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Around the image shone thousands of burning vessels, of glowing lamps. There was a mist of light and a smoke of incense. And round about the image there was the incessant dance of the hierodules and the worship of the sacrificing priests, all the night through. And ever, like an obsession, there was the rattle of the sistra, as though the whole immense temple were rattling.
Lucius, led by the three women, offered his sacrifice at one of the numberless altars. The priest p.r.o.nounced the sacred words and Lucius poured forth the libation and paid his gold coin.
He felt desperately unhappy.
"Sir," asked one of the women, "do you wish us all three to accompany you to one of the temple-chambers? Or would you have two of us go away?"
He laughed softly at their polite manners, like those of young and well-brought-up children. He gave a melancholy glance:
"I am unwell, I am very unwell," he said. "I think I will go home alone."
"Your eyes are full of pain, sir," said one of the hierodules.
And one of the others said:
"Cannot we comfort you and cure you?"
Lucius shook his head.
"Then let us lead you home," said the third.
They left the temple.
"I live on the river," said Lucius. "I came in a thalamegus."
They walked beside him, like shades. When they reached the barge, Lucius said:
"I am at home here. Let me thank you and pay you. May holy Isis protect you!"
"May holy Isis cure you, sir!" said the hierodules.
He gave them a gold coin apiece. They disappeared in the night, like shades. But under the palm-trees was another shade. It was Cora.
"I am not well," said Lucius. "I came back."
"Do you wish to go to bed, my lord?" asked Cora.
"No, I should not be able to sleep," replied Lucius. "This night is strange and unreal. I will lie here under the trees."
"I will leave you, my lord."
"No, stay," he said. "I am ill and I feel lonely. Stay."
"Suffer me to fetch you a cloak and a pillow, my lord."
"I thank you."
She disappeared into the barge and returned with the pillow and cloak. She covered him up and pushed the pillow under his head.
"The night is strange," he repeated, "and unreal. It is like a white day. There is no dew falling. I shall remain here till Thrasyllus comes. But do you stay. I feel ill and lonely."
"What can I do, my lord? I may not sing: only the sistrum may sound to-night."
"Dance to me; move in the moonlight. Can you dance without accompaniment?"
"Yes, my lord," said Cora.
He lay under the palms. Cora danced in the open moonlight, near the tall river-reeds. She twisted and turned like a white water-nymph that had risen from the stream. She stood still, in att.i.tudes of rapture. She adored Isis, her hands uplifted to the moon. She was very lithe and slender, very white, with white flowers and ears of wheat around her temples.
He lay without moving, watching her. And he thought his only thought: where could Ilia be? For there had not been more than one pirate....
When, late in the night, Thrasyllus returned, he found Lucius asleep under the palms with Cora keeping vigil beside him.
"My lord is asleep," said Cora. And she asked, "Tell me, Thrasyllus: what did Nemu-Pha say?"
The old tutor looked gloomy. And he said:
"The wise ages have been drowned in the night of time. Egypt is Egypt no longer. Sais is Sais no longer. If wisdom still tarries here and is still to be found, I shall find it not by the sea, not in the Delta. This is the granary and the emporium of the world ... but nothing more. Great Isis hides behind her veil the worthlessness and venality of her priests, whose last remaining pride is to sell in great secrecy the word, 'Be a G.o.d unto yourself.'... That word does not satisfy me. But there is Memphis, there is Thebes. I still have hope, Cora ... that I shall find the divine word which will cure him."
The old man stepped on board the barge. The night waned; yonder, in Sais, the twinkling of the Burning Lamps died away.
In the east, the light broke through, as through a bursting sluice. Long, rosy islands seemed to drift in an ocean of molten gold. A long flight of cranes, black against the golden sky, swept down to meet the dawn. c.o.c.ks crowed; and on the waters of Lake Butos the first lotus-blooms opened their white chalices. As it were crimson flowed and lay, here and there, over the silent, silver streaks of the ca.n.a.ls, in pools of purple red.
