I.N.R.I Part 8

"That is your son?" said the king in his own language.

Joseph bowed affirmatively.

"You are a Jew! Will you sell me the boy?" asked Pharaoh.

And then Joseph: "Pharaoh! although I am a descendant of Jacob, whose sons sold their brother Joseph into Egypt, I do not deserve your irony.

We are poor people, but the child is our most cherished possession."

"I only spoke in kindness about the selling," said the king. "You are my subjects, and the boy is my property. Take him, Hamar."

The servant was ready to put his hand on the little boy, who stood by quietly and looked resolutely at the king. Joseph fell on his knees and respectfully represented that he and his family were not Egyptian subjects, but lived there as strangers, and implored the almighty Pharaoh to allow him the rights of hospitality.

"I know nothing about all that, my good man," said the king. Then, catching sight of the boy's angry face, he laughed. "Meseems, my young Jew, that you would crush me to powder. Let me live a little longer in this pleasant land of Egypt. I shall not harm you. You are much too beautiful a child for that." He stopped, and then continued in a different tone: "Wait, and look more closely at Pharaoh, and see if he is really so terribly wicked, and whether it would be so dreadful to live in his palace and hand him the goblet when he is thirsty. Well?

Be a.s.sured, old man, I shall do you no violence. Boy, you shall come to my court of your own free will, you shall share the education and instruction of the children of my n.o.bles; only sometimes I shall have you with me, you fine young gazelle. Now go home with your father.

To-morrow I will send and ask, mark you--only ask, not command. He who is tired of plundered booty knows how to value a free gift. You hear what I say?"

When the crowd heard Pharaoh speak to these poor people with such unwonted kindness, the like of which they had never heard before, they uttered mad shouts of joy. As the king proceeded on his way in his two-wheeled golden chariot, a long array of soldiers, cymbal players, and dancing girls following behind, the palm-groves resounded with the cries of the people. Joseph fled with the boy down narrow streets so as to avoid the crowd that wanted to press round him and look at and pet Pharaoh's little favourite.

The same evening an anxious council was held in the little hut. The boy, Jesus, was drawn to Pharaoh without saying why. They were terrified about it. The two working people had no idea that their life was becoming too narrow for his young soul, that he wanted to fortify himself with the knowledge to be obtained from the papyrus rolls of the ancient men of wisdom, with the intellectual products of the land of the Pharaohs. And still less did they imagine that a deeper reason led their boy to desire to learn something of life in the world.

Joseph admitted that the ma.n.u.scripts in the royal collection counted for something. But Mary put little trust in the writings, and still less in Pharaoh.

"We've had," she said, "a painful experience of the good intentions of kings. Having escaped the violence of Herod with difficulty, are we to submit to that of Pharaoh? They all play the same game, only in a different way. What Jerusalem could not accomplish by force, Memphis will accomplish by cunning."

Joseph said: "My dear wife, you are not naturally so mistrustful. Yet after what we have gone through it is no wonder. This legend of a young King of the Jews has been a real fatality to us. Whoever started it can never answer for all the woes it brings."

"Let us leave that to the Lord, Joseph, and do what it is ours to do."

When Joseph was alone with her he said: "It seems to me, Mary, that you believe our Jesus is destined for great things. But you must remember that a basket-maker's hut is not exactly the right place for that. He would have a better chance at Pharaoh's court--like Moses. And we know that the King of Egypt is no friend of Herod. No, that is not his line; he really wishes well to the child, and no one can better understand that than ourselves. Did he not say that our darling should be treated like the children of the n.o.bles?"

In the end she decided to do what was best for the child. He was past ten years old, and if he wished to go from the mud hut to the palace, well, she would not forbid it.

Jesus heard her words. "Mother," he said, and stood in front of her, "I do not wish to go from the mud hut to the palace, but I want to see the world and men and how they live. I am not abandoning my parents to go to Pharaoh--although I go, I remain here with you."

"You remain with us," said his mother, "and yet I see that even now you are no longer here."

But she would not let him know how it was with her. He should not see her weep. She would not spoil his pleasure. And then they discovered that after all he was not going very far away, only from the Nile to the town, and that Pharaoh had promised him liberty; he could visit his parents, and return to them whenever he so wished. But he would no longer be the same child who went from them. Mary reflected that that was the usual case with mother and son; the youth gave himself up more and more to strangers, and less and less of him remained to his mother.

