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Gaddis: Starting Out with Java: From Control Structures through Data Structures, 3/e 1
Starting Out with Java - From Control Structures through Data Structures
Answers to Review Questions
Chapter 9
1. c
2. b
3. a
4. a
5. a
6. c
7. b
8. a
9. d
10. b
11. a
12. c
13. d
14. a
15. False
16. True
17. False
18. True
19. True
20. False
21. True
22. False
23. False
screen, a loop should be used to process each element in the array, so the
statement should read:
for (String s : tokens)
System.out.println(s)
Algorithm Workbench
1. if (Character.toUpperCase(choice) == 'Y')
Or
if (Character.toLowerCase(choice) == 'y')
2. int total = 0;
for (int i = 0; i < str.length(); i++)
{
if (str.charAt(i) == ' ')
total++;
}
3. int total = 0;
for (int i = 0; i < str.length(); i++)
{
if (Character.isDigit(str.charAt(i)))
total++;
}
4. int total = 0;
for (int i = 0; i < str.length(); i++)
{
if (Character.isLowerCase(str.charAt(i)))
total++;
}
if (str2.endsWith(".com"))
status = true;
else
status = false;
return status;
}
9. if (d <= Integer.MAX_VALUE)
i = (int) d;
10. System.out.println(Integer.toBinaryString(i));
System.out.println(Integer.toHexString(i));
System.out.println(Integer.toOctalString(i));
Short Answer
1. This will improve the program’s efficiency by reducing the number of String
objects that must be created and then removed by the garbage collector.
2. When you are tokenizing a string that was entered by the user, and you are using
characters other than whitespaces as delimiters, you will probably want to trim the
string before tokenizing it. Otherwise, if the user enters leading whitespace
characters, they will become part of the first token. Likewise, if the user enters
trailing whitespace characters, they will become part of the last token.
3. Converts a number to a string.
4. Each of the numeric wrapper classes has final static fields named MAX_VALUE
and MIN_VALUE. These fields hold the maximum and minimum values for the
data type.
Kallikrates did not die. Under the care of that cunning leech or
of something above the leech, Death was cheated of him, since it
seemed that the knife-thrust had not reached his vitals, or at least
had not pierced them beyond repair. Still he was sick for a long
while, for his whole body was drained of blood, so that had he been
older, or less vigorous, Osiris would have taken him. Or perchance
not in vain had I set upon his finger that scarab-talisman once
charmed by Khæmuas. I visited him no more, and thus it was not
until we were passing up the Nile and drew near to Memphis that I
saw him again. Then, very pale and wasted, yet to my fancy more
pleasing than he had been, since now his face had grown spiritual
and his eyes were those of one that had looked close into those of
Death, he was carried in a bed on to the deck. There I spoke with
him, thanking him in the name of our goddess for the great deeds
that he had done. He smiled and his white face took a little tinge of
red as he answered,
“I fear me, O Mouth-of-Isis, that it was not of the goddess that I
thought in that fray, but rather of the joy of battle which I, a priest,
had never hoped to feel again. Nay, nor was it for the goddess that I
smote as best I could, since in the extremities of war the gates of
heaven, which are then in truth so near, seem very far away, but
rather that after all which you had passed, you, with the rest of us,
might not fall into the hands of the heathen fire-worshippers.”
Now I smiled back, for the words, if false, were courteous, and
replied that doubtless also he, who was still young, desired to go on
living.
“Nay,” he answered earnestly, “I think that I desire to die rather
than to live, and to pass hence as often my forefathers have done,
sword in hand and helm on head. Life is no boon to a shaven priest,
Lady, one who by his vows is cut off from all its joys.”
“What is a man’s joy in life?” I asked.
“Look at yourself in a mirror, Lady, and you will learn,” he
answered, and there was that in his voice which caused me to
wonder whether it was possible after all that the wrong name came
from his lips in the wanderings of his mind.
For then I did not know that a man may love two women and at
the same time; one with his spirit and the other with his flesh, since
through all things runs this war between the spirit and the flesh. The
spirit of Kallikrates was always mine, having been given to me from
the beginning, but with his flesh it was otherwise, and perchance
while he is in the flesh it will so remain.
Before we reached Memphis a signal was made for us to anchor.
Then a barge, flying the standard of Pharaoh, came off to us from
the shore. On board of it was Nectanebes himself and with him his
daughter, the Princess of Egypt, the lady Amenartas; also certain
councillors and Grecian captains in his service.
The Pharaoh and the others came aboard to learn tidings of
what had chanced at Sidon, and were received by Philo and by Noot.
Presently they demanded to be led to me and I met them on the
deck outside my cabin, noting that the eyes of Nectanebes were
troubled and that his fat cheeks had fallen in.
