Authors: Mika Waltari
“You bore me,” she said. “What is it you want?”
“To eat and drink and take pleasure with you,” I replied heavily, “for so you promised.”
“That was yesterday. Today is a new day.”
A slave girl drew off Nefer’s rumpled dress and oiled and rubbed her limbs. Nefer regarded herself in the mirror, painted her face, put on her wig, and taking up the new ornament of pearls and precious stones set in antique gold, she placed it on her forehead.
“It is beautiful,” she said, “and worth the price, though I am as weary as if I had been wrestling all night.”
“So you lied to me yesterday, and there was nothing to hinder us,” I said, though in my heart I had known it.
“I was mistaken—but my time should have come, and I fear you have got me with child, Sinuhe, for I was limp in your arms, and you were violent.” But she smiled mockingly.
“So your jewel comes from a royal tomb in Syria—wasn’t that what you told me yesterday?”
“Ah,” she said softly. “It was found beneath the pillow of a Syrian merchant—but do not let that vex you. He was a paunchy man, as fat as a pig, and he smelled of onions. I have what I sought and do not mean to see him again.”
She took off wig and ornament and dropped them carelessly on the floor beside the bed. Her bare skull was smooth and comely as she stretched herself out again and pillowed her head on her clasped hands.
“I am weary, Sinuhe, and you abuse my weariness by thus devouring me with your eyes when I have not strength to prevent you. You should remember that though I live alone I am not a woman to be despised.”
“You know very well that I have no more to give you, for you already possess all that was mine.”
I bowed my head down to the edge of the bed and caught the perfume of her ointments and of her body. She put out her hand to touch my hair, then withdrew it quickly, laughing and shaking her head.
“What deceivers men are! You lie to me, too, Sinuhe. I cannot help my fondness for you—I am weak.”
But when I would have taken her in my arms, she pushed me away and sat up, saying in a voice of bitter resentment, “Weak, lonely though I may be, I will have no dealings with cheats and swindlers. You never told me that your father Senmut has a house in the poor quarter near the harbor. The house is worth little, but the ground it stands on lies near the quays, and his furniture might fetch something at the market. I might eat and drink and take pleasure with you today if you were to give me this property of yours—for no one knows what tomorrow may bring, and I must guard my reputation.”
“My father’s property is not mine,” I said aghast. “You must not ask of me what is not mine to give, Nefernefernefer.”
She tilted her head sideways, watching me with her green eyes.
“Your father’s property is your lawful inheritance, Sinuhe, as well you know. And further, you never told me that he is blind and that he has entrusted you with the stewardship of his possessions so that you can dispose of them as if they were your own.”
This was true, for when my father’s sight had grown dim, he had given me his seal and asked me to look after his property as he could no longer see to sign his name. Kipa and he had often said that the house would fetch a good price and enable them to buy a little homestead outside the city and to live there until the time came for them to take possession of their tomb and start on the journey to immortality.
I could not speak, so overwhelmed was I with horror at the thought of deceiving the mother and father who trusted me. But Nefernefernefer half closed her eyes and murmured, “Take my head between your hands—touch my breast with your lips—for there is something about you that makes me weak, Sinuhe, so that I forget my own advantage where you are concerned. All day I will take my pleasure with you if you will make over your father’s property to me, however little it may be worth.”
I took her head between my hands, and it was smooth and small, filling me with fever unspeakable.
“So be it,” I said, and my voice grated on my own ears.
But when I would have approached her, she said, “You shall enter into the realm that is already yours-but first seek out a law scribe to prepare the appointed documents, for I do not trust men’s promises, and I must guard my reputation.”
I left her to send for a scribe, and each step away from her was torment. I urged him to hasten, and when all was done, I pressed my father’s seal on the paper and signed it with his name. But when I returned, the servants told me that Nefernefernefer was sleeping, and I had to wait until late evening for her to wake. At last she received me, took the scribe’s receipt, and slipped it carelessly into the black casket.
“You are obstinate, Sinuhe, but I am a woman of honor and always keep my promises. Take what you have come for.”
