Georg Ebers - Premium Collection: Historical Novels, Stories & Autobiography. Georg Ebers
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to him that his patient was awake. He nodded in reply, pointing to his own weary eyes with a smile, felt the sick girl’s pulse, and asked her in Egyptian how she had slept.
“I do not know,” she answered, in a voice that was hardly audible. “It seemed to me that I was asleep, and yet I saw and heard everything that had happened in the room. I felt so weak that I hardly knew whether I was awake or asleep. Has not Atossa been here several times?”
“Yes.”
“And Cambyses stayed with Kassandane until sunrise; then he went out, mounted his horse Reksch, and rode into the game-park.”
“How do you know that?”
“I saw it.”
Nebenchari looked anxiously into the girl’s shining eyes. She went on: “A great many dogs have been brought into the court behind this house.”
“Probably the king has ordered a hunt, in order to deaden the pain which he feels at seeing you suffer.”
“Oh, no. I know better what it means. Oropastes taught me, that whenever a Persian dies dogs’ are brought in, that the Divs may enter into them.”
“But you are living, my mistress, and...”
“Oh, I know very well that I shall die. I knew that I had not many hours more to live, even if I had not seen how you and the other physicians shrugged your shoulders whenever you looked at me. That poison is deadly.”
“You are speaking too much, my mistress, it will hurt you.”
“Oh let me speak, Nebenchari! I must ask you to do something for me before I die.”
“I am your servant.”
“No, Nebenchari, you must be my friend and priest. You are not angry with me for having prayed to the Persian gods? Our own Hathor was always my best friend still. Yes, I see by your face that you forgiven me. Then you must promise not to allow my corpse to be torn in pieces by dogs and vultures. The thought is so very dreadful. You will promise to embalm my body and ornament it with amulets?”
“If the king allows.”
“Of course he will. How could Cambyses possibly refuse my last request?”
“Then my skill is at your service.”
“Thank you; but I have still something else to ask.”
“You must be brief. My Persian colleagues are already making signs to me, to enjoin silence on you.”
“Can’t you send them away for a moment?”
“I will try to do so.”
Nebenchari then went up and spoke to the Magi for a few minutes, and they left the room. An important incantation, at which no one but the two concerned might be present, and the application of a new and secret antidotal poison were the pretexts which he had used in order to get rid of them.
When they were alone, Nitetis drew a breath of relief and said: “Give me your priestly blessing on my long journey into the nether world, and prepare me for my pilgrimage to Osiris.”
Nebenchari knelt down by her bed and in a low voice repeated hymns, Nitetis making devotional responses.
The physician represented Osiris, the lord of the nether world—Nitetis the soul, justifying itself before him.
When these ceremonies were ended the sick girl breathed more freely. Nebenchari could not but feel moved in looking at this young suicide. He felt confident that he had saved a soul for the gods of his native land, had cheered the last sad and painful hours of one of God’s good creatures. During these last moments, compassion and benevolence had excluded every bitter feeling; but when he remembered that this lovely creature owed all her misery to Amasis too, the old black cloud of thought darkened his mind again.—Nitetis, after lying silent for some time, turned to her new friend with a pleasant smile, and said: “I shall find mercy with the judges of the dead now, shall not I?”
“I hope and believe so.”
“Perhaps I may find Tachot before the throne of Osiris, and my father....”
“Your father and mother are waiting for you there. Now in your last hour bless those who begot you, and curse those who have robbed you of your parents, your crown and your life.”
“I do not understand you.”
“Curse those who robbed you of your parents, crown and life, girl!” cried the physician again, rising to his full height, breathing hard as he said the words, and gazing down on the dying girl. “Curse those wretches, girl! that curse will do more in gaining mercy from the judges of the dead, than thousands of good works!” And as he said this he seized her hand and pressed it violently.
Nitetis looked up uneasily into his indignant face, and stammered in blind obedience, “I curse those who robbed my parents of their throne and lives!”
“Those who robbed my parents of their throne and their lives,” she repeated after him, and then crying, “Oh, my heart!” sank back exhausted on the bed.
Nebenchari bent down, and before the royal physicians could return, kissed her forehead gently, murmuring: “She dies my confederate. The gods hearken to the prayers of those who die innocent. By carrying the sword into Egypt, I shall avenge king Hophra’s wrongs as well as my own.”
When Nitetis opened her eyes once more, a few hours later, Kassandane was holding her right hand, Atossa kneeling at her feet, and Croesus standing at the head of her bed, trying, with the failing strength of old age, to support the gigantic frame of the king, who was so completely overpowered by his grief, that he staggered like a drunken man. The dying girl’s eyes lighted up as she looked round on this circle. She was wonderfully beautiful. Cambyses came closer and kissed her lips; they were growing cold in death. It was the first kiss he had ever given her, and the last. Two large tears sprang to her eyes; their light was fast growing dim; she murmured Cambyses’ name softly, fell back in Atossa’s arms, and died.
We shall not give a detailed account of the next few hours: it would be an unpleasant task to describe how, at a signal from the principal Persian doctor, every one, except Nebenchari and Croesus, hastily left the room; how dogs were brought in and their sagacious heads turned towards the corpse in order to scare the demon of death;—how, directly after Nitetis’ death, Kassandane, Atossa and their entire retinue moved into another house in order to avoid defilement;—how fire was extinguished throughout the dwelling, that the pure element might be removed from the polluting spirits of death;—how spells and exorcisms were muttered, and how every person and thing, which had approached or been brought into contact with the dead body, was subjected to numerous purifications with water and pungent fluids.
The same evening Cambyses was seized by one of his old epileptic attacks. Two days later he gave Nebenchari permission to embalm Nitetis’ body in the Egyptian manner, according to her last wish. The king gave way to the most immoderate grief; he tore the flesh of his arms, rent his clothes and strewed ashes on his head, and on his couch. All the magnates of his court were obliged to follow his example. The troops mounted guard with rent banners and muffled drums. The cymbals and kettle-drums of the “Immortals” were bound round with crape. The horses which Nitetis had used, as well as all which were then in use by the court, were colored blue and deprived of their tails; the entire court appeared in mourning robes of dark brown, rent to the girdle, and the Magi were compelled to pray three days and nights unceasingly for the soul of the dead, which was supposed to be awaiting its sentence for eternity at the bridge Chinvat on the third night.
Neither the king, Kassandane, nor Atossa shrank from submitting to the necessary purifications; they repeated, as if for one of their nearest relations, thirty prayers for the dead, while, in a house outside the city gates Nebenchari began to embalm her body in the most costly manner, and according to the strictest rules of his art.
[Embalming was practised in three different ways. The first cost a
talent of silver (L225.); the second 20 Minae