The Egyptian

7

Thus began my life in the poor quarter of Thebes. As Kaptah had foretold, I had many patients, and lost more money than I earned. I required many costly medicines, and it was not worth my while to heal the starving if they could not buy enough meal and fat to regain their strength. The gifts I received were of small value though they gave me joy, and even greater joy was it to learn that the poor had begun to bless my name. Every evening the sky over Thebes glowed red with the lights of the inner city. I was weary after my day’s work, and even at night my thoughts were with the sufferings of my patients. I thought also of Aton, Pharaoh’s god.

Kaptah engaged an old woman to keep house for us, a woman who did not disturb me and who was weary of life and of men as her face showed. She cooked well and was quiet and never stood in the porch to insult the poor because of their smell or to drive them away from me with harsh words. I soon grew accustomed to her, and she was never in my way. She was a shadow, and I ceased to notice her. Her name was Muti.

So month followed month. The unrest in Thebes increased, and nothing was heard of Horemheb’s return. The sun scorched the gardens yellow and the hottest part of the summer was at hand. At times I craved a change and went with Kaptah to the Crocodile’s Tail to joke with Merit and look into her eyes, though she remained remote from me and made my heart sore. I listened to the talk of the other customers and soon observed that it was not everyone who was given a seat and a goblet in this house. The customers were picked and chosen, and although some of them might live by grave robbing or blackmail, they forgot their trade when at the tavern and comported themselves in a decent manner. I believed Kaptah when he told me that in this house only such people met as had a use for one another. No one had a use for me, and here also I was a stranger, although I was tolerated and men were not shy of me, because I was Kaptah’s friend.

I heard a great deal here; I heard Pharaoh cursed as well as praised, but his new god was for the most part mocked. But one evening an incense dealer came to the tavern with torn garments and ashes in his hair.

He came to soothe his sorrows with a crocodile’s tail and shouted, “May this false Pharaoh be cursed to all eternity-this bastard, this usurper, who acts according to his own whims, to the detriment of my sacred calling. Hitherto. I have made my best profits on materials I obtain from the land of Punt, and the voyages on the Eastern Sea are not at all hazardous. Every summer ships have been fitted out for the trade routes, and during the following year at least two out of every ten ships have returned with no more than a water measure’s delay. Thus I have always been able to make accurate assessment of my holdings and profits. But now! Was there ever greater madness? At the last refit Pharaoh himself came down to the harbor to inspect the fleet. He saw the seamen lamenting aboard the ships and their wives and children weeping on the shore, slashing their faces with sharp stones as is only seemly on such an occasion, for it is well known how many sail and how few return. It has been so ever since the days of the great queen. Nevertheless, believe it or not, this cranky boy, this damned Pharaoh forbade the vessels to sail and has decreed that no more ships are to be fitted out for Punt. Ammon save us! Every honest merchant knows what that means. It means ruin for countless men, poverty and starvation for the wives and children of seamen. Consider the fortunes invested in ships and warehouses, in glass beads and earthenware jars! Think of the Egyptian agents who must now languish forever in the straw huts of the land of Punt, abandoned by the gods!”

Not until the incense dealer had been given the third crocodile’s tail on the flat of his hand did he grow quieter. Then he made haste to beg forgiveness if in his grief and indignation he had uttered disparagement of Pharaoh.-

“Yet,” he went on, “I believe Queen Taia, who is a wise and discerning woman, should govern her son better. I believed Eie the priest also to be a sensible man, but they all seek to overthrow Ammon and allow Pharaoh to give free rein to his madness. Poor Ammon! A man commonly comes to his senses once he has broken a jar with a woman and married, but this Nefertiti, this royal consort, thinks only of her clothes and of her indecent fashions. Believe it or not, the women of the court now paint themselves green round the eyes with malachite and go with their robes open from the navel downward in the sight of men.”

Kaptah was curious and said, “I have never seen such fashions in any other land, though I have encountered many curiosities, especially in the matter of women’s dress. Do you mean to tell me that women now walk abroad with their private parts uncovered, the Queen also?”

The incense dealer was offended and replied, “I am a man of decorum, with a wife and children. I did not lower my eyes below the navel, nor would I counsel you to do anything so unbecoming.”

Merit now interposed wrathfully, “It is your own mouth that is shameless and not these new summer fashions, which are wonderfully cool and do full justice to a woman’s beauty, provided she has a fair and well-formed belly and a navel that has not been disfigured by an unskilled midwife. You might safely have allowed your eyes to travel lower, for beneath the open robe there is a narrow loincloth of finest linen that cannot offend the eye of decorum.”

The incense dealer would have liked to reply to this, but the third crocodile’s tail was stronger than his tongue. Therefore he laid his head in his hands and wept bitterly over the dress of the court women and over the fate of the Egyptians abandoned in the land of Punt.

When Kaptah and I were leaving, I said to Merit at the door, “You know that I am alone, and your eyes have told me that you also are alone. I have pondered over the words you once said to me and believe that at times a lie can be sweeter than truth for a solitary person whose first springtime is past. I should like you to wear such a new summer dress as you were speaking of, for you are shapely and your legs are long, and I do not think you will need to be ashamed of your belly when I walk with you along the Avenue of Rams.”

This time she did not put aside my hand but pressed it gently and said, “Perhaps I will do as you suggest.”

Yet her promise gave me no pleasure when I stepped out into the hot evening air; rather I was filled with melancholy. From far out upon the river came the lonely notes of a double-reed pipe.

On the following day Horemheb returned to Thebes and with him an armed force. But to tell of this and of all else that happened, I must begin on a new book. Yet I should first mention that in the course of my practice I twice had occasion to open skulls; one patient was a powerful man and the other a poor woman who believed herself to be the great Queen Hatshepsut. Both recovered and were cured, though I believe the old woman was happier in thinking herself queen than when her reason was restored.