The Egyptian (32 page)

From childhood she had grown up beneath the shadow; her eyes were blinded, and I could not open them though I had cured the blind with needles and given them back their sight. In impotent fury I caught her in my arms and kissed her and caressed her limbs, and her limbs were as smooth as glass, and she was to me a very fountain in the desert.

She did not resist me but pressed her face against my neck and trembled, and her tears were hot on my neck as she said, “Sinuhe, my friend, if you doubt my return, I shall deny you nothing. Do with me as you will if it can give you joy, even though I must die because of it—for in your arms I do not fear death; nothing matters but that my god takes me from you.”

I asked her, “And would it give you joy?”

Her reply was hesitant.

“I do not know. I know only that my body is restless and comfortless away from you. I know only that a mist rises before my eyes, and my knees are weak when you touch me. I used to hate myself for this and feared your touch. At that time all was straightforward, nothing quenched my joy, and I gloried only in my skill and litheness and my maidenhood. Now I know that your touch is sweet to me though it might bring me pain—yet I do not know. Perhaps afterward I should be sad. But if you were happy—then your gladness is mine, and I desire no other.”

Loosening my embrace, I stroked her hair and her eyes and her throat and said, “For me it is enough that you came here tonight as you were when we walked the roads of Babylon together. Give me the golden ribbon from your hair; I ask no more of you than that.”

She looked at me doubtfully, and smoothing her hands over her loins, she said, “I am perhaps too thin, and you fancy my body would give you no pleasure. Doubtless you would prefer a gayer woman than myself. But I would be gay—I would do all you wish so as not to disappoint you, and I would give you as much pleasure as I could.”

I smiled at her, stroked her smooth shoulders, and said, “Minea, no woman is more beautiful to me than you are, and no one could give me greater joy, but I would not take you for my pleasure while you were in distress for the sake of your god. I know of something we can do that would give happiness to us both. After the custom of my country we will take a jar and break it between us. When we have done this, we are man and wife though I do not possess you and though there are no priests to witness it or write our names in the temple book. Let Kaptah bring us a jar, therefore, that we may perform this rite.”

Her eyes widened and shone in the moonlight, and she clapped hex hands and smiled joyfully. And so I went to seek Kaptah—but found him sitting on the ground outside my door, rubbing his tear-stained face with the back of his hand. When he saw me, he wept aloud.

“What is it, Kaptah?” I asked. “Why do you weep?”

He answered unabashed, “Lord, I have a tender heart, and I could not restrain my tears when I heard all that you and that slender-hipped girl were saying. Never in my life have I heard anything so moving.”

I kicked him angrily and said, “Do you mean you have been listening at the door and have heard all we said?”

Innocently he replied, “That is what I mean, for other listeners were trespassing at your door who had no business with you but who came to spy on the girl. Therefore, I drove them away with threats and sat by the door to guard your peace, thinking that you would not welcome a disturbance in the middle of an important conversation. As I sat here, I could not but hear what was said, and it was so beautiful—though childish—that I was obliged to weep.”

When he had so spoken, I could not be angry with him for his simplicity and said only, “If you have been listening, you will know what we need. Hasten to fetch me a jar.”

“What manner of jar shall it be, lord,” he said evasively. “Do you desire an earthenware jar or a stone one, painted or plain, tall or short, wide or narrow?”

I struck him with my stick, though lightly, for my heart was full of good will and told him, “You know well enough what I mean and that for my purpose any jar will do. Let us have no more dodging, but bring me quickly the first jar you can lay hands upon.”

He said, “I am already speedily on my way and spoke those words to give you time to consider what you are about. To break a jar with a woman is an important step in a man’s life, which should not be taken hastily or without due reflection. But of course I shall fetch the jar since you wish it and shall not hinder the matter.”