CHAPTER XV
The travellers had left Sais, after visiting the temple of Athene and the tomb of Psammetichus, son of Necho, founder of the twenty-sixth dynasty, one of the twelve kings of the Dodecarchy, who divided Egypt among themselves after the death of Sethos in B. C. 671. Psammetichus, in obedience to the oracles, defeated and expelled his eleven fellow-kings and reigned alone at Memphis and afterwards at Sais. Here was his tomb; it was sacred; there was an oracle attached to it; and Lucius had consulted that oracle.
After that, Lucius had consulted the manteum, or oracle, of Latona at Butos, on an island in the lake. He had next visited Xois, Hermopolis, Lycopolis, Mendes and all the Sebennytic nome, which contained numberless oracles and shrines. At Mendes the G.o.d Pan was worshipped; and there was an oracle which spoke by means of the G.o.d's pipes. Here the goat was held sacred and received public worship at the hands of priestesses in Dionysiac frenzy. The travellers next visited Diospolis and Leontopolis, Busiris and Cunopolis and all the Busiritic nome.
All these towns, with numbers of villages in between, covered the islands of the flooded Delta, densely peopled and luxuriously cultivated. The great farmsteads and country-mansions stood linked along the ca.n.a.ls, which were filled high to their banks with the flowing waters. The ears of corn swelled with ripeness along the sh.o.r.es; and the cattle gleamed and glanced, grazing in the rich meadows. The fat fields were fragrant, in these last days of the summer month of Epiphi, with a strange, moist scent as of nameless flowers ever drenched in dew. The sun was warm, but not burning, as though the moisture of so many waters tempered all the heat; the fierce rays did not burn, as though they were ever drinking the excessive damp. And from the marshes, which the Nile had turned into lakes, rose no mist, but the scent of the water-flowers: lotus, nymphea and nenuphar.
The rains seemed to have ended. The maximum gauge in the Nilometers appeared to have been reached; only the morning dew was often heavy, like rain. But the days glided past in an immaculate glory of sunshine tempered by moisture, while the rich, fragrant country lay stretched under smooth skies, which changed cloudlessly from morning rose to midday blue and evening gold, in a gradual fusing of tints. There was hardly a breeze in the evening; the atmosphere retained an ideal perfection of heavenly, temperate warmth; this summer warmth was fresh and cool.
The thalamegus glided up the Nile. The river was as wide as a sea; everywhere, in the noonday sun, the pools of the waters glittered in among the farmsteads, mansions and shrines. On the horizon, the outlines of the towns, with the needles of the obelisks, shimmered in the damp haze. At every moment, dense palm-cl.u.s.ters or sycamores raised their regular canopies along the river, forming an avenue, or else tamarisks luxuriated and their branches threw fine shadows, like blue stripes upon gold.
There lay the Athribitic nome and the Prosopitic nome, whose capital is Aphroditopolis. Lucius went on sh.o.r.e with a great retinue. The town, consecrated to Aphrodite, was peopled by none but hierodules, priests and priestesses of the G.o.ddess. Lucius consulted the oracle.
Next morning, after the orgy, he was lying under the triple awning of the barge which was gliding still higher up the river. Around him were screens of plaited, transparent reeds, interwoven with flowers. Thrasyllus sat by his side:
"Nemu-Pha told me," said Thrasyllus, "that both Plato and Pythagoras spent years and years on the steps of the temples of Isis before they were deemed worthy of learning one word of the Hermetic wisdom. Well, I never imagined that Nemu-Pha would unlock the Hermetic wisdom to me. But I did hope perhaps to learn a single word with which, continuing to meditate my own thoughts, I could have unlocked the secret, Lucius, of your happiness. But Nemu-Pha did not speak that word to me. And yet, my son, I had to pay him a high price to be admitted to his sanctuary. I am sorry for wasting your money."