Uarda : a Romance of Ancient Egypt — Volume 05Ebers, Georg
History
Uarda : a Romance of Ancient Egypt — Volume 05
Ebers, Georg
Egypt -- History -- To 332 B.C. -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English
He was considering far-reaching projects, dreaming of possibilities,
devising subtle plans--rejecting them as too subtle, and supplying their
place with others more feasible and less dangerous; altogether the little
diplomatist had no mind for the motley tribes which here surrounded him.
He had passed the temple in which the people of Kaft adored their goddess
Astarte, and the sanctuary of Seth, where they sacrificed to Baal,
without letting himself be disturbed by the dancing devotees or the noise
of cymbals and music which issued from their enclosures. The tents and
slightly-built wooden houses of the dancing girls did not tempt him.
Besides their inhabitants, who in the evening tricked themselves out in
tinsel finery to lure the youth of Thebes into extravagance and folly,
and spent their days in sleeping till sun-down, only the gambling booths
drove a brisk business; and the guard of police had much trouble to
restrain the soldier, who had staked and lost all his prize money, or the
sailor, who thought himself cheated, from such outbreaks of rage and
despair as must end in bloodshed. Drunken men lay in front of the
taverns, and others were doing their utmost, by repeatedly draining their
beakers, to follow their example.
Nothing was yet to be seen of the various musicians, jugglers, fire-
eaters, serpent-charmers, and conjurers, who in the evening displayed
their skill in this part of the town, which at all times had the aspect
of a never ceasing fair. But these delights, which Nemu had passed a
thousand times, had never had any temptation for him. Women and gambling
were not to his taste; that which could be had simply for the taking,
without trouble or exertion, offered no charms to his fancy, he had no
fear of the ridicule of the dancing-women, and their associates--indeed,
he occasionally sought them, for he enjoyed a war of words, and he was of
opinion that no one in Thebes could beat him at having the last word.
Other people, indeed, shared this opinion, and not long before Paaker's
steward had said of Nemu:
"Our tongues are cudgels, but the little one's is a dagger."
The destination of the dwarf was a very large and gaudy tent, not in any
way distinguished from a dozen others in its neighborhood. The opening
which led into it was wide, but at present closed by a hanging of coarse
stuff.
Nemu squeezed himself in between the edge of the tent and the yielding
door, and found himself in an almost circular tent with many angles, and
with its cone-shaped roof supported on a pole by way of a pillar.
Pieces of shabby carpet lay on the dusty soil that was the floor of the
tent, and on these squatted some gaily-clad girls, whom an old woman was
busily engaged in dressing. She painted the finger and toenails of the
fair ones with orange-colored Hennah, blackened their brows and eye-
lashes with Mestem--[Antimony.]--to give brilliancy to their glance,
painted their cheeks with white and red, and anointed their hair with
scented oil.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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