She lay upon the bed and opened her embrace, but took no pleasure in me. She turned her head aside to look at herself in the mirror, yawning behind her hands, so that the delight I sought was turned to ashes.
When I arose from her couch, she said, “You have had what you wanted, Sinuhe; now go, for you are very wearisome. Another day you may return, but you have no doubt had all you want.”
I was like the shell of a blown egg as I staggered home. I desired to be at peace in a dark room, to bury my head in my hands and give vent to my misery in weeping. But on the veranda sat a stranger wearing a braided wig and a Syrian robe of many colors. He greeted me haughtily and said he had come to consult me as a physician.
“I do not receive patients any more,” I told him, “for the house is no longer mine.”
“I have evil swellings on my feet,” he said, and he mixed Syrian words with his speech. “Your intelligent slave Kaptah recommended your skill in treating such swellings. Relieve me from my torment and you shall not regret it.”
So stubborn was he that at length I led him into my room and called to Kaptah for hot water to wash my hands. There was no reply, but not until I examined the feet of the Syrian, did I recognize Kaptah’s own gnarled and spavined joints. My slave plucked off his wig and burst into roars of laughter.
“What mummery is this?” I exclaimed, and I thrashed him till his laughter turned to howls. When I had thrown the stick aside, he said, “Since I am no longer your slave but the slave of another, I may safely tell you that I think of making my escape and therefore wished to discover whether you would know me in this dress.”
I reminded him of the punishments that threaten runaway slaves and told him that he was certain to be recaptured sooner or later, for what had he to live on? But he replied, “Last night, having drunk much beer, I had a dream. You, lord, lay in a burning furnace, but I came to you with stern words and lifting you by the scruff of the neck plunged you into flowing water that carried you away. I have since been to the market to ask an interpreter of dreams what this means. He said that my master is in danger and has a long journey before him and that I for my boldness should come by many blows. This dream is true, for one need but see your face, lord, to know that you stand in great peril. The blows I have had already—therefore the end of the dream also must be true. For this reason I have disguised myself, for I am resolved to go with you upon your journey.”
“Your loyalty moves me, Kaptah,” I said and strove to sound mocking. “It may well be that a long journey lies before me, but if so it is to the House of Death, where you will scarcely follow me.”
“Tomorrow is hidden,” was Kaptah’s pert retort. “You are young and green as an unlicked calf, and I dare not let you set forth alone upon the troubled journey to the House of Death and the Western Land. Like enough I shall come with you to help you with my experience, for my heart is bound to you despite your foolishness. Though doubtless I have begotten many children in my time, yet I have never seen any of them and so have a whim to think of you as my son. By this I mean no offense; I seek merely to express my affection for you.”
This was carrying insolence too far, but I had not heart enough to thrash him, and he was no longer my slave. I shut myself into my room and covered my head and slept like the dead until morning, for there is no narcotic like shame and remorse if they be deep enough. Yet when at last I awoke, the first things I remembered were the eyes of Nefernefernefer and her body, and I seemed to hold her smooth head in my hands and feel her bosom against mine. I washed, dressed, and anointed my face to go to her.
Nefernefernefer received me in her garden beside the lotus pool. Her eyes were clear and gay and greener than the waters of the Nile. When she saw me she cried, “O Sinuhe! So you have come back—then I am perhaps not yet so old and ugly. What do you want?”
I looked at her as a starveling looks at bread until she tilted her head in displeasure.
“Sinuhe, Sinuhe—again? I live alone, indeed, but I am no contemptible woman, and I must guard my reputation.”
“Yesterday I made over to you all my father’s property; and he is now a poor man, though formerly a respected physician. Being blind, he must beg bread in his old age while my mother must wash the linen of others.”
“Yesterday was yesterday, and today is today.” Her eyes narrowed. “But I am not extortionate. You may sit beside me and hold my hand. I am happy today and would at least share my heart’s gladness with you, if no other pleasure.”
She laughed mischievously and stroked her belly with a light hand. “You do not ask why my heart is glad today, but I will tell you. You must know that a distinguished man from the Lower Kingdom has arrived in the city, and he brings with him a golden bowl of nearly a hundred deben weight, upon which are engraved many beautiful and diverting pictures. He is old, certainly, and so thin that his old shanks will chafe me, yet I believe that in the morning that bowl will adorn my house.”
