Before the Throne

4

HORUS PROCLAIMED, “The Sage Ptahhotep!”

A short, reed-thin man entered, whose bare head and feet detracted not at all from his subtle dignity. He tread cautiously forward until he stood politely before the court.

Thoth, Recorder for the Gods, began to recite, “The Sage Ptahhotep. He lived one hundred and ten years, and served as vizier to King Izezi, one of the rulers of the Fifth Dynasty. He is the author of highly valued admonitions that achieved great acclaim.”

When Osiris called upon him to speak, the wise man said, “I studied science in the temple of Ptah. My erudition was obvious, even as a child. After a long period in the priesthood, the king chose me as his minister. The days of greatness and glory had gone, as though they had never been. Those who sat on the throne were kings without power, and without wisdom as well. While they busied themselves with planning, building, and seeking to achieve their whimsical goals, the influence of the priests and the ambitions of the provincial governors for authority and to attain their own ends grew ever stronger. Corruption spread among those who held office, as the peasants were burdened with oppression and degradation. Meanwhile, the groans of complaint arose until they clogged the heavens like a fog. Over and over again, I contemplated the prevailing conditions, unable to accept them, dismayed by the darkened relations between humanity and the gods. Yet I did not stint in offering advice — which was lost in the folds of indolence and greed. And when I reached my one-hundred-and-tenth year, the king summoned me and ordered me to compose a book of my choicest words of wisdom — and this I did.”

“Let us hear one of your sayings,” Osiris commanded.

“ ‘If an important man invites you to supper, accept only what is offered to you, and do not speak unless you are asked to,’ ” said Ptahhotep.

“What provoked your interest in manners at table?”

“While apparently focusing on etiquette at meals, I was really critiquing the covetousness of the priests, who were demanding larger and larger endowments while gorging themselves on food and drink!”

“Tell us another,” said Osiris.

“ ‘Do not betray one who trusts you to bolster your glory, or to build your house,’ ” said Ptahhotep. “Here I was speaking of the provincial governors, who were constantly expanding their own influence — thus threatening the nation’s unity.”

“Had they forgotten,” King Menes asked, “the blood that was shed for the sake of unifying the country?”

“And how could they spurn the traditions and the morals that were held sacred in my era?” seconded Khufu.

Osiris motioned to Ptahhotep to resume his recitation. “And you also said,” he reminded the sage, “ ‘When you enter another’s house, be careful not to approach the women, for how many have met their doom that way!’ Did you base that on what was said had happened in Khufu’s harem?”

“To similar purpose,” replied Ptahhotep, “I also said, ‘If you are wise, you will put your house in order and love your wife, who is your partner in life. Feed her and clothe her; give her fragrances and bestow pleasure upon her. Do not be harsh with her, for by tenderness you will possess her heart. If her requests are granted, she will be your happiness and well-being.’ ”

“Give us a proverb addressed to all,” commanded Osiris.

“Fail not to adorn yourself with the ornament of learning and the finery of fair behavior.”

“There were no sages in my time,” said King Menes. “But men freed their land from the invaders and unified their kingdom. And yet, here was an age of dissolution and corruption that produced nothing of value but some pretty words. Of what use, then, is wisdom?”

“Wisdom will endure like a pyramid — or even longer,” Khufu declared.

Isis pleaded, “Do not belittle my insightful son. We are in need of the wise man in times of decline, just as we need a doctor during a plague. The sweet scent of the sound word shall linger forever.”

Finally, Osiris told him, “Proceed, O Sage, to your place among the Immortals.”