An Egyptian Princess — Volume 08 — Text and Context

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Ebers, Georg, 1837-1898, Grove, Eleanor [Translator] Project Gutenberg 2004 Not confirmed
Egypt -- History -- To 332 B.C. -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English Readers of public-domain and historical texts
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Edition facts

Words 23,712
Reading time 104 min
Text sections 3

The catalog record for An Egyptian Princess — Volume 08 — Text and Context provides practical reading context through 23,712 words, 1 hr 44 min estimated reading time, and 3 detected text sections.

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In Volume 8 of Ebers's historical novel, Nebenchari tends the dying Nitetis while Persian doctors murmur incantations; political tensions surface as Prexaspes delivers the king's ring to Oroetes, whose defiance is noted by Darius. The narrative contrasts bedside vigil with court intrigue.
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The sun was already trying to break a path for his rays through the thick curtains, that closed the window of the sick-room, but Nebenchari had not moved from the Egyptian girl's bedside. Sometimes he felt her pulse, or spread sweet-scented ointments on her forehead or chest, and then he would sit gazing dreamily into vacancy. Nitetis seemed to have sunk into a deep sleep after an attack of convulsions. At the foot of her bed stood six Persian doctors, murmuring incantations under the orders of Nebenchari, whose superior science they acknowledged, and who was seated at the bed's head.

Every time he felt the sick girl's pulse he shrugged his shoulders, and the gesture was immediately imitated by his Persian colleagues. From time to time the curtain was lifted and a lovely head appeared, whose questioning blue eyes fixed at once on the physician, but were always dismissed with the same melancholy shrug. It was Atossa. Twice she had ventured into the room, stepping so lightly as hardly to touch the thick carpet of Milesian wool, had stolen to her friend's bedside and lightly kissed her forehead, on which the pearly dew of death was standing, but each time a severe and reproving glance from Nebenchari had sent her back again into the next room, where her mother Kassandane was lying, awaiting the end.

Cambyses had left the sick-room at sunrise, on seeing that Nitetis had fallen asleep; he flung himself on to his horse, and accompanied by Phanes, Prexaspes, Otanes, Darius, and a number of courtiers, only just aroused from their sleep, took a wild ride through the game-park. He knew by experience, that he could best overcome or forget any violent mental emotion when mounted on an unmanageable horse.

Nebenchari started on hearing the sound of horses' hoofs in the distance. In a waking dream he had seen Cambyses enter his native land at the head of immense hosts; he had seen its cities and temples on fire, and its gigantic pyramids crumbling to pieces under the powerful blows of his mighty hand. Women and children lay in the smouldering ruins, and plaintive cries arose from the tombs in which the very mummies moved like living beings; and all these-priests, warriors, women, and children--the living and the dead--all had uttered his,--Nebenchari's,--name, and had cursed him as a traitor to his country. A cold shiver struck to his heart; it beat more convulsively than the blood in the veins of the dying girl at his side. Again the curtain was raised; Atossa stole in once more and laid her hand on his shoulder. He started and awoke. Nebenchari had been sitting three days and nights with scarcely any intermission by this sick-bed, and such dreams were the natural consequence.

Atossa slipped back to her mother. Not a sound broke the sultry air of the sick-room, and Nebenchiari's thoughts reverted to his dream. He told himself that he was on the point of becoming a traitor and a criminal, the visions he had just beheld passed before him again, but this time it was another, and a different one which gained the foremost place. The forms of Amasis, who had laughed at and exiled him,--of Psamtik and the priests,--who had burnt his works,--stood near him; they were heavily fettered and besought mercy at his hands. His lips moved, but this was not the place in which to utter the cruel words which rose to them. And then the stern man wiped away a tear as he remembered the long nights, in which he had sat with the reed in his hand, by the dull light of the lamp, carefully painting every sign of the fine hieratic character in which he committed his ideas and experience to writing. He had discovered remedies for many diseases of the eye, spoken of in the sacred books of Thoth and the writings of a famous old physician of Byblos as incurable, but, knowing that he should be accused of sacrilege by his colleagues, if he ventured on a correction or improvement of the sacred writings, he had entitled his work, "Additional writings on the treatment of diseases of the eye, by the great god Thoth, newly discovered by the oculist Nebenchari."

The volume opens with Nebenchari keeping watch over the Egyptian girl Nitetis, whose convulsions have given way to a deep sleep. The physician's repeated shrugs, immediately imitated by six Persian doctors, signal a hopeless prognosis. Atossa's blue eyes appear at the curtain, only to be dismissed with the same melancholy gesture. The scene is thick with sensory detail: the pearly dew of death on Nitetis's forehead, the thick carpet of Milesian wool, the sweet-scented ointments. Meanwhile, Cambyses has fled the sick-room at sunrise, taking a wild ride through the game-park to overcome his mental agitation.

The Physician's Vigil and Dream

Nebenchari's physical exhaustion manifests in a waking dream: he envisions Cambyses invading Egypt, its temples on fire, pyramids crumbling, and the dead and living alike cursing him as a traitor. This dream is explicitly linked to his three days and nights of near-continuous attendance. The text notes that such dreams were the natural consequence of his vigil, grounding the fantastical vision in bodily strain. The dream's content—a traitor's curse—echoes the political tensions elsewhere in the volume, where loyalty to Persia versus Egypt is a recurring fault line. Nebenchari's position as an Egyptian physician serving a Persian court places him in a precarious middle ground, a detail the dream makes visceral.

The King's Ring and Satrap's Defiance

When Prexaspes presents the king's ring to Oroetes, the satrap's reaction is described in physical terms: he bites his lips till they bleed, makes a brief obeisance, and leaves with a look of irritation and defiance. Darius immediately notes this, remarking that Oroetes seems to fancy himself King of Lydia. The exchange reveals a power struggle beneath the surface of military alliance. Prexaspes's proposal to treat with Polykrates—whom Oroetes calls a pirate—highlights conflicting priorities: strategic necessity versus personal enmity. The ring, a symbol of despotism, compels obedience but cannot suppress resentment. Zopyrus's plea to keep Oroetes's conduct secret from Cambyses adds another layer of courtly maneuvering.

Contrasting Impressions and Loyalties

Darius states a principle: he takes an aversion or fancy to people at first sight and seldom changes his mind. He disliked Oroetes before hearing him speak, yet took a fancy to Amasis. This subjective judgment is juxtaposed with the objective demands of politics. Bartja, grateful for Oroetes's past kindness, hopes his defiance will be concealed from his brother Cambyses. The dialogue weaves personal feeling into strategic calculation. The mention of a copper tablet showing a map of the world, drawn by an Egyptian priest, hints at broader cultural encounters. These details—the map, the physician's dream, the satrap's bitten lip—accumulate to create a world where loyalties are tested by proximity to power and memory of home.

Readers attentive to the interplay of physical detail and political subtext will find this volume rewards close attention to gesture and silence. The dying Nitetis and the defiant Oroetes are linked by the pressures of empire: one succumbs, the other resists. Nebenchari's dream and Darius's instinctive dislikes remind us that the novel's conflicts are as much internal as external. The excerpts offer a concentrated study in how Ebers uses the body—the pulse, the lip, the shrug—to convey what words cannot say.

Reading this bedside vigil, with Nitetis slipping away while Persian doctors murmur, I remembered sitting with my grandmother during her last illness—how the quiet felt heavier than any words. The Crisis — Volume 05 — Themes and Context once gave me that same ache, the private hush beside someone fading while the world outside keeps turning, indifferent.

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