“So you are returned to us, Oracle-of-Isis,” he said in a
hesitating voice, scanning my form, for my face he could not see
because it was veiled.
“I am returned, O Pharaoh,” I answered, bowing before his
Majesty. “It has pleased Her whom I serve to deliver me out of the
hands of King Tenes of Sidon, to whom Pharaoh offered me as a
gift.”
“Aye, I remember. It was at that feast when the water in the
cup you held turned to blood. Well, if all I hear is true, there has
been blood enough out yonder.”
“Yes, Pharaoh, the Sidonian seas run red with it. Tenes, Egypt’s
ally, surrendered the city to Ochus the Persian, thinking to find great
advancement, which he won by death, whereon the Sidonians
burned themselves in their houses with their wives and children. So
it comes about that all Phœnicia is in the hands of Ochus who
advances upon Egypt with a mighty host.”
“The gods have deserted me!” moaned Nectanebes, waving his
arms.
“Aye, Pharaoh,” I answered in a cold voice, “for the gods are
very jealous and seldom forgive those who forsake them and betray
their servants into the hands of enemies that hate them.”
He understood and answered in a low, babbling voice,
“Be not angry with me, Oracle-of-Isis, for what else could I do?
That Sidonian dog, whom may Set devour eternally, was mad for
you. Always I mistrusted him and I was sure that if I refused you to
him, he would make his peace with Ochus and bite me in the back,
as indeed he threatened at the feast. Also I knew well that Mother
Isis would protect you from all harm at his hands, which it seems
that she has done.”
Now when I heard these words rage filled me and I answered,
“Aye, Pharaoh, Mother Isis has done this and more. Have you
heard how your poison worked? Nay? Then I will tell you. Having
sacrificed her only son to Dagon, Tenes would have put away Beltis,
his queen, to give her place to me. Mad with hate, Beltis led him into
the arms of the Persian and afterward when his treachery was
accomplished, slew him with her own hand, for I saw the deed. And
now, Pharaoh, Sidon has fallen and with it all Phœnicia, and soon,
Pharaoh, Egypt will follow Sidon. Aye, I, the Oracle, tell you that
because you were pleased to throw the high-priestess of Isis into the
arms of Tenes as though she were some singing woman of whom
you had wearied, these things have come about. Therefore too soon
there will no longer be a Pharaoh in Egypt and the Persian will take
the Land of Nile and defile the altars of its gods.”
He heard. He trembled. He had naught to say. But there was
another who heard also. As I had noted, the Princess Amenartas,
when she came on to the ship, went straight to where Kallikrates lay
upon a couch beneath an awning on the deck, and there talked with
him earnestly. What they said I could not hear for they spoke
together beneath their breath. But their faces I could see, and
watching them I grew sure that the Greek had made no error of a
mind distraught when he spoke this royal lady’s name as I tended
his wounds. For those faces were the faces of lovers who met after
long separation and the passing of great dangers.
Leaving Kallikrates this Amenartas had returned to her father
and stood at his side listening to our talk. Now she broke in fiercely,
“Surely, Priestess, you were ever a bird of evil omen croaking of
disaster. You fly to Sidon and lo! Sidon burns, yet you escape with
wings unscorched. Now you flit back to Egypt and again wail of woe
like a night owl of the desert. How is it, O Isis-come-to-Earth, as it
pleases you to call yourself, that you alone escape from Sidon and
return here to curdle the blood of men with prophecies such as
those you uttered at the feast when by a trick you turned the water
into blood? Have you perchance made friends with Ochus?”
“Ask it of Philo the captain of this ship, Lady,” I answered in a
quiet voice. “Or stay. Ask it of yonder priest which perchance will
please you better, the Grecian who in the world was named
Kallikrates. Ask them how I showed friendship to Ochus by so
working through the strength of Isis and their skill and valour that
the Persian’s finest ship of war with a multitude of his sailors and
fighting men lies to-day at the bottom of the deep.”
“Perchance because a captain was skilled and a certain priest,
or soldier, was brave, that ship is sunk with all she bore, but not, I
think, through you or your prayers, O Oracle. I say to you, Pharaoh,
my father, that if I held your sceptre I would send this Isis-come-to-
Earth to seek Isis in Heaven ere she bring more sorrows on us and
Egypt.”
“Nay, nay,” muttered Nectanebes, rolling his big eyes, “speak
not so madly, Daughter, lest the Mother should hear and once more
smite me. Hearken. Last night I, who have skill, consulted my spirit,
the Dæmon who obeys me. He came, he spoke. I heard him with
my ears. Yes, he spoke of this prophetess. He said that she drew
near to Memphis on a ship. He said that she was great, almost a
goddess, that she must be cherished, that to you and me she would
be a shelter from the storm, that in her is the power of One who sits
above. O Oracle, O Isis-come-to-Earth, O Wisdom’s Daughter, forgive
the wild words of this royal child of mine who is distraught with fear,
and know that, to the last, Pharaoh is your friend and your
protector.”