Kaptah brought us an old oil jar that smelt of fish, and we smashed it together, Minea and I. Kaptah was witness to the marriage, and he laid Minea’s foot upon his neck and said, “From this moment you are my mistress and will order me about as my lord does—or even more—but I hope that you will not throw scalding water over my feet when you are angry. Further, I hope that you affect soft, heelless slippers; I do not like heels on slippers for they leave bruises and bumps on my head. I mean to serve you as faithfully as I serve my master since for some strange reason my heart has become strongly attached to you, although you are thin and your breasts are small and I do not understand what my lord fancies he sees in you. Also I intend to steal as conscientiously from you as from him, regarding your advantage rather than my own.”

In saying this he became so moved that he wept again and uttered loud lamentation. Minea stroked his back and his fat cheeks and consoled him until he grew more composed, whereupon I made him sweep up the fragments of the jar and sent him from the room.

That night we lay as we had been wont to lie, Minea and I. She slept in my arms, her breath upon my neck and the caress of her hair at my cheek. But I did not possess her, for what was no joy to her was none to me. I fancy that my joy was sweeter and more profound than if she had been mine, though of this I cannot be sure, never having made the comparison. One thing I know: I felt charity toward all men, and there was not one evil thought left in my heart; every man was my brother, every woman my mother, and every girl my sister both in the Black Land and in the Red Lands under the same moonlit sky.

On the following day Minea danced once more before the bulls, and my heart quaked for her, though she came to no harm. But a young man among her companions slipped from the forehead of his beast and fell to the ground, where the bull slit open his body and trampled him beneath its hoofs so that the spectators round the arena rose up and shrieked with horror and delight. When the bull had been driven off and the dancer’s body borne out to the stables, the women ran to look at him. They touched his bleeding limbs, their breath came quickly, and they exclaimed, “What a sight to see!” But the men said, “It is long since we beheld such excellent contests as those of today.” They settled their wagers with one another without regret, weighing out gold and silver, and they drank wine together and made merry in their houses so that the lights shone brightly until very late. Wives went astray from their husbands into strange beds, but no one frowned at this for it was their custom.

I lay alone on my mat, for that night Minea could not come. Early in the morning I hired a chair in the harbor and set forth to follow her to the god’s house. She was borne thither in a golden carriage drawn by plumed horses, and her friends attended her in chairs or on foot with much noise and laughter, throwing flowers over her and halting by the wayside to drink wine.

The way was long but all were well provisioned, and they broke off branches and fanned each other and stampeded the peasants’ sheep and indulged in many other tricks. The house of the god lay in a desert place at the foot of a mountain near the seashore, and when the party drew near to this, they lowered their voices and spoke in whispers, and the laughter ceased.

This house is difficult to describe, for it was like a low hill upon which grew grass and flowers, and it ran directly into the mountain. The entrance was barred by lofty gates of copper, and before it was a small temple where dedication took place and where the watchmen were quartered. It was dusk when the procession arrived here. Minea’s friends stepped from their chairs, threw themselves down on the grass and began eating and drinking and playing tricks on one another, having forgotten their recent solemnity—for Cretans have short memories. As darkness fell they lit torches and chased each other through the thickets until the cries of women and men’s laughter rang out in the darkness, but Minea sat alone in the temple where none might approach her.

I watched her as she sat. She was arrayed in gold like a divine image, and on her head she wore a great gilded headdress; she tried to smile at me, but the smile was joyless. When the moon rose, they took from her the jewelry and gold, dressed her in a simple robe, and bound her hair in a silver net. Then the guards drew back the bars of the copper gates, which opened with a deep, rumbling noise; ten men were needed to move each gate. Beyond, all was yawning darkness. There was a profound silence. Minotauros girded himself with a golden girdle, hung a sword at his side, and put on the golden bull’s head so that he ceased to resemble a man. A kindled torch was set in Minea’s hand; Minotauros led her into the dark house, where they disappeared, and the torchlight died away. Then the thunderous copper gates were shut again and secured with the huge bars that required many strong men to draw them, and I saw Minea no more.