There remained to her the memory that she had borne him in pain, that she had nourished him with her life; she had a claim on him more sacred and everlasting than any other could have. But gradually and inevitably he separated himself from his mother, and what she would do for him, and give him, and be to him, he kindly but decidedly set aside. She must even give him her prayerful blessing in secret; she hardly dared to touch his head with her trembling hands.

Next day at noon a royal litter stood before the hut. Two slaves were the bearers, one of whom was old and feeble. When Mary saw the litter she exclaimed that she would not allow her child to lie on so soft a couch. The boy smiled a little, so that two dimples appeared on his rosy cheeks, and said:

"Why, mother, do you think I would ride on those cus.h.i.+ons? Now, let the sick slave get in, and I will take his place."

But the leader of the little procession was not agreeable. The boy could do as he liked, stay, or go with them.

"I shall stay," said Jesus, "and go to Pharaoh when I please." The litter returned empty to the palace.

The next day the boy made up his mind to go. His parents accompanied him through the palm-grove to the town. He walked between father and mother in his humble garb, and Joseph gave him good advice the while.

Mary was silent and invoked the heavenly powers to protect her child.

Only the boy was admitted through the gateway of the palace; father and mother remained behind and looked fearfully after their Jesus, who turned round to wave to them. His face was glad, and that comforted the mother. The father thought it incomprehensible that a child could so cheerfully and heedlessly part from the only creatures who cared for him; but he kept his thought to himself.

The boy felt curiosity, satisfaction, and repugnance all at the same time, when he gave himself into the hands of the servants, who led him to a refres.h.i.+ng bath, anointed him with sweet-smelling oil, and clad him in a silken garment. But he desired to learn what life in the royal palace was like. And gradually its splendour began to enfold him. The Arabian tales which his father loved to tell him contained marvels and splendours, but nothing to be compared with the magnificence and brilliance that now a.s.sailed his senses. Marble staircases as broad as streets, halls as lofty as temples, marble pillars, brilliantly painted domes. The sun came through the windows in every colour there is, and was reflected red, blue, green, and gold by the s.h.i.+ning walls. But more fairy-like were the nights, when thousands of lamps burned in the halls, a forest of candelabra shone like a conflagration kept within bounds; when the courtiers seemed to sink into the carpets and divans and silken and down coverlets; when the sweet-smelling incense rose from the golden censers and intoxicated the brain; when a hundred servants made ready the banquet of indescribable luxury, and carried it in silver dishes, alabaster bowls, and crystal goblets; when youths and maidens, with arms entwined, crowned each other with wreaths of roses; when the fanfares sounded, and the cymbals clashed, and song gushed from maidens' throats; and when at length Pharaoh entered in flowing purple robes adorned with a thousand sparkling diamond stars--on his head an indented coronet, s.h.i.+ning like carbuncle--the G.o.d! the sun-G.o.d! On all this our boy from the Nile hut looked as at something wonderful that had nothing to do with him. A fan of s.h.i.+mmering peac.o.c.ks' feathers was put into his hand. Other boys had similar fans, and with half-bared limbs stood close to the guests and fanned them into coolness. Young Jesus was to do that for Pharaoh, but he did not do it, and sat on the floor and never grew weary of looking at Pharaoh's pale face. The king answered his gaze kindly: "I think that is the proud youth from the Nile, who does not desire to sit at the feet of Pharaoh."

"He shall sit at the right hand of G.o.d," sang the choir. Slowly, with the air of an irritated lion, the king turned his head in order to see what stupid choirmaster mingled Hebrew verses with the hymn of Osiris.

Then ensued noise and confusion. The windows, behind which was the darkness, shone with a red light. The people had a.s.sembled before the palace with torches in order to do homage to Pharaoh, the son of Light.

The king looked annoyed. Such homage was repeated every new moon--he desired it, and yet it bored him. He beckoned to the cup-bearers, he wanted a goblet of wine. That brought the blood to his cheeks, and the light to his eyes. He joined in the hymn of praise to Osiris, and his whole form glowed with strength and gladness.