“As mayhap, if this Dæmon of yours speaks truth, before all is
done I shall be the protector of Pharaoh and of the Princess of Egypt
whom it pleases to revile me,” I replied.
Then bowing to him I turned and sought my cabin.
CHAPTER XIII
The Shame of Pharaoh
When Pharaoh and his daughter had gone, though I did not see
them go, I bade farewell to Philo, thanking him much and, in reward
for all he had done, calling down on him the blessing of the goddess
which he received upon his bended knees. Moreover, when he had
risen from them he swore himself to my service, saying that while he
lived he would come even from the ends of the earth to do my will.
Also he showed me how I might call him by certain secret ways.
So we bade farewell for a while, nor did I let him go empty-
handed, since from those jewels that Tenes had heaped upon me,
which almost by accident I had preserved in my flight, I took certain
of great value and gave them to him as a gift from the goddess.
Thus we parted though, as both of us were sure, not for the last
time.
So soon as our coming was known the priests and priestesses of
Isis flocked to the quay in solemn procession to receive Noot, their
high-priest, and me their high-priestess, which they did with sacred
ceremony and holy chants. By them we were escorted through the
streets of Memphis to the temple of Isis accompanied by many of
the crew of the Hapi that were of our brotherhood. Among them I
missed one.
“Where is the priest Kallikrates?” I asked of Noot.
He smiled and answered,
“I think that he has been taken to the palace of Pharaoh to be
nursed until he recovers from his wounds. Perchance for a while he
is minded, or it is decreed that he should continue to play a warrior’s
part. Yet fear not, Daughter; those upon whose brow Isis has laid
her hands, in life or death must return to her at last. They are hawks
upon a string which, though it stretches, cannot be broken.”
“Aye,” I answered, “in life or death,” and asked no more of this
Kallikrates.
In the midst of the rejoicings of the city at our safe return, we
came to the temple and made sacrifice. There it was that I set the
jewels of Tenes, all save those that I had given to Philo, upon the
alabaster statue of the goddess in her inmost shrine that only I and
Noot might enter, and there too by signs and wonders she signified
to me her acceptance of the offering. For here while we stood alone
before the effigy of the goddess in that holy place, a trance fell upon
Noot and in his trance he spoke to me with the voice of Isis and out
of her infinite heart. This was the divine message that came to me
through the lips of Noot:
“Daughter, I, thy mother, know of all that thou hast passed and
of all that thou must pass. Though the barbarian come and the gods
of Egypt are thrown down and ruin smites the land and thou
seemest to be left alone, abide thou here till my word bids thee to
depart. By myself and That of which under the name of Isis I am a
minister, I swear that no harm shall befall thee or that place where
thou art, or those of my servants who remain with thee. Therefore
await my commands with patience, doing such things as I inspire
thee to do, that thou mayest bring the vengeance of the gods upon
those dogs who desecrate their shrines.”
Thus spoke Noot in his trance, not knowing what he had said
until I told him afterward. He listened earnestly and bade me obey.
“Even if I be taken from you for a while, as it comes to me will
happen—perchance I learned it in my swoon, Daughter—and you
are left unfriended and alone, still I pray you to obey. If so, think not
that I am dead, who do but return to my own place and land, but
wait until my message comes. Then obey that also though I know
not what it will be.”
Thus he spoke solemnly and I bowed my head and hid his
words within my heart——
The war began, Egypt’s last war for life. Nectanebes the
Pharaoh, inspired by his evil Dæmon, thrust aside his captains and
declared himself General in Chief of his armies, he who had scarce
the wit or the courage to command the guard of a harem. At first
that Dæmon served him well, since at Barathra, as the gulfs are
named which make the Sirbonian bog, the Persians were trapped
and lost many thousands of their men who sank through the sand
into the marshes and there were drowned or speared. But their
numbers were uncountable and the rest came on. Pelusium was
besieged and for a while held its own against the giant Nicostratus
of Argos, a man as strong as Hercules who, like Hercules, clothed
himself in a lion’s skin and for a weapon bore a great club. The
Grecian captain, Kleinios of Cos, he who had been present at the
feast when I was given over to Tenes and whom in my vision at that
feast I had seen dead, lying upon a heap of slain, attacked
Nicostratus and after a mighty fight was defeated, Kleinios and five
thousand men of those who were with him being slain. Thus was my
vision fulfilled.
Then his Dæmon departed from Nectanebes taking his heart
with him, for of a sudden Pharaoh ceased to be a man and,
becoming a coward, fled back to Memphis, leaving his fleet, his
cities, and their garrisons to their fate.
