The Egyptian (76 page)

But they laughed aloud and smote their knees, saying, “Truly you are a madman and must have grown up in a sack! A man cannot live unless he believes himself better than others, and there is no one so wretched but feels in some way above his neighbor. We are content to be wiser than you and craftier, although we are but poor men and slaves while you can read and write.”

I said to them, “A good man is better than a bad one and justice better than injustice.”

But they answered bitterly, “What is good and what is evil? If we slay a bad master who flogs us and cheats us of our food and lets our wives and children die, our deed is a good deed, but the guards bring us before Pharaoh’s judges and cut off our ears and noses and hang us head downward from the wall.”

They gave me fish to eat, which their wives had cooked, and I drank their thin beer and said, “Murder is the lowest crime of which a man can be guilty, and it is as wicked to slay in a good cause as in a bad. No man should be slain but rather healed of his evil ways.”

They laid their hands over their mouths, looked about them, and said, “We do not desire to slay anyone, but if you would heal men of their wickedness and set justice in the place of wrong, go first among the nobles and the wealthy, and among Pharaoh’s judges. You will find more wickedness and injustice there than among us. Do not blame us if because of your words they cut off your ears and send you to the mines or hang you head downward from the walls, for the words you utter are dangerous. Horemheb, our great commander, would without doubt have you killed were he to hear you speak thus to the people, for to slay in war is man’s glory.”

I listened to their counsel and left them. Barefoot and clad in the gray garment of the poor I wandered about the streets of Thebes. I talked to the merchants who mixed sand with their flour, to the mill owners who gagged their slaves with sticks that they might not eat of the corn they ground, and I spoke to the judges who stole the inheritance of the fatherless and gave wrong judgment in return for gifts. I spoke to them all and accused them because of their evildoing, and they listened to me in great astonishment.

They said one to another, “Who is this Sinuhe who speaks thus boldly, despite his slave’s garment? Let us be careful, for he must be a spy of Pharaoh’s, or he would never venture to speak so to us.”

They listened to what I said, and inviting me into their rooms, they offered me presents and gave me wine to drink. The judges sought my counsel and gave judgment in favor of the poor against the rich so that there was great discontent in Thebes. Men said, “In these days not even Pharaoh’s judges can be trusted. They are more dishonest than the thieves they try.”

When I went to the nobles, they reviled me and set their dogs on me and had me driven off with whips so that my humiliation was very bitter and I ran through the streets of Thebes with a torn robe and with blood dripping from my legs.

The merchants and judges saw my degradation and listened to my words no longer. They drove me away, saying, “Should you come to us again with false accusations, we will have you condemned as a slanderer and agitator.”

I returned then to my house, perceiving that all my labor was in vain; my death would have done no one any service. I sat once more beneath the sycamore in my garden and watched the silent fish in the pool and so found peace, while the donkeys brayed in the street and children played at war and cast dung on one another.

Kaptah came to visit me, for at last he had ventured to return to Thebes. He arrived with pomp in a finely decorated chair carried by eighteen black slaves. He sat there on soft cushions, and costly salves trickled from his forehead to spare him the evil smells of the poor quarter. He had gotten considerably fatter, and a Syrian goldsmith had made him a new eye of gold and precious stones, of which he was exceedingly proud although it chafed the socket so badly that he took it out as soon as he had sat down beside me under the sycamore.

First he embraced me and wept for joy at this meeting. His weight was mountainous as he laid his broad hands on my shoulders, and the seat Muti brought out broke to pieces under him. Having turned up the skirts of his garment, he sat on the ground. He told me the war in Syria was nearing its end and that Horemheb was just then besieging Kadesh. He boasted of the great business he himself had done in Syria and told me that he had bought an old palace in the wealthy quarter and hired hundreds of laborers to rebuild it, that it might be worthy of his affluence.