When the quiet night succeeded the luxurious day, so still was it that the lapping of the waves of the Nile might be heard. Jesus lay on a curtained couch of down, and could not sleep. How well he had slept in the hut by the Nile! He was hot and rose and looked out of the window.

The stars sparkled like tiny suns. He lay down again, prayed to his Father, and fell asleep. The next day, when the feast was over, he would find the rooms in which the old writings were kept, and the teachers who would instruct him. But it was not like the feast that comes to an end; it was repeated every day at the king's court.

It happened one night that the slaves stole around and woke each other.

Jesus became aware of the subdued noise and asked the cause. One approached him and whispered, "Pharaoh weeps!" Like a mysterious breath of wind it went through the palace, "Pharaoh weeps!" Then all was still again, and the dreaming night lay over everything.

Jesus did not lie down again on the soft cus.h.i.+ons, he rested on the cool floor and thought. The king weeps! Arabia and India, Greece and Rome have sent their costliest treasures to Memphis. Phoenician s.h.i.+ps cruise off the coasts of Gaul, Albion, and Germany in order to obtain treasure for the great Pharaoh. His people surround him day after day with homage, his life is at its prime. And he weeps? Was it not perhaps that he sobbed in his dreams, or it may be laughed? But the watchers think he weeps.

CHAPTER VII

And the days pa.s.sed by. As the king had said, the boy was free. But he stayed on at the palace because he hoped one day to find the room in which the ma.n.u.scripts were kept. He often strolled through the town and the palm-grove down to the river to see his parents. Thousands of slaves were working at the sluices of the stream which fertilised the land. The overseer scourged them l.u.s.tily, so that many of them fell down exhausted and even dying. Jesus looked on and denounced such barbarity, until he, too, received a blow. Then he went out to the Pyramids where the Pharaohs slept, and listened if they were not weeping. He went into the Temple of Osiris and looked at the monster idols, fat, soulless, ugly, between the rounded pillars. He searched the palace untiringly for the hall in which the writings were kept, and at last he came upon it. But it was closed: its custodians were hunting jackals and tigers in the desert. They found it dark and dreary there among the great minds of old; the splendour and luxury of the court did not penetrate to the hall of writings.

Then nights came again when whispers ran through the halls, "Pharaoh weeps." And the reason, too, was whispered. He had caused the woman he loved best to be strangled, and now the astrologers declared that she was innocent. One day the king lay on his couch and desired that the boy from the Nile should be summoned to fan him. As the king was sick, Jesus agreed to go. Pharaoh was ill-humoured and impatient, neither fan nor fanning was right, and when the boy left off that was not right either.

Then Jesus said suddenly: "Pharaoh, you are sick."

The king stared at him in astonishment. A page dare to open his mouth and speak to the Son of Light! When, however, he saw the sad, sincere expression of sympathy in the boy's countenance ho became calmer, and said; "Yes, my boy, I am sick."

"King," said Jesus, "I know what is the matter with you."

"You know!"

"You keep shadows within and light without. Reverse it."

Directly the boy had said that Pharaoh got up, thinner and taller than he usually appeared to be, and haughtily pointed to the door, an angry light in his eyes.

The boy went out quietly, and did not look back.

But his words were not forgotten. In the noise and tumult of the daytime Pharaoh did not hear them; in the night, when all the brilliance was extinguished and only the miserable and unhappy waked, he heard softly echoed from wall to wall of his chamber, "Reverse it!

Bring the light inside!"

Shortly before that time Jesus had discovered an aged scholar who dwelt outside the gate of Thebes, in a vaulted cave at the foot of the Pyramid. He would have nothing to do with any living thing except a goat of the desert which furnished him with milk. And as he kept always within the darkness of the vault, bending over endless hieroglyphics on half-decomposed slabs of stone, on excavated household vessels, and papyrus rolls, the goat likewise never saw the sun. Both were contented with the food brought them daily by an old fellah. The hermit was one who had surely reversed things--shadow without and light within. When Pharaoh dismissed Jesus, he sought the learned cave-dweller in order to find wisdom. At first the old man would not let him come in. What had young blood to do with wisdom?

"My son, first grow old, and then come and seek wisdom in the old writings."

The boy answered: "Do you give wisdom only for dying? I want it for living."

Then the old man let him in.