Rumour ran fast; it told of the fall of city after city, some
stormed, some bribed to surrender; it told that Ochus had sworn to
burn Memphis and after it Thebes; also to seize Nectanebes and
roast him living upon the altar in the great temple of Ptah here at
Memphis, or otherwise to make him fight with the bull Apis after the
beast had been driven mad by fiery darts. It told that the Egyptians,
enraged at the desertion of their armies by Pharaoh, would
themselves seize him and give him up to Ochus as a peace-offering.
Crowds gathered and rushed through the streets of Memphis calling
imprecations on his name, or clustered like bees round the altars of
the gods, praying for help in their despair, yes, round the neglected
altars of the gods of Egypt.
Then of a sudden came Amenartas, flying to the temple of Isis
for sanctuary, since it was reported that Ochus had said that the
shrines of Isis he would spare alone, because she was the Mother of
all things and her throne was in the moon and her husband was
Osiris-Ra who was the Father of fire which he worshipped; also
because a certain priestess of the goddess had done him great
service in the war, words that caused me to wonder.
So this royal princess came and put on the veil of a novice that
it might protect her should Ochus take the city. But though this veil
changed her face and form to the eyes of men, her heart it did not
change.
A little later came Kallikrates from the war in the Delta where I
learned he had done great things, fighting bravely. Indeed he told
me himself that he had fought the giant Nicostratus in single combat
and wounded him, though the matter was not pressed to an end,
since others rushed up and separated them. He said that he was a
very terrible man and that when that huge club of his wavered
above him, for the first time in his life he felt afraid. Notwithstanding
he ran in beneath the club and stabbed Nicostratus in the shoulder.
Thus it happened that all being lost in war and his service at an
end, Kallikrates the captain once more became Kallikrates the priest
and again put on the robes of Isis. Therefore in that temple, serving
together before its altars were Amenartas, Princess of Egypt, and
Kallikrates, priest of Isis.
Often I, Ayesha, seated in my chair of state as first of that holy
company, save the aged Noot alone, watched them from beneath
my veil while they anointed the statue of the goddess or joined in
the sacred chants and hymns of praise. As I watched I noted this—
that always they drew near together as though some strength
compelled them; that always their glances thrown from the corners
of their eyes, met and turned away and met again, and that always,
if occasion served, the robe of the one brushed the robe of the
other, or the hand of the one touched the hand of the other. These
things I noted in silence, wondering what judgment the goddess
would call down upon this beauteous pair who dared thus to violate
her sanctuary with their earthly passion. Oh! much I wondered,
though little did I guess what it would be and by whose hand it was
destined to fall upon them.
Lastly came Nectanebes himself, his great eyes full of terror and
his fat frame wasted with woe and sleeplessness. He sought
audience of me.
“O Prophetess,” he said, “all is lost! Ochus Artaxerxes has his
foot upon my neck. I fly, seeking shelter beneath the wings of Isis,
seeking shelter from you, O Isis-come-to-earth. Help me, Daughter
divine, for my Dæmon has deserted me, or if he comes at all it is but
to jibber and to mock.”
“Strange words from Pharaoh,” I answered in a voice of scorn,
“very strange words from Pharaoh who gave this same prophetess to
be the woman of a vile, Baal-serving king; from Pharaoh who has
deserted his army, his country, and his gods, and now seeks only to
save his treasure and his life.”
“Reproach me not,” he moaned, “Fate has been too strong for
me, as perchance one day it may be too strong for you also. At first
all went well. In the bygone years I conquered the Persian; I built
temples to the gods. Then of a sudden Fortune hid her face and now
—and now!”
“Aye, O fallen Pharaoh,” I answered, “and why did Fortune hide
her face? I will tell it, to whom it has been revealed. It was because
although you built temples to the gods, you were false to the gods.
In secret, following the counsel of that Dæmon of yours, you made
bloody sacrifice to devils, to Baal, to Ashtoreth, and to Aphrodite of
the Greeks. Nay, do not start and deny, for I know all. Lastly, to
crown your crimes, you gave me, the high-prophetess of Isis, to the
base, red-handed Tenes, one who offered his own son to idols. What
has chanced to Tenes who took me, and say, what shall chance to
him who sold me, O Nectanebes no more a Pharaoh?”
Now I thought that surely he would kill me and cared not if he
did. For my heart was sore—oh! because of many things my heart
was sore. But like a beaten cur he only cowered at my feet, praying
me to pardon him, praying me to cease from beating him with my
tongue, praying me to counsel him. I listened and pity took hold of
me, who was ever tender-minded though a lover of justice and a
hater of traitors.
“Hearken,” I said at last. “If Ochus finds you here, O fallen
Pharaoh, first he will make a mock of you and then he will torture
you to death. I have heard what he will do. He will bring you to his
judgment seat and lay you bound upon your back and grind his
sandals upon your face. Then he will force you to sacrifice to the fire
that he worships and one by one to spit upon the effigies of the
gods of Egypt. Lastly, either he will cause the holy bull Apis to gore
you to death, or he will bind you upon the altar in the temple of Ptah
and there slowly with torments bring you to your end.”