I was seized with such an agony of despair that my heart felt like an open wound from which my life’s blood was ebbing away. I fell on my knees and bowed my head to the earth. In that hour I knew that never again should I see Minea, although she had promised to return and live her life with me. I knew that she would not come back. Why I should have been persuaded of this just at this moment I cannot say since hitherto I had wavered, and believed, and feared, and hoped, and sought to convince myself that the god of Crete was different from all other gods and would release Minea for the sake of the love that bound her to me. Now I hoped no longer but lay with my face to the ground, while Kaptah sat beside me wagging his head in his hands and lamenting.

The flower of Cretan youth ran past me with torches in their hands; they danced intricate dances and sang songs whose words I could not understand. Once the gates of copper had been closed, they were seized with such frenzy that they leaped and danced and ran till they were weary, and their voices rang in my ears like the squawk of crows from a city wall.

After a while Kaptah ceased lamenting and said, “If my eyes do not deceive me—and I have not yet drunk enough to see double—Hornhead has come out of the mountain. I do not know how, for no one has opened the copper gates.”

He spoke truly. Minotauros had returned, and the golden bull’s head gleamed with terrifying luster in the moonlight where with the others he danced the ceremonial dance. On seeing him, I could not control myself but sprang up and sped to him, seized him by the sleeves and asked, “Where is Minea?”

He struck away my hands and wagged his mask, but when I would not give way, he removed it and said wrathfully, “It is forbidden to disturb the sacred ritual, but being a stranger, you doubtless are ignorant of this, and I will pardon you provided you do not raise your hand to me again.”

“Where is Minea?” I asked him again.

“I left Minea in the darkness of the god’s house as is ordained and returned to dance the ceremonial dance in honor of the god. What more do you want of Minea since you have been rewarded already for bringing her back?”

“How could you return when she did not?” I demanded, pressing forward to him, but he thrust me aside, and the dancers came between us. Kaptah seized my arm and dragged me away. It was well he did, or who knows what might have happened?

He said to me, “You are foolish to attract so much attention; it would be better to dance with the rest and laugh and sing as they do, or else it may go ill with you. I know now that Minotauros came out through a little door beside the copper gates. I went to look at it and saw a watchman lock it and take away the key. But now drink wine, lord, and compose yourself. Your face is distorted like that of one possessed, and you roll your eyes like an owl.”

He gave me wine to drink, and I slumbered there on the grass in the moonlight, while the glare of torches flickered before my eyes. He had deceitfully mixed poppy juice with the wine. So he was avenged for what I had done to him in Babylon to save his life, but he put me into no jar. He spread a blanket over me and prevented the dancers from trampling me underfoot. In his turn he may have saved my life, for in despair I might have run my blade into Minotauros and slain him. He sat beside me all night through until the wine jar was empty, then fell asleep and blew wine fumes into my ear.

I awoke late the next day. So powerful had been the drug that at first I wondered where I was. When I remembered, I was calm and clear headed and thanks to the dose I raved no longer. Many of those who took part in the procession had returned to the city, but some still slept among the bushes, men and women together, their bodies shamelessly uncovered, for they had drunk and danced till morning. When they awoke, they donned fresh clothes, and the women put up their hair again, discontented because they could not bathe; the streams were too cold for such as were accustomed to hot water from silver taps.

But they rinsed their mouths and rubbed ointment into their faces, painted lips and eyebrows, and said yawningly to one another, “Who stays to await Minea, and who goes back to the city?”

Most of them were now weary of the revelry and returned to the city in the course of the day. Only the youngest and most insatiable remained to divert themselves further, on the pretext of awaiting Minea’s return, the true reason being an encounter during the night with one or other in whom they had found pleasure. The wives took this opportunity of sending their husbands back to the city to be rid of them. Now I understood why there was not a single pleasure house in the city but only in the harbor. Having beheld their play during this night and the day following, I reflected that girls who made it their profession would have been hard put to rival the women of Crete.