The Tales of Ancient Egypt (10 Historical Novels). Georg Ebers

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СКАЧАТЬ three thousand years, in all the temples and palaces from Naukratis up to the Cataracts. They are all of one type, and represent men of middle age, with grave but benevolent countenances. Yet they are intended, some as statues of aged monarchs, others to perpetuate the memory of young princes. The warrior and the lawgiver, the blood-thirsty tyrant and the philanthropist are only distinguished from each other by a difference in size, by which the Egyptian sculptor expresses the idea of power and strength. Amasis orders a statue just as I should a sword. Breadth and length being specified, we both of us know quite well, before the master has begun his work, what we shall receive when it is finished. How could I possibly fashion an infirm old man like an eager youth? a pugilist like a runner in the foot-race? a poet like a warrior? Put Ibykus and our Spartan friend side by side, and tell me what you would say, were I to give to the stern warrior the gentle features and gestures of our heart-ensnaring poet.”

      “Well, and how does Amasis answer your remarks on this stagnation in art?”

      “He deplores it; but does not feel himself strong enough to abolish the restrictive laws of the priests.”

      “And yet,” said the Delphian, “he has given a large sum towards the embellishment of our new temple, expressly, (I use his own words) for the promotion of Hellenic art!”

      “That is admirable in him,” exclaimed Croesus. “Will the Alkmaeonidae soon have collected the three hundred talents necessary for the completion of the temple? Were I as rich as formerly I would gladly undertake the entire cost; notwithstanding that your malicious god so cruelly deceived me, after all my offerings at his shrine. For when I sent to ask whether I should begin the war with Cyrus, he returned this answer: I should destroy a mighty kingdom by crossing the river Halys. I trusted the god, secured the friendship of Sparta according to his commands, crossed the boundary stream, and, in so doing, did indeed destroy a mighty kingdom; not however that of the Medes and Persians, but my own poor Lydia, which, as a satrapy of Cambyses, finds its loss of independence a hard and uncongenial yoke.”

      “You blame the god unjustly,” answered Phryxus. “It cannot be his fault that you, in your human conceit, should have misinterpreted his oracle. The answer did not say ‘the kingdom of Persia,’ but ‘a kingdom’ should be destroyed through your desire for war. Why did you not enquire what kingdom was meant? Was not your son’s fate truly prophesied by the oracle? and also that on the day of misfortune he would regain his speech? And when, after the fall of Sardis, Cyrus granted your wish to enquire at Delphi whether the Greek gods made a rule of requiting their benefactors by ingratitude, Loxias answered that he had willed the best for you, but was controlled by a mightier power than himself, by that inexorable fate which had foretold to thy great ancestor, that his fifth successor was doomed to destruction.”

      “In the first days of my adversity I needed those words far more than now,” interrupted Croesus. “There was a time when I cursed your god and his oracles; but later, when with my riches my flatterers had left me, and I became accustomed to pronounce judgment on my own actions, I saw clearly that not Apollo, but my own vanity had been the cause of my ruin. How could ‘the kingdom to be destroyed’ possibly mean mine, the mighty realm of the powerful Croesus, the friend of the gods, the hitherto unconquered leader? Had a friend hinted at this interpretation of the ambiguous oracle, I should have derided, nay, probably caused him to be punished. For a despotic ruler is like a fiery steed; the latter endeavors to kick him who touches his wounds with intent to heal; the former punishes him who lays a hand on the weak or failing points of his diseased mind. Thus I missed what, if my eyes had not been dazzled, I might easily have seen; and now that my vision is clearer, though I have nothing to lose, I am far more often anxious than in the days when none could possibly lose more than I. In comparison with those days, Phryxus, I may be called a poor man now, but Cambyses does not leave me to famish, and I can still raise a talent for your temple.”

      Phryxus expressed his thanks, and Phanes remarked “The Alkmaeonida; will be sure to erect a beautiful edifice, for they are rich and ambitious, and desirous of gaining favor with the Amphiktyons, in order, by their aid, to overthrow the tyrants, secure to themselves a higher position than that of the family to which I belong, and with this, the guidance of state-affairs.”

      “Is it true, as people say,” asked Ibykus, “that next to Agarista with whom Megakles received so rich a dowry, you, Croesus, have been the largest contributor to the wealth of the Alkmaeonidae?”

      “True enough,” answered Croesus laughing.

      “Tell us the story, I beg,” said Rhodopis.

      “Well,” answered Croesus, “Alkmaeon of Athens once appeared at my court; his cheerfulness and cultivation pleased me well, and I retained him near me for some time. One day I showed him my treasure-chambers, at the sight of which he fell into despair, called himself a common beggar and declared that one good handful of these precious things would make him a happy man. I at once allowed him to take as much gold away as he could carry. What think you did Alkaemmon on this? sent for high Lydian riding-boots, an apron and a basket, had the one secured behind him, put the others on, and filled them all with gold, till they could hold no more. Not content with this, he strewed gold-dust in his hair and beard and filled his mouth to that extent that he appeared in the act of choking. In each hand he grasped a golden dish, and thus laden dragged himself out of the treasure-house, falling exhausted as he crossed the threshold. Never have I laughed so heartily as at this sight.”

      “But did you grant him all these treasures?” said Rhodopis.

      “Yes, yes, my friend; and did not think even then, that I had paid too dearly for the experience that gold can make fools even of clever men.”

      “You were the most generous of monarchs,” cried Phanes.

      “And make a tolerably contented beggar,” answered Croesus. “But tell me, Phryxus, how much has Amasis contributed to your collection?”

      “He gave fifty tons of alum.”

      “A royal gift!”

      “And the prince Psamtik?”

      “On my appealing to him by his father’s munificence, he turned his back on me, and answered with a bitter laugh: ‘Collect money for the destruction of your temple, and I am ready to double my father’s donation!’”

      “The wretch!”

      “Say rather: the true Egyptian! to Psamtik everything foreign is an abomination.”

      “How much have the Greeks in Naukratis contributed?”

      “Beside munificent private donations, each community has given twenty minae.”

      “That is much.”

      “Philoinus, the Sybarite, alone sent me a thousand drachmm, and accompanied his gift with a most singular epistle. May I read it aloud, Rhodopis?”

      “Certainly,” answered she, “it will show you that the drunkard has repented of his late behaviour.”

      The Delphian began: “Philoinus to Phryxus: It grieves me that at Rhodopis’ house the other night I did not drink more; for had I done so I should have lost consciousness entirely, and so have been unable to offend even the smallest insect. My confounded abstemiousness is therefore to blame, that I can no longer enjoy a place at the best table in all Egypt. I am thankful, however, to Rhodopis for past enjoyment, and in memory of her glorious roast-beef (which has bred in me the wish to buy her cook at any price) I send twelve large spits for roasting oxen,—[Rhodopis is said to have sent such a gift to Delphi. Herod.]—and beg they may be placed in some treasure-house at Delphi СКАЧАТЬ