Now when Nectanebes heard these things, he wept and I
thought that he would swoon away.
“Hearken,” I said again, “I will show you a road whereby
although defeated and disgraced you may yet win glory that shall be
told of from age to age. Summon the people while there is yet time.
Go to the temple of Ammon, King of the gods of Egypt. Stand before
the shrine of Ammon and make confession of your sins in the ears of
all. Then, there in the sight of all, slay yourself, praying Ammon and
all the gods to accept your life as an offering and to spare Egypt and
the people upon whose head you, the hated of the gods, have
brought all these woes. So can you cause the Persian and the world
to marvel and say that though accursed, still you were great, and so
perchance you shall turn away the wrath of heaven from apostate
Egypt.”
A flash of pride shone in his eyes that had been empty of light
and filled with tears. He lifted his head stiffly as though still it felt
the weight of the great earrings of state, the golden uræus, and the
double crown. For a moment he looked as once he had done at Sais
reviewing his triumphant army after his first victory over the Persians
and drinking in the incense of its shouts, yes, he looked as great
Thotmes and the proud Rameses might have done in their day, a
Pharaoh, the king of all the world he knew.
“It would be well to die thus,” he murmured, “it would be very
well, and then, perhaps, the gods I have betrayed would forgive me,
the old, old gods to whom thirty dynasties of recorded kings have
bowed the knee, and those who went before them for unnumbered
generations. Yes, then perhaps that great company of Pharaohs
would not turn their backs on me or spit at me when I join them at
the table of Osiris. But, Prophetess”—here his face fell in again and
his crab-like eyes projected and rolled, while his voice sank to a
whisper, “Prophetess, I dare not.”
“Why, Nectanebes?”
“Because—oh! because years ago I struck a bargain with a
certain Power of the Under-world, a dæmon if you will, at least some
spirit of evil that comes I know not whence and dwells I know not
where, which became manifest to me. It promised me glory and
success if I would sacrifice to it—nay, I will not tell what I sacrificed,
but once I had a son, yes, like Tenes I had a son——”
Here I, Ayesha, shivered, then motioned to him to speak on.
“This was the bargain, that though to please the people I might
build temples to the gods, by certain means I must defile them in
their shrines. Aye, and I did defile them, and when the priest
dressed me, the Pharaoh, in the trappings of those gods according
to custom, by thought and word and deed I blasphemed them. Yet
one divinity remained outside the pact because my Dæmon warned
me that she was too strong for him and must not be offended,” and
he paused.
“Was she perchance named Isis?” I asked.
“Aye, Prophetess, she was named Isis and therefore I never
polluted her shrine and therefore to her alone in my heart I offered
prayer. So all went well and I gathered great armies and vast wealth,
I hired Greeks by thousands to fight for me, I made alliances with
many kings and was sure that again I should defeat the Persians and
be the master of the world. Then came the evil hour of that
accursed feast at which you, the Mouth of Isis, were summoned to
prophesy and, moved by some madness, you unveiled your beauty
before Tenes, and I, forgetting whose minister you were, gave you
to Tenes, thereby outraging Isis in your person.”
“Did I not warn you, Nectanebes, and did not the holy Noot
warn you?”
“Aye, you warned me, but in my need I took the risk, or I
forgot. From that moment all went ill and ruin, like a giant before
whom none may stand, has hunted me by night and day.”
“Yes, Nectanebes, and Isis is the name of that giant.”
“I made error upon error,” he went on. “I trusted to Tenes and
Tenes betrayed me. My Dæmon counselled me to thrust aside the
Grecian generals and take command of the armies, and at first there
was victory, then came defeat. It might have been retrieved, but of a
sudden my courage failed me. It fell like a temple of which the
foundations have been washed out by hidden waters. It crashed
down; in a moment its proud pylons, its tall columns, its massive,
honourable walls blazoned with the records of glorious deeds, fell to
a shapeless heap hidden in the dust of shame. I am undone. I am
what you see, a loathsome worm, a wounded worm wriggling in the
black slime of despair, I who was Pharaoh.”
Again pity touched me, Ayesha, and I answered,
“There still remains the road that I have pointed out. While we
live, however black our record, repentance is always possible, since
otherwise there would be no hope for man the sinner. Moreover,
repentance, if it be true, brings amendment in its train, and this god-
born pair struggling upward, hand in hand, over cruel rocks, through
swamps and streams, through brakes and briars, blinded with tears
and the gross darkness of despair, at length see the sweet shape of
Forgiveness shining before them like a holy dawn such as never
gleams upon this world. Hearken, therefore, to one who speaks not
with her own voice, or out of the foolishness of her own weak flesh,
but as she is commanded of a spirit that is within her. Go to the
temple of Ammon and there in the presence of the people make
confession of your sins and fall, a sacrifice, upon your sword. Self-
murder is a sin, but occasions come when to live on is a greater sin,
since it is better to die for others than to cherish breath that poisons
them.”