She feigned a deep sigh when I made no answer and sat with her dreamy gaze on the lotuses and the other flowers in that garden. Then slowly slipping off her robe, she stepped down into the pool. Her head rose from the water beside a lotus flower, and she was more fair than all the lotuses. Floating before me with her hands behind her head, she said, “You are silent today, Sinuhe! Surely it is not I who have unwittingly wounded you? I would gladly make amends if I could.”
I answered in spite of myself, “You know well enough what it is I want, Nefernefernefer.”
“Your face is flushed, and I can see the blood pulsing at your temples. Would it not be well to lay aside your robe and step down into the pool here with me to cool yourself this hot day? None can see us here, so do not hesitate.”
I stripped and stepped down into the pool, and my side touched hers. But when I would have held her, she evaded me, laughing and splashing water into my face.
“I understand what you want, Sinuhe, though I am too bashful to look at you. But first you must give me a present, for you know that I am not a woman to be despised.”
I shouted in my wrath, “Are you mad? You know you have robbed me of everything! I am ashamed and dare never again look my parents in the face. But I am still a physician, and my name is written in the Book of Life. Perhaps I may yet earn enough to give you a present worthy of you. Have pity on me now, for even in the water I burn as in fire and bite my hand till the blood flows when I look at you.”
She stretched herself out on the water, her breasts rising above the surface like two rosy flowers. She looked at me from under her greenpainted eyelids and said, “Can we think of nothing for you to give me? For I weaken, Sinuhe; it is troubling to me to see you naked in my pooi. You are clumsy and without experience, yet I think that one day I could teach you much that you do not yet know—tricks to sharpen a man’s pleasure and a woman’s also. Consider this, Sinuhe!”
When I snatched at her, she stepped swiftly up out of the pool and standing behind a tree shook the water from her arms.
“I am but a weak woman, and men are deceivers—you, too, Sinuhe! My heart is heavy at the thought of it and the tears very near my eyes—for it is clear that you are tired of me. Were this not so, you would never have kept from me that your parents have furnished a fine tomb for themselves in the City of the Dead and have paid to the temple the sum needful for the embalming of their bodies against death and for the things necessary to their journey to the Western Land.”
When I heard this, I tore at my breast with my hands till the blood came.
“Shall I rob my parents of immortality and let their bodies dissolve into nothingness like the bodies of beggars and slaves and those who are cast into the river for their crimes? You cannot demand such a thing of me!”
The tears were rolling down my cheeks. Though I groaned in anguish, I went up to her, and she pressed her nakedness against me, saying, “Give me your parents’ tomb and I will whisper ‘my brother’ in your ear and be to you a fire of delight and teach you a thousand things unknown to you to bring you joy!”
I had no mastery of myself but wept.
“Be it so, and may your name be accursed to all eternity—but withstand you I cannot, so powerful is the spell by which you hold me.”
“Speak not of sorcery, for that offends me. As you are tedious and out of humor, I will send a servant for the scribe while we eat and drink to gladden our hearts, that we may enjoy one another when the papers are in order.” And with a joyous laugh she ran into the house.
I dressed and followed her; servants poured water over my hands and bowed, stretching forth their hands at knee level. But behind my back they sniggered and mocked me though I pretended that their sneering was no more than the buzzing of flies in my ear. When Nefernefernefer came down, they fell silent; we ate and drank together, and there were five sorts of meat and twelve sorts of pastry, and we drank mixed wine, which goes quickly to the head. The law scribe came and wrote out the necessary papers. I made over to Nefernefernefer my parents’ tomb in the City of the Dead, with its furnishings, also their deposit in the temple, defrauding them of immortality and of their hope of journeying to the Western Land. I pressed my father’s seal upon the paper and signed it with his name, and the scribe undertook to dispatch the documents to the royal archives that same day and so make them legally valid. He handed the receipt to Nefernefernefer; she put it into the black casket and paid him for his trouble.