intercourse with foreigners generally, (always an
abomination in the eyes of the Egyptians), men felt
confident that Amasis would return to the old ways,
would rigorously exclude foreigners from the country,
dismiss the Greek mercenaries, and instead of taking
counsel from the Greeks, would hearken only to the
commands of the priesthood. But in this, as you
must see yourself, the prudent Egyptians had guessed
wide of the mark in their choice of a ruler; they fell
from Scylla into Charybdis. If Hophra was called
the Greeks’ friend, Amasis must be named our
lover. The Egyptians, especially the priests and
the army, breathe fire and flame, and would fain strangle
us one and all, off hand, This feeling on the part
of the soldiery does not disturb Amasis, for he knows
too well the comparative value of their and our services;
but with the priests it is another and more serious
matter, for two reasons: first, they possess
an unbounded influence over the people; and secondly.
Amasis himself retains more affection than he likes
to acknowledge to us, for this absurd and insipid
religion—a religion which appears doubly
sacred to its adherents simply because it has existed
in this eccentric land—unchanged for thousands
of years. These priests make the king’s
life burdensome to him; they persecute and injure us
in every possible way; and indeed, if it had not been
for the king’s protection, I should long ago
have been a dead man. But I am wandering from
my tale! As I said before, Rhodopis was received
at Naukratis with open arms by all, and loaded with
marks of favor by Amasis, who formed her acquaintance.
Her daughter Kleis, as is the case with the little
Sappho now—was never allowed to appear
in the society which assembled every evening at her
mother’s house, and indeed was even more strictly
brought up than the other young girls in Naukratis.
She married Glaucus, a rich Phocaean merchant of noble
family, who had defended his native town with great
bravery against the Persians, and with him departed
to the newly-founded Massalia, on the Celtic coast.
There, however, the young couple both fell victims
to the climate, and died, leaving a little daughter,
Sappho. Rhodopis at once undertook the long journey
westward, brought the orphan child back to live with
her, spent the utmost care on her education, and now
that she is grown up, forbids her the society of men,
still feeling the stains of her own youth so keenly
that she would fain keep her granddaughter (and this
in Sappho’s case is not difficult), at a greater
distance from contact with our sex than is rendered
necessary, by the customs of Egypt. To my friend
herself society is as indispensable as water to the
fish or air to the bird. Her house is frequented
by all the strangers here, and whoever has once experienced
her hospitality and has the time at command will never
after be found absent when the flag announces an evening
of reception. Every Greek of mark is to be found
here, as it is in this house that we consult on the
wisest measures for encountering the hatred of the
priests and bringing the king round to our own views.
Here you can obtain not only the latest news from home,
but from the rest of the world, and this house is
an inviolable sanctuary for the persecuted, Rhodopis
possessing a royal warrant which secures her from
every molestation on the part of the police.