“To die! There you speak it, Prophetess. I say again that I dare
not die. When I die I pass to the Dæmon. This was the pact: that for
my life he should give me success and glory and that in return after
death, I should surrender him my soul.”
“Is it so?” I answered. “Well, the bargain is ancient, as old as
the world, I think; one also that every human being in his degree
seals or refuses to seal in this way or in that. Still my counsel holds.
This Dæmon of yours has broken his oath, for where now are the
success and glory, Nectanebes? Therefore he cannot claim the
fulfilment of your own.”
“Nay, Prophetess,” he answered in a wailing voice, “he has not
broken it. From the first he told me that I must work no harm to Isis
the Mother, since the Queen of Heaven was more powerful than all
the denizens of hell, and that if once it were spoken, her Word of
Strength would pierce and shrivel him like a red-hot sword and
cutting his web of spells, would bring his oaths to nothingness and
me with them. And now the web is cut, and I the painted insect that
it meshed, fall from it to where the hell-born spider sits in his hole.
Prophetess, I have seen him with these eyes, I have seen his orbs of
fire, I have seen his snout and fangs like to those of a crocodile, I
have seen his great hairy arms and the searching talons stretched
out to grip me, and I tell you that I dare not die to be cast into the
jaws of the Devourer and burn eternally in his belly of flames. Show
me how to save my life, so that I may continue to look upon the
sun. Oh! because you are a tender woman and charitable, though I
have sinned against you, show me how to save my life.”
Now hearing this creature plead with me thus, this coward who
at the last did not dare go face the indignant gods like a man,
saying, as a great soul should, “I have deeply erred, O ye Gods; I
repent, pardon me of your nobility, or slay my soul and make an
end,” my pity left me and its place was filled with scorn and loathing.
“Those who would live when the Persian dogs are on their
heels, must fly fast and far, Nectanebes; they must fly like the deer
of the desert on whom the hunters close. The road up Nile is empty,
Nectanebes; as yet there are no Persians there. As you would not
die, take it and live.”
“Aye,” he said as the thought went home, “why not? I have still
a vast treasure; for many years I have hoarded against misfortune,
for who can put all his trust in any Dæmon? With it I can buy friends
in the south; with it I may found another empire among the
Ethiopians or those of Punt. Why should I not fly, Prophetess?”
“I know not,” I answered, “save that Death is always fast and
untiring and in the end wears down the swiftest runner.”
This I said darkly for at that moment there came into my mind a
vision that once I had seen of a certain servile slave, aforetime a
Pharaoh, that same royal slave who grovelled before me; yea, a
vision of him throttling in a rope while black men mocked him. Yet of
that I said nothing, only added,
“If it should please you to go south, Nectanebes, would it please
you also to take with you that royal and beautiful lady, Amenartas
your daughter, aforetime Princess of Egypt?”
“Nay,” he answered sharply, “since hour by hour she scourges
me with her tongue because I am fallen. Let her abide here under
the veil of Isis. Yet why do you ask this, Prophetess?”
“Because of Isis. Because, as I think, this lady of the royal blood
makes play with a certain priest who is sworn to Isis, and the
goddess does not love that her vowed servitors should desert her for
the sake of mortal woman.”
“What priest?” he asked dully.
“A Greek who is named Kallikrates.”
“I know him, Prophetess. A very beauteous man, like to their
own Apollo; a brave one too who did good service yonder in the
marshes, fighting the giant general whom he wounded. Also I
remember that in the past he was a captain of my guard before he
became a priest and that there was trouble concerning him, though
what trouble I forget, save that Amenartas pleaded for him. Well, if
he has offended you, there are still those who do my will. Send for
him, and if it pleases you, he shall be killed. I give you his life. Yes,
his blood shall flow at your feet. Indeed I will command it at once,
since you tell me he has shamed the goddess or angered you, her
priestess,” and he opened his hands to clap them, summoning the
messengers of death.
I saw, I thrust my arm between so that they struck not upon
each other, but upon my soft flesh, making no sound.
“Nay,” I said, “this warrior-priest is a good servant of the Queen
Isis, one, moreover, who fought for me, her prophetess, upon the
seas. He shall not die for so small a matter. Yet I pray you,
Nectanebes, take with you the royal princess Amenartas, when you
fly south with your treasure.”
“Aye,” he answered wearily, “as it is your desire I’ll take her if
she will come, though if so there will be small rest for me.”