He said to me, “I have heard evil of you in Thebes, my lord Sinuhe, where it is said that you have been stirring up the people against Horemheb and that judges and other eminent men are incensed against you because you have accused them of many injustices. I counsel you to be careful. Perhaps they will not dare to condemn you, because you are in favor with Horemheb, but they may come one dark night to kill you and burn your house if you continue with your talk and stir up the poor against the rich. Tell me what is the matter with you and what has set these ants running in your brain, that I may help you as a good servant should help his master.”

I bowed my head and told him all that I had thought and done. He listened to me and shook his head until his fat cheeks wobbled.

When I finished, he said, “I know that you are a mad, lonely man, my lord Sinuhe, but I thought your madness might have improved with the years. It seems to have grown worse, although with your own eyes you saw what happened in the name of Aton. I believe these whims attack you because of your idleness. It would be better if you would ply your trade again, for by healing one sick man you do more good than with all your talk, which only does harm to yourself and to all whom you lead astray. If you have no wish to continue in your profession, you can always pass your time in some useful occupation, like other wealthy men. You could collect jewelry and other objects fashioned during the period of the pyramids. In truth, Sinuhe, there are many ways of passing the time and so keeping these vain fancies from your mind. Women and wine are in no way the worst means to this end. For Ammon’s sake dice; waste your gold on women; drink yourself insensible; do anything! But do not hurl yourself to destruction with vain talk—for I love you dearly, my lord Sinuhe, and I desire no harm to come to you.”

He said also, “Nothing in the world is perfect. The crust of every loaf is burned, every fruit has its worm, and when a man has drunk wine, he must suffer next morning. For this reason there is no perfect justice; even good deeds have evil consequences, and the best motives may lead to death and defeat, as Akhnaton’s example should have taught you. Look at me, my lord Sinuhe! I am content with my mean lot and grow fat in harmony with gods and men. Pharaoh’s judges bow before me and the people praise my name, while the very dogs defile your garments. Take life quietly; it is not your fault that the world is as it is—that has ever been so and ever will!”

I contemplated his corpulence and his wealth and greatly envied him his peace of mind, but I said to him, “Be it as you say, Kaptah. I will ply my trade once more. Tell me, is the name of Aton still remembered and still cursed? For you spoke his name although it is forbidden.”

Kaptah said, “Truly, Aton’s name was as quickly forgotten as the pillars of Akhnaton were effaced. Yet I have seen artists draw in the manner of Aton, and there are storytellers who tell dangerous tales; one may see now and again the cross of Aton drawn in the sand and upon the walls of latrines, so it may be that Aton is not yet quite dead.”

“Be it as you say. I will ply my trade, and as a recreation I will also start some collection as you have counseled me. As I have no desire to mimic others, I will collect all those who yet remember Aton.”

But Kaptah fancied that I spoke in jest, for he knew as well as I how much evil Aton had brought on Egypt and on myself. After this we talked agreeably of many things. Muti brought wine, and we drank together until slaves came and helped him to rise. Because of his great weight, he found difficulty in getting to his feet. He left me, but on the following day he sent me munificent presents, which secured for me such comfort and plenty that nothing would have been wanting to my happiness, if I could have been happy.

So I set up the physician’s sign above my door and took up my work again, requiring gifts according to the means of my patients. But I required nothing of the poor, and sick people squatted in my courtyard from morning until night. I asked them very cautiously about Aton, being unwilling to frighten them or to give rise to evil report since my reputation in Thebes was already sufficiently black. But I found that Aton had been forgotten and that no one any longer understood him. Only agitators and those who had suffered injustice remembered him, and the cross of Aton was used as an evil symbol to do men harm.

When the waters fell, Eie the priest died. It was said that he had starved to death because his dread of poison would not allow him to eat. Then Horemheb brought the war in Syria to an end and allowed the Hittites to keep Kadesh since he could not win it back. He returned in triumph up the river to Thebes, where he celebrated all his victories. He observed no period of mourning after Eie’s death but declared publicly that Eie had been a false Pharaoh who through his ceaseless warfare and extortionate taxation had brought only suffering to Egypt. Having put an end to the war and closed the gates of Sekhmet’s temple, he persuaded the people that he had never desired war but had been forced to obey the false Pharaoh. Therefore, the people greatly rejoiced at his return.

