Uarda : a Romance of Ancient Egypt — CompleteEbers, Georg
History
Uarda : a Romance of Ancient Egypt — Complete
Ebers, Georg
Egypt -- History -- To 332 B.C. -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English
The elegantly carved seats were made of ivory, the tables of ebony, and
they, as well as the couches, had gilt feet. The artistically worked
Syrian drinking vessels on the sideboard, tables, and consoles were
of many forms; beautiful vases full of flowers stood everywhere; rare
perfumes rose from alabaster cups, and the foot sank in the thick pile
of the carpets which covered the floor.
And over the apparently careless arrangement of these various objects
there reigned a peculiar charm, an indescribably fascinating something.
Stretched at full-length on a couch, and playing with a
silky-haired white cat, lay the fair Nefert--fanned to coolness by a
negro-girl--while her mother Katuti nodded a last farewell to her sister
Setchem and to Paaker.
Both had crossed this threshold for the first time for four years, that
is since the marriage of Mena with Nefert, and the old enmity seemed now
to have given way to heartfelt reconciliation and mutual understanding.
After the pioneer and his mother had disappeared behind the pomegranate
shrubs at the entrance of the garden, Katuti turned to her daughter and
said:
“Who would have thought it yesterday? I believe Paaker loves you still.”
Nefert colored, and exclaimed softly, while she hit the kitten gently
with her fan--
“Mother!”
Katuti smiled.
She was a tall woman of noble demeanor, whose sharp but delicately-cut
features and sparkling eyes could still assert some pretensions to
feminine beauty. She wore a long robe, which reached below her
ankles; it was of costly material, but dark in color, and of a studied
simplicity. Instead of the ornaments in bracelets, anklets, ear and
finger-rings, in necklaces and clasps, which most of the Egyptian
ladies--and indeed her own sister and daughter--were accustomed to wear,
she had only fresh flowers, which were never wanting in the garden
of her son-in-law. Only a plain gold diadem, the badge of her royal
descent, always rested, from early morning till late at night, on her
high brow--for a woman too high, though nobly formed--and confined the
long blue-black hair, which fell unbraided down her back, as if its
owner contemned the vain labor of arranging it artistically. But nothing
in her exterior was unpremeditated, and the unbejewelled wearer of the
diadem, in her plain dress, and with her royal figure, was everywhere
sure of being observed, and of finding imitators of her dress, and
indeed of her demeanor.
And yet Katuti had long lived in need; aye at the very hour when we
first make her acquaintance, she had little of her own, but lived on the
estate of her son-in-law as his guest, and as the administrator of his
possessions; and before the marriage of her daughter she had lived with
her children in a house belonging to her sister Setchem.
She had been the wife of her own brother,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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