Then he went, bowing to me humbly, and this was my farewell
to Nectanebes, the last Pharaoh of Egypt. I watched him go and
wondered whether I had done well in forbidding him to kill
Kallikrates. It came into my mind that the death of this man would
save me much trouble. Why should he not die as others did who had
sinned against the goddess? An answer rose within me. It was that
he had sinned, not only against the goddess, but also against me—
and this by preferring another woman before me.
Was I then so feeble that I could not hold my own against
another woman should I choose to do so? Nay. Yet my trouble was
that I did not choose.
Now I saw the truth. My rebellious flesh desired that which my
spirit rejected. My spirit was far from this man, yet my flesh would
have him near. Aye, my flesh said: “Let him be slain rather than
another should take him,” while my spirit answered, “What has he to
do with one whose soul is set upon things above? Let him go his
way, and go you yours. Above all, be not stained with his blood.”
So I let him go, not knowing that it was written in the books of
Fate that I must be stained with his blood, steeped in it to the eyes.
Aye, I saved him from the sword of Nectanebes and let him go,
determining to think of him no more.
Yet as it chanced Fate played me an evil trick in this matter. On
the morrow, or the next day, I sat in the gloom of the outer
sanctuary praying to the goddess to ease me of my sore heart, for
alas! strive as I would to hide it, that heart was sore. There came a
white-robed priest, Kallikrates himself, but changed indeed from that
glorious Grecian warrior who had beat back the boarders on the
Hapi, or who had fought in single combat with the giant Nicostratus.
For now the little golden curls were shaven from his head and he
was pale with the thin diet of the fruits of the earth and pure water
which alone might pass the lips of those who were sworn to Isis,
enough indeed for me who touched no other food, or such a one as
the aged Noot, but not for a great-framed man bred to the trade of
arms. Moreover, his face was troubled as though with some struggle
of the soul.
He passed me unseen and going to the statue of the goddess,
knelt down before it and prayed earnestly, perhaps for help and
blessing. Rising at length, once more he passed me and I saw that
his gray eyes were full of tears and longed to comfort him. Also I
saw that still he carried on his hand that ring talisman which I had
set there upon the ship Hapi, that it might perchance defend him
from the evil influences which desire and compass the death of men.
He went out across the pillared court toward the cloister at its
end. From this cloister appeared a woman, the dark and beauteous
Amenartas herself. This was easy to see since, I know not why, she
had put off the veil of Isis and was gloriously attired in the robes of
a princess—scanty enough I thought them, for they left bare much
of her loveliness—while on her dark and abundant hair shone a
golden circlet from which rose the royal uræus, and on her arms and
bosom sparkled jewels and necklaces.
They meet by plan, thought I to myself. But it was not so, for
seeing her, Kallikrates started and turned to fly; also he covered his
eyes with his hand as though to hide her beauty from him. She lifted
her face like one who pleads, yes, and when he would not hearken,
caught him by the hand and drew him into the shadow of the
cloister.
There they remained a long while, for at this hour the place was
deserted by all. At length they appeared again on the edge of the
shadow and I saw that her arms were about him and that her head
rested on his breast. They separated. She vanished into the shadows
and went her way, while he walked to and fro across the court,
muttering to himself like a man who knows not what he does.
I came from my place and met him, saying,
“Surely you are troubled, Priest. Can it be that the goddess
refuses your prayers? Or is it perchance that you weary of them and
would still play the part of a warrior of warriors as you did on the
galley Hapi, or but the other day yonder in the northern marshes? If
so, it is too late, Priest, for Egypt is fallen and all is lost. That is,
unless, like Mentor and many of your race, you would sell your
sword to Ochus Artaxerxes.”
“Aye, Prophetess,” he answered, “Egypt is lost which, being a
Greek, should not trouble me over much, and I too am lost, I, the
driven of an evil fate.”
“Speak on if it pleases you. Or be silent if it pleases you, O
Priest. What the prophetess hears, she tells only to the Mother.”
Then I turned and went back into the shadow of the shrine
where I leaned against a pillar—I remember that on it was
sculptured the scene of Thoth weighing hearts before Osiris. Here I
waited, wondering whether he would follow me or go his ways.
For a while he stood hesitating, but at length he followed me.
“Prophetess,” he said hoarsely, “I speak under the veil of Isis,
knowing that such confessions cannot be revealed. Yet it is hard to
speak, since the matter has to do with woman, aye, and with
yourself, most holy Prophetess.”
“In Isis I have no self,” I answered.
“Prophetess, in bygone years, as I think you know, I learned to
love a royal maiden, one set far above me, and it seems that she
loved me. That passion brought a brother’s blood upon my hands, as
you also know. I fled to the goddess, seeking peace and forgiveness.
For in me I think there are two selves, the self of my body and the
self of my soul.”
