indeed some of us have lived too long on the Nile not to have imbibed a little of the constant, unchanging Egyptian temperament. You smile, and yet I feel sure that long as you have desired to revisit your dear Hellas, you will not be able to leave us quite without regret. Ah, you admit this? Well, I knew I had not been deceived. But now tell us why you are obliged to leave Egypt, that we may consider whether it may not be possible to get the king’s decree reversed, and so keep you with us.”
Phanes smiled bitterly, and replied: “Many thanks, Rhodopis, for these flattering words, and for the kind intention either to grieve over my departure, or if possible, to prevent it. A hundred new faces will soon help you to forget mine, for long as you have lived on the Nile, you are still a Greek from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot, and may thank the gods that you have remained so. I am a great friend of constancy too, but quite as great an enemy of folly, and is there one among you who would not call it folly to fret over what cannot be undone? I cannot call the Egyptian constancy a virtue, it is a delusion. The men who treasure their dead for thousands of years, and would rather lose their last loaf than allow a single bone belonging to one of their ancestors to be taken from them, are not constant, they are foolish. Can it possibly make me happy to see my friends sad? Certainly not! You must not imitate the Egyptians, who, when they lose a friend, spend months in daily-repeated lamentations over him. On the contrary, if you will sometimes think of the distant, I ought to say, of the departed, friend, (for as long as I live I shall never be permitted to tread Egyptian ground again), let it be with smiling faces; do not cry, ‘Ah! why was Phanes forced to leave us?’ but rather, ‘Let us be merry, as Phanes used to be when he made one of our circle!’ In this way you must celebrate my departure, as Simonides enjoined when he sang:
“If we would only be more truly wise,
We should not waste on death our tears and sighs,
Nor stand and mourn o’er cold and lifeless clay
More than one day.
For Death, alas! we have no lack of time;
But Life is gone, when scarcely at its prime,
And is e’en, when not overfill’d with care
But short and bare!”
“If we are not to weep for the dead, how much less ought we to grieve for absent friends! the former have left us for ever, but to the latter we say at parting, ‘Farewell, until we meet again’”
Here the Sybarite, who had been gradually becoming more and more impatient, could not keep silent any longer, and called out in the most woe begone tone: “Will you never begin your story, you malicious fellow? I cannot drink a single drop till you leave off talking about death. I feel cold already, and I am always ill, if I only think of, nay, if I only hear the subject mentioned, that this life cannot last forever.” The whole company burst into a laugh, and Phanes began to tell his story:
“You know that at Sais I always live in the new palace; but at Memphis, as commander of the Greek body-guard which must accompany the king everywhere, a lodging was assigned me in the left wing of the old palace.
“Since Psamtik the First, Sais has always been the royal residence, and the other palaces have in consequence become somewhat neglected. My dwelling was really splendidly situated, and beautifully furnished; it would have been first-rate, if, from the first moment of my entrance, a fearful annoyance had not made its appearance.
“In the day-time, when I was seldom at home, my rooms were all that could be wished, but at night it was impossible to sleep for the tremendous noise made by thousands of rats and mice under the old floors, and couches, and behind the hangings.
“Even in the first night an impudent mouse ran over my face.
“I was quite at a loss what to do, till an Egyptian soldier sold me two large cats, and these, in the course of many weeks, procured me some rest from my tormentors.
“Now, you are probably all aware that one of the charming laws of this most eccentric nation, (whose culture and wisdom, you, my Milesian friends, cannot sufficiently praise), declares the cat to be a sacred animal. Divine honors are paid to these fortunate quadrupeds as well as to many other animals, and he who kills a cat is punished with the same severity as the murderer of a human being.”
Till now Rhodopis had been smiling, but when she perceived that Phanes’ banishment had to do with his contempt for the sacred animals, her face became more serious. She knew how many victims, how many human lives, had already been sacrificed to this Egyptian superstition, and how, only a short time before, the king Amasis himself had endeavored in vain to rescue an unfortunate Samian, who had killed a cat, from the vengeance of the enraged populace.
[The cat was probably the most sacred of all the animals worshipped
by the Egyptians. Herod tells that when a house was on fire the
Egyptians never thought of extinguishing the fire until their cats
were all saved, and that when a cat died, they shaved their heads in
sign of mourning. Whoever killed one of these animals, whether
intentionally or by accident, suffered the penalty, of death,
without any chance of mercy. Diod. (I. 81.) himself witnessed the
murder of a Roman citizen who had killed a cat, by the Egyptian
people; and this in spite of the authorities, who in fear of the
powerful Romans, endeavored to prevent the deed. The bodies of the
cats were carefully embalmed and buried, and their mummies are to be
found in every museum. The embalmed cat, carefully wrapped in linen
bandages, is oftener to be met with than any other of the many
animals thus preserved by the Egyptians. In spite of the great care
bestowed on cats, there can have been no lack of mice in Egypt. In
one nomos or province the shrew-mouse was sacred, and a satirical,
obscene papyrus in Turin shows us a war between the cats and mice;
the Papyrus Ebers contains poisons for mice. We ourselves possess a
shrew-mouse exquisitely wrought in bronze.]
“Everything was going well,” continued the officer, “when we left Memphis two years ago.
“I confided my pair of cats to the care of one of the Egyptian servants at the palace, feeling sure that these enemies of the rats would keep my dwelling clear for the future; indeed I began to feel a certain veneration for my deliverers from the plague of mice.
“Last year Amasis fell ill before the court could adjourn to Memphis, and we remained at Sais.
“At last, about six week ago, we set out for the city of the Pyramids. I betook me to my old quarters; not the shadow of a mouse’s tail was to be seen there, but instead, they swarmed with another race of animals not one whit dearer to me than their predecessors. The pair of cats had, during my two years’ absence, increased twelve-fold. I tried all in my power to dislodge this burdensome brood of all ages and colors, but in vain; every night my sleep was disturbed by horrible choruses of four-footed animals, and feline
