poor quarter by the harbor knew me and my works. Therefore, no crosses or shameful pictures appeared on my walls, and no carcasses were flung into my courtyard. Even the drunken rioters avoided my house when they wandered the streets at night, shrieking the name of Ammon to annoy the watch. Respect for those who bore the sign of Pharaoh was in the people’s very blood, despite all the priests could do to convince them that Akhnaton was a false Pharaoh.
But one hot day little Thoth came home from playing, beaten and bruised, with blood running from his nose and a tooth missing from his jaw. He came in sobbing although striving to be very brave, and Mut’ was aghast. She wept with rage as she washed his face, then seizing a washing club in her bony fist she cried, “Ammon or Aton, it is all one-but this the rush weaver’s brats shall pay for!”
She was gone before I could stop her, and soon from the street came the howls of boys, cries for help, and the oaths of a grown man. Thoth and I peeped fearfully out through the door and saw Muti thrashing in the name of Aton all five sons of the rush weaver, his wife, and the man himself. Presently she returned, still panting with fury, and when I sought to upbraid her and explain that hatred bred hatred and vengeance begot vengeance, she came near to clubbing me also. In the course of the day her conscience began to trouble her, and having packed honey cakes and a jar of beer in a basket, she took them to the rush weaver and made peace with him and his wife and children. After this incident the man held Muti in veneration, and his boys became the friends of Thoth. They pilfered honey cakes from our kitchen and together fought as much with horns as with crosses whenever young partisans strayed into our street to make mischief.
5
There remains little to say of this sojourn in Thebes. A day came When Pharaoh Akhnaton summoned me because his headaches had become worse, and I could no longer postpone my departure. I bade farewell to Merit and little Thoth, for to my sorrow I could not take them with me on this journey since Pharaoh had commanded me to return with all possible speed.
I said to Merit, “Come after me, you and little Thoth! Dwell with me in my house at Akhetaton, and we will all be happy together.”
Merit said, “Take a flower from its place in the desert, plant it in rich soil, and water it every day, and it will wither and die. So would it be with me in Akhetaton, and your friendship for me would wither and die likewise when you compared me with the women of the court. They would take care to stress every point in which I differ from them-for I know women, and men also, I believe. It would ill become your rank to keep a tavern-bred woman in your house who year after year has been fumbled after by sots.”
I said to her, “Merit, my beloved, I will come to you as soon as I may, for I hunger and thirst every hour that I am absent from you. Many have left Akhetaton never to return, and perhaps I shall do the same.”
But she answered, “You say more than your heart can answer for, Sinuhe. I know you. I know that it is not in your nature to forsake Pharaoh when others forsake him. In the good days you might have done it, but now you cannot. Such is your heart, Sinuhe, and perhaps it is for this reason that I am your friend.”
Her words set my heart in a turmoil, and there was a prickling in my throat as of chaff when I reflected that I might lose her. Very earnestly I said to her, “Merit, Egypt is not the only country in the world. I am weary of battles between gods and of Pharaoh’s madness. Let us fly to some place far away and live together, you and I and little Thoth, without fear of the morrow.”
But Merit smiled and the sorrow in her eyes grew and darkened as she said, “Your talk is vain, and you know yourself that it is, yet even your lies please me because they show that you love me. But I do not think that you could live happily anywhere save in Egypt, nor I anywhere save in Thebes. No, Sinuhe, no man can escape his own heart. In course of time, when I had grown old and ugly and fat, you would sicken of me and hate me because of all you had missed on my account. I would rather give you up than see that happen.”
“You are my home and my country, Merit. You are the bread in my hand and the wine in my mouth, and you know it well. You are the one being in the world in whose company I am not lonely, and for that I love you.”
“Yes, indeed!” rejoined Merit a little bitterly. “I am but the cushion to soften your loneliness-when I am not your worn mat. But that is how it must be, arid I desire nothing else. Therefore, I do not tell you the secret that eats at my heart and which perhaps you should know. I will keep it to myself although in my weakness I had meant to tell you. It is for your sake I conceal it, Sinuhe, for your sake only.”
She would not confide her secret to me, for she was prouder than I and perhaps lonelier, although at that time I did not understand and thought only of myself. It is my belief that all men do so when they love, though this is no excuse for me. Men who believe they think of anything but themselves when they love are deluded, as they are in many other matters.
Once more, then, I departed from Thebes and went back to Akhetaton, and of that which followed there is nothing but evil to relate.
BOOK 13
Aton’s Kingdom on Earth
1
Upon my return to Akhetaton I found Pharaoh exceedingly ill and in need of my help. His face was narrower, his cheekbones protruded, and his neck seemed even longer than before. It was incapable now of supporting the weight of the double crown, which pulled his head backward when he wore it on state occasions. His thighs had swollen, although his legs below the knees were mere sticks; his eyes also were puffy from constant headaches and were ringed with purple shadows. They did not look directly at anyone; his gaze wandered into other realms, and he often forgot the people with whom he spoke. The headaches were made worse by his custom of walking uncovered in the midday sun, to receive its rays of benediction upon his head. But the rays of Aton shed no blessing; they poisoned him so that he raved and saw evil visions. Perhaps his god was like himself, too liberal with his loving kindness, too overwhelming and profuse for his blessing to be other than a blight to all it touched.
In Pharaoh’s lucid moments, when I applied wet cloths to his head and administered mild sedatives to soothe the pain, his dark, afflicted gaze would rest upon me in such unspeakable disillusion that my heart was moved for him in his weakness and I loved him; I would have sacrificed much to spare him this anguish.
He said to me, “Sinuhe, can it be that my visions are lies-the fruit of a sick brain? If so, then life is inconceivably hideous, and the world is ruled not by goodness but by a boundless evil. But this cannot be so, and my visions must be true. Do you hear, Sinuhe, the stiff-necked? My visions must be true although his sun no longer illuminates my heart, and my friends spit on my couch. I am not blind. I see into the hearts of men. I see into your heart also, Sinuhe-your weak and vacillating heart-and I know that you believe me mad. Yet I forgive you because of the light that once shone into that heart.”
When pain assailed him he moaned and cried, “Men take pity on a sick animal, Sinuhe, and dispatch it with a club, and a spear brings release to the wounded lion-but to a man no one will show mercy!
My disillusion is more bitter to me than death because his light streams into my heart. Though my body die, yet shall my spirit live eternally. Of the sun am I born, Sinuhe; to the sun shall I return-and I long for that return because of the bitterness of my desolation.”
With the coming of autumn he began to recover although it might have been better if I had let him go. But a physician may not allow his patient to die if his arts can avail to cure him-and this proves often the doctor’s curse. Pharaoh’s health improved and with this improvement came reserve; he would converse no further with me or with others. His eyes were hard now, and his solitude profound.
He had spoken no more than the truth when he said that his friends spat on his couch, for having borne him five daughters Queen Nefertiti wearied of him and came to loathe him and sought by every means to cause him pain. When for the sixth time the seed quickened within her, the child in her womb was Pharaoh’s in name only. She
