The. king said: "There is sense in what you say. We have had an example here only this evening. However, when those books in the hoard of Tis the archthief arrive, they will keep me busy for some time. I need to learn the finer points of the literary art, as I, too, am thinking of writing a book."
Everybody asked him what this was to be.
"A history of the campaigns of Alexander," said he. "I have the divine Alexander's own journal in the archives here, and many of his great deeds I myself saw or took part in. It were a shame to let these memories perish with my mortal frame, think you not?
"But let us back to our Egyptian problem, which has plagued me for years. I like to think of myself as more than a mere exploiter and tyrant, holding a conquered people in subjection by force. You may scorn the Egyptians, but they have crowned me with that monstrosity of red and white felt and have formally presented me to their gods. Hermes attend us, but I shall never forget that ten-day in Memphis! I have never been so uncomfortable in my life, standing for hours while they droned through endless rituals. Still and all, I am now their king as well as yours, and I ought to treat them kindly and justly, just as the Alexander felt he owed kindness and justice to the Persians when he had conquered them."
"The Persians at least put up a gallant fight," said Menelaos.
The king ignored this remark. "However," he said, "it is one thing to talk about using the Egyptians kindly and another to bring them into the government. I tried arming some of them, and they began stealing the arms and hiding them for use in a revolt. I have met some of their priests and nobles, but most of them speak no Greek, and those who do are full of such strange ideas that there is no understanding them."
"You might learn Egyptian, Brother," said Menelaos, whereupon all laughed.
I saw my chance. "Sire, I know an Egyptian priest, fluent in Greek, who is on his way hither to represent the priesthoods of Thôth at your court."
"Good," said the king. "When he arrives, turn him over to Demetrios. It may come to nought, but it is at least a step forward."
He clapped his hands. The dancing girls came in, hung wreaths of red and blue lotus flowers around our necks, and began their act.
Days passed without word of the Anath and Amenardis, until I feared that some additional woe had befallen the merchantman. A gust of rain swept the city, proving that it does rain after all in Egypt.
One day Python called a conference of officers after muster. We sat in a circle in his cabin while he paced back and forth in the cramped space and chewed a fingernail.
"I am getting nowhere with my quest for aid for Rhodes," he said. "I have seen the king again, but again there are only polite excuses and postponements. He has made it plain that any further requests would have to be submitted to that painted-up literary character, Demetrios Phalereus."
The executive officer said: "Perhaps he's afraid of throwing good troops after bad."
"Whatever the reason," said Python, "he seems to have made up his mind not to send us any more aid. I am beating my head against a stone wall—a wall hidden behind soft cushions, but a wall nevertheless. What shall I do?"
There was a murmur of suggestions, most of them worthless. Then Python said:
"Chares, were there not some words between you and the king about your making a statue?"
"Yes, sir. I have an appointment with Demetrios Phalereus tomorrow to confirm the final arrangements."
"Get a commission to portray the king, at all costs. This Demetrios Phalereus is said to be quite a boy-lover; yield to him if you must, so that you get in to see the king. Then take up the matter of help for Rhodes."
Luckily, Demetrios Phalereus made no such advances to me. He merely said that the king had approved the proposal for a statue.
"However," he said, "it is plain that you will not be here long enough to erect anything large. Nor does the king care for a full-length statue. His shape, as he says, would never win beauty contests, and it were silly to mount his head on the body of an Apollon. So, not wishing a statue showing him either as he is or as he isn't, he will have a simple bust in bronze, for which we will pay you five hundred drachmai. Is that agreeable?"
"Yes, sir."
When I was taken in to sketch and measure the king, I found him seated at a huge table littered with papyrus. A swarm of secretaries sat about. Some read letters to him; some brought messages; some took dictation. Officials came and went. He was the busiest king I had yet seen. When I had a chance, I said:
"O King, you are paying me a fair price, but I would do the work ten times over for nothing if it meant aid to my city—"
I went on in that vein for a few sentences until the king raised his hand.
"Lad," he said, "perhaps you have not dealt much with kings, so your ignorance is excusable. But let me explain something to you. Have you seen me stop work since you began your sketching?"
"No, sire."
"Nor will you. On all but a few days of the year I work like this from sunrise to sunset. And why? Because a king can never fully trust anybody to carry out his orders faithfully unless he keep his officers in a state of salutary apprehension by inquiring into matters for himself. You know what Alkman was doing in Memphis, because I was not looking over his shoulder.
"Besides, half the people in Egypt—which, they tell me, has several millions of inhabitants—want to get in to see me about their complaints and personal problems. If I give audience to none, I lose touch with my problems. If I give some of my officers to abuse them without redress. On the other hand, there are not enough hours in the day to see all who wish audience. That is why I have Demetrios Phalereus, or another like him, to pass on all requests for audience and to decide which to send in and which to turn aside.
"As you see, a king, if he would really rule, must be as niggardly of his time as a miser of his gold. Every hour must be devoted to certain things and those only. Almost every person he sees during the day has some request to press upon him, and the king must hold them off in order not to be driven mad. And that is why a king takes it ill when a man admitted to his presence on one pretext begins dunning him over some wholly different matter. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," I said. Biting my lip with mortification, I went back to my sculpture in silence.
The Anath, after being held in Tamiathis by adverse winds, reached Alexandria late in Maimakterion. I had a passionate reunion with Amenardis. I had moved out of the officers' quarters in the barracks, next to the palace inclosure, and taken a small apartment in the Beta district. As I was paying the landlord his deposit, the idea struck me to give the man a false name, to make it harder for any ill-wishers to find me. So I became, for the nonce, Nikon Charetos of Kôs.
I also took Manethôs , Theodoros, and Dikaiarchos into the palace to meet Demetrios Phalereus. Manethôs had become quite cheerful at the prospect of an indefinite leave of absence from his wife. His temple council had promoted him from scribe to wing-bearer to lend more weight to his words.
On fair mornings we of the Halia spent a few hours in exercises: rowing and practice in arms. Captain Python chewed his nails and paced the deck in anxiety over the seeming failure of his mission.