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Updated: July 13, 2025
It was these recollections of my childhood that suggested to me the character of little Pennu in Uarda, of Polykarp in Homo Sum, of Pollux in The Emperor, and the cheery Alexander in Per Aspera. I often visited also, during my last years in Berlin, the studio of another sculptor. His name was Streichenberg, and his workshop was in our garden in the Linkstrasse.
Then he told Mena that it was now twenty years since his son-in-law had been killed, and his daughter Xanthe, whom Uarda exactly resembled, had been carried into captivity. Praxilla was then only just born, and his wife died of the shock of such terrible news.
Nebsecht nodded assentingly. "Well then," cried Pentaur, "follow your new and godlike emotion, be good to Uarda and do not sacrifice her to your vain wishes. My poor friend! With your enquiries into the secrets of life, you have never looked round upon itself, which spreads open and inviting before our eyes.
Scherau went up to the sick girl, knelt down by her, and whispered with streaming eyes: "Take it! It is good, and very sweet, and if I get another cake, and Hekt will let me out, I will bring it to you. "Thank you, good little Scherau," said Uarda, kissing the child.
Before Uarda left the Egyptian camp, Pentaur came to entreat her to afford her dying preserver Nebsecht the last happiness of seeing her once more; Uarda acceded with a blush, and the poet, who had watched all night by his friend, went forward to prepare him for her visit.
When we were alone, I wept like a child for joy at her escape, and she let me kiss her, and then she became my wife, three years after I had bought her. "She bore me a little maid, that she herself named Uarda; for she showed us a rose, and then pointed to the child, and we understood her without words. "Soon afterwards she died.
Now I shall see what the good woman will offer me if I take Uarda to her? the girl is as light-footed as a gazelle, and with good training would learn to dance in a very few weeks." Nemu turned perfectly white. "That you shall not do," said he positively. "And why not?" asked the old woman, "if it pays well." "Because I forbid it," said the dwarf in a choked voice.
I thought of my grandmother, of my father, of little Scherau, of the Gods, and of Pentaur. Now I should like to give you a part of it too." "Only a part?" asked Rameri. "Well, the whole will be reflected in you, you know," said Uarda, "as the whole moon is reflected in each drop."
"I am not come to visit her," retorted the prince, "but you only; and you do not belong to them, of that I am convinced. No roses grow in the desert." "And yet: am my father's child," said Uarda decidedly, "and my poor dead grandfather's grandchild. Certainly I belong to them, and those that do not think me good enough for them may keep away."
Rameri at once freed the little prisoner, and heard from him that it was old Hekt who, before her death, had sent Kaschta and his daughter to the rescue of the king, that he himself had helped to rouse the troops, that now he had no home and wished to go to Uarda.
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