your comrades a young man named Metufer? He is the son of Pharaoh’s master builder.”
It was Metufer who had filled the priest with wine and given him a gold bracelet as initiation present. I felt a pang as I told her that I knew him and offered to fetch him. Then it struck me that she might be his sister or some other kinswoman; this cheered me and I smiled at her boldly.
“How am I to fetch him, though, when I do not know your name and cannot tell him who has sent me?”
“He knows,” returned the woman, tapping the pavement impatiently with her jeweled sandal. I looked at the little feet, unsoiled by dust, and at the beautiful toenails lacquered bright red. “He knows who it is. Perhaps he owes me something. Perhaps my husband is on a journey, and I am waiting for Metufer to come and console me in my grief.”
My heart sank once more at the thought that she was married, but I said briskly, “Very well, fair unknown! I will fetch him. I will say that a woman younger and fairer than the moon goddess calls for him. He will know then who it is, for whoever has seen you once can never forget you.”
Scared at my own presumption I turned to go, but she caught hold of me.
“Why such haste? Wait! You and I may have something more to say to one another.”
She surveyed me again until my heart melted in my breast and my stomach seemed to have slipped down to my knees. She stretched forth a hand heavy with rings and bracelets, touched my head and said kindly, “Is not that handsome head cold, being so newly shaven?” Then softly, “Were you speaking the truth? Do you think I am beautiful? Look more closely.”
I looked at her, and her robe was of royal linen, and in my eyes she was fair-fairer than all the women I had seen-and in truth she did nothing to hide her beauty. I looked at her and forgot the wound in my heart, forgot Ammon and the House of Life. Her nearness burned my body like fire.
“You do not answer,” she said sadly, “and need not. In those v splendid eyes of yours I must appear a hag. Go then and fetch the young candidate Metufer, and be rid of me.”
I could neither leave her nor speak, though I knew she was teasing. It was dark between the huge temple pillars. Dim light from some distant stone tracery gleamed in her eyes, and there was no one to see us.
“Perhaps you need not fetch him.” She was smiling now. “Perhaps I should be content if you delight me and take your pleasure with me, for I know of no other to give me joy.”
Then I remembered what Kipa had told me of women who entice handsome boys; I remembered it so suddenly that I started back a pace.
“Did I not guess that Sinuhe would be afraid?”
She approached me again, but I raised my hand in dismay to hold her off, saying, “I know now what manner of woman you are. Your husband is away, and your heart is a snare, and your body burns worse than fire.”
But though I spoke this way, I could not flee from her.
She was taken aback but smiled again and came close against me.
“Do you believe that?” she said gently. “But it is not true! My body does not burn at all like fire; indeed, it is said to be desirable. Feel for yourself!”
She took my limp hand and carried it to her belly. I felt her beauty through the thin stuff so that I began to quake, and my cheeks burned. u You still do not believe me,” she said with feigned disappointment. % dress is in the way, but stay-I will draw it aside.” She pulled away her robe and held my hand to her bare breast. It was soft and cool beneath my hand.
“Come, Sinuhe,” she said very softly. “Come with me, and we will drink wine and take our pleasure together.”
“I may not leave the precincts of the temple,” I said in a fright and was ashamed of my cowardice and desired her and feared her as I would have feared death. “I must keep myself undefiled until I have received my consecration, or I shall be driven from the temple and never again be admitted to the House of Life. Have pity on me!”
I said this knowing that if she asked me once again I must follow her. But she was a woman of the world and knew my distress. She looked about her thoughtfully. We were still alone, but people were moving to and fro nearby, and a guide was loudly reciting the marvels of the temple to some visitors and begging copper from them before showing them new wonders.
“You are a very shy young man, Sinuhe!” she said. “The rich and great must offer gold before I call them to me. But you would remain undefiled.”
“You would like me to call Metufer,” I said desperately. I knew that Metufer would never hesitate to slip out of the temple when night fell, although it was his turn to watch. He could do such things, for his father was Pharaoh’s master builder-but I could have slain him for it.
“Perhaps I no longer wish you to call Metufer,” she said, looking mischievously into my eyes. “Perhaps I should like us to part friends, Sinuhe. Therefore I will tell you my name, which is Nefernefernefer, because I am thought beautiful and because no one who has pronounced my name can resist saying it once more, and again. It is a custom also for parting friends to give one another keepsakes. Therefore I want a gift from you,”
I was once more aware of my poverty, for I had nothing to give her: not the most trifling little ornament, not the smallest copper ring-nor if I had could I have offered such things to her. I was so bitterly ashamed that I bent my head, unable to speak.
“Then give me a present to revive my heart,” she said, and she raised my chin with her finger and brought her face quite close. When I understood what she wanted, I touched her soft lips with mine. She sighed a little.
“Thank you. That was a beautiful gift, Sinuhe. I shall not forget it. But you must be a stranger from a far country since you have not yet learned how to kiss. How else is it possible that the girls of
Thebes have not taught you, though your hair is shorn for manhood?”
She drew from her thumb a ring of gold and silver in which was set a large stone without any inscription and put it on my hand.
“I give you a present also, Sinuhe, so that you may not forget me. When you have been initiated and have entered the House of Life, you can have your seal engraved upon this stone, like men of wealth and position. But remember that it is green because my name is Nefer- nefernefer, and because it has been said that my eyes are as green as Nile water in the heat of summer.”
“I cannot take your ring, Nefer,” and I repeated it “nefernefer” and the repetition gave me untold joy, “but I shall not forget you.”
“Silly boy! Keep the ring because I wish it. Keep it for a whim of mine, and for the interest it will pay me some day.”
She shook a slim finger before my face, and her eyes laughed as she said, “And remember to beware of women whose bodies burn worse than fire!”
She turned to go, forbidding me to follow her. Through the temple door I saw her step into a carved and ornamented chair that was awaiting her in the courtyard. A runner went before and shouted to clear a way, the people standing aside whispering and looking after her. When she had gone, I was seized with a deadly emptiness as if I had dived headfirst into a dark abyss.
Metufer noticed the ring on my finger some days later; he gripped my hand suspiciously and stared at it.
“By all the forty just baboons of Osiris! Nefemefernefer, eh? I would never have believed it.” He looked at me with something like respect although the priest had set me to scrub the floors and carry out the most menial tasks because I had not had the wit to give him a present.
Then I conceived such a hatred of Metufer and his words as only a youth can feel. However much I longed to ask him about Nefer I would not stoop to it. I hid my secret in my heart, for a lie is more lovely than the truth and a “dream purer than earthly contact. I contemplated the green stone upon my finger, remembering her eyes and her cool bosom, and seemed still to sense her perfumed ointments on my fingers. I held her, and her soft lips still touched mine-in consolation, for by then Ammon had revealed himself to me and my faith was gone.
When I thought of her, I whispered with burning cheeks, “My sister.” And the word was a caress in my ears, for from untold ages its meaning has been and will ever be, “My beloved.”
3
