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Updated: June 4, 2025
Bent-Anat's brother, Rameses' son, Rameri, had experienced the same treatment as his fellows, whom yesterday he had led into every sort of mischief, with even more audacity than usual, but to-day he hung his head. In a corner of the court sat Anana, Pentaur's favorite scholar, hiding his face in his hands which rested on his knees.
"Pentaur came in with Nebsecht," he exclaimed, "and they are intimate friends. Where was the leech while I was staying in Thebes?" "He was taking care of the child hurt by Bent-Anat the child of the paraschites Pinem, and he stayed there three days," replied Gagabu. "And it was Pinem," said Ameni, "that opened the body of Rui! Now I know who has dimmed Pentaur's faith.
His prayers, however, had no power to touch Nebsecht, who only strove forcibly to disengage his finger from Pentaur's strong hand, which held him as in a clasp of iron. The excited poet did not remark that he was hurting his friend, until after a new and vain attempt at freeing himself, Nebsecht cried out in pain, "You are crushing my finger!"
A few hours later Ameni sent to invite the Regent to breakfast. "Do you know who the witch Hekt is?" asked Ani. "Certainly how should I not know? She is the singer Beki the former enchantress of Thebes. May I ask what her communications were?" Ani thought it best not to confide the secret of Pentaur's birth to the high-priest, and answered evasively.
It will not make your house rich but it will your heart!" Scherau clung to the priest, and involuntarily raised his little hand to stroke Pentaur's cheek. An unknown tenderness had filled his little heart, and he felt as if he must throw his arms round the poet's neck and cry upon his breast. But Pentaur set him down on the ground, and he trotted down into the valley. There he paused.
In a corner of this room lay a mat, on which stood a wooden head-prop, indicating that the naturalist was in the habit of sleeping on it. When Pentaur's step was heard on the threshold of this strange abode, its owner pushed a rather large object under the table, threw a cover over it, and hid a sharp flint scalpel
Grandfather brought the earth here from the Nile, Pentaur's father gave me the seeds, and each little plant that ventured to show a green shoot through the soil I sheltered and nursed and watered, though I had to fetch the water in my little pitcher, till it was vigorous, and thanked me with flowers. Take this pomegranate flower.
Pentaur stood still, astounded and incapable of speech, till he perceived a young man, who crept up to him on his hands and feet, which were bound with thongs, and who cried to him in a tone, in which terror was mingled with a tenderness which touched Pentaur's very soul. "Save me Spirit of the Mohar! save me, father!" Then the poet spoke. "I am no spirit of the dead," said he.
Pentaur's glance flew round the one low, over-filled room of the paraschites' hut, and like a lightning flash the thought, "How will the princess and her train find room here?" flew through his mind.
None of Pentaur's men, except his red-bearded friend, was more to him than a mere hired servant, and he usually preferred to ride alone, apart from the little troop, musing on the past seldom on the future and generally observing all that lay on his way with a keen eye. They soon reached Lebanon; between it and and Lebanon a road led through the great Syrian valley.
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