Egypt -- Description and travel; Egypt -- History -- 19th century; Nile River -- Description and travel
We enter the inner court--an irregular quadrangle inclosed on the east
by an open colonnade, on the west by a chapel fronted with Hathor-headed
columns, and on the north and south sides by the second and first
propylons. In this quadrangle a cloisteral silence reigns. The blue sky
burns above--the shadows sleep below--a tender twilight lies about our
feet. Inside the chapel there sleeps perpetual gloom. It was built by
Ptolemy Euergetes II, and is one of that order to which Champollion gave
the name of Mammisi. It is a most curious place, dedicated to Hathor and
commemorative of the nurture of Horus. On the blackened walls within,
dimly visible by the faint light which struggles through screen and
doorway, we see Isis, the wife and sister of Osiris, giving birth to
Horus. On the screen panels outside we trace the story of his infancy,
education, and growth. As a babe at the breast, he is nursed in the lap
of Hathor, the divine foster-mother. As a young child, he stands at his
mother’s knee and listens to the playing of a female harpist (we saw a
bare-footed boy the other day in Cairo thrumming upon a harp of just the
same shape and with precisely as many strings); as a youth, he sows
grain in honor of Isis and offers a jeweled collar to Hathor. This Isis,
with her long aquiline nose, thin lips, and haughty aspect, looks like
one of the complimentary portraits so often introduced among the
temple-sculptures of Egypt. It may represent one of the two Cleopatras
wedded to Ptolemy Physcon.
Two greyhounds with collars round their necks are sculptured on the
outer wall of another small chapel adjoining. These also look like
portraits. Perhaps they were the favorite dogs of some high priest of
Philæ.
Close against the greyhounds and upon the same wall-space, is engraven
that famous copy of the inscription of the Rosetta stone first observed
here by Lepsius in A.D. 1843. It neither stands so high nor looks so
illegible as Ampère (with all the jealousy of a Champollionist and a
Frenchman) is at such pains to make out. One would have said that it was
in a state of more than ordinary good preservation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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