Uarda : a Romance of Ancient Egypt. Volume 07. Georg Ebers
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thy sorrows only to the wine before thee gleaming bright.
But when thrice thou st drained the beaker watch and ward keep o'er thy heart.
Lest the foam of joy should vanish, and thy soul with anguish smart,
This for every earthly trouble is a sovereign remedy,
Therefore listen to my counsel, knowing what will profit thee,
Heed not time, for ah, how many a man has longed in pain
Tale of evil days to lighten—and found all his longing vain."
"What a simile!" cried Gagabu. "You must explain it."
"It cleanses the soul of sorrow," answered the other. "Good, friend!" they all exclaimed. "Now every one in turn shall praise the noble juice in some worthy saying."
"You begin—the chief prophet of the temple of Atnenophis."
"Sorrow is a poison," said the priest, "and wine is the antidote."
"Well said!—go on; it is your turn, my lord privy councillor."
"Every thing has its secret spring," said the official, "and wine is the secret of joy."
"Now you, my lord keeper of the seal."
"Wine seals the door on discontent, and locks the gates on sorrow."
"That it does, that it certainly does!—Now the governor of Hermothis, the oldest of all the company."
"Wine ripens especially for us old folks, and not for you young people."
"That you must explain," cried a voice from the table of the military officers.
"It makes young men of the old," laughed the octogenarian, "and children of the young."
"He has you there, you youngsters," cried Gagabu. "What have you to say, Septah?"
"Wine is a poison," said the morose haruspex, "for it makes fools of wise men."
"Then you have little to fear from it, alas!" said Gagabu laughing. "Proceed, my lord of the chase."
"The rim of the beaker," was the answer, "is like the lip of the woman you love. Touch it, and taste it, and it is as good as the kiss of a bride."
"General—the turn is yours."
"I wish the Nile ran with such wine instead of with water," cried the soldier, "and that I were as big as the colossus of Atnenophis, and that the biggest obelisk of Hatasu were my drinking vessel, and that I might drink as much as I would! But now—what have you to say of this noble liquor, excellent Gagabu?"
The second prophet raised his beaker, and gazed lovingly at the golden fluid; he tasted it slowly, and then said with his eyes turned to heaven:
"I only fear that I am unworthy to thank the Gods for such a divine blessing."
"Well said!" exclaimed the Regent Ani, who had re-entered the room unobserved. "If my wine could speak, it would thank you for such a speech."
"Hail to the Regent Ani!" shouted the guests, and they all rose with their cups filled with his noble present.
He pledged them and then rose.
"Those," said he, "who have appreciated this wine, I now invite to dine with me to-morrow. You will then meet with it again, and if you still find it to your liking, you will be heartily welcome any evening. Now, good night, friends."
A thunder of applause followed him, as he quitted the room.
The morning was already grey, when the carousing-party broke up; few of the guests could find their way unassisted through the courtyard; most of them had already been carried away by the slaves, who had waited for them—and who took them on their heads, like bales of goods—and had been borne home in their litters; but for those who remained to the end, couches were prepared in the House of Seti, for a terrific storm was now raging.
While the company were filling and refilling the beakers, which raised their spirits to so wild a pitch, the prisoner Pentaur had been examined in the presence of the Regent. Ameni's messenger had found the poet on his knees, so absorbed in meditation that he did not perceive his approach. All his peace of mind had deserted him, his soul was in a tumult, and he could not succeed in obtaining any calm and clear control over the new life-pulses which were throbbing in his heart.
He had hitherto never gone to rest at night without requiring of himself an account of the past day, and he had always been able to detect the most subtle line that divided right from wrong in his actions. But to-night he looked back on a perplexing confusion of ideas and events, and when he endeavored to sort them and arrange them, he could see nothing clearly but the image of Bent-Anat, which enthralled his heart and intellect.
He had raised his hand against his fellow-men, and dipped it in blood, he desired to convince himself of his sin, and to repent but he could not; for each time he recalled it, to blame and condemn himself, he saw the soldier's hand twisted in Uarda's hair, and the princess's eyes beaming with approbation, nay with admiration, and he said to himself that he had acted rightly, and in the same position would do the same again to-morrow. Still he felt that he had broken through all the conditions with which fate had surrounded his existence, and it seemed to him that he could never succeed in recovering the still, narrow, but peaceful life of the past.
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