“I would gladly like to be a real physician,” I said shyly, for I was still a boy and knew nothing of life nor that age seeks to lay its own dreams and its own disappointments on the shoulders of youth.
But to Thutmose Ptahor showed a gold ring that encircled his wrist and commanded, “Read!” Thutmose spelled out the characters inscribed and then read aloud uncertainly, “I want my cup full!” He could not repress a smile.
“There is nothing to laugh at, you rascal,” reproached Ptahor gravely. “This has nothing to do with wine. If you are to be an artist you must demand that your cup be full. In the true artist, Ptah reveals himself — the creator and the builder. The artist is more than a reflecting pool or a mirror. Art indeed may often be nothing but flattering water or a lying mirror, yet the artist is more than water. So let your cup never be less than full, son, and do not rest content with what men tell you, but rather trust to your own clear eyes.”
After that, he promised that I should soon be summoned as a pupil to the House of Life and that he would try to help Thutmose enter the art school in Ptah’s temple if such a thing were possible.
“But, boys,” he said, “listen carefully to what I say and then forget it at once or forget at least that it was the royal skull opener who said it. You will now fall into the hands of priests, and you, Sinuhe, will become one yourself in a course of time. Your father and I were both initiated into the lowest grade, and no one may follow the physician’s calling without being so initiated. But when you come among them, be wary as jackals and cunning as serpents, that you not lose yourselves and be blinded. But outwardly be as gentle as doves, for not until the goal is attained may a man reveal his true colours. Remember this.”
We conversed further until Ptahor’s servant appeared with a hired chair and fresh clothes for his master. The slaves had pawned Ptahor’s own chair at a neighbouring pleasure house and were still sleeping there. Ptahor gave his servant authority to redeem both chair and slaves, took leave of us, assuring my father of his friendship, and returned to the eminent quarter of the city.
37
This was the way I joined the House of Life in the great Temple of Amun. But next day Ptahor, the royal skull opener, sent a present to Kipa, a sacred scarab carved from a precious stone, to be placed next her heart beneath the shroud in her tomb. He could have given my mother no greater joy, and Kipa forgave him everything and ceased lecturing my father Senmut upon the curse of wine.
38
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