“As in most that breathe beneath the sun,” I answered, sighing.
“I was bred a soldier, one who came from a race of soldiers,
men of high blood and good to look upon, as once I was, though in
this garb few would guess it.”
“I have seen you wearing war-harness and can guess,” I
answered, smiling a little.
“That soldier-self, Prophetess, was as are others of the breed. I
drank and I revelled, I bowed the knee to Aphrodite, loving women
and for an hour being loved. I fought, not without honour. Then
seeking advancement, with my brother I entered the service of
Pharaoh, and of that story doubtless you know the rest.”
I bowed my head and he went on,
“I came to Philæ, I made confession, I took the first vows. At
night and alone I was led to the sanctuary, there to see the vision of
the goddess. I saw that vision glowing in the darkened shrine, and
oh! it was glorious.”
Here I started and watched him narrowly, wondering how much
he knew or guessed.
“Something took hold of me, Prophetess, for now I beheld her
whom all my soul adored, her with whom it would be united. It was
as though a memory came to me from afar, a memory and a
promise. That Power which took hold of me caused me to bend my
head as though to kiss the vision and thereby pledge my soul to the
divine. The vision also bent its head and our lips met, and lo! hers
were like to those of mortal woman, yet sweeter far.”
“The Mother is mistress of all shapes, Priest. Yet think not that
she forgets the pledge that thus it pleased her to accept. From that
moment you were sworn to her, and doubtless in a day to come, in
this form or in that, she will claim you—should you remain true to
her, O Priest.”
“The years passed,” he went on, “and true I remained. Fate
brought me here to Memphis and in this temple I saw you, holy
Prophetess, and learned to worship you from afar, not with the body,
but with the spirit; since to me you were and are what the vulgar
call you, Isis-come-to-Earth, and the sight of you ever put me in
mind, as it does to-day, of that divine vision whose lips met mine in
the shrine at Philæ. Perchance you never knew it, but thus with my
spirit I worshipped you.”
Now I, Ayesha, remained silent, leaning against the pillar, for
weakness took hold of me who felt as though I were about to fall.
Yet—and let the vengeful gods write this to my honour—yet I made
him no sign that I was she who had played the part of Isis in the
sanctuary.
“It is well,” I said presently, “and doubtless at the appointed
hour the goddess will thank you. But what then is your trouble,
Priest? To love a goddess with the spirit is no crime.”
“Aye, Prophetess. But what if he who loves the goddess with his
spirit and is sworn to her alone for ever in a vow of perpetual
chastity, should love a woman with his flesh and thus betray both
heaven and his own soul?”
“Then, Priest,” I answered, speaking very low, “I fear that he is
one whose hope of forgiveness is but small. Yet for those who
repent and deny, there is pardon. Only they must deny, they must
deny while there is still time.”
“Easy to say and hard to do,” he answered, “at least for him
who has to deal with one that will not be denied; with one who
holds his heart in the hollow of her hand and crushes it; with one
whose eyes are like star-beacons to which the wanderer must fly;
with one whose breath is as roses and whose lips are as honey; with
one who can drive the desires of man as a racer drives his chariot;
with one to whom oaths also have been sworn, such oaths as the
youth swears to the maid in the first madness of the flesh, decreed
by those who made it. Goddesses are far away, but woman is near;
moreover, among men there is a law which even a prophetess may
understand, which says that oaths vowed with the lips may not be
broken to benefit the vower’s soul.”
“These are ancient arguments,” I answered; “from age to age
they echo from the roofs of the temples of Aphrodite and of
Ashtoreth, but Isis knows them not. The flesh is given to mankind
that its wearers may learn to scorn and trample it; the spirit is given
to mankind that its holders may learn to rise upon its wings. Woe to
those who choose the flesh and reject the spirit. Repentance is still
possible, and after it comes amendment and after amendment,
forgiveness.”
He brooded awhile, then said,
“Prophetess, I repent who above all things desire at the end—
that end which again and again I have sought in battle wherever it
has passed me by—to be united with the goddess, shaped like the
divine one whom I saw in the shrine at Philæ. Yes, with her and with
no other. But how can I amend who am a lion in a net, a net woven
of woman’s hair?”
Now I searched him with my eyes and learned that although so
sore beset, this man spoke nothing but the truth. Then I answered,
“The wise bird flies the snare which it sees spread in its sight.
To-morrow at the dawn Noot the Holy sails north to meet certain
ambassadors of the Persians and if he can make terms, to ransom
the temples of Isis from the rage of Ochus. Will you go with him,
breathing no word of his purpose or of yours? If so, perchance thus
at last you shall find that goddess whose lips met yours at Philæ,
here—or otherwhere.”
He thought awhile, then muttered,
“It is hard, very hard, yet I will go; I who would satisfy my soul
and not my flesh.”