “Have I not warned you a thousand times, Sinuhe, not to run your head into snares in your foolish man’s way? Men are deafer than stones-they are little brats of boys who must always be cracking their heads against the wall. Truly you have run your head against the wall often enough, my lord Sinuhe, and it is time you settled down and led the life of a wise man.”

But I rebuked her, saying that she ought never to have left Thebes, for she had now no hope of return. By her coming she had bound her life to the life of a banished man.

In reply she railed at great length. “On the contrary: What has happened to you is the best thing that has ever happened, and I believe that Horemheb has shown himself your true friend in bringing you to so peaceful a place in your old age. I too have had enough of the bustle of Thebes, and of those whining neighbors, who borrow cooking pots without returning them and empty their garbage into my court. When I come to think of it, the copperfounder’s house was never the same after the fire. The roasting pit burned the meat, and the oil turned rancid in the jars. There were drafts along the floors and the shutters rattled unceasingly. Now we may make a fresh start and build everything to our liking. I have already chosen an excellent place for the garden. I shall cultivate herbs and watercress, which you greatly enjoy, my lord. I shall give work enough to these lazy drones whom Pharaoh has set to protect you from robbers and evil-doers. They shall hunt fresh game for you every day-they shall catch fish and gather mussels and crabs on the shore, although I suspect that sea fish are not so good as those we had from the river. Moreover, I think of selecting a suitable burial place, if you will permit me, my lord. Having come so far, I never mean to leave here again. I have had enough of wandering from place to place in search of you, and journeys frighten me since never until now have I set foot outside Thebes.”

Thus did Muti comfort me and cheer me with her grumbling. I believe that it was thanks to her that I stretched forth my hand to life again and began to write. She goaded me to it although she could not read and secretly regarded my writing as nonsense. Yet she was glad for me to have some occupation, and she saw to it that I rested between times and enjoyed all the good dishes she prepared for me. She fulfilled her promise and set Pharaoh’s guards to work, making their lives a burden to them so that they cursed her with great feeling behind her back and called her a witch and a crocodile. But they dared not oppose her, for then she reviled them volubly, and her tongue was sharper than an ox goad.

I fancy that Muti’s influence was most wholesome. She kept the men in continual activity so that their time passed quickly. She rewarded them by baking good bread for them and brewing strong beer in great jars. They had fresh greenstuff from her herb garden, and she taught them how to vary their diet. Every year when the ships sailed to Punt, Kaptah sent us many donkey loads of goods from Thebes. He commissioned his scribes to write to us of all that went on in the city so that I did not live altogether in a sack. All this was of benefit to my guards. They learned new skill from Muti and grew rich from the presents I made them so that they did not long too sorely for Thebes.

Now I am weary with writing, and my eyes ache. Muti’s cats jump on my knee and rub their heads against my hand. My heart is weary of all I have written, and my limbs long for their eternal rest. Though I may not be happy, yet am I not unhappy in my loneliness.

I bless my paper and my pen, for thanks to them I could become a little boy again in the house of my father Senmut. I have walked the roads of Babylon with Minea, and Merit’s lovely arms have been about my neck. I have wept with those who mourned and shared out my grain among the poor. But I will not remember my evil deeds or the bitterness of my loss.

All this have I, Sinuhe the Egyptian, written, and for my own sake. Neither for gods nor for men, nor to immortalize my name, but only to bring peace to my own poor heart, whose measure is now full. I know that the guards will destroy all that I have written as soon as I am dead, and by the command of Horemheb they will pull down the walls of my house. Yet I do not know whether I greatly care.

Nevertheless, I am carefully preserving these books I have written, and Muti has plaited a strong cover of palm fiber for each of them. I keep these covered books in a silver box, and the silver box lies within a casket of hard wood, and that again within a copper one, just as the divine books of Thoth were once enclosed, to be sunk to the bed of the river. Whether my books will thus escape the guards, and whether Muti will hide them in my grave, I do not know, nor am I much concerned.

For I, Sinuhe, am a human being. I have lived in everyone who existed before me and shall live in all who come after me. I shall live in human tears and laughter, in human sorrow and fear, in human goodness and wickedness, in justice and injustice, in weakness and strength. As a human being I shall live eternally in mankind. I desire no offerings at my tomb and no immortality for my name. This was written by Sinuhe, the Egyptian, who lived alone all the days of his life.