But as soon as Horemheb had arrived in Thebes, he sent for me and said, “Sinuhe, my friend, I am older than when we parted, and my spirit has been sorely oppressed by your words, with which you accused me of being a bloodthirsty man who brought only harm to Egypt. I now have my desire and have re-established the might of Egypt so that no danger threatens the land: I have snapped the points of the Hittite spears and shall leave the conquest of Kadesh to my son Rameses. I have had my fill of war and mean to build a powerful kingdom for him. Egypt is as filthy as a poor man’s stable, but soon you will see me heave out the dung, replace wrong by right, and give to every man his full measure. Truly, my friend Sinuhe, with my coming the old times return, and all shall be as it was. For this reason I intend to efface from the line of kings the miserable names of Lie and Tutankhamon—since Akhnaton’s has already been removed—that it may seem as if their times had never been. I shall reckon my own reign from the night of great Pharaoh’s death when I came to Thebes spear in hand with my falcon flying ahead.”

He leaned his head moodily in his hand. The war had carved lines in his face and there was no joy in his eyes as he said, “The world is indeed different from what it was when we were boys, when the poor had their full measure and when even in the mud huts there was no lack of oil and fat. But Egypt shall be fruitful and wealthy again. I will send ships to Punt; I will set work going once more in the quarries and deserted mines that I may build bigger temples and gather gold, silver, and copper for Pharaoh’s treasury. In ten years you will not recognize Egypt, Sinuhe, for you shall then see no more beggars or cripples in the land. The weak shall give place to the strong, and I will wash away the sickly blood from Egypt and make of it a sturdy nation, which my sons shall lead into battle for the conquest of the world!”

I did not rejoice at his words. My belly sank to my knees, and my heart was seized with a deadly chill. I did not smile but stood before him dumb.

This angered him, and scowling as of old, he said, “You are as sour as ever, Sinuhe. You are like a barren thornbush in my sight, and I do not know why I expected to feel such joy in meeting you again. I called you to me before ever I had lifted my sons in my arms or embraced my consort Baketamon, for war and power have made me lonely. There was not one single man in Syria with whom I could share my sorrow and joy, and when I spoke I had always to weigh my words. From you, Sinuhe, I desire only friendship. Yet it appears as if your friendship has burned out and as if you felt no joy in my return.”

I bowed low before him and my lonely soul cried out to him. I said, “Horemheb, of all the friends of our youth you are the only one now living. I shall always love you. Now the power is yours, and soon you will set upon your head the crowns of both kingdoms, and no one will be able to curb your power. I beg you, Horemheb: raise up Aton once more! For the sake of our friend Akhnaton, raise up Aton! For the sake of our most terrible crime raise up Aton, that all men may be our brothers and that there may be no more war!”

When Horemheb heard this he shook his head in pity and said, “You are as mad as before, Sinuhe. Don’t you see that Akhnaton threw a stone into the water with a great splash, but now I smooth the surface as if he had never been? Don’t you see that my falcon brought me to the golden house on the night of the great Pharaoh’s death so that Egypt might not fall? I bring back the old ways, for men are never satisfied with the present: in their eyes only the past is good, and the future. I will unite past and future. I will milk the wealthy of their abundance; I will milk the gods who have grown too fat. In my kingdom the rich will not be too rich nor the poor too poor, and neither god nor man will compete with me for power. Yet I talk to you in vain since you cannot comprehend my thought. Your own thoughts are those of a feeble man, and the weak have no right to live in the world but are made to be trampled underfoot by the strong. So is it also with nations; so it has ever been and ever will he.”

Thus we parted, Horemheb and I, and our friendship was diminished. When I left him, he went to his sons and lifted them in his strong arms.

From his sons he went to Princess Baketamon’s room and said to her, “My royal consort, you have shone in my thought like the moon during these past years, and my longing has been very great. Now my work is done, and you shall soon sit by my side as your sacred blood entitles you to do. I have shed much blood for your sake, Baketamon, and for your sake cities have burned. Have I